The Absence is Haunting

written 10-2023

The absence is haunting

I'm in Alabama visiting my daughter. I've been to my Dad's place twice this visit. The lack of his presence makes the place feel haunted. Sadness just permeates the place. My daughter can barely go into his home. She says she experiences vertigo every time she enters his house.
There is a huge tree directly in front of his home. He wouldn't allow anyone to trim the limbs. He was afraid it would harm the tree. When I was here this summer taking care of things for him we discovered the tree limbs dragging across the roof severely damaged his home. So, we trimmed limbs so we could what repairs had to be made.
The tree has lost more leaves than the other trees in the yard. If this tree dies I will be heartbroken.
I didn't realize how much of a presence my Dad had until he was no longer here.

My baby brother

My Baby Brother

 My baby brother is gone. That is incomprehensible to me. Paul is supposed to be here. He is supposed to call me PL in THAT tone when we disagree on things. But he is gone. I can’t imagine a world without him in it.

Paul was born in Fort Worth, Texas right before I turned three. That is fitting. Paul’s heart was as big as Texas.

We were lucky. Our parents wanted to explore places. On the weekends we traveled all over the State. We went to Dinosaur Valley State Park and got dinosaur hunting licenses. Let me tell you- this was amazing. What dinosaur should we hunt first? Should we keep it as a pet? Can a T Rex fit in the bathtub? Would it eat the dog?

In Arizona, we explored everything: the Grand Canyon, Sunset Crater, the Painted Desert, the Petrified Forest, Montezuma’s Castle, the Casa Grande Ruins, and the coolest place of all….Bedrock City.

My dad loved motorcycles, and he loaded us up on the weekends we didn’t travel and we hit the White Tanks mountain range. We rode all over that desert, almost fell into abandoned mines, ran into many cacti, and told tales of the Superstition Mountains.

We spent a good part of our childhood in Georgia. We gathered frogs with our cousins, played under the house, ate dirt, and ate muscadines. With our cousins and best buddy (our grandpa), we enjoyed the Blizzard of 1973. We tried to build a snowman. None of us could figure out how to.

Our family took frequent trips to see our Alabama family.  We each got an RC cola and a bag of peanuts whenever we crossed the Alabama line. We bounced on our cousins’ trampoline until we were sunburned and thirsty, wandered all over the pasture on the family land, got chased by pigs, and Paul swore he saw a panther. Our favorite place was “The Little Grand Canyon” This was a large gully at the back of the property. A small trickle of water at the bottom was the cow’s water source. We tromped through it barefoot. We would return home muddy with an occasional leech on us.

My dad and grandpa would tease Paul about his “panther” sighting. I believe him. There are many critters in those woods (Wampus Cats).

But Middle Georgia was Paul’s home. He loved it. Georgia gave Paul comfort and many friends. It gives me comfort to know Paul was cherished by so many people.

Paul was one of a kind. He flirted harmlessly with every lady he talked to. He loved Dr Pepper. Anytime I told him that one of the kids was sick he told me to give them Dr Pepper and all would be right in the world.

Now our world has a huge void in it. The one and only Paul Tom is gone. Papa Smoke has gone to join our loved ones on the other side.

Ms. Book, Ms. Book this is the Principal calling

Last year I wrote something about my youngest grandson's future first few days of school. 

B takes off all his clothes when he uses the bathroom. Then demands help to put them back on. And when we try to make him go to bed he will lay on the floor and say his legs don’t work. This is how I foresee the first day of school.

10 am. the Phone rings. Answer. Ms. Book, we have a problem and need you to come up here.

Why, what’s wrong?

Well, we are having a problem with B. We need you to put his clothes back on.

What?!?!? Why is he naked?

Well, he had to use the bathroom. After a few minutes, we went looking for him. His clothes were by the sink and he was naked in the stall. We have tried to get him to put his clothes on. He refuses. Says we need to help. Ms. Book, legally we are not allowed to touch a naked child. Ms. Book, his teacher says he is now laying on the floor and says his legs don’t work. Ms. Book, please come put clothes on your child.

Day 2.

11 am. Ms. Book, can you come up here. We have a problem with B.

What happened now?

Well, Ms. Book, B wanted ice cream. They can only get ice cream on Fridays. Ms. Book, B heard me tell you that we aren’t legally allowed to touch a naked child. So, he took off all his clothes and threw them at the lunch ladies. He told the other kids that we can’t touch them if they are naked. Ms. Book, I now have 112 naked kids in the lunchroom demanding ice cream.

Who knows what will happen on the third day.

  

The Wild Bunch

August 2

My dad was born in the 1950s. His grandpa was with his second wife and a whole batch of other kids. These aunts and uncles were around my dad's age. They were my dad's childhood/sometimes adulthood best friends. They rambled all over South Alabama, got into minor trouble, smoked cigarettes, flirted with pretty girls, and did all the things that southern boys do.

The uncles all died before my dad. The last one was about a month before my dad passed. And I think that when Wallace "Hambone" died my dad was ready to go. He wanted to see my Mama, his sister, his mama, etc.

But I think he wanted to meet up with his uncles and reminisce about all the good times, the struggles, and the places they used to hang out. I think they are all together. They are watching over the enormous dynasty they created. They are wreaking havoc and telling tall tales.  I don't think the hereafter is ready for the Wild Bunch to be together again.

So, if hear the whisper of voices laughing, I know the boys are up to something and want to share.

 

 Going Home

 

One day in the early 1960’s a fresh-faced airman from South Alabama needed to get a new id at Robins AFB in Warner Robins, Georgia. As he was going about his business he came across a really cute clerk typist who had a devilish sparkle in her eye. The rest is written in the sands of time. A dynasty was born. This was my parents. A few years after they got married they had me, then a few more years and my Baby Brother was born. My parents had 9 grandkids and 13 great-grandkids.

The Air Force took us all over the world. Dad and Mom traveled all over Spain, where I was born. Every few conversations Dad talked about standing before Queen Isabella’s throne.  Dad thoroughly enjoyed all that Spain had to offer. He has told the tale of his lasagne for years. He came across an Italian woman in Spain and she gave him his glorious lasagne recipe. It gave my Dad great joy to make a massive lasagne and then share it with family and friends. Dad was in a bar in Spain when the US astronauts landed on the moon. Somewhere there is an ashtray that Dad took from the bar and labeled with the date and event.

After Spain, we were stationed in Fort Worth, Texas. We traveled all over that great state. Somewhere Paul and I have our Dinosaur Hunting Licenses from Dinosaur Valley State Park in Glen Rose, Texas.

After Texas Dad was stationed in Korea. Mom, Me, and Paul went to stay in Warner Robins while he was gone. Dad bought a little motorcycle. He had to get permission from the base commander to buy the motorcycle. Dad rode that thing all over the place. Up to his death, he would tell everyone about riding his motorcycle in the Yellow Sea.

Next up was Luke AFB in Phoenix, AZ. We went to every Native American historical place in that state. We went to the Grand Canyon, Sunset Crater, The Petrified Forest, Oak Creek Canyon, the Chapel of the Holy Cross, Bedrock City,  explored Ghost Towns, and every other landmark Arizona had to offer. Mostly though we picnicked in the White Tank Mountains. We rode motorcycles, almost fell into abandoned gold mines, and had a great time.

We were stationed in a few other places and enjoyed them. Dad loved exploring everything a place had to offer.  He loved eating the food different places offered and exploring the cultures of other places.  If we lived close to Georgia or Alabama we made regular visits back to see our family. We walked the land and Dad told us all about his childhood. He also warned us about the dreaded Alabama Wampus Cat. We traveled back and forth across the country many times and stopped at numerous Roadside Attractions.

We traveled the world. But, when Dad retired and moved back to Alabama it soothed his soul. Every visit we made to him he rode us all over South Alabama, telling us all the places he lived, that this cousin used to live at this spot, so and so was running from the law and ran off the road and ended up in that pond.  He told us about hitting some tree in the pasture with the tractor. To this day that tree doesn't look healthy.

About 15 years ago I came to help him when he had his gall bladder out. We sat up that night. He told me that when his time came to an end he wanted to be on the farm. And he was. I know that made him happy.  As soon as we got him home he was ready to go. He is reunited with Mama and his other family members that went before him. He will be laid to rest very close to his parents, and sister Gloria.

Dad was the smartest person I ever met. Family meant everything to him. I hope he will be proud of all of us as he watches over us..

 

Thunderbirds, a scary cat, and shadows

April 6

I have always loved spooky stories. From the time I could read, I had a book full of ghostly tales. I didn't know if the stories were true, but tales of ghosts, cryptids, and the undead fascinated me.

When I was 7 or 8 years old I remember the tabloids being full of stories about Thunderbirds, modern-day pterodactyls, screeching through the sky, and snatching up animals and small kids. Hey, I was a small kid with an even smaller baby brother. It's not going to happen on my watch. Imagine a tiny little Lola scanning the skies for danger while the other kids played on the monkey bars. I wonder if the kids ever realized they could have been a snack for the Thunderbirds if it wasn't for my vigilance.

Anytime we visited my Dad’s family in lower Alabama, the grownups always warned us to be careful while exploring the woods and pastures. The Alabama Wampus Cat was always lurking about. And a small child was a delicacy it craved. I remember watching Kolchak: The Night Stalker late at night on those visits.
Kolchak introduced me to new monsters: the loup-garou/rougarou, zombies, mummies, and the Mesopotamian Succubus. Heady stuff.
When I was 14 I got drunk for the first time. Tsk tsk. I was visiting a friend who’d moved back to her hometown. It was a tiny, middle-of-nowhere Arizona town on the border with Mexico. My friend and I went to bed when we realized how intoxicated we were. A little while later I had to use the restroom. As I returned to the bedroom I saw a tall, shadowy form looming over the bed. I woke my friend. We turned on the lights. Nothing there. But, she believed me. My friend’s family was Hispanic. The next morning we talked with my friend’s mom about what I'd seen. She told me a legend that the first time someone gets drunk a spirit follows them home. I have no idea if she just made this story up. I have never heard of or read it anywhere else. Unfortunately, I have been very intoxicated many times in the past. And I have never had a hallucination or seen anything similar again.
I know I’ve told y’all about Green Eyes, the monster who lived near my grandparents.

Over the years I have continued reading and watching stories about ghosts, mythical creatures, and other haunting things. I never had any personal experiences with the paranormal or haunting things until…..

When my youngest son was in middle school we moved out of town into the country. It was a nice spot with woods and trails for the kids to explore. At the back of the house, we had sliding glass doors that faced the woods. There were floor-length, vertical window blinds in front of the windows. We kept these shut at night. Weird things started happening. Things didn't feel right. We would regularly get up in the middle of the night to get a drink of water, check the doors, etc. And we would always move the blinds slightly to look into the woods. Every time we did this a huge cat would be on the top step staring into our home. This cat looked like he’d be a massive football player if he were in human form.  He was mostly black with a few white tufts of fur on his chest and head. And I swear this cat looked like he had fangs. I can not describe the feeling of unease that settled on us whenever we saw this cat. If we saw him in daylight he would stare at us at the wood line. We named this cat Lestat. To this day my kids talk about Lestat and how he just felt ominous.

Several months after moving in I was on the computer late at night. My son was near me, and my daughter was in her bedroom.  Suddenly a loud metallic scraping sound emanated from the front of the house. All of us stopped whatever we were doing, jumped up, ran to the front door, and went to see what was making this god-awful sound.  Nothing there.  We all made sure we’d heard the same thing and eventually went to bed. The next morning my son and I walked the perimeter of our property to see if we could see any signs of what caused the noise. We didn’t really find anything. Except…it looked like three fingerprints had been burned into the screen covering my son’s window.
My son usually had friends spend the night on weekends and in the summer.  One Saturday morning we were all in the dining room area talking. The boys told me none of them had been able to sleep on Friday night. They kept seeing shadows moving under the door. There was a 3-inch gap between the bottom of the door and the floor.  All the boys swore this had actually happened and I was trying to figure out a logical explanation.
We had a piano in the dining room. The lid was down and the keys were covered. No one was sitting or standing next to the piano.  As we were talking the piano played 4 to 5 notes. We instantly shut up. We all agreed not to talk about spooky stuff in the house anymore. Enough creepy things going on that I talked to a friend who was part of a paranormal investigation group.  I was exploring the possibility of having her group check out the house for me. My husband vetoed the idea. I do wish I had followed through with the investigation.
There was a lot of negative energy and emotions in the household. I think this caused something to manifest and use that energy.
A few years later I was at my daughter-in-law’s parents’ house.  My daughter-in-law was upstairs dyeing her hair red. She wanted to surprise her mom. I was downstairs in the kitchen talking to her mom. I was facing the hallway and I saw the form of a girl wearing a pale blue 1950s crinoline skirt crouched over and creeping into the master bedroom. It took me a minute to process that this wasn’t my daughter-in-law. In later talks with my daughter-in-law's mom, she told me that she regularly saw and heard things that couldn’t explain. She did her best to ignore the unexplained occurrences.
When I lived in Lower Alabama I worked at a church. The church was the first church established in town- in 1883. In 1903 the current church was built in the High Victorian Gothic style that was popular for churches at the time. The church property was large. It took up a whole city block. Multiple buildings are connected by stairways and staircases. Mostly I worked alone. Many times I would be the only person in a building. One morning I was walking down the first-floor hallway in the original part of the church. I saw shadowy feet and lower legs walk directly in front of me and through the wall and disappear. Several times if I was in the hallway directly above this area I could hear an elderly man speaking. Once I heard him quizzically ask, “No??” The music director told me she regularly heard singing in the choir room when she was alone. It felt like a memory looping into the present time. Or a former member of the church who wanted to stay in the place that brought them peace and happiness.
About a year ago we moved into our current home. Lots of rooms, in the country, on 3 acres of land, and surrounded by dense woods. My grandkids aren’t afraid of anything. Except for bees, and flies. Last year we were living in an apartment. There were several times that I got up at 10 or 11 pm and found the boys had unlocked the patio door and were playing in the courtyard. So, definitely not afraid of the dark or anything in it.
Soon after we moved into the new house the kids started seeing shadows. My youngest grandson refused to go into any room by himself. Things just felt unsettled. My middle grandson came into my room late one night. His heart was beating wildly and he had a hard time getting words out. He finally told me that he had been in his bed playing on his tablet and heard a loud sigh directly by his ear. Things just kept occurring. Small things. But, the kids were scared and I wasn’t feeling good about the situation.
I talked to my neighbor who has lived in the neighborhood for over 30 years. Multiple houses have burned down on our road. There are less than 15 houses on the road. A few houses down from us two people were murdered by a drug dealer. The dealer believed the victims had reported his activities to the police.  A few years later a different family lived in the home. A two-year-old choked to death on a piece of dog food.  Another neighbor drowned in his own pond. And, I found out that kids were molested on the property we live on. It seems like an unusual amount of mayhem for a small, rural road.
I did a little research and talked to a few people. I bought sage and one morning when I was alone I walked through the house with burning sage. I chanted a simple mantra that asked for positivity and cleansing. Things calmed down. I recently saged the house again because of some mild spookiness.
In January we added extra security cameras outside the house because of some neighborhood shenanigans. When movement is detected for more than 10 seconds recordings begin, never more than a 30-second recording. If the alarm is turned on the cameras emit a warning sound. The multiple cameras are angled so there aren’t any blind spots near doors or windows.
This morning two backyard cameras recorded 10 separate events. And recorded for 90 seconds each time. The cameras labeled the events as person-detected.
The animals weren’t in the area. The wind wasn’t blowing. We checked the recordings. Nothing moving on the cameras.
If this happens again I’m salting all the doorways and windowsills. I will have sage candles burning in the house. And if anything really weird happens I’m calling in reinforcements. We have a friend of a friend who is a priest who blesses houses and pets.
I don’t have enough sage to cleanse 3 acres.

  My Grandpa and Bonnie & Clyde

A few months ago I was writing down stories about the monster that lived in my grandparent's woods. I reached out to my brother and a couple of cousins to see if they had memories/stories about the monster. 

My cousin, B, didn't remember anything about the monster. But, he asked me if I knew the story about our grandpa getting picked up by Bonnie & Clyde while hitchhiking during the time our grandpa was a traveling bible salesman in Texas.WHAT?! This couldn't be true! My grandpa: a bible salesman? In Texas? Bonnie & Clyde? Pfft. Couldn't be true. I checked with other relatives and my dad confirmed the story.

Let me give a little background. A few years ago I became interested in family history and whenever I had time I'd do research. Ancestry.com had an update not long ago and a lot of census records became available. One record intrigued me. A listing for my grandpa in New Orleans in 1930. It didn't make sense to me. My grandpa was the last person I could imagine living in New Orleans. But, I did further research and found he was a student at the Baptist Bible Institute in New Orleans at the time. This fits my knowledge of my grandpa. He later studied theology at Mercer University in Macon, Georgia. Grandpa did a little preaching and helped establish First Baptist Church in Warner Robins, Georgia.

The Baptist Bible Institute would provide students with a bus ticket and a suitcase full of bibles to sell. This helped raise funds for the student and the Institute. Once the students arrived at their destination they had to figure out their own transportation, lodging, etc. My grandpa got a bus ticket to Texas. He hitchhiked wherever he needed to get to. One day a nice, young couple picked him up. They were having a pleasant conversation and my grandpa realized the back of the car was full of guns. Grandpa remained calm, pretended not to see the guns, and continued talking to the couple. Soon the couple dropped my grandpa off. Bonnie & Clyde were active in the area at the time and were known to pick up hitchhikers. So, until his dying day, my grandpa believed the young couple was Bonnie and Clyde, and I'm sure he believed if he talked to them a little longer he could have saved their souls and averted all the mayhem that ensued. 

I have no idea how I didn't hear this story until I was 55 years old. But, I'm very glad my grandpa was unflappable and remained calm in a tense situation. He was a good man with a kind heart and I'm very glad he survived his time as a traveling bible salesman.

Zombie Apocalypse Team

 Zombie Apocalypse Team

When my youngest son was about 14 years old we began taking long walks at about 8 p.m. We lived out in the country. It was quiet and we discussed many things.

I remember J telling me the story of The Black-Eyed kids. Look that up. Pretty interesting and a good way to scare yourself. This night was extremely dark and the stars and moon weren’t visible. We were about two miles from home when J told me the story. I was properly spooked by the time we got home. I don’t think I slept that night.

We enjoyed zombie movies, books, and television shows. One night we started devising a plan on what we would have to do to survive “The Zombie Apocalypse”. We specifically talked about resources in our area. Over time we added more details to the plan. We tried to figure out how long we needed to hide at home. We discussed how we thought people in our area would react. I'm pretty sure we decided that two weeks was the right amount of time to let the dust settle. The initial panic would have calmed down and hopefully, people would have left the area. We talked about what resources to gather and what would increase the odds of long term survival. There was a military base nearby and we would need some military vehicles to roll over anything in our path. We tried to be strategic and make logical plans.

I don't believe a Zombie Apocalypse will ever happen. But, I used zombies as an example of civilization breaking down. I used these discussions as a thought exercise on how to save my loved ones in case of disaster. I may use the plans in a writing experiment one day. This was a fun way to pass the time on our walks.

When my future daughter-in-law joined the walks she didn’t know what to think about our Zombie Apocalypse plans. The amount of planning we had devoted to this shocked her. After listening to us she realized we weren’t batshit crazy.  We just loved to run our mouths to pass the time.

Occasionally I will still bring up my Zombie Apocalypse Team. These are the people I want to save and would be an asset in our quest for survival. I have excluded some people with skills and knowledge that would be useful. These people may have desirable skills or knowledge. But, they have shown themselves to be unreliable and unable to use good judgment. They have demonstrated behavior that is self-centered and disregards health and safety issues. I believe they would be a liability.

The main reason I have excluded people is I would rather get eaten by a zombie than survive the Apocalypse ( of any kind) in their company.

I haven’t excluded people because of physical limitations. If someone makes good decisions and I enjoy their company I want them on my team. Children and the elderly must be protected. I would fight through hordes of zombies to make sure the kiddos and my dad are safe.

The amount of time I have given to figuring out how to save the cats is ridiculous.If the team was on foot I think the cats would be fine. The cats would follow us and hopefully have enough sense to avoid the zombies and other dangers. One problem is the zombies would smell intriguing and this may interest the cats.

I'm not sure if we could save most of the dogs. They make entirely too much noise and some of the dogs are dumber than a box of hammers. But, I would have to try. My oldest son, T, would abandon the team if we didn’t try to save the dogs. He would wear a sling baby carrier carrying a half-blind, half-senile, mostly bald, and bad-tempered chihuahua. The rest of his motley crew of dogs would surround us and gallop through the Apocalypse, falling over their own feet. Imagine the Bumpus Hounds from The Christmas Story movie.

So, if you would like to be on my team, talk nonsense about outlandish scenarios, and love to run your mouth, hit me up. :)

 THE WEEK TEXAS FROZE OVER

Recently I lived in Texas for about four years. As a preschooler, I had lived in Texas for a couple of years and my brother was born there. I love Texas. It is a beautiful state with lots of places to ramble around and enjoy nature. 

Everyone should visit Dinosaur Valley State Park in Glen Rose. I have an official dinosaur hunting license issued in July 1971.  I hope that one day I can see the Marfa Lights.

Both times that we lived in Texas we were in the Fort Worth area. I loved Fort Worth, except for the never-ending construction projects. Any type of food that I desired was available. There were a variety of fun activities and wonderful parks. Most importantly, I loved the libraries in the area. 

Today I'm going to talk about the ten days that Texas froze. This was in February 2021. A large part of the country was affected by three winter storms that came one after another. I'm a huge weather junkie, and I have a crush on my favorite DFW weather person, Evan Andrews. I usually give my family a weather report every morning. My DIL told all her friends that she didn't watch the weather, she knew I'd tell her what was happening weatherwise. “ At about 10 am we are going to get rain. But, it will only last 22.5 minutes.”

 The weather people realized we were going to get a massive, damaging storm system come through and people needed to prepare. There were going to be multiple days of subzero temperatures and a large ice storm. People needed to winterize homes and vehicles and stock up on firewood, food, and medical supplies. I told my family. They thought the storm was overblown and there wouldn’t be any problems.

The first storm came through and caused a lot of ice on the roads. There was a 133-vehicle pile-up on I 35. At least six people died and dozens were injured. This was the route that most people used to travel from Fort Worth to the Dallas area. My DIL  used this route every workday.  Anytime Evan mentioned ice I made sure to tell my son and DIL so they could take extra time and precautions during their commutes. Of course, they think I’m Chicken Little. “Oh. Lola is just being paranoid again.” I have to admit that I get obsessed with severe weather possibilities. LOL.

A few days later the next storm system moved in. Glorious, beautiful snow fell. It looked like a scene from a movie about snow on Christmas. The kids had a blast playing outside in the snow. So, did the adults. I stayed by the bedroom window watching the snowfall for several hours.

The main power supplier for the state warned people that usage was exceeding the supply. Rolling blackouts were planned to ease the burden on the system.  The snow began to turn to ice. Sub-zero temperatures continued. Rolling blackouts started. But, the power grid failed. Texas experienced the worst energy failure in the state's history. 4.5 million homes and businesses had no power. Some of our neighbors were without power for about 10 days. Our home had no electricity for about 40 hours. After the power came back on we had to boil our water.

During the outage, we had a small amount of firewood. Most of it was too big for our fireplace. My son tried to cut it up with an ax and the ax broke. My son and DIL tried in vain to find firewood. But, there was none to be found. As the temperature inside our home continued to drop my DIL called hotels within 100 miles of us. She was trying to find a warm place for us, most importantly the kids, to stay. In desperation, she began calling RV dealerships trying to rent an RV. No luck. The dealerships couldn’t let anything leave the lot because the lot and all the roads were covered in thick ice.

I followed the advice of the weather experts. I shut the curtains and blinds to keep the heat in, had every faucet in the house dripping, put layers of clothes on the kids and myself, and tried to limit the amount exterior doors that were opened.

But, we had visitors. And they were actively going behind me and undoing my efforts. They reopened the blinds, turned off faucets, and ran around the house wearing thin pajamas. They actively sabotaged my efforts to keep the house warm and pipes safe. We had a small fire going. I was trying to conserve the wood for the night. The visitors tried to build a roaring fire instead of putting on warm clothing. I realized the power might be out for several days and I was taking sensible precautions. 

The visitors also wanted to go out to eat. “Sandwiches!! Who wants to eat a sandwich?! I want to go to that restaurant we  talked about last night.” Which was 30 minutes away. There were at least 6 inches of ice covering all the roads for hundreds of miles. News stations and Emergency Management authorities were advising EVERYONE to stay home, stay off the roads, and find a way to stay warm. Within a few hours of the power going out, I was ready to beat the visitors with a large stick, or maybe a shovel. The feeling was mutual. 

Every few hours we piled into our vehicles and turned on the heat. When we went to bed that night we made sure the kids and pets were sleeping with at least one adult. Every blanket in the house was piled on the beds.

I truly did not know if we would wake up in the morning. Before my cell phone died I sent messages to my loved ones that lived out of the area. If I died I wanted to make sure they knew how much I loved them. I didn't say anything to alarm them. But, I made sure to message my other kids, my dad, and my brother. I kissed the two grandkids sleeping with me and told them I loved them. I spent the night listening to them breathe. Later estimates of the death toll from these storms range from 250 to over 700 people. Children died sleeping in their own beds. Car crashes, carbon monoxide poisoning, and house fires all contributed to the death toll.

At lunch, we loaded into the van. We had to find someplace to get warm for at least a little while. My son and DIL called all over DFW trying to find a restaurant that was open. We found a place and it took about an hour to get there. I'm very glad my DIL was driving and the van had a snow-driving setting. I’d trust my DIL to drive through the Apocalypse and its aftermath. Yes, she may scare me half to death. But, she’s going to get us there. The restaurant had a smattering of people in it. Two employees were handling everything. The smile and cheerfulness of our waitress were dearly needed. We didn’t mind the wait. It was warm and everyone was glad to get a hot meal. I was counting the seconds until sundown, and dreading it more than words can describe.

Our power came back on three to four hours after we got back home. The relief I felt was all-encompassing. I had been in excruciating emotional turmoil and finally, I had some relief. We had sub-freezing temperatures for a few more days. Our wonderful neighbors banded together. Many of the neighbors whose power was back on made huge pots of food. They offered a warm meal, a place to charge cell phones, and a chance to sit in warmth for our neighbors in need. 

It took about three days to clean and wash everything that needed it. But, we were lucky. As the pipes thawed, frozen pipes burst. Several of our neighbors had their entire 2nd-floor crash onto the 1st floor. A soggy, half-frozen mishmash of flooring, insulation, and whatever had been on the 2nd floor. It took several months for repairs to be made. There was so much damage down throughout the whole region that plumbers, contractors, and other repair people were booked for several months.

In the time since the power grid failure, the government and state officials of Texas have done little to actually fix the problems with the power grid. They knew of the issues for several years before the storms of February 2021. But, they have more important things to do. Stripping away voting rights, targeting women’s reproductive rights, and the rights of the LGBTQ community. And of course, ignoring school shootings.

I love Texas. I miss many things about Texas and we made so many good memories while we lived there.  But, I despise the state officials and bureaucrats that are in charge. This storm and the Covid pandemic were major factors in the decision our family made to get out of Texas and move closer to the rest of our family. 

We just need to find some good restaurants in South Carolina.

Walking away from a life

WALKING AWAY FROM A LIFE

I was 16 when I met my ex-husband. He was 18 months older than me.
We fell in love. It worked well for a good while. There were signs from
the beginning of gaslighting and isolating me from my family and friends. But it was minimal, and I ignored early warning signs.
My ex-husband took care of us for a long time. He did love us and took care of us.  We did small vacations with the kids. Money was always tight. And he had a drug problem that exacerbated that. But we went camping and to the beach when we could squeeze out money. There were good times and I appreciate those times. My aunts and uncles adored my husband. My dad really had a good opinion of my ex-husband.
There were some problematic things my dad tried to point out.
But, my head was stuck firmly in the sand.
After several years things started to get worse. The drug problem 
worsened and my ex-husband began to drink...a lot. I thought if I did this or that things would get better. I always felt that anything that went wrong was my fault. I scraped the sides of our truck going through a fence. He never let me live that down. And made fun of me in front of people for a long time. He ignored the fact he had been in at least 3 car accidents and had his license suspended for multiple tickets. There were several troubling incidents, and I do not want to get into them right now. One thing that stands out is if the wife/girlfriend of one of his friends did something he did not approve of he yelled at me for hours. One woman cheated on his friend. My ex-husband told me that if I ever cheated on him, he would beat the other man half to death, put him in a corner, and force him to watch me get beaten. This was early in the marriage. He said this repeatedly through the years. I was by no means perfect. I made mistakes. Nothing I did was an excuse for the physical and mental abuse my children and I suffered.
My ex-husband began to mentally abuse me and the kids. Then he 
began intimidating us physically. This went on for years. I left my
husband 29 and a half years after I met him. I should have left 
about 10 years earlier. But I did not. I will forever live with that guilt. 
I have forgiven myself, mostly. But I take full responsibility for not leaving. But I realized I was not mentally capable of doing it. 
Think about leaving behind the life you have built for yourself. Most of the people you have known, 90% of your possessions, the town you lived in for 20 years, the friendships, the home you had, the routines that gave you comfort. But it was the only way we could escape. If I had left him and stayed in that area, he would have terrorized me and my family.
And I honestly believe he would have burnt down the house as we slept.  My ex-husband now terrorizes his brother because my ex knows where his brother is. He breaks into his brother's house, steals from him, has beaten him at least twice, and the last time tried to stab his brother. To this day I only stay connected with 2 people that live in our old town. Because I must minimize the number of people that know where I live. Most of my family does not know the town I live in. I will tell them about the region we live in. Not because I do not trust them. But, because they could innocently mention where I live to someone, and it gets back to my ex. Or my ex could get violent with them, and they tell him.
My ex lied to anyone who would listen that I stole the money he inherited from his mom. No, we used that money to try to keep our home. Because my ex refused to work anymore. He laid in bed all day, drank alcohol all night, and laid waste to our life.
I have a relative, let us call her Oblivious, who tries to guilt my daughter into coming back and taking care of her dad. This has happened several times. It is not our responsibility to take care of him. We tried for years before I left to get him help. We turned our lives upside down and sideways to help him.
Even after I left, and he threatened to kill me multiple times we tried to find programs to help him. We got a friend to take him in at one point. My ex kept getting thrown out of programs or refused to go to them. My 
brother-in-law will not do the challenging thing and call the police every time my ex shows up. He does not want people to think he is being mean to his poor sick brother. It is not my brother-in-law's responsibility to take care of my ex either. 
He tried several times to help him. But Oblivious minimizes the damage and trauma my kids and I went through. One of my kids and I opened up about some of the horrendous things we suffered because of my ex. A trauma/abuse victim should not have to detail the abuse to anyone to try to get them to understand their pain. We do not have to justify our decision to cut our abuser out of our lives. And Oblivious knew some of it. She was close to my kids. But she does not care about the trauma we suffered and blames us because my ex is mentally ill and homeless. She has told us that we should just forget about the years of torture. It is unfair that my poor brother-in-law must be embarrassed because of my ex. We should just come back and let my ex 
abuse us some more. In her opinion, the mental health issues that we still suffer from due to my ex aren’t important.  Having to leave our home and not having a secure place to live is not important. So, this person has shown who she really is.
And we are better off without her in our lives.
We tried to help my ex. But, to save ourselves we had to cut ties with our abuser. He is still in his hometown. He has numerous family members there. But they realize he is a danger to anyone that takes him in. Oblivious told us we had been mad long enough and we needed to get over it. I had been hoping that if my ex ever died my family would be able to reestablish relationships with the people, we had to minimize contact with. But I now realize that those relationships are not worth rekindling.
These people believed the worst of me and my kids. Even after they realized my husband was a monster. They believed the lies. 
There are a few people I deeply miss from our hometown. And I have a few friends from that time that stay connected, and I cherish these people. These people have stuck with me through the darkest periods in my life. There were times when I did not have the will to continue the struggle. But these friends kept encouraging me and believing in me. Thank goodness for these people.

And Oblivious can go fuck herself.

 

A giant fish fry, 1980's hair bands, and .........the intrigue

I have told my kids I don't want a funeral. Two weeks after I die I want them to throw a huge fish fry. Lots of fried fish, coleslaw with lots of pepper, homemade mac and cheese. And Dr Pepper. Maybe Sprite for the weaklings. Play all the 80's hair bands, some Metallica, and of course Prince. I have a playlist of some songs I want

• You are my Sunshine from the O Brother soundtrack
• Enter Sandman by Metallica
• the Blippi song
• Drop the World by Little Wayne
• Whiskey Lullaby by Allison Krause
• Eye of the Tiger by Survivor
• Lost by Gorilla Zoe
• Girls Just Wanna Have Fun by Cyndi Lauper
• Fat Bottomed Girls by Queen

I want everyone to eat and reminisce. Tell ridiculous stories about things I did or said. Tell my truth, not platitudes.

 And then I want 2 dapper and well-dressed men to enter the gathering. These men are each about 30 years younger than me. 

They mingle quietly while staring daggers at each other.

After a while, each one tells a different tale that seemingly has nothing to do with the person my family perceived me to be. The tales make me be a character out of an espionage novel. Tell everyone how together we saved the world, several times.  One of them stomps his foot and declares that we became lovers during THE PANAMA INCIDENT!  The other man is shocked by this announcement and drops his food.  I want them to argue loudly over who was the love of my life. Then the men depart after telling my family they should be very proud of me.

My aunt Ann would drop her potato salad. Everyone would try to figure out what just happened. And what in the hell happened in Panama? 

Murderous thought of a lunch lady

    I worked in a Middle school lunchroom for three years. This was my first real job. I had just turned thirty. My youngest child was now in school. It was time to get a job. This was the hardest, dirtiest, and most unsafe job I ever worked. My body ached until after midnight every night.

  But, working in the lunchroom was one of my favorite jobs. The ladies I worked with were amazing. 90% of them were at least 25 years older than me. But, we were a team and knew how to get things done. Miss Jewell, my partner in crime, recently died. This hurt my soul. She taught me how to make 700 yeast rolls that people WANTED to eat. She taught me a lot. She was a kind woman, even though she told everyone exactly what she thought. I will always remember her fondly.

   Our group of ladies ran one of the better-run lunch rooms in the county. We made suggestions on how to make things run more efficiently and easier on us. Of course, our suggestions were always ignored. 

   There was an online threat made against the school.  Every entrance was locked down, except the lunchroom. We routinely kept our doors unlocked so we could accept deliveries. Every staff member was notified about the threats. Except for the lunchroom staff. We only found out when a teacher popped in during her free class period. We were amazed at the ignorance. The spot in the school where it would be easiest for any intruder to enter hadn't even crossed the administration's mind.

  But, my fellow lunch ladies were, and still are, some of the best people in the world.. We worried about the teachers, other support staff, and of course the students. We saw these people five days a week and got to know them. It felt like a family.

   But, as I said this was back-breaking and dirty work. One rule of the lunchroom was people were to stack their trays when returning them. Most did, and some didn't. It was always the same people who just slung their trays onto the counter. Spilling leftover food everywhere, especially splattering the lunch lady. This slowed things down and made a huge mess. The tray return was one of the hardest spots to work in the lunchroom. You had to move very quickly and efficiently or the line would run out of trays, silverware, and glasses. 

   On the days that I worked in the tray return area, I soothed my aggravation by imagining I was writing a book. A beloved senior was murdered on school grounds. It was a mystery. Who would want to kill sweet Jimmy Johnson?  Jimmy was in all the clubs, mentored students who needed help, he stood up to bullies. Just a great person.

  It was Blanche!?!?! The sixty-year-old lunch lady. What!?!?! Blanche taught Sunday School. She delivered Meals on Wheels. She knit blankets for every new baby in town. What could possibly have caused Blanche to do this??? Blanche was just exasperated that every school day since Jimmy started as a Freshman he slung his tray willy-nilly onto the counter. She had told him over and over to stop. He didn't listen. Blanche was tired of having half-eaten Jello or mashed potatoes slung on her every day.

   So make sure to be kind to any lunch ladies you come across. They are wonderful people. But, they may harbor dark thoughts about people who exhibit bad lunchroom behavior. So.....smile, call them by name, and ALWAYS STACK YOUR TRAYS!

   

Neighborhood Grandparents

    When I was five years old and my brother was two my dad was stationed in Korea for a year. My Uncle got shipped to Vietnam, My mom's parents owned a couple of acres of land. Everyone decided a good solution to the issue of helping both families was to put two trailers behind my grandparent's house. My mom, brother, and I were in one. My aunt and two cousins were in the other.

  It was wonderful for us kids. My grandfather had retired early for health reasons. He watched over us kids and we had a great time. We ran around all day playing in the dirt and enjoying having playmates. My grandfather usually wore overalls and an old straw hat. He always traveled with his collie dog, Mighty (pronounced Mawghty). Grandpa took us to the old, country store for ice cream. Many days he loaded all of us, and our friends, into a wagon hooked onto his tractor. He gave us so many good memories. He'd gather up piles of leaves and let us jump in the pile over and over. Our friend's parents knew their kids were always safe at our place. We all considered each other family.

   I have many memories of crawling around under the house trying to catch frogs for my cousin. D was one of my bestfriends. He loved all sorts of critters. He talked his mom into getting him guinea pigs, even though she was terrified of them. If they got loose she would call my grandpa to come to find them and put them back in the cage. 

   My grandpa would take us to school, pick us up, watch my baby brother, and do everything he could to make us happy. Grandpa would take all four kids and Mighty to the barbershop when he needed a haircut. I remember several times he'd pick up a hitchhiker. Grandpa was a kind man and helped out anyone that needed it.

    Several times when I was in high school I would see my Grandpa's old Rambler parked outside. I'd wonder what in the world is he doing here. He would be there to pick up one of our friends because they were sick. Or he'd be bringing them a change of clothes or homework they forgot. The friends knew all they had to do was call and he would be there in a flash.

   One summer I had to attend summer school. My cousin and brother also had to attend summer school. It was at separate schools. My grandpas would pick us up, take us to school, pick us up and drop us at our homes. The entire ride we were terrified because his driving had become erratic. Many days he would take us for lunch at Krystal's or Nu-way. These are still two of my favorite places to eat. 

  Every Saturday the family would gather for lunch. Most of the time my grandmother cooked. But, every few weeks she would get Barbeque and Brunswick Stew from the best BBQ place in the world, White Diamond Grill in Bonaire, Georgia. Even though it has been at least fifteen years since I ate food from White Diamond I can still taste it.

  This has mostly been about my grandpa. There is just so much to say about my grandma that her story will have to wait for another time. The time I spent with my grandparents was wonderful. I am so lucky that they were in my life. I can only hope that my grandchildren will remember me as fondly. 

My dad and the rabbit hole

My Dad and his theories

Hey Everyone! I'm going to talk about my dad and some of his theories. My dad is one of the smartest people I have ever met. If he’d had a good support system and been able to attend college I can't imagine how much he could have accomplished. I respect my dad more than just about anyone. He has a deep sense of honor. If he tells you that he will help you with something nothing will stop him from honoring that commitment, even if it causes trouble for him.

My dad was born into extreme poverty. One of his early memories is of his heavily pregnant mother working in the fields while his father sat in the car eating a candy bar and drinking a Coke. My dad and his sisters went to live with their Uncle and Aunt when their mom died. My dad was ten years old. My grandmother died because she lived in pre-Roe Vs Wade times. My father said before they lived with his Uncle and Aunt that he was always hungry and was never warm. A relative had to take him and his sisters to buy shoes for their mom’s funeral.

Dad joined the military as soon as he graduated from high school. He met and married my mom a few years later.

Jumping ahead about 20 years. As a young adult, I was in several Book of the Month Clubs. Every few weeks they sent out brochures with their recommendations. In 1987 I saw something that looked intriguing. A book by an author I followed. Whitley Strieber. This was a “non-fiction” book about his encounters with aliens. woo.

Little did I know that this would lead to a 15-20 year deep dive into every alien/shadow government theory for my dad. He was dealing with a lot. My mom was descending into extreme mental illness. She did not respond well to treatment. After Mom died my dad said it was like tap dancing on the edge of a razor blade for 30 years. He got very little sleep and still had to work to provide for them. So, he was not in the best place mentally. He needed something interesting to help him escape what was happening at home.

I read Communion and it blew me away. I gave it to my dad. We always shared interesting books. It took hold of him. We read everything we could find about alien encounters, abductions, etc. And there was a lot. Communion seemed to set off a chain reaction. Books, movies, and pop culture were obsessed with these alien abduction stories.

Dad was obsessed. We read Ed Walters's book The Gulf Breeze Sightings. Dad began listening to Chuck Harder’s webcasts. Chuck had just about every UFOologist, and conspiracy theorist on his show. If someone saw a strange light behind their Granny’s house after drinking moonshine they were probably on the show. Dad was introduced to theories on ancient astronauts, the Shadow Government, and the New World Order. He heard tales about governments across the world colluding with aliens to harvest and enslave humans, the Clinton conspiracies, and theories about The Royal Family. Every day Dad checked The Rense Report and The Drudge Report. Every link had to be clicked. Dad introduced all these stories to coworkers and friends.

After mom died and Dad’s every breathing moment was consumed by caring for her, Dad’s belief in the conspiracy theories/ alien abduction stories died down. They are still interesting. But, Dad realizes most of the theories are absurd.

Of course, Dad still doubts the existence of the World Trade Center. He has been to New York a few times and has never seen the Twin Towers. Of course, it was foggy or very rainy on those days. But, still. Dad still believes in Gaia, the Earth Mother, nurturer, the Soul of the Earth. He still believes in all the Clinton Conspiracies. But, mostly he likes reading about Big Foot, ghosts, cryptozoology, etc for escapist entertainment. I think this stuff is interesting. But, I don't really believe in any of it. But……..the Shadow Government theory. Hmmm. There may be something to that. But, maybe not.

There's a Monster in the Woods!

 #Green Eyes aka THE MONSTER OF COLLINS AVENUE

Hey everybody, I'm going to tell y'all a tale about The Monster of Centerville, Georgia.

Aka Green Eyes.

I consider Centerville, Georgia my hometown. My dad was in the military and we lived all over the place. But, we always came back to Centerville. My mom grew up there and her family was there. I have so many good memories of this place.

When I was a kid another child told us to never go outside after dark. Especially not alone. THERE ISA MONSTER IN THE WOODS she proclaimed. This monster was 7 feet tall, covered in white fur, and screeched like a banshee.

When I was a teen my friends and I would ride around after dark trying to find “Green Eyes” The green eyes were something my brother added to the story. He swore he'd seen Green Eyes about midnight on a dead-end road about a mile from my grandparents' house.

When I was a young adult an article appeared in the local paper about the “Bigfoot” stories of our neighborhood.

All this occurred in our neighborhood around Collins Avenue, right before the bridge at the bottom of the hill. Back then the area was still pretty rural.

*1965-66 a young couple was parked after their date. They saw a huge creature outside the windows of the car. It was walking upright and could not possibly be human, or any animal they knew of. They told friends and family about their encounter. No one believed them. But, they were steadfast about what they saw.

*early 1970s- a married couple were walking late at night. They saw something at the tree line. Thought it was an animal. It seemed to follow them, taking care to stay slightly hidden. The clouds shifted and they see the creature. It is covered in dark, glossy hair. The creature walked upright with long, graceful strides. When the couple moved toward it, the creature ran into the woods.

*A local man told a policeman that he had seen “Big Foot” in the woods two or three times. The policeman decide to see if he could find anything. No luck for several nights. Then he found a footprint. Too large to be human. Looked like a scuba diving fin with toes. The stakeouts continued. The policeman said he has never seen anything. But, he heard something. It was growling, snorting low rumble.

The day the article appeared my brother and I talked about it all day. We shared all the stories we had heard about “The Monster”. We scared ourselves pretty well and enjoyed ourselves immensely.

My husband was working late. Probably about 10 or 11 pm my brother and I heard a god-awful racket outside, sounded like something scraping against the side of the trailer. We were terrified, convinced that “ Green Eyes” had come to get us because we were talking about him. My husband arrived home a little while later. He found my brother and me scared to death and clutching baseball bats for protection.

I hope the kids that live in our old neighborhood have heard the stories and think twice about being outside after dark. Especially on a moonless night.

Don't tell abuse victims

 This is still relevant... We are fine..but, don't ever tell abuse victims that they should take care of the abuser. It took years to get out and stay out. But, we still run into people that say we should go back and take care of the monster. Hell no! Don't ask an abuse victim to go back into the situation. If the abuser has fallen on hard times it's their responsibility to make their life better. The victim usually spent months/years and all their energy trying to fix the abuser. It is so hard to leave an abuser. It takes a long time to gather the will to leave and decide that we deserve better. The abuse has taken its toll, physically and mentally. Possessions and friendships had to be left behind. We have left behind everything we worked so hard for. Worse is the fact that our self-respect is gone. It takes so long to get the spiderwebs out of our minds. The self-doubt the abuser put there takes a long time to get over. Some damage will never be repaired. Realizing that people are willing to accept the lies about you is hard. But, it is better to cut those people out of your life. If you are so worried about the abuser YOU take care of them. You have no idea of the hell we have been through. What's worse are the people that know of the abuse and excuse it. Even if we were wrong sometimes nothing excuses the torture we were put through. We do not have to justify ourselves to anyone. Remember this, an unreasonable person can't be reasoned with. A person can only be helped if they really want help. Some people enjoy playing the victim.

This is even more relevant right now. We have someone that has been trying to make us go back to take care of the abuser. Not happening. I told the person they can take the abuser into their home and leave us alone.

Books!

 Hey! I'm going to talk about books. Whenever we visited my grandmother she had paperback novels crammed into every nook and cranny. I mainly remember Mary Stewart, She developed the Romantic Mystery genre. Her main characters were smart women who found themselves in sticky and dangerous situations. I remember The Ivy Tree well. I read it until the pages fell out. She also had lots of books by Victoria Holt and Phyllis Whitney. I've always loved the Romantic mysteries with occasional spooky stuff. I read anything I could get my hands on. My dad had a hardback compilation of old Popular Mechanics magazines. I read them over and over. We had a 30-volume set of gold-edged Encyclopedia Britannica. I just opened a random page and began reading. I read Dad's Matt Helm books, Travis McGee, Ian Fleming, Remo Williams, Alistair MacLean, and lots of espionage novels.

The next book that grabbed me and forced me to read it over and over was Lorna Doone. It's a historical romance with many villainous characters and others who come in to save the damsel who is badly in need of help. I still have the books somewhere. My dad appropriated it from his high school library. I read it for the first time when I was 10. At the same time, I came across Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen. This is another favorite.

Around this time I found The Gown of Glory. I really don't know why this book touched my soul so much. It was set in an 1881 small village. The book starts out with a young Calvinist preacher getting his first church. He and his new wife expect to move up to a bigger church anytime. This never happens. A wealthy young man stumbles across the small village and falls in love with the preacher's daughter. It was just a sweet book with an innocent feel.. I think it reminds me of my grandparents. My grandfather attended Mercer University and got a theology degree. Occasionally he preached. He always enjoyed battling the missionaries about religious history and doctrine. He was a good, kind-hearted person. Much like my grandmother.

Many of the early books I loved were set in Britain with adventurous heroines. I still prefer English mysteries and tv series.

As a kid, I loved fables, Pecos Bill, Paul Bunyan, and all the Dr. Dolittle books. I read all of them that the school library had. Louisa May Alcott was also a favorite. My mom subscribed to the Nancy Drew book club for me. Every month I got 2 books a month. I read all of Nancy’s adventures. I moved on to Trixie Belden, the Hardy Boys, and The Dana Girls. Once I became a teen my mom subscribed to the Romance book of the month club. Then Harlequin romance club.

As an adult, one of my greatest pleasures has always been to go to the library and check out the maximum amount of books. Agatha Christie, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. And any kind of mystery my small-town library had. I eventually moved on to other genres.

When got a job at our very small branch library I was in heaven. I read everything on the shelves. Didn't matter if it was something I was interested in or not. I just devoured it all. Histories about bands I didn't care about, humorous compilations, read all about Phenix City, Alabama. Man, you should look up the history of that town. Wooowhee.

And when our system joined the Statewide Library System I could get books from all over the state, and believe me. I did. I had pages of lists of books to borrow. It was a whole new world. I had the maximum 50 books checked out at all times. And the maximum 50 books on hold. I discovered noir, horror, good authors, bad authors, and authors who had great ideas but couldn't quite get them right.

I was very lucky. I had a group of patrons who trusted me to find books they would enjoy. It’s been over 10 years since I left my library. I occasionally see the obituary for one of my patrons, and it makes me sad. I remember our shared love of reading. I remember the stories they shared with me about their lives. I remember the friendship these wonderful people offered to me. I met some quirky, amazing, and wonderful people. I miss these people. I also met some pompous blow-hards. I don't miss them.

I researched genres that I didn't care about so that I could get books for my people.

Luckily the Young Adult books being published were really good. They connected to my readers. So many choices. The characters faced real-life problems. Divorce, homelessness, bad parents, drug use, sexual activity, sexual identity. Books that resonated with teens, not the picture-perfect books their parents wanted them to read. I tried to find books the kids wanted to read. Anything to ignite the fire in their soul. I checked out books from all over the state for my kids. I took their recommendations seriously. If my kids liked them I tried to get the books for my library.

Books gave me comfort and solace when I needed them. A refuge from the storms life threw at me. I learned about other cultures. I absorbed so much from reading. I didn't go to college. I would love a degree in literature or just a good liberal arts education. But, I have learned so much from my books. My college-educated colleagues were amazed at the things I knew. Things outside of my limited life experience. How do you know what an Au Pair is? Agatha Christie, of course. How did you hear about poutine? A novel of course. What's a Furry? How did you know that? You really don't want to know.

They respected my knowledge of books and let me be in charge of advising patrons on reading material. It was a true joy to talk books with people that loved to read. There was some major drama at the library. But, it was the best job I ever had. When I started this I thought I would recommend some books that resonated with me. But, that will have to wait.

Read a book. Find something that sets fire to your imagination.

Car Rider Lines and My Blood Pressure

 Hey! I”m Lola. I’m going to talk about whatever pops into my head. Don’t expect it to make sense.

Maybe I'll talk about my kids, life as a stay-at-home Grandma, and books that I love ( or hate), movies my oldest son has forced me to watch, Ahem Southland Tales. I know I’m going to talk about my lifelong love affair with books. Thanks to my Mom, Dad, and Grandmother. We usually didn’t live near a library. So, I had to read whatever was around. I read my Grandmother’s gothic mysteries, and my dad’s spy and espionage novels. Lots of Mary Stewart, Matt Helm, James Bond, Leon Uris, and various Harlequin Romances. 

Maybe I’ll talk about aliens, conspiracies, the “Shadow Government”, and other weird things. 

I enjoy Dr. Pepper, cats, and books. So, I think I’ve established my bonafides as a middle-aged, grey-headed Granny. Or as the kiddos call me, Nonni.

I ramble. Get used to it. If I say something wrong please let me know. I make mistakes. Lots of mistakes. But, I love my kids, grandkids, and the few friends who have stuck with me through some tough times. I love oddball people. They make life enjoyable. Who wants to be the same as everyone else?

So, let’s talk about the 1 thing that will make my blood boil. The school car rider line. People who do not follow proper car rider line etiquette anger me more than just about anything. The kids have heard more curse words due to the car rider line than anything else. You can ask my DIL, I fuss about people doing stupid and inconsiderate things in the car rider line more than anything. Many a night I’d start a story and DIL asked, “ Car rider line?” of course it was the car rider line. I have felt pure rage at the miscreants who wait until they are at the front of the line to make sure their kids have all their stuff, fix their hair, or stop to get OUT of the car and open the door to usher their precious child to the sidewalk. This holds up the 30 cars patiently (or in my case impatiently) waiting behind them. If all this needs to be done a parent is supposed to park in the other parking lot to take care of last-minute nonsense. I have told the kids that if I ever get my butt whipped it will be due to car ride line shenanigans. One day I will just blow my top because a repeat offender has stopped the entire car rider line for 5 minutes while she chats aimlessly with her BFF in the car next to her. I can tell if the person causing problems is a Grandma/Grandpa who has no idea how everything works. I give them a pass. We were all new to this at one time.

A car rider line that ones smoothly is a beautiful thing. Everyone drops off or picks up their kids quickly and it flows like a beautiful ballet. There aren’t unnecessary delays and everyone respects the line.

I have found a line that runs with military precision. There are about 12 staffers that work to make sure everything goes smoothly. The only problem I have seen is when a car breaks down. Now, that causes a mess. The line is a serpentine path to the front of the school. So, there is no escape. But, this also means there is no way for people to cut in line.

 

One day in Texas I became so enraged at a line cutter that I called the office and told them exactly what the line cutter did. The front office lady ( who I talked to frequently) was shocked at the person’s brazen behavior and we talked major trash about her. The procedure was to pull up to a designated line and wait. A line formed behind the 1st car. The line already had about 12 cars waiting. BAD BRAZEN MOM passed all of us on the left. She went past the 1st car and then backed up so she was the 1st car. She did this 2 days in a row. I blasted this offense all over the neighborhood Facebook group. I had pictures of her car and license plate but didn’t post them. Other parents joined in the cacophony of fury at bad car rider behavior. On the 3rd day, a policeman was waiting at the car rider line. I’m sure he was there to make sure Brazen Moms behaved and to protect her from a group of pissed-off moms. I guess someone told her of the outrage she was causing. For over a week either someone else picked up her kid or she used a different car.

I truly feel there is a special place in hell for the people who abuse the car rider line. Right there next to the people who lie about overdue library books.