Monday, July 28, 2008

57 Years of Role Modeling

Not only was it my birthday today, but it was also Mom and Dad's 57th wedding anniversary. I was born on their first wedding anniversary and always told Mom I knew I was the best anniversary present she'd ever gotten. For some reason, she tends to roll her eyes when I say that. Anyway, here is my parent's story of how they met, fell in love and eventually married...

Dad was stationed at MacDill Air Force Base in Tampa, Florida in 1952 and was friends with Calvin Padget who was a friend of Alice McGhee. She invited them to come to Georgia for a family birthday part and that is where Mom and Dad met each other. They started writing each other and he was invited to Georgia again and soon began spending more time with Mom. They soon fell in love (though Mom always said it was love at first sight for her).

They made plans to marry in August. Aunt Alice had married Calvin Padgett in June and came to visit in July. Mom and Dad wanted them to be their matron of honor and best man, so they decided to get married immediately.
Mom and Dad were married on July 28, 1951 at the home of the Justice of the Peace. Uncle Calvin and Aunt Alice drove them to their wedding after borrowing Granddaddy McGhee's car. They spent their honeymoon at the home of Uncle Grady which was next door to Grandmother and Granddaddy McGhee's home. They left the next day on Sunday for MacDill AFB for their new home on the bus. (They didn't get a car until September 1953 when I was a baby and Dad had come back from TDY in England. It was a 1946 Dodge). When they got to Tampa, they went out to the base Sunday afternoon to look around and to see where Dad worked.

They spent their first night in the Hillsborough Hotel for $13.00 a night. Mom stayed in bed and slept while Dad went to work. When he got off work, he borrowed a car and they went looking for an apartment. They found and rented a furnished apartment for $33.40 a month at 214 W. Platt. Mom had brought mainly her clothes, a skillet that had a handle "two times too long", a couple of pans, towels, etc. Thankfully payday was on Monday, so they went and brought some groceries and other necessities. Dad's paycheck had been $76.00 per month, but it went up to $135.00 after they got married.

50 + 6 = My birthday


Yes, this is what I look like at 56 years of age at the end of a long day that started at 5:45 a.m. I didn't mention to Joe this morning that it was my birthday just to see how long it would take him to remember. He was dropped off at Mom and Dad's this morning to go for three doctor visits, no word of acknowledgement then.

I went on to work and was surprised there. Tami had bought me a very large birthday cake to share with lots of people at the plant. A special birthday email was sent throughout the plant so all day long I received congratulations. As I was leaving for the day, Tami presented me with a present - a sandwich maker. It's a neat little appliance that you can make all kinds of cooked finger sandwiches. Can't wait to try it out!

Nancy fixed me a 1/2 red velvet birthday cake (she was thinking about Joe's and my health - thank you Nancy). Joe had finally called me during the afternoon to sing "Happy Birthday" to me and took me to dinner at Longhorn's where I ate my fill of all-you-can-eat liver and onions!!! I know, I know, Longhorn's is a steak restaurant, but they have fantastic liver and onions for those of us who love it. Besides, with all that iron, I'm going to be like Superwoman.

Sunday, July 27, 2008

You Saw Who!?! a/k/a my brush with famemonosity

Okay, Nancy threw out the challenge for us on one of her latest blogs to 'fess up on famous people we've met in one way or another. So, I will attempt to delve into the deep recesses of my brain and see who I can recall. I will also name bands/singers I've seen in concert.

Henry Winkler - actor (The Fonz on Happy Days). Joe and I saw him while we were waiting for our plane in LAX, California in August of 2007. We were eating lunch at the California Pizza and he came walking towards and then past me. I saw him coming, told Joe, but decided not to accost the poor man and just said hello. But, as soon as he passed, I was on the phone calling everyone I could think to call.

Lou Rawls - singer ("You'll Never Find A Love Like Mine") I was at a child care conference in north Georgia in 2006. I had been taking things out to my car and a very nice man wearing a cap and holding a small dog held the door open for me. I thanked him and in his unmistakable voice he said I was welcome. He had such a distinctive voice and I knew immediately who he was. I got on the elevator with him, but never acknowledged that I knew who he was.

I met Tina Cole and Don Grady at church girl's conference in Provo, Utah when I was 17 years old in 1970. I had been selected as "Youth of the Year" for the entire Florida Mission and selected to attend this conference for girls all over the United States.

They used to be on the television show "My Three Sons" with Fred McMurray.













This is a picture of me with Joe Frank Harris in 1990 who was the governor of Georgia at this time. He came to Tifton to deliver some speech at the Chamber of Commerce and my office was right next door, so I got to meet him.

Jimmy and I saw Barry Manilow in concert in Atlanta one weekend in the middle 70's. It was in a very small venue so it was very intimate in that he interacted with the audience often.


My biggest claim to meeting fame was in 1971 when we lived in New Jersey. My best friend, Ericka (Ricki) MacPherson was the girlfriend of Jay Osmond. When The Osmonds were coming to Philadelphia for a concert, she and I went and met the entire family and spent time in their hotel room. In fact, we'd even gone a couple of days prior to pick up a birthday gift Ricki had gotten for Marie. We went to the concert and then came back to The Osmonds room afterwards.

Saturday, July 26, 2008

Well, I Do Have A Birthday Coming Up Soon


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It never hurts to wish for something especially when you blow out the birthday candles, right? Oh, I forgot you've gotta have a cake with candles for that to happen and that doesn't look real promising either.

But, in case you're trying to decide what you can get me for my birthday, I'm still waiting on my black convertible Mustang GT with dual pipes with a five-speed transmission, chrome rims and an awesome sound system. Perfect for those little trips up and down the interstate. And, you might want to throw in a hat for Joe so that his cute little pumpkin head doesn't get sunburned. By the way, those of you who didn't or can't contribute to "my pony", you might want to take up a monetary collection to help pay for those speeding tickets I'm sure I might get occasionally.

Thursday, July 24, 2008

Up, Up And Away!

Was this my lucky night or what!?!? I sat down this evening to check emails and happened upon one of my favorite sites clarkhoward.com. This guy lives in Atlanta and is a consumer advocate and gives tips on a variety of subjects, including travel. While browsing, I noticed posted airline tickets from Atlanta to Salt Lake City on Continental at an incredible price. I jumped on that information like a junebug in heat to see if I could find a ticket so that my sweetie could go with me to Utah in October to see our fantabulous grandson. (I already had a ticket from a previous "freebie" I needed to use). The price was so outstanding it was not to be believed. So, I'm typing in all the pertinent information about Joe and payment arrangements with quivering hands and afraid to move my eyes from the screen so as to not make a mistake. While doing so I'm bellowing at the top of my lungs for Joe to hurry and come. I'm trying to explain to him about the unbelievable ticket price and type at the same time urging him to cross his fingers that all goes through. At the conclusion of entering the data, I hit the "proceed" button holding my breath until da, da, da, dum!!!!! it is finished, completed, ended with the desired intentions. Joe is going to Utah in October too!

The downside to this is we won't be on the same plane - not even the same carrier. I will leave from Atlanta to Phoenix to Salt Lake City going and Salt Lake City to Phoenix to Charlotte to Atlanta coming home. Joe goes from Atlanta to Minneapolis/St. Paul to Salt Lake City going and Salt Lake City to Houston to Atlanta coming back. So, I think the Weaver's will have covered most of the United States in October. The fun part will be meeting up with each other at the end of each leg. Knowing our luck, there will be some freak early winter blizzard somewhere in some city and that will add to our excitement of being in the same place at the same time. Oh, and I did buy travel insurance this time just in case Joe decides to take another vacation in the hospital instead of flying.

Needless to say, by this time I am purely giddy with our good fortune of lucking upon this incredible price. I then wonder if that same fare is applicable to May of next year during the time of our annual family reunion. I decide to check it out and YEP!!! it is! So, once again with a dry mouth, heart palpitations, heavy breathing and trembling fingers (sounds a little erotic in some ways), I put in all the information for Corey and Nikki's possible tickets, after hurriedly calling them for how many days they could be gone, and voila I was able to book flights for them and Derek for next year at this incredibly, obscene low price! It's Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year for all of us! Thank you Continental Airlines!

So look out everyone at the Family Reunion. My children and fantabulous grandchild will be in attendance this coming year. No need to pass around the obligatory grandma pictures this time around. This could be my best one yet...the kids, Derek, Joe, my family and Aunt Rachel's chicken and dumplings! Could life get any sweeter? I think not. This will also be the opportunity for Derek to meet his great granddaddy for the first time, as well as all the other family members.

P.S. At the conclusion of my ticket purchasing, I called all the other "Utah Moms" here in Georgia. They are the ones who have children living up and down I-15 in Utah while the moms live here. I called everyone to let them know about the great fares and to hop on it quick! A short time later I went back on the website and found out - the fares had DOUBLED!!! Sorry for them, but there is the saying which is...You snooze, you lose! And, WE WON TONIGHT! Yes, it was our lucky night tonight.

Wednesday, July 23, 2008

I Am So Xcited!!!

The new X Files movie comes out in a couple of days. I've been watching the trailer and advertisements on television. Everytime I do, I think of Corey. He and I were fanatics of the show. In case you don't know a thing about the X Files...it premiered on September 10, 1993 and last aired on May 19, 2002. And, I watched EVERY episode!!!

The show lasted nine seasons and focused on the exploits of FBI Agents Fox Mulder and Dana Scully and their investigations into the paranormal. From genetic mutants and killer insects to a global conspiracy concerning the colonisation of Earth by an alien species, this mind-boggling, humorous and occasionally frightening series was one of the world's most popular sci-fi/drama shows since its humble beginnings in 1993.

Like I said, Corey and I were addicted fans of this never-to-be-missed television show though he wasn't allowed to watch it in the beginning since he was only 11 years old and I was afraid he would have nightmares. However, as he grew older he became a fan and during the last seasons, we even went to a friend's house and would have a dinner party and watch the show. It was spell-bounding and very scary at times. One episode had something to do about something that was inside a toilet bowl. I can remember for several days afterwards, Corey and I would both check out the toilet before using it.

When the original X Files movie came out, Corey and I were one of the first people to see and enjoy it. They just don't make television series the way they used to. "Lost" is the only show that comes close to X Files these days. This is one fan who is looking forward to the new movie!

Women of the world - has this ever happened to you? Why do you think I turn on the light every time I go to the bathroom at night? It's not just to make sure I don't step on some dying cockroach taking its last breath in the middle of my bathroom floor. It's to make sure that my tush does not touch cold porcelain!

Tuesday, July 22, 2008

5 Years or 10 Years?

It's time for me to renew my driver's license. In fact, if I don't hurry up and get my paperwork finished, I'll have an expired license! I can hardly believe that five years have already passed and it's time for a new license. Where did the time go? Hmmm, got over my divorce, got remarried, gained a lovely daughter-in-law, lost a job, got a job, gained a grandbaby, etc., etc., etc. with all the fun in between.

The dilemma is this...I have the option to renew for another five years or ten years. Georgia Department of Driver services state "due to vision requirements, all drivers over 59 years of age will only receive a 5-year term license". So, I don't have to consider that restriction since I'll only be 56.

I guess the question is where and what do I expect to be doing in five or ten years? Why would I need just a five year license? I expect that I will still be working in ten years - I'll be about ready to retire then and eligible for social security benefits? I know I'll stay here in Georgia as long as Mom and Dad are still with us so I don't plan on moving out west anytime soon since I expect them to be around forever. Hopefully Joe's health will be stabilized and he'll be working or volunteering somewhere in the community. So, it would appear that I need the ten year license, right?

Do you realize that would mean not renewing my license until 2018? Wow! Just think, Derek will be almost 11 years old, Joe and I will have been married for 14 years, Mom and Dad will have been married for 67 years and we will have had a wonderful celebration for them on their 65th wedding anniversary. Nancy could be a great grandmother! Think of all the weddings that could take place in the next ten years...Susan, Travis, Sarah, Matthew, Jed, Jimmy, Ally, Tabi, Madeline, Isabella. Think of all the other new grandchildren that could be born and how much of increase we could have in our family. Who might be going on missions? Where will we all be living? Doesn't it just boggle your mind?!

Question to anyone wishing to speculate..."What else could happen during the next 10 years - particularly in our family?" "What would you like to happen in the next 10 years?" "

Tobacco - A Vanishing Crop

As long as I can remember coming to visit my grandparents and family who lived in south Georgia, tobacco was always a big crop. However, through the years with I've watched the amount of tobacco being grown diminish since there aren't as many people smoking anymore.

Lots of my cousins grew up "working in tobacco" and it was their way of earning good money during the summer to buy new school clothes or a car. I think the pay was about $25 per day. That was a lot of money at that time. More than I would make babysitting. Being a "city girl" I had no idea what it was like to work in tobacco. I got a chance after my family came back from Japan. According to an entry in my diary dated July 24, 1965...Dear Diary, I got to work in tobacco. Stood in the truck and handed it down.

The reason I probably didn't write anymore was: (1) I was way toooo tired to write anything more; and/or (2) I could never explain what torture I had been through that day. I was staying with my grandmother at the time and she thought it would be a great idea for me to have the experience and I could make some good money! Let me just say that at the end of the day there wasn't enough money to EVER work in tobacco again.

My experience as I remember (and I may have to go into therapy after recalling this day) - I had to get up at some ungodly hour of the morning since we had to be in the field very early. I got to ride on the back of a pickup truck and stack sticks as they were handed to me when the tobacco had been "strung" on the stick. One of the problems was that the leaves were damp and the nicotine from the leaves started to stick to you and your clothes. It wasn't like you could just wipe it off and you couldn't wash it off since you were out in the middle of a field with no water.

Anyway one of the other things I did that day was hand off the tobacco that had been strung and was ready to be hung in a barn to be dried. There were lots of leaves hanging on a single long wooden tobacco stick (clever name, huh?) that had been piled on the back of the pickup truck. I had to hand these sticks down to someone on the ground who then handed it to someone else who hung it in the barn. By now the sun is high in the sky and it is hot! Especially hot to someone who has never done this type of work before. I was only 13 years old and apparently a wimp!

One of the next jobs was the worse!!! We went to a drying barn where the tobacco had already dried and cured. I stood in the bottom of the barn and the sticks (which were very light now since the moisture had been sucked from the leaves) were handed down to me. No problem you say - wrong. The leaves were now full of dried sand and nicotine particles that fell into your eyes. It didn't matter if you had a hat on your head or not - you had to look up to get the stick and all that dried stuff fell into your face and eyes.

By the time I made it back to Grandmother's house that night, even she didn't recognize me. I was covered in black/brown nicotine, dried dirt, sweat streaks, etc. As far as I remember that was my first and last time ever working in tobacco and I never plan on doing it again in my lifetime!

Monday, July 21, 2008

My Memories of the Apollo 11 Moon Landing

Since yesterday was the 39th anniversary of the "first step on the moon", I thought I'd share what I had written in my diary during that time period. (Has it really been 39 years!?! Wow, I am getting old)!

July 16, 1969

Dear Diary,
Today the astronauts took off for the moon. I heard the blast off and it just sent chills all over my body. It was a perfect lift off and they are still going towards the moon. They are Armstrong, Aldrin and Collins. It just seems impossible for someone to be going to the moon. I'm happy too that I'm living in this phase of history.

July 18, 1969

Dear Diary,
The astronauts are still okay.

July 20, 1969

Dear Diary,
I'm now listening to the broadcast of Apollo 11. They landed on the moon just perfect. They are going to step out on the surface of the moon soon! Well, they did it! At 10:56 EST, Armstrong stepped out on the surface. I was downstairs in the living room with Nancy, Susan and Mom.

July 21, 1969

Dear Diary,
The astronauts got off the moon safely and caught up with the ship "Columbia". It still just seems incredible about man going on the moon.

These pictures are from a newspaper I've saved since 1969. I was almost 17 years old and about to be a senior in high school. We were living in Valdosta, Georgia where Dad was stationed in the Air Force at Moody AFB. As you can see by the article on the right-hand side, the Vietnam war was in full swing. Unknown to us at the time, in a little less than a year, Dad would leave for Saigon, Vietnam for a one year tour of duty. (It would be interesting to follow-up on the guys in the article and see what became of them - did they make it back stateside, are they still living, what did they do once the war ended, etc.).

(Click on the link below and you will see the footage as we saw it on TV).
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RMINSD7MmT4

Tuesday, July 15, 2008

Happy 76th Birthday Dad!

“Your birthday is a special time to celebrate the gift of "you" to the world".

James Edward Cattell was born 76 years ago in Thorn Hospital in Hudson, Lenawee, Michigan, the first born son and second child of Louise Dora Hammond and James Harold Cattell. From the time he was born until December 1939, he lived in the area of Onsted, Michigan where my grandfather worked mostly at farm labor. As it was in the midst of the great depression, my grandfather took whatever work could be found. He would work all day husking corn by hand for .50 cents a day. They had a goat or two to supply milk for the kids. In December, 1939, they moved to the Ed Kelley farm, about three miles south of Hudson. His dad was paid $90 a month, plus two hogs each year and a gallon milk daily. They lived here until September 1947 until they moved to Mountain View, Missouri.

In the words of my dad..."we older kids went to Catholic Hill School which was the typical red-brick one room school. My teacher was Lucy Monahan Hartly. Lucy had begun her teaching career in September, 1939 after graduating from high school only three months before. I give her the credit for my love of reading and learning. After a break to raise four children of her own, she returned to teaching and was a very positive influence in many lives. I particularly remember our "field trips" which were really trips to the fields and woods near the school to visit Leland Parks' sugar bush to watch him make maple syrup, cut the school Christmas tree or study the wildflowers blooming in the spring. We walked about a half a mile to the school.

October 1947 was the BIG move to Missouri. In July, shortly after Patty (his younger sister) was born, Mom and Dad went to south central Missouri and bought a 150 acre farm about three and one-half miles northwest of Mountain View. Dad had had several heart attacks in the several previous years and they felt that a small subsistence type farm would be better for him than the demands of a large Midwest general farm. On their return, plans were made to end out large farming operation. Because of a heavy frost the night before, the crowd was much less than expected, so the income from the sale was only about half what we hoped for.

One event that stands out in my childhood was my entry into 4-H Club and the showing of livestock at fairs. When I was ten years old, Dad bought a registered Guernsey calf for my project. By late summer, that was certainly the ugliest pot-bellied, skinny calf in the county. However, my 4-H leader insisted that I take it to a show. There were twenty one entries in my class and I was ranked twenty one, mostly because the judge felt sorry for me. Things got better from there one. I had great success showing Brown Swiss cattle and fat hogs. In fact, I have many times bragged about sleeping with the hogs.

My first year of high school was at Hudson High, in the old building, which has since been demolished. Even though my mother was valedictorian in the class of 1924, my greatest accomplishment was in living through the year.

Attending school my second year in Mountain View was quite a change for me. The building in downtown now being used an as elementary school was used by all grades. Teachers did their best, but in many cases they were not qualified for the subjects that they taught or else they had been in those positions so long that they were stale and dull. I was totally bored and dropped out at the start of my junior year.

Since I was not bothered by school, I was free to roam through the fields and wood on the farm. The area changed with each season. I hunted with an old .22 caliber rifle and my companion was a three-legged mutt who had been hurt in a machinery accident. I don't remember his name, but I do remember that he loved to chase squirrels and rabbits. Since the farm had several abandoned homesteads and blackberry patches, there was lot of cover for game".

He continues:

"Evelyn's daughter, Linda, called March 24, 1993 to tell us that her mother had just died of breast cancer. She had had a radical mastectomy in August 1992. When she visited us at Thanksgiving she wasn't feeling well and needed a cane to help her walk. I called her on March 7 and that was the last time I was aware of the seriousness of her condition, so her death came as somewhat of a shock to me. Being the oldest of us children, she led us into mortality and has now passed through the veil we call death. With her visit at Thanksgiving and an earlier one in June 1991, we had really connected for the first time.

In order for her to attend high school, since it was in the days before busing, she went to work as a nanny and housekeeper for a family who lived close to Hudson. She was only home about every other Sunday or less. Then, in 1944, she married Robert Wayne Mills who was a very dominating person who would only allow occasional contact with her family. Our family moved from Michigan in 1947 and I enlisted in the Air Force in 1950 so in the next 40+ years we had only been together a few times. As we get older and realize the need for family, we realize the loss we have suffered.

On July 2001, Hazel and I celebrated our 50th wedding anniversary with a reception at the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints social hall. About 175 friends and relatives were in attendance. Possibly the greatest part of it all was that 21 of my Cattell relatives were here to celebrate. Those who came from a long distance were Uncle Lorin and Aunt Mary, my brother David with Erma, Paul, Rhonda, Stacy, Jennifer and Tina; my sister Joyce with Bob, Ron and Brenda; Lorin and Mary's son Doug and wife Susan, daughter Laura and husband Joe; my sister's daughter Karen, husband and daughters Kelsey and Grace. Hazel was surprised to get the ring she wanted for several years. I made her wait until the reception to get it.

Carol and Susan decorated the tables and were responsible for our "memories". Susan handled arrangements for the food and servers and in general was the "right hand man". Nancy was in charge of lining up families for photos. Tara helped with the food and was a very gracious hostess while Jimmy got re-acquainted with family that he had not seen in many years.

David and his group arrived on Thursday with all the rest coming in on Friday, except Doug and Susan who drove down from Goose Creek, SC on Saturday morning. It was such a wonderful weekend! It seemed as though we all had lived close together all of our lives and were having a family party. All of our kids acted more like brothers and sisters than cousins. They especially enjoyed the swimming pool. Only problem - it all ended too soon.

Mom died quietly in her sleep about 2:30 a.m., December 22, 1994 at her home in Mountain View, MO. Dave called me soon after. We called Donald and Nancy in Jacksonville and since they were coming for a Christmas visit, they went with us to Missouri. All five of us remaining children were together from Friday until the following Tuesday. It was the first time we had all been together since 1949, just before I enlisted in the Air Force. Even though we buried Mom on Christmas Eve, it was such a warm and satisfying feeling that we enjoyed in each others company. A special treat was to have Uncle Lorin and Aunt Mary with us. They are the last of that generation. We were entranced by his stories of his early life, his work and of our older family members.

August 15, 2006...Several of my grand and great grandchildren have recently asked about their "family tree" and some of the events in my life so I have put together a "family tree" book with pictures of Hazel and my ancestors.

Other writings/thoughts of Dad's:

In the summer of 1958, my squadron of CK-97 tankers were deployed to Thule, Greenland for three months. While there, we flew reconnaissance flights, listening for Russian radio transmissions and monitoring their flights in the area. On one of these flights, we descended below one thousand feet and circled the North Pole. our magnetic compass went wild as we flew over and around the Pole. I didn't see Santa Claus or a red-striped pole, nothing but snow and ice with occasionally some open water, not even a polar bear.

I remember Pearl Harbor and many things from World War II. The Pearl Harbor attack was on Sunday. As was their habit, Dad's parents came out to the farm from Hudson. They told us about hearing on the radio about the attack, so we turned on our radio and tried to listen to the reports as they came. Of course, in 1941 long distance radio reception was poor at best. It wasn't hard to understand that this was a very major event. Dad was too old for the Draft and was also the father of five children and also a farmers, so he escaped the draft. Many family members (Uncle Lorin), friends and neighbors were drafted and some of them died in the war.

Sunday, September 23, 2001 - It is now twelve days since the attack on the World Trad Center in New York, the Pentagon and the plane that crashed in Pennsylvania. It has been a very difficult time. I had just arrived at Carol's house in Omega when she told me of the attack. We watched the second plane hit. I commented to Carol that this was not an accident, but an act of terrorism and that the world changed at that moment.

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The top picture is of Grandmother and Granddaddy Cattell and Aunt Patty. The other picture is of the barn that is on the property of the Missouri farm.

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Just remember that birthdays are good for you. Statistics show that the people who have the most live the longest.

Sunday, July 13, 2008

Friends Are Like Chocolate Chips In The Cookie Of Life

It's been very humbling and gratifying in the last few weeks to discover who our friends are. We've been so blessed by the numerous phone calls, emails, prayers offered in our behalf, hugs, visits to the hospital, priesthood blessings, visits to our home, gifts of food, gifts of company and offers to do more. It's also been a great blessing to have my family support by shuttling and caring for Joe and their love for him.

The night before Joe's surgery, I got a phone call to meet a friend of mine who lives in McRae. Jill and her family were done in the area for a short family vacation. She called and wanted to meet so that we could get together to catch up on our lives. So, after telling a groggy Joe that I was off to meet Jill, I headed to Adel. While driving down the road, I spotted a rainbow and I took it as a good omen for good things to come in the next few weeks.




It was a great visit with Jill, Bob and the boys and a reminder of how great it is to have friends that are there for you if you need them. They were some of my friends who gathered much needed supplies for the Hurricane Katrina victims. With the help of their families and church members, they collected so many things that we took with us when we went to Waveland, Mississippi.

Joe + Outpatient Surgery = More Fun Than Humans Oughta Have

Nothing seems to be simple with Joe anymore when it comes to his health. He went in for his outpatient surgery last Wednesday to insert a catheter in preparation for his dialysis. It was supposed to be an uncomplicated surgery and I had fully expected to be back at work sometime after lunch. He was going to stay at Mom and Dad's and rest until I came back for him. Yeah, right.
We were supposed to be registered at the Outpatient Clinic by 8:30 a.m. We arrived on time and waited and waited and Joe was finally called back to begin his preparations. I was told I'd see him again in about 45 minutes. Yeah, right. Luckily for me I had someone to keep me company for awhile. Tiffany Stewart, a friend of mine who I worked with in Valdosta, came and spent some time with me catching up on anything and everything. When she left, I got to spend some time with one of my old daycare moms.

When I finally got to see Joe, He was prepped and ready for surgery complete with a happy pill to make him wander off into la-la land. He had enough strength and clarity of mind though to throw me a kiss. However, after attempting to have continuous, understandable conversation, he finally gave into the drugs. Yeah!!









Finally it was time for him to be wheeled off for his operation and off he went.







Some four hours later he returned looking like: (1) the newest member of the Teletubbies; or (2) someone imitating a butterfly cocoon. Actually he looks snug as a bug in a rug, huh?



After a couple of hours, it was time to make his break...

After finally making it home after picking up a medication for Joe, changing sheets and fixing dinner, I finally got Joe in bed about 7:00 p.m. When I went to check on him about 10:30, I discovered that he'd "sprung" a leak around his incision and was spurting blood. Needless to say, I wound up taking him to the emergency room. We finally arrived back at home around 1:30 a.m. after some incision repair and finally made it into bed around 2:00 a.m. Waahoo! So much for routine outpatient and making it back to work. But, thus far all is going as well as expected for someone with a 3 inch incision below his navel.

(Don't you know that Joe just loves having these pictures made of him? That'll teach him to be high on hospital drugs and not know what's happening around him, huh)?

Only A Woman Could Understand - Part Two

Sometimes you receive those emails that just make your roll with laughter. This was just such a one for me sent by Nancy. And no, this did not happen to me - thankfully! Warning...this may be unsuitable for anyone who is not female and is not old enough to shave her legs and armpits.

My night began as any other normal weeknight. Come home, fix dinner, and play with the kids. I then had the thought that would ring painfully in my mind for the next few hours: "Maybe I should pull the waxing kit out of the medicine cabinet". So I headed to the site of my demise: the bathroom. It was one of those 'cold wax' kits. No melting a clump of hot wax, you just rub the strips together in your hand, they get warm and you peel them apart and press them to your leg (or wherever else) and you pull the hair right off. No muss, no fuss. How hard can it be? I mean, I'm not a genius, but I am mechanically inclined enough to figure this out. (YA THINK!?!) So I pull one of the thin strips out. It's two strips facing each other stuck together. Instead of rubbing them together, my genius kicks in so I get out the hair dryer and heat it to 1000 degrees. ('Cold wax,' yeah.. Right"!) I lay the strip across my thigh. Hold the skin around it tight and pull. IT WORKS! Ok, so it wasn't the best feeling, but it wasn't too bad. I can do this! Hair removal no longer eludes me! I am She-rah, fighter of all wayward body hair and maker of smooth skin extraordinaire.

With my next wax strip I move north. After checking on the kids, I sneak back into the bathroom for the ultimate hair fighting championship. I drop my panties and place one foot on the toilet. Using the same procedure, I apply the wax strip across the right side of my bikini line, covering the right half of my hoo-ha and stretching down the inside of my butt cheek (it *was* a long strip) I inhale deeply and brace myself.... RRRRRRIIIIIIPPPPPP! I'm blind!!! Blinded from pain!!!!!.....OH MY GAWD!!!!!!!!!! Vision returning, I notice that I've only managed to pull off half the strip. CRAP! Another deep breath and RIPP! Everything is spinning and spotted. I think I may pass out..must stay conscious.. must stay conscious. Do I hear crashing drums???? Breathe, breathe. OK, back to normal. I want to see my trophy - a wax covered strip, the one that has caused me so much pain, with my hairy pelt sticking to it. I want to revel in the glory that is my triumph over body hair. I hold up the strip. There's no hair on it. Where is the hair??? WHERE IS THE WAX????

Slyly I ease my head down, foot still perched on the toilet. I see the hair. The hair that should be on the strip.. It's not!! I touch. I am touching wax. I run my fingers over the most sensitive part of my body, which is now covered in cold wax and matted hair. Then I make the next BIG mistake... remember my foot is still propped upon the toilet? I know I need to do something. So I put my foot down. Sealed shut! My butt is sealed shut. Sealed shut! I penguin walk around the bathroom trying to figure out what to do next and think to myself 'Please don't let me get the urge to poop. My head may pop off!' What can I do to melt the wax? Hot water!! Hot water melts wax!!!! I'll run the hottest water I can stand into the bathtub, get in, immerse the wax-covered bits and the wax should melt and I can gently wipe it off, right???? *WRONG!!!!!!!* I get in the tub - the water is slightly hotter than that used to torture prisoners of war or sterilize surgical equipment - I sit.

Now, the only thing worse than having your nether regions glued together, is having them glued together and then glued to the bottom of the tub..in scalding hot water. Which, by the way, doesn't melt cold wax. So, now I'm stuck to the bottom of the tub as though I had cemented myself to the porcelain!!! God bless the man who had convinced me a few months ago to have a phone put in the bathroom!!!!! I call my friend, thinking surely she has waxed before and has some secret of how to get me undone. It's a very good conversation starter - 'So, my butt and hoo-ha are glued together to the bottom of the tub!' There is a slight pause. She doesn't know any secret tricks for removal, but she does try to hide her laughter from me. She wants to know exactly where the wax is located, 'are we talking cheeks or hole or hoo-ha?' She's laughing out loud by now... I can hear her. I give her the rundown and she suggests I call the number on the side of the box. YEAH!!!! RIGHT!!!! I should be the joke of someone else's night.

While we go through the various solutions, I resort to trying to scrape the wax off with a razor. Nothing feels better than having your girlie goodies covered in hot wax, glued shut, stuck to the tub in super hot water and then dry-shaving the sticky wax off!!!! By now the brain is not working, dignity has taken a major hike and I'm pretty sure I'm going to need Post-Traumatic Stress counseling for this event. My friend is still talking with me when I finally see my saving grace..the lotion they give you to remove the excess wax. What do I really have to lose at this point? I rub some on and OH MY GAWD!!!!!!!! The scream probably woke the kids and scared the dickens out of my friend. It's sooo painful, but I really don't care. 'IT WORKS!!!! It works!!!!' I get a hearty congratulation from my friend and she hangs up. I successfully remove the remainder of the wax and then notice to my grief and despair..THE HAIR IS STILL THERE..ALL OF IT! So I recklessly shave it off. Heck, I'm numb by now. Nothing hurts. I could have amputated my own leg at this point. Next week I'm going to try hair color!

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This slightly reminds me of the time that I was rehanging mounted (stuffed) bass from one wall to another. My ex-husband, Les, had added a large hook which had hang out of its mouth. To remove it from the wall, I had to stand on a stool and while pushing up to dislodge it from the wall, the hook swung out and actually hooked me on the underside of my right arm. I could not dislodge it, so I had to carefully remove the mounted fish not wanting to stick it in even deeper and step down from the stool while holding onto the fish. This was all done while I had six small daycare children watching and continually asking me what I was doing. Unfortunately, I wasn't able to remove the hook - I really was caught by the fishhook. I thought about calling the local police department or fire department, but didn't want the embarrassment of being "caught" by a fish and being the butt of small town conversation. I thought about walking around my neighborhood trying to find someone who was at home during the daytime, but then thought better of that. I would look like a small parade...me at the head of the parade clutching the fish to my chest, who by the way looked like it was trying to give me a "hickey", and then having six little ones follow behind me. Finally reason took hold and I called the one person I thought should be at home and who wouldn't laugh at me. I was right about one thing, she was at home and said she would be glad to help after I tried explaining to her what had happened to me. But I was wrong in thinking she wouldn't laugh. It took longer to tell her about what had happened than I expected as she kept laughing so loud and long, but promised she'd be right over. She was still laughing when she arrived. In fact, she was wiping her eyes from the laughing which got worse once she saw my predicament. But at least I didn't have to call the police or the fire department. She was able to release me, I used a disinfectant, the hook came out of the fish's mouth and it was rehung. At least I didn't become the topic at the monthly fire department meetings!

Only A Woman Could Understand


I recently received an email about women and public toilets and thought I'd share it, with some added commentary from my own experiences, since it is so true...

When you have to visit a public toilet, you usually find a line of women (especially at the airport just when your flight has just landed), so you smile politely and take your place. Once it's your turn, you check for feet under the stall doors. Every stall seems to be occupied. Finally, a door opens and you dash in, nearly knocking down the woman leaving the stall. You get in to find the door won't latch. It doesn't matter, the wait has been so long you are about to wet your pants!

The dispenser for the modern 'seat covers' (invented by a Mom, no doubt) is handy, but empty. You would hang your purse on the door hook, if there was one, so you carefully, but quickly drape it around your neck, (Mom would wring your neck if you put it on the FLOOR !) down with your pants and assume "The Stance". In this position, your aging, toneless, thigh muscles begin to shake. You'd love to sit down, but having not taken time to wipe the seat or to lay toilet paper on it, you hold "The Stance". And, Mom told you to NEVER sit down on the toilet seat!!!

To take your mind off your trembling thighs, you reach for what you discover to be the empty toilet paper dispenser. Great! In your mind, you can hear your mother's voice saying, 'Carol, if you had tried to clean the seat, you would have KNOWN there was no toilet paper!' Your thighs shake more. You remember the tiny tissue that you blew your nose on yesterday - the one that's still in your purse (the purse around your neck, that now you have to hold up trying not to strangle yourself at the same time). That would have to do, so you crumple it in the puffiest way possible. It's still smaller than your thumbnail.

Someone pushes your stall door open because the latch doesn't work. The door hits your purse, which is hanging around your neck in front of your chest and you and your purse topple backward against the tank of the toilet. "Excuse me, but I'm in here" you scream in your nicest voice, as you reach for the door, dropping your precious, tiny, crumpled tissue in a puddle on the floor, while losing your footing altogether and sliding down directly onto the TOILET SEAT. It is wet of course. You bolt up, knowing all too well that it's too late. Your bare bottom has made contact with every imaginable germ and life form on the uncovered seat because YOU never laid down toilet paper - not that there was any, even if you had taken time to try. You know that your mother would be just die if she knew, because you're certain her bare bottom never touched a public toilet seat because "You just don't KNOW what kind of diseases you could get".

By this time, the automatic sensor on the back of the toilet is so confused that it flushes, not just once, but twice, propelling a stream of water like a fire hose against the inside of the bowl and spraying a fine mist of water that covers your bottom and runs down your legs and into your shoes. The flush somehow sucks everything down with such force and you grab onto the empty toilet paper dispenser for fear of being dragged in too.

At this point, you give up. You're soaked by the spewing water and the wet toilet seat. You're exhausted and now have sweat forming at the back of your neck. (Also, you don't remember it being this warm when you first entered the stall). You try to wipe with a candy wrapper or a gum wrapper you found in your pocket and then slink out inconspicuously to the sinks. You can't figure out how to operate the taps with the automatic sensors, so you wipe your hands with spit and a dry paper towel and walk past the line of women still waiting.

You are no longer able to smile politely to them. A kind soul at the very end of the line points out a piece of toilet paper trailing from your shoe. (Where was that when you NEEDED it?) You yank the paper from your shoe, plunk it in the woman's hand and tell her warmly, 'Here, you just might need this".

As you exit, you spot your husband who has long since entered, used and left the men's toilet and been waiting and waiting for you. Annoyed, he asks, 'What took you so long and why is your purse hanging around your neck? Wouldn't you just love to take your purse and wrap it around his neck until his face turns a bright blue?

This is dedicated to women everywhere who deal with any public restrooms (rest??? you've GOT to be kidding!!). This should finally explain to men why it really does take us so long to use the restroom. It also answers that other commonly asked question about why women go to the toilets in pairs. It's so the other girl can hold the door, hang onto your purse and hand you Kleenex or paper towels under the door.

BTW...my favorite thing to do when I'm in a restroom by myself is whistle "Memories" from the Broadway show Cats and check out the acoustics. Try it sometime. Also, why is it that when someone walks in on our unlocked stall and they say "sorry", we always say "that's okay"? Is it really okay? Heck no, but at least we are showing our good manners, huh? And, if you're a woman and you're laughing, this has probably happened to you.

Tuesday, July 8, 2008

Another Chick Flick Worth Watching

http://video.aol.com/video-detail/ladyhawke-trailer/1341664069

It's A Good Thing Joe Is Cute and Funny or else...

Last night while surfing through the TV channels I suddenly stopped and proceeded no further. I realized I had just reached the high point of my day when I saw that the movie "First Knight" was just beginning! I've loved this movie every time I've seen it. If I believed in reincarnation, I know that I lived in medieval times in England since I am so in love with that time period and country. I knew what I was going to be doing for the next many, several, numerous minutes. Drooling and loving every minute of it. How could I not? Richard Gere and Sean Connery in the same movie. Richard is so fine a man to watch in any movie I've seen him in, as well as Sean. Don't you just love his voice? I could listen to him read the telephone book and never move a muscle. Anyway, back to the movie...

The movie opens with Lancelot fighting in small villages for money. While traveling to the next village, he chances by the carriage of Lady Guinevere, and helps spoil an ambush meant to kidnap her. Afterwards, Lady Guinevere refuses the advances of Lancelot.

Later, he arrives in Camelot and successfully navigates an obstacle course called the "Gauntlet", which wins him an audience once again with Lady Guinevere, and her husband-to-be, King Arthur. While staying in Camelot, Guinevere is kidnapped by Malagant's followers. In a daring rescue attempt, Lancelot feigns the role of a messenger only to escape with Guinevere and return her to Camelot. Once again, Lancelot tries to win her heart, but is unsuccessful.

Overflowing with gratitude, Arthur makes Lancelot a knight of the round table. Moments before swearing loyalty to his new queen, a messenger from Lyonesse arrives, with dire news that Lyonesse has been attacked by Malagant.

Arthur leads his troops to Lyonesse, successfully defeating Malagant's forces in the process. Upon returning to Camelot, Lancelot feels guilty about his feelings for the queen, and in private announces his departure to her. She grants him a kiss, which turns into a passionate embrace, just in time for the king to interrupt.

Lancelot and Guinevere are charged with treason. The open trial in the great square is interrupted by a surprise coup by Malagant, ready to burn the town and murder Arthur if he does not swear loyalty to Malagant. In his final moments, Arthur commands all present, "To fight! Fight like you've never fought before! Never surrender! Never Surrender! Fight as you never..." and is struck in the chest by four crossbow bolts, after which he says, "Camelot lives!" A battle between Malagant's army vs. Camelot's soldiers and citizens ensues. Lancelot and Malagant face off amongst the crowd of people battling one another. Just as Lancelot is about to be killed by Malagant, he grasps Arthur's fallen sword, Excalibur, which grants him the strength and power to gain the upper hand and kill Malagant.

The soldiers and citizens of Camelot win the battle, but Arthur dies of his wounds. On his deathbed, he asks Lancelot to "take care of her for me" - a
double entendre referring to both Camelot and Lady Guinevere. The movie closes with a funeral raft carrying Arthur's body floating out to sea.

Aaaahhh, be still my beating heart!!! And, kudos to Joe for putting up with my sighing and drooling.

If you like, enjoy the music from the movie. It was great also.

First Knight by Jerry Goldsmith

Sunday, July 6, 2008

Our Independence Day Weekend

Since gas is so high (I filled my car up for $57.00 on Friday at $3.93 a gallon) and we had a crazy week with Joe getting out of the hospital, we didn't go anywhere out of town even though I didn't have to work for three whole days. Oops, I lied, we went from Omega to Tifton but that's as far as we went out of town. We didn't go to the beach, we didn't hang an American flag, we didn't go to a parade and we didn't go to a fireworks display. Does that mean we could be deported to a non-American country? I say no, since I did grill a couple of chicken breasts outside.

During the weekend, I did something strange - I got to take a couple of naps and loved that, Joe got his "store bought" haircut (see pictures below on Smilebox), I did a little (very little) yard work cause I cut the hedge trimmer cord, it was getting hot and it was time to shower and take Joe to town for his haircut. I have already developed swollen spots from embedded stickers from blackberry bushes growing in amongst my gardenia bushes (darn pooping birds), mosquito bites and scratches. Now, we'll see if I break out with poison ivy rash in about four days.

Joe watched his NASCAR races (his main man, Tony Stewart, was sick on Saturday and didn't drive - shucky darn) and Omega has a fireworks display that I saw through the bushes outside our front door. We had to bring the dogs in because the sound of the fireworks was scaring them to death. Boring, huh?, but I don't care I loved it!

This afternoon after church, Joe and I took the furry kids for a ride to James and Jerry Walker's house. They are B.J.'s grandparents and they hadn't seen how big he's gotten in a while. And the furry kids LOVE to go for a ride. They would go for more rides if I let them. However, I don't want my car smelling like some new car fragrance named "Dirty, Nasty, Smelly Dog".


B.J. (bottom three pictures) doesn't hang out the window like Blaze does. He just likes to stick his head out and do some major smelling with his jowl flapping in the breeze. Maybe it's because he didn't grow up riding around in the back of a pickup truck like Blaze.

Blaze (top two pictures) HANGS out the window and goes back and forth between the left and the right hand windows. Every time a truck passes by, she lunges at the back window at the truck goes by. The larger the truck, the louder and longer the growl. 18 wheelers really drive her crazy. Cars and people don't seem to bother her at all.

I got B.J. for Joe's Christmas present a couple of years ago from Jerry and James Walker. (Jerry was one of my former directors while at the Child Care Resource and Referral Agency. Jerry is a very multi-talented person and one of the things she does is paint. One of her paintings is of Bryson, her grandson, with four puppies. B.J. is the black puppy being petted by Bryson in the painting.

One of the reasons I enjoy visiting with Jerry and James is their bee box. It's a large rectangular box that sits in their den and is built so that bees can come in and out of the box at will through a PVC pipe front the outside of the house into the bee box. It rotates so that you can also see bees busy at work making honey through the Plexiglas cover like the two pictures below. It's fantastic to watch - even better than an aquarium.