Wednesday, July 30, 2014


For some reason this post is not showing up on the blog reader. I really appreciate those of you who stopped by anyway. I am trying to fix it but so far no luck. 

Did you ever runaway from home as a kid??  Were you running away or running to??

My hygienist and I kind of got on this subject recently in a round about way as we discussed her new baby and his older brother which reminded me of a post that I ran in 2009. My only followers at that time-- Judy, Robin and Barry are excused as they were here for the original. 


What attracts me to a man today is the same thing that attracted me when I was a 10 year old.  First turn on for me is a kind heart, then sense of humor and finally someone who doesn't have to debate if something is right or wrong, he just knows what is right and does it. 

The movie version of Roy Rogers was just that and everything I read in the movie mags confirmed it. I saw his movies on Saturdays at the 10 cent theater and listen to his radio show every week.  Of course he also had those really sexy squinty eyes along with being a squeaky clean, Dudley Do Right type. I was totally smitten.

There was only one problem with this hero worship. He lived in California and I lived in Key West. I soon came up with the idea that if I could just get to California, all would work out. This was during my peak popular phase so I was quite confident for a mini stalker.   

So the plan was formed, I was going to run away from home. I planned that when I got to his ranch, I would hide in his barn where he would find me and take me in. Simple and brilliant. I never even considered his wife Dale's position. I was all for her keeping the kids though when she moved out.

Now I loved my family very much except for my brother Jimmy. We were so close in age that we fought constantly. Any foul deed I could hang on Jimmy, I tried.  So, out side of Jimmy, there was no reason to leave home other than Roy. I was running to something rather than away from.

It was a different story for my friend Alice. She had a raggedy home life so when she heard of my plan, she readily signed on. She was definitely running away. 

However, we knew we needed money and a ten cent weekly allowance wasn't going to cut it. We set up lemonade stands and also sold coconuts. The tourists thought we were cute and paid the price just to get a picture of those native urchins.  

Our little fortune built to the grand total of $13.82. Surely that would be enough to get us to California, so departure day was set and we quietly packed our pillow cases. 

Now I knew there was only one way to walk off the small island and I decided I had to send my parents looking in the wrong direction or we would never make it. 

So I composed a note blaming Jimmy saying I just couldn't live in the same house with him any more (one last dig).  I threw in that I was going to take the boat to Cuba as a red herring. My Dad had told me that he had done that when he was a kid so I thought he would buy that story. I didn't realize that passenger boats were no longer running to Cuba.

I have no idea why, but we chose to leave in the afternoon. I had my stuff in a pillow case and was toting my BB gun for protection. Alice had a similar pillow case and we set off. We had not gone far when the enormity of what we were doing set in. I was never going to see Mom and Dad ever again which suddenly hurt a lot, though not seeing Jimmy again was still a plus. Even Alice was getting home sick and we weren't a mile from home. Being 10 years old hit home.

Along with the homesickness, I was also getting scared. Suddenly the strangers we saw looked frightening.  Of course everyone was staring at the two children carrying pillow cases, a BB gun and probably my attempt at a sinister evil eye was more laughable than effective.

We were just about to turn around when my Dad drove up and ordered us into the car. He said nothing as he drove Alice home.  Dad was suffering what all parents do in similar situations. He was overwhelming relieved that I was OK yet he really wanted to kill me for the worry I'd caused. 

My mom hugged me till she hurt me and then hugged me some more but I knew even with all the hugging, I was in real trouble.  Still, I was so relieved not to be on the road that punishment was the least of my concerns.

It took a whole day for them to decide on the degree of my punishment. We kids were never spanked and I always envied those who were. Sure it may hurt for a while, but then it was over. My punishments always lasted for weeks. 

All my comics were taken from me, I was put on an allowance hold for a month, my share of the earnings had to go into the bank, I was grounded to the block for two weeks. Finally and unbelievably,  I was no longer allowed to play with Alice.

To be fair, I told my Dad that the whole thing was not Alice's fault, that it had been all my idea. 
Then he said what parents rarely say to their kids. " I know," he told me," The reason you can't see her is because you are a bad influence on her."

Ah,--- Ah--- I had to admit he was right. It was me who was the bad influence but that still hurt a tad to hear that from someone who had always before had my back and thought me perfect. But I was home again and that was good.

Foot note, today Jim and I are quite close. When we reached high school, we quit squabbling and realized we really liked each other and he became my protective big brother. Love ya Jim
. See ya in April. 

Did you ever runaway? How far did you get?

Monday, July 21, 2014


Assassins have been around since the beginning of time but thanks to  the wealth of media these days, we are more aware of the trend. Hiring someone else to do the dirty work is not new and murder for hire has become the new divorce. 

Now days, if you find your spouse annoying, there is no need for lawyers, long drawn out contentious wrangling and dividing up the spoils of marriage. Instead, just go to a local bar, seek the guy with lots of neck tattoos sitting quietly in the corner and see if he is up for some quick cash.  Hopefully, you have found your contract killer and not a government undercover guy. 

My question is, should the surviving spouse enjoy freedom from dirty hands by this transaction?? Legally of course not--- but how about morally since they don't do the actual killing??

The reason for the preceding is that I have sunk to a similar low and am now seeking absolution. I have hired such a killer who is tattooless, works for dog food and kind words. 

My  soul searching began recently when I saw Callie jump on something and snaring it in her mouth. Thinking it was another poor fledgling bird, I yelled at her and like a good dog, she dropped it.  

However it was not a bird she dropped but a dreaded garden destroying vole, still quite alive though wet.  The small creature was ever gratefully for the release and scurried for safety under the porch hoping to live another day. 

"Get it!!!" I yelled to a confused Callie, now giving her permission to murder the little beast I had just told her to drop.   She didn't say anything of course but "please make up your mind" was written all over her face. She owns the quizzical look.  

Poor baby, I am sure she was wondering why I was standing there with a perfectly good garden hoe in my hands, doing nothing but yelling at her as the vole ran between my shoes.   

The need for removing these voles has been on my mind for quite a while as the cute little creatures are really destructive. Repellents have not worked nor has trying to find vole resistant plants worked. Seems they aren't picky eaters.   

 Yes, I am too much of a wuss to do the deed myself.   However I am not above encouraging my eager dog to dispatch them and labeling the murder, "nature."  Does that keep my tender heart pure or does that make me a huge hypocrite??   

Though the creature did not go to  vole heaven that day, permission has been granted and I have hired my killer. Am I not on the same level as the disgruntled spouse?? ?? I am afraid I know that answer. 

Do you contract the killing of pests or are you able to do the deed yourself?? 

Or are you truly kind hearted and let them live long and prosper?? 
Sigh, I use to be in the latter group. 

This was sent to me by my Florida friend Sue. Think it sums up most of the comments if you substitute pests for people. Thanks Sue.