ALL THIS? REALLY?

Grandma Mae stood in the kitchen at the tipped forward mirror above a sink with a slop pail under it. Below the mirror was a shelf with a curtain which hid the things she did to maintain her beauty.

She was a tiny woman with a beautiful summer tan from working in the gardens. At night, she would later up her face with Pond's Cold Cream. I bought some a while back, more the aroma of her than the product itself.

Recently I read of all the things one should do to save their skin from the sun exposure. Grandma Mae would have lost the rat in her rolled up on the back of her neck hair style if she knew the products listed cost $725.00. The list did not look like the local supermarket items. Maybe it is the price of beauty. Much of it comes from great skin, like Mae and my dad.

I don't think there is a product on the market that will take the wrinkles off the left side of my face from squinting and driving. A friend in New York will have plastic surgery after all the cancer is removed; that side of her face will be smooth--She questioned if she could get a two for one!

What I did glean from the article was a starting point, that is exfoliate with a product that includes 8% glycolic. I will take my camping stool to the store and read labels on some afternoon at the lake when it is windy, raining, or just too hot to be on the water getting sun burned.

Mean while, used sunscreen, as I do every day year around because I mix it with my face paint.

e

TOO MANY GEESE? HOW COULD THAT BE?

Among the splendid things to watch while fishing are the Canada Geese. The practice flights in small groups are practical as one after another take the lead and form a V in the sky above.


My sweet Thomas hunted wild life in his youth. Recently, while fishing a flock was in flight above us. “They are setting their wings”, Tom said. And sure enough, they indeed landed on the water near us and disappeared into the wild rice patch.


There is a magazine my children read when young. One of the articles was on observation. Let’s say, in the case of the geese, you said to me, “The geese have been here”. I would know that because the wild rice has been reduced to stubble. If you asked the same question near a dock, I would know because of the poop on the deck. Or if you said to me, “Watch you step, I would know what littered the ground.


There are restaurants with docks for boaters to come to dinner by boat rather than by land. A young man on crutches was having quite a time finding clean areas to set his crutches. The rest of the family were doing the goose step.


It is said that geese have become so over populated they are raising the bag limit. In the state of New York, they are killing them off, last year 14K birds were killed.


It's hard to believe, but a little over 100 years ago, over-hunting drove Canada geese close to extinction. New York State officials decided that the birds needed help if they were to survive and, starting in 1958 and extending to 1963--only five years, wildlife experts released scores of geese into the state's forests. Before long huge flocks were settling throughout the state. Today, officials face the opposite problem: There are more than 200,000 geese in New York, and they have begun endangering public health by soiling parks and lakes, stripping farmers' fields and getting in the way of airplanes.


It is said a geese caused the plane crash named, The Miracle on the Hudson.


Yet all the poop and problems caused by this over population, they remain one of the most beautiful of water fowl. We like to watch how one or two are on sentry as the others eat. They preen and bath and go tail feathers up to eat off the bottom of the shallows in the lake.

They care for their young in groups. It isn’t unusual to see 25 or so ducklings of different stages of group following an adult while another adult brings up the rear of the long line swimming in the lake.


And there markings? Magnificent. Once you see one you always will know them again just like you would loons.


e

WE ARE AMAZING

Truly...........we are amazing.

The case is simple. Someone is having surgery. One person finds it dreadful and thinks only about how heavy hearted SHE is, another finds a way to have humor to lightened the day for the patient, and yet another is only encouraging in a loving way.

All three are normal. Dreadful and heavy always sees the worst. If you ever want uplifting from her, you would have to strap her to a rocket and send her to the moon.

The humorous one does not make light of the surgery but finds things to visit with the patient about to tickle their funny bone. Does it not say a merry heart doth good like medicine?

And then there is the encourager. The support system for all of us. The huge heart, although she has her own bag of tricks to deal with, reaches deep inside of her ever flowing stream of goodness to be the best of the best.

It is too bad ENCOURAGING can't help DREADFUL.

Yet, so it is, we are all amazing and are detailed and programed, are we not?

Surgery went well. We are encouraged. And a merry heart doth good.

e

OLD TRUNKS DOES NOT LIKE FLIES

Old Trunks does not like flies. She has not liked flies her entire life. As a child, she rejoiced when eating at a place commonly called the greasy spoon, the ringlet fly paper that hung from the ceiling caught hundreds and hundreds of them. They all seemed to blend in with the smoke drenched knotty pine walls.


She does not like flies. The deer flies bite. The house flies get in the truck at the lake and come into the house as if invited.


Grandpa Benhard used to sit at the table and kill the flies which landed on the table. Did he wash his hands? Probably not, did his wife wash the table? Most likely she could see the little specs of fly poop through her flour dusted lenses. Grandpa said they didn’t eat much.


He grew up without window screens. How would one keep them out?


Old Trunks grew up with window screens and no air conditioning but a mother who battered a thousand in fly killing. She did not, however, get the ones that hid in the white criss cross curtains. Those she would find in the fall house cleaning when the curtains were washed.


One fly came home from the lake via another trip north and west. It pestered for greater than 350 miles that day. It came in the house.


Last night we got down the fly swat. This was the first one this year.


While ironing it pestered. I tried to steam it and press it but it was to quick. Then, it followed to the computer and with mother’s vengeance, the mighty swing was taken. The fly was stuck in the web of the swatter.


The fly is no more.

Old Trunks does not like flies!
　
　
　
　
　

WHY ARE GRANDPARENTS WERE HAPPY

Just got this from a cousin in Oregon!


WHY OUR GREAT-GRANDPARENTS WERE
SOOO HAPPY

'Why Our Great-Grandparents Have Such Fond
Memories Of Their Youth...' (I'm surprised that they remember anything!!)

A bottle of Bayer's 'Heroin'. Between 1890 and 1910 heroin was sold as a
non-addictive substitute for morphine.

It was also used to treat children suffering with a strong cough.


Metcalf's Coca Wine was one of a huge variety of wines with cocaine on the market. Everybody used to say that it would make you happy and
it would also work as a medicinal treatment.

Mariani Wine. Mariani wine (1875) was the most famous Coca
wine of it's time. Pope Leo XIII used to carry one bottle with him all the time. He awarded Angelo Mariani (the producer) with a Vatican gold medal.

Maltine. Produced by the Maltine Manufacturing Company
of New York ..It was suggested that you should take a full glass with or after every meal.

Children should only take half a glass..

A paper weight: A paper weight promoting C.F. Boehringer
& Soehne Mannheim , Germany ). They were proud of being the biggest producers in the world of products containing Quinine and Cocaine.

Opium for Asthma: At 40% alcohol plus 3 grams of opium per tablet, It didn't cure you, but you didn't care...

Cocaine Tablets (1900)..
All stage actors, singers, teachers and preachers had to have them for a maximum performance. Great to 'smooth' the voice.

Cocaine drops for toothache. Very popular for children in 1885. Not only did they relieve the pain, they made the children very happy!

Opium for new-borns. I'm sure this would make them sleep well (not
only the Opium, but also 46% alcohol)! It's no wonder they were called, 'The Good Old Days'!!

From cradle to grave...Everyone Was Stoned!!!




=

THE LANGUAGE OF THE FAN

The lady appears briefly at the balcony, slowly fanning herself, and returns inside, shutting the balcony means "I can’t go out"

If she appears briefly at the balcony, excitedly fanning herself, and quickly goes inside, leaving the balcony open: "I’ll go out soon"

Well, such as it is with the language of the fan. Grandma didn't have a balcony on the soddy, most likely she didn't have a fan, rather cooled herself with a rag of some sort.


Resting the fan on her lips: meant, "I don’t trust you" If the fan was still in use, how often would YOU use it in this fashion?



Running her fingers through the fan’s ribs: "I want to talk to you"

Slowly fanning herself : "Don’t waste your time, I don’t care about you"

Quickly fanning herself: "I love you so much"


Quickly and impetuously closing the fan: "I’m jealous"

Hitting any object: "I’m impatient"

Yea, I gotta get a fan.

e

SMOKE SIGNAL GENERATION

Oh, it is going to be one of those days~~~~~~~~~~~~!!!

We went to Verizon last night, surely the phone we have had for four years could be replaced with something better so Tom didn't have to stand on the roof of the trailer to call Fargo from the lake. Surely. Well, the lady that helped us had been at Verizon for two years. She had never even seen a phone with an antenna. Good grief.

Now the idea of the cell phone came into the Johnson house one Christmas as a two year plan at $55 a month. Of course, we never use it so it was tossing coins into the trash. When that contract was up, , we got a new phone, one that could be used to link up via dial up to the Internet at the lake. Although it was slow, it was still a connection to the outside world.

When that year was up, we did not renew, kept the phone and went strictly to prepay which is $16.05 a month. Each month, according to the sticker on the calendar, I renew the policy via the phone. I think we have about $325 in credit on it now, down a little because Tom used it at the lake to call Beth.

So, he isn't in favor of standing on the roof so that is how we came to the decision to go to the shop in the Mall last night. The place was very busy; little girls about 8 and 10 where playing games on the Droid. Other's mingled. People cruised about. After a goodly amount of time, they called Tom's name. By this time, we had felt the key pad on all the phones, looking for something that is raised because, of course, Tom has no feeling in his fingers because of the Raynauds Syndrome. We found two flip phones with decent pads; we had made a decision. It just so happened they were on promotion and could be bought at the two year contract price without buying into the contract, that is: Keeping the prepaid. A deal? Us?

Of course, the phone we wanted was not in stock. OF COURSE! Oh, the Johnson curse. Or is that oh, the Johnson's cursed. She assured us that it would be much like it, the numbers would be raised. Tom asked what if it wasn't like the other? She told us there was a restocking fee of $35. Don't they just get you coming and going? Geez.

Now, we go to THAT store because they may be busier, but they also seem more knowledgeable. And it this case, it was good we did buy it there instead of a kiosk type set up at Sam's. Why you ask? Because when she asked for the phone number to look up the information, it was a different number than we thought we had. Ode to joy.

It appears that when we switched from the $55 dollar policy to the prepaid, they switched the numbers. I am certain they told us but we never gave it any thought. And since I prepay by phone, it was never questioned. I am maniac about keeping information and did not find anything in the file to support the number. Oh well, I may have had a brain fart that day.

There was a notice in the in box this morning, the phone has been shipped.

Now that just goes to show how cell phone oriented we are.

DRIFT WOOD OR DRIFTED WOOD

Eons ago, the crew gave my parents the most beautiful grouped drift wood I will ever see. It was two pieces joined together with long iron bolts to hang on the brick wall in the living room at the farm. The display was massive. The living room was 16x20 feet and the brick wall was all one wall. It was a piece that would only fit there. When the farm was sold, the drift wood stayed.

Now, my question to you is: Is drift wood and drifted wood the same? Can you get a piece of gnarled root out of a lake that is low, dry it and call it drift wood or is it still drifted wood? If Mother were alive, she would say it was not the same but I never questioned why she was so determined there was a difference. She just was. Since she is deceased, I can disagree. All wood that drifts into shore is drift wood.

According the Norwegians, which you can all tell, but you can't tell them much, the first humans were formed out of elm and ash driftwood by the Norse god Odin.

Now that brings me to the topic of a piece of root Tom found in the harbor. It is fairly flat on one side so it can be hung on a wall. After it was cleaned and dried, we kept turning it to see how to put the hanger on before I did some bric a brac to it. One way it looked just like the skeleton of a pelvis. Well, we couldn't have that hanging in a professional office so we kept turning it until we found a non confrontational way to hang it.

The next step was to seal it. Now all the tree carvings we have, are NOT finished high gloss. If you look at trees, they aren't polished either. All I wanted to see was the various lines and marks and ruggedness of the piece. The next step was to hang it on a nail and look at it several times before putting something on it. But what? I am not stumped, just don't want to take away from the piece although clients looking at it aren't going to be willing to love it as it hangs. WHY? Because people are like that. One person already said I should paint a fisherman catching a bass on it. We like to 'finish' things. What is more finale than a tree root? Like it is totally finished, don't you think?

I have a precious little elf I got as a gift from my son. He sits nicely in the drift wood except he crashed once and his nose broke off. The chatter of that would be asking Tom if he KNEW that nose was broken.

It is time to look about the house and see what will work. What do we have that is old and rusty? Besides us.

e

AND HE WAS HER ADORED ONE

Old Trunks is keeping the names private, yet others have written about their adored one. Reading their notes is painful because you see yourself in their thoughts.

Imagine, if you will, writing to someone for four years, only to learn the relationship fell apart somewhere. There was no I WILL WAIT FOR YOU, just a constant stream of letters, Yes, letters written and stamped and sent.

Who knows why relationships fall apart. A friend wrote this morning to say her grand daughter married, husband went to the service, and she found someone else. I think the sad thing is the mistrust she exhibited is with HER for the rest of her life.

Anyway, the whole thing about males circling the corral is interesting. All of us have had sugar lumps in our past. Hug gable Gents. People we should be allowed to hug and hold like the famous kiss picture after WWII was over, regardless of where we are not.

There should be a old time sake rule.

a sudden, intuitive perception of or insight into the reality or essential meaning of something, usually initiated by some simple, homely, or commonplace occurrence or experience. a literary work or section of a work presenting, usually symbolically, such a moment of revelation and insight. What is that? Fred's Mobil and if you think I am talking in code, anyone reading this knows what I am talking about.

e

NO WORRIES, NO STRESS

And Debbie says, "Sometimes, ya know, I wish I was a little girl again.. No worries, stress, didn't have to do a thing but play."

I just don't know about this. I have a hard time imagining a child only playing and not learning hard lessons in their youth.

Don't we all have honey combs in our souls in which are stored information from our childhood which helps us cope with the stuff that happens to us as adults? Even if our parents did not give us answers OR if they did, we didn't understand how complex the answer was.

How can anyone say they have closed all the doors to (remember) the lessons we learned and call it a no stress childhood.


What about the kid in the neighborhood who fell twice one summer and broke both his collar bones. Is that stress free?

What about the bat in the cabin flying into someones hair? Bet she was just playing when she screamed.

Ever see a dog run over?

Had a pet die?

Not want to be somewhere your parent's insisted you had to go to?

Tried to figure out where to hide the liver at meal time because you hated it but parent's watched over you because it was "good for you"?

Wished you had more brothers and sisters?

Wished you had LESS brothers and sisters?

Had chores but didn't understand you were part of the co-op, therefore responsible for said co-op. Although you weren't told that, you were just told what to do.

Did your father butcher your pig that you worked for all summer. The one you wanted to sell. But no one told you it was the only meat they would have for winter?

No, Debbie, childhood is a learning ground of life rules.

e

'49 FORD

Yes, I am still writing about the adorable one.

I am thinking about that old Ford of his. And how, one summer day, a friend of mine and a friend of his, all went to the country to drink beer.

And how, on that rainy day, he didn't have any tail lights on his car and I had faulty brakes, and Ragdoll the Chevy ran into the back of that '49er in front of the salvage yard.

I am thinking about my friend hitting the windshield when I plowed into the back of his car and how his steering wheel was bent. I am thinking about how the insurance company settled immediately for $150. And how, after that, I had no car and would later loose my license for three months.

I am thinking about how my parents never liked anyone I brought home or adopted and how my friends covered for me so I could go out with the adorable one.

I think there was a song about that. If not, there should have been.

e

HANDSOME

Old Trunks has been haunted of late. Soozi sent me pictures taken at a reunion in our home town. The pictures included an adorable lanky stud I dated and adored in high school. I have had flashing images of him from the past the last waking hours.

Perhaps even you, dear reader, have wondered how and where old flames are now. In the Internet world, on sites like Facebook, who knows what one may find. It is safe looking on line and if you do find a picture, you can look and wonder and move on.

But when a great friend writes to tell you they saw him and he asked about you, well, it is a little closer to the center of the soul. I guess if I was asking, I would want to know if they are alive and well and approaching seventy that may be all one would really need to know. Why ask at all? Because, I think, we wish the best for everyone, well nearly everyone, we knew.

This happened to me before. My sweet Thomas is a blast from the past and in many ways a true connection that lasted almost 40 years before a reconnect. After Tom's family moved away, I didn't see or hear from him although he told me of late he wanted to come back and see me.

I have three amazing children, who have the genes of two parents that make them what they are. One can not go back and wonder what they would have been like with different parents. Anymore then one can wonder what would have happened it the adorable one with the '49 Ford would have been in my life longer. I was his 7-11 shift, his other girl friend was 11:15 - close.

Wondering.

Wouldn't you?

e

HOLLYHOCK DOLLS, REMEMBERED

A hA! Another doll maker has been found!

Soozi writes:

Arden and I would make hollyhock girls. It was fun to read!
We did a lot of entertaining ourselves didn't we!
Paper dolls...........played for hours! Made our own clothes!
Read and traded comic books...............Oh geez!!

WHAT ARE HOLLYHOCK DOLLS?

Old Trunks should have lead with how to make them! Maybe even, what are hollyhocks?

It is said seeds of this tall skinny flowering plant were found with ancient ruins.

It is known that before in door plumbing, hollyhocks were planted by the out house. That way when women needed to use the facilities, they didn't have to be told where it was, they would just look for the flowers!

There were a few growing along the east side of the house in Fargo in 1998. It reminded me of grandma and her flowers blooming around her garden. I suspect if we had harvested the seeds, we could have continued the crop. I am certain grandmother did, as she always gleaned seeds, putting them in her apron to sort later.

And so it was that while I visited them at the home, we would make dolls out of them. It wasn't anything elaborate. It was just a bloom for the body and a bud for the head, joined together with a part of a burned out match. Grandma had a way of peeling the outer layer off the bud to expose the color of the blossom. I always wanted white faces but sometimes that wasn't allowed. She picked what I could have although I could make suggestions.

The dolls wilted quickly, even if I thought floating them on the rain barrel would give them new life.

It was a grandma thing. A special memory of a grand lady.

Holly hock dolls, did you ever?

e

HOLLYHOCK DOLLS

The discussion was dolls made from hollyhocks. It started something in a friend from MI, which is worth sharing:



"Today it's an iPod, a DVD, a cell phone, a laptop, etc. etc. etc. Where did all the "pretend" go? I know....young ones are probably saying, "oh no...here with go with back when I was a kid!". lol But I didn't have dolls that talked, walked, etc. I used my imagination and made them walk & talk. I never gave my girls a doll that did anything. Their last dolls that they got when they were, I don't remember, 10 or 11 ??, were Chatty Cathy and Pretty Ballerina (I think those were the names) and they moved by themselves. No imagination. But that's the only ones.We entertained ourselves and did it quite well. I could have a ball with two tin cans. Stomp on them really hard with your foot and they would mold to your shoes and man! could you ever make the noise walking down the sidewalk! lolFind an old innertube (do they even make those anymore?), cut it up, get a couple of scrap pieces of wood and you had a gun that shot fat rubber bands.I hardly ever played in the house. Maybe I sat on the porch and played "jacks". But everything was outside and everyone was active. Today....sitting in front of the computer. But, hey...I should talk...what the heck am I doing now? lol lol lolThanks E for bringing back some wonderful memories! ♥"

TIME FLIES

Where does it go? Why does summer fly by and winter drag?

I suppose it has to do with the pace of the season. I asked myself recently how could it be mid August already when I just felt like mid May had passed.

Perhaps it is all about balance. BALANCE? IN NORTH DAKOTA? Good grief. Yet, isn't it the same to people living in, say, Phoenix? They have the long heat; we have the long cold.

It is time to brain storm for a new and different project. Everything I am doing is maintenance.

Thinking, thinking....

e

THE POSE

When my grand parents had their wedding picture taken, it was a stiff and no grinning. Most likely because they either had terrible teeth OR the camera lens was very slow and if they moved from that statue state the picture would be blurry.

My parents had a grin.

With technology of the day, lots of pictures are posted. They are not stiff nor grinning. Many of the pictures have all sorts of tongues sticking out, fingers pointing to themselves, crossed eyes, and of course lots of drunken pictures.

Perhaps pre-digital, we didn't use film for those poses. Perhaps we liked pictures with a message. Perhaps we thought. In thinking about the 2,500 or so pictures of my own children, I don't think there is one tongues sticking out, fingers pointing to themselves, crossed eyes, and of course lots of drunken pictures although there may be a couple of 'rabbit ears' photos.

When these early twenty people have children and they ask, "What is this about Mommy"? Mother will have to say of her cross eyed, tongue out, finger pictures, oh, Mommy was really drunk on all of these pictures and when you grow up, you can do the same.

e

THE HIGH AND THE MIGHTY

By now you have learned I have an opinion about weaselly men, saying things that hurt people, Christmas letters from day to day people, and folks who expect one's natural gifts to be taught in a lesson plan and expect it to become their own. That is just the beginning.

A friend told me a couple of months ago that his wife had brain and lung cancer. She is a pure sort of person with no vices. This is a heavy diagnosis and one no one should be harnessed to such a dreadful load. I hope for her even though, my sweet Thomas' first wife deceased from it. I think I am counter balancing his opinion of her prognosis. Perhaps. Maybe it is just plain old hope without pretending to be some sort of a prayer warrior.

Which brings me to my opinion of the day. People of my age generally went to confirmation and became some member of some business of church. Many of us have taught Sunday School, Bible School, worked in the nursery, and became greeters because we were friendly and responsible. Many of the obits state baptized and confirmed in the Lutheran faith--fill in your own church application. That all took place 50+ years ago.

Although we have all learned to sit, to walk, and to stand for our faith or a higher power, not everyone on the planet was B&C in the Lutheran faith, many are not Christian faith, there are others. Where I grew up, there were Catholics and all others, others being the majority. Our minister wanted promises out of thirteen year olds never to marry a Catholic. He said if we couldn't promise, he would not confirm us.

I have a friend who, as she began her SIT in Christian faith, really turned me off for some time. She expected God to lead her by the hand everywhere. There are fundamental lessons we should all be able to do in the name of one's religion that God trusts us to do on our own.

Recently, someone I know was asking for prayers regarding herself, yet what she was serving for dinner on a nightly basis was fried foods and processed foods. It doesn't take a mathematically moron to figure out what she really needed to do, if she really wanted to do something about it, was to look inward instead of expecting others to carry her when she wouldn't do it herself.

I am not against pray or religion. I am opinion ed about people asking for something they need to adjust within themselves. And don't give me any crap about high and mighty and then complaining about 'stuff' that really isn't anything but crap.

e

YET OTHER....OPINION

Granted, our house does look more like a gift shop than a home but it is comfortable to us. We like the relics around us. They are finds and gifts we have bought or have been given. No matter that my cousin was concerned about what we would do with all of it when we had to go to a rest home or that the shelves of bric brac may fall on her as she slumbered. And that was her concern and opinion.

Old Trunks touches on a lot of ideas in depths of fierce to luke warm. Some stick, like spaghetti, when done, stick to the wall. Others are passing fancies as if they were red and greed plaid pants. Some ideas and ideals are fueled by natural tendencies.

One of them is a sense of balance for arranging. I didn't give it much thought, it just seemed I could wiggle my fingers and it magically all fell into place. Tom was the first to point it out. Why? Because he can't do it, he can have an opinion after it is done but he can't do it free form. In other words, he is not a finger wiggler. And that is okay, we blend and I don't get out of shape when he wants it different.

So when someone wants you to teach them 1,2,3 of finger wiggling because they can't, good luck. It is not an easy task because they can not see the finished product you have in your head.

This all leads, of course, to THEIR opinion of what you can do. WHY? Because that is not one of their gifts.

Do you understand what I am saying?

e

ANOTHER OPINION

Old Trunks called him a 'weaselly little man with a scrawny neck'. I didn't even know him but he reminded me of someone. Is that fair? No. Will I change my mind? Probably not.

I finished the vacation summary and handed it to my sweet Thomas. He doesn't and never has, remember the same details that I do, just as I don't remember the same information he do. So I summarize. Once read, he suggested we send it to the scrawny neck guy as a Christmas letter as he chuckled.

Now, Tom sees him daily and gets a play by play of his life, wife, and other details. Yet, at Christmas, we can always count on a 6 font two page Christmas letter. He whines because the family, all grown, take up all their time. That isn't in the letter, by the way.

Don't give me any crap about liking him once I get to know him.

And that is my opinion!

DID YOU READ THAT?

You couldn't pay Old Trunks to read as if I was spell bound. I will truly admire people who devour books for pleasure. There are certainly a lot of them out there. I wonder if reading, a gift in itself, jumps generations; like white collar and blue collar. Well, sort of.

My parents read. Mostly for pleasure, although the newspaper was combed daily. I never saw Greg pick up a book. Give me five books on how to plant a tulip, (although there is only one way), and I will be happy.

The Internet has been a wonderful tool in many ways. It gives way to "I WONDER". The most recent search here as been railroad turnstile bridges. I started; Tom finished. Before that, caterpillars which were really larvae. All done on the Internet, although we gave the library a chance and the books to reference had not been checked out since 1990.

Before home computers, the reference library was THEE source for anything one wanted to know. Just call!

I do believe a little book learning each day is necessary, whether it be hard copy, a Kindle, or catching something on the Internet.

After all, much of it is opinions and isn't how all this started?

e

WHAT'S YOUR OPINION ABOUT BEING OPINIONATED?

Old Trunks wonders how people can be so opinionated about others. Do we have some sort of a check and balance list within ourselves based on our up bringing to which personal views have been added?

I am not pointed a finger at anyone. Because I am a crusty old broad and have my own concept of what is right, wrong, and in between. I am also aware that I know one finger points away while four point towards me.

What makes us be leery of others? What is it that tells us to watch out. Do we know how we decide who we trust and who we can not trust? Is it gut? Is it a life like spread sheet? I don't know the answer, I am asking you.

When we are working outside the home, do we develop a professional window or wall that keeps the opinions of others at bay? Or is that bay window? :)

Recently someone I truly admire felt attacked by former work mates. She has been away from the job for two years, yet, she is still fodder for wagging tongues. Personally, I think it is because she was a great employee to her close work mates as well as the people she cared for as a CNA. Yet, as a stay at home mom, she may have lost her window. It doesn't matter if it was just idle chatter at the water cooler, what does matter is she was affected by it.

Because opinions will not go away and we find ourselves sensitive to what is said and done, maybe, we should think twice and speak once.

And that is my opinion.

e