https://youtu.be/ow5bPIeVTzU

The Horrors That Hide by Julianna Rowe (coming Soon)

Wednesday, November 13, 2013

Never Try to Outcon a Con............................by Diane Ogden

I found myself falling in love with LaReigne Lucrece at this later stage in my life.  He came to me totally out of the blue (by accident) one day at a red light.  Yes a red light.  I was acting up as usual with my comedic Halloween bloody leg hanging out the side of my car with a magnetic sign next to it saying, "My Last X Husband."   That produced LaReigne to jump out of his little convertible sports machine, run around to my side of the truck and hand me his card.  He said, "Call me Babe, or I'll call you...."  You see my number is on the side of my vehicle in the form of an employment advertisement.
Several days past with no call from the handsome Frenchman.  And then my phone rang, only to hear the very raspy voice of LaReigne Lucrece.  I cant say I was not pleased. Of course I was and to say I hadn't waited for it would be a lie.
As time passed we became very close as well as intimately close.  He was the most romantic lover I had experienced in my life.  No really.  He seemed to love me from somewhere deep inside his soul along with every other part of his being.  I was not used to a man that gave of himself so deeply and with such intent.
My neighbor, who leaned toward hearing from the beyond stopped in to blatantly tell me not to see this man anymore as he is known for sleeping with women and then telling them he has to leave the country for various reasons.   I argued with her, saying no no, he loves me.  She flipped her long black hair and curtly walked out of my apartment saying, "You will see Missy!"
The affair continued a glorious few weeks longer. Then without any warning one evening after an amazing lovemaking session, you know, the kind where it seemed extra intent was at hand?  It was then he told me he needed to talk to me about something.  I obviously was not prepared for what came next although I handled it perfectly, thanks to my neighbor and the fact I was not a young woman with a brain of mush.  He said, "I rent out my home in Paris to friends and famous people for parties.  There have been some problems and I have to go back and take care of them. I hope you will understand my little Cheri."  I did not flinch nor fall apart.  I did not cry.  I did not react in anyway whatsoever except to offer up a slight grin.  He immediately caught it and said, "What is that?  No, what is that? I said, "Oh nothing, I understand how these things can happen.  So when are you leaving?"  He replied to me as soon as possible.  I said, "Well lets have an outing before you go LaReigne?  One last outing?  Okay?"    I found myself listening intently to what he might have to say.  I decided I wanted to follow this game out to the end.  Who knows, might make for a good book someday.  I never did know when to quit. Nor did I ever learn to play poker.   I should have.
The following day LeReigne and I  picnicked near the lake.  We were walking and reminiscing close to a wooded area when my neighbor, the one that foretells the future, comes walking out of the woods and down a hill towards us saying loudly how she is aware of his intentions, how dare he do this to her friend, we have all told her who you are and what you are like.  What you have done to many of the women in your past.
LaReigne stopped dead, turned and looked directly into my eyes just as he did when he made passionate love to me.  I pretended to be stunned.  To know nothing of what this woman was spewing.  That is when I looked at her and said, "STOP!"   He turned and walked away.  It was too late for me to repair the damage.  Stupid woman anyway! I wanted so badly to turn the tables on LaReigne.  For once I wanted to come out on the head end of a deal vs the tail end.  I have always heard one should never try to con a con. And I had and I had lost.  And now he was gone forever.
After the Frenchman ordeal settled down I was summoned to a property my family owned.  I was to prepare it for sale.  I had never seen it before so I put the address in my GPS and headed out for the county side.  I didn't tell anyone where I was going.  Something I forgot to do more than once.
After what seemed like thirty miles I finally came to the address. I couldn't see the main property until I followed the long driveway up to what appeared to be a huge mansion.  It looked like something out of a movie set.  The garage door opener worked so I pulled right in like I owned the place.  I guess I did in reality.  I was selling it for our family trust even though I knew very little about it.  I was about to discover more than I wanted or needed to know.  When I initially walked in all appeared to be a normal, yet a very royal mansion.  Marble floors, gold embossed framing around each doorway, as well as the intricate wood carvings surrounding each fireplace in every room.  Still there was a very erie feeling surrounding me.  The thought came more than once that I should let someone know where I was.  Yet I did not. I made it up the winding staircase to the second floor and  couldn't help but notice how many rooms there were with closed doors.  And in the center of all these doors were barred rooms.  Oh my God it was a prison.  The entire second floor of our family mansion was a prison.  What was behind the doors?  I tried to open one but I was not able to.  I pushed as hard as I could and it only budged enough for me to see light through the crack.  Those doors had not been opened for  many years.  It was then I was halted in my every movement and thought.  I heard voices.  Here I am in an old mansion, out in the middle of no where, a jailhouse with locked doors all around it, I am hearing voices and no one knows where I am.  I just need to get out of here and now. It was at that moment that I recognized LeReigne's voice.  What was he doing here?  Fear began to rush through every cell of my body.  My rational mind concluded this could be him trying to gain hold of my families property in some way.  I found my way down the stairs and out into the garage.  My spirit sensed he knew I was there.  The men with him were there to help him kill me.
On the floor was a piece of paper with a small round type metal item that looked like a battery. His plan was to soak that in gasoline. Pretend that it was a love letter he intended to give me when he left for Paris.  But when I took it, it was to blow up in my hand and take me out.  My spirit told me this.  I decided to reverse his game.  Do it to him instead.  I jumped into my vehicle.....put it in reverse. My intention was to get down that driveway and out of there.  Forget winning any game with LaReigne.  Get out and back to the reality of my old life in the city.  It was then that I went into fear mode.  I couldn't tell if I was in drive, or reverse, or neutral.  I was terrified. I couldn't recall if my doors were locked or even which way the lever went to lock/unlock. At that point, LaReigne jumped into my vehicle.  He stared into my eyes grinning.  I had lost once again and on a larger scale than I ever dreamed could happen to this small town woman. I had lost at life once again.  I had nothing else to lose.  I drove as fast as I could to the end of the driveway.....the only control I had was behind the wheel of that vehicle and he was not going to take that away too. No one would ever take that away again.  I pulled out of that driveway of life into the path of an oncoming semi going 70 mph.  I had just enough time to look into LaReigne's eyes and soul and smile letting him know I won.
Just remember never try to con and con.  This time: No one won that game. No one.

Saturday, November 9, 2013

Bob Benjamin Morrison Ogden

I am working on a new blog called "Bob Benjamin Morrison Ogden" to be out soon.  A compelation (I think I just made that word up) of the many trials and works of Bob Ogden, boy feline character.  And its all true.  From time outs inside, to escapes outside.  He is something else again.  I am working on dressing him up for the blog portraits and you ask, "How's that going for me?"   Not so good yet.  Might have to take up photoshopping for sure.

I tried to put a build a bear blonde wig on him, and, well, you had to be there!  He must not be into blondes.  I appreciate his likes and dislikes as he is learning to appreciate (listen) to mine.  Time outs in the bedroom work wonders with Bob Benjamin Morrison Ogden. They occur when he gets too rough with Lucycat.  Hey, I only leave him in there for five minutes.  He gets it!!  So all this said, be in waiting for the new blog posts starting from the time I rec'd the sick lil squirt to present.  That being February end to November 9th, 2013.  He does make my life more interesting to say the least.  Just wish he would let me put his hats and necklaces on.  He's napping right now considering this morning I overdosed him with all natural catnip BUD'S!

They were strong to the moon which is where I presume he and Lucy cat both tripped to........before they returned to Ogdenland, USA......   Our normal residence.

Saturday, November 2, 2013

SMILE RICH or Stay Poor...............by Diane Ogden

I did what I said I was not going to do.  I went back to the grocery store where people scream at their children and park in the no park zones for long periods of time while their car radio (stereo system) reverberates the pavement in all directions, along with my brain.  Which I presume could cause me to have a brain concussion from the percussion!  But I went anyway.

I traveled the entire huge store from one end to the other and noticed a lot, no, I noticed most of these people were unhappy sour faced folks.

 So I decided to run a test the last ten -twenty minutes I was shopping, checking out and walking out. I put a perpetual smile on my face.  I looked directly into each persons eyes and smiled like I loved them sincerely.  I tell you not even ONE person smiled back at me.  I speak the truth on that one.  I was blown away.  Some would look right into my eyes with the face of a stone. Some even scary.


I got to my truckie, then to the drive up lane for grocery pic up.  The sweet young man was SMILING.  I said, "Have you noticed people are plain unhappy today.  No one is smiling."  He said, Yeah, it's that way around here, but I am smiling, cause I don't pay no attention to them."  He wished me a wonderful rest of my day and I did likewise.


Then I was time to go buy myself some fresh flowers for the week.

 I decided to run my smile test again. This time at the rich store.  Or the store that charges unbelievable prices for the same goods I get at the unhappy people cheap store.  Every single person I smiled at smiled back at me.  Every one of them!  That right there told me:  People with money, richer people are happy people.  Poor people are unhappy people.  See?  My test say so.   Even the Bible says it.  "To those with much, more will be given."  The rich get richer and the poor go to the unhappy store and stay poor.  Smiles make you rich.  That is why I have a million dollars.  (Well its on it way)  Because I am a walking smile.  Even if I do not feel like it I do it.  Scientist have proven when a person smiles their brain automatically releases endorphins...The good bugs.  That must also mean when you smile you are calling in your money too.
So be happy, be well, be safe, and SMILE so you are rich and can go to the Happy Store and stave off any and all concussions .  Laters......

Thursday, October 31, 2013

Gold Crown Down..................by Diane Ogden

Today was a normal day.  Well most of it anyway.  I usually fix myself a home-made hamburger on a toasted wheat bun with catsup, mustard, mayo, and one slice of Wisconsin cheese every morning.  I cool it off and place it in a non glass (plastic) container what is probably full of BPA and put it in my lunch bag.  I cut 1/4 of its end off and eat that for breakfast if anyone cares. TMI.  Well it came time to have my lunch today so I placed it in my clients microwave for 23 seconds.  Perfecto.   I took one delicious bit and then another.  That is when I felt something unfamiliar in my mouth other than my daily homemade burger.

And then an almost crunch down.  I think when we humans get a bit on the older side we tend to stop the crunch down before it happens.  Maybe its the mind thinking slower, but I caught a visualization of one of my teeth "a lose" in the midst of a mouthful of chewed burger, mayo, cheese, catsup, and mustard on a toasted wheat bun.  Not a pretty mental sight. More like a bad dream. That means I halted the crunch before it could kill any of my other pearlies.  I expelled the contents of my mouth into my hand.  OMG eewww, worse than the mental image I imagined.  Picked out the shiny large gold crown and expelled a bad word from that same mouth.
Because the next mental picture was me pushing a grocery cart under a bridge wearing rags after handing my dentist a stack of $100-$1,000 dollar bills all tied neatly with a gold bow.  Now picture that 8x10 glossy.
When I regained my senses I put the crown in a baggie and then placed the baggie in my money bag.  An appropriate placement I would say.
I was feeling sorry for myself so I emailed a friend and told her what happened.  She instantly replied that I should super glue it back to the remaining tooth it fell off of.  Seriously?  Seriously?  Now I know she is a redneck.  My GAD (generalized anxiety disorder) was screaming inside my head.  It was screaming, "Sure, super glue it you idiot.  Go ahead so it can fall off in the middle of the night and you will choke to death on it with no one around to give you the Heimlich!!"  That did it.  There will be no super gluing going on.  Maybe if I turn in all the gold teeth I have saved  (in my jewelry box) and my set of good silver ware I would have enough to fix the dang tooth.  Its only been five hours and it is cutting the underside of my sweet tougue.  The one I use a lot everyday. No sense to being angry.  It's life is all.  I started out in life getting teeth and now I am ending up loosing them.  Now if you work for a fancy corporation, who are in cahoots with the medical profession via insurance corps and you would have no problem at all.  Maybe I will super glue it after all.  Maybe I am a redneck.  Nawh. I really don't own anything that is duct taped.


Monday, October 28, 2013

Craigs List Killer.............by Diane Ogden

I have about fifty old VHC movie camera tapes with no home.  No VCR to view them on. No battery life in the old camera's to view them on.  And companies charging $35.00 a tape to copy them to DVD.  I figured by the time I got that accomplished, DVD's would be dead and gone too.  So, I checked around and discovered my x-sister-in-law had one which she dug off her basement storage shelf and sent it hoem with me. It didn't work with the new gadget I purchased as the "go-between" of my camera / computer / DVD burner.
Next I ventured into killer land (Craig's List) and found one about a forty five minutes away.  We played computer email tag for over a week or so.  Made and appointment and I drove, with my lil' dog in tow, to said city.  I entered the address in my GPS and Dotti directed us all the way.  Got to thinking no one knew where I was or was going so I phoned up my x-sister-in-law who I knew was having a family bash all day but I called anyway.  She obligingly took down the address my GPS was taking me to and we said our goodbyes.  You know, in case he, who turned out to be a Mike, turned out to be an ax murderer and chopped me into little pieces and left my dog in the street alone.  You know, that sort of thing.
I got to the address and sure enough it was run down with an old, I mean old rusty camper truck parked aside the driveway half on the grass.  Classless, get it?  I made up my mind not to go in.  So I called Mike, told him I was out front and would he bring her out.  "Her," ha.   He did.  And he was odd to say the least.  He just didn't look like a normal human being is all.  Strange.  Not just to me, he would have looked strange to anyone he met.   I rolled down my window a tad and handed strange man $10 for the best VCR I have ever seen.  I may have to buy some old movies at garage sales just to use it more.  A fancy Sony.  Mike put it in the backseat and Gracie Allen dog and I split city...  ALIVE!  Phweew.  When I got "her" home she worked out perfectly to scan my movies into DVD's.
So that was Saturday noon.  Today is Monday afternoon and I call my x-sister-in-law who was supposed to send the Police if she didn't hear from me.  She FORGOT!  She said she was too embarrassed to call me this morning to tell me she forgot about me.  Then she was afraid I had been chopped into little pieces by the Craig's List killer.  She was so afraid she didn't want to call to find out!  Her words were, 'I am the worst assie friend ever."  I laughed at first and then realized how serious this could have been.  She is right, she is the worst assie friend ever.  That is if you need someone to have your back. Was she waiting to hear about it on the news?
Well I didn't die.  I got an excellent VCR for $10 and I am making Christmas gifts with it.  Let's see, $35 x 50 videos = $1,750.00 for $10 VCR, $60 for transfer unit, $50 for DVD's = I saved a zillion.  Well at least......$1,630.00.  That was worth the possibility of getting chopped up by a Craig's List killer, right?
Hey, I thought someone had my back.  But then so did Sandra Bullock and she is still hummin' along quite well, as I am.

Sunday, October 27, 2013

Grandiose..... by Diane Ogden

gran·di·ose

adjective \ˈgran-dē-ˌōs, ˌgran-dē-ˈ\
: seeming to be impressive or intended to be impressive but not really possible or practical.
 
As I sit here eating popcorn by the handful, watching a Hugh Jackman movie on my tablet,  and over thinking the fact I might need a root canal and crown on a totally exposable front tooth. My dog is lying in her bed below my work area while in "heat," and my cat is laying next to my keyboard
spread eagle meaning there is hair all over my Autumn gold tablecloth, along with my shirt full of dog hair from the earlier holding session. The other cat walking around making noise as she feels left out.  Of course she is, she has OCD and anxiety issues. That was one heck of a run on sentence until I fixed it.  But it matches My life at least today.  (who am I kidding?)  Not to mention I have eaten most everything in site today due to the stress level of a mouse with a cat standing overhead with no escape.  Yes that much.
So where does grandiose come in?  I was invited to become a paid computer geek for a non functioning (well almost) website.  A nice website by the way. By someone that has written three books and uses words I still need to find and learn.  He needs a blogger, a promoter, and a social networker.  Heck I cant even get my own or  my friends blog "out there" like I want.  I have tried.  As for blogging, I prefer lightweight humor. Not life from five billion days ago to five minutes ago.   My lifelong humor has left the building for a time, but I have full faith it will return when a couple of heavyweight issues are solved or I learn how to kick "them" to the curb.  Working hard on that one.
Okay back to grandiose.  We all have or should have some grandiose ideas.  Having them gets us to the place of reality we truly should be in the first place.
Me, I dream of having a best seller book.  I even have an outfit or two picked out for the book signing deals.  When in fact I have learned I need some classes in sentence structure.  Doesn't mean I cant have my dreams and my outfit.  That is what keeps us going.  I do have limitations.  I realize I will never be on OPRAH but I might just publish a book that will stand tall on a rack at Barnes and Noble.  Damn right.  And maybe my special cookies will be spotted and mass produced for the world, well maybe a store or two.  Then there are my inventions...  They seem to stay in my head and then three years later I see them on a counter in some store or magazine. 
Some days I want to lock the door, put the cat litter and car dog bed in the truckie, drain the savings account and GPS my way to somewhere unknown. Or just drive for days.  P.S.  Leaving no forwarding address.  Is that GRANDIOSE?  Maybe.  So what.  That is my true definition of grandiose.
 
 

Saturday, October 12, 2013

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!)


Monday, October 7, 2013

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

Tuesday, September 24, 2013

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?

Monday, September 23, 2013

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. 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

Wednesday, September 18, 2013

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 .....

Friday, September 13, 2013

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. 

Monday, September 9, 2013

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........ 

Friday, August 30, 2013

I 'm "HOT!" ..................by Diane Ogden

You know, there is hot, and then there is hot!  And I had a hot one.  That would be a job at a clients home where there was no clean fresh air from anywhere.  There was a fan blowing hot air around.  And on the counter was something else that was hot besides me.  When I saw what I saw, I knew I had to take a photo of what I saw.....  a stick of butter MELTING from the ridiculous heat inside that house.

 No one's fault of course.  I didn't have to go there.  I chose to go and suffer like the butter.  (I did not know it would be that hot in that house and I bet the butter didn't either!)  I put it in the fridge for a half hour to give it some relief because it was "separating" from itself.  I understood totally considering it has been over 100 degrees around here lately. We have all been separating from ourselves (our senses) from the heat. 

Laters.........  Be safe, be well, be happy, and get rich so you never experience what I did today! Hey it will be cold her in about three weeks so no biggie.

photo from: http://artcontrarian.blogspot.com/2011/06/dundblom
Good Housekeeping - Mr 1933

Tuesday, August 27, 2013

French Country or NOT!.............by Diane Ogden

I love French Country magazines, furniture, lighting fixtures, red and yellow gingham materials, flowered curtains and most decorating ideas.  But today I ran across "over the top."  And I am talking way over the top.  I actually giggled. I wouldn't want to say that I laughed out loud in case the photo has a technical trail back to its owner who has an amazing over the top decorating blog.  Would not want to hurt anyone's feelings.  But hey.....look at this, seriously look at this.  p.s. that is a dining room table, not a bed in the dining room with dead people dressed up, sitting in chairs watching you sleep.
I do not mean to make fun of anyone in life.  It is just that I do not like this. 

I am not going to say anything that might be taken as negative.  I guess this just isn't my style and to put the French Country label to it, humm. Or maybe I am CURED from it.  May go back to contemporary after this viewing.  Sorry Penny, no offense meant.
 
My type of French Country with Class: Everyone's different and that's okay.
 
 
 
  
 


 
 

Thursday, August 22, 2013

Air Bag Truth................by Diane Ogden

It was storming hard this morning while driving to work.  The trees were bending and branches falling in front of me.  I wondered why I don't carry diapers on days like this.  Seriously it was frightening.  Not to mention getting stuck at every red light twice. 

I noticed my air bag light came on only to say OFF.  I recalled the definition in the manual said it meant there was not enough weight in the seat for the item to be safe.  But the item was heavy enough to tell the vehicle computer it was not a good thing.  Child too small!  Air bag kill. 

My purse never makes the air bag light come on.  But today was different.  Today I packed a whopping lunch because it was going to be a long one. Day that is.  My lunch is in the green Whole Fools Bag.  I mean Whole Foods Bag.  Any fool would know that.  I packed so much food my trucks air bag thought it was a small kid!  That's it.  I will be re-thinking how much I am eating from now on.  Air Bag lights don't lie.  I think my pants feel tight.  Imagination?  Could be.  Could just be the Air Bag Light has freaked me out.  I didn't wreck so my lunch didn't get killed!  But I feel awful cause I ate the whole thing.  Laters.........

photo from: www.withoutagym.net