Monthly Archives: October 2009

Tonight’s the night Happy Halloween!


Why did Junior Honeybee fly around wearing his sister’s bra scaring everyone Halloween night ?

He was a BOO BEE!    boo bee

That’s my kind of humor….corny, groaners. If you haven’t seen it before I bet you reacted the same way.

When we first moved to this house, many kids used to trick or treat on Halloween night. My son looked forward to Halloween for weeks. Part of the reason was dressing up. The other reason, he LOVED candy.

I’d take him around to a few houses near our house and my neighbors always made a big deal out of who he could possibly be. Our division has had a Halloween party almost since the first houses were built fifty years ago. When he was a little older, we went up to the party where the fire fighters hosted the event. There were hot dogs and all the trimmings and games for the kids to play. The big thrill of the night was riding on the fire truck.

About that time the big scares about razor blades and poisoned candy occurred so he dressed up in his costume and I would take him to the local mall where sales clerks dressed up and stood outside their stores to pass out candy to the kids. He enjoyed dressing up and going around well into middle school. Then in high school he went to parties.  There were a couple of years I took him to one of Fort Worth’s Haunted Houses and one year we went to Six Flags Fright Fest. He is a Halloween junkie. The love of appearing in costume still has not left him. Last year he and his friend attended a party  in Japan. They dressed as pirates.

Nate and Yoko pirates                   Yo Ho HO!

Between the party and the malls, the number of local kids coming to the door gradually dwindled to a trickle. For a while, adults loaded up kids in trucks and brought them around from place to place. I was prepared for the neighborhood kids, but I was not prepared for the deluge of car after car after car that happened for a couple of years.

My neighbors  are growing older and have retired. There are few little kids left. Those that are left mostly are home schooled and do not celebrate Halloween for religious reasons. Their churches favor Fall Festivals instead. Now, most of us all turn out the lights and sit in the dark for a couple of hours. There haven’t been ANY trick or treaters now for three or four years.

While I was still handing out candy, before the hoards came in the cars, I had for several years more candy left than I handed out. Then I ran out the first hour. I was never good at judging how much to buy. I finally gave up and joined the lights out neighbors.

When I was growing up, I lived up north. Many Halloween nights were just too cold to go running around trick or treating. I can remember doing it, though, so there must have been a few years when we roamed the neighborhood. Those were the days neighbors were not afraid to give us apples or pop corn balls. Mrs. Goetze lived across the street from me. She always invited us into her kitchen where she had a spread laid out for the neighborhood kids. Pop corn balls and home made decorated cookies, I think I remember cider.  She was part of the fun.


Our school also hosted a Halloween party. The teachers herded us  into the gym in the afternoon to watch movies like ” Bud Abbott and Lou Costello Meet Frankenstein” . In the evening, we returned to the gym in costume and competed for prizes. In  sixth grade I wanted to go and didn’t have anything to wear. I was always pretty much on my own as far as concocting a costume. I went upstairs to my closet and chose my oldest clothes.

I took a pair of slacks and a skirt and cut them in half then sewed the two pieces together. I braided my hair on one side and combed it back on the other. I put lipstick and rouge on half my face. That was the year I went as Jack and Jill. I thought I was being clever. I didn’t win any prizes though.

Tonight’s the night once again! It’s the time for ghosts and goblins and all manner of spirits to roam the earth. I haven’t been to the village party in years. I’m thinking of going up there if it isn’t too cold to see if the kids are still having as much fun as I remember my son having. It will probably be quieter up there than in my own home. The driver of the fire truck usually blasts the siren twice, once by the side of my house and then again when he rounds the corner and is still in the front of my house. Hearing that blast about twelve times in one night is nerve wracking.

Maybe its time to rejoin the party. My neighbor has a grandson she took to the village hall last year. Maybe I’ll claim him as a grandson too so I have a reason to go up there too and tag along. As far as I know all the ghosts are friendly and all the unearthly spirits are just visiting from the cemetary two miles down the road. At least I hope so. One of my friends told me last week that the house on the corner where he lives a couple of miles away has an occupant ghost. I don’t want to take the chance that one follows me home so I’ll be careful. You be careful out there too, y’hear? Happy Halloween! Namaste. Attic Annie

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Make your parents feel old, dress up 80s style

Good morning. I’m willing to bet that there will be a lot of youngsters and adults dressing up for Halloween in the fashion of the 80s. A month ago I wrote a blog about 80s fashion. So far people have hit that blog 575 times, most of those in the past couple of weeks. People have been searching for “80s make up” and “80s hairdos”. My blog, “Mosquitoes and 80s fashion” comes up for those two searches.

Dressing up in garb of decades past is a lot of fun for kids. Thirty to forty years ago seems like ancient history to the kids of any decade. When I was trick or treating age,we really didn’t pay that much attention to fashions of the past. It was too much trouble to go to the library to do research. Now all kids have to do is type in a few search terms and everything is right in front of them on the screen.

20s flapper

When I was in high school, the big decade was the 20s. That decade was popular for high school floats and themes for school dances. I think we concentrated on the 20s because the 30s with its depression didn’t make for very happy memories. The 20s had barnstormers and jazz, gangsters and prohibition. It was a great charleston headbanddecade to “remember”. Women “flappers” wore short skirts, smoked using long cigarette holders and “bobbed” their hair. Dance marathons were popular. Women wore headbands . The Charleston headband was very popular when dressing up to go out into the city to have a good time. That’s a wealth of material for costumes.

Flash forward to the 80s. The kids of the 00s view that decade as ancient history. That is the era when most of their parents were young.

How would they dress up to look like someone from the 80s?  Well, first there would be the hair.

spray wigpurple wigmulletjersey girlpunk rockermaterial girlwomen's groupiesalesgirlrock

Once the hair style is chosen, we then choose the make up.

make up 1                        make up 2       

 Last of all we choose the clothes.

General types of clothing

1. Cross Colours clothes
2. afro-centric clothes
3. neon/fluorescent clothing and stuff
4. Miami Vice fashion
5. (early) Madonna fashion (i.e. Madonna wannabes)
6. patent leather
7. stonewashed denim
8. checkerboard clothing (flannel shirts and pants, etc.)
9. Esprit clothes
10. New Kids on the block clothing
11. Ocean Pacific clothes
12. bright colored clothing
13. T&C (Town & Country) clothing
14. Vision Street Wear
15. pastel colors
16. punk fashion
17. RUN DMC Adidas suits
18. tie-dye/hippie fashion
19. wearing too much jewelry
20. Flashdance fashion

Shirts, Jackets, Etc.

1. green scrubs
2. Fido Dido t-shirtsSeeking Susan Fahion Image
3. Hypercolor shirts
4. Spuds Mackenzie t-shirts
5. British flag t-shirts
6. Gecko t-shirts
7. “Frankie Says Relax” t-shirts
8. tank tops
9. ID# shirts
10. Jimmy Z shirts
11. 1-800 flourescent pink shirts
12. shirts with collars turned up
13. shirts with long flaps in the back side
14. Izod shirts
15. Vuarnet shirts
16. Ron Jon Surf Shop shirts
17. t-shirts tied at one side
18. shirts with sleeves ripped off
19. shirts with French writing on them (i.e. L’Universitie de Paris)
20. Panama Jack shirts
21. Coca Cola shirts
22. Gotcha shirts
23. “Choose Life” shirts
24. horizontally striped shirts
25. button-down Oxford shirts (especially in pink)
26. white shirts with long colored sleeves and iron-ons
27. sweater vests
28. monogrammed sweaters
29. off the shoulder ripped up sweats
30. Members Only jackets
31. big winter coats with sleeves that unzipped
32. denim jackets
33. denim jackets with lots of pins
34. denim jackets with lots of buttons/gemstomes
35. denim jackets with lots of heavy metal patches
36. bolero jackets
37. CB brand jackets
38. Michael Jackson jackets – red, vinyl with lots of pockets
39. leather coats with fringes
40. jelly jackets
41. bubble jackets and vests

Pants, et. al.

1. Underoos
2. thongs
3. bubble skirts
4. striped miniskirts with legwarmers (like Pat Benatar)
5. jams
6. skidz
7. legwarmers
8. overalls
9. Lycra bicycle shorts
10. Bugle Boy pants
11. military fatigue pants
12. parachute pants
13. leather pants
14. corduroy pants
15. Rubgy/Rugger pants
16. leopard skin tights
17. cargo pants
18. stirrup pants
19. Sweet Orr Pants
20. pinning pants
21. two tone denim pants (black in back, gray in front)
22. Levi’s with the white patch on back pocket
23. E.J. Gitano jeans
24. Jordache jeans
25. Guess jeans
26. Sassoon jeans
27. Gloria Vanderbilt jeans
28. Chic jeans
29. Zena jeans
30. Z. Cavaricci acid-washed jeans
31. acid washed jeans
32. ripped jeans
33. stone washed jeans
34. bleached jeans
35. pleated jeans
36. jeans with paint splatters
37. French-cuffed jeans (often worn with short socks and deck shoes)
38. pegged jeans
39. spiked jeans
40. jeans with high heels
41. tight jeans with zippers on bottom of legs
42. loose jeans safety pinned at the bottom

Footwear –

1. Balloons shoes
2. Doc Martin shoes
3. Espadrilles shoes
4. Vans tennis shoes
5. sebago shoes
6. deck shoes
7. China flats
8. high-top sneakers
9. high waters
10. Converse sneakers
11. Roos sneakers
12. Zips sneakers
13. Pumas sneakers
14. Pony sneakers
15. L.A. Gear sneakers
16. British Knights sneakers
17. double mismatching socks
18. slouch socks
19. dress socks with sneakers
20. lace socks worn with high heels
21. big thick scrunchy socks worn over tight pants
22. velcro sneakers
23. jelly shoes
24. Jazz shoes
25. mismatched Chuck Taylor high top shoes
26. unlaced Adidas hightops with the tongue hanging out
27. moon boots
28. “cougar” winter boots (tan-colored leather with red lining)
29. fat shoelaces

Accessories –

1. bandanas
2. bandanas tied around knee area
3. G & S bands
4. headbands
5. terrycloth headbands
6. banana clips
7. roach clips with feathers worn in hair
8. caps with the short bill flipped up in front
9. Panama Jack hats
10. charm necklaces
11. candy necklaces
12. Charmkins (jewelry that are also toys)
13. plastic clip on charm necklaces
14. thin gold chains
15. plastic charm necklaces
16. Stopwatches as accessory
17. narrow [leather] ties
18. long metal earrings
19. big earrings
20. spiked belts, wristbands, arm bands,etc.
21. telephone cord belts
22. skinny belts
23. magnetic belts
24. chain belts
25. brass/silver nickname belt buckles
26. bullet belts
27. Michael Jackson mirrored glasses
28. Back to the Future glasses (Pizza Hut promotion)
29. polariod sunglasses
30. Glacier glasses
31. Zany Zappers
32. Swatch watches
33. pop swatches
34. Takara Transformer Robot watches
35. slap bracelets
36. friendship bracelets
37. bangle bracelets
38. jelly bracelets
39. leather bracelets with spikes
40. gloves up to the elbows and full of holes
41. Michael Jackson glove
42. Freezy Freakies gloves
43. Lee Press-On Nails
44. Jordache purses
45. Sportsac purses
46. Adidas bags
47. Esprit bags
48. pop-beads
49. friendship pins
50. iron-ons
51. twist-a-beads

Take your pick. Everything old is new again. If you don’t have your costume yet and retro 80s is your theme, head to the nearest Goodwill or consignment shop. You’ll probably be able to whip up a reasonable costume in a very short time. Or, just head to the department store. Supposedly, the 80s were so much fun, the styles are coming back again!

Happy Halloween! Material Girl, salesgirl, punkrocker, rock star, mullet head. Take your pick.


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Living Independently Alone

Good morning. Mornings on the front porch are getting fewer in number. Come up to my attic where it is warm and cozy. We’ll chat for a spell.
I was going to talk this morning about living by myself. I googled that phrase and the first one listed was this. Actually, he said most of what I was thinking to say.

Books Were My Friends

Books Were My Friends

I’ve been living by myself most of my life. While I was growing up, I spent the time at home in the care of a housekeeper, because my mother died when I was three. The housekeeper was busy most of the time doing housekeeping things, so, when I was in the house during the day, I was mostly alone.

I was often ill as a child with colds, allergies, and asthma attacks which didn’t allow me much time out of doors. I had to learn to entertain myself. I would play for hours with dolls. Most of them were my sister’s hand-me-downs, but that didn’t bother me. By second grade I was reading fluently. I often had a book with me. My dad let me have a subscription to the Weekly Reader’s Book Club. It was always a thrill when a new book came in the mail. The rest of the books came from the pitiful collection of school room “libraries” in the corner of each room. Each teacher had to scrounge around for books so the size of the libraries vaired.There was no room to be had for a full library in the school. Every room in the school was occupied. As a result, I think I read every volume in every room before I left that builiding.

When I was eight and in third grade, my father finally relented and bought our first televison. I spent hours at a time watching that. Pinky Lee, Howdy Doody, Kukla, Fran, and Ollie, Captain Kangaroo, the Lone Ranger, Superman, all of these people became my friends but I didn’t live with them.TV

At night my father, sister, and aunt came home. We ate supper together. It was not a time of family togetherness, however, because my father listened to the six o’clock news every night and there was no conversation at that time without an admonition of “Shhhhhh!” . After supper my sister often disappeared doing older sister things like going to her room, hanging out at friends’ houses or dating. My aunt stayed in the kitchen with her hot tea and cookies before retiring to her bedroom with the door closed, and dad took  naps on the couch or went to a meeting. He was on the board of the local bank and in the church’s Brotherhood.

My sister went away to college when I was in seventh grade. The housekeeper quit when I reached high school, so it was just the three of us after that.  I was even more alone.

My freshman year in college I was assigned a room with a sophomore who had her own set of friends. We seldom saw each other during the day. The only thing we shared were the bunk beds. I can’t really remember being in the same room with her that year more than a very few times. My sophomore year, I was assigned a roommate who had never lived away from home. She lasted a couple of months and then was so homesick she moved back in with her parents, leaving the room to me. I had one other roommate that year for nine weeks as part of her rotation, but again we didn’t do anything together. My junior year, different room mate, same story. Her schedule was very different from mine. Then I moved back home when I dropped out of college for five months. Same story. Dad, my aunt, and me. The next year my dad died, leaving my aunt and me. By that time I had my own social life so we basically shared the house at night to sleep. I moved away from home for good when I was twenty-two.

I had a couple other roommates in the next few months, but the pattern repeated itself. We each went our own ways. Then a childhood friend moved away from home and in with me when I needed a roommate to share the rent. We ended up living together for six years before I married. Once again, our schedules and social lives were different so we seldom spent time together.

By the time I married, the “aloneness” pattern of my life was set. I found a man to marry who was a traveling salesman during the week. When he was home, he went into his “mancave” to do his paperwork, or hung out at a bar, so once again we didn’t spend much time together during our entire marriage.

My son moved away for good over nine years ago and I have had the house completely by myself for all that time. It never used to bother me, but in the last year I have come to feel the house is just too huge. That’s why I’m trying to sell it and at least downsize.  I’m not having much luck.

At church on Sunday I talked with a neighbor who asked if I ever considered renting a room. I sometimes fantasize about turning this house into a “golden girls” abode, but I wonder if I would be comfortable doing that.

After so many years of aloneness, I don’t know if I could take other people living in this house, especially retired women who don’t have much more to do than I do and just hang around for days at a time. I guess I’d have to make sure they were busy during the day and could leave me alone. I love having my son come home, but to tell the truth, after a week I’m just about ready for him to move on again.

I saw a cartoon the other day. An older man was proposing to his “girl”friend. She said, “Of course I love you and want you to be part of my life, but not 24/7. I gues that’s how I feel too. I’d like a companion but not around me many hours during the day and not every night.

Even my dog Ri-Leigh is much like I am. When I first got her, she would not even go outside by herself. Now she prefers to stay outside all day and once in a while she even refuses to come in at night. Maybe if I had roommates like that, I could get used to living with someone else again. In the meantime, most of the time I am alone, but I’ve learned I’m not lonely. Hopefully, there won’t be a time when I am forced to change. If I have to change my lifestyle, I hope I am able to do it voluntarily and willingly.

Y’ll have a nice day now. Namaste. Attic Annie


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Good bye and thank you, Clara


Good morning. It’s a sad morning for me. Yesterday my cousin sent me a notice that one of the influential women in my life had died. I tried last Christmas to get in touch with her and was unsuccessful. It took several phone calls but I was finally able to obtain her telephone number. She had moved to an assisted living facility. I called her, but there was no answer. She was not in her room. I never had another opportunity to call her before leaving.

By the time I got back home to Texas, I had misplaced the phone number. I tried calling the facility, but due to privacy laws, they could no longer confirm that she lived there, even though I knew she did. They wouldn’t even take a message to tell her that I had called, because that would acknowledge that she was a resident there.

This woman was a guidance counselor in my high school. When I was having so many problems my senior year, she was there for me. We kept in touch since then for forty-five years. Every time I went back home, I always tried to call her. We would meet for lunch with an older distant cousin of mine who worked at the high school with her. She always made it very clear that she was interested in my life. I was able to talk with her about everything. I was so proud the day I was invited to her home so she could see my baby boy.

Three years ago she no longer answered her phone at her house. Last year I played detective and was determined to track her down. That’s how I got her number. It was disappointing that I was unable to talk with her, but then I was thinking about going home again this Christmas so I figured I’d be able to track her down again. Now it is too late.

Counselors in high school have very little time in most schools to spend time with individual students. She wore so many hats. She was the type of woman who never had a serene moment while at work. She hit the school running in the morning and was still full steam ahead when the students left at 3:30. I was fortunate that she made time to see me individually that year. It was only a couple of times in her office but it gave me hope that somebody cared during that troubling year. She even asked me for permission to call my father to discuss with him my concerns. I don’t know if it did any good or not because, as I have said several times, my father and I really didn’t communicate. But at least she was willing to become involved, and she showed concern for what I was going through.

She had only turned forty when she started working with me. At that time of course she was ancient. Now she no longer seemed that much older than I. I never knew her age until I read her obituary this morning.

She tired out everybody who knew her. She was a tiny woman, but mighty. She epitomized the ideal of caring and giving to others. She belonged to ten different community organizations and I’m sure she was much more than just a name on a list. She was one to become involved. She thrived on involvement. Once she retired from public school, she started volunteering as a counselor at the Catholic high schools in town. It was a whole new experience for her. She was involved in Girl Scouting for most the time I Girl Scout Thanks Badgeknew her. She earned the Girl Scout Thanks Badge. This award is given only once to recognize exceptional service that benefits the total council or the entire Girl Scout movement. She was given the Tom Connor Award from the Chamber of Commerce. This award goes to a community volunteer who has worked diligently to make a difference in the community. One last award given to her was the  J C Penny Golden Rule Award.

J C Penny

J C Penny Award

Some think of the Golden Rule Award as the community service equivalent to the Pulitzer or Academy Award. Named after James Cash Penney’s first store (Golden Rule Store, opened in 1902), the Award program began in 1982. The Golden Rule Award recognizes that the good accomplished by nonprofit organizations would not be possible without caring volunteers. The program rewards individual volunteer efforts through recognition, and helps set an example to other community members.

When I was home last year I was told that she almost died but I wasn’t told when. She related that she saw her beloved husband, Joseph, waiting for her in the light, and she was overjoyed at seeing him again. That was one of the first times I heard that she was angry, although I would not be surprised if she used anger in her quest to make a better world. At that time she was ready to go. It would not diminish my opinion of her by any means. She had very high standards for herself and appreciated those who rose to her level. She couldn’t understand why she was jerked back to earth where she lasted I guess at least two to three more years.

That was my friend, Clara. She was one of those shining beacons in the community who believed in doing rather than just talking about it. To my knowledge, she never let any of her accomplishments make her head swell. I would not be surprised to hear she was still serving others when she died.

I was fortunate to have known her. The angels will be delighted that she has come home. God bless you, Clara. I know S/He is happy to see you close up and personal just like you kept God in your heart all these years. Good bye, Clara. Namaste. Attic Annie

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Typing Class and Summer, 1960s Style


Howdy! Boy it would be nice if we could have a balance of rainy and sunny days. Are you old enough to remember “Rainy Days and Mondays” by the  Carpenters? It’s a double whammy when Monday is the rainy day. Today is getting me down. I just emailed my cousin and told her that nothing was moving in my brain today. My brain is feeling as constipated as the rest of me sometimes gets. On those days I kind of do stream of consciousness writing until I hit on a topic I really want to discuss.


typing classIn high school I took a typing course during the summer. The instructor was a former business school teacher who conducted classes in her basement. It was something to do to break the monotony of small town lazy days. It was kind of an introductory course for those with no typing experience, but it was a good preview of the course I took for credit the following year as an elective for an easy ‘A’.

We got to the point where the instructor gave us an assignment to type an essay. I don’t remember if she gave us a word count or not, but at the time it seemed like she was giving us a big job. We had a week to do it. It was warm weather time and my mind was not on writing, so I kept putting it off.

Now mind you, the content was not going to be graded. We were completely free as far as the topic went. The purpose was just to be able to type that long of a paper and set it up correctly. She wanted to see if we could use the tab, shift key, punctuation marks, etc. We had to know how to set the margins and double space. Keyboards on typewriters were much simpler back then, but we still had to show mastery. If you are too young to remember typewriters, maybe the course today is called “keyboarding”.

I messed around until it was the afternoon before it was due, and I still hadn’t gotten a clue as to a topic. Finally, I forced myself to sit down at the dining room table where I placed the portable typewriter. Fortunately, she had accrued enough portables for everybody in the class to be able to carry the typewriters back and forth the three blocks to her house since I didn’t have a typewriter of my own at home.

Like I’m doing today, I sat down and just started writing. I related what I had done all week that kept me away from the assignment. Monday this happened, Tuesday I had to…..and so on. I got through the whole week and ended up the last two sentences by apologizing for not being able to do the assignment because I didn’t have anything to write about. 

The paper was supposed to be double spaced one page, I believe. By the time I finished, I think it was closer to two pages.

I handed it in. She must have laughed at that paper for years. Now, I don’t mean in a derisive way because she wasn’t that kind of a teacher. She was actually one of the women in my life who was very kind to me. I basked in her attention and wanted to do well for her. She just thought it was pretty clever of me to be able to come up with an essay  like that. It was actually well typed, as far as I can remember. I had fulfilled the assignment without actually saying anything.

She and her husband are still living in the same home town. They finally moved to another home a couple miles away from that house, but as far as I know, they are still both healthy and active. When you are young, you think everybody over thirty is ancient. I don’t know how much older she was than I am, but I’m guessing she may still be in her seventies. The older I get, the younger that sounds.

I’d love to forward this to her, but I’m not ready yet for my hometown to know I am doing this blogging. I may want to touch on some subjects that I’m willing to tell the world, as long as few people know the real person behind it. Maybe I will, maybe I won’t, but I’m reserving that right to hide for the time being. Not that I’m sure anybody in my home town would ever see it, or read it, or care. Not that I’m sure anybody other than a few distant relatives would know that at one time I actually lived there. Most of the good people I remember in my childhood are no longer living or have moved away to bigger places.

There are days that I get a lot of hits but nobody sees the blog of the day. Last week I had two days in a row that I had over 300 hits but not a one on those two days’ topics. Go figure. I have a cousin who seems to be interested in what I have to say. It didn’t even register that she had logged in. That’s the time I have to remember that I started this blog as an electronic journal without the anticipation of anybody really reading it.

Anyway, I think the typing teacher would be tickled that fifty years later I’m still able to sit down when I can’t get my brain to work and end up an hour later with a finished assignment without having said anything.

Thanks, Mrs. E, for the typing lessons if you ever read this. Your time teaching that class that summer has served me well for the past fifty years, and if you will notice, I was able to do the whole “assignment” once again without really saying anything.

God bless and good health. Namaste, Attic Annie

Oh, and thank you, Sue, for the encouragement you give me by claiming you need your daily blog fix. I have no idea if anybody else out there is reading me on a daily basis, but as long as I know you are for the most part, that’s enough to keep me going.

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Hill Billy Wisdom

Good morning. I have decided to recyle a few of my earlier blogs. I didn’t have very many readers when I first started out.

Good morning. I love October weather in Texas. I don’t have to spend money at the carwash this week. All I have to do is drive. Tomorrow is supposed to be sunnyagain. I saw in the paper that we  are expecting a colder, wetter winter than usual thanks to El Nino. If all the rain we’ve gotten lately is any indication of things to come, maybe the prediction will prove correct.
A friend of mine sent me the above video in an email titled “Hillbilly Genius”. It was intended to be laughed at and a put down, but I don’t always see humor the way other people intend.
In fact, I thought this demonstration was really quite clever. I’m all for whatever works.
I guess people have always had a yen for making themselves feel superior to others. The “rednecks” and “hillbillies” and “white trash” certainly do live in a manner that often makes it easy to look down upon them. My email from time to time contains pictures of shoddy (by middle class standards) attempts to “make do”. We are supposed to laugh when we see these pictures.
Actually, I often see the effort behind these creations as an attempt to make do in often dire circumstances.
I watched the Red Green show occasionally a few years ago. Many of his skits can still be found on You Tube. Now granted he performed his show as strictly comedy with his inventions and did not intend to be taken seriously. But I think underneath his comedy was a message that most Americans have either never learned or have forgotten. That message is that sometimes, out of necessity, it is imperative that we “make do”. I heard the phrase, “It’ll make do”, many times during my childhood. We recycled long before it was fashionable to do so. Clothes became quilts and rag rugs. Sheets became bandages. Dolly Parton sang of her coat of many colors and many of my classmates could identify with that song in some way.

When I was growing up we had so little trash that our family of four only had one can of garbage a week to set out for pick up. Now it is not uncommon to see homes with two or more cans out twice a week to be emptied into the truck. Back in the 50s and 60s we weren’t so ready to use once and pitch. There were actually repair shops. The television repair man used to come to the house at least once a year to replace tubes. Now we have “planned obsolescence” where it is less costly to buy a new device once it becomes out of date or broken than it is to have it repaired.
Although I feel empathy for the poor and always have, the families I feel more sorry for are the middle class families where jobs have been lost and the families have no idea what it means to “make do”. They have no clue as to how to get into a survival mode mentality.

Our national unemployment rate is now 10%. That means there are a lot of families out there that are thrown into the same economic classification as those of whom they used to make fun, albeit, probably not permanently. Many of them can’t even begin to have a clue as to how to survive. It will take a while before they learn as Dolly sings, “you are only poor if you want to be”.

I have a dearly beloved friend who often speaks of her difficult childhood growing up in “hillbilly country.” She talks of the many things her family had to do just to survive. Yet she DID survive as do countless others from the same area where she grew up. She and her family knew the value of creative thinking and “making do”. In these troubling economic times people like that are much more blessed than those who grew up with a “use once and toss” mentality. Enjoy the videos. If you are in the market for computer workstations and chairs, think like Red Green. “Make do”. Y’ll have a blessed day now, y’hear? Namaste Attic Annie


Filed under Casual conversation, economics, family, humor, life, musings, Uncategorized

You’re Not Worthy! Oh yes I AM!

I am not worthy

I am not worthy

Good morning!” I AM NOT WORTHY!” When I would hear other people, usually women, speak in such a manner in church referring to God’s love and acceptance of us, it would make my skin crawl and I never knew why. I often wanted to shout, “YES YOU ARE! YOU ARE WORTHY OF ANYTHING GOD HAS TO GIVE OR HAS GIVEN YOU. GET OVER IT!” I never could explain why I had such a visceral reaction to that phrase. Unless I’m really unaware of my self, which could be the case, I don’t act viscerally to very much at all. I tend to be stuck in the intellect.

Let me start off by saying I am NOT a Bible scholar. If I can’t google it, I usually don’t know it. I have found three examples of people saying they were unworthy: the Centurion who wished for Jesus to heal his servant, John the Baptist who felt he was not worthy to untie His sandal, and Jacob who asked for help with Esau. Jesus also says that (my interpretation) if you choose family over God,” you are not worthy of me”.

Perhaps it is just me, but it seems those who say they are not worthy, do so from a deeper sense of unworthiness of receiving in general.

I mentioned how I felt about such a comment in my philosophy class Wednesday night. The instructor said, “Perhaps you react that way because of something inside of yourself. Do you have feelings of unworthiness?” I felt my face start to color. The question brought on a visceral reaction.

ZAP! Epiphany! Light bulb over the head time!

I have until several years ago been under the influence of what I learned about me as a child and a wife…my family members reacted to me in a way that I interpreted as being unworthy of being helped, paid attention to, loved. I had just turned in a paper an hour earlier on the topic “What keeps me in bondage?” I discussed my learned helplessness. I have demonstrated all my life how unworthy I felt I was of the gifts people would give me, the help they would offer,  or the compliments I would receive. I always felt if  I left the room nobody would ever notice, or if they did, they would say, “Thank goodness.”

In spite of my reactions to other people, it never occurred to me to feel unworthy of God, although I was never much into praying anything other than “God is great, God is good…” and when I was really young, “Now I lay me down to sleep”. I don’t ever remember a time when anyone sat down with me and talked to me one to one about praying. I never got into the habit of praying about what I really want in my life. I’m learning to do that more. I’m beginning to believe, “Ask and you shall receive”. This class is teaching me how to make denials and affirmations to bring about changes in my life. I just have to remember to do it.

Up until a few years ago, I never really asked myself what I wanted. I seem to have always acted upon the supposition that I deserved whatever did or didn’t come my way. I could easily describe myself as an oarless boat on the drifting waves of the ocean of life.  When one doesn’t exist, one doesn’t need much. I didn’t know that there just might be ways of bringing something into my life.

Someone else in class brought up the point that our societies tend to rear young girls in general with all the ideas that come with second class citizenship. Some sections of our culture stopped doing that several years ago, others still do. View this video on Thursday’s MSNBC Today to see a father in Peoria, AZ who wishes his daughter to follow his family values, however.World wide that philosophy is still rampant.  We learned through osmosis that we were not worthy of being treated with equality, we were not as skilled as, we were not as smart as, we were not as entitled as….the list goes on. When some of us (my fellow sisters) demanded, we were usually greeted with, “Who does she think SHE is?” or “What a bitch!” It was a major put down for someone to be accused of doing something “like a girl” and we took it in. We believed it. We were not worthy.

There is a major paradigm shift going on in the United States and in many parts of the world. Women are beginning to believe in their worthiness. I think it started with a few in the 70s but it has increased with each decade. I was watching a TV preacher one day who was talking to a group of women inmates. He said, “You were created to be  helpmates  of man.” I bristled. I thought he was saying the only reason we were created was to be a help to our husbands second to him. Old news. Of course I do believe in wives helping husbands. I also believe in husbands helping wives. But then he continued. “You were created that way because men need help!” He added, “You are not the ones who need the help. They do! You’ve got your act together.” The audience cheered.  WOW! I was hearing a preacher actually saying that? That sure put another slant on what I was hearing.

The second part of the assignment I handed in answered the question, ” Are you now able to claim your liberty?” I answered, “Yes, I am. Or at least I am beginning to be. ”

My life  has not been an easy road to travel so far, but the more I learn of the travels of other spiritual beings on this planet, the more I feel how utterly blessed I have been in my life and it is time to express my thanks. It could have been ever so  much worse. I had shelter, food, safety, an education. That in itself puts me pretty far up the list of blessed ones. By trying to stay more “in the NOW” and by not letting my past affect me nearly as much, I am learning to change into what I think is the better. I am feeling more worthy of whatever is in God’s infinite plans for me. As a child of God and His/Her heir, I AM worthy. I have placed my hand into God’s care and will joyfully receive all that is meant for me to receive. I pray that this message reaches those who once felt like I did. I hope you are able to grow like I feel I have grown.

It’s time for church. The weeks seem to be flying by since I started writing this blog. I seem to be saying that all the time. Namaste. Attic Annie

I AM worthy

I AM worthy


Filed under Casual conversation, diary, general topics, life, musings, self worth, Uncategorized