One Step Forward and Two Steps Back

Well friends, my days of multi-tasking are over. Yep! No more breaking my neck to get out the door. No more scampering down the steps to stop the dryer buzzer. No more burning the midnight oil to beat the income tax deadline (or any kind of deadline). You name it... NO MORE!

You see, lately I've been getting these subtle, little messages - messages from the big guy, and heaven forbid, they've started repeating themselves over and over again. Well, maybe I need to stop and listen, cuz you know what happens when you don't listen to the man upstairs!? They get LOUDER and LOUDER!!!

Louder? Oh yeah! Lately it seems like God's been on his megaphone yelling, "SLOW THE H___ DOWN!"

Me? Is he talking to me? What's wrong with trying to do as much as you can with any of the littlest time available? Run here! Run There! I've got to, because you know what they say, "Use it or lose it!"

I'll admit, even with this urgency, I'm still never one to be on-time. And, you'll never see me taking an extra five minutes to grab my breath before heading out the door. Nope! I'm not one to waste time - or be on time. It's just not me. In my opinion, why be early, when that extra time can be used to throw another load in the washer, make my bed, or stack a few more dirty dishes in the dishwasher? Time is just too precious to waste it on being early!

Not only that, I'm also not one to pay attention to detail. For example - when dressing, I don't believe in taking time to do "once-overs". I rely on instinct when it comes to buttons being buttoned, zippers being zipped, and shoes being being tied. Put it this way - I have no time to primp!

So, like I said, for some reason lately God's been worried about me, and his megaphone is loud and clear. His messsage is - "ENOUGH is ENOUGH! SLOW THE H___ down, before you break something, forget something, miss an important ingrediant, or heaven forbid - do something embarrassing!

Okay! Okay! I hear ya! And yesterday was the day it all came to a head.

Friday is coffee day with the girls at the local coffee shop. So I got up bright and early, showered, washed and dried my hair, got dressed, picked up the house, made my bed, threw a load in the washer, swept the floor, opened the curtains, and put on my shoes - right before I went out the door. Whew! Time for a cup of Joe.

Then, I spent the next hour and a half hour, sippin' and sassin' - smilin' and laughin'- you know, solving all the world's problems. Coffee day is truly my weekly therapy! There's nothing like good friends and a cup of coffee!

So, I leave just in time to meet another friend for lunch. We chit and we chat over chicken mcnuggets and french fries. Yep! It's a glorious Friday!

Then- boom! My friend comments on my shoes. Gosh! They're cute! I look at my feet -OMG! I have two different shoes on! The megaphone goes off again. "SLOW THE H___ DOWN DIANE!"

Yep! It happened and it's not gonna happen again! Not only am I getting older, I'm getting dumber! I need to pay attention to detail!

SLOW THE H___ DOWN Diane! SLOW THE H____ DOWN! No more multi-tasking for me!

See ya next Friday!

Let it Blow! Let it Blow! Let it Blow!

Hey folks!  It's getting close!  Christmas is right around the corner, and once again-- I'M NOT READY!  What is it with this time of year?  Sometimes I feel like every time I take one step forward, I take two back!  Wowzers!  And it happens every year! The dreaded CRA!  Christmas Rush Anxiety!!! 

So, what's a better cure for the holiday jitters than getting together with a couple of gal pals and having a cup or two of holiday cheer?  In my opinion - nothing!  So, that's exactly what I did.

Arriving in Harlan, just a bit late (which is good for me!), I was pleasantly surprised when I found an open parking space in my old employer's parking lot, just across the street from MiCasa.  Yay!  And even more exciting was the fact that I ran into an old (but young) bank friend in the lot as she was leaving work.  Awesome!  A trifecta of friends in one night!  Such a gift, and it wasn't even wrapped!

So, do I even need to mention, that catching up with old friends was so very, very much more important than doing what I really need to do these days - i.e. PAYING ATTENTION to where I park?  Of course not!  You all know me! 

So, as you would guess, it was a glorious night.  Our visit resembled a scene from "It's a Wonderful Life", as we reminisced about the good old days.  Laughter was plenty, and spirits were more than sufficient.  I agree with George, " No man is a failure who has friends," and because of those friends, both George and I feel like the richest person in town!  Unlike Christmas shopping, friendship has no price tag!    

After we bid our goodbyes, I opened the front door, only to be met by Old Man Winter.  Holy smokes!  A blustery, gust of wind, briskly pushed me across the street into the bank parking lot.  Ho - ho- ho!  It's winter in Iowa!  Ba-humbug!   

And then- out of nowhere, my mind whirled as I suddenly got hit with a case of CRS - Can't Remember Stuff!  Oh, you're a mean one - CRS! The wind continued to howl, as Grinchy thoughts filled my confused head. Why does everyone drive a &^%# SUV these days?  Why is it so fricking dark out here?   Rudolph, where are you!  And, heaven forbid, some %^$&* stole my car!!

So, what's an old lady do?   Well, this old lady opened her purse and frantically searched for her car fob.  Unfortunately, just as I unzipped the zipper, out flew a paper receipt!  NO!!!  That receipt better not be ... 

Like Danny Kaye in White Christmas, I spent the next five minutes tap-dancing across the parking lot.  Desperately attempting to land a toe on the receipt, my mind continued to race.  I could only imagine what this looked like. If a cop was to go by - I knew for sure, I'd be spending the night in jail!  

Finally, I gave up on catching the receipt, and I turned my focus to locating my key fob.  (Have you seen my purse? Organizational nightmare!)   Once found, I blindly pushed every button, hoping for the panic alert!  No luck!  How could I hit every button except for the alert?

However, I did see a nearby SUV with an open hatchback.  I wondered what dummy would leave their hatchback open in this wind?  Oh!  Never mind!  That's my car!  

So- I finally headed for home, just as I saw a white receipt flying down the street.  I'll admit, I did think about stopping, but at this point - I just wanted to go home!!

Now for the rest of the story:  To the person who finds my paper receipt.  While you are soaking up the sun at your new home in Tahiti, could you please have the decency to at least write me a thank you for losing my powerball ticket!  Millions?  Billions?  Who knows?  

Oh well, I didn't want to win anyway!  My friends have already made me the richest person in town!

Merry Christmas!  

  

Let the Juice Run Thru!

Well folks, we're winding down on those last few lazy, hazy, crazy days of summer. And with it comes that last frantic push to squeeze in a few more special, summer moments. You know what I'm talking about - going to family picnics, catching fireflies, attending parades, watching those beautiful summer sunsets, and my all-time summer favorite - slurping on a piece of that good ol' summer rind!

Oh yeah- if you wanna make me happy, just give me a big ol' slice of watermelon! Or as a matter of fact, any of those summer fruits will do - strawberries, peaches, cantelope, etc. If you haven't enjoyed any of this lusciousness yet this summer, take my advice and run (don't walk) to your nearest farmers' market or local grocery store and buy some now, cuz the season is quickly coming to an end!

I'll admit. I've had more than my share of watermelon this season. In my opinion this summer's fruit has been "bon nourriture. In other words, "dog gone good!" And if the truth be known, I think I've eaten at least three whole watermelons by myself. (Shhh! Don't tell anyone!) Actually, I beginning to think I've eaten so much watermelon, that I'm starting to look like one! Alright - no comments!!

So tell me - you all have at least one childhood watermelon memory, don't ya? It was wonderful! Wasn't it? Oh, so good! And so good for ya!

I can still vividly remember all of us kids circling around the melon, as Mom stabbed that big, bad boy in the middle of our kitchen table. She used a huge, mammoth-sized butcher knife that was reserved for occassions such as this. I can still hear that "crack" as the melon split and out spilled an over-abundance of sweet, sweet juice. My mouth waters just thinking of it! Yum!

"Hey! Out with those melons!" Mom would shout. "Don't think you're gonna slurp and spit seeds all over my kitchen!" As I've always said my mom was one smart cookie!

And so we scattered. Thus - the beginning of our next summer's "surprise."

You see, some how it turned out that our watermelon-eating spot always ended up being in the same spot - on the cement steps, right outside our kitchen back door. Oh yeah! We'd slurp, we'd spit, and occassionally we would challenge each other to a seed spittin' contest. I wasn't a very good spitter, so seldom did I win, but oh how I wished I could spit like the boys!.

So, early the next summer, much to our surprise, we were welcomed by a cute little plant growing out of a crack in those back steps. He was a little guy, but it didn't take him long to grow, and grow, and grow. Eventually that plant was so big, he covered our entire back steps! No longer could we use our back door without disturbing our growing friend.

So, what could it be? I had no clue. My brothers had no clue. And Mom - she just wasn't telling.

Eventually, little oblong things started to grow on our plant. Gourds? Is it a gourd plant? Curiousity filled our minds, and the neighbor kids' too, as daily it seemed like the whole neighborhood gathered to watch the progression of our plant.

And then one day - just like that - the "cat" was out of the bag (or should I say, the "watermelon?") Yes! Those little "gourd" thingys became big, ol' plump WATERMELON! We were now watermelon farmers! Hallelujah!

That entire summer our family and the whole blessed neighboorhood devoured what I would say were the sweetest watermelons you ever tasted. And to think, it all came from that one little watermelon plant!

So goes the story of our watermelon summer. Needeless to say, our favorite song that summer went something like this:"  So...

"Plant a watermelon vine on my grave...

And let the juice...

(Slurp, slurp)

And let the juice...

(Slurp, slurp)

Run thru!!!!

My little brother Brett. Isn't he cute?..

Winning Isn't Everything

I don't know about you, but sometimes I learn the biggest life lessons from my grandchildren, and when that happens, I have to wonder, "Wow! Where were you 50 years ago?"

I'm sure it's no surprise. Your grandchildren are just like mine. They face new challenges every single day. Many of those challenges I could never imagine undertaking at their young, tender ages. Yet, other times, those challenges mirror the same exact encounters I faced oh so many years ago.

So just last week, one of my granddaughters tried something new. She entered the demanding, gut wrenching, competitive world of girls track. Yes, track! Remember that sport? The one where individual skills and talent mean everything? There's no blaming your performance on anyone else, because unless you're lucky enough to participate in a relay, your success totally relies on you!

So being new to the sport, my granddaughter was faced with so many unknowns. How far could she run? What should she run? Should she sprint the short distances, or sweat out the long ones? The answer was truly unclear as her school doesn't even have a track! Just like Grandma did back in her day, daily practices consisted of running the city streets. Oh dear! What else can a girl do? Maybe she should just concentrate on field events.

Well a decision had to be made, and when her coach texted to ask which events she desired, my granddaughter simply didn't know. And to make matters worse --- like a typical busy teenager --- she forgot to reply. Oh no! Big mistake! Huge! Let this be your first lesson honey! Coaches are not ordinary people. They like answers. Replies are mandatory! Be sure to answer your coach!

So the very next day is track meet day and my granddaughter receives her assignment. Wouldn't ya know, it's the MILE! OMG! That's one, two, three, FOUR times around the track. Yes, I said FOUR! Oh dear God! She only weighs 65 lbs!!

Surprisingly this assignment didn't deter my sweetie's enthusiasm. As she put on that cute, little (and I mean little!) track uniform, she looked so determined that given a cape, I'm sure she could have saved the world!

Unfortunately, Grandma wasn't quite so sure! My stomach was in knots. Of course, I wanted her to kick butt and win, win, win. However, I could remember the feeling I myself had had at the finishline. Having spent every last ounce of energy, a feather could have knocked me over! Not to mention the will power I so desparately had to dig up just to stop the spew of my noontime peanut butter sandwich! Track is work! I know of no one who will argue that fact!

So the mile run comes and goes, and soon I receive a phone call from my son informing me that I may need to give an "atta girl" talk to my granddaughter on her way home. My heart dropped. My head raced, thinking of ways to fix a broken heart.

Around 8:00 my phone rings. It's her ... and although the race did not go as we planned ... my heart exploded as my granddaughter described the happenings of her first track meet. It was pure elation!

"Oh Grandma! I had the best day!", she chattered away. "Track people are so social! I met so many new friends! One girl even gave me a pin for my uniform and told me I did a good job!" I couldn't get a word in. She was in pure bliss and was looking forward to her next track meet. My heart soared!

As I hung up the phone, it occurred to me. Unlike the competitions I have ran in track, life, and career, there's so much more to be learned from the race other than winning. Winning's not what it's all about.

Among so many other things, there's friendships to be formed, teamwork to be built, stories to be told, and memories to be made. Oh yes! It's so true. Winning isn't everything.

It's not even close!!





1975 Girl's Track Team - Friends Then and Now

Will it Ever End?

Will it ever end? Will it EVER end?

No, I'm not talking about the war in Ukraine, nor am I talking about the rising price of eggs. I'm talking about dreams-- explicitly dreams about my old job!!! Have you ever had such a dream?

Well, I do! It's been eight years since I retired and you'd think that chapter is over and closed. But heck no! Not me! In the last week alone, I've had at least four dreams where I'm back in my old banking days.

And ya know, actually I'd welcome those dreams if they made any sense. But believe me - they are quite bizarre! Here's just a few:

* I'm in the back end of a pickup truck, backed into a cornfield. All I've got is paper, pen, and an old fashioned adding machine with miles and mile of tape, blowing in the wind. People are lined up in every direction, in every type of vehicle imagineable - trucks, tractors, combines, etc. dropping off deposits. . Say what? What the heck can that mean?

* I'm inside a food truck parked on an Avoca side street. I'm working with Denise, a deceased friend and classmate. I'm working out of the driver's side window, and she is working out the right side window. We both are furiously taking in deposits and lining them up on the dashboard. We're working so hard, and we're sweating like crazy, but we can't keep up! (Picture Ethel and Lucy). The sad thing is, we don't even have time to eat! How can that be? In a food truck and can't eat? I always have time to eat!!!

* I'm working at the old Avoca State Bank. Everything is very confusing. New tickets, new people (and they're all corporate big wigs) , new procedures- I can't even cash in a bond for God's sake! But no worries - I get to leave at noon to go work at the Shelby County State Bank. Huh? Is that even legal?

* And this one ---- I'm opening a new IRA for a customer while I'm playing bingo at the Avoca Community Center!!! What? BINGO! Wonder what I ate before bed that night?

And then there's the scary ones. Yes, I've been robbed, (that's another story), and that experience seems to still haunt me. In my dreams, I've been robbed in the AHSTW school gym, in my car, at both the Avoca and the Harlan Banks, in the middle of a movie at the theater--- you name it--- I've been robbed there in my dreams!! But in one dream, I took a hammer and broke the culprit's fingers so he couldn't pick up the cash!!! That'll teach him!

So what does this all mean? Well, in an attempt to get this nonsense to stop, I googled it. And of course, google is always correct, right? Well here's some reasons why this is happening according to Mr. Google:

1) "You are subconsciously still trying to process the significant life change of leaving your career." Really? Even after 8 years? I know I'm a slow learner, but holy cow!

2) "You miss your old collegues." What? Those old goobers? Just kidding! I love those people!

3) "You're bored!" That could be true, but it's nothing that a few snicker bars and a couple of Dr. Peppers can't fix. Next!

4) "You left something unfinished!" That's it!!! Has anyone checked the lunchroom frig for my leftover tuna sandwich? Probably not! Sorry guys but that puppy's gotta go!!

So, what's a guy to do about it? Why can't I dream about Keith Urban, Alex Baldwin or even Jellyroll? Welp - here's what Mr. Google has to say to remedy the condition.:

1) "Find new activities." I did but exercise hurt, coloring gave me anxiety, and they kicked me out of the wine tasting club.

2) "Visit your old co-workers". Great idea!

3) "Reflect on your current life." There! That's the ticket!

So - past collegues - I'll be calling you! Don't space me off and get ready for some chatter reflecting on my new life! I've been told I need a therapist, and I know you're the best. (Besides - you're cheap!) Can't wait to see you!

But - until then - tell me - "Will it EVER end?"

Mom's Make Things Better

Well, here we are, the day before Thanksgiving, and once again we take time to stop and take notice, say a word of thanks, and then realize how truly blessed we are. This year is no different than the past. I've got a loving family that fills my heart, amazing friends who keep me on the straight and narrow, (except for one or two - you know who you are!) and last but not least, I've got good enough health to keep me going.

So, speaking of health, this past month, Jer and I had an unwelcomed visitor in our home. Let me emphasize - "unwelcomed". Yep, he invaded our home and stayed waaaaayyyy too long. His name was "Pulmonary Edema" - i.e. "THE FLU!" and we were never so glad to see him leave. It was awful! You know - fatigue, fever, cough --- oh my --- the cough! I thought I was gonna cough up a lung!

Anyway, those long three weeks got me thinking about the good ol' days when Mom was our ever-loving, tender-caring nurse. Remember when mom tightly tucked you into bed, stuck a thermometer in your mouth, and placed a damp washcloth on your forehead? Those were the days! It didn't matter how many siblings you had, when you were sick, you were her only focus of attention. Today, I smile when I think about it! Oh yes - that special treatment! And her concoctions, rituals, and remedies (there were so many!) Wow! Sometimes I thought they were gonna kill me! But you know what? They worked! I'm sure your mom had her remedies too. Anyone willing to share?

Well, let me start first with the old mainstay - the hot toddy. If you haven't had one, you're missing out! The hot todddy was my dad's favorite medicinal remedy. He'd whip up a spiced drink of hot whiskey, water, honey, and lemon, and then carefully hand us that hot concoction (be careful if it's in a glass glass), and then make darn sure we drank every last drop. Let me tell you, if you dared stop and take a breath between sips, he'd be right there like a drill sargeant, instructing you to - "drink it up! Drink it all up!!" So I did. Thinking about it now, I honestly can't say if it really worked or not. But let me tell ya, I sure slept well!

And then there was my mom's favorite, the old "mustard plaster". Now you younger folks have probably never heard of this one, but I can tell you this, when mom mentioned "mustard plaster", us kids would run and hide! The smell, combined with the accompanying burn, made for an unpleasant experience. First she would concoct a smelly paste consisting of mustard powder, flour, and water - and then she'd spread it onto a left-over piece of fabric. Then that piece of fabric was placed directly onto our chest. Buuurrrrrnnnnn! No longer than 15 minutes or you might end up with a hole burnt right through ya! Oh my goodness! Sixty years later, the memory still haunts me! And can you believe that if you want to, you can still pick up one of these kits today at a local health store? No thank you!

One quick last one - then I'll quit, but remember the old "Vick's Vapor Rub" tent? All it took was one "whoop" coming from the upstairs and mom would be gathering her supplies and making the yell upstairs. "Diane - get down here!"

Immediately, I ran downstairs in my sloppy pajamas, wondering what ritual was next. At the bottom of the stairs, my mom greeted me, looking like the newest member of the Klu Klux Klan! Can you imagine? Tenting a white sheet over her head, she encouraged me to get in the tent with her. There we hovered over the stove, inhaling the vapors of Vicks Vapor Rub melting in a pot of hot water. Thinking about it now, I'm sure we looked and sounded like a couple of yogis. Breathe in. Breathe out. Soon our respiratory problems would disappear, and just like that, she was on to the next. "Bruce!" Funny how she could recognize us, even by our coughs!

So anyway, last month as I lie there, barely covered up, with my box of kleenex, and $150 worth of prescriptions, my mind started to think of mom, and how possibly those weird homemade remedies could be right.

Mom - maybe you were onto something. Your tender care and strange rituals could always reclaim our health. But then again - didn't moms always make everything better?

I sure miss those days!

Our New Arrival

She's here! She's finally here! So today, the Stamp family is pleased to announce her long awaited arrival. And oh my gosh - the excitement! I can hardly contain myself! We've waited for so very, very long! Honestly, for like the last six weeks, not one single day has passed without me asking the same old, same old. "Do you think today will be the day?"

Well, today is the day and both Jer and I are tickled pink! She's been so wanted, so needed, and so l---o----n----g overdue. However; we must admit, now that she's here, she was well worth the wait!

"So what took so long?" you may ask?? Well, of course, there's been a myriad of excuses, such as:
*** There must have been a miscalculation!
*** Toxins! It has to be the toxins!! Could it be AI?
*** The holiday weekend messed things up! (Say what? What does a holiday weekend have to do with it?)
*** And so on and so on!

So, believe it or not, Jer and I were there for the actual delivery, and praise the Lord, it couldn't have went smoother - no drops, no foul language, no mishaps - everything went as planned - except, of course for the actual delivery date!

So now our family is finally complete, long may she live!

And without further ado --- please let me introduce ---- our new bundle of joy---- and as cousin Eddie would say ......


"Ain't she a beaut?"

Lesson learned: If you need to order ANYTHING, dont expect it anytime soon!