Ghost Hour

The whippoorwill's song is quiet
the lonely owl calls up the night
purple shadows in the gloaming
pass just beyond the window's light


The moon is riding high above
silver paints thick on golden leaves
that rustle in the frosted wind
and rattle drily at the eaves


Faces brighten at the fireside
backs huddle to the gathered dark
one voice raises in a story
about the time when spirits spark


When lonely careless maidens might
meet danger from some unknown hand
and strong men suffer deadly ends
from Satan's roving wicked band


The clock rings in the midnight hour
the voice is quiet, no one talks
all minds are on the black outside
and wonder if some demon stalks


But blue paint guards the window frames
and salt is scattered 'round about
blue bottles dangle on the trees
and keep the evil spirits out

Susanna Holstein c2008

Economically Speaking

Aren't we in a mess? I can't decide where to place my anger:

• at Wall Street bankers for their greed,
• at the mortgage companies for selling mortgages to people unable to pay them and then ducking out by bundling and selling these poor debts
• at the American public for their stupidity in taking out mortgages far beyond their ability to pay,
• at Congress for playing politics at such a crucial time,
• or at George Bush and his advisors for the wrong-headed, short-sided decisions that led to this moment.

Am I the only one who can't figure out where the anger should be directed? What are you feeling? What frustrates you most?

It's a mess that most of us had no part in, but we will be paying for it. I know life isn't fair, but for once I'd like it to be unfair to someone besides those of us who work and live in the expectation that those we put into positions of power and control are behaving ethically and prudently.

Otis Meets the Movies

Some of you who've been reading my blog for a while might remember that we took our television out 2 years ago. Larry started suffering withdrawal last winter so for Christmas I bought him a little personal DVD player.

He loves it. He can watch movies, which is what he missed most, and then just put the whole thing away. I love it because he can put the whole thing away.

Now, Otis came here in July as a puppy. He's never been around TV. He's an outside dog most of the time, so the DVD player has not been around where he's been.




Until last night when Larry let him in, and then turned on the DVD player.



Otis was astounded. As you can see by his face in these photos. Too funny!

I think he likes it!

So Many Books...

...just waiting for me to be home more to read them. How many of you have stacks like this?

I swear I buy books almost weekly, either online or at a used book sale or something. Like I don't already have enough books. But I see something that catches my interest and next thing I know it's on top of yet another teetering pile.

I weed my books too. I don't keep every book I buy forever and ever. There's just no space to do that, and my interests change. I remember when I had a copy of every single Agatha Christie paperback! Loved 'em.

I seldom read fiction any more because real life is so intriguing. Unless you count folk and fairy tales. But libraries have those cataloged as nonfiction! (I love it--ol' Dewey knew a thing or two).

It's hilarious how many people think that if you work in a library you actually get to read all those books. Who has time? Even the shelvers are hard-pressed to find time to sit down and read.

Books have to be re-shelved after someone brings them back, and if you consider that even a small library will check out 400-1000 or more items a day, you can see the size of the shelving job. In my job, I'm removed from the collection now--I read stuff like OSHA and ADA regulations and cooling tower RFPs. Thrilling, I assure you.

The teetering piles will have to wait a little while longer. But when the time comes I plan to dig in and just read and read and read.

And probably buy more books. Especially old ones. I just can't resist.

Classic Ghosts: Thomas Hardy

Viktor Vasnetsov, Grave-digger, 1871

Ah, Are You Digging My Grave?

By Thomas Hardy (1840-1928 )

Ah, are you digging on my grave

My loved one? planting rue?

''No: yesterday he went to wed

One of the brightest wealth has bred.

"It cannot hurt her now", he said,

"That I should not be true."

Then who is digging on my grave?

My nearest dearest kin?

Ah, no; they sit and think, "What use!

What good will planting flowers produce?

No tendance of her mound can loose

Her spirit from Death's gin."

But some one digs upon my grave?

My enemy? prodding sly?

''Nay: when she heard you had passed the Gate

That shuts on all flesh soon or late,

She thought you no more worth her hate,

And cares not where you lie."

Then, who is digging on my grave?

Say since I have not guessed !

''O it is I, my mistress dear,

Your little dog, who still lives near,

And much I hope my movements here

Have not disturbed your rest?"

Ah, yes! You dig upon my grave . . .

Why flashed it not on me

That one true heart was left behind!

What feeling do we ever find

To equal among human kind

A dog's fidelity !

"Mistress, I dug upon your grave

To bury a bone,

in caseI should be hungry near this spot

When passing on my daily trot.

am sorry, but I quite forgot

It was your resting-place."

Ah well. A bit twisted, but perhaps more true than we'd like to think! Thomas Hardy certainly had a wry way of looking at people and their efforts anyway. And yet two of his books, Return of the Native and Tess of the D'Urbervilles, are still among my most favorite books. Perhaps because he saw so keenly into the human heart and the vanity of our hopes?

Overheard at Breakfast

My husband and I overheard a man on his cell phone at the restaurant yesterday morning:

"She put what in her ear? Why did she do that?"
(Okay, he had my attention)

"She can't get it out, huh? What did she try?"

"I can't imagine why she'd want to put it in her ear."

"She'll have to go to the doctor, that's all."

"Well, tell her she has to go. I don't care if she feels stupid."

Long patient wait.

"She might as well quit trying to get it out. She's probably making it worse."

"Call me when you get back from the doctor. I bet she feels ridiculous."

He hangs up, then turns to his breakfast companions.

"It wouldn't be so bad if she wasn't nineteen years old!"


Hoooo boy.

Packing Lunch a Little Greener

Many of us are finding new ways to save, recycle, and re-use. Here's a few things I've been doing when I pack my lunch. None of them are earth-shattering, but little things that take little time and reduce waste:



1. Instead of buying yogurt in the little containers, we buy it in big tubs like cottage cheese. It's a lot cheaper, and less plastic goes into the environment.


2. To pack the yogurt for my lunch, I'm using 1/2 pint canning jars instead of plastic containers. They wash up, I have plenty of them, and they're not plastic. Other recycled jars would work too. This isn't a good idea for kids lunches, of course, but most of us adults can manage to carry a glass jar without breaking it (note that I said most!)



3. Ditto for cottage cheese or other liquid-type stuff for lunch.



4. I have always liked wax paper sandwich bags but I have not been able to find any for years. I finally searched online and found that at Webstaurant. com you can buy them 1000 at a time! They're cheap too (15.49/1000)--until you add shipping (12.28). But even with shipping I think they are a little cheaper than plastic sandwich bags.



There are two kinds available, "dry" and "wet." That refers to what you plan to pack in them, not the bags themselves! I opted for the "wet" bags because you never know when a sandwich will leak.



1000 bags should last me a long, long time. Once a bag has been used, it can go in recycling. Cool.



5. Paper lunch bags are a given, of course. And sometimes they can be re-used for several days. I sometimes use the paper bags, but mostly I use a canvas tote bag these days--it washes and can be re-used over and over.



6. I make my morning coffee and take it with me. That saves a stop to buy coffee and one more throwaway cup in the environment. If you don't have time to make coffee, bring your own cup and fill it up instead.


What simple things are you doing to reduce the amount of waste your family creates? I'd love to hear some more ideas.

Too Much Gas?

It's true. In West Virginia you can be arrested for having too much gas.

Who would have thought in these times of gas shortages that a man would be hauled off to jail for having too much gas?

The ramifications for all of us are scary.

You can read all about it in this AP article.

Jose Cruz, you're a lucky man. The rest of us complain about the price of gas, and you have it for free!

No wonder they put you in jail...

Vintage World War II Photos

I was browsing through my picture files, and came upon these photos from my father's time in the Army Air Force during World War II. Some of them have a little information, others do not. I decided that I will post them each week from now through October, since Dad's 85th birthday would have been October 24th. If you recognize anything and can add more information (especially if you know anything about the Steeple Morden air base, or about the photos of planes, etc), please do leave a comment.

My Dad, William I. Connelly, Jr just after boot camp.


On the HMS Queen Mary, 1943. I believe he was on his way to England at this time. He told me that they took a very circuitous route, going first to the Caribbean region, then to Scotland, I think, and south to England from there. According to Dad, it was to throw off the U-boats.

The back of the photo says" Lil Lo,Texas Hun Hunter."


A squadron flying out of Steeple Morden to Germany. Since Dad wasn't in a job that required flying, I'm not sure how he got the photo. Perhaps a friend took it, or maybe he did make a trip or two.


Transition from P-47's to P-51's, Steeple Morden, England. Probably taken in 1943 or 1944.

Joe's Run Saturday Morning

Morning mail, with flowers

Breakfast

Be-dewed jewelweed

Close-up jewels

and royal purple ironweed.

A lovely autumn morning.

Reading Review: A Goodly Half Dozen

Many days it seems like I have little time to read print materials. I have to be able to read in short bursts, and I prefer to read something I can finish. Magazines and journals fit that bill nicely. Here are some of my favorites:

Appalachian Heritage, published by Berea College (KY) and edited by George Brosi. For keeping up with Appalachian Literature, new voices and excellent poetry and prose, Appalachian Heritage is one of the best resources. Published quarterly, each issue offers in-depth information on a featured author, poetry, stories, literary criticism, and reviews of recent publications.

ABZ is a poetry journal published through Marshall University (WV). The poetry offerings are diverse; according to their submission guidelines, they prefer " interesting and exciting language." This little gem is published annually. (no cover view available online, unfortunately).

Book Links is a must for children's librarians, teachers and storytellers. The journal focuses on a theme for each issue; the latest issue celebrates the arts. Each issue includes reviews of children's literature on the selected topic, suggested lists of books for programs, interviews with authors and more. I was introduced to Book Links as a librarian, but now I have a personal subscription. A little pricey at about $40.00 for a year (published bi-monthly), I think it is worth every penny for anyone involved with children's literature or programming.

Goldenseal is West Virginia's premier folk life magazine. Published by the WV Division of Culture and History, this quarterly publication is filled with history, folklore, vintage photos, book reviews and more. It's a quality publication and worth every penny of its low $18 subscription rate.

Poetry Magazine is published by The Poetry Foundation. Another one on the pricey side, Poetry offers poetry from around the world, exposing its readers to new voices, themes and rhythms, along with author interviews, book reviews and literary criticism. At $35 a year, it's a little expensive , but this is still one of my favorite reads.

Rattlesnake Review: I just got my first copy of Rattlesnake Review, and I love it! It's cheeky, varied and just plain unusual for a poetry journal. Although focusing mainly on the poets of Northern California, the Review also includes the work of poets outside of California (even me! one of my poems is in the current issue--how cool is that?).

Barn

Lift the latch,

Hand-forged or hand-hewn,

Come inside

to watch the stars above

in a barn 150 years old.

This is the barn on my son Derek's place. Handhewn beams and latches, put together with pegs instead of nails, it withstood the winds of time and change.

Don't you love it? Sometime soon I need to go inside and take pictures of the stars from the inside out. They are amazing. Think about the farmer who toiled with hand tools, but still had the artistic drive to cut those stars out of oak boards.

Why? Because they would be beautiful.

Now that's an artist.

Worthington

Once it was a proud and bustling place. Now there's little left of its coal-boom days. That was before the Farmington disaster, before the Monongah disaster, before coal lost its place of glory in the energy world, before people got smart and formed unions to protect themselves.

In those days the streets were full of people. Saturdays were busy days as the miners and their wives came to town to spend their money.

We pass through this little town every time we visit our son Aaron and his family in Marion County, West Virginia.

There are still a few signs of the town's past: an aging building with an unusual door and curving brick was probably once a bank. Some houses still standing have the bravado of an old lady who once knew what it was to wear silk and now wears her faded cotton dress with her head held high.

Something about old coal towns speaks to me. A dark voice, virile and raucous, full of the tales of what once was, of the men and the women who made the place and fought for it and died too. The houses huddled close together as if seeking comfort from danger and cold, the boarded up stores that surely once were filled with goods and customers. These towns are like closed, worn diaries.

Find the secret lock and open it, and the stories of the people will spill into the light. Some of them too terrible, perhaps, to be viewed in full sunlight in all their gory truth; others sparkling with a beauty that blinds.

Davit McAteer told the story of Monongah in his recent book, and the 100th anniversary of the terrible mine explosions was observed on December 7, 2007. Worthington, just a few miles down the road, still holds its stories for the person who finds the key.

No Respect

Chloe, my friend Bob's cat, thinks my new car is just for her to use as a perch to view her queendom.

Sheesh...I'm still treating it like a baby, and Chloe treats it like a stool.

But she sure looks pretty up there, doesn't she?

Monsters Online: Thirteen for Luck

After yesterday's post about monsters, I did a little online searching for monsters. They are all over the world--in story, anyway. Here are 13 tales to tickle your spine or fascinate your mind:

The Bear Lake Monster--a tale from Utah--an American monster tale. Think we only had Bigfoot and his kind? Think again. (Matthew, Pendleton County can rival anything any place cooks up when it comes to monsters!)

Beowulf (European)--the classic, retold online. Still a chilling tale.

Beauty and the Beast (European)--so many, many versions of this motif exist in stories. But this is probably the one we know best (not counting Disney, which doesn't count anyway).

The Monster Who Had Fire (African)--Stories on this site are retold by the website's author who grew up in Nigeria and remembers the stories being told. This one sounds a lot like Mr. Skinnyhead. Serendipity of a strange sort?

The Princess Lily (Chinese)--a vivid story, not scary but well-told by a young artist who puts art and story together on her blog. Although she's not posted in some time, her posts are well-written and include source notes and many details that storytellers love. Beekeepers will like this story too.

The Killing of Old Men: A Story from the Time of the Romans--an old story dating collected by a German folklorist in 1845, the motif of this story (killing off older people instead of allowing them to grow old and be cared for) is found in many cultures. In some of the stories, the wisdom of the elder becomes valued by the younger generations, and thus they are saved; in other versions, the wisdom of a child, who innocently points out to his parents that they too will see the same fate, causes a change of heart and saves the old one's life. From the Pitt public domain collection.

Dog's Repay; or, The Monster Centipede (Korea)--a strange story, but again a familiar motif: a dog risks its own life to save its master but is rewarded with abuse.

How Olomuroro Made Children Thin (Africa)--another story from the All Folktales site, this story also has a chant included in the story. Now if I knew how to pronounce the words!

The Strange Creature (Zimbabwe)--a tale retold by one of my favorite storytellers, Michael McCarty of California.

The Boy Who Drew Cats (Japan)--Aaron Sheperd's website has many good stories for telling or for reader's theatre. I first saw this classic tale as a children's picture book.

Lord Bag of Rice (Japan)--The Sacred Texts site is home to a wealth of stories. And yet another monster centipede!

The Ogre's Feather (Italy)--an ogre, a princess and deception combine in a clever story that has all the elements of a good fairy tale. From the Whootie Owl site.

The Golem: A Jewish Legend--When I hear Golem, I think immediately of the slippery creature in The Hobbit. But Golem was around long before Tolkien time.

Do you have a favorite monster story or book? Did you have a made-up creature that scared you as a child? Please share with us!

Monsters!

This is a good time of year to consider monsters! After all, don't they lurk in the dusky shadows of long autumn evenings?

When I was young, my sisters and I all slept in one big bedroom. Getting 6 or 7 girls to go to sleep wasn't easy. We'd want to lay in bed and talk. But being the oldest, I was responsible for seeing that everyone went to sleep by the time Dad dictated (dictated being the correct word here). There were times when Dad should have been on the US most wanted list for his ruthless (okay, necessary) setting of rules.

Finally after one long evening of trying to get my sisters to be quiet so we wouldn't be in trouble with Dad, I had a brainstorm.

"He lives in the closet, you know. That long, skinny closet right over there. The one with no light in it. That dark closet. That's where he lives.

He is tall and skinny. he wears a tall black hat and a long black coat. He has a green face, green, slobbery teeth and long fingernails. His name is Mr. Skinnyhead. Do you know what he eats? Little girls who are not asleep when they should be!"

That got their attention. Some started crying, "Don't let him get us!"

"Well, go to sleep!" I replied (heartless, wasn't I?). Another voice came from the darkness.

"I'm too scared to sleep!" Was it Mary or Theresa? Or Judy? I can't remember now, but I do remember what I told them.

"Close your eyes and breathe real slow. He'll think you're asleep and won't bother you."

Instant silence. Much deep breathing. Everyone was soon asleep.

Except me.

I was wide-awake, eyes staring into the darkness in the corner of the room, waiting for the closet door to inch open and a green face peer out at me.

I might have made him up, but that didn't stop me from waiting and watching, night after night.

Many years later my youngest son, Tommy, was between two and three years old. A little guy with big brothers, and a mother who loved to tell scary stories! Somewhere in a book we read about a creature called the SnortSnoot.

Tommy was sure the "NortNoot" lived in our bathroom--he would not venture in there until one of his brothers went in first and fought off the terrible Nort Noot. This effort was usually accompanied with loud yells, much thumping and general hooroaring. Tommy would stand at the door, trying to see the action, and shouting, "Did you get him, (insert brother's name)? Did you get him?" It made potty training an interesting and longer process than it needed to be.

Tommy also had a creature he called the Bumblethunderbeast that lived outside our house. Sometimes I'd see him peeking out the window, and I'd ask, "What are you looking for, honey?"

His big blue eyes wide, his face as somber as a gravedigger's in the rain, he would say in a whisper, "The Bumblethunderbeast. He's out there!"

I would stare out into the night with him, then tell him, "It's okay now. He's gone to bed."

Children need little encouragement to be terrified--their imaginations can do a pretty credible job with no assistance from any other media. The best thing a parent can do is to play with them, make sure the child knows that it's play and not real, and help the child be the "winner" in each imaginative encounter with a scary beast.

Imaginative storytelling and make-believe is more manageable than a movie or even a book, because the child controls the outcome. The movie, video game or book controls the outcome of their story, leaving the viewer/reader the victim of the writer's choices.

Far better in my book to make up your own monsters that you can slay with a single blow!

Of course, Mr. Skinnyhead was in that closet, I'm pretty sure, until long after I grew up and moved away...

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Here is a book list I prepared a few years ago. Some good monster reads, stories and even crafts to help you go spook yourself!

Monstrously Good Books

Legendary Monsters:

Mostly Monsters By Steven Zorn

The One-Eyed Giant and Other Monsters from the Greek Myths
By Anne Rockwell

Bigfoot and Other Legendary Creatures
by Paul R. Walker

Golem
By David Wisniewski

Fabulous Monsters
By Marcia Williams

American Monsters:

The Windigo
By Gayle Ross

Wiley and the Hairy Man
By Judy Sierra

When the Chenoo Howls
By Joseph Bruchac

Sasquatch: Wild Man of the Woods
by Elaine Landau

Monsters from Other Countries:
Yeti: Abominable Snowman of the Himalayas
By Elaine Landau

The Loch Ness Monster
By Elain Landau

Iron John

retold by Eric A. Kimmel

Just for Fun:

Monster Manual by Erich Ballinger

Monster Faces edited by Shaila Awan
Make yourself a Monster! By Kathy Ross

Elizabeth

Me and Elizabeth in 1968--isn't she cute?

Tomorrow is Elizabeth's birthday. She is number #6 sister, and #11 in the order of birth in our family (it goes Bill, Tom, Joe, me, Judy, Mary, Theresa, Maggie, Stephen, John, Elizabeth, Cathy, Julie).

Sisters together in 2002. Lizzie is 3rd from the right.

This is a BAD photo of Julie, and Mary has lost over 50 pounds since then. Me? pretty much the same size and weight today (sigh)

Lizzie has taken an unconventional path through her life, and most of it hasn't been easy. But she has survived. And continues to learn to be a mother and a sister. She is an inspiration to me because she finds a way to keep going, even when all odds are against her. Elizabeth will probably never be rich (but neither will I!), but she will find her way to happiness, and that is better than riches in my book.



So to my little sister, who has traveled rough seas but always reached a lifeboat, I say: Happy, happy birthday. I am so very glad you are my sister.

Making fruitcakes in 2006. Maggie was pasted in because she could not be there due to Roger's severe burns that happened a few motnhs before. This was soon after Dad passed away. We were determined to carry through with the tradition of making fruitcakes, and it was a healing experience. We could laugh, cry and remember together. What a gift. Lizzie is on the right, front row.

I remember when Lizzie was "my baby." Back then, when Mom had children the new babies were sort of assigned to older children. Lizzie was mine. I will always remember her bright black eyes and black hair, her incredible smile that still dazzles. Later, at my brother John's wedding, she danced with my husband in a way that completely won him over--he came back smiling and laughing and full of the force that is Elizabeth. She is a beautiful, beautiful woman, and she is still my baby.

Happy Birthday, Lizzie!

Handsome, Big, and Strong

This story is based on an African tale called A Bear Went for a Walk. When I read the story, the participation possibilities were immediately evident. I could select children to play the parts of the animals (add more animals for more children). I could use the dialog in the text repetitively, with the audience calling out certain words.

The children/animals would all have the same line to say, and it was short enough to be easy to teach in a few seconds. Another adaptation also occurred to me. I could change the animals to those found in my area. Instead of lion, antelope, hippopotamus and zebra, I could use bear, deer, raccoon, and possum. That would regionalize the story and include animals more familiar to children here.

Before you start: Select audience volunteers for: deer, raccoon, possum, and mouse. Teach them their lines. All will be the same except for the mouse. Make sure the mouse knows that he/she must speak loud enough for everyone to hear them. Often the tendency is to speak in a tiny mousy squeak which may not be audible to all, and the story will lose its meaning for those who miss that last line.

A bear went for a walk in the forest. He came upon a little puddle of water in the path. Bear bent down to drink—and there in the water he saw his reflection!"Oh my!" he said. "I am the handsomest, biggest, strongest animal anywhere!No other animal is as...

(here teach the audience their part--go through a couple of practice runs to be sure their volume/inflection is right)

Handsome, Big, and Strong as I am!"

The bear went walking on, looking for another animal to compare himself with. He soon met a white-tailed deer.

"Deer," said Bear, "why is that you are not as (audience) Handsome, Big, and Strong as I am?”

"I don't know," said Deer. And Bear puffed out his chest and walked on.

It wasn't long before he met Raccoon.

"Raccoon," said Bear, "can you tell me why it is that you are not as

(audience)Handsome, Big, and Strong as I am?”

"Well," said Raccoon, "I don't know!"

Bear tossed his fine big head and walked on. There in the path ahead of him was a possum ambling along.

"Hello, Possum!" said Bear. "Can you tell me why you are not as

(audience) Handsome, Big, and Strong as I am?”

"No," said Possum. "I don't know."

The Bear puffed out his great chest and stalked past the possum.

At first, the Bear didn't see the next animal. He heard him--a teeny, tiny "aaaaah-chooo!"

The Bear looked down, and there in the grass at the side of the path was a tiny......mouse.

"Bless you!" said the Bear. "Umm, can you tell me, Mouse, how it is that you are not as

(audience) Handsome, Big, and Strong as I am?”

The tiny mouse looked up at the mighty Bear and said,

"I have been sick, that's why."
________________________________________________________________________
Other Options for Participation
Sing the repeated words to a simple melody.
Let the entire audience say the lines of the animals Bear meets.
Increase the audience lines to include all Bear’s repeated phrase.
Change the animals to reflect your area of the country/world.
Use puppets for the animal roles.

Do you have to use audience members in the animal roles? Of course not! The story could be told as easily without them, and just as effectively. But this is a simple story to try including participation. The way you tell the story is up to you, the storyteller!

Another Teller Reaches the Eternal Stage

Somehow I missed the news that Virginia Tashjian died in March.

Her book, Juba This and Juba That, has been a library and storytelling standard for years.

She also compiled With a Deep Sea Smile and more recently published The Flower of Paradise and other Armenian Tales, and has a book to be released this month called Once There Was and Was Not.

She was quite a storyteller. I hope she is still telling tales somewhere.

Oh Dear! Otis and Baxter

This is Otis.

This is Otis, too. "Look at me, Otis! I'm trying to take your picture!"

Maybe there are things more interesting than me and my camera.

Like Baxter! Baxter is a great big golden chew toy in Otis' view.

See what I mean?

I can't believe Baxter is so patient! He takes just so much, and then a warning growl convinces Otis to seek his fun elsewhere.

One Family's Story of Ike

To get a sense of what it feels like to be hit with hurricanes over and over, you must read Bayou Woman's blog. Before the hurricanes, I was a regular reader, fascinated by the lifestyle of this woman. She has her Captain's license, is the mother of 4 (or is it 5) children, is a passionate advocate for the coastal wetlands, and goes fishing and messes about with 'gators (with a camera anyway).

Bayou Woman's photography of the bayou she loves is stunning; her pictures of the aftermath of Ike are heartbreaking. If you do nothing else this weekend, take a minute to go to her blog and offer a few words of encouragement to this brave heart.

Winners!

Priscilla was the winner of the "What Did She Say?" contest. Congratulations, Priscilla! And I will honor your request to give a CD to the next child who needs it.

Matthew, you were second, and because you are such a good sport, and since the winner is deferring her award, you will get a CD too. Send me your snail mail and I'll send it out.

Thank you to everyone who entered. Almost everyone got ALL the correct answers. I can't believe it took me like 5 minutes to get the first one...but hey, I had to listen to them over the phone! That's harder than seeing them in writing...right?

This is really fun. Thanks again for playing.

A Little Scam

This is something I've experienced several times, and recently it happened again. I was buying a few items at a local store and when the cashier said the amount, it didn't sound right. I had a 4.00 item, bottle of water and a pack of cookies. By my reckoning it should have been about 6.00 total, but the cashier said "seven dollars and three cents please."

I asked her what I was paying for, because my items didn't come to that much. She said, "Yes, you've got yada yada yada and it's seven dollars and three cents." So I took each item and asked the price. She finally realized it wasn't right, and said, "Oh (insert little giggle here), I guess you don't want to pay for my daughter's Slurpee, huh?" Her teenaged daughter, standing close by, looked mortified.

Now folks, maybe this was an innocent mistake. But it's happened to me too many times, almost always in convenience stores. Often when I pay with a debit card, I don't necessarily look closely at the items on the receipt, just at the total.

I know convenience store and fast food places can be very hectic places to work, and people make mistakes. It's bound to happen. But this particular mistake happens too often for me to think it's always accidental. Candy bar? Ring it up and let the next customer pay for it? Coke? Let the distracted guy with the debit card pay for it. It makes me wonder how often I've been hit and not noticed the overcharge.

So how often do you just hand over money, or sign a receipt, without really checking your items against what you paid? I am wondering if this is just something that happens to me, or if it is more widespread. Since my incidents are not always local, I think it must be a little trick that is pulled fairly often in many places.

What's your experience? Has this ever happened to you?

Sunday's Drive Home

Last Sunday we traveled home from the Footmad Fall Fling,on Rte 16 North, the slower route but incredible scenery. I saw many things that I missed getting a photo of: the young man constructing a grapevine tree, a pretty waterfall, a cave beside the road, old buildings. But I did manage to take a few, and I'll share some today, and a few more tomorrow.

Signs, signs....This one grabbed my attention. The shop unfortunately was not open.

The shop rested beside an old mill, hence the name.

This was a truly beautiful place. The house which is hidden behind the trees to the left, was three floors high and in excellent condition. I was amazed to find this unmarked beauty. I have no idea what the name of the mill might have been. This was in Fayette County.

The peaceful Elk River near Ivydale in Clay County. The Elk is one of my favorite rivers, running from the high mountains in Pocahontas County to Charleston, ever-changing along its path but always beautiful.

The entrance to Ivydale, a small, quiet community reached by crossing the Elk River on an old iron bridge. We saw absolutely no one when we drove through the town, but then it was over 90 degrees so everyone was probably inside.

What Did She Say?

My son had an assignment in his communications class that had him completely puzzled. He called me and we puzzled together. Light finally dawned--the quotes were doublespeak!

Can you decipher these? Although his teacher did not seem to have quoted a source, I did find these questions online, apparently as part of a class assignment. I do not know the author, so if you do, please share.

(And no cheating by looking online for the answers, yall!)

1. Excessive observation of a receptacle containing a liquid heated to achieve a simmering point rarely accomplishes its goal.


2. The chemical structure of circulatory fluid has greater viscosity than the colorless, transparent liquid occurring on earth rivers, lakes, or oceans.



3. That which was easily acquired with little or no effort is often dissipated in a likewise fashion.


4. Positive outcomes are often visited on those who understand the gift of patience.


5. An individual cursed with the mental capacities of a simpleton may be separated from his capital means through less than diligent practices.

Answers? Winner gets a Granny Sue CD!

The Guardian in Camo

The Garden Guardian (he was our scarecrow this summer and did a great job) has found a new duty station.

He's guarding the corn shock Larry put up for Fall decoration. He's well-hidden by his camouflage, isn't he?

Granny's Got a Brand New Ride!

Well, not really new...it's a 2006, but it's new to me. A Buick! Who would have thought it. (Now I really feel old.) When I looked at all the options, the size and the gas mileage, it was the vehicle that met all my needs best. I'm keeping my fingers crossed that it will be a good choice and last me a long, long time.

As for the little green car, it's still here and will be used regularly for running to town and even to commute to work.

What finally made me go shopping was something so small it sounds silly--the window buttons on the front windows quit working this weekend. Every day, I put the driver's window down at least twice, going in and out of the parking garage. It's a major hassle when the window won't go back up. We'll fix them--the motors on both windows are apparently burned out. And maybe the contacts on the buttons need to be replaced too.

Those are doable repairs. Larry and Tim can do them, I'm sure. But it really brought the point home to me that (sigh) the little green Nissan Sentra is getting old and maybe won't be as reliable as it has been. Which is funny to say, considering that we just drove it on a 400-mile round trip this weekend, even though it has 243,000miles on it!

Now to get used to a different vehicle. And a car payment again. Yuk. But I'm glad I finally took the time to go shopping, and that this is one more decision that is off my plate.

And the color? Perfect--hides the dust and dirt really well!