Once Upon a Time...

there was a very different world...

One where the sun shined, the skies were brillant blue, and we had not a care in the world.

Then our world fell apart...

Our spirits seemed reduced to rubble...

But America is more than a place.  More than a name.

It is a home.

A home to the Free and the Brave...

We shall always overcome.

We shall always stand united.

Since we are America, we will always remember.

199 Bottles of Beer or just 199 Days Ago...

Apparently if it's been 199 days since someone last blogged, they lose their ability to come up with titles.  Or topics.  Or even scant ideas of what to blog about.
I hope this phenomenon does not last long...now that I actually miss blogging and have a wee bit of time in my life to actually participate in it again.
Of course I haven't lost my ultra-sharp tongue, a.k.a. opinions, when it comes to politics, nor has my love of country and appreciation of our service men and women wanned.  And I have plenty o'stories about The Sweet Spawn, Sledge, the Brain Dead Pug and our newest member Scooter Booter, but I just can't quite decide where to start.   Should the first post back inform you that Big Shooter is a Ranch Hand?  Both of the Sweet Spawn are taller than me and spent a MONTH in Idaho this summer?  Or that I had to straddle a gear shift positioned precariously close to my woohaw for 188 miles with a tow truck driver named Stinky Clifford shifting often?
I can't decide, so for tonight I think I'll just say, "I've missed you BloggyLand!  I'm looking forward to reconnecting with you!"

Sex Talk

Last Christmas Eve (2008) I decided I wasn't waiting any longer for Big Shooter to get over...well, whatever he needed to get over to have the Sex Talk with the Boy Child so I could have the same talk with the Girl Child. 
So I decided to do it myself.  Both of them.  At the same time.

Let's just say I now have the best advice in the world to hand out to parents all over the world trying to save themselves from having to do the Sex Talk more than once. 

Do more than one.  Do as many as children you have.  Do practice sessions.  Do extras.
Just don't do them AT THE SAME TIME!  Ever.

I'm not going to get into the whole conversation and questions here.  Just know that when some certain information finally sank in,  Boy Child sputtered and choked, "I have to do what to my wife??"...in front of his sister.  And later, "Do I have to?  Will I get a divorce if I don't want to?" 

And Girl Child?  Poor Girl Child.  She couldn't say anything for days other than, "Mommy, does it really, really, really hurt when the baby comes out?  Or just really hurt?"  I felt awful for her.  I'd crushed her little Mommyhood Bubble.  The girl was meant to me a Momma.  Aside from all the tom-boy, dirt, animal-loving and  target shooting...she just wants to be a fantastic Momma.  She talks about it all the time.   She practices.  She plans it.  She dreams about it.  Ooooh the trauma of learning the truth!

Now, mind you, I made it all wonderful, ooey-gooey and lovey-dovey.  I really did.  In fact, I've shared how I approached it with many mommas and daddies who have shared it in the same fashion.

That isn't the problem.

It's the natural curiosity since it all start soaked in + the unabashed openness the Shooter Household is known for that makes, at times, even my toes curl with the questions these precious little maturing Crumb Snatchers now ask.

No matter when or where we are (much, much, MUCH to Big Shooter's chagrin), if they ask a question about sex answer as honestly as I possibly can.  After a year of this it's not a big deal any more and I love the fact they trust us enough to ask all the questions that just seem to pop in their heads from out of left field. 
I am also relieved to announce, after a year, Big Shooter has chilled out and can now calmly field a tough sexual question instead of directing all traffic my way.

This all brings me to today's conversation while driving to a movie.

We were parked at a corner with a gentelmen's club on Boy Child's side of the car.  Girl Child said, "Ick.  Did anyone read that banner?  It said, 'Coldest Beer and Hottest Girls in Town'.  Now who in this car would want that???"  Big Shooter tightened my hand bc we've been wondering when we'd have to address the strip club issue since we live on the side of Plainsville these establishments are seen more often.  Before we could say anything, Girl Child reported from the backseat, "Ummm guys...you should know...your son just raised his hand.  Apparently, he wants cold beer and hot girls."
Now my hand held a death grip on Big Shooter's since he was trying to suppress a grin.  (Have I ever shared the one testicle story about Boy Child?  If not, just know Big Shooter gets a big kick and sigh of relief whenever our boy shows any natural interest in girls... Then remind me after the Blessed Event - Olympics - is finished and I'll tell you how we have a Leftie - as in, he has only one left.)

 After our cautious explanation, they both came to their own conclusions.
These were that Girl Child didn't want to become a stripper. (sigh of relief)
And Boy Child had apparently changed his mind about wanting cold beer and hot girls once he found out they were naked.  (sigh of relief from me...a "go figure" shrug from his father). 
I guess we did our religious, right-wing-nut-job, conservative, redneck jobs well.

Although, when they fully understood what actually took place, they naturally went to the sex subject.  They both asked questions about the actions and attitudes of a strip joint leading to sex, the desire for sex and sexual temptaions...Sex, sex, SEX!  (Is this all these spawn think about now??)

Before we had time to gather our thoughts on all the questions and decide where to start, Girl Child very firmly declared, "Well, I've decided if I'm ever tempted...I'm just gonna slap a sticker on my flower that says OUT. OF. ORDER!"

Big Shooter released the steering wheel, threw his hands in the air, and shouted...
"AMEN!!"

Yep.  We're making progress.

Love Note to My Big Shooter:  Yep, sex, sex, SEX... I wonder where they get that from?  Hmmmm.  Heh, heh.

Crumb Snatcher Speak & a Sashi Saying

• As we passed a hospital that specializes in brain trauma and mental issues, I said, "Mommy used to work at that mental hospital before you were born." Girl Child immediately corrected me with, "Didn't you mean to say lived there...not worked there?"

• While eating in a local yocal diner in small-town America (Pawhuska, OK) Girl Child observed just how busy it was during the lunch hour. "I mean, wow Mommy...people really do live in this town."

• "I am so not looking forward to my teenage years, " Boy Child solemnly announced yesterday. "Why? What's going to happen during your teenage years that will be so bad?" I asked. "You know, Mom. Braces and pimples...and braces and pimples are just life's way of saying it bites to be old. Like you Mom." Long pause. Then, "No offense Mom."

• I was trying to explain the concept of a wedding reception to Boy Child and his fellow 10 yo friend when Boy's light turned on and he proudly reported, "Oh yeah! I know what a wedding reception is Mommy! It's where I'll learn to spin on my back on the dance floor."

• My fave of the whole post was uttered so seriously and matter-of-factly by Saucy Sashi to one of her offspring in the van one day, I almost missed it..."If you don't stop chewing on your toenails, you won't get any ice cream."

Love Note to my Big Shooter: Wow! I realized as I was typing this post, either you haven't given me your typical blog fodder lately or I haven't been documenting them for posterity's sake (read blog's sake please). I am falling down on the job and haven't even had a good stiff drink to blame it on. I shall be Johnny-on-the-Spot from now on so watch what you say and do Buddy Boy!

I'm in a dither...

Lately havin' too many topics to choose from to share has NOT been a problem.

'Member that whole dried up period I just supposedly went through and am now over? Well, I am over it. Mostly. But, I still wonder what to write about each time I sit down.

Tonight, I don't have that dilemma.

You see a while back my most lovely friend Podcastin' Cyndi, whom by the way is known as Hyacinth to the rest of the bloggin' world (Yeah, uh huh. That's right. I am friends with Ree's best friend. Go ahead...touch me. Ssssss. It burned ya, didn't it? Or were you rollin' your eyes because you can't believe I stooped to pullin' out my Pioneer Woman card again?)...any way, my lovely, lovely friend Podcastin' Cyndi suggested I write a series about "the charming neighborhood" I live in. (Stop laughin' family and real life friends...you're risking offending Ree's real life friend.) And tonight would be a good story to introduce the hood to y'all.

Or

I also wanted to share a most delightful little tidbit complete with fabulous and interesting pics about that state (Idaho) I am always writing about (Idaho) and haven't lived there full-time in over 20 years...

OR

The fact I cannot, no matter how much I beg, plead, demand, cajole, whine, barter or any other method you can name...get Big Shooter to purchase a new lawn mower. This is the same guy who steamrolled over his betrothed and only precious-beyond-words daughter in the parking lot to get into the electronics store to purchase a new TV last year. Apparently, mowers just don't do it for him like plasma?

I can't imagine why?

So...

I am going to bed.

I'm not elaborating on my new, young, hip, alternative-living, abundantly tatted and pierced neighbors whom I just returned home from the hospital with a few minutes ago.

I'm not elaborating on the phenomenon very few people (me and Big Shooter included) have witnessed in real life...in Idaho.

And I am not elaborating on the testosterone levels in my house involving a lawn mowing devise.

G'night. Sleep tight. Don't let the bed bugs bite.

Love Note to my Big Shooter: Shush. Not a word. You had your Cancer Card. I am allowed one too. Mine just happens to be someone, instead of something!

...and then she hung up on me.

I ordered a little some thing for Big Shooter on April 6th.

It left Sacramento on April 9th to begin it's little journey to him.

It arrived in Minneapolis, Minnesota 4 days later.

It went straight past us on it's way to Dallas on April 17th.

After a brief stay in the Big D it traveled to Northeast OK. (I know this as a fact, cause I was following it the whole time on the cool little tracker thingy.)

After another brief stay (in Northeast OK...where we live), it left on it's way to West Virgina.

It arrived in West Virgina... 4 days later... April 26th.

I called FedEx.

The first person was kind and patient. But, clueless.

The second thoughtfully told me my package had arrived safely in West Virgina.

Duh. The problem is I don't live there...I politely explained.

She was unconcerned. And unapologetic.

I was...not. Unconcerned or too thoughtful.

Now I know it is not their fault. I know accidents happen. I know they are trying their best.

But, I really had had all I could take since my package had left Sacramento 15 days prior. Had traveled from the west coast to the north, past us even further south, and then left us...on it's way to the east coast...

So I told her so.

She didn't appreciate my attitude. She told me so.

I told her I didn't appreciate her nonchalant one either.

She didn't appreciate my tone of voice either. She told me so.

I asked her if she was familiar with the geography of the U.S.?

...that's when she hung up on me.

I have this fantastic new software called Bamboo (from a certain group of fabulous friends) where I can draw on pictures. Which I did to show the route of BS's package. It is fun and funny. But, like yesterday's ignorance problem, I cannot get Blogger to upload the saved pic. So you'll just have to imagine lines drawn from the west coast, to the north, to the south, to the east, back to the south and finally to me in OK on this map...

He got his little surprise on May 1.

I tried to call her.

Just to let her know it arrived safely.


Love Note to my Big Shooter: Arrrrgh! Now I know how you feel all the live long day! Dealing with rude, unhelpful people. No wonder you get headaches! Come home to Mamacita...I'll make you forget about the idiots of the world. Wink, wink. ...right after you slay the Blue Dragon so I can share the video...since I am a member of the idiots of the world!

Another Pot Stirrer...Seriously???

I know I promised yet another Pot Stirrer today.

This one starring the new resident at 1600 Pennsylvania Ave.

I'm gonna deliver it. For both sides sakes.

Just not in a snarky kinda way. For both sides sakes.

Cause here's why ~ We are tired. We are dirty. (well at least I still feel dirty...) We are pooped. (too pooped to think hard about anything like a witty blog) Yesterday we began our family's science project for the rest of the school year and through the summer. And I'll tell you more about it soon.

So since I cannot think of any way to tell this story in a humorous or a fair non-biased way, I am just going to give you the basic facts and you can draw your own conclusions. Non-Humorous. Speechless. Non-biased. Whatever.

The United States of America's greatest ally, Great Britain, sent their man, Prime Minister Brown across the pond for a first one on one meeting and to solidify our country's friendship with our new POTUS.

Mr. Brown (who is nearly blind, you'll know why I mention this a little later) thought long and hard about what he was going to bring as gifts to the New Leader of the Free World.

These were the results:

1. Mr. Brown had a custom desk set made....From the wood of a former slave ship that had been captured and turned over for His Majesty's fleet christened the President. Later the President was re-named the Gannett and was assigned a sister ship. The Resolute.
2. A framed certificate concerning the Resolute. The same ship whose wood was used to make the desk in the oval office. The one the new POTUS has made many admiring comments about.
3. A first edition set of a 7 volume biography on Winston Churchill. Who inherited a country on the brink of disaster. Who stood his ground. Who took the reigns and saved his beloved country. (Just an out of the blue guess, I'm thinking the similarities here were not by coincidence...?)

Wow! Those are some very thoughtful, researched, generous and well-planned gifts! Let me re-cap in different words:

The People of Great Britain, sent through their Prime Minister, a custom made desk set made from the wood of a former slave ship once called the President and sister to the Resolute. A beautifully framed certification of a much publicly admired historic piece of Oval Office furniture made from the Resolute. And a rare set of books for a self proclaimed prolific reader of great literature about a man who walked in the shoes now being worn by our President.

Now you ask, what did the wealthiest, most influential, most benevolent country in the world offer, through their POTUS, as a sign of their gratitude and appreciation?

Prepare yourself for the thoughtfulness...

Prepare yourself for the forethought...

Prepare yourself for the diplomacy...

Why a 25 DVD set of American Film Classics.

Yes. Let it sink in.

No. I am not joking.

Just typing it makes me sick to my stomach all over again.

Now, I know I waved the red flag the other day in the comment section. Taunted and was aiming for a fight. But that was before I engaged in the wallowing for which I had to apologize. I don't want to do that again. Wallow. Or in turn have to apologize for my behavior.

So here's the deal. I know what most of my readers are going to say. It'll be either "(gasp) Obama can do no wrong! He's the One. He's going to turn this country around!" or "(sigh) Obama is a moron. An amateur leading us into God knows what." And frankly, I don't want to hear either side of it today.

Both sides listen up.

That was a colossal public snub. No denying it. No getting around it. In fact Prime Minister Brown refused to answer the questions about the gift. He tried desperately to protect our integrity. (Ironically, it was the zealous Obama loving media thinking the gift was so incredibly fantastic and Obama being so humble and unassuming that fueled the fire to dig until it was uncovered. Then it was buried as fast and deep as they could get it.) The damage is done. And for those of you who are in denial, please go google some English papers or European. Read for yourself what they say about the shaft and their rapidly waning opinions and hope for a renewed America. We have a tendency to lean towards the egocentric here in the U.S. If it's not on the news, in the papers or shouted from the rooftops it's level of importance is not taken serious. We think it doesn't apply to us. And I can assure you of the importance of other countries' perception of America. Right now, a few things are going on but the Obamania hasn't worn down enough for many Americans to hear the international outrage.

I don't mean just from a silly gift-exchange people. I am talking about leader after leader from foreign countries having something less than pleasant to say about our new administration. It is frightening to me how fast the world view is changing. Is no one listening? Has no one been able to lift their head up yet from the Inauguration Drunkfest? The world is watching people. And our media is protecting us from their very disgruntled views. We were caught off guard before...do we have to do it again?

Obama Lovers, I certainly hope you can look past the defensiveness and see that he is human and along with all the changes many wanted he is also making mistakes of huge international magnitudes as well.

Obama Haters, zip your lips and get on your knees. The world is watching his actions. He needs our prayers not our pity and wrath right this minute. It's going to be a long road. 1,411 days long to be exact...

Love Note to my Big Shooter: I know you were looking forward to a typical Straight Shooter post where I shoot my mouth off half cocked and then attack, ridicule and belittle the few who dare speak up and disagree...but I'm still tired and grumpy so I thought I'd just give it to them straight. Not loaded with insidious or provoking comments. Well not too provoking. But, my love, rest assured in my foul mood if I do get red flags waving...I won't disappoint. But please don't leave me an anonymous one just to wind me up and watch me go. Please. I have a headache. Seriously.

New Orleans...worth the effort or a wasteland?

Yep. I know. I just ruffled some feathers by askin' that.
But please. I am so tired of hearing the whining that goes on within, around and about New Orleans.
I want to scream from the rooftops, "What about the other hundreds of thousands of families up and down the coast whose lives were devastated and completely destroyed by Katrina? Whom had to start from scratch. Whom you don't hear complainin', or in essence, beggin'. Whom chose to help each other, support each other and encourage each other while they're rebuilding. Instead of robbing and killing each other! And what about the families north of us who faced even worse flooding last fall? Do they require Marshall law or the National Guard for protection? Or just for help?"
What brought this little tirade on you ask? This article I read last week:


NEW ORLEANS (Associated Press) -- Three and a half years after Hurricane Katrina, the National Guard is pulling the last of its troops out of New Orleans this weekend, leaving behind a city still desperate and dangerous. Residents long distrustful of the city's police force are worried they will have to fend for themselves.
"I don't know if crime will go up after these guys leave. But I know a lot more of us will be packing our own pieces now to make sure we're protected," said Calvin Stewart, owner of a restaurant and store.
New Orleans Police Superintendent Warren Riley said his rebuilt police department is up to the job of protecting the city. "I think we're ready to handle things," he said.
The National Guardsmen were welcomed as liberators when they arrived in force in a big convoy more than four days after Katrina struck New Orleans in August 2005 and plunged the city into anarchy. The force was eventually 15,000 strong.
The last of the troops were removed in January 2006 as civil authority returned, but then, after a surge in bloodshed, 360 were sent back in beginning in mid-2006 to help police keep order. As of February, only about 100 troops were left in the city.
With Louisiana facing a $341 million budget deficit, state lawmakers were reluctant to keep the Guard in place any longer.
The Guard was used to patrol the less populated sections of the city where Katrina's floodwaters left most houses uninhabitable. That included the woeful Ninth Ward, where renovated houses are outnumbered by moldy, boarded-up wrecks and weed-choked vacant lots.


In their camouflage uniforms and Humvees, the troops were often a welcome sight.
"We don't have enough cops. It's not that they're bad, it's just that there's not enough of them. These guys are Johnny-on-the-spot when you need them," said 57-year-old Tom Hightower, who is still trying to get the mold out of his house. He added: "This is still a spooky place after dark."
"One of the biggest things we did was keep those places safe so people could rebuild," said Sgt. Wayne Lewis, a New Orleans native who has been patrolling the streets since January 2007. "People would put the things to rebuild in their houses and thieves would come along and take them right out again. We stopped a lot of that."
New Orleans had 210 murders in 2007, making it the murder capital of America, with the highest per-capita rate in the country. That number dropped to 179 in 2008.
Nevertheless, "crime continues to be this community's No. 1 concern. Even with the lower numbers it is still unacceptably high," said Rafael Goyeneche, executive director of the Metropolitan Crime Commission.



Now I know I certainly shouldn't believe everything I hear in the media or I'd think the majority of San Fransisco was gay, Seattle was filled with unreasonable, grungy, coffee-drinkin' tree huggers, Chicago...oops, make that Illinois, was being governed exclusively by crooked politicians, New York City was swarming with sex depraved single women, Florida's official state language was Spanish, or Texas & Oklahoma were filled with empty-headed, ill-informed, redneck cowboys. So possibly New Orleans isn't as bad as they make it seem after three and a half years...?

Three and a half years and they're still in complete disarray? C'mon people!


I am fed up with hand outs and helpin' others who don't help themselves.


People outside New Orleans who still need help? Oh yeah. I'm into those kinda hand outs. People helping people help people. Read it again. It makes sense. People helping people help people.

Click, click, click...

There were many Okies who wished they could click their heels and be transported elsewhere a few days ago...

This is the screen all Oklahomans dread to see on their TVs.

Cause this is what's coming.

This is what it does.

This is what falls from the sky.

And this is the destruction it delivers.

Those are metal trusses.


Imagine your neighborhood here the day before...

Even though the funnels did not come into Plainsville County, our hearts and prayers go out to our dear neighbors so close by. To witness the physical, emotional and financial devastation these storms cause is heart wrenching.

Please keep them in your thoughts this weekend.

Love Note to my Big Shooter: Thank you for always looking out for our well being, being so protective and concerned. Even when we're not in immediate danger. Or any danger for that matter. We love you.

Question of the day: What is the most poisonous fish? and What is an eagle's nest called?

A stonefish and an aerie

I lost my fair and balanced card.

I, shockingly, get accused of being far, faaaar right. A brain-less, evangelical follower. My most fave assumption/opinion, and of course completely unbiased, accusation is being a most fair and balanced...um, indoctrinated citizen?
I would totally agree with all those educated, unbiased and completely open minded opinions except for one thing ~ apparently my Fair and Balanced card expired.
I haven't turned on the fair and balanced in months.
I didn't ever notice before, during my crazy indoctrination days, how much make-up these people wear.
I didn't recognize any young, roving reporters.
But what did it for me is, "Where the heck is Allen?????"
Seriously.
Someone fill me in.
Please.
Is he gone? Is it really just the Sean Show w/out any checks and balances?
Did he defect to a less fair and balanced show?
Does anyone miss him besides me?
These are the questions that kept me up last night.

Mission Accomplished

We all remember former President Bush standing on the flight deck with the ginormous banner behind him - MISSION ACCOMPLISHED. He faced years of ridicule for that. My question to you is this: Did he accomplish his personal mission to protect us on his watch? Did we not enjoy safety in our own country on his watch?

I am with the half of the U.S. who believes we must make the unpleasant choice, apply force when needed, sacrifice one to save all, if you will. I am mortified to find out the first change President Obama has signed into effect is the closing of Gitmo (with no clear and solid plan as to where the detainees are going. Some are going to be sent back to their countries, some to other countries, some into the U.S. Of course this is all tentative to a 30 day committee investigation???) That decision joined with these idealistic notions : "We intend to win this fight. We're going to win it on our terms, in a manner that is consistent with our values and our ideals," Obama declared, turning U.S. policy abruptly on just his second full day in office.

??? Our terms? Is he joking? When was the last time you heard an extremist say, "Before I blow myself up to kill as many of you infidels as I can so I can go visit my 70 virgins, I'd really be interested in your terms of this fight." Riiiight. And with "our values and ideals"???? There are so many grown men cleaning their britches out tonight...I am with them.

Call it what you want. It is bleeding heart, idealistic, naivety b.s.

Be prepared people, we are going to be attacked again.

No wonder he received the high praise and high campaign donations from the Arab nations. They must be licking their chops today. Salivating at their luck.

I may be in the minority, but I am thankful for Bush's resolve, his steadfast commitment to keeping my children safe, not matter the risk, ridicule, or crucifixion he faced. I knew he was willing to do whatever it took. And, I for one, appreciated that.

A friend of mine sent this link to me yesterday. It is a place to thank President Bush for his actions and protection of us right after and around 9/11. Here's the letter I left him:

To My Steadfast Commander In Chief,

I offer my sincerest gratitude for becoming a nation's unyielding shield. For enduring the enemy's painful arrows and at times the world's wrath. You were an exemplary shepard to your flock. You offered shelter in stormy weather. Water to our souls when they were withered with sorrow and worry. Sustenance when there seemed to be no more available. You never shied from the wolves. Always sought out the one missing and in need of protection. Ever mindful of us. Of our vulnerabilities.The price you paid for my continued freedom is immeasurable. And I am eternally grateful.

Your fellow American,

Straight Shooter

President George W. Bush walks the South Lawn Tuesday, Jan. 20, 2009, prior to departing the White House for the final time.


Former President George W. Bush glances out over the U.S. Capitol as he helicopters a final time to Andrews Air Force Base Tuesday, Jan. 20, 2009, following the Inauguration of President Barack Obama.


A folder addressed to "44," left by Former President George W. Bush for President Barack Obama, sits on the Resolute desk in the Oval Office Tuesday, Jan. 20, 2009.

Love Note to my Big Shooter: I love the new House Rule: Cuddling on the sofa for 15 minutes...NO MATTER WHAT is on the have to get done list. Cause you are correct, (yeees. I said correct and you in the same breath) nothin' is more important than gettin' us done. Thank you for reminding me. (I would go gag about this time in a normal Love Note, but I am actually very touched by Big Shooter's new insight.) Love you Big Guy.

Inauguration Day 2009

I was going to post about the Big Day, Shooter Style. But several things are keeping me from it.
First being that Girl Child begged me not to. She has "had all I can take of change today Mommy. Please, not another word about why I should be happy and proud... please. I just... am not." Second, I have too many angles to hit so I can't settle on just one. In fact, I could not stop thinking of titles all day to cover all the points I wanted to talk (make fun of, smile at, point out, moan over, basically gnash my teeth) about. Here are a few I could remember:



19 minutes of "Stormy weather and icy conditions ahead..." (seriously. I thought it would be fantastic. Out of the park. It's a main reason the Crumbs had to stop lessons and watch. But, nothing jumped out. No "Ask not what your country...", "...nothing to fear, but fear itself", or "I have a dream.")

The Dream became a Reality

Moving Day

Fumbled Oath

44th

The Fruit of Lincoln's Labor

New Residents at 1600

Obmania

2 Million Man March

We've Come a Long Way

Poor Ted

Here today, Gone this morning

Good-Bye Laura

New First Family

Engaged in two wars & financial dire straits and $160,000,000.00 of the taxpayers' $$ was spent on A Party for One... Nice change Dems.

Already Hoping for a Change

I Feel Sick

Frigid Stroll into History

On the serious side, I want what my wise FIL wants in this new POTUS, "Sweetie, I hope in 4 years I'll want to vote for him..."

Well said FIL. Me too.

I wish him well.

I hope he is successful in all he dreams and promises for this the Greatest Country in the World.

Love Note to my Big Shooter: I didn't tell you the rest of the story about your boy when it came to the "privates, goodies, garter mix-up". After Boy Child was reminded what a garter was he thought for a little bit and then asked, "Is that the little thing I'll sling-shot and other guys will catch it?" I responded affirmative. With a concerned expression he observed, "But...if it touched my wife...I really don't want other guys to touch it Mommy..."

Be still my heart. You're doing a great job with him Love. Thank you from his mother, sister, and his future wife and daughters.

Bah Hum Bug Anyone?

First, it was Girl Child who wondered about the lack of Christmas lights on our street. Then it was Boy who commented on our own house lacking any real Holiday Cheer. Now tonight, it was Big Shooter who made mention of the slim pickins' in the way of Christmas cards we've received this year. At first I just pooh poohed it as people seem to have been caught off guard by Christmas this year. Me included in that by the way. (Please keep that in mind Mom and Dad as you sit and wait for the UPS guy...)
But then as we were out tonight running some errands that couldn't be put off any longer, I began really looking around. Houses that have had their decorations up and flashing for the past 20+ years on Black Friday are bare this time around. The downtown building that usually leaves certain office lights on on each floor to form a skyscraper sized Christmas tree on the facade is dark. The extra merchandise the stores stocked their shelves with seem to still be overstocked. I, myself, have been trying to come up with a believable excuse to not do our annual New Year's letter.
What is it?

The obvious reason is the economy.
But could it be something else?
Are people finally getting tired of seeing Christmas in July? Or being made to feel guilty if they didn't buy everyone they know and their dogs a gift? Or grown just plain weary of the whole dang thing??
We've all cut back, out, down and around this year. But I, personally, feel it is more than that. I think as we have had to give up, we are giving in to so much more.
We,the Shooter family, are spending more at the grocery store. But that is because we are spending less time on the road running between here and yonder while grabbing a quick bite out. Which means we are spending more time around the dinner table conversing and less in the car on the cell... We're finding all this extra time in the evenings for "just hangin' out with Daddy" or takin' a quick walk around the block and over the highway in "the cool caged bridge". (What can I say? We live in the bad part of town...)
One of the errands tonight was The Santa Visit. As I listened to my most precious gifts telling St. Nick what they'd like I had another epiphany. Their views were changing too. Boy Child asked for a Monopoly game and a bike. Girl Child asked for a bow with arrows and also a bike. These choices screamed out two words to me: Family Time.
If having a national Bah Hum Bug crisis is what it takes for us all to start treasuring each other again...then I'm all for it!
So, "Bah Hum Bug to each and everyone of you! I love ya!"

Love Note to my Big Shooter: 12???? 12 Glorious years! ...ain't bad outta 17, huh? Happy Anniversary, Love of my Life.

It was like pushing the Rewind button...

Each time I took the camera out of it's case one of the Crumbs would comment, "Did ya see some thing else that reminds ya of when you were our age that ya need to blog about?"

Apparently, we drove them nuts with our eager beaver sharing of childhood stories...little twits.

I mean who wouldn't want to take a picture of one of the many tumble weeds traveling on it's way across the state???

Or our old swimming hole?

Big Shooter's comment was, "Did they re-do it out here? I remember that dock being a whole lot further out than that..."

It's amazing finding out how small our enormous childhoods really were.

They didn't say a word about me taking their pictures. Just struck a pose.

I didn't think to get a picture of my Aunt Kathy's pancakes. She's made them for Big Shooter and I now for 20+ years when we travel through Wyoming. They are the Best on the Planet. I have only tasted one other person's who come close. It was a little dive in a not so good part of Plainsville. One day they were open, the next day they were arrested for selling drugs out the back door. No, I am not kidding. No more pancakes unless we happen to be in Cheyenne. My sweet auntie is in charge of the dispatch office for the Cheyenne sheriff's department. I drove with her from Denver to Cheyenne and heard her in action. We encountered a situation that was getting more dangerous by the second so she immediately called 911 and reported, "Yes Ma'am, I've got a 120 involving a tractor trailer license number yada, yada, yada on Colorado I-80 northbound, mile marker 23 at 75 mph, please advise CHP units in the location." Thank goodness she was in the car or here would have been mine, "...uh yeah, there's a really big truck weaving in front of me that doesn't have any lights..."
I wish I'd thought ahead and taken a pic of those golden circles...but in there place I can share a picture of her son. I posted this pic just to get his goad. We're kissin' cousins. Our names rhyme. He just earned his doctorate. I still call him Butthead. That's his little Southern Belle-soon-to-be-wife. I love her. I want to marry her.
Also, since I didn't get pics of the pancakes I get to sneak in others that kinda, sorta have to do with my sweet auntie. This is her newest grandbaby.

My cute as a button girl cousin was big preg-GO when we went through Denver the first time. The day we left she had this little beauty. So the Crumbs and I got to snuggle with her on our way home.

Girl Child was in Hog Heaven.
I kid you not, I about fell over when Boy Child asked to hold her.
It was 10 seconds longer than he's ever held a baby before.
Ever.


Showing the Crumbs the Canyon was a highlight for both of us to revel and enjoy. We both have incredibly fond memories of the canyon as children and then dating.

Have I ever mentioned I floated in a hot air balloon in this canyon? I believe that is why I am now afraid of falling from great heights.

Y'all already heard about The Rock.

Does Boy Child look like Calvin to you? He does to me...even in his sister's purple striped hat with the flower.

What other things set off the Childhood memories?

Grandma's cookin' and playing games with her.

When Thanksgiving dinner was over she said in my ear, "You ready to play games girl? They are on the front passenger side floor board of my truck..."

She's 86.

She'd come prepared and ready to whip some tail.

The first we played is called Probe. It's been played in our family since the

early 60's. That was a blast from the past!
And the one we had been dying to do?

Eat at this hamburger joint.

They began in Twin Falls.

Now they are all over the surrounding areas.

We stopped at the first one we saw...

mmmm, they put a white sauce on their burgers instead of ketchup.

The Best on the Planet.

What do you look forward to when you visit your hometown?

What floats your boat?

What's your favorite blast from the past?

Do you ever wish you really could hit the rewind button?

Love Note to my Big Shooter: I do wish I could hit the rewind button again and again. There are so many times I'd love to re-live with you. Skiing, Chicago, Sun Valley, cookin' with your momma, havin' FIL save my butt a hundred times, seeing you walk in the Hallmark to chat, all those long drives across the states, walking the big dogs, snuggling in stormy weather, making Crumbs (wish I could remember Girl Child), watching our babies sleep...the list goes on and on. Thank you for always adding to it.

I need an air sick bag now...that got way too gag-a-rama for me...cough.

19 Random Facts in 10 Minutes

While driving the big Gas Hog some where between Wakeeny and Colby, Kansas I had this great idea to write down a bunch of facts to post about. Here's what I came up with in 10 minutes:

1. According to Girl Child, McDonald's has really thought their dips through because Sweet & Sour seals are much easier to remove than Ranch seals.


2. The Dairy Queen in Wakeeny, KS does not make chocolate ice cream on Mondays...and they could care less whether you drove 7 miles off the interstate and promised your Crumbs they could have a "Cherry Dipped-In" or not.


3. In Kansas, farm cats = road kill.


4. Not all Wal*Marts are created equal.


5. Surprisingly, a bbq joint named Frisky Brisket didn't stay in business in Russell, KS.


6. We have red dirt roads in rural OK. There is a 20 mile stretch in the middle of KS that has pure white rural dirt roads. If anyone knows why, the Crumbs and I are dying to know. They look like brilliant white chalk.


7. Wyoming is as bold, wild and rustic a frontier as it's always been...and I hope it is never tamed.


8. It is amazing to me that people driving a car that could fit in the Gas Hog's back storage area feel free to cut me off going 79 mph after I've been driving alone with an 8 and 10 yr. old for 19 hours...&$%^@*!!


9. I'd move to Denver tomorrow if Big Shooter could tolerate sudden change.


10. Kansas landscape does not grow on you.


11. If it seems I am picking on Kansas, I am. (Sorry Sashi.)


12. I do not like being away from Big Shooter. At all.


13. The smell of a fish hatchery reminded me of trips to the coast with my mom and grandparents.


14. They bale corn in round bales in Kansas. Made me wonder what else they bale.


15. Time in a moving vehicle goes rather quickly with family chit chatting. Really.


16. Seeing Idaho tags for the first time was as exciting as seeing Oklahoma tags coming back!


17. Truckers who oblige an 8 yr. old Crumb pumping her arm up and down like crazy with a long, loud honk are angels in my book.


18. God's creativity is splendid.


19. Writing in my little blog book at 79 mph is extremely s-t-u-p-i-d.

And now a few random photos for my random facts...

Enjoying a sunrise in Wyoming.

Hiding from Momma, pretending to be camera shy.

I'd forgotten about the snowdrift fences all along the interstates in Wyoming. I remember being fascinated by them as a child. Could snow really drift that high?

The answer: Oh yes, it can. And does.

The reason I put random photos in for this random post was so I could alleviate some of the pain you all are going to inevitably face reading about our trip in the next few days. I figure the more pix I can squeeze in now, the less for later. I apologize in advance.

Big Shooter and I took the Crumbs up to the area we kinda had our honeymoon. That is another post for another time. It involves me staying in a B&B by myself, pneumonia, an ambulance ride and a tiger-striped painted who-ha. (Yes, you read that correctly. Who-ha.)

Maybe if you click on this pic to enlarge it you'll be able to make out Big Shooter and the Crumbs hiking down the hill. They are directly in the middle of the picture, Girl is wearing pink. They had a blast being where Momma & Daddy had many a date...sigh.

Love Note to my Big Shooter: I love you so. I am glad to be home with you again. Just thinking about you makes my heart skip a beat and my toes curl.