Blog Block

In reading through some of the blogs I follow, I came upon a phrase appropriate for today.  Blog Block, or blog burnout or something to that affect.  I never thought it would happen to me, I seem always to have something to write about, even if it is of no interest to anyone but me.  Maybe that's my problem(?)  I enjoy reading the goings on in others life so I find myself needing to work on my dull life.  Nothing worth sharing seems to jump out at me.

After my fall a couple weeks ago, I am ready to consult an orthopedic Dr. for my injured knee.  The egg went down a little, but not enough  - and it sure is sore to the extent I can't find a place for it to rest at night.  My front teeth are sore, so I'm going to the Dentist tomorrow to have them looked at.  Don't want to have injured the roots and learn to late to do anything about it. 

I mentioned my wonderful garden a few months back.  You may be interested to know, The squash are still blooming, but I have never been able to get one, uno, nada, nothing off the vines.  I did enjoy 2 tomatoes, and two banana peppers, however the green beans ran and twisted themselves all around the poles, but never bloomed once.    I hesitate to admit I grew up on the farm where a garden, harvesting that garden, and canning the fruit of the vine was a way of life.  So I do not know what (if anything) I did wrong. 

I feel better knowing others in the neighborhood finally gave up and pulled their vines/plants up - thus giving up.  I guess that should be my next step.  I sure hate throwing in the towel of surrender without knowing what went wrong.  I'm doomed to repeat it next year.

Anyway, have a good week and be blessed.

Grammyof14

Book Signing

At last I started my book tour with a book signing in Mississippi, our home church.  Not having anything to compare it with, I will declare it a success.  Success in that I did sell quiet a few books, but more importantly I got to visit with old and new friends.  The young pastor, whom I've never met, had me to speak for him on Sunday morning.  I don't do much public speaking anymore, but I was comfortable enough and did my best.

My dear long time friend Mary Green spearheaded the day for me and the success is largely due to her hard work in getting the word out. 

Also as there was no one locally who could go with me, I drove through Memphis and picked up another long time friend to go with me. Ramelle Baker and I go back to the mid 1960s and even though we hardly see each other anymore, it has not lessened our friendship.   It was one of the greatest/best decisions I have made in a long time.  It was God's intention that she go with me.  And that is GOOD!

Last week on Tuesday, I was on my way to my cardiologist for a six months checkup, when I arrived at the building, walked inside the double doors and fell flat on my fact.  You read that right.  There was a 5x7 rubber mat with carpet inlaid on top, that was curled up slightly and my right foot went under the rug.  It was the fastest fall I have ever had - my nose has a hairline fracture, it left a gash on my nose, my sun glasses were jambed into my eyes, my mouth is black (my would be smile!!) and my front teeth are sore.

I wanted to back out going for the book signing, but each day I looked a little better and was able to cover up the red eyes and swollen cheeks and nose with make up.  However the upper lip that lay over my lower lip was impossible to hide.  It was as black as a young man's mustache and make up only served to make it shine more black it seemed.  I decided to make a joke out of it being spousal abuse, but knew these people know my husband and because of his gentle spirit they would know immediately it was a lie - so I just told them the truth.  There were sighs of sympathy but understanding.  I didn't have to go into a beauty contest so I felt better~~~!!!

My knees were another story.  I had knots the size of an extra large egg on both knees that are still very sore and I had to be helped on and off the platform.  My walking very far at a time is over until I can get therapy, so that is my tale of woe.  I think tales of woe are what I have lately for my blogs.  Bear with me things will get better in my world.  By the way, my knees are turning purple black.  Ugg.

I am looking forward to a book signing in Tennessee in early October, and one at the Maumelle library soon.  God is good.

Grammyof14

Maxine's Sister

While flipping channels this week, I came across one of those realism TV makeover shows. Mind you it is not my forte, but the woman who needed the makeover had her feet in concrete (so to speak) and wasn't budging on her choice for clothes, so it didn't take long to get hooked. I wondered how they were going to redeem this one.

She was a 30ish mother dressing like a stripper on vacation who didn't pack anything but her working clothes. Like me she did not have the shape or figure for her choice of clothing, and the shows staff had letters from her children begging her to dress like other mothers. "We are ashamed for our friends to meet you", they cried in protest. I think I'm pretty descriptive, but this time I fall short for words that would give you the picture of what I was observing.

I got interrupted and did not see the end of the show, and I don't remember what station I fell on, so I will never know who won!

HOWEVER, I went window shopping yesterday after I finished Cardiac Rehab for the week. Getting myself ready for a few book signings, I decided I would feel great about myself with a new outfit. Goodness knows I haven't shopped for myself in so long - well I will take that back and say I have shopped at consignment shops and have kept myself in some pretty clothes.

Nevertheless, I decided it was time for something new - out and out!

NOW, here is the problem. I should not have watched the makeover show. No, I don’t look anything like the “model”, but I’m beginning to wonder if I don’t look a tad like Maxine and a little outdated.

Everywhere I went there were plenty clothes in my size - however someone forgot to design dresses for the “fashionable elderly” (as I like to refer to myself). I was utterly shocked at the styles I observed in dress shops I once frequented. May I repeat, “Someone forgot about the fashionable elderly women who are a far cry from a floozy”. OK I said it. You read that right. I was beginning to act like the 30ish mother mentioned above. “I wouldn’t be caught dead in that outfit” I managed to keep my mouth shut and think it in my head!!

I left each store, entered another, and finally gave up and came home. It was then I realized I needed a friend indeed who would help me look like a fashionable elderly lady I think I am; for evidently I can’t lay claim to that as I am not in style with the styles. Better still, come with me to my closet, and let’s go through the years of clothes collection I have and determine what needs to go to Goodwill or the Salvation Army. Oh how I dread starting all over.

If the change gets too difficult, I just may accept I look like Maxine’s sister and let it go at that. In the meantime too, I’ll keep looking - hoping the next store has a buyer that is in her late 60’s or early 70’s who knows how to dress elderly women who still want to be fashionable.

Grammyof14



The little things can bring smiles.

It doesn't take much to entertain me these days.  It is the little things that bring me laughter that probably no one else would  notice but me.  And to add to that, it would probably not be humorous to anyone else but me either.

After Cardiac Rehab, which is a three day a week ritual, I stopped by Walgreen's.  They always have something I need, like Maxwell Coffee on sale this week, (which they were out of, of course).  No matter, I did find things I wasn't looking for but found I couldn't live without so my trip was not wasted.  One was a cooling mat to sleep on.  Oh my I can hardly wait to go to bed.  I hope it works like the box said it would.  It was marked down 75% off, so I think I'll get that much use out of it. 

I still have this malady of itching when my body gets warm.  Legs, feet, back or arms, so occasionally I get up during the night to bathe in cold water to cool my skin and hopefully dull the irritation.  I'll keep you posted as to whether or not my purchase is a dud or a God send miracle.

That was not my humorous moment however.  As they are re-arranging everything in the store, making it "better for the customers to find things" I was told.  I had to add "there are still a few folks like me who don't like change," to which he smiled and agreed it was not setting well with him either.  My theory is if I go to a "rummage" sale, than I go expecting to rummage - where otherwise I go with the intention of going to the counter that holds my item, retrieve it and move on out of the store.

So having to walk down/up each isle to see what was where, I saw a young man who appeared to be every bit of 13-14.  This day and time with me, everyone is young and he could very well have been 20, but his appearance (meaning his dress, his hair style, his choice of ear-ring) made me think he was in his early teens.  I really can't tell you why it struck my funny bone that he was opening bottles of men's cologne and after shave and taking a big whiff - but it did.  I could visualize him thinking of a big date - or knocking the girls off their feet at school - or trying to feel grown up.  Nothing wrong with any of those things, but he was so intent on finding the right bottle of stuff, it struck me funny.

Like I say, it doesn't take much to make my day.  Loving kids like I do, I should have stopped and offered a grandmothers opinion - but that would have really gone over like a lead baloon.  You see, I know my limits - I saw him later with a women I figured was his mother.  I forgot to see if he had truly come up with a fragrance that fitted him.  He may have just been killing time while his mother looked for bargains.

Did I ever confess to you - I am a people watcher?  I love to come up with rediculous stories about people I see - sizing them up - making up a town for them, a make believe family and profession.  I laugh at my self  too - 

Grammyof14 

Burr Under My Saddle #6

Boy do I have a burr under my saddle, and you my friend have come to my rescue as you take time to read my aggravations.  You will notice they are few and far between, but occasionally I can get upset enough to spout off and get a few things off my chest, before I go reporting someone to the Attorney General, or whatever legislative body I need to report them to.

Case in point.  Today is the first (that I know of) for Arkansas to have a tax free day of shopping which will last until Sunday night at midnight.  I don't know of any school supply or anything else on the list  I need to rush out and purchase.  To stress a point, I know when the tax free day starts and when it ends.

V and I got out late yesterday afternoon to make a Walmart run.  I had about seven dollars worth of coupons, and since they were substantial enough that not even Kroger would double them, I decided that Walmart would be the best place to take advantage of my coupons.

We window shopped, and discussed items we may need the next time we go out, we walked the length of the store, got our items and went to the check out.  My total was $92 before coupons.  She scanned the coupons and my bill came up to $97.  something wrong with this picture.  I walked a few steps away to allow the one behind me to proceed with her basket full, to examine my receipt.  The tax had superseded my coupons, and the state tax she charged was 8.50%.

That is a far cry from the 1.5% the government website says they should charge.  I went from there to Kroger's and the total tax of a $72. bill was 2.07, which included state, local, and city. 

After getting home and fuming some more, gearing up to call the Dept. of F&A, it dawned on me that what I bought at Walmart was not all edible!  DUH.  It was shampoo, toothpaste, and very few items would have been groceries wherever I bought them.  However I saw no break even on those items.  I still wonder how if the scanners are coded to recognize the items I did purchase that were considered groceries. 

I still have my receipt.  When I think I've got energy enough to stand my ground, I may go after the manager of Walmart.  I wonder now just how many others have not changed their tactics of charging State tax on groceries.  That amounts to a few dollars each time.

I did not take advantage of the tax free day today.   I ran out of money yesterday at Walmart!!

Grammyof14

Have I lost my song?

After making a difficult decision this week, I've had to come to terms with a few things. I really don't feel up to par as I want to feel since January. I will admit there are days when I feel I can conquer the world, but it is usually short lived. I'm blaming the weather mostly; however I've also done some soul searching.

I didn't want to get here, and maybe "here" is not a place where I'll stop to stay. I almost feel I am becoming a recluse of sorts. Home is comfortable. I am safe here. The world is outside my door, and I don't have to answer unless the world comes calling. And it is my choice as to walking out that door is what I really want to do or not.

My insides wanted to scream and say no, to the vacation last month. "I don't want to take a long trip away from home." my emotions yelled. I'm so glad I did not say anything out loud and went on the much needed, much appreciated vacation after all. At one time I was afraid my husband would not get to go (for having to work) but when he learned he could get off the two weeks, the decision to take the trip was easier.

After going to the hospital during the 4th of July Holiday and being lost in communication, it has not made it easier to think about being away from home where my Doctors are across state lines and no one knows my history in a new situation.

"They" say I haven't completely healed as yet. Maybe that is true. There are days when my chest hurts as I breathe. There are nights when I lay down and my heart is racing and it is in an irregular pattern if only for an hour after laying down. There is only so much resting one can do, and as a rule after resting my heart settles down and all is well again.

I was told once a long time ago, "Don't ever lose your song!" He went on to say, "you have a song in your heart that blesses others, and it must never die or get lost to you."

I thought of that last night when I was doing too much thinking over the decision I had made not to take a trip to Tenn to visit with my Sisters. I wasn't sure I had made the right decision, and I was tearfully emotional about it.

Flipping channels as I do sometimes trying to find something to pay attention to, I stopped on VTN and watched the "Pensacola Christian College" program. From contemporary music to the old hymns special singers and then the choir sang the songs. I knew what they were singing, and found an alto part and began singing. It felt good to sing in harmony with other Christians who were singing with exuberance and Christian joy.

They finished that one, and started another equally as familiar. It took me several moments to realize I even had help from the chorus that was ringing out in my living room. Cricket (My 4 legged Pomeranian partner) was singing with me. The more I lifted my voice and sang, the more he lifted his head into the air with his howling song coming from his inner most being~~~ and we were doing our best to help the TV choir out!

Believe me I could not help but laugh, and now I'm not sure whether the singing was what lifted my spirits from the dumps to the rafters, or was it my helper?

Seriously though, we cannot afford to lose our song. Psalms 137 refers to the story of the Israelites in Babylon during the captivity. After years of depression they quit singing. Their merriment was long past and there was nothing to sing about.

Psa 137:1 There we sat down and cried—by the rivers of Babylon—as we remembered Zion.

Psa 137:2 On the willows there we hung our harps,

Psa 137:3 for it was there that our captors asked us for songs and our torturers demanded joy from us, "Sing us one of the songs about Zion!"

Psa 137:4 How are we to sing the song of the LORD on foreign soil?

Occasionally we find ourselves on foreign soil where everything is unfamiliar. My unfamiliar soil is my inept ability to make decisions to do things I would ordinarily do without hesitation. Where is the bondage for me? What has happened to my song? Why have I hung my harp on a willow (in my case - my piano sits silent) How long have I been in this strange land of indecision? And why cannot I sing the songs of the Lord?

One thing for sure, if I truly have been born with a song, it will return. I’m expecting things to change. I may get the piano tuned so Cricket and I can get more practice.

Grammyof14