Howdy bloggy friends and Happy Halloween. Today's the day for spooks, witches, gobblins, bats, ghosts, trick or treating and BLACK MAGIC.
Speaking of Black Magic, below is a clip of Marilyn Monroe singing same from movie BUS STOP. Remember the scene in the honky tonk where Marilyn is a floozy singer but she calls herself a "Chan too ze." This is before everybody gets on the bus that gets stranded in a blizzard.
Do you know what this is? I didn't either. It's an icon light that came on in the dashboard of my car. Yikes, I've never seen this before. I'm driving to the store and suddenly I become very nervous. I don't speak icon. What is it trying to tell me? Leaking oil? There's a bomb under the hood? As soon as I get to the parking lot, I dig out the car manual. Oh, I hate these things. I find that little "Power to the People" sign. It means low tire pressure. I just got new tires a few days ago and they look OK to me. Dang, this means a wasted trip back to the tire store.
People love their autos. They clean, fluff and buff them. I never see a dirty car on the street. That tells me something. A car wash is a good business to own. So it's back to the tire store for some answers.
Answers I got. I usually get more information than I really want to know. The tire mechanic showed me a small bulb-like thing that was attached to the air tube (the thingy you put the air in) that was inside the tire. The bulb thing is sensitive, he explained, (big deal, so am I) and will set off the icon even with a small fluctuation in pressure. The way to reset it so the icon light will go off is to drive over 35 mph for at least 10 minutes. Fooey. That would be a highway drive and I live a few blocks from the tire store. So as this story ends, I'm still driving around with the icon light annoying me.
But all kidding aside, if I won the lottery, I'd have a full time chauffeur. Drive me here, drive me there. Ahhhh what luxury that would be. What would you do if you won big lottery millions?
They used to use urine to tan animal skins, so families Used to all pee in a pot & then once a day it was taken & Sold to the tannery.......if you had to do this to survive You were "Piss Poor"
But worse than that were the really poor folk who couldn't Even afford to buy a pot......they "didn't have a pot to Piss in" & were the lowest of the low
The next time you are washing your hands and complain Because the water temperature isn't just how you like it, Think about how things used to be. Here are some facts about The 1500s:
Most people got married in June because they took their Yearly bath in May, and they still smelled pretty good by June. However, since they were starting to smell . ..... . Brides carried a bouquet of flowers to hide the body odor. Hence the custom today of carrying a bouquet when getting Married.
Baths consisted of a big tub filled with hot water. The man Of the house had the privilege of the nice clean water, then All the other sons and men, then the women and finally the Children. Last of all the babies. By then the water was so Dirty you could actually lose someone in it.. Hence the Saying, "Don't throw the baby out with the Bath water!"
Houses had thatched roofs-thick straw-piled high, with no Wood underneath. It was the only place for animals to get Warm, so all the cats and other small animals (mice, bugs) Lived in the roof. When it rained it became slippery and Sometimes the animals would slip and fall off the roof... Hence the saying "It's raining cats and dogs."
There was nothing to stop things from falling into the House. This posed a real problem in the bedroom where bugs And other droppings could mess up your nice clean bed. Hence, A bed with big posts and a sheet hung over the top Afforded some protection. That's how canopy beds came into Existence.
The floor was dirt. Only the wealthy had something other Than dirt. Hence the saying, "Dirt poor." The wealthy had Slate floors that would get slippery in the winter when wet, So they spread thresh (straw) on floor to help keep their Footing. As the winter wore on, they added more thresh until, When you opened the door, it would all start slipping Outside. A piece of wood was placed in the entrance-way. Hence: a thresh hold.
In those old days, they cooked in the kitchen with a big Kettle that always hung over the fire.. Every day they lit The fire and added things to the pot. They ate mostly Vegetables and did not get much meat. They would eat the Stew for dinner, leaving leftovers in the pot to get cold Overnight and then start over the next day. Sometimes stew Had food in it that had been there for quite a while. Hence The rhyme: Peas porridge hot, peas porridge cold, peas Porridge in the pot nine days old. Sometimes they could Obtain pork, which made them feel quite special. When Visitors came over, they would hang up their bacon to show Off. It was a sign of wealth that a man could, "bring home The bacon." They would cut off a little to share with guests And would all sit around and chew the fat.
Bread was divided according to status. Workers got the burnt Bottom of the loaf, the family got the middle, and guests Got the top, or the upper crust.
Lead cups were used to drink ale or whiskey. The combination Would sometimes knock the imbibers out for a couple of days. Someone walking along the road would take them for dead and Prepare them for burial. They were laid out on the kitchen Table for a couple of days and the family would gather Around and eat and drink and wait and see if they would wake up. Hence the custom of holding a wake.
England is old and small and the local folks started running out of places to bury people. So they would dig up coffins and would take the bones to a bone-house, and reuse the grave. When reopening these coffins, 1 out of 25 coffins were found to have scratch marks on the inside and they realized they had been burying people alive. So they would tie a string on the wrist of the corpse, lead it through the coffin and up through the ground and tie it to a bell. Someone would have to sit out in the graveyard all night (the graveyard shift.) to listen for the bell; thus, someone could be, saved by the bell or was considered a dead ringer.
Sunday at the park. Cody's plumb tuckered out after catching the Frisbee twenty times. This particular park doesn't allow dogs off leash, but every dog is. Therefore, owners are ever vigilant, keeping an eye out for the Pet Fuzz. I had just put Cody in the car and the little pet-mobile with the incarceration crates on the sides, drove into the park. Suddenly every dog was leashed and Cody looking out the back car window. Whewww, out-smarted the Fuzz again!!!
I wandered over to the climbing rock. These rocks are plentiful in the parks because rock climbing is a favorite sport with the young people. They practice on these big simulated chunks of cement for the real thing.
Bozeman is a college town and a lot of the kids take advantage of what the seasonal mountains have to offer. Big ski town in the winter, biking, rock climbing, running, and hiking in the summer. They use these climbing rocks to develop strength and endurance.
I've always said the Bozeman kids have a special athletic look about them. It's kind of a tanned, rugged look where energy reigns supreme.
They wear special shoes that grip the rock. They also carry a little bag from their waist of what? I should have asked. Some kind of powder to put on their fingers. I'd need to put "super-glue" in my little climbing pouch. Only way I'd feel safe, hanging there, super-glued to the rock!!!!
And then we have the fearless very young climber. Barefoot, no pouch and away he goes. This little tow-head was up and down that rock like a fly. They start em young in Montana.
Fuzz gone. Time to get back to Cody and give her a few more Frisbee tosses now that they won't be back for several hours. Off with the leashes. Are we being illegal? We all pick up poop after our dogs and I've never seen a dog there that wasn't voice control trained and they all have a license. Oh well, yes, it is illegal but the park's so huge and a cow dog just can't get enough exercise on a leash. Excuses, excuses.
For not being a regular TV watcher, I can get hooked on real rescue things. Anyone else stay up all night watching the rescue of the Chile miners? Remember the little girl who fell in the well? (years ago) I didn't sleep for days on that one.
Report says there is one miner who has both a wife and a mistress, which is not at all uncommon for that part of the world. Reporters were wondering which one, wife or mistress, would be there to greet him as he emerged from the mine. They had asked the wife and she said, "She (mistress) can be there!" Oops. A psychologist wondered what will happen if the mistress is waiting and the miner comes out and says he's had an epiphany and will never cheat on his wife again. Wife may say, "Too late." He is still underground at this point of writing. Could be better for him if he stayed there!!!!!!!!
I have a Chile story. Kind of a romantic story. Seems like I've written about this subject lately but blame it on the stars. Or blame it on my time of birth. I have Scorpio rising. That rules your whole being, while dominating the entire personality. A woman with strong Scorpio is usually a "man magnet." (Carol, I know you are Scorpio Sun!) No way does it mean the Scorpio is a loose woman! Contraire, Mon Cherie! Once the Scorpio finds her man, she's truer than the true! It's just that she may have "more" to choose from.
I was divorced from the full blown Narcissist, dancing a lot of Flamenco with a troupe and working on a degree at the U of MN. A handsome hunk from Chile, Abellardo, was teaching at the U and closely followed our group. Did I say handsome? OMG he was beyond that. Have you ever met a man so devastatingly erotically sexy handsome that your breath stopped at your belly button and you couldn't breath? Abellardo. Every woman was after him but for some strange reason he wanted me. Blame it on Scorpio. I could gaze at him forever, but beyond that, I wasn't particularly attracted to him, but what the heck, I'd have a go a it, especially since every woman wanted him!!!!
WOW. We had one fine whirlwind year!!!!! It was a busy year for me and I'm happy to add it in my memory box. I kinda wore him like a little trophy and was the envy of women. South American men are sooooo attentive. He treated me like a precious, delicate flower. He wouldn't even allow me to put on my own boots (winter in Minnesota) but I have to admit that some of his solicitous hovering, I found slightly American smothering.
Then one day he announced he had to return to Chile to see his family but he'd return in two weeks. Nothing unusual about that so I took him to the airport, said good-by and watched his plane fade into a teeny speck. He called often and sent several tourist post cards.
Shortly after two weeks, he called and said he was back. Strange, he hadn't asked me to pick him up. Said he wanted to see me right away. I agreed but continued to ask him about his trip.
"What did you do in Chile?"
"Oh, I got married."
"What????" I couldn't believe my ears. "Did you say married?"
"That won't change anything for us. My father arranged it. I had to get married for my family."
OMG!!!!! A small cultural clash!
"But I don't love her. I love you."
"You will learn to love her. Good-by."
Maybe he did, maybe he didn't. He stopped hanging with the Flamenco group and later, I heard he had returned to Chile. I wasn't heart broken but I'll tell you a secret. Gather all the good experiences available to your life because later on, in your twilight years, they make mighty good memory candy. Put on "The Girl from Ipanema" and bask in reverie.
I've known some "gear head" women who love to change their own oil. Yuck. I just drive a car. I don't ever want to know what's under the hood.
It's oil change time by the little sticker on the wind shield. That nasty time-waster job of leaving the car in line at the Quick Lube, sitting on dirty vinyl and chrome chairs in a waiting room that smells of motor oil and reading greasy "Mechanics Magazines."
I threw on a pair of jeans, a sweater and no make-up. I'd match the dreariness of the job. I just wanted to get it over with.
Good. Only one car ahead of me. I went inside and settled into the lumpy archaic chair with my kindle that I remembered to grab. Soon, I was absorbed in "High Heat" and oblivious of the surroundings.
I heard a man's voice from a couple of chairs down, ask, "Aren't you Manzanita?"
Oh crap, just my luck to run into someone I know when I leave the house without make-up. An 80 year old without a hint of make-up is not something you want to see outside of a nursing home. I looked up from my kindle into the handsome face of Leon, one of the best ballroom dancers in the area. Double Crap. No wonder he had to ask if it was me. Ballroom dancing calls for lots of make-up and a filmy swishy dress. That was how he'd always seen me.
We chatted and I got caught up on the ballroom news. I had dropped out of social dancing due to lack of a partner. Leon is not only a handsome older man, but a gentleman of the old school. We always danced when Sharon, his dance partner was out of town.
I know you're reading faster and with anticipation. Is this going to be the beginning of a twilight, passionate love affair for Manzi? Well, is it? Hate to disappoint you but no zinging Cupid's arrows.
Oh, but he did say, "Sharon's leaving for Arizona for the winter. How about being my dance partner?"