Friday, September 28, 2018


Today is Saturday. It is the first full day of autumn and our fields are flooded once again. And Victor Martinez retired.

Baseball is my favorite sport. The Detroit Tigers is my favorite team (and I live in Sr Louis Cardinals country).

Of course, we have two more weeks of baseball left in the regular season. And I will watch. I pay an astronomical fee to be able to get the Tigers feed on my television.

The team is in rebuilding mode. That means a lot of players are gone. They have been traded to make room for newer, younger, and hopefully more energetic players. In some cases maybe better.

We expected a losing year. That is the way it is with a rebuilding team. It was a poor year but much better than I expected. Certainly it was better than the sports media gleefully predicted.

The thing is I get very attached to the players. From 1968 when we won the World Series to 1984 for another World Series win to being the American League champions in 2006 I was there. I was in the stadium to see Mark 'the Bird' Fidrych pitch in his first Major League game.

I loved Norm Cash and Bill Freehan in '68. Mickey Lolich belongs in the Hall of Fame. Al Kaline is a special player and special person. Willie Horton was not born in Detroit but grew up there. He still lives there and is still an avid Tigers booster..

Alan Trammell and Lou Whitaker were the greatest up-the -middle team ever.  Kirk Gibson had the most go-gettum I have seen. Sparky Anderson was probably the most beloved curmudgeon as our manager.

Jim Leland gave Sparky a good contest in the curmudgeon department. We have had such great players as Joel Zumaya, Max Scherzer, Maglio Ordonez,  Placido Polanco, David Price, Rick Porcello, Gary Scheffield, Aurelio Lopez, Aurelio Rodriguez, Cecil Fielder, Prince Fielder, Pudge Rodriguez, J.D. Martinez... there is a long list.

I purposely separated Miguel Cabrera and Justin Verlander. Each is a once-in-a-lifetime kind of player.  Miggy is still with us but has been injured all year. Justin Verlander was traded at the end of last season and helped the Astros win the World Series.

Now back to Victor Martinez.  He was with the Indians for 7 years. Then he was traded to the Red Sox. He has been with the Tigers for 7 years. At the age of 39 he retired today from active playing. He will finish the season with his team but no more playing.

He is still an impressive player. His health has caused problems and he still has a lifetime batting average of close to 300... from each side of the plate. He is a switch hitter which means he bats both right-handed and left-handed. His batting average is almost the same from both sides which is almost unheard of.

Victor will be missed and at the same time we all wish him the best.

Tuesday, September 25, 2018

A Visit To The Pharmacy

I hate taking medicine. It is a real pain in my neck. However in order to live take it I must.

As I have told you before I have epilepsy. In order to not have seizures I have pills I have to swallow.

I am one of the fortunate ones. My seizures are well controlled. It has been a long time since I had one. Because I learned the hard way to take my medicine.

When I was younger if money was short I often chose to feed my family and put off buying my medicine.  I would often have a seizure because of it.

Each epileptic seizure is worse than the previous one.  They take a longer recovery time. Often it would take me two days to have the strength to get out of bed for anything more than going to the bathroom... with assistance.

I had to make sure there was money enough for my pills. I had four children to care for. So I did not have seizures as long as I had my medicine.

I was seeing a doctor who decided that I was a good candidate to be weaned from my medicine. Yay! Not having to take pills every day would be so nice. Naturally I agreed to try it.

I would take fewer pills each day until I no longer was taking any. Once a week would pass with no pills I would have to take no more medation. It sounded like a good deal to me.

My husband was not happy about it but I wanted to try it. Imagine not having to take any more medicine. It would be wonderful.

I took two different medications. One is a controlled substance meaning that I was addicted to barbituates physically.

The second night without any medication I knew I was in bad shape. I sat shivering like every junkie I had ever seen on TV. I was wrapped in a blanket but I was cold on the inside. My nose was running and my eyes were watering. I knew I would have a seizure if I fell asleep.

When my husband came home he was furious. He said he knew this would happen. He told me to go to bed and he would take care of getting the kids to bed.

As I knew I would I had a seizure that night. The doctor had said that if that happened I should go straight to the hospital and they would contact him.

I was admitted and settled into my room. I promptly had another seizure.

When I regained consciousness I was in a different room. The nurse told me they had a hatd time getting me to breathe. I had almost died.

Of course I began to take my medicine regularly after that. There were a few times I did not have the money to pay for my medicine. (My husband no longer lived with us.)

I almost died two more times. My poor children had to care for me.

Finally came the time when I was able to have my medicine all the time. I have not had any serious problems since... except with my prescriptions.

As I said one of the medications is a controlled substance. I have been taking it for 55 years. Physically I am addicted to it. I do not get high or crave a larger amount. I DO need to take it in order to stay alive.

My doctor cannot give me a prescription for more than 30 days. And no refills.

Okay. I understand the need to CONTROL controlled substances. But really this is going too far.

The doctor is somewhat governed by laws pertaining to controlled substances. I understand the need for those laws. There are people who use barbituates to get high and for other illegal reasons.

But I cannot even refill my prescription a day early! And the hoops I have to jump through if  the day for refill is on a weekend.  Not to mention that I have to drive 50 miles (round trip).

I have to fight the doctor, the insurance company, and the government.

This month my medicine ran out on a Saturday. I called the pharmacy and put in for renewal. Of course there were no refills allowed. They would contact the doctor. This has happened before.

I also contacted the doctor. I explained why I was requesting a refill 2 days early.  He said he would take care of it. I could pick it up on Friday. That was my plan.

Friday I went into the pharmacy. My prescriptions were ready... except for the controlled substance. .

It took almost an hour to wait while they once again contacted the doctor. He finally approved the refill.

My whole afternoon was spoiled because I allowed myself to be angry. After a good meal and a little time I am over it. But I should not have to go through this every month just to stay alive.  

Friday, September 21, 2018

Thanks, Mom !!!

Want to know why I am afraid of vampires? Do I have a story for you.

We were moving into a new house. We moved a lot. This time Daddy was working for a farmer. Part of the pay package was that we got to live in one of the extra farmhouses the farmer owned. That was a common practice at that time.

At that time there were only five of us kids. I am the oldest, about ten years old at the time, and the youngest one was about three. Needless to say we had a lot of stuff to move.

Daddy was pulling a trailer behind his car with as much as he could fit in at the time. He and my uncles would bring a load, empty it, and go for the next load. Mom and those of us old enough to help were busy putting things away.

It was a fairly hot summer day. In the 1950's people did not have air conditioners. The house had good ventilation though. A nice breeze blew through and helped keep us as cool as possible.

Mom decided finally that we had been working hard enough. It was time for a break. There was no furniture there yet so we had nothing to sit on. The floor was dirty from all the traipsing in and out. We flattened a couple of big cardboard boxes and sat on them to have a snack and something cool to drink.

Mom was entertaining us by singing a few songs. Then we asked for a story. We didn't want one of the same old stories she always told. We wanted something new.

She could not think of any. We begged. Finally she started to tell a story and quickly realized we should not hear it. She said it was not a good story for us. We begged and she finally gave in.

Her story was about Dracula, the vampire. We had never heard of vampires before. It was an exciting story. When it was over my little brother was fast asleep and the rest of us had to go back to work.

We worked hard all day. At the end of the day we had not even had time to put the beds together so we slept on the floor. Our rooms were upstairs. The boys were directly across the hall from us girls. The top of the stairs was right outside our doors.

It was a sweltering night. We had all the windows open to catch any breeze that might pass by but there were not many of those.

The main problem was that it was dark outside. Vampires come out after dark. They prey on the blood of poor unsuspecting victims. We were all afraid to go to sleep.

My mother assured us that a vampire could not come into the house unless someone invited it in. We were taking no chances. She told us to leave the lights on which we did.

Having the lights on accomplished two things. Number one; it was dark outside and we could only imagine what was lurking out there just waiting to attack. Number two; moths were attracted to the light. They flew up and banged against the windows. We all knew it was vampires trying to get at us.

Mom tried to calm us. It didn't work. She tried being firm. It didn't work. She finally ended up sitting at the top of the stairs between our bedrooms until we finally fell asleep.

I have been afraid of vampires ever since. See what you did, Mom? 

Tuesday, September 18, 2018

Experience With A Vampire

I know I have mentioned that I am afraid of vampires. They are the one thing I am sure does not exist (I have to be sure) but they terrify me.

I also have to admit I am fascinated by vampires. When I was younger I watched the movies. I read Dracula by Bram Stoker. I recommend this book. I also highly recommend the Wamphyri series by Brian Lumley. Actually it is the Necroscope series if you want to go to the library and look for them. But I digress.

I no longer watch vampire movies. For one thing I am afraid. For another most "scary" movies today are more aptly just "icky" movies. They show blood and gore just for the sake of making a mess. I am not a fan of all that. I can enjoy a movie that frightens me but I do not want to be made sick.

Back in the 1970's there was a movie that was made for television about vampires. It was named Dracula and starred Jack Palance. After the children were in bed my husband and I decided to watch it.

I had a nice rocking chair that I sat in. It is where I sat when I was feeding the babies or just to relax them before bed. While I rocked them I always wore a knitted brown shawl. It seemed so cozy to drape around the baby and me. It created a cocoon that separated us from everything else.

But the kids were in bed. I sat with my shawl around my shoulders in my comfy rocker and watched this vampire movie. I was never a big fan of Jack Palance. This movie was okay but I felt no big feeling about it one way or the other. But it was about a vampire. It did spook me a little.

Before going to bed myself I suddenly realized I had no milk for the children in the morning. We lived next door to my parents at that time. One of the things that I hated the most about living in the city was that the houses are so close together. For instance the house on the other side of us was so close that there was barely room for a little walkway between the two houses.

But in this case I was lucky to have my parents so close. I decided to run next door to see if Mom had a little extra milk until I could get to the store the next day.

As I was going out I turned to my husband and joked, "If I'm not back right away, it will mean a vampire got me." Then I hurried next door in the dark of night.

Was I afraid? I was a little. I knew there are no vampires but ... well you know how it is.

I was lucky. Mom had an extra gallon of milk. She told me to take the whole thing so I did! I wished them good night and went back home.

Now I have to tell you that I knew my idiot husband was going to do something to try to scare me when I got home. I knew it. And I was prepared.

What I was not prepared for was the figure that came flapping at me from the dark between the two houses. It was the size of a man but it had what appeared to be wings of some sort that were flapping crazily. I screamed as loud as it is possible to scream.

Then the figure came out from between the houses into the relative light of the night. It was my husband! He had my shawl over his head and arms and was still flapping like a vampire. He was laughing.

He went into the house with me hot on his trail. I threw the gallon of milk at him. He knew how scared I would be. Well maybe not because he told me that if he had known that I would throw the milk at him he would not have done it. Yeah, right!

Once I stopped shaking I thought I should call my parents to let them know I was okay. I peeked out the window and their house was dark. They were already in bed.

The next day I was talking to my mother and told her what had happened. She said, "We heard you scream. I looked out the window and didn't see anything so I figured you were okay and we went to bed."

What!?!? I think that perhaps, just perhaps, I was under-protected in my experience with the vampire.

Friday, September 14, 2018


As I am writing this the date is September 11, 2018. It is the 17th anniversary of the terrible day the World Trade Center was attacked, the Pentagon was attacked, Flight 93 was hijacked and crashed in Pennsylvania.

 At that time I worked the midnight shift at a superstore chain. My sister also worked there so we rode together.

After work I dropped my sister at her house. I went home and picked up my son to drive him to work. Once I finally was home for the day I turned on the news. It was early still but after a full night's work I fell asleep watching TV.

I awoke just in time to see the second plane fly into the second tower of the Trade Center. It took me a few seconds to realize that I was not watching a movie. This was real.

I called my sister right away. When I asked her if she was watching the news she said no, why? I said, "I think somebody just declared war on us."

It was an awful day. Terrorists had hijacked airplanes to use them to attack strategic targets.

American Airlines Flight 11 plowed into the North Tower of the Trade Center first. As news crews were trying to figure out what happened the nation watched in shock as United Airlines Flight 175 flew into the South Tower.

Then before we could catch our breaths we learned that 2 more planes had been taken. American Airlines Flight 77 crashed into the Pentagon. United Airlines Flight 93 was headed toward the White House.

The passengers on Flight 93 decided that since they were probably going to die they would protect the White House and maybe the President of the United States. That plane went down in a field in Pennsylvania when the passengers fought against the terrorists.

There were no survivors on any of the airplanes.  Many more people in the buildings died. Still more people lost their lives during rescue efforts.

I obsessively watched television news all day for several days. I saw it happen but it was unbelievable.  Do you remember where you were that day?

Tuesday, September 11, 2018

In Home Birthday

As you know my sister has been in a nursing home for a few years. She suffered a severe stroke. Her husband cared for her at home as long as he could. Finally they found a nice facility for her.

Her husband and son visit her every day. Still she wishes to be at home.

My sister's birthday is 9 days after mine. She is 4 years younger than I am.

She recently turned 67 years old in the nursing home. I know she hated it but at the same time she was in good spirits when I spoke to her.

She is still paralyzed on one side of her body. Being unable to sit up means she is always in bed. Some days she has trouble breathing because of her inactivity.

I of course had to tease her about being so old. She was determined to never become old and here she is... 67 years old. How funny.

We used to laugh because she got rid of men (including husbands) when they turned 30. Who knew we would ever be this old?

Time is so precious. I remind all of us to enjoy it while we have it.

Friday, September 7, 2018

My Family Part 12

My brother was very young when his daughter was born. Within a scarce few months his wife found out they were having another baby. I scolded my brother. His wife's body had not had time to recover from the birth of my niece. I ranted and raved and told him he should know better. Several months later they had a beauftiful son.

You know how nature has a way of putting us in our places and humbling us? I gave my brother such a hard time. Well, I was barely out of the hospital after having my third son and I was pregnant again.

Before my third baby was even born I had decided that I was not having more children. Three was quite enough. Then that was a difficult pregnancy. I did not want to put my children through that again.

I wanted surgery to prevent me from being able to have more children. My husband had to give permission due to archaic laws at the time. He would not agree to it so I used other methods almost 100% guaranteed to make sure there were no more babies.

Then came the day I woke up thinking,"Wouldn't it be nice to have another baby?"

While our someday baby was a surprise, our fourth baby was a shock. Things would be very difficult. My husband was on the road all the time leaving me with three boys and they were a handful. So shock or not we were expanding our family.

If you have read about the birth of my first three babies you will know that once my babies decided to be born they did not fool around. They were born quickly. My husband was usually only home on the weekends and I knew practically nobody. The nearest hospital was 30 miles away and I would probably have to drive myself. Who would take care of my boys? We decided that I would take the boys and go stay with my parents again.

My husband was hoping we would have a little girl. I decided that it would be a boy because I already had boys. I had clothes for a boy. My older two boys were extremely close and I thought it would be nice if the younger two could be that close.

Once again I pushed for a tubal ligation so that I would not have more babies. My husband balked at the idea. What if it was not his girl that he wanted. I told him that if he thought I was going to keep having babies until he got a girl, he was crazy.

I had a much easier time of things this time. I actually enjoyed my pregnancies for the most part. There is something that changes the way you view the world. It is probably hormonal.

Finally came the day that the contractions started. My mother once again took me to the hospital. The doctor examined me. I was no longer feeling any contractions. He determined that it was a false labor. I would not have my baby for about 10 days.

While I was left to get dressed to go home, the doctor went to tell my mother. She looked at him and said, "Oh no you don't. I know how she does this. I'll get her halfway home and she'll have that baby in the car."

The doctor told her she could have me walk the halls to see if exercise would make something happen. After about two hours Mom finally took my home.

My daughter was born ten days later. She was beautiful. She had little black ringlets of hair all over her head. But she was the color of a beet. Even after her skin became a normal color I could not dress her in red and little girls always look so nice in red. When she was much older I could have a red dress or blouse as long as there would be a huge white collar between her and the red.

Once again my husband was on the road when our daughter was born. We had finally agreed that he would authorize the surgery for me to not have more babies. But he was on the road when the morning of the surgery came. The nurse did not know what to do.

She asked if I was absolutely sure that my husband would sign the authorization papers. I assured her that he would. She decided that I could sign them for now and he could give official authorization as soon as he could get there.

Of course by the time my husband arrived the surgery was over and done. There was no need for his "permission" as policy required. I was the first married woman in my state to authorize her own surgery.

All three of my boys were enchanted by having a sister. As a matter of fact they have always spoiled her as much as possible. Even after all these years. But she knows it and appreciates it. She would do anything for her brothers.

My husband was in heaven. He finally had his little girl. She could do no wrong. Her place to be was on his lap. He would sing to her and show her the feelings that he felt he should not share with his sons.

Right away I noticed that a girl baby is different from a boy baby. She actually had legs like a girl! I just assumed that happened as girls grew up.

My daughter was the best baby I have ever seen. When she would wake up she would make enough noise to let me know that she was awake, then wait patiently for me to be able to get to her. Because I already had one baby my lap was often full. My daughter just fit where ever there was room.

There were only two problems. Projectile vomiting was one. She did not spit up like most babies. She spit out and all over the place. She was such a delicate little lady.

You may want skip this paragraph because it is disgusting. When my beautiful baby girl would fill her diaper it always went up her back and out her sleeve. Do not ask me how that happened. I have no idea. And her brothers said it smelled like Kentucky Fried chicken. We do not eat there.

One time the kids and I were to meet my husband in the city where my parents lived. So we packed and set off. I knew that traveling with four small children would be a trial so I planned to stop at the end of the day and spend the night at a motel.

My daughter could not wait (as most babies just answer the call of nature when the call comes in) and of course out her sleeve it went. Her oldest brother was holding her and was immediately repulsed. I had to pull over and change her diaper and her clothes. None of the boys wanted to hold her . It was a you do it... no, you do it kind of thing.

My daughter has blonde hair and fair skin. She looks so pretty in white. So of course any time I saw a white outfit or a white coat I had to get it for her.

White is impractical for a little girl with three big brothers. She was very feminine but she can hold her own with the boys. So it was a regular thing that she would come in with her pretty white clothes covered with dirt, grease, grass stains, blood, or whatever.

Her father called her his "Darlin" and announced that she could do no wrong. I chuckled because I knew her. We were riding one day and he had to go into the store for something. Our daughter was seated between us.He had left his pack of cigarettes on the seat.

I looked over and she had taken the cigarettes out and shredded them. I laughed. When her father came out he saw what she had done, I smiled sweetly and said, "She can't do anything wrong because she's your Darlin." Without missing a beat he looked at me and replied, "That's right."

Another thing I discovered is that girls are more expensive than boys. Their clothes cost more and they need a slightly larger wardrobe so the expense is considerable. And her activities usually cost more.

The boys played little league baseball. The cost was for a glove. Uniform shirts, bats, ball, coaches, and everything else was provided.

My daughter had less than no interest in sports. I knew that she needed something to occupy her time so I enrolled her in a dance class.

In cities it seems as if nationalities and ethnic groups tend to cluster together. Our city was no different. The neighborhood we lived in had mostly Polish people. Even though we have no Polish ancestors we tried to fit in. So a Polish dance class was where I took my daughter.

It was inexpensive to join the class. All you had to do was purchase the life insurance that would make you a member. It was very reasonable so we became card-carrying Poles.

Each week she would go to learn the traditional dances of Poland and I would attend the mothers' meetings. That was when I discovered the real expense.

At the end of the year there would be a recital. Traditional Polish costume was required for the dancers. Often another mother would have a costume that no longer fit her daughter so they could be purchased at a reasonable price. And they were good for as long as your daughter stayed the same size.

The headpieces were another matter. They were made by a local flower shop of fresh flowers and ribbons. They were beautiful but expensive. A new one each year.

And of course there were other dances. Besides the dance slippers they needed for most dances, there would occasionally be specialty dances. One year it was a tap dance routine that required tap shoes. And a different costume was needed for those dances. They had to be bought at dance stores or if we were lucky we could find a seamstress to make them. Either way it was expensive. The children always looked beautiful and performed in a way to make their mothers proud.

After the proceeds from the recital were used to cover expenses like the rental of the hall the money was used for the children and their mothers to take a trip.

One year we traveled to the World's Fair in Knoxville, Tennessee. My best friend's daughter danced so she was there. My friend also had to take her baby daughter. That little girl made my daughter's projectile vomiting look like a hiccup. And she very often chose me as her target. On the plane to Knoxville I believe she managed to hit every spot on the plane.

We had a wonderful time. On the way home my daughter did not feel well. Poor thing was sick for several days afterward.

When her father left home for good, my daughter was devastated. Her place to sit had been on her father's lap. He doted on her. And suddenly he not only did not live at home but he did not make himself available to the children. She cried often and long. I did what I could but she wanted her father.

Her father's brother came to the rescue. I did not particularly like this brother. But he stepped in and was there for all my children, especially my daughter. I may not always like him but I have developed a strong respect for him.

My brother-in-law and sister-in-law have a daughter the same age as my daughter. Across the street from them lived another girl their age. She lived with her grandparents. The three of them were constant companions. One of their favorite activities was roller skating.

My daughter had her own room and furniture in their home. At Christmas they gave her everything they gave to their daughter even knowing that I had gifts for her. It made her feel wanted again.

I have often said that the love my daughter and her uncle felt for each other was a beautiful thing to see. She adored him. And he loved her.

He had to love his wife and children. But he did not have to love nieces and nephews. Most of them he merely tolerated. He was very good to my sons and even to me but he loved my daughter. He did not have to but he loved her.

Having three older brothers allowed my daughter to become a sassy little thing. When she thought I was not listening she had a mouth like a truck driver. She knew that no matter what happened her brothers were right there to take care of her.

There was a little boy her age who lived around the corner from us. He liked to tease my daughter. One day after school I heard her burst into the house and exclaim, "Sammy's picking on me." They rode the same school bus.

The door slammed as all the boys took off (behind my daughter I might add) and down the street after Sammy. Sammy was not very big for his age and I have nice big healthy boys.

I was upstairs and ran to look out the window to see what was going on. There was my darling daughter running down the street after Sammy, yelling and waving that famous family finger all the way. Her brothers were hot on her heels. Poor Sammy was running for his life. He made it inside his front door just before they caught him and he was safe.

When they returned I had my daughter tell me what had happened. Sammy had been picking on her on the school bus. She did nothing on the bus. She waited until their stop. As soon as the bus pulled away she beat the tar out of Sammy. Then she came in and incited a riot with her brothers.

My daughter is quiet in situations where there are large amounts of people. One teacher told me she would never raise her hand in class to offer an answer to a question. However he knew that she always knew the answer.  Sometimes if he could not get the correct answer from anyone else he would call on her and she always knew.

She was in all of the little programs they have at school. It is a time for the teachers to show parents things that they could be proud of. Often it involved the group standing together and singing. My daughter did not just move her mouth and pretend to sing. She did not move her mouth at all. She would just stand there looking bored occasionally raising her eyes to the ceiling the way children do.

Just as her brothers had done, she was accepted into the accelerated middle school. One of her teachers was from another country. Sometimes his upbringing would clash with the American way of life. For instance he decided that my daughter's blouse was too revealing. It not only was not, but if it had been I would not have allowed her to wear it. I do believe in a bit of modesty. He was not happy that a female parent had the temerity to disagree with him.

This teacher ran a strict classroom. I applaud that. I think he may have been too rigid but no one was hurt. One rule was that no child should speak out in class unless spoken to first. It is not a bad rule.

One day he was asking questions of the children. He would say the name of the child and that child was to answer all questions until he called on the next child. He asked my daughter a question. She answered. He asked another question and she answered again.

He exploded and said she was being insolent because he was not asking the question of her. He assigned her to write a paper about something or other. When she came home she was angry. She had tried to explain to him that he had not directed the question to another student but he was having none of it.

I called the principal and made an appointment to visit him and the teacher the next day. In the meantime I wrote a very nice note to the teacher. I explained that my daughter did not think she did anything wrong. I explained that he should be pleased that she was strong enough to stand up for her principles. I said that I understood what her punishment was supposed to be but that I would not allow her to write the paper until I spoke to him

We had a meeting. I gave my side of the story first because I had asked for the meeting. Then the teacher spoke. He had been sure he was right so he asked the other students in the class if they heard him request the answer from another student. They all said they had not. Perhaps, just perhaps, he had been hasty in assigning punishment. She would not have to write the paper.

I thanked him. Then as soon as he left I had the principal assign my daughter to another class.

My daughter has grown into a beautiful, competent young woman. She inherited intelligence and wisdom from her grandmothers.

She was working for a company owned by the same family who own the local Major League Baseball team. The company held ceremonies to award bonuses and promotions in a major theater in the city. The Christmas parties included all the sports members as well as the people who worked for the business.

My daughter had been promoted to manager of her store. She has an unusual name and people seem to like to mispronounce it. When the owner of the company called her name to come forward he mispronounced it. Other people from the company who knew her were quietly giggling and making bets on whether she would correct him when she was on the stage.

She leaned near him and told him the correct way to say her name. He blushed a bit and actually corrected himself on the microphone.

When my daughter was walking back to her seat the owner's wife stopped her and told her it was good to put the boss in his place once in a while.

My daughter has a son who is now in college. . Her daughter is two years younger and also in college. My daughter has been with their father for about twenty-five years.

Now you have met all my children. There will be more tales of them later. I just wanted to introduce them so you could see how special they are.

Tuesday, September 4, 2018

Is It Over?

Many people feel that Labor Day connotes the end of summer. I suppose in ways they are right.

After Labor Day the children are back in school. Their days of camping, swimming, and playing outside all day are now on hold until next summer.

Family vacations have been taken and hopefully enjoyed. Cook-outs and block parties will resume next summer.

We begin to think about pulling out warmer clothing to get ready for cooler weather. No need for them just yet but we do not want to wait until the last minute.

There will be football games at the high school. That is a sure sign of autumn.

As I look back at my summer it seemed short. Two old sayings apply. Time flies when you are having fun and The older you are, the faster time goes by.

I live where Nebraska, Iowa, and South Dakota come together. We had strange weather this summer. Some days were so hot that even with the air conditioner we felt the heaviness of it. Other days were abnormally cool.

This time of year is usually unbearably hot. We have had moderate temperatures with a few downright cool days and cold nights.

This whole summer brought a lot of rain. We escaped a lot of the horrors that were inflivted on a lot of the country.

We had minor flooding from the beginning of spring. Eventually there was major flooding but it has been worse. The river is still high so the threat is still there but I think we will be okay for the rest of the year.

Because of the rain gardens and crops have flourished. As have weeds and the little pests that live and hide in them. Some farmers lost fields of corn and soybeans and hay from floods. Some fields have standing water in them today.

Every once in a while I could see smoke in the distance. Comparatively small wildfires ignite from time to time but nothing uncontrollable.

It will be interesting to see what winter brings. Of course I want to enjoy the fall. It is my favorite season. There is no sign of it yet and I can wait.