Tide pods, or what the hell do I do now?

I just saw something horrifying on the news!  You know the pretty little canisters that hold the Tide Soap Pods that I just toss in the washer and forget?  Well, I had one near catastrophe with them so far.  I tossed it into the washer part, it hit the spindle in the middle of the tub and ricocheted between the tub and the liner.  To the best of my knowledge it is probably disintegrated, or a least I hope so.  But worse then that, they are now going to make the canisters child proof!  Remember what I told you yesterday about that?  I thought I was safe in the laundry.  What kid actually wants to eat soap?  Apparently there are a lot of them out there!

Oh, when mine were young they ate soap a time or two before they learned acceptable language and the words I use are two entirely different things!  Now they did snack on the ex-lax once.  That was Debbie and Dorothy Renee.  I do not think either of them eats chocolate to this day.  As I recall, if there was something we did not want them to ingest we put it up very high and if we caught them near anything we had told them "no" to, there was a little thing called  "swat your hiney" that we played.  This was our idea of positive reinforcement.  We also knew how inquisitive the little bugger were so we used a tactic called "watching the kids."  No doubt we were infringing on thier privacy, but trust me here; a trip to the emergency room infringes on a lot of my rights.  So we did it.

There were other cruelties we did to them.  I liked to put them in "time out."  Time out usually meant that they would fall asleep and I could get a break.  Course since I ended up a single mother and child support enforcement at that time was a big joke, the kids were usually under the care of a "babysitter."  This was a person who was paid to come into my home and do the "watch the kids thing" while I worked.  I had a very lovely lady name Mrs. McIver who came daily and the kids loved her.  She read to them and took them for walks and all the things I never had time to do.  There was another lady who came when Mrs. McIver could not.  Her name was Ida Mae.  She was a very quiet lady and did her job of "watching" them.  This coupled with the fact that she had about 14 whiskers on her chin that were 5-9 inches long made them fear her.  She always brought them candy, but they never accepted it.  Could have been the ex-lax factor there.

Getting to the point here.  As an old lady with stiff fingers I am living in terror of what they are going to devise to keep me out of my Tide Pod container.  If they just secure the lid I think I can get the butcher knife and cut the top off and throw it away.  But if they make the container itself  heavier, I have to be careful.  I have scars from trying to chop away the heavy plastic and since my skin is getting thinner the kids are starting to hide my knives.  I think this is why old people end up in the nursing homes!  We are confronted on a daily basis with challenges on these damn child proof things.  So we don't use soap in the laundry, we don't take our pills, and even the bottle of milk sets on the shelf because we can not grab that tiny ring (assuming we know it is there and we can see it).

It is just easier to go to the nursing home and let them do it for us.  Then we get in there and find out they got the laundry mixed up and I now wear underwear that need to be held up with a safety pin and a bra that perches on the tips of my nipples.

I am telling you, this old age shit is for the birds!

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Yesterday, when I was young...

Do you remember that song that goes "Yesterday, when I was young, and the taste of life was sweet, like rain upon my tongue."?  I can hear it playing in my head, but the words do not jell any more.  This is like so many other things in my life that have gone awry. 

I remember when beer bottles had screw on caps and sometimes they were a little hard to grasp and that is why God gave us teeth; to open bottle caps!  Alas, those days are over and gone.  Well, actually, so are the teeth.  I think I used to have 32, but that number is slowly dwindling.  Granted, four of them were wisdom teeth which never fit anyway, but nonetheless, they were there.  Unfortunately the caps that were so easily removed with my super powerful jaws have now been replaced by caps devised by a mad scientist.  The first thing I need to do is read the "how to remove cap" instructions printed on the miniscule cap.  Well, the very first thing I have to do is find the magnifying glass so I can SEE the instructions.  Ok, here we go!

To remove cap grasp bottle firmly.  Push down on cap while twisting counterclockwise.  You may need to exert extra pressure.  Now, we are dealing with a prescription bottle with a cap that is maybe an inch across.  My fingers quit bending that far many years back, but I am game to try.  So I grasp the bottle firmly in my left hand.  I press my right hand onto the cap.  Everything is plastic and of course my hands are sweaty in anticipation of this chore.  Ok, push down and twist counterclockwise.  I am assuming the cap goes counterclockwise; not the bottle.  And in a perfect world, something would turn and something would open.  Hell, maybe I was supposed to turn myself counterclockwise.  So, I try again.  Once more with feeling!  So this time I grasp the bottle in my right hand with the cap in my left.  Counterclockwise should still be the same direction.  I recall life lessons that say "Lefty loosey, righty tighty."  Sounds great in theory.

By this time I have worked up a sweat and wonder if I really need these blood pressure pills open at all.  Surely some one will stop by later today and they will open them for me.  This leads me to remember all the things I need open, like the jar of pickles, the bottle of lavendar cleaner, and that bottle of aphid killer that I threw across the fence in total frustration.  What has my life become?  I can not even try to catch the rain on my tongue anymore, because I might catch pneumonia instead. 

And all this brings me to the crux of the matter.  I am getting old.  Not only are my fingers stiff and my teeth gone, even words take on new meaning.  Like colon is no longer a punctuation mark, it is now something inside me to be babied and cleansed on a regular basis.   Will no longer means determination, it is something I have to make and file with the court or when I go toes up the state of Colorado will be my beneficiary!  Friends and family are no longer just people to be cherished, they are to be feared and revered and do not tick them off or they will not come to my funeral.  (I do not want to be the only one there!)  Walker is no longer someone I meet on the path, it is what holds me up.  Depends is not an act you perform when counting on someone to do something, it is now a noun to replace "string bikini or thong."

And I could go on all day, but I can't because I want to make a cake and I have got to get that new bottle of vanilla open.  Think I will take it down to the Senior Center and make that our challenge for the day!  Please do not laugh at this because one of these days you are going to be wanting to taste the rain only to find that it is now acid rain and you want no part of that!

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Clara Bartholomew? Where are you?

I have been researching the family tree and I am now at my wit's end.  Dad's first wife was named Clara.  Apparently the had 5 children together.  Two of those did not survive to adult hood.  The three older boys were placed in an orphange.  Two of those were adopted.  I know what became of them.  The third one, who was the oldest walked away from a town in Northern Kansas or southern Nebraska and vanished into thin air.

But, Clara.  The last trace I have of her was the 1930 census.  At that time she was 26 years old and her oldest son was 8.  Poof!  If there is any of may family out there who knows anything, I would like to know what you know.  I am waiting for the 1940 census.  I know on it my mother will be married to my father and they will have 2 kids.  Josephine Walden (my half sister) and Delbert Leroy Bartholomew.  Delbert would later become known as "Jake".  I would be born in 1941 so would not show up yet.

This tells me that Clara was no  longer married to my father in 1936 since Jake was born in 1937.  I know when we were growing up and met the three older boys who were our half brothers that we asked questions and I am sure we were given answers, but I do not remember what they were. 

I know that Earl has three kids and Josephine used to stay in touch, but she is gone now.  Wish I had listened.  Richard wound up in Denver and he died many years back.  Gene was never adopted and I recall that he married and had a son.  He was declared legally dead an eon ago, but the son is still out there some where.  It just seems that the more I learn the more questions I have.

So, I am going to stick the family tree back on the shelf for a while and concentrate on getting back into a routine so I can keep this blog thing going.  But if you do happen to stumble on something that might help just contact me.

Watch dogs one; intruder zero!

The top picture shows Icarus the cat, Elvira the dog, and the black and white photo is Daisy.  Daisy is the oldest and the ring leader.  Icarus somehow has decided that she is a dog also, and last night proved her metal as a "watch dog."

We went out to close up the geese at our usual time.  For some reason the geese were on full alert.  When I opened the gate Daisy and Elvira tore off to the front gate.  As  they were raising Holy Cain, I hurried to see what was treed over there.  I was halfway to to front gate when three animals shot past me and I turned in time to see Icarus launch herself on something that had just flew by me. 

Lordy! Lordy!  All three of them had a big cat cornered in a corner by the tin shed and the garden fence.  I could see flashes of staggering vet bills for eyes being ripped out, so I ran for the deck knowing full well, three of those animals would follow me.  Luckily that plan worked and I immediately shut the gate, thus giving the intruder the opportunity to escape, which it took full advantage of very quickly.

The excitement being over, we continued to the goose house and our chores for the evening.  The animals were unpertubed by our little intruder and I think they quickly forgot.  I, however, have not.  It was such a treat to see my three little defenders protecting thier kingdom.  Some how I know that those little guys, will keep me safe from harm here on my farm.  Somehow it gives me a feeling of security to know that those three would be all over danger before I could even get my weapon off safety.  They are fearless!

So all you little worry warts out there that think I am helpless can relax.  It would take a complete lunatic to think I am at anyone's mercy.  I would hate to think how far anyone would advance into the room with a calico cat implanted on the top of thier head and anchored with razor sharp claws for added stability.  And how far can one walk with a dog latched on each ankle?  Oh, and nothing slows down a raging intruder like a gaping hole from a 45 slug!

I am in very good hands here and today I am going to make a fresh batch of treats for my little soldiers, but right now they are having a nap.  Been a long night.

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I about fainted in my Wheaties!

I had more faith in Burger King than this!  Fast Food = Wendy's or Carl Jr's

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2012/05/07/burger-king-manager-fired-hiv_n_1497718.html?icid=maing-grid7%7Chp-desktop%7Cdl15%7Csec3_lnk2%26pLid%3D158651

The mixed messages in my email box.

I opened the email when I got home from church.  Most of it goes into my spam folder and it is amazing that AOL can guess what I do not want, like certain body parts to grow, others to tighten up,  and some things I do not want to do all night long.  But there are still things that get through that they could discard and I would never miss, but then I would have nothing to read.

So first is that there is a man in my area wanting to meet me!  He is marriage minded, as am I.  (This I did not know!  I thought I was content with the single life!)   Seems he is going to be devestated and doomed to a life of loneliness if I don't click "show me more" right away.  That one was preceeded by a list of assisted living centers where I could be most happy and everything is on one level for my convenience.  Since I live in a four level home, that would definitely be worth looking into further.

I was pleased to know that I have fallen heir to over  $35,000,000 due to the passing of a dear distant cousin in the Ukraine.  I was surprised by that one, because I really do not remember the fellow and never knew that our family even knew where the Ukraine is located.  I know I have no idea.  But, nonetheless, I will gather all my information; social security number, birthday, bank account numbers, mother's maiden name, and the color of my first car and send it to this lawyer.  After a week or so, when I am sure he has received it, I will contact an attorney about how to invest all that money to give me the best tax break.

And there are the usual daily recipes that pop up every morning.  Some of them actually look good and I am sure all that fat, butter, white flour, and cream will help me live a long time to enjoy my aforementioned inheritance.

I do sell on eBay and there are limitless questions from potential buyers.  "What size cover do I need for my bird cage?"  "Do you ship to Arkansas?"  "Is your junk jewelry for 99 cents pure gold?"  "I see you have free shipping, can that be combined?"  I want you to know that I dearly love my eBay customers and gladly answer thier questions.  I have developed several lasting friendships through this media.

So for now I am off to answer my emails and save some poor lonely guy a life of misery.  Oh, yeah and dream about my newly found fortune.  Have a good one.

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Lunch with friends, I think.

Well, here we are.  On the left is Frank and Shelly, his daughter.  On the right is Ron and Cliff.  I had crossed paths with Ron and Cliff a few weeks back and we decided, since we could not remember when we did it last, that a lunch date was in order.

See, many years ago, in a land that time forgot, Kenneth and I had worked with Frank, Cliff, and Shelly who have an excavation and demolition business called Colorado Dirt Contractors.  I think that was back in 1982.  Frank's mom and dad were wonderful people and for a while we all attended the same church; Temple Baptist on Thatcher Avenue.  I rented my home on Scranton from Frank, via his mother.  I loved that little house. But, I digress.

The date was set for our outing and we agreed to meet at Papa Jose's at noon on Friday.  Of course I arrived first, being the anal retentive that I am.  I was amazed to see that none of these people had aged.  Shelly tried to tell me she had, but I was not buying that.   I was taken aback to learn that her "baby" was 24 years old.  I do not know how that happened.  I knew Frank's dad had passed many years ago, but I was saddened to learn his mom was in a nursing home.  Last I knew she was still canning tomatoes in the back yard with all her daughter-in-laws.

As we all set there it was apparent that they all were on thier lunch hour from work, so I asked the question that was foremost in our minds.  "Hey guys, remember when we were all together and we talked about how we would retire when we were 55 or 60?  What happened with that?"  Blank looks, everyone.

Then Frank said, "Well, we don't work very much.  Just now and then.  Mostly we set around and try to remember people's names, or something we did and wait for lunch time.  Like, 'Remember Kenny Mercer?  What was his wife's name?'"  We all laughed at that. 

I told them the last time I had seen Gene, another acquaintence of bygone days,  he invited me to a barbeque and I told him to have his wife call me.  That was right after Kenny passed.  Still waiting for a call on that one. 

Then we tried to remember the last time we had gotten together and found that one eluded us.  I told them I had written a book and was going to have it published.  Some one asked what it was about, but I could not remember.  I asked about the wives and confessed that I probably would not recognize them if I saw them.

We discussed a former nemisis, recalled the junk equipment we had started out with and decided they had come full circle, once more tried to remember when we had last had lunch together and vowed to do this again very soon.  As we said goodbye in the parking lot and tried to find our respective vehicles, I could not help but laugh.  Here we are, a bunch of over the hill (Shelly excepted) friends who are still capable of being friends, and if they are like me, thinking of each other on a regular basis, but not bothering to do anything about it and then when we do, being very happy that it had happened. 

I have known these guys since I moved to Colorado.  Frank since 1979 and Cliff shortly thereafter.  That is well over 30 years.  Never had a disagreement with either of them.  Like their wives, care about their kids and in-laws.  Just never bother to keep in touch.  Is that the mark of an enduring friendship, or what?  I think so.

The last thing Cliff said was "Hey, Lou!  Let us know about that barbeque."  I stopped in my tracks, dumbfounded.  What was that all about?  And then I remembered about Gene and realized that maybe we were not as forgetful as we thought we were, or at least Cliff was not! 

So, guys, I look forward to our next meeting, when ever and where ever it may be!  My regards to the family!

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Spring time means baby geese on the ditch by my house!

Well, I almost wrecked the car on the way to town a couple days ago.  I knew there was a pair of Canadian Geese hanging out on the ditch, but I did not know they had already hatched the babies.  I counted and there were 7 or 8 of them, but those little suckers are fast.  When I stopped mother and babies were in the water and father was up on the topside.  He immediately jumped into the water and headed them upstream.  Guess he thought I might eat them.

Now at my house, I am staying up on the birth control thing.  Goose lays an egg, I grab it, run in the house and blow out the contents.  No babies here on the farm!  No, siree!  Now Diane at church also has a farm over by Penrose where geese and other fowl abound.  She has offered to give me some of her flock since I have no babies, but I have a better idea.  I would like to give her my flock and she can keep hers.  Granted they do a fantastic job of keeping the weeds down out back, but then so does Round Up.  And a bottle of sterilant costs about the same price as 2 week supply of goose food.

And then there is the grasshopper control factor.  Grasshopper would have to be completely insane to land on my little acre!  Oh, and when someone tells you that geese eat stickers, you can say with all certainty that is false.  They will eat the stickers if I pull them when they are young and hold them in my hand for them.  I have started tilling small areas and planting Rye which should mingle with the stickers and the geese will eat the Rye and trample the stickers.  At least I hope so.

The Apricot and green apple trees are loaded.  Now I eat neither of these things, so they become ready goose food.  I will plant 5 or 6 Zucchini plants and let the Zucchini get big and chop it up.  Well, I do not actually let them get big, they just seem to do that on their own!

So, things are going along right on schedule here in the Rockie Mountains.  Well, not really.  I planted 6 tomato plants and two packages of tomato seeds yesterday.  Also some potatoes that were already growing in my potatoe  bin.  Then the man on television told me, "Don't get excited and plant stuff just yet.  Looks like we may get a freeze next week."  Damn!  But you and I both know that 2 feet of snow next week is not out of reason for this area.  Would not be the first time, but there is always the possibility I can pull it off and have the first tomato of the season.

Spring time in the Rockies!!  I love it.