Monday, February 28, 2011

Books R Us

 I will now attempt to entertain you with our goings on this weekend.

The festivities began Friday evening with a meal of "Chicago Style" hot dogs. Perhaps looking for Chicago Style hot dogs in New Mexico was a mistake.  They were average at best.

After our meal of average hot dogs we were off for more high times on the LC (Las Cruces for those of you who are not "hip" current jargon).  (I think if you say "hip" in quotes it sort of shows how un-"hip" you are).

ANYWAY, off to Barnes & Noble to see what excitement awaits there and to pick up a copy of Sarah's Key.  This is the book that Big Mama ( has selected for the Book Club title.  I took it home and started to read it.  I could not put it down.  I read the entire book IN ONE SITTING. The book is the tale of some of the atrocities that occurred during 1942 in Paris and how the lives of two families intertwine over 60 years.  This is one good book.

While there we also picked up a copy of Farts A Spotter's Guide for Jacob, our grandson.  I tried to convince the clerk it was for Danny but she didn't buy my story.

Then we went home and I proceeded to stay up way to late to read Sarah's Key.

And maybe sneak a peak at Farts A Spotter's Guide.

Friday, February 25, 2011

Romper Stomper Part Duex

Romper Room.

I have a love/hate relationship with Romper Room.

I loved the show as a preschooler.  I longed to be one of the six lucky souls picked to sit with Miss Whoever at the table and have a snack.  I wanted to walk on Romper Stompers in the studio.  I just knew I would be the best Romper Stomper Miss Whoever had ever seen if she would just give me a chance.  I knew the Bend and Stretch song by heart.  And Punch Bowls.  I knew how to "punch, punch, punch the ball.  Punch it all day long.  Use your hand, your fist, your wrist.  But keep it on the run".  I was the perfect student for The Romper

But, alas, I was never chosen for the honor.  I was allowed to sit in the peanut gallery during a show which consisted pf sitting on bleachers and watching Miss Whoever interact with the half-dozen chosen ones.  It was the beginning of my failures at local television.  I had to sit in the peanut gallery at the local showing of The Popeye Show so I had no air time that time either.

It just seemed to much stress to try out for Dance Party.

I may need extensive therapy for childhood trauma.

Such a sad, sad tale.  It's a wonder I survived. But there is light at the end of the tunnel.  I could try out for Survivior next year.  Or Real Housewives of Beverly Hill.  Or The Bachelor.  What?  It could happen.

Perhaps I have discovered the roots of my obsession with reality shows.

And now presenting Miss Nancy.  Although Miss Nancy was not MY Miss Whoever in Mayfield, Kentucky, this clip is from the era that I remember. 

Thursday, February 24, 2011

Romper Stomper Domper Do

Back in the day, before Dora, before Sesame Street, before Mr. Rogers, there was Romper Room.  My five year old hearts desire was to be on Romper Room.  I wanted to be there when Miss Whoever ( it seemed to change) would take out her Magic Mirror and say those immortal words...

"Romper Stomper Domper Do
Tell me, tell me, tell me true
.Magic Mirror tell me today
Have all my friends had fun at play?"

 In the background of this picture you can see Do Bee and Don't Bee. I really can not tell exactly what Do Bee is saying but under Don't Bee I just can make out "I won'ter".  Now that word is working my spellchecker overtime!  It seems like Miss Whoever would sing a song that included the words," Don't be a Don't Bee, do bee a Do Bee."  I really thank it was Bee-er but when I was typing that it looked like Do Beer.  Not exactly a good sentiment for pre-schoolers.

I don't really remember what went on during Romper Room.  If I remember correctly it seems that it consisted of kids playing with toys on television.  Excitement! Seems rather tame by today's standards by I was entranced.
I never got on Romper Room but I did get to be in the "peanut galley".  I got to visit the set and Miss Whatever read me a book and gave me a snack. I was so happy.

Wednesday, February 23, 2011

It's a Southern Thing, Ya'll

 Update to yesterday's blog.  My daughter,Susan, has informed me by Facebook (because that is the oh so modern way for mothers and daughters to communicate) that I made a itsy, bitsy mistake yesterday.  I know, I know, you thought I was practically perfect in every way,\.  Apparently the New Kids On the Block are referred to as NKOTB not NKOB as I reported yesterday.  I guess that T is very important to fans of boy bands.

.It has been well documented that Southern girls love pearls.  So three Christmas' ago Danny bought me a beautiful string of pearls with matching earrings.

You can see them in this school picture from when?  Maybe 2009?  And do you think my name may be Pamela? One of the benefits of being a teacher is that you get FREE school pictures.  I guess it is to make up for the low pay.

Let's look at another example (and another free school picture).

I sort of have the deer in the headlights look here (what do you expect from a free school picture? This is just a half step above a passport picture) but you can see my lovely pearls.

But when I was looking at some old pictures I ran across this from I think second grade.

When I showed this school picture ( which I'm going to assume was not free) to Danny and asked him what he saw around my neck he replied that it looked to him like a string.  It is NOT a string. What self respecting Southern girl would wear a STRING for goodness sake around her neck for picture day? I remember this picture day clearly.   If memory serves the sweater was red and that is a string of  seed "pearls" or "pearlettes" that I am wearing.  I believe I remember my miom fastening them around my neck just for picture day. My love affair for pearls apparently started early.

And how much better do I look in black and white?  

On a side note, do you see those curls and waves in my hair?  I have what my mother used to call hair "as straight as a board".  Those curls are the result of sleeping on pin curls.  And I'm sure this picture was taken before lunch because by lunch time, those curls would be gone and my straight hair would return.

But I digress.  Pearls.  I love them.  I wear mine daily.

Tuesday, February 22, 2011

The Right Stuff-NKOB

My daughter has a problem. She is Kids On the Block (NKOB).  Just look at this picture she recently posted on Facebook.
She is holding tickets she got for the NKOB concert in Dallas?  Houston?  San Antonio?  Some place in Texas.  But what is important is the manic look in her eyes.  The silly smile.  She totally looks like a NKOB groupie.

But this is not a new affliction for my lovely daughter.  When we lived in Germany, NKOB became popular.  Susan, as a sixth grader, fell madly in love.  Sort of like Bieber Fever now.  We felt it was harmless.  So we did the unthinkable.

We took her to Frankfort to a NKOB concert.

We drove her and several other squealy little girls FOUR hours to a NKOB concert.


Susan has the t-shirt to prove it.

Susan wearing the original concert shirt while standing in a European gate, probably German..

Susan wearing a second t-shirt while standing in front of a German marionette shop.

And now, just for my darling daughter, I present THE NEW KIDS ON THE BLOCK!!!

Monday, February 21, 2011


So this afternoon, I was reading one of my favorite blogs, Boo Mama.  And she was talking about Walgreens. I love some Walgreens for health and beauty aids.  When I cannot find my favorite John Friedan shampoos at Target or Wal-Mart, I slap my forehead and say,"I should have gone to Walgreens."

Also, go to theBoo Mama  blog (check my Blog Roll for the link) to register for a chance to win a $100 gift card to Walgreens.  And enjoy some good reading.

President's Day

Danny and I have a long weekend in which to honor our presidents.  What could be the best way to do that?  Google the life of our presidents and medicate on their works.  We could make attractive crafts that honor our presidents.  You know, popsicle stick log cabins and the like.  Now a cherry pie in honor of George Washington does have possibilities.

So we started out spending Friday evening with our dear friends.  These are three couples that we have been friends with for over twenty years.  We have laughed together, cried together, and fussed together.  But these are the six people I would call if I had any kind of trouble.Loyalty, that sounds like a good trait for a president.

After my four mile walk I attended an event I have wanted to get involved with for years.  I went to the Make a Blanket Day with the Linus Project. I met many delightful ladies who spend countless hours making blankets to comfort children when they are in distress.They inspired me. I am now working on my first baby afghan to donate.  I am excited abut this project. Examples of service, now that would be a good trait for a president.

Sunday we went to church and worshiped with saints in our congregation. Church going, another good trait for a president.

Maybe we did celebrate Presidents Day. If only our Presidents and elected officials ALL had these traits.

Friday, February 18, 2011

So, how much do I and my mom look like each other?  

 In the first picture my mom is sitting on the front stoop of our Army duplex at White Sands Missile  Range holding Baby Susan.  My mom is clad in blue jeans and a jazzy yellow top. Notice that Baby Susan and Mamma Gran are both sporting  yellow flip flops (the thicker sole that they are wearing were considered VERY fashion forward in 1978). Do you see cute yellow sunsuit?  I am sure Mamma Gran bought it for her and if you look at the smile on Baby Susan’s face she really seems to be on her way to becoming a pint-sized fashionista. She is working the model pose already!
Let’s contrast that with the photograph with me.  While I am striking the same pose on the front stoop of our Army duplex at White Sands Missile Range holding Baby Susan that is where the similarities end. I am attired in   blue jeans like my mom but that shirt is left over from my university days. My feet are bare. 

Baby Susan is wearing booties.  Baby Susan is attired in an outfit that I purchased at the Thrift Shop for a dime.  Yes, that’s right, $0.10.   If you look at the expression on her face, I think she is aware of the bargain basement beginnings of her clothing. I was a big spending mamma

I think my mom won the fashion contest.

Thursday, February 17, 2011

Goofy Face

To continue the Champion Family Saga…

Susan came into our lives and turned them upside down.  Between the two of us we thought we had this baby thing under control.  I had read EVERY book printed on the subject.  Danny approached the whole child-raising thing the way he approaches everything, very logically.  Not a problem.

But once we got ourselves up off the ground from the sheer magnitude of what we had undertaken, we started noticing something about our little bundle of joy.  She had developed a little talent.  We called it her ability to make Goofy Face.

Easter.  She is about 3-4 months old.  First, her normal beautiful face.

See the attractive hint of a grin.  The twinkle in her eye.

Now for Goofy Face.

Aw, yes.  A face only a mother could love.

But you know what, I love her Goofy Face.

Wednesday, February 16, 2011

And Then There Was Susan

Let’s go back to the tale of Danny and Pam…

On January 17, 1978, Danny and I drove in to Dr. Marketto’s office for my regular ob appointment.  Up until this point I my pregnancy had been remarkably uneventful.  Some swelling around the ankles but nothing to write home about.  We expected another routine appointment.

Imagine our surprise when Dr. Marketto told us that we were to go directly to the hospital.  I protested a little and he told us that we were having a baby tomorrow.  And that if we didn’t go to the hospital he could loose me, my baby, or both.  We drove to the hospital.

Once there, I was placed in a private room with curtains drawn.  No lights.  No television.  No telephone calls.  No stimulation of any kind.  I had pre-eclampsia and my blood pressure had escalated to dangerous levels.  When Danny went home that night, all I could do was lie in that hospital bed and cry and pray for my baby.

The next day after attempts to induce labor failed, I was wheeled into the operating room for a caesarean.  After all the uncertainty, after all pain, after all the prayers, guess what we got.  Susan Emily.  After January 18, 1978 our lives were never the same.

Tuesday, February 15, 2011

Monday, February 14, 2011

If You Know a Woman

If you are a woman.  If you know a woman.  If you love a woman.

WARNINGContent may be offensive but the message is powerful.

This video made me cry.
When is it going to be enough?

Friday, February 11, 2011

Love, Love, Love

On Monday, the sales of flowers and candy will skyrocket. Men everywhere will try to prove their love to their women faire by purchasing candy, flowers, and jewelry.  Danny will too. In fact, before Friday, the 11th, he had brought me flowers TWICE. But Danny could give men everywhere lessons on expressing servant love.

Example One
This is the  controller that is attached to the heated mattress pad on our bed.

Ever night, about 15 minutes before bedtime, Danny goes and turns the bed down and turns the heated mattress pad so that the bed will be warm for me when I get ready to go to sleep.  My bed is always warm and toasty on cold winter night.

Now, that is love.

Example Two
This looks like a simple newspaper on a rather messy coffee table with a headline about our recent cold snap.  But it is much, much, more.

I get early five days of week and head off to teach first graders in the south valley.  On Saturday I like to sleep in and sort of EASE into the day while Danny prefers to go get an early bagel. Before he leaves, he brings in the newspaper and leaves it so that I can sit in my pajamas  and read the paper before I start all the Saturday errand running.

That is love.

Example Three
I have saved the best for last.  I really wish I had taken a before picture but I didn’t so here is the after picture.

Excuse my horrible photography skills.  What you see here is my yellow, Mazda 6.  It. is. in. the. garage.
When we moved into this house over 10 years ago, we kept the right side of the garage clear for a vehicle.  The left side, however, was stacked full of stuff we “were going to go through later”.  In other words, junk.
Meanwhile, my car was parked outside in 110 degrees in the summer and had ice on the windows in winter.  For my birthday, I asked Danny if we could get the garage cleaned out so that I could park my car inside.  AND HE AGREED!  It was packed with all kinds of treasures that we had to jettison.

That is love.
My husband expresses servant love on a daily basis.  

He is a servant.

I love you, Danny.

Thursday, February 10, 2011

Ain't he sweet?

Last  night, Danny topped at Albertson's on the way home for some the necessities of life.  You know, tostado chips, Honey Crisp apples, and Spring Mix Salad Greens.  But along with the more mundane items he brought this into the house.                                                                                                                                         

Ain't he just about the sweetest thing you ever saw?  I think so.

Wednesday, February 9, 2011

NEW YORK CITY? Get a rope!

In an effort to eat a more healthy diet, I have been trying to eat more salads.  But there are only so many ways to make Spring Mix look and taste interesting.  So I am always searching for ways to make my daily salads more appetizing.  So imagine my excitement when I spied this is my local Wal-Mart.

Tortilla Strips for salads.  In Chipotle Cheddar flavor.  By Texas Toast. It was a trifecta of salad goodness.  BUT WAIT.  WHAT DO I SEE.  Let’s go in for a closer look shall we?

Does that say New York brand  above “The Original Texas Toast” ?  I’m confused. How can TEXAS toast be from New York? Is this toast Texas or Texas-like?  It even says “Zesty Southwest Crunch” across the bottom of the bag.

I feel betrayed…

Tuesday, February 8, 2011


To continue the story of our little family.

So, Danny and I were ecstatic about our upcoming blessed event. After being told this was impossible, I was so happy that my feet didn't touch the ground for nine months. 

The folks back in Kentucky had a shower for me even though I wasn’t there.  The ladies at University Church of Christ had a delightful shower for me.  We acquired a used crib and Danny painted it and applied nursery decals to the front.

I had a disgracefully easy pregnancy.  No morning sickness.  Perfectly normal pregnancy.  But something was obviously going on. I wonder what it could be?

Monday, February 7, 2011

Give Me S'More Super Bowl

So…yesterday was the Super Bowl and I spent the day with friends.  My cooking prowess is well know in my social circle so normally I am asked to bring paper plates or chips (because there is NO WAY to mess that up). But this year I brought something that had to be cooked... that used heat... and a stove. After surfing the internet looking for something within my culinary abilities, I came upon S'More Brownies on the Betty Crocker website.  It had chocolate, marshmallows, and Betty said they were easy.  Betty wouldn't lie.  So, I decided to give them a whirl. Something this momentous surely needs documenting…

Step One.  Assemble the ingredients.
 As you can see, there are some fine "makin's" here.  If this goes horribly wrong, I can go sit in the corner and gorge myself on chocolate and marshmallows.

Step Two.  Prepare the mix according to the package instructions.
While this may seem like the no-brainer portion of this process for many of you, trust me when I say that I have been known to mess this stage up.  Let's just say I have, in the past, had to  to pick eggs out when I put too many in the batter.

Step Three.  Pour in pan.

Once again, a no-brainer for many people but not for me.
Step Four. Lick the bowl.
My PERSONAL favorite for any cooking process.
Step Five and Six. Cook. You think that step is obvious.  Maybe.  Maybe not.  When the brownies are done, REMOVE from oven (A very important step.  Don't ask me how I know, I just know.) and cover the brownies with marshmallows and crumbled graham crackers

Step Seven.  Return to oven under the broiler until the marshmallows are slightly toasted.  Remove from oven and sprinkle with broken chocolate bars.  And you will get something that looks like this!

Now, all you real cooks out there are probably scoffing at my little attempt to cook, but I am proud.  I cooked something that involved stirring, measuring, heat, and timing.  We need to have a moment of silence for this miracle. (moment of silence.)  You may now resume your inter-netting.

By the way, Betty didn't lie.  They were easy and delicious.

Friday, February 4, 2011

And Baby Makes Three

After all our kittens grew up and left home (sniff, sniff), Danny and I decided that cats and kittens were not what was missing in our little family.  So we decided to start a REAL family.  This would be easy, right?  How hard could this be?  Obviously our cats had no trouble.

But it was not that easy.  There were  problems.  Trips to fertility clinics at William Beaumont Hospital in El Paso.  Tests.  Tests.  And even more tests.  Then the prognosis.  I could not get pregnant.

                                     But sometimes faith in God proves all doctors and tests wrong.

Thursday, February 3, 2011

Does the Army Count Kittens as Dependents?

So after Danny completed his US  Government  sponsored “spa trip”, we load up the smallest U-Haul that was available and headed to White Sands Missile Range, NM. We set up housekeeping in base housing with government furnishings.  We were ready for a photographic spread in Good Housekeeping!

But our little love nest seemed empty.  Something was missing.  What could it be?  I had the answer…A CAT.  This is when I found the first of many facts that my darling husband had hid from me when we were courting.  He was a CAT HATER!  It was bad enough that he was Republican, but a cat hater!  I felt betrayed.

But to Danny’s credit he overlooked his deep seated prejudices and allowed Big Foot to enter our little home. 
Doesn’t he look happy in this picture?

Big Foot is the yellow tomcat that is giving Danny the eye.  But if you look beside Danny’s head you will see a little gray cat. You see,  I had become concerned about the mental health of Big Foot since he was growing up all by himself.  I was sure he was lonely so we got the other cat.  But there was a problem.  See if you can figure out what was wrong just by what we called her.

HER name was Missy.  And just like that we were grandparents! Don’t they look just like their grandfather?

update  Danny informs me that the yellow tabby we had at this time was not named Big Foot.  Big Foot was an another yellow tabby that we got at a later time.  This one was named Tom. 

Wednesday, February 2, 2011

Dust in the Wind

I attend a Bible study on Tuesday nights called Bible Study Fellowship (BSF).  This year we are studying Isaiah. Studying  Isaiah intimidates me only slightly less than, say, an in-depth study of Revelations. Shaking in my boots every week.

But this week a couple of verses jumped out at me and I had a epiphany (and no, it didn’t hurt) . Verses 23-24 state,” He brings princes to naught and reduces the rulers of this world to nothing.  No sooner are they planted, no sooner are they sown, no sooner do they take root in the ground, than he blows on them and they wither, and a whirlwind sweeps them away like chaff.”

I starting thinking of all the leaders of the world past and present.  Caesar,  Churchill, Hitler, Abraham Lincoln, George Bush (1 and 2), Clinton, Reagan, Obama, etc.  I thought of all the honor and glory we have given these and other leaders.  God is so mighty that these leaders will be swept “away like chaff”.  When things are not going my way (or even going the way I want) during elections, I will remember that all of this is nothing by dust to be blown away by my Father.

                                              They are nothing but dust in the wind.

Tuesday, February 1, 2011

Danny's Little Spa Trip (courtsey of the US Army

So, while I was busy selling his beloved ’65 VW, the United States Army was keeping Danny occupied at Fort Knox, Kentucky with Basic Training. Or as I like to call it , ”Danny ‘s Little Spa Trip”.

It HAD to be a spa trip.  He went off pasty white with little muscle tone.  He returned tan, new haircut, new wardrobe, and physically fit.  Sounds like a spa trip to me! What other explanation could there be?

He insisted that there were marches in the 90% humidity.  All night guard duty.  Runs uphill wearing combat boots and fatigues.  Gas chambers. I think he exaggerates.   How hard could it be?

I mean, look how happy he looks in his spiffy new green outfit.