We Will Never Forget

While visiting with my grandparents one summer, I asked them what it was like living through World War II. Their voices softened and their demeanors changed as they described the events of December 7, 1941, the day not only Pearl Harbor was attacked, but every American was attacked.

All of the pain, worry, and trauma they experienced was carried with them, even though it had been over 30 years since the attack. As they described hearing the voice on the radio announcing Pearl Harbor was under attack, they paused as their voices cracked and their eyes became misty.

As a youth, I wondered how that level of pain could still be so fresh in their hearts 30+ years after the war ended. On September 11, 2001, within a small span of time, I understood all of their emotions. From their fear of not knowing the fate of family and friends, to the immediate overwhelming flood of emotions that assailed my senses upon hearing the television newscaster say "America is under attack".

For the first time, I got it. And it tore a hole in my heart I knew would never heal, no matter how much time passed.

I fully grasped the generations of my parents and grandparents sense of strength, faith, love, unity, and pride in their country, and in themselves. Everyone jumped into action. First Responders made the ultimate sacrifice to save others, and Americans signed up to go to war to protect our freedoms.

We ARE a nation of strength, faith, love, unity, and pride...... and always will be.

16 years later, we remember. We will always remember. 

December 7, 1941 and September 11, 2001 are days which will forever be burned into our hearts and minds. They are two of the most difficult days in American history. They are also two days which brought this country together in full and complete unity like no other. May we never forget those who were lost, and may we always rise up to bring this nation together. God bless America.

  

Written by Christie Bielss

The Fish That Got Away

When I was growing up, my parents and grandparents spun many a yarn about their lives. One of my all-time favorites was from a time when my maternal grandparents went deep sea fishing. Living near the coast, they would go fishing as often as they could.

My maternal grandparents

One day back in the 1950's, they decided to make their fishing trip a little more interesting by turning it into a friendly competition. The competition rules were: whoever "boated" the biggest fish that day, won. To "boat" the fish meant neither could help the other reel in, or bring on board, their catch. They had to do it all by themselves.

My grandfather stood about 6'1" tall, while my grandmother was a petite 5'4" tall. My grandfather's size gave him a bit of confidence with his ability to cast further, and reel fish in faster, than my grandmother.

The prize for this competition? Bragging rights. 

Little did they know how far, or for how many years, the bragging rights from this friendly competition would continue.

The fishing competition commenced with each of them using a cane fishing pole to catch bait fish. A cane pole is a piece of bamboo which was fashioned into a fishing pole. Once they caught a small fish on the cane pole, they would transfer that fish to their "good" fishing poles, in hopes of catching bigger fish.

All was going well when my grandmother's cane pole began to dance around. Thrilled she had caught a bait fish, my grandmother quickly grabbed the cane pole and began to bring it in.

The harder she pulled on that cane pole, the harder the fish fought back. Within minutes, she realized she had something larger than just a bait fish and started hollering for my grandfather.

"Help! Help me!" she cried.

When my grandfather turned toward my grandmother, he was greeted with a view of just her elbows and fanny, and both wiggling around frantically. The rest of her body was bent over the side of boat fighting against whatever was on the other end of her fishing pole.

A second later, she stood upright, causing her cane pole to bend nearly in half. The weight and fight of the fish on the other end of the pole pulled my grandmother so she was bent over the side of the boat. 

Back and forth she went as she fought to gain the upper-hand. Just as she would stand upright, the fish would fight back and cause her to be bent in half again.

Again she cried out "Help! Help me!".

Being that this was a friendly fishing competition between the two, and my grandmother was holding her own in this battle of fish vs. human, my grandfather took a moment and asked "Is this fish going to count?". 

"Yes!", she exclaimed.

He chuckled as he replied "Well, then no ma'am I won't help. You have to boat that fish yourself, if you want it to count.".

Her reply was lost as she was, yet again, bent in half when the big fish fought against being a trophy. My grandmother may have been petite, but she came from a lineage of strong women and was every bit as feisty as the ancestors before her. She dug in her heels and pulled, and tugged, and pulled some more. 

Back and forth she went with this fish for a good bit of time. Finally gaining the advantage, she pulled the fish in close to the boat and yelled for my grandfather to grab the fishing net to lift her prize into the boat.

Eagerly, my grandfather moved close to my grandmother as she brought the fish to the surface, ready to see what size fish had caused such an epic battle. Just as he leaned down, the fish surfaced, only it wasn't just any old fish. 

Photo Courtesy of Wikipedia Public Commons

It was a shark! 

Ok, so it wasn't the 20 foot great white shark pictured above, but when you're the one hanging over the side of a boat with their hands in the path of a mouth full of razor-sharp teeth, it probably looked like Jaws. It was, however, a good four to five foot very displeased shark, to be more exact.

My grandfather shrieked and jumped back. After making sure all of his digits were still intact, he declared my grandmother the winner of their contest and made the wise decision she did not need to boat her catch. Grabbing a tool from his tackle box, he carefully cut the fishing line and set the shark free.

You may wonder what happened to the cane pole that stood strong throughout this competition. It was permanently bent in an arc from that legendary battle of wills and would be brought out of the storage closet whenever anyone asked to hear the story of how my grandmother caught a shark.

My grandparents had planned on keeping that fishing pole indefinitely, unfortunately, their home was burglarized a number of years later and the burglars made off with all of their fishing equipment, including the bent cane pole.

So, if you ever come across someone with a bent cane pole from ca. 1950's, it could very well be from an epic battle where my grandmother caught a fish "this big"......... but it got away.

Written by Christie Bielss

The Legend of PrayerBear

You may be wondering what happened to this crazy redhead the past few months.  This summer my daughter underwent major surgery. It was an extraordinarily stressful time for my husband and I. Leading up to the surgery, my stress levels were so high, I could not think beyond how many days were left until surgery, much less think of writing a single word for the blog.

While we were confident our daughter had the very best surgeon and was in the best hospital to attend to her needs, the doubts and "what ifs" still somehow crept in. In the days leading up to the surgery, I could not fathom how I could possibly handle watching as the hospital staff wheeled my daughter away. I did the only thing I knew to do during this time:  I prayed, and prayed, and prayed. 

My little girl made me make a promise a few days prior to surgery. She made me promise I would not cry in front of her when they wheeled her off to surgery. I agreed, even though I wasn't sure I could keep that promise..... but I was determined to give it all I had. 

As she was wheeled back for surgery, her prayers were answered and I did not shed a tear. For the next nearly 7 hours, I prayed, and chatted with one of our church's ministers. And then I prayed, and walked to the hospital's chapel and prayed some more. As I walked back to my seat in the parents' surgical waiting area, the surgeon walked through the doors beaming from ear to ear. Our baby was on the road to recovery.

One day while she was still in the hospital recuperating, she had a particularly rough morning. The nurse gave her some medication to ease her symptoms, which also had the side benefit of helping her sleep. While she napped, I stepped out into a parent lounging area to update my parents on her condition.

I was on the phone with my parents and watched as hospital volunteers quietly dropped off a teddy bear to her room. They giggled as they came out of her room, thrilled a child would wake up to their surprise gift. I smiled and got a bit choked up at the delight these 2 women took in bringing cheer to sick and injured children.

A short time later my husband arrived with our son, so he could visit with his sister. As we walked in, our daughter was just rousing from her nap. She immediately laid eyes on a lovely creamy white teddy bear which had been placed on the bed tray in front of her.

She squealed with delight over waking up to this adorable stuffed creation and, upon lifting it up, discovered a book had come with the bear. I read aloud the name of the book "The Legend of PrayerBear" by Annie Miller. My daughter said immediately "That's my bear's name. PrayerBear", and then asked me to read the book to her.

I sat down and read this beautiful and touching story of a bear that just wanted someone to love and hug. I was doing a great job of holding my tears inside over this heartwarming tale until I got to the last page.

I barely made it through the first line on the page when all of the tears I had held so tightly inside started escaping the vise-like control I'd kept on them. I stopped reading for a moment and took a deep breath, trying to get hold of myself. 

The story had taken a twist when PrayerBear had been given to a young girl who was in the hospital and was sad because she wasn't well enough to be able to get up and about. This story was hitting so close to home, I was having no success controlling my emotions. When I got to the final 2 paragraphs of the story, the proverbial floodgates opened wide:

          "I thank you for my PrayerBear,
            And for the friend so dear
            Who cared enough to send it
            To remind me God is near.

            Every time I feel afraid
            I'll hug my PrayerBear tight
            For I have friends who care for me,
            And I will be all right."

Christie Bielss

If You Ask A Grandmother Her Age......

Clipart Courtesy of Clipartlord.com

Back in the 1990's, my husband and I were visiting with his grandmother discussing technology. As we were discussing the latest advancements like in-home Dolby surround sound, home computers, and cell phones, she began to tell us about her latest doctor's appointment.

"The nurse asked me how old I am and I told her 'I am old enough to be your grandmother.' The nurse laughed, wrote down something, and then put me in a room to wait on the doctor to arrive.

After a few minutes of waiting, the doctor came in and sat down and looked at my chart. He asked me how old I am. I don't understand why everyone at the doctor's office is always so interested in my age. I quit keeping up with how old I am when I hit 85.

I looked at the doctor and told him 'I was born in double-aught'. You figure it out.' He replied with a 'Wow! You must have experienced a lot over the course of your life.'

I told him I was born in a time when candles and kerosene lamps were used to light our homes. I grew up with an outhouse as a bathroom and watched as indoor plumbing and electricity were brought into our homes.

When I was young, we got around by either walking, riding on horseback, or via horse and carriage. As I got older, we marveled as cars took over the roads. If we needed to go far away, we took the train....... and we put on our best Sunday clothes for the trip. Now we have airplanes that will get us there in a fraction of the time and people look like they have on their pajamas.

When we cooked, we made everything from scratch. And by scratch I mean we either went to the butcher, or we slaughtered our own livestock or chickens, or we hunted for our wild game. Our milk was fresh, since we had to milk the cow every morning. We churned what we weren't going to drink to get our butter and cream, we couldn't buy it off a store shelf.

In my years, I have watched as hemlines inched up from touching the floor to barely covering the derriere'. I have listened to music grow from a one-man fiddler, to big bands, to songs being played on the radio.

I've experienced world wars and watched as men walked on the moon. Buildings went from being a few stories tall to skyscrapers."

As my husband and I reflect on this memory, it brings to mind all of the change and growth we have seen in our own lifetimes.  40+ years ago, we could have never imagined this world we live in, or the technological growth which happens almost daily.  This growth and change we have experienced makes us wonder what our children will have to look forward to and endure in their lifetimes.  I don’t believe I can imagine that world……… and I’m not sure I really want to either.

Christie Bielss

No Bark, No Bite, No Problem

It was nearly 30 years ago and I was bringing dinner to my (then) boyfriend (now husband).  My parents were out of town and I was dog sitting my childhood pet, a wonderful male toy french poodle named Pepi (short for Pierre), so I brought him along for the ride.  Pepi loved going for rides in the car and it was time to introduce him to the young man I was dating.

Pepi, the coolest poodle on the planet

While I was just starting to experience life, Pepi, at 17 years old, was experiencing his twilight years.  Every time I looked at him, I didn't see the aging pooch with silvered fur.  I saw a cute little black ball of fluffy puppy fur who could perform circus tricks, who loved sticking his head out of the car window on road trips, and who slept next to me at night and was my protector.

Yes, it was time for Pepi to meet my boyfriend.

Because my boyfriend only had 30 minutes for dinner, I would bring his meal to him and we would eat in the car together.  This night's meal was grabbed after picking up the dog, so it was a Wendy's cheeseburger and fries, both of which were Pepi's favorites.

Keeping the dog's head from burrowing into the bag and gnoshing on the french fries wasn't so difficult since he was captivated by the drive down the highway.  He even waited patiently for my boyfriend to walk out to the car and to be introduced.

My boyfriend took a liking to the dog immediately.......... but apparently the feeling was not mutual.  Maybe it was because my boyfriend wasn't sharing his fries or a tiny bite of meat from his burger.  Pepi became perturbed enough he started to make his presence known.

It started out as a cough here and there from the dog.  Within a minute or two, the little cough turned into the sound of the dog coughing up his toenails.  As the coughs became more and more gross sounding, we noticed they were perfectly timed with my boyfriend's bites of the burger or fries.

"Geez!  Is the dog ok?", he asked after being grossed out by a particularly nasty coughing fit from the dog.

The tone of that question was not lost on the dog.  It apparently irritated him that this man was usurping his time with me, and he wasn't willing to share his fries either.  The dog decided it was time to launch a full assault.

Within seconds the aroma in the car took on a much more pungent scent.  As I quickly rolled down the windows, my boyfriend gave me a questioning look.

I smiled as I said "it was the dog."

"Yeah, right.", he replied.

Just as I was about to deny that the source of the smell came from me, the dog coughed and quite loudly passed gas.

"Oh my GOSH! What have you been feeding that dog?!" he cried as he hopped out of the car in search of fresh air.

Between fits of laughter and with tears running down my face, I reminded him of how old the dog was.

"Are you sure he's not dead already.  From the smell of things I think your parents had him stuffed and filled with robotics to make it look and sound like he's still alive." he asked.

After the aired had cleared a bit, he got back in the car and finished eating.  With his lunch break over, he leaned over to give me a kiss before he got out of the car.  The dog gave him one last parting shot with a particularly gross cough as he simultaneously passed gas.

"Dear lord!  I can actually taste that one!" he yelled as he scrambled for the door handle.

Laughing hysterically again, I called out to him "I don't think the dog likes you because you wouldn't share your fries........."

"I will make sure to buy him his own order next time so I can breathe." he said.

After I got home and settled for the night, my sweet little dog snuggled up next to me, just like when I was younger.  About that is when I had a realization: the dog had not coughed or passed gas once since my boyfriend got out of the car.  With that I laughed myself to sleep.

Pepi may have been too old to back full grown man up in a corner in a show of protection, but he figured out a way to get him out of the car faster than a speeding bullet.  He was one very cool dog and friend.

A Blast from the Past

I grew up in a time of bell-bottom pants, the peasant blouse, and the super-short hot pants. Wedge heels and gaucho pants were all the rage for the ladies. Men tottered around in platform shoes while wearing double knit polyester leisure suits. Yes, I grew up in the groovy 70s.

Photo courtesy of memecrunch.com

If a person wanted to look really hip and cool, he/she would carry a boombox on his/her shoulder while he/she strutted down the street to the beat of music from artists like The Village People, The Bee Gees, or Donna Summer.

Little did I know that shopping for a cell phone would take me back to those formative years.  Over the course of the past six months or so, the battery life on my cell phone has continued a downward spiral headed toward self-destruction.

In addition, my phone had been cutting out in the middle of conversations or other tasks that I was trying to perform (like playing on social media).  I didn't have enough storage space left to update to the newest operating system, which also started to cause major issues running apps on the phone.

Cutting a redhead off mid-sentence or crashing and losing everything in the middle of writing a blog post is dangerous to both man and machine.  The likelihood of this machine being smashed to bits with a hammer or run over by my car was becoming a very real possibility.

Even though the problems with my cell phone were driving me to the brink of insanity, I dreaded the idea of changing phones.  Even worse than the change of phones is the idea of having to go shopping for new technology.  Shopping for a cell phone ranks just below scrubbing toilets with a toothbrush on my list of enjoyable activities.  

But, the situation with my phone had become dire, so with an open mind and a pocketful of chocolate, I hit the stores.  I did decide to take my daughter with me so she could explain the latest technology at my level..... which is somewhere between the IBM Selectric typewriter and pencil/paper.

I told the salesman I would like a phone I could read without having to wear glasses.  Before I had time to blink, the salesman held up a Samsung Galaxy Note.  I smiled at him and told him it was very easy to read and it looked pretty, but I was really looking for a cell phone, not a tablet computer.

He looked at me as though I were daft and explained it is a cell phone "and so much more".  I pondered, apparently out loud, whether it would even fit in my handbag or if I'd have to switch to using a piece of rolling luggage just to carry it around.  The salesman rolled his eyes at this crazy middle-aged, unhip woman who was obviously over exaggerating.

Just as the salesman put the metal slab of a phone up to his ear, my daughter started to get a little wiggle as the store's intercom music started playing "Hot Stuff" by Donna Summer .  With that 70's inspired ghetto blaster of a phone pressed to the salesman's ear, the only thing missing in this scene was John Travolta dressed in a white double-knit polyester leisure suit striking a pose.  Whoop-whoop!

I tried but fell far short of containing my snort of laughter.  Smiling, he said "I'm guessing you prefer something a little smaller."

"Why yes, I do believe something smaller would be nice.", I said. "Something I don't have to wear hip-huggers and a halter top with would be marvelous.  I don't really want to be the next viral social media meme captioned 'Granny's got groove'....."

Written by Christie Bielss

A Redheaded Perspective to the 30 Days of Thanksgiving

I am betting most of you have had at least one person in your social media group participate in the 30 days of Thanksgiving.  Last year I participated in the challenge but, by about day 15, I started having a hard time remembering to post, which was likely aided by having to think outside the box to find things to be thankful for when the easy stuff ran out.  That's not to say I'm not thankful for everything and everyone around me, it just became difficult to find things to post that didn't make me sound like I was giving it a half-hearted effort.

This year, instead of posting once a day for 30 days on my Facebook account, I have decided to post all of the small things for which I am thankful for and I am doing it all in one post.  I've always been told that you can't appreciate the big things in life if you don't stop to be thankful for all of the little things first. So this year, it's all about the little things.

1)  I am thankful for my children no longer feeling the need to issue a "brace yourself" warning to each other when we approach the car launch ramp, I mean exit, to our subdivision during rush hour.  My children have learned to make sure they have secured their belongings, tightened their seatbelts, and have a firm grip on one of the vehicle's grab bars.

2)  I am thankful our dog now recognizes the need to brace herself upon seeing us make our final approach to the car launch ramp.  After nearly 2 years of unsuccessfully using her claws to try to stay upright while looking out the car window as our vehicle moves quickly into an open space in the rush hour traffic, she now jumps down and lays on the floorboard of the car.  My children have decided she would rather not see what's happening and is bracing for impact.

3)  I am thankful for well-timed green lights.  There is nothing more beautiful than driving down a stretch of highway and have the signal lights all change to green as you approach.

4)  Milk Chocolate.  No further explanation necessary.

5)  Puffs Plus.  What is more gratifying than to be able to catch your child's sneeze and not have the tissue disintegrate in your hand upon impact.

6)  The scroll wheel on the mouse.  It is quite satisfying to be able to scroll up or down a computer screen faster than the speed of light.  I do think it would be neat if computer gurus could install a sonic boom noise which would automatically sound when you surpass a certain scrolling speed.

7)  Refrigerator magnets.  Those magnets hold special pieces of artwork, doctor's appointment reminders, and important school information, and they always take a backseat to everyone being thankful for toilet paper.

8)  Dark chocolate.  It's the healthy chocolate and therefore equates to eating a vegetable.

9)  Television and its accompanying electronic components.  "Barney's Super-Singing Circus" VHS tape played every 2-4 hours in my house for my son's first 4 years of life as he underwent nebulizer treatments for asthma.  That tape, while it caused the loss of a great many of my brain cells, was the only thing my son would sit still to watch while allowing a mask to be placed over his nose and mouth to receive the medication.  "Boom, boom, ain't it great to be crazy?!......"

10)  Window blinds and coverings.  I'm sure my neighbors appreciate our judicious use of our blinds and I know I appreciate theirs.

11)  Sunglasses.  While I'm out on sunny or bright days I get to feel like Audrey Hepburn or Grace Kelly.

12)  Semi-sweet chocolate.  3 words:  Toll House Cookies......

13)  Shopping carts.  Because having to lug a pack mule to the grocery store to carry my items would be even more difficult to load into my SUV than remembering to bring my reusable tote bags.

14)  String.  It can hold a Christmas tree onto the roof of a car, or prevent a car's bumper from dragging the ground.  It can also be in the form of yarn which can be knitted into a cap, socks, or that ugly Christmas sweater Aunt Marge knits for you every.single.year..

15)  Dish scrubbers.  Whether it be a brush, scrubbing sponge, or SOS pad, they just make life easier and, because they are disposable, usually get forgotten on these kinds of lists.

16)  Special dark chocolate.  In case you did not know, it goes well with wine.  You're welcome.

17)  The words "please" and "thank you", as well as "yes/no ma'am" and "yes/no sir".  Whether from an adult or a child, nothing is quite as pleasant as giving and receiving respect through our choice of words in both big and small acts of kindness.

18)  Ranch dressing.  Without this one small food product added to my children's vegetables when they were younger, they would have been carnivores.

19)  A lawn blower/vac.  This one crucial piece of lawn equipment has saved me from sweeping up the sidewalk for months on end, not to mention the reduction in the need to rake leaves in the fall since it vacuums them up directly into a bag.

20)  White chocolate.  It decorates strawberries beautifully when interwoven with milk chocolate.

21)  Potty-trained children and pets.  After having to change a diaper or clean up a pet accident on a rug, no further explanation is necessary.

22)  Staples, paper clips, and binder clips.  Without these essentials, we would all look like hoarders.

23)  Label makers.  Now when I cram things in storage containers, I actually know what is in there.  It has been a budget saver as well since I don't buy 15 of the exact same thing only to lose it somewhere in my house.

24)  Bittersweet chocolate.  Think chocolate raspberry cake with a dark truffle icing.  Every chocolate has a place among mankind.

25)  Toenail clippers with the under-the-nail gunk scraper. Really, whoever came up with the idea of this essential grooming tool was a genius.

26)  Vehicle turn signals...... especially when drivers actually use them.

27)  Erasers and correction tape.  I wish life mistakes could be removed as easily.

28)  Cocoa.  A cold winter's night, a fire in the fireplace, and a cup of hot cocoa.  Cocoa, another life necessity.

29)  Pooper scoopers.  The several feet of clean air space the long-handled scooper affords makes life much sweeter......... smelling.

30)  All of my family, friends, and readers who encourage and support me....... probably against their better judgement. 


Enjoy the crazy relatives and the guess-what-food-that-is-casserole at your family get-togethers.  Wishing you all a safe, joyous, and very happy Thanksgiving!

Written by Christie Bielss

Kimmie the Krusher!

Recently while shopping for a new wallet at a department store, I overheard a conversation two women were having regarding their philosophy on child-rearing.  The women were quite obviously not on the same page and I became transfixed by their exchange of facial expressions and defiant body language.

"There's so much negativity in the world, we decided to avoid the use of negative words with our children.", the shorter woman said to the taller.  The look of utter disbelief on the taller friend's face almost made me burst out laughing.  Having always been the kind of person who likes to people-watch, and this was obviously going to be an entertaining exchange, I decided to see what transpired between these two women.

"I'm sorry, what?" was the taller woman's reply to the other woman's child-rearing philosophy.

"We only want to encourage good feelings, so we never use any language which creates a negative environment." the shorter woman said.

There was a slight pause as the two women stepped out of the way of an elderly woman who was looking at handbags.

As the elderly woman moved on, the taller woman asked "Soooooo, if Kimmie grabs the butcher knife from you while you are slicing food, you don't tell her to stop because it's dangerous and she could hurt herself?".

"Oh heavens no!  There are much better ways of instructing her than using negative words and emotions.", she said.

The two women continued their conversation as I picked up a wallet every now and again so I at least appeared to be shopping instead of eavesdropping.  Then, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed the child, Kimmie, who was the center of their conversation.

Little Kimmie caught my glance and a mischievous grin came across her face.  Having children myself, I recognized that look and knew that nothing good could come from it and I braced myself for what was bound to come next.

I overheard the taller woman ask "How exactly is she supposed to learn how to handle being told "no" in school, or even the real world, if she's not introduced to it at home first?".

The shorter woman replied "We don't tell her no, we just redirect her to something she can play with.  We figure Kimmie can figure out how to deal with the ugliness of the world later on in life when that time comes.  We think children should be allowed to be care-free and not bound by society's rules............".

As Kimmie's mother spoke, little Kimmie spun on her heel and ran like a linebacker at a bank of tall rounders full of jewelry.  

The crashing noise of the destruction she wrought upon those plastic and wood rounders was deafening. Earrings flew everywhere.  Necklaces were a tangled mess on the floor and looked very much like a commercial fishing net.  Bracelets rolled across the highly glossed marble floors, causing store personnel to dodge them as they came at a run to see who might have been injured in the "accident".

As store personnel quickly arrived, they saw Kimmie tossing jewelry everywhere.  A manager quickly got past their shock and asked loudly who the child's parent or guardian was.  I saw the taller woman quickly back away from her acquaintance while pointing to the woman stating "That's her mother".

Store security quickly helped Kimmie to her feet from where she was trying to swim in the pile of jewelry.  They started assessing the damage and directing the department personnel to add up the cost of all the damaged items.  The taller woman said to Kimmie's mother "Hmmm, I do believe your daughter is about to get a lesson in the real world's version of the word "no".  I hope you've got deep pockets.".

I'm pretty sure that despite the destruction Kimmie wrought on the store that day, she still has a bright future in front of her.  She should do great as either an MMA fighter or maybe even with the Roller Derby.  Heck, she has already created a great stage name for herself:  Kimmie the Krusher.

Written by Christie Bielss

We Blinked........

My kids have started back to school for the 2014-2015 school year.  I'm not sure how it happened, or when it happened, but my kids are no longer "children", they are pre-teens.  Wasn't it just yesterday I was on the floor with them reading "Pat the Bunny", "Goodnight Moon", or one of the many wonderful books by Sandra Boynton for hours at a time?  Our parents told us to enjoy every minute with our babies because in the blink of an eye, they'd be in middle school, high school, and then college.  In another blink, they'd be getting married and having babies of their own.

When my husband and I got married, my mother requested a special song be played at our ceremony.  The song was from "Fiddler on the Roof" and is titled "Sunrise, Sunset".  The lyrics express perfectly how I'm feeling.

"Is this the little girl I carried?
Is this the little boy at play?

I don't remember growing older
When did they?

When did she get to be a beauty?
When did he grow to be so tall?

Wasn't it yesterday
When they were small?

Sunrise, sunset
Sunrise, sunset
Swiftly flow the days
Seedlings turn overnight to sunflowers
Blossoming even as we gaze."

I still instinctively look at my shoulder before I leave my house to see if I have baby food or drool which needs to be wiped off.  When I take both kids shopping for clothes, I have to remind myself to go to the teen/preteen area and not the children's department.

My daughter used to lock her tiny little arms around my thigh whenever we went anywhere because she was so shy and scared.  Now she runs with carefree abandon with her friends and throws back a "See ya later, Mom!" along with a smile.  When did her wings of independence begin to spread?

My son loved to hold my index finger.  Even as a toddler he was so outgoing and energetic.  There were many times when I thought he'd dislocate my finger in his excitement to reach whatever it was he had his sites aimed for.  These days I get a wave of his hand and a "Later! Love ya!" as he hops out of the car in the school drop-off line.

As I think back, the time elapsed from when they were just born to now feels like a few short weeks.  What happened which caused this quick jump in age?  As much as I would like to believe it was time travel, or even a time warp, I know that isn't the culprit.  I think what happened was exactly what our parents told us would happen.  We blinked.

Written by Christie Bielss

Ghostly Encounters - The Squeal-quel

Friday the 13th...... a full moon.......... a coyote howls in the distance........ you hear the sound of footsteps in the dark.  The hair on the back of your neck stands up and causes your heart to skip a beat.  Your ears strain for even the faintest of noise.  Your eyes stare into the pitch black darkness trying to catch a glimpse of any shadow that moves........ and you wonder if you're brave enough to get out of bed to turn on a light.  Is it an apparition or your imagination???

About a month ago I wrote about the odd night-time occurrences we have been experiencing in our home here.  It hasn't been our first encounter with the strange and unusual though.  My parents lived in a house several years back which had some rather..... puzzling... things happen as well.

When my parents moved into their home, my mother being the rather meticulous unpacker, would only allow one box to be unpacked at a time so she could carefully choose the spot where each item was to be placed.  (Yes, it took a while to unpack.)  The house had a built-in glass display cabinet, which was the perfect place of distinction for her china figurines.  She carefully chose the perfect spot in the cabinet for each one of her treasures.

After they finished unpacking and settled in, some odd things began happening.  It started out innocent enough one morning.  She and my dad woke up to find her favorite china figurine, a rather large piece, moved from the display cabinet.

Now I'm not talking about having been moved an inch or two, or even swapping places in the cabinet with another piece.  This piece was actually removed from the cabinet in the formal living room and placed on a sofa table in the family room quite some distance away.  My parents blamed each other as my mother put the figurine back in the display cabinet.

This happened multiple times over the course of the next 6 months or so.  My mom was sure my dad was doing it as some form of prank since it always happened at night after she'd gone to bed.  After many months of this happening, my mom finally had had enough.  She really read the riot act to my father over his prank and told him to knock it off.

He looked at her quite astounded and said he thought she'd been doing it.  He gave her his word he wasn't touching the piece.  She still didn't quite believe him....... until my dad, a commercial airline pilot, left to go on an overseas trip.

The second morning after he'd been gone, my mother awoke to the figurine moved from the living room cabinet to the sofa table in the family room.  It didn't take long before I was on the receiving end of an early morning telephone call from my rather disconcerted mother.   "I think we have a ghost in this house......... and I don't think it likes my decorating.".

When dad got home from his trip, mom told him about it happening again while he was away.  He laughed and told her that maybe she should just leave the figurine where the ghost moved it.

As time went by they got used to things being moved every now and again.   They decided there was really nothing to get too worked up over ....... until several months later.  My dad was again on another trip when I got a somewhat frantic phone call from my mom that the ice maker to the refrigerator quit working.

This was a problem.  They were about to host a pretty good sized party and a broken ice maker would pose a huge problem.  My husband and I quickly drove over and worked on the ice maker and could find nothing wrong. 

We tried to pull the refrigerator away from the wall, but this was an older style refrigerator and it was a beast.  Even with the 3 of us, we couldn't budge it.  There was no help for it, mom was going to have to call in a repairman.

The repairmen arrived the very next morning and checked everything we had already gone over.  It took 3 very strong men, and a lot of huffing and puffing, to move that refrigerator out from the wall.  What they discovered was very unnerving.

Someone (or something) had completely turned off the water supply line to the ice maker.  The repairmen all said there was no way my dad could have done that by himself.  They also dispelled the notion that maybe it was never turned on properly and had, by a fluke, worked all these months.  Nope, it wasn't possible they said.  Apparently the spook of this house didn't like parties.

When my dad got home from his trip, we told him what happened.  He agreed that something other-worldly was happening here and admitted to not telling about other odd occurrences which had been happening in the house.  

Apparently, he had been hearing a cat meowing in the garage on and off for a number of weeks.  He had been out to investigate multiple times in an effort to shoo away the four-legged foe before it could get into anything.  He had looked everywhere and tried to follow the sound of its cries, but he never could find it or evidence it was ever in the garage.

And then came the night of the party.  That's when we found out that one of the previous owners of the home had been crazy about her cat.  As in creepy-crazy.  While she was away on a trip, she instructed her pet sitter that if anything should happen to her cat, they were to place the animal's remains in the garage freezer so she could take care of it when she returned.

We also learned the house was the woman's favorite home and she had not wanted to move away.  And the story got even weirder when they said she committed suicide after being forced to move out of state and that her one wish was to be able to go back to her favorite home......... and we're all guessing she did.

It wasn't long after that when my parents decided that moving out to the country would be a fine idea..........

Written by Christie Bielss

When Nature Calls

Maybe it is from my childhood years of being a tomboy, or maybe it's just a genetic trait, but I love being out amongst nature.  Whether it's looking at snow-capped mountain tops, ocean waves rolling in at high-tide, or a bird cleaning itself in a bird bath, I love it all.

Tree branches sway in a gentle breeze like nature's ballet and calm my nerves faster than a day at the spa.  Tree leaves dance on soft drafts of air with movements so graceful they are mesmerizing.  The sun's ray shining through the leaves and branches of a tree are enchanting and cause me to search for a fairy dancing around in the glittery light.

The quiet pattering of rain drops on the roof and the low murmuring rolls of thunder are calming to my soul.  The stillness of a gentle rain is so peaceful you can almost feel it nurturing the trees, plants, and earth with its life giving force.  I love sitting outside on a porch swing watching the rain transform nature into deep beautiful colors right before my eyes.

I marvel at birds who are able to sing beautiful songs they compose themselves.  With a song in their heart, they sing with great abandon as the sun breaks the horizon in the morning.  I'm also envious of their ability to soar with wings spread wide on updrafts of wind with seemingly carefree abandon.

With boundless energy, squirrels chase each other around the yard.  Watching them is almost like being at the circus, without the creepy clowns.  Their feisty personalities allow them to run at breakneck speed and fling themselves from tree to tree with little fear of falling.  They seem to enjoy teasing each other with their crazy acrobatic moves.

But, when those squirrels start digging in my flowerbeds and flower pots, or try to chew a hole in the side of my house to get in the attic, my love of nature ends and my own redheaded nature comes out.  Chasing after them with a broom, or winging a bb close by their furry little bodies, will generally get them to reconsider their current activity.

When those two options fail, I send out our dog.  While last year we were surprised that our dog had no problem sharing our yard with squirrels, this year she apparently isn't feeling that same love.  Last fall, the squirrels taunted her mercilessly by dropping acorns on her head while she sunned herself in the grass and she seems to still be harboring a grudge against them.

This year she's decided they are just a bunch of bushy-tailed tree rats who are invaders of her territory.  Being a mixture of Border Collie, Italian Greyhound, and Jack Russell Terrier, she is a lightning fast runner.  Without reducing her speed, can cut corners with great skill and she can jump vertically up a tree a good distance, much to the dismay of the squirrels.

The first time she took off after one of the squirrels, it was like watching a cartoon.  The squirrel had a look on its face of "EEK! What the *#@*?!!!", while our dog had quite the Clint Eastwood determined look of "Go ahead, make my day.".  The squirrel, in complete shock and running for its life, had to make several laps around our yard in ever-widening circles before it was able to jump up a tree.  The squirrel quickly scampered high up into the tree while our dog plopped herself back down in the grass, happy in the knowledge that she'd made her territory secure......... and gotten even just a smidge.

There are so many different aspects of nature which can appeal to just about every personality.  Turn off the tv and the cell phone, and get up from the computer.  Go sit outside, take a walk, go to the park, or open a window.  Enjoy what's been put before you and allow it to restore and rejuvenate you.  And don't forget the bug spray because while there are many enjoyable and lovely parts of nature, fly and mosquito bites are not one of them.

Written by Christie Bielss

The Front Porch

There are parts of living in the deep south that I truly miss.  The heavy southern drawl of ladies chatting over an impromptu afternoon tea.  Old oak trees with beautifully shaped canopies expertly adorned with the perfect amount of spanish moss draped elegantly from its branches.  Dogwood trees and azalea bushes in full bloom creating an absolutely spectacular display of nature's beauty.  But most of all, I miss the big wrap-around front porches.



Photo by Billy Hathorn

Those big porches allowed for a lot of activity.  You could sit on the porch and watch your neighbors as they mowed their lawns, or watch your kids riding bikes or playing in the sprinkler.  You could put a swing on the porch and glide your way through discussions ranging from what people were wearing to solving the world's most intricate problems.  It was the perfect place to learn a new craft or listen to stories about your ancestors.

Porches allow you to sit outside and enjoy the peaceful tranquility of a summer rain, the sound of the trees as their leaves rustle in the breeze, watch the cautious flitting  around of the butterflies, and listen to the hum of the bees buzzing around as they gather pollen.  It's the perfect spot to watch the crazy antics of the squirrels and you can even hand feed birds tiny pieces of bread, which entices these beautiful creatures close enough so you can marvel at all of their tiny, brightly colored feathers.

By not building the big front porches, builders have helped to eliminate neighbors interacting with each other.  No longer do people sit out front, drink tea or lemonade, and enjoy each other's company.  Now everyone sits in their backyard, enclosed by a 6 foot (or higher) stockade-like privacy fence.  Homeowners have created their own prison-like compounds and padlocked gates, they've closed themselves off from everyone outside of their own household.

There are many people who know nothing about the people who live next door to them, not even so much as their names.  When homeowners aren't in their backyards, they are inside their homes with the blinds drawn and the front porch lights out.  Homes appear uninviting and as though they are fortified against a possible enemy invasion.

The loss of the front porch has caused homeowners to become so private that we don't live in "neighborhoods" anymore, we live in "subdivisions".  My kids wanted to know what the difference was between the two.  The dictionary, as always, describes the difference between the two perfectly:

Subdivision:  The act or fact of subdividing.  A portion of land divided into lots for real-estate development.

Neighborhood:  A district or locality, often with reference to its character or inhabitants. A number of persons living near one another or in a particular locality.  Neighborly feeling or conduct.  

Maybe I'm old-fashioned but I like knowing who my neighbors are, beyond just what their names are.  The front porch is the catalyst for that interaction.  The front porch is what changes a subdivided tract of land into a community of friends.  The front porch is where technology ends and real human interaction begins.  The front porch is where friendships begin and memories are created which last a lifetime and beyond.  The front porch............... it needs to make a comeback.

Written by:  Christie Bielss