Are we dealing with, dementia or plain meanness?

Back to our simple quietude which we do not appreciate until we have a week like this which was. While we loved every minute of their visit, tonight we crash--a week of son, DIL, and grand daughter took its toll. That with the late night Olympics broke our routine, especially mine.

Activity all week--starting Sunday with their arrival. That was the day Jerry's mother, 91 years old decided to act out. For a bit now she has been exhibiting very nasty tendencies toward me. Most of this happens when people are not around just her and me--sleers,nasty comments, insults, etc. I get annoyed but walk away. Sunday though after providing dinner and having her here to be part of the company, she began her laments about her Oceanside tribe. They are Jerry's dead sister's progeny--the ones who have done everything but assassinate a president. They are alums of every penal institution in and out of CA including Folsom prison; but in her eyes the cops have always picked on them. Yeah right--innocent druggies, robbers, etc.

Many years ago in CA as a favor for a friend who was at the CA Youth Authority, I chaired some promotional panels around the state to develop lists to promote managers (officers) within the Youth Authority System. In Chino, the warden of Chino prison served on the panel. As we chatted I told him that my nephews were alums of his institution; he knew them. Recidivistic grads. So far now 2 are dead from police related incidents--one shot by police swat team in Oceanside in the 70's at the age of 15 or so; one committed suicide in jail just last year. Anyway quite the group. But in their grandmother's eyes they're innocents. Believe that and we have a bridge to sell you cheap.

It is a sore subject in this house. Jerry has defended me from the old lady in the past who promptly forgets what she says. Since no one will push to have her tested for dementia, so that we know what we are dealing with, this behavior is ignored. Her adult children say, "that's just Mom." We need to know is she really crazy, can she be medicated, can she be committed to live where they see to her taking the right pills, is she just acting out for attention, is she manipulative?

I knew it would be tough with Aunt Marie gone. I was right. Aunt Marie kept Florence some what in check, till her last years of frailty.

So here we are having a good day to start off and here is the 91 year old talking about her tribe. And ain't' it awful what lives they have had. Ain't it awful how sad, etc. I heard enough. This makes everyone uncomfortable to say the least. And this never comes up around Jerry because he will not tolerate it! So it's me, DIL cleaning up after dinner in the kitchen and the old lady watching us. In my own home and feeling I can say something, I suggest to Florence that she talk about something pleasant. With that she (Jerry's mother )goes off on me: "Well this is MY FAMILY. We are not up to your class. You, Pat, live in your own little world where everything is perfect, everything is wonderful..... '' On she went snarling at me and throwing her arms about. You haven't seen anything till you have seen this 4'10" nasty old grey haired unattractive lady carry on.

Many in her family said she has always been nuts. She did time in the mental hospital in her 20's committed by one of her sisters. Not playing with a full deck and certainly not today. I say something again, like, "just talk about something pleasant, Rod, Sophia, Barb, " "Well" she yells I don't know anything pleasant. After all you go by every day and you never stop in to see if I need anything...." By this time I bite my tongue and walk away. And yet I know that if I attack back it will make me look worse. See she has an audience--DIL. This goes on and I walk off into my own living room, mumbling to Jerry. DIL takes old lady outside and calms her as a timeout. Before being taken to her own home, Florence tries to offer a bit of an apology quoting the Bible that the tongue will get her in trouble---I walk off again.


I don't know what she's up to this time, but I will have no more of it. I do not deserve this. This is not the first time I've taken such crap from her. After all, the reason she lives around us is no one else wanted the responsibility of her. In 1990father in law died: we got the old maid! No gratitude for all we have done and change that to me. Her 80th birthday party; her 90th birthday party, finding her mobile home in the Sr. Park in Newcastle; taking her to church; introducing her to folks. What to do. Descend to her level? Then again, in her demented mind she has pulled it off again. Jerry is more than fed up but what to do. He said after her 90th when she did not even thank me that "no more will you do these parties for her even if she lives to be 100."

Last night we take her to dinner with everyone, which is an inconvenience--having to take 2 cars and pick her up. At dinner she acted like she'd never been in the restaurant; I remind her she's been there many times. She snarls at me again. I order a Margarita and drink it and ignore her. DIL sits next to her and helps out. What an angel, Angel is! We take her to see the sand sculptures on the river and DIL as sweet as she is, holds her hand and walks with her. Old lady grins knowing she has a patsy.

Well after some rest, I do intend to tell her that I shall no longer be available. She can torment whomever she chooses, count me out. Maybe it's time she moves to CO with her daughter. Me thinks she knows what she's doing; and thinks folks will think,,,"such a sweet little old lady." NOT

But as my friend, Sandy, advised me today, "you do not like to lose and you do not like to be out of control. You will win this one too..And where was your bottle of vodka?."

This has taken time on my blog but someway I have got to stop this abuse. My mother is long dead and I would not tolerate this from her. We fought. There are only so many chances in this life and biting the hand that feeds soon cuts that hand off. Even if the biter is senile. I know that people can only make you feel bad if you allow their garbage into your head---now what's wrong with me? Our favorite old friend, adopted Mom, Helen Kiker who died at the age of 98 in NV the same day as Aunt Marie always said, "Old people just don't get to be crabby and nasty. They were crabby and nasty when they were younger. People just become more like what they are as they age."

Vintage Perception

We are enjoying a week's visit with son, DIL & grand daughter from CA this week. (The Morrison's of Rancho Murietta) Lest I forget, this revelation of vintage being in the eye of the beholder, I must record this on the blog.

Janine, grand daughter, will be 18 end of the month and just graduated from high school. This trip was a big graduation present for her and their first trip to MN. Well grandma figured this would cost some bucks, and after all look at all we have missed in contributing the last few years being here. So Sunday while Mom & Dad napped to recoup from the red eye overnight flight I decided it was time to take Janine to The Buckle. Well on Sunday in this area, most stores are closed but the Buckle which is a funky 20's something place is in the mall next to Macy's. We spent some time there and left with two funky tops which she can add to her collection. I said I would only buy 2 for her so she chose carefully from many strange looking things (in my vintage eyes.)

We were talking about clothing and I admitted to being old now because these ugly clothes and resurrections of psychedelics do not at all appeal to me. Janine said she loves sales--well I bet because the price of clothing would at least be tempered with sales. And she said she likes funky (isn't everything funky today) and really "loves vintage."

Vintage, now that's something I know about. I commented that the local college girls pick up 40's & 50's clothing from Goodwill or rummage sales and then have it altered to fit them. She got a strange look. She didn't say much. In a little bit she mentioned vintage again. So being the perceptive grandma that I am I could perceive a defining moment was in order.

Oh yes it was...Janine explained that vintage means stuff from the 70's. Well that was a real eye opener for me. Here I'm thinking 40's, maybe 50's are vintage. And here is the Kid who knows its the 70's.

Now I realize that we are Vintage People--which I commented on yesterday through our journey in the Niagara Caves some 260 feet underground, the hard way, steps down and then steps up. That's us including vintager grandma with cave phobia in the photo. It's the back up those same stairs that's a killer after walking around for nearly an hour. It was supposedly only a one mile walk, but felt like 20. Now, because I grew up in PA, land of coal mines and had grand fathers who were coal miners I've been disabused of any interest in underground. I do not do that--one could say I have a phobia about underground. I've had limited times venturing there, once in CA at the Grass Valley Empire Gold mine when my Mom & aunt visited where I shuddered the whole time. And this event yesterday. As if it were not enough, the venturesome folks on our walking tour group wanted all the lighting turned off----shudder. For the few seconds it lasted, I was not a happy spelunker! But here in Harmony, MN at the "world famous" Niagara caves, we had our experiences stretched. DIL, Angel, loves caves so this was a trip for her. And why didn't this vintage person stay on top where she is much happier.

Well, sometimes Vintage People need to have their experiences expanded and so we are this week. See what we miss without teenagers! Who would have thought that the 70's are vintage. I'm so glad Janine clarified for me! Off the blog, she has just advised me that she is now up (yeah I can see that) and ready to go.

Stuff and more stuff

Yesterday I browsed over to the local Catholic School's summerfest to buy two BBQ dinner tickets for us. The dinner was to honor the parish's two sisters (nuns) who are retiring to their convent order in Rochester, MN after many years in this community. I have met them both and especially enjoy Sister Marga, she is always bright with a smile. So I thought this would be a good way to avoid cooking and enjoy the evening with others. Being a Catholic event they had a beer tent too, so liquid refreshments were available.

I recite my mantra as I approach any rummage sale, estate sale, auction, silent auction, Goodwill or thrift store, etc. "NO MORE STUFF" I say this out loud and silently because I really mean it. I really do not need anymore STUFF!

But here I was chatting with the neighbor, enjoying the time, and intrigued by what might be around. First the silent auction where there was a tent full of different items. I have been cured of my CA tendency to bid up the prices to help raise $$. That's because I learned that here in MN they often will not outbid me. That results in my acquiring stuff for which I have no need. Often it's stuff I merely store until I can take it to the Goodwill store or until some other deserving organization has a rummage sale and requests donations. Oh now and then there is something that I just need to acquire, like my life size angel adorned with white mini lights and a golden mesh skirt. (Photo of she & me attached)

Angel graced the local Catholic church balcony until the Monsignor decided she must go. He said she was tacky and he could no longer abide her being suspended from their choir loft. So the ladies of the parish agreed to put her in their silent auction about two years ago during their community fall roast beef dinner. Well, I just cannot stand to see a perfectly good angel go to waste. I'd not added any new angels to my collection for a long time. And there she was, no bidders. Heck, she's worth at least $10, my bid. My bid was the only bid because how many people have room for her. The next day when I was called to come get her the ladies had teased the Msgr. that he'd won her. Right in the midst of this, I arrived to claim her to which he was so relieved that he said, "I am giving you a special blessing for taking her away from me." Ever since she has resided in various places in the house, upstairs, downstairs, bedroom and most recently out on our enclosed 4 Season Room. From there she has joined in and watched over many events including our neighborhood women's bunco night. She smiles as we roll our dice and drink our adult beverages of choice when I host the gals. I usually serve wine or Brandy slushes and she & I sample the drinks first to be sure that she agrees they are just right! Jerry greeted her with something like what the old Msgr. must have felt, "what in the world are you going to do with that!" To which I said, "Don't offend her, she brings a special Catholic blessing from the Msgr. himself." This stirs up my Catholic roots.

Well I just had to browse the rummage sale where they were taunting $1 per grocery sack. I acquired a neat small wooden knick knack shelf, just what I'd thought about the other day; it seems Divine that these things materialize at the Catholic church for me a lapsed Catholic. Sure wish I could chant my way to winning the lottery! But then as folks remind me, "Pat you first have to buy a ticket." Well just Friday as I was dusting in the bedroom my thought, "if I had a tiny knick knack shelf I could put these precious little figurines onto it and get them off my night stand." From my mouth to the angels' ears! There on the rummage tables was a tiny wooden shelf. Perfect, Divinely guided. It has two shelves and tiny spool and rim holders along each. Into my bag it went. I also found a little paperback book of scriptures and quotes, "What Gardening has taught me about God." Well you all know that I am a book addict. Here's one I could have written. And, in anticipation of arrival of one and only granddaughter in a week from CA I found a great beaded bag--old looking, maybe from the 50's beaded white mesh. She will love this. And if she by some stretch doesn't I can always use another bag, maybe, or pass it along. To my calculations these treasures were only 33 1/3 cents each! Now you just can't beat that.

Time to get on with the evening details, dinner, etc. More later in Part 2 of Stuff and more stuff.

Liberals, socialists, communists

Perennial Socialist Party presidential candidate Norman Thomas (the grandfather, incidentally, of Newsweek Assistant Managing Editor Evan Thomas), echoed that sentiment: “The American people will never knowingly adopt Socialism. But under the name of ‘liberalism’ they will adopt every fragment of the Socialist program, until one day America will be a Socialist nation, without knowing how it happened.”

It is really starting to bother me tremendously that people can't distinguish between socialism and what the leftists, extreme Democrat liberals are spewing. Maybe that's because there is no difference any longer. There used to be, I think in the days when there truly was a concern for the less fortunate of our nation.

I attribute this election year phenomena to the lack of real education in this country. Our public schools are no longer (for the most part) teaching, they ignore history. Most teachers don't understand history at all so how can they pass along lessons. What we have now is a result of probably one or two generations of declining education and increasing indoctrination.

Socialism, liberalism and communism, words that have amazing parallels today. Electorate beware "a fool and his money can be devious..."

I have a very radical right friend who has ranted about communism over the years I used to laugh at him and think, we'll never go there. Then one time I recall remarking to him that "the term communism is passe...it's no longer existing." He was smarter than me. What we are facing now is a resurrection of the communistic state here in this country disguised as toleration. Soviet dictator Nikita Khrushchev said of Roosevelt’s “New Deal” paradigm shift, “We can’t expect the American people to jump from Capitalism to Communism, but we can assist their elected leaders in giving them small doses of Socialism, until they awaken one day to find that they have Communism.” And then it will be too late for all of us.

This is the scariest national election I have ever encountered.

A new environmental term

Last night just for fun we attended a town hall meeting at the Legion about electrical power lines that are proposed from S Dakota (coal generated) to Minneapolis, down along the Mississippi through the hills and from the La Crescent township across the river to La Crosse and then on to Chicago. What entertainment. We went for information about this project and to learn why some are upset.

A troupe of falsalarmist environmentalists are trying to stop this. I said we went for information but this was indoctrination. They talked about electro magnetic fields. I asked what scientific data they had that indicated these were harmful to human beings as it is my understanding that one would have to be very adjacent to or under an exposed power line for more years than the human life span to be harmed. They admitted they had no data, but then one said, "well we didn't have data about second hand smoke either..." To which another man, a smoker, groused, "yeah and you still haven't proven that connection." Someone mentioned global warming and one of the old farmers in the audience said, "sure could have used that this past winter." (Now don't get this wrong, I hated being around smokers and so selfishly I'm glad for the smoke free environments.)

We sat for about an hour listening till we couldn't stand the humor any longer. Besides I was beginning to show my Pat-side--giggling uncontrollably which always causes Jerry to look at me. There was plenty to laugh about, like why are all these people afraid to cut their hair? Old guys with grey pony tails, receding hair and shiny bald heads really look funny. So do old ladies with long gray bushy hair, uncombed, too au naturel with no make up and dirty feet in bare sandals. I can understand when the young are involved in such a movement, but I guess I expect better from us more mature types. with age comes wisdom, supposedly. But not for a bunch of aging hippies.

One of their new catch phrases--"community based wind." I thought I'd heard everything in CA but this was new to me. Jerry came up with a good explanation of that--the entire town gathers at the parking lot of the hockey rink (aka our community center) and everybody farts on signal! Wish I could do a graphic artist's rendition of that cartoon.....a town bent over, drawers dropped, ready, aim, fire!

Evidently they don't want these nasty electricity lines--because they are generated in SD by coal! I asked what they thought might happen if everyone starts buying electric cars and plugs them in. I also mentioned that with people pollution (over population) and growth there is a complementary need for electricity which does not fall out of the sky. Ahh wind energy--that;the answer. Someone asked what happens when the wind doesn't blow.

In CA under Jerry Moonbeam Brown's governorship we built massive areas of windmills all along the Altamont pass. They still work, some, but I understand CA wants to shut those down because birds are flying into the blades. Well they only do that once.

Our DFL dumbocrat legislator was there to convene this meeting. It was funny to hear him praise the MN legislature for passing a law in 2007 that we will conserve. He says as a result our MN electricity use is declining(BS!) But it's not so in the states around us because they don't have these laws. I can just see it all now, all it takes is a law passed and immediately usage is decreased--please don't let congress find out. Oh no danger yet, they adjourned for vacation.

They talked about the power grids and some more mumbo jumbo. At the head of this agitation was (what else) an attorney for some "Concerned citizens." It was a cheap night out. We left and came home and finished the blue berry pie I'd made a couple days ago. I don't think I'll ever forget the term "community based wind!" I've laughed all day about it!

Twisty turns, financials, roses, politics.

Looking back over years of life it is amazing the twists and turns on the journey. I'm listening to Tom Sullivan on Fox Talk on the XM radio right now as I write and think. He's discussing the recent government bail out for those who are losing their homes in the mortgage meltdown. Because Steve has just lost his condo, this is a sore spot. I have much sympathy for those in the bad financial situations but I do not support government bailouts.

Steve called Sunday evening, woke me up and sounded happy as a clam that he will be moving now into an apartment in Roseville. He's relieved because rent is less than what he'd been trying to pay to keep up with his escalating mortgage. Now I'm not at my best when I've been awakened from my deep sleep, but I thought, "I must now be living in a nightmare. He has lost the condo, is on eviction status, and just barely found a used car to replace his truck which had been totaled by an underinsured drive, and he's gleeful?" Why did it not occur to him to work two jobs? He's tired, he says and yet who isn't when they have to sacrifice to get ahead? Of course he has lost the condo and with it the $$ we fronted. Easy come and easy go to him. Well that was a twisty turn and an opportunity he will not get again. This money tree is losing its leaves. Yet, who could have ever thought that real estate in CA and all around would get so upside down? Who would have thought the loans would go sideways? We all expected things to continue to grow. And who would have thought that there were so many predators in the financial industry feasting on fixing the unsuspecting trusting souls with lousy loans which would be defaulted? And who would have thought that Steve would lose his job with the school district after 12 years? Well enough about that.

The point is, things change and if we could have crystal balls to see ahead would we do things differently? Surely some things. And yet, life can work out if we persevere and trust and keep our faith. I've kicked myself many times for leaving Allegheny college, for the stupidest decision of my oh so wrong first marriage, and being across the country in CA. But know what? Somehow, I always wanted to live in CA and so I stayed there. And if I hadn't I'd never have met Jerry, we'd never have had the house with the swimming pool, we'd never have lived on acres in Newcastle and raised over 300 roses, I'd never have had the career with the State and I'd never have met all the friends along the way. I have to remember that here in Mayberry land when I wonder what in the world we are doing in MN? Yet this is a different environment.

In CA none of us were natives; well at least not many in my time. We came from all over and so we hung out together and made families of ourselves. We were different and we were the real blending of ages, backgrounds and beliefs. Many of my friends were very different politically than me and yet we enjoyed drinking wine together, reading, watching movies, shopping. We were accepting. I think that is what I miss the most. Here people have lived for generations and outsiders are really outsiders. It takes a unique outlook, self confidence and faith in the Almighty to ignore and persevere the twisty turn.

Another loopy turn has just hit me. In CA I was a very avid rose grower with a garden full of every type of rose from antiques to the latest hybrids. I grew nearly 400 roses at one time and then cut back to about 350. It used to be my therapy after a day in the bureaucracy to get out there and dead head roses in the evening. Every weekend I'd be doing something with my roses. I was very active in our rose society too holding every office. I studied and passed exams to be a consulting Rosarian, attended district meetings and national conventions. Had friends all over the world from our mutual love and interest of rose growing. I considered trying my hand at hybridizing. Flash forward on the twisty life road to 2008 in MN. Yes, we have a very lovely small rose garden about 25 different roses. But I have no desire to ever have so many roses again. For one, the arthritis in my hands rebels if I clip for too long. The different climate from CA to MN forced me to learn a different method of care an cultivation. No longer do I want to be all tied up in roses. In some ways rose growing is easier here--our season ends with covering the garden with mulch in November and then nothing needs to be done until maybe March at the earliest. This past year it was late April until I could get out there and prune away old growth. In CA roses were year round work with heavy work in December through February, our foggy rainy season. That's when we dormant sprayed and pruned back to force dormancy. Here no fall pruning is needed--they go to sleep on their own like good children who know it's bedtime. One of Jerry's first projects was to get the ground dug for our rose garden to accompaniment of comments from many neighbors who were sure that I was wasting our time. Today those same neighbors admire the blooms and complement me about my knack for roses. One says, "anyone who can grow roses in MN really has talent." I explain that roses grow everywhere, it's just knowing what kinds to grow here where winter can become harsh. We really do have the prettiest rose garden in town and one of the only. Which gets to the point of this twisty turn in my road. Accidentally I did not renew my rose society dues in December. Well, they went to online bulletins so they did not send a paper dues reminder and I really forgot all about paying my dues. Just last week one of the members from the Twin Cities Rose Club asked me if I'd joined another society. No, omg--guess I forgot to pay my dues. Then I thought, well why bother? I have never attended a meeting of this rose society which insists on being called a "club." It is in Minneapolis and meets Friday evenings. That would be a 2+ hour drive more or less each way. Not my idea of fun after it gets late. And I don't want to pay for a hotel room to stay over night. Besides, I have been spoiled by the best in CA and the programs here seem way too elementary for me. The District conference in March was so boring that I was just beside myself. I haven't attended a local meeting in 3 years so it is unlikely that I ever will. I really don't even care that I'd lose my consulting rosarian status by not belonging to a local society. I guess this is another twisty turn--I have the knowledge and the friends and will retain my American Rose Society membership at the national level. But unless there is something much closer, I will no longer be a local dues payer. Different from CA where I belonged to at least 3 local societies and was so into this. Another evidence of how interests shift and things can change. Besides why waste the $30 dues. That's not much until I start to consider all the different $25, $10, $30, etc here and there and pretty soon it's into the hundreds. Better use of money for other things.

Looking back at twisty turns helps us look ahead too. This too shall pass. It came to pass, it didn't come to stay. As I watch the stock market declines affect our investments, I keep optimism that this shall pass so that someday we will look back and talk about the depression of 2007-08. I hope we are now on the bottom leg of this downside journey and that we will start upward again.

Oh now listening to Jessie Ventura on Tom. Ventura is really a different person, truly an independent spirit rough, gruff, bright and opinionated. I have an acquaintance here in MN who has a license plate, "TAX FREE" on her corvette. She says they bought it the year Jessie was governor and returned excess $$ back to the people instead of allowing the state government to spend it. Talk about different! He calls the $ "Jessie checks." Around here there are differing opinions about Jessie. If there can ever be significant independent politics he will be part of it.

Lipstick chronicles blog and bullies

One of my high school gal pals recommended the lipstick chronicles blog. I just checked it out and really like it. So thanks to Carlie I now have one more website on which to "waste time." Or as I prefer, another portal to things unknown, unsaid, and unknown to be desirable before this experience. Well it's my leisure retirement time and I could be doing lots worse....hey, that's the same argument I use with Jerry about shopping---"I could be dong worse things...I could be hanging out on street corners, bars, whatever."

J.B.Stanley writes on the lipstick chronicles blog that she was pondering how to develop a character for her writing and was hanging out in Barnes and Noble. She asked the following question,

"Can you think back to high school or junior high and tell me if there was someone who was especially mean to you?" I plowed on. "A bully?"

Slightly suspicious, she nodded. "Yeah, I knew someone like that. Why do you want to know?"

"Well, I’ve already based characters on people who have wronged me, my third cousins, or my cat. At the moment, I’m fresh out of villains. But you knew someone who had an extra supply of cruelty?"

She nodded immediately. "In high school. His name was Russ."

Russ? My antagonist had a first name. I’d make up his last name later. "What did he look like?"

"He was your average blue-eyed blond, but he was too mean to be cute. He only smiled when he thought he was hurting someone." She paused in the middle of straightening a row of Seventeen magazines. "His face was always bunched up in a smirk. Like a little frog."

I could picture him already, but as a grown man in his mid-twenties. "What kind of things did he tease you about?"

The bookseller’s face clouded over. I could see that Russ’s words still haunted her and she was in her mid-forties. "He told me that no one would ever ask me out. He said that I looked like a fat boy. He called me fat boy all the time. I hated him." She gazed out the window and then turned back to me. "You know what? I still hate him."

I find this fascinating because lately with our reconnection I've been thinking back on Ken Hi days. Even thinking back past that to Ridge Ave Jr. Hi times. Why stop there, what about 3rd Ward elementary school? Maybe my memories have dimmed so much that they have black holes but I really cannot think of any bully or anyone who was that mean to me during my school days. I don't know, maybe we were nicer then. Or maybe I just had such self esteem and confidence that I didn't attract bullies? Or maybe I've just been fortunate. I think if I'd had someone taunting me as described above, I'd have called him/her something worse. Maybe I was too naive to recognize an insult and merely laughed at a fool who tried? Or maybe with the abuse that happened at home, nothing else phased me.

I remember being on the stage in our high school assembly--maybe running for some class office. Anyway I remember tripping and flopping. Of course everyone laughed and I know my face must have been red. But I laughed too. Of course I was embarrassed--what teenage girl wouldn't have been in the 60's. But something deep inside carried me over that and just let me laugh too. Maybe this is a trait that has served me well in life.

Now don't think for a moment that it's been an ice cream sundae existence. Yet I have been able to shrug off many things by laughter. I know it's good for the body, soul, spirit. It must disarm an insult.

The other day I was picking up some alterations and yakking with the seamstress when an attractive, well groomed, well put together, poised elderly lady came in with a garment for Pat to mend. She began to talk with us as we were laughing about something. She shared that her husband was just getting on her last nerves. she said,"He was a major in the Army and he still expects every one to hop to it and salute him. It's just killing me, I had a stroke last year." She seemed so sad and shaken. Well Pat started to laugh and replied, "Why don't you do just that but make fun of him? Laugh at him." You know laughter is the best medicine. I commented further that the only salute he'd get from me would be a one finger one! She thought about this and then got a gleam in her eye, "you know you girls might just have the answer..."

I left right after that and there outside sat her husband in their car. He rolled down his window and asked me' "Is my wife in there? " I sensed his demanding demeanor was not a casual inquiry, so I decided to have my fun there with the Major and replied, "Why how would I know? Who is your wife? I mean I don't even know who you are let alone your wife." He bristled and described her. I laughed at him and said, "Oh yes she is. And you must be the Major." To this he swelled up (aha I spotted the recognition he craves....) then demanded , "well what's taking so long?" There was much I could have said including that we were assuaging the poor gal about him, but my better judgement prevailed. After all she has to live with him I don't. So I merely said, "Well I was there first and so she had to wait her turn. If I had only known that you were out here waiting and in a hurry for sure I'd have let her go before me." I walked across to my car grinning. I had to get away before the devil on my left shoulder made me say more. I fight that devil all the time, sometimes he wins. In the car I really chuckled, "what an arrogant jerk." Pity his wife who despite wearing beautiful diamond and silver jewelry was burdened with an insufferable windbag. Ah well, she has likely tolerated this for many many years.

I called Pat, the seamstress after I got home to share the episode of the Major. she got a good chuckle.

Well bullies and me don't mix. Maybe they never have. Maybe I'm immune.

Favorite quotes

After joining Facebook to keep up with my homeys in PA, I filled out my profile. Below are some of my favorite quotes that I shared on Facebook. Most of you know, I love words, and good quotes. When I put together scrapbooks or memory makers for friends, I always like to include a few.

For years I collected quotes and kept them in a folder which soon grew way beyond anything usable...so with my "retirement leisure time" I started to keep these quotes in a binder and on the PC. I do that sporadically and when I want a particular fitting quote I never can find it! Where's my staff when I need them! (Hey I think that's my favorite original retirement quote. Where's my secretary? You're kidding I have to do this?)

I've seen fire & I've seen rain......(James Taylor song)

It came to pass not to stay.....(not sure of source whether I said this or someone said it or I read it.)

Toto, I don't think we're in Kansas anymore...(Dorothy in Wizard of OZ)

But we have promises to keep and miles to go before we sleep.....(Robert Frost poem, Stopping by woods on a Snowy Evening)

Live in the layers not in the litter. (Stanley Kunitz poem, The Layers Look back on this blog where I have posted the entire thing)

When people show you who they are, believe them...the first time! (Maya Angelou this would save me lots of trouble if I'd heed it entirely instead of not following that little voice that says, " girl watch out here." Then the other little voice says, "oh go on, try it , give hm/her/them the benefit of the doubt." Most often it works out, "Dummy! Shoulda listened the first time!"

PUT ON YOUR BIG GIRL PANTIES & DEAL WITH IT
I don't know who said this but I have it on a tile in my closet so I see it every day along with One Shoe Can Change Your Life, attributed to Cinderella--that is to address my shoe collection addiction which has diminished some, but which still draws me to check out especially red heels!