Musings: Fog and Francis Edition

Dear Pope Francis:

I believe I would be a little insulted to have been on that list in the first place.

Dear Time Magazine:

Out of all the people in the world...that's your list?  Miley Cyrus?  Kathleen Sebelius?  Assad/Rouhani/Obama??

Dear Friend:

Sometimes I don’t always reply to your last email, but I “liked” it in my mind.

Dear Co-Worker:

You asked me why I thought I had to wear tights with my new boots…so today I wore socks.   My boots are eating them.  Yes…by the time I got to my office, they were down around my toes!  A slight exaggeration, but you get the point.

Dear Fog:

I don’t know how thick pea soup is, but I understand that on mornings like this morning, you are just that thick!

Dear Pea Soup:

What are you?  Do you even really exist?

Dear Careless Driver:

Get off your phone, turn on your lights, and pay attention!  Do you not see that you’re driving in pea soup-thick fog?

Six Word Saturday: The Changing Vets Edition

One More Reason to Change Vets

I should probably stop here...six words, you know...but if you want the back story, here it is:


A couple of weeks ago, I had Mr. Gibbs “fixed.”   I had already decided I didn’t care much for the unhelpful, often unfriendly staff, but I did like the veterinarian.   They told me to bring him in before 8 a.m. and pick him up after 3:30 p.m., which jived fairly well with my work schedule. 

The vet called me around 10 a.m. and told me he was out of surgery and resting comfortably.   Less than an hour later, he called back and said Gibbs was ready to go, I could pick him up anytime.   I kinda laughed and said, “He doesn’t like that cage, does he?”   He said, “Noooo, he sure doesn’t!”   I told him I hadn’t scheduled to be off the afternoon, and I couldn’t just take him home with no one to watch him.   He said it would be fine to leave him there as scheduled.

When I went to get him around 4, the lady at the front desk couldn’t tell me whether or not he’d had anything to eat or drink, or if he’d been out to do his business.   The conversation went something like this:

Me:        Has he been out?  

Her:       We thought you’d do that when you got here.

Me:        He’s been locked up all day.  You all haven’t walked him?

Her:       :::Blank stare:::

Me:        Has he had anything to eat or drink?

Her:       :::Started a long, memorized spiel about him just waking up from anesthesia and it being very important to start him very slowly on eating and drinking:::

Me:        The doctor called me before 11 a.m. and said he was awake, alert, and ready to go.  It’s after 4 now.  I’d hate to think he’s been here all that time with nothing to eat or drink.

Her:       I wouldn’t like that either.

Me:        Well, has he had anything to eat or drink?

Her:       :::Speaking into walkie talkie::: “Get Gibbs ready to go.”   (She then went to get him and brought him to me.)

Me:        Can you find out if he’s already had anything to eat or drink?   Can he have a snack on the way home?  

Her:       “I’m sure he can have a snack.”  :::Shoved some papers into my hand:::  “Read those directions carefully.”  Turning to another lady in the lobby, “Mrs. Johnson, are you ready to pick up Fido?”

At which point, Mr. Gibbs took a whiz on her floor.   As I was leaving, I said over my shoulder, “He peed over there.”    I probably didn’t keep the glee out of my voice.

To visit more Six Word Saturday blogs, visit Cate and her friends HERE.

What the Crap?

UNA Snow

Depending on how you use it (…or just about any way you use it…) “crap” is probably a cuss word.   Swearing, that is.   The Bible says “do not swear,” (James 5), but I don’t think he’s talking about cussing in that chapter.   Not that I’m advocating cussing!  That would be crappy of me, especially since I charge dimes and quarters at work for folks who cuss….yes, I’m that chick in the office with a cuss jar on her desk.  After this post, I think I’ll have to drop a few coins in the jar my own self.   Crap!

Snow in my front yard

It’s a nap-crappy day out today in the Shoals, cold and wet, but we have it good compared to those north of us.   They are threatening us with the possibility of frozen precipitation, but I have found over the years, if they are predicting it, we usually don’t get it.   Sometimes sneaky sleet gets us…and we don’t have a lot of warning.  For some reason in the south, if the words sleet, snow, or ice, are in the forecast, it’s a law that you must congregate at the local grocery stores and wipe them out of milk and bread…toilet paper…whatever, even if the next day is going to be 50° and no snow or ice will survive!   Crap-silly, isn’t it?   Can’t say I don’t follow the snow rules at times.    

Frozen falls...Rockpile, TVA-The Shoals

In the south, snow and/or ice can be a crappy thing.   No native southerner really knows how to drive on snowy roads.  In order for snow to stick on our roadways, it seems there must be a layer of ice first, so in essence, we are really driving on a bed of ice.   Southern cities typically don’t have the equipment to handle major snow and ice, and no one I know owns any snow chains.  It’s a near-guarantee people will be in ditches when it snows, and that can be pretty crappy.  I don’t think we’ll get any really crappy weather this weekend, so I’m not planning to fight the crowds for bread or milk today.   Good thing I’m not in need of either.

Cardinals in my back yard

The crappy question for today is:   How long will it be before there is a major uprising against Obama’s Crappy-Care?  I keep waiting.   It was a crap shoot getting decent insurance at a good price before it became “affordable.”  It’s one of those wait-and-see type situations.  I wish I had faith that it would all work out, but I think the plan is, well, crappy…and I have no faith in the current administration.

Ice Forest, Southern Tennessee

If you’re still reading, I’m sure you’ll be relieved that I’ve come to the end of my crap-talk.  I hope your weekend is far from crap-tastic!   (Get your bread and milk just in case…and double check the toilet tissue supply.)  

More UNA Snow:

Snowy Lions in front of Willingham

The Front of Bibb Graves

The fountain...in a blizzard!

Thursday Thoughts

I really thought Miley Cyrus was saying “I came in like a rainbow” in her new song, Wrecking Ball.   She’s not.  I rarely listen to secular music, but I live in the real world, and I can’t help but hear things…like her song.  Unfortunately, I’ve also seen part of the video.   Now, I can’t hear the song without a mental image of Miley naked.  I hope I never hear that song again!   If you haven’t been subjected to her video, close your eyes if you are ever in the line of fire. 

Maybe it’s just me, but you want your advertising to be taken seriously, don’t say the word, “ginormous” once, much less four times in your ad.  The only thing I remember about that commercial is how silly the word is, and I do not know what product they were trying to sell me.

I saw a guy riding his bicycle around campus a little while back.   It had no seat on it.  Do you hear what I’m saying?   There was a bar where a seat should have een, pointed directly at the center of his posterior.   If he were to slip off a pedal…well, have you ever heard the expression, “Ripped him a new one?”  Yeah, pretty sure that’s what would have happened. 

Ole Boyism:

Me:  If we have to have a democrat in office, I think Hillary would have been a better choice.

Ole Boy:   She's already served two terms, how many more do you want to give her?

Have a great Friday!

The General

When the perishable puts on the imperishable,

and the mortal puts on immortality,

then shall come to pass the saying that is written:

“Death is swallowed up in victory.”

O death, where is your victory?

O death, where is your sting?

…But thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.

1 Corinthians 15:54-57

This weekend, I opened a Gaither Homecoming CD and listened to it for the first time.   I bought it last November and planned to give it to my Aunt Margaret for her birthday.   But, I forgot to give it to her.   I thought I would give it to her this year…but I didn’t know where it was, and in the hustle-bustle of the party planning for my dad’s birthday, the thought slipped my mind again.  She loved southern gospel, as do I.

I don’t believe I was named for my aunt, my dad’s sister.  It’s my understanding that Dad just liked the name, "Margaret."  She and I shared a common dislike of the name, though I’ve grown to like it more over the years.   Margaret means pearl.   My aunt was definitely a pearl.

She was called “The General” by her family.  She was always planning a trip here or there.  When she instigated those many vacations, she did her research, planning what to do and see.  She enjoyed life, and she enjoyed our family being together.  She was always considerate towards those around her…making sure we were comfortable.  She was generous not only with her time, but with her things as well.   She gave to those in need.   She was a woman of profound faith…she didn’t worry (and would fuss a little at my mom for worrying).   She was a pearl indeed, a most precious gem of gems.   

She and my dad had become very close over the years since retirement, and they were often plotting a new vacation, or a chance to visit.  They shared a "love" of coupons and vitamins and herbs.  My extended family likes to get together…we don’t do it near enough…but The General sure did her part in visiting.  Just a few short months ago, Ole Boy and I, along with my parents, my sister and her husband, took a trip to Branson, Missouri.   Aunt Margaret, as always, had a suggested itinerary…and as always, a very good one, at that.

I had a connection with her that perhaps came from my answering for her repeatedly over the years, only to realize that someone was addressing the “other” Margaret.  She laughed at my corniness, the crazy comments I would interject into conversation.  When I said the password was “BR549,” she knew immediately where that originated.  She loved me because I was family, but she liked me, too.   She made sure that I knew she did. 

Two weekends ago, we celebrated my Dad’s 80^th birthday.   His birthday wasn’t until Wednesday, but we celebrated early on the weekend for the convenience of those who would travel to help celebrate.   Aunt Margaret’s birthday was two days before Dad’s.  They liked to get together each year for a birthday dinner…but this year, Margaret wouldn’t hear of sharing the party, even though her birthday came first.

Aunt Margaret and Uncle Junior left for home on Monday, November 18, her birthday.  There was an accident, and the Lord saw fit to call her Home.  I imagine that there was a grand reunion, and perhaps the very best of birthday celebrations.  On that day, she stepped out of time and into “right now.”   Right now, she is visiting with our Lord Jesus, my grandparents, and friends and family that went on before her.  Right now, they are happy, pain free, healed and healthy, and in the presence of the Lord they served so diligently here on earth.  Right now, and forevermore, oh, the music I am sure they are enjoying…far better than the CD I never gave her. 

Mom, Dad, Aunt Margaret, Uncle Junior

He will swallow up death forever,
And the Lord God will wipe away tears from all faces…

Isiah 25:8

I will miss her; her beautiful spirit, her laugh, her presence.  She was loved.  My Uncle Junior joined his beloved wife just a few short months later.   They were very dear to us...treasures to our family.