Flashback Friday

As I was sitting at the American Legion post earlier this evening waiting for my order of fish, I saw some adults come in with kids in tow.  I watched as they placed their orders, and in all cases, went to the bar and got their kids a pop while they waited for their fish.  It reminded me of Friday nights when I was a kid.

Growing up, Friday night was the only time of the week that Grandma nor Mom cooked; mainly, because that was grocery shopping night, and as soon as we would finish supper, we'd throw away our paper plates and head to the grocery store.  It gave Grandma a break from cooking, since she did all of the cooking during the week because Mom worked.  Mom and Dad would get home from work at 3:30, and while one rested, the other would get me and off we would go to Eddie's Seafood House.  It seemed like we were driving to the other side of the city, but in reality it was about 12 minutes from home.  They would order the same thing every week: two fish boxes and an extra order of french fries.  The fries were for us to eat on the way home.  To this day, I don't think I've had french fries that taste as good as those.  They were the krinkle-cut shoestring fries and oh how they rocked.  The french fries were our secret, and Mom or Dad would always toss the empty bag into the garbage can in the garage before we took the fish into the house. 

Our Friday night fish supper was also special because it was the only evening meal during the week when I could drink a pop instead of tea or milk.  In fact, we would all five drink pop - Mom, Dad, Grandma, Grandpa and me.  Usually there was a variety to choose from.  Mom and Grandma would always have a variety of Big K or Check drinks - cola, orange, root beer, grape and lemon-lime were our favorites.  And of course, we'd drink them out of our awesome Tupperware glasses. 

What Time Is It?

Last week at work, we started company-wide training on our new computer system called Syteline that we'll be using starting January 1.  We had three sessions so far, and today it was my turn to go.  The class was held in the newly renovated training room in the old part of the factory.  It's a pretty good hike over there, and some of my co-workers drove their cars there.  Like I said it's a far piece there, but not worth the effort of driving your car there.  But I digress.  The President of the company/head of my department sat next to me and we made a pact this morning to do our best to keep each other awake during the class.  Between the soft drinks and water we drank, we did manage not to fall asleep.  After about an hour of looking at the monitor that was the size of my TV at home, I realized something was different on the screen.  Our new system is all Windows based, so the top tool bars and bottom task bars looked the same, except for one small thing: there was no clock on the bottm task bar.  I nudged the President and whispered for him to look at his screen and sure enough, he had no clock either.  Whaddya know?  I always knew that programmers were very smart people, but intentionally not having a clock on the task bar on computers that are used solely for training is pure genius.  Nobody could tell how long they'd been in what we call Syteline hell.

Another Full Moon Experience

The 'rents and I got up at 5:30 yesterday morning to watch the lunar eclipse.  It was the first lunar eclipse I'd witnessed personally, and I have to say it was pretty darned cool. I also witnessed another phenomenon yesterday: the Full Moon Experience. 

I'm sure you know what I'm talking about -- the way that people act plain crazy during the full moon.  They drive crazier than normal, and act crazier than normal.  Weird things happen during the full moon, too.  Unfortunately, this happens every month.  But people aren't the only ones affected by the full moon; it affects animals, too.  Take our two donkeys for example.  Yesterday, they acted crazier than normal.  They were afraid of everything, and were skittish all day long.  When I pulled under the carport last night, they were even afraid of my car and ran to the far back lot.  We could never figure out what was scaring them throughout the day and just chalked up to the Full Moon Experience.

The neighborhood raccoons were under the influence of the full moon as well.  They terrorized our neighbors' garbage cans last night, and took advantage of the full moon party to spread out as much garbage in our neighbors' yard as possible.  But we've got the traps set again tonight and hope to have another successful capture tomorrow morning.  I'll keep you posted and will take pictures. 

Let's See A Real Iron Man

This past Sunday, the 'Ville was host to the Iron Man triathlon.  This was the first year the event was held here in Louisville, and is a qualifier for the big Iron Man triathlon in Hawaii.  At 6:50 Sunday morning, over 2000 participants swam in the murky, smelly Ohio River for 2.4 miles (half of it against the strong current), bicycled 112 miles to  LaGrange, KY and bac, and then ran 26.2 miles.  Chris McDonald and Heather Gollnick were the mens' and womens' winners. McDonald won his first Ironman title in a come-from-behind effort in a time of 8:38:39, while Gollnick claimed her fifth Ironman title (and second of this year) with an overall time of 9:23:22.  I know some strong men and women, but I don't think I even know anyone who could accomplish all of that swimming, bicycling and running in one week, much less 8 to 9 hours. 

Everyone that entered this competition should have been given a spot in the big daddy Iron Man Kona competition just for being brave enough to swim in the Ohio River. If it were up to me, I would have given them all a prize for dodging the driftwood and debris.  But I digress.  All of that swimming, bike riding and running is definitely a way to determine who is made of iron, but if they really want to find out who's an Iron Man, they should have changed the competition a bit.  They should have held the event last month when I-64 was shut down for the road work -- they could have dropped them off in southern Indiana and told them to get across the river to Louisville the best way they can without using I-64.  All of those brave men and women who made it to work on time during that month are the real Iron Men and Women.  Swimming over two miles in the Ohio River?  That's nothing compared to travelling the Sherman Minton and Kennedy bridges when almost-daily wrecks forced the bridges to be down to one lane during rush hour traffic. 

Mullet Watch

He's done it again, faithful readers.  Yet another mullet sighting by TWIT's #1 mullet spotter JMc:

I forgot to report the mullet I saw at the Portland Recycling Center last week. I was pulling in the parking lot to recycle some copper for my boy scout troop and there it was leaving to get into his auto.

This is the first Red Mullet I have ever seen. Hair cut real close all around like a "Skullet" with the Kentucky Waterfall on the back. Of course this particular host of the mullet was not wearing a shirt….go figure.

We also have another mullet sighting by faithful reader and mullet spotter SH.  She spotted this mullet yesterday at the last day of the Kentucky State Fair.  It was spotted in the Great Kentucky Cookout tent eating half-price fried chicken.  The mullet wasn't very long, but it was a mullet nonetheless, and it was trimmed very neatly.  SH guessed that he got it trimmed especially for last night's 80's concert featuring Styx, Foreinger, and Def Leppard. 

Mullet count: 31

Link Of The Week

I venture a guess that there isn't a person alive that does not listen to the radio when they're in the car.  And now with the internet, we're able to listen to internet radio.  You can find internet radio channels that play any kind of music you can imagine.  Add to that channels for sports, news, and talk radio, and you've got a heck of a lot of internet radio channels accessible to us.  

If you're looking a new internet radio station to play while you're online, look no further - I came across a great site this week.  Visit http://www.live365.com.  There's more stations here than I ever dreamed of in one collection.  Why, they have 249 country stations.  I looked and didn't see a station for The First Lady of Country Music, Miss Tammy Wynette, but just give it time; I'm sure it will be added soon. 

Saturday Joke Time

Sister Mary Francis and Sister Catherine Elizabeth are driving down the street when a vampire jumps on the hood of their car.

Sister Catherine Elizabeth screams "Sister Mary Francis show him your cross!"

Sister Mary Francis leans out the window of the car and says "Hey vampire, get the     %$#& off my car!"

Farewell, Boots

TWIT is very sad to report that my dear friend Boots has died. He was 83 years old.  His name was Bernard Haysley, but everyone called him Boots.  I had the priviledge of knowing Boots only a short time - for about seven years - but he was a dear, sweet gentleman.  He was the father of one of my family's best friends (and my co-worker) Beverly.  In the three years that he lived next door to us, the 'rents and I came to love him just like a father and grandfather. 

Boots was a previous Commander at our VFW post, and was a proud Navy veteran of WWII.  During the war, he served on the U.S.S. Alabama for almost three and half years.  In 2005, Boots and his family spent Thanksgiving in Washington DC to visit the WWII Memorial, where tribute was paid to Boots and his fellow comrads that served on the Alabama and other ships during the war. 

Boots contracted a blood disease that eventually developed into leukemia.  For the last six weeks, he spent most of the time in bed, but until the last week, he managed to go outside on the deck 4 or 5 times a day.  Whenever Dad saw Boots out on the deck, he would drop whatever he was doing and run up there and visit with him for as long as he felt like sitting outside.  Boots loved fried green tomatoes, and I bet Mom made a dozen batches of them during the past six weeks, taking him a big plate each time.

Boots also loved to go over to the casino boat.  In fact, he was a Platinum player's club member.  I had the priviledge of going there with him a few times.  But his gaming partner was his girlfriend Virginia.  They would play pinochle two or three times a week, and would go to the boat a few times a month.  Boots would call Virginia every day faithfully, and they would chat for an hour or so.  I talked with Virginia at the funeral home tonight, and she told me that she didn't even want to answer the phone anymore when it rang because she knew it wouldn't be Boots.

Boots loved his country, his family, and his friends.  And as one of his fellow comrads from the VFW told me tonight as he and I said our goodbyes to Boots in front of his flag-draped casket, the world would be a better place if there were more Boots' out there.  I couldn't agree more.  Farewell, Boots.  We'll continue to cheer for your Cincinnati Reds. 

Bike Night, Take Three

The 'Rents and I just got back from another awesome bike night.  I have to say it was the coolest one I've been to.  This bike night wasn't at a bar or restaurant parking lot; it was at our church.  And it rocked. The group (I hesitate to use the term "gang") is called the Spirit Riders, and they meet every Thursday evening at our church for supper and prayer time.  Each week, a different Sunday School sponsors the meal and comes to visit with the bikers. 

Last month, the 'Rents' class sponsored the meal, and the 'Rents attended their first bike night.  I had a meeting that night and couldn't make it, but assured them I would go the next week.  Thursday came and with it came a huge storm that blew down a tree in the back, so we had to stay home and get the tree up lest the donkeys get out through the downed fence.  The following Thursday just as we were leaving, in came the raccoon hunters with traps, so we had to stay and talk to them.  The next Thursday (last week) we were once again ready to go when once again a big storm came and once again blew down another tree on the fence.  We had to stay and fix the fence to keep the donkeys from escaping.  But we vowed that nothing would keep us from this week's bike night. And it didn't.

We got there and the dining room was packed.  The Spirit Rider's chaplain said there were 72 people there - about half bikers and half Walnut Street members.  How cool is that?  He also asked that the church members and bikers not all sit together but to mix it up at the tables.  At my table, we had Tina and Amy (chick bikers) and George (another biker chaplain).  After supper, the chaplain asked for prayer requests and then we prayed for friends, relatives, and co-workers of the bikers, and we prayed for all of the bikers there.  We even prayed for a three-legged kitten named Tripod to be adopted so it wouldn't be put to sleep.  After the prayer, two of the bikers talked about their lives and how they've been changed.  When one giant of a guy named Don told about his life as an alcoholic and drug addict and how he spent more of his life in prison than out, there wasn't a dry eye in the room. 

On the way home I thought alot about the Spirit Riders.  Since it was Thursday - the official bike night inthe 'Ville - we saw a ton of bikers out on the road coming home.  Most of them were probably going to or from a bike night at Texas Roadhouse or the Swamp.  Now first of all, I've been to bike nights at both of those places, and I see nothing wrong with them.  But it's the best environment for bikers that are trying to overcome alcohol addiction to attend a bike night at a bar parking lot.  It's just awesome that a church and a group like the Spirit Riders has an alternative available to the bikers that are struggling with their recovery and sobriety.  The three of us said we can't wait till next Thursday. We'll be back again with the Spirit Riders.  The chaplain Al even said that once we become "regulars" they might just give us cool biker knicknames.  I can't wait.

State Fair Review

I know you, my faithful readers, have been accustomed to reading my top ten interesting items from my trip to the Kentucky State Fair.   After spending yesterday and today at the fair in the oppressive heat and humidity, I'm worn out as I type this.  But I did have TWIT on my mind the past two days of fair going - I wanted to come up with the perfect journal entry.  Yesterday, I'd originally planned on writing a Top Ten Foods Eaten At The Kentucky State Fair By Puddin and Her Dad, but we only came up with 8.  Then while walking through the vendors and booths in the South Wing, I saw the most bizarre thing I've ever seen at the Kentucky State Fair.  And I think I can safely say I will probably  never seen anything more bizarre at future Kentucky State Fairs, nor any state fair for that matter.  There in the South Wing, among booths selling kitchen knives, pleather purses and wallets, Watkins products, and double-paned windows, was a booth selling wooden caskets.  Hand to heaven, they were selling wooden caskets.  I just don't think there's anything else I can say about that, so I'll leave you with the Top Eight Foods Eaten At The Kentucky State Fair By Puddin And Her Dad:

1.  Corndog
2.  Bottle of water
3.  Country ham biscuit
4.  Pineapple whip (ice cream cone)
5.  Ribeye steak sandwich
6.  Fried ribbon potato
7.  Lemonade
8.  Cold Bud Light

Please note that the first four items were eaten within the first hour of fair attendance.

I'll Never Complain About Walking Again

Earlier this evening, I called my Aunt Helen in California to get a recipe from her.  Her husband, my Uncle Roy, died about two years ago, but after the initial grieving process and adjustment, she's doing great.  She had some health issues this past year, and after her doctor took her off of some meds, she's doing much, much better.  She went from not being able to walk across the room without having to stop three times to walking two miles a day.  Now, I give anyone major props for walking two miles a day; even more props if they're in their 70's or 80's.  My Mom walks two miles a day, and I'm proud of her for not missing a day during the massive heat wave we've been under.  During the phone conversation, my Aunt went on to say that she walks every morning with a friend in her subdivision.  Then she said her friend is 99 years old.  Needless to say, I was speechless.

The man said that even though his wife is "younger" (she's only 92) she didn't care about walking; she chooses to exercise in the clubhouse pool every day.  Once again, color me speechless.  So he walks with my Aunt.  That's just awesome.  I don't think there's much I can say about that other than it puts me to shame.

Mullet Watch

TWIT's #1 mullet spotter JMc has been hard at work and brings us a report of two mullet sightings:

Well, my Kentucky State Fair adventure this past Saturday only conjured up 2 mullets.  Disappointed to say the least. (Editor's note:  I agree with you, JMc.  I would have thought the first Saturday of the fair, plus cooler temperatures, would have brought more mullets out than that.)

The first mullet sighting was outside Freedom Hall near the fountain, it was a big creature.  The only problem I’m having is I couldn’t tell if it was a man or a woman.  I think it was a woman.  Anyway, the typical white trash mullet dark brown in color and the host or hostess was wearing a t-shirt with the sleeves cut off.

The second mullet was spotted inside where the “junk” is. (Editor's note:  the East wing of the fair)  Now I liked this set-up.  It was blond, trimmed and groomed in the front and sides “Business” not too long in the back but it was curly “Party!!!”.  The interesting part was he was a salesman…..a push a button organ salesman.  You know the ones, they play real cheesy music and people actually think they can play the organ.  The music looks like something from a child’s learn how to play piano book volume 1…Johnny one notes.

Mullet count: 29

Link Of The Week

School started this past week in Jefferson county, and it's just a matter of time before we're bombarded with fundraisers from our co-workers' kids. As I've said before, I have no problem ordering things from the catalogs, and in turn, I will hit up those parents when I sell raffle tickets for the VFW.  I came across a good site this week that can help all of us with our fundraisers.  Visit http://www.fundraisingip.com and you can get all sorts of tips and info to make your fundraiser more successful.  I can't be sure, but I'd be willing to bet one of the tips is "Make sure Puddin is in a happy mood and she'll buy anything you're selling."

What A Great Way To Spend The Evening

                    

                    

This past Thursday started out fairly uneventful, if you consider that the temperature was a nauseating 105 degrees.  I got home from work, and laid down on the couch to crash for an hour before the 'rents and I headed downtown to church.  I was just about ready to doze off when it started thundering and lightning.  I got up and came to the back bedroom to shut down the computer when the Mother Of All Storms hit.  I sat here looking out the one window that wasn't covered by the heat-reducing paper, and hand to heaven, it looked like it does when I'm inside my car at the drive-thru car wash.  After a few minutes we all three heard a thud.  After safely determining the thud wasn't a tree on the house, we looked out and saw that the garage and gazebo were safe.  Then we saw the big maple tree down on the fence.  Great.  As soon as the rain eased up, we put on our raincoats and ran out to assess the damage.  Anyone else with animals in a fenced-in area would have been panicking, thinking that the animals would get out where the fence was down.  Not us.  We knew the donkeys were probably cowering in the corner of the barn. 

After saying a quick prayer of thanks that the house and garage were OK, we started in on cutting, sawing, chopping, and dragging the tree and all of its parts off of the fence.  Let me rewind a moment and say that it was not our tree that had fallen; it was the neighbors'.  Mom made a quick phone call next door to inform Nadine and Richard that their tree had fallen on our fence.  Within moments, reinforcements arrived in the form of the neighbors' son, daughter-in-law and two big strapping grandsons.  Thank you, Lord.  Everybody pitched in and before dark, we had the tree rest of the way down and in a huge pile in the neighbor's field.  Well, it's only fair, since it was their tree.

And that's how we spent our Thursday night.

Flashback Friday

The Kentucky state fair opened yesterday for it's annual ten-day run.  I give major props to the fair goers that braved the 105 degree temperature yesterday as they trudged through the midway.  But other than the midway, the beer tents, and some food booths, everything else is inside in air conditioned comfort.  In fact, the Kentucky Fair and Exposition Center holds the record by having over one million square feet of air conditioned indoor space.  As a kid, and even today, I'm still amazed that the cows, pigs, and other livestock stay in air conditioning at the fair.  I bet they look forward to going to the fair as much as I did, just so they could get out of the hot sun and stuffy barns for a few days.

As a kid, the fair was one of the highlights of summer.  Even though to me it marked the official end of summer and beginning of school, it still rocked.  Our family trip to the fair was always the first Saturday of the fair.  We would leave the house at about 9:00 in the morning and wouldn't get home until after midnight.  As soon as we got there, the first thing we would do was get a corn dog and a lemon shake-up, even though we had breakfast just an hour before.  We'd start out by looking at the military displays and the Budweiser Clydesdales that were at the fair almost every year.  Then we would visit the West Wing and check out the livestock and agriculture exhibits.  We'd also look at the quilts (Mom's favorite) and the 4-H exhibits (my favorite). 

After the West Wing, we would check out the wonderful WT-filled midway.  My fascination with all things WT began at an early age, and still continues today.  Mom and Dad would walk with me through the entire length of the midway, stopping to let me ride on the few rides that I would get on, which was usually the pony rides and the bumper cars.  I would play a few games, but never really got into the midway carnie games very much.  I always wanted to do the toss-the-ping-pong-ball-in-the-goldfish-bowl game, but since we would be there at the fair all day long, the fish wouldn't have lasted very long after I won him. 

On our way out of the midway, we would stop at the big Great Kentucky Cook-Out tent for lunch.  We would always have the same thing every year: melt-in-your-mouth ribeye steak sandwiches and lemonade.  To this day, I have never had a ribeye steak as tender as those, not even in expensive steakhouses.  But I digress.  After we ate, we would walk back through the West Wing so we could stay in the air conditioning, and would stop in Freedom Hall and watch the free afternoon session of the horse show. Sure, we all three love horses, but this was the unofficial rest period of the day.  We would stretch our in the seats as the show was going on, and would relax and usually end up dozing off for a bit.  We weren't embarrassed about falling asleep at the free horse show, because there were dozens of other fair goers around us doing the same thing. 

After we caught our second wind, we would head over to the coolest part of the fair, the East Wing.  The East Wing has the booths where you get all kinds of cool free stuff, and lots of free plastic bags to carry the free stuff.  We would have our bags full of pencils, emery boards, cups, refrigerator magnets, and the list goes on and on.  One of the most popular freebies back in the day was the old school wooden yardstick.  And it's still a popular freebie today.   While in the East Wing, we would stop at Hudson's Fudge stand.  I'll always remember the sign they had on their stand - "Like Grandma tried to make."  A trip to the fair was not complete until you got some creamy peanut butter fudge.

Once we left the East Wing, we would see some of the free shows; yet another opportunity to stretch out and rest our tired feet.  We'd end up at one of the many gigantic music tents and would listen to whatever band was playing while we ate our supper of more corn dogs and Italian sausage sandwiches.  After supper, we'd trudge back to the car and drop off our bags of free stuff, and would freshen up.  Mom would pack a cooler with some water, ice, and trusty white wash rags.  We'd pour some of the ice water on the rags and wash our hot faces.  In case of a candy apple emergency, Mom would also have a wet wash rag inside of a plastic bread bag tucked in her purse.  She was, and is, prepared. 

After freshening up, we would head back into Freedom Hall for the highlight of the day - the rodeo.  The rodeo was always held the first weekend of the fair, and during the intermission would be a concert by a big-named country star.  I've seen Lynn Anderson (from back in her "Rose Garden" hey day), Crystal Gayle, Eddie Rabbit, Jerry Clower, and Dolly Parton during our years at the rodeo.  The stage was pretty simple -- two flat-bed trailers pushed together, but it still sounded awesome. 

As I mentioned earlier, we would arrive back home sometime after midnight, dead tired, but I would still be on a high from everything we did that day.  Another tradition followed - the Sunday after our trip to the fair was our day of rest, and that was just about the only Sunday that we stayed home from church.  I'm pretty sure the Lord didn't mind.

Heat Wave Update

The heat wave continues.  Today's projected high of only 92 degrees will make it the 19th consecutive day that the temperature was 90 or higher. And in case you missed it, yesterday's high was 105 degrees.  To give you a little better perspective, at 5:00 yesterday evening in Louisville it was 105 degrees.  At the same time in Las Vegas (which was 2:00 PST, the hottest part of the day) it was only 102 degrees, which was their high for the day.  We can officially say it was hotter in Louisville, KY than it was in Las Vegas. 

I Think I'm Going To Russia

Russians get day off to procreate, then win prizes

By The Denver Post

Article Last Updated: 08/15/2007 12:42:25 AM MDT

Moscow - A Russian region of Ulyanovsk has found a novel way to fight the nation's birth-rate crisis: It has declared Sept. 12 the Day of Conception and for the third year running is giving couples time off from work to procreate.

The hope is for a brood of babies exactly nine months later on Russia's national day. Couples who "give birth to a patriot" during the June 12 festivities win money, cars, refrigerators and other prizes.

Ulyanovsk, about 550 miles east of Moscow, has held similar contests since 2005. Since then, the number of competitors, and the number of babies born to them, has been on the rise.

Russia, with one-seventh of Earth's land surface, has just 141.4 million citizens, making it one of the most sparsely settled countries in the world. With a low birth rate and a high death rate, the population has been shrinking since the early 1990s.

In his state-of-the-nation address last year, President Vladimir Putin called the demographic crisis the most acute problem facing Russia and announced a broad effort to boost Russia's birth rate, including cash incentives to families that have more than one child.

Ulyanovsk Gov. Sergei Morozov has added an element of fun to the national campaign.

The 2007 grand prize went to Irina and Andrei Kartuzov, who received a UAZ-Patriot, a sport utility vehicle. Other contestants won video cameras, TVs, refrigerators and washing machines.

I'm marking my calendar and putting a big red circle on September 12.  Maybe I should use my new passport that I just got a few days ago, and take a trip to Russia next month.  I'm not that old yet - I'm pretty sure I could still pop out a baby or two.  And you know that I'm all about volunteering - what a great way this would be to help out the country formerly known as the U.S.S.R.!

I did some research, and found out that the life expectancy of men in Russia is 56 years.  If this is the case, then I could go to Russia in a few weeks, find a rich old Russian man in his mid-fifties, have his baby, and inherit his fortune in rubels and win a refrigerator, too.  Why, I would become the Russian version of Anna Nicole. 

The Heat Wave Continues

As I type this, it's 7:15 in the morning, and the temperature is already 85 degrees, according to the official thermometer at The Compound.  That's just not right.  It was 103 yesterday, and 102 the day before.  It's supposed to be 101 today.  If the temperature is above 90 today (which it will probably be by the time I get to work this morning) it will be the 18th consecutive day of temperatures over 90 degrees.  I know it's August and it's supposed to be hot, but not as hot as damned Egypt.

Farewell, Commander

I'm sad to report that our VFW post Commander Donnie Hermes has died.  He was 72 years old.  Donnie fought a courageous battle against cancer for the past year and a half.  He retired from the Louisville Fire Department after serving for 30 years, and was a proud veteran.  He loved his family, his country, and his VFW post. 

Donnie and his wife Jan, our previous Auxiliary President, were the first two friends that my family and I made when we joined the post.  They welcomed us with open arms, literally; I don't guess we ever saw them when they didn't give us a hug.  She is diabetic, and Mom and Dad would often make "his and hers" cakes for them - hers with Splenda and his with good ole sugar.  He got the biggest kick out of the fact that he and Dad were excellent bakers; there will never be another pineapple upside down cake like Donnie made. 

One my favorite memories of Commander Donnie is of a phrase he would say.  In the canteen at the post, when someone was ready to leave and started saying their goodbyes to everybody there, Donnie would always say "Awww, let's have one more then we'll all go."  Yep, one more then we'll all go.

We Don't Need No Protector Spirit

Grumpy Groundhog Disrupts Museum Tours

AP

Posted: 2007-08-13 16:35:43

SAGINAW, Mich. (AP) - Tours at a 163-year-old home-turned-museum are sometimes disrupted by a grumpy groundhog. The furry critter's digging has foiled some of the Saginaw Valley Historic Preservation Society's attempts to refurbish the house on the city's east side.

"We put in a walkway, and part of that collapsed due to Grumpy's efforts," preservationist Thomas Mudd told The Saginaw News.

Construction workers leveled a mound of soil that Grumpy the Groundhog had settled into, "but Grumpy still has his hole under the handicap ramp," Mudd said.

Mudd's latest tactic is to use fox urine as a groundhog repellent. But other efforts have failed to rid the pest in the past. Mudd tried evicting Grumpy with ammonia and mothballs, but the animal dumped the offending materials outside of his tunnel.

A few years ago, Mudd said he baited a trap with broccoli, caught Grumpy and took him to a wooded park near the Tittabawassee River.  "I waved good-bye to Grumpy, and I was so happy," Mudd said.

Grumpy was back within a week.

"This is a game for Grumpy," Mudd said. "Grumpy was almost happy to see me. We were back to the old battle."

Despite the epic conflict, Grumpy has become something of a mascot for the Cushway House.  So adorable, in fact, that young students touring the building lose interest in the historical information once Mudd brings up Grumpy.  "I've learned my lesson not to mention Grumpy until the very last," Mudd said.

Chippewa Indian groups have suggested that Grumpy possibly is the home's protector spirit.

"It makes it tough to put the fox urine on him," Mudd said.

 

 

Perhaps the Saginaw Valley Historic Preservation Society would like to send a plane ticket for my Dad to fly up there - he'd be more than happy to take care of Grumpy for them.  Why, just yesteray he took care of the biggest groundhog ever captured at The Compound.  We sure hope that it was not a "protector spirit" over The Compound.  If it was, we're in big trouble.

Salsa, Anyone?

If you remember, last summer, Diva Stacy and I were in charge of the garden here at The Compound while the 'rents were on their annual trip to Canada.  We picked beans till we couldn't pick any more, and filled basket after basket with yellow squash, zucchini, cucumbers, tomatoes and other garden goodies. This year, the 'rents didn't get to go on their trip, so thank goodness the Divas weren't forced into migrant work in the garden.  But we did try our hand at canning this weekend.  And before I go any farther, let me say that it was a success. 

For the past two summers, we had what we like to call Salsa Fest, where we made - yes, you guessed it - salsa.  We made fresh salsa, and it was so good it was gone in a matter of days.  This year, we decided to can the salsa so Diva Stacy and her family could enjoy homemade salsa all year long.  My Mom has been canning salsa for years, and as I also mentioned last year, she uses Mrs. Wages salsa mix.  Just add tomatoes and vinegar and you're good to go.  So yesterday afternoon, Diva Stacy and I set up shop in her kitchen and commenced to peeling and chopping over 10 pounds of tomatoes.  First of all, for the record let me say that we still have all ten digits on our hands.  Secondly, everything went like clockwork. No major spills or accidents, nor did anything explode or break.  And by the end of the afternoon, proudly sitting on the counter top were four pints and one quart of beautiful, tastey homemade salsa.  Plus we also ended up with two quarts of fresh salsa in the fridge. All in all, it was yet another awesome Sunday afternoon with Diva Stacy.  And we were thankful that we did not have to pick all of those tomatoes.

Link Of The Week

Working in the wonderful world of customer service for a 'few' years taught me more than I could have ever learned in a business school classroom.  The main thing it taught me was to be a better customer.  I was more patient and considerate whenever I had to call a customer service representative about something.  Once again, the Golden Rule is the only way to go.  But getting through to an actual person so I could practice the Golden Rule was a challenge.  It's a universal problem we hear about all the time - people get frustrated and fed up with having to press number after number on the keypad of their phone to speak to an actul person. 

This week, I found a website that will help us get to an actual person when we make a call to a company.  Visit http://www.gethuman.com and you'll find a list of phone numbers to call, and more importantly, detailed instructions on what numbers to enter or what to do once your call goes through.  The database is awesome - you can check it ou alphabetically or by category - finance, internet, phone (telco), etc.  I was very surprised to find out that I could get through to an actual person at Google.

How Sweet It Is

I read an interesting quote a few weeks ago: "It's rough. It's been rough on that food. It's different eating here than it is at the house. Ain't got no sweet tea, and ain't got no fried chicken."  Boo Weekley, PGA golfer from Milton, Fla., interviewed by the BBC on Day 2 of the British Open, 7/20/2007.  I don't know much about golfer Boo Weekley, but I know that I like him, mainly because he loves sweet tea and fried chicken.

Sweet tea mania has spread from it's origin in the South to the rest of the country.  We can thank McDonalds for helping spread the sweet tea - this spring, they started serving it in about 3,000 restaurants.  Most restaurants in the South serve sweet tea, and in fact, if you order iced tea and don't specify unsweetened (ewwww) you'll automatically be given sweet tea.  Unless you're diabetic, I see nothing wrong with that.  Hot, flavored tea was the trendy drink until this summer, when sweet tea mania swept.

Legend has it that sweet tea was "invented" in the non-Southern city of St. Louis in 1904. The location was the World's Fair. An Indian tea merchant found himself unable to sell his product due to the sweltering summer heat. As a desperate act, he cooled his customers down by putting his tea on ice and adding sugar.  The rest is history.

My Grandma was not a tea drinker; in fact, she hated it.  But she still would make the best sweet tea that you ever drank.  She never tasted it when making it because she hated it, yet she made the best tea I've ever had.  I guess it was just a Southern Grandmother thing. 

I'm not sure if Elvis liked sweet tea, but I'm thinking that he did, since he was from the South. I bet he would have a glass of it with his peanut butter and banana sandwiches.  If he ever ate supper at a Po' Folks restaurant, I'm sure he would have had a Mason jar of sweet tea to wash down the pinto beans and fried chicken.  As a kid, that was the best part of eating at Po' Folks -- getting to drink out of a jar.  Now on special occasions (like when I haven't unloaded the dishwasher) Mom will serve our tea in pint jars.  With her being diabetic, she makes a pitcher of unsweetened tea, but wo do love our Splenda, and use a couple of packs to sweeten our tea. 

 

Flashback Friday

Flashback Friday disclaimer:  the following content might not be suitable for the male faithful readers, but I'm writing it anyway, just because I can.

When I was a little girl, I loved my paper dolls.  I would sit for hours playing with them. For that very reason, Mom and Grandma would always have at least one paper doll book stashed away , and would break it out whenever they needed me to be occupied for an afternoon.  I did some research this week, and found the history of paper dolls to be intriguing.

Paper dolls first appeared in Paris in the 18th century, during the reign of Louisv XV.  Early European paper dolls often depicted actors and actresses, and the dolls were used with toy stages.  The literary-minded kids enacted Shakespeare with their paper dolls.  At this time, the dolls had permanently printed costumes; the deprived children during this era would never know the disgust that us 20th century kids would experience when we tore the tabs off of the clothes.

In Pioneer America, paper dolls had more humble beginnings. Paper was a prized resource, and it was rarely "wasted" on toys. If children were lucky enough to get paper dolls, they treasured them between the pages of a book or in a carefully guarded box. This later changed with the invention of the mechanical grinding machines, which became a ready resource for pulp paper.  As paper became less of a luxury, paper dolls were mass produced on inexpensive cardboard. 

Until the development of chroma-lithography printing, paper dolls were colored by hand.  In America, Civil War widows often earned money by painting and decorating the printed paper dolls. An interesting fact about early printed doll clothes was that they did not include the aforementioned tabs for dressing the dolls.  Instead, children painstakingly attached the clothes with tiny drops of sealing wax.  They took great caution in gently pressing when they attached the clothes to the dolls, lest they would tear the paper doll like I often did when tearing it out of the paper doll book.

By the 19th century, children used small bits of cloth, lace, tissue paper and magazine pictures to make clothes for their paper dolls.  Teenage girls would earn spending money by selling such unique creations; some girls even financed their college education throught he sale of original paper dolls.  At the turn of the century, department stores discovered that paper dolls were the ideal fashion advertisement.  Specially designed dolls promoting gowns and new patterns appeared in ladies magazines like Good Housekeeping, Ladies Home Journal and McCalls. As time progressed, paper dolls soon began to depict real life celebrities such as Ava Gardner, Tyrone Power and Judy Garland.  The trend continued with movie, TV and book characters.  I'm sure if you look hard enough, parents today could find Hannah Montana paper dolls for their daughters. 

As I said, I loved my paper dolls, and if I was able to get the clothes out of the book without tearing the tabs off, I took meticulous care of them.  I kept them in cigar boxes that I would get from the little store down the street.  When I tore a tab, which was quite often, I would attempt to repair it with Scotch tape, but it just wasn't the same.  On occasion, I would trace the clothes onto drawing paper, and design my own clothes for the dolls. 

In preparation for this entry, I consulted a few faithful readers, and here's what one had to say about her paper dolls: 

My fave paper doll memory was that they were relatively inexpensive and I could usually con my mom into buying me some.  They were in the coloring book area I believe and it was fun picking them out.  You could hardly WAIT til you got home so you could start tearing them out of the book.  My mom would always say "slow down and take your time, do it nice".  Inevitably I would rip one or rip off a tab.  It was almost impossible to tear them out without it.  You always had a fave outfit too.  One really, really great one that was your fave.  Ahhhhh.......memories!!

Those Damned Kids

This week brought more distressing news from the war in Iraq.  It seems that the Pentagon has lost track of almost one-third of the weapons given to Iraqi security forces in 2004 and 2005.  You don't have to be a Department of Defense security expert to figure out that some of those weapons have fallen into the hands of insurgents fighting against U.S. troops in Iraq.  According to a report from the Government Accountability Office (if that isn't an oxymoron, I don't know what is), military officials don't know what happened to 190,000 weapons -- 110,000 AK-47 assault rifles and 80,000 pistols.

This isn't the first time the government has "lost track" of something of major importance.  Earlier this spring, a Congressional committee reported that $12 billion in cash was sent to Iraq between May of 2003 and June of 2004 for reconstruction, and they don't know where $8.8 billion is.  Apparently, almost 400 tons of cash was taken from the Federal Reserve in New York, stacked on wooden pallets and loaded into cargo planes that were flown into Baghdad.  There, the cash was literally handed out from the back of pick-up trucks.  I ask you - how do you lose almost 200,000 guns and $8.8 billion in cash?  Now, I'm the first to admit that I lose things all the time.  But I usually end up finding what I've lost, unlike our government. If they took the time to ask me, I could tell them what happened to all of the guns and cash -- those damned kids took them.

It's a running joke in our family when someone loses something, one of us will always say "Those damned kids took it."  Yes, I know there are no kids there at The Compound, but they get blamed, any way.  The story goes back to when my Grandmother went to the nursing home.  Shortly after she went there, a group of kids from a school came to visit the residents there.  A day or two later, Grandma lost something and it happened to be during one of her less lucid moments, so she deducted that a) those kids were there, b) she couldn't find what she was looking for, so c) those kids took it.  Only she told us those damned kids.  I have to honestly say, in the 94 and a half years of her life, that was probably only one of a handful of times that she cussed.  Perodically after that, whenever she couldn't find something, she still said those damned kids took it.  And those kids are still at it.  Why, just a few weeks ago on a Sunday morning, and I passed each other in the hallway as we were getting ready for church.  He couldn't find a pair of slacks.  I looked at him and said "Those damned kids" and he nodded his head in agreement.  Maybe they know where the guns and money are.

The Heat Wave Continues

The heatwave continues with no end in sight.  That's the same headline we've heard for almost two weeks now here in the ' Ville on the TV news and in the newspaper.  And it's true.  Yesterday's high of 101 broke the record set in 1930, and today's expected high of 102 will tie the record set back in 1932 during the Dust Bowl years.  Yes, I know it's August and we're to expect hot weather, but this is ridiculous.  This morning when I got up at 6:45, it was already 81 degrees according to the official back porch thermometer at The Compound. 

This weekend when we heard the forecast of triple-digit temperatures this week, we sprang into action.  Mom found a package of silver mylar wrapping paper and we cut and taped pieces of it over all of the windows on the side of the house that face west.  Until I witnessed the difference first hand, I was a skeptic.  I'd read online and heard people say they covered their windows to help keep the heat out, but I'd always thought that was what blinds were for.  Boy was I wrong.  You could tell a very noticable difference this weekend after we taped up the windows.  Monday evening when I pulled in the driveway, I stopped the car and laughed when I saw the windows taped up; it reminded me of how Elvis Presley used to have his Memphis Mafia tape up the windows in his hotel room so it would be dark so he could sleep during the day. 

Dad's done his part to help.  Last night when I came home from the VFW at about 9:30, he was sitting in the family room in the dark watching a baseball game on TV.  He also had the ceiling fan on, and he swore it made a noticable difference like out covered windows.  I'd have to calculate the energy and wattage from the bulb on the lamp on the coffee table, but I'd be willing to bet that it's not cranking out enough heat to warrant him sitting in the dark watching TV.  But if he thinks he's cooler, then I guess that's all that matters. 

 

P.S.  The temperature did hit 102 this afternoon.  Woohoo.

Another Email Survey

1. What was the highlight of your weekend?  Sunday evening at Diva Stacy's

2. How often do you get your hair cut? Every 5-6 weeks faithfully.

3. Can you drive a stick shift? No. I have no idea what to do with the clutch, nor when to do it. If an emergency arises and the only transportation is a stick shift car, I'll just piggy back you to the hospital or wherever you need to go.

4. If someone gave you $1,000 to spend on yourself, how would you spend it?  Buy a custom-made pair of cowboy boots, identical to the ones I had when I was a kid.

5. What are you most afraid of? Disappointing my parents or my best friend

6. Did you take a vacation this summer?  Nope - my big trip of 2007 was the infamous DLV2 in January.  Oh how it rocked.

7. What is your non-alcoholic beverage of choice? Iced tea, unsweetened.

8. What is your favorite kind of cereal? Any variety of Chex.

9. What color looks best on you? Do you wear it often? Slate blue.  I've been told it makes my eyes look piercing. I have a slate blue [low cut] shortsleeve sweater that I wear once every couple of weeks.  It's funny - when I wear it, the women compliment me on my eyes, and the men say "I like your sweater."

10. Have you ever been audited by the IRS?  No, thank goodness.  I don't have enough income to raise any suspiscion.

Top Ten Overused Words Or Phrases From The Weatherazzi During Our Heatwave

1.   Dog days

2.   Dehydration

3.   Hydrated

4.   No relief in sight

5.   Heat exhaustion

6.   Sweltering

7.   Heat index
 
8.   Dew point

9.   Heat advisory

10. Ozone action alert

Link Of The Week

I'm sure there's not too many people my age that didn't have at least one goldfish when they were little.  Most of us didn't have fancy aquariums - we just kept them in big glass bowls.  We usually didn't even have rocks or anything else in the bowl - just water.  And the 29 cent fish from Woolworth's didn't seem to mind.  This week, a friend sent me a link to a site that put my old school glass goldfish bowl to shame.  Believe it or not, there is a company that makes a toilet tank aquarium. Visit http://fishnflush.com and see for yourself that I am not making this up.  You've got to see it to believe it.

 

CSI: The Compound Update

                 

Thanks to our keen investigative work and the handiwork of The Compound SWAT team, I'm happy to report that two of the suspects have been apprehended and are in custody.  The suspects have been extradited to an undisclosed wooded area just across the bridge in southern Indiana where they are free to terrorize some unsuspecting Hoosier's garbage cans.

Flashback Friday

August came in with full force this week; it's been in the mid-90's all week, and next week they're calling for a few days over 100.  What a better way to cool off in this heat than to eat ice cream.  Unfortunately, at the grocery stores where I shop, they don't use the very cool (pun intended) heavy paper bags made just for cartons of ice cream. 

I've talked to a few people, and we all agree that they were called cool-pak bags. They were basically thick small paper bags, and the extra layers of paper helped keep the ice cream cool till you got it home and could put it in the freezer.  One of the people I talked with about the cool-pak bags is a friend of the family who worked in a grocery store back in the day.  She said that they were instructed to put only ice cream in the bags - not even boxes or bags of frozen foods - just ice cream.  She said that if shoppers would ask that she put their frozen foods in the cool-pak bags, she would do it, but she only would if the customers asked.  Yes, it was their store policy to put only ice cream in the sacred bags.

And sacred those cool-pak bags were. At home, we had a hall closet where we kept the grocery bags.  Note I didn't specify and say "paper bags" because back in the day, paper was all we had.  It was my job to fold and put the bags in their spots in the closet - the big bags went on one side, while the smaller sized bags went on a shelf.  The cold-pak bags had their own special spot on the closet.  And woe be unto me if I gragged a cold-pak bag and started to pack my lunch in it.  Grandma would empty the lunch out into a regular paper bag and put the cold-pak bag back in the closet.

CSI: The Compound

             

                                                                           

Dateline: The Compound, Thursday morning 7:20, August 2, 2007

The first photo depicts the crime scene.  Observe the garbage can overturned and the door closed on trap #1.  Note that there is nothing in trap #1.  The suspect ate/took the marshmellows left as bait.

The second photo is a close-up picture of trap #1.  You'll notice the gaping hole in the top of the trap that the suspect used to make his escape.

The third photo is of trap #2.  Observe that the doors are closed on trap #2.  Note that nothing is in trap #2.  The suspect ate/took the peanut butter sandwich left as bait, but left the peanuts. 

In both instances, the suspect set the traps, ate/took the bait, and managed to escape. It beats the hell out of us.

 

Drama At The Doctor's Office

Last Wednesday, my Mother had her annual mammogram, and also had a bone density test during the same visit.  On Thursday, her doctor's office called.  Here's a verbatim transcript of the phone call:

Doctor's office:  Puddin's Mom, your test results are back, and Dr. Edwards would like to see you next week.
My Mom: (who is assuming she has incurable breast cancer at this point) Could you tell me why she wants to see me? Did they find something in my mammogram?
Doctor's office: Your mammogram was fine, but your bone density tests came back with some spots. 
My Mom:  So why does the doctor want to see me?
Doctor's office: (Speaking with hesitancy in their voice) Puddin's Mom, I'm sorry to tell you that you have osteoporosis
My Mom: And?
Doctor's office:  You have osteo, Puddin's Mom
My Mom:  I know that.  I was diagnosed with osteo four years ago when Dr. Edwards had me take my first bone density test.
Doctor's office: Oh.

There was a little more exchange of banter, but I won't go into detail with it.  Suffice to say that Mom had to go to the doctor's office today.  Wait - I meant to say Mom had to pay for another office visit today - for them to tell her that she had osteoporosis; something that her doctor diagnosed four years ago.  Mom said they were acting like this was a big revalation or something.  The doctor did go on to tell Mom that her osteo had greatly improved since the last time she'd taken the bone density test.  As soon as she said that, Mom fired right back and said "Correct me if I'm wrong, but you have records that show I took a bone density test four years ago, and that was when I was diagnosed with osteo.  Today, you're telling me that I have osteo - like it's something I didn't already know.  What's up with that?"  She said her doctor fumbled with her files, and simply said "Whatever you're doing, keep on doing it." I have a feeling my Mom will be in the market for another doctor soon.