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Friday, October 29, 2010

When your forgetter runs faster than your rememberer

Each month we say "Boy this month went by fast" Well of course it has, after a certain age it is all down hill and of course time must run faster, right?

Tue we were having our weekly pizza and salad bar and commented on how good the beets were. Then I said they were better that the ones the other day that we had. We both sat there for at least 20 minutes trying to remember where that was and it was just on Saturday!! Finally it clicked and "I" remembered. One point for me!

Getting ready for a big birthday party for my "big" sister tomorrow. Going all out and rented a building and her daughters are decorating and proving the cake and the rest of us are bringing crock pots of soups and such. Making my elk chili. I was asked to host it at my home as I have the most room but I decided I didn't want 30 people in my home. Just funny that way.

Book store is up and running but running very slow. Economy? Seems the ones buying books look like the ones that can least likely afford to be spending money on books.

I am the only used book store in the county now as the one in the town where I live, the co. seat, has closed down. Another business on the square closed. Eventually it will just be all senior apartments. The court house brings in the traffic but the small businesses are struggling. Maybe it is time to do some advertizing again soon.

Thought for the day: Some days the only good things on T.V.are the lamp and clock

Friday, October 08, 2010

Hello! Anyone there!

Always wonder if any one reads these blogs or are we just talking in the wind, (better than spitting) IF you are there leave me a comment. :-)

Thursday, October 07, 2010

The Running of the Chipmunk

We sounded like it was the running of the bulls yesterday. Hubby hollered to me that a chipmunk had just run thru the living room and up the 4 steps to the bedroom area. We armed ourselves with brooms and headed out. Where was the rawhide music here??

Got him cornered in the master bedroom so closed off the hall door. After loosing him we checked the bathroom and he was behind the dryer. Oh Ha! Shut the bathroom door. That narrows things down. After shaking the dryer and scarring the poor thing out (twice) hubby accidental swept him back under the dryer in his zeal to get him. End results we got him and he won't be sneaking back in.

Now the mystery of how he got in. Hubby had seen him last week in the flowerpot on the front porch, so we think that one morning while I was carrying stuff out to the car and left the front door open he was in the pot and hopped out and headed inside. Silly chipmunk!

Thought for the day: Sometimes I make up my mind, other times my mind wanders, and every so often I lose track of it entirely.

Friday, October 01, 2010

Natalie MacMaster fiddles in reel time | Video on

Natalie MacMaster fiddles in reel time Video on

Words to the song: Blue is a River
Blue remembers
Blue like a planet to a spaceman
Blue river of my tears

Like the heather on the hillside
As they drove us from the highlands
Like the iceflow from the Artic
Where we landed in Newfoundland
There's a colour to my sorrow
There's a name for all this sadness
Like the ocean in between us,
I am blue.

Blue is a river
Blue remembers
Blue water running clear
Blue like a planet to a spaceman
Blue river of my tears

So I came here to the city
Where the dream burns like a furness
And I dazzled in these dark streets
Like a diamond in a coalface
Till the cold wind from the islands
Blew a storm cloud across the new moon
Like the gunsmoke above the houses
In my home.

Blue is a river
Blue remembers
Blue water running clear
Blue like a planet to a spaceman
Blue river of my tears
Blue river of my tears.

The history about this song of the Scottish Highland is that during the potato famines of the late 18th and 19th centuries, out of the goodness of their hearts, many English landowners offered their Scottish peasant tenants free passage to the New World on hired cargo ships. No mention of course was made of the fact that this "offer" was commonly delivered by pressgangs, and that the real purpose behind the clearances was to convert the lands into fine sporting estates where the land owners and their London friends might shoot grouse and fish for trout.

Copied from the post by Chris Anderson