10-10-10
Around the beginning of October someone threw a cement block and a piece of 4x4 fence post with cement attached to it over my privacy fence, that faces the alley way, well into my yard. In other words, they did not simply drop it over but heaved the heavy pieces a good distance in height and length. Sort of Olympic style. Also they hauled over a full 8' 4x4 fence post, also with a big glob of cement on one end, and threw/laid it in front of the gate. I assume they thought they were blocking me from opening the gate into the alley but luckily for me, the gate opens inward.
These pieces had been lying along the outside of my fence for a couple of months in order to protect it from yet another hit from a vehicle as has happened on at least two occasions. Sis surmises that possibly two drunk individuals had hit the pieces (instead of my fence) in the wee hours of the morning and were greatly pissed about damage to their vehicle. So heave they did (hopefully in more ways than one) and I can only guess their backs were hurting badly the next day.
Yesterday I asked my burly neighbor (who is constantly asking me if I need any help with anything) if he would place the pieces back into their original positions, thereby protecting my fence once again but possibly causing me hurt in the future when these individuals happen along again in the middle of the night. It had to be done though, as I cannot tolerate intimidation. So the pieces were replaced late yesterday.
Today this is what my horoscope reads: You might find yourself in the position to take advantage of another's generosity, but if you're really smart, you'll discard that idea. Later you'll be glad you did.
Too late.........
Sunday, October 10, 2010
Sunday, September 26, 2010
Tribute to Toots
During my late teen years, my best friend was Toots. I met her right after she moved there, when my younger sister, who knew everyone in our small town in Broward County, Florida, even if they were just visiting for a day or week, introduced us. Our family had moved there nearly a year earlier from Dade County. Toots and I instantly bonded. We were both thin and blondish, the same height, both from Michigan, born in the same month of the same year. In the same grade and even had some classes together. I would never have met her at school. I was too shy and quiet, especially in grade 11, to meet anyone at school. I was a different person at home. Still nothing like my extroverted sister, Marie.
Toots was a good girl. You could tell that right off the bat and that fact never changed as long as I knew her. You could tell by her manner, her words, her smile, everything about her advertised good, innocent, pure of heart, mind, and body. It was too late for me as I had already been date-raped as soon as I moved to that town. Before that I was as pure and innocent as Toots. I felt damaged now. And unbeknown to me, the whole town knew because my perpetrator bragged far and wide what he had accomplished. I did not find out about this for years.
Toots' goodness did not prevent the two of us from getting wild and crazy. We bought and wore outlandish clothes. We colored our blond hair in red, yellow, blue, and green and went to school like that. (We used food coloring or crepe paper so it was permanent.) This was a totally unusual thing to do in our town or maybe anywhere during that time period, early fifties. Our parents never said a word about it. Parents were smarter in those days, as we soon tired of it on our own. We were not thrown out of school, though one teacher called us the Bobbsey Twins. Otherwise little attention was paid to us.
We skipped school a couple days every week. We would meet in front of the Principal's office, and then walk out. We would hang out all day at home or in a booth drinking cokes with a bookie we knew at Bill and Dale's Drugstore. The booth was the bookie's office and he was doing business as we sat there. Taking bets, telling us his life story of how he ran away from home for good in Puerto Rico at age 10, or ordering his guys to break the man's leg if he did not pay up NOW. We never ever got into trouble for skipping school nor were we reprimanded by anyone. It was amazing. We didn't really believe anyone's leg got broken. We were that naive.
At night we would dress in anything outlandish that we could think of: maybe short shorts, one of our father's long sleeved white dress shirts that covered our shorts, knee length socks. We would stick a cigarette into a long cigarette holder or sometimes we sucked on small unlit lady-like pipes. We would do our multicolored hair in ponytails sticking out on either side of our head with huge colorful bows. We would do anything for attention. We would walk the mile to the park where everyone hung out every night. This park was large, well-lit, had the usual playground equipment, lots of picnic tables for gathering, a small building with three guys who sold snacks, patrolled, handed out footballs, basketballs, and watched us all very carefully. Everyone behaved.
We hung out with anyone and everyone. Including the son of a junk dealer (who later was eliminated as our friend because Toots' dad met him and decided that she should watch who her friends were. This was much later though.) She and I sometimes hung out with a young guy from Puerto Rico who did not speak much English. He and the junk dealer's son took us to dimly lit Roadhouses where we drank whatever they ordered for us. We had lots of fun, but other than drinking, it was clean fun. Of course, we were lucky we were not assaulted or hurt in any way. I cannot think of one instance of feeling we were ever in danger.
If a carload of guys came along while we were walking at night and I knew at least one of them, we got right in. Our lives were reckless and probably dangerous by today's standards and clearly wild by early 50's standards but we remained safe and unmolested for some strange reason. I think it was Toots' sweetness. She was just a nice girl and everyone could tell and respected that. I was already damaged but her reputation protected me somehow.
One thing I remember her telling me, that made her face red to even tell it. She had gone on a date with one of the guys we knew. Probably a movie. When he drove her home, she was in a hurry to get out of the car and into the house but she did not want him to come in. She did want to be polite. So what she said was, do you want to come in.....there is nothing to do but go to bed. Luckily he got the right message and just said good-night.
You may get the idea that Toots was a ditsy blond. You would be wrong. She made straight A's and interned for a legal secretary position when she was in high school. After graduation she accepted a full-time position. She would have done well in college but we did not even know anyone who went to college. The goal was to be married by age 21 and not to be an old maid. Not only ours, but every other teenage girl we knew. Some married as young as 14. Well, there were other reasons for that but they also did not want to be old maids. Problem solved.
I don't even remember who instigated most of our antics as we both had daring personalities. Regardless, we were simply girls trying to have fun (nothing like Girls Gone Wild of today.)
We accumulated some other girlfriends to make up a group, which we called the Keeny Klub. We all hung out for awhile and had silly fun. Toots was Ginger Keen and I was Rosy Keen. There was a Peachy Keen and a Velvet Keen. (She named herself. Not sure what that was about). Others slip my mind. Whatever! This is about Toots. In my autograph book Toots wrote in 1953: "Remember the Keeny Klub and our wonderful times together. Especially Friday the 13th at the Blvd." I remember the wonderful times but that particular night slips my mind. I wish she had elaborated. I would bet that would be a great memory.
I had more laughs with Toots than anyone else in my lifetime. We would be walking home from the drive-in or a football game and both of us laughing until we cried. What was so funny? I have no idea but whatever it was should be bottled and sold.
After we were out of school and hanging out nights at Eddie's Drive-in Restaurant, Toots met her future husband. We were inside with a bunch of friends while packed cars were parked around the perimeter of the building. The place was crowded every single night. A male friend of ours came in and asked me to step outside to meet someone. I followed him out to a new Ford Fairlane. Behind the wheel was a handsome guy I had never seen before. I was introduced and chatted for a minute. Then I excused myself and went back inside. Then Toots was called out and she was introduced to her future husband.
I never knew if she was aware of the circumstances or not. I never thought to ask her. I found out later. The guy I will call E had driven over that night from a neighboring town. He told some guys that were hanging outside that he was ready to get married and looking for a virgin. A mistake was made when I was called out but quickly rectified with Toots. They married shortly after that and I always assumed they lived happily ever after.
When I moved back to Dade County a couple years later and met my own husband, we still kept in touch and saw each other on occasion. She had three boys and I had a boy and a girl. When she called in 1971 to say they were moving to Colorado, I said good bye, so long, because I figured I would never see her again. I did not tell her to write or ask for her new address. I could never have imagined I would travel in later years and spend a lot of time in Colorado. One just can't fathom what the future holds.
I lost touch with Toots but never forgot her. Then along came the computer many years later and the possibility of actually locating long lost friends. I began to search as soon as I knew there was such a thing. I could never locate her though. Of course my search centered on Colorado. Then two years ago I discovered the Social Security Death Index. I decided to look there. Sadly I found that she had died just 6 months earlier. More searching brought information that she had divorced E in Colorado and moved back to Florida years ago. If I had only known, I would have made sure to travel down there to see her and spend time with her again. But too late. My dear friend Toots is gone forever. RIP Tootsie (as my daddy loved to call you.)
Toots was a good girl. You could tell that right off the bat and that fact never changed as long as I knew her. You could tell by her manner, her words, her smile, everything about her advertised good, innocent, pure of heart, mind, and body. It was too late for me as I had already been date-raped as soon as I moved to that town. Before that I was as pure and innocent as Toots. I felt damaged now. And unbeknown to me, the whole town knew because my perpetrator bragged far and wide what he had accomplished. I did not find out about this for years.
Toots' goodness did not prevent the two of us from getting wild and crazy. We bought and wore outlandish clothes. We colored our blond hair in red, yellow, blue, and green and went to school like that. (We used food coloring or crepe paper so it was permanent.) This was a totally unusual thing to do in our town or maybe anywhere during that time period, early fifties. Our parents never said a word about it. Parents were smarter in those days, as we soon tired of it on our own. We were not thrown out of school, though one teacher called us the Bobbsey Twins. Otherwise little attention was paid to us.
We skipped school a couple days every week. We would meet in front of the Principal's office, and then walk out. We would hang out all day at home or in a booth drinking cokes with a bookie we knew at Bill and Dale's Drugstore. The booth was the bookie's office and he was doing business as we sat there. Taking bets, telling us his life story of how he ran away from home for good in Puerto Rico at age 10, or ordering his guys to break the man's leg if he did not pay up NOW. We never ever got into trouble for skipping school nor were we reprimanded by anyone. It was amazing. We didn't really believe anyone's leg got broken. We were that naive.
At night we would dress in anything outlandish that we could think of: maybe short shorts, one of our father's long sleeved white dress shirts that covered our shorts, knee length socks. We would stick a cigarette into a long cigarette holder or sometimes we sucked on small unlit lady-like pipes. We would do our multicolored hair in ponytails sticking out on either side of our head with huge colorful bows. We would do anything for attention. We would walk the mile to the park where everyone hung out every night. This park was large, well-lit, had the usual playground equipment, lots of picnic tables for gathering, a small building with three guys who sold snacks, patrolled, handed out footballs, basketballs, and watched us all very carefully. Everyone behaved.
We hung out with anyone and everyone. Including the son of a junk dealer (who later was eliminated as our friend because Toots' dad met him and decided that she should watch who her friends were. This was much later though.) She and I sometimes hung out with a young guy from Puerto Rico who did not speak much English. He and the junk dealer's son took us to dimly lit Roadhouses where we drank whatever they ordered for us. We had lots of fun, but other than drinking, it was clean fun. Of course, we were lucky we were not assaulted or hurt in any way. I cannot think of one instance of feeling we were ever in danger.
If a carload of guys came along while we were walking at night and I knew at least one of them, we got right in. Our lives were reckless and probably dangerous by today's standards and clearly wild by early 50's standards but we remained safe and unmolested for some strange reason. I think it was Toots' sweetness. She was just a nice girl and everyone could tell and respected that. I was already damaged but her reputation protected me somehow.
One thing I remember her telling me, that made her face red to even tell it. She had gone on a date with one of the guys we knew. Probably a movie. When he drove her home, she was in a hurry to get out of the car and into the house but she did not want him to come in. She did want to be polite. So what she said was, do you want to come in.....there is nothing to do but go to bed. Luckily he got the right message and just said good-night.
You may get the idea that Toots was a ditsy blond. You would be wrong. She made straight A's and interned for a legal secretary position when she was in high school. After graduation she accepted a full-time position. She would have done well in college but we did not even know anyone who went to college. The goal was to be married by age 21 and not to be an old maid. Not only ours, but every other teenage girl we knew. Some married as young as 14. Well, there were other reasons for that but they also did not want to be old maids. Problem solved.
I don't even remember who instigated most of our antics as we both had daring personalities. Regardless, we were simply girls trying to have fun (nothing like Girls Gone Wild of today.)
We accumulated some other girlfriends to make up a group, which we called the Keeny Klub. We all hung out for awhile and had silly fun. Toots was Ginger Keen and I was Rosy Keen. There was a Peachy Keen and a Velvet Keen. (She named herself. Not sure what that was about). Others slip my mind. Whatever! This is about Toots. In my autograph book Toots wrote in 1953: "Remember the Keeny Klub and our wonderful times together. Especially Friday the 13th at the Blvd." I remember the wonderful times but that particular night slips my mind. I wish she had elaborated. I would bet that would be a great memory.
I had more laughs with Toots than anyone else in my lifetime. We would be walking home from the drive-in or a football game and both of us laughing until we cried. What was so funny? I have no idea but whatever it was should be bottled and sold.
After we were out of school and hanging out nights at Eddie's Drive-in Restaurant, Toots met her future husband. We were inside with a bunch of friends while packed cars were parked around the perimeter of the building. The place was crowded every single night. A male friend of ours came in and asked me to step outside to meet someone. I followed him out to a new Ford Fairlane. Behind the wheel was a handsome guy I had never seen before. I was introduced and chatted for a minute. Then I excused myself and went back inside. Then Toots was called out and she was introduced to her future husband.
I never knew if she was aware of the circumstances or not. I never thought to ask her. I found out later. The guy I will call E had driven over that night from a neighboring town. He told some guys that were hanging outside that he was ready to get married and looking for a virgin. A mistake was made when I was called out but quickly rectified with Toots. They married shortly after that and I always assumed they lived happily ever after.
When I moved back to Dade County a couple years later and met my own husband, we still kept in touch and saw each other on occasion. She had three boys and I had a boy and a girl. When she called in 1971 to say they were moving to Colorado, I said good bye, so long, because I figured I would never see her again. I did not tell her to write or ask for her new address. I could never have imagined I would travel in later years and spend a lot of time in Colorado. One just can't fathom what the future holds.
I lost touch with Toots but never forgot her. Then along came the computer many years later and the possibility of actually locating long lost friends. I began to search as soon as I knew there was such a thing. I could never locate her though. Of course my search centered on Colorado. Then two years ago I discovered the Social Security Death Index. I decided to look there. Sadly I found that she had died just 6 months earlier. More searching brought information that she had divorced E in Colorado and moved back to Florida years ago. If I had only known, I would have made sure to travel down there to see her and spend time with her again. But too late. My dear friend Toots is gone forever. RIP Tootsie (as my daddy loved to call you.)
Thursday, July 15, 2010
My 15 Favorite Adventures
I made this list and emailed it to a friend. Now I am going to post it here for all eternity. lol
1. Hiked 8 miles into the Fakahatchee Swamp with Bert following a narrow strip of dry land with swamp on both sides. Spent the night in jungle hammocks, thankfully protected from the billions of hungry mosquitoes we could hear swarming from out of the bushes and trees and surrounding us throughout the night. Had near bear encounter on the way out. 300# black bear ran and hid while we examined his fresh armadillo kill and his huge claw marks on the ground. We did not see any other people until we were nearly out. We met two biologists who were coming in and they told us the size of the bear. A biologist interviewed for the Smithsonian magazine said the swamp is home to 22 species of snakes, many alligators, panthers, and black bears. He said he would never go into the swamp after dark or alone during the day.
2. Camped in and explored the Amazon jungle as Bert and I traveled from Manaus, Brazil to ..... for 3 weeks, sleeping beside rivers in jungle hammocks. Endured relentless rain and biting insects of all kinds. Neither of us spoke Portuguese but we had visitors to our camp daily who spoke no English. We spent hours around a campfire conversing somehow and understanding each other, mostly. Brought home a 7 foot snake that Bert caught on the road. Customs did not want to look into the bag so no problem bringing it in. We named him Sete, Portuguese for seven. He joined our 10 ft reticulated python, Monty and our sweet California mountain kingsnake, Coco, both of which Bert had caught in Miami.
3. Spent one month exploring Peru with Bert. Visited Lake Titicaca and Machu Picchu. Had to be driven 30 miles to the airport the night we left for US in an old wreck of a car with a stranger driving. The hotel staff was suddenly very afraid we would be kidnapped by the Shining Path Rebels if we took a taxi. I did not trust the man driving so had some long knitting needles aimed at the back of his seat ready to punch through his body in case he drove past the airport.
4. Rode a mule into the Grand Canyon down the Bright Angel Trail to Plateau Point. One day, 10 hours, no overnight. The crowd waiting for a show when we dismounted our mules after return to the visitor center had a roaring good laugh when I attempted to walk away from mine. Ouchie.
5. Slept nightly for 2 weeks in the Yukon in secluded parks in an open backed jeep beside signs that said: WARNING- Dangerous bear in area. Explored the off-roads of the Yukon.
6. Rafted white water in North Carolina Mountains. Bert and I alone in a rubber raft. We had lied about having experience. Son and girlfriend in another raft, also having lied, turned over and son nearly died. He was injured and rescued but couldn't wait to go back to do it again.
7. Went sailing with inexperienced drunken sailor (Bert) in his homemade sailboat with a cabin on Biscayne Bay. Spent one night with boat lying sideways on a reef in a storm. Had to be towed back to the dock by Coast Guard the next day. They set us loose about 100 feet from the dock. Rudder was broken so Bert had to swim to the dock with a rope between his teeth that was tied to the boat.
8. Got rid of everything we owned and lived and traveled in a motorhome for nearly 10 years. Visited every state in the Union except Rhode Island. Somehow missed that one. Did not drive the motorhome to Hawaii. Decided to fly instead. lol
9. Swam with large alligators in the Everglades during a very hot day hike.
10. Rappelled down a 50' cliff with a large overhang. The overhang was the tricky part. Stepping off the cliff was the hard part. Connecting with the cliff under the overhang was the best part. Walking down the cliff was the fun part. Looking down at mid-point was the dumb part. Not panicking/fainting/peeing my pants was the brave part. Bert down below holding the other end of the rope was the comfort part. Standing on solid ground again...priceless. This was not with a group. Just Bert and I in the middle of nowhere.
11. Explored slippery ice caves in Colorado. Spelunked as long as 8 hours at a time in wild muddy caves in Florida, Indiana, Kentucky, and Alabama. Mostly crawling.
12. Slept in a pup tent in a pasture with Brahman bulls. Accidentally. Yelled at a calf trying to get in during the night. I thought it was a dog. A huge angry Brahman bull stomped and snorted just outside the tent flap, badly wanting to take us out. He wanted to see the whites of our eyes first. We did not make a peep nor take a peek.
13. Slept in a pup tent on top of a fire ant nest in another pasture. Accidentally. Did not know it until we pulled up the tent liner the next morning. There on the ground was a 4 x 6 foot rectangle of angry red ants. There was no earth to be seen in the undulating mass. If they had found the opening, I would not be here today.
14. Slept in a pup tent in a large alligator's nest beside a river one night. We had canoed for 12 hours through a swamp during high water season looking for dry land. Mistakenly borrowed the alligator's nest during the dark of night. When we woke up at daybreak, the 12 foot alligator was staring at us from the middle of the river and he appeared to be pretty upset.
15. Rode bicycles along the Shark Valley Loop Road in the Everglades when it was mostly covered in a half foot of water at night when the park was closed. Just Bert and I sharing the watery trail with alligators, water moccasins. pigmy rattlesnakes, bright eyes shining from the darkness, and everything else that slithered by during the 4 hour-15 mile ride/walk.
1. Hiked 8 miles into the Fakahatchee Swamp with Bert following a narrow strip of dry land with swamp on both sides. Spent the night in jungle hammocks, thankfully protected from the billions of hungry mosquitoes we could hear swarming from out of the bushes and trees and surrounding us throughout the night. Had near bear encounter on the way out. 300# black bear ran and hid while we examined his fresh armadillo kill and his huge claw marks on the ground. We did not see any other people until we were nearly out. We met two biologists who were coming in and they told us the size of the bear. A biologist interviewed for the Smithsonian magazine said the swamp is home to 22 species of snakes, many alligators, panthers, and black bears. He said he would never go into the swamp after dark or alone during the day.
2. Camped in and explored the Amazon jungle as Bert and I traveled from Manaus, Brazil to ..... for 3 weeks, sleeping beside rivers in jungle hammocks. Endured relentless rain and biting insects of all kinds. Neither of us spoke Portuguese but we had visitors to our camp daily who spoke no English. We spent hours around a campfire conversing somehow and understanding each other, mostly. Brought home a 7 foot snake that Bert caught on the road. Customs did not want to look into the bag so no problem bringing it in. We named him Sete, Portuguese for seven. He joined our 10 ft reticulated python, Monty and our sweet California mountain kingsnake, Coco, both of which Bert had caught in Miami.
3. Spent one month exploring Peru with Bert. Visited Lake Titicaca and Machu Picchu. Had to be driven 30 miles to the airport the night we left for US in an old wreck of a car with a stranger driving. The hotel staff was suddenly very afraid we would be kidnapped by the Shining Path Rebels if we took a taxi. I did not trust the man driving so had some long knitting needles aimed at the back of his seat ready to punch through his body in case he drove past the airport.
4. Rode a mule into the Grand Canyon down the Bright Angel Trail to Plateau Point. One day, 10 hours, no overnight. The crowd waiting for a show when we dismounted our mules after return to the visitor center had a roaring good laugh when I attempted to walk away from mine. Ouchie.
5. Slept nightly for 2 weeks in the Yukon in secluded parks in an open backed jeep beside signs that said: WARNING- Dangerous bear in area. Explored the off-roads of the Yukon.
6. Rafted white water in North Carolina Mountains. Bert and I alone in a rubber raft. We had lied about having experience. Son and girlfriend in another raft, also having lied, turned over and son nearly died. He was injured and rescued but couldn't wait to go back to do it again.
7. Went sailing with inexperienced drunken sailor (Bert) in his homemade sailboat with a cabin on Biscayne Bay. Spent one night with boat lying sideways on a reef in a storm. Had to be towed back to the dock by Coast Guard the next day. They set us loose about 100 feet from the dock. Rudder was broken so Bert had to swim to the dock with a rope between his teeth that was tied to the boat.
8. Got rid of everything we owned and lived and traveled in a motorhome for nearly 10 years. Visited every state in the Union except Rhode Island. Somehow missed that one. Did not drive the motorhome to Hawaii. Decided to fly instead. lol
9. Swam with large alligators in the Everglades during a very hot day hike.
10. Rappelled down a 50' cliff with a large overhang. The overhang was the tricky part. Stepping off the cliff was the hard part. Connecting with the cliff under the overhang was the best part. Walking down the cliff was the fun part. Looking down at mid-point was the dumb part. Not panicking/fainting/peeing my pants was the brave part. Bert down below holding the other end of the rope was the comfort part. Standing on solid ground again...priceless. This was not with a group. Just Bert and I in the middle of nowhere.
11. Explored slippery ice caves in Colorado. Spelunked as long as 8 hours at a time in wild muddy caves in Florida, Indiana, Kentucky, and Alabama. Mostly crawling.
12. Slept in a pup tent in a pasture with Brahman bulls. Accidentally. Yelled at a calf trying to get in during the night. I thought it was a dog. A huge angry Brahman bull stomped and snorted just outside the tent flap, badly wanting to take us out. He wanted to see the whites of our eyes first. We did not make a peep nor take a peek.
13. Slept in a pup tent on top of a fire ant nest in another pasture. Accidentally. Did not know it until we pulled up the tent liner the next morning. There on the ground was a 4 x 6 foot rectangle of angry red ants. There was no earth to be seen in the undulating mass. If they had found the opening, I would not be here today.
14. Slept in a pup tent in a large alligator's nest beside a river one night. We had canoed for 12 hours through a swamp during high water season looking for dry land. Mistakenly borrowed the alligator's nest during the dark of night. When we woke up at daybreak, the 12 foot alligator was staring at us from the middle of the river and he appeared to be pretty upset.
15. Rode bicycles along the Shark Valley Loop Road in the Everglades when it was mostly covered in a half foot of water at night when the park was closed. Just Bert and I sharing the watery trail with alligators, water moccasins. pigmy rattlesnakes, bright eyes shining from the darkness, and everything else that slithered by during the 4 hour-15 mile ride/walk.
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
Photos of..........whatever
Our old rented farm house, circa 1920, back in North Carolina. We lived there for nearly 10 years. Boy, I miss it.
My backyard in my new old house in Tennessee. I like the yard. The house.... not so much. Another circa 1920 but not much personality.
Green, red, orange, yellow peppers plus broccoli, baby portobello mushrooms, red onions, garlic, and chopped celery scrambled in evoo over med. heat and sprinkled with dry sherry. About to add cooked brown rice and chopped cooked turkey. Then a few splashes of soy sauce. Yum!
Refrigerate and remove fat before making gravy or soup with homemade turkey or beef broth. Yes, there could be this much fat. Yuk!
My beautiful full tomato plants taken down by the winds, stakes and all. No going back either. Heartbreaking. That was last year. Hoping for better luck this year.
My bottomless flower chair on my front porch. Loved it so much last year. Not as pretty this year but not summer yet either. LOL Time will tell.
My rather unique fireplace. It was a coal fireplace, not wood so not usable now except with gas coal or candles. I chose candles. The painting is of my late husband. The hearth is colbalt blue tiles that I installed.
My foyer after a whole lot of hard labor by myself and many others. The peonies are from my back yard. I grew the gourds in my back yard a few years ago. The painting of the banyon tree is by me. The plant in the pot is fake but looks very real. I like my foyer.
Thursday, March 18, 2010
Ceder-Deder
There is a man from my past that I must write about. I cannot remember his real name but I remember the nicknames that I made up for him.
He was an older man. I believe he was 32 when I met him. I was 13.
My brother worked at the concession stand at Boulevard Drive-in Theater in North Miami Beach Florida. We had recently moved there from Michigan. Since my brother worked there, I went to the movies every night and got in free. One night there was a raffle drawing for a large turkey. Thanksgiving was just days away.
I did not purchase any tickets but I was sitting beside a kid I knew who had a handful. He pulled one out and gave it to me. The next number called matched the ticket in my hand. I walked over to the food counter where a new guy was standing. I told him I had just won a turkey but I could not take it because my brother worked there. He winked and said you will get that turkey.
I said there was no way for me to get it home anyway because I could barely lift it (I was a skinny girl at that time), and I had to walk a mile down US 1 to get home. He said he would take me and the turkey home on his Harley. That seemed like a perfect solution. My family would surely be happy to have a free turkey for Thanksgiving. We were not in the best financial situation at that time.
So I hung around the counter the rest of the evening talking to this guy who, by the way, was very cute, clean cut, and really nice. He said he had just moved down from Washington DC. I told him I was going to call him DC. He said that was OK.
At about midnight, he took me and my frozen turkey home on his huge Harley and dropped me off in front. Then away he went. I did not even think to invite him to the turkey dinner.
After that I most often hung out at the concession stand talking to DC. Sometimes I actually watched part of a movie. He told me his age and that he was divorced from his wife who still lived in Washington. He told me about the time she had chased him down the stairs with a large pair of scissors. He had a three year old son whose photo looked just like him. I could tell he missed him very much. We talked and joked and laughed whenever he was not waiting on customers.
On his one night off a week, he came to my home and took me for rides on his Harley. My parents were never home in the evenings so I would invite all the neighborhood kids over and we would have fun playing music, card games, magic tricks, dancing, acting like fools, laughing, etc. DC would be there among the kids having as great a time as they were. The kids and I turned his nickname around from DC to CD and then to Ceder-Deder. That sounds pretty childish but some kids were only 11, like my sister and her friends. I feel sure that he knew it was all in fun and we all loved him.
He taught me to dance, always keeping a respectable foot of space between us, and he taught me to play chess. We spent hours having fun with all the kids that showed up on those nights. That went on for many months and then Ceder-Deder disappeared. Though I missed him, I filled in the empty space in my life with friends, school work, and life in general.
After about a year, when I was 14, Ceder-Deder showed up one sunny day. He told me he had just returned from Mexico and he brought me a very colorful satiny Mexican scarf. He also gave me a photo of himself that I cherish to this day. I had realized as I got older that DC was a more proper name for him and that is what I called him that bright summer day as we stood out by the road and talked for hours. I never thought to ask him inside. Then he was gone again.
Another year passed. I came home from school one day and Mom said that DC had come by and wanted me and my younger sister to go out with him the next night, which was Saturday. I was 15 and my sister was 13. My big brother was home and he flew mad at Mom and yelled that she had NO business letting us go out with an older guy and WHO knew WHAT the heck he was up to and WHAT the heck was he hanging out with KIDS for anyway? I was shocked. Brother had never said a bad word about DC. My mom ignored him.
As we drove toward Miami Beach, DC explained that he had gotten a call from a couple that he and his ex-wife had been friends with in Washington. They were in Miami Beach on their honeymoon and they wanted him to bring a date and meet them for an evening of dining and clubbing. My mind was whirling with this news. I did not possess the slightest bit of sophistication. My uneasiness grew the closer we got to our destination.
When we arrived amongst the bright lights and crowds in Miami Beach, I was wondering what in the world DC had been thinking. The couple was waiting on the sidewalk in front of their hotel with big smiles when we drove up. They got into the backseat and I could feel the trepidation and subdued anger emanating from them as DC introduced Sister and I as his "dates". Stunned silence ensued.
DC drove straight to Wolfie's which was a popular brightly lit restaurant on Collins Avenue. We all climbed out of the car and entered the restaurant and were seated in a huge booth with red leather seats in a half-moon shape. First the couple slid in, then DC had Sister slide in beside them. Next he had me slide in and then he took his place on the end. We were nearly swallowed up by the size of those leather seats and the huge round table.
The silence was deafening as we looked at our menus. I so wanted to not be there. Again, what was DC thinking? We all ordered. The couple tried to make small talk with DC, seemingly intent on ignoring the fact that he had two young girls with him. He was not acting sullen but kind of cheerfully quiet and politely evasive. Every now and then Sister would say something and I would kick her to shut her up. It was excruciating. The couple tried to talk about the old days when DC and his then wife and this couple had such great times together in Washington. "Oh, remember that time....." They got little response.
They tried to get DC to talk about what he had been doing since leaving Washington. Again little or no feedback from DC. I could not figure out why we were here. Somehow I decided that this evening was some sort of message that this couple was supposed to take back to his ex-wife in Washington. But for the life of me, I could not figure out what that message might be. Maybe that DC had completely lost his mind, was all I could come up with.
Finally we had all choked down our food, probably not even noticing it was delicious, and climbed into the car for what was supposed to be a night of clubbing and seeing the sights. As we drove down the street away from the restaurant, the couple suddenly announced, you can let us out right here. DC obligingly pulled to the curb and they jumped out of the car, yelled goodnight, and hurried off down the sidewalk, disappearing into the crowd.
Not another word was spoken in the car as DC silently maneuvered into the traffic. We drove for awhile and then he turned off onto a side street and headed for a darkened building on some sort of waterfront dock area. He parked the car in front of a low building that had one lighted window. He told us to wait in the car for a few minutes. We watched as he disappeared down some steps and into a dimly lit doorway.
click on photo to enlarge:
He was an older man. I believe he was 32 when I met him. I was 13.
My brother worked at the concession stand at Boulevard Drive-in Theater in North Miami Beach Florida. We had recently moved there from Michigan. Since my brother worked there, I went to the movies every night and got in free. One night there was a raffle drawing for a large turkey. Thanksgiving was just days away.
I did not purchase any tickets but I was sitting beside a kid I knew who had a handful. He pulled one out and gave it to me. The next number called matched the ticket in my hand. I walked over to the food counter where a new guy was standing. I told him I had just won a turkey but I could not take it because my brother worked there. He winked and said you will get that turkey.
I said there was no way for me to get it home anyway because I could barely lift it (I was a skinny girl at that time), and I had to walk a mile down US 1 to get home. He said he would take me and the turkey home on his Harley. That seemed like a perfect solution. My family would surely be happy to have a free turkey for Thanksgiving. We were not in the best financial situation at that time.
So I hung around the counter the rest of the evening talking to this guy who, by the way, was very cute, clean cut, and really nice. He said he had just moved down from Washington DC. I told him I was going to call him DC. He said that was OK.
At about midnight, he took me and my frozen turkey home on his huge Harley and dropped me off in front. Then away he went. I did not even think to invite him to the turkey dinner.
After that I most often hung out at the concession stand talking to DC. Sometimes I actually watched part of a movie. He told me his age and that he was divorced from his wife who still lived in Washington. He told me about the time she had chased him down the stairs with a large pair of scissors. He had a three year old son whose photo looked just like him. I could tell he missed him very much. We talked and joked and laughed whenever he was not waiting on customers.
On his one night off a week, he came to my home and took me for rides on his Harley. My parents were never home in the evenings so I would invite all the neighborhood kids over and we would have fun playing music, card games, magic tricks, dancing, acting like fools, laughing, etc. DC would be there among the kids having as great a time as they were. The kids and I turned his nickname around from DC to CD and then to Ceder-Deder. That sounds pretty childish but some kids were only 11, like my sister and her friends. I feel sure that he knew it was all in fun and we all loved him.
He taught me to dance, always keeping a respectable foot of space between us, and he taught me to play chess. We spent hours having fun with all the kids that showed up on those nights. That went on for many months and then Ceder-Deder disappeared. Though I missed him, I filled in the empty space in my life with friends, school work, and life in general.
After about a year, when I was 14, Ceder-Deder showed up one sunny day. He told me he had just returned from Mexico and he brought me a very colorful satiny Mexican scarf. He also gave me a photo of himself that I cherish to this day. I had realized as I got older that DC was a more proper name for him and that is what I called him that bright summer day as we stood out by the road and talked for hours. I never thought to ask him inside. Then he was gone again.
Another year passed. I came home from school one day and Mom said that DC had come by and wanted me and my younger sister to go out with him the next night, which was Saturday. I was 15 and my sister was 13. My big brother was home and he flew mad at Mom and yelled that she had NO business letting us go out with an older guy and WHO knew WHAT the heck he was up to and WHAT the heck was he hanging out with KIDS for anyway? I was shocked. Brother had never said a bad word about DC. My mom ignored him.
The next night Sister and I got ready and waited for DC to pick us up. He arrived driving an older black sedan. When we got into the front seat, I sat next to him and forced my sister to sit by the door. I was a bit nervous though because my brother had put some fear into me and my uneasiness probably showed. The air was static where it never had been before.
As we drove toward Miami Beach, DC explained that he had gotten a call from a couple that he and his ex-wife had been friends with in Washington. They were in Miami Beach on their honeymoon and they wanted him to bring a date and meet them for an evening of dining and clubbing. My mind was whirling with this news. I did not possess the slightest bit of sophistication. My uneasiness grew the closer we got to our destination.
When we arrived amongst the bright lights and crowds in Miami Beach, I was wondering what in the world DC had been thinking. The couple was waiting on the sidewalk in front of their hotel with big smiles when we drove up. They got into the backseat and I could feel the trepidation and subdued anger emanating from them as DC introduced Sister and I as his "dates". Stunned silence ensued.
DC drove straight to Wolfie's which was a popular brightly lit restaurant on Collins Avenue. We all climbed out of the car and entered the restaurant and were seated in a huge booth with red leather seats in a half-moon shape. First the couple slid in, then DC had Sister slide in beside them. Next he had me slide in and then he took his place on the end. We were nearly swallowed up by the size of those leather seats and the huge round table.
The silence was deafening as we looked at our menus. I so wanted to not be there. Again, what was DC thinking? We all ordered. The couple tried to make small talk with DC, seemingly intent on ignoring the fact that he had two young girls with him. He was not acting sullen but kind of cheerfully quiet and politely evasive. Every now and then Sister would say something and I would kick her to shut her up. It was excruciating. The couple tried to talk about the old days when DC and his then wife and this couple had such great times together in Washington. "Oh, remember that time....." They got little response.
They tried to get DC to talk about what he had been doing since leaving Washington. Again little or no feedback from DC. I could not figure out why we were here. Somehow I decided that this evening was some sort of message that this couple was supposed to take back to his ex-wife in Washington. But for the life of me, I could not figure out what that message might be. Maybe that DC had completely lost his mind, was all I could come up with.
Finally we had all choked down our food, probably not even noticing it was delicious, and climbed into the car for what was supposed to be a night of clubbing and seeing the sights. As we drove down the street away from the restaurant, the couple suddenly announced, you can let us out right here. DC obligingly pulled to the curb and they jumped out of the car, yelled goodnight, and hurried off down the sidewalk, disappearing into the crowd.
Not another word was spoken in the car as DC silently maneuvered into the traffic. We drove for awhile and then he turned off onto a side street and headed for a darkened building on some sort of waterfront dock area. He parked the car in front of a low building that had one lighted window. He told us to wait in the car for a few minutes. We watched as he disappeared down some steps and into a dimly lit doorway.
We waited and for once, my sister did not open her mouth. Finally she was grasping the situation, whatever that was I still did not have a clue. DC came out after awhile and got into the car. He said he had just rejoined the Coast Guard. He said this with a voice that was without emotion. He had a heavy heart, I could tell, but I still did not know why this evening had happened.
He drove for the next 45 minutes in silence and dropped us off in front of our home. I had a sad feeling that I would never see him again. The best, nicest guy I had ever or would ever know. I was right. I never saw him again. And I still miss him to this day.
click on photo to enlarge:
I should mention that I really don't know if DC came back when I turned 16 because we moved to another city/county shortly after this incident. Whereupon I was promptly raped by one of the local yokels. (I added this after my lil sis read it.) She was pretty shocked reading about my friendship with DC so imagine her finding out that I was safer with him than with a sex-offender in the form of an older teenage boy whose main objective in life was to break the hymen of every young "heifer" in town as soon as she turned 12. He didn't get to me earlier because I was 15 when I moved there, but after betting a friend a dollar, he got me. Jay Conner Gould. What a winner.
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
Doctors...Ya Gotta Love Em.
My dad, his name was Al. Most of my life I worried that he would die. When I heard him tell his half-brother that the doctor had found a heart murmur, I was sure he was going to die. I worried...and worried. I was 16 and I did not want to lose my dad.
When I was 19 I heard Dad tell Mom that the doctor said he had hardening of the arteries. He was evidently told that he was in danger of losing his legs. He came home extremely distraught. How would he work again if he lost his legs? I never knew how the doctor knew this about his arteries. This was in the early 50s and I nor a lot of people had ever heard of cholesterol. I don't want to lose my legs, cried my hard-working daddy. He worried...and worried... and I fretted. That doctor had him scared to death. We waited for that fateful day. It never came.
When I was 28, three doctors confirmed to Dad that he had a stomach ulcer. They said he could not eat anything spicy, including his favorite dessert of all time, mincemeat pie. He wanted that pie so badly but he did not eat it. He had to watch his diet religiously if he wanted that painful ulcer to heal. For two years he watched everything he ate and hoped the awful pain would go away soon.
Finally he could stand the pain no longer and went into the hospital. He told Mom that he hoped he would not be there long because he had to get back to work. The doctors decided to open him up to check on that ulcer that was causing him so much pain.
They opened and closed. Two weeks later he was dead. One doctor called Mom saying, I am so sorry, I never even thought of stomach cancer.
My mom, her name was Alice. She survived being a widow and a year later married a man 10 years younger than she. She had a new lease on life, much different from her previous life. After 17 years of marriage she began to feel a lump in her throat when swallowing. She went to many doctors who looked and did not see anything. The last doctor told her it was nerves (lump in the throat? why it must be nerves.) and to go home and take Valium.
After about five or six doctors, she gave up and decided to treat it herself. She had some sort of spray that she sprayed into her throat to ease the discomfort. One morning, about two years later, as she stood in front of the bathroom mirror to spray her throat, something unseen grabbed her wrist and pulled the spray away from her mouth. Try as she might, she could not get her hand back to spray her throat.
She went to another doctor who soon discovered that she had a cancer growing between her windpipe and her backbone. It was pressing into the back of her windpipe. She had surgery and the doctor announced he was sure he had gotten it all. She suffered for the next 6 months through chemo and radiation and then died of suffocation when her lungs filled with cancer.
My late husband, his name was Bert. He was very active with his Grotto and spelunking and rappelling. He was off every weekend to explore caves with his younger buddies. He was 65 and they were in their 20's, 30's, and 40's. They could hardly keep up with him.
But the doctor found he had high cholesterol. He started taking statins to lower it. As side effects, he suffered muscle and bone pain. He could no longer keep up with his younger buddies. He became the lookout at the entrance while they explored caves. His memory began to fail him. People said he sometimes acted odd and worried about him. These are some of the side effects of statins but I guess we thought it was worth it.....
Because his cholesterol was under control.
When he was 68 the doctor found a spot on his lung. Come back in a year. He went back and the spot was still there, maybe a little bit larger, but not much. Cancer they said. We must remove half the lung for your own good.
They did the surgery and he survived the worst experience of his life in the VA hospital. It gave him nightmares for a year after. But the biggest nightmare of all was after he got home a couple weeks later and wanted me to look up his cancer on the internet. Now he knew what it was called.
It was called small cell. I looked it up and printed out the page. He read it and said, they've killed me. It turns out that small cell lung cancer should not be operated on because that causes it to spread into the bloodstream and invade the whole body. Two years later he was dead.
I am not knocking doctors. They try. But as far as I am concerned, my life is in my hands, not theirs. I will make the decisions on what medications I take, on what tests I have, on what decisions are made in my final days. I can only hope the powers that be will at least heed my directives.
When I was 19 I heard Dad tell Mom that the doctor said he had hardening of the arteries. He was evidently told that he was in danger of losing his legs. He came home extremely distraught. How would he work again if he lost his legs? I never knew how the doctor knew this about his arteries. This was in the early 50s and I nor a lot of people had ever heard of cholesterol. I don't want to lose my legs, cried my hard-working daddy. He worried...and worried... and I fretted. That doctor had him scared to death. We waited for that fateful day. It never came.
When I was 28, three doctors confirmed to Dad that he had a stomach ulcer. They said he could not eat anything spicy, including his favorite dessert of all time, mincemeat pie. He wanted that pie so badly but he did not eat it. He had to watch his diet religiously if he wanted that painful ulcer to heal. For two years he watched everything he ate and hoped the awful pain would go away soon.
Finally he could stand the pain no longer and went into the hospital. He told Mom that he hoped he would not be there long because he had to get back to work. The doctors decided to open him up to check on that ulcer that was causing him so much pain.
They opened and closed. Two weeks later he was dead. One doctor called Mom saying, I am so sorry, I never even thought of stomach cancer.
My mom, her name was Alice. She survived being a widow and a year later married a man 10 years younger than she. She had a new lease on life, much different from her previous life. After 17 years of marriage she began to feel a lump in her throat when swallowing. She went to many doctors who looked and did not see anything. The last doctor told her it was nerves (lump in the throat? why it must be nerves.) and to go home and take Valium.
After about five or six doctors, she gave up and decided to treat it herself. She had some sort of spray that she sprayed into her throat to ease the discomfort. One morning, about two years later, as she stood in front of the bathroom mirror to spray her throat, something unseen grabbed her wrist and pulled the spray away from her mouth. Try as she might, she could not get her hand back to spray her throat.
She went to another doctor who soon discovered that she had a cancer growing between her windpipe and her backbone. It was pressing into the back of her windpipe. She had surgery and the doctor announced he was sure he had gotten it all. She suffered for the next 6 months through chemo and radiation and then died of suffocation when her lungs filled with cancer.
My late husband, his name was Bert. He was very active with his Grotto and spelunking and rappelling. He was off every weekend to explore caves with his younger buddies. He was 65 and they were in their 20's, 30's, and 40's. They could hardly keep up with him.
But the doctor found he had high cholesterol. He started taking statins to lower it. As side effects, he suffered muscle and bone pain. He could no longer keep up with his younger buddies. He became the lookout at the entrance while they explored caves. His memory began to fail him. People said he sometimes acted odd and worried about him. These are some of the side effects of statins but I guess we thought it was worth it.....
Because his cholesterol was under control.
When he was 68 the doctor found a spot on his lung. Come back in a year. He went back and the spot was still there, maybe a little bit larger, but not much. Cancer they said. We must remove half the lung for your own good.
They did the surgery and he survived the worst experience of his life in the VA hospital. It gave him nightmares for a year after. But the biggest nightmare of all was after he got home a couple weeks later and wanted me to look up his cancer on the internet. Now he knew what it was called.
It was called small cell. I looked it up and printed out the page. He read it and said, they've killed me. It turns out that small cell lung cancer should not be operated on because that causes it to spread into the bloodstream and invade the whole body. Two years later he was dead.
I am not knocking doctors. They try. But as far as I am concerned, my life is in my hands, not theirs. I will make the decisions on what medications I take, on what tests I have, on what decisions are made in my final days. I can only hope the powers that be will at least heed my directives.
Sunday, January 17, 2010
Dear Abby
WTF??? Abby, I am sorry but you really need to pass some letters by and NOT respond. You are a very rich woman and have obviously led a very sheltered life. I can think of many letters you should have passed by, but the most striking are the stupid everyday household questions that people ask you when they should be (thinking for themselves) asking Dear Heloise. Or me.
note: the wording is not accurate in the following letters but the subject is.
First one that comes to mind:
Dear Abby, my husband steps out of the shower dripping wet and leaves the bath mat soaked. I hate stepping barefoot on it after he leaves the bathroom. Shouldn't he be drying off in the shower before he steps out? signed, Very Pissed
Answer: Dear Very, isn't that what bath mats are for? I see no reason why he should not step out of the shower to stand on the bath mat to dry off.
Me: Are you nuts? No, you are merely wealthy and you and husband obviously have separate bathrooms where you do not have to suffer the indignity of stepping in his drippings.
Another letter:
Dear Abby, my husband leaves the shower curtain open when he leaves the shower. I like it closed to prevent mildew and it looks better. He refuses to listen to me. signed, Please Be on My Side
Dear Please Be, I have checked with my favorite high-priced hotel in New York City or wherever, and their cleaning ladies suggest that the shower curtain be left gathered in the middle of the rod with both ends open for air circulation. Of course their shower curtains get laundered regularly. (dig)
Me: Are you nuts? I'll bet you do not know what mildew is. I'll bet you do not and have never had shower curtains. Where is Heloise when we need her? Dear Wives, you are right and your husbands are wrong. What else is new? They should be drying off in the damned shower and then stepping out. They should be closing the shower curtain completely so it can dry out and not mildew in the folds. There is plenty of air circulation above the curtain.
Abby, you are definitely following in your dear mother's footsteps. She being the original Dear Abby. I remember clearly, many many years ago, some other naive wife wrote to say her husband thought she should be ironing the bedsheets. Your mom said, of course she should be ironing the bedsheets. Then after your mom got a truckload of mail from worn-out "housewives" (as they were called way back when), she admitted that her maid ironed the bedsheets and she had no idea that everyone did not possess a mangle. And/or a live-in maid, apparently.
Note: for those who do not know, a mangle was a large machine with a heated padded roller used for pressing large items, such as bedsheets. And for those who don't know what a live-in maid is, well, neither do I.
Edited
Oh boy, do I have a good one here. This is from today's newspaper (Jan. 22, 2010) and it proves my point, in fact it proves a few of my points. This will be borrowed from Dear Abby's column word for word:
Dear Abby: I'm having a dispute with my husband. He thinks that you screw in a light bulb clockwise. I disagree. I say counter-clockwise. Which of us are correct? Erika/ALA.
Dear Erika: He is. You screw in a light bulb by turning it to the right, the same way you tighten the lid on a jar- which is clockwise. The mnemonic (why would you use a word such as this?) for this is: "Right is tight: left is loose."
OK, first question: Why are wives having these dumb arguments with their husbands? Why don't they just unscrew or screw in a light bulb to settle the argument instead of writing to Dear Abby? Why does Dear Abby choose to answer such inane questions when I will bet there is a letter in your pile from someone who really needs advice? (I have a theory. Some (including Dear Abby) are confused between Heloise and Dear Abby. You both have a silver streak in your hair and you each inherited your columns from your mother.)
And as usual the husband is right. Now here are possible scenarios that would have different outcomes. If one is screwing the light bulb into a socket overhead (as in on the ceiling) it is screwed in counter-clockwise and the wife is right. If said light bulb is being screwed into a table lamp it is screwed in clockwise and the husband is right. So in reality it is a draw.
But Dear Abby does not think of possibilities. There is only one answer: the husband is right. And as far as the "mnemonic" is concerned, if you want to quote verbatim, the correct wording is: righty tighty, lefty loosey. Thank you Dear Abby, you have made my day. Sorry for picking on you but I just can't help it.
note: the wording is not accurate in the following letters but the subject is.
First one that comes to mind:
Dear Abby, my husband steps out of the shower dripping wet and leaves the bath mat soaked. I hate stepping barefoot on it after he leaves the bathroom. Shouldn't he be drying off in the shower before he steps out? signed, Very Pissed
Answer: Dear Very, isn't that what bath mats are for? I see no reason why he should not step out of the shower to stand on the bath mat to dry off.
Me: Are you nuts? No, you are merely wealthy and you and husband obviously have separate bathrooms where you do not have to suffer the indignity of stepping in his drippings.
Another letter:
Dear Abby, my husband leaves the shower curtain open when he leaves the shower. I like it closed to prevent mildew and it looks better. He refuses to listen to me. signed, Please Be on My Side
Dear Please Be, I have checked with my favorite high-priced hotel in New York City or wherever, and their cleaning ladies suggest that the shower curtain be left gathered in the middle of the rod with both ends open for air circulation. Of course their shower curtains get laundered regularly. (dig)
Me: Are you nuts? I'll bet you do not know what mildew is. I'll bet you do not and have never had shower curtains. Where is Heloise when we need her? Dear Wives, you are right and your husbands are wrong. What else is new? They should be drying off in the damned shower and then stepping out. They should be closing the shower curtain completely so it can dry out and not mildew in the folds. There is plenty of air circulation above the curtain.
Abby, you are definitely following in your dear mother's footsteps. She being the original Dear Abby. I remember clearly, many many years ago, some other naive wife wrote to say her husband thought she should be ironing the bedsheets. Your mom said, of course she should be ironing the bedsheets. Then after your mom got a truckload of mail from worn-out "housewives" (as they were called way back when), she admitted that her maid ironed the bedsheets and she had no idea that everyone did not possess a mangle. And/or a live-in maid, apparently.
Note: for those who do not know, a mangle was a large machine with a heated padded roller used for pressing large items, such as bedsheets. And for those who don't know what a live-in maid is, well, neither do I.
Edited
Oh boy, do I have a good one here. This is from today's newspaper (Jan. 22, 2010) and it proves my point, in fact it proves a few of my points. This will be borrowed from Dear Abby's column word for word:
Dear Abby: I'm having a dispute with my husband. He thinks that you screw in a light bulb clockwise. I disagree. I say counter-clockwise. Which of us are correct? Erika/ALA.
Dear Erika: He is. You screw in a light bulb by turning it to the right, the same way you tighten the lid on a jar- which is clockwise. The mnemonic (why would you use a word such as this?) for this is: "Right is tight: left is loose."
OK, first question: Why are wives having these dumb arguments with their husbands? Why don't they just unscrew or screw in a light bulb to settle the argument instead of writing to Dear Abby? Why does Dear Abby choose to answer such inane questions when I will bet there is a letter in your pile from someone who really needs advice? (I have a theory. Some (including Dear Abby) are confused between Heloise and Dear Abby. You both have a silver streak in your hair and you each inherited your columns from your mother.)
And as usual the husband is right. Now here are possible scenarios that would have different outcomes. If one is screwing the light bulb into a socket overhead (as in on the ceiling) it is screwed in counter-clockwise and the wife is right. If said light bulb is being screwed into a table lamp it is screwed in clockwise and the husband is right. So in reality it is a draw.
But Dear Abby does not think of possibilities. There is only one answer: the husband is right. And as far as the "mnemonic" is concerned, if you want to quote verbatim, the correct wording is: righty tighty, lefty loosey. Thank you Dear Abby, you have made my day. Sorry for picking on you but I just can't help it.
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