Anecdotes, Antidotes, and Anodes

Memorial Day 2009

Memorial Day is a United States federal holiday observed on the last Monday of May (May 25 in 2009). Formerly known as Decoration Day, it commemorates U.S. men and women who died while in the military service. First enacted to honor Union soldiers of the American Civil War (it is celebrated near the day of reunification after the civil war), it was expanded after World War I to include American casualties of any war or military action.

 

My uncle pictured above in his uniform with my dad is still going strong these days. So, I choose to honor not only those who have died in military service but to celebrate those who served and are still making our lives richer.

I LOVE YOU, Dexie !

AACCHHKK !

With my calendar almost bouncing off the wall, screaming at me to pay attention to it, my blog-posting has pretty much gone by the wayside lately. Along with my blog-visiting.

Company arrives Saturday. 18th
We all depart Wednesday. 22nd
I hope Seattle has a few sun breaks while I'm there.
Once home again, preparations for a birthday party in Oklahoma, back for JUCO in Grand Junction, and 2, yes, count them TWO 40th high school reunions back in Oklahoma, then onto Nashville. (Did I mention I was driving?)  Last time I checked, the places aren't situated too closely to each other on the map.

Instead of posting photos of these gray dreary skies or of the dogs sleeping or of AnodeMan reading a stack of newspapers that almost reaches the ceiling, I'll just share one of my mornings this week with you.

The skies had opened up with a mixture of rain, sleet, snow, and something that looked like styrofoam pellets. This moisture was blowing perpendicular to the ground. June Bug had a vet's appointment and because Bubba doesn't like to stay by himself I loaded both dogs in the car. For some peculiar reason, there was this urge to get my purse, cell phone, and car keys loaded prior to heaving two seventy pound dogs in the back seat. Why, I don't know. Usually, those three items are the last things that I locate.

Running back to the house to turn off the TV and grab my to do list, I almost broke my face when, as I turned the door knob and pushing on the door at the same time, expecting the door to open all in one motion, it didn't.

Running into the garage to enter the house through that door the same thing happened.

Running to the back door...running to the front door...you get the picture.

Here is where I start communicating with my self in one and two-word sentences.

$hi+
Locked
Out
Hammer
Window
Which window
Police
Security System
Ah-ha
Cell Phone, Purse, Keys
Are all in the car.

So, at this point I realize that June Bug will make it to her appointment on time, but there's still that small problem of what to do once we arrive back home.

Phone call to neighbor across the street goes something like this:

Kathy:  Hey, Jodi. Is Dominick home?  I've locked myself out and need some kind of tool to pick the lock.

Jodi: No, he's not here.

Kathy: Well, do you think he has something to use to "jimmy-the-lock?"

Jodi: Where are you?

Kathy: In the car taking Bug to the vet.

Jodi:  Is the panel in the doggy door?

Kathy: No, I can get in the garage. But, the door from the garage going into the house is locked, too.

Jodi: But, what about the doggie dog. Is the panel in it?

Kathy: (Feeling I need to explain myself a bit better by increasing my volume.)  No, I can get in the garage.

Jodi: I know you can get in the garage. But, how do the dogs get in the house from your garage? Don't you have another doggie dog?  That's the one I'm talking about.

DEAD SILENCE...
PREGNANT PAUSE...
HERE's YOUR SIGN...Stupid...

Kathy: Oh, that one.

Jodi: Do you want me to send Anna (7 year old) over to crawl through it and unlock the door?

Kathy: No thanks. I've crawled through it BEFORE.

Jodi: Well, when you crawl through it, be sure to have you cell phone with you...just in case.

HAPPY EASTER
 

 

Friday the 13th

Paraskavedekatriaphobia is the word for Fear of Friday the 13th.

Friday the 13th is the most widespread superstition. The sixth day of the week and the number 13 both have foreboding reputations said to date from ancient times, and their inevitable conjunction from one to three times a year (there happen to be three such occurrences in 2009, two of them right in a row) portends more misfortune than some credulous minds can bear. According to experts it's the most widespread superstition in the United States today. Some people won't go to work on Friday the 13th; some won't eat in restaurants; many wouldn't think of setting a wedding on the date.

How many Americans at the turn of the new millennium actually suffer from this condition? According to Dr. Donald Dossey, a psychotherapist specializing in the treatment of phobias (and coiner of the term paraskevidekatriaphobia, also spelled paraskavedekatriaphobia), the figure may be as high as 21 million. If he's right, eight percent of Americans are still in the grips of a very old superstition.

Exactly how old is difficult to say, because determining the origins of superstitions is an inexact science, at best. In fact, it's mostly guesswork.

So, with that being said, Happy Friday the 13th...and while I'm at it, Happy Valentines' Day.

*****************************************************************

That's about the best I can do today as we are headed out the door once again to go HERE.

New Year's Traditional Meal

As mentioned many times before, I'm not much on traditions, and I'll not bore you again with why. But, I must admit, this is one tradition I can remember keeping for as long as I could swallow a black-eyed pea. It's a good thing I like them, because if you were in my parents' house on New Year's Day, you were going to eat black-eyed peas, and you were going to like them. The rest of the menu consisted of ham, greens, and cornbread. The dessert varied, depending on how much money was left in the budget for that kind of extravagance. If I had my way, it would contain c.h.o.c.o.l.a.t.e.

Why did mom force feed everyone black-eyed peas on New Year's Day? Because she said it would bring good luck for the next 364 days. Now, I don't much believe in luck, but I wasn't going to be the one to tell my mother that. Truth be known, she probably didn't either. But if eating that little speckled brown and black vegetable, (it is a vegetable, isn't it ?) might help with any aspect of having a good year, bring 'em on.

If you've ever tasted a black-eyed pea that's not been seasoned with ample amounts of salt, ham hock and the grease contained therein, it tastes a little bit like dirt. So, there's no doubt the way I prepare black-eyed peas is probably not the healthiest food item you can put in your body; therefore, all resolutions to start the year eating a healthy diet has just flown the coop. And because black-eyed peas tend to expand while cooking, there's plenty of them left-over for the rest of the week. That's why none of my resolutions ever have anything to do with eating anything that resembles being good for me for at least until February.

There was usually enough ham in the black-eyed peas to suffice, but many times a baked ham sat oozing it's fatty juices onto the platter sitting in the middle of the table. AnodeMan is fond of ham that's been crock-potted, so that's how we do it in this house. Instead of the fatty juices dripping out, our ham sits and swims in all that grease.

Now the greens-part of the menu did cause much stress in my young life, as I H.A.T.E.D most anything that even had a twinge of green in it. That was proven at  Sunday dinner (we called lunch "dinner" and dinner "supper" at my house) when I projectile vomited some turnips greens across the table when my dad forced me to eat them. It was a long time before I ever ate greens again. It was a long time before ANYONE at that table ever ate greens again. But in my old age, I have developed a liking for green vegetables, including turnips greens which can be somewhat bitter, mustard greens, collard greens, poke salad, and spinach.

Cornbread was a staple in my house. Our usual meal on Sunday night (called supper, in case you weren't paying attention) was cornbread and milk. Dessert was cornbread with butter and grape jelly. Mom always added just a pinch of sugar to her recipe and to this day, I have to add that sugar to mine.

Now that I have completely bored you out of your skull, here was our New Year's Day meal:

               

That's Enstom's Almond Toffee sitting there looking at you. If you've never tasted this delightful concoction of fresh cream, butter, sugar, chocolate, almonds, and who knows what other decadent ingredients are in it, run don't walk to THIS WEBSITE and order some.

That's about all the cookin' I"ll be doin' for a while. So, don't be expecting a new blog entitled, "Swampy Cooks" anytime soon.

 

 

 

 

New Year's Resolutions for 2009

Before many of you decided to become forwarding maniacs, I was a semi-mornal person.  Now, I am a neurotic, nervous, old woman who spends most of my time curled up in the fetal position, whispering, "Help. I've fallen and can't reach my beer the delete button on my cornpooter."

Do some of you not have lives? I mean really ! You know who you are. Five forwards a day from half the people in my address book is about more than I can handle. (***purse lips, flip forefinger back and forth over them, and hum***  Now you know how I feel. )

All the profound tid-bits of educational and informative e-mails that have come my way this past year  have caused much mental distress...mental distress...mental distress...dental mistress in my life; therefore, I have no choice but to make some very serious New Year's Resolutions for 2009.  And, I don't even believe in New Year's Resolutions !

Because of my e-mail-forwarding-obsessive friends, here are my resolutions for 2009:

I will no longer open or close a public restroom door without using a paper towel. If the trash can is not by the door, I will walk back out into the public place with the paper towel clutched in my trembling hands.

And speaking of public bathrooms, I will never touch another woman's purse for fear it has been placed on the floor of said public restroom.  (Why is it called a restroom? I don't go in there to rest ! I go in my bedroom to rest. Maybe my bedroom should be called a restroom !)

And speaking of purses, I will never set mine in that little "seat" in the shopping cart because the kid who sat in it before probably pooped his diaper and his mother didn't clean it.

I will no longer ask for lemon slices in my ice water because of the deadly bacteria on the peel. From now on, I will ask for limes, salt, and tequila (pronounced ku-tee-lah after a few) !

I will no longer shake your hand if you've just exited your car because the Number One past-time while driving is picking one's nose. Although, talking on the cell phone may have surpassed picking one's nose while driving. So, if one hand is picking your nose and the other is holding your cell phone, who's driving your car ?

I will no longer eat anything without worrying about how many gallons of Trans Fats I've consumed during the last 56 years.  I'm sure I get my minimum daily requirement of grease by just thinking about French fries.

I will no longer lick an envelope to seal it. A special thanks goes out to the person who sent me the one about poop in the glue on envelopes. I will have to use a wet sponge when sealing them. Of course, the up-side to this is I will no longer get paper cuts on my lips. Besides, there's probably Trans-Fats in the glue, too.

And while we're on the subject of poop, thanks to the blogger who posted about floaters and sinkers. I will now have to analyze each time whether I've had too much fat in my daily diet.  Oh, wait. That was me I who posted that.

And while we're still on the subject of poop, I will now have to scrub the top of every can I open and will NEVER dream of drinking out of one.

And speaking of drinking, I will never drink another Coca Cola because it removes toilet stains...and the rust from tire wheels.   I know. I watched my Pappa pour it over his logging truck tires to make them shiny new.

Not only will I n/ever drink another Coca Cola, neither will I drink Pepsi or Dr. Pepper since the people who make these products are atheists who refuse to put "Under God" on their cans.

I will never worry about my budget because Bill Gates/Microsoft is sending me $15,000 a month for participating in that special e-mail program. (Dear oldest daughter: This IS true, right?)

Or will I worry about my soul because I have 256,872 angels looking out for me and St. Theresa's Novena is working on granting my every wish.

I will continue to forward certain e-mails onto seven of my closet friends and make a wish within five minutes each time I receive that recipe chain letter so that the bird of paradise won't fly up my nose...or yours.

I no longer will eat Kentucky Fried Chicken because their chickens are actually horrible mutant freaks with no eyes or feathers.  Besides, their food contains so much fat, it makes your poop float. (All these resolutions seemed to be linked in some way ?)

And while we're on the subject of poop chickens, I will only buy cage free eggs because eating any other kind will cause me to not to be able to flap my wings.  Or was it the chickens in the cages that couldn't flap their wings? I forget.

And speaking of forget, I will no longer use deodorants with aluminum or eat Ritz crackers because that will cause me to have alzei...uh, I forget...again.

I will no longer fill up my vehicle without having someone sit in the back seat of my car to watch for the serial killer who will crawl in through my window while I'm pumping gas. For that matter, I'll just no longer fill up my car because all the gas companies are in cahoots with the terrorists. So, I'll just walk everywhere I go.

I will no longer check the coin return on pay phones (those still exist?) for fear of being pricked by a needle infected with AIDS.

I will no longer go to shopping malls because someone will drug me with a perfume sample and rob me.

I will no longer receive or send packages using UPS (pronounced OOPS we lost your package) and FedEx since they are actually Al Qaeda in disguise.  That leaves me with the USPS, so don't count on ever receiving another package from me again.

I will no longer shop at Target because they are French and don't support the American troops.

I will no longer answer the phone. Just because.

I will no longer buy expensive cookies from Neiman Marcus because I now have their recipe which I will not share with you in the recipe chain letter e-mail campaign mentioned above.

I will no longer sit on toilet seats because a big brown African spider may be lurking under the seat waiting to bite my bottom and cause me instant death.

I will no longer pick up the $100.00 bills in the parking lot because they probably were placed there by a sex offender waiting underneath my car to grab my leg. Oh, I forgot. I won't be driving my car, so therefore, I won't be finding any $100.00 bills.

I will no longer do any gardening because the aforementioned spider will bite me and my hand will fall off. Does that mean that if it bites me on the butt, my butt will fall off ?

An Australian scientist from Uzbeckistan, after a lengthy study and using millions of American taxpayers' dollars because he received a bail-out package, has determined that people with insufficient brain activity read this entire post with their hand on the mouse...or for those without mice, both their forefingers on two buttons on their laptop.

Don't bother taking it (them) off now. It's too late.

 

This is the ball that drops on Times Square that I photographed while in Macy's with the rest of humanity.  If you want to experience the ball dropping, just enlarge the photo on your screen, toss your screen in the air, and it will drop.

Have you eaten your black-eyed peas yet ?

Stay tuned for our menu of ham, black-eyed peas, greens, and cornbread.

HAPPY NEW YEAR, Ya'll !

Christmas at Our House

Before I start chopping down carefully removing the ormanents from the tree, this post just had to go up.

Christmas just wouldn't be Christmas without children. Here are the two we were lucky enough to have made some special memories with for the last five days.

 

Yes, Virginia Ava, there is a Santa Claus. And, he knows that you are in Colorado with your Pops and Gammy.

 

Does she look like her Daddy, or what ?

 

I'm not sure what your mommy is feeding you, but it appears to contain something that causes green horns to sprout from your head.

 

June Bug appointed herself Lucien's personal body guard.

 

But, she did allow us to take this photograph of Lucien and his mommy.

 

Ava and Daddy getting ready to go snowboarding in a blizzard.

 

Hot-Tubbing it in single-digit temps. Doesn't seem to bother them as they are enveloped with steam.

 

Ava had to take over as the foreman for the construction of the gingerbread house. There didn't seem to be anyone in the house who had the skills to frame it.

 

Wouldn't you love to know what Lucien is thinking right now ?
(Caption this photo.)

 

Mommy (MoMo) and Daddy. Remember, she's the one with THIS BLOG.

 

I promise, June Bug did NOT lick that nipple. She tried.

 

Sweet kisses for her little brother.

 

Christmas Dinner !

 

I wondered what that noise was...stereophonic snoring.

Holiday Greetings from Colorado

Here are a few photos from the area around Redstone, with wishes for you and yours to have a healthy, happy, and safe "hollyday" season and 2009.

         

As we say it at our place, "Merry Christmas" from Hans and Kathy aka: AnodeMan and Swampy.

Poinsettia...How Do YOU Pronounce It?

This has become a tradition here. Please tell us how you pronounce this flower.

   

Message from the Emergency Swampcast System:  If you watch the Today Show on Saturday the 13th, I plan to be there holding a sign that says hi to all of you.

*************************************************************************

I want to thank my good friend, Equoni in Montana, who advised me that according to Snopes, this is incorrect information.  So, if you have received an e-mail that resembles this, please know that your cards will not be delivered.  Thanks, Cristy !

When sending your "hollyday" wishes this year, spend one extra minute and send one to someone who deserves to receive some special words of encouragement...

A Recovering Soldier
c/o Walter Reed Army Medical Center
6900 Georgia Avenue NW
Washington, D.C.  20307-5001

Clink this Link for the TRUTH.

 

 

Gingerbread House Tradition

Yes, it's been quite some time since a new post, and it may be a while longer before anything of prolific quality appears here again...a very long time.

So, until the brain decides to re-engage, just enjoy this...

 

 

I have mixed feelings about traditions. Sometimes I think that traditions can get in the way of enjoying the holiday season because many times, it's impossible to follow them...for whatever reason i .e.  weather, mixed-up schedules, illness, travel plans, etc. Other times, traditions provide warm fuzzies for me and are looked forward to with much excitement.

Such is the case with our GINGERBREAD HOUSE TRADITION.  In the amount of time it took to construct these creations, we could have built a real house. But, there's no way to "measure the memories" that were 'built' here.

When time permits, the "step-by-step" photographic documentary will follow, but until then, this will have to do.

Oh, and no gingerbread house is complete without a marshmallow caterpillar...

             

Anyone care for a lick of mushed up marshmallow?

How to Thaw a Turkey

I guess before you "dress" a turkey as shown below, you must thaw it first...