Tuesday, March 24, 2009


Spring is here.
All the weather people say it is here.
The calendar says it is here.
Lately we have had some pretty stiff March winds out there in Mother Nature's attempt to dry up the ground for the sprouting of the green everywhere.
It is pretty awesome to listen to the wind in the trees and watch the 'invisible dance' the wind and trees do together.
Sometimes they are stiff and 'courtly'.
Other times the two are bending together with the dance of wild abandonment.
Sometimes they are gently swaying together as in an old couple moving slowly with the rhythm of complete satisfaction and trust with the other.
Today I don't have the wild, gyrating gusts of new love.
Just the steady, gentle swaying of an old love....completely at ease with each other.


We have had a ton of rain here in the middle of Minnesota. And that is not even close to what the Red River Valley is getting.
I am saying a prayer that everyone will be all right out there.
That is all I can do from here.
Huggs to everyone

Monday, March 23, 2009

Back, sort of

Well, since late Thursday and early Friday, I have been battling the flu bug or food poisoning. Most likely the latter. No vomiting but a lot of dry heaves.
Did I mention that I am not the best person to be sick?
I hate being sick.
When coherent (not sleeping), there are rumblings of snappishness, rudeness, growliness, and down and out feral behaviour.
No church on Sunday and I intensely dislike missing Mass (no guilt here, I just dislike missing Mass). Did work the auction kitchen (just pop, candy bars and pop, people.....no prepared food) on Saturday with the aid of two Tylenol, but was still under the radar on Sunday. Good thing I didn't go, because as soon as hubby left for the auction house on Sunday a.m. pickups, dry heaves hit again. Somehow, even when you are sick, you feel cheated when there is no product to accompany the action. The body is not able to rid itself of what is making you feel 'ucky'. Don't you feel just grand now?
Finally feeling a bit better today.
Well enough to start some laundry. 'Smeller' told me that the not so nice smellies accumulating in the hamper area had to get done. So loaded the small apartment sized Maytag washing machine in my kitchen, next to the fridge, and started it up.
Ok, Maybe not so up to par yet. Caught myself, sitting on my kitchen stool, looking at the load going round and around in the window and literally started to count the revolutions it made around before stopping and reversing itself. Yah! Doesn't take much to entertain myself, I guess.
So I thought I might be up to something to eat.
I'm Tellin' Ya'! Stephanie is my name! When in crisis, EAT! Of course, it wasn't chocolate or pineapple upside down cake (with sour cream, skip the whipped cream please), but it was close.
I have been able to keep down the Anoka, MN, Rice Box Thai restaurant dinner I got on Friday. Had to eat it today because today is day three. We all know that food prepared and not eaten by day three gets thrown out because of bacteria multiplying in it. It just isn't safe to eat any longer. Didn't eat a lot of the remaining dinner, but was able to throw it away without compunction. I did find out something, though. I don't like peanuts in my food. I am not fond of the crunch. Go Figure?! I love the peanut sauce in the Thai Spring rolls, and they have fantastic spring rolls at the Rice Box (just the right amount of cilantro) and the sauce has smaller peanut chunks, so that is OK.
But I am on the mend. Thank goodness. I don't much like myself when I get sick. I am thankful that my husband overlooks my crankiness and crappiness when I get sick. He is an absolute angel, even when he had a ton of nastiness going on with his business yesterday. He was still tender and solicitous for me. I appreciate that. My wish for you today is that you all have a hubby nor partner that is concerned for you when you are ill. If you don't have either, I wish you friends that will care for you, pets are included in this.
My 13.5# male cat, Silver, kept trying to get close to Mom to cuddle. Minnie (quite a bit smaller), kept trying to do the same. Minnie kept getting put back on her director's chair, and the big guy got pushed down by the feet to watch out for intruders coming in the bedroom door. Well, that's his job!
Now that I have written the book for the week, I wish you a good Monday. Now I am off to read my Monday installment of Nordic Needle's weekly newsletter for an uplifting chat with a favourite part of my stitching family.
Take care all.

Monday, March 16, 2009

I have become 'Stephanie Plum'.
No two ways about it.
My name is now 'Stephanie Plum'.
Or at least it should be.
She and I are having issues today.
Stephanie's issues currently are in the book To The Nines by Janet Evanovich, just in case you were unaware of who Stephanie Plum is.
Mine are with the A. T. & T. people.
Stephanie has this wonderful 'feelings' for TastyKakes when things go wrong, a kind of reconciliation substitution when dealing with idiot people.
Mine, today, is with the DQ Pecan Waffle Bowl, dipped, thank you.
For me, it's gonna be 5 hours on the treadmill, I know, and the waffle bowl isn't that good! Shouldn't have given in to it. The blood sugar is going to be off the wall.
Back to the issues. I am trying to find out how much our phone bill is for the house. Our land line. I don't have the bill for the house phone, just the current bills for the wireless accounts. I call that number. I was informed that they don't have those records in front of them.
O. K., give me the number for the land line. Got it. Called it and the number they said that I was calling from was a 203 area code? Same numbers, just turned around. And the actual seven digit number wasn't even close.
So I hung up and tried again.
Over a half hour later, I get Leon on the phone.
My luck, he is East Indian.
My sincerest apologies to every one that is of that descent.
My 66 year old ears simply cannot decipher your accent.
I have tried. I have asked that you speak slowly, even that doesn't help. I can understand English spoken with a Chinese accent, Irish accent, New England accent, Southern U.S.A. accent, Somali accent..........I just cannot bend my ear around the East Indian accent.
I have tried, and tried, and tried.
Then he asked me for the last four digits of the social security number for the account.
I am so very ashamed to say that I blew my temper, sky high.
I had to get into town before a certain time and I just wanted the current amount to send a check in, and the address of where to send it.
I don't have my husband's social security number, and even if I did, I wouldn't be giving it out. Even if it is just the last four numbers. It was never meant to be used as an ID and every one seems to need those last four digits. I guarantee that someone, somewhere, will have had a 'code program' that will run all the possible combinations at high speed until the name and the last four numbers agree. Bingo! My account will have been breached.
This is why we set up a password, or pass code, numbers if you will. Didn't want that, had to be the four numbers of his soc. sec. number. I hung up,
Went to town, paid those bills, and will look up the bill online, At least I won't have to encounter an accent I have tried for years to understand or give out the soc. sec. numbers.
I have tried, honestly.
Move over Steph, I am claiming your couch.

Thursday, March 12, 2009

Thank You Vonna

Hello Vonna and welcome. Thank you for leaving a comment. I do so appreciate it.
I cherish Erma and am so glad that you do also.
I am also a devout Roman Catholic and wonder if you can see my email addy. I checked and it is supposed to be visible, but don't know. Let me know.


Some times people yearn to live in the country.
Sometimes people that live in the country yearn to live in a city.
I may belong to the second today.
Today is the 'second day' of trying to get a running, babbling brook to stop coming out of our chicken coop hydrant, the back, most eastern building of our farm yard collection in buildings.
After getting a new well-head installed this summer, the problem stopped, or so we thought. (At least that alleviated the three foot, black-ant nest in the well head. Gross to say the least)
Today I will get to get my yard dug up for the second time with a back-hoe. I also have the well guy that installed the new well-head, back and try to fix our 'babbling brook'. Johnson Lake on top of our hill is not what I want.
Yesterday we had two friends and hubby digging around in a 40' well, thinking that by installing a valve and turn-off inside the well, would stop the water. Hubby went out this morning and saw steam and as he got closer, still heard the babbling brook. So whatever they did yesterday, didn't work.
'Tis the luck of the country livin', I'm tellin' ya!
Our friend with the backhoe just came in to turn on the water briefly to see where the line is, evidently and said that there wasn't much left of our chicken coop. Hmmm, O.K.
Guess when you have below zero weather and are behind a backhoe, everything goes.
Oh well, enough. Can't go to the bathroom, do dishes, laundry for at least another two hours, however, I can finish making the bed and comb/brush my hair as well as post and check email as well as knit.
I have been trying to finish our last granddaughter's scarf and hat set since December 14, 2008. That's another story there.
"Signing off of WKRP in Cincinnati......." oh wait, just our Fever Mug made it on the show, not me. Good Golly Miss Molly, not coherent today. Must be the nails that have been put off being fixed for a month now. Called for an appointment today, and cancelled all within 5 minutes. Arrrrgh!

Monday, March 9, 2009


I have cats.
In my house.
I rescued the 'old' ladies from outside because one year I was going to be gone for a week, and knew they wouldn't have survived that severe winter for a week. I have since lost three of my babies and I still grieve for them.
I won't tell you the number, as it is manageable, the house large enough and not like the houses you hear about on the news.
So don't even think of it.
I don't want to hear it.
And, if you persist, thinking that you are holier than thou, don't bother talking to me. I have already eliminated an old friendship because she told me that more than one cat was 'so very, very unhealthy'.....of course she has a 'suposed' allergy to cats and wouldn't think of having them in her home, For Heaven's Sake! By the way, she now has an inside house cat. Hmmmmm
They are my children, now that my own three have 'grown and flown'.
In some ways they are nicer to me than my three as they like to cuddle, a lot.
With me, on the bed, sometimes all at once. That makes for an interesting night's sleep. Never realized how stiff one can get when you have kitties fighting for territory with Mom and Mom sleeps in ONE position all night for fear of disrupting the ladies.
Dear Hubby has his own side of the bed, and they DO NOT try to compete with him for any of that bed surface, let me tell you!
I follow a lady in another blog that has her two babies, Chief and Bert, that make for such an interesting read. So I know she would understand. Hello Jill!
Anyway, two of my ladies are now in 'that' condition.
For the most part, I have tuned the yeowling out. But just in the last five minutes or so, have really 'listened' to it. The one making a fuss, and the Mother of the younger, answering. Such intonations! My Goodness! They do indeed have their own language! Highs and lows, sharps and shrills, gutteral and clear. It is like they are telling each other...the younger...'it is so annoying, I don't like it, when will it end, etc..' The older...'it won't take much longer, it is just part of our life, just let it go......' And on and on.

There is a marvelous series written by Shirley Rousseau Murphy that should be on every cat lover's list of reading. It centers around 'a big, powerful, gray feline, Joe Grey'. If you pick up one of the books find book one. Look at the publishing dates to find it. Even those of us with cats will find the way Shirley presents them, an eye-opener. I don't have them all and do need to keep the reading going. They are such fun books. I hope you will all go out to the library and read from book one on.
I am sorry for those of the world with just one cat or none. It is us with 'multiples' sharing our homes, that we can experience a phenomenon that is very, very interesting. And 'they' say cats can't talk.
Hmmmph. Little do they know, LOL.

Erma Bombeck's Words of Wisdom

When I was a young mother in the 60's and 70's, Erma Bombeck was the last word in understanding all of us out there with kids that had terminal snot noses, sludgy septic tanks, issues of body image, in short--really one of 'us'.
When she was on Good Morning America, I didn't miss watching her if I could help it.
Her wit was something I greatly admired, as I knew I had none of that marvelous gift.

I was too sober, too serious, and I still am.
I apologize for not showing the two graphics that was supposed to come to me. All I got is the tri-color symbol and no pic. So I deleted them. It doesn't matter anyway, Erma's wisdom will stand on it's own without the pics.
Enjoy her, and scout out one of her books again for a refreshing look at 'womanhood', and learn to laugh at yourself, 'just a little'.
In Memory Of and To Erma, with all my love, Cait

IN honor of women's history month and in memory of Erma Bombeck who lost her fight with cancer.

"IF I HAD MY LIFE TO LIVE OVER - by Erma Bombeck (written after she found out she was dying from cancer).

I would have gone to bed when I was sick instead of pretending the earth would go into a holding pattern if I weren't there for the day.
I would have burned the pink candle sculpted like a rose before it melted in storage.
I would have talked less and listened more.
I would have invited friends over to dinner even if the carpet was stained, or the sofa faded.
I would have eaten the popcorn in the 'good' living room and worried much less about the dirt when someone wanted to light a fire in the fireplace.
I would have taken the time to listen to my grandfather ramble about his youth.
I would have shared more of the responsibility carried by my husband.
I would never have insisted the car windows be rolled up on a summer day because my hair had just been teased and sprayed.
I would have sat on the lawn with my grass stains.
I would have cried and laughed less while watching television and more while watching life.
I would never have bought anything just because it was practical, wouldn't show soil, or was guaranteed to last a lifetime.
Instead of wishing away nine months of pregnancy, I'd have cherished every moment and realized that the wonderment growing inside me was the only chance in life to assist God in a miracle.
When my kids kissed me impetuously, I would never have said, 'Later. Now go get washed up for dinner.' There would have been more 'I love you's' More 'I'm sorry's.'
But mostly, given another shot at life, I would seize every minute. Look at it and really see it . . live it and never give it back.
Don't worry about who doesn't like you, who has more, or who's doing what.
Instead, let's cherish the relationships

we have with those who do love us."

Erma, you may be gone from our earthly plane, but there will always be a part of me that will know that you are giving God some chuckles up there.
God Bless you and most of all 'Thank You' for lightening up our days in suburbia and beyond.
Your Friend,