It was very cold and a light snow was falling as young Jimmy Dorche piloted his Ford Escort down the street toward the City Park. Snow on Thanksgiving was a rarity in this part of the country and It caused almost as much excitement as the traditional turkey Dinner, the traditional afternoon of football, or the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade on television. But none of these things were on 17-year-old Jimmy's mind at the moment as he carefully maneuvered his car over the blacktop. He had his own tradition to tend to and what=2 0he was looking for he would probably find in the deserted park. Usually bustling with activity, even on cold days, the park was practically empty now. Everyone was home with friends and family enjoying their Thanksgiving turkey. Jimmy was tempted to have a bit more dinner himself, but his second helping sat on the car seat beside him along with a big hunk of Mom's homemade pumpkin pie and a Thermos bottle of hot coffee. Jimmy wouldn't succumb to temptation and eat more today. For the past two years, Jimmy had established a tradition for Himself. He had never suffered a hungry day in his life.
The son of an unwed teenaged mother, he was given up for adoption As an infant and was taken in by a Christian family. When he was fifteen, to honor his Lord as well as his parents, he decided to take his second helping of Thanksgiving dinner to the Park to share with a homeless man or woman.

His first year, he had found a man who had been on his own since he was thirteen. In the summer he worked odd jobs, but in winter he lived at the local rescue mission where he earned an occasional dollar by cleaning up the place. The second year, he shared his Thanksgiving dinner with an elderly man whose wife had died long before and his children had moved to another city.
They never contacted their father nor offered to help him in any way. "I reckon they're ashamed of me," the rheumy old man had said. Throughout the year, Jimmy often thought about the two men.
He had gone to the mission to try to find them, but they were Gone without a trace.

Now Jimmy wondered who he would meet this Thanksgiving. As soon as he arrived at the park, he saw a ragged woman sitting hunched over on the bench of one of the heavy concrete picnic tables provided by the city. She wore an old battered red coat and a dark wool cap over her matted, graying hair. Close beside her was the tattered bag that carried all her worldly possessions.
Jimmy pulled the car into a parking place and got out. He took the covered dishes and the Thermos bottle from the front seat and began walking toward the bag lady.

When he stood in front of her, she jumped as if she had suddenly been awakened from dozing. She looked up at Jimmy. Suddenly her eyes brightened and she started to speak but, instead, she lowered her head and stared at the frozen ground.

"God bless you, ma'am," Jimmy said, smiling. "I have brought you some Thanksgiving dinner. Would you do me the honor of sharing it with me." The woman looked at the food. She was very hungry -- she hadn't eaten since last night's dinner at the mission. She nodded and Jimmy served her food, uncovered the plates, put a napkin and silverware on the cold concrete picnic table, and
poured her a streaming cup of coffee from the Thermos. Then he watched her as she ate. Although it was very cold in the park, he felt warm inside. The God of love was clearly at work within him. He loved his tradition and he intended to continue it -- and more -- for the rest of his life.

When the woman had finished, he cleared the table and put the dishes into a pile. He poured another cup of coffee into her Styrofoam cup and closed the Thermos. Then he reached into his wallet and pulled out a twenty dollar bill. He thrust the money into her gnarled hand. Then he reached over and kissed her lightly on the forehead. "May God richly bless you, ma'am," he said softly. "And thank you for giving me the honor of sharing my Thanksgiving dinner with you." With that, Jimmy picked up his dishes and returned to the car.

She had stayed in the city purposely to see him grow, but remained carefully in the background and out of sight so she would not embarrass him or cause him pain. Her own life was a shambles -- time spent in state mental hospitals and, at other times, living on the streets. But she had seen him grow into manhood and was very proud of his many accomplishments. Today, she had longed to tell him who she was, but could not bring herself to do it. Instead she thanked God that He had so richly blessed her today, in spite of her trials. Tears welled up in her eyes. She had seen her son on Thanksgiving and he had loved his mother.

"The greatest among you will be your servant." (Matthew 23:11)

Anonymous

It was very cold and a light snow was falling as young Jimmy Dorche piloted his Ford Escort down the street toward the City Park. Snow on Thanksgiving was a rarity in this part of the country and It caused almost as much excitement as the traditional turkey Dinner, the traditional afternoon of football, or the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade on television. But none of these things were on 17-year-old Jimmy's mind at the moment as he carefully maneuvered his car over the blacktop. He had his own tradition to tend to and what=2 0he was looking for he would probably find in the deserted park. Usually bustling with activity, even on cold days, the park was practically empty now. Everyone was home with friends and family enjoying their Thanksgiving turkey. Jimmy was tempted to have a bit more dinner himself, but his second helping sat on the car seat beside him along with a big hunk of Mom's homemade pumpkin pie and a Thermos bottle of hot coffee. Jimmy wouldn't succumb to temptation and eat more today. For the past two years, Jimmy had established a tradition for Himself. He had never suffered a hungry day in his life.
The son of an unwed teenaged mother, he was given up for adoption As an infant and was taken in by a Christian family. When he was fifteen, to honor his Lord as well as his parents, he decided to take his second helping of Thanksgiving dinner to the Park to share with a homeless man or woman.

His first year, he had found a man who had been on his own since he was thirteen. In the summer he worked odd jobs, but in winter he lived at the local rescue mission where he earned an occasional dollar by cleaning up the place. The second year, he shared his Thanksgiving dinner with an elderly man whose wife had died long before and his children had moved to another city.
They never contacted their father nor offered to help him in any way. "I reckon they're ashamed of me," the rheumy old man had said. Throughout the year, Jimmy often thought about the two men.
He had gone to the mission to try to find them, but they were Gone without a trace.

Now Jimmy wondered who he would meet this Thanksgiving. As soon as he arrived at the park, he saw a ragged woman sitting hunched over on the bench of one of the heavy concrete picnic tables provided by the city. She wore an old battered red coat and a dark wool cap over her matted, graying hair. Close beside her was the tattered bag that carried all her worldly possessions.
Jimmy pulled the car into a parking place and got out. He took the covered dishes and the Thermos bottle from the front seat and began walking toward the bag lady.

When he stood in front of her, she jumped as if she had suddenly been awakened from dozing. She looked up at Jimmy. Suddenly her eyes brightened and she started to speak but, instead, she lowered her head and stared at the frozen ground.

"God bless you, ma'am," Jimmy said, smiling. "I have brought you some Thanksgiving dinner. Would you do me the honor of sharing it with me." The woman looked at the food. She was very hungry -- she hadn't eaten since last night's dinner at the mission. She nodded and Jimmy served her food, uncovered the plates, put a napkin and silverware on the cold concrete picnic table, and
poured her a streaming cup of coffee from the Thermos. Then he watched her as she ate. Although it was very cold in the park, he felt warm inside. The God of love was clearly at work within him. He loved his tradition and he intended to continue it -- and more -- for the rest of his life.

When the woman had finished, he cleared the table and put the dishes into a pile. He poured another cup of coffee into her Styrofoam cup and closed the Thermos. Then he reached into his wallet and pulled out a twenty dollar bill. He thrust the money into her gnarled hand. Then he reached over and kissed her lightly on the forehead. "May God richly bless you, ma'am," he said softly. "And thank you for giving me the honor of sharing my Thanksgiving dinner with you." With that, Jimmy picked up his dishes and returned to the car.

She had stayed in the city purposely to see him grow, but remained carefully in the background and out of sight so she would not embarrass him or cause him pain. Her own life was a shambles -- time spent in state mental hospitals and, at other times, living on the streets. But she had seen him grow into manhood and was very proud of his many accomplishments. Today, she had longed to tell him who she was, but could not bring herself to do it. Instead she thanked God that He had so richly blessed her today, in spite of her trials. Tears welled up in her eyes. She had seen her son on Thanksgiving and he had loved his mother.

"The greatest among you will be your servant." (Matthew 23:11)

Anonymous

God's Word is an amazing piece of Literature. Not only is it God's infallible word, but it is an ancient document. Bible study is one way to get to know God. Beth Moore opens God's Word with amazing clarity and excitement. I look forward to hearing her on Wednesdays on TV. I wish I could find a local Beth Moore Bible Study group.

Yesterday would have been my nephew, Raymond Andrew Monfee's 23rd birthday. He died on August 25, 2008 from a fatal motorcycle wreck. It was actually a "crotch rocket" as they have been named. I miss him. He was a good kid, a hard worker, a great bearer of the name Monfee.

Like so many who have gone before us, Mother, Daddy, Nancy, G3, Morris, we will see you again. Thank you God for your way of salvation through the death of your Son, Jesus, our Savior! If you don't know Him, you might want to seek Him.

PS: I just found out Aunt Honey died today.

Fatty Fatty two by four, can't get through the bathroom door. Fatty Fatty four by eight, can't get through the garden gate.

Yep, those were things I heard as a child. I was fat then, and I'm fat now. I'm sick of being fat. But, what's a body to do? You work at it and work at it, and nothing happens. For some reason, my teens, 20's, and 30's were good to me, and I wasn't fat, but my luck changed when I hit 40.

Elekeelpig was another name I heard quite frequently growing: Chuck called me that. It was a combo word for Elephant, a keel on a boat, and a pig. "Two ton truck load of mashed potatoes" was my nick name from Jimmy Kiper. That name kind of caught on and my daddy ended up calling me "two" for the longest time. My Daddy, my own daddy...he was playing, but my daddy!

When I would go to my Uncle Bob's house for Christmas dinner, he would nag me about how much I ate. I never enjoyed going there because of it. They all came to our house for Thanksgiving, and we all went to Uncle Wayne's for Easter.

I've tried herbalife, weightwatches (and gained 8 pounds), low carb, low fat, low sugar, or low this and that; you name it, I've tried it. And, it doesn't help my hubby cooks with pounds of butter, and is the master in the kitchen. Yummy...

I need to buy some clothes, but they look hideous. Do dress makers not realize that fat folks can't wear sleeveless, or plunging necklines? I can't stand to see fat people trying to dress skinny, or deluding themselves into thinking they are skinny when they aren't. Rolls hanging out all over the place. And the illusion that black makes you look thinner is for the birds. It doesn't, nor does it hide anything!

When I worked at Parisian in 2000, I tried on this outfit and the saleswoman said, "you should have taken off your clothes so it wouldn't bunch up like this." Then she grabbed my belly thinking it was bunched up clothing under the outfit. She was more embarrassed than I was. hahaha My belly wasn't that bad back then either.

I used to manage a dress shop in Livingston, Alabama. Tinkers carried Liz Claiborne. Those clothes fit me like a glove. I loved Liz; especially the winter white outfit. The sweater was a turtle neck. I looked really good in that outfit. That is how I want to look again.

I'm not comfortable anywhere, not even my own skin. Gotta do something. Back to the "Fat Belly" diet, I guess.

The homeless population in America, and the world, is increasing everyday! The American dream of home buying is becoming an unreachable goal for many. Apartment rental prices are soaring. If you are lucky, and can afford a home, prices and payments are huge! What is one to do?! The world isn't the Garden of Eden; it is a mean, cold, cruel, and dangerous place to be!

Homes are being foreclosed on everyday. Then, banks are turning around selling them for pennies on the dollar. Why not charge the occupants pennies on the dollar until the economic crisis resolves itself? Families are driven to bridges and underpasses. I'm sure the Dept. of Transportation will figure out a way to tax those boxes, I mean homesteads.

People are having to live multi-generational if they have family. People are having to share apartment costs with roommates; often times, these are unfamiliar people. Nonprofit organizations dedicated to housing the homeless are bulging at the seams; yet, there isn't enough funding to continue this major increase in services.

People require shelter. It is one of the three basic needs in life: food, clothing, and shelter. Something has to give! But what? And when?

Is this not a great picture! I love the colors of fall. They are glorious. God is good to provide such a multitude of color. Thank you God, creator of ALL things! I love you!

Today's Presidential election appears to be the beginning of very perilous times for our country. I've received and forwarded much email regarding "Stop Obama," "Obama said," "Obama does, or doesn't believe," and such.

I've already voted, so I can voice my opinion. Who? you might ask...McCain. I could not support Obama because of his Muslim and PLO ties, his liberal left stance, and his fundamental beliefs. It has nothing to do with him being African-American, a controversy in itself. I could have voted for Colin Powell.

Several years ago, my San Antonio pastor, John Hagee, was giving a message on prophecy. He was saying there would come a time when the US would turn its back on Israel. There would come a time when the US would fall and be integrated into the one world government. I couldn't figure out HOW something like that would happen. And, while sharing at home, this made my brother-n-law, a then Lt. Col. in the Air Force, very angry; he heartily replied, "Not on my watch it won't!"

We, Christians, are ON WATCH today. We must vote the Bible. We should NEVER compromise the Word of God.

Proverbs 21:1 says, "The king's heart is in the hand of the LORD; he directs it like a watercourse wherever he pleases." You know, King Nebuchadnezzar, was called God's servant, because he was used by God, yet he was an enemy of Israel. He put Shadrack, Meshack, and Abednigo in the fiery furnace.

Anyone can be used by God. I truly believe Barack Obama, if elected, will be "directed like a watercourse" by God regardless of what he personally believes. God's hand is in this election; we may not like ithe outcome, but I feel it is a divine appointment leading to Christ's return. Prophecy will be fulfilled, and Obama could be a part of that fulfillment.

We've allowed prayer to be taken out of schools. We've allowed the 10 Commandments stripped from the walls of our judicial system. "In God We Trust" is up to be taken off our currency. If God is taken out of everything, no wonder a man such as Obama is about to be put into the highest public office in America.

Christians need to continue to be faithful in all things: prayer, tithing, seeking wisdom and direction from God, etc. Last Sunday, Bro. Dave, my pastor, said "after this election is over 1) God will still be on His throne, 2) Jesus will still be our Savior, 3) the Holy Spirit will still move, 4) God's Church will still be the pillar of and ground for truth on this earth, 5) and the Bible will still be the inerrant Word of God." How wonderful! Talk about security.

Barack Obama is seeking Change! This has made me literally sick to my stomach, and fearful of exactly what kind of change. But God is constant through all seasons and weather. It's comin' a storm, seek shelter under the ROCK of our Salvation.

This was a picture I took of a rainbow in Selma, AL on the way home from Dallas. It was the first time I actually drove through a rainbow. I called my sister, and told her that I had driven through the rainbow, but didn't find a pot of gold at the end of it. She replied, "Well, I guess you were at the beginning of it." It was funny at the time.

Color amazes me: how white light breaks down into so many colors is amazing. So, if black is the absence of color, and white is the presence of color, then I'm a person of color. Wouldn't that make sense? Anyway...

I'm painting a bedroom, and I am wondering what color to paint it. I've had to paint a coat of primer over the present color, and need one more coat to kill the color. I guess I'll have to get the bedspread before I decide what color to use. I sure hope it isn't blue, I've had blue rooms in the past 3 houses I've lived in.

Just once I'd like to have a pink room, well, I can't say that because I had a pink kitchen in Livingston. Well, maybe I should say, I'd like to have a foofy room; a nice girly girl room.

Color your world today! I think I'll color mine blue...it's cold...burr.....

This is a picture of an ash tray like we had when I was growing up. I loved it. It was so interesting to look at. Unusual in shape, color, texture...just fascinating to me.

My daddy used to smoke, but after he asked Jesus to be his Savior, he was convicted to quit. He said, for him, he couldn't set a good Christian example with cigarettes in his pocket. Daddy was a good man; he had his faults as we all do. He was a perfectionist, which liked to have driven me crazy at times. He had a temper; after all, we are European Hispanic, a feisty bunch. But, he loved his Lord, his family, and his church.

When my middle son was in kindergarten, his teacher was Ms. Sue. One day we were in the grocery store, and we saw someone smoking. He pointed his little finger at her and said, "Ms. Sue said, 'Don't smoke!'." He smokes now, and I wish he could/would quit. People stink when they smoke. They reek fumes which penetrate the bed, the upholstery, the car interior, and just the air around non-smokers.

Nana and Papa used to smoke at least 2 packs a day a piece, but they quit. The air was so smoky in their house, at times, it looked like fog. My nose would bleed when I visited. My mother's father used to smoke, and he would say, "gotta go fog up!" hahaha. I always thought that was funny. But he died from complications of lung cancer. My brother used to smoke, and my mother prayed for his deliverance from it. Yes, praise the Lord, he has quit, and can't imagine how he ever smoked.

Back to Nana. She had quit smoking for a couple of years. One day we were on the way home from church and she was fumbling around in her purse. Finally, Papa said, "Janice, what are you looking for?" She said, "My cigarettes!" He said, "Janice, you quit 2 years ago." She laughed and said something to the affect that you never really quit wanting one even when you quit. What a strong addiction to have.

I have NEVER had the urge to smoke, and have never even put one in my mouth. A former friend on mine asked me once to put one in my mouth just to see what I looked like. I told him/her, "No way, that is one thing you would never see me do." And, I mean it! I HAVE NO DESIRE to taste a nasty cigarette. YUCK!

And, I don't see how people afford to smoke. It is just like rolling a dollar bill up and lighting it. Makes NO sense to me.

Holly Hobbie was the cutest, most wholesome doll. This was another lunch box I had. I love the falling leaves, the colors of Autumn, and whimsy of little girls.

I never had a little girl. What fun it must be playing with dolls, yet being all grown up. Stretching the imagination along with a little daughter seems like a treasure lost. Sara would have been my daughters name. I did get to enjoy Tabitha, my niece, who was killed post-tornado due to a tree falling on her while she slept. We did the Kaboodle thing every morning. I even bought her a kiddyboodle full of kiddy makeup. And she loved her Mister Potato Head earrings. We painted fingernails, and toe nails. It was a joy.

My sister is having a girl, but I won't get to enjoy her. Possibly, some child of mine, which I doubt, may eventually get married, and have a daughter. Otherwise, I'll just have to babysit the nursery at church, I guess.

Autumn is such a festive time. Although I detest Halloween and everything it stands for, I do love Harvest time. The moon was full this morning, and popping huge just over the horizon at 6:00 am. The smells are different; the nip in the air is fresh. Golds, rustic reds, olive greens, cocoa browns, what a beautiful combination of color.

Here is my short poem: Ode to Autumn

I feel Autumn in the air.
Take a moment, stop and stare.
All the leaves upon the trees,
are now swept up by a brisk, cool breeze.

Doesn't nature ever stop?
Must the leaves change their frock
from lovely green, to red and gold?
What a sight to behold!

It's all in the Artist hand.
Sit back, relax, see Autumn again.

http://www.shocco.org/60thPage.html

What a fabulous place to spend a summer. Shocco Springs Baptist Assembly in Talladega Alabama GA Camp! Tongo, chimney ba ba yo Tongo Cumbade cum by oh. ooo wah lay, molly pa, molly whey!
Up and down THE hill. Skinny marinkey dinkey dink. You were skinny after that hill.

The 6oth staffer reunion is in December...gotta try and go!

Heath, my middle son, is having some personal issues of dire consequences. Please lift him up in prayer that God will use his life for His glory. And, that Heath will realize that glorifying God is the only way to lead a successful, fulfilling life.

Well, I got home yesterday only to find most of my Clinique had been used.  All I hear is privacy privacy privacy, but mine is never respected.  This is expensive stuff, and normally lasts me a year.  I always buy more for my birthday every year.  It's worth paying more, and getting better results.  By dividing the fact that it lasts so long, it is actually less expensive to use, and my face is at its best. 

I guess that happens to all women with children.  Kids get into everything.   We see pictures of little girls with lipstick smeared all over their face.  I even have a picture of my brother, from my mother's pics, where my brother had white talcum powder all over his face after his bath.  Too funny, And, my son always took everything electronic I had.

I do miss working for Parisian and being able to get a HUGE discount on my clothes and makeup.  Parisian isn't even a store anymore; Belk's bought them out.  And the extra commission from Clinique was a wonderful thing.  Clinique also mails employees and little gift in the mail every so often, so there is always a little something special to brighten the day when you open the post box.  Its a great job for a single person, but murderous for married folks.  Nights, weekends, and holidays are rough.  Although, I liked the customer service desk position better than Clinique.  Not as much money, but more of a management position.

The training sessions Clinique sent me to was so fun.  The group I was in one year actually won the little contest we were in and got a load of extra stuff.  I usually had SO much that I was giving it away in goody baskets to sick friends in the hospital or for birthday presents.

We won with this little poem I wrote.

The Clinique computer, as you see, is a helpful tool for you and me.
Conditions and strengths are its main concern,
In just 3 minutes, your skin-type we'll learn.

It knows no age, sex, or color;
Clinique's the best above all other.

Oh well, maybe I'll think of the rest soon, or find it, and finish my post.

Well, the doctor said it DID look like a blood clot in Mother Roberson's leg, and recommended abdominal sub-q heprin.  She refused, of course, saying, "that stuff 'll kill ya."  No one could convince her that the blood clot could kill her too.  She is into herbal things like I am.  She has been taking garlic tablets to thin her blood, and cranberry juice to flush her kidneys.  The blood clot seems to be dissolving, and her leg healing.

My herbal interest came from Lisa, and Laura Culberson's grandmother, Granny Culberson.  Ever so often, Mary Alice, Lisa and Laura's mother, would load up Granny Culberson and off to Jemison to the herb doctor they would go.  We got such a kick out of going to the herb doctor.  I was fortunate to be able to go with them on a couple of occasions.  Granny would have her little plastic bags full of herbs waded in her hand, and off we would go, back home.  When I started learning about herbs, I emailed Laura laughing about it; she laughed back and admitted, she was into herbs too!

My hubby is coming to take me home tomorrow!!!  yippy....

Precious memories, how they linger...  What a great song.

Well, the doctor said it DID look like a blood clot and recommended abdominal sub-q heprin.  She refused, of course, saying, "that stuff will kill ya."  No one could convince her that the blood clot could kill her too.  She is into herbal things like I am.  She has been taking garlic tablets to thin her blood, and cranberry juice to flush her kidneys.  The blood clot seems to be dissolving, and her leg healing.

My herbal interest came from Lisa, and Laura Culberson's grandmother, Granny Culberson.  Ever so often, Mary Alice, Lisa and Laura's mother, would load up Granny Culberson and off to Jemison to the herb doctor they would go.  We got such a kick out of going to the herb doctor.  I was fortunate to be able to go with them on a couple of occasions.  Granny would have her little plastic bags full of herbs waded in her hand, and off we would go, back home.

Precious memories, how they linger...  What a great song.

When I was a little girl, my grandmothers gave me any and everthing I ever wanted.  My daddy's mother, Granny Monfee, picked me up from school every afternoon.  Granny would take me to Eastbrook to Woolworths and would buy me something.  I do remember a doll with a trunk full of clothes she got once.  Then we would go home and have a semi-frozen TAB, much like today's Icee.  When Granny uncapped the bottle, the TAB would slush up and over the neck.  One time, my mother and I were in Montgomery Fair, which was bought by Gayfers, and is now Dillards.  I saw a porcelain bride doll music box.  I wanted it SO badly, and my mother said "NO, and don't you ask your grandmother for it either."  Well, naturally, I didn't listen, and the very next day when Granny picked me up from school, we headed right toward Woolworths.  Montgomery Fair was right beside Woolworths, and I HAD to show my Granny this music box bride doll.  She bought it for me, teeheehee.  I was so happy.  It was $25.00 which seems like nothing today, but back then my parents house payment was only $58.00 per month.  So, the music box would be about $400.00 in today's market.  Needless to say, my mother was SO mad, and my Granny had to talk my mom out of taking it back.  After all I was the first grandchild, and girl on both sides of the family.  Granny Monfee had had 2 sons.  I still have the music box; although, it is in several pieces having been broken in several moves.

My other grandmother, Nancy, who was my mother's mom wasn't as wealthy as my Granny Monfee, but bought me stuff too.  She bought me a bitty bathtub baby from the dime store once.  I loved that doll.  The box she came in was plastic, and shaped like a bathtub.  She had a scrub brush, fragranced soap, and a towel and rag. I can remember going to the resturant Nancy worked in on Friday night's.  I would eat the turkey and dressing for supper at the counter while waiting for her to get off work.  I called her Nancy because she said she didn't want to be called granny; it made her sound old.  Eventually, I called her pooh bear.  That is another story for another day.  I even got my first job at the same place she was working.  Another story for another day.

My grandmothers got together one Christmas, or birthday, I don't remember, and bought me a Suzy Homemaker kitchen set.  I had the sink, like in the picture here, the stove, which was like an easy bake oven, and a washing machine that really worked.  However, when I tried to wash my rock collection, it jammed up the machine and it never worked again.  They don't make Suzy Homemaker stuff anymore.  But, I had a great time with my kitchen set.

I really miss my grandmothers.  People die before you really get a chance to know them and enjoy them.  But, I'm grateful for the time I had with them. 

This doll of mine was able to do pirroettes.  Battery operated, round and round she went.  I played with her as a ballerina, and as a student in my class.  My doll bed was the overhead projector when turned up on its end.  My brother was the principal.  He would load home movies into the movie projector, set up the screen in the living room, and summon "the class" for movies.  I would take all of my dolls in the living room where we would all watch home movies.  My brother and I had such fun; we were perfect playmates.  His GI Joe action figures were in class too.  He would never forgive me it I called his action figures dolls.  Psst..."but they were."  Shh...don't tell!

Even when I played Barbies, his GI Joe's were Ken and Allen's business associates.  Ken and Allen would ride in the Barbie camper to the GI Joe base headquarters.  Wow, what a good time was had playing when we were young children.  Momma never called us kids, we were chill-dren.  Kids were goats.

PS:  gotta go wash, the geek squad had to reset the mother board in the washer.  That is why it was broken

My husband's mother may have a blood clot in her leg.  Don't know, but her leg is purple and swollen.  She has PAD, or peripheral artery disease.  Pray for her health.  She is in the nursing home in Clanton.