December 29, 2017
8:38 p.m.
Well, the past few days have been wonderfully hectic. I had a house full of grandchildren, messes everywhere. noise, noise, noise. You know the drill.
It was great.
My daughter and her three children left today to return to Oklahoma, and we're down to two kids in the house. The noise level dropped dramatically.
I'm not sure that's an improvement. Ha ha!
Now I am just waiting for the phone call that tells me they have arrived home safely. That's the hardest part, second only to saying goodbye. My daughter told me that I have to keep watching until they turn the corner and drive out of sight, but I have never been able to do that. Once they're in the car and I say "Good-bye! I love you!" three or four times, I have to turn and walk away.
When we were kids, we would come to Denver to spend Easter with my father's parents. My grandmother would tell us goodbye and then go to her room. When we asked why she didn't ever walk out with us, Grandpa explained that it made her too sad to see us leave.
I totally get that now. Totally.
_________________________________________________________________________________
Naturally, I have contracted the end-of-the-year cold. Every year, man. It never fails. I'm sitting here all hot and cold. chest congested and nose stuffy. eyes too heavy to stay open and instead of being smart and hauling my big old butt off to bed, I'm writing.
Silly old woman!
I'm noticing a marked increase in typos. I guess it might be time to curl up under a big pile of blankets and watch a movie.
Oh yeah!! I just bought "Fiddler on the Roof!"
Hmm. I might actually fall asleep. I don't want to miss any of that movie.
I can wait. Can't sing along right now, anyway. *Cough, hack*
_________________________________________________________________________________
This turned into just a quick check-in, didn't it? But I'm out! Good-night!!
Friday, December 29, 2017
Wednesday, December 27, 2017
Zombies vs Cheetos
December 26, 2017
12:01 a.m.
I have a particular holiday tradition that my family tolerates, rather than enjoys with me. I love the movie "A Christmas Story", and I like to watch it on Christmas Day while preparing the meal.
I didn't get to watch it. I started it, but then the room filled with people demanding to watch something else.
I tried to watch again this afternoon, and...NOPE.
So I'm trying again, but the kids are so noisy--yes, I know, it's past bedtime--I can't hear it!!
I WILL watch my movie, I WILL watch my movie, I WILL, I WILL, I WILL.
Hahaha! Maybe some time in June...
_________________________________________________________________________________
December 27, 2017
12:01 a.m.
I started talking about fear a while back, and for some reason got sidetracked and didn't continue. In light of the past eleven months' worth of country-wide hate and stupidity, I'm ready to go on to:
Fear Part Five
2017 has been a hellacious year.
Yes, on a personal level, many good things have happened. My son got married. I took grandchildren to Comic-Con. I attended two family reunions. All of my children are here for Christmas. Family members with health problems are doing better.
But this past year has been a disaster area for the good old USA.
Before we start a political party debate, let me be clear-- this isn't about parties. This is about people.
I never knew until this year how many hateful people there really are out there. A perfectly innocuous remark--say, "Merry Christmas"--can lead to some of the most vile remarks from random people that I have ever seen in my life.
If you don't find this scary, I envy you. The amount of hate being spewed by Americans at other Americans has led me to fear for the future of this country.
I'll tell you why.
Enemies of this country are more than happy to use our disagreements and debates against us. It gives them a lot less work to do in dividing our country against itself.
Random and senseless attacks are increasing month by month. School shootings, homicide by vehicle, you name it, we've seen far too much of it already, and I fear it will just get worse.
Seeds of distrust are being rapidly sewn throughout every possible arena--the workplace, the media, the film and television industry, and certainly the political arena.
When I was a kid, we swore never to trust anyone over thirty. Today, we should probably swear to trust no one at all.
I fear that in this present atmosphere, we are in serious danger of getting involved in war.
Then what? I barely scrape by paycheck to paycheck. I can't afford a bomb shelter. I can't afford to steal my family away to a remote location and live off the grid--which I would dearly love to be able to to, because--yeah, can't trust anyone anymore.
It's a sad, sad thing to realize that your biggest fear might be that the people in charge of your own country are the ones who are most likely to harm you, and the ones most likely to destroy the futures of your younger family members.
It's a sickening fear, and one I find harder and harder to shake.
I am generally a glass-half-full gal, but when discussing fear, you have to hit on those things that steal through your mind when you can't get to sleep at night.
I keep envisioning scenarios designed to protect my children and grandchildren when all hell breaks loose. How to build and stock an underground bunker. What books to hoard for the future education of the children. How to grow vegetables in less-than-ideal conditions. How to avoid radiation poisoning.
Believe me, I'd rather be planning a family trip to Disneyland. The above random thoughts don't do much to induce restful sleep.
And no, I did not just watch some apocalyptic feature film.
Nowhere in my youthful imaginings did I ever envision the end of the USA I know and love, and certainly never due to stupidity, but it now seems to be a valid fear.
Disheartening, isn't it?
In spite of all, I allow myself to hope. 2018 is coming very soon. Things can get better...
Right?
_________________________________________________________________________________
On a bit of a sillier note--what do you think? Would radiation exposure have anything to do with zombie evolution?
I don't want to become a zombie. I can't think of eating brains without feeling queasy. I don't want meat less than medium-well done, either, so....
Don't want to be a zombie, folks.
I also don't want to have to kill someone I love after they've become a zombie.
Oh, damn. In none of my off-the-grid life-in-a-bunker plans do I have a huge arsenal of weapons. Just vegetable seeds and books and canned goods. Fuel of some sort. Gardening tools.
I'm going to have to re-think the whole thing if there's going to be zombies.
Shoot.
I mean...
Yeah.
Well, whatever. With the present Senate and House--not to mention the Cheeto-in-Chief-- why would I be afraid of zombies? I've got enough to worry about.
(Why do I keep disparaging Cheetos? I LIKE Cheetos!)
_________________________________________________________________________________
Can I vent a bit about weapons? Please?
I have grandsons. I love them so much.
I hate their toys. Guns, swords, knives. Sooner or later, someone gets it with one or the other. As if they don't take every opportunity to push, poke and hit already! Not to mention the yelling and screaming and running. In the house!
No, no, and NO.
I never allowed those things in my house when my kids were growing up. After witnessing the chaos around here the past couple of days, I know I was absolutely right to ban them. I have confiscated them several times. I'm on the verge of hauling the lot right out to the dumpster.
And okay, that might be drastic, but at the very LEAST, they should only be outdoor toys. I'm too old to be subjected to that melee.
So I have three out of four grandsons who are from Oklahoma and wimps in the cold. Jeez! I can't even throw them outside. They whine if it's under 55 degrees.
They'd die in five minutes in Wyoming!
One more weapons attack, and the darned things are going to be in the top of my closet until summer.
Of all the great toys out there, why? Why??
This will probably piss off my daughters. Oh, well!
_________________________________________________________________________________
Why are we all still up?
Oh, yeah. It's vacation time.
It's so cold, and there's a puppy in training in the house. Brr. She's an Oklahoman, too, poor thing. I really hate putting animals out in the cold. Four degrees! Yikes!
_________________________________________________________________________________
Okay, enough already. I'm turning everything off in hopes that the kiddos will fall out. They are still so excited over Christmas, and the fact that they're all together.
Good night!
12:01 a.m.
I have a particular holiday tradition that my family tolerates, rather than enjoys with me. I love the movie "A Christmas Story", and I like to watch it on Christmas Day while preparing the meal.
I didn't get to watch it. I started it, but then the room filled with people demanding to watch something else.
I tried to watch again this afternoon, and...NOPE.
So I'm trying again, but the kids are so noisy--yes, I know, it's past bedtime--I can't hear it!!
I WILL watch my movie, I WILL watch my movie, I WILL, I WILL, I WILL.
Hahaha! Maybe some time in June...
_________________________________________________________________________________
December 27, 2017
12:01 a.m.
I started talking about fear a while back, and for some reason got sidetracked and didn't continue. In light of the past eleven months' worth of country-wide hate and stupidity, I'm ready to go on to:
Fear Part Five
2017 has been a hellacious year.
Yes, on a personal level, many good things have happened. My son got married. I took grandchildren to Comic-Con. I attended two family reunions. All of my children are here for Christmas. Family members with health problems are doing better.
But this past year has been a disaster area for the good old USA.
Before we start a political party debate, let me be clear-- this isn't about parties. This is about people.
I never knew until this year how many hateful people there really are out there. A perfectly innocuous remark--say, "Merry Christmas"--can lead to some of the most vile remarks from random people that I have ever seen in my life.
If you don't find this scary, I envy you. The amount of hate being spewed by Americans at other Americans has led me to fear for the future of this country.
I'll tell you why.
Enemies of this country are more than happy to use our disagreements and debates against us. It gives them a lot less work to do in dividing our country against itself.
Random and senseless attacks are increasing month by month. School shootings, homicide by vehicle, you name it, we've seen far too much of it already, and I fear it will just get worse.
Seeds of distrust are being rapidly sewn throughout every possible arena--the workplace, the media, the film and television industry, and certainly the political arena.
When I was a kid, we swore never to trust anyone over thirty. Today, we should probably swear to trust no one at all.
I fear that in this present atmosphere, we are in serious danger of getting involved in war.
Then what? I barely scrape by paycheck to paycheck. I can't afford a bomb shelter. I can't afford to steal my family away to a remote location and live off the grid--which I would dearly love to be able to to, because--yeah, can't trust anyone anymore.
It's a sad, sad thing to realize that your biggest fear might be that the people in charge of your own country are the ones who are most likely to harm you, and the ones most likely to destroy the futures of your younger family members.
It's a sickening fear, and one I find harder and harder to shake.
I am generally a glass-half-full gal, but when discussing fear, you have to hit on those things that steal through your mind when you can't get to sleep at night.
I keep envisioning scenarios designed to protect my children and grandchildren when all hell breaks loose. How to build and stock an underground bunker. What books to hoard for the future education of the children. How to grow vegetables in less-than-ideal conditions. How to avoid radiation poisoning.
Believe me, I'd rather be planning a family trip to Disneyland. The above random thoughts don't do much to induce restful sleep.
And no, I did not just watch some apocalyptic feature film.
Nowhere in my youthful imaginings did I ever envision the end of the USA I know and love, and certainly never due to stupidity, but it now seems to be a valid fear.
Disheartening, isn't it?
In spite of all, I allow myself to hope. 2018 is coming very soon. Things can get better...
Right?
_________________________________________________________________________________
On a bit of a sillier note--what do you think? Would radiation exposure have anything to do with zombie evolution?
I don't want to become a zombie. I can't think of eating brains without feeling queasy. I don't want meat less than medium-well done, either, so....
Don't want to be a zombie, folks.
I also don't want to have to kill someone I love after they've become a zombie.
Oh, damn. In none of my off-the-grid life-in-a-bunker plans do I have a huge arsenal of weapons. Just vegetable seeds and books and canned goods. Fuel of some sort. Gardening tools.
I'm going to have to re-think the whole thing if there's going to be zombies.
Shoot.
I mean...
Yeah.
Well, whatever. With the present Senate and House--not to mention the Cheeto-in-Chief-- why would I be afraid of zombies? I've got enough to worry about.
(Why do I keep disparaging Cheetos? I LIKE Cheetos!)
_________________________________________________________________________________
Can I vent a bit about weapons? Please?
I have grandsons. I love them so much.
I hate their toys. Guns, swords, knives. Sooner or later, someone gets it with one or the other. As if they don't take every opportunity to push, poke and hit already! Not to mention the yelling and screaming and running. In the house!
No, no, and NO.
I never allowed those things in my house when my kids were growing up. After witnessing the chaos around here the past couple of days, I know I was absolutely right to ban them. I have confiscated them several times. I'm on the verge of hauling the lot right out to the dumpster.
And okay, that might be drastic, but at the very LEAST, they should only be outdoor toys. I'm too old to be subjected to that melee.
So I have three out of four grandsons who are from Oklahoma and wimps in the cold. Jeez! I can't even throw them outside. They whine if it's under 55 degrees.
They'd die in five minutes in Wyoming!
One more weapons attack, and the darned things are going to be in the top of my closet until summer.
Of all the great toys out there, why? Why??
This will probably piss off my daughters. Oh, well!
_________________________________________________________________________________
Why are we all still up?
Oh, yeah. It's vacation time.
It's so cold, and there's a puppy in training in the house. Brr. She's an Oklahoman, too, poor thing. I really hate putting animals out in the cold. Four degrees! Yikes!
_________________________________________________________________________________
Okay, enough already. I'm turning everything off in hopes that the kiddos will fall out. They are still so excited over Christmas, and the fact that they're all together.
Good night!
Tuesday, December 26, 2017
December26, 2017
5:20 p.m.
Oh, my gosh! It's the day after Christmas! 2017 is almost over!
I have a pretty good list of friends on Facebook, and the last couple of days the posts have been just wonderful. Pictures of families. Well wishes for the upcoming year. Kids playing with presents.
Too bad it won't last. I know the politics and the arguing will resume shortly.
In the meantime, I'm enjoying myself!
_________________________________________________________________________________
6:08 p.m.
We shared a delicious meal with extended family/friends yesterday, and it was pretty amazing to find myself seated with all my children--quite by lucky chance.
For several years now it has been our custom to make a variety of Mexican foods, gather the families together and chow down. We were lucky enough to have decent weather and good roads so that there were no problems getting to our destination.
What a great time. Such good people to spend time with. How lucky am I?
_________________________________________________________________________________
Before the meal, a great deal of cooking was done, and I have to say--I need a double oven! Hahaha!
Somehow or other, I didn't ever get around to doing the baking I usually do this time of year. I'm going to blame it on our mixed up sleep patterns. (Instead of even considering admitting I just didn't wanna!) I will try to get some baking done soon, though. It is really winter here now, and I like to bake in the winter. Pumpkin muffins. Chocolate chip cookies. Peanut butter cookies. The classics, you know.
_________________________________________________________________________________
And even before the cooking started, there was the onslaught of flying wrapping paper.
House is a mess. (We're trying!)
Today the house is full of people. It's really, really noisy in here.
The kids are wound up, playing with all their Christmas gifts.
The teen girls are playing UNO in the dining room and singing.
The Moms are running around like mad, trying to keep up with it all.
I have checked out for a moment to blog, in between cuddles and hugs and the occasional scolding. Kids be crazy!
_________________________________________________________________________________
Think I'm done for the night! Gotta chase toddlers!
Happy Holidays!
5:20 p.m.
Oh, my gosh! It's the day after Christmas! 2017 is almost over!
I have a pretty good list of friends on Facebook, and the last couple of days the posts have been just wonderful. Pictures of families. Well wishes for the upcoming year. Kids playing with presents.
Too bad it won't last. I know the politics and the arguing will resume shortly.
In the meantime, I'm enjoying myself!
_________________________________________________________________________________
6:08 p.m.
We shared a delicious meal with extended family/friends yesterday, and it was pretty amazing to find myself seated with all my children--quite by lucky chance.
For several years now it has been our custom to make a variety of Mexican foods, gather the families together and chow down. We were lucky enough to have decent weather and good roads so that there were no problems getting to our destination.
What a great time. Such good people to spend time with. How lucky am I?
_________________________________________________________________________________
Before the meal, a great deal of cooking was done, and I have to say--I need a double oven! Hahaha!
Somehow or other, I didn't ever get around to doing the baking I usually do this time of year. I'm going to blame it on our mixed up sleep patterns. (Instead of even considering admitting I just didn't wanna!) I will try to get some baking done soon, though. It is really winter here now, and I like to bake in the winter. Pumpkin muffins. Chocolate chip cookies. Peanut butter cookies. The classics, you know.
_________________________________________________________________________________
And even before the cooking started, there was the onslaught of flying wrapping paper.
House is a mess. (We're trying!)
Today the house is full of people. It's really, really noisy in here.
The kids are wound up, playing with all their Christmas gifts.
The teen girls are playing UNO in the dining room and singing.
The Moms are running around like mad, trying to keep up with it all.
I have checked out for a moment to blog, in between cuddles and hugs and the occasional scolding. Kids be crazy!
_________________________________________________________________________________
Think I'm done for the night! Gotta chase toddlers!
Happy Holidays!
Monday, December 25, 2017
December 25, 2017
1:34 a.m.
Merry Christmas!
I can't believe that people are still up in this house.
So much to do in just a few hours. Gotta cook, gotta go to our friends' house for dinner--whew, it should prove to be quite a day!
I am missing my Wyoming family, but I'm also feeling mighty blessed this Christmas, because I will be spending it with all four of my children and all nine of my grandchildren. So who's a lucky lady? That would be me!
Did I mention that I got professional photos for Christmas? I'm so thrilled.
Looking forward to a wonderful day.
I hope you all have the Happiest of Holidays!!
1:34 a.m.
Merry Christmas!
I can't believe that people are still up in this house.
So much to do in just a few hours. Gotta cook, gotta go to our friends' house for dinner--whew, it should prove to be quite a day!
I am missing my Wyoming family, but I'm also feeling mighty blessed this Christmas, because I will be spending it with all four of my children and all nine of my grandchildren. So who's a lucky lady? That would be me!
Did I mention that I got professional photos for Christmas? I'm so thrilled.
Looking forward to a wonderful day.
I hope you all have the Happiest of Holidays!!
Thursday, December 21, 2017
December 20, 2017
11:52 p.m.
"Oh, dear Lord. You made many, many poor people. I realize of course that it's no shame to be poor; but it's no great honor either. So what would have been so terrible it I had a small fortune? If I were a rich man..."
I really, really want to watch Fiddler on the Roof right now!!
You know, I am really fond of musicals, and I have many favorites, but this is probably my number one favorite forever.
And I don't own a copy! How did that even happen? I used to have the soundtrack, but...that damn fire. It has been over twenty years, and still, every now and then I go looking for something I know I owned and am reminded all over again of something that was lost.
Phooey.
Guess I'll put that on my wish list...
_________________________________________________________________________________
I've been noticing a lot of people debating the "Merry Christmas" vs "Happy Holidays" greetings AGAIN.
Can we just stop? Telling me it's not "Happy Holidays", it's "Merry Christmas" is, to me, just like saying it's not "Hi", it's "Hello".
This is just petty and stupid and makes absolutely no sense whatsoever. It's a greeting, people. It's a way of acknowledging the season, it's a way of making contact in a friendly way, and it is in no way offensive to choose one greeting or the other. If someone takes offense when I offer them a nice greeting, that's their own issue.
Look, if I know for an absolute fact that the friend I am greeting is Jewish, I will say "Happy Hanukkah". If I know for an absolute fact that they are Christians who celebrate Christmas, I will say "Merry Christmas". But if I don't know, I'm sticking with "Happy Holidays". It covers everything.
And if someone should happen to wish me a Blessed Kwanzaa or whatever, I'm going to wish them the same with a smile on my face and with no thoughts whatsoever of being offended. They have wished me well, for crying out loud. What's offensive about that?
_________________________________________________________________________________
December 21, 2017
12:47 a.m.
Whoops! Really? Where did I go for the last hour?
Oh, yeah. Trying to get Christmas stuff done while there's no little girl in my lap. Ha ha! She's not interested in wrapping, she's ready to do some unwrapping. Waiting is so hard.
This house is full of boxes. Why can't I find the right size? Dang it.
I'm going to do some creative cardboard trimming. That'll work.
Or...I could sneak off right now and go to bed.
Yeah. Good idea.
Good night!
11:52 p.m.
"Oh, dear Lord. You made many, many poor people. I realize of course that it's no shame to be poor; but it's no great honor either. So what would have been so terrible it I had a small fortune? If I were a rich man..."
I really, really want to watch Fiddler on the Roof right now!!
You know, I am really fond of musicals, and I have many favorites, but this is probably my number one favorite forever.
And I don't own a copy! How did that even happen? I used to have the soundtrack, but...that damn fire. It has been over twenty years, and still, every now and then I go looking for something I know I owned and am reminded all over again of something that was lost.
Phooey.
Guess I'll put that on my wish list...
_________________________________________________________________________________
I've been noticing a lot of people debating the "Merry Christmas" vs "Happy Holidays" greetings AGAIN.
Can we just stop? Telling me it's not "Happy Holidays", it's "Merry Christmas" is, to me, just like saying it's not "Hi", it's "Hello".
This is just petty and stupid and makes absolutely no sense whatsoever. It's a greeting, people. It's a way of acknowledging the season, it's a way of making contact in a friendly way, and it is in no way offensive to choose one greeting or the other. If someone takes offense when I offer them a nice greeting, that's their own issue.
Look, if I know for an absolute fact that the friend I am greeting is Jewish, I will say "Happy Hanukkah". If I know for an absolute fact that they are Christians who celebrate Christmas, I will say "Merry Christmas". But if I don't know, I'm sticking with "Happy Holidays". It covers everything.
And if someone should happen to wish me a Blessed Kwanzaa or whatever, I'm going to wish them the same with a smile on my face and with no thoughts whatsoever of being offended. They have wished me well, for crying out loud. What's offensive about that?
_________________________________________________________________________________
December 21, 2017
12:47 a.m.
Whoops! Really? Where did I go for the last hour?
Oh, yeah. Trying to get Christmas stuff done while there's no little girl in my lap. Ha ha! She's not interested in wrapping, she's ready to do some unwrapping. Waiting is so hard.
This house is full of boxes. Why can't I find the right size? Dang it.
I'm going to do some creative cardboard trimming. That'll work.
Or...I could sneak off right now and go to bed.
Yeah. Good idea.
Good night!
Tuesday, December 19, 2017
December 18, 2017
4:55 p.m.
Hello, there!
Remember me saying that half of us in this house are seriously off schedule? Yeah? Well, not getting any better yet.
I am tired. Considering an on-purpose awake-a-thon to try to get the kiddo sleeping through the night again, instead of her wanting to be asleep half the day with her mom.
Nah. That would be a miserable experiment.
This shall prove interesting.
_________________________________________________________________________________
6:14 p.m.
I'm so proud of myself right now. I dropped a card behind the fireplace, so I rigged up my grandson's sword with some tape and I fished that thing right out of there. Good for me!
Um...things that generally don't twist on me were twisted in the accomplishment of this enormously heroic feat. Hope I can move later!
Hahahaha!!
_________________________________________________________________________________
9:26 p.m.
I should know better than to try writing in the afternoons.
Toddler cut her finger and had to be bandaged. Her mother was all on board for those festivities, and all I had to do is supply the bandages. I'm so glad I had some stashed. The cool neon cartoon-character bandages are all gone--of course.
Then Mama went to get some sleep, and we had to have macaroni and cheese and a popsicle and a stroll through some photos on my computer. We ran across a photo of a room decorated with Minnie Mouse theme, and my precious baby said, "That my yoom! I seep in dat bed?" (That's my room! Can I sleep in that bed.)
Gosh, I wish I had the resources to give her that room.
"Is that your dream room?" I asked her.
"Yeah," she said, nodding vigorously. "Fo sun day." (For someday.)
It's good to have goals...
_________________________________________________________________________________
I'm so lucky. Not everyone gets to hang out with the grandbabies this often. It's a precious blessing. Any time I get worn out from trying to get us on a sleep schedule with some semblance of sanity, I remind myself of this.
My grandson just asked me if I was a fan of Bobby Vinton when I was a teenager. I wonder how old he thinks I am? Ha ha! He's been listening to the song "Blue Velvet" and learning the words. He was born in the wrong era. That boy is a fan of really GOOD music.
I had him look up the song "Twilight Time". That was a number one song in the late 1950's. I watched his face as he listened. Serious music appreciation in that expression, let me tell you. He's off in the bedroom learning the words.
These things make me happy.
_________________________________________________________________________________
9:55 p.m.
I like wandering through the posts on Facebook, seeing what my family and friends are up to. I especially enjoy seeing Holiday posts--decorations, shopping trips, opening presents, etc.
But today I have had a frustratingly hard time while browsing, because people are posting spoilers for the new Star Wars movie. I havent' made it to the theater yet. Knock it off, please, please!! I can't scroll fast enough past these posts! Aughhhhh!!
_________________________________________________________________________________
It has been well over a decade since I last put up a Christmas tree. I have to say, I am enjoying having it up, even if I did knock a card off of it earlier. There are gifts under there, and the pile keeps growing. If all goes according to plan, all nine of my grandchildren will be here to open presents and make a ton of messes in my house on Christmas, and that is so wonderful I can't even express it. I'm praying nothing comes up to change the plan.
_________________________________________________________________________________
It would appear that I'm not getting any more writing done today.
Ta ta for now!
4:55 p.m.
Hello, there!
Remember me saying that half of us in this house are seriously off schedule? Yeah? Well, not getting any better yet.
I am tired. Considering an on-purpose awake-a-thon to try to get the kiddo sleeping through the night again, instead of her wanting to be asleep half the day with her mom.
Nah. That would be a miserable experiment.
This shall prove interesting.
_________________________________________________________________________________
6:14 p.m.
I'm so proud of myself right now. I dropped a card behind the fireplace, so I rigged up my grandson's sword with some tape and I fished that thing right out of there. Good for me!
Um...things that generally don't twist on me were twisted in the accomplishment of this enormously heroic feat. Hope I can move later!
Hahahaha!!
_________________________________________________________________________________
9:26 p.m.
I should know better than to try writing in the afternoons.
Toddler cut her finger and had to be bandaged. Her mother was all on board for those festivities, and all I had to do is supply the bandages. I'm so glad I had some stashed. The cool neon cartoon-character bandages are all gone--of course.
Then Mama went to get some sleep, and we had to have macaroni and cheese and a popsicle and a stroll through some photos on my computer. We ran across a photo of a room decorated with Minnie Mouse theme, and my precious baby said, "That my yoom! I seep in dat bed?" (That's my room! Can I sleep in that bed.)
Gosh, I wish I had the resources to give her that room.
"Is that your dream room?" I asked her.
"Yeah," she said, nodding vigorously. "Fo sun day." (For someday.)
It's good to have goals...
_________________________________________________________________________________
I'm so lucky. Not everyone gets to hang out with the grandbabies this often. It's a precious blessing. Any time I get worn out from trying to get us on a sleep schedule with some semblance of sanity, I remind myself of this.
My grandson just asked me if I was a fan of Bobby Vinton when I was a teenager. I wonder how old he thinks I am? Ha ha! He's been listening to the song "Blue Velvet" and learning the words. He was born in the wrong era. That boy is a fan of really GOOD music.
I had him look up the song "Twilight Time". That was a number one song in the late 1950's. I watched his face as he listened. Serious music appreciation in that expression, let me tell you. He's off in the bedroom learning the words.
These things make me happy.
_________________________________________________________________________________
9:55 p.m.
I like wandering through the posts on Facebook, seeing what my family and friends are up to. I especially enjoy seeing Holiday posts--decorations, shopping trips, opening presents, etc.
But today I have had a frustratingly hard time while browsing, because people are posting spoilers for the new Star Wars movie. I havent' made it to the theater yet. Knock it off, please, please!! I can't scroll fast enough past these posts! Aughhhhh!!
_________________________________________________________________________________
It has been well over a decade since I last put up a Christmas tree. I have to say, I am enjoying having it up, even if I did knock a card off of it earlier. There are gifts under there, and the pile keeps growing. If all goes according to plan, all nine of my grandchildren will be here to open presents and make a ton of messes in my house on Christmas, and that is so wonderful I can't even express it. I'm praying nothing comes up to change the plan.
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It would appear that I'm not getting any more writing done today.
Ta ta for now!
Saturday, December 16, 2017
December 16, 2017
5:03 p.m.
Got myself a nap and a shower and the toddler and I have been enjoying an afternoon of "Mickey Mouse Playhouse".
The grandson took advantage of nice weather and played outside all afternoon, and now the kiddos are filling up on fresh fruit and good stuff like that.
At some point their mom should be waking up, and then we'll figure out dinner.
Like I said yesterday, our schedules are a little weird around here.
Son and daughter-in-law are off to a holiday party. I kind of miss doing things like that.
_________________________________________________________________________________
I'm going to vent a little now.
How many of you have Messenger from Facebook? Do you get a lot of "chain mail" type messages? I sure do! And, dang, I hate that stuff! My old phone went bananas whenever I would get one, recalling every photo and message I had ever deleted--ever--and bringing it back, filling up the memory and screwing everything up.
I have never even installed it on my new phone. Who needs that happy crappy?
It is, however, on my PC and on my laptop, because my kids frequently use it to send me messages and pictures--you know, they use it as it should be used: for messages.
I have asked numerous times on my feed that people not send me flashing lights and sparkling bouquets of flowers and "pass this on or suffer a horrible death" messages, but no one ever pays attention, and so now I am once again deleting and deleting when I should be busy writing.
I don't want to get rid of messenger. I want those personal messages from family and friends. I just don't want the "junk mail".
What can I do? Is there a way to block that stuff? Someone help me out here!
_________________________________________________________________________________
I think I touched on the "#MeToo movement the other day... did I? I meant to. Whether I did or not, I'm going to talk a little about it today.
I often begin my day looking over news stories, as I'm sure many of you do as well. And these sexual misconduct accusations seem to be flying in faster and faster as each day passes.
Along with accusations and allegations, I'm seeing a lot of posts from men and also from women claiming disbelief. The victims are lying because they waited for decades to come forward. The victims are lying because real victims don't want to be identified in public.
I've also seen a few "she had it coming" posts and even a couple of "he should have finished the job" posts that I find reprehensible. Where does that kind of hate come from?!
I don't care much for this subject, but I could probably write a book and name names myself, and truthfully, most every other woman I know could do the same.
I mean, let's be honest here. It starts early and goes on forever. The first time I was sexually harassed, I was in second grade. Yes, for crying out loud, I was probably eight years old!
A neighborhood boy, a classmate, was always grabbing and trying to steal a kiss. He finally coerced me into giving that kiss by stealing my little brother's favorite Tonka truck and holding it hostage. I love my brother, okay? So I gave Bobby the damned kiss. Ugh! Repulsive! I took the truck home to my brother, and then I washed my face and brushed my teeth and sulked.
The next day, I punched the kid in the face. At school. Mrs. Fox made me stand in the corner and told me she was disappointed in me.
I'll say this for Mrs. Fox, though. The next year I told her why I punched Bobby, and she apologized for punishing me. She said I should have told her why right then, and she could have taken some sort of action. It was too late now, though-- he and his family had moved away.
My introduction to the idea of statutes of limitation.
She was right, or course; you should always tell. Tell an adult. Tell someone you trust.
But you know what? You don't.
Why?
Because even at the age of eight, there was this nagging thought in the back of my mind: What did I do or say to make him think he could get away with that?
And doggone it, down through the years I had many an occasion to have those thoughts again.
Many an occasion.
Many.
The arrival of the girls heralded in an era of behaviors by boys that I came to dismiss as just par for the course. A "boys will be boys" sort of thing.
Pokes and pinches. Questions like "When it rains, do your feet get wet?" Invitations to play tag or touch football that leads to being held too long, "accidental" chest gropes, etc.
You get the picture.
And that was sixth grade.
Whee!
So, did I run to the nearest adult and tattle? Nope. I learned how to use my elbows to good advantage and stamped on a foot or two, but mostly I just squirmed away and chalked it up to "stupid boys".
Some of those "stupid boys" could be reading this right now. Um, guys? You sucked. Big time. And the saddest part of it all is that because of the times and because it was "boys being boys" or whatever, you were too stupid to know you were stupid. You made me and a lot of other girls feel bad about our own bodies. Like we could do anything but grow up. Sheesh.
See, as I matured, I got comfortable with the girls. They fed my babies. I really pretty attached to them now; I hope to always keep them.
But at age 12? Age 15? Even 18? Not so much. They were at times a source of embarrassment, even shame. Certainly they gained me some unwanted attention.
Being a girl gained me unwanted attention, okay? From boys. From men.
Now, I was blessed with an intelligent and progressive-for-her-time mother and an even-more-progressive-for-her-time grandmother, so I was educated in the ways of "stupid boys" fairly early on, or things could have fared much more poorly for me than they did. I was smart enough and precocious enough to get myself out of situations that might have ended up so much worse than they did.
Even so, I was not a tattle tale. I let that nagging voice ask me over and over, what did I say or do? Why did this happen? What am I doing wrong?
And at the same time all this was going on, I knew damned well that I was not the pretty girl or the popular girl or the sexy girl, so...what the hell? Why the attention? What?
I didn't date a lot. The guys I crushed on didn't even know I was alive.
I didn't have a clue how to get the attention from the ones I liked and how to deflect the attention of the ones I wanted to leave me alone.
I was awash in self-doubt all the time.
I could go on, but I'm still not willing to be a public tattle tale. To this day, if I feel that some guy might be a problem in real life, I tell the people who I think need to be careful of being with them, but I've never taken it further than that.
Why? Well, like many women before me, I feared not being believed. You hear the horror stories--they're not new. "She was asking for it." "She's a tease." "She wanted it." Yada yada yada.
There were times when I knew it wasn't just me, and warnings were issued. Some girls ignored me, for whatever reason, and later returned with their own tales of woe. We commiserated. We said, "Stupid boys. Stupid men."
I will say this much: It is really no fun walking home from south hill in the middle of the night because you've been pushed out of the car for refusing to "put out". This happened before the days of cell phones. It was cold. It was really dark. It was scary.
But I was more scared of him coming back, still angry.
Not a fun night. Everytime I saw headlights, I hid. Yeah, it would have been nice to get a ride, but...just in case.
That was over forty years ago. Stupid guy.
(For the record, I told whoever I felt might need to know, if I knew they might end up alone on that same road. So there, stupid guy. But I didn't tell an adult, and I didn't call the cops. I just walked home, took a hot bath and went to bed and sulked.)
All that said, those were decisions I made at the time. If I found out now that that particular person was still in the area and that he might be continuing his nefarious ways, I could be prompted to change my mind. If he was now in the Senate, or the President, or a famous actor or director and I knew that he was still behaving like a notorious ass-hat, I would be motivated to speak up.
I lost track of him, though. Period.
That doesn't mean that I haven't regretted my law-related silence on the matter. I've regretted it plenty. I mean, there was yelling. There was shoving. There was desertion. I felt stupid and humiliated and pissed off. I got the buttons popped off my blouse, and when I landed on the ground, I got my clothes dirty. Other than that, I escaped relatively unscathed.
But what if he got more agressive with the passage of time? What if he started hitting? What if he ended up raping someone?
So I warned some girls when I found out they were planning to go out with him. Big la-dee-dah deal.
Because I was a chicken-shit, I didn't report him to anyone with authority.
Yeah, I've regretted it a lot. But it I'm honest, I don't think anyone would have done a thing. As far as it went, he didn't actually do much. At least as far as the law in that town at that time would have been concerned. And in the meantime, I probably would have gotten dragged through the mud, blamed for the assault, told to suck it up and deal, because "boys will be boys".
Damn it.
It plagues me. It has left me with a guilty feeling of having let some unknown someone down.
And that leads me to the women who have spoken out in recent weeks.
I believe them.
Here's the thing: They know where their offender is. They know where he's working, and whether or not he has continued to be a problem.
They have had time to wrestle with occurances. They may now have daughters of their own. The perspective of a mother vs the perspective of a young woman can be profoundly different. Things they justified in their own minds may no longer work when they ask themselves, "But what if this happened to my child?"
Those are good reasons to stop holding their tongues and speak out.
I think the reason so many people are willing to call these women liars is because they think the victims are seeking publicity. I'll go out on a limb and say that publicity is likely the very last thing they want. If attention to themselves was all they were after, they would have reported it when it happened. Believe me, that attention is never positive. Who in their right mind would want to be placed under a microscope and examined for every flaw, be it mode of dress, make-up choices, drinking or drug habits, sexual histories or what church they may or may not attend?
(For the record: No, I had not been drinking. No make-up. Grey flannel pants and a white blouse with a blue cardigan that was NOT heavy enough for the weather--if you're walking. Clogs. Also not great for walking. Catholic. Zero sexual history.)
(But who would have believed me?)
Also, who wants to go up against someone who already has the "power" position? Some of these allegations were teenaged girls abused by a thirty-something businessman. He's got money. He knows people. He is likely a master manipulator. He knows just what to say to assure a girl that he'll be believed and she won't.
Fear and intimidation are powerful things.
These women are not lying. They have no reason to. They are already being dragged through the mud, being put under that microscope. They have nothing to gain but their own peace of mind for finally stepping out and standing up. In the process they will lose their privacy and possibly their dignity. Because they are not the ones in positions of power.
I believe them. I believe they no longer want to feel guilty about possibly letting some unknown someone down.
Now, on the other side of this spectrum, you have allegations of harassment by men making off-colored jokes and maybe patting a backside or two, and I'm not sure how I feel about men losing jobs over things like that. These are guys who grew up in the "boys will be boys" era, and while these things are offensive, I've been assaulted by this behavior my whole life and never felt guilty about not reporting it.
I find a good many of today's so-called comedies more offensive, frankly.
So where do we draw the line? What is a punishable offense? I mean, sexual innuendo that's clearly targeting you vs a traveling salesman joke? People are all very different from one another, and what cracks one person up might send another to sob in the restroom.
Ah, the world is a crazy, messed up place, folks.
For me, the line is here: if a person tells you they don't want to be touched, then keep your hands to yourself. It doesn't matter if all you wanted was a hug. The other person didn't want it, so respect their bounderies. I don't care if said person is two, or twelve or twenty or ninety. I don't care if they are male or female. Hands off if you're not invited to touch. Period.
And you know what? This includes your children. If they don't want a kiss good-night, let it go. They'll probably want one tomorrow. If they don't want to be tickled right now, wait for a better time. Sure, they're laughing--until they cry. That's not fun. I've found that kids are very good at letting you know when they are in the mood for tickling, for a hug, for a good-night kiss. Forcing it on them when they're not in the mood for it sends a message to them that what they want isn't important, and that they have no control over what happens to their own bodies.
(For the record: I ALWAYS hated being tickled. No time was the right time. And I always ended up crying. It was not fun.)
I always ask my grandchildren for a hug or kiss. If they say no, I don't freak out about it. In the end, they come to me and I get plenty. But it's up to them to say yes or no. I ask before tickling. If they want to play, we do, and when they say stop, I stop. Because it can go from fun to torture really dang quick.
I guess, bottom line for me is, I don't think you should get fired if you tell me a dirty joke. But if you push me into a corner and try to shove your tongue down my throat or your hand up my skirt, you should be packing up your desk.
"Boys will be boys" my Aunt Fanny.
To end this, I want to very clearly state that although I had some ugly encounters with "stupid boys", I had FAR more positive encounters with some really great boys and men all my life. These were the ones who helped pick up the books the bully just swatted out of your arms, the ones who walked you home when it was getting dark, the ones who spent that extra minute or ten listening to you chat when they really wanted to play kickball.
My overall experience of men has been great. One bad apple--or a few bad apples-- never spoiled the whole batch, not for me, at least.
And I'm really, really glad that I know so many good apples.
#MeToo.
5:03 p.m.
Got myself a nap and a shower and the toddler and I have been enjoying an afternoon of "Mickey Mouse Playhouse".
The grandson took advantage of nice weather and played outside all afternoon, and now the kiddos are filling up on fresh fruit and good stuff like that.
At some point their mom should be waking up, and then we'll figure out dinner.
Like I said yesterday, our schedules are a little weird around here.
Son and daughter-in-law are off to a holiday party. I kind of miss doing things like that.
_________________________________________________________________________________
I'm going to vent a little now.
How many of you have Messenger from Facebook? Do you get a lot of "chain mail" type messages? I sure do! And, dang, I hate that stuff! My old phone went bananas whenever I would get one, recalling every photo and message I had ever deleted--ever--and bringing it back, filling up the memory and screwing everything up.
I have never even installed it on my new phone. Who needs that happy crappy?
It is, however, on my PC and on my laptop, because my kids frequently use it to send me messages and pictures--you know, they use it as it should be used: for messages.
I have asked numerous times on my feed that people not send me flashing lights and sparkling bouquets of flowers and "pass this on or suffer a horrible death" messages, but no one ever pays attention, and so now I am once again deleting and deleting when I should be busy writing.
I don't want to get rid of messenger. I want those personal messages from family and friends. I just don't want the "junk mail".
What can I do? Is there a way to block that stuff? Someone help me out here!
_________________________________________________________________________________
I think I touched on the "#MeToo movement the other day... did I? I meant to. Whether I did or not, I'm going to talk a little about it today.
I often begin my day looking over news stories, as I'm sure many of you do as well. And these sexual misconduct accusations seem to be flying in faster and faster as each day passes.
Along with accusations and allegations, I'm seeing a lot of posts from men and also from women claiming disbelief. The victims are lying because they waited for decades to come forward. The victims are lying because real victims don't want to be identified in public.
I've also seen a few "she had it coming" posts and even a couple of "he should have finished the job" posts that I find reprehensible. Where does that kind of hate come from?!
I don't care much for this subject, but I could probably write a book and name names myself, and truthfully, most every other woman I know could do the same.
I mean, let's be honest here. It starts early and goes on forever. The first time I was sexually harassed, I was in second grade. Yes, for crying out loud, I was probably eight years old!
A neighborhood boy, a classmate, was always grabbing and trying to steal a kiss. He finally coerced me into giving that kiss by stealing my little brother's favorite Tonka truck and holding it hostage. I love my brother, okay? So I gave Bobby the damned kiss. Ugh! Repulsive! I took the truck home to my brother, and then I washed my face and brushed my teeth and sulked.
The next day, I punched the kid in the face. At school. Mrs. Fox made me stand in the corner and told me she was disappointed in me.
I'll say this for Mrs. Fox, though. The next year I told her why I punched Bobby, and she apologized for punishing me. She said I should have told her why right then, and she could have taken some sort of action. It was too late now, though-- he and his family had moved away.
My introduction to the idea of statutes of limitation.
She was right, or course; you should always tell. Tell an adult. Tell someone you trust.
But you know what? You don't.
Why?
Because even at the age of eight, there was this nagging thought in the back of my mind: What did I do or say to make him think he could get away with that?
And doggone it, down through the years I had many an occasion to have those thoughts again.
Many an occasion.
Many.
The arrival of the girls heralded in an era of behaviors by boys that I came to dismiss as just par for the course. A "boys will be boys" sort of thing.
Pokes and pinches. Questions like "When it rains, do your feet get wet?" Invitations to play tag or touch football that leads to being held too long, "accidental" chest gropes, etc.
You get the picture.
And that was sixth grade.
Whee!
So, did I run to the nearest adult and tattle? Nope. I learned how to use my elbows to good advantage and stamped on a foot or two, but mostly I just squirmed away and chalked it up to "stupid boys".
Some of those "stupid boys" could be reading this right now. Um, guys? You sucked. Big time. And the saddest part of it all is that because of the times and because it was "boys being boys" or whatever, you were too stupid to know you were stupid. You made me and a lot of other girls feel bad about our own bodies. Like we could do anything but grow up. Sheesh.
See, as I matured, I got comfortable with the girls. They fed my babies. I really pretty attached to them now; I hope to always keep them.
But at age 12? Age 15? Even 18? Not so much. They were at times a source of embarrassment, even shame. Certainly they gained me some unwanted attention.
Being a girl gained me unwanted attention, okay? From boys. From men.
Now, I was blessed with an intelligent and progressive-for-her-time mother and an even-more-progressive-for-her-time grandmother, so I was educated in the ways of "stupid boys" fairly early on, or things could have fared much more poorly for me than they did. I was smart enough and precocious enough to get myself out of situations that might have ended up so much worse than they did.
Even so, I was not a tattle tale. I let that nagging voice ask me over and over, what did I say or do? Why did this happen? What am I doing wrong?
And at the same time all this was going on, I knew damned well that I was not the pretty girl or the popular girl or the sexy girl, so...what the hell? Why the attention? What?
I didn't date a lot. The guys I crushed on didn't even know I was alive.
I didn't have a clue how to get the attention from the ones I liked and how to deflect the attention of the ones I wanted to leave me alone.
I was awash in self-doubt all the time.
I could go on, but I'm still not willing to be a public tattle tale. To this day, if I feel that some guy might be a problem in real life, I tell the people who I think need to be careful of being with them, but I've never taken it further than that.
Why? Well, like many women before me, I feared not being believed. You hear the horror stories--they're not new. "She was asking for it." "She's a tease." "She wanted it." Yada yada yada.
There were times when I knew it wasn't just me, and warnings were issued. Some girls ignored me, for whatever reason, and later returned with their own tales of woe. We commiserated. We said, "Stupid boys. Stupid men."
I will say this much: It is really no fun walking home from south hill in the middle of the night because you've been pushed out of the car for refusing to "put out". This happened before the days of cell phones. It was cold. It was really dark. It was scary.
But I was more scared of him coming back, still angry.
Not a fun night. Everytime I saw headlights, I hid. Yeah, it would have been nice to get a ride, but...just in case.
That was over forty years ago. Stupid guy.
(For the record, I told whoever I felt might need to know, if I knew they might end up alone on that same road. So there, stupid guy. But I didn't tell an adult, and I didn't call the cops. I just walked home, took a hot bath and went to bed and sulked.)
All that said, those were decisions I made at the time. If I found out now that that particular person was still in the area and that he might be continuing his nefarious ways, I could be prompted to change my mind. If he was now in the Senate, or the President, or a famous actor or director and I knew that he was still behaving like a notorious ass-hat, I would be motivated to speak up.
I lost track of him, though. Period.
That doesn't mean that I haven't regretted my law-related silence on the matter. I've regretted it plenty. I mean, there was yelling. There was shoving. There was desertion. I felt stupid and humiliated and pissed off. I got the buttons popped off my blouse, and when I landed on the ground, I got my clothes dirty. Other than that, I escaped relatively unscathed.
But what if he got more agressive with the passage of time? What if he started hitting? What if he ended up raping someone?
So I warned some girls when I found out they were planning to go out with him. Big la-dee-dah deal.
Because I was a chicken-shit, I didn't report him to anyone with authority.
Yeah, I've regretted it a lot. But it I'm honest, I don't think anyone would have done a thing. As far as it went, he didn't actually do much. At least as far as the law in that town at that time would have been concerned. And in the meantime, I probably would have gotten dragged through the mud, blamed for the assault, told to suck it up and deal, because "boys will be boys".
Damn it.
It plagues me. It has left me with a guilty feeling of having let some unknown someone down.
And that leads me to the women who have spoken out in recent weeks.
I believe them.
Here's the thing: They know where their offender is. They know where he's working, and whether or not he has continued to be a problem.
They have had time to wrestle with occurances. They may now have daughters of their own. The perspective of a mother vs the perspective of a young woman can be profoundly different. Things they justified in their own minds may no longer work when they ask themselves, "But what if this happened to my child?"
Those are good reasons to stop holding their tongues and speak out.
I think the reason so many people are willing to call these women liars is because they think the victims are seeking publicity. I'll go out on a limb and say that publicity is likely the very last thing they want. If attention to themselves was all they were after, they would have reported it when it happened. Believe me, that attention is never positive. Who in their right mind would want to be placed under a microscope and examined for every flaw, be it mode of dress, make-up choices, drinking or drug habits, sexual histories or what church they may or may not attend?
(For the record: No, I had not been drinking. No make-up. Grey flannel pants and a white blouse with a blue cardigan that was NOT heavy enough for the weather--if you're walking. Clogs. Also not great for walking. Catholic. Zero sexual history.)
(But who would have believed me?)
Also, who wants to go up against someone who already has the "power" position? Some of these allegations were teenaged girls abused by a thirty-something businessman. He's got money. He knows people. He is likely a master manipulator. He knows just what to say to assure a girl that he'll be believed and she won't.
Fear and intimidation are powerful things.
These women are not lying. They have no reason to. They are already being dragged through the mud, being put under that microscope. They have nothing to gain but their own peace of mind for finally stepping out and standing up. In the process they will lose their privacy and possibly their dignity. Because they are not the ones in positions of power.
I believe them. I believe they no longer want to feel guilty about possibly letting some unknown someone down.
Now, on the other side of this spectrum, you have allegations of harassment by men making off-colored jokes and maybe patting a backside or two, and I'm not sure how I feel about men losing jobs over things like that. These are guys who grew up in the "boys will be boys" era, and while these things are offensive, I've been assaulted by this behavior my whole life and never felt guilty about not reporting it.
I find a good many of today's so-called comedies more offensive, frankly.
So where do we draw the line? What is a punishable offense? I mean, sexual innuendo that's clearly targeting you vs a traveling salesman joke? People are all very different from one another, and what cracks one person up might send another to sob in the restroom.
Ah, the world is a crazy, messed up place, folks.
For me, the line is here: if a person tells you they don't want to be touched, then keep your hands to yourself. It doesn't matter if all you wanted was a hug. The other person didn't want it, so respect their bounderies. I don't care if said person is two, or twelve or twenty or ninety. I don't care if they are male or female. Hands off if you're not invited to touch. Period.
And you know what? This includes your children. If they don't want a kiss good-night, let it go. They'll probably want one tomorrow. If they don't want to be tickled right now, wait for a better time. Sure, they're laughing--until they cry. That's not fun. I've found that kids are very good at letting you know when they are in the mood for tickling, for a hug, for a good-night kiss. Forcing it on them when they're not in the mood for it sends a message to them that what they want isn't important, and that they have no control over what happens to their own bodies.
(For the record: I ALWAYS hated being tickled. No time was the right time. And I always ended up crying. It was not fun.)
I always ask my grandchildren for a hug or kiss. If they say no, I don't freak out about it. In the end, they come to me and I get plenty. But it's up to them to say yes or no. I ask before tickling. If they want to play, we do, and when they say stop, I stop. Because it can go from fun to torture really dang quick.
I guess, bottom line for me is, I don't think you should get fired if you tell me a dirty joke. But if you push me into a corner and try to shove your tongue down my throat or your hand up my skirt, you should be packing up your desk.
"Boys will be boys" my Aunt Fanny.
To end this, I want to very clearly state that although I had some ugly encounters with "stupid boys", I had FAR more positive encounters with some really great boys and men all my life. These were the ones who helped pick up the books the bully just swatted out of your arms, the ones who walked you home when it was getting dark, the ones who spent that extra minute or ten listening to you chat when they really wanted to play kickball.
My overall experience of men has been great. One bad apple--or a few bad apples-- never spoiled the whole batch, not for me, at least.
And I'm really, really glad that I know so many good apples.
#MeToo.
December 15, 2017
11:46 p.m.
Well, it's official: half the people in this house are seriously off schedule.
My daughter took a night position at a local WalMart store. She's been working there for awhile now.
(You may recall my panic upon learning that there had been an active shooting incident there while I was still in Wyoming. I was seriously grateful she wasn't shopping or something at the time, and was not scheduled to work for several more hours when the shooting took place, so she was home and safe. The world has become a terribly frightening place!)
Anyway, since I've been home, we have been trying to make sure, somehow, that my daughter gets some sleep. At the same time, her toddler has been stubbornly launched a campaign to make sure she gets to spend time with her mom, awake or asleep.
This has resulted in her crawling in to sleep with her mother for late-in-the-day naps, which has led to her staying up later and later at night--not a huge issue for me, since I'm up anyway, but now she's sleeping later and later, I'm getting to sleep well after my daughter gets home from work--after seven a.m. on her work days--and then I might sleep three to four hours while she tries to stay awake and engage with the toddler until at least noon before she goes to sleep and I take over chasing and engaging.
We're tired.
Well, not the toddler--she's all good, except for trying not to be noisy at midnight when the other adults and her brother are sleeping.
So my plan for tonight is to try to get her to sleep before three in the morning. It's midnight, she's playing and watching "My Little Ponies" and trying to be quiet, and I'm writing. I suppose what I should be doing is turning off all the lights and making her lie down. Except I am busy, because this is my time of day to be writing and such.
________________________________________________________________________________
December 16, 2017
1:57 a.m.
Well, that only took two hours.
Gosh, it's fun explaining why we don't go to the beach or eat ice cream cones at one in the morning.
I'm not about to complain, though. This is the earliest she's gone to sleep all week.
Crap. Spoke too soon.
_________________________________________________________________________________
3:47 a.m.
And here we are. I decided to stay nearby for awhile this time. Sheesh!
It has been at this point where I have just decided to wait for the girl to get home before going to bed, because, why not? The house is quiet. I might get some work done.
But I'm not as good at the four-hours-of-sleep shifts as I used to be. I must be getting old. So I'm going to sneak off to bed now and hope she stays asleep.
Wish me luck!
Good Night!
11:46 p.m.
Well, it's official: half the people in this house are seriously off schedule.
My daughter took a night position at a local WalMart store. She's been working there for awhile now.
(You may recall my panic upon learning that there had been an active shooting incident there while I was still in Wyoming. I was seriously grateful she wasn't shopping or something at the time, and was not scheduled to work for several more hours when the shooting took place, so she was home and safe. The world has become a terribly frightening place!)
Anyway, since I've been home, we have been trying to make sure, somehow, that my daughter gets some sleep. At the same time, her toddler has been stubbornly launched a campaign to make sure she gets to spend time with her mom, awake or asleep.
This has resulted in her crawling in to sleep with her mother for late-in-the-day naps, which has led to her staying up later and later at night--not a huge issue for me, since I'm up anyway, but now she's sleeping later and later, I'm getting to sleep well after my daughter gets home from work--after seven a.m. on her work days--and then I might sleep three to four hours while she tries to stay awake and engage with the toddler until at least noon before she goes to sleep and I take over chasing and engaging.
We're tired.
Well, not the toddler--she's all good, except for trying not to be noisy at midnight when the other adults and her brother are sleeping.
So my plan for tonight is to try to get her to sleep before three in the morning. It's midnight, she's playing and watching "My Little Ponies" and trying to be quiet, and I'm writing. I suppose what I should be doing is turning off all the lights and making her lie down. Except I am busy, because this is my time of day to be writing and such.
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December 16, 2017
1:57 a.m.
Well, that only took two hours.
Gosh, it's fun explaining why we don't go to the beach or eat ice cream cones at one in the morning.
I'm not about to complain, though. This is the earliest she's gone to sleep all week.
Crap. Spoke too soon.
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3:47 a.m.
And here we are. I decided to stay nearby for awhile this time. Sheesh!
It has been at this point where I have just decided to wait for the girl to get home before going to bed, because, why not? The house is quiet. I might get some work done.
But I'm not as good at the four-hours-of-sleep shifts as I used to be. I must be getting old. So I'm going to sneak off to bed now and hope she stays asleep.
Wish me luck!
Good Night!
Sunday, December 10, 2017
December 10, 2017
3:35 p.m.
I have no idea what I am doing today.
I have been trying to watch a new series on Netflix, one made in Germany and overdubbed in English, called "Dark". It is quite compelling, but I keep getting interrupted and now I'm confused. Normally I would wait until everyone else is asleep, but with my daughter's night work schedule, no one is asleep at the same time in this house anymore.
Oh, well, if at first you don't succeed, try, try again. I'll figure it out.
I'm also working my way through Hulu's "Marvel's Runaways". This series I started because I am a big fan of James Marsters.
3:35 p.m.
I have no idea what I am doing today.
I have been trying to watch a new series on Netflix, one made in Germany and overdubbed in English, called "Dark". It is quite compelling, but I keep getting interrupted and now I'm confused. Normally I would wait until everyone else is asleep, but with my daughter's night work schedule, no one is asleep at the same time in this house anymore.
Oh, well, if at first you don't succeed, try, try again. I'll figure it out.
I'm also working my way through Hulu's "Marvel's Runaways". This series I started because I am a big fan of James Marsters.
As such, I give the things he's doing a try. I'm sticking with this one, because it's a really good series. It focuses more on the teen cast, who have discovered that their parents are not the people they'd believed them to be. I'm having fun with it.
In recent years I've gotten a lot of amusement over the fact that when I was growing up, nerdiness was a bad thing, and admitting to being a comic book fan-- other than Mad Magazine-- was likely to get you laughed out of the room. Now being a nerd is cool, and some of the best movies and series out there are based on comics. Ah, the irony.
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5:09 p.m.
Distracted again. My granddaughter asked me to help her find her "bute" (boot).
Toddlers. Man, I love them, even if they sometimes exhaust me. Up until recently, I was "gampa" to her, and now she's moved on to "gama". I don't know why, but I sure miss being "gampa". All the cute things they say--it's a little heartbreaking when they figure it out.
My niece, as a toddler, said "sninky" instead of "stinky". My parents still say "sninky". Some of those mispronunciations just stick in families. We still have "spusghetti" to eat at my house, thanks to one of my kids.
What words have stuck in your family vocabularies thanks to your kids or grandkids?
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I am so not ready for Christmas. I have to go over a particular order I placed recently, because I got a delivery yesterday for something I swear I didn't order. Weird.
I'm also out of touch a bit this year. It was a freaky busy year. I'm not sure what any of the kids are reading this year, so I haven't gotten their books. I've gotten other things... but this feels strange, so I better get cracking.
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I'm a little upset with myself over Thanksgiving. I made a good dinner and we had a good time, but I didn't take any pictures! That's pretty unlike me. I wasn't feeling well, so I basically made of myself an observer once dinner was done. (I did enjoy leftovers the next day, however!)
My son in law took this and shared it with me:
There may be others, but no one has shared them with me. Hint, hint!
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6:05 p.m.
Okay, I'm going to say you should probably watch "Dark" on Netflix. Bizarre. I'm weirded out. I will never be able to talk my son into watching this.
Weird.
Can't stop watching.
This is one of those shows that require a 2nd go round once you're done. Or at least, once I am done.
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Okay, I'm hungry. It just struck me out of the blue. So I'm out for now!
What to eat? What to eat? It's a conundrum.
Cheers!
Monday, December 4, 2017
December 4, 2017
9:16 p.m.
Well, doggone it, I promised I wasn't going to get into any more political debates, but I just have to ask this question: Is it just me, or does anyone else have a hard time taking an argument seriously when the person arguing cannot be bothered to check his spelling, punctuation and grammar? I mean, how smart can they be, and why should I think they know what they're talking about?
Yes, yes, I'm a bit of a snob. Oh, well! I cannot believe in the rantings of a person who writes "are children" instead of "our children". If you don't know the difference between to, two and too, there, their and they're, here and hear, lo and low, etc., I have no trust in your ability to differentiate between truth and "fake news".
By the way, I do indeed know the difference between a personal tax, a small business tax and a corporate tax. I can add, subtract, multiply and divide. I'm also quite adept at reading more than one report--and not a meme--about various topics before deciding which ideas are more suited to my needs and those of my children. I can certainly recognize when the futures of my grandchildren are imperiled by greedy, self-serving ass-hats.
The current majority administration has, at this point, no redeeming qualities. Even if Trump and Pence should be impeached, the next-in-line party members are every bit as corrupt. We are doomed to fall face first into a sewer of their creation, and I can't envision a workable escape route.
It's depressing, distressing and demeaning.
This past week has been a nightmare. Tax bill passed without being read--or even legibly written; Trump in Utah reducing the areas of Native monuments; plea-bargains; and nonsensical tweets by someone who should REALLY keep his thoughts to himself. It's insane.
If the USA is now an international laughing stock--and it is--shouldn't we be doing something sensible to get back on track? Like NOT endorsing accused child-molesters for public office? Like making sure that public education is completely funded, and offering teachers more incentives to continue educating our children? You know, useful things.
Billionaires and corporations have more than enough money and tax breaks already. Trickle down economics do not work.
I'm so tired of these guys. Why can we not just fire everyone and start from scratch?
How sad that we came to a point where everyone figured they had to choose whoever they felt was the "lesser of two evils".
Damn.
Okay, rant over.
_________________________________________________________________________________
I'd like to follow up with something jolly and clever, but it doesn't seem fitting after that.
I would post a puppy picture, but then no one would take me seriously, even if I spelled everything correctly.
I'm just going to say goodnight.
Goodnight.
9:16 p.m.
Well, doggone it, I promised I wasn't going to get into any more political debates, but I just have to ask this question: Is it just me, or does anyone else have a hard time taking an argument seriously when the person arguing cannot be bothered to check his spelling, punctuation and grammar? I mean, how smart can they be, and why should I think they know what they're talking about?
Yes, yes, I'm a bit of a snob. Oh, well! I cannot believe in the rantings of a person who writes "are children" instead of "our children". If you don't know the difference between to, two and too, there, their and they're, here and hear, lo and low, etc., I have no trust in your ability to differentiate between truth and "fake news".
By the way, I do indeed know the difference between a personal tax, a small business tax and a corporate tax. I can add, subtract, multiply and divide. I'm also quite adept at reading more than one report--and not a meme--about various topics before deciding which ideas are more suited to my needs and those of my children. I can certainly recognize when the futures of my grandchildren are imperiled by greedy, self-serving ass-hats.
The current majority administration has, at this point, no redeeming qualities. Even if Trump and Pence should be impeached, the next-in-line party members are every bit as corrupt. We are doomed to fall face first into a sewer of their creation, and I can't envision a workable escape route.
It's depressing, distressing and demeaning.
This past week has been a nightmare. Tax bill passed without being read--or even legibly written; Trump in Utah reducing the areas of Native monuments; plea-bargains; and nonsensical tweets by someone who should REALLY keep his thoughts to himself. It's insane.
If the USA is now an international laughing stock--and it is--shouldn't we be doing something sensible to get back on track? Like NOT endorsing accused child-molesters for public office? Like making sure that public education is completely funded, and offering teachers more incentives to continue educating our children? You know, useful things.
Billionaires and corporations have more than enough money and tax breaks already. Trickle down economics do not work.
I'm so tired of these guys. Why can we not just fire everyone and start from scratch?
How sad that we came to a point where everyone figured they had to choose whoever they felt was the "lesser of two evils".
Damn.
Okay, rant over.
_________________________________________________________________________________
I'd like to follow up with something jolly and clever, but it doesn't seem fitting after that.
I would post a puppy picture, but then no one would take me seriously, even if I spelled everything correctly.
I'm just going to say goodnight.
Goodnight.
Sunday, December 3, 2017
December 2, 2017
11:46 p.m.
Well, this is more like my usual posting time, isn't it?
My granddaughter and I are up and watching Guardians of the Galaxy 2. Okay, neither of us are paying much attention, but it's on.
Don't get me wrong; I love this movie. But watching a nearly-three-year-old enacting a conversation between a duck and a frog is really entertaining.
Babysitting tonight. The parents have gone to a work Christmas party. Fun stuff.
Oh, whoops! The television just shut itself off. Uh...darn! Oh well, here comes a toddler to sit in my lap and make me draw puppies.
Life is rough, boy.
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December 3, 2017
12:31 a.m.
Okay, it's a new day, the kids are all wound up because they get to see their mom, who sleeps days and works nights, and I am getting pretty excited because I get to sleep without a bed full of baby and dog tonight!
Or, at least, I get to TRY to sleep.
But the whole bed is MINE! Whee!
_________________________________________________________________________________
The holiday movie season is here. Watching "Home Alone". Go, Kevin. Get those bad guys.
So far, I have not watched "A Christmas Story". I love that movie. My whole family groans when I put it on. But my son bought it for me last year, so I guess he doesn't hate it that much. I couldn't explain the appeal that movie has for me, but I love it.
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I think I'm headed to Target later to take advantage of a one-day sale. If I do, I may be done shopping! Hurray!
I know I admitted to putting up a tree this year, and that's big. But I'm not fussed about Christmas shopping. The little girls were easy, but I don't see the little boys often enough to know what they're into these days, so all I can do is hope. The pre-teen boys didn't pose too much of a challenge--they spend a lot of time here, so I observe. I think I managed their stuff okay. But now--the teen girls! Yikes!!!! So...gift cards? Ugh, I hate resorting to that...
However, I do love receiving gift cards...
Hmm....
_________________________________________________________________________________
My living room has turned into a place of chaos. Too many people yacking, I can't think. So I guess I will say goodnight and go yack, too.
Goodnight!
11:46 p.m.
Well, this is more like my usual posting time, isn't it?
My granddaughter and I are up and watching Guardians of the Galaxy 2. Okay, neither of us are paying much attention, but it's on.
Don't get me wrong; I love this movie. But watching a nearly-three-year-old enacting a conversation between a duck and a frog is really entertaining.
Babysitting tonight. The parents have gone to a work Christmas party. Fun stuff.
Oh, whoops! The television just shut itself off. Uh...darn! Oh well, here comes a toddler to sit in my lap and make me draw puppies.
Life is rough, boy.
_________________________________________________________________________________
December 3, 2017
12:31 a.m.
Okay, it's a new day, the kids are all wound up because they get to see their mom, who sleeps days and works nights, and I am getting pretty excited because I get to sleep without a bed full of baby and dog tonight!
Or, at least, I get to TRY to sleep.
But the whole bed is MINE! Whee!
_________________________________________________________________________________
The holiday movie season is here. Watching "Home Alone". Go, Kevin. Get those bad guys.
So far, I have not watched "A Christmas Story". I love that movie. My whole family groans when I put it on. But my son bought it for me last year, so I guess he doesn't hate it that much. I couldn't explain the appeal that movie has for me, but I love it.
_________________________________________________________________________________
I think I'm headed to Target later to take advantage of a one-day sale. If I do, I may be done shopping! Hurray!
I know I admitted to putting up a tree this year, and that's big. But I'm not fussed about Christmas shopping. The little girls were easy, but I don't see the little boys often enough to know what they're into these days, so all I can do is hope. The pre-teen boys didn't pose too much of a challenge--they spend a lot of time here, so I observe. I think I managed their stuff okay. But now--the teen girls! Yikes!!!! So...gift cards? Ugh, I hate resorting to that...
However, I do love receiving gift cards...
Hmm....
_________________________________________________________________________________
My living room has turned into a place of chaos. Too many people yacking, I can't think. So I guess I will say goodnight and go yack, too.
Goodnight!
Saturday, December 2, 2017
Happy December!
December 1, 2017
6:08 p.m.
I demand to know where the time goes!
2017 seems to have passed by ridiculously fast. What happened?
I have been back in Colorado for a few weeks now, and winter hasn't yet reared its ugly head. I'm not complaining. I'm not ready for it.
I'm also not ready for Christmas, and I think I will complain about that. It feels like I just did it. I'm not as good at early shopping as I used to be--you know, back in the day when my kids were little and I had a job.
Of course, not having a job is no excuse, really, because that basically means I have more time than ever to get it done, whether that means shopping or making gifts.
What is wrong with me?
You can cut me a little slack, though. I actually put up a tree for the first time in over a decade. Grandchildren are living here now, so kids in the house made me up my game a bit.
I didn't up it much, though. It's about three feet tall. Ha ha.
_________________________________________________________________________________
My last post was Thanksgiving Day, in the morning. By evening I was getting sick. Went to bed early. Didn't take a single picture all day. Didn't want to eat. What a dang bummer, man.
Next day, I was hungry and enjoyed leftovers. I don't know what the heck that was, not wanting to eat the delicious dinner I prepared. Probably a pre-curser to the lovely cold I've been living with pretty much ever since. Hack, cough and sniffle. So fun. But it hasn't affected my appetite too much since the first day. Hmm...
_________________________________________________________________________________
Even though I've been home for awhile, I just barely hooked my computer back up and quit using my laptop for everything. So now I can't type. Ha ha! I had forgotten that a couple of the keys on my keyboard are tight, and I don't hit them hard enough. Makes for some interesting typos.
More annoying, though, is the fact that I haven't yet downloaded all the photos I took while I was gone this past summer, and I keep looking for them today so I can share or use them. Since I am about to undertake the task of making calendars, I guess I'd better get to work on that.
Speaking of photos--good grief, do I ever need to delete some from my phone. It's a wonder I can do anything at all on it. And I've only had it for 6 months! What a hoarder I am.
_________________________________________________________________________________
11:02 p.m.
Oh boy, I got this little message on my Ancestry site and just couldn't stop myself from researching! You know, this stuff is what got me started on my book. Family histories are fascinating. My father's various lines go back quite a bit further than the Pilgrims. I would love to do the DNA testing and see what turns up. However, I haven't seen any indication that once those tests identify Native American bloodlines, they can further identify various tribes. And based on my research, there are probably more than a couple of tribes, anyway.
We are what my Dad calls "Heinz-57s". Hahaha.
At any rate, I was given the link to a manuscript of a many-times-removed uncle who was an accidental explorer in the new world, and ended up reading quite a bit, and forgot I was writing a blog!
My bad!
In my defense--it's really interesting.
_________________________________________________________________________________
December 2, 2017
12:01 a.m.
I really, really tried not to comment on politics, but-- DAMN! That so-called tax bill just passed?!
What has happened to this country?
Nope. I'm done. Not saying anything more tonight about it.
Tonight.
Damn.
_________________________________________________________________________________
I was better off reading. Think I'll lay in bed with a good graphic novel and try not to think too much.
Good night, all!
6:08 p.m.
I demand to know where the time goes!
2017 seems to have passed by ridiculously fast. What happened?
I have been back in Colorado for a few weeks now, and winter hasn't yet reared its ugly head. I'm not complaining. I'm not ready for it.
I'm also not ready for Christmas, and I think I will complain about that. It feels like I just did it. I'm not as good at early shopping as I used to be--you know, back in the day when my kids were little and I had a job.
Of course, not having a job is no excuse, really, because that basically means I have more time than ever to get it done, whether that means shopping or making gifts.
What is wrong with me?
You can cut me a little slack, though. I actually put up a tree for the first time in over a decade. Grandchildren are living here now, so kids in the house made me up my game a bit.
I didn't up it much, though. It's about three feet tall. Ha ha.
_________________________________________________________________________________
My last post was Thanksgiving Day, in the morning. By evening I was getting sick. Went to bed early. Didn't take a single picture all day. Didn't want to eat. What a dang bummer, man.
Next day, I was hungry and enjoyed leftovers. I don't know what the heck that was, not wanting to eat the delicious dinner I prepared. Probably a pre-curser to the lovely cold I've been living with pretty much ever since. Hack, cough and sniffle. So fun. But it hasn't affected my appetite too much since the first day. Hmm...
_________________________________________________________________________________
Even though I've been home for awhile, I just barely hooked my computer back up and quit using my laptop for everything. So now I can't type. Ha ha! I had forgotten that a couple of the keys on my keyboard are tight, and I don't hit them hard enough. Makes for some interesting typos.
More annoying, though, is the fact that I haven't yet downloaded all the photos I took while I was gone this past summer, and I keep looking for them today so I can share or use them. Since I am about to undertake the task of making calendars, I guess I'd better get to work on that.
Speaking of photos--good grief, do I ever need to delete some from my phone. It's a wonder I can do anything at all on it. And I've only had it for 6 months! What a hoarder I am.
_________________________________________________________________________________
11:02 p.m.
Oh boy, I got this little message on my Ancestry site and just couldn't stop myself from researching! You know, this stuff is what got me started on my book. Family histories are fascinating. My father's various lines go back quite a bit further than the Pilgrims. I would love to do the DNA testing and see what turns up. However, I haven't seen any indication that once those tests identify Native American bloodlines, they can further identify various tribes. And based on my research, there are probably more than a couple of tribes, anyway.
We are what my Dad calls "Heinz-57s". Hahaha.
At any rate, I was given the link to a manuscript of a many-times-removed uncle who was an accidental explorer in the new world, and ended up reading quite a bit, and forgot I was writing a blog!
My bad!
In my defense--it's really interesting.
_________________________________________________________________________________
December 2, 2017
12:01 a.m.
I really, really tried not to comment on politics, but-- DAMN! That so-called tax bill just passed?!
What has happened to this country?
Nope. I'm done. Not saying anything more tonight about it.
Tonight.
Damn.
_________________________________________________________________________________
I was better off reading. Think I'll lay in bed with a good graphic novel and try not to think too much.
Good night, all!
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