Friday, December 26, 2008

ho, ho, ho

hey girls. hope y'all have had a fine christmas. splashed a bit of red
food coloring in my julep, wrapped a green napkin around the bottom of
the glass and got through the day just fine. gonna' be an interesting
new year, eh?

till next time,
miz vul

Wednesday, November 5, 2008

Guess We'll See if We Get What We Asked For

My friends,

I watched the election process and even stayed up last night to see the results. This is the only time in my aging years that I have felt so strongly about the outcome. Note, I didn't say candidates.

I guess we'll all see over the next couple of years if what the American public asked for is really the best for America. My grandma used to say, "Careful what you ask for. You just may get it. And it may come at a high price." In grandma's life, she asked to live on the water full time. She ended up getting her wish, but it was after the death of her husband. It was also when her children were forced to place her in a nursing home. She told my mama that she would have picked grandpa over the water front view any day.

So, we'll see. We'll see.

Miss Etta

Wednesday, October 22, 2008

Benefits of Wall Street Crash Found

I just figured out how the failure of the banks and Wall Street are helping the environment!

Yep, it truly is. How, you say?

Just check your mailbox and see how light all of the junk mail is these days. Why, it used to be I needed a crane to lift all the offers of credit cards and gotta-refinance-now envelopes. It was just all too much for my arms.

Now, all that junk mail has stopped. So, guess what? Those useless papers aren't going into the trash and filling up our local landfills. But then again, I'm not getting my daily bicep workout either.

Yep, there was a silver lining in that crisis.

Ms. Georgia Gal

Monday, October 13, 2008

Noise and American Pride, All Rolled into One Show

Front Porch Friends,

I'm sorry I was not on my porch this weekend. I was inside hovering, waiting for the bombs to land. Did you hear all the noise from the Air Show? Why, my poor fish were shivering from all the vibrations of those gigantic planes bellowing overhead.

Can you imagine what it must have been like for the poor people during World War II when those bombers were flying overhead? Why, they must have thought the world was coming to an end. I guess it did for some of them.

The Air Show is really a fun thing to do in Peachtree City. Seeing all those men in uniform and listening to them as their pride spills over and out about their flying machines and our country just brings tear glistens to my eyes. I also like to see all the stunts and the cheers from the folks on the ground.

Now, if I could just stop the noise.

Have a good day, my friends. It's gotta get better-- I hear the stock market is feeling a bit better today after it tried its suicide run last week.

Miss Etta

Thursday, October 9, 2008

Casting My Vote

Well, girlfriends, I went to vote yesterday. First time I've done
anything early in a long, long time. They were kinda' busy there, and
when I commented to one of the gals who works there about the brisk
business they were doing, she said it wasn't nearly as busy as usual.
It was raining yesterday, and I guess hubbie and I are 2 people who
know with absolute certainty that we aren't going to melt. Plus it
actually makes my hair look better when I'm out in the rain.

Let me tell you: they had the cutest pens there - you know, writing
pens - ready for us to fill out the form. Somebody (perhaps in the
days before they got so busy) had taped colorful fall leaves to the
pens. Not only will the pens likely stay there, saving us taxpayers
some money, but they were just adorable. So much more fun to write
with than plain ole' unadorned stick pens. You should've seen it: all
those leaves blowing in the wind as people wrote.

Anyway, we went from that room to the room with the voting booths, and
once again, we were greeted in a friendly, smiling manner and we
didn't have to wait in line. Walked right up to a booth, popped that
yellow card in, and voted. Quick and easy. Felt good to have it done.

The only thing that frustrated me about the whole process is that at
the end of the ballot where there are all those long, indecipherable
questions, there were only options for "yes" and "no". Me, I wanted to
be able to vote "HELL NO".

Have y'all voted yet?

Miz Vul

Sunday, October 5, 2008

Houses, Houses Everywhere Today

Today, at the Barack Obama concert/rally/voter registration drive held
on the campus of Ohio State University, Bruce Springsteen told the
crowd: "Despite the terrible erosion to our standing in the world, we
remain for many people a house of dreams, and 1,000 George Bushes and
1,000 Dick Cheneys will never be able to tear that house down."

Quite interesting to read that tired, old, rearview mirror statement
while watching an Extreme Home Makeover show in which an entire
community - also in Ohio - came together to rebuild a house for the
Jason Thomas family. Before the show, the Thomas house was in such a
dismal condition that it barely provided shelter for the family. After
this show, it was a house of strength, just like its owners and
inhabitants.

And why this particular family? Because on 9/11/2001, Jason Thomas was
a Marine who worked long and hard (and has the melted boots to prove
it) to extract people who landed beneath tons and tons of building
that had once been the Twin Towers. Two of the men who were extracted
by Thomas were interviewed on the show. As best I remember, one man
was trapped for 13 hours, the other for 22 hours. Both men thanked
Thomas and all the other heroes who were ordinary citizens before that
day.

Jason Thomas is a man who keeps his love of country no secret. The man
flat out loves this country. He does.

The show brought many tears. The family cried, of course, when they
first saw the house. Crew members cried when local Marine recruiters
presented them with flags (one American, one Marine) to fly at the
remodeled house. The Marine Sergeant teared-up as he explained to
Jason Thomas why the Marines were honored to be part of this project.
Ed, one of the carpenters on the Extreme Home Makeover crew, cried
openly as he spoke of his love of America and said, in his heavy
foreign accent, how he could not wait to become an American citizen.

Ed also cried when he cut his hand badly while carving an American
flag to decorate the Thomas' new home. When Jason Thomas saw the flag
and was told about Ed's injury that occurred while carving the flag,
he quietly commented that people bleed for the American flag every
day, and to know that Ed bled for this flag would make it the
centerpiece of the house. Forever.

Two stories of houses. Two stories of people coming together in Ohio.

Just goes to show, doesn't it girls? Just goes to show.

Miz Vul

Monday, September 29, 2008

No Trash, Just the Gas Please

My, My, missy, you've gone and gotten yourself all worked up. Be careful it doesn't mess with your delicate constitution and all. I just worry about your health and all. Don't get yourself all riled up because of the trashy people. And I'm here to tell ya, I haven't seen them yet.

My friends, I had to leave the porch with its delightful cool morning breeze to go for gasoline. Gotta tell ya, I just love Kroger. Not only did they have gasoline in Peachtree City this morning, I waited all of 2 minutes, maybe, to get my gas. The guys are out there directing traffic, and they are pleasant, and they've got gas. The gentleman I spoke with told me that Kroger wasn't going to try and raise the prices to the higher level of the others in town. He also said that gas wasn't such an issue in northern suburbs of Atlanta. He also said he would run out soon, but he has been pretty lucky about getting it in on a fairly regular basis. Now, don't that beat all?

I don't know what this man's title was, but in my book, his customer service skills and those of all the guys working at the fuel center today, were exceptional.

Oh, and on my way out, I passed one of those other places who have been keeping their gas prices high, and guess what. They had gas, but no customers. Guess the paying public only goes there when they have to get gas or suffer the consequences. Go figure.

Miss Etta

Friday, September 26, 2008

Give Me a Break, Foreign Policy Experience??

It's been such a delightfully cool series of early mornings that I've had to put off sitting on the front porch while I wait for my julep sisters to show up. So, I've been sitting inside watching some TV. I know, it's something I rarely do, but I've become interested in the upcoming elections.

Just now, while I was ironing-- two things happened which made me say, "Give me a break."

First of all, my iron decided that smoke was a good thing. It must have thought so as it started beeping at me, and smoking like there was no tomorrow. Of course, it also decided to burn the white shirt I was trying to smooth out. Arrgg! Guess I'm gonna run out to the local stores now to look at new wrinkle reducing appliances.

The second main event of the morning is where one of the ladies on a morning talk show said that Obama has foreign policy experience as he just met some of the foreign officials this week. Give me a break! And then she said that since Sarah Palin didn't meet them, she has none! Give me a break!

Who is running for the President's spot? I guess I should since I, too, have foreign policy experience. It appears I have as much or more than Obama, according to the talk show host definition this morning. Yep, I've been to several countries for high tech meetings and been wined and dined. And I'm here to tell ya, they didn't serve me any juleps. Give me a break! Meeting a foreign person or leader does not qualify one as having "foreign policy experience."

Gotta fix another cup of morning juice. Perhaps that will settle my tummy down. Oh, the nerve of it all. Give me a break. Sounds like another feeble attempt to make one candidate look better than someone he is not running against, at least head to head. Are his supporters that scared?

The now smokin' Missy Georgia

Thursday, September 25, 2008

Whose Money Pays for Trash in Peachtree City?

Miz Vul,

After your last outburst on trashy talk in Peachtree City, I decided I had to get my little ole fingers on the document you discussed. I'm a mite riled up now, too.

Whose money are they talking about here? Who is going to have to pay more for mandatory recycling and the privilege of having no choice? Umm, let's see. Umm. The author of the letter suggests he knows we have a choice and we would like to keep our choices. Ummm. Best that he remember that come election time here in these parts.

I'm so upset, I've got to take some time now and fan myself while I look for all those kindly neighbors who supposedly have their trash everywhere. Hmmmm. Don't see any on my daily treks through town. Hmmm. Actually, what I DO see are ordinary citizens who are runners picking up trash on the golf cart paths. Yep, I see volunteers take on that task. Yep, I think those guys are great.

And nope, I don't think we need our local elected folk telling me who I can pay my hard earned money to in order to pay for the city's wants and its proposed fee structure. Oh, and by the way, I do recycle and it's not going into our local landfill. And guess what--- my trash company doesn't know that. How much more are they missing?

Best go walk on our alleged trashy streets some more before I forget I am a southern lady. You've succeeded in getting me off of my own front porch in this mission.

Monday, September 22, 2008

trash talk

Hey Girls,

Have been without internet service for more than 2 weeks, and am just
now digging out from under a bunch 'a stuff which is when i discovered
the Peachtree City newsletter and what the mayor has to say about
garbage service in Peachtree City. No matter how hard I try to find it
funny, I just can't help but find it all pretty insulting. And scary.
And infuriating. Does he really believe this? Does he really think
others will believe this? Do others really believe this or are my
critical thinking skills better than I thought?

Seems the City Council is leaning towards creating a monopoly (i mean,
selecting ONE company) to do ALL the garbage pickups in PTC. His-ness
says that the council has thought long and hard about this difficult
decision, and here's what they've come up with in all that long, hard
pondering:

Cost: He seems to think that having a monopoly (i mean, one company)
will reduce prices. Guess he never heard of competition. Me, I've
always found that when there's a monopoly, prices go UP, not down.

Streets: Having a monoploy (i mean, one company) will not tear up the
streets so bad. Un huh. Sure.

Recycling: PTC will lose their recycling center, his-ness says, when
the road is widened. What to do? Oh, what to do? His-ness suggests
that the city will force the monopoly (i mean, the one garbage
company) to provide the recycling center. Though his wording sure
sounds like the PTC gestapo (i mean, code enforcement patrol) will add
going-through-your-garbage-to-make-sure-that-you-are-recycling to
their list of powers (i mean, duties), his-ness assures us that will
not be the case. His calculator seems to convince him that having a
monopoly (i mean, one) garbage company and forcing them to provide the
recycling center will actually REDUCE what we are currently paying for
garbage pick up. (I want me one of those calculators. I really do.)

Public Health: His-ness says - and I quote - "The current multiple
provider system gives us no way to ensure everyone has service. With
one company, they can report anyone whose service is discontinued for
non-payment, and the City can ensure that proper garbage service is
maintained at the residence." Now, Girls, the way I read that is that
every resident will be REQUIRED to pay for garbage pickup. Period.
Before this quote I mentioned, his-ness writes about how the law
enforcement folk have seen trash piled up in and out of local houses.
There's just so much here, I hardly know where to start, so I'll start
small: did you notice how his-ness CAPITALIZES the word "City"? I
think that's enough said about that, and actually, I think that pretty
much sums up my problem with this whole issue. But I'm gonna' continue
anyway. I'm what's commonly known as a neatnik, but I've got some
cousins who aren't nearly so interested in keeping a neat, orderly
house to which I say: SO WHAT? Now we're going to let city (notice NO
capitalization) authorities determine what is neat and what is not or
what is trash and what is not?

Litter: Apparently, having a monopoly (i mean, one) garbage company is
going to ensure that we never see litter on the streets of PTC again.

Choice: Seems that some folks share my desire for personal choice, BUT
while his-ness admits to understanding that desire, he "would like to
point out that there is still an element of choice in this process."
Then his-ness goes on to point out that the current "City Council and
I were chosen to serve you." He considers THAT as our personal choice?
We elected them, therefore we've exercised our personal choice. And he
apparently is under the cockamamie idea that we elected them to save
us from ourselves.

Customer Service: His-ness actually wants us to believe that having a
monopoly (i mean, one) garbage company will give us better customer
service. Again, I say "Un huh. Sure."

Girlfriends, didn't they actually try this monopoly (i mean, one)
garbage company idea a while back? And here we are with multiple
companies now. Hhhmmmmmm. What's that they say about history repeating
itself?

This whole thing scares me, girls. It really does. But then I've never
heard anybody ever refer to PTC as Galt's Gulch.

Oh, I can't go on. I just can't. My blood is boiling. I'm just gonna'
have to go fix me a julep (or three) (maybe more) . . . and I have a
damn good idea what to do with my glass when it's empty.

Till next time,
Miz Vul

Thursday, September 4, 2008

Such a Pretty "Bulldog" with Lipstick

Oh my. I watched Sarah Palin last night and boy,oh boy, is she a great speaker! I loved her speech, and that's saying a lot since I am not into politics. I thought she nailed everything down and starting driving those nails into the other party's candidates.

Speaking of the Dems, I guess Senator Biden didn't receive his briefing before he spoke. This morning, he praised Palin for raising her three children. Hmm. Guess he couldn't count the five children on stage with her?

Yesterday, while you mint gals of mine were off, some other friends dropped in to share a jar of juice with me. As you can imagine, all talk was on Sarah Palin. Why, one friend thought she shouldn't run since she had children! Can you believe that? My goodness, the woman ran a whole state while pregnant. And you know how the hormones are when you've got a bun in the oven. Over the top and she still did a superb job by all accounts. So sitting in Washington doing vice presidential duties should be a piece of cake for her.

I guess I should shut up or you gals are gonna think you've converted me to political talk. Nope. Well, maybe for a couple of months while I watch the show unfold.

Miss Etta

Wednesday, September 3, 2008

On Democrats, Protesters, Sarah Palin, Fred Thompson and Joe Lieberman

Miz Vul and Miss Etta, have you girls been payin' attention to what those horrible, low-down, nasty demonstrators have been doing at the Republican Convention? Now you didn't see anybody destroying property and throwing chemicals on people at the Democratic Convention, did you?

Republicans have class. Democrats seem to have thrown principles down the drain if you're looking at those demonstrators as indicators of their nature. I have heard from reliable sources that these hooligans are paid operators and they have no earthly idea why they are out there being criminals.

What in the world makes people so stupid as to think that breaking glass windows of stores and hurting people is going to make anyone want to be part of their cause? I have no problem at all with protesting in a manner that gets your message across. After all, we are a nation built on protests to some degree. And who could ever forget all the tea being thrown in the Boston harbor? Well, I suppose that was destroying personal property so maybe that is not the best example to consider.

And, I do suppose much of what happened in our early days was violent. Oh my, I seem to have talked myself into a corner, haven't I?

Well, no matter, this is not the beginning of a country. We have a wonderful country which allows freedom of speech. But we have rules and we have evolved beyond the animal state of throwing tantrums in order to make a point.

Did you hear they threw bleach on some poor 85-year old woman? What in the world did that woman ever do to them? I hope these low-lifes are put in jail for a long time, although with these liberal judges we have these days they will probably get off with less than a slap on the wrist.

And Sarah Palin? Oh, they are being so cruel. How ever, it seems that their nastiness is backfiring on them if I am reading the tea leaves correctly. I talked with an ardent Obama supporter this morning who told me she was going to vote for the Sarah Palin ticket! She did NOT like what was being done to Sarah and she was so proud a woman was on the ticket. We had ourselves a nice long conversation.

I am excited about Sarah Palin and what she will bring to the table. I have read many of the nasty blogs and they are so scared of her it is not even funny. Well, nothing they are doing in regards to her is funny in the least bit. I can't remember ever seeing the left side running around in such a dither in my years on this earth! Hooo boy is this ever going to be fun tonight watching Sarah Palin giving them what for!

Oh, and I can not leave this blog without mentioning the talk by Fred Thompson and Lieberman last night. If Fred Thompson had ever been able to talk like that during his campaign for President there would be a different ticket today I think! I wasn't "for" him when he ran, but I do think he's a decent man.

What do you think about having another Democrat talking to the Republican Convention? If you'll remember our very own Miller was the first I do believe. I can not ever remember another Democrat talking at a Republican Convention but that doesn't mean it hasn't happened before! Have you ever heard of a Republican crossing over and talking at a Democratic Convention? I think he or she would be booed off the stage.

Well ladies, I have to get back to doing what I do when I'm doing it so I will leave you and get back to it. Have a delightful day and I hope to talk with you soon about all the goings on in Fayette County and beyond our little world!

Your friend,
Miss Faye

Me Thinks Too Much

Correct me if I'm wrong (yeah, like that's gonna happen)-- but you two porch sitters seem to be right happy with the choice of Palin to join McCain for the road to the White House party. Gotta admit that I've never heard of her before, but I guess if you can eat mooseburgers and shoot a big gun and look pretty while doing both of them, well, then I guess it's ok. I'm sure that you will keep us all informed on this super lady. Course I haven't heard yet if she has accepted our invitation to join us on the porch for a batch of our specialty mint julep juice.

Speaking of mint juleps, (yeah, like I could ever forget them)-- do you remember my recent educational lesson on September being Bourban Heritage Month? Well guess what else happens in the month where we lose the summer sun and fall into autumn?

Can you believe it? Are you ready? Yes, it's also National Alcohol and Drug Addiction Recovery Month! Guess I'm missing something. On one hand, we are all supposed to celebrate the heritage of bourban, including my own family's heritage and special recipe, and then they tell us we're supposed to be recovering from the deadly booze. What's up with that? Guess I should be glad that I'm not a recovering addict. But wait a minute, didn't Miss Faye have to go to the land of the free and the dry lately? Guess she'll have a real hard time this month. Which party will she attend? Mine, to celebrate my family's heritage, or hers where she is free and dry?

Too much to ponder on right now. Guess I should go sit on the porch and wait for one of my friends to show up with the mason jar. Maybe we should call it the masonette jar in honor of Sarah?

Miss Etta

Sunday, August 31, 2008

Miz Vul, You ever watch them talking heads?

I've been listening to those so-called talking heads yakking on television about Sarah Palin. They need to get their heads out from where the sun don't shine! They're scurrying around trying to find some trash to talk about her just hoping to dampen the enthusiasm. Wooo boy are they having a hard time! They're runnin' scared and it is so clear that's what they're doing. I know they're supposed to be impartial, but did you hear how they were yelling and whooping it up when ol' Obama was talking at his coming out party? So much for journalistic integrity, huh?

You can tell they're in a dither! Can't you just see them with their heads together yelling at each other, saying "that's not going to work", "you can't do that", "do you know what would happen if we did THAT?".

Oh, I'm loving it. Sooner or later they'll get their act together and come up with some tidbit they can blow all out of proportion but lordy, they are a panicking right now!

McCain set them right on their little tails and got 'em spinning. Ya gotta love it and ya gotta love Sarah Palin. I don't know what a mooseburger tastes like and likely I never will, but any woman who can shoot a moose to make one can sure handle whatever this old world might toss at her.

Who can take down super woman? Not old man Biden, that's for sure.

Miss Faye

Saturday, August 30, 2008

You call this change?

Will the real Democratic response please speak up? First Obama and
Hillary say the anticipated snide remarks - which played even nastier
coming on the heels of Palin's gracious mention of them and Ferraro in
her speech. (I tell you, when I heard Palin's respectful mention of
Hillary and Ferraro, I teared-up. I did.) Then comes a revised
response that was supposed to play as friendly and nice and classy.

Well, it didn't.

Obama says the first outburst was from some of his aides who have a
"hair trigger." Hair brain is more like it.

And while we're at it, can somebody explain to me how the Obama camp
can keep talking about sweeping change - much-needed change -
unspecific change and then pick BIDEN as the VP candidate? Shoot,
girlfriends, Biden was working in Washington, D.C. when they broke
ground for the White House. Biden is an entrenched, experienced
Washington bureaucrat. How does Biden represent change? Shoot, does
anybody remember how Biden was caught plagiarising? Biden was so
caught-up in politics-as-usual that he used somebody else's words,
claiming them as his own. I suppose he just figured that it worked for
them, so it would work for him. Plagiarism is stealing intellectual
property that already exists. It is most definitely not change. Change
= something NEW, at least in my dictionary.

Which is it, Obama: status quo or change?

Here we are 24 hours later, and I'm still so excited I can hardly
stand it. My Junior Julep and I are ready to get to work for Palin,
and yes, definitely: let's invite the girl down for some juleps. If
she can handle a gun, 5 children, and Alaska's winters, she can handle
a mint julep.

Till next time . . .

Miz Vul

Friday, August 29, 2008

Wonder how Sarah Palin feels about Mint Juleps?

My goodness, that woman has done everything hasn't she? Eats mooseburgers, shoots guns, hunts, has five kiddos, has governed a state and been mayor of a city. She was a beauty contestant, winning something or other, and has that kick-butt spirit wrapped in syrup that so reminds me of a Southern gal.

Now she's the first woman on a Republican Presidential ticket... Way to go gal!

I am just so EXCITED to have this accomplished woman running for office. A hockey-mom much less, which is a bit stronger I'd think than our local soccer-mom types? Although I wouldn't want to tangle with either of them if their cubs were being maligned.

Have you heard ol' Obama's folks scramblin' to come up with some way to mitigate the exuberance men and women across the country are feeling right now? It just sounds so petty. I mean, I may not be a Hillary supporter, but the way these so-called-love-everyone-support the down-trodden, the women, the poor, Democrats treated that woman is shameful. And the way they went after Geraldine for saying something innocent.

They better watch out with their little nit-pickin' digs at Palin. They ain't never tangled with the riled-up bunch of women they'll be tanglin' with if they keep that kind of garbage going. They look like a bunch of sniveling bullies who've just been bested by a girl. Whine, whine, whine.

I bet they were all scrambling and still are trying to come up with a way to look Democratic and all-inclusive as they attack a woman. Ya gotta love the moment.

On that note, have you noticed how many women there are on tickets and in office across the country? Compare the number of women and minorities in positions of power in the Bush White House to those who were in the Clinton White House. Ha.

Talk about moxy! Have you heard that sharp gal who handles the press for President Bush? I was listening just a minute ago to her talking to the press and she was telling them what the President was going to talk about at the Convention on Monday night. The last thing she said was that Bush wouldn't be attacking Obama and some reporter shouted out, "Why not?". Her quick answer? "Because he has class."

Love it. Thrilled to have Sarah Palin on the ticket and these boys on the Democratic side better watch out. She has more experience than Obama so they better stop attacking her on that one!

Wonder if she'd be willin' to join us on the front porch and sip a few juleps sometime? Guess she's going to be mighty busy for a good while.

What a Way to Celebrate Women's Suffrage

Hey Girls,

I've said it before, and I'll say it again: those Republicans sure do
know how to celebrate and commemorate. I just heard McCain announce
his running mate, and I heard Sarah Palin's acceptance speech. You
know, Michelle Obama said a while back that for the first time in her
life she's proud of her country, and I tell you what: for the first
time in a long time, I am hopeful about our country.

So hopeful that I feel a burst of energy (at least I guess that's what
it is - been so long), and I'm going to clean my house.

After a bit of mint julep fortification, of course.

More on this later (the Republican VP candidate, not cleaning my house).

Miz Vul

Wednesday, August 27, 2008

Little Bits

Hey girls,

Miss Etta, count me in: wipe off my chair and get my mason jar ready.
I'll be there soon cause I tell you what - watching this Democratic
whoopteedoo is enough to drive me to drink. Okay if we start September
early this year?

I bet the O'Bamas are already stockpiling bottled water - probably
buying it off the shelves in New Orleans first - so they can upstage
the Republican whoopteedoo when Gus (I can't remember his full name)
hits New Orleans. And you know good and well that the entire press
corps would pull out and leave the Republicans to cover the O'Bama
gang in the role of Good Samaritans. In a heartbeat they would.

I could go on forever, but I just don't have enough energy to pursue
that one this morning.

Wonder if all this rain got here in time to affect the leaf color. You
know, I seem to remember leaves turning in September, but now it seems
like that color doesn't pop out till November. And one thing I've
always wondered about: when the leaves fall, what makes some of them
hold on and stick it out through the winter? It's not something I've
lost sleep over, mind you, but I do wonder about it every now 'n then.

I'm enjoying this overcast day. It's like one of the Steel Magnolias
said: When God doesn't try so hard, I don't feel like I have to either.

Something like that.

I saw some Mint Julep something-or-other in the beauty section of the
drugstore the other day. Foot cream. Or maybe it was face cream. I
don't know, but when I get a minute, I think I'll run on back over and
pick up some to take with me to Miss Etta's upcoming Bourbon
Blasterbration.

Till next time.

Miz Vul

Tuesday, August 26, 2008

Get Ready to Party on My Porch

Whooppppppeeeeeee. Finally, someone in an official capacity is honoring my spirit.

The governor of Kentucky has declared September as "Bourbon Heritage Month." He's even recognizing Bourban as Americas Native Spirit thus honoring the family heritage and deep-rooted legacy of the Bourbon industry in Kentucky. Well, good for him.

That got me to thinking. Why doesn't the federal government also celebrate this spirit of American culture? Well, to my surprise, just last year the U.S. Senate declared September as "National Bourbon Heritage Month."

So come on over gals, this calls for a toast with my special julep juice!

Miss Etta

Thursday, August 7, 2008

Gotta Make It While the Sun is Shining

Gals,

Glad to finally hear from ya'll. I'm much too busy right now to set a spell. The sun is shining, and with all the recent rain--- guess what I'm doing?

Of course-- making julep juice. Gotta make it while the mint is fresh off the vine. Why, the mint has been overtaking everything so much that the mister told me to make something out of it or he was gonna cut it down!!

Well, after I finished having my stroke and an attack of the vapors, I glared mightily at the ole coot. I got busy making my juice, but it's been hard with all the stomping of feet and huffing. Why, the very nerve of even a hint of throwing out my mint!

Here's the recipe I'm using right now for the juice:

1 c. sugar
1 c. water
Bring to a boil. Add 12 fresh mint sprigs. Cool and discard leaves.

Pack a glass with ice. Add 1 tablespoon of the sugar-mint juice and throw in an equal amount of bourban. Add water to fill the glass. Sprinkle with powdered sugar.

Thought that I would try and make up a BIG batch of the starter juice and freeze it in ice cube containers. That way, all I have to do is grab an ice cube, add the special B and water.

Whatcha think about that? You with me?

Miss Etta

Wednesday, August 6, 2008

My turn to be alone?

I know I most likely expect way to much given how sporatic I have been about setting on the porch over the summer time, but it would be so nice to have company now that I'm back.

I have had such a delightful time this summer! I won't bore you with all the many things I've done though as they kept my little pea-brain occupied but would most likely force my Julep sisters to hide their yawns behind a large glass of cold ice tea (or something with a bit more bite perhaps?).

I am home to stay for a while and hope we can all resume our chats. I will have to say that I am not too very happy with some of the changes that have occured in our fair county while I have been gone! Lest you chasten me unneccesarily, I will tell you that I did my duty and voted absentee in both elections. I was not overjoyed with the outcome of the elections, however I have been in this world long enough to know that life goes in cycles, not all of them to my liking.

Well, come sit, come share and lets talk about this great big beautiful world together!

Wednesday, July 30, 2008

Depression is all in the mind...

I think we have just moved way too far up Maslow's Heirarchy and have way, way too much time on our hands. All of a sudden we get to lookin' round and we're sitting up there on that pinnacle and we're bored. Or we have more stuff than we need and we've reached those goals or just quit bothering to set them and we get to thinking we're depressed. Some of us are brung up thinking we've got to have more, more, more and we can never live up to those expectations that are slammed in our face every time we open a magazine or turn on the boob-tube. We get depressed 'cause we're never going to get there.

It's all just a bunch of hullabaloo. I think the drug companies like to make us think we just gotta be happy all the time. Well durn it, life has ups and downs. We can't always walk around with a big ol' smile plastered on our face and be happy. It just ain't life.

These people in this country want to know what's depressing they oughta go live in Africa or some other country for a while and they'll figure out real quick what depression is all about.

We get depressed if we don't have two tv's and three cars.

I figured out a long long time ago that I could walk through life feeling poor me-like or I could decide to be happy. Being depressed is darned addictive. It's great to sit around and feel sorry for yourself. Especially if you get in one of those groups that helps you, or so they say. You sit around telling each other how bad you feel and pretty soon you get to enjoyin' feeling that bad and you don't even realize it.

When I was young and I'd start getting down in the mouth and feeling bored and pitiful my Mama would hand me a broom and tell me to go sweep the back porch. I think we need to get these depressed people to find something to do to help somebody else and they'll start to feeling pretty good about their own situation. Go down to the homeless shelter and help feed people once a week for about six months and you'll find out just how happy you can be.

Guess what gals? I'm back! I've missed you all but I sure haven't been depressed for one single day.

Miss Faye

Monday, July 28, 2008

D is for

Hey Girls,

I've been taking a little Vulcation (like my newly-minted word?) this
morning: been cruising the internet reading blogs written by other
gals (so much so I have a cramp in my right elbow), and I notice 2
things:

1. These gals are GOOD wordslingers.
2. These gals are depressed.

Now let me just stop right here and say for the record: it's not just
females who are depressed. There seems to be a veritable epidemic of
depression these days. Seems like everybody I know or am related to or
both is at least a little on the D side of things. Used to be that
being depressed was something you and yours kept quiet, like it was
something to be embarrassed about, something to be ashamed of. That's
not the case now - THANK GOODNESS - and maybe that openness, that
willingness to talk about it will help answer me this: why is it
depression seems to be running absolutely rampant these days? I, being
who I am, want to know WHY. Why so many wonderful, talented, creative,
intelligent, genuinely good people are depressed - not just blue or
sad or down but flat-out depressed.

Is it something physical like we're not getting enough exercise?

Or is it something psychological like we don't have effective coping
skills or maybe we have unreasonable expectations?

Or is it something physiological like our bodies are squirting out too
much of one juice (hormones, neuropeptides, etc.) and/or not enough of
another?

Or (and you both KNEW I'd get to this, didn't you? Go ahead: admit
it.) is it something They put in our parents' drinking water? Or
something They loaded into those free cigarettes? Or something They
put on the fruit pieces used to mess up perfectly good lunchroom Jell-o?

Girlfriends, if we don't do something about whatever causes
depression, pretty soon those who are not depressed (be that of
natural causes or sheer, unadulterated determination) will be the ones
getting the diagnosis and subsequent pills.

I'm just saying.

Miz Vul

Sunday, July 20, 2008

Buried and Forgotten??

Lawdy Miss Etta,

Remember me? Why, I used to come and sit on your porch for our daily talks. I just loved them so. And, I do remember the fine punch you would serve.

Guess you thought I was dead. Dead and buried. Well, I am still kicking, but I have been buried. I'm spending most of my mornings try to dig my way out of all the mail that my good neighbor has been sending. How many good neighbors are there around here? Way too many, I think. And don't they know that filling my mailbox with the same letter from several of them a day is the best way to make sure I don't spend any of my precious coins at their doorstep?

Of course, I have to wonder if you have been getting all those letters?

Hope to hear from you soon,
Georgia gal

Friday, June 20, 2008

Days of Celebration

My. oh my, Miss Faye. You really had me going there. I was convinced something bad had happened to you, otherwise you would never, ever leave me sitting here all alone on the porch. Yep, and rehab sure enough would do it. Who could ever take away my special julep juice? Who would ever try?

It's the first day of summer and I'm in love. Yep, you heard me. I'm in love with the cool morning air that's been my companion for the last couple of mornings. Summer is here, let the celebrations begin!

Did you know that yesterday was National Martini Day? Now, I've never ascribed to martinis, although I did like to hear Dean sing while holding his martini. Somebody recently told me he was from some small town in Pennsylvania and they remembered seeing him perform-- before he got famous and all.

Martini Day? What about Julep Day? Don't we need to start campaigning for one?

You gals been following all the campaign news lately? Fascinating, I say. And as soon as I remember what I was gonna say, I will. In the meantime, best go refill my juice glass.

Enjoy the summer sun, my friends.

Miss Etta

Thursday, June 19, 2008

Finally out of rehab...

Well, one too many mint juleps and they toss you in the loony bin and try to dry a bodies bourbon soaked body right out. I promise it had nothing to do with my actions sans julep. Can you believe they actually thought my crazy antics had something to do with all the juleps I'd been sipping? Ha. Little did they know. The only thing that keeps me sane is the time on the porch with you ladies. I am SO glad to be out and in the land of the ladies. I absolutely could not wait to get back out here on the porch with you lovely ladies to commiserate and, of course, have another darned mint julep.

Not really. Just thought I'd come up with a creative reason for not writing for so long. You should know me well enough by now to know that I am always restrained and lady-like and would never let me mint julep sipping get out of hand. Yes, I am pulling your leg again. A little imp has taken hold of my nature of late and I just can't seem to settle down and be proper.

I read a book a long time ago that I believe was titled "When I am old I shall wear purple". I have to confess all I did was skim though it but I loved the idea in the poem of the same title. It's all about doing whatever you want when you get older. You can be a batty old woman and wear purple and red (I suppose the red-hat ladies are somehow connected with that poem now that I think about the colors). I've lived that philosophy all of my life. As I get older mayhaps I'll start to wear sober colors just to be different.

The Red Hat ladies (I do believe it should be capitalized) have so much fun. It has really taken off as a club or organization, I'm not sure what category it should fall into. I think we should form our own mint-julep group. It seems everyone is banding together in some sort of fellowship these days. I wonder if the need to be part of a group has something to do with the way society has changed and is continuing to change? It used to be that everyone knew everyone. People grew up being part of a group in most cases. As time has gone on and we have families scattered all over the country, people moving and losing connections, cultures intermingling, the north and the south co-mixing to the point where it's hard to find a good southern accent any more and I could go on and on with examples of how we are losing those old ties that bind. Now we create groups and bind.

It's hard to say whether the changes that are happening in our society are good or bad. There is a mix I think of good, bad and potentially bad. We seem to be able to adapt to the changes, hence the need to join a group to replace those bonds that seem to be part of human nature. I suppose I could go on speculating about what is going on in our world for eons. Only time will tell whether it's good or bad. Jimmy Buffet has a line in one of his songs that is somewhat similar to that last line.

I had to take a short break and go find the song I just referred to by Mr. Buffet. I will leave you with the lyrics and I will leave you wondering where I have been for so many long days. I have run out of time to write and will have to leave you in suspense.

Scales and clocks just can't be trusted
Keys and locks are destined to be busted
Metaphors were never made for keeping score
And I'm feeling for the sound of time

hoo hoo hoo hoo
hoo hoo hoo hoo
hoo hoo hoo hoo
hoo hoo hoo hoo

Is it the answer or just a suggestion
Is love what we truly want or merely a protection
Is this music made to last or crumble like a shell
Is there heaven here on earth or is this really hell

Only time will tell if I am right or I am wrong
Only time will tell is there a message in this song
Will it ever make sense will it ever ring a bell
Only time will tell

hoo hoo hoo hoo
hoo hoo hoo hoo
hoo hoo hoo hoo
hoo hoo hoo hoo

Are we destined to be ruled by a bunch of old white men
Who compare the world to football and are programmed to defend
I'd like to try a princess or a non-terrestrial
Who is neither boast nor bashful is there really such a girl

Only time will tell if I am right or I am wrong
Only time will tell is there a message in this song
Will it ever make sense will it ever ring a bell
Only time will tell

I woke up this morning feeling absolutely grand
For nearly half a century I've been singing in a band
I'd like to think I'll make it to two thousand and one
Will the party be at my house God I wonder who will come

Only time will tell if I am right or I am wrong
Only time will tell is there a message in this song
Will it ever make sense will it ever ring a bell
Only time will tell

Only time will tell if I am right or I am wrong
Only time will tell is there a message in this song
Will it ever make sense on this crazy carousel
Only time will tell

(I left out the last bunch of hoo hoo's. Hoo cares unless you're going to sing the song, then you can figure it out yourself that more hoo hoos are needed).

Miss Faye
ta da!

Tuesday, May 27, 2008

Red, White and Blue Fits

Didcha enjoy the big holiday yesterday? Didcha remember to honor our fallen soldiers? Didcha shed a few tears? I certainly did.

Why, that ceremony in Peachtree City alone was enough to set me bawling for the whole day. I had to use up all of my white tissues in the hopes my cries were stifled somewhat. I just always seem to find my heart up in my throat in these affairs. I guess it's because I mourn the loss of them all. I guess I just love America so darn much.

Well, that started off the day. I ended up by having some "blue with my red." Yep, nothing finer on a gorgeous day than a nice thick juicy red slab of meat done up on the grill. Add some homemade blue cheese butter and, yummy! The blue cheese just makes the beef taste explode into a mouthful of savory delights.

And, of course, what would a celebration be without my own julep juice? I spent hours getting my julep syrup prepared with just the right amount of sugar. It was pretty good, even if I do say so myself.

Now that the summer is officially here, I expect to hear from my friends. Kinda odd isn't it? Memorial Day starts the summer season even though the calendar doesn't start it until later in June. I think I'll take the Memorial Day start and then end it when the calendar does in late September. I'd much rather have a long summer!

Miss Etta

Friday, May 23, 2008

Off To The Races

Hey friends,

Sorry I've been quiet. I've been off to the races.

Races for time. Races to leisure. Just racing around in circles....

Ya'll have a great Memorial Day Weekend. I saw on the Fayette Front Page the prayer offered by President Bush for this very special day in history. You should check it out.

Look for me on Monday while I'm honoring my family heroes and those of America!

Miss Etta

Sunday, May 11, 2008

Life Will Go On, My Friend

Oh Miz Vul,

I am so deeply saddened to hear a friend was a victim of pain. It is
horrible and it just breaks my heart.

I remember a young girl who was also attacked about 40 years ago.
Some said it was because she wore white go-go boots. Some said it
was because she strayed too far from home. Some tried to ignore it.
Some thought she'd just forget about it. Don't think so.

Well, I am here to tell you that it wasn't because of the white go-go
boots. It wasn't because she strayed too far from home. Nope, the
reality was she was riding her bicycle on a hot summer day. The
reality was she was the victim of some young tough's need to
dominate. The reality was she survived. The reality was the young
tough was caught. The reality was it WAS NOT HER FAULT!

I still don't know what happened to the young tough. The last I saw
him was in the back seat of the police car. 'Nuff said.

Surround your friend with love and understanding. Surround her with
hope for the future.

Friday, May 9, 2008

Packing Claxtons

Miss Etta, I HAVE been having a thoughtful day. Been having a string
of them, actually . . .

Somebody I love deeply was recently the victim of a crime. Let's be
real clear about this: a crime was committed against HER. And while
she struggles still to move forward and eventually leave it behind
her, there are these two local women who insist on, as my Daddy used
to say, kicking her while she's down.

Can somebody please explain to me why that is? Why is it that when a
woman is the victim of a crime, some folks insist on making her the
CRIMINAL, too?

I was talking to Janet Dunn the other day, you know, the editor of
FayetteFrontPage.com, and she said that more people subscribe to the
helping hands blog than any other blog. Now that's good: people are
wanting to help other people, and lord knows there are plenty of folks
needing help these days.

It's good to share food and clothes and household items with those in
need. It's fantastic to help folks put together a resume and find a
good job. But what about helping individual people you run into while
you're out and about? What about folks you know who might be in need
of something as seemingly simple as kindness - maybe a hug the next
time you see them, maybe a quick email to say thinking about you,
maybe just a genuine heartfelt smile? Random acts of kindness are
fantastic, and I encourage them, but let's don't ever, ever, ever lose
sight of DELIBERATE acts of kindness Let's never forget that some
folks, maybe even most folks we see on any given day are carrying
around some kind of emotional need.

I tell you what: I think when a woman is the victim of a crime, we
ought to hold hands, form a large circle around her and say to no-
gooders "How DARE you." and "Don't even think about bothering her
right now." and to her: "Sugar, is there anything I can do?" and "Can
I get you anything?" Maybe even take her to get her hair and nails
done 'cause we all know that makes a girl feel so much better.

Yes, I think we ought to do things like that, NOT take potshots at HER
and throw rocks at HER. So what if an attractive young woman was in a
restaurant/bar? So what if she was wearing a sun dress (not a halter
dress, a sundress)? So what if she was wearing black patent leather
pumps? So what if she has long blonde hair? So what if she is drop
dead gorgeous? Does that make the crime HER fault? Don't women (and
men, too, but I'm talking about women right now) have the right to be
safe when they go out? Don't they have the right to go to a public
place to socialize with friends? Don't they have a right to wear black
patent leather pumps and lipstick?

Woman's inhumanity to woman . . . where does that come from?

If I live to be 1128-and-a-half years old, I will NEVER understand
this, fellow julep-sippers. It's a language I have never and will
never, by golly, become fluent in, this women spitting and slapping
and backbiting and hissing at other women.

What ever happened to EMPATHY?

I have tried to be philosophical about this, girls. Really I have. I
understand that people like to find meaning in everything (though I
surely can't see how re-victimizing the victim finds meaning in a damn
thing), and I know that thinking is a dying art (don't even get me
started - another subject for another day, girls). I know that black
and white type stuff is preferable cause it's so much easier to think
about and move on, but really: how much of life is that simple? Gray
is a color near and dear to my Southern, Confederate heart, and let's
face it: most of life is lived in the gray. Gray is, in my never-to-be-
persuaded-otherwise opinion, a wonderful, delicious, rich color that's
filled with possibilities and room to think and be individuals.

You know, my mother had this sister who gave Claxton fruitcakes as
Christmas gifts every single year. She'd drive on down to Claxton and
fill up the back of her car during the After-Christmas Claxton
Fruitcake Sale. Then she'd bring them babies home and load up her
freezer with them. In her mind, it was perfect: she saved money,
finished her shopping way early, and she never once forgot where she
stashed the bought-early gifts. (Personally, I always wondered if her
husband - the DENTIST - didn't pay for them out of his marketing
account, thereby saving/making even more money. Did you ever bite into
a year-old frozen Claxton fruicake???)

Now, Miss Etta, I know you mentioned Claxton fruitcakes a week or so
ago, and I mean no disrespect when I tell you that over the past
several weeks, I have fantasized more times than I can count about
hurling some of those year-old, frozen Claxton fruitcakes at a couple
of local womenfolk in hopes of knocking some sense in their heads.

If only I were licensed to carry Claxtons.

But I'm not, so I'm going on back to the front porch to swing and sip
something a wee bit (okay, a pretty good bit) (okay, a LOT) stronger
than a julep. Helps me think.

Miz Vul

Thursday, May 8, 2008

Morning Reflections and Observations

It's been real quiet on my porch lately. Guess I'm alright with the solitude as it has given me time to reflect and observe. This morning while I was sitting on the porch drinking my daily dose of caffeine and wondering about what to do for the day, my eyes were suddenly drawn to a duel.

It's the kind of duel where we mothers shudder our shoulders when we see it. A little baby was abducted. Now, before you go running to the phone to put out an all points bulletin-- wait to see what I have to say.

The commotion all started when the young mother took off for her morning work-- providing breakfast for her babies. They were all squalling up a storm, when all of a sudden-- a big swoop dove in. Yep, a red tailed hawk who lives back behind my house was also looking for his breakfast and spotted it.

He swooped right in and started tugging the little baby bird right out of the nest. He was pulling and the other babies were really crying at this point. It got the mama's attention. She comes flying in a very quick speed. Why, it was probably faster than Superman could have done it.

The hawk, with his breakfast secured in his claws, takes off. The mama bird chases him. She is yelling and saying all kinds of bad things about that intruder. Alas, she returned back to her nest empty clawed. No baby rescued.

Will she mourn the little tyke who had not had time to spread his little wings and fly? Will she stay closer to home to protect the others who are still in her nest? Now, I ponder while I finish the morning coffee.

Nature is fascinating to observe. Guess that is what I'll do today. What else will I see while I wait for my friends to show up?

Have a thoughtful day.

Miss Etta

Saturday, May 3, 2008

Official Mint Julep Day

It's Mint Julep Day! This is the weekend in history that made mint
juleps famous! Did you hear? They made $1000 mint juleps today at
the Derby. Outrageous!

It was for a great cause-- something to do with retired race horses.

Bet it would have been a treat. Bet it would have been extra
special. Oh well, I guess I just have to enjoy my own recipe today.

Hey Miss Faye- I saw your mint patch the other day. Can't wait for
it to come in. Maybe we can come up with a worthy cause for our mint
juleps!

Miss Etta

Thursday, May 1, 2008

Here Snakey, Snakey

Sitting on my front porch watching life is one of my favorite things
to do. I really enjoy my old creaky rocker, especially when I have a
tall icy glass of mint julep to sip. I sit and relax and well, just
observe. Today, I watched as my kitty observed his prey, and watched
as kitty played with his prey.

Kitty's prey was a slithery thing. You know, one of those things
that makes me go "yuk". So there was absolutely no way I was gonna
interfere with that game!

Kinda reminds me of several memories which are stuck way back in the
nether regions of my head. It gets really hard to pull out these
memories as they are stuck in the "yuk" category. However, since it
is May Day and I have nothing to do but enjoy it, I will take a
deeper look-see in there and see what pops up.

You gals ever go to a Rattlesnake Roundup? Now I don't mean the kind
nowadays where they have crafts, dances and who-knows-what-going-on.
I mean the kind they used to have 30 years ago. The kind where the
brave hunters showcased their dead prey on their mailboxes. What?
You never ever saw rattlesnakes hanging on the mailbox?

Way back when, down in south Georgia down around the Claxton area,
that was a common sight in the spring. You would just be driving
along minding your own beeswax when you would start passing all those
houses with rattlesnakes hanging on the mailbox. Guess it was so
everyone could see how many you killed and how big they were. Before
you go running off the porch in sheer terror, remember that those bad
boys could really be a menace to a farmer.

Yeah, I know. Claxton is also famous for those fruitcakes. Wonder
what they put in them?

You gals have a great day now. Oh, and by the way, kitty's new
friend was a small copperhead. Yep, kitty can play that game any ole
time he wants.

Miss Etta

Sunday, April 27, 2008

No gator tails, uh, tales...

No gater tales or tails, no gator-ade tales either. I wracked my little pea-brain trying to come up with something to contribute but nary a gator of any sort rose to the surface. If things go as they normally will, once we've exhausted gators I'll remember some outrageous tale from the nether regions of my mind.

Ah well.

As wet as it is this day I can easily envision gators wandering around yards, although this is more akin to salamander weather I think.

Do you remember those little tiny frogs that used to come out in the rain? There was a name for those little buggers but I'll be darned if I can remember. If the sun came out too fast we'd find them all dried up on the driveway. Seemed like there would be thousands of them hopping in the puddles sometimes. Now that I've remembered them, I'd surely like to know what they were called. I know we called them rain frogs, but there is another name of some sort. I will hop on over to Google and see if I can dredge it up.

What have ya'll been up to recently? I've been here and there enjoying life. Don't we live in such a beautiful world? Have you ever wondered if it's really that beautiful or if it's just something that we SEE as beautiful because we're accustomed to it? The old beauty is in the eye of the beholder thing. If we were raised on the moon would all these trees and water be ugly to us?

That reminded me of people's tastes in music. From country to country music is so completely different. What sounds like high-pitched screaming to me is beautiful to some in Asian cultures. I don't particularly care for much of the Hip Hop music that is so popular with some, but others love it.

Remember when you were growing up and "our" music was horrible to our parents? The music they listened to as youngsters was abhorrent to their parents.

As usual, my mind is skipping from one subject to another. It's like little firing pins just pinging away, sparking thoughts that may or may not be worth sharing! I used to drive my poor mama crazy yapping away about all kinds of nonsense. I have grown up just a bit and now I keep my mouth shut most days. For some reason when I start writing to my two Mint Julep friends in here some of the flitting, yammering, wide-spread thoughts come a tumbling.

Which reminds me of the time I bought a rock tumbler for my children. It lasted all of one day before I stuck it in a closet never to be pulled out. We were living in a small enough place that there was nowhere to put the noise-maker where we couldn't hear it. We did one batch and that was it. The kids didn't even complain. I mean, how could they after listening to the thing for so long?

We did make a few trips to pan for gold up in Dahlonega, Georgia. Rather easy to see through what they were doing, planting gems in piles of sand. But it entertained the kiddos and thrilled them to no end when they "found" a beauty.

Well, enough rambling for today, I think I might just take a stroll in the rain. I may just be a mite naughty and fix myself a bit of something interesting to drink. I know it may shock you, but I am not in the mood for a mint julep at this moment, I think something a bit more along the lines of a White Russian fits the mood, or maybe just a thimble of Bailey's.

I always enjoy sharing with you gals!
Miss Faye

In-house Sightings

Good grief, Miss Etta. That alligator story - the one in the lake in
north Georgia. Do you ever again swim in a body of water where you
couldn't see the bottom? Just gave me shivers thinking about how close
you've come to alligators who are supposed to be able to move
surprisingly fast when chasing food. Best to run serpentine, I've
always heard, when trying to escape a hungry gator.

My husband's parents had a house down Florida-way where lizards are
known to hang out in droves. When some of his daddy's people from
Pennsylvania spent a week down at that house in Florida, they left a
note on the table saying how much they'd enjoyed their stay and
apologizing for letting the "alligator bug" get inside for a short
while. Alligator bug. Lizard. Get it?

Funny you mentioned this woman who spotted the alligator in her
kitchen. Can you imagine? I sure do hope she was wearing some kind of
shoes. Shoes with good traction for running away.

My grandmother was TERRIFIED of lizards. Living in the country, it
wasn't at all unusual for one of them to come right on in her house,
and when they did, they were treated to pans of hot, boiling water
being tossed in their direction. I have no idea how she came up with
this idea of The Only Sensible Way To Get Rid Of Lizards, but let me
tell you: that woman would drench everything - and i do mean
EVERYTHING - without regard for ruin or cleanup. Drapes, bedspreads,
clothes, furniture, television - nothing was scared when a lizard came
to call. I can still see her standing in the middle of the bed, the
room around her looking like a steam-tornado had come through there.

And I never felt closer to my grandmother than I did last week when I
went to hang up some clothes after taking them out of the dryer. As I
hung them on the clothes rack, out skipped a lizard. I dropped those
clothes and bolted, instinctively heading for the kitchen where I had
every intention of boiling water to toss around. Fortunately, our
laundry room is upstairs, and by the time I got downstairs to the
kitchen, good sense took over. (That and the realization that I'd just
have created a mess that I'd have to clean up once the aforementioned
trespasser was gone.) I opted to just avoid the laundry room the rest
of the day. That night, when I went in to finish fetching the laundry,
I made LOTS of noise to alert the little trespasser of my arrival. I
looked at the hanger-upper rack: no lizard, and I was greatly relieved.

Now why on earth I thought the trespasser would stay in one place is
beyond me, but, as they say, hindsight (or in this case, hindthink) is
20/20. When I went to fetch a clothes hanger, I ALMOST TOUCHED THE
TRESPASSER who was hanging out on the clothes hangers. Makes me shiver
just to think about how close I came to making contact. Sheesh. Called
hubbie, who came up promptly and caught the unwanted visitor then
relocated him to his native territory - outdoors - where I imagine he
is regaling other alligator bugs with tales of this crazy womankind
who he spooked so mightily.

Yep, I just don't have a thing for reptiles, be they at the zoo, live
and in person, or on jewelry, boots, or pocketbooks.

Sheesh.

Later girlfriends,
Miz Vul

Wednesday, April 23, 2008

Gator Moments

I bet the lady who strolled into her kitchen just the other day to
get a fresh cup of coffee will entertain her family and friends for a
a long time as she recounts the 6 foot, 230 pound gator lounging on
the floor. I guess it was just hungry and decided the smell was just
right for breakfast. I wonder how he got in? It's not like they can
slide under the door. If I was that lady, I'd be sure to gator proof
the doors. Can you imagine the shock and horror, not to mention the
FEAR, when she saw that huge ancient reptilian animal in her
kitchen? What does one say in that situation? "Hey, wanna cup of
joe?" or "If I had known you were coming, I would have gotten you
some chicken?"

What I found really side splitting is the question by the 911
operator. "Are you sure it's not a big lizard?" Big lizard, indeed.
Most people who live in gator country don't have a problem telling a
lizard from a gator. I know I never had any problems with that when
I was down in gator country or at Georgia's Swampland in the south
part of the state.

I've got two personal gator encounters on the tip of my tongue. One
was down in south GA at the Okeefeenokee Swamp about 30 years ago.
We had gone to visit the swamp and learn more of nature. Well, you
know they've got these big gators down there that just kind of roam
around on their own. Roaming around with those beady eyes staring
intently on you. We watched some brain dead parents allow their two
young gator sized meal youngins taunt a big boy. And by big boy, I
don't mean one with two feet. No sir, it was about a 12 or 13 ft
menacing looking gator who was intent on watching the kids. Watching
and slowly stalking the kids. The kids were taunting, the gator was
slowing stalking, and the park rangers were standing there with their
guns on their hips. Well, daddy and my brother's wife were watching
this free show while the rest of us were in the snake house learning
about how dangerous those slithery critters can be.

Meanwhile, the park rangers were trying to get the gator's attention
off of the youngins. Daddy decided it might be best if he and sister-
by-marriage crossed over the bridge to the side where the gator
wasn't. He thought it might be a little safer over there. After
they crossed the bridge, the mightily relieved sweating sister-by-
marriage said she was glad to put some distance between them and the
gator. Daddy, of course, said, "I already did that." When she
looked confused, he continued, "Didn't you notice that I put you
between the gator and me?"

What happened to that gator on that particular day? The park finally
convinced the brain dead parents that the ignoramus youngins had to
leave the area and then the rangers successfully got the gator back
to where they wanted him. We did hear later that the big boy had to
be put down since he was becoming too aggressive with the paying
customers to the swamp. Guess, that would be bad for business and all.

Another gator story that happened a little further north in
Georgia--- still about 30 years ago. There was a state park where
we used to go camping. That was in the days when daddy could
actually get away from the phone. No cell phones, doncha know. We
were camping and had our canoe with us. Daddy and I had taken our
poodle, the one named Killer, on the canoe for a ride and. later, a
swim. The park rangers came upon us on the water. They suggested we
leave the water immediately. Why? Clear blue skies. We weren't
breaking any laws.

It seems as if the original owner of the lake had gone down to
Florida and bought some baby gators back. He stocked his lake with
gators as an effort to keep the locals from trespassing on his land
and fishing in the lake. Now, I don't know when the state acquired
the lake and surrounding area for a state park, however, i do know
the state couldn't touch those gators. Something about endangered
species and all. So, there were these gators between 8-14 feet just
patrolling the lake. Since small dogs are known to be gator bait,
the rangers had us leave the lake. They just didn't want us to
attract the gators and have us end up being their dinner.

We did leave the water, and we did see the gators on shore as we were
heading back to land. I was so upset that we ended up leaving the
waterfront campsite we had. Something about gators visiting us for
dinner, guests or otherwise, made us all a little nervous. The
rangers came by later to tell us they had herded the gators back up
to the north end of the lake.

Now, I wonder HOW did they do that? How does one herd a gator? How
does one get a gator's attention off his intended meal?

I still think they look their best when I'm carrying them on my arm
stuffed with my personal stuff. I think that's a better stuffing for
them.

Enjoy this beautiful weather! I haven't heard of gator hunting
around these parts, have you?

Till later,
Miss Etta

Friday, April 18, 2008

What a glorious day... for an apology, a real apology

Oh, it is such a gloriously beautiful day today! All I want to do is bask in the sunshine, play in the garden or walk in the woods. However, I have decided to be a good girl and write to my Mint Julep sisters! Yes, I know, it is about darn time isn't it?

Well, I have been off gallivanting. I suppose someday I'll break down and get one of those contraptions that allows you to communicate with anyone at any time, but that time is not yet here.

I was struck by Miz Vul's comments on apologies. I have a very big pet peeve when it comes to apologies. Don't you hate it when someone apologizes by saying "I deeply regret if anything I have done offended anyone" or "I apologize if my statements caused anyone harm" or some variation? They neglect to apologize for what they did, they're just saying they're sorry that you are so dumb that it bothered you.

They obviously feel not the first bit of regret for their actions. They take no responsibility for what they've done.

What really steams me is that people buy it. How many politicians apologize in that manner? Most of them.

We seem to be living in a society that does not believe in consequences for inappropriate actions. It is as though the word "sorry" rolling off the tongue absolves a person. How many times have you heard someone say "well, he / she apologized"? If someone acts sincere enough in their so-called apology the world is willing to give them a pass. Ha!

Oh, and what about those who include an excuse in their apology? My hair fell flat and the hem raveled on my dress, so when I trashed your reputation, I was just having a bad day? I am so sorry I was nasty, my dog dies three years ago and I'm still in mourning? I came from a single parent home and it scarred me for life, thus I continue to do and say horrible things, but I am just as sorry as I can be each time I slip?

I don't know about you gals, but if you are truly contrite you change your ways, you make sincere amends and you eat a bit of crow.

You will note that I have not apologized for not writing for the past while. I have every intention of changing my ways, but I am not sure enough of the fact to offer an apology.

You all have a wonderful weekend and go out and enjoy the sunshine while it is here! Not only does it feel good, it is good for you.

Miss Faye
(now don't go having a heart attack just because I am actually writing)

Thursday, April 17, 2008

From My Recipe Book

This morning, girls, I've got recipes on my mind. Here's what we're
having for supper:

l. Take an onion, peel the sucker, and cut it in half. Place the 2
halves in the bottom of that crockpot you finally washed.
2. Go post yet another sticky note to yourself to buy one of those
newer crockpots that can be washed in the dishwasher. Sigh and get
over the fact that lucky you just happened to get the one well-built
crockpot that, like some rumors, is just never gonna' die.
3. Place a pork roast on top of the onion halves, add a little bit of
water, put the lid on the crockpot, plug it in, turn it on low, and go
about your business.
4. When you're ready to eat, take the roast out and pull it apart with
a coupla forks, kinda' like you're shredding it, dontcha know. Serve
with your favorite barbecue sauce and a side of waldorf salad.

Preparation time: 4.12 minutes - and that includes the sticky note step.

~~~

I've also been thinking of late about a recipe for apologies:

1. Say what you're sorry for, then hush. Zip it. Be quiet.
2. Make sure your apology does NOT contain the word "but". "But" is an
eraser that eliminates everything before it, and once you stick that
little ole' bitty word into an apology, you go from apologizing to
defending your position. Not the same thing. Not at all.
3. When eating crow, remember that it goes down better with a heapin'
helpin' of sincerity. Apologize sincerely then get on with it and try
your deadlevel best to not have to repeat that particular apology.

That's what I'm thinking about this morning, girlfriends. Hope y'all
are doing swell and not sneezing too much.

Miz Vul

Sunday, April 6, 2008

Pollen Clouds and Yalla Cars

O Friends of mine,

Been enjoying the scenery? Riding around under all the Cherry Trees
and Dogwood Trees while they are in full bloom just makes me bloom.
Why, I sometimes just have to stop the car and cast adoring looks to
the trees. I love it. I praise God evvveeeerrrry time I see the
splendor of the blossoms. It's beautiful, it's... ahhhhh choooooo.

When I was growing up, my mama always insisted to having a light or
yalla car. I found the color boring until the spring time. At that
time, when the pollen was out and about in all its glory, we had a
car that looked clean. Yep, the pollen didn't even bother the color
of the car. We used to just laugh and laugh at all the people who
had those screaming yalla embossed cars.

Of course, having a white or yalla car is a good thing when you
happen to live in kaolin country. All that white chalk dust blowing
around. Gets on everything. Kaolin or "white gold" settles on
everything all year around. Dark cars and kaolin mines just don't go
hand in hand. You gals know much about white gold? I have some in my
garage from the last time I went down to kaolin country and took the
kids to see a bonafide kaolin mine. We went right on down into one of
them and had the owner of the land tell us about the operation.

Speaking of swirling clouds, when I was driving home on Friday, I got
caught up in a pollen cloud. It was downright eerie. Everything was
yalla and swirling around. We rolled up the windows to the car cause
I didn't want it in the car. It was like we had on yalla
sunglasses. And then the rains came. Thank you!!! I can't wait to
get back out today and see how all the blossoms look today. I bet
they are holding their little petals up high now that they had a
really good bath. You know, after it rains, I swear I can see the
trees, flowers and all things green stand up tall and thank the
Creator. How 'bout you?

Till later,
Miss Etta

Thursday, April 3, 2008

Shades of Green

Hey girls,

Are y'all feeling the effects of the POLLEN? I declare: on the rare
occasion I have to venture out, there's so much pollen in the air, it
looks like somebody's cutting their dirt. I'm relatively new to
allergies, and this is no fun. No fun at all. While all around me I
see signs of life budding, hear about people who are clearing out and
feeling all rejuvenated, it's all I can do to drag my own self from
the bed to the sofa and back to the bed. And every time I swallow, my
right ear sounds like somebody's taking a plunger to it.

I haven't even had the t.v. on while laying around in my pollen-
infested state, so I don't know anything I can comment on. Hubbie did
send me an email the other day about some fella who says Hillary has
been a liar for a long time.

Like that's big news.

How you girls faring out there in our yellowish-green world?

Miz Vul

Tuesday, March 18, 2008

Knee Slapping Times

Do tell! Do tell!

I'm right there with ya on the press conference scene if that had
been my Mister. Why, I'm not even sure I would have said he was even
in the hospital. Nope. I got big brothers. And I've got a slew of
'em. Nuff said.

Oh, the sheer madness and insanity of it all. How is that people
think they are above the law? How is that politicians seem not to
understand the law and what happens WHEN they get caught with THEIR
hands in the cookie jar? How is that a candidate can have 20 year
ties with someone as a mentor and not agree with them? Come on.
Hey, I've got some land for sale. And, I know widows in East Bumble.

Oh, better watch out for those noses-- they're gonna grow by miles,
not just inches.

Didcha enjoy St. Paddy's Day? We had to have our traditional meal
yesterday. What, with me being Irish and all. My mouth was just
salivating and I was having to lick my chops as I prepared the
standard corn beef, coddles and soda bread. I could have eaten it
all day. Wait-- maybe I did.

Although, I have to tell ya that I draw the line at green eggs. I
tried to eat them once when I was in Savannah for the big day. Just
couldn't do it. No sir. Just couldn't put molded eggs in my mouth.
Green grits? As long as they are the right shade of green, I'll
gobble them down. Just gotta watch out for when they are kinda black
and green.

You ladies ever go to Savannah for the big day? Ah, I used to love
it there. All the excitement. All the people. All the green beer.
All the waiting in line for bladder relief. Guess they should have
had those senior adult type unmentionables. Bet they would sell
right well down there. Better than finding a secluded spot. Not
that I'm saying I ever did....

All this talk of green is making my mouth water. Better go find some
fresh mint for my juice. Aren't you glad the weather is warming up
now? Soon, my little plot of mint will be prospering and ready to
pop into my juice. Do you prefer the spearmint or the peppermint for
your julep juice?

Whatcha making for Easter? Think I'll have some Sunday Bourban
Taters on my menu. And maybe a triple strawberry cake. Some fresh
soda bread with blue cheese butter. A little julep juice..... Ah--

Miss Etta

Friday, March 14, 2008

Spitzer, Democrats and Obama

Oh.

My.

Goodness.

What a mess of trouble the Democrats seem to be having.

First, I have to tell you how the press conference would have gone if I were married to New York Governor Spitzer.

"I'm not sorry to tell you that my SOB lying cheating husband is currently in the hospital and unable to stand on his own two feet to be here. It seems he accidentally walked into a door then fell down the stairs. If you need to contact him it's going to be difficult because he doesn't have a home at the moment, in fact, all that stuff surrounding me out here on the lawn happens to be his belongings.

"Feel free to paw through everything, like that now unlocked desk over there, to see if there are any more dark secrets that we'd ALL like to know about.

"Be sure not to knock over that "House for Sale" sign over near the curb.

Now, let me tell you what it's been like living with the arrogant, self-serving, pompous jerk who obviously doesn't give a damn about the children he fathered, after which I'll be more than happy to answer any and every question you might have."

It would go downhill from there 'cause I'd tell 'em whatever they wanted to know and I'd do it with a smile on my face.

First, before I did anything, yours truly would have the locks changed and move every penny of money I could into my own private account cause I'd be smart enough to figure out that my nice lifestyle just went down the proverbial toilet.

Now I could talk on and on about Spitzer (talk about what's in a name!), but all this mess with Obama is bordering on insane and I just have to throw in my few cents worth.

Tell me ladies, if your preacher started spouting stuff like Obama's preacher, just how long would you keep your pretty little tale ends sitting in the pew? I for one wouldn't be a member of a church where the preacher cursed, talked so hateful about people he didn't like and said America was damned by God. If the man or women talking from the pulpit is saying things that have to be bleeped on the radio and the news then I am not in church and I am not listening to a preacher.

My goodness, Obama CHOSE to listen to that hate mongering week after week. I was SHOCKED when I saw the video of that man in the pulpit. I heard Obama telling folks at some meeting that they'd be right at home in his church. I beg to differ Mr. Obama. I'm not adverse to a little fire and brimstone preaching at times, but that man wouldn't be MY minister. I'd be all about finding a different church if my fellow parishioners didn't band together to wash the minister's mouth out with soap and send him back for some more training, or better yet, send him packing.

You don't go sit in a church Sunday after Sunday if you don't agree with what the minister is saying. There are just too many choices these days, why there's a church on every corner and a flavor for everyone. Mr. Obama keeps talking about Hillary Clinton's judgement on the war. Humph. What about his judgement in choosing the church and minister he affiliates with? I think that is much more important than a one-time vote any day as it speaks of core values and the heart. It speaks to his outlook on life, the basis of his decision making process and what has shaped his values.

The press pussy foots around when they're talking about things to do with Obama, too. Everyone is SO delicate about how they talk about issues when it involves someone with a different color skin. What a bunch of hooey. I could care less whether someone is black, yellow, white or green for that matter. Actions are what count, and your heart, your concern, your core.

I want a President who LOVES our country and wants it to be better. I don't want a President who isn't proud of this great country. I want a President who would walk out of a church where the minister said the United States was DAMNED by GOD. And I want a President who's spouse is PROUD to live in our country, someone who sees the positive instead of the negative.

Talk is cheap. Well, it's cheap unless you're being paid as much as former President Bill Clinton! I'd take one speaking engagement at his prices a year and be happy.

But I digress. I am going to stop talking about Obama's preacher and the issue of race before I step over that imaginary line that turns me into a target if I haven't already done so. It's just a shame that we can't talk freely any more.

I do find it ironic that the Democrats are having such a difficult time with the race issue. Enough said about that, too.

Miss Etta, loved the name game and the books! Do you remember that song that took names and rhymed them? Something with bananas in it I think? It's lurking right on the edge of my memory but I can't quite pull it out of the murky depths.

Time to get started on my busy, busy day. I've probably stirred up a hornets nest with something I've written here. Oh well, it won't be the first time.

Miss Faye

Thursday, March 13, 2008

What's in your name?

Do tell, Miss Faye, do tell! I plumb forgot about Mr. Swindal and
his she-nan-i-gans. I had a friend who worked real hard for him when
he was campaigning. I always thought she got dreamy eyed when she
talked about him and all. I just wasn't sure if it was the man or
the fact he looked like a better version of her husband. Oh well--
as I remember now, she didn't have much to say when Swindal lived up
to his name.

What's in a name? Ever think about that? Back in my younger days
when I worked in a local hospital, we used to collect odd names.
Hey, we had to do something to take our minds off all the blood and
guts we used to see. The blood, the guts, the gunshots, the broken
bones, the sick, the dying, and the birthing. It was fun, but it got
to me after a while. Glad I got out of that business before the
newest virus of the 80's reared its self into mainstream life.

Anyway, as I was saying, we used to collect names and then imagine
books these people could have authored. So grab a cup of julep juice
and listen up.

College Life by Betty E Screws
Auto Maintenance by Aaron D Tire
Sensible Eating by Ima Hogg
Doll Collecting by Barb E. Dahl
Flying Lessons by Y. Drive
Tickle the Ivories by Dee Major
Beating the System by G I Mann-Slaughter
Between the Lines by Jay Walker
Paris on a Budget by Eileen N Towers
Parachuting by G. Ron Amo
Solar Flares by Mary Ray

Here I sit with just a plain name. No fun in Etta. Yesirreee, no
fun that I've ever seen.

Yall have a good day-- and remember to read those current
bestsellers "The Art of Prodding" by Al Rodham, and "War Strategy"
by Obama Run.

Miss Etta

Wednesday, March 12, 2008

Steamin and Stewin

Miss Etta, is East Brumbles by chance in Nicaragua? I hear getting
Americans to help widows and exiles get their money is a pretty good
business over there.

Listen, girls, I am just steaming - steaming, I tell you. This New
York governor. WHO DOES HE THINK HE IS, ANYWAY? Isn't it absolutely
amazing how arrogant people can get? Arrogance knows no bounds,
that's for dang sure.

Remember that now ex-Congressman from Georgia with the unfortunate
name of Swindal? Nobody thought he could win the election, but bless
goodness he did. Then he got up there and got caught in some scheming
to get the money to pay for his big ole' house. (He needed a big
house cause his wife was ALWAYS pregnant At least she was every time
he had to go to court.) I mean, really. Did he think he was entitled
to it cause he sat on a chair in Congress?

Entitled is a word I detest. I absolutely, absolutely detest that
word. Makes my fingers quiver with revulsion just to type it.

Then we get to this fella from New York who allegedly dropped a right
nice chunk of change on a prostitute. (Miss Etta, maybe he helped
another widow woman get her money.) Him the self-appointed Mr. Moral
Conscience of the Universe Carrying A Great Ole Big Stick. Pride does
goeth, you know. Every time it goeth.

I don't even know where to start with this whole tangled mess, but
the 2 things that just aggravate me to no end are: 1) his wife
standing there beside him while he says "Yes, I was a bad boy" (no
apology, though. That's something i'm gonna' write about another
time, how we've become a land devoid of personal accountability. Stay
tuned.) and 2) what I think might just be behind this whole thing.

Why on earth would a man ask his wife to stand beside him (actually
she was standing behind him in the clip I saw) as he addressed the
world about how he unzipped his britches with another woman-for-hire?
And why on earth would she do it? Can somebody explain that to me,
please? I mean it's bad enough that he was sleeping-around on her,
but to ask her to stand there on stage with him as he tells the
universe that he did???? Even if it was his wife's idea to be there,
any man with a shred of compassion and decency (which probably rules
him out right there) would say "No, honey. You've been through
enough. I will not allow you to be further humiliated in such a way-
public fashion. Let me go get this press conference over with, then
I'll take you out to a nice, quiet dinner."

But I tell you, I wonder if our gal Hillary isn't behind this. Not
the rendezvous with the prostitute, but the big unveiling of the
rendezvous. Wonder if Mr. Big Time New York - who also just happens
to be a super-delegate - was planning to vote for Hillary or not.
Think about it. It's just the kind of thing Hillary would do. That's
all I'm sayin'.

Another thing that's got my panties in a wad this morning is the
letter the IRS is reportedly planning to send out to the tune of $42
MILLION DOLLARS telling folks to watch their mailbox this summer
cause a check's on its way. The IRS turned Publishers Clearinghouse.
Don't you girls think that the vast majority of us will KNOW when a
check lands in our mailbox beside all the bills and special offers?
$42 MILLION DOLLARS. And just before tax time, too. Guess we all
better check, check, and double check our returns cause they've gotta
pay for that postage from somewhere, and my bet is they'll be looking
at the tax returns with a magnifying glass this year.

Till next time,
Miz Vul

Tuesday, March 4, 2008

I'm Rich, I Tell YA

Why, there it was in my mailbox. Not one, but two emails telling me
I'm rich!! Yep, I'm the lucky fool who has been selected at random
from, not one but two, recent widows somewhere over in East Bumble,
to help them get their husband's money! Isn't it wonderful?

What? Doncha think it's true? Surely no self respecting widow would
send out an erroneous message like that, would they?

I figure since they were so bright to find me, and only me, that I
will let them find the way to get me the money without hearing from
me. Shouldn't they be that suave, that savvy, that .........

You gals are on your high horses with your conspiracy theory stuff.
You gals make a lot of sense on this weighing in of the children. I
think the elected folks should be the first to jump on it on those
scales. Will we have to take them to the state line so the scales
that weigh all those really big trucks can attempt to find out their
weight? Might be kinda hard since so many of them are so full of
smoke, hot air, and gigantic egos. Hey, how much do those egos
weigh? Don't know if their brains weigh more or less?

I'm gittin real worn out listening to all the people running for
office tell me how much they are gonna do for me. Somehow it all
sounds the same. And I figure the same means more taxes and less
privacy. Soon, they'll be telling us what we can talk about on our
own front porch!

While everyone else is running around, you'll spot me. I'll be the
one who has all those rich widows' money from East Bumble. When the
check arrives, I'll even treat ya'll to dinner.

Miss Etta

Monday, March 3, 2008

Still Trying to Find My Way Around the Weighing

Woo hoo, Miss Faye. You tell it, girlfriend. I LOVE your idea about
weighing in the esteemed legislators and posting THAT information on
the internet.

The "aggregate", of course.

Talk about some big ole' numbers. 'Course the numbers from the scales
wouldn't hold a candle to the numbers we'd get if we could measure
how much weight some of those elected officials throw around.

I tell you what I'd like to see weighed and that's the brains of the
members of the Clayton County Board of Education. Have you ever heard
of such a mess? I see on the Georgia Front Page where Governor Sonny
has Ronnie Chance trotting around some legislation that would
automatically, I assume, put out a referendum if the school system
loses accreditation. It'd go like this: school board members fart
around and lose accreditation for their system. Then, while they're
hiding out in their homes that may or may not actually be in the
geographical school system area they allegedly represent, an election
is held for voters to say "keep 'em" or "get rid of the dang fools."
Should voters choose door #2, Secretary of State would appoint
replacement board members - which is a good way to do it, in the
sense that holding elections is not cheap.

I just hope when and if they set up the scales they'll come up with
some high falutin' formula or sliding scale specially for those
school kids in Clayton County cause we three know that those kids are
gonna' be downing the junk food like never before. Specially high
school students wondering about getting into a college. Stress
increases appetites, it just does.

Miss Faye, Sugar, I am with you: it's the government intrusion that
just steams my broccoli. Like we need the government to save us from
ourselves. They just WISH we were half as stupid as they treat us.

I don't even think I can go much further down this road for fear
it'll make my Little Miss Debbie Double Chocolate Wafer Bar come back
up.

Y'all take care now.

Till next time,

Miz Vul

Sunday, March 2, 2008

I just love a good conspiracy...

What burns me about this fat police thing is that the goverment intrusion is done by so-called Republicans. You know, the less government types. In their defense though, trying to say no to something like that is like being between the rock and hard place so often referred to.

I think it's all just sneaky ways of getting the goverment into our lives.

Can you just hear all these double-speaking do-gooders? "But it's good for our children" "We can't let these poor little boogers keep getting fatter and fatter and having heart attacks at young ages" "Don't you care about our dear children?"

I heard that we rank somewhere along the bottom of the totem pole in being fat here in Georgia. I guess it's all that finger-lickin' chicken and fat-back laden green beans. Ooooh, dump a pile of lumpy mash taters and greasy gravy and I'm in food heaven. Ummm, biscuits with gobs of butter, pour a good dose of syrup on top and oh lord I'm gaining weight with a smile on my face.

Well, I think we should start a movement to make all of our tubby senators and representatives measure up the same way they're making our kiddos measure up.

What's good for the goose is certainly good for the gander. I guess today is my day for re-using old cliches gals!

Back to the conspiracy. I do think they keep sneaking all these little bills in and pretty soon they'll control every nit picky little thing we do. We're losing our freedoms and we are smiling as it's happening because it's all in the name of nice.

Well. I started my morning with a smile and I'm ending it with a humph. I am just fed up with these folks at our state capitol. You know, they stick something like the measuring of fat onto the schools then they take way money for sports and the arts and all the extra programs that keep our kids moving instead of sitting. I wonder how much money it's going to cost the schools to try and keep up with kids weight? The state is cutting back on the funds that put nurses in schools, too. So who's going to weigh the kids? The PE teacher? Instead of having our children out playing kick ball (which nobody can play anymore because it's too physical) we'll have them standing in line waiting to be weighed.

And Miz Vul, I'm with you on the conspiracy of therapists. You know they have a huge lobby just like regular doctors. I bet there were a bunch of lobbyists lining up to push this one through in the name of "health".

Well, before I get too much more worked up and hurt my own health I'm going to stop typing and hit the send button to our journal. I am so stressed out about this I think I am going to have to fix a big bowl of ice cream with chocolate syrup and whipped cream. To each her own way of de-stressing. Mine stresses the seams of my jeans.

Miss Faye

What Now: Teachers as Fat Police???????

Misses Faye and Etta,

Did y'all hear about the brain child of one Joseph Carter in the
Georgia Senate? Carter introduced a bill - a bill that PASSED the
Senate last Friday - requiring schools to track the body mass index
(BMI) of school kids by WEIGHING each student and POSTING the
information on the school or maybe the school system's web site or
maybe, what the heck, both. He wants these measurements posted for
all to see (not individual stats but aggregate, thank goodness for
small things) so we can COMPARE the weight of Georgia school children
to the rest of America.

Say what?????

Here we go again with another way the government can step right into
our lives and save us from ourselves.

I got to wondering what on earth would possess a fella to think such
a thing is a good and fine idea. Did he just lose a lot of weight?
(Cause you know how evangelical recent weight loss folks can get.)
Does he or someone he loves own a weight loss franchise? (Cause, like
it or not, an absurd-but-attention-getter idea like this means free
publicity - probably nationwide.)

Wait. A. Minute.

Maybe this Carter fella is a therapist or loves one dearly. Maybe
he's a rare long-term thinker who knows that measuring and comparing
are two things guaranteed to give students angst-with-a-capital-A and
a sense of self worth that's lower-than-dirt. Maybe he knows that
student angst borne of low self worth manifests in ways that give
parents, teachers, and other adults who come in contact with the
aforementioned children angst. And as if all that's not enough, maybe
he knows that it's that low self worth ignited and fueled by
measurement and comparison that gives students-turned-adults angst
that limits and inhibits and sends them straight to the therapist's
office.

Now I'll admit it, girlfriends: I am a conspiracy theorist from way
back. But I'm thinking this isn't about a vast any-wing conspiracy.
No, this - THIS - is about food chain, pure and simple. It has to be.

Gotta' scoot, girls - it's supper time. Time to get my daily exercise
by using that grind-it-yourself salt shaker. Yes, I'll have extra
salt tonight. It's time to start working out sure enough cause today
they may be measuring and posting and comparing students, tomorrow it
could be everybody.

Till next time,

Miz Vul

Mint Julep Journal