The Rolling Bulletin Board

Driving on the interstate back home today, I seen a lot of bumper stickers. Some were the simple "My child is an honor student at ________________." Others bumper stickers were favorite football/ baseball/basketball teams, even saw one for Bush. (Gah, that's old for a bumper sticker~)



I am not a bumper sticker person. A small magnet to show College Football team pride, I can completely understand. (My car wears hers on the tag.) However, when there are 40 bumper stickers, displaying the SAME team name, over and over, and as if that's not enough, a flag for each of the 4 windows, it's time to reevaluate the purpose of the item, i.e. transportation.






What if the car is sold? While Jane doesn't have any children, she's sportin' around a bumper sticker that says, "Proud Parent of An Exceptional Student" because the owner before her couldn't or didn't get it off. Or (my favorite) the bumper stickers that are on the trunk/tail gate. What happened to the BUMPER part of the sticker?






I have saw only several of the rolling bulletin boards.The cars that daunt 50 million bumper stickers? So many, in fact, that it would be impossible to read them all, unless of course, we were sitting still. I just don't understand the purpose of this.






Don't get me wrong, I COMPLETELY understand free speech. Gosh, this is like a clapper on a goose's behind. "Roll Tide, Exceptional Grandchild, Support the Troops, Retired, Loves Blue Grass, Love My Dog and Jesus Is My CoPilot" is just too much to read, going down the road at 65 mph. (It's almost too much to read at the red light.)





Do you sport bumper stickers? If so, how many is too many for your vehicle?

I've Been Randomly Chosen

Back from the brink, or the mountainside, I should say....Okay, Okay, I know I said we weren't going, but the kids begged and begged. On Thanksgiving afternoon we left for the mountains to be with my family. I'm tellin' ya, it took a LOT of convincing. (We were packed and gone within the hour...HA) We had a nice Friday and Saturday in the mountains and I will post pictures later on....


When I got home tonight, I checked the mail. The US Census Bureau RANDOMLY chose my home for a 33 page booklet to fill out. It always seems funny to me, because I always get randomly chosen for something that is required by law. My name is in the pot like 33:1 compared to everyone else's. I always win with the Census Bureau or the Income Tax Auditor.


Why can't I have the same odds say in the lottery? Or Publisher's Clearing House? That would be nice. The van, 'ole Ed arriving at my house with roses and balloons and the big fat check that's as tall as my door....Why can't I win that, instead of some measly census?


Question 1: State Your Name
Question 2: Color of Panties You Are Currently Wearing (Mark this box if you do not have any on....)
Question 3: Do you wash your hair at least 4 times a week?
Question 4: How often do you wash dishes and/or clothes in a week?



Nah, just kiddin'....These people want to know more than the doctor's office questionnaires. Seriously, do I have ANY personal business left? Plus, they want grave details.....How many spoons of sugar do you add to your coffee? Do you stir it in a circular motion, slosh it, or just let it gum up at the bottom? GAH~


Between the doctor's office and the Census Bureau, there's nothing left.

Can you help me? I'm Kinda Lost....

There it is ~that perfect, fat gobbler, waiting in the freezer of the local grocery store, calling your name. "Take me home, take me home..." It's the PERFECT Thanksgiving bird, one your family will eat, drink and be merry over. The one you will heat up for Thanksgiving supper, the day after breakfast, make turkey salad with, devouring every portion of that wonderful choice bird.





You put it on the rotating belt at the cashier's desk, being careful not to bump or bruise your choice meat. As she smiles at you, you secretly smile back, because you know something she doesn't. You got the best turkey this piddly store has to offer and no one's will be quite as good as yours.





On the drive home, you quietly think of all the small details. Once there, you defrost the bird until the next day, to make sure he's good and awake before giving up the gobble....





A whole 2 hours...Can you believe it took that long for you to realize you didn't know a thing about cleaning, spicing, or cooking a turkey? Geez, by now, it should be starting to turn that soft brown, looking like the one on the front cover of Woman's Day....You know, the one Jennifer Lopez sits down to, thanking her lucky stars for her kazillion dollars of net worth?




So you do what 10,000 other people that hour do and call 1-800-BUTTERBALL... Seriously. They're there to help with all your turkey needs. With a red face that the operator can't see and sooooo glad she can't, you whisper "Can you help me? I'm kinda lost...," like you would if you were sitting in the back of a kidnapper's car and needed to be rescued.



Oh well, it sounded good when you talked about it....
Happy Thanksgiving Yau'll,

Have You Ever Wondered? Holiday Edition

• Have you ever wondered why Indians are not as important as Pilgrims in our version of Thanksgiving?
  

• Have you ever wondered what makes most kids want to play the part of the Pilgrim in a Thanksgiving play, when Indian clothes are much more decorative?

• Have you ever wondered why the Pilgrims didn't have some sort of game plan for living when they got on a boat to sail all the way across the Atlantic?

• Have you ever wondered if the Pilgrim women spent hours on end preparing the Thanksgiving meal, like we do today? (I don't think it took that long, being that there were so many women....)

• Have you ever wondered if Pilgrim kids asked "Are we there yet?" 100 times a day, like kids do today on a long trip?

• Have you ever wondered if you were kin to a Pilgrim?

I have and I'm thankful for Indians, Pilgrims, the Mayflower and all that Thanksgiving jazz~

Thankful #20-24

I am such a slacker...Good thing I wasn't a Pilgrim with an important job on the Mayflower, or we may have never made it.


In continuing with my Thankful posts....I'm thankful for:



Indians- They seem to get left out of the Thanksgiving hoopla somehow. Not sure why, but they should be front and center, considering the Pilgrims would have starved to death had the Indians not showed them ways to work the land.





Pilgrims- If it wasn't for Pilgrims, I'd be in England.Not that England's a bad place, I've just never heard an Englishman with a country accent. Not sure how that would sound... YIKES~




Groceries- I know lots of people may think that's silly, but then again, lots of people would be thankful if they had them. (If you have ever been a single mom, then you know what I'm talkin' about.)

I haven't always been able to go out and spend $200.00 at the grocery store in one pop. I'm so thankful that when I need to, I can.




My Stove- No, the stove on the right isn't mine. I don't have a flat top or a stainless steel stove. What I do have is a well worn, old stove. Guess what? It works. It works well enough to cook a delicious Thanksgiving meal, as good as any stainless or flat top stove. Although old, at least it's not a wood burning stove. (I can only imagine the disadvantage of raising babies around one, heating the house and cooking a big meal with a wood burner.) Thankful for my stove~




Electricity- Simple, one of the small things, yet there again, if I didn't have it....it would be a big thing. Pilgrims didn't get to enjoy their Thanksgiving meal in a well heated home, with a stove to warm their food.





Thankful for the Simple Thanksgiving pleasures we enjoy~

The Cookin' Is Over, Finally

Whew....I'm finally done with cooking. I have cooked and cooked and cooked. Does anyone else besides me ever get all excited about the idea of whipping up a good holiday meal and then "Praise the Lord I'm done" when it's over?

Everything is finally done, except for the turkey, which I'm expecting to give up the gobble in about 2 hours.


My Thanksgiving Menu: (All homemade except for rolls)

• Roasted Turkey
• Maple Ham
• Cornbread Dressing
• Mac and Cheese
• Green Bean Bundles
• Potato Salad
• Pigs in a Blanket
• Cranberry Sauce Chutney
• Pumpkin Pie
• Banana Pudding
• Rolls
  

I must share the recipe this recipe. I don't usually make homemade banana pudding, but it is oh so simple. It may even be more simple than whipping up the store bought pudding.

Homemade Banana Pudding

1 c. sugar

2 tablespoons flour
3 egg yolks
2 c. milk
1 tablespoons vanilla
1 box Nilla wafers
3-5 Bananas

Layer bananas, then wafers in oven proof medium bowl. In saucepan add sugar and egg yolks; mix well adding milk when needed. Add flour to egg mixture, then the rest of the milk; mix well. Add vanilla, stir constantly on medium heat until thick and smooth. Pour over wafers and bananas.

Make topping from egg whites. Beat egg whites until stiff. Add 3 tablespoons sugar. Beat again. Add 1 teaspoon vanilla; beat again. Lightly brown in oven.

Cooks.com

Here's something I'm thankful for: the cooking's over!

I'm the Girl That Plays Games

I love games. Scavenger hunts, board games, you name it ~ I'm in. Anything but Xbox. (So how'd I wind up buying many, many xbox games?) I like games because they offer a challenge, and bring out the competitor in me, as well as the kid.



I really hate that I missed the Christmas of Dreams contest over at Not-So-Blog. Bridgette's has great contests over there and I wish I'd known about it sooner. However, the next game is the 12 Days of Christmas. Oh yeah, I'm in. Promise me a challenge, clear directions, a bag of M & M's or a ball point pen as a prize and I'm there!


The Twelve Days of Christmas Contest starts November 28 and I'm doing the happy dance, cause I get to play a game!

Black Friday

All bundled up at 3:30 in the morning, praying for sleep, like some insomniac on his worst night, here I go. Down at the local Wal-mart, crowds are already starting to form. Yes, it's the closest thing to "war in the homeland" this nation comes to, once a year. Thank goodness it's only once a year~




There's this one deal. If it wasn't for that stupid toy my child just has to have, I'd still be in bed asleep, like the other half of Americans that aren't phased by Black Friday. Not me, oh nooooo..... I must get that truck, I must get that truck, I must get that truck.... Over and over, I repeat the words, like I'm trying to convince someone, not sure of who. Being the frugal shopper that I am, yes, I will wait in the long and winding and winding AND winding line to purchase the truck for $25.00 instead of $90.00. That's one heck of a deal, and pass it up? Not on your life!




As the doors are about to open, I realize I've been standing in the freezing cold for just under 2 hours. I'm tough and if every other mother can do this, so can I. Just as they are about to open the doors, I hear hooves...It's horses, wait no, it's people, running like they are running to stay alive.




Buggies are moving everywhere and people act as if they have 10 minutes or less to stay alive. By God, they're going to do it with SHOPPING....I get to my item just in time for the lady that hasn't combed her hair in weeks, much less this morning, grabs the last one and smiles that toothless smile. UGH..... I think I'll just order from Walmart or Ebay next time.




Two hours of wait time and no truck. Oh well, some ungroomed soul is gonna make her kid happy with MY sons truck! Yes, I'm a sore loser. I think I'll just stay in bed from now on. Black Friday was made for shoppers to see the black behind their eyes while sleeping at 3:30 in the morning.




My take on Black Friday.

Bush Pardons....Too Many Too Late

Ok, so he's still the Pres., and I still voted for him both times. That doesn't change the fact that he has taken advantage of his last days in power and gave some a "free pass" home. What the....? I'm not talking about small crimes either. Let's see, the doozies we have are:

• Using Pesticide Illegally (It could have been in someone's glass...HA~)
  
• False Statements to the United States Government ("No sir, that 1040 is not true...I did not work for those people..")
  
• Wrongful use of marijuana and cocaine (How many ways can you use this stuff? I only thought there was one...)
  
• Unauthorized acquisition of food stamps ("Yes sir, all 10 of those kids DID belong to me...and this IS my food stamp card")
  
• Income tax evasion ("I did not pay taxes from 1990-2005 because I did not work, I don't care what that company says...")
  
• Bank Embezzlement ("Well, I worked for them...on commission.")
• Aiding and embedding the theft of government property (Bet it wasn't Bush's lawn mower...)
  

Why wait this late? This is really crappy to say the least. Of course, it's not as many as Reagan or Clinton, so what? I think the timing overshadows the rest of the facts....






If I had done any of the things listed above, I would still be rotting away in a stinky, dark jail cell somewhere. What made him pardon these and not others for similar crimes? That's the part I always thought was so unfair. What @ the 2 million other inmates that are waiting for their pardons? I guess I better not speak too soon.






Oh yea, anybody have an extra food stamp card?
Merry Christmas a little early to 14 inmates....

Needed: Help Planning Thanksgiving Meal

I am cooking at home with just the kids and I this year. My family (parents, brother/sister and their families) are all taking the annual Thanksgiving trip to the mountains. We are saving our pennies for Disney World.




That being said, I am asking for YOUR help in planning my Thanksgiving meal. Do you have a good recipe that you cook every holiday? I don't want to cook something that I cook all the time. You know, mashed potatoes, macaroni n cheese, etc. I want something that makes me go "Wow, this is good!" I want dishes that are slap 'ya mama good~



Tell me what YOU make for the holidays that is different than all the usual turkey, dressing and trimmings.

Help a Soldier for Cheap

Thanks to the gal over at On the Verge, I found a site where we, the kids and I, can help someone or several someones in the service. AnySoldier makes it super easy!


There is a name of a group leader and a small list of items soldiers in that group would like. Once you send a package, the leader finds a deserving service man/ woman in his/her troop to give it to. They usually distribute them to people that don't get much or any mail/packages. If you send 10 shoe box packages, they are distributed to 10 service people in that leader's group. (Most of the items are just small pleasures we take for granted here in the states, like beef jerky, Ramen noodles, and other snack foods.)




If you would like to help a soldier, please visit: AnySoldier. Once there, click on the What to Send button in the navigation bar and a list will show up on the side. From there, you can choose the specifics of servicemen you would like to help. You can choose to help someone by: the branch of service, the country he/she is stationed in, the date they are expected home, where the unit is from, etc.




Maybe you can't afford lots of packages or treats. That's fine, too. AnySoldier encourages people to send cards and letters to these troops. There is no excuse to not brighten some soldier's day.




What's a stamp and a letter? Not much in cost, but an envelope full of sunshine for someone serving his/her country far, far away.

Thankful 18, 19: Freedom and US Troops

Freedom is not free, we all know that. We take it for granted, though. I'll bet we wouldn't if we didn't have it. I am thankful for being free to go and do at will, as long as it's legal. We can be, do, see, say what we want, when we want. Not all countries are this fortunate.



Which brings me to US troops. They have a hard job, and most wouldn't do anything else. We put 'em wherever and forget about them a lot of times.



I can't imagine leaving on a trip, knowing that I'd be gone from my friends, family and home for at least a year, if not longer. Many come back to children a year of more older than when they left, a baby that's a year old that they've never laid eyes on, or emotional /trauma problems. For putting their lives on hold to defend this country, I am thankful. That's a hard pill to swallow, but it ensures the freedom of this land.



Freedom and US Troops, I take em for granted, but I am oh so thankful~

Is This Drugs?

My youngest child comes in the room today as we are watching the Ole Miss/ Texas Tech game, holding something in his hand. My neck did a double take 360. In his hand is a tampon applicator!! Ugh, Gah and OMG~ times 4! He sees it laying in the bathroom trash and picks it up to come ask me what it is. Couldn't you have done that without bringing it in for verification purposes?



He asks me "What is this?" I tell him it's something "I need." What in the heck do you say to an 8 year old boy about these things, that are too much for his little mind? I fuss at him for picking something up out of the bathroom trash can. Can you say germs? So, he went and washed his hands, but I won't ever feel like their clean enough ever again, considering and all. HA~



He washes his hands and returns to the living room wanting to know what it is. I continue with the lines of "Something I gotta have, something I need." In all seriousness he looks at me and asks, "Is it drugs?"



EEEEEkkk- My son now thinks that I'm on drugs. Stay at home mom, chubby girl, school teacher, no rotten teeth/sores on my arms and I'm a druggie? I almost had to laugh, but I didn't. I just said, "No son, do you think Mama is on drugs?" He said "No mam, just wonderin' why you can't tell me." I then went into the spill about how kids didn't need to know some things, this being one.



I wish this was drugs. Then I could go to rehab and the need for these would stop forever. HA~ Drugs, this kid really does have one heck of an imagination......

Thanksgiving 2005: The Ponderosa Steak House

About 3 years ago, the boys and I spent Thanksgiving in the the mountains. My family didn't go that year, just the boys and I. That year will go down in history as my worst Thanksgiving ever. Funny as all get out now, but it wasn't then.



On Thanksgiving Day, I was bound and determined to have a Turkey meal, complete with dressing and all the trimmings. We had been going and sight seeing all day in Pigeon Forge, and finally passed The Ponderosa Steak House. The outside sign read, "We are serving Thanksgiving lunch, Turkey and Dressing." B*I*N*G*O! I had just found our Thanksgiving lunch. Here's what we got:




$12.00 per person for TV Dinner styled turkey slices? Gah! You know, the kind that's so thin you can read the paper through them? It was gross. Combine that with a side of the Stove Top Stuffing Dressing and we had ourselves a Thanksgiving Lunch. I'm not knocking Stove Top, but this was awful, smelt like old man ass, and left a bitter aftertaste. The cranberry sauce was jelly, yes jelly.



My Thanksgiving meal doesn't have to be five star, just make it decent. Do not serve me tv dinner style turkey and charge me $12.00 plus drinks. Gah, they could have at least threw in the tv to watch while we were eating our dinner.

I Said No to Myspace

Myspace, the tween virus. The Earth is spinning for the last time because my oldest son doesn't have a page, or so he thinks. Do you let your children have a Myspace page? If so, how old were they before you allowed them to have one?



Reasons behind me not letting Buddy have a Myspace page:

• Pedophiles roam the computer daily, looking for kids
  
• He's not mature enough to understand what NOT to put in one
  
• The user agreement that people sign on MS says "I am at least 18 years old"
• I want him to stay a kid for ALAP (As Long as possible)
• I'm the meanest mama in the whole wide world (just ask him...lol)

We have children in our outer family circle that have a page. Never mind their not old enough to have a driver's permit.... for a bicycle. How old is old enough? I think it depends on the parents better judgment. This parent says no to Myspace for tweens. Maybe 14, maybe not.



I don't get a second chance to raise him right the first time.

That Snobby Baptist Girl

As I look around at sites in my Entrecard category, I realize my blog is a mix of humor and parenting/mommy. Just a personal blog with a little humor thrown in.

I love to find a blog where someone makes his/her page a little personal and a lot funny/stupid, so we have something in common. It kinda makes me connect with the writer, like he/she enjoys corny everyday moments, too.

There were several sites that I really, really enjoyed, but left just as quickly as I came. Being a southern baptist, I'm kinda scared of Mormons, and Jehovah's. I'm sorry, I just don't have anything in common with them. They deserve their right to pick their religious affiliation just as I deserve mine.


That being said, I'm sure I'll get hate mail about this post. Save the drama for someone else's mama.



OMG, I'm that Snobby Baptist Girl.

Denzel and Uh Uhm.....

OMG. I looked on my Google stats to see what searches my site came up on. (I have tried to be very tasteful and family friendly up to this point, watching my mouth. I realize that blog pages represent a smidgen of who we really are.)

The 2 top searches where my site came up were actually scary because I don't remember writing on either one. Denzel Washington has never been mentioned in any post that I know of, but he may've been. Denzel, tell your PR to send me my check ASAP pal.

Uh Uhm.....now for the second. There is no tasteful way to say it, no pun intended: Truck Balls??? How the hell did that get on my crawls for this site? I have no idea, but I got a really, really good laugh and think you will too.

My Friend David

I've been having some robot problems with this blog. I talked to one of the best and most trusted tech gurus I know, David, my buddy from BlogMad. I think he finally helped me fix it. You should check his site out, http://gofullnerd.blogspot.com/. He's a real nerd, but not the pocket protector kind.






Thanks Dave,

'Twas the Night Before Thanksgiving

Twas the night before Thanksgiving and all through the house,
Mom was working her ass off, with no help from her spouse.




Her daughter was married, so her assistance was through,
The boys always had something better to do.


Mom shopped for the stuffing, the yams and the nuts,
Even picked out the turkey and cleaned-out the guts.


She chopped and she diced for hours in the kitchen,
She stirred and she whipped and not once started bitchin’.


On Thanksgiving morn’ it was more of the same,
Mom set the table, while they drank at the game.


Back late and trashed, like they were every year,
The work was all done, so they cracked-open a beer.


They sat down to dinner and dad gave the blessing,
While mom smiled to herself, because she had spit in the dressing.



http://www.pdangelo.com/thanksgivingpoem.htm

Even Doctors Have Those Uh-Oh Moments

Last night, my oldest son tripped over a pair of shoes left lying around by his younger brother. He fell and of course, ribs are broke, kidneys are bruised, and he is going to need immediate stomach surgery. Not really, but he did stump his toes. (I don't really know if stump would be a good word, cause they bent backwards.) Anyway, the world is coming to an end.


After hearing him cry about it all afternoon, I finally decide I should take him to the ER. I know there isn't much one can do for hurt toes, but I need some relief if nothing else. Going to the ER here is like waiting in a very long line to pay taxes. It takes a long time, while you sit there helpless. All of the do-it-yourself remedies they recommend could be found in a book somewhere, I'm sure.


We get to the ER, sign in and sure enough, one hour later we are still sitting in the same chair. After about an hour and a half they call us back and Xray his foot. The doctor comes in to see his foot and was surely having a blonde moment type of night. Out of the blue he says, "Take off your other shoe." I realize he wants to compare toes.


The problem is, the other foot is RUBBER. I explain to the doctor that he can't possibly gain any useful information from looking at the left foot. Would he like to use my foot to compare it with? HA~ Long story short, the doctor felt crappy about it, apologized 100 times, and gave my son 2 days off of school with a toe splint. We are gonna live!


Personally, I think the 2 days off of school was to make up for the Uh-Oh Moment. My son wobbled away one happy out-of-schooler.

Wordless Wednesday

The Best Weight Loss Program Going

A guy calls a company and orders their 5-day, 10 lb. weight loss program. The next day, there's a knock on the door and there stands before him a voluptuous, athletic, 19 year old babe dressed in nothing but a pair of Nike running shoes and a sign around her neck.






She introduces herself as a representative of the weight loss company. The sign reads , "If you can catch me, you can have me." Without a second thought, he takes off after her. A few miles later huffing and puffing, he finally gives up. The same girl shows up for the next four days and the same thing happens. On the fifth day, he weighs himself and is delighted to find he has lost 10 lbs. as promised.






He calls the company and orders their 5-day/20 pound program. The next day there's a knock at the door and there stands the most stunning, beautiful, sexy woman he has ever seen in his life. She is wearing nothing but Reebok running shoes and a sign around her neck that reads, "If you catch me you can have me".




Well, he's out the door after her like a shot. This girl is in excellent shape and it takes him a while before he can continue, so for the next four days, the same routine happens with him gradually getting in better and better shape. Much to his delight on the fifth day he weighs himself only to discover that he has lost another 20 lbs. as promised.






He decides to go for broke and calls the company to order the 7-day/50 pound program. "Are you sure?" asks the representative on the phone. "This is our most rigorous program." "Absolutely, " he replies, "I haven't felt this good in years." The next day there's a knock at the door; and when he opens it he finds a huge muscular guy standing there wearing nothing but pink running shoes and a sign around his neck that reads, "If I catch you, your ass is mine."



Got this in an email...Thought it was too dang funny not to share.

But I've Never Been Anywhere

While teaching 5th grade, I ran into the saddest little girl ever. Seriously. (I taught in a high poverty, inner city public school.) With her clothes faded and worn, she was a very quiet fifth grader, never caused trouble, and I almost would forget she was there. One thing that stood out about her was that she never smiled.



I don't know the story of her home life, but I sure know the one of school. It seems this little girl moved around quite a bit, for what reason I still can't figure out. As a fifth grader, she could not write a complete sentence, knowing to capitalize the first letter of the sentence, much less as a question mark or period. When it came to reading, she got a, and, and the right, but not much more. I often wondered how this little girl had never been tested or gotten help, up to the fifth grade.



Fifth graders do a LOT of writing, because there are state mandated tests that they take at the end of the year, to test their writing skills. In other words, writing is a biggie in fifth grade. On any given school day, you would find us either making a graphic organizer for what we wanted to say, drafting, revising, editing, publishing, or sharing. Same story over and over, all year long.



On this particular day, we were starting a new paper. The idea we were going off of was: Describe Your Favorite Place. After walking around the room for what seemed like an eternity, I finally got to the little girl's desk. Nothing. She was just sitting there, staring straight ahead. Not one word on her paper. I quickly asked her why she had not written anything down. From sad, lost eyes, she looked up at me and said "But I've never been anywhere nice." It took me a minute to let what the girl had said sink in.


Never been anywhere nice? How could this be? Most kids go at least to the mall, see Santa at Christmastime, vacations, to the park, somewhere. It finally hit me why this little girl couldn't write or read well. We have to have life experiences. Don't believe me? You take child A that has went on vacations and had lots of experiences, and he'll out read or write child B that has had very minimal contact with the public. (It's proven in research.)


Anyway, I finally convinced the girl to imagine a place so wonderful, she could see it, smell it and hear it in her mind. I helped her jot her ideas down, thinking it was a shame. Not because she had never went anywhere, but because middle class citizens like myself take "going" for granted.


I still think about that little girl and wonder if she ever made it to anyplace "nice." I sure hope so, if only in her dreams.

Thankful #17: Christmas Tree Dreams

We all see those perfect Christmas trees at the mall, in catalogs, and in homes we'd take our shoes off before entering. I have always wanted that tree. The tree that's artificial but looks like it needs water? The one that starts 8 feet up and goes ALL the way to the floor? For years, there was a yearning in my soul for that tree. It always seemed like no matter how perfect the decorating was, it was never the tree I had longed for.


Last Christmas, I broke down and bought a Slim Tree off of Ebay. I anticipated the day of arrival, like a kid waiting for a present in the mail. For a whopping $45 bucks, I soon realized this was the one. This Christmas tree is 3ft wide, 7ft high, has branches from top to bottom, and is the epitome of Christmas trees around the world.



The best thing about a slim tree is that it's easy to assemble (takes less than 30 minutes), easy to store, doesn't take as many ornaments or lights, and I don't have to walk around it like some big bear hanging out in my living room. If you have a small living room, I would highly suggest the slim tree. I've waited all my life for mine.



I am thankful for my slim tree. Who'd have thought that my Christmas tree dreams could come true, all for $45.00?

Sleep Walking Straight to Mama's Bed

Confession time. When my husband is gone, I do not sleep alone and I never have. Thanks to a habit that I started 8 years ago, my youngest child still finds his way to the pillow beside me every night. It's usually about 2 in the morning, when I'm far, far away in my happy place. It's like he has a magic sleep walker program in his brain, "Mama's bed...mama's bed....mama's bed...."


I'm not one of these people you see on television that delight in every family member sharing the same bed, or co-sleeping. No, we've tried everything to get this kid out of the bed, all but locking the bedroom door. My purpose behind that is fear of something happening. You know, opening the door to 100ft flames, or 100ft waves? Seriously.


All I know is that this is going to have to come to an end. My wits will probably get there first.

Happy Birthday, M-I-C-K-E-Y M-O-U-S-E

Mickey Mouse is living a lot longer 100 times over what other mice live. That's right, today is Mickey's birthday and he's 80 years old. His proud father, Walt Disney, once said,"I love Mickey Mouse more than any woman I’ve ever known." I would too, if a rat had brought in that much money for me. In any case, he's brought magic to childhood for 80 years, and that's worth something!



Mickey turning 80 means that even old people remember saw him as a child. He never ages. No wrinkles, no drops, no sagging, not even a gray whisker. That's my kind of aging!

Happy 80th Birthday Mickey Mouse! You're one heck of a rat~

Hey Son, I Know You're 2, But.......Want a Beer?

In weird news, a father was sited at a county fair in Wisconsin. For what, you may ask. Another soul in the idiot army bought his 2 and 4 year old sons a beer, while enjoying rides and games at the annual fair. The story doesn't stop there, but gets even better.



What did cops do about it? Not one thing, nothing, nada. It seems that in Wisconsin, parents can't be charged with buying alcohol for minors, when it's their own children. Now that's one of those laws that makes you want to give your State Official a hug! The man did get sited for telling the police off. "Uhm, sir, you can let your children get as tore up as you'd like them to be. Just don't be rude to me, or I might have to write ya a ticket!"



Dad to four year old at a game booth, "Son, I know you've had one too many, but I believe you can hit that target. Come on, concentrate." To which the son replies, "What target? I see hundreds of targets and they're all moving." HA~ Funny, yet ridiculous.



Mom must have been a real jewel. These parents are contributing to delinquency at a very young age...You're teaching 'em well, daddy that buys beer. The next thing you know, dad's gonna having the kids auditioning for "Real Men (Kids) of Genius." You know, the Bud Light commercials? "Here's to you, Little Mr. Drunk Tonka Dump Truck Driver, Real Kid of Genius." (I've included a clip of the Real Men of Genius to refresh your memory if you forgot.)

(Boy standing in front of the ferris wheel ride) "Come on dad, lead me to the ferris wheel, cause I'm having trouble finding it. It's got to be around here somewhere." Dad to child,"It's right there son. Now you go get on the ride while I grab us a beer."

Thankful 16: I'm Not A Bird

Poor birds, they don't have a chance.
Meow~

Do.Not.Call.

The phone rings. "Hellll-o?" "Yes we are looking for a Jennifer (last name inserted here)." "Who's we?" I say in my spry southern drawl. "We'd like to discuss some business matters with her." (Keeping it private like they are some sort of hit-man for hire!) So I reply, "Well, all her business is taken care of, but thanks for calling." Click~


I just get tired of 'em. I put my 7 digits on the do.not.call. list. Don't these people get the "do not" before "call?" Telemarketers or bill collectors, they call anyway. Someone has got such a great dang deal that they completely ignore the list, figure I'd jump out of my skin and scream to high heaven, to get a shot at their product or service.



Bill collectors are the best. I haven't had a lot of 'em call, but when they do I try and remind them of the "Do Not Call" Law. It never works but it's worth a try. I just agree to send them the $50.00 I'm supposed to every month until whatever it is that was so important way back when, gets paid off.



In the past year I've had a bill collector calling MY house, looking for the ex sister-in-law @ 50 times. Do they not realize how crazy of an idea this is and that I will never tell 'em where she is? I want all her stuff to get repo'd. Telling them where she is would help her out. Plus, she lives 250 miles from me and my last name is different so how do they get my number but can't get hers? I usually tell 'em that they should just go get her stuff.....


The best of both worlds are the ones I can't understand. No offense to anyone, but they know I only speak English. WHY O WHY, would you give me as a client to someone that speaks broken English? (I'm being very generous here~) I can't understand 'em, and don't try.



I simply say, "Ah Sir/Mam, you gonna have to put somebody on this phone that can talk English." To which I get the reply, " I can speak English." Then I have to (in a nice tone) tell him/her, "Well, it's obviously not your first language, and since it ain't (that always screws with 'em), you ain't gonna understand anything I say. Let's just save both of us some trouble. I need to speak with somebody born in the United States." By the time someone else gets on the phone, I've had 3 lessons in foreign language, learning only words that would get me killed in another county.




Telemarketers and Bill Collectors, Cause Somebody's Gotta Do It!

Accomodations for Nosey People

My friends over at Blog Mad give me permission to snoop other people's pages. Really! It's kinda like giving me the go ahead to hear a next door neighbor's phone conversation. That, my friend, is a wonderful feeling for a nosey woman.


Blog Mad is a traffic exchange where you review blogs. If you see one you like, you stop, look around, read posts, and then silently exit like a nosey neighbor. It's the creepy "I know more than I did when I entered" type of feeling. I have found a lot of good networks and blogs that I now have on my blogroll through this means. It's not that I intentionally invade other people's privacy. (Heck, I love for some unknown person to visit my page. It makes me feel resourceful.)

I love reading other folks' ideas on things. Sometimes, it makes me change the way I see things, myself. I don't know what it's like to live in a big city, cause I never have. If I read the blog of someone that does, I'm instantly "enlightened," and then realize why I never lived in a big city....

Thanks Blog Mad, for taking the time to accommodate nosey people and fit them into this bloggy circle.

Thankful 15: Recipes

I am sittin' here, proud of myself~ I have just left the front porch, went to town, made a speech, and have returned home. Not really, but that's what it feels like. I just made my first post on BlogHer!


Since I've became addicted to blogging (sharing information that makes you wonder how a country girl could be so educated and talk like I do), I joined. People on there don't talk or write like me,so I sat back and watched/read. I have read articles for the last 3 or 4 days, sizing them up. There are a LOT of people on that network, my friend.


Tonight, as if the country angel came over me, I decide that I would post something for the BlogHer network. Country was comin' to town, honey.


Ok, I wimped out, and posted my favorite Christmas candy recipe....HA! I know, it was the easy way out, but it is a yummy recipe that anyone from BFE to TimBuckTwo would enjoy. You can check out my post on my Blogger sidebar under My BlogHer Post. Click on the link and it will take you straight to it.


I'm expecting to hear from them within the next week for some sort of BlogHer Country Bloggy Award..... HA~


I am thankful for recipes. After all, it saved my speech on BlogHer~

The Day the Rooster Died

I saw some chickens and roosters today in an old chicken yard on the way to get my boys. Took me back to the day.....


We raised chickens when I was a kid. (Fresh brown eggs are so much better!)They had a nice little chicken house, complete with a chicken yard, out close to the garden. It would have been "chicken heaven" for any 'ole chicken or rooster. Of course, just like people, they get greedy.


There was this one banty rooster, black and white. He was a "haus" and that was his yard when he was out. All the other roosters knew it too, so they stayed far away from him. (The picture in this post is as close as it gets to what he actually looked like.)



My mama went to feed the chickens. On this day, Banty wasn't in such a good mood. When my mother went to walk away, he got the bright idea that he would spur her. Oh, he tried, but didn't actually do it. She got out of the chicken yard before he could. Mama went and got Daddy, which promptly went to the yard.



He found a rake. Need I say more? Banty never ruled the roost again. Heck, he never ruled anything again. Our maid, Ida B., enjoyed a delicious rooster meal that night for supper. Not that roosters remember, but none of the others ever tried to spur my mama after that infamous day the rooster died.



I'll talk about the pigs later ~

Jobs Meant for Someone Else....

Watching Dr. G, the Medical Examiner, is very exciting yet creepy to watch. I'm just glad I don't have her job. I'd be scared someone would jump up and yell "boo," grab my hand, or move in some way to make me faint/throw up. Facing my reality, there are just some jobs other people, BESIDES ME, need. Top of the list: Medical Examiner.


"Classic Jennifer" would be worrying that I cut the heart out of someone that really wasn't dead, had a faint chance of coming back alive or somewhere in between. I would need to be there as a result from all the worrying, cause it'd probably kill me. Another reason I couldn't do this job is the SMELL...UGH~ Dr. G takes it all in stride, makes good money, and rightfully so. No one else wants her job.


Which brings me to the second job: Mortician. These guys make a lot of money and will never have to worry about not having business, cause they offer a service everyone needs at one point or another. There again, how do they stand the smell? Is it like the perfume we wear? We get used to it and really forget it's on, until someone tells us how good it smells?


The last job that I would never have is psychic/palm reader/etc. Do these people go to school for this? I don't want to know my future or anyone else's for that matter. No offense, but if they are so good at their job, how come none of them ever win the lottery? If I was really a psychic, I'd know all the numbers and work them to my advantage, honey. It kinda creeps me out that someone would know my future, besides God, cause what if He changed something about it? Reading my horoscope in the morning newspaper and opening a fortune cookie when eating Chinese are about as far as I go with people knowing what's going to happen.


Medical Examiner, Mortician, and Psychic: Three jobs that were meant for someone else besides me.

Thankful #13 and 14: Prayer and Karma

I know, I know, I'm running behind in my "Thankful Posts" for the month of November. It almost makes me seem like I'm not thankful. I am. Some thing have taken place this past week that I won't bore you with, but they've really gotten to me. I can't go into detail and you wouldn't want me to if I could, so I'll leave it at that. Anyway, I wouldn't post anything on my page that I myself wouldn't want to read. I hate going to pages where he/she moans and groans about some facet of life in every post. Please, if I need problems, I can get out my own list.



Isn't that the way most of us are, even with our friends, neighbors and kinfolk? That is why I am so thankful for prayer. Even when I don't behave like I should, talk with a clean mouth, or read my Bible daily, the Lord still loves to hear from me and I from Him. It's good to know that no matter what we go through in life, we have a channel of help no one can take away from us, that being prayer. It is our bridge over troubled waters to our source of help in a time of need. I am so thankful that I can tell the Maker of the whole wide World what's bothering or excites me, and it does the same for Him. Prayer is like winning a prize I don't deserve.



God makes sure of Karma. You know, "What goes around comes around." That is something else I am so very thankful for. Not that I've done a million good deeds in this lifetime, but those that I have do not go unnoticed. Neither do yours. He is the all seeing, all knowing. This goes for people that do things to hurt others as well. He knows, and things will come back around to bite on the butt.




For prayer and karma, I am not worthy. By His Grace, I receive the gift of both.

Ridin' Dirty

One of my best memories about childhood is running to catch the ice cream truck. For a whole fifty cents, I could get anything I wanted. Looking at my hips these days, I probably shouldn't have caught it quite so many times.


This summer, I hear the music from afar, and just have to let my own kids get ice cream. I want them to share in the experience of something that may not be around for their own children. I grab a couple of dollars, and we head to the door. Hearing the music get closer and closer, I'm patting myself on the back as a natural born June Cleaver. Finally after much anticipation, it rounds the corner on two wheels.


The boys are so excited, they can hardly contain themselves. Waving their dollars high in the air, the truck gets close enough to read the stickers on the side. As if by natural instinct, each boy lowers his dollar and looks at the other, as if to say "Are you sure?"


Not having had a wash since 1979 (when I bought ice cream), the truck was on a it's last wheel. Not only do we still question the color of the truck (white or gray?) but it's contents as well. You see, Blue Bunny is "Blunny," (due to the middle part of the sticker missing) and Nutty Buddy is just "Buddy." I convince the kids it's ok. It's just the truck....then the window flies open.


Each child insists the other goes first, to see if his sibling makes it back in the yard alive. I walk to the truck window with both boys, and I am instantly ready to fall over laughing. The server has a cigarette literally between her gums. She has all of 3 teeth, with 2 of 'em being in her pocket. Mrs. Driver is brushing her long hair, shedding like a cat.



Thank goodness the ice cream is SEALED. It's not the dip and serve of the olden days. This ice cream is bought ready to sell. Any other time, we would just go to the grocery store for this kind of ice cream. On this day I am very thankful for a seal, assuring myself the kids won't be eating ashes and hair balls.


We pay for the ice cream and come inside. I think to myself that instead of "It's a Small World," the song should be "Ridin' Dirty."

The Blue Monkey

No, it's not a night club, honky tonk, or anything close. Blue Monkey is a musical stuffed gorilla my son won at a charity bicycle ride several, several years ago. Cleaning up today, I saw Blue and thought about all the things he's taught us. Yes, even one heck of an ugly stuffed animal can teach us lessons.

We had this game we played with Blue Monkey. Our game went like this: The person holding Blue pushed the paw and threw it to one of the other players. That player had to throw it away before the music stopped. The person left holding Blue Monkey when the music stopped, lost that round.

It was fun, funny and competitive. Besides that, the game taught us: we get things we don't want sometimes (i.e. events), give things we don't want away, and repeat the process....All Compliments of Blue Monkey~

Snips and Snails and Puppy Dog Tails....NOT

Living with boys is like running through the jungle - you never know what to expect. My boys are a joy and yet, they hate pink! I've learned to like blue though it's been a tough transition. At times, I think my house should be painted blue, but then again, I don't have to tell ANYONE that boys live here. They already know.


What are some of the joys of having boys? Oh, my friend, there are numerous benefits.

1. If boys are outside and have to pee, it's on. (They could actually live in a house with no bathroom!)
2. Boys are not modest- They can pee and wave at the same time
3. Only half of the grass in the backyard needs cutting - four wheeler tires can eat the grass right off the ground
4. Walking around in boxers after 6pm is an automatic, just as shirtless summers and "long john" winters
   
5. Boys don't stress when they: miss the commode, have stinky feet, or need to pass gas- (Let 'em lose a baseball, and it's worse than a girl misplacing Ken, even with a box full of Barbies)
6. Give him a football, he plays for a day- Teach him football and he argues for lifetime
   
7. Boys can make a game out of anything...a pillow, a rock, a rope (Keep away, bet you can't take this from me...)
8. Boogers, burps, and gas are part of the masculine side and are to be celebrated...loud and proud
9. Boys like dirt-they forget moms don't
   
10. Getting something on their clothing is like a battle scar- the story has to be told
    
11. Xbox and Playstation 2 are necessities - without them, they can not live
12. Spiderman and Hulk are more important than ANYONE in Washington
13. Do not, I repeat DO NOT talk bad about their favorite team or any member on it- you are risking your life if you do
14. Last, boys don't have to go to the bathroom in pairs- to them, it doesn't matter if they visit the bathROOM at all...(see #1)

Snips and Snails and Puppy Dog Tails...NOT!


Try Burps, Boogers and Gas, This too Shall Pass~

I'm Getting An Engagement Ring

No, I'm not a polygamist! I'm happily married to one husband that forgets how important jewelry is to a girl, and like all men, has to be reminded at times. This Christmas I'm getting an engagement ring. It's no ordinary ring.

The man of my dreams hand picked this ring all by his lonesome. (Gosh, I hope it's pretty!) He spent many hard earned dollars on this gem. Like a kid counting down the hours for Santa, I can't wait.

Yes, we did put:

• the cart before the horse
• the band before the diamond
• the shoe before the sock

~ (and all the other analogies you can think of) ~

It's ok, though, because love lives here.

The Teacher Is Getting Nothing From Santa Claus

Christmas is showing up everywhere...starting LAST week. Doesn't it make you all excited with fuzzy wuzzies in your heart? I think back to making Christmas ornaments (my mom still has some), the cheap tinsel that looked like a feather boa (except shiny), waiting for Santa, and then HER.

Last year, my then 3rd grader came home demanding to know why I had lied about Santa. I choked, coughed and sputtered, asking where he had gotten such a ridiculous idea. I always wanted to be the one to explain life's biggest moments to him. This was one of them, along with the birds and the bees, where babies come from, the Tooth Fairy and falling in love. Santa Claus was at the very top of the "things you must know by the time you're 21" list. Yes I know, a little sheltering.

Buddy told me that his teacher talked to the whole class about Santa Claus all day. What? Are you kidding? What happened to reading, writing and arithmetic, which I happen to know she is responsible for EVERY day? Nope, on this day it was Santa. She explained that parents put toys/gifts under the tree and there is no man in a red suit.

Jesus, they don't make 'em like they used to. I gently sat him down and thought very carefully of how I'd explain it. I said to him, "What an imagination your teacher has to think that HER parents could go all the way around the world in 1 night, putting toys and gifts under every child's Christmas tree." It satisfied his longing for answers and my longing to make her into the nitwit she was for telling a classroom full of 8 year olds something that only their parents had the right to do.

Christmas is still Christmas in his childlike mind, complete with the jolly fat man in the red suit. He'll figure this life out quickly enough. Let him be a kid while he's still a kid.

I'm Lost

Last night, I decided to join NaBloPoMo. I was all excited, joined some groups of people I didn't know, with common interest or circumstances as mine. Thinking that I would finally get my "Welcome Aboard" letter in the mailbox today, I went straight to yahoo.

There it was, but it did not say Welcome Aboard. Seems I entered the blog name, not the blog roll. What is a blog roll anyway and where do I get one for my page? I have all these little RSS feeders, blog catalog, etc. and still not sure about a blogroll.

The more I think I know about this, the less I really do.

What is Reading?

As an highly qualified educator for the State of Alabama, I feel that I am denying the faith by not posting some sort of education help tool for those that have kids. Since reading is my favorite, and many, many children struggle with reading, I decided I would commit to posting help tools for parents/aunts/uncles/friend of a friend, of struggling readers. Since this is the first post, I want to talk about WHAT reading really is.


Have you ever met a child that read like a well oiled machine? Of course, we all have. Then there's little Johnny that seems to struggle with every word. Many people do not realize there are several important PARTS and they all make up the process we call reading.

Reading is defined as "the cognitive process of decoding symbols for the purpose of deriving meaning and/or constructing meaning." In real life terms, it's being able to sound out, understand, and use the words we see . The parts to this reading puzzle are so very important. (I'll give a brief, everyday definition next to each one.)

1. Phonemic Awareness - Using individual sounds to make words
   
2. Phonics- For each letter, there is a sound
3. Fluency- Smooth, quick and concise reading; not choppy (Remember the "well oiled machine?")
4. Vocabulary- What words mean
   
5. Comprehension- Being able to understand, remember and use the words he/she has read
   

That's all I'm going to post about reading for this time. It's important to understand that ALL of these pieces make up the reading process, and one is NOT more important than the other.

Today a reader, tomorrow a leader.~ W. Fusselman ~

Thankful 11 and 12: Common Sense and Creativity

I'm going to post these 2 together, because they kinda run hand in hand. There is a lot I lack in book smarts. Although I had a 3.85 GPA, I had to DIG! Many of you that are college grads, or have went to college, know exactly what I'm talking about. Late, late nights, tears and sweat got me there.

Some folks naturally have a knack for taking a test and acing it, without ever cracking a book. I was cracking books, eggs, cups, and whatever else I could find, from the aggravation, at times. I did have the common sense to know I had to study.

Common sense comes in many forms. Some people are naturally "out there." They have all the book sense in the world, but can't tie their shoes, cause they're too busy tripping over them.

I'm also thankful for creativity. I am an "outside the box" thinker, always have been. It gets me in trouble at times, and helps at others.

Several of my best "outside the box" jobs include:

• Making a mean fireplace for a school play out of a refrigerator box: Turned sideways (spray painted with an opening in the middle), real logs placed in the opening, and bulletin board paper crumpled, shaped and cut to resemble a fire.
• Christmas Classroom Door: The classroom door was the door to the gingerbread house. Red and white bulletin board paper was twisted and hot glued all the way up for the sides, large triangle all the way over the door (roof), white scalloped paper on edges to resemble the icing, everything else covered in brown paper...
• The Styrofoam from ground beef packaging cleans up to make nice cuts outs for Christmas ornaments, adding sequins and glue.
  

For the life of me, I do not know where these things come from. I can tell you I am thankful to be creative, 'cause as a once upon a time single mom, it came in handy many times over. (Thank you, ex husband, you brought out the creative side in me.)

I'm no Martha Stewart. I barely sew, don't quilt, crochet, paint, or any of that, but I am creative enough to make something from ALMOST nothing.

Thankful, yes I am...for having common sense and jumping out of the box of stagnant thinking.

Blog Authority ...Tag You're It Challenge

Want more blog traffic, by advertising your blog on ALOT of other people's page? Join the Technorati Challenge Experiment. It's so simple, even a country gal can do it...and THAT, my friend, is simple.



The Mom With Brownies has a simple, cut and dry numbered list. Go to her page, follow directions and add your address to her post.

(Comments on her blog are moderated. She adds links once a day, so go back to make sure you have the whole list and your blog is listed on your blog as the correct number)~FYI- YOU HAVE TO GO BACK TO HER BLOG or it will not work~

Don't forget to add Your Link to the List on your website.

Behold, your authority will rise.

Copy This List (put in your blog post) -

1. THE MOM WITH BROWNIES

2. Our High School Homeschool

3. THE BIG DOG

4. ARE YOU PART OF THE SERIOUS BLOGGER ADlog?

5. Thoughts From the Front Porch

6. My Opinion Counts

7. The Pond

8. Your Fun Family

9. 1stopmom

10. Juicy Blog

11. ------->PUT YOUR BLOG HERE<-----------

I think this is going to be fun. I'm always up for a challenge~

The In-laws/Out-laws...Whichever They May Be

Is there anything like having bad in-laws? Ugh! Been there, done that, brought back a tee shirt and 2 great kids. Why did I punish myself? Was it the "I deserve this" theory, or was it "I'm going to change things around here...one tantrum at a time?" I think a little of both. Things never were the same around that place, thanks to 'ole me.

As a survivor of the Out-laws, I promised myself that if I EVER married again, it would have to be to someone who's parents were dead. Yep, you heard me right....D-E-A-D. I didn't want to visit that theme park again.

Why do some parents of married children find it hard to let go, even when the grown child is nearing social security himself? 58 years is long enough to raise a child, mama...let him go, slowly, slowly, that a way....Good girl!Like a toy they just can't let go of, they hold, and grab. It makes it hard on their married child, feeling like he/she must choose between the chocolate ice cream mom makes, or the grandmaw's vanilla. Either way, they lose, and someone feels spited.

What's worse, many of these "grown children" still live in a ten year-old world. You know, the one where their whole wide world is made up of the yard, the house, family members, the trees...nothing important exists outside the picket fence.

I have 2 boys of my own, and I will be a in-law one day. I have promised myself and my God that I would love whoever (Jesus that's scary) my children marry. Not because she is perfect, pretty or even middle class, but just because my child loves her. I too, will love her.

I have the best IN-laws in the world, now. They love my children, me and best of all, they don't meddle. I enjoy spending time with my husband's parents, because they only want to know what I tell them. The world extends beyond the yard and they realize their children are grown. Thanks Bobbie, you are a great mother in law.


Life is well with the in-laws. Good luck to the soul that has to has to compete with the out-laws...

Dear Woman At The Park

Dear Woman at the Park,

I'm sure you'll remember me from the comments I made to you, while you sat several swings down from my son. You obviously have taught your 6 (or 7) year old son nothing concerning home training. Yes, Miss Mam, you have done a very poor job, failing to teach him when to open/shut his mouth or tolerance for people that are different than himself.

It is possible that you may not know yourself, due to lack of intervention or explanation. My son fell off the tire swing, because he has no second hand, like you and I, to steady the swing while he got on. Laying there, face down in the wood chips, with his prosthetic leg several feet away, you did nothing while your son hollers "ugh" and points, like he had leprosy. For this reason, I find it hard to believe that your parenting skills are up to par, or even close. It's also astonishing to me that I, myself, did not "open up a can" on you.


Yes, I blame you, because you could have explained, or called the child to you. That was too much for your weary soul to bear, so you did what any good soldier in the idiot army would do: nothing. Children, especially yours, need to know that it's ok for people to be different than they are. We don't all look the same, and it's quite alright.

I will end by saying that I hope you visit Land of 1000 Legs every night, and they chase you in your sleep, up and down the road. It is my prayer, dear lady, that one kicks you in your lazy tail, gets stuck there and wakes you up just when people point and begin to holler "ugh."

Thankful #10: Laughter, in the Wrong Doses

Have you ever laughed at the most INAPPROPRIATE time? Funerals, church, weddings, speeches, whatever, as if the world was knocking and no one was home. I have done this countless times, and I'm sure there are people that bear emotional scars to this day, hearing me laugh at the wrong time, thinking I was suffering some sort of mental laughing illness. You know, the kind of laugh that people wake up in cold sweats over?

When I was a sophomore in high school, a band member died in an awful car crash. Of course, we were all there at the funeral together, very tore up from the event. My best friend snorted while crying, and it was on. We both laughed hysterically like we were center stage at Comedy Central....wrong time, wrong place. Sad to say, but people thought we were crying uncontrollably, when in all actuality, we were laughing our butts off. Not that the event didn't hurt us, we just found something to sidetrack our minds.

I used to have this problem when I went to junior college, too. During speech, I would get up to speak and before I could say 1 word, laughter had filled not only the room, but the halls, like I had just heard the best joke ever. Many times, other teachers would come check to make sure things would be ok, eventually. Wrong time, wrong place....

I am so thankful for laughter. It helps us get through life. My favorite kind of laughter is at other people's embarrassments and misfortunes. Yes, it's one of those "wrong time, wrong place" laughs, but if someone falls (and it's NOT me) then it's on, once again. If they go and screw something up, especially in front of a bunch of people, it's funny to the nth power.

Do you have a wrong time, wrong place laughter story? Please share it, so that people can see other inappropriate acts of the laughing illness. Be sure to vote in the "Inappropriate Laughter" poll below.




Laughter is the best medicine, even used in inappropriate doses~

My Roots Are Turning Blonde, Not Gray...

I was cleaning out the "blog closet" yesterday, narrowing my favorites. If it's a blog I added that really don't post much, or the content doesn't suit my needs as a reader, it goes in the "give away" pile, cause someone else could use it much more than I could.


Here I am, on a favorite, looking around. I look at the Followers headline in this unnamed blog, just to make sure my picture is there, and hasn't been replaced with some old lady missing half her teeth, using my name. Yep, it's there, along with a lot of other followers.


Just above our pictures are the words "Stop Following" with a little icon of a person. What? This person must not realize WHO I am. I'm a wife, a mama, I hold down the fort and I have a VERY important life. You want me to "stop following" your blog? With as much dignity and southern grace as I could muster, I clicked the "stop following" button. I then went back to the page to make sure I wasn't following, as per request, and then it hit me like a ton of bricks, thrown off the top of a house....


ALL the followers of this blog were under those words. It's not the blog owner telling me he doesn't want me to follow his blog. The button is there just in case someone that does subscribe decides to quit following.


Whew~that was a close one. My self worth was not destroyed and my life remains important. Instead of gray, my roots MUST be turning blonde, cause I just had one heck of a blonde moment!

Jonestown Kool-Aid

Late last night, I was watching a story on the History Channel about Jonestown. For those that aren't old enough to remember, you can read about it here. I would have not been a very favored member of the Jonestown community, because I don't easily conform to weird stuff. Matter fact, I don't conform to much at all.


If by chance I would've been brainwashed to be one of his followers, once the alter call for Kool-aid was made, steps swiftly would've been made toward the back door during the invitational hymn. (I would've wanted 'ole Jim to try the Kool-Aid first.)


I did not realize that there were survivors of Jonestown. People actually did run, get away, and live to tell about it. Others weren't so lucky, like the little children that were obedient to their crazed parents, telling them to drink. The children cried, begging to live to see tomorrow. How pathetic is that?


Jim Jones had those people so brainwashed that they thought everyone in the whole world was out to get them. Truth of the matter is, Jim Jones was scared of his own shadow and wanted "watch dogs."


One thing's for sure: Jonestown Kool-aid packs one heck of a punch! I don't think I'll look at the "Kool-Aid Man" the same, ever again...Thanks, Jim Jones, for ruining my childhood imagery. (You know, the one where kids thought "The Kool-aid man" was a REAL person?)

Thankful #9: Holland

As a parent of a child with a limb deficiency, I was given a poem right after his birth, from someone that I didn't even know. I think this poem does immaculate justice in explaining the exact feelings of what a parent goes through, upon having heard the news.

(Just a couple of side notes: No, we didn't know before hand, no, it wouldn't have changed anything if we did, no we don't know what happened, no I did not do drugs/alcohol while pregnant, and NO, we do not want your sympathy! This was shared just to give you a little inspiration @ what a little boy with no left arm and a prosthetic left leg means to me.)

WELCOME TO HOLLAND

by
Emily Perl Kingsley.

c1987 by Emily Perl Kingsley. All rights reserved

I am often asked to describe the experience of raising a child with a disability - to try to help people who have not shared that unique experience to understand it, to imagine how it would feel. It's like this......

When you're going to have a baby, it's like planning a fabulous vacation trip - to Italy. You buy a bunch of guide books and make your wonderful plans. The Coliseum. The Michelangelo David. The gondolas in Venice. You may learn some handy phrases in Italian. It's all very exciting.

After months of eager anticipation, the day finally arrives. You pack your bags and off you go. Several hours later, the plane lands. The stewardess comes in and says, "Welcome to Holland."

"Holland?!?" you say. "What do you mean Holland?? I signed up for Italy! I'm supposed to be in Italy. All my life I've dreamed of going to Italy."

But there's been a change in the flight plan. They've landed in Holland and there you must stay.

The important thing is that they haven't taken you to a horrible, disgusting, filthy place, full of pestilence, famine and disease. It's just a different place.

So you must go out and buy new guide books. And you must learn a whole new language. And you will meet a whole new group of people you would never have met.

It's just a different place. It's slower-paced than Italy, less flashy than Italy. But after you've been there for a while and you catch your breath, you look around.... and you begin to notice that Holland has windmills....and Holland has tulips. Holland even has Rembrandts.

But everyone you know is busy coming and going from Italy... and they're all bragging about what a wonderful time they had there. And for the rest of your life, you will say "Yes, that's where I was supposed to go. That's what I had planned."

And the pain of that will never, ever, ever, ever go away... because the loss of that dream is a very very significant loss.

But... if you spend your life mourning the fact that you didn't get to Italy, you may never be free to enjoy the very special, the very lovely things ... about Holland.

It's been a trip well worth taking~

"Buddy" plays baseball, is in boy scouts, loves football, has played soccer and is one amazing kid, that I'm proud to call mine.

Say My Name, Say My Name (The Right One)

Don't you hate it when you're out in a public place, an individual walks up to you and calls you the WRONG NAME? My kids have been the culprit about this lately, and it's crazy/hilarious to me!

Friday night we were in the grocery store parking lot, finding a place to park. My youngest child sees a lady he THINKS he knows. He commences to raise down the window when we get even with her, and says "Hey, Mrs. Lee." The poor lady politely speaks, with a puzzled look on her face. I tell him "I don't think that's her." He doesn't stop there, as if it wasn't enough. He gets out of the car, walks up to where the poor, scarred and scared lady is, and says it again. "Hey, Mrs. Lee." Once we had walked into the store, he realized he had mistaken the woman's identity. Gosh, is there ever a rock big enough to crawl under for that?

It doesn't end there, but continues with my neighbor, which is actually where their virus of mistaken identity started. Nancy, whose name I was unaware of until @ 3 weeks ago, has only been our neighbor for a short time. Every time the kids have seen that woman in the yard, they holler "Hey, Mrs. Bobby," and continue on their merry way. She speaks, like she is saying hello to someone with Alzheimer's.

I have repeatedly told the kids, "I don't think that's her name," and just like a true Alzheimer's patient, they continued to call her "Bobby." Finally, today, the oldest stops and says,"Hey, Mrs. Bobby, what's your name?"

Oh, Jesus, it's finally out. She replies "Nancy," like she has just indicated someone for murder. The boys just say "Oh," and continue on their way, no more embarrassed than speaking to "Mrs. Lee."

Isn't life with kids one big comedy?

Thankful #8...Diet Coke~ Just for the Joy of It!

Ok, I missed my Thankful Post #8 yesterday...so sue me~ you might get a dime, but then again....

Anyway, I'm makin' up for it today. I'm thankful for Diet Coke. (No, I'm not off my rocker tonight.) You may not understand why I chose diet coke to be thankful for, but then again, you don't understand our irreplaceable relationship either.

Diet Coke has been with me for sooooooo long. It's always been a monogamous relationship and I would NEVER think about replacing it. From late night college studies to being in the hospital several times in my adult life, DC has always been there for me.

Like any other relationship, I realize it's not always good for me. Kinda like someone that you're in love with, but should leave, I realize I should leave DC. Just like that "someone," I return to it time and again to bring me comfort and joy. It does, time and time again....Ok, enough...this is starting to sound more like something else....HA... It's just Diet Coke....

For the cold cup of joy it offers me, I'm thankful. Diet Coke~I'm a mean girl without one!

Policeman Deserves a Ticket

How does someone in public service, i.e a police officer mess up The National Anthem? After all the football games, ceremonies, and events that they attend as security, where they hear it over and over? Even his fellow officers were trying very hard not to laugh! Take a look at robo cop in the beginning, as his demeanor changes.

I understand being off key, not having a singing voice, or pausing too long/not long enough, but not knowing the words? The people there felt so sorry for him that they were trying to help him finish the song, for fear it would never end.

He didn't just butcher it, he mutilated it piece by piece. I know I would've peed in my pants from laughing. He needs a ticket for a Noise Ordinance or Disturbing the Peace, cause what was coming out of his mouth was a very disturbing noise.

No Homeless Shelter....

We woke up this morning and the kids were having a moment. I decided not to go to the shelter today, which was a real let down. We had so much to do today, anyway. We were traveling to the city for my nephew's birthday party this afternoon.

By the time we would've got there, we'd only have 2 hours to volunteer. I wanted to go and make a day of it. Maybe a Saturday closer to Thanksgiving. Bummer....

Thankful #7: Home

Home is where you hang your heart. With things going the way they are, I'm very thankful to have a home. It's not the HG TV makeover house, just a little country home filled with memories, love, laughter, and a lot of second hand finds.

A house is just a house, till it's filled with love. It's where you let your guard down, to be who you really are, when no one's looking. Live, Laugh, Love...all at home.

Country road, take me home, to the place where I belong.....

Panhandling for Profit

It's true and it's in the news. People actually stand on the street corners of large cities, decked out in their tattered clothing, working on people's emotions as a part-time job, like a side job at McDonalds.

The average panhandler makes $10.00 and hour. Not bad, considering it's part thrill and part profit. According to newsoftheweird.com, the net even has blogs and tips to get more money when you approach a vehicle or person. This is dirty dog to the high heavens.

I'm not an active contributor to people standing on street corners for several reasons. First, I don't make it to the big city but about twice a month. I'm also a penny pincher. (Saving the money we do have takes a very skilled individual...uh, uhm.) Next, how do I know these people aren't buying booze or smokes (not the legal kind either?) The way I see it, they MAY be down on their luck, but they could be at homeless shelters, unemployment offices, somewhere of virtue to help them in the long run.

Give a man a fish, he eats for a day. Teach a man to fish, he eats for a lifetime. For those that are doing it for the extra money, may their fishing holes run dry, and the "fish" come back to fin 'em in the behind.

Volunteering Firsts

We are going tomorrow to volunteer at the local Homeless Shelter. I'll have to admit I'm a little NERVOUS! Can you believe that? This is the first time my children and I have ever volunteered and I'm not sure what to expect. So goes the feelings of the unknown. It was my idea...I always come up with the good ones (thanks hun.)


Tomorrow's trip has 2 purposes: First to give back to those less fortunate than we are. The second purpose is to teach a lesson. Seriously, my oldest child, which is in the fourth grade, hates school. He would quit tomorrow if he could. That doesn't set so well with someone IN the education field, i.e. me. Soooo, I want him to have a little insight to the poverty and want of not having an education.


It's not to knock those that need help. There may even be, perhaps, well educated people there, down on their luck, needing help. (I'm sure they would be the minority, though.)


I'm really excited and looking forward to giving back. I hope there are at least a few people that will encourage him and share their stories to help motivate this child to lean toward education. We'll see....wish us luck!

Barney Bites!

The Pres. has a small guard dog on his hands, these days. That's right, Barney, the little terrier belonging to Dubya, bit a reporter, after he felt threatened.

I have to give it to Barney, he had every right to bite this man.

1. A strange man
2. Dog was on a leash
3. The reporter randomly tried to pet a dog that didn't even know him

Who does this anyway, with the Pres.'s dog? It's not like it was just some nice man on the street that had a cute doggie he decided to pet. He's lucky the CIA wasn't all up in his business. Now THAT would have been a news story...CIA Attacks Man for Trying to Pet Dubya's Dog....

After it was all over, the man held up his wounded, band-aid branded finger, like it was some sort of war wound, that he'll go down in history with. I'll bet he thinks twice before that kind of PR again.

Mirror, Mirror

Shrek, Hallie Berry and Denzel Washington were all having lunch together. Shrek said, 'I have always thought that I'm the strongest man in the world, but how can I be sure?' Denzel Washington said, 'I'm pretty sure I'm the sexiest man alive but I've never had it confirmed.' Hallie Berry agreed. 'I'm told I'm the most gorgeous of them all, but sometimes I wonder.' They all decided that the best way to find out if their beliefs were true was to ask the famed talking 'mirror, mirror on the wall' to confirm for them whether Shrek was the strongest, Hallie Berry was the most gorgeous and Denzel Washington was the sexiest. They agreed to meet again the next day for lunch to discuss their findings. The next day Shrek walked up with a smile. 'Well, it's true. The mirror told me that I am the strongest man in the world.' Denzel Washington perked up and said: 'And I know for sure that I'm the sexiest man of all' But Hallie Berry lifted her sad, face and said ... Who the heck is Jennifer ? (...didn't see that coming did you? Got this in an email today. Too cute.....)

Plate Glass Doors

It's a jungle out there...what an understatement!



Thank God for the plate glass door.

These are from a guy out at Watonga , Oklahoma . The pictures were taken from his kitchen onto his patio deck. The critter was watching his little kids playing on the kitchen floor!

Watonga is about 25 miles north of I 44 between OK City and Weatherford.

Talk about a wrong time to take out the trash, feed the dog, go for a walk, a smoke, go for anything....

#6: Forgiveness

Forgiveness is a mighty big word. I don't do it easily, but yet, when I need it, I think others should forgive me for oh, whatever. Or, I'll say I forgive someone, only to remind them of it later on down the road, when the time is right. It's hard, that's why we say "I'll forgive, but I'm not forgetting."

It's easy to forgive people we love. My children may do things to hurt or embarrass me, but they're still mine. I'll forgive them, without ever blinking an eye. It's not always that easy for other people to get forgiveness from me, though. I'm a "lock it away" type person, saving the hostility for just the right moment to lower the boom.

The wonderful thing about Christ is that He doesn't lock it away for a later date. It really is forgotten. I am so thankful that He gives me forgiveness that I don't deserve.

The Beating Stage

My oldest son is in the beating stage. You know, the one boys in about the fourth through sixth grade go through. He can use ANYTHING for a drum, and add a beat to it. You would think he has the lead role in Drumline.

Why do boys this age go through BEATING, often and much? All that's needed is a fist and a hard surface and it's on, like a Friday night football game performance.

I don't know how long this lasts. I was trying to remember the other day how long it was when I was a child. (I never done that, cause girls had rather gossip, cat fight, or a little of both.) My guess is one year.

Does anyone else's children (boys) do this? Or is this just one more thing boys in the south do to entertain themselves?

Penny Pinching 101

As many of you reading may know, I'm a tight-wad, a spend thrift, a penny pincher, and many names much worse that I wouldn't care to list. Now that I'm a stay at home mom, the virus has grown worse.

Changing my kids' closet from summer to winter clothes, I celebrate all of the clothes I've saved from last year that still fit. It's like I'm keeping score with this country's budget crisis. Not needin' YOU to bail me out..no sir ree.

We have our hand me downs from a lady at church which GRACIOUSLY gives, knowing of my disease. She gives me kids' clothes that still have the tags on, at times. I average spending $200.00 on winter clothes (per child), which I buy during the summer months. ~Their closets are jam packed~

Another way that I save is talking myself out of things I really don't need. The general rule of thumb for extras that I personally want is: walk out of the store without the item, wait a week, and if I still want it, then it must be something that i really need. I can just about guarantee that a week later, I don't even think about it.

My kids have had to change their way of thinking also. For the past couple of years, every time we went in the store, they always wanted something. (I usually gave in.) Now, I've had to reteach them that: 1. Everyday is not Christmas and 2. Everyday is not your birthday. Growing up, if I only had 1/2 of the things they have, I would have thought everyday was my personal trip to Wonderland... Jennifer in Wonderland.

We have everything we need, most of what we want and a mom with a thrift disease that's spreading like wildfire. Quick, get the Salve!

Thankful #5: Memories

We all have that special memory, tucked deep inside that we get out when we've got the blues, or maybe not. I like to get out different memories from different parts of my life, some special, some that I wish I could remove.

Our memories aren't cut and paste, though. How easy would that be? Nope, I don't like that one, "cut," or yes I love thinking about that moment, "paste," "paste," "paste." Whether good, bad, or in between, memories are a part of who we are.

For some people, that's all they have. For the old lady that lost her husband years ago, that thinks back to that special moment in time, when he won her heart forever. Or, for the grown man that smells cooking, and remembers that special day he and his mama spent making Christmas cookies.

The special thing about memories is that we each have our own, no 2 people's are alike. So, today, I am thankful for my memories...beautiful, beautiful memories of all sorts.

Thankful Post #4....Idiots

I am thankful for idiots because they make the rest of us seem so much smarter.

Idiots Make the World Go Round

Some people are just idiots, point blank. I choose to believe that people in general are good. There are those that have to go and screw it up for the rest of us, though.

I choose to blog, because I like it. I don't really care if you like what I say, because it's my feelings, and you can go lurk around on someone else's page, like a prank caller in the middle of the night, that won't give your name.

For those of you that do not know me personally, I am a sarcastic, humorous, June Cleaver meets Carol Burnett, meets Grandma Clampet, meets Harriet Oleson, you get the idea. I am not afraid to hurt anyone's feelings, after they step on my toes.

I enjoy it when people get on my page. Each story/article I write is "something" that belongs to me. Yes, I write about love, laughter, screw ups, etc. Know what? They're all mine...If you don't like what I say, we can talk discuss it as two people that disagree, both with a name. If you are not going to identify yourself, then how 'bout leave "anonymous" comments on someone else's page. Cause I promise you, with me, you are getting more than you bargain for....country style.

Let's Go....

www.FreakingNews.com

Just Say No...To Timeshare

This time of year, people are getting ready to travel. Now that all my siblings and I are grown, our families have started a ritual of going to the mountains, (i.e. Gatlinburg and Pigeon Forge, TN), during Thanksgiving holidays.

The mountains is a wonderful home away from home, reminding us just how small we are, in this big 'ole world. It's also a wonderful place to spend Thanksgiving as a family.

For the past several years now, something has infested the mountains, like rats in an old barn~TIMESHARE representatives. They are on every corner, set up at gas station doors, Walmart, every attraction, they're all over the place.

What really attracts you to these people is their catch line....something like: "Would you be interested in 4 free tickets to the Comedy Barn?" or "How 'bought a free $100.00 gift certificate to Cracker Barrel? All you have to do is go to a presentation. (By the way, this is a lie.)For travelers like myself (that only set aside a limited amount of money for a trip) this offer is music.Once they have your attention, they go in for the kill...

You go in, watch a presentation, they offer you the best deal to sign on with them for X months.It's so great, you'll be able to go to all different kinds of destinations, WRONG!

I know this will surprise you, but we joined a timeshare~ BIG mistake! They take $100.00 a month for the "trial package, " (18 months which you can use the shares.) What they don't tell you is that if you decide not to continue, you still have to pay the hundred dollars for 26 months. THAT'S $2600.00~Was I out of my sane mind?

We have yet to use our time share. We travel about 5 times a year, some only weekend trips, and one big trip for about a week. This is not beneficial for travelers like us. We could get one heck of a motel/hotel/condo for $2600.00. Lesson learned, at an expensive rate!

BEWARE: Timeshares initial offers of Free Tickets, Gift Certificates, whatever are not free.

Run from these people like the PLAGUE!

Thankful #3...Kids

My kids several years ago in Gatlinburg, TN.

From an old Oak Ridge Boys song:

If it weren't for kids have you ever thought
There wouldn't be no Santa Claus
Or look what the stork just brought
Thank God for kids.

And we'd all live in a quiet house
With-out Big Bird or Mickey Mouse
And Kool Aid on the couch
Thank God for kids.

Thank God for kids, there's magic for a while
A special kind of sunshine in a smile
Do you ever stop to think or wonder why
The nearest thing to heaven is a child.

Daddy, how does this thing fly?
And a hundred other where's and why's
You really don't know but you try
Thank God for kids.

When you look down in those trusting eyes
That look to you, you realize
There's a love that you can't buy
Thank God for kids...

Thank God for kids, there's magic for a while
A special kind of sunshine in a smile
Do you ever stop to think or wonder why
The nearest thing to heaven is a child.

When you get down on your knees tonight
To thank the Lord for His guiding light
And pray they turn out right
Thank God for kids.

I'm thankful for my kids and how much they teach me (daily) just how much I really don't know about life. I'm also thankful for the kids that have came into my life, for their innocence and comedy. (Kids are funny creatures at times.)

Kids Really DO say the darnedest things.

Taylor Hicks~ "Idol" or Idle?

I am one of the biggest American Idol fans in the world. It's very entertaining to watch a 300lb. lady in a "Big Bird" dress try and make American Idol, while saving face. Gosh! Do some of these people think they can really sing? Cause they're not hearing the same thing I am!

When Taylor Hicks swept the nation on Idol, I may as well been Sargent for "Soul Patrol." We don't hear much about him anymore, not even in his own home state.

After losing his record deal, and deciding to go on his own, he's singing to really loyal fans at concerts. If he comes this way, don't guess we'd have to worry about the concert being sold out. Soul Patrol doesn't even work the day shift, anymore.

This was not one of Simon's better judgments. Chalk him up with Ruben and my guess is, you won't have to worry about another American Idol Master from Alabama for quite some time.

HG TV Houses

The husband is in off the boat (he works on one as a tanker) and gone for a day of golf, so I had the house to myself this morning. Turned the television on to HG TV. Don't you just love those "redo" shows, where they take a perfectly good house and make it into an even better one?

I'm not jealous, because I'm very content in my old country home, filled with yard sale findings, homemade stuff, and lots of love. That doesn't change the fact that homes on these shows amaze me. The designers take a perfectly good home and "modernize" it. Heaven's Sakes!

If the producers seen my house, they'd head for the hills, crying "help me." I don't live in a shack, nonetheless, but it's a far cry from some of the houses that START OUT in the "before picture."

We are remodeling our home, NOT modernizing it, just "updating" it, I like to call it. Since we are paying for it outright and doing some of the work ourselves, it's going to be a long journey~several years long. I'm SURE it won't look like the finished product on HG TV, but I'd take it as my "after picture" any old day.

Thankful #2...Men

This is my "Thankful" post #2. I don't usually get too personal, but I have to tell you about my husband. No, he's no regular hubby at all. (Is there a regular one?...sorry, guys)

After a bitter divorce and the assurance of no more children, I prayed (several, several years later) for a man that had no children. I knew I would be one witch of a step mom so I just refused step children...(my personal choice.)

I dated my husband for several years and we were best friends. (The second go around is much different than the first in that you look for different things the 2nd time...It's a more mature love.)

I will grow old with this man. He has made me the person I am today, took my children in without skipping a beat (none of his own blood), and has been a wonderful provider and leader every since.

I'm thankful for all the men in the world that CHOOSE to be father's and family leaders, (whether natural or not)... Especially the one I have!

The Election According to God

I'm tired of hearing about Barak Obama and John McCain, alike. Like a bad divorce, I'm just ready for it all to end. Do these people ever get tired of talking about their plans for our country, because I'm tired of hearing them?

I heard a preacher step on toes today. He was preaching on the election, according to God. (If you are not a Christian, then this post won't mean anything to you.)

We should ALL vote not a woman for a woman, a white for a white, a black because he's black, a democrat because maw-maw was, a republican cause paw-paw was, but we should vote the way God wants us to vote. We are a Christian before anything else.

The Bible verse the preacher used was:"Ye are the salt of the earth: but if the salt have lost his savour, wherewith shall it be salted? It is thenceforth good for nothing, but to be cast out, and to be trodden under foot of men. ~Matthew 5:13

If we don't add the flavor of Jesus to this election, then we deserve to be trodden upon by men, and that's exactly what will happen.

~God Bless America, My Home, Sweet Home~

The Sassiest Two Year Old In The Whole World

~My niece as Dorthy~ YEAH! She's not a Halloween Unknown!

My niece at the County Fair - 2nd place!

Am I Thankful?

Sitting around the house, I realized that today was November 1. This month, Thanksgiving, complete with all the trimmings. Another Thanksgiving, another year almost over.

The Pilgrims, the Indians...blah,blah,blah... They come quicker and quicker, now. So, what do I have to be thankful for anyway? I think I, just like everybody else, take things, circumstances and people for granted. I KNOW there are a lot of people with worse circumstances, less things, and less love in their lives than I have.

No, I'm not a millionaire and yes my circumstances aren't always what I want them to be. So what? Nobodies is. Everyone has something in or about their lives they want to change. "Keeping up with the Joneses," they call it.

Starting today, I am going to remind myself and others what I am thankful for. Everyday, I will be thankful for something different, until Thanksgiving.

Today, I'll start with:

Thankful For Fall

Fall Decor, Hayrides, the County Fair,
Pumpkin Patches, Fallen Leaves and
First Falls ....Thank You God for Fall...
(You knew I would love it!)