And Baby Makes Three!

It’s true.  I’m well on my way to becoming The Crazy Cat Lady.  And that’s just fine.  I seem to do better with the feline species.  I’ve always loved kitties, and except for a few very short chunks of time, my household has always included my four-legged kitty friends.  When we were kids, my brother and I would carefully consider the names with each new litter of kittens.  We quickly grew tired of the common names like Kitty and Fluffy, and branched out into TV Land for some of our theme-related names.  Example – one litter was Gilligan, Skipper, Professor, Ginger, etc., while another was Wally, Beaver, Eddie, Lumpy, (with no regard to gender) or another - Spanky, Alfalfa, Buckwheat, Darla.  You get the idea.  It’s hard to imagine life without purrs and meows… oh, and cat hair on the furniture.  I saw a little plaque one time that said “No outfit is complete without a little cat hair.”  I suppose it’s time to hang one of those in my house. Because soon the cat hair will overtake the dust bunnies, and even they will begin to scurry for cover.  I have adopted two new kittens!!  Cooper is the sweetest, affectionate, most lovable kitty.  And while I do adore that sweetness, in order for us to eat and live indoors, I must sit at my desk and work.  As you may have seen in my many Facebook pictures, Coop loves to sit on my desk (on my keyboard, on my printer, underneath the little shelf that holds my monitor….).  He thinks he is helping, and he just wants to be near me.  Then when I’m unable to sit and hold him all day, he wants to bat at my fingers as I type, or chew on the multitude of cords underneath my desk.  I decided a while back that he needed a playmate.  I suppose it would have been better if I had adopted his sister back when I got him, but at the time, I was being selfish – looking only for a new critter to love, who would love me back, never leave me, and be loyal to me.  It was a tall order, but he met the challenge, and was a true comfort to me during a really rough patch.  At any rate, I only adopted him, and since then, it has been just the two of us.  Oh, except when the kids are here.  They adore Cooper, and he is such a wonderful, big ol’ loveable fella that he will allow them to haul him around like a ragdoll.  His foster mommy had children at home, so he became accustomed to having kids around from the beginning. 

Most all of my kitties have been strays, or taken from the litters of friends.  A few of them, though, were kittens with “papers”, (Himalayan or Persian), purchased from licensed breeders.  They were beautiful kitties, and I loved them very much – but no more so than my other kitties.  Years ago, Whitney and I adopted a flame-point kitty (like Cooper) from the Athens Humane Society, which was my first official rescue.  It felt really good knowing I had given a kitty a home that might otherwise have met his Kitty Maker through the stab of a needle.  That’s why they call it Rescue.  Cooper was my second Rescue Kitty.  I got him from Jackson County Humane Society.  The people over there were wonderful!  We communicated several times before the pickup date, and they were very helpful both before, and after the adoption.  The day I picked him up, I was a train wreck.  So very excited to get him, still so very shaken at the turn of events my life had just taken.  As soon as I laid eyes on him as I was walking across the parking lot, my eyes welled up with tears, and when the kind foster mommy put him in my arms, I just started weeping.  (They probably wanted to reconsider adopting him out to this crazy, crying woman…)  But then I told her in 10 words or less, what I was going through, and she got tears in her eyes and hugged me tightly, and said… “Then, you need Cooper as much as he needs you.”  It was truly a match made in heaven, and he has been the best companion!!

Fast-forward to now.  I’ve been keeping my eyes open for a calico kitten.  I’ve had a couple of calico kitties in the past, and there’s just something about that crazy color pattern that I find adorable.  I love all kitties, and would bring them all home if I could.  I’ve seen some cute ones these past couple of months since I’ve been looking, and considered one or two of them, but kept holding out in the hopes of finding a calico. I had found several beautiful adult calico girls, but I felt Cooper would do better with a kitten, than to bring another adult cat into his domain, of which he is the undisputed king. I had almost given up hope, and in fact, had scheduled a visit to the Madison-Oglethorpe Animal Shelter to check out two cuties at their facility.  

Then, one afternoon as I was about the walk away from the computer, I saw where AHS had just that very moment posted pictures of two new litters of kittens they were getting ready to release.  One litter was polydactyl kitties (extra toe – Hemingway kitties!).  I clicked to get a better view, and there… buried underneath the tangle of paws and tails, I saw the tiny little head of a calico kitty!!  Immediately I called the shelter, and they agreed to put a “hold” on her until I could come in the following afternoon to meet her.  (Good thing, because they have had many calls about her since then!)  When I went to meet her the following day, it was totally love at first sight.  We bonded immediately – and then one of her siblings kept peeking at me, and once I held him, it was a done deal.  They don’t release the kitties until after their spay/neuter, and they can’t do that until they weigh 2 lb.  On that day, Scout weighed 1.88, but Boo Radley only weighed 1.38.  Scout’s surgery was scheduled for Tuesday May 28th, and I picked her up the following day.  By then, Boo Radley had gained up to 1.76, so we are anticipating his surgery and homecoming this next week.  

Scout

Boo Radley

Since her arrival at The 409, Scout has been hanging out in the master bath.   She has done really well.  I was afraid she would cry all night, missing her siblings.  I put the shirt into the kitty bed that I had worn that day, to give her a familiar scent.  Before I left her for the night, she was snuggled in the kitty bed, had her tail wrapped around to her face, and was suckling on the tip of her tail, ‘making biscuits’ on the fleecy inside wall of the kitty bed.  Of course, I didn’t have my phone to video the insane cuteness, but trust me… it was adorable.  She did very well during the night, no crying at all.  Next morning, she had transitioned back into the carrier for snoozing.  I guess that felt a little safer, with the walls and such.  I had put a box with a towel inside it in the bathroom, in case she wanted to hide from the world.  The carrier seemed a better choice, though, as it has mesh sides, so she could still see out, yet feel somewhat more protected from the unknown dangers of my bathroom.  I will have to put the carrier away, though, because she’s using it as a playscape.  It’s probably good to have her scent inside, and maybe it will be a comfort to Boo Radley during his separation from the rest of the litter, and the scary car ride to The 409.  He should be very happy to be reunited with his sister! 

For a few minutes last night, I brought Scout into the living room so Cooper could see her.  He’s been sniffing my clothes and hands for the past few days, and he has heard her in the bathroom, so he knew something was about to go down.  They were pretty funny.  A couple of non-threatening hisses, but no growling or aggressive-type behavior, which was a great relief to me.  I think Cooper was more nervous than Scout!  He has been without kitty company for so long that seeing another feline was a bit new for him.  They sniffed each other, and crouched carefully a foot or so away from each other and played the staring game.  When one would move, the other would startle.  Too funny.  Then it was back to the bathroom for Scout, and bedtime for Cooper and I. Though I was afraid it would be a long night of howling at each other behind the closed door, Cooper wasn't interested.  He was probably just glad to have his mommy back all to himself, and it seemed he snuggled a little extra close to me on the bed.

This morning, Cooper and I went into the bathroom together to spend some time with her.  They were so cute! (Video below) They are still a bit wary of each other, but it seems that very soon they will be best of friends.  I’m so happy!  I’m not quite ready for Scout to have total run of the house, so I’m still keeping her confined, I left the door open into the bedroom to give her more room to roam, and time to acquaint herself with a little more of the house.  She’s still a little skittish, and there are too many places for a tiny kitten to hide throughout the house, so we’ll take it slow in that regard.

I'd also like to do a commercial for the Athens Humane Society. These people are amazing!!  Everyone is so kind and helpful. They do such wonderful work with the kitties.  Their attention to detail is very impressive, and the facility is immaculately clean.  They are very careful with the adoption process, and make every effort to make sure that their animals go to good homes.  I would totally recommend anyone considering adoption to check them out.  Scout and Boo Radley are coming from the Mars Hill shelter, which is in the same building with the medical clinic.  There is also a cat shelter out near the Athens Airport that also houses cats and kittens available for adoption.  I don't anticipate bringing any more kitties to The 409 in the near future, but if/when the time comes, I will definitely go the Rescue route again.  No more spending money to buy a registered cat, when that same amount of money could save the lives of many kitties!!  

So… The Crazy Cat Lady life begins anew.  And a warning to anyone who would visit:  Be sure to bring your lint-roller with you, because if you sit on my furniture, you’ll get up with cat hair.  >^..^< 

Here's a video of Cooper and Scout “playing” this morning.  Sorry about the messy bathroom.  The video was shot before chores.

Cooper and Scout 06-01-2013

Some Gave All - My Confederate Soldier

Twenty-five years or so ago, my mom presented me with a family heirloom.  Though we’re not exactly sure when it was built, we believe it was crafted in the early 1700s, or perhaps maybe even a little earlier.  It’s a beautiful blanket chest with two drawers along the bottom.  Constructed with the dovetail technique, it is complete with a little “secret compartment” inside.  Legend has it that early on the tradition was begun that the chest would be passed along to the youngest daughter of each generation.  As my good fortune would have it, I have fallen into that lineage.  When my grandmother received it, it was in a sad state of disrepair, and spent many years in storage.  My mom wasn’t that interested in restoring it for herself, but because I was fascinated with it from a young age, she surprised me, and had it restored for me.  The tradition is safe for two more generations following me, as I have a daughter, and she also has a daughter.  I hope that when I’m gone, they will both love the chest (and its heritage) as much as me. 

When my grandmother inherited the chest, inside the “secret compartment” were found some brittle hand-written letters, a Bible, and some kind of medical booklet.  The letters are fascinating.  They were written using the quill-and-ink method, and the characters were written in a very fancy font.  The spelling, grammar, and punctuation were atrocious (leave it to the Grammar Nazi to notice that), but the document was pleasing to the eye, what with the fancy font.  Tattered and worn, some of the words were illegible, and the paper so fragile that we only took them out on one or two occasions that I remember.

The letters were written by an ancestor, a confederate soldier in the Civil War – the son of the woman who was, at that time, in possession of the blanket chest. She kept them all tucked safely inside the secret compartment, and I like to imagine she would read them each day, perhaps holding them close to her heart, burying her face into the folds, washing the ink with her tears.  There is no love and devotion like that of a mother, and this we know - the mother of a soldier in battle fights her own war with fear and dread every second of every day until her child is safely home.  The letters told about “hiding from the damn Yankees” in a ditch, and about drinking bootleg whiskey smuggled in by another soldier.  He spoke of his love for her, his siblings, and his home, and longed for the day that the war would be over, and he would be reunited with them.

One day the dreaded news arrived that he had been wounded in battle.  His mother, weak and frail from having delivered a baby just a few weeks earlier, was determined to go to him.  When she found the name of the hospital where he was being treated, she persuaded someone to drive her in a wagon to be by his side.  (I always think of the scene in Gone With the Wind of Mellie and baby Beau in the wagon fleeing Atlanta as it burned.)  Their journey lasted for days, but finally they reached the hospital.  Only to learn that her son had died a day or two before. How tragic a loss! 

Our family has been very fortunate with regard to KIA losses during my lifetime, which must also include my dad’s stent during the Korean War.  Though obviously before my lifetime, I wouldn't even be here without his return from duty.  There have been many conflicts and battles since then, and countless soldiers have died in distant lands, far from the arms of their loved ones... but thankfully my family has been spared from death or injury.  That is somewhat miraculous, considering the roll call of soldiers among us.  My dad Luther Carroll, my brother Michael, Uncle Bill, Uncle Billy P, Uncle Gene, Uncle Billy W, and Uncle Ricky.  So very thankful for their service and their safety!!

There are so many others, though, who gave the ultimate sacrifice for our freedom – standing tall on the Lexington Green in Massachusetts, shivering in the snow on a cold German country road, on a ship in Pearl Harbor, landing on the beach at Normandy, crawling through a rice paddy in Viet Nam, or in the hot desert sands of the middle east.

This is the only story of my family that I know for sure, though, and today I’d like to honor the memory and the life of that young soldier, my ancestor, hardly more than a boy himself, who hid from the Yankees and drank bootleg whiskey.  His blood stained the dirt of a country divided, and he gave his all. 

We honor those living today who have served, and the ones who served who have passed. 

Most importantly, we remember the fallen.  Those who are buried in a foreign grave, or who returned home in a flag-draped box, or whose bones lie unmarked and forgotten, here on our own soil.

Memorial Day 2013.  Hopefully, for a while yet, Freedom Will Ring throughout the land.  But it comes at a very high cost.  Thank You, God, for those willing to pay the cost.  As we enjoy a holiday filled with parties and barbecues, may we never, EVER forget the lives lost, the families ripped apart, all in the name of purchasing and securing our Freedom. 

Wildcats!

SES Alma Mater

The bells of our dear school

Ring out far and wide

To call to her loved ones 

As we leave her side

When out in the world 

As our fortunes we seek

We know her pride in us

Will never grow weak.

The bells of our dear school

Ah, hear they are calling

The old ones the young ones

Who've come from her halls

And so my dear school mates

When school days have past

The school bells will ring out, ring out

For you and me!

Statham Elementary School.  Formerly Statham High School.  The roots of these halls run deep in our little town.  It was built in 1906, with its first graduating class in 1909.  All three graduates were female.  In 1940, the gymnasium construction project was begun, but was halted because of WWII.  The gym was completed in 1942.  In the school year 1956-57, the outlying county schools consolidated with the high school in Winder, resulting in one high school for the county, and six elementary schools scattered throughout the county, grades 1 through 8.  My mom graduated in 1957, which meant that she was in the first county-wide graduating class of 57.  Kinda sad - to be pulled away from the school she knew all her life, and to which she felt a great loyalty, for the last year.  At any rate, for the next 15 years, there were five county elementary schools, 1st through 8th grade. (The Winder schools were different, and I'm not sure how they were structured.)  Yours truly walked the halls of SES from the 64-65 school year until the 71-72 school year.  We were the last to graduate 8th grade.

1972.  Last Graduating 8th grade Class from SES
Click on photo to enlarge, and see how many you can identify!

Beginning the 72-73 year, the county consolidated 6th, 7th, and 8th  grades into middle school.  There were advantages to doing it that way, but I truly wouldn't trade my eight years at SES for anything.  I don't remember an awful lot about my earlier years in school, but I do remember 6th, 7th, and 8th grades, and can honestly say those were probably the best years of my childhood.  There was a cohesiveness among my classmates - these were the same kids we played with outside of school, went to church with, and our parents were all friends or acquaintances.  We were a less mobile society back in those days, and many of us only "went to town" on Saturdays for groceries, and stayed pretty close to home the rest of the time.  I'm sure there are a lot of things we missed by not going to middle school (such as the band program, since we didn't have a band instructor in the outlying schools).  But I wouldn't trade it for the experience of growing up with my friends for anything.  Once we hit high school, though we all remained friends, there were hundreds of other kids to meet, and new friends to make.  Those of us who went 1st through 8th grade remain more closely knit, even after all these years, than the kids who leave after 5th grade.

My mom attended SES, as did I, as did Whitney, and now my grandchildren can be found learning and playing within her walls.  What a wonderful privilege!  Generation Four.  I know for sure there are other students who share the same "pedigree", as no matter how wonderful the world outside our zip code may be, there are those of us who love our little town, and choose to stay.  Some of my mom's teachers were still around to teach me, and some of my teachers were still around to teach Whitney. Some of Whitney's teachers are still at SES, so perhaps the pattern will be repeated.  How I love my small-town life!!!

This past Thursday was the last day of school for Barrow County.  It was a busy week with activities, award ceremonies, field trips, and last-day-of-school festivities.  Thankfully, my job allows me a bit of flexibility with my schedule, and I was able to attend many of the events.  Wednesday, the kindergarten kids were recognized as promoted to first grade, and each class performed a song . Leyland received an award for Art, and received a nice certificate for completing kindergarten.  And of course, she was adorable through it all.  After the awards ceremony,  her class took a walking field trip to downtown Statham, two blocks away.  There they visited a few local businesses, the police department, city hall, and the post office, where they sent themselves some mail.  They met the mayor, and other city officials, and saw up close and personal the things they had been learning about their community.  After a picnic lunch at the Veteran's Memorial Park, they walked back to school.  What a great way to combine learning and fun!

There's this thing they do at SES for the graduating 5th graders.  I don't know when they started it.  I've never seen anything like it - it was amazing!  It's called The Catwalk.  All the "undergraduates" are allowed to leave their desks and line the hallways throughout the school.  At the appointed time, the fifth graders form a line and walk through the halls, to the sounds of the younger children clapping and cheering for them.  (Corey's class had little jingle-bell thingies - so precious.)  Because I didn't understand what "The Catwalk" was, when mom, dad, and I arrived at school, we went straight into the auditorium to get a good seat.  When I heard the announcement for the younger kids to line the hallways, I decided to go check it out.

Oh. My.  Talk about a lump in my throat.  Before I could leave my seat, the PA system starts playing "that graduation music".  You know the music of which I speak.  Hearing that music always makes me teary-eyed anyway, so I knew I was in trouble. Seeing all the children, parents, and grandparents lining the hallways waiting for the 5th graders, hearing that music... yeah, I was pretty much a mess.  Finally, from far away down the hall, you could hear the cheering begin, and like a wave, the cheers and clapping spread throughout the building... and soon the confetti-covered students began walking by.  Teachers were  wiping tears, a few students were sobbing, and many parents were too (and I'm such a softie - I can hardly see the screen to type this, as even the memory triggers a few more tears!)  I think I'll need a sedative by the time she graduates from high school....  After The Catwalk, they presented the 5th graders with awards and certificates, and then we went to their classrooms for photo ops.  Mary loves her teacher and classmates so much, she decided to hang out for the rest of the day, instead of going home early.

Mary (Second from left on the back row) and her class

Go Mary!!

Mary and Ms. Gamble

It wasn't quite time for Corey's party, but I happened to find his classroom in the cafeteria, so we got to have lunch together.  Soon it was time for his ice-cream party on the playground, and photos with his teachers, Miss Amanda and Miss Denae.  How we love these women!!  They are truly angels, and we will miss them so much.  More photos, more tears.  Each student came home with a Summer Fun Bucket with all kinds of fun things inside, along with a framed cap-and-gown photo of the kids.  Corey's is awesome!

Picture of the picture.  Too adorable for words!!

Waiting patiently for the ice cream bar

Ice Cream!!!

Miss Amanda.  Best Teacher Ever!  We love her so much!

Miss Denae!  She totally ROCKS!!

Leyland's class had a blow-out party as well!  After enjoying lots of goodies to eat, her teacher, Ms. Lefebvre, shared a DVD that she had compiled with music and photos throughout the year.  I happened to glance over at her several times while the DVD was playing, to find her quietly wiping her eyes, while smiling bravely.  Afterwards, she handed out a goodie bag to each child, with a copy of the DVD inside.  YAY!  On the outside of the bag was a poem, and knowing the kids wouldn't take the time to read it (yes! they can read!), she read it out loud.  While sobbing.  Oh dear.  I should have taken a hanky for the day.  

Ms. Lefebvre, Leyland, and Ms. Edwards.  Teacher Love!!

Leyland waiting patiently for the party to start.

Leyliebug and Gigi!

Leyliebug and LillyAnn.  BFFs!

Something happened to me that day.  It reminds me of the scene in 

The Grinch movie where the Grinch's heart grows and grows until it finally bursts the seams of the "x-ray box".  Not that my heart has ever been too small where my grandchildren are concerned - quite the contrary. It has always been full and overflowing with Greemaw love.  Which is why it surprised me so much that it seemed my heart grew and grew even more that day.  I suppose it was just the emotions of the day, the gratitude for being able to participate, and seeing with my own eyes how much other people love these babies too.  And what a blessing that the kids were excited and proud for Greemaw (and Gigi) to be there. The little ones wanted to be by my side the entire time, and would tell others "This is my Greemaw."  There was nowhere on earth I'd rather have been than once again inside the walls of my beloved school, holding their little hands, seeing my grandchildren excel in the education process, and knowing that the foundation of their future is on solid ground in the hands of Statham Elementary School. 

Internet Dating

If you watch television very much, you’ve likely seen the advertisements for online dating services.  E-Harmony, Match.Com, Zoosk, OurTime, Chemistry.Com, PlentyOfFish.com, to name a few.  It is an industry unto itself, with millions of members, generating millions of dollars. They’ve got the marketing techniques down pat, too.  Just watching the commercials could make a lonely person head straight for their computer and sign up to join.  The couples look so happy, and so perfectly suited for each other.  

Yeah, right.

Perhaps I shouldn’t be so cynical.  I’m sure there are success stories. In fact, I know there are, as one of my favorite people did indeed meet her Prince Charming through E-Harmony, and best I can tell, he really is a prince. In reality, though, the true Prince Charming-falls-in-love-with-the-Princess, Happily-Ever-After stories are probably more rare than common.  And I’ll bet there was a lot of toad-kissing going on before they found each other. And we all know how I feel about kissing toads. 

I will admit that in 19 years of being single, I did, on occasion, peruse the sites.  I even did the E-Harmony thing one time.  There was a local fella with whom I corresponded for a bit. Then we met, and he was so obviously put off with my appearance that he could hardly wait for the date to end.  Which puzzled me – the photograph I posted was recent, and was not photo-shopped to make me beautiful. We had disclosed our body types, so he was well aware that I was Not A Skinny Girl.  He knew my age.  He knew more about me than Whitney’s dad knew about me on our first (blind) date.  So it really ticked me off that he was expecting something different.  But, then, he was kinda weird his ownself.  He was a civilian, but had a job with the military, yet he was quite evasive regarding the particulars of his job description.  There was all this top-secret stuff that he supposedly was doing – in the vein of “if I tell you, I’ll hafta kill you” kind of way… so I wasn’t disappointed when the date ended, either. And – might I add that HE looked a lot older than HIS profile picture, and not nearly as buff.  So I was pretty dang offended that *he* didn’t like *me*. So, I’m personally not much on the internet dating thing.  If it works for you, then more power to you – and I celebrate your relationship.  I think I’ll just stick with my family, my  friends, and my cat.  That’s about all the drama I can take these days. 

Recently, though, I did have the occasion to check out a particular dating site.  I was a single girl for many years, and I still have lots of single girlfriends. Lots of single girlfriends who are currently into the internet dating scene, and who visit these sites often. Back in December, someone brought to my attention something they thought I might find amusing on one such site, so I took a look.  The only thing I found amusing was that nothing much in the world of internet dating had changed. Most of the bios are still as bogey hilarious and fake as they ever were. If you’ve never visited one of these sites, allow me to enlighten you as to how it all works.  The main idea is to put your best self forward, and present yourself in such a manner that all members of the opposite gender will find you irresistible  and therefore, want to date you, (or marry you, if finding a spouse is your goal.)  Here’s a sample of some of the most common things you’ll find.  Mr. or Ms. Prospective Mate will post this about himself or herself:

Username:  PrinceCharming1954

My likes:

~Spending quality time with that special someone

~Romantic walks on the beach

~Watching the sun set over the mountains

~Traveling with my mate

~Romantic dinners for two

~Sunday afternoon drives

~Romantic surprises

~Snuggling in front of the fireplace on a cold winter evening

What I’m Looking For In A Mate: 

~Adventuresome

~Physically fit

~Attractive

~No baggage

~Loves animals and children

~Free spirit

~Honest

~Financially independent

  

About Me: 

~Athletic

~Romantic

~Attractive

~Financially secure

~Love to work out

~Love to spoil my mate

~Devoted to family

~Hard worker

~Excellent cook

~Love animals and children

~Passionate

************

Okay. Sign me up.  Sounds perfect, huh?   Hahaha.... I totally get that you have to market yourself.  But, seriously.  Most everyone I know would put some of those items on their list. (Whether or not it's true seems to have no bearing, at this point in the game.)  

If I were in the market for a beau, (which I am not), and wanted to market myself on the internet, (which I do not), I think my bio would go a little something like this:

My User Name:  JustSayNoToToads  (Because it is a terrible idea to use your real name on a dating site)

My Likes: 

~Jesus

~My family

~Spending time with my friends – Girls only, or couples. You must love my friends and fit into our circle, or you’re out. Just as with my family, we’re a package deal.

~Watching my favorite TV shows without someone talking or bothering me

~My alone time, balanced with “spending quality time with that special someone”

~Shopping - Preferably alone

~Romantic walks on the beach

~Good food cooked on the grill

~Cats

~Watching the sun set over the mountains

~Laughter

~Going to church, but occasionally playing hooky

~Dancing (Chubby white girl can’t dance, but I like to do it anyway)

~Facebook

~Romantic dinners for two, and romantic surprises

~Doing crafty things

~Flower gardening (usually without much success)

~Blizzards  (Dairy Queen - Not snow)

~Foot rubs and back rubs  (Given to me – not by me – though I will occasionally return the favor)

~Swimming and floating about in the pool

~Reading

~Chick flicks

~Sometimes being worthless, lazy, and self-indulgent

My point:  Most people DO like those romantic things, (see, I have them on my list too!) so listing those things really tells you nothing about the person. Let’s hear about the real stuff.  What you’re REALLY like. Translated:  Let's cut the crap, and talk about what makes us tick.  This is Dating For Seniors. We're getting older by the minute, and don't have time to glean the chaff from the wheat here. Let's not bother investing time getting to know each other, if we can already determine ahead of time that there's things about each other that we're not gonna like - deal breakers, if you will - no matter how strong the physical attraction may be.  With that in mind, here’s some more info about me that you would want to know, before adding me to your Favorites list:

Random Things About Me: 

~I will love your family and your grandkids, but I will always love mine more. 

~I’m soon to be 55 years old.  I have earned every wrinkle and laugh line on my face, and will  not be visiting the Botox Doc.

~I have gray “highlights” in my hair.   Bling, if you will.

~My body type is always a work in progress.  For the most part, I have to claim “chubby” or “pleasantly plump”, or as the dating sites like to say “a few extra pounds”.  I’ve long ago faced the reality that I’ll never have buns of steel or six-pack abs, but I can touch my toes as good as (or better than) most girls my age and size, and I can tie my own shoes.  Well – unless my back is bothering me, which happens from time to time.

~I love sleeping in on Saturdays.  But when I get up in time, you’ll find me on the deck at DJ’s having coffee.    This is sacred girlfriend time.  Do Not Disturb.   

~I have stretch marks on my tummy.  Her name is Whitney.  (Okay, maybe one or two are named Oreo Blizzard)

~I am a grammar/punctuation/spelling Nazi.  I’m not always perfect, and I make typos and mistakes, but I DIE when someone else finds my errors before I do.  But your mistakes will bother me even more.  Besides, your errors are easier to spot than mine.  At the very least, please Learn the difference between plural and possessive, and use those apostrophes appropriately!!!  Unless, of course, you want to see my head explode. (And if you find errors in this post, please notify me immediately!!)

~My entertainment preferences are quite diverse. Downton Abby to Duck Dynasty.  Bach to Zeppelin and Floyd.  Mercy Me to Garth. Wizard of Oz to Braveheart.  You must be willing to embrace the entire spectrum, and enthusiastically agree to listen to, or watch, whatever I’m in the mood for at the moment. And you must tolerate my singing in the car.  Without laughing.

~I am very forgiving, and nonjudgmental.  But hurt me or someone I love, though I forgive, I don’t forget.  Do it again, and I will cut you.  

~I am sometimes impatient. Maybe *often* would be a better choice of words.

~Sometimes I procrastinate, but I don’t want to talk about that right now.

~I enjoy cooking, but have had so many kitchen disasters, that I allow people to think that I can’t cook. That  way, I only have to bring the paper products or chips to the parties and reunions.

~I hate math.  Seriously hate it.  Think: kryptonite.

~I love my power tools, and want to add to my small collection, so it would be a real plus if you have lots of tools, and are willing to teach me how to use them. I want to be a carpenter when I grow up. Only without the math.

~I am bossy. (But like Edith Ann used to say – “I am not bossy.  My ideas are just better.)

~The “control-freak” gene is alive and well within my DNA. 

~I like my towels and washcloths folded and stored a certain way in the linen closet. (OCD?)

~I like my steak cooked medium to medium-rare.  David can show you how to cook it. Please

  observe carefully and learn. Perfection is key when cooking a steak for me.

~I love discussing “politics and religion”.  Especially if your ideas differ from mine.

~I am financially independent.  Not wealthy.  I get by.  I just don’t need your money to pay my bills, but by the same token, I don’t have enough money to pay yours, so if you’re lookin’ for a sugar mama, you’re lookin’ in the wrong place. However, if you have plenty of money and would like to contribute to the paying of my bills, and would like to support me in my retirement, well, then, I’d be okay with that.  That, of course, would also cost you a wedding ring and a trip to the courthouse.  I ain’t lookin’ for no sugar daddy, neither.  (note - bad grammar intentional)

~I am funny.  If you don’t believe me, just fall down, or drop your milkshake or ham sandwich, and watch me laugh.  People who laugh are funny. Right? I have a warped sense of humor and often laugh at inappropriate times.  My daughter is the same way.  We absolutely cannot sit together in church. We’ve almost been kicked out of a funeral home (on two different occasions), and we barely escaped banishment from her prepared childbirth class.  Don’t even ask about the parent meeting before church youth camp one year.

~"Business Professional Attire" translates to me "My Nicest Pair Of Pajamas"
~The fact that the text doesn't align itself the way I want it to when viewing this blog post makes me seriously want to throttle the person who wrote the code... as I have spent a massive amount of time in aligning the text perfectly on the "compose post" page.

What I’m Looking For In A Mate:

~No lying. Period. Ever.

~Someone who will cook for me.

~Someone who can fix things and build things

~Someone who will listen to me gripe and complain when things don’t go my way, and agrees that I am   

  right, and everyone else is wrong. Including his ownself, whenever necessary.

~Someone to spoil me with romantic dinners and surprises.  Including planning and paying for said dinners and surprises.

~Someone to take me to the beach for romantic walks. 

~Someone who will help me take care of my yard and my house, except when I want to do it myself….  which is pretty much never.

~Someone who loves me enough to let me be me.  The good, the bad, and the ugly. Someone who doesn’t run away, or think less of me, and will forgive me when I have a meltdown or pitch a  hissy fit.  (Which goes without saying, was all his fault in the first place…)

~Someone who understands that, except for a short time, I’ve been alone for most of my adult life, and I smother easily. I need my space.  If you’re looking for me, and find the door is closed, unless you’re vomiting blood or the house is on fire, please go away.

~Someone who makes me laugh.

~Someone who wakes up every day thinking of ways to make me feel happy, secure, and loved.

~Someone who can program my cable box remote control.

~Someone who is thoughtful and brings me flowers, and makes me feel like I am the center of  his universe.

~Someone who understands that It’s All About Me.

So.  Any takers?  I really am a catch.  You’d be lucky to have me. Don’t doubt it for a minute.  ;-)

HAHAHA… probably wouldn’t get many takers with a bio like that.  Which is why so many of these relationships don’t work out.  Because the bios of most folks aren’t real.  There’s a cookie-cutter version of what we WISH we were like, and then there’s the reality of what we really are like.  I realize that even my “real” list is tainted by my own perception of myself.  I’m probably worse than the bad things I list, and probably not nearly as good as the good things I list.  But – my list is for sure more real than what you’ll find on an internet dating site. 

Internet Dating.  There are some happy endings.  But it’s not for everyone.  And it’s certainly not for me.  I think I’ll just sit on the couch, watch some uninterrupted TV, eat my Oreo Blizzard, and pet my sweet kitty.  And live happily ever after.  

Perfection!

Is there a "repeat" button for Mother Nature?  Like on a CD player?  You know - so you can listen to the same song over and over again?  If you know where I can find one for Mother Nature, please tell me before the night is over.  I'd like to press the "repeat" button for the next seven months.  Today was the most perfect weather day!  I've not heard the weather report, so I don't know what the high temperature was for today, but it doesn't matter what Glen Burns says.  I was outside IN the weather, and for me it was perfect.

It was the perfect day to sit outdoors, read a book, or take a nap - although I did not do that.  It was the perfect day for bike or motorcycle riding - although I didn't do that either.  It was pretty much the perfect day for any outdoor activity.  Maybe a bit cool for swimming, but that would only be because the water would be too cool.  It was the perfect day for some outdoor work - which is what I did today.  I broke a sweat a few times, but mostly it was perfectly pleasant.

My home is on a friendly street, located in a nice neighborhood, affectionately known as The 'Hood.   It is not heavily forested, so I have a hard time understanding where all the leaves come from.  The greater part of my afternoon was spent with the blower, rearranging the snowdrift-like piles of leaves from up against the fence, strategically spreading them evenly over my yard - with the plan being to mulch them over with my mower tomorrow afternoon.  It's clean-up week here in town, so I also cleaned out the shed that is attached to my storage building. It looks so very nice and tidy under there now!!!  I even got very brave and went behind the shed and cleaned out the four or five years' worth of inflatable swimming pools, tarps, and  associated paraphernalia.  Right now there's a huge pile of junk in my back yard, waiting for my dad to bring the trailer over tomorrow afternoon so we can haul it down to the dumpsters in town.

I'm really hoping we can get that toilet off my patio, too.  When I moved back to The 409, I replaced the toilet in my master bathroom, and the old one has been sitting on my patio ever since.  The kids think it is such a novelty, and they have to go "see the toilet on the patio" when they visit Greemaw.  How funny is THAT!?  Whitney and I tried to move it over to the pile today - but that dang thing weighs a ton.  I wonder if someone has hidden a dead body in the tank or something?  I'm going to be so sad if we can't haul it away.  I'm really hoping to enjoy some outdoor time on the patio this spring/summer, and there's just something about having a toilet out there that's just not conducive to the ambiance I'm trying to achieve.  I guess I could turn it into a water feature, or a planter, or something - but I'd really rather just send it to toilet heaven and be done with it.

It was a wonderfully quiet weekend.  (Except for that Girls Gone Wild thing on Friday night...)  Productive weekends make me happy.  Because even as busy as I was, and as much as I got done, there are still mountains of maintenance/improvement projects yet unfinished. The beautiful weather motivates me to get busy and check those items off my to-do list, so that I'll have time at the end of the day to enjoy the weather, the outdoors, and my good friends and neighbors here in The 'Hood.

With This Ring: A Message For My Married Friends

Over the past week or so, we've been hearing a lot about the Supreme Court case regarding gay marriage.  Yesterday and today, the news and social media have been running  with the story, and FB has been ablaze with icons both in support and protest of the issue.  Folks are sometimes not on their best behavior when they feel so strongly about something, and try so passionately to convince others that they are wrong.  I find it very disturbing, and I'm spending my lunch break sharing a few thoughts I've had. 

If married couples spent nearly as much time and energy working on their own marriage as they spend either supporting or fighting against gay marriage, then maybe the divorce rate between heterosexual couples wouldn't be so high.  Gay marriage, whether you support it or do not support it, will not be the destruction of the institution of marriage.  We heterosexuals have pretty much destroyed it ourselves. If a man marrying a man, or a woman marrying a woman can destroy your own personal marriage, then I question what your marriage is based on to start with. Whatever your point of view on the issue, be sure you give at least equally, hopefully more, attention to your own relationship with your spouse.  Absolutely - Stand up and fight for what you believe. If you're against it, say so.  If you're for it, say so.  But temper your fight with remembering that no matter what a person's religious or sexual orientation, we are all human beings, and should be treated with respect.  The haters and the name-callers make me sick - and it happens in both camps. Such behavior will never be conducive to bringing the two sides together - rather it will only further widen the chasm.  So wave your flags, carry your banners, stand on your soapbox, wear your t-shirts, and spread your message.  But don't neglect dedication to your own marriage in the process.  If the institution of marriage is truly important to you, then prove it by making your own the best it can be.   

(Note- this is my personal viewpoint, and not an invitation to discuss the rightness or wrongness of the issue.  Any comments of that nature will be removed, no matter which "side" you're on.  You're welcome to your own points of view and convictions, but if it's a debate you want, then you can start your own post.  I'm not engaging in that here. [insert the image of my sweet smiling face here]   As a divorced person, I feel very strongly about protecting your own marriage first.  Now- If you want to leave comments about how to have a strong marriage, and reveal your secrets to a happy relationship, then please feel free to share!) 

On A Roll!

There are few things about which I am truly persnickety.  I’m okay with store brand items for a goodly number of things, I’m grateful for generic drugs and I love thrift-store browsing.  Some products, though, just call for the real thing, even if its store-brand counterpart is less expensive.  Loaf bread isn’t something I buy often, but when I do, it’s the dreamy, soft, stick-to-the-roof-of-my-mouth Sunbeam bread that I must have.  I will bargain shop with my peanut butter, but still it’s either Jiff or Peter Pan.  Creamy, never crunchy.  And it’s Duke’s mayonnaise, hands down.  The item about which I’m most picky, as my traveling buddies will confirm, is my bathroom tissue.  Charmin Ultra Strong.  (When traveling, I pack my own tissue - how horrible to be stranded on the side of a mountain, miles from civilization, or in a hotel room somewhere with less than acceptable quality of tissue!!!) I will travel far and wide to make sure that I always have plenty of Charmin US close at hand. (Hand?  Really?  Sometimes I crack myself up!)  

This isn’t really “company conversation”, and perhaps a bit personal to share – but you know you take a risk at content when you come to my blog to read.  But the fact of it is, folks in my family have been sick in some fashion for the past four or five weeks.  We’ve all had upper respiratory problems, gastrointestinal problems, and seemed to pretty much pass the germs back and forth for weeks.  So between a runny nose and… well… running to the bathroom, I depleted my rolls of Charmin to a precariously low number.  It got to the point one day that during a particularly active phase of my illness, I realized that the bathroom closest to me was all out of Charmin – and the other bathroom was on the other side of the house.  This presented a challenge – (I’ll let you figure it out).  Thankfully, I survived the incident without undue collateral damage – and fortunately found another roll of tissue in the third bathroom, so that both of the ones I use each had a little bit of tissue. 

We have a new store in Statham.  It’s a Dollar General Market.  For years I’ve done most of my grocery shopping at Wal Mart.  I hate grocery/household shopping.  Not so much the actual walking down the aisles and putting stuff in the buggy, I just hate driving there, getting out of my car, and going into the store.  Then it’s back to the car, loading the stuff in the car, then taking it home, unloading, and putting it away.  Ugh.   Having the DGM a few blocks away has cut my Wal Mart trips considerably, and I can usually go two to three weeks between trips.  There are two issues that I have with the DGM:  The lack of quality meat, (though I truly didn't expect much in that regard, but if they're gonna carry it, they might as well carry some good stuff) and their toilet tissue selection.  Oh, they do indeed have my Charmin Ultra Strong, it’s just those flimsy little four-packs of the loosely-rolled variety – you know what I mean.  I only pick up those little “sample packs” in cases of extreme emergency.  My favorite place to buy the tissue is Target, where I can get a 12-pack that has rolls so thick and tightly bound that there’s an actual guarantee on the package that they will fit in your tissue-holder thingy.  Now THAT’s a fat roll of tissue!!  When I’m not sick, one of those 12-packs will last a very long time, which means fewer trips in my car to park, walk in the store, load/unload, etc.  That makes me happy.  And there’s such a secure feeling, knowing that all my bathrooms are fully stocked with my favorite tissue.  Even the “company” bathroom is stocked with the good stuff. 

But I digress.  Seriously – this post didn’t start out to be a commercial for Charmin.  That story was simply to preface a post about my weekend.  I had had tissue on my shopping list for days, but somehow it seemed that every day I thought I could wait “one more day” before going to the store.  (Did I mention how much I hate that chore?)  Friday evening I realized I was down to a few squares of Charmin, and I knew the time had come to bite the bullet and go shopping.  But it seemed like a more fun option to spend some time with Leyland and LillyAnn while Corey had his first T-ball practice, so we had some quality girl-time at the local McDonald’s.  By the time I took them home, I was pretty tired, and decided to wait until Saturday.  Morning came quickly, and I hit the floor running.  There was a couple hours of work to do, then set up for the egg hunt at church.  (My very first-ever indoor Easter egg hunt – thanks to the torrential rain.)  Around 1:00 we were all finished with the fun and cleanup, so the time had come to run the dreaded errands and buy the stupid tissue paper.  There were a few more things I needed to get for Lucy’s birthday party on Sunday, as well as some bulk-shopping at Sam’s Club, and a little Easter shopping for the grandkids.  Hours and hours later, I drag myself home, unload the groceries, put away the cold things, and head back out the door to DJs for some dinner.  BJ was there, and it was a quiet, restful evening.  Whitney had called earlier, and said Leyland was sleeping over at LillyAnn’s, Mary was at her mom’s, and Corey wanted to have a sleepover with Greemaw.  I picked him up around 8, got him bathed and smelling sweet, and settled in on the sofa bed watching Fireman Sam.  By the time I got bathed and smelling sweet my ownself, he was pretty much done for, and down for the night.  How I love that little man!!!   Early mornings are always so sweet when he crawls in bed with me for snuggle and tickle time. He looked so handsome for church!  He’s all into “looking good”, and wants to “dress” when he goes out.  I got him some new shoes on Saturday, and he was so proud of them.  He’ll want to wear them 24/7 (really!) so I hope they will survive at least a week, so they’ll look nice for Easter.  He was a very good boy at church, in somewhat of a shy mode, so I was surprised that he willingly went to Children’s Church without even looking back over his shoulder at me. 

Sunday afternoon was time to celebrate Lucy’s birthday!  She’s the most precious little girl, with such a beautiful smile and sweet personality.  She was pretty much wide open, and seemed to have had a grand time.  It was great seeing Michael, Linda, Ryan and Lucy, in addition to her guests.  What a fun afternoon!! 

Back home to work a while, a quick trip up the street for a bite of dinner with DJ and David, back home to finish work in time to catch the latest new episode of Revenge.  I had to stop and catch my breath for just a bit before getting ready for bed.  

              

Seems like I had just closed my eyes, and it was time to get up and start all over with a new week.  I never believed the old folks when they said  that time passes more quickly the older you get.  I absolutely believe it now.  Seems like every day is warp speed.  That’s great during the week – Friday really does come around fairly quickly – but it’s not so great on the weekends.  Monday gets here waaaaaay too fast!!!

It’s a good thing it was a busy weekend.  Yesterday was the anniversary of a very unpleasant event that set the stage for the ultimate demise of my marriage, and I really didn’t want to spend any time at all on that memory.  There are only a couple more “anniversaries” to endure, then all those “firsts” will be behind me. One of my favorite parts of the day was reminding myself, and sharing with some friends, that I have indeed survived. God has brought me through, and has held me steady and strong through the prayers and support of some very special people. 

My very FAVORITE part of the day was the sweet high-five from my brother, when I shared the significance of the day, and that I have not only survived it, but put it behind me. No words needed.  It’s funny how something so seemingly insignificant could mean so much.  Best Brother Ever.

So there you have it.  I was really ON A ROLL this weekend!  And happy to say that I'm starting the new week off with twelve brand-new rolls of Charmin Ultra Strong.  Hopefully all the germs are gone, and these will last for a while.  

Kiss Me, I'm Irish!

Kiss Me, I’m Irish!

I’ve known of my Irish roots since childhood, but never quite understood the meaning of that phrase.  It never stopped me from wearing a pin on St. Patrick’s Day that said “Kiss Me, I’m Irish”.  (And I must add, I did get a few takers over the years.. haha..) I still have several of those pins, but have chosen not to wear them as I’ve gotten older.  At my age, I’m not sure I’d be a willing participant to anyone who’d be might be willing to pucker up.

I Googled the meaning, and here’s what I learned.  It has to do with kissing the Blarney stone, which is thought to bring good luck.  You’ve heard of the “luck of the Irish”, the “lucky leprechauns”, the “pot of gold at the end of the rainbow” …  so for whatever reason, good luck is associated with Irish things.  Most people never see the blarney stone, much less get to kiss it, nor do we find little green men hiding in the woods around these parts.  So, legend has it, kissing anything remotely Irish is about the best we can do.  Therefore, kissing someone of Irish descent is as good as it gets on this side of the pond.  Therefore, I suppose on St. Patrick’s Day, anyone who wants a kiss (or a reason to party!) can claim to be Irish for a day in hopes that someone will kiss them for good luck. 

My Irish roots actually did spring forth from the motherland of lush green grass and rainy afternoons.   I believe the name of my ancestor who came to America from Ireland was William Strawier Dunahoo.  (My cousin Becky has the genealogy, and can confirm the correct name).  With the potato famine in Ireland in full swing, there was no work to be had, and he was near destitute.  He had no money in his pocket, but he had a dream in his heart.  A dream to come to America to make a new life for himself.  No money meant no ticket for passage, however, he somehow managed to sneak on board an American-bound vessel, and hid within the bowels of the ship for the entire trip.  After he arrived, he worked in a variety of occupations, and over the years, a branch of the Dunahoo family tree was rooted in Statham, where it grew and prospered, and produced several generations of Dunahoos, of which I am a “lucky” member.  It's a very interesting story, and I love to hear Becky tell it when we have family gatherings. 

I'm not a believer in "luck" so much, but it is kinda neat to be able to know the heritage of my mom's family.  Of course, there are three other branches (grandparents) in my family tree; one other of those is thought to be Irish, one German, and I'm not sure about the other.  There's a lot of DNA and math involved, but I'm going to claim to be of half-Irish descent.  If non-Irish folks can claim to be Irish one day of the year, then I should be able to stake a claim to being half-Irish every day.  Right?

Maybe I'll wear my pin today after all!

  

Background Checks Matter - Sometimes!

A while back, a person I know made an application for what sounded like his dream job.  A former client had recommended him to the owner of a very successful company, and an appointment was made. The first and second interviews went well.  After the second interview, he was told that he would be contacted within the next week to schedule a third meeting, a dinner date that would include the wives. The company placed a great deal of emphasis on family, and understood that a man with strong family values and a supportive wife would make a better employee and team member.  The call never came.  With the stellar interviews, personal and professional references from a very successful colleague, and the high qualifications of the applicant, it seemed odd that suddenly nothing was happening.  The applicant decided a follow-up phone call was in order, and at that time learned that he was no longer being considered for the position.

What happened?  Probably the background check.   Unfortunately, there was a black mark on the report.  An incident from many years ago, that should have been expunged, was the likely reason that he didn’t get the job.  An incident that had a perfect explanation – but the details aren’t listed on a background check.  Just the facts, ma’am.  And sadly, unless and until my friend hires an attorney and jumps through the legal hoops required, this black mark will follow him for the rest of his life.

Background checks contain Objective Information.  The Facts.  However, like the medical record of a patient, the Subjective Information, while it doesn’t change the Objective Information, can shed a different light, or offer an explanation regarding the Objective Information. In other words, Lucy can sometimes ‘splain what happened. The facts remain the facts, though.

In the past I have joked that before I would agree to go out with a man, he would have to provide references and a background check.  (With very few exceptions, if you could see a list of my choices in men, you would understand this!)  But would a background check provide the entire picture?  A squeaky clean background doesn’t mean that a person is above reproach, or that he hasn’t done bad things, or inflicted bad behavior/actions upon other folks.  It just means that he’s never been arrested for it.  A person’s mental state is not reflected on a background check.  Their integrity, or lack thereof, isn’t either.  The jerk factor, or the deadbeat factor won’t show up.  Should I demand his bank statements, to try to determine how he spends his money?  Maybe that would direct me to pharmacy purchases so that I would know whether or not he takes regular medications.  I’m sure he wouldn’t mind providing a list of said medications so that I can Google them, and get a better idea of what ailments he has.  Or better yet, perhaps he would sign a consent to release information form.  That way I can check his medical records, which are very revealing about a person, divulging not only medical info, but personal, social, and sometimes financial information as well.

A formal criminal background check, which is the most common form used for basic information, leaves a lot to be desired.  I couldn’t count on a clean report to ensure that my prospective date would be a good catch.  Because the picture is so much bigger than that. 

In today’s world, the words “background check” do not necessarily conjure up thoughts of job applications, and most certainly not boyfriend applications.  Our attention is immediately drawn to the hot-button topic of the day/week/month: Gun Control.  The media has inundated us with the sweet faces of the beautiful children killed at Sandy Hook, and like most folks, my heart breaks every time I see them. Most all of us have a soft spot for children – especially those of us with children or grandchildren the same ages as those who were killed.  It is unfathomable – a horror so unthinkable that we can’t and won’t imagine it happening in our town, at our school.  When I think of the 20 tiny little angels in heaven, I don’t worry for them.  But as a parent and a grandparent – my heart aches and I hurt deeply for the parents and grandparents of those babies. For weeks, we have seen those sweet faces on the television, on the internet, and in the newspapers.

A short time later, we were introduced to the faces of four more children.  They, along with their parents, stood behind President Obama, as he signed papers that would put into motion plans that the government has proposed to stop gun violence.  The two major talking points in this proposal are “Background Checks” and “Banning Assault Weapons.” 

To check the effectiveness of keeping “banned” items off the street, take a look at alcohol consumption during Prohibition.  Take a look at illicit drug activity today.  I won’t even waste my time writing, or yours reading, to discuss how great the concept of “banning” something works.  It’s a simple formula:  As long as there is a demand, there will be a supply.  End of argument.

To check the effectiveness of a background check, see my paragraph above regarding Background Checks for Boyfriends.  No doubt, background checks will stop a convicted felon from purchasing a firearm from a licensed dealer.  What felon doesn’t know that?  Who honestly believes a convicted felon would walk into a gun shop, fill out the paperwork, and then be surprised when he is denied?  No.  He will buy his firearms from someone else.  Just as will a mentally deranged person, a collector of “illegal” weapons, or the drug dealer, gang member, or everyday thug on the street.  A criminal isn’t going to attempt to legally purchase a firearm, regardless of a background check, that leaves behind a paper trail connecting him to that weapon.  As with my arguments on getting a background search for my potential boyfriend, it’s about as worthless a security measure for someone wanting to purchase a gun.  I could still end up with a crappy boyfriend, and the gun store could end up selling a gun to someone with evil intent.

The argument has been raised “if you’re not a criminal, or have no bad intent, then you shouldn’t object to background checks”.  And this is true, to some extent.  But here’s something to consider.  Before writing this, I made a phone call to a licensed gun store, to verify what I’m about to say.  Any store in the state of Georgia licensed to sell firearms, is required by the government to submit a background check on the person attempting to purchase it.  The checks are performed by the FBI.  I asked him what items would disqualify a person.  A felony conviction, a pending warrant, and “a few other things” that might raise a red flag.  He couldn’t (or maybe wouldn’t??) tell me a specific list of things.

Okay. Here’s the major point of my post.  (Thanks for hanging in here this long)  I truly don’t see, at least in my lifetime, the feds knocking on our doors, demanding that we surrender the firearms we have in our homes.  I believe (hope!) such an action would incite a revolution.  But consider this:  If the government wants to control the sale of guns, what better place to start than with the background check itself?  “The FBI” is the one who sets the criteria for Pass/Fail.  What if the criteria changes?  Currently the big no-no is a convicted felony charge.  What if in a few years, they start adding items to that list?  Examples:

1.     Do you suffer migraine headaches?

a.     FAIL.  You could go on a shooting rampage while in the clutches of a migraine.

2.     Do you currently, or have you ever taken antidepressant/anti-anxiety medication?

a.     FAIL.  Red flag for possible mental illness.

3.     Has anyone in your family ever died by anything other than medical illness?

a.     FAIL.  You probably want a firearm for retaliation purposes.

4.     Have you ever been involved in a divorce?

a.     FAIL.  You may have anger issues.

See where I’m going with this?  Call me paranoid, but there are plenty of ways for the government to “control” our guns that don’t include prying them out of our cold, dead hands.  At one time I was not opposed to background checks.  But now I’m even beginning to question my feelings on that – for the reasons stated above – 1) Folks who won’t pass it will just buy their guns on the street anyway, 2) The FBI can manipulate the criteria to the point that it will be virtually impossible for anyone, convicted felon or not, to pass the test.  Or, they can slap taxes on ammunition to the point that either the general public can’t afford to buy them, or the companies who make it can’t stay in business.  Yes, there are many ways the government can implement “gun control”.  And last, but not least, do I really want Big Brother knowing what kind, and how many weapons I choose to keep in my home?  No, I don’t think so.  When I’m ready to purchase another firearm, I think I’ll just buy from an individual.  It’s nobody’s business but mine.  (Or the person who might make the unwise decision to put me in a position to defend myself or my family….)

Background checks, as used for purchasing a gun, simply state the obvious.  It’s information that’s public record anyway.  Granted, I could hire a Private Investigator to do a comprehensive background check for a potential boyfriend, but that could be quite costly.  The information available could be invaluable, no doubt, though still not a 100% guarantee that I’d be getting a boyfriend of the character and quality that I want.  Likewise, unless and until such comprehensive background check is done to allow the purchase of firearms, it’s pretty much a worthless concept.  But, same as the boyfriend, even then, it wouldn’t be a fail-safe system. 

But, alas… “Check” away, Big Brother.  Seems to me like you’re already doing that, and it’s not making any difference.   Whatever.  I’m sure you’ll continue relentlessly in your quest to make it more difficult for law-abiding citizens to keep and bear arms. 

Do I like seeing Sandy Hook, Columbine, Aurora stories on the news?  Don’t be absurd.  Of course not. I'm as horrified as the liberal person who thinks all guns should be banned for personal use. Neither do I like the murders or random drive-by shootings in everyday towns across America on pretty much a daily basis.  There is no argument that we all want the same thing:  For the violence to stop.  But the broader agenda here is that these violent crimes give government a “reason”, or the self-granted “authority” to regulate the sale and ownership of guns.  How many times does it have to be said?  It’s not the guns who kill the people.  It is (evil and/or crazy) people who kill people. Evil and/or crazy cannot be harnessed or controlled.  Even Big Brother can’t do that. Yes, we want the violence to stop.  But firearm stores and gun shows are not the place to make it happen.

I’m normally not a conspiracy theorist.  But even I am beginning to wonder if there isn’t some underlying selfish, evil intent on the part of the government to raise awareness of gun violence, just to promote their agenda?  That said, the gun-rights supporters need to scream just as loudly, and demand that media coverage include stories of how firearms (in the hands of private citizens) were used to thwart crimes and/or stop evil in its tracks.  I.e.  “The only way to stop a bad guy with a gun is a good guy with a gun.”

Thomas Jefferson (attributed) said it best: “When governments fear the people, there is liberty.  When the people fear the government, there is tyranny.  The strongest reason for the people to retain the right to keep and bear arms is, as a last resort, to protect themselves against tyranny in government.” 

Hopefully, that last resort will never again come to pass.  However, the fact that we are a free nation is the result of that very thing happening.  Had our founding fathers and ancestors not been armed, we’d still be paying homage to a king across the pond, and subject to a monarchy. 

I submit that a better way to curb gun violence, or violence of any sort, would be to ensure our cities and towns were better able to afford adequate police protection and equipment, more justice in the criminal court system, and more resources to better educate our children.  Better educated children growing up in a safer environment will net more responsible adults.  Instead of using the faces of 20 little angels to promote your gun agenda, Uncle Sam, why not use those faces as motivating factors to invest time and resources so parents and teachers can help them be better children? 

Meanwhile, instead of using FBI manpower to perform background checks, why not let them  solve crimes, and investigate things like CIA leaks, or apathetic/worthless cabinet members, or finding the truth (instead of hiding it) about matters of national security?  (Wait - silly me.  Like THAT would ever happen!)

Background checks can indeed matter – if you’re applying for a job, or maybe a lease agreement…. But not to a bad person who wants a gun.