Eggs and The Unbilical Cord

I don't know what it is with me and chickens and roosters and eggs lately? Certainly there are more important issues like how I do not want a "Hackey Mam" carrying a 6-pack and ridin' into the White House on a snowmobile with her First Dude, to be V.P or Pres. (Do add the Minn-e-sota accent please). Back to the Umbilical Cord of the everyday egg. I like eggs, but when I crack them open and that milky looking wiry squibbly unfertilized umbilical cord presents itself off the yoke in my frying pan I get woozy. So I do the right and good thing and take half the shell I have just cracked open and use it to splice off the " unbi -cord," while using the other half of the shell to scoop it out and into the sink nevermore to be seen. Then and only then can I eat it. I even went so far as to purchase a dozen organic feed "chicken eggs,"you know what I mean, in great hopes there may be less or no unbilical cord. And I paid $3.60 cents vs $1.59 cents for regular eggs both of which have the same white milky unfertilized umbilical cord looking at me from the pan. I know, duh. My friend Peter, whom I shall blog about at some point, says I am Obsessive-Compulsive Neurotic. I am not, my Mother is! LOL Why would anyone want to eat something that came out of a Chicken's ars and if the Chicken had sex, I don't think they make love, then that same egg would be-holden a little chicken...eeewww. Call it what you will, I cannot eat the unfertilized umbilical cord of a "chicken egg." Now if I scramble it quickly and its out of site, that works on occasion. Depending on my mood of course. Neurotic....no way.

Rooster's Gillitine

You all wont even believe this one. And after this all will know why we call it the "Funny Farm." Grandma has that active disease called ADD where she talks all the time and doesn't realize it. Grandpa has swollen stiff hands from pseudo gout. And they decide they have to "kill" the remaining Roosters because they have turned mean. Testosterone does that to Roosters and some men. I am old enough to know and still have memory recall. Back to "Funny Farm." And be sure to picture this 8 x 10 black and white or color glossy if you would like, eeeewwww, here we have Grandma chattering and telling Grandpa how to hold the AX and when to chop the Roosters head off at what exact moment and then how he did it wrong before he ever did it. Oh God! Here comes those cell memories of childhood when Dad cut the head s off the chickens and gave me the feet to pull the tendons and have fun with those dead moving feet, not to mention the chicken was still running around with no head. NOT! Psych 101 says to replay those old memories and give them a good ending. I had completed that phase of my life, allowing the chickens and roosters to graze forever in the green meadows of life... and now look. Blood and guts and not to mention Grandpa's swollen hands about to chop off Grandma's hands while holding the rooster hands... Oh God! I suppose euthanizing the Roosters would ruin the meat huh? Yup, I asked and I asked too late anyway.. Grandpa came through, chopped the heads off, Grandma still has her hands and gave him 24/7 instructions the entire time and I heard they had rooster for dinner this evening. We all had laughs for dinner over the entire cruel Rooster induction into heaven and its pearly gates. I only hope those poor Roosters finished what they were born to accomplish. Sex with chickens at the "Funny Farm." Maybe all men should go out that way after accomplishing their sexual reasons for living. LOL Sorry I just had to. Another cell memory I never completed transformation of.

Oh My God Wendy's Here!

OK, so it's 3:00 a.m. and I couldn't sleep. The good news is I can write this blog-post that is keeping me awake or at least blame it on this.

So who is Wendy? Wendy (green top) is the sister of Kim in light blue, and Tamara, my daughter-in-law, the one in the black top. The young lady in orange is a reporter from Dateline who flew in to spend a couple of hours interviewing the sisters regarding the recent events in North Carolina involving the unsolved murder of these three girls Father, Billy Miller. (See past blog-posts for more details) The Reporter ended up staying all day into dinner because all four girls got along so beautifully time was no issue and they allowed it pass peacefully which is something this ordeal has not been for any of them. Wendy is from Colorado and decided to join her sisters for a long vacation and respit from the woes of this upcoming trial regarding Billy Miller, their father's untimely death (unsolved murder). Of course I am leaving many details out considering I already blogged that twice. Just Google William (Billy Miller) and you will get a eyefull of drama soon to be seen on Dateline in a two part series. It is just nice to see Miss Wendy smile. As you all may recall the last photo of her was at Arlington Cemetery by her Father's grave with swollen eyes from many fallen tears in the midst of many fallen. Tears from growing up without a Father, tears of fear that possibly her Mother may have been involved in the set up ambush of her Marine Father home on leave thirty six years ago almost to the day this past month. And the arrests of the proposed guilty ones have also been almost to the day as well as his birthday. Spooky Circumstances? Oh ya! (Wendy is the child of Billy's second marriage) So you can see why the smiles on these girls faces brings much happiness for me this day. They need one another more than ever as this upcoming trial involves Wendy's Mother, who was one of the suspects arrested 36 years after the "facts." More to come..........

Peanut Butter Toothbrush

This is Gracie Allen! Found her shivering at the Dane County Humane Society last November. That being said, it has taken allot of patience finding food she likes and just basically trying to find a "nitch" for her to feel comfortable in. She has actually been somewhat depressed and seems to run up to strangers very excitedly until she see's they aren't her "lost people." Much to my happy surprise, I found something that comforts Grace. I dropped my toothbrush one day and off she ran with it.....and as you can see she did not let it go. Now every day she gets a little tad of peanut butter squished into the bristles of HER toothbrush. I got a new one! Ya Think! And she goes thru one every ten days because the bristles come out and that isn't healthy for her. She is getting better in all areas lately. She isn't as afraid of other dogs. She is starting to play with me. She is eating good food, not just living on treats. Only problem is........she poops right in the middle of the sidewalk. Joggers pass and I say, "I didn't teach her that!" They laugh. I don't. Why? Because if it isn't good solid waste I cant pick it up....so I put leaves over it and quickly walk away equally as quickly.

"Nipple Rings"

My son Cody has nipple rings! I uploaded this photo in hopes you could view them. Maybe if you squint real hard you can see them. That is JoAnna, Cody's girlfriend.

I received an email from Tamara, my daughter-in-law and Mother of the twins and Kennede, three girls age 7 and 8. See their photos on past blog. This is a copy of said email:

The girls just piled in the house from school.......Karsyn comes in and says Kennede was being mean to me on the bus. I said," Kennde what happened?" She said, "Nothing, I was telling my friends on the bus about Uncle Cody's nipple rings and Karsyn started pulling up her shirt." Then Kennede said, "I just told Karsyn she can"t pull her shirt up on the bus." I said, "Oh dear," how did you start talking about that?" Kennede says it all started with the ears and then we just moved on down. LOL!

Frick and Frack and Frieda

That is "Frick and Frack," formerly known as Camryn and Karsyn, the twins. Their parents, my son and his wife Tamara, renamed them due to their ability to be comically weird and insanely silly. In other words they are full of the stinker bug.

Before they could even walk they used to jump and wiggle their baby beds until the beds "walked" across the bare floor to meet one another in the middle. Truth! Jar the beds across the room. They jump, climb, run, and rarely sit still along with collecting bugs in a genuine bug container. They love salamanders and lizards and anything that crawls. Frick and Frack! And trying to catch a photo of them is tough, Frack makes faces in every single one.... Her little way of control I suspect. Of course I am no psychologist, but I am sure one would be advising all of us not to call these precious little humans Frick and Frack. But I love it.... too funny and you have to know 'em to believe it. And this is their new bed just put up this week. They cant move them or jump on them! They have those new fancy foam mattress's. But they can reach the ceiling fan, oh Lord.

Frieda, alias Kennede, had to go play so the photos of her new princess bed were taken without her presence. Isn't that a gorgeous bed! And they all got new California closets of which they seem more proud of then the beds. They are very lucky little girls. Frick and Frack and Frieda, alias, my kin. I never planned on a family blog, but it is leaning that way lately...best I take and turn it a bit to other things. We'll see. If you knew my family? There is more......

Arthur Murray

This is my Aunt Betty Morrison, now deceased. The night she was born, ???? approximately 1925, the doctor informed her Mother to hold her and love her because she would not survive the night. She was only 2 lbs. Her Mother's response to the doctor was, "Oh yes she will live!" Then she put her in a shoe box and put her in a warm oven, and she lived. One of four sisters and a brother. I will tell you there were eight lost brothers and sisters Grandma told me herself, but that one lived to teach ball room dancing for Arthur Murray Studios in Madison, Wisconsin.
I never heard allot of good things about my Aunt Betty because my Mother never said any good things about her. I did hear she liked to write. She had three children, None of whom seemed to help her much in life... I do wish I knew more about her. Not the mistakes she made, but the good things. I remember she had a big beehive hairdo and red lips later in life. She ended up in a nursing home with a mangled foot from being dropped off a gurney by hospital workers. No one would help her sue them even though she begged them to help her. By then she was rather voice-tress and a tad mean in her delivery which did not help her plight. She died one night alone. I do wish I knew more good things about her. We need to all remember to try to think on the good things of "our people" and anyone/everyone else before they die alone one night and some relative tries to write a blog post without knowing basically any good stuff. Red Lipstick and a beehive..... not enough for a lifetime is it?And interestingly I had a natural ability to ballroom dance without any lessons and never knew it may have been a special family gene.