that's it - over and out - goodbye

 Yes sir, that's it !  I'm through.  Finished.  Whomp. Omega, No More, Blah .... &*^$@$^**^$&   ... where the sun don't shine.  Bugs in the flour.   Cheeeeee

One more day and U B Gone 2023.  Nobody wants you to hang around; Nobody!

Fine  -  D.S. al Coda - ZZZZZZZZZZ --  All Done.  Had It!!  Move over and give somebody else a chance.  Brown shoes in a row of tuxedos.  Check your zipper.

Zip = Nada = Finis  = Bottom of the Barrel = The End!!  Snore = Had it =  Yuk = kaput

What else can I say?  Lights off.  Nothing to see here.   Move over shorty.  Over and Out.  Up chuck.  You chuck.  Chuck Chucks.  Just window dressing.  

-----------------------------

Can 2024 be any better?

I heard that it doesn't speak well to "drop the ball" starting a new year.

Sure we all have issues with what happens under our watch. All of us.  There will be mistakes in 2420.

-----------------------------

While you are here.

Happy Birthday to my oldest child.  She's not to happy to have the actual year number broadcast to the World.  What World?  As if My writing reached thousand, even hundreds.  I respect her wishes.

Had a new experience today.  In my 83 years, I have never made a cupcake.  Today, I did.  Red Velvet cupcakes right out of a Duncan Hines box.  Icing comes next.  Another new experience.  Yes, I have led a sheltered life.  Birthday Cake is red velvet with white icing.  Y'all come.  (really, that wasn't an invite for people to show up on my doorstep.  Go make your own cupcakes.)(with white icing).

-----------------------------

Love this.  That may sound cruel.  Did you know the gentleman who invented the Wind Chill Factor for the weather bureau has died?  Yes.  He has died.  He was remarkably 83 years old as I am.                      but, it felt like 72.   Whoosh!!!!!!!!  

m

sniff - wheeze - snort - garafetch - honk!!!

 Ending my 2nd day of blowing my snorting nose.  I can be sitting quietly when there is a bit of tickle in side of he nostril; then, if I'm not fast enough with the Kleenex, a clear liquid will flow out and drip on whatever is below.  Splash!  Neat little circle of clear liquid - none of yellowie goopy stuff that seems to follow an infection.

Now, sure, this is not earth shattering.  People get colds all the time.  I don't.  No temperature.  No sore throat.  Just - wait for it - wait for it - tickle tickle - FLOOD!

Before I continue, please note that I realize a tissue is a tissue  and Kleenex is a copyrighted trade name.  In my world, they are one and the same ==> like all soft drinks are Cokes, all refrigerators are Frigidaires.  Generic words.  Why is my computer telling me that this program's program is having trouble updating what I am typing.  It is suppose to be automatic.  Does this mean that my wi-fi is not working?  nope, not it.  Just checked my phone and it says we are connected.

So that is it.  Christmas Eve Eve and I am 2 days into being a dripping monster.  Hasbro may want to make an action figure based on this.  I remember when a certain doll came with diapers.  You put a bottle of water in the mouth, it flowed out the other end.  I suppose little girls and weirdos liked that idea. What's wrong with an action figure with a dripping nose?  

So that's it.  Waiting for a couple of days now for the actual Christmas Day.  The daughter has made some delicious klubosniks and blue berry muffins.  Add in a ham and sweet potatoes.  It all adds up to being a nice couple of days if I can just get by the tissue issue.  I like that.  tissue issue.

Merry Christmas to all and a Happy New Year.

mtz

I am Naked

Different happenings affect different peoples in different ways.  

Now, that was a jewel of a sentence.  I read in this morning paper that some teachers (they cited a couple of female HS teachers in the St. Louis area) - some teachers were joining pornographic websites and posting pictures and videos.  They make money doing it.  Really?  Yes, really.

One young lady said she saw no problem since she never showed her face.  Really?  Yes, really.  That is why people go to porn websites, I am sure.  "Oh, man, did you see that video?  My English teacher didn't even show her face!" The lady said she had paid off her student loans with the proceeds.  Of course, that is worthless since she may never teach again, and she'll have to go back to school to get a new major - one with less standards. 

That/This is NOT why I am naked.

Sidebar:  would people actually pay money to see an over-weight, 83 year old balding man - don't forget my prominent age spots????  Age spots are so attractive.

Moving on.

Two weeks ago, on a Tuesday, I had my left cataract lens removed and replaced with a brand new lens - acrylic product.  Then, last Tuesday, I returned to have the right eye operated on.  Now, I have two new lenses in my eyes, no cataracts.  The doctor says my eyes are now 20/20.  I don't doubt it.  I see things far away without my old glasses.  Doctor suggests that I will need READERS for up close work.  Follow me here.

In the 6th grade, my parents took me to an optometrist in Lubbock - nice gent.  He determined that I must wear glasses.  How old was I in the 6th grade?  I'm guess 11 since I started a year early in school.  Do the math:  I am 83 now.  I have worn glasses since I was 11.  =  equals  =  I have had glasses on my face for 72 years.   72 years!!  That's a long time.  Plastic frames - metal frames - plastic lenses - glass lenses - single lens - bi focal lenses - graduated lenses - and, let us not forget:  Broken plastic lenses held together with black plastic tape.  You name it; I've had em all.

I remember once, in Ardmore, one of my top high school clarinet players - boy  - Joel Johnson, Jr. = came to class with new wire framed glasses somewhat similar to what Benjamin Franklin might have worn.  This was in the 70s.  He swore it was the next big thing.  Not for me, I muttered.  I was wearing great big ole black plastic glasses that hugged my head on the sides.  BUT, Times Do Change.  My last pairs were metal.  I was swearing that I'd never get them thar plastic frames again like those we see on TV.

My Readers are plastic, of course.

So, you see, I have worn glasses for 72 years.  I'd take them off to read up close.  That was easier than holding my head up and looking down through the progressive lens bottom in order to read.  I could read fine.  But, when I stood, I grabbed my wire-frames and dressed myself properly.

I utterly feel naked without my glasses attached to the front of my face.  Conspicuous, too.  I just know that every stranger I meet at Walmart is staring at me wondering where my glasses have gone.   In truth, they stare for other reasons.  I am not easy to look at in my old age.  I fit naturally into the Halloween crowd.  And, then, of course, there is that finger sticking out of my nose.

I wonder if I can get some some wire frames with clear lenses?  If not for me, for the policeman who pulls me over and says, "Your driver's license says you are suppose to wear glasses.  Step out of the car, sir."  Growing old is not easy, so they say.

As we left the doctor's office after our last post-op visit, the doc said something about the good of cataract surgery.  Cataracts never return.  I tried to get him to understand:  it took me 83 years to get Cataracts, can he promise when I am 166 years old, that I will not have a return of the dreaded cataracts?  I think not.

I leave with this thought.  They should not be named cataracts.  Based on the costs, Cadillac is more fitting.

Merry Christmas and the Happiest New Year to y'all !!!

mtz

The next Monday night

 As I sit here watching a Rockford re-run - - - 

I go back in tomorrow morning to get my right eye fixed - cataracts.  I assume that I need to get this done.  That is one of the things about this particular thing.   You don't really know how bad your situation really is.  Could I exist the way I am for another 5 - 10 years?  Or, do I need this done pretty much now so I won't crash my car?

I have faith.  This doctor is straight forward, I believe.  so, tomorrow morning:  slice slice sew sew heal heal.   I do love those eye drops.  

Once again family has come together to get me through this.  The joys of the medical way.

m

Dec. 8th - today

 Short and to the point.

Nothing exciting happened today.  Nothing.  It was peaceful.  I find it so nice to have a regular quiet day.  If you have gone through turmoil, today would be one of your favorites.

m

Dec. 7th - more

 Pearl Harbor day.  I was only 2 years old when that happened.  I don't remember it.  I wonder if the Japanese people are getting tired of hearing about it?  

Little bit about my cataract surgery for those who have had the experience - - In my case, I arrived at 9:30.  Bells on.  They had me use dial anti-bacterial soap before I came.  I don't know why.  My instructions said to not shave the area.  So, I left my eyebrows and eye lashes alone.  But, I did shave my teeth and tongue.

I had to remove my top - shirt - and get all metal out of my pockets.  A gown was put on over my jeans.  They put blue things over my shoes which remained on.  Interesting.  One doc said I would not be completely out - just  really happy.  I suppose I was.  Rolled in & done in a few short minutes.  I was awake by the time I returned to the room directly from the operating room.  Who'd a thought?

I was out of there before 11:45.  My eye doctor left me with the following sentence, " Enjoy your lunch."  And, I did.

They put a plastic thing over the eye secure with tape.  It came off when I got home.  I sleep with the plastic guard for a week to keep my from rubbing the eye while sleeping.

On the next day, I was back at the hospital.  More drops in my eye - read an eye chart - he says the eye is testing as 20/20.  That's the best I can remember since the 6th grade.  The right eye goes under on Tuesday.  More eye drops, more happy sleep juice, and a new plastic eye patch.   My brother-in-law suggested I get a black patch so I could be more like a pirate.  Maybe next time.

Today is trash day.  I'm washing clothes.  In my 61 years of marriage I never washed clothes or rarely made the bed.  Conditions do change.  Now, I do both.  I guess it is some type of punishment for a few of my sins.

---------

We tried a new (to us) Mexican restaurant last night.  I think it is part of chain that is in Jerrell and Temple on loop 363.  We will not be going back.  The food is fine.  The hot sauce is really nice.  But, the music is so loud.  We were unable to have a conversation.  I turned down my hearing aids.  The wife was in a "state" - we ate and left before she could have a meltdown.  Where did we go?  We went to sonic and got her a Vanilla trick or treat Blast...her 2nd one ever.  It was wonderful and seem to make the world all better.  I can't remember the name of the restaurant - across the street south from Belton Walmart and a bit to the west -- green lights on it.  

see ya soon

m 

Dec. 6th - I hope things settle down a bit - SOON

 As always, I start my blog thingy with an apology for coming here infrequently.  

THIS was the week (end) that was.  Some TIMES are better than others.  I'll start with the good thing:

Sharisa, one of my favorite all-time students when I taught at Manor, French horn player, graduated pretty much when I graduated (retired from teaching).  Days and years have passed.  I saw where Sharisa will be 40 years old on Saturday.  40 years old.  I suppose she was 18 when she graduated - when to college - came back, married Chris (former trombone player), & taught school - and became an elementary Principal.  Can you believe it?  I have problems with the age thing.

Anyway, Happy Birthday to Sharisa even though she'll never read this.

My own oldest turns 59 this year.  I can't stand it.   My wife & I did hit the 83 mark this year...not that I'm counting.

====================

I'll make this next item short.  Saturday morning,  I woke up about 8 a.m.  Normally, I snort and roll over, hoping for 9 o'clock.  I heard this really loud noise to my right.  I though one of the dogs was into something.  I rolled in that direction.  It was my wife.  Her breathing was labored and loud.  Jumping out of bed I ran around to her side of the bed and tried to wake her.  It was no use.  I could see she was having some type of episode.

As best I could, I rolled her over on her side and tried to see if the breathing was anything I could help.  No.   She was in trouble.  I thought seizure and worse.  With her on her side.  I grabbed the phone and called 911.  The guy was very nice and helped me with what I was trying to do.  When he & I figured out that his job was through, I quickly put on a pair of pants - pajamas are not for visitors.  I found the 3 dogs and got them into the back yard - locked out.

The front door was opened and unlocked.  I called my oldest.  She had gone into work early that day as a sub helping the company out - got off about 7 a.m.  She was on her way.

Paramedics arrived through the front door.  2 of them.  Older guy and a younger gal.  They settled right in  on the problem - oxygen etc.  3 other guys showed up and joined into the process.  I stood back and tried to breathe.  Eventually, one of the guys came to me and said something like,  "I want to be honest with you, she is very serious.  I believe she has had a stroke."  We discussed the Directives and whether I'd agree to a breathing tube.

After what seemed like an eternity, they rolled out the front door and to the ambulance.  The tube was inserted there= I believe.   Doesn't matter.  They were gone on the way to Baylor Scott & White in Temple.  In time Christine arrived  - dogs were freed - and we were off to the hospital emergency room.  All of this took about 45 to 40 minutes total.  felt like hours.

----

Arriving at the hospital, we were ushered into a room.  By this time she had come out of the trance and was talking and questioning.  Making it brief, we met 475 doctors, staff, and nurses.  I paid them $75.  She was moved up to the 6th floor.  Christine spent the night with her.  Family was called and arrived.

Now was it Saturday when this started or was it Friday.  I just couldn't tell you.  It could have been 4 or 7 days.  that's a blur.  

Doctors decided it was a seizure only.  Her first & my first. One night in the hospital  - all children arrived via car and plane.  Home on Sunday for rest and one new drug.  As of now, all seems fine.  Hope and Pray for no more seizures.  They are terrible.

----------

Moving on.  Tuesday morning I had cataract surgery on my left eye.  Wed., the doctor said the new lens showed 20/20 vision.  Right eye will be next Tuesday.  That was an experience for sure.  If you want a running dialog on CADILLAC surgery $$$, let me know.  My eye still has pain at times.  I have removed the left lens from my glasses.  I can pretty much see in sync that way.  Novel experience.

Dr. Morgan at BSW.  I can recommend his work (if you ask).

Let's stop now.  I'll to babble more in the future.  Y'all take care.

m

H.S. SPORTS {& side bar on names}

This morning, I had no intention of doing another blog/blug thing.  Sat. morn.  Nuthin' goin' on'.  We have no plans for today.  Could run into town to the farmer's market - cascade into Temple for a couple of estate sales - visit Belton Walmart to make fun of people - side trip to Killeen for Chinese food - slog over to Stillhouse Hollow Lake to look at the new sand bars (we are getting thirsty)  =  stay at home and not watch TV.  What's on TV on a Saturday?  Golf. Sports. Cooking Shows. Bad News. Cartoons. Must be something interesting on TV.  Jewelry sales?  Emeril hawking toaster ovens? Prostate shows?   Nah, none of these meet our standard.  We do have standards.

Got up.  Put on pants.  Walked out front to retrieve newspaper ( "i" B4 "e," except after "C" ).  Pulled a couple of Eggos from our deep Frozer.  Sugar free syrup + butter  and OJ.  Pretty good breakfast.  I'll be hungry by noon.  Opened newspaper to sports page.  3 articles on the  1st page that got my juices going.

@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@

The first.  Wait.  I am not a sports fan except when it comes to Texas Tech.  That is only because I went there.  I want them to win because it makes ME look better when I apply for a job.  At 82 and 5/6ths, I apply for a lot of jobs ya know.  Still, granddots attend Tech.  I support them & Tech in every way except spending money and waving flags,

Back to regular subject:  the first article.  Two H.S. in Belton.  Belton HS (as you may have guessed) and Lake Belton HS north of town.  Interestingly, I believe Lake Belton is located in Temple city limits.  Hmmmm.  L.B.H.S. is pretty new.  They have only been playing competition ball for a couple of years or so.  or so.  SOOO, they played Leander Rouse last night, Friday, at LBHS.   One Minute before halftime,  L.B. is ahead 34-10.  WHAM!!!   BAM!!!!  Sparks Flew!! Everything went black.  A transformer serving the stadium blew up.  

As darkness settled on the stadium the moon was shining.  It was a cloudless night as most nights have been since it quit raining in central Texas last June.  Give your eyes a moment to adjust.  We have 2 hostile football teams lining the sidelines - 24 on the field facing each other with a (moon) gleam in their eyes.  Behind 34-10, I'm sure Rouse stood ready to play in the moonlight.  

It was just 1 minute before halftime.  Two bands are poised on the sidelines ready to march forth and demonstrate their wares.  Moms sitting in the stands wringing their widdle hands afraid their 6' 5" linebacker will somehow be electrocuted - maybe Chicken Fried if you will.  The good thing about dying at the game:  the school will dedicate the yearbook to you in the spring.  That is worthy of consideration.

I can see it now.  Nobody is moving except a lone hawk soaring over the stadium looking for a lost hot dog slathered in mustard.  The coaches meet the refs in the middle of the field.  Here comes the Superintendents and Principals and various other important figures (in their mind, important).  Much talking.  Much gesturing.   Much  looking at flaming transformer, sparking its heart out.   They called the game.  Right there.  It's over.  Nobody volunteered to climb the pole and spray water on the flame.

As the stadium empties - there must be no P.A. system to announce anything I would guess - all grope for belongings - teams scour the area to find all equipment and Gatoraide bottles - the bands tramp back to the stands to retrieve everything.  Their either head for their local bandroom or to the band buses.  Cheerleaders, not quite with the program, are still on the field making pyramids and flying through the air holding lit candles in their teeth.  

An hour later, all is quiet.  Not even the scoreboard is broadcasting the 34-10 first half score.  Band Directors are pleased to be getting home an hour and a half / maybe 2 hours / early.  I wonder if either band tried to do their halftime show in the moon light - just for practice of course.  It would have been a glorious - bring a tear to the eye.

The one redeeming factor:  everyone, NO, LET'S SAY EVERYBODY, turned on their cell phones, flashlights and all.  They could have aimed the phones towards the field and finished the game.  How fun would it have been to see a marching band flashing their phones to the rhythm of the music.

AND, THAT, was only # 1 from the sports page.

#######################################################

#2  I'll try to keep this short.  Temple H.S. FOOTBALL team has entered the record books by winning its 800th game - that is 800 games since football started in Temple maybe ABOUT 100 years ago.  They scratched through records and reports until they found 799 games.  Playoffs last year provided the chance for number 800.  But, the tigers lost in the playoffs.  Eagerly, we held our breaths as one, together, awaiting the 2023 season in order to score that 800th game.  Now, it has been done.  The thrill still lingers for those who were part of this season ... we will remember it in our hearts for years to come.  I imagine that at least one of the players will have it listed in his obituary 60 years from now.  "Bubba had 12 children and was on the Temple football team that racked up their 800th win for all time.  Members of team were: ......"  No mention of his children's names.

There was an article in the Temple paper last week.  You can find it online if you want to know what other Texas schools have triumphed 800+ times.  I know Amarillo HS was one.  I think they used to hire oil field roustabouts to come into town on Friday night and play for them - before you sue me - I'm not really sure about that; it was a rumor I once heard when I was teaching across town.

It is interesting that only 4 teams have ever had 800+ wins in their entire existence.  

Just a quick calculation.  100 more wins to 900.  10 games a year not counting playoff games.  If they don't lose again, they can have 900 in 10 years....assuming they don't win any playoff games.  If you have a 7 yr old football player, move to Temple now so HE/SHE can be a part of the 900th win.  Oh, the anticipation.

$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$

#3   I once read about a visiting team that took the opening kick and ran for a touchdown.  The home stands went silent.  On the next kickoff, the home team ran for a touchdown.  7 to 7    They began the game again, even.  Wish I had been there.

      Last year I read about a team that made the playoffs in Texas.  The locals were thrilled.  It was written up in the newspaper and the coach was praised.  Their record that year was 3-7.  In Texas, the top 4 teams in all districts advance to the playoffs.  Let's say there are 4, maybe 5, schools in your district.  All you have to do is beat ONE team to make the playoffs.  With only 4 teams in your district, your record could be 0-10 and still be in the playoffs.  Yes, we praise the coach.  I admire him for taking advantage of the situation to support his team (and his future job offers).  Wouldn't it be nice in life to be able to lose everything and still get a bonus?   I love sports (snicker).

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

#4 Before I start this last epic, I would like to apologize to anyone who may be directly insulted.  I really mean no harm.  The chances of mentioned people seeing this note is very small.

I was reading another sports page story when I ran across some first names.  In the article in the order they appear, here are the mentioned football player's first names.

We have Ja'Quorius covering a fumble - Braylan throwing a touchdown pass - Kardias ran for a touchdown - Kason caused a fumble - Coach is Rick - Cody recovered a fumble - Elijah scored  a touchdown - Dominic scored - Homero kicked a field goal - and Cole covered a fumble.  Sure were a lot of fumbles.

Whoever did this report must have had a list of players.  First names are interesting to me.  Some day go find a list of the local cheerleaders or drill team members.  The names are so different than when I was a kid.  We had Pat - Mike - Jim - George - John - Jerry.   My wife was a Brenda in elementary school.  There were 2 other Brendas in the same classroom.  Thus, she became Brenda Joy.  Preferred loved names change over the years.  You can't find many Brendas anymore.

I read that Katrina and Ida use to be popular names until the hurricanes hit New Orleans.  Now, nobody wants to name their kid Katrina - ?? afraid the kid will be a hurricane in the house ??

I'm through.  Keep your first name.  It's okay with me.  In the future, the world will have to learn to spell it.  My middle name is Eugene.  My mother blessed me with that, naming me after Uncle Gene.  There have been some great Eugenes in the world.  Perhaps you have met a few.

see ya, love ya, don't do stupid things....

m

The life and times of ...

 yes.  The life and times of .... me. 

My previous blog mentioned certain things that always happen.  At my age, I am in a rut.  I do certain things on certain days.  Our water company (I don't own.  When I say "our," I mean the one we use.)  They limit us to watering one day a week.  I project, soon, they will eliminate that too.  Our lake is low.  

We water on Wednesday.  It may not be in the true spirit of the issue, but we water GOOD on Wednesday.  I have the system set to start at midnight plus 30.  The entire yard gets sprinkled.  Then, when we get up in the morn, we hand water the trees.  By 10 a.m. we are through.  They ruled that you can water from midnight to 10 a.m.  and from 8 p.m. until midnight.  We have, We done, We did.

Monday, I took the wife to a podiatrist.  She has some funky toe nails that are real tough.  The guy worked on them - then, after I asked, he said we should find one of the stores that does nails and go regularly.  It is our plan.  another thing to add to my  monthly rituals.  She gets to put that smelly Vaseline type stuff - can't remember name of it - children put on the chest when they have colds.  Blue stuff.  Anyway, doc has her put on toe nails to make them softer for cutting.

Today, I am going for a haircut.  It happens regularly.

=================================================================

That didn't work out.  The above was written a while back.  I paused to do something of earth shaking importance - never returned.  Could you tell?  My, how a couple of weeks change things.  I'll try to take them in some type of order.

1st of all, the haircut.  Didn't happen.   I hate going to barbers.  Not really.  Yes, I do hate it.  I will not go into one of those fast places full of 12 year old girls cutting hair and trying to make you love them - I don't mean love in the LOVE sense.  They want return customers.  I'm too old to believe that any female in that position really cares what I am doing or doing it with.  Leave me alone.  If you must talk, speak of innocuous subjects.  Never loved sports or talking about them.   The weather is good.  "Yep, it is really hot."  "Nope, I don't think it is gonna rain anytime soon."  Cut my hair; leave me alone.  "Yes, I know my eyebrows are bushy."  Uhhhhhh

I have found a barber in Belton - small shop on 6th street - so far no female cutters - just burly guys getting the job done.  I tried a couple of other places in town.  Didn't work out.  One had this really short lady.  I don't think I've ever had anyone be so rough, banging around on the top of my head.  There's not much up there;  be careful  (that's not much inside and outside).  This 6th street shop has several different barbers.  I'm not sure that I have ever seen the same one twice.  $14.00   Back in Corsicana, I found this guy who cut it for $7.  Liked him a lot.  Too far to drive to save $7.

So, I went into town.  Big closed sign on the door.  Went on to Walmart with every intention of returning.  Returned.  Same "Closed" sign - noticed a smaller paper taped to the inside of the door.  Sighed.  "Vacation.  Be back on the 15th"   That is next Tuesday.  This was Thursday.

Returned the following Friday week.  The barber eliminated my burly hair mess and left me shorn.  [ you shear sheep.  Shear, Sear, Shore, Shorn, Shorned]   When I taught,  students would make fun of my hair cuts - let's face it - they made fun of everything I did.  I always explained that I had found an Indian Barber who enjoyed his work.  That was especially true sounding when I taught in Oklahoma.  

I started life getting burr cuts.  Later, I advanced to a cross between Dagwood and Dennis the Menace.  In mid-High School times, say 1955, my family conned me into getting a flat top.  it worked for me through college into the mid-70s.  Returned to the Dagwood cut when we lived in Ardmore.   Now, the top is thinning.  There's a little hole in the back of my head.  When I wash hair, my scalp is way too easy to see.  I come close to a shimmer.

I walk into the barber shop - 2 guys in front of me.  Chairs were sparse unless you wanted to sit right beside another.  We guys frown on that kind of elbow touching unless it is with your wife or another beautiful creature.  Finally, the big man in front of me sat in the chair.  I'm next.  The barber and customer seemed to be old friends.  I'd guess they went through high school together.  In walks a black garbed giant with a gun on his hip - badge printed on his shirt.   Within 2 minutes, another black garbed giant with Sheriff printed on his back - he joined us.  I felt safe.

The man in the chair had a short burr hairdo.  He said to the barber, "Can you make it shorter, this weather is really hot."  { Really?  Wear a hat! }  Assuring the friend customer, our bearded barber (he reminded me of the guys on the duck call show) soaped up the head, dome if you will - wrapped it in a hot towel - twice - pulled out a blade and shaved the head.  I have these age spots all over my face and head.  If you used a blade, I would be a bleeding mess covered with band-aids.   Enjoy your 50 year old youth feller.  The spots are coming.

My turn.  I told him to cut it back.  He did.  I gave him 3 fives and split.  Wanted to stay and see if the black garbed, gun totting, badge encrusted giants talked about the weather or shoot outs.  Never will know.

+++++++++++++++++++++++

WATER.  See above:  we had been cut to one day watering a week.  Not now.  The water company is doing repairs and "IMPROVING" the system (sure), no watering at all outside.  This distressed us.  We have spent pretty big bucks on trees and bushes and crepe myrtles and fruit trees and our vegetable garden.  No water for 2 to 3 weeks in this 105+ weather will surely kill all.  Already, the bermuda has died.  It is too expensive to re-buy trees.  Digging the holes in this soil is back breaking.

My daughter bought 2 - then another - big rubber tanks with in and out takes.  We load them up in the truck - drive into Round Rock (as an example) and fill the tanks with water.  Back home, the water is divided among the trees.  We capture water from showers, baths, and kitchen sink.  This is all taken outside to the plants.

Here is my question.  We have this problem.  Will the water company do anything to make it better for next year?  Really?  What are they planning?  

In Salado we have I-35 running down the middle of things.  East of I-35 gets well water.  West of I-35 pulls water from Stillhouse Hollow Lake.  I'm on the west side.  The east side, primarily the real town and old settlers and country club, they still have water.  The west side, primarily new developments of housing, we do not.  I wonder, is there a big valve somewhere that connects the east with the west?  If there is, why won't they share?  Bunch of socialist ...

Maybe the west side needs a few wells to take the pressure off the lake problems.  I don't know.  Did I study "Water" when I was in college?  Nope.  Should have.  This driving to fill up water tanks, and, then, hand delivering it to the plants.  That is hard work in the heat. I'm open for suggestions.

======================

I have one more stone about out air conditioner.  I tire.  Time to get the mail.  Save the AC for another time.  School buses just rolled by.  5 bouncing children exited and scurried down the street.  My pooch Sadie told them "What For!!!"  

see ya later, MM

Here we are again.

So many things come around again and again.  We expect some and even happily anticipate others.  I like Christmas.  My wife doesn't like the hoopla.  I've lived with that negativity for years.  Thanksgiving:  who doesn't like the day with family and specialized food.  I used to like it more; but, since this diabetes thing where I should not eat certain things, it has lost a bit of charm.  No pie or sweet potato covered in marshmallows.  Still I get a turkey leg and klubosniks.  

For years in my family - I mean all the way back when I was a little kid too - I got the drumstick.  Every year.  Every year.  I savored the treat.  Then, about, say 4 to 5 years ago, two of my granddaughters stated they wanted a drumstick as we sat down to eat.  There were only 2.  It made me a bit mad.  I tried to handle things correctly.  My true feelings were there.  

The next year, I bought an extra package of six drum sticks.  It was better.  I do try to be in place to grab one of the 8 drum sticks early.  With ornery children, you never know what has been plotted in the back smoky filled room.

So, certain days are anticipated.  We got that.  

Tomorrow, my wife and I have our 61st anniversary.  They do come around once a year.  61 years - that's a long time.  It wasn't all roses and lollipops.  On the average it was a pretty good run of sixty-one.  We drove off in my brother Marshall's 1962 light blue Ford convertible heading west for the Grand Canyon, HONEYMOON.  I was so naive.  Who would have thought you'd have to get a reservation to stay in main hotel of the Grand Canyon during the first week of August.  Never mind, though, we enjoyed the trip and didn't go broke.   Marshall loaned us his American Express card for the trip just in case.  Credit cards were foreign to us.  It was eye opening trip. in many ways.

Hopefully, we will make it to year 62.  Married in 1962 - celebrate #62 - that should be a bit noteworthy.  Bring on the dancing girls.

Taxes - birthdays - start of a new school year - Super Bowl - you can name so many repeaters.  My retired weeks and months roll around.  I pay my bills on a certain day.  We take out the trash on Thursdays.  My pitiful social security check comes on the 12th.  {side bar:  Texas teachers don't pay into social security - we have a retirement plan.  Thus, my few quarters of payments for various other jobs in the past, they do not amount to much.  Ten years teaching in Oklahoma got me 40 quarters.  Hey, the check  is not enormous.  I'm not giving it back.  Would you? }

My big issue of today, Friday.  The MEGA MILLIONS TAX.  That is what my son calls it when you buy a lottery ticket.  I think he was the one who said it.  I buy one ticket for $2.  That's a $2 tax since I never win the millions.  My own fault.  Stupid.  Very small chance of winning.  Tonight shows over a billion dollars.  I just have to pay my stupid tax.  Feel bad later about the waste.  My waist is another thing.

In my mind I have so many things I'd like to do with that money.  Scholarships to college.  Setup a company to disperse money out to certain high school bands who are always a bit behind the 8 ball, cash wise.  Gifts to certain lovely people I know.  The list is too long for here.  All of my family would become millionaires - not just my kids but nieces and nephew and brothers and who knows.  There are certain charities and religious groups who need my help.  I really "believe-In" places like the Methodist Children's Home in Waco and Boy's Ranch near Amarillo - gift to a past church choir -  the wife would never clean house again, Heck!! we could afford our own chef --

I've always wanted to open a museum of my junkie, worthless stuff.  Y'know, stuff nobody wants to see like my post card collection and stamps.  None have real value.

I bet in just this area, there are a hundred old guys with a worthless collection who are wondering what will happen to their collection of wickets after they die.  That's probably a waste of money.  So I babble.

I bet one of my few readers could come up with a million dollar project.  Perhaps, I could give $5000 to anyone who reads my blogs and actually leaves a comment.  

THAT is a rare commodity.

I close.  Time to go pay my tax and buy a big gulp.  The sun will come up, tomorrow, once again starting it all over again and again.

mmtz

Go paperless today!

 

How many of these do you get or have you already gone paperless?  Not me.

I have a few accounts that are paperless because it pleases me, not "thee oh mighty corporation."  

Aside:  I do believe in free market and making money.  I'd just prefer to keep mine a bit longer.

I love it when they say that I will save time by not getting something in the mail. They are right.  I won't have to open the envelope.  all I have to do is open a website, remember the password, get the amount, decide if I need a copy for my records, print it here and file.

Got one yesterday which said that if I go paperless, I would have more time to enjoy Summer Fun.  Yep.  Summer Fun.  It has been over 100 for a couple of weeks.  Whar's the Fun?  {with apologies to the Whar's the Beef lady }.

Paperless helps the company.  It does not help me.  I file all receipts for later tax purposes.  How many times have I had to dig through the files to find a receipt so I could check what the company says?   How many times?  If I have to print the receipt, who pays for the paper and the ink?  Less Summer Fun.

This is blubbering.  I'll stop.

Tomorrow:  rant about the local water company and my bank - or have I already done that?  Question:  if we are having a water shortage, what are they doing now so we won't have the problem next year?  Whine.

Lots of question marks in this report today.

smile

m

I need a drink - squawk

 SQUAWK =  CHIRP     = TWITTER (but not the internet)

Sometimes I don't remember what I write about - (poor English sentence structure)

So, Sooosss, I sits here at the machine looking out the window to my side.  Nothing is stirring other than an occasional working pickup truck whizzing by.  The sun is going west while my window faces east.  Sitting here with my CEFCO big gulp in my right hand looking out the window.

A bird flies by and lands in the shade outside my window.  Interesting.  He's a nice little bird - some dark color.  Could be a boy bird or a girl bird.  That has been hard for me to tell  most times.  The really pretty birds are boys - strutting about to show off for his gal.  This bird was dark.  I spoke through the window at him.  He didn't care or hear.  The big air conditioner is roaring out there.

The widdle birdy walks across the yard.  I figure he's looking for a juicy bug.  Who wouldn't be?  A nice juicy bug on a hot July afternoon lounging in the shaded grass.  That's the life of Riley.  I watch him strutt through the bermuda.  He goes over to the air conditioner - really?

My A.C. - as does yours - has a white plastic pipe coming down from the attic unit.  AC works by pulling humidity out of the air and funneling it outside into the yard.  With that bit of knowledge planted, look at my little bird.

He walks over to the white pipe and sticks his beak under it - yes, he is getting a drink of water.  Is this a smart bird?  Or do all birds know this trick?  I watched him for some time until he flew the coup.  What-do-ya-know-Joe?  I marveled.  Then, another bird landed in the grass.  This time it is a big ole black bird.  Same trick.  I marveled.

Over the past week or so, I continued to be fascinated by my parade of birds.  All sipping nectar from a dripping A.C. conveyor pipe.  I had an idea.

Out in the shed I found a small bowl - left over from somewhere - cereal bowl - or perhaps once it held mashed potatoes on a Sunday afternoon.  I don't remember.  I placed the bowl under the end of the pipe.  Within moments it began to fill with cool water - well, as cool as water can be under the circumstances.

Now I have a continual flight of birds - small, large, in between.  No Eagles yet.  They not only drink, they bathe, they stand in the water and wash food, they sip and slurp.  Why haven't I thought of this before?  FYI: some stand on the edge of the bowl and put their beaks in the water - sidewise.  I suppose they can't suck in water so they trap it inside the beak.   

I enjoy this show.

Join me - find a dish and join the sloshing.  Who knows, maybe a passing rabbit or dog or elephant will make a short stop.  I'm waiting.

Mike #3

water blues

 

good title.  water blues. debated typing "water bluz."  "Is it too subtle," I said to myself.  Note the color of this print.  too subtle?

My house has a strange quirk.  When you turn on the water hose, you hear this high pitched sound throughout the house.  On the good side, the noise helps me remember to shut off the spigots.  Really strange - not a hammering that you often hear in older homes, but  a high pitch sorta moan.  Oh well.

I am assuming that it is caused by small pipes and too much water pressure.  Am NOT going to tear out all my pipes and redo the whole house.  "Live with it," I say.

=============

I stay up fairly late messin' with the computer and watching TV by myself.  Nothing is ever accomplished.  It is what I do & have done since I could choose my own bedtime.  In my younger teaching days, I'd stay up watching Johnny Carson while I typed and prepared for the next school day.  It is what I did...and do.

Thus, being retired, my preference is to sleep late - maybe 9 or 9:30.  What else is there to do?

This morning at - say - 6:35 or so - my wife rolled out and went into the bathroom.  Don't know why that woke me up.  I looked at clock and turned back over.  (Remember I am close to deaf without hearing aids - I don't hear everything.)

As I started to doze, I heard the fan in the bathroom turn on.  That's something since I rarely hear the fan running when I am standing in there.  A minute or so later, the wife walks out of the room and asks what that noise is.  That Noise Is?  I rolled my eyes still hidden behind the sleeping eyelids.  Huh? Oh?  What? Sure?  Do what?

The fear hit me.  What is that noise?  Oh no, the Air Conditioner motor is going out.  Boy it is loud.  I squirreled out of bed, put on the house shoes, and shuffled blindly into the bathroom.  It wasn't the fan.  The noise got louder as I neared the water closet  ( a cute name for the toilet hidden behind a door ).  I know, some neighbor must be  running a big machine outside.  It sounded like an enormous compressor - a machine grinding away at space...The fear continued.  I looked at the ceiling.

The air cond unit runs down the middle of the house in the attic.  I moved towards the L.R. & made sure the A.C. was turned off.  It made no difference to the sound.  On to the other side of the house.  The sound diminished.  Why?   I was standing right under the A.C.  no sound.  Moving to the front door, the sound increased slightly.  I opened the front door and walked around to the outside A.C. unit.  Quiet and Still.  nothing there.  This makes no sense.  

A quick trip to the garage, pull down the ladder, and climb into the attic.  It was so quiet I could have paused for a relaxing nap.  So, it is not the A.C. -  ??? that was a question mark ???  Back to the bedroom, "wham bang" it was still crunching loudly along.  I don't understand.  one last thing.

I opened the back door.  Maybe a neighbor out back was running a pool cleaning service or helicopter landing pad.   Then, I saw it.

(at this point I should pause for a commercial.  since I have nothing to sell, we go on)

The spigot on the back of the house outside the bedroom window was spewing water,  It was where the water hose connected to the spigot - y'know, one of those government mandated attachments to keep water from going back into the house pipes.   Water spewing.  I trudged over and turned off the water faucet - the noise stopped.

We have a water hose attached which waters the garden if you turn on the timer and the faucet.  My daughter had turned it on as she went to work.  It should have shut off and BEEN QUIET.  It didn't.  I do not understand the pipes in this house. What a noise.

By now I am awake.  Going back to bed was an option; then, my wife said, "I can't find my phone."  I gave it up - look for a lengthy nap in the p.m. hours.

I wish you could have heard the noise.  I'm asking for all you profession, semi-professionals, and amateur plumbers to lend me your expertise.  Best plan?  Sell the house, and start over.  Maybe, don't water the garden at 6 a.m.

more later [or not],

m3  

Gonna ramble here

Since it has been about a month since I visited my blog/bloggy/blug/bluggy/blooper,  I figure it is about time to let you know I'm still alive - I'm Alive!

Sitting here looking out my window at the dying grass, my dog Sadie reclined in the door way - tail wagging - trying to get my attention...she has just been fed and is as contented as a small dog can be on a full stomach -- but the dying grass.  I don't know what to do.  Water company has put us all on class 3 restrictions, water once a week and turn off you front yard fountains ... don't have a fountain.  Instead I have a blow up Uncle Sam using electricity in celebration of the 4th.  There is probably a Level 3 electric restriction somewhere.

I water on Wednesday.  Today is Wednesday.  Forgot this morning.  will water tonight, which brings up another issue for me.

I got my water bill last week.  It showed that I had used 58,000 gallons of water.  58,000.  That is a big number.  Sure, I watered my lawn twice a week - it was only level 2 restrictions then.  Last year, I never used more than 28,000 even in the hottest weather.  

{ Aside: did ja know that the word hottest has 3 Ts?  I tried it with 2 Ts, but "spell check" reprimanded me.  So it is ==>  Hot Test not Hot Est.  I bet I'd have missed that one on my 6th grade spelling test. }

The water company came out & said I had a water leak.  I know where it is.  The Sprinkler System has a leak.  I did some tests around.  That's it.  So, if I run the sprinkler tonight, I will water the lawn - AND - I will water somewhere else with my water leak.  Can anyone, other than me, see the potential for an enormous sprinkler system fixit repair bill?  Didja know that stage 4 restrictions are BUCKET watering only.  That is a joy to look forward to.  

"Whar's mah bucket, Maw?"

====

Outside my window and down about 10 feet is our outside A.C. unit.  It hums and hums all day long.  As you know, the A.C. pulls moisture out of the air and drips it outside via a white pipe.  Now, lately I've notice birds flying down and landing outside my window - looking for bugs?  Nope.  They walk over to that white pipe and get a drink of water.  There is my outside water fountain.

====

I bought a propane tank for my outside grill.  We've lived here for 2 years without firing up the grill.  When we moved, nobody would transport the old tank here - guess there is a law about propane transportation.  $58 at our HEB Grocery store.  It was here for the 4th.  My daughter bought some steaks, veggies, and potatoes for a very nice feast.  There are leftovers if you're interested.

====

Little black bird with a white stripe on the side of his head walking south by my window - gonna guzzle my Stage 3 water supply.

Here's a bit of a medical thing.  You know that I am old:  82 and a half.  My wife is now 82 and three quarters.  Yes, she is older than I.  She's had a bit of a problem moving around.  Fear of falling is almost as bad as actually hitting the ground. {and we learn that hitting is really HIT  TING not Hit  Ing. It is good to learn new things.}  She has signed up for some physical therapy.  They give her exercises.  I do them with her.  Some days I cannot believe how good a person that I yam.   Up-down-up-down 10 times.  Loving it.

====

I miss going to the Canton Flea Market (1st Mondays).  The distance from here is too far for just one day of looking.  There is nothing I need to buy.  There is nothing for my cash supply to liberate.  Maybe I need a new purple martin house.  I miss going to their dog town and looking at the puppies. Everyone tells me that I don't need another puppy.  What do they know?  I'd love to have another female wire-hair dachshund to go with me until I am gone.

====

To finish this up, a little political comment:

WHAT  ARE  YOU THINKING ????  MORONS !!!!

Love,

m3

Hot in Salado

 H

    O

          T

              

IN

T

   E

        X

             A

                  S

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

Reminds me of a poem that a really smart person said I could recite to my students during band class.  He never explained why I should.  I'm thinkin' he was coveting my job.  I could be wrong.  Rarely am I.  

POEM BY WHO KNOWS - Probably was stolen from the Milton Berle show.

##########################################################

Spring has sprung.

Fall has fell.

Summer's comin'.

and it's Hot as ......

well ya'know, it's gonna get really hot.

They're already talking heat index and "feel's like" temperatures.

And during all this heat, some guy or gal will come running by my house in shorts and a tank top sweating and dripping...happy he is getting into shape by suffering.  And a holier than thou smile hiding the grimaces.

No pain, No gain.  I heard that throughout high school and college.  

They are wrong.  I have chosen not to have that pain - and I certainly have gained.  So there.

My Fair Lady =>  Mad dogs and Englishmen come out in the midday sun.

I'm neither.

$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$

I'm wonderin'  -- when it's 100 degrees in Texas ... go south into Mexico - let's say Cancun - is it not 100 degrees in Cancun too?  They're on the water, so we know they are not at a higher altitude.  Maybe it is attitude?  The Bahamas - or any other tropical paradise - surely they are as hot as Texas.  Surely.  I bet I could find that online.  Suppose I'd have to be motivated to look.

later,

m   (94 degrees right now in Salado)

Pot Pouring (potpourri)

Potpourri - according to Wikipedia - no wait, who cares?  look it up yourself.    Even though this may have an aroma, it is just words on the page.  On my phone they list the Wikipedia explanation followed by an Amazon adv. for poo-pourri .... that would be toilet spray.  But my favorite addition from my phone are the potential alternate words:  melange, pastiche, hodgepodge, mishmash, patchwork.  

That is what this is.

#1  tear jerker sorta:  Local Salado Village Voice (you should get a subscription) has an article about a 99 yr old guy named Carl Reid.  He lives in a veterans hospital in Big Spring, TX.  He was in World War II as an 18 year old.  When asked what he wanted for his birthday, he said, "I want 100 birthday cards."  Actually, the article just says "cards."  I assume they mean birthday cards.  If he wants a deck of cards (that's 52 cards + jokers), he only needs 2 decks to reach his goal.

I have my card selected, stamped, and signed.  It goes out tomorrow.  What?  the cost of a stamp and a cheap card?  Make an old man happy.  address is:

Mr. Carl Reid     

Re:  100 for 100

c/o Lamun-Lusk-Sanchez Texas State Veterans Home

1809 N. Hwy 87    Big Spring, TX 79720

it is a nice thing to do.    When I reach 100, send me cash.

_________________________

#2  I've noticed as I age that Gravity is becoming a bigger and bigger part of my life.  I suppose it was there when I was younger, but who paid attention?  Today, getting dressed, I dropped a sock three times.  This is not so serious.  Yet, I had to bend over three times to pick it up.   Not long after, I got this pill out of its RX plastic container.  I laid it on top of my metal drinking cup which has a lid and a straw.

I fumbled around & hit the cup.  The stupid pill got right up and rolled down the straw hole into the liquid.  This might not be so bad except the pill was my wife's prescription.  I didn't need it at all.  All was poured down the drain, and I started again.  Gravity took the ice and liquid down the drain.

Gravity rules my life.  My stomach is affected too.  Without gravity I might look like the "old" Arnold Swartzenneiger  - I was right.  His name went straight to spell check as wrong.  doesn't matter.  you know who I mean.  The OLD Arnold from years past.  

People are paying millions of dollars to fly into space and experience no gravity.  Well, that is the "GRAVITY" of the situation.  I could give you numerous examples.  Bet you have your own.  Is it best to have gravity?  or is the moon a better place to be with less?  Your decision.   I am (ready?)  DROPPING the subject right now.

--------------------------------------

#3 The final nonsense.  Reading Heloise's column in the Temple Paper, someone wrote in about getting hot toast out of the toaster.  Well, yeah, that is a thing.   I usually use a fork or a knife.  Their instructions say, "No, don't use a fork or a knife."  I dood it anyway.  Maybe I'll be electrocuted and my family can sue the toaster company for riches.  If you can sue McDonald's for hot coffee or chicken nuggets, why not the toaster folks?

Back to Heloise.  The writer told of giving her friend a set of toaster tongs.  Have you ever heard of anything like that?  toaster tongs!  surely not.  Off to Amazon.Com.  type in toaster tongs.   Hundreds of toaster tongs came up.  Where have I been all these years.  Bamboo ones,  plastic ones, ones with cute fingers, others with a magnet, red, blue, green, you name it.  toaster tongs.

I look around the kitchen and found that I own several toaster tongs that are presented in the advertisement.  I chose a red one to match our red toaster.  It works.  This all happened on Tuesday.  Forever in my house Tuesdays will be known as:

TOASTER TONG TUESDAYS!!

Complete your life now.  Get a pair today.  I have; and, my life is better for it.

----------------------------

#4  Medical.  For those who keep up.  Gave a jar of blood yesterday for testing.  My PSA is still below .01     they call it <.01    I suppose I will live a little bit longer now.

love ya

m

I'm sad

 Short.

Went out back with dogs.  I looked at garden.  Big dog was by the fence barking at neighbor.  I went over and shushed her.

As I walked back, a bird flittered by me and landed on a fence.  It was a baby learning to fly..

I thought I could get passed it without causing panic.  I was wrong.

It tried to fly away from me landing in the grass 20+ yards away.

My dog Sadie ran and grabbed it.  Dead in less than a second.   A male red winged blackbird was flying in and out of the encounter.  Sadie killed a baby bird.  I'm sad.  Nothing to do now.

Misc report - disasters and otherwise

June 1st - year 2023 - nice day - sun shining - sprinkler system worked this morning with no problems - 3 dogs in residence today - #1 child working today - wife watching TV and coloring - I'm taking care of business online and other places because it is the 1st of the month.  Note:  today starts Pride Month.  Worthless events highlighted by the press as wonderful.  We move on.

We just returned from a flying trip (in the car) to Lubbock for my #3 and last grandgirl's high school graduation from Frenship High.   Nobody knows why it is spelled Frenship - just cause.  

It was a nice event running 635 or more students across the stage in about an hour.  No speaker other than H.S. Salut and Valdic - they were just fine.  Being somewhat deaf, I'm not sure what they projected for the future.  Both speeches got right to the point and included only a bit of remembering childhood.

We left Friday - attended a grad party of Sat. - grad was at 3 p.m. on Sunday.  Yes, Sunday.  They had it at the United Supermarket Spirit Arena - or whatever it is contractually named.  The Lubbock schools had the arena booked up on Thur/Fri/& Sat.  The place was full of screaming mommas and other relatives.  Since I got out of high school, I don't suppose I have held these Commencement Services in too high of regard.  Mine was important of course.  Theirs?  not so much obviously.

One of my bits is to send Graduation Cards in the mail.  I sent each of grandgirls cards.  The bit is to send more than one.  Each received maybe 10 cards spread out over 3-4 weeks.  Some were serious; most were dumb.

Since I taught 38 years, I attended 38 high school graduations, some better than others.  Some were like attending a circus - I particularly remember Tascosa H.S. in Amarillo as close to riots.  Tascosa had recently (3 or 4 years earlier) gone through a court case in which the name Rebels was removed by the court.  They were no longer the Tascosa Rebels and by court order, the rebel flag could not be flown AND Dixie could not be played as the fight song. Thus, locals who were irritated would bring rebel flags and whistle Dixie - so forth.

Aside: the administration with student help picked a new mascot -  The Rebel Kid.  Drawn as a cowboy with a gun.  So, they were still the Rebels, weren't they?

At graduation one year I was there, someone figured out how to get into the rafters of the Amarillo civic center.  They installed a garage door opener.  At the appropriate time, the opener worked pulling out a large Rebel flag and a tape player blaster out Dixie from the ceiling.   I wonder what that cost. How did they find the electricity up that high.  It was effective to a degree.  The students loved it and the Administration was duly embarrassed.  Tascosa was always a circus.

But, enough of that.  We enjoyed the Lubbock trip while we were there.  The 300 mile drive each way is another story.

--------------

On Tues. before we left, my wife was at the front door watering out inside plants.  She has her little watering can - bends over a bit and sprinkles.  Something went wrong - perhaps a dog running through or ? who knows.  She got top heavy and went down.  Nothing serious.  Nobody even knew it except her.   A few moments later, Christine walked through the room and saw blood all over BJ's white shirt.  My wife was unaware that she was cut.

I was called back inside.  We looked.  There was a cut behind her ear and blood had squirted out.  By the time I arrived, it was not bleeding - surface cut.  

After a bit of dabbing and attempting to clean, the shirt was changed - a call was made to local Baylor Scoot & White clinic (4 p.m. plus) - and a quick trip was made to the doctor's.  No doctors were there at 4 p.m. of course on this Tuesday.  A nurse practitioner or maybe just a nurse gave aid.  I stayed in the waiting room while the 2 girls went to the back.  I don't care to watch blood.

BSW was fantastic.  2 stitches went in and cleaning took place.  It was a good experience considering. $5 Copay.  Of course I may get a bill later for $5 million.   Yesterday, out came the stitches.  Another fine experience, considering.   no copay this time.

Life is full of these little dramas.   We have a theory that she bumped the side of her head slightly against the corner of the piano bench just enough to tear the skin.  

-----------------------

another event perhaps worth reciting:  while in Lubbock we completed our doctor papers  - the ones where you give someone else the right to decide your medical fate.  A friend of the family came over and did the notary work. Papers have been signed and posted.  Another joy-of-living taken care of...

more later if there be a later,

M3

p.s. not proof reading this.  You correct errors for me.

Mr. Charisma

Better stand back - I am loose on the world.

But First.
We all know that if you read something - anything - on the internet, it must be true.  Nobody ever posts anything that is not factual.  There is a close correlation to reading the horoscopes in a local  newspaper.  Horoscopes focus completely on me - just me.

Horoscopes are  composed by individuals who have an insight.  They must have.  Why would the paper publish an article that was not factual  (think fake news)?  Another Factual (making the word factual into a noun) are those little bits of paper you get at Chinese restaurants - yes, fortune cookies.  I've never read one ( or won, if you prefer  ) that wasn't true.

[I would have used the word inciteful here - but my computer says my spelling is wrong.  No alternate spelling is provided to me.  Let's try:  incitefull    nope, doesn't work either.  insightfull   incitful  ensitefull   Nope.  Give it up.]

Back to the horoscopes:   Mine today, Scorpio,  reads,  

"Your water-sign nature is supercharged today and will bring a wave of fun, a spritz of playfulness and a splash of drama to your day.  Who do you most want to influence?  Focus there because your charisma is on 10."

This brings up a few questions.   (1.)  what is a water-sign nature?  That's new to me.  It seems to provide a fluid way of describing the future day.    (2.)  "wave of fun"  How true.  If there were ever a way to describe me - it would be "wave of fun."     (3.)  "spritz of playfulness"   Surely they jest.    (4.)  Drama?  I have spent most of my life trying to dodge drama.  If you have ever taught middle school or high school girls, you know drama.    (4.)  Finally:  me want to influence someone?  I've had a long hard thought about this.  Influence.  the President?  The V.P.?   My banker?  The food industry who has found a way to double the cost of everything.  The boss of Coca-Cola should be horse whipped for doubling the cost of cokes in 12 months.  I could list other foods ... so could you.  I'll probably be arrested for making a terrorist threat against the CEO of Coke.  

Maybe my efforts should go towards influencing that frog who lives near my back porch.  It loves to lounge in the dog's water dish at night.  The dogs don't seem to care.  We call it frog water.  Might be tasty.  Who knows?  Good Frog.

Lastly, and more important----ly,   Charisma.  That is me.  Mr. Charisma.  Wherever I go, I light up the room with my charisma.  Yep, bubbling personality.  There is a word you don't write often.  bubbling.  Charisma -  Mr. Charisma - gads, did this horoscope peg me right on the button?  Of course they did.  I'm going out in the front yard right now and wave at everybody that comes by.  I may pull a few over and ask how their day is going - how's your mom - read any good books - where did you buy those good looking shoes -  because I am so interested in others.   

Mr. Charisma - shine on!

  

  

20 min. till EAT

5 P.M.  Everyday at 5 p.m.  I say the magical word "EAT."

3 dogs lift their ears and run to the kitchen.  We eat at 5.  Rain or Shine (unless I happen to forget or I am in another location or... y'know).

2 little dogs get a scoop of dry food  - big girl gets 3 scoops.

Then a squirt of salmon oil - I don't know why - the daughter thinks it is a good idea.

Finally, each gets a big tablespoon of wet food from a can.  Stir and Present.   I am a hero.

Many days all 3 circle me and stare starting about 4.  They cannot tell time, but they know.

That's it.

Morning feeding is done by the daughter.

Perhaps, if we were all fed twice a day one cup of dry food, a splash of salmon oil, and a tablespoon of wet food - just perhaps - we might all lose weight.  I'm not sure about that though.

------------------

After several days of rain, I mowed the yard.  up and down, this way and that.  The mower followed my commands dutifully.  Since my daughter wants the yard to be a mecca of plants, mowing is a challenge.  You must circle everything.  It is doable though.  Tomorrow, or the next, it will be weed eating time to clean up the yard.

While mowing in the front, a golf cart whizzed by - stopped up the street - and came back to where I toiled.  I shut down the John Deere to hear:   "What did you do with your Marauder?"

I am not complaining.  It happens all the time.  People love my 2003 Mercury Marauder.  Since we've been having storms, I stored it inside our shed out of the weather.  It is amazing to me how many people want to buy that car or just talk about it.  Ebay sells them for $14,000.  No, let's change that - they offer them for $14,000.   I cannot afford to sell it.  The Marauder is my backup car if the Flex ever gets sick.  You can't sell your second car for $14K if it costs you $40K to replace it - especially if it happens to be a classic.

None of my children want the Marauder when I croak.  I don't understand it.

6 minutes to EAT TIME...  I love my Marauder.  I wish it had a better radio and the AC worked.  It died last summer.   Maybe, soon, maybe I'll get the AC fixed and have a good radio installed.  That would be nice.  Still, with 167,000 miles on it -it is not really a daily drive.

close

feed

later

m

Mum's Day

I had a mother.

My mother had a mother.

My grandmother had a mother.

And, she had a mother.

This could go on for several pages.

It is something I have never thought about until I started doing the 23 & Me / Ancestry dot com.

How many mothers have their been before "I had a mother?"

Now figure this out.  A mother didn't appear out of nowhere (depending upon your belief system with Adam and Eve).  Science has shown we evolved down to where we are.  According to 23 & Me, I have some Neanderthal in my background - so does my wife.  So Homo Sapiens and Neanderthals messed around together - or they were fighting and doing all that sorta thing victorious victors (cute) do after they conquer another group of the less-victorious.  I realize, none of this need be said.  If you, the reader, have half a brain, you knew this merely by watching certain shows on TV.

But way back there, you had a pre-mother.   She was either a Homo Sapiens having a Neanderthals kid, or a Neanderthal lady having a Homo Sapiens' kid.  That is how it works.

Reading in my Archaeology magazine, I read where they found a Neanderthal's cave in which the "N(s)" were cooking their own vegetables in pots.  They dated it to over 3500 years ago.  Really.  3500 years ago.  I don't know if it is more impressive that they had pots and cooked 3500 years ago  - or - it is more impressive that someone figured out how to measure the time.  Or was it 35,000 years ago?  That may be it.  I need to re-read the article.   I really think 35000 is a more correct number.

----

In my own family, my parents were born in 1910.  I appeared in 1940.  My youngest was born in 1970.  I'm thinking he had a child about 2000.  This shows to be 3 generations in 100 years.  Sure, several years back, people married when they were about 13 to 15 years old giving their people about 5 generations per hundred years. Now - figure - 5 generations in 100 yrs.  That would be 50 generations in 1000 years.  That number may be a bit high.   So multiply 50 times 3500 years =  175,000 ancestors -- or 175,000 mothers.

Even if I am off several thousand mothers in 3500 years - folks, that is a lot of moms who were born, matured, married ( or attacked ), and bred a female who - - you got it.  Those moms had to live, eat, have kids, and survive long enough to create another cycle.  Mind boggling to me.

What if that number were 35,000 years ago.

Some were lucky enough to survive the pimples, plaque, measles, mumps, COVID, etc.

AND   HERE   YOU   ARE.         ANOTHER CYCLE RUNNING.

-----

Related, but unrelated:  If the Heaven thing works like they say, we'll all be together once again.  You walk through the gates to greet your mother once again - And, standing behind her, as my daughter Christine commented, behind her in a line -----  175,000 grandmothers waiting to greet you - each one tweaking your cheek and commenting upon your cuteness.   175,000 hugs going through the gate.

As a side note:  that would be several thousand grand uncles ready to rub your head and no telling how many grandfathers spitting tobacco juice.  Probably many of the grandfathers didn't make it through the gates since they were off pillaging and messing with Neanderthal females.  There are rules about getting through the Heavenly gates you know.

We move on.

Happy Mother's Day to my wife.  Today, we cook meatloaf for lunch - her favorite.

And a Happy Mother's Day to my mom, Sara Leanna Smith Metze - waiting in that long line beyond the gates.  

I would be remiss to not mention my wife's mother Josephine Macha Cooper - one of the finest cooks, baker, housewife, and mom -- 

later,

M3  

done

 short & sweet.

mailed my taxes off today at 4:15

done

No return -rant

 Once again I have found a restaurant that will not see my return.

We stopped at the Sirloin Stockade in Round Rock on Monday.  We have eaten here many times.

Not anymore.

It has nothing to do with food.  The workers were excellent.  The girl taking my money was smiling and happy to see us - it seemed.  Our waiter was right there for us.  One cook worker took time to show me hidden restroom...with a smile.  The guy cooking steaks, I think, was more interested in getting a tip in his jar than being functional.  None of this was a problem.  Wait.  Maybe the lack of chocolate cake for my wife might be an influence.  

The problem is the price.  A cheap buffet type place should not cost almost $40 to eat.  That is way over the top.  We use to eat in one in Corsicana before the Flu bug hit.  The price was quite reasonable.  But, now, $20 each.  This is outrageous for a simple buffet.  And that price was with the Senior discount.

I still go to the Golden Corral - but never go on the weekend.   These places serve canned green beans, canned corn, canned everything.  The fried okra was done 3 hours ago and is mushy.  The fried fish is okay albeit sometimes a big grease laden.  Pies and so forth are okay except I am diabetic.  Whatever happened to the sugar free cookies and ....

No sense going on.  

I suppose the problem is the costs that have gone up when there was a perceived shortage - supply problems.  That has ended.  Did the cost come down?

2 years ago, I could buy 2 liter Coke products on special for $1.  Now Cokes are up to $2.50.  Why.  I know, the water to make cokes has increased or the bottle caps or the plastic bottles.  Nope.  None of that.  It is just greed.

winter bluz

I'm tired of cold weather.  I am as tired of cold weather as I was last summer when I was tired of hot weather.  We did not have spring last year.  We did not have fall last year.  THUS - I'm tired of not having spring and fall.  I'm tired of other things too.

If that  paragraph was not profound, what is?

Our garden is taking shape; or, it was taking shape until the temperature dipped to 30 degrees last night.  What is with this?  I live in Texas.  It is not suppose to get this cold right now.  Now, don't go arguing with me about our average freeze date.  Intelligent arguments have no place here.

I have a house full of tomato and pepper plants and Black Diamond watermelon plants waiting on warmer weather.  Our peas and beans have sprouted outside.  We even have a carrot or two plus radishes growing.  May have to start over.  I'm ticked off.

==============================================

Think I'm gonna go sit in the corner and eat worms.

m

Hot Stuff

 Friday - March 17th - St. Patrick's Day,  2023

What you just read has nothing to do with this entry.  However, it is safe to note that the above is accurate.  Not everything you read is true y'know.  I was shown something on Facebook a while go, it wasn't true.  Thus, we should make some type of an assumption.

=================================================================

DIDJA KNOW:

that a bottle of Frank's { Extra Hot } REDHOT Sauce will bounce off a concrete floor.  It will.` Yes, it will bounce one time if it hits flat on its side.  If you are quick enough, you might catch that bouncing bottle on that first bounce.   If you're not?  It will break on the 2nd bounce.  To be honest here [like I am never honest here??] - the bottle doesn't bounce very high - maybe 4 to 6 inches.  But, bounce it will.   Wait - but not twice...

Told you this is hot stuff.

The first sentence should have read Frank's Redhot, Extra Hot, Hot Sauce.  That is a lot of hots in one sentence.  Hot Stuff.  As Advertised.

Personally, I have always been a Tabasco Man.  Tabasco goes on most stuff.  I became somewhat addicted to Tabasco back in the 70s when my family was running Ragtime in Amarillo (this adventure shall be saved for a different bloggy).  At that time I ate what we had on the menu - lunch & dinner.  I became particularly fond of Tabasco on tater tots.  Don't knock it till you've tried it.  There have been bottles of hot sauce in my house constantly since childhood.  Tabasco has even traveled with me over the years.  I do like it.

Last week, reading my morning paper as I do religiously on a regular basis frequently in the morning oft times, I read an article about a Chinese guy who came to the USA via Hong Kong several years back.  He carried $20,000 in gold hidden in condensed milk cans.  Now, don't go asking me questions about how he did this.  

I cannot imagine: open a can - insert gold - tape the lid back on with duck tape ??  You figure it out.  I shan't recite the entire article right now - you can look it up somewhere. This Chinese brilliant man came to the USA.  He moved to N.Y.  Then, he moved to Calif.

In California he took some gold and bought a big building.  He started making his Sriracha Hot Sauce.  It took a while, but the sauce caught on.  Now it is the 3rd best selling sauce in the U.S.      -- 2nd best is Frank's.  Of course, Tabasco is #1.   The guy, whose name escapes me, became a billionaire with his sauce.  Good for Him.  Maybe Huy Fong ??

It made me thunk....think.   I need to try these sauces again.  Might be good.

jump forward

Went to an HEB grocery store in Round Rock Wednesday to pick up a few things.  I saw Frank's on a shelf.  I reached over an removed a jar.  But, it said  EXTRA HOT.  Nah, for my first time in a long time, I should take home the milder.  I put the jar back and - yep - brushed another one with my arm.  It flew off the shelf like it had a mission to complete.

Straight for the floor it fell, landing on it's side.   I grabbed for it.  I had time to see it bounce and sink back down.  Wham.  Hot sauce went everywhere.  My hand was just a foot off the floor.  Too Late.  I froze.  Who saw me?  Panic and Run?  What to do?

Behind me a 30-40 year old dark haired lady yelled (almost yelled) at me to not touch a thing.  She would go get help.  I had no intention of touching anything.  It was a broken jar surrounded by smelly red hot sauce.  Taking out my handkerchief, I blotted the hot sauce from my paws.  I stood and cautioned people to be careful.  The really nice lady returned with a worker.  I smiled weakly - apologized as best I could - thanked all for helping - grabbed another bottle of hot sauce - and walked fast.  

Let me pause the narration here.  I am old.  She was middle age.  Did she respond to me so quickly because I look old and feeble?  Was she afraid this really old guy might try to clean up the mess?  Or - and I hope this is it - or, was she just a nice lady who would have reacted the same way to a much younger, less feeble looking person?  Getting old is not always easy.  Being young wasn't much easier at times.  We all do stupid things.

That's it.  I ended up with an EXTRA HOT bottle of the sauce, which has turned out to be somewhat mild.  Hours later at home I discovered that my left shoe was covered in dry hot sauce.  I had spent the rest of that day showing my hot sauce adventure to the remainder of the world, ONE STEP AT A TIME.  Never Noticed. Not Once.  If it had been a snake, it would have bitten me.

Ethically, should I send HEB a check for the broken hot sauce?  I do feel guilty.

or not.

mtz3