Monday, September 28, 2015

A Kiss in a Cup

Do you ever really listen to the words of songs?
I don't. I'm kinda a beat person and only feel
beats for dancing. When I do my closet-screeching,
the dog howls. I guess it hurts her ears,
poor thing.

One of my morning favorites is "Drink to me
Only With Thine Eyes," an old English troubadorian
ballad from "Song to Celia." I wonder why troubadours
gave up the Trubing business. They could add a
nice contrast to some of today's raucous music.
Can you imagine Troubadours in Montana?

1. Drink to me only with thine eyes and I will pledge
with mine. 
   The burned out bull-rider at the end of the bar,
watches the glassy-eye, hotsy-totsy rodeo queen
hoist her mug of Buds. "She's the one," he thinks.

2. Or leave a kiss within the cup and I'll not ask for
    Did she just lick the mug or was that a kiss, as
she glanced in his direction and no one drinks wine
in a cowboy bar. 

3. The thirst that from the soul doth rise, doth ask
a drink divine.
    "She's so beautiful, " thinks the bull rider, "if I
buy her a beer, I wonder if she'll take a ride in my pickup.

4. But might I of Joves nector sup,  I would not 
change for thine.
    "Oh what the hell, it's late so I'll just take mah
roady, get my Border Collie and head back to the

And life goes on in Montana.


Tuesday, September 22, 2015


Old age is the time for reflection or so we're lead to
believe.  Certain truths smack us right in the face,
usually kicked off by thoughtless remarks of our

My first truth is that our kids don't have a clue as
to who we really are or that we had a vibrant life
before they took that first gulp of oxygen. Often
 kid's remarks stop us dead in our tracks and we
think, "Why try to explain?  They won't get it."

For instance, child #3 (with all her fancy education) 
said to me, "You never went to college but you
don't talk like a hill-billy."  I opened my mouth
but was too stunned to reply so I let it go.

Were my kids really THAT self centered and
preoccupied NOT to notice that I took college
courses every chance I could get, for ten years?
They probably never did notice because my classes
were evenings and day time while they were in school.

I never intended to get a was knowledge
I was seeking. I doubt if young people today would
understand that. When I was advised to choose a
major, it always changed. English, psychology, horticulture...
but no hill-billy talk.

The whole economy was different and wives were not
expected to work. In fact, I never wanted to work outside
 the home, I just wanted to be aware of what was going
on out there.  I loved my life as wife and mother although
now I realize I must have looked to my kids, like the
boring, shades of gray, home-maker.  We were all June
Cleaver's back then.

Should I have tried to explain to my daughter? Would
she understand?  I don't know. What do you think?

Thursday, September 10, 2015


Dear Gentle People
How'sago'n. That is Montana lingo and
I guess it's one of those things that you
have to be here to understand. 

Then there is "ninny." That is a word from my childhood.
I still say, "Don't be a ninny." Most people don't know what
I mean so I wonder if the term is still used. It means a
"foolish person." Know any "ninnies?"

All this politically correct stuff has me completely baffled.
You go and use a certain word for 85 years and then have
someone tell you that you have to replace it with another
word OR you are a NINNY.

Take the word "retarded." That was the legal term for a
person with a low IQ .....way back when I was a psychiatric
nurse. I guess one never uses that word anymore or it's
Ninny Time again.

There is one word that has changed meaning completely
and for that, I could cry. Most of my fond memories of
nursery rhymes included a cat...... an adorable pussy cat.
Now the meaning of pussy is mostly a slang term for a
 part of the female anatomy, a word that brings on
snickers and gaffs. No matter, I still call my cat Puss
or Pussy. So there.

Thank you Donald Trump, for bringing political
correctness to the fore. You are making the hard-core
political-correctees look like a bunch of NINNIES.

Friday, August 21, 2015

Maybe It's Because

Today I am a copy cat. I heard Beate's
song and was immediately transported
back to 1949, when my husband and I
discovered our song, 
              Maybe It's Because
      I'll wager most of Beate's readers were transported
      back in remembrance of "their song." Great
      job, Beate.

When Louis Armstrong came to town,
it was as a dance band, not as a single
performer. What a guy he was as he'd
even visit our table inbetween sets. 
      It was easy to fall in love to his music but I knew
         I would marry Daryl the first moment I saw him.
         His father was a patient at the hospital where I
         was training and he came to visit his father. On
         that first meeting, he asked me to go dancing.
         I remember going back to the dorm, telling my
         room-mates that I had just met the man I was
         going to marry. They said I was crazy. Ha But
         we were married 3 months later, after graduation.

The rest really is history. 


Sunday, August 9, 2015


Way to Go Fella's
Traveling across the country in a restored 1908 Franklin, 3 elderly gents were
re-stocking their vintage car with snacks for the road. Everything about this
car looked brand-spank'n new, including the leather trunk that sat on the
luggage rack.
The Franklin auto was manufactured from 1902 until 1934. It competed with
the luxury big boys but like many of the more expensive cars, folded under the
rigors of the depression.  I had never heard of that make of car, have you?

As the gentlemen closed the doors on this fine old car, one shouted back
to me,"Hope we don't hold you up on the highway."

Nope, it was my pleasure to wave as I passed them. LOL
Yesterday I wrote a post about a depressing subject but today, I don't know why I wrote it. I can get sad but I'm 
never depressed so it's gone, deleted, kaput.(In case you caught a glimpse)

Thursday, July 30, 2015

Dupery Reigns Supreme

So you think government officials are like Jimmy 
Stewart in "Mr Smith Goes to Washington," pure 
of heart and fighting tooth and nail in Washington 
for bills that will benefit the people. Yeah, well....
sorry your lobectomy went haywire. 

I bet you think this post is political.  No, not
really. Maybe just some leanings in that direction.

I remember life in the 1950's....... I was at a 
cocktail party wearing a new black cocktail dress,
similar to the ones Audrey Hepburn usually wore.
Of course everyone had a fancy-named drink in
one hand and a cigarette in the other.  Cigarettes 
and booze in a smokey room. The talk was, "Buy
chemicals and plastics." Yup Froggy, that was
the beginning of poisoning the planet and I 
stood there like an idiot, only caring if I was
making an impression on the sad joker in
a pin-stripe suit. 

Up to that time, lawns were almost maintenance
free because white clover lawns were the choice
of the day.  Clover lawns were beautiful AND
(get this) drought resistant, fixed nitrogen from
the air, needed no fertilizer and tolerated 
compacted soil. 

Can you imagine NOT spending a red cent for
up-keep on your lawn? How much do you spend
now, with mowing, aerating, fertilizing, watering, 
power-raking, and often re-seeding in the spring?

So after the war, big campaigns for beautiful
grass filled the hearts and minds of the new
suburbanites. Buy "Round-up," kill the clover, kill
the bees and we all know what happens after we
kill all the bees. Let your kiddies and pets romp
in that brilliant green chemical grass. Oh, so 
Sonny has allergies, too bad, wonder how he got 

I do small patches at a time. I lay down card-
board and cover it with black dirt. I keep it moist
and during the winter, it's all covered with snow. 
Then I mix clover seed with more black dirt
and add a netting if it's scorching hot come
summer. My yard is terribly large for me to do it
all alone but I'm gaining on it. Today I unloaded
15 bags of dirt by myself. Yeah for my Bliss Work.

What's my point in all of this?  I don't really know. 
Maybe I'd like to influence just one person to 
think of what we're doing. Are we going to end
up as we did in "Planet of the Apes" with the statue
of liberty mostly stuck in the sand?????

Who knows and only time will tell.

Monday, July 20, 2015

Always Carry a Big Stick

I got up this morning at the tip of dawn with an agenda on
my mind. Another wasp  nest in the greenhouse had to be
destroyed. I hate that. I'm really scared of those buzzy critters.

I tossed on a winter parka over my PJ's, tied the hood tight
around my face, zipped up and approached the greenhouse
with a big stick. DANG, the nest faced away from
the door, meaning I had to cross over the nest to get back to
the door once I poked down the nest.

My urge was to return to the house, mission UN-accompolished.
But what to do????? I can't use a poison in the greenhouse.
What if I tripped and fell during my escape? What if the sky is
falling on Henny Penny? Oh just do it, big CHICKEN.

POKE POKE. It was stuck tighter than I thought it would be.
I was using a walking stick. Who said, "Always carry a
big stick?" Was it Teddy Roosevelt? Who cares at this point.
I had to jump over that fallen nest as the wasps were beginning
to wake up and come zooming out. could all
those wasps fit in that little nest? They were zooming all
over the greenhouse and I never realized how fast they
could fly. They were not happy with me, yet they were the
usurpers. Ain't fair.

Back in the house and nary a bite or a trip or a fall. Time
for my morning curds and whey. (I really do eat curds and gives me wasp courage and makes me "Oh sooo
ADIOS for now