P.S. Berdie died last night between 9:00 and 10:30 p.m Bye Bye Berdie I love you Forever

Bye Bye "Birdie" by Diane Ogden

No not Ann Margaret or Janet Leigh in the original movie, but Berdie, you  know, Berdus Knickmeier. (And that's me with her in the photo about ten years ago.) She is in room 261 at the Nazareth House which I don't think has been painted or refurbished in many many years.  Money I suppose. Isn't it always a matter of money?  Green paper? Be different if it were hard gold right before "me" eyes, but its Green Paper that rules the world and Berdie's dying mill where she lives.  I know I know, this isn't happy news from this lady today.  Hey my God Mother is dying in a room all by herself.  They check on her every hour and a half!  No one called Hospice because maybe they are just hick's, I don't know. No wait, the Green Paper is why no one called Hospice. Her Green Paper ran out.
Hey! Nurses did put an oxygen mask on her so she wasn't grey anymore. Now she can live another day in that joint, struggling to die. Hopefully they will give her the "big dose" unbeknown to anyone so she can cross over.  They told me she was crying for her Mama yesterday morning.  That would be Tillie, my Grandma.  Berdie is approximately 98 years old.  She was OK until she fell out of bed because Wisconsin Law doesn't allow the 1/2 length bed rails to be raised at night. Why that's called restraints.  Dumb ass law! Restraints is tying down, not protecting elderly who are like children from falling out of bed..  So Berdie fell out of bed on her head....bye bye Berdie....  I love you forever. P.S. that is the same Nurse Home (Dying Mill) my Dad went to for rehabilitation after knee surgery and almost died because they never moved him.  Maybe Alzheimer's isn't so bad.  At least you don't know your in that joint! And it only hurts the ones you love. Take your pic.

Little Fake Focker Babies Numbers! by Diane Ogden

As you know from a previous blog post I have compared us to the Fockers.  A bit crazy, non conventional, yet go with the flow of the world, a tad eccentric, a bit hippie-fied, and also on the verge of upscale. And so on.  Which put together means soon.

The daughter and I are sitting in the doctors office waiting room, waiting for the blood test after drinking the nasty orange syrup that determines gestational diabetes.  In the interim daughter is asking old hippie Mom, who does simple numerology, which baby names are best suited to her personality according to the Greeks who invented numerology.  So I am adding up names on the front cover of the latest PEOPLE magazine...  Audrina, hummm....its a 1 - 3.... Great numbers but the 1 means Fake Focker Baby might butt heads with the new Fake Focker Mom?  Then there is the name Libby...3 - 9....great numbers, communicator and humanitarian. Same as the daughter.  Then there is Lily, good numbers but sounds like a dogs name. I cant remember all the names I scratched out the numbers of on that magazine front.  I think as many as possible until I ran out of writing space. 
I was also doing the crossword puzzle inside the PEOPLE magazine.  That is the first crossword puzzle I have ever done in my life. But then I have never ridden in a limo either. I usually opt for word search vs crossword.  Just like I opt for needlepoint vs cross stitch. In, out, in, out..no thinking, yet relaxing EASY! Like "Paper or Plastic?" I was like a kid at the zoo with that darn crossword puzzle...I almost finished it up had I not been requested to add up the Focker figures for the future Fake Focker family baby.   Still I was up there on a "high" cloud for finishing my first Fake Focker crossword puzzle.  I am smart, I really am.  (Note another angle relating to Sally Fields comment after receiving an award many years ago...."You like me, you really like me!" said in a childlike voice.  Boy when we mess up, sometimes we really mess up and in  a big public way no less!) So here I am in big public.....giving away my worst secret....I have never ridden in a limo.
                                             
"It is our choices...that show what we
truly are, far more than our abilities"
- J. K. Rowling

Random Cat Photo's.......by Diane Ogden

I can't give this fellow credit for his or her photo, because I grabbed it off of my I Google opening screen under Random Cat Photos. 
My last couple blog posts have not depicted so much Happy News from this lady until I came across this little lady....surely this is a lady cat right?  Maybe not, too laid back for a female? Whichever....I could only wish either of my cats or little dog would allow me this privilege.  Forget the shirt, I would be beholden to hold either cat in this manner.  One is a rescue and the other from a farm.  The rescue is a  very sweet Ferrell, not sure how to spell that one, but sure learning how to give her a quick pick up and put down.  Even after four years!  She has claws that is why the quick pic up and put down.  She begs for attention, but do not pic me up thank you.  She also eats one jar of baby food, Ham being the only flavor she will eat, every morning. The other cat is my daughters and is a cunning sort of creature. Stares me down eyeball to eyeball.  Another don't pic me up or I will dig in to get down.  So I just spend money and feed them, clean out their litter boxes, pet them as I go past.  Sort of like a couple of the husbands I used to have hanging around. I have to upgrade in all areas.  Its easier to get rid of a husband than it is these cats..... The dog makes up for it though. She only bites if I try to check her teeth, clip the poo of her boodie, clip her nails, and put a coat on her. Oh or a leash.  Who rules around here anyway?  Me or the critters? My mentor of 33 years taught me "anything for peace."  I think I took it too far!

The Endless Memories by Diane Ogden

This is one of those days. You know, one of those days where you accidentally watch a movie that brings back undeniable memories you have denied.  Or memories you have stashed in a file marked with a red X...do not ever open for what would be the good of it?  Those ones.  The sort of day when you remember Berdie... the Godmother who never really was one, yet you loved her and tended her dearly when she was placed in a nursing home (dying mill) two blocks from your home!  She cried and you loved and bought her things and visited her daily for months.  She wanted to move closer to her GRAND daughters who rarely visited her in those crying days because it was 35 miles away.  God forbid should they have all lived in Houston or Los Angeles.  She cooked for them, babysat, did craft shows, painted their homes, loved them, made them cookies all the time, and one of them she mostly raised.  Yet she wanted them...and so they moved her closer to them.  I miss her, but I don't go see her because she dissed on me.  Berdie is a gossip and will go to heaven being one.  But I prefer not to be gossiped about.  Or dissed on.  And if I am I say goodbye to those that do...even if that be a God mother who never said a word to me in my life about God.  Who couldn't hug or say thank you.  Why?  Never taught to?  Come on!!  One learns throughout life about those things.  Maybe someone told her I was a less than good person. Humm. ya think?  She fell out of bed at the new place.  Cant feed herself now.  I cried for her tonight and I felt guilty for her inability to be kind to me.  I think that might be my problem. I would like to go see Berdie....but then, what for?  She never knew what a God Mother was...maybe I was supposed to be her God Mother.  I failed and so did she.  Unless I go see her and maybe feed her, a meal or some God stuff.  Dammit Berdie...you made me sad today and I didn't need it.  Or did I?  You are 97 years old and never got it on my account anyway.  Life is like a bank account... deposits and withdrawals.  What is Berdie?  Both!  Maybe its time I made a deposit in Berdies account and mine.
(That would be me on the left walking Berdie last year) 

Dyslexia......by Diane Ogden

Dyslexia, if that is even how you spell it, is a very big word....sort of like Tires.  There must be 100,000 different types of tires out there as well as there are probably hundreds of different tributaries of and off Dyslexia.  I skipped seventy two days of my senior year because of a few of those branch offs of that word/condition.  Label? My challenges were teachers with no knowledge of my tributaries, numbers, sentence structure and retention of American History...Paperwork, especially with numbers on it scrambled like eggs. Cant put scrambled eggs back together but I do try on occasion.  I got fired from a job because I was unable to do the numbers on my deliveries...so I "eyed" them like you eye hanging a picture. It worked for a few years and I did my job pretty well until they "figured" out my "figures" weren't normal. They were close though because dyslexics learn real quick how to make a plan b. It didn't involve money of course. What dyslexic would take a job dealing with money...No way!  Oh and lest I not forgot directional dyslexia.  I go left when it says right!  Sometimes my decisions are affected by the directional dissing tributary....for instance I cant see things as clearly until they've passed.  That is what is meant by "too late!"  Or my favorite saying, "I have eyes on my ass!"  Of course I don't use that saying regularly so as not to appear dyslexically disabled which of course I am not.   I am rather extremely talented using the other side of the brain.  I draw, paint, sculpture, write, and design, all while going in the wrong direction.  I figure one of these days the tributaries will all come together at the mouth of some giant publisher and I will forgive anyone who ever thought I was less than brilliant. But for now, I am a survivor and I like me actually! Sounds like Sally Fields in the old days receiving that award, remember? She said, "You like me, you really like me!"  See, you don't have to be dyslexic or Learning Challenged to "act" dumb.  For lack of a better word at the moment. It does seem as I have grown older I can learn much easier. Maybe the brains of dyslexic humans mature later?? Or  maybe this has been another one of my imaginative dreams. You wouldn't know the truth of it unless you were in my math classes... I might donate my brain to science but that would mean I might die a slow death so its preserved better than a head on crash. Shoot...now what?  I cant wait until its over to see it  more clearly for the right answer.  Just a minute, I will turn around and read it with the other eyes!!

The 3:30 a.m. Dark Monsters......

And not the ones under the bed.  I already put the mattress on the floor for those.  And the ones under the sofa, have been replaced with photo boxes and other such monster killers.  The ones in the closet get the door shut on them before bed and disappear in the light of day.  The ones in the shower with the butcher knife aren't real, I know that.  I got it covered except for the ones outside the windows and the doors.  Since I have no decent dead-bolts, I hate that word, dead.  For something that is supposed to secure life, why is it called DEAD?  That is soooo dumb.  It should be called the living-bolt, or the life-bolt, or monsterkeeperout-bolt, or tough-bolt.  But no, every night I click on the DEAD-bolt.  Makes me feel great, not! So I con-cocked my own extra bolt called a knife-slide.  I slither a long knife in front of the door and under the woodwork.  That takes care of the outside monsters!  Now I will go to bed and dream good dreams... to hell with those monsters anyway.  They will be back, just like they visit everyone in dreams and visions... from under beds, in closets, under sofa's just before they grab your legs never to let go. When they push you off your mattress and you fall two hundred feet to the bottom of that ravine, waking up just before you smash into a millions bloody pieces! Thank God...Safe once again....until the next time that is.  I do have White Light friends called Angels, or Holy Spirits, or maybe my dead relatives and friends, maybe an old boyfriend reincarnated....and so on.  Those two, the black monsters and the white friends come and go depending on me.  What I am thinking.  If I am thinking negative then the black monsters from everywhere....if I am thinking good and wonderful no matter what...then my white Angel friends or dead relatives seem to keep those bad guys at bay!!!  Its up to me... I hate that!!