The Ants Go Marching Down – And OUT!

Four generations live in my home. I am the eldest, the matriarch. Like all matriarchs, I am the most influential person in the family.

OW! Sorry, I just choked on that last comment.

Anyway, what I find curious about our "situation" is that we all have different styles of handling things. 

Ants, for instance. I buy ant traps that draw ants by the millions. They drink in the poison, return to their homes, share the poison with their ant family, Jim Jones style, and voila, no more ants.

My oldest daughter has a different approach – grits –apparently the more humane approach to ridding the home of ants. Because by using grits instead of poison, the ants can watch each other EXPLODE!

The Private Life

Picture for a moment nasty women wearing combat boots. Suddenly images of Goldie Hawn in Private Benjamin pop into your head (not that Goldie Hawn is nasty – quite the contrary), but if you haven't seen that movie, please treat yourself to it, especially if you need a good laugh (as opposed to a bad laugh, which nobody needs). 

At one time, in my desperate need for money, I had considered joining the Navy (go ahead – laugh – but you'll laugh even more when you discover that the reason I would have chosen the Navy was because I liked the way their uniforms looked). I couldn't leave my baby, though, (at the time I had only one child) so I had to consider other options.

Just recently one of my granddaughters, in contemplating a way to financially help her family, considered joining the Army, Navy, Air Force, or Marines, but decided instead to work at my youngest daughter's upscale consignment boutique and to sell Scentsy. Perhaps we all give joining the service a thought at some point during our lives, and many actually join.

I was not one of them. I would never have made good naval material due to the physical exertion the Navy would have required of me. With absolutely no upper body strength whatsoever, I would have whined like Goldie Hawn's character, Pvt. Judy Benjamin. I doubt seriously that I would have made it through basic training anyway – convertible handbags to backpack, comfortable beds to bunk – or maybe even ground – no thank you – I'd have been begging to go home.

IF (big IF) I had somehow made it through basic training, I might have improved physically, and I might have earned the right to retire as a high-ranking officer. Today I would be sitting on the back porch of a beautiful home, high on a hill, overlooking a lake, and typing this blog.

I admire our service men and women who stay the course and rise above the grueling, never ending work (special thank you to my Marine son, Greg). 

From my car, as I look upon my console cup holder, my lightweight cooler, and a trunk filled with luggage, I contemplate the life I did not live and thank God that I am not living out of my car – though it looks as if I do while I prepare for a drive across the country with my grandchildren to visit my Marine son (their father). 

When we arrive in Virginia, I might suggest we watch Private Benjamin. I think we all would get a kick out of watching it.

Little Things

Posted by Gaylord Campbell I learned something new today! I was surfing the internet and landed uponshopelectricityratestexas.com. I didn't even know this was an option in Texas. I have lived here for thirteen years and never heard anything about it. I asked my neighbor about it and she was all surprised that I hadn't heard anything about it. She said she had had a fixed rate for years now. Have you ever been doing laundry or put on a jacket for the first time in the winter and reached into the pocket to find a twenty dollar bill? That is what this was like! Some people get excited over the big things like a vacation to Disney Worldor a new car; I get so giddy about little things like a new shower curtain or a low rate or a drawer full of new shiny silver ware. Does that make me crazy? I'm telling you, I can buy new silver ware and will open the silver ware drawer just to look at it! Does anyone else do this?

There They're There

My four-year-old grandson, Nolan, had asked me if I was going to see Taylor, Kaden, and Zac, three of my other children, on the Saturday that one of them (Kaden) was celebrating his birthday. 

Every week I care for Taylor, Kaden, and Zac, so I told him that, yes, every time I'm there, they're there.

He said, "What does THAT mean?"

And I said, "What does what mean?"

He said, "There, they're, there. What does that mean?"

Don't you just love the English language?

Video is of Taylor, Kaden, Zac, Audrey, and Nolan singing a Christmas carol. 

The Coffee Thief

My grandson, Nolan, with his mommy (my daughter), Brittney

One of my grandsons, Nolan, has loved coffee ever since he first tried it (by sneaking it) at the age of 2. He's four and a half now. 

We have often found him sneaking off with somebody's coffee and hiding out in a corner or under the table drinking coffee. He doesn't care what kind of coffee we drink, either, whether it's his mom's heavily cream-flavored coffees, or his dad's black coffee. He just loves coffee.

Yesterday, when my daughter, Brittney, treated me to a frap from Starbucks, Nolan tried to sneak mine. I quickly grabbed it away, because I know that within seconds he will have downed the entire cup. He put on his pouty face, and Brittney told him he could have "a sip" of hers.

However, for Nolan a sip = 6 huge gulps and I said to Brittney, "I don't think Nolan understands the concept of "a sip."

This morning Nolan told his mom, "I just had a lot of your coffee, because I don't know what a sip is, right?" 

Automobiles and the Lemon Law

As my children will attest, I've never been very lucky when it came to automobiles, although I must admit I have learned from my mistakes. Probably the worst, and potentially fatal, car I owned actually belonged to my oldest daughter (and believe me when I tell you how fortunate it was that the "car" was not in her possession when it exploded). 

My three youngest kids and I were living just south of Chicago at the time. The engine literally blew up, and the car caught on fire. Fortunately when I first smelled something suspicious, I scrambled to get everybody out of the car, and I am eternally grateful that my oldest daughter who was 16 at the time, was not in the car. Having little driving experience, the smell might not have alerted her to danger. The fact that neither she nor I were driving down the expressway when it happened is another reason to be forever grateful.

Throughout the years, whether I was living in New York, Illinois, or California, I have had the worst luck with cars. One of them looked like a cloud of smoke (embarrassing), because it took 2 cans of oil a day, one of them required me to climb into the passenger seat because I had to belt the door to the steering column, and the doors on another auto would randomly open, for reasons unknown, WHILE WE WERE DRIVING!

Yes, I dealt with unscrupulous car dealers, and though I am more careful now, I should have taken advantage of the services provided by California Lemon Law attorneys. Lemon Law attorneys in California could have protected my interests and held those car dealerships accountable. 

I could have used them in Illinois as well. I have a feeling that one of the dealerships I dealt with while living in Illinois was served countless summons, because the whole dealership has disappeared. Even today, when I drove past the enormous lot on my way to Midway Airport, the lot sat vacant. I can't help but wonder how many lives that dealership endangered, because the lemon they sold me lost an engine, a transmission, AND a starter shortly after I bought it. 

Today I demand a SAFE car with an excellent transmission, engine, and starter. I also require good tires. But if ever I purchase another car that turns out to be a lemon, I guarantee you, I WILL take advantage of that Lemon Law! 

Another "Aww" Moment

Kaden & Zac Taking a Bubble Bath

Last night, when I asked Zac (4), one of my grandsons, to give me a hug goodnight, he raced up to me and jammed his head into my chin. My immediate response was "OW!"

His immediate response was to grab my face and ask, "Are you OK? Are you bleeding?"

My heart melted when I looked at him. Though he HAD to have been hurt, his first thought was for me. I held his little face in my hands and he started to cry. "Am I bleeding?" He asked. I told him no and hugged him.

"Will I get a bruise?" 

"Probably, Zac. Thank you for being so thoughtful." And he continued to cry while I held him some more.

Earlier in the day, Kaden (almost 7), Zac's older brother, brought home his backpack and I looked through his home work. When I read his paper about what he would do if he had $100, I almost cried.

People wonder why I watch my grandchildren so much. They think my kids are taking advantage of me by asking me to watch them so often. I'm grateful that I get to spend so much time with them. Can you see why?

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