Erma Where Are You

Showering with my best friend.......

2020-04-18T02:03:00.004-05:00

We are ALL in a different place today than we were several yesterdays ago. I said in my last post I would NOT get into the current events.

However,

Blessings surround each of us. All the time. Daily even. But we don't often take the time to stop and notice them. Or, we take them for granted until the day they are no longer. I've had a lot of excess time on my hands with the pickleball courts presently off limits. It's given me some time to do a little self reflection.

Today, I realized I am truly blessed to have an unbelievably incredible, caring, patient, talented dog groomer. I've known Christina for ages. I, at one point, had the privilege to teach her only daughter. (Yep, talk about feeling old. That little cutie patootie is now a full grown woman! When the heck did that happen?) Sorry, I digress.

To get back on track; Christina, great groomer. I always appreciated that I could call up, ten minutes later drop off Maggie, and then I'd get a phone call a couple of hours later informing me she was ready for pickup. Voila ~ a beautifully groomed and manicured dog who smelled fabulous.

During this "downtime" Maggie's hair has grown exponentially. I reached the point I could not handle her hair obscuring her vision. She was literally tilting her head at an angle in order to see. Additionally, she was now far from her usual pleasant smelling self. She had a lingering scent that could be associated along the lines of something one could purchase from the Peppe La' Pew & Friends catalog. Not to point fingers or noses, I too, during this "downtime", have not always exuded the most pleasant fragrance either.

So, what's a girl to do? That's right, we showered together. One of us was there willingly, the other, not so much.

To Maggie's credit, she calmed down and did rather well once she realized she could NOT escape from the shower. She sat patiently while I towel dried her. She even sat still while I got out the scissors. However, there was a substantial amount of side eye glances at me. I can truly state, before today I had never actually heard a dog groan out loud before. And even though I used detangling spray on her goldendoodle coat, she wasn't the most pleasant when I ever so gently combed out her matted fur and then blew it semi-dry. It was when I decided to go a little farther in her fur trimming, maybe even a little overboard, that things got a little spicy.

Don't judge me, I recently saw a bunch of your social media posts showing old photos of haircuts and bang trims your mothers gave you back in the day.

Needless to say, currently my dog will not have anything to do with me. Even when I attempted to bribe her with a bone treat. She went into a self imposed exile. You know a dog is completely dejected when you watch them walk over and OPEN their own kennel door to walk in and lay down - with their butt facing you. I'm hopeful her disdain for me passes quickly.

Christina, tonight I raise my glass to you. I appreciate you more than you'll ever know. Please put Maggie in your calendar for the first available appointment. I pray she will be on good terms with me by then.

In closing, I just read a quote that resonated with me:

If you want to go fast, go alone.

If you want to go far, go together.

~ African Proverb ~

I look forward to going far with you....

Thanks for reading!

Coke Can Man ~

2020-04-06T13:22:00.000-05:00

The world, she is a changing. Seems we're all
inundated from every direction with regards to politics and Corona Virus, which subsequently has been retitled ~ Covid19. Two things I promise I shall NOT discuss. I won't say EVER because, well, ever is too long a time to try to contain or maintain.

What I will talk about today is Coke Can Man. He's not an urban legend. He's real. And I've seen the photo to prove it! Warning..... you'll see a modified version at the end of the tale.

I truly feel for the youth of today. Heck, I feel for the middle aged today. Additionally, I feel for the old today. I feel for all single woman (and men for that matter as they've shared stories with me too) in any of the aforementioned categories. (Well, not ALL single women.... there are more than a handful that will see the fiery pits of Hell, but I'm not going to worry about them. I'll let God handle that. They know who they are, and He certainly does too.) Ok, back to the ones that I do care about.......

I feel for you..... 2020 is definitely a DIFFERENT place than it once was. For all the incredible advances we've had in just the past 35 years, we've definitely taken substantial steps backwards as well ~ specifically within the realm of dating.

What was once termed the dating pool (where legend had it there were plenty of fish to be found - yes, I realize I'm mixing my metaphors but at least I'm not mixing a cocktail at 8:30 in the morning) is now a dating cesspool (where the faint of heart are afraid to venture for fear of the creepy, slimey, creatures that congregate there).

Case in point ~ Coke Can Man ~ He was found on a dating site. By all outward appearances, he was an attractive individual. A grandpa even. Well groomed. Articulate. Educated. Employed. Pleasant sense of humor. No felonies or ankle bracelets. No bankruptcies. He was, however, a Harley rider. Not that it in itself is a problem. Just not an activity that the woman he was talking to was interested in, nor would she ever be. It was my understanding that was made extremely clear. In fact, that was a dealbreaker for them to continue "talking" in a dating sense, but they decided to remain in the platonic friend zone as they had so many other interests in common.

Fast forward a couple of weeks when a ding on a cell phone indicated a message had been received to the woman from the "platonic friend". The unwitting female opened the message and was shocked to find a photograph which she had never wanted, wished, or requested. In fact, she had at one point during their earlier conversations stipulated that was something NO ONE should ever send to her. It was a full color selfie of his penis positioned next to a coke can so she could visualize size and dimensions.

With speed and dexterity that surprised herself, she responded only seconds after receiving the poorly thought out photograph with a comment that still astonishes her to this day. "Ah, so you prefer the mini cans of Coke!" Needless to say, the texted response to her called her everything but her name. He determined that her lack of amazement for his photography skills and appendage deemed her: a man hating bitter bitch of a woman with a heart of stone who was going to die an unloved, unwanted hag.

Thank goodness for some of technologies advances. Delete. Block. Gone forever.............. Coke Can Man became dust in the wind. It will, however, be a lingering memory for all whom have seen, but will never be able to forget.

Happy to be a Fresca Girl

Merry Christmas to ALL ~ Well, mostly all........

2019-12-26T11:55:00.002-06:00

Ok, I know, I know, I said that the next post would be "Coke Can Man", however, in keeping with the spirit of Christmas, I should delay in posting it at least one more day.

I'm hoping that everyone (ok, NOT everyone but the vast majority) had an awesome, stress-free, low anxiety filled Christmas. I have so very much to be thankful for and am reminded daily, and sometimes hourly!

This holiday season has seen the beginnings of many new traditions. (Thank you FF!) Union Station for the Polar Express Pajama Party ~ Yes, #1, Nakita-Bear, Sloane-Baloney, and I ~ BONUS: we all wore matchy jammies. Old Navy isn't just for youngsters!

The family got to share our present exchange celebration on the 23rd with #1's loved one and her #1. (He is absolutely adorable!) Love seeing Christmas through the eyes of a child (9). Don't get me wrong, I still get excited seeing Christmas through the eyes of my children ~ lol lol lol ~ 30, 28, 26 & 22. Yep, they're still my children and will always be. It was fun to see how excited one son was with his new iron (and I'm not talking a golf) and how excited the 9 year old was with an old fashioned bubble gum dispenser. The excitement was almost equal.

We did miss one of my #5's. Petie wasn't able to make it to our gift exchange because he had to jump a plane for Alaska at the last minute. He received a call that the delivery had been expedited on his FIRST and GREATEST gift. He and our beautiful Kyla were blessed with the arrival of their first child, a precious son, Barrett.

Early Christmas Eve morning we loaded up, complete with the husky hyena, Acey, and my purty girl, Maggie, and headed off.....

~ We Arrived ~

#NewTraditions #ChristFest2019 ~

Skiing 35 years ago was a breeze, but then again it was prior to two titanium screws in an ankle, a partial knee replacement, and a shredded bicep tendon. Good news, I only fell once ~ it was within 50 ft from the bottom ~ Bad news, I was taken out by a 4 year old named Skyler. The only thing hurt was my pride. But a margarita and a Baileys coffee later, I was fine.

Unexpected Blessings During ChristFest2019

The steaks, while not cooked the way we had intended, were still edible.
You can actually buy hiking snow boots at the grocery store.
Winning an 85 to 1 bet #2 & #3 had on me dumping off at the end of the ski lift.
Lovely condo, complete with built-in tri-level "Butt Master".
Brother's "accidentally" setting up their baby brother on a mogul run. (The blessing was that he lived through it and made it to the bottom unscathed.) On a side note, it's 10:42 and he's still asleep.

Until later......

Tell those you love that you do.

Take inventory of all your blessings.

Be a secret, silent, blessing to someone.

No one ever has to whine to get wine, just call me and I'll pour.

The Hiatus is OVER.....

2019-12-12T09:19:00.001-06:00

Let's see about shaking out the mental cobwebs, wiping off the keyboard dust, and dropkicking this blog back into go mode.........

It's rather ironic that the day I decided to get motivated and jump back into the writing pond is the most dreary, arctic freezing gale, all over ~ nasty day. Little bonus, it's only Thursday, December 12th and not the fear provoking, legendarily superstitious Friday, 13th.

For those of you "in the know", I'm good and getting better each and every day. For those of you who aren't, doesn't matter..... I'm good and getting better each and every day.

I'm extremely blessed with (some) GREAT family and (some) Great friends. If you don't fall into either of the categories, try harder in 2020. 😏

I hope this Christmas season brings happiness, contentment, and peace to everyone reading this. (And of course, to those who aren't reading this as well......) Feel free to share a link to a friend or loved one who you think might enjoy my ramblings. What the heck, go ahead and send the link to someone you don't like, maybe it'll be painful experience for them, lol lol lol.

In the meantime, I've got to run to the grocery. I've been asked to make Jello-O Shots for an Ugly Sweater party ~

Check back tomorrow for my new posting, "Coke Can Man".

Erma Where Are You?

Maggie

(I'm not a HoHoHo)

Go to the source...........

2019-04-04T11:51:00.002-05:00

Go to the source.......

Yes, it might not be the easiest path. It might cause you to be a little uncomfortable. Or it might even make you feel off the charts, your heart might stop, you could potentially puke all over, and you can't breath, uncomfortable. But in the long run, it is always better and should be the only way you go....

"Go to the SOURCE."

So let's take that saying back to where it began.... H2O, okay maybe not as far back as the molecular level.... Water. Go to the source for the best water. Think about it, if you go to the source, the very beginning where the water originates, you will ensure that you have the cleanest, purest, best water there is! If you don't go to the source but rather gather your water further downstream, you're getting water that's been exposed to all sorts of elements. Think about what elements that can be folks. That old saying, "Does a Bear chit in the woods?" Yep, it does. Along with chit from birds, beavers, fish, opossum, deer, see where this goes on and on and on..... but that's not all folks, they also leave behind their pee, and where do you think those animals go to bath? Do you really want to consume that mess? That's a LOT of chit!!

This relates to all aspects of life...... Go To The Source ~ GTTS

You hear a rumor? GTTS
You read something on social media? GTTS

If you don't go to the source, you going to end up with a bunch of chit mixed in with the truth!

Thought of the day: Hold those close to you closer ~ unless you are sitting on a bar stool next to a stranger. You'll want to skip holding them closer. The police get called, photographs without filters are taken, and there is a very limited amount of people that look good in orange. Just trust me on this one.........

The New Girl In My Life..........

2019-04-01T07:59:00.004-05:00

I have a new love in my life. Her name is Maggie. She is definitely my forever. She is beautiful, considerate, playful, loving, and ~ she loves to snuggle. But the very best trait of all...... she doesn't shed!!!

For those of you who've read ErmaWhereAreYou before, say in January, you already know that I haven't suddenly become a lesbian, but rather the happiest of puppy owner's. Maggie is definitely and continues to be a major joy in my life.

We are working hard at training. She and I have now mastered sit. She does it with zero effort; whereas I can sit, but not comfortably on a piece of furniture that is extremely low or extremely high. We know "down", "shake" (both front paws separately), and can make it halfway over attempting the major "rollover". Both she and I have our own renditions of these. And for one of us, not naming any names, it's quite comical to watch...... (so I've been told).

Maggie is very sensitive to my moods and feelings. She's quick to "get it" when I'm needing a little more affection or snuggles but she's completely dense when it comes to say why I don't like or want her tongue down my ear. Not sure what it is about ears, but this hairy furball loves them!

I've about crippled myself more times than I can count due to her stealth-like lay mode. She can sneak up next to me and lay next to my feet all without my knowledge, that is until I'm flying through the air trying not to fall or smush HER. And then she looks at me with those huge, big, brown eyes that are shouting, "What the heck are you doing? You look like you're going to kill yourself. And then who will be here to feed me............."

She's made it to the point where she'll give me a one bark and nod to go out. Doesn't matter if it's 2:30am. (I really need to work on teaching her to tell time, but so far those early "outs" are few and far between so I can't hold it against her. God knows how many middle of the night "outs" I personally have to make.)

She really wants to help. Take the laundry for example. No, that's what she does. She takes the laundry. From the dirty laundry hamper in the bedroom. From the sorted piles in laundry room. From the basket containing all the freshly folded laundry. You'll find her in a well constructed "nest" of laundry, sometimes it's under the kitchen table, in a corner, in her kennel or in one of the bathrooms. She likes to mix it up. Much like the Easter Bunny, never leave it in the same place twice in a row.

One thing I decided early on with this furbaby, she will NOT be the recipient of ANY human table food. She has lots and lots of treats specific to her breed but she will not get human food from us, the humans in her life. Benefit, I don't have to worry about her putting on extra weight, BONUS...... I can open and eat cheese right next to her and she doesn't pay any notice of it. Annie and Acey on the other hand will leave a puddle of doggie spit where they are if cheese is opened anywhere near them. And when I say, anywhere near them, I mean on the same level of the same building they're in.

We're not sure exactly how large Maggie is going to get. The vet is taking a "wait and see" approach. We'll wait until she stops growing and then we'll see how big she is. Right now, she's weighing in at a lean 23.5 lbs. but she stands as tall as Annie my German Shepherd.

Up until now, I've boasted on and on about how wonderful she is. Just like life, there is always a downside to everything. It's just how accepting of the downside we're going to be that determines if it's a deal breaker or not. In Maggies case, it's not a deal breaker just a breathing deterrent. My beautiful, adorable, cuddly baby girl, has the most rancid, noxious, room clearing gas of any living organism I've ever come across in my 55 years! It's so bad, the other dogs will leave the room. But it's not all the time. Her diet remains consistent, so it's not from anything she's eating. I haven't been able to find a correlation, but I shall continue to strive to do so. For the sake of all within a 16 foot vicinity of her and her behind.

So, once again....... Thanks again to my wonderful sons for the most thoughtful, loving gift they could have given me for Christmas. She's definitely the gift that keeps on giving.

And to those reading this, "May you be filled with the love of family and friends, may peace and tranquility surround your heart and home, and may real laughter flow from your heart and maybe a little pee down your leg. Happy April 1st.........."

What Do I Want To Be When I Grow Up...........

2019-03-02T16:32:00.001-06:00

What do I want to be when I grow up? Just a short while ago that wouldn't have been a questions to enter my mind. But it is now......... And my first response is Ron Scrogham. Unless you were blessed to have been a student / parent / teacher at St. Pius X High School the name Ron Scrogham will mean absolutely nothing to you. But amazingly most people who get the opportunity to know him will tell you the same thing, they what to be him when they grow up. He's scarily smart, but never makes you feel stupid or a lessor human, he's extremely well traveled, multi-lingual, unpretentious, and could probably give Miss Manners some additional lessons in etiquette - but would do it so subtly she wouldn't even know she'd been schooled. How often do you find an individual that everyone looks up to? I would love to grow up and be Ron Scrogham, but I've accepted the fact that won't happen, it's not in the cards. I'll just have to be thankful he's a friend and always makes himself available for answering questions on ......... hmmmm, just about any subject. Haven't hit on one yet that he's not been able to be helpful.

That's the big question these days. What do I want to be when I grow up? I accomplished my goals early on. I always wanted to be a momma. But just not any momma. I wanted to be a GREAT Momma. I wanted to love and be loved on. I was blessed to have done a dang good job of that too. And that reality is evidenced by the fact that my four birth sons still invite me to do things with them, and they still want to do things with me. I still get emails and Facebook messages from their friends. And when those friends come to town, it warms my heart beyond words when I get a phone call asking if they can stop by. For future knowledge, I have a completely open drop in policy. If you are in town, please STOP BY.

In two blinks of an eye life has changed exponentially. These are the moments that you're never told about, until you're standing smack dab in the middle of it. Kind of like childbirth. You never hear those horror stories from loved ones and well meaning friends until you are days away from dropping that baby out of your womb room. And that's definitely NOT the time you want to hear all the horror stories they've saved up to share until the last minute. Couldn't they have mentioned it BEFORE you got pregnant?

That's how I feel about this new stage in life, "The empty nest syndrome". It's true everyone handles it differently, but no one ever told me what it could be like. It was like a secret initiation. But you have to be waist deep in it before they say, welcome to the freakin club. And trust me, this is definitely a club I would rather not have been a part of. I've got friends who stocked their wine cellar just for the celebration they were going to throw when their kiddos left. Once stood at the door waving goodbye with one hand to her beloved youngest while she was changing the garage code with the other.

I've always been one of those mothers who truly enjoyed being around her children. And around all her children's friends. And the friends of their friends. My house couldn't be over filled with too many kiddos. I was the cooking and baked goods queen. I thrived on it! Now all my boys are MEN people. My job is done, they have all been taught to cook, bake, clean, iron, sew, change a tire, lend a hand, change a diaper, and be a good friend. I am extremely proud to have raise no ones future horrible husband! They are all doing well in their respective careers, or intended career paths. But sadly, they truly don't need me anymore, but I'm blessed because the still WANT me.

Now my days are filled with more empty space than I ever imagined possible. When the boys were younger I would have paid to be able to have the opportunity to take a leisurely bubble bath, now I have the time but I don't because I'm a little fearful that if I get in there, there is a small but realistic chance I won't be able to get out - without help. It's a dang big tub! Once upon a time, I did a minimum of four loads of laundry a day and still had piles to work on over the weekend. I could never catch up. Now I wander around the house looking for enough items I can throw in the washer to justify an entire load.

So for the time being, I'm going to keep my eyes open, my pickleball gear at the ready in my car. I'm going to continue to make homemade lemonade, but now I'm going to add equal parts lemonade to Woodford Reserve. And keep looking for what I want to be when I grow up. ~

Glenda ~ The Good Witch

2019-02-26T21:21:00.002-06:00

Every family has a "STAND OUT". The overachiever. The sweetest. The kindest. The nicest. The one who can do no wrong, because they can't even conceive the idea of doing wrong.

In my family ~ not the one that I gave birth to, but the one I was born into ~ that ONE would be my little sister, twenty years my junior ~ Glenda. She is goodness personified. I like to equate her to "Rainbows and Unicorns" and her unicorns shit Skittles. So beware people, if you can piss Glenda off, you will one day burn in Hell. I've never heard her say a bad word about anyone. She always looks for and finds some sort of goodness in people. With regards to the Devil himself she'd say, now Michelle, you know he was once an Angel before he fell from Grace.

Her name was not always Glenda. Our father and her mother didn't name her Glenda, I did. The name they put on her birth certificate was Tiffany Diane. Let's get this straight right now, I was six months away from turning 21 when she was born. And I'll be the first to acknowledge that at the time, I was far from happy about her impending birth. After all, I had been the ONLY daughter for 20 something years.

My first nickname for her was Boo. (Yep, I was way ahead of time. It's so very commonplace today, but it wasn't 34 years ago.) The reason she became Boo was due to fits of crying; exaggerated, embellished and completely theatrical crying. She would do this when she didn't get her way. "Boo, boo who who...." I'd laugh at her and tell her she really had to try harder! That usually ended with her in fits of laughter. And that folks is how she morphed from Tiffany to Boo. It stayed that way until she gave birth to her own first born.

It was about that time the name Glenda came into play. Unless you live in a very remote, obscure location, in say Outer Mongolia, you should be familiar with Glenda. As in Glenda the Good Witch. She and I can each say the same the meaning of the definition of a word or phrase, however, Glenda's comes across with such a sweetness that no one can turn her down, get irritated, misinterpret or get hostile. I, on the other hand, can simply look at someone and they turn and flee in the opposite direction. Something about me being extremely intense and very intimidating. Passionate maybe, misunderstood regularly. But I think I am very approachable, logical, and willing to listen to another's opinion. Unless, that opinion is moronic, imbecilic, or just plain stupid. And none of those issues bothers Glenda, she has the patience of Jobe.

Neither one of us realized how commonplace my nickname for her had become until our father was in intensive care. It took us a little bit to realize what was happening, all the nurses were calling her Glenda. They thought that was genuinely her name.

I finally found the perfect sister hoodies for us. What do you think?

Memories ~ Are you hearing Barbra singing?

2019-02-02T07:56:00.000-06:00

~~ Memories...... If you answered yes to hearing Barbra (either silently or out loud), your age is showing. And if it was out loud and you're sitting out somewhere in public please note people are probably looking at you questionably. If you answered, "Who is Barbra", your age is showing. For those in the "know" there doesn't even need to be a last name associated. The spelling alone will do the job.

On the road again, lol, now who's hearing Willie? Sorry folks, I guess this morning I'm channeling my inner Cristen ~ bright shiny object. (And no, googling Cristen won't help you identify her.) Let me attempt to get back on track. Memories, they can flash, flood, overwhelm, make us laugh, make us cry, make us ponder what in the world were we thinking at the time.

I find it absolutely amazing that all of our senses, you remember those, we learned about them in elementary school. Of course back then there were only five: sight, taste, hearing, touch & smell. WTH, if you google it now, they've up the number to 9. Not so sure I agree with the four new additions, but then they didn't ask me. Much like Pluto. Pluto will ALWAYS be a planet (and life long companion of Mickey). There's that dang bright shiny object again.... Sorry. Senses. Memories. I find it truly and absolutely amazing that all five of those original senses can alone, or in any combination together, trigger a memory that hits you as quickly as the speed of light. Yes, Mark Bollman, I'm exaggerating but you get my point.

And how a memory, triggered by one sense, can simultaneously trigger another different sense. Example: I can hear a song, and BOOM.... I'm remembering a Friday night dance after a football game 39 years ago . Slow dancing with my "first love" (yep, everyone has one). But in that very next instant, while I'm remembering how it felt, remembering the sounds, BOOM.... I can remember how he smelled. And it's actually such a strong memory, I can actually smell him. Of course no one else can, but it's there.

What's the first memory you can remember? I'd love to hear it! Mine, I was three. My dad was talking on the phone. He hung it up. I can remember it had a long curly cord and even the location of it on the wall in the kitchen. We walked into my bedroom and he let me pick out my favorite outfit, my closet doors slid open and shut. We're back in the kitchen and he's helping me finish buttoning up the little blue top / jacket. I looked like a little sailor. I remember him telling me today was a very special day because we were going to the hospital to pick up my mom and my brand new baby brother. I was three. It was March 1967.

I can't remember anything else from 1967 but that one stands out clear as day.

It's not just about the destination, but the journeys we take to get there. AND the memories we make along the way...... Now maybe my grown men boys will understand why I ALWAYS told them daily to "make good memories".

Points to Ponder ~

2019-01-30T21:24:00.000-06:00

Points to Ponder in Life ~ If you're looking for something deeply esoteric, go ahead and pass on by this posting......

How many times can you turn on the dryer again to "touch up" the load you haven't gotten around to folding yet?

How many trips can you make to the refrigerator before you actually get what you kept going there for?

How can there only be two of you in the house (because all of your beloved children have grown into men people and no longer live there) and someone uses the last of the toilet paper but doesn't replace it, and the one who did it blames it on the other?

How can your spouse continue to tell everyone you are a plant killer when the only time a plant / plants die is when you are out of town and the hubby and beloved sons are the ones who were supposed to water them?

How can your spouse count it as a mini-vacation when you go out of town to attend one of your parents funeral?

How can eleven bathroom hand towels disappear completely, and NO ONE knows how, within a couple of days?

How can a man stand in front of the mirror and say, "Wow, I put on 10 lbs. I need to drop them" give up one slice of toast a morning and a week later get on the scale 10 lbs lighter?

How can you cook a certain meal (not once a week but at least once a quarter or two) for 30 years and then be told, "hmmmm, I really don't care for this"?

How can you search for your phone for ten minutes when you finally realize that the missing phone is the one you're having a conversation on?

How can you lose three out of four pairs of Sam's Club multi-pack readers the day after you purchase them?

How can you not melt into a pile of goo or a sobbing mess:

When you look at and smell a newborn baby?
Cuddle a puppy?
Realize that your son paid for dinner without you knowing it?
Ride a horse?
Look back at photos of your grown men children when they were adorable little boys?
Watch families bow their heads together?
Realize how important everyone is in your life?

Auntie Smitty & Uncle Mamie ~

2019-01-29T01:00:00.000-06:00

Family Tier..... My father was an only child. My mother had one sister, but Linda had down syndrome so my brother and I never had any true aunts or uncle. We had a plethora of great aunts and great uncles (and trust me, we truly believed they were GREAT!). We also had a rather large quantity of cousins who we called "aunt & uncle" simply because in the South you do NOT call adults by their first name when you're a youngun. Expecially when most of those "aunt & uncle" were even significantly older than my parents. And then there are the very, very, close friends of your parents. You know the ones your parents chose for you to call "aunt & uncle". They are "family by choice" rather than blood.

That would be the category that Mamie and Smitty would fall into. My dad and Smitty worked together for years and years at Great Lakes Steel. It was a wonderful friendship because their respective wives also got along as well as the guys. Mamie and Smitty and Mickee and Gloria were like peanut butter to jelly. I can't remember a time when they weren't my Uncle Smitty and Auntie Mamie. However, for whatever strange and bizarre reason, I ALWAYS swapped up and called them Uncle Mamie and Auntie Smitty. They got to a point where they just accepted it. They also had two kiddos, Geno and Sandy. Yep, cousins without the same blood. (By the way, they still have them......)

Uncle Smitty was a decompartmentalized, metrosexual man way ahead of his time. If you went by appearance alone, you might think him to be rather intimating and gruff. He was a strong, bear of a man with a barrel chest and a military edged flat top. But his sparkling eyes and deep, infectious laugh that bubbled from deep within and erupted out like a volcano. He was a hard core, steel mill working, man's man, who unbeknownst to only the closest of the close had a secret addiction to day time soap operas. You didn't bother Uncle Smitty when his "show" was on.

Auntie Mamie is Auntie Mamie. She has the sweetest voice. She's the exact same size today as she was seventy plus years ago. I swear she found the fountain of youth and hasn't shared with anyone. She was one of those special adults who could get on to you, make you do the right thing without you ever realizing it even happened. She has one of the biggest hearts EVER. (**Disclaimer, if I mix up a tidbit of fact here, it's only in the slightest detail as I was quite young when this part of her story occurred.) She met an extremely distraught young woman pushing a stroller one day. The woman was visibly upset. Auntie Mamie had her come in and sit down and talk with her. The woman said she couldn't take care of her baby girl. The infant had special needs and the woman had her own demons she was trying to deal with. Auntie Mamie told her that she would take the baby in and mother her until the woman was ready to step back in. And that is EXACTLY what Auntie Mamie DID for a couple of years.

Growing up, our two families would vacation together. During the cold weather season, January was usually the month of choice to depart the frigid temperatures of Michigan. We'd pack up our two travel trailers, load up the cars, turn on the CB radio, and start the trek from Michigan to Florida. During warmer months, we'd head to Canada. Those trips were some of the best memories that stand out from my youth. This was definitely PRE-electronic games. There was one specific trip to Florida where we discovered the fun and pleasure of "butt holes".

We would dig a hole large enough for our behinds to fit in. This gave the illusion that our legs were coming out from our chest. We looked like we were two and a half to three feet tall sitting in those holes. (Yep, we didn't need much but a shovel and great imaginations.) We dug "butt holes" all around our two camp sites. It was all fun and games until the next morning when my father came walking out of the trailer, with his first morning cup of coffee and stepped down off the trailer step and straight into a butt hole dug by Geno. The entire KOA Kampground heard my dad bellowing GEEEEEENNNNNOOOOOOO echoing through the quiet morning air. Needless to say, boundaries were set for all future butt hole digs.

Just like Superman had kryptonite, my strong, manly man, Uncle Smitty had bridges. Yep, bridges. Never knew about it or realized it was a thing, until we had to cross the longest bridge in the state of Florida. I remember I was riding in the vehicle with them at the time. Before we began, Auntie Mamie warned Sandy and I, but me specifically (hmmm, anyone surprised that she was afraid I couldn't keep my mouth shut?) that we had to be very, very, quiet. As in don't talk, whisper, or murmur until we were on the other end of the bridge. If I didn't know better, I'd say that their dog was even holding his breath. To quote a southern phrase "you could have heard a gnat fart". That was the day I learned that "white knuckles" is a real thing. Uncle Smitty had such a hold on the steering wheel, that he truly had white knuckles.

Uncle Smitty took the lead and drove smack down the middle of that two lane bridge, all three miles of it. To my dad's dying day he swore that Uncle Smitty had an angel with him that day. The odds there wasn't an oncoming vehicle the entire length of that bridge was incomprehensible. Afterwards, my dad asked Uncle Smitty what would have happened should an 18-wheeler come across the bridge from the other direction. Uncle Smitty looked him straight in the eye and without a bit of humor said, "he'd better been good at backing that rig up because I wasn't going anywhere".

Fast forward to 1988. My hubby and I were getting married at my church home in Decatur, Alabama even though we both were living in Mission, KS at the time. My mom was very instrumental in planning my wedding. I know she truly enjoyed herself. When she got married, it was at the courthouse. One area I didn't fight her on (which I probably should have) was the guest list. We both had given her the lists of guest we wanted included. Our parents and my grandparents also indicated the individuals they wanted to be included at our nuptials. My mom was not only the manager of the list, but she was also the keeper of the RSVP's. Whenever I would ask who had responded, she would laugh and say, "It's a surprise, you'll see at the wedding".

Picture this...... Hubby and his best man and groomsmen are at the front of the church. My attendants have already walked down the aisle as well. The church is pleasantly but not uncomfortably filled. My dad is super nervous. For a man who never met a stranger and could strike up a conversation with anyone, he didn't like to be singled out with all the attention on him. So you can imagine his horror, as we're walking down the aisle I'm scanning the pews to see who all came to share in my special day when all of a sudden, I spot Uncle Smitty and Auntie Mamie. So of course, I do what no other rational bride does. I stop, hand my father my bouquet, squeeze into the pew and holler "UNCLE SMITTY"!!!!! Uncle Smitty turns as red as a KC Chiefs uniform and is completely transfixed. Auntie Mamie finally leans over and whispers rather loudly: "Smitty, Smitty, you better get up and go over to her, otherwise she's not going to walk down the aisle". So my poor, flustered, beloved Uncle, scooted down the aisle to give me a big bear hug. All the while I'm streaming tears of joy. When he's done hugging me, he whispers, "Michelle, you better get going. John is up there waiting for you", I told him ok that I'd see him later. My father was still standing there with a look of complete disbelief. His face was the whitest shade of white, he'd broken out in a cold sweat. I reached over and took my flowers said, "Okay, I'm ready to continue".

It wasn't until later at the reception when I introduced my hubby to Uncle Smitty and Auntie Mamie that he shared that had Uncle Smitty been ten years younger, we would have had to had a discussion BEFORE the vows were exchanged.

My poor Uncle Smitty took it all in stride! Oh how I love those two.... I hope they know what they both mean to me. It doesn't matter how much time passes, I love that I can call them anytime and without hesitation they recognize my voice and it's as if we had just seen each other earlier in the week.

Everyone needs an Auntie Smitty and Uncle Mamie in their life!!!

Help me I might fall and I'm not sure I want to get up........

2019-01-23T21:28:00.001-06:00

The hands on the clock of life seem to be spinning at the speed of a fan blade on high. Didn't we just celebrate 2018??? When and how did 2019 sneak in?

My dear friend Kim's mom passed away in January of 2018, my father passed away rather quickly and unexpectedly in April. My best friend from Centerville Ohio's dad unexpectedly passed away last week. Today I attended his Celebration of Life. He was a wonderful man with a great big sense of humor. He was our graduation trip destination - that'll be another blog entry for another time. His was a complete surprise departure from our world. My heart goes out to Lisa and her family. Additionally, I've gotten three phone calls notifying me of cousins who've all passed, all within the past two months. I am having a hard time accepting the knowledge that I'm now at a stage in life when I have to expect the unexpected.

I've now reached the point where I'm not so much worried about my own mortality but rather those I love, respect, and need / want in my life. I still NEED to be able to dial their number, hear their voice and chat with them whenever. I've never felt the need to contemplate this before.

My life mentor - Linda Bollman celebrated her 80th birthday in November. She's not aged, that I can tell, in the past 40 something years. Her voice is the same on the other end of the phone, her wit and wisdom remains intact, and her laugh can make any problem you have forgotten for the time being. (For those of you not familiar with her, I suggest you go back and read my blog WWLBD.

My Uncle Mamie and Auntie Smitty...... They both just had a big birthdays too. But you look and listen to them and you'd never know it. I need to make sure I share a couple of their stories. (But not tonight....)

Three months ago I gave birth to my first born son. What stumps me is that in a mere three weeks that same beautiful bundle of joy is turning 30. As in 30 FREAKIN years old!! We sat together the other day chit chatting and he informed me that this particular birthday was really bothering him. Life is going well for him. He likes his job, has a great apartment, but is still looking for his "forever love". He then went on to tell me that it wasn't so much the number he was turning, it was the fact that he remembered well when his father and I both turned 30.

Then throw my mom into the mix. Yes, my beloved mother, giver of life. When I got done sharing with her that I was having a hard time with Genesis' birthday, her loving comment of support turned out to be, "well honey, how does it feel to have a son turning 30"? My response, "Well mom, how's it feel to have a GRANDSON turning 30". She didn't appreciate it, the conversation ended rather quickly.

Thank you so very much beloved son.

At what point did I get old?? It's not like there's a specific date on the calendar you can look at and say, "wow, it's official my OLD is six months away". My hubby suggested to the boys (yes, they're men but they will forever be my "boys") that a great Christmas gift for me would be a MedAlert or something similar. You know, one of those buttons for people who've fallen and can't get up. Thankfully for me, they opted against his suggestion and went with a golden doodle instead. At least this way, if I'm on the floor and can't get up I'll have a bundle of warm fuzz to snuggle with me until someone finds my body.

While I'm mentioning my body..... what the devil is going on with my neck? Mom???? Oh, Glooooo...... Where are you??? There are things happening to my body you failed to share with me. One day my eyes went out (you'll notice that I've increased the font size on here). Another day my boobs decided my belly was a great place to rest. I now really crave a nap about 3:30 in the afternoon. And broccoli suddenly hates me!

Hmmmmm, there were a couple of other points I truly intended to share, but for the life of me I can't remember what they were now...... yep, yet another sign.

Sound familiar to anyone else? Well, since my brain has officially shut down for the day it seems appropriate for me to go put on my jammies, lotion my neck, turn on my electric blanket and carefully slide into my comfy bed and snuggle with my beloved fur baby.

For those of you who want a little "Ahhhhhhh" to wrap up reading this..... Here is my beautiful snuggly fur baby: Maggie Rose Ohboy Baker

Great Story.........

2018-12-10T01:58:00.002-06:00

While surfing through FB, bobbing and weaving through the political garbage and hateful tirades I saw something that really resonated with me..... Thank you Noel for sharing the video. The video was about a gentleman by the name of Rock Thomas, a motivational speaker I had not ever heard of before. Not that I could name any motivational speaker, I'm one of those people who abhors the whole "self help" movement (including but not limited to books and groups). Rock Thomas said, "You can have a great story, or you can live a great story".

What a great quote!!! It's so much better than the popular bumper sticker of the 1980's that read, "Shit Happens".

I want to live a great story! It's never too late. You can start living it today, after all what do you have to lose? Time is still going to move forward, whether or not you do. I went to college with an incredible guy, Gene. He was 70 something, retired, and a full time student. He was fully vested in college life. He went to sporting events, dances, and was even a participant in the Student Government Association (which was a student voted electoral position). Everyone on campus knew him, and he knew everyone.

Gene wasn't shy about telling people he never had an opportunity to go to college when he was younger. He served his country, came home and got married, had children, and then worked hard to support his family. Gene said the only regret he ever had was never going to college. When he retired he said it was the perfect time for him to go, after all what did he have to lose.

I'm not sure how many degrees Gene ended up getting, I do know there were several. When I left, Gene was still going strong......

I know that so far I've been working on a great story, I'm excited to see what the next chapter will be.

Chandler and the Christmas Cactus

2018-12-08T16:39:00.001-06:00

True story..... Fact not fiction and it's pretty wonderful. I was at a friends house, Terri S. Hodges-Newton. While she was showing me around, I saw an incredibly large Christmas cactus. (I had never seen one this large in my entire life.... I'm talking super HUGE!!!)

This Christmas cactus had an amazing amount of beautiful blooms. When I commented on it, Terri S. Hodges-Newton said it blooms twice a year. Once in December and the other in the month her dear sweet son Chandler passed. I exclaimed how awesome that was and jokingly asked her to send Chandler to my house because I've only gotten one or two blooms every couple of years for the past ten or so years (and NEVER at Christmas). She laughed and said okay, she'd do that.

Guess what happened and is continuing to happen. Every morning for the past four days, there's new blooms on my Christmas cactus.

Thank you Chandler!!!!

2018-12-07T21:21:00.001-06:00

I seriously don't understand what's going on in our country these days. Here are two examples.....

1) The controversy of the iconic song, "Baby It's Cold Outside". It's a seventy year old classic. But according to the #MeToo movement thinks it's inappropriate and promotes date rape, describing a man pressuring a woman to stay despite her adamantly telling him "no, no, no." If you really want to get pissy, please make sure you throw in that it is PROMOTING cigarette usage!!!

If you do NOT like it, it's actually really simple....... TURN THE STATION!!! Voila ~ Done ~

For the love of God and All That's Holy..... Listen to the lyrics of the original 1944 version:

(I really can't stay) But, baby, it's cold outside
(I've got to go away) But, baby, it's cold outside
(This evening has been) Been hoping that you'd drop in
(So very nice) I'll hold your hands they're just like ice

(My mother will start to worry) Beautiful, what's your hurry
(My father will be pacing the floor) Listen to the fireplace roar
(So really I'd better scurry) Beautiful, please don't hurry
(Well, maybe just half a drink more) Put some records on while I pour

(The neighbors might think) Baby, it's bad out there
(Say what's in this drink) No cabs to be had out there
(I wish I knew how) Your eyes are like starlight now
(To break this spell) I'll take your hat, your hair looks swell

(I ought to say no, no, no, sir) Mind if I move in closer
(At least I'm gonna say that I tried) What's the sense of hurting my pride
(I really can't stay) Baby, don't hold out
[Both] Baby, it's cold outside

(I simply must go) But, baby, it's cold outside
(The answer is no) But, baby, it's cold outside
(The welcome has been) How lucky that you dropped in
(So nice and warm) Look out the window at the storm

(My sister will be suspicious) Gosh your lips look delicious
(My brother will be there at the door) Waves upon a tropical shore
(My maiden aunt's mind is vicious) Gosh your lips are delicious
(But maybe just a cigarette more) Never such a blizzard before

(I got to get home) But, baby, you'd freeze out there
(Say lend me a coat) It's up to your knees out there
(You've really been grand) I thrill when you touch my hand
(But don't you see) How can you do this thing to me

(There's bound to be talk tomorrow) Think of my life long sorrow

(At least there will be plenty implied) If you caught pneumonia and died

(I really can't stay) Get over that hold out
[Both] Baby, it's cold outside

and;

2) I just read an article that stated that a Principal in Omaha, Nebraska banned candy canes. Yes, candy canes because their shape of a "J" stood for Jesus. Wow!!!! To think that I made it 54 years, 8 months, and 26 days and NEVER once thought a candy cane looked like a J for Jesus. The article posted on a news station site also stated that Santa Claus, Christmas trees, candy canes, and reindeer were off limits too.

On a positive note, a district spokesperson said that the Principal, bless her heart, had been placed on administrative leave, effective Thursday because her decisions does not reflect the policy of Elkhorn Public Schools regarding holiday symbols in the school.

Now would be a good time for us to bow our heads and say a little prayer for her.

Five Against One x 2 - OR - Drowning In Testosterone

2016-12-13T15:56:00.001-06:00

Testosterone at the Lake.....

I've always maintained that "God Loved Me More" because he chose to give my hubby stronger and faster Y chromosome swimmers. While my stand has always been that I would have been in jail early in the parenthood phase of my life had I been "blessed" with a daughter. I now believe, that while I never ended up in prison, I'm likely to end up in the crazy ward. But that is a story for another time.

I keep thinking at some point these wonderful testosterone makers "TM's" (including my hubby and all those 5th sons I've got) would one day wake up and realize that I'm outnumbered. It's a medically and psychology proven fact that men and women process differently, react differently, act differently, respond differently. Throw in fluctuations in blood sugar on my part and it's an open free-for-all. At some point I had hoped that these TM's would attempt to see things from my perspective.

That has been pretty much a pipe dream. Well actually, Genesis, (nickname for #1 son) came the closest to being able to see things from my perspective. But that was only because he was in a multi-year relationship with a South African princess, who was from an all women family. She made sure to point out on several occasions what my mindset was and where I was coming from. He was completely baffled and when he asked me about it, and I concurred, he was totally amazed. Now that that relationship has ended, I'm pretty much back to square one.

One summer weekend we actually ended up with "baseball free". I'm still not too sure how it happened, but I find it better to not question certain things in life. I've learned to just enjoy them! So with this "free weekend", I thought it would be fun to go to the Lake of the Ozarks on a little getaway. After all 5 out of 6 Baker's enjoy fishing. One Baker Boy is all about it, as long as something is on his hook, besides bait, in a matter of five minutes and continues to do so for the remainder of the fishing experience. If not, he's good to go read.

I personally find that with a family our size it is much more comfortable to get a condo or a house as opposed to renting two hotel rooms. (HomeAway and VRBO are two of my favorites!) I got online and luck and the cosmos were with me, as I found a perfect house, on the water no less! This place was huge.... So me being the idiot I am, who thinks "the more the merrier", told everyone that they could each invite a friend. The night or so before we were ready to leave on this fun filled getaway, everyone told me who their friend was that would be joining us. Number 1, 2, 3, & 4, and then my hubby pipes in and says, "oh, I invited my brother too". I was dumbfounded! Really?! Seriously?!!! When I said everyone could invite a friend, I really wasn't thinking about YOU. "I" am your friend!!! Too late now, the deed had been done.

So yep, there we all were, me and TEN testosterone makers. The big house was not feeling ALL that big once everyone got there and spread out. The downside of renting a house or condo is that with the exception of some nice tropical rentals, they do NOT come with cleaning or cooking staff. Don't jump to any conclusions! I did NOT have to do all the cooking and cleaning. As a matter of fact, all the boys (sans the brother-in-law) all pitched in and helped. I went to the grocery store (the Laurie Market loves to see me coming!) and made our purchases for the long weekend. (Remember with 10 TM's, there wouldn't be enough room in the vehicles for food and their cloths and sports/fishing equipment.)

They grouped up and all took turns making breakfast. Then the other group would cleanup. I whipped up sandwiches or burgers for lunch and then the tag-team approach would work again for dinner.

Sounds rather idyllic, right? And it was, except for two things: 1) the brother-in-law didn't lift a freaking finger the entire long weekend (To the extent that the boys were talking about it and apologizing for his behavior.); and 2) I spent the entire long weekend with ten crotch grabbing, scratching fools. And the worst part was they don't even realize when they are doing it. I know they all spend a lot of time on the baseball field, but come on man!!!

It really got the best of me when I was sitting in a chair on the dock fishing and reading (yes, I multi-task.... it keeps me from getting bored!) one TM walked up to ask me a question and BOOM right at my eye level, he grabs his junk. When I point out that he really didn't need to hold on to it, as it wasn't going to fall off his body and get lost, he just chuckled (but didn't let go). A while later a couple of TM's walked up and again, in my general eye level vicinity, BOOM. Yep there were a lot of hands holding or adjusting junk. I then let go with a sermon as to WHY I didn't want to see it anymore..... I then left my chair to go inside and cool down. I could hear the murmurings as I walked away. The general gist of the conversations were, "What's wrong with her?". "Why did she just lose her chit?"

At dinner time when I was seated at the table and the TM who was getting ready to take a seat next to me "adjusted". I called a meeting to order immediately. I informed them that they were so complacent and laissez-faire about it, they really needed to make some changes. (I cringe at the thought of their dates or girlfriends or people out in public having to witness this spectacle of the testical.) I told them that for the remainder of the weekend, every time they grabbed, scratched, or adjusted, I was going to grab my boobs with both hands.

Yepper, pretty silly to think that would embarrass any of them. Needless to say, by the end of weekend my "girls" had quite a workout. And the reconditioning was for naught.

In conclusion, if you see any of my birth sons or my fifth sons or ANY man for that matter out in public, grabbing, scratching, or adjusting - do NOT blame their momma. I'm sure she diligently tried, but we're only human. Some things are out of our control!!

Davis Tears Syndrome

2016-12-07T12:55:00.003-06:00

Davis Tears SUCK, sometimes! If you come from the Davis side of the family, you have a 95.9% chance that you are going to suffer from the debilitating condition termed Davis Tears Syndrome. It causes you to cry over a myriad of situations and scenarios. It doesn't differentiate between anger or happiness. It will hit you for either or both. This definitely is NOT a condition that lends itself to fair fight arguments either. It's hard to make a valid point when you are having to do so through a stream of pouring tears. And when you're already a sensitive person and you suffer from Davis Tears Syndrome....................

I never really thought much about Davis Tears Syndrome. I've always had it. You just accept it and go about life. We used to laugh that I had gotten it from my dad. He and I used to cry while watching old Shirley Temple movies, or listening to music, or watching a stupid Hallmark commercial, or reminiscing about loved ones who had passed on. You can imagine what it's like when something REALLY unsettling occurs! I never thought much about it growing up, it just was. My Grandfather Davis also suffered from it. I remember walking out of the last movie we ever saw together, "Savanna Smiles". My Gram was exclaiming what a nice movie it was and my Grandpa was shaking his head in agreement as his hankie was blotting his red rimmed eyes. And me, I was just a snot drenched mess.

Now remember, I mentioned earlier that the tears flow for happy, as well as joyful, exuberant, sad, and mad and angry and hurt. Or a combination thereof. Case in point: My wedding day was one of the most wonderful days of my entire life. I was marrying the man of my dreams. I could not have been more thrilled! As my father and I stood alone in the back of the church waiting for our music cue to start our walk, I looked him in his tear filled eyes and that started me going. And when I say going, I mean going...... From then throughout the ENTIRE ceremony. I'm talking through all the Who Do's, I Do's and We Wills. Through the kiss and the Mr and Mrs introduction.

Following the ceremony, our entire wedding party stood in a receiving line on the steps of First Presbyterian Church to greet everyone leaving. This is also the time that my hubby was getting to meet most everyone in attendance for the very first time. (Remember, I'm STILL blubbering - those Davis Tears are still flowing freely!) It was at this point that a sweet little old lady, she must have been one of my gram's friends, leaned in for a big hug and whispered into my ear, "Honey, are they making you marry this young man?". Startled and more than a bit in shock I responded, "Oh my goodness no! Why would you even ask such a question?". Her response, forever branded in my brain, "Well honey, I've never seen a bride cry throughout her entire ceremony. It got me to thinking that maybe they were forcing you!". I then quickly told her that I suffered from Davis Tears Syndrome and I cry when I'm incredibly happy too.

It wasn't until I connected with my cousin Melissa (thank you Facebook!) that I found out that Davis Tears Syndrome runs rampant in our family. And that the Ben Davis portion of our family was not the only members to actually call it Davis Tears! It permeates our entire trunk and all the little branches of our entire family tree. While I've never actually seen a Coat-of-Arms for our family, I'm thinking the design would have to incorporate the outline of the great state of NC, the mountains of the aforementioned state, a symbol for family and most DEFINITELY giant teardrops.

So if you suffer from this condition, welcome to the family! Somehow, somewhere we must be related. And don't worry, Davis Tears Syndrome is not fatal. Just remember, you need to keep yourself hydrated, you'll never know when the next bout will seize you. :)

Hot Babe in a Bikini......

2016-12-05T11:59:00.002-06:00

Out of the mouths of babes..... Well, once they were babes. Sweet, cute, adorable, precious little ones who loved and idolized their momma. Now they are grown (sometimes stinky, sometimes hairy) men, whose brains forget to filter thoughts before it exits their mouths. They can put their proverbial foot in their mouth as effortlessly and quickly as I can put a Hershey Bar with Almonds in mine.

Case in point, I'm on a new Lifestyle Change Journey ~ courtesy of my new endocrinologist. It's not just a dietary change. (Which is pretty significant since I have had to give up: dairy - ALL dairy - except for a little cheddar cheese now and then, flour, corn, soy, - almost the entire starch family - soda pop, no carb/low carb) I am changing how, when, and what I eat. As well as how, when, and what I do to exercise - daily. I'm now taking yoga and cardio classes and am trying to find a local tai chi class. (If you know of one north of the river in KC, let me know.) Now back to the point.......

Because of this new Lifestyle Change I am utilizing all my resources to help keep me in line and able to achieve this endeavor. I post LIVE FB feeds. Because I have been asked to. That's right, my path has inspired others to make modifications in their lives as well. I have a handful of "friemily" (friends who are so close that they are your chosen family) that I have on speed-dial. When I'm standing on a carb ledge and ready to jump, they calmly talk me down.

Positive reinforcement for me comes from verbal feedback from friends, the way my clothes fit, what the scale shows, and photographs. Don't get me wrong, I'm not jumping for joy with current photographs (that will come in time). I'm talking about photographs pre-my loving sons. You know before they absolutely destroyed my body (with my permission). And here is where paragraph one ties into this long winded conversation. I pulled out a photograph that I really liked from years gone by and put it on the refrigerator. I'm putting a pic of my fridge below so you can tell that this photograph wasn't the only one front and center. My fridge looks rather chaotic but it's covered in LOVE. I know where this special pic is and it positively reinforces my food selection before I open the door.

Needless to say, one of my sons (I shan't say which one as he is still recovering from the trauma) sees the new pic on the fridge and says, "Wow, who's the hottie in the bikini?". I think he's kidding, so I respond with "Really". He says, "Seriously who's the gorgeous girl?". "ME!! It's ME son!!!" And that's when his mental trauma begins. "Oh my gosh, the girl, the girl I thought was sexy was my mom. ARGHHHHHhhhhhhh". Remember paragraph one? "... brains forget to filter thoughts before it exits their mouth". Who the heck did he think I had put on the fridge?!?! Needless to say, the picture immediately came off.

For now I'll stick to positive reinforcement from my friends. But this is fair warning to ALL my SONS..... One day there will be a NEW CURRENT photo of me on the refrigerator, in a bikini!!! BE PREPARED

Inga Schvinga

2016-11-29T12:53:00.002-06:00

Once again, reality busting chops is far funnier than fiction. The year is 1998. The Baker family has made the move north of the river to a bigger house. The actual distance from our first house to our second house is 16.1 miles. In hind sight, I find it rather sad that I keep in contact and visit friends in Decatur, Al (682 miles away) and Allen Park, Mi (747 miles away) more than I do with friends 16.1 miles away.

My hubby had decided to do a bit of landscaping at the new house. He had already brought one load of decorative landscape bricks in our van and decided another load was necessary. He sent me on my way to pick-up the second load but not before he admonished me to be exceptionally careful, as the weight load was rather excessive and the springs on the van might be compromised if I drove too fast.

On my way into our new subdivision I had the mispleasure (yep, new word) of pissing off a new neighbor. I could tell by the way she stayed 3/4" from my back bumper and the eye piercing glare she was shooting my way because my tortoisesq speed was not to her liking. I really thought she was going to clip me when I turned into our cul-de-sac.

The next morning was Sunday, the hubby was up bright and early working on the front yard. I had a couple of minutes to kill before our 8 month, 4, 6 & 8 year old sons were up and at it. So, I decided to go out and visit with the hubbster while he piddled about. Needless to say, when I made this decision I was still in a man's seersucker bathrobe with my hair piled high up on my head. I grabbed an old folding lawn chair and promptly plopped down close to the weed pulling man. He took one look at me, laughed, and stated the new neighbors were going to think the Beverly Hillbillies had moved in. Needless to say, I went inside and cleaned up.

After picking up the kiddos from school on Monday, I noticed the car in front of me entering the neighborhood had the woman in it that I previously detained. I thought now was a good opportunity to introduce myself and apologise for my original speedless infraction. (Not to worry about looking like Beverly Hillbillies, I was in a linen short set.) She pulled in her driveway, opened the garage door but did not pull in, nor did she get out. I exited by van but was leary about walking up on her. After all, I didn't want to scare the bejesus out of her.

After a few minutes wait, I was finally able to catch her eye. She gave me a big smile and got out of her car. She greeted me with a very thick Scandinavian accent, thus the nickname "Inga Schvinga" came to life. "Oh, I'm so glad you made it.", she stated. I shook my head a bit and indicted I was her new neighbor and introduced myself. She requested that I follow her to the back yard, when I asked why, she said that is where the area was that needed work. When I questioned what "work" was needed, she laughed and said the "the gardening of course". And that point I stopped and said there was miss in communications. I reiterated that I was her NEW Neighbor...... And wanted to introduce myself and apologise for going so slowly through the neighborhood two days before.

At this point she turned her cute, perky head to the side and said, "So you're not the mexican gardener?" "No", I said. Just your new neighbor. She asked what number I lived in. I told her. She said, "Oh, that's McX's place". I indicated that it used to be, but that we purchased it, so now it was ours. She then said, "Oh, so your husband is a doctor". "No, McX was a doctor, my husband isn't". She then questioned how we found about the house if my husband wasn't a doctor. I informed her that our real estate agent found the house for us.

She then shifted gears and said, "I know where you live now. I know, I know..... but you must not. You can't run a business out of your house." I said that was fine, as I didn't have any business to run out of it. And she said, "Well a daycare is considered a business". I agreed that a daycare was a business, but since I didn't have one, it wasn't a point of contention for me. She then told me, "Yes, you do! I've seen ALL those kids in your back yard". Completely stunned, I started laughing and said those aren't DAYCARE KIDS, those are OUR kids! She said they can't be all ours. She said she had seen me in the back with what had to be 5 or 6 kids. I tried to assure her that 4 were ours and 2 were the next door neighbor's (whose shared gate opens up into our back yard). She looks at me in complete disbelief and says, "So you don't have a daycare?" and then without skipping a beat says, "Would you be interested in taking care of my granddaughter? My daughter needs help from time to time and I'm too busy to do it".

Seriously folks!!! This is the conversation that went down. When I quit choking on my tongue and my laughter died away, I thanked her for asking but declined any future babysitting gigs. I told her I had to get home and feed all my boys a snack and then climbed back into the van to hurry home as fast as I could. I felt like I had been in a crazy, neverending nightmare. Much like Alice in Wonderland.

When John got home from work that night, I informed him that it didn't matter how I dressed. The neighbors didn't think I was the Beverly Hillbillies. Instead, I was the mexican gardener who ran an illegal daycare.

Years later after most of my friends had heard the story, I was sharing it at the neighborhood pool one evening. One guy with a very robust laugh couldn't contain himself. It was at that point he said her name was in fact not Inga but rather XX. He got a kick out of the story and I didn't feel bad for sharing it as everything I said was the God's honest truth. It was then a couple of months later that she and I had occasion to be at a ladies neighborhood tea. At one point she came up to me and introduced herself to me and then said that her husband had shared with her my story. She lifted her head high and said it had NEVER happened. I just smiled.

Inga Schvinga and I know the truth of that day and what transpired. Or maybe, the entire conversation was simply lost in translation.

Aixerona - I'm the poster child!

2015-05-08T09:40:00.000-05:00

Wow, that was a longer break than I realized. It really makes me feel loved to receive so many notes TELLING me to get back at it. Thanks y'all!!!

Erma Where Are You?

We all have one kind of skeleton or another in our closet. This one of mine didn't come to life until after I had our first born. Prior to that I didn't even know it existed. While I'm not making light of eating disorders, people have to realize there are many different kinds. And that leads me to say: Hello, my name is Michelle Baker and I suffer from Aixerona. These days the airwaves, social media, television media, print media, schools, and counselors are all talking about body image issues, disorders, and the diseases associated with them. We all know their terms, for the most part. But you NEVER hear about "Aixerona". It might be because I coined the term back in 1989. That would be the time period after I gave birth to our firstborn, but surprisingly the 79lbs that I gained didn't miraculously disappear the way it surprisingly arrived.

I am the opposite of anorexic. When I look in the mirror, I think, wow - looking good! I can see myself from all angles and think - and SEE - I definitely look good. On some occasions I've even seen myself as DAMN GOOD. And that image stays in my mind, until I see of PHOTO of myself. OMG!! What happened? I know when I left the house I was looking FINE.

I'm not sure how or what happens when the camera snaps. What scientific process occurs? How can I instantly be transformed from "Wow" to "WTH"?

How do I deal with my disorder? Well, I've found the only way to combat it is to stay out of photographs. That's why you will almost always see me on the other side of the camera. And IF you do see me in a photo, I try to position myself crunched in the middle or better yet in the back row. (And that's a rather tough feat when you're a healthy 5'3" tall.)

Example: That's me in the far back to the right of my friend the bearded pirate.
(Pre-Blonde)

In the end it doesn't really matter where I show up in a photograph as long as my family and friends want me around and in their photographs. I'm extremely blessed. I'm very happy, healthy, and who knows what the future brings......

There will always be haters. You just have to remember your self worth is only dependent upon your SELF! And I look like a million bucks (in a non economic downturn, strong dollar economy kind of way)!!

Right on Target... Really? Target?

2015-03-31T23:46:00.001-05:00

I was catching up with a wonderful mom of one of the University baseball boys. What the devil, I'm telling a true story and she's precious, so I'll use her name - Shoko. She resides in Tokyo, Japan. Yes, as amazing as it sounds, there is a young man who traveled from Tokyo, Japan to play baseball and attend school at Rockhurst University, smack dab in the middle of the great US of A. I got acquainted with Shoko about this same time last year. Her son is her only child and her pride and joy. He got the baseball bug at a young age and he contaminated his mother with his baseball infection. Shoko loves everything baseball.

She said she was so excited that our second son started the sports media for the university. Instead of only being able to watch game stats on the computer, she has been able to listen to play-by-play and color commentary. And as a bonus, depending on where they are playing, sometimes they have a video feed of the game in realtime too.

Sadly, I was out of town when Shoko arrived to Kansas City. And as Murphy's Law would have it, nothing worked out as she had planned. She learned the night before she was leaving Tokyo that her son (a sophomore) was finally asked by Coach to travel with team on an out of towner. This trip was to Kenosha, WI. She found out it was about an hour plus from Chicago. After unsuccessfully attempting to change her flight to arrive in Chicago instead of KC, she looked into renting a car and driving to Kansas City. When she found out the distance was 8+ hours she decided against that as well. She confided that she was worried that she would take a wrong turn and there was no telling where she might end up.

She is one of the most positive people I've ever had the pleasure to meet. She was sad not to be able to change her plans but was excited that she was soon to depart for her week in KC. She said that she was going to see all the exciting things KC had to offer while her son was gone on the baseball trip.

She had prepaid and planned to stay at a "very nice" hotel for the beginning of her trip and then later in the week she was moving to a very cut rate, clean but no extras hotel. Thinking that as she was arriving right before the weekend, her son could come and stay at the hotel with her and they could enjoy the indoor pool and all the incredible amenities. But baseball changed those plans too. Shoko was determined to make the most of her time alone.

I wish I had video so you could see the excitement on her face when she told me of her weekends adventures. She visited: 1) the P & L District, 2) Aquarium, 3) Union Station, 4) The Kauffman Center, 5) The Nelson-Adkins Museum, 6) The Kansas City Zoo, and 7) the shopping mecca of KC - The Plaza. She said she really didn't feel like shopping while she walked through the Plaza. I would think that living in Tokyo, you would have lots of opportunities to shop Louis Vuitton, Gucci, and their rest of their expensive hoity-toity cousins.

She said that the greatest place she visited, and the one she spent the most time at was - (the anticipation should be building right now) - TARGET! She said, "Oh Michelle, it is amazing. You wouldn't believe all the things they have and the prices are incredible!" She said that the shampoo she spends $19 dollars on in Japan for a tiny bottle they sell at Target for $2.49 for a HUGE bottle. She was in awe that you could buy cans of olive oil that sprayed. She was so enthralled she bought three cans to take back with her. She said she spent hours walking up and down every isle, mesmerized by every product and price.

I couldn't help it, I laughed my behind off right there in front of her. She was so very sincere and serious about how incredible Target was. Of all the incredible sights she had visited, Target was the MOST favorite of her KC destinations.

She said her son took her out for a regular American breakfast. I'm thinking something along the lines of: IHOP, Corner Cafe, or one of the little dives down in the hood. But once again, you could have knocked me over with a feather. She said, "Michelle, he took me for a wonderful meal at Quick Trip". (For readers outside the Midwest area, Quick Trip would be along the lines of 7-Eleven.) She said she had the most wonderful hotdog. She couldn't believe all the vegetables they had available to go on the hotdogs too. She giggled and said, "I have to admit the jalapeno and cheese hotdog was my favorite".

I am now falling out of my stadium seat laughing. I made her promise that next year she'll 1) stay at our house instead of a hotel; 2) let me to take her out for a REAL authentic American breakfast; and 3) allow me to take her to SUPER TARGET. I'm figuring it could be an all day affair. It's a good thing that they have a little "cafe" there, we'll probably be there for a meal too!

Target......... Who would have thought?

I thought I was the giver, not the recipient.

2015-03-30T10:44:00.000-05:00

A few years ago, I loose track of time - it could have been ten years, Donna, Kim, and I went to lunch at one of my favorite places in Kansas City ~ The Webster House. I've been going there for well over 17 years. It has morphed over the years from a mostly antique and home accent mecca that served a fabulous "Ladies Lunch" to The place to go before or after a performance at the Kauffman Center. When we went, it was still the fabulous Ladies Lunch place. (Any southern woman knows exactly what I mean be that definition too.)

We were there to celebrate one of our birthdays. While we were sitting there chatting and laughing, I noticed three little old ladies sitting a couple of tables away. They were almost a duplicate of our table. They were chatting and laughing and having a wonderful time. I couldn't keep my eyes off of them. I had already mentally determined which one was the older version of each of us. I finally had to share with my friends what was going on. Now we were ALL mesmerized by the trio of "old us".

We continued to enjoy our birthday luncheon, but every so often we caught each other sneaking a quick glance at the other table. When our waiter arrived with the bill, I requested the bill for the other "girls" as well. After all they had truly added to our birthday celebration and I alway get a warm feeling whenever I can do a random act of kindness. I requested that he not tell them who had bought their lunch until after we had left. Well, leave it to a man to NOT do as requested. He spilled the beans. On our way out, the "girls" stopped us and thanked us profusely for treating them. They then admitted that throughout their lunch, they were enjoying watching us. We reminded them of themselves years earlier.

When we asked if they were there was a special occasion, they shared that in fact they were celebrating a birthday. The six of us erupted in laughter. We then stood there for about twenty minutes chatting like we had just met up with cousins we hadn't seen in years and years. Not a single one of us worried about what the other diners might think of our raucous discussion (my grandmother would have fainted in embarrassment of our behavior). The leader of their group requested that I give her my name and address, and of course I complied. It was about a week later that I received my first letter. She filled me in with deeper detail of the "girls". The youngest was 79 and the oldest was the one celebrating her birthday at the tender age of 90. She thanked us profusely for our kindness and requested I drop her a note now and then.

All three of them have now gone on to a better place, but I shall keep all their memories with me.

Remember, you never know what side of the observation table you're sitting.

San Diego Anyone?

2015-03-27T15:32:00.001-05:00

No, I didn't fall off the face of the planet. I just landed in San Diego. I was invited to go on a "Girls Trip". Not to be confused with a "Bama Babes" trip. How great was this going to be? Five wonderful days in sunny California. In 51 years, the only times I'd been there before were for brief periods during layovers on my way to the even sunnier Hawaii. This had the earmark of super cool.

The trip participants consisted of me, my friend Ria and her daughter, the beautiful JennaBanenna, and her delightful friend Molly McButter - whose superpower I found is talking - nonstop, from morning throughout the entire day and night - yes, she even talks in her sleep! (The names might have been changed to protect the innocent or they could have just been altered because anyone who knows me knows that when I really like someone I tend to give them altered names.)

The only plans we made before arriving were 1) the hotel - Ria's loving hubby decided the one that we needed to stay. I have to admit the Loews Coronado was an incredible location. Coronado Island is definitely highly recommended - by me, now. 2) I rented us a beautiful brand new Mustang convertible. Now you have to remember that I have a family that consists of myself, my hubby and my fabulous four sons. I really didn't think the whole convertible thing out well. All I was thinking was soon to be teenaged girls would love the car, beautiful weather, and a great view to sightsee. What I wasn't thinking was: wind through soon to be teenaged girls hair, sunburned shoulders, and most of all WHERE ARE WE PUTTING ALL THE FLIPPING LUGGAGE????? (More about that in a bit.) And finally 3) I got online and signed us up for tickets to attend the taping of American's Funniest Home Video's. Granted it was in LA but what is a measly two hour and fifteen minute drive when you are already so close. Besides, it was supposed to be a beautiful drive up the coast and there was so much potential for sightseeing to be done there too.

We arrived safely in San Diego. We all managed to get our suitcases without issue. How I ended up with the most is still beyond me. I usually pride myself on my ability to pack light. (Okay, Colleen, I know I packed a little heavy for France, but my God, it was France!) I think my over indulging had something to do with the fact that when traveling with MY family I'm lucky if I get to pack three different pairs of shoes - tennis shoes, dress shoes, and flip flops. And then I have to justify the reason for bringing so many. So, I figured, girls trip - I'm going to splurge. I brought two and one suitcase consisted of nothing but shoes and makeup. In actuality I only ended up wearing three pairs - tennis shoes, dress shoes, and flip flops. And I don't know why I even bothered to bring a makeup case. I'm really not sure why I even have a makeup case. I used what I normally do: mascara, under eye concealer, and lip gloss. I guess I could have left that suitcase at home. Oh well, lesson learned.

It was on the car rental shuttle bus that I heard the first of many "girl screams". I think I levitated six inches straight out of my seat. But when I glanced fervently towards Ria - she was calmly looking out the window - Another little scream, I was expecting to see great volumes of blood spurting from a huge gash in one of the girls. But there was none. Just the sight of two almost teens with their heads bowed together, sharing something they had seen on Instagram. I have to admit, there might have been a slight spike in my blood pressure. But Ria's calmness was almost zen-like. I'm not sure how she is able to tune it out, but she does. I was able to witness it first hand a couple more times over the five day period. I think my neck tick was a give away, Ria sweetly requested the girls tame the screams because Momma Baker wasn't used to it. (Another reason I love that woman!)

The shuttle arrived safe and relatively sound (all previously mentioned sound bytes considered) at the car rental agency. After filling out and initialing twenty-five additional pieces of paper - I'm really glad I pre-rented and pre-paid for the car before we arrived. When we finally finished, he handed me the keys and bid me a safe and fun adventure. At this point in time the whole luggage issue still hadn't hit me. It wasn't until I pulled the car forward in order to reach the trunk that the naughty words started forming in my head. It was also about that time that the theme song for the Beverly Hillbillies started playing in my head as well. Needless to say there was quite a jumble going on it my head about then. But with jigsaw'esk ninja powers and a couple of well placed suitcases under feet and stuffed between people, we were able to head to the hotel.

I did learn an interesting fact. How badly someone snores is truly subjectively decided by whomever is actually hearing the snoring. Example: my hubby says I sound like a bear, however, my dear friend Ria said it wasn't bad at all. (Now I not going to point fingers, but I am a little dubious in trusting the man who has been known to wake himself up snoring and blames it on me - the person who is sitting up in bed wide awake reading a book.)

To wrap up this long winded, rambling, often off point post, let me say: "It was a fabulous trip and hope to have another in the future."

And I am completely and totally blessed to have my fabulous, wonderful, loving SONS!

Piss Off or Smile

2015-03-05T00:50:00.000-06:00

Do you like to play games? I'm not talking about the ones that we grew up on - Monopoly, Life, Scrabble... I'm talking about games that you make up. Games that you play with yourself. No, I don't mean "play with yourself". I mean play alone, with just yourself.

I try to pick a day during the week to accomplish all my running around errands. Yes, it does mean that I'm out the door as early at 7:30 am some mornings (Yes, I have my business Sam's Wholesale Club card just so I can beat the crazies there!) and don't get home until some time between 3:30 and 4:30. It's an exhausting day, but it accomplishes everything so I can blow off the remainder of the week. You know, since I'm officially a "stay at home mom" I do nothing. Sit around eating Bon Bon's and watching soap operas.

Okay, sorry, I have to segway here. Early marriage with a 23 month and a brand new baby, my husband used to joke and ask me why I was ready to go to bed by 8pm. After all, all I did during the day was play with the boys and eat bon bon's and watch soap operas. I would nod and laugh half heartedly while I repeated the phrase, "Yeah, right" over and over. And I would again stifle the impulse to put a pillow over his snoring head and hold it there while I was up at either the midnight or 2am feedings.

There was one defining moment in our marriage, okay I'm sure there have been several defining moments in our marriage but this is the only one that comes to mind right now. On one exceptionally rough day, I finally had a quiet moment to myself when both boys were asleep. The kitchen was cleaned up from both breakfast and lunch for the boys (I had not had an opportunity to eat yet), laundry done, and most of the toys picked up. It was at that moment I grabbed a ice pop from the freezer, pulled up a stool and placed my swollen ankles up and turned on Oprah. It was at that very second, when the "ahhhhhhh" was coming out of my mouth that ..... My HUSBAND walked in the room. (This was not his normal arrival time, it was only 3 in the afternoon.)

His reaction was priceless! From the way that he hollered, you would have thought he walked in the bedroom and found me in bed with two other men. "Ahhh hahhhh!!!!" He exclaimed. "I was wrong. It isn't bon bon's and soap operas, it's ice cream and Oprah!!" I tried diligently to explain that in no part of any country could you compare an ice cream and a freezer pop. Come on MAN, after all a freezer pop is basically frozen kool-aid. He wouldn't believe me when I said it was the first time I had sat down all day. So for 27 years of marriage, it's known that all I do is watch Oprah and eat ice cream. Yeah, okay.....

Back to my made up games. Here is the one of my favorites. It's called Piss Off or Smile. You keep a running count throughout the entire day of people you either Piss Off or make Smile. Here's how it works. You basically have to make people make eye contact with you. That's right, look them straight in the eye as you approach. Then just after direct eye contact is engaged, you SMILE. I'm not taking about a meager little no teeth showing grin. I mean a show those pearlies, ear to ear smile. Then to seal the deal, you say either "hello" or "how are you today". The reactions are priceless. I'm not going to tell you yet what the reactions are yet. But there is usually one of three reactions.

It's lots of fun. There's no cost involved, it's gluten free, and it won't impede your dieting. So go ahead, give it a try tomorrow then come back here and post what your experience was.

Erma Where Are You????

My Teeth Hurt

2015-03-02T00:21:00.001-06:00

I'm so sick....and all my family is out of town.

Come on folks, I'm allowed a pity-party now and then.

My teeth HURT - Yes, Libby, I've flossed. Yes, Libby. I've brushed my teeth - daily (See below) I'm guessing right about now that those of you who don't know Libby have determined she is an ever vigilant dental hygienist.

My nose is so stuffed, I can't smell how bad I smell (and only realized this when the dogs wouldn't lie down by me). And exactly how can one's nose be stuffed up but still drip at the same time?

My hair hurts

Coughing threw my back out

Did I mention my teeth hurt?

I'm considering cough syrup a "juice" category

I tell time by the medications I have to take

I jump at the offer by a friend to grab dinner for me (and then I request Taco Bell (???))

Walking to the bathroom is a planned event

Really, 50 years, and this is the first time my teeth hurt

A hand-drill to the middle of the forehead might reduce the pressure (still holding out on this one)

Brushing teeth is an event requiring a new way to breath (nose stuffed)

I didn't mind answering the phone for telemarketers - as long as I was in the middle of a coughing fit.

I've morphed into my dad, I check my snot each time I blow my nose (OMG this is gross!)

......and finally..... I consider my gummy vitamin to be dessert!

I shall be calling the doctor again tomorrow morning. It's been a week since our last rendezvous.

In the meantime, from the annals of sympathetic wisdoms bestowed upon me from my dad's first wife:

"Suck It Up Sally"