memoir

Best Dog Jokes of the Day

lbeth1950's avatarNutsrok

 

DogcoPilot

#1 Mrs Green’s Dog & her neighbor

Mrs Green was walking to the post office when her neighbor came up to her and said “Hello Janis, How’s your dog? I saw her yesterday chasing an old man on a bike.”

“Oh” said Mrs Green “That could NOT have been my dog”

“Oh, why not?” replied her neighbor “I’m pretty sure it was her”

“Well” stated Mrs. Green smiling “my dog doesn’t ride a bike”

funnydog

#2 Seeing Eye Dog

A blind man walks in to a department store with his seeing eye dog on a leash.

The store manager behind the customer service counter looks up, notices the customer is blind, and quickly looks away again.

Out of the corner of his eye he sees the blind man start swinging the dog over his head with its leash. S

hocked, the manager runs over and says, “Mister, is there a…

View original post 1,482 more words

Charley’s Tale Part 17

Bessie was waiting in the bright kitchen with a pitcher of iced tea.  “Y’all come on in and set  a spell. I’ll have some cookies out of the oven in just a minute.  Shoo cat!  Git off that chair.”  She tipped a ladder-back chair and a fat orange cat landed on all fours, even though she’d been asleep seconds ago.  Bessie hurried to pour two Mason jars full of iced tea.  “I made that tea real sweet, just the way you always liked it, Dr. Charles.”

”It hits the spot after that dusty drive.” Charles finished his glass and poured another.  “How have you been, Bessie?  Before I forget, Cora was hoping you’d fattened up a rooster for her church’s dinner on the grounds, Sunday.  She also told me to hit you up for some butter, cream, eggs, and greens, if you had some to spare.”

“I got plenty.  She called me last week to be savin’ up.  Now you come out, I won’t have to git Robert to run it in to her.  Charley, I know you been sick, but you looking good, ‘ceptin’ you too skinny. I’ll git you plumped right up and you’ll forgit you that ol’ pneumonia tried to git you. Maybe you and Freddy can pick Cora a couple of gallons of dewberries if you up to it.  He’ll be back in just a minute.  He run down to the feed store.  I b’lieve he’s sweet on that little gal whose Daddy runs it.

“Is that Soupy, Grandma’s old cat?”  Charley asked, rubbing the cat’s ears. The cat hopped nimbly on Charley’s lap, sensing a welcome.

“Naw, this here ‘s Bubbles.  Soupy was probably this cat’s granny.  I always keep me an orange housecat to keep mice on the run.  I don’t hardly have to feed this one, just put out a little cream everyday.  She’s a good hunter and keeps the mice and snakes away.   A couple of times,  I even seen her with a rabbit  she kilt.  Many’s the time I’ve heard her calling her kittens when she catches sumpin’ and they come just a skittering.  She even taught them kittens to catch minnows in the cow pound.   I kept two kittens out of her last litter.  I never gentled them much so they stays in the barn.  They follers the fellers out to milk and dance when you squirt milk in their mouth just like Soupy done.”

Bessie rambled on, reminding Charley of  simple childhood days making no mention of his late difficulties.  The warm conversation between Bessie and Charles from the judgment and cruelty of late.  The waxed linoleum  and deep rugs before the sink and stove were indistinguishable from those of his childhood.  A jar of jam, one of pickles, and salt and pepper shakers  rested on a lazy Susan centered on the bright, oil-cloth covered kitchen table. Bessie’s housedress and crisp apron completed the familiar picture.  The return to familiar comfort was a balm to Charley’s  bruised soul.

“These cookies ought to hold you over,” she said as she put a plate of cookies on the table before them.  “Y’all want some milk to go with these?  I got to git started frying  up that chicken.  The menfolks will be in at straight-up twelve.  I can’t keep ‘em waiting. When y’all git done with them cookies, you can put Charley’s stuff up in the old room, if that’s where you want to sleep, Charley.  I got it aired out and fixed up with white curtains, a nice crazy quilt of Miss Geneva’s, and a new rag rug I made you.  All your old stuff is in a box in the attic if you want any of it.”

”That sounds fine, Bessie.” Charley said.  “It’s so good to be back.  It almost feels like Grandma’s gonna come through that door any minute.”

”I sure miss her.” Bessie said as she turned from the chicken she was flouring.  “We gonna take care of you just like she would’a.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Happiness! The Count is Coming to Town!

lbeth1950's avatarNutsrok

CountOn the subject of happiness, some days start routinely no expectation of stumbling into pure joy.  One of my precious children, who shall remain forever nameless, experienced

View original post 47 more words

Housework won’t kill you, but why take a chance? — Musings on Life & Experience

Originally posted on bluebird of bitterness: Both hilarious and true. bluebird of bitterness View original post

via Housework won’t kill you, but why take a chance? — Musings on Life & Experience

Charley’s Tale Part 16

Charles and Charley rode along in companionable silence till they were out of town.  Charley was obviously deep in thought but finally spoke.  “Dad, I need a new name.  How do I do that?”

“I’ve been thinking about that, already.  I talked to your Uncle Louis about it.  He thinks the easiest way would be to request a correction on your original birth certificate for your sex and name as though the original was wrong.  He is a well-known lawyer with friends in the courthouse and won’t be questioned like the average citizen when he files the request.  Think about what name you’d like and I’ll get back to Lou. We should be able to get this taken care of before you go off to college in the fall.”   Charles was glad Charley had brought this up, now.  It had been on his own mind for weeks.

”How about Charles Louis so I can go by Charley?”

”That ought to work.  I’ll let Louis know.”

Charley hummed distractedly as he often did when thinking.  “Son, what’s on your mind?”  Charley was a bit startled at being addressed as “Son” for the first time.  “I’ve been wondering what kind of life I’ll ever have.  I can’t be a normal man.  I never wanted to be a girl, but I’ll never be a real man.  I can’t get married or go in the military.  I probably can’t even get in college.  Everybody is going to know I am a freak.  What the point?  I can’t have any kind of normal life.”

“Charley, I don’t have any answers, but I believe you’ll make a place for yourself.  You’re not obligated to tell anyone your business.  Folks don’t generally go around asking personal questions.  I recommend you get familiar with the changes in yourself before worrying about getting too involved with the community.   There’s no reason they would connect you with the little girl who used to visit the farm, even if they remembered a couple of little girls used to spend time there with their grandma.  She and Cousin Frances both pretty much kept to themselves, never even going to church.  I truly believe one day you will find someone who will care you, just for yourself.  That’s soon enough to worry about explaining.   You aren’t the only person who’s had to deal with such a thing.  I have a patient in a similar situation.  You’d be shocked if I told you who it was.  She was married with children.  She moved here a few years after you were born.  I delivered her babies or I’d never have known.”

“I’ll bet it’s Jody Fischer, ain’t it?”  He mentioned a very masculine-looking woman who drove the school bus in from the country.  “She looks and acts just like a man.” he snorted.

“No, it’s not.  I don’t know anything about Jody.  I suspect she’s a homosexual, but that’s none of my business.”  Charles answered.

“You mean it’s not the same thing?”  Charley was surprised.

“Not at all.  A homosexual is interested in persons of the same sex.  A heterosexual is interested in persons of the opposite sex.  It’s as simple as that.”  Charles knew he was the only person Charley could ask, so he was anxious not to confuse him.  “You have mixed genitalia.  At birth,  you looked more like a girl.  As you grew up, you looked and acted more  like a boy the older you got.  You know as much of the story as I do from the time of your surgery.  I never expected that to happen.”

Charley pounded his breasts  “I hate these!  I wish I could just cut them off!  He wept with despair.

Charles tried to console him.  “I know it’s hard, but some things we can’t change.  You’re are already flatter since you got so thin while you were sick.  I’m hoping, you’ll develop more like your brothers since you don’t have female hormones anymore.  You’ll get more muscular working on the farm with Robert and the boys.  That ought to help.”

Charley didn’t speak for a while.  “Could you pull over?  I need practice driving.”  He composed himself before getting in the driver’s seat.

As he settled, Charles changed the subject to spare him.  “You’re not going to have anything that drives like car this on the farm.  Cousin Frances’s old Model A and the tractor are going to work you over.  I know Robert is going to be careful about trusting you with the farm truck till he knows what you can do.”

“No problem.  I like that old Model A.”

Charley’s mood brightened. “Hey, Dad!  Did you hear the one about the traveling salesman and the farmer’s daughter?”

“Okay, I’m glad you’re feeling better, but I’m not quite ready to swap Traveling Salesman and Farmer’s Daughter Jokes with you.  You got to give me a little time, too.”

“You big sissy!” Charley laughed.  “I’m not the only one with something to get used to!”

Seeking Captain America

Image taken from Marvel site.

I never wanted anything as much as I wanted Captain America.  Bud and I spent a few days with my daughter’s family after Christmas.  Leda, our little granddaughter most-prized gift was a Captain America action figure, that is until the damnable shield was lost.  We searched the house futilely to accompaniment of toddler wails.  It’s amazing how previously-reasonable grandparents can be moved by the distraught cries of a heartbroken little girl.  Soon, we were scurrying out in search of a replacement, something we would never have done with our children.  The way I figure it, she has plenty of time to learn life-lessons after we leave.

It was late. Our first stop was the Walgreen’s where we’d found the original.  I had little hope of finding a replacement. After all, I was pretty sure we’d gotten the last one.  Naturally, that shelf was depleted.  In a panic, we combed all the toy shelves.  Miraculously, Bud found one lone Captain America visiting the Peppa the Pig  display.  He was the true super-hero that day.

Thank you, Walgreen!

Charley’s Tale Part Part 15

Charley never spoke of Marzell’s visit.  Coming down early the next morning, he sat down to breakfast with his father and Cora.  He buttered a couple of biscuits and poured syrup over them. “I’m starving!  Can I get some eggs and bacon, too?”

”Why, shore, Honey.  You need to put some meat back on them bones.”  She grinned putting a cup of coffee with lots of cream before him.  “Them eggs will be ready in just a minute.”  In no time, a plate of grits, eggs and bacon sat in front of him.

Charles was delighted to see Charley downstairs and hungry, but was careful not to overdo it.”Good to see you up and about so early.  I guess you’re back trying to eat me out of house and home like your brothers.”

“I feel good, Dad.  Do you think you could take me out to the farm? I want to work with Robert and Bobby.  Farm work will make a man of me if anything will.”  Charley was clearly ready to get on with life.

“Let me make a quick call.  It’s my half-day and I only have two appointments.  Dr. Jones can pick them up for me.  He owes me, anyway.  He just got back off vacation and ought to be plenty rested.”  In just a minute he was back.  “We’re all set.  Cora, can you give Bessie a call and let her know we’d love some of her fried chicken for lunch if she has a fat chicken penned up.”

“Dr. Charles, could you bring me back some eggs, fresh cream, buttermilk, and greens.  If the dewberries are ready, could Freddy pick me some?  Oh, and if possible, could you bring me a rooster.  Bessie done tol’ me she was gonna git  Robert to fasten one up when I talked to her last week.  It sure would be handy if you could bring it.  I got to make some chicken and dumplings and chicken and dressing for my church’s Sunday Dinner on the grounds? You know I’ll make plenty for y’all, too.  Ginny has been beggin’ to go to services with me ever’ since she found out we gonna have baptizin’ this Sunday.  She never wants to miss that.  I sure hope they’s enough dewberries for me to make cobbler and put some up.  Y’all seem like you can’t never git enough dewberry jam.

After the weeks of languishing about, Charley welcomed the normalcy of the morning.  He knew he’d always held a special place in Charles’s heart and Cora was simply, Cora, the only mother he’d ever known and his soft place to fall.

Just then, Ginny came banging down the stairs.  “Cora!  Charley ate all the bacon and grits! That ain’t right!  You know bacon and grits are my favorite!”

“Don’t you go startin’ nothing with Charley.  If you hadn’t been so lazy, you’d a got yore share.  Sit down and drink this milk and eat a biscuit while I make you some bacon and eggs, but grits takes a while.  Are you gonna still want some if I fix’em?”

“Since Charley got all the grits, can you make me some chocolate gravy? That don’t take long.   I love that.”  In a bargaining mood, felt she might have an advantage.

“How would know how long it takes to make chocolate gravy, young miss?  I ain’t never caught you cookin’ none.”  Cora was already getting out the pan and the cocoa.

“Ooh, thank you, Cora.  I love you.”  She leaned against Cora, always ready for a hug.

“Huh, you loves chocolate gravy.  You’d hug a hobo if he made you chocolate gravy.”  Her smile belied her gruff words.

Charles pushed out his chair and leaned back in his chair.  “Can I get another cup of coffee!”  obviously, basking in the wonder of a happy morning.  They’d survived many hard times in the past and would face challenges in the future, but today was a good day.

 

Chocolate Gravy (Serve over hot biscuits)

1/4 c. cocoa

3 tbs flour (can sub 1 1/2 tbs corn starch for 1 1/2 tbs flour for ease in getting rid of lumps if desired)

3/4 c. white sugar

12 ounce can evaporated milk.  (not sweetened, condensed milk)  Add 4 ounces water to bring up to 2 cups.  Can use fat-free if desired.(Ha!!)

1 tbs softened butter

2 tsp vanilla

Whisk cocoa, flour and sugar in dry sauce pan together till smooth.  Stir in milk and whisk till well-mixed.  (corn starch makes this easier)  Cook over low heat, stirring constantly, 7-10 minutes till it reaches consistency of gravy.  Off course it will scorch if not stirred constantly.  Add vanilla and butter and stir till well-mixed.

Get all you want before you serve it.  It goes quickly.  I used to make this for my kids for rainy days and holidays.

 

 

 

 

 

Ironing and Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder

lbeth1950's avatarNutsrok

vintage-care-instructions-from-a-vintage-bookIt’s terrible how things from your youth manage to creep up on you as you are older.  Ironing, for instance.  After all the mountains of ironing I did as a kid, I swore when I got grown I’d never iron.  Then the miracle of permanent press and dryers came along.  Voila!  For forty years, I wore clothes hung up straight from the dryer.  Those items that required a bit of pressing were hung in the closet and passed over time after time till I just had to wear them, like to a funeral, wedding, or special event.  A dress or blouse might spend five years in the dark only to be discarded when I tired of reaching over it.  I had no problem wearing polyester or blends if they spared me ironing.  Of course, as a nurse, I wore non-descript scrubs…

View original post 602 more words

Wicked Chuckle

lbeth1950's avatarNutsrok

A couple comes up to a wishing well. The guy leans over, makes a wish, and throws in a penny. His wife decides to make a wish, too, but she leans over too far, falls into the well, and drowns.

The guy says, “Son of a… it works!”

Father O’Grady was saying his goodbyes to the parishioners after his Sunday morning service as he always does when Mary Clancey came up to him in tears. “What’s bothering you so, dear?” inquired Farther O’Grady. “Oh, father, I’ve got terrible news,” replied Mary. “Well what is it, Mary?” “Well, my husband, passed away last night, Father.” “Oh, Mary” said the father, “that’s terrible. Tell me Mary, did he have any last requests?” “Well, yes he did father,” replied Mary. “What did he ask, Mary?” Mary replied, “He said, ‘Please, Mary, put down the gun…'”

The old man had died. A wonderful funeral…

View original post 171 more words