Dixie Cafe tomorrow, Sunday

The gals have consented to come down a notch and eat at the Dixie Cafe on Sunday. It's because I talk a lot about the turkey and dressing. The Dixie Cafe is certainly what Nancy Pelosi would not get caught dead at. She'd wrinkle her stiff nose at the very thought. How come our senators ride around in their private, tax paid jets and they want us to go back to horse and buggy? Anyway, this is what I'd call the Tea Party Blue Plate Special. Real honest hard working red necks. You might even see someone pull up in a lawn mower and park it next to the cars/trucks. 18 wheelers park across the highway next to the railroad track. The Dixie Cafe is know far and wide for their trucker specials. Roast beef drowned in thick brown gravy. Chicken fried steak that overflows the plate toped with rich white gravy. Everything has gravy. It's the custom. You have to ask for it on the side so you can see the meat. Anyway, I'll order my favorite turkey and dressing. Yum.

Fancy neighbors

I went over to my 10 acres and there's a house next to the fence. When I found it's for sale (no sign out), I asked a realtor to find the listing. She sent it to me and my worthy neighbor has the house and 2 acres listed for $329,000. Ouch. There goes the neighborhood. The listing had a slide show of the inside and it's absolutely gorgeous. It could be in homes and garden. Huge floor to ceiling free standing limestone fireplace. Granite counter tops in the kitchen. Wood lined ceilings and paneling. Huge Jacuzzi tub in the master bath. And it goes on and on. She said they wanted more space and I can believe it. Poor kids had to sneak riding their 4 wheeler through my place. I am so overgrown that I can't get past the front part of trees. Waiting for the wood eating, mulching machine to call to clear it in 1/2 day. Seems like no one is calling back. Went over to visit Phyllis. She said I looked horrible, I was red in the face and sweating profusely. She got me a cold bottle of water. We talked and looked at her pet cows. Three little raccoons peeped out from a youpon bush to check on their cat food dinner that Shelley throws out about the time we were there. They only wanted us to turn our backs and 4 babies dashed for the cat food. Phyllis and John built their house years ago. Her yard is full of 2 well endowed pear trees, lots of tall oak trees and little garden spots around it. There's a pet guinea running around. A stray black and white mother cat came up with 4 kittens. They are going to spay and neuter them this week. She said their main vet wanted to charge $300/cat. They said No Way, Jose and are taking them to my vet who charges $75 or $85. I just heard that there's a vet in Brenham that charges less. Where do these vets get off with charging outlandish prices for a very simple procedure? Guess they've signed up for Obama's health care. I finally found a house that I want to build. I've been looking at it for a long time and found it on line. Can you believe it's a man who has built a barn here and one for my brother. Now, he's come up with a Barndiminium. It's a metal building that's just what I wanted....as much house as you want and the rest is barn space for the riding lawn mower and gator and whatever. They put up the metal building and you sub contract out the framer, plumber, electrician, etc. I know the layout I want but don't know how to draw it up. I enjoy the trees and sandy soil there. Would feel much better with 30 acres but that's all I could afford when I bought this. It's 40 x 60 x 12. It's become very popular for country homes for a rustic look. And functional. Apparently, it's more economical and certainly less maintenance with the metal exterior. It's suppose to with stand high winds, tornados and termites. No exterior painting. I like a log home but that's a chore to keep it up. You have to pressure wash it and it gets really dark and the logs separate. No thanks. It has a great front porch they include that's 10x60. I think a lot of country churches are going with this type of structure because the cost is less. And, there are no restrictions on country churches. I have cleaned out the under part of the kitchen sink. Boxes stacked everywhere. The pipe had a leak and I wanted to give it a good coat of paint so it looks good. So much junk one accumulates. Mike came today and began painting upstairs. We should all have to move yearly so we don't get so much stuff around. I still feel panicked . This seems to press down on my soul. Have to ask the higher person to take it away from me. Just bring me peace and calm. Maybe I can throw my worries up into the atmosphere and hope it lifts. I'm running as fast as I can.

Early morning again!

Dear Spot, Here I am again at early morning with a sinking pit in my stomach. I went to my 10 acres and found that in over 25 years it's grown up so that I couldn't walk through it. The locus trees and cedar trees have gotten so thick that there was no breeze and I couldn't walk around it. There are some bad neighbors....the kids have cut the fence and have been riding their 4 wheelers all over the place, making deep ruts where when it rains, it cuts deep into the soil. They have throwing their trash over the fence and I started throwing it back over the fence. I have to go over there and ask them to pick up their trash and fix the fence. I hate to be a bad neighbor but they are the ones who have taken the liberty of being bad first. I'll have to have a guy come in and clear out the underbrush so that I can get a spot to build a house on. Everything is being slowed down. Even the barn I had on it has fallen down. The electric temporary pole is gone so I'll have to dig up the one I have here and put it over there. They cost about $500 or more now. There is a bumper crop of cedar trees. I love them but they block all the breeze. The guy who runs a bulldozer/shredder has a good machine that mulches everything in it's path and leaves only a ground covering of pulp. That's much better than brush piles. There are a lot of nice trees on the place. I'll put the house just inside the tree line. I don't want to see the neighbor's back side of their barns, so I'll leave a cedar break to block the view of that. Then I have to drill a water well...and get a builder. I feel overwhelmed. I am going to have the painter come out tomorrow and start painting upstairs to get that ready. I'll have boxes and start packing ....I was going to move storage sheds in right now and have a place to put things but can't do that until they can get up to the back of the property without running over junk the neighbors have thrown over the fence and thorns from locus trees. Sinking pit in my stomach. And, I'm trying to get the place picked up here....two things at once is too much on a 74 year old person. Just too much. I'll just have to start clearing one shelf at a time...some of the stuff like odds and ends of drinking cups, I never use. So, they will go to good will. Garage sales bring strange bed fellows around out in the country. I imagine they wouldn't bring too much anyway...$1 for a whole box. Think I'll have a cup of coffee. That will sooth the aching heart and soul. Life is really strange. We think someone loves us and then someone comes along to put undue influence on them and we are in the path of mulching. We're left with lots of IF'S. What if I'd stayed in my old job and just gotten a nice retirement check and my own security blanket so that I would be independent. You think a husband loves you and you build a nice home and security. Then, suddenly, he finds a new squeeze and you're kicked out by the new squeeze and unceremoniously dropped on whatever doorstep you can find. Security is an illusion. Life appears to be an illusion. What if God had made it so that we stayed 30 forever until we were ready to age. But, the world would really overpopulate. Maybe in the after life, we stay young forever. That's the concept that people get from the after world. We regress in our age when we get over there and become 30 again, healthy, secure and , I suppose, happy. Those who are young when they die, supposedly progress to age 30. We never age over there. But, since we don't have that guarantee, people are reluctant to die. I think fear of dying is the fear of pain. Fear of the unknown. Coffee time.

My happiness is fleeting...

I feel like I'm in the debts of an edge into free falling into oblivion. Where has life gone and why is it so futurless? It was happy one moment and now, it's unhappy. I fight daily to keep an even kiel. I try to think it will be okay but then this wave of terror creeps into my psyche and I'm on the down path to oblivion. Betrayal. Greed. Psychological warfare. Pseudo . Hang my head. Sad.

Three Bad Nights

Usually, when a senior citizen can't sleep, it's because he/she has been napping all day long. I guess my lack of sleep is from worry. I worry that I will be left penniless. I want to go spit on my husbands grave for being such a vengeful person for no reason at all. If there isn't any reason, it's because of some quirky personality that has a serious character flaw. When he was on his death bed, he met in private with the lawyer to fix his will, etc. After the lawyer left, he hissed through baited breath "Well, I guess you're satisfied now." His character was like a bad tempered rattlesnake. Damn bastard. What mentality looks at life like everything and everyone is out for their money or whatever. His mother was the same way. She counted every penny and piece of silver ware. She counted every fork , knife and spoon after her bridge group left. She was raised very poor and went through the depression. She and her husband worked hard in various businesses and later in life, she exhibited Scorpio tendencies with a hatred and suspicion toward everyone. He appeared to be a soft spoken and very sweet person. I guess my husband was mad because he thought I'd gotten a penny and that to him, was a penny too much. If I'd known how it would have all turned out, I would have kept on working earning my own money and building my own life so that I would have had security. Now, at 74, I'm old, not physically fit and certainly, I don't feel one bit secure. I'm going to have to find a job in order to live in the comfort of something other than medicare. I've been accepted into a job setting and am nervous about starting all over with only the shirt on my back. I can't sleep at night from worry and I seem to have a pit in the bottom of my stomach all the time. Damn him. I didn't do anything to deserve this, he was just a pathetic specimen of a person . We never know how life is going to turn out. I look at these gorgeous women who lounge all over the world without a care. Some rely on their trust funds and others on their looks. Looks are quickly gone and the trust funds can dry up eventually. They should have taken life more seriously. It's not fun to be 74 and feel betrayed by the one who was suppose to love you. Oh, my heart hurts, my stomach churns and I feel like I'm going mad. Will it every stop? I feel broken.

Thanks...thanks...

Many thanks to my daughter V who took me to the doctor's and suffered getting up at 5am to get to the day surgery which took place at 9am. She is usually allergic to mornings but graciously got up without hesitation. The day surgery waiting room and building was absolutely freezing. I got a warm blanket and then passed it to V. Later, when we came home, my son-in-law took over and was a very good nurse. Thanks to both of them. My other daughter came from Houston on Saturday and then V and her husband left. Thanks to everyone. It means a lot.

Chicken Today Feathers Tomorrow

It's been such a long time since I've posted anything. Lots has happened since then. I've had arthroscopic surgery on my left knee. The surgery was a breeze after much trepidation. I guess everyone thinks they will die during surgery. I did. So, I had to play mind games. One was to imagine myself doing things after the surgery, proceeding with life as usual. So, I was relieved when I woke up in recovery. I was in there with about 20 other recovering day surgery patients in different stages of wakefulness. I heard my anesthetist say that he felt horrible like he was coming down with a strep throat. He said he was called in because they were short handed. That was certainly not reassuring and I quickly took Vit. C when I got home. Eleven days out, I have not come down with anything resembling a serious cold.

Before the surgery, everyone I asked who had the surgery, said they did very well. Now, two people have said it didn't help them at all.

Who to believe?

I am still limping and in pain with the knee. I usually don't need a crutch around the house except in the middle of the night to make a dash for the potty. That's because of a previous stroke in 03, balance is an issue in the dark. So, the crutch helps to balance and give me a sense of equilibrium. I find that I need a crutch when I have to walk longer distances like into SAM'S. One time, I thought I wouldn't make it back to the car. So, since then, I use the crutch and just put it in the basket but I can take the strain off the knee.

Thursday, I got back for a post op visit. I already took the stitches out because they were poking me and digging into the skin. Nothing red or inflamed. All has healed and is progressing. I just don't know when the pain will go away. Will it ever? A continuing saga.

The doctor said he shaved off the jagged edges of the arthritic bone and removed some of the stray cartilage. If this doesn't work, then there will have to be a knee replacement. Ouch! Now, I do know that after the initial shock wears off, this usually does the trick.

Ah, but the agony.

Stay tuned for the doctor's visit.

Adoptions and mystery

By the time I was 2 months old, I had two names. Mary Elizabeth C and Sandra J.

I didn't know the first name until I was in my 40's. Sandra J was my adopted name.

Growing up, I'd try to imagine where I came from. My usual imagination was that they were royalty and had to flee from their home country. So, I was placed with adoptive parents to hide my identity so I wouldn't be murdered. Maybe that's where my love of mystery novels comes from.

I read that the famous author James Michener was left on a door step, he never knew his actual birthday nor anything about his biological parents. Does that explain why he wrote long sagas about generations? He was trying to find his own roots.

Sometimes, I imagined I was the daughter of a movie star. As I got older, I imagined my dad was my real dad and he'd had me through an affair. I tried to get information from relatives but no one could help me. It was really awkward trying to pry out information about my dad's imagined affair. He had a laundry route during the war and took clean clothes to the houses out in the country and picked up dirty laundry. I'm sure he visited and stopped for lunch or coffee. Daddy was always a talker and quite handsome in his youth. It was easy to imagine an affair especially since mother was not my favorite type of person.

Through the years, I became involved with adoption services. Through the job, I found a judge in Austin who would open adoption records. I wrote to him and he ordered the Bureau of Birth Records to open the sealed file.

I couldn't wait to get it in the mail and promptly drove over to Austin. A young clerk probably 10 years younger than me looked at the judges letter in my hand and grudgingly brought out a large envelope that was sealed with red wax on the back. She opened it and said I'd better not lose the copies or they'd not open the envelope again.

I thought that was rather snippy. The rudeness couldn't erase my excitement to see my real name. I had been named Mary Elizabeth C. It had the name of my mother but no name for a father. It had my adoption papers and the name of the town my mother was from.

Let's say the name was Gobbler. I was amused and said "I'm a Gobblerite!" I sat down in disbelief that I actually knew my real name. My birth name. I was by myself but savored the moment like I'd found a pot of gold.

Later, my brother (adopted) wrote to the judge and had his records opened. I helped him find his mother and family.

I called the first C in the Gobbler phone book. There were several names but I wrote to one and hoped I'd picked the right one. It was some time before I got a reply. I'd picked a distance elderly cousin who was in a nursing home but her daughter knew immediately who I was and called my mother who lived in another state by then. She wrote that she was contacting my mother and would get back to me.

The ending/beginning was when I met my mother and brother and sister and their families. We have had a good relationship and I think that it would have been such a waste of a life never to have known my sister and brother and families.

My mother has since passed away. But, we had a great relationship and I am thankful to the Austin judge who had the courage to open the records.

Genetics is a powerful force in families. My mother and I shared many similarities. We both were/are pickle fanatics. Mom even ate pickles for breakfast. She made delicious pickles and canned them as sweet pickles or dill pickles.

I do not have her green thumb. Mine is a brown thumb from all the plants who have had the misfortune to darken my door. We were both athletic and were active in sports. We looked enough alike to be sisters.

A lot of adopted kids miss not looking like someone. We may not resemble our adopted families at all. I remember as an adoption worker, we'd try to match hair and eye colors between the adopted child and adoptive parents.

Sometimes, it's obvious about an adopted child's love of education. You often find a child that doesn't like school and his/her biological parents didn't like school either.

Addictions are passed on from parents to child.

I had a love of horses from an early age and found that my biological father raised quarter horses on his ranch.

Open adoptions should be practiced. It isn't natural not to know your biological family and promotes almost a schizophrenic personality split between the biological and adopted personalities. The unknown of a person's life is far worse than not knowing what happened. Also, as health knowledge evolves, it's important to know one's genetic inheritance for future health problems.

When I was younger, a doctor took a blood sample and got all excited because he thought I was anemic (ie: leukemia). I didn't feel bad but he still put me on vitamins with iron. I felt so bad taking them that I stopped and immediately felt better. Years later, I found that I had Thalesemia, an inherited blood disorder that had been passed down in the family. Without family history, it would have been a rare diagnosis and I wouldn't have known what I had.

Now, good or bad, I know my families medical history.

What an absolute relief.

Death and Dying

I just got an email from my friend Sally. She is in Houston with her daughter. This is a difficult time because the daughter's 48 year old husband is dying of cancer and has only hours or a few days to live. He's being moved to a hospice today. His two children are still in high school and they've had to grow up quick. They have stepped up to the bat and have helped take care of him and their mother.

Sally and her husband just finished taking care of her "Aunt" Betty....who was sick for over a year with cancer. Do death's really run in 3's? I've always heard it. It's probably just a wife's tale. Just this week, Sally's brother's son's wife passed away suddenly of a young age. She was well one day and gone the next. Her 3 children are in elementary and in high school. They had no warning their mother was sick and no time to prepare or say goodbye. I'm sure, had their mother known, she would have talked about life and her hopes and dreams for their future. She won't be here for their graduation , their weddings or to see the grandchildren as they come along.

Which makes us aware that life is never a given. Death is just as much a part of life as birth. One we celebrate and one we mourn. The older you get the more deaths you experience. In some, it's a tragic death and in others it's just a normal passing from one existence to another.

I remember a science lab. The professor was changing a liquid into a gas visible by a blue color. As the liquid bubbled and turned into a blue vapor, I had a pivotal moment. We may be in the physical body one day but turn into another element the next. We are never really gone but continue to change into different molecules.

Might our molecules continually change or compress into different combinations? Can we change them ourselves through our cellular connection? Is there a cosmic consciousness?

My dad was so afraid of dying that he would have nightmares and scream during the night. As a child, I heard his cries through the bedroom walls. There was no one to comfort me and I felt so tiny huddled under the covers.

No wonder I carried a fear of death that was profound for most of my life. Nothing in the bible ever calmed my fears. The after life was always conditional. If you didn't believe in Jesus, you were doomed to hell. I thought of all the poor souls that were born before Jesus and down in hell because of their birth dates. I thought of all the other people on earth who were of other religions. They always seemed nice to me and I couldn't understand why they would be in hell. It was a very confusing time and frightful.

Then, I came upon psychics who proposed to have contact with those who had passed over. For me, it all came together. They try to contact us but usually we are so afraid that we deny the incident or refuse to acknowledge they have tried to contact us. I remember when Marvin died. It was several days afterwards that the phone in our bedroom where he had died began to ring. The hairs on my arms stood up. The phone was disconnected there. Yet, it was ringing.

I firmly believe that he was just trying to keep in touch. I have no proof but there have been many other contacts from friends and family who have passed away over the years.

RL, who works for me, was at his mother's bed side when she died. She'd suffered from diabetes for years and had been on dialysis. Finally, she refused to take it any more. As she lay dying, all the family was around her. RL said he heard a lot of birds chirping and asked everyone if they heard them. They didn't. When the nurse came in, she said RL's mother had passed away. RL told her about the birds and she said, "We'll put that down as the time of death."

When my dad died, he sat up suddenly in his hospital bed and opened his arms as if he saw something. He said "Jesus, Jesus, take me!" And, then he died.

I am glad that my dad didn't die alone. He wasn't afraid any more.

When my mother was getting close to the end of her life, she told me that Momma came to visit her. She was so glad her mother was there. She was in her right mind, not on any medication. Just the simple awe of her mother being there. Granny had been dead for years but I firmly believe that she came to take her daughter home. Mother died a few days later.

A longer life gives us the advantage of experience if we accept it at face value and don't try to analyze it to death. No pun intended.

Golden Years Depression?

I find myself getting into a deep depression over the ravages of advancing age. Mostly, it's over the lack of mobility, agility and stamina. There was a time several years back that it was trying to take over my life. I think I have heard that this is common in the elderly. Depression can be from isolation. I sometimes feel like I am obviously old and that may be repulsive to others. I feel that we might belong in an old folks home where we won't offend anyone if we drool or drop our food. That's why I've considered getting a face lift to become more socially presentable. Then I see people who've had unsuccessful face lifts and don't want that to happen.

One way to combat depression for me is to set goals. These can be short range or long range. For some time, I've begun to get active in political Tea Parties. I have a passion to see America return to the way I knew it years back. This current presidency of Barack Obama has unleashed a need to try to lend a hand in correcting what he is destroying through the Democratic majority in congress and in the house and through his Czars. I am only one person but together with others, I think we can turn things around. For years, the ACLU has eroded our religious freedoms or symbols of our Christian faith. Madeleine O'Hara, with her atheists stance, did the initial damage through destroying prayer in schools and school functions. I think that children should be exposed to a Christian religion if they are not exposed to it at home. A simple prayer will not hurt any child. Hopefully, it will give them a foundation for behavior that they have not gotten at home. For those who don't want to participate, they can attend another class. The ACLU is systematically destroying Christian symbols in the government offices. They bring suits and are awarded sums of money that they then turn around and use for more suites. So, we can see a long procession of destroying American ideals and what's been great about America.

Public education has been infiltrated over years by a socialists ideology that threatens American democracy. Students are turning away from America, turning away from the American flag and the Pledge of Allegiance. The terms "greed" and "evil" are symbolizing the American idea of democracy. After World War II, Hollywood showed a positive American soldier coming home from war. They depicted soldiers being greeted and welcomed home.

Since the Viet Nam war, the press and TV commentators were so negative against the war and solders that they were spit on by the public, causing more mental distress on the solders than almost the war itself. After Jane Fonda's obvious anti-war activities caused many soldiers to be tortured and killed, the press has been more cautious in their slanderous approach toward the soldiers and their ire has turned toward the government (mostly Republican). When George Bush was president, there was a daily press release of the soldiers killed in Iraq. With Barrack Obama as president, you NEVER see anything about the soldiers that are still dying in combat. He has not brought anyone back home nor stopped the wars.

So, how do we stop the inequality of the press, the public school system and the Hollywood liberal actors and producers?

There is a public, a citizen who has known for years that what was depicted in the news and newspapers was not what they thought. I had long scratched my head at what the newspapers reported, wondering if I was crazy or that I was the ONLY one who thought as I did. Then, Rush Limbaugh came onto the scene. He was the voice of reason. He was the voice that echoed what I had felt and thought all those years. He was the one who put a voice to it, who found people gathering around the radio in a release of emotions to finally find someone who thought like they did. The audience expanded and gradually you encountered more and more people who thought like you did.

Now, we have a wonderful FOX TV station and 24 hour programming. It's the ONLY station that explains both sides of the issue. The other stations still insist on presenting only their side of a situation. It's never more obvious than the Al Gore man made Global Warming misconception.

When you get to be 74, you have been around long enough to logically know that weather cycles. I have gone through the dust bowl, good rain years and bad rain years. I've gone through droughts and through monsoon years. Weather cycles.

But, our local school system would not present both sides so that the students could judge for themselves. They would only present the Al Gore's An Inconvenient Truth. Most of it has been shown to be a lie. They use the fear tactics and depict poor baby polar bears dying. There was a documentary put out in England to rebut Gore's "documentary". The local school systems would not allow it to be shown. Gore's lies have become a means for taxation and a life style that puts us back into the dark ages. There will be famine and disease because of the lies and the radical groups that cling to it.

For instance, the EPA wanted to put a tax on cattle because they produce a methane gas from their digestion system. A tax on cattle, "to reduce atmospheric methane" would be devastating to the little farmer. The big conglomerate cattle producers have to pay taxes at a much smaller ratio than the independent, local ranchers. If they'd passed their National Animal Identification program, the program would have run every small independent person who just raises cattle or animals for a little extra income to go out of business. Only the big conglomerates would have stayed in business. For instance, they would have had to identify only 1 chicken per hundred. The little farmer would have had to identify every chicken. It would have been the same inequality with a cattle methane tax.

If the big conglomerates take over, there will be a big spike in grocery prices. Because of the global warming spoof, there already has been a big increase on energy such as gasoline and diesel. This sends the prices sky rocketing for groceries and every day needs.

Common sense has to be brought to the fore front. We cannot let the big governments, the international community or the big conglomerates run our lives to the extent that people cannot exist or survive. People must get active in their government. They must run for office. They must run for office to correct the wrongs being done. We cannot let career politicians who no longer care or can identify with those who have made this country great continue to pass laws and legislation that benefit only a privileged few .

There is a movement known as GOOOH that is trying to do this very thing. They want to get people to run for office who will promise to abide by the constitution and to uphold the constitution. If they fail to do this, they have to step down from office. It's easy to become active if you are a GOOOH candidate. Take a look at them and join.

Arm signals for safety's sake

I remember driving my grandmother's 1935 Ford car. It had neat window shades that you could pull up and down. It always seemed to smell musty. But, as I drive today, I am continually amazed at the lack of using turn signals. It's so easy to use. You push the signal up or down to turn left or right. It's so simple and easy. It is a safety feature that lets you know what the driver is planning. You aren't a mind reader so it would surely help if you knew if he was turning and which way. I grew up having to roll down the window and stick my arm out to signal my intentions. You stuck your arm up if you were turning right. If you made a left hand turn, you stuck your arm straight out. To signal a stop, you let your arm drop down. We had to do this in rain, sleet or snow. The rain or snow would pelt us in the face. Things are so easy now. With speeds and traffic increasing, it just takes a little courtesy to turn your signals on. We aren't mind readers. For your safety and mine, please use your turn signals.

Disappointment

I was so excited about going to Tempe, Arizona with the Dallas Tea Party to support Arizona in their fight against illegal immigration.

But the bus trip was cancelled right now. It was because out of 75 people, only 17 signed up. But, the email address that was given a Yahoo address and the notification was another server. The phone number was either busy or it didn't answer. People couldn't ask questions.

When you went to pay, it looked like you needed Pay Pal. Actually, Pay Pal billed you but you could use a regular credit card.

What a disappointment. I was really looking forward to the trip.

I think Arizona is getting a bum rap. Everyone that values their country should stand up and support Arizona.

Whoops snake moment

There is a time in ones life when he/she encounters a member of the reptilian group.

I have had many such encounters but each one is always a BIG surprise.

The other night was no exception.

My dog, otherwise known as Dog, jumped off the bed in a frantic need to go outside. It was 4 am and I did not appreciate the sudden movement. However, I had to jump up too or suffer the consequences.

I turned on the porch light, opened the screen door and stepped outside with Dog. When I turned around to close the door, there HE was. He was hugging the door frame, half way between passing the door and half way between going back into the grass.

The snake was coiled back, his head and neck a distinctive S shape. The tongue flicked in and out in demonic overtones.

Normally, I like to see what stage of danger a snake might be but I didn't have my glasses on. I usually get close enough to see if they have a slit or a round eye/iris. Without my glasses, it was impossible to tell. There was no rattle and it was not a rattle snake. I have never seen one on the ranch. I have seen snakes imitate a rattle snake by vigorously shaking their tails among leaves or grass. We do have water moccasins and copper heads. Both can deliver a wicked bite.

This snake was neither. It was about 2 feet long, of a grayish color with a yellow stripe running the length of it's body. No poisonous snake that I knew of. I noticed that it had a thin neck with wide jaws on the head. That IS a concern. Possible venom glands.

We stood there looking at each other.

The snake was thinking and I was looking for something to shoo it away. I only had a short rebar of about 18". That was way too short. There were decorative rocks but the snake was next to the brick wall and door. There was no way to hit the snake without doing major damage to the house.

Our stand off seemed endless. I was barefoot and couldn't go across the grass to the back door. This season of the year, we have wicked grass burs in the lawn. Must I stay here all night while one of us figures out what to do?

I raised my arms and yelled "Shoo!"

I know that snakes don't have ears or can't hear but it made me feel good.

The snake only pulled his head further back, looking at me all the time. He appeared to be rather underweight which was probably why he was hunting. When a snake is underweight, his millions of ribs protrude against the skin and he has a drawn appearance.

I could reach the door and open it but I ran the chance of the snake going inside the house which was a definite NO.

Dog was no help at all. He ignored the snake completely and almost stepped on it several times.

Finally, the snake abandoned his travel and turned away from the door. Although he was no where out of the possibility of getting into the house, I had to chance it.

I got Dog near the door, opened it and quickly stepped over the snake and hurled myself into the house. With an anxious look backward, I saw that the snake wasn't following me.

After a long hot cup of coffee, I passed the rest of the night sitting up.

Dog, of course, went right back to sleep. So much for our furry protective friends.

Young idealistic journalist at work long ago!

Sometimes, I get to thinking of things that happened long ago. And, far away.

When you're 70+, that's easy to do.

I was a student at Sam Houston State University (that's what it used to be called) after graduating from Marlin High School in 1954. I had a scholarship in the band and played a brand new Selma saxaphone. When I got to school and found out they got up at 6 am to practice, well, I switched over to journalism. Back then it was a noble profession, unbiased and the young reporters always presented a news story fairly.

Sounds like fiction now.

Dan Rather was a graduate student and I, the undergrad, had a class with him. He was terrible boring and I think I made a C. He didn't get much more interesting as he got older and went on to reporting for television.

I was on the Houstonion staff and wrote a lot of articles. However a friend of mine, Lavonne (who knows has altzheimers and doesn't know me or anyone) was an artist and wanted to go down to Mexico City College between Mexico City and Cuernavaca, Mexico for the summer. We took our first train ride , catching it from Hearne, Texas. At the border, we changed to a sleeper car and rolled into Mexico City. The college was nestled on the side of a mountain with the class rooms overlooking beautiful scenery seldom seen in Texas.

Lavonne spent the summer painting and I was on the staff of the college newspaper. The name of the paper escapes me completely now. Well, what's new?

When the summer ended, I was offered a tuition and came back the following summer and graduated from there. Our days were passed in the press room. Bob S. was managing editor, I think. Bob was impressive with his stock of curly hair, a prominent jaw line and ever present pipe. I don't think he smoked it, but just dangled it from his mouth. We would go out and write our stories, then set them to type and pull all nighters pasting the stories and pictures to the page layout. We wrote the head lines and got it ready to send to the printers as soon as it was finished. Brita Bowen was our professor and editor in chief. She was tall and gray headed but very kind.

That was in the late 50's. I was much younger then and enjoyed a wild extra curricular activity. Lavonne was very religious at that time and had become friends with a young girl who had a dubious profession. She was slender, blonde and very pretty. Since we couldn't work in Mexico, she earned her money the old fashioned way.

Lavonne wanted to save her soul and we went with her to the Acapulco home of the Mexican presidents home. Miquel Alleman's handsome young son was there along with Nicky Hilton. Lavonne and I stayed in a separate bungalow on the property but our blonde friend went up to the main house.

Needless to say we didn't convert our friend but it was an introduction to the life style of the rich and famous. I later was an extra in The Sun Also Rises with Ava Gardner and Lana Turner. The pay was good since it was an American company and the atmosphere was exciting for a young Texas girl.

I took acting lessons with the famous director and acting coach Seki Sano.

Lavonne came home to finish school at Baylor but I got my degree from Mexico City College.

I always wondered what happened to Bob S. With the help of my computer genius daughter, she found Bob on facebook and he's returned to Mexico where he lives to this day.

He still has that scholarly air about him and that thick head of hair. Hair is important to me. Now, the hair is peppered with whisps of gray but still wavy and full. He still writes and has published several books and lots of magazine articles.

When you reach your 70's and many of your friends are no longer on this earth, it's nice to reconnect with friends from the past.

When we would take a break at the coffee shop, we'd order a slice of pie and Bob would eat the filling and I loved the crust. Funny, the things you remember.

Hi Bob, really nice to visit with you again. It's been fun catching up. Excuse my

"rabid" political views but it's fun to express them. You can yell at me, too.

Onward Tea Party Soldiers

There is in me a certain pride that I am doing what others fear.

I have signed up to go to Arizona with the Dallas Tea Party group to show support for Arizona in their stance on illegal immigrants. Many of my friends are afraid to get involved in politics. Many are involved and of like mind.

I see the wreckage that illegal immigrants are posing. We run into it daily. Students at the high school complain about the special treatment the illegal students have. They have their own halls and classrooms. They have Spanish speaking teachers and text books in Spanish. They don't pay taxes but expect to receive everything that American tax paying parents students get.

In the super markets, illegal immigrants come in pushing and shoving little old ladies like myself aside. Lately, at the Farm Patch, a male worker there made a bee line for me as if to push me down. I was pushing a cart and the wheels had swung it to the veggie bins. I couldn't move it and he was bent on coming between the cart and the bins. He was looking me straight in the eye as if he was challenging me to do something. Finally, I said in Spanish, "I can't move the d---- thing! What do you want?" He quickly lowered his eyes and said in English, "That's alright." Then, he pushed the basket aside while he went through.

I had my lawn mower and Gator fixed by a long time friend. He has 8 chicken houses and works legal Mexicans. I told him I was going to Arizona to support them. He said he didn't support them because Mexicans were taking jobs that American's won't take. Of course they are, American companies are exploiting Mexicans and getting them at slave labor wages. Do you think Sanderson Farms comes down in their prices of chickens? No.

I promptly said they are coming here, having a kid, and immediately getting on our welfare system. They get free medical and free schooling. We are not a give away country even though our current government seems to think so. Illegal immigrants represent slave labor for big companies. Those big companies are contributing big campaign money to the crooked politicians in office. Hence, they want them to be legalized. The illegals are now submitting contracting bids against American companies in small towns. They are underbidding them and getting the jobs from legal American companies. Honest American companies that pay decent wages to American workers. American workers, not illegal immigrants.

Hell yes, I'm mad. Hell yes, I'm going to Arizona with pride toward the governor and her fellow Arizonians. Long live Arizona. And, God help us all who are having to defend our countrymen from an illegitimate , illegal President and his simple minded surrounding press and czars and senators and representatives.

I'll wager you won't see a sign of our protest on CNN or NBC or on the pages of your local newspapers. It will be as if we are ghosts in the night. They will only mention us when they can call us terrorists, Nazi's and terrorists. Yeah, like our little old 74-year-old selves are terrorists. Take a look in your mirror, Mr. President, you are the terrorists. Mr. Reid and Ms. Pelosi, you are the terrorists.

We the people will take back our country. And, if the Republicans who are put in office fail to live up to the best interests of the country, then you have to go too.

Ranch Chores

It's been a busy day. Ranch living may look effortless but there's always plenty of work to do.

I selected a week when my daughter would be here to help throw hay and feed on the truck since Larry came to pick up the Gator and the lawn mower. Larry was originally my feed man, then he sold his feed store and became my lawn and garden fixer upper. He had a shop in Bryan, Texas.

Some good things aren't meant to be and he moved his shop out to his house in the country. He still kept the business by picking up 3 wheelers, mowers, etc. He said they weren't bothered by people just stopping by the shop in town to talk. They couldn't get their work done and, rather than being rude, he just moved his shop.

His shop was called We Fix It .

So, today he came and picked up my Gator which I feed from and my lawn mower to give both a tune up, greasing and blade sharpening. His daughter is studying and finishing up as a finance major at the Mays school at TAMU. My daughter Virginia also graduated from there several years back with a Masters in Finance.

He asked a lot of questions about the field since it was foreign to him. He got a lot of good information about job opportunities and future clubs to belong to at TAMU. It's really amazing the job openings available even in this economy that pay extra good wages. Why would anyone pay a fortune for a 4 year college to study English or mathematics. Their job scope seems to limited to teaching.

Coming from a small town and being a female, it was always understood that women became teachers and men could become lawyers or doctors. To buck the norm was to upset tradition. I always wanted to become a lawyer but my mother wouldn't have any of it. Even now, at 70+, I still would have wanted to be a lawyer. Of course, they have such a horrible, money grubbing reputation but my ideas of a lawyer then were lofty and I saw them as a benevolent Perry Mason.

Even in this horrible economy and uncertainty of the country, there are surprisingly well paying jobs in the investment or banking sector. Consulting is also a thriving business despite the downturn in the economy. Some layoffs have happened and business may have slowed but there's plenty of opportunities and one has to be aware of the market.

I find myself completely perplexed in today's world. We never heard of the myriad of job opportunities. Coming from a little town of under 5,000 people, all we knew was nursing and teaching and secretarial jobs. You could enter those areas for a "secure" future.

Where do you find out about them? I believe it's in exposure and maybe a lot of luck. My friend's daughter is studying nuclear medicine? She met a man who was in that field while in high school. She began to study the field when she left high school and now is doing an internship in her freshman year of college. She continues to love the field and is hoping to start at a salary of over $100,000.

Why am I so focused on salaries? Well, it's kinda like a starving kid is thinking about nothing but food or water. With the downturn in dividends from stocks and bonds and with no other conceivable income in sight, there's an awe of these opportunities which will never come my way because of lack of "retraining" or age restriction.

My first field was journalism. It was an idealistic profession. Back then, it wasn't a political statement but just plain old interviewing and reporting events as they took place. What an ideal time.

I could use my photography skills. Today, it's all digital. So, I'd have to learn a whole new system. We used to spend days on a page layout of copy and photographs and headlines. Type setting was made with metal letters or numbers. Now, you do a computer layout and the type settings and columns are all arranged on a word program.

That's progress. We must adapt or be run out of our field. Like a warrior with a spear would have to adapt to a gun for hunting or defense.

Where do the older folks go? Can we change? I think I've come a long way but just when I'm about to compliment myself, up comes something really new. Some (lots of it), I don't even know what it is. IPad, iPhone, Blue Tooth, etc...

Stop the world, I want to get off.

Back to the days where there was a prince and princess and they lived happily ever after. Simple days.

"Goodnight sweet prince! Goodnight."

Storm Birds

I always anticipate the "storm birds" arrival. Actually they are barn swallows that apparently love the company of us mortals. This year they arrived in March and began a frantic scramble to build their mud nests.

My neighbors are a little more anal. They don't like them because they leave a pile of bird guano under the nest usually on the patio. They frantically go outside and knock down the patches of mud as the birds come back and back until one or the other gives up.

I leave their nests up from year to year. They happily reclaim their old nests and gather horse hair and twigs to spruce it up. Then, they begin to lay eggs. They swoop and play acrobatic maneuvers that would put seasoned fighter pilots to shame.

Once hatched, the swallow pair sets up an erratic feeding schedule. Off they go into the surrounding yard and pasture and bring back juicy bits of bugs. I suppose that's what they bring back. I have never seen what ever their pablum diet is.

One after another adult bird constantly is coming in for a landing on the nest. The baby birds can be seen opening their mouths in anticipation. The feeding pair keep this up all day long until night time falls and then the nest and all activity ceases.

One side of the nest is attached to the board. The nest is rounded and all the birds that occupy the nest at night time, face inward and their tails hang out over the nest. Hence, their droppings fall to the ground and not into the nest.

As the birds grow in size, they perch on the edge of the nest, waiting for their daily feedings. They open their little beaks wide. They are colorful, little black and yellow lined beaks like perfectly applied lipstick.

Sitting beside the sliding glass door, I can almost constantly watch their flight. Dipping and diving in the yard and toward the nest, they display acrobatic accomplishments that causes you to marvel.

Some years, they can raise 3 sets of eggs/baby birds before they leave for parts unknown.

Like in all high risk sports, they sometimes crash into the sliding glass door and land against it with a loud thud. Survival depends on how hard they hit the door and if there's a cat sitting patiently underneath.

Some times a baby bird tries to launch itself too soon and will find itself on the ground without protection from the cats or the elements. Past efforts to put the bird back into the nest have always failed. The bird either flies back out into the same predicament or the mother doesn't come back to feed it.

In the past, I've tried to feed baby birds but we aren't all cut out for everything. Bird feeding is not in my list of skills. Once you raise them and you think they should be on their own, they don't see it that way and can't survive without your help.

Observing the swallows, I noticed that the baby birds even if they are independent and flying well, still wait for their parents to feed them. They may be sitting on the fence out in the pasture and the parents gather insects and go feed them wherever they are.

It reminds me of human children. They act and sound like they are ready to leave the nest but they still need lots of attention in order to survive.

When it gets toward fall, I always dread my feathered friends departure. Somehow I like to think that the same ones return the next year and remember me fondly.

I sure remember them.

Arizona bound!

I'm joining fellow Tea Partiers to Tempe, Arizona on the Memorial Day weekend to support Arizona's stand against illegal immigration.

I am trying to figure out what to wear. Right now, I'm thinking of a t shirt that reads:

Do You Know Who I Am?

1. I swam the Rio Grande

2. I had a baby here.

3. I get free medical.

4. I get welfare and medicaid.

5. I send money orders home.

6. I don't speak English.

7. I don't pay taxes or social security.

8. I get paid in cash.

9. My kids get American education in Spanish.

10. I get drunk and go to jail.

I sell drugs and go to prison.

11. If I don't get to stay here I'll wage war.

First Guess Doesn't Count.

Just trying to find an appropriate T shirt to express my 5th amendment rights. We still have rights? Right? Those of us who were born here after we came here legally and settled this country. Those of us who pay taxes and our ancestors paid taxes.

My Grandmother Pearl actually refused social security when she went to a nursing home because she didn't think it was patriotic to take money from the government.

How times change!

Someone in the White House is determined to make 13 million illegals legal before November, 2010. Every day they push more and more destructive legislature that is geared toward ruining America. They are trying to turn Mexico, America and Canada into a North American Union. From the Bushes, to Obama to the other power hungry, ego centric money grubbing sanctimonious politicians and old world money trust funders.

It makes sense why they don't try to stop the tide from Mexico. There's a plan. There's a plan to destroy America. We must send letters, call, send emails and let the politicians know how we feel. While we still have the right, we must vote them out.

Once we are the North American Union, there will no longer be votes but appointments to elect their own crooked kind.

America must become a God loving country, a country proud of our accomplishments, a country that lets every man achieve to the best of his ability, a country that strives to let the individual accomplish great heights, a country where everyone pulls his/her own weight.

No more welfare except to the truly needy. No more bloated government that sucks the blood out of the country. We must fight to turn the country around and head it again in the direction our founders envisioned it.

Caldwell Conservatives and Noble Wise

There was a time not too long ago that I felt I had nothing to live for. I searched for a meaning in life. At 74 and in natural aging health, life seemed empty. I felt that I hadn't used my life wisely or in a useful manner. All the dreams of becoming a sultry singer, an actress, a world renowned writer became meaningless unaccomplished folly.

Then came Obama and the liberals. My America was in jeopardy. My America was being taken over by idiotic career politician morons.

The assault became personal when the USDA wanted to step into every ranchers business by requiring a National Animal Registration. I've kept close contact with my friend in Ireland. They've had it for years because they felt they couldn't refuse the pressure and didn't have the muscle to opt out of it. Now Ireland has a VAT tax and it's crushing their spirit. My Irish friend says sadly "What can we do?" It's a UN thing. Pure and Simple.

Americans who settled this country came over to escape the taxation of England, the snobbery of the aristocracy and to forge a new life on the new frontier.

Now, the tentacles are once again reaching over here to once again impose taxes, tariffs and rules and regulations when they have no right.

Obama, who I believe hates America and all it stands for, and his liberal senators and representatives are pressing forward to wreck the American economy. He is a part of the Tri-lateral Commission along with many or most of the political power machine in Washington to force America into a European Union where we will have no vote over anything. It's a total dictatorial world government that is being hatched under our very noses to control the world. It's Hitler on steroids.

Now, I'm mad. I love America. I'm mad at the politicians who already act as if they don't care about elections. I'm mad because they want to suck every last penny out of us and spread it to themselves.

The ultimate power struggle is on. They believe we are nothing but peons to serve their purpose. They have shown it in their pushing through of the health care system. Complete disregard for what the public thinks. They pushed it through for control and money. It puts money into their friends and cooperates pockets.

There is no such thing of "spreading the wealth" because it simply translates "spread the wealth to my friends". The poor were never a part of this equation. There is no humanitarian mission. They are imposing every tax known to the UN and will be sending our tax dollars to support the UN agenda of taking over the world.

We are seeing the Cap and Tax, the VAT and God knows what else. The EPA has sprouted tentacles even an octopus would envy. The assault doesn't give up. It's relentless since Obama got into office. The taxes will cripple this nation.

Instead of bringing America to it's knees, we need to have an attitude adjustment with the career politicians and power hungry generational trust fund babies.

I have a goal now. As long as I can, I will send protest letters, emails, belong to Tea Parties, participate in demonstrations and protests. We have already fought the animal identification off but we are leery. The cow gas tax was not a laughing matter. If they had every single animal in American tagged, it would just be a small step to tax the ranchers on methane tax. Gimme a break! Back off!

The Tri-lateral Commission secret society members want to limit world populations. They want to return the world to it's former "natural" state. They feel entitled ,powerful and justified in their goals. Memories of Nazi death chambers bring forth visions of how they will accomplish this. Or, will they be more subtle and use forced vaccinations to sterilize civilization.

These are the people we trusted as our leaders. These are the spoiled wealth generations of past fortunes earned through the freedom of America. And, now they want to destroy America.

Where have they gone so wrong? What demonic force has taken over our government?

Institutions like the EPA or the Humane Society or AARP have become too powerful and are pushing their destructive ideas on the very people who support them, who pay for their salaries.

We must pray hard to God and bring him back into our conscious. Pray for America. Pray that this presidency and destructive forces around it will implode in it's evil march toward the destruction of America.

Pray that the good, decent people of America will prevail and win over the hearts of the people who will most be hurt and suffer under the coming years. Take off the blinders and let them see that the Emperor is not wearing clothes, that his brilliant suit is nothing more than his naked self.

Granny Pearl

My Grandmother lived in a small town named Lott, Texas. She graduated from college in the early 1900's and raised two daughters, Nettie and Elma. Her husband was a lawyer, went to the Spanish American War and contracted typhoid fever which later killed him at a young age.

We lived in Marlin, Texas and visited Granny on Sunday's. Granny had a comfortable wooden frame house with a large porch. What stood out for me was her ice box. In Marlin, we had an electric refrigerator. But, Granny had an ice box. You went to the ice house and bought a block of ice to fit her ice box.

The outside was made of wood and the inside was lined with metal. I remember the smell to this day. Coke cans remind me of the smell inside the ice box. Granny would put the chunk of ice into the top of the box and it would last about a week. Carrying it home was always tricky because it was so cold that you had to switch it often from arm to arm so you wouldn't feel like your arm was freezing off.

Our first cars didn't have air conditioners. We took a long trip once and fitted the car with a hanging ice box. A round cylinder hung out the car window and it held a chunk of ice. When you drove, the wind blew over the ice and caused the air to circulate inside the car. That wasn't very efficient either because you needed to be sitting near the vent to get what little benefit it gave on long hot trips.

The first TV's were expensive and only had a few stations. The wooden box was large and housed an oval, black and white screen. It was about 6 inches high. Everyone had to huddle near the TV to see the image. Some of the first programs we watched were Groucho Marx and Ed Sullivan. The voices had a scratchy sound. The TV's cost about $500 which was a lot of money then. There wasn't anything like cable. You just plugged it into the wall socket and you got the two stations. I watched it at my boyfriends house, his father was a doctor, because we couldn't afford one.

I had to make do with my radio programs at home. I'd settle in my rocking chair between two windows. One faced north and the other faced east. Usually there was a good breeze coming through the windows. If the wind was still, we'd turn the dial on the attic fan. A huge fan placed in the attic was about 5 feet tall and the east end of the attic had large louvers that opened to let in the breeze or take out the heat. From a large grate in the ceiling, the air circulated through the two bedrooms. Every so often, the timer would go off and we'd jump up to set it again.

In my bedroom corner, I'd listen to the Lone Ranger, Inner Sanctum, The Squeaking Door, The Invisible Man while I did my homework or practiced on my alto saxophone.

When we were able to buy a TV, we'd gather in the dining room and watch the few programs we had. Until the programs got better, I mostly stuck to the radio.

I have since practiced going back to the old days. I opened my windows here at the house and experienced the heat gusts, the outside noises and placed floor fans in various spots. Even with the ceiling fan and floor fan going, it was still sultry and my skin was wet with perspiration. Bugs were more likely to get into the house through the screens with the attraction of the lights. Good old days, they weren't. But, we could live like that again if we have to.

I think I could do without TV and I definitely enjoy the radio. Doing without the computer would be a hard stretch.

In the coming months, I will test my tolerance to what I could live with in the event of a total electrical shut down. Do we have to go back to the pot bellied cooking stove and the ice box. Will transportation be horse and buggy again? It looks like America is headed backwards instead of forward. The EPA wants to tax us on oil and gas so much that the little people can't afford to have air conditioning or central heating. Special interest have gotten out of hand. The environmentalists are so radical that their rules and regulations will be the ruin of our nation.

Americans are a hardy soul. Every able bodied person will have to get up and work. No more welfare just because you have a baby. Everyone will have to pull their own weight. It's a new frontier and we've gone over it before in a covered wagon.

Americans will triumph over crooked politicians and megalomaniac power hungry individuals who are bent on a world government and a curtailment of the population. We are an honest, hard working group. God bless America.

Granny Pearl

Miss Pearl's Buggy Snake and Old Bill

My grandmother was born in Lott, Texas. It was a tiny town in the middle of corn fields. She and her sister Nettie grew up dividing their time between two grandparents. Granny was ambitious and studious , graduating from a woman's college in the early 1900's. She worked as a teacher and as a census taker.

At one point, Granny taught school in a home for wayward boys as they were called then.

Granny drove her horse Bill to a 4 wheel covered buggy. Bill was a fine sorrel gelding, gentle and kind as horses go. He was ever the gentleman. Granny would tell the story of when a coach whip snake wrapped itself up in the buggy spokes. Everyone was horrified and they promptly began whipping the snake. Trying to get away from the whip, the snake wiggled and ended up in the buggy. Granny and occupants scattered with loud shrikes. Old Bill thought he was suppose to go home without a driver and promptly took himself, buggy and snake back home.

Build in a Flood Plain, Expect a flood!

Why would anyone build a house in an obvious location that is known to flood? Just so you can pay flood insurance?

Individual survival depends on common sense and experience if you are lucky enough to get a second chance. I see young mother birds building nests on limbs low to the ground. It's an obvious no brainer.

Baby birds hatch if they are lucky enough to escape predators during the egg stage. They start peeping the moment they are born and whammo, some passing stray cat or coyote gets a free, easy meal.

Maybe that's what life is all about. The free and easy meal.

Someone cooks it and a passing predator eats it if you aren't vigilant. That's when you become a vigilante.

When does a predator become a hero? When you grab and eliminate a wild baby piglet.

I remember the days when we didn't even have health insurance. Life was simple. If we went to the doctor, we paid him with whatever we had. In the rural area, you might pay the doctor with chickens, veggies or wood. We checked our bills carefully and watched the charges.

Then, some lame brain came up with the concept of insurance. People didn't even bother to check their bills. They felt their insurance companies were paid handsomely with premiums, so they could check the bills. We began to see the doctors more because we felt we needed to get our full premium values. It became a vicious cycle. Doctors and hospital bills weren't checked or shopped for by the patients because insurance took care of it, so bills exponentially went through the roof along with escalating insurance premiums.

I try to avoid hospitals and doctor's offices at all costs. However, I landed in the emergency room with a rapid and irregular heart beat. They managed to slow the heart beat down to normal but wanted to keep me overnight. After 1 and 1/2 night, my hospital bill was $14,000. The doctors wanted to keep me one more night but I wasn't going to stay one more minute.

I didn't get anything extra in the hospital except "observance" , a Doppler test of the plumbing, periodic blood pressure checks and only saw the doctor (other than the emergency room visit) one time. The doctors were nice enough, but they were dealing with a cautious patient.

I've heard that more people die in the hospital than anywhere else. That's why I wanted out in a hurry.

Like the flood insurance, I sure didn't want to sit there where people crack the code too often. See the light. Pass through the pearly gates.

Then, they wanted to put me on all those medicines. I think they really believe in coumadin, blood thinners, etc. But, I remember when we didn't take anything like that and my grandparents and parents lived just as long as they do now. That's an advantage and maybe a curse.

But, remembering how things used to be puts a perspective on deciding my fate right now. My parents didn't take cholesterol or bone building medicines. Everything turned out well. They lived a long life and just died from normal old age problems.

Build your nest in a low branch and expect genetic extension.

Buy health, flood or hurricane insurance and expect to collect if you are born and live in those areas known to produce floods or hurricanes.

All this comes when I am required to pay over $2,500 in supplemental health insurance for the year. Is that the price of having survived abortion and being born in a home for unwed mothers and not smoking or drinking (to excess)?

You may win the war but have to pay for the damages later.

Working Cows

It's a full moon as I walked over to the barn. I have to switch animals around so that we can work cows and calves in the pens. In about an hour, my cowboys will come with their cow dogs and horses. Don is in his 70's. He's a retired electrician and horses are his passion. He has been around cattle most of his life and has established a client list of ranchers. He usually has about 3 other cowboys with him to go out into the thick brush to herd the cows up to the barn. Without dogs that can run through the trees and bushes and make the cattle come out, it would be difficult to get all of them.

At this time of the year, the cows are covered with small black biting flies. Sometime we have white scrawny egrets that light next to the cows and pick flies off them. There are never enough egrets for a natural fly protection. So, we have to apply a pour on insecticide to the cows backs to control them. Sometimes, molasses tubs with insecticide included will control the fly populations.

Cows have to be wormed to ensure optimal health. Calves have to be castrated and vaccinated. I am blessed to have pipe chutes for working my animals. In the past, we have had wooden chutes that broke under the stress of large cows or cows tried to jump out of the chute and had to be manually pushed back to prevent injury.

Professional cowboys are a way of life in Texas. They have their favorite working dogs and horses. Horses and dogs are a part of their families. They wear leather chaps to prevent thorns and briars from tearing at their legs. They always have well worn boots and spurs. The spurs are for signaling the horse what to do, where to turn, etc. Since the Western saddle is made of thick leather, communication between horse and rider is limited and spurs make it easier to "talk" to the horses. It can also be for correction if the horse is young and in training.

A cowboy wouldn't be complete without a Western hat, rope and a gun of some sort. In wild country, they could run up on coyotes, snakes or wild hogs. The gun is used for protection as well as a deterrent.

The cowboys I know don't smoke. It's not your Marlboro man. They may have an assortment of mustaches and beards. Don chomps down on a short cigar but he never smokes it.

It's always a nostalgic occasion for me. I have to sell the larger calves. You have to pull them off the cows because they will pull her down in weight and take the milk away from any calves born later. Unless you plan to replace the heifers or bulls of your herd with some top young animals, they must go to the sale barn.

I reserve the right to keep my favorite cows that I've bottle fed over the years. Cows, like people, wear out with age. Their teeth get slick and they can't chew grass anymore. They either have to be kept up and fed commercial feed or you have to make unpleasant decisions about their long term care. Over the years, I've seen that it's cruel to keep them in poor condition and kinder to send them to sale.

Cattle are our most efficient "machines" to keep pastures controlled for grass and weed growth. As humans, we can't eat grass and convert it to usable muscle. Without cattle, we would have rampant grass and vegetation growth which would result in massive wild fires. Cows have stomachs that can break down grass and weeds into muscle tissue. The design of our universe is in perfect balance. I do not like to see lions or tigers in the process of a kill. But, they keep a balance of eating sick, old and weak animals. Young healthy animals can live for another day.

I appreciate someone wanting to be a vegetarian but don't try to convert the world to your thinking. Each person has their own biological needs and for some a vegetarian diet can't keep them going. The world government is pushing for the world to become vegetarian. Some groups become radical, almost militant in their beliefs. I believe you should do what you think is right for yourself and leave the other people alone. It's time for all radical groups to just mind their own business and let people alone as long as they aren't breaking the law.

Well, I could go on and on about all the government regulations on ranchers recently that will virtually destroy the little rancher and promote the big commercial companies thus making us ultimately dependent on foreign countries for our food supply. But, that's another day.

Gotta go and work cows. It will be a long day.

Poppies In The Field

We've had considerable rain here in central Texas this year. Last year, 2009, we experienced the worst floor of 100 years, then the rains stopped. We experienced a crushing drought that brought the ranchers to their knees. Precious stored hay had to be fed to the cows in the early summer. Still no rain. Surely rain would come. But, it didn't and people who kept hope and their cattle, found themselves in the middle of a record market sell off of cattle. My cows survived on 1 bale of hay a day and mesquite beans. We always have bumper crops of mesquite beans in a drought. Cows got thin, cattle prices were down. Still, some held on. Hopes were high that it had to rain sometime.

We never got a break in 2009. Cattle prices plunged down ward and farmer's cost spiraled upward. Hay bales were bringing $65 and up. It was a no win situation for ranchers.

2010 has brought rains. Late, but it's ground soaking rains. With rains come weeds and grass. The weeds overshadow the grass. One particular weed that I find interesting is a tall thistle that can reach almost 5 feet in height. It's dark green with prickly leaves. At it's maturity, the thistle pods open to expose bright pink or light purple dandy lion type flowers. As I look at the noxious plant that I know I'll have to mow eventually, it reminds me of something I've seen before. Of course, I've seen this thistle before but in hard economic times, it brings to mind other fields that look like this. Where have I seen them?

That's it! It reminds me of the photos of Poppy plants from Afghanistan. Can this be a poppy? I doubt it. Surely the drug enforcement agency would have swarmed the place if it was THE poppy. But, is it a relative? I'll make it a point to ask the Agriculture Extension Agency.

Which brings me to the next thought. What if the cash strapped Texas farmer could capture some of that incredible wealth by growing poppies?

The second gold rush!

A cattle drive of mammoth proportions!

Why should drug dealers make all the money?

Of course, if growing poppy crops was legalized, the price would drop. We couldn't make all that money without being illegal.

I grew up in a time when prohibition was the going thing. No Alcohol! Bad! Illegal!

Big bucks! Big crimes!

Then, all of a sudden it was legal. Granted, some towns and counties didn't and still don't sell alcohol, but for the most part, it's legal. People aren't put in prison for drinking alcohol (unless they are drunk). Prisons aren't full of alcoholics unless they have an accompanying criminal problem. Phew! Thank goodness, we've passed that illegal period. We can all sit and drink a glass of wine in public. There is still the thing about legal age but, no thought today at all that in a period of our history, it was illegal for all citizens to drink alcohol.

Now, project to the future. One day, the use of drugs will be legal. We can no longer fill our prisons with drug dealers. We economically can't provide huge police or army forces to pursue drug dealers, drug addicts, drug lords, crimes associated with obtaining drug money, burning fields of poppies, supporting terrorists who make their money off poppy sales, and terrorists who use drug sales to bomb and slaughter innocent people.

Our Texas, Arizona and California borders are riddled with crime drug lords from Mexico who are connected to the Mexican government and held accountable for nothing. Drug lords rule Mexico and set the tone for horrendous murders. This drug tidal wave has crossed American borders to terrorize hapless American families.

Legalize drugs. Save our money to treat drug addicts. When alcohol was legalized, there wasn't a tidal wave of alcoholics. Empty the prisons of drug dealers, drug users. Save the prison spaces for child molesters and the real threats to our society.

Legalizing drugs would immediately cut off the terrorists money supply. It would immediately solve the drug related crime waves coming from Mexico. If we, gulp, legalized alcohol, we can take the next step and legalize marijuana and cocaine.

Once legal, it would no longer have the allure and fascination of a forbidden fruit.

Oops! Phew, I just woke to a horrible dream. Is it okay to harvest my poppies now?

Just like me. I sell skinny cows when the market is flooded. Now, I'm harvesting my poppies when it's legal and the rains have stopped and the poppies aren't growing.

Next time around, I'll get it right.