I Now Speak Softly and Carry a Big Stick

I've always been so SOFT-spoken, (quit your snickering) so I am sure you haven't noticed anything different. But I had quite the calamity recently.

 

Is there anything worse than getting up and finding that your sweetheart has used your toothbrush? (It was wet, so I know it was you, Babe!) Yes, there is.

So I'm just a little irritated that my brush was already wet. Irritated or grossed out enough to not use it? Obviously not. I have a stash of new ones, but this one is pretty new, so I figured, we share the same germs, and toothpaste cleans, so what the heck. Don't be all "yuk"ing...you know you have done the same. 

My first squirt of toothpaste just slid right off the brush before I could give it a run through the water. 

"Dang it, Dicky!"

My second made it to the faucet, but was quickly washed off when I ran it under the water. 

 

"Ugh" He's gonna hear about this one!

The third actually made it through the water and to my mouth. 

"Ok, Babe...maybe you are off the hook....AAAAAKKKKKKKKK!!!....What did you put on my toothbrush!"

I spit and spit, and gagged. What the heck did he use my toothbrush for? 

Um...ok...oopsy. My bad. 

Lavendar and Honey are supposed to be good for you. And are maybe even edible. But are not...let me repeat...They are NOT...the best tasting ingredients for toothpaste when presented in Bath and Body Works Lotion. 

*****

There's just something a little sad,and a lot wrong, about an almost 50 year old with serious bright red, pucker and ducklip pictures on her Facebook page. One, maybe they're being silly. Two, ok, they just had try try again, for the sake of trying.  More than that? You don't know how old you are. And the prettier you are, the more sad it is. 

I guess since I'm not single, hot, pretty, thin, etc. maybe I don't understand. But I honestly think if I were any or all of those, I don't think I'd want to attract that kind of attention. You know, the "you are really, really pretty but look like a hooker" kind of attention. 

Or maybe not. I'm going on a diet next week, so I'll try it the next week,when I'm skinny, and let you know.
 

*****

Ok...here's another act your age... If you are over the age if 16, it issss notttt cuteeee to add extraaaa letterssss in your fb postsssss. It's ignernt! :)

******

3/21/15

Good grief! I can't believe spring break is over already! It's been a good one. 

Not much Spring cleaning done, which was probably my most pressing need. It was way too pretty. And also, I just didn't want to. 

We did a little yard work. Got a bit of a start on the yard. Hopefully we will have a decent yard this year. And we've got to get it spiffed up and ready for The Hag Wagon Soirée! 

Believe it or not, she's almost finished! Painted a few details on the outside. It doesn't feel quite finished, so expect a little more. 

Daddy and Dicky helped get the screen door rescreened. I may have to redo the window screens. My first attempt was a little messy. 

You can kind of see the old crusty screen door here. 

The banner isn't the neatest, but hey, it's done! I may go back and outline them to clean up the edges. 

What's left? Replacing the back window which was replaced with a piece of plywood at sometime. Redo a small countertop, and figure out what to do with the floor. I have some ideas. Any suggestions?  I think the furniture will be yellow, similar to the lounge chair.

When you see the Freak Flag waving in the wind over the fence, you will know it's done! (Mine is about worn out. LOL So I think a new one is about due.)

New Haggy cookie jar!

 

 

********

What's else did Spring Break 2015 bring? Well, let me just tell ya....

Ok not much. Nothing big anyway. But it was a good one! 

 

Dicky and daddy decided to cook at a competition in Wichita Falls. I was a little hesitant, because I was really looking forward to a whole week off with no obligations.  But after the last few weeks, I was really ready to get away! I think my padres were too!

 

Daddy won 9th in Brisket! Dicky won chicken and 3rd place ribs, reserve grand overall. He won the coolest little deck cooler, made by an 80 year old man that started the organization that this cook off benefitted. And while Dicky is excited about that...I think he was more excited that the judges had stashed their beer for the weekend in his cooler they let him keep it all.

 

 

We did spend some time at the casino. Lost some. Won back what we lost. Then lost it again before we walked out the door. Booo....but that's ok...we had fun.

 

I sat down next to a couple at a trio of machines Friday night. Just playing up a storm...not winning, however...and the lady next to me leans over and asks, "What do you think you are doing sitting there?" Before looking up, I thought, "Oh hell! Did she have money in here and I didn't notice it?"

 

So I look up, and to my surprise, it's my cousin Debbie! She lives in Snyder, but we (I'm ashamed to say) hardly ever see each other, 45 miles away. Last time I saw her, was one of my trips to the ICU at the Heart Hospital in Lubbock and we found each other as next door neighbors. I have to say this meeting was much more pleasant!

 

We are going to do better, Deb! I'll be calling you soon! (Been telling her sister, Dana, that for months now.) But I do have good intentions!

 

Between the cookoff and casino time, we got in some visiting with old friends and other cousins, Linda and Sam.

 

I suppose I'll sign off for now. My bootie is tired and needs LOTS of beauty sleep to be able to get up and back to the grind tomorrow.

 

A new twist to my blocks. A frame you can change pictures/quotes out of !

 Go do something crafty cool!

Toodle-ooooo!!

 

 

The Tale of the Mermaid and the Coon Dog

Do you ever have hair days so bad that you pray the wind will blow HARD, so everyone will have a bad hair day and no one will suspect it looked that way before you left the house?

No....um, ok. Me either.

Before you start rolling your eyes, and talking about how you can't believe I would post such a picture of myself...let me remind you...

DUCK LIPS ARE STILL NOT ATTACTIVE. 

Go fix your profile pic, then roll your eyes at me. I don't care...whack hair, don't care. Sticks and stones, all that jazz...

*****

2/20/15

Random thought as I sit in the waiting room, Dicky on the endoscopy table. I could freely pass gas in here and most people wouldn't say a word, because they've all been on the dulcolax mag citrate diet for the last 24 hours. Their noses are self-scalded and would never even smell me! 

 

*****

I didn't test previously mentioned theory, in case you are wondering.

*****

 3.3.15

 

So I have a question...and really want a serious answer. Why can some women be complete bitches, people still love them, and they can sleep at night? While I, on the other hand, embrace and let out the inner bitch, and I don't sleep, can't forget it and feel like a complete jerk.

 

That's just completely not fair.

 

The initial shock is over since losing my Pister,  I'm back at work, trying to get back in the groove and "life goes on" and all that jazz. But I feel like such a sour puss!! Someone asked me today how I'm doing...my reply, "Just peachy." "Actually more persimmony, but fruity just the same."

 

I've picked at least three fights in the last 24 hours.  Actually had a fourth that wanted to argue and I didn't give in. (Yay me. Whatever.) I picked them...I could have just kept my big old mouth (or typing and writing hands, rather) shut. I probably should have. But some people just have it coming!

 

The pettiest of which, but the incident that makes me maddest...someone stole the candy from my mother's birthday card. A stinking candy bar! I've never been in an actual physical fight (except that one time in Jr High with Derek Dunn! LOL I'll tell you another time). But if I could find out who did it, I think I could really do some damage to those teeth that I hope rot out.

 

See...now wasn't that a horrible thing to say?

 

If it didn't prove my point exactly, I'd delete it now.

Now, I can't get it or the other mads out of my mind. Why did I feel the need to be ugly? And why do some of you get to be total bitches whenever you want, and I can't.

 

I hope that doesn't offend you whom the shoe fits. :) It wouldn't me. I'm actually jealous.

 

But since this being a hag business isn't working out quite like I've intended, I'm going to try to make a better effort to keep my opinions to myself.

 

And quit cussing. I've really, really said a lot of cuss words the last week. Just like this post...how many times have I said "bitch".

 

Bitch. Bitch. Bitch...there...now that's three more added to that number.

 

Bitch. Bitch. Let's make it an even five.

And you know wha t? She's a TOTAL bitch and I don't even like her!
 

You know what I want to be? You know, since the bitch thing isn't working out. 

 

A mermaid.

 

Mermaids get to swim around in the quiet water all day. They always have pretty hair, and have those crazy cool tails. They get to be friends with the Octopus, which would be totally cool. Because next to a mermaid, I think an Octopus would be an awesome thing to be. (You know the sucker hands and all...not to mention they have eight of them and I could do some major crafting with eight arms.)

 

You know what else? Mermaids don't have to wear a bra. They just go all free flowing all day and no one even mentions it! And they are not fat. Have you ever seen a fat mermaid? I mean an actual mermaid that was fat. Not just a fake picture that you find on the internet. (Mermaids ARE real you know. Just ask Kerry Dixon. Pattie, if you are reading this...please ask him to chime in with his expertise anytime.)

 

And best of all...they are nice!

 

I know that because look at them. They just look kind. So serene and peaceful. You can't float around in the water all day and be in a bad mood. That would make you a crab. Have you ever seen how a crab walks? Crabby, that's how. A mermaid glides. I want to glide.

 

 

Oh yeah...and they sing really, really pretty! I want to sing really, really pretty. But I'd have to be a mermaid to be able to sing like one. When Ariel had legs, she couldn't even speak. That would be horrible!!

 

OH. YEAH...I meant to tell you. Since we are talking about singing. 

 

Dicky is mean. Just cruel and mean. And rude. To me. His wife.

 

So we go to Lubbock so he can have his colonoscopy, you know, since he is now FIFTY YEARS OLD, and all.

 

He drives up there, but of course I'm to drive him home.

 

Everything goes great, by the way. We made it to Lubbock without any major "accidents", if you know what I mean! LOL And the procedure was fine, as were the results.

 

So we get in the car to come home. I did make two stops, but he stayed in the car and rested. I'm so good to him.  Then we head home.

 

He's reclined back in the passenger seat, resting his eyes and I'm thinking quality sharing time, right? He always fusses because, as he puts it "my nose is always stuck to that (blankedy-blak) phone anytime we travel.

 

I really had a lot on my mind. So we talked. I talked, I should say, because I had more things to say than he did. But he did, umm hum, a few times.

 

And it was a really good radio day, so I did a little singing as well. He is really the only person that honestly enjoys my singing.

 

 

Then. Out of the blue. He just says, "Would you just shut the "blank" up?"

 

I'm just flabbergasted! We were having a perfectly good conversation and he just up and rudely tells me to be quiet!

 

Claims he was trying to sleep or something. Really...could you really sleep with all this conversation going on? He wasn't trying to sleep.

 

So I told him fine! If he didn't want me to talk, then I would just sing. I said, "I'm in a good mood and I've got to let it out. So what do you want...talking, or singing?"

 

Do you know what he answered? Seriously...you will be floored.

 

"What I want, is for you to speed this car up and get the "blank" home."

 

I still can't believe it...Yall don't know how mean he is...he is just plain ole mean. Like a coon dog. No reason.

 

There...I told you I was going to tell on you Dicky. You old coon dog!

 

*****

 

Love you all bunches!!

 

In the Groove...or Cha Cha, or something like that.

March 1. 

New month.

New life chapter. 

Bear with me a few minutes....

I lost my sister. February 23, 2015. 

This is a pain like I didn't know existed. I am better now. 

But, I've screamed at the top of my lungs. I've cried 10 times my weight in tears (now that's a lot). I've beat myself  up with regrets. I've knocked myself down with guilt. 

I've moaned and groaned, and whined and why'd. 

But I've also laughed, and laughed, and laughed. And smiled the biggest smiles with the joy and memories of having had the privilege of all that comes with loving and being loved by Melinda. 

I'm not out of sap, by any means. But there's only so much I can share out loud without beginning to hear the eye rolls of those that must listen. Not because you don't love me, but because LIFE GOES ON. 

I don't expect to be without hard days. Heaven knows, Daddy and Momma, and her kids will have so many more than I. But I'm not going to plan for them. I'm not going to worry about them. I'm going to smile and go on and love so much better for the pain I've felt the last week. 

I love Ed Sherran. That cute little red-headed Englishman, that has a voice and a way with words that touches me to the core sometimes. (I'm not terribly deep, ya know). And in the quiet this morning when the rest of the house was sleeping, his little hidden track came on and I felt it appropriate. 

It I know it sounds like an Irish drinking song. So before you think me odder than you already do, (Freak Flag alert!!!)I need to say that in this sweet tune I hear a goodbye from someone that knows he's leaving behind regrets that will never be able to be rectified at his leaving. He knows he can't stop it, and he can't prevent the pain. He can only wish joy to those that love him and go on with what must be. 

So I'll share this, and promise (a promise that I will try to keep) no more sappiness in my little blog world. At least for a while. 

The Parting Glass

Of all the money that e'er I had
I've spent it in good company
And all the harm that e'er I've done
Alas it was to none but me
And all I've done for want of wit
To memory now I can't recall
So fill to me the parting glass
Good night and joy be with you all

Of all the comrades that e'er I had
They are sorry for my going away
And all the sweethearts that e'er I had
They would wish me one more day to stay
But since it falls unto my lot
That I should rise and you should not
I'll gently rise and I'll softly call
Good night and joy be with you all

A man may drink and not be drunk
A man may fight and not be slain
A man may court a pretty girl
And perhaps be welcomed back again
But since it has so ought to be
By a time to rise and a time to fall
Come fill to me the parting glass
Good night and joy be with you all
Good night and joy be with you all

*******

So....Now what...how do I talk about no progress on a glamper after that? 

Well, first I'll say. there's no progress on the Hag Wagon. I did finish a new little "art to me" piece to hang up in it. Problem is...I like it in my "happy room" so there it shall stay. 

Now you are wondering what in the dickens is my "happy room"? It's my craft room. I have a sewing room, too. But my craft room is where I hang/keep all the silly things I have made, bought or been given that make me happy to look at, but have no where they really "go". I spent a lot of years not buying things, or making things that I liked, because I didn't have anywhere to put them. Well, now, if the shoe fits, and it fits no where else, it goes in my craft room. 

I've done both...but I don't keep Dicky
in the Happy Room.
He can't be left unattended. :)

Now my craft/happy room is not to be confused with my sewing room. I have such an ADD mind, that I have to have two rooms so I can keep my crafts going all at the same time. I just run back and forth as the need arises. 

Remeber the flowers I had on FB Online Garage sale a couple of weeks ago...well...for whatever reason I found myself in the middle of the floor of my happy room this morning, and voila! The urge hit, and the flowers just happened to be right at my fingertips. So BOOM...I do still have some left, though. so if you are in need, please feel free to call. 

******

I have a true sadness for those that are only able to be sad in a time of loss. (Ok...a little sappy...but this won't hurt much, I promise.)The tears are going to fall, but God's true love allows for smiles in the worst of times. 

And by golly...there has been some laughing going on this weekend. 

Torie's boys are so adorable, I could absolutely eat them up. I wish I were able to replay all the conversations those little guys have included me in this weekend. I know Sam, AKA Uncle Sam, has played hide and seek until I don't know if he knows he's been found yet. 

Such total randomness, and honesty out of the blue. One just walks up, looks you in the face, with no hint of what's about to be said and says it. 

To Bailey, "You're pretty." (turns around and walks off)No smile, no nothing. It just had to be said. 

To Dicky, "You're smart."

To Mike, "You're big."

To "that other lady, I'm not allowed to mention", known as GiGi to the boys," GiGi, are you old?"

To the room full of Chicken and Dumplin cooks that I will tell you about in a minute, " Yall are so funny. Erbody in here is funny."

To me...I'm trying to make them call me Swannie, "You're Aunt Roxanna." (Aside from a girl Bailey went to school with, I do not know a Roxanna.)

OK...I guess you had to be there, but they are just adorable. As is little Logan. 

*****

How many goofballs does it take to make a pot of chicken and dumplins? Well, last night it took about 10. And a triple team of MerryMaids to clean up the  mess afterwards. I have a video. It's only a small portion of the event. And I've been threatened, by "you know who", (you know, that person that birthed me, that has forbidden me from mentioning her in my blogs ever again, all because I've told a few tales that she thought maybe shouldn't have been shared?)(The one that's name starts with a M and ends with an R,and she's married to my Daddy?)( Yeah, that one). I've been threatened by her to NOT post the video on Facebook. So I'm in a unique position in that, this is NOT Facebook, this is my personal blog. Yes, I do usually post a link on FB when I publish a post, but I never post the actual blog info on FB. 

So I'm having a hard time deciding how much heck there will be to pay if I post the video here. In MY OWN blog, that does NOT have her name mentioned anywhere in it. 

And actually...now that I think about it, she has never said I couldn't put her picture here. A video is just a moving picture, right? 

I'll just keep writing, and when I get ready to publish, I guess I'll decide then, if I want to include it or not. 

******

I don't know about yall, but I'm ready for Spring. We are planning a Canton trip soon, and I know Dicky and Daddy are ready to start cooking again. I think that "other lady" is, too. She usually cooks in the bean contest and any other jackpots that might be open at the cookoff. Sometimes it's dessert, or maybe bloody marys. But I think my favorite is the Salsa contest. I participate in that sometimes, too. Moth....ummm, I mean "that lady" and I have even won a time or two. She actually wins her contests a lot. They aren't too picky about your actual definition of Salsa, so there are lots of recipes and options available. 

Melinda has gone to a few cook offs with us, but I dont' think she was ever there when we did our Salsa. She was REALLY impress when "that lady" won first and I won second at Novice, Texas. 

In case you can't read it...
Melinda comments, " I never knew you could dance so well....
OOOOOHHHHLAAAA LLLLAAAA!"

I thought she was teasing...she wasn't. LOL She really thought we had won with some sort of Salsa dance. 

Well, I'm pooped. It's been a long week, and I think I'll go be worthless for the rest of the day. (because I've been so productive the rest of it.)

Until next time...go do something crafty cool!! 

Toodles...love, Aunt Roxanna. 

Gobbling and Squabbling

As I'm sitting here, straight up in bed, Indian style, playing Candy Crush at 3:00am, waiting for my wave of heartburn to pass, I'm pondering the depth of my sanity.

I am quite silly, I know that. But hey, look who I came from, live with, and birthed. You've heard the old saying, "It's hard to soar with the eagles, when you are surrounded by turkeys"? (I love how my auto correct just tried to capitalize "Eagles", my all time favorite band!) 

I don't mean all my family are turkeys, and I'm some majestic bird, trapped in the gobble pen. I just mean to say they are all pretty funny, life loving folks. They are very decent and proper when appropriate (mostly), but not over "politically correct"ly stiff and serious all the time. Therefore, even if I had a desire fly that way, it ain't gonna happen. They'd quickly tether my talons back to the real world that I know and love. 

That being said, from time to time, and really very little time between, I realize that in a vote by those near and dear to me, of my rafter (that's turkey talk for flock) I should say, I would probably be elected "Most Likely to Gobble."

So, here I am, at now 3:09am, thinking about my wobbling, gobbling personality. Wondering as I'm hanging out with my turkeys,  should really be with the flock of gooniebirds.

Earlier this evening, Dicky and the kids are sitting in a quite, not so playful, too much fun the previous night, "I'm tired and really just want to sit here", dazed, it's been a long day, but we really want to hang out kind of mood. But me? Nope. Celebrating my dvd player set up success in interpretive dance. Football style "excessive celebration" toss of the remote control. Singing an impromptu diddy for whatever I need to say, so it will make Halle smile. Best come-backs, put downs in a favorite family competition, that I didn't even notice no one was playing but me. 

Never did it occur to me that they may be wondering if this was when ole Swannie Bob was finally going to keep going straight off the deep end. 

Not until now, at 3:20 am. I'm fighting off the wave of nausea from too many corn chips with my Mexican dinner. When many people take the opportunity to mull over the days happenings, or wonder what morning will bring.  I'm thinking about and worrying about the same things, but...it's 3 in the flippin morning. I have the "Happy" song playing in my head. And I'm tapping my foot and wiggling my head dancing to it. Dicky is snoozing quietly (for s change) beside me, Gracie has taken over my pillow, since I'm not using it at the moment, and I'm all "clap(ping) along if (I)feel like a room without a roof". (only makes sense if you know the song.)

Sorry, now I know I've got you singing it. But is it 3 in the morning? And even if you are up at this time, are you ACTUALLY singing, clapping, or dancing? 

I know, I know, I'm being a bit over dramatic about the deterioration of my sanity. But I am wondering, are they really worried that Swannie's going crazy? Or rather I'm worried. 

I've been thinking a lot lately about how fast we age. As kids we can't wait till our next birthday, as young adults we could really care less, and as middle aged fogies, we start to wish they'd slow down  and not come around quite so often. 

And of course with age, comes the slow, or fast, breakdown of our youthful qualities. Both physical and mental. 

I think about the people with Alzheimer's.  How horrible it must be to be trapped in a mind with its own will, letting you out only for brief periods, and eventually none at all. 

But then there are those "crazies" you see out living on the streets. I'm using the word "crazies", only because that's what so many of us, of sound mind (or so we assume) think of them. You know who I mean. They scream and argue with the invisible foe in the trees. They tell strange tales that no one seems to understand. They dance and sing in public to songs no one can hear but them....

That last one is what gets me. I do that! Not just at 3:00am. Not just to make my grand baby smile. Not just when I'm being silly. But ALL THE TIME! 

I catch myself dancing while I'm crafting and things are going together well. Music actually playing or not. I shake my bootie when I'm cleaning the kitchen, I have been known to bust a move brushing my teeth in the morning. Or just moving from room to room, doing regular ordinary, not especially exciting kind of things, all turkeys do. (Ever wondered why it's not spelled turkies?)

So am I becoming a tree curser crazy lady? Have I been one all along, and I'm experiencing one of those moments of mental clarity and am only briefly realizing it? Am I crazy for even putting this out there and (semi)publicly questioning it. 

Therein brings another question, that I also often wonder. Are yall reading because you like my style of silly, or is it the proverbial train wreck you are watching for?

******
I went back to sleep. Slept til 10:30 as a matter of fact. I've changed my mind. I'm not crazy. No worries. (Yes, I'm sure you beg to differ.)I'm just a little eccentric....Yeah, that's it...I'm eccentric. I like that word. 

OOOOHHHH I really like this explanation! 

*****
I just found this awesome blog...I think this person is inside my head!! 

Sorry for the plagiarism, but I had to steal...
I'm eccentric. No, i mean it comes to me very naturally. I think of people i haven't met for along time and make up imaginary conversations in my mind, envisaging what it would be like to have bumped into them all of a sudden. I fall in love with people without knowing, buy them things for the sake of nothing and then at times stop and tell myself that may have been too silly.

That takes me to another issue. I think i have forgotten how to make friends. I mean close friends. Remember when we could sit with someone, chat with her and then realise that we were made for each other and would go back to one another for everything. Well, even if that could be a short stayed relationship and we may realise that we arent actually pieces of the same jig saw puzzle, at least the initial part of socializing came naturally. Now, i have to painfully make it up. Sigh!

There was a time when I did not know anything about myself and was really happy. (well not necessarily happy that i was clueless about it, am pointing towards the blissfulness of now knowing about the not knowing). Years later, I am still trying to understand myself and now since i know about the not knowing, im not happy. Get the point?

Guess it's time to go for a shrink. My poor new blog has become a garbage bin of sorts. :)

******
Did I really just pay $3 to finally pass level 765 on Candy Crush? I'm officially one of THOSE people. It was only 99cents for more lives. That's all I needed to get that ONE jelly block. And I've been on this level for-ev-er! But then I realized those 5 lives were not going to give me the moves I needed either. So $2 more bought me some lollipop hammers to take that sucka out!

Don't judge. If you could have seen that little blue candy just sitting there tormenting me with that one little bit of jelly behind it, you would have done the same! It HAD to be done, even if it cost me $3 to do it.

True confessions! :(

******
Is it time to change my choice in music? One of my new favs..."Shawty, I don't mind if you dance on a pole. That don't make you a ho." Is it bad if I sing this to Halle to get her to sleep, since she doesn't know the words? I do love Usher, and though I am a little disappointed with his lyrics, I still can't help but like it.  Here's the Youtube, incase you haven't heard it. I think you will be quite impressed.

*****
Well, I didn't quite succeed in my same day publishing goal this time. That was all from last week. Since then, I earned the title of "Most Comments on a Facebook Post IN Post Poster". Just a little drama episode over this Chris Kyle movie. 
 
It was a good movie. Did I "like" it? No. I don't like to be reminded that there is a not so pretty world out there. But it was a good one. And I think everyone should see it to be reminded what's going on right now...as we sit stuffing our faces, watching the Superbowl and laughing at the commercials. 

But I wonder, when they decided to make it, if they knew what kind of friendships would be lost and tested over conversations about it. I won't get into it all again here. Or I might..here I can have the last say! But it doesn't really matter, in my mind I'm right. And since this is my blog, unless you can hack in and change my story, CHRIS KYLE IS A HERO!

 I do not "worship" him. But he is a hero in my eyes. He didn't choose to go to war. He didn't want to kill another human being (I hope), but he was given a job to do and he did it. He could have put out his less than best effort, been given a poop job, and hid out from the action. But he didn't. Nor do so many other military heros! 

I think a few of us have this handy on the top shelf. 

That seemed to be the most contested opinion on my little facebook post. Hero, or not? Well, what started out as a friendly little debate of opinions between a few, turned into a good ole West Texas throwdown threat! 

I do love West Texas! Here you are more than entitled to your opinion...but you better keep it to yourself, or you might get a bootie whoopin! God. Country. Family. Mess with ours, you're gonna answer to the toe of our cowboy boots. 

I do think it was mostly in fun. There may have been a few that got real "bootie feelings". But I bet most are over it by today. But the fact that we are able to post and comment publicly our disagreement or displeasure of a choice made by our government, is proof enough that our military are heros! Were it not for them, we could be hiding our Bibles and keeping our opinions to ourselves. 

Those freedoms have opened up a few loopholes for the extremists, though. A country based on God, but it's not fair to the atheists that we celebrate Him. Just one example, and I don't want to start another debate. But I think a few of us provided some good entertainment for several Saturday morning. 
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Why do people get so irate over a difference of opinions? It's not like either of your opinions are going to make a difference in what's already happened. Just share your views, agree to disagree, and move on. 

We "simple" folk aren't impressed with yer fancy werds and Googled facts. I don't care if you can properly use the word "supercalifragilisticexpialidocious" in a sentence.  (dum, diddle diddle diddle dum diddle dee,...singing again!) (Google THAT...all you young uns, and stick THAT in your pipe and smoke it!)

Do you want to know what impresses me? Have a REAL conversation about what's the best sewing machine, do you prefer canned biscuits or tortillas for chicken and dumplings, do these socks go with my eyeshadow. Give me a REAL conversation, with useful information I can take back to the real world with me and actually use. THEN I'll be impressed. 

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On a much more serious note...my grandbaby has TWO teeth now! We got to baby sit her last night while her momma and daddy went out for a while. She asked me if she could just live here, but I don't think her parents are going to let her. Her momma won't let her have tea. I won't say how I know, but it is one of her favorite drinks! She does think it's quite yummy, right out of the cup!
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Other than the drama, Saturday morning. I've sewn my brains out. I'm making more throw pillows for the old Hag Wagon. The more the better...when I'm done it's going to look like a pillow ball pit! 

Ok, this is getting a little long, and out of control. A little to much seriousness for my liking. So I'll sign off and get ready for the new work week!! 

Toodleoooooooo....Go make something crafty cool!!