People will make a party out of anything — we love to celebrate.

The eclipse turned into the gathering of the century all across the nation as crowds gathered in fields, at lakes, poolside, and anywhere else they could find a place to hangout. It was kind of like at a NASCAR race with all the merry-making – I think the people were nicer though. I love a good race, but it can really get competitive. Even the people rooting for the same driver can end up in a knock-down-drag-out over something like their favorite beer. I didn’t see anybody fighting over the eclipse. Some even shared their glasses with those who arrived unadorned.

I decided to watch the online NASA coverage. I figured it would be like having the best seat at my favorite concert. The eclipse was broadcast from many different locations through the best cameras — the crowds were going wild in Hopkinsville and Charleston. I went back and forth from watching NASA’s coverage to looking out the window at the sky getting darker. Afterward, NASA guys interviewed the International Space Station crew.

The frenzy built as the Doublewide husband called to report on the neat shadows the eclipse was making through the leaves in our driveway.  Everybody at work went outside to see it live and in person in the totality phase.

I didn’t get my viewing box made and I never looked for glasses to buy, but my experience wasn’t diminished. No matter how you viewed the eclipse, it was pretty neat just being here on planet earth during the whole thing.

It makes you stand  in awe at the greatness of God. He orchestrates the events of time and space, and is still interested in our lives. That’s downright amazing.

Of Eclipses and Men

Online Transformations Made Easy

I found out that I’m pretty smart after all. I knew it all along, but Facebook officially confirmed it. (hee hee)

I scored 150 on one of those fb IQ quizzes. Yeah, I couldn’t believe it either. You can’t argue with that kind of logic.

How could it not be true? It was on the internet. It was on facebook, right there with all the other interesting facts and figures.

I also look just like Shania Twain – got that revelation from Facebook too. I’m gorgeous, with a tall order of IQ. Hoop de doo!

You, too, can find out which country singer you look like (no need to send in $19.95). Just put your favorite selfie into a magic box and, voila, your pic is morphed with a famous person’s highly glossed and airbrushed portrait, revealing that you look just like them.

One friend refused to play along, for fear she’d end up as Willie Nelson.

A few minutes spent playing in Facebookland and you could completely transform yourself. No need for plastic surgery and botox!  It’s all right at your fingertips.

There are all kinds of little quizzes that tell you how Southern you are, what state you should live in, or what your favorite color says about you. I like red, so that makes me  adventurous and sophisticated, yet demure. I think that’s what it said, anyway. Don’t forget, I’m smart — very smart.

So we’re all somehow prettier, smarter and easier to access with the internet at our disposal. I’m just wondering how our ancestors made it through.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

How to Stay Out of Jail

It’s funny, the weird topics you discuss with friends sometimes. Just the other day some friends at work and I were talking about why we wouldn’t ever want to do anything that would send us to jail. I don’t even remember now how we started down that road…

The thing that made the top of our list was having to look at the same four walls (or three walls and a barred door) every day. Second – and this really should be in the top spot — no bathroom privacy… That alone should be enough to cause all the jails to have to close down for lack of interest.

Don’t people think about things like that before they commit crimes? It’s not worth it. Well, that and the fact that crime hurts other people. Is stealing that car really worth having to share a tiny cell with Jocko, your new prison pal?? I guess the thrill of the steal is exhilarating enough to blind people from thinking about it — at least for a little while. They could get the same feeling riding a roller coaster at Dollywood – and get to go home at the end of the day.

That’s not the only reason to avoid the slammer.

Two words — jail food. I’ve never experienced jail food, but I imagine it’s not the greatest. You can forget trying out all those wonderful Pinterest recipes for bon bons and cheesy bread at your next party. There won’t be any parties. There again, another reason to reconsider doing something that would make you go to jail. Jail is no fun – no matter what you’ve heard, They take away your shoe laces, too.

So, our consensus was to steer clear of jail and live happy, healthy lives. Hopefully more people will decide to join us and we’ll start a big “stay out of jail” movement. Communities will be better, the country will benefit as a whole and we’ll all get to keep out shoelaces.

 

 

Motorcycles can be fun — or scary — depending on how you look at it.

Mostly scary, according to a lot of people and my mother…. every time she finds out we’re riding, she announces that she’s going to take out extra life insurance on us.

I don’t know what good that would do us, but she’s determined that somehow it would help.

I was a little apprehensive when I first decided to climb on the back of the doublewide husband’s motorcycle (does that make it the doublewide motorcycle?). It took some getting used to. I felt like I was sliding off the thing every time we went down a hill – or down our own driveway. I stopped counting how many times my helmet banged into the back of his helmet when he stopped and I wasn’t expecting it, or when he changed gears or any other time there was opposite movement of what I was expecting.

I finally got used to riding and enjoyed cruising around the back roads seeing all the rural sights. Some of those were truly “sights”. I’m talking out in the country where people tend to feel a little freer. I was good with sticking to the little curvy roads and gave strict orders for him NOT to take me out on the four-lane where the cars moved a lot faster and closer to me.

So, after getting used to the four-lane … I specifically said, “Do not take me to the interstate on this thing.”  Where did we go next?? I still don’t like motorcycle riding on the interstate with the tractor trailers and wild drivers being just inches away, with no metal or even plastic around me. Yikes. I just don’t think about that part too much.

Really funny things can happen when you’re out on a motorcycle, too. Like when the doublewide husband rides with a sleeveless shirt and a leather vest. He might also have a few tattoos. People in Subaru’s (or Honda’s or Audi’s — I’m using it as an example, so don’t everybody  get your nose out of joint) automatically think  you’re some kind of outlaw biker when you’re riding a bike and have tattoos.. Heck, I’ve thought the same thing and I drive a Chevy.  People in cars don’t realize they can be heard over the roar of the motor, saying things like, “Don’t stare. Keep your eyes straight ahead and don’t look at him. Maybe he’ll leave us alone.” Then he decides to play along and have some fun with it…

Motorcycle riding can be pretty exhilarating. You get to smell all the road smells up close and personal. (that’s not always a good thing) The nighttime sky looks bigger and brighter too. I’ll probably keep riding as long as I can hang on. Or maybe I’ll eventually have to somehow tie myself on so I won’t slide off.

To make things even more exciting, I might have to get a tattoo. Then people would think I’m a big, bad motorcycle outlaw. Or not. I don’t really look very outlawish. My helmet’s easy-slide sun visor probably doesn’t help my “biker” look either. I do have a leather vest and chaps, so that counts for something.

Anyway, if you see us out on the road riding around, don’t be afraid to wave and say “hi”. We’ll be nice, even if you’re in a Subaru (or a Honda or an Audi…).

 

 

Motorcycling 101

Hee Hee Hee, Haw Haw

Anyone born past 1997 probably doesn’t remember the tv show Hee Haw. It was sort of like touch screen phones – a blessing and a curse all at the same time.

The show was a slap-stick, corn pone take on life in the country (or life in the South) — but some thought it made us look like backward yahoos with no education and no shoes. Well, yeah. We loved it anyway. The jokes were so dumb, they were funny and we could always count on seeing a country music star perform on the show. One of my favorite segments was The Culhanes.

If f I researched hillbilly I’m sure I would find a picture of the Hee Haw gang. My picture might be included too, because I just remembered something. We lived a house without indoor plumbing once upon a time, when I was little….. I was a baby, so in no way was I responsible for that. I don’t think my parents lived there long.

Hee Haw was one of my favorites and from what I read, people everywhere — even in New York City – really liked it. The show held on for a long tv run before the residents of Kornfield Kounty had to pack it in and go back to the farm.

Last week I went to see Lu Lu Roman, one of the Hee Haw favorites, at a music venue  called the Crooked Road General Store. I got to talk to her and have my picture made with her. It was better than seeing the biggest movie star in Hollywood.  I was in Hee Haw heaven.

An informercial for Hee Haw videos got me thinking about the show and I wanted to see it again. It wouldn’t be considered hip now and certainly not socially acceptable. Maybe we need a little Hee Haw in our world again. People just need to sit back, relax and watch some corn pone — and laugh a little more.

Ode to the Yard Sale

Ah, the good old yard sale. Stick a sign up in your front yard and people will beat your door down to get your junk before you can even get out of bed. (note to self: put yard sale signs up the morning the sale is actually happening, after I’m awake and have coffee in hand)

I need to get rid of a lot of stuff myself — it’s mostly things I’ve collected from other people’s yard sales. The frenzy hits me when I go  — one good sale leads to another one. You never know what kind of bargain you’re gonna find. It’s like eating potato chips. You can’t stop at one or two. Same way with a yard sale. I get a Kate Spade purse for two dollars and I can’t stand it. I have to go to the next sale to find a dress to go with it. It doesn’t even matter if the dress is too big for me. That’s what the belt I found at the last sale is for.

So it is with me and yard sales. A fifty-cent shirt here and a dollar pair of sandals there, and I’m hooked for the day. The last time I went yard sale-ing I got two metal sunflowers for a dollar each. These were the big nice ones that don’t bend with the first wind that comes along. A DOLLAR! Never mind that I had to buy three dollar’s worth of yellow paint to refurbish them. They’re now nicely displayed in my yard to greet visitors. So there; I’m actually using them.

The yard sale to end all yard sales is the big one we have here called the “Tree Street Sale”. You can find basically anything your heart desires along the lines of dishes, collectible figurines, pots, pans and old coffee pots that may or may not work. There’s usually a note somewhere near the small appliances that says, “we cannot guarantee this works.” My yard sale buddy, Greg, won’t let me forget about the door I bought one year. I still haven’t done anything with it.

Hungry? At the Tree Street extravaganza, there’s always an assortment of  bake sale items alongside the slightly used tupperware.  You’ll also find coolers of cold drinks with the pricing guide on the lid and Mexican food at lunch time. Everybody gets in on the action.

Getting out early enough is always key in finding the best bargains at any yard sale.  That’s always my holdup — I don’t like to get up early on Saturday. Though, if you’ve recently moved and  you can get going at the break of day,  you can outfit your house or apartment with furniture, curtains and an assortment of artwork cheap.

I really do need to have my own yard sale to get rid of the some things that have piled up. I don’t like having yard sales, but it’s  good way to get rid of things and make back a fraction of the money spent buying the stuff in the first place.

Maybe I’ll start my own version of a mega yard sale — an evening yard sale would suit me. Be sure to follow the signs and come on out.  You just might get a good deal on a door…

 

The Fourth Festivities

I’m a day late and a dollar short.

The blog is a little late and I spent the last dollar I had with me today to buy a Pal’s tea (if you don’t know what Pal’s is, be sure to visit one when you’re in the area).  But that’s not what my subject is about this time. Today I’m thinking about the July 4th picnics we had when I was growing up.

It was always a time of celebration – somebody would go early to get picnic tables at Warrior’s Park before they were all taken. I don’t think we could reserve tables, so somebody had to be the lookout. It had to be on a fairly level spot so there was plenty of room for all the metal folding chairs.

Our family was pretty big. Most of us lived in town and a few drove in from across the line in Virginia. When we all got together, you could aways count on a lot of eating and talking. And more eating – grazing on the leftovers was the best part. My cousins and I looked forward to playing together and somebody was always begging to go spend the night with somebody else at the end of the day, so they could keep playing.

Our moms cooked the food and loaded down the tables with everything imaginable. All the 4th favorites were there. There was always mac and cheese (you can’t have a family get-together, or any gathering, without it!), homemade slaw, potato salad, green beans, canned pickles, you name it. The men usually took care of the grilling. I don’t remember any big fires getting out of hand — just nice, burnt hot dogs.

It seems that I always end up working food into my posts — I think that means I like to eat. I get it honest. I come from a family of hearty eaters. It seemed like my dad could eat more than anyone — his thin frame never looked any bigger though. He always said the food went to his legs.

I’ve spent half my life (or more) celebrating something with food – or just going out after church to eat. I guess holidays and after church times were created for eating. Sharing meals seems to make us happy. I know it makes me happy.

So, with that I will say: Happy 4th of July, everyone! I hope you get to spend time eating all your favorites with family and friends. Burn a hot dog for me.