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Nope, I did not break my leg. I just thought it was an appropriate picture for this entry's title and contents. I am overwhelmed. I am not unhappy, only feeling pressed for time. Aside from the Christmas hustle and bustle (which I cannot say I dislike!), there are some additional tasks I have been asked to do. I can feel myself being pulled in all different directions, and I reckon most of that is my own fault.
Due to my lack of skills working with html, I have two entries on my AOL journal (ME AND MINE ~ http://journals.aol.com/bedazzzled1/Bedazzled/entries/905 and THE GIFT ~ http://journals.aol.com/bedazzzled1/Bedazzled/entries/911/ ) that I have not put in here. I usually do that right away. But, I am still confounded by the operating techniques of this blog, and I was having trouble getting pictures placed in spots other than just the top. ME AND MINE had pictures scattered throughout it. ::sigh:: I love the graphics in my journals, and it disappoints me when I cannot use them.
Anyway, for the time being at least, I am going to take the easy and familiar road. And that is to post solely on my AOL journal. PLEASE COME VISIT ME THERE. The link is http://journals.aol.com/bedazzzled1/Bedazzled/. The entries will be the exact same as the ones I would be posting here, except the animations will be animated!
Should any of you wish me to link you on my journal there, feel free to tell me, and I will do so! I have not been able to figure out how to add links on this journal. See, I am html dense.
Warm hugs and wishes to you.
Ah, Thanksgiving Day is over. Snow swirled in the wind, chilling us but making us feel so alive. I received and gave bunches of smooches and hugs. Pictures were taken, much to the dismay of the children who were far more intent on wanting to devour their plates of food. Our meal was fabulous, the conversation alternated between interesting and entertaining and downright hysterical, and a good time was had by everyone. I have to be thankful for that...each and every day.
My father-in-law bought us a little "just because" gift. It is an antique glass Dazey paddle churn for making butter. (I collect antiques and already have a large wooden butter churn.) It is a pretty large one. Maybe four quarts. He and my hubby are going to make butter tomorrow. ::grin:: Isn't that cute? I was instructed to get online and find the directions for making it. I did. I found them. I printed them. Everything is all set for the big butter making ordeal tomorrow.
Now during the course of my search for the recipe, the phone rang. It was a friend of my husband's. He is also quite knowledgeable about antiques. He and hubby discussed the butter churn my father-in-law gave us. Those suckers are expensive. However, this friend happened to mention that the pint-sized ones are more rare and more valuable. Uh oh. Hubby's mistake was telling me that.
You know? Sometimes things are NOT our fault. Why? Simply because we do not want them to be! Such is the case in regard to the following. I began to search online for these rare small glass paddle churns. eBay had some. I want one. I did not until that friend had to go and say they are rare. Therefore, it is his fault. I began bidding on one. It was VERY rare~only one-half pint in size. I told the hubster that I'd probably only spend $50 and then I would stop bidding. No problem, said he.
This is only my second time bidding on eBay merchandise. I won the first time I did it. I found an antique spinning wheel that was beautiful. I was shocked when I was the winner, because I honestly had no clue what I was doing. I knew what to do this time around. The minutes began ticking down on this tiny churn, and I felt certain someone would top the maximum bid I had set. I got notification that it had, indeed, been topped. I had to hurry to place my new bid. I did, and briefly I was winning. Then another notification arrived saying that someone had outbid me, and I only had X minutes to bid again. I did. I went to $210. Mere seconds were left. I FELT that little glass paddle churn in my hands. And some prick upped it to $212.50. While I was frantically placing my new bid, time ran out. I was pissed. I lost. No teeny churn for me. On the plus side, no honked off hubby to chastise me for spending $150+ more than I said I was going to spend. ::laugh::
I do have my eye on another one that is pint-sized. It should be most interesting to see how high the price goes. Curious to see how high I go, too. I do not like to lose. This is almost like a game to me. And when it comes to game time, no holds barred. I am a competitive broad.
Well, my house is alive with the sound of snoring. Time for me to check back with eBay. I hope all of you had the happiest of days!
"Competition is the spice of sports; but if you make spice the whole meal you'll be sick." ~George Leonard
Our Thanksgiving Day is spent in a somewhat unusual way in comparison to the majority of families. It is a tradition we have had for a number of years, and so it has become very much a part of how we celebrate.
There was a time when all of us girls, our hubbies, and our children gathered at Mom and Daddy's house for the scrumptious Thanksgiving meal. We girls would help Mom by bringing side dishes and such and also assisting her in whatever way we could. The men did the manly thing...which was nothing. ::grin:: Except for the carving of the turkey which was Daddy's duty (he was a trip with the electric knife), the guys just waited for all of the food to be set out.
We always had a lot of fun. Our family gets along so beautifully. And my God, we laugh a lot.One year as Thanksgiving approached, Daddy came up with an idea. It was actually more of a decision than an idea. He informed us that he felt Mom did not get to fully enjoy the holiday, because she was so busy cooking and making certain everything was just so. Therefore, Daddy had made reservations for the Thanksgiving meal at a private club. We were none too sure how we felt about that. It seemed so un-Thanksgiving-like. We did find it sweet that his concern was for Mom, though. The reservations were for 11:00 a.m., and that would allow those who had in-laws in town to be able to have dinner with them later in the day. Since the club was more of a dressy place, we had to dress appropriately.
Thanksgiving Day arrived. We entered the ivy-covered old stone building and made our way to the dining room. Oh my! It was beautiful. Crystal chandeliers, a grand piano, floral arrangements, white tablecloths. But it was the food that sent everyone into orbit. There were massive tables filled with anything and everything you could imagine. The little ones thought they were pretty snazzy getting to choose what they wanted and how much. The idea of being able to return for more thrilled them. Waiters and waitresses saw to our beverage needs and the removal of our plates as we went up to get each course of food. I do not like stuffing. (Eh, I KNOW it is tradition, but it just holds no appeal to me.) BUT they had oyster stuffing. Mmm. Only my grandmother made that, and it was the only time I would ever eat it. That year, I piled some on my plate and loved it. The turkey was done to perfection, as was the ham and the salmon. The dessert table should have been photographed for a food magazine. It was gorgeous. All that food, all delicious, and I must have the world's smallest stomach. I cannot eat enormous amounts. When I am full, I am full. Daddy sat at the head of the table and literally beamed throughout the meal. He knew he had scored big time with all of us! Plus, he got to enjoy seeing his entire family at one heckuva long table eating and chattering and laughing. He was in his glory. And Mom was spared cooking and cleaning. It was a huge hit. It was decided we would repeat it the following year. (We have also had occasional Easter meals there, too.)
During the years Daddy was ill, we were able to take him there for Thanksgiving one time. He was in his wheelchair, and he had to be fed. But it kept him a part of something he began. Sadly, he was never able to attend again. It seemed he always developed pneumonia or was in the hospital at that time. Then, he grew too weak to even sit in a wheelchair. We still went to the club each Thanksgiving. I was the lone dissenter. I did not want to go if he could not join us. Majority ruled and I did not want to disappoint the rest of the family by not going, so I went.
We are once again going there this Thursday. My father-in-law will be joining us. He is planning on spending a few days here with hubby, the kids, and me. I do have a very good time. I love being with my family. But there is always a twinge I feel knowing that that one very special and very loved person is no longer sitting at the head of the table casting his twinkling eyes upon us. There is some comfort when I think he is probably smiling because we have kept his tradition very much alive.
Happy Thanksgiving to all of you and yours. No matter what, we have much to be thankful for.
"To speak gratitude is courteous and pleasant, to enact gratitude is generous and noble, but to live gratitude is to touch Heaven." ~Johannes A. Gaertner
Naughty or nice? Angels. For as long as I can remember, I have had an extreme interest in them. I am drawn to them in many ways. I wonder about so much in regard to them. What do they see? Are they truly around us all the time? Are we assigned one to watch over us? Are there good angels and bad ones? Or are they all good? How did they come to be angels? Can we become angels after we die? The Bible says no. I do not think I necessarily believe that. Is it possible your human friend is really an angel in disguise?
I collect angel figurines. Have for years. One of my Christmas trees is decorated with only angel ornaments. I use the word "angel" to describe some of my favorite people who I feel are extraordinarily kind and thoughtful individuals. I love to sketch them. Drawing their wings is fun. If you notice in the artwork of famous painters, angel wings are depicted in various styles. Of course...has anyone actually SEEN one and therefore is able to give a definitive description of how the wings of an angel genuinely appear? Nope, not to my knowledge.
One of my friends I refer to as my human guardian angel. She is beyond incredible. I believe she really is my angel. I am sure people will think I am loopy (okay, maybe I am...but, dammit, the woman IS an angel). However, there have been many occasions when this wonderful lady has had such insight and awareness of situations that are beyond commonplace occurrences.
She has numerous times warned me of dangers that will befall me or a member of my family if caution is not exercised. I recall her being agitated once by an overwhelming feeling that I or one of my sisters was going to have a car accident due to a bad tire. She urged me to have my car checked, as well as those of my sisters. Bingo. One sister did have a tire that was in very poor shape and certainly just an accident waiting to happen. She told me she had visions of a nest of wasps that she was worried would pose problems for me (I have bad reactions to stings, but she did not know that at the time). She wanted me to make sure there were no nests around the exterior of my house. Bingo again. Just a few feet from my patio door, there was a massive nest of German wasps. They had gotten inside the wall, too. By the time an exterminator came, I was killing them by the dozens INSIDE my house. I avoided getting stung, but I was definitely jumpy as all get out. There are many other examples I could give of how this woman has watched over me, but I think you get the general idea. It is the following, though, that cements in my mind that this woman is an angel...
She has never known my father, nor has she ever seen a picture of him. She does not know his name or anything about him. He was dying when I came to know her (and he did pass away about a month or so after I met her). Of course, I talked about him during that horrific time. She knew of the fierce love and devotion I had for him. After his passing, she would tell me about him. (Geez, I am welling up thinking about these conversations we had.) She saw him. She described his physical appearance to me. In detail. My hair practically stood on end listening to that. He was happy, she said. He also had some quite pensive moments. Sometimes she would see him sitting on a large rock with a dog next to him. I asked her to describe the dog. And in detail, she did. A more perfect description of the Airedale we used to have could not have been told. I had goosebumps listening to her. Another time she saw an older man next to my father. Again, I asked for her to tell me about his appearance. It was his father, my grandfather. (We are not talking vague descriptions here, people. These were specific and unique physical traits.) One time she described a woman who was with Daddy. The startling part about that was she mentioned a very unusual character trait along with the physical description. I was puzzled as to who the woman might be. I called my mother to ask her about what I had been told. Mom was stunned. The woman so carefully described was Daddy's mother, my grandmother. She passed away before I was born, so I never knew her. I had seen pictures of her, but I certainly knew nothing about her personality. Mom could not get past that this friend of mine could possibly be aware of such a key character trait in Daddy's mother.
This friend, aka my human guardian angel, has many times contacted me solely to tell me she has "seen" Daddy and that he is worried about one of us in the family. It never fails to amaze me that each time she mentions which family member he is concerned about, it is one who is going through a difficult time. There are also the additional glimpses into things she sees regarding Daddy and his presence. It is breathtaking many times when she reveals them to me.
At times, she almost freaks me out. She will tell me, in what I think is a very cryptic manner, of things regarding me. Things I will do but do not yet know of them. That drives me nuts, and I try to get her to tell me exactly what each thing will be. But, she will not. She gives me clues but not enough for me to get a handle on what it could be. She says she does not want to alter how it was meant to be by having me know of it. My actions need to be as a result of what I believe I should do, not what I THINK is expected. It is during casual conversation that I happen to mention this or that, and she will say, "Remember when I said you were going to do something that would..." And by God, it will all fall into place that it was what she had spoken of earlier. If we have not had any communication for a period of time, when we finally do talk, she freakin' KNOWS what has been going on. She also guides me by suggesting I pursue certain things. She encourages me. She is a voice of reason and calm. And she is so very nice and decent.
Yes, she is a human guardian angel who somehow got stuck being assigned to me. I am thankful.
"All God's angels come to us disguised." ~James Russell Lowell
AND
"Friends are kisses blown to us by angels." ~Author Unknown
It is Friday, MY day of the week. The day when I feel a spring in my step and certainly in my thoughts. It is a good day. However, today is the day I had been somewhat dreading in my HOW ARE YOU? entry of November 6.Yeppirs, it is my birthday. My husband filled my ears verrrry early this morning with the sound of him playing Happy Birthday on his guitar. My mother filled them with her singing Happy Birthday to me over the phone. I smiled big time both times. My kids? They have smooched me and hugged me and spoken their wishes for a happy day for me. My friends and sisters have sent me cards and gifts. Could I be any luckier to have such people in my world? Nope.
As much as I love giving gifts to others, I LOVE getting them, too. One of the presents I got today is some gadget that can be used to write and draw on digital photos. It is called Graphire4. It is a toy for me! I will be spending time learning how to use it, because I think it will be a blast. Along with the wireless mouse and the new keyboard I got, I imagine I will be in computer heaven.
Now that little girl pictured above is yours truly. I am guessing I was about five or six in that photograph. It is one of my all-time favorite childhood pics. Why? Because it is SO me. It still is. I was looking at it, and I started laughing...hard! I really have not changed much since then. (Eh, my maturity level has maybe gone up one or two notches, though.) I am still melodramatic when I speak. My hands are still moving along with my mouth. I am still a chatterbox. I still love denim skirts. That little flash of a bare shoulder is still one of my favorite looks~even though I am sure it was unintentional in that picture. I still love to have my shoes match my outfit. And I most certainly still love being happy and having fun.
You can pile on the years, but you just cannot change the inherent nature of a person. I love the little girl depicted above. She was and still is spirited. Good for her!
Happy weekend to you and yours. ::smile::
"And in the end, it's not the years in your life that count. It's the life in your years." ~Abraham Lincoln
I had a personal experience not very long ago dealing with the whoring of America. It angered me, and I felt as though there was no way to win against it. I cannot say I DID win, but I sure did not lose, either. The final score was Bedazzzled1 with one point...corporate whores with one point. Gee, I have to say I was pretty darn proud of myself.
I will be deliberately vague explaining it, but that is my right. After all, that has not been taken away from me by Time Warner (yet). Also, the story is an extremely personal one. Specifying names is not necessary to get across my point. It most assuredly happened, and it is completely true.
Once upon a time there was a man who worked at a bigggggg university. He really wanted to build a brand new multimillion dollar state-of-the-art facility to replace a similar one that did not have quite all the bells and whistles. It was to be one of the finest in this country. His rationale was that bigger means better and better draws more people and more people means more money coming in to the school.
Finding the other big wigs at the university to back his idea was a piece of cake. All they needed to do was figure out how to fund such a venture. And that is when they decided to whore out every part of the structure to anyone with enough money to buy it. Price tags were put on virtually anything associated with it. Construction commenced.
The big boys with their big wallets bought up the things with the hefty price tags. Those would be things like naming rights to the entire facility. Get the picture now? More and more such things were bought up, all so they could plaster the names of their companies on them. No big deal. Right?
WRONG. It was not okay with this broad...and not with quite a few other people who found the pimping ignored some of the rich history and tradition of the university in its efforts to fund this huge structure. Without the contributions (nonmonetary) and accomplishments of certain individuals, that big new structure would never have been an idea in anyone's brain. There was an outcry from groups of folks over that aspect. Naming rights for anything had to be BOUGHT even for the name of someone who was one of the main reasons, if not THE reason, success and prominence had come to the university in that particular area. Screw that.
I was disgusted. I had seen how other colleges had junked up every square inch of their allegedly beautiful buildings with advertising banners. Then to learn that there was not even going to be a gratis pass for the gentleman responsible for having the school be nationally recognized? Oh wait, there was to be a room with his name put on it where alumni could gather. Sorry, not good enough for me or for others. His name really should be slapped on the part of this giant structure that was his forte...his shining moments. But, alas, the tacky people who owned numerous companies and corporations felt it was more appropriate to honor their DISCOUNT FURNITURE STORE. Oh yes.......class just oozes out of their every pore, eh?
I began what I call a pen pal relationship with the man who had the idea to build this potential white elephant. I carefully penned my words to him after much thought. I listed the many reasons why I felt the gentleman I knew deserved more than a room in a massive structure. I received a letter in return detailing the costs of such a vast undertaking and the necessity for sponsors to help defray the expense. Okay, thanks. I responded by pointing out how in similar situations when new buildings were constructed that a person was honored by having the facility called by his/her name. We went back and forth like this for a time. It was always kept civil, even friendly. We began to occasionally speak on the phone about it, too. It all boiled down to the almighty dollar. To hell with tradition. To hell with history. To hell with anything that kept another buck from finding its way into the coffers of the university. Yet this man had nothing but the highest regard for the gentleman I knew.
I persisted. I told you I am one persistent woman. I was not lying. ::grin:: The day arrived when I felt a fair deal had been struck. I received a phone call from the man telling me he had awakened in the middle of the nite with what he felt was a perfect solution...and it had no price tag attached to it. I was all ears. (Let me just state here that money was not really the object when it came to honoring the gentleman in some prominent way. Principle was the issue. And principle defined the gentleman. To pay for him to be honored would have been whoring at its worst. Something he would have never tolerated.) The Board of Trustees had the final say in the approval of his idea, but he felt certain it would be passed unanimously. I was quite pleased, and I awaited his next phone call informing me whether it received a thumbs up or down from that unpredictable group.
All thumbs were up. And I was beyond excited. Now there is a road bearing the name of the distinguished, successful, kind, and decent man that runs parallel to this new building and leads to other roads. It is not just a short little street, and it regularly gets a hefty amount of traffic. But the joy for me is to see the street signs at the beginning and end of this wide road. For they hold the name of that wonderful man. And it is as it should be.
Let the big boys pimp out themselves. No one attending any function in that monster facility is going to buy discount furniture because the name of the store is written across a large portion of it. But EVERYONE will notice the name of the road they HAVE to take to get to the function and the functions taking place further down the road. ::big smile::
Yep, Bedazzzled1 was pleased with the outcome."Advertising is legalized lying." ~ H.G. Wells
I am dazed and confused. ::singing Led Zep:: Okay, I came over here because Lord Of Butter needs his chicken noodle soup (minus the chicken, noodles, and broth) that only I can make for him to keep him healthy...even though he says it tastes bland. I need to think about all that has taken place online within the past 24 hours. I also need to figure out how in the hell to get a double space in between paragraphs on this blog. Egads. I am sleepy. Nite nite.
