Lady and The Spencer

In the Dollar Tree store, the public address system made a scritchy-scratch sound, then a woman's voice from the ceiling said, "I need..." scritchy-scratch sound again, and that click of disconnect.

Spencer and I continued shopping, me checking out the Christmas clearance.  PA system came on again, scritchy-scratch sound, woman's voice, "I need a waaa-waaa-waaa...." scritchy-scratch sound and click of disconnect.

Spencer and I are laughing, "Come on, you can do it, lady.  Try again."  Of course, she was at the other side of the store and couldn't hear us, but we were sure sending her motivating vibes anyway.  Finally, scritchy-scratch sound, woman's voice, "I need a manager, please", and click.  We gave each other a nod of approval, "good job." She got it done.

We are done shopping and in line at the check out, and I announce how I don't like to handle those little black stylus pens on the side of the credit card reader.  It's a new thing where the cashier asks you if you want a paper receipt or not, but you have to answer by picking up that stylus and touching yes or no on the screen with it.  "Ugh.  I hate using that." Turning to Spencer, I clarify, " Do you know EVERYBODY HAS to use that now, whether you want a receipt or not, EVERYONE has to touch it.  People with colds, men who've picked their noses, women with hankies in their hands or that have just wiped their toddler's face.  It's gross."

Well, he got me.  He got the cashier, too.  He got her to laughing, heartily.

As we walked out the door, he said, "Did you see her face when we walked through line?  She was ready to quit.  She was about to walk out the door.  But we made her laugh, now it's not so bad, she's gonna have a good day."

Want to know what he said?  And, btw, what does he know about it?  He's a single guy, never married!

He said, "Mom, just look at the money she's handing you in change!  Just think about it, Mom.  You don't know where that money's been.  It could've come out of a stripper's g-string!"

POOR THING, TREETOP ANGEL

Never, ever, has this happened before!  In all my years of raising toddler have toddler after toddler never, ever, has this happened before!

We've hung the Christmas tree upside down from the ceiling, decorated with red ribbon and a star on the bottom (or should I say the top).

We've secured half a Christmas tree firmly against the wall, strung with multi-colored lights.

We've surrounded the Christmas tree with decorated cement blocks to resemble presents to keep the toddlers' walkers at bay.

And this year, for only the second time ever, we put a short Christmas tree on top of a table. We adorned it with crystal orbs and reflective icicles and silvery glittery garland.

It stood there a month.

Now, Christmas Day, sitting on the floor playing with grand babies, Miss Lilly toddles over to me and  pushes something in my face, asking, "What's this?"  I pulled my head back to put an eyeball on it -- focus, focusing -- IT'S THE TREETOP ANGEL!!!!!

"WHERE'D YOU GET THAT??????"

Raising my head a bit higher, laser seeking eyes looking towards the Christmas tree, "OH MY LANDS!"  It looked quite sad laying in front of the picture window on it's side.  Settled over some forgotten presents, across the couch's arm rest, drooping white & silver garland, there were pieces parts scattered in its crash.  Poor thing, it had a broken leg!

Without notice, and ever so softly, the Christmas tree had fallen.

AND THE EGG YOU SPY MAKES FIVE

Miss Lilly came in, bringing Christmas with her wearing a little red jumper and candy cane stripped shirt.  She hadn't had breakfast, yet.  It was no one's fault just the circumstances.

Our table was set with pretty dishes, red poinsettia napkins, pedestal crystal fruit bowl full of grapes, and foods that didn't need warmed like cranberry jello, walnut banana bread, and deviled eggs.

Miss Lilly looked it over, "I want egg."
So, I fed her one.  

Then, I fixed her a plate of cranberry jello, partial banana, and sausage link.  Ta-daaa, a breakfast of sausage and egg, right?  (Convoluted thinking, but like hubby told our son, "When kids come here hungry, I'm gonna feed 'em.")

Later, sitting around the Christmas table, there were 9 of us for dinner.   I did wiggle in a separate 3-chaired kids' table.  That totaled 12 mouths to feed.  While filling our plates with turkey and mashed taters, Rusty says, "Why only one plate of deviled eggs?  You ALWAYS make 2!"

I looked to the end of the table and there's only a couple deviled eggs left.  Raising my eyes I meet Clint's twinkling eyes and spy a half eaten deviled egg in his mouth as he's poking the rest in. He raises his other hand and spreads out the fingers like a high five, but no, after the egg goes all the way in, and his now jobless hand points to the finger-spread hand, he nods his head in affirmation to say this egg was his FIFTH!  HIS FIFTH!

After swallowing, he asks, "Can I have one more?" and he laughs, "that would make it even.  I would've had 3 whole eggs then."

There are no words to express my Shock and Awe!

Awed that he could and
shocked that he would!!!

My quiet, non-troublemaking Clint, the biggest EGG of all!

ISLAND MAKING LILLY'S WAY

Miss Lilly decorated the church, yep, she did!   Five adults prepped the stage for the little kids Christmas program coming up this weekend, and Lilly helped.  

Remember that old Shake and Bake commercial, where the little girl with her southern twang happily chimed in, "And I helped."  Well, that was Miss Lilly.

On that Sunday after church, after a quick meal at Subway, a few of us traipsed back to the church to put up a curtain rod and a backdrop.  That's all that was needed from the men.  But, you know, with all that help, and their willingness to stick around to do more, we did.  We did more.  And don't forget Miss Lilly, she helped.  And I mean, she de-cor-ated...!


The theme?  "I Saw Three Ships".  The stage would be set as a pier with a palm tree hanging over a trunk, a fence roll, a barrel, some crates, and some wooden boxes.  Painted in the center of the backdrop would be a big brown ship moored to shore.  

While I sat on the blue carpeted floor to cut nylon fishing line to length to hang some jellyfish, Miss Lilly was busy, too.  She dismantled my 10 inch palm tree!  

Yep, that palm tree became a tower on her island in the middle of the sanctuary.

I didn't realize what the mess was all about until her daddy, told me, "Well, yah, I knew that.  That's what she said it was."  She'd pulled 3 foam play mats from some other kid's pew and dotted it with jumbo legos, her houses.  

When I got up to find some nails for the men, she unrolled a ball of large rope down the length of the church, but when she started on the nylon fishing line I'd left lay, I said,  "Uh-uh, girl, that's not happening!"  

An unfolded step ladder became a mountain to climb, a nativity wiseman became a lost man on that island, and an open pocket knife got preemptively snatched when we spied her chubby little hands reaching out, "What's this?"

As we walked up and down the church looking for her misplaced green teddy bear, there were obvious evidences of unobserved play -- boxes askew, pencil laying on scribbled paper, books flat open, and...hey, wait a minute, "Oh, Miss Lilly!"... there on their sides laid two little brown boots..."Are you missing your shoes?"  

At this point, she not only had lost her shoes, and her green teddy bear, she lost her good mood, too.  She didn't want to go home.  There were too many fun, unhindered by parents, things to do; and lots of space to do it in!

When an overly large white wooly sheep can be your pony, who needs a children's Christmas play?

Decorating is much more fun, just ask a wiseman. 

"Bad, Baby-sitters, BAD!"

Miss Lilly went upstairs by herself!  Upstairs, anywhere, is always enticing but Miss Lilly wasn't supposed to be up there and especially not by herself.  

We women were busy in the other room.  We knew she was entertaining herself in the same room as the men and, mistakenly, trusted them.  But never did we dream she'd venture into the great unknown, the upstairs, on her own.   AND...that she would carry a big pink box down!  Down 13 steps! 

"Didn't you see her?"  I asked the men in the room.

"Yah, we saw her.  She did a fine job.  She did it okay",  said the father.

"Do you know how heavy this box is?  Here hold it."  and I plopped it into his hands.

"Yah, okay, she handled it."  He said with a proud assured voice.

"Look inside.  It's full of papers!" I was exasperated.

"So?"

"SO????  If she'd fallen, or missed a step, not only would papers go everywhere, she'd be hurt!"

"She didn't.  She's fine.  See."  And the father and the grandfather point to her playing quietly with a pegged puzzle of little bugs.

"And that's why men have a bad reputation for babysitting!" I said making a declaration and shaking my head.

They look at each other with half twinkles in their eyes because partly they're serious in their answers, and partly because they like razzing me.  They shared a glance and shrugged their shoulders in nonchalance.  

I felt a "grrrrrr" rising in my chest!  "Bad, babysitters, bad!"
"She shouldn't be upstairs alone in the first place."

"We didn't know."

Ah-ha!  Truth!  That's the core of it all!

"What's That?" Moon, Flying Bats

Miss Lilly's here!

She hasn't been here for a few days so she hasn't seen all the Halloween decorations that's been added since the last time.   She finds my binoculars and strings the strap around her neck.  That was after she took off her pretty pink Sunday shoes.

No good tomboy wears shoes.

Off she goes, out the door, gingerly, 'cause her feet are bare, you know.

And she raises her binoculars to her eyes.  "Pumpkyins."  She scans the smiling jack o' lanterns on sticks poked in the ground, the ones she and Jay had pushed in last week, and she checks out the hanging bones in the tree, sees the plastic stick greeter then turns to me, "Witch."

Wow, this 4 y.o.  knows all the characters!

This little toddler, with intelligent eyes, spies the skull on a nail.  And, even though it's orange, she knows what it is and points to another, "Ghost".

"What's that?"  squeaky voice asks, and I tell her it's a moon with bats flying around.  

Then begins the climb.  I have a shadow box on the wall that I periodically change out to go along with the seasons or any current family events such as weddings or birthdays.  It began back in the 70's when ecology boxes were popular but soy beans, corn, wheat hulls, etc. always went to dust or got mites, so down they came and were cleaned out.  I kept mine and used it to be creative making each box a room or a scene and poking miniature furniture or creatures in them.   Sometimes photos for birthday fun, or awards for graduation decor; just whatever strikes my fancy.

Today its filled with all things Halloween...Frankenstein monster, red devil, crawling green hand, tombstones, skeleton sitting on a headstone eating a jack'o lantern, and more.

Miss Lilly wants to see.

She has to climb up on the back of the couch to get eye level, but I discourage her from removing anything.  She's about to get in trouble for climbing as it is.  I do let her touch the big black bat, and she's allowed to poke the brown skeleton to make him swing, and then it's "Time to get down."

She meanders through the family room into the kitchen.
I assume she's exploring for more evidence of Halloween since she's still clutching the binoculars in both hands.

She raises her binoculars again and as she leaves me behind I hear her girly sweet voice,
"Happy Halloween is scary."

Firemen, Spiders, & Keys, Oh My!

Red & blue lights were going round in a frenzy atop the three - fire engine, rescue truck, and fire truck.  They made a bold red presence while intimidatingly clogging the entrance to Wal-Mart.

I'd been called to come.
Come to rescue.
Come to rescue John, the darling hubby.

He'd locked his keys in his truck and wanted me to bring any spare Ford keys I could find, and as last hope, a wire hanger, too.  I did.  And so here I am, I'm circling the parking lot ignoring the insistant blink, blink, blink of emergency lights.

Something else is going on.
The firemen in black shirts with red logos are pouring over a gray sedan parked nearby, occupant-less.  I was wondering if it was a day for being locked out of cars.

Or a day for emergency training.

Whatever.  Doesn't matter.  I continue to circle the parking lot, making sure I haven't missed a blue and white diesel pickup with bright amber marker lights edging its top.  So far no luck.

Hey, those firemen are walking away from that car.
They're on my right side.  I can just pull up and ask them if they have already helped rescue John.

So, I roll down the passenger window, ignoring the 2 foot furry spider I'd taped to the frame.  It and the skeleton clinging on the rear window are my efforts at enjoying Halloween.  It is October after all, one of my very favorite months!  Hocus Pocus is one of my very favorite movies, too.

Anyway, this tall sandy haired fireman turns his head a bit sideways to me, approaches the downed window with a half squint, and I ask him,  "Have you helped anyone, a gentleman in a blue diesel, unlock his truck?  He locked his keys inside, and I brought all the stuff he asked for, but I can't seem to find him."

"Uh, no-o.  No, I haven't.  Sorry, that's not what we're here for," he calmly replied.

I thanked him, started my own truck forward slowly as there are three more firemen standing nearby and I didn't want to bump into any of them.  With my window still down,  I overheard pieces-parts of sandy-haired fireman's conversation:

"Lady __ window ___
God!
God!
Oh Shit!  ___ Giant spider!"

On The Hunt For A Big Bird

We walked in
She walked out and
He walked in.

We walked in, on the hunt for a big bird.
She walked out, arms laden with vintage dresses.
He walked in, straight to the bar stool to catch his breath.

We walked in not hunting a pet or a pigeon, LOL, but for Big Bird ... and Grover, and Elmo, and Oscar the Grouch to fill a Sesame Street play set. The antique consignment shop was full of treasures - collectibles, memories, and set completions!

There to woo the eye was reflective crystal dishes for women, and under glass pocket knives for men.  To tease the kids, (or the inner child, LOL) one corner was chock full of old-fashioned candy like Nik-L-Nip wax bottles, rock candy sticks, and Goo Goos.

She walked out, a customer, her arms laden with vintage dresses, all fluffy and bouffant with tulle crinolines.  But when she squealed, "Oh, let me look!  Just a minute!" she made her partner stop in his tracks 'cause she'd spied a big bold sign "50% off"!

He walked in.  "Hi, Tim!  How you feeling?"   "I'm sick," he replied.  When I eyed him warily, he soothed with a smile, "I'm not contagious, seriously, I"m not."

We browsed, checking out old clock radios, caressing angel figurines in sweet nostalgia, and wondering at old games...Puss In The Corner, or Uncle Wiggly.  One adjunct room was library-like with LP's, CD's, encyclopedias and books.  Slid under the bottom shelf was a box of musty, maybe moldy, books.  I pulled one, Motherhood The Second Oldest Profession, thinking it was probably touting tips and advice for raising kids.  That is, until I read the author's name, Erma Bombeck.

Oh, this was bound to be good!  My favorite quick quip writer of At Wits End in the newspaper back in the '80's.  She was clean, she was earthy, she was relatable, she was funny!

So, I flipped through and read an except to dear hubby.  Afterwards, I was vindicated.   Aloud, I read:

"The minute they heard Gloria's car in the driveway, Treva and her husband swing into action with all the precision and efficiency of the Lippizan cavalry."

"Treva whipped the planter off the coffee table and put it in the hall closet, locked the bathroom door, shoved a bowl of candy under the lounge chair, put the dog in the utility room, and took the knob off the TV set and dropped it in her pocket."

"Her husband Mel covered the sofa with plastic, put his bowling trophy on top of the refrigerator, blocked the entrance to the basement with a kitchen chair, put the toaster cover over the phone, and closed the lid on the piano to cover the keys."

"Then both put toothpicks in their mouths to announce they had just eaten.  They broke their own record -- one minute, thirty-six seconds."

"Ah, ha!"  I told hubby, "I'm vindicated.  The boys claim I'm odd.  They snicker at my antics, don't they?  But, here I am in black and white, right off the pages of an old book, but alive in the mind of Erma."  "Oh, she's STILL my favorite author!"

Then the blush.  It rose from the bottom of my neck, covered the ears, boiled my cheeks, and reddened the temples.

She had walked out, but then had returned.
He had stayed put, still bar stool seated.

And we walked in...
we walked right into their circle of laughter.

Oh my, I'd had an audience!

The Gift That Kept On Giving

"A tiara!"  "Wow!"  "Mom, I love it."  

"Does mine look like hers?"

Of course, siblings would want to know something like that when they realize they each have been given similar presents, LOL.

This tiara was a gift from mom who gave my sister one, too.  We were teenagers, not yet in junior high, and this was quite extravagant for our family.  I felt so glamorous.  It was oh, so, stunning with many rhinestones rising to a peak, and it tucked perfectly into a white box.

30 some years later, April of 2004, and I'm hunting high and low for this beloved treasure, and I can't find it anywhere!

Here, I have to tell you about FlyLady.net.  My parents and sibs have gone from party-line telephones on the wall to radio/camera/internet connecting cell phones.  With the internet came websites, my favorite being FlyLady.net.

Here's a wikipedia explanation of FlyLady:  The system encourages "baby steps" to develop routines and habits to organize and maintain your home. The primary focus is "Finally Loving Yourself" by making your life easier by decluttering, menu planning, "anti-procrastination" day, and establishing routines, as well as financial and health-related self-care.  FlyLady's logo is a self-caricature -- a woman in purple, sprouting wings, and sporting a fishing pole.

So, this day, while cleaning the 15 minute FlyLady way, I found my glistening tiara stuck in a nightstand drawer.  Promptly, I placed it on my head.  I can't call myself The FlyLady, and I can't call myself Domestic Goddess like my friend Jeani, but I can claim the title Queen of Clean, can't I?  Yep.  Yep, I can.

My toddler was helping me; he was doing FlyLady cleaning by spritzing the baseboards and dusting them.  His way, of course, because as FlyLady says, "Housework done incorrectly still blesses the family".  

He looked up at me and said, "Cool crown!"  I replied, "Thank you.  It's my FlyLady crown, I'm the Queen of Clean."  

Now, here's where I'm surprised because I can't say too much about FlyLady around the boys and hubby.  They think of FlyLady as a dirty word, associating it with cleaning sessions and timers going off.  And besides all that, I'm also surprised because the toddler's only 4.  He said of my tiara, "Cool crown!" then he quickly came back with, "But, Mom, it's supposed to be purple."  

Wow!  He noticed.

Wow!  He thought I deserved an upgrade.

I love it!

I love it all!

And There Goes My Stuff!

"What happens to your stuff?"

If that was asked of the boys, any one of them would conjure up some nostalgic toy memory and swear up and down that I'd sold it in garage sale!

Not true.  They played hard.  Most toys weren't fit for reselling, and if I did sell, I made sure they no longer wanted it.  But, memories are fickle things, re-worked by emotions, and watered down by time.

Most stuff goes through a garage sale a couple times then gets donated to 2nd Blessings.  2nd Blessings is a thrift store whose monies go to women and children in need.  They also provide women and children in need any furnishings donated.

Since we live a mile from a flea market and their customers are new every week, there's a chance an item (my stuff) might not sell the first time but WILL sell the second time.  I had a swath of beautiful lace that I kept around in case I needed it, but was willing to sell for a good and decent price.  After several sales, it sold! 

The best part isn't the ridding your home of clutter.  The best part isn't the money.  The best part is the people!  I love people watching.  

They'll come in lickety-split, you can tell they mean business, cruise through and "Off!" they're gone.  Some come dragging in, either feeble or on that carb low from just eating lunch.  Some hang onto their sons for support.  Some just look.  Some touch everything and buy nothing.  Some carry an item around then before leaving put it down.  Some will load up and leave with 2 bags full.  Some chat about an item that evoked feelings.

Some bring in doggies on a leash.  Some leave them barking in the car.

"See, that didn't take too long," a female owner made that pursed kissy-lipped face through her car's rear door window, "pooch-woochie woo-woo.  You did a good job handling staying in the car by yourself", and she reached in and doled out head scratchings.

Our own pets get petted.  Customers walk up to the gate and reach over to pet Daisy Dog. The cats are even gathered up, cuddled and rocked like a baby throughout their shopping!

The men want pocket knives, hand tools, guns, and fishing gear.  If I have any of those, I'm a winner and they'll come back next year.  "Nope, I'm looking for the old stuff."  or it's  "I cast my line and the reel went in with it!  Tarnation and damnation!" 

Garage sales are great for meeting new people, and chatting up old friends who wouldn't otherwise stop by.  Yes, they'll pop in if you've opened your doors for a sale -- it's one thing that keeps me hooked on having them.  I had an old classmate from junior high who's very shy and very sweet, stop in and she announced to her teenaged daughters standing behind her, "This lady was my best friend."  Wow, what a compliment, and additionally, I didn't realize her kids rode on my kids bus!  

John, darling hubby, has an old friend who used to be his boss back in the 80's that always stops in to catch up on family news.  And one guy was a friend to my dad.   He has a big booming voice, and a self-confident attitude.  He knows all the family and is willing to give advice about his own trade.  It makes me smile just to think of him.  Another time a guy popped in and I said, "You're a McPhearson, aren't you?"  He replied, "Yes, how'd you know?"  I told him, "Because of your voice.  You've got The Commanding McPhearson voice."

Then there's the repeat customers.  Their station in life has changed.  They lose a spouse one year, then next year come with a "friend."  They get a little grayer and stoop a little more.  They ask why such and such has changed in the yard or about the house.  They say, "I knew you had (fill in the blank) and wondered if you'd changed your mind about selling it."

Want to see them stammer and stutter?  Give it to them free!

Or, tell them "all the change in your pocket".  That one's a crap shoot.  Most people only deal in debit cards.  If their eyes are thinking, they probably have a whale of a lot of coins in their pockets!

And, many a time, they're surprised at how pleasant is our yard.   We're situated just a few feet from the highway, but, we're up on a hill.  There's evergreen trees on all the property lines because John, darling hubby, got on his knees and planted 300 of them in the mud!

They make a sound barrier and a wind break.  

It was a farmers field but we've made it our own with 40 y.o. maple and elm and English walnut trees.  And sectioning off the front yard with a fence enclosing a water feature, a flower bed, and a rock garden.  It is pleasant, pleasant for reading or picnicking or grandkid play.

You can see why I like garage sales, it's not just the money, and it's not all about seeing my stuff remaining useful, it's a lot about the people.

"I don't have enough money right now, how late you open?"

"Will you be open tomorrow?"
"Here's 10.  Will you hold it for my daughter who's on her way?"
"How much would you charge to deliver?"

"If your husband ever wants to sell that, here's my number, just let me know."

"Here's my card.  I'm looking for gold jewelry."

LOL, I'm looking for gold jewelry, too!

I'd like to get some cash off of YOU!

She smiles, he smiles, I smile, and there goes my stuff.

The Captain & The Hubby

“Step-thunk, step-thunk, step-thunk.”

Like Long John Silvers, I could've walked with a crutch, going up the stairs, but they wouldn't have helped much!

Repeat.  Repeat.  Repeat. Thirteen times repeat!

“Step-thunk, step-thunk, step-thunk.”

To go up and down the stairs to our master bedroom wearing a rehabilitation black boot you have to repeat that action and it's accompanying sounds thirteen times!  

"Arrrgh, 13 steps -- superstitious it be!"

The durn thing, that boot, is wieldy, heavy, black, and hot.  John, darling hubby, laughs when he hears me coming.  There’s no sneaking and there’s no guessing as to my whereabouts. The poop deck, the crow's nest, port or prow, "he knew where I were" "be it galley or bow."

After stepping into a hole dug by our dog, and twisting my ankle and breaking bones, I’d been dealing with pain and inconvenience for a year and 6 months.  

I used to be “captain of my ship”, you know, housewife guiding the home while the bacon bringer is away.    But sometimes the tumultuous waters of life made me wonder how much of a “captain” was I really.

So, the bacon bringer is home with a backache, lying in my bed he was.  It must be a very bad backache because he dearly loves his job and it would take a lot for him to let someone else drive his school bus and care for “his kids.” He’s so conscientious that he prays for their safety twice a day.  Today, he’s underfoot, my black foot, causing distress to my already distressed schedule.

All my plans got strewn like papers blown by Captain Flint’s winged breeze; scattered about on a pirate's desk rolling in the seas!

And I'm cogitating a new meaning to "step-thunk, step-thunk, step-thunk".

"Arrrrgh, it be punny!"

And now some pirated Pirate jokes:

Why did Captain Hook cross the road?  To get to the second-hand shop!

What do you call a stupid pirate?  The pill-age idiot!

When's the best time to buy a pirate ship?  When it's on sail!

Why did the Pirate walk the plank?  Because he didn't have a pet dog!

What is Pirate Jack's least favorite vegetable?  Leeks!

"Arrrrgh, they be punny!"

He Would Do This, And He Did!

Cousin Jack would do this, and he did!

The boys in the checkout line heard this sound faintly, then louder as the maker got closer and closer, "shurrrrup pop, shurrrrup pop, shurrrup pop!"

Jack was hunkered over a toilet plunger, hands on handle, knees pushing up to break the suction as he rode it from housewares to the checkout, popping it up and down with suction on the floor as he went, when he got to checkout, he shoved it hard onto the counter where the clerk couldn't work it off!  

And you must know that his own sound effects accompanied the whole event!


Calvin would do this, and he did!

He and Ian were putting blocks under the tires.  Ian was a new driver with a car that needed attention.  There's a 12 year difference between the two, with the older Calvin being more slender, and the younger Ian being a bit more built.  

Calvin was heard offering a hand, "Come here, my little minion, I'll show you how to do it."


Rusty would do this, and he did!

He was standing next to Darling Hubby as hubby reached to the very top shelf to get the 12 Roll Charmin toilet paper package.  Darling Hubby, quietly but sternly said, "Get up!" because while his arm was outstretched still in the air, Rusty (age 17, and a bit huskier than his dad) with a grin only his dad could see, crouched towards the floor, crossed his arms over his head and said loudly, "Don't do it Dad, don't hit me."  

A Stranger would do this, and he did!

Rusty and I spent a week cleaning out the barn.  We sorted stuff into metals to be reclaimed, trash, piles for each brother, and things to sell.  Things to sell we arranged outside the barn.  First, though, I should tell you we had a johnboat stolen a few days before.  Darling Hubby to this day shakes his head and says our watch dog instead of barking an alarm, "He held the tailgate open!"

Hanging from a 2 x 4 homemade rack we had 2 boat motors.  Well, that night someone dared to drive down to the barn and stole a motor!  The Evenrude!  Wasn't that rude!

Now the stranger has a boat AND a motor.  You think that's funny?  Just wait!  

The thief came back the next night and exchanged it!!!

You think that's funny?  Just wait!

Disgusted Darling Hubby had a pithy comment to make,  "He exchanged it for the worst one -- the one that doesn't run!!!!!"

"I Read It On A Turtle"

Nicolette, a new friend of the family, complained about the temperature in the flea market store, "It's 80 degrees in here."  How do you know, we asked, thinking it was an odd thing to know right there at that moment.  "I read it on a turtle!"   LOL, sure enough a thermometer was embedded into a ceramic turtle figurine hanging up for sale. Ha, ha, ha, "I read it on a turtle."

*****

Granny, John's mother, told me over the phone about John's dad sitting next to her in church,  "When are you gonna sing?" she asked him.   The dad replied, "I'm singing.  I'm singing so low you can't hear me."

*****

John stated, "WATCH!  Watch out for pigs!  They get out there on the interstate and die!
"Been there, done that."  And it wasn't funny.

*****

Clint gave me a twinkling eye-brow raised look.  I could read his mind,  "How ya gonna take that fun little poke?"   So, I beat him about the head and shoulders with the red licorice twizzler in my hand.  Then, like a Sherlock Holmes criminal, I ate the evidence!

*****

Calvin, who has a reputation of waiting late to apply brakes at stop signs, told us of his adventure in Chicago, "That taxi driver made my driving look like I'm a recruiter!"

*****

To the newly married sons we quoted my father, "Marriage is the biggest compromise you'll ever make."  One son quickly replied, "Massive compromise!  You make 'em all!"

*****

Clint's 3 point advice:  Don't smoke a joint.  Don't drink cocktails.  And if a man with a gun approaches, run!

*****

Miss Lilly, aged 2, stepped into my shoes I had just slipped off.  "Those are GrammyPam shoes," I laughed.  She corrected me, "No.  Mine.  I'ma gonna walk."

*****

His quick response was, "Why?  Can't you see me in my clown outfit?"
when I leaned over Darling Hubby and squinted, "I'm a'wondering if I switched my contacts if you'd look funny."

*****

Ever say to your child,  "That's not funny"?  One of mine disagreed, "Tis to funny!"

I think I'll go read my turtle now, tis funny.

Yep, We Taste Tested Donuts!

"You'll never guess what we did over Spring break?"

Now, isn't that a trite question?  Seriously, though, you'd never guess.  We did not have a staycation, we did not do honey-do tasks, we did not go to a Florida beach.

Here's what we did do:  each day we went to a different nearby city to a donut shop!  Yep!  That's what we did!  We taste tested donuts!!!

It started with waking up hungry on Monday, LOL.  Darling Hubby always and forever thinks eating out is a treat, and iHop with the sons is his very favorite.  So, when we woke up with no plans for the day (as a bus driver he was off for the next 5 days) his first thought was, "Lets eat out!"  And off we went on a unique adventure!

Down the road to Rebellion Donuts at Noblesville was first.  Oh my lands, they were thick, and  stacked, they looked like they'd fill up your stomach without ever adding any bacon and eggs.  I could've had the Little Rebel but a chocolate bedecked donut beckoned, sweet and gooey.  Handmade everyday, they are, and you can watch the employees do it.  And Rebellion serves kombucha, a slightly alcoholic, sweet tea.  Though coffee made it into our cups.

Darling Hubby, my personal connoisseur, commented on the only other customer, "Unless they have more business than I saw, they won't survive."

Next on our journey, the Quick Cup in Tipton.  This place is inviting, especially to still-in-jammies mom's rushing kids to school, or professional dad's looking for a fast getaway, because of it's orange, boxy, drive-through building.  Large menu on the outside let's you know what's inside.  Darling Hubby paid for himself a cherry danish, and me a bear claw.  They arrived warm, "Um, yummy.".  Surprisingly contrarily, he said, "I've had better."  And declared it a flop!   Not me, I was in sweet heaven.

It's another morning, Wednesday, and we chose Jacks Donuts in Anderson.  Oh my, the coffee choices!  (No I didn't say donuts.) The tall silver self-serve canisters were lined up like soldiers, the last one shielded with a blue sign that stated "Colt's Coffee Choice", LOL.  Well, this shop tucked away in a strip mall by the city college had 3 counters of donuts, purple coffee cups with purple stirring twizzlers, and bar stools to belly up to the counter at the picture windows.  We could sup watching the world go by.

Our venture takes a twist.  Lapel doesn't exactly have a donut shop.  They have a shop called A Slice Of Heaven whose claim to fame is cakeballs.  Mostly they make wedding cakes, but they're famous for cakeballs.  You can get them on a stick or you can grab your delectable choice with wax paper.  Their flavors are simple:  red velvet, white almond, dark chocolate, strawberry, and "Don't tell my wife!"  LOL, that last one was just something our son said when he encouraged us "Let's go in here and get something."  We knew not what, as he rubbed his enlarging belly, "Don't tell my wife!"  With about two bites the decadent white almond ball was gone.

“Tasty  Pastries” is what the sign said on the brown and blue building as we cruised through Fortville.  Our eyes followed it longingly as it went out of sight.  We had already had our donuts for the day, we wouldn't indulge an extra stop for more fantasy delights.  

I have to tell you, doing this was having an affect on me.  I was loving it.  I was getting love handles. I have the ill-fitting clothes to show off the loving handles, ha, ha!

For our final morning we wanted to visit the son in Pendleton so, of course, we headed to Quack Daddy's!  Yep, they have little rubber duckies greeting you at the counter.  Yep, they're a favorite having won awards with plaques on display.  And yep, like the first shop, it had an industrial feel except with an added sense of humor.

Yellow directional arrows on the floor, lit bulbed arrow on the wall "Donuts this way" and their wall arts were humorous, "In moments of doubt, trust your gut, hug your dog, and eat a donut."

We got to pick our topping by checking the order form for Fruity Pebbles or Oreos, or bacon or sprinkles.  Then with the stubby pencil we would pick our icing, vanilla, glaze, strawberry, etc.  Now, how are you supposed to pick just one!

And that's how the week ended;  after taste testing donuts everyday, with so many good choices, how are you supposed to pick just one?

Taste testing donuts during Spring break, isn't that something you'd love to do?  Sure it is!  Sugar between your teeth, glaze on your fingertips, and sprinkles stuck to your upper lip, "Donut make you want to smile."