Cozy Alert

Ah. Gotta tell you, Miss Faye, that I'm getting quite concerned
about your well being and all. You keep on talking about t.p.
issues. Now, I know that such an enterprising gal as yourself can
figure out what to do in case of emergency while you are indisposed.
In the woods, use a big leaf. In the house, get a cozy!

Doncha remember those wonderful t.p. cozies that were in every
bathroom decades ago? I remember the one my mama had, and the one my
grandma had, and the one my aunt had, and the ones at my friends'
houses. Why, they came in most any color! They were crocheted or
knitted and had a cute little plastic head on them. When the t.p.
was put under the cozy, why, the effect was just beautiful. It
looked like a full skirt that the southern belles would have worn
during Scarlet's reign. Doncha remember?

Doncha have one? If not, I'm hereby declaring a state of emergency
here in Fayette County! We must bring back the t.p. cozy so poor
Miss Faye doesn't have to scurry around under the bathroom cabinets
when she finds herself in need, again.

What color cozy do you fancy? I'm sure someone still knows how to
make those t.p. cozies around here.

Miss Etta

Once again, a step behind

Miss Etta and Miz Vul,

You two had some interesting children. My little ones were tame in comparison. No baby powder tales to tell on this end. Now if you want to talk about toilet paper mummies, I can match you tale for tale!

I discovered their newest venture the hard way --- sitting on the toilet after a much needed fast run to get there. I realized the roll was empty, opened the cabinet door to find some more to find the cupboard was bare.

Difficult time to realize we'd run out of toilet paper, something we NEVER did in our often haphazard home. The children were outside, I was alone, thus was able to scoot to the other bathroom to find a roll.

None there either.

Good thing there are Kleenex!

Not too long after that my little "mummies", along with a few friends, came groaning scarily into the house. Guess who yours truly scared in return?

I would love to relive some of those days with the mindset I have now. Did you find that you fussed about things that really, in retrospect, didn't deserve to be fussed about? And worried about things that mattered little in the scheme of things? Today if those same little mummies came wandering in the door I'd grab some of the toilet paper and join in the fun!

Age brings such wisdom. It's a shame we have children when we're still babies ourselves. We think we are so grown-up at whatever age we happen to be.

I am so proud to be getting younger every day! The joys of growing older and throwing off so many of those restrictions we put on ourselves and that we let others put on us! I don't know how my little ones turned out to be such good children. They don't seem to have any of my fears and concerns about society's "rules".

Miss Faye

Me, too!

Oh, Miss Etta, my children did the same thing with the baby powder!
It's a memory that has become a bona fide family legend and a prized
picture to boot. There we were, working in the kitchen one fine day
when my daughter (who had just learned to walk) motioned for my boy
(who had just learned to crawl) to follow her, and out they went on a
sibling adventure. I breathed a sigh of gladdened gratitude:
gladdenment 'cause it made my heart smile that they were bonding and
enjoying each other and gratitude 'cause I was gonna' have a few
minutes by myself in the kitchen. (Looking back on it, that would've
been a fine time to try some of your Kahlua-nog.)

But there wouldn't've been time 'cause as it turned out, there
weren't nearly enough blissful minutes that had elapsed before I did
just like you did: I noticed the quiet, sensed trouble, and let me
tell you, I didn't have to go very far at all to find it. Just down
the hall in daughter's bedroom there they were, just like you found
your children: both of them covered in white powder. Only way I could
tell the children from everything else in the room was from the
giggling. When I said something and let them know I was there, my
daughter turned around, smiled from ear to ear, and raised her hands
triumphantly. The boy was sitting in the rocking chair giggling
delightedly. They were powerful - or should I say POWDERful? Not only
had they made snow, they'd made it in the middle of July. And without
their mama's help or intrusion, whichever the case may be.

After the photography session ended, I took 'em outside and let 'em
run through the sprinkler to get cleaned up. (Don't remember a single
thing about cleaning the room, though. It's nice the way my brain
takes such good care of me sometimes by remembering only the good
things and dropping everything else. More and more, though, it seems
to be putting darn near everything in that dropping-off pile.)

Isn't it funny the fine line that separates quiet of the pleasurable,
highly-prized, never-get-enough variety from the oh-no-trouble's-
brewing variety? I guess you're right: it can't be anything but that
inexplicable and aren't-we-glad-we-have-it-even-if-they-wish-we-
didn't-and-by-the-way,-it-never-goes-away Mama Radar that can tell
the difference. It's a forced to be reckoned with, I tell you. It is,
it is.

Y'all ever make snow ice cream? That's the only thing I hate about
dodging these weather bullets: I miss my snow ice cream. Found some
in the grocery store. Mayfields. (The ice cream brand, not the
grocery store.) It's good, but not nearly as good as fresh homemade
snow ice cream. (Some say I oughta listen to the politicians and not
eat any snow that comes from a globally-warmed sky carrying toxic
waste and other things that are bad for you, but hey.)

Now that my chillun are grow up and moved out, I think I'll go in
search of some Kahlua and enjoy a few quiet minutes this fine afternoon.

Or maybe some julep juice.

Either one'll do.

Till next time,

Miz Vul

No Show Snow and Eggnog

Mornin' my friends,

There it was on the six o'clock news last Friday. Snow and sleet forecasted again for our area. That was like the third time in 10 days. There I was, eagerly watching the radar screen to see if it would get here in time for more snowman building in the morning. Went to bed. Woke up-- no show snow.

As I was grumbling about not having a pretty front yard again, I got to thinking. And, then I got to laughing. Do you remember what it was like to have youngins in the house? It was always quite noisy, and that was a good sign.

When it got quiet for a spell, the old mama brain radar would sound and off. I'd go to seek and find. I remember one time when the mama radar went off. It was just too quiet for toddlers in the house. Well, guess what! They were quiet for a reason.

I went upstairs to be greeted by shouts of joy. "Look, mama," they shouted. "We're snowmen."

Snowmen indeed. They were covered in white---- white baby powder, that is. The oldest had climbed up on the bed and reached way over to the top of the dresser. She grabbed the baby powder and turned everyone, and everything, into snowmen. They were just so proud. Me? Not so proud.

After cleaning them up, I spent several hours trying to clean up all the "snow" which had fallen in the baby's room. As I recall, that room smelled like baby powder until the day we moved!

So, even though the weather radar ending up being quiet over the weekend, I spent many moments in happy snow memories.

Tried something new this morning. I decided I needed some eggnog before it went completely out of season. Since it really is too early to add the julep juice, I opted on adding a dash of Kahlua. Mmmmmmmmmmmm. So, I think I'll go sip on my eggnog and dream of snow and the days of the mama radar.

Talk with you later,

Miss Etta

Redundancy

Hey girls,

Miss Faye, seems to me that "nasty politics" sure is a fine example of redundancy. I've got a buncha kin folks who have run for office - all of 'em running successfully, regardless of how the vote count turned out. You know what I always say: when it comes to politics, sometimes the loser is the biggest winner.

If anybody happens to ask me (and it happens on the rare occasion), I tell 'em to run on the state or national level 'cause it's been my experience that the hometown folks remember every single little thing - and they hold onto a grudge like it was a bar of gold. As a rule, folks just don't seem to pay nearly as much attention to what's going on outside their backyard.

'Course the odd thing is that I've also found that people want to run for something on the local level 'cause they care about where they live and they want to have a positive impact on what goes on there. I can't explain it, I just know it's so.

I don't know. I just don't know.

I synonymize (I just made that word up, dontchaknow) power with politics, and power just does things to people. And it doesn't matter whether you win or lose the election 'cause let's face it: there's power in name recognition alone. It's like I've always said: Money (or you can substitute the word "power") brings out the BEST in people.

I say that and most people don't even pay any attention. They're so used to hearing folks say "Money brings out the WORST in people" that they just think they know what I said. But then I get the occasional person who realizes how I changed it and they either (a) correct me like I'm some moron who doesn't know a cliche from a voting booth or (b) ignore it completely or (c) ask me what on earth am I talking about. And since I can tell you girls are of the #c variety, I'm gonna' tell you that what I'm talking about is this: when people have money, they can either keep it to themselves and just go on being a nice person or they can try to make other people it that money without even salting it first. Me, I prefer what's behind door #a: they just keep right on being a nice, friendly, upstanding person, keeping their bank account balance to themselves.

I've got some other relatives who chose my preferred route. They lived well beneath their means, and when it came time that I had to take a more active role in their lives, that's when I found out just how far beneath their means they were living. It was interesting (we'll just choose to go with that word, though there are a host of other words running through my brain right now) watching how people treated this one relative in particular. She was old and lived in a plain house and drove an old, old, old car and had teeth that made her look British, and while a lot of people were kind to her, there were way, way, way, way too many who treated her with disdain - like they had "power" over her because she was old and looked so poor. Oh, if they only knew.

If they only knew.

It was kinda' entertaining, I must say. Was like watching The Emperor's New Clothes play out again and again. Them parading around like an emperor with their nose in the air like they were wearing clothes they knew she wished she had, when actually they were parading around buck nekkid and hairy.

But I'll tell you one thing that's The Honest Truth: it's nice having rich folks as ancestors.

Especially when they're nice, honest, loving, fun, good people who like to laugh, too.

Till next time,

Miz Vul

Nasty politics

Miss Etta, I used to think that politics just kept getting nastier and nastier until I took a gander at politics of old. I have decided there is something inside a person who is ambitious enough to want to be in a top role that brings out the fight in them.

Those two squabbling Democrats on that debate the other night made me think of two cats fighting over a piece of fish. Old Edwards tried to make out like he was above it all, but you just listen to some of the other things he has to say. You can't change a skunk's stripes.

Politics is rather interesting but I find tangling with day to day life difficult and mind-straining enough. That doesn't mean I am not strongly tuned to all that is going on, but I get so frustrated trying to figure it all out. They posture and preen and who knows if they mean what they say? Then the press twists it and turns it around and black becomes white.

I just do the best I can. I will always make sure to vote. I simply do not understand how someone can ignore that precious gift our fore-fathers gave to us. Did you read about those votes in Cuba? No one had any opposition at all! Why even bother getting up and going to vote? I guess down there they have to go vote or they'll end up in jail somewhere.

Enough on politics. It is a fine day and I do not want to clutter my mind with all their doings.

It is cold, but the sun is shining and I think I am going to find reason to get outdoors. Chances are I will skitter back in faster than a cat with its tail on fire, but I will attempt it just the same. Speaking of cats, did you see that funny picture of the cat in the snow on the Fayette Front Page? I wish I had been quick enough to think about taking some pictures.

I don't know where Miz Vul took off to but I sure wish she would visit again.

Miss Faye

Me Thinks They Doth Protest Too Much

Do you remember growing up in the time where manners and truth meant something? Do you remember what it was like to get caught in a not so truthful story? Kinda like when mama would ask who ate the last chocolate cookie? Sometimes, I would just stand there and with an oh so innocent look on my face say, "not me." She would ask again. Again I would deny. Then she would point out that I had chocolate around my mouth. Oops. Learned real fast to keep my face clean. Learned real fast what happened when I was caught.

And then the mama talks about not saying anything at all if I couldn't find something nice to say. Boy, did I have to work on keeping my trap shut. Is that why I am so very quiet now? Sometimes, it just is too hard to find something nice to say.

The last couple of days have been real interesting, yessiree. It seems like those squabbling Democratic candidates aren't from around here or else they didn't learn their lessons at all. Why, mama would have taken care of those two long ago.

It would appear that the candidates are really getting ready to have fistfights based on the way they acted at that debate the other night. They keep on pointing fingers and trying to get the last word in about what he said or she said.

Haven't they heard of video? It's just so easy for the general public to find what was really said or not said. And this last round is really making the candidates less than desirable, in my
book. Wouldn't a potential leader know that they need to be able to back up those accusations with facts, and not fantasy? Looks like they've been caught with the tell tell chocolate syrup on their faces. Looks like their mamas should have taught them some manners on what to do in polite company.

Uncle had a saying about verbal warfare. He would say, "Me thinks the lady doth protest too much." In simple words, keep on denying and hurtling back and lose all credibility. Once again, in my life, it was a lesson hard learned-- but I learned how to keep quiet.

Better to let sister or cousin take the heat.

You know Miss Vul, I bet your grandpa would have really enjoyed watching today's version of verbal wrestling. Even you might have been persuaded to stop counting cars and start counting those stories. I might even have to miss an episode of Perry just to catch the latest round in this battle.

Miss Etta

I declare I am getting senile

I titled my last entry "Squishy Squash" and plum forgot to put anything in there about squash. I am not old enough to be senile and not blond enough to be called ditsy, so I have no excuse.

My intention was to talk the other "southern" favorite. My hips are a testament to the fact that I have the southern fried food affinity affliction. I love my fried squash but, like my aversion to boiled okra, I can not stand it stewed.

I love to add squash to bread recipes though. I had thought I might use your okra bread recipe Miss Etta and try substituting some squash.

I like to take that jiffy mix cornbread mix and fry it up like a pancake. Add a bit of sugar to the batter and it is absolutely delicious. Fry it up and you have the two weight-devils in one batch for a good breakfast. I used to slather it with butter and syrup but all those years of fried foods, sweets and sugar laden desserts now keep me from the sin of butter sadly.

When I am old I will wear purple and I will eat all the fried foods, desserts and breads covered in butter that I want. Until then, I diet and abstain.

I'm off for good this time!
Miss Faye

Squishy Squash

Miss Etta that okra bread sound interesting so I think I may just skitter round to the local food store and buy all the fixings. It might be good with some corn tossed into the mix, too. I never have been one to leave well enough alone, although I prefer to think of it as adding my own touch to every little thing. As they say, I make it my own.

With this crazy weather I don't know if I should be making chili or eating watermelon. Only in Georgia can you find weather that can't make up its mind from day to day.

And yes, Miz Vul, although you have come new to our little front porch, you are missed already when you don't add your two cents worth to our discussions. Looking for a yoga dvd is not excuse enough to ignore us unless you happen to get tied up in some knot while doing one of those crazy contortions. Just how does it make you relax to twist a leg behind your neck? I tried some classes and I kept falling over. The only animal that should practice standing with one leg in the air is a dog.

I am short on time but did want to at least say hello. I will try to catch up later this evening if life permits.

Miss Faye

Old Enough to Be Young

My, my. My face is turning red as yours should be, Miss Faye. Just know that I'm too young to be this old.

I recall when I was a child that my sister was only one year older than me. Apparently time passed by more quickly for her than for me because she has a child who is old enough to make her a grandma. Me? I'm much too young for any of that nonsense. I even told her so recently, too.

Speaking of age, one time my youngins asked me what it was like living with the dinosaurs. I told them they shouldn't call their father names! Hmmmmmppppphhhhhhh.

Okra Bread is so simple to make, although I'm not sure if I should share the recipe with you, after asking me a question that no polite southern gal would ask anyone Lawd, next you'll be trying to figure a way to get me to say it by asking who was the first president I voted for. Just know, it was a one term winner. Ok-- here it goes... Take another sip of Julep Juice and sit down so you don't miss it. I'm, oh, about...

Okra Bread

1 c. chopped fresh okra

1 c. chopped onions

2 eggs
1 c. chopped fresh tomatoes (or one can of tomatoes, drained)
1 box Jiffy corn muffin mix
Salt and pepper to taste

Mix above ingredients until it sticks together with muffin mix. Pour into greased pan. Dot with butter and bake at 375 degrees for 30-45 minutes or until brown.

Talk to you later. I've got to stop and have some more Julep Juice.

Miss Etta

Mostly Monikering This Morning

Mornin' Miss Faye and Miss Etta,

Did y'all miss me? I've been looking for my yoga dvd. Bought me a new yoga dvd a coupla weeks ago - an am/pm program with 20 minutes of yoga at both ends of the day. I thought I could handle that all right. Well, I paid for it, brought it home, and promptly lost it. I have torn this house up looking for it. Finally found that little stinker this morning, and now I'm so tired, I'm gonna' have to go take a nap to rest up before I start yogaing.

Y'all crack me up with these names, though. I tell you what, Miss Faye, I think I'm gonna' start calling you Totl - Trouble on Two Legs. That's a good one. And a teensy weensy little ole' mini-poodle named Killer? That's another good one, Miss Etta. Being as how I'm fully into multi-tasking, your practice of using a dog's kneecaps as measuring stick for when to call the plumber really does appeal to me. I sure do hope neither one of you had busted pipes this weekend, but Miss Etta, if you did, I hope you had a kind soul like that manager-girl you had in Doraville to take such good care of you. They got you all fixed-up before you ever got back home. How 'bout that? Probably even dried off Killer's little ole' legs, too.

Talking about names, though: my mama always swore that she was named after her daddy's favorite mule. She knew it. She just knew it. (And I have to say that one of her brothers - the baby one - swears there was enough evidence in Mama's behavior to give credence to her speculation of being named after a mule.) (Little brothers tend to have a keen eye for things like this, I'm told.) But anyway, for one of her big-girl birthdays, Mama stopped by to see her daddy on her way to work. Her daddy gave her the usual birthday apple, birthday bill (of the green, $100 variety), then looked her straight in the eyes and said, "Now I know you've always thought I named you after my favorite mule, but listen here, that's just not true. I actually named you after my mama. But if you want to keep on believing that I named you after my mule, let me tell you what: that was the best damn mule I ever did have."

Did y'all have enough to eat this weekend? Mr. Vul and I trotted over to the grocery store Saturday morning, and while everybody stood in line for the rapidly disappearing milk and bread, we stocked up on winter storm provisions Vul-style: vegetables for soup; fixin's for cornbread; Miss Debbie chocolate snack wafers; and boiled peanuts. We fared fine. Just fine.

Y'all have a fine day now, ya' hear.

Till next time,

Miz Vul

Inquiring minds and toilets

Well, having the inquisitive mind that I do, I will step over into territory no gentleman should ever tread and ask just how old you are Miss Etta? I think among friends of the same sex it is perfectly acceptable to share. Forget all the readers who may happen to see your answer, just pretend it's just the three of us sitting in the parlor trading secrets!

If for some reason you don't want to share your age after tweaking my interest with your reference to age, at least you can share your recipe for okra bread. It sounds intriguing to say the least. I may just break down and try it if the recipe is simple enough.

Reading about your dog water barometer made me think of a story I heard from a friend of a friend. It seems this couple had a three story home that was in a nice section of town. They took off for parts unknown to enjoy a well-earned vacation.

When they got home they opened the door to a full house of water. It seems that a day or so after they left on their trip there was a lightening storm. Somehow, without doing any visible exterior damage or catching the house on fire, lightening struck on the third floor. It must have traveled along the metal pipes because the only damage that occurred as a direct result of the strike is that it sheared the upstairs toilet into pieces.

The entire time they were gone water flowed from the broken toilet across the floor, through the floor eventually and all the way down to the basement. Carpets were ruined. Ceilings were ruined.

Now of course it could have been much, much worse. They could have been at home sitting on the throne when the lightening struck.

Someone else I know left home to go shopping leaving the washing machine running. When they got home that night the hose had burst flooding the entire laundry room, kitchen and basement. I never leave my washer going when I am leaving the house anymore.

Which reminds me of something that you two ladies may already know but I just learned. Have you ever had clothes sour in the washer because you forgot they were there? It is virtually impossible to get that smell out, even with another wash. If you pour just a little bit of vinegar into the water when you re-wash, it will completely do away with the smell!

It just proves you are never too old to learn something new.

Talk to you soon. I think that I am going to fix myself a cup of hot cocoa and curl up with a good book. I need to thaw out after our little snow event.

Miss Faye

Snow Jam and Okra Bread

Goodness, ladies! Can't a good old (do not snicker) Southern gal take time to watch the weather forecast? And for the sake of our friendship, leave okra alone!! I adore okra. Most anyway I can find it. Boiled, fried, soup, cake, and my favorite, Okra Bread. Ah, the memories of it just warms the cockles of my heart.

Now that I've got that off my mind, let me talk about my day. I've been so busy just wondering if we're gonna have another Snow Jam in Atlanta. It's been so many years since we've had a really big snow jam. Why, I remember back in the early 1980s that we had them on a fairly regular basis. If I recall correctly, it also seems like they were usually around Martin Luther King Holiday. And it seems as if all our really bad snowstorms come from Bama.

Why, I remember when I was working just north of downtown Atlanta when the telephone rang at the office back in '82. One of the girl's husbands, who was an attorney, said his Birmingham office called and said get out of Atlanta. Snow is a coming. And, boy did it come. I was stuck at the office for two days. Couldn't get my car out of the parking lot.

Now I had a miniature poodle named Killer. Before you laugh too hard, my daddy said if I had to have a sissy looking dog, I couldn't give it a sissy name. So, the dog was named Killer. He was most definitely a "lady killer." Of course, he was great at nipping my dates too. Let me get back to my story before I tell you some really hilarious things that Killer did.

Anyway, I was living in a townhouse in Doraville. I called the manager of the complex and asked them to check on little Killer, seeing how I couldn't get there to take care of him. The manager called me back shortly at the office and told me Killer was just fine. He, in fact, had bitten her when she went in to feed him and take him for a walk. She didn't complain though, because poor little Killer was up to his kneecaps in extremely cold water. Yep, while I was at work for that long period of time, my water pipes broke. Actually broke in 16 places. And, yes, there was a ton of water in the townhouse. They shut off my water and went ahead and got someone in to take care of some of the damage before I could get home.

So, you see, I learned another valuable lesson from a dog. They are great indicators to use when water pipes break. If water gets up to their kneecaps, have someone turn off the water and call a plumber. Of course, now I have a much bigger dog so his kneecaps are much further off the floor. Find it cuts down on having to call the plumber, don't you know.

I'm ready for Snow Jam '08. I just baked a cake and went to the store to buy carbs. Who knows, if the power goes, I'll need the extra carbs to stay warm. And if the power doesn't go off, well, I just can't let that food go to waste now, can I.

Miss Etta

Feed those poor starving kids some spinach!

Where or where can Miss Etta be? It has been too long since she joined us on the porch! I may have to send out a posse to find her!

Lawd, I gotta tell you my mind was jumpin' all over the place, just like those crickets, when I read your entry Miz Vul! I have food tales to tell for sure!

My Mama told me a story of when I was so small I was still in a high chair. She had plopped a whole bunch of nasty spinach on my plate and I was refusing to eat it. We locked horns and I have to tell you, I was much more stubborn than she. We went round and round until my dessert privileges were in dire jeopardy.

Just in the nick of time someone knocked on the door and she left to answer it. She wasn't gone but a few minutes, just long enough for my plate to get cleaned up real nicely. She said I was just barely talking and walking and she had no idea I was such a sneaky little devil until she was cleaning up AFTER I had my dessert reward for being so, so good. Guess what was in plain view in the middle of the trash can? Yep, of course you guessed long ago I had done something with the spinach other than eat it!

She said she had no idea I could even get out of the high chair, much less figure out that the spinach needed to go all the way across to the trash. She never did figure out how I thought to do it so fast and then was able to accomplish the dastardly deed in the short time she was gone. I don't remember the incident so I have no idea how I managed.

And those poor starving children I had to clean my plate for? I never did understand why it mattered about those children in China or Vietnam or Africa (depending on her mood). I would have been delighted to ship them a package every day of the stuff I didn't want to eat.

I am still a very picky eater, although I have grown to like spinach. I can't abide the taste of collard greens and turnips, which I know is almost a sacrilege down here in our south.

You must have a very interesting family Miz Vul, one that I think I would very much like! If I gave anyone, and I do mean anyone, in my family chocolate and paint brushes they would head to the freezer to find the ice cream as they asked which package had the paint to go with the brushes. I'd rather drink before noon than have to try to explain what they might want to do with the paint brushes and chocolate if it just so happened I didn't have a can of paint and ice cream!

I rather enjoy poking at my family sometimes. It is so easy to just tip toe over the line of decorum and have them looking at me all askance! I may be invitin' you and Miss Etta to our next family gathering. After I've had a couple of pitchers of adult beverages, I think I would enjoy it immensely.

That reminds me of the fella in school that I used to delight in embarrassing. I sat behind him in one of my classes. He was a big old football player and everyone just swooned over him. But my, oh my, was he shy! I would lower my head and get as close as I could reach and whisper something to make him turn red just when I thought the teacher was swinging her hear in his direction. It didn't take much. All I'd have to do was tell him that everyone thought he was so cute or some similar sentiment!

I have a little bit of an impish nature! My Mama just says I'm trouble on two legs, but most times she says it with a smile.

Well, it's Friday night, the snow is coming. I hope we have at least 3 or 4 inches although I understand the weatherman has tempered the prediction to possibly one at most. Oh well, I can always hope.

Hope you enjoyed your Little Debbie Miz Vul, and hope to hear from you soon Miss Etta!

Miss Faye is headed to the refrigerator while we still have power!

Chocolate On My Mind

Hey Miss Faye,

Glad you gave the chirpers a listen. Hope you listened to the slowed-down version 'cause it's amazing how much their slowed-down version sounds like humans making beautiful music. Makes me wonder how much better we might all sound if we slowed down just a smidgeon, you know what I mean? Hope all that cricket music didn't make you have to bring out the calamine lotion last night.

So you don't like to feed one breathing thing to another, eh? Sure do wish more people felt the way you do - especially when it comes to breathing human beings. Non-breathing humans, too, for that matter, tho' I've found that as a rule, folks are much kinder to dead folks. It's also interesting the transformation that takes place when somebody dies. But we'll save that for another day's posting.

I'm with you on the boiled okra. Blechdkdt. It may taste fine, but the texture is what keeps me from partaking. And I don't really see how anybody could tell how it tastes cause it's so slippery it likely slides right on down without waking up the taste buds.

I am what's known as a picky eater, and now I'm old enough my mama can't make me eat anything regardless of the condition of those poor hungry children in China. And I don't have to hide things under the sofa either, thank goodness, cause now I am the one that has to sweep out from under the sofa.

As for dunking things in chocolate, yum yum. I'll coat most anything with chocolate and call it good. Reminds me of the Christmas I bought a jar of chocolate and a coupla paint brushes for my father-in-law and his new bride. (She was That Kind of Woman, dontchaknow.) (And he sure didn't seem to mind. Not one bit.) Well, I ordered it out of a catalog, and as usual, I did my shopping early and stuck the presents in the closet as they came in. Then, when it came time to wrap presents, I couldn't find that chocolate anywhere.

I did eventually find it, though.

When my 15-year old teenage nephew boy opened his present (ordered from the same catalog), out rolled that chocolate followed shortly by the his 'n hers paintbrushes.

Nephew boy was mightily disappointed to find that it wasn't his, I tell you what.

Think I'll go see if I can find that Little Debbie chocolate thing I hid for just such a day as this.

Miss Etta, you doin' okay?

Till next time, Miz Vul

Boiled Okra and Fried Crickets

Well, Jimminy Cricket Miz Vul! I had to go out and listen to those crickets you told us about in your journal entry. I could not believe that the beautiful sounds could be those noisy little pests. It just goes to show you that there is good in everything.

Except I do have to wonder, like you, just how much time those people had who put all that together.

I listened to that and now I know I will be dreaming of crickets tonight. I saw there was a full one hour version of those crickets making music. I started itching while listening to the short version. My Mama always told me I had much too much of an imagination. Once I knew it was crickets I might be able to appreciate how beautiful they sounded but I could not help but think of those jumping little creatures trapped in a jar waiting to become fish bait!

Now Miss Etta may already know that I don't like to fish and I don't like taking God's creatures and feeding them to another. I'm never quite sure how much Miss Etta has learned about me as we share our thoughts in these journals!

While I might not like the idea of feeding crickets to fish, if I were hungry enough I suppose I'd be soon figuring out how to put them on a fish hook.

Do you know that in some places they put chocolate on crickets and eat them? At least I have been told that before. I have seen boxes of chocolate covered ants but haven't had the displeasure of seeing crunchy cricket delight yet.

In case you were wondering, it is not on my list of things I have to see before I die.

Have you ever thought about who in the world figured out that some foods were OK to eat? Who decided to boil okra? Who was brave enough to eat it first? I dearly love my fried okra but I have yet to acquire a taste for boiled okra. I like it well enough in a soup as long as there are plenty of other vegetables in there with it. Mix it up with some tomatoes and put it on top of rice and I am in my own little food heaven! Yet I will not eat it plain boiled.

Miss Etta I almost forgot! I surely did laugh so hard when I read your cousins saying about first babies! There are a lot of half-baked babies running around in this world today.

I'll be talking with you soon,
Miss Faye

So Glad To Be Here

Well, Misses Faye and Etta, aren't y'all the sweetest things? I sure do 'preciate that invitation. Just add another straw to that mint julep and scoot over cause I think I'll just take you up on it and come sit a spell on your v-porch.

As long as I don't wear out my welcome, that is.

Y'all sure are right about talent right here in our own backyard. Why just look at the Fayette Front Page. All those people doing all those talented things.

And it's nothing new to this area, either. Why this patch of red dirt we call home has been talented upon more times than I can count.

Take this one boy named B. W. Mersk. He hung around between second and third base on the school playground, leaning up against the little fence that surrounded the cesspool, separating it from the kickball field. Somebody'd really get their foot into a ball, and whoosh. That red school-issue ball would sail right over everybody's heads and thunk right into the cesspool. Quick as a flash, B. W. went wading in, treading where none of the rest of us dared to go. He'd fetch the ball, get back outside the fence, shake himself off pretty good, then roll the ball back to the pitcher and go on back to leaning and waiting on the next pretty good kicker to step up to the plate. That right there was what I call useful talent. Anybody who could go that close to the cesspool - let alone inside it - and not gag. Uh huh.

Now I got a husband who can tie a knot in a cherry stem with his tongue. And not even open his mouth too much. I been thinking about hiring him out for parties and such. He's a right outgoing type, and a little bit of pin money never hurt any of us. You know what I mean?

Got another relative who can lay down on the piano bench - her head close to the keyboard - raise her arms up over her face to the keyboard, cross 'em, and play the piano.

She really can.

Can play all sorts of tunes like that. That's not just talent - that's a nimble brain, too, dontchaknow.

Then there's my uncle who can make a dollar go further than from here to Australia and back. But I guess that's delving into a different column - one that's called something other than talent.

At least to hear his family talk, it is.

Ummm hmmmm.

Why just look at you and Miss Etta. All the talent that veritably flies right outta your fingertips daily. Y'all sling these words and thoughts together like nobody's business, and I'm here to tell you: that's talent.

Yes it is.

You are so right, Miss Faye: we don't have to trek all the way out to California to find talent. No, we sure don't.

But I tell you what: if you want to step outside our backyard via the internet, give this little nugget a listen:

http://www.songpeddler.com/JimWilson/GodsCricketChorus_JWilson.asp

It's a chorus of crickets singing.

I kid you not.

Somebody with way too much time on their hands, recorded crickets THEN, as if that wasn't enough, slowed the recording down to match "the length of the average lifespan of a human being".

Don't ask me how they did that 'cause I do NOT do math.

It's a selection right outta nature's talent show. And it could still be local talent 'cause for all we know, those crickets were performing on this red soil we call home. Could be. It sure could be.

Gotta' run. Y'all stay warm now, ya' hear. And thanks again for inviting me to your v-porch. We're gonna' have a mighty fine time. I just know we are.

Till next time,

Miz Vul

First Babies

Miss Faye,

Your story reminded me of something one of my older cousins told
me....... over a splash of julep juice.

First babies don't necessarily take nine months to bake right. All
of the other children do.

Guess he was trying to say something, eh?

Miss Etta

Snow in Georgia!

Miss Etta, I can just picture that dog licking that big old turkey! You can turn a tale!

I am so glad that I made my trip to the grocery store before word broke that there might be snow in Georgia. It doesn't seem to matter if they are talking about snow being in the mountains everyone in this entire state just has to make sure they have a refrigerator full of food.

Now when you think about it, filling up an electric refrigerator with perishable food is not the brightest thing to do when snow threatens. You know the first thing they tell you when the electricity goes out is not to open your refrigerator so the food doesn't go bad. I can just picture everyone sitting around staring at that old fridge knowing it is full of milk that will go bad if you open the door.

How many people have a can opener any more that isn't electric? I think stocking up on peanut butter, jelly and bread might be a bit better idea.

I have had some interesting times when the power went out. No television or radio or computer and no light aside from candles or oil lamps (yes, I have some old oil lamps my Grandmama gave to me many years back). I have been so desperate during long hours without power that I have taken a flashlight and used it to read a book.

When I was a child I loved to read, and still do. Lights out meant taking a book and a flashlight under the covers hoping I wouldn't be caught so it does bring back some fond memories!

One time when the power was out my husband and I just said enough is enough and went to a hotel. We are on well water and when the electricity goes out then our water also goes out. We didn't have electricity for two days if I remember correctly. A few hours without light to read by or a computer is bearable, but that was just a might too long.

I love it when it snows aside from all the crazy drivers if I have to leave the warmth of my home. I hope we get three or four inches although I don't think that is in the forecast. Do you remember the snowstorms that were so bad not too long ago?

Miss Faye again!

Welcome, Welcome Miz Vul!

Miz Vul, I am so very excited to know you will be joining us on the porch! I hear tell you do not adhere to the 12 o'clock rule for mint juleps? Well, that could prove to be very interesting indeed. We are going to have so much fun swappin' tales, especially after we've finished our first pitcher of our favorite beverages! While I am afraid I will always stick to my noon-hour rule, I won't mind watching you at all.

Reading about your husband and piano playing relative got me to thinking about some of my relatives.

You know I have a whole closet just filled with relatives who can do strange and unusual things. We don't talk much about some of them. I practically had to pry open my Grandmama's lips to get her to tell me about some of my relatives when I decided to look back at our family line.

My favorite story is the one where my Grandmama's sister's little girl was born early! She said this cute little thing was so tiny her Mama almost didn't see her when she went to sit down. I can hear her still as she quietly learned over and said, "Why, we almost lost that little girl 'cause my mama's bottom was rather broad at that time."

Now you might not think that talking about a little tiny baby being born early would mean much, but I'll have you know that she was born less than 9 months after my great aunt met her husband at the altar of the local church. And if she wasn't such a prig puttin' on airs like you wouldn't believe.

It took me forever to ferret the date she got married out of my grandmother. She "just couldn't remember exactly, why it was so long ago". Finally I went looking for the family Bible and there it was. If they wanted to hide something like that they shouldn't have kept such good records.

I have to giggle every time I see my cousins! They inherited their mama's big ideas and stuck up ways. I know it's not Christian, but it does just bring them down to human level in my mind somehow.

Now don't get me wrong, I'm a charitable person. If they didn't lord their ideas of grandeur over everyone's heads it wouldn't matter a hill of beans to me which side of the bed their mama got out of in the mornings. There's not a person in this big old world who hasn't made some mistake in their lives and some of them are fairly big. I learned a long time ago to live and let live and not to judge. Just as soon as you start thinking you are better than someone else one of your own children shows up on the front porch with a tale to out-tale the rest.

Oh dear, I have taken so much space up with my tale of just one relative! I will have to come back another day and tell you about some of my more unusual, and yes, strange, relatives!

It is after noon and I am heading to the liquor cabinet!
Miss Faye

Frigid Toes, Frigid Nose, Warm Heart

My toes are frozen. At least they feel like they are. I'm just not conditioned for this type of arctic weather. I hear it might get cold enough to either ice or snow some tonight. I hear the kids at JC Booth have been busy performing a snow dance all week. I guess that's something like a rain dance? Whatever it is, I know all children want to hear the magical words of "no school" in the morning. Guess we'll just have to wait and see.

My nose is frozen, too. Kinda takes me back in time to when I was just a teenager.

We had one of those freak snowstorms in rural GA and our backyard measured 15 inches on the ground. That was the BIG time. Of course, there were seven of us kids home at the time.

Well, mama was afraid she couldn't get out to the store to lay in the supplies, so she dug a big turkey out of the freezer. There it was, just thawing away. Sometime later there was a commotion in the kitchen and we youngins' were told to stay out. No problem. I had other things on my mind.

We all enjoyed the turkey after going outside for the prerequisite snowball fight and snowman building contests. Well, except for mama and Babs. Neither one of them touched it.

Now that was a curious sight. Daddy remarked on their seemingly lack of appetite.

They started giggling. It got louder. The eyes on their heads were rolling and getting bigger.

Ok. Busted. Well, they told us that when they went into the kitchen to check on the turkey and its progress in thawing, they found our dog. And guess what the dog was doing? Yeppers, that dog had pulled the turkey off the counter and was proceeding to lick it. Guess it was a good thing Babs found her then, otherwise, I bet that dog would have started to eat it. Anyway, they just washed it and then put it in the oven to kill the rest of the germs.

Well, some of us at the table almost lost our dinner when that story was over. I learned a lesson. I know never to leave food on a counter when there's a dog in the house!

Speaking of laying in supplies, do you think the stores are full of people today buying all the perishables? I've never figured out why the threat of ice or snow makes everyone rush out to buy milk and eggs. Just think-- if you lose power--- you lose the ability to maintain the fridge. Anyway, it's not like we're going into a deep freeze and not going to be able to go and purchase that milk in the next day or so.

My warm heart just has to welcome Miz Vul to our front porch. I hear tell you're gonna drop by and have some stimulating conversation with Miss Faye and me. We always have room for one more on our porch, but don't ask me to share my fan in the summertime.

Gotta go right now. Gotta go to the store and buy something. I just know I'll get stuck in my house and not be able to get out for at least an hour when I have that uncontrollable urge for popcorn and my daily juleps. Girls have to be prepared for such emergencies.

Miss Etta

Ranting again about television and movie stars

Oh lordy, lordy, I just loved Miss Vul's comments about your TV entry Miss Etta! I think it might be fun to see if Miss Vul would like to join us more often. Mayhap she might enjoy sitting on our virtual front porch sipping mint juleps and sharing her thoughts. It is clear that she is a rightful southern gal don't you think?

Miss Etta, I have to tell you that when I read your entry I thought you were talking at first about some new TV that was getting ready to be released. It doesn't take much to confuse me sometimes. It's a state of being that just comes natural.

Miss Vul talked about The Closer. I have been wanting to watch that but I was scared I just might get addicted because I do like the star of that show. I saw Kyra Sedgwick (The Closer) in a cute movie many years ago called Heart & Souls. It had Robert Downey, Jr. in it and Charles Grodin and some others. If you've never seen that movie you have to watch it! Anyway, I have always liked her. She is married to some movie star who everyone would recognize but the name is lost in the nether regions of my sometimes foggy mind. She has been married forever and I really like that, especially in Hollywood.

I find that I almost prefer anything to watching television. It is hypnotic and when it is on the world does not exist if it is a good program. Unfortunately, or fortunately for someone who prefers to make something rather than waste time in front of a screen, there is not much of any quality on anymore.

And what about all these pat-yourself-on-the-back awards they have these days? There are awards for best-acting-sneeze I believe. These actors are so full of themselves and we just go right along building them up into something bigger than life just because they appear on those bigger than life screens.

What is it that makes us practically worship these people and follow their crazy antics so avidly? Why right here in our backyard we have talent that far surpasses some of the so-called stars I see on TV.

I have been ranting again. I just can't seem to stop myself sometimes. I feel the need for a large mint julep to calm myself down. However, I firmly believe in waiting until after the noon hour before sipping on any strong beverage thus I will have to wait.

No New TV? Oh the horror!

I almost had to laugh. Actually, I did. Laugh out loud.

Oh, those poor, poor folks who lives revolve around having a new episode every week on the television. I barely have time to watch even a portion of the news. In fact, the ten o'clock news is what I watch as I drift off into sleep.

No New TV? Oh my, my. How can we survive? Let me count the ways.

Try talking with your family.
Listen to your spouse.
Play a board game with the children.
Read a book.
Watch some of the older black and white TV shows. They're great!
Watch sports.
Call a friend.
Snuggle up as you watch a roaring fire in the fireplace.
Go outside and walk.
Listen to the radio.

Our parents and grandparents surely didn't worry about having new episodes. I really don't think I've lost any sleep over not seeing a new episode of ........., well, I can't hardly remember the names of any of the current popular shows.

Gotta run. It's almost time for Perry Mason.

Miss Etta

Busy, busy, busy

My Mama always said I didn't know how to sit still and I surely don't. I have to be doing something all the time and most times I'm doing way too much.

My Mama used to say a lot of things and sometimes I would actually listen. I have never changed my ways when it comes to staying busy.

I have read your last few entries into our journal with interest. I was at a luncheon earlier this week and the topic of the Honor Flight came up. It seems that many groups in Fayette County are banding together to help get our World War II veterans to Washington. I am so proud of all the good hearted people working to do this.

If I remember correctly it will cost about $400 per person to send them. The VFW is donating $2100 an the Women's Republican group is also donating some money. I hope everyone reading our journal (and many others) will get in touch with the fine people and help. I have heard it is a very touching trip. I won't go into it more because anyone who'd like to know more about it can read Military Matters in Fayette or visit the Fayette Front Page or the VFW site.

I am having a lot of fun reading all the different blogs by our fellow writers at the Fayette Front Page! It seems that every day there is a new column. Some of them are simply informative like Health: Hearsay & Headlines or Banker's Corner, and others are rather fun, like ours.

I need to spend less time reading all those blogs and columns and more time writing! I can hear you nodding your head Miss Etta!

Did your Mama ever tell you that when you pouted she could walk to New York on your bottom lip? I was wondering if that was a commom mamaism.

Miss Faye

Follow the Leader Game on the Wild Side

Miss Faye,

Do you remember playing "follow the leader" when you were younger?

It was always fun to watch the older, more experienced kids lead the younger ones on adventures. One time, the older kids took me to a creek. I had to overcome my fear that day. The only acceptable way over the creek was to grab a small rope which was placed on a small limb. After much discussion and most likely a few tears on my part, I grabbed the rope. The older kids pushed me. And there I was, sailing over the creek. It was a rite of passage, I guess, to show I wasn't a baby anymore. Ah, we were so innocent.

The animals at the San Francisco Zoo appear to be trying the same sort of game lately. Of course, the tiger that climbed out of its enclosed area and the end results were horrific. I so feel for those poor families.

On the heels of that daring escape, it has been reported that more animals want to leave. Sort of a "follow the leader" sort of game. Now I don't know if it happened this week or in the last month, but I will tell you what I heard.

First the polar bear tried to climb out of its enclosure. Next, the snow leopard chewed through the mesh in its enclosure. Hmmm.. The zoo officials say the animals are denying they were trying to escape. Sure thing. Let's see. A wild animal leaves the compound and doesn't come back. Hmmmmm.

Follow the leader? Or the call of the wild?

Honor Our WWII Veterans!

Miss Faye,

I so enjoyed seeing the new column named "Military Matters in Fayette" this morning on the Fayette Front Page. I happen to know Mrs. Sparrow and her passion about the Honor Flight ranks right up there with mine for Mint Juleps. She's been working hard on this project and I can't wait to see a great article about it on the FFP.

Anyway, in reading the article, it reminds me of my papa, may he sleep sweetly. He was my gentle giant, a career Army man, and my hero. Even though he has been in eternal sleep for many a year now, I still recall his voice, his laughter, his smile, and his unyielding support of his country.

Just last year, I found the World War II Registry of Remembrance at the website for the World War II Memorial. Did you know you can submit the names of your own personal World War II veterans to it? It was an easy process as I recall. I was happy to list my precious papa's name, as well as that of his younger brother. These men fought for our country and I want everyone to know I'm proud of them.

Did you hear it's going to rain again tonight? Why, that is certainly a prayer being answered.

Talk to you later. Right now, I feel a strong urge to go look at a picture of my papa in uniform and send a prayer thanking God for my papa and his devotion to Him and to our country.

Miss Etta

Tickled green

You really tickled my funny bone thinking about painting a room bruise green. Although it is funny, I would encourage you to choose another color.

I am so, so sorry I have neglected our communications in the Journal. I have been away having fun and am now so tired I'm not even sure if I should be writing.

Your fascination with bruises had my mind traveling again. Have you ever thought about how many different greens there are in the world? I have a lot of indoor plants surrounding my computer. There are ferns, and spider plants, and cacti and plants with names I have long forgotten. All green and no two alike. The depth of colors is amazing.

I enjoy painting although I don't begin to think I could ever make a living from my art. However, it does leave me with an appreciation of the variety of colors in the world.

I can get lost inside some paintings, especially those by our Impressionist masters. If you ever look closely at a painting by Monet, Manet or any of the other similar artists you will be amazed at the combination of colors they use to create an image. Vincent Van Gogh is one of my absolute favorite artists.

There's a new gallery in Tyrone over behind the Legacy Theater. They have some wonderful art for sale and on display. I talked with the new owners for a while --- they are very nice and knowledgeable. I think it's worth a little trip over there to see some of the paintings.

Ah well, my clock is not ticking correctly yet. My eyes are trying to close and it is only 9 p.m., long before my normal bedtime.

I will try to write again in the morning Miss Etta. I look forward to finding out what you've been doing these past few days.

Miss Faye

Sorry I haven't been around to chat, but I was out enjoying the
beautiful weather in our neighborhood. Since the weather warmed up,
I ran out of the house so I could feel the warmth of the sun beating
down on my frozen body. I also had the opportunity to watch some of
our local youth compete head to head in some league tennis matches.
It really amazes me to see the commitment and how well they play.
There was even an extra added feature this weekend. One of players
also got hurt.

Is this funny? No. It's not. The player did the warmup stretches
as dictated by the coach. During the match, this young player
reached down, grabbed the ankle and started limping. A medical time
out was called using the USTA guidelines. Ice was applied. The
player, while in obvious pain, elected to finish the match. By the
time the match had ended, we spectators had two observations.

One is the way the player was smacking those tennis balls. Guess the
player decided not to move, therefore, put the pain of the foot into
each shot. I'm not sure if the space shuttles had more power at
their disposal than those particular tennis shots had. Of course,
the player did succumb to the pain and lost the match. These things
happen.

The second more interesting observation was the array of colors that
formed on the player's ankle right after the match. It started as a
small red spot, only to go into a large red spot, followed by
darkening of the skin. The player was quickly checked out and given
the unofficial diagnosis of "ankle sprain." The player is using the
RICE technique, which is rest, ice, compression and elevation above
the heart. I'm told the swelling started soon after they got off the
court.

Bruises are interesting in the colors they provide. Yes, it is
bleeding into the tissues, hence a wakeup call that something is
wrong. I remember getting bruises off and on. They always are
entertaining to watch as they go through their cycles of color.
First, it's red, thus signaling an inflammatory type reaction is
going. Then, they can turn purple. As they get better, they can
turn a nice yellow-green, then brown, then return to a normal color.

Today, as I reflect on the young player's injury, I have two
thoughts. Buy the parents a hammer so the player always elects to
use those power shots. The second is to watch the bruises so I can
pick out just the right paint color for the room I need to paint.
After all, those colors are provided by nature. Does that mean those
colors qualify as "green"? Something else for me to ponder, Miss Faye.

Teeth chattering cold and fireplaces

This cold, cold weather just makes me want to snuggle in front of a roaring fire with a good book.

Miss Etta, have you ever chopped wood for a fire? There is an art to chopping wood. There is a finer art to keeping your toes attached to your legs when chopping wood. Somehow, while I never mastered the art of chopping wood like a pro, I did manage to keep all my toes and fingers.

I was a very hesitant wood chopper, although I finally did get the hang of it. The idea of that big old heavy axe swinging full circle into one of my body parts kept me from doing the smooth, heavy swing that I see so many others use.

I'm sure my attempts would have made a very funny video for one of those shows on TV where people do silly things. My way of splitting a piece of wood generally involved somehow getting the axe embedded into the wood and then picking up the axe with attached wood and banging until it split.

I have to admit I wasn't choosy enough when it came to which wood I tossed into the fireplace some days. When you're shivering wood is wood. If it burned it was going into the fire.

If you've ever put wet wood into your fire you'll never forget the sounds and smells. Then there are woods that burn so fast you stay warm just tossing it into the fireplace. Then there are some that never seem to catch, they just sit there like a piece of iron.

And oh, it's not just wet wood that can smell. Woooeee, some woods can have you sitting on the front porch wrapped in blankets with the house windows open.

I did so love having a fire burning during those cold winter days though. We don't have too many really cold days down here in our home of choice thank goodness.

These days most fireplaces have gas logs in them or they are just for decoration. We have a huge fireplace with gas logs in our home. I know I shouldn't tell on myself, but I have no idea how to turn those things on and I think I might freeze before I figured it out.

One time during the coldest of winter our electricity went out and I decided to give it a look. Teeth chattering, hands shaking, I opened the bottom and started peering at the instructions. After a few minutes of trying to decipher the words, I went and got a flashlight. It didn't help. Thank goodness the electricity came back on before I had to go looking for matches.

We have a total electric house so there is a separate tank that is hooked up to the fireplace. It has been sitting out there for so long that I would certainly imagine that whatever is in there has either evaporated or separated into water and goo.

But it is such a beautiful fireplace. And I never have to clean out the ashes or worry about the sparks burning little places in the carpet.

The Race Is On

Miss Faye,

I know you had to watch the Iowa vote last night. I was interested in this race and I'm not really into politics. I guess it's the fact that for the first time, I believe there are viable candidates who could bring a change of face to the White House. When I say a change of face, I don't mean they will change the party politics. I watched the results on the Fayette Front Page last night. It was much easier to do that than sit in front of the TV watching, yet another Bowl game.

I find it interesting that Obama beat Clinton. I wonder if it was because Obama is really so much better looking than Clinton? It will be interesting to see what happens on both sides of the aisle in New Hampshire. Of course, I won't make up my mind until they all come to Georgia. What is made up in my mind is the party I typically support. Born and bred, you might say.

Speaking of Bowl games, I'm done. Just give me the one who determines who the final champion will be and I'm happy. I know what you'll say. The games are important to all the schools who get to participate in their "big show." I did feel sorry for Hawaii, though. They just didn't seem ready to play with the big dogs- either that, or their nerves couldn't settle down for the large crowd.

I guess if I'm going to think about more bowls, I should just close my trap and go make something to put into one. Ahh, the Fayette Chili Bowl?

Crazy weather

Now I don't give much credence to the global warming thing. I've been around long enough to yawn when another chicken-little starts yelling about the sky falling, the ice age coming, DDT, and all that mess.

And just in case some yahoo out there wants to start yelling at me about global warming or taking care of our world, I consider myself a good steward of the environment.

The drought is troubling. Water is going to be a huge concern for many years to come, not just here but all across the world. There are just so many people and we keep building and building. We know we don't have enough water in an area to support a ton of people but we build anyway. Somehow we always seem to muddle through these things, though. Better minds than mine are puzzling over how to deal with the water situation. I'll just keeping doing my tiny part to try and help.

The weather is crazy right now. Not enough rain, then just enough to keep us from breaking that old 1950's record. And this cold snap. Short-lived from what I read, then we're back to spring-like weather again.

This isn't that abnormal though. I can remember years with record-breaking freezes right on the heels of shorts wearing sunshine. I remember Christmas days where we hadn't broken out our jackets yet. It just seemed abnormal to get a Christmas card depicting a sleigh ride through snow-laden forests while sitting in the sunshine on our front porch.

One of the things I really dearly love about living in Georgia is the ever-changing weather. It gets warm enough in the summer to appreciate the swimming pool and cold enough most years to enjoy a cup of hot cocoa in front of the fire. I wouldn't want to live somewhere that I had to shovel out the driveway to get to work and I wouldn't want to live in an area where I could hit the beach 365 days a year.

I love our crazy weather.

Miss Faye

SNOW in GA?

Now don't that just beat all? Last week, we were running around in our short shirt sleeves. Today, we're shivering. And I mean, really shivering. It's so cold this morning that I feel like I need to go into hibernation. Good thing I packed on a few extra pounds over the holidays!

To top it off, it snowed in North GA last night. Looks like the extreme northern counties all have a little snow on the ground. If you watch the radar real close from the last few hours, it looks like we should have had a few flurries ourselves. The air was too dry so it couldn't hit the ground, though.

Is this an omen for 2008? With 2007 officially clocking in as the 2nd worse rain year since 1954 in the Atlanta area, I can only hope this snow issue will continue.

The drought brings up an interesting thought that's been running around in my head. Back in the mid 50s when the last really big drought happened, what was the effect? There certainly weren't so many millions of people in the area depending on Lake Lanier and Lake Allatoona. I rather doubt Florida was taking the water for their endangered mussels at that time. So, can you tell me? What were the effects on the locals in the area back then? Couldn't have been much as no one ever talks about it, and metro Atlanta still grows every year. Guess I'll ponder on this for some time.

Guess I'll keep looking out the window today in hopes some precipitation will decide to head our way. A better idea would be for me to crawl back under the warm blankets and read peacefully.

Miss Etta

Almost took a day off!

Miss Etta, I almost decided not to write today. Well, it wasn't that I decided NOT to write, I just kept putting it off and putting it off because I couldn't think of a thing to write about.

I think staying up to watch the new year come in last night through my internal clock off kilter.

As you can see, I couldn't finish the day without writing something, even if it is nothing.

Did you see on the Fayette Front Page where they have officially had the first case of influenza? It was in DeKalb County, which is not too far from here.

I suppose that most people don't go to the doctor when they have the flu so it's difficult for the officials to really know when the flu came to Georgia.

I know I will just suffer through most illnesses rather than traipse into the doctor's waiting room for an few hours of waiting. Usually by the time I realize I would have been better off going to the doctor I'm on the mend.

I didn't get my flu shot. I know I probably should have, but I go back and forth. One year I had the shot. I got the flu. The next I didn't get the shot. I got the flu. Every year I manage to come down with the flu no matter how many vegetables, how many vitamins and how many preventative herbs and over-the-counter remedies I try.

Well, I have talked a lot about something. It is now no longer January 1st. I have piddled around with my writing until I am now 5 minutes into January 2nd. I think I might count this as writing both days just in case I wake up in the same kind of mood later today.

I am going to get some sleep. I expect the second day of the year to be a busy one.

Miss Faye