Happy New Year

Wow, another year.  They say time flies, the older you are, the faster it flies.  Well, I am at "Warp 7". (if there is such a warp).

I have already advised my family and friends that I do not intend on having a birthday this year.  If I were to have one, tomorrow would be the day.  But, nope.  I do not like the number assigned to me this year. (70).  I can count on one hand the number of people I know who have lived through their 70's.  Scary decade.  So, I'm just not gonna do it.

As for tonight, New Year's Eve, I'm sure I will be in bed long before the neighbors begin shooting off their fireworks.  (another old-age sign, I know).

Fifty years ago I could never have dreamed up the contraptions that I have in my life now.  I was 20, expecting my first child (welcome, Lori), and Ron (my hubby) and I lived in an upstairs apartment in one of the not-so-nice parts of Columbus, Ohio. 

Some other things I remember:

The milkman delivered milk and when we weren't home he brought it up and put it in the fridge for us. 

The closets in our apartment were only about 8 inches deep.  There was a board nailed across just above eye level that had hooks on it to hang your clothes on.

Our TV (we thought it was huge) was about 14" and all three channels were either black and white or  static.  Stoney Burke was my favorite show.

I had never used a seat belt in a car.

I did not have a driver's license.  The city bus took you anywhere you wanted to go (if you remembered to get the right transfers when boarding).

I worked in an office downtown that had all the modern conveniences.  I remember punching the numbers in on an adding machine and then pulling the handle down to make it add (and it also printed onto a tape so you could double check your numbers and keep it for a souvenir).  When you typed on the typewriter, you had to slam the carriage back to the left to start a new line.  When you made a mistake, you used an eraser (always left a mark) to try to get rid of the error.

And it goes on and on, as do I.

Christmas 2012

This was a sad Christmas as it was my first Christmas without mom.  Mom passed away on November 23rd, just six days after her 98th birthday.  She was had senile dementia, so she was not as sharp as I like to remember her.  But she always knew who I was and that meant so much to me.  It is so sad that such a short time ago she was a vibrant, witty person who, though tiny, was looked up to by so many.

Otherwise, it was a nice Christmas with many firsts. Great grand-daughter, Brandi, and great-grandson, Cameron, celebrated their first Christmas.  Grandson Bobby and his wife Courtney, celebrated their first Christmas as a married couple, as did Granddaughter Jamie and her husband Jake.

We had (what is becoming tradition, it seems as this is the second year we did this) breakfast at Lori and Tom's, and then opened gifts from each other.  Everybody got "just what they wanted" and all went home happy.  One more sad note, Tom was sick with the flu and was unable to join us.  So sorry for that.

We had Christmas dinner at Jimmy and Rochelle LaPoint's home (grandson Bobby's wife Courtney's parents).  It was a beautiful dinner and, wow, what a crowd.  I could never have pulled that one off.  Hat's off to Rochelle and Jimmy.  Great job.

Publix ...Can't like their Pecan Danish Rings

I have been shopping at Publix off and on now for a couple of years (since my favorite store, Albertsons, sold out to them). During that time I have noticed that even though they carry Entenmann's products, they do not have any that they sell their own brand of in their bakery. Such as, Pecan Danish Ring. I love the Pecan Danish Ring from Entenmann's and have never seen one in our store. They always have them "freshly" made in the bakery. But to be honest, they taste really crappy, actually have a kind of burned flavor, not sure, but it is shameful that this is the only pecan ring that Publix offers. Just sayin!

Election Blues

I'm getting really tired of all the ads from Obama and Romney. I have already voted by mail so anything they say to me at this point is moot. I especially hate the ads by Obama, because he is not the one I voted for. I look at his picture and I see hate in his eyes. It seems like he hates his job, hates talking to people, (at least Americans) and entitlement. Does he believe he is entitled to spend trillions of American dollars or does he really feel he is doing the right thing? I pray enough people vote for Romney to get that pompous butthead and his condescending, money wasting, sneering, wife out of the White House.

Sometimes I shouldn't be me.

	Sometimes it doesn't pay to be me. I have a good knack for pissing people off.  That is what I did last night. My son-in-law had driven across my yard with his boat (he uses my yard because he doesn't want to tear up his grass).  Now, I admit that I don't have the nicest lawn in town. I cannot afford sprays, chemicals, sod, etc. So my lawn looks pretty crappy even without the ruts. But it bothered me. I waited a week and then when I was visiting my daughter and son-in-laws house I made the horrible mistake of mentioning it. Probably not the best thing to do. The conversation started like this: Me: So, when are you going to fix the mud ruts you left in my back yard? Him: I'm not. It's just dirt. From that point it just got loud and ugly. He stomped on the floor, yelled at me, "Don't you ever fucking come to my house again" and then stormed out of the house. I stood to leave, my daughter says "Sit back down" and then proceeds to tell me that for 20 years I have been disrespectful of son-in-law. Also said that they had been talking about getting my sprinkler system fixed and do some work on my yard. Yet no one had bothered to inform me of this which probably would have prevented the above mentioned altercation. As I walked out the door I was told (by son-in-law) "don't let the door slam you in the ass as your leaving". I sent each of them an e-mail apology, which he acknowledged. So guess now it is over. I wish I lived anywhere but here. Or maybe I have just lived long enough. I am very depressed at this moment. I am going to miss them, especially my daughter. She is my life. I feel so much pain right now.		draft		8:55:00 AM	by Just Sayin	Delete
	Edit	View	Why me?

Why me?

Why am I chosen for "Door to Door Let Me Share My Religion With You" service?  Seems like this happens a couple of times a month.  These people, really quite nice, normal looking people, drive into my driveway, get out of their car and ring my doorbell.  They merely want to share their religious views with me.  I courteously tell them I am not interested and advise them to have a nice day.  They return the sentiments and go on their way.  But why me?  They are not going door to door.  They drive to my home.  When they leave, they do not go to my neighbors.  They drive away and out of sight.  So again, why me?  Has some little do-gooder scribbled my address on a bathroom wall?    Why does it bother me?  Well, here in a very large nutshell is what I have to do to answer that doorbell ring.

 1.  Secure the needle with which I am cross stitching with.
 2.  Remove scissors and pincushion from arm of chair.
 3.  Set aside my stitching.
 4.  Put my pattern book on table next to chair.
 5.  Put not one but 2 small pillows (used to prop pattern) on table next to chair.
 6.  Turn off light board.  (used to light up stitching fabric from behind to make it easier for old eyes to    see).
 7.  Remove light board from lap and stand on end next to chair.
 8.  Put third small pillow (used to prop light board) on table next to chair.
 9.  Remove readers from end of nose (again, the old eyes thing) and put them on the table next to chair.
10.  Put recliner footrest down (this is extremely challenging for me as my arms are as old and as weak as my eyes).
11.  Climb out of my over sized chair.
12.  Open door just in time to see the two sweet ladies walking away, but upon hearing my door open,  they quickly return to my doorstep with pamphlet in outstretched hands.

So, just sayin, if whomever is scribbling my address on bathroom walls would just quit doing so, I would be forever grateful.