I Think It's Tiffany Taylor's Fault

 I’ve been thinking about adding some highlights to my graying hair OR go another shade lighter.  I can’t decide ‘They say as you get older a shade or two lighter is more flattering.  ‘They’ say you can blend the gray or make it not quite as noticeable with highlights.  I’m not quite sure who ‘They” are, but I’ll try anything at least twice.  

Thus my dilemma.   Decisions seem to be a bit harder to make the older I get… at least about important things like these.  It seems as if my brain has down shifted and my clutch is going out.  I’m not quite as witty  as I once was; or at least as quick with my important contributions to the world.  I wonder if this brain fog is a precursor to dementia?  I don’t know, but it sure sounds like a good excuse to be eccentric and say whatever I want without fear of appraisal or having to make apologies as I get older.  After all… “granny is getting dementia” (the excuse of), sounds like the way to go.  

At any rate thinking on my feet is getting a bit harder and important decisions like hair color are getting more and more difficult to make.  I’m the one in the aisle at WalMart who everyone else has to dodge around with their grocery carts because I stand there and compare, read boxes, and try to decide exactly what color I would like, what would look the best (at least till it’s time to color again), and how it would actually look when I pull that towel off my head and start trying to style it with my trusty brush collection.  It can take more than 45 minutes to make a decision.  Maybe 30 if I preplan and at least have a vague idea of what I want to do.

I wish there was a way to try hair color on before I actually make a change of any sort.   A test drive would be great.  I think the same thing of hair cuts.  My hair stylist always says just before I leave her shop after a cut “If you have any problems with it come back and I’ll fix it”.  I always have wondered how she would cut my hair back long if I decided I didn’t like it.  

Today I will probably spend a good bit of time on Google trying to decide what ‘They” suggest for my situation.  I hope ‘They’ know what ‘They’ are talking about since tomorrow is grocery day and I will be standing in the hair color aisle a minimum of 30 minutes.  It would sure beat 45 minutes, especially with a grouchy husband wanting to hurry me up, (he hates shopping).   Once again I will ask his opinion (like it matters),  and as usual he will say “I don’t care… you have to wear it not me.”  Thanks dear for your helpfulness.

If I have just a slight idea of what I want and do most of my reading today I think 30 minutes of confusion is streaming lining the process of decision making once I actually get to the store and become overwhelmed once again.   He would be happy he didn’t have to stand around in WalMart a minute longer and I will reach a faster questionable decision.

Once I get home I’m sure the usual routine will take place.   The new hair color will sit in it’s box for a week or so while I get up the courage to actually color my hair again.  I will have to look at it every single time I use the bathroom or brush my teeth.  After moving it out of the way for a couple of weeks I will be annoyed enough by it staring at me and being in the way that I will actually succumb to the little bottle and tube inside the box and play bathroom chemist once again with fingers crossed and a prayer on my lips.

On Sunday (The only time I emerge from my lair, except for the grocery store) everyone will say… “Yep, she’s at it again” and whisper to each other all sorts of things if I have made a bad decision.  If I do okay then at least one person might notice… or not.  I’m sure my father will notice and say “You should leave your hair dark like it’s supposed to be”.  Of course he only remembers the dark hair when it was in pigtails and I still played with dolls and ate mud pies.  I think he is in denial of both our ages.

That makes me think back to my dolls… I had a “Tiffany Taylor” doll and one side of her hair was blonde and the other a dark brown and all I had to do was turn her hair from one side of her head around to the other.  I wonder if she was the one who started all my indecisiveness since it was so easy to change her hair.  I also wonder if she was the one who inspired my generation to highlight their hair?  I will probably never know for sure, but I do have a sneaking suspicion that this is all her fault.

Yep… the next 24 hours of my life are planned out for me.  I’ll be busy Googling and standing in the hair color aisle with glazed over eyes once again.  At least everyone will know where to find me.

Does the Drive-Thru Take Food Stamps???

This is something the leaves me perplexed.  I stand in line at the grocery store behind someone who has a buggy loaded, and I do mean loaded with food.  Not the kind you can cook from scratch, homemade meals.  No, there are no “regular groceries” here.  There is no such thing as eggs, a nice roast for Sunday dinner or a few chicken legs.  Not even a bag of onions or potatoes.

This person and millions across the country unload their groceries on the belt week after week never buying so much as a can of green beans or a banana.   There are no peas or carrots, rice or beans.  Instead you will find soda, chips and cheese curls,  Oreo’s and Nutter Butter cookies,  M&M’s and Twizzlers, Pizza Rolls,  Crunch Berries, Little Debbie cakes, pot pies … and let’s not forget the Moonpie’s and RC Cola. (Uh… this sounds like part of my grocery list!)

This person ahead of me continues to unload their basket as I look at my paltry fare.  A jug of milk, a bag of rice, a couple pounds of ground beef, some potatoes, frozen veggies, a jar of peanut butter, some eggs, bread, and a bunch of bananas… it’s much too close to payday to be able to indulge in the “goodies” and convience foods.   I look back up and the person in front of me has finished unloading their basket and reaches into the cooler for a Sun Drop and then grabs a Snickers bar while waiting for the cashier to finish ringing up the order.  The bag boy is hard at work and runs to grab another buggy to get all of the grocery bags packed in so they can be taken to the parking lot to this person’s car.

I’m thinking, a candy bar would be nice, but it’s a luxury at this point in the payday cycle (really a it’s luxury anytime) and my hips don’t need it either.  I need to stretch my grocery money all month.  I’m feeling kind of jealous that this person can have so many goodies.  Yet by the looks of things I know they are eating crap… ALL of the time (I only get it sometimes).  It’s not just a treat here and there.

I look up as the person ahead of me pays for their order since it’s about time for mine to be wrung up.  This person pays with food stamps.  No, I’m not surprised.  Frustrated and angry, but not surprised.   So many people struggle, yet don’t qualify for benefits of any kind.

It just so happened that when I was pulling out of the parking lot, this person was pulling out just ahead of me.  We both travel a little way.  The turn signal is now on for this car in front of me.  This car is much newer than mine.  It turns into the drive-up at a fast food restaurant.  I drive on home.  After I put away my groceries, I’ll have a peanut butter sandwich.

I don’t know the exact circumstances of this person.  I shouldn’t judge.  Times are hard, and hard times don’t seem to discriminate anymore.  But there just seems to be something unfair and unbalanced in the world we live in.

I lived in a mobile home park for 11 years before I moved south.  I managed the park for the last year and a half I lived there.  There in many cases seems to be a trend with some people who receive assistance of one sort or another.  I am only referring to the people of this caliber, not to those who truly need, and manage the assistance they receive carefully and wisely.  Don’t misconstrue what I am trying to get across…

I lived among a lot of people who shopped just as the person ahead of me at the store did.  They seemed to always cry they had no money.  Their kids had new shoes, new coats and backpacks for school.  The cars they drove were not by any means junkers, they were more like Escalades and Camaros.  Some of the ladies were always buying the latest whatever from the Home Interior or Tupperware party they just went to.  Yet… they couldn’t pay their rent on time and always had a sad story of their circumstances to tell.  But... others, who did seem to struggle and didn’t have the newer things but somehow still had one thing in common...  week after week after week after week on trash day there were always pizza delivery boxes and KFC buckets in their trash.  EVERY WEEK.  

So, my question is this… Does the drive-thru take food stamps?

Waiting for the Prize Patrol

You go to the mailbox... there it is.  You knew eventually it would come.  You open it and there it is... someone, YOU have the chance to win.  YOU!  How could this be?  You have the chance to win a big ol' pile of cash and prizes.  A dream come true...

Not YOU.  ME!  I'm gonna win.  I'm gonna pick through all the little stampy looking things with magazines pictured on them showing me how much 4 monthly payments will get me the most issues of and I'm gonna lick and stick them to the little card and enter the Publishers Clearing House Sweepstakes and I'M GONNA WIN!!!  It's my turn.  After all, I've faithfully bought magazines from PCH all my adult life just for such an honor.  So this time is rightfully mine.

I have selected my magazines, licked and sticked the little stampy things to my entry.  I've scratched off the little thingy with a quarter to increase my chance to win a new car, put it all back in the enclosed envelope, checked the little box that says "Yes I'm ordering", put my stamp on it and everything... just like I've been directed to do.  I jumped in my car and made a special trip to the post office to get it in the mail back to the prize people the same day and everything.  I AM GOING TO WIN!  After all, it is my turn.


Then I called my hairdresser.  She does great work.  I think she has a magic wand.  From there I went and got a manicure and a mini-pedi, and from there I went to the department store and the lady at the make-up counter gave me a make-over.  I bought all the stuff she recommended to make me beautiful (it only cost $397.45 tax and all).  I then bought an entire new wardrobe.  After all, I couldn't open the door to the prize patrol looking like a dowdy house wife.  I have to be ready.

Now... all I have to do is sit back an wait for the van to pull up in my driveway... well not really.  First I will have to make sure the house is clean, they will want to take photographs.  That reminds me to buy a new vase for the roses.  They always give the winner roses.  I AM GOING TO WIN! After all, it is my turn.

Now, all I have to do is sit back and wait for the van to pull into the driveway.  While I wait I'm going to make a list of everything I'm going to do with the money.  Of course I'll have to pay for the pesky magazines, the first payment anyway... then I can cancel them.  I do that every year anyway after I find out I didn't win.  BUT... This time is different.  I'M GONNA WIN!  After all, it is my turn.

After I cancel the magazines, I'm going to have a 12 foot privacy fence built all the way around my house.  Do you know why?  I have a nosy neighbor down the street.  It's going to kill her that I won.  It's gonna kill her even more that she can't see what I'm doing with all the money!  That reminds me, I need to call a fence company and get an estimate on how much a fence like that will cost.  I need to keep track of the money.  I'm not hiring an accountant to steal me blind.  Oh, I have to ask the fence man about putting Constantina wire around the top of the fence to keep her from peeking over the top and keep people out who will come out of the woodwork wanting to borrow money and want "charitable donations".

Let's see, to the list I better add things like someone to clean the bathrooms, I've always hated that job.  I'm going to add a new car, oh and all three of my boys need a Harley.  That will keep them from mooching off Mom for a while too.  See I have a plan for everything.  I want one of those little Rumba vacuum cleaners because I have a bad back, and everything in the house is gonna have a "clapper" on it so I never have to get up to turn stuff off and on.  I'm gonna get a life alert thing to in case I fall and can't get up.  I think I'll start staying up late and watching infomercials for more ideas.  After all, that is a lot of money. Oh! I need to call a travel agent.  There are all kinds of places I want to visit.  They will also know what I need to do to get a passport. 

I wonder how I can set up an off shore bank account?  I'll be darned if Uncle Sam is gonna tax the interest off my winnings.  I AM GOING TO WIN! 

After all, it IS my turn. 


(originally posted on 31 March 2011)

What Will Happen When I Get Old

(previously posted on my old blog)

Now that I’ve reached middle age I’ve been contemplating becoming a senior citizen.  I know it’s a little while off yet, but I don’t want it to sneak up on me like this middle age stuff did, so I think I need to develop a plan of some kind.  My husband is 13 years older than me, so the chances are more than likely that someday I’ll be figuring this out for myself anyway.

My kids say “When you’re old enough we’re gonna put you in a home!” jokingly from the line of the movie ‘Stepbrothers’.

My son did say I could come live with them… but he’s not changing diapers.  Hopefully that will buy me a few years before “the home”. 

My daughter-in-law works at a nursing home.  I figure one day she will give me a tour of where she works… she will show me the recreation room, the gardens, the dining room, she will walk me through the kitchen which she is the supervisor of, she will show me the nurses stations and introduce all of the employees to me as we meet them along the way, she will show me the corridors, and then she will say I want you to see how nice the rooms are… and when I go inside one she’ll say isn’t this nice?  Then she will say… glad you like it… it’s yours.

She won’t have a choice… my sons won’t give her an option… it’s that or let me live in her house... FOREVER.  What else is the poor girl gonna do?  I can’t blame her… It’s my kids that need a whoopin, she’s a sweet girl, and I wouldn’t want me around either.

So… That is what I face unless I can come up with a better plan on my own…  I’ve been trying to figure something out for a while now.  I got nothin’. 

I figure I could sell my house and get one of those little bitty one room apartments, but then I think that for me, downsizing means simply getting rid of more of my kids and husbands stuff… it has nothing to do with getting rid of anything of my own and a one bedroom apartment would just never work.

I would have to find someplace that would allow dogs.  All of my life I’ve had a dog with the exception of when I lived in a trailer park for 11 years.  Looking back, those were the unhappiest 11 years of my life… I think it is because I didn’t have a dog.  Yup, wherever I live must allow dogs.

I would stay in my own home but by then I’ll be too old to get in and out the front door to the car.  There’s 8 steps and that just isn’t gonna work for long.  I don’t see any need in a 1 acre lot that I can’t mow either.  On a fixed income I don’t think I could keep up with paying for yard work and maintenance on the yard and home for long.  I’d really rather have my money to keep internet and a cell phone than have the yard look good for the neighbors.  Heck I’m in the house all the time, what do I care what it looks like out there for?  Granny has priorities.  Yep... definitely need to sell my house.

The day will come when my kids will take away my car keys.  I had to do that with my Mother-in-law… nobody in the family had the guts to stand up to her stubbornness.  I think they were more afraid of making her mad than afraid she’d hurt someone else.  I don’t want to put my kids through that mess like we went through with her.  I will just hand them the keys.  Heck, I don’t like to drive now so giving up my keys is no big deal.  I will gladly let them take me where I need to go… as long as I can go in a car… I’m not going anywhere on one of their motorcycles.  I figure I’ll already have one foot on the grave and the other on a banana peel.  I can't see myself in a leather jacket and support hose.  A motorcycle riding granny?  Not me.

My parents always teased my brother and I that when they retired they were going to get an RV and come and stay at my house for a couple of weeks … and eat steak every night… and then go to my brother’s for a couple of weeks and eat steak every night…. Hog the bathroom, plug into our electricity and run up the bill… I always thought they were teasing, and so far I guess that’s what it was since they haven’t pulled up in the driveway in their RV, plugged into my electric and expected steak dinners at my table every night… 

I have 3 boys… I could keep my dogs, sell the house, buy and RV and eat steak every night, In 2 week intervals they would each only be stuck with Mom for 4 months of the year… and when the nightly steak has to go in a blender so I can eat it with a spoon or straw and I finally do need diapers, I will cooperate and go to a home.

Yup, I think my parents had a good plan, even if they were just joking

Diggin' Up the Dead

  Genealogy has been a big thing since Alex Haley’s “Roots” made the best seller list and then became a movie.  Everyone saw it because it came out on prime time TV long before cable and satellite, computers and video games (except for table tennis in black and white).  Roots seemed to spur more people to search out their ancestors than ever before.  However, long before Roots my church has been very interested in genealogy and holds the largest repository of records in the world.

   I have been attending a weekly class to help me figure out more about doing genealogy than the few things I knew before.  I’m learning about all kinds of resources I never knew existed.  I’m getting better organized about keeping all the information I’ve gleaned on my ancestors straight in the process.

  My Mom has always been our “Family Genealogist”.  She has traced some lines of the family back to the 1500’s and beyond and has collected information on more than 25,000 family members.  With Mom doing all that over the years I never really got the bug myself.  Why should I?  She was doing a pretty good job and I could just get it all from her!

  A couple of books fell into our hands for my husband’s side of the family… My interest was piqued and I started organizing the information the books contained as what was contained in them was in random order.  Finally after several months I had it sorted out on paper.  The basics… names, places and dates… who begat who and all their siblings and in-laws too. 

  After organizing all of this information I entered it all into the computer and left it alone with the exception of taking care of some sacred ordinances on behalf of each person I had “dug up”.  I just lost the fire to go any further with it.  My husband was intimidated by it so it has just sat for a while until I started this weekly class.

  It’s funny how information can just fall into your lap sometimes. 

  I’ve been dabbling half halfheartedly on and off for the last several weeks and while rummaging through facebook posts I saw that a family member had discovered a facebook page with the sole intent of family history on a specific line on my Mom’s side of the family.  I quickly asked to join the page and found myself up until 3:00 am gleaning pictures and tidbits of information about some of the people in them. 

  My computer skills have developed quickly as to how to gather and organize the old photographs and information and to enter it into Legacy (a computer program specific to genealogy – free on the internet).  I’ve been inspired to “dig a little deeper”.  I was told about a website called “Find a Grave” which contains photographs of tombstones and some obituaries from all across the country.  At first I didn’t have much luck but I am finding more all the time. 

  This week I discovered photos from an entire cemetery where everyone in it is related to me no matter their last name.  Teasers I think these bits of information are…  I gain just enough information to keep me working at it.  It has amazed me to find so much information in the last couple weeks. 

  The information has been there all the time just waiting to be discovered, but only comes one piece at a time, but like a roll of toilet paper each piece is connected to another and another and another and it is downright  frustrating to run out of… You just have to find another roll.

  It has been quite amazing to me how easily I can get lost in all of it.  It seems like I just start and I look at the clock and I’ve been at it for hours.  I’ve found myself going to bed at 2:00, 3:00 and 4:00 in the morning over the last few days.  It seems the dead don’t want me to sleep.   I suppose it’s like being a grave robber going hunting in the grave yard late at night.  So, here it is, way past dark and I’m back to diggin’ up the dead.