Blasts from the Past

Any time I receive a package in the mail I get a little giddy, especially if the package isn’t expected. Double bonus giddiness if the return address indicates the package is from a good friend. Triple that giddy feeling when my friend, Flo, is the sender.

In the past, Flo has sent me hilarious cards and quirky books of poetry, so I couldn’t wait to open her newest correspondence. True to form, Flo shared some great stuff.

The card made me laugh out loud:


But the treasures behind the card are blasts from the past:


This brochure on food freezers didn’t have a copyright date, but I’d place it in the late 50’s to early 60’s. Look how happy the model appears displaying her frozen peas! 

On page 4 of the brochure there’s a tutorial on how to wrap foods for freezing. I have questions: What’s a stockinette, and how have I lived without one for all these years?


Oh! On the next page I found the definition:


This little book has some excellent charts for novice and experienced freezer users. And even as I giggle at the vintage photos and verbiage I know I’ll consult these charts in the future. 


Also in the package from Flo was this little gem from 1966:


Is she plotting to kill her lover with a quick spoon to the jugular? Is that jar a receptacle for the resulting blood? Did Marlo Thomas pose for this artwork?


Yes, you too can be envied and appreciated for your food preserving skills. Yes, you might even receive applause! 

Again, even as I’m giggling over these I’m seriously daydreaming about the applause and accolades.

Crowd of Admirers: Ooooh! Ahhh! Bravo! 

Me: (blushing): Honestly, it was nothing! I just whipped up thirty quarts of pickled beets and nine pints of cactus jelly while simultaneously juggling twins on both hips and swinging from a crystal chandelier so my hard working husband can concentrate on the manly chores I’m unqualified to perform. All while wearing a starched white apron over a chiffon gown with my dainty feet balanced on three-inch heels. 

Because, I’m a woman!

https://g.co/kgs/LyVu11
Thanks, Flo! 

Trump’s Personal History with Immigrants

Another great piece! Read more at alotfromlydia.wordpress.com

alotfromlydia's avatarA lot from Lydia

We are all guilty of hypocrisy at some point in our lives on some level. I have been guilty of it in my parenting. While I never pretended to have been a paragon of virtue, my children do not know the scope my youthful transgressions. I’d rather be a role model they can aspire to emulate than have them see my experiences as validation to make the mistakes I made. I’d rather not have to say- do as I say not as I did. It is my flawed parenting style.

If we need another example of a role model of hypocrisy, Donald Trump comes to mind. The immigration policy he has set into motion under the guise of “they’re taking our jobs” is do as I say not as I have done on a grand scale.

We all know by now Donald Trump’s mother was a Scottish immigrant. She was…

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The Handmaid’s Tale: Not a Review

I’m rereading Margaret Atwood’s novel, The Handmaid’s Tale. This post-apocalyptic novel is absolutely chilling in light of all this abhorrent trump administration holds dear. 

I swear the first time I read the book many years ago I didn’t get all the ramifications. Now, they’re hitting me right between the eyes. If you’ve never read it, I cannot recommend it highly enough.

Peace and vigilance, people.

Sophomore Year

In 1973 I was a sophomore at Floydada High School in Floydada, Texas. I know this because as I was cleaning out a closet today my yearbook from that year fell from one of the top shelves and landed on my big toe. I cursed. Loudly. Then of course I had to sit for awhile and thumb through this piece of vintage gold.

This is my class photo. I was a plain child and obviously something of a snob. Look at my disdainful expression:

“Let them eat cake!”

I was also thin enough that if I turned sideways all that was visible was my nose. Man, I loved that belt:

Cyrano de Bergerac with the coolest belt in the history of belts.

That’s me with a tenor sax in my hands. I could play passably well, but never could match the others in my section.
There’s that nose again. At least it made me a standout.
I think this one was taken of our Future Teachers of America group.
Not a bad photo of me. I learned early on that I didn’t have a good side.
I adore this one because it pictures most of my closest friends from high school.

Okay, I’m through resting my toe. Back to work.

Peace, people!

Snapshot #122

The lush coleus creates a lively pattern. Let’s call this one, “I’ll Take Five Yards of That Fabric.”

Caustic Creatures

They burn, these harsh words,
Scalding souls and hearts and minds.
Cauterize the wounds!


Affection withheld,
Absence scalds the heart that’s left.
Denies gravity


Your scorched earth tactics
Only make hearts grow fonder
For an unscarred love.

Snapshot #121

Studly Doright took the day off work today so he could get in a practice round of golf before a big multi-club championship this weekend. I accompanied him around town this morning and learned something important. That’s why I call this one, “So That’s How He Shaves Strokes Off His Game!”

Calling Home

Mom weighed next to nothing as she lay dying; the hospital bed displaying the decreasing

Pounds like a stopwatch ticking off seconds. I couldn’t take my eyes off the digital

Readout, like maybe if I concentrated hard enough the numbers would reverse themselves.

One twenty seven would read one seventy two and the cancer cells would be rubbed out like

Misspelled words on a fourth grade composition. Little pink eraser dregs lingering,

To be brushed away by pudgy fingers. The marks still visible, but inconsequential. A week 

After she died I dialed her number to relay a student’s amusing comment about 

The complexity of simple machines, but realized after the third ring that I’d lost her forever.

I could not concentrate enough or erase fast enough to bring her back, to hear her voice. 

Ajax, Psycho Dog From Hell

I had a dream about this dog last night. Damned Ajax. Worth reblogging. Enjoy.

nananoyz's avatarPraying for Eyebrowz

Studly once brought home a dog from work, having offered to care for it for a co-worker. You can imagine my, ahem, delight when this large, white, furry ball of frenetic energy entered our home for the first time, jumped on my lap and began slobbering on my face. He then bounced about our living room like a demon dog on steroids, snapping at invisible enemies and licking anything that moved.

His name was Ajax and he really was a beautiful dog. His coat was a glossy white and his eyes a vivid blue. We thought perhaps he might be part Husky. According to his owner he was really smart and knew multiple commands. In Spanish. The only words Studly and I knew in Spanish were of a base nature, and they certainly weren’t words one would use to control a dog. His ears did perk up to phrases such…

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