A Bunny Story

Once upon a time there was a man who was peacefully driving down a windy road. Suddenly, a bunny skipped across the road and the man couldn't stop. He hit the bunny head on. The man quickly jumped out of his car to check the scene. There, lying lifeless in the middle of the road, was the Easter Bunny.

The man cried out, "Oh no! I have committed a terrible crime! I have run over the Easter Bunny!"

The man started sobbing quite hard and then he heard another car approaching. It was a woman in a red convertible. The woman stopped and asked what the problem was.The man explained, "I have done something horribly sad. I have run over the Easter Bunny. Now there will be no one to deliver eggs on Easter, and it's all my fault."

The woman ran back to her car. A moment later, she came back carrying a spray bottle. She ran over to the motionless bunny and sprayed it. The bunny immediately sprang up, ran into the woods, stopped, and waved back at the man and woman. Then it ran another 10 feet, stopped, and waved. It then ran another 10 feet, stopped, and waved again. It did this over and over and over again until the man and the woman could no longer see the bunny.

Once out of sight, the man exclaimed, "What is that stuff in that bottle?"

The woman replied, "It's harespray. It revitalizes hare and adds permanent wave."

Family, the Tie that Binds, even on Facebook

I saw today that Facebook now has 500 million users now. And to think that the genius behind all of this is 26 years old. I've got clothes older than he is. I've been on it about a year now. My children are on it and I have quite a few friends on it as well. I even found my ex-husband on there. No, we are not friends. Not in this life or the next either. But I have met some nice, interesting people.

Anyone who is on Facebook has probably had the urge to check out an old friend from school or someone they have not thought about in years. I remember searching for an old high school friend. He's a priest now. I still find that hard to believe. I looked up my maiden name to see if I found anything. There were lots of them but I doubt any were related to me. That would have been quite a find. I only have one uncle left on that side. My father had four brothers and one sister. Through them I ended up with eleven cousins. It's sad to say but if I ran into to any of them I doubt I would know them at all.

The other day I had a sudden urge to look up the name of a cousin. She was six months younger than I. We spent many school summers together in New Jersey. My grandfather lived in New Jersey as did my uncle and aunt. My mother and I used to drive up from Alabama for a couple of weeks each summer and occasionally during Christmas breaks from school. My cousin and I were both only children. She had red hair. I sill remember cutting off her pig-tail. We got into a lot of trouble over that episode.

I put her name into the search. Imagine my surprise when I actually found her. She still has red hair. I knew instantly that was her. We lost touch many years ago and I haven't seen her since the early 70's. So now we are Facebook friends. After chatting with her I even discovered the my aunt and uncle are still alive. That was a surprise. My cousin said she would have them e-mail me. Thanks Facebook. I thought that tie was forever broken, but the family ties still are there.

Addiction or There's an App for That

Ok, I admit that maybe I need to go into a virtual 12 step program to get me off "Farmville". I got on Facebook last year. Now I find that I have to see what is going on each day. And I thought Twitter was bad! I was addicted to that too. I even had TweetDeck which chirped every time a new tweet came in. My grandsons kept asking where were the birds.

This year I started playing "Farmville" a little more. Last year I didn't really do too much. Now it is serious business. I have to work my crops and do all the work around my farm. Sometimes I get the help of arboritists or farmhands. Mostly it is me who has to do all the harvesting. Oh, and I can't forget the co-op either. Jeez. Who know that simple games could be so addicting. You can apparently get "an app for that" for just about anything including Facebook games on any "smart phone." There is even one which will "analyse" a baby's cry to tell you what is wrong.

I find myself thinking every day that I need to go back to writing. Then I have the urge to see what is going on at my farm or my Hotel City, or my Social City, or my Mafia Wars, or Pet City, Happy Aquarium, etc... Get my drift?? I am beginning to think my life revolves around the games instead of real life. On the other hand, sometimes the games are more fun. I don't have an app for that on my phone... can't play games in the car. Of course the cops would not take too kindly to that anyway.

I used to laugh at people I knew who spent a better part of the day playing games instead of doing housework or cooking or anything else for that matter. Then I wondered what would happen to me if I didn't have the ability to play these games? Oh dear, can I stand one day without them? Uh...well, aw come on, just one game! Maybe the fun will wear off soon. Oh crap! Last time I looked my crops were 98% ready to be harvested. Can't let them go to waste. Gotta get thos coins so I can make my farm bigger. Sigh. And so it goes. There's gotta be an app...for quiting. Right?

For Those Who Have Ever Golfed

A man went to the confessional. “Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.”

"What is your sin, my son?” the priest asked.

"Well,” the man started, “I used some horrible language this week, and I feel absolutely terrible.”

"When did you use this awful language?” asked the priest.

"I was golfing and hit an incredible drive that looked like it was going to go over 250 yards, but it struck a power line that was hanging over the fairway and fell straight down to the ground after going only about a hundred yards.”

"Is that when you swore?”

"No, Father. After that, a squirrel ran out of the bushes and grabbed my ball in his mouth and began to run away.”

"Is that when you swore?”

"Well, no. You see, as the squirrel was running, an eagle came down out of the sky, grabbed the squirrel in his talons, and flew away!”

"Is that when you swore?” asked the amazed priest.

"No, not yet. As the eagle carried the squirrel away in his claws, it flew toward the green. And as it passed over a bit of forest near the green, the squirrel dropped my ball.”

"Did you swear then?”

"No, because as the ball felt it struck a tree, bounced through some bushes, careened off a big rock, and rolled through a sand trap onto the green and stopped within six inches of the hole.”

The priest signed, “You missed the putt, didn't you?”

Shadows on the ceiling

The other day I was upstairs in the bedroom when I noticed shadows moving on the ceiling. Big deal, right? Of course the dancing of the shadows was a result of the tree limbs at the front corner of the building. It was a breezy day so the limbs were swaying to the song of the wind. The window curtains block the sunlight but not the motion of the shadows of everything from the neighbors walking into or out of their place or that tree. It is really in a bad place because the branches rub along the wall and gutters at the corner of the building. Quite annoying to those who live there.

I don't have to listen to the rustling of the leaves or the scraping of the branches along the walls. I had not really paid much attention to the shadows made by the tree though. That is until I decided to lie down on the bed because I had a headache. A couple of aspirin and a nap should cure the problem I thought. I soon forgot about the headache because I noticed the movement on the ceiling. The tree limbs were bending in the breeze, but from my vantage point the picture on the ceiling looked like giant legs of a spider. Almost like a nature video the "legs" moved up and down, stretched and curled just like any good spider.

For a moment I thought I was watching one of those old 50's horror movies. The giant spider is about to devour the building! Run for your life! Each leg seemed to move independently of the others. Slowly, they reached out to grab an imagined prey. Is this spider ever going to get the unsuspecting victim? Or are the legs waving to others to signal that the take over of the world has begun? I couldn't help but watch all of this. Ah, well so much for a wild imagination...

Wonder How Long It Took?

Gotta love Spring. Flowers, weeds, bugs all come forward. If you like the time of year, you may like watching things. I do. I've always liked to watch things grow and see flowers bloom, especially if I grew them.

Occasionally I find myself watching and wondering about nature. Yeah we all have seen the fights between mockingbirds over the "ladies". I accidentally ran into a dove's nest a few weeks ago. "Excuse me - didn't mean to bother you". Even birds can give you "that look". Looking at butterflies I wonder about their colors and in some cases how far they flew to get here. Any vegetable garden is witness to crawling creatures foraging for food so they can move on to butterfly-hood. I have watched them chew their way through leaves or try to hide in among like colored leaves.

Then one day I watched a small green caterpiller moving along to what it hoped to be a good place to transform into that butterfly. At least I hope he was thinking. But the funny thing was he was inching along and trying to dine on a green sponge. Did he not think it was a little tough to chew? Never mind that the sponge color did not blend well with his body. Hum... It seemed to take a long time. I wonder how long it took for him to figure out that he was not crawling along a leaf? Was the taste, or lack there of, a clue? Or did a hungry bird grab him as a tender tasty bite first? I guess I will never know, but I wonder if he ever figured it out in time?

Biblical Theme Songs

Noah: "Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head"
Adam and Eve: "Strangers in Paradise"
Lazarus: "The Second Time Around"
Esther: "I Feel Pretty"
Job: "I've Got a Right to Sing the Blues"
Moses: "The Wanderer"
Jezebel: "The Lady is a Tramp"
Samson: "Hair"Salome: "I Could Have Danced All Night"
Daniel: "The Lion Sleeps Tonight"
Esau: "Born To Be Wild"
Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego: "Great Balls of Fire!"
The Three Kings: "When You Wish Upon a Star"
Jonah: "Got a Whale of a Tale"
Elijah: "Up, Up, and Away"
Methuselah: "Stayin' Alive"
Nebuchadnezzar: "Crazy"

Finding Jesus...

An old drunk stumbles across a baptismal service on Sunday afternoon down by the river.

He proceeds to walk into the water and stand next to the preacher. The minister notices the old drunk and says, "Mister, are you ready to find Jesus?"

The drunk looks back and says, "Yes, preacher, I sure am."

The minister dunks the fellow under the water and pulls him right back up.

"Have you found Jesus?" the preacher asks."Nooo, I didn't!" said the drunk.

The preacher then dunks him under for quite a bit longer, brings him up, and says, "Now, brother, have you found Jesus?"

"Noooo, I have not, Reverend."

The preacher, in disgust, holds the man under for at least 30 seconds this time, brings him out of the water, and says in a harsh tone, "My God, man, have you found Jesus yet?"

The old drunk wipes his eyes and says to the preacher, "Are you sure this is where he fell in?"

The End of the Journey for My Lady

We all have best friends. They are always with us to cheer us or comfort us. They never question or fault us. My best friend of nearly 14 years was that way. She couldn't speak as you or I can, but boy could she express herself! She had four legs instead of two, but to me she was just as human as any other member of my family. Sometimes I thought she had better since than they did.

But now she was old and tired. She had seen many things happen during her life's journey. I tried to convince her to hang on just a few more days. But that was not to be. Lady had walked many a mile on her short legs. I remember when the kids went to get her so that she could be a member of the family. I laughed when she nervously crawled into the arm of Traci's school jacket because she was scared of riding in the car. I still remember the day she chased one of Pat's friends down the hall because she did not like him. As it turned out she had the right opinion of him.

Somewhere there are pictures of her. I'll have to dig through boxes to find them. Traci, Annie, Pat and Amanda have all been caught by the camera with Lady. So many times they all looked guilty...even Lady. Now there are grandchildren who are forever preserved in time with her. Cheyanne was the first to be "pictured". And of course Brad, Aryn, Skylar and Michael did too. There is even a picture of one of Brad's friends asleep on the couch with his arm around Lady. Lady tolerated it all. Sometimes she seemed to say, "Not again!"

Lady learned to work the system. Just how many times did she beg to be picked up into the beds with the kids? And how many times did she wait for the kids to come home only to pee on the carpet, floor, or bed in excitment? She was always happy to see the kids and grandkids.

She was not really happy to welcome Daisy. Lady made sure Daisy knew who was in charge. "It ain't you, kid" she told Daisy many times. Lady was truly the Grand Dame of the house. Even when she was introduced to Rowdy who she though of as just another "subject".

But over the last few months Lady began to feel less and less like bothering with any of us. As long as she could stay in her chair covered by her blanket she was happy to be left alone. But I began to notice that time was short. She began to lose weight and became more and more listless. Then she quit eating. Dachshunds usually only live 10-15 years. My first, Peanut, lived to be 14. Daisy is now 5 and Rowdy 10. Lady was 13. As the days past, I began to wonder how much longer I would have Lady around. Would come home from work to find that she had died? I really didn't want that. Should I put her down? She wasn't in any pain or suffering. What to do?

I decided to keep her comfortable and wait. We came home Tuesday evening to find her lying on the floor. She did not want to move. I knew the end of the journey was near. I hurried with supper and dishes. Then I picked her up out of her chair,wrapped her in a blanket and held her in my arms. Her breathing and heart rate were erratic and she seemed to have drifted off into a coma. Her eyes were glazed over and I knew her time was near. Even Daisy and Rowdy seemed to know. Instead of bouncing round from chair to chair, they stayed quiet and watched over her. We went to bed a little after. We took Lady in her blanket with us and put her on the bed. Daisy and Rowdy stood guard. A little after mid-night Lady's journey ended peacefully.

Rest in peace little Lady. Thanks for being part of our family. Long live the Grand Dame. See you on the other side someday.

God, Please Send Me Money

Little Johnny wanted $100 for a new bike and prayed for two weeks, but nothing happened.

Then he decided to write God a letter asking for the money. When the local postmaster saw the letter addressed to “God, USA,” he decided to send it to the President of the United States.

The President was so impressed, touched, and amused that he instructed his secretary to send the little boy a $5 bill.

Little Johnny was delighted with the $5 and wrote a thank-you note to God. It read: “Dear God, thank you for sending the money. However, I noticed that for some reason you had to send it through Washington, D.C. As usual, those crooks deducted $95.”

Walking Through a Mine Field

The other day as I tended to the care of Dylan and Jade, I walked into their bedroom to see what was going on. They had been playing in there a while. As usual there were toys every where. So I decided it was time to clean up the room. They were not interested in helping. Snacks were their primary concern. So we went to the kitchen to find suitable snacks for them. While they ate I went back into the bedroom to survey the damage.

As I stepped back into this room I was startled to hear a noise. The tv was on but that is not from where the noise came. Apparently in my quest to enter the lair of the children I had stepped on a toy. In the process it had decided to do what toys do best, make enough noise to really irritate any adult within ear-shot. That is when I thought "walking around in this room is like walking into a mine field". Toys littered the floor, the beds and spilled out of the toy box which was in the closet. There are all sorts of dolls, guns, cars and other toys which when prompted by some sort of activity make all sorts of noise. Usually these are in the hands of the small children when they do this. But sometimes they lie in wait for an unsuspecting adult to bump into, step on, or pick up. It is then that all Hell breaks loose. A "laser gun" will suddenly emit a red beam of light along with a "Star Wars" type of sound which makes me wonder what it would be like to use such a weapon in real life. Or a battery operated race car will take off running, or a least the wheels will spin wildly. Jimmy Johnson's car should have such power! Or worse yet an especially annoying doll will lament "I don't feel so good".

Of course when trying to clean up this room, the toys all have to start the noise at the same time. But finding the toys can be a problem. The floor is littered with toys. Toys spill out of the toy box at will or hang precariously at the edge. Every time a toy from the floor is tossed into the box another jumps out and poses a problem for any one near. Of course none of these toys seem to have an off switch either. At times, walking into or around the room really can be an assault on the ears, feet or ankles. There should be hazard labels on the door. "Caution, enter at your own risk". I don't know how many times I have tripped on some toy that was lying peacefully quiet until I stepped on it. And just wait till the kids decide to either look for a particular toy or start throwing toys at each other.

I think I may have to request "Hazardous Duty Pay". After all walking into a child's room or attempting to clean it is dangerous work. You just never know if an Iron-Man mask is going to start giving orders, or a remote controlled car makes a run for it.And don't forget the tiny metal cars that become missiles when launched by a four year old. Mine fields do exist, especially in kids' rooms.

A Place to Rest

I go by this place several times a week. There seems to be activity almost every day. Yet it seems to be quiet and peaceful almost every day. The grass is always green and the trees provide shade and a nice place for the birds to watch over every person who goes into the place. Sometimes during the day there is a large tent where many people gather to remember. Other days I will see a hole being dug or covered up with care. The ground is always clean and the grass is well manicured. Many flowers are brought there frequently by families. These flowers and other tributes are a constant reminder of someone who was loved.

Yes,it is a cemetery. All the headstones face the road traveled each day by hundreds of people, maybe even thousands. Do those that pass notice? Do they pay attention when they see people gathered as a loved one being buried? I don't know if anyone pays attention to what happens at this little place. But it does seem to be busy. Almost every day I see some kind of activity going on here. I guess you could use the old joke and say "people are dying to get in there", but there is much more to it.

If the headstones could talk, what would that say to each other? "Nice to meet you"? to a new addition? Or maybe "I've been here a while, you'll like it here"? Maybe even, "Hey, I like your design"? Or maybe they would just take note of all the traffic as it goes by every day. Would they wonder why nobody has come by to see them or put fresh flowers out for them?

I don't know how long this cemetery has been there. It seems to stretch far into the back. Some of it can barely be seen from the road. I've always been curious about cemeteries. Ghoulishly to some, I've always wondered how old a place like this it. What was the first grave there? How long ago? Who was that person? Is there a history there? Is someone important or famous laid to rest there?

I guess for most people a place like this is where they hope to be one day. I'm not much for that. I'd rather be cremated and save the land. But for others I'm sure there is a sense of security that they will ultimately find peace there in their own place to rest.

Hymns by Word Association

A minister decided to do something a little different one Sunday morning.

He said, "Today, in church, I am going to say a single word and you are going to help me preach. Whatever single word I say, I want you to sing whatever hymn comes to your mind."

The pastor shouted out, "Cross!" Immediately the congregation started singing, in unison, "The Old Rugged Cross."

The pastor hollered out, "Grace!" The congregation began to sing "Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound..."

The pastor said, "Power." The congregation sang "There Is Power in the Blood." The Pastor said, "Sex." The congregation fell in total silence. Everyone was in shock.

They all nervously began to look around at each other, afraid to say anything.

Then all of a sudden, way from in the back of the church, a little old 87-year-old grandmother stood up and began to sing "Precious Memories."

Saint Who? Paddy What?

What is all the fuss about? Green beer and green rivers. Why does everyone want to be Irish? Me I could care less. Other than the opportunity to drink a bunch of beer and eat corned beef etc, big deal. Yeah, I'll drink a few beers with ya but I don't care if the beer is green. People wear green so they won't get pinched. Pinch me and somebody is libel to get slugged.

I lost the joy of being "Irish" for a day a long time ago. My ex-husband was what I liked to call a "Professinal" Irishman. He insisted that we all wear green. He was downright nasty if we didn't. He had an "Irish" temper too which we all bore the brunt of on occasion. Too many occasions to suit me. Even though his last name was an obvious one, his family did not come from Ireland. Mine lived in Ireland at one point though, before they moved on to Scotland and France.

Didn't St. Patrick chase snakes out of Ireland? Ok. What about the guys who do rattlesnake roundups here? Why don't we have a party for them? What color should we make the beer?

So to all the "Irish" I say "Top O the Morning" to ya. But I'd rather wear a Scottish kilt thank you.

When Sex in the City Meets Wild Kingdom

They walked into the room. Candles were lit giving the room a warm glow as they shimmered on the bar. Bath water had been drawn and was shining with bubble bath. Red rose petals were scattered on the bed. Champagne was chilling in a silver bucket.Soft music played in the background. Everything was perfectly set for the lovers tryst.

His strong arms engulfed her as he kissed her ruby red lips. Piece by piece their clothes fell to the floor. The lovers were oblivious to anything but each other. As they sipped their champagne they gazed longingly into each others' eyes. Their caressing touches fueled the fires of their passion. After the last drops of the champagne were finished they stretched out their naked bodies on the golden colored satin sheets. So sensuous they felt.The lovers joined their bodies in hot passionate love which consumed them both. Nothing would stop their pulse pounding love-making. Hours faded away as they caressed every inch of their bodies as they pleasured each other.

Unnoticed by the lovers were the others. In the heat of the lovers passion the audience awaited patiently for them to finish. The audience looked at each other as if to say, "If we did that they'd be mad." The three dogs just sat there,careful not to give themselves away. After all it was better than watching re-runs of "lassie". Finally. The lovers were spent. They could do no more. It was then the couple noticed the audience. Quickly the dogs discussed the lovers dance. Len, the old, grouchy dog, Carrie Ann, the young free-spirited one and Bruno, technical minded, but funny put their heads together. Finally they had come up with their scores. They eat help up their signs with the scores. Carrie Ann "10", Bruno "10", Len "9". Total score - 29 out of 30. A gold metal performance of the dance of love. After the scores were revealed, as if on cue, the dogs jumped of the bed and ran back into the living room. They grabbed some dog food and ran back to their rightful dog places in the quiet of the late night. Carrie Ann climbed into to her chair, Bruno jumped onto the sofa and Len the old grouch crawled into his spot and covered up so no one would see him. All is well.

Just Another Day of What the Hell...??

Child care can be fun or it can be exasperating on any given day. Sometimes the kids say or do things that make you think or snicker at their logic. Then there are the tv programs which entertain the kids and sometimes annoy adults. PBS has some very good cartoons which cleverly teach words, colors, numbers, reading and math concepts. There are other channels which feature cartoons with interesting music. I wonder how many parents know that some of that music is classical. Chopin would be so proud.

I've long since gotten over Sponge Bob though I still don't understand the concept of a talking sponge wearing clothes who lives under the sea and his friend Patrick. Then there is the "Barnyard" cartoon which I had to look at several times to make sure I saw what I saw. I realize that television programing for children can take a stretch of the imagination for adults to watch but... So there is this family of cattle complete with parents and children. They are just like any average family. Mothers take care of children, run the home and teach the children while dads go off to do the manly jobs. But why do both the "lady" cattle and the "men" cattle have udders? I had to stop what I was doing to make sure I had not missed something. But the kids don't seem to mind at all. I, on the other hand find it a bit disconcerting to see a "cow" with a male voice doing chores.

Then there are on some channels the frequent commercials trying to sell mom or dad on the latest toys for the kids. I remember when all dolls did was just, well nothing. You posed them and changed their clothes or brushed their hair. Some dolls had houses and furniture. I played for hours with my doll house. Then came the baby dolls that talked. They still sound weird to me, even now. Oh but toy makers and children wanted more. So they made dolls that had to be fed. So where did all that stuff go after the kid fed the doll forty-seven times a day? Guess what? Next we have to have the baby pee and poop so they have to have a diaper change. How many mothers have bought extra diapers for those dolls?

But the real what the Hell moment is when I discovered Barbie had a dog that she has to potty train. Huh?? I saw a commercial which had a cute little doggie lifting his leg on a little "pad". There was even a little "pee" which wet the training pad. But wait, the puppy has to be trained to poop on the pad too. Oh joy! When I saw that commercial I did not know if I should cringe in disgust or laugh at the thought of a young child "potty training" a toy. And just how much does this little "gotta have" toy cost anyway? And what about the extra training pads for when little Fido misses or his human uses them all up in two days. Then what?

What is next on the horizon of popular toys and tv shows for kids? Hey Carly - what will you do when you grow up? "I love you, you love me...". Oh shut up Barney! I need a cup of coffee.

Jewish Country Songs

* Honkey Tonk Nights On The Golden Heigh lo

* I Was One Of The Chosen People ‘Til She Chose Somebody Else

* Stand By Your Merch

* I'm Crying In The Manischewitz

* The Shikoas Gonna Hit The Fan!

* Four Thousand Years Of Sufferin' And I Had To Go And Marry You

* Eighteen Wheels And A Dozen Latkes

* You've Been Talkin' Hebrew In Your Sleep Since The Rabbi's Come To Town

* You Picked A Fine Time To Leave Me Schiemiel

* Yippee Ko Yi Oy!

There Are No Words

I enjoy blogging and reading friends' blogs. I've been occupied with other things lately. I've been working part-time watching kids. One is in school and the other two and just 3 and 2. It never ceases to amaze me how fast they can get into something. So last week you can imagine my surprise and sudden sorrow when I checked on my blog friends only to discover that one of my oldest and dearest friends had died.

There are no words to describe how I felt.It is true we are, in the grand scheme of things, only here for a short time. I just wished had just a little more time with Dr John. I enjoyed his tales of Pigeon Falls. But now the trains have stopped. The residents there are quiet. The storyline has been cut short. Where will they go, what will they do. Nobody could tell a story like Dr John.

I remember his little comments to me on my blog as well as his "leave a comment" and other little "contests" he had to keep us motivated. Such an imagination he had. I actually won a couple of his contests. One prize was a tiny ceramic figure of two cardinals on a bare tree in the snow. Now that is a very special treasure for me.

How do you find the words to describe how much someone touches you? I never physically met Dr John, but he touched me. I never looked into his eyes but I saw God's love there always. When I was happy, he made me laugh. When I was lost, he always knew how to find me.

Over the years of my life I have had people come and go. I would like to think I have learned something from them. I know I learned from Dr John. Peace be with you my dear friend. It was my honor to know you. Thank you for being you.

Your Packages are Here, Oh Wait They're for Me.

Every day is different. It's another chance. Sometimes it's good and sometimes not. And if you go back and think about the year before...well. Take last Valentine's Day. My son and his girlfriend took me to lunch. He gave me two roses. Last year said "Don't read anything into this" and gave me a book. This year he didn't give me a book.

"Your off Friday? That works out great! I've got three packages coming. Can you stay home and make sure they are delivered?" I said sure. It never entered my mind to even think what those three packages might be. He called me a couple of times during the day to ask it the packages arrived. "No, not yet." I said. Finally late in the afternoon after he had gotten home from work there was a knock on the door. Of course the three dogs went nuts. Guard dogs? No. Nosy, yes. I figured that it was his packages so I grabbed the dogs and tried to get them out of the way.

"Jill, it's for you..." he said. Just try wrestling with three dogs and answer the door. And how did he know the door was for me, anyway? So I open the door to discover a delivery person standing there with a big vase of a dozen red roses. Uh, for me? Oh and there was also a teddy bear and a box of chocolates. Click! Now, I see the light. The three packages were not for him but for me. Sneaky. Seems he had ordered all of this on-line. Sneaky. As much as I love to read, I'll take roses any day!

I will also never turn down Sunday morning breakfast made for me complete with a heart in the center of the plate. And I didn't have to wash the dishes either. Later we went to Fry's to drool over computers. A 1 terabyte hard drive sure would hold a lot of music or other stuff. Sigh... While there he decided to buy me a new mp3 player. So I picked out a nice blue 8 gig one. That's 2000 songs I could put on it. That's a lot of music, even for me. So far I've only put about 200 on it. Now I have to decide what else I put on it. A little country, a little rock and roll ( no Donny and Marie jokes here), Eagles, George Strait,Asleep at the Wheel, Rod Stewart. Billy Joel, etc. Now I have to figure out what else... Barry, Dave Koz, Nora Jones, Willie Nelson, Wynton Marsalis, Straight No Chaser, plus some old standards. Plus now I can add more of my jazz friends and some classical without driving other people nuts.

I'll be happy to answer the door if I can get roses.

Mozart Beyond the Grave

When Mozart passed away, he was buried in a churchyard. A couple days later, the town drunk was walking through the cemetery and heard some strange noise coming from the area where Mozart was buried.

Terrified, the drunk ran and got the priest to come and listen to it. The priest bent close to the grave and heard some faint, unrecognizable music coming from the grave. Frightened, the priest ran and got the town magistrate.

When the magistrate arrived, he bent his ear to the grave, listened for a moment, and said, "Ah, yes, that's Mozart's Ninth Symphony, being played backwards."

He listened a while longer, and said, "There's the Eighth Symphony, and it's backwards, too. Most puzzling."

So the magistrate kept listening; "There's the Seventh... the Sixth... the Fifth..."

Suddenly the realization of what was happening dawned on the magistrate; he stood up and announced to the crowd that had gathered in the cemetery, "My fellow citizens, there's nothing to worry about. It's just Mozart decomposing."