Letters From Heaven Life should not be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely, but rather to skid in sideways yelling "YAHOO! What a ride!"
"When I am no longer here and can not comfort you or touch you or wipe away your tears, remember that my soul will gently caress your heart through the soft breezes of springtime."
P. Schultz
Dear LFH: What side of the bed do you sleep on? (If I'm standing at the foot looking at you.) :P
Dear Miss Deirdre: First of all, if you're standing at the foot of my bed looking at me, one of us is in big trouble! Aside from that, I attempt to sleep in the middle. However, I am usually out-voted by a man-person, a 50-pound dog and a 13-pound cat. In which case, I generally end up on the floor. On the left side.
Dear LFH: I saw this on Tammy's...I'll ask you a different question tho...um...if you could be any animal in the world what would you be and why?
Dear Harmonia: Well ... nothing like cheating, huh? Okay, so I stole the idea from Tammy and you stole the question I asked Tammy! I suppose turnabout is fair play. I personally would be a cat. But not just any cat, mind you. I would be Stephanie's cat. Her cats are allowed to do anything! Trust me on this one. I know from personal experience.
Sincerely, LFH ****** Abby from FunnyGirl2 wants to know:
Dear LFH: Here's something I've been wondering lately: Should I have that mole on my nose removed? Oh, sorry, just talking to myself there for a minute. Here's a question for you: If your house were on fire, and you had to leave in a jiffy, what would you grab on your way out?
Dear Abby: Absolutely! Get rid of the mole! It's very distracting, not to mention that I've heard it plays havoc with your love life. But that's another story. Now as to your second question (which by the way, I'm letting you get away with this time only because you didn't know this was limited to one question per person), the very first thing I would grab on my way out is my own ass! After that, I'd have to say probably the other animals.
Sincerely, LFH ****** From Herb over at Herb's Place comes the following:
Dear LFH: If a man speaks in the forest and there isn't a woman around to hear him, is he still wrong?
Dear Herb: Well, there's no doubt this question came from a man. There's also no doubt that the answer is Of Course! There's no need for a woman to be present for a man to be wrong! Next question?
Sincerely, LFH ****** Miss Cellania over at Miss Cellania's Place always comes up with the technical stuff:
Dear LFH: What is the air speed velocity of an unladen swallow?
Dear Miss Cellania: Pretty much the same velocity as a laden sparrow. Unless of course, there's a jet engine in it's way. Then it pretty much just becomes a bunch of feathers. Which has a zero velocity.
Dear LFH: If you could take back 1 thing in your life that you've done, what would it be?
Dear "Name": Easy one! I would take back the trade I made last week on my fantasy football waivers. Stupid move! I traded my Kansas City Defense for St. Louis ... and what happens? Kansas City shuts out the 49ers, while St. Louis gets their butts kicked! It almost cost me the game but fortunately, my ...
Oh, did you want something serious? Wow! Um. Hmmmm. Well. Uh. Yeah. Lemme think. *sigh* Can I get back to you on this one?
I decided to steal this from Tammy since I'm tired of trying to think of something to write and I'm really tired of bitching about stuff (as I'm sure you are tired of hearing me try to think and bitch).
So, here's the deal ... Ask me a question. Any question. It can be personal, curiousity, something in general or even totally out there. Whatever you want to ask. And I'll try to answer it to the best of my ability.
Mark Foley claims he was molested as a teenager. So what does he do? He becomes a U.S. representative and sends "lurid" emails to young boys, supposedly while he was drinking.
Charles Carl Roberts was despondent over the death of his premature baby nine years ago. So what does he do? He walks into a school room and executes five young girls and then kills himself.
Now, I'm sorry people, but I don't care what trauma you've been through in your life. You still make your own choices. And blaming something from your past does not justify this type of behavior.
Jesus H. Christ! If every person who had a traumatic childhood went out and killed someone or became a child predator or a child molester or mother killer or father raper, can you imagine what would happen to our society?
By that justification alone, I should be able to rob banks, kick dogs and little children, run over pedestrians who take too long to cross the street, shoot my next door neighbor and expect to be forgiven by all ... because I didn't have a wonderful childhood.
I just have no patience or understanding of this way of thinking. Nor do I feel sorry for those who claim they are oppressed, they have no chance, they are forced into a life of crime and violence. Get real!
How much more do you want? Nothing in this life is going to be handed to you, no matter what you think your deserve. You're given many more opportunities than the average American female. It's all in what youdo with those opportunities. Look around. Others have made it. Get off your lazy butt and do something for yourself!
Debbie introduced us after Art class, during the morning break. We were on our way to Sambo's for coffee.
I remember the two little old women sitting in their car at the stop sign, staring at these three delinquent teenage girls dressed in ragged blue jeans and tank tops, long straight hair and bare feet.
You looked at me. I looked at you. Our thoughts merged. We hugged, grabbed each others hand and skipped across the road in front of them. They just stared, their mouths dropping open at such blatant behavior. We smiled and blew them kisses.
I remember talking for hours. Sitting in Sambo's day in and day out, during every break and lunch hour. Just drinking coffee and talking.
I remember the night I met you and Allan under the bridge and you took me home with you. You took me into the house, sat me down in front of Natalie and said "Can we keep her?"
She said yes.
I remember the weekend we spent laying on our stomachs on a raft in the middle of a lake in a place called Sweetsmill.
It was a nude weekend, with people of all ages. We were young and embarrassed and afraid to roll over. We sunburned our butts and the ride home was extremely uncomfortable.
I remember the nights spent sitting outside the club, leaning against the wall and listening to the band inside. Our guys were playing. Kirk and Leland and Donny.
We were so young. So much in love. Me with Kirk. You with Leland.
I remember the night we got busted. I had that tiny apartment and when the door came down, it almost hit the opposite wall.
You were still a minor and Natalie took you home. You all went camping the next day, fully expecting me to be released. But I was considered an adult and it was my apartment, even if it wasn't my dope.
I remember how bad you felt when you found out I had spent the week in jail.
I remember you cried when I moved to Texas and got married.
I remember you cried when I got a divorce and moved back.
I remember the night we dressed to the nines and went out to see our new guys playing in the band. It was right before you left for Alaska.
I remember when you left. You and Ron, so brave and daring, driving that little VW bug all the way from California to Anchorage.
I remember when you married Bobby and Natalie and I flew to Anchorage. You were such a beautiful bride. You were so happy.
I remember the phone calls when you and Bobby started having problems. You went through rehab and cleaned up but the marriage was over.
We both cried.
I remember when you met Tom and moved to the Island, starting over with your own business.
I remember the first time I saw the Saturn commercial on TV and realized it was you, looking into the camera from that little island in Alaska.
I remember when you and Tom came to California and we all met in Carmel for Thanksgiving. You seemed happy but you were also so very troubled.
You were on a slow, downward spiral and you didn't know it. None of us did.
I remember the breakup with Tom and the union with Robin. You seemed happier but the spiral continued.
I remember when you decided to go back to school. I surprised you by showing up at your graduation and it was the beginning of my renewed relationship with Natalie. I had quit drinking. You hadn't.
I remember more phone calls when you were drinking and all you wanted to do was re-live the past. All I wanted to do was let it go.
I remember the last time I saw you, as you were leaving for the airport the day after Natalie's memorial service. I wish I had said more then. I wish I had told you that the person I held hands with thirty some years ago was still in there somewhere.
I wish I could save you. I can't. I can't even recognize the person you are now. I wish I could find the person you used to be.
I have a friend. A stupid friend. I realize that probably isn't a nice thing to say but even she realizes it so I figure it's fair game.
This friend is in a situation that she's trying to figure out whether to stay in as it is, take her chances at a confrontation or just say screw it and get the hell out.
She thought about writing to one of those "Dear Abby" advice columns (much like Abby considered the medical column in her local newspaper), but when I suggested throwing the situation into the blog-basket and see what kind of advice the real world has to offer, she decided to give it a shot.
So ... here's the situation:
She has been in a relationship for about three years; she moved in with her "love" about a year and a half ago; They moved to another state about six months ago and bought a house. The thing is, her name is not on the house (there were a couple of reasons for this at the time, but we won't go into that). Over the past several months, there have been a couple of conversations in which her "love" insinuated that putting her name on the house was something they needed to do, especially if something happened to him.
Now because of the financial situation ... he makes an excellent salary, has several investment accounts, IRA, CDs, etc., ... she doesn't have to work, not does he want her to work. She is basically a "kept" woman. She lives in a nice house (which she decorated and she takes care of), she can buy just about anything she wants or needs with no questions asked (well, there are some limitations ... a new car might be pushing it), she pretty much wants for nothing. Something women around the world would give their eye teeth for.
Except ... everything he has, all of those investments, including the newest life insurance policy and 401K through his new employer, have his (grown) children as beneficiaries. And she knew that going in to the situation. What bothers her is that he recently changed an attachment to his will in which he specifically listed the house they now share as being a part of his assets that are to go to the kids. Not to her.
The thing is, she's afraid to confront him because what if he says something like "You don't like it? Leave" and she can't just say screw it and walk away because she has nothing to walk away with ... no job, no money, no place to go. Oh, there are places she could go but ... she really doesn't want to go.
My advice to her is to suck it up, get a job (whether he likes it or not), and get financially independent so that when she does confront him, she can leave if that's what happens.
I thought about writing something humorous and witty this morning, but I couldn't think of anything.
Then I thought I'd write something inspirational and uplifting, but again my little brain went blank.
I moved on to something intelligent and thought-provoking, but I had nothing.
I considered sharing one of my secret original recipes but my originality seems to have taken a vacation and I was pretty sure that most people out there are already familiar with Shake-n-Bake.
Then, I received an email from a long time friend ... an old boyfriend from high school who found me a few years ago on Classmates.com. We've kept in touch via email ever since.
The email was short, simply telling me that he wouldn't be around for a while and to do an internet search on his step-daughters name. He added a P.S.: "Don't ever pass up a chance to tell your daughter and grandkids you love them."
Just from the tone of the email, I knew this was not going to be good. And it wasn't.
Holly Jean Quick, sixteen years old, was raped and murdered in Sparks, Nevada.
You never know when it will be too late to say "I love you." Don't take the chance.
I'm sure you're all wondering how sister-friend Stephanie is doing in her cross-country drive. And I suppose if you aren't wondering, well, you may as well stop reading right now because that's exactly what this entry is about.
Before she left Maine, we had a little conversation in which I told her she was to check in with me every night once she reached her overnight-stay destination. Trust me, there was a reason for this ... Remember, we drove across country together in the opposite direction three years ago.
I know how she can get lost! Or sidetracked. And as much as I love her - bless her little pea-pickin' heart - she does have a habit of not exactly paying attention and has been know to fall off of ladders, step in holes, drill through her own thumbs ... you get the picture.
So to rest assured that she was in one piece and had arrived safely where she was supposed to arrive, I asked her to call me every night.
She left Maine on Friday and Friday evening when I hadn't heard from her, I naturally started calling. Fortunately, she did have her cell phone turned on and charged (yeah ... she has been known to forget those tiny details) and right on schedule, she was in New York state.
When I asked her why she hadn't called, her response was "Oh. Were you serious about that? I thought you were kidding." HA! Darn tootin' I was serious!
I guess I scared her because she has called every night now. So far, she's only managed to be almost run off the road once (by a hundred year old guy in Massachusetts ... go figure!); got lost once (okay, she said the directions were wrong); ended up being stranded at some motel in Indiana because the roads were flooded; and she has only lost one day on her schedule.
Once she reaches California, she's going to spend a week with her daughter and then head out here for a couple of weeks. After that, she'll be on her way back to the Maine wilderness.
So I figure I've got another two nights of tracking her before she hits the West Coast, then a week respite; then about four more nights of tracking and a two week respite while she's here; and then another four nights of tracking and she'll be back home.
I think I need to look into one of those thingamajigs the FBI uses to keep track of mobsters. Anybody know where I can find one?
Everyday household items have more uses than ever before. I'm sharing my list of common products that have a variety of uses so that not only will you never again be uninformed, you will never starve.Especially if you put all of this information to use … all you'll have to do is chew on an arm or something.
1. Hair Conditioners: Budweiser beer conditions the hair; Cool-Whip will condition your hair in minutes; Mayonnaise not only conditions, it also kills head lice! (And not only will your hair feel soft & shiny and lice-free, you'll be ready for the next potluck!)
2. Sticking bicycle chain and no grease handy?Try Pam no-stick cooking spray.You can also use it to remove paint and grease from your hands. And when you're done cleaning those hands, you can forget the manicurist! Pam cooking spray will also dry finger nail polish! (It also makes it easier to explain why you keep a can of it in the bathroom!)
3. Want a quick facial? Try Elmer's Glue! Paint on your face, allow it to dry, peel off and see the dead skin and blackheads disappear! (Of course you can't move your eyebrows, but hey … there's no more dead skin!)
4. Want Shiny Hair? Use brewed Lipton Tea (Makes you wonder what happens if you use another brand, huh?)
5. Too much time in the sun? Empty a large size Nestea into your bath water to cool down (And what if I want to use Lipton?)
6. Minor burn? Put a dab of Colgate or Crest toothpaste on the burn; Goggles and glasses keep fogging up? Coat with Colgate toothpaste; Crayon on the wall? Slather it with Colgate toothpaste and brush it! Stains on clothes? Rub in a little Colgate! (I'm still stuck on those goggles … wouldn't that make it a little difficult to see? Sure, they won't fog up but …)
7. Burn your tongue? Put sugar on it! (Wonder if this works if you burned it on hot sugar to begin with?)
8. Arthritis a problem? Spray the area with WD-40 and rub in; it takes the sting out of insect stings, too. (Except bee stings apparently)
9. Bee stings? Use meat tenderizer (Why? Does it make it easier for the bee?)
10. Chigger bite? Slap a dab of Preparation H on the spot; Puffy eyes? Pat a dab of Preparation H on those puffy spots (Somehow, putting something on my face that I just used on my butt doesn't seem right to me. For some reason)
11. Paper cut? Close it up with Crazy Glue or Chap Stick (Don't use the glue if the paper cut in on your lips, though)
12. Stinky feet? Jell-o! (Powdered or prepared? You can try it either way, I guess. I'd wait for it to dry before putting on shoes, though!)
13. Fungus on toenails or fingernails? Vicks vapor rub (Yeah, that wouldn't draw attention to a fungus, would it?)
14. Dirty dishwasher pipes? Add Kool-Aid to the detergent section and run a cycle; It will also clean a toilet; and for fun with Kool-Aid, add it to Dannon plain yogurt as a finger paint … your kids will love it and it won't hurt them if they eat it! Or Tie Dye a T-shirt by mixing a solution of Kool-Aid in a container, tie a rubber band around a section of the T-shirt and soak. (That's kinda scary … we drink this stuff! Wonder if it works with Yoplait?)
15. Scratches on your CD collection? Try Peanut butter(I'd suggest the creamy kind). Wipe off with a coffee filter paper; it will also remove ink from the face of dolls (Only the face? What if I wrote all over the body?); to remove labels off glassware, rub with Peanut butter (And all this time I've been using Goo-Be-Gone!)
16. Heavy dandruff? Pour on the vinegar! (Oh, sure … nobody will notice the dandruff but I can guarantee its still not gonna help you get a date!)
17. Body paint a "must-have" in your home? Make your own with Crisco mixed with food coloring. Heat the Crisco in the microwave, pour into an empty film container and mix with the food color of your choice! (I would suggest waiting for it to cool a bit before applying … hot grease on the wrong parts of the body can be very ugly!)
18. Want to preserve a newspaper clipping? Mix l large bottle of club soda and one cup of Milk of Magnesia, soak for 20 minutes and let dry. It will last for many years! (Wait … doesn't newsprint smear when it gets wet? Makes ya wonder what that stuff preserves in your body, doesn't it?)
19. A Slinky will hold toast and CD's! (HA! Not any of the Slinkies I've ever played with! Have you ever seen how those things get twisted around?)
20. Wine stains? Pour on the Morton salt and watch it absorb into the salt (What if I don't have Morton? Does it have to be iodized? Can't I just suck up those wine stains like I usually do?)
I remember her as a tiny, shy, stubborn, six year old with long blond Goldilocks curls. She came to live with us at about the same time the "father" of the house began his sexual molestation era.
I remember that I had very little patience with a six year old following me around, constantly asking questions, roller skating behind me as I rode my bike up and down the street wanting only to escape into that crystal blue sky.
I remember the day she was was singing her little heart out as she followed me and the neighbor's big, white German Shepard running out to the sidewalk to greet us as he always did.
I remember being so angry because she would not leave me alone and wishing that the dog would bite her.
I remember her scream. I remember turning around and seeing her pinned under the dog. I remember the dog's jaws clamped on the back of her head. I remember the doctor. I remember the fear I felt because I had made this happen. I remember swearing to myself that I would never wish harm to another human being.
I remember praying when I left that home that the same fate I had suffered at the hands of our "father" did not fall to her. I remember hoping that she grew up to be a happy, healthy, beautiful person.
I will never know.
Marchelle died of leukemia shortly before her sixteenth birthday.
***********
In Marchelle's memory, and for every child with any form of childhood cancer, please support the fundraiser being held today, September 25th, at every Chili's restaurant across the country.
Today, Chili's will donate 100% of it's profits to St. Jude Children's Research Hospital. In addition, you can visit www.createapepper.com to purchase "Create a Pepper" T-shirts, which can be customized with permanent marker, or purchase a "Create a Pepper" gift card.
Their goal is $3 million. A twenty dollar meal is but a drop in the bucket.
