Ask Auntie Linda, November 18, 2015

Auntie LindaDear Auntie Linda,  There is no solution for this problem since the die is cast, but I need to vent.  My in-laws have always been very distant and made it clear they don’t care for some of their children or grandchildren.  Before his death, my father-in-law Bob and mother-in-law Louise established a trust for the division of their property.  Louise  encourages her son Bob to disown two of his daughters.  She has told me and Moe she doesn’t want one of our daughters around.  Bob’s wife has been going through Louise’s house for years, accusing the rest of taking valuable antiques.  Believe me, Louise wouldn’t let anybody get away with anything.  We live next door to Louise.  Moe and I take her to church, the grocery store, to the doctor, and everywhere else she goes unless, one of my daughter’s gives us a break.  Moe goes down every morning to cook her breakfast and give her insulin shot.  Last year, when he worked her cattle and sold them for her, she said she’d divide the proceeds between him and one other brother, who didn’t help at all.  It never happened.  Louise is a miserable, divisive person.  She uses us all to her advantage.  She is hinting that everything to my ten-year-grandson, who says he wants to be a farmer, cutting out two children and seven children.  I do hope she makes some effort at fairness, since she has spent her whole manipulating and destroying relationships. Disgusted Daugher-in-Law

Dear Disgusted, Don’t hold your breath.  People are likely to want to hold as much power as long as possible.  She will be able to punish and control as long as her children live depending on how she divides her property.  That is a lot of power.  Auntie Linda

 

Dear Auntie Linda, I am sixty-four years old. My in-laws have always been a thorn in my side.  I have spent endless days babysitting when my sisters-in-law were sick, had abandoned their families, or just had better things to do. (My husband’s offer, not mine)  His brothers or cousins moved in with us when they fell upon hard times.  My husband often loaned money without consulting me, causing our family to do without.   After my husband died ten years ago, I didn’t bother to keep us with his family, though I have turned down a few requests for loans.  My adult son is obsessed with his father’s memory and family, calling me frequently to update me on their family news and encouraging me to rekindle family relationships, even though he frequently can’t make it to gatherings for our side of the family.  Recently, a sister-in-law invited me to her birthday party, which I attended.  When I told my forty-two year-old-son I was going, he cried, saying he was so happy “the family was getting back together.”  Why on earth would a forty-two-year old man be obsessed with cousins and aunts, while showing little interest in his mother, sisters, and his own children?  Puzzled Mother

Dear Puzzled,  I think you just answered it.  He prefers that side of the family, since he misses his father.  It is likely the conversation focuses on experiences he enjoyed and talk of his father and good times they experienced. It is not likely he was impacted by the impositions you experienced.  Likely, he had a great time if extra kids were in the house.  Auntie Linda

here piggy piggy (tuesday trivia)

Valuable information from The Shameful Sheep.

Blair (The Shameful Sheep)'s avatarThe Shameful Sheep

Fun Fact: A pig’s orgasm can last up to 30 minutes.

Am I the only one that’s pissed about this? This seems pretty unfair. What the hell, God? Is this the price we are paying for eating pigs? If we give up bacon, can we have one last for 30 minutes too? pigmask

As I was searching for pig pictures, I came across Esther The Wonder Pig. Have any of y’all heard of her? She was supposedly a “mini-pig” but turned out to be massive. I wonder if you can house-train pigs. Holy shit, she is cute. I want a pig roaming around my house, as long as they aren’t leaving massive poops on my kitchen floor. I’ve been obsessing all morning looking at her Instagram photos. Go look.

esther

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Afternoon Funny

Valentines Day in the Animal Kingdom

Valentines Day in the Animal Kingdom

funny 2funny 3funny 4funny 5funny 6funny 7funny 9funny 9funny8funny 11Q: What do you get from sitting on the ice too long?
A: Polaroids!

Q: What’s an ig?
A: A snow house without a loo!

Q: Why does it take longer to build a blonde snowman than a regular one?
A: You have to hollow out the head.

Q: Why did Frosty the snowman want a divorce?
A: Because he thought his wife was a flake

Joke of the Day

Turkey 10turkey 9

Turkey Day: 'I wanna leg!' 'I want dressing!' 'I want the light meat!'

Turkey Day: ‘I wanna leg!’ ‘I want dressing!’ ‘I want the light meat!’

Turkey 7turkey 6turkey 5Turkey 4turkey 3turkey 2turkey

 

What did the mama turkey say to her naughty son?
If your papa could see you now, he’d turn over in his gravy!

Asked to write a composition entitled, “What I’m thankful for on Thanksgiving,”
little Timothy wrote, “I am thankful that I’m not a turkey.”

 

  • The Constitution only guarantees the American people the right to pursue happiness. You have to catch it yourself. Benjamin Franklin
  • The Pilgrims made seven times more graves than huts. No Americans have been more impoverished than these who, nevertheless, set aside a day of thanksgiving.  H.U. Westermayer
  • There are only two ways to live your life.  One is as though nothing is a miracle.  The other is as if everything is. Albert Einstein
  • You can only govern men by serving them. The rule is without exception. Victor Kiam
  • I don’t have a solution, but I certainly admire the problem.  Ashleigh Brilliant
  • There are three faithful friends, an old wife, an old dog, and ready money. Benjaminn Franklin
  • Those who can laugh without cause have either found the true meaning of happiness or have gone stark raving mad. Norm Papernick

Terrible Tom, He Axed for It

Reblogged an old post in honor of Thanksgiving. Hope you enjoy .  Original art by my mother, Kathleen Swain.

lbeth1950's avatarNutsrok

Evil turkey Evil turkey

Awfuls chasing turey Awfuls chasing turey

We went places and saw people that normal people would never encounter, nor care to. Daddy had heard of somebody living back in the woods about four miles off Tobacco Road who had something he might be interested in buying. He had to check it out, driving forever down muddy roads petering out into nothing. Finally we got back to Mr. Tucker’s

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Common Sense and the Camper

CamperDaddy had come into some money, so he immediately set to thinking what he had to spend it on.  That was the way he thought.  If you had money, you had to buy something.  He finally settled on three things:  a big Ford Truck, the biggest cab-over camper it could carry and a fine Ford tractor.  The total of these items was three times his windfall, but that was the way he did things. Angered at the amount he’d spent, Mother ordered six pair of slacks and matching blouses from Montgomery-Ward.  He raged at her extravagance.   That was also the way they did things.

Anyway, back to the truck and camper.  They set off on the typical American road trip.  Daddy quickly found the big camper, though rated for that truck, was really too big and made the truck hard to handle.  Even passing eighteen wheelers buffeted it about on the interstate.  Imagine the challenge it presented on narrow mountain passes.  Once, when they decided to go to Pike’s Peak, he unloaded it and left it in the RV camp, not wanting to deal with the excitement.

After they’d been travelling long enough that the refuse tank on the camper had reached near capacity, he pulled up to a dumping station in a national park to empty it.  Never one to read directions, he knew he could figure out how it worked on his own, relying on his “common sense.”

He flipped a switch, and “Voila!”  The tank emptied on the pad at the dumping station, its contents, solid and liquid, streamed across the busy road.  Mother puttered nearby and noticed what he’d done, but didn’t get the big picture.  “Why did you dump it here?  Is it supposed to go here?”

Meanwhile, passing cars zipped through the refuse, flinging tissue and other unpleasant souvenirs up to await the nearest carwash!  Daddy was in a panic, trying to get Mother to hush and get in the truck so they could flee the scene before his ghastly error was caught by a ranger.  Mother nattered on, trying to figure out why he’d dumped the tank there, until she realized he was about to leave without her.  All’s well that ends well.  They managed to get away Scott-free as Mother dug out the instruction book and Daddy fumed.

 

 

Gallery

E vening Chuckle

Ask Auntie Linda, November17, 2015

Auntie Linda

Dear Auntie Linda, I have visited Great-Aunt Virgie every summer since I was a child.  She still lives alone in the little mountain valley cabin where she raised her family.  The cabin needs a lot of work or it will fall down soon.  She is now eighty-six.  Summer before last, we noticed she was slipping a little and called us by the wrong names a lot.  Our last visit was very worrisome, though she never left her stove on or appeared to get lost.  She is getting paranoid, thinking her neighbor of forty years is trying to steal her tobacco lease and did try to cook some sausage that was off.  When we went upstairs to go to bed, mice had gotten into the upstairs bedrooms and the beds were covered in rat pellets.  A window had fallen out and the rugs had molded.  My husband repaired the window, leaky toilet, porch steps, put a new gas line on her stove.  Hers was leaking and she was turning it off at the wall every time she got through cooking.   We cleaned the house from end to end, outfitting the all the beds in fresh bedding.  She wouldn’t let us throw the moldy rugs, so we took them out, beat them, and sprayed with disinfectant.  My husband did some much needed plumbing repairs in the kitchen.  We worked non-stop for two weeks.

We talked to my cousin.  He has since taken her to live with him and his wife.  Great-Aunt Virgie wrote us recently, letting us know Cousin Robert will bring her back home whenever we are ready to visit.  We never intend to go back there after that last miserable trip.  We told her we’d get a room near Cousin Robert and visit, but she is insistent.  How do we handle this?  We don’t want to go to her house again.  It’s sure to be in worse shape if she’s been gone for months.  Reluctant Guest

Dear Reluctant, Talk to Cousin Robert.  Let him know you won’t make it to her cabin this summer, but would like to get a room and visit her there in his town.  Once you’ve made sure he knows the plan, you can write and let her know you can only stay a couple of days and will take a room near them.  Don’t let Cousin Robert mess you up.  He might want you to do more repairs.  Auntie Linda

 

Dear Auntie Linda,  I moved in with a friend while I was still in high school.  My mother is toxic and my father has a serious brain-injury.  I moved out because his behavior was inappropriate.  He had no sexual-inhibitions and grabs any girl or woman within reach.  He said whatever crossed his mind.  Even though he was a wonderful father before his accident, that man is gone.  Life with him was way too stressful.  I had to leave to save my sanity.  My wedding is coming up soon.  I want a story-book wedding.  My mother wants to reconcile.  I don’t want her or my father anywhere near me.  My mother is threatening to show up with my father, saying it is her right as a mother.  I haven’t seen her or my father in six years, though my cousins say nothing has changed.  My mother is still horrible, behaving like a total witch when she is crossed and my father is no better than when I fled home.  My life has been so much better without any contact.  I can’t go back into that hell and don’t want my wedding ruined.  Am I horrible to be planning to leave them out.  What do I do?  Orphan By Choice

Dear Orphan,  If you fear your mother will intrude bringing your father, maybe you should consider having a destination wedding with only a few guests you can trust not to break your confidence.  No one has to know your plans.  People do that all the time.  Auntie Linda

 

 

Afternoon Funny

Mike the Headless Chicken (Rooster)

May 11 – FRUITA – While most communities observe Colorado Heritage Week with events dedicated to pioneers, the town of Fruita has decided to celebrate with something that only the Western Slope town can crow about. Rupert PumpkinMike the Headless Chicken Day on Sunday will honor a 1940s rooster who for 4 1/2 years strutted around, fattened up on grain and preened for hens – all without a head.

Mike lost his head in 1945 when a Fruita farmer, anticipating a chicken dinner, lopped off the head of a young Wyandotte rooster. Instead of croaking and getting sent to the cooking pot, Mike the rooster wobbled away from the chopping block and resumed his temporarily interrupted barnyard activities with the rest of the heads-on chickens.

His headless life garnered him spreads in Life and Time magazines and a listing in the Guinness Book of Records. He had his own manager and toured the country in sideshows with a two-headed calf. He was studied by scientists, who determined an intact brain stem was keeping Mike going.

Mike’s fame faded out after he finally died from choking on a corn kernel, but now headless Mike is in for a revival of sorts.

Mike the Headless Chicken Day will feature a 5K Run Like a Headless Chicken race, egg tosses, chicken jokes, a chicken lunch and chicken bingo, in which numbers are chosen by where chicken droppings fall on a numbered grid. There will also be music, microbrew competitions and historic tours of the town.

“To celebrate our history in Fruita, we wanted to have something light-hearted,” said Sally Edington, executive director of the Fruita Chamber of Commerce. “We wanted to celebrate this little guy because he was very determined to live. We like that.”

According to old accounts in the Fruita Times newspaper, Mike’s determination first showed itself Sept. 10, 1945, when farmer L.A. Olsen tried to please his mother-in-law while he was slaughtering dinner. Her favorite fried-chicken piece was the neck, so Olsen carefully placed his ax to leave as much neck as possible on Mike’s body.

Chickens have been known to flutter around for seconds or minutes after being decapitated, but after a few shaky steps, Mike fluffed up his feathers and went about his business in the barnyard with the other, heads on chickens. He went through the motions of pecking for food, preening his feathers and tucking what used to be his head under his wing when he slept. He tried to crow, but only a gurgle came out.

When he was still alive the following morning, Olsen decided he might be more valuable as an oddity than a dinner and started dropping grain and water into his gullet opening with an eyedropper.

When Mike was still alive a week later, Olsen packed him up and took him to Salt Lake City so incredulous University of Utah scientists could study him. From that time on, Olsen and a manager he hired were the ones running around like chickens with their heads cut off. They took Mike and Mike’s head, which Olsen had preserved in alcohol, to Los Angeles, San Diego, Atlantic City and New York City. They set up photo shoots with magazines and newspapers and kibitzed with scientists across the country.

Olsen also dealt with predecessors of animal-rights activists, who blasted him for leaving a chicken alive in such a state. They begged him to finish the hatchet job on the Mike. But Fruita old-timers remember that Mike grew and thrived and didn’t seem much bothered by being minus a head. Gayle Meyer, who interviewed Olsen in the 1980s before he died, said he described Mike as “a robust chicken – a fine specimen of a chicken except for not having a head.” Copyright 1999 The Denver Post.