Its been a good Christmas.

Every Christmas is unique and changes over the years. My family acquired a new dog last July who had a litter of pups on July 21.



Checkers looked at me like she loved me so much. I now know she saw a car full of old folks and we were her ticket to lavish lifestyle. Earlier this evening, I heard a terrible dog attack in the house. I went to check. It was Checkers running the 60 pound German Shepherd mix out of my sister's room. That bed is only for her and my sister. A big improvement over living under a house.

I have two sisters. One that lives with me and one that lives in a neighboring town. An emu was loose at the neighboring horse farm about 7 years ago. The horse farm came over and told my sister who was house sitting as we were on vacation to get our emu. My sister said Oh God, don't let my sister see it. She will want it.

The mystery emu was picked up by another neighboring family from later escapes. To make a long story short, that woman was a more serious animal person than I ever was and she found a home for it within one week of owning it. It was more than she could handle. I don't want an emu. I'm old enough to learn from another's misfortune.

As long as your parents are alive, you see your siblings. This Christmas was no exception. It's good to see everyone. My oldest brother had his two granddaughters in tow. The oldest is 17 and she was the chauffeur. I might be biased but both girls were gorgeous. The youngest is going to be a veterinarian. She inherited the love of animals. Her older sister I hope becomes a teacher like me. She has the disposition.

I bought Christmas dresses for my chihuahua mixes to wear and to take pictures. It was a sloppy wet day. I plan to wait a few days and dress them up for their pictures. I don't think they know its Christmas anyway. LOL

It was a good Christmas for me. Like all Christmas pasts, nothing really went the way I had planned. The little dog knows what we older folks have to offer. I hope all of you have a good day.

Makes you want to hollar sometimes.

I got a bill for a renewal for my National Geographic subscription. I was thinking, I did not get National Geographic. The cost was 59.99 for one year. Yuck, I was canceling that. Then I read the whole thing. It was a magazine subscription service.

A year's subscription to National Geographic is $15. I guess the extra $45 is for their time and effort in making someone think they have subscription and renewal to pay.

Robert Griffin III who is the quarterback for the Washington Redskins is trademarking the phrase, "Unbelievably believable" his name and initials. Trademarking is getting out of hand at times. Travyon Martin who was killed by George Zimmerman. Mom trademarked phrases associated with the public outcry. Everything has a profit potential.

There are copyright trolls that are stiffling the production of electronics and software. Legally they make money off of copyright infringements. This is one that makes you take a step back. If they own the copyright, they have a right to be paid.

Now how did they get that copyright. One reason you don't allow your own writing to go into public domain is that someone else can copyright what you wrote and make you pay to use what you gave to public domain. Makes you want to hollar.

My email was hacked.

The fact that I opened a link sent to me should speak volumes. There is a sucker born everyday and sometimes its me.

Immediately I knew there was a problem. It was a job opportunity to earn $15 every time I posted a link for Google  or some other well known organization. Thinking I was being so sly, I opened another window to Google the company. Meanwhile every person on my contact list had received the same generous offer. Spam for their contacts and the opportunity for their email to be hacked.

Goons have a one up on you every time  They know what you will do. Exploiting your ignorance. It's not just computer viruses. It can be the plumber.

My hot water heater stopped working. I called the plumber. I paid an exorbitant price for a $10 thermostat to be replaced. $179. The guy holds the intake water pipe and looks worried. He runs water in my kitchen sink. He tells me he has rechecked my elements and the top one has blown. That will be $231. I tell him fix it. Then I think, I'll cut my losses and get a new hot water heater.

He scribbles like hell on the receipt. He doesn't reconnect the circuit breaker for the hot water heater. He doesn't want anything to blow up. Well that sounds funny.

I give myself the gift of a day to think. I sweat like a pig and take a cold shower that night. My family is doing without. I call a friend and the man who keeps my well in shape. He came and fixed my well one Sunday night. His mom was in the hospital about an hour away. He left, fixed my well, and went back to the hospital unpaid. He gives me a name.

The name came the next day when I called. He showed me how to check the elements and thermostat. Nothing was wrong with the elements. The thermostat had been set to nuclear. I turned it down as low as I could get it. He didn't want me to pay him. It made him sick that I had been overcharged and possibly ripped off. He showed me the reset button on the thermostat.

My dad told me the year he passed to toughen up. You always have stress. It made me feel sad that he was close to 80 and had to weather storms.

I will say one thing. Just because someone tricked me with my ignorance it doesn't mean they are smarter than me. It means they are missing something that makes you fully human.

I used to not believe in God. One day I realized I didn't believe in people. God was always there for me. People are always there for me too. I believe in people too.

Older and wiser. I wish those first graders in Connecticut were too. God Bless.

Some 'plaining due.

The earliest television show I remember watching on a regular basis was I Love Lucy. Ricky Ricardo would want Lucy to do some 'plaining after one of her madcap hi-jink.

Personally, I get a wee tired of the explaining. Today I went to request to pick up my mammogram to take to the doctor's office. I had been told that I could pick them up where the mammogram was done versus the hospital. Either location is a trip so I really did not care.

I make the request on Tuesday to pick them up Thursday morning. The young lady behind the counter tells me it takes 24 hours, I need to pick them up Thursday afternoon. I say, 24 hours, today is Tuesday. She continues to explain you need to come Thursday afternoon. I say, my appointment is Thursday afternoon. She says you need to come Thursday afternoon. I say, 24 hours? She says 24 hours and then we have to wait for the mail.

As she rattles off about I need to come Thursday afternoon, it occurs to me what she means. 24 hours for the mammogram films. Another 24 hours for delivery. She needed to say 48 hour turnaround. The hospital is maybe half a mile away. I tell her I can pick them up there.

When you are old, you need lots of explaining. Well old to the receptionist.

Now, I have been cleaning house, I need a coat of paint (make-up), I resist the urge to tempt fate and go home and make the request early Wednesday morning. Squaring my shoulders, I go straight to radiology and make my request. As I walk in, I think maybe I should have taken my purse with my ID.

The receptionist is so cute and young. "Do I have a picture ID?"

That caption above your head where you are thinking real loud goes off. "Hell no, what can I do with some old broad's mammogram? You're going to make me walk back to my car, looking like this. I know, I know, only the pink lady in front noticed how sloppy I was. All you kids think this is how folks like me always ...." She smiles at me and tells me to bring my picture ID to pick the films up Thursday morning. "look as good as I feel right now."

I make eye contact with the pink lady and wave as I leave.

Now this is not one incident there is lots of 'plaining going on.

One supermarket chain has a mystery coupon for a penny item on senior citizen Wednesday. My mom looks forward to this event. We are going to buy 2 for 1 grocery items whether we need it or not. Sometimes mom gets so worked up, we have to leave before the mail comes and I get my mystery coupon from the local paper. You know the motor chairs batteries get worn down my mother reminds me.

I've discussed this with the manager. He told me he can't justify getting more chairs for one day of high demand. He's rather good looking so the explaining is more pleasant.

I've timed my mother. It can take up to two hours studying the aisles of this magnificent store. I have to admit, the workers are very friendly. Could it be the $2000 the pharmacy gets from the insurance company for medicines my mom and brother take each month. All for getting 5 lbs of sugar for one cent. We don't use sugar. We're diabetics. But the Methodist food bank does.

Well the mystery item can be quite a mystery. You sort of have to look for it. Since I have a book to read at all times, I go to customer service and find out what the item is. The closer they are to my age, the more likely they make eye contact and say what the item is as they wait on the customer ahead of me.

About three weeks ago, it was a new girl. I say, What's the mystery coupon?
She tells me what the mystery coupon is. I say, no, the item. She then explains to me that I asked for what the mystery coupon was. Granted she was right. I say, what is the mystery coupon item? It's a good thing we played Simon Sez as a kid.

Like I say, we old broads need lots of explaining.

Now you're probably wondering what the picture has to do with this article.

Absolutely nothing. I jes felt like doing some 'plaining. Have a Great Day!

My what big feet you have.

My mom could hardly hide her aggravation with a woman commenting on my big feet in a shoe store. I was about 13.

I learned in high school when people asked me how tall I was to say 6 foot. It took the punch out what happened when I gave my actual height 5'9". Some were conveniently confused when they could not say I seemed taller.

Add that to short and often pudgy girls admiring how small they were compared to me. The most obnoxious one was fat and ugly. I could be equally obnoxious in my own way but I was already at a point where I felt compassion for someone else. Particularly because I truly believed I was gorgeous at the time.

When I taught school I really did not see that many unattractive children. Youth has a beauty of its own. One young man in a ROTC uniform seemed fairly homely until I said something that made him laugh. Its like a curtain pulled, and he was very attractive.

At the nail salon, I couldn't understand the Vietnamese. I could understand the motions. They were comparing their little feet to mine.

I have a developmentally delayed brother who I bring on to the nail salon. He likes having his feet done. The nail technician points out my feet are bigger than his. Now exactly what do you do with this sort of information. Put it on your curriculum vitae?

I had a mammogram two weeks ago. You basically go into a changing room and put on a hospital gown that ties. I was fairly covered. I thought about thanking them for giving me a larger gown.

During the mammogram, I guess the technician realized I had large boobs. She asks me if I would like another gown to wear in the front when I leave. I said, no. I thought, Did you see my boobs hanging out when I came in? I think not!

As my mother slowly and silently shrinks, I can know the advantage of height. I can also think of much worse things in life, one of them shallowness. I feel blessed with what I do have. Sometimes I see people disfigured, unhealthy, homeless. What happened in Connecticut is quite hard to bear. I can't imagine the pain of the parents of those innocent children. My mother keeps changing the channel to get away from it. I've seen her crying too many times over the tragedy.

My mom worked in a cotton mill in Macon GA in the late 40s and early 50s. The office staff looked down on the millworkers who happened to get larger paychecks than the office workers. She and her aunts who were 5 to 10 years older to her knew the mill was their pot of gold. Not that the work was easy, My Aunt Cleo would slip off from work and go to the movies occasionally. It was hot, arduous work.

One of the straw bosses would walk up to my Aunts and ask them how the weather was up there.

Aunt Cleo had bright orange red hair. One day he made the mistake of telling her how big her feet were.

In front of the same people he hoped to humiliate her she said,
"Mansions are built on Large Foundations. Little Shithouses are built on small ones."

Ce la vie.

Some of my dogs might be nerds.

I've read a lot of good blogs lately. Amazing some of the challenges other people have faced in their lives. One blogger, Abiding, really has had to meet some astounding challenges. What makes a good blog is strong emotion.

Many bloggers write as if you can hear them speaking and you can imagine what their voice sounds like. I feel envy and relief at the same time. Envious of the ability to put so much life in what they say. Relief in not having to endure so many setbacks.

My biggest setback is not being able to go to work. I take care of my mom and two handicapped siblings. Not exactly the life I wanted to lead. I somehow doubt I was going to be able to spend my retirement on a cruise ship. I have heard cruise ships are a great alternative to assisted living.

I worked on an independent film. The filmmaker, his wife and son were a young family with an errant dog. I had gone to his house to retrieve my laptop. This cute little dog sat on the front porch and gave me a look like she loved me immensely. Well one thing led to another. I had a pregnant dog in my car with my family. Everyone in the car looked at me like I was hopeless.

That dog is Checkers. My sister adores her. The whole family loves the puppies and now I have more dogs and dog issues which keeps me even busier. Tonight, I went on a dog food run. I have spoiled the babies with canned dog food. I take a large can and divide it equally nine ways. The 50 pound dogs are just as content with their share as the 5 pounders.

I didn't tell you that Checkers is half Jack Russell/half Chihuahua. Single pawed, she is responsible for the new leash law in Arabi, GA.

One of her puppies has a beagle look. One looks to be a full blood chihuahua with ears cocked in different directions. Another one looks like her mother. The last one who is boss looks like Yoda from StarWars.

When I came out with the food, a woman was admiring my puppies. The pit bull who the horse farm next door is paranoid will hurt one of their horses, a poodle mix who the puppies are abusing, and my elderly purebred poodle. I looked at all three. The nine pound poodle has to have the back seat by himself. Sharing is not part of his vocabulary. The bulldog and poodle mix were in the passenger seat waiting.

All three have social issues. This is when I realized they weren't just any kind of dog. They were nerds.

It Wasn't All Dancing by Mary Ward Brown

Tina Whittle of the crime fiction drama novels "Darker Than Any Shadow" and "The Dangerous Edge of Things" by Poisoned Pen Press has issued a challenge and little fun in the blogging community. Write a blog about a favorite book.

Quite a challenge, how do you choose a favorite book when you are a big reader. I personally enjoy non-fiction as well as fiction. Of fiction, I have a fondness for the novella and short story. Partly because I have a hard time laying a book down once I start. When you think of Helen Hooven Santmyer's 1000 page plus novel, "And Ladies of the Club", you are talking about some late night hours and neglected housework. However, her book was well worth it.

So, drum roll please, the book I've chosen is "It Wasn't All Dancing" by Mary Ward Brown of Alabama. It is one of the few books I reread on occasion  Like most readers, I have stacks of books I plan to get to. What makes Mary Ward Brown's stories significant is they take everyday people and share a poignant aspect of their lives.

The title story is "It Wasn't All Dancing" tells of the dying days of a former socialite, debutante and her hired caregiver. Not all heroes do heroic things. Not all heroes get recognized. We are all blind to what we don't want to see at times. Seeing a point of view not expected is riveting.

Each story in the book seem like a photograph. It takes a quick glimpse into the characters thoughts and life. It is hard to imagine ordinary people having such interesting moments or life defining events but they do. Mary Ward Brown's stories are an honest look at the South and her people as they transition from Jim Crow and segregation into the New South. I recognize these folks.

All of these people who make up the day to day lives of people in the black belt of the South have a story deeper than than the dirt roads winding through the countryside. "The House That Asa Built" was comical as well as real in detailing the frustrations of a young wife with a husband who buys a television instead of a washing machine in the late 1950's.

On a deeper level, you will love the prose. Mary Ward Brown is truly a Southern writer and she serves up the fresh trajectory of language that you expect. In "The House That Asa Built" the comparison of two tow headed children's freshly washed hair blowing in the wind like dandelion puffs stands in my mind.

Mary Ward Brown has also written a book of short stories titled "Tongue of Flames". You will enjoy everyone. I did. You will appreciate all the people that Mary Ward Brown brought to life.