unrelated things

I (we) was (were) out and about over the past couple of days.  BJ needed some stuff to make a doily ( y'know, akin to knit but you crochet them - small round things - she is making some to give away to her quilt guild people who have Featherweight Sewing Machines - no proper thread in Corsicana so we drove to find some ).  Being round and about the area, I saw a couple of things.  Only a couple caught my eye.
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At the Half Price Bookstore, they had a deck of playing cards for the Steam Punk crowd.  I thought of nephew Steve, but bought none.  If we were doing Christmas presents or a family grabbag, I know what to buy.
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In two different stores I ran across a 2015 Wall calendar titled  SHAKE.  Each month has a photo of a different dog as it shakes.  I bought one of these for our house.  When you see something that makes you laugh, buy it.  Of all of our dogs, Greta is our biggest shaker.  Whenever she gets up, you can see the shake start at the tip of her tail and move up to the nose.  So cute.  Great calendar; look for it in your local calendar store.  I did.
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Family knows; others may not.  My oldest granddaughter is in the Frenship H.S. marching band.  They have gone through Regional and Area competition to advance to the UIL 6A marching contest.  I am excited for her.  Roger's family seems to be ready to cheer the band on.  Here's hoping they do well at State next week and bring home an enormous trophy.  So, one more Metze is into the band world again.  I hope she continues to enjoy the experience and has a great time.  I know I did.  The "Circle of Life" as we band directors like to say.
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This has been part 1.   Part 2 will follow soon.   Part 2 is completely unrelated to Part 1.  I just want to create anticipation.
me

sick and tired etc.

I am not well.  Surely it is not serious.  I had my flu shot.  Ebola was stuck in Dallas.  I did go to the Fair in Dallas - did a ebola nurse go to the Fair when I did?  
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My nose runs.  My eyes hurt.  My ears are ineffective.  There is a burring sound in my head.  If I move around too much my legs ache.  Sleeping is filled with strange dreams.  Appetite is not too affected in that I can eat, but I really don't crave eating.  How did this happen?
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My wife and I made a trip to the State Fair one week ago Monday - 13th I believe.  Y'know, Friday the 13th came on Monday this month.  We did that.  On the following Thursday we drove to our old hometown Levelland for my wife's cousin's reunion.  My nose dripped some on that trip, nothing serious.  My wife's nose started dripping about the time we went through Post.  If you know the Panhandle lay of the land, that is about 45 minutes or so southeast of Lubbock.
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We figured it was an allergy. Obviously = looking back = we were wrong.
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We drove straight through Lubbock and on to Levelland about 30 miles to the west.  By this time her allergy was going full-blown.  A trip to Walmart gave us nose pills which she dutifully took.  Today I know how terrible she must have felt.
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She took her pills and my nose dripped once in a while.   Sunday we drove to Lubbock and spent the night with son Roger and Penney and the grandgirls.   By Monday morning, my nose was in full flush.  We are home and the action has not let  up.   I have a serious cold or a non-serious case of the flu.  It comes and it goes.  Right now it is relaxing; but, just wait 30 minutes and I"ll be in bad shape again  (stopping to sneeze).
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Sympathy.  That is what I want.  Sympathy.
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Back to Levelland.
The reunion of her cousins was simply great.  
(stopping to blow nose) 
[ don't come in this house right now - you do not want this experience ]  
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I won't list all the cousins; there is a crowd - you might think of it as a crowd which can fill up a living room really fine.  Some of them are double cousins due to marriages of parents and relatives.  The Machas and the Glenns and the Kahaniks (that word is misspelled)  and other relatives born from that group plus spouses, of course.  My wife's mom was a Macha.
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I wasn't sure what would happen in Levelland - it isn't what you'd call a fun city to most.  In some previous reunions held in fancier locations, the females went shopping while the guys sat around and watched Tech play football.  Not this time.  We went on a tour of Levelland and, later, Hockley County.  For Levelland people, that description might seem like a joke within itself. A tour of Levelland.  It was no joke.  Driving in two cars connected by cellphones we looked at the new Levelland - some pretty fancy buildings - and revisited the old home places.
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My home on 15th street - a stone in itself - had been remodeled on the outside.  It had a metal roof, new siding, and actual grass in the front yard.  A car port had been added to the west side.  The new owners are working people  They had big oil field worker trucks around and about.  The old place didn't look too bad.  An old guy leaning on his walker in the driveway, gave us suspicious looks as we casually drove past.
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My wife's home place on 8th street is a mess.  It has to be a rental now.  The fence was torn down.  The cellar was covered over.  There were holes in the garage.  And, the yard was spotted with holes and no grass.  I think it made my wife sad to see how it had gone down.  Her mom had that house spotless inside and out.  You could roll around in the grass.  There use to be a beautiful Lilac bush in the back yard which smelled wonderful.  That house and her family is another future blog.
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In tornado Panhandle of Texas, why would anyone cover up a cellar?
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Summarize time.  We had a very good time in Levelland.  My wife so enjoys seeing all her cousins and reliving the old days.  There was some sadness and some nice times. The food was great - even when we just had a sandwich, the best. More than one family member brought Klubosniks.   Look that one up in your cookbook.  I know that Brenda Joy is already looking forward to our next get together in 2015.
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Now, if only I can shake this cold.
m3  

State Fair of the Great State of Texas

Texas is having its State Fair as I type.  It is a great Fair, certainly not a fair Fair.  Some might put it in the category of a Great Fair.  I do.  Still, we don't have horse races.
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Thursday at the fair is free for seniors; I am a senior.  This is a bit like a 12-step program admitting  your problem.  I like being a senior when (1) I get free stuff & (2) I realize that I do not have to go teach today or take a band to marching contest.  Today is the day many Texas bands attend marching contest - it rained yesterday messing with rehearsals - the temperature dropped messing with their brains (kids) - and the wind is pretty tough today messing with sound and lines and brains (kids).
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My daughter Christine has an older car.  It wasn't working right, & she was talking a new car.  I suggested we go to the Fair so she could look at all the car models.  Good idea; we planned it for yesterday, Monday the 13th  (Yes, Friday the 13th was on a Monday this month).  We planned and planned.
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Then, as it will happen, my brother Jim and his wife Earline gave us a call.  You may remember she had a heart transplant this past year.  She was feeling chipper and wanting to get out into the world.  They wanted us to go to the Fair with them.  Good idea!! but, wait, what about our plans.  Earline said the magic words: "We will go on Thursday and it is free for seniors."   More plans were made.
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Adding to our trip with them, Jim & E had to go by Baylor hospital.  She gives blood samples so the docs can watch the rejection factors.  The plan:  meet at Baylor hospital at 10 a.m. Thursday.  Parking is $5 there  ($15 at the Fair).  We catch the Dart train from Baylor over to Fair Park.  The spouser and I had not ridden the Dart in Dallas before - so an adventure was had.  Adding to the mix, I had a band rehearsal with the Corsicana Swing Orch on Thursday night.  Had to hurry.
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First thing in the Fair, Jim&E plopped down inside one of those picture taking booths. I would include a copy of that photo - but it is on Facebook and that is way too much trouble.  Instead, how about this photo:

It was a good time had by all.  We saw some cars, quilts, pigs, goats, camels, Big Tex, and the food court. Go to the Fair and you will be able to write what we did.  Skip the rides and the game though, we did.
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Going on - I made it back for rehearsal with 5 minutes to spare.  It was nice to spend a day with Jim & Earline.   (They had another couple with them from up north - I am neglecting to mention them in case they do not want to be brought up in a blog.  The other couple had a good time too.)  My wife's favorite time was when we bought a Fried Bluebonnet to eat.  .  .  primarily a blueberry muffin filled with goop, fried, covered with whipped cream and chocolate.  Apparently it was worth the trip.
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A few days later Christine showed up on our doorstep.  We made the hour trip to the Fair and had a really good time.  On this trip we spent more time in the quilt room and the arts & crafts.   Lunch was pretty much the same.  Our visit to the car show was informative.  The weather was cooler.  We saw the animals and squirrels.   Our plan was a bit poor because it was Columbus Day and many parents brought their children to clutter the hallways.
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If another of my children want to go to the Fair, I am ready and willing.  My biggest complaints include other people's children - high prices - noise and walking/walking/walking.  Did I mention the Butter sculpture?  This lady created running horses, big horses, running.  They were made from butter. The room was below zero.  I have to marvel at the ability of anyone to sculpt. At least if she is unhappy with the result, she can eat it.  That's a lot of butter.
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Closing now until my next adventure or worthless thought.
mtz  - no wait, just had one.
When I was in high school - don't remember what year or ?  Our band director Wilburn Wheeler took the Levelland HS band to the Texas State Fair.  For the life of me I cannot remember if we had a competition or not.  I think we did. At the end of the competition a few selected brass players from all the bands climbed to the top of the cotton bowl.  We were spread out all over the stadium.  I'm guessing we had an audience.
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Anyhoooo, somebody directed us as we played a fanfare - a long fanfare - in the stadium.  It was supposed to be a big deal at the time.  The fanfare was really high for this trumpet.   I blew and blew as hard and loud as I could.
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I cannot remember anything else about that trip.  We rode in yellow school buses - we did not travel on chartered buses in those times.  I guess we had a fun time on the rides.  I just can't remember.  I wonder if my wife was on that trip?  She was a year behind me in school.  Brother Jim was a year ahead.  I'll have to ask them.
I am worrying too much about this.  It was not my Freshman year, cause we went to San Antonio that year  - Another year, my Junior or Senior year, we made a trip to Corpus for Buccaneer Days.  We played a contest and marched in their 5 mile long parade.  It was tough.
now, I am through.
See Ya.

Burglar in shorts

Our local newspaper, the Corsicana Daily Sun, has a great article that needs to be retold.  But first the DISCLAIMER:  { Obviously } I have no actual personal knowledge of any of this - my information comes from the local paper article and a very short conversation with a local ex-police-type-person.  I learned nothing new from the law guy, so, in reality if I had not read the paper, I would know Nothing.   Wanting to give credit toe the reporter, I reread the paper.  The article was filed by "Staff Reports." Unless they have a reporter with the last name of Reports, I can't give credit, now can I?
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Whew, that's over.
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Friday morning a guy was arrested for burglary of a house in Corsicana.  When he was arrested, he was dressed only in his underwear.  Go Figure.  Here's what we figured.  He did the job undressed so - when he ran away from the scene and was spotted - he could quickly put on his green shirt - and nobody would figure him for the guilty - because he wasn't dressed only in underwear.
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Nobody told me if it were boxers or shorts.  I didn't ask; they didn't say.  
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But instead he was apprehended without clothes on making it difficult to deny guilt.
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Follow this as it happened.
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The guy climbs into a window at 7:30 a.m. Friday.  Someone called the police.  The homeowner confronted the guy who ran out of the house.   He ran to a nearby house and entered through an unlocked door.    The burglar ran into the house and out the back door.
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The police spotted him running down the street.  He entered a 3rd house knocking down a female resident who was standing by the front door.  Once he entered, he turned and locked the door behind him.  Yes, behind him.  The policeman kicked in the the locked door and caught the "suspect".
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The paper said he was a 34 year old white male wearing only underwear.  After he was caught, he was transported (I guess that means ambulance or the back seat of a police car) to the local hospital for treatment.    He had cuts and abrasions on his bare feet.  Yes, my dear, the guy did not wear shoes either.  I suppose he was afraid someone would recognize his pink Nikes.
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Now would you  break into a house unclothed in daylight?  Then, would you not wear shoes?  Running away would you stop to see if the house next door had unlocked doors to allow you to run straight through?  Would you have been better off to be completely naked?  
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Final note - imagine this.   You buy a brand new house (new to you).  For months you are looking forward to owning and sleeping in this great house.  You move in.  The next morning, you throw open the front door to look out at your fabulous new neighborhood and smell the fresh air of your beautiful new yard.  Then some clown in his underwear runs up - knocks you down - runs into your house locking the door behind him - the front door is kicked down by a policeman who tackles the intruder inside your house.
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I figure she is thinking:  "I am so glad I moved into this beautiful, quiet neighborhood.  Tomorrow I buy a German shepherd with long teeth."  
As always we should remember that a person is innocent until proven guilty in a court of law.  If I knew his name, I wouldn't say it here.  Not me, Slick.  He might google his name, and, then coming looking for me - in his long johns.  Me betcha he spends some time in a looney bin.  Any takers?
3m

great day (just an opinion)

If you read my previous post regarding lines - you will know that I should be having lines start at any moment.  Stress related visual problems.  What a joy.
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It all started last night.  I am reading email as I am want to do most nights.  I received this email from the leader of the Corsicana Swing Orchestra.  He sent us all a copy of the flyer for the dance we are playing Saturday night at the Corsicana Airport - they call it the Hanger Dance with the money going towards the airport museum - This airport was created during WWII to train our pilots.  Corsicana has a proud history of pilot training.  Eventually the war ended - the base closed - the barracks were converted to Navarro (Junior) College - The college moved to town later and built a very nice campus - and the airport became just an airport.
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I just had to stop typing for two interruptions.  The first and questionably the most important was a bug crawling on my nose.  A little black flying bug.  That can be so distracting.  The second was Oscar.  I have been gone to choir practice this evening.  I missed our ball playing and toy time with the dogs.  Oscar greeted me at the door with a ball in his mouth.  I loved on them all as much as time dictated.   When I sat at the puter (computer) Oscar plopped on a pillow beside me and starting making a noise in his throat.  I knew there would be no peace  (or justice in his mind) if I left him sprawling below.
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I picked him up and we loved and loved and loved.  He snuggled under my chin as I massaged his skinny backbone.  What a boy.  His ball remained on the pillow.  Oscar is now back on his pillow satisfied and eyes closed.  Everyone in the world needs something (or somebody) with which to snuggle.  Or in popular lingo:   you gotta have someone to snuggle with --------
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Back to the email above.  We were asked to email the flyer to people or to put it up all over town.  It seems that ticket sales are somewhat poor - I hope they make enough to pay the band.  I am not going to traipse all over town taping signs up that nobody will read.  It cost $25 per person to go.  This includes a BBQ meal from Bubba's  [ yes, Bubba's BBQ ] over in Ennis.  I must admit it is good BBQ even though it is a bit pricey in my book.   BBQ and a dance amongst the airplanes in the hanger.  What more could you ask?
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So I dug out my email list of the choir and began to edit it on an email address place.  All was going fine when the mouse slipped off the desk and hit the floor. You cannot do email without something like a mouse. For all practical purposes, my screen was frozen up.  I dug out my old mouse.  It would not work.  I dug out my laptop and stole the mouse.  Back in biz.
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Now you may not think that was an interesting stone. Here I am trying to do a good deed.  I break the stupid mouse and all my handiwork will go away if I find no solution.  I found one.  I bought a new mouse today $17 at Walmart.
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This has gone on long enough.  Today I did things around the house, and it seems that at every turn, I bungled the work.  I am refinancing my car from 5.5% to 1.79%.   Everything is done over the internet.  I had to email sign all and the program shorted out - then, I clicked a button and it tried to sell me a computer program that is unneeded by anyone except a bank.  Do I look like at patsy?  Must.  At Walmart pushing a cart and rounding a corner, I hit a cardboard display full of flea medicine for dogs.  It went everywhere.  Down two more aisles.  Turn my cart into a container containing (cute words) empty cardboard boxes.  You guessed it; empty boxes flew.  I picked up the flea medicine dutifully.  I did not pick up the boxes.
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Yes, we have all had these days.  Nothing seemed to work out.  If it wasn't one dumb thing, something else would pop out.  The phone rang.  I picked it up - and the arm of my office chair fell off.  Go figure.  It was hard to get the arm relined up to insert the bolt.  
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Just reread.  This is not interesting.  Wham!  Bam!   I am so looking forward to tomorrow.  It has to be a less accident prone day...surely  (don't call me shirley).  If it is worse, you can write my next bluggy.  At least I know that Oscar will want to hug me in the morning...play ball or no.
m
night folks.
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My youth

When I was a kid - any age - we never went out to eat.  Being inside a restaurant was somewhat foreign to we brothers.   College was such a change, living in the dorm we had to eat out on Sunday night - and, later, we had to eat out every meal as we moved into rentals near the campus.  But, prior to that, we never ate out.  Never...Not ever.
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One Saturday we drove 30 miles south from Levelland to Brownfield.  I couldn't tell you why we went to Brownfield.  I am sure it must have been for business of some type - but a family outing it became.  About 2 or 3 in the afternoon my father finally gave in and took us to a cafe for lunch.  I seem to remember it as a prime example of the traditional greasy spoon cafe located on a bad road ... It was on the outskirts of Brownfield ( a hated school rival ) and they were the cubs - We probably went to the Cub Cafe.  I had to be in the junior high age group at the time.
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Menus were distributed and we had choices to make.  Some took a hamburger (cheese and fries probably would have been an extravagance).  I selected a bowl of chili.  For folks who really know me, this should not be a surprise.  That bowl of chili was terrible.  I am sure it was made from dead cats and bundles of caked grease.  Lard was cheap to buy in those days.  Ate it though.  Later as I burped and complained, my mom gave me some great advice that I still refer to even today - "You can never go wrong with a hamburger.  It is hard to mess up."  She was a wise lady.   
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I believe that may still be true in the greasy spoon cafe world.   All over I try the chicken fried steaks and am always displeased.  Cooks  (not chefs) believe that if you can put an inch of crust around a 3 inch piece of meat which has been beaten down to a thin wafer, all will be forgiven.   Forgiven, maybe, forgotten ?  I don't think so.  When we ran our joint in Amarillo, RAGTIME, we served canned chili with a little home grown hamburger meat to beef it up.   Functional, but not art chili.
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Eating out was rare.
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When we traveled to Oklahoma to see relatives.  My father would not stop.  He drove and drove and drove.  As we entered a town, all would start pointing out places to eat. It was always too late to turn in - not time, but the driveway had passed and we certainly couldn't turn around to eat.  This attitude was by a man that loved to feast - just don't feed on my dollar.
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Times were different; costs were different.  He might stop if he found a place to buy five burgers for a dollar.  5 for $1.  Small drinks (ordered with very little ice) and no fries.  It's a wonder we didn't starve to death on long trips.  
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One of my favorite things was visiting Uncle Percy.  He had a car lot and always drove a convertible - usually a Lincoln.  It was beee-uuuu-ti-full.  Uncle Percy would always take us out to eat lunch one day.  Normally it would be a cafeteria somewhere.  That was one of our great times.
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There was the time that Jim and I drove by ourselves to Ok City to visit Marshall.  Jim (playing string bass) and Marshall were playing a New Year's dance.  We visited for a couple of days.  On one of those days Marshall took us to a spaghetti restaurant (Pizza too) in the City. We had never had spaghetti - and pizza was quite rare in those days.  Marshall made us both wear bibs - as he did with his friends.  We were instructed on the proper way to eat spaghetti.  I still don't have this skill down.
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One more:   We had to drive to Oklahoma once for the funeral of one of my grandparents...I think it was my grandmother.  This was a very sad time for all of us. The trip home went through Amarillo.  I have not the slightest idea why our father chose this route instead of the traditional one through Wichita Falls.  But, he did.  We stopped in Amarillo at Underwoods Cafeteria - good BBQ and fab rolls.   My father ordered ribs.
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He was not one to do things funny.  But on that day he made a big deal about eating the ribs and getting stuff all over his face.  It tears me up now to remember how he worked at making the mood lighter that day.   Food has memories.  I hope all of you can remember your memories.
m 

clothes

Alright, Alright, Alright, ALLL RIGHT !~!
I do have a question...maybe 2...maybe more.
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Let's focus here.  I am a guy.  I am not some female who goes shop, shop, shopping.
Clothes have never meant much to me - as anyone who remembers me wearing the Mr. Roger's sweaters throughout my festive career.
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I do worry a bit about looking okay in a crowd.  I can still remember my first classy sportcoat.  My brother Marshall, as worldly as you could get, took me shopping to buy a sports coat.  My mom may have sent us out to buy a suit, but Marshall had none of that.  He put me in a brown sportcoat.  It had stripes - brown and black alternating.  For all I know, the jacket may not have had the black stripes.  It looked that way to me.  He had me get a pair of matching trousers.  I was a fashion plate.
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The coat and pants were worn in college, and, if I remember correctly, I was married in this outfit.  Things were different back then.  Not everyone had to be married in a pastel colored jacket with matching tie and cumberbund and handkerchief.  I did have a flower on the lapel though.  I betcha this coat is hanging in one of my closets - just as my wife's wedding dress is packed away in a box waiting - just waiting.  It was a very pretty dress.  I like it.
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Off subject:  my wife was always a bit irritated by people who said the wrong things about her age.  As we were nearing our wedding date, she and her mother went to a local Levelland store to find a travel dress.  In those days, when the young couple left the reception, they wore travel clothes.  I wore my suit and tie;  she wore a nice dress.  I want to say it was a blue dress.  She'll correct me if I'm wrong.
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The saleslady complemented the outfit saying, (I paraphrase sorta)  "This is a very pretty dress.  You will be able to wear it all through high school."  We were pushing 22 years old!!  She bought the dress anyway.  I don't think we even approached having a giggle over this.  Serious biz.
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So, I have this question:  What day -- "When"  is it okay to just chuck all your clothes and just start over?  I am 73 years old - pushing higher.  I am still wearing clothes from 10-15 ++ years ago.  Some don't fit as well.  My clothes just don't wear out unless I wear them to the local buffet -  I dribble when I eat (usually unwashable food stuff).  The shoes I have on right now  ( I use them to work in my yard ) were my shoes I wore for marching practice in 2003.  I have shirts that I remember wearing back in the 90s - again not many cause I have grown somewhat.
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Aside note-sidebar:  if my wife reads this, she'll pull out clothes she is still wearing from 20 - 30 years ago.  I will be shamed for complaining.
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I look in the closet and see the same green, blue, red shirts that I have seen forever. Once in a while I get something new but, then,  see above note about eating at the buffet.  One summer the granddaughters were visiting.  I put on a clean shirt every day.  It turns out I had selected a dark blue knit shirt for 3 days in a row - each different. One of the grandgirls asked me if I ever change shirts.  There ya go Herman.
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Hey, you're old. Throw everything out and start over.  President Bush moved into bright colored socks.  You could make a statement - pinks and purples - plaids and stripes - fireman hats - c'mon, the sky's the limit.
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We were walking in Walmart the other day when I spotted some female outfit that I thought would look nice on my wife.  She declined.  Her choice.  I told her how I could make her a fashion plate if she'd just let me dress her  [  one should completely ignore the fact that this conversation happened in a Walmart - the home of fashionable clothing.  ]  She responded that I could pick her clothes if she could pick out mine.  Whoa there Trigger!!  Nobody said anything about that!  
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I could just see my closet now.  Big flowering shirts - tight fitting spandex pastel pants. No way am I gonna set her free to go down this pathway.  The answer of course is to lose a lot of weight.  I get tiny again; I have to have all new clothes, which, I shall add here, I will select for myself.
But, enough of this.  I am going outside and hang up our flag.
I bought a new flag.  The old one got caught on a board and ripped.
The new flag looks nice.  USA   USA   USA    USA
m

lines etc

I am sitting here waiting for supper to simmer properly.  The wife is making some chili which needs to cook down a bit to meld all the proper flavors.  She makes a good chili. The plan is nachos...chips covered with cheese and chili.  .  . and don't forget the jalapenos.  It will be good.
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I opened a can of Ranch Style beans to top off the culinary feast.
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I thought I'd give you a bit of my medical history.  If this is not fine reading, what could be better?  I see lines - not little green men or dead people - lines.  They are very colorful sometimes flashing lighter to brighter.  The lines are jagged.  There is not one line; it is a set of lines.  I might mention I do not see them all of the time...just sometimes.
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Over the years I have been told that these are aural symptoms of migraine headaches. I have migraines without any pain.   The lines usually start in the lower part of my vision then cross diagonally until they slowly float off the top part of the visual field. The whole process takes about 20 to 30 minutes.    But, no pain.
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I can remember my first time - having lines.   I was in high school.  My brother's best friend was a guy named Doc McKay.  Doc was our drummer; he had some real talent.   I imagine I could write a full blog on Doc.   His mother was the local dance teacher. Quite a lady.   At one point of their life, they bought a Lot out on the Brownfield highway out in Levelland  (you can read previous blogs about Levelland being my home town).  The Brownfield Highway was an area where richer people started building their houses - mostly ranch style homes on a really big lot.  The McKays had one of those lots.  They had no house.
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Back in the 50s, Levelland had two gasoline plants.  One was "The Levelland Gas Plant" owned by Standard Oil - who became Amoco - who was bought by BP.  Yes, BP paid my father who paid for my education.  I like BP.  The second plant was called CO-OP.  
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Sometime during that period the CO-OP closed.  All of the pipes and tubes and towers and all were ripped out and gone.  As it turns out the CO-OP had some stuff down in the ground.  I don't know what.  Do I look like a person who can design a gas plant?  These holes in the ground were lined with brick.
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The McKay family hired my brother Jim and me and Doc to dig out those brick - clean em - and transport to their lot.  They used the brick to build their house.  it was summer.  We would climb down in those holes and dig out the brick.  We had a brick carrier that would carry 8 bricks at a time.  That was just about my limit.   This took us several days to complete.
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Do you remember why I am telling this stone?   One day (afternoon) Jim and Doc took off with a load of brick.  I was left behind to keep pulling them out.  And, I did.   It was this particular hot, sweaty, stressful, labor intensive, lonely time that I had my first attack of lines.  They lasted a while - I kept working - and they went away.
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Side note:   Times were certainly different in the 50s.  We worked all those days without any bottle water.  Nobody worried about how we were hydrating.  As a matter of fact, I don't believe anyone even knew the word hydrating.
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Wellsiree, this has gone on too long.  It served little purpose other than documenting that I have these lines.  I had em today.  I used to get them about one day after band contest and other stressful times in my band directing career.   For the life of me, I cannot figure out what triggered those lines today.   Just thought of a word.  Kaleidoscope  - when you look through a kaleidoscope you see these shapes and lines.  Pretty close to mine - except my flash more.
see ya guys around.
If you know a doctor who wants to have my brain after I am gone, give em my phone number.
m 
p.s.  I have no intention to proofread this blog.

stamps and pow wow movie??

Quickie #2 -- 10/3/14

I just paid 2 bills and put stamps on them.  I am still using my 2013 Christmas stamps.  Is this sad or not?  In years past, Christmas stamps rarely made it past December.  Now it seems that last year stamps may make it to this December.
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What bills were paid?   I am resubscribing to the Biblical Archaeology Review.  They are giving it to me for $7 a year.  Now - as an old miser - I think that is pretty good.  That would be $1 an issue.  I am not sure that I would stop in the store and buy an issue for $1 - miser?  cheap?  thrifty? (no that's not it).
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Each year I have to pay taxes on my house etc.  It is good to have a house to be taxed.  Still, it would be nicer if everything would be cheaper.  I use to wait till the very last day of the year to pay thinking this would let me keep my money longer and get interest at the bank.  Last month, I made about 5 cents in interest at the bank.  It makes me sigh.
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How about another photo from my camera?
this is an experiment to see if a movie will upload
We went to the Indian pow-wow in Grand Prairie recently - see a previous bluggy.   It looks like one of these is not uploading.   Hmmmm   it was the longest and best (naturally).  oh well. enjoy.   M3

have gone back to edit this one - all movies apparently worked.  I am impressed with all my skills.  Gonna write my mom and tell her how good I am.    Also, I corrected the word Indian above.  It seems I left off the N.  Now whoever heard of people from India having a pow-wow?   that's fixed.
m

QUILT SHOW !!!

Quickie #1 -- 10/3/14

My wife is downtown today helping them set-up the Corsicana Quilt Show.   She is a member and has a quilt in the show.  It is being judged as I type.  Here is good luck to her.  I will post a photo of the quilt on another day after it is hung at the show.   It is a very good quilt show with some fine looking quilts.  Go see.
m  
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P.S. this means I have to make my own lunch today - or left overs - I get to choose.

critters

Things certainly are different living in the country.  Not true.  They are not different; they are different to me.  People who have lived out in the wilderness have experienced these critters for years.  Being a city slicker, my view has been hampered.  And, to think about it, when I was band directing, I didn't observe much of anything.
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We have hummingbird feeders place on the edge of the porch.  5 feeders line our property.  Or in Star Wars talk:  Property lined with 5 feeders ours are.  This past couple of weeks, we have had anywhere from 20 to 40 hummingbirds dining and fighting off the porch and into the adjoining trees.  All summer, our three faithful hummingbirds have stayed close at hand doing what they do.  We figure if they would ever quit fighting over the food, they might gain some weight.
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But here for about 2 weeks we had a wave of birds.   All day long, eating and flying and fussing.  They were beautiful.  Our daughter Christine came to visit during this time and was able to sit on the back porch and watch and watch.  They are so much fun  (the birds, Christine is fun too; but, in a different way).  She left on Tuesday last week.  On Wednesday, no birds.  Our 3 faithful are still here.  The flock has left the building.
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I figure they were migrating south for the winter and got waylaid by the healthy feast we had provided.  Not one has said thank you.  Not one has sent a note.  Just "poof" and no birds.
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I noticed that when we stepped out on the porch, the birds flew to the trees.  We would sit, and they would return in a moment or two.  The dogs could be on the back porch barking, screaming, running, howling - you name it.  This did not affect the hummingbirds at all.

Sometimes I talk about my wirehair dachshunds.  Not true!  I always talk about my wirehair dachshunds.  This is a photo taken in 2004 - about the time I retired and we moved into the motorhome for 3 years of traveling.  L to R  Fritz (about 3 yrs old),  Greta (4), and Liesl (1). 
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You won't feel like I do.  This photo just made me sit and smile when I found it on the computer. Liesl is so pretty and young.  She has grown more hair on her face since then.  Greta looks pretty much the same - a ball of fiery fur - the most beautiful blond I have ever known.  Fritz died this year.  He was such a fabulous, handsome black and tan...Hungry - let's eat now - where's the beef? I miss him still.
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Now that I put the old guys on, I suppose I will have to put an update photo and a photo of the twins:  Oscar and Bruno.
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My wife walked this morning down the road.  On our front walkway she found a dead baby copperhead snake about 7-8 inches in length.  For those who don't know, baby copperheads have a lime green tail about 3/4 inches long.  This snake's tail had begun to lose the green color indicating it was a bit over...still a killer, but older.
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The snake had been cut in half.   The back half just was there on the sidewalk.  The front half was in a gooey pile where it had been eaten and regurgitated  (thrown up for those of limited verbal skills).  Throw up.  There is no better way to see a snake.  My question is who killed the snake and ate him?   My feeling are it might have been the roadrunner.   I don't know.  As we say:  the only good copperhead is a dead copperhead.
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Do armadillos eat snakes?  Whole and Alive?.
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I haven't mentioned the frogs and lizards that are all over this land.  It is time to close.  Lunch is ready.  Guacamole salad and enchiladas.   My wife is so good to me.
mtz