Lost and Found ,, Beck's Father's Coat

In sticking with my promise to myself to NOT post political junk on this site, I would like to make a disclaimeer here.. This is  NOT a Political Post, but it is a segment from Glen Beck's TV show.  The subject is about a young single mother and her story about finding Glen Beck's father's coat.

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"Open That Jar of Pickles"?

Open That Jar of Pickles


“Let me open that jar of pickles for you”.

Twirling around , hopping, in the kitchen must have been part of a magical dance to somehow help herself loosen the lid atop the jar of Mt. Olive dill pickles.

“I want to do it myself”.

With this kind of determination, always called for wrinkled eyebrows in sort of a “pout” and the heightened concentration by sticking her tongue out. With this, she had not changed since she was old enough to walk.

“Daddy, Daddy, come look. I can do it”.

At first I felt a bit of a shock. A parent can instantly see signs of pain in the face of their children. I had been occupied all morning building a storage shed in the back yard to put extra boxes that we had yet to unpack. Dust and dirt covered her little five year old face. Each cheek sported horizontal “clean” streaks resembling cartoon war paint. It was easy to recognize the knuckle smears where the backs of her hands had wiped the tears, and the dirt, from her eyes and cheeks over and over again.

“I can do it. I can ride my bicycle”.

By accident, we had moved a small 12” child’s bike that had belonged to a friend, when we moved to South Carolina from Texas. I remembered distinctively that it was not equipped with training wheels.

“Come watch me. I can ride it”.

Little, short, running strides could barely keep up with my normal walking gait. The bicycle had about as many scratches as she did. The knees of her blue jeans were almost worn throw and her tennis shoes were on their last leg. Snatching the frame upright on to its two wheels, she stood on her left tip-toes in order to throw her right leg over the seat.

“Don’t bite your tongue off”.

That was the only instruction that I had to offer. She was forever sticking her tongue out when she was wrestling with some type of obstacle, whether animate or mental. I stepped back to watch. Pushing off, she started down the driveway. Wiggle, wiggle, and then with speed, the travel line began to straighten. I positioned myself at the end of the driveway so I could stop her before she rode into the main street. I was a slight incline going toward the street. There had been no need. Applying the kick back brake, the rear tire locked up and place another signature along with the other black I can do it skid streaks.

Snap, a grunt, and a twist and the aroma of pickles filled the kitchen. The cartoon war streaks were not there but I still got to see that smile and determination.

“I told you I could do it”.

“Yep, you did, along with forty eleven dozen thing along the way”

We finished with our song…

(All my girls and grandkids had their own little song that we sing. This one was a pee-wee cheerleader so we developed hers into sort of a “yell”. This will stay up only a short time because,, well, that is just the way I am,,) I start, she picks up, I cut in, she pick back up ‘til after the clap and then sometimes finish in unison.

With a cadence:

Cortney Wortney, she’s my honey,

She is cuter than the Easter Bunny.

And, Like Brear Rabbit, who love the thicket,,

I lubbbbb my Cortney, (clap and stomp) Now that’s The Ticket.


Now, you have heard about the "whole bunch"  and a few have asked about pic.  This will be up for a short time only, but now you know who my baby girls are and Yep, The Boss.. lol

"Net"

As an Old Country Codger, who is also a parent, you wonder sometimes what you might have taught your young’uns. Yesterday I didn’t wonder. I relaxed. Not for myself but my youngest Baby Girl. She received the news that she passed her BAR EXAM.


We hear a lot about “net” these days. I don’t mean the kind you catch something in but where one bunch is compared to another bunch and compare which bunch is the biggest. That difference is the “net” of something.

I have “net’ed” a lot more “taught” than I dispensed. My Middle Daughter called “The Boss” yesterday after she got the news from the younger, and asked “How does it feel to be the parents of a new lawyer”. I haven’t had that conversation with the Middle one yet but it gave me a lot of thinking opportunities. It feels like happiness and humongeous pride for the youngest one’s accomplishment. She worked herself to a frazzle during college and her internship with the State Department,, just like the Middle One did while she worked herself through school, internship with the Center for Disease Control, set up her own business, with two kids 3 and 2, Big Paw’s Baby Girl and Baby Boy( Big Paw’s baby boy being brought from Russia), and the Oldest worked herself through college, who now is in the midst of raising Big Paw’s Big Boy-9 years old, (who was born 3 months early and weighed 1 ½,, yep one and one half pounds at birth, three months in intensive care in the hospital) while she teaches school and helps her husband with their business. – all one sentence?,,I know.

Through all of their adventures, they supported each other as well. One looks out for the other and we all look out for each other. A tiny blog post cannot even touch what I could write, so I think it all come down to strength. Comparing “net” strength or “net” taught, with them and this old 6’2, 275 lb. Old Codger, look in the dictionary under “Short End of the Stick”, and you will see my picture.

Through it all “The Boss” molded and shaped when the situation needed “molding and shaping” and I take bragging rights kind of shyly – but I take them, so sue me. I got a great lawyer

Congratulations to my Baby Girl.

Has Anyone Signed Up?

Has anyone signed up for the NaNoWriMo thingy?  Did anyone participate last year?,,and how much time did you have to devote to it.. Seems like a survey don't it?