Sunday, September 30, 2007

Oh good grief!

Cliff rides the grandson's dirt bike (that has no seat)

I heard the grandson's noisy dirt bike and looked out the door to see what he was doing.  It was Cliff riding it!  Men are eternal boys.

"That thing's got some go-power," Cliff said as he got off, grinning.

"Do you think he'll kill himself on it?"

"Oh, no doubt."

Gee, thanks for the reassuring words, Cliff.

Arick has a seat ordered for it, and then the two "boys" will be able to ride in earnest.  I guess it's pretty uncomfortable, sitting right on the bike like that... or standing.

eating out

I love to eat out; Cliff wouldn't care if he ever ate anyplace but home.

Where we live, the nearest place to dine away from home is eight miles away... unless you count the Village Inn, which is more of a bar that happens to serve Mexican food.  They're a little pricey to suit me, and they don't have a huge menu.  So you'd think it would be easy to resist temptation, eat at home, and stay healthy.

Cliff's heart surgery and recovery has been a big incentive in keeping us out of salty, fatty restaurants, and we try to eat out no more than once a week.  Sometimes, however, we do go overboard. 

Here's what happens:  Cliff works second shift, leaving for work at 2:30 P.M.  So we do our grocery-shopping or farm-supply shopping, or make our monthly-or-so trip to Sam's Club, on weekday mornings after our walk.  That has us departing home around 10 A.M. 

No matter in which direction we go, we find ourselves right in front of someplace to eat at noon.  Sam's Club isn't so far from Olive Garden; and Smokehouse Barbecue and Fazoli's are right across the road.  Price Chopper grocery is in a suburb of Kansas City that has just about every chain restaurant you've ever heard of (except for anyplace featuring steak).  Ten miles to the south of home, there's Pizza Hut (my biggest weakness) and Subway.  Eight miles east, there's our favorite Mexican eatery and another Pizza Hut; and now, a brand new Chinese buffet that totally rocks, and blows the dirty little Chinese place that's been in that town for years out of the water.

Picture me as Eve and Cliff as Adam (only with clothes, not fig leaves).   This Eden we inhabit has forbidden fruit everywhere.

But I do want my husband healthy. 

Cliff, who weighs every morning, recently crept up to 210 pounds over a five-day period when we ate out three times.  Not good.  He tries to stay at 205, and with my help, he does.

So we've been eating at home.  It helps if we skip our walk on the day we shop, because that gets us out early and puts us in the danger zones before all those places open for business.

Of course, meanwhile I'm plotting where we'll eat out, the minute he's back to 205.  Yesterday he was 206.

I think we'd better stay out of the buffets, don't you?

Eve, I feel your pain.

Saturday, September 29, 2007

A special article about my late cousin

Cliff happened to see this article in todays Kansas City Star about a cousin of mine whose funeral we attended a couple of weeks ago.  Click HERE for the article.

I blogged about Cecil in this entry.

motorcycle ride

I asked Cliff this morning what was on his agenda.

"Nothing," he said.  "We'd go for a bike ride, but we went for one yesterday."

"So is there a law against riding two days in a row?"

"I guess not.  Where do you want to go?"

"Oh, someplace with some sort of little museum or place of interest, so we'd have a destination in mind.  Maybe we could go to Sedalia and visit your cousin Kenneth."

Cliff didn't sound real thrilled with the prospect, but it was as good as anything he could come up with.  He went out to get the motorcycle ready and I googled up some places of interest around Sedalia.

I found websites for the Bothwell mansion and a historic depot-turned-museum.

When we're riding the motorcycle, we avoid freeways like the plague.  We take the lettered county roads as much as possible, which sometimes gets us lost.  But on a motorcycle, getting lost is an adventure.  Twice today our blacktop county roads turned to gravel and we had to backtrack; touring bikes don't do well on gravel.

We took our usual picnic lunch of sardines and crackers, plus a cantaloupe for dessert.  Cliff used his pocketknife to cut it; we spooned the seeds out, and we each ate half.

I'll do other entries about the interesting places we visited at Sedalia.  Otherwise this entry could get far too long.

By the way, we never did find out where Kenneth lives, and got lost hunting for him.  It was great fun!

Friday, September 28, 2007

I've been vacuuming

Yes indeedy, I've been keeping my Dyson vacuum busy.  Honestly, vacuuming is my new hobby; it's so much fun to empty that thing and watch it fill up again.  I'm serious!  As you can see above, I still take time out for a horseback ride in the bottoms from time to time.

Anyhow, there haven't been many journal entries, because I knew people wouldn't find it very interesting to see pictures of my Dyson, or read about how much it sucks. 

I had a conversation with the grandson last night; he stretched out on the couch with his head on a pillow, and I said, "If you go to sleep there, do you want me to wake you up?"  (He's been known to go to sleep on the couch at 5 P.M. and sleep there until morning.)

"No!  I'm not going to go to sleep on the couch today!  I don't know why I'm so sleepy all the time; I think something's wrong with me."

"Well, let's see," I said.  "It's 7:15 now.  You would have had to go to bed fifteen minutes ago in order to get eight hours of sleep tonight, because you have to get up at three o'clock in the morning to be at work by four."

"Really?"  He sat bolt upright and looked at the clock.

"Yep.  Two and two makes four." (I got that from Barney Fife on an old Andy Griffith Show I watched a couple days ago).  "And then there's the fact that you didn't go to bed at all, night before last; that sort of thing catches up with you eventually."

He confessed that he was in pursuit of female companionship that night.  "That could have added to his weariness," I thought to myself.  (Imagine me rolling my eyes here.)

"Dang, I was going to go to the doctor to see why I've been so tired," he said.

I should have told him to give me fifty bucks for an office call.  I saved him the cost of whatever prescription he'd have had to purchase, too.

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Tuesday, September 25, 2007

It's raining!

This is the first decent rain we've had in over two months; last time Cliff checked, it was up to an inch... and still coming down!


Monday, September 24, 2007

I can't stop smiling

I've loved Johnny Cash forever.  There were some years, back in the days of the old Columbia Record Club, when the only records I ordered were Johnny Cash.  They're all still upstairs in my junk room, and I have CD's of some of them now.

"Walk The Line" is one of my favorite movies.  I visit
often.  Which is where I found out there's a DVD called "The Best Of The Johnny Cash Show".

I ordered it, and received it today.  It's the best $40 I've spent in a long time.

Watching it, I'm twenty-five years old again and it's Saturday night;
Country music singers don't have to be pretty (or handsome); I have a baby daughter and a toddler son.  I own a Gibson Dove guitar that I later sold for a pittance, not knowing how much it was worth.  (But I have another one now, and it won't go anywhere until after I die.) 

On this DVD, I've seen:  Bob Dylan; Kris Kristofferson (back when I had a crush on him and had his picture on my dresser... poor Cliff); Louis Armstrong; Creedence Clearwater Revival; Waylon Jennings (before he was "an outlaw"); James Tayler; Pete Seeger; Neil Young; Mother Maybelle Carter; Joni Mitchell; Eric Clapton, back when he was Derek and the Dominoes; Bill Monroe; Jerry Lee Lewis; Tony Joe White; Stevie Wonder;  Conway Twitty... and so many others!

Cliff's going to love this one.  I think Kevin, my son-in-law, will enjoy a few of these songs too.

I'm still smiling.

If you remember the old "Johnny Cash Show" on television, you'll love this.  Wow.

I lost an aunt last week

Aunt Alice lived a good, long life, spending many of her winters in Texas even after her husband, my mom's brother, Paul, passed away.  I only have two aunts living now:  Aunt Mary and Aunt Ruth, and only one aunt who is a blood relative... Daddy's sister, my Aunt Gladys.  All my uncles are gone.

Seems like I'm hearing about a lot of funerals lately.

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That's Aunt Alice and Uncle Paul before he went off to help win World War II.

Sunday, September 23, 2007

Motorcycle Swap Meet

I saw an ad last week on Craigslist for a motorcycle swap meet at Twin Drive-in, and mentioned it to Cliff.  He agreed that it would make for a nice little ride for us, so we headed out early today and arrived at our destination around 8:30.

It didn't take long for us to realize that this was mostly a Harley crowd.  Which means there were lots of tattoos, beards, Harley shirts, and old rock-group concert shirts.  Along with the ever-present smell of cannabis wafting on the breeze and the sight of men having beer for breakfast. 

Gotta love those Harley owners.

Free, legal, MP3 downloads

I ran into this website while reading one of my regular journals, Astoria Oregon Rust.  Let me quote him, because I don't really understand all the wheres, hows, and wherewithals about it.

"Since then I been checking out that link because it offers downloads of works that have had their copy rights expire, meaning free downloads. If you are really into the old stuff you can obtains volumes of free stuff...."

"This site is also a resource for all sorts of stuff that is not copy right protected: art, books on tape, live music recordings, films, interviews and much more music. It also has stuff that artists want to share with the public for free. So no matter if you are into the really old stuff or the really new stuff, you can go there and download more music than you will ever have time to listen to."

As if I needed anything else to keep me at the computer.  There are several Grateful Dead concerts to download, just to give you a hint of what you might find. 

Anyway, you'll find the website HERE.

I like the old Carter Family songs, and I found them on the site.

Just type a singer or group into the search box and see if you find them.

Saturday, September 22, 2007

Cliff's sis is moving away

Cliff and I headed out on the motorcycle before noon; the first place we went was his sister's house, not far from here.  She and her husband have been our riding buddies ever since we bought the first Gold Wing.  Due to the brother-in-law's job change, they're moving to St. Louis, where they've already bought a house.

I'm glad for them; Charlene is tickled to death with the house, and seems to love St. Louis.  But we're going to miss riding with them.

Cliff figured they might need his help loading stuff, but they seemed to have things well in hand.

That's Pat in the truck, and that's a friend of his helping out.  A very strong friend, I might add.  Charlene is supervising.

Their son, Jeremiah, was helping, too.

That's Jeremiah's motorcycle.

Cliff's sister has a lot of exercise equipment.

Since they didn't seem to need our help, we left.  But not without taking a final picture of Cliff with his baby sister.  We're going to miss you, Charlene!

the money squeeze

When gasoline prices first started shooting for the moon, it was a shock to my system, as I'm sure it was to everybody.  The budget had to be re-adjusted and Cliff needed more "allowance" each week for gas money. 

Then the gas prices began to affect groceries.  In my whole life, I've never seen grocery prices rise as fast as they have in the past year.  And the media folks wonder why there are a record number of foreclosures?

I have a lot of heart-healthy, bean-and-rice dishes, and I can see I'm going to need to rely more and more on those... not for health purposes only, but to keep the groceries affordable.

There's a website that is really helpful to those of us who struggle with the rising prices.  I keep the link on my Blogger journal, but just to make sure everybody knows about it, I'm sharing it today.

It's the Hillbilly Housewife.  Click HERE for good advice and affordable meals.

Friday, September 21, 2007

I'm cooking up something

We started planning a trip to Branson with the daughter's two girls a couple of weeks ago.  It occurred to me later to invite the grandson who's living here, although I figured he'd pass on the idea.  Then I remembered I have a granddaughter in Blue Springs, and who would want to leave HER out?

So far, the daughter's girls are going, and so is my son's oldest daughter.  The grandson who lives here is thinking about it.  He might want to take his own transportation in case things get too boring.

One of the nifty things about this trip is that my "bestest" Internet friend, Lona, is going to be in Branson that same weekend.  I hope to get together with her and her kinfolk, if only briefly.

I hope and pray this works out happily for all involved.

Now playing: Ricky Nelson - A Teenager In Love
via FoxyTunes   


Thursday, September 20, 2007

miniature cattle

One of my readers commented that she didn't realize Meatloaf was a miniature. 

Cliff and I had talked about getting Secret a friend for months before we made the move; she was so lonely that she'd almost knock me down trying to play, when I went out to feed her.

Trouble is, Cliff doesn't like to go to sale barns.  Or drive very far, unless he's on the motorcycle.

So I mentioned on Homesteading Today cattle message board that I wanted something cheap, preferably a Jersey bull calf, as a buddy for my heifer.  The only response I got was from a man who said he had a couple of Irish Dexter bull calves he'd sell.  A bird in the hand, you know, is worth two in the bush.

Miniature cattle of any kind are not my preference (nor miniature goats, horses, or pigs), but Meatloaf is serving his purpose well.  I'm sure the beef we get from him will be tasty when he's butchered, even if there isn't much of it. 

As I understand it, the breed was almost extinct until it was rediscovered by hobby farmers with just a few acres.  I'm sure people think they are cute, being so small.  I can tell you that Meatloaf is quite good-natured, considering he wasn't raised as a pet.  The man from whom we bought him has a lovely little herd of dun (reddish) Dexters.

Here's some information I gleaned on the Internet:

"According to the standards adopted by the American Dexter Cattle Association, the ideal three year old Dexter bull measures 38 to 44 inches at the shoulder and weighs less than 1000 pounds. The ideal three year old Dexter cow measures between 36 to 42 inches at the shoulder, and weighs less than 750 pounds. There are two varieties of Dexters, short legged and long legged or Kerry type. Milk and beef production and other characteristics are generally the same for both types. The same dam and sire may produce a short legged calf in one mating and a long legged calf the next."

I'd say Meatloaf is the short-legged variety.

To read more, click HERE for the entire article.

A friend of Cliff's recently purchased a small herd of Highland cattle, another miniature breed. 

Secret is growing

This is just to show you how big Secret is getting.  She's almost up to my waist!  As for Meatloaf... well, he's a miniature breed, so he doesn't grow very fast. 

Here's what Secret looked like when I first met her, February 18.  The freeze damage hadn't yet shown up on her ears and tail at that time.  She was about a week old in this picture.

I don't think Cliff would want to try and carry her today.

Now playing: Bill Withers - Lean On Me (1)
via FoxyTunes   


Political Science for Dummies

I've seen this in various forms before, but it never fails to crack me up.

Now playing: John Prine - Down by the Side of the Road
via FoxyTunes   

You have two cows.
Your neighbor has none.
You feel guilty for being successful
Barbara Streisand sings for you.

You have two cows.
Your neighbor has none.

You have two cows.
The government takes one and gives it to your neighbor.
You form a cooperative to tell him how to manage his cow.

You have two cows.
The government seizes both and provides you with milk.
You wait in line for hours to get it.
It is expensive and sour.

You have two cows.
You sell one, buy a bull, and build a herd of cows.

You have two cows.
Under the new farm program the government pays you to shoot one, milk
the other, and then pours the milk down the drain.

You have two cows.
You sell one, lease it back to yourself and do an IPO on the 2nd one.
You force the two cows to produce the milk of four cows. You are
surprised when one cow drops dead. You spin an announcement to the
analysts stating you have downsized and are reducing expenses.
Your stock goes up.

You have two cows.
You go on strike because you want three cows.
You go to lunch and drink wine.
Life is good.

You have two cows.
You redesign them so they are one-tenth the size of an ordinary cow
and produce twenty times the milk
They learn to travel on unbelievably crowded trains.
Most are at the top of their class at cow school.

You have two cows.
You engineer them so they are all blond, drink lots of beer, give
excellent quality milk, and run a hundred miles an hour.
Unfortunately they also demand 13 weeks of vacation per year.

You have two cows but you don't know where they are.
While rambling around, you see a beautiful woman.
You break for lunch.
Life is good.

You have two cows.
You have some vodka.
You count them and learn you have five cows.
You have some more vodka.
You count them again and learn you have 42 cows.
The Mafia shows up and takes over however many cows you really have.

You have all the cows in Afghanistan , which are two.
You don't milk them because you cannot touch any creature's private parts.
You get a $40 million grant from the US government to find
alternatives to milk production but use the money to buy weapons.

You have two cows.
They go into hiding.
They send radio tapes of their mooing.

You have two bulls.
Employees are regularly maimed and killed attempting to milk them.

You have one cow.
The cow is schizophrenic.
Sometimes the cow thinks he's French, other times he's Flemish.
The Flemish cow won't share with the French cow.
The French cow wants control of the Flemish cow's milk.
The cow asks permission to be cut in half.
The cow dies happy.

You have a black cow and a brown cow.
Everyone votes for the best looking one.
Some of the people who actually like the brown one best accidentally
vote for the b lack one.
Some people vote for both.
Some people vote for neither.
Some people can't figure out how to vote at all.
Finally, a bunch of guys from out-of-state tell you which one you
think is the best-looking cow.

You have millions of cows.
They make real California cheese.
Only five speak English.
Most are illegals.
Arnold likes the ones with the big udders.

Wednesday, September 19, 2007

Mighty peculiar

I recently mentioned to Cliff that I needed to call the cardiologist group and set up his yearly appointment for December.  Even though our family doctor sees Cliff at least once every three months, the heart guy is supposed to keep tabs on him too.

So the other day we received a letter that started with "Dear Clifford...".

Then this:

"We are reminding you that it is time for your FOLLOW-UP VISIT."

Oh good.  They send reminders.  With my track record, that can be very helpful.

There was a phone number to call.  At the bottom of the letter were eight doctors' names.  Cliff's doctor wasn't among them, and I assumed he'd moved on.

As I was dialing the number, I realized, by the area code, that this was a Kansas number.  Hmmm.  Maybe they have somebody else in a different office doing the scheduling.

A lady answered, and I told her I needed to set up an appointment.  Before she could get to the task, though, I saw the address given for these doctors on the letterhead:  Shawnee Mission, Kansas.

"Ma'am," I said, telling her what I'd just noticed, "my husband has never been to a doctor in Kansas."

"Is his birthday 06/16/19__?"


"We have him as a patient in our system.  His last visit was in 2001."

"But my husband's heart problem wasn't diagnosed until 2006.  And I assure you, Shawnee Mission is so far from us, there's no way we'd forget being there."

The lady agreed it was strange, and couldn't imagine what had caused the confusion.  I thanked her for her time, and told her I was going to call Cliff's real cardiologist group, in Independence, Missouri, to set up his appointment.

When the lady in that office answered, I said, "Is it too early to set up a follow-up appointment for my husband in December?"

"No, it isn't," she said pleasantly.  She asked his name and birth-date, then said  "Did we send you a letter to remind you?"

"Well," I answered, "Somebody did.  But it was from a group in Shawnee Mission, Kansas, where he's never been a patient."

I explained to her how they had Cliff in their system... address, birth date and all... even though he'd never been there.

She was as baffled as I.

So Cliff got his reminder letter at the proper time, but from the wrong doctors (doctors  he's never heard of).

I'll be scratching my head over this for a long time.

Have I ever mentioned how uncomfortable it makes me when doctors get their wires crossed?

Tuesday, September 18, 2007

Somebody's stalking me!

Over at my Blogger journal, I have Sitemeter installed.  It's free, and gives me some idea of how long my readers stay at my blog, how many pages they read, and (sometimes) their approximate location.  It's almost addictive, checking Sitemeter and seeing who's reading me.

So lately, I noticed somebody from Topeka, Kansas, on Sprint DSL, was spending an unnatural amount of time on my blog.  At first it was flattering; then I started to worry.  Because this person was literally spending HOURS on my blog every day.  Hmmm.

Checking their outclicks and such, it finally hit me today.  Good old Sprint DSL has re-assigned little old me to Topeka, Kansas.

That's right.  My stalker was me.

I don't know whether I'm disappointed or relieved.

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Monday Photo Shoot: Personally Obsolete

From John Scalzi:

"Your Monday Photo Shoot: Take a picture of something in your house you used to use a lot, but now hardly use at all. This could be a piece of obsolete technology, or possibly some equipment for a hobby you no longer pursue, or just something you stopped fiddling with for no good reason at all -- the basic idea is simply to highlight something that no longer has that much use for you, for whatever reason." 

(A quick comment from me:  I'm glad Cliff isn't doing this Monday Photo Shoot; I can hear him now.  Enough said.)

I took a picture of a group of related items that I haven't needed for several years now.

There you have a milk strainer sitting atop a gallon jug; a milk bucket; and a butter churn.  For about twenty-five years, I milked cows twice a day and had a use for all these items.  For over a dozen years, they've been idle.  But perhaps not forever.

My Jersey heifer, Secret, is waiting in the wings.  In about 18 months, if all goes well and we find her a boy friend, I'll be using those items again. 

If you have something around the house you no longer use, why not snap a picture of it and join in on the Monday Photo Shoot?

Be sure and leave a link to your entry at By The Way.

Sunday, September 16, 2007

Bing Crosby and my sister and the good old days

Quite some time ago, I was telling my sister how much I remember about the house where she and her husband, Russell, lived, in New Market, Iowa, around 1950.  I remember the little china tea set she let me play with (if I was very, very careful).  And how much I loved to play with my baby nephew, Larry, who would giggle at the least excuse.

And I so well recall the fancy radio with a record-player in a drawer in the bottom of it.  There were Bing Crosby records that I was allowed to listen to, at the age of six or so.

Maxine and I discussed the Bing Crosby song, "Dear Hearts and Gentle People", this year; how it was among the songs I heard at her house as a child.  At some sort of school program, I told her, me and some other kids peddled our bicycles around in a circle while that song played, and the parents watched.

I told her I could download that song online, which I did.  And next time she was here, I played it for her and told her I could put it on a CD for her.

Recently, she asked if I had made that CD.  I had forgotten about it, but told her I'd get right to it.

Now, you'd have to meet her to know, but Cliff and I will both tell you that my sister is the closest-to-perfect person we have ever seen walking this earth.  And as a sister, she is 100% perfect.  Trust me on that.

So I went to and found I could get a CD of several of Bing Crosby's most popular songs for a bargain price.  And I ordered one for my sister.

Of course I copied all the songs to my computer before I gave the CD to her.

Except for "White Christmas", and perhaps "Dear Hearts and Gentle People", I'm not really a Bing fan.  I'm way too young for that.

But I'm listening to all those songs right now, and finding pleasure in the fact that my lovely sister will be hearing them at her house from time to time.

And I think perhaps I am a Bing Crosby fan after all.

I love those dear hearts and gentle people
Who live in my home town
Because those dear hearts and gentle people
Will never ever let you down

They read the good book
From Fri till Monday
That's how the weekend goes
I've got a dream house
I'll build there one day
With picket fence and ramblin' rose

I feel so welcome each time I return
That my happy heart keeps laughin' like a clown
I love the dear hearts and gentle people
Who live and love in my home town

There's a place I'd like to go
And it's back in Idaho
Where you're friendly neighbors smile and say hello
It's a pleasure and a treat
To meandor down the street
That's why I want the whole wide world to know
(I love those dear hearts)
I love the gentle people
(Who live in my home town)
Because those dear hearts and gentle people
Will never ever let you down

They read the good book
From Fri till Monday
That's how the weekend goes
I've got a dream house
I'll build there one day
With picket fence and ramblin' rose

I feel so welcome each time that I return
That my happy heart keeps laughin' like a clown
I love the dear hearts and gentle people
Who live and love in my home town

(Home, home, sweet home)
(Home, home, sweet home)
(Home, home, sweet home)
(Home, home, sweet home)

interesting little episode

First of all, let me advise you to never stop at a grocery store with which you're not familiar, just to save time because it's "right on your way".

That's what we did after the funeral yesterday.  From the outside, it was huge, so you'd figure they had any brand of grocery item you might want; it was also a Price-Chopper; I have a Chopper-Shopper card.  I figured I'd go in, get my six items, and we'd be on our way.

They didn't have two of my items..  And of course, we wandered all over this huge store, back and forth, to get the items they did stock.

Sugar-free Jello was one of the things we actually found (Cliff's favorite heart-healthy dessert), and as the tall, swarthy clerk scanned our items, he held up a box of the Jello and said with a smile, "What's actually in this stuff, do you know?"

"Well," I said, "unless they've found a different way to make gelatin these days, it's made from cow's hooves."

His smile totally faded, and he said, "... and pig's hooves?"

I immediately realized why he was interested in knowing.  Although he had a mere trace of an accent, he was from a middle-eastern country.  Muslims don't eat pork.  I glanced at his name tag, which confirmed that he was indeed from such a country; I think the name was Adir.

Cliff and I replied, almost in unison, "No, just cows' hooves."

Of course, I couldn't help wondering if we were steering him wrong.

But he said, "I'm glad I stopped eating that!" 

In the car, I looked at a box of Jello and noticed a "K" on the front.  I said to Cliff, "Doesn't that "K" mean kosher?  Because if it does, it can't have any part of a swine in it.  Jewish people don't eat pork either, so acceptable foods have the "K".  I wish I had thought of that, so the guy could eat his jello with no concerns."

Cliff didn't know.  He didn't even know, until I told him, that Muslims don't eat pork.

So yesterday evening, I googled a couple of things:  This is why I love the Internet, because if you have questions about your facts, the answers are usually right at your fingertips.

For the information about Jello, click HERE.  The article does say "cow and pig bones".

However, Jello brand evidently contains cow hooves and bones only,or it wouldn't have the "K" for Kosher, right?  For an article I found explaining the symbols used for such products, click HERE.  Upon more googling, though, I found that, to Jewish folks, a plain "K" isn't very reliable; the letter K inside a diamond is.

Yes, I love the Internet.  Now if I run into another Muslim, I can steer him in the right direction.  Like that's going to happen out here in the boonies! 

Still, it's nice to have the right information inside my brain.  Of course, at my age, the problem would be remembering the information.

Saturday, September 15, 2007

Rest in peace

I attended the funeral of a cousin, Cecil Wayne, today.  I can't say I knew much about him or ever really knew him well.  I graduated with his sister, and she's the one I know best in their family (the 1944 baby girl on the left mentioned in THIS ENTRY, and the third from the right in the picture in THIS ENTRY.

But when I got the call that Cecil had a heart attack and had passed on after a couple of weeks on life support, I searched my soul for memories of him.

He was the only boy in the family, with two sisters older, and two younger.  As a kid, I always got the feeling that those girls really loved and doted on their only brother.  I can't say how I got that impression, it was just there.

The other thing I recall is that my daddy, who loved boxing with a passion, was extremely proud to have a nephew in Golden Gloves, and he told anyone who would listen about his brother's boy.

In all my mom's picture albums, I don't think I've seen any pictures of Cecil Wayne.  So today at the funeral home, I took some digital shots of photos they had on display.

That's Cecil with two of his sisters.

This is the Cecil Wayne of my childhood; this is the face I recall best.

And the next pictures are the Cecil Wayne that my dad was so proud of.

Death has taken other cousins, but this is the first one to die of what I'd call an age-related problem.

My generation's march toward the grave has begun.  But of course, it started the day we were born.  We just didn't know it until recently.

Foggy River Bottom

On these cool, autumn-like mornings when the temperature of the Missouri River is warmer than the air, there's a delightful ground fog on the river bottoms.

I have to be fairly quick at taking the pictures, because once the sun gets up in the sky a little way, the fog is gone.

It amazes me that I can ride in the same area two or three times a week, and yet this place offers a wide variety of ever-changing scenes.

Blue gives me "the look" when I make him stop while I take pictures.  Isn't he sweet?  No wonder I kiss his face all the time.

Blue's bridle came with him; his previous owner said, "This is his bridle; use it on him."

I was just glad to have a bridle, but I've never figured out why the guy seemed to think no other bridle would work.  I've tried others just to see, and the only thing I've noticed is that Blue has to have those round rubber thingies you see at the corner of his mouth.  Because otherwise he graps the shank of the bit with his teeth all the time.

I tried this entry earlier, but AOL was giving me a fit.  Hope this one saves.

Friday, September 14, 2007

Life's Railway

My mom and daddy used to sing this song, back in the farthest recesses of my memory.

1. Life is like a mountain railway,
With an engineer that's brave;
We must make the run successful,
From the cradle to the grave;
Watch the curves, the fills, the tunnels;
Never falter, never quail;
Keep your hands upon the throttle,
And your eyes upon the rail.

Blessed Savior, Thou wilt guide us,
Till we reach that blissful shore,
When the Angels wait to join us
In Thy praise for evermore.

2. You will roll up grades of trial;
You will cross the bridge of strife;
See that Christ is your conductor
On this lightning train of life;
Always mindful of obstruction,
Do your duty, never fail;
Keep your hands upon the throttle,
And your eyes upon the rail.

3. You will often find obstructions,
Look for storms and wind and rain;
On a fill, or curve, or trestle
They will almost ditch your train;
Put your trust alone in Jesus,
Never falter, never fail;
Keep your hands upon the throttle,
And your eyes upon the rail.

4. As you roll across the trestle,
Spanning Jordan's swelling tide,
You behold the Union Depot
Into which your train will glide;
There you'll meet the Superintendent,
God, the Father, God the Son,
With the hearty, joyous plaudit,
"Weary Pilgrim, welcome home."

Johnny Cash and the Carters did the song justice.

My horse tells me it's autumn

I've ridden my horse, Blue, at least five times in the last week.  And every time, he's made it clear that fall is here.

How does he tell you, you ask?

My dead-headed, lazy-bones, dependable horse is suddenly looking for spooks everywhere.  He's developed a fear of school buses.  Or I'll be riding along in the river bottoms and Blue will suddenly jump sideways, and I don't see a thing that could have made him jump. 

All the horses out in the pasture are likely to take off running and bucking for no apparent reason.

Because that's how horses act in the fall. 

No matter what the calender says, autumn officially started about a week ago.  Today, the temperature actually agrees with the horses' ideas.  Soup and stew weather.

So I made hamburger stew.

I was working in the packing house at the apple orchard, years ago, alongside a woman named Ruth-Ann.  She mentioned, in her southern-drawl manner, that she'd made hamburger stew for supper the previous evening, and I said, "What?  You had what?"

"Hamburger stew; haven't you ever made that?"

I told her I hadn't, so she brought some to work in a thermos the next day. 

It's a tasty way to stretch a pound of hamburger so it'll feed a family, and I've been making it ever since.

She told me the ingredients she used, and I can almost recall the conversation verbatim:  "You brown some hamburger and onions.  Add water and put in your carrots.  Let them cook awhile, then add the potatoes and barley."  (I'd never used barley for anything, up to then).   "Not too much barley, or it'll give the stew a sorta slickish feel."

I've found I can add all the barley I want with no problem, though.

"Then you add some chopped cabbage," she went on.  "I can't use too much, because the kids don't like cabbage."

"Do you put tomatoes in it?"


Well, over the years I've added a little cumin, cayenne pepper, and garlic; and I've even used tomatoes on occasion.  I did today, since I have tomatoes in the garden going to waste; why not take advantage of free vitamins?  I'm also making use of potatoes and onions that my green-thumb husband raised this yearin his first attempt at a garden.  I got in the habit, a long time ago, of putting the skinned tomatoes through the food processor, because there are so many young people who think it's horrid if they find a chunk of tomato in their stew or chili.

In order to use the rest of my thawed hamburger, and also to make utilize more free tomatoes and onions before they all spoil, I also made chili.

I sure wish it was lunch-time.

Speedtrap Exchange

Jo, a longtime Internet friend of mine, sent me this link.  I don't even drive, so it's of no use to me.  But Cliff might be interested.   And I'm sure a certain pesky brother-in-law of mine who now lives in St. Louis can use the information it provides.

Just click on:  Speedtrap exchange.

You can even submit speedtrap locations to the site yourself, or comment on the ones that are already there.

Thursday, September 13, 2007

Who's reading me?

Over at Blogger, I have a sitemeter that tells (more or less) where my readers live, and what directs them to my blog.  Not that the location of the readers is accurate, because it lists my daughter as living in Grandview, Missouri.

Still... it's close.

I love seeing that someone in Canada is a regular reader, both of this journal and also of my Blogger site.

Somebody in Topeka spends a lot of time reading my drivel, too.

But now it's getting close to home:  Kearney, Missouri, and Cameron, Missouri.  Wow, I wonder who lives in those towns that follows my escapades.  Could be a relative!

Reveal yourselves, folks.  Do I know you?

Wednesday, September 12, 2007

About the grandson

The grandson did find his lost wallet... in his pickup, under his morning glass of iced tea.  He did check in with his insurance agency, and received a check to cover damages to his pickup.

He made it to the temp agency today, to put in an application for a new job.

Wish him luck.

And pray for his grandma, because 90% of the time the boy is an angel... but the other 10% is what drives Grandma crazy!


On the road again!

FINALLY we got to go for a decent little ride on our classic Gold Wing.  We wore our leathers, since it was about sixty degrees when we started.  Did we have a destination?  You bet!

We went to a motorcycle junk yard on 50 highway.  Cliff was in search of an affordable driver backrest for our bike, since new ones cost $250 and up.

As luck would have it, there was one available!  The right year and all.

The cost?  $47.50 with tax.  I'm pretty sure if it doesn't work out (we're not sure if there's room for it, with me riding along all the time) that we can get our money back on Ebay or Craigslist.

We were glad to see such a well-equipped motorcycle junk yard; when you own a "classic" (in other words, old as the hills) Gold Wing, you don't want to have to buy new parts for it; you'd soon have a fortune tied up in something that just isn't worth that much.

We both agree the ride on this oldie is as smooth as on our 1500.  Obviously it doesn't have as much power (1100 cc's instead of 1500).  Cliff is plenty comfy on it; I don't have the easy-chair comfort I did before, but it isn't a bad ride.

The ride home was lovely, and we're both glad to have a motorcycle at our disposal again.

I'll try this again

For some reason, the link I put here did not go directly to a video like I wanted.  Then I tried it on IE (I use Firefox most of the time) and it worked.  I do hope you can watch this baby.  If not, click around on the website that comes up and you'll still be able to see some videos.

Click HERE.

Tuesday, September 11, 2007

I liked this

Yes, they are selling something with this video.  But it still has a beautiful message. 

Click HERE.

My son's 9/11 opinion

I've read people's 9/11 entries all day long; I posted my own, over at blogger.

But my son, who served time in Iraq the first time, managed to put my feelings right in there with his own.

This mamma didn't raise no fools.

How pathetic is it that I'm thinking about voting for a TV star from Law and Order in the upcoming election?


Monday Photo Shoot: Get mugged

It's been awhile since I participated in John Scalzi's photo shoot, but this one was so quick and easy, I couldn't resist.  This from John:

"Your Monday Photo Shoot: Take a picture of one or more interesting coffee mugs you might have. Because it's my experience that people have coffee mugs with interesting stories behind them. At least, I do."

Well, I tend to buy coffee mugs as souvenirs, so I grabbed a few to give you a sample.

That first one, I bought in Kansas at a dinky little out-of-the-way place where Cliff and I had the best steak ever.

The second, another eatery, this one in Jamesport, Missouri, which has a nearby Amish settlement.

The third is from a tractor show we've been to, this one featuring Allis Chalmers tractors.  (I have quite a few tractor-show cups.)

And the last is one of a set of John Deere mugs I got Cliff for Christmas one year.

I do love my mugs.

If you play along, be sure and leave the link to your entry over at John's place.

When do boys grow up?

I was already a little disappointed in the grandson, as I blogged about in my other journal.  He lost a license plate Saturday night and is still driving nonchalantly to work in the city as though it didn't matter.

This morning he couldn't find his wallet.  This is the same wallet he's washed twice with his laundry since he's been staying here. 

He didn't go anyplace after he got home from work last night.  We tore the couch apart.  He went upstairs to his bedroom, checked out pockets of the jeans he was wearing yesterday, and looked all over the bed, under it, and so forth.  No wallet.  Obviously he lost it someplace yesterday before getting home.

So if he gets stopped by a cop for not having a license plate, he has no driver's license to show.

It's things like this that make me wonder if the grandson should find someplace else to hang his hat.  Because if he weren't here, I wouldn't know about things like this.  And I wouldn't worry.

bad timing

We brought the 1100 Gold Wing home Saturday; Sunday Cliff went for two five-minute rides (one with me on board, one alone), just to see what she felt like.  But we had no insurance or license, so he couldn't really go far.

Yesterday we went to see our insurance man, fifteen miles to the south, and got that taken care of.   Then we drove back past our house and went to Lexington, to the east, to get license.  Going inside, we were confronted by a line that reached all the way to the door.  We hadn't realized that driver's tests are done on Monday and Friday.  Poor timing. 

"Let's go next door to the Mexican place and eat," Cliff said.   "Maybe the crowd won't be so bad when we come back."

So we split a quesadilla fajita meal between us.  The crowd was no smaller when we returned.  We waited in line for at least forty-five minutes, finally got things taken care of, and returned home at 1 P.M.  Cliff leaves for work at 2:30, and he needs a little quiet time and rest before he leaves.  So we didn't get to ride. 

Today there's Cliff's health fair at work:  because he has to be fasting for the blood tests, and they don't want to make him starve all day, they let him get to work at ten, have his blood drawn, and then feed him breakfast.  He'll put in his eight hours and leave at 6:30, arriving home at 7:30 this evening: so again, no ride.

But tomorrow, the forecast promises sunny skies and a high of 75 degrees.  Finally, we should be able to hit the road legally and get the feel of our "new" old bike.

Meanwhile, I do have a horse. 

Monday, September 10, 2007

Look what I bought on Ebay yesterday

I couldn't help myself.  I simply had to get this little "sip of yesterday's wine".  Cliff told me not to pay as much as I did, but I think he's glad I went ahead and got it.


This is a 1982 owners manual for a Honda Aspencade GL1100 Goldwing motorcycle. It has a leather (or it is a very nice leatherette) cover. There are 100 pages...none are torn or missing. Some do have writing on them...see photos plus the owners name on the anti-theft page, some writing in the maintenance record and the back cover has several names & addresses on it which is probably previous owners. Other than the writing in the book, it is in excellent vintage condition. Measures 6" by 4.25"

Sunday, September 9, 2007

A report on our "new" motorcycle

We couldn't go for a real ride this weekend because we don't have insurance or license on this bike.  Cliff took a couple of short test-rides, and he and I went for a ten-minute ride together, just to see what she felt like.

It's totally different than the 1996 Gold Wing we sold.  We knew it would be.  The seat isn't as comfortable; it's a noisier ride.  Cliff says it handles completely different... more like a real motorcycle, whereas our other one seemed like a two-wheeled car.

But we like it.  Both of us have this silly mind-set that says it's fascinating to try and make something old run like  new.

Cliff has been all over this Gold Wing with a fine-tooth comb.  There's no rust underneath, which, we were told, could be dangerous. 

I won't go into detail about our latest plans.  If everything pans out for next weekend, things could get interesting.  And of course I'll share the details, with pictures.

That's your motorcycle update for now. 

Any suggestions on what to name a maroon, 1982 Honda Gold Wing?

Cliff and I have come up with "Ruby" and "Rosie".  And I think we're going to have "Yesterday's Wine" etched on the windshield, since that was a country hit in 1982... the year this motorcycle was built.  Just imagine Cliff and me saying these words to our old classic Gold Wing:

Miracles appear in the strangest of places:
Fancy me finding you here.
The last time I saw you was just out of Houston.
Let me sit down, let me buy you a beer.

Your presence is welcome with me and my friend here;
This is a hangout of mine.
We come here quite often and listen to music
And to taste yesterday's wine.

Yesterday's wine, yesterday's wine:
Aging with time, like yesterday's wine.
Yesterday's wine, yesterday's wine
We're aging with time, like yesterday's wine

You give the appearance of one widely traveled
Lord I'll bet you've seen things in your time

Come sit down here with us and tell us your story
If its true you'll like yesterday's wine.

Yesterday's wine, yesterday's wine
Aging with time, like yesterday's wine.
Yesterday's wine, yesterday's wine
We're aging with time, like yesterday's wine

If we get enough suggestions for names, I'll have a poll and you can vote on the name.  But of course, Cliff and I will do what we want to do.

Saturday, September 8, 2007

Scenes from a tractor show

Since we were in the area, Cliff and I stopped by the Missouri River Valley Association tractor show at Boonville, Missouri.  Here are a few scenes caught on digital camera.

And the winner is.....

We bought the oldest, cheapest Gold Wing.  It's been cared for well enough so that Cliff won't be ashamed of how it looks.  There is the risk, of course, that goes with anything that old.  But, nothing ventured, nothing gained.

We didn't need any more bills.

My readers will get to follow this adventure and see if our choice was wrong or right.

In the background, you see Meatloaf trying to impregnate Secret.  He doesn't have the equipment to do that, but he enjoys trying.  If there were a female cow with her, the behavior would be the same:  When a heifer or cow is in heat, all her buddies "ride" her.  This lasts for 24 to 48 hours, every three weeks.

The polls are still open

I'm thoroughly enjoying the voting on my motorcycle poll.  When I awoke this morning, "No motorcycle at all" was in the lead.  However, I just checked and there had been another vote, which brought the cheapest option (next to not buying one at all) to the forefront.

Of course you realize Cliff and I will do whatever we're going to do.  But I've had a blast collecting your opinions!

And what do I think about the options mentioned in the poll? 

My heart is with Goldie, the immaculate Gold Wing in Lexington.  She's lovely.  Looks as good as the day she came out of the factory.  Has extras that I didn't even know Honda put on Gold Wings back then, like cruise control.  And Goldie is locally famous, so we'd be carrying on a legend.  She's, you know, a lady with a past.  The down side is that she hasn't been ridden much lately.  Sometimes, when a vehicle has been idle for too long and then suddenly starts getting some action, several things break down at once.  This happened with our old 1988 Ford pickup that the grandson was going to buy at one time; he started driving it, it tried its best to fall apart (I'll grant you the fact that 21-year-old guys aren't the gentlest road-testers).  Oh, and Goldie has the same tires on her as when Louie purchased her several years ago.  The cost of new tires for a motorcycle?  Over $400.

My brain says get the cheapest Gold Wing, which has been gone over with a fine-tooth comb and should be ready to ride.   Less money invested in something that's basically a toy.

The caring wife part of me says Cliff would be happier with the 1998 motorcycle his cousin is selling.

If you haven't voted, then please do HERE.  No fair voting twice, though!  The poll seems to be loading fine now.

Friday, September 7, 2007

A pre-funeral celebration?

I received a phone call yesterday evening from one of Cliff's cousins.  He was here in 2005, when we held a family reunion at our place.  In fact, he supplied the roast hog we all enjoyed.

Kenneth had bladder cancer a few years ago, and now the big C is back.  Doctors don't give him long to live.  So he's throwing a party.  A goat-roast, if you please.


It'll be held in a couple of weeks.  Kenneth was raised in a cabin in the woods, and he wants to die in one.  He also wants to have his going-away party at the cabin they're fixing up for him.  It should be ready two weeks from now.

I think I like this idea.

Ken told Cliff today, on the phone, that he doesn't mind dying:  he's had a lot of fun.  He does hate to leave his kids and grandkids, but he seems to be dealing with it.  Cliff told Kenneth about my cabin in the woods.

That's Kenneth and Cliff.  I think I'm going to enjoy this going-away party.

Oh yes, there WILL be pictures.  If any children or grandchildren want to accompany us, they're welcome.

About my poll

I realize lots of you couldn't get the poll to load, so you were unable to vote.   I get an error message about half the time, myself.

I may not have made clear the fact that all the motorcycles in the survey are Honda Gold Wings; that's the only kind old folks like us can ride in comfort.

So far, Goldie is ahead in the poll:  that's the 1986 model in Lexington that's in show-room condition.

I should point out that these machines hold their value remarkably well, as evidenced by the fact that we paid $8,500 for our 1996 GW, rode it for almost two years, and sold it for the same price.

Also, in case you wondered, a new one with no extras is around $18,000.  We won't be buying a new one.  We may not buy another motorcycle at all.  What we do plan to do is bring Cliff's cousin's 1998 model up here and see if we can sell it for him.  And we'll ride it until it sells (he told us to do that). 

When we go to the Ozarks to pick it up, we'll be driving by HERE and checking out the 1981 Gold Wing, offered for $2,895.

For the lady who suggested we get central air and a heat pump instead of a motorcycle:  First we'd have to put a whole new foundation under the house, rewire it, and do about a half-million dollars worth of restoring.  No thanks.  We plan to have different living quarters in a couple of years, one way or another.  If Cliff is still able to keep up with 43 acres, we'll build something here.  If he isn't, we'll sell this whole shebang and move.

changing providers

A couple weeks ago, I was having connection problems.  Since I have DSL, I called tech support.  The man had me try first one thing, then another, and finally decided to send the telephone man out.

He found several problems with the telephone lines, tinkered with them for an hour or so, and told me that should help.

It didn't.  So I called the techs again, and Embarq sent me a new modem.  Which never entirely fixed the problem, but at least I only lost connection once or twice a day.  Until yesterday evening, when I couldn't get online for over thirty seconds at a time.  Same thing this morning.

I called the tech line again, and got a nice lady this time.  She had me do all the stuff they always ask of me (check telephones for filters, reboot the modem, etc.).  She got over a dozen error messages while we were on the line together, and said there is definitely a problem with the lines.  She set me up with a the telephone repairman (again) for this afternoon. 

Since I couldn't access the Internet, I turned off my computer.  Came back in here, a few minutes ago, turned it on, and, lo and behold, I have Internet again... for now.

Tuesday I'm going back to cable Internet.  The heck with Embarq's package deal!  I'm sticking with my DishTV, though:  Cable TV reception, here in the boonies, is awful.

Tags: , ,

Thursday, September 6, 2007

Meet my new BFF (best friend forever)

She's my new maid, and she devours dog hair.  If I were a crafty type, I'd figure out how to crochet stuff out of all that hair, but as it is, I'll just toss it, rejoicing.

With a drought going on, no A/C, and living on a gravel road, plenty of dust settles into our furniture.  So I've already used the Dyson on the couch and recliners, as well as the floor.

The attachments and hose will take some getting used to, but that isn't a problem.  Once attached, those suckers work!

Finally, I can vacuum without feeling as though I'm wasting my time.  This is one of the best uses
I've found so far, for my social security money.

I have to try it too!

Celeste in Georgia noticed our new "add poll" button, here on AOL journals.  So I simply have to try it out.  Feel free to vote your feelings; I have no way of knowing who's playing along.

Am I the only one who finds this poll is slow to load?

Wednesday, September 5, 2007

a cooling trend

We're still dry as a desert, but at least it's cooled off.  And it's supposed to stay that way for awhile.

I took my first evening horseback ride in weeks, maybe even months.  With high temps in the 90's, I've been forced to ride at dawn this summer in order to beat the heat.

Not today.  There was a cloud cover and a nice breeze.  Blue and I enjoyed the evening, although I had forgotten how the traffic situation is at "rush hour".  Yes, even in the country there is a rush hour.

If the weather-guessers are right, the long hot summer is over.

Oh,  I taught Blue a new thing:  When I first got him almost four years ago, I tried to get him to approach the mailbox and allow me to reach down and collect the mail.  He freaked out then, and I hadn't bothered to try it again.

Since he's gotten so laid-back this year, I gave it another try.  Oh, he protested for awhile.  But finally he realized it wasn't worth the effort and let me get my mail.

The grandson applied for a new and better-paying job today.  I hope he gets it.  I'm proud of him for trying to better himself.

Cliff and I are still considering motorcycle options.

Oh, and I finally bought a 300 GB external hard drive for a hundred bucks and copied all my beloved pictures, documents and music onto it.  Next time I have a computer crash, I won't be crying (except for the $$$ it costs to buy a new computer).

Life is good.

Tuesday, September 4, 2007

Stuff from a message-board friend

In regard to my last two entries, I want to share the content of an email I received from a message-board friend:

" Explaining motorcycling to a non rider is almost impossible.  Is it the wind rushing past, the not dragging 2 tons of iron with you everywhere you go,the openness of visibility, the"dancing-like" rhythm of man and machine thru a section of winding roadway, the oneness of human and machine blending into something higher, that little bit of scariness and adrenaline brought on by knowing that potential danger exists? Hard to explain,but many hardcore bikers refer to other vehicles as"Cages" and no living thing likes being caged, preferring freedom overall, even with its inherent dangers.  Like an eagle must soar, or a wild horse runs, a biker "needs" to ride the wind.

And on a lighter note, a bit of frivolity that the same guy, posted on a forum... (redneck jokes I hadn't heard before).

You Might Be a Redneck If...
* Your standard of living improves when you go camping.
* Your prenuptial agreement mentions chickens.
* You have jacked up your home to look for a dog.
* Your neighbour has ever asked to borrow a quart of beer.
* There is a belch on your answering machine greeting.
* You have rebuilt a carburettor while sitting on the commode.
* None of the tires on your van are the same size.
* You hold the hood of the car with your head while you work on it.
* Your town put the new garbage truck in the Christmas parade.
* Your local beauty salon also fixes cars.
* Your doghouse and your living room have the same shag carpet.
* You've ever slow danced in the Waffle House.
* Starting your car involves popping the hood.
* Your garbage man is confused about what goes and what stays.
* You whistle at women in church.
* You actually wear shoes your dog brought home.
* You've been in a fist fight at a yard sale.
* You carry a fly swatter in the front seat of the car so you can reach the kids in the back seat.
* The three little words you say to your wife are GIMME A BEER.
* Your grandmother has ever been kicked out of Bingo Night because of her language.
* You win the lottery and buy a NEW doublewide to live in.
* You think a quarterback is a refund.
* You were born on a pool table

Thanks for the input and the smiles, Joe!

By way of explanation

Several have suggested Cliff and I should go on rides in the car, as though that would be the same as a motorcycle ride.  I did an entry HERE trying to explain why that won't work.

So where have I been?

I hardly ever go two or three days without posting an entry to my journal, unless we're on the road without a laptop.  The truth is, it was a quiet and rather boring weekend.  Unless I had wanted to tell you about picking lint out of my navel or some such thing. 

There was Cliff's family reunion on Saturday, but that was uneventful.

At the reunion, Cliff talked to his cousin who recently bought a Gold Wing he's unable to handle.  He wants to sell it.  It's two years newer than ours was, and is available for the same price we got for ours.

Cousin Darryl wants Cliff to bring the motorcycle here, near the big city, and see if we'll have better luck selling it than he's having in the Ozarks.  While it's here, Cliff is to ride it all he wants; it's licensed and insured.  Have I ever told you that white is Cliff's favorite color vehicle?  Dirt doesn't show up as badly, on white.

And then we spent some time window-shopping for motorcycles locally.

Yes, you read it right.

We miss the motorcycle.  That's part of the reason why our weekend was so lame.  A three-day weekend with no motorcycle ride is like cake without frosting.

Sunday we discussed the possibility of finding an older Gold Wing:  there'd be less money invested, although it's surprising how well the silly things hold their value.  We went to a nearby town and looked at a 1986 model for $4,000 that was listed on Craigslist.  The guy even let Cliff drive it, which most people won't do (with good reason).  It was a good old, low-mileage bike.  We left, telling him we'd think about it. 

The man called us yesterday to tell us he sold it. 

"I really wanted you and your husband to have it," he said.

Yesterday we went after apples at our favorite orchard (95% of the apple crop was destroyed by the late freeze this year).  Coming back past Lexington, I said to Cliff, "I wonder if that old guy still has Goldie?"

There's a guy in his 70's who has this showroom-new-looking Gold Wing that he occasionally puts out in the yard for sale.  We had looked  at it twice  before, but didn't remember the price, year, or mileage.

This fellow loves to talk about Goldie and show her off.  He always says, "If you buy her, you also get the trophies she's won."

She was tucked into the corner of his garage yesterday, but she started right up and purred like a kitten.

$5,000 dollars for this 1985 Special Edition with 46,000 miles on her.  You'd have to see it closeup and personal to appreciate what a jewel this is.

However, a bike that old, no matter how it looks, is a risk.   And it's been our experience that anytime you take a Gold Wing in for repair, it's going to cost at least $400. 

"I'd really like to see you guys get Goldie," the old fellow said.  "A guy can't help getting sentimental about something like this when he's had it awhile, and I know you'd take care of her."

So yesterday we spent our day moping in the living room, watching the CSI marathon and listening to motorcycles roar by on the scenic byway in front of our house.

Saturday, September 1, 2007

Pioneer Woman is back

I'm sure some of you, like me, practically fainted dead away when you couldn't access "Confessions of a Pioneer Woman" today.

She's been remodeling her site all day, and it was inaccessible. 

She's back, with a new look.  Click HERE.

Kids having fun at the lake

Cliff and I went to his family reunion (on his mom's side) today.  They always have a fish fry, and of course everyone brings a dish of something delicious.  The temperatures were comfortable in the shade, there was a nice breeze, and it was fun to watch the kiddies frolicking in the Lake of the Ozarks.