"Major"

It was 1985 give or take a year.  We were a normal family as far as that word goes.  One Father, one Mother, and four boys.  Actually five considering husbands are, more often then not one more kid to care for most of the time.  And this summer was one of those times.  He had lost his job and our beautiful family dog was chasing the UPS man daily.  Obviously we had no fence and the 5th child was not overseeing the situation very well.  Do realize the date....1985 meaning he was not a mature adult yet. Okay we have been divorced for 32 years if my math did that correctly. But lest ye know I have never forgotten what he did that summer.  He gave our dog away.  I wont elaborate because it wouldn't be nice at all.  When I finally tracked down the people he gave  our dog Major to.....they have given him away again.  I thought I would die emotionally.  We had our family photo's taken with that dog.  And it never left my heart all these years.

And then I met Grendel, who resembled Major.  We became instant buddies and the year was 2007.  He belonged to a client of mine. We would play ball, and I would brush him every other Friday.  I'd wash his stainless steel bowls as if they were my finest china.  I think it may have relieved my own guilt more than anything.  Although Grendel loved me and I him.  He would climb in the back seat of my vehicle if I left the door open too long.  And always run out of the house to greet me when I arrived.  Surely not because I always brought a treat.  In the picture below I am trying to get him to pose for a photo for the back of my business card.... Obviously it wasn't working but we sure had fun.

As the years past he grew weaker as we all do.  Now when I arrived he would get too excited and lose control of his rear section.  His rear section would go down almost doing the splits.  My helper and I would have to lift him up and steady him for a bit before letting him go on his own.  He couldn't play ball anymore and brushing him seemed to hurt somehow so that was out.

On days I was scheduled to be at there home his owner would always text me and let me know if he was not going to be there so I wouldn't worry.  I always said he was my Major reincarnated.  Even though I pretty much knew he wasn't.  Sort of my own private Disney fantasy.  God I always and still do cry at Lady and The Tramp.

So the last time I was there Old Grendel, age 15 was on the floor and couldn't get up.  The vet said this was probably it but the owners decided to wait one more day.   He couldn't even go to the bathroom on his own.  We had to put a sling around his belly and lift/walk his back legs for him.  I sat with him on the floor and discussed some of life and a lot of love.  He let me.  We used to sit out back on the deck (see pics) in total silence and listen to the beautiful sounds of nature.  Life.  I was and am so thankful to have known Grendel.  He and Major were my best friends ever. Wait, there was Barney dog, and Daisy, and Gracie Allen too.   Below was his last day on earth....

On my next scheduled visit to my client I found a card on the counter with beautiful words for
me..... It read:  " Thank you for all your love and support with our sweet old boy the last years."  Along with a $50.00 bill.  Which wasn't necessary but such a nice gesture of love, almost as if it were from Grendel himself.

Dear Diane

Dear Diane,
I am you. The part of you that makes decisions. The other part of you that has to live with those decisions as well. And also gets to feel how they affect you, good or bad.  I do want you to know I try very hard to get it right because feeling what you feel when it doesn't turn out as I expected is no picnic for me either sister.  You always joke and cover my side by saying you have eyes in your "ass" because you cant see anything until its passed...  Thank you but it is the truth.  Sometimes I cant see it and when I do I think I can make it all good as your license plate reads:  "ALSWELL!"  Even when it is not.  I never like letting your down. I watch you work hard to cover up the flaws I sometimes create in your life.  And then I watch you make everything okay for everyone around you.  I have made decisions that have affected your life in a negative fashion more than once and I am not talking about hip high red boots obviously not age appropriate.... no, I want to tell you how proud I am of you for taking my ishie decisions and turning them around for good or at least dealing with them until they fade into the abyss.  You and I have a fairly large file cabinet of errors in the Abyss State. That is if the Abyss is a State or Country or maybe just another planet in the universe where we get to file (dump) our waste.  Waste of time, waste of energy, waste of spirit, WASTE as in manure.  Worse.  Manure is spread on the earth to help grow vegetation. In our case, "Human Weeds."  No good to no one.  Our manure is spread to hurt us and that is why we send it to the planet of Abyss to contain it.  We must keep our eyes open as there are always new crops around us with manure making there way to us.  I can only pray you have not lost faith in this part of yourself.  ME! No not the manure part....the YOU part.  The ME part.  Everyone has a me inside them that messes up and the older we get the more mess ups we have put forth into our own private Universe. Not to mention the spillovers onto others Universe's.  I am here today to tell you maybe it is time you and I took better care of you.  (Each other) I like you Diane.  And I only want the best for you. Allow me to apologize for any decisions I have made that have hurt you or those around you.  And allow me to thank you for working so diligently with me in this life.  I know I haven't led you to a winning lotto ticket, rather you have found your own way to work overtime instead. Nor have I prized you with the best partner as has been obvious to all.  I have had to take into consideration that on your side of this duo is a woman who life goal is to take care of others.  You are the epitome of a giving loving heart. I have watched you throw yourself into a deep well more than once to save someone rather then throwing them a rope or a buoy.  The good book says to love they neighbor as thyself.  I believe you love yourself in spite of my sometimes incorrect decision making processing in our/your book of life.   You save plants, children, elderly folks, animals, and sometimes others that have more needs then you have to offer.  In fact at times your energy gets drained and that hurts me and you.  So maybe its time we get together, you know, heart and head all in one place all at the same time... I have learned through you that is the proper way to make healthy decisions.  Not one way or the other alone. Not just me or just you alone.   That is like a pizza with no cheese. Or a hamburger with no meat. Somethings turns out missing and leaves a bad or off taste in the pallet.  Another example is an unfinished painting. A car with three wheels.. A massage with no masseuse. A lover with no heart.  People around you with harsh words.
So from this day on you and I are going to work much closer.  And with your sense of humor, reserved and loving heart, and my brains, we can go far sister.  Get your roller skates on its time to move this happy healthy couple of us who have now meshed into one glorious human being. Mwah!
God I love you.  Why thank you. Nice outfit too.  Love Diane

"Son of a Grass Cutter"

Soooo.  I was at the cemetery today sittin' on Mary.  My 6th cousin who passed away at Verona's classy Badger Prairie Mental Asylum in 1918.  She had a child out of wedlock in the 1800's which led to her "Father" taking her child away.   She fell into depression at which time he placed her in Madison's Mendota Mental Hospital...later she was moved to Badger Prairie where she lived out her life.

Today I needed to find a quiet place to do some serious life thinking.  I considered the zoo.....then I decided on the Forest Hill Cemetery and Mary.  I stopped at Metcalf's grocery and bought Mary a rose.  I debated on what color....  That is when I spotted the Melon colored one....that was it without any doubt.  Then I passed a barrel of sample wine bottles... Yup I also grabbed one of those for Mary too.  Bet she never tasted wine in her life.  I was toting my own lunch bag, a rose, a camera, map of the cemetery, a small bottle of wine, and a milk crate to sit on which I did not use due to unleveled ground.

I parked and headed for the plot in area 22 with a plain flat stone saying,  MARY JUNGBLUTH.
That is when I heard two horrendous motors starting.....and running directly for MARY JUNGBLUTH. and me.  Two huge yellow mowers disturbing my peace to say the least.  Not to mention the smell of fresh cut grass which is usually sort of nice but not this time.  Nope, I suspected I would have a lung full of green suet by the time this was over.  As I sat on Mary's stone with my large lunch bag on one side, the milk crate on the other, the rose, the wine, the map and the camera....I thought they would GO AWAY seeing I was a grieving cousin.  Well they did not.  They mowed up to 8 feet from Mary and me.

Had I been a more gutsy and creative today I would have started wailing and screaming in deep grief.  Maybe then they would have left us in peace and moved to another section.  I just sat there saying, "Jesus Crisis anyway."  Maybe the zoo would have been a better  option.  And if those two men on their boy toys throw one stick at me I will sue the sheit out of this place.  They "got" no manners.  Those sons of a grass cutters mother!

I cant eat my lunch. My nose if full of flying green pieces....and my ears are buzzing.  They have headphones on for noise reduction.  Notice no one was handing them out to me.  I came here to hear from the dead regarding my life direction which is bigger then grass cutting.

Finally the rude jerks left but not far enough.  They left their ripe grass odor clearly behind with me.  Terribly rude. 

I placed the rose on Mary's home knowing she probably never got a flower in her entire life.  I also knew the grass eaters would be back because they did leave a 5 foot patch directly at my and Mary's feet.  I just knew they and their yellow machines would blow her rose away.. They were now mowing in the next section but still very loud and intrusive.   I decided to say goodbye to Mary considering I couldn't hear her advice and mosey on down the way..  I stopped and watched the mower man come back and mow right up to Mary's neck.  The rose didn't move...  I knew Mary was hanging onto it!!

I decided to sit on the cement wall up the way from Mary, surrounding the Civil War boys.   I had my lunch, toasted the boys with Mary's sample wine, took some pictures of them and heard what I needed to hear.  Whether you believe me or not.  Doesn't matter. 

I asked them to show me a sign.  I took this photo and as you can see I got what I asked for.....
So.... when I find more Happy News I will be back.  Be well, Be Happy, Be Safe, and get Rich.  Makes it all easier.

Banana Bread II

I have not been writing on this blog for a long time..... I had taken a photo of the slimey banana snot...
Then I forgot to post it!!   Duh.
Here she is snotty nanas and all:

Banana Bread?..............by Diane Ogden

Making banana bread has been a lifelong struggle for me.  Mostly because I gave up trying 45 years ago.  Lately I took on the  dreaded task of re trying.  Too dry, too moist, raw in the middle was the worst and finally I forgot the sugar once.  I haven't given up.  In fact for the raw middle I tried less banana so we didn't feel like we were eating snot.  You know that oatmeally texture eewww.    Raw banana bread in the center...so I Googled what to do.   It said less banana... I tried that and lost the flavor so I stopped at the Organic section of the grocery store and banana flavoring was $8.50 for a small bottle!!  I don't think so.  The next week I checked at my regular grocer and found the standard "McCormick" banana flavoring for $3.50.  Tennie bottle.  I read the ingredients of which were all ARTIFICIAL and bought it anyway. Next time I attempted to make banana bread I used the BRIGHT YELLOW ARTIFICIAL banana flavoring.  OMG is all I can say.  I cannot believe I used that crap...... much less we ate it.  Not to mention it brought back childhood memories of eating those soft banana candies at Aunt Berdie's house.  Ewwww!!

Well.....believe it or not it turned out pretty good.  A little dry.  So this week I tried it again.  I had frozen the banana's because I was sick of trying to make good banana bread. I even considered possibly never doing it again for 45 years.  But just in case I did, I froze those black buggers.  I played busy until they thawed.  Cut the ends off with a scissors and as I attempted to peel the ripe "thang" inside the black peeling. As I peeled, it ever so slowly slid down and out the other end as it folded itself in half all limpy like. (is that a word?) I tell you the truth it looked like I had murdered a living thing or at the least was viewing the birth of something sick and wrong and was going to eat it as well.  The only word that came to my mind was cannibalism.  My significant other was watching the entire show.  I looked up from the massacre only to see his face all scrunched.  He seemed to be sensing my same thoughts.

It was at that exact moment he rose from his stool and exited the room leaving me with the dead and dying.  I gagged a few times as I "folded" the snotty mixture into the bowl of good sugar and eggs.  I could hear  him in the background laughing or maybe he was crying as he realized we are too new a relationship for him to say no to the dead bread. 

I hit the timer and went about some better business such as changing  bedding and eating red ARTIFICIALLY sweetened strawberry twizzlers.  Cant believe I eat those dang things considering they use beetles to color them.  I am not lying.  Its called Carmine (/ˈkɑːrmɪn/ or /ˈkɑːrmaɪn/), also called cochineal, cochineal extract, crimson lake or carmine lake, natural red 4,^[1] C.I. 75470,^[1] or E120.  See I told you!  Gag away...

     So the results are good.  Well, half good.  One is great the other might be a little snotty in the middle.  I wont give up.  But I will buy the organic flavoring no matter the cost next time.

Until then, be safe, be well, and get rich.  You can buy organic banana bread at $12 a loaf.

"Nightlights?"

Nightlights?........

It had been a very special day between my love and myself.  We spent a good portion of time that day walking along the rivers edge .  The sounds of nature had taken us away from the normal daily routine of cars honking, red lights, politics, and of course our jobs.  Somehow the earthly voice of a bird singing can compare only to the Angels we do not get to visualize.  And so it was that day we had regained a certain amount of peace amongst the living. 

We did the usual Jose and lime juice around 4 p.m.  Turned on the television only to turn it back off considering it was the new Jerry Springer now called Dr. Phil.  A young woman gang raped.  Her on one side of old Phil and the gang raper's on he other.  My guy hit the off button as I prepared dinner.

Then it was whirlpool time.  We are old-timer's, no not Alzheimer's.  Our bodies hurt on occasion.  Me with RLS and he with rotator cuff tear and upcoming surgery.  Neither able to sleep very well lately. I was filling the whirlpool with lavender Epsom salts when my significant other asked if I mind if he joined me.  Of course I didn't mind.  Once again we enjoyed a peaceful hour of roaring healing water rushing his shoulder and my legs.  I actually slept well after the Epsom's cleansed my body.  He on the other hand requires a more extensive fix.  An Operation. 

We watched one more show on the television considering we just got about a thousand Cable channels totally by accident along with a totally outrageous bill on purpose.  That took me an hour on the phone to straighten out.  But then we all know what Charter is like.

Finally time came to sleep.  It was dark with a ting of light from the parking lot cascading through the mini blinds of our third floor notsomuch a penthouse. We were cuddling, talking about this and that when I noticed a tiny light on the ceiling.   I didn't say anything to my guy, but I was mesmerized and continued to watch.  It would appear and disappear.  It moved over to the edge of the ceiling light.  Then to another spot.  It was then I swore to God and all his Angels and Mother that I saw a white ghostlike figure move in the hallway by the bathroom.  It was at that precise moment I decided to share the fear running up and down my body with my guy.  Not to mention my brain knowing for sure there was either an entity in the room or heavenly hosts.  I was not sure which.  My guy wrapped his arms around me as though he could ward off demons from other dimensions and I shrunk in his arms as though I believed he could. 

I started to pray.   I used the God given mad mother voice I hadn't heard from my larnyx in about 28 years or so....  I guess I suspected those alien visitors would respond.  I used the name of Jesus.  I used spirit talk, I bound and loosed.  They didn't leave.  We recited the Lords Prayer in unison like two scared little kids  in catechism class.  Or the Lutheran class I graduated from which was not offering up any sort of assistance in this case. Confirmation classes had taught me the benediction, some of the Psalms, the beatitudes and so on.  Not helping in the here and now of it all Pastor! 

Suddenly I said, "Is there a smoke alarm up in that area of the ceiling?"  My guy leaped from our duo fetal position, hit the bedroom light and whalla.  A tiny green light appeared ever so sweet and only now and then.  It then reflected off the ceiling light and other areas that even now as I write I do not understand. Nor do I "get" where the ghostly figure ran off to.  But then I still swear when I was five I saw Santa and ALL his reindeer one Christmas Eve out my bedroom window.  I mean it too!

We were very sad there were no Heavenly visitors to our bedroom that night.  You see when the little light didn't leave upon command of our God.....well that meant they were the good guys.  Almost wish I hadn't found the reality of it all.  We could all use a sign from the heavens now and then.....

Corrections!!

I spent the past week reading Chapter One thru Chapter 21. 
I also figure I must have been possessed at about 13 or somewhere in there.
Run on sentences by the score.  Even I got lost a few times. 
That said, I have corrected.  Sorry for the confusion but my mind takes off and my typing fingers
     cant always keep up.   I usually edit later. 
Working on the ending! 

Dear Chad, Cody, and Chris...............Love Santa By Diane Ogden

Today I was cleaning out the old paper file box.  You know the old way of keeping paperwork. Now days you take a photo of it and file it on your computer.  Unless you find what I did today.  Notes to my children from Santa.....   I failed to put a date on the "elaborate" index cards I used but my guess is 28-30 years ago.  The middle son, Cody, was a very  face paced child. (I did not say hyper!) But he learned a bad word from some of the neighbor kids and found he got unlimited attention when he used it.  I think he was 4 and it was the bad word.....   as the index card from Santa reiterates.
Felt like sharing something from three decades ago from Mama Santa! 

 

 

Sunday Morning ....................................by Diane Ogden

Every Sunday morning I treat myself by raising the head and foot of my fairly new Electric Bed.  I turn on the 32" VIZIO I pay $100 a month to watch while I recall the days I could watch for free.  I click to CBS to watch Sunday Morning with Charles Kuralt. (sp) Where I remain until it ends at 9:30.
Today they did a segment on Steve Harvey.  I enjoy watching Steve Harvey any time of the day or night.  He makes me laugh.  He is wise.  He is quite the charismatic person. And I do not care how many times he was married. (3)!  So have I.  I really should try to get that one right.
 He told how he grew up eating mayonnaise and bread sandwiches because they were poor.  I sat up farther in my electric bed, if that is even possible, thinking I should call my mother immediately to see how poor we really were considering I ate mayonnaise sandwiches for years.  I would guess from age 7 through 12 years old.  Along with hot chocolate and toast or pancakes for breakfast every day.   As well as my father required a desert after each meal.  My fav was the Mayonnaise Chocolate cake with fluffy white frosting that I would add to my breakfast routine whenever possible.  No wonder I have hypoglycemia!! 

1 cup water

1 cup mayonnaise

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

2 cups all-purpose flour

1 cup sugar

3 tablespoons baking cocoa

2 teaspoons baking soda

Pour into greased 9-in. square or 11-in. x 7-in. baking pan. Bake at 350° for 30-35 minutes or until a toothpick inserted near the center comes out clean. Cool completely.

Read more: http://www.tasteofhome.com/recipes/chocolate-mayonnaise-cake#ixzz3PBq7Lajs

 

About the only thing of value in that cake was the cocoa!  So much for wonderful childhood memories that have caused me terrible issues.  Not to worry, I found a East Side Ovens of Milwaukee.  They make vegan brownies of which I partake on the weekend.  But only ONE.

At the end of Sunday Morning there was a segment on beef jerky.  Suddenly another vivid memory comes charging into my head, or my heart?  My Granddaddy had the first bison ranch in Texas in the 1950's.  Or so he told me.  He also told me he rode with Poncho Via.  Regardless, he did make the best bison jerky I have ever eaten.  He was quite the cook.  His jerky wasn't full of fillers, or artificial flavors or GMO corn syrup.  I can almost taste it as I type it.  Genuine Bison Jerky.  And now there is a company producing the same natural bison jerky as my Granddaddy used to make.  I can recall the large metal smoker tank where he cooked the meat as well as a small house where he would hang the meat pieces to dry.  We would beg for more. 
Nowadays I peer at the beef jerky in its fancy labeled small packages at the grocery store as I walk on past before any gag reflex sets in.  When you've had the best, the worst wont do.
The photo is Granddad's buffalo ranch.  I have a newspaper article about he and the ranch but it is buried in the ancestor file box....along with the family genealogy. 

 

 

                                                His Cookhouse....

                                         He was a cook during the War.  I still have his aviator Sunglasses
                                                       and his dog tags and a beautiful white silk scarf.  I
                                             "wonder"  sometimes who will I pass them on to.
                                          No one else remembers him from the new generation.
                                                             Where will they end up?

 

Chop. Chop. Chop.......................by Diane Ogden

Many of my friends as well as acquaintances believe I am a bit "anal" regarding my hair.  For instance, nearly every time I have gotten it cut the past few years I am beyond upset for two months.  Let me give you a couple examples:  (I don't believe I am anal. I believe beauticians are taught the latest style and have no real artist ability any longer!!)  They cut the sides long, the back short.  I have gotten modified mullets, dog ear cuts, the last one I looked like Moe from the three stooges.

This was the last CUT!!  I pulled the bottom back into a long ponytail.  I have natural wavy hair that obviously shouldn't be cut like that~  I couldn't do much with it for two months. 

Below is another fiasco.

Sooooo.   Today I cut it myself which I swore I would never do again.  I watched some tutorials on You Tube and set out for the bathroom and the sharpest pair of scissors in the house.  I blocked off all the proper sections but did have a hard time with the back!  I suspect it is not a precision cut.  Joke of the week.  Given my hair is very thick it wont show. (I hope)  At this time it is drying.  And if I have any complaints it will be on me this time.  And it didn't cost me $45.00.

That would be about four months growth!  No regrets......STOP! I said, No regrets! 

The Rose.......................by Diane Ogden

I enjoy the look of roses as well as the feel and smell of each one.  They remind me of antiques, pearls, lace, gentleness and peace of mind.  Riches. A calm and safe place.  Beauty of every color. Velvet.

One of my clients is an artist.  She  enjoys painting people, landscapes, and animals in her spare time.  One day I spotted one of her finished canvas's.  It was a pink rose and pink is my favorite color.  I asked her if I could buy it from her.  She wasn't sure, but added maybe later.  I assumed  she may have had an upcoming art show. 

A couple visits later I told her I would like to buy that for myself as a Birthday gift.  I always buy myself something nice for my birthday. After all it is MY birthday.

Yesterday came and it was time for my bi weekly visit to Fran Klos.  When it came time for her to pay me for my services I told her to make the check out for $100 less as it was time for me to buy her beautiful Pink Rose for my Birthday gift.  She responded with, "Absolutely not, you may have that for your Birthday!"  I was shocked.  I am still not sure what I said as I am used to being the one that gives so when receiving, especially at that level, I was at a loss for words.   I think I said the standard OMG.  How classlessly tacky huh?  I may have said gosh vs God.  I probably added something like, "Oh you don't have to do that."  Jeepers I wish I would have stuck with OMG.   I recall her saying, "I am pleased to give this to you Diane."    And so I appropriately said, "Thank You Fran, this makes me very happy."

And so I drove home with great anticipation of hanging the precious gift, "My Rose."

 

 

The Fullest Pampers Box in the World................by Diane Ogden

For some time now I have needed to send my son in California a few items.  With the UPS and or FED X and or Post Office Rates going up up lately I sort of put it off.  The last time at the Post Office I inquired how much a certain weight would be to ship to Cali.  They estimated ten pounds for $35.00.  Not bad... I had expected it to cost a lot more. 

I boxed the items up in a Pampers box and headed for the Post Office.  The nice Postal employee-man who I have gotten to know over the years gave me the total and then checked my taping to his satisfaction.  As he tallied up the  I mentioned to him what was in the small box.  He looked at me with utter disbelief.  That is when I told him my son had better get those items out of that box a.s.a.p. next Friday or they will never be the same again.  After he agreed we both laughed at the craziness of how I got all those items in that small box along with a jar of my son's favorite cookies.

One J.Crew Navy Pea Coat: Size LARGE

One Columbia Winter Coat lined, for his camping trips:  Size LARGE

Three Banana Republic Silk Cashmere Sweaters:  Black, Grey, Plum. Size LARGE

And two very nice button down shirts:  Pink and White for under the million dollar sweaters.  
One pickle jar of Gma Tillie's German Pfieffernut Cookies.

EIGHT ITEMS:  I rolled the two coats up and stood them upright leaving a small space in the center of the box. I put the cookies between the two shirts I placed between the two coats  in the empty space. I did have to push pretty hard.  The three sweaters lay flat on top of everything.    (The size of the box also kept the cost down.)

Not very interesting huh?  Yet fascinating indeed.  I can pack a UHaul just as good. Not that that is any major human feat.  Hey, some people cant do it. 

I can now mark that off my list of to-do's.  It will arrive next Friday and hopefully the items will regain their shape as well as my son will DRY CLEAN those amazingly expensive sweaters!!

Til next time:   Be Well, Be Safe, Be Happy, and get rich so you can ship the scrunched up coats and such OVERNIGHT!  Not really.  That would have cost more than the clothes all put together were worth! 

Coffee Jolts ......................by Diane Ogden

It's Friday. I was happy to get home after a long week.  Had some hidden thoughts about doing nothing for two days until I noticed the kitty litter needed some serious refreshing in terms of a trip to the Pet Store for more Dr. Elsey's litter, which is the best I have ever experienced.  Not that I have really experienced using it of course, rather the time it lasts for my two felines.

I then cleaned the kitchen for the weekend and noticed I needed to water my several plants.  That reminded me of the time someone told me to give my plants some coffee.  It will make them happy just like it does us.  I happened to have some real coffee left in the cupboard from last year so I made a full 12 oz. cup which I then poured  on one of my plants.  I walked back to the kitchen and made another 12 oz. cup and poured that on another plant.  Then another, and two trees, and finally a spider plant and a palm. 

Suddenly the apartment smelled like hot dirt.  The smell of Hot Dirt does not smell very good. 

It was then I remembered why I had that plastic tub of real coffee left in the cupboard.  I cant drink real coffee.  It makes me sort of crazy!  I then thought to myself, as I looked up into the sun room waiting for the trees and potted plants to start making noises or moving around like the wind was blowing when it really wasn't, that they might get weird and crazy somehow.  I mean that is what coffee does to me and my friend told me to give coffee to my plants because they would have the same reaction as I do.  Little did that friend know I could end up at the E.R.  after a cup of coffee.  Its called ANXIETY.   So far no plants have freaked out, wilted, or died.  In fact they look real real happy. 

Wonder what would happen if I tried to make them happy with a Margarita!   
Probably not 12 oz. though.  I cant even do that.   I do wonder if I overdosed them with the coffee thing.  My friend did say to pour my leftovers on the plants. She didn't mention making each one a pot. (or a large cup) 

Not to worry, I wont be pouring Margarita's on my trees, or giving them coffee again in the near future (unless they grow a foot this month).  I might try pickle juice though.  They say that is amazing in many ways.  What I wont be doing is putting anymore chemicals on them or me.  They are a living thing like myself and my animals.  So I am doing some testing on my living plants.  If they die I may not drink coffee anymore ever.  I will change to Green Tea for my Tree's.

So for now, Be Safe, Be Happy, Be Healthy, and get RICH, so can counter act the KOCK Brothers takeover of our country.  You know?  The old fogies who are fracking our earth, using Roundup on our crops trying to kill us so they can make billions!  Or maybe use your money to move to an island or Norway.  They say that is the best place to live and where you can live the longest.  I wonder why?
Maybe no RoundUp there!  I betcha. 

Nite!

Open House..........................by Diane Ogden

I have this really sweet High School friend, well she was not a High School friend, but since the invention of facebook we have re- connected and are now friends.  God that was not a necessary explanation or was it?

So my friend is having an open house for her live in Father's 90th Birthday. (Bless her care taking heart!)
Fact number two or three is she lives 1.5-2 hours north of where I live in a super nice log cabin home.  With food.
That being said, I have been planning on surprising her with a visit to her open house.  Even considered inviting another of our H.S. friends along for the ride. 
But then..... I googled how to get there without driving the INTERSTATE which causes me undo anxiety due to feelings of abandonment when I see too far ahead where the road "don't" end.   Yes I know the proper grammar is, doesn't end.  So I googled GPS to her home without Highways.  The time would be approximately two hours up, an hour sitting or standing around eating due to lack of knowing anyone, and two hours back. Not that I do not know how to mingle.  Also having to cross one long bridge over water which could ultimately kill me due to my total fear of dying in water.  I know I know....fear it and it will come.  So erase that please. 
I have decided it would be and is more enjoyable calling her on occasion from a grocery store parking lot with news of this and that.  We both laugh much during these phone calls.  No bridges over water, no guilt on her end for not having time to sit / babysit me and whoever I convinced to take the trek with me.  I will say if I were retired and more laid back I would go, relax, eat a bit, stay longer, and get back home before dark considering I was the 1% whose cataract surgery messed up.  I  cant see to drive at night and would drive off the bridge and die in my most feared way.  Erase that .....now.  
Am I kidding?  Maybe. 
Have an amazing open house my friend!!  I will be thinking of you and yours while I bake cookies.
Be Safe, Be Well, Be Happy and get rich so you can hire a driver who isn't afraid to cross bridges! (over water)

ANOTHER WORLD.................by Diane Ogden

It was late evening when I departed Missouri headed for even deeper southern parts of this country with its so called freedom of everything. Somehow lately that was becoming a trend of the past. Government seemed to be taking over in an undercover manner that reminded me of the MAFIA days in the sixties. Same deal, different year. No public gunshots and bloodshed at the bars of brotherly love in Chicago and New York. No this takeover of the masses was not as smooth as it was hidden behind congressional doors. I paid as little attention to it as I could considering my inability to stop it. I did wonder on occasion, should I store up some water jugs and cans of tuna just in case. In case of what? I was never sure of what. I heard tell of secret concentration camps for the poor and those who didn't agree with the new world and their antics. Conspiracy theorist? No I was never one of those. But hey, come on, I wasn't blind either. Most people with any sense knew change was on the horizon and it wasn't coming from the then black President. The country was being run by old fogies hiding in the underworld of what we used to call democracy.
I had not traveled even midway toward my destination when my car broke down. I was in a small town in Oklahoma. I had all my papers in order for the border crossing into Mexico as well as I had purchased a beautiful villa on the coast, from a friend. That friend had made his way to Australia. One of the few less ruled countries in the world. Nevertheless, there I was in little
"timbuck40" calling for a wrecker and feeling very alone on the side of the road in the middle of no where'sville. The wrecker arrived within a half hour. A pleasant surprise to see a tiny little woman climb down from the cab greeting me with the standard, "Howdie do." Why she looked to be the size of a twelve year old. I had to giggle to myself. After all the necessary vehicle security hook ups we climbed into the cab headed for Okmulgee. I know, it sounds like the name of an old army stew. Rather it means bubbling water. This from Wikipedia: Okmulgee, city, seat (1907) of Okmulgee county, east-central Oklahoma, U.S. It lies near the Deep Fork of the North Canadian River, south of Tulsa. Its name (meaning "bubbling water") comes from a Creek Indian town in Alabama. It was the capital of the Creek Nation from 1868 until Oklahoma achieved statehood in 1907. Settled by whites about 1889, Okmulgee boomed after the discovery of oil in 1904 and is now a commercial and industrial centre for oil and gas production and agriculture (pecans, cotton, corn [maize], cattle). The manufacture of oil-field equipment, electronic equipment, small aircraft, and glass is also important. Oklahoma State University at Okmulgee (1946) is one of the largest U.S. technical colleges. Okmulgee Lake Recreational Area is to the west. Inc. 1908. Pop. (2000) 13,022; (2010) 12,321.

On our ride back to the city the woman told me all about herself. She had seven children. She owned the local tire store with an attached vehicle repair center. Her husband had run off a few years back and instead of wallowing in the self pity of it all, she started her own business. She then listed to me one by one each of her children's ages and duties. She had some dandy stories to tell me during our forty minute trek back. It was hard to get a word in edgewise, even so, there was much laughter in the cab of that shiny yellow tow truck that day. Upon arrival at the repair shop she offered me a loaner vehicle, at a price of course.


It was wheat harvesting time in that area. I had taken a drive out and about the countryside while my car was being repaired. There really wasn't much to see in that part of the country. Not until I came to pass a field appearing to have been partially flooded. Flooded with something besides rainwater. It looked like milk. A huge field of mashed down wheat soaking in milk. Oddest thing I had ever seen. I slowed down to the point I was creeping along about ten mph. There was a curve in the road and as I rounded that bend there stood two white animals. They were actually two of the most beautiful creatures I had ever seen. I knew I shouldn't stop and get out but I had to. Some force other than anything I had ever known was pulling me toward those animals. The thick milky substance in the field, and he odd looking animals, should have been totally creeped me out and I should have driven away as fast as humanly possible, but I did not. As I walked toward them I again noticed something odd. Their eyes were shining like tiny stars. Was I dreaming? No. I reached out to the smaller one what appeared to be a cow. The other was a large dog. Both very similar in size. I know, weird right? Each time I touched one of the animals it felt like I was in another world. A peace came over me that I had never experienced on this earth. I began to feel frightened. I backed away and I drove on searching for more white covered fields and or animals but there were no more. That is when I saw a ranch house and pulled in the driveway. I was in need of sharing my findings. There were several vehicles parked around the house and outer buildings so I felt rather safe. I am not sure why because at that point I should have been calling the authorities. The next thought was why? What would I tell them? Maybe something like :

"Hi, my name is, and I just passed a wheat field soaking in milk and two very peace filled white animals with sparkling stars for eyes." Ya right. Call the padded wagon people for sure.

So what did I tell the people who lived in this ranch house? Same deal? I knocked at the front entrance. I stood there for what seemed too long when a man finally answered the door. I recited my name as though that would be all I would need to do and he would understand the entire story. Of course not. Funny what our minds do to us when we are nervous and wish to escape. I proceeded to ask him what the milky substance in the wheat field adjacent to his residence was. And I thought possibly he had misplaced a couple of animals. He looked at me strangely not saying a word. I pressed my lips thin and raised my eyebrows in an expression as to say, "Well?"

He answered with, "Maam, I don't know what you are talking about."

I carefully and slowly reiterated what I had seen in the fields regarding the white milk and the animals, at which time he hollered very loudly for his brother Chetley. Yes Chetley. Who names their kid Chetley? But then who tells a story like I just had told to Chetley's wiener brother! Yes that was either my humorous side regarding the wiener brother or fear. Maybe both as I am seeing something strange in the eyes of the brothers and it "ain't" stars. They are thinking there may be a crazy lady at their door, yet her story needed to be checked out. They invited me inside and introduced me to the rest of the family. Said they were going to go investigate my story and I was welcome to stay until their return. I accepted. Sometimes in life it would be helpful to be able to see ahead just a few hours! If I could have done that my decision to stay would have been a very different one.

About thirty minutes had passed when Chetley and wiener hustled back into the ranch house with such intensity I felt twinges of anxiety rushing through my veins. They instructed the family to gather all necessary belongings along with family photos and load the vehicles.

I said, "Wait, why, what did you find out there?"

Chetley told me to stay in the living room and they would come and get me when the cars were loaded and it was time to leave. And then they systematically moved about the house and yard readying themselves for what appeared to be a long vacation. Inside I knew different. Something big was happening and I was smack dab in the middle of it. But what? I paced for a bit, sat for a bit, even turned on the television trying to disengage my brain and find that peace I had back near the "Milk Field."

As the TV came on saying "SPECIAL BULLETIN FROM NBC NEWS." The cars pulled out of the driveway without me! And before I could run outside to join them, a helicopter was over the ranch house with a loud speaker saying anyone left inside was not to leave the area. The area was now under quarantine. I whirled around toward the TV and there was my loaner car and the ranch house in grand 52 inch view. Who would ever need a 52 inch TV anyway?

Gathering my wits about me had not worked. I opened the front door only to see men in huge white suits covered from head to toe. Oxygen tanks in tow. Oh my dear God what is happening? The men told me I was under quarantine orders from the United States department of defense. Defense? I asked why please. They said they weren't able to give me any information at this time but that the quarantine was indefinite. They would be in contact with me if I needed anything in the meantime.

Meantime? Indefinite? Are you fricking serious? I started running through the house out of shear fear and panic. Then to the kitchen to see what food was available for indefinite which to me meant the same as the word infinity when I used to try to figure that out as a child. I had my phone but the charger was in the car. Was I allowed to go to my car? Then the tanks arrived. Yes army tanks outside on the County Road such and such. It was obvious this woman, me, was going no where.

The TV was now giving me more information than the authorities. It showed the field of thick milky substances and the two white peace-filled animals. Then the ranch house and my vehicle. I wanted to go to the front door and wave at the camera's but thought I had best not do that. I was a foreigner in these parts. I only said "howdie do" a couple times and that was just a mere attempt to fit in. Well I had found a way to never fit in, hadn't I?

The nights darkness came swiftly. Something I hadn't thought about in all the ruckus of helicopters, news crews, police and fire trucks.... and then they all disappeared. NBC Bulletin said the foreign white substance could be deadly and the only human being that touched it was in quarantine inside the ranch house on County Road such and such. Why I was terrified. Not of death from the substance, but of human beings coming to get rid of the only person to have touched the goo. I knew the goo wasn't bad. It was white and peaceful. Nothing like I had ever felt or touched.

Weariness had settled upon me. I fell into a deep sleep in the big old brown leather recliner. I left the television running as it helped the loneliness of the situation. Did the government think it was a disease? Who put it there? How did the two animals get there and why?

Just then a beautiful man appeared before me. I believe I was dreaming. Or was I? He told me "they" were from Another World and not to be afraid. The milky substance was their creation given to us, the U.S. as an antidote to the latest killing virus Ebola. The government would never know where it came from or why. Only I had been allowed that information.

I asked why me? The kind loving man told me because it was my time to have that special peace everlasting. I had been chosen because I was the closest human being to the area when it was sprayed. No one would have ever known if I hadn't told the rancher man. And by touching the animals I had received a dosage of anti viral medicine beyond the level any human could endure.... I would be leaving with the men in white and the two animals for everlasting life elsewhere. I had no fear. The peace I felt from the other world didn't exist anywhere I had ever lived or traveled here. I asked what about the people left here? Shouldn't we tell them about the healing from Ebola?

He smiled and said, "No my dear, they wouldn't believe. Each of them will come to a time in their lives such as you have this day. Their time to go to Another World and have everlasting peace. Are you ready to go now?"

And so we did, and it was forever peacefully beautiful.

Amen.

Liz-Sport in 1984.................by Diane Ogden

I visited my Nana in or around 1984.  She took me shopping as she had since I was seven. (On various occasions until I moved away.)   This time I was around thirty seven and visiting her from out of town.  (I cannot recall my exact age but that is very close)   We went to Dillard's, which is comparable to our Boston Store, North of the Mason Dixon Line.  Yankee's that we are.  Me, I'm a half-breed.  Raised half my life below the Mason Dixon Line and half above it. 

Back to Dillard's.  We had a lovely shopping excursion along with a fine lunch. 

My Nana passed away about twelve years later.  I had moved back to Wisconsin in 1988 and never saw her again.  But I still have the sweater she bought me that shopping day back when. 

The sweater is a Liz-Sport.  I am having it dry cleaned this month.  No need to frame it like some would the #4 Packer jersey.  It got a bit musty from the storage bin at my complex.  Not enough circulation.  I shall hand it down to a family member one of these days.  It is nice to have something tangible to remind me of what a fine woman she was.  She taught me what true class means. She was engaged to Gene Autry.  I know I shared that before.  But then I could have/should have slept with Buck Owens and sat on one of those swings on Hee Haw, but I did not.  God my Dad would have been so proud.  LOL.  I am laughing out loud too. 

                                                 Buelah (Pat) Morrison     Austin, Texas

"My Sweet Willie".........a short story .................by Diane Ogden

"Sweet Willie" 

I was there.  I was there when the radio blared war in our kitchen. We were seated at the table about to say a blessing upon the thick, I think German, macaroni and cheese casserole Mom had prepared.  We, being my brother Jackson, and I, Julianna.

When Father held up his notorious hand it always meant, SILENCE!  That is when we heard the voice of the President of the United States coming across the radio airways with the chill of an icicle on each word he spoke. 

I kept interrupting saying, “Father, does that mean Willie, does it?  Will he have to go?” 

Dad just gave me that old angry I mean it eyebrow crunch, hand up signal. I sat in silence listening to the terrifying words.  My mind racing in so many different directions I lost myself to the place of tears.  Mom was standing behind  Jackson, her baby, crying in like manner.  At first I wasn’t mentally aware of what was happening.  The radio, Fathers anger, Mom crying, Willie, where was Willie?  And to hell with the macaroni and cheese dinner.  I suddenly sprang from my chair running toward the phone.  I lifted the mouthpiece only to find the operator telling everyone they would have to wait their turns. Then a sound that mimicked busy busy busy.  Running or even biking to Willie’s would be faster than waiting for the darn operator.  Once my wits were back I realized those phones would not be available for a month now that war had been declared.  That is when I heard the loud whaling voice of my mother behind me.  “Julianna, wait.  Wait.”  I ignored her and with one hard push I hit the pavement running.  Running to Willie.

Willie and I had been best friends all through grade school and into Jr. High School and High School. We had been through all the normal schoolyard games such as marbles, hoops, skipping, chasing's, hidings. Sometimes I would join the girls for hopscotch and jacks.  Willie would play ball and chase.  We even ate lunch together almost every day.  The other children made fun of us the first few years and then settled in knowing it was probably always going to be this way.  Willie and Julianna. 

Now I am not just running.  I am running scared.  Running for my life.  For Willie.  At the 4^th Street Exchange I saw him.  I saw Willie running just as hard and fast as I was.  He had to have heard the news about the same time we all did and as usual we had the same thoughts.  Finding each other.  I fell into his arms sobbing.  We both knew he would have to go fight a war we were too young to know much about.  We would soon realize he was a direct part of it and I was a direct extension of it and all the pain that comes with war.  We walked slowly back to my house arm in arm and the closer we got, it became clear the shadow standing at the front door was my mother waiting for me.  Her remarks were swift and harsh.  She found my interest in Willie overshadowing the fact my own brother would also be leaving.  And possibly our Father.  She was right.  I hadn’t thought beyond my Willie. 

And then he was gone.  I would sing to my Sweet Willie for the next forty years until I would finally meet him in the great beyond.

 I'll be comin home to you Sweet Willie,

I'm comin home to you..

Please don't fear Sweet Willie,

The Time is near,

I'm coming home to you...

For the War is old and forgotten by many...

 It took you from me too soon..

So be patient dear and please do not fear...

I'm comin home to you....

 We have a love that's forever and deep as the sea,

With eagerness I await thee...

Be it death or life, be it you or me...

I'm comin home to you...

 Where the valley light meets the dusk of day,

I'm comin home to you....

 I will never stop till the day is nay...

Where I meet you on the other side...

Be it floods or famine or a gunshot wound,

I welcome the end in sight.

 For my love is like the ocean deep

For it brings us always for keeps....

I'll be comin home to you sweet Willie,

I'm comin home to you...

 When the grass is green and the fields are yellow..

I'll be comin home to you....

I’ll be comin home to you… Sweet Willie

(Photo from WWII The Huffington Post)  I wrote the above short story and the song.  I sing it often and have for many years.  I do believe I lived this story in my past.  And I do believe I will be going home to my Willie some day.  There is but a veil between reality and the typed words from my heart.