BAM, YOUR DEAD Part II............by Diane Ogden

Bam your dead, and you left some good "stuff" behind, AND your children were of the upper es-cha-launce of brain activity and went thru every piece of your property. I think they call that class. And they kept much of it or found good places for "it" being the treasures of their Mother!

I walked into a clients home the day after I wrote the Bam...Your DEAD Part I, and was shocked at what I saw.  I saw a restoration of my faith in the "Afterlife of the dead mothers brochure."  Crass huh?  Where did all that class go I was talking about.  Where is the upper es-cha-launce of my brain activity?  I'll  tell you where...   it rose up like Jesus on the third day.  I was like a kid at a cupcake party when I started looking thru all those beautiful dresses, hats, purses, fur boa's and fur hand warmer, purple leather jacket and....jewelry too.  The dresses may not fit anyone, but they were amazing Gatzby dresses.  And she passed away last year for God sakes.  No kids ran to her home and stuffed it all in big BLACK dead garbage bags and drove it to a strange drop off.  Mother's life was dropped off.   Well not the Mother I saw thru photos and belongings.  Why I felt like I knew her.  Like she lived on even thru a stranger like myself.  I offered her property good energy and she in turn did like for me.  It was a good day after the Bam You Dead Part I!  Timing is everything they say and that is what I would consider "Perfect Timing."
Be well, Be safe, Be Happy, and don't die,  Unless your kids have class and upper es-cha-launce of the brain.  Obviously I cannot spell that so sound it out.  And that does not mean I am not smart.  I am.
Later's  And Good Nite......Darlings!                                

 

photos from www.facebook.com/AtticofTreasures2007

Bam!.........YOUR DEAD!.......................by Diane Ogden

Have you ever "wondered" what would happen to your home and your belongings when you DIE?
Some people would say, "Who cares, it's just stuff."  Others might feel or hope a few of their possessions would go to those who would care. Maybe even care about the items.  For instance I have a beautiful red velvet tufted duck down cushion love seat that was my Nana's.  I slept on it when I was four. I have a French Ottoman that was my Grandmother's.   A plant stand that was my Great Grandmother's....My Grandfather's dog tags and  aviator sunglasses that don't have a scratch on them.
Some jewelry, hair combs from the 40's, a pair of size 4 hunting boots from Nana, (I didn't get the bear rug from the bear she shot).  Old 35 mm slides,  and so on. 

I have seen and heard more times than I care to about a parent dying and the children whisk into the home and bag it all up and call a truck to come dispose of it.  It is meaningless to them because they didn't ever take the time to look or ask.  A blind man would have seen more than most of what I heard from these people regarding the personal possessions of their beloved Mother or Father.  The worst is when they take the photos and if they do not recognize the person.....TRASH.  I can understand if there are no other family members left to view the photos.  Why am I talking like this?  Because today I spoke to an old friend whose mother in law died.  The couple drove a few hours to her cabin and in one day bagged and trashed the entire place.  They cleaned it also which is the good side of the story.  Comments were made like, 'She just had a lot of junk, nothing of value!"  I thought I should climb through the phone and personally choke her for such disrespectful words.  While in the meantime I was looking at my great room thinking, OMG I don't really have anything worth a lot of money or value do I?  I was imagining my children coming in here with trash bags and stuffing and jabbing all my worldly possessions into big black TRASH bags and the big green garbage truck coming for them.  The photos, hair combs, the sweater I wanted so badly and waited until it went on sale to finally get it.  The CD I made for my children to let them know I could sing.  My report cards from first grade through graduation. The rings my son made me in art class.  My daughters baby shoes, and so on. The awards for being top salesperson in the company, top sales team in the company, executive leadership club.  The gold goblets, gold ware, award plaques, the Oscar.....

where will they go?  Will anyone look at them and know I was an executive leader once. Will anyone know that lamp was the second thing I ever bought when I started working after the children were born?  Or the ring was the first thing I bought for myself.  Will anyone look at the video's on my computer.  Or listen to the voice recorder on my Mr. Phone where/who I tell funny stories to. Will they check my contacts list and notify anyone?  Or will they just HURRY and stuff it all in bags, look around, and say, "There's really nothing of real value here."  Drive to the funeral home, talk cremation.  Cook or order some food and get it over with so we can get back to golfing and such. That is pretty much what I have seen and it sucks.  I wouldn't do that to anyone.  I would show respect.  I didn't get one item that was my fathers.  Not a shirt, not a cuff link, not a nadda.  I wanted to make all the Grands a quilt from his clothes.  The guys a throw pillow with "Papa" embroidered in one corner.  I wanted to make him a life book with all the cards and beautiful worded letters from people.  But they got thrown away like trash.  Yes I am upset at the words spoken to me today from that old friend about her mother-in-law.  She's gone.  But her spirit lives on.  I know I know.  Its just stuff.  Things.  But I also have a friend from grade school who wrote a little book called, "All Things Have a Voice!"  by Pamela Adger. People need to be still and listen to the things and the animals more often... Because all things have a voice. 

1936 General Electric Refrigerator.......by Diane Ogden

 

This refrigerator, a 1936 General Electric and lives at the old funny farm in the garage and belonged to my Great Grandmother Luella Kline Baker Anderson. Make a mental note that my Mother is 81 years and that was her Grandmother!

It runs great! The family has gone through MANY refrigerators while this one keeps on cooling! Steady she goes year after year..no repairs, winter and summer in the garage. No air conditioning out there and no heat. Through children and Grand Children and Great Grandchildren. Through party's and Christmas dinners, Thanksgiving's, New Years, Easter's, family reunions, tobacco harvests with many workers, Corn picking, bean picking, and everyday use to hold what the big honker in the kitchen cant hold because they just don't make them like they used to....

Later's.

Poopin' in the Wind............by Diane Ogden

I found myself, no my brain, to be utterly scattered one day last week.

 Well maybe three days for sure.
I was in the process of purchasing my new ride after many many years of no car payments.  I am a person who likes things in order.  Who makes LISTS.  Who has a regular schedule that if it gets off too much the brain gets scattered like say Humpty Dumpty's donkey. (ass when he fell) And that is exactly what happened to me one lovely damp day last week.
 I followed my morning routine to the T!  Showered, brushed teeth, made coffee, fed the herd, got the laundry out of the dryer, walked the dog, cleaned the litter boxes (2), put some makeup on, ate some food, made my lunch!  Looked around the apt. grabbed my lunch and glasses and keys and the bag I used to clean the litter and walked down the stairs to the old Buick where I sat the bag of litter on my trunk while I put the other items in my car. Got into my car  and drove away from the complex onto the frontage road and then onto a secondary hiway. I had driven about two miles down the hiway when I noticed this car speeding up in the lane to my right. I look over and freak the freak out!  The woman driver is so close to me I imagine for real this woman is going to collide with my car all the while one of her arms is outside its front drivers seat flailing all over the place and she is screaming.  O M G!  What the H can be going on?  I have to think which is very difficult at his moment.  I am thinking about HOW TO NOT OPEN the passenger side window because it may never go back up and I am in need of selling said old Buick.  But there she is bigger than life screaming and flailing and driving entirely too close.  She is trying to tell me something and pointing. Considering crazy lady is over the top.   I bit.  I hit the power button and down came the broken window. She is pointing to the back of my car.  Mind you we are trucking at 40-45 mph!!  No chit Charlie.  Now I am thinking I am on fire.  My car is on fire. 
Oh Lord it might blow up cause the gas tank is back there where she is pointing.  Then for some reason my brain became coherent and it heard the words, "There is a sack on your trunk!"  And that is when I realized there was three or four days of poop from three cats that could at any moment implode, explode, fly backwards and hit me and the inside of my car, or ........surely there were no convertibles in the area of the flying poop explosion.  There was no where to pull over!
I had set the HUGE bag of litter on the trunk while I did something else God only knows because I cant remember what it was.  Got into my car.......headed out down the road and onto the main secondary highway.
So I slowed down until I got to a turn off.....which happened to be right in front of my State Farm Agents Office....(should have set it outside there door and lit her up, I know, I know that is from the 60's only and I am certainly just kidding hum)

 I retrieved the huge heavy wet bag of poop and placed it IN the trunk where it stayed until I reached my first clients home where it found its way into their trash receptacle.  I only hoped it wouldn't get too hot before their trash day.  As for the crazy lady.  Jeez, you wudda thunk there was a million dollars in that bag riding high on the back of my Buick.
She could have caused a real serious accident.  Trying to drive closer to my car so I could hear her!  What a goose.  And now when I look back on the whole thing I laugh until I am in tears at that big bag of poop riding down the hiway at 45 mph on the back of the old Buick.  Reminds me of Christmas Vacation movie with Chevy Chase.  Who leaves a bag of poop on the back of their car and goes to work?  MWAH when the brain gets overloaded.
So until I find something funny, interesting, or not even useful.....be safe, be well, be happy, and get rich so its easier to keep your wits about you. Laters.

Grumpy Butt Day in Madison, Wisconsin..........by Diane Ogden

I woke up at 8:05 with the same thought I went to bed with.  "Have to get to the car was with the Buick so I can sell "her."  She has no plates on her!  My daughter was here and I decided I hadn't done anything illegal for about 30-40+ years and this was the day for it.  We couldn't get the plates off the new Honda CRV to put on the old Buick to "giter" to the car wash so once more I made an "adult" decision to go anyway.  I put an old license plate from 2001 in the back window like the OKIES and the Rednecks do off we went down the road.  No duck tape though.  Got to the car wash and asked if they would vacuum out the trunk.  They said, "Yes maam that will be $2.50 more."
Good Lord I agreed.  No one smiled.  That might just be because I asked the lil Mexcian man with the vacuum hose in his hand if he could speak English.  I was so embarr -ASS-ed of myself.  Of course he said yes.  I should have known better.  It just came out of my mouth like stupid on rye. 

After such a social embarrassing moment we head on inside the Car Wash where they have two parrots who have lived there for as long as I can recall.  Probably at least twenty years. Seewee."  They came right down and twisted and turned their heads talking and clicking their beaks at her.  I went to the counter to communicate money with the young girl who must have gone out last night as she was sour grapes.  My Dad would have said, "Look at the puss on that face?"  Meaning she "aint" a happy girl person.  No matter what I said and all with a giant smile because I was happy I made the four mile trip and wasn't in jail for driving a vehicle without proper plates.  In fact with an old, I mean old used one (plate) sitting in the window.  At one point on the way a police cruiser pulled in behind me and I was quite sure it was all over but the booking.Turned out to be a security car, no po-po!  I know I would have only gotten a ticket that would have cost me more than the $75 plates needed to drive it until it is sold.  O well, we made it.  And on the way out, SeeWee's both said, "BYE" to us over and over. They were the only happy people we ran into at that car wash.  Even the customers were grumpbutts.  Must have been some bad energy floating around there.   Now all I have to do in go back out and get some FORSALE signs which I forgot!  Going on Craig's List today!!  OMG I have attachment issues.  Later on that. 

(My daughter has the ability to communicate with animals more so than most of us.....and so she did with said Parrots both named "SeeWee!")
So be well, be happy, be safe, and get rich so you can give your old cars away and not have to sell them.  Laters

 

"Folies Bergere" and the Parrot.................. by Diane Ogden

Two days ago I decided to purchase something I have wanted for years.  Why now?  Before the new used car payment becomes a part of my budget.  I bought a large beautiful colorful Parrot that sits in a ring.  This will go on my front porch this year.  He is so inviting. 

My next fun purchase is going to be a whimsical Boudoir Stool.  I have actually been looking for a larger table similar to this with long legs and high heels to no avail.  So for now this one shall be it for me. 

Probably not very exciting to anyone but me.  Yup I am very happy with my Parrot and my Folies Bergere Bouroir Stool...and my new used SUV. 

Laters.....

 

 

If I Should Die, Before I Wake......(Please let my bathroom be clean) by Diane Ogden

 

So what does my Bathroom have to do with Cemetery Lane? I will tell you. We are supposed to live each day as though it is our last, correct? Not too hard! I worked a long day today, came home a tad tired, walked the dog Gracie Allen, grabbed a bite of food, meandered into my bathroom for a shower, and noticed it was nasty in there. It is the bathroom off my bedroom, not the guest bathroom of course. Make up strewn about the counter, toothbrush lying out in the open, hot curlers with a basket of hot curler clips, and of course a blow dryer,  hair spray, a sink with spots of toothpaste, eeewww.....the mirror has specs of "do dah days" all over it. I was sure I would stick to the hairspray on the floor should I step out of the shower with wet feet. Dust on the towel holder....Along with yesterday's work clothes still aside the shower from yesterday. Lordie sakes alive! Should I die before I wake and anyone sees that mess I shall just die again. I pray the Lord my soul to take and get someone in here to clean it up before my family sees it. Who me? What a legacy that would be to leave in their last memory of me. S H U T - U P! But then there are a couple of kitchen drawers to die for also.  And we cant wash our underwear every day just in case we croak or a bus runs over us, can we? But we can be somewhat tidy in our homes and cars and minds just in case we bite the dust or ashes. Who thinks of all this stuff? Me, I do...the obsessive compulsive neurotic. I am not either, My Mother is.
So until we meet again, tomorrow or wherever......be safe, be happy, be well, and get rich so you can hire someone to clean your bathroom in case you croak and your family see's your dirty unders and such.    Laters