When The Thunder Rolls and The Lightning Strikes...Carter Style

   Weird events, often found left of the center line of normal,  happen frequently in our home. At least the oddball occurrence's seem unusual to me. However, this is my opinion...I could be wrong.

   I am sure in every family, at one time or another, the man of the family shoots a possum in the laundry room. The shooting happened  a few minutes before he rushed out the door, around 10:30 at night, to go to work.   On his way out the door he yelled, " I had to shoot a possum in the laundry room. Don't worry about the mess. I will clean it up in the morning."  Sounded normal to me.

  Our youngest daughter, Melodi, knocked on my bedroom door and said, " By any chance did Dad just shoot something in our laundry room?"

   "Why yes he did darlin'...it was a possum...he will take care of it in the morning. Now go back to sleep and don't worry.  Everything is fine." This was the best motherly advice I could give on the spur of the moment. What followed were several rounds of belly laughter accompanied by every crazy story we could remember.  Melodi crawled in bed with me and we laughed until we cried. I am sure this is a common mother and daughter bonding moment in many homes across America; if not it should be. There are times when life is down right funny.

   The only room in our home to catch fire was the bathroom.  I did not think this was funny or unusual, until Lisa's boyfriend brought this fact to our attention. If memory serves me right, he tried to say, while laughing out loud in the school's lunch room, "No one has their bathroom catch on fire!  It is always some other room. Honestly sweetheart, you have the oddest family I have ever known."  Hmmm...I am thrilled Lisa did not marry 'sweetheart'.  I am sure thousands of families have had their bathroom almost burn down on the coldest, snow covered, meanest night of winter.. silly boy.

    There are too many instances to write down. We have been married 45 years and each year has had its share of peculiarities.  Last Saturday night, we may have reached an all time high  in our home. The year isn't over yet so one never knows for sure.

    It rained and stormed Saturday night, at times the thunder shook our home. In the early morning hours the storm raged, lightning struck our phone line and knocked out the service.  Tommy and I heard the storms romping through our dreams, in the distant depths of our sleep. We forgot our dogs were outside, sleeping in the garage. As a rule, they sleep in the house. Our grandkids had spent the past two nights with us and the dogs slept on blankets in the garage while Jacy and Logan were here.

   I woke up around 6:30 a.m.  I was surprised to see our German shepherd, Sabella, in the house and soaking wet. I figured Tommy woke up during the night and let her in. Sandy, our lab, is deaf and would not know it stormed until she woke up the next morning and stepped in little rivers of water and mud in our driveway.  She would be surprised as she waddled to the back door.

   I made coffee and proceeded to dry Sabella off with three large towels. She was soaked. About this time, Tommy woke up, walks down the hall and sees Sabella.  I asked him what time he let her inside. Tommy informed me he did not let her in. We looked at each other and at the back door. It was still locked. Words failed.  We had not had enough coffee yet to figure out much of anything.

   We were on our second cup of coffee when I noticed the coffee table in front of our living room window was messed up; a few of the books were in the floor and the lamp shade was crooked .  I remember saying, "Man, the winds must have really gotten rough to blow things around like that. Shhhh, what a mess!"  About that time, Tommy sees a rip in the screen. It was about a foot long and at least eighteen inches above the table.  It was closed so I did not notice it from across the room.

   Both of us got up to check out the screen. Sabella walked into the kitchen far away from the window.  She thought she was in TROUBLE. We understand Sabella. Our fearless dog is terrified of storms. She wanted in her house.  Her humans were asleep with the door locked, so she took matters into her own paws. She climbed up on the temporary patio I have in front of the living room window, climbed in the biggest pot of yellow daisies growing under the window and clawed the screen until there was a rip wide enough for her to get her head through. Once the head was through, everything else followed. It sort of reminded me of giving birth...

   I wasn't convinced 100% this was what happened. The more we talked about it...the more sense it made.  The first time it thunders or lightning flashes, Sabella  finds a place to hide. It does not matter to her that  she is safe and dry, in our home and we are within arms reach. To be caught outside in a storm must have been a horrible experience for her.  I am sure she was frightened beyond barks.  Also after Tommy and I got up she was afraid she was in trouble for the mess she made.  It started to rain again and she ran and hid.  Sabella wasn't in trouble. I remember last week when a black snake was lying across my patio table.  If I had been outside and the door was locked, I hate to think what I would have done.

   All of these weird memories  make up a huge portion of our lives. It is seldom boring at the Carter home.  On the rare occasion it does get boring, we go somewhere or sit around telling all the stories of the "do you remember?" sort.  It always helps to have a back up plan.

  


  

Politics Suck...

   I have kept my mouth shut about as long as I can.  It is time to bring out the red rubber nose and get on my political soapbox.  I am not a politician. I am one woman, in America, among thousands who hate the direction our country has taken. Never once did I believe our men and women in the armed services would be at risk because of terrorism in our own country. It is appalling to think this can actually happen but it does...and did.

   I 've been cautioned, more than once, 'writers should keep their opinions to themselves if they ever want to sell books.' That may be true, although in my case, keeping quiet is selling out for something that may or may not happen.  Heaven forbid we piss off anyone in this country or any part of the world for that matter. If I never hear the words, 'Political Correctness' again, it will be one day too soon. I can no longer be quiet.  Terrible things are going on in our country and the world, in the name of 'political correctness.'  Now is the time to speak up and shout against the idiots trying their best to ruin what is left of the USA.

   I have lost all faith in most of our elected and appointed officials. Reason and logic has left the White House, Senate and the House of Representatives. I am not sure it ever lived in the Supreme Court. As I write this, conscious decisions  have been made that are detrimental to the safety of the United States, Israel and the Middle East in general. As John Kerry was negotiating  the Iranian Nuclear agreement, Iranian people were shouting in the streets, "Death to the United States and Death to Israel." Iran is holding 4 American  men hostage and not one word was mentioned about their release in the deal. Why??? Why sign any agreement with a country that openly says it wants us dead?  Where is the logic in the Iranian deal ???

   I cannot fathom why anyone would think Iran will keep any part of this agreement. Iran wants nuclear weapons and we released the money while allowing  time to achieve their desires.  To the people who think Iran deserves a chance to prove many countries wrong; I have this to say, tonight when you get ready for bed put a 5 foot rattlesnake in your bed. Lay down beside it,  turn out the lights and try and get a good nights sleep... for the next eight hours, you mentally  traded places with Israel...now you know  how it feels to wonder if you will wake up in the morning. If you keep the snake in your  bed long enough, one day you will not wake up.

Trying to Educate Vicky Carter...Again

   Today, I am the reasonable facsimile of a 'happy camper'. For the past year I have mentally kicked around the idea of taking a few writing courses on line. I need the knowledge for sure, however I am not positive the cost of the classes balances my need for knowledge.  I had my chance for a college education and I threw it away.  It was my first taste of freedom and I liked the menu. The only thing I can remember learning in college was, 'Christopher Columbus died of syphilis.'  For that tidbit my parents paid two thousand dollars...and I would not swear the statement is the truth. My Early American History class was taught by a wonderful man from Russia. I loved his class, although I only understood about every third word the man spoke.  Christopher Columbus' sex life happens to be one of the things I think I understood. I know it made an impression on me.

    I married Tommy halfway through my Junior year of college and I have never, ever been sorry. I would do it all again tomorrow. My mind was everywhere but on higher education. I made the right choice for me then. Now I wish those few years I was in college, I had taken Creative Writing and English classes, instead of  classes I do not remember attending...if I did.   I need now what I missed learning then.  I also had no clue what the future held. Nor did I know all the stories I had in my imagination would someday want to appear on paper. The thought of retiring and becoming a writer, never once entered my mind when I was twenty years old.

   Since retirement,  I purchased a ton of 'writing how to books'.  I've read a huge portion of  my collection.  I am hoping the rest of the books will be absorbed by osmosis. If not by osmosis, then there is always a chance I will live long enough to finish the stack by my chair., my desk, my bed and the kitchen table not to mention the bathtub.  Next to Tommy, Amazon is my best friend. We are on a first name basis...they know where I live.

    I  read off and on all day long.  If  I lived alone, I would probably read and write all of the time. I could possibly be one of those old ladies who lives alone with a couple of cats, a dog and a shotgun, daring someone to bother me, while I write the next imaginary best seller.  Ironically,  I married a non reader. Tommy doesn't give a flip about reading and never has.  It hasn't been a problem in our marriage. He doesn't read and I do not hunt.  We accept that we are two different people and we each do pretty much what we want to do.  In fact, if I told him I wanted to take several online classes; he would say, "If that is what you want to do...then do it." I am not telling him what I have been thinking about.  Instead, I started my own program entitled, "Trying to Educate Vicky Carter...Again".  It is a simple program consisting of several on line writing groups I joined; accompanied by a host of writing blogs I touch base with daily. One of the best blogs I follow is Susan Finlay's, "Writing  and Publishing Tips From Authors Around the World".  It is authors helping authors by sharing tips they use in their professional careers. I also discovered Tom Winton on this site. I am now a fan of both Tom and Susan's books. I believe all writers benefit from reading the works of great  authors.

    Another option I tackled was joining  the "Writer's Circle" group on facebook.  This group offers basic writing tools and information.  Anyone can benefit from  reading and studying their fact sheets. Since I am a 'comma whore', I revel in the "Rules for Using Comma's".  I've never encountered  a comma I did not want to use and use and abuse.  I need the  basic common sense truths to read  and reread  as I write.  Most of the truths I am learning, I knew at one time.  Over the years of nonuse,  these truths relaxed on a dusty, cluttered shelf in my memory and remain hidden. I will either find them or learn them again. If my mind is anything like my closet, it would be better to start over. My will and desire to learn comes from many people and places. T.K. Carter my middle  daughter is a published author. She  has helped and encouraged me from the beginning. Tami is often my sounding board when I need someone to listen to my ideas.

   I discovered I am in need of  a writing partner. I really want  Nalini Mohammad. However, she lives in Trinidad,  has a job and is about to be married. Nalini's plate is full.  I need someone who lives close to  my area.  A person I can meet and trade writing ideas; critique each others work and not be offended.   Once again, I miss Carol Shea. She always read my work. She had no problem being honest either. Honesty is what I need,  plus the help of a struggling writer who understands the joy and crap that goes with writing.  A new best friend would be great but not necessary. I think I need a proofreader with the heart of a serial killer when it comes to editing.  Several ideas are  beginning to form a new system for writing; rearranging this--deleting that, changing old habits and creating new habits.   Discipline  has stepped to the forefront and increased his demands.

   School is about to begin at the Carter house...again.

The First Four Days of July Were Horrible...

   The first four days of July were absolutely, no doubt about it, horrible. I knew I had made a childhood mistake when I woke up on July 1st and did not utter the words that often control my imaginary fate, "Rabbit, Rabbit". I simply forgot about the old habit.  I am surprised this little quirk is still stuck in my brain after sixty years,  but it has never left.  In fact I think it is pretty safe to say; my mind is stocked full of useless information I have collected over the years. From time to time, I use this junk  when I write stories or my blog. That makes it not a total loss...but close.

  Supposedly uttering the words, "rabbit, rabbit" as soon as my eyes open,  on the first day of a new month, will ensure 'good luck' for the month. This bright idea originated with a group of little girls I spent recess with in grade school. We had a club and this was part of our rules.  Why it is stuck in my brain I do not know, since I can't remember who the little girls were in our club.  What is even more unbelievable is that sixty some odd years later I still do this little ritual. I seldom forget it and when I do---something always happens. Now in reality, I know all of this 'stuff' would have happened whether I said, 'Rabbit, Rabbit' or not.  However, I am always amazed by the events that occur. This July was my worst 'rabbit' non saying month in recent history.

   It was a good day until late in the afternoon. The skies turned dark and restless.  Low thunder could be heard rumbling in the north and to the west. This was nothing unusual. June turned out to be the wettest month in 120 years. Water was out everywhere. The predictions for July were resembling the forecasts for June.  The ground was saturated with all the water it could hold. The smell of rotten soil assaulted  the air.  I had walked outside to refill my hummingbird feeders and to check my flowers.  The birds were fed and as I scanned the flower beds I spotted the fattest black snake I have ever seen.  It  was at least six feet long and three inches in width.   All I could think of to do was run like the wind yelling for Tommy. I HATE SNAKES...alive or dead!!! Tommy came to my rescue, scaring the snake off. Tommy assured me the snake was long gone. I knew better than that!  Tommy suggested we go for a ride and maybe buy an ice cream cone in Fulton. He wanted to get me away from the house and the snake.  I told him I thought it might storm and his exact words were, "So what!!  It has stormed for over 30 days--what else is new??" Off we drove in search of ice cream and some peace of mind. In hindsight, we had the worse plan ever for 'peace of mind'.

   We jumped  in the truck and drove west down our gravel road. Three miles later, we arrived at a STOP sign and I had to decide which way to go. I looked right, toward Williamsburg .  The sky was black, I suggested we go left since it looked like Williamsburg was getting a heck of a storm.  We drove  about ten miles. I looked in the rear view mirror and spied the storm clouds chasing us. Tommy turned on the radio.  We listened as the disk jockey discussed out fate. Tornado warnings were issued for us in every direction. The winds were getting stronger.  We literally had no where to go.  The Missouri River was to the east,  about a home run length from our truck. The tornado was behind us.  Fulton was to our West and another storm had just hit Fulton.  We could hear tornado sirens going off either in Reform or Fulton.  We kept driving. The announcer repeatedly said "If you are in a vehicle...seek shelter." We literally had nowhere to go. We drove away from the river and toward Fulton, taking our chances that the storm would continue to follow the river and hoping the storm in Fulton would be over by the time we got there. I usually enjoy a good storm, taking photos as it romps and gyrates outside our windows.  Today was a little too close for comfort. I always want a Plan B to fall back on and today there was no plan B.

                                                  

 We drove home between storms, totally forgetting about the ice cream. The announcer was giving us a blow by blow account of the storm. It sounded like Williamsburg was getting stomped. My eyes filled with fear and tears. There wasn't one thing I could do about any of this. We threw a blanket prayer up for everyone and for us and kept on driving. The strength of the storm was beginning to recede as we pulled into our driveway. Everything appeared to be tangled and wet but  untouched.  We raced inside to turn on the t.v. and continue to watch the storm from the comfort of our home. It was a long night.  Too much excitement had happened for us to be able to relax enough to go to sleep at a reasonable hour.

 
   The next morning we were drinking coffee in the living room as we watched the weather channel. I glanced out the window and I will be darn if that black snake wasn't stretched out across my table outside. I really thought I would puke!  Tommy ran outside and proceeded to 'relocate' the snake. She is gone this time...hopefully for good and forever. That day was another long, long day with more storms to occur.


             

  
When the 4th of July rolled around my dog, Sandy, was feeling horrible. If Sandy were a person she would be 97 years old. Most of her time is spent sleeping.  On days when she does not feel good, she stays close to me--more so than usual.  That day I had a feeling Sandy might die. She had a pitiful look in her eyes. She moved very little.  I watched her most of the day.  Later Tami called and invited us up to watch the Centralia fireworks display. We had a great time, still the thoughts of Sandy were in the back of my mind all night. When I got home, Sandy was still alive and feeling better. She met us at the back door. The thought of giving her up really hurts my heart. I don't think we are ever ready to give up a family member.

    Whenever August 1st rolls around, I will hopefully remember to whisper, "Rabbit, Rabbit'. Such are the ramblings of a third grader's plans...many, many years later...one can only smile and hope.


                                                              

Ice Cream...Penguin Style

    Centralia, Missouri is the most kid friendly small town I have ever visited.  I am delighted my grandchildren live in such a nice, family oriented place.  About two weeks ago, Tommy and I stayed with Jacy and Logan while Tami attended a book convention in Nashville, Tenn. It was a busy, fun time for all four of us. The one name that kept coming up was "The Penguin Place". This place was mentioned every time we made plans to dine out.  Finally, on our last night there we made a trip to "The Penguin Place".  It was everything the kids said it would be and then some.

    When we walked in the store,  our eyes were bombarded with the brightest garden of colors this side of Oz...and we loved it.  After stepping inside the door,  we knew we were going to have a good time. The day had been humid and at times filled with rain, stepping inside the ice cream parlor the temperature immediately dropped by twenty degrees. I was in heaven. Tommy and I had never visited a shop like this one. The store looked, felt and smelled delicious. The four of us walked up and down the isle reading all the choices. We could also sample any ice cream for free.  We had 21 flavors of yogurt, gelato, and custard to make our combinations.  We also had 38 toppings to pick and choose. We could get one or all.  It was up to us.

 When we finished our creations, it was time to pay for our desserts.  The attendant took my bowl and weighed it. Now that was a scary thought. All the time Jacy and I had been playing with the crazy titles, the ice cream tub expanded.  The attendant weighed everyone's bowl of over flowing ice cream.  Next she figured up our bill and it came to a little over twenty five dollars.  I knew it would be expensive for four, out of this world creations, so I wasn't exactly surprised.  My face, however, must have looked surprised
because Logan whispered, "Do you want me to put back some of my gummy worms." I started laughing.  I gave him a hug and told him his gummy worms were safe, Papa and I had this and we were fine.  Logan smiled and seemed relieved. I really do not think he wanted to part with his stack of worms...but the offer was sweet.

 

 

When we sat down to eat, we began trading bites and telling the names of our ice cream choices.  One of mine was "wedding cake" and it tasted like wedding cake. We ate all sorts of exotic named ice creams. The remarkable thing was all the creations really did taste like their namesakes.                                         

We had a good time, ate too much and made some memories. The next time we are in Centralia, one of the first places we will visit is the 'Penguin Place'. It comes highly recommended by the Carters and Johnmeyers.
                                                                                                                                                                  

 

This is What Happens When I Forget my Camera...

   There is something infinitely beautiful about a newborn fawn.  The unique size;  small, fragile and camouflaged to perfection.  The persistence of the infant to walk,  followed by the urge to nurse are instinctively present in the fawn at birth.  Legs wobble and weave as the fawn tries to stand his ground attempting to take steps only to stumble and fall.  Mom is watching closely, nudging and licking his body.  The baby begins to see his new world. He stops and rests for a few seconds;  his mother encourages him to nurse.  He thinks to himself as he tastes his first sip of milk, "Now that is what I am talking about! All this beautiful scenery and breakfast to boot!!  I am so gonna love livin' here.."  After nourishment and a nap, both mother and baby are ready to explore their surroundings.

   About this time, Tommy and I entered  the picture.  We were on our way to town, maybe a mile from home, when we spotted our first fawn of the season. The little deer could not have been over a few days old.  He was wobbly and so tiny, standing alone in the middle of our gravel road.  His mom was in the road ditch about ten feet from him.  He could not get his sense of direction correct.  He tried his best to reach his mother; he could not make it happen.

 We stopped our car about twenty yards from the small deer, rolled down our windows and watched the sweet trials of a lost newborn.

   I had forgotten my camera and did not get a photo of this awesome experience.  But my mind's eye remembers it all.  The baby took  two steps in one direction and stopped.  A minute or so later, he began wandering off  to the wrong side of the road.  His mother made a small bleating sound and the grass by the edge of the road moved slightly.  The fawn turned to look at the moving grass.  He turned his little body around and slowly took three steps...then sat down.  The gravel hurt his tender feet; his newborn legs grew tired as he plopped  down in the middle of the road  to rest and looked around.

   Tommy and I watched as he smelled the rocks, sand and dirt.  We shut the motor off and literally stared in amazement as the baby deer, too small to walk across the road at one time, sat down in the wrong place to rest.  His mother was anxious and trying her best to get him to get up and moving toward her. He looked at our car as if to wonder what kind of animal that big white thing was. He wasn't afraid. We received no more than a passing glance.  Once again his mother had his attention. He finally got the the message to get up and move in her direction.  He was anything but fast or graceful. He could not decide which end to raise first...neither one worked all that great. Finally, he raised his front two legs and the rear end--more or less-- followed. He was standing up...again. Slowly, ever so slowly he walked toward his mother and into the tall green grass. In three seconds,  they were gone.

    Tommy and I sat there a few minutes longer, talking and laughing, remembering the mini movie nature had provided for us. Suddenly going to the theater to see, "Jurassic World" seemed a little off kilter.  We had just seen Mother Nature at her best.  We weren't up for watching  Mother Nature in a rage today. We decided to drive the back roads and enjoy the sights, sounds and aromas of small uncivilized spots of ground.  While we were at it, we hoped to witness another miracle.

   The miracle of life is everywhere this time of year. The fields are rich with random flowers growing and thriving in places people never planted.  Queen Anne's lace accents orange day lilies. Yellow and white daises snuggle behind, across and in front of the lilies. Blue bonnets ramble through the ditches, and fields.  Next year all these plants will multiply and appear in the same unusual places...cow pastures, road ditches, wood lots and forests.   People will drive down old gravel roads  and think of the beauty they are viewing.  For a few minutes or a few hours,  all appears right in their corner of the world.

                                          

   The photo of the fawn was taken from a calendar. All rights belong to the photographer. The daylilies are my photo.

Every Home Could Use One of These...

   Little did I know when I woke up June 18th, I would end up punching a rubber man...and liking it...but I did. Tommy had promised our grandson, Logan, a punching bag and gloves for karate classes.  Columbia seemed like the most logical place to find what we needed.  First stop was Dick's Sporting Goods Store. They never let us down, when we need something.  As we entered the store Tommy and Logan took off to check out camping gear. Jacy and I searched for the work out gear department.  They had everything imaginable to loose weight, add muscles and relieve tension. Jacy and I were delighted. 

   As we walked around we found a 5 foot rubber man in dire need of a punch. So that is exactly what we did...we punched him.  In fact we made up little goofy remarks as we punched his face...repeatedly. I remember saying, "So you really don't like the way I make lasagna??"  "Well take this!! ..followed by another round of ".Bam, Wham....double bam!!"...  We were on a roll. Jacy chimed in with, "How dare you eat ALL the pop tarts!!"  We both busted out laughing as the little rubber man took a punch to the gut, followed by a pretty good upper cut. We were on a roll and having fun.  Perhaps it is not your normal grandmother and granddaughter outing, however far be it from us to be 'normal'. Plus we had fun.

   Next we found a punching bag and a small oval punching ball.  I think I liked the ball best.  I could really get my left hand to flying on that one. Jacy was about to cry, she was laughing so hard.  Evidently, I need a little work on my form. I was hopping around, dipping and diving.  We had the department to ourselves and if it looked like it was punchable...we punched it.  Later we find out we were on camera. What can I say?  It was unscheduled fun...just the way I like it.

   
   Tommy and Logan show up about the time I hit the punching bag as hard as I could. Tommy applauded, Logan laughed, and  Jacy walked off leaving  me on my own.

   Tommy was laughing when he said, "We heard you two, three isles over...that is why we are here.  Just wanted to make sure whoever you all were attacking was going to live!"

   That is when I told him I thought every home should have one of these.  Just think of all the exercise we could get. When frustrated with people or life, we could go a couple of rounds with the punching ball or the little rubber man until we felt better. He shook his head and said, "NO! It would end up hanging on the arm of you 'brand new' ten year old treadmill."  He has a point. A very good point, however that has never stopped me before. That is exactly the same way I got my treadmill. We shall see...Think I will sign off and do a few rounds of shadow boxing... just in case.