Visitors at my house

And here we are again....together for a ride on the fun-filled, triple dipped in psycho, train of thought that belongs to me.  I'm pretty sure you remember from my first blogs where I had a warning that you need to wear seat belts sometimes, while reading my stuff.  Even I never know where my thoughts...and my attention span...is going to lead us to.

I mentioned in my last blog about squatters.  It's pretty amazing that I remembered that without having it written down and not going back and re-reading my previous blog but I guess this has been in the back of my mind for so long, it's here to stay.  Or maybe I just need to "talk" about it and it will go away. 

Either way, you're here...I'm here...we're doing this.

A while back...quite a while back, actually...a friend of mine posted an article about these people finding a squatter that had lived in their home for quite a long time.  I always thought that was interesting that they didn't recognize for a while, that things may have been moved or sounds that maybe didn't "add up right."  I mean, these squatters HAVE to move their bodies at some point, right???

If you check it out, the stories are there.  Hundreds of them I suppose.  Here's one that I was recently reading:  Creepers...and that's what they are.  Most of them are just people that have had a run of bad luck and don't have a place to live.  I feel sorry for people that have to live on the street.  I don't care what their mental status is, everybody should have a roof over their head and some heat to keep them warm.  Especially when it's Arctic cold here, like it has been.

So anyway, this friend posted an article on Facebook about a squatter that had been living in the attic of a family's home for many, many months.  I read it and made a comment about how creep-tastic that would be to find out someone had been living with you and probably seen you running around half-naked...or even naked...or doing some things that are very private...and you didn't even know it.

I'm sure we've all had that feeling of "someone is watching me."  I know I have.  It gives me chills but I think it makes me anxious at the same time.

Like I said, this was quite a while back that I saw this article and I'm not going to go sifting through the hundreds of stories to find the exact one.  There are too many just like it anyway. 

Now, I have also mentioned before that we have had some kind of "spirit" that was in our home when we bought it.  I used to have to go in search of my lid to the laundry soap because it was never on top of the bottle but always in the laundry room.  The lights in our upstairs (what used to be the great room and will soon be our master bedroom) flashed many times in the night and not once did it ever concern me.  Quintin used to get up very early and go to work and I would hear someone going down the steps or up the steps (before we carpeted them).  It's pretty easy to tell if someone is going up or down by the way the sounds comes and goes. 

The first time I heard someone going down the steps, I jumped out of bed and ran downstairs saying "Who is here?"  And that was before I owned guns.  It never occurred to me to be scared of what it COULD be.  Anyway, nobody ever answered me and it continued for months.  I just ignored it eventually and didn't notice anymore.

I don't know if I ever told the story about one summer we slept on our livingroom floor.  We put down the futon mattress and a microfiber pad on top.  We only have one vent in the whole upstairs and that was in the great room.  NOT in our bedroom.  So it go very hot in there...even with a box fan and ceiling fan.  Quintin got up and had put Bear (my precious baby, may he rest in peace) outside before he went to work.  I was asleep on the mattress and I felt...what I thought was Bear...playing with my hands, that were hanging off the top of the mattress in front of me. 

I tried to grab him to make him lay back down with me and couldn't get him.  So of course I look around and he's nowhere in sight.  I go check outside and he's on his lead out there, playing in the back yard.  I will never forget that feeling of "something" in my hands. 

So recently, I have mentioned that maybe we have a squatter of-sorts in our home.  Quintin again, thinks I am very silly BUT one night he and I were in the kitchen making dinner together and we both heard a noise like someone was walking across the room above the dining room.  This is the room that is being transformed (at a very slow rate I might add) into our master bedroom.  We both heard it.  We both turned our heads.  We both leaned toward the door to see if someone had come into our house. 

Of course Quintin keeps talking away.  It only stumped him for a second and half apparently.  Not me.  I love this kinda stuff.  As he is talking, I walk to the door that joins the kitchen and diningroom and just stand there listening to him rattle on but really listening for more sounds from upstairs.  He eventually just stops talking because he doesn't realize what I'm doing and my back is completely turned to him at this point. 

Very quietly I say to him, "Keep talking."  The man never listens!  He just stares at me because now he doesn't know what to talk about.  Apparently whatever he was going on and on about before this second, wasn't interesting enough to keep talking about!  I don't hear anything so I turn to him and say, "You heard it too.  Why aren't you interested at all in what caused it???"  He just shrugged it off and said that the house was probably just settling. 

Settling.  Uh-huh.  You big chicken.

Yes, I went upstairs and checked EVERYWHERE.  Under beds.  Behind totes.  In the closets.  The only other place anyone could ever be in is the attic but he has that screwed shut so.....or does he?  Maybe they started out as screws and our visitor has altered it a little bit.  Hmmm I should check that out.  I love to freak myself out, can you tell?

OK, so the other instance that I will tell you about is this.  One day I was upstairs and Buddy was with me.  He doesn't let me get too far from his side because he wants to rub his nose into everything I do.  Literally.  I was cleaning our bedroom and changing sheets and pillow cases...just having a great day at home...when out of the corner of my eye, I see "something" move from my closet to the master-in-progress. 

Now, I know I saw something because Buddy saw it too.  He and I both walked into the other room to see what we had just "seen."  All I can tell you is that it was a big, dark "thing."  Of course we saw nothing.  Again, I checked under everything, inside everything, between everything.  Touching walls, doors, windows, you name it.  Nothing anywhere.

So what do you think?  What is your take on this?  Do you think I'm any more nuts than I was the last time we talked??  And again, this "person or thing" doesn't really scare me too much.  I'm just curious. 

Curious as to HOW they can survive in my home without us knowing it.  Curious to know HOW we don't know they have taken a shower...or that they stink.  Curious to know WHAT they eat because I find it rare to like what I keep in my own house. 

And the last thing I am curious about is WHY DON'T THEY HELP CLEAN THE HOUSE?  Heck, I may give them an actual bed to sleep in if they are going to pitch in.  And a towel and shampoo.  And I might buy them some good food and let them eat at the table like a normal person.  Seriously, what is going on in my house???

So there's my squatter story.  My co-worker thinks it could be a squatter but when I go back over how fast I would be on this "persons" tail as they went through the house, they'd have to know how to disappear into thin air.  But the more stories I read, I am finding out that these people hide in plain sight and that is why they don't get caught for a long time. 

I guess time will tell.  Maybe he or she will read my blog one of these days and pick up a broom when we are out.  Maybe I will come home to a shining, spotless house.  Or maybe I will just keep dreaming.

Until next time...keep warm and thanks for reading!

(Got a topic you want me to screw up and give my opinion on? Let me know.  My brain seems to be fried on the topic part these days!)

cankles and bat wings

Feels like forever since I"ve been here.  I almost feel like a stranger and need re-introduced to the "group."  Over the past few days...yesterday especially...I have thought about a hundred different things to blog about.  Of course now that I'm here.....all I got is "cankles."  Seriously.  That's the only thing I can remember that I was thinking about. 

I even remember telling myself to write it down or jot it on the notepad on my phone but NOOOOOOO, I didn't do it!  So cankles it is for now.

A few years ago, my cousin flew in from Vegas.  She had lost a LOT of weight and looked fantastic.  We had stopped and had lunch with my aunt...her grandma...and my cousin...her uncle, whom had flown in with her.  After lunch we were in the parking lot so she could have a cigarette and she was going on about how lucky I was that I could wear shorts.  I told her that with the weight she had lost, she should be wearing short skirts instead of long dresses and she proceeds to tell me that she can't because she has "cankles." 

Pretty sure I gave her the "deer in the headlights" look because I had never heard that word in my life, until that day.  Of course I blurted out "What in God's name are cankles?"  She's several years younger than me and was baffled that I had never heard of them.  She goes on to tell me that she ...........oh I just remembered the other thing I was going to talk about.....bat wings..........

Oh dear.

So anyway, she goes on to lift her dress enough to show her calves and ankles; to which she refers to as her cankles.  Apparently she cannot see where her calf ends and her ankle starts.  I don't even thnotice stuff like that when I see someone in shorts or a dress.  Well, I didn't up until then.  And I don't now either...unless I'm extremely bored and in a place to people watch.  Like the mall.  Because I can't stand going there so sitting is the best option for me on most occasions.

But I do keep an eye on my ankles a lot now.  I go to great lengths to make sure my husband knows where my calf ends and my ankle begins.  Of course he thinks I'm silly. 

Of course he does.

And then there are the bat wings.  Ugh this almost makes me shudder.  Someone once told me that I was pretty shallow to think that is a terrible thing to happen.  Maybe it isn't such a "terrible" thing to happen but that doesn't mean I want it.  The gal that told me I was shallow probably didn't ever want those crows feet that she has around her eyes either.  Yet she has them. 

I had heard of bat wings before.  A long long time before.  Back in junior high school when Mrs. McCune would write on the chalk board and her wings would erase what she just wrote.  We always thought that was funny when we were kids.  Don't get me wrong, she was one of my favorite teachers and although she could be pretty scary, I probably learned more from her than I did any other teacher.  Of course she did have us in the "fundamental years." 

Moving on.....

I never really thought about bat wings while I was growing up.  Unless you count the ones that were on the actual bats that would fly through our house when we lived at the jail house.  Yeah, I didn't quite go for that.  Hated those things!

Did I ever tell you the story about the bat in my bedroom in our current house?  Yeah...remind me to do that! 

My dear sister Kathy and I were at a motel.  I think it was when we drove to Cincinnati actually.  We had gotten a room at the Motel 6 and were changing and Kathy says something to the effect of "Look at my bat wings."  Pretty sure I froze for a second before we laughed...because it suddenly hit me that WE were the age now that we could be getting such things!  Oh. Em. Gee. 

"You don't have bat wings" I say with a laugh!  She peels off her shirt and grabs this fleshy part of her arm and squeezes it.  I giggled.  She giggled.  But then I had to peel my shirt off and check mine.  And here's what I found:

My pathetic little noodle arms wouldn't be able to withstand the WEIGHT of a bat wing!  I literally have noodles.  I'm pretty sure I have told you this a hundred times by now.  The good news is, I don't have bat wings and I'm pretty sure that I won't have.  But if I ever do, they will be the sorriest looking wings you'll ever see. 

I take that back.  You aren't going to see them.  I will wear jackets, sweaters, and long-sleeved shirts forever.  Yes, even in 100 degree heat.  I do that now sometimes.  It's the only way I can keep my feet warm all year long.  Trust me.  I know it sounds ridiculous but it's true.  August is about the only time of year I don't have a problem keeping my feet warm. 

Now that we have the cankles and bat wings out of the way, I will tell you that story about the bat. 

Quintin and I have lived in this house for 4 years now.  There is a church just across the yard from us and I'm sure there are plenty of bats that fly around there.  And as I have stated several times before, I sleep with three blankets...one being a comforter...one a heavy quilt that was made for my Grandpa Lock by a dear friend of his...and one a light blanket.  None of that really matters but I am too lazy to go back and delete it. 

I had to be up early one morning so I went to bed earlier than Quintin.  I had my three blankets on top of me.  I had a box fan blowing on me.  I had a ceiling fan on high directly above me.  Our bedroom window has room-darkening shades and curtains...because I don't want any light when I sleep if I can help it...and the walls are a nice chocolate brown.  I'm laying there trying to fall asleep and I hear it. 

You know that sound.  When a bird...or in this case...a bat...is flying over you.  I will reiterate here that I am terrified of things that fly.  Clarifying, animals that fly.  Insects, rodents,  whatever.  Fear kicks in and I am paralyzed at first.  What am I going to do? 

I throw the blankets over my head and kind of scream.  Of course nobody could hear me because I'm under all those blankets and well...how would someone hear me all the way downstairs??? 

Anyway, I'm under the blankets and I can still hear that thing flying around.  I pull the sides of the blankets up under my feet and under my sides and under my head.  Kind of like my own casket.  Well it didn't take long and it started to get hot under there and I KNEW I wouldn't be able to stay in there the whole night. 

Really fast, I stick my hand out and grabbed my cell phone off the nightstand.  The whole time I was thinking that either that thing was going to see me and light down on my hand or worse...it would be sitting on my nightstand and I would grab IT!  Oh dear, I'm surprised I didn't pee the bed.

I got the phone and I dialed Quintin's cell.  He was downstairs.  Directly below me.  But couldn't hear me.  Because there was only one vent in the whole upstairs and it was in the other room.  "Hello?"  I'm pretty sure he was wondering why I was calling him instead of just coming downstairs but no.............that wasn't happening!

"There's a bat flying around our bedroom and I can hear it and it won't go away.  Come get it!"  I'm pretty sure I sounded hysterical but I was trying to be calm so the bat didn't hear me and hide or anything dumb like that.  Next thing I hear is Quintin sitting up in his recliner and head upstairs.  Oh good, it's about over. 

He doesn't come right in and I'm wondering just WHAT is taking him so long.  Come to find out, he was looking for something to hit the bat with.  Good idea.  "Where is it at?"  I hear him say?  "I don't know but I can still hear it.  I'm not coming out from under these blankets until you get it!"  Suddenly the noise stops.  Phew finally.

"You got it!  Where was it?  Where is it?"  I am almost shrieking when I pull the blankets off of myself.  Quintin is standing there just laughing.  He can't stop laughing.  Of course that just makes me think that the stupid thing is right beside me or by my head or something and I start to scream and pull the blankets back when he says to me, "There isn't a bat!"

There was a bat, man!  I heard it flying around.  It flapped!  I didn't imagine that sound!  Nope, turns out I didn't imagine it at all.  Quintin flips the switch to the ceiling fan and tells me to just listen.  Yep.  The ceiling fan was making that noise.  Oh man I was so relieved!  The next day I cleaned that ceiling fan really good and I know that whenever I hear it again, it's time to clean the ceiling fan.

I wonder how long I can go until a real bat shows up and I don't think one thing about it???  Now I go to sleep with music blaring in my ears so I won't ever know it's flying around unless Quintin tells me or it gets inside my blankets. 

THEN I WILL PEE THE BED!!!

Until next time...thanks for reading!  And if I don't remember next time, someone remind me I have a squatter story to tell!!!

Never thought I was a foodie blogger

Facebook provides me with a lot of ideas that make my eyes light up and my ears perk just like my dogs do when I say the word "treat."  We all know I love baking and I love recipes so what better thing to do than to put some of these "easy peasy" recipes to the test.  

Refrigerated Oatmeal:

I didn't really have a "recipe" for this one.  Just a few notes with some pictures.  How hard can it be, right?  I didn't take any pictures as I made this but I wish now I had.  The notes said to take some oatmeal and put it in the bottom of a mason jar.  Pour milk over the oatmeal.  Since I didn't really know how much milk to use, I put in enough to cover the oatmeal.  After this, it says to use Greek yogurt because it's thicker than other yogurts.  I used Greek Chobani yogurt.  Blueberry for one and peach for the other.  

So the yogurt is added now.  I added a little bit of vanilla to the peach one.  Didn't really have any flavoring that I thought could improve upon blueberries as I love them so.  In the notes, it said to add some chia seeds.  I didn't have chia seeds nor do I plan to go buy them.  I have no interest in them, to be honest.  Put the lids on the jars and shake them well.  And I gave my arms a good workout on this.  Enough so that it got the attention of my husband.  After shaking well, add fruit to the mixture and stir well.  Close up and refrigerate for 8 hours or overnight.  Before eating, it recommends that you add a little bit of the fruit on top.  I didn't do this as I thought having it mixed in should be sufficient.  

I couldn't wait to get home from work that first morning and try this wonderful looking concoction.  I dig in and scoop a spoonful of the blueberry into my mouth, anticipating something so wonderful, I would have to scream it to the world.  

Nope.  That didn't happen.  What did happen was my mouth full of something that took me 2 days to figure out what it tasted/felt like.  But before giving up, I had to try the peach one.  To be fair, ya know.  So I tasted the peach one.  

Nope.  I want no part of this.  Didn't like it.  Don't want it again.  No thank you.  After a couple of days, I have come to the conclusion that it tastes like oatmeal that has soaked in cold, cold water for a long time and nothing else.  It was thick and just.....THICK.  Don't get me wrong, I could definitely taste the blueberries and the peaches; it just wasn't a good combination.  The texture was literally like I had soaked a cup of flour in a quarter cup of water. 

Big no.  But I wouldn't know if I didn't try, right?

  
This is what my finished products looked like.  PASS!


In my line of work, there are a couple of things that we try to completely stay away from when talking.  We try to refrain from saying "It's quiet," or "I'm bored," and it's just bad karma to say "nothing going on here tonight."  You are absolutely asking for it by saying those things.  So last night, was a "very good night" for us.  

When I wasn't skimming dealing with prisoners, I kept my phone hot by skimming Facebook and updating my "Hay Day" farm.  I have confessed my addiction for that game so it's no surprise I'm still at it.  Keeping my cows, pigs, chickens and sheep fed, milked, and/or sheared, as well as making dairy products, breads, muffins, cookies, pies, sugars, syrup, pancakes, hamburgers and on and on and on. Oh yeah, and planting, harvesting and storing all my pumpkins, indigo, sugar cane, wheat, corn, carrots, and soybeans.  And when my silo and/or barn gets full, I have to sell some stuff at my roadside stand.  I try to keep my prices competitive because I need to get rid of it, not hang onto it.  

It seems I have gotten way off topic here.  I told you I love that game.

While I was perusing the ole Facebook last night, I came across a recipe for "pancakes" that are flour-less.  Interesting.  Especially for a diabetic.  This particular recipe calls for only 2 ingredients.  Yes, two.  Makes me kinda skeptical, how about you?

So I decided I needed to try this recipe because I love pancakes and if I can find a way to eat them healthier, I'm all for that.  Oh yeah...the two ingredients?  One banana and two eggs.  That's it.  See why I was skeptical enough to want to try this?

After work I went directly to the store.  I got some ingredients for a couple different things.  It was so funny too.  I was checking out and the gal says to me, "I can just tell by the items you are buying that you are doing something fun."  I told her about the pancakes and she was very intrigued.  I told her I would let her know, next time I come in, how they turned out.

So here goes.....  I got home and got my two ingredients ready. 

  







At this point, I didn't really want to get my stand mixer out for these two ingredients and I don't even own a hand mixer so I figured I may as well give the ole noodles (my puny arms) a go at it.  

So I sliced the banana into the bowl, added the two eggs and "cut" them together.  It wasn't as bad as I thought it was going to be, either.  Just having to guess though, I would say that the batter is not supposed to have any lumps in it BUT the best pancake batter does have lumps in it so...maybe I am changing my mind on that.  

At this point, the batter is runny and I am having my doubts about how this is going to turn out.

This may look like three very poorly shaped pancakes but what really happened was me using a 1/2 c. measuring cup to pour the batter and it made a really big pancake.  Like I said, it's runny!  When I flipped it over...thinking "what in the world was I thinking?"...it fell apart.  Boo.  I was a little sad for a moment but it conveniently broke into three parts so that was okay.  These pancakes didn't raise up like normal pancakes do BUT they do raise a little.  All I could smell was eggs though.  I was almost laughing at myself for thinking this could even work.  

And here we have the finished product.  The first thing I did was take a bite of the pancake all by itself.  Nothing on it at all.  It had the texture of a scrambled egg but the taste was FANTASTIC!!  Tasted just like a banana pancake for real.  I was quite surprised and pretty pleased.  I didn't stop there.  I took some peanut butter...as seen in the picture...and put a little bit on a bite and it was like heaven in my mouth.  If you like peanut butter and banana sandwiches, you will flip (pun intended) for these!

Next was the syrup...sugar free in our house is the only way to go.  I didn't even use very much.  Nothing like I do with regular pancakes.  Well...here's what happened.

A mouth watery goodness of love and smiles, wrapped up in a healthy, and simple pancake.  This recipe is definitely a keeper and I don't ever have to feel guilty again about joining my husband when we have breakfast for dinner.

If anyone in your home loves pancakes and likes bananas even a little bit, please make this.  I think you will be pleasantly surprised and your body will thank you.  Water based products and protein packed!  What more can you ask for???

And now...as if all of this hasn't been exciting enough.....I have one more delectable delight to share with you.  I'm sure some of you have seen something like it floating around the internet.  I saw it on Pinterest first and then it popped up on Facebook.  I don't even know what the name of them are so I made up my own.  Boats.  My first favorite I have called Tuna Boats.

These are my ingredients.  The only things I didn't get in the picture was the salt and pepper.  I always, always, always use tuna packed in water.  Never oil.  For any reason.  Open your can of tuna and drain very well.  Sometimes I use a red onion and sometimes a white.  This time I used a quarter of a medium sized white onion.  1 roma because it will go a lot further than you think it will.  I used exactly 2 tablespoons of Miracle Whip.  You can use more.  It depends on how creamy you want yours to be.  I want mine to be healthier so I stopped at the 2 tablespoons.  It was quite enough for me.  

As you can see, I peeled the skin off the cucumber.  You don't have to do that.  It's really the choice of the consumer.  Sometimes I like the skin on my cucumber...like when I'm soaking them in vinegar and water to eat...but not for this.  Cut the cucumber in half and then cut those two pieces in half.

Scoop out the seeds, leaving an indention like a "boat."  I used a spoon to do this.  Next, spoon the tuna and veggie mixture into the cucumber boats.  Sprinkle with salt and pepper (which is optional) and garnish with shredded cheese.  

Mmmmmm these are FABULOUS!  I made them up and plan to eat one every two-three hours.  This is great for my diabetes and great for my caloric intake.  And the cucumber has so much water in it, this is a definite win-win!  

I hope you try this because I think you are going to love it.  After this mixture is done, I am going to use some "flavored" cream cheese and turkey in a boat.  The possibilities are endless!  Let me know what you think of them.

And I will close this out now.  If there is something, in the future, that you want me to try out for you...let me know.  Let's not make it too extravagant though, please.  -_-

Until next time...I hope you enjoyed today's blog and thanks a million for joining me today!

Where do these things come from?

I tell ya what, it's a good thing we have a King sized bed.  The other night...only God knows what time it was...I was in a deep sleep, on my right side, with my back to my husband (and you are about to see how this is a good thing) and his hand comes slamming down on the bed between us.  I actually FELT the wind from the force of his hand.  When something like this happens, it's amazing how fast a fat woman can move but I flipped over in one maneuver, ready to spring into action to defend my husband...to see him laying there fast asleep.  Oh great, he's dreaming again. 

"Quintin, what are you dreaming about?"

Come on, you can't tell me that someone that put THAT MUCH force into ANYTHING, can sleep through it!  Can they???  Wait, I forget we're talking about my husband.  Silly me.

"Quintin!"

I grab his hand and give it a little squeeze.

"What were you dreaming about?"

He sends my hand flailing with the force equal to Chuck Norris kicking someone's ass.  Now he has ME completely woken up and I'm not happy about what just happened.

"What the hell are you doing over there?  Why did you do that?"

"Budha (nickname for our little Buddy) won't leave me alone."

"Budha is downstairs."

"No he's right here and he's driving me crazy."

"You are driving me crazy and it's the middle of the night and Budha is in his kennel."

"That's not true."

I'm still not sure what part he thought was untrue.  It took me a long, long, long, long, time but I got back to sleep.  The next morning when he came downstairs, the first thing I said to him was, "If you ever hit me in my sleep, or throw my arm like that again, I will bust you up before you even know what hit you."

OF COURSE he didn't know what I was talking about but he did admit to dreaming about the dog trying to bite his hand when he was trying to sleep.  Duh!


The other morning, my big, strong husband was a little perturbed at me because I made him get out of bed before he had planned to get out of bed.  It was, afterall, close to 11:30am and I wanted to get the bedding all washed. 

"I need you to get up so I can change the sheets and wash these."  I got some kind of groaning and moaning so I proceeded to strip my side of the bed and start taking my pillow cases & sheets off.  As soon as they were off my side and had flung across the bed toward him, guess what he did?  Wrapped up in the sheet and turned over. 

Seriously???

"It's after 11:15 and you need to get up.  I can't help it you stay up all night."  He finally gets up and shuffles off to the bathroom.  My bathroom, mind you.  Seems he likes this new lavender one that was created just for me........... I should have known.

I throw the bedding down the stairs and start tidying up around our room.  Well, as I pulled a tote away from the wall, there lay a dead mouse.  I picked it up by the tail and went to the bathroom.  "Look what I found in the bedroom?"  He sticks his head out and says "Ewwww!"  Seriously dude? Eww?  You're a grown man and I'm dealing with a dead rodent.  Psh!  There will be no more mice crapping on MY blankets in the middle of the night!

I finally got all the Christmas "stuff" put away around the house.  No, not the decorations.  I didn't do any of those this year.  I didn't have time.  What I mean is that I got all the wrapping papers, bows, ribbons, tape, scissors, paints, glues, sparkles, boxes, bags, tissue paper and anything else that accompanies the present making process.....away!  All put away!  What a relief! 

And just in time for our last family Christmas at Grandma's house!  I never even thought about what I would be bringing home to add to that stash!  Ugh, I should have waited!

Let's see, there were 12 adults and 9 kids there and we had 6 different kinds of soup.  SIX!!!  That's what I love about family dinners though!  Always too much food and you come walking out 35 pounds heavier and your cholesterol has jumped 14 points.

I made up a game for everyone to participate in.  I put each person's name on a slip of paper and gave everyone an envelope with the slips of paper in it.  Nobody got their own name, of course!  On that slip of paper, you had to write ONE thing you love about that person.  No signing of names, nothing.  And some of them (boys) complained about having to do homework but in the end, it was worth it. 

We all took our envelopes home and read, at our leisure, what others love about us.  Some of mine really made me laugh.  And I will keep these forever, even though I don't know who wrote what.  Except for a couple of them.  My husband, who kinda gave his away..."I love how you have made me a better man," unless that was one of his cousins  -_- and Grandma simply because she has unmistakable hand writing.

We do family gifts and Grandma got Q and me.  And she made my Christmas!  She got me some new baking sheets...which I need so so so badly.  She also handmade a doily for me.  Not just any doily either.  A great big huge orange doily!  Oh dear, I am so in love with it.  I look at it everyday and run my hand over it.  She says to me, "Just set it on one of your tables."  Excuse me Grandma???  I think not!  THAT is going in a picture frame and will be hung in my orange kitchen.  I am so in love with it and knowing it was made by her loving hands, makes it that much more special.  I sure do love that woman.

Quintin got a cool magnet thingy that I can't wait to use!  He got some camo lounge pants and a couple new camo caps also.  He scored too.  I wonder if he'd recognize me wearing those pants.............

We had a white elephant gift and I will be the first to admit that I hate this.  My side of the family used to do it and after a while things get traded back and forth and to make things worse, when I'm done with something, I get rid of it.  I don't keep it around.  Good?  Bad?  Doesn't matter because that's what I do.  So I had to enlist the help of my trusty elf to get me something from her "garage sale" stash for my white elephant.  Turns out Grandma got it and she thought they were adorable.  Of course, I did too and almost kept it for myself and wrapped up some masking tape.....but I didn't.  They went to the perfect person.

And I was like a kid in a candy store upon opening my white elephant gift!  Backing up a bit, we had the chance to trade out our gifts before opening and I didn't want to part with mine.  I couldn't explain it but I just stood there thinking, "Please don't want my gift.  Please don't want mine."  Phew!  Oh the stress!  Next year I will have stress relievers in my pocket!  So anyway, I got a little snowman figurine which is very fitting because I truly love snowmen.  I also got a couple of coffee cups.....me and coffee are a huge team together.  And then there was a pot holder with an "olden day" Santa Claus on it.  Score.  Who needs pot holders as much as I do?

As I am telling everyone what I got, Angie says, "There's a cookbook too!"  I pert near dove into that little Christmas bag.  If there's anything I need more than pot holders and cookie sheets, it is another cookbook!  Matter of fact, I think tomorrow it will come to work with me so I can go through it.  There was a joke made about a possibility of monkey being an ingredient on some.  I mean, who knows what people will share, right?  I'll let you know if I find one.  The recipe, not the monkey!  Oh hell, I'll even let you know if I find a monkey!

Quintin got a quilt that was made by his great grandmother and he was over-the-top ecstatic about that because he doesn't have much from her in his collection of "physical memories."  He also got this little journal that his great grandpa had started back in 1912.  It was pretty cool.  He noted the day the Titanic sunk and I was exhuberant about that.  I mean, I realize that the Titanic sunk.  But to see it in someone's writing as it sits in your hands.  That means MOUNTAINS to me.  Simple things in the journal like them getting a new horse, or how they went and helped a neighbor or a relative and got a few bucks for doing it.  The day the dog died.  How they got to plant a whole row of potatoes just for helping out.  They may have been "simpler" times but they sure weren't simpler people.  This was a generation that worked hard for EVERY single thing they had.  And they were so proud of their stuff. 

Quintin has decided that he will make a shadow box to keep all of his memories in.  That is something we try to be really good about.  Keeping the old memories in good shape and prideful.  Our front porch was open when we bought the house.  Thanks to Quintin's aunt, we were able to tear the delapidated old garage down out at great grandpa and grandma's house and use that to enclose the porch.  It's an amazing porch.  When you can see it.  I mean, when he doesn't have his "crap" strung all over it.  He put a bench/storage area in it and the walls are covered with stuff from his grandparents and great grandparents.  One thing that my man is proud of and that is his family.  I just wish sometimes, that some parts of his family worked out better, in his favor, than they did.  I try hard to make up for that but I can only do so much.

I had mentioned somewhere...I know I did on Facebook but can't remember if I did here...that I applied to go back and finish my Business Administration degree.  Well last night I was finishing up some paperwork that I had filled out incorrectly...and with classes starting on the 21st, felt like I should get done.  It appears it isn't my time to go back to school yet.  It isn't what I'm supposed to be doing.  Well, I don't know that for sure but the chances of me getting any financial assistance to help pay for my classes are slim.  I think.  I haven't gotten the official word yet.  These "facts" are based on numbers crunched in my own head and well.....we all know math isn't my strong suit!  And it's okay.  One of the girls at work today asked me if I was disappointed or sad about it and after thinking on that for a little bit, I have decided that I am neither disappointed OR sad about it because that just means I am not meant to do that.......at this time.  Maybe someday and maybe not.  Maybe I will just go a whole new way and change majors someday.  Who knows.  But if I do not get the assistance I need for school, in my heart, that means I am meant to spend that time helping others. 

Because that my friends, is what life is really all about!  And before I close, I want to add that January 17th - 25th is the National Pay It Forward event.  "Beginning Friday Jan. 17 through Sunday Jan. 19, 2014 we are encouraging everyone to "Pay It Forward". We are asking everyone to do at least one random act of kindness (more than one is even better). All you have to do is do something for someone or some organization without expecting anything in return. Pay for a stranger’s meal, send someone a card, volunteer some time. The ideas are endless. All it takes is a spark to get a fire going. By clicking join, you can make a difference and who knows, maybe chan...ge someone's life."

This is an actual "group" on Facebook and if you want to join us, please please do!  You don't have to do a lot.  Just SOMETHING.  And you don't have to do it everyday if you can't or don't feel it.  Just ONCE is enough to make someone else's day!  If you can't find it and want to join, let me know and I will send you an invite (if I know you). 

For those that are wanting to get in on my "Mission" project, let me know.  I have had some wonderful donations come in so far.  We have outgrown the car and will definitely be taking the pickup.  My goal is to have the back of the pickup filled to the top AND the trailer too!  Please give to this cause...or one like it.  These missions really do help a lot of people.  Something as simple as a package of toilet paper is appreciated beyond measure.  Kids need clothing.  Everybody needs a blanket.  Tooth brushes, toothpaste, deoderant.  Just think of the things you NEED to get through a whole day.  Each and every one of us really can make a difference. 

That's it.  That's all I got at the moment.  I know I had more but I have misplaced it.  Along with my mind and my sanity.  Until next time friends.....thanks for reading!

Another day at the office

Tonight was a night that didn't have to happen for some. As a e911 dispatcher, in order for us to have a good busy day, someone has to have a bad day. And as bad as it sounds, in order for us to have a truly busy “good” day, someone usually has to die. We'd all rather not have those “good” days, trust me. Not that I look forward to the nights when it's so boring, I have to make my own entertainment because I honestly don't. But I don't want someone to be in pain for me to keep busy either. Stupid yes, dead no.

A call comes in and you hear someone tell you that they just witnessed a horrific wreck...but yet they didn't witness it at all. Those are the ones that make your heart beat a little bit faster and wonder “what the hell??” all at the same time. When someone tells you that they just saw a car traveling easily 100+ mph and they not only went off the road, but went through a median, crossed another lane of oncoming traffic...luckily not hitting anybody else... and then kept going into another ditch, through brush and in a field where the “witness” couldn't see from the road exactly where that car went, those are the calls that make you wish you could conference call a dozen people at a time.

Luckily, I didn't have that call but it did come into my center. My co-worker tonight answered that first call and we immediately went into dead-serious mode. Pardon the expression but that's what we do. We can go from uncontrollable laughter to somber and quiet in a second flat. As she is getting information from her caller, I am at my desk taking information that I hear her getting so that I can be taking my own notes to pass along.

I remember in telecommunication school they told us that we would learn to listen to multiple conversations at the same time. I find myself doing it at restaurants a lot. And I try to figure out stories of people. So as I am listening to the traffic on the radio, taking my own 911 calls, I am writing down information that I am overhearing her say, as well as writing down everything my caller is telling me, to pass along to my Deputy.

Get law enforcement on the way. Get the proper counties contacted. Get an ambulance started. And the whole time you are doing this, you don't think about any of the what-if's, the what-happened's, the what-the-hell-were-they-thinking's. No, there's no time for that. Get as many helpers there that you can and get them there as fast as you can.

And you pray. And you ask God to be there with whoever is involved. Anyone from the injured to the responding officers to the EMS crew to the fire departments that are responding, as well as the traffic that is rubber-necking to see what they can see. You pray for anybody that is going to have any affect from this whatsoever.

And then you get some information where a child is involved. Maybe more than one child. And your heart sinks and your head goes dark. And I don't know about any other dispatchers but I get pissed off about this time. With this particular wreck, I kept thinking “How selfish of that person to take the lives of children,” and “If he/she wanted to kill him/herself, that's their business but you don't take others with you. You just don't!”

And then you pray again. You pray for the mothers and the fathers, the grandmas and grandpas, the sisters and brothers, you think about the aunts, the uncles, the cousins. You immediately think about the “what if that was my...” and you keep praying, trying to keep your emotions in check the whole time. You can't let go because when you do, that's when the phone rings, or an officer wants to talk to you on the radio, or another county needs your assistance, or even another 911 call.

As I mentioned above, I was not working alone and there was no way I was going to show any emotion while I was at work. No way I was going to crumble and in any way drop the ball. My sidekick though, she had a rough time. She was so strong through the whole thing and when it was over, was able to let her emotions loose. I was so proud of her. She did an amazing job tonight. She was the reason I couldn't crumble. She has kids and a grandson and I know what was going through her mind. Her kids, her grandson, out on the roads tonight when she didn't want them to be out.

And I prayed. I prayed that God watch over my friend beside me that was struggling at the moment. I prayed for her children, her grandson. I asked that God watch over them because this was enough of a shake-up for her for tonight. And as soon as she let it out, she was good. She did her emotional venting and was back to herself.

I could easily go back to Ashley's car accident every time we have an accident but I don't. I can't. I would never get past the first phone call. Maybe it has something to do with being around this type of stuff all my life. I don't really know. Maybe it has to do with me being afraid once my switch turns on, I won't ever be able to turn it off. And the last thing I want to do is go through those emotions again and bring up all those horrible memories of her accident...her passing. It's easier to be at peace with those moments and memories.

I heard things on the phone tonight that I never wanted to hear. I heard details that I didn't want to think about someone going through. But...and this is going to sound awful again...when I found out no children were involved, I felt relieved. The anger seemed to subside. When I found out that everybody involved was old enough to make the choice to get inside that car, the anger lessened. A little bit. But it still sits in the back of my mind that the passengers in this vehicle tonight had no control over the driver and how fast he was going.

Did they think it was fun to go that fast? Were they drunk? Were they high? Did someone have a heart attack or a seizure behind the wheel? Were they carrying out a suicide pact? What were they thinking as they were crossing those roads? Just what were they thinking???

So many unanswered questions. Questions that I will never have the answers to. Many people have asked me how I can do a job that I never know how things turn out. Sometimes I do know how things turn out, usually I don't though. My job isn't to know that. My job is to get people the help they need, whether it be the cops, an ambulance, a fireman, or even a medical examiner. In this case, I know how it turned out. BAD. But still so many questions. Questions that will never be answered.

So I pray and move on. I have thanked God for the lives that the deceased had before their time expired here on earth. I mean, they had to have made someone happy at some point, right? Yes, I truly believe the answer is yes. They were someone's child. They may have been someone's parent. Someone's spouse, grandchild, sibling, cousin, uncle, nephew, friend. No matter who they were or what they did, I am safe in the thought that they were loved by someone, somewhere.

A lot of people think all dispatchers do is sit around and look at the internet all day, occasionally picking up the phone and checking in with our cops. Well that's not all we do. We answer a lot of phone calls. We answer a lot of calls ranging from “how are the roads?” to “what time does the parade start?” to “help me, I'm stranded on the side of the road with a broken down car,” to “please help me, I can't breathe.” And the calls get worse some days. And they are better some days.

We do our best to get you the emergency services that you NEED. Whatever that may be. We have feelings. We aren't robots on the end of that phone. We have a heart and we have empathy and can sympathize with most people that we talk to. We are human. Just like you. We have good days and we have bad days. I try to keep the bad out of my workplace because it's so easy to have enough of that at the drop of the hat.

So hug your kids. Hug your grandkids. Hug your spouse. Hug your siblings. Tell your loved ones you love them because we never know when it will be the last time. I know that is said over and over but it really is true. Don't take anybody for granted.

Until next time....I love you.....and thanks for reading.

On a mission

Years and years ago, when I was completely enthralled with the man who was one day going to be my first husband, we ran off to Sioux City to live.  He assured me it was going to be great.  We would live with his friend, the friend's wife and their 3 children.  Things would be hard at first but we would make it.  We would be fine.  And I was willing to take that chance.  After all, this was the man I wanted to marry.....

Off to Sioux City we go.  This girl was scared to death.  I had never lived in a city before and I really hadn't gone away from my family for very long either.  A new adventure in a new city with new people.  Nobody knew me.  Nobody knew my family.  Nobody knew anything about my past.  And the best part for me was that nobody cared.

When Carlos said it was going to be hard, he had definitely underestimated.  The first night that we got to Sioux City, we didn't have a place to stay.  The friends that had brought him to get me, didn't have any space in the "room" they were staying in.  Yes, two adults and three small children (all under the age of 4) living in one room.  Sharing a bathroom, a kitchen, a refrigerator, with many others that rented the other rooms.  There were no livingrooms or diningrooms.  Only the one bathroom, the kitchen and all other rooms were rented out for sleeping/living. 

Carlos and I spent the first night in the backseat of their car.  It wasn't cold out yet so it was okay.  And we were in love so it was alright.  I mean, we all have to make compromises, right?

Ahhh, looking back I see all these little red flags that pop up.....

The next day, we take Carlos and his friend Flaco, to their job.  Come to find out, what their "job" was, was going from place to place that hired out daily.  So he really didn't even know day to day if he had a job.  But that day, he had a job.  So there they went.  And there I was.  Stuck with a gal and her three children that I knew nothing about.  For eight long hours at least.  I knew their first names at this point and that was it. 

We didn't go back to the place they were staying.  Matter of fact, looking back, we never went back to that place.  How odd.  It has been years since I have even thought about these memories so bear with me. Anyway, we spent that first day going to visit friends of hers.  She would introduce me and then that was about all the part I played.  I helped with the kids of course, because I at least knew HOW to do that.  The gal and her friends spoke Spanish...very rapid Spanish...and that left me completely in the dark.  So I felt more like the nanny. 

But the kids were great.  Very cute and very cuddly.  I wonder whatever happened to those kids.  The oldest girl was named Jackie...an easy name for me to remember.  And the baby boy was named Arthur.  I can't, for the life of me, remember what that middle girl's name was.  I wonder.....

So I was very happy when, at noon, we headed over to where the guys were working.  There was a food truck there and they got us all something to eat.  At this point, I was starving...or thought I was.  I hadn't had a shower and felt awful and embarrassed.  Carlos assured me that when he got off work, we would have a place to stay and told me not to worry.  He would take care of me.

After work finally came and we headed straight for this motel...something in looks similar to the Bates motel.  A very friendly man, that I had a hard time understanding, ran it and he kept it pretty clean.  It wasn't in the best part of town either and beggars can't be choosers.  Carlos paid for one room for one week.  Fine by me.  At least now I would be able to shower and relax. 

Didn't take long to realize that the one room was for all seven of us.  Yikes!  Carlos and I got one bed.  Flaco..and his wife Lisa...whose name I just now remembered...got the other.  The man gave us extra blankets so the kids could have beds on the floor.  We had a little fridge & microwave in the room so we thought we would be okay for the week. 

Everynight we ate at a different Mexican restaurant and I loved it.  I learned a lot about food.  About what I loved and about what I didn't love at all!  So that was how we spent our time.  The guys working and we just went and visited people or walked around stores all day.  Like I said, Carlos paid that first week, and then Flaco paid the next week.  So on and so forth.  Sometimes we would go where I called downtown...and I'm sure it's not considered downtown at all...and hang out at a couple of bars and play pool.  I got to know one of the owners of one of the bars.  Although I can't remember her name right now, I can picture her.  She was a beautiful woman inside and out.  She was a devoted mother and had a caring heart. 

This downtown area wasn't far from the mission and I always wondered if we would ever end up living there.  The thought scared me.  A lot.  I'm not gonna lie to you.  I would have to say that the whole 29 days that we "lived" in Sioux City, Iowa, we never happened upon anybody that was rude.  Or mean.  Or scary.  Only the circumstances were scary.

Toward the end of my life in Sioux City, the guys were at work and I was with Lisa.  We had went to Shopko.  I was just strolling around, looking at things, because I didn't have a dime to my name...when all of a sudden, on the loudspeaker, I hear "Shellie Weed, please come to customer service."  Oh boy, this can't be good.  Who knows I'm here and why do they want me???  Honestly, at this point, I was tired of the way we lived and deep down inside, I had wished my parents had found me and came to take me home. 

When I get to customer service and give them my name, they gal nods toward a door and tells me to go in there.  I walk in and there sits Lisa with 3 crying babies.  Crying very loudly.  It seems that the reason we had been "window shopping" everyday was so Lisa could shoplift clothing and items for her kids.  She would have baby Arthur in his car seat and when she would get a small stack of clothing, pick him up in his blanket, lay the clothes in his car seat and then lay him back down. 

I was mortified and I remember thinking "my dad would kick my ass!"  So Lisa gets hauled off to jail and I am stuck, in Sioux City, Iowa, where I don't know a soul and barely know how to get around and to top it all off, I have three screaming babies with me.  Oh boy.  I will never forget the embarrassment I felt when I pushed that cart out of the store with those babies going at it.  Everybody stopped and looked at me.  Oh God Bless us all!!

I made it from there to where the guys' worked though.  Terrified, shaking and wanting to leave this town.  I was mad at Carlos for leaving me with someone who would do such a thing and I was mad at myself for not asking more questions about WHY we were going shopping when we never had more than a few dollars to spend.  Duh!  Naive naive naive!

Lisa was released that evening and the next day, guess where we go.  Yep, right back to Shopko!  I couldn't believe it.  This time it wasn't just me, her and the kids.  It was ALL of us.  Must have been a Saturday or something because they weren't at work.  So when we got inside and she took off on her own, I just waited toward the front of the store.  I told Carlos that I had a bad feeling and he told me it would be okay. 

It wasn't long before I heard those same words come over the loud speaker.  "Shellie Weed to customer service."  I just looked at the gal and said "In there right?"  pointing to the door.  She nodded yes and in I went.  Lisa and the kids again.  I was furious.  They said that the ONLY reason they knew to look for Lisa was because security saw me and remembered me because I was so embarrassed the day before.  They told Lisa what a bad friend she was to me.  This whole time, I am wondering why I got called and not her husband! 

Well guess what???  When they called my name over the speaker, Carlos and Flaco headed straight for the car!  Thanks jerks!!!  By this time I have had it.  I told Carlos that I wanted to go back to Bedford and never come back to Sioux City. 

The next day, Lisa dropped us off down at the bar and left.  I went into the bar where I had made friends with this bartender and told her I needed enough cash to get two bus tickets out of here.  Told her everything that happened and she asked me if I had anything to sell.  I pulled out of my bag, all of my music CD's.  And I had quite a few of them from years of collecting.  She ended up buying enough of them to pay for two bus tickets and a little bit left over.  That's all the help I needed.  We went to the bus station and got two tickets to Omaha.  But all of our stuff was in the motel room and we didn't have a car. 

With the money left over, Carlos had barely enough to take a taxi to get the stuff and make it back just as the bus was getting ready to leave.  I was sure I was taking that trip alone.  And in hindsight, I should have.  But I guess all of these experiences helped shape me into who I am today. 

We get to Omaha and the snow is coming down heavy and fast.  Even if we had more money for a bus ticket, they were all suspended until morning.  Now I'm stuck in Omaha and don't know what to do.  I called my cousin's house and got her husband...who was in the process of being her ex-husband and I didn't know this...and he wasn't coming out to help.  He was actually quite rude, which took me by surprise. 

Some people that worked at the bus station gave us enough money for a taxi to slide us over to the Mission.  That was so nice of them. And I was scared to death.  I had heard stories about things that happen in these places.  And we didn't have much left on our backs for someone to steal.  On the way over there, I had every bad image go through my head that I could think of. 

When we reached the Mission though, we were welcomed by the friendliest people.  They told us that if we weren't married, we would have to sleep separated.  I quickly lied and said we were married because I didn't know what I was going to get myself into and didn't want to be there alone.  We were given a hide-a-bed that night.  I'm not sure that I slept much at all but I was grateful for the bed, the pillow & the blanket. 

The next day, we got up and went out to breakfast.  I asked if I could help in some way and they told me I could clear tables when people got finished eating.  And there were many people.  And every person there was as grateful as I was, to be in that place.  And so I did.  Cleared tables, talked to people, laughed, heard jokes, told jokes.  It was comfortable and clean and nobody pryed into your business. 

I called my friend Tammy and asked her if she could come get us and she told me they were headed to Des Moines but they would come over after they were done, and pick us up.  But it would be later that night.  I didn't care. I just wanted to be around someone I knew for a change.  I spent my day in a church service with many others, singing and praising God.  I helped watch the children along with some of the others.  I was constantly asking to help with something to show my gratitude. 

This must have been around Thanksgiving time because I remember a fantastic meal of turkey, mashed potatoes & gravy.  And I remember people bringing food in as donations.  Lots and lots of food.  It was amazing.  I remember thinking, "When I get my life straight, I am going to be one of THOSE people.   The ones that give." 

A couple of times since then, I have sent a donation in the mail but have never ever thought it was enough.  This year is my year.  No matter what.  I am giving back to them because they took such good care of me.  I am no longer with Carlos but I will always be thankful for what they did for us. 

Until next time...thanks for reading!