Murphy’s Other Laws

Check out Grumpa Joes’s place.

Grumpa Joe's avatarGrumpa Joe's Place

Usually, we blame Murphy’s Law on any thing that goes wrong when it shouldn’t have. Here are a few more of his law’s that are less known.

murphys-law-anything-that-can-go-wrong-will-go-wrong-1-638.jpg

MURPHY’S OTHER 15 LAWS

1. Light travels faster than sound. This is why some people appear bright until you hear them speak.

2. A fine is a tax for doing wrong. A tax is a fine for doing well.

3. He who laughs last, thinks slowest.

4. A day without sunshine is like, well, night.

5. Change is inevitable, except from a vending machine.

6. Those who live by the sword get shot by those who don’t.

7. Nothing is foolproof to a sufficiently talented fool.

8. The 50-50-90 rule: Anytime you have a 50-50 chance of getting something right, there’s a 90% probability you’ll get it wrong.

9. It is said that if you line up all the cars in the world…

View original post 122 more words

I Love Mixed Metaphors

image

image

image

image

image

image

image

image

Miss Laura Mae’s House Part 12

My grandma was in the hospital, we had a houseful of company, and we didn’t go to Miss Laura Mae’s house for several days. I was happy to be sitting on her top step with a biscuit again.

“Well, I ain’t seen y’all in a month of Sundays,” she said “Where you been?”

“Right there at the house,” answered Mother. “I’m so tired I can hardly wiggle. Bill’s mama thought she was having a heart attack and they kept her in the hospital overnight. It turns out it was just a hernia. She was doing fine but they still kept her overnight for tests. They were supposed to let her out the next morning. You know how Dr. Hawkins is. You can’t go to see him without him wanting to keep you overnight for tests. Anyway, she was sleeping and the nurse came to check on her. She thought she was seeing a ghost and got all upset,
convinced she was dying. She had the nurse call Bill to call all the kids in. You know she has seven.

Anyway, all the kids and in-laws came flocking in to the house along with all their kids. There was no need to all pile in at the house and stay all that time. They all live within ten miles of us. I don’t know what good they thought they were doing, anyway. Next thing, her two brothers and their wives showed up. Somebody called her step-brother from way down in South Louisana and told him it might be his last chance to see her. They couldn’t have been close. They hadn’t seen each other in more than twenty years.

“Lordy, was she really that sick? That sounds like a mess.” Miss Laura Mae offered.

“No, nothing was really wrong. She’s just the superstitious type and was convinced it was a sign she was going to die. Anyway, the whole bunch hung around the rest of the night and visited the next day, like it was their last chance to see each other. They made a bunch of long distance phone calls, which I know they’ll never pay for, ate up my week’s supply of groceries, drank up all my coffee, and even used up all the toilet paper. Even after she got out of the hospital, they kept right on visiting. The kids were running in and out banging the doors and screaming and yelling like a bunch of heathens. I stayed behind them with the broom an mop, but it was hopeless. It was horrible. I thought they never would go home. I am so tired, I could sleep for a week. We are out groceries. I don’t even have any dry beans left. We’ll be eating biscuits till payday.” Mother sighed.

“You know, my mother had a stroke last summer. They didn’t know if she’d make it. She lives out in Texas. I wanted to go, but we talked about it and Bill decided we really didn’t have the money. I didn’t get to go for three months. It’s strange how when it’s the man, it is so different. It makes me mad all over we didn’t go when Mama was sick. I could have missed my last chance then. Why are men so selfish?”

“Honey, that’s why I never married agin after Floyd died. Most men think they own their women, an’ women don’t need to do nuthin’ but tend to them, the younguns, an’ the house an’ garden. I wasn’t much past forty and still had a couple of younguns to raise when Floyd died, but it was a lot easier for me to take in ironin’, sew for the public, babysit, or sit with the elderly or the sick than have to answer to another man. Now, don’t get me wrong. They’s a’plenty o’ good men out there, but they do that one bad thing. They just keep on a’breathing in an’ breathin’ out.”

They both laughed till tears were running down their faces.

Update to Miss Laura Mae’s House Part 11

It doesn’t seem fair to leave you hanging with John and Wanda’s story, but Mother didn’t learn any more for more than twenty years. It came by way of John’s second wife, Cathy, who had no particular reason to lie. John never mentioned any of this. John got out of the army after the war but stayed in the Army Reserves for twenty-five years. He went to law school on the GI Bill, but decided to teach instead. He later became a principal and married a teacher. They both taught the children of migrant workers dividing their year between South Texas and California. When they were teaching in California, a young man approached him, telling him he was one of twins and had been born a Holdaway, but was told his father was killed in the war before his birth. His mother married an old boyfriend who had adopted the babies, raising them as his own. At the boys insistence, the two couples met. The sister had married young and he didn’t meet her. It looked like the father-in-law engineered the whole story to break up the young marriage. He and his wife were long-dead, so they all let it drop, not affecting their long marriages. Wondering if it could possibly be true, I searched and found the birth and death records by the adopted name. Indeed, there was a man by the right name, born in the right time period born to Wanda. She did have a marriage recorded shortly after the boy’s birth. Unfortunately, John and Cathy never had children.

https://atomic-temporary-73629786.wpcomstaging.com/2016/04/29/miss-laura-maes-house-part-12/

A Poetic look at Idioms – Meme…

Reblogging from Chris the Story Reading Ape’s Blog

Chris The Story Reading Ape's avatarChris The Story Reading Ape's Blog

image

View original post

I was a Young Tycoon Guest Post by Jacquelen Oby-Ikocha A Cookpot and Twisted Tales

image

I eagerly await the posts of my talented friend, Jacquelen Oby-Ikocha from A Cooking Pot and Twisted Tales. Please check out her lively blog. She is so full of life. I often think how I’d enjoy spending time with her. I am grateful to have the opportunity to exchange guest posts with her on the subject of our younger, naughtier days.

I Was a Young Tycoon
Daddy loved National Geographic and had quite a collection gathered through his bachelor days even before I was born. Like clockwork the pile grew each month with the arrival of his subscription. They were vivid with pictures and moved with us each time we moved house.
Then we lived in staff quarters that were made of blocks of eight blocks and eight three bedroom apartments for each block with servant quarters. Like you can imagine that was a lot of human beings.
One of the neighbours’ daughters was my good friend and I will call her A. A was two years older and seemed very World-wise to me. She always had lots of goody-goody rubbery chocolate, Bazooka Joe or Chat sweet which she gave at her whim and after following her around like a drooling young pup.
She was reluctant to divulge the secret to her young wealth, but I kept my eyes keenly open to observe her mercantile skills which paid off eventually.
The secret was that the garbage collectors that came around several times a week were also willing to buy broken/used household items and I daresay she sold a good bit of her family’s crockery. I got to learn that they collected old tins, gallons and newspapers which would otherwise be tossed into the trash.
So my triangular trade business started off very nicely. I began to exchange my dad’s old newspapers for some kobo’s and purchased goody-goody like an heiress.
Newspapers ran out and we graduated to the glossy National Geographic *I say we because I had unwittingly enrolled my younger sister whose eagle eyes were sharper than mine and the regular scent of sweet on my breath drew her in like an ant*
Unfortunately, during our trading days, my grandma moved to stay with us to help my mom care for a brand new brother and grandma was far too sharp and shrewd for an older lady.
Soon enough she took note of the refuse collectors that seemed to court our house far more than other locations and she burst my bubble gum.
The paddle that she gave me taught me a lesson or twenty and took age off my life.
Surprisingly, my dad was not as physically livid as I thought that he would be *it was just mom and grand-mom that heckled and made enough fuss*, but dad was pragmatic in his negotiations and I believe that I paid for those magazines with extra portions of chores till the day he handed me over to my husband in great relief.
Needless to say, I must have contributed a generous portion of mischief that expressly propagated the grey hairs on my parent’s heads.
© Jacqueline Oby-Ikocha

https://acookingpotandtwistedtales.com/

Wee, Wee, Wee. All the Way to Grandma’s House

Train ride 2

Reprinting a story I love in honor of Tell a Story Day

Illustration by Kathleen Holdaway Swain

Train ride 2Going to Grandma’s was the biggest thrill imaginable!!! After days of anticipation, Mother woke us long before dawn on the big day. Our bags were in the car and off we went. It was still dark at the depot as Daddy got our tickets and our bags out of the car. Mother hustled us to the bathroom one last time while Daddy was still there to help with the baby. Barely containing my joy during the pre-trip behavior threat, I patiently tried to look like as though I was listening. I didn’t know Daddy knew anybody at the depot, so was surprised when called out, “Porter, Porter!” A nice man came to help with our suitcases and lunch hamper. Daddy gave him some money and asked him to “take good care of us.” I wanted some money, but Mother shushed me.

Daddy kissed us all goodbye. Loaded with baggage, Mr. Porter led the way. Mother struggled down the aisle with baby Billy. A tiny woman, Billy stretched almost to her knees. We trailed behind, Phyllis carrying Mother’s purse and overstuffed diaper bag. I was trusted with a big bag loaded with blankets, books, toys, and other necessities. We bumped sleeping passengers making our way down the aisle as far away from the other passengers as possible. Mr. Porter flipped the seat back so we could all sit facing each other. Mother was exhausted and hoped we’d all go back to sleep. Ha! I was wild with excitement!

Finally, the train moved, wheels ka-whumping as we picked up speed. We looked out the window at the cows, fields, and the backs of houses and barns. As the sun came up we saw farmers on their tractors and waved at kids in their backyards. Pretty soon, we realized we hadn’t had breakfast and Mother pulled boiled eggs and ham biscuits out of the lunch hamper. Sharing a cup of milk from a thermos, Phyllis drank first, saying she didn’t want my crumbs in her milk. Mother wiped our faces with a damp washcloth pulled out of her bag. Mother had a blanket for Phyllis and me to share, a bottle and blanket for the baby, and big hopes that we’d all go to sleep.

Three of them did. I was wide awake. More fields, more of the back of towns, nothing to do. Passengers starting moving back and forth down the aisle. What were they doing? Reluctantly, Mother told me they were going to the bathroom. Bathroom? Trains had bathrooms? I had to go to the bathroom!

“I gotta go! I gotta go! I’m gonna wet my pants.” Mother looked pained.

“You just went. The baby is asleep. You have to wait.”

Mother, Phyllis and the baby slept. I looked out the window; more farms, cows and tractors, more back sides of town. She shoved my Night Before Christmas book at me, telling me to read it. I already had it memorized, was surprised once again to find the last page ripped in half. I was mad!

“Mother, I don’t like this book any more. The last page is gone!” She didn’t even wake up. “Mooooother!”

She opened her eyes and gave me a hard look, hissing like a snake. “Don’t make me come over there. The baby’s asleep.” Making Mother come over there was never a good idea. “Shut your eyes right now and go to sleep. I’d better not see a wiggle out of you!” (between clamped teeth). I could tell she meant it. I gave up and shut my eyes, but made up my mind not to go to sleep.

It was strange waking up on the train. Phyllis was leaned against the window, drool running down her chin. The baby slept snuggled up to Mother. Her head was back, eyes shut. I knew better than to wake her up, knowing she might still still be mean. I tore a tiny piece of paper from the last page of my book, leaned forward and tickled the baby’s face just a little. He moved and settled back down. I tickled again, careful not to wake Mother or Phyllis. He woke up, smiled at me and started moving around, wiggling and reaching for the paper scrap. I held it almost close enough for him to grab, pulling it back as he grabbed, over and over. He laughed out loud. His wiggling and laughing woke Mother. She was in a better mood after her nap.

By now, I really did have to go to the bathroom. I held on to seatbacks as I walked on the rocking train. People smiled and nodded as we passed. They thought we were “so cute” and “so sweet”. They were really nice. Mother and I went in first while Phyllis sat near the bathroom holding the baby. The cute bathroom funny little toilet and sink. After I finished, Mother pressed a little button and a door opened in the bottom of the potty. The wee wee splashed straight down on the track! It was hilarious. I could see the track as the train moved. Then I washed my hands and held Mother’s purse. I wanted to stay longer and explore but we had to let Phyllis have her turn. Mother whispered and told Phyllis how everything worked while she went in alone. No fair! She was out in just a minute. Bathroom break was over, so back to our seats.

Mother read us a new story book while the baby played beside her on the seat. It was a really good story about flying horses and fairies. Phyllis was in the second grade, the best reader in the class. When Mother got tired, Phyllis read to me while Mother played with the baby. This train ride was going great. Mr. Porter came through again selling magazines, papers, snacks, and drinks. Mother asked if she would be able to get fresh milk in her thermos later for the baby’s bottle. Mr. Porter said, “Yes, Ma’am. Easier now than later”. He took the milk thermos and brought it back full. He refused her money, “Already taken care of.” Mother wouldn’t let me get a snack or drink from Mr. Porter. No fair. What made that stupid baby so special?

I turned and looked out the window. More trees, backs of town, cows, and kids playing in back yards. I wished I could play with them instead of being stuck on this boring train. Phyllis finished the story. She pulled a box of paper-dolls out of the big bag. She was an excellent cutter and her paper-doll clothes still had all their tabs. I wanted to play but she was still mad because I cut tabs off last time. She was not good at sharing. Mother gave me a ‘barrel of monkeys’ toy. The baby liked them too. He laughed and grabbed at them when I danced them in front of him. We played till Mr. Porter came through selling sandwiches and drinks.“The diamond car is open for lunch.”

“Oh goody! Time to go to lunch!” I jumped up. Mother caught my arm and whispered, “No, it’s too expensive. We brought our lunch.”

“But I wanna go to the diamond car.” I whined. Mother didn’t allow whining.

“It’s not the diamond car. It’s the dining car. Now, stop that whining! We don’t have the money to eat in the dining car. I made us a very nice picnic lunch.” I could tell she meant it about the whining. Lunch was cold, fried chicken, cold ham biscuits, more boiled eggs, and apples. After lunch, we had milk from the thermos and washed our faces with the same damp washrag. The good news was, we could go to the bathroom again. Mother and I went first. I saw the train track again. Mother let me sit with a friendly grandma lady while she went in.

I told her we were going to Grandma’s…Daddy left us in the dark…that we didn’t have money to buy food…Mr. Porter gave Mother milk for the baby’s bottle…not enough rags for everybody. She looked sad. She dug in her purse and pulled out some money, patted my hand, and said. “This is for your poor, poor mother.” She really liked me!

While Phyllis went to the bathroom, I told Mother about the nice lady who gave me money for my poor, poor mother, “What did you tell her?” she hissed. (Mother hissed a lot.) I told her about going to Grandma’s…Daddy left us in the dark…not enough rags for everybody…Mr. Porter had to give her milk for the baby…not enough money for food. Mother’s face turned red. She left the baby with Phyllis, told me to stay put, took the money and went to talk to the nice lady. She was gone for a few minutes and came back without the money. Boy, was she mad! “I’ve told you not to tell everything you know. I’ve never been so embarrassed in my life!” I tried to explain that I didn’t tell everything I knew, but she just shushed me.

“You shut your eyes, sit still, and don’t you say a word to anybody till I tell you.”

Time drags when you can’t talk. My feelings were hurt. I got the blanket and acted like I was asleep. Ka-whump, ka-whump, ka-whump. The sun was warm on my face. Maybe I had a fever. I imagined how sorry Mother would when I got sick and couldn’t even tell her. The ambulance would take me away and they would never see me again…She and Phyllis would cry and cry, but it would be too late. I would go to the hospital where the nurses loved me so much they let me to stay forever. The story went on and on. I never did get to the end. I woke up and my mouth was dry. Mother and the baby were asleep. Phyllis was reading a book. I wanted to go to the bathroom, but couldn’t ask without talking. Phyllis saw me looking around and told me “Mother said, ‘be still and you better not wake the baby. He just went to sleep’.” She dug a new book out of the bag and read to me for a long time. She could be nice, sometimes.

Mother woke up just before I thought I would pop. Phyllis and the baby were both asleep. “Mother, I gotta go! I gotta go!”

“You went just before lunch. You don’t need to go yet. If I get up now I’ll wake the baby. He’ll cry and disturb everyone. You’ll have to wait a while.” I waited. I waited some more.

“I’ve really, really gotta go! Let me go by myself. I’m a big girl. I know what to do. You showed me how to flush and wash my hands. Puh…lease. Puh…lease. You let Phyllis go.”

Mother thought. Finally, she gave in. “Okay, but I can see you every step. Go straight there and back. Don’t play in the bathroom. Do your business, wash with soap and dry your hands, and come straight back. Don’t you dare talk to anybody!” I got sick of all her silly instructions. I went by myself. Everything went fine. The friendly grandma lady looked away when I went by. That was rude. She’d liked me before.

The train ride stayed the same for a long time. I went to the bathroom again. No problem. We had fried chicken, no more boiled eggs, fruit, biscuits, and more milk. It was nice not having vegetables. We had been on the train all day and still weren’t there. Phyllis read me another story and we played Old Maids. I was sick of the train. Phyllis showed me how to do tricks with string. It was hard. I’d be glad to be big like Phyllis so I could do things. Soon after dark, Mother said it was time to go to sleep. She would wake us when the train got to Grandma’s town. Where would we sleep? I didn’t see any beds. Mother spread our blanket on the seat making a bed for Phyllis and me and one for the baby on their seat. Mother was going to sleep sitting up! We were set, except for one more trip to the bathroom. Phyllis was putting things away and helping Mother get the baby ready for bed, so I went first. Finally, Mother had enough sense to know I was old enough to go the bathroom alone, and didn’t aggravate me with a list of instructions.

I was steady on the moving train now, so I ran, crashing into the bathroom door with both hands. Faaalaap!! Pow!! Pow!! It seemed like time stopped as the door bowed in the middle, finally turning loose at both ends and exploding inward. Sleeping passengers screamed and jumped up, nowhere to run. Men cursed. I couldn’t use a bathroom like that so I went back to the seat. The grandma lady gave me a horrible look. Passengers glared at me from every seat I passed on the long walk back to Mother.

I skulked to my seat, shrinking down as small as possible, not daring a look at Mother or Phyllis. For once, nobody said a word. I couldn’t even imagine a punishment bad enough for tearing up a train. Would I go to jail? Finally, I sneaked a peak at Phyllis. She was fascinated by The Night Before Christmas and didn’t even look up. Mother had her eyes squinched shut and was rocking the baby like she hadn’t heard a thing. I sat down, shut my eyes and pretended to sleep. I didn’t use the bathroom for the rest of the trip. Neither did anyone else!

Red Wagon War

image

Mother and I went to one of our favorite stores the other day, Goodwill. I headed straight for the back to see if I could find a nice piece of cast-iron cookware. I am always on the lookout for cast-iron. En route, I stumbled up on this miracle. They were pulling a red wagon out to the floor. I grabbed it and headed for the front without even checking the price. It was a bargain, no matter what. I ran over a nice middle-aged gentleman on my way up.

“Oh, did you find that here?”

“Yes, I am so thrilled. I’m not even going to shop any more. I’m just going to take it and run.”

“How much was it?”

“I don’t know. I was so excited I forgot to look. Let’s see. Ten dollars! What a deal!” I was dancing a jig for sure,now.

Just about that time Mother walked up. “Oh, you found a red wagon! Did they have any more? I’ve been looking all over for one!”

“I know! When I saw this one I grabbed it!”

Clearly the man thought everything had its price. “My mother has been wanting one forever. Would you let me have it for forty dollars?” Mother looked at him with blood in her eye. She had her eye on that wagon.

“No Sir, If I’m not going to give it to my mother, I’d better not give it to yours.”

Doesn’t she look good pulling it around in my back yard?

Miss Laura Mae’s House Part 10

vintage-mother-daughter-dresse-6196-7163-1435636454
One of my favorite eavesdropping episodes was about a friend of Miss Laura Mae’s whose husband was in prison and daughter in the orphanage.

“I got a letter from my friend Alice Marshall today. Her husband has been out of jail a long time now and her daughter Helen just had her fifth. Just look at this picture she sent me of Helen’s family. She is so proud.” she said, passing a picture to Mother.

I wanted to see that picture so badly I forgot I wasn’t supposed to be listening in. “Let me see! Let me see!” A daddy, a mother holding a baby, three little girls, and a small boy stood in front of a car. The woman and little girls had on matching dresses. The man and boy looked neat in dark pants and plaid shirts. “Their dresses are all alike! How did they get dresses alike?” I had to know.

“Helen can sew real good. She makes everything her and the girls wear. Ain’t that something?”

I had to agree. “Mother, can you make dresses alike for me and you and Phyllis?” It seemed like a small thing to me.

“I don’t know,” Mother said. “That would cost a lot of money. I don’t have patterns for matching dresses, and I sure don’t have that much material.”

“Please, Mother. Please……….” The whining did it.

“Stop that whining! Go play in the yard. You’re not supposed to be in here listening to grown people talking, anyway.”

I gave up and sat on the back step, feeling sorry for myself as Miss Laura Mae went on with her story. “I know Alice couldn’t see nothing but hard times when Martin got sent to prison. It was back in The Depression. He stole a hog ‘cause they was hungry an’ got five years in Angola. Alice moved back in with her mama in Baton Rouge, but it wasn’t long before her mama died leavin’ her nowhere to go. She got a job in a hotel restaurant washing dishes and got a meal with her shift. She rented a room in a boardin’ house, but didn’t make enough to feed Helen. She had to put the poor little thing in a church home. Poor child had to stay there four years. Alice went to see her ever’ Sunday, and kept tellin’ her they was all gonna be together agin. I didn’t see how they ever would, but Martin finally got out of jail. He was able to git a job at a sawmill and after a month or so, they got enough together to git a place an’ get Helen home. You never saw anybody so proud as Alice an’ Martin. I was real proud for ‘em. They had a couple of boys after than an’ done real good, but Alice always felt bad for puttin’ Helen in that home, but pore thing, she couldn’t even feed herself. Don’t you know Martin felt awful fer puttin’ ‘em both in that spot. He was a good man and never did git in no more trouble. I don’t believe he ever would’a stole that hog if he had’na been tryin’ to feed his family, anyhow. Them was some hard times, real hard times.”

https://atomic-temporary-73629786.wpcomstaging.com/2016/04/28/miss-laura-maes-house-part-11/
https://atomic-temporary-73629786.wpcomstaging.com/2016/04/28/update-to-miss-laura-maes-house-part-11/