FIRST CHALLENGE

Grandson Michael was with us on this trip and these pictures are his work. Doubt many could get this close to a mountain goat.

They made the second climb up Mt. Evans but they cheated and took a car ride up.

We stayed at the Table Mountain Inn. It was a very nice hotel. Downtown Golden is great.

Travis takes Michael on their first climb up Table Mountain just a few hours after we arrived in Golden, Colorado.

I had altitude sickness upon arrival and it was finally subsiding by the time we left yesterday morning.

NEVER FORGET

NAME THE DEBUTANTES

Here is the happy mama Elenore Hen with her new babies. I moved her with her nest into the nursery box so Elenore could get food and water and move around with her chicks. The top picture shows all three of her chicks. There are two that are black with white markings and one yellow. In the forefront of the top picture you see another egg in the process of hatching but that one didn't make it. The second photo shows the yellow chick admiring her mother. Elenore is back on the nest and since other hens continued to lay eggs in her nest, I might give her another day to see if anymore begin to hatch. I will then move her on the hen house floor with the three chicks.

With all the many chickens I have had, I am running out of names. I welcome your suggestions for naming Elenore Hen's three chicks.

WORKING OUT OF A MOTEL ROOM

Reading Scarlet's many strange jobs and job interviews brought to mind a strange job I once held.

Nineteen and newly (foolishly) married, my spouse was busy spending my dowry so it was important for me to find a job. The job in the newspaper was for telephone solicitors and I was to make application at the Sundown Too motel. No kidding. My brother-in-law accompanied me and waited outside to make sure the job was on the up-an-up.

I got the job. I could have been a total incompetent and gotten the job. They were hiring any live bodies that showed up. We were to call local residents and sell magazine subscriptions. We were not to use our real names. My pseudonym was "Kelly". The boss was a total slob with food stains on his clothes and reeking of alcohol, creeping around and monitoring our calls, screaming orders at us.

One of my best friend's parents were on my list. I had to call pretending to be Kelly. The dad cussed me up one side and down the other. I had never heard such language out of his mouth. It was more fun later that evening to visit their home and introduce myself as Kelly the phone solicitor. (Remember I was also the local minister's daughter and these were church members. LOL)

Oh, and it was my first and last day working at the Sundown Too. No more working out of a motel room for me. Target called and I got a job stocking shelves.

MY NAME IS BELLA

Hello. I am Bella I am Hope's Pucci Pup. We visited Oklahoma. I fell asleep. I awakened from my nap and could not find my Mommy Hope. I ran to the window but could not see her.










Granny Annie said Hope could not find me. She had to go home without me. She knew Granny Annie would take care of me. I had fallen asleep under the computer. Granny Annie let me play on the computer. That made me feel better.












Next Granny Annie and Grandpa Ron took me for a ride.










We went to their bank. I got to go in the big vault. I saw Granny Annie's Safe Deposit box.










I went to sleep after a big day.











Granny Annie and Grandpa Ron have treated me nicely. I will still be glad to see Mommy Hope on Monday.

ELENORE HAD A BABY

It is a surprising and happy day. One of the dozen eggs Elenore Hen is sitting on has hatched. We were about to give up and empty her nest. Now we will leave the other eggs to see what transpires and to see if we miscalculated her hatching dates.

Elenore is three years old. We bought her as an adult Silky-mix hen at the Poultry Swap Meet. We bought her because she was supposed to be a loving, nurturing hen and we named here Elenore, after my sister, because my sister is loving and nurturing.

Elenore the hen has seated herself on every nest with a broody hen and everyone knows the story of Elenore the hen sitting on the nest of kittens. She never had her own nest. We know she would bounce back and forth between the kittens and her own clutch of eggs and we feared she would fail to hatch her own chicks. But, now it has happened. Oh I hope we have more in the morning to add to Elenore's brood. She will be the happiest of mothers if she can hatch a few more of her own.

BREAKING NEWS: We have one more chick and another one hatching. Looks like Elenore Hen will at least have triplets. Whoohoo!

CAN A CAMERA RUIN THE MEMORY?

We had the best weekend. It was busy and productive and full of laughter. My son and his children were here. On top of a multitude o projects, Sunday morning was designated as the time to clip the wings of our spring chicks.

To make a long story short we ended up with Ryan and me catching the chicks, holding each one for Ron to clip the wings (we call it a manicure because it's like cutting fingernails), Ron handing each chick out the window to Tandy and Dillon. (Where was Beth? Still asleep recovering from her surprise 13th birthday party).

Ryan is 16, he over 6' tall, very skinny and still a bit awkward adjusting to his height after each growth surge. I will never forget the sight of his serious and successful efforts to catch each chick. I wished for a camera until I realized standing there filming would have kept me from recording the memory in my mind forever. Sometimes when we take the pictures to share with others, we lose the moment for ourselves.

Speaking of pictures, the above photos are the last ones of David and Goliath before they moved out of the hen house.

And, speaking of pictures again, be sure and go to Sliding Through Life and looking at Rachel's latest cake. Talk about a "fish story"!

WHEN THE PIE WAS OPEN THE BIRDS BEGAN TO SING

We all have had more than one occasion when a song gets stuck in our head. We hear a tune and begin to hum the tune then sing the lyrics. We then have it for hours or days on end. It is not put there on purpose and we usually curse and say, "I can't get this darn song out of my head!"

It is Saturday morning. The weekend is upon us and we all have lots to do. It is my strong suggestion that we intentionally whistle a happy tune (or sing a special song) and get it stuck in our head on purpose. What a better way to get through a busy time than with a song in our hearts. I remember my grandmother always singing hymns in her kitchen while she turned out those delicious meals.

Follow the link to see why I'll be humming Waltz Across Texas. What special song will you select and why?

SUCCESS!

I ask you, is there a parent or grandparent (or Great Auntie) out there that doesn't know what a monumental occasion this is? Let's see if you can caption this:)

TOPICS THAT BORE

The Yahoo headline yesterday from Robin Gretchen's blog stated these are topics that we should avoid because they bore:

1. A dream.
2. The recent changes in your child’s nap schedule.
3. The route you took to get here.
4. An excellent meal you once had at a restaurant.
5. The latest additions to your wine cellar.
6. An account of your last tennis game.
7. The plot of a movie, play, or movie—in particular, the funny parts.

So, let me apologize for the time I told you I dreamed that my sister and her best friend forced me to eat pounds of raw bacon.

And the time I told you my grand daughter sneaked out of the house at nap time and was found playing in the cherry tree.

I'm glad I read this before I told you about our trip home from Tulsa after our third attempt at Ron's MRI. He was drugged and I had to drive in nickel sized hail because our route was up the I-44 corridor. (By the way Kenju, the sunglasses work wonders in heavy rain.)

Plus I won't bother you with the details of our delicious Vietnamese lunch at Binh-Le's in Tulsa with me having sesame shrimp and Ron having sweet and sour pork and the Imperial rolls we both tried for the first time. Never mind my recommending the latest greatest delicious low cost wine Frontera from Chili that is recommended highly in Consumer reports. I probably shouldn't mention the fact that I am the only one in our entire family who has never played tennis. Thus, so much for a movie review of TAKEN that kept me on the absolute edge of my seat today.

What would you bore us with? (Actually I can't think of a one of you who has ever bored me with your interesting writing.)

FIVE MEN WALKING

You are going to begin thinking that I have an obsession with fantasy, television and Hollywood.

Shopping in Wal-Mart the other day, I happened to look up in time to see a strange group enter the store. They were shoulder to shoulder and walked with long strides. Background music was definitely needed as I viewed them. Maybe something from Pulp Fiction. It was as if they were being shown in slow motion -- some kind of living tableau.


A young man of medium height with short cropped blonde hair wearing a white T shirt walked at the far left. He had a small goatee and you could see the tattoos that started on his neck and moved under the shirt and out his sleeves down his arms to his wrists. I could only assume his torso was probably tattooed as well.


Next was a very tall, dark skinned man in a Hawaiian shirt wearing a Panama hat. I would have guessed he was their leader as the others seemed to match their stride to his.


A pale fellow wearing an ivy league cap, sunglasses and what I would call very preppy looking clothes almost matched the height of Mr. Panama Hat.


Preppy's nearest walking partner looked like a typical Okie wearing jeans, T-shirt and looking like a fisherman. This fellow was the only one with common appearance to what we ususally see in Wal-Mart.


The last guy on the far right was about the same height as Blondie. He could have been an Aborigine who just stepped off the boat from Australia.

I looked around for a film crew.

I went back to shopping.


Loading my groceries in the car I looked up to see this mismatched band of fellows depart Wal-Mart with only Mr. Panama Hat carrying a small package. Again their formation was shoulder to shoulder. I wanted to follow them.


Was it just me or do you also think this was an unusual group of guys? It has really bugged me because I do not know "the rest of the story". I also wish I had taken their picture. Each on their own would not have caught my eye. (Well, maybe the tattooed fellow or the stocky Aborigine?) but as a group I found their fashion sense miles apart.

IN SEARCH OF CLEAVAGE

I went to town on a mission last week. This post by Darlene got me to thinking about the challenges in this day and time to be pretty. We have three beautiful grand daughters and it is contradictory to think of what Hollywood tells them beauty is and what each of their smiles tell us. The same concern is there for our grandsons, yet they don't seem as eager to emulate Hollywood styles.

As many of you know, we live in a rural community. My first stop was the local police department. We have two police officers, both male. Nope, no cleavage there. Sharing their office is the City and Volunteer Fire Department office with two middle aged women and neither having tiny waists with low cut shirts exposing any cleavage.

Our local Family Dollar, our two restaurants, our Dairy Queen, our three deli/service stations did not have employees in designer clothes with high fashion hairdos and/or expensive cuts. Surely I would find what I was looking for at the one bank in town. Most of the staff in the bank is female and there was not a one that looked anything like any of the stereotype television women.

Come to think of it, even when we visit the nearby big city we don't run into a lot of cleavage either. So what are we to think? There is cleavage in the casinos but only on the waitresses on the casino floor. Hardly any of the female patrons are sporting fancy clothing and you can still see some amazing apparel there but nothing like the clothing pictured above.

All women like to dress up for a special party and boost and squeeze as much sag as the law will allow, but to dress as if for the camera every day would be horrible. The banking industry did not approve of low cut clothing when I was employed. I don't see that they do now. Is this because I am an Okie?

Do your day-to-day travels in your state yield women dressed like you see on television? Are there companies that actually allow women to dress in the workplace as we see on television? Tell me your experiences in your state or country and let me know if Oklahoma is the exception rather than the rule.

FOREVER LOVED

Dear, dear mother,
We will always see you in each other:)

FOUR IS A CROWD

Sorry about the poor quality video. It's dark in the nest box. I have changed the video from earlier. Look carefully and you will see Elenore Hen and Miss Hissy are still fighting over the kittens. Elenore seems to have forgotten that she has a clutch of eggs in the nest box next door and has abandoned those eggs for the kittens once again. Cats and hen are all in the one box.

DID WE REALLY PUT A MAN ON THE MOON?

This is my absolute favorite chili. I use it to make a Frito chili pie once in a while. Ron does not like Frito chili pies, so I buy these little microwave singles. There is a problem opening these (and that goes for any of the other brands of soup, etc. that use this individual serving container) When you pull the ring top it pops off and flings the sauce everywhere. I try to remember to place a towel over it or place my hand over it to keep sauce off the walls. Today I used my hand and held too close to the rim. I cut my finger tip and instead of sauce everywhere, there is blood everywhere.

Some coffee creamer containers aren't dangerous, but they also are unintentional spray products. You shake the cream before pouring, then when you push the button to pop the top, you spew cream everywhere.

Do my complaints make sense to you? What products annoy you because of their containers?

SHADOWS OF MY MIND

There is a tape recorder in my purse. I carry it to record things I want to remember, but I forget it is in my purse.

I have a necklace with a container on it that holds a small pencil and a piece of paper. I tried wearing it all the time to jot things down that I wanted to remember. The necklace kept banging on everything and drove me crazy.

A good friend of mine wrote on her hand. She never forgot anything. I tried that for a while and people would ask me, "What are those words on your face and/or chin?" I couldn't remember not to rest my head on the inked words on my hand. LOL

As I approach 63 my memory is not getting any better. What are your tricks to remembering?


For those of you who have followed our insurance saga, we have arrived at a settlement on the vehicle. They came within $220 of what we wanted and it seemed insane to drag it on for $220. Now we have the medical part to pursue. Right now we seem to be dealing with a nicer person than we were dealing with on the van. Thank you guys for your empathy through this trauma.