Boo to You!

When I was a little girl, I used to think there were alligators under my bed.  My sister and I slept in matching antique twin iron beds, and they were far up off the ground, so you had to hop pretty high to get into them at night.  The alligators didn't live under there during the day, you know.  Only at night, when the lights were out and little girls were supposed to be asleep.

I don't know if our parents, or a mean babysitter put this thought into my head, but I was always convinced that if I put my foot down, or let it stray outside the covers and dangle over the side of the bed, it would be bitten off by an angry alligator and all I'd be left with was a bloody stump!

I remember too, that in the darkness, as I would lay there and think about the monsters under the bed, I would also see things flying through the air above me.  If you looked real hard into the pitch black dark, you could see these tiny little red things darting back and forth real fast and I just knew they were something sinister.  Like if you put your hand up into the blackness, these little red things would hit against your arms and hand with little stinging bites.  I don't know for sure what they were.  More than likely they were the result of extreme eye strain and an over-active imagination, but next time you're laying in bed in a totally dark room, try it and see if you can spot them.

And heaven forbid if the closet door should remain open at bedtime.  Don't even get me started there!  Have you ever stared long enough into a dark, open closet and imagined the contents manifesting themselves into the most gosh-awful monsters ever set forth upon the face of the earth?  Well, I have, and then some!  Hard to believe an innocent coat can become Dracula with fangs dripping blood, just waiting to come out and bite your neck.

As a kid and young adult, I watched all the most horrifying scary movies and read the most horrendously gory books.  I loved being scared and was thrilled when a new horror film came out and we got to go and see it at the theater.  I read every Stephen King and Dean Koontz book there was.  Now, you couldn't DRAG me to a horror movie.  And I can't even get two pages into a book by Stephen King these days without slamming it shut and throwing it out.  I just don't have the tolerance for any of that any more.  I have nightmares for days just watching one episode of the latest horror series on television.  And zombies?  Forget-about-it!  No way, no how!  I can't endure anything about zombies.  If one knocked on my door, I swear I'd just die dead away, right on the spot.  He wouldn't even have to kill me first, I'd just lay down and die before he had the chance!

An occasional ghost story, I can handle.  I watch a few on tv now and then, and they aren't so bad.  As long as there's no blood and guts, I can usually watch to the end.  I might be a little jumpy the rest of the night and sleep with the lights on, but I can usually endure it.

So, here's to another Happy Halloween!  Hopefully yours will be zombie-free and only as scary as you want it to be.  One tip though:  chocolate before bed gives you the most awful nightmares.  I'm speaking from experience here, so stick to the non-chocolate candies before you fall asleep on Halloween night!  You'll be glad you did!

A Night to Remember

Stinky Boy

It was Friday evening and Hubby and I were home celebrating Dudley's 3rd birthday.  It had been raining most of the day, and we had the front door open, enjoying the night.  All three of us were in the living room and Dudley was running back and forth from his toy basket, bringing toy after toy to his Daddy who was flinging them here and there in a rambunctious game of fetch.  Dudley would pause at the front door occasionally, listening to the rain or watching the fireflies bounce around in the wet grass.  Every once in awhile he'd run out onto the porch on alert, barking at some unseen critter and we'd tease him and call him back in to keep playing.

We had been visiting via text with the man we bought Duds from three years ago, telling him how good Dudley looked and how happy and energetic he was.  We were snapping photos and sending them off so he could see how big Dudley had gotten and how handsome he'd become.  Proud parents bragging about their adorable son!  All of a sudden Dudley bolted out onto the porch again and like a flash he was shooting down the steps and I just knew he was after some terrible creature of the night!

No sooner had I stepped out the screen door when I heard this incessant squeaking and chattering and I was just in time to see the back end of a big, black skunk, tail high in the air and Dudley's face right in the line of fire!  In slow motion, I saw Dudley jump into the air like he'd been shot, shaking his head all around and I knew right then and there he was a goner.  He'd been lucky once before when he first encountered a skunk in our front yard.  That skunk was a lot friendlier than this one.  When Dudley ran up to smell its butt, he didn't do anything but chatter and squeak and run away.  This skunk, however, was not so kind.  He apparently wasn't in any mood to deal with the floppy faced bulldog that had just come charging out of the quiet little house on the hollow!

Dudley's face was all scrunched up and his eyes were glued shut but somehow he managed to stagger up the porch steps and right into the living room, stunned.  While it all seemed to be happening in slow motion, I'm sure it really occurred in a matter of seconds.  All three of us were in total shock.  Dudley was standing in the middle of the living room floor and Hubby and I were just frozen to the spot wondering if he really did get skunked or maybe he just got scared.  The smell hadn't hit us yet, but then all of a sudden like some noxious invisible cloud of doom BOOM!  The terrible onion-y smell enveloped us and were were covering our noses and went into major panic mode! 

Hubby picked Dudley up in his arms and ran into the bathroom and dropped him in the tub.  He started running cold water all over his face to flush out Dudley's eyes, which were still glued shut and red.  Hubby was yelling for me to get the soap, get the towels, close the door, look on the internet to see what we're supposed to do, Hurry!  Hurry!  Hurry!

I found a site that said to rinse his eyes with saline solution real good, so I ran into the bathroom and grabbed a bottle and while Hubby held his eyes open, I poured it on.  Then back to the internet again to another site that said to use baking soda, Dawn soap and hydrogen peroxide on him to kill the stink.  We didn't want a bleached bulldog, so we skipped the hydrogen peroxide.  The site also advised Hubby should be wearing gloves while doing all this, but that advice came way too late since he was already elbow deep in skunk water!  Luckily the spray had only hit Dud's in the face, so surprisingly after his bath, he didn't hardly stink at all.  

Unfortunately we weren't so lucky with the house.  It stunk to high heaven!  We couldn't open the doors or windows because then the smell from the front yard would blow in.  We turned on all the ceiling fans and closed the doors to rooms where the smell hadn't reached yet and hoped for the best.  I googled some ways to get skunk smell out of your house and came across a blog from some poor woman who's dog had not only gotten sprayed by a skunk, but it had killed it and brought it into the house!  Poor thing.  She said one thing that worked for her was to pour apple cider vinegar into bowls and place them all around the house.  The vinegar would absorb the odor and then the next day you could pour it all down the drain.  So, I grabbed every bowl we had out of the cupboard and poured the vinegar in and we put them in every room of the house. 

The rest of the night was just awful.  Our nostrils burned with the smell and our eyes were watery and red.  We put Dudley in his pen in the laundry room and closed ourselves in our bedroom but the smell just seemed to be everywhere.  I kept thinking maybe we should just go outside and sleep in our truck or check into a hotel.  How would we ever be able to sleep?  We tried putting Vicks vapor rub up our nostrils, but even that didn't keep the skunk smell out.  I was longing for a gas mask or something, anything to help us breathe clean air!  It was a long and restless night.

The next morning, I was surprised the vinegar seemed to be working and the house didn't seem to reek as bad as it had before.  Encouraged, I let Dudley out of his pen and he plopped himself down at my feet and looked up at me with his beautiful little eyes as if questioning whether all that really happened or was it all just a bad dream?  I went around the house pouring out all the bowls of vinegar, scrubbed the tub, washed all Dudley's  bedding, opened all the windows and doors and started cleaning like a mad woman.  The only thing was, you'd walk outside for a minute and as soon as you came back in the house, the smell would hit you like a ton of bricks.  We were just getting used to it, it wasn't really going away!  Oh no!

I decided to go into town to try and find something we could use to get the stink out.  $95 later, I was back home with every odor-absorbing gel, spray, liquid, powder or candle I could find.  I sprinkled baking soda concoctions all over the carpets, sprayed down all the furniture, washed the bedding and all the laundry.  Two days later and the smell is still there, but it's getting fainter.  I guess we just have to wait for it to wear off and hope and pray no one comes over to visit because we certainly couldn't let them in!

Needless to say, none of us will ever forget Dudley's 3rd birthday.  And no, he didn't learn his lesson because the very next day when he heard the dryer make a squeaking noise, the first thing he did was fly through the kitchen and straight out the front door searching for that black and white stinker from the night before!  Good grief!

Springtime 2015

The first day of Spring and my favorite part of welcoming this season is the sight of all the daffodils on my drive to work!  We live out in the country and their are thousands of daffodils bobbing their little yellow heads all along the sides of the roads.  There are patches of them in fields, peeking out at the edge of woods, along fence rows and even in the ditches.

There are several old homesteads on my way into work that are long since gone, but the daffodils still remain.  You can see where daffodils line the foundation of an old historic home that burned down ages ago and just picture what it must have looked like when the house was still standing.  I like to think of the sweet woman that probably planted those bulbs, bending down in her calico dress with her white apron.  Her hair pinned up on top of her head, or hanging down her back in one long braid. How much pride she must have felt every Spring when her labor of love bloomed all around her beautiful home.

One site where a house once stood is all overgrown with tall grass and bushes, some trees scattered here and there in a big open field.  You'd never believe a house once graced the spot, except for the daffodils that are lined up perfectly straight along both sides of what once was the walkway to the front of the house.  They still pop up every year, even though the walkway and house are long gone.

Some times you can see a huge field of daffodils just scattered everywhere and then on across the road they start up again in a ditch and off into another field.  I assume the flood waters carried the bulbs across the road in one of our many storms.  It's so pretty.

It won't be long now and the redbud trees will be blooming along the sides of the roads, their bright pink and purple buds letting the other trees know it's time to start leafing up and making everything green again.  I love Spring!

I love you Prampa!!

This past Friday morning, the sun was shining so brightly and the sky was so blue.  The night before, we had such a terrible storm pass through with high winds, rain and thunder.  It was so refreshing to wake up to such a bright, beautiful day after such a dark and stormy night.

As I drove to work, I had Prampa on my mind.  He hadn't been well since his fall earlier in the month when he broke his leg and had to have emergency surgery.  How a 98 year-old man could even make it through a major surgery like that was a miracle in itself, but he did, and we were all hoping for a full recovery so that he would be able to make it through the physical therapy and one day walk again.  He goal had always been to make it to his 100th birthday!

But, Jesus had other plans for him because that beautiful sunshiny Friday morning, He called my sweet Prampa home to Heaven.  Now he's with the angels, and with precious Grandma, who he has been missing for many years now.  I know he's smiling in Heaven and telling every angel who will listen his many stories of a long life spent on earth.

Now it's our turn to tell the stories again and again, to keep our memories of Prampa alive in our hearts and to keep the smiles and laughter present in our lives as we remember him.  Mom and her siblings have spent the last few days making all the final arrangements, crying and laughing, sharing with those that are coming to pay their final respects.  Prampa was very loved, always happy and such a kind and warm-hearted soul.  He had love for everyone around him, never knew a stranger,  had a soft spot for animals and loved the outdoors.

In sharing these past few days, one of my Aunts reminded everyone about a funny story back when Grandma was still living.  Prampa had been out one evening and he got skunked.  He didn't want to come in the house smelling as bad as he did, so when he got home, he stood on the front porch and stripped off all his clothes.  He rang the doorbell for Grandma to come and unlock the front door, and when she did, she flipped on the porch light and there was Prampa standing naked as a jaybird for all the world to see!  What a sight!  I can just hear him now, scolding her about turning on the light and her scolding him right back about standing there in his birthday suit!

And Mom remembered another story about a trick Prampa played on Grandma once when they still had the hen house in the back yard.  One day Prampa had been visiting someone else's farm and he found a great big goose egg.  He took it home and laid it in one of Grandma's hens' nest.  When Grandma went out to collect the eggs and saw that big old goose egg, you can imagine the commotion!  I can hear the laughter now.  He was always such a joker.

I'll never forget the story about him driving his old truck down the road and it stalling on the railroad tracks.  He wasn't supposed to be driving at all, didn't even have a license anymore, but that never stopped him.  He couldn't get it restarted, and a train came and ran right into it.  Luckily, Prampa had already walked on back home, but he sure scared everyone when they found out about the accident.  And just recently, he snuck out of the nursing home and wandered across the road to feed a dog he had seen through his window.  He had a piece of chicken hidden in his overalls pocket and he spied on one of the nurses when she punched in the security code to open the front doors to the nursing home.  When no one was looking, he punched in the code and let himself out and wandered down the road.  One of my Aunts just happened to be driving by when he was crossing the busy street to feed the dog.  She turned around and got him back to the home safe and sound, scolding him the whole way.  He was quite a character!

So many memories!  It's so sad to think of a world without him.  What a blessing it has been to have such a wonderful Grandfather.  I love you Prampa Johnston, forever and ever!

Why did the chicken cross the road?

This morning on my way to work, I had to swerve to miss a chicken as it darted out in front of me.  It came out of nowhere and seemed to be in quite the hurry to get to the other side of the road.  It would have been funny if it hadn't startled me so.  There's something comical about seeing a chicken run full speed.

All the way to work, I thought about all the critters I encounter on the road to and fro.  It's not uncommon for something to be running out in front of me.  On a regular basis, I see deer and turkey and bunny rabbits, an occasional chipmunk or squirrel.  Even raccoons in the evenings.

One morning, I came around a bend in the hollow and there was a cow, right in the middle of the road.  Yes, a cow!  She was just standing there without a care in the world about getting out of my way.  I had to wait until she moseyed on over so I could get by.  It's quite startling to see a cow that's nearly as big as your car, standing right in the middle of the road.

The same lady that owns the cows, also has llamas.  And yes, they escape the fence once in awhile too.  One morning there were two of them running up and down the hollow.  When it rains, you have to swerve for turtles and frogs.  One year, we had a terrible time with these little green frogs whenever it rained.  You couldn't get down our road without running them over.  Try as I might to dodge them, I just couldn't avoid smooshing a few as they went hop-hopping and boing-boinging across the road.  Luckily, frogs don't hold a very high place on my cute scale, so I didn't cry like I would have if it had been a fuzzy bunny I had run over.  It made for a very cringe-worthy ride for me though.

One night, Hubby and I were coming home from town and he was lecturing me about my driving skills.  You know how men are, they think they know everything when it comes to driving.  He was scolding me about how I'm always swerving and gasping when critters run into the road.  No critter is worth driving into a ditch for, or worth hitting another car, he said.  I sat there meekly, taking it all in.  "Yes, dear.  Okay, dear."

As we rounded the last curve toward our house, we came around and there was a Mama skunk and her three little babies waddling right down the middle of the road!  Guess what Hubby did?  He said a bad word and he SWERVED!  I gasped (not because of the bad word, but because I thought he was going to hit the skunks) and when we got safely by, I looked over at him with the hugest grin on my face.  "What was that you were saying about not swerving for critters?"

Neither of us stopped laughing for the rest of the night!

Funny for the Day

Hubby and I have been living in the Land of Low Carb for about three and a half weeks now, learning a whole new way of eating in hopes that we can get healthier and lose some weight.  We've been eating things we never knew we liked, experimenting with different veggies and fruits, eating lots of different meats and finding recipes for low-carb and no-carb desserts along the way.  It's been interesting and challenging, but we're getting by and we haven't killed each other yet.  We both miss our breads and sweets, but it's been surprisingly easy so far and we're seeing results.

Hubby loves him some Starbucks.  He has especially been addicted to the sickeningly sweet, high-calorie, mega-fat drinks that have tons of sugar, heavy cream, are caramel-laden, topped with whipped cream and more caramel drizzled on top.  How he drinks them, I don't know!  It's enough to send me to the moon and back twelve times.

The other day we were out bumping around in the jeep and we passed a Starbucks.  He said, "I sure wish we could have a coffee," and I said, "Well, we can!  You just need to learn a new way of ordering."  I know he didn't trust me at first, but we pulled into the drive-thru and I told him what to order.  He can pretty much have close to what he's used to having "taste-wise" but without all the sugar and fat.  We ordered a skinny vanilla latte on ice and when he took his first sip, a look of disbelief crossed his face and he continued to sip away.  See, I told you you'd like it!

Well, this past week he's been working a construction job in Nashville with a buddy of his, and yesterday he got a hankerin' for another Starbucks.  He pulled in and ordered two of the skinny vanilla lattes, frozen.  One for him, and one for his buddy.  When they got up to the window, the server took one look at the two of them and her jaw dropped.   She said, "Whoa!  Are these for you?  You don't look like the type that would be drinking these!"  Hubby's buddy said, "What the heck did you order?" and the lady said, "These are froo-froo drinks!" and again, the buddy said louder, "What the HECK did you order?!  Change mine to a plain, black coffee!  I ain't drinkin' no froo-froo drink!"

As Hubby took the drinks from the server and handed over his cash, he grinned and told her, "I'm drinkin' it and I don't mind throwin' down with anyone who wants to take me on!"  (Okay, Mr. Tough Guy!)  He shoved the second drink in his buddy's hands and said, "You're drinking it, I just paid $7 for these things!" and off they drove.  As they were pulling out of the parking lot, Hubby said to his buddy, "Never again, never again!"  I think he was beyond mortified.

I laughed and laughed when he told me this story later that night when he got home.  I would have loved to see the look on that ladies' face when she saw these two brawny manly-men that had ordered these girlie drinks.  I was so proud of Hubby for sticking to the plan, even though it caused him some embarrassment.  He always finds a way to make me giggle every day!

The Missing Azalea Bush

Hubby and I have been working on the yard, getting things pretty and planting flowers.  He mows and runs the weedeater, and I'm in charge of planting flowers and pulling weeds in the beds.  All my roses are starting to bloom so pretty and the laurel bushes have pretty white flowers on them.  I've got pansies in flower boxes and pots that came up again from last year and the boxwoods are so big they are definitely going to need trimming this year.  The hostas and daylillies are popping up, with the little pink carnations and purple catmint that come up every year.  Everything is so green and lush.

As I pulled out of the driveway this morning, I scanned across the front flowerbeds admiring my pretty rosebushes when it struck me.  My beautiful pink azalea bush was gone!  I planted it about three years ago, in the flowerbed right in front of my laurels.  Hubby bought it for me on a trip to the hardware store and every year it doubled in size.  It always looked so pretty with it's bright pink blooms.  I stopped the car and looked again, thinking maybe I just wasn't seeing it because it wasn't blooming yet, but no, there was no bush at all.  Just a big empty spot where it should have been.  What in the world?  Where could it have gone?

All the way to work I was worrying about where my azalea bush had gone.  Surely no one would have taken it!  If it had died, there would be something left there for me to see, wouldn't there?  And who would steal an azalea bush, for heaven's sake?

Maybe a little bird family had a nest in it, and the Papa bird got relocated for his job at the worm factory and they had to move.  The poor little Mama bird couldn't bear to leave her beautiful home, so they found some way to uproot the bush and take it with them.  That could happen, right?

Or maybe the azalea bush was lonely there in front of those laurels, competing with the snobby rose bush that towered over it, always blooming so profusely.  Maybe the azalea bush was homesick, missing it's family and just uprooted itself and walked back home to where it came from.

Regardless of what happened, my azalea bush is gone and it's a mystery for sure.  I guess I'll be going to the nursery this weekend to pick out something else to take it's place.  I'll miss you sweet azalea bush!