Mashed Potatoes! by Diane Ogden

So I called Grandpa (dad) to see if he got food for dinner so he can sleep!  He told me Grandma (mother) made a big dinner with baked potatoes and he was happy!
Man!! one (daughter) never knows what to believe or act on.... The Happy News for Today is Papa Grandpa, age 86, got his potatoes! And can sleep....Which he lives for as a farmer!  Jeezers and Shheessh!
Nite

photo from:  www.happyhints.com

The Obituary.... by Diane Ogden

So my father is 86 now.  He has been a healthy man most of his life with the exception of a kidney stone.  Why his incision appeared as though they were cutting him off at the waist. Of course this was several decades ago.  Then he has a bowel obstruction which caused gangrene and he lived through that also.  Now at 86 he had open heart surgery to repair and replace a valve so he could withstand the kidney they have to remove (due to cancer) this month.  This all being said, he asked me to write his obituary.  Sshhheeesshh!  yet....I answered in the affirmative and with all the maturity I could muster saying, (Without the Tara Southern drawl) "Why of course Father, whatever you wish Father."  Then when I got out in my Buick I screamed....nnnnooooooo, I don't want to write an obituary for a living man, my father.  But I did.  You see he wants to see if I miss anything cool he has done in life.  Pretty sure I missed a couple things, but hit the high points for sure.  It is now ready for his "viewing!"  (Isn't that a pun?) Today he is upset because Mother is refusing to cook for him anymore.  He told me he cant sleep well because his belly isn't full.  They get meals on wheels at noon and mother eats the other half for dinner, where as dad makes himself a sandwich.  I recommended he buy some mashed potatoes at his favorite diner and munch on them all week BEFORE BED!  I told him when the other sibling asks him if things are going well and he says yes after I have told them NO, it makes me look bad and places me in the middle.  So...where to go from here?  He wants to go to a nursing home where they like him.  Hey, I married the first creeper that came along to get away from "home" thinking the creeper liked me.  O well let by goners be by goners they say. Anyway he died and moved on to other places where he can con other peoples or spirits. Or who knows he may have actually lived long enough to have learned something this round.

Back to Father.  I wrote a very lovely obituary.  Sounds like mortuary or contrary.  I did not say one word about the whippings or never taking me to the doctor when I couldn't breath, nope none of that stuff cause by goners are by goners by Godly!  And sometimes Father's do try to make up for their parenting mistakes as the years pass of which this Father has truly done.  Nobody is a perfect parent and some are less perfect than others but usually before their end times, they can stop working and sit down and think and remember and regret and sometimes even say I am sorry.  Mine didn't say anything, but he did other nice things.  Now look, he is lacking in food and for sure love.  He is such a jolly fellow.  Not to Mother I guess.  They are on that same merry-go-round wheel Esther and the Colonel are on.  Fighting, nastiness, sarcasms, meanness and apparently false starvation...mean nothing positive on this earth! Their just pissin' in the wind!  Wasted energy! Negative breeding ground! Of course he does need to get enough food.  Guess I will take him some mashed potatoes next time I go to the funny farm.  He is going into a kidney removal surgery with some very negative mental feelings in ten days.  After 86 years on earth working very hard .....I see that as very sad.  But The Happy News for today is:  He still has time. (for me to get those potatoes to the funny farm in time) 

Esther and The Colonel (she hates blue)......by Diane Ogden

Esther called me today.  I answered with the standard "hello."  All I heard on the other end was, "O - M - G!  Esther had verbalized each letter very clearly and distinctly.  I immediately said, "What, what's going on Esther?"  That is when she started talking and didn't stop for twenty minutes easy does it.  The Colonel had gone out and purchased them a new broom.  Not any broom mind you, a BLUE broom, because he knows Esther hates blue.  Her Mother loved blue and Esther has no fond memories of her mother, only her father. 
Esther and the Colonel live and ride life on a circle.  Like one of those rides at the corner park where you run and get it going and then jump on for the spin.  I forgot the name of that dingy thing.  I should rather say dizzy thing.  I never liked it and still have not so fond memories of it.  Anyway...that is how Esther and the Colonel live, like they are on that mini merry-go-round that isn't so merry!  And no one is willing to jump off and stop the dizziness.  So they fight passively with blue broom type deals.  Heck, the Colonel is so good at this game he buys everything blue he can find.  Blue blankets, blue can openers, blue coffee makers of which Esther returns with a vigor.  Blue shorts, blue shirts, blue socks, blue rags, and he even bought himself a blue car once. He writes Esther notes on the easy erase  board with bold blue marker! When he ordered Pizza he demands it delivered in a blue box. After the car purchase incident I thought Esther was going to die, but I told her she couldn't. She has to outlive him or he will put her in a blue dress, with blue hair, in a blue coffin, with blue flowers on top. That being said, Esther sat down and drew the floor plans for her new home when the Colonel leaves this wonderful earth and life without Esther.  Yup she's ready freddie. Now its just a waitin game.  She shakes and he drinks.  Yet on occasions they go out for dinner, they meet friends in happy places, and they have family over, and they have me over too.  I guess raising her three daughters, Hester, Cherrie, Cherrie's daughter Lexus, and Ramos, make that four......he is womaned out.  Can you imagine?  As for the coffins... not going there...I was just jokin cause what you give you get in return and I do not nor are I ready for a blue coffin! The happy news of the day is the Colonel is quiet, in his cave, watching the TV and resting for the next round with Esther and the girls.

This Month at Crazy Island by Diane Ogden

I call my complex "Happy Hollow," my neighbor calls it "Crazy Island."  The sign out front used to say "Luxury Apartments" until the maintenance guy was instructed to figure out how to stop the front yard from being called "chit island" by the tenants, considering this is the dog building.  So he wenteth out and purchased two VERY LARGE plastic (which retains odors) garbage receptacle's and placed  those big BLACK hunks of smell at the front door entrance which I thought was beyond brilliant, not! And another at the North and South entrances. On hot summer days it is so pleasant when someone opens said black plastic large "chit can" to deposit a little green bag of doo doo. Again NOT!  All one hundred thousand other doo doo's from other dogs comes rushing out of the container and into the air floating over into my apartment or the neighbors depending on the direction of the wind!   Refreshing? Luxury?  And they are not emptied daily or even weekly. That is only the beginning of my happy "tails" of this place.  It is managed by a man who also manages the lowest most crime ridden complex in the city, meaning he treats us luxury tenants like the folks from the lowest end of town with the high crime lights in their yards. We don't have high crime lights we have dog fodder! There is/are no maintenance staff on call at this site.  I cant tell you how many times the fire alarms have gone off in the middle of the night.  It looks like the humane society on strike out front.  Dogs and owners in robes and some less than robes thinking the darn place is going up in smoke all segregated on the front sidewalks with flashlights.  Imagine what those over sized black cans of poop would smell like on fire.  Some of you have imagined the old days when you put a sack of poop on someones porch, lit it on fire and rang the doorbell, then ran like the wind.  Same song, different era.  There was never any fire, just lack of maintenance is all.  I went out into the hall to check for smoke and by Godly if it weren't pitch blackness.  Only ONE of the eight emergency fire lights was working. ONE! Again, maintenance not doing their monthly battery checks for at least ten years. That would be 12 months per year times ten years equals.....120 months now that I have a new battery in my calculator. 
Six months ago they found out the office girl was stealing $.  Yup, she got "away with" six figures...$35,000 of it was my hard earned money.  Turns out it was for drugs. BUT, the manager, knowing he would lose his job brought his accountant wife in and the two of them spent at least two weeks 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, playing cover up machines in the dim lit luxury office.  Then....they called in the men in blue who gave it to the detectives in blue who gave it to the auditors who couldn't find what happened.  Imagine that?  The old boy has been working with the low side of town so long its rubbed off on his ars and moved to his brain.  I still cant believe she got away with it.  P.S.  Hester, Esther's daughter worked here in the office but is being ejected due to her noggin issues.  More on that later as its bigger than the poop receptacles and almost as bad.  The happy news from "crazy island or happy hollow" today is that I think they fixed the underground garage door opener so we can get out now and go to work. But the humongous ginormous chit cans are still sitting downwind!  

Burned Biscuits....an email forward

I have never forwarded a forward on my blog but this one is an exception: 
I do not know who wrote this but if I find out I will add their name to this post!

When I was a kid, my Mom liked to make breakfast food for dinner
every now and then. And I remember one night in particular when she
had made breakfast after a long, hard day at work. On that evening
so long ago, my Mom placed a plate of eggs, sausage and extremely
burned biscuits in front of my dad. I remember waiting to see if
anyone noticed!
Yet all my dad did was reach for his biscuit, smile at my Mom and ask
me how my day was at school. I don't remember what I told him that
night, but I do remember watching him smear butter and jelly on that
ugly burned biscuit. He ate every bite of that thing... never made a
face nor uttered a word about it!
When I got up from the table that evening, I remember hearing my Mom
apologize to my dad for burning the biscuits. And I'll never forget
what he said: "Honey, I love burned biscuits every now and then."
Later that night, I went to kiss Daddy good night and I asked him if
he really liked his biscuits burned. He wrapped me in his arms and
said, "Your Momma put in a hard day at work today and she's real
tired. And besides - a little burned biscuit never hurt anyone!"
As I've grown older, I've thought about that many times Life is
full of imperfect things and imperfect people. I'm not the best at
hardly anything, and I forget birthdays and anniversaries just like
everyone else. But what I've learned over the years is that learning
to accept each other's faults - and choosing to celebrate each others
differences - is one of the most important keys to creating a
healthy, growing, and lasting relationship.
And that's my prayer for you today... that you will learn to take the
good, the bad, and the ugly parts of your life and lay them at the
feet of God. Because in the end, He's the only One who will be able
to give you a relationship where a burnt biscuit isn't a deal-breaker!
We could extend this to any relationship. In fact, understanding is
the base of any relationship, be it a husband-wife or parent-child or
friendship!
"Don't put the key to your happiness in someone else's pocket - keep
it in your own."
So, please pass me a biscuit, and yes, the burned one will do just fine.

I Slept with Andrew and Ben For Two Days! by Diane Ogden

 I thought I should have to learn how to find a food pantry this week.
You know one of those churches where the food is all outdated and they stand there and tell you just how much you can have. I only know because someone told me!
I lost ten Andrews and two Ben's for two days.  I searched my apartment top to bottom including trash. I searched my Buick, my purse, and my brain.  I started worrying I might have the big brain A disease and I don't mean Aides either.  I mean the forget who you are and where you been one.  I went ahead and went to my million dollar hair cut appointment with faith, (not foolish faith) that I would find all my Andrews and Ben's somewhere and if I didn't I would  not stress my usual, I would merely suck it up and sit until the next payday.  I came home from the hair doo deal and also stopped to purchase half a million in ink for the printer in case that is all I had to do all weekend.
I took my recycled ink to store and they gave me $6 which I don't get for two months in the form of a check by mail.  S H U T U P!  I needed that $6 this week people. That is when I noticed I was down to $7 in the wallet. I went home, watched a movie, burned some sage to clear the mental air of feeling "broke," and went to bed.  Often when I burn sage and breath a couple minutes of it, diluted in the air of course, I have amazing dreams. (I learned that from the Indians, in a book of course, not that I have person Indian friends.) One of those dreams of which I am writing a novel from.  Truth.  This night I had a nice peaceful sleep with no worries of Andrew and his brothers and or Ben or upcoming hunger.  I woke at 6:30 a.m. thinking I did not want to rise and shine. Thinking about what I would do for two days with without the "boys."  That is when the sage in the back of my brain from the night before said VERY QUIETLY, almost unrecognizably that it was time for me to wash the pink blanket I was covered with. Then I saw paper bills under the blanket IN MY MIND.  Then I forgot all that as quickly as I thought it. They say the spirit works that way.  I got out of bed, looked at the little dog laying on the pink blanket, not wanting to disturb her but did anyway. I flipped the corner of the pink blanket up and back and OMG there was three of the brothers and one Big Ben!  My mind scrambled.  I looked down and at my feet were more and under the bed more.  I love it when I find more money than I thought I even had.  Of course I keep track of my money.  I let up for one evening and bingo dingo cant do that ever again.  Into the red pouch when not in front of my shining face! The face now facing that marvelous martha money.  (Martha S is rich remember even though she has a horrible personality, she is rich none the less) And I do associations of the brain if you recall.  I am so happy I can pay my cell phone bill with Ben, and buy food and gas with the Andrews Brothers!  And there be some cash flow left over from last weeks labor.  Maybe I'll get that Keurig Coffee machine I have wanted for so long.  No wait, I have to send money to the prison for son number #1.   That's a diff blog, another day.  Need I say what the good news for today is!  Smokie some natural sagie and find monies! 

Esther's Bloody Knee's, The Colonel Disappears by Diane Ogden

I guess it 's time for another Esther and the Colonel update.  My smarty phone has been bombed the last few days regarding Hester and Cherry.  Cherry is Hester's sister and Esther's other female child.  Cherry stays away from Hester pretty much. Says Hester is out of the loop, crazy, nutzo.  Cherry has a child named Lexus.  I know, I know, its a car.  They couldn't afford the car so they named the unexpected child Lexus. This is her car and her workshop in the photo. Of course I am embarrassed for knowing these people.  Yet, it's good material for the part of my brain that searches the earth for humor.  These people fit the bill perfectly.  Couldn't find a closer fit to Archie Bunker and family if I worked at it.
So.... one of Esther's calls is near frantic.  Hester has borrowed her car again and while backing it out of the garage she hits the wall and cracks the mirror housing on the passenger side.  OMG (that means Oh My God!) for the lone one person that doesn't know that.  OMG, Esther is anal about her Buick.  It's not a new one and she has it detailed, new paint job, any imperfections repaired including the undercarriage of the old Buick she calls "Inez."  Not my choice of car names for sure...but then I wouldn't name my child Hester either.  The car mishap is a major issue, but Hester's living arrangements are even more major.  She wants Esther to go with her to talk to her landlord who has evicted Hester for living in nutzville while at his complex.  But Hester has the "goods" on this "Clyde" considering she worked for him for three years before he figured out she was off the charts and needed a lobotomy for sure, to be able to even co exist on earth, much less his complex.  Yet no white truck with men in white suits has arrived.  Nope.  The chicken spined landlord has actually let her talk him into staying longer.  Even though he has letters from frightened tenants, threats to him from Hester herself, he's had to change locks due to her paranoid psychotic fear of the delivery man, her threats to sue the phone company because they broke into her apartment and put bugs in all her wall outlets and phones, her threats to sue him because she is a disabled person!  And the list goes on.  But he let her stay.  I feel so protected! Especially when she stops her car and screeches to me, "Forgive me, I was wrong!"  I just look away thinking, "You are one of the ones who flew over, no landed in the coo coo's nest. Esther is on her knees and has been until they are bloody....asking God to please move Hester across the pond, or at least North to Alaska.  I told Esther that might cost her more considering the distance.  She said no way Alaskan Hose'.  Head her up and move her out! 
I have to tell you I am watching Esther shake herself to death.  And The Colonel is just leaving the area of his home and den/cave every chance he gets.  Maybe I am a drama queen cause I actually look forward to Esther's chit so I can find laughter in this world.  Sad I find it in this psychotic mess.  Humm I might should rather search out some support group.  Or not.  Oh, Lynn next door had her boobs done.  They are now el natural!  She isn't so sure they are big enough though.  Huh?

photo from: www.nb-fotosw.de