Thursday, September 30, 2010


This afternoon Elijah, Braden and I walked along part of the trail that the Mormon Battalion walked. We were looking for branches of Pacific Oak because Braden has taken to teaching me how to whittle "magic wands". Yes. You read that correctly. Today we whittled manzanita wands and now we're going to work on making wands out of Pacific Oak. The manzanita wood is fun because it's beautifully colored and it's also called the Phoenix plant because of its ability to destroy itself in order to resurrect itself from its own debris. Impressive. The Pacific Oak along the Mormon Battalion trail is very very old and therefore, the wands would be fun because of their history. Yea...Braden and I are some kind of odd little soul mates.

As Braden worked on a branch, I found what at first I thought was a wee tee tiny snake. I called Elijah over and he said it was a lizard. He caught it (because he has no fear) and Braden (who is, apparently, an expert on EVERYTHING) said it was an "alligator lizard". He has had several. So, we all trudged back to the car along the trail, under the incredible clouds, and the lightening, next to the dry river bed, and I thought, "Wow, I'm in a lyric from an old 'America' song from the 70s"! Whodda thunk it?'s the alligator lizard-approximately 6 days old.


HUBS: How come the dogs always hang out by you?

ME: *shrug*

HUBS: No, really. I walk them and feed them and hold them, but they always go right back to where ever you are. Look. They're there next to you right now.

ME: Good taste?

HUBS: I'm being serious. Every day, they're THERE! They just love you.

ME: No really. Taste. They like the way I taste. They lick my ankles a lot.

Tuesday, September 28, 2010


A Pew Poll released its recent results on a survey of how much Americans know about religion. To quote, "...atheists, agnostics, Jews and Mormons outperformed Protestants and Roman Catholics in answering questions about major religions, while many respondents could not correctly give the most basic tenets of their own faiths."

Later on in the article, it states that Mormons scored highest in knowledge about Christianity. I'm not shocked about this. What I was shocked over was that people didn't know about their own faiths. I suppose I'm a little taken back because I'm used to people who are rather well versed about who they worship and how. I must run with a spiritual crew, even if we worship at different altars.

I went to the site and took the quiz. There were some tricky questions. For instance, I did NOT know (between two names of the three listed) who was associated with "The Great Awakening". I knew it wasn't Billy Graham, but I chose incorrectly. The results page of the quiz breaks it down by religion/education/gender/overall population/worship attendance/etc. It's actually quite interesting. I suggest you go to the link below, read the article, then take the quiz. It's only 15 questions. Or you can just go directly to the quiz:

Either way, I'm relatively certain you'll be intrigued by what you learn. And....I'M SO PLEASED MY FAMILY WAS REPRESENTED TWICE....Jews and Mormons....I'll get to heaven if I have to die trying....wait.....

Sunday, September 26, 2010


Today I visited a different ward. I know a couple of people that go there, but I didn't see them and they didn't know I was there. I followed a mother and her several young children through the parking lot and to the door. I figured they would know where to go, right? She let her children run ahead of her in the parking lot, which was busy with cars pulling in and pulling out. This is, and always has been, a sore spot with me. When all of my kids were little, everyone had a hand on them. No one was NOT connected to another-especially my crew. The boys were a little tangential (to be polite), so I had to always make sure we were touching one another so no one would dart out and get hurt. This mother's voice was so loud as she screamed to her kids, "CARS. WATCH OUT. LOOK WHERE YOU'RE RUNNING!" I had to keep my head down to keep from losing it because I couldn't watch.

As I entered the lobby, a small boy (one of HERS, it turns out) held the door for me and several other people. I was the last person into the lobby so I thanked him quietly and patted his shoulder. Apparently his mother (the really really loud mother) didn't see me thank him so from way across the lobby (remember, she doesn't travel with the rest of her clan, she mothers from a distance) she says very loudly (because she's quite practiced at it), "THANK YOU ETHAN!"

I was mortified. It implied that I didn't thank him. There were about 4 adults in the lobby at that moment and every one of them turned to look at her, then Ethan, then me. I saw it all. There was one particular man, about 6'4", older, who looked at me, but without judgment. He just witnessed everything. He may have known the woman and was aware of it, and if he attended that church regularly, he would have known that I was a stranger to everyone. But, I was still simply mortified. I couldn't go into that sacrament meeting like that. So I took off down the hallway looking for Ethan's mom.

The church is laid out in a circle type of configuration. I went most of the way around the circle before giving up. I even checked a restroom. Nothing. I finally went into the back of the chapel to get ready for taking the Sacrament and I heard her voice. I turned around and there was Ethan's mom. I left my purse and walked back to where she was sitting. I noticed she was alone, except for her kids. I sat down and said, "I heard you thank Ethan for holding the door for several of us in the lobby. It's important to me for you to know that I also thanked him and patted his shoulder when he held the door for me." Her countenance never changed. She said, "Yes, I'm teaching him the importance of doing that."

I realized then that she is just simply focused on surviving and maintaining whatever parenting skills she possesses, and that's fine. That's exactly what she's supposed to do. This isn't about my ego or feelings. She's dragging her kids to church, alone, (this week anyway, I don't know her circumstances). I've sat in the back of the chapel, alone, with four little kids, probably not dressed as nice as their peers, probably with an attitude a time or two. I was just doing the best I could and I'm certain I didn't do things like the other mothers. I didn't know the hymns. I didn't know how to do FHE's-I had to make them up. I didn't feel like I fit in anywhere, because I probably didn't. But I had my kids in sacrament. And they grew into nice adults who love their children. Five of my grndchildren are born in the covenant. Two of my children served missions. Not because of anything I did, but because they were in church, surrounded by good people who were good models for them.

So...I love you Ethan's mom. All is well. You rock. Just hold on to your kids in the parking lot.

Friday, September 24, 2010


Eddie Fisher...gone...just like that! Well, it took over 80 years and lots of booze and cigarettes, but still...GONE!, just like that....

The unframed photo of my son on my table is turned at an angle. It looks 3D, like he's standing on my table and he's 5" high. Unless.....

Dear Chuhuahua mix that runs unleased-Stay away from my shitzhu. Just because you're all BA and free, don't think you can date my dog.''

#2 Sure, you're the "bad boy" dog-wrong side of the tracks. You don't bag your poo, you don't live by rules. I've seen you eat birds. STAY!

#3 But my girl is innocent. My shitzhu is used to a better, nicer boy. Think of her future. And quit peeing on my steps, what the heck!

#4 And Chihuahua, it would never work with U & Shitzhu. U couldn't provide 4 her. You're BA in the yard, she's a bitch 24/7. Save yourself.

My dog just tried to eat a light bulb. It was all that remained of the last good idea she had.

I decorated my balcony-tried to make it look "homey" with a lantern, dried flowers & straw hat-turns out it just looks really flammable.

Dear book-in-my-car. Please levitate urself up here 2 the apt. I'm tired. Do U hear me? Now! ok-NOW!-NOW...whatev-don't feel like it N E way

Okay mourning-dove, we get it, you're sad & annoyingly loud & consistent. Try nesting close to therapy-dove & see if that helps.

Yes, mourning-dove. Again with the relentless cooing. I'm certain there's a nest of support doves in that tree across the park...way across

Mourning-dove, while its true you have suffered loss, U seem to now define urself as a victim. Stop, or I'll get all Rush Limbaughy on you.

(on my rapidly advancing hearing loss) My ears are not going quietly into that good night. If they had hands, they would grab onto sound waves and leaving scratch marks.

Dear "Hunger Games Trilogy", Thanks for making me keenly aware of food in my pantry and the fact that I'll never kill anyone on television.

And one of my favorite retweets from a girl I follow....

JoyPlaza i just found the sad remains of a houseplant i could've sworn i threw out years ago. but sure, i'd love to watch your kids.

Tuesday, September 21, 2010


I was listening to a lecture by Steven Johnson on TED. He has a new book out called, "Where Good Ideas Come From". He showed a photograph of the first coffee house (circa 1650) in England. It opened at the beginning of "The Age of Enlightenment", a time when great ideas spewed forth. He gave a great explanation for the timing of the coffee house and the age of enlightenment. Up until the time of the coffee house, the water wasn't potable. The only beverages available for drinking were alcoholic. Wine in the morning, beer with meals, gin and more wine in the evening. When coffee (and tea) was brewed and made drinkable, this coffee house opened and people gathered there in a huge, chaotic mass. And guess what? They weren't smashed!!!

Coherent, creative and brilliant ideas flowed with the non-alcoholic drinks! Mr. Johnson claimed little wonder at the exchange of ideas on architecture, politics, religion and so on, by bright, sober minds at what history has come to call the age of enlightenment.

He discussed something else interesting. He talked about the launch of Sputnik way back in the day. The Russians had done it! They had placed a satellite in orbit. Meanwhile, back at the Applied Physics Laboratory of Johns Hopkins University located in Laurel, Maryland, a bunch of cute (I'm certain) geeks were sitting around discussing the geekiness of it all and loving it. A couple of them, while sitting in the cafeteria (probably not too different from that chaotic, idea-passing coffee house in 1650 London) wondered if they could hear the satellite. Obviously it was making a noise...they wondered if they could find it. So, they asked their coworkers and they said they hadn't thought of doing it, but it sounded interesting so lets try it! So, Geyer and Weisenbach (that were their names) go to Weisenbach's office to play around with his stuff. Weisenbach is a "microwave" they "microwaved" their way through the atmosphere in search of a sound. They found the bleeps and started to record their time stamps...I suppose that's what you would do..whatever that would do it.

Now they're wondering if they can track the location of that satellite based on its beeps and time stamps. So, they went to their offices, Geyer and Weisenbach, and by using the Doppler effect relative to their own location, they could discern its trajectory and figure out its orbit and location at any given time. Sure enough, they did. Not long after that, they were called in by their boss. He said he had heard that they were playing around with the beeps of Sputnik and could locate a moving location in space from their fixed location at the APL in Maryland. They said, "sure" and he asked them if they could "reverse" it? Could they locate a fixed location on the ground from the satellite? So they went back to their offices and sure enough, they could do that. In fact, it was even easier to find something on the ground from a satellite than it was to find the satellite from the ground!

That was good, said their boss, because he had just built an entire fleet of nuclear submarines and it was difficult to put a missile in downtown Moscow when you didn't know where your sub was. And THAT, is how GPS was born.

"The same GPS that your cell phone may have used to find the nearest coffee shop", Mr. Johnson goes round and round and round.

The point being, intellectual property is typically "protected" and hidden, when in fact, it needs to be shared and built upon, so that we all benefit. Mr. Johnson ended his talk with this quote, "Chance favors the connected mind".

Monday, September 20, 2010


On Saturday, as I was driving along the 15 South, I noticed two cop cars sitting on the side of the road (my side). They appeared to be talking to each other while in their cars. That's just how it appeared. It was a "big" shoulder. So, I was in the far right lane but...just kept driving because, why wouldn't I, right?

As I passed them, in a matter of about 2 seconds, one of the cruisers pulls out and begins to travel behind me. I thought, "okay"....because I'm a child of the 70s and that stuff still gets under my feathers....

I thought, "no current tickets, my tags aren't expired and while the actual little sticker is missing, it's a matter of record that I paid for it and I'm registered so no harm, no foul...but still...what's the problem...?"

And then he starts maneuvering like he's "hiding" or acting covert. I'm all, "?", but I kept driving without changing my speed...or lane....still in the right hand lane....

He speeds up (OVERTLY), then gets behind a white pick-up truck in the lane to my left and behind close behind pick up guy-then swerves to the lane behind me, then swerves back behind the white pick up. It was ridiculous. I thought, "maybe he's a new recruit and he's practicing his 'skillz' or something"...for real, I actually considered that.

This kept up for several miles. By this time, I was sweaty. The poor white pick up guy swerved over and exited...leaving me and Super Trooper on this now lonely stretch of 56 West because yes, he exited with me from the 15 and followed me toward the 5 South to LaJolla. What the freak? How far does his jurisdiction go? What kind of profile do I match? My car is a 5 year old SUV. I'm a little old blond lady with nerdy glasses...for real? there a gang of elderly Mormon car thieves hitting up San Diego County?

Fortunately (or unfortunately, depending on your perspective), there was fender bender on the east bound lane so he finally exited and got on the over pass to see what good he could do there.

My guess? Super slow Saturday......

Saturday, September 18, 2010


Above is my bedroom. There are still some rough places, but I'm almost finished. My design "challenge" was to redecorate without buying anything and not spending a dime. I figured that out after I did it. Yea, don't go down that rabbit hole. You'll need a time machine and a psychiatrist. Basically, our room was a storage facility with floor to ceiling boxes. Hideous boxes. The worst part was, the boxes weren't even mine, they were the hubs. And now they're gone. Well, they're in another bedroom, but not the one where I spend most of my time in. Yay! Also, I discovered that I'm a skosh Bohemian.
Above is the shelf I designed. Actually, it's a piece of very old wood from an antique armoire that Peter disassembled. It's way over 100 years old and the individual pieces are quite lovely, but it's a behemoth and not for our room. Anyway, I took this piece of wood, found some lovely old books of mine from about 20 years ago and made a shelf out of it for my attached bathroom. I loved the extra space it gave me and I thought it was creative problem solving. Ouch! Cramp in my upper arm from patting myself on the back...
Other angle to see the detail of the old wood....
Then I used those hooks that you put over doors for towels and robes and I placed my necklaces and bracelets on it. It's right by my closet in my "getting ready" space, so it works perfectly.
Close up detail. Plus I like shiny things. The bracelets are on the top hooks and the necklaces are along the bottom hooks.
Here's the "working" corner of the room. How nice that I left the Dew on the "table" I made out of stored water containers. That's an old quilt covering them, but they made a nice table for my Mac and printer. The "seat" is actually the foot rest for my papasan chair in the living room. The table is an old table we've had for awhile. The white clothes underneath were made by hand by a physician I used to work for. There's lots of hand stitching. The silk scarves on top are pure silk from China and were gifts from my daughter, Emmy, about 5 years ago. The baskets next to it are old baskets I've had for years.
Details of the table top. Everything in here is definitely for function, but I did cave on this. It's purely sentimental. The candles are romantic, that's my momma, the record is something my dad wrote and recorded for the love of his life, (my momma), and it may be difficult to see, but my wee tee tiny white cast iron pig with wings is on the table. This little inspiration tells me that I WILL get my doctorate...I WILL!!!!
The record....
My dresser/night stand. I also got this from the physician I worked with (that made the tablecloths). She is a pathologist. The top of this is all broken china dishes. Beautiful.
Detail of top of dresser.
This is my favorite picture of all...detail of the lamp with the pale blue silk scarf over it. It's also cast iron-ish with crystal droplets hanging off the shade. I giggle when I look at this room. No one bothered me. I got to do whatever I wanted. No influence. No nuttin. All me. Only took a little over 5 decades....


Thursday, September 16, 2010


They look dead. They're not. They're just sleeping. Ever sleeping. At my feet. Always and forever...where ever I am, there they are. So I thought I would snap a pic of the two of them, Tink and Boo, right there next to my chair. Loyal, not dead.

Wednesday, September 15, 2010


I woke up, because basically it's something I do every morning, and I thought about my morning regimen. I typically don't leave my room until the bed is made and I'm showered, dressed, and have make-up on. Yes, there is a bath in this master bedroom I inhabit. I feel I am psychologically ready for the day if I walk into the rest of my house "prepared" like that. I virtually never leave my bedroom in my pajamas or with bedhead. Not because I'm vain, but it messes with my own space/time continuum of energy and focus.

This reminded me of when I was growing up in our little suburb of Columbus, Ohio. No one had more than one bathroom. Even though all the houses had three bedrooms, not one family in the neighborhhood had more than one bath. It was located at the end of the hall. We all had to share. Even my parents used that bathroom. I remember seeing my father's shaving paraphernalia in the medicine chest (I believe that's what it was called in our day). I remember seeing my mother's "cold cream" (and I still don't understand why it was called that). I remember how it smelled (flowery) and that it was pale pink and pretty. I remember my sister's Bonnie Bell products were in there for her adolescent skin. The only thing my brother and I had were toothbrushes. That was all we needed. Mom kept our Flintstone vitamins in the kitchen cupboard along with the aspirin. I still do this, as do my daughters....

That said, because there was only one bathroom, this forced us to leave our rooms and congregate in the dining room or living room in various conditions of dress. We still have pictures somewhere of my bro and I in full pajama-wear on the day after Christmas. He was witnessing me receiving a birthday present-which that year was bigger than usual. We had hideous bed-head and my brother had his typical bed-face-swollen eyes, etc. He was 11. I was now 12 and a year older than him. That was the best gift, we were no longer the same age. We're less than a year apart so during a portion of December, he was annoying as all get out.

Anyway, what I'm getting at is as architecture and housing design became more modernized, we compartmentalized our families. I have noticed that my daughter and her husband's master bedroom is a place where the kids shower and play on their bed-so I think that normalizes things there. But otherwise, it's easy to create borders. On the other hand, maybe kids needs their own space for those things. Maybe they like decorating their own bathroom, having just their "stuff" there.

I don't have an answer, I'm just comparing time and culture to now...because I'm old and have more life experience so I get to do that stuff....I'm just thinking of my own medicine cabinet and wish I could see my dad's razor and my mom's Ponds and some Bonnie Bell...

Or maybe I'm just killing time before I get out of this bed and start the day.....

Tuesday, September 14, 2010


There's a new show coming out this fall about a regular, normal-type family that takes a vacation to a rain forest, experiences turbulence on their flight, and returns with super powers. Thus they return to their home as super heroes. One of the characters, I believe it is the adolescent daughter, has the new ability to hear peoples' thoughts. She's psychic. She goes to her mother with this information and her mother explains what being "psychic"means. She can now hear what everyone around her is thinking. I considered this. What if, on any given day, I heard voices and assumed they were coming from the people around me? What would I do? I COULD go to my mother, but it would end up a rather idiotic post because my mother loves me dearly and she would say, "Really? Come to mah jong with me and tell me what everyone is thinking then let's go to lunch and talk about it". Mom would totally use it for its fullest entertainment value. I, on the other hand....not so much.

If I seriously thought I could hear disembodied voices coming from peoples' heads, I would speak with a physician and a psychologist. I would want an MRI, and x-ray, and a CT scan. I wouldn't think I was psychic, I would think I had an acoustic tumor or a brain tumor (if I was lucky), or (if I was unlucky) I was experiencing a psychotic break.

I guess that's the difference between real world and Hollyworld. I would get a bill from a doctor, and they would get a cape.


Monday, September 13, 2010



ME: Hello?

CLARKIE *3 yr old grandson*: Is soda good for me?

ME: * I know Mommy is there because I can hear her translating the question...I need context sometimes) No it's not.

CLARKIE: Ohhhhhhh *in a crying kind of way*

ME: Clarkie, soda isn't good. But! If you drink juice and water, you can be smart like Daddy and kind like Mommy.


CLARKIE: Mommy, can I have some apple juice?



Does anyone ever dream or think about "the good old days?" Nostalgia is alive and well. In a recent study at the University of Southampton in England, 79% of the 172 subjects surveyed admitted to having nostalgic thoughts at least once a week and 16% reported experiencing nostalgia once a day! There is a growing body of research on the subject that is looking at the benefits of nostalgia. The HEALTHFUL benefits...what other kind of benefits are there? According to the July/August issue of Scientific American Mind magazine, the term "nostalgia" is derived "from the Greek words nostos ("return") and algos ("pain"), so that nostalgia means, literally, the suffering that results from a desire for return-to a place, to a time, to a way of life." It also was once referred to as "immigrant psychosis"...nice, but in hindsight understandable.

Finally, in 1979, sociologist Fred Davis discerned that words such as "warm", "old times", and "childhood" were being associated with nostalgia. A survey in 2006 yielded results that demonstrated that nostalgia is a "specific form of autobiographic memory; most people give themselves the starring role in nostalgic flashbacks. These glances back often focus on relationships; a third of nostalgic thoughts involve other people. And nostalgic memories quite often feature a so-called redemptive theme or master sequence-a story line that begins with a bad experience out of which something good ensures."

I'm out of the loop on this. My nostalgia involves clips (little videos) that play in my head. They involve drinking out of the hose on a hot day; watching my grand mother laugh so hard that her belly shook, her toothless mouth was open, and her corn cob pipe was held high; the clink of glasses at my parents' cocktails parties; Christmas morning-the first few moments (the sensory overload and the smiles on my dad and sister's faces) of it, just little short bursts of video. I remember mastering riding a bike, and being forced off of the diving board and then loving it.

I'm interested in others' tales of nostalgia. Does anyone match the findings described in the research? You can answer anonymously if you wish or you can share openly. I'm just curious is all.

Much love.

The geek in the glasses.

Saturday, September 11, 2010


Okay, so school's back. Annddd...Imma little out of shape-IQ wise. I took the summer off and yowsa. If you don't use it, you lose it. So as I was doing my home work, I looked at my study area and this is what I saw...that's my IPod, my current and prior texts books (prior books are a good source of references for my homework), tylenol, a huge container of Mt. Dew, and my cell phone. If you scroll down to the next pic, it was my actual shopping cart from the day before...breakfast of champions...and by champions, I mean future cardiac patients....CIAO!

Tuesday, September 7, 2010


This is at Mom's house. We were chasing 2 different balloons, I think, and we kept it up for about 30 minutes. Eli and Abby stayed on the couch and babies ran around them and over them and through them. It was adorable...
I remember what's it like to be Daddy's's the best...this photo made my heart sing.
Charlie has the most soulful expressions of any 5 people I know....put together, enlarged, and magnified...they can't outdo the Charlie Boy.
Hi Charlie Boy....What? You want me over there? Sure...whatever you say....
Abby's face...eternal motherhood...that's all I see.....
That's me and my wittie bittie boys. Sure. They never even started off wittie bittie. But let me tell you, that spot, right there between those big boys, is the safest I'll ever be. :)
Me and the babies...this is what my face will look like if I make it to the Celestial Kingdom...
Charlie loves all appliances (I assume), but he adores my phone because he appears to connect to the internet each and every time he gets it. It's uncanny. I can't even do it.
I don't know what happened here, but somebody had to fix it...NOW...that face could break anyone's heart...look at it! It makes me want to put bleach in my eyes to get the image out....
"You can't see me!!!"

Sunday, September 5, 2010


Sometimes Peter does things that I can't explain. He's a New Englander, born and bred. He's stoic, pragmatic, practical, not given to whimsy or small talk. He's not a "mingler". He works with his hands. He's "salt of the earth". You know, THAT kind of guy. Getting the picture? So when his youngest sister recently gifted him with a huge, stuffed apparently female lobster with overly botoxed lips, he became rather enamored of it...defying all explanation. He brought it out in Columbus and insisted that we each have our picture taken with it. Not only our picture, but that we lovingly embrace it. Love the lobster....LOVE IT!!! And so I present....

Above is Peter "hiding" the lobster in a bedspread to "surprise" my brother, who was the first victim, sorry, recipient of the "love the lobster" campaign.
David little stunned....
But David, being the nice guy he is, embraced the lobster...nay, he "loved" the lobster..
Next came my sister. She loved the lobster, but not without a strangle hold around its lobster neck. She's nothing if not passive-aggressive....believe...I'm her "little" sister...I know....
Next came Eli....he was used to it by now...he had loved the lobster in Michigan and now in Ohio...he was getting used to inter-species affection...
This is my bro, David's family. Mary obediently embraced the lobster, which was approximately as tall as her. Look at David's face. He was enjoying this....much more than he should have....

This is my mother with the lobster. Notice the walker in the distance. Peter had strategically moved the walker out of the way so mother couldn't escape....of course, I may be wrong about that....possibly...but does it look to YOU like she can get away?....hmmmmm???

This is all of us loving the lobster. I think the lobster looks inebriated. For real. Look at it. And look at its lips. The fact that Peter likes this thing sooo much makes me wonder if I need to look at Botox a little harder....and maybe some red lipstick...and a sun lamp....and some more xanax....

Friday, September 3, 2010


Here's Eli with his Abbott cousins. They had a lot of fun together.
This is left to right on top: John Leighton, Peter, and Marti's husband. In front, Vicki Leighton, me (laughing because John said something funny at the worst possible time!!!) and Marti Abbot (Peter and John's sister).
Me composed at the 2nd shot.
John, Marti and Peter in a "cheeky" shot. I told them they would thank me later...they did....
Marty and Peter.
Me and my mother-in-law doing a dance.
Peter and his sister Eydie. He was playing a joke on her about bending his silly index finger.
Then he yelled "OUCH" really loud and scared her to death. Yea...he thought it was hysterical.
Peter, his mom, and I...look how cute she was in our "dancing" photo.
Grandma sharing family history with Elijah.

That's the photo update for inquiring minds.

Wednesday, September 1, 2010


I'm sitting here with my mother. It's 1:30 in the morning. She's having a snack. We're talking about the common housefly. This is what she just said to me...verbatim:

"You know, the other day, Billy and Bev was over (my cousin and his wife) and there was a fly buzzing all around us, just making us crazy. Tiffany (my niece) said, 'Oh, don't worry about that fly, Grandma, they only live for 24 hours and then they die'. I never heard tell a'such a thing. That durned fly irritated me forever. After three days I yelled at him, 'Hell with ya! You're name's Alfred. You're a pet now!"