FAVORITE QUOTES:

 

These are sayings or quotes that I've read or heard and deemed worthy to write in my journal.  I've been collecting them for years:  ( old favorites, copied or my own, wise, wry, and "run like hell")

"uh-oh!"

"Do you have a  minute?"

stars burn out, it's the flame that counts

memories are stars in the dark night of sorrow          

go with the flow

never ask "Why?"

"undo" is your friend

what good is cake without the icing?

too soon old, too late wise

in 100 years - all new people

is memory something we have, or something we've lost?

happiness is flowers in both hands

my dogs keep me human

"Time is a predator that stalks us all our lives"  Star Trek

the meaning of life - just to be alive.    tv - "six feet under"

"Sometimes being a bitch is all you have to hold on to." S. King 

"we can love completely without complete understanding" McClean

"What we do in life echoes in eternity." Gladiator

FATHER'S DAY JUNE 16, 2013

• 

   

  
  

  • • •   

        
        

        
        

    • 
      

                        

      
      

                               

            

      
      

      
      

      
      

      
      

      
      

      
      

                      MY DADDY 

      
      

      “Play quietly today.  Don’t wake Daddy.

      He worked the graveyard shift.”

                                                      

      We shared the joy of reading, swinging,

      and singing very loudly.

      “Rock me to sleep, Daddy.”

      “Push me higher, Daddy, higher.”

      
      

      In later years, we’d swing on the deck and discuss the stars.

           “Were they looking back at us?”

      With great anticipation we awaited 1986

           and Halley’s Comet.

      “Guess we’ll not make 2061.”

      
      

      Dignified white moustache over a gap toothed grin.

      Same pew each Sunday morning

      Vigorously enjoying our favorite hymns.

      On his knees in prayer each night.

      
      

      Intelligence glowed in his eyes and speech,

      though he quit high school wearing sandals in winter.

      Served his country with honor in WWII

      while getting a tan in the Caribbean sun.

      
      

      A special small laugh when I called each day

      as if it had been years since we’d talked.

      We shared a quick temper

      and an inability to patiently wait for anything.

      
      

      He was my North Star.

      I’ll miss him ‘til I die.

      But I’m not afraid of death.

      I know he’s patiently waiting for me now.

      
      

    
    

MERRY CHRISTMAS FROM LAKE OF THE OZARKS
Not much boating going on recently, so everyone is busy preparing for the
Holidays. All my neighbors seem to be in a house-lighting competition. (I'm really appreciating the electrical power and coverage of the one right next door who lights up my bedroom every night). However, since I don't climb ladders any more, I have to concentrate on the inside preparations.

Most of my decorations are collections. My pocketbook and I have been in the collecting business for way too many years. I know I should cut back, but who can resist adding more each year - especially when the U.S. economy and Hallmark needs the business.

This is my seven foot Star Trek and Star Wars ornament tree. I try to keep them separated, but I'm almost out of space........
YOU CAN DOUBLE CLICK THE CORNER OF ANY PIC TO ENLARGE IT. TO RETURN TO BLOG, RIGHT CLICK AND CLICK ON "BACK" IN DROPDOWN WINDOW.



I thought you might expecially like to see up-close the 1991 ORIGINAL STAR TREK ENTERPRISE and the 1992 SHUTTLECRAFT. The Shuttlecraft has Spock speaking, "Shuttlecraft to Enterprise. Spock here. Happy Holidays. Live long and prosper."


Another favorite collection is Snowbabies. My family, especially my grandkids
have helped me fill an entire china cabinet with these delightful little angels.
Here's some of them.



I've been collecting dolls since forever it seems. So when Astin-Drake Galleries came out with a Nativity set with 12 inch china dolls, guess who was a real sucker for them?



Jim Shore Christmas characters has been high on the collecting list since my dil gave me one many years ago.





Since I also collect depression glass, the china cabinet also gets a holiday makeover. A big "thank you" to the Christmas Cactus for blooming right on time.

This small tree holds ornaments from all my trips - many with my daughter to the White House, Smithsonian, Boston, Newport, Pikes Peak, New York's Tavern on the Green, Museum of Art - plus DisneyWorld, Texas, New Orleans, Germany, Italy, and Mexico, and of course Clay Concerts. One of my favorites is from Helen - King Kong clutching the Empire State Building(he's down there on the left below the Wright Bros. biplane).




The fireplace is lit and the mantle is decked.
(BYW the doll on the coffee table was handmade and given to me by my mother many, many years ago.)


The big flocked tree is decorated and so are the dogs (and don't they look just delighted?).


Tommy, Molly and I are ready for Santa's big day. (guess i better put out the fire in the fireplace). And it wouldn't be Christmas or geni/Jeananne without a poem.



STAR-GIVING by Ann Weems
What I'd really like to give you for Christmas is a star....
Brilliance in a package,
something you could keep in the pocket of your jeans
or in the pocket of your being.
Something to take out in times of darkness,
something that would never snuff out nor tarnish,
something you could hold in your hand,
something for wonderment,
something for pondering,
something that would remind you of what Christmas has always meant:
God's Advent Light in the darkness of this world.

But stars are only God's for giving,
and I must be content to give you words and wishes and packages without stars.
But I can wish you life as radiant as the Star
that announced the Christ Child's coming,
and as filled as awe as the shepherds who stood beneath its light.
And I can pass on to you the love that has been given to me,
ignited countless times by others
who have knelt in Bethlehem's light.
Perhaps, if you ask, God will give you a star.

August 13th Road Trip and Concert Recap

LAKE OZARK TO HAMMOND – 12 HOURS OF ECSTASY

Since it only took twelve hours to return to Lake Ozark from our Merrillville, Indiana, hotel and the Clay/Ruben concert near Chicago, I have plenty of time left today to do my recap. If there are short gaps between sentences, don’t worry…….when my head hit the keyboard nothing essential was harmed….like the keyboard.


Nan and I were up at 4:30 a.m.Thursday and rarin’ to go…..well, at our age, sorta slow-motion rarin’……but we were out of the house by 5:30, Nan in full makeup and me full of coffee, so we both felt we would be able to cope in the dark. Now comes the
RECAP of why it took us over an hour to get to Eldon – 11 miles from my house. Obviously I had not had enough coffee. On our first foray, we didn’t get out of the driveway before I turned and said to Nan in the pitch dark, I better get my knee brace, just in case……as if the worse thing that could happen to us was that my knee would go out…..such innocents we were then.

Next we made it about a half mile when I turned and said to Nan in the dark, I wonder if I left the garage light on? I made what I thought was a U-turn at the first cross-street and started back to my house. After a while I turned and said to Nan in the not-quite-so-dark, I don’t think we’re on my road anymore…..these houses don’t look familiar……another U-turn and we returned to the original turn and in the dawning light I said to Nan, I think this is my road. Sure enough it was my road, and the garage light was on. Nan was very understanding.

On the last foray we made it to the stoplight at the end of my road, when I turned in the daylight and said to Nan, (I was somewhat startled to see she what staring straight at me), I wonder if I have my phone. I searched my handbag. No phone. Now, I had to have my phone, in case the dog sitter needed to call me (btw, the dogs were quite excited each time I re-entered the house and were rather pissed when they didn’t get their usual treat.) So I pulled into a bank parking lot and searched my tote bag (plastered with Clay pix, of course). No phone. So back to my house we went…… all the time trying to remember where I was the last time I used my cell. The dogs were snarling when I entered the house this time. I found my phone, took a xanax, sidestepped the snarling dogs, turned out the garage light, and limped back to the car. Nan was still staring.

When we arrived in Eldon, an hour late, Joan and Joyce were QUITE ready to go and off we went, Nan and I in the back, Joan driving her luxurious Lincoln Town Car, and Joyce navigating with a bulging folder of printed directions from various sources at the ready.

The trip seemed to be going well for several hours. I slept most of the time, (trying to be unobtrusive, naturally) but could hear Joyce reading directions off and on. Then I kept hearing , “where is highway X? why are we going right through the middle of town? we have to turn around and go back for aways.” This woke me up.

I hate to reveal that this happened more than once. Since I am not trusted to drive by anyone I know (by that I mean, anyone who has ridden with me) I appreciate any and every one who gives me a ride and only occasionally asked, “what city are we in now?”
When I learned we were in Chicago/Indianapolis megalopolis, I sat straight up. We seemed to be in an inner city area. I deduced this by the narrow, crowded streets and
bars on all the windows and doors and gas stations with HUGE black bars at pay windows. We are going very slowly with stops at each intersection. Joyce is mumbling directions and Joan is repeating she can’t read the street signs. Nan and I are clutching one another in the backseat like Hansel and Gretel in the forest.

This continued for quite awhile until Joan finally deciphered a street sign and low and behold we were on the right “track”. Joyce’s directions became street by street turns and we all eagerly awaited “Casino Roadway”. Unfortunately, things were not that simple. We were back to, “turn around and go back to where we made the wrong turn.” My only contribution during this was, (which was only half in jest) “Look for Lake Michigan”

On our way back to “where we made the wrong turn”, we even sighted the majestic Horseshoe casino building and complex itself. Unfortunately, we could not actually see a road going to it. It was kinda like Cinderella’s castle far off in the mist. So we did what every intelligent middle aged, Midwesterner does. We pulled into a McDonalds to ask for directions. (here’s the very best part of this story). As Joyce was getting out of the car, the lady the SUV sitting next to us with her door open said, “you look like you’re lost.” Joyce ran to her like Poo to a honey jar. We watched out the window and this angel of mercy talked very slowly to Joyce, who returned to the car with a beatific smile on her face.

“This lady says she will lead us there.”

We had been on the road 12 hours and arrived exactly an hour before the concert was to begin.

And so ends the story of our road trip to the Clay/Ruben concert,……….except for the parts where the valet parking attendant told us we were in the lot for “Players” only (and in possession of cards denoting such status, of course) and Joyce begged him in a little girl voice and tears in her eyes to let us park there – which he did. ( who says big city folks aren’t generous) And the part where we wandered through the screaming slot machines endlessly searching for a bathroom.

Oh, and the concert was great and Clay and Ruben were in great voice and comedic spirits and the band was great and loud and the audience was appreciative of both men
and Clay looked great (except for the hair). My theory is that he lays face down on a sturdy ironing board and Ruben sprays starch on whatever hair falls on the board and then irons it and when Clay gets up that amount of hair stands straight up like a “L” from the top of his head.

HALLOWEEN TIME AGAIN


Halloween, like all holidays, is not as busy around my house as it used to be. But business is picking up......my grandkids are getting old enough to come over now. Colin and Megan live close so i get to see them in their cartoon characters. Last year they were Scooby-Do and a purple Care Bear.

]


Also last year i got to see my Connecticut grandson, Illeas, before Halloween, but he was still happy to pose in his Dragon costume.



i got a kick out of this Frankenstein Hand that moved across the table, but Illeas wasn't too sure it was safe.


Even the dogs dressed up last year.





My Tommy seems much happier about this holiday than Lara's Maddy. Looks like she thinks she may have to make an emergency call to the ASPCA.

Here's some memories i wrote about a couple of years ago.
Remember when there were no such things as store-bought costumes??? You were a hobo, or ghost, or wore your mother’s clothes….that was about it. But nobody worried about razors in apples then either.

The Halloween that will always stand out in my mind is the year i begged and begged my mother to let me wear her dangly rhinestone earrings with one of her fancier dresses and high heels (now these were her very nicest earrings, mind you) and she refused. But being the persistent only-child i was, i bugged her until she relented.

Of course, i lost one of them somewhere along my route. I just hated to go home that night. Not that i was afraid i would be punished, because i knew i wouldn’t be. But because i knew how hurt she would be….to lose that favorite earring…and that i had been so careless after i had promised and promised how careful i would be. Nothing hurts a child like that “mother guilt thing” does it? I use it on my kids all the time now..

The only other Halloween i really remember was the last one. My girlfriend and i must have been thirteen or fourteen….still young enough to want to get as much candy as we could (girls didn’t grow up so quickly then, obviously)….but aware enough of our age and height to be a little self-conscious. I remember we had a great time and were amassing great quantities of calories when we went to the last house we ever went to (these momentous occasions need to be documented, yaknow). The woman gave us candy, but guess she just couldn’t help herself from ruining our evening, “Aren’t you girls a little old for this?”

Now i wonder what would prompt her to say that to two young girls. She ruined this holiday for us forever. Maybe she had had a bad day herself, maybe she was just tired from answering the door bell, maybe she was just a frustrated old bitch. I’m sure she had problems of her own (all adults do). But my girlfriend and i didn’t understand that. We only knew we had been slapped in the face. The candy really didn’t even taste too good that night. We felt ashamed that we had been going door to door and embarassing ourselves and didn’t even realize it. Unfortunately, innocence ends so much sooner these days. days.

When my kids were little we lived in a great neighborhood and I made all their costumes. The best was the robot - two cardboard boxes spray painted silver with wire antennae on top. By that time, i always accompanied them on their forages(maybe even stole a snickers bar once in a while when they weren’t looking). Anyway, the neighbors would always invite us all in and they would oooooh and aaaah over their costumes and the kids would just preen with pride.


What memories! Now all the kids go from store to store at the mall. No meeting neighbor kids to go from door to door. No running up the street in the dark, yelling and shouting maybe even howling to the sky just for the fun of it. No discussions of which neighbors gave the best treats and which were so stingy you might as well skip their house or which house to skip because there were rumors that they didn't like kids there.....and besides they never left their porch light on anyway. Everything has changed, but then it always does, doesn't it.


But still…….i always wonder who found that rhinestone earring and what they did with it.

It’s just me, geni

p.s. sorry about the Christmas music. It is much too much hard work to change it and besides the stores all have Christmas stuff everywhere....why not my music??

Check out these

LIVE FROM NEW YORK…..IT’S ME ON LIBERTY ISLAND



CLICK TO ENLARGE


AND HELEN WITH ME AND RAMESES OR XERCES OR PTAH AT THE METROPOLITAN MUSEUM OF ART






Hi everybody,

I keep waiting for Helen to write a blog about our wonderful five day vacation and cult trip to New York City. Whenever I think about it, an old tune seems to waft through my mind, like from one of those old Clint Eastwood spaghetti westerns…… “THE GOOD, THE BAD, AND THE UGLY.”

Perhaps it would be wise to start with the GOOD.

Helen and I did have a glorious if sometimes frustrating time. We discovered we had a lot in common (besides CA, of course) since we both loved sleeping late, reading, museums, food, and makeup,(more later on this),. First of all, our prayers were answered and ours was NOT one of the 500 American Airlines flights cancelled that morning…..getting up at 3:30 am to get to St Louis was a bitch though.

Spamalot was glorious! We saw it the first night we were in ny. We had sixth row seats on the left (which we had been advised to get by previous attending clayfans.) I initially was quite upset with these seats because since there were described as four seats from the aisle, I had innocently (read; gullibly) assumed that they were counting from the left center aisle……not the left side wall aisle. The bad thing was that we couldn’t see about 1/6th of the left side of the stage. A nice (read; infinitesimal) glass of wine from the theater bar soon elevated my spirits. The good thing was that we could see Clay as clearly as if he were just 6 feet before us. I slapped Helen’s hand several times to try to curtail that grasping motion she developed early in the show. Spam was hilarious and Clay is quite the comedian. And no one yelled his name from the audience. However, a lot of us gave only him a standing ovation for the final bows to which he gave an open arms, palms up “what can you do?” expression to his fellow actors.





Yes, we did go to the stage door to try for an autograph. (yes, i became a groupie rather late in life.)After the show we were rather slow getting out of the theater and then didn't know where the stage door was......by the time we found where it was......and we had walked past it at least 4 times that day......the crowd was 6 or 7 deep. obviously we are not GOODFANS. but we did wait and see him come out but no signed Playbills for the slow....and slow witted.


GOOD AND BAD:

The location of our hotel, the Milford Plaza, was wonderful…right in the middle of the theater district……and lots of deli’s. On the other hand it was quite old with small rooms and very leaky faucets, which Helen reported to the hotel desk . Conversely, they had just installed new elevators which had no floor numbers inside the elevator. On one trip down, we properly pushed number one for the lobby, entered, and when the doors opened we were in Santa’s Workshop, without the toys and elves, however. This floor seemed to be a storage and working area for the restoration crew. Helen was a little worried, but I had her document our predicament with my brownie instamatic (see below) Luckily the buttons outside the elevators worked properly and we were soon in the lobby. Helen complained nosily, and I delighted in showing the conserirge conciurge, conseeirgh…..man in the booth, my digital pix.





More hotel woes the next day when we returned from our day-long trek through (twice) Central Park and when we finally returned to our room we found we were unable to unlock our door and had a doorknob note saying, “SEE THE MANAGER”. I felt like we were students being sent to the principal, and I knew that that Hell-raisin’ Helen had got us in deep doodoo.

Sure enough, they said they were unable to fix the faucet and we had to move to another room……..ohohohohohohoh.

I was right! This new room was the detention area, obviously……even smaller than the first, on the street side of the hotel (ah, the music of a ny night!!) and instead of a closet it had an ancient wooden armoire…..I kid you not. I kept expecting Ethel Merman to jump out of it and sing “NEW YORK, NEW YORK” at any minute…….




VIEW FROM THE DETENTION ROOM WINDOW

Well, we survived….I refused to let Helen complain any more. I have much more to tell about Tavern on the Green, Metropolitan Museum of art, Statue of Liberty boat trip, Macys and shopping on 5th avenue. My lovely daughter Lara Jean came into ny Sunday afternoon to have lunch and shop with us.

Here’s where the makeup comes in. There’s this great shop about the size of Walmart with just makeup and mirrors and samples and little brushes and q-tips and all kinds of sample applicators…and lots of employee-makeup-artists standing around to convince you how lovely you look. We all bought too much….

Then we went to the gigantic Toys R Us with a roaring t-rex……..but that’s too much to tell…..

TTYL, geni

Christmas Greetings, dear friends,

Here's just a little Christmas joy from my house to your house.(you can click on any picture to enlarge it.)













Colin was my only grandchild to visit Santa this year. Megan and Illeas are too little and that red suit and white beard are rather scary. Anyone recognize the last pic of the two cuties with Santa?


My friends and I enjoyed a wonderful Christmas Concert by Clay Aiken in Wichita the end of November. We partied of course.












And here is a personal Christmas story i wrote as part of the fan club.


Christmas is a time for families to be together, even if they live hundreds of miles apart, and each family has its own traditions as every married couple quickly discovers. My husband’s family lived in another town in Missouri – a three hour drive for us. And they absolutely knew the best time to celebrate Christmas was December 24th with a big dinner that afternoon and then the opening of all the presents on Christmas Eve. All family members were required to be there. My family, on the other hand, who lived in our home town, knew that Christmas morning was the correct time to celebrate the season, so that all of Santa’s presents would be miraculously on hand. And all members of the family were required to be there.

So, like the obedient son and daughter, my husband and I were, we attempted to please everyone. Early in the morning of each December 24th we packed up our two kids, a load of presents for seven relatives, and of course, the dog……a very even tempered, though rather large, German Shepherd named Frieda, and drove the three hours from the Lake of the Ozarks to Kansas City in order to spend the day and evening with DH’s family. Then around nine or ten p.m. we repacked presents from seven people to the four of us, and tossed Frieda and the sleeping kids into the back of the station wagon, where they nestled quite comfortably on the foam rubber mattress in the back, (anyone else remember those?) and began the three hour drive home. If you’re not old enough to remember these wonderful inventions, station wagons were smaller than a minivan, but larger than a SUV, although without the four-wheel drive and the prestige.

Usually this drive passed relatively quickly, flushed as we were with family conviviality, Christmas turkey, and new and unusual presents, not to mention a tiny bit of Christmas Cheer. However, this particular year the weather Geni decided to grant the wishes, not of obedient, traveling sons and daughters, but those of frivolous stay-at-home children pleading for a White Christmas. A blizzard was gathering force as we left Kansas City heading south.

The return trip was taking far longer than the usual three hours, and one of the main reasons for this was because DH always took the rural Missouri, back country roads home, instead of Interstate 70. This was because he had personally checked the mileage both ways…. and hell would freeze over ( and it almost did that night) before he would waste an ounce of gas driving extra miles. Nevermind the fact that Interstate 70 would be under constant maintenance by numerous snow plows, even though it was midnight on Christmas Eve.

So…. when we were about three-fourths of the way home and down to twenty miles per hour on that path that was less traveled…. but needless-to-say….an unplowed, curvy, hilly, two lane road…..the fury of the storm intensified to near Antarctic conditions…..and since the windshield wipers could barely remove the snow fast enough (not to mention the ice buildup that the defroster wasn’t able to manage) visibility was down to a few feet, and we barely missed a car stalled at the side of the road.

DH swerved and skidded the bulky station wagon to a stop. I heaved a sigh of relief when I realized we were still on the pavement and not sliding off the shoulder and sledding down one of the scenic Ozark Hills. But said sigh immediately turned into a gulp as I realized he was shifting into reverse and slowly backing up to the stalled car. I stared at DH with a look that said, “Are you out of your mind, picking up a hitchhiker in this storm? We’ll disappear from the face of the earth and no one will ever even find our bones?”

About this time a man’s ungloved hand rapped on my passenger’s side window. Well, whatcha gonna do??? I rolled down the window. The snow frosting the man’s uncovered head told the story of his long wait for another car to come down this lonely road so late at night on Christmas Eve. In a few words he told us that his car had run out of gas, but they only needed to go a short distance to the next town, if we could just take him and his family there to their relatives.

“Sure, get in” I heard coming from the generous man sitting beside me. I gritted my teeth, which I tried to turn into a smile. Then I saw his pregnant wife exiting the car, holding a sleeping youngster. Another child climbed over the front seat and they all quickly ensconced themselves between the multitudes of presents in our back seat.

Of course, this woke up my children and Frieda on the mattress at the rear.
The four sleepy children stared at each other over the back seat and Frieda’s smile was somehow similar to mine, I think….which could have been misconstrued by some, but not this desperate family. They all settled in and seemed to relax in the warmth of the car.

Not a word was said as we drove the few miles to their intended destination. Perhaps
they were as uneasy about getting into a stranger’s car and I had been about inviting them. But it wasn’t long before we came to another of the small towns that dotted this infrequently traveled road, and the man pointed out a small, brightly lit home, obviously waiting at that late hour for their Christmas relatives. As we pulled into the drive, an elderly face appeared at the window and the door immediately opened. The stranded family piled out of the back seat and hurried inside.

This family man, of so few words, paused as he held the open back door, obviously searching for just the right ones to say. Then he stuck his head back inside the car and I heard a soft, choked, “God bless you,” as he quickly closed the door and turned to follow his family inside the welcoming house.

Yes, Christmas is a time for families to be together, regardless of the day or the date…and I’ll always remember the blessings given and received on that snowy night by those who believed in the Spirit of Christmas.