They Came From The Drain.......

I couldn't believe it. They were there, just like it was nothing to be crushed and drowned. Some of them happily waiting for their next victim, others just hanging out to see what happened next.


They all deserved it. They were blood sucking freaks that wanted to torment everyone within their reach. They would stop at nothing. It was their goal to make life miserable with their gluttony.

I tried poison. I tried to drown them. When I would catch one I would work hard to squish its guts out or crush its head. And I would wait and wonder, late in the night if they would come back just like Freddie or Jason or 'ski-mask guy'; never being destroyed. And they they did because after my murderous evening the night before, they were back with a vengeance. I didn't want to call in help, I didn't want to involve the authorities, I wanted to handle it myself. I didn't want them to win.


I took their victim and carefully placed him in the bath tub. I wanted to give him a soothing warm bath and clean up the places where they had been torturing him. I wanted to help him feel better and as I ran the warm water over his body he trembled with pleasure because the torment was over. I lathered his body with the special body wash that made him smell nice and would cleanse his skin and hair, and rinsed it well. I took my time because I knew the possibility, nay the probability of him being tortured again was inevitable, but I was helpless to save him.

I watched with satisfaction as his tormentors were flushed down the drain. They would no longer be able to suck the very life out of him. They were dead. Drowned. Never to be able to bite anyone again....


or so I thought.

I went back several hours later and there they were. Lazing about in the tub, waiting. The victim, sensing another enjoyable bath, jumped into the tub..."NOOOOO!" I screamed, "THEY WILL ATTACK YOU AGAIN AND START SUCKING YOUR BLOOD!!!" I helped him out of the tub and grabbed the shower head again to spray them. Cries of anguish met my ears as they floated in the current around and around......only to return a little later laughing maniacally at the futility of my persistent actions and the whole process started again.

I did call in a little bit of professional help after my exasperation over took me. The professionals said that there was trouble all over the city and I could...."give 'em another dose of poison". So I did slathering the victim in a coat of chemically fortified goo that would bring the tormentors to their knees and eventually their demise. But in calling for help, I was instructed I may have to use chemical warfare because the tormentors have probably TAKEN OVER MY HOUSE!

I decided to call in the R.A.I.D. Squad.

They are highly trained in the annihilation of tormentors. The R.A.I.D. Squad knows the ins and outs of killing. They use stealth, superior quality gasses and the precise mixture of chemicals to make the kill quick and complete....all in an attractive purple canister.

I carried the canister into the bathroom shaking it slightly as instructed and took aim at the lounging tormentors. I deftly pressed the ignition button and a fine mist of death penetrated the bottom of the tub. I heard them gasping, some of them trying to jump out of the way but within seconds they were dead....completely dead....they had forgotten to don their gas masks in their arrogance.

I won that battle but alas my companion, the victim of their treachery, continues to have armies of tormentors sucking the life out of him. He can't sleep, he runs around naked, and he isn't loved on as much....only because I have to be strong, not inflicted, just so I can continue to fight.

For now, I will persist....to use the R.A.I.D. Squad's "death by canister" system, the chemically fortified goo and soothing baths for my companion.

I will win this fight and score a victory for the little guy!

I just need to keep an eye on that drain!

Bits and Pieces...

I have a lot going through my head these days. I don't know quite where to start but my brain feels like a sponge that needs to be squeezed real hard. I don't know what will come spilling out but hold on to your hats because here I go.....


I went bowling for a year the other day. A local bowling alley had a special deal where kids age four to seventeen bowled free. Three games...and all other bowling was a dollar a game. Food was a dollar and the music was fun too. So Dave the Younger, Lori and five of the grand kids went to bowl a few games. It seemed like a fun thing to do...it was a cloudy day out and I don't think anyone was interested in swimming. It turned out even better when the storms started.


Anyway...here we are, three adults and five kids at the bowling alley. The kids had the bumpers so they had to knock pins down and we had all five of them on one alley. Thank goodness we were on the alley at the far end, more privacy there, and us big kids had the lane right next to them.


They chose their bowling balls and Dave the Younger entered them in to the computer well, not THEM personally but their names and the fun began. Mikeala decided to immediately become paralyzingly shy and refused to throw her ball. This was a problem because she was first to bowl! I finally rolled it for her and eventually she warmed up to the game and threw her own. I hope she grows out of that shyness because she has so much to offer! Anyway, each child had a different tactic to how to throw the ball and the were doing pretty well.......but is was sooooo slooooowwww.

Will would throw his ball and we would wait and wait and wait and wait for it to hit the pins and practically stop but he would get them down and hurry to get the next one rolling.

It happened that way with each one of the younger ones and then Jasmine and Devon rocketed their ball as is bounced off of the bumpers sever times on the way down. I told Dave the Younger that they had invented "Pinball Bowling"!

The alley had music playing...loudly but not annoyingly loud. It was current pop music and even some of the older stuff but it was sung by Alvin and the Chipmunks or the Wiggles or thank God Barney didn't offer a tune some cartoon character. There was a song from a Sponge Bob episode that I enjoyed very much and several from High School Musical. i really need to see that movie and now the sequel And the kids just couldn't help but dance. They sang and danced and bowled and ate pizza and had root beer and well we had a blast!! It was a great day. Even though it took four hours to bowl three games. Kind of turtley don't you think?

It's all Dave the Younger's fault!!!!....

Okay, I would have finished this up yesterday but I like to read my "Blogging Family News" first. I started with Dave's. He had a title and exactly two sentences....with a link....thanks a lot!!!
Okay, here is the number one rule....never send a mind teaser game with graphics and challenges to an obsessive compulsively handicapped person with not much time on her hands....
The Impossible Quiz is not impossible although it is a challenge....I'm at question number 74 or 75 and am really enjoying it even if it is draining the life out of me and making me not want to do anything else until it is finished!!! UGH...

I will finish it though. I've learned the secrets....if I don't learn them...I know where to find them...but if YOU want to know them it'll cost you :) Truthfully I've only "cheated" once because I love my computer and I love my husband even lots more than that and I wouldn't want to loose either one of them because I went to the shed and got the hatchet and came in here and smashed the smithereens out of my precious window to the world of insanity.......

Maybe I can get the kids involved and use it as a teaching reference...that would make my time playing it educational and we always have time for education, right?

In the meantime...I'll go back to blowing up bombs...petting kittys...picking carrots and wondering what the heck they meant by that answer.....

Try the Impossible Quiz yourself but here is my disclaimer...you didn't hear about The Impossible Quiz from me...I don't want to be responsible for dirty houses, hungry husbands and weeds in the flower beds. Nor do I want to be responsible for the horrible demise of helpless computers either.

Oh, and if you don't hear from me in the next couple of days....come pry my cold dead hands off my mouse and help me call it a day...

What? Are they CRAZY?...

Okay, I want you to try this....

I want you to hop up onto the top of the fence, leap onto the next tree branch you see and follow that branch to the trunk of the tree. Then I want you to climb to the top of the tree and walk out on the nearest branch...to the very end...and, with your teeth, dislodge a newly grown walnut and hold it in your mouth. Now I want you to go back to the tree's trunk, go down HEAD FIRST to about the middle of that trunk and walk out onto the next branch. Don't drop your walnut!

As you get to the tip of that branch, I want you to leap to the branch of the next tree and run along that branch to the trunk of that tree. Climb the trunk of this tree to the electrical and coaxial cables that are attached to that telephone pole and jump on to the cables. Be really careful not to hit that electrical transformer! This time I want you to run along the cable listening to the dogs below you bark ferociously as you hope you don't fall into those teeth, and make a right turn at the next pole. Leap from the cables onto the branch of yet another tree and climb to the top where your home is located. NOW you may rest.

Oh wait....did I say a walnut? Are you the same size as you are now in this scenario? Hmmm.....in order for this to work, instead of grabbing a walnut in your mouth because of your size I want you to grab a twenty-five pound bowling ball. There, that makes the equivalent just about right.

If you were a squirrel gathering walnuts, you would make this trek several times a day. I watch the squirrels in our yard gathering walnuts and let me tell you, they can't possibly have an ounce of fat on them. If they were people, they would have bodies that would rival any of our best athletes. And even at that, I don't think our best athletes could do a squirrel run!

Not only do they have to go through this monstrous agility course just to get their dinner...they have to open the outer hull with their teeth...crack or chew through the inner shell to get to the little nut inside and then, and only then, do they get to eat it. It's a lot of hard work.

When I watch them it makes me want to work harder too. I should be more industrious and maybe that would help me to be in better shape. I'm not ready to climb a tree or carry twenty-five pound bowling balls in my teeth but I think I could keep busy and use my muscles.

Do I want to be super athlete? No...I just want to be a little squirrely.

Young Love...

I think I was in sixth grade when I had my first real crush. Actually two of them. The first and I was one of millions was Davy Jones of the Monkeys. He was the quintessential crush of the late '60's. And I was in luv with him.

Then there was Doug. He was handsome, smart, popular and didn't know I even existed. I thought he was the cutest boy in the world and I wanted to marry him i was eleven. Doug had all the girls looking at him and in fact, the guys too because they wanted to be like him. Sort of like Danny Zuko in Grease only Doug wasn't a "Bad" boy.

I remember in 1968 there was a Presidential Election and we did a mock election at our school in New Albany. He represented candidate Richard Nixon and I surely voted for him...Doug that is.

I used to cry because he didn't really notice me and I used to play all those girlie songs of woe and sing them really loud in my bedroom and cry because I was so in love with Doug. of course i'd forget about him the second Davy Jones would show up.

I learned toward then end of school that Doug was moving away and I cried some more. We had been through so much together. I mean I worshipped him from afar and worried about him when he had to take all those pesky rabies shots and then, just when he had started noticing me, dancing with me even at our daily lunch time "dance parties" we had a really cool teacher and kind of hanging out with me...I learned he was moving away.

HOW COULD LIFE BE SO CRUEL??

Heart broken, I vowed never to fall in love again and that I would live in a cave like a hermit.

But I did....at least five or six times more and was heart broken every single time. I thought I would NEVER find the one. Oh sure I had memories; pictures, jewelry, clothing....but I didn't have someones heart.

I never realized that I had to go through all the junk to get to the treasure. I didn't know that God had someone picked out especially for me. I didn't even know God. It wasn't until He placed me in the right place at the right time to find the treasure He had for me that I realized all of those other boys were just warm up...time killers...maturity makers...until it was the perfect time.

You are probably wondering why I'm talking about young love....puppy love. There is a young person going through this right now i won't name names because i don't want to cause any embarrassment who may need some encouragement. I would say to this young person....this is just the shaky beginning of your exploration into the world of love. You will have many more highs and lows in developing who you are in a relationship. As my mom used to say to me, every time I was heartbroken at least once a month there's more than one fish in the sea. I used to hate that...I wanted that one fish...but now, looking back...I understand.

Don't worry about the fish that got away...concentrate on your life and your walk with God and He will bring you the BEST fish ever!! You will have a grown up love that will knock your socks off! But for now....enjoy life. Don't put emphasis on "going out with" someone. Be friends with everyone and try to wait patiently for the miracle God has for you.

I do wonder what ever happened to those boys who broke my heart. But I do know this....none of them could hold a candle to the man I have now.

No not one.

Color within the lines...

I have a character flaw. Actually I have many but I want to share just one with you. I like to color between the lines.

When I get out a coloring book and my box of 64 Crayola crayons, that means I'm serious about coloring what ever picture I have carefully chosen in the coloring book. The picture has to "touch" me somehow and I will work on it until it is completed. Once I have chosen a picture, I choose the colors each of the 64 Crayolas are arranged by color from lightest with black, gray, white and the "metals" all in their own little compartment and begin to enhance my picture. Although the picture has lines to color in, I trace each of those lines with the color that section will be when completed. I've always done this. I don't know why, but I do realize that when you do that, the color seems to flow onto the paper better without the possibility of going outside the lines. That is very significant.

I have realized though and my husband and family have repeatedly pointed it out to me that I carry this thought process into my every day life. I don't like to break the rules. I guess I think that if someone took the time to make the rules, the rules must be important.

Just like yesterday. I went to Walgreen's to pick up a prescription. Instead of going to the drive-thru window, I opted to go inside because I needed a few other items. As I pulled around into the parking lot, I noticed a car...an older beater...parked at the sidewalk next to the doors. Now mind you, there were several parking spaces open not twenty-feet from the front door just begging to have cars occupy them, but no, this individual was parked right next to the front door.

I tried to put a positive spin on it thinking that the driver of that car was a little more handicapped and couldn't walk twenty feet or that they were just going in to grab something really important, really fast, and get home to a sick child. Then I thought that maybe it was a robber trying to keep his or her car ready for the great escape and from there all sorts of things went through my head. But as I entered the store, no-one had their hands up so robbery was out and I didn't see ANYONE in a hurry so that scenario was out too. There were a few people in there meandering about looking at things and sucking up the air conditioning while browsing.

I was in the store about fifteen to twenty minutes. I got my prescription, they called me by my given name...grrrr paid for it at the pharmacy counter, and then went to pick up the other items and pay for them at the check out. The couple in front of me in line where the ones who owned the car. They were both able-bodied, fairly young and strong, but had parked practically in the building because they were too lazy to walk twenty feet!!!!


I was appalled. I couldn't believe the audacity of those two. What gives them the right to color outside the lines? What would happen if I would have parked there? Would they have come out and yelled at me for parking in the FIRE LANE possibly jeopardizing the people in the store should a fire break out and the fire engines not be able to get close enough to the building?

It wasn't that couple in particular who got my Irish up. It happens everywhere. Many people seem to think that they are the only people in this world who matter. It's all about me...me...me... What do I want? What will make life better, easier, more fun, for me? What's in it for me? I don't have to do anything for anyone but ME!!!


WE INTERRUPT THIS PROGRAM TO BRING THIS SPECIAL NEWS BULLETIN...


The two shop lifters in Saturdays brawl at Walmart were apprehended after the Columbus police department and security chased them through Easton. It was stated that once Cruella DeVille got to her car, she came around to pick up her accomplice. When the car got to her the accomplice opted to take the stolen merchandise and LEAVE THE BABY BEHIND! Apparently the couple had been having quite a day of five-finger discounts when they were apprehended. When asked why the seven-month old boy was left in the cart, the accomplice replied, "he isn't my child". Apparently she was baby-sitting her god-son. The baby was turned over to children's services and was later reunited with his mother. Both Cruella and her accomplice were detained.....duh!


Another story broke yesterday at a suburban home in Columbus....

Wildlife expert Shane Ervin single handedly captured the dreaded Opossum Rex that had been terrorizing a neighborhood trash can. Several 'Tweenie children and a young girl, aged seven, had enjoyed an afternoon snack of Popsicles and animal crackers when they went to throw the wrappers away. Several screams were emitted with shouts of....."there's a 'possum in the trash can!" It was the dreaded Opossum-Rex with his little beady eyes and long slithery tail.

Quickly searching for her patented Opossum Pokin' Stick, the home owner shouted to the children..."RUN! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!!! " but before the mayhem broke out Ervin jumped up and called for his assistant to get the Opossum Handling Cloths and an Opossum Transport Container.

The children huddled together with words of "eeeewwww, gross....it's ugly," and "don't hurt it..." while the home owner stumbling around on her feet-fists took pictures of the huge creature. Ervin swiftly reached into the trash container with his Opossum Handling Cloths and placed the struggling creature in the awaiting Opossum Transport Container. The children calmed down and the Opossum-Rex was later released in a protected environment....where there are no dogs...only Dawgs.


In an effort to thwart the hostile take over of the trash-can...Ervin installed his patented Opossum Deterrent Device to the trash can and the children went back to swimming.


We will have more on this and other stories as they come in....we will now return you to programming already in progress.


Sometimes I wish I had the ...... chutzpah... to do something like that...but when I think about it I don't think I could.

I believe that there are rules for a reason. We should all try to follow them and then the world would be a much calmer place...wouldn't it? Isn't that what the Ten Commandments were for? A guide line? Do unto others? Heck, there are times I'd like to do unto others.....but instead I'll take out my box of 64 Crayolas and draw a line around the rule breakers. Maybe if I do I can color them in and they will be forced to stay within the lines.

"Who You Callin' A ....

Yesterday Dave and I went to our favorite Saturday place. Walmart.
We had a few things to pick up and surprisingly came out of there with only the things on the list. I guess we're trying to be frugal.

At any rate...as we were heading out the doors Dave noticed some commotion in the parking lot to the left of us. We could barely see all of it but it was Walmart security chasing a perp. that's detective talk for shop-lifting perpetrator When we had walked across the street to one of those little islands that are supposed to protect you from being hit by cars driven by gawkers, we turned to watch the chase.

The perp was a women. She was dark skinned, maybe from a really good tan...and had her hair all done up. She had a companion also dark skinned and her companions hair was black but half of her hair was white! She looked like Cruella DeVille in 1,001 Dalmatians. The really scary thing was that the perp was pushing a shopping cart and there was an infant carrier in the seat! I said "Holy Cow! She has a baby with her!" and Dave said..."What better cover up?"

At this point, Walmart security was trying to surround her....three of them...two guys, one white, one black and a little bitty white girl. Now I don't know what they said to the perp but she came out SWINGING! She did the two handed chest shove to the BIG black guy and shoved him back...then the little bitty white girl said something to her and the two handed chest shove answered her causing her hair to fly with the force and she almost fell down...

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At this point the perp was shoving everyone who came within arms length of her. She was yelling and although I couldn't hear what she was saying I could imagine her shouting..."Who you calling a shop-lifter??? You better leave me al......OH...NO...YOU DIT-ENT.." shove...shove..push...she began running again pushing her shopping cart with Cruella racing along with her. She turned on the security team who were on their cell phones...probably calling for back up...and shouted again..."I didn't take nothin' from yo store."...Now she gets on HER cell phone..."I'm callin' my baby daddy...." shove...shove...push. "I never heard of...what you call it? Opossum Pokin' Stick...? Hello...Baby???..."

I thought the black guy was going to take her down because he rushed at her but she pushed back really hard not even dropping her phone and I thought "DANG she must be strong!" At this point the Walmart security truck (WST) pulled up and followed the melee...ALL THE WAY TO HER CAR! I don't know what the deal was but the three who were chasing her gave up the chase and the WST took over. She was driving away in her car! The WST was on her bumper and was really doggin' her. I didn't get it. Maybe she had to leave the Walmart parking lot before the CPD could take over. We saw Cruella too but I think she was even in a different car. Seemed strange to me.

In the end...everyone remembered they were either on their way IN to Walmart or on their way out and life continued on. I don't know if they caught the perp or how many bruises the little bitty white girl may have had but DANG GIRL!

Until next time....

opossum pokin' sticks have been approved by the FDA a CPA the ASPCA and the Committee for Humane Treatment of Humans.

What Ever Happen To Horace Greenly???

I had almost forgotten about Horace Greenly and that's sad. Although I have never spoken to him, I have watched him and wondered. You see, Horace is an enigma.

I knew from the beginning that he was different. He would come in to the restaurant almost every Tuesday and sometimes on Friday...you might say he was a regular. He always came in alone and he always brought a book. Now, one might think there is nothing unusual about that but I did. You see, Horace was only about 24.

He was tallish. I couldn't tell because I was always sitting down, but I think he was about six feet tall. Maybe a little less. He had dark hair, almost black and on an occasion or two I thought it was dyed that color but I'm not sure, and he wore it longish...not below his shoulders long but a little over the collar long, and it was a little oily, kind of like he treated it with something. It wasn't unpleasant to look at though. He was fair skinned but not like Dracula or anything, it just looked like he was an indoors kind of guy. He wore black clothing most of the time until one day he came in wearing a teal shirt...a T-shirt I think...and I thought, "Hmmmm" only 'cause it was different. He wore a black bracelet, probably one of those rubber things with the sayings on them that everyone wears now or a strap of leather on his left wrist. And he never smiled.

He looked like a loner. He didn't appear to be unhappy, just.....alone. And he always had a book. They weren't those little flimsy things either. They weren't text books and they weren't self help, how-to, or appear to be instructional. They were novels. Usually big thick novels. He apparently loved to read. I was intrigued by that.

Each time he would come to the restaurant, I would watch him out of the corner of my eye....No...I'm not a stalker....and decided to give him a name. A name that would fit his uniqueness and his mystery so he became Horace Greenly. I would wonder about his life and if he had a girlfriend and what his parents were like. I wondered if he was a student at an area college or if he was an employee at one of the surrounding businesses. I wondered what kind of car he drove and was he a safe driver and I wondered if he was spiritual.

I wondered why he was alone.

Sometimes it was sad to see him sitting there all by himself reading his book and eating tacos. But he seemed content and that was good. I just hope he is content in his life and I hope he is spiritual. I pray he knows Jesus and that if he doesn't he will soon. I hope he loves his mom and that he has a big happy family with a kid sister and a dog.

The restaurant closed and I don't see Horace anymore. I don't know if he found another regular place to have his lunch but I hope so. At least in his aloneness he is getting out there. And he must have enough money not to have to "brown bag" it so I'll stop being a mom...concerned that he's doing well. Heck, who knows, he might be the next Bill Gates or Donald Trump. I might read about him in the newspaper after he has made another million bucks or invented a new gadget. He might be a prince or even a telephone solicitor, a medical student or an ax murderer, a lonely young Mensa member or just Joe Shmoe the office geek....it doesn't matter. I just know that from time to time I'll wonder...

"what ever happened to Horace Greenly?"