Pokin' a Little Red Neck Fun

While surfing on my cyber surfboard, I ran across some Red Neck Computer Lingo, and it made me laugh so will pass it on.  I think we're all in need of a little humor these days...........

BACKUP--what you do when you see a skunk in the woods.

BAR CODE--Them's the fightin' rules at the local tavern.

BUG - Dah reason you give for calling in sick.

BYTE - What your pit bull did to Uncle Jethro.

CACHE - What you need when the food stamps run out.

CHIP - Pasture muffins you try not to step in.

CRASH - When you go to Junior's party uninvited.

DIGITAL - The art of counting on your fingers.

DISKETTE - A female disco dancer.

FAX - What you lie about to the IRS.

HACKER - Uncle LeRoy after 32 years of smoking.

INTERNET - What cafeteria workers put over their hair.

KEYBOARD - Where you hang the keys to the John Deere.

MAC - Big Bubba's favorite food.

MEGAHERTZ - How your head feels after 17 beers.

MODEM - What you did to the grass and weeds when they got too tall.

MOUSE PAD - Where Mickey and Minnie live.

NETWORK - Scoop out the big fish before it breaks the line.

ONLINE - Where to stay when taking the sobriety test.

ROM - Where the Pope lives.

SCREEN - Helps keep the skeeters off the porch.

SERIAL PORT - A red wine you drink for breakfast.

SUPERCONDUCTOR - Amtrak's Conductor of the Year.

TERMINAL - Time to call the undertaker.

There you have em.  Isn't it amazing how everything has a fence, therefore, two sides?  We can choose which side of the fence we feel most comfortable with.  I'm sorry, gang, but I've gotta say that I'm doin' okay with the Red Necks on this one! 

Have a great weekend, y'all....

Alphabet Challenge

This morning I'm presenting myself with a challenge.  I'm going to write 26 sentences, each sentence starting with the alphabet letter as it appears in sequence.  So, here goes.......

Alexander Graham Bell is not my hero.

Baffled by some people's actions, I still maintain that man is basically good way down deep inside.

Cats simply are not as loving as dogs.

Dental work is a definite pain in the derriere.

Entitlement was not something my generation aspired to.

Frickin' is a fabulous alternative for another word that starts with "f."

Gumby, the clay character, was a flexible little guy.

"Heavens to Mergatroyd" was a phrase from my teenage years.

Intuition is real; it's our built-in sonar.

Jasmine is one of my favorite fragrances.

Ketchup is my favorite flavor enhancement.

Ladders scare me cuz I'm afraid of heights.

Maps have now been replaced by GPS, another one of today's marvels.

Nasty people are just that.

Oatmeal has a weird consistency.

Paper plates were invented by St. Peter, and that's all they use Up There.

Questions are what keep us learning.

Retirement is my heaven on earth!

Sugar supposedly can kill us, so why is it so sweet?

Truffles, tarts, and triscuits are yummy!

U-turns are okay when it comes to how we manage our lives.

Venting is good for the body, mind, and soul.

Wild wabbits wun around in our backyard.

Xrays cause me to wonder when the people taking them go hide behind a wall.

Yup, I'm about to the end.

Zebras are either black with white stripes, or are they white with black stripes?

Ta-Da!

The Winner Is...........C.N.

C.N. is the lucky winner of a crate of Fortune Cookies, as he was the first to give the reason for the white knight chess piece on Paladin's business card and holster that I mentioned in today's blog.  C.N. put me onto an awesome website http://www.televisiontunes.com/, where he found the lyrics to Paladin.  The reason for the chess piece is stated in the lyrics, "A chess knight of silver is his badge of trust."

Way to go, C.N........I hope every one of your fortunes adds zest to your salad of life!

Call Me Annie Oakley

Just read that Roy Roger's stuffed horse, Trigger, was sold at auction for $266,500.  A Nebraska cable t.v. network was highest bidder.  Man, did that bring back memories of the old Westerns we baby boomers grew up watching.  I can still hear Roy and his wife, Dale Evans, singing "Happy Trails to You Until We Meet Again."

Richard Boone was the cool dude that played Paladin in "Have Gun Will Travel" and I'm pretty sure I wanted to marry him and keep him for my own.  He wore black and would aim his gun at the audience when the show started.  I can't say for sure, but Richard Boone was supposedly related to Daniel Boone and was a cousin to the singer, Pat Boone.  But, those sorts of rumors can be fact or fiction, depending on the day.  Remember Paladin's business card?  It had a white knight chess piece on it, and so did his gun holster.  Why was that?

And, "Rawhide" starring Clint Eastwood as Rowdy Yates, the young ramrod, and Gil Favor who was the head of the cattle drive.  Wishbone was the old fellow who did the cooking for these cowboys.  The words to this show's theme song are embedded in my brain, too.  "Rollin, Rollin, Rollin.  Though the streams are swollen.  Keep them doggies rollin.  Rawhide."

Bat Masterson was a handsome one, as well, wearing his natty vested suit and carrying the fancy cane that he used to get his point across.  I wanted him, too.  His presence was commanding, especially in saloon settings where bar fights were common in the Old West.  Most westerns had the swinging-door saloon, round wooden tables where cowboys played poker and drank shots of straight whiskey, and girls in can-can dresses flounced down the stairs and sat on the cowboys' laps.  Ultimately a fight would break out, chairs would topple over, and gun shots and fist fights would break whiskey bottles and smash up the entire bar setting.

One of my all-time faves was the early "Wagon Train" series with Ward Bond who played the wagon master, Major Seth Adams, and Robert Horton who played the part of Flint McCullough, the trail scout.  Flint would ride ahead to see what danger lied ahead of them, and then he'd come flying in on his horse with the warnings.  Charlie Wooster was the goofy cook.   The wagon train guided ordinary families through Indian territory out west where they sought a new and better life.  When there was trouble, the wagon master would put the wagons in a circle, and the whole shebang would get their guns ready.  Families lived in covered wagons during these adventures, and once in awhile a love affair would start blooming between the characters, and a new episode would be born. 

I think I could go on and on forever yacking about these old classic westerns, because they influenced us kids who grew up in the 50s.  I miss westerns, and the new programming of the 21st century just doesn't get me all that enthused.  It's another good example of generational gapping.  The human spirit changes and molds each generation differently.  There is a purpose for that, although sometimes it's hard to understand.  Most of the things that I privately criticized my parents for doing when I was a kid, well, I find myself doing them myself now.  I kind of chuckle to myself, especially when I can't stand loud music.  If one thinks about it, balance is needed to keep everything in sync.  So, it only stands to reason that there would be a generational balancing act, as well.  Hmmmmm.

As I've blogged before, I'm on this rampage of downsizing our stuff here at home.  When I say that, I have to highlight that I'm going at a snail's pace.  But, nevertheless getting rid of stuff we've collected during our lifetimes.  Anyway, going through a dresser drawer the other day, guess what I found?  Yup, my silver pistol with pearl handle that I toted in my holster when I fought the Indians in grampa's grove of evergreens.  The pearl handle is taped together with several bands of adhesive tape.  Don't laugh, cuz  I wouldn't be here if it wouldn't have been for that pistol.  I had to be a fast draw to stay alive against my boy cousin who thought he was faster than me.  When I drew my gun and pulled the hammer back, hey, the bad guys shook in their boots.  Once in a great while I purposely fell to the ground, holding my chest, crying out in pain pretending that he "got me" but then both of us would bust out laughing, get on our invisible horses, and ride away to some other canyon.

Our childhood was one of pretend.  We pretended to be anything we could think up.  Having had more boys in the family, I got involved in some pretty down and dirty battles.  I always figured, there ain't no boy gonna double-dog dare me to do anything that I couldn't do. 

I can't close without mentioning that I had one boy cousin who was my very best buddy growing up.  He and I would get to stay overnight with gramma and grampa together, and our families knew we were a match made in heaven.  We played in the grove of trees, we played in the sandbox made out of a big old tractor tire, and we'd talk, and we'd wonder and we'd explore.  Our world of two was safe, and we could trust our lives to one another.  To this day, I love him dearly and the few times we do see each other we revisit those days and laugh until we both start wiping our eyes.  Up until we were about 9 years old we shared the same bed at grampa's house.  Then came the awful day when we were told to sit down for a little talk, and our grandparents told us we could no longer sleep together.  What?  What did we do wrong to deserve this?  From that point on I would sleep with gramma, and he would sleep with grampa.  We were just innocent kids that loved each other but knew not a thing about any of the grown-up business.  Years later we understood why they separated us like that, but we remember our sadness more than anything.  We just wanted to be together.  That was all.

Isn't it amazing how we are born as babies and our days of life turn into years, and we meet others that affect us so much that they stay tucked away in the locket of our hearts forever?  Our Creator was kind when he gave us the ability to remember the times that brought us such intense true happiness.  With that ability, we never lose that happiness.  We can push the replay button and live those times over and over, and maybe add a dash of salt here and a sprinkle of pepper there.  Now, how neat is that!

Crank Up the Fans

Yowza, it's gonna be a scorcher today.  Plus, I think thunderstorms are in the forecast to start around noon.  Dew points to exceed 100.  As I look out the window, the air looks heavy, almost foreboding.  I pity those who must work outdoors in this dangerous weather, as well as the confined animals.  I pray people tend to their pets properly, giving them water and. at the very least, some shade.  Our Bichon doesn't know how lucky she is to live with retired parents who are here to refill her water dish and turn on the ceiling fan to circulate the air.  Her coat is very thick, and in this heat she stretches herself out on the tile floor or the wooden floors downstairs.   

This sweltering heat makes me think of my dad working road construction back in the 60s.  His job was working with the tar kettle for sealing the lines in the highways. He used to call it his tar "kittle."  Migod, how he must've suffered on those awfully hot days. He was one tough cookie, never once complained about his job, but instead would call attention to those mighty fine black strips in the roads their crew worked on.

Nothing too spectacular hovers over our day.  Honestly, in this type of mid-summer weather, we stay indoors where we belong.  One of my complaints when I was younger was how the older folks would be out and about in the worst kinds of weather, in both summer and winter.  So, somewhere along the line I vowed to be smart and not put myself in any line of fire.  Maybe I'll go rummage through the attic and pick out a couple of things to sell on eBay.  Oh, that reminds me, I have a great opportunity to be part of a garage sale this coming weekend, and if all goes right, we will try to do that.  Every object in this house is currently "at risk."

We had friends over for a simple supper on the patio last evening.  Spending time with our friends is #1 on our list of life's best things.  The years we have left are getting fewer, but relationships are growing dearer.  We especially like doing things on a whim.  Last eve we called this other couple at 5:45 p.m. to see if they could join us for supper.  They said, "sure" and were here within the half hour.  We simply set aside our cares and tended to camaraderie.  A couple of cool drinks, a simple meal, a few hearty laughs, and, for us, that's sliding into home plate!

Human Silliness

"I think you're slipping" were the words my husband understandingly said to me yesterday when we were well on our way for a road trip and I realized I hadn't taken my morning meds.  The worst part was that I'd not replaced the single supply that I usually carry with me in my purse.  I felt so bad, but the biggest asset in my life is my husband's easy-going attitude.  He merely turned our vehicle around, smiled at me, and said, "everything is good for something."

So it is that more and more we forget, we misplace, we do silly stuff that probably ten years ago we wouldn't have done.  Maybe it's just the fact that now we're older and our age gets blamed for anything we screw up.  I clearly remember the time when I was much younger that I put a package of new pantyhose in the refrigerator as I was unpacking our groceries.  If I'd do that today, well......you get the picture.

Turning back and getting my meds into my system was far more important than the time we lost.  And, what is time to the retired?  We're all so programmed, I think, to bust our buns flitting  around doing this and that, trying not to get 'caught' doing nothing, and why?

At one point in my life I was a "watch watcher" and that was a bad habit.  The clock ruled my life until one day I said to myself, "that's it....no more!"  That was the day I quit wearing a watch and eased up on my Type A behavior.  And, it worked.  If you see me wearing a watch today, it will be for one of two reasons:  1)  I'm wearing it simply as a piece of jewelry, or 2) I'm going to have to meet someone at a certain time if we're shopping.  That's it. 

I'm living proof that we can change ourselves dramatically if we truly want to.  My high gear has eased down to nearly neutral, it's more like I'm idling.  There's no need for me to fly around anymore trying to have everything the way I "think" it oughta be.  Like I always say, what would happen if I'd die today?  The world will nicely keep spinning and life will go on like I'd never been here.  The wrinkles would smooth themselves out quickly.
While we were driving yesterday, we were visiting about our society's views on human weight.  Let's start with television ads.  At prime times they sprawl before us 2-ply hamburgers dripping with goodness, ice cream sundaes slathered in hot chocolate, and slices of pizza with mozarella strings about a foot long.  They know how to bait us on the one side of the fence.  Then, on the other side of the fence we have the industry that supplies us with diet pills, diet foods, weight control organizations, exercise facilities with high membership fees, and the medical field that makes millions on stapling our stomachs.  Egads, what a swirl of human silliness.

I've been doing a silly survey the last while, and when I'm people-watching, I imagine every person as a little vehicle.  That's all we really are, you know.  Then I decide what category each person would fit into.  For instance, there was a check-out gal in a store that was so short she could barely see the key pad on the check-out computer.  Well, I labeled her as one of the little cars they're making now that's about a fourth of the size of a regular car.  When I see a big stocky guy, well, he'd fit into the "semi" category.  This has been more fun for me, and has put an entirely new spin on the human body.  It's so less judgmental.  After all, our society is supposedly so careful not to discriminate.  Well, what do they call it when they look unfavorably upon the 'flesh-enhanced'? 

So, if I'm categorizing everyone else, I'd best do the same for myself.  I'm probably a 4-wheel-drive SUV and will tend to changing my oil, filling my tank with premium fuel, and getting serviced regularly.  I'll drive the speed limit, watch for oncoming traffic, keep myself between the lines, and will be careful not to park myself under a tree where a bird could poop on my windshield!

Something to Crow About

Another perfect summer morning where I live.  We're having morning coffee outside on our screened patio, and the wrens and our resident cardinal are singing and the crows are cawing.  Some mornings the crows must hold conventions nearby us, because there's literally a cawing frenzy going on.

After listening to all this chirping going on around me, I couldn't help but Google crows and found out some cool things about them that I didn't realize before:

• A group of crows is called a "murder."
• Crows are found on every continent except Antartica.
• Crows have an exceptional ability to remember and pick a single human face out of a crowd.
• Each generation of crows is capable of building on an earlier generation's knowledge.
• New Caledonian crows are one of only three species, besides human, in the world capable of making tools.
• Crows live with a mated pair, their kids, and offspring from previous years in an extended family.
• Crows have different warning calls--one for cats, one for hawks, and another for humans--250 in all.
• Crows are omnivores and eat fruits, vegetables, and meat.

Several old sayings we use routinely without even thinking about it involve the crow.  Like referring to a crabby old woman as an "old crow."  A disgusting person as "crow bait."  We reference distance by "as the crow flies" when we measure by a direct line rather than take an established roadway.  "Eating crow" when we've made a mistake and have to take our words back.

There's the Crow Tribal Nation out in Montana.  I read that each year they celebrate Crow Native Days.  Part of the event is a pretty grueling Warrior Challenge, which is a race made up of three members.  The three have a specialty in this three-part race (canoeing, running, and relay horse racing).  The Warriors compete in all these races, kinda like the decathalon of the Olympics.  The only difference is the race starts and ends the same day.   Lots of other events take place during these Native Days that help instill and maintain pride in the Crow culture and its historical importance.  The dates of this celebration correspond with the anniversary of the Battle of the Little Big Horn in June. I think this would be cool to attend.  My heart has a very special place for the Native American people.  I often think about them having walked on the ground that I walk on every day and like always, wonder what remnants of the past are buried beneath my feet just waiting to be unearthed.

Well, it's about time I finish up my blog, and it may as well be with a crow joke.  So, here it is....

Two crows were sitting on a plow handle.  Suddenly they spotted a sandwich in the field.  They flew down and were delighted to find that it was Baloney!  They gorged themselves and flew back to the plow for a snooze.  Unfortunately, they were quickly awakened by a gunshot as the farmer tried to scare away the crows in his cornfield.  Our two friends tried to join the rest of the flock, but sadly they fell to the ground.

The moral of this story is, "Don't fly off the handle when you're full of baloney."

Sunday Contentment

Sunday mornings I can't wait to get out of bed and get at the Sunday Paper.  The Sunday edition has greater volume, most of which I don't read, but it's that big difficult crossword puzzle that I wait to locate among the many pages.  Maybe I've blogged about this before, but I love doing crosswords now that I have a website that can assist me if I absolutely cannot figure something out.  http://www.dictionary.com/ has a crossword solver that's really quite good.  I think it's got like over 2 million clues, and they keep them updated.  We're a split family on puzzles.  My hubby does the Sudukos and I do the crosswords and the jumble.  It's a great match.

Boy, another gloomy day hangs over us.  Dark and dreary.  We have two trees growing close to our house that are going to get the axe this summer yet.  One is right beside the kitchen window and the other is in the front of the house.  Both have outgrown their good days and need to be put to eternal rest.  We're not quite sure what we'll replace them with, but we'll find something equally as complementary to our home style as these trees have been.  I'd like a bush perhaps that changes to a brilliant color in the fall.  Will need to shop around on that one. I'm not up to speed on the world of landscaping.  Sounds like a mighty fine excuse for some day trips, if you ask me.

Maintenance is an ongoing concern for homeowners.  Always something or other needs repairing or updating to maintain the value of the property.  Now days people mow great portions of their yards, simply because they can with the tractor mowers.  When I grew up, we had one of those motor-less push mowers that cut like a dull knife, but it was all we had.  Back then we mowed only what was necessary and no one really cared what the yards looked like.  Some country farmsteads mow around the barns and other buildings, and their farm yards are neat as pins.  We saw one guy yesterday mowing a roadside ditch, and his tractor was at such a slant it looked like he was going to tip over.  That would scare me.  I'm not so sure if roadside appearance would be that important to me if there was a chance of someone getting hurt.  Tractors these days are humungous and better balanced or weighted to do such stuff, I'd suppose. 

My hubby bought a new-to-us weed eater a couple weeks ago.  His intent was to bring home a new one, but the dealer had this trade-in with few hours of use on it and in really nice condition, at a lesser price.  Hey, a deal is always a good thing so far as we're concerned. 

I'd best scoot and get to my crossword.  Our little family 3-some here is content as bugs.  The fuzzy one is sound asleep on her beddy-by, the hubby is engrossed in the daily news, and I'm blogging.  I'd say it's a perfect morning.....so long as the creek don't rise!

Roadside Splendor

Our roadsides are lined with lotsa wildflowers right now, and a day trip can feel like a visit to a botanical garden.  The Wild Chickory and Queene Anne's Lace are blooming.  Daisies of all varieties, white and yellow, add to the blues and yellows and complete the natural display. 

The last few years I've gotten into photographing wildflowers.  There's something about the flower that incites a sense of awe and makes me wonder, "how'd He do that?"  So many different colors and kinds shapes and sizes.  Our Creator really didn't have to give us flowers, but I think his intention was so we'd keep our heads on track and follow the amazing clues he left for us. 

Digital cameras are the coolest thing.  The old Brownie was the first camera I remember.  Then the Kodak came along.  We had to buy films that took only 12 or 24 pictures, the film had to be mailed in to be developed, and half the time the pictures were either off center, the people had red eyes, somebody's head was cut off, or something or other was wrong.  Yet, the price was the same.  Somewhere amid the stacks of pictures around here are probably 500 snaps of dolphins jumping out of the water at Sea World.  When we were first married and drove to Florida for vacation, I must've looked like a flash of fireworks as I kept flicking pictures of these big gray fish arching out of the water.  Kids now days grow up traveling and seeing other parts of the world, so it's no big deal for them to see a whale or a dolphin.  But, you have to remember, this little girl had only seen bluegill, catfish, carp, and trout before Sea World!

Went for a drive yesterday to a town about 75 miles from where I live, and the corn is tasseling and the oats is turned to gold.  When did this happen?  Crops are on the whole very healthy, and we pray no hail or wind will alter that.  Baffles my mind how the crops that grow right around us end up feeding the whole world.

Our village is quiet and content this Saturday morning.  Hopefully the working couples and their babies are able to sleep later than usual and maybe have homemade pancakes for breakfast.  Here I am in my sixties, and I still salivate at the thought of a platter of mom's homemade pancakes with maple syrup oozing and goozing down from a stack of em.  I seriously don't think I'm ever gonna grow up.

Telly Torture

Did you happen to watch the Oprah Winfrey show yesterday?  Her stage set was made out of Godiva Chocolate.  It was way cool.  After the hour was up, she and the audience were going to dismantle and start eating.  Was that clever or what!

Oprah is probably my #1 favorite talk show host.  She's genuine, and I don't see her as being pretentious even though she has every reason to be.  Maybe what I like best is how she relates to the audience who suffer from excess weight.  I personally like that about Oprah.  She's what she is and goes on being in front of the world despite her struggle with the scale.  She says it's all about liking oneself, and if we are able to do that, then others will follow suit.   

Daytime television is not something I've gotten into since retirement.  But, I was crocheting comfort crosses and the late afternoon programming gave me something to listen to.  After Oprah, then I put on the Food Channel and watched Paula Dean.  She, too, is a gal with an infectious personality.  She made a blueberry tort that had me ready to lick my tongue on the t.v. screen. 

On the whole, the telly doesn't get a whole lot of applause from this household, simply because we're down to a few channels out of about 120.  Don't know why, but I think it's probably because we don't relate to some of the programming.  It's generational gapping.  Public Television is great, Antiques Roadshow, Home and Garden, Food Channel, History, Discovery, Learning Channel, and, of course, the channels that show guys fishing and reeling in lunker walleyes and northerns, petting the flopping fish, wishing them well and throwing them back in the lakes.  Go figure.  Nascar and golfing are usually on during the weekends.  Racing is the one sport that puts my quills on alert.  It's the sound of the race cars more than anything.  Varoom, varoom, varoom for hours on end.  Makes me nuts!

We laugh at each other cuz both of us wait for the other to doze off.  It's gotten to be quite a competitive sport in itself "just-try-to-get-the-remote-out-of-my-clenched-fist!"  I swear my husband has built-in radar.  He senses my hand when it's real close and his eyes open up like he wasn't asleep in the first place.  Maybe after years of living together we find ways to annoy each other.  Tease and taunt, that's what it is.

The remote control is a funny little object, isn't it?  Just let it be lost and the whole household comes off its hinges.  Pillows fly, the recliners and couches start getting shoved around, and sheer panic sets in.  Cuz, wouldn't it be dreadful if we actually had to get out of our chairs and push a button?  How well I remember those days.  The first television at home was a console Zenith bought by my sibling, and so I didn't stand a frickin' chance of ever changing channels.  My time to have the t.v. to myself was right after school when the family was out doing chores.  I'd watch the Pinky Lee Show.  I can still hear him sing and dance, "Yoo Hoo, it's me, my name is Pinky Lee."     

Can anyone tell me why we have to watch Poker on the Travel Channel?  If anyone can shed light on this quandry for me, I'd be ever so appreciative.