So Easy On The Eyes

This Is How It Works

This...

...goes behind this:

And that is how we keep the back of the truck nice and clean. Neat idea, huh?

I'm sorry, I couldn't resist.

Because He Deserves It

This is our newest addition of toys. Thanks to my inheritance I was able to buy my husband a new truck. Our '97 F-150 took a stumble a few weeks before we got this one.
This is an F-150 King Ranch SuperCrew 4X4 with leather interior. We added the weather shields over all four windows, and also the bug shield at the hood.
It came equipped with Sirius satellite radio, free for six months. My favorite station is All Elvis. I can never get enough of his singing.

When I knew I would be getting the inhertance, well over a year ago already, I had decided that I would use part of it to let my husband pick out the truck of his choice. It was to be a secret. A secret that I was keeping very well. Until the '97 started breaking down little by little. And so I had to tell him of my well-kept plan.

At first he said "no" but after he thought about it he said "OK, as long as it's a King Ranch." No problem there. So I started looking for black ones, as that is the only color I had seen a King Ranch presented in and I thought it was the best color choice. None of the local dealers had any in that color. As a matter of fact, there were very few King Ranch trucks out there. One color that kept coming up in inventories was copper. And that is the very same color my husband had in mind. After I realized that this was his truck and his color choice to make, we decided on the Dark Copper Clearcoat.

It took awhile for us to coordinate our first meeting to see the truck because, although it was listed in the inventory of the dealer we chose, they didn't physically have it on any of their lots. Ford in Detroit insisted it was there, but no one could find it. Seems it was taking the scenic route from its birth place in Kansas City and the day finally arrived for us to see it. And what a beauty she is. Or he is, depending on who you are.

...and to "top" it off a hard tonneau cover color-coded to match the truck was recently installed over the bed. Our other truck had the soft cover with snaps and we didn't want to go with one of those because they simply rot from the sun and weather. Happy to say, we sold the '97 in a private sale.

I would like to add here that my husband and I worked very hard over our lifetimes to get where we are. Nothing came easy. We hit an awful lot of roadblocks and snags along the way. I can only say here that I think we both deserve what we have today.

So Far So Good

First off, don't ever think that I am or ever will be a Cowboys fan. I am, however, a Terrell Owens fan. And I am glad to report that he is doing rather well while currently on the Cowboys' roster. And that makes my heart happy. Because when T.O. is happy, Cheyenne is happy. He has, hopefully, found a home. I became a fan of his while he was with my favorite team, the San Francisco Forty-Niners. (Remember Joe Montana?)

In my estimation, T.O. is a darn good player and I always believed that, given the right team he would excel once again. Time will tell I suppose. I will be watching many Cowboys games now, which isn't so bad since that is my husband's team anyway.

When T.O. played for the Philadelphia Eagles, I think the problem there was Donovan McNabb's gigantic ego. He just couldn't stand someone on the team that was more popular than he was/is. Personality clash, you know.

When he left the '49ers they were not doing so good; actually, they haven't done anything since then. I just wish they could find a decent quarterback. Their last good QB was Steve Young. Then when T.O. was with the Eagles, Mister McNabb had other ideas as to whom he wanted to receive the ball. Well, that would upset me too. After all, if I'm a receiver I want to catch the ball and run with it. No? Isn't that the whole idea?

So let's give T.O. another chance. He's communicating with Cowboys QB Drew Bledsoe during practice. Things are looking up. Let's keep our fingers crossed and see how the coming season goes.

Fur Coats In a Heat Wave

Yes, it's extremely hot for them, too. For the second day in a row we have hit 95 degrees.

Sometimes they hide out under the deck, but mostly they just wander off to find a cool spot after breakfast. If I could bring them inside I would. But they are strays and they don't let me get too close to them. Very skittish, and I don't know why. I would never harm them but I guess their mommas' pep talks against man have paid off.

These two photos were taken at the evening feeding time right outside our sliding doors. They know we watch them, and have become used to us being there behind the glass doors. But as soon as I slide the door open, many of them scatter. Some are more scared than others.

For those of you that have critters outside, PLEASE see that they always have a fresh supply of water at all times. And keep them out of the sun.

(You can see them better if you click on the photos. Especially the bottom one, where Bear is looking into the camera. She and her 3 siblings ~ Gizmo, Wolf, and Trucker Red ~ are longhairs, so I guess they mind the heat even more so.)

Morsels From The Newspaper

Poor Mel Gibson...Nope, I'm not touching this one with a ten foot pole. See me next week when the pole length might change. I could make a comment of my own, but I shall refrain for now.

Morning After Pill ~ I think I'll sit on the fence on this issue also. One thing I do think is that it shouldn't be used like an aspirin just to make something go away.

The heat ~ Today is supposed to hit 100 or better. As I type this, it is 94 degrees. Our grass is very green yet. We do have a lot of dew in the mornings, plus all the thunderstorms we have had lately have helped keep it green.

Fidel Castro ~ The "man" has turned over power to his brother. I hear the Miami community is so ready to party hearty when he's finally gone for good. Despots like him never did the world any good. Why can't these so-called leaders be nice. Maybe then they 'd get the respect they sorely crave.

Cell phones in school ~ Totally unnecessary. Leave them at the main desk and pick them up when you leave the school building. They're okay for emergencies and communication between parents and child, but too many kids abuse cell phones beyond belief.

Pennsylvania Lottery ~ Sales reached a record $3.07 billion in 2005-06, so why haven't our seniors benefited? Why must people who no longer have children in school pay school taxes anyway? Especially seniors. That is so ridiculous and to me it's just wrong. I think seniors should not have to pay school taxes.

Tour de France winner Floyd Landis ~ guilty or not guilty? I'll wait till the final verdict is in on this one.


So there you have it. My musings while reading this morning's local newspaper.

This Really Ticks Me Off

What the hell is up with our Pledge of Allegiance?

The possibility of certain judges trying to stop its usage in schools because of the phrase "under God" really yanks my chain.

I don't care who you pray to or who your Supreme Being is, when it comes down to it they are all one and the same. A god is a god, no matter what you call it.

And to the parents of those children who don't want them saying that phrase...it's only two words and NO ONE is forcing them to say any of the Pledge.

We've been reciting that since 1954 when "under God" was added. I would hope that it is still being spoken after I'm gone. I just wish these nay-sayers would get over it and move on with their lives. This country was built on prayers, church, a God etc. and anyone who doesn't like it now, well they can just go back to where they came from. In other words, if you don't like it, leave it. I'm sure you can find another country you can bully with your stupid inane thoughts and ideas. Just leave ours the hell alone.

The Pledge of Allegiance is for school children to honor the American flag. And the "under God," if you want to get picky, can mean any god. Fill in your own blank. And for God's sake isn't there enough bickering going on around the world? Why must we, as a nation, bicker over something so trite, just like schoolchildren?

I just wish they would stop messing with the beliefs that we older folk were raised on in this country.

I Couldn't Have Said It Better Myself

(This came to me via an e-mail the other day. I pasted it here verbatim. I realize al-Zarqawi has since been blown to smithereens ~ and it couldn't happen to a nicer fella ~ but I kept that part in anyway.)


The lady who wrote this letter is Pam Foster of Pamela Foster and Associates in Atlanta. She's been in business since 1980 doing Interior design and home planning. She recently wrote the following Letter to a family member serving in Iraq ...... Check it out!

WHAT'S ALL OF THE FUSS?

Are we fighting a war on terror or aren't we? Was it or was it not started by Islamic people who brought it to our shores on September 11, 2001?

Were people from all over the world, mostly Americans, not brutally murdered that day, in downtown Manhattan, across the Potomac from our nation's capitol and in a field in Pennsylvania? Did nearly three thousand men, women and children die a horrible, burning or crushing death that day, or didn't they?

And I'm supposed to care that a copy of the Koran was "desecrated" when an overworked American soldier kicked it or got it wet? Well,I don't. I don't care at all.

I'll start caring when Osama bin Laden turns himself in and repents for incinerating all those innocent people on 9/11.

I'll care about the Koran when the fanatics in the Middle East start caring about the Holy Bible, the mere possession of which is a crime in Saudi Arabia.

I'll care when Abu Musab al-Zarqawi tells the world he is sorry for hacking off Nick Berg's head while Berg screamed through his gurgling, slashed throat.

I'll care when the cowardly so-called "insurgents" in Iraq come out and fight like men instead of disrespecting their own religion by hiding in mosques.

I'll care when the mindless zealots who blow themselves up in search of nirvana care about the innocent children within range of their suicide bombs.

I'll care when the American media stops pretending that their First Amendment liberties are somehow derived from international law instead of the United States Constitution's Bill of Rights.

In the meantime, when I hear a story about a brave Marine roughing up an Iraqi terrorist to obtain information, know this:
I don't care.

When I see a fuzzy photo of a pile of naked Iraqi prisoners who have been humiliated in what amounts to a college hazing incident, rest assured that I don't care.

When I see a wounded terrorist get shot in the head when he is told not to move because he might be booby-trapped, you can take it to the bank that I don't care.

When I hear that a prisoner, who was issued a Koran and a prayer mat, and fed "special" food that is paid for by my tax dollars, is complaining that his holy book is being "mishandled,"
You can absolutely believe in your heart of hearts that I don't care.

And oh, by the way, I've noticed that sometimes it's spelled "Koran" and other times "Quran." Well, Jimmy Crack Corn and ---- you got it, I DON'T CARE!

Unwelcome Familiarity

I would like to share a letter to the editor with y'all that was in my local newspaper recently. It certainly brought a big smile to my face, not only because it's how I felt all my life, but because it's also the truth:

Just what are people in the medical field, and others, thinking? I am 74 years old. I am not senile, nor am I an infant. Therefore, when you speak to me, if you are not Paul Newman or Richard Gere, please don't call me "honey," "dear," or "sweetheart." Call me "Mrs. ***."

*** Name withheld to protect the innocent.

Nothing irritates me more than to be called any one of those names by anyone other than my husband. (And just so you know, I am not anywhere near that woman's age.)

Of course, it would be either Johnny Depp or Antonio Banderas that I would also allow to call me endearing names...

A girl can dream, can't she?

Is Tony Stewart...

...the next voice of other NASCAR drivers?

It seems lately that when a driver of lesser experience runs into him or performs a squeeze play, Tony will lash out with his car or his finger. The sport definitely needs someone like him. It has been sorely missed since Dale Earnhardt ruled the roost. Back then when Dale spoke or did something on the track, it meant something. Everyone took notice. The media, the fans, NASCAR and more importantly, the drivers themselves. And they respected him for it. But this post isn't about Dale, it's about Tony...

I have always liked Tony. And I believe if Junior weren't racing, then my number one driver would probably be Tony. I know there are plenty NASCAR fans out there that don't like him and that's their problem. All he is looking for is respect folks. And the younger, newer drivers just haven't grasped that aspect of racing...yet. Sooner or later they will get it. Sad thing is, when they do there is a whole new crop and the cycle starts all over again.

A light will go and they will realize they're not in a sprint race, that they have to use their heads and race smart; use their head instead of hiding behind their car and using it as a battering ram.

Some of these new drivers come into Cup thinking they're going to ride all over the other drivers and win, win, win. Sure, some will. The majority won't. And they are the ones that cause the most problems. Too eager. Too aggressive. Too much in a hurry to make a name for themselves in Cup. And the older veterans are in harms way because of them. And it's those veterans that have to show the kids how to do it. How to have patience. How to drive smart. But, you know what? Some of them just don't care. And that's a shame. They have so much talent...and they just don't care.

So, yes, we need more Tonys to help show them the way, however it's done. If NASCAR can't do it, then let the veterans show the hot shots any which way they can. I am so tired of everyone trying to be politically correct on the track. Let's go back to the racing we used to know when Dale Earnhardt was still around. When racing was racing and not Romper Room.

The Little Grass Hut

The only survivor of a shipwreck was
washed up on a small, uninhabited island.
He prayed feverishly for GOD to rescue
him, and everyday he scanned the horizon
for help, but none seemed forthcoming.

Exhausted, he eventually managed to
build a little hut out of driftwood
to protect himself from the elements
and to store his few possessions.

One day, after scavenging for food, he
arrived home to find his little hut in
flames with smoke rolling up to the sky.
The worst had happened! Everything was lost!
He was stunned with disbelief, grief, and anger.
"GOD, how could you do this to me?" he cried.

Early the next day he was awakened by
the sound of a ship that was approaching
the island. It had come to rescue him.
"How did you know I was here?" asked
the weary man of his rescuers.
"We saw your smoke signal," they replied.

Moral of the story: It's easy to get discouraged when
things are going bad, but we shouldn't lose heart,
because GOD is at work in our lives, even
in the midst of pain, and suffering.

Remember that, the next time your little hut seems
to be burning to the ground. It just may be a smoke
signal that summons the grace of GOD.

Sometimes I Wonder

When I was a kid, I couldn't get enough of corn on the cob. I continued to eat it as an adult. However, there came the day when I had to go on a serious diet and learned that corn was not a part of that diet.

To stop eating it I told myself that corn is fed to pigs to fatten them up and also there is no nutritional value in it. Oh, and that it comes out the same way it goes in ~ pretty much anyway. So what's the point in eating it other than it tastes good. Most forbidden foods do. That's not fair.

It's been at least 25 years since I've eaten any type of corn, much less corn on the cob. So when my husband brought home ten cobs of corn the other night I was taken aback. See, he's not allowed to eat it due to a past bout with diverticulitis.

Following is our conversation about this corn:

Me: Why did you bring this corn home?

Him: So you could eat it.

Me: Have you ever seen me eat corn anywhere, anytime, ever?

Him: No.

Me: Well didn't you think there was a reason for that?

Him: No, what?

Me: That I don't eat it.

So he took it to work the next day and gave it to someone.

Common sense tells one that if someones doesn't eat a particular food there is a reason for that. And he and I have had the discussion about why I don't eat corn many times. So, yeah, I was a little hurt that he brought corn home.

It almost reminded me of the caveman days when the big hunter would bring home the evening meal, drop it at his mate's feet, and expect her to skin it, cook it, and then burp him on top of all that. I don't play that game.

And I am still trying to figure out why the hell he did in the first place!

My Beanie Baby Collection

This photo shows a very tiny portion. These are all bears as is the majority of my collection.

I can't tell you when or why I started collecting them, but I can tell you when I stopped: June 1st a year ago. The day I lost my job. I was looking for an excuse to stop buying them but I was so addicted that no excuse was strong enough. So when that happened my mind was made up for me. Beanie Babies are not expensive. However, every month a new batch comes out. I was signed up at a local pharmacy gift center and whenever the new ones came in they would give me a call. Sometimes there would only be one bear, other times as many as five or more bears, and I always bought every different bear they had.

And when I discovered the international bears on eBay (they were only available through a second market), that's when the costs really went up. And then there was the TY Store where that was the only place you could buy certain Beanies. And I did. Every time there was a bear introduced I would order it. There were other non-bear Beanies that I bought too. Oh, and I also subscribed to Beanie Of The Month, where they would send a different special Beanie every month. So you can see I was way out of hand. Not to mention that I stopped putting them in those plastic cases not only because they also cost money, but because I was running out of room. So I put them in their own little plastic bag and then into a larger tote. Not just one tote mind you. Many totes.

Since I stopped collecting, my interest in them has fallen way off. And now I just don't know what to do with them. Not only are they taking up room they are also just sitting here doing nothing. Maybe one day I'll think of something. Hopefully before I get too old to care.

I Have What Syndrome?

Those of my regular readers know that I have an older brother and a younger sister. That makes me *drum roll please* the...middle...child.

And yes, I have suffered from Middle Child Syndrome. I suppose most of it was in my mind though.

My brother was born first. That made him the first child, the first grandchild, plus he was a boy which made it twice as bad.

Two and a half years later along came me. Ho hum...just another baby. I can say, however, that I was "Daddy's girl." Not to mention that I was now the baby of the family...for five and a half years at least, until my sister was born.

No longer the baby and now the dreaded middle child.

Let me explain why I feel the middle child gets gypped. (This only works for a three-child family, I think.)

The first born gets all the attention. All their "firsts" are played up. They can do no wrong. Grandparents dote on them. When the second child comes along, the parents feel they've "been there, done that." Yawn. Ho hum. The last child then becomes the baby and by this time the parents are usually in a better position financially, so they can afford to do more for that child.

That is how I felt growing up. I'm not saying that's the way it was; rather, I am saying that's the way it felt.

Now that I'm older and look back, it was kind of silly to feel that way. My parents never liked one child over another. Well, maybe my sister got away with a lot more than us two older kids, but...she was the baby.

Patience Please

Having huge computer problems. Trying to work them out with server. Was not able to get on all day Thursday and most of Friday morning. Things are looking better. I was not able to connect to the internet. My morning was spent talking to several people. Once I uninstalled McAfee's firewall, everything seemed to be better. This is not the first time McAfee has given me a problem. Guess I should know better by now. I spent all of yesterday troubleshooting every possible outlet (without the use of the internet). Ack! I don't need this. I am a person who likes to have everything work when it's supposed to...forever. I know, in my dreams. So just be patient. I mean, it was me that hit MY head, not this dang computer, but it acted like it got beaten by someone or something.

This Is Nothing New

In my local newspaper last week there appeared this headline: Survey: 1 in 5 Workers Admits Lifting Office Supplies.

Oh puh-leeze! This has been going on for longer than anyone cares to remember. Yes, I believe just about everyone does it, so that makes it more than 1 in 5. Some people do it knowing full well that they are stealing but they don't see it that way ~ or they justify it somehow. Some people do it inadvertently and probably unknowingly. How is that you ask? I'm so glad you did.

A few paper clips here, a pen there, markers, a roll of tape and it soon leads to bigger things. A desk? Hardly. Just kidding with that one. Seriously, I think pens are the most popular. You use it all day and somehow it travels home with you. The next day, after having left the other one at home, it now must be replaced. Perfectly innocent.

Now I ask you, how is small-time office supply theft any different from the bosses who use a company car for personal travel or errands? Now that's huge compared to a few pens. The sad thing is they don't see it that way. But they are the first one to blame an office worker of theft. Go figure.

The article talked about taking a ream of paper. Now that's outright theft. Not to mention how they snuck it out in the first place.

I'm now gone from my job over a year. Yes, I have a few pens but they have the company logo on them. The same pens that are given to customers. No theft there. I also have a nice supply of "used" printer paper. But I had to work hard for that supply. Every time the printer spit something out, the first page was blank. Almost everyone would set them aside, in a pile, and we all took turns taking the used paper home.

So I sit here thinking this phenomenon goes on everywhere on a daily basis. They certainly don't need a survey to ascertain that it does indeed happen.

And if a company has a high theft rate of office supplies, then they should keep them under lock and key and not have them so readily available to the light-fingered Louie's of the world.

This 'n' That

My thoughts on Sunday's race are few. For the most part I thought it was a tad boring. Junior started 25th and by lap 110 he was leading. And did so for the next 27 laps. He was enjoying himself tremendously because he found a neat way which involved rim-riding. I was getting a kick out of him because he was having so much fun. He finished fifth and still holds third in the points. I'm happy with that.

What I wasn't happy with was how the so-called winner of the race got the lead at the end. What he did was totally uncalled for and all I can say is one word: retaliation. I know there are a lot of people that think otherwise, calling it a "racing deal." But in my mind's eye I recall seeing Gordon shoving Kenseth in the past which took place when they were both out of their cars. Gordon could have passed Kenseth clean (there was plenty room to do so), but like the whining little girl that he is, he chose the coward's way. And I have this to say to him:



On another note...welcome aboard Juan Pablo Montoya. He'll be driving the #42 Texaco Havoline Ford for Chip Ganassi in 2007. Once his stint in the F-1 series is over in October, he will "go to work" to learn all he can about driving a stockcar.

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

Sorry I wasn't around much last week but D was on vacation and was sick two days, we had a lot to do around the house, plus my fall early in the week ~ well...that's my story and I'm stickin' to it.

The good news is D's back to work and I'm back on my schedule. You didn't think I was gonna let you off that easy, now did you?

Should Have Had A 5th On The 4th

I know, I know...I don't drink booze. However, after what happened to me I think it would have dulled the pain. I'm still a hurtin' puppy.

We decided to try and do the deck. Hauled out the pressure washer and all the other necessary things to do what we wanted to do. My husband even went to the store in the morning and picked up a can of white paint so he could finally paint the portion over the top of our patio doors at the peak below the roof.

I decided I was finally going to try and clean the resin chairs that were stacked and kept on the deck for, oh I think it's around a year and half. Never used them, but darn they were stacked neatly in two stacks all that time. Two white chairs, 4 beige chairs. I used a patio furniture cleaner specifically for resin type furniture. After doing one I mentioned that I was just going to have to toss them out. What a joke trying to clean them. Then we decided maybe we could buy paint that they make for that type furniture. So I set all those chairs aside. Just a tad disgusted at that point.

D was going to paint the peak first, so he laid out the tarp. It didn't take long for the storm to move in. I swear it waited till we got that far. I've never seen clouds swirl like those did. Black and ominous and carrying on like the dickens.

Meanwhile D decided to try and pressure wash the chairs that I worked so hard to get clean but didn't. And guess what...they look like new! But he got my kitchen window wet and misty and that bothered me so I went inside for the Windex and some paper towels. My kitchen window is my window to the world. That is where I watch the cats and kittens and all their antics.

The window is right above our slanted steel double doors that lead to the basement. It was wet and I was barefoot. I slowly walked up and did the window, turned around and ever so slowly I deliberately slid down. I almost made it too. At the bottom was some mud, slimy and slippery. When my feet hit that they went out from under me, my butt hit next and my head bounced off the steel doors so hard that my sunglasses flew behind me. I sat there awhile. D asked me if I was alright. Well who can tell when something like that happens. I thought I cracked my head open. I was so mad I went inside and took a shower, washed my hair and read some of the book I am currently reading.

That was Tuesday, the 4th. The next day EVERYTHING hurt like a bugger. I could hardly walk. But I expect I will be okay in the long run. It takes a lot more than that to keep me down.

And the deck never did get done. We will try and do that sometime today. If I can keep myself on two feet, that is.

Two Down & One To Go

We will be staying home today and will attempt to pressure wash and then paint our deck. I say attempt because there is a possibility of rain. But my husband promised it will get done before he goes back to work next Monday.

We finally saw Cars last night. Cute movie. Junior "appeared" twice as the voice for the 8 car and again during the credits. I adore Owen Wilson, the voice of Lightening McQueen. I especially loved the part where Mater takes Lightening to do some "cow tipping" which isn't really cows, but I don't want to spoil it for those of you who haven't seen the movie yet.
Oh, and another cute part: when the Piston Cup was mentioned, Mater said "He did what in a cup?"

We are going to try and see Pirates of The Caribbean, Dead Man's Chest this weekend. I have been salivating ever since I heard about it last year. Johnny Depp...another one of my fantasies. I'll just let it go at that.

Have a good one and enjoy your day.

Has It Been A Year Already?

When I first started this blog a year ago, I had no idea where I was going with it or how long it would last. My first posts, for quite awhile, were full of anger because I had been "left go" at a job I held for 13 years. I was so hurt by what the new manager did, that I started this blog and lashed out the only way I knew how: with words directed at him and certain co-workers.

Eventually I deleted the worst ones. Some remain. But I still believe in what I had written back then. When I deleted them I felt like I had truly let myself down. It took me a full year to finally let go of that anger, which I did on June 1st of this year. That was my one year anniversary of termination. I figured it was time.

When I first started blogging, my posts were quite short. I really didn't know what I was doing, but just as I do today I tried my best back then.

I also questioned myself quite regularly.

I was my worst critic.

I still am.

I think I've come a long way since those first weeks, but know one thing for sure: I always tell the truth. That's the one thing about me that you can take to the bank, as they say.