Update on Mother

If you’ve followed me for a while, you may remember frequent posts about my mother. At ninety- four, she lives independently, manages her life and business, and still gardens. I see her several times a week and do her heavy lifting. She rotates her housekeeping on on a daily schedule, so her house is clean as a pin. Her neighbors call in for coffee, so she’s very social. The best of all is her good nature. Every morning when I call, she says, “I feel so good.”

Bad, Good,better

The day after his wife disappeared in a kayaking accident, an Alaskan man answered his door to find two long-faced Alaska State Troopers.

“We’re sorry Mr.Jones, but we have some information about your wife,” said one trooper.

“Tell me! Tell me! Did you find her?” Jones shouted.

The troopers looked at each other. One said, “We have some bad news, some good news, and some really great news. Which do you want to hear first?”

Dreading what was coming, an anxious Mr.Jones said, “Give me the bad news first.”

The trooper said, “I’m sorry to tell you, sir, but this morning we found your wife’s body in the Bay.”

“Oh my God!” exclaimed Jones. Stammering, he asked, “what’s the good news?”

The trooper continued, “When we pulled her up, she had 12 twenty-five pound king crabs and 6 good-size Dungeness crabs clinging to her. In all fairness, you are entitled to a share in the catch.”

Outraged, Mr. Jones demanded, “If that’s the good news, what’s the great news?”

The trooper said, “We’re going to pull her up again tomorrow.”

Photo by Summer Li on Pexels.com

My Favorite Joke

The crowds had been packing the traveling “tent revival” every night that week, grateful offerings filling the pockets of the evangelist. Cure after cure was enacted in the sweltering heat of those July evenings. Emotions were at an all time high on the last night as the last two afflicted souls reached the evangelist at the front of the tent..

Struggling up the steps on her crutches poor Mrs. Smith hobbled up to the evangelist. “Heal me! I haven’t been able to walk without crutches in twenty years.”

“Yes, Sister! You will be healed! Go behind the screen and wait with the others sinners. I’ll get to you all at one time.

Johnny Jones was the last in line. “I have a lifth. It hath made my life awful. Pleath heal me of my lifth!”

“Yes, Brother!  You will be healed!  Go behind the curtain with all the others and you will all be healed at once.”

The evangelist offered up a long, heartfelt prayer for healing.  Weeping could be heard all over the tent.  Finally, he concluded, calling out dramatically.  “Mrs. Smith, you haven’t been able to walk without crutches for twenty years, have you?”

“No, Lord!” she replied from behind the curtain.

“You are healed! Throw your right crutch over the curtain.” Her right crutch clattered over the curtain. “Now throw your left crutch over the curtain.” The left crutch followed.

Thunderous “Amens!” echoed all over the tent.

“Johnny Jones, you are healed of your lisp.  Call out to us in a loud, clear voice so all can hear!” demanded the evangelist!

“Mithuth Thmith just fell on her ath!”

Know it All

A guy’s driving down an old country road sees a farmer, sweating in his orchard feeding hogs. The farmer struggles to pick up the hogs, one after the other, holding them up, letting them eat apples, setting him down before picking up the next hungry hog to eat apples. So the guy pulls over and walks up to the farmer and says, “Wouldn’t it save time to just knock all the apples on the ground and let the pigs eat them all at once?” And the farmer, confused, looks at him and says, “What’s time to a hog?” e out of the tree, and then setting him down before picking up another pig and letting him eat an apple. So the guy pulls over and walks up to the farmer and he says, “Wouldn’t it save time to just knock all the apples to the ground and let the hogs eat them that way?

“What’s time to a hog.”

No Fool Like……

Things didn’t go well from the start on Croc’s last visit to the vet. My half mastiff, half lab doggy boy weighs one hundred twenty-five pounds and pulls like a tractor. Desperate to sniff a steaming pile of poop, he snatched me down the instant I stepped out of the truck. I sprawled elegantly across the pavement, knocking my nose on the curb. I’d foolishly worn a skirt, so passersby were treated the view of my new undies as I struggled to grab the leash and avoid a greater disaster. Fortunately, Croc was fascinated by a steaming pile of dog poop and hadn’t escaped into traffic. He pondered sampling it as I struggled to my feet, felt around to find my glasses in another mess, and staunched the flow of blood from my damaged knees. He showed no sympathy for me as we made our way in, choosing instead to attempt a friendship with a five pound Yorkie. The tiny beast and her dainty mom were traumatized at the slobbering beast dragging me toward them. My muddied, bloodied countenance did little to reassure the duo, despite my assertion he only wanted to play. Happily, the teeny dog was the original mean girl. She tore into Croc, teaching him a lot about little, mean dogs. The staff got us in a room straight away. No waiting!

Four hundred and fifty dollars later found us checking out. By now Croc was happily munching his cookie. Once again, I was sobered at the cost of well-dog care, despite having experienced it only six months before. Incidentally, I had another dog at home scheduled for a pricey visit the very next day. I definitely can’t handle both at once. I’d made that mistake once, a sad story for another day.

Mean Doggy and her mom stood between my behemoth and the exit. Meany snarled maniacally at us, terrifying Croc. I enjoyed that. Momma was crying to the staff, “Can you find a home for her. I’m sick and I can’t take care of her no more.” She sobbed piteously. It was heartbreaking so I hurried out. After I got Croc, also known as Meatball, in the truck, I called Bud.

“Can we adopt a Yorkie? A sick, old lady has to get rid of her.” I went back for the poor dog. Miss Ann, her mama was delighted she’d found a sucker and pulled out her tattered checkbook to pay for Meany’s visit.

On learning her bill was ninety dollars, Mama paled. “Can you hold this check till next Tuesday?”

“I’ll get it. She’s my responsibility now.” Miss Ann took my number. True to her promise, she visits Biscuit, the little Yorkie, pretty often. She’s even taken Biscuit home for a visit a couple of times. Biscuit always seems to enjoy their visits, but doesn’t mourn for her.

More to come.

Hello

I’ve neglected Nutsrok and my WordPress friends since October 2020. Just trying to get back in. Wish me luck!

If we don’t know our history, we are destined to repeat it

I read this week from an UPI article that 60% of millennials and Gen-Zers are unaware that 6 million Jews were exterminated in the Holocaust by the …

If we don’t know our history, we are destined to repeat it

Grandma and Minnie

Grandma and Grandpa lived next to Minnie and Amalie in Austin, Texas.  Minnie and Amalie had immigrated from Mexico fairly recently and spoke very little English, but that didn’t hamper their friendship.  Grandma and Minnie had coffee every morning, chatting over recipes, patterns, housework, and their shared garden plot..  It didn’t matter that Grandma spoke not a word of Spanish and Minnie knew little English.  They’d check out each other’s tomatoes, peppers, and flowers, chattering like nobody’s business. Though I was a small child when we visited there, I remember fondly that Minnie trusted me push her pretty, black-eyed baby around the yard in her stroller.I was so proud to be a big girl.

Sometimes I followeed Grandpa and Amalie  around as they smoked hand-rollled cigarettes and worked at some project in the yard or dug in the garden.  One day they made me a chair by nailing two apple crates end-to-end.  I sat in that chair as long as I could squeeze into it.  I learned my first Spanish when Amalie hammered his finger and cursed in Spanish.  Though I didn’t know Spanish, cursing in any language is cursing. I admired cursing and was always on the  alert for a tasty tidbit, since I didn’t get to hear it at home.

I was intrigued at hearing Minnie and Amalie talk, my introduction to a foreign language.  I’d jabber along, thinking, I was speaking Spanish, stopping periodically to ask Grandma or Minnie to interpret what I’d said for me.I wish we all got on with our neighbors so well.  We shared a lovely meal of Grandma’s greens, pork chops and cornbread and Minnes’s tamales and beans one special evening.  I didn’t care much for the greens, but I’ll never forget the bite of Minnie’s spicy tortillas.

That Explains It!

Suzy went to her plastic surgeon.  “You’ve got to do something about these wrinkles under my eyes.  They look just awful!”

“Sure, I can fix you right up!” said Dr. Jones.  “I’ll put this little knob on top of your head. Give it a little twist, and Voila!!  The wrinkles are gone!  Come back if you have any trouble”

Sure enough, it worked like magic.  Suzy was thrilled!  She was a new woman!  She looked like she was eighteen again!  Every time her face drooped a little, she gave the knob a little twist.

Five years later, Suzy came back to see Dr. Jones.  “You fixed me up a while back with this little knob to tighten up my wrinkles.  It worked great for a long time, but it’s stripped out now and I’ve got these big bags under my eyes.  What can you do about them?”

“Those aren’t bags!  Those are your breasts!  I told you to come back if you had any trouble!”

“Oh, then that explains the goatee!”