Sunday, April 30, 2006
All God's Children Ain't Got Wings
ALL GOD’S CHILDREN AIN’T GOT WINGS
Never knock on Death’s door, ring the doorbell and run (he hates that!)
- Anon
Everybody wants to go to heaven, but nobody wants to die. We were told in training that Peruvians referred to one airline as “the death airline.” We were also told that while many of us would die in plane accidents, most of our deaths would be the result of automobile accidents. Nothing deterred us.
As we split into our small groups to leave Lima, we learned that the two volunteers going to Chachapoyas and the 16 going to Cuzco would be flying to our sites. The others went by buses to their areas. Flights going to Cuzco left very early because they had to land early in Cuzco because of the altitude that causes the air to get thinner in the afternoon and that affects planes. That morning found sixteen, green (in more ways than one) volunteers boarding a four-engine Faucett plane for Cuzco. The appearance of the plane didn’t inspire confidence in any of us. It looked as if it had been put together with aluminum foil and thumbtacks. Amidst the race to get strapped into our seats, frantically wondering how the plane could get off the ground, and fervently praying that it wouldn’t, we discovered two long tubes attached underneath each window. The tubes in each row were for the two people sitting in the seats ahead. The stewardess explained that the tubes were for us to inhale oxygen. The plane was not pressurized.
A few minutes out of Lima we grabbed those tubes and sucked on them for dear life. Occasionally the oxygen supply was cut off when the people seated behind moved around or tried to take pictures of the snow-covered mountains, and accidentally doubled or disconnected the air hose, and we were left gasping for air. Our group kept the stewardesses busy.
They must have thought to themselves, “And these ignorant Americans are coming here to teach us? They can’t even keep their oxygen tubes connected.”
We were fighting to keep down breakfast, drooling, and swallowing air. What a horrible sight and worse feeling. I recall the pilot pointing out the highest peak in Peru, and I wondered who cared. I kept peeking out and down to see how close the pilot could get to those mountains without touching them.
When we finally landed in Cuzco, after they cleared the dirt runway of llamas, we floated off the plane because we were so inflated with air. It was a good thing because Cuzco, at 11,400 feet above sea level, had little air to offer. We landed on top of a mountain and crawled off the aircraft. We were told that because of the altitude we might have a bit of difficulty breathing for the first few days in Cuzco; that one alcoholic drink would make you feel as if you had had three, and that periodically we were to descend to sea level in order to keep our chests from expanding. Some of the women in my group wanted their chests to expand. We were struck by the abnormally large chests of the diminutive Quechua Indians that enabled them to carry loads several times their weight. They were the beasts of burden.
All new arrivals to Cuzco are strongly advised to go to bed immediately to avoid altitude sickness that consists of a headache and dizziness, and to allow the body to become acclimated to the thin air in Cuzco. We hadn’t had enough oxygen on the plane and there seemed even less to be had on the ground. We were about to be some sick puppies. After a few days we were acclimated, or so I thought, and then my nosebleeds began.
One morning a bus took our small group to a village several hours outside of town. We were there to view a school and its feeding program. We were greeted and began looking around when I suddenly felt my nose dripping. I got out a tissue and saw I had a nosebleed. I was alarmed because I had never had a nosebleed. The bleeding worsened almost immediately. I went outside and Irene, who had seen the blood, followed me. When our bus driver saw the problem, he said he would take us to a clinic. We boarded the bus just as the rest of our group came out of the building. We had had no time to tell anyone where we were going or what was happening. Some of the group saw us board the bus, and they knew something had happened. We sped to a “clinic.” By now the blood was gushing out and I was very frightened. Whoever was in charge at the clinic took me right in. Irene spoke Spanish and translated. The medical person gave me an injection. I didn’t want it because I didn’t know how or if the needle had been sterilized, or what was in the medication. Was it made in the back room or where? But the nosebleed had to be stopped. During our training we had been told to be very cautious about accepting medical help in villages.
U.S. officials certainly did not want us receiving any injections while in these areas. But I was beyond caring at that point. I just wanted the bleeding to stop. After a few minutes it did. Meanwhile, the bus driver had returned to the school to pick up the others. They then returned to the clinic to collect us.
Upon arriving back in Cuzco I took to my bed per instructions. My roommate was going to bring up my dinner. I was sitting up in bed reading when my nose began bleeding again. I tried to stop it and it began gushing. I ran down the hall in my gown and robe, flew through the lobby to the dining room door where I shouted for my roommate. She and others came running. I plopped down in an oversized chair outside the dining room. Some of the volunteers made me hold my head back. I would do that until a huge glob of blood slid down my throat and then I would jerk my head up which made it bleed more and on and on. They got towels to hold to my nose. The floor was soon littered with bloody towels. I know that the other diners were not thrilled at hearing me squealing and seeing blood flowing while they were trying to eat their soup with floating eyeballs and other delicacies in it. The volunteers were shouting for ice, water and all manner of things. They would not let me move for hours to return to my room. I felt sorry for them because they had just begun dinner, and dinner was over by the time I was able to return to my room. On the other hand, after dealing with my bloody nose, and me I don’t imagine that many wanted to continue with dinner. Finally I was helped up the stairs to my room where I gingerly crawled into bed and went off to sleep with a towel at my nose, just in case.
The next day Irene and I were taken to a local doctor. He said I needed to have the blood vessels in my nose cauterized. He said there was no urgency, and explained that nosebleeds were common in the rare air of the mountains, and said it was nothing to worry about. Easy for him to say. It wasn’t him who was afraid to blow his nose. It wasn’t him who was afraid to go anywhere for fear of being embarrassed by having another nosebleed. After one more nosebleed, my other roommate, Jessica, accompanied me to the doctor who cauterized the blood vessels and that took care of that. It was not a pleasant experience, but the nosebleeds stopped.
***
Never knock on Death’s door, ring the doorbell and run (he hates that!)
- Anon
Everybody wants to go to heaven, but nobody wants to die. We were told in training that Peruvians referred to one airline as “the death airline.” We were also told that while many of us would die in plane accidents, most of our deaths would be the result of automobile accidents. Nothing deterred us.
As we split into our small groups to leave Lima, we learned that the two volunteers going to Chachapoyas and the 16 going to Cuzco would be flying to our sites. The others went by buses to their areas. Flights going to Cuzco left very early because they had to land early in Cuzco because of the altitude that causes the air to get thinner in the afternoon and that affects planes. That morning found sixteen, green (in more ways than one) volunteers boarding a four-engine Faucett plane for Cuzco. The appearance of the plane didn’t inspire confidence in any of us. It looked as if it had been put together with aluminum foil and thumbtacks. Amidst the race to get strapped into our seats, frantically wondering how the plane could get off the ground, and fervently praying that it wouldn’t, we discovered two long tubes attached underneath each window. The tubes in each row were for the two people sitting in the seats ahead. The stewardess explained that the tubes were for us to inhale oxygen. The plane was not pressurized.
A few minutes out of Lima we grabbed those tubes and sucked on them for dear life. Occasionally the oxygen supply was cut off when the people seated behind moved around or tried to take pictures of the snow-covered mountains, and accidentally doubled or disconnected the air hose, and we were left gasping for air. Our group kept the stewardesses busy.
They must have thought to themselves, “And these ignorant Americans are coming here to teach us? They can’t even keep their oxygen tubes connected.”
We were fighting to keep down breakfast, drooling, and swallowing air. What a horrible sight and worse feeling. I recall the pilot pointing out the highest peak in Peru, and I wondered who cared. I kept peeking out and down to see how close the pilot could get to those mountains without touching them.
When we finally landed in Cuzco, after they cleared the dirt runway of llamas, we floated off the plane because we were so inflated with air. It was a good thing because Cuzco, at 11,400 feet above sea level, had little air to offer. We landed on top of a mountain and crawled off the aircraft. We were told that because of the altitude we might have a bit of difficulty breathing for the first few days in Cuzco; that one alcoholic drink would make you feel as if you had had three, and that periodically we were to descend to sea level in order to keep our chests from expanding. Some of the women in my group wanted their chests to expand. We were struck by the abnormally large chests of the diminutive Quechua Indians that enabled them to carry loads several times their weight. They were the beasts of burden.
All new arrivals to Cuzco are strongly advised to go to bed immediately to avoid altitude sickness that consists of a headache and dizziness, and to allow the body to become acclimated to the thin air in Cuzco. We hadn’t had enough oxygen on the plane and there seemed even less to be had on the ground. We were about to be some sick puppies. After a few days we were acclimated, or so I thought, and then my nosebleeds began.
One morning a bus took our small group to a village several hours outside of town. We were there to view a school and its feeding program. We were greeted and began looking around when I suddenly felt my nose dripping. I got out a tissue and saw I had a nosebleed. I was alarmed because I had never had a nosebleed. The bleeding worsened almost immediately. I went outside and Irene, who had seen the blood, followed me. When our bus driver saw the problem, he said he would take us to a clinic. We boarded the bus just as the rest of our group came out of the building. We had had no time to tell anyone where we were going or what was happening. Some of the group saw us board the bus, and they knew something had happened. We sped to a “clinic.” By now the blood was gushing out and I was very frightened. Whoever was in charge at the clinic took me right in. Irene spoke Spanish and translated. The medical person gave me an injection. I didn’t want it because I didn’t know how or if the needle had been sterilized, or what was in the medication. Was it made in the back room or where? But the nosebleed had to be stopped. During our training we had been told to be very cautious about accepting medical help in villages.
U.S. officials certainly did not want us receiving any injections while in these areas. But I was beyond caring at that point. I just wanted the bleeding to stop. After a few minutes it did. Meanwhile, the bus driver had returned to the school to pick up the others. They then returned to the clinic to collect us.
Upon arriving back in Cuzco I took to my bed per instructions. My roommate was going to bring up my dinner. I was sitting up in bed reading when my nose began bleeding again. I tried to stop it and it began gushing. I ran down the hall in my gown and robe, flew through the lobby to the dining room door where I shouted for my roommate. She and others came running. I plopped down in an oversized chair outside the dining room. Some of the volunteers made me hold my head back. I would do that until a huge glob of blood slid down my throat and then I would jerk my head up which made it bleed more and on and on. They got towels to hold to my nose. The floor was soon littered with bloody towels. I know that the other diners were not thrilled at hearing me squealing and seeing blood flowing while they were trying to eat their soup with floating eyeballs and other delicacies in it. The volunteers were shouting for ice, water and all manner of things. They would not let me move for hours to return to my room. I felt sorry for them because they had just begun dinner, and dinner was over by the time I was able to return to my room. On the other hand, after dealing with my bloody nose, and me I don’t imagine that many wanted to continue with dinner. Finally I was helped up the stairs to my room where I gingerly crawled into bed and went off to sleep with a towel at my nose, just in case.
The next day Irene and I were taken to a local doctor. He said I needed to have the blood vessels in my nose cauterized. He said there was no urgency, and explained that nosebleeds were common in the rare air of the mountains, and said it was nothing to worry about. Easy for him to say. It wasn’t him who was afraid to blow his nose. It wasn’t him who was afraid to go anywhere for fear of being embarrassed by having another nosebleed. After one more nosebleed, my other roommate, Jessica, accompanied me to the doctor who cauterized the blood vessels and that took care of that. It was not a pleasant experience, but the nosebleeds stopped.
***
Sunday, April 16, 2006
Alpha Female, from Ebony's book
ALPHA FEMALE
My mommy thinks she is the alpha female in this household. Not true. I let her think that for several months until she was totally dependent upon me, and then I showed her who the boss was. When she opens the door to the hallway for us to go out for a walk, I leap out the door. That just jiggles her last nerve. Plus I stand there panting and gasping which I know annoys her. I found that out accidentally and since I found out, I now do it all the time. If I move around underneath the table, I’ll open my mouth and pant a little. If I move from one room to another I’ll pant. It drives her insane. She is always yelling, “Shut that mouth!” That makes me do it louder. When we go out early in the morning she starts mumbling about me being quiet and not waking up the neighbors. Heck, the neighbors oughta be up and gone to work. Few people seem to work around here. I don’t understand it! I should add some barking! Boy, wouldn’t that jar her mother’s pickles!
My mommy thinks she is the alpha female in this household. Not true. I let her think that for several months until she was totally dependent upon me, and then I showed her who the boss was. When she opens the door to the hallway for us to go out for a walk, I leap out the door. That just jiggles her last nerve. Plus I stand there panting and gasping which I know annoys her. I found that out accidentally and since I found out, I now do it all the time. If I move around underneath the table, I’ll open my mouth and pant a little. If I move from one room to another I’ll pant. It drives her insane. She is always yelling, “Shut that mouth!” That makes me do it louder. When we go out early in the morning she starts mumbling about me being quiet and not waking up the neighbors. Heck, the neighbors oughta be up and gone to work. Few people seem to work around here. I don’t understand it! I should add some barking! Boy, wouldn’t that jar her mother’s pickles!
I was so cute the other night. You see when I go out the last thing at night around 10 or 10:30 p.m., I used to go out and pee and then I would sniff around and investigate the lawn. Mommy stands in the doorway and urges me to hurry up and come in before somebody sees me or sees her. I don’t care if they see me. She cares because she’s standing there in the gown and robe and usually looking like the wrath of God when she goes to bed – and when she gets up too, if the truth be known.
Mommy wants me to hurry and pee. A few months ago she decided to give me a treat to make me hurry back inside. She would get out my treat and keep it in her hand. I would be so excited that I could hardly pee. Sometimes I didn’t want to leave the patio to get on the grass, I wanted my treat. Now that she knows I’ll rush back, we then go into the kitchen and she gives me my treat and then I drink a lot of water so that she can wash my dish. I hear her standing there impatiently saying I should have come into the kitchen to drink water before so she doesn’t have to stand and wait for me to finish so that she can wash my dish. I have 1001 ways of tickling her fancy, or maybe I mean tickling my fancy.
So, the other night I went outside. I really wanted my treat so as I bounced off the patio I saw Mommy reach down for something she dropped, and I grabbed that opportunity to run right back inside the house. She thought I had peed. She closed the door and we went into the kitchen. I had my treat, drank lots of water and then left the kitchen. She was still in there washing my dish. On my way back to the library I stopped and peed in the living room since I had to pee. A few minutes later Mommy came walking through and I saw her stop and look at the wet area.
She yelled, “No you didn’t! I know you didn’t pee in the house!”
Oh yes I did! She cussed a little and I stayed underneath the coffee table and peeped out at her. She put on a rubber glove and got some cleanser and paper towels and went to work on the area. She was sort of angry, I must say. When she finished cleaning the spot, she told me I had to go outside and pee. I didn’t have to pee anymore. I had peed in the house, but she was furious, so I reluctantly went outside.
I stood on the grass looking at her, watching for the opportunity to run back inside. But she had closed the screen door and stood there acting like she was going to close the patio door.
She kept hissing at me, “Go pee! Go pee!”
Finally I simply squatted and pretended to pee in order to get back inside and go back to sleep. Once I squatted, she was happy and I came in. I still had to hear her raving about me not ever daring to pee in the house again. Just wait till I get another chance! I’ll show her who the alpha female is. And it ain’t her!
***
Saturday, April 15, 2006
Meeting Uncle Michael by Ebony B. Duline
MEETING UNCLE MICHAEL (from my book, "Warrior Princess")
- By Ebony Bertha Duline
The first time I met Uncle Michael I wasn’t too impressed with him. If truth be told, I wasn’t impressed at all. He and Auntie Queen rushed in one Friday afternoon from Washington, D.C. A lot of other things had been going on in our house and I knew it had to do with Granny Bertha going away. My mommy was crying, and people were coming in and out, and all was sadness. I was all but forgotten…until they left at night, and then my mommy cuddled and talked to me.
When the DC-ites arrived they all ran over to Granny Bertha’s apartment and brought back some things. The next day they spent all day over there and when they came back, they were chattering about how hard Uncle Michael worked and what he had accomplished. Hey, what a big word for a little person like me! Mommy always says I’m my own little person, so I guess that means I’m a person. I still wasn’t impressed with Mikey as I thought of him. He seemed preoccupied, and all but ignored me. He was guzzling beer and yapping. I had never seen anything like him. And he was my mommy’s brother? Oh boy! He yelled a lot and made her laugh a lot, but he didn’t make ME laugh. He just annoyed me. Auntie Queen was sweet, but even so, I could tell that she was not real crazy about me. My attitude was that they could head back to Washington, and the sooner the better.
The three of them came in long enough to shower and change clothes, have a glass of wine……and, oh, that’s another thing. That Mikey was slurping down anything liquid! Mommy had bought him a six pack of some foreign beer. He swallowed that down like it was water and was looking for some more. She seemed surprised that the six pack was not going to last until Sunday. Mikey then looked around and began drinking wine. He could drink and drink, but didn’t seem to get drunk! Mommy gave me a quick walk – emphasis on quick! – and they were off to dinner at Granny Gladys’ and Grandpa Dougie’s. And why didn’t they take me? That is my question! I had been to my grandparents’ home before. But oh, no, they left me home alone. I had time to think about this visit and my thoughts were not nice!
It wasn’t enough that Mommy gave Auntie Queen the master, oops, the mistress’ suite while we slept in the library as she loves calling that little hole. I call it the black hole of Calcutta cause all you can see is books and magazines piled on top of more books and magazines. A computer sticks up out of the chaos. And that was where I had to sleep while Auntie Queen lolled in MY suite. I was loath to understand why I had to give up my bed just cause Mommy wanted Qwenie to be comfy. So there Mommy and me were stuffed in the library for two nights. There was hardly room for me to turn my ass-sets around. The sofa bed took up all of the space. So, I was not too happy about the sleeping arrangements. Plus, I had been alone all day and now they were going out for half the night.
The next morning Mikey said he would take me walking. Humph. I didn’t want him taking me anywhere. He’d barely said hello to me in two days, and now he wanted to take me walking. What an experience that would be! Mommy was so happy that she didn’t have to change out of her nightgown and take me out. She could get breakfast started. I wasn’t happy worth a dime. Off I went with Mr. Mikey! He chatted as we walked, and I ignored him. I did my bidness and told him to take me home. I led the way. He didn’t know anything about walking me. I wanted my mommy to walk me. When we got back home, old Mikey went into the bathroom to wash his hands. Mommy was in the kitchen rattling pots and pans. I decided it was time to let everybody know what I thought of the way I was being treated. I got in the middle of the living room floor. I squatted and peed and peed just as Mikey walked in, and at the same time Mommy came out of the kitchen. My timing was impeccable! There’s another one of those big words that I know!
Mommy shrieked, “Ebony, what are you doing?!”
She could see that I was peeing.
Mikey yelled, “What a nasty, disgusting little dog!”
I was gonna show him disgusting!
Mommy asked Mikey what I did outside. He said I did everything. Neither of them knew then that we doggie persons don’t let out all of our urine at once. We always save some in case we come across poop that needs to be marked. And the living room definitely needed to be marked as MY territory and not Mikey’s! Mikey retreated to his room in disgust. Mommy’s face looked like a thundercloud. She was hotter than a firecracker as they say Uncle Rabbit used to say. She grabbed paper towels, stain remover, rubber gloves, and I ran into the library and out of sight. I could hear her talking out loud, and I was pretty certain she had not learned those words in Sunday school.
Later, I heard her telling Mikey and Qwenie that Granny Bertha’s death and all the excitement caused by that probably caused me to act out. I really wanted to get into Mikey’s room to pee on his suitcase or on his clothes, or worse. But I never got the opportunity. I wanted to make another statement.
Later that day the limo arrived to take those DC characters back to the airport. When they said goodbye to me, I replied, “Good riddance.” They didn’t speak my language, but I think they got the message. When Mommy returned from the airport it was just the two of us again and I cuddled up to her and all was forgiven.
The next year Auntie Queen, Uncle Chris and that Mikey came again, and this time Mikey was actually nice. He had the nerve to ask Mommy if I was the same dog she had last year! What did he think?! He said I seemed different. It wasn’t me who was different. It was his ass that was different! Oh, he still swilled beer and anything else alcoholic, but we were celebrating Mommy’s birthday, so he acted better than previously. I adored Uncle Chris. He played with me constantly. Auntie Queen always sends me wonderful Christmas presents, so I love her. I think I’m beginning to like Uncle Mikey. For Christmas he and Uncle Chris sent me some goodies “made with love” and I really loved them. Yep, I think I’ll keep my uncles. Now I must get ready to meet their Big Brother, Uncle Ken. I hope Uncle Ken is ready for me. He does send me cute little e-cards, so I think I am going to like him too. He hasn’t sent me any presents, so he’ll have to make up for that!
The end.- By Ebony Bertha Duline
The first time I met Uncle Michael I wasn’t too impressed with him. If truth be told, I wasn’t impressed at all. He and Auntie Queen rushed in one Friday afternoon from Washington, D.C. A lot of other things had been going on in our house and I knew it had to do with Granny Bertha going away. My mommy was crying, and people were coming in and out, and all was sadness. I was all but forgotten…until they left at night, and then my mommy cuddled and talked to me.
When the DC-ites arrived they all ran over to Granny Bertha’s apartment and brought back some things. The next day they spent all day over there and when they came back, they were chattering about how hard Uncle Michael worked and what he had accomplished. Hey, what a big word for a little person like me! Mommy always says I’m my own little person, so I guess that means I’m a person. I still wasn’t impressed with Mikey as I thought of him. He seemed preoccupied, and all but ignored me. He was guzzling beer and yapping. I had never seen anything like him. And he was my mommy’s brother? Oh boy! He yelled a lot and made her laugh a lot, but he didn’t make ME laugh. He just annoyed me. Auntie Queen was sweet, but even so, I could tell that she was not real crazy about me. My attitude was that they could head back to Washington, and the sooner the better.
The three of them came in long enough to shower and change clothes, have a glass of wine……and, oh, that’s another thing. That Mikey was slurping down anything liquid! Mommy had bought him a six pack of some foreign beer. He swallowed that down like it was water and was looking for some more. She seemed surprised that the six pack was not going to last until Sunday. Mikey then looked around and began drinking wine. He could drink and drink, but didn’t seem to get drunk! Mommy gave me a quick walk – emphasis on quick! – and they were off to dinner at Granny Gladys’ and Grandpa Dougie’s. And why didn’t they take me? That is my question! I had been to my grandparents’ home before. But oh, no, they left me home alone. I had time to think about this visit and my thoughts were not nice!
It wasn’t enough that Mommy gave Auntie Queen the master, oops, the mistress’ suite while we slept in the library as she loves calling that little hole. I call it the black hole of Calcutta cause all you can see is books and magazines piled on top of more books and magazines. A computer sticks up out of the chaos. And that was where I had to sleep while Auntie Queen lolled in MY suite. I was loath to understand why I had to give up my bed just cause Mommy wanted Qwenie to be comfy. So there Mommy and me were stuffed in the library for two nights. There was hardly room for me to turn my ass-sets around. The sofa bed took up all of the space. So, I was not too happy about the sleeping arrangements. Plus, I had been alone all day and now they were going out for half the night.
The next morning Mikey said he would take me walking. Humph. I didn’t want him taking me anywhere. He’d barely said hello to me in two days, and now he wanted to take me walking. What an experience that would be! Mommy was so happy that she didn’t have to change out of her nightgown and take me out. She could get breakfast started. I wasn’t happy worth a dime. Off I went with Mr. Mikey! He chatted as we walked, and I ignored him. I did my bidness and told him to take me home. I led the way. He didn’t know anything about walking me. I wanted my mommy to walk me. When we got back home, old Mikey went into the bathroom to wash his hands. Mommy was in the kitchen rattling pots and pans. I decided it was time to let everybody know what I thought of the way I was being treated. I got in the middle of the living room floor. I squatted and peed and peed just as Mikey walked in, and at the same time Mommy came out of the kitchen. My timing was impeccable! There’s another one of those big words that I know!
Mommy shrieked, “Ebony, what are you doing?!”
She could see that I was peeing.
Mikey yelled, “What a nasty, disgusting little dog!”
I was gonna show him disgusting!
Mommy asked Mikey what I did outside. He said I did everything. Neither of them knew then that we doggie persons don’t let out all of our urine at once. We always save some in case we come across poop that needs to be marked. And the living room definitely needed to be marked as MY territory and not Mikey’s! Mikey retreated to his room in disgust. Mommy’s face looked like a thundercloud. She was hotter than a firecracker as they say Uncle Rabbit used to say. She grabbed paper towels, stain remover, rubber gloves, and I ran into the library and out of sight. I could hear her talking out loud, and I was pretty certain she had not learned those words in Sunday school.
Later, I heard her telling Mikey and Qwenie that Granny Bertha’s death and all the excitement caused by that probably caused me to act out. I really wanted to get into Mikey’s room to pee on his suitcase or on his clothes, or worse. But I never got the opportunity. I wanted to make another statement.
Later that day the limo arrived to take those DC characters back to the airport. When they said goodbye to me, I replied, “Good riddance.” They didn’t speak my language, but I think they got the message. When Mommy returned from the airport it was just the two of us again and I cuddled up to her and all was forgiven.
The next year Auntie Queen, Uncle Chris and that Mikey came again, and this time Mikey was actually nice. He had the nerve to ask Mommy if I was the same dog she had last year! What did he think?! He said I seemed different. It wasn’t me who was different. It was his ass that was different! Oh, he still swilled beer and anything else alcoholic, but we were celebrating Mommy’s birthday, so he acted better than previously. I adored Uncle Chris. He played with me constantly. Auntie Queen always sends me wonderful Christmas presents, so I love her. I think I’m beginning to like Uncle Mikey. For Christmas he and Uncle Chris sent me some goodies “made with love” and I really loved them. Yep, I think I’ll keep my uncles. Now I must get ready to meet their Big Brother, Uncle Ken. I hope Uncle Ken is ready for me. He does send me cute little e-cards, so I think I am going to like him too. He hasn’t sent me any presents, so he’ll have to make up for that!
Daylight Savings Time in Indiana
Well, they got sick of Mitch Daniels in DC and he ran back to Indiana with his tail tucked in! He decided to run for governor and the republicans jumped at it. His good buddy, the prez, even came thru here to tell folks what a great governor he would make. That coming from somebody who has lied and screwed up the country more than anybody else in history should have been a clue to most folks. But oh no, they voted him into office. Our first repub gov. in many a moon. Now after a year of him in his favorite role as Lil Napoleon, people are good and sick of him. He refuses to negotiate. It's his way or the highway! Speaking of which he has rented out a highway to foreign powers. What is it about republicans that they are so anxious to hand our country over to foreign folks?!
Back to Mitch. He ran around Indiana in a sweater and a trailer gladhanding. He ignored the people in Indy. He wanted to be out thar with hiz kinda folk! And he was - just as back country as they wanted to be. He ran law after law thru the legislature! But his big thang - no, not that! If he has it, it ain't big! - that thang that got him on the map was the time change. Now Indiana has had several different time zones since Heck was a pup! It didn't bother anybody. Well, if truth be told, it bothered a few people, too few to bother with! They agonized that people in California or New York were too stupid to know that Indianapolis was not on DST, and cried that nobody knew what time it was in Indiana! Hell, we knew and that was all that really mattered!
Previously whenever anybody mentioned the time change, the folks in the legislature got out their guns! There would be no time change! The entire state rose up in anger. Hey, having ten different time zones worked for us, and fuck anybody who didn't like it! Last year "The West Wing" even did a show ridiculing our time. They had several of the president's staffers trying to catch up with him, but missing him at every stop because the times were different. We laughed and got a kick out of that, but we wuz not about to change no time! But Himhellself got the time changed!! Now everybody is mad cause the time was changed! It's daylight until 10 pm. Parents say they can't make the kids go to bed when the sun is out! Everybody and his mammy is out at all hours of the day and night. Of course at 8 a.m. it's still dark outside! But Himhellself got what he wanted! Did Hoosiers get what they wanted? The man is a pistol! He's yall's dawg!
End.
Back to Mitch. He ran around Indiana in a sweater and a trailer gladhanding. He ignored the people in Indy. He wanted to be out thar with hiz kinda folk! And he was - just as back country as they wanted to be. He ran law after law thru the legislature! But his big thang - no, not that! If he has it, it ain't big! - that thang that got him on the map was the time change. Now Indiana has had several different time zones since Heck was a pup! It didn't bother anybody. Well, if truth be told, it bothered a few people, too few to bother with! They agonized that people in California or New York were too stupid to know that Indianapolis was not on DST, and cried that nobody knew what time it was in Indiana! Hell, we knew and that was all that really mattered!
Previously whenever anybody mentioned the time change, the folks in the legislature got out their guns! There would be no time change! The entire state rose up in anger. Hey, having ten different time zones worked for us, and fuck anybody who didn't like it! Last year "The West Wing" even did a show ridiculing our time. They had several of the president's staffers trying to catch up with him, but missing him at every stop because the times were different. We laughed and got a kick out of that, but we wuz not about to change no time! But Himhellself got the time changed!! Now everybody is mad cause the time was changed! It's daylight until 10 pm. Parents say they can't make the kids go to bed when the sun is out! Everybody and his mammy is out at all hours of the day and night. Of course at 8 a.m. it's still dark outside! But Himhellself got what he wanted! Did Hoosiers get what they wanted? The man is a pistol! He's yall's dawg!
End.
Hello!
Welcome to my blog! You are in for a treat! You will read and savor some of my wonderful writings and chapters from Ebony's book! I might also comment on our governor as well as the jerk in the big house! And you know who I mean. Welcome again! Let's do it!!!
