Woke up to a thunderstorm!  Nothing like the sound of thunder, a comfy bed and a cool breeze to keep you in bed a little longer than usual.  Perfect morning!

Yesterday I went to the Oklahoma City Memorial Museum.  I had been to the memorial several times but had never gone to the museum.  It is very moving.  They did an excellent job in the design and they tell the story very well.  It was quite moving and very intense. 

Sad news in the neighborhood.  Another one of my long time neighbors (from the hood) has received the devistating diagnosis of stage 4 esophogial cancer.  I can't believe it!  My heart and prayers are with this family as they face the next few weeks of their time together.  We all have to make the most of the time we have in our own lives and especially with the ones we love.

My daughter just called and had just been to the doctor.  She is now able to walk with crutches and put 25% of her weight on her leg and she can now drive.  Hooray!  She was about to go stir crazy so this will get her going again.  I'm so glad this surgery is behind her she will be walking in about 3 weeks so her summer will be a lot better than she was anticipating.

I have taken 4 days off work and I'm going to enjoy every minute of it.  I'm doing a little gardening and just going to enjoy the outdoors.  Just 4 days with nothing scheduled.  How good is that?

Out Like A Light

I am just one member of a family full of fainters.  Everyone in my family (with the exception of me) has a problem staying conscious in hospitals. One sniff of the hospital air and out they go.  Unfortunately I have had more than my fair share of surgeries over the years and each of my family members has attempted to be my support team. 

When I gave birth to my twins it was my father who went down for the count.  One minute he was sitting in a chair, holding my hand,timing my contractions and the next he had slid out of the chair to the floor and was out cold.  Poor dad was trying to fill in for my husband who was in the service at the time but was quickly ushered from the room as soon as he woke up.

A few years later my oldest brother (an L.A. undercover police officer no less) tried to fill in as my support during my hysterectomy.  He did fine until the nurse came in to check my bandage and that is when my big brother fainted falling over the bed rail on top of me!  The nurse had him wheeled out on a gurney straight to the ER where they performed all sorts of tests and presented him with an $1,800.00 bill for services.


My daughter Jamie was the brave soul who accompanied through a hand surgery.  I was barely waking up in my room when I heard the nurse asking me, "Is that your daughter?" pointing to the unconscious figure who had just taken the Nestle Tea plunge into the hallway.  My surgery cost her $1,300.00 in ER fees.


The next one to go down was my other daughter.  This time Ron was with me as well as my daughter.  Again, things went well until I came out of surgery.  It was an outpatient eye surgery so I was sitting in a chair in the recovery room.  I had stitches around my eyes and as my daughter describes it blood tears running down my face.  I was unable to see but heard the commotion as Julie hit the floor.  Poor Ron was tending to me while trying to hold Julie up by the collar of her shirt.  He really had his hands full.


Thank goodness Ron came into my life.  He has helped me take every member of my family to the hospital ER for one thing or another.  He has been with me through two surgeries relieving the fainters from their duty.  And he has remained conscious through all of it!!!!!!

Two  90-year-old  women, Rose and  Barb had been   friends all of their  lives.  When  it was clear that Rose was dying, Barb visited  her every day.  One  day Barb said, 'Rose, we both loved  playing  women's softball all our lives, and we played  all through High School. Please  do me one favor:  when you get to Heaven, somehow you must let me  know if there's women's softball  there.'   Rose  looked up at Barb from her deathbed and said,  'Barb, you've been my best friend  for many  years. If it's at all possible, I'll do  this  favor for you.'   Shortly  after that, Rose passed  on.   A  few nights later, Barb was awakened  from a sound  sleep by a blinding flash  of white light and a  voice calling out to  her, 'Barb,  Barb.'   'Who  is it', asked Barb, sitting up  suddenly. 'Who is  it?'   'Barb  -- it's me, Rose.'   'You're  not Rose. Rose just  died.'   'I'm  telling you, it's me, Rose,' insisted  the  voice.   'Rose!  Where are you?'   'In  Heaven,' replied Rose. 'I have some  really good  news and a little bad  news.'   'Tell  me the good news first,' said  Barb.   'The  good news,' Rose said, 'is that there's  softball  in Heaven Better yet all of our old  buddies who  died before us are here, too.  Better than that,  we're all young again. Better still, it's always  springtime, and  it never rains or snows. And  best of all,  we can play softball all we want,  and we  never get  tired.'   'That's  fantastic,' said Barb. 'It's beyond  my wildest  dreams! So what's the bad  news?'   'You're  pitching Tuesday.'   Life  is uncertain - eat dessert  first.

I got this in an email from a friend who has been sending me emails about our horrible socialist president for quite awhile.  This was just another one.  I usually don't respond to these but I couldn't help but respond with the question "Is he selling books or saving America?"  Newt's no dummy......he's selling books, testing the water for the next presidential race and in his spare time, "Saving America"?   I've never seen anything like the fear and hatred that's being spit out toward this president.  It's amazing!

A Personal Message From Newt Gingrich
"Two Simple Steps to Help Save America."

Dear Friend,

America is facing a mortal threat from our president and his Secular-Socialist Machine—a corrupt bureaucracy, which is actively using manipulation, bribery, and dishonesty to demolish our core values and replace them with their own.

If left unchecked, their lethal combination of high tax, big bureaucracy, radically secular policies and machine-politics will radically transform our country into something we barely recognize.

That's why I wrote my new book *To Save America: Stopping Obama's Secular-Socialist Machine* , to explain precisely how we can dismantle this machine and replace it with policies and institutions that work. But I need your help.

So today I'm asking you to take two simple actions to help me save America:

*/First/*: Click below to watch my video about the threats we face.
*/Second/*: Send the video URL to your family and friends to spread the message.

Saving America is the greatest challenge we face today. Together, you and I can restore this great nation to our Founding Fathers vision. But we must act quickly, or our children will inherit a country transformed beyond recognition.

Sincerely,
/Newt Gingrich/

THOUGHT FOR THE DAY

Have you ever wondered if the one dollar bills
In your wallet were ever in a stripper's butt crack or a Chippendale's crotch?
If not, you're wondering now.   Have a nice day ..   

 So folks, always remember to wash your hands after handling money

 

That's my public service announcement for the day. Thank you very much!

Menopause Maude

When I got into my office this morning the light on my voice inbox was blinking.  I pushed the button and all the one million codes and finally heard the voice of my 84 year old neighbor "Florence Jean" from across the street.  Over and over she kept saying my name, "Dani, Dani, Dani, can you hear me? I know you are there honey cause I saw you come home."  OK, now I realize the call was from yesterday but I have no idea how she got hold of my direct number at work but she obviously thinks it is my home number and she's not giving up without a fight.  She went on until the voice mailbox was finally full...calling my name and basically telling me what a dirty scoundrel I am for not picking up the phone.  Oh my, I'll have to call her sometime today and tell her she called the wrong number and I wasn't ignoring her call.  

I remember the day I moved across the street from Mrs. P.  The minute we got out of the car we could hear her "very loud and very shrill" voice bellowing from her porch.  She was complaining about how a "bunch of kids" were moving in and how there was going to be wild parties and noise all the time.  We were off to a good start.  

The first thing we noticed about Mrs. P. was that we could hear her talking in her house from the confines of our living room with all the windows closed.  I also remember thinking she was "old" I mean "really old" but then I was only twenty so what did I know.

Now, do you remember Samantha's neighbor (In Bewitched), Gladys Kravitz?  Well, she lives across the street from me only she has an Okie twang and the loudest set of pipes in the world.  For the past 41 years she has kept track of my every move and I mean that literally.  She can see right into my living room from her porch.  If I open my front door she senses it and there she is on her porch checking to see what I'm up to.  Sometimes she reminds me of my dog Katie.  Katie always sensed when I was coming home and she was always in the window watching when I drove into my driveway.  SO DOES MRS. P.  It doesn't matter which direction I come from she just knows when I'm pulling into my driveway.  You have to avoid eye contact because once she engages you in conversation you are in it for the duration.   She doesn't know truth from fiction and it hasn't got anything to do with her age.  She's been that way for 41 years.  She once told me her son had been kidnapped by some mafia gang and she hadn't seen him or his family for 10 years.  (Uhhh, he was actually about 12 miles away and came over all the time to mow her yard)

During the first few years I lived across from Florence Jean she was married to her  second husband Raymond.  Now I guess Raymond used alcohol to anesthetize his brain in order to live with Mrs. P.  because that woman could nag the paint off a post.  One summer we could hear her harping on poor ole Raymond that she wanted her car painted.  She was relentless and every night it was the same drama.  That is until one night when Raymond came home "anesthetized" a little heavier than usual and armed with a large grocery sack.  Mrs. P. met him in the front yard just as Raymond whipped out about 6 cans of dark green spray paint and went to town painting Mrs. P's car.  There he was painting the windshield, tires, and everything else on that car while Florence Jean ran around the yard screaming.  Hearing the commotion all the neighbors grabbed their lawn chairs and settled down in the Farckle's yard to watch.

About the time she was going through menopause  she decided to paint her house and painted it the brightest metallic red you've ever seen.  (That's when we called her menopause maude)  We weren't very nice.


After Raymond passed away some 15 years ago Ms. Flo had a series of boyfriends.  My mother once commented on the fact that Mrs. P. had a much busier social life than I did.  There was the street cleaner who would park his street cleaning machine in front of my house leaving the brushes turning while he paid a visit to FLorence Jean.  That was the period when I had the cleanest curb in town.  Then there was the poor one armed man she courted.  He would come over and work like a dog pushing her mower with one arm and cleaning her flower beds.  Then he died and she replaced him with yet another handyman.  At that point my mother all but gave up on me.  I'd been divorced 10 years and my social calendar was empty and Mrs. P. was already on her third prospect.  The problem  Mrs. P. had was she was working them all to death.  That or the ole boys just surrendered to death!


Her last suitor was in his 90's.  He would drive over to pay Florence a visit and I'm not exaggerating it would take him 30 minutes to shuffle up to the porch and another 30 to pull himself up the one step leading to the door.  OK....I am exaggerating....but it took him quite a spell.  But sadly, he passed away about a year ago and there have been no more boyfriends since.


Now, I feel sorry for Mrs. P.  She no longer drives but she's still keeping watch from her chair on the porch.  Guess I'll give her a call to redeem myself.  It may take awhile to convince her she called the wrong #.