It is almost Christmas. Less than a week away in fact. Since it is really cold outside I have decided to spent the day inside, tending the fire to keep the house warm and keep the heater from coming on again. I have the History channel on, but I’m not really paying attention to it. I am letting my mind wonder a bit to Christmases’ past. Several I remember happened in the sixties. One Christmas day it was so hot out, that we all had shorts on! I can still hear my one Uncle kidding my Dad about having to cut the grass.
But just a few years latter, we had a very unexpected snow storm. That one I remember with more detail. The whole family decided to go to the store to get those last minute things that always come up. When we left the house, it was cool out, 50’s, and no storm was expected at all. We were in the store about an hour or so when people started to make a mass exit from the building. We looked out and were surprised to nothing but white. Time to head for the car and home. Didn’t make the car, to many accidents on the ice and snow! So we walked home, about 2 miles. None of us were dressed for a winter storm at all. That was one long, cold, slippery walk. I think we ended up with about a foot and a half of snow that year for Christmas.
Another one that I will never forget was the year I made and gave my older brother a quilt for Christmas. I worked on it after school and weekends. It was started in October and the last stitch was put in on Christmas eve. I used pieces of material from clothing that any member of the family would recognize. My Grandmother apron, my grandfather’s shirt, Dad’s pajamas, etc, etc. the backing was fake fur of a reddish color. The quilt was knotted using a gray yarn. The colors were chosen because of his school colors, high school and college.
Christmas morning, everyone is opening their presents. My brother, not finding anything from me under the tree, jokingly (?) said something about me being to cheap to get him something. With that I reach behind the sofa and grab the quilt which I then throw at him. He slowly opens it out to see that it is queen size and that he knew where each piece of material came from. With a tear in his eye, he asks if it is for him and did I make it.
A few years later, my brother married and a few years after that they started their family. I can remember visiting them one fall and hearing my niece ask my Mother to “read” the quilt to her. The quilt was made at least forty years ago, so I don’t think it is still around. But that year, the year of the quilt, I got the present of a life time. I made my brother cry and I caused him to be speechless at the same time.
Sunday, December 20, 2009
Saturday, December 19, 2009
Wringer Washer
This past week my hubby and I went looking for a new washing machine. The one I have been using is an old wringer washer. I had bought it about 20 years ago because my Mother wanted one. It was used when I got it, just refurbished. When the washer before the wringer went, my hubby thought I was totally insane when I told him to bring the wringer up from my Dad’s house.
This wasn’t the first time I used a wringer to do all my laundry wasn’t the second or third time either. I think I first learned to do laundry using a wringer. That was way back when I was in junior high. Before I was in high school, both hands had gone through the wringer (not at the same time of course) and my then long hair had gotten cough in it at least twice. I don’t know which hurt most, the hands or the pulling of my hair. At least nothing got broken and there was no bleeding.
When I was married to my first husband, we (I) had a wringer also. Both when we lived in Italy and when we lived with his father. Nothing exciting about the wringer in Italy, it was in the kitchen of the apartment we were renting. But the one at his father’s house was really interesting. We had only cold running water, no hot water heater. And the wringer was on the back porch year round. We lived in the mountains outside of Bloomsburg, PA. My daughter was about three and my son was one. So I had diapers to do. And it was cold in the winter, and the water was even colder. I usually had to get the blow torch to thaw the water pipe so the cold water would flow in the winter.
I know if I had had a choice when my kids were little, I would not have had a wringer. But the choice was not mine to make. The choice was my ex-mother-in-laws. She may not have lived there in that house, but she ruled it. What she said is what you did. No ands ifs or buts about it.
I don’t want anyone to take this the wrong way, but I’m glad that there is automatic washers now. And that they don’t have to be that expensive, unless you want one with a lot of bells and whistles. Me, I’m happy getting a used washer. Hubby wanted to go a regular store and look into getting a new washer. And he dangled the idea of getting a stackable washer/dryer unit. I wanted to go to the Rescue Mission (everything id donated and the monies made from selling goes to help the needy) to see what they had.
At the Mission, they didn’t have one I wanted, but they were expecting one. And they were sure that I would be very happy with it. How did they know that I would like the one coming in next week? We deal with the Mission a lot. During the summer, my hubby’s garden keeps them in fresh veggies. Anyway, we left a deposit and are now waiting for them to call us. I don’t mind using the wringer I have, but it will be so nice to have an automatic again.
This wasn’t the first time I used a wringer to do all my laundry wasn’t the second or third time either. I think I first learned to do laundry using a wringer. That was way back when I was in junior high. Before I was in high school, both hands had gone through the wringer (not at the same time of course) and my then long hair had gotten cough in it at least twice. I don’t know which hurt most, the hands or the pulling of my hair. At least nothing got broken and there was no bleeding.
When I was married to my first husband, we (I) had a wringer also. Both when we lived in Italy and when we lived with his father. Nothing exciting about the wringer in Italy, it was in the kitchen of the apartment we were renting. But the one at his father’s house was really interesting. We had only cold running water, no hot water heater. And the wringer was on the back porch year round. We lived in the mountains outside of Bloomsburg, PA. My daughter was about three and my son was one. So I had diapers to do. And it was cold in the winter, and the water was even colder. I usually had to get the blow torch to thaw the water pipe so the cold water would flow in the winter.
I know if I had had a choice when my kids were little, I would not have had a wringer. But the choice was not mine to make. The choice was my ex-mother-in-laws. She may not have lived there in that house, but she ruled it. What she said is what you did. No ands ifs or buts about it.
I don’t want anyone to take this the wrong way, but I’m glad that there is automatic washers now. And that they don’t have to be that expensive, unless you want one with a lot of bells and whistles. Me, I’m happy getting a used washer. Hubby wanted to go a regular store and look into getting a new washer. And he dangled the idea of getting a stackable washer/dryer unit. I wanted to go to the Rescue Mission (everything id donated and the monies made from selling goes to help the needy) to see what they had.
At the Mission, they didn’t have one I wanted, but they were expecting one. And they were sure that I would be very happy with it. How did they know that I would like the one coming in next week? We deal with the Mission a lot. During the summer, my hubby’s garden keeps them in fresh veggies. Anyway, we left a deposit and are now waiting for them to call us. I don’t mind using the wringer I have, but it will be so nice to have an automatic again.
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
Help Posting Pictures
I was told that I needed to add some visual to this blog that I am attempting to do. And they are right. I have tons of pictures I could be using. If I only knew how to get it done, but nothing I do works. Pictures that I have saved on my computer have disappeared when I have attempted to incorporate them into a posting or article or whatever you call each one of these that I‘m writing and you are reading. And by disappear, I mean just that. They are no where to be found, not on the computer or in my postings. Don’t ask me what I’m doing because I have no idea.
It took me a while to figure out how to do a link, and that was easy for me to get the hang of. It only took a week or two. So, until I can figure out the picture thing, you will be stuck with links. And I can do a lot of links if I wanted to. I have kind of gotten used to the idea of searching the web for things. Well, that is now that I think I have hang of that.
My granddaughter is always putting pictures on MySpace. Okay, some of them are side ways. But she is doing it! And from her cell phone no less! Me, I can’t the pictures off my phone no matter what I do. And for me to try to text, well, lets just say there isn’t enough time, either on the phone or in a day, for me to even get started. Besides, I can probably talk faster than I could text. I know I can talk faster than I can type and I type about 70 words per minute.
So if anyone out there wants pictures, I will need a lot of help. Start sending me your instructions and I will try them. And if someone does send instructions and they work, I’ll give you credit for it in the posting that has my first picture in it. But you had better hurry, I’ve been searching the web for answers.
But I seriously believe the I will be the one to finally gets the answers needed while searching the web. Why? Because I don’t really believe anyone out there reads these things. And if someone is reading this, it is because they can’t sleep and are bored out of their minds. It would be nice to know that I am wrong though.
It took me a while to figure out how to do a link, and that was easy for me to get the hang of. It only took a week or two. So, until I can figure out the picture thing, you will be stuck with links. And I can do a lot of links if I wanted to. I have kind of gotten used to the idea of searching the web for things. Well, that is now that I think I have hang of that.
My granddaughter is always putting pictures on MySpace. Okay, some of them are side ways. But she is doing it! And from her cell phone no less! Me, I can’t the pictures off my phone no matter what I do. And for me to try to text, well, lets just say there isn’t enough time, either on the phone or in a day, for me to even get started. Besides, I can probably talk faster than I could text. I know I can talk faster than I can type and I type about 70 words per minute.
So if anyone out there wants pictures, I will need a lot of help. Start sending me your instructions and I will try them. And if someone does send instructions and they work, I’ll give you credit for it in the posting that has my first picture in it. But you had better hurry, I’ve been searching the web for answers.
But I seriously believe the I will be the one to finally gets the answers needed while searching the web. Why? Because I don’t really believe anyone out there reads these things. And if someone is reading this, it is because they can’t sleep and are bored out of their minds. It would be nice to know that I am wrong though.
Friday, December 4, 2009
The Knox Verdict
I am very deeply saddened by Amada Knox’s verdict. But I shouldn’t be surprised by it. Italy, and its people, are not true friends of the United States or its citizens. I can say that because I lived there for two and one half years. And if you do not agree, then you have not lived there among its people.
The people there were very eager to condemn all Americans for any and all actions committed by others. They were also very eager to take whatever the could from us by any means necessary.
They have three prices for everything. The lowest is for its citizens, the middle is for the rest of the Europeans (tourist, is what they are called), and the highest is for all Americans. And the difference between the lowest and the highest can be as little as $5, or as much as $300 and sometimes even higher. That is true in rent, utilities, food and anything else you would want to, or need to buy there. And being able to speak the language won’t help you at all either.
One of the “sports” over there is to see if they, the Italians, can frighten the Americans enough to make them leave their apartment so that they can go in and trash it. And once they get into it, they trash everything. Not steal anything, just trash and destroy everything in it. By trash and destroy I mean just that. Smash all the food jars, puncture cans, tip the refrigerator over, rip up all the clothing and shits, urinate anywhere they can, and the list goes on and on.
No, this did not happen to me over there. But then we put extra locks on all the doors and no one else had the keys. Our landlady was not very happy about that at all, but we did it anyway. And I believe that is the main reason we were spared. But I do know several people that it did happen to while I was living there. One was less than a block away, and it happened while they were visiting us and in broad daylight!
From everything I have been able to read about Knox’s trial, the only thing that Amanda did was go to Italy to study. Everything that the prosecution brought forward was fabricated. Either in their own minds or someone else’s. Probably the police, they were of no help to us Americans when I was living there and I don’t think they have changed at all since I left there. If anything they have gotten worse.
My heart goes out to Amanda and her family and friends. I will pray for them each and every day, just as I have been since I first heard about the case. May God give you the strength to get through the days, weeks, months and years to come.
The people there were very eager to condemn all Americans for any and all actions committed by others. They were also very eager to take whatever the could from us by any means necessary.
They have three prices for everything. The lowest is for its citizens, the middle is for the rest of the Europeans (tourist, is what they are called), and the highest is for all Americans. And the difference between the lowest and the highest can be as little as $5, or as much as $300 and sometimes even higher. That is true in rent, utilities, food and anything else you would want to, or need to buy there. And being able to speak the language won’t help you at all either.
One of the “sports” over there is to see if they, the Italians, can frighten the Americans enough to make them leave their apartment so that they can go in and trash it. And once they get into it, they trash everything. Not steal anything, just trash and destroy everything in it. By trash and destroy I mean just that. Smash all the food jars, puncture cans, tip the refrigerator over, rip up all the clothing and shits, urinate anywhere they can, and the list goes on and on.
No, this did not happen to me over there. But then we put extra locks on all the doors and no one else had the keys. Our landlady was not very happy about that at all, but we did it anyway. And I believe that is the main reason we were spared. But I do know several people that it did happen to while I was living there. One was less than a block away, and it happened while they were visiting us and in broad daylight!
From everything I have been able to read about Knox’s trial, the only thing that Amanda did was go to Italy to study. Everything that the prosecution brought forward was fabricated. Either in their own minds or someone else’s. Probably the police, they were of no help to us Americans when I was living there and I don’t think they have changed at all since I left there. If anything they have gotten worse.
My heart goes out to Amanda and her family and friends. I will pray for them each and every day, just as I have been since I first heard about the case. May God give you the strength to get through the days, weeks, months and years to come.
Thursday, December 3, 2009
The Statue Garden
There is a house not to far from us that has a nice size statue garden. By that I mean a garden of nothing but all kinds and sizes of statues. No plants, just statues. I have never stopped to take a really close look, but I would have to say that none of the statues are over 2 feet tall.
It sits right by the side of the road on a little embankment. The whole thing is outlined with landscaping timbers and the owner or caretaker has put down landscaping fabric to keep the weeds at bay. I do have to admit that it is very well cared for.
During the summer when ever we would drive by, I would try to see what all was in there. I do know that there is a statue of Snow White, some animals, and a lot of gnomes. And I noticed that the caretaker changes thing every now and then. They get moved and changed several times during the summer months. I think the caretaker has more gnomes hidden someplace and swaps them out every now and then.
I’m not sure which house owns that little bit of land but one day I will find out and get permission to really have a good look at things. Stopping on the road isn’t to safe, it’s narrow, it’s on a curve, and there is no place to really pull over. So closer inspection will have to wait for warmer weather.
For some reason I am fascinated by gnomes lately. Well, ever since I went to Ireland about 12 years ago. Gnomes remind me of “Wee Folk”, leprechauns. Both are mythological beings that have millions of people fascinated with the thought of them having actually existed. Authors have included them as characters in books, plays and movies. Books have been written about finding and caring for them. I have even found web sites dedicated to them. And I have even found a web site that is trying to free gnomes from their “oppressive” owners.
I don’t want the gnome police coming to my door, but I do have several picked out that I want for my garden. Grandpa gnome looks so sweet and loving holding his grandchild, and the lawn mowing gnome just looks so content mowing away. Oh, how I wish that one was for real! There are times that I want to be the on strike gnome, and do nothing but lay in a hammock and sleep, just like another gnome I saw. But to show my support to all our brave men and women in all branches of the military, there is a military gnome.
Yes, I know the ones I want to start my collection with, the only problem I am having is trying to decide where in the garden they will be placed. I want them to be seen, but I have been told that they are very shy beings and I don’t want to upset them. If I am really good to them, maybe they will bring a leprechaun to my garden and I can get the pot of gold!
It sits right by the side of the road on a little embankment. The whole thing is outlined with landscaping timbers and the owner or caretaker has put down landscaping fabric to keep the weeds at bay. I do have to admit that it is very well cared for.
During the summer when ever we would drive by, I would try to see what all was in there. I do know that there is a statue of Snow White, some animals, and a lot of gnomes. And I noticed that the caretaker changes thing every now and then. They get moved and changed several times during the summer months. I think the caretaker has more gnomes hidden someplace and swaps them out every now and then.
I’m not sure which house owns that little bit of land but one day I will find out and get permission to really have a good look at things. Stopping on the road isn’t to safe, it’s narrow, it’s on a curve, and there is no place to really pull over. So closer inspection will have to wait for warmer weather.
For some reason I am fascinated by gnomes lately. Well, ever since I went to Ireland about 12 years ago. Gnomes remind me of “Wee Folk”, leprechauns. Both are mythological beings that have millions of people fascinated with the thought of them having actually existed. Authors have included them as characters in books, plays and movies. Books have been written about finding and caring for them. I have even found web sites dedicated to them. And I have even found a web site that is trying to free gnomes from their “oppressive” owners.
I don’t want the gnome police coming to my door, but I do have several picked out that I want for my garden. Grandpa gnome looks so sweet and loving holding his grandchild, and the lawn mowing gnome just looks so content mowing away. Oh, how I wish that one was for real! There are times that I want to be the on strike gnome, and do nothing but lay in a hammock and sleep, just like another gnome I saw. But to show my support to all our brave men and women in all branches of the military, there is a military gnome.
Yes, I know the ones I want to start my collection with, the only problem I am having is trying to decide where in the garden they will be placed. I want them to be seen, but I have been told that they are very shy beings and I don’t want to upset them. If I am really good to them, maybe they will bring a leprechaun to my garden and I can get the pot of gold!
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
Mickey Mouse
I have a friend who loves Mickey Mouse. Every summer the family vacation was a two week long trip to Disney World. The planning for the next trip would start before the even arrived back home. So I was not surprised when my friend told me they were moving to Florida. And I was not surprised when I got a call to tell me she had gotten a job at Disney World. What did surprise me was the fact that her entire family was working there.
I remember watching “The Mickey Mouse Club” on TV growing up. And I remember having my own set of “ears”. So I guess I was a little jealous of her and the rest of her family. Just the trips alone were enough to bring out that green eyed monster in me. I had only been to a Disney park once, and she was going every year!
The only time I was lucky enough to go to Disney World was in the 80’s. The ex husband had family living in Florida and we were living in Louisiana at that time. We were going to be driving up to PA to visit our parents anyway, so he decided to stop in Florida. We had the car packed and were ready to go as soon as the kids got out of school. The drive was uneventful and so was visiting his Aunts and Uncles.
But I remember the side trip to Disney World. Not many visitor to the park before Memorial Day, and that is when we were there. We hit every ride, and I do mean every ride, at least once, Space Mountain got us three times! My son got lost on Main Street. My daughter drooling over Cinderella’s Castle. We meet Minnie, Donald, Goofy and the rest of the gang, except for Mickey. I was heart broken.
On our way to the gates to leave the park, we all just had to sit and try to catch our breaths. We were among the first people in the park that day and we were going to one of the last ones to leave. One of the kids asked me a question and as I turned to answer, I saw him. The tears started to roll down my cheeks and the kids started to get upset because I was crying. Then his white gloved hand was on my shoulder and the kids knew everything was okay. He sat down next to me and held me for a while. The tears stopped and everything was perfect. I had finally met Mickey.
I had told my girlfriend about my meeting Mickey. And she never forgot it either. Every year I get a picture of her with Mickey. And she sends me little gifts with Mickey on it. One year I got a new pair of ears. Another time I got a Christmas tree ball. Several tee shirts have found their way to my doorway also. But I think one of my favorite gifts came just this year. A kitchen timer. Red bottom, just like his shorts, with a black top that has his ears. That is the gift that I will get a lot of use out of.
Incase you were wondering, Mickey gets that kind of reaction a lot. The tears and all. Seems he has meant a lot to a lot of people, not just women, but men also, for a long time.
I remember watching “The Mickey Mouse Club” on TV growing up. And I remember having my own set of “ears”. So I guess I was a little jealous of her and the rest of her family. Just the trips alone were enough to bring out that green eyed monster in me. I had only been to a Disney park once, and she was going every year!
The only time I was lucky enough to go to Disney World was in the 80’s. The ex husband had family living in Florida and we were living in Louisiana at that time. We were going to be driving up to PA to visit our parents anyway, so he decided to stop in Florida. We had the car packed and were ready to go as soon as the kids got out of school. The drive was uneventful and so was visiting his Aunts and Uncles.
But I remember the side trip to Disney World. Not many visitor to the park before Memorial Day, and that is when we were there. We hit every ride, and I do mean every ride, at least once, Space Mountain got us three times! My son got lost on Main Street. My daughter drooling over Cinderella’s Castle. We meet Minnie, Donald, Goofy and the rest of the gang, except for Mickey. I was heart broken.
On our way to the gates to leave the park, we all just had to sit and try to catch our breaths. We were among the first people in the park that day and we were going to one of the last ones to leave. One of the kids asked me a question and as I turned to answer, I saw him. The tears started to roll down my cheeks and the kids started to get upset because I was crying. Then his white gloved hand was on my shoulder and the kids knew everything was okay. He sat down next to me and held me for a while. The tears stopped and everything was perfect. I had finally met Mickey.
I had told my girlfriend about my meeting Mickey. And she never forgot it either. Every year I get a picture of her with Mickey. And she sends me little gifts with Mickey on it. One year I got a new pair of ears. Another time I got a Christmas tree ball. Several tee shirts have found their way to my doorway also. But I think one of my favorite gifts came just this year. A kitchen timer. Red bottom, just like his shorts, with a black top that has his ears. That is the gift that I will get a lot of use out of.
Incase you were wondering, Mickey gets that kind of reaction a lot. The tears and all. Seems he has meant a lot to a lot of people, not just women, but men also, for a long time.
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
A Metal Detector
Friends of ours have a medal detector. They have a lot of fun with it. Their grandkids love visiting and going on “hunts”. They make it sound like tons of fun and laughter. They haven’t found any thing of value yet, unless you count time spent with the kids, grandkids and even each other.
My hubby and I have discussed the possibility of getting a metal detector. Of course he wants to find a treasure worth a lot of money, while I just want to find some Indian (Native American) and Civil War artifacts for myself. And then there is the fact that we, hubby and I, would be doing something together.
Now don’t get me wrong, we do a lot of things together. We go to the stables to get manure, work in the garden, cut, split and stack fire wood. We also go grocery shopping together, to the bank, and the hardware store. So as you can see, we do a lot together. And I wouldn’t want to do any of that stuff without my hubby. But I just thought it would be nice to do something fun together. Not that all the other things can’t fun. They are, but they are also necessary too.
I thought if we got a metal detector, we could go for a walk in the woods together with the hopes of finding something other than fire wood. We could walk around our property with the hopes of finding something other than a lost whatever thingy that came off something-or-other.
Well, I did some hunting and checking on-line. There are a lot of metal detectors out there. Some have all kinds of bells and whistles and doodads, with prices to match. And then there are some that have nothing extra built in but still have nice price tags. Then there are some that have really nice little price tags but are made really cheaply.
So I started asking around. You know, my friends and people I know from church and all. And everyone said the same thing. Bounty Hunter was the best. Not only that, the price wasn’t bad either. So I let my fingers do the checking, I went on-line. Then I did some reading, on-line. And I think I found the metal detector for us.
It’s a Bounty Hunter. The model is called Gold Digger. There are some bells and whistles, but the price isn’t bad at all. It can detect gold, silver, and a lot of other metals. And what I like best is that it comes with a head set so no one else can hear it pinging when you come across something. It also has some kind of stabilizing thingy that makes it easier for the detection devices to detect while you are “gently swinging” it back and forth just inches off the ground.
From the way things read about the Bounty Hunter metal detector, it sounds perfect for us. I will start talking about it, and before next summer gets here, I will just about have my hubby convinced it was his idea to get it. Its either that or I write a letter to Santa!
My hubby and I have discussed the possibility of getting a metal detector. Of course he wants to find a treasure worth a lot of money, while I just want to find some Indian (Native American) and Civil War artifacts for myself. And then there is the fact that we, hubby and I, would be doing something together.
Now don’t get me wrong, we do a lot of things together. We go to the stables to get manure, work in the garden, cut, split and stack fire wood. We also go grocery shopping together, to the bank, and the hardware store. So as you can see, we do a lot together. And I wouldn’t want to do any of that stuff without my hubby. But I just thought it would be nice to do something fun together. Not that all the other things can’t fun. They are, but they are also necessary too.
I thought if we got a metal detector, we could go for a walk in the woods together with the hopes of finding something other than fire wood. We could walk around our property with the hopes of finding something other than a lost whatever thingy that came off something-or-other.
Well, I did some hunting and checking on-line. There are a lot of metal detectors out there. Some have all kinds of bells and whistles and doodads, with prices to match. And then there are some that have nothing extra built in but still have nice price tags. Then there are some that have really nice little price tags but are made really cheaply.
So I started asking around. You know, my friends and people I know from church and all. And everyone said the same thing. Bounty Hunter was the best. Not only that, the price wasn’t bad either. So I let my fingers do the checking, I went on-line. Then I did some reading, on-line. And I think I found the metal detector for us.
It’s a Bounty Hunter. The model is called Gold Digger. There are some bells and whistles, but the price isn’t bad at all. It can detect gold, silver, and a lot of other metals. And what I like best is that it comes with a head set so no one else can hear it pinging when you come across something. It also has some kind of stabilizing thingy that makes it easier for the detection devices to detect while you are “gently swinging” it back and forth just inches off the ground.
From the way things read about the Bounty Hunter metal detector, it sounds perfect for us. I will start talking about it, and before next summer gets here, I will just about have my hubby convinced it was his idea to get it. Its either that or I write a letter to Santa!
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