Wednesday, December 29, 2010


Way back when the daughter was a toddler, this little reindeer delighted her, with its whimsically lit nose, the Christmas tunes it played and the movement of its legs.  Her Nana had bought it for her and its entertainment value diminished as our daughter grew older.  New batteries, a good dusting of its antlers and he is now entertaining another curly-headed sweetie.  His joints make a little more noise than they used to, but then again whose don't?  Twenty-five years old and he can still bring a smile to my daughter, "I remember him" when I set him down in front of the Grandlove's curious fingers.

My quest for the Fisher-Price record player was rewarded with a hands-on approval from the Grandlove.  He used his farm people to help him investigate the turntable.  The songs were familiar and he smiled his approval.  Made the hunt for the record player so worth it.

After enjoying a delicious meal, the two guys put their feet up and enjoyed a special movie.  Who doesn't like Mary Poppins?  It was a nice, quiet day.  In this hustle-bustle world we live in, it is nice to relax, share a good meal and appreciate the people in our world.

Tuesday, December 21, 2010

SWEET GIRL'S CONFUSING REQUEST: "Sing the bee song, Momma."

Growing up in a home where singing was a everyday occurrence, it followed that I would sing to my sweet little girl.  I learned the usual kiddie nursery rhymes, but some of the old classics that I enjoyed found their way into my repertoire.  When my sweet girl would stretch out her arms for me, she was met with a smile and my version of, "Hold me, hold me, never let me go..."  My mom would sing songs as she pushed our little curly-top on her tire swing, "He flies through the air with the greatest of ease..."  Snippets of songs filled the days and delighted our little one.  We all were happy with the arrangement, until one day when I was stumped by my little girl.  "Sing 'The Bee song', Momma." 

Thinking my mother had an extra song in her bag of tricks that I didn't know, I called her for the answer.  She was puzzled by the request, also, which only added to the frustration of the eager child.  I asked her to hum a bit, tell me more, or any hint that she could give me to find the right tune and she kept reassuring me that I knew it, it was "The Bee Song".  I finally promised that as soon as I remembered the elusive song, I would indeed start the serenade.  Watching my disappointed daughter leave the room, I racked my brain for any song with bees in it.  No "Sesame Street" songs that I could think of focused on the bees, she was way to young to want a song about" the birds and the bees", and so I finally concluded that it must have been one of my original songs that I threw together in a moment of fleeting creativity.

A few more days passed and we went to the mall, where there was a man who loved to demonstrate the musical instruments he sold.  Our little girl would dance to his music, which caused smiles all around.  She ran up to where he sat at the organ and requested "The Bee Song."  Imagine my extreme surprise when he smiled and began playing.  Who knew that there was such a song?!  Well, it wasn't exactly known nationally as "The Bee Song", but thankfully, the kind man started playing "Que Serra Serra".  That was the elusive song.  You know the line, "What will be, will be"?  That's the bee song and has remained "The Bee Song" in our family every since that curly-headed sweetheart twirled around with her dancing eyes and dazzling smile.

During the whirlwind of life, this jewel of a memory is what I treasure the most.  Sweetness, innocence and love.  I miss those easier days.  I miss my daughter's Nana and Papa.  I am blessed that with my Grandlove the innocence is once again embodied in a curly-headed child who can make people smile with their hearts.

May all of your Holiday wishes come true and the New Year be filled with Blessings for you and yours. 

Stay well and thank you for caring that a lowly Ferret enjoys writing about life.

Monday, December 20, 2010


Growing up with a mom who loved car trips, I have logged quite a few miles on the old asphalt throughout my life.  My mom had a "lead foot" and a bladder than size of Lake Erie, so we didn't stop as much as I would have like.  She would get her mind set on the number of miles she wanted to conquer in the day and ignore the usual kids' distractions that we would try.  But eventually, even she would give into the need to stop and we would keep our eager eyes peeled for the familiar signs of Stuckey's or Nickerson's Farms.  

Mom loved the pecan rolls at Stuckey's and we loved the gift shop.  Sometimes we were allowed a small purchase and we would choose the huge two-foot pencil, the plastic dinosaurs or a "cedar chest" to keep our tiny treasures safe.  If we didn't stop at Stuckey's then we would stop at Nickerson's Farms, 'cause we all loved the hot little loafs of bread with the honey butter. 
After we ate, we would watch the honey bees in the see-through bubble hive and check out the souvenir shop.  Before we all piled back into the car, bathrooms were used ("I don't care if you have to go or not, go anyways.") 
 Fast forward many decades and I find the road trips being a frequent occurrence in my weekly life.  Stuckey's and Nickerson's Farms have gone the way of leaded gas for twenty-five cents a gallon, but there is a roadside chain which has stepped up to the plate to fulfill the basic needs of travelers, both young and old.

Clean bathrooms, friendly staff, good food, souvenirs for any taste and best of all gas with competitive prices.  Buc-ee's are popping up in this pocket of the world, much like Nickerson's Farms did in the good ole days.  I know that families are experiencing the travel breaks at safe, clean places where one can stretch legs; empty body reservoirs; enjoy yummy handmade fudge; try Beaver Nuggets; fill up the car for another leg of the journey and then load back up with everyone ready to "hit the road." 

When I travel to the doctors' or the Grandlove's I like the feeling that no matter the weather or the time of day I can stop at Buc-ee's and get what I need to finish my journey. 

Thank you, Buc-ee, from your distant cousin, Ferret.  See you, soon.

Thursday, December 16, 2010


I saw on the news today that the most annoying word/phrase was determined to be:  "Whatever."  Well, it is a bit annoying, but trust me there are more culprits out there.  I will give you my top pet peeve words/phrases and I would love to hear about the ones that cause your eyes to squint and your neck muscles tense. 

When someone has done something for me, I acknowledge the act with either, "Thank you," or "Thank you, very much."  When I express my appreciation, I expect a simple, "You're welcome" not what I usually hear.  What a waiter says when I thank them for delivering my water, food, etc. is, "No problem."  Really, paying customers are a problem and now I know that your service to me is not a problem.  I thought that a server's job was to serve and me thanking was a courtesy.  This "No problem" response to a thank you is not restricted to service personnel, though.  In fact today I was in a locally owned stored and wouldn't you know, when I said, "Thank you" the sales person said, "No, problem."  Yes, she did smile, but that smile was over shadowed by the irritating phrase.  There are even some people in my life who say that phrase to my expression of appreciation.  What might happen is that I will stop thanking them for anything and see how much a problem that is. 

Some people cannot speak without using the word, "like" and I don't mean for expressing fondness for something.  People who pepper their speech with "like" make my eyes glaze over very quickly.  I  lose interest and what's funny is that usually they are unaware that I've stopped listening.

A phrase came into being a few years ago and it ranks right up there with words that could disappear and our collective IQ scores would increase dramatically.  "My baby's daddy" is a phrase that makes me flinch, because too many people find that a normal state of being.  What happened to "husband" or even
"ex-husband," if the marriage didn't work out?  How is it okay to have guys out there with numerous girls having their babies?  What happened to commitment?  What happened to devotion? Heck, what happened to birth control, if the girls can't control their primal instincts?  If the girls would even say, "My boyfriend" I wouldn't cringe as much.

There is one final word that some people use and it isn't even a word.  I even had a "superior" who would use this word on a daily basis.  He would get on the loud speaker and announce, "Quit conversating in the hallways."  Hey, Smarty, there's no such word as conversating. Conversing is what he wanted to say, but he continued to slur the King's English on a daily basis.  What's really sad is that I hear this "conversating" on television, in public places and throughout my day.  I try not to correct the person (don't much like the dirty stares or threats of bodily harm when people take offense to my innocent verbal redirection.)   A little side note here, the spell check just went crazy with my typing "conversating."

I'll be interested in your words/phrases that make your teeth hurt, you shoulders bunch up, or just irritate the heck out of you.

Saturday, December 11, 2010


When I am confronted by a challenge, the little hairs on the back of my neck start to rise.  When I am told, "I am sorry, Ma'am, but we won't be getting any more before Christmas,"my backbone become more rigid and I prepare for the challenge.  When all of the common resources have been exhausted, it becomes a matter of honor for me to conquer the insurmountable task set before me.  Defeated people fall to the wayside as I trudge forward to the goal.  This challenge of acquiring the unattainable fuels my determination.  I realize that this is part of my genetic makeup, because my mom wouldn't give up either. 

My first challenge was a couple of decades ago, when Cabbage Patch dolls first hit the market.  It didn't matter how much you were willing to spend, a person couldn't  find one.  When stores would have a shipment, there were actually fist fights among the harried shoppers.  (Remember this was before E-Bay, Amazon and all the other online purchase sites.)  Try as we might, we couldn't find one for our little girl for Christmas and then a little miracle happened in our world. 

My husband was laid off from the railroad and I was working in a clothing store to support our family.  At our local grocery store, there was to be a drawing every fifteen minutes to win a Cabbage Patch doll, but the catch was that you had to be present to claim the prize.  I left instructions that Hubby was to take our sweet girl to the store and wait the four hours for all of the drawings.  Every fifteen minutes a name would be drawn and a replacement one if the person wasn't there. 

After a couple of mind-numbing hours, Hubby zoned out. Luckily a little curly-headed girl brought him back in focus with, "Daddy, they just called your name!"  Sure enough, he got to claim the doll and brought a smile to our little girl's face.  He protected both the doll and our daughter as they went out to the car, because people were crazy about those silly dolls.

As I said, I was working in a clothing store and I didn't know what was going on in the drawing, until I walked into the shoe department of the store and there was a sight for sore eyes.  My hubby was holding our precious little girl, who in turn was hugging a cute baby boy Cabbage Patch doll.  My hubby provided something that even the wealthy couldn't acquire that year.  That red-sailor-suited little doll brought a smile to everyone's faces.

Now, forward a few decades and my daughter said that she wanted her little guy to have a Fisher Price record player.  No problem, right?  Wrong! That re-issued record player has been sucked up by greedy people who are turning around and selling it for two to three times its worth on Amazon and Ebay. 

Target stores are the exclusive carriers of this toy, with JCPenney offering it in their catalogue.  Daily checking with the store, online stores and finally Fisher Price itself told me that the record player acquisition was becoming a dream.  Not realizing my level of determination, my daughter told me, "Mom, it's okay, you don't have to get it, I just thought it would be nice.  Don't worry about it." 

Huh, me not worry about it or give up?  Really?  Not with the blood that flows through my veins.

I wrote down all the contact information for the Target stores within 130 miles.  I continued the web-search for JCPenney's availability.  No luck.  Getting people on the phone, netted me only a lot of, "I'm sorry Ma'am, but I don't know when or if we will be getting any more."  Fisher Price factory wouldn't sell me one, because it was a store exclusive.  Rolling up my sleeves, I went down the contact list once more Thursday morning.  Finally, I hit pay dirt.  I called a distant (hundred miles away)Target store and the girl said they had three.  Would she hold one for a couple of hours, until I could get there?  "No, Ma'am, not this time of the year."  Really?  I kept my cool as I asked for the manager; which she was and still no sympathy.  Finally, a little pleading  and, "I'll make an exception, but if you're not here by five, it's going back on the shelf."  No problem. 

Thank Goodness for Gypsy (GPS), because I didn't know the way to this town/Target.  Some of the roads I traveled were out in the middle of nowhere, barren landscape except for highway memorials with faded flowers and signs warning me not to pick up hitchhikers (because there were prisons nearby.)  A few hours later, I approached the Target office and when the girl behind the counter asked me, "So you really drove all the way to get this record player?"  I smiled and said, "Yep and batteries, too."

When I arrived at daughter's and she hugged the record player, she crooned, "It's just like I remembered."  The happiness radiating from her eyes reminded me of the joy I saw when she was little and her daddy hung the moon by winning the unattainable doll.  Maybe she's not a kid anymore, but the little girl is still alive deep in her heart and mine.

Monday, December 6, 2010


People are amazed that I have been happily married for so many decades, so I felt that it was time to share a secret concerning the longevity of our marriage.  Throughout the years my hubby has alerted me that I could be replaced, but only by a certain person. 

The "lucky" person has changed throughout our years together and I find it interesting when I'm alerted to the latest chosen one.  Early in our union, Crystal Gayle was the woman who could replace me.  Then there was Gloria Estefan.  The list has changed as the women have aged. 

My hubby's latest replacement is pictured here.  I have to admit that she is gorgeous and boy can she move in ways that are enticing.  Funny thing is that Hubby has aged, but his picks have a few qualities that remain the same:  Talented, musical, gorgeous and of course, unattainable. 

But just to be on the safe side, if you spot Hubby with Shakira, make sure he has taken his blood pressure medicine that day, will you?  He'd need it with this beautiful firecracker.

Saturday, December 4, 2010


Spent a few hours with my Grandlove and that's all it took to give me peace, hope and the overwhelming feeling of well-being.  He is better than any prescription in helping me to know that good will prevail and the negative aspects of life will not be enough to squash me and mine.  Such a gift from God, my Grandlove.