Still Kickin' - Two

I could continue to relate all the symptomology but it would be repeating basically what I've told you.  I sort of learned through all this that if I removed myself from me and looked at what was going on in different parts of my body that it helped keep the pain controlled longer and I could be up more... not particularly helpful around the house but I could do my own laundry and do the dishes some evenings.  Bless Carol for being sooo very patient through all this.  She just continued doing around the house and in the yard and if I was up she would talk about what was going on with me and check to see how I was feeling and didn't push me about not being up or sleeping too much.  I had talked with her about not wanting to add any more medications to my body until the liver doctor got back all those results from the blood tests so that he would have as clean a slate as possible for me when he decided what my treatment would be so that if there were side effects with any of the meds he would be able to make whatever necessary changes without the waters being too muddied, as it were, and she understood where I was coming from about not pressing for more pain meds or trying to rush the doctor about getting to see me.  Believe me, when you are waiting to make an appointment with a liver specialist for the first time and you get a phone call and the voice says, "This is the Liver Transplant Center calling for Helen Gardner" it tends to get your attention and I wanted to fully cooperate with the doctor to avoid the possibility of a transplant.

So time passed and I fogged in and out of the pain and time came for my appointment to find out what all the blood work indicated was going on in my body.  A dear friend drove me to Oklahoma City to the Transplant Center, seriously that is the name of the clinic.  I didn't trust myself to drive because of the pain and the drugs I had been taking. I told the doctor that it felt like my body was trying to rip itself to shreds.  I had a war going on inside and he agreed that my good guys were attacking what they perceived as my bad guys in my body and trying to eat them and destroy the invaders.  What it basically all boils down to is my autoimmune system is AWOL.  Every test it seems that is checking autoimmune markers is out of range.  The doctor said that he really wasn't in the mood to transplant me so how about if we try to get you back to some semblence of a normal life by the use of medications.  He also told me that if I hadn't been so pig-headed about getting off the steroids I wouldn't have had to go through all I'd been going through for the last month or two, something that I'd already figured out for my own stubborn self. I told him that he was right, that I had been so frustrated with nothing seeming to improve that I was just fed up with all of it. The doctor said his goal is to get the liver enzymes back in a somewhat normal range and controlled for three years. After three years my antibodies might forget about the ones they thought were bad and he could then try getting me off all medications. Sounds good to me... I'll only be 70 and I'll be ready to go dancing!

He started me again on the prednisone and I'll be on it until I see him in January. Within two days the pain was nowhere even remotely near what I had been dealing with for almost two months. I still have had to take pain pills occasionally but not 4 - 6 times a day. I'll have to get blood drawn in another week, but will not have to go back to the lab during the holidays.  That sound like a great Christmas present to me.  I walked the dogs for the first time in over two months and they were happy babies to go poop somewhere other than their own little yard.  Carol and her sister went to Habit For Humanity and found carpet squares and I actually was able to help lay down new carpet in the living room, hall and front bedroom.  Nancy, Carol's sister, took up the old carpet and padding and we decided that when the mobile home was built they must've paid the workers by the staple because there was a butt-load of staples used to put the padding down. My brother had given me a multi-use tool on one of my trips to Ft. Worth and I figured out that one of the attachments would cut the staples off even with the floor and Carol's eyes lit up and she became a staple and old nail cutting mother!  She is in a wheelchair most of the time now but she could bend where she could make the tool flat to the floor and cut those nasty staples off.  She got after it, which is good because I still wasn't up to being able to help much but when all the cutting, cleaning and prep was done and the glue was rolled on the floor I was able to help lay the squares down.  I was so excited to be able to help do SOMETHING around the house that I was almost in tears.  The best part about it was I was able to do something to help two days in a row.  Not like I used to be able to do but able to help and do some of the repair/fixit around the house stuff that I so have enjoyed doing over the years.  I'll have a good day or two in a row then I will still have a fall out and sleep a good portion of the day spell. I really feel like maybe, just maybe I am on the road to being able to do around the house and next spring maybe I can get back out into the garden.

What it all boils down to is I have missed visiting you all and wanted to let you know that I may be back on the road to getting back to my ornery self. Or at least 2/3rds of my ornery self.  Thank you all for caring what's going on with me and checking up on me.  My doctor said that I'm not done with things in my life and he wants to get me back to taking care of business.  I totally agree with him...

I'm not done yet!

Still Kickin'

I knew it had been a while since I've posted on my blog and when I looked I was embarrassed to see how long it had been...  A lot has happened since my last post and nothing really has happened since my last post.     Let me explain that statement.

In August I was pretty much tired of feeling like the hamster in the wheel, running and running to nowhere on the medical side of my life after getting my blood drawn every month and going to the G.I. and having virtually the same conversation about getting the liver function down to somewhere near normal.  I was having some side effects that I attributed to the Imuran, the liver medicine that I had been taking, along with prednisone (steroids) for months.  My doctor was getting frustrated, also I think, because my liver readings were not getting down to where he thought they should be and I was thinking if the dang liver med hadn't kicked in to deal with the problem and get me off the steroids then why am I taking it?  We talked and I told him that I felt some of the problems that were putting me in the dirt were side effects of the Imuran and I wanted to know if there were other options.  He was honest with my that he really didn't know as it was pretty much all he knew to do and he would prefer that I go to a liver specialist that would be more knowledgeable about it all.  Fine with me but I'm getting off the Imuran and he said that was fine but would you not go off the prednisone.  Well, I thought what is 7.5 mg every other day going to do for me but for now I stayed on it.

I went to Ft. Worth for the weekend of August 24th.  My sister-in-law was going to sing for her first time with a gospel group and 6 or 8 songs solo in the program.  The concert program was at a large church in Benbrook, a bedroom community in the south part of Ft. Worth.  My sister that lives in Weatherford, TX, west of Ft. Worth drove in and we got to visit and sit together during the concert and that was fun to get to catch up with her.  It seems we don't get to do that often enough.

This was the flyer for Diane's first professional appearance.  Gloria Diane Gardner or as we call her GG or Diane. She also went with Praise, Inc. to Vermont for 4 days of concerts.  My baby brother went with her and Praise, Inc. on their Vermont trip and they got to visit with my cousin and her husband that live close to where the concerts were being held.  I was jealous that they got to visit my cousin as it has probably been 15 or 20 years since I've gotten to see my cousin... but I wasn't cognizant enough to fuss too much about it.  I, once again, have digressed from my post...

Meanwhile back at the ranch... The Evening Of Praise was wonderful, but also very long.  Anyone that has ever gone to a gospel singing evening knows it will go at least 2 hours and more likely 3-4 hours. Since I went with Bennett (baby brother) and Diane we were at the church so they could get set up and do sound checks and all that pre stuff and then we were at the church for the tear down and all total we were there from about 3:30 in the afternoon until 11 p.m. that night.  I was wiped out.  I slept for the better part of Saturday.  Praise, Inc. was going to sing at a car show and I was looking forward to getting to see all the older cars and enjoy some more music but I was so exhausted that I told Ben he was going to have to go without me.  Diane was also pretty wiped and was staying home until little brother called and smooth talked her into going to the show and doing some more singing both solo and with the guys. I slept, watched a little t.v. and slept some more and some more.

I had planned to get up and go to church with B. and D, on Sunday but I didn't wake up until almost noon on Sunday and when they got home from church we all basically crashed, napping and watching t.v. until Sunday night when we met two of my nephews at the movie, the first one I'd been to at a movie theater since I went with Ben and Diane to see "Elf" when it came out several years ago.  I got up on Monday and drove home. Exhausted.

Somewhere during that stretch of a few days I decided in one of more disastrous decisions that the prednisone wasn't doing any good no more than I was taking... 7.5 mg every other day.  The doctor hadn't told me that you have to step down, way down before you quit taking it and I figured there wouldn't be any problem.  I was so very wrong as any of you who have been on an extended steroid regimen know.

NEWS FLASH... Sometimes I just amaze my own stupid self... I just now in talking with Carol realized I lost almost two months.  I was thinking that I just lost about one month, but I'd been thinking that the concert was in September when they were in August. I got home on Monday even more tired than usual from my trip. And from there things pretty much started heading south.  I slept, got up to eat, maybe get on the computer a bit, maybe not, back to sleep and the next day repeat.  Then the pain started.  I would take pain pills when I got up to feed the dogs in the morning, go back to bed and when I'd get up again I'd take more pain pills just to try to keep the pain at a manageable level... it wasn't working very well.  I went to my regular doctor about getting stronger pain medication until I could see the liver doctor.  I had my first appointment with him on Sept. 20th I think.  Before he did anything medication wise he wanted to get lab work and then we would get down to the business of figuring out what he was needing to treat.  He order 15 different blood tests. I got the bill for them the other day... over six thousand dollars of tests.  Thank God for Medicare otherwise we wouldn't be having this conversation because I'm one of those that has no other medical insurance.

In the time after the blood tests until my appointment to see him again, the pain really kicked in.  I would wake up one day with hot, searing joint pain in maybe my elbows one day and then in my wrists and hands the next. You could see the swelling and almost feel the heat coming off whatever area was hurting that day.  My hands looked like I had been in a fight.  My knuckles would swell up to almost double normal size and the swelling would go halfway up my arm. When the pain traveled again it went to my knees.  I was in such pain just trying to walk from my bed to the bathroom (about 12 steps) that I had to use Carol's cane for several days and thought about getting her walker but I didn't get quite that bad. As the days passed I got to being almost analytical watching the pain traveling from one area to the next in my body.  Almost as if I was on the outside of my body looking in and observing what was going on.  For example I figured out when the low grade fever started coming on the pain would start intensifying. The pain meds my family practice doctor gave me that were stronger than what I normally take for the fibro pain and they would afford me some time where I wasn't curled up in a whimpering blob on the sofa or asleep in the bed on an average of 12 hours out of the 24.

I'm going to make this a two-parter because I'm getting worn out trying to remember what all went on since the end of August.  I can remember 40 years ago great, just don't ask what I had for dinner last night and here I'm trying to recall what went on in my drug induced state for almost two months.  I promise not to make you wait for two days, much less two months but I have to take a break for now...

Back To Blonde...

I have been on a tighter than usual budget because of car repair expenses so when I got my hair cut last week most of the blonde was cut off.  I didn't think much of anything about it until today.  I took Carol to the doctor (in the wheelchair van that has been giving us some problems) and after she was finished with her appointment we decided to splurge and went to McAllister's and split a baked potato with everything but sour cream (I don't do sour cream) and a wonderful chef salad.  Had a nice leisurely lunch/supper then headed back out to the van to come home.  It decided that it didn't want to start.  It has done this several times in the last 3 months but has been running good for the last couple of weeks after our bad gas episode.  Anyway, after giving the old van a half hour to contemplate how bad I was going to cuss it out if she didn't start, I had Carol call her sister to come get her and I called AAA.  I don't know if I've told you all how thankful I am to have AAA but I've been a member since 1969 if that give you a clue.  I've had to have either my little pickup or the van towed four times just in the last two months and there has never been any extra charge.

But I digress, as I often do, even more often as I get older... ahhhumm... back on track now. I sat outside on the patio, in the shade, at McAllister's and waited for the tow truck to show up. About 5:30 the truck pulled up and the driver gets out and asked what was wrong.  Me, "It won't start."  He, "What does it do?". Me, "It turns over and tries to start but then doesn't."  Okay says he, let's give it a try.  I said it will probably start for you... and sure enough it started right up!  He kind of gave me that raised eyebrow look that we all hate to get and I apologized just short of profusely and he patted my arm and said it's okay like you would say to a little old blue-hair that had run over your toe with her wheelchair...

I'm going next week to get my hair bleached back to blonde.  I would rather be thought of as a ditsy blonde than a little old lady that doesn't know how to get her flippin' car started.  The worst thing about getting old is, well, getting old.

Silliness...

Schnauzers in attack mode thinking they have a cat trapped under the stove... they don't. And, yes, that is a hole in the floor but it's not near big enough for a cat... to come in or go out.

SueSue still not convinced that damn cat isn't under the stove... right here, mom... even after I moved the stove so she could see that it was not back there.

I was reading some of the blogs I visit and had just commented when SueSue wants to play she usually starts with bringing me a ball.  If I don't stop and play she will bring something else and drop on my foot... usually the mean kitty that she likes to play tug with and about that time I felt mean kitty being dropped on my foot. Had to take a picture and share.  I didn't move my feet because I was afraid the ball would roll off the pillow.

If that is all that it takes to inspire me to post something I need to be posting more often.  (Laughing at my own self because it takes so little to entertain me sometimes.)

Bras...

I'm going to get on my horse about bras.  They flat make me crazy.  My insanity began many, many years ago when I was just a flat chested kid.  Not just an ordinary flat chested young girl but one that was so flat chested it looked like I'd been steam rolled.  I used to fret about it some especially in senior high and girl's locker room and showers but when I looked at my older sister and my mom, I pretty much figured my lot in life, padded bras.  Then someone told me if I could find a bra that wasn't padded that fit my little ones would have room to grow. I was naive, I was gullible and I grabbed at that little ray of hope.

I was 21 years old.  I walked into the lingerie department of one of the nicest department stores in Okla. City and knew I was in trouble when the matronly and proper looking saleslady approached me and said, "May I help you sir?".  True story.  I sucked it up and explained my mission, all the while watching the doubt grow in her eyes.  She gamely took me to a fitting room, took a few (very few) measurements and excused herself to go find brassieres for me to try on. When she returned she brought several styles for me to try on and we began.  They all fit well around my chest but when it came to cups... sigh... all of them you could have rolled up and pinned the extra fabric. After trying the different styles she graciously suggested I might want to try the juniors department, that they might have something for young teens, i.e. training bras.  Which by the way is such a dumb term,  I mean, you have to train those puppies?  Don't they just grow into their own?  You have to smack those babies around and tell them you go to the left and you go to the right... seems kind of silly to have to "train" them.  I walked out of the store and bought tank tops for my underwear.

But, once again, I digress from my original gripe. I went through the first 60 years of my life not needing to worry about a bra but 40 pounds and 2 inches shorter, I was told, "Aunt Helen, you really need to buy a bra."  Ask not for whom the bell tolls... it tolls for me.  My simple life was about to get very complicated and frustrating.

Okay, I'll compromise.  I'll wear a bra when I go to Ft. Worth to church and out to eat and to weddings and such so I don't embarrass anyone with heading south boom-booms that you can almost tell are boom-booms. So I go bra shopping, this time at WalMart.  Forget that high dollar stuff at the nicer stores. I found a couple to try that I could fasten in front of me and then swing them around and put my arms in the straps and pull them up into place.  I found jog bras that looked like they might be comfortable but it was like trying to put on a girdle if you stepped into it and pulled it up into place. I had flashes of someone trying to hang me from the nearest tree when I tried putting it on over my head.  My shoulders and my elbows prevent me from reaching behind and fastening a bra the normal way without pain, one of those aging things. Why can't you find bras that fasten in the front?  I understand that when some fellow invented the brassiere that ladies had dressers and undressers.  I had a few of the undressers in my life and have been an undresser in my life, but no way have I ever had a dresser.  I found two bras that closed in the front... minimum cup size C.  Forget that!  I'm not rolling up the cups and pinning them either.

Since I have a couple of visits and a wedding looming in the future the search shall continue.  I may even have to go to a higher end store that has a legitimate lingerie department... hell, I may even go to a Victoria's Secret

I Have A Confession...

I am an Olympics junkie.  There.  I no longer have to hide my shame about being an addict.  For as long as there have been Olympics televised I have been in front of a t.v. screen as often as possible.  When I had my own businesses, custom picture framing shops, I always had a television in my work room and it was on so anytime I was working on cutting mats or making frames I could keep an eye on what was going on with "The Games".

While my overall favorites are the winter sports and games I'm just as bad about being glued to the tube for the summer games.  Realistically I know more about the summer sports than the winter sports as I have played or been exposed to those sports all my life.  The closest I've ever gotten to the winter sports are watching them on t.v. except for ice skating one time in my life.  We have maybe one or two 'good' snows a winter in Oklahoma so I've never skied and snowboarding wasn't even a figment of anyone's imagination when I first fell in love with winter sports.  I have dreamed of ski jumping which is kind of crazy since I've never even been on a pair of skis.  I love the idea of the flight after the take off.  Ski jumping would have to be my favorite winter sport to watch.

In the summer games I have played tennis, table tennis, basketball, volley ball (not beach volleyball... no beaches in Oklahoma), swimming, springboard diving, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera, but I am totally fascinated with a summer sport I've never done...rowing, specifically sculling.  There is, to me, such a beauty in that sport, whether it be singles, doubles, or the big boats of eight.  The overhead shots of the rowers pulling the boats through the water makes me think of the lightness of waterbugs skittering delicately across the surface of the water.

I always thought sculling would just be a dream, like ski jumping, that I would only realize while playing in my mind but there is now, in Oklahoma City, a world class rowing center that was built as part of the downtown  revitalization program.  There are Olympic class rowers in London now that have trained in Okla. City and there have been competitive races on the Oklahoma River, a mile long waterway developed for rowing.  I haven't yet been to the aquatic center but hopefully this fall I can go and, perhaps, realize this one dream.

GO USA!

Spring...

Spring is here and things are starting to bloom. This is the first year in a while that I haven't had a camera to share springtime blooms and colors with you all. I'm too shaky and my android phone doesn't have all that good a camera on it so that method of photography is out. I'll get another camera down the road but for now I'll just share pictures I've taken in times past... just because I'm in a spring mood.

One of my favorite blooming shrubs, this weigelia (sp?) is one that we had when we lived in Bartlesville. We planted one last spring but the summer was so hot it didn't make it's first year. I hope to plant another one this year.







This was our Joseph's Coat rose. I hate plants with thorns and stickers but this Joseph's Coat helped me learn to ignore the thorns and love the flowers... Kind of a life lesson, I guess.








Wisteria... I love the smell of these gnarly beauties. I've seen a lot of them in bloom here in Norman over the last couple of weeks. When we lived in Bartlesville there was a 4 inch pipe sticking up in our back yard where some previous owner had installed one of the big, mamu satellite dishes when they first came out. Rather than try to bust out the concrete pad and pull out the pipe we planted this wisteria and grew it up along and around the pipe. The plant had the support and covered the pipe, a win-win for all.



Lilacs... I love them. We got these starts from the place we first rented in Bartlesville before we bought and took them with us. Took about six years for them to start blooming but they were beautiful and smelled heavenly when they did get growing.










Clematis. I miss this plant so much. I planted it when we lived out in the country before we moved to Norman and it was a beautiful clematis. I'm going to start with some more of them this year. I'm hoping it is giving others as much joy as it gave me when I grew it.


So that's the spring stroll for now. Carol showed me how to make a folder and sort my pictures and that's what I'm in the process of doing now. That means more to come...

On the health front... the liver stuff seems to be settling down. The doc is s-l-o-w-l-y letting me get off the steroids. I have been having a lot of problems with my knee and the orthopede had me get an MRI last week and sure enough, I have a torn meniscus. He will repair it in an out patient surgery May 17th and then I will have to do therapy for a while but he told me he can get me walking without pain again. The girls will love getting to have their longer walks.

I donated blood today... my thoughts are with Hallie and her family in their blood drive for CJ and fund raising for organ donors. I figure I can't do too much as far as volunteering or donating money but I sure can donate blood and say prayers.

More to come as I sort out more flower pictures to share.

I Rebelled...

In the first grade. I started young.


How could this sweet little girl who was soooo excited to get to go to kindergarten could, in only a year, become a recalcitrant first grader?

I can truthfully say that I was raised to honor, not only my parents, but also any adults and especially teachers. My grandmother on my momma's side was a teacher, my mom went to college and was qualified to teach. My mother and father both truly felt it was very important for all of us kids to get an education so we could better ourselves... to be successful, fulfilled human beings.

What can I say... my parents also taught us to be truthful. Where I missed the boat was the lesson on WHEN I was supposed to be truthful.


The set-up:

First grade... Miss Bartlett, the teacher.

The criminal:

I'll rat myself out on the line-up... back row, fifth from the right. That smiling, happy girl with the center part and hair up in braids.

The crime:

School lunch. To tell the truth or not to tell the truth.

I'll now plead my case... Sixty years (approximately) after the rebellion.

Some of the time all us kids ate in the school cafeteria. For those of you, dear readers that are younger, you may wonder what's the big deal. For those my age you know that cafeteria food was way different back in the olden days. To say that the food was only a step above hospital food back then may be construed as exaggerated but I digress. I got my tray of cafeteria food for my lunch. I honestly do not remember anything that was on my tray other than.... drum roll...

Mixed carrots and peas. The cause of my standing up to authority. Saying no to my teacher. As the kids say nowdays... MY BAD!!!

I had eaten everything on my tray except the carrots and peas. Miss Bartlett, doing her teacherly duty and patrolling the cafeteria, saw this criminal headed to the trash bin to empty the tray before going out to lunch recess and stopped me in my tracks. "You need to eat your carrots and peas, not put them in the trash." I, in all my innocence, looked up at my teacher and said, "My momma doesn't make me eat peas and carrots." Miss Bartlett drew herself up and said 'we' will not be going out to recess until you eat your peas and carrots...

This child loved recess almost as much as going to school and learning new things. This child and her teacher sat in the cafeteria looking at that tray with those miserable peas and carrots on it until it was time to go to afternoon classes.

I don't remember getting in trouble for being defiant to my teacher but I'm sure that I got a stern talking to about the whole situation. My parents never forced us kids to eat anything. They urged us to try any food that mom put on the table but if we didn't like it we didn't have to eat it or try to eat it the next time mom cooked it. I imagine that I probably related the story to my parents honestly and was probably told that I should have tried to eat my peas and carrots but since I told the truth to the teacher it was okay but don't let it happen again. I am pretty sure I would have remembered if I had gotten a spanking for being rebellious child. I remember most of the spankings I got in my life and I don't think I got whopped for this instance but it has been, OMG, over sixty years ago and I have slept since then.

And to this day I don't like peas and/or carrots alone, much less mixed together. I can eat carrots in carrot cake and a few cooked in with a roast but don't expect me to eat peas... except in fake guacamole. And that's the whole truth and nothing but the truth. Amen.

Let'sPower UpThe Media...

I dropped by Ros-the-Quilter's blog and she had posted about a quilt teacher that had some of her display quilts and teaching materials stolen in a smash and grab at the motel she was staying in on a teaching trip. I put her blog post on FaceBook but decided to go ahead and write a post for those of you not on FB. We form such a network out there on the blogsphere and can reach so many people that I thought "Why Not?" when wondering if a post on my blog might help alert people, not only to watch for her quilts, but to send out another reminder for anytime any of us travel.

Do not leave anything in a car when you stay away from home. Actually we shouldn't even leave anything in our cars at home, but crooks seem to target motel parking lots for quick smash and grab crimes, not having a clue what might be in a bag that they steal. All they are thinking about is turning a quick buck for whatever reason... drugs, booze, jewelry for the girlfriend or girlfriends.

I don't know many people who haven't had their homes or their cars broken into and I can tell you that no matter what is stolen it leaves you with such a sick feeling, such a feeling of vulnerability and loss. Back in the olden days someone broke into the big house (my nickname for our family home). The police figured it was a kid, or some kids, because most of what was stolen was change that I had saved... this was back before copper was added to quarters and half dollars were not uncommon. I had been saving the coins for a coin collection and even now when I run across quarters without the copper layer or older nickels and dimes I still feel a stab of loss from over 50 years ago.

Worse than that was when Carol and I were still living in east Tulsa and she was still teaching. I was in school, taking some art classes, and Carol was still teaching at Catoosa. Two kids broke in the laundry room door, stole Jeff's Nintendo and a bunch of games, stole cassette tapes, this was in the early 90's, and jewelry. Fortunately the neighbors across the street were retired and saw the boys coming from the side of the house with a duffel bag and recognized the boys. When the police came out he was able to tell the officers who the boys were and most of the loot was recovered but a lot of the jewelry was already gone. The item that hurts my heart, to this day, was a ring that my big brother brought back to me from Africa. I had gone to Texas and stayed with my sister-in-law and the kids while he went to Africa to help my sister come home from Mali. Sue was 7 months pregnant and had a 3 year old on the ground and he figured she could use his help getting home. Her husband's tour of duty was to be up in another month but that would have made traveling at her stage of pregnancy not a good thing so Bill flew over for a few days and then flew back with Sue and her oldest boy. While in Africa he did some shopping and my ring was one of the things he brought back to thank me for helping out while he was gone. I hadn't expected anything so that made the ring much more special. I checked pawn shops all around our area, even taking a picture I had drawn of the ring, but it was never recovered...

Sooooo... please help out if you know anyone in the south Texas area that might help watch out for the quilts at garage sales or flea markets, even on Craig's list. Let's see if we can put social media out there for a good cause. Here is the book marked page from the blog of the quilter/teacher that has the info about the theft:

QUILTS STOLEN «

Thanks for your time.

Stupid Questions...

Do you, like me, ever wonder if there is no originality left in the world of news reporters? I know that right now I'm under the influence of drugs (for a toothache people...) but I just wonder how many stupid questions reporters can ask. What started all this pondering? The t.v. trailer for the news was showing a man charged with child porn being walked to the court for arraignment and this idiot news man hollers, "Is there anything you'd like to say to the families of these children?"... What in hell do you think he is going to say? 'They sure are cute kids, bubba, do you think I can meet some of them?'. Sheesh. Sometimes I wonder.

I know that years ago I heard that commercials were created at the level of 12 year olds because the powers that be figured that would reach the most viewers but I think that the schools of journalism are teaching questioning skills at even lower mentality levels than that... just saying. If the aforementioned criminal makes any kind of answer to the reporter other than something like 'how stupid are you for asking that?' he is liable in Oklahoma and most other states to get his own self shot the first opportunity one of the family members has to shoot his sick ass. I know that the t.v. news people have to try to sell their station to you in these teaser clips but I, and I'm no intellectual, would be looking for a newscast with a little more meat to it. If I can't find something better I'll just stick to watching 'Cops". Watch those boys in blue bust those bad boys, not just ask them stupid questions.

That's my gripe for today. All comments are mine... under drugs or not.

Miscellaneous B.S.

I was looking for some inspiration for a post this afternoon and got to thinking that I (and I’m pretty sure I’m not the only one) have collected some weird images over time. For whatever reason, each and every one struck a chord in my twisted brain and I saved the images. I thought I’d share some of the oddities with you today. The above has made me laugh and shake my head more than once… felt like that more than once.

On those days when I feel like I’m the only one with a decent attitude and everyone I’m around is a sour puss… I need this printed on a card to hand out.

This is kind of how I feel when I’m hunting where in the heck I put photos… One of these days I’m going to learn how to sort my pictures into folders… right after I learn how to make a folder.

Yep, been there, done that. I think I’ll make a t-shirt and along the same lines…

Not to dwell here very long because that might indicate that I remember ever having a sex life, we’ll move right along.

I mean it… we will move right along… I got stuck for a minute.

Sometimes I have to get downright rough with my own mind to get the channel changed but I’m like Rosie the Riveter… I can do it!

I seem to be able to live by this axiom daily…

And this is how I often end up looking after learning something stupid and then someone with great timing sends me something like this to drive the point home:

That’s when I take my own self out behind the woodshed for a good therapy session…

Y’all feel free to steal any of the images on this post. Some of you may even recognize the ones you have e-mailed me over time… just want you to know that I appreciate each and every funny you pass on to me. I’ll look forward to sharing some more of these in the future.

Enjoy!

Somebody's Peeing In My Post Toasties...

Just found out that there are changes afoot in my blog world, by Google... Now it's bad enough that FaceBook is shoving changes down our throat which is making me thinking twice about even bothering to keep a profile on FB, but Google now from what I understand is wanting to change things around with our blogger accounts. No sidekicks on the sidebar and who else knows what.

I haven't started investigating all the things they are going to change but there is one thing you all know... I hate changes in areas that I am already uncomfortable in to start with... like internet shit. It's so much a foreign language to me, computer stuff, that it has taken me 15 years to get comfortable enough to (a) Turn the son of a bitch on without fear of blowing the sucker up... (B) learn how to do email... (C) Start slowly venturing further on to the web by doing searches for various interests... (D) Start a blog and last but not least (E)signed up for Facebook. All this process has taken me 15+ years which should give you an idea of how tentative I am with trying to learn anything technologically involved. Once I learn it and get comfortable with it I'm good.
I can do the things I like to do and try to learn a little more each time I get on, try to figure out something new or make a new friend that can explain stuff to me so I don't have to stretch my brain so hard... especially since I'm getting to the age where what viable braincells I do have left are dropping off left and right.

I don't know if I'll have enough brains to take me forward into more new technology especially since my ass is dragging way back yonder trying to catch up to the rest of me already.

I just want to be happy in my playhouse with the things I'm familiar with and only learn new things because I want to, not because I have no choice.

This is my story and I'm sticking to it.

Snippets And Odds And Ends...

I get things running around in my head sometimes... I call them many things like wonderings, idiot attacks and/or brilliant revelations so I decided to jot down one or two... or seven. Who knows?

Do you know how to fold a fitted sheet? I do know how to do that because my momma taught me how many, many years ago when fitted sheets were first introduced to the market. The second part of this mind wandering is if you know how to fold them do you care whether or not you do?

Am I the only person who wonders why the advertising people pay people to trash a place and put leftover food out on the counters and blindfold people to see if their air freshener covers up the smell... when all they would have to do is go to most any college kids apartments without giving them notice and film it for probably a 6-pack and a twenty dollar bill and then lower the prices on the air freshener?

And, following along this line, has anyone besides me ever thought about giving someone a snow shovel to make it easier to clean their house? I didn't, but I sure thought about it...

Is there a gene that makes some people inventive and others (like myself) the ones without the gene that are saying, "Why didn't I think of that?"

What about that person this past week that won 14.3 million playing the wrong lottery game?... I keep telling our good Lord that winning the lottery wouldn't spoil me or change me and I keep getting the reminders that you have to buy the tickets before you can win... no matter which lottery you play.

No matter how much closer I move to where my sibs live, the older I get the harder it is to make myself drive to visit them... or even go to the grocery. Or maybe that is my state of mind right now. Just sayin'.

Do you ever feel like your doc is just experimenting on you?

Does anyone else have brilliant thoughts while out and about and then when you get home and go to write them down don't remember what they were? And how hard would it be for me to get it through my thick skull to carry a little tape recorder around so I could save these thoughts for posterity with just a click of a button...

There were a bunch more things running around in my brain but evidently they fell between the lobes while I was trying to document the wonderment of my thought processes... Next time maybe I will have more that I've written down or recorded to share with you but for now...

That's all, folks!

Grits Aren't Just For Deep Southerners...

Any more, anyway... I told you all about the Chili Cheese Grits that Carol whipped up for Christmas. Neither she nor I have ever been a fan of grits but she ran across this recipe in a magazine and thought it sounded good... I thought she was nuts trying it out on a Christmas lunch but we were having company and she figured it would be more likely to be eaten, I guess. Not wanting to rain on her parade and since it had green chiles in it which gave the dish a southwest or Mexican nod I thought, "what the heck... give it a try". Dang, it was good. Almost like a spoon bread in texture. So I had to eat 'crow' along with everything else for lunch on Christmas. Here you go... enjoy.

CHILI CHEESE GRITS

3 Cups water
1 teaspoon salt
1 clove garlic, minced
1 Cup quick-cooking grits
1/4 Cup butter, at room temperature
1-1/2 Cups Longhorn cheese, grated (about 6 ounces)
4-1/2 ounce can chopped green chiles
2 eggs
1/2 Cup milk
freshly ground black pepper, to taste

Preheat oven to 350 F.

Bring water to a boil and add the salt and garlic. Slowly stir in the grits and continue stirring for 4 or 5 minutes or until thickened. Remove from heat.

Add the butter, 1 Cup of the cheese and the green chiles, stirring until butter is completely melted. Beat the eggs with the milk, add to the mixture and mix well.

Pour into a greased 2 quart baking dish and bake, uncovered, in the preheated oven for 45 minutes. Sprinkle with the remaining cheese and serve.

Whomever wrote the original recipe should have added that the recipe might make a non-grits person into one who would request this dish. Obviously if I talked about it and took the time to copy the recipe for you all it is something that I would eat again.

Who says you can't teach an old dog new tricks... or new foods to eat and like. I think Carol just wants to see if she can make something that neither of us has cared to eat into something good and yes, ma'am, she can!

Texas Trash And Other Tidbits...

First off let me say that Chloe (and mom) made it through her health crisis. She's eating and cleaning the floor for any little tidbit that may have been dropped, she's barking at anyone who dares to darken her door or the little kids that she can see playing when she's in the yard. I'm so glad to have her back to her old self that I don't even threaten to beat her for her barking... I just pet her and tell her to hush her mouth.

Now on to the inquiry about Texas Trash. Originally I believe it was more commonly known as Chex Mix and the recipe you can find on all the Chex cereal boxes. Where we got to calling it Texas Trash was from additions and augmentations to the original recipe by friends in Texas and it just seems easier to remember for me than Chex Mix and more fun to say. The original recipe calls for (this is just guesstimation from me... we don't have any cereal here now for me to be exact) 2 cups of each of the Chex cereals, Cheerios, pretzels and nuts. Carol has also used Bugels (the snack) and usually uses mixed nuts. She also uses a full stick of margarine or butter instead of half a stick. You melt that down and add to it a couple of tablespoons of Worcestershire sauce and some seasoning salt, a couple of teaspoons I think. I can't remember if there are other ingredients and Carol is in the shower as I write this but if you don't find it on the Chex cereal boxes, give me a shout and I'll find out for sure the recipe. Anyway after you melt your butter or margarine and add the other ingredients, you pour it all over the cereal, pretzels and other treat stuff like Bugles or Goldfish or whatever and stir it up good. I would suggest you put in one of those throw away turkey cooking pans because then it goes in the oven on a low heat, probably like 250F. and every 15 minutes you pull it out and stir it up to get all the seasoning to all of the cereals and stuff. You do that two or three times and then you dare people to not eat it until they are full of it, too.

Really it is one of those snack things that folks will sit and pick at while watching football games or visiting with folks that stop in for a visit. It's fun finger foods for the little ones and everyone figures out what their favorite part is (mine are the rice Chex, for now) and you will catch them picking out their favorites. It is a snack that is easy to add to or change around like our friends that like to add Tabasco for a little kick (mmmm good!) or different types of snack foods like the Bugles or Goldfish crackers.

In a day or two I'll get Carol to print out the recipe for the green chili grits and pass that on to you all. I've never been a grits fan, nor has Carol, but she ran across the recipe and decided to try it. We are both glad she did and will have it again soon.

So that kind of explains about the Texas Trash/Chex Mix. It's fun to eat and easy to make, I could probably make it but don't tell Carol. You can have it going in the oven while you do other things and folks sure don't pass it by...

Enjoy.