I am the Frito Paw Smelling Bandit

Okay. I need all of my readers who own a dog or know somebody who owns a dog to help me out. Listen up. I need you to sniff your dog's feet. His/her pads to be exact. Am I crazy? Well, yes, that's a given, but that has nothing to do with this request. You see, dog's feet smell exactly like Fritos Corn Chips.



You may think I am kidding, but I am not. My twin sister, whom you met in Meet My F***ing Twin Sister first gave me a heads up on this phenomenon. So when I was at my daughter's house, I smelled her two dog's, Venus and Atlas. Yep. Fritos Corn Chips.




So, last Friday night, a group of us are gathered together for a nightcap after going out to dinner. I decided to share this little tidbit with everyone. Well, after everyone finished laughing their butts off, my friend, Rachel, lifted up her little dachshund, Petey, and all of us women sniffed his paws. Some agreed that they smelled like Fritos. Others agreed that they definitely had a smell, but they didn't know what Fritos smelled like.

We were going to get together on Sunday for another Happy Hour. Yeah. I know. It seems that all we do around here is drink. It's true I guess. Well, Carl was going to serve authentic Mexican tamales that were made in corn husks. It was a perfect opportunity for me to bring a chili dip and Fritos corn chips so we could have a sniff off. I wanted to blind fold every one, have them sniff a dog's paw, then a Frito, and decide which one was which. I really thought they'd all be game for this.

Here is the group of the usual suspects.









They must not have drank enough, because they did not want to cooperate and sniff the dog's paws. The owner's didn't have any problems, of course. And look at how cute the puppies were for Pete's sake! How could you not want to sniff these cuties?

This is Pedro. He's a rat terrier. His Mommy is Sandy.



This little one is named Pinky. She is a Chihuahua/Miniature Pincher. She was adopted from a shelter by her Mommy Carol.



Surprisingly, Pedro and Pinky did NOT smell like Fritos. I have no idea why not. Their paws smelled like, well, feet. Imagine that. Here's a photo of brave little ole me sniffing Pinky's paws.



SOOOO, I'm not confessing to a new fetish here, folks. Just trying to take a survey. Smell your dog's paws. Tell me - yeah or nay - Fritos?

So far, my sister's dog, my daughter's two dogs, and Petey are yeses - that makes 4, and Pedro and Pinky are no. So it's 4-2 for Fritos. Let's hear from you!

Why don't they sell fleas at flea markets and why don't people swap anything at swap meets?

If you ever come to the Phoenix area, and you like flea markets/swap meets, then the Mesa Market Place Swap Meet is for you!



It is located on the outskirts of the city of Mesa, with the Superstition Mountains looming in the background.



There is plenty of parking on three sides of the buildings.




The swap meet is huge with 1,600 vending booths that cover 1 1/4 miles of shopping lanes. They sell everything imaginable from jewelry to toys to furniture to shoes to socks to hats.

This is at the start in Aisle A. There are four aisles to walk down. I'm usually tired after only two, just to give you an idea of how big this market is!



Maybe you'd like one of these nice ceramic pots:



Or who could live without a cow's skull? Or perhaps a nice cactus?



If you should get hungry while shopping, they have several food areas to grab a hamburger, hot dog, or the like.



In Aisle B you can sit down and eat AND listen to entertainment.



On this particular day, The Needham Twins were performing. They are a real popular group in the area. They sing songs from the 50's to the 70's. They have performed at our park several times.




The Snow Birds are a major part of the shopping business and the vendors are always happy to welcome us back into the area.



Here are some of the Red Dirt products. Their gimmick is that they are dyed from the red dirt of Arizona. Click here to read more about them and see more of their products.




Here are some beautiful ceramic animals. The rooster is cute. I could see all of these guys in front of my trailer. But I think they'd be hard to travel around with, don't you?

Weekend Reflections #12

This week's reflection is a photo of the sunset through my car's side mirror. You can see the contrails from the planes high in the sky.






To see more reflection photos, visit James at Newton Area Photo.

You are as old as you feel!

This is Bernice. You met her in a previous post. She turned 95 last June. Bernice is still very active in this retirement community. She bowls once a week on the bowling league and attends all the dances.





Whenever the band plays a polka, Bernice will get up and do a sort of line dance with another couple.



Her dance card is never empty, as many of the gentlemen in the park ask her to dance the slow dances. She has been overheard remarking, "They keep asking me to dance the slow ones, but I'd love to dance a fast one now and then!"




I've never been to Bernice's place here in the park; I've always just walked or ridden by on my bike and waved "hi". Well this time I paid her a visit to drop off copies of the photos that I took of her in the Christmas parade. We had such a wonderful visit! What a joy it was to sit and listen to her talk about her life.

Bernice grew up in the State of Montana, and went off to North Central College in Naperville, IL during the 1920's. That's quite a hike, especially back then. Tuition was $90 a semester. She signed a note promising to pay back the money. Before she went off to college, and during the summer months, Bernice worked for a woman who owned a sheep farm. She would lace vests together that were made from sheep skin and other suede clothing. As a send off gift for college, this woman gave Bernice a suede vest and a dress that had fringe along the bottom of the hem. She wore these items at college, which earned her the name of "Pocahontas". Later the nickname was shortened to "Pokey".

Bernice graduated with a B.A. and wanted to be a teacher. But there were no teaching jobs to be found during the Depression. So she settled for a nursemaid job looking after two young girls and an infant boy for a couple of years. At least it was a job, paid room and board, and a small paycheck, so she was able to put some money towards her tuition loan.

After two years of looking after children, she found a teaching job in the small country town of Monroe Center, just outside of Rockford, IL. There she taught a combined class of 45 students. She shared a couple of funny stories with me about the kids.

One little girl in her class had a sister who had given birth at home. The next day the little girl came to school and told all the other kids how her sister had a baby and where it came from. A little boy came up to Bernice and said, "Miss _____, Mary said her sister had a baby and it came right out of her. Did it?"

Well, Bernice was a little startled. You have to remember, this was a LONG time ago, and topics like this just weren't spoken about - especially in a first grade class. Bernice said that she stuttered a little bit and then said, "Well, you should talk to your mother about that!"

Back in the good old days, you could hug a child (now you are not allowed to touch a child), and you could spank a child (I'm not condoning this but there sure was better discipline in the classrooms!) There was a little boy named Bill who was always talking and causing trouble in Bernice's class. She'd have to reprimand him several times. Finally she said to him, "Bill, I warned you several times that if you don't behave, I'm going to send you down to the principal's office. How many times does Mr. Marriott have to spank you?"

"Probably a couple of times will help!" Bill said.

So off Bill went to Mr. Marriott's office for his paddling. A little while later, Mr. Marriott escorted a hopefully more disciplined Bill back to the classroom. Bernice noticed that the principal could hardly conceal the smirk on his face. Later he filled Bernice in on what had happened in the office.

Bill had entered Mr. Marriott's office and handed him the note that Bernice had wrote, explaining why he had been sent to the principal's office.

Mr. Marriott had Bill sit down and lectured him about good behavior. Then he told him it was time for the spanking. Mr. Marriott took out the ping-pong paddle and had Bill bend over his desk. Just when his arm was raised up and he was ready to spank, Bill yelled out, "Ready! Aim! Fire!"

Mr. Marriott said that it took all he had not to burst out laughing!

Bernice said that Bill behaved for a couple of days before he needed a good spanking again!

Over the course of the last 25-30 years, Bernice has made these beautiful crafts called jeweled trees. They are all made out of costume jelwery which she then removes the backings from and collects them in a box. The shape of the tree is cut out in a lightweight wood such as plywood and then glued to a velvet fabric. Then she starts arranging the jewelry around to fit on the piece of wood. She covers the wood pretty thick. Because the piece is raised up on wood, she decorates the edges with a beaded necklace. There is a lot of intricate work involved, but it is worth it.







Here is a close up of one so you can get a better idea of the beautiful image. All the jeweled tree images were taken with my camera phone so they aren't that great!



All in all, it was a great visit. I learned so much about Bernice in that short hour visit. I promised that I would come back to see her again. And I tell you what....I am really looking forward to it and am anxiously awaiting to hear more of her stories!

Watery Wednesday

Last Fall, the Desert Botanical Garden in Phoenix, AZ featured glass work from the famous artist Dale Chihuly. It was a spectacular sight, especially to see the large pieces of glass in the dirt and sand, surrounded by tall saguaro cactus and many other kinds of cacti.

This particular exhibit featured large pieces of glass floating in the water. It is called, "Blue Polyvitro Crystals". Here is a close up of the exhibit.




Here's a shot of it a little farther out.



And finally, the whole thing.



This is a traveling exhibit, and if it ever comes to your area, I highly recommend you to go see it. You will not be disappointed.

For more Watery Wednesday photos, click here.

Christmas Comes to Val Vista Village

Friday was our annual Christmas parade here at Val Vista Village. The cool weather got us all in the Christmas spirit - it was in the low 50's to upper 40's. Hey - that's cold for Arizona!

We lined up down Park Ave in anticipation of the parade. Anyone could be in the parade. If you decorated your golf cart, for instance.




Or perhaps your bike......




Maybe you had a motorcycle built for two:



Let's zoom in on his passenger; he looks a little like a hairy elf!



We were entertained by music from the Kitchen Band, a group of people who play objects found in the kitchen, sprinkled among some real instruments. They blow on funnels, bang pots, spoons, etc.




A group of line dancers performed to a Christmas song. They all appear to be in step!



That's Margaret, in the center of the front row. She's the line dance teacher. Free line dancing every Thursday night here in the park.

We had some kayakers who were "high and dry"! I would say this was the most original entry in the parade!



This Motorcycle Mama is Bernice, who turned 95 years old last June. She is a real sweetheart.



Here's who we all were waiting for! Santa Claus!




When the parade was over, we all gathered inside for a sit down dinner of chili in a bread bowl, bread pudding, and vegetables/dip. Here our food servers are just waiting to be of service.



Bernice walked around to each table, beaming from ear to ear, showing everyone her sash and tiara. She was "Miss Val Vista" and proud of it!



Our entertainment of the evening were some children from the Sunshine Acres Children's Home from Mesa, Arizona. "Sunshine Acres generally admits children from families who are experiencing:

- Homelessness
- Chronic or terminal health concerns
- Incarceration
- Drug or Alcohol challenges or rehabilitation
- Difficulties meeting the needs of their adoptive child
- Challenges with a kins(hip placement (children currently living with a relative other than birth parents)

Sunshine Acres is a long term residential home. Initial placement is a minimum of 12 months. Once admitted, a child may stay as long as needed, even into early adulthood (college)."



The kids sang and danced. Their last song was "Silent Night", which they sang a cappella. After a few verses, their choir director motioned with her hands for the audience to join in with the kids. There was probably 200 people in the audience. Everyone joined in singing. It was an emotional moment. Then the minister of Sunshine Acres said a few words and said that some of the kids wanted to say some things.

One girl came up to the mike and said, "I just want to say that Sunshine Acres is the greatest! Every day I wake up and I am so happy I am there!" My eyes filled up with tears, and I looked around me and saw many others with wet eyes, too. I wondered what this little girl's home life was like if she loved the orphanage so much. It sure gave me pause. That little boy in the picture is only five. How sad to be so little and have your life already so hard. But Sunshine Acres sounds like a great place. You can read more about it here.


Santa came up on stage and distributed gifts to any kids who sat on his lap. It was a wonderful evening. Afterwards we walked over to a friend's place and had a nightcap of rum/eggnog. A good time was had by all.

Building Reflections (Weekend Reflections #11)

This is the first time I'm jumping in on this meme. It's called Weekend Reflections and it's sponsored by James at Newtown Area Photo. The idea is to submit a photo that shows any kind of reflection.

My photo is of a building reflected into another building in Dallas, TX. Where does one building end and another start?




Click on the link above to see more reflections!

American/Canadian Dictionary Part Deux

It's already happened twice and we've only been down here in Mesa for about five weeks. What the heck am I talking about? The differences between Americans and Canadians. We look alike, we walk alike, but we sure don't talk alike! You may want to refresh your memory by rereading my post here. In a nutshell, most of the people we hang around with here in the park are from Canada. Every year I learn a new word or two from our neighbors north of us.

Recently a friend of mine from back in Illinois called and asked me to try and find a toy called a "Zhu Zhu Pet". It seems that they are the latest craze, and are of course, all sold out everywhere. They are on all the kids' wish lists, my friend's granddaughter's included. I told her that I'd look for the item down here. My Canadian friend, Lenore, mentioned to me that she was going to Walmart, so I relayed the information about the toy. I spelled it out for her. We continued talking; then upon departing Lenore said, "Okay, so it's spelled 'Zed-h-u Zed-h-u'".

I looked at her totally baffled and said, "HUH?"

Lenore laughed and replied, "Oh, that's right! YOU say 'ZEE' and WE say 'ZED'".

I see. But they don't say "ZEDBRA". They say "ZEBRA". Go figure. Anyway, I guess there are two schools of thought on how to teach the kids in school to say their abc's. Some schools say the letter "zee"; others say "zed". Now you know.




Not only have there been word differences between the two countries; but also food. For instance, chili. A group of us women were talking one day and one asked me, "What do you eat with your chili?"

"What do you mean? We eat ours in a bowl."

She replied. "We serve our chili over rice."

What? Why? I did ask other Canadians, and that seemed to be more of a Western Canadian tradition. As far as I know, Americans eat their chili in a bowl,


photo courtesy of food porn



unless they're spreading it over a hot dog or something!


photo courtesy of keithaque


So last night we were invited over to Pat and Bob's place. Pat told me earlier that she had made turkey soup and "matrimonial cake" for dessert.

All of us Americans drew a blank.

"You don't know what matrimonial cake is?" Pat asked increduously.

"No," I admitted.

Pat turned to Vivian and said to her, "THEY don't know what matrimonial cake is!"

"Well, what IS it?" Norma asked.

Pat described the ingredients, which included dates, oats, and flour.

"Oh," Norma said. "Date bars."

"No. It's a cake."

Whatever. It's made in a pan, you cut it into squares, or bars. Call it what you want. It's very popular in Canada.

MATRIMONIAL CAKE
Printed from COOKS.COM

1 1/4 c. rolled oats
1 3/4 c. flour
1 1/2 c. brown sugar
1 c. butter
1 tsp. soda
Grated rind of 1 lemon

Mix ingredients as for pie. Put half of mixture in the bottom of a 9 x 9 inch baking pan. Spread with date filling. Put remaining crumb mixture over date filling, pressing it down lightly.

DATE FILLING:

1 1/2 c. dates, chopped fine
1/4 c. brown sugar
Juice of 1 lemon
Enough water to cover dates

Bring to boil; simmer until thick and of spreading consistency. Cool before spreading on cake. Bake at 350 degrees for 30 minutes.

While looking up recipes for matrimonial cake, I stumbled across this site. It's called Canadian Cuisine. It has everything you've ever wanted to know about Canadian food. So whenever one of my friends mentions something I never heard of, I now have a source I can turn to! But I don't care what they say. I am NOT going to eat Poutine: fries, curds and gravy.




And last, but certainly not least, who wouldn't want to munch on some pets de soeurs? The name literally translated means nuns' farts . They are also called Old Women Bellybuttons. It is pastry dough wrapped around a brown sugar and cream filling.

Pets De Soeurs

Dough

3c Flour
2tb Baking powder
1ts -Salt
1ts Sugar
0.5c Lard
½ to ¾ cups Milk

Filling

2tb Butter; softened
1c Brown sugar
1ts Cinnamon
1c –Water

Sift the dry ingredients together. Blend in the lard to form a coarse mixture. Gradually add the milk until a soft dough is formed. Roll the dough until it is fairly thin, although it should be thicker than a regular pie crust. Butter the dough with soft butter, cover with 1/4 inch of brown sugar and sprinkle with cinnamon. Roll the dough up like a jelly roll and slice into circles about 1/2 inch thick. Pour water into a casserole dish. Put the sliced dough into the casserole and bake at 375F for about 30 minutes or until the pets de soeur are golden brown.




I need to rest now. All this CSL (Canadian as a Second Language) is giving me a headache. I'm going to dream about matrimonial cakes, nuns farts, and old women's bellybuttons. Good night and God Bless.

Meet my Twin F***ing Sister

Pat (left), Pam (right), 6 years old, 1961

This is the story of adorable little twin girls, born many moons ago, on October 11th. One was named Patricia Ann (moi), and one was named Pamela Jean. In fact, we were born on our brother, Bob's birthday. He's been mad at us every since. He was only 2 years old at the time. Imagine how he felt receiving a baby sister as a birthday gift? Scratch that. TWO baby sisters? And you know how the new baby gets all that attention. Could you imagine the attention that twins drew? Especially over 50 years ago? My, my, we were almost like a circus attraction.

I don't have our baby picture to show you. It is packed away. But I must have always been the one on the left (as you look at the photo). In the baby picture, I am grinning like an idiot, and Pam's eyes are as wide as saucers. As my mother described it, we were both crying and the photographer started making goofy faces. I adored him, being that he was a man, and Pam had the expression on her face as if to say, "WTF?" Nothing has changed folks, nothing has changed.

By the time Pam and I were born, my mom had had 4 live births. Ann 12, Mickey, 8, Linda, 3 1/2, and Bobby 2. When my mother was pregnant with us, she knew she was having twins. She was experienced enough! She told the doctor that she was carrying twins. She said that she felt two heads (oh no - a monster!), two butts (whew!), and many limbs. The doctor only heard one strong heart beat. There was only one conclusion - my mother was wrong, and we were one big, healthy boy. You see, our heartbeats were synchronized. But to satisfy my mother, the doctor ordered x-rays. Yes, you read that right. They didn't have ultra-sounds back in the day. So now you know why I am a little lu-lu. Because my parents didn't have a phone, my Dad had to walk to the corner drugstore to call the doctor and get the results. Bingo! Two babies in dat der womb!

I came out head first, weighing in at a little over 6 pounds. Pam was breech, but luckily I opened up the way for her, so there wasn't any complications. The way I look at it, she owes me big time. But as you read on, you'll see that she's been saving my lily white ass all my life.

Pam weighed a little over 5 pounds, but lost a few ounces to drop her under the hospital's regulation weight for bringing a baby home. So Pam had to stay in the hospital for a few days in the incubator (like a baby chick) till she gained the weight. Mom brought me home alone. It was a hard day for her.

For awhile my sister and I slept in the same crib, and drew comfort from each other. As we grew, my mother had to get another crib. My mom told me that I usually did things first, like crawling and walking. Pam would watch me, and then within a few days she would follow suit. Feeding times were interesting. We'd both cry, but Mom would feed Pam first because, according to Mom, I would wait patiently. This truly fits our personality. Pam is full of piss and vinegar. I'm more complacent.

Mom said that Pam and I had our own language. We'd talk amongst ourselves and nobody else could understand us.

Pam was always skinny growing up and I was always regular. I would absolutely HATE when people would say to me, "Are you eating your sister's food?" I never had a weight problem growing up. In fact, I had a pretty good shape.



Pat (left), Pam (right), 5 years old, 1960


Although Pam was small in size, she was a tiger. I remember one time, maybe we were in 6th grade, we went to a nearby park. A heavy set girl wanted to beat the crap out of me because her boyfriend had whistled at me when I had walked down the block. Now, I had not flaunted anything, believe me. I was wearing a red/white checkered button down shirt and white shorts. Why do I remember what I was wearing? Because the bully girl made fun of my shirt! I was pretty scared because I was, and still am, a wuss. But there was my skinny twin sister, who jumped off the swing, and was in the fat girl's face yelling at her and telling her to leave me alone! I was in awe! I guess half the battle is not showing you are scared! The girl left the park, and we went home. I didn't leave the house for two weeks because I feared she'd find me and beat me up if Pam wasn't around to protect me!

FAST FORWARD ABOUT 15 YEARS

Pam and I were out and about and she needed cigarettes. She told me to pull into the nearby gas station. I was driving a sporty Camero, and it was a beautiful summer day. We had the windows rolled all the way down. Pam ran in, bought her cigarettes, and jumped back into the car. I pulled to the edge of the driveway and looked both ways on the busy street. I saw a car coming on my left in the distance, but I figured that if I pulled out slow, and stayed in my lane, that it would be okay. So that's what I did. Well, I must have scared the bejesus out of the older gentleman who was driving in the left lane. He swerved his car way over into the other lane. It TOTALLY wasn't necessary, but hey, what can I say? The old guy started swearing at me, calling me every name in the book.

I said, "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"

Here's my twin sister: "FUCK YOU! She stayed in her lane! FUCK YOU!"

And there, my friends, is the difference between my twin and me!

BUT, she had my back, didn't she?

A FEW YEARS LATER

My first marriage ended messily with husband cheating on me with whore young chicky babe. My twin went to said whore's house, to confront her, and possible beat some sense into her, if needed. (Although at that time my sister probably really felt that I was the one that needed the sense beaten into me for considering WANTING my cheating husband back!)Luckily for young chicky babe - she wasn't home. Either that or she was hiding behind the curtain shaking like a leaf, refusing to answer the door. Smart cookie. A slut, but smart.

PRESENT DAY

Pam's tamed down quite a bit. I mean, she hasn't beaten anybody up or anything. Her words are pretty powerful, and you wouldn't want to get on her bad side. But she is loyal till the end, love's her family, and will defend them ferociosly. And I should know. She's had my back since we were in the womb together.


Another quirk of hers is her tendency to put the "f" word inbetween words or syllables like "Happy F***ing Birthday", or La-dee-F**ing-dah, or absof**ckingtootly. You get the idea. She just cracks me up.

Pam has a heart of gold and has been known to give her last couple of bucks in her pocket to beggars on the street. The rest of us in the family will say, "Pam - you don't have any money for the rest of the week! Why did you give it away?" and she'd reply, "Oh - they looked like they needed it more than me."

One time while pulling up to the drive through window at KFC, a homeless person came up to her car window and asked if she'd buy him something to eat. She thought, "Oh, what the heck!" and ordered him some food. How many of us would do that?

So without further ado, here's my twin f**ing sister! Mwaah! Love you Pami!





We switched it up a bit. Pam's on the left, Pat's on the right, 54 years old, 2009

Traditions

photo courtesy of Food Network

Happy Thanksgiving to one an all! It's a wonderful time to gather with family and friends, eat good food, and be thankful for everything we have surrounding us.

I was feeling a little melancholy last night as I stirred my 5 minute fudge. It has been our family tradition for as long as I can remember - that I bring the fudge. I always made two batches - one with nuts - and one plain. The trick is to actually cook it less than 5 minutes. Somewhere between 4 minutes and 4 1/2 minutes. Then the fudge comes out smooth and you can just pour it into a pan. Other times it comes out thick and you have to scoop it into the pan. In either case, it still tastes delicious. I don't know where this recipe originated from, but I know we've been making it in our family for years and years. One year I brought it up to Minnesota with us for the holidays. I told my sister-in-law about the fudge. She said, "Get real, Pat! It's on the back of the Marshmallow Fluff jar!" I was heart broken! But then I compared the recipes and I saw that there were slight variations so I didn't feel so bad.

So I made the fudge, because it is tradition, but I won't be spending the holiday with my family. Usually Jim and I are on the road for Thanksgiving, making our way down to AZ for the winter. So it would be just the two of us for the holiday. I'd cook a couple of Cornish hens for dinner, or roast a chicken. But this year we came to AZ early, and there is a large group of us (almost 30) celebrating the holiday together. They aren't my family by blood, but they are a good group of friends and that's the next best thing.

Another tradition we had at home was S-O-S cookies. That's what we called them. My mom made them in shapes of S's and O's. They are an Italian cookie with icing on them. Out of us six kids, three liked the O's, and three liked the S's. Then it was 4-2 in favor of the O's. Why such a big deal when they are the same cookie? The secret is in the center of the "O" - it's nice and soft because it doesn't get exposed to the heat like all the sides of the "S's". The year before my mother died, my sister's and I gathered at my other sister's house. I call her Linda Martha Stewart. She knows everything from cooking to fixing things - and she can do it all. Anyway, we were all going to make the SOS cookies. My mom was rolling the dough flipping the O's into the air and putting them on the cookie sheet like an expert. My twin sister and I felt like we were in kindergarten. Our O's were large and misshapen. It took us so long to fill one cookie sheet TOGETHER; meanwhile my mom was starting her second sheet in no time! We had such a great time, and made over 200 cookies! Although Mom is gone, Linda carries on the tradition and makes the SOS cookies, albeit only the O's, for Thanksgiving and Christmas.

This traveling life that Jim and I are living is great, but there are some things that are sorely missed. I don't have any Christmas decorations with us because a) there is absolutely NO room to store them and b) we always fly home for Christmas. But I miss my Christmas decorations. Does that sound crazy? I have wooden mittens and a Santa sleigh that my Dad made for me (he died in 1995). Dad also cut out little pieces of wood and wrapped each piece up with Christmas wrap so they look like little presents and filled the sleigh. He did this for all six kids. Yeah. He loved Christmas. Every year he took a picture of his Christmas tree and nativity set. Every year it looked the same (the tree was artificial), but he did it just the same.

I bought ornaments for my kids each year that would represent something of that year, like if they played a sport, or when my daughter was in girl scouts, etc. Each year when I decorated the tree, I'd bawl my eyes out when I'd hang the ornaments. "Oh look, baby's first Christmas!" Sob! When we decided to hit the road, I separated the ornaments - wrapped up all of my daughter's and put them in a box, then wrapped up all my son's and put his in a box. It broke my heart but I handed them over to each of them. I figured they should have them on THEIR tree now, instead of being in storage. Besides, they are all grown up. The first year my daughter got the ornaments, she called me up and said, "Okay, Mom, I'm hanging the "Baby's First Christmas" ornament right now," so I could cry!

During my first marriage we had a flood in our basement and it ruined a lot of our Christmas decorations. I had to throw so many of them out. My mom gave me some old ornaments that they had - they were those really large red glass balls, still in the original cardboard box, with a sticker on the side with the price of .19! Every year I'd hang these large balls on the tree with love, thinking in my head how my parents hung these on their first Christmas tree, had these in their first house, had these before they even had kids. For YEARS I played these images over in my mind. Then one year I mentioned to my mother, "So, Mom, remember those big, red, ball ornaments you gave to me when my basement flooded and I didn't have much money to buy anything new?"

She vaguely remembered.

"So, you had these in your first house? These were from your first Christmas tree?" I asked, all excited.

"Are you kidding? Those were from Aunt Sue! I HATED those things! I thought they were too gaudy. We never used them!"