Rawhide, "Head 'em Up and Move 'em Out!..........by Diane Ogden

First of all I will tell you I am not

prej·u·dice

noun

noun: prejudice; plural noun: prejudice:  preconceived opinion that is not based on reason or actual experience.!!!!!!!!!!

That being said....It was the day to shop for food.  I drove to my regular Grocery Store, pulled in and the same dang thing happened that has many times before, but worse.  I wondered if there was a full moon, or if I was really tired and accidentally drove to Hells Gate (Wal Mart).  Nope I wasn't.  Then the noise hit my brain....  A radio on full blast from an old van parked in the front of the entrance and in every one's way.  Yes totally in the way as usual.  I couldn't move, others were at a similar standstill and we were not in L.A. traffic.  We were at Woodman's West small town Madison Wisco  listening to RAP and watching a family of a different ethnicity beating (okay so not beating but giving the impression it was about to happen) their kids.  Watching one of them walking away from said van with "pants down." 

No one in Van attempting to hurry considering ten people walking with carts, driving vehicles in the surrounding area... are at a standstill.  I figure these sort of folk need attention....and I wanted so badly to give it to them full force.  But I knew better because sometimes those Grocery Parking Lot Hollywood wannabee's make all that noise so they can get more attention.  So disturbing.  I got over that incident, finished my shopping, came out and passed ladies walking a baby speaking Asian....another man carrying his child speaking Pakistani, well you know the bubble talk. Several Spanish families speaking Spanish....  I never see many Chinese people? ?  They are saving themselves for the big takeover later.  I keep telling folks to learn to speak Chinese....cause they own us.  The boats, planes, and bankers takeover could enter at any time.  Only good thing about that would be the look on Tea Party "Boner's" (Boehner) face.  And he thought he had it made. Amazing salary, amazing retirement and so on.  I call that a case of the dumb ass.  And p.s.  Obama Care would also be in the outhouse.  "The People" tried to tell them.  The people tried to tell the Rappers that radios too loud would harm their children's hearing. Very few listen.  And by the way, when did the gates open for us to be occupied?  Was it the Bush administration?  I really don't know.  I just know that suddenly I am about to be a minority.  Seriously.  I don't mind sharing, but I sense someone sold us.....out.   Sort of like outsourcing your own.  I didn't mean to get on any soapbox.  Actually I was upset about the family that believed they owned the parking lot at everyone else's expense, when I simply went to buy food.  Hell, they are no diff than our congressman!!!!  Interesting.   I know this isn't funny or good news.  Neither is the fact my cat Buddy's poop smells so horrible I have to light matches.  And I do not feed him onion or garlic.  Guess it s time for  a stool sample.   Thank God I cant catch whatever he has. Hope not. Let me as my opinion as if I haven't already.... I say Wal Mart and Woodman's Grocery need to hire Security Guards to maintain proper parking lot social acceptability. But then its not against the law to do any of what you read here, is it?  I still say, "HEAD EM UP AND MOVE EM OUT!"  

Laters..... Be safe, Be well, Be happy, and get rich so you can shop at the upper class places. They don't beat there kids there. At least until the Chinese get here....  (frustrated!)

The Boy and The Possum................by Diane Ogden

Worked a clients home today who lives on an off street in a small town near Madison.  We finished the job, I got myself situated in my new used vehicle and as I backed out I noticed a young boy a couple houses down, standing with his bike on the side of the street.  Then I noticed a small animal laying in the middle of the street. The boy seemed to be guarding the animal from a safe distance.  I recall thinking oh my God it must be his pet cat.  As I got closer I could almost feel the boys apprehension of my vehicle.  And I could also sense his mind racing as his eyes raced along with his minds thoughts.  He was trying to mentally beg me not to run over that little animal which of course I wasn't going to.  I passed him, went around the critter which appeared to be a Possum.  A possibly not dead possum.  Now my mind was racing.  I turned the new used vehicle around just as the mailman came from the direction I had been driving.  Oh my God, don't hit the critter I thought!  I then saw the young boy mentally begging the mailman not to run over the not so dead yet Possum.

I truly hate coming upon situations such as this one.  I wondered how many hours the boy was going to straddle his bike while guarding the critter from the curb and mentally begging passersby not to hit it again.
Well, I went a few blocks and stopped.  I called the number I had on my smart phone for animal control.  The number had been disconnected.  Crap!  They used to come for birds, and or any small animals in need.  Suppose their funding stopped.  Then I called another animal number I had and they said they don't do that anymore and I should call the Police.  Oh sure!  Well I did.  I am quite sure the officer thought me a bit crazy telling him about a small boy on his bike trying to protect a not yet dead possum over on Shady Lane.  So I said a little prayer for the Possum and the Boy and drove on.  Not without thinking how sweet that boy must be.  And hoping that little Possum was just stunned and will get up and mosey on down the road.  I always finish bad dreams and such with a good ending.  Gotta.  Cant carry the weights otherwise.   Laters......
Photo from: www.fiascowines.wordpress.com

One Bath a Year.........................by Diane Ogden(from facebook)

• Marlene Sylvestre's photo.

  

  
  

  Absolutely riveting!
  
  They used to use urine to tan animal skins, so families used to all pee in a pot & then once a day it was taken & sold to the tannery........if you had to do this to survive you were "Piss Poor" But worse than that were the really poor folk who couldn't even afford to buy a pot.....they "didn't have a pot to piss in" & were the lowest of the low. The next time you're washing your hands and complain because the water temperature isn't just how you like it, think about how things used to be. Here are some facts about the 1500s:-
  
  Most people got married in June because they took their yearly bath in May, and they still smelled pretty good by June. However, since they were starting to smell . ..... . brides carried a bouquet of flowers to hide the body odor. Hence the custom today of carrying a bouquet when getting Married.
  
  Baths consisted of a big tub filled with hot water. The man of the house had the privilege of the nice clean water, then all the other sons and men, then the women and finally the children. Last of all the babies. By then the water was so dirty you could actually lose someone in it.. Hence the saying, "Don't throw the baby out with the Bath water!"
  
  Houses had thatched roofs-thick straw-piled high, with no wood underneath. It was the only place for animals to get warm, so all the cats and other small animals (mice, bugs) lived in the roof. When it rained it became slippery and sometimes the animals would slip and fall off the roof... Hence the saying "It's raining cats and dogs."
  
  There was nothing to stop things from falling into the house. This posed a real problem in the bedroom where bugs and other droppings could mess up your nice clean bed. Hence, a bed with big posts and a sheet hung over the top afforded some protection. That's how canopy beds came into existence.
  
  The floor was dirt. Only the wealthy had something other than dirt. Hence the saying, "Dirt poor."
  
  The wealthy had slate floors that would get slippery in the winter when wet, so they spread thresh (straw) on floor to help keep their footing. As the winter wore on, they added more thresh until, when you opened the door, it would all start slipping outside. A piece of wood was placed in the entrance-way. Hence: a thresh hold.
  
  In those old days, they cooked in the kitchen with a big kettle that always hung over the fire... Every day they lit the fire and added things to the pot. They ate mostly vegetables and did not get much meat. They would eat the stew for dinner, leaving leftovers in the pot to get cold overnight and then start over the next day. Sometimes stew had food in it that had been there for quite a while. Hence the rhyme: Peas porridge hot, peas porridge cold, peas porridge in the pot nine days old.
  
  Sometimes they could obtain pork, which made them feel quite special. When visitors came over, they would hang up their bacon to show off. It was a sign of wealth that a man could, "bring home the bacon." They would cut off a little to share with guests and would all sit around and "chew the fat".
  
  Those with money had plates made of pewter. Food with high acid content caused some of the lead to leach onto the food, causing lead poisoning death. This happened most often with tomatoes, so for the next 400 years or so, tomatoes were considered poisonous.
  
  Bread was divided according to status. Workers got the burnt bottom of the loaf, the family got the middle, and guests got the top, or the upper crust.
  
  Lead cups were used to drink ale or whisky. The combination would Sometimes knock the imbibers out for a couple of days. Someone walking along the road would take them for dead and prepare them for burial... They were laid out on the kitchen table for a couple of days and the family would gather around and eat and drink and wait and see if they would wake up. Hence the custom of holding a wake.
  
  England is old and small and the local folks started running out of places to bury people. So they would dig up coffins and would take the bones to a bone-house, and reuse the grave. When reopening these coffins, 1 out of 25 coffins were found to have scratch marks on the inside and they realized they had been burying people alive... So they would tie a string on the wrist of the corpse, lead it through the coffin and up through the ground and tie it to a bell. Someone would have to sit out in the graveyard all night (the graveyard shift.) to listen for the bell; thus, someone could be, "saved by the bell" or was considered a "dead ringer". And that's the truth...
  
  Now, whoever said History was boring?

1991 Baby Blanket...................... by Diane Ogden

In the year 1991, sounds like the song......"In the year 2525, If Man is still alive." And so the song goes.  Back to 1991when we were alive and younger and when I cut up about fifteen of my daughters infant and toddler outfits and created a baby quilt for her.  Not a baby quilt like the fancy quilters do in this decade.  Nope, just plain old squares of comforted memories  sewn together into a patchwork quilt that she slept with for twenty two years.

 

A couple of years ago she moved in with me during one of her transition periods in life.  That is when I noticed the "blankie quilt"  was dying a slow and ragged death.   I happened to have a neighbor who was a quilter.  (I didn't really know the depth of that word until later)  I asked my neighbor if she would MEND the blankie quilt as it was fraying.  I wanted her to top stitch it like they do finished quilts.  I believed that would preserve it and stop the disintegration process.  She took it home.  She did not stitch it.  Nope.  She tore the back off.  Took a few of the patches off (OMG), brought it back in smithereens  (and old term for a mess) and told me she didn't have time to fix it.  OMG again.  When my daughter found it she cried giant L.E. Phant tears.  That was about two years ago.  You might have guessed I haven't found time to fix it either.  Well last weekend a creative bug snuck into my apartment and hollered my name next to the word blankie quilt.  So I pulled it out of the antique wardrobe along with my shoebox of sewing supplies and pinned it back together. Next I climbed up into the spare room closet and took down the sewing machine from the top rack.  Blew the dust off her and set to stitching.  Turned out pretty good so far.  I still have to re-embroider the center square that read:  "1991,   For Lindsay,    Love Mother."   Can you believe the quilter neighbor lady threw the old one away.  It was legible, merely needed a new backing to secure it.

The clothes Lindsay wore were hand-me-downs from her cousin Erin, and from an aunts children.  There are pajama's, corduroy bibs, sweatshirt emblems, shirt pieces, and so on.

 Here are a few pictures I took of the process.  It still needs the embroidered center piece and the backing.  Maybe it will be her 25th birthday present. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Oh For Some Sweet Sleep.................by Diane Ogden

Once again my little farmette strikes with a vengeance.  I mean it.  I have not slept a full night for days.  I wake up at 2:00 or 3:00  and lay there listening to the brain chatter.  So on goes the TV to kill the brain chatter only to hear other chatter called The Insomniacs News.  If I could black out the light from the TV I could have a working plan. 

Anyway, night before last I decided to dig out the SAGE and burn a bit of the brush to rid the house of any unwanted, unwelcome, and unreal visitors who might be chiming in on my well deserved sleep.  That stuff is amazing.  One time I took a couple deep breaths of the stuff (its pure) and I dreamed a novel I just finished.  This time I merely sauntered through the house smoking it up to the place the dang smoke alarm when off.  But I did get rid of the pesky spirits I think were bugging me.  I was sleeping like a baby when I awoke to a sound and a wet feeling on my arm.  I scream-hollered a very bad word followed by "father forgive me" as my cat Lucy just catpueck sprayed my face and arm as I "hurled" her off my used to be clean sheets.  I was up!!!  And the clock said, 3:30 a.m.

 

So the next night, last night rolls around and I burn SAGE again.  I cant give up.  I was out like a light when suddenly I feel something warm on my hand.  I have never woke up unconsciously  hitting anything or anyone until last night.  I came out of a dead type sleep to a 6 lb. dog licking my hand and between my fingers.  I rose up with a rage patting her with both hands and speaking loudly also!  Poor thing was so scared.  No worries I cuddled her after she hopefully got the no no licking mom's hands or anything else in the middle of the night message, and put her under the covers.  I could not believe it.  Still cant.  She has never ever done that since I got her in 2007! Oh, and the clock read 3:30 a.m.

 I think the unwanted, unwelcome, unreal visitors are now indirectly visiting my little animals  to get to me.  I know I didn't eat any chicken or anything that was left on my hands to draw the tongue of my dog.  Really.  And if I put them outside the bedroom door and close it, one meows, and one cries and scratches on the door.  I may call a vet to come over and put them all down and out of my misery.  I might not be joking.  I need a vacation from pets.
Don't you know I am eager for bedtime tonight??  Right?    Laters .....

Male Mammory Glands ..........by Diane Ogden

So this is Bud Ogden alias Bob Ogden, now called Buddy!  He came to me very sick.  I spent $500 getting him well.  He bit my granddaughter and caused family issues.  He is jealous of my dog and my other cat who has sight issues so I must keep them separate which causes issues for me.   He tries to bite my dog because I give the dog more attention.  I have to so he wont bite her.  I carry her around so he cannot reach her.  Why have I not taken him to the "Humane" Society?  Because they told me they cant adopt him out as he is a  biter.  So - Yuppers,  I got me a sit-che-a-tion!  What to do?  IDK.  I just cant kill him is all.  How humane is that? He used to be so loving until he got well and thought I cared more about the dog, which caused jealousy biting.  He doesn't bit often, just now and then randomly. Just like a human yet unable to reason this out or speak it out.
I sincerely need that Cat whisperer fellow on the TV but I suspect he costs thousands.  No I pretty much know it.  I tried whispering to Buddy but he just looks at me like, "Ah actions speak louder lady!"   I get it.  I just do not know how to fix it.  He needs a one animal one person home.  And more activity considering he is humongous!  I can hardly lift him and he has trouble jumping up on the sofa.  Actually he is unable to jump onto the table.  He has to do the chair first and then the table.  He is very careful to jump down and actually it should be called clumps down. 
I feel like his spirit is crumbling.  He used to follow me everywhere, scampering behind me and almost tripping me.  Now he has given up some.  He knows the routine.  In the spare room ALONE at night (I put TV on low so he isn't alone)   In the morning I leave the other cat in my room and Buddy gets to be with me (and the dog) for three hours.  Then he goes to my bedroom for the work day ALONE.   When I get home the other cat has to go to my bedroom ALONE until bedtime so Buddy can be with dog and I for five hours.  Then back to spare room for the night and so on.  I guess he is alive and not sick anymore, yet fat and somewhat lonely.  So what do I do? 
Sorry this isn't very interesting.  Guess this is a thorn in my side I must figure out somehow and I do believe there is way for a better life for my lil fat boy Buddy. 
When they ask me to donate on the key pad at the Pet Smart Store I quickly hit NO!  I have done donated enough for many a year thank  you.   And p.s. he favors my dogs special diet food at $2.69 a can which should last for three days for the dog unless Buddy gets his share when I''m not looking. 
Maybe he's a classy cat after all and I just need to give him some more time to feel more secure and not bite anyone.  Seems to be his forte.  I cant spell that.  I wonder if Google can tell what word I was going after there.  I wonder if I even know for sure.  No matter, you get it. 
I think I am doing what they call, "Crying out for help?"  Ya think!   There is an answer and I shall find it.  I will Google what Saint helps the needy animals, that's what I will do.  I am not Catholic but I strongly believe in the Saints!  Hey look at St. Jude and St. Christopher.  They got it down.  But I suspect there are some quieter Saints that got a good thing going too and I will find them for Buddy. 
He deserves a chance.  Besides he is an expensive lil son of a something.  He does love to play and just wants to be loved by one person, no other "beings" around to contend with and then the biting will stop.  (He doesn't do it much, just random as I said)    And what's with the humongous mammary glands on a guy cat?  Seriously.  Maybe he is a transvestite cat.  Or maybe he is a gay cat?  Hey I am just trying to figure it out okay?  We, or I got an issue here see?  I am reaching out to the Universe, or facebook, or friends, or family, or God, or Buddha, or the Catholic Saints, for sakes sakes.  I was going to say for God sakes, but I had already bypassed that one which my Lutheran brethren would faint over.  Hey they have had wars over it so fainting over it means some evolvement has occurred.  The Pope would care.  Most don't care about Buddy, but I do.  Laters.....on a lighter note I am sure. 

Parking War??................by Diane Ogden

Okay, truth be told I need to have an open mind so I can decide if there is a parking war going on in the building I live in.  That would be in the parking garage.  Usually I pull into my stall and if I am too close on either side I put my lil truck in R and fix it! 

Today I may not have fixed it as usual which may or may not have pee-d off the neighboring vehicle.  (Which is a rare occurrence on both calls)  As you can see from the photos the neighboring vehicle had MUCH room to put his/her car in R and fix the situation so I might be able to get into my lil truck in the morning to go to work.  My thoughts are:  Maybe she had diarrhea and had no time to put her vehicle in R and give me room to get into mine for work.  Maybe she was angry that I parked too close to the line and decided to really be a buttzo. 

Maybe she didn't even notice and I am over-analyzing.  Fat-chance!  I can only hope she goes to work before I do in the morning.  And of course I don't hope anyone does this to her.  ha.  Hey I am always nice to that person.  Laters........