Are you ready for some color

pink_petunia

Well, I don't know about you all, but I am ready for some serious color. The picture of the pink petunias above are from last summer, and the ones below are too.

I have a couple of trees that were unearthed by the latest flooding/or storms and are ready to fall onto my driveway. A lot of their branches are tangled up in grapevines and wrapped around the electricity wires. I called my electric company and they sent a nice gentleman out. He went to college and studied trees. He marked the trees for removal stating that they were only about fifty years old. They are some kind of fir.

Then he told me all about my flowering dogwood. It should bloom in about five days. He told me if I ever need to trim it, to do it right after it blooms. It has too much sunlight, but that would be okay. He asked me if I ever notice that some parts of it begin to "tan". That is when it has had all the nutrients it needs for the winter and the leaves begin to turn red.

He said that it probably won't grow any taller, but may branch out wider than what it is now. He was very nice. Even if he did call me a "gal". While we were talking he got a call on his cell phone. He told his caller that he would return his call after he was done talking to this "gal". So, I will call him a guy. The electric company sent out this "guy." Regardless, I am getting my camera ready.

I managed to make it through a pain-free day today. No migraine medicine, no over the counter headache medicine. I think I can safely say this migraine has passed. It has been a while since I had a four-dayer.

My daughter used some of her birthday money to buy a mouse. For a dollar. Except the cage, feed and litter cost about forty. Hmm. I think a lesson in economics is in order. Guess what will be in my yard sale this summer? It looks kind of like the Taj-Mahal for one little itty bitty mouse. The rest of her birthday money will be saved for her class field trip to Washington D.C. and Cedar Point.


Coming from the speakers: Cool Change by Little River Band

Eye Migraine

eye migraine

I wasn't worth sh!t this week-end. My migraine started on Friday. Of course. My day off from work and the beginning of a beee-you-tiful week-end. Migraine medicine (Relpax) kept it manageable. Just. Saturday was a repeat of Friday. Another Relpax. Sunday I refused to take another one. By Sunday night I felt like I was dying.

Today I am left with the eye migraine. It feels like there is a fork behind my eye trying to poke it out. My stomach has been severely upset today so I stuck to tylenol. It doesn't do much, but I cannot stomach the more powerful pain remedies. Such as Excederin or Advil. Crackers and ginger ale. Did I mention how beautiful the weather has been and I am stuck lying in bed or on the couch with a nine-inch nail embedded into my eyeball?

Excuse me. I have to go and throw up now. Again.

Coming from the speakers: Nothing. Even the fan is making too much noise.

Update: I broke down and took another Relpax. (sniff) It is working, the pain is finally abating. Tuesday April 12. 2:40 a.m.

Cookies, SSL and DNS - Oh My!

coat girl

This is one of my favorite pictures of my daughter taken about ten years ago. It makes me smile each time I see it. It is a digital picture of a 35mm picture through a clear plastic cover in a photo album. Follow that?

A big congratulations to Tabor for her new hat. Role of Grandmommy! Picture can be seen here.

Well, according to blogger.com status' page, they are having problems with SSL. To find more about it: Secure Socket Layer.

We are also told to clear our cookies.

Or, as I like to say, toss our cookies.

In explorer, choose Tools, Internet Options, General tab, and Delete cookies.

In Mozilla Firefox choose Tools, Options, Privacy (picture of yellow padlock), and across from the Cookies option is a Clear box. Click on that. Or, you can clear everything in one click. Near the bottom of the window is a Clear All button.

Cookies are also getting a bad rap here.

Coming from the speakers: Sara by Fleetwood Mac.

Who Poisoned the Internet?

birthday spray

What in the heck is going on with posting these days? I have pulled out every trick in the book that I can think of and still I want to take a .22 and shoot this thing! Here are some of the problems I am having. Are you having the same? I use both IE and Firefox.

Document contains no data.

Having to re-login numerous times.

No reaction to the mouse click.

Sit and spin.

DNS timing out problem.

Page not found.

Spellchecker not working.

Publishing and losing my entire post (unless I saved it to notepad first)

So, I clear the cache, reset the wireless router, check the DNS. Try accessing the site using just the IP address. 66.102.15.100. Sometimes that would work. Persistence, patience, but why? Who poisoned the Internet?

And why do I keep putting commas in the wrong place? As I re-read my previous posts, I am thinking to myself - Why did you put the comma there? I have to go back and edit the post so that the comma appears correctly. And with all the hassles of posting, that is no small task.

Coming from the speakers: Faith by George Michael

Happy Birthday, Daughter Dear

brad pitt

(Sigh). I tried to get a decent picture of Christopher Atkins from The Blue Lagoon (my daughter watched the movie over the week-end), but I had to settle for Brad Pitt. Can you imagine anyone saying that? Settle for Brad Pitt?! Bite my tongue!

It was a wonderful birthday. A few close friends, balloons, pizza, cake, ice cream and a new bike. A shiny silver trick bike. Zoom, zoom!

She is off with her friends at Open mike night at the local dance/pool hall that is run by the city Police department. Free internet, pool tables, dances, open mike night, battle of the bands. She loves it there.

She wanted a pool table and a guitar for her birthday along with the trick bike. I said no to the pool table (running out of room) and she picked between the guitar and bike. Summer's comin'.

From the speakers: Eli's Comin' by Three Dog Night.

Lunchtime Banter

royal mac


I sat enjoying my lunch break in a town about twenty miles away in a fast food restaurant.

I overheard this conversation at a nearby table.

"Yes, I watched the first part of the broadcast. I never miss
it. He had a lot to say about Charles and Camilla. He really trashed her."

I thought to myself, 'People actually talk about this?'

The other one said, "Well, they have had a rough time of it."

First gossip, "yeah, they postponed their wedding because all of
the bigwigs were going to the Pope's funeral."

Pause while they chewed.

"You know, I probably won't see it in my lifetime, but I believe
that the Queen had Princess Di assasinated. Just look back in history,
it happened all the time."

The other didn't comment.

Wow. Pretty strong words.

As I got up to throw away my garbage I had to take a peek at
the two sitting at the table.

One of the gossips was dark tanned with short spiked, bleached (orange-tinted) hair.

Both were tanned and dressed casually. I would venture to guess mid-fifties.

I imagine that the two men were golfing at the nearby
golf course. In the rain.

Yes, two men. Lunching and gossiping about British royalty.

Well, I never.

Back at the school, I overheard another conversation between two teachers
on their break in the lunch room.

First one, "You know what my favorite treat was when I was a little girl?"

Other, "What?"

"Kraft macaroni and cheese! Do they still make that?"

Cripes lady - where the hell have you been?

Take me back

grin

Take me back to the world we knew before. Before we knew the meaning of the words dysplastic, nevi, nevus, melanocytic, prophylactic excision, metastasis, and the one I personally dislike re-excised.

My daughter is going through the re-excising process. One surgeon removed the moles on her back and had them sent to a lab. Benign. Beautiful word. Two dermatologists determined that either they were growing back or the surgeon did not get them all. Both dermatologists advised that we re-excise them.

And, now one has to be re-re-excised. It seems that the lab determined that the margin around the lesion was too close. That perhaps some of the nevi remains. Dermatologist needs to go back in - just to be safe. This is the mild one. Not even moderate.

Just to be on the safe side. Her back is already scarred where they took it out. I suppose it won't make any difference if they cut into a scar. A blow upon a bruise. A cut upon a scar.

Can you tell I am tired? I have been reading and reading and reading about moles (a.k.a. nevi, nevus).

Coming from the speakers: Nothing, but there is this ringing in my ears...

She's been a good dog

tripod

This tale that follows if from one of my older sisters' archives. Retold by me here for you to enjoy. It is a tangled story about our love for a little terrier dog that we both shared the company of. She was one of a kind.

Now, from my sister's perspective:

I arrived at the therapist's office a few minutes late. I was always late. I could not get motivated these past few months. My husband had been seriously ill, and they never really found out what it was.

And, now this therapy just didn't seem to be helping. Doctor Arora was nice enough. Though his Indian accent was thick and hard to understand for me at times. I was usually so timid, I never asked him to repeat himself. It just seemed rude.

I sat across from the doctor trying as usual to get comfortable in the high-back chair that never seemed to fit my body. After a few seconds of twisting my torso this way and that way, I managed a weak smile for the doctor.

His eyes were studying the papers before him. Finally, he looked up at me and smiled.

"So, how are you today?" he asked.

What I said:
"Oh, I'm a little sad. My dog died."

What the doctor heard and I didn't know it:
"Oh, I'm a little sad. My daughter died."

He said, "I'm so sorry! When did this happen?!"

"Oh, a week or so ago."

His eyes grew wide.

"How old was she?"

"We think she was eight or nine. We're not really sure."

The doctor gave me a sidelong glance that I didn't take notice to.

I sighed and tears welled up in my eyes. It seemed like I cried a lot these days. The doctor reached over and patted my hands that were folded uselessly in my lap.

"How tragic for you."

"Yes, she had lost a leg."

The doctor dropped the papers. He left them on the floor.

"Oh my! How did that happen?"

"She was hit by a car."

The doctor sat there with his mouth agape. He must be a pet lover.

"My Goodness! That is terrible!"

"Yeah, we had a time with her after that. She just kind of hobbled around the house."

The doctor made some kind of a face I couldn't decipher.

I sighed again. I thought perhaps it would be therapeutic to talk about her.

"My sister had her for a while, before she moved out of state."

"You're sister had her?"

"Yeah, they were really close. She was in my sister's care when she got hit by the car. It was a foggy fourth of July morning. The neighbors found her under their car. We don't know how long she had been laying there. Some car must have hit her and knocked her under there, they never stopped."

The doctor looked a bit ill to me, but I couldn't tell. I thought he might be getting sick, so I managed another weak smile.

"It didn't make her afraid, though. She still loved to ride in the car."

The doctor's return smile looked a bit pinched to me, but he nodded. He was letting me get all of the sorrow out. I tried to sound upbeat.

"She would dance around the best she could with that one leg gone and wait and hope to see if we would let her go with us whenever we went somewhere."

I swallowed hard remembering her little body wriggling around, but managed to continue.

"She knew when we were leaving because I would be freshening my makeup and combing my hair. She would come into the bathroom with me while I was getting ready and just look up at me with those big, soft eyes of hers. Sometimes we couldn't take her with us because we would be going someplace where they didn't allow her to go and we would have to leave her home with the cats."

The doctor seemed to shift uncomfortably in his chair. Maybe he had a hard time adjusting to these stupid chairs the same as I did.

"Where did you go that she wasn't allowed?"

"Well, places like the grocery store."

"The grocery store!?"

The doctor had such an incredulous look on his face. Perhaps things were different in India.

"I know that in some foreign countries, they allow you to take your pets in, but in the US - it isn't allowed unless they are a seeing-eye dog or something."

"Pets!?"

"Yes, my pet, dog."

"You're dog!? I thought you were speaking of your daughter!"

He seemed relieved. As if he had just figured out the mystery to a puzzle.

"Uh, no. My dog died."

The color returned to the doctor's face. He seemed more relaxed.

"Time's up!"

Thank goodness. I was spent. I never realized how emotionally draining it was to get everything out.

Coming from the speakers: Shannon by Henry Gross

Yesterday, when I was young

kuddles

Here I am in 1968 with my Mom, five of my siblings and my very, very close pal "Kuddles". He was a stuffed gray mouse that I carried with me everywhere. Who knows what happened to him.

This picture was taken somewhere on the Virginia border. We went to Virginia Beach a couple of times during the summer between school years. I remember the beach, the ocean, the motels, the pools, and the sunburns. Oh, and throwing up in the car.

My family was so big we always took two cars on vacation. Nobody wanted to ride in the same car with me, because that was the car that had to stop to let me throw up. Often. (Sigh) I'm sorry!

I ended up moving to the Virginia Beach area for a few years in my twenties. It didn't hold the same appeal. The beach had gone downhill and the new place to go for vacation was Myrtle Beach. I hear that Va Beach has vastly improved again. It was quite the party town in the 80's. The entire time I lived there, I think I may have gone to the beach five times. And three of those times were when relatives came to visit.

1968. That was before Jaws. When it was still safe to go into the water. Before I knew about sharks. My brother did cut up a dead stingray on the beach near our motel one year, though. He wanted the stingers. He got them. Two of them. They looked like little serrated bones.

Ahh, good times. The worst thing that I ever had to worry about was if I would get a window seat and how to make my sunburns stop hurting.

My daughter gets her stitches out for her latest mole removal tomorrow. Doctor wants to talk to me. They didn't get all of this last one. They will have to go back in. Great. How many more? Six, seven surgeries? This mole was downgraded to mild nevus dysplastia. From moderate to mild. Is that supposed to make me feel better? When there are six or so more to be removed? Will the next one be back up to moderate? Will it be mild? What is above moderate? Elevated? Severe? My stomach is starting to hurt.

I don't want to do this anymore.

You don't? What about your daughter? Suck it up! Don't you go wimping out on your little girl! She is the one who is going through the real pain! You whiny little baby! Quit your belly achin'!

Coming from the Speakers: Seven Bridges Road by The Eagles

Doctor, my eyes have seen the years

eye

Why do we forget ?

How is it that we don't recall that someone has hurt us before? Or, we choose to forget. The boyfriend or girlfriend that stands you up or cheats on you. How is it, that we go back out with them? Forgive and forget seems to be the motto.

And, when they hurt us again? We curse beneath our breath. How did we let it happen to us again? Why do we let it happen to us again?

And our country seems to do the same. Remember the words "Forgive your enemies, but never forget them." Read between the lines: until you need something from them.

That is how it seems to be in the workforce also. You only get special privileges if you hold something back. Knowing what information to hold back from your managers so that they need you seems to get you more
special handling. I never did believe in that practice, and therein may lie my frustration.

And, in life. We make mistakes, but we don't seem to learn from them. We repeat the mistakes. Is it because the consequences weren't severe enough or even carried through? Did we get a slap on the wrist?

Does anyone recall the boy who was caned in Singapore? Well, he was eighteen. Some say that some of the foreign countries carry out much
harsher punishments than the United States. That the U.S. has become soft in it's crime control, and that weakens us.

What causes us to pause before we repeat mistakes that we have made in the past? Repeat offenders. Do some of us have a way of stuffing the memories of the price we paid deep into our subconscious? Two people can be punished the same way for the same crime, one may repeat
the behavior, while the other never takes the action again. Why? Is it in the upbringing? The genes? Is one capable of NOT learning from their mistakes. Is it their fault?

Can they help themselves? Can rehabilitation help them? Can some synthetic drug help them? Can therapy help them? Are they destined to end up in prison, violent relationships, dead-end jobs, leading a life of misery and loneliness for all time?

I know this. This is way too many questions for a Sunday afternoon.

Coming from the speakers: I Am by Neil Diamond

School Daze

school


The teacher asked us to follow him.

He would show us where the phone lines were.

Me and two girls followed him.

The other two girls giggled and their laughter echoed off the cold cement blocks of the high school.

"Why?" I thought to myself. "Why do I always get stuck with such immature girls?"

The teacher had white hair and was very much a gentleman. He had lost his wife of thirty years recently.

I hoped that he couldn't hear what they were giggling about.

"I think he likes you!" one of them said to me as the other one giggled.

"OOhhh, you have a boyfriend!" the other one chimed in.

I cringed for the elder teacher. I wish that he didn't have to put up with such clowns.

Either he actually didn't hear them, or he was too much of a gentleman to acknowledge their rudeness. Perhaps years of teaching had taught him how to keep a poker face. If you react, that just adds fuel to their fire.

"I think he's soft on you!" the one girl said to me, trying to embarrass me.
I gave them both a stern look. They giggled some more.

Ahh, such girlish antics that go on in any school across the nation. The rudeness, the spite, making fun of others.

Perhaps it was the age. But, wait. This was just last year and it wasn't high school girls.

It was my co-workers. One was forty-one and the other was twenty-seven.
This is what I have to work with.

Coming from the speakers: Fooling Yourself by Styx

Choose Your Attitude

cya

Ah, yes. My attitude. My sister was told by one of her Administrative personnel that she has a "caustic wit". I looked up the word caustic. Hmmm. So, that's where I get it. I get it genetically.

My attitude has gotten me into more scrapes than I care to mention. But, it is my attitude and I can change it, right? But, I like to think of it as sneezing. Like a sneeze is trying to expunge some germ out of your body, my caustic wit is trying to expunge some germ's brainwashing out of my body. You know, the people who chant "All your base are belong to us!"

I have to use sarcasm. It is like a creative outlet. It keeps me from going insane. It keeps me from cracking at all the stupidity. My brain cannot process that much stupidity. My caustic wit is my survival technique. Without it, I would surely explode. I think that I may have a legal right to my sarcastic attitude. Some go to anger management. Perhaps we can have a management course for sarcasm. Sarcastic Management. People fear what they don't understand. They just don't get my sarcasm. It scares them and they resort to drastic measures. They are finding it difficult to control me. My base doesn't belong to them. Never has, never will.

Ha...ha...ha..ha..

Coming from the speakers: All your base are belong to us by Invasion of the Gabor robots. (I think).

Circles in the Sun

joy

"We'll have joy, we'll have fun, we'll have Circles in the Sun."

No, that's not the way it goes. Regardless, I hope you enjoyed the day. It was darn purdy here in my part of Ohio.

Even though I was falling asleep at my desk. Yes, I had the sleep study done on me last night. What a trip. Take some body. Paste sensors to their head. Paste sensors to their legs and throat. Wrap them all up in thin, plastic cables and tell them to sleep.

I looked like something out of a 1950's science fiction magazine!

I slept like HELL!

I did dream of cutting tree limbs down with a chain saw, though. I thought that was pretty cool. Considering I have never handled a chain saw before.

I was so miserable, I thought I was going to scream. Every time I moved, I was pulling a cable from underneath me.

This morning when the lady came to take all the sensors off of me, she said "You don't sleep very well, do you?" Naw, you think? Oh, and not to mention the big bandage they put right under your nose. This will determine what air is coming in and out of your nostrils. She had to change mine in the middle of the night. The first one she put on was as big as the palm of my hand (I swear!). Neither one stayed on very well because the warm air from me breathing out moistened them to where they gapped.

This night - I suppose from being in a foreign bed, I developed a lower back ache that kept me awake for about two hours. You could get up to go to the bathroom, but you had to call her to come and un-hook you from all the wires. I stayed put all night.

I told her that I have been sleeping fine, just not last night. My doctor has been trying to get me in for a sleep study for two years because of my tiredness during the day. From time to time I do a lot of driving. I take my camera now, and that keeps me alert.

I know that they are going to have a field day with my study. I should have taken my CD player and my General Wellness CD of Belleruth Naperstak. (Yawn!)

My daughter and I looked at trick bikes today. She wants a bike more than she wants a guitar for her birthday. I told her she can only get one. Since she doesn't plan on doing any "tricks" with it, I chose the cheapest one for her. It will do. She got to choose the color. Silver, black or olive green. Silver, it is. They are on sale until Sunday. The bike owner shop took 7% off (or rather, the state sales tax).

Off to the kitchen to see if my darling daughter will help me make sloppy jo's, velveeta shells & cheese and some kind of vegetable.

Coming from the speakers (should I? Sure, why not) Seasons in the Sun by Terry Jacks. (gag - But, we sure liked it in the early 70's.)

Spring Break

spring_break

Knowing what we know today about the dangers of sun exposure, would you go to Florida for a week and bask in the sun? Every year? For fifteen years? Just to jump-start your tan for the summer, then to continue in the tanning salons until it is warm enough to where you can absorb the sun's damaging rays outside. What are the odds that you would get melanoma?

We can sue the tobacco companies when we get lung cancer or emphysema. What can you do if you get skin cancer? Sue the beaches of Florida? How about the state? All that advertising made it look so safe and so fun!

I am thankful for some of the celebrites who are not sporting dark tans. Remember Cher in the 70's? She was the image! And, Farrah Fawcett's tan. Today we can look at Cate Blanchett, Gwyneth Paltrow, Nicole Kidman, and Julianne Moore to know that maybe, just maybe the message is getting through.

It doesn't help in rural Ohio, when so many of the teenage girls are running off to the tanning salons to prepare for the prom. Off the shoulder dresses and spaghetti straps. Don't dare be caught with milky white skin.

And, what do we say to the sun worshippers when they return from a week in Florda?

"You look good!"

They smile and twirl. "Yes, but I still need to go to the tanning booth. I am not near ready for summer."

Coming from the speakers: Here Comes the Sun by The Beatles

Purple and White Flowers

purple flowers

What a wonderful Easter! I spent the day with family. Oh my, did we laugh. I haven't had that much fun in a while. I found out my niece is expecting. Hurrah! She is the first grandchild to become pregnant (from our immediate family of eight children.)

The little boy from St. Patrick's day is a step-grandchild. We love him dearly. I don't mean to downplay his part in the extended family area.

We ate. We drank champagne. We were supposed to meet my one nephew's new lady-friend. She is a wine representative. I had lots of questions for her, but they were a no-show. He got stuck at work. Maybe next time.

I took my daughter to track today. They ran in the rain. One of her so-called 'friends' has been kicked off the team. This is the girl whose grandmother asked me to keep her for ten days and I chose to keep her for three while they were in Arizona. I found out a couple of weeks ago that her grandparents don't like her to be around my daughter because she (my daughter) is a bad influence on her. Oooo-kay.

Well, the other day she was practicing track with my daughter - on their own. When we left, I told her I would give her a ride home. I don't like to leave people behind. She sat up front and proceeded to flip a school employee the bird as we were leaving. I slammed on the brakes and said:

"Tell me you didn't just do that!"

By this time the school employee was walking fast to our car. It was a lady lunch monitor. It seems that she is not at all popular with the students. She is as mean as they come. Regardless, I don't condone obscene gestures.

I told her to get out and apologize to the lady.

My daughter's friend furiously rolled down the window. She knew she had no escape. She started sputtering her apologies quickly.

The lunch monitor said "No, you're not sorry. You're just sorry you got caught!"

Well, that was the truth. A few more words were said and I pulled away. I wanted to kick the girl out right then and there, but I drove her a couple of blocks and told her to get out. I was furious.

The girl was kicked off the team because she is failing many of her classes. Her grandmother has custody of her because her mother had been arrested for hitting her. Lovely.

At Easter dinner I was telling my sisters the story. One is a daycare specialist, the other is a psychologist. Both told me that given the incidents I told them, they are suspecting sexual abuse as a possibility.

The girl will hump anything and everything. I am constantly telling her to leave my dog alone. She thinks it is funny. I was chalking it up to middle school antics. My daughter said she went into somebody's yard on the way home from school and began humping one of their lawn deer. I was like WHAT? And, she pulls her pants down and urinates in the alley if she has to go.

At track practice she pulled her pants down for me to take a picture of her rear-end. I declined.

I told my daughter, I really don't want her around anymore. How sad. This is the girl that rubbed mashed potatoes in my daughter's face. And, the one who narrowed her eyes at me when I told her it wasn't my place to have to give her money for lunch. Ooo-kay.

My mini-vacation is almost over. Back to work tomorrow. The girls have the whole week off. My daughter has track practice every day. My niece has nothing to do. Pac Sun let her go. She isn't working anywhere. Her prom is coming up. I will get pictures of her dress. She picked it up Saturday. Beautiful.

Coming from the speakers: Drops of Jupiter by Train.

Big Fish

big fish

Big Fish in a Small Pond. How do fish get to be so big? They destroy and gobble up the little fish. So that the remaining fish in the pond do what they say as they live in fear of the Big Fish. For the ones who stand up to the Big Fish, well, they have many bites taken out of them. Most of them just try to stay out of the Big Fish's way.

But, everyone knows that Big Fish stink. They start to become so big that they begin to get bored with their little pond. Sometimes the little fish get bored, too. They may play games like taking little bites out of the Big Fish. This irritates the hell out of the Big Fish. No one can ever relax.

Coming from the speakers: Iris by the Goo Goo Dolls. (For Goose)

Peaches 'n Cream Management

cream

A little over twenty years ago I worked in a small office. I was the EDP Operator. That's what we called them back then. Electronic Data Processors. Hah! It was 1983 or 1984.

I had a co-worker. A female. I guess I made her cry one day. I don't know how, I don't remember. But, she told the Manager. I was called into his office and he began to nitpick my work. I was pulled into his office each time she and I got into a quarrel. She began to get labeled as the office tattletale or snitch.

Now, the Manager's father ran the place and he didn't have any problem with my work. Just this one manager. He hovered over this female co-worker because she was always "helpless". She had just been through a divorce, she couldn't keep a boyfriend, you know the type. Poor poor pitiful me.

Well, I was young and I finally decided that I had enough. I moved on. Actually, an opportunity arose and I took it. But for a couple of years there, it was every six months or so, she would cry and I would get reprimanded. The strange thing was she and I usually got along fine the rest of the time. For some reason or other (maybe when she was experiencing extreme stress and duress) she would crumble and take something I said or did wrong.

Attitude. So when an employee is reprimanded they get "written up" or something goes into their personnel file. But, what can the employee do if they feel the Manager is picking on them? Like harassment. I never went over the Manager's head. I just stated my case and continued to do my job. It infuriated the Manager. I laugh about it still. His company crumbled about six months after I left. (Not because I left. It is just that the place was run poorly.)

I had another Manager at another place who wouldn't stand up to anyone. He just sat around, pretended to keep busy, and try his best not to manage anyone. He was just a lump. He let another Manager run all over his department. He never once stood up for his people when the other Manager would jump them for something.

The company let a young whippersnapper run the entire show. This caused much hostility among the elders. He barked at all of them, showed no respect for what they had to offer and basically stated "My way or the highway". I chose the highway. I don't know how this company ended up. I moved out of state.

I think in today's world, so many younger employees are coming into the work force with more skills than the elders. However, they do not have any people skills. They usually force the older people out. Why? Are they threatened by the older people? Are they scared? If so, what are they afraid of? Instead of making peace with the older workers, they alienate them and ostracize them. They build up a house of cards with their ass-kissing subordinates. Will the cards come falling down? If so, who gets to play 52 pickup?

Coming from the speakers: Better Beware by Lisa Marie Presley

Black Acoustic Fender DG5

fender


This is what my daughter wants for her 14th birthday that is coming up fast. I don't know. I only want to get her a beginner's guitar w/o paying too much in case she doesn't stick with it. I told her that she has to take lessons, too.

She also wants a trick bike. I told her she better get a job. I think they can start working as young as fourteen in the fast food places right down the street.

Coming from the speakers: Smoke on the Water by Deep Purple

When I snap....

snap


Yep. This is me on Wednesday. You know who you are.

Coming from the speakers: Hair of the Dog by Nazareth (Now you're messin' with a SOaB)

Have Gun, Will Smile

Minus the wave.

This picture of a small boy in the park, holding a gun and smiling just gives me the creeps. When I took the picture last summer, I really didn't notice the gun. They are on the top of each ride. I had to laugh though, when I saw that it was plugged up with something. In this case it looks like cheese. Now, I am thinking, what kind of children's ride would have guns on them? Older ones, I guess.

That brings us to the subject of "Going Postal". Three of us had lunch yesterday and we were discussing the strangeness of a co-worker. One said that he was afraid he (the other co-worker who was not present) would 'go postal' one day. How strange, that the Post Office became the origination for that term.

School shootings did not just appear with the Columbine incident. School violence has been going on for ages. Here are some web sites that go back before Columbine. Not just shootings.

http://www.indystar.com/library/factfiles/crime/school_violence/school_shootings.html

Coming from the speakers: One Tin soldier by Coven

Freddy? Is that you?

freddy


What a beautiful day to get out of work early. I left at 2 p.m. Turned the radio on. Parked at the (already) packed parking lot of the school. Went up the old stone steps. There was my lovely daughter waiting for me. I signed her out. I met her track coach on the way out and chatted for a minute.

We took our time and stopped to get my daughter her favorite cheeseburger at BK. I wasn't hungry, just thirsty. I listened as she told me about her day. After, we got back in the car and turned north.

Oh, wasn't it just a beautiful day for a drive? Where would we go? The park, maybe? No, not this time. What a waste of beautiful sunshine. Ironic sunshine. So damaging that sunshine. So damning.

About forty minutes later we arrived in the parking lot. We were just a little bit early. We had chatted about nothing in particular on the way up. Just avoiding THE subject. How was school, how was track, homework, and friends.

"Can we just sit in the car for a few minutes? I want to do my homework." she asked me.

"Sure. No problem." I said.

We checked out all the nice vehicles. We were in a ritzy part of town. Everyone was driving brand new shiny SUV's or huge pick-up trucks. As if there was not a petrol crisis going on in the world.

Looking up at them as I sat in my little Honda Civic, I realized that if my car and they were in a head-on collision, there would be very little chance of our survival. They would probably come out with a bent fender.

My daughter and I would be wearing their grill on our faces for our funeral. It used to be only the strong survive. Well, I guess that is true - they who have the strongest vehicle. Maybe it is only the rich survive, now. Only the most expensive cars have the safest air bags.

We finally went inside the office. There were three others waiting before us. We grabbed a magazine and sat in silence. The door opened.

(To myself) ."No, not yet."

They called another name. We continued to read in silence.

The door opened again. (me to myself again). "No, no. Please no."

They called another name. There was one boy left in the room and me and my daughter.

A little while later the door opened again.

(me cringing) "Please, please."

The boy retreated behind the door. I began to relax. We had emptied out the waiting room. It was just she and I. I showed her an article I was reading and we began to laugh and carry on. The nurses just shook their heads at us.

The door finally opened. I knew this time we were out of options. The waiting room was empty except for us. We had been scheduled to fill two spots instead of one visit. We walked back the long hallway into the little room.

The room with an overhead spot light, needles, surgical antiseptics, cotton balls, scalpels, surgical thread and fear. She shed her hoodie, baby doll tee and sports bra. All black. It's the age. She put on the flimsy, barely there hospital gown. She handed me her clothes. They were so warm from her body heat.

The next thirty minutes was a series of amicable chatter. More like nervous banter from the doctor, I guess. She is a chatty one, I'll give her that. She was admiring my daughter's earrings. Long, dangly, silver ones. She said that my daughter sure was a fashionable one.

The doctor said, "They were all impressed with your Halston dress and the people that you knew at Elaine's"

I said, "Billy Joel."

Whew. I could keep up with her. We could relate. She is a very nice doctor. No male doctor would recite words to a song that I knew. That is a certain fact. It was pretty smooth sailing after that.

My daughter said she wasn't in much pain at all. They stitched her up, she dressed and we were homeward bound. Heading south on the Interstate. As the sun disappeared below the horizon, the cooler air seeped in around us. I turned the heater on. It was getting chilly.

Coming from the speakers: Little Bitty Pretty One by Thurston Harris

Can Negative be Beautiful?

Negativity

Maybe only in a photograph. My daughter is having another mole removed tomorrow. She is worried that it will ruin her track running. She was unable to even bend over the last time, but the next day she was much better. I don't know.

Too bummed to write anything tonight. Have been reading. News, other blogs, teenagers Xanga's, tech news. Last week the doctor gave me Nasonex for my coughing fits. Not helping. What next? New doctor?

Coming from the speakers: All apologies by Nirvana.

Blue Butterfly House

butterfly_house


I have added the blue butterflies, but the house is from September 2004. I am satisfying my eyes with greens from last year until the new greens start coming out for this year. My eyes are tired of the brown/gray and the mud.

Yesterday was the Power of the Pen regional meet in Wadsworth, Ohio. My daughter said that some parents were driving their own vehicles and we are to meet at the school at seven A.M. I arrived about two minutes after and the coach (the young blonde who reeked of alcohol the last time) came over to me and asked me if I would be the lead car, because she said that if she went first she might forget that there were people following her.

Excuse me? Forget that people were following you? Are you sure you should be out in the real world, honey? Maybe you should be weaving a basket somewhere.

I was still bleary-eyed, barely had a clue as to where I was going, grabbed the map out of her super-soft manicured hands and said "Yeah, why not?" I am a 'take-charge' sort of person anyway. Especially around bimbos like her.

I drove up there as if I went there every day. Zip, zip, zoom, zoom. Bam, we were there. I was still bleary-eyed. I don't know why, but my eyes just would not quit watering that morning.

Meanwhile me and another parent got swindled into tabbing, again. Two of Miss Bimbo's friends tricked us into tabbing while they took off for the Outlet mall. They were so slick and sly, it left us shaking our heads in disbelief asking ourselves 'What just happened?' Just to find out that they were supposed to stick around because they were qualified to judge in case they were needed. (The other parent and I , were not qualified).

Well, that raised quite a stink, but it wasn't our fault. Unfortunately, our team would be penalized. The lady in charge called and complained and this and that, and me and the other parent were feeling kind of bad about it all. Then, we found out that the two swindlers had permission from somebody else and all was well.

During the ceremony, they awarded coaches who had been there 10, 12 and 15 years. These are women (and one man) who worked with their teams on a weekly or twice-weekly basis. Coaching the students how to write, what the judges would be looking for. What to expect when they get to the competition. To bring their own black pens for crying out loud. Our team, had not a clue.

My daughter told me that for two weeks the coach never showed up for practice because her boyfriend had broken up with her. Oh, great! I thought. Needless to say our team scored quite low. Probably off the charts. My daughter did get a high mark on one out of three stories. I told her how proud I was of her. And she still has track to look forward to. I only hope that the coach and/or coaches there know how to lead a team.

I watched Ray and my daughter and I watched The Forgotten. I have heard so much about Ray that the heroin use didn't surprise me. I was a bit skeptical about the forgiveness and acceptance that his wife demonstrated. She must be from the old school that says a man can have his harem as long as he comes home to me at the end of the tour. Bullshit.

There is a new breed of women emerging in the world and we are tired as hell of this crap. Step aside bimbos. My Mom used to say that this is a man's world. I would think to myself, 'Sure, as long as there are people in the world like you thinking that way.'

Coming from the speakers: Independence Day by Martina McBride.

Here I am with green hair

green_hair


Made ya look! My hair has been some different colors before, but I hope it has never looked green. That is a shamrock confetti pasted onto my forehead. I don't have any strange growths there or anything, nor do I practice any strange Eastern religions. Well, not that I know of anyway.

And, my eyebrows are in need of some serious waxing. The older I get, the lazier I get. Instead of spending my hard earned money on booze, I can splurge on waxings. Yay.

Tomorrow my daughter and I go to Wadsworth for Power of the Pen regionals. What a name - Wadsworth. How much is your wads worth? Okay, cut off my tap. And, I am only drinking ice water. It appears to be over and hour's drive for us. I guess I will print it out tonight. Nothing like waiting until the last minute.

I picked up some more movies tonight. Ray, The Forgotten and The Notebook again. My daughter wanted to watch it again. I think she just liked to watch them get naked. Or as much naked as PG-13 will allow.

I lost some sleep last night so I am hitting the hay early tonight. Over and out. 5:30 A.M. on a Saturday morning. Inhumane.

Coming from the speakers: Silence (yawn).

Calling all Leprechauns

shamrocks

One cute leprechaun at the Macaroni Grill for dinner. A family birthday party. For my brother who turned 63 today. 18 showed, two cancelled. Over an hour wait (with reservations). What can you do? It was St. Patrick's Day.

That sweet hostess gave us free appetizers because we had to wait so long. Quite nice.

I ordered iced tea because I was thirsty. Sinus/cold medicine will make you very thirsty. I ordered Penne Rustica. Someone ordered two bottles of red Pinot, of which I had one glass. I was driving. The chicken was succulent. There was shrimp and cheese and sauce mixed in with my penne pasta. I had a Caesar salad. And, to finish it off I ordered Tiramisu.

I ate maybe five bites.

What was wrong?

I had no sense of smell and no sense of taste! Damn, damn head cold!

It is all sitting in my refrigerator.

Oh, and what did my darling daughter order? One glass of white milk.

She is a real cheap date.

Total bill for the entire party? $291.00

Coming from the speakers: Nothing. It is bed time and everyone is sleeping, but me.

Orange poppies

poppies

I figure that orange flowers look the best against the gray background of my siding on my house. Blue is nice, too because the roofing has a blue tint to it. And, we all know how much I like blue. It was my Mom's favorite color, too. She was my hero.

I have Vicks VapoRub, Sudafed Sinus & Cold, and boxes of tissues. I go to the doctor tomorrow. I am sure my co-workers were not happy with me today. I was very, very sick at work. I normally would have stayed home in bed, but I did have some loose ends I wanted to tie up. Sorry co-workers. I do not think that I am indispensable. I am too old for that.

I am sitting here in my computer chair with the heating pad on my back. It makes my lungs feel so much better. I have slept with the heating pad for two nights, now. It automatically turns off after so long. I like that. I was never one to use an electric blanket. I was always too hot, but I have to admit, I love this heating pad.

I am starting to get Spring fever after seeing all the seeds in the stores. Flowers and stuff. I live in zone 5, almost zone 6, I think. So, I have to be careful. I think we have had frosts as late as the end of May. Some of my favorite flowers are tulips, lilacs, African daisies, hyacinths, white datura (moonflowers), tiger lily, and peonies. I have all of them except the hyacinths. I will have to get me some of them.

We watched the movie "The Notebook" and "Paparazzi". I liked both of them, although they weren't great movies. So many people told me that The Notebook was a real tearjerker. Sorry, I didn't shed a tear. And, Paparazzi was a bit of a shocker. Directed by Mel Gibson. And one of my favorite actors Dennis Farina.

My daughter started track practice. She loves it. My niece starts working at Pac Sun on Monday. They are both on top of the world, these days. I purchased a bunch of silk flowers and foliage and baskets so I can do some flower arranging. Let out my creativity. Great therapy. I don't have a card to The Flower Factory, so I do my shopping at Pat Catans, Michaels and JoAnn's. I could spend all my paycheck in all these stores.

Coming from the speakers: Patches by Dickie Lee

Ahhh Choo!

circles


One tissue two tissue
three tissues four
five tissues six tissues
seven tissues, I have no more

Chorus:

cough,
cough, cough
cough, cough, cough
I can't breathe!

Sniffly nose, sneezing
This is getting old
Swelled up sinuses
Stupid head cold!

Chorus:

cough,
cough, cough
cough, cough, cough
I still can't breathe!

Coming from the speakers: The Pretender by Jackson Browne

Umbraphiles

spheres

For my readers in the United States - where will you be on August 21, 2017? I know where I will be. I may decide to stay in Ohio and observe the phenomenon, or I may travel south for a birds eye view.

Why you ask? It is the next time that a full solar eclipse can be seen from the United States. And, it will be happening near my neck of the woods. So I want to be sure, I don't miss it. Twelve years away. I need to make my reservations.

http://sunearth.gsfc.nasa.gov/eclipse/SEcat/SEdecade2011.html

http://sunearth.gsfc.nasa.gov/eclipse/SEplot/SEplot2001/SE2017Aug21T.GIF

http://www.ecliptomaniacs.com/resources/future.htm

Did you pray?

I was at a cosmetic party on Sunday. I chatted with the fiance of a co-worker. She was a very sweet young girl of twenty. We were laughing at how her intended rarely gets angry. She told me that when he gets frustrated, she will ask him "Did you pray?"

And his answer would be something like "Why would I pray?"

Then she would respond with "Lord help him" and she said every time things would then work.

(smirk were my thoughts) But a smile was on my face. Okay.

So, she told me the next time he comes into my office obviously frustrated about something, I am to ask him "Did you pray?"

And, I thought, 'Okay. Is that before he prays for mercy on a small child getting abused or after he prays for the happy ending to a soldier looking for his lost comrade in Iraq?'

Call me a cynic, but aren't there more important things to be praying for than getting a network to connect in a small school in Eastern Ohio?

Talk about living in a paper-doll world!

Coming from the speakers: Come back when you grow up girl by Bobby Vee

Forgotten Door

white door


This is a door that seems to go nowhere. 'Watch out. That first step is a doozie!' Or, it could be an unattainable goal. 'I could do it, if I can just get that one door open.' It just seemed a bit forlorn up there on the side of a brick wall seeming to lead nowhere. Kind of like a mystery door or a forgotten door.

Every once in a while a friend will send me an email. A story that is so farfetched I have to chuckle. The first time they send something that is a hoax, I usually reply with some information on hoaxes and urban legends and give them the url to www.snopes.com.

When certain friends keep sending ridiculous emails that are quite definitely a hoax, I just smile and delete them. Wasted bandwidth, notwithstanding. One of my favorites was this one:

http://www.snopes.com/photos/signs/printer.asp

One that I received, that was actually true and is one of my favorites is:

http://www.snopes.com/photos/patriotic/iowarock.asp

Here is one that my friend actually believed and she was going to boycott the store:

http://www.snopes.com/politics/military/target.asp

I tried to explain to them that they really should check these things out before they jump to any conclusions.

Here is one that I am going to take care of today:

http://www.snopes.com/inboxer/household/dryer.asp

Here is the first one I ever saw in print on a bulletin board:

http://www.snopes.com/business/consumer/cookie.asp

There are many interesting articles to read at the snopes site. Some are so ridiculous that you wonder to yourself how do people actually believe this stuff?

And, some have such awesome pictures that are true it made me want to start sending them to all my friends. And then I had to laugh at myself. Silly girl. Go back to bed.

Ahhh, sweet, soft, comfortable bed. Sleep.

Coming from the speakers: Silence.

Old Buildings

quilt in the window


It sort of sounds like the lyrics to a song.

'There's a quilt in the window...'

During one of my road trips this week I stopped for lunch in a small, rural Ohio town. As I came back from the restaurant I noticed some unusual and old buildings. Since I had my camera in the car, I decided to record a little bit of history.

I like to study people when I am out in public. While having lunch, I noticed that most of the men were farmers. Much older men who drank a lot of coffee and smoked cigarettes. There were no young men. There is no work for them in the area, they probably have moved on.

There were women with too much rouge and too red of lipstick. Their skin was very pale in comparison and they ended up looking a bit clownish.

There were Mom's with small children. But mostly, there were old men. Talking about bygone days and the current condition of the economy. Looking at the pictures, I am thinking that maybe the economy ain't so good.

When I left the restaurant and walked towards my car, I noticed a tall, thin man walking down the sidewalk towards me. He was swaying back and forth as if he were drunk. He had a sort of light brown afro and I didn't get a good look at his face. I left the sidewalk for the parking lot to my car.

Here is a picture of the building I had lunch in. It houses a few establishments, all carved up into their own areas. I wonder if anyone uses the door to the fire escape.



Coming from the speakers: Life in a Northern Town by Dream Academy. One of my super favorites. Very appropriate for an economy in despair.

Spring has been cancelled

hyacinth


I bought a candle that smells like hyacinths. One of my favorite scents. Just looking at the picture can bring up the smell for me. If you have ever smelled the hyacinth before, I am sure you can imagine the smell, too.
Go ahead, you can do it.

Because, I hate to tell you but Spring has been cancelled this year. Yep. That's it. I have been reading many blogs and a lot of people are asking Where is spring" or "I am so tired of winter, already". Well, I hate to be the one to break it to you, but there will be NO Spring this year.

One day the cold wind will be whipping all around us and the next day we will just step right into summer. Jolt. At least we get to miss all the mud.

It appears as though the snow missed us once again. We are not closed. It is so wonderful to have a Friday as a snow day. It starts the week-end off on a positive and fun note. I am not sure if I like Friday snow days best or Monday snow days. That is a tough call. I guess Friday because on Monday you just wish that Tuesday would be a snow day, too. On Friday you hope the snow melts and you can start having fun early for the weekend.

Coming from the speakers: Silence is Golden, by nobody.

Country Roads

Another nice drive today. And, I will be back on the roads tomorrow (unless we get too much snowfall). The sky was not as dramatic as it was on Tuesday, so the pictures were more grounded. I do like the winding roads of rural Ohio and the striking scenery.

I started collecting little things for the girls' Easter baskets. They don't care for candy anymore, so I lean more towards make-up and art supplies. And, a little stuffed animal. Always a cute little stuffed animal. This year I found two cute, soft, fluffy lambs for their baskets. I will put one little white chocolate candy in each. Just because.

For me, it was a bag of the Reeses' peanut butter eggs. I just love those things. I have to hide them or my daughter and her friends will eat them all. Do you have goodies that you hide from your kids or other family members? My sister used to hide her Pepsi. I have done that myself. We rarely have pop in the house nowadays. I buy juice packs for my niece and my daughter's friends. For my daughter it is just plain white milk. And, for me - ice water. Yum! I love it.

My daughter's good friend had a big fight with her Mom tonight and she walked to our house. I was at the grocery store so I heard everything second hand. When I left the store, it was spitting snow and I felt bad for the girl. She is fourteen and walked over a mile to our house. I feel bad for the Mom too, because I have been there. Just last week my daughter was going to walk to her house because we were fighting.

I get to go out to eat here next week for a family member's birthday bash. I am trying to get my daughter to go with me. She just doesn't like to eat out at nice restaurants. All she ever wants is a cheeseburger and chicken nuggets. I guess I shouldn't complain. She is a cheap date. The last time she and I ate there she became ill and we ended up taking our food to go.

Sometimes useless and goofy information:

Did you know that tomorrow is Red Nose day?

Did you know that there is a town called Iditarod? Official webpage can be found here.

Did you know that as a child, me and my brother used to play with the mercury out of a thermometer? Yes. We rolled it around in a big white bowl. I don't recall if we ever touched it with our fingers, but I think we did. We used to watch it bead and then bond back together. Knowing me and my brother, that may explain a lot. And, it may be why we both liked the song I have listed below.

Coming from the speakers: Tennessee Bird Walk by Jack Blanchard and Misty Morgan. "Birds are walkin' 'round in their dirty underwear...."

Where slim jims come from

cloudburst

Another sky picture from my road trip yesterday.

I came home for lunch and re-heated Sunday's lunch. Blech. I overcooked the corn dog in the microwave and now I know where slim jims come from.

I gave the corn dog to the dog and chowed on one of these. Only in the egg shaped. Yum, yum.

Coming from the speakers: Gloria by Laura Brannigan.

My own personal sky light

sky light


Well, I don't have one in my house, so I had to go out and find one. I drove a good distance today and took my camera along. At one point the snow is flying at me fast and furious and after about forty miles I have sunshine and blue skies.

Broadband Constipation. I am about ready to boot-kick my cable modem through the big glass window of Adelphia. They can't go out of business fast enough for me. Or, maybe it is just Microsoft's Internet Explorer. Firefox is much quicker. IE sits and spins. The blog spell checking utility spit out the word 'constipation'. And IE is saying it can't find www.dictionary.com. WTF? Second try, it finds it. For crying out loud! Pull yourself together IE!

I watched Friday Night Lights. Tim McGraw is just plain (dare I say it?) ugly. Okay, I said it. Yikes. I didn't even know it was him until I read the dvd case during the movie. Okay, this is where I saw the actor, Lucas Black, before. Flash. I didn't care for him in that movie, either.

I understand why they made the movie. The agony of defeat. Whoops, I gave away the ending.

Coming from the speakers: Sylvia's Mother by Dr. Hook

The ugly side of spring

busch beer

I snapped this shot behind my neighbor's back yard. Between the yard and the alley I was chasing a camera-shy black squirrel in the trees. Once the snow melts one can see all the debris left over from the long winter.

I'm thirsty. Anybody else thirsty?

Coming from the speakers: Fire on the Mountain by Marshall Tucker.

Hair color?

Picture it. The year was 1980. Give or take a year. I was working as a secretary (wince) in an Automotive/Hardware store. We sold fishing licenses. I had an office in the back of the building with a glass window. One with the little circle cut out for talking to customers through.

I was young, overworked and underpaid. A gentleman came back and barked through the glass, "Is this where I buy a fishin' license?"

I mumbled affirmative and walked around my desk to the drawer with the little tackle box. (How appropriate).

I placed the carbon between the sheets. Not looking up at the man I started asking the long line of questions. Name, address, age, blah, blah, blah.

Eye color - "some answer I don't recall"

Hair color - silence.

A little louder - HAIR COLOR - silence.

Sigh. HAIR COLOR!????? - silence.

Deep breath on my part. One more time. Purse the lips like a spinster librarian. Clenched teeth. H-A-I-R C-O-L-O-R! - silence.

Finally, I look up. He was bald. No hair. I felt like a shit, but I was good at not showing it. Christ, I was such a prude back then.

I wrote down the only thing I could think of.

bald.

***************************************************************************

Another picture from yesterday.

Sunburst through the trees.



And, this big baby won't let me alone for one minute.
She is such an attention hog.

Me, me, me! So, here she is in all her wonderful glory.
'Rolling in clover' so to speak.

Our Sable.



No need to wonder what she is thinking.

'After this, I get a treat, right?'

Coming from the speakers: You're kidding, right? It's not even 5 a.m.!

Blue on blue

blue dogwood bud


Walking outside today and looking for signs of Spring. My dogwood will bloom in about two months, give or take a week. I did not touch the sky with any software program. This is straight from my Canon S50. I did add the frame. Blue on blue.

Man, I had a hard time getting this picture to post. I may not be patient but I am persistent. I used to add to the old saying 'patience is a virtue' with my version:

'patience is a virtue and I have neither'.

I baked two loaves of banana bread today. One with walnuts and one without. The one without didn't bake all the way through. That's my daughter's. She will just have to eat around the goo. I put both loafs in at the same time. Mental note to myself: glass loaf pan needs another five.

I watched 'The Hours' with Kidman, Streep and Moore. Powerful, but really didn't interest me. I guess the message was how stifled homosexuality was for women of the past. How they would rather die than live in the closet. And, today how much easier it is for gay women to live a normal life among society, but still they are touched with the sadness of loved ones dealing with death (aids). I honestly don't know any women homosexuals. I'm not even sure I know any males.

Can you believe that? I'll be forty-five in May. I suspect some men are, but they don't say they are or live like they are. When I was seventeen I worked for a lady veterinarian. There were rumors that she and her assistant were gay. They lived together. I didn't care. She was very mean to me. I didn't like her, but not because she was gay. And, not because she was very, very German. At that time, I thought my ancestors came from Germany, too. It was soon after that I found out it was actually Austria.

My daughter and niece say that the school is full of them. They are everywhere, they say. Holding hands, kissing on the sidewalks after school and before. Hmmm. I don't see any blacks or Orientals or Hispanics, either. But, they are there. They are all over. Have I reached the pinnacle of not seeing people as different? But, rather as just what they are - people? All peoples blended together. Is it possible that I am completely unbiased? Is any one completely unbiased about everything?

Have you ever told a joke that would be considered prejudiced? Do 'dumb blonde' jokes bother you? Long ago, there were many incorrect jokes flying around. My sister has been married to her husband longer than she lived inside my family unit. She, I think, is more or less brainwashed from her husband's version of life. She married him at twenty-one and has been married to him for thirty years. I think she dated him for two years, so she has been exposed to his outlook for thirty-two years. And back in that day, thirty years ago - people did say off-color jokes. Remember Archie Bunker on 'All in the Family'? That is where I learned the expression 'jungle bunny'.

Coming from the speakers: Me and you and a dog named Boo.