Y2K-Ten years later

It will be the end of the world as we know it.

Do you remember where you were December 31,1999? Due to the shortsightness of computer makers, at the stroke of midnight, all computers will roll over to 1900 and turn themselves off because they didn't exist then. People bought and hoarded canned food, bottled water, kerosene, gasoline, batteries and candles. How would the computerless future look? Would anything you owned work?

Well, as we found out, all that pandamonium was unfounded. I won't call it a hoax, but possibly the most over hyped event that I can remember.

Were you prepared for Y2K or did you just go about life as normal?

Christmas recovery

Since Christmas was on Friday this year (my normal laundry day, yes ladies I do the laundry around here), and we went down south for some Lemon squeezings from the grand kids on Saturday, and Sunday was church, our laundry never got done. Fortunately, I had the foresight to schedule the day off today as a vacation day.

I started laundry before Lady Nottaguy-TYG even started getting ready for work today. I had seven loads (counting the bedspread). You know it is Christmas time when you have an entire load of reds. Since I was taking her to work today so I could have the car, I needed to get started early.

With a load in the washer & one in the dryer, I took her to work. After I dropped her off, I stopped by and took care of a couple of dogs that we are sitting. I then came home and did the dishes so I could take Mom her deviled egg container that she sent home with the leftover eggs with my wife on Christmas.

I wanted to get that dish clean so I could take it back to her with the ham bone & pies that she forgot at my brother's. I also etched their names on two tool sets that they got in the gift exchange. With that, I also has a disk of pictures to take with me to load on their computer. The drive there was quite an adventure, due to the snow we recieved. I was glad I was driving the car and not my truck (that thinks it's a sled).

When I got back, I joined my wife for lunch. It's nice to have lunch with your spouse during the week. I then came home and finished the laundry.

After I picked her up from work, I folded and put away all the laundry. We then ate supper and I read a book that I got in a lot from ebay. I purchased this lot for one specific book (which I gave as a Christmas present). The rest came along for the ride. (BTW- the book I read was Surviving the Applewhites by Stephanie Tolan. Technically it is teen book, but was pretty good, and an easy evenings read.)

I then went and put the dogs out again. When I got back, I turned on the electric blanket to warm up the bed (Thanks again,Mom). It should be warm by now. Good night to all.

Flashback Friday #67

My worst Christmas ever

Hello, come in and pull up a virtual chair by the virtual fireplace. Help yourself to a cookie (unless you've set your browser not to accept cookies) and prepare yourself for another edition of Flashback Friday.

Christmas morning. Just the very mention of it gives adults images of happy children rushing downstairs to see what awaits them under the tree. Kids wake up with joy overflowing and a bubbly anticipation of what they will soon be unwrapping.

When I was 12, I woke up on Christmas morning bubbly. Very bubbly. So bubbly, in fact, that my entire stomach was churning. And it was excitement either. I rushed downstairs, not to open presents, but to kneel before the largest porcelain article in the house. I knew it was going to be bad, because I flung my glasses aside, so they wouldn't accidentally fall in, and be lost forever.

When I was finished, or so I thought, Mom asked where my glasses were. She said that new glasses weren't one of my presents. After some searching, they were found behind the toilet.

We opened our gifts, and for the life of me, I cannot remember what I got that year. When we finished opening the presents, we made ready to make the trek into Westerville to visit my grandma. I was not looking forward to the trip, seeing that I wasn't feeling good. After two hasty stops, we made it to grandma's.

I loved Christmas at grandma's because she had the coolest Christmas tree that I had ever seen. It was a shiny aluminum tree that had a color wheel that shone on it, turning it from red to green to orange to blue (and them back around and around). This year, even the cool tree couldn't put me in a festive mood.

I laid down for most of the day in grandma's bedroom. A bucket was brought, just in case I needed it. I did several times. It got to the point where mom decided that she needed to take me to the Emergency Room at the nearby hospital.

The doctor told mom that I had picked up some kind of bug, and that I should be OK in 24-48 hours. That was fine for him, but this was Christmas, and I was messing it up for everyone. When we got back to grandma's, we said our goodbyes and headed home. Like the doctor said, I was better in a couple days.

Did you ever have a Christmas where it seemed that nothing went right?

Graph Out Loud

Here is a graph for all my "nerdy" peeps out there. A fun bit of Christmas humor.

Potluck = 1 pot & no luck

Today we had a potluck for Christmas at my workplace. For this potluck, I was bringing a crock pot of Spanish rice. While transporting the tasty dish to work this morning, as I rounded a corner, it tipped over. Luckily most of it landed in the lid. I took the pot & lid and flipped them up together and saved the vast majority of it. The rest landed on the seat of my truck.

I don't know whether to take a shop vac to it or put Sparky the wonder dragon in the truck for a while so he can clean it up.

Help! There's a dog in my underwear!

Has the rush of the Christmas season got you down. Are you having a "Blue Christmas"? If so, this TRUE story should put a smile on your face.

I was at my parent's house the other day when Dad told me of something that happened to him recently. But first I must get some of the ensuing details painted first.

My Mom had a home health client who recently passed away. Her client was concerned about what would happen to her little poodle when she died. Mom told her that she would take the dog. My parents haven't had an inside dog in a very long time.

This dog hated men when it was with Mom's client. Now that it is at my parent's house, it is the constant companion of my Dad. Dad can't even go to the bathroom without CoCo following him.

The other day, Dad went to the bathroom, followed by his little furry shadow. While he was sitting "upon the throne", CoCo curled up and made himself comfortable in Dad's underwear.

The problem was, is that Dad had a stroke a couple years ago and his arms just aren't as strong as they once were, and neither is his balance. When he finished, he tried to pull up his shorts & pants but with the extra weight of the dog, he couldn't get them up. He couldn't bend over and pick up the dog for fear of toppling foreword. He told the dog to move with no avail. He called out for someone to help him, but wasn't heard over the TV. He sat there and contemplated what to do. Finally, he lifted his legs straight in front of him, and out plopped the dog. He now closes the door upon entry to "the throne room".

Flashback Friday #66

The shirt off my back

Hi, it's me again, hoping to entertain you with some more senseless rambling about my life in the late 70's. Just the phrase "the late 70's" should have you ROFL.(IMO,the 70's were only funny to the people who didn't live it)

School pictures. Just the very mention of the phrase is enough to cause a shiver down the spine of most adults. Who ever took a good school picture? I never did. Looking back through my yearbooks has brought on many fits of laughter from my Sunday school class. But I digress. This post isn't about school pictures in general. Just one specific one.

In 7th grade, I had a favorite shirt. It was a green t-shirt with navy blue sleeves and collar band. I had my school picture taken in this shirt.

As much as I loved it, my brother, Sir Gattabout, teased me about it. He got to pick out his clothes, so everything I had was "childish" because Mom still picked out my clothes. His clothes were cool, he wouldn't be be caught dead wearing any of mine. (Disclaimer: We wore the same size shirt. He was a stick and wore smaller waisted pants even though he was four years older than me.)

Mom always bought the package of school pictures. When we brought them home, there was quite the surprise. We both had on the same shirt. How was this possible, you ask? The High school and Jr. high had picture days at different times.

When asked why he had my shirt on, my brother replied, "All my shirts were dirty, so I guess I borrowed one of yours". Mom has a strict rule that she wasn't going upstairs to gather our laundry. If we wanted it washed, we had to bring it downstairs. He hadn't, so he had nothing clean for picture day.

If I had those pictures, I would have scanned them to upload them to this post (My long-time readers know that I don't care to put my picture on this blog. I think it has shown up once, long ago). I even looked to see if I still had that yearbook from 1977 (I didn't).

Did you ever have anything unusual about any of your school pictures?

A common affliction?

Yesterday at work, I was working in another department moving parts in & out of the department with a tow motor. As I was taking a skid of parts out, I asked female co-worker D if she needed help moving her next job into place. She said she could do it with a pallet jack. A few minutes later, while I was in another department discussing upcoming part shipments with male co-worker KQ, co-worker D came over to me and the following discussion happened:

D: Can you move that skid for me? I can't budge it.

Me: You can't budget?

KQ: I hear that a lot of women can't.

At first D didn't catch on (you could tell by the look on her face). When the light came on, she put her hands on her hips and said sarcastically "Very funny". One of these days, KQ is going to say the wrong thing to the wrong woman, and she'll clean his clock.

It was like returning to the scene of the crime

Last week "The Boy" had his school Christmas program. He had it in the same building that his momma had her's at that age. He stood on the top riser just like she did in the third grade.

The difference being, he did not elbow the boy standing next to him off the top riser like his momma did.

Flashback Friday #65

Goodbye to the Butcher Boys, Hello new neighbors.

Hello, Welcome to another edition of Flashback Friday. In today's edition, we cover the topic of having a good friend move away. We had lots of neighbors, but the Butcher boys were the little brothers that I never had, and now they were leaving.

I came home from school one day and started my chores. About and hour and a half later, I heard Doug & Billy's bus (since I was now in Jr. High, my bus ran earlier than theirs, seeing that they were still in Elementary). Giving them enough time to do any homework, I went over to their house.

When they greeted me at the door, they dropped the bombshell on me. Their dad had put an offer on a house in Marengo, and it was accepted. they would be moving shortly. They were excited, me not so much.

Having only an older brother who's sole purpose in life was to torment me, I liked having younger "brothers" to play with. They never thought something was "only for little kids". It was going to be quite an adjustment without them around.

After they moved, the house they rented sat vacant for a few months. I saw, one day, that someone was moving in, but I couldn't see who. It was winter and cold, so I figured if there were kids, I would see them eventually.

One day Dad came in with a strange girl. He had seen the new family (The Pershing's) and stopped to talk to them. This girl had told him that she had seen a boy (me) out burning the trash one day. Dad told her that he would introduce us. I found out that there wasn't just a girl, but four of them. The oldest (Pauline) was my age. The next oldest, Tess, (who Dad introduced me to ) was two years younger than me. Next in line was Trina who was five years younger. The youngest girl, Samantha (or Sammy) was seven years younger. The youngest, at three years old broke tradition. He was a boy named Bert.

Now as disappointed as I was in losing the Butcher boys as neighbors, this new bunch was quite intriguing. Being in Jr. High, I had started noticing girls, and these new neighbors were cute. Not only were they cute, but they were tomboys who could climb trees with the best of them. Things weren't as bad as I had thought.

I still visited Doug & Bobby Butcher whenever Sir Gattabout knew that their aunt would be in. She lived in Columbus, but she liked him, and he liked her, so she came up as often as possible. Since we no longer saw each other at school, and I only saw them whenever my brother felt like taking me along to visit "his girl", we lost the closeness that we had when we were at each other's house every day. More to come in future posts about the adventures with the Pershing girls.

Redneck Christmas lights

As you all know, I love redneck humor (probably because I am one). I nearly fell off the chair at this Christmas light display. I'll bet mt SIL (The Woodsman) would appreciate it.

I wonder if this was one of Santa's reindeer?



I also like this one. When your neighbors get carried away, and you get tired of keeping up with the Jones, you do the next "best" thing (said with tongue firmly in cheek).


I have a feeling that this is what Charlie Brown's house would look like if he was in charge of hanging the Christmas lights:
What redneck wouldn't be proud to be seen in this?

Finally, Here comes Santa Claus

Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night.

It's like a cross between a Geico commercial and Who Wants To Be A Millionaire

This is from the "I don't know if you've seen it or not, but I thought it was pretty cool" department.

There were two Hungarian brothers (Zsolt & Geza) who were very poor. (OK everyone, say it, "How poor were they?") They were so poor that they had to live in a cave. The survived by selling scrap metal the found in the street for pennies. Their parents severed ties with them, and lost touch with them until the parents died. You may ask what I found so intriguing about this.

Their grandmother recently died in Germany. As far as they knew, grandma didn't even know of their existence. Grandma was incredibly wealthy (can we say billionaire?). Under German law, direct descendants are automatically entitled to a share of any estate. They learned of their good fortune after homelessness charity workers in Hungary were contacted by lawyers handling the estate . Now they, and a sister who lives in America, are said to be on the verge of inheriting their grandmother's massive fortune after a life of poverty.

Geza added: "If this all works out it will certainly make up for the life we have had until now - all we really had was each other - no women would look at us living in a cave. But with money maybe we can find a partner - and finally have a normal life."

Becoming a millionaire, so easy even a caveman can do it.

Flashback Friday #64

Burning the Trash

Hello, and welcome back to another look at once was. Grab yourself a chair and huddle around the fire that I'm kindling in the minds eye, for fire is the topic of the day.

When I was younger (30-35 years ago), nobody thought twice about outdoor burning. Everyone where we lived did it. Everyone had a burn barrel or burn pile. Now days, not so much.

We had both. What ever didn't fit into the barrel, was put on the pile and ignited. I can remember roasting marshmallows and hot dogs over burning furniture. Many a couch, chair or mattress went up in smoke after ending it's usefulness. When it went to the pile, you knew it wasn't any good anymore, because we didn't have the money to constantly replace stuff. It was kind of like the old Jeff Foxworthy joke around our house. "If that's still there at midnight, it's in my living room".

We used the burn barrel mostly for burning trash. It's amazing how much fun a boy can have while doing his chores, especially if it includes setting something on fire. Mom always told me that if I played in the fire, I would wet the bed (maybe that was one of her superstitions). I always played in, and around the fire. here are some of my favorite things to find in the trash:

Catsup bottles: We were too poor to use ketchup. We always got the cheap catsup in the glass bottles. When I would find one in the trash, I would loosen the lid, and set the bottle upright. The heat created pressure in the bottle, and the lid would shoot off into the air, 10-12 feet.

Aerosol cans: I know it says right on the can "Do Not Incinerate", but who hasn't tossed one into the fire to see what happens. Hair spray cans were the best. I've seen cans explode and fly 20 feet in the air. I've also seen the blow a hole in a rusty burn barrel. Only once did I burn the trash without looking for aerosol cans. When the can exploded, it scared the bejebers out of me. After that, I was very diligent about checking first.

Women's magazines: Whenever Mom got rid of any Better Homes & Gardens, Redbook, or Good Housekeeping (which wasn't, and still isn't very often), I had a field day with them. Do you know how many paper airplane you can make out of one of those? Not only did I make paper airplanes out of them, most times I would catch the planes on fire before I launched them. A flaming airplane will stay up longer than you think. I also would put firecrackers in them before lighting them (a post dealing with firecrackers is due in the future).

I realize now just how dangerous some of the things I did with fire was. When I was young, I was invincible, a stance that many kids have. I caught my oldest playing with matches when she was about seven, and I wanted to show her just how dangerous that could be. We had a couch that was totally worn out, and we were going to get rid of it. I took it to Dad's and put it on the burn pile with my kids watching at a safe distance. I lit a match and dropped it on the old couch. Within two minutes the couch was engulfed in flames. I then sat down and had a very frank discussing about the dangers of playing with fire. I think the demonstration spoke louder that I ever could.

Did you ever play with fire? If so, did you get burned?

A Great Deal?

The day after the day after Thanksgiving, Lady Nottaguy-TYG and I were at Largest-Retailer-In-The-World-Mart. As we were heading to the checkout, we overheard this conversation between a teenage boy and his dad:

Boy: Wow, Dad. Look at that price. How can you pass that up? That's a great deal!

Dad: For that, a great deal would be free.