Like a Dummy ! (I Fell for a Scam)

     I won't make any excuses. I do know better. If something is too good to be true, it probably is, but in my defense, I've seen these types of things in the past, and they were real.  I have been shopping online for a guitar, and I finally bought one through eBay. When you do anything online, the internet talks to itself, coming up with really cool (and not so cool) things that either match what you're looking at or are related to it. Today was no different, and yes, I fell for it. I'm a dummy.

    I was on Facebook when a post from a well-known company caught my attention - they were giving away a certain model of guitar to make room for the newer model. I thought, "OK, it's legit" because it had the logo of a well-known company, and they do sell an enormous amount of guitars worldwide. They could, if they wanted to, sell off the latest model for next to nothing and get you to send them shipping money. It wasn't beyond the pale of what could happen; except it was NOT a real offer. It was a scam.

    After thinking about it for a minute, but not verifying online, I paid the $14.87 for shipping after "qualifying," and yes, I knew that the qualifying thing was a rouse; everyone qualifies. They just need information for their books. I gave false answers because my age and household size are no one's business. The fact that I talk about it all the time is one thing,  but to answer the question on a form is another. I'm old, and I have a kid still living with me, but she's a roommate, so I can't spank her anymore.

    Five seconds after I hit the send button, my phone pings. It's the bank. They detected fraudulent activity. They called me about 4 minutes later to ask if I had made the purchase. I told the truth, yes, I had, but I didn't want it to go through if it was fraud.  The man explained that since I agreed to the purchase, it couldn't be considered fraud, but I should monitor future transactions, as they might attempt to charge it again. OK, I can do that. Then it bothered me; why had I been so dumb? I could have checked first before buying the thing. I knew better, but since it was just $14.87, I figured it was no big deal.

    Listen, if it's too good to be true, it's not real.  I don't have to get a new card, but I'm going to on Monday. I'm going to go into the bank and get a new card just in case. I don't have to, but it's better than wondering if these jerks will try to do it again a month later, two months...I'm just going to get a new card. I looked at my transactions, and the bank didn't let that one go through. That's good. I really like those people. It's actually a credit union, not a bank, but I like them. They've always had my back.

    It's really sad how other people use and abuse folks. They literally sit around and design websites and social media tactics to steal from others. You know they aren't saved. They don't have Christ, and that's the worst of it. These people may get my money - some did in the past. I have Jesus in my soul, in my heart, my mind, my life. I'm the true winner here. I will send up a prayer for these morons, hoping they can stop their corruptness long enough to listen to the truth, because it really does matter. There will come a day that each of us dies - I want them to see Jesus with a smile on His face when it's their time to die. 

    My word of wisdom for the day is "VERIFY".  Just do a quick Google search if you think something seems a little too good. I may be a good thing, it may be real, but it could also be a lie. You don't need to go through the trouble or the hassle. It's not fun. I wish I could say this is the only time this has happened to me, but it's not. I have always been a bit too trusting. I need to work on that, which is the saddest part of all.

PHOTO CREDIT: Pinterest.com 

Ebay! (I Had Forgotten About Them)

     I used to be addicted to buying things on eBay. That was until I found Amazon! You can't really buy used guitars on Amazon, so I hit up Facebook Marketplace instead.  For about a month, I was looking up several vintage black Fender guitars because that's what I wanted. I love the white ones too, and I may end up doing that, but for now, I'm buying a solid black one. I wanted a vintage guitar because I wanted the thing to have a past. I wanted to learn from it, and to listen to it as much as it learned to listen to me.

    I know, that's silly of me. I realize that, but it's my world, my fantasy, my guitar, and therefore, my decision. I went on Marketplace, and while there were plenty of guitars for sale, including vintage ones, I noticed a shortage of black Fender acoustic guitars. There were a few, though, and I wrote to the owners asking questions. Mostly, I looked at where they were living (the owners) and tried to see myself driving that far for a $100 guitar. I had set my price in my head, knowing what they go for on Marketplace and at garage sales.

    Garage sales are NOT the best places to look for a guitar, or even to hope to find one. If you do, it's unlikely to be the black Fender, and if it is, they typically think it is far more valuable than I do. I'm not a master. No, I'm more of what YouTube guitar trainer Tony Polecastro would call a "Dabbler". I don't want to be a dabbler anymore. I want to be a player. I have determined in my head and my heart that I will be a player, and I will start that practice almost immediately. I have to wait until tomorrow because it's getting late; otherwise, it would be immediate.

    So, on Marketplace, I found three (3) good candidates I was very interested in. All of them needed to be restrung, which I expected. All of them were more than 20 miles from my house, with one being 100 miles away. That one was last on my list. The first one was sold almost as soon as I had arranged to meet the woman. She texted to say it had sold. OK, there's always number 2...until nope, it sold too. He mentioned taking less, which made me wonder why I often give people what they ask. I do. I see the price and I pay it if it's a good price. 

    Well, I was about to close Marketplace down when an ad popped up on my other screen for eBay - and you wouldn't believe what was on it! Of course, you would believe it, because the internet speaks to everything and everyone. If I'm looking up guitars on Marketplace, a signal goes out to all the places that sell guitars, I'm sure. Anyway, eBay advertised a black Fender and it's used. I won't buy a new guitar. I looked, and they had a lot of them! They had a multitude of them - so many, I was able to set my price and look at just the ones that fit my budget (plus shipping).

    I tried to sign in, but it had been too long and my password no longer worked. I had to call their customer service to verify my identity since I had changed my phone number. By the time I finished dealing with them, I was ready to get on the thing and buy myself a guitar and be done with it. I was pretty happy that they wanted to verify who I was. I appreciate all the safety regs, but c'mon! They didn't like any of my password choices until I added a special character, along with the obligatory capital letters, lower-case letters, and at least one number! Done!

    I told myself the $33.70 shipping cost was fine since the item comes strung, cleaned, and with a case. I bought it for $109 and it will be brought to my house! The person I bought it from owns a store that sells a wide variety of items. He has sold over 118,000 items and has a 97% positive rating. I'm going to trust him. I don't know him, but he and his wife are in the little picture on the site, and they're smiling. I know...that's not a good reason to trust him. I trust the 97% positive rating for over 118,000 items sold. That's what I trust. Trust but verify! (Ronald Reagan)

    So, now I have a new black Fender guitar coming to me. I've looked it up on the Fender Serial Number site, and it was made in 2024. It was made in China, and has one sizeable scratch on the side, but I'm OK with that. I'll consider it a war scar, and we'll be good. I needed to come up with a good name for him; all of my guitars are male. If you don't agree or like that, you don't have to; you're free to call your guitar whatever you wish. I have decided to call this one "Cash" for Johnny Cash. He played the same type of guitar back then, and I really like that man's music.

    I wanted an older guitar, one that had a history. This one was either bought, not used, or damaged and not bought. I don't know which. He ended up either at a wholesaler or a clearance sale, probably. He was sold to me by a guy who sells just about everything he can find from estate sales, garage sales, clearing houses, etc. I hope he finds joy living with me. I know I will give him a good home. I said earlier I won't buy a new guitar. This one hasn't been "owned" before; it was just bought and possibly played with a bit. However, since it was picked up and resold wholesale, I managed to get a great deal. The same style, color, and model newly purchased is $210. I feel good about my $109 (plus shipping).

    Here's what Cash looks like. He arrives in a few days. I'm pretty happy about it.

Snakes! Snakes! More Snakes!

     Again, if you know me, you know I like snakes. I don't like them all, of course. I only like the ones I can handle that won't squeeze or bite me. I'm a big ball python fan, and I happened to be in the right place but at the wrong time today.  Laura and I went to Exotic Pets in OKC to get crickets for the lizards, and there they were, about 20 full-grown, previously used as breeders ball pythons. They were all various sizes, but mostly fully grown to about six feet or so, and they were priced out of this world cheap! $25 per snake. Yes, that's it, only $25 per snake.

    One or two of them were slightly brown or a light golden color. The bulk of them were exactly like every other ball I've ever had, and there were darker ones as well. I preferred the golden, Laura liked it, and the darker. I really love the balls with "alien head" patterns; those are my favorite. Well, I say we were in the right place, but we had just purchased two agama lizards, which will be delivered to us tomorrow, so our last tank is being occupied. We could have bought a snake, but then we'd have had to purchase another tank. I think we have enough lamps, bulbs, hides, and foliage to create another enclosure (or fifteen), but we didn't have the tank! Oh...well, maybe next time.

    I've given up my snakes in the past because I simply can't feed live animals to them. I don't mind if they are trained to have frozen or thawed food, but I can't bear to buy them mice and/or rats knowing they're going to be eaten. I just can't do it. I mean, if Laura thought she could, I think we've been through it before. We end up with 11 mice, 4 rats, and really hungry snakes. If they'd just eat the veggies...if they would just eat kale! 

    Well, anyway, we chose not to get one and bid them all farewell. Rose was interested in them; she went with us to the pet store. She thought they were interesting, but I think she prefers them to be in their tanks, too. I'll grab a snake  out of the cage and wrap it around my arm and work, but these snakes would have taken a while to get to know. They were already fully grown. You can't expect them to just love you the moment you bring them into the house. Speaking of being in my house, my bestie doesn't like them, and would prefer that they live in other people's houses as well - so there's that.

    If I could get someone to come in once a week and feed them without me seeing, hearing, or knowing about the live rat or mice -- I'd be OK, but I just can't. I know my limits. I can't even use glue boards to catch them; I have to use live traps, and then I threaten to keep them when I catch them. That's when they start to complain and protest, so I end up putting them back outside to survive another day. It is what it is - I'm too soft.

Photo Credit: Zen Habitats. 

Because I'm Extra. Firemen it is!

     I had to call into work today and say I would be a couple of hours late. I actually let one of the managers know last night, but followed up with the hard, cold facts of it all this morning. When you're throwing a party and invite three of Oklahoma City's bravest to your home to check out your AC before it erupts into a full-blown fire hazard, you just don't have the strength or energy to show up to work on time - even if you work from home. It's just a fact.

    I was sleeping at 10:43 p.m., which is what I do at that time, when my daughter came into my room to tell me that the hallway ceiling was leaking. Earlier in the day, we didn't know that the water we saw on the floor in the hall was coming from the ceiling, and I spanked the dog, my dog, for peeing in the house. You can now tell me just how terrible I am. I know, and she knows, and she got the biggest apology for it, and I gave her ice cream. She's good. We're good.

    The ceiling in the hall was bulging and threatening to pop. Just like you see in the movies! I decided to NOT pop it, because you know the mess that would have been all over my floors. I, instead, called the Oklahoma City Fire department non-emergency line (which is the police line, and they transfer you) so they could come check it out and make sure we weren't asking for trouble. 

    So, around 11:05 p.m., three really handsome men, all built like the burliest of burls you've ever seen (two bald, one not the least bit bald) came pulling around the corner with sirens and lights - I didn't know they did that for non-emergencies. They came in and got straight to work. Turns out neither Laura nor I knew where the breaker box is in our house - we found it, and no, it's not in a normal place. Yes, these men laughed, but they were looking too!!

    They turned off the AC breaker and the unit, and then crawled into the attic access, which, by the way, is located in the main bathroom. See, I live in an extra house too! They crawled up there and found that the original unit, a 3-year-old unit, had not been installed properly. It was just a little off, and over time, with vibration and such, it moved a little from where the drain hole was and was collecting in the platform above the bathroom and hall. So nice.

    They wanted to know if I had a pie pan or some strong aluminum to bend into a makeshift drain assist, something that would hold until the AC guy could come to fix it permanently. I did. I had one, but I had to dump the pie into another pan. I asked, but they're not allowed (or supposed) to take food from people they don't know -- their parents would be proud. They said the pie looked amazing and appreciated the aroma of baby back ribs I had been cooking overnight in the crockpot. One of the men took a look!

    They fixed the problem, loved on the dogs, said their goodbyes, and I went to sleep with the AC being temporarily repaired. I hadn't really noticed that during the day, it had gone from 69 to 74 in the house, I should have noticed that.  They fixed it, and I slept well. The AC guy came by today too, but I'm not gonna lie, he couldn't hold a candle to any of the firemen...nope. He's a nice guy, but he's old enough to be my dad, I think. He was pretty old -- but very good at his job. 

    So, I sent photos to my boss of the firefighters at my house and the blaring red and blue lights outside my house. I told him I'll be sleeping in and not to expect me until 9:30 this morning. I will say, my dreams were rather nice -- rather nice indeed!  I love a good-looking cop, but give me a firefighter every time. 

Photo Credit: Me!!

    

Goodbye Big Lots - Hello Ollie's!

     If you have hung out with me for any time whatsoever, you'll know I love a good bargain. The only thing about bargains that I love more than shopping for them, is shopping for them in a big wonderfully open and spacious store that is literally all about the price of whatever it is you may be hunkering to buy that you would have bought at Big Lots, with the possible exception of clothes. However, they may not have a clothes section, but Ollie's does have a book section! I was forever in that today.

    I drove to Yukon, Oklahoma, a place I have been to at least a million times. It's on the outskirts of Oklahoma City, and if you drive just over the big metal bridge at Overholser, you can be in Canadian County, which then takes you straight into Yukon. It's accessible from the north, the west, and the south from Oklahoma City.

    My favorite way to get to Yukon, has always been on 39th Expressway, because you go through Bethany first. I'm from Bethany, so that makes me smile a little. I wish I could live in Bethany now, but the area has taken a beating in the past 50 years or so, and even with the commerce and the great (2) colleges that are situated in Bethany, Oklahoma, it's still not that safe in terms of walking the streets. Not like it used to be. That's where I literally walked from 2212 N. Mueller to 3500 N. Mueller from the age of 4 to about my 18th year when I got a car.

    Yukon (and West OKC) have an Ollie's and I am just too delighted! It's a messy Big Lots. Sort of like a better thriftstore than Goodwill, but it's not a donation place. All the merchandise is new, and could have been overstock from another store. It's usually generic or average, but we need so much of it. I'll give you an example of what I bought today. It was my first time in the store, so I had no idea what to expect. I should have videoed.

    I bought a little rug for my cat to sleep on. He sleeps on top of a table in my office so he can keep an eye on the neighbors. He's a creeper, really, but they don't realize he has fantasies about them. They often wave to him! The little "rag" rug has a lot of color and you've seen them everywhere. In Dollar General, they are $6.00, which isn't bad. It's 2' x 3' and really nice. I got it for $2.99 at Ollie's.  I bought an Anchor brand 9x9 cake pan. It was $4.99, whereas online it was $15.  C'mon, I'm just getting started. 

    I bought a great recipe book (with pictures) for people with diabetes. I don't have it, but I don't want it either, so eating healthy makes sense. It lists for $24.99, and it was $4.99 there. It may be older, I don't know, but it's fantastic!  I bought a big silicone spoon and a spatula, both for $2.99. I really needed it, but I just hadn't gone out of my way to get it. I got it. I bought a Martha Stewart heavy-duty loaf pan for $2.99 - no, I'm not kidding. 

    There was one thing I saw, but didn't buy, thinking, "No, I'm not buying that," even though I sort of wanted to. It was ORANGE creampop flavored Cap'n Crunch. That is not a lie; I had to do a double-take. I may post it. It's too crazy. The place has rugs, towels, plates, books, school supplies, Halloween stuff, and so much more. Of course, there are food things, makeup, and toiletries. There is really just about anything you'll find at Big Lots. I saw full-sized sheet sets for $12, and I'll go back for that!

    I'll end up going as often as I went to Big Lots, which was at least two times a week. I'm thinking Yukon now, instead of El Reno, but I haven't ruled either out. I think Yukon could be more beneficial since it's closer for my best friend to drive to see me, and it has more horse boarding opportunities for Laura. For me, it's close to hospitals and food shopping (even though I do my grocery shopping through the Kroger app). I will stop by to pick up something now and again.

    Ollie's, if you have one, is a good thing. I hope you find as much joy in these places as I do. I met a great couple who have grandkids and English Bulldogs. We talked for about five or six minutes while waiting for the cashier; they were nice. That's another thing I love about all of Oklahoma - we are talkers. We don't really care if we don't know you; we'll still chat.  By the way, I'll know you're not from here if you think you can still drive over the big metal bridge. 😆

Bilbo on his new rag rug.  He's a 20-pound cat.

This is some crazy...  I took both photos.

The Little Black Book (In The Dark)

     This is how it starts. I'll be working from home on my computer, rather than in the office, which is located in the same space. When I'm at the home computer, I'm home, and when I'm on the office computer, I'm in the office. The two spaces meet in the middle and form an "L" shape. I have one chair that rolls around on a big, thin rug-mat. I can, and I do, morph from being at home to being in the office within a fraction of a second - several times a day.

    Oftentimes, while at home, I am watching murder shows, thinking about the cases and the responders, the killers, the victims, the villagers, communities, and those who are connected to the event. I sometimes, when I am in the office, decide to move a person who has either annoyed me, or who has refused to do their social and civic duty, from being just a person I must speak with during working hours, to the vats in my brain that contain the upcoming victims and/or "bad actors" in the next novel...or three.

    Sometimes, when I am watching murder shows or parts of crime shows, a particular scene will catch my attention, and I start rewriting it in my head, hoping to predict a different outcome or imagining how my version would unfold on screen. (I watch monitors, not televisions) Sometimes, I find myself writing notes as I watch, fully expecting to write about it later, but I inevitably end up changing key and minor details to create a new story altogether. 

    I did that yesterday. I got so involved in the new story that I stopped watching the one I was watching and decided to write the synopsis for mine. I'm currently writing the 7th installment of the Nick Posh Thriller series, but I'm already preparing to start work on the next book. I expect to finish this one by the end of September or early October. I have the bones of it written and have to flesh it out in my head over the next few weeks. Then, when the time comes, I'll pour myself into it and get it out of my head and into the little notebook I just bought to contain my thoughts.

    I bought two little black books, which are about the same size as the notebooks I use to write down my thoughts in the Posh books. I purposely chose the color black because the book will be dark. In fact, I'm titling it "In the Dark," and it will be a darker sort of story, not a mystery. It will showcase a few crimes and go through the daily events, routines, and history of a couple of responders, retired police who had to give up their needling cold case only to have it surface again. They come back out of retirement to help the rookie do the best job he can do.

    It's a good book already, and I haven't written it. I like some of the meat of it, though. I like the man in the freezer. I like that he wasn't murdered but kept because he was loved. I like a lot of things about it. No, I'm not worried about someone stealing my story - There are too many to choose from that have very similar beginnings, middles, and ends. No two stories, fiction or true, are alike. They can't be. They have different motives, reasoning, characters, involvement, timelines, spatial differences, and more. 

    Yep, the books are bought. I'm already scribbling in one of them. I won't title the second one just yet, but it will be similar to the first, showcasing the responders, those connected, and the impact of the murder or crime on everyone. It's never been about the crime to me, but the aftermath. That's where the intrigue comes in. Anyone can murder - it's the details that make the story, and depending on what or how you write those details, makes it a good story or not.

Photo Credit: Me.

    

Lesson Learned. No More Silicone in the Kitchen.

     When I was making soap at home, I bought quite a few silicone molds because I found them easier to work with in the kitchen, and they stood up to the heat. I found that Amazon sold them for a wide range of uses, including cupcakes, cakes, loaves, and more. I ditched my Pyrex and metal pans and replaced them with silicone. I regret that.

    Today, because I can, I made a really good hearty meatloaf for dinner, but I cooked it in a silicone loaf pan, and yeah...not going to do that again. It took much longer to cook, and it turned out a lot softer than usual. I will admit, I did mix an 80/20 and a 90/10 hamburger source, with a pound being 90/10 and 1/2 a pound being 80/20. That could have been a factor, but I'm blaming the silicone anyway. I don't like it.

    I had to stop using them when I made cupcakes, too. They never rose above the level of the pan, and they felt different; they were spongy or something. I blamed the brand of my mix, but now I'm thinking no, it's the pans. I'm going back to Pyrex and the standards that have always been my best friends in the kitchen. Goodbye modern menaces! It's back to the basics for me. (AND...the dang thing melted a little on the bottom! It's supposed to withstand heat!)

    The meatloaf turned out well otherwise. It has a really good taste to it, just not as firm as I wanted. I usually let it sit for 10-15 minutes after pulling it out of the pan, but when I tried to pick it up, it fell apart, so I'm not happy. It tasted really good, and I was happy to share it with the dogs (a little bit) along with mashed potatoes and crescent rolls. I should have made gravy, but I was upset about the loaf...see how affected I was? It's a terrible thing to mess with a woman's standards in the kitchen.

    I also bought a silicone colander, but I don't like it either. It's the type that pops out, not one that retains its original shape. This one punches down, folds up, and then you open it, pop it out to use, and put it back. Nah...done. I'm going back to the old-fashioned, cheap white plastic one I had once; I think I'll be visiting Dollar General soon. I tried looking these things up on Amazon and realized I could save at least 40-50% by going to the one store that I can never get out of easily -- it grabs me and forces me to search every single aisle when I go into it.

    I'll be OK. I know what I know, and to be honest, I knew better, but you try things, and you learn things. I hope I don't have to learn that one again - If I had my old Pyrex, the one I had for 30 years, things would be fine. I think it just got the best of me because I couldn't get all the dark stains out of the corners and the little handles. It wasn't pretty anymore. Well, I'd rather have good-tasting and good-looking food than pretty Pyrex...that may just be me, but I somehow doubt it.

    It's raining, or I'd head over to the Dollar General right now. I'll wait. I have enough meatloaf to last two more days anyway. Then again, I can't make the banana bread until I get a new loaf pan. I could make a trip after I do the dishes. You just never know.

    

Photo Credit: Walmart.com

Amicus Curiae! Half-Way There!

     I'm about halfway through the book. I've just written Chapter 17, which is usually the best chapter for some reason. I really like it. I feel as if the meat of the story can happen around the 17th chapter. It's all uphill and full of conflicts from that point, right up to the time I find a way to solve and seal the deals that only I know about. I say that, it's not true. The characters in my book know long before I do what the ending will be, and how I will come to it - they write the book, not me. I just take the credit.

    Nick has decided to ship himself off to Edinburgh to be with his family. He's really alone without them, but he also has a good enough reason to spend weeks away from his work. He'll need to find a place for Keeper to stay, since he's going to be gone as long as he is. I'll add a mention in the storyline so people don't think my lead character has left his dog at home without anyone to tend to him.

    Good Bill, Bill Wright, at the Garvey House, will be in charge of Keeper, but before he's finished, the little fiesty Jack Russell will find his way into every apartment at 1211 Garvey. He'll have met, been invited to stay with, and slept with everyone in the house. That's something no one else can ever claim to have done. By the time Nick returns, he may have to pry the dog from their hands. I can only imagine -- I can only imagine because it hasn't happened yet. I don't know what I'll write until I write it.

    Going to Scotland makes a lot of sense because Nick will be testifying in a capital murder case in about 5 weeks and he'll need to be protected and kept under wraps until that happens. He's opening up a really big can of whoop ass that can't be sealed once it's been sworn to in court. He is the Amicus Curiae, he is the friend of the court, but not a friend to everyone in the courtroom. 

    What would happen if, maybe, a sheriff's deputy lost control of his firearm the day Nick crosses the street to give his testimony? These things happen. These things have happened in the past, and they could certainly happen again. He'll need to keep his wits and his friends about him. 

    

    Photo Credit: Pinterest (The Kerfoot Hotel in El Reno, Oklahoma)

I Survived Being Stung!

     Yes, yes, it is true, I have survived (so far) being stung by what I have to assume was a hornet. I say that I have to assume, because I didn't see it! I really didn't see the damn thing when it stung me. I don't know how one misses a huge flying monster coming directly toward them, but there I was, not seeing it. I had gone outside to feed the birds - something I do every day. I usually feed the birds, put out the flag, and check my mail, but today it was a different routine.

    I fed the birds, checked my mail, and then decided to make biscuits. I went back outside to put out the flag, when my eye caught a big rooted stem of what Laura and I call "the weed". It's massive, but since she had cut it down at one point sometime this summer, it wasn't as hard to handle. I went back inside the house and retrieved something to cover my hands. I know sometimes that weeds can be sticky, prickly, etc. I grabbed an oven mitt and proceeded to try to uproot the thing.

    It's not in the ground, but in a planter on the porch; a very deep planter, I will add. I'm over there pushing, pulling, twisting, and not getting anywhere because the roots of the thing are probably swirled around the base of the planter. While giving it a good heave, my knee was suddenly attacked! I did not see it! I only felt it. I knew, of course, what it was, but I never saw or heard it. Makes me think of the Americans in their fancy schmancy machines up around the skies somewhere and how they show up out of nowhere and hit their mark.

    I don't mind being warned, I would have run into the house screaming, trying my best to get away. As it was, I ran into the house screaming and knew I'd been hit! I let Laura know immediately, because I needed baking soda rather quickly. I knew she had some in her bathroom, but was hoping I could find a box in the refrigerator being used to soak up smells, or in the cabinet waiting to be used. I was out of luck. I did remember instantly, however, that when the Kroger delivery truck stops by today, I had actually ordered another box. 

    The bathroom box had to work. We use it to help clean toilets, but I put some in my bath as well. It's a wonderful additive; just so you know. I made a paste of the stuff using a little water, and slapped that thing right over the new red hole in my leg - the one starting the rumble, doing its best to change the landscape of my kneecap from its pastey whiteness to the heated red top that I could see forming. 

    When I hobbled back to the kitchen, I asked Laura for the liquid Benedryl, you know, the one I keep around just in case I get stung!  I haven't been stung in over 30 years, but I still keep the stuff around -- and I'm glad I did. I'm sleepy now, but I'll survive that too. It's imperative that you keep an ice pack in the fridge for these purposes; be prepared.

    I sat on the couch with my ice pack, the baking soda paste covering my knee, and every dog and cat in the house wondering what was happening. They were there for moral support, of course, but absolutely in my way mostly. There, on the couch, I rested. I let the dogs know I was in pain, but I also thanked them for their caring gestures. Kiba licked the baking soda that fell to the floor - but he wasn't all that happy about it.

    We waited the requisite 30 minutes to an hour before saying that I had survived; but I did read one article that says I'm not out of the woods just yet. Apparently, some of the symptoms can show up a day later; diarrhea, nausea, vomiting, and dizziness are the most common. I know why my head is swimming a bit right now, but that was self-inflicted. I gulped down a good swig of Benedryl! (well, CVS brand, but still) Laura and I know a lady who, after being bitten by some exotic bug her body wasn't immune to, died! This isn't that. The thing is probably very native to my home state.

    After being bitten by killer insects as a kid, I still remember the baking soda and ice pack thing. I wasn't stung that many times, but I remember one or two of those times, and the old remedy still works. I'll keep an eye out for anything other than the redness, puffiness around the sting area, and so forth. I've removed the ice pack and as my knee returns to its normal temperature, I am feeling little tingling in the red spot, but nothing too intense.

    AAHHHH...I guess I can garner a lot of little lessons from this. (a) keep baking soda handy at all times (b) keep an anti-allergy drug in liquid form (c) don't pull up roots that you haven't Googled for things that may call them home, and of course, how very grateful I am for my daughter and animals who immediately jumped into action to assist. I am blessed.

    If I do see one of those flying beasts, I'm taking my revenge.

Photo Credit: Oklahoma Magazine.

El Reno, a Hidden Memory.

     My mom is 90 years old. I remember when my grandpa was 90 and when my grandma was 90 - she lived to be 99, actually, and I hope Mom does as well. My mom lives in a city not too far from me, but circumstances keep us from seeing each other in person. I won't go into that, but I do have a chance to call her. She calls me too, and we try to have good talks. She enjoys it when I ask her questions about things, which makes her recall specific stories. 

    Today, I called her to ask her about where all of our animals came from because I knew a lot of them were in our house, because I brought them home, but before I started doing that, around the age of 9 or 10, we had a few dogs, so I asked her where they came from. To my surprise, and I really mean that, one of my dogs, a big, beautiful, full-blooded German Shepherd whom we called Lady Wayne, came from the same adoption center where I bought one of my dogs after I grew up! That was really cool. The center wasn't the town pound, it was an adoption place then, in 1970!

    Well, she liked talking about the old stuff, so I asked her if she had been out to El Reno much, because I love that city. I have a deep love for it, and she said, "Well, I think I know why." Tell me! She said that twice, when I was a kid, really young, under the age of 6 or 7, she and my dad took us kids out to the lake in that city, and once she and I went to the city itself to get groceries to take to the lake. She said I loved the city streets, the brick streets, the old buildings, and that I wanted to live there.

    I don't for the life of me remember the day itself. All of our lake stories seem to blend into one another. We swam in the same lakes we fished in, and we ate what we caught. I remember opening my eyes under water, and yes, it was red, dirty, muddy water, but I didn't care. One of my swimsuits, I recall, changed from pink to a red-brick color after a few trips to one or the other lakes. Lakes were free to swim in, and my parents couldn't afford to send all four of us to the public pools.

    We went to all the lakes and bigger ponds all over the central and southern parts of Oklahoma, and into Arkansas, where my daddy's family was from.  You really can't do that sort of thing now, not with all the pollution and craziness surrounding the lakes. Homeless camps have sprung up around them, and rangers can't always force people to obey the rules. There were transient people in the 60s and 70s, sure, but they weren't like they are now. It was a completely different time.

    I bet you anything that my mind drifts back to El Reno and Lake El Reno, and I remember more than I remember that I know. I can see that being the case, because when I sold insurance out that way years ago, it was as if I knew the downtown area, the streets, and the landmarks. I never knew how I knew, but now I do know. I had been there before. There was an old corner burger joint that we used to go to, and the one thing I remember was that it was down the street from where an old train depot was; I loved listening to the trains coming and going. We could hear them whistle at the lake, but we could see them in town.

    I don't believe there were any passengers riding the trains in my youth because if there had been, my mom would have found a way to take us on the train now and again. She loved trains. I remember that, and have no memory of her actually riding one. She and my sister were able to do it when we got older, but it was to Watonga, because I remember they got off the train and bought Watonga cheese! How fun. 

    So, it stands to reason, and it all makes sense, that my love for the city I may (hopefully) end up in came from a time when I was forming my life memories. Mom told me today that she and Dad considered moving us there, but they were concerned that the school system lacked a well-developed program for students with special needs, particularly for one of my siblings. That's another interesting thing; we never knew they considered it. As kids, we didn't know, so we never talked about it later. It was a parent thing - and since we didn't move, we didn't talk about it. When I mentioned El Reno today, and that I am looking at homes there, it clicked! 

    Well, do what you need to do, and what you want to do. Remember to love one another, and to ask questions. The old folks won't be with us forever -- but while they're here, squeeze all the love out of them that you can.

Photo Credit: Linda McKinney (my sister) - Mom, Becky Stringfellow, born in Thrift, Texas, but raised in OKC.