#73-SUNDAY'S SONG (I BELIEVE - Natalie Grant)

This IS a beautiful song and so inspiring when sung by Natalie Grant.  I love the way Christian music has changed over the years.  I listen to the Christian station K-Love every day so I can be filled with songs that touch my heart and mind. These songs feed me with words that nourish my soul.  They express my beliefs in ways I can not.   They make me smile inside and out.  kt2010

#72-SURPRISED KITTY

I ABSOLUTELY   L  O  V  E   CATS!



THIS IS MY VERY FAVORITE YOU TUBE VIDEO!  There are other ones on this site so be sure you go to the Panda.  It is my #2 favorite.  However, you go to the others at your own risk.  There is one on there called "I'm a kitty cat," that is very annoying.


BE SURE TO READ #75 (12/21) AND #80 (12/26).  They are my only Christmas stories.


kt2010

#71-FRIDAY FLASHBACK (Poor Kid Wasn't Even a Little Bit Country - 3)

This is a true story about my 10-year-old daughter, Patty, and her problems adjusting from life in Los Angeles to living in the small rural town of Lamar, MO.  (reprint of #16)

Our first Easter in Lamar, I bought 6 bantam chickens for Patty and her brother.  There were four females and two roosters.  Both kids were delighted with the chicks and helped raise them.  That first winter was a cold one and we did not have a heater in the chicken pen so we moved them into the kitchen.  I found a large box at the furniture store and set up a home away from home for our charges. 

The young chickens had all the comforts of home.  We stuck rods through the cardboard sides for them to roost upon.  Water and plenty of food was deposited in jar lids.  We even cut out little doors so we could peek in on them.                       

One day I heard a big ruckus coming from the box.  I peeked in to see what they were all frazzled about.  They seemed to be attending to one particular chick, named Henrietta.  I watched intently as she finally deposited one tiny egg in the straw.  When I called Patty and showed her the egg she was enthralled.

The next afternoon they started up another hullabaloo so I ran and got Patty so she could watch.  This time it was Peepers, Patty’s favorite, which was doing her dance.  We watched and then there it was lying in the straw.

Patty, gasped, stomped out of the kitchen and slammed the door to her room.

I knocked on her door, went into her room, and asked her what was wrong.

Patty, replied in a disgusted voice, “Did you see where that egg came from?  I’m NEVER eating eggs again!”  To myself I thought, “Wonder what she will refuse to eat when I let the eggs hatch?”

I also wondered how long it would take a 10 year old child to starve to death?

For other stories about mu daughter's adjustment to life in a rural town see numbers 54 # 67. 

kt 2010

#70-THURSDAY'S PICK (April)

I love reading people's comments.  Therefore, I have decided to pick a comment each Thrusday to post.

Of course this will fall FLAT if you guys aren't making comments!

TODAY'S PICK:  To #22 April said...

"Wow! You are accident prone, but maybe it is all that home improvement. If you were lazy and cheap like me you would only have to worry about duct tape injuries!"

Ok,  is it DUCK tape or DUCT tape?
Or is it the duck, is duct taped?

THINK ABOUT IT!  CAN YOU IMAGINE ALL THE TROUBLE I HAVE GOTTEN INTO WITH DUCK/DUCT TAPE?   Once I duct taped the front doors of a car together so they wouldn't open.  All I had to do was to run duct tape trough the arm rest of the right door (back in the days there was an opening in them) then go to the left door and do the same.  Next join the tape up in the middle.  Slip out the back door and voila'!  When the person tries to open the door it won't budge far.  This messes with their mind for a while (and in this case elicited some interesting words).  Finally, they figured out what had been done and got in through the back door.  Yep, guilty of a practical joke on a friend who had played one on me the week before.

kt 2010

#69-MOTHER KNOWS BEST

Maida Taylor
at age 88

My mother (God rest her soul) coined this phrase: 

                  “The whole world conspires to annoy me!”

When I watch the news or pick up a newspaper I REALLY identify with her words.




kt 2010   (Miss you Mama!)

#68-WHAT'S WHOOPEE ANYWAY?

"One of my friends (Clenna) sent me this and I enjoyed a big lol because I was thinking along similar lines. I say similar because I might resort to this "IF" I could choose which person got to pat me down.  Then I had multiple, consecutive flashbacks of the times I went thought the security line and the individuals who were there manning those lines.  NOPE!  Don't remember a single one that tripped my trigger, floated my boat, or even tickled my fancy.

You see, I have been divorced (from my 2nd husband) for 40 years and haven't even had a date since 1976 (let alone any whoopee.....  yes, whoopee, remember this is a "G" rated blog).  I looked back at my life and wondered, "How did that happen?"  I really thought I would remarry after my second divorce.  Yes, you read right (both times).  I didn't mistype  "2nd" and that, dear friends, is another story. 

Well, after my last divorce my children were young and I just couldn't face the prospect of reentering the dating game.
              "But,"  I said to myself, " I do miss the whoopee."


When my children got a little older I lived in Los Angeles and I didn't like what I saw out there.  Dating could be dangerous.
              I said to myself, "I  can live without whoopee."


Then I moved to a small town in Missouri I found that there were no suiters available, at least any in which I was interested.  The only good ones were already taken and the others had to be drug out of the gutter and cleaned up.
          At this point I said to myself, "I don't want whoopee that bad!"


When the kids started moving out and away, I thought that maybe it was time for me to remarry.  However, I didn't want to marry someone only to have to nurse him for the rest of my life.
          I said to myself, "Big deal, whoopee is over rated."


Now that I am retired I realized that if I found someone now, I wouldn't be able to get naked (or for that matter see him naked).
          I said to myself, "Hey, old gal, you don't even want whoopee!"


So, here I sit, typing this blog.  I have few major interactions with the world.  Therefore, I understand this cartoon completely.
          So, I say to myself, "Well.  So this is what WHOOPEE has become!"  Oh, well, maybe I'll get lucky on my next flight to the East Coast! 

POST SCRIPT: Currently, I am taking care of my 99 year old father.  There is some IRONY in that isn't there?  I did not remarry, but the end game is the same as I am taking care of an old man who I have to give baths!

2010 kt

#67-A TEACHER'S SWEET REWARDS

I am a retired teacher and most of my students were 9th and 10th grade boys with learning disabilities and/or behavior disorders.  They often did not want to do their work (go figure).  Normal discipline measures didn't work with these kids so I had to come up with NONTRADITIONAL ways.  For example I had a young man who was refusing to work, as usual.  It was time to try one of my new techniques.  When this student started his regular routine I simply told him, "If you do not complete your work I will sit beside you and sing!"

Well, no surprise, he still refused.  So, I began to loudly belt out a TERRIBLE rendition of a popular song at the time.  I embellished with all the theatrical arm and facial movements of an opera diva.  

This student immediately put his hands up in surrender and said, “Ok, Ms. "T", I’ll work!”

However, this is not the best part of the story.  A young man that I had been trying to coax out of his shell (for most of the year) launched himself from his desk and headed for the door.  This kid was usually overly compliant and extremely quiet ( I'll call him Bobbie).

I said, “Hey, Bobbie!  Where are you going?”

Bobbie turned and calmly replied, “Well, the fat lady sang; so class must be over!”

         [Sidebar:  I AM NOT FAT!  As my mother used to say, "Ewe's just fluffy."]

I could have responded with outrage, but no, Bobbie just proved that I was right about him.  He was a bright, funny, young man who trusted that I would not take his head off (like some teachers).  The whole class, and I, erupted in peals of laughter.

Sometimes rewards are slow in coming, and often disguised, but that makes the one you do get all the sweeter!  (See #28 for another teaching trick).

kt 2010

#66-SUNDAY'S SONG (Legacy)

I OFTEN WONDER WHAT KIND OF LEGACY I WILL  BE LEAVING MY CHILDREN AND GRANDCHILDREN.  I HOPE IT IS ONE FILLED WITH LOVE, HUMOR,  JOY, FAITH, AND THE KNOWLEDGE THAT I WALKED DAILY WITH THE LORD, STUMBLED OFTEN, BUT GOT UP (WITH HIS HELP) TO CONTINUE THE ADVENTURE.  A CHRISTIAN DOES NOT HAVE TO BE PERFECT,  BUT WANT TO ACHIEVE THAT KIND OF PERFECTION, IN HIM.

#65-CRAZY DAISY

Up I go!

Where'd they go?

 In the mid 70s my kids and I adopted a dog from the pound.  She was a goofy little Rat Terrier we named Daisy Mae (Beverly Hillbillies influence).  Daisy was the PERFECT dog for kids.  She was a real clown, full of too much energy, and was always doing amazingly silly things.

     We had several apple trees in the back yard and, Daisy, in pursuit of squirrels (who teased her endlessly), would jump into the first crotch (ok, maybe not the correct term) and work her way up into the tree after them.  We would find her perched on a narrow branch, doing her balancing act, and  barking wildly at one of her nemeses.  She did fall out SEVERAL times but this did not deter her efforts.  The amazing thing is that she would often curl her front leg and paw around a branch to pull herself up. 

     Once, I observed Daisy trotting to the back of the yard only to spin around and run, like a maniac (nose stretched out, ears flying) straight toward the big oak tree.  About the time I thought she was going to crash and burn, she ran right up the side.  It was then that I realized that she was trying for the squirrel feeder over six feet off the ground.

     A day or so later I looked out the kitchen window and saw Daisy sitting on the feeder looking up into the humongous oak tree.  I guess she was trying to figure out how to get higher.  It wasn’t too long before she provided us with a big laugh.  The old feeder (with Daisy on board) broke and came crashing to the ground.  However, undaunted by her experience she still ran up the tree daily (but couldn’t seem to reach the lowest branch which was about 50 feet off the ground). 

Do you know what you're doin?

Guess whose winning?

     Daisy loved the kids.  We took her with us when we went to the lake.  The nut would try to catch the mailboxes as we flew by down the country road.  When my son swam under water, so did she!  

     When the kid did anything Daisy was right there.In fact everything my kids did was a cause for joyful celebration by Daisy.  An example of this is when I heard a funny noise in the front room.  There was a “sloughing” sound followed by two kids giggling then by hysterical laughter.  When I stepped into the room and asked what was going on my son demonstrated.  He placed a large hand around daisy’s muzzle, put his mouth to an opening left around his thumb, then blew.  The result was the flapping of Daisy’s lips close to the corners of her mouth (and of course the weird noise).  Daisy kept going back for more.

Shoot it!  Shoot it!

     Daisy, also, loved to retreive things.  We had a gun like toy that shot out Hot Wheels and Daisy would retrieve the cars and bring them right back.  She would stand there prancing, look at the gun, then look off across the room.  There was no mistaking her message.

Yummmmm!

     Her first Christmas with us she learned to open her present.  The next Christmas she did it automaticallY, once it was given to her.  Oddly enough, she never opened it ahead of time (unlike my kids), and never bothered any other presents under the tree.

     Once in a while she would sneak food from the table (particularly corn on the cob).  Also, we occasionally had to extricate her from a deep hole in the ground where she dug herself into trouble going after a mole (wish I had a picture of that).   And, if that wasn’t enough,  I got a call from my neighbor across the street telling me to rescue my dog.  I found Daisy hanging from our fence by her collar. 

     How did we ever get to lucky to find such a great dog? 

kt2010

#64-FRIDAY FLASHBACKS (Poor Kid Wasn't Even A Little Bit Country #2)

This is a true story about my 10-year-old daughter, Patty, and her problems adjusting from life in Los Angeles to living in the small rural town of Lamar, MO.  (reprint of #17)

One afternoon, my daughter, Patty, came STOMPING into the kitchen and exclaimed, “Someone is throwing things at me!”

Of course I was skeptical, but my daughter seemed to be very sure so I followed her into the yard.

She showed me where she was standing when an object had struck her on the back.  We walked around the yard and surrounding area.  Not even one hidden prankster could be found.  Satisfied, I went back into the house.

Minutes later she came flying back into the house.    

She was REALLY angry this time.  Patty was sputtering, pointing toward the back yard, and stomping her feet shouting,  “Someone IS out there!”.

So, we took off again for the back yard (which was about 3 acres of bushes, oak trees and brush).  Another complete search revealed no lurking ambushers.  As we were heading back to the house I heard a whizzing sound; like something flying through the air.  Then I heard an object hit the side of the garage.

Patty, (with hands on hips) glared at me and growled, “SEE!”

Then another object hit me on the head.  That was when I realized that the flying objects were acorns from this GIANT, 200 year old, oak tree which stood in the middle of our back yard.  Acorns would drop from a great height, careen off a branch and take off like a missile.

When the culprit was revealed, I laughed.  Patty just stomped into the house muttering something like, “I really hate it here!”

kt 2010

#63-THURSDAY'S PICK (jhitomi)

I love reading people's comments.  Therefore, I have decided to pick a comment each Thursday to post.


Of course this will fall FLAT if you guys aren't making comments!


Here is TODAY'S pick(s):


To #24 (Pussy Cat Perils) jthomi said...We used to have a cat who loved hunting and would bring us "gifts"...birds, moles, mice dead and alive.  She thought it was fun.  We lived in a rural area.  The funniest was when she brought us a slug, and it was the messiest goopiest prey; she never did it again.
 OK, SO IT'S NOT A SLUG!  GIVE ME A BREAK!


To #61 jthomi said...I always worry that if I died today everyone would see how messy the house is, as if that's more important than anything else.  Then I found out that my friend has the exact same fear!


As it happens, a lot of us do.  I go into a cleaning frenzy every time I fly anywhere (just in case).  However, my house is ALWAYS in perfect order.  And, here's the picture to prove it.

To be fair, the guitar isn't mine!

kt2010

#62-I LEAVE A PAPER TRAIL WHEREVER I GO!

     There are notes on ideas for my blog all over the place.  I keep a small notebook in my purse, by my recliner, on the refrigerator, in my office and in my car.  Ideas are constantly running through my brain and I need to write them down quickly or they are gone (ADHD again…see #29).
     Most are written in haste and accompanied by stains from whatever I am doing at the time (usually eating).  Some are wrinkled and water stained from wet hands that have been washing dishes (see #45).  Some have evidence of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich (my favorite) or a dab of paint (just read your mind....OK mostly covered in paint).

     Some have dirt, grass stains, even snail trails on them (left note laying on the sidewalk as I was edging).  Often, when I am changing into my pajamas, several fall out of my high pockets (that is what Mom used to call her bra - see # 51).

     But the weirdest place I found a blog note was in the freezer (ADHD yet again).  Apparently, I was searching for something and set the note down to grab my choice.  Days later I found it in the ice bin.  Funny thing, this idea was about a skiing accident I had when I was 19.  So, at least I had it filed in a quasi appropriate place!

     Also, I write on the backs of whatever paper like thing is in close proximity.  I once received a “THANKS FOR THE LAUGH” note from a gal at the electric company (remember I live in a small town and she knew me).  Apparently, I had written out the meat of the story on the back of the bill stub before I sent it in.  I asked her to read it to me and, guess what, it was notes on the “SKUNK” story (see #s 54 and 55).

     Have you a special way of remembering things (Mannnnn, that made me remember something else to blog about…..be right back….).  Luckily, I am sitting at my computer where I have a list and this one was number 43.  (I also have 23 in the prewriting stage, and 11 scheduled to post this month).

     See I forgot what I was doing….that darned old ADHD!

SO, IF YOU HAVE A SPECIAL WAY OF REMEMBERING THINGS PLEASE POST THEM.  

I WOULD LOVE TO HEAR ABOUT THEM.

kt 2010

#61-PARANIOA (The "Tighty Whities" Story)

Did your mother ever tell you to ALWAYS wear clean undies in case you are in an accident?  Well, my mother drilled it into my mind most of my life.  This, hopefully explains my behavior in this next story (which occurred in the late 80s).  ALSO 100% TRUE!

Well, how else was I going to illustrate this one?  They don't exactly have tighty whities in clip art.
    And, yes, that's my foot!  No, that's not my underwear!      (I had to buy a pair to photograph)

One morning I found my underpants drawer empty as I was rushing to get dressed.  As usual, I was running late.  Rather than put on a pair of pants from the hamper (which my mother told me NEVER to do) I went to my college age son’s room and borrowed a pair of his white jockey shorts.  They were snug, but they would work.

Once out of the house and on the road I suddenly discovered that my mind was stuck on the idea that, somehow, someone would find out that I was wearing men’s underwear.  I began to think about being in an accident (thanks, Mom), getting sick and having to go to the hospital, or someone seeing my choice of panties through a crack in the bathroom door.  I ran dozen of scenarios through my mind all the way to work, all morning at work, and well into the afternoon.

When school was out, lest I tempt fate again on the drive home, I went to the restroom, removed the offending undies, and put them in the trash.  However, then I worried about someone finding out that I was going commando. 

What’s my point?  I HAVE NO IDEA.  We all do these silly little things and worry about what others might think.  Would anyone have even noticed?  (Probably not).  Would anyone have even cared if they did notice?  (Probably not).  So, why do we humans torture ourselves with these "little" things?  Because we’re just that, human.  (However, I vowed to never wear men’s briefs ever again).


Do you have any SILLY things that you worry about?  Tell me, please, I don't want to feel that I am the only one who does this kind of stuff.

kt2010

#60-HE CRACKS ME UP

(11/25/2010)  My grandson, Logan is a real character.  He is what one might call a high-energy kid (therefore high maintenance).   He is in first grade now and he cracks me up all the time.  This kid is always noisy, always very active, and always silly.

Today I called my daughter to wish them all a Happy Thanksgiving.  I got to talk with both of the kids.  Shay (2nd grade) is all reserved and lady like.  A real sweetheart but, getting information from her is like pulling a cat through a knowhole backwards.  She usually answers my questions with one word answers like,  "Good,"  or  "Fine," or "Uh Huh."   When asked what she was thankful for and she gave me the funny up and down sound of a slurred I don't know.  However, she finally told me she was thankful for her dogs.


When Logan came to the phone he was all bubbly, as usual.  I asked him what he was thankful for and he reeled off a long list of things.  Then he paused and said, “Wait, I’m thankful for my blood, too!”  Of course this caused me to break into laughter and prompted a memory of something that happened a year or so ago. 

THE MEMORY: You see, Logan is always one minute away from a bump, scrape, or whatever.  One day I receive a call from my daughter who had to hide in her office so Logan couldn’t hear her laughing while she told me what had just happened.  

Apparently, Logan was not being careful at the kitchen table (no surprise there).  He was leaning the chair back on two legs.  My daughter was in her office and heard a loud crash (not unusual when Logan’s around).  But, what WAS unusual is she heard him wailing these words, “I’m dying!  I’m dying!”

Patty sprinted into the kitchen and found Logan lying on the floor, his chin tucked into his neck and his hands desperately clutching this area.  Blood was running from between his fingers.  He was still saying over and over, "I'm dying!" 


Trying not to panic, Patty pried his fingers away to see what the damage was.  She was relieved to find that he had only hit his chin on a stair step but the wound was bleeding profusely.

Now, here’s the clincher.  Logan''s tear filled limpid eyes looked up into his mother’s concernface and said, "I love you Mommie, I’m going to miss you.”  He plaintfully reiterated this several times.

While administering quick first aid Patty tried to convenience him that he was not going to die.  Shay, being quite the tooper, was already at her mother’s side helping.  The two of them took Logan to the hospital for stitches (not the first and probably not the last).  



At the hospital his wonderful Aunt Debbie met them and put in several stitches.  Then she sent him on his way with a belly full of candy called Sweedish Fish (that ought to calm him down!).


2010 kt

#59-SUNDAY'S SONG (Love Never Fails)

THIS IS ONE OF MY VERY FAVORITE SONGS and ONE OF MY FAVORITE VOCALISTS.
(I just love YouTube video's!)



A neat thing about the church I attend (Oakton Methodist Church- a country church) is that they (our praise and worship team) sing a lot of this kind of song.

The lyrics are up on a large screen and eventually the whole congregation learns the song.  We sing along (no hymnals for us) and it is like we have a choir of 300 or more.  The first half hour is dedicated to praise and worship.  Then the next hour is turned over to the pastor.  By the time he gets up there we are in the proper frame of mind.

kt 2010

#58-"COMPUTER RELATED ATTACKS by POLTERGEISTS"

"Ok, I have a page all set up and waiting for you," Say I to myself as I move through the many help pages and try to figure things out.  I know any minute now I will stumble into "C.R.A.P." (Computer Related Attacks by Poltergeists).

Example #2 :when I tried to post #36 one paragraph posted where it belonged and the rest (3 paragraphs) posted 52 pages later!  When I went to the published post I couldn't believe it when I paged down for about a minute before I got to the end. (See example #1 on blog #48).

Example #3:  I was cleaning up my desktop and Macintosh HD window when somehow things disappeared.  I looked for them (some of my blog 1st drafts) everywhere found some in the trash found others in unexpected places.  Some I still haven't found.  I didn't put this stuff there.  Now, when I post I can't n get into my regular files the normal way.  I have to detour to all kinds of places in order to import anything!  C.R.A.P. again!

Example #4:  I purchased a computer camera and down loaded Skype so I can talk to my granddaughter who is stationed in Korea.  No problem, worked great.  Then one day she called and immediately started pointing to her ears and started shaking her head no.  She was not receiving my audio.  Diagnostics showed I was not sending audio.  I had not changed ANYTHING.  I logged onto help, went through a wide variety of computer calisthenics  and got no where.  I had to trash everything having to do with Skype and start from scratch.  It worked!  However, 3 months later it happened again.  C.R.A.P.

Has anyone out there had the same kind of problems?  Please write me and let me know.  There might be a C.R.A.P. virus or something going around!  Really!

kt2010

#57-FRIDAY FLASH BACK (Poor Kid Wasn't Even a Little Bit Country-1)

This is a true story about my 10-year-old daughter, Patty, and her problems adjusting from life in Los Angeles to living in the small rural town of Lamar, MO.  (reprint of #16)

It was 1976 and Patty was invited to spend the night with a new friend.  Now, Patty had been over to this girl’s house numerous times.  One of her favorite things to do, while there,  was to play with a calf the family kept in the side yard.  His name was  (key word) Billy.

Somewhere around 6:30 PM I got a frantic call from my daughter.             

She was sobbing hysterically and begging me to come and get her.  I was alarmed by her plaintiff cries and tried to get her to tell me the problem.  She finally blurted out, “Mom, please come and get me, NOW!  These people EAT THEIR PETS!”

I later found out that as she was forking a piece of beef into her mouth someone said, “Isn’t BILLY good!"  I guess the realization hit her the moment she started to chew.  I’ll bet you can guess what happened next!

kt 2010