64

 Must make a point to say that today is our anniversary.   It has been 64 years.  They were not all roses and lollipops; but, they have been workable.  As we say around here:  "on to 65."

The wife's brother, who is not a spring chicken either, used FTD and sent some beautiful roses and a box of chocolate.  That was very nice.  My wife is infatuated with the roses.  Gorgeous big flowers.

I have been reading a series of books by Alan Hunter about a British detective named George Gently.  He wrote about 56 books.  All are easy reads with little to no hanky panky among the police staff.  Some stories dip into lust somewhat.   There is a BBC series based upon the books.  Colorful writings in my opinion.  Not necessarily great literature like War & Peace.  Still, I can read a few paragraphs, put the book down, and return without losing any sleep over it.

Ate out with daughters at Cracker Barrel.  Adequate.  Served it's purpose.  As we sat waiting, a rather tall, lumpy guy walked in.  He had a giant mop of blue hair and a big red ball on his nose.  His clothes were comical.  He sat at a table for two and waited.  Then she walked in.  Yes, Send in the clowns.  She had all sorts of make up, fantastic clothes, and giant shoes with bubbled toes.  They sat and ordered.  Eventually, two young ladies went over and had a conversation.  I bet they never get to eat in privacy.   In some ways you must envy these two who have the personalities to do this kind of thing.  I'm not sure I would ever be able to.  What about chu?

With that, I close.  Got to go fix my face for the day.  Everyone has to do a bit of decoration or work in order to remain on the "Most Beautiful" lists.

mtz

Idle thoughts

 Idle thoughts - and I am pretty much idle.

BUMBLE BEES:  our bee situation has stayed the same (see below).  A company is coming tomorrow to remove the bees from under our small storage shed.  The bees like living under our shed.  The company vacuums them up, digs under the shed, and removes the entire bee nest.  Bumblebees don't do the honey thing.  So they remove the entire nest including the queen and babies - yes babies - and capture as many adult bees as possible.

Then, they take them out to a certain ranch, dig a hole, plant the nest, & release the bees back into the wild.  Everyone is happy except me, who has to pay for this service, and the bees that are left behind.  My daughter is our environmentalist.  She wants to save the bees.  I am a jerk.  If left alone, I probably would have sprayed the nest with poison and moved on.  I do suppose this is the right thing to do.   I should open one of those 'help me" accounts on Facebook to pay for this.

----

I started making a list of things that I want and do around the house.  I only got to four.  These are things I believe are necessary.  They make life easier around my house.

1.  In the kitchen, put a pair of "Scissors in Every Drawer."  These are the big honkin' scissors that will cut through most anything.

2.  "A pair of reading glasses in Every Room - and garage."  After my cadillac (cataract) surgery, I have to put on reading glasses for anything up close.  If I carry one pair around, invariably I break them in my pocket - and back to Walmart for another pair.  Now, I have a pair:  in the kitchen, on the dining table, hanging in the garage, beside my big comfy TV chair, by this computer, in the "water closet" for when I have a major event and need something to read while I wait it out, and beside my bed.  Eventually, I'm going to put a pair in the car...eventually.   I suggest this strongly to others who are infected with my desease.

3.  "A Box of cheap Kleenex in Every Room."   I know, I know.  I should have written "tissue" instead of "Kleenex."  My wife constantly seems to want to have a running nose.  There must be a tissue available in all household locations - sometimes 2 boxes in the same room.  She has a small trash can beside her comfy girly chair to collect them.  This can must be emptied every night before bedtime, or Bella - the tissue seeking dog - will rip them to shreds overnight and carpet the floor with same.  Is it so hard to empty a trash can nightly?  Apparently.

4.  For now the 4th thing I have learned to do in my aging youth:  "Always check my wife's jean's pockets" for spent KLEENIX before putting them in the washer.  How many times have I messed this up since I began handling the wash?    Tissue paper lining the inside of the washer & maybe the dryer.  I need a vacation from retirement.

5.  I'm sure there will be a number 5.  You can add your own to the comment list if you'd like.  It would be nice to get a bit of help with this.    How about this one.  If you turn the water on in the kitchen sink AND there is one spoon in the sink - the water will always hit the spoon and splash your shirt.  Enough.

------------

I had one more little thought.  It has been sorta nice that my grandgirls have grown up knowing my wife and me.  Maybe we have left them some memory which they will share with their own children, my great-grands, someday.  Of course, I have noted that the grand girls seem uninterested in me telling them about my grandparents - on both sides.  Perhaps, I will live long enough for one of them to be interested.  Perhaps.  Probably not.  I had good grandparents.  Never knew my grandmother on my father's side.  She died when he was still a young boy.  My grandfather did remarry to a lady who had a daughter my age.  That's a story all to itself for a later time.

------------

Final thought:  I've enjoyed watching a BBC mystery drama about George Gently - a Scotland Yard detective - policeman.  It is based on a series of books written by Alan Hunter.  I've bought a couple of the books and have enjoyed reading them.  The show is 2 hours long.  It is mostly talking type stuff with little real action...like today's action police shows.  If you can find them, give em a try.  You might enjoy.

Later - I'll be back....Mtz3

bzzzzz bzzzzz

 I know, I know.   I am posting too much.

My house has a big metal shed about 20 x 40 or so.  I don't know.  We keep a bunch of junk in it WHICH  I am always planning to sort through.  Been going to do that for about 4 years.

Behind the big shed I have a smaller storage shed which holds my mower and other garden stuff.  I keep the Christmas stuff out there.  Nobody wants to steal that stuff.

So these are located on the west side of my property - about 6 to 7 feet from the 6' wood fence.  We keep this blocked off from the dogs mainly to protect the neighbors from the bark fest.  

Normally, I might mow this area about once every week or so.  Normally.  Well, it has been over a month since it was mowed.  Part of it is about 2 ft tall.  Good grass - few tall weeds - 

Today, I mowed the yard.  It is Tuesday.  The yard needed it - To start, I moved the barricade  and drove the mower down through that strip of land.    All of a sudden there was this big ole honkin' black and gold bumblebee.  25 ft along I made the U turn to go back over the area.  

WOW!!  The whole area beside the little shed was covered with flying bees.  Easily there were 100 bees flying around.  One bee found me and zoomed over my head.  I shooed it away.  I was stuck behind the sheds.  There was only one way out of the area at that time - right through the middle of those swarming bees - big bees - big fluffy vicious bees.

My daughter is home today.  I finally got through to her with my cell and explained the problem just as she rounded the edge of the shed and quickly backed up.  Yes, she found the key to the fence gate - I was able to drive out another way & the bees were still swarming.

Didja know that certain bumblebees nest in the ground?  The whole hive is below ground with an entrance hole.  They don't do the honey thing.  Every year they'll move to a new location.  There is a bee keeper who will come collect the bees with a sorta vacuum cleaner that doesn't kill - then, he digs up the big nest and relocates the bees to another area.   We read that on Google.

So, I mowed the entire yard - no problem other than heat.  I parked my mower back into the shed and was attempting to close the door when some bees found me.  I ran  into the house but not until I was stung behind my left ear and on the underside of my right forearm.  Those stings hurt and grow in pain as time passes.  

As quickly as possible, I took a Benadryl and sat down in my big chair to wait for the pain to diminish.  I learned a couple of things today.   First of all, keep all the grass mowed down and look for the bees in the grass.  2nd if you rile up a nest, leave the area and don't return for a few hours.   3rd carry a machine gun when you do decide to return.  I understand that a water hose will knock them down for a while.

Now, I have to decide.  Do I mow that part of the yard anytime soon?  Do I call someone to relocate the bees.  How much money am I willing to spend to protect these bees from my can of poison spray.

There must be other questions.   Moving on.  I am well now.  I do not have an allergy to bee stings at this time.  Y'all take care out there even when you think you are doing a safe activity.   Wear a mask, hoodie, long pants, gloves, etc.

I need a vacation from retirement.             G'night.   M3

short landline report

 as stated previously, I have been unplugging my landline for 24 hours or so.   This has cut into my spam calls and so forth.   It  seems to be working except for:

New Medicare scams.  They always have a new approach.  You can't change Medicare till the end of the year - so these folks must be looking for something else - like getting your Social Security Number -  they have a need to verify your number for the govt.  

Interesting {to me) is that my wife and I have almost identical SS numbers.  Raised in Levelland across town apparently our parents saw that we got our cards close to the same time.  I don't remember getting it at all.   Our numbers are 29 digits apart.  That may not be exciting to others who are raised in the same small town - but, still, at my age most things are exciting.

The word "Interesting" above -- I had to type that word 4 times before my fingers worked.  I kept getting extra lettteerrss.   go figure.

I was a whiz in typing class in high school.  I believe it is because I play musical instruments and had already taught my fingers to communicate.   Others, who had only taught their fingers to eat finger foods or pick their nose, they had to adjust.  I thought I was quite good of course.  However, when it came time for the typing teacher to select participants in the UIL typing contest - held in Canyon, TX - I was overlooked.  Sad, really.   On the other hand, my future wife was selected to compete in the short hand competition.  She won the Regional event.  The medal is still in her collection of prized objects.

I remember when she returned - they had a banquet up there to announce winners - she was dressed in a very fancy dress you might wear to a prom - she ran up to me and was just beaming.  I don't think she was that excited when we finalized getting married.  Of course marriage had always been a projection - nothing as a surprise.  I  was quite happy for her - but, she, in all her modest ways, she was - how do you spell estatic?

I had a job in h.s.  I was the night janitor for the h.s. band and choir rooms.  Every night, I would sweep, empty trash, arrange the chairs for the next day.   Sometimes I would even make an effort to clean the rest room.  I had my own key to the H.S.  Got paid minimum wage.   That was what I was doing when she returned from Canyon.

Having a key, I could practice in the band room  - or bring in other jazzers and have a little band rehearsal of my own.  It really was quite powerful for a H.S. kid to have a key to the entire building.  It was a good treat for a h.s. kid.  My brother JIM did it for 2 years before I did.  We had a lot of great jam sessions back then.

Through babbling.   Might mention that I loved all the fireworks and celebrations yesterday.  Our neighborhood is not in the city limits.  We have no restrictions on fireworks.  They start shooting them about 5 or so - and it goes till midnight - every year - all the time.   Whiz Bang Boom!!!

see ya, Mike  

p.s. the reason I was not selected for typing competition was that - although fast - I was not always accurate.  Y'know, if you are in a wild west shootout, it is not always the fastest gun who wins.  You have to hit your target.

 

interview

 I take a magazine called  TRUE WEST.   It is published out of Arizona.  On the whole the magazine is fun to read.  It has a combination of stories about the old west - about old & recent movies - and what I like to call:  Travel Channel.

The stories about the old west are interesting.  They are usually well done and fun to read.   The mag does dwell quite a lot on Billy the Kid and Wyatt Earp & the OK Corral.  But, you get use to that.  This last issue had an article on Sitting Bull  and another about Jim Beckwourth:  Legendary mountain man.  I enjoyed those pretty much.

The letters to the editor and general writings by the editors are fun too.  One of my favorite pages is called  "Truth Be Known."  They print things that people have said.  Example:   Wernher von Braun said, "Research is what I'm doing when I don't know what I'm doing."   Old Vaquero says, "Three things tell the truth:  small children, drunks and yoga pants."     And there are others.  Go buy a copy if you like this sorta thing.   

The movie section this time was all about Gus McCrae and Lonesome Dove.  If you're a movie buff, you'll love that section of the magazine.  I might mention that the last issue devoted several pages on the Highway 66 and its restoration to the world.

Where am I headed with this?  Wait, I forgot.  Travel section.  they talk about all sorts of places to visit, what restaurant is good, which museum to see, the history of that part of the west and on and on.

Now, on the very last page is  called:  What History has taught me.  They pick some author, historian, editor, writer, whatever and devote a page to his thoughts.  They write the start to a sentence, and the guest writer completes the sentence.  This month was Stuart Rosebrook, who I don't know and will never meet.  The sentence starts with:

I grew up .... (and now YOU complete the sentence).  Rosebrook said:    "in North Hollywood, California, but spent part of every summer at the Quarter Circle V Bar Ranch near Mayer, Arizona."   I will complete the sentence this way:   .... being moved from town to town while my father worked for a oil exploration company - Standard of Indiana - until the 6th grade when we landed in Levelland, Texas, for the rest of my years.  I could have said:   playing music on my cornet, piano, and accordion.  Both of my parents were school band directors for my younger years and playing instruments was just part of our lifestyle.  So many possible answers to that.     "loving Halloween"    "eating pork chops and black eye peas"   "in high school driving my motor scooter across Levelland to see my future wife, Brenda Joy"   

You get the idea:  So without any preplanning here, I am going to take Rosebrook's questions and answer them myself.  If you want to play along, do the same.   If you want to see Rosebrook's answers, go buy a copy of the magazine.   READY, GO!

When I was growing up ...  the world was so innocent and different.  WWII had just ended and we were catching up on what was good....playing outside till dark....roaming the neighborhood without a parent hovering (even at age 5)....having to practice 30 minutes everyday....never eating out, only home cooked meals.   It was a good time.

When I was growing up ....   Oops! it looks like I already answered that one - let's try this:  when  we took vacations it was mainly to see relatives.  When we did travel, we slept alongside the road, never in a motel.  My father didn't appreciate roadside attractions.   Lunch came when my father could find a place selling burgers 5 for a $1.    Me thinks I could answer this one several more times.k

My parents taught me .... that I could work with my hands.  I don't.  But, I could.

I just figured out this is too involved for my mind.  So, no more answers.  If you are curious, here are a few of the remaining questions:   (There are 29 total questions - my attention span has weakened)

I will never miss;   My parents' station wagon, Country music; I was taught;  A teacher who changed my life was;   always stay;  If I could to back in Time;  I love...;  What history has taught me;  being a father;   riding a horse;  Most people don't know;   For my money, the best Western is;  The biggest break I ever got was;  The closest I ever got to..;  My next big challenge is;   

 That's enough.  I'll try to say something brilliant with my next post.  .   .   sure, that'll be the day

m

  

this is a Misc. post

 think I'll just ramble.

1.  my blog people say for  me to click on the pencil icon at the top right and they will provide you, the reader, with profound comments and links to what I am writing.   Well first of all, there is no pencil at the top right.  There is one on the left side of the page which I will now touch.  Nope, that's not it.  At the far top is a heart and other stuff.  Nope, that's not it.  I suppose I will just have to live with not knowing what they want you to know.  No pencil.  No extra connections.

2.  I remember once they gave me the chance to Monetize my posts.  I tried that.  In doing so, I made a bit of fun (I thought).  I figured I'd make a penny every time you clicked on something.  Maybe in 5 or 10 years, I'd earn a dollar.  They did not take kindly to my money thoughts.  I was eliminated.  No money making retirement for me.

3.  Saturday, I got a notice:   JURY DUTY.   As it turns out, I'm a tad bit old for them. Actually, I'd probably fall asleep in the jury box if chosen. Seems that I have 2 different ways to get out of service. The first is my age.  I'm WAY OLDER than their 75 limit.  I thought it was a 65 age limit.  Their website says it is 75.  They don't really want an old yapping man sitting in that jury room.  Now, do they?  Might be fun except for reason #2.  My wife's Alzheimer's.  She really cannot be left alone.  Sure, she seems fine when you sit down and have a conversation. But, after a while, she will ask the same questions 4 or 5 times.  And, there's not real predicting what she might decide to do.  I caught her trying to open the lid on a pressure cooker a while back.  At the hospital last fall, I left her in the waiting room while I went to talk to the doctor.  She was gone when I got back.  Rest Room break.  She couldn't remember where the waiting room was.   Short term memory is the culprit right now.

Anyhoo, interestingly, the jury is being selected for the local Salado Justice of the Peace - not the Bell County big time courthouse.  I wonder what happens in the Justice of the Peace courtroom.  Curious, I am.  But, not ready to volunteer.

4.  I remember being called for a jury in Amarillo.  I had just left my teaching job at Tascosa HS that summer.  It turns out that the case was between a mom and dad - divorced type.  They were arguing whether the daughter, a student at Tascosa, probably 15 to 17 yrs old, had the right to choose which parent  should keep her.  Immediately, I figured out this was not for me.  When asked, I raised my hand; I was invited to the front of the court room; I was asked what my problem was; I explained where I taught and that I thought a girl that age could make up her own mind.   That brought down the house - the judge and lawyers all ascended upon me Shhhhhhh Shhhhhhh - it went.   I was excused.  That was on a Monday.

Naturally, my interest was peaked by the case.  I paid attention to the lawyer world.  It seems the father had a very rich family and expensive lawyers.  They went first.  All week they raked the mother, not a rich woman, over the coals.   On Friday, it was the mom's time.   Instead of putting the father on the stand, the family made some concessions and a solution was found.   As disappointing as it may be to you, I cannot remember the results of the trial.   I believe they reached a "shared" solution.

My only other jury experience came when we lived in Plano.  I couldn't figure out how to get off that jury.  I served.  It seems this teenage boy took his fathers semi-truck without permission on a joy ride.  Students had gathered in the Plano HS parking lot - a few hundred.  When they were dispersed, this kid was arrested at the scene.   Drugs were found in the big truck.  There was to be a court trial.  Frown as I might, the lawyers still liked me.  The kid's lawyers argued that:  the father had just returned that day from a trip across the continent.  He had picked up a hitch hiker.  Of course, the hitch hiker had left his drugs in the truck.  It wasn't the kid's fault.   No, he didn't do drugs; he just stole his father's semi tractor and went for a joy ride...no license.   My 12 member jury had several bleeding heart females.  Oh, my, what a disaster for this young man .... oh, me, oh my ....   I had no desire to fight with them.  The boy was found not guilty.  I betcha the policeman was really peeved at us.  I went home and hid.

5.  Did I tell you that I was sent to a hematologist 2 weeks ago.  Friendly young doctor.  He had them pull out 11 vials of blood because my white blood count is quite low - a 25 out of 100, whatever that means.   We go back to that doctor tomorrow sometime to get the results.  FYI:  my father died from leukemia back in the 70s.   Blood things scare me.   My daughter, who works in a hospital lab,  looked at the results and said that I didn't have that.  We will see.  The prostrate cancer was bad enough for me.  I'd just as soon not find a new cancer at this time.   I have a wife to care for.

6.  I own a weather machine.  It sets on the fence.  The weather machine connects to a display inside the house.  It shows outside temperature, inside temperature, rain fall, wind direction, wind speed, and some other stuff.   Sain Logic is the company.  I really enjoy watching the display.  One of my favorite things.  

It's time to stop.  Ramble is over.  See previous post, nobody has killed me yet.   I really enjoy watching On Patrol Live on the Reels channel.  Makes me glad I didn't go into law enforcement.  Y'all take care now.  I'll be back.   (p.s. still can't find the pencil to click on)

mtz

  

gonna kill me

 Let's see if I can tell this right.

My wife naps in the afternoon.  If the landline rings at this time, I grabbed it on the first ring; hit on; and I hit off immediately - especially if I don't recognize the caller.  

Today the phone rings.  It says Miami.  The only people I know in Miami are the President and all his friends.  Not wanting to talk to them:   ON --- OFF.  Normally, that settles everything.  Not this time.  Within 15-30 seconds it rings again:  Miami again.  I figure that I will say hello just in case it is Ed McMahon, and he misses me.

It's not.  Some guy with a really foreign accent starts talking.   " Is this Michael?"  The background noise is really loud.  I have trouble understanding as you will too when  you get hearing aids.   "You found me,." I uttered.  He starts rambling on - I can't understand him hardly.   I did pick up on that he was from the US Treasury -- I asked, "Are you from Miami?"  He reexplains that he was with the US Treasury -- something about a cashiers check -- and would I be home about 4:30 for it to be delivered.  

Frankly, I mocked him a bit.   He didn't waver.   4:30!  More babbling.  Finally,  Yes, I explained to him that  I would not be home - that I had already hung up on him once - that he was not from the treasury because they don't call - and now, I'm going to hang up on him a 2nd time.

And, I did.

Here's where it gets strange.  

He calls back.  I mutter, "hello," trying to keep the ringing from waking my wife.  He said something; I don't know what.  Didn't really care.  I told him I was hanging up on him for the 3rd time.   And he said,  "I'm going to find you and "f" kill you!"   

I hung up.

thinking about it, I thought maybe I should tell someone.  Called 911.  Nice lady.  I had to explain twice.  Eventually, she said that a deputy would give me a call.  He did.  We talked.  He drove out to the neighborhood and cruised around.  I stepped outside and talked to him in the street.  Nice young man.  He explained that I probably had nothing to worry about.  I agreed with him but felt that I should report the incident.  

We talked a while.  He cruised the neighborhood some more.  I went inside to find my weapon that I keep hidden...just in case the twirp was really that crazy.  You just never know anymore.  And, so, the episode ends.   I am considering installing a machine gun on my roof.  .   . maybe  few Patriot Missiles would be nice.

I was a bit surprised that this got my heart rate up.  

love ya, stay safe, the Treasury won't call you, try to be polite on the phone.

mtz

Landline Blues

 I have a landline.  I have a cell phone.

I like having a landline.  I tolerate having a cell phone; but, I do appreciate the advantages of the cell.

I hear better on my landline than I do on my cell phone.  Plus, my landline is connected to 4 other hand held units in my house.  If the phone rings, there is a receiver close by.

BUT, as you all know, there are jerks who are calling phones all day long selling any and everything - not to forget the scammers and politicians who feel they have the right to call and waste your time.  Yep, they do this.  Oh, really?  I didn't know that.

My favorite are the ones who know how to "spoof" the phone numbers.  I get calls from all over the USA - ESPECIALLY Texas.  At first I answered my phone explaining why I was not interested.  Then, I tried asking them to remove my phone number.  Eventually, I tried yelling and insulting the caller.  Nothing worked.  My phone has caller ID.  If I don't recognize the phone number, it goes to voice mail.  What bothers me the most is when my wife is trying to nap and the phone rings and rings.  Jerks.

Of course none of that works.  One day - about 3 weeks ago - when My first call came in about 8:30 a.m., I reached over and unplugged the landline from the wall.  No ringing.  No calls. I left that rascal unplugged for the rest of the day...plugged it back in at night.  Next day, the calls kept coming about every 30-45 minutes.  Why?  Don't the callers realize that my number is a complete waste of time?  Wait.  their bosses don't care.

I notified my family what I was doing.  I unplugged the phone for a solid week.  Then off and on for the next week.  The more I unplugged, the less it rang - go figure.  After about 2 -3 weeks of no landline unless I needed it, I left the phone plugged in.   Yesterday, I had one call about 2:30 in the afternoon.  Same thing the day before - only 2 calls.

Am I making progress, or am I just delusional?   Maybe both.  Y'all take care now.  Moving on.

mike mtz

reminisce

 Here we are on My 2nd.  Things are moving along.

1.  Announcement:  I play in the Community Band of Central Texas.  Proudly, I hold down a 3rd trumpet part.  It is so hard to actually practice in this house with my wife taking naps so often - of course, I never take a nap.  Luckily, I can pretty much the 3rd part with minimal practice.  To all of my former students who might be reading this - there is no excuse for YOU not to be practicing.  

2.  My granddaughter Shelby dropped by to see us Friday.  She had driven from Lubbock on her way to College Station.  She had a ticket to the Banana Ball Baseball game held in Kyle stadium.  Over 100,000  were in attendance.  That's a lot.  Learned the game would be broadcast on ESPN, 7 P.M.  I turned it on in hopes of seeing the G-dot  (among 100K?  Get serious.)  If you know me, you are aware that I'm not the greatest sports fan - name the sport, I'll find something else to do.   Now, that's not true when it comes to Texas Tech sports.  That's different.

I watched the entire Banana Ball game.  That was entertaining.  Fun.  Might be willing to watch another.  If you know nothing about this - Google!!  The rules are funny.  This game didn't end in a tie; but, if it had, that would have been a fun happening.  Look up the rules, too.   

3.  Recently noted that I am starting to post more on Facebook than here.  That doesn't make sense.  Here is an example:

     3A.  MAY DAY.  When I as in the 4th grade, we moved to Crete, Nebraska.  My father worked for Standard of Indiana running the 'logging' truck for oil exploration.  We moved a lot in my elementary years.  Crete celebrated May Day.  We dressed in Holland costumes w/ wooden shoes & made a May pole - which we had practice "for."  I know May 1st is celebrated in Russia .... No idea what wooden shoes have to do with Russia.  Moved to Odessa, TX for the 5th grade.  Never saw or heard of May Day since.  

     3B.  As an addition to this - that would have been about 1949-50.   One of my memories of Crete was that we drove to Lincoln on day to see Harry Truman as he passed through on his campaign train.  He stepped on the back platform and made a short speech.  I might mention that he was elected in 1948.  That messes with my memories a bit.  My younger brother Pat was born in Fowler, Kansas in April of 1949.  You can see my problem here.  Something is wrong.

     3C.  In Crete they have snow.  My folks bought me shoes which had grooves in the sole.  Later in life, I heard these called waffle stompers.  A memory I have is that with snow and ice and going out to play at recess, there was a pile of snow which all the boys would climb and slide down...on the feet, no sleds.  When I did this, the other boys would yell at me because my waffle stompers would  cut grooves in the ice.   I was abused as a child.  I need counseling.

     3D.  Another Crete memory (for band people) is:  I was in the Crete H.S. band in the 4th grade.  The band room was on an upper floor of a big red brick building.  Entrance was made by climbing up the outside fire escape.  In one of my 1st days in band, the director said to play the Bb concert scale.  I played the Bb scale on my cornet.  This was the day that I learned that this scale was the C scale on the cornet.  It's funny how I can remember this so vividly.  But, I learned how to transpose for the "concert" scale terminology.  

     3E.  We had a black 1948 Hudson.  My father bought 2 trailers - one  was the 53 ft trailer that big truckers pull down the highway.  The 2nd was a one bedroom trailer, common.  They were placed in an L shape.  My father remodeled the big trailer into a kitchen, dining room, living room, and one bedroom.   At night we 3 older boys slept in the little trailer & the parents slept in the big one with little brother Pat.   The middle of the little trailer was fixed into a radio repair shop which my father used as a 2nd  income.    My mother taught piano lessons when she could.

oh, enough of that.   Nebraska was cold.  I was glad to get to Texas when I could.  One year in Odessa.  Moved to Levelland for my oldest brother's senior year in H.S.  He grad in 1952.

closing - take care - find a Banana Ball game.  Fun.

mtz

Marshall and the Crosley

 

 

I know that I have sent this out before.  This is my oldest brother, Marshall, a Senior at Levelland High School.  The car is a Crosley station wagon, red; I'm thinking it was a 1947 model - could be wrong.  3 on the floor, stick shift.   My father had a love for weird little cars, way before tiny cars were accepted as normal.   Also had a 1952 blue Crosley pickup and a 47 English Ford.   

The year was about 1953.  At one time, boys in Levelland picked up this car and set in above the steps to the HS gym.   Apparently, it wasn't too heavy.   As an FYI, Crosley was made by the Crosley radio company and sold through Crosley stores at this time. 

We moved to Levelland in 1952 for Marshall's last year in HS.  He made some life long friends.  

law suit

 Sometimes I get these post card announcements about a pending class action law suit to which I can become a member - no cost to me.  Sometimes (again) I say, "Sure, why not?"  And, I'll complete the paperwork to share in the bounty.

Today, I checked my bank account online.  There in the middle of the sheet it said:  proceeds.   

Aseltine v BANA Class Settlement

They deposited the amount directly into my bank account.   now, I can tell you, I have never given anyone my bank account number - ever.  Oh, No.  Why would you do that?  Oh, No.

But there it was.  

WE WON!!!

My share?

$0.18

I have not the slightest idea what this is about - it rings no bells.  That's not enough to buy a Big Gulp.

eighteen cents -- joy, joy, joy

M

ANNOUNCEMENT

 I have a long list of subjects to write about - or, if you prefer, about which to write...  I have to get inspired.

But - this needs to be written.  

On Feb. 12th -  not the 13th, and only God knows why it wasn't the 14th - and maybe he doesn't know either ....

My youngest granddaughter got engaged.  My other two granddots are not.   Following logic, she will marry - date not yet announced - and, eventually, have a child or more.  

That will make me a Great Grandfather.

So congratulations to Kayla and Ryan.  The fun is about to begin.

Thus endeth the announcement.   more to come

This will be a ramble in the life of - me

 Let's  start this out with a corny joke:

Knock Knock

Who's there?

ICE

Ice who?

Gesundheit

==================== Call me if you need to decipher

TODAY, THE 4TH OF FEBRUARY, 2026

Who'd a thought I'd last long?  My brother Marshall use to say to me, "It's a wonder nobody has killed you yet."   I try to be good and keep my mouth shut around strangers.  I try.

Moving on:  I went to my Dermatologist today.  Appointment was at 12 Noon.  A doctor with appts. at 12 noon.  My follow up appt in 6 months is at noon also.  That doesn't seem common.  Doc found spots on me.  Last time a lady doc cut out part of my upper lip.  My nose has had 2 chunks removed in the past. And, he brings out his gun that freezes parts of me.  I think he froze me 12 different times.  Truthfully, I lost count.    I pointed out a spot on the back of my skull under my soon to be bald spot.   I think that one equaled 7 squirts.  We joked about freezing my brain.  Some truth to it.  Doctor Ilse in Belton.  He is one of my favorites.   But, I have to come back in 6 months because of a couple of spots - normally, I get to last a year.

==========

this next entry may not make sense to a non-band director.  Skip it if you wish.  At night sometimes, my legs hurt - it's not really a pain - more like an ache.  I get up and walk around a bit.  I'll sit on the side of the bed for a while - sitting posture seems to help - And, I'll amuse myself with facebook.  I bore easily and give it up.  

Well, the other night I saw this post where this person had spent an entire day looking at the music listing on the uil required music list.  Maybe an explanation?  Public schools in Texas go to U.I.L. competitions.  It's a process.  Music groups - bands, choirs, orchestras, solos, ensembles of all sorts    -- have to play songs off this list.  It's a process.   There is a committee at the State level that reviews music and chooses what is on the list.  There are hundreds - no thousands of songs on the complete list.  You play based upon your school size - class - etc.  It's a process.

Well, this person had spent all day on a Saturday looking at the complete band list of songs.  SHE - I later learned it was a she - made a list of composers - based upon  skin color and sex.  Her list showed that most songs were written by white men.  She spent the entire day to figure that out.  Now there are some fine pieces of music written by females, blacks, browns, & Asians.  I wouldn't argue that point at all.  But she felt that not enough music is on the list.  

There is a process for getting your music on the list.  It is not easy.

So she posted her list.  People made comments.  A person from somewhere near the east coast posted that conductors come to that State to direct all-state groups and bring their "old white man prejudices" with them - I assumed that conductors don't play music by women.  That ticked me off.  It was 3 a.m.; my legs hurt; I was tired; and she said something that was stupid.  Let me explain:  a conductor picks music by what he likes - fits the group - and so forth.  NOBODY sits around and worries if it is written by a female.

I shouldn't have, but I did express my views on this nonsense.  I should have gone back to bed.  Later, I learned that the group was the Women Band Directors International.  Boy did I set them off.  I was burnt.  It went on for days.  I did go back on and apologize for entering their domain; however, I stood by my entree.   NObody cares if it is written by male or female.   I did have several people who jumped in on my side - mostly men.  

So I learned 2 things:  #1 look at the name of the group before leaping into a fire.

                                    #2  prepare to be burned alive.

===========================

short subject:  we had ice like crazy last week.  It was 2 inches thick outside my garage door.  Terrible

Well that wore me out.  I'll come back later and add another post.  Politics of all kinds just gets me in trouble.  .  .  .  and, I might add, I'm never wrong!!   

weather

 I was going to write another entry.  Then, it got cold; and, I quit.

The end of....

 Lo & behold I say un 2 U - tis the 25th day of December - Christmas Day.

Not much going on here; how about there?  I'm sitting here by the computer reading nonsense & looking at Facebook posts that are not what I'm looking for.  My dog Sadie is on my lap with her front paws on the window sill looking out over the neighborhood, hoping for someone to walk past, preferably walking a dog, so she can bark at them.

It's been a quiet morning.  Daughter is at work.  Her dogs have gone to visit their Uncle Thomas while my family comes to visit with their dogs.  Some dogs  can be a bit pushy with other dogs.  Sadie stays here because she is my dog and this is her home.   Come the 27th, she turns 11 yrs old, I believe.  She doesn't care either way.

Years ago - after I first started teaching -- say 6 or 7 years in -- Christmas rolled around and we were pretty broke as teachers.  The wife was staying home with our new borns while I taught for a teacher's salary.  She would get mad at me every year because of the expense of Christmas - the tree - children's presents - and worse - presents for all of my family and her parents.  I had several tense moments over this.  

Now, remember that as I take you back to my first teaching gig in Sudan, Texas.   I am not a social person.  I have trouble interacting with adults.  You might say I am a bit intimidated by others.  And I was worse when I was in my lower 20s.  One year the Sudan H.S. teachers decided to have a Christmas party.  We were to bring one gift each.  Who knows what I took.  They did a game where the gifts were placed in a central pile and in order, we each pulled out a gift.  But, people who followed you could steal your gift or choose a new one.  I've heard of this being called White Elephant  something.  I simply call it the grab bag. We played party games and had the grab bag.  

One of the party games was answering questions.  My question was to name one of the Beatles.  You'd think that would be easy.  Not for me.  I'm the fresh out of classical music school void of any social experiences and popular music.  They could not believe that I didn't know any of the names.  This was traumatic as you can tell since I still remember the event after so many years.  But, I regress.  The grab bag made an impression on me.

Back forward.  My wife's mad at me for wanting to buy presents for family who I know will be getting gifts for us.  I remembered the grab bag.  Now my family was one mother (a female as you might guess). my father, and 3 brothers.  We got my mother a gift.  I started buying little things that I could wrap trying to not spend much.   

'When we went home, I threw all the wrapped gizmos on the floor and introduced my father and 3 brothers to the game.  It was a success.  Tools - flashlights - candy - etc.

That started something.  The next year each of my family threw things in the pile and my wife and I joined the fray.  Now that would have about  1965 or so.  The grab bag has stayed in the family continuously since then.  As my brothers married and had children, all were included.  It worked pretty good for large family gatherings.

Saturday, my kids and their kids will be here.  Two of the g-girls are bringing boyfriends (sigh) as they should.  It is another sign of aging.  12 of us will continue the festival.  and so it goes.

Our rules:  draw numbers from a bag - #1 selects first from the pile on the floor.  If you touch a package, it is yours.  You can point out something on the bottom and pull it out carefully trying not to touch anything else.  #1 opens and displays.  Depending upon gift, all oooo and ahhhhhh or laugh.    Now, #2 selects a package - #2 can steal #1s gift or pick a new gift from the pile.    If #2 steals, then #1 gets to rechoose from the pile.  Both are opened -- oooos and ahhhhhs and / or laughs.   #3 turn:  select from pile or steal from #1 &/or #2.    If a steal happens, #1 or #2 goes back to the pile again.

We have installed a 3 steal rule.  Once a gift has been stolen 3 times, it remains with that person and is safe.    Everyone gets to pick or steal.   Numbers are replaced and redrawn,  Sequence starts over.  Being #1 is not the best location.  Being last is the best.   At the end, there may be an odd number of gifts with some left over on the floor.   Usually, we redraw and let those who have the lowest numbers choose from the pile.  No stealing at this point.  One year, we just let the youngest children finish up the pile.

I remember one year, my brother Marshall - the oldest - not prone to follow rules, he would steal from people items which he thought his daughter would like.  That is not in the spirit of the game.  It all worked out - nobody ever gets mad or unhappy.  Some years, when my family leaves to go home, I find certain questionable gifts left behind under a chair or behind a cushion.  Not all gifts are great gifts.  As I tell them each year:  

All that glitters is not gold.  All that is gold does not glitter.  In the words of Dennis the Menace, "Wrapping paper is pretty, but it is what's underneath that counts."  One year a blue sofa pillow was left behind.  My wife latched on to it.  Now it is a permanent resident of her rocking chair.  

Enough of this ramble.  A bit of family news.  I had colitis last September or October - who remembers that far back?  Doctors made me do a colonoscopy 2 days before Thanksgiving.  I passed.  The doctor was pleased with his view and how clean I had cleaned my system ahead of time.

My wife is a bit unsteady on her feet at time.  I got a walker type thing and put it in the shower.  Then, I took a shower chair that I found in an estate sale and placed it in the shower.  She goes in - sits - cleans. About a week past, she scooted forward on the seat to plant her bare feet better for standing, she slid off the front of the little stool.  It was about a 15" drop down -not bad - but her back hit the chair as she went down.  Now we have a deal on her wrist.  Press the button and an alarm rings throughout the house.  

I nearly had a heart attack when she pressed that button sitting on the floor of the shower.  My heart went thumpedy thump thump thump.  Stepping into the bathroom I asked her what she was doing on the floor.  She told me nicely.  We struggled together and pulled her up off the floor.  She did not hit her head.  The back, right side, hurt.

2 days later after much moaning and discussing, I couldn't stand it anymore.  It was my day for my annual wellness check with our doctor.  I took her along.  The second the nurse saw my wife struggle to stand up, all was wonderful  They worked my wife into the schedule - we were sent to the Xray place in Belton - a drug was prescribed for pain.   Long, too-long, story finish:  She broke 2 ribs in that trip to the floor.  So, drugs have been taken - pain is less - we are on the road to being cured.

With that, I say  MERRY CHRISTMAS.

May your New Year be filled with blessings.  I'm sure mine will be.   

Aside note:  I am NOT going to proofread this.  Lazy, that's me.  Not enough OCD.

mIkE m   December 25, 2025

Old Dad Joke OR Dad's old joke

 Never play pickleball with a cymbal.

It makes a terrible racket.

-----------------

speaking of pickleball - I heard that a ritzy California community has banned pickleball in their town.

Go figure.

----------------

Rained yesterday and this morning.     .41" yesterday    .82" today  =  1.23" total.   Predicted total was between 3 & 5 inches.  I'll believe it when I see it.  More rain coming about Monday.  We'll see.

----------------

In the very near future I will be having a colonoscopy.  Yep, one of them.   I have a full day of "prep" to take my mind off the fact that I am not eating all day.  I can definitely say, "I hope everything comes out all right."

I had a bout with colitis about 2 months ago.  Two different doctors at 2 different times told me to do it.  At 85 yrs old, you don't get that often.  Usually, they say forget it - if you have cancer you'll die of old age before the cancer will get you.  I don't believe in that latter philosophy.  I believe in the old adage (I just made up):   The longer you are alive, the more you live.   

Their philosophy is so comforting.  

----------------------------

We should be seeing some family this Thanksgiving.  That'll be nice.  I watched an episode of Texas Country Reporter last night.  They had a bit about a guy in Grand Prairie - think named Zavalla - ?? - who has BBQ place - has cancer in remission - uses his place to make money and give it to cancer research.  I was impressed with his attitude.  He said it was just a matter of time before the cancer comes back - "and it will come back."   I don't know if I could handle it that well.  Impressive young man.

--------------------------

For laughs I just clicked on the button that highlights certain words or phrases.  Click on the highlight and google will tell ya all about it.   I'm through.  I am  Cooking a whole chicken in my crock pot today.  Am anxious to see how it comes out.  No, I'm sorry, you are not invited to share.  Maybe next time.  Later, 

mtz

and P.S;  I am not going to click on any of these either.

HAP HAP HAPPY

Yesterday, November 4th, that was my 85th birthday.  Eighty Five sometimes long, sometimes short years.  I have memories from childhood and adulthood and, yes, seniorhood.  As a  bit of whatever,  I was born in the A.M. on 11-4-1940.  This was the day that Franklin D Roosevelt was elected to his 3rd term.  For many it was a special day.  I was born at home.  My 16 month old brother Jim was in  his baby bed next to the delivery bed watching the process.  He says that he doesn't remember.  My mom was the high school band director in Tecumseh, Oklahoma at that time.  I cannot remember a thing about that day.  I do attribute the event to my fear of drowning - you know.

----------

BITHDAY IS HERE!!!

Yesterday, I was up at the crack of doom (my daughter's expression) and had my blood drawn at the local clinic.  The Prostrate cancer thing still lingers over my head.  Apparently, I'm hanging in there as the PSA result was <0.01 -they tell me this is good.  My testosterone seems to be low.  What a surprise at 85.  I've been told you have to have testosterone for the prostrate to act up.  I don't know.  I wasn't trained in medicine - I went to a music school.

The med tech blood young lady (most ladies are young to me) poked my left arm as an orange cladded younger intern type watched on in awe - awe - not at me for not screaming out as I was poked  - but for the Girl Poker...cute word.

Left = came home  = picked up the wife and daughter and made a visit to a dentist in downtown Salado.  This was our first visit to same.  They gave us a ream full of papers to read and sign.  Why they need to know if I've ever had ingrown toe nails is beyond me.  The wife seems to always have a good time at any dentist. 

I went in fear.  My two front teeth have chips out - plus, I've been experiencing some mouth pain lately.  I am scared of dentist.  I went thinking that I need to replace all my front teeth with something else.  Now, a confession:  it has been 3 1/2 years since I've seen a dentist.  Some think that is a long time.  To me it is like getting a parole from jail.  

Fancy Dancy.  this dental office (Salado Dentist office) has every bell and whistle one might imagine.  The X-rays showed up on a big screen as "she" took the photos.  Amazing stuff.   Long story short:  (too late) we both passed with flying colors.  Amazing stuff.  I was less stressed in this environment than ever before.  I will be going back; but, I don't expect a clean bill every time I go.  Scared to death I am.  

Aside: because I talked to them about my front teeth worries, I learned that my dentist played clarinet in school.  My hygienist played played flute and it seems most of her family are musicians of one sort or another.   Give me another "Amazing."  

We left and stopped at Schlottsky's  for a sandwich.  (never could spell that word)  I love their original sandwiches plus the hot sauce.  A short trip to HEB AND  we were home.  Now, is that NOT your idea of a great birthday adventure?  Loved every minute.

-----

I really like - but don't like - Facebook.  I went on yesterday and typed a short bit about turning 85.  The birthdate is not in my profile.  Getting people to tell me Happy Birthday  is not what I live for.  I felt Number 85 should be announced somewhere.  Maybe it will show someone else they still have a future.  Nearly 60 people responded nicely to me.  No hateful prods.

THE DAY AFTER....

I feel no different.  Went to bed last night about midnight as usual.   Something happened and I slept till 11:30 a.m.  I'm retired.  I can sleep as much as I wish.  I was up at 2:15, 4:25, 6:58, and, then, 11:30.  I get my exercise at night.

see ya - @ #85 ---- or as one of my favorite people use to say: "cool beans."

mtz  

p.s. my blog program want to add a feature which connects google to my glob.  The highlighted words are their doing, no mine. 

Time for another Pot Pouring (Potpourri)

 Coming to the end of October.  Temperatures have started down.  I've been able to go outside and do some stuff without sweating to death.  Of course, today we have 85% humidity.  What do they say?  It's not the heat, it's the humidity.  How true.

1.)  I bought my wife some gum yesterday at the store.  It's been a while.  She loves gum.  Use to be it was only Double Bubble.  Now it seems to be Extra Spearmint.  She loves gum.  I don't.  I don't like to chew it; I don't like to watch others chew.  My nickname is not Chewy.  

2.)  Now I use to chew gum.  Thought I was cool chewing with my lips apart just a bit.  Tried not to make smacking noises - just look cool.  Over time I evolved into Dentine gum:  tastes good, small pieces.  About 1974 or 75 I was chomping away and bit the inside of my gums just one too many times.  That was it.  I put the gum away and haven't chewed since.  Wish I could remember the exact day and time.  I know all of my readers would relish that bit of info.

3.)  Couple days ago, I was opening the front door to start the day.  Often, we'll leave it open with a dog cushion close so the dogs can watch the traffic - and bark - and be fussed at for barking.  Sadie was resting on her couch excited with the prospect of looking out.  Something fell off the cushion onto the middle of the hallway.   It was a dead rat!  Sadie had been out in the back yard after the big rain - she was soaked - and killed another rat.  Bless her heart.  She had to carry it into the house and gently place it on the cushion.   She didn't argue MUCH when I picked it up by the tail and relocated same in a trash bag.   No blood.  Just a dead rat.

4.)  Why yes, it did rain.  1:24" on Friday  and 1.15 on Saturday.  We've not seen rain in over a month.

5.) I've been spending the last couple of days placing blow-up Halloween things in the front yard.  It tires me out.  The bending and so forth - hard on an old man.  We've got to get ready for Friday night.  I think we have as much as 10 sacks of candy ready.  Never before have I lived in a neighborhood with so many trick or treaters.  Steady stream.  Last year the first show up at 6:15.  We were back inside by 8:30 or so. 8 bags of candy last year.  My daughter doesn't have a brain.  She let some grab a handful - and others she overloaded the child.  I tried to tell her this was not out job - to feed the world.  She doesn't believe.

6.) Had a flashback today.  Watching TV when an adv. came on with little girl jumping rope.  I remarked that I never could jump rope.  That's not entirely true.  If I had the rope in my hand, I'd be okay.  But, get between 2 people twirling it blindly.  Not a prayer.  Jump 2 ropes at the same time?? Ya gotta be kidding.  Not a prayer.

So right now I am gonna admit something else.  I surely hope it doesn't destroy anyone's vision of me as a child.  I could not jump rope.   Playing Jacks was out of the question.  The boys shot marbles.  I'd do that  until they started playing "keepers."  Too cheap, that's me.  Keep my marbles for myself.  Hop scotch was a bit too much as were the monkey bars.  Who can swing around on those things?  Not to mention hanging upside down by your legs.  No way!   Had a PE class where they made us do somersaults and the like.  Somersaults scare me to death.  Cheerleaders do all those twirling around things.  Not for me.  I had a trumpet.  I could do musical gymnastics.  Luckily none of my PE classes had a rope hanging from the the ceiling to climb.  I would have failed PE.

I remember PE in the 7th grade - Levelland jhs...required attendance.  The coach handed out basketballs. We went out back on a paved area with a goal and played horse - daily.  When we weren't playing, we'd sit in the shade and repeat dirty jokes - or at least we thought they were dirty.   Yes, I'd always lose at Horse.  As winter approached - as it does in the Panhandle - we stayed inside.  The coaches thought dodge ball was the game of the future - and they tried to teach rassilin' - not wrestling as is done many places.  There were no rules.  Grab and roll around the floor.  No structure - no results - just killing time.  I wonder why I hated PE?

Didja know that when you play basketball - and you have the ball - that the other team tries to jerk it out of your hand and knock you down?  I learned that in 7th grade.  Whar's my horn?

7.) I'll end with this.  The on-off button on my computer is broken.  Oh, it still works.  But it has fallen down inside the computer.  I have to use a long blade to reach down in computer and turn the machine on.  It's A Miracle.    More later.  I try to write more later.  Things get in the way.  Right now, it is 5 o'clock.  It is dog feeding time.  If you think for one moment that I can put that off, you're wrong.  No proof reading of this missive.  Correct the misprints for yourself.

MMtz

 

OCT. 7TH

 So, I'm practically 85 yrs old.  That makes me born in 1940 before the big war #2.   My parents were born in 1910 - both.  Mom near Kaw City, Oklahoma (now under the Kaw lake) and my father in Temple, Okla.  I suppose both had good young lives.  They never said.  I never asked.  After they were gone, I inherited a big box which included stuff from their senior years in high school - that would have been 1928.   

Apparently, in them thar days, seniors created a scrapbook of their senior year - these were pre-printed scrapbooks to be completed.  Not surprising, my mother did hers beautifully.  What is surprising is that my father completed his too.  I enjoyed reading through them and would never discard.  That makes them nearly 100 years old.  I fear that none of my children, much less my grandchildren,  will be interested in them; and, eventually, they will be discarded in the trash.  A shame really....

My mom's father was the local barber.  How good?  Back in those days, I think they used a bowl to trim hair.  Shaving was extra.  Who knows if he dealt in leaches.  He had an old, used barber chair in his backyard that we could play on.  You could get real dizzy twirling around and around (with help) on the chair.  It's a wonder we never were maimed.   

My father's father worked for the city of Temple, Oklahoma.  I understand he invented something that went into their water system that made everything better.  Water system in the early 1900s - that's a think-it-through.  Anyway, as a reward he received free water for the rest of his life - which was fairly long.  They lived out in the country most of the time by the creek which fed water into Temple.  He ran the equipment.   [I use to think this was spelled  "equiptment" until a fellow teacher in Sudan, TX corrected me one time - forever greatful / grateful / grrrreeeatfully   I  wuz/am. ]

I might mention that my grandfather had a taste for the beer.  He made his own forever and drank it with gusto.  Yes, that would have taken him through the prohibition era.  I have no real proof that he ever sold it...rumors abound.   At least 2 of my uncles on that side enjoyed way too much alcohol.  Always figured it was an inherited trait.  My own father never touched the stuff.  I find that interesting.  Even when my mom would bring some into the house - or - we were visiting other relatives, he never messed with it.  I saw too many drunks in my day. I was always afraid to even taste the booze.  You never crave what you never have had.

More on this subject later.  Today is my father's birthday.  He would have been 115 years old - I think.  He was known to my grandchildren as  Mr. Grandpop.  We were trying to decide on a grandfatherly name back in 1962; &, he proclaimed,  "Mr."  So it was with all of his future grands.  

I ended up being a  "Papa."  The Mister never seemed to work for me.

and to conclude this one-sided conversation conclusively  -- 

Today I ordered my 2026 calendars from Calendars.com.  They have a 30% discount today with the Code  THISISBIG.  I do like to order the calendars early; then, it is over.  Ready for next year.  Not that you asked:   I get a dachshund engagement calendar for the kitchen cabinet - really helps me remember not to forget what I seem to not be able to remember.  Then I get one of those daily, tear-off dachshund calendars.  365 different doxies to smile at.  We use to get an Owl calendar for my wife.  But, things are different now, and owls have slipped back into silence.   I have added a Basset wall calendar for my live-in daughter.  I believe it makes things a bit better around here.   30% off - not a bad deal.

Love ya, later

m

Really?

 Here's one for you.  

One of my daughters lives in Waxahachie.  She walked out to her mailbox yesterday evening.  On the way back she saw saw something on her porch.  hmmmmm

It was a cell phone plugged into her porch plug place.  She called the police.  They came over and took the phone.  Within 5 minutes after the police left, some man was banging on their front door yelling that he wanted his cell phone back.   She re-called the police.

The man was soon found.  He is listed by the police as "homeless."   They had a long talk.  He has been living across the road and down a ways in the trees.  They gave him back his phone and pointed him away.

That's something.

Daughter now has bought a ring camera and installed it.  The story could be told in three times more words.  I abbreviated.  That is something to me.  I wonder who pays his phone bill;  I wonder how he gets his phone bill; I wonder where he gets the money to pay the phone bill; I wonder if his name is Bill.

mtz

I'll add a p.s.   My son had a blackberry size mass removed off his kidney on Monday.  They are awaiting the results.  What is amazing to me (other than doctors have this skill) is that it was found because he had a kidney stone ... the Xray after that found the spot.   Had he not had the stone, then what?  As one of my children says:  "God moves in mysterious ways." 

Blackberry definition:  The fruit, not the telephone.

OK, a 2nd p.s.

My wife turned 85 on Monday.  Whoever would have thought that I would ever be married to an 85 year old lady.  I don't turn 85 till November.  Does this make her a cougar?