Another Year

 Time Passes By

Time certainly does have wings.  Another New Year's Day is quickly approaching.  The past year has been a roller coaster ride, but I think the older we get, the higher the hills and deeper the valleys.  True blessings have been health, happiness, and the continued wonder of seeing the world through the eyes of my grandbabies.  Their wonder at the world around us continally makes me stop and see the world afresh.

Daisy and Dolly continue to be constant and abiding friends, accepting the addition of an additional "master" in the form of my husband, Mark, right in stride.  Wouldn't it be lovely if people were as accepting as most dogs are?  They tend to see people through the lens of "good" and "bad," not "different."  They really don't care what color the hand is that pets them or feeds them.  They only care that it is gentle and reliable.

My true concern for 2010 is what I consider to be the misdirection in which our country is heading.  If I weren't a history teacher, I might not be as concerned, but if we are to learn anything from history, it is that the major civilizations of the world usually fell victim to corruption from within.  Big government take over of the private sector should be a concern for all freedom loving Americans.  The colonists revolted for far less tyranny than we are facing and ACCEPTING today from our own government.

I honestly believe we have too many voters who feel they are entitled to "things" (read hand outs) from the government and look to the government for their livelihood.  We are rapidly breeding liberty out of our very existence.  I believe that illegal immigrants should be sent back from whence they came and the government should stop providing them with education and health care.  I believe that the only rights Americans are entitled to are life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness (without the government telling us what happiness we are entitled to)  I don't want to take anything from anyone that I didn't earn and I don't believe anyone else should either.  The government is crippling independence and we are sitting back and watching it happen.  I shudder to think how history will look at this period of immense government spending and the legacy of debt we are foisting upon our children and children's children.

I don't care what color the President is.  What I care about is the lightening speed with which this administration is converting my America into a socialist/fascist state.  What I care about is the "legalized prostitution" my congressmen are engaging in with pork barrel rewards and vote buying.

I hope 2010 brings sanity to Washington and a slow down of this massive government expansion and "take over" of capitalism and the economy.

Daisy and Dolly are definitely socialists.  They are all about entitlements, especially if someone else is buying!!!

Everything Old is New Again

                                       One of my childhood dolls from the mid-late 50's

I like old things.  More than that, I like to restore old things to their former beauty.  I've always adored antiques of any kind, perhaps because I grew up with "old" furniture.  I didn't realize at the time that most of what my mother had in the way of furniture was "antique."  I simply thought we were too poor to afford new things.  Lately, I've adopted an affinity for vintage dolls.  My mother faithfully kept several of my childhood dolls and I inherited them when my mother downsized her home to move to Laurel Village, the assisted living facility.  I enjoyed cleaning and restoring them to their former selves, which was quite a task, considering I had loved them well and sometimes a little too hard as a child.  I played with them, slept with them and wept when I couldn't locate them at bedtime.  Sometimes there would be as many as twelve dolls and a rather large teddy bear in the double bed that I shared with my older sister.  Needless to say, she wasn't thrilled with all the company in the bed and sometimes enjoyed harassing me by throwing them out of the bed one at a time until I was worn out from retrieving them and we would both fall asleep with the intentions of out maneuvering each other.

There is something about the smell of a doll that brings back childhood memories.  I always associate Christmas with the fresh vinyl smell of a doll brand new out of the box.  It is a smell that cannot be duplicated and which many little girls over the decades have come to recognize, love, and associate with Santa Clause and Christmas morning. Christmas could not be Christmas without a bright, beautiful doll waiting under the tree for me, and there ALWAYS was.  My mother, I'm sure,  always derived as much joy from selecting dolls for Santa to give to us, as we did in the receiving of them.  She took black and white pictures of my sister and I with our dolls standing in front of the Christmas tree, dressed in our Christmas finery, or sometimes early on Christmas morning, in our  PJ's, with our bedraggled hair straggly and sleep clinging to our excited eyes. There are pictures of drink and wet dolls, big bald headed baby dolls, China head dolls, bride dolls, and several I have yet to identify.

I now keep an eye out for vintage dolls that I can restore.  I find them at thrift shops, thrown helter skelter among the cast off toys of later generations.  I find them at Good Will Stores, hiding among the later era, more commercial blank staring dolls. I find them most often on EBAY, from sellers auctioning off pieces of the past and making a buck off other people's childhood memories.

Perhaps I'm trying to recapture my childhood.  Perhaps I want to revisit, just for a moment, a happier, less stressful time before adult responsibilities were a constant of every day life.  Perhaps, I just want to catch a whiff of those vinyl Christmases when mama and daddy were still alive and excitement was the order of the day.

One thing I do know for certain, Daisy and Dolly would know exactly what to do with a vintage vinyl doll.  They would sniff it, too.....just before they devoured it.

Vintage Ideal Doll
                                                           Ruthie, before and after

On the other hand, Dolly does have a tendency to think of herself as a real doll.  I think she is, like her master, quickly becoming a "vintage doll."  Years do roll by.  Once a doll, always a doll is what I say.

                                                                            My Dolly

Football from a Dog's View

Vols

Smokey



I'm a Kentucky girl. I know Wildcats and Big Blue Country Basketball and still remember the many thrills of watching Rex Chapman, Sam Bowie and Richie Farmer swishing the net at Rupp Arena. I married a Tennessee Volunteer. I decided early in the game not to hold that against him. After all, in all other respects, he is as sane as the next man, and has a great heart. I know it isn't a black heart. It is as orange as a pumkin.

Football reigns supreme in Tennessee. Down here, they believe girls play basketball...ergo the Lady Vols, their national title dominating Ladies' Basketball team. I haven't quite convinced anyone here that Basketball is also a national championship MEN's sport.

I've never really looked good in Orange. It makes me look sallow, but I have to say that Neyland Stadium has a definite orange ambiance. It reminds me somehow of a huge, pulsing living, breathing Jack-o-lantern, ripe for the madness that erupts when that Big Orange machine comes charging out of the bowls of the orange stadium, running through the orange Pride of the Southland Band, followed by orange cheerleaders and orange dance team members and all the peripheral orange members that make up the inner sanctum of the Volunteers.

Most of the time, my eyes travel immediately to "Smokey," the Blue Tick Hound that is Tennessee's mascot. Smokey doesn't care that most of the spectators seem to think life and death can hinge on the outcome of any particular football game, whether the opponent be Western Kentucky or UCLA or Georgia or Florida or even my own beloved Kentucky. All Smokey cares about is getting to charge up and down the sidelines or run across the end zone following one of those all important touchdowns. Smokey is just happy to be there. I can only imagine what he must be thinking during the game, and I wonder how often the urge to charge the field and chase that pigskin enters his doggie brain. It is, after all, his natural instinct to chase and fetch. He must wonder why he isn't allowed to chase that ball, since everyone else on the field seems to be allowed to. Be that as it may, I can't help but be infused with enthusiasm for the game when I happen to glance at Smokey and see him dancing on the sidelines, eager to join the fray and happy to be part of that Big Orange Hullabaloo.

I like football. I like UT Football. I will be a fan...right up to the point in time that UT plays UK. That's when my blue Wildcat colors will come out and ours will be a house divided. I wonder what Smokey thinks about the mascots that accompany other teams. Somehow, a human impersonating a wild cat doesn't carry the same "uumph" as a living, breathing canine mascot.

I think Daisy and Dolly would love to go to a UT football game, but their interest would end when the tailgating goodies are packed away. They are so obvious in their love of creature comforts. They might even give Smokey a second glance; he is, after all, a fine, masculine canine specimen, but unless he came bearing steak bones as gifts for them, those Kentucky Divas would probably not give him the time of day, mascot or not.