THE DUST WILL WAIT

I decided to run away from home when I was about 5 years old. My best friend Beth lived down a hill and across several acres of prime dairy farm. There were a few barbed wire fences and a herd of black and white Holstein cows along the way. Those small things, however, were not going to stop me. I was going to go live with her. Life would be good at her house. She didn’t have any brothers. I threw all my earthly belongings into Moms old hat box, grasped the flimsy ribbon band like a handle, and snuck out the back door. My escape route led beyond the back yard, past the chicken house, the fruit house, the woodshed, and the garage. A narrow path led between a wall and a sharp uphill slope to the garden. Through the gate I pushed, and fled beneath the pink climbing rose that trailed up to the roof. I was going to miss the rose bush and the chicken house. I hurried across the flat grassy area that was edged on one side by some old grow...

Well, actually we do.

Continued from Part 1 , written by my late father (1900-1977) From San Francisco I hitch-hiked to Los Angeles. Luckily I made the trip in two days on Highway 101. I found everything normal after the disastrous quake. I found, also, that there was no chance for an outsider to get work. I never saw much of the damage done by the quake, since the curious were prevented from going into the damaged area. I stayed only overnight in Los Angeles and left the next morning on Highway 99, hitch-hiking to Oregon. I had an invitation from a friend of mine south of Roseburg to come up and live the life of Riley with him on his Cow Creek Ranch. I made fair time. I picked up some money by helping truck drivers load and unload. Part of the time I drove for some tourists who were worn out with too many hours at the wheel. That seemed funny to me, after having seen so many thousands out of work. It was true, nevertheless. My being a registered California chauffeur perhaps accounted for some of my lucky r...

A BIG THANK YOU to Michele for solving my sizing problem with my banner. She says she uses ArcSoft PhotoStudio. So while she did my work for me I got to go out and play. My friend Vee and her daughter K took me up into the foothills of the Blue's for an afternoon snowball fight. We left Bud and the hubby to do chores. K took her friend -Little Yellowboots. The wind was blowing like ice-picks and I was so c-c-c-c-cold that I thought about recent posts by D, Silent Tun e s of Grey who said it was too cold to breathe and Nan, Writer Mom, who was waxing poetically about frozen boogers. Yellow boots made a very impressive snow angel. K was shaking so badly she could hardly hold on to her snowball. But she got in a couple of accurate strikes. No Snow Outing is complete without the obligatory snowman. On the drive back down we got to see these wild turkeys along Blue Creek. It' s windy and rainy here, too. And the hubby said we were supposed to get snow showers tonig...

Businesba lls.com is a website that gives origins and meaning of expressions or words that have been used in our everyday speech. There are new phrases that enter the social intercourse as events and famous personalities influence the language. A very old phrase, For the Birds (also strictly for the birds) - means useless, unreliable, unacceptable or trivial. It implies that something is only for weaker, unintelligent or lesser people. Credit for that description is given to Kirkpatrick and Schwarz Dictionary of Idioms. Decharne's Dictionary of Hipster Slang references the Hank Janson novel, Chicago Chick 1962. "'It's crazy man,' I told him, ' real crazy. Strictly for the birds.'" I've been having blogger problems. I know a lot of it is my lack of experience and know how. I'm sure my brain is bigger than an ostrich eye, which is how big an Ostrich brain is said to be. Right now I just think Blogger is Strictly for the birds. Yes - my f...

It was tag week for me. As much as I love writing "junk," I find writing about me very difficult. Nevertheless, I am going to try to do this without ME2's help at this conjuncture. (ME2: psssst. She doesn't even know what conjuncture means. Sigh.) Thanks to Kelly for giving me the opportunity to share five things few people know about me. visit her at Pass The Torch . Her blog has everything put together exactly how it should be. She's made a decision to stay home this year and homeschool her two kids, D and C. (You'll find C jumping into the lake from her Banner.) I'm wishing they were my grand kids, they are so cute, and smart,...and lucky to have Kelly, not only as their teacher, but also as their mom. Now, back to the subject at hand. Here are the five things you don't know about me. 1. My weight 2. My innermost thoughts 3. My bra cup 4. My foot deodorant 5. The side of the bed on which I sleep Thus, they remain the five things you don't ...

Last weekend Grand Auntie Fern called and invited the hubby and me to come to her retirement home for the holiday dinner. In the past, she has been to our home, as well as to other extended family members in the valley. Everyone loves this sweet lady who will be 98 in April. This time, however, she wanted company at her home. We were pleased to join her, as none of our girls could make the trip to ours. We couldn’t go out of town because of my Friday work commitment. The dining hall was half-empty as many of the residents would spend the day with family. The food was traditional Thanksgiving; turkey, stuffing, mashed potato and gravy. Senior citizen sized servings found no complaints here. I usually eat too much. The hostess asked if we would allow a recent arrival to join us at our table. Shirley had been there two days and didn’t know anyone yet. We were happy to make it a foursome. Auntie was dressed in a lovely suit, with complimentary...