Thanksgiving.
S'posed to take time to be Thankful for what ya got, and Thank 'bout all the Thangs y'all is Thankful fo. I Think......
We will welcome our eighth----oh yeah, we have SEVEN----grandchild into the world in the summer. I'm Thankful for the little ones they Gladden MY Heart, and fill me with Joy. Watching their parents, our now-supposedly-grown children, pull their hair out and weep in frustration is pure gravy, My Friends. Pass me a biscuit.
My Musician Hubby has been in his Musician Cave, working on a new song, and calling me to come listen. Every. Thirty. Minutes. You don't know how Thankful I am for today's technology when it comes to music equipment. He uses headphones and has it set up to where I can't hear him usually if he's not doing vocals. Unless he asks me to come in and put on the headphones. Every. Thirty. Minutes. I'm Thankful he's home with me, and that he wants to be here. Nothing worse than sharing space with someone who would rather be elsewhere, and with someone else. Trust me on this one.
The washroom at the office flooded several days ago, and you know who makes the call, drags everything out of the room for the repairman, lugs the carpet runner out to dry in the barn (in the rain, no less), and mops up the quarter inch of H2O on the floor? The same slob that's gonna make two trips a day across town for the entire Thanksgiving Holiday----four days----caring for a geriatric retriever. In freezing weather. More if it rains. I ain't gonna bitch too much because I'm Thankful to have a job, and the Brownie Points I'll get for this will come in handy.
Had to plunk down $75.00 for a load of firewood and that had to be hauled to the back yard and stacked. I'm Thankful they started putting fireplaces in trailers, a Trailer Trash Dream Come True if there ever was one!
I had to go to three different stores to get the ingredients for Slick's Famous Chicken And Dressing for Thanksgiving dinner. I will be swamped with kids and grandkids, in-laws, and out-laws. I won't just go to bed Thursday night, I'll fall into it. This year, my daughter is throwing this gig at HER house, and all I have to cook is one dish? HER house will be trashed, not MINE? Thankful? OH YEAH!!!!
I hope you have a wonderful Thanksgiving. Laugh too much. Eat too much. Love too much, if you can.
Wednesday, November 27, 2013
Tuesday, November 12, 2013
Hands In Pockets, Mouths CLOSED
A few years ago I heard this on our scanner:
Dispatcher: "We need a couple of units to go out to the cemetery. A fight started up at a service at the funeral home and the family is afraid it's gonna start back up at graveside."
Tsk, tsk, tsk. The one time you'd think a family would pull together......it takes the police department to keep 'em apart.
That's a lack of Home Trainin' right there.
In my very best Redneck let me say: "You don't be belongin' to fight at no graveside!"
Translation: Don't fight at the damned funeral.
Fighting at a funeral is just ignorant. That's what the viewing is for.
When my mother passed away, my ex-brother-in-law used the viewing to beg my sister to let him move back into the house. Had he not been drunk---the very reason for the divorce--- and swaying back and forth on his pins when he made his pitch (beside Mama's coffin) with beer on his breath he might have fared better than he did. He wouldn't have gotten her back, but he wouldn't have been cussed out quite as badly.
When she saw him carrying Mama to the hole as pallbearer the following morning it pissed her off to The Highest Point of Pissitivity and I thought it would come to blows after the last "Amen". I felt a disturbance in The Force.
She nailed Daddy at the earliest available moment.....right after the last "Amen". Daddy explained that he himself had asked the man to be a pallbearer, and that's the only reason he lived to drink another day.
The funeral for Sonny's girlfriend's mother was last week, and I knew from the viewing it could go badly.
My son's girlfriend is the mother of my youngest daughter's husband. Son and Youngest are not particularly well thought of by the family of The Deceased. Sonny is disliked entirely and Youngest is almost level with her brother in that regard.
And both of them were going to be at the funeral.
While I was reasonably sure that I had covered all of the basic Thou-Shall-Nots during THEIR Home Trainin', well, you just never know.
"Please, Lord, keep their hands in their pockets and their mouths closed" was my mantra for the day.
I posted the following video because sometimes, ya just gotta lighten up. Even for funerals.
Dispatcher: "We need a couple of units to go out to the cemetery. A fight started up at a service at the funeral home and the family is afraid it's gonna start back up at graveside."
Tsk, tsk, tsk. The one time you'd think a family would pull together......it takes the police department to keep 'em apart.
That's a lack of Home Trainin' right there.
In my very best Redneck let me say: "You don't be belongin' to fight at no graveside!"
Translation: Don't fight at the damned funeral.
Fighting at a funeral is just ignorant. That's what the viewing is for.
When my mother passed away, my ex-brother-in-law used the viewing to beg my sister to let him move back into the house. Had he not been drunk---the very reason for the divorce--- and swaying back and forth on his pins when he made his pitch (beside Mama's coffin) with beer on his breath he might have fared better than he did. He wouldn't have gotten her back, but he wouldn't have been cussed out quite as badly.
When she saw him carrying Mama to the hole as pallbearer the following morning it pissed her off to The Highest Point of Pissitivity and I thought it would come to blows after the last "Amen". I felt a disturbance in The Force.
She nailed Daddy at the earliest available moment.....right after the last "Amen". Daddy explained that he himself had asked the man to be a pallbearer, and that's the only reason he lived to drink another day.
The funeral for Sonny's girlfriend's mother was last week, and I knew from the viewing it could go badly.
My son's girlfriend is the mother of my youngest daughter's husband. Son and Youngest are not particularly well thought of by the family of The Deceased. Sonny is disliked entirely and Youngest is almost level with her brother in that regard.
And both of them were going to be at the funeral.
While I was reasonably sure that I had covered all of the basic Thou-Shall-Nots during THEIR Home Trainin', well, you just never know.
"Please, Lord, keep their hands in their pockets and their mouths closed" was my mantra for the day.
I posted the following video because sometimes, ya just gotta lighten up. Even for funerals.
Thursday, October 31, 2013
A Story For Halloween
It happened about forty years ago.
Two young brothers had walked a couple of miles into town to go to the show. That's what we called going to the theater to watch movies back then.
Nobody was coming in the family car to drive them home, so when the movie was over they started the long trek back home. But they were young, and what's a couple of miles when you're a kid?
They didn't fear the dark---they were too old for THAT, only babies were scared of the dark---and they were walking down a road they had walked many, many times before.
The night was clear and crisp. They had left the lights of town behind and were talkin' about the movie they had seen.
During a lull in the conversation, they heard a sound. A kind of swishy sound.
They stopped.
Silence.
Weird.........
They started walking again. The sound started again.
Footsteps????
They looked behind them but couldn't see anything but the road. It was dark and they couldn't see anything in the woods on either side of the road.
Now, when you are way out in the country where there are no city or farm lights, the night is as dark as the inside of a felt hat. It can be black as pitch. The only light is moonlight. If the moon is out.
Was it an animal? Being country boys, they knew what was in the woods around their house. They had hunted and fished there all their young lives.
Deer don't follow you around as a rule. Most other animals would either remain still or run away from man.
Coyotes? Well, maybe, but you can hear a pack of those when you're standing dead still, listening for them.
Could a panther be stalking them?
The only sound was the sound of their own breathing.
They were beginning to feel the fear. Just a little bit.
They began to walk again, a little faster.
The strange sound started again.
A ghost??? Ghosts aren't real...........are they??
Home is still a long ways off. It's still dark, and whatever it is is keeping up with them. Unseen.
The faster they walk, the faster IT walked. If they stopped, IT stopped.
When the last of the bravado failed, they RAN for it. Bravery be damned!
IT, whatever it was, was keeping pace, and IT chased them all the way down the road. They ran faster and faster.
Finally, they saw the lights of their house! But IT was STILL there, chasing them across the yard, and IT was still coming when they ran across the porch and burst through their front door.
They collapsed in the living room floor, gasping for breath and scared to death. Crying.
Their parents had heard them pounding across the porch and it sounded as if they tore the door off of the hinges. They tried to calm them down enough to find out what had happened.
Were they hurt?? Was there an accident of some sort??? An emergency of some kind, maybe? Were they in some sort of trouble?? Was someone after them??
When they finally caught their breath and saw that they were safe, they got up, still shaking.
But...............
THERE IT WAS AGAIN!!! THE SOUND!!!! OH MY GOD, IT WAS IN THE HOUSE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Of course it was in the house. It had been with them all day.
It was the brand-new corduroy pants that they had just gotten. Caught up in the excitement of new clothes and going to see a movie---rare treats indeed--- they never noticed the sound that the new, stiff material made when they walked. The sound material makes when your thighs rub together as you walk.
I got that story years ago from one of those two brothers. He said that if the front door had been locked he would have died on the front porch from fear.
Always remember that the worst fright of your life may be the one you create for yourself!
Two young brothers had walked a couple of miles into town to go to the show. That's what we called going to the theater to watch movies back then.
Nobody was coming in the family car to drive them home, so when the movie was over they started the long trek back home. But they were young, and what's a couple of miles when you're a kid?
They didn't fear the dark---they were too old for THAT, only babies were scared of the dark---and they were walking down a road they had walked many, many times before.
The night was clear and crisp. They had left the lights of town behind and were talkin' about the movie they had seen.
During a lull in the conversation, they heard a sound. A kind of swishy sound.
They stopped.
Silence.
Weird.........
They started walking again. The sound started again.
Footsteps????
They looked behind them but couldn't see anything but the road. It was dark and they couldn't see anything in the woods on either side of the road.
Now, when you are way out in the country where there are no city or farm lights, the night is as dark as the inside of a felt hat. It can be black as pitch. The only light is moonlight. If the moon is out.
Was it an animal? Being country boys, they knew what was in the woods around their house. They had hunted and fished there all their young lives.
Deer don't follow you around as a rule. Most other animals would either remain still or run away from man.
Coyotes? Well, maybe, but you can hear a pack of those when you're standing dead still, listening for them.
Could a panther be stalking them?
The only sound was the sound of their own breathing.
They were beginning to feel the fear. Just a little bit.
They began to walk again, a little faster.
The strange sound started again.
A ghost??? Ghosts aren't real...........are they??
Home is still a long ways off. It's still dark, and whatever it is is keeping up with them. Unseen.
The faster they walk, the faster IT walked. If they stopped, IT stopped.
When the last of the bravado failed, they RAN for it. Bravery be damned!
IT, whatever it was, was keeping pace, and IT chased them all the way down the road. They ran faster and faster.
Finally, they saw the lights of their house! But IT was STILL there, chasing them across the yard, and IT was still coming when they ran across the porch and burst through their front door.
They collapsed in the living room floor, gasping for breath and scared to death. Crying.
Their parents had heard them pounding across the porch and it sounded as if they tore the door off of the hinges. They tried to calm them down enough to find out what had happened.
Were they hurt?? Was there an accident of some sort??? An emergency of some kind, maybe? Were they in some sort of trouble?? Was someone after them??
When they finally caught their breath and saw that they were safe, they got up, still shaking.
But...............
THERE IT WAS AGAIN!!! THE SOUND!!!! OH MY GOD, IT WAS IN THE HOUSE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Of course it was in the house. It had been with them all day.
It was the brand-new corduroy pants that they had just gotten. Caught up in the excitement of new clothes and going to see a movie---rare treats indeed--- they never noticed the sound that the new, stiff material made when they walked. The sound material makes when your thighs rub together as you walk.
I got that story years ago from one of those two brothers. He said that if the front door had been locked he would have died on the front porch from fear.
Always remember that the worst fright of your life may be the one you create for yourself!
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