Diane's Dress & A Meme

Time for an alluring view of me standing in front of the "tire flower bed", circa 1973. Can you see the flowers? They are probably petunias......Mom always planted those in the tire. Great shadowing on my face.......looks like I have a Hitler moustache.

Its especially heartwarming that my mom saw fit to include the tether ball pole in the photo. In truth, I couldn't wait to stop posing so I could run back there and throw the ball around the pole a few times. Mom probably had some difficulty aiming the Polaroid Land camera since she was simultaneously serving as a barricade against a herd of teenage boys who were crowding around, anxious to rush forward and ask the bespectacled bookworm for a date. Quite a glowing sight I was in that yellow dress, made possibly of dotted Swiss fabric, though I don't recall for sure. Yellow is simply wonderful on me......I wear it all the time......cough, cough. In truth, its a ghastly match for my complexion, and I avoid it, along with all pastels. Fortunately, this very fashionable 1970's dress did not belong to me. On an idiotic whim, my best friend and I had decided to wear the bridesmaids' dresses from her sister's wedding to church the morning this photo was taken. Thanks for the memory, Mom.

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Gramma Ann---of more than one great blog, Ann's Quotes & Things,

My Reading Corner, and others---tagged me recently for a fairly uncomplicated meme. The requirement is simply to list 6 facts about yourself. Here goes.....sorry I couldn't keep it simple:

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1. From my baby book (Yes, I have a fairly-well completed one thanks to the fact that I was a first child......thanks, Mom.): a. My first sentence was "See the birdie", spoken on June 25, 1959, when I was one year and 5 days old.......b. At 2 years of age, some of the books Mom would read to me were Farm ABC, Outside Cat, The Pie Wagon, and Pitidoe the Colormaker. Through online used book stores, I have acquired the latter two books. I look through them and try to assess my feelings.......some of the pictures do seem vaguely familiar.

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2. When I was 2 years old, a big dog knocked me down and bit me in the forehead. Thankfully, I have no memory of this event. Stitches were required and I think the poor dog ended up sacrificing his head for a rabies test. There is a scar high on my forehead, which is noticeable only in the event that my hair is worn severely pulled back, which never happens. When I was in the throes of a depressive delusional paranoia several years ago, I showed the scar to a nurse and told her that my parents had lied to me about the dog bite and actually the scar was from an incision made to insert a radio transmitter (I thought everyone could read my thoughts.......its a common delusion.......that other people can read your mind, and one which I've subsequently brought to life by becoming a blogger and spewing my mind to the world. A few other people truly are "reading my mind". I'm convinced that delusions do contain within them a tiny grain of some kind of truth.) I'm guessing this delusion might never have occurred had I actually retained a memory of the dog bite incident.

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3. When I was 4 years old, I was with my grandparents and a cousin and we were throwing bread crumbs to ducks swimming in a pond at a cemetery near Waterloo. Suddenly, it seemed I forgot to let go of a bread crumb and into the pond I plopped. I recall sinking in the filthy water and then my grandfather's strong arm reached in and pulled me out. Several years later my cousin confessed to me that he had pushed me.......which could be possible as the cousin was (and is) somewhat of a trouble-maker.

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4. One day in third grade, while sitting with two other girls in the school lunchroom waiting to be dismissed, I---for reasons unknown---picked up a stray pea from the table and absent-mindedly tossed it towards one of the upper-grade teachers, never thinking it would be felt through her heavy skirt and sweater. For pity's sake, it was one little, cooked pea. Well.....it hit her in the derriere and, by golly, it must have felt like a bullet to her, for she whirled right around and came stalking over to where we three girls were sitting. At first I was incredulous, and then terrified, for she was the most frightening teacher in the whole elementary school. All of us kids in the lower grades were scared to death of her. She barked out the question, asking who had thrown the pea. I don't really recall, but I must have admitted to being the pea-thrower. Plus, the girls on each side of me were probably staring wide-eyed in my direction. The offended teacher right away told my teacher and they must have called my mom, for when I got home that day Mom informed me that I would have to go and formally apologize to the peaed teacher. It seems an appointment was set up for me to do that a couple days later, during a recess. It went fine. I remember picking wildflowers from the ditch and putting them in a frozen orange juice concentrate can that I had covered in flowered contact paper.......to serve as a peace offering when I walked with great trepidition through the upper-grade hallway to the victim's classroom and apologized to her. To this day, my old friends will occasionally bring up the incident......"Hey, remember that time you chucked the pea at Mrs. M___?" I wish I could say that I WAS truly sorry for what I had done, but she was a really mean teacher and maybe in a way she deserved the peaing.

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5. Every year, our junior high held a spelling contest---bee, or whatever---it was a big deal, we sat up on the stage and spelled the words out loud in front of an audience. In my seventh-grade year, I won the trophy! I was ecstatic; spelling was my favorite subject because it was so darn easy. I never had to study, other than looking at a list of words once and that was enough. I attribute my spelling abilities to constant book-reading. The winning word was "acetylsalicylic".......not a word we had studied, so I had to wing it to win.

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6. My parents didn't wish to shell out money for a band instrument, but I did take piano lessons and could read music and thus was asked to join the percussion section of the school band, way back there behind the rows of woodwinds and brass horns. I played snare drum, bass drum, tenor drum, cymbals, glockenspiel, triangle, wood blocks, maracas, tympani......you name it. Percussion seemed to be where the troubled and the troublemakers ended up, though, of course, I didn't fit either category. Ahem. My favorite thing to do was pound out a song's beat on the bass drum. Maybe it gave me a feeling of being in charge, though in truth I was simply submitting to the timing as directed by the band conductor. A bass drummer, in a backgroundish way, controls the whole band by maintaining the correct rhythm. If the bass drum gets out of rhythm, the whole band follows suit. It was a pretty cool feeling......one that I miss from time to time, actually. Perhaps I possess a deeply-buried desire for power and authority. Beware.

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7. **EXTRA INFO**.......I've lived on a farm all my life. Not the same farm, but on a farm. The farm I live on now is about 6 miles from the farm I grew up on. I can read your mind......you're thinking "Wowser......whoop-de-doo......big deal."

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There, I've told you far more than you wanted to know about me. I would imagine this Six Things Meme has been around the blog block many times, but if you're a blogger and you've never done this particular meme, then consider yourself tagged.....YOU'RE IT! Get busy writing about yourself.

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Holly Hobbie

This is a pathetic sign that I have a serious case of winteritis........I actually took a photo of this old embroidered Holly Hobbie picture which hangs forlornly in a murky hallway in my house. It hangs in the dark these days, because for too many years it hung in a sunny spot and became faded.

One winter during high school, I worked determinedly on this embroidery project, even figuring out how to make French knots, which seemed rather complicated to me at the time.

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Holly Hobbie designs were popular back then, in the 70's........showing up on decorative dishes, on wall plaques, in prints on fabrics and towels, and as dolls. I recall sewing several silly smock tops to wear to school which featured Holly Hobbie prints. Back in those years, I sewed my head off, and its difficult for me now to comprehend that fact, as sewing is not something I do anymore, except for occasional mending.

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I may go insane soon.......the cold and ice seems to be pressing my mood ever downward. I miss walking outdoors in WARM sunshine. We never go anywhere except for basketball games and church, both occasions of sitting woodenly and staring forward. My husband is a wonderful, handsome fellow, but a complete work-a-holic. My house is overflowing with 30 years' accumulation of stuff; at times I feel ready to watch it all burn. Oh, I know......don't tempt fate. If I really am bi-polar, then its down the slippery slope I go for awhile.......BUT, then again, here comes blogging to the rescue........it gives me a foothold to use to climb upwards again.

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I wish I were as articulate as Ruth in this recent insightful post on her blog, Ruth's Visions & Revisions. I can identify with much of what she says in that post. How her mother confided in her too much......yes, my mother did that with me when I was a kid. She unloaded her cares on me---her oldest child---concerning her distress over my alcoholic father, who blamed all his problems on other people, her especially. (Yeah.....an alcoholic Baptist......that's a good one!) And, my mom, being her co-dependent self, enabled him in his crappy behavior which kept our family in turmoil. Oh, but don't you dare ever say anything to anyone. No, sirree......you put on a false front and act happy, by golly. Years later, lo and behold, he blamed everything on me. Haha, big joke.

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When you're growing up in a certain situation, you don't know that it might be abnormal......because its just normal to you at the time. When you're a kid, your world is so narrow, and you look up to your parents as role models. You observe how your parents behave.....you take it all in for years and years, and it has its effect on you, and you deal with that the rest of your life, and hardly anyone understands.

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OK......big whoop......that's my exciting post for today. Don't worry, I'm fine, really......really I am. There's so much to be thankful for; I should be ashamed of myself for the above thoughts. Forgive me, for I know there are multitudes of people out there in situations far worse than mine. Please, hurry on to another more cheerful blog from the list on the sidebar. -->-->-->-->

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Which leads me to say.......please don't ever feel obligated to read my blog, or leave a comment. I'm happy to have readers, of course, but it doesn't adversely affect my outlook if no one reads or comments. So, don't feel obligated.......I would never want anyone to feel that way. For me, getting a post written and published is an upper.......giving me wings for a while.

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Have a good day! Think of and pray for the sick and the grieving, including Coleman Larson's family.

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Anti-Holiday Rant

Here's an image of my mind, my house, my life at Christmastime........a chaotic mix, like these shadow patterns. Over the whole scene is the smile of sunshine......that should be an encouraging consolation.

"These boots are made for".......walking in snow and casting shadows.......yesterday, anyway. See tomorrow's post for LOTS of snow in photos!
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OK........now to the real reason for this post, which has been pushing and pummeling to become an anti-holiday rant. I can't fight it any longer.
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I want to like Christmas......truly I do, but the season always ends up taking me too far out of my normal routine/comfort zone. Here's the deal......my normal routine is all I can sort of successfully handle. When the days turn short and cold in late November, I am ready to hole up and rest for awhile, but is that then allowed or expected. NO! All of sudden, its time for giddy holiday preparations.......decking the halls and all that, which completely goes against my grain.
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Last Friday, a moment I had been dreading arrived.......my college daughter came home for the holidays. Its not that I wasn't happy to see her, its just that I knew I would now have to go digging for tree ornaments in the cramped closet where we keep the Christmas stuff. Sure enough, she walked into the house, took a look around---and, mind you, I do have few decorations up, and several small lighted trees sitting around---and exclaimed, "You don't have the Christmas tree up yet!" She meant a big, real one. I said, "I bought a four-foot artificial one at Target; you can put it up......and I will try to find the family ornaments."
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OK, this is going to sound awful, but we didn't decorate a tree the past two Christmases. In '06, I was still in a semi-mental-breakdown state after my big crack-up the spring before. My husband went to a tree farm and brought home a gigantic tree, which infuriated me (inside) . I didn't really want a tree and certainly not one that big, so all I did was put lights on it, and nobody else made a move to do add anything to it. One problem was I just couldn't bear the thought of digging through that Christmas closet. Last year ('07) we didn't do a tree because we were all too emotionally drained from Husband's father passing away shortly after Thanksgiving. Thus, when I started digging in the closet yesterday, I realized I hadn't unpacked most of the boxes in there since Christmas of 2005.......it seemed like a lifetime ago. And, wouldn't you know, the family ornaments were in a box buried clear down in the farthest, hard-to-reach corner of the closet.
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Christmas of '04 hadn't been very good, either......I had been badly shaken by recent deaths in the area, plus I was very involved with the Sunday School kids' Christmas Eve program that year. It doesn't sound like much, probably, but it happened to be the first year that the Sunday School teachers were asked to organize and run the program, where in previous years it had been done by our Lutheran dayschool teachers. The Christmas Eve program is a HUGE deal at our church......people have VERY high expectations for it. I was the Sunday School teacher for the 3 and 4-year-olds. Normally, their part was simply to sing "Away in a Manger".......which is enough for kids that age to do, in my opinion. Well, under the new program regime, the little kids were expected to do and learn more. And, the leader kept handing out new songs for me to teach to the kids, and it seemed I was supposed to be able to do that in a 20-minute span of time. Have you ever tried teaching a unfamiliar songs to 3 and 4-year-olds? Well, I somehow survived the program, but it had been very stressful. Add in that it was traditional for us to host the grandparents at our house for food and opening of gifts after church on Christmas Eve, which involved alot of preparations, too. It was all just too much.......too many expectations, plus I think I was starting on the road to the breakdown, back then already.
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Though I certainly appreciate the true meaning of Christmas---the birth of the Christ Child---there are times I descend into thinking that holidays were invented just to torture women. We're expected to do all sorts of extra stuff.......decorating, baking, shopping, etc. And, we're expected to be just happy as punch to be doing, doing, doing all that, and never get tired, either. Think about it.....down through the centuries......WHO "decks the halls" the majority of the time? Women. WHO makes wassail for "here we go a-wassailing"? Women. WHO makes the figgy pudding so we can wish everyone a Merry Christmas? Women. WHO doesn't rest while "God rests the merry gentlemen"? Women.
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My husband works very hard.....year-round.....but, I can tell you that his routine does not change during the holiday season. He does the same thing every day then that he always does......cow chores and more cow chores. He doesn't do any baking and cooking, or decorating, or shopping. He doesn't have to deal with the stress of an out-of-the-ordinary routine.
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Tomorrow night (weather permitting), I am hosting an annual get-together of several of my friends from childhood school days. Usually, one of the other gals hosts it, but I, in an unusually heady moment a few weeks ago, offered to host it if she didn't feel like it, while at the same time being quite sure that she would still choose to have that party at her house. Her house is very nice, and VERY NEAT. Her husband cleans! Can you imagine! Well, I suppose he should be willing to do that since his wife has very busy accounting career going on.
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Long story short......after some confusion, I did find out just the other day that I was indeed hosting the party. The last time she and I talked, I had vented a bit about the holiday hectic-ness that seems to creep in every year.......she replied with, "Why do you think I'm heading to Mexico for Christmas? I want to get away from all of that." Well.......I'm happy for her.......she and her husband have the time and the money to do such a thing. I would do it too, if such a thing were feasible.
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You'd be impressed with my group of old friends.......heck, I'M impressed with them! We've known each other since kindergarten.......played jump-rope every recess........traded Nancy Drew and Trixie Belden mystery books, competed for top grades, marched in band together, played basketball together, etc., etc. The friend I mentioned above went to college AFTER her kids were born, graduated top in her accounting class at UNI, and is the financial director at a community college. Another friend also went to school for accounting and is an assistant county auditor. Another is an attorney in Los Angeles. Another is a curator at a college museum. The first friend mentioned is married, the rest never married or are divorced. All of us grew up on farms in the same community, so we'll always have that common background, despite our diverse careers or noncareers.
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Now.......where was I going with this post? I can't remember. Mostly, its a whiny, complaining, ranty venting of my feelings about what Christmas has become for me at this stage of my life. My life has tipped upon some milestone fulcrum, and now I'm the one hosting the family holiday dinners.......instead of us going "over the river and through the woods to Grandmothers' house"........I am becoming the Grandma, even though I'm not a Grandma yet. I've never been much of a party person, so it ALL just goes against my grain. Inside I scream that I simply want some time to myself.......that I wish everyone would go away. And, in some ways, I think I've been saying that---inside---for as long as I can remember. Sometimes, I think I took a wrong turn somewhere, but I have no idea where or when. Maybe I was meant to be a guy.....so I wouldn't have to cook, bake, keep house, plan parties. Maybe I was meant to be a bear, so I could hibernate this time of year. Who knows.
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OK......thanks for being a listening ear. No one else will put up with my thoughts. Yesterday, I muttered to my husband, "I don't like Christmas anymore." He said, "Well, don't complain to me about it......its not my fault." Which is true, of course.
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Remember......come back tomorrow for a more upbeat post about that famous winter substance.......SNOW!
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Thankful For Emptiness

Among the myriad blessings in my life, one I'm very grateful for today is this empty corner in my house:

Most likely, all of you who read my blog keep your houses neat-as-a-pin, and its doubtful you'll be able to relate to what I'm writing about in this post. But.....sigh......I'll write it anyway.
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If you knew me as well as I know me.....which no one does, of course.......you would be cheering because my accomplishment of cleaning up a corner of the house means that my mood must be much better than normal for this time of the year. There have been other years when I felt simply paralyzed as the month of November wore on, with its diminishing hours of light each day, and the upcoming prospect of the holidays, when I'm supposed to be giddily cheerful and happy about everything. What a drag on my family I was at those times. Moms are supposed to be enthusiastic about Christmas decorating and shopping and baking, don't cha know. (Want to imitate a northern Iowa/Minnesota accent? Emphasize an "oh" sound in that phrase, "d-oh-n cha kn-oh-w". My daughter---who is a teacher/coach near Des Moines---gets teased about her "Minnie-soh-ta" accent all the time. And, in my opinion, her husband---who grew up in Des Moines---has a slightly southern accent---like Missouri people do. Funny how that all works. Sorry for the digression.)

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Do you ever find it a struggle to be what you are "supposed" to be?

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However, do you want to know what the salvation of my mood has been?.......On a practical, everyday level?........That's right, its BLOGGING. Oh, I could say, "God has freed me from my depression", and certainly, God, being all-knowing, all-powerful, and all that, deserves the credit for anything good that happens in our lives. But, I'm not comfortable talking about God very much. Oh, He's a given in my life, but I feel it can be a turn-off when people are always talking about Him. Talk is cheap---unless you're a professional speaker of some sort, of course. Actions are what counts. (That's not to say that my actions are always---or ever--- what they should be.) Of course, it could be that blogging is cheap, too......but, oh, what a depressing thought!
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Also, please don't come to the erroneous conclusion that the rest of my house looks like this corner---free of clutter---because it definitely does not! But, at least there is this corner of peace and emptiness to which I can flee when the rest of the house and all the holiday responsibilities seem overwhelming. I'm determined to keep this corner cleared out.......oh, we will put the Christmas tree here......but, after that, I want to keep the area free of STUFF. Then when little ones are here they can play in this corner, or we can put up a card table here for games or for extra seating at mealtimes. Or I can just stand there within the emptiness and gaze blissfully out at the trees in the yard, reveling in this small space which is FREE OF CLUTTER!
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Here's one of my favorite autumn decorations---a wreath of colored leaves made out of old barn wood. At least, I assume it is made from old boards from a farm building. I bought this unique wreath a few years ago at a local craft consignment shop. Its hanging next to the double doors in the photo above. (The porch beyond looks so white because its floor was covered with snow when I took the picture the other day.) I enjoy fall decorations and am sad when its time to take them down. Maybe I should just leave this wreath up! Hey......that's an idea......maybe I'll do that!

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Here's hoping there's a peaceful, uncluttered spot somewhere in your house.......or in your mind......where you can retreat, even just for brief moments, whenever the need arises during the holiday season! If you don't have an empty spot.......then MAKE ONE!! Push some stuff aside and make room for a little peace and emptiness in your house and life. Take back something that belongs to you in the first place!
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Happy Thanksgiving Eve!!
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Mom's Birthday

Last Friday, my two sisters and our dear old mom went out for lunch to celebrate Mom's 71st birthday. We met at Panera Bread in Cedar Rapids. We were there over two hours, contentedly conversing, laughing, and--of course!--eating. (I had chicken-rice soup in a bread bowl; unique, fun, yummy!)

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Can you tell which hand washes dishes with Palmolive? The 71-year-old hand......the 50-year-old......the 47-year-old......or the 42-year-old?? Madge would know, you know. (Am I dating myself?)

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Sis gave Mom one of those vibrating massagers........it was even equipped with lights!

Reminiscing dominated the conversation. Some of you may have read my earlier rants about being brought up with End-Times beliefs.......similarly, my sister who is close in age to me recalls those days with little fondness. She said that when she was a kid she was worried sick over whether or not she would have the strength to resist having "666"(the mark of the beast) tattooed on her forehead. She knew if she was a true Christian, she would have to resist or go to hell, but resisting would mean dying. So......yes, I'm not kidding that those kinds of teachings are difficult for kids to deal with. Thankfully, we are now able to laugh over these old fears.

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On the way to the birthday gathering, I stopped to pick up my youngest sister and saw that one of her jack-o-lanterns was "behind bars" for some post-Halloween misdemeanor.......perhaps for refusing to STOP the silly toothless grinning!

While we were together, Mom gave each of us girls a very special memento........she had found three Halloween greeting cards addressed to us girls from her dad, our grandfather, who died on Halloween Day of 1967. He must have written out the cards in the days preceding that. Here's what Grampy wrote to me in his own penciled handwriting: Honey bunch, I am getting so I don't write too good a hand. Your writing is better than mine. Words can hardly describe my deep love and affection for you. Someday I hope to see you long enough for a quick hug and kiss. Lots of Love and God Bless you all. Love, Grandpa. (I do recall that my parents did not take us kids to visit Grampy in those last few weeks of his illness......probably, that was mostly my father's decision......he had little time for my mother's family. My parents divorced, very non-amicably, fourteen years ago. Mom must have hidden the cards away in a safe place, thankfully.) Somewhere in my cluttered house, I also have a hand-written Christmas letter from Grampy to me, dating from the early 1960's.

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I was nine when Grampy died, and was old enough to have many fond memories of him. My sister who was six in 1967 remembers a few things. Our sister who was only 1-1/2 at that time has no recollection of him, of course. She was VERY moved to receive her Halloween card which included a personal note from Grampy to her!

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Lastly.......and leastly.......this was how the cornstalk bales appeared for awhile on Friday morning, with the etching of snow:

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Have a wonderful day!

I Was 'Vetted Long Ago

Where I've been my whole life, I'm not sure, but I had never heard of or noticed the word "vetted" until recently in newspaper articles and editorials about the presidential candidates. In the dictionary, one of the definitions of "vet" is to subject to careful examination; scrutinize; check; test. John McCain, Barack Obama, Joe Biden, and Sarah Palin have been undergoing "vetting" by journalists, other media folks, and anyone else possessing an investigative mindset.

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One time, long ago.........I was 'Vetted. Read on and you will find out when, where, and why that occurred.

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From grades seven through twelve, I participated in band at my school, which being a small school, allowed the junior high kids to be part of the high school marching band. In sixth grade, I was sucked into band because they needed a person to play the glockenspiel........and, they were looking for someone who had taken piano lessons and could read music. That landed me in the percussion section for the next seven years, playing snare drum, tenor drum, bass drum, tympani, cymbals, cowbell, wood blocks, maracas, triangle........and glockenspiel. Here's our photo from the 1976 yearbook:

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There are old Saturday Night Live spots showcasing "band cheerleaders"..........did you know a band can also have a queen? Sounds pretty silly, doesn't it. Yes, I kind of thought so, too. Back in my high school days, our school didn't participate in state marching band contest (or perhaps there wasn't such a thing, then), but we took part in the Eastern Iowa Bandmasters Festival in Cedar Rapids each year........I'm thinking it was in the spring, but I could be wrong. A host of high school bands (all better than our little ragtag band) would compete by marching and playing tunes through the streets of downtown Cedar Rapids, each band led by its "queen", who was in competition for a crown to be given away later in the afternoon.

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Ok.......I had been Prom Princess in my junior year and Homecoming Queen in the fall of my senior year.......that was enough royalness. The experiences were enjoyable, but not something I'd particularly wished for........not consciously, anyway. I didn't want to be our band's queen for the Cedar Rapids festival, either, but had a feeling it would be so. As the time for the band to vote came near, I decided to speak privately with my band instructor about this issue. I recall the day very well, even what I was wearing, because the whole thing made me very nervous. During a study hall, I went to the band room to talk to him. I asked him to please let one of the other senior girl band members be the queen, even if I was the top vote-getter. Well........he practically got mad at me........saying, "No, absolutely not, I will not do such a thing!" Stupid me.......evidently, I was blind to the fact that I was asking him to lie and commit fraud.

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Subsequently, yes, I was voted the "band queen" and experienced the one and only 'Vetting of my life! I was conveyed in a CorVETTe!! And, a nice blue one, too.......my favorite color, and my chauffeur was a handsome stranger! We're probably on First Avenue in this photo........last spring, the floodwaters would have been up to the top of the first floor windows of this Cedar Rapids building!

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Following the parade, the band members were free to wander around downtown Cedar Rapids until mid-afternoon when the queen crowning ceremony would take place in a park. For five years, I had enjoyed exploring Cedar Rapids with my friends on the afternoon of the Festival day. This time, I wouldn't get to, for I had to dress up in a formal and spend the afternoon with my band instructor........at a banquet and the queen competition. As we were walking to the restaurant where the banquet was to be held, he said, "They sure picked a seedy place for the meal." I recall this so clearly because it was the first time in my life I'd ever heard someone use the word "seedy", and I wasn't sure exactly what it meant!

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Maybe I should tell you a little bit about our band instructor. He had been a last-minute hire right before my freshman year of high school. Our former, long-time band teacher had died suddenly of a heart attack right before school was to start. This new guy was hired, fresh out of the Coast Guard Band. I still recall our first marching band rehearsal with him out on the football field.......he acted so military-like, and we were all just rolling our eyes the whole time. He didn't get off to a good start.......he didn't establish authority, and he would get flustered and turn red, and then kids would laugh. Not good. He was gifted musically, but didn't really have much of a clue about dealing with students.

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At any rate, somehow he lasted through our four years of high school. He always dressed quite formal, in black pants and a white shirt, but one day in my senior year I walked into the band room and nearly fainted when I saw him in a plaid shirt! At band lessons----which I didn't care for at all----he acted so very ill at ease that it made me feel ill at ease and nervous during my drum and tympani lessons. He always acted overly self-conscious and unsure of himself. He had come from the East Coast.......Boston, possibly; one time his mother came to visit and attended one of our concerts. One look at her was very enlightening. Her appearance and demeanor was totally intimidating.......giving me a much clearer understanding of her son after that, and I could see possibly why he had come all the way out here to teach in a remote little school in Iowa........to get further away from her!! Every one of us.......that means you, too, and me.......is molded by our parents' or guardians' effect on us in our childhood years.

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Below is the group of band queen candidates, with the former year's winner sitting down in the front. I do not recall who won.........I do recall that it was not me, which was absolutely fine and no surprise at all!


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I think the band director stayed at our school one more year after my Class of '76 graduated. He moved on to another school in Iowa, but I never heard where. Sometimes, I think of him and truly hope that he found some happiness, because I don't think he was happy when he was with us. He was single, and I think, rather friendless and lonely. We were so mean to him when he was our study hall monitor........we girls would plan ahead of time to do something all together, like clean out our purses, or some other odd thing that wasn't really against the rules, but would annoy him. One time, we were having study hall in the library and we could hear him yelling at one of our classmates out in the hall.........she came back and sat down across the table from me. I simply whispered to her, behind my hand, "What happened?", and Mr. Band Director immediately roared at ME to go sit in the corner!! Like I was a little grade-schooler! Well, OK, fine.......I did; sat there in the corner of the fiction bookshelves, the guys at the closest table glancing over and snickering for the rest of the hour. It still makes me laugh to think that the only time I was ordered to "sit in the corner" was when I was a senior in high school!!

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Anyhow, as I said........I hope the band director eventually found happiness in life. I enjoyed band very much and have many fond and goofy memories of the goings-on in the percussion "zoo" section! We were in our own world back there behind the rest of the band, and could do pretty much as we pleased......(get creative, you know)....... as long as we kept the proper rhythm and beat!!

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P.S. - One last thing........at the end of the parade, my driver turned around and asked me to stay in the Corvette so we could drive off into the sunset together and get married! That I said "No" may have been the biggest mistake of my life!! (And.......surely you're sharp enough to know that this is a B.S.P.S.!)

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B.S.P.S.#2 (heehee): The real reason I'm posting photos and info of myself as queen-of-something-long-ago is that I'm hoping someone will ask me to run for office!

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Sarah Palin was "Miss Wasilla", in Alaska, years ago! That fact may be a factor, tiny perhaps, but a factor nonetheless, in propelling her to where she is now. Did you know Sarah Palin was also a stand-out high school basketball player, leading her Wasilla team to the state championship? She was known as "Sarah Barracuda", due to her aggressive ball-playing (from Ten Facts About Sarah Palin). An interesting thing I noticed as a mother of two girls who played basketball was: in the initial years of playing----in grade school and junior high-----girls must be constantly exhorted to "be aggressive"! Even I, the nonagressive mom, would sit there in the bleachers and get caught up in yelling at my daughters and their teammates, "C'mon......BE MORE AGGRESSIVE!" (I don't recall hollering those words at my sons' teams.) Competing aggressively doesn't seem to come instinctively to most girls. Liberals and conservatives alike should look at Sarah Palin and see how risky it is to urge girls to be strong and aggressively competitive (wink, wink!)! I wasn't urged that way.......and, see how I turned out.......a career-less, duddy homebody who is so rebellious after 30 years of nonstop farmwiffery and cooking and taking care of husband/kids/house/yard, that I've turned in desperation to amateur photography and blogging. Mothers, be careful how you direct your daughters!!

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[I chose to blog some random facts about Sarah Palin.......which doesn't necessarily mean I'm supportive of her as a vice-presidential candidate. I don't know enough about her, yet. Hm-m........I wonder if Bristol Palin ever played basketball, or if her mother exhorted her to be aggressive? Or, if Governor Sarah Palin would have even had the time to pay much attention to her daughter's activities or the boyfriend! Perhaps Bristol's dad, Todd Palin, "The First Dude" of Alaska, oversees those family issues. (By the way, Todd Palin is 1/8 Yupik Eskimo........making him "of Yupik descent", but not enough to call him an Eskimo.)

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Yours Truly is one mother who definitely discouraged her own daughters from getting involved in serious romances in high school, even to the point of telling a boy to "SCRAM.....GET LOST" once. I was more concerned about my daughter than about what that boy thought of me. Afterwards, my husband stared at me in disbelief and said, "I don't know how you were able to do that, but I'm sure glad you did!" For their own good, more than for religious reasons, I absolutely did not want my daughters ending up with a teen pregnancy or having sex as teenagers, for that matter. Call me old-fashioned if you want.......to me its just good common sense that high-schoolers should not be getting involved in sexual relationships, and I, as a parent, knew that I was responsible for doing all I could to get that message across to the teenagers living under my roof. Also, selfishly, I harbor NO desire to take care of babies and young children everyday, again.........I DID MY TIME WITH THAT ALREADY! Although, I do realize there are extraordinary circumstances that can arise in any family, and I would certainly do my part to help out with children if need be.]

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Junior Year Prom Dress

Easily influenced......those two words describe me......earlier this week Kacey at WineontheKeyboard blog posted a photo from a FEW years back of a prom dress she had made for herself, prompting me to do the same........amidst a flood of memories:

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How well I recall the circumstances surrounding the construction of this dress! "Last Minute" could be my middle name.........and, I had waited until such a time to work on putting this dress together the week before prom during the spring when I was a junior in high school. Let's see......that would have been in 1975. Pastel colors and frilly styles with puffy sleeves were in fashion! (And, yes, due to my penchant for being a clutter-keeper, the dress pattern is still in my possession, as evidenced by the first photo.)

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It seems we had a few days off from school.......it probably was Easter break, and I had planned to use those free days to sew my dress. Well, wouldn't you know, adverse weather came along-----it must have been an early spring ice storm-----causing our electricity to go out for several days! We didn't have a generator on our farm; we had no livestock left by then, so my dad didn't think we needed one, I guess. Well........the sewing machine, of course, certainly did need power in order to work, so I was up a creek without a paddle.

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But......where there's a will, there's a way........we asked one of my grandmas if we could move the sewing machine to her house in town so I could work on my dress there. That was OK with her, and the sewing machine in its cabinet was transported to the spare room in Grandma's house and I stayed there for the next few days, sewing like mad. At one point, my hurrying turned to carelessness and while trimming off threads at the end of a seam, I managed to snip a hole in the fabric. Oh, man, I was about sick about that! It was on the front side of the bodice, but fortunately near the arm area. I found some iron-on bonding stuff which would adhere to the inside of the rip to hold it together; it was still visible, but when the dress was worn, the damaged area was pretty much hidden by my arm and not noticeable to anyone else. (The proof of this----the dress itself----is in a box in the storeroom upstairs.)

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Being at Grandma's house for a few days was a treat, of course. (This was not the grandma who had been a country school teacher.) She was a very quiet person, never smiling much, but loved to cook, so I would have been a very well-fed seamstress for those few days! She made super-yummy chocolate chip cookies and tapioca pudding which she always served in pretty green glass pudding cups that had a clear pedestal base. I've seen sets like them at a collectible shop, and someday hope to buy a one if possible......just for the sake of memories of Grandma. (Years later, my aunt got rid of all of Grandma's dishes, for some reason, without offering them to any of us in the family!)

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Grandma had been born in northern Wisconsin, in 1901, to a farming family eking out a living in an area of poor farmland. They eventually moved to Waterloo, Iowa, but not before Grandma had survived a bout with polio at a young age. She would later relate that she saw angels filling her room when she was so very sick. The polio left her with one leg smaller and shorter for the rest of her life. She wore a special shoe and walked with an awkward limp. Maybe that's part of the reason she didn't smile much; the other being that Bell's Palsy caused one side of her face to droop when she was in her early 60's, and her smiles looked lop-sided after that.

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Grandma's house was neat as a pin, and she would hum a funny little tune while doing laundry. She wore a housedress and apron everyday; and enjoyed watching game shows and BOXING matches (of all things) on television. Grandma loved her coffee, too, and one time when there were rumors of an upcoming shortage, she bought many cans of her favorite coffee and squirrelled them away in her top kitchen cupboards! Grandma never drove a car, either, and often rode along with us to go shopping.

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Like I said, Grandma was pretty quiet, in the way she lived her life, and, literally, in her speaking. When she did say something, it came out rather quick and abrupt. Perhaps she had long ago learned to keep her thoughts and feelings to herself, and dedicate herself to cooking good meals and keeping an orderly house.

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It is just a blast digging into the old photos in my closet! I haven't looked at them in years, and when I gaze at myself in these scenes from long ago, I can hardly recall being even remotely acquainted with the person I was back then. Years and years of busy, exhausting motherhood and farmwifery carried me far from whoever that girl was. Would I even want to get reacquainted with her? I'm not sure........

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Hey, if any of you have old prom pictures or other high school photos lying around........why not post some for the blogworld to see!! You're among friends........we won't laugh at you........(yeah, right!!).

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Nests We Spring From

I appreciate the kind comments on the previous post! Thank you! In connection with that subject is this post:

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Here's what Miss Kitty's little family looks like right now.........sporting their newly-opened eyes!

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Here's the nest I sprang from:
It was the summer of 1975; we were making a swing through the West, taking in major sites and attractions: The Badlands, Mt. Rushmore, Devil's Tower...........and Yellowstone National Park in northwest Wyoming. This photo was taken at Mammoth Hot Springs in Yellowstone, near the north entrance to the park. I am standing behind the bratty Little Brother.

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Actually, the photo's setting is very fitting for our family. We sprang from a marriage that was like a volatile pot of stew, often rocked by the mixture of binge alcoholism, denial, and a co-dependent who was very able at enabling and glossing things over. When a marriage pot rocks like that, it sloshes over, affecting things in its vicinity.........such as the CHILDREN in the household.

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I don't intend to say much more on the subject.......except that: if there is one factor in my childhood which may be partially to blame for the traits I have, it is the FEAR that I often felt as a child. Don't get me wrong........my parents were not child abusers, but our household often knew FEAR. I was extremely aware of it, which probably established abnormal sensitivities in my psyche.

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'NUFF SAID!! Except for: I'm not looking for sympathy, but this might be part of the explanation of my weirdness. By the way, the parents did divorce, bitterly, many years later.

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Girlie Wisdom Forward

My sister just sent me this email forward:

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GIRLIE WISDOM!

1. A friend of mine confused her Valium with her birth control pills... she has 14 kids but doesn't really care.

2. One of life's mysteries is how a 2-pound box of chocolates can make a woman gain 5 lbs.

3. My mind not only wanders, it sometimes leaves completely.

4. The best way to forget your troubles is to wear tight shoes.

5. The nice part about living in a small town is that when you don't know what you are doing, someone else does.

6. The older you get, the tougher it is to lose weight because by then, your body and your fat are really good friends.

7. Just when I was getting used to yesterday, along came today.

8. Sometimes I think I understand everything, and then I regain consciousness.

9. I gave up jogging for my health when my thighs kept rubbing together and setting fire to my knicker's.

10. Amazing! You hang something in your closet for a while and it shrinks 2 sizes!

11. Skinny people irritate me! Especially when they say things like...'You know sometimes I forget to eat!' .....Now I've forgotten my address, my mother's maiden name and my keys, but I have never forgotten to eat. You have to be a special kind of stupid to forget to eat!

12. I read this article that said the typical symptoms of stress are eating too much, impulse buying, and driving too fast. Are they kidding? That's my idea of a perfect day!

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SEND THIS TO 5 BRIGHT WOMEN YOU KNOW AND MAKE THEIR DAY!!! LIVE SIMPLY.....LAUGH OFTEN....LOVE DEEPLY !!!

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The Stolen Bride

Yes, a True Confession coming right up.........I look really concerned about doing such a thing, don't I......probably because I have nothing exciting to confess, other than I'm the typical Lutheran garden-variety "poor, miserable sinner".

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First of all, a confession of stupidity........look at the photo and consider how idiotic I was back then in 1978: It was the middle of JULY.......there I was in a long-sleeved wedding dress, with a collar up to my 20-year-old double-chin and short neck. Whatever was I thinking?

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Actually, the scene in the photo is of when I threw my bouquet, out in front of the Baptist church; and a wimpish, paltry throw it was, landing just a few feet behind me. The girl who nabbed it, I believe, has never married!!

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Here's the who, what, when, where, and why of the theft of Jeannelle the Bride, a little over thirty years ago:

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A bit of background on "bride stealing", what I believe must be an old, old tradition, probably dating back to Cave Man days when Ogg would come to Ugg's cave with club and clobber Ugg over the head and drag his woman by her hair back to his own cave. He'd of had trouble getting a grasp on my fine, thin tresses, that's for sure!

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My Husband's people all came from northern Germany; perhaps bride-stealing was customary there, a tradition from the Dark Ages, when a nobleman would steal the poor peasant guy's bride and hold her for ransom; there was a ransom involved in my kidnapping, in fact. Or maybe a Viking gang from the next village would come to pillage and grab a bride for good measure.

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At any rate, I, the blushing bride of just a few hours, was innocently conversing with guests at our wedding dance, when suddenly I was picked up by the feet and the shoulders by several men and hauled outdoors and stuffed into the backseat of a waiting car. Not to worry.......the driver of the car was a good friend, and my sister was there on the passenger side. We drove to the next small town and went into a tavern. I, of course, was in my wedding dress, and had no shoes on; the bleary-eyed beer drinkers at the bar grinned and stared. We may have sat at a booth for awhile and had a drink, I don't really recall. It seems like maybe we shot some pool, too.

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Meanwhile, back at the dance hall in our absence, cash for a ransom was being collected in my shoe, being passed around the room. Much to my chagrin, my wedding dress had arrived way too short, so I had to wear completely flat ballerina slippers to the wedding. That conjures up a romantic image.......a silly, little, flat shoe being passed around.......an alluring high heel would have been better. But, it was only recently that I learned that cash during bride thefts was collected in a shoe; the cash had been given to us in a cigar box after the dance, so I had assumed that was used.

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My captors and I stayed at the tavern for maybe a half hour, then headed back to the town where the dance was going on. There weren't DJ's back then; we hired a very local band to provide music at our dance.......real, live music!! Another memory that stands out about the evening was when my nine-year-old, Baptist brother gaped at me with wide eyes, incredulous that I was holding a can of beer and actually sipping from it! Good grief; I was thirsty, for crying out loud! Alcohol was outwardly a no-no in the household I grew up in, you see. 'Nuff said. I've never been more than a very light drinker, but certainly am not into teetotaling, as my brother is to this day. Our wedding dance indeed was the clash of two cultures........the imbibing, dancing German Lutherans VS the teetotaling, anti-dancing, goody-two-shoes Baptists. They had to mix sooner or later!

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One more oddity........at the dance hall, I had kicked my shoes off onto the pile of other womens' shoes, and at the end of the dance, I could find only one of my shoes. Well, no matter.......I wasn't planning on wearing the dumb things again, anyway. About three weeks later, in the mail one day, I received a box with no return address on it, and inside, wrapped in newspapers, was my missing shoe! I have no idea who had it and then bothered to send it back. Maybe anonymous shoe-stealing is a wedding tradition I'm not aware of. Or was it about kicking a Goody-TWO-Shoes attitude?!

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Maybe, just maybe........a SOLE-mate had the shoe!!

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I'm wondering if bride-stealing still goes on anywhere? Or shoe-stealing? It didn't occur last weekend after my son's wedding. Is it a dying tradition? Too much of an invasion of the bride's privacy, perhaps. She has to be a good sport about the whole thing. Honestly, I didn't mind being stolen.......it was fun, and gave me a break from the crowd at the dance hall.

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Have a great day!!

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[If you were a STOLEN BRIDE, or if you ever STOLE A BRIDE........oh, do tell in a comment!]

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Pearl Anniversary

Today is the wedding anniversary of.........

No........no........NOT Mary Magdalene.....that I know of, anyway. It is the anniversary of Husband and I-----our PEARL wedding anniversary, to be exact! We'll see if someone will identify that one in the comments. (The painting posted here is from the Wikipedia article about Mary Magdalene.)

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And, you must be muttering under your breath, "What's that troublemaker Mary Magdalene doing on this post?" Well..........today, July 22, is her feast day on the traditional church calendar; certainly not something I was aware of back then on my wedding day, due to my Baptist upbringing which included complete ignorance of saints' feast days.

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In the summer of 2003, I happened to read The DaVinci Code........BEFORE the media picked up on the controversial aspect of its story. Because one of my favorite types of fiction is the historical mystery based in a foreign locale, this book looked intriguing to me; Mona Lisa's eyes on the cover drew me in. I did think it rather nervy of Dan Brown to write on the subject of a possible marriage between Jesus and Mary Magdalene, but an author is certainly free to write about whatever he chooses. Brown's speculating did somewhat upset the Life of Christ dioramas in my mind, however. The DaVinci Code dipped into obscure aspects of Roman and European history, too, and offered avenues for further exploration into subjects I'd barely heard of before.......the Cathars, the Inquisition, witch hunts, Constantine the Great, Rosslyn Church, etc. I subsequently read Dan Brown's other books, Angels & Demons, Deception Point, and Digital Fortress, finding each one very entertaining!

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After reading the DaVinci Code, I thought long and hard about Jesus and Mary Magdalene, leading me to ask, "Why is it such a problem to swallow the idea of a possible marriage between them?" Jesus was God incarnated as a human........a human, with a physical body. Like any human, he would have eaten food, burped, eliminated, sweated, coughed, sighed, sneezed, etc., etc., etc. What is our hang-up with the idea of Him possibly being married? Is it the thought of sinless Jesus engaging in the physical intimacies of marriage? Most likely, that's it. Is physical intimacy within marriage a sin? Last I knew......NO. Did the Church, for centuries, promote a less than positive view of sex, even within marriage? Yes, I would say so. That being the case, it wouldn't be too surprising to me if the Church had centuries ago quietly swept away any references to Jesus being married. People who study Jewish traditions claim there are hints in the Gospels of a possible marriage existing between Jesus and Mary Magdalene. How would any of us know, in this day and age; we're so far removed from ancient ways, and certainly, Jewish ways. At the very least, I think its highly probable Mary Magdalene loved Jesus-----as a human woman who falls in love with a human man------even if their relationship never progressed to consummation in marriage. Why on earth could this not be possible? And, beautiful to ponder?

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Last Sunday, during our church service, as we spoke the Apostles' Creed, I noticed we jumped from saying Christ was "born of the virgin Mary".........immediately to...... he "suffered under Pontius Pilate". We covered that 33-year span in less than one breath, and I think that's how we view Jesus' life on earth.......in a short series of dioramas of well-known events from His life. Let's get real.......He lived 33 years on earth........much, much more went on in His earthly life than what is relayed to us in the Gospel books of Matthew, Mark, Luke and John. I certainly don't know if there was a marriage between Jesus and Mary Magdalene, but likewise, I certainly don't know for sure that there wasn't one.

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Read this witty article to learn the origins of the celibate priest tradition in the Catholic Church. It didn't come from Jesus.

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Back to Mary Magdalene........her ancient connections to Provence, in southern France are fascinating. Here is a blog post with several links to Provencal Magdalene sites.

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Here....... a travel website from St. Maximin, Provence, France.

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And, here....... another blogpost showing photos of Mary Magdalene sights in Provence, France.

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Well, enough of Mary Magdalene. If it weren't for the chance fact that I was married on her feast day, she wouldn't interest me so much, probably. Sorry if any of this disrupts any deeply-ingrained beliefs. It shouldn't. We think we know so much and have everything all figured out, but there's much we're unaware of about SO many topics, especially concerning ancient history.

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You're probably just dying to know if I have any pearls of "wisdom" to share on my Pearl Anniversary! Hm-m......after that many years of residing within the Institution of Marriage.......here are a few thoughts that come to mind:

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1. Keep your spouse in your prayers.

2. Know that happiness does not come from another person (ie: your spouse).

3. Know that you can never change another person (your spouse)........what you CAN change is your reaction to that other person (your spouse).

4. Put ears to use more than mouth; listen more than you speak.

5. A wife will do well to realize the importance of the husband's vocation to him. Many years ago-----when I was still a good person and listened to Christian radio----- I heard a Focus on the Family broadcast in which the speaker was encouraging wives to realize that a man's self-image is wrapped up in his vocation, and the wife needs to step back and allow him latitude in that area.

6. Be undemanding.

7. Monitor the pulse of your husband's mood.......but, don't expect him to reciprocate. Tend your own mood yourself.

8. If all else fails........take a long walk or write a blog post!!!

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Have a great Mary Magdalene Day!!

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Mom-of-Groom Dress

The subject of today's post is a dress........so........any guys reading this might want to surf on to a more exciting place........right now.........go visit Iowa Grasslands or Rhymeswithplague, both great blogs, authored by guys. Scram......get lost........exit the scene!!

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Ok, ladies.........would you like to see the dress I'm planning to wear to my son's wedding in a few weeks? If not.......you'd better scram real quick, too, because here it is:

I can see immediately that the pallid green color does not photograph well........(sigh)........the style is to my liking, though. When my daughters and I were at Mall of America last month I hunted and snooped hither and yon in that humongous place, trying to find a dress for the wedding, with no success. The following week, I happened to be walking through Penneys in Waterloo, not even seriously shopping, and this dress caught my eye from the clearance rack. It was the only one like it, AND it was in my size! Hm-m.......I thought.........maybe its meant for me! Sure enough, it fit well, and I liked the short, buttoned jacket and the embroidery on the skirt. Normally, I stay away from pastel colors, gravitating to darks and jewel tones, which I feel match my skin tone better.......but.......(sigh).......the style of this dress was so right........and so was the price!! (The dress was 50% off, and with another coupon, the total came to $38!!)

Besides, isn't the mother-of-the-groom supposed to kind of blend into the woodwork at the wedding? Last summer, when my daughter got married, the groom's mother told me that the mother-of-the-groom's motto is: "SHUT UP AND WEAR BEIGE!" Which she did, actually.

The thing is.......in my son's upcoming wedding, the mother-of-the-bride is wearing beige!! Well, I figured I'd better not stand out conspicuously in a bright color, thus this sickly green will have to suffice. The style is nice, though......have I mentioned that......?

Guys......as in men......I told you to get out of here.......do it now for sure!!!

My fantasy would be to wear a dress that showed cleavage, because I've never done such a thing. Cleavage is all over the place these days, from junior high girls to brides to news anchorwomen. Why not me, too, I ask?

Back when I was in high school, those high-necked, frilly Gunne Sax dresses were in style, and that's what we wore to proms and such. Nobody showed cleavage, not even the "wild" girls. I made my prom dress when I was a junior.....yes, I actually sewed at one time......and yes, it had a high neck. And so did my wedding dress.......it had long sleeves, too.......in July......Ugh!! I don't know WHAT on earth I was thinking back then. Sheesh.

While at Mall of America......don't tell.......but, I did try on a couple dresses that revealed cleavage. Not anything drastic, but enough to be fun and feminine. Who would care on an old 50-year-old woman, anyhow?! (Sigh) Alas, I just cannot do it, though. My mother raised me right, I guess, and I'll give the proper impression in my modest, straight-laced dress.

We must always appear to be what we should be!

Have a great day!!

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Learning To Fly

Hey, to any bi-polar peeps out there.............go listen to "Learning To Fly" by Tom Petty. Its the third song on the Playlist at the bottom of this blog. I'm really slow at finding songs that speak to me........I suppose this one's been around for years and I never knew it.

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Have a great day! I'm looking ahead, steeling myself and pulling myself together ahead of time, to survive upcoming events. I don't expect many to understand. And, I know the best advice would be "take one day at a time".

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P.S. - This lyrics of this song seem to decribe two aspects of depression in my own life:

"Learning to fly", that is, learning to keep your mood up........"learning to fly around the clouds". However, there also is the problem of being able to land safely......."coming down is the hardest thing". After your mood is high for awhile, which sometimes it needs to be, then it must come down again, and it can go down too far if you're not careful. BALANCE is what its all about.......and the correct amount of acceleration, braking, coasting......oh, my goodness, now it sounds more like bicycling!! And, you don't need wings for that!

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Sorry to be sort of thinking out loud here on the blog.......the imagery that this song evokes is helpful to me, believe it or not.

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I have no idea if this is what the writer of the song had in mind, but its what I hear in it.

Tagged By Caution Flag

A member of a flag family, "caution", of The Human Race 600 blog has tagged me. Years ago, being involved in games of "tag" at recess was practically an everyday occurrence. At least in that version, you could see when the "it" person was coming your way!

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Anyhow, go visit caution's blog at the above link........she has a gift for very humorous writing!! And, I think her idea of a family of racing flags is clever! Someday, I may be able to forgive her for flagging......er, tagging me.......!

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What was I doing ten years ago?

----Coming to terms with turning 40 and feeling very old (older than I do now, actually)

----Juggling activities of a senior in high school, a freshman in high school, a fourth-grader, and a first-grader

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Five snacks I enjoy:

----Chocolate

----Popcorn

----Chocolate
----Popcorn

----Chocolate

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Five things on my to-do list today:

----Drink coffee

----Feed calves

----Go to a funeral visitation

----Drop off recycling items

----Put addresses on wedding dance cards

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Things I'd want if I were a billionaire:

----Faith

----Family

----Friends

----Good health

----Thoughts

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Five jobs I've had:

----Detassler

----Babysitter

----Janitor

----Licensed Practical Nurse

----School Lunch Server

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Five of my bad habits:

----Sleeping too long

----Putting off doing the dishes

----Not caring about clutter

----Acquiring too many books

----Daydreaming

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Places I've lived:

Three farms in Iowa, all within 7 miles of each other

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Five random things:

----I once threw a pea at a teacher and got in a podful of trouble.

----My singing voice ranges from low alto to high soprano, although too much soprano makes me dizzy.

----Never have I been in an airplane.

----I was a Homecoming queen.

----At age four, my best friend was the pastor's daughter, and one day she and I mooned a truck that was driving past our farm. (I don't recall whose idea it was.)

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Ok, I'm going to tag.........YOU!!! If you're unlucky enough to be reading this post and have a blog of your own........you are tagged!! Gotcha.......yeah, right.......like you will actually do it (but, let me know if you do).

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Iowa Mountain Range

Occasionally, when the conditions are just right, we see a mountain range here in Iowa! This evening brought such a sight, on the northern horizon:

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When I was six years old, I went on a trip to Colorado with my family. Oh, how I enjoyed gazing at the Rocky Mountain peaks! When we left there, I was turned around in the back seat, watching through the car's rear window as the mountains disappeared from sight, tears running down my face. After that, whenever I'd see clouds resembling mountains, I would imagine really, really hard that they were truly real!!