"One of these days Alice. . . . ."

Have you ever had one of those days where a direct slap in the face would feel better than the stab in your heart? Well, I am having one of those days. Right. Now.
Actually, I have been "moody" sorta-kinda, all week. Don't bother trying to console me. I refuse consolation right now - I do however want to inflict pain on those that are creating the "pain" in my life.

Now, with that said and off my chest, all will be fine. I wouldn't really, intentionally "hurt" anyone. That isn't my nature. But, I can think it at times if it makes me feel a little bit better.

I know God says "as a man thinketh, so is he", but I fight the impulse to be continually spiteful at times like this in my life. I try to, instead, think more pleasant thoughts. But I don't always succeed. If that makes me horrible, well. . . . "as a man thinketh, so is he".

Yes, this makes my head hurt. And my heart. And my spirit.

I feel a little like Jackie Gleason: "One of these days Alice, kapow, right to the moon."

PS - Kelly, this is NOT directed at you.

Happy Birthday, Bekah! !

Happy Birthday to one of
my favorite gals!

I know you will have a wonderful
day. Enjoy your week in
Mexico - but don't drink the water!

Love ya bushels!
UB, AC, and Ben

(by the way - I love the pic you
sent for me to use - it is so . . . .
you!)

Mimosa or Formosa? That is the question!

I have been struggling with a "faux pas" of sorts since last night. I have been calling my neighbor's tree a "formosa tree" all along. I was quickly corrected by my scramping cronies (I love those gals!) that it is pronounced: MIMOSA. I stood corrected - last night. Today, however, I am standing "uncorrected", I think. I went to my reliable online sources: Google and Dictionary.com to find out the difference. This is what they told me.

So girls, here is the scoop:

Dictionary.com said:

Word Origin & History Formosa:
old name of Taiwan, given by Portuguese, from Port. Formosa insula "beautiful island," from fem. of L. formosus "beautiful."

mi·mo·sa  –noun (mi-moh-suh, -zuh)
1. any of numerous plants, shrubs, or trees belonging to the genus Mimosa, of the legume family, native to tropical or warm regions, having small flowers in globular heads or cylindrical spikes and often sensitive leaves.

Google question/answer: "What is a formosa tree?"

What is the difference between a mimosa tree and formosa tree?

They are one in the same.

This response on Yahoo came from someone named "Frosty" - I know what you're thinking - they had too much of the funny stuff when they were younger. But here's their take anyway:

"One of my father’s favorite trees was one he called a "Formosa," a tree I learned in college was correctly called Mimosa. In the arrogance only educated youth can possess, I assumed dad had mixed up the names in the war years of the 1940s when the Nationalist Chinese were taking refuge from Chairman Mao’s communists on "Formosa" - known today as Taiwan. Now I know that "Formosa" is the Portuguese word for "beautiful", and quite possibly this name was one of the colloquial names used for the tree we call Mimosa. "

So. . . . with all that being said, or written, or thought, I want to believe in my Formosa trees. I don't want to think the only thing that comes from Formosa is Formica! I AM Scarred.

Perhaps if I try really, really hard, I can merge the two? Whatcha' think? No? Hmm. . . .

Could you chew on it for a while, and get back to me?

Discuss it perhaps over dinner?

Maybe just humor me - yea, I think that one will work!

Case settled!

Whew, what a relief. Now I can rest at nights.

Did I mention I love those gals!

My Random Thoughts This Morning

It is going to be a HOT, very HOT day. The girls are already antsy and it's only 8:10am and school's only been out three, count them, three days now.

McDonalds is being targeted by some insane group stating that they are being "creepy and predatory" towards children, enticing them with their Happy Meals and the coveted toy inside. Says parents are being "nagged" by their kids to buy them. This "prestigious" group wants to ax Happy Meals. Um. . . .isn't that why parents take kids to Mickey D's anyway? To buy them Happy Meals? Is it not up to the parent to say "yes or no"? And. . . .where, exactly, does this leave "Cracker Jacks"? Just curious.

My kitchen is "coming along". Sloooooww and steady. Verrrry sloooow and sometimes not so steady.

I love summer. I love winter, spring and fall, too! Just sayin'.

Yes, I'm stalling. . . . . it's HOT outside and I have a date with Herbie. Herbie is my "pool boy". He is slow moving, but he is faithful. I don't have to worry about cheating and coveting here, nope, not with him. He has no concern that the "water may be bluer in someone else's pool". He is content just to sit on my deck all day long. And wait for me. To beckon him to his duties. To retire him back to "his happy place" when he is done. He is my friend - I shall (and did) call him Herbie.

Well the Indians are on a war path - no choice but to go now! TTFN

"Happy Birthday, Catie Bug!"

I love this picture of you - so I stole it from FB!
I hope you have a birthday as sweet as you are, my Catie Bug!

We all love you very much!
Love,
UB, AC and Ben

"Happy Birthday, Alicia!"

Happy Birthday to you!

You are such a bright, beautiful young lady and

we love you so very much!

Have a spectacular, splendid, super, sweet,

seventeenth birthday!

Love,

Pop-Pop, Mom-mom and Ben

"Happy Birthday, Rease!"

You have grown so much this past year! It's hard to believe you are nine already and will be going into the fourth grade!
We love you, smiley face!

Love,
Pop-pop, Mom-mom and Uncle Ben

"Dear Pop-pop"

When Bob returned home from his "walk-about" in KY Helena wrote him this note:

Translation:
Dear Pop-pop, XOX
I miss you all the time.
You are my best friend.
I miss you whenever.
Your Friend, Helena

Translation:

I am happy!

Have a happy day.

Enough said.

Susie and Pepsi

I was just reading a post on the PW blog. This woman makes me laugh. Plain and Simple. She mentioned something about her kidlings drinking half cans of soda left unguarded, I assume, by their owners. Of course this opened the flood gate to my memories as a child. One memory specifically jumped in the foreground of my brain.

My mom's sister, Sue, we called her Susie, was my favorite aunt of all times. I don't know what it was about her, but I could just "relate" to her. I could talk to her about anything.

She happened to be an avid Pepsi drinker. It was her morning coffee, her drink with breakfast, lunch and dinner. She drank it all day long. And, when she visited us, I got to walk to the store and buy her Pepsies for her. That was bc days (before cans). I always had to take the empties with me, because you got money for them. I know some of you young'ins would find that hard to believe, but we did. We even collected empties from around the neighborhood to turn in for penny candy. We were a resourceful lot, yes, we were.

Any how, back to my Aunt. She was always leaving her drinks sitting around, and of course, that just invited takers. Lickety split quick - because we would have gotten our tails whooped if we had gotten caught. As children we weren't allowed to have sodas very often, so we had to, there again, be resourceful.

AND I LOVED PEPSIES!

One particular day - no one was around. And there it sat. A Pepsi bottle with - oh - about two or so inches of Pepsi in it. I could NOT help myself. It called, very loudly, to me. I had to obey.
With one gigantic swig, down the Pepsi went.

Along with. . . . . . the cigarette butt that was in it. She, unfortunately, was a smoker too. And on that day chose to dispose of said butt in her unfinished drink.

Well, that cured me - johnny on the spot. I still think of that day when I drink Pepsi from a bottle - which is rare - since I rarely drink sodas anymore - and her - and how simple life seemed to be - and how complicated life seemed to be - and . . . . . never wanting to smoke - because it was gross, gross, gross!

Mr. and Mrs. Daniel Ayers

Sometimes. . . . there just aren't words.

"Hans Brinker"

Today I felt a little like Hans Brinker, the young Dutch boy who stuck his chubby little finger in a dyke to keep the dam from bursting through and flooding the town. The poor little fellow sat there all night, waiting, calling, waiting, and calling some more. No one heard him. Not until the next morning when a priest passed by did he get noticed. I can only imagine how afraid he was, but his determination to do what was right won over the fear.

Anyway. I didn't have to plug a dyke and I wasn't really fearful. I did, however, have to hold the palm of my hand against the return on our swimming pool. I was vacuuming - actually Herbie was vacuuming, I supervised - the pool before the girls got home this afternoon. I was informed this morning that they wanted to swim, so . . . have all supplies on deck - literally.

I turned the pump off so I could remove Herbie's hoses and put them away. For some unknown reason when I turned the pump back on, the return shot the hose off like a bullet, spewing water everywhere. Now to fix this the return had to be plugged and the filter closed. The pump is under the deck, so. .. . I was right there with it. I did manage to get the filter closed but I couldn't plug the return to stop the flow because that meant I would have to be ON the deck.

So there I stand, palm on the return, yelling for Ben.
Ben!
Ben Rease!
Benjamin!
Rease!
Beennnn!
Benjamin Rease!
BEEEENNNNNN!
REAAAAASE!!!!

I'm hot - I mean I'm HOT! I'm stooped over, my back is starting to ache. How many hours have I been here ? ? ? Pray tell! (it was only minutes I'm sure, but it sure did feel like hours)

Where is that boy? ? ?

If he's on that computer. . . . .

BEEEENNNNNNN! ! !

Then I hear "What do you want?! ! ! I was in the bathroom! Do you know how hard it is to go to the bathroom when someone is constantly yelling for you?"

(Well excuuuuse me)

After I explained my dilemma, he went in, got what we needed to repair the thing and all was right with the world - for that moment, anyway.

I think he thinks I did something wrong. Can you just imagine? Jeepers.

I often wonder, though, at times like that, if the neighbors hear all the commotion and if so,what do they think, exactly?

My "Happy Place"

This post was triggered by my niece, Jessie. She posted on FB a couple days ago that she had lost her "happy place". Could someone please give her directions so she could find it again. I totally understood her dilemma. I felt as though my "happy place" had been misplaced as well.

What, exactly, is a "happy place"? The best I can surmise is: it can be a person, place, smell, thought, idea, some one's voice, or a touch (sounds very much like a noun, doesn't it?) It can be all of these things to one person, or just one of these things. It. Just. Needs. To. Make. You. Smile. And although I am affected by all the pleasantries these things can offer, there is one little item that does just that - makes me smile. At any given time. When I see it.

As I was dusting my dining room this morning, I found my "Happy Place". I was pleasantly surprised by the smile it brought me. I found this little thing - probably more than a year or so ago - nestled in amongst it's counterparts. It was, however, different. And I claimed it. It made me smile immediately. The kids could only admire it. I was made fun of by everyone, initially, but hey, that was okay. It was my treasure! Personally, I think they were a tad bit jealous that they didn't find it first!

And here she is - My Happy Place.



Just look at her! She has personality, style, attitude, confidence. She has it all.

First: She is wearing purple. A royal color. Bold. Beautiful. Shiny. ooooo. . ..aaaaahhh

Second: Underneath her gorgeous attire lies an envious body of DARK chocolate. DARK and RICH. She is a temptress. Did I just say that?

Thirdly: She is having the time of her life. She is a party all in herself. Just look at the many tendrils flowing from her! Not at all like her counterparts with only one, lonely, little, strand.
Not her - she is IT! ! She, my friends, is celebrating life!

So find your "Happy Place". Allow it to make you smile. Be creative. Sometimes we can find fun, joy, or whimsy in unexpected places. A bag of Hershey's dark chocolate, for instance!

"Swim Lessons - 101"

This was Helena's swim aid last year. When I opened the pool I hadn't got all the "equipment" out of storage so. . . . . . .

. . . . . .Helena had to use this. . . . an inner tube that had missed the storage box last year. She wasn't overly thrilled, for fear of drowning, but in lieu of watching Rease swim, she donned the rubber star.

In the mean time I shopped the Dollar Tree for noodles. (Why pay more when they will be done for at the end of the season anyway? Hm?) Helena watched Rease jump in and grab her noodles of choice. I could see the wheels turning - and I was getting queasy thinking what she was thinking. She did, however, get in the pool with her star and immediately insisted that I take it off and give her a noodle. *Insert sinking feeling here* (not her, me!) "Are you sure?" asked I.
"Yes!" says she. Against my better judgement, I obliged. Not only did she make out ok with the noodle . . . . . .




. . . . . she let go of it and proceeded to doggie paddle! Be still my beating heart!





Questions is: When did she lose the fear of drowning?
Was it the colorful noodles that enticed her, or her pride - not wanting to "hang" around in that star!

I think she wore herself out paddling around. Rease was a nervous wreck - thought her little sister was going to "belly up"! !

Helena told me she was taking swimming lessons - at Mom-mom's - and she wanted to know if she was going to graduate - Oh. My. "Of course", I told her. I know - you don't have to say it.

Little does this gal know the only lessons she will be getting are the ones she picks up naturally, because the owner/operator of "Rease Swim Club" can't swim a lick! ! ! How's that for faith?

Umm . . . PS - after school this afternoon Helena spotted her purple swimmie on the deck. She said: "Thank you for finding my swimmie. Where was it?" I told her it was with the beach towels. "Oh. I'm not going to be wearing it, but thank you anyway." she says.

Alrighty then.

MY POETRY

I was standing at the kitchen window pouring my second cup o' Joe, when I caught sight of a truck pulling a closed in trailer behind it. The company's name on the trailer was "Paper Dreams". I've seen this trailer before but, for some reason, this morning it "triggered" a poem in my brain! I borrowed their name for my poem :) ! Think they will mind? Na!

Paper Dreams

Paper dreams, in the scheme of things
Is a scrapbooker's, stamper's delight.
Creations for ways to use the stuff
May very well keep us up late at night.

We plot the way we plan to create
The millions of visions we have in our head.
Interruptions and distractions at times like these
We notably, distastefully, most assuredly, dread!

Please give us our space, it's so little to ask
That we may create the dreams that lie within us.
We stamp and we cut, and we punch and we tear
Our layouts with details that require so much fuss.

And out of our brains come the creations of heart
Put on paper, such words can not describe.
To create our memories of life, heart and soul
Our love thru our talents we simply can't hide.

So paper dreams, in the scheme of things
Is a scrapbooker's, stamper's delight.
Creations for ways to use the stuff
Will assuredly keep us up late at night!

Crickett