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When you have two state schools in the same conference, you are going to have a ready-made rivalry. In Oklahoma, we call it BEDLAM. Oklahoma University is the home of the Sooners and Oklahoma State University, the home of the Cowboys.

This will be the 103rd meeting of the schools in football. While we also play against each other in basketball, wrestling, softball, baseball, golf and any other sports both schools play, football is king and brings out the beast in nearly every Okie whether they are particular sports fans or not.

This year OSU is hosting OU at Stillwater. Each year they swap hosting duties. You can never be definitely sure who is going to come out on top because every player and every coach is focused on this game. Unexpected things can, and often do, happen. This year will be no different.


As a fan, what is difficult for me is being pulled in both directions. My oldest brother and my youngest brother both went to school at OU for their pre-med. My sister got her RN degree from OU School of Nursing. My middle brother, Bro, went to OSU, and our youngest brother went to OSU's Osteopathic School of Medicine after his pre-med at OU. And for the big kicker, Mike Gundy, who is head coach at OSU, and his brother Cale, the running backs coach at OU, are our second cousins.

Whew... that was a mouthful. So what I hope for is a hard fought game, no injuries, no lousy calls and may the best team prevail. I will be hollering for, or at, both of them.

And I'll never tell who I'm really hoping to win in my heart.

Puppy Update...

After we stuffed our faces with a wonderful Thanks-giving lunch, my Bro and I pried ourselves off the couch and drove to Bethany for a visit and a puppy fix.

I caught this shot of mom looking up like "are we done yet?" with a bit of the bloodshot eyes like all new moms, 2 legged or 4 legged seem to have with 19 day old spawn.

Madeline is being a very good mom. If people are around and petting on her or the babies, she is always counting them, making sure that they are all at her side.

This is a lousy photo but I decided to put it in for a size reference. If you look back at the newborn post, you would see that, at birth, the babies were a bit longer than my hand from the tips of my fingers to just about my wrist. Now they are almost from the tips of my fingers to my elbow.

Please ignore the wrap.I had a blood vein burst yesterday and I had to wrap it and ice it, but that is another story. This is all about puppies today.

Steve and Nancy Lu, my niece and her hubs, have moved Madeline and the puppies out of the den. The pups were already getting out of the baby pool, so Steve cleared out an area in the garage and they are living out there now.

They have a heater to keep the room warm and if they get out of the pool the concrete floor can be hosed down.



I had to put this shot in because of that little pink tongue. It was just precious and since this is my blog I can put in what I choose. That little pink tongue belongs to one of the two girls. The other three puppies in this photo are boys.

They lost one more puppy last Sunday. A little girl. She had to have something wrong inside because, while all the other pups were growing, she was not. They even tried bottle feeding her but she continued to lose ground.

So the final tally is 4 boys and 2 girls.

This is another photo to show the growth of the puppies. If you look back at the first post, I had another pic of a baby laying on mom's neck. This is the other little girl. She is going to be a dark brindle. Two of her brothers are brindle, but they are lighter like mom.

The babies are starting to exhibit more of the great Dane looks now. Their little ears aren't plastered to their head anymore, as you can see.

It is so fun to watch them grow.


This is Max.... big daddy. Max is an old man. He just turned seven this month. I thought you ought to meet him, too.

Max is a big lump of love. He gets so excited when they come out to feed or let him out to run in the big yard. They are not letting him out when Maddie is out taking care of business.

While they get along great and love to play, because of their rambunctious play Nancy is being cautious with Maddie until the pups are weaned. He misses her sooo much and will be glad to have her back with him.

Now... for the Melissa update. If you remember, Melissa is the 20 month old child Steve and Nancy Lu are adopting. She was so afraid of the big dogs that she would start hollering, even if she was being held, when the gentle giants were out in yard or when Madeline came into the house.

Now she wants to lay against Maddie. She often will suck her thumb and rub on Maddie's ear. Nancy said that last week they let Maddie in and Melissa walked all over with Maddie, always with her hand on her.

Yesterday, while I was there, Maddie came into the house and was standing next to different ones getting petted and several times I noticed Melissa would be leaning on her, touching her or laying her arm on her.

They have become companions. It is such a huge step from where that child was when they first got her. Here, in this shot, she is laying on Maddie and her head touching one of the pups.

Well, I have been a wordy girl today. I'll shut up for a while and give your eyes a rest in just a moment.

This is my niece, Nancy Lu. I just want you to see Maddie's mom, my sweet niece. They have such a wonderful connection, but Nance is so good with dogs, as well as children.

She and Steve both are so gentle and loving, but also firm with Melissa and I give them all the praise for the changes I see in Melissa.

She is becoming so much more confident and secure. It is a joy to watch the changes, but that, again, is another post.

One more picture of a pile of puppies... I'm going back to bed for a nap. You all have a great day and thanks for putting up with this 'novella'.


A Pile Of Puppies!!!


The End (for now)

(If you want to see any of the photos better, click on them... they'll get bigger.)

It's All About The Bird Today

What better day to talk turkey than today. No fowl is more famous than the turkey. They are known for their big breasts and their stupidity despite the fact that they are not blonde. They, if raised properly, can also be very sweet.

Henny Penny is such a bird. She lives in a turkey pen at my niece's place with 15 0r 18 other turkeys. When I did my baby-sitting job, or rather chicken and turkey sitting stint, for my niece and her hubs last March is when I became acquainted with Henny Penny

When I was doing the walk-through with Laura about who to feed what and how and where to clean and fill the water containers for the chickens and the turkeys, Laura told me about Henny. A lot of times when you go into the turkey enclosure, Henny will decide that it's time for some loving and will fly up on your shoulder. If you aren't aware of this possibility, it can be disconcerting when a 20 pound turkey is coming at you.


As if on cue, not a minute after we entered the pen, here came H.P. She will sit on your shoulder and likes for you to stroke her breast feathers and she will go to sleep, cuddled up to your cheek.

Another thing you will want to know if you ever go in a turkey pen is they like gold shiny things... did I mention blonde earlier? The reason I'm holding onto my head is another turkey was on the roosting bar behind me that had pecked out my earring (thankfully she dropped it and I was able to recover it) and was pecking at the gold adjustment buckle on the back of my hat. And they can deliver a thump like a second grade teacher used to be able to deliver, back in the olden days before child abuse suits.

The other thing about H.P. ... if she's not had enough lovin' by the time you off-load her onto the roosting bar, she will come back for more. I just managed to catch this shot on the fly (as it were) and I knew I was in for another round of a 20 pound bird landing on my shoulder. (Better than 20 lbs. of turkey poop landing on my shoulder.)

Needless to say, Henny Penny is nobody's dinner today. My niece and I both love her and she's a good layer and cuddler. What more could you ask for out of a turkey. A "blonde" turkey at that.

I hope all of you out here in our blog-sphere have a wonderful and thankful day today. Thanksgiving is all about doing just that, giving thanks for our blessings, no matter how small, and one of the many things I'm thankful for is my experience with Henny Penny. Another blessing is being able to share it with all of you.

So all you good cooks out there, go ahead... Strutt your stuffing. Those of us who love good cooks will count our blessings and, hopefully, remember to thank those good cooks.

Happy Thanksgiving to all and to all a good morning.

You, Too, Can Learn To Dance...

Last spring I house sat for one of my nieces and her hubs when they went to Germany on a business/pleasure trip for a week.

When you have chickens and turkeys you don't get to leave home for more than a day unless you have some one you can call to come tend them and Laura knew just who to call.

Naturally, I said "You bet!" I went over a couple of times and went through the feeding and watering with her and then came the big day. I took them to the airport, went back home, picked up my girls and we went house-sitting and bird watching.


One of the best parts of the day was in the morning when we, me and the schnauzers, would go open the chicken house and let them out for the day.

I checked the feed and water, filled what was needing filling and then go get a bucket of scratch and throw it out for the chickens all around the yard. They loved seeing me and that bucket.

They weren't so crazy about the schnauzers, but they put up with them just so they could get the scratch. Chloe and SueSue tried real hard to check out the chickens, but the chickens and roosters were having no inclination to make friends, at least not with the dogs.

And the truth be told, Chloe was wanting her some chicken on the hoof. Suess didn't care so much about catching them, she wanted to play chase, but my little old lady wanted to kill them.

I have no idea where she got that. She has always minded me. I mean, I've called her off a squirrel before, but when I first found out about her chicken and duck chasing propensity was three years ago when we were visiting another niece.

Launa and I were walking around checking out her chickens and a pet goose and I am here to tell you my Chloe was off and running close to the ground after that goose. SueSue said, "Oh, that looks like fun, let's play chase!!" I was able to get Suess's attention, but Chloe was focused on G.O.O.S.E. I did manage to keep goose murder from happening, but feathers were flying.

But I digress...

After the goose experience, I had to help my sweet Chloe to understand that when mom says no, mom means NO, and we, the dogs and me, could go out around the chickens and roosters and I could take some photos and tend to my chores without worrying about chicken murders.

And although I was unable to teach the girls to herd the chickens back to the coop at night, we got through the week, we all had a lot of fun and spent quality time wandering all over outdoors, taking photos and caring for the chickens and the turkeys.


And what, you might ask, does this post have to do with dancing?

If you've never been in a chicken yard, throw a bunch of marbles or little rocks in a confined area, take off your shoes and try to tippy-toe through all of them without stepping on any of them.

Maybe then you'll get the drift of what I'm talking about, especially if you relate the marbles or rocks to chicken or turkey shit. You'll find you can dance just trying to keep your balance without steppin' in it and getting it all over your shoes.

I like to call it "The Poo-Poo Dance."

Turkeys will be featured next week, as is appropriate for Thanksgiving week.

Thank you and good night.

It Was Supposed To Storm...

About a week ago, when I was having on of my 'lousy' days...

I heard thunder.

"Dang!", I told myself "you've got to get up on the roof and fix that hole that you saw when you were taking the tin off the roof of the back deck."

So I pried myself off the couch, got the repair stuff I'd gotten the day before and got my brother to help me get the ladder up so's I could get on the roof.

I went up, walked over to the place that looked like it was torn up and it was a second vent pipe. As I stood there looking at it thinking "you dummy"... there was a crack of lightning and a roll of thunder. God said "Hi, you dummy. Now get off this roof."

The first photo is what I saw when I looked up (and, yes, I do take a camera with me sometimes on the roof) above and to the northwest. You know, I decided that that would be a pretty good idea to take that advice and get off the roof.


This second photo was looking to the north of our place. Kinda had the look and feel of a bit of a wall cloud rolling to the east. While it is uncommon to have tornadoes in November, it is not unheard of by any stretch of the imagination.

They had talked about that possibility the night before on the weather and I had just kind of ignored it. After all, I was born and raised in Oklahoma and it's something you try to be aware of, but you don't really plan on.

So I'm thinking, as I'm getting down... I might ought to check the weather channel.

I decided to look to the east just to see what was happening out that way, and when I did I was so glad I had my camera. One of the more beautiful sky shots I've seen in a while. This is straight out of the camera.


It is so good to be alive and to get to see beauty like this.


Life is good.




Even on a not so good day.

You Might Want To Print This Out...

Since the holiday season is upon us and a lot of us will be doing some traveling I thought I'd share something with you all.

I originally received the following in an e-mail. There was no indication of who originally penned this, but I was so taken by the appropriateness of the wording in today's computerized world that I printed it out and have carried it with me in my travel bag ever since I received it.

So without further ado.. here it is:

A High-Tech Psalm

The Lord is my programmer. I shall not crash.

He installed His software on the hard disk of my heart;

All of His commands are user-friendly;

His director guides me to the right choices for His Name's sake.

Even though I scroll through the problems of life,

I will fear no bugs for He is my backup;

His password protects me;

He prepares a menu before me in the presence of my enemies;

His help is only a stroke away.

Surely goodness and mercy will follow me all the days of my life,

And my file will be merged with His and saved forever.

I wish for all of us who will be traveling during this time safe and protected travel.

Helen

Melissa And The Puppies...

Okay for all of you that have said "what about the puppies?" here are some new photos.

My original plan was to go in on Sunday afternoons after church to take photos and visit with my niece and her sweet hubs.

My reasoning is, since it's about a 45-50 minute drive to their home and Sundays are when her kids, my great nieces and nephews, usually come over to visit and bring their kids, my great-great nieces and nephews, that's when I get to visit with all of them also, more bang for the buck as it were...

Whew... That almost wears me out just typing all that out. Anyway, I was feeling really crappy this Sunday, so I didn't drive in to Bethany, a suburb of Okla. City, and didn't get any new photos. When I got fussed at, I called my sweet and wonderful niece and she sent me the photos I'm posting today.

The baby in the photos is Melissa. Nancy and Steve are adopting her. She is their niece, but due to some familial problems, they are in the process of adopting her.

She has been afraid of the dogs, I'm sure because they are so big and she wasn't raised around them. When Nance lets Maddie, the pups mom, out to go to the bathroom so she can change the bedding in their bed, they started showing Melissa about the puppies and letting her pet them.

The next thing, the baby wanted to be in with the puppies, so they let her get in their bed with them and showed her about being easy with them.

Obviously, she is having a great time. One of the puppies is wiggling around her head and neck, probably hunting ninny, but it is tickling her and she is laughing.

This is a great, huge, step for the baby girl, and we are all hoping that this will help towards calming her fears about the big dogs.

They are such gentle dogs, especially Maddie, and they would never hurt her, except maybe by accidentally bumping her or wagging their tail or such, but maybe watching the babies grow it will help her over her fears.

So here is your puppy fix for the week. By next Sunday they should be opening their eyes and, hopefully, I will feel like making the trip to town and getting "as they grow" photos.

Here's mom, back in with the babies.














And, finally, nap time.


Y'all come back and see us again, ya hear?!


(And if anyone can tell me how to get the underline off whenever it pops up like it did in this post, I'd sure appreciate it. I don't know what caused it to start and I don't know what caused it to stop, but it happen once before and I posted it just like I'm posting this one...)

A Snippet Question...

At what age, or what point in time, do beauty marks become skin tags? Just wondering if anyone could give me an answer to that question.... It seems I've got skin tags popping out all over. Is the body heat from hot flashes causative? Are there little flaws in your skin that are weaker and just decide to pop up and say "Hi"?

This questionable snippet was brought to you by the new queen of skin tags...

Any help on answering this snippet question would be appreciated.

Mammeries Are Made Of This....

One of the more wonderful things (not) about being a female person of the human race is the mammogram. I'm not as vigilant about getting my mams slammed as I should be because it just flat is painful. I know it had to be a man that had it in for women that designed this machine of pain and wonder. Pain for the obvious reason and wonder because of it's ability to spot possible breast cancer. I know that it has saved many, many women, but it still hurts...

I mean, you're talking about someone who was sooooo flat-chested when I was younger that my Bro gave me, for Christmas, a t-shirt with fried eggs silk-screened on it. And that was only because he couldn't find t-shirt with mosquito bites on it. I was so flat-chested that my little momma, who rarely teased about anything that might hurt someone's feelings, said she was going to take me and get "FRONT" tattooed on my chest so if I was ever in an accident the E.R. folks would know which side was up. Mom loved Andy Griffith and had heard his motorcycle wreck (and at that time I rode one) routine, so I'm sure that's where she got that idea.

As I've gotten older and everything is settling and a few more pounds were put on I can actually buy a bra that mostly fits... in the smaller sizes, but it is dang hard to get used to wearing one after sixty years of tank tops under your t-shirts. Anyway, my doctor insisted, so I went in day before yesterday.

You know the drill. They take you in and tell you to change into this little cape like drape and to join them in their torture chamber. They have you step up against the bottom shelf, then they grab whatever there is to grab and pull (pull in my case 'cause there isn't enough to push around) until they get it like they want it and then they step on that foot feed for the top to come and smash down on my poor little booblet.

About the time, and I never have figured out quite how the tech's senses it, you think you are going to (a). scream; (b). faint; or (c) punch them out, they take their foot off the pedal and it stops. Now you are pinned in by your flattened part and any movement on my part will cause more pain.

. They have stepped out of reach and you can't smack 'em. The tech steps behind their protective barrier and snaps a picture of your poor slammed gland. Then they come out, release you and do it all over again with the other booblet that has, in the meantime, taken a clue from the first one and tried to crawl back into my rib cage and hide, alas, to no avail.

So we get the horizontal shots taken and then we get to the obliques that pretty much feel like they are leaving your little munchkins looking like this: \ \ . The tech got the left one in all cattie-wompus, slams it and takes the photo. Now I'm yakking with her all along and she is staying behind her barrier and looking at her computer with a puzzled look on her face, poking on different keys and says... something is wrong.... with my computer.

Whew, I hate long pauses in a situation like that. She gets on the phone and calls and talks to another tech who comes over and presses computer keys and still can't get the damn thing working. My tech told me she was going to another room and see if she could pull up the horizontal shots on another computer because she didn't want to have to shoot them over again if she didn't have to... thank you very much, I'm thinking.

She was able to get the first two on the other computer and only had to redo the first oblique so that saved a squash or two, and she got the second oblique without another problem. She let me go and I was dressed and outta there as quick as I could go.

They were working on the first machine as I walked by the first room I was in, trying to figure out what had happened to it. I decided against stopping in and telling them that it was probably caused by....
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wait for it....
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my MAGNETIC PERSONALITY !!!

Thank you very much!!!

Oh, yes, I must add that I have been told by women with bodacious ta-tas that I'm lucky. If you have mongo mams they have to squash 'em harder than mine because of the density of their breasts. You have my deepest sympathies.

A Post To Ponder...

Yesterday I went into town to the hospital's Breast Center to get my mammies slammed. Always a fun trip for any of us, but that's not what this post is about. While waiting for my turn on the mashing machine I picked up a magazine that I hadn't read (the one with a picture of Palin with a gun slung over her shoulder on the cover) and was flipping through, scanning the articles.

Then one caught my eye, so much so that I read it over again. The author, a woman, was writing about being a member of a grudge holding family. So much so that after a particularly bad argument with her mother over the phone, she and her parents did not speak for 12 years. 12 YEARS!

She would receive a Christmas card, signed with their last names every Christmas, but other than that, no communication. One day she received a note from her father with, as she called it, three magic words... "I'm so sorry."

She said they began to write letters back and forth in which she found out from her father that her mother had been diagnosed with Alzheimer's. Soon she and her husband drove six hours to visit her parents and she asked her husband what she could say after a 12 year separation. He said "How about hello? Ask them what they've been doing."

Her father set a turkey loaf on the table and they sat together for a meal, the first in 12 years, and it was the first to come for several years before her mom died. She had a chance that first year to take walks with her mother and talk about old times before the Alzheimer's took first her mother's mind, then her life.

That is what this post is about... lost time due to holding grudges. While she was fortunate enough to reconnect with her mother and her father, how awful it would have been if her father had not written those three 'magic' words and her mother had died with the grudge still being held. I have sibs that hold grudges, not to the point of not talking if we are at a family get-together, but it makes me sad that they cannot just let go and let it be.

And since I'm into keeping it real, I held a grudge against my sister for years and did not go out of my way to talk with her or to just drive out to see her when we were younger. When our mom became senile and didn't know us kids, I started thinking how much it hurt not to be able to communicate with her or anyone I loved and I decided during that time it took too much from me, physically and emotionally to carry a grudge. It just got to heavy to bear.

Since then, I've made the trip to see my sister, I've called her and we visit and talk about all the times we missed due to my stubbornness (my words, not hers) and my anger (again, my words). I feel better and lighter around her now. We can laugh and we can cry together. We can be sisters as sisters should be, relaxed and at ease with each other.

So if you have the "grudge family history" think about it. Is it worth the weight of carrying it around? Is it, like mine was, a defense mechanism to keep from being hurt by words or actions of someone else? And do you want it to be an example to your kids as how to act towards problems with other people, to carry that anger and pain around?

Just think about it. Her words sure struck me and I don't like the years that I lost, but I felt I needed to share my story with you. If this touches a nerve in you, you might want to just say, "Enough.". I'll get off my soap box. Getting my poor little mosquito bites slammed just made me pensive, I guess.

Next post I'll be all sweetness and light, maybe even funny.

I promise.

Gotta Love Life In The Country...

My Bro and I were headed into town to go to the grocery. As we often do, when he is driving, we took a different road to town just to see what was around us...

We saw this sign, about 4 miles from where we live. He and I both fell out laughing. Since I didn't have the camera with me, we had to go back that way the next time so I could get this photo to share with you.

I think that when I win the lottery I'm gonna move here. It's closer to town and you can get cable service.

More Puppies...

When you breed a large dog like Great Danes you usually get a large litter. Even on the first time around. There were three puppies that were lost.

Maddy had them okay and cleaned them up, but in trying to keep them warm and not having experience, she laid on them and squashed them.

After they got her inside into her wading pool she had 7 more pups, so her first litter was 10 in all. Here are the magnificent seven... There are 4 boys and 3 girls and I want them all.

During the time I was there I was answering questions and explaining what I was doing or what was going on with Maddy to a 7 year old, an almost 9 year old and adults from the early 20's to a 50 year old.

I only had to help with one pup, the last one, a little boy. His sac was broken and I realized it when I saw his little face. He was blowing bubbles out of his little nose and already trying to find something to nurse.

I swiped his little face and mouth to make sure he could breathe and keep him from going back in when the contraction stopped.

Another couple of contractions and I had most of him in a towel and then on the third, here he was and mom was ready to meet him.

I laid him down by her leg and it was bath time and he wriggled and fussed until she was done with his bath and he managed, finally, to find dinner.

He looks to me it his photo like he's saying, "Awww, MOM..."















Here's mom getting to know a few of her babies and taking a well deserved, albeit short, siesta.















This little one crawled up between her front legs and just went to sleep.
It was so much fun.















Madeline says are we done yet? And maybe you do, too, but I'm not quite there.

There is one more I want you to meet... This little guy in his wriggling around got turned over on his back, but the little bugger never let go of his teat. He was latched on big time and wasn't about to let go, upside down or not.

His little pink padded paws were kneading air pushing to get more milk. He was just so cute I had to introduce him to you.




Now I'm done.


Thanks for letting me brag about this experience.


And to Nancy and Steve, thanks for having faith in your old Aunt Helen. It made me feel useful and I love you all.

I think I'll play along...

Seems like there have been several blogs that I've read this week that were a little of this and a little of that and my week has been a little bit of this and a little bit of that, so that is what you are going to get in this post.

This first little bit is what took up most of my day today. My niece called me from Dallas at 7 A. frickken M. Her Great Dane, Madeline, had started birthin' babies and her husband was freaking.

He had never helped birth babies, Nancy Lu was at a seminar and while she got back in 4 1/2 hours, she hadn't ever helped birth babies. So the frantic call went out for some mutt mid-wifery... i.e. AUNT HELEN----HELP...

So I thru on some clothes, grabbed my meds and cookies to help get 'em down with the assistance of Diet Pepsi and took off for OKC. 40 minutes later I bail out of the car and run into the house and Steve (Nance's hubs) said, "I am so glad you are here. I went out to feed Maddy (the mom) and Max (the dad) and noticed that neither one had eaten and upon investigation, while checking out Maddy's fat belly, it was alive.

It looked like those babies were rolling around in there and it freaked me out. Then I discovered that she had 3 and had laid on them to keep 'em warm and squashed them.'' (1st time mother).


By the time I got to the house, two of the kids and their significant others and their kids had gotten there and they had gotten Maddy in the house into her wading pool birthin' bed and Steven had settled down. I got in the swimmin' pool (kiddie sized) and started checking out mom.

She had 4 living pups by the time I got there and it was soon apparent another was on the way. They let my great neice Chloe (who will be 9 on Monday) watch since I was there and she got to see the next pup come out in it's bubble and was just awed how Maddy tore the sac and chewed the cord and cleaned the baby. She had a lot of questions and I was able to answer all but one... can a momma dog have twins? meaning two babies in one bubble. I told her I hadn't heard of it but I would find out.


Maddy had 7 living pups and only needed help with the last one. His sac had busted and I had to make sure when the contraction stopped that he didn't get sucked back in where he couldn't breathe. Steve and the rest of them decided that they would have freaked out and probably not been able to save the little guy. One of my nieces videod that birth and that was good because next time they birth babies they will all know what to do.

I'm officially whooopppped out.

Thurs. night Bro and I drove to Ft. Worth, got up Friday morning and got my nephew's trailer and loaded as much stuff as we could in my pick up and in the 6' X12' lawn equipment trailer and drove back home. Didn't get home until about 8:30 that night and was exhausted, so when the call came at God-thirty this morning to go help birth puppies...... GROAN. But I couldn't not go and let my kids worry.

I'm so tired I'm going about this backward. I'll post some more puppy pics tomorrow, and a couple of sky shots that I took earlier in the week, too.

Good night... and oh, yeah... OU whooped Texas A&M!!

Did You Vote Today?

I got out and voted today. Our polling place is at the Baptist church that had the Holy Ghost Wiener Roast. Seriously. The sign was still up. Right after we, my brother and I, voted, we went across the street to J & J's Cafe and had lunch and contemplated the whole situation. The daily special, for me, beef tips and noodles and for Bro, a burger.

The bad thing about lunch is there wasn't a dadgum piece of pie left by lunch time. The gal that has this little cafe out here in the boonies makes the best pies. All home made... coconut creme pie, pecan pie, lemon meringue, banana, chocolate... I could go on but I might cry because there was none, NONE, left.

We decided that all the folks that voted early stepped out of the voting booth and went across the street and had them some pie and coffee. No other explanation for it. When I put my ballot in the box I noted that I was one of 5300 plus voters that had stuffed, er um, placed their ballot in the box, but I never conciously transferred that amount of people that might have helped wipe out the P.I.E.

I weep...

I'm There, Maxine...

I don't know about any of the rest of you, but I am so ready to get this election d.o.n.e. It seems like the campaigning has been going on since Jesus was a boy.

Am I the only living person who remembers when campaigns were much, much shorter in duration? By the time this election is in the books, I won't even want to see the face of whichever one wins.

And it's not just the presidential elections, the local and state ones are driving me just as nuts. I get so tired of our politicians and their rivals talking about what crooks the others are and who got pay-offs from whom.

I think about 97% of them ought to be put in jail, just for general principles. Everyone of them seems to deserve some jail time according to the others, so put them all in together for a "time out" and let them think on their many sins. I don't know that it would help, but I'm just saying...

So when I saw got this Maxine opinion in an e-mail, I knew I had to share it with everyone, and this is the easiest way I know to do that. I have really enjoyed Maxine since she came into existence and we share the same ideas.

Maybe it's the old, crochety, bitchy broad in her...

Birds of a feather, you know.