The Lesson

Two young brothers, ages 5 and 7, were excessively mischievous. They were always getting into trouble and their parents knew all about it. If any mischief occurred in their town, the two boys were probably involved.

The boys' mother heard that a preacher in town had been successful in disciplining children, so she asked if he would speak with her boys. The preacher agreed, but he asked to see them individually. So the mother sent the 5 year old in first, in the morning, while the older brother would see him later in the afternoon.

The preacher, a huge man with a booming voice, sat the younger boy down and asked him sternly, "Do you know where God is, son?" The boy's mouth dropped open, but he made no response, sitting there wide-eyed with his mouth hanging open.

So the preacher repeated the question in an even sterner tone, "Where is God?"

Again, the boy made no attempt to answer. The preacher raised his voice even more and shook his finger in the boy's face and bellowed, "Where is God?"

The boy screamed and bolted from the room, ran directly home and dove into his closet, slamming the door behind him.

When his older brother found him in the closet, he asked, "What happened?"

The younger brother, gasping for breath, replied, "We are in BIG trouble this time,"

(I just LOVE reading this next line again and again:)

"GOD is missing, and they think we did it!"

I Long to Move South

February has been an un-wanted visitor this year, dumping it's snow, ice, fog, and freezing weather on us. March is about to greet us with it's unknown weather for thirty-one long days. It has always seemed like March is the Marathon month of the year because there are no breaks in the action, except for the Royal High Holiday of St. Patrick's day. Teachers, students but not necessarily parents, long for a snow day or a fog delay just for a little variety. It is time to look forward to Spring break, which around here, is the week prior to Easter. What do most of us want to do during a break? Get away!

Personally, I think I'm past wanting to go south for a just week in April for a mere visit ~ to get some warmth and sunshine and spring board diving practice in like I'm in the Olympics...I need more! I need to move there! I want to play golf 250 days a year...or take a walk with only needing an extra sweater around my neck instead of 35 scarves. I'd love to learn how to sail ~ or maybe become the world's finest fisherwoman (Uh, I've only gone fishing once in 1972 ~ at a very small pond, catching a monster 4" fish).

Do you think that people who live in the sunshine state yearn to "get away"? Do you think they dream of coming up north to get windburn and bronchial pneumonia?

I Don't think so!

So, I'm contemplating moving...yep. What's keeping me here?

I would miss just a few things ~ like going to opening day at The Cone just down the street, for ice cream with the kids. I wouldn't be able to watch six year-old Griffin harrass every kid there to play with him on the 50 cent mechanical Ice Cream truck...or observe two year-old Cooper do the "ice cream dance" when his Mom pulls the car into the parking lot ~ and this year Parker will be old enough to cry when Griffin tries to steal a bite of her snow cone.

Then there is the local swimming pool. If I moved, I would miss awakening (much too early) to take Griffin to swim lessons at 7:30 a.m. ~
I wouldn't be here to feel the pain of Grif trying to learn the Australian crawl in 60 degree water, then running to me to get wrapped up in his Spiderman towel while asking me what succulent surprise I had brought him for his snack. I would miss it when he looked up at me and yelled, "Awesome!" when he saw that I packed his favorite "pretzel sticks with cheese dip".
Hmmm..now this year Cooper is old enough for me to see how his Mom will show him how to float...and it will be Parker's first exposure to chlorine and sun tan lotion.

If I lived down south, I wouldn't witness 14 year old Connor coming for a visit and attempting to beat me, his cousin, Uncle and Aunt at Miniature golf...and him trying to protect Griffin from bullies at the swimming pool who try to steal a water toy.

I would miss the family cook-outs when Sean tries to create a new cuisine-burger made from un-edible ingredients, and then attempt to beat me, witout success, at the basketball skill game of "horse"...

I wouldn't be here to see Annie dress Parker in her first sun-suit and matching sun-bonnet (Parker, that is...Annie doesn't look that good in a sun bonnet).

Let's see...maybe a quick week in Florida at spring break will be just long enough away from here after all.

Class is in Session

A friend of mine recently gave birth to her third child. What a wonderful blessing to have three, healthy wee ones rounding out the family. I saw Mama Nikki about five months ago at her sister's wedding and she was uncomfortable with her added girth then. I can only imagine how whe felt during those last 21 weeks of "feathering the nest".

Now comes the lesson part ~ I ran across an interesting fact about pregnancies. Most of us think that the longest gestation period in the animal kingdom is that of an elephant ~ carrying her baby 22-24 months.

Wow. TWO years of of her moaning to her bull elephant hubby about her aching back. I wonder how HE reacts when HER hormones start raging? Does she have unusual food cravings and her spouse has to go out in the middle of the night to bring home some pickles with the bananas and mangos?

Well, I learned that there is a creature that God created that carries her young
38 Months ~ the Alpine Salamander of Southern Europe.

Can you fathom the idea of being the person who studies this species?
"What is your profession, madam?" ~
"I am a Alpine Salamander gestation observer."

Did our observer possibly discover cravings and hormonal imbalances with Mrs. A-S?
How does one know when an Alpine Salamander is pregnant?
Can she still crawl on her belly?
Does she lay on it's side for 2 and 1/2 years?

I can't imagine the male partner would be hanging around, massaging the little feet of our Mama. THAT might be a record ~ having any male stick around for that long, supporting a demanding pregnant species of ANY kind.

Whom do I call to find this A-S gestation observer?
I looked in the phone book and there was no listing.

Hmm...I'll bet Nikki AND her husband are glad that they are neither elephants NOR Alpine Salamanders.

Class dismissed.

Britney's motivations revealed!

I know why Britney shaved her dyed golden locks ~

She didn't want to get them tangled in the revolving doors of the rehab clinic.

You heard it here first.

Memories..Like the corners of my...I Can't Remember

Have you ever had one of those days? You know what I mean. You try to accomplish 120 things at once and then you can't find your eyeglasses until you look in the refrigerator...
Well, a friend of mine sent a cute little joke for your reading pleasure. Now if I could just remember where I filed it....

Two elderly ladies had been friends for many decades. Over the years, they had shared all kinds of activities and adventures. Lately, their activities had been limited to meeting a few times a week to play cards. One day, they were playing cards
when one looked at the other and said, "Now don't get mad at me.I know we've been friends for a long time, but I just can't think of your name! I've thought and thought, but I can't remember it. Please tell me what your name is."

Her friend glared at her. For at least three minutes she just stared and glared at her.

Finally she said, "How soon do you need to know?"


Thanks to Barb Nielsen in Ft. Myers, Florida for that one. (Ever since Barb moved to the OLD state, she has been sending me these "elderly" jokes)

Bald is Beautiful

Today I read that Britney Spears has shaved her head and added a tattoo to her body. I, personally would probably do neither of those things in a conscious, or altered state. Maybe Brit's hair got in her eyes too much and that's why she's been having trouble safely caring for her children. Possibly the heavy tresses on her dome caused her to make poor judgments in choosing a husband.

I worry that she now could catch a cold more easily and have the need for prescription medication.
To be fair, she could have felt that the need to trim her hair care budget. I'm thinking her ex-husband must be asking for a Brit-load of alimony.

A bald head would certainly save some coin because there is no need for a special hair shampoo, rinse, conditioner, gel, blow dryer, sprays and color. She can even sell her combs, brushes and shorn locks on e-bay and consider hiring more nannies.

I wonder if there is some kind of a trade-off, though...would a bald head need some kind of special care? Maybe she has to buy an expensive razor to keep the 5 o'clock shadow to a minimum. During photo-shoots and concerts, she may incur an additional cost of buying and wearing special, costly make-up and powder to avoid a blinding reflection that might injure a fan or photographer ~ and then there would be the law suits...NOW we're getting into talking serious money here...

OK, where was I? Oh, now let's go back to saving B.S. some $$$ ~ one alternative is for her to wear fancy-smancy designer scarves and head-wear to avoid that bald-reflection law suit. But wouldn't that put her right back in a financial conundrum, having to spend a "record" amount of money on that famous head of hers?

It's none of my business but I must say I'm a little concerned about her ~ how about if I look at the carton of winter hats and scarves that were going to be donated to the homeless and maybe be re-route a few things to the obviously (delirious) much-in-need-of-something Britney.

Now, about the tattoo...oh, never mind.

Valentines Day

I'm a little nervous about this day of celebrating love. Maybe it is the echo of the historical event, The Valentine's Day Massacre.
Maybe it's the fact that we look to cupid as the mascot of the day. Here is a child carrying a weapon and wearing nothing but a speedo, shooting at people's hearts. He certainly wouldn't be welcome swooping in to visit any public arena, including a school or library.

Can you imagine shopping at the local grocery store and there you are in the canned peas aisle and you look up to see naked boy with a bow and arrow aimed at you? Would you be thinking "aw, isn't that sweet?" or would you be calling security?

I can see a bunch of guys enjoying an adult beverage or two at the Cincinnati Bengals football game and instead of the hot dog vendor hiking up and down the stands, there is this kid streaking by with a stick that could put your eye out.
Well, come to think of it, in that venu maybe no one would take much notice.

If that same cupid-boy came to my front door and was about to "Draw back his bow..and let his arrow go..." I would be dialing 911 and as soon as lover-boy was hand-cuffed, I would be buying a arrow-proof vest off the internet, because I would be too scared to leave my house.

Sigh...maybe my romantic days are gone along with my dark brown hair.
You can keep most kinds of flowers away from me ~ they remind me of a funeral home. Chocolate isn't good for my svelte figure (one can dream, right?) and if I receive a mushy card, I suspect that someone wants something from me.

I agree with my niece, Annie-belle, who thinks the world would be a better place when people treat people with love all year long. One day in 365 of spreading love is a little silly.

Wait a minute, the phone is ringing.

Ahem. I have an addendum to write here. Great nephew Griffin just called and asked me to come over for Valentine's Day ~ then punctuated the call with "I love you". Then as I was hanging up the phone, a (cute) delivery man handed me the most gorgeous roses that I have even seen (and they don't smell like "you know what") ~ from my nephew Brian.

I'd like to say just one thing ~
I love Valentine's Day ~ even if it IS only one day.
That's a start.

With this Winter Snow & Ice...think Golf!

Here are some great not-so-famous quotes from very famous people.
I like thinking of golf when it is -5 degrees ~ it gives me hope!

1.If you are going to throw a club, it is important
to throw it ahead of you, down the fairway, so
you don't have to waste energy going back to
pick it up. ~ Tommy Bolt


2. Man blames fate for all other accidents, but
feels personally responsible when he makes a
hole-in-one. ~ Bishop Sheen


3. I don't say my golf game is bad, but if I grew
tomatoes they'd come up sliced. ~ Arnold Palmer


4. The only time my prayers are never answered is
playing golf. ~ Billy Graham


5. If you think it's hard to meet new people, try
picking up the wrong golf ball. ~ Jack Lemmon

6. It's good sportsmanship to not pick up lost golf
balls while they are still rolling. ~ Mark Twain

This May Make You Feel a Little "Flush"

Oh, dear Gussie! I read a headline on CNN's website about "Talking Urinal Cakes"...and I thought baked goods had made their way to the men's rooms. It appears that some creative wizard has come up with a great idea to either entertain, annoy, inform or embarrass men while they "see a man about a horse".
As I continued to read about these "talking urinals", I was picturing two urinals side by side, telling each other knock-knock jokes. I think way too literally.

Here's an article from newlaunch.com that I found on the world wide web that describes this invention ~

"Now it won't be possible for a man to pee in peace, as urinals across the country will be equipped to broadcast public messages. Urinals have been fitted with the Wizmark Urinal Communicator, a waterproof, disposable drain cover embedded with electronics that senses a visitor and then relays an audio message. The proximity sensor detects someone approaching within about 30 to 60 centimeters. A few seconds later, the detection lights flash, and a pre-recorded audio announcement starts playing. The device has a nine-centimeter diameter display area containing a lenticular screen that features multiple images or text that, and as the person moves toward the urinal, they appear to change from one graphic to the other.
Dr Richard Deutsch, its inventor, said the device can be programmed to play anything from beer commercials to public service announcements promoting responsible drinking, and has been designed to fit over the drain of standard-sized urinals. It also acts as a deodoriser with a disinfectant base, he said. Safety officials in Nassau County, New York, have already acquired 100 copies of the Wizmark, funded by fines from those caught driving while intoxicated."

Whew! Can you imagine a guy wobbling into a urinal after he's been partying and downing a few brewkies ~ and in "mid-stream" he hears a voice that he thinks in his fuzzy state, may be GOD, advising him that he needs to sober up before driving?
How fast do you think he would be ordering coffee to replace the "long island iced teas"?

I imagine Churches would be a good advertiser for this particular invention.

This topic has left me a bit "drained"...and just a bit nervous about what inventors will think of next to surprise the public in private situations!

Bambi Needs to "Pack Heat"

I had to take my dog, Bailey, to see the Veterinarian today. Bailey was really sick but I just knew that he would be OK once he saw Dr. Rob. I love this Vet. He is kind, caring and good-looking to boot! The office environment is a reflection of these qualities as each member of his staff is friendly, helpful and most efficient.
Due to the nature of Bailey's illness, I just drove over to the animal hospital without calling for an appointment as it is only five minutes away.

As I waited for the assistant to check on the availability of the vet, I tried to calm my nerves by thumbing through a magazine. Bailey was in my arms, shaking so hard that I thought his eyebrows would fall off.

The first magazine that I grabbed had some kind of Field and Stream theme going on and on the front cover, in LARGE TYPE, a headline SCREAMED, "12 Ways to Get Your Buck" and they were not referring to a denomination of money. They were showing hunters how to kill a deer!

All of a sudden, I didn't feel so comfortable in my vet's office. How could he purport that he cares for sick animals but then buys a magazine that is available in the lobby that outlines details on how to kill them?
That makes no sense to me.

I've never understood the "sport" of killing an animal. A person armed with a rifle or bow and arrow, stalks an un-armed animal that is just hangin' out, having a nice walk around God's world and WAMMO! The hunter springs out of his hiding place to take a shot in an open field to end this creature's life.
Wow. That is so cool. And the idiot who shot him is so proud of himself that he hangs the head of the victim up in his den for all to see.
I wonder if he has any pictures of his family that hang that large for admiration? Or does he just "honor" a dead defenseless deer?

Maybe if the deer was also armed with a shotgun it would be more fair. Oh, the pity.

Dr. Rob was in surgery and couldn't see Bailey so we had another vet examine him. Tomorrow I have to take Bailey back for more tests.
I hope I don't see any camaouflage jackets hanging on the coat rack.

Maybe I should be looking at the reading materials at my own family Doctor's office. If I see a funeral home directory, I'll be switching Doctors.

Here's the "Scoop"

The silliest item in my kitchen is an ice cream scoop.
I don't mean silly, like I fall down laughing when I retrieve it from the drawer that I can barely open because it has so much STUFF ~ I mean silly in that an ice cream scoop is an un-needed utensil.
I have about 78 ultra-strong spoons and almost any of them could do double-duty as an ice cream scoop. Run hot water on it and it does the job. If you have a really frozen container, then just employ the "nuke for 20 seconds" method and the ice cream is perfect for easy-serving.
My spoon method actually gives me the exact size portion of ice cream that I want, as I can choose a teaspoon ("fat" chance), a tablespoon, or a serving spoon (for the giganda appetite when 6 year old Griffin is being served). Of course, there is a friend of mine who just eats right out of the carton...I guess that's another way of dodging the "scoop" debate.
Two someones who will remain nameless, (Annie & Sean Michael Murphy) broke not one, but TWO ice cream scoops of mine...the second one had that little metal flippy-thing on it which apparently was rendered useless when my microwaving of the ice cream idea was ignored. There was much wailing and gnashing of teeth over this minor catastophy...(if a catastrophy be minor) Of course, I ran right out and looked for a replacement. I went into the Kitchen Is Us store and couldn't believe the huge selection of scoops that I had! They had all sizes, shapes and even electric ones!
The person who buys THAT has to be one serious ice cream eater and I hope is not lactose intolerant!
All I wanted was a simple scoop ~ and I finally found a cute pretty pink one that set me back $12.95.
Any one of my 25 cent spoons could be it's substitute and I would bet not one person would notice ~ NOR refuse to eat that ice cream.

Maybe I should run a double-blind test on this experiment.
Any volunteers for participation?

Slow News Day?

Bacteria Make Female Butterflies Promiscuous, Scientists Say
The germs can turn males to females and cause infected females to reproduce without males.

This was one of the top stories that CNN posted on their web site.

Maybe there IS a portion of our society that will celebrate this fact, what do you think?

I feel so well informed now.

Is Work REALLY a Four Letter Word?

I can still hear my Mother teasing my Dad by repeating the saying, "A man may work from sun to sun, but a woman's work is never done."
I've heard people use the word, WORK, to describe enjoyment (a work of art), frustration (a toy that took twelve hours of work to assemble), therapy (let's work our problems out)and obviously, the almighty paycheck (I got a raise at work).
But the other day I was startled to see the word "WORK" used in the following health questionnaire at a Doctor's office:

How may hours do you work a week? WORK as defined as tasks which, given the choice, you would rather not do...this would include ~ childcare, housework, studying, etc.

Is any of that offensive to you or am I just off base here?
I am wondering how well-adjusted the author of that form is?

Maybe there should be more replacement titles for the following popular books ~

"Joy of Cooking" replace with "Bitch While Baking"

"The Happy Housecleaner" replace with "The Depression of Dusting"

"The Love and Caring of Children" replace with "Down with Diapers, Up with Birth-control"..(or "He'll Never Touch Me Again")

"Laundry Made Easy" replace with "I'm Tired of Tide and Finished with Fabreeze"

"Studying Made Simple" replace with "Grades are Over-rated"

"I Love My Job" replace with "Laziness is Under-rated"

I guess I am over-reacting to a simple question on a piece of paper but if people are really thinking of work as something they would rather not do, then there needs to be an attitude adjustment.
Am I right here? If not, I've gone to all this friggin' WORK here in vane..for nothing! Nada!
Then I'll be really depressed and have to go back to that Doctor's office.
I think I need more time to JOYOUSLY WORK this out in my mind.

MKIA and Other “Professional” Designations

I salute people who have pursued extended education in a specific field of study. I would rather have my taxes done by a CPA than by my landscaper who says he is “really good at math”. When I am sick, I search for a Doctor who knows how to diagnose my problem and write a legible prescription. But I think some of these designations are being distributed like car-wash flyers. Take the insurance industry (Please) ~ I took 10 courses to achieve a CLU designation. After obtaining this dubious honor, I found that the studies really didn't help me accomplish my job duties any better but it showed my clients that I had a commitment to my career. At least, that’s what my boss said when convincing me to pursue this purported sought-after designation. However, if I were to ask 100 people what CLU stood for, the only ones who would know would be others in the insurance industry and some of THEM wouldn’t have a CLU-E. As a matter of fact, there are over 30 designations that are available just within the insurance industry, including, CFP, RHM, LUTCF, FLMI, CHFC. Run these by your insurance agent and see if he/she owns any of them or at least KNOWS what any of them mean.
There is an online degree program from Belford University that sells degrees from $379 - $779. I could get a Masters degree for $479 by providing my “life experience” information. Oh, but if I don’t have any “life experience” info, I can take an online equivalency test. Wow. There are similar web sites available to obtain a minister’s license. A friend of mine actually became a reverend in 5 minutes (and $35) and used it to legally preside over the nuptials of her daughter and fiancé/groom in Florida.
Maybe we should just create our own titles. One that I think applies to most of the Murphy family members, including the younger ones, is MKIA ~ Ms (or Mr.) Know-It-All. A friend of mine is a PhD and college professor. She was recently lamenting the fact that her college students did not know the meaning of a particular word. It just so happened that I had no idea what the word meant either! Do you think that I would ask her after what she said about her scholars? Heck no…but I thought I would show HER, so I said, “Well, that seems polysigrievious, doesn’t it? She barely hesitated and replied, “Of course!” The word “polysigrievious” is a word that I made up for a speech class assignment in college. But my MKIA friend wouldn’t dare ask me the meaning!
My nephew Sean recently emailed me a link to a web site that pays a person $3.00 for every TIP that would be displayed on their web page. Heck, they will go bankrupt by paying me, Peg Murphy, MKIA, for all my usable hints about house-cleaning, restaurant tipping, event parking, laundry, pest control and life in general. When I order my next set of business cards, I think I will print, MKIA behind my name. I wonder how many will actually ask me what it means or will they pretend to know?
The real designation should be for the parents of children ~ maybe the Mom with six kids and a husband who pays more attention to the TV than to burping the baby should have three letters behind her name: SIT (Saint in Training).
I think I’ll create a designation for myself.
Peg Murphy, CRAP ~ (Can you figure it out?)
Certified Right About Pretty-much-all-things

How Can I Get Bankruptcy Insurance?

Some people ask me why I left a lucrative career in the Insurance industry. Today I have the perfect example as to why I ran, not walked away.
I will be 56 on Monday. An early birthday "surprise" came in the form of an increase in my health insurance premium. Since I am self-employed, I have an individual policy that I pay for every month. For those of you who work for an employer who provides benefits of any kind, consider yourself blessed.
I have a $2,000 deductible and $25. co-pay for Doctor's office visits. I must spend the full $2000 in health care before I get any prescription drug benefit and then I pay $25 per prescription.
I have NO dental, vision or chiropractic benefit.
In August on 2004, my health insurance premium was $316/month = $3772/yr.
Today my renewal bill is $781/MONTH = $8,372/yr.
If this continues to increase at this rate, in 4 more years I will be spending $35,000/yr on my health insurance.

Right now I am thumbing through the policy to see if it has ANY mental health coverage because I'm about to need counseling big time.

The WHO (World Health Organization) completed a study in 2000 that compared 191 countries in the area of health. The United States is the biggest spender in health care (allocating over 20% of GDP, compared to other countries at 8-10% GDP).
Unfortunately, out of 191 countries the US ranked 31 overall and last in the 17 industrialized nations, including Ireland, Spain and France.
I have trouble even naming 31 other countries!
Guess which country has the honor of boasting the longest life expectancy? We bow to Japan ~ 74.5 years (WHO 2000 report)
United States? We ranked 24th @ 70 years. (based on those born in 1999)

I actually feel so good after venting my frustration that I'm going to cancel my annual mammogram, pap smear and colonoscopy and if I took valium, that prescription would not need to be renewed.

If anyone wants to know what I want for my birthday, it's a promise to vote in the next election for someone who can do SOMETHING about this embarrassment.
Or, money is always a welcomed gift too.

I have officially stepped down from my TIDE soap box now. Where's the Irish whiskey?

Kiss My Grits

Is it a coincidence that the very foods that I find un-appealing have disgusting names? BEETS. Beets sounds like a food item that wants to throttle me? GRITS. Ugh. Now THAT sounds like I’m going to swallow a grime pie. CHUTNEY might be left-over snacks from the squirrel gathering? CABBAGE sounds like garbage if said by a person from Boston. (Yum) STEWED PORK HOCKS. Not only do I not want to digest “hocks”, which I can only associate with baseball players and their nervous habits, but inebriated hocks are way off my menu. Heck, I even have a problem with DEVIL’S FOOD CAKE or DEVILED EGGS. I visualize a pitchfork rising up as I approach either of those food items. RATATOUILLE makes me stutter when I even attempt to pronounce it so why would I want to eat it? RUTABEGA sounds like I forgot my wallet. I won’t even look at a SMELT, whatever that it. Because I like to be neat and tidy, it took me a long while to even take a nibble of a SLOPPY JOE. I wonder who invented that meal and would I want to even see his kitchen? I am a canine lover so HOT DOGS are strictly prohibited. NUTS and PEAS are not my favorite either. Maybe I think way too literally.
Now, on the other hand, I would swim in BEARNAISE sauce or at least, drip it on almost any other food choice, including my cereal. Who wouldn’t enjoy RELISH and HONEY (no, not together!) ANGEL FOOD CAKE and CHIFFON PIE are desserts that must float off the plate and carry no calories. DUMPLINGS are to live for and CANAPES are succulent while FRITTERS are fantastic. SWEETBREADS seem to be the exception to this food moniker hang-up I have.
Now it seems that I have developed a bit of an appetite. What will I have to eat? Problem ~ it seems that I have painted myself in a food court corner with my pickiness based upon the names of foods. Solution ~ I will visit a SMORAGSBORD without wearing my glasses and enjoy whatever! (well, maybe not PICKLED PIG’S FEET)

Agony of De-FEET

I have been blessed with a large walk-in closet. It's absurd to see the amount of clothes and shoes that I own but never wear. It seems that I keep reverting back to wearing the same old comfortable turtleneck, sweater, corduroys and moccasins. Since I work at a desk located in my own home, I don't have to break out the stiletto heels and dry-cleanable suits and satin blouses. (Thank you, Lord!)

Recently I decided that I needed to review my footwear inventory and perform a spring cleaning (in the middle of January).
I made one huge mistake.
I counted.
A woman should NEVER EVER count her shoes. I have this adding machine in my head that turns on automatically and calculates what I have spent.

Let's review:
Four pairs of western boots that I will only wear to a costume party. It seems that each of my three trips to a western town and one yahoo of a rodeo visit inspired me to think that I should give the memory of Annie Oakley a run for her six-shooters. I have four hats to match, of course.
I own eight pairs of spiked golf shoes. When I say "spiked", I don't mean someone has snuck vodka in the souls, I mean they have spikes on the bottom of them. Golfers haven't been allowed to wear spikes in their shoes for 15 years because they tear up the greens. They have replaced the spikes with useless nubbins now on the soul of their shoes, which is no fun. They don't create the snappy clicking sound that you hear when you are looking for your errant golf ball on the neighboring fairway's cart-path.

Of course, I have kept twelve pair of high heels from my past life associated with the insurance industry and just looking at these mini-torture chambers makes my toes curl...literally.

One would think that one would throw out their tap dancing and ballet shoes...especially if they are size 4 and "one" in now size 8 but not me!

As I continued surveying the "shoe corral", I found seven pair of winter boots, including my first pair of "desert boots" given to me by my college roommate in 1973. That year we gave each other the same present without knowing it. (The pair Lynne gave me were of a much nicer quality than the ones I gave her, darn it!)
I even discovered that I had two pair of saddle shoes left over from 1964!

Add these to my every-day rotation of five pair of tennis shoes (I haven't played tennis in 27 years but it sounds better than "grocery-shopping shoes") and six pair of clogs, three mismatched shoes of some kind or another, four sets of slippers, and nine pair of sandals (most that need repair), there is enough footwear to stock four Consignment Shops.

I should NEVER have counted. My calculations showed that I was harboring nearly sixty pair of shoes at a value that approached close to $2,328.34.

So, what do you think I did? Any sane, normal person would throw the fool things out or certainly donate them to a worthy cause.
Not me.

I stuffed them all back in the closet and quickly closed the door before they filed out in protest of poor living conditions.
I think I'll wait until tomorrow to tackle my sock drawers.

Stupid Pet Tricks

I'm sure that you have heard of David Letterman's Stupid Pet Tricks (SPT) ~ where Fido can carry a beer can to the waste basket on command and Sparky can pick up the phone receiver when it rings and Billie-bunny rabbit can ride a skate board.
Well, when I was a small lass (not Lassie) we, too, had a dog that could have qualified to earn the nominal $50.00 for 15 minutes of canine fame. When we first got our tiny French poodle puppy named Fluffy, my 6'1" Dad would get down on the floor and the puppy would lick his earlobes. Pop thought this was such a cute trick that once, when his friend, Jack McCarthy came over for a visit, Dad said, "Jack, watch this." With that, he stretched out on the floor, face down and called "Here, Fluffy, here Fluffy..." Dad was sprawled out alone in the center of the room with his hands on his head waiting for his new pet to perform for what seemed like an hour. After about five anxious minutes of cajoling, Fluffy finally came though with the only trick she felt like doing at the time: she crawled under a chair and relieved herself. Jack McCarthy roared with laughter and gave Fluffy a standing ovation while teasing poor Pop unmercifully. Dad muttered something ~ and that may have been the first time I went to Mom to ask her what a word meant ~ whereby she insisted that if I were to ever repeat it, I would get my mouth washed out with soap.

Back to David Letterman ~ His Stupid PET Tricks was so well received that he started Stupid HUMAN Tricks (SHT). I'm sure we ALL know someone who would qualify for this great honor, but yesterday I saw the Queen of SHT driving on the highway.
I was driving north on Rt. 75, taking some friends to the airport in Dayton and the weather was near blizzard-like conditions. The roads were snow covered and so slippery that we saw cars sliding off the road every half mile. A lovely wintry snow-ice mix was adding to the challenge of keeping the car ON the road. We never drove over 30 mph for the entire 45 mile trip that normally takes about 48 minutes. Yesterday we were lucky to arrive at the airport safely in a nerve-racking 98 minutes.
I think you get the picture.
Apparently a woman driving in the middle lane at 8 mph didn't.
We assumed that was holding up the few cars driving behind her because she was so nervous maneuvering her vehicle with the terrible road conditions. Then we saw her roll her window down and stick out her hand that was holding some kind of stick. As we drove closer, attempting to carefully pass her, we realized the "stick" turned out to be a snow scraper! She was attempting to scrape the snow/ice off her front windshield while steering! The four of us in the car were speechless (a SHT for the four of us, to be sure!) as we could not fathom the silliness of this individual. I thought that maybe someone from Candid Camera was filming expressions of motorists who witnessed this bit of insanity.

I swear I am going to start carrying my video camera everywhere from now on. Although, come to think of it, I'm glad I haven't been video-taped for some of the SHT I've done, like getting in what I thought was my parked car while a woman was sitting in the passenger side, waiting for her husband to come out of the bank.
She should have locked her doors...at least that what I told the police.

A Magical Surprise Gift

I must lay the groundwork for the unfolding of this super surprise. First of all, I had two parents that were ordered and delivered perfectly according to my own specifications. They were darn near perfect. I suppose one of the very few things about my Dad that could have used just a teeny bit of improvement was in his rare releasing of compliments. My Dad passed away two years ago and I have often wondered if he had been proud of me. I do remember him bragging to his friends now and then on the phone (when he thought I wasn't listening) about something I had done of noteworthy attention. But that was when I was a kid. As we grow up we still need our parents approval and I did, indeed, received it from my Mom. Dad was just a little less verbal.
Well, the other day I had re-connected an old phone that I hadn't used in a while. It doubles as a fax machine and two days ago when I entered the room, I could hear a beeping that signaled that I had received a fax. There wasn't any fax that had come through so to stop the beeping noise, I pressed what I thought was the STOP button. A mechanical voice came on saying "YOU HAVE ONE MESSAGE..."

I thought, "that's funny because I haven't used this answering machine in probably four years"

It was my Dad's voice. He had never liked answering machines and if he left a message, it was usually very short and to the point. In his last two years of his life his voice had lost a lot of it's luster and zest. But this message was Dad speaking in an excited, strong voice and my best guess is that he had read an email that I had sent him telling him my progress in selling some thingamajig....

His message was ~ "Hi, Honey! That is great news! Wow! Six sales in a row! I can't believe it..I mean, one or two, but SIX? That is great. I am so proud of you.
...give Bailey (my dog) some extra turkey to celebrate! I'll talk to you soon!"

I stood in stunned silence as a couple of tears made their way down my cheeks.

Thanks, Pop. I'm proud of you too. I can only imagine the trouble you went to for that message to finally get to me. Better late than never.

I won't be erasing that message any time soon, for sure.

Love in the Afternoon

My nephew (37) has a pastoral role at a great Church here in Cincinnati. Tomorrow there is a dinner party being thrown for 120 people who normally don't know when their next meal is, not to mention WHAT it will be. Sean has been asking for help from the community to provide the various items that most of us take for granted will be on our dinner plate on a daily basis.

I know that when I prepare food for friends and family, I love the "chores" of shopping, preparing, cooking and presenting. I feel like the whole process is one giant gift of love that I can show without wanting anything in return. (Ok, maybe I want just a LITTLE help with the dishes)

Take today for example ~ Sean and Annie's 6 year old son, Griffin, was at our house because he was too sick to go to school. I volunteered to watch him for the day and around noontime, I made one of his favorite lunches ~ Grilled cheese with 2 pickle spears and a sprite.
I told him that I made it with lots of love.
As he bit into his sandwich, he looked at me and said, "Peggy, I just swallowed a kiss!" After another few bites, he shouted, "I have all this love in my stomach..it's as big as GOD!"

Well, now, someone has been raising this wee one pretty darn right.
I also surmise by the way his Dad is approaching this free dinner for tomorrow night, there will be 120 people who will feel the love...and you know what? The ones providing the dinner will feel it right back.