Here is the game plan - all day I am going to add to this blug (blog, bloggy, bluggy,et al) as the mood hits. There will be no main theme song; just a ramble as this long day continues. I will number each new thought. Why? Cause I like to number things and it is my blug. If you would like to write a guest blog on my place, send it to me. I could send you my email so you can send it to the house. I wouldn't do that for everyone. But, you are special.
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1. Just used my ice tea maker and made a rather large cup of hot tea. Tea really needs to be sweetened in my opinion. Since this diabetes thing has crept upon me, sugar is out - so we use sweetener. I am using the yellow pkgs now in my life. I heard the yellow sweetener might send you running for the bathroom - make that "running for the reading room." I do some of my best reading in there. My tea is not nearly as sweet as I wish for. From the musical Bye Bye Birdie, "Suf-fa" I do suffer. Poor me.
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2. I had a conversation with a young band director this week. He is not really young, YOUNG. But to me, everyone is getting younger daily. It all started by me being a bit of a smart aleck - yes, believe it or nay - I made a smart remark. I even called him a young pup band director (I thought that was cute & he showed no resentment). I advised him to start saving his money because Texas Teacher's Retirement System does not give you enough. They have piles of cash in reserve, and they pay their top dogs enormous salaries; but, we retired teachers don't get a bunch.
.
It is my own fault. I could have gone looking for better paying gigs instead of staying where I thought I could do some good. And I liked my students, usually. The retirement system pays "X" dollars based upon a formula. The amount is "X" now and it has been "X" since I retired 10 years ago. It will be "X" in another 10 years. Nothing is based upon inflation. You get what you get no matter how many years you have been retired. My fault. I could have been a brain surgeon...no I couldn't.
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Even Social Security has payments that increase with inflation. I worked 10 years in Okla. and earned my 40 quarters. I get a bit of a S.S.# check monthly. It is better than a kick in the head. $7. $7. It increased this year by $7 That is 7 big gulps or a couple jars of mustard. Again, it beats a kick in the head. Don't expect teacher's retirement to pay for a new car yearly or a cruise to the Bahamas. You'd better save extra.
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3. As I type it is about 5:10. We dogs have all been outside barking at birds and squirrels. Greta barks only at birds in the sky. Can't say what her hangup is with birds floating way up there. She barks. The other three have no preference. If Greta barks, they will too. No prejudices here.
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I threw the ball for Oscar as Bruno explored the same backyard that was explored this morning. Nothing new was found. Liesl likes to look under the bird feeders for spent food. So little nutrition there for a dog; she cares not. The bird feeders were empty. I made the trek to the garage and brought out bird food and sunflower seeds. I think squirrels would kill for sunflower seeds. We dogs reloaded all the feeders and included a few whol peanuts for the SQ. It is apparently appreciated.
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After much ball playing - barking at the squirrel who found the new food to his liking, we returned to the house.
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4. Now I practiced my horn. The Corsicana Swing Orchestra is playing next Saturday for some type of a benefit for the local Palace Theatre - if I misunderstood it right. Where else could you hire a big jazz swing band to play a benefit in someone's back yard? We are hoping they bring in some heaters to keep the mouthpieces warm. Cold weather has not left us lately
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In a previous post I wrote something about us using high school kids in the band. I may have stated that too harshly. These boys have talent. A smart college band program should come looking for them. I think all three would / could become excellent band directors if that is what the mean spirit gods have in mind. For youngsters from a small H.S., I admire their talent. More than once I would have loved to have them sit in my bands - even some of the big school groups I fronted.
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5. And now it is past time to feed the kids. Normally they eat at 5 - 'Tis 5:20 now. Bruno is hungry...I mean really hungry - no, I mean R E A L L Y H U N G R Y !!!
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6. Tonight, Greta almost ate her whole dish of food. That is remarkable considering she ate all of her breakfast. Most of you don't know what this means. Greta normally eats every other day if she thinks about it. You'd think she would lose weight.
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7. After sup, the wife and I sat and watch a netflix - Miss Fisher's Mysteries. We are on Season 2, episode 12. Fisher is almost fun because the music is fun - early 30s in Australia. The other Netflix we are working through is Midsomer Murders. We're in season 11 of that series. I really enjoy the music of this show. Good, really good woodwind players. It is worth watching the series to hear the music. Sometimes they will utilize a local brass band or community band / orchestra. It is enjoyable to a poor defenseless retired band director.
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That is enough for today. As I tried to say when I began, this episode was not meant to be a great learning experience. It does demonstrate my exciting life. Now as I close, Bruno is in the distance telling me it is time to outside and = well, you know what dogs do outside.
me
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Saturday, February 28, 2015
Wednesday, February 25, 2015
cars
Guys mostly, but some Gals I'd suppose - we guys are infected with the new car desease, bigger-better-faster. I couldn't think of another word for "faster" that started with "B." Bonkers might work. Nevermind. We want all the new and better devices. I'm not talking about James Bond's mother-in-law ejection seat. Gimmics - Bells & Whistles. Fun stuff.
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I have a nice car, a Ford Flex. It is the ultimate station wagon - holds 7 in comfort - easy in and out - Sirius - heated seats - and so forth. We can tow the Flex behind the motorhome and still carry all grandgirls if necessary. I see a trip to the beach with the GGirls in the future. Should I hold out for Corpus Christi instead of windy Galveston?
.
But, still, I want more and more in my ride. Mine has some really nice features like the backup camera and the computer screen and the girl-Friday who talks to me when I press a button. Nobody stops me to talk about the red and black, Red Raider Flex.
.
When I got my 2003 Mercury Marauder, a whole new world opened up. Everytime, and I mean every time, I stopped for gas, some guy would want to talk about the Marauder. It roared. It moved out in a major hurry. And, in my opinion which is all that counts on this bluggy, the Marauder was fun to drive and nice to see.
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Age will slow everything. Still guys will want to talk about the Marauder. There are not as many now. In and around Corsicana, the Black teenage boys seem to want to own a Grand Marquis. My Marauder looks like that until you see inside. These locals buy old Marquis and put 24" wheels on them and slick up the paint jobs. The Marauder fits right in. More than one local kid (usually working fast food) has asked me if I would like to sell the car.
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New cars have such good things on them. The Marauder was pretty black and white, so to speak. Now, I like the tail lights on the Mustang - the way they flash indicating the turn direction. That's nice. Didja know that the Mustang's engine is so quiet that a recording of engine noise is transmitted when you accelerate? Thass right. Ford has built in engine noise that plays through the radio when you drive the car. That way you hear those power noises. Who wants to drive a fast car if you cannot hear the engine moan?
.
In my youth one of my uncles had a Citroen (spelling here) which had a leveling device. It would automatically level the car on turns. It was an ugly, funny looking car that was always on the level. When we visit my Uncle Percy who owned a car lot in Okla City, he would take us all out to eat in a Cafeteria. WE would get to ride in a Lincoln convertible - one year a pink Lincoln. We were in Heaven.
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My college days were good. I didn't know it at the time, but they were. We had a 57 and a 56 hot road chevys. Brother Marshall had bought a Ford Convertible. When the wife and I were married, we borrowed that Ford for the Honeymoon. Now this will show you that my brain doesn't always work. Our Honeymoon was to the Grand Canyon in August. Have you ever been in Arizona in August? In a convertible? 130 degrees in the shade- and you know how much shade is in Arizona. Now try that with the top down on a convertible.
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We could have gone to the mountains, but no. Somehow I got waylaid from my car stone. This was to be a rambling. I ramble. I know that I was headed somewhere with all of this. Can't remember now. How about you make a list of gimmics you like and leave in the comment section. I can't be alone in this quest.
.
I have a nice car, a Ford Flex. It is the ultimate station wagon - holds 7 in comfort - easy in and out - Sirius - heated seats - and so forth. We can tow the Flex behind the motorhome and still carry all grandgirls if necessary. I see a trip to the beach with the GGirls in the future. Should I hold out for Corpus Christi instead of windy Galveston?
.
But, still, I want more and more in my ride. Mine has some really nice features like the backup camera and the computer screen and the girl-Friday who talks to me when I press a button. Nobody stops me to talk about the red and black, Red Raider Flex.
.
When I got my 2003 Mercury Marauder, a whole new world opened up. Everytime, and I mean every time, I stopped for gas, some guy would want to talk about the Marauder. It roared. It moved out in a major hurry. And, in my opinion which is all that counts on this bluggy, the Marauder was fun to drive and nice to see.
.
Age will slow everything. Still guys will want to talk about the Marauder. There are not as many now. In and around Corsicana, the Black teenage boys seem to want to own a Grand Marquis. My Marauder looks like that until you see inside. These locals buy old Marquis and put 24" wheels on them and slick up the paint jobs. The Marauder fits right in. More than one local kid (usually working fast food) has asked me if I would like to sell the car.
.
New cars have such good things on them. The Marauder was pretty black and white, so to speak. Now, I like the tail lights on the Mustang - the way they flash indicating the turn direction. That's nice. Didja know that the Mustang's engine is so quiet that a recording of engine noise is transmitted when you accelerate? Thass right. Ford has built in engine noise that plays through the radio when you drive the car. That way you hear those power noises. Who wants to drive a fast car if you cannot hear the engine moan?
.
In my youth one of my uncles had a Citroen (spelling here) which had a leveling device. It would automatically level the car on turns. It was an ugly, funny looking car that was always on the level. When we visit my Uncle Percy who owned a car lot in Okla City, he would take us all out to eat in a Cafeteria. WE would get to ride in a Lincoln convertible - one year a pink Lincoln. We were in Heaven.
.
My college days were good. I didn't know it at the time, but they were. We had a 57 and a 56 hot road chevys. Brother Marshall had bought a Ford Convertible. When the wife and I were married, we borrowed that Ford for the Honeymoon. Now this will show you that my brain doesn't always work. Our Honeymoon was to the Grand Canyon in August. Have you ever been in Arizona in August? In a convertible? 130 degrees in the shade- and you know how much shade is in Arizona. Now try that with the top down on a convertible.
.
We could have gone to the mountains, but no. Somehow I got waylaid from my car stone. This was to be a rambling. I ramble. I know that I was headed somewhere with all of this. Can't remember now. How about you make a list of gimmics you like and leave in the comment section. I can't be alone in this quest.
Tuesday, February 24, 2015
youth
A SHORTY (same as a quickie, but with less drawbacks).
Coming out of the shower this morning (yes we have water in our house), my memory went back to living in Dodge City. I was about 8 or 9 years old. Little brother Pat was just a baby, and he was born in 49. I was born in late 40 - so, about 8 or 9 years old. Here are little quips of memories from them thar days.
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1. In Dodge City, we lived on a fast street. We lived in Dodge twice. This was the 2nd time. I can't remember if there were houses across the street or not. There were trains over there though, not up against the road, but over there. The house was a one story with steps leading up to the big front porch; a sidewalk passed in front of the house next to the street. The yard was big enough that we could play that ball game where you threw the ball over the house, and the kids on the otherside would catch it - then, run around the house to touch you with the ball. Trying to remember the name of the game - not alley oop - oh well - you'd yell a particular something then throw the ball over the house.
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2. Our house was on the alley with two big trees beside the house. We had a hammock hung between the trees. Brother Marshall (prolly 13 yrs old) rolled off the hammock and broke his collarbone. That was a traumatic time. I cannot remember ever getting in the hammock. I probably did. Never have I broken a bone. Of course, that line is tempting the gods. Let's see if I can make it till the next war without a breaking.
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3. Across the alley was a house. Some girl lived there - maybe had brothers - the neighborhood kids would gather in her backyard or ours for frolic. We little kids do strange things and remember strange things as we age. I remember sitting in her backyard on my knees acting mad and pulling grass out. I threw the grass behind me in rage as I glared. They just ignored me. So I rejoined the human race.
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4. Next to the girl's house was a vacant lot covered with tall weeds. On the lot was a big billboard sign, one of those double wide billboards. You could climb all over the back of the sign if you had a want. I rarely wanted. Brother Jim, 16 months older than I and the family daredevil, fell off the Sign and broke his arm. Jim had a propensity to do stupid things as he buffaloed his way through childhood.
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5. A few blocks to the left of the house and on the other side of the street was the Pepsicola bottling plant. I seem to remember walking down to get a cold one. They were in bottles of course, so we had to have a nickel plus a penny for the bottle deposit. I wish I could remember that we got free drinks - but can't. Somehow, it seems to me that we bought Grapette, a fine, fine soft drink.
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6. Pat was just a tiny baby - I may have told this stone before. The baby bottle nipples were made of rubber, a hard rubber. Mom would pour coke into the bottles and give them to Jim and me to drink. We would sit on the front porch sucking and chewing on the rubber nipples. We thought it was great fun to make a big deal of it as people walked past the house. Kids our age drinking from baby bottles. How Wude. When we finished, the nipples were a bit more worn in, and Pat could enjoy his cool milk. We never drank milk from them. Coke was good.
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7. Radio stations use to have giveaways - call in first - call in second - answer a trivial question - same as they do today. Marshall won free games at a bowling alley. We three boys were sent off to the bowling alley. We walked. I am sure that fun was had by all. Can you imagine a 13 year old followed by little brothers 8 & 9 taking off to walk across town today - to go bowling - in a strange bowling alley - with no parental mothering? Hard to fathom.
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8. By this time all 3 boys were playing cornets, piano, and accordion. We had to practice every day - timed practice. And we did. The clock was on the refrigerator. I'd play awhile, then walk in and look at the clock. This would be followed by mom fussing about wasting time. I guess we were pretty cute. Aside: I believe we had a refrig by this time and not just an ice box.
In the summer, Dodge City had a municipal band which gave summer concerts on a band shell in a park. We 3 boys were featured with the band one night. We played Three of a Kind. Another of our songs had some triple tonguing. Marshall was the only one of us with that skill. We two young ones just played the first note of the triplet as Marshall tripled tongued away. I betcha we were really precious on that concert. Marshall was always a better legitimate trumpet player than we younger guys. Parents have a tendency to push the #1 child differently than the younger kids. True today, true in my day.
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9. Bums, Hobos, etc. use to come to our back door for handouts. Mom would provide. I have learned since then that hobos use to mark house who had good handouts. Mom must have been a easy mark in those days. We were never afraid of the hobos who came up to the back door.
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10. This is where we had Wobblepump, our dog. Pop taught ground school during WWII at an airbase in Ok City. The dog was the camp mascot. When the war ended, he took Wobblepump home. The dog met his end playing in the streets of Dodge City as did so many. The dateline on this part of the Stone doesn't jive. It must have happened when we lived there the first time and I was only 5. Memory fades over time.
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11. Boot Hill was down the street a ways. We guys would walk over to boothill and marvel at the tombstones. They dressed up the cemetery with concrete boots sticking out of the ground...a tombstone on one end, boot tips on the other.
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I'll close now. enough remembered.
More tomorrow if I feels it.
m
Sunday, February 22, 2015
winter's blast
It looks like we may get our first true blast of winter t'night & t'morrow. Yes, we have had several days of 32 degree weather these past few months; but, the moisture is hanging-on with this cold snap. North wind, chilling rain, and brrrrrr cold are plopping down on us hard. Already - For sure our dog pack is being affected. Going outside in the wet and cold is not fun for a low slung dachshund. Just ask them. They are such whiners. Trips outside are few and far between ... none greeted with enthusiasm.
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I can remember when I taught in Ardmore, All-District band was always in February. And, you could count on cold weather pouncing on us. More than once the ice and snow interfered with that weekend. But, it does seem that Dallas always had worse weather than we did in southern Oklahoma. The Arbuckle mountains were just north of the city. I theorized - with zero expert training - that cold weather hit the mountains, rising over Ardmore just to fall back down near Dallas. Tulsa, Norman, OK & "The City" had bad weather when we didn't.
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One football season when our team played Norman H.S., I had the P.A. announcer introduce us as: "From the Sunny Side of the Arbuckles, The Pride of Ardmore, That Ardmore Tiger Band." Not one person ever mentioned that bit to me. I was so proud of the line. It wouldn't hurt Ardmore to utilize / incorporate that line now into their promotional materials.
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So we wait for our wintry blast. Our house faces almost straight north. The wind whistles over the top of the lake right onto my back porch. I am wearing more than one shirt right now...layer your clothes Santa Claus. This missive may be called the Back Porch Stone; but, that back porch has no occupants as I type. It shall remain void of humans or doxies. Brrrrrrrrrrrrr
mtz
P.S. There is a reason we didn't move back to Amarillo after retirement. Blow Sandies Blow!!
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I can remember when I taught in Ardmore, All-District band was always in February. And, you could count on cold weather pouncing on us. More than once the ice and snow interfered with that weekend. But, it does seem that Dallas always had worse weather than we did in southern Oklahoma. The Arbuckle mountains were just north of the city. I theorized - with zero expert training - that cold weather hit the mountains, rising over Ardmore just to fall back down near Dallas. Tulsa, Norman, OK & "The City" had bad weather when we didn't.
.
One football season when our team played Norman H.S., I had the P.A. announcer introduce us as: "From the Sunny Side of the Arbuckles, The Pride of Ardmore, That Ardmore Tiger Band." Not one person ever mentioned that bit to me. I was so proud of the line. It wouldn't hurt Ardmore to utilize / incorporate that line now into their promotional materials.
.
So we wait for our wintry blast. Our house faces almost straight north. The wind whistles over the top of the lake right onto my back porch. I am wearing more than one shirt right now...layer your clothes Santa Claus. This missive may be called the Back Porch Stone; but, that back porch has no occupants as I type. It shall remain void of humans or doxies. Brrrrrrrrrrrrr
mtz
P.S. There is a reason we didn't move back to Amarillo after retirement. Blow Sandies Blow!!
Saturday, February 21, 2015
more pot pouring
We all have stuff in our lives.
Some have more stuff than others.
Then, there are the hoarders. I distinguish hoarders and myself by the product hoarded. Example: if someone won't throw away old newspapers = hoarder. If someone won't throw away old National Geographics = not hoarder (me). If someone has 5 dogs, not hoarder. If someone has 104 cats living in the house with no sandbox = hoarder (also, crazy). Maybe Hoarder does equal crazy.
.
I have lots of stuff which has no real value to anyone except me. I'm sure there are people out there who would like to have my stuff or at the very least, some of it. It is a running bit around here that I am going to open a museum which houses only my stuff that nobody else wants. The museum would be located in an old building somewhere in the nice part of town. . . maybe I'd put bars on the windows to create the illusion of quality stuff stored inside.
.
We'll be driving down the street and see a building sitting vacant that nobody else wants to rent or buy - it will be named as a potential museum site. Today I came up with the name that I will put on the sign out front:
Metze's Museum
Of Stuff Of No Value
Admission Fee Charged
No Refunds After you See & Agree
There are antique malls in the world that are divided into small sections/stores. Individuals rent a small 12 x 12 foot space (size varies) to sell their antique treasures. The guy at the front of the store takes the money and gives it to the space renter. I don't understand why they don't have most of their stuff stolen off the shelves - no supervision really. This Mall works somewhat for the little guy who could never afford to open a full antique store. I like these places because the products are so varied. It is good entertainment.
.
Last week, we went into a local Mall and found a cookie jar. It looked like an ole whiskey jug from the Ozarks. But the lid lifted off to hold cookies - it was called a Cookie Jug. Cute and worthless - went into my ( NOT WORTHLESS) accumulation of stuff. It helps that my wife likes cookie jars too.
.
But the point has to do with the Mall and my Museum... Let's say that I get this old building and install my stuff in one corner, secured in such a way that nobody can steal it. Then knowing there are guys just like me, I rent spaces out to these guys for them to display their "junk" too. Pretty soon all the old guys in town will want to rent an area to display their junk.
.
Here is an example of some of my stuff - NOT JUNK - Worthy Junk.
I own may 3000 or more key rings. Many years past daughter Christine went with the Texas Tech Plant Judging Team to Florida for a contest. I'm proud of her for doing that in college. When she came home from Florida, she brought little token gifts for everyone. College kids are not loaded with cash for high priced gifts. My gift was a key ring from DisneyWorld ( I think ). As an off handed remark, I said, "I guess I am collecting Key Rings now." It never stopped. I have thousands of keyrings. Many are pretty nice.
.
Another time we had traveled to Levelland for Christmas. As we were sitting around the house, I casually remarked about liking music boxes - and I do. It dawned on me what I had said. So, I quickly modified the remark by restating that I did not want one music box. I wanted to own 300 music boxes, all at the same time. I explained that I didn't want one or two now or then - I want 300 boxes at one time - no in between. I thought this would calm the storm. Nope. I got music boxes for my birthday, Christmas, anytime it was right. Now, I have around 200 or more music boxes all setting out in the garage or on shelves in the house. I love music boxes and wouldn't get rid of any of them. As a matter of fact, I bought one about 2 weeks ago at an estate sale. . . pretty little thing with a Cardinal on top. I love music boxes.
.
Post cards - really old ones and some newer ones. I have a cabinet full of postcards. They are NOT junk.
Furniture - I have a 15 drawer card file cabinet from a school library - a pink metal cabinet from a dental office - a schrade knife display case - a rather large glass sided display case from an old general merchandise store - a wooden egg hatching cabinet with 6 metal shelves - a butcher block table from a restaurant - a pink metal trash can with a swinging lid top - a Star Wars small trash can - the list can go on.
I CANNOT GET rid of this stuff. It is so good. Who would want it? And if they did want it, would it bring enough cash into the house to make a difference. Take the egg hatching cabinet. Let's say someone offered me $200 for it. Fine. I sell. Now I have $200. $200 is not worth much anymore. It would be gone in a few weeks, and I would miss my cabinet. See?
.
So I stop now. This has gone on too long. If you want to go through my museum soon, have your 75 cent admission fee ready in cash. We don't do credit. We don't take checks. We don't give change. Children must be supervised by parents. Dachshunds admitted free.
m3
Some have more stuff than others.
Then, there are the hoarders. I distinguish hoarders and myself by the product hoarded. Example: if someone won't throw away old newspapers = hoarder. If someone won't throw away old National Geographics = not hoarder (me). If someone has 5 dogs, not hoarder. If someone has 104 cats living in the house with no sandbox = hoarder (also, crazy). Maybe Hoarder does equal crazy.
.
I have lots of stuff which has no real value to anyone except me. I'm sure there are people out there who would like to have my stuff or at the very least, some of it. It is a running bit around here that I am going to open a museum which houses only my stuff that nobody else wants. The museum would be located in an old building somewhere in the nice part of town. . . maybe I'd put bars on the windows to create the illusion of quality stuff stored inside.
.
We'll be driving down the street and see a building sitting vacant that nobody else wants to rent or buy - it will be named as a potential museum site. Today I came up with the name that I will put on the sign out front:
Metze's Museum
Of Stuff Of No Value
Admission Fee Charged
No Refunds After you See & Agree
There are antique malls in the world that are divided into small sections/stores. Individuals rent a small 12 x 12 foot space (size varies) to sell their antique treasures. The guy at the front of the store takes the money and gives it to the space renter. I don't understand why they don't have most of their stuff stolen off the shelves - no supervision really. This Mall works somewhat for the little guy who could never afford to open a full antique store. I like these places because the products are so varied. It is good entertainment.
.
Last week, we went into a local Mall and found a cookie jar. It looked like an ole whiskey jug from the Ozarks. But the lid lifted off to hold cookies - it was called a Cookie Jug. Cute and worthless - went into my ( NOT WORTHLESS) accumulation of stuff. It helps that my wife likes cookie jars too.
.
But the point has to do with the Mall and my Museum... Let's say that I get this old building and install my stuff in one corner, secured in such a way that nobody can steal it. Then knowing there are guys just like me, I rent spaces out to these guys for them to display their "junk" too. Pretty soon all the old guys in town will want to rent an area to display their junk.
.
Here is an example of some of my stuff - NOT JUNK - Worthy Junk.
I own may 3000 or more key rings. Many years past daughter Christine went with the Texas Tech Plant Judging Team to Florida for a contest. I'm proud of her for doing that in college. When she came home from Florida, she brought little token gifts for everyone. College kids are not loaded with cash for high priced gifts. My gift was a key ring from DisneyWorld ( I think ). As an off handed remark, I said, "I guess I am collecting Key Rings now." It never stopped. I have thousands of keyrings. Many are pretty nice.
.
Another time we had traveled to Levelland for Christmas. As we were sitting around the house, I casually remarked about liking music boxes - and I do. It dawned on me what I had said. So, I quickly modified the remark by restating that I did not want one music box. I wanted to own 300 music boxes, all at the same time. I explained that I didn't want one or two now or then - I want 300 boxes at one time - no in between. I thought this would calm the storm. Nope. I got music boxes for my birthday, Christmas, anytime it was right. Now, I have around 200 or more music boxes all setting out in the garage or on shelves in the house. I love music boxes and wouldn't get rid of any of them. As a matter of fact, I bought one about 2 weeks ago at an estate sale. . . pretty little thing with a Cardinal on top. I love music boxes.
.
Post cards - really old ones and some newer ones. I have a cabinet full of postcards. They are NOT junk.
Furniture - I have a 15 drawer card file cabinet from a school library - a pink metal cabinet from a dental office - a schrade knife display case - a rather large glass sided display case from an old general merchandise store - a wooden egg hatching cabinet with 6 metal shelves - a butcher block table from a restaurant - a pink metal trash can with a swinging lid top - a Star Wars small trash can - the list can go on.
I CANNOT GET rid of this stuff. It is so good. Who would want it? And if they did want it, would it bring enough cash into the house to make a difference. Take the egg hatching cabinet. Let's say someone offered me $200 for it. Fine. I sell. Now I have $200. $200 is not worth much anymore. It would be gone in a few weeks, and I would miss my cabinet. See?
.
So I stop now. This has gone on too long. If you want to go through my museum soon, have your 75 cent admission fee ready in cash. We don't do credit. We don't take checks. We don't give change. Children must be supervised by parents. Dachshunds admitted free.
m3
Tuesday, February 17, 2015
Westminster
Just watched 2 nights of the Westminster Dog Show. I love this dog show. It is better than the Eucanupy-Eucanupuh - whatever the name of that other one is - it is better because they show EVERY dog .
My wirehair dachshund didn't win - didn't even get in the top 8 hounds - still a beautiful doxie -
.
A Beagle won. Miss P. 15" Beagle. Pretty little thing. I have a semi-fondness for Beagles because one use to live next door out here. When those people moved, they left the Beagle behind. Another neighbor took it.
.
Enough of that - great dog show.
m
My wirehair dachshund didn't win - didn't even get in the top 8 hounds - still a beautiful doxie -
.
A Beagle won. Miss P. 15" Beagle. Pretty little thing. I have a semi-fondness for Beagles because one use to live next door out here. When those people moved, they left the Beagle behind. Another neighbor took it.
.
Enough of that - great dog show.
m
Monday, February 16, 2015
Past relatives
2/16/2015 I just saw the following - written sometime in the past and saved as a draft. I think it will be published now. It is unimportant except to family. I have not proofed it at all. Later. M3.
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We all have ancestors. Many do not care to recognize same, but our ancestors have been here all the same. I can only go back so far even though I have some paperwork that shows more. But the folks I know / knew only go back my lifetime, if you get my drift.
I had two parents (as most have had). Both of them had two parents. I am sure this sequence goes back even "moe far back" than that series. I am fairly convinced there are no sheep in my family tree. Hey, you never know.
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On my father's side: my grandfather was Clyde Marshall Metze, Sr. He lived in southern Oklahoma in and around Temple, OK. I do not know if I ever met my grandmother on that side of the family. I just don't know. I do remember my greatgrandmother, "Grandma LeBarre" vividly. She lived to be 101 or so.
.
My memories of Clyde Sr. are not the best. He had a "Still" in the back room and was liberal in consumption. At one point of his life he ran the water system for Temple. They lived out in the country on the bank of some creek while my father was in high school. The story goes that Clyde invented some device for the water delivery system of temple and as payment received free water for the remainder of his life. That could be a good deal.
.
By the time I was aware that my grandfather was anyone, he was working on his 2nd or 3rd wife - a slobbery female named Minnie. Minnie had a daughter - name escapes me at the moment, not that I really care - who, I think, was morally below the average person. I am not sure since I was rarely left alone with her...try never. My memories are not too clear.
.
I can remember two different houses they had. The first was on a main 2 lane road outside Temple setting in the middle of a field that needed to be mowed but had too much junk laying around to accomplish such a feat. It had a front door and two back doors. I cannot remember ever spending the night there. One of the back doors was about 4 to 5 ft off the ground and had no stairs. This one came out of the daughter's bedroom. Guess it made things a bit tuff for her to go out at night - if she did.
.
The second house was in town about 4 or 5 blocks from downtown. It was a nice looking house from the street....front porch with pillars, no garage. His still was on the back porch. There was a couch by the front window which folded out into a bed. Nobody had air conditioning. Once we arrived, my father would spend a lot of time talking to his father. I couldn't say what was discussed. We were not encouraged to have loving contact with him. Nobody really spent time talking to Minnie.
.
Family stone was that we arrived at the 1st house in time to eat lunch. It was prepared and the table was set. My mother had to stop and re-wash the silverware to get the eggs out of the tongs. Other kitchen things suffered the same. There is an old joke about getting dishes as clean as Cold Water can get them -- Cold Water is the dog's name. Once again we rarely ate there.
.
Occasionally we boys were given a dime or a quarter and sent to walk to town. We did dutifully, walking the downtown streets of Temple. There was nothing there but old buildings, old people, and fallen down junk. The dime was spent on a coke which we drank walking back to the house. I have no memory of my grandfather's funeral even though he did have one.
==============================================
Little side note here. My parents married in college. They attended Cameron College in Lawton, Oklahoma. My father was a center on the football team and my mom was a violin player in the music dept. Soon after they wed, my father's 3 younger brothers were taken in. My mom always talked about raising these boys. This should give you an idea of the home they had back in Temple. I don't have the slightest idea where my folks found the money to keep these 3 boys in food. I'm sure there are some long lost stories about that time in their lives. In my humble opinion, all of the 4 boys were very successful in their lives: one lawyer, one veternarian, one electrical engineer, and my father who had various careers - described at a later date if you please.
===============================================
=========================================================
We all have ancestors. Many do not care to recognize same, but our ancestors have been here all the same. I can only go back so far even though I have some paperwork that shows more. But the folks I know / knew only go back my lifetime, if you get my drift.
I had two parents (as most have had). Both of them had two parents. I am sure this sequence goes back even "moe far back" than that series. I am fairly convinced there are no sheep in my family tree. Hey, you never know.
===========================================================
On my father's side: my grandfather was Clyde Marshall Metze, Sr. He lived in southern Oklahoma in and around Temple, OK. I do not know if I ever met my grandmother on that side of the family. I just don't know. I do remember my greatgrandmother, "Grandma LeBarre" vividly. She lived to be 101 or so.
.
My memories of Clyde Sr. are not the best. He had a "Still" in the back room and was liberal in consumption. At one point of his life he ran the water system for Temple. They lived out in the country on the bank of some creek while my father was in high school. The story goes that Clyde invented some device for the water delivery system of temple and as payment received free water for the remainder of his life. That could be a good deal.
.
By the time I was aware that my grandfather was anyone, he was working on his 2nd or 3rd wife - a slobbery female named Minnie. Minnie had a daughter - name escapes me at the moment, not that I really care - who, I think, was morally below the average person. I am not sure since I was rarely left alone with her...try never. My memories are not too clear.
.
I can remember two different houses they had. The first was on a main 2 lane road outside Temple setting in the middle of a field that needed to be mowed but had too much junk laying around to accomplish such a feat. It had a front door and two back doors. I cannot remember ever spending the night there. One of the back doors was about 4 to 5 ft off the ground and had no stairs. This one came out of the daughter's bedroom. Guess it made things a bit tuff for her to go out at night - if she did.
.
The second house was in town about 4 or 5 blocks from downtown. It was a nice looking house from the street....front porch with pillars, no garage. His still was on the back porch. There was a couch by the front window which folded out into a bed. Nobody had air conditioning. Once we arrived, my father would spend a lot of time talking to his father. I couldn't say what was discussed. We were not encouraged to have loving contact with him. Nobody really spent time talking to Minnie.
.
Family stone was that we arrived at the 1st house in time to eat lunch. It was prepared and the table was set. My mother had to stop and re-wash the silverware to get the eggs out of the tongs. Other kitchen things suffered the same. There is an old joke about getting dishes as clean as Cold Water can get them -- Cold Water is the dog's name. Once again we rarely ate there.
.
Occasionally we boys were given a dime or a quarter and sent to walk to town. We did dutifully, walking the downtown streets of Temple. There was nothing there but old buildings, old people, and fallen down junk. The dime was spent on a coke which we drank walking back to the house. I have no memory of my grandfather's funeral even though he did have one.
==============================================
Little side note here. My parents married in college. They attended Cameron College in Lawton, Oklahoma. My father was a center on the football team and my mom was a violin player in the music dept. Soon after they wed, my father's 3 younger brothers were taken in. My mom always talked about raising these boys. This should give you an idea of the home they had back in Temple. I don't have the slightest idea where my folks found the money to keep these 3 boys in food. I'm sure there are some long lost stories about that time in their lives. In my humble opinion, all of the 4 boys were very successful in their lives: one lawyer, one veternarian, one electrical engineer, and my father who had various careers - described at a later date if you please.
===============================================
Yesterday
Has it really been this long since I sat here and rambled about stuff. I suppose so. Lots of things have happened - very little of earth shaking happenings - at least in my backyard world.
.
Yesterday was a pretty good day.
.
On Sat. daughter Christine drove up with her (now) 2 dogs. She has lost two fine dogs this past year: Buddy and Wesley. Actually, Buddy's name was Butty, but I find that hard to mouth. They were great pound puppies once they settled into their new world. Loss of both was traumatic. Now she has Oli and Bella. Oli's real name was Ali. He showed up on Christine's doorstep several days in a row, running away from a duplex down the block. The Black Family down there owned Ali. Being Black is only relevant because of Ali's name - named after Muhammad Ali, the boxer. I'm sure they were fine folk; but, Ali - or, now, Oli, enjoyed Christine's dogs more. The family readily gave the little dachshund to Christine. All is well.
.
Bella joined her family about a month ago from a shelter - I think in Waco. She is a dachshund - dorky mix - or something. Long ears, curly coat, long doxie tail, face of a doxie but hair of a different breed. Bella had belonged to a lady in a home - but Bellas was way too active for the situation. Sad-really. She is another ball dog similar to my Oscar. If she can, the ball is being chased. Sweet little girl, fits right in.
.
Saturday night we smoked some pork ribs and wrapped presents and threw the ball (s) for Oscar and Bella. It was a good time.
.
The dogs were put away Sunday as we traveled north to Arlington to meet daughter Laura and husband Tom at a Panchos. For my niece Sharla's info, Laura chose the restaurant. ( Sharla doesn't think "Panchos" and "Restaurant" belong in the same breath. ) It was not my idea, while I think it was a superb idea. I tried to "upgrade" the outing to a finer (humor here) restaurant: The Golden Corral. There is a fab. Golden Corral just west of Hwy 157 on I-20 near Grand Prairie. Sometimes this place is known in our family as the Trough.
.
There had been some communication by Laura to other DFW family members to join us for lunch. Conflicts arose and nobody else arrived. But, we 5 had a good time and overate, which IS what Panchos is all about. The conversation was brisk; the food flew off the plates; the sopapillas looked beautiful; etc.
.
This was our mild celebration of Laura's birthday which was on the 5th of February. It takes a while to find dates to meet when all are scattered throughout the State.
.
I'll say it again. It was a good day. It could have been a bit nicer if some others had been there - but, on the other hand, the conversation might have been too complicated for my little brain if we had added more folks.
With that I close. Once again I vow to write more often. Once again.
m3
.
Yesterday was a pretty good day.
.
On Sat. daughter Christine drove up with her (now) 2 dogs. She has lost two fine dogs this past year: Buddy and Wesley. Actually, Buddy's name was Butty, but I find that hard to mouth. They were great pound puppies once they settled into their new world. Loss of both was traumatic. Now she has Oli and Bella. Oli's real name was Ali. He showed up on Christine's doorstep several days in a row, running away from a duplex down the block. The Black Family down there owned Ali. Being Black is only relevant because of Ali's name - named after Muhammad Ali, the boxer. I'm sure they were fine folk; but, Ali - or, now, Oli, enjoyed Christine's dogs more. The family readily gave the little dachshund to Christine. All is well.
.
Bella joined her family about a month ago from a shelter - I think in Waco. She is a dachshund - dorky mix - or something. Long ears, curly coat, long doxie tail, face of a doxie but hair of a different breed. Bella had belonged to a lady in a home - but Bellas was way too active for the situation. Sad-really. She is another ball dog similar to my Oscar. If she can, the ball is being chased. Sweet little girl, fits right in.
.
Saturday night we smoked some pork ribs and wrapped presents and threw the ball (s) for Oscar and Bella. It was a good time.
.
The dogs were put away Sunday as we traveled north to Arlington to meet daughter Laura and husband Tom at a Panchos. For my niece Sharla's info, Laura chose the restaurant. ( Sharla doesn't think "Panchos" and "Restaurant" belong in the same breath. ) It was not my idea, while I think it was a superb idea. I tried to "upgrade" the outing to a finer (humor here) restaurant: The Golden Corral. There is a fab. Golden Corral just west of Hwy 157 on I-20 near Grand Prairie. Sometimes this place is known in our family as the Trough.
.
There had been some communication by Laura to other DFW family members to join us for lunch. Conflicts arose and nobody else arrived. But, we 5 had a good time and overate, which IS what Panchos is all about. The conversation was brisk; the food flew off the plates; the sopapillas looked beautiful; etc.
.
This was our mild celebration of Laura's birthday which was on the 5th of February. It takes a while to find dates to meet when all are scattered throughout the State.
.
I'll say it again. It was a good day. It could have been a bit nicer if some others had been there - but, on the other hand, the conversation might have been too complicated for my little brain if we had added more folks.
With that I close. Once again I vow to write more often. Once again.
m3
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