Betsy freakin Ross

Some time ago I got a USA flag afghan pattern to crochet. I decided to make one for my grandson in ID. Since I crochet by just diggin into the pattern, I was unaware how short it would come out when finished. So, after the first one came out too short for him, I decided to make a second one that would be longer. I measured it out, made the beginning chain and thought "this will be swell!".   Uh uh. no, not even. The dang thing turned out to be about 7 feet long! That was after all my careful measuring to make it 6 feet long. So I made 50 stars, sewed them on the first small afghan, made 50 more and sewed them on the huge afghan. Then I decided I needed to make a third one so I could send one to ID, and give Kris' boys each one. I looked up the first USA flag from 1776, and it had only 13 stars on it, in a circle on the blue field. (I was NOT about to make another 50 freakin stars! them things are a bitch to make.) So the 3rd flag afghan is a 1776 model.

The first photo shows the 2 afghans that went to Kris's boys.
Below shows the huge long one that went to Idaho.

The photo below shows what happened to the flag that went to my grandson in Idaho.  His sister took it!  LOL.

 I adore the Flag of the USA. And I respect it. If it bothers you that I made afghans like it, get your underwear out of a bundle and lighten up. Hopefully, those afghans will be used to keep some family members warm and cozy on a cold night.

It is good to have old friends

Yesterday my sis and I had a 5 hour lunch reunion with a friend from High School days that we had not seen nor heard from in over 35 years. Sis tracked her down, she responded, and we met up again. Fortunately another mutual friend was in town so the 4 of us reunited. It's funny the memories we shared; some were recalled by all, some were recalled by 2, some by only one; different events struck us all in different ways. What memory stayed with one person, left another person because it was not so significant at the time. It was fun to share our recollections and how the memories impacted us. We've all come through the years in decent shape although experiencing different trials. Once you're able to get senior discounts, it's just good to still be alive to enjoy them. Thanks, my friends, for a great day. And Thank You , Lord, for my friends!

grandson's graduation

Mike and I had a great trip to see Tim n Tara and family for Russell's graduation. (How did he grow up so fast??) Tara's folks were able to be there as well. It was a big event held in the Idaho Center arena. Russell turned 18 the same week, and I turned 18times3plus a few more. So we had a week of celebrations. We got to see Autumn perform in a band concert at the high school she will attend, and we went with Tara and Will to one of Will's OT sessions.
Here's the 3 siblings on grad day:


We are so proud of those kids, and of the way TnT are raising them to be good people. The Graduate chose to go back to California to look for a job and attend our local JC; he lives with his other grandparents for now.

It is always educational being around grandchildren. One said to me, "Gramma, can I see your phone?" "Sure" I sez. So she took my picture then says to me, "Did you know you have the 'funny face' feature on your phone's camera?" I told her I didn't know what that was. So she showed me....



Tis a feature that distorts the photo you take and makes someone look lovely. Thank you, Girlie! I shall show you no more mercy when we play canasta again. LOL.


William likes to wear a ballcap, so we brought him an "Air Force One" cap from the Ronald Reagan library. He wore it to school that week, and we're so proud of our Little Conservative (well, I can only dream).

All in all, it was a blessed visit and we are grateful that we could make the trip. It gets more and more tough for me to travel it seems as the months go on... so I owe TnT a big thanks for making us so comfortable in their home.
THANKS, KIDS!! Love you!!

It was sweet to get a few days' stay at a place on Pacific Beach, with a balcony with a great view of the ocean and a boardwalk with very entertaining folks strolling by.


It was sweet to be with my nutty-ass sister who makes me laugh all the time (probably because lookin at her is like lookin in the mirror).


It was sweet to have our good friend Michelene with us. She's a nurse who cannot hang up her cap in retirement because she will think like a nurse till the final minute, and compel compliance with all manner of things good-health-habit-wise, otherwise your sorry butt is out the door!!

And it was SO SWEEEEET to have them two clowns with me the morning we were to leave for home and I accidently flooded the bathroom with an overflowing toilet, then stood in the room screaming, "THE TOILET IS RUNNING OVER, THE TOILET IS RUNNING OVER!" instead of shutting off the water pipe. Hell... I never was any good in an emergency! That's why I travel with a nurse and a teacher!!!

Thanks, Gram!

So, awhile back my left middle finger swells up and will not bend and the knuckles are red and darn sore. So I make an appointment with my Dr. The doctor says as he is holding my left middle finger at a right angle to open the joint while the sports medicine doctor injects cortisone, "The surgeons do great work now replacing finger joints! You should get these fingers done. They are all crooked and I can see in these X-rays your knuckles are full of arthritis. That's why you have so much pain!"
The sports medicine doctor says, "Yah, you can be the bionic woman!"
I say, "wow. How can I ever thank my grandmother for this blessing of inherited worn- out- huge red knuckles?"
The doctors finish the injection then look at each other and say in unison, "Doctor! Doctor! Thank you, Doctor!"
They look at me and one ses, "You remember that ol' routine in that Mel Brooks movie?"
I sigh and say, "it would be a blast to work with you two clowns, but my fingers are killing me!"
The sports Dr takes a powder, my doctor says to come back in 2 weeks if the pain is still there.
I thank God that visit only cost me five bucks; have to laugh at the medical humor in spite of meself; in a few days I can again bend my left middle finger and can stop flipping everyone off (unintentionally).
But now the pain is back in several more knuckles, the middle finger wants to start flipping off again, and I am in a pickle. I'll force myself to keep working as long as possible, but if I promised to make you a crochet afghan I may have to just send you the balls of yarn and the crochet hook with directions so you can make it yerself. sorry.

OK, Joan. I will change the photo that you see when you go to my blog. This one's for you and by you... and because of YOU!! A photo taken yesterday by you... of me... on a beautiful clear but breezy day up at the Reagan Library. How come you waited till the wind blew my wig over to one side before you took the photo? I look like a dork. And Kristy will see it and think i don't care about my haircut. Oh dear. another fine mess you've gotten me in to now. But the coffee was good and the piece of pie for the pie hole was delicious. Thanks! let's go another day when it is clear but not breezy, and we can play canasta on the patio while trying to guess what language the visitors all around us are speaking. Deal?? Deal!

goin up to the spirit in the sky

Time to wrap up the saga of little brother. A sad, self-inflicted ending to a sad life, wasted in foggy self-administered (natural and man-made) drug coma, allowed because of denial of spiritual being, inability to seek other paths that may have brought self-esteem and perseverance, and a brilliant ability to attribute blame for one's situation onto anyone other than self. He'd cry out to God "if you're there" in his writings but never could get God to do the magic things immediately that were sought, thus cementing unbelief... like a child who doesn't get what he wants right away... throw a tantrum and walk away saying the hell with you.
He apparently thought he had at different times, two common-law wives, both of whom apparently OD'd and died leaving him in grief to muddle about and never relate substance abuse to possible death in others... but often hoping his own intake would result in the same outcome for him... which it never did... thus the chosen ending using a weapon of brain destruction that couldn't be remedied.
The hobby seemed to be to crap on "the man" whenever one could get away with it; beg, borrow (never paying back), or steal. No big deal if you had more that he had at the time because why would you miss what he needed when you seemed to have so much?
Classic portrayal of outward/inner man not matching; what you saw was not what you got if you wanted to get close to him. For no one could get close even a mother who thought he took such good care of her.
One man's reality, another man's fantasy.
Some day I may know how it truly finished as he went to meet the Spirit in the sky, however there will be no sorrow or grief for me because it is finished and I believe.
Don't waste your sorrows on him, me or anyone else but yourself until you can be certain of the One Who offers you salvation through The Cross: Jesus Christ Himself. A shroud has no pockets. At the final millisecond of your life here upon the earth, what else will TRULY matter?