RE: Letters from Son in Basic Training! VIDEO 10-6-09 (pg 16)
I just wanted you to know that reading this story/journal has been like reading a good book. You can't wait to turn the page to see what happens next. Well, for me, you seeing him for the first time was the pay-off page! the highlight that I had been waiting for right along with you!! When you described how he turned slowly and looked at you, then grinned....I burst into tears! YES!! it was a great moment in the story and one that I had been anticipating for days. I felt like I was along with you on the plane ride, and on the long car ride. My anticipation grew at every mile going by. I was excited to finally get to the base just to know "he" was inside.
It's been a thrilling and heart warming ride!!
thank you so much for sharing with us!
I am so proud of RV.Net Milkshake!!
RE: Letters from Son in Basic Training! VIDEO 10-6-09 (pg 16)
I just wanted to write and to let you know how much you taking the time to share Aarons letters with us is appreciated! I do not have anyone in the military in my family, but I do have a 21 yo son, and I could be you if he had chosen the military.
I am soooooo enjoying the letters. Thank you so much and please keep up the updates! You should be so proud to have raised such a wonderful son! I'm proud of him and I don't even know him!
thank you both and keep those letters coming!!
Mexican party recipes?
My daughter is planning a Mexican themed party complete with a Margarita machine, and decorations. She is planning on serving Taco Salad, soft and hard tacos, and of course nacho chips and dips. We even have a 7 bean dip!
Does anyone know of any other recipes that we can make for the party that would fit in the theme and not be too complicated to make?
RE: $800 cat scratcher
update!
We went to petsmart and spent $100 on a very nice CAT piece of furniture! we bought one of those that has a carpeted bottom with a carpeted pole going up with two tiers of seats, then another pole that is solid plain wood, and finally a third pole that has the rope wrapped around it. We figured if we give them their own piece of furniture, maybe they will leave ours alone..
At first, they sniffed it because it was new, then they ignored it, and gradually they are starting to sit in the seats! I haven't seen any scratching on the poles yet...but we are hopeful!!
We also put temporarily, some small things around the leather love seat so they can't reach it easily. then maybe they will learn to ignore it and stay away.
We bought a can of "Inside NO!" suppose to spray on a rag and then wipe on furniture, but we haven't tested it yet. Also bought and put on the "sticky paws" two sided tape.
Hopefully, all this is a plan of action that will change their habits to the new cat piece and leave ours alone!!
thank you all again for suggestions. We are going to use tin foil next!!
I will try to post a pic tonight!
RE: $800 cat scratcher
ok, calm down people...I don't want this post to get shut down because people disagree. First of all, I do not believe in declawing at all. My sis is a vet tech and she said that they have alot of problems with declawed cats..they develop alot of side effects, plus I consider it barbaric also. Not an option for me.
I appreciate all the other advice. I have never heard of the Feliway, so I will give it a try. We have been using a water spray bottle as I said in my first post..but they seem to be doing this when we are not home or in the room to catch them, so I cant spray with water if I am not there. Hubby has said we are going out to buy a tall tree type of scrather for them since they seem to like to stretch when scratching, so maybe that will defer their attention away from the love seat.
Thank you all again...I will try the aluminum foil too...anything to get them used to not going near it is helpful!
$800 cat scratcher
we recently bought a brand new love seat for our family room. For the first time ever, I made the mistake of buying a gorgeous leather love seat with a wood accent on the bottom. I loved it, bought it without thinking of the cats. I have two cats, inside only, one is 8 yrs old, the other 13.
We didnt have the loveseat more than one hour when one of the cats went running thru the house like a banshee, and ran across the seat, kicking her hind feet for traction behind her. Yup, one hour old, and scratches in the new leather seats. We tried covering it with a nice comforter thinking they wouldnt hurt the leather that way, no...they just did the push pull thingie they do on blankets and it went thru the blanket to the leather...more nail marks.
I am devastated. My husband is irate. We have tried to keep the cats off the seat when we see them on it, but today, when I got up this morning, I found in the corner of the leg, one of the cats had started using it as a scratch post. Deep scrapes on the wood and leather. I just cried. They seem to do it when we are not around or sleeping since we have never seen them do this or we would stop it.
They have one of those round thingies that has the cardboard scratcher in the middle, and the ball that they can play with on the outside of it, in the same room as the love seat.
Last year we bought a new chair, cloth, and they started on that. I placed a water bottle next to the leg, and it seemed to stop because they hate the water bottle. but I have to keep it there all the time.
We also have those two sided tapes stuck to all the edges of the furniture everywhere, most of the time it works, sometimes it doesnt.
Is there anything that will repel the cats from going near the new furniture? anything we can try? my husband says we will never buy anything new again as long as we have cats, and I refuse to get rid of my cats. I love them dearly, but hate the destruction they are doing to my home.
Has anyone tried aluminum foil? does it scare them off? I am at a loss of what to do next...they are destroying it when we are not looking.
HELP!
RE: Pineapple Upside Down Biscuits
This is so good! thank you for posting it!
It is perfect for when you don't want a full blown cake, but would like a smaller version snack. It's the perfect size for my hubby and me. I made it in a 9" square pyrx dish and baked in my oven at home. It came out beautiful and will now be a fav in our home for those times when you want something sweet, but don't want to make an entire cake.
thanks again!
RE: What's the secret??
Here is a no-fail way to get perfectly peeled hard boiled eggs:
Put eggs in a pan, cover with cold water. Cover and bring to a good rolling boil. Turn off burner (I have an electric stove, may need to cook longer with gas). Let set on warm burner for at least 15 minutes. (I usually cut up the other ingredients for salads during this time.) Drain hot water, let run under cold for a few minutes. When you can handle the eggs, roll them on your counter, making sure the ends are cracked well. Return to cold water for a while.
With colander underneath to catch shells, begin to peel under a stream of cold water. The shell come right off and you have perfect eggs! This has worked for me everytime.
Interesting--I learned this from my non-cooking DIL, she and I have a good laugh every time we have HB eggs!
this is what works for me too. I boil them for two mins then turn stove off and cover for 20 mins, then rinse in cold, ice water. Peel immediately under running water. I found that if you refridgerate the eggs in the shells...they do not want to peel later. Peel them before you refridgerate them and it is much easier. oh yeah...we put salt and vinegar in the water!! works for us.
Good Luck!
RE: German Sheperds and campground restrictions
A story about how smart our shepard was...
We had a really smart Shepard/lab mix years ago..in 1981. He was about 2 yrs old, and we started having problems. He was over protective of our 2 yr old daughter, and would not let anyone near her, he even tried to attack the mailman when he walked by the fenced in yard if she was outside. We lived in the country, and often had hot air balloonists gather and land their balloons in fields near our house. The large balloons terrified our dog...the noise from the blasts of the hot air, so he would dig under the house to hide and ripped out bushes to try to get under them. He was about 100lbs and when he stood up, taller than me with my 5'4", so he got to be hard to handle. We decided to give him to friends of ours that did not have children, and had more yard for him without the hot air balloons around. We drove him about 25-30 mins from our house...somewhere he had never been before. He was very loving and a sweetie to everyone as long as we were in his sight. He loved our friends and didnt mind staying with them....or so we thought.
about a week later, we received a call from our friends that he had jumped over a 6 ft fence and was gone. They had searched and searched, and could not find him anywhere. Two days later, we found him. In OUR front yard!! wagging his tail, happy, thirsty and hungry, with some blood on the pads on his feet..he had FOUND his way back home!!!! somehow...we will never know how..he followed our car scent?? he had never been there before. It was about 1/2 hour car ride! He had never been anywhere really, but our place. All we knew was we saw him come walking into our yard, so we know he wasn't dropped off there, he walked by himself, plus the sore feet. It took him days to find us, but find us he did.
He was so happy to be home! We kept him and he lived till 8 years old..then he got sick and passed, but he was undoubtably the smartest dog we ever had. And most loyal/protective of our family.
RE: Would you pay .25cents or bring your own?
remember "box boys"?? they would box up your groceries. no bags. sometimes modern technology is not always the best way. sometimes, our grandparents knew best!
RE: Would you pay .25cents or bring your own?
I don't get this..I'm old enough to remember back when the only choice was brown paper bags or a cardboard box. We did not ask for plastic bags. In fact, hated them when they first came out! they fell over, the contents spilled out..they were tiny..but no...the stores said, "you will use plastic and like it!" eventually, enough outcry brought back some of the paper sacks and we were given a choice once again. When asking for paper, we would get dirty looks like we were the worst kind of people.
NOW...suddenly "WE" are the bad ones using the plastic bags? exuse me? it was forced on us, not a choice we made. Why don't they just go back to paper only?
What's next? getting rid of plastic garbage bags? I remember too..being a young girl and NOT having plastic bags for garbage day. We had a "burn barrel" in our yard that burned most of the trash, and the yukky stuff that we couldn't burn went into a metal garbage can for pickup. (yukky! I had to wash them out with the hose after garbage day! EWW) We didnt have plastic bags to put them in! when they came out..everyone was overjoyed!! finally, clean and neat. Now..that's wrong too..ok, I understand about the land fills and enviroment, but why is it always the consumers fault, when we didn't make the decision to change in the first place?
I'll bring my own canvas bags..(ones that do NOT advertise the stores), but how many do I need? what if I buy more food than I have bags?
I witnessed this in England when I stayed there years ago..they bring their own bags. So now..it's our turn. {{sigh}}
RE: A very old stray {The Old Fella Story}
Absolutely fantastic about the cats, and a happy ending for all..including Cy..I'm sure he would be very happy knowing ALL his furbabies found a safe and warm place to be. Praise Jesus for all the glory!
thank you for doing His work, Richard!
the statue is perfect! a lovely and fitting tribute!
RE: What's your opinion on this
I can totally relate to your story...
I had something similar happen to me about 10 years ago. My ex and I had filed a joint income tax return, when the money came back, we both signed the check, and my ex went to the bank, cashed the check. Drove back to me at my office, handed me my share of the money. When I got off of work, I drove to my bank, and deposited the cash. About a week later...I receive a letter from the bank saying that I had deposited a counterfiet $100 bill!!!! I was flabbergasted!! First of all, I put the money in thru the night deposit box, not at a teller. When they collect the money in the morning, it all goes in a pile...how do I know or does anyone know if it was from my envelope? Nothing I said mattered. The next day I got a call from a SECRET SERVICE Agent!! Seems counterfiet money is a federal offense (duh!) and he was calling to investigate this so called $100 bill. I explained everthing, and he grilled me about everything in my life! he asked whether I thought my ex would do this to me on purpose, or if I knew if he was involved in drugs...just a bunch of crap! We are a normal, middle class family that just went to a bank and deposited money in good faith!! If I was going to conterfiet money...why would I deposit it in my own account? Well, after a couple more calls, and a visit to my work for more questioning,..they concluded that I was not a national threat...(LOL) and told me that unfortunately, these things happen because the real thieves are out there and it slips by at times.. To a bank? why didn't the bank that gave out the bill catch it? It never made any sense, and the matter was dropped, but my bank deducted $100 from my account! I was out $100 for nothing! It's amazing how you can be made to feel guilty when you are innocent and have done nothing wrong. Its really scary.
RE: A very old stray {The Old Fella Story}
This is one of the nicest stories I have ever had the pleasure to read.
The Old Man and the Dog
"Watch out! You nearly broadsided that car!" My father yelled at me.
"Can't you do anything right?"
Those words hurt worse than blows. I turned my head toward the elderly man
in the seat beside me, daring me to challenge him.
A lump rose in my throat as I averted my eyes. I wasn't prepared for
another battle.
"I saw the car, Dad. Please don't yell at me when I'm driving." My voice
was measured and steady, sounding far calmer than I really felt.
Dad glared at me, then turned away and settled back. At home I left Dad in
front of the television and went outside to collect
my thoughts. Dark, heavy clouds hung in the air with a promise of rain. The
rumble of distant thunder seemed to echo my inner
turmoil. What could I do about him?
Dad had been a lumberjack in Washington and Oregon. He had enjoyed being
outdoors and had reveled in pitting his strength
against the forces of nature. He had entered grueling lumberjack
competitions, and had placed often.
The shelves in his house were filled with trophies that attested to his
prowess.
The years marched on relentlessly. The first time he couldn't lift a heavy
log, he joked about it; but later that same day I
saw him outside alone, straining to lift it. He became irritable whenever
anyone teased him about his advancing age,
or when he couldn't do something he had done as a younger man.
Four days after his sixty-seventh birthday, he had a heart attack. An
ambulance sped him to the hospital while a paramedic
administered CPR to keep blood and oxygen flowing.
At the hospital, Dad was rushed into an operating room. He was lucky; he
survived. But something inside Dad died. His zest for
life was gone. He obstinately refused to follow doctor's orders.
Suggestions and offers of help were turned aside with
sarcasm and insults. The number of visitors thinned, then finally stopped
altogether. Dad was left alone.
My husband, Dick, and I asked Dad to come live with us on our small farm.
We hoped the fresh air and rustic atmosphere would
help him adjust.
Within a week after he moved in, I regretted the invitation. It seemed
nothing was satisfactory. He criticized everything I
did. I became frustrated and moody. Soon I was taking my pent-up anger out
on Dick.. We began to bicker and argue.
Alarmed, Dick sought out our pastor and explained the situation. The
clergyman set up weekly counseling appointments
for us. At the close of each session he prayed, asking God to soothe Dad's
troubled mind.
But the months wore on and God was silent. Something had to be done and it
was up to me to do it.
The next day I sat down with the phone book and methodically called each of
the mental health clinics listed in the Yellow
Pages. I explained my problem to each of the sympathetic voices that
answered in vain.
Just when I was giving up hope, one of the voices suddenly exclaimed, "I
just read something that might help you! Let me
go get the article."
I listened as she read. The article described a remarkable study done at a
nursing home. All of the patients were under
treatment for chronic depression. Yet their attitudes had improved
dramatically when they were given responsibility for a
dog.
I drove to the animal shelter that afternoon. After I filled out a
questionnaire, a uniformed officer led me to the kennels.
The odor of disinfectant stung my nostrils as I moved down the row of pens.
Each contained five to seven dogs. Long-haired
dogs, curly-haired dogs, black dogs, spotted dogs all jumped up, trying to
reach me. I studied each one but rejected one
after the other for various reasons too big, too small, too much hair. As I
neared the last pen a dog in the shadows of
the far corner struggled to his feet, walked to the front of the run and sat
down. It was a pointer, one of the dog world's
aristocrats. But this was a caricature of the breed.
Years had etched his face and muzzle with shades of gray. His hipbones
jutted out in lopsided triangles. But it was his eyes
that caught and held my attention. Calm and clear, they beheld me
unwaveringly.
I pointed to the dog. "Can you tell me about him?"
The officer looked, then shook his head in puzzlement. "He's a funny one.
Appeared out of nowhere and sat in front of the
gate. We brought him in, figuring someone would be right down to claim him.
That was two weeks ago and we've heard nothing.
His time is up tomorrow." He gestured helplessly.
As the words sank in I turned to the man in horror. "You mean you're going
to kill him?"
"Ma'am," he said gently, "that's our policy. We don't have room for every
unclaimed dog."
I looked at the pointer again. The calm brown eyes awaited my decision.
"I'll take him," I said.
I drove home with the dog on the front seat beside me. When I reached the
house, I honked the horn twice. I was helping my
prize out of the car when Dad shuffled onto the front porch. "Ta-da! Look
what I got for you, Dad!" I said excitedly.
Dad looked, then wrinkled his face in disgust. "If I had wanted a dog I
would have gotten one. And I would have picked out a
better specimen than that bag of bones. Keep it! I don't want it" Dad waved
his arm scornfully and turned back toward the
house.
Anger rose inside me. It squeezed together my throat muscles and pounded
into my temples. "You'd better get used to him,
Dad. He's staying!"
Dad ignored me. "Did you hear me, Dad?" I screamed.
At those words Dad whirled angrily, his hands clenched at his sides, his
eyes narrowed and blazing with hate.
We stood glaring at each other like duelists, when suddenly the pointer
pulled free from my grasp. He wobbled toward my dad and
sat down in front of him. Then slowly, carefully, he raised his paw.
Dad's lower jaw trembled as he stared at the uplifted paw. Confusion
replaced the anger in his eyes. The pointer waited
patiently. Then Dad was on his knees hugging the animal.
It was the beginning of a warm and intimate friendship. Dad named the
pointer Cheyenne. Together he and Cheyenne
explored the community. They spent long hours walking down dusty lanes.
They spent reflective moments on the banks of
streams, angling for tasty trout. They even started to attend Sunday
services together, Dad sitting in a pew and Cheyenne
lying quietly at his feet.
Dad and Cheyenne were inseparable throughout the next three years. Dad's
bitterness faded, and he and Cheyenne made many
friends. Then late one night I was startled to feel Cheyenne's cold nose
burrowing through our bed covers. He had never before
come into our bedroom at night. I woke Dick, put on my robe and ran into my
father's room. Dad lay in his bed, his face serene.
But his spirit had left quietly sometime during the night.
Two days later my shock and grief deepened when I discovered Cheyenne lying
dead beside Dad's bed. I wrapped his still form
in the rag rug he had slept on. As Dick and I buried him near a favorite
fishing hole, I silently thanked the dog for the help
he had given me in restoring Dad's peace of mind.
The morning of Dad's funeral dawned overcast and dreary. This day looks
like the way I feel, I thought, as I walked down the
aisle to the pews reserved for family. I was surprised to see the many
friends Dad and Cheyenne had made filling the church.
The pastor began his eulogy. It was a tribute to both Dad and the dog who
had changed his life. Then the pastor turned to
Hebrews 13:2. "Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by this
some have entertained angels without knowing it."
"I've often thanked God for sending that angel," he said.
For me, the past dropped into place, completing a puzzle that I had not seen
before: the sympathetic voice that had just read
the right article...
Cheyenne 's unexpected appearance at the animal shelter.... His calm
acceptance and complete devotion to my father and
the proximity of their deaths. And suddenly I understood. I knew that God
had answered my prayers after all.
Life is too short for drama & petty things, so laugh hard, love truly and
forgive quickly. Live While You Are Alive. Forgive
now those who made you cry. You might not get a second time.
Thank you for posting this wonderful story! as tears stream down my face, I am thankful to my Lord once again for His love and grace, and for sending them in the form of our pets!
Beautiful indeed!
RE: Kielbasa
CROCKPOT
SWEET AND SOUR SAUSAGE
1 – 2 pds of Kielbasa or smoked sausage
1 can (20 oz) unsweetened pineapple chunks, undrained
1 ½ cups baby carrots
1 lg green pepper
Onion
1/3 cup packed brown sugar
1 TBSP soy sauce
½ tsp chicken bouillon cubes
¼ tsp garlic powder
2 tsp cornstarch
¼ cup water
Mix together first 9 items. Cook 4-5 hours. Add cornstarch and water together, then add to sausage mix. Cook on high 30 mins. Serve on rice or noodles.
is Jr. necessary?
question....if your name includes Jr. after it..do you Have to use it legally?
the reason I ask....21 years ago I did something I would never recommend to anyone.. I named my son after his father and put the Jr. on the end of his name. Well, after 5 girls, the son was a big deal to him, so I indulged him with his mini-me.
All these years later, besides the pain of hearing...big D, or little D, senior or junior? dad or son? I now find out that my son NEVER uses Jr. in anything he has done. It's not on his driver's license, not on his checks, bank account, credit card, mail, on the income taxes he filed, and now, not on his resume. He never signs anything with the "jr" at all.
I told him that Jr is part of his legal name since it is on his birth certificate, but he tells me that since the social security numbers are different, that is what seperates them.
When his new driver's license came, it had the wrong eye color and height on it. Yup, his father's eye color and height. Son says, doesn't matter since it goes by birthday and SS number.
Is he legally obligated to use the "Jr"? Will this come back to bite him later? or is it no big deal?
Please...never give your child the same name as any relative...it's a pain!
RE: TV Soaps
Soaps or "Stories" as my grandma used to call them, are no different than any other form of entertainment. It's all escapism that appeals to our voyaristic senses as we go through the journey called life. Daily, we are bommbarded with bad news, deaths, taxes and war. Does it feel good to come home, and watch some mindless show in the evenings? A show that doesn't make any sense or is even halfway close to normal life? Yes, it does. Especially as a woman, we love the fantasy of the white knight on the horse that is so romantically handsome and comes to save the day. We get that in soaps..Ok, the star of the show gets that, but we sometimes wish we were Erica Cane too!
I also like books. Are fiction books always full of truths and real life? No, they aren't, and again, the reason I love to read them.
Everything has a place and a time. We read history or watch CNN for news and to learn. I watch Discovery Health as they do the latest surgery. The National Geographical channel teaches me about places I will never see or be at.
All of this is from that box that people call the idiot box and make fun of.
To each his own. Why put down what you do not like because others do?
I don't know why anyone would ever watch or participate in the barbaric sport of boxing...but I don't complain because as they say....
Whatever floats your boat! Soaps have been around since the days of radio only. Obviously, they aren't what corrupts our society. Relax, chill out and pull up a chair. Laughter is good for the soul. :) :)
RE: A very old stray {The Old Fella Story}
Richard, I just wanted to thank you so much for going back for the kitties. With all the love they are showing you,plus some being spayed/neutured, surely they are used to humans and should be able to find homes with lovely families. My heart goes out to all those left behind when an owner gets sick or dies.
Bless you for easing the life of all the animals Cy left there, and for giving Cy peace in knowing his loved babies will be looked after and not left to fend for themselves.
The FOOF here are a loyal bunch, and we're here to help you in any way we can. Old Fella (Izzie too) would be proud!
