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.