And so it continues.....

I am woman on the edge, I tell ya.....a woman on the edge. If there were any bridges close by, I think I would be jumping off one of them.

I wrote a HUGE email to a friend and just as I was ending it.....my computer shut down and re-booted itself, snickering and laughing under its breath. This is the memory problem I've been having and its slowly driving me crazy. I can't WAIT until my computer guy gets here with the extra memory.

So, then after a re-boot, I'm too tired to re-write the entire email again....so I figure I will do it the next day. Mind you.....I'm having to put up with this constant......chirp.....from the battery back-up. But its either that or no computer. I am not strong enough to move it and plug the outlets into something else or I sure would do it.

Late last night, before retiring, I decided to check the weather. I noticed that my keyboard was not working. All three lights were lit up....which I've never seen before.....but it was not working. I said to hell with it and went to bed. This morning I decide to pull the CPU out from the shelf alongside the computer desk and check the back to see if the keyboard had somehow gotten unplugged.....which I doubted since the lights were on. I pulled the CPU out and checked the fittings, then rebooted. YAY....the keyboard worked.....but the mouse didn't.

Now I'll tell you.....you can get by without a keyboard if necessary. You can use an on-screen keyboard and your mouse to type. Its slow and tedious, but it does work. I've had to do it before. But you cannot get by without a mouse. Well, I guess you CAN....but I don't know how. So for ME....I can't get by without a mouse. So I had to pull the CPU back out and check the fittings again and this time I got both the keyboard and the mouse to work. My self-confidence was beginning to rise. It fell through the basement shortly thereafter as I realized that now I have no sound. I'm done. I'm not touching another frickin' thing until my guy gets here......and if he doesn't get here soon, there will be a taped outline of my body on the living room floor.

It'll get ya.....

Lately its been ...."everything seems to be going wrong" around here. Hmmmm...that prompted me to wonder if Mercury is retrograde again. I checked and its not. Not that it would have made a difference one way or another....it just would have given me an excuse to use. "Oh yeah....Mercury is retrograde, you know....and that's when stuff goes wrong". But...no such luck.

I guess we can start with Blogger going haywire. I have been having problems with my Followers widget on Blogger for months and its never been fixed. I figure they must need some time to work on it.....and I'll be patient. In the meantime....if you don't see your avatar in my Followers widget or if you just plain don't see Followers at all....it isn't because I removed them. I guess they are still visible if you use Chrome. A lot of people have told me they can see them fine.....so yeah, it could be just me. I use Firefox.

Anyway, Blogger went goofy and some people lost a lot of stuff. I didn't lose too much, some comments and my update about my ......shudder.....eye. I guess we should all keep back-ups of what we post. What's that? You do? Oh well.....I don't and I guess I should.

Then came our usual weekly ritual.....me and my family's. We have supper and a movie....maybe two movies. We had Mexican that night and then settled in for a good movie. We put the disc in the VCR and........nothing. It wouldn't read the disc.....hell, it wouldn't even acknowledge that it was a VCR. At that point I think it may have thought it was a riding lawn mower. We fooled around with it and fooled around with it. More than an hour went by. My mood was getting dark. Now this poor little VCR, that is probably 8 years old, if not more.....has been a good one but it has been acting up here and there. Things like you having to rap sharply on top of it or the drawer won't open to accept the disc. Just small stuff like that. But it prompted me to buy another VCR around Christmas. I found one on sale and so, knowing that I would need it shortly, I purchased it. Notice I said Christmas! It has been sitting in the box, unopened, next to my TV in the living room ever since. Neither my daughter or I know anything about VCR's and everyone I asked to hook it up for me always said, "yeah, sure,.....I'll do that for you next weekend....tomorrow....next month....in my next life." Needless to say, it never got hooked up, let alone opened up.

So we decided, how hard can this be? Kids can do this for god's sake. You just take one cable off the old one and put it in the opening labeled the same in the new one. Piece of cake!

We pulled everything out from the shelf under the TV (Good Lord it gets dusty under there!). I did the brain wracking job of putting the batteries in the remote. Hey! I had to do my part too. Well....seems as though the cables I have hooked up to the old VCR have a pin in the fittings and the new cables have color coded plugs. Of COURSE the new VCR did not have any places for a fitting that had a pin. This truly puzzled us and we ended up putting everything back in the box. We replaced the old VCR right where it had been and stared at it for a while, our brains whirling. I must say that perseverance paid off in this respect because after fooling with it for only another hour or so, we did get it to acknowledge the disc and to actually play it without further incident. Of course we were afraid to even so much as sneeze during the movie in fear that the vibrations would make it revert to thinking it was, perhaps, a coffee pot and therefore refuse to play the disc.

We had a terrific thunder-storm later that night. I slept through most of it. In the morning my computer would not turn on. It was completely dead! Upon further investigation, I found that my Comcast modem was also dead. I tried to reset it and it laughed at me. Now, picture this....if you possibly can. Underneath my computer desk I have a conglomeration of wires that is beyond description. I am afraid to mess with any of them and leave it all to the guy who works on my computer. If it wasn't for the fact that most of my stuff had power and was working in that room, I would have thought I had blown a fuse. I was at a loss and so I called my computer guy. The first thing he did was tell me to check the surge protector power strips and that he'd be out on Sunday to take a look. Now....he didn't say he'd FIX it on Sunday....just that he'd take a look. That always makes me nervous.

Well, I did find that my computer and modem are plugged into a battery back-up system. I do that because power failures have fried two computers over the years. Somehow the battery back up had been turned off. When I turned it back on.....I had power to the computer and to the modem once again.....but now I have this irritating "chirp" that is going on. The back-up system doesn't seem to be recharging. I have a feeling that it is dead. He'll be here in an hour and will tell me.

Once I had the computer up and running I felt like I belonged in the world again. (sad, isn't it?) I have since noticed that my adding machine and my answering machine are not working. I'm hoping that its because they have become unplugged when I was messing in the jumble of wires under there. I went to recharge my cell phone and the battery is no longer taking a charge. I really can't complain....I've had the phone for over 10 years. Are you seeing a pattern here?

So.....while I had the system running, I went to my bill-paying sites and scheduled my payments through the end of this month......just in case. Yep, just in case he has to take my computer and I am without for a period of time. See? I'm trying desperately to head off Murphy at the pass.....but if there is possibly ONE tiny way something can go wrong......of course it will. But, you knew that, didn't you?

Update: My computer guy was here.(BLESS his heart) The new VCR is hooked up and the old one that is temperamental about working is now in the den. It will play VHS tapes and I have a bunch of those so I might as well keep it. The battery back-up, in all likely-hood took a 'hit' during the storm. He says those back-ups can only take one hit and then that's it. He's had his for 10 years and its still working. This is my second one in 5 years. Go figure. Anyway, he'll be back in a few days....I'm getting a memory upgrade.

Well.....this just stinks

Yep, here I am still up....bright eyed and bushy tailed and its 3 o'clock in the morning. I have an eye doctor's appointment today and I'm extremely nervous over it. I do not want another shot in the eye!

So, hopefully, I won't have to have one.....but my condition has not improved that much.....although it HAS improved. I just can't predict what's going to happen and that's making me fearful.

And.....another thing. I might as well say it, although I am ashamed to. My 40 year old son once again ignored me on Mother's Day. No card, no phone call....not even a drive-by wave. He only lives a mile and a half away so that's no excuse. I guess it wouldn't bother me so much if I hadn't gone to hell and back raising him. He was/is ADHD and I suspect some bi-polar thrown in for good measure. Back then they didn't have names for that stuff.....he was just known as a kid who was into everything (a la Dennis the Menace) and I received a phone call from the school on a daily basis. Lord give me strength. Well, my daughter and granddaughter showed up on Sunday and we had a lovely day. Thank God for her. She brought dinner, flowers and cards and most of all......Love! My grandson called .... he was unable to come over as he worked 14 hours that day.

So I did get remembered but it still hurts to have one of your children neglect you on those special days. Especially when you don't even know why. I hope none of you ever experience it. No matter how hard you try to protect yourself from it.....it still does hurt.

Update: I DID have to have another shot in my eye (shudder) but the doctor feels that this should be my last one. He says the eye is healing nicely and wants to see me again in 2 months.

An award.....thank you

to Orea of The Higher Voice for giving this to me. I am supposed to list 7 things about myself and then pass this award on to 15 NEWLY FOUND blogs. Sorry to say, every newly found blog I wanted to pass this award on to already has been given it! I was involved with the A-Z Challenge and even though I did find some new blogs I loved, I really didn't have time to do much searching once I was through posting each alphabet post. So 15 NEW blogs is kind of a tall order for me.

Now.....since its my blog....(heh heh heh) I'm going to change things a bit. I am awarding this award to you if you are on my sidebar as a blog I frequent and love. Yep.....yours for the taking.....and well-deserved too, cause if your blog wasn't fantastic, it wouldn't be on my sidebar. So please accept it....from my heart.
Now, the 7 things.
1. I enjoy watching some cartoons.
2. I talk to my plants.
3. Animals love me, even guard dogs will let me pet them. (blowing their owner's minds)
4. If someone hurts me, I never really recover from it or forget it.
5. I'm terrified of doctors and dentists and will make myself sick thinking about an upcoming appointment.
6. I've always wished I was musically inclined (cannot carry a tune with a basket or play any instrument)
7. I had 3 imaginary friends when I was little (plight of an only child).

So there you have it. Please take your award and pass it on. And, thank you again, Orea.

Is it just me.....

.....is it because I'm older now and more....uh....cranky? Or do some of these things get to you too.

I was grocery shopping the other day. I hate to grocery shop. So I realize my attitude is not the best when I have to do this chore. But anyway.....I'm behind this woman who chooses to stop, in the middle of the walkway, between produce and bakery, where there isn't enough room to pass her on either side and make adjustments to herself. By this I mean, adjust the bra, adjust the hair....it may have been a wig....take off her eyeglasses and clean them on her scarf....by this time my patience level had reached O. After I uttered "excuse me" a couple times, she jumped, clutched her chest and apologized profusely. Yeah, yeah, lady....just move so I can get this dang shopping out of the way. Although I didn't say that, I just smiled forcibly and said, "that's ok" and went about my business. Why do we do that?? I know and SHE knows that its really NOT ok. Furthermore, she knows that I know she knows. Just once I'd like to really say....yeah, this time I'll overlook it, next time, I'm gonna draw down on ya just for being stupid.

When I get groceries, it seems I can never do this chore without the help of someone, usually the kindness of strangers. I am short. I have always been short. I've gotten shorter as I've aged, which pisses me off. I was always 5' tall. Now I'm 4'11. Anyway, I simply cannot reach items that are put on the top shelf if they are set more than halfway back on the shelf. No matter what, it seems like I have to have at least TWO items each trip that are positioned just so. My suggestion to grocery store managers.....why not put things on the top shelf that tall people use....like basketballs. Seriously though.....I know the top shelf has to hold SOMETHING I just wish it were things that I never needed. Have I mentioned that I hate grocery shopping?

This also brings to mind that it always seems like the item or items you need are being blocked by A) a store employee who is restocking B) a man who is searching for something with a puzzled look on his face or C) a frazzled mother with one of those carts the size of a Buick loaded with children.....or all of the aforementioned. Unless I'm in a particularly bad mood, I try and wait it out without saying anything, in hopes that they will take the hint and move but that doesn't always work. Once in a while you have to excuse yourself and attempt to reach the item.
And then they act all surprised. Well....jeez.....now why in the world did they think you were standing there for so long....admiring the view? their shoes? or just cause you're weird?

I'll end this with the parking lot. To the woman who repeatedly parks in the handicapped spot and who does not have a handicapped license or placard......I really don't think it negates the legal requirements for that spot if you sit in your vehicle reading while your passenger goes shopping in the store. You are still taking up the space that is designed for people who have difficulty walking because of a health reason and not because of laziness. You know who you are.....and shame on you. By the way, did you know the fine for illegally using a handicapped spot is $500.? Oh....and since our State needs money, a lot of those offenses are now being ticketed. Just sayin'......

I've got some movies to review so watch for that coming up in a few days. In the meantime, it looks like the s-word is finally out of here for a few months. My hope for a hot summer is slowly being diminished though. So far it has been unseasonably chilly. Every once in a while we experience a chilly summer and I fear this may be one of them. I feel bad for my own selfish reasons (hot weather = less pain)....but on a larger scale its so bad for tourism and our state could really use those extra funds right now. We'll just have to wait and see......Mom Nature, as you know, has a mind of her own.

The most unforgettable cat ever......

has also got to be included if I'm talking about our pets. When my daughter was approaching 4, she wanted a kitty. I already had a dog, a toy Manchester terrier that thought she was a child....but she was a one person dog and that one person was me. She didn't want to have much to do with anyone else and when I wasn't home, she would hide under the bed and stay there until I came home. Don't think she was hiding because she was afraid....not at all. That dog thought she was a German Shepherd. She hid because she was bored with everyone else in the house except me. But this is about the cat.

I happened to stop at a garage sale about 2 miles from my house and in a tall cardboard box was what was left of a litter of kittens. Mom was an Angora and Dad was a charmer.....love 'em and leave 'em type....a Siamese. I glanced into the box and there were two left. They both were white but one had the bluest eyes I'd ever seen. I picked her up and she snuggled up under my chin and began to nurse on the collar of my blouse, her little paws kneading the material as she purred contentedly. I couldn't resist and so I brought her home. My daughter was delighted and promptly named her after our babysitter, Tina.

My dog was not impressed in the least. Tina loved her though and never stopped loving her as long as she lived. Once in a while they would play but they never fought. When my dog died (at 15) Tina went from room to room mournfully meowing. It was heartbreaking as it was obvious that she missed her K9 friend. She kept that up for over a week. Tina acted more like a dog than a cat. I'm not trying to be mean here....I'm just stating a fact. Most cats are aloof and independent but Tina would actually come when you called her. She would come in response to her name, as well as kitty, kitty kitty. She is pictured with this post sitting in her favorite place, the warm cable box. We lived in a subdivision in the outskirts of town and so she "went outside" to go potty. She never had a litter box until she was very old and I got her one to use because it was so bitterly cold outside that last winter and she was 17 by then.

Tina would stretch out her body and take her paw and jiggle the doorknob. This is how we knew she wanted outside. If she wanted a drink of water, she would jump on the bathroom countertop and meow until you turned on the faucet, then she would drink from it. When we moved and took up residence on a paved road with much more traffic I was always afraid that she would get hit by a car. A car just tipped her tail and broke it as she was running across the street one day. She was always proud to walk around with that tail straight up in the air like an exclamation point but for about 2 months until it healed, her tail was bent over half way up so it looked like an inverted capitol L. I honestly think she felt humiliated looking like that. It taught her a lesson though and after that she always sat and waited until no cars were coming before she would cross.

Everyone loved Tina. Even people who usually hated cats loved Tina. She had the best personality of any cat I've ever been around. However, one day my kids had found a tiny kitten, an itty bitty yellow striped ball of fluff. Of course they brought it home and wanted to keep it. I may have consented but our sweet, angelic, loveable Tina instantly turned into a demon, the likes of which I'd never seen. Emitting low guttural growls, ears flattened back against her head, tail swishing rapidly from side to side as she spit and hissed like a cat straight out of Hades, she backed the kitten into a corner. The tiny kitten spit, spat and hissed right back at her with its back arched. It was ridiculously funny but yet I had to be cautious. Tina still had her claws and I could tell she meant business. The tiny kitten had to go. Once out of the house, Tina morphed back into her original sweet purring self, as she cleaned her whiskers and eyed me knowingly.

One time Tina disappeared and I feared the worse. She had been spayed so I knew it wasn't that. I feared she may have been hit by a car. We looked and looked for her....my daughter was a weeping mess. After about a week or so, I heard the familiar thump she made when she jumped on the door, wanting inside. I couldn't believe it as I whipped open the door and there she was. Our snow white cat was dark gray, she was so filthy.....but she was ok. She was hungry as a bear though. I think she had gotten locked in the neighbor's shed.

Tina lived to be a little over 17. She had a heart attack and went quickly. She still holds a special place in our hearts. I wish I could tell you all the stories I have about her, but there just isn't enough blog space. If you're ever going to get a cat, my wish for you is that you find one as great as Tina.

KC.....was a family member

I don't believe I've talked about before on my blog. I guess its about time I gave her some recognition.

My daughter bought this precious Cockatiel for me one Christmas. I named her KC. I had just lost my Chihuahua to old age and was feeling pretty empty. It had been many years since I had owned a bird, which was a parakeet. I was still working every day at the time and wasn't sure I could devote enough time to teaching a bird everything I had taught my parakeet, but seeing that precious face, I was delighted and willing to try.

I had her for over 11 years and was told that was a pretty good age for a Cockatiel. She was never sick; I just found her laying on the bottom of her cage one morning.

Anyway, her wings were clipped and yet she was such a strong flyer, she could still fly for short distances. I have very fond memories of her flying down from her cage and walking that pigeon toed walk they do across the living room floor, climbing up onto my foot and walking up my pant leg onto my lap, from there up my arm to my shoulder and then give my hair a little tug and my ear a nibble, just to say HI. This bird was a pure delight. She would often follow me, on foot, down the hallway to the bathroom or one of the bedrooms. She would "answer" me with a chirp when I came home from work and also when I called her name. When I moved her cage so she could see out to the driveway, I could hear her loudly chirp as I got out of my car. I know she had seen me drive in. She'd keep that up until I came into the house and over to her cage to acknowledge her. Unlike humans, I guess the females of the species do not talk, so KC never uttered a word, just chirps in varying degrees of loudness and some off-color squawks I took as swearing when she got to playing a little too rough with her toys.

When I rescued the 4 year old Lhasa Apso and brought him home, I was quite leery as I didn't want anything to happen to KC. Of course, KC was fearless. The dog, however, didn't quite know what to think of this little feathered being. But he never hurt KC and would follow along behind her as KC walked on the floor, trying to turn her over with his nose so he could sniff her. In the first picture, that was KC's favorite place to perch when I was on the computer. There she could over-see everything I did and make suggestions. In the second picture, she is giving my grandson a KC kiss. She was the most loving bird and I sure do miss her. Its amazing how something so small and something that most people can be quick to judge as having NO brain....can surprise you with their intelligence, their capacity for love and how attached you become to them.

Z.....is for Zinnias

Look at them! How can you not love them. I will be the first to admit that they are not fragrant at all.....but the colors are so vibrant and alive!! My mom loved Zinnias and had bouquets of them all over the house.

Every year, she planted a huge flowerbed of nothing but zinnias in front of the barn. I think we had zinnias in just about every color possible. The flowerbed got full sun all day long and was a perfect spot for them. The bright array of colors could be seen from the road and when you pulled in our driveway it actually made you smile. Don't believe flowers can do that? Well, they can.

Every time I see zinnias, I think of my mom. Those are certainly fond memories. I sure do wish I could plant them here, but I live in a heavily wooded area and they would never grow without a lot of sunlight.

So, I settle for buying bouquets of them when I go grocery shopping. They make you happy and put a smile on your face just to look at them. They are one of my favorites. And you have to admit......we all need something to make us smile when we visit the grocery store nowadays.

There.....I've done it. This is "Z". I hope you've enjoyed taking the trip through the alphabet with me. I've made some new friends and I extend my sincere thank-you to all who have visited and especially to those who have left comments. I hope you will continue to come back again and again. Take care and no matter what, "keep smilin'".

Y.....is for Yankee

Even though I was mostly raised in the "north", at the time of my birth, my mom was living and working in Richmond, Virginia. After the war ended and Dad was discharged, we moved north where the family farm was. I always wished that our farm had been located there in Virginia or south of there because I'm not a fan of snow or cold.

I have always loved things "south". I love how they talk (I lost my southern accent after a few years living in the north), I love their recipes and I love their hospitality. In particular, there is nothing on the face of the earth more charming than a "southern boy". If I was going on a blind date and I found out he was from the south.....I liked him already. I dated three southern boys before marrying one of them.

It was in the early 60's and after our marriage, we went 'south' to meet his family. They could not come up north for our wedding....it was too costly for them plus his parents weren't in the best of health. He has a sister who is 5 years younger, which made her 15 at the time. She couldn't wait to meet her new sister-in-law (me). I will never forget when I met the family. They were very nice to me and used that grand southern hospitality to make me feel very welcome. Then his sister had a couple of her girlfriends come over to meet me....they were also 15. It really threw me when the one little wench threw up her hands and declared....."I just can't believe that JR married a YANKEE". (they are big on using initials for names down there). She said it like it left a bad taste in her mouth....but then chattered on about how much she loved my hair. It was an awkward moment and I experienced discrimination for the first time in my life. Oh I could have been mean and come back with a nasty remark.....but why and besides, I wasn't that kind of person. Here it had been 100 years since the Civil War and it made me wonder if all that hatred is still being secretly nourished and encouraged to grow. She was probably listening to bitterness from her grandparents. We have enough problems in this nation....so I hope those feuds have been put to rest. I love the south and her people.

And thinking about it, years later, it dawned on me.....I wasn't a Yankee.....I was born in what used to be a Confederate State. Besides..........being a Yankee.....is that such a bad thing now. Especially for those of us who weren't even alive during the 'war'.

X.....is for X many things

X is not only a letter of our alphabet, but its the Roman numeral for 10, as well as the legal signature for those who cannot read or write.

It can also stand for the X-Files, which was one of my favorite TV shows.....ever! It can stand for kisses or simply to mark a spot on a map. It can also stand for an 'unknown'.....such as "x" amount of dollars, etc. etc.

But I guess, for the purpose of the Challenge, I will talk about X being the legal signature of someone who is illiterate.

I wrote an essay in junior high school which placed me neatly in Advanced English for the next three years because my teacher was so impressed by it. The essay was about my grandmother and her struggles in a world that was pretty much alien to her. (He encouraged me to take up Journalism, by the way....but I decided on taking Art instead. Yeah....that was a wise choice.)

My grandmother (my father's mother) was a peasant woman in her native land. She did not know how to read or write in her own language. After coming to America with her son, who was then 16, she picked up on enough English to barely get by but she never did learn to read or write. She lived with us her entire life and my father took care of her after she was widowed. My dad communicated with her in their foreign tongue. Back then, I didn't give it much thought.....that grandma couldn't read or write. I gave it a lot of thought once I graduated and was out in the working world.

I am a Notary and see a lot of people who need their signatures notarized. Once in a while you get an unusual request. Not only do I have to see proper picture identification, I will not notarize something unless the person "signing" fully understands what they are signing. They don't have to explain it to me.....I just want to know that they understand the paper. You would be surprised how many people do not understand what they are about to sign. If someone cannot read.....then it goes without saying....I cannot notarize for them.

The point I'm trying to make....more than anything else....is the fact that we have so many people that can read and write.....but their education is so limited, either by their own actions (drop-outs) or because of inadequate school systems and they simply slipped through the cracks. This is a crying shame. I've seen teenaged boys who cannot spell simple words, let alone read them. What happened? How did these children slip through the cracks. You cannot drop out of school in elementary school......why weren't these deficiencies caught and remedied when they were young. Because no one cared.....that's why. (and I'm including parents in this) And this brings another thing to mind.....our elementary schools here no longer teach cursive. My grandson has a 17 year old friend who cannot sign his name....he can only print because he's never had cursive. When did schools drop this? My granddaughter who is now attending a private Christian school is taking cursive right now.

Somehow, these almost illiterate people think that if they can read well enough to play a video game.....well, then that's all they need. I'm telling you.....its downright scary when you think that this generation is going to be running the country someday. I'm going to get off my soap box now......and send a bunch of X's your way. Thanks for visiting.

W.....is for Writing

and I love to write. I not only love writing, I love the materials used to do so. Pens, pencils, paper, diaries, notebooks....I love them all. When I was much younger I would put my thoughts on paper and it was not meant for anyone else to read. Later on I used that method to "vent". It helped me so much, I can't even begin to tell you and I highly recommend it. Sometimes you can figure out the answers to your own dilemmas just by re-reading what you're written.

Soon, I discovered that typing helped me keep up with the words that flew out of my mind and I began to keep journals, typing them and putting the finished product in binders. Computers were heaven sent, as far as I was concerned. I could type, do corrections on the fly and even insert pictures in my journals, which I wrote out on a pretty regular basis. I didn't mince words either.....if I was angry, it went in there. I haven't written any of those daily journals in a few years now. Every once in a while, I'll take a binder down and read it just to remind myself of what my life was like back then. Some of it is pretty eye-opening. The blog has more or less substituted for the journals but of course I can't put everything in a blog.....I can only skim the surface.

A good friend of mine talked me into going to a specific website where a picture is shown and then you have to write either a poem or vignette using that picture as inspiration. She is a very talented writer and she enjoyed contributing. So, I did it and received so many compliments it amazed me. Even though I classify myself as a "moody" writer, (I have to be in the right mood in order to write well) I probably would have kept up with writing there except for an unfortunate incident in which a blogger friend (not the one who encouraged me to write).....someone I thought was a friend anyway...... hurt me deeply by making accusations in reference to my writing and it hurt......I didn't deserve it and it really did hurt. My faith forbids me to hold any animosity toward her so I don't but I also don't need toxic in my life.

So....."W" can also stand for "whew" and that must be said, while wiping my brow. I've nearly finished the alphabet and I've tried to pick things that were off the beaten path, so to speak.....in an attempt to make each one interesting. I must admit that W was the hardest one to write. Perhaps it was because I had this bad memory associated with it. Maybe by writing about it here, the wound will now completely heal.

V.....is for vehicle

....family owned and loved vehicle, that is. I come from a family who are sentimental car owners. We often keep our cars for long periods of time, especially if they were purchased new. My grandmother named her vehicles, which were always thought of as female. Cars, boats and ships are referred to as "she" or "her".....I wonder why that is. Anybody know the answer to that, I'd love to know the reason.

My parents also named their vehicles, but treated them as part of the family in addition to that. I'm surprised that mom didn't take a food tray to the garage for the car to have dinner! She was very sentimental over all their vehicles through the years. She put a horseshoe from my horse under the driver's seat so luck would travel with them and made throw pillows for the back seat to match the upholstery. When they would return from a long journey, mom would pat the car's dash as they exited at home once again and thank "her" for a safe journey.....after offering a little prayer of thanks to God first of course.

Well, when you're raised with this.....you more or less follow suit. I am sentimental with my vehicles too. Most of them, that is. The ones that I bought used and gave me trouble.....I had names for them all right, but none of them could be considered terms of endearment. On the other hand, I did have a couple used ones that I did feel a deep attachment to. My very first one, of course.....simply because it was my first vehicle, a 1957 Ford. Oh how I loved that car!

Another was a Corvair. Probably not too many people remember them....but I loved mine. The engine was in the rear like the VW. It was a smaller car and my barely 5' frame fit nicely inside. The gas mileage was unbelievably terrific. I especially loved the "gas" heater, which was INSTANT heat. We would get out of work in the dead of winter and while everyone else was bitterly scraping ice and snow, I could sit in a toasty warm car and let the defrosters do the work. I would be ready to go and down the road several miles before anyone else could start putting their brushes and scrapers away. I got hit in the rear by an idiot who wasn't paying attention and after that was fixed it never seemed to be the same. Shortly after that, on the way home from my job at the bank after midnight, the engine caught on fire and that was the end of my little car. No cell phones back then as I frantically ran from door to door knocking and pleading with people to call the fire department. Most of my pleas went unanswered, thus wasting a lot of time.

I had another used vehicle that I loved; a 78 Mustang with T-tops. I drove it for years and then sold it because the transmission was starting to go. I hope someone got it that planned on restoring it...it was a beautiful car. By then I was a struggling single mom and my dad felt bad for me. He bought a car for me in 1987, a new little Buick Skyhawk. That car was one I had several names for, none of them complimentary. I think it was a bit of a lemon but didn't want to get rid of it for fear of hurting my dad's feelings. A few years after my dad died and after years of cussing at the car, I ended up giving it to my daughter as it was better than what she had. (she was forewarned of its temperamental attitude) Many years later, she gave it to her boyfriend (now an EX, thank God and all His angels), who managed to get it impounded and never went back to get it. (easy come, easy go)

In 1994 after giving her the Buick, I bought a new Pontiac Grand Am V6. It had 11 miles on it when I drove it off the lot. I still have that car.....it now has 49,000 actual miles on it and still runs like a charm. I love that car and was really dismayed when I found out they were no longer going to make them.

I, too, pat the dash when I arrive home from a journey safely, after first giving thanks to God. Our family vehicles always get the required maintenance when its due and they are garage kept. I've never named her though and that's kind of a shame since she's been a respected member of the family for 17 years.

Needless to say, my daughter has followed suit. She had to leave her vehicle in a business parking lot one evening when the alternator went out. During the night, her beloved car took a beating because a group of teenagers mistook it as belonging to a guy they hated (we found that out years later but they were never caught and/or punished). Windows, headlights and tail lights smashed, 2 tires slashed and the hood and grillwork beaten with what appeared to be a baseball bat. The inside had the radio stolen and then the dash kicked out and everything broken that could be broken. My daughter cried because it was like having a family member beaten up. Her cousin, bless his heart, fixed many things at no charge....just for the parts. We never could get the driver's door fixed and it no longer opened. The car ran for her for another two years after that, the front end all beat up and ugly, and it was still running when she sold it very cheap because it looked so bad. Having only PLPD insurance on it, she couldn't afford to fix it herself. The Durango she bought to replace it has now won their hearts. Its also garage kept and thanked for safe journeys but it has full coverage insurance.

Well, I've revealed a family secret....we are sentimental vehicle owners. Are we just a goofy family or do you do things like this too?

U.....is for Uncle

and, after Uncle Sam, that word brings to mind John Candy's portrayal of commitment fearing Uncle Buck. If you've never seen the movie, rated as a comedy, you should check it out.....I'm sure you'll love it

Personally, I think of my Uncle George. Uncle George was not actually my uncle (both my parents were only children), but he was definitely related though. He was my dad's mother's aunt's son and was within a few years of my dad's age. They felt more like brothers toward one another. Every other year we journeyed to Ohio to see him and his family and on the years we didn't go there, they came here. This man was genuinely loved by his step-kids, family, friends, neighbors, employers.....well, everyone loved Uncle George.

The story about him was a little shaded though. Seems as though he came into the U.S. by way of Canada. Once there, he was only a 'river away' from getting into the U.S. Seems as though he and a companion actually rowed across the Detroit River in the dead of night. They were very young....maybe 15 or 16 at the time. I'm not sure why he did this.....possibly something about his paperwork being incomplete. He managed to make his way to Ohio where he knew people that had promised to help him if he could get that far. He eventually got his paperwork straightened out, took citizenship classes, passed the test and became a citizen. He served in WWII, became a medic on the battlefields. After his honorable discharge, he began his education to become a male nurse. After graduation he secured a job working for a hospital where he eventually met the woman he married. She was a widow with five children. He married her and raised those kids just like they were his own. He loved children......and children all loved Uncle George, including me.

Uncle George lived long enough to make fond memories with my children too. My only regret is that we didn't live closer so that we could see him more often. Uncle George, of course, spoke with an accent and his voice was sort of softly hoarse. He sounded just like Marlon Brando's rendition of the Godfather. It became an inside family joke......saying that we were going to get "Uncle George" after you. Ha.....since my ex never met Uncle George in person, I think he was always a little bit unsure about what "Uncle George" may do if called upon. I never corrected his perception as I found it quite to my advantage. But Uncle George was a good man.....through and through.

Oh....and since we are on the subject.....does anyone know where that old saying, "cry uncle" comes from when you want to admit defeat in a fight? Just curious.

T.....is for Time

which is about the most valuable thing you can think of. If it could be bought, it would be different....but it can't. No matter how wealthy you are, you cannot purchase Time.

It can be your friend and it can be your enemy. It can heal and it can ravish. It can create and it can kill. It can reward or it can punish.

We've all heard the saying, "Time flies" and the older you get, the faster time seems to go. What you choose to do with time is entirely up to you. Wasting time or using it to your advantage....those are your decisions.

For once time has been used, you cannot get it back. No matter how much we wish for it, once its gone.....its gone. So all the people who lust for silver and gold or property to make them rich beyond their dreams.....they have not stopped to think; time is much more valuable than any of those things because it simply cannot be bought. And no matter how wealthy you are.....if Time decides to take away your wealth, it can.

So use Time wisely dear ones......respect it and give thanks for the good times for they are a gift.
And if you celebrate Easter.....make wonderful memories with your family = good times.