Connecting Past with Present

Huomautus Susi:
Vickie käyttää paljon amerikan slangia. Ei käännä hyvin Google. Virpi ja Salla lukea Englanti? Joten Hannu ymmärtää?

Yes, I am still in my non-descript dark cave in my undisclosed forest in Finn-ville, Finn-fornia, Finn-merica.  

      For the first time ever I am enclosing a photo of my cave. Only Hannu and Simo know where it is......it's a hard climb to get to the entrance but think of how safe I am!

Reasons to read my blog:
I laugh at my own jokes so you don’t have to. Sometimes I think that things are best left unsaid but my brain to mouth filter has never worked right.  People are lucky they can’t hear what I’m thinking while I'm writing. Well, actually I don’t think as I write. I like to be just as surprised as everyone else by what comes out of my mouth.  I’m just like everyone else, after all,  I put my straight jacket on one buckle at a time.

April was a great month for me!

Hannu Susi and myself - 2nd cousins who grew up 5000+ miles and oceans apart met for the first time. Second cousins - that is grandchildren of your own grandparent's siblings. My cousin, Hannu, owns and lives on the very same property that my Grandmother Hilda lived on in Ikaalinen, Finland.  The very place she had resided until she married my Grandfather, August, who came from Kuru, Finland. She was born and raised there, walked the very same ground, swam in the very same lake. Unfortunately for me I never got to meet the Grandparents who are responsible for my "Finnishness" as Hilda died in 1934 and August died in 1947, before I was born. 

I will never forget how my father spoke of them as I was growing up. With such love and respect. He would smile that little Finnish smile of his when he spoke of them. He would often  say words in Finnish, in such a low whisper, that I knew in my heart he was expressing his love to them, or how much he missed them. Words that only they could hear. My father did not display emotions often. He was a pretty stoic man, as I am a pretty stoic woman at times. My father taught me by example very early on that showing anger, passion or emotion suggest you’re not in control. My father didn't often raise his voice. This by no means I am suggesting Finns to be gentle people. Gentle people don’t play ice hockey. Hard sport. He believed if you raised your voice, you would immediately lose authority and credibility.  If you lost respect you lost the argument. My Dad was not a big talker either.  He didn't bore you with bull shit talk.   When he did talk, I would pay attention because he would choose his words very carefully, and what he did say was incredibly loaded. He would mean absolutely every word he said. A different word here or there would be very significant. I was quick to learn to listen very carefully and try to pick up on any possible subtleties or nuances.   You need to pay attention. If they, the Finns, say someone is sick, they are probably dying.  In general I have found that Finns do not enter into conversation with strangers, their  words are chosen very  carefully and small talk is really considered suspect. "Sacred silence" has meaning, it really does. 

I love Hannu's last name. Susi. Switch those letters around and it spells Sisu also. Anyone who knows me knows what Sisu is. I think I refer to it often enough that my friends  googled the word just to find out what the hell it means. Here's a quick defintion:
Sisu is a Finnish term that combines inner strength, determination, perseverance in the face of adversity, and a strong work ethic. There is really no direct English translation, as it isn't in the English language. It is strictly a Finnish word, but the concept can be somewhat expressed as “being tough as nails”, “hard-nosed”, or "stubborn ass".  I particularly like "stubborn-ass" because I have heard friends, family, co-workers, and even bosses call me that all the time. That is giving me one of the best compliments you could possible give me - so kiitos for that.  Sisu is a necessary thing for the Finns. They live in a cold northern land, sliced by thousands of beautiful yet cold lakes, and long under threat of being overwhelmed, militarily, linguistically and otherwise, by more powerful (asshole) neighbors. From the Middle Ages until the 20th century, my grandparents homeland was occupied by Sweden and Russia. This is why my grandfather and his family left. They were not going to be "Russified".  "Swedes no more, Russians we will never be, Finns we will always be." 

 
The only problem I have ever had with my Finnish identity is that sometimes I cannot control my laughing. Finns laughing out loud isn't very common. I laugh out loud often. I can't help myself. I suppose it is the Irish/Welsh blood in me? 

Hannu is the grandson of my Grandmother's younger brother Arvid. "I'm coming to California and I want to meet you," he announced in an email. No need to ask me twice, we immediately set about making plans to meet. He  would be traveling along with two friends, Simo and Jaakko.  How cool is that? I thought. I have always had a long held desire to be able to make 'in-person' contact with my kin in Finland and it finally reached a point to "do something about it".  I was a little nervous about the language issue.  It turns out I was worried for no reason. Neither one of us had to speak the others language in order to communicate and enjoy ourselves.

I have had years and years of written contact with my 3rd cousin, Margit, but never have met anyone from Finland in person. (Well, besides one of my father's brother's who was  born in Finland ) The key player in this drama was  Margit Lumia, a gifted genealogist who helped me piece together my Järvinen and Muurasniemi ancestry, many years ago. This ultimately lead me to discover that I actually have more relatives in Finland then I do in the United States. I became hooked on genealogy - it’s like an addiction. I had became a “genealogical obsessive.”  People are fascinated with who they are, they want to know where they came from.  I had corresponded with another cousin, Kosti,  (1st cousin 1x removed)  who actually fought in Finland's Winter Wars (to get independence from Russia)  and even though he recently passed away  I will cherish his letters with all of my heart and will always regret never having met him in person. 

It was the first time I’ve met Hannu in real life, though we’ve chatted via email numerous times.  Being from Finland, he seemed pretty damn cool, as did his friend, Simo. Jaakko didn't come to my house, he was participating in a parachuting competition in Lodi.
Hannu  entered my heart immediately. I had one of those inexplicable moments where I felt I had known him always, forever.  Two cousins from different parts of the world but connected by a blood-line -  forming a new bond. I felt an immediate chemistry with Hannu,  there was no denying the blood in our gene-pool. He was my cousin, a  family member who flew across countries and oceans and then drove across the State of California  to reach my place in order to meet me. I am a  family member from that family tree that had branched itself out to plant the Järvinen orchard in a far-away land. His car trip to reach my place had been only a 3 hour drive, but think about it - his journey spanned several generations and traversed  countries and oceans.
He'd found a home in a foreign country, my home.  Cousins meeting for the first time, yet still bound together and both of us feeling deeply connected. More than we'd ever expected, this family connection carried us along, almost like a magic carpet ride, to a most wonderful experience and gave both of us the gift of new familial ties. Could this really  be happening? So surreal were the occurrences of this "cousins meeting for the first time"  that it still seems dream-like.

Simo and Hannu

Me and Hannu

When I first saw Hannu, I recognized him immediately from the family resemblance. It was amazing, it was extraordinary. He reminded me of one of my father's brothers when he was at Hannu's age. Hannu's wife, Virpi, remarked  that she could see a resemblance between Hannu and I when we would Skype together, Hannu and I sitting side by side. She said we had the same sense of humor. That was very evident when we attended a classic car show during his visit and we did the exact same thing and said the exact same thing at the exact same moment, and then we both looked at one another and laughed. You don't need to know the other person's language to communicate. We did just fine.
But if we did speak each others language, just imagine the stories we might well have had which would have  added  to our understanding of those now long-departed family members. I did not speak Finnish and Hannu did not speak English, yet we survived. We had the assistance of Google Translate and also the assistance of his wife and daughter translating through Skype (both women being so genuinely awesome) We also effectively used body language to the best of our abilities. 

We said our goodbyes - promising to stay in touch, issuing invitations to one another, and I felt sadness when Hannu and Simo drove away. And so there I was, walking back to my house in quiet reflection, looking at the vastness of my beautiful blue northern California cloudless sky, simply amazed at the beauty of where I live and the happiness this last weekend had brought me. Yet - longing to visit Finland. Longing to meet as many of my Finnish cousins as I can. Longing to return to my grandparents homeland, their birth homes.  I am not ashamed to admit I had a tear in my eye and that despite our language obstacles I did not want Hannu to leave for fear we may never meet again. A couple days visit was not long enough.
Almost immediately after Hannu and Simo left here, I began searching for good airfares to Finland for me to go visit and meet the rest of the family. One of the motivations for me going to Finland is for me to learn more about my heritage, to retrace my ancestor’s footsteps. Hopefully I will be able to make the trip. I don't know, finances may be the biggest obstacle. The only obstacle actually.  It would be a very long journey - flight-wise. I'm not the best flyer in the world, but I do admit I have gotten better over the past few years with a lot of trips to Washington State. I certainly feel a lot more comfortable about going now that I have met Hannu and  his wife and daughter. I could finally meet Margit, her son Ville and her parents. Meet ALL of my family. There would be so many  places I would love to visit.  Ikaalinen being the foremost, Helsinki, and then Kuru, my grandfather's birthplace. The castles. The last glimpse of Finland when they sailed away. The graveyards. And of course sauna and swim in the lake my grandmother swam in. There's an inside joke between Hannu and I.......so maybe I should just say "walk into the same lake with my leather boots on".  While Hannu, Simo and I were at Lassen Volcanic Park I had wanted a better view of the mountain.  A tree was in the way. I walked into the lake water with my leather boots on -  but I got the photo I wanted. I do believe that Hannu and Simo think I am one "crazy Finn".   I am a true believer in "Don't let little things stand in your way".   

 Getting a little wet for this photo was worth it!

                                                                     
So many relatives in Finland, so little time.  I'd feel like a true Finn if I could sleep under bright lights (Midsummer) after downing  seven to nine cups of coffee and three or four desserts. Time to prepare myself, with the first step being able to  drink plenty of coffee. The Finns lead the world in coffee consumption, averaging numerous cups per person per day, and decaffeinated is probably a sin to the coffee gods.  I will  also need to eat baked goods, because the Finns enjoy their sweets. No problem there!
 
I would love to see the Seitseminen National Park, Ikaalinen Church (where my grandparents married), the Mannerheim Museum, the Häme Castle, the Fortress of Suomenlinna. Many places would be too far away.  I would be just as happy to  sit in a chair looking out at the lake my Grandmother viewed every day. I could sit there and imagine my grandfather August coming through the forest, to the property where the love of his life lived. 

I could envision my grandmother looking outside a window anxiously awaiting his arrival. I could breathe in the clean Finnish air and maybe all those stories my father told me about his parents would magically come to life.

I wish to meet as many of my relatives as possible. Share some Salmiakki????
For weeks afterwards Hannu and Simo's Finnish conversations echoed in my ears. I would find myself smiling. It would warm my heart just remembering what the three of us did, where we went - everything. His trip to visit and meet me was truly a gift from the Finnish God's themselves. It was amazing, the whole thing, absolutely amazing.  A once in a lifetime opportunity I will never forget. 



Before I go I thought of something that may be fun. It's almost County Fair time! My suggestion is that next time you go on a roller coaster, take some spare bolts with you and tell the person in front of you “Dude, these just came out of your…
 

Ending my blog as always, with my usual joke  -

Obama
 
He is destroying the "American Dream" by turning a once free country into a socialist nightmare

P.S. And this is for you Hannu, Jaakko and Simo

Suomen mafian tulee Kaliforniaan

 

Advice from nature, animals and the wildlife that I love

I am sure most of you think "How can Vickie manage to sit on it and talk out of it at the same time"? Usually I write my blog as a ha-ha bulletin board. I think life is good when laughter is frequent. What do I think is the greatest reward of being alive? Well of course, first off  it is my family, but I see nature and animals as equally rewarding. I hold close to my heart several quotes, one of them being -

“Earth and sky, woods and fields, lakes and rivers, the mountain and the sea, are excellent schoolmasters, and teach some of us more than we can ever learn from books.”
― John Lubbock

With that being said, I think there's too many people who just don't care about nature. Most people are so caught up in their cities, their careers, and all of this and that ever changing  technology, and other superficial man-made junk that they find real nature too primitive. I sincerely feel the lack of respect for nature comes from too many advances in technology. We human beings create more and more artificial "things," and we have become distanced from nature and forget where the hell we came from. Ok, please don't get me wrong, I'm not totally hating on technology, I love my smartphone. I love my HD TV. I just think people have become so blinded by the things we've created to make life easier for ourselves that they take nature for granted. I will never take nature for granted. My philosophy is "If you do not respect nature, then you destroy nature". Maybe people don't appreciate nature like I do because it is always there. Nowadays, people in the world are so spoiled with technological advances, they would rather be cooped up playing video games or watching TV instead of going outside. Go outside. Breathe in the air. Put your feet in a creek.  See the beauty around you. Plant a tree. Take it all in. Pick up some litter.  If I am not outside I literally cannot breathe, I feel like I am suffocating if I am indoors.

Today's blog isn't my usual ha-ha bulletin board. It will be an blog of advice from nature, animals and wildlife to maybe help you enjoy life's journey a little better.

Advice from a Campfire:

Bring people together
Spark new ideas 
Kindle strong friendships 
Radiate warmth 
Be a good storyteller
Don't burn out!

Advice From A Wolf:

Trust your instincts 
Be at home in nature 
Keep your den clean 
Stand fur what you believe 
Stay on track
Howl with your friends 
Be a leader 
Pack life with good memories!





Advice from a Bear

Live large
Climb beyond your limitations 
When life gets hairy, grin and bear it 
Eat well 
Live with the seasons 
Take a good, long nap
Think big
Spend time in the woods
Eat plenty of greens
Hold your head up high
Keep your nose clean
It’s OK to be a little wild!





Advice From Mt. Rainier 

Reach for new heights
Rise above it all
There is beauty as far as the eye can see
Be uplifting
Patience, patience, patience
Get to the point
Enjoy the view!





Advice From a Eagle

Soar to new heights
Be a keen observer
Swoop down on opportunities
Rise above it all
Spread your wings
Find a field that suits you
The sky's the limit!



Advice From the Earth

Be well rounded
Keep a positive atmosphere
Have a magnetic personality
Celebrate diversity
Think globally
Be good to Mother Earth
There's no place like home!

Advice from a Deer

Look both ways before you cross the road
Be a good listener 
Know when to lay low
Tread lightly on the earth
Take time to browse
Leap over obstacles
Don’t pass the buck!









Advice From Lassen Peak Volcano

Stay active
Keep your inner fire burning
It’s OK to let off steam
Go with the flow
Be uplifting
It’s all a matter of time
Have a blast!








Advice From Snoqualmie Falls

Go with the flow
Roar with excitement
Let your cares fall away
Create your own music
Immerse yourself in nature
Stay active
Make a splash!








Advice from a Goldfinch

Stand out in a crowd
Go out on a limb
Be a bright spot in others' lives
Speak up!
Be home before dark
Add color to your life
It's OK to be a little flashy!
                                                                   
Advice From a Squirrel

Look both ways when you cross the road
Plan ahead
Stay active
Eat plenty of fiber
Spend time in the woods
Go out on a limb It’s OK to be a little nuts!






Advice From my friends Laura and Valrie's Horses

Take life in stride
Loosen the reins
Be free-spirited
Keep the burrs from under your saddle
Carry your friends when they need it
Keep stable
Gallop to greatness!






Advice from my neighbor Marcia's Cats

Be frisky!
Pounce on possibilities
Enjoy the night life
Always land on your feet
Stretch often
Don't climb a tree you can't get back out of
Delight in the simple joy of a long nap
Create your purr-fect day!







I will not be ending with my usual joke about Obama.  He's too much of a 'downer' to me. I’m living in a drama-free nature loving bubble today. Respect the bubble, people! Respect it!
As I told my neighbor on the phone today, "I was just thinking…then I thought “WHY?”  So there will be no more thinking today.

Just another Monday

Well, here I am - once again writing from my underground command post. Deep in the bowels of a mountain located in Northeastern California, United States, Northern Hemisphere, Earth, Solar System.  I am at the elevation of 3500 feet under the dirt, rock and darkness of my nondescript cave, known as home.  I am in the vicinity of the southernmost active volcano in the Cascade Range, Lassen Peak. She's a good enough 'adoped' mother, but I always miss my real mother, Mt. Rainier. There was something very special about growing up with a view of Mt. Rainier out my kitchen window. She watched over me, and protected me. 

I'm having one of those days where I'm probably going to lean against the wall, and slide down it several times while dramatically sighing. Life appears to be designed specifically to kick my ass. I’m still standing. So, I say bring it on and just to be the defiant person that I am I walked briskly with scissors today. I’m pretty wild, no?
Some people lack the ability to laugh at themselves. Not me, I can laugh at myself.

My Monday  Observations:

Easter has come and gone and I still don't know how long  I have to sit on these Cadbury Eggs before the Peeps hatch. This is getting very tiring.

I believe everything happens for a reason. Usually, the reason is somebody screwed up.

Four things that can never be recovered: that stone after it’s thrown, that word after it’s spoken, that occasion after it’s missed, and the time after it’s gone.

Don't ever dwell on the past. Focus on the future. That's why our rear view mirror's are  smaller than our windshield!

There's nothing worse than loving someone who's never going to stop disappointing you.

If watching the TV show “Cops” has taught me anything it’s to stay away from people with blurry faces, they’re nothing but trouble.

I work hard so my dogs can have a better life. Not only do they have their own sofa and pillow but they have their own ATV's. Plus they have "little people" to read them books.

People will cut down trees, make paper, then write “SAVE TREES” on them.  A tree's revenge? A paper cut!

It's so windy here today that  I just saw a squirrel's nuts get blown out of a tree.

My Monday Complaints:

I am really tired of all those State Farm commercials on TV. If State Farm were such a good neighbor they'd come over and pick up all the dog sh** in my yard. I have 4 dogs. Seriously, be a good neighbor State Farm.

I miss being a kid. My only responsibilities were running around and laughing a lot. And someone else was in charge of my hair.

Oh dear, I guess nobody did take care of my hair after all.

Dear small line of woodstove ash that won't go in the dustpan… Screw you.

Getting back to my last blog about dolls, seriously, dolls have given us an unrealistic image of women. True fact, Russian women do not contain smaller Russian women inside them.

My Monday Advice:

Two tips for faster jogging or walking:  (1) hot guy in front of you; (2) creepy dude behind you.

Sometimes it takes a wrong turn to put us in the right place.

My Monday Questions:

Why can't history repeat itself?  I really want a dinosaur.

When the Spice Girls Band chose their "Spicy" alter-ego nicknames (Scary Spice, Sporty Spice, Ginger Spice, Posh Spice and Baby Spice) why didn't the girl with the biggest boobs choose Spice Rack?

If I was religious and I confessed my sins, I think it would be great to hear a priest say “been there, done that”. That would be awesome, right? 

Wouldn't it be hilarious to hire two private investigators to follow and investigate each other?

What do you think of this for next Halloween? Onions, Caramel, Popsicle sticks. Watching your friends bite into a caramel onion thinking it’s an caramel apple.  Beyond priceless, no? Oh sure, now you are not going to trust me next Halloween are you?

Don't you think this would be the best cop response - E V E R?
“You didn’t think we give pretty women tickets? You’re right, we don’t.”

Is it bad when I’m talking to myself and I don't even listen?

Does anyone else have life moments when all you can do is stop and say “Seriously?”

Wouldn't we all rather have a life full of scars than a life full of fear?

Do kids go outside and play anymore??

My Monday Worries: 

It's not that I don't trust people, but just to be safe my will has a clause that requires 10 witnesses to confirm I'm not still alive before I'm cremated. Just remember this - My Will says it’s okay to pull the plug on me, but I’d like you to at least try jiggling it a few times first.

I don't necessarily agree with everything I say.

My Monday advice:

Don’t compromise yourself -  you’re all you’ve got.

My Monday accomplishments:

                            I found Nemo! Everybody can stop looking now.

        I found him but it's too late. As anyone who knows me - you know how I feel about fish. I'm not upset. At all.

                                           

Airline Humor: 

I will not say which airline this was, but found this humorous enough to pass along. Never let it be said that ground crews lack a sense of humor. Pilots fill out a form, called a “gripe sheet,” which tells mechanics about problems with the aircraft. The mechanics correct the problems, document their repairs on the form, and then pilots review the gripe sheets before the next flight.  

P: Pilot complaint    S: Solution documented by mechanic

P: Test flight OK, except auto-land very rough.  S: Auto-land not installed on this aircraft.
P: Something loose in cockpit  S: Something tightened in cockpit.
P: Dead bugs on windshield. S: Live bugs on back-order.
P: Autopilot in altitude-hold mode produces a 200 feet per minute descent  S: Cannot reproduce problem on ground.
P: Evidence of leak on right main landing gear.  S: Evidence removed.
P: Friction locks cause throttle levers to stick.  S: That’s what friction locks are for.
P: IFF inoperative in OFF mode.  S: IFF always inoperative in OFF mode.
P: Suspected crack in windshield.  S: Suspect you’re right.
P: Number 3 engine missing.  S: Engine found on right wing after brief search.
P: Aircraft handles funny.   S: Aircraft warned to: straighten up, fly right, and be serious.
P: Target radar hums.   S: Reprogrammed target radar with lyrics.
P: Mouse in cockpit.   S: Cat installed.
P: Noise coming from under instrument panel. Sounds like a midget pounding on something with a hammer.    S: Took hammer away from midget


          As usual I end this blog on a joke. You would not expect any less of me.

                        OBAMA, a waste of two billion years of evolution

                             Ut-Oh, Got to go, CIA is knocking on my door.


                                  Almost forgot -  HELLO Alturas, hello Modoc County

Barbie's for Sale

 My Thursday so far:

1) Jumped out of bed
2) Cooked breakfast
3) Ran 5 miles
4) Worked out
5) Started lying compulsively

Pretending to be a functioning adult is exhausting. But here goes.

We all know that Barbie is a plastic doll, about 11 1/2 inches in height, manufactured by Mattel since 1959. I was seven years old when I got my first Barbie. Now that I think about it - it was my only Barbie. I was more of a mud puddle splashing, play in the mud and dirt tomboy. My original Barbie was a rather well endowed female with a supermodel body that would have fallen over if she had been an actual person. It is a scientifically and medically known fact that anyone with breasts that huge and a waist that small would topple over as soon as they stood up.  This doll has had many careers. Barbie is known to have been an astronaut, a lawyer, veterinarian, model, and even a mom. As a child I thought Barbie could be very scary at times because she did not blink and she could stare at you no matter where you were. She could also smile 24/7 even when you turned her head 360 degrees, as I often did.  Barbie has also had over 40 pets, including cats; dogs; horses; a panda; a lion cub; and a zebra. If I had my mint boxed Barbie from 1959 it would probably sell for $4.000. But I don't have it. I probably left it in some mud puddle. I came across these Barbie's at a garage sale and I am now offering them for sale. 

 Obviously this entire blog was created for my friend, Jenny, who I went to school with. She's a avid doll collector and I wanted to provide her with a little doll 'humor'. 

South Beach Barbie
This princess Barbie comes with an assortment of Gucci Handbags, a Lexus SUV, a long-haired foreign dog named Honey Pie who begrudgingly and reluctantly allows "its person" Barbie to dress her in embarrassing sweaters, costumes, footwear, and other ridiculous dog apparel. Available with or without tummy tuck and face lift. Also available is her bathroom scale permanently set at 110 lbs. Workaholic Ken sold only in conjunction with this “augmented” version.

Soccer Mom Barbie
This is  middle-aged upper middle class Barbie. Drives an SUV/Minivan and thinks the world revolves around her 'perfect-angel' children. She lives in the suburbs and devotes her entire life to her children because she has no full time occupation or even a secondary education.  She carpools, drives them to soccer and little league, volunteers at their school, does snack days, and play dates. She drives her Ford Wind-star Minivan with her fancy coffee and smartphone. She has no real purpose in life other than to be the trophy wife of Ken who hardly spends time with his kids. She lives the good life only because Ken is the success.  She gets lost easily. Traffic jamming cell phone sold separately.

Shasta County Barbie
This recently paroled Barbie comes with a  Beretta 9mm handgun, a switchblade knife, a Chevy with dark tinted windows and a Meth Lab Kit. This model is only available after dark and can only be paid for in cash. Preferably small, untraceable bills. Unless you are a cop, then I don’t know what you are talking about.

Marin County Barbie
This yuppie Barbie comes with your choice of BMW (Basic Marin Wheels) convertible or Hummer h3. Included are her own personalized Starbucks cup, $100,000 limit credit card and country club membership. Also available for this set are Shallow Ken and Private School Skipper. You probably won’t be able to afford any of them but I will consider all offers.

Shingletown Barbie
This Barbie comes from a small town in northern California, where the main exports are arts, crafts and weed. You can usually pick up a farmers daughter for a six pack of Budweiser in this fine town. This pale model comes dressed in her own Wrangler jeans, a cameo shirt and Yosemite Sam tattoo on her shoulder. She has a six pack of Coor's Light and a Hank Williams, Sr. CD set.  She can spit over 5 feet and kick Ken’s butt when she’s drunk. Purchase her Chevy pickup truck separately and get an original "John Wayne for President" bumper sticker absolutely free.

Aspen Barbie
This Barbie was born in Aspen. The prettiest little ski town in North America. The town where both the rich and poor come to ski in the day and drink in the night. This collagen injected, rhino-plastic Barbie wears a leopard print ski outfit and drinks Cosmopolitans while entertaining friends at the Lodge. She doesn't even know how to ski, she just hangs out in the Lodge. Optional Percocet prescription available. Aspen Barbie bar tables optional  (the little plastic things found in a pizza box that keep the box from collapsing and smashing the pizza. These are a perfect size to use as a Barbie doll accessory as an end or bar table).

Sonoma County Barbie
This tobacco chewing, brassy haired Barbie has a pair of her own high-heeled sandals with one broken heel from the time she chased drunk Ken out of Marin County Barbie’s house. Her ensemble includes low rise acid washed jeans, fake finger nails, and a see through halter top. Also available with a mobile home and 8-track tape player.

San Francisco Barbie
This doll is made of actual tofu. She has long uncombed straight dark hair, arch-less feet, hairy armpits, no makeup and Birkenstock's with white socks. She really prefers that you call her “Willow”. She does not want or need a Ken doll, but if you purchase two San Francisco Barbies and the optional Subaru wagon, you get a rainbow flag sticker for free.

Whidbey Island Barbie
Whidbey Island Barbie was popular. She was well known in Central Whidbey especially  Coupeville and Greenbank. (Whidbey refers to the largest island off the coast of the continental United States. It's located off of Washington in the Pacific Northwest) She’s basically Issaquah Barbie, but with all the accessories of South Beach Barbie, plus a whale fishing boat and whale fishing pole. Whidbey Island Barbie is just bored with the island life, saying there isn't much of anything to do.  Overall life on Whidbey is pretty dull. Its over run with tourists in the summer who are too excited about riding the ferry boat and seeing sea gulls everywhere. Also available are her whale watching binoculars. As for Whidbey Island Ken, his accessories  include a teeny tiny little Ph.D. diploma in entomology, which enables him to double as a professional fly-fishing-consultant action figure ( graphite fly rod and miniature accessories licensed from Orvis sold separately).

South Side Chicago Barbie
This Barbie now comes with a stroller and infant doll. Optional accessories include a GED and bus pass. Gangsta Ken and his ’79 Caddy were available, but both are now very difficult to find since the addition of the infant.

Finland  Barbie
She’s perfect in every way. I don’t know who Ken is because he’s always hunting, skiing, playing ice hockey or  Pesäpallo. Finland Barbie and Finland Ken won the wife carrying race in 2012. They are planning on participating in WIFE CARRYING WORLD CHAMPIONSHIPS in Sonkajarvi July 5th-6th, 2013.

Mexicali-Baja  Barbie
This Spanish speaking only Barbie comes with a 1985 Toyota with expired temporary plates and two baby Barbies and two baby Ken's in the back seat, but no car seats. The optional Ken doll comes with a Meat Packers uniform and is missing three fingers on his right hand. Sorry, Green Cards are not available for this Barbie or Ken.

Grand Canyon Barbie
This Barbie is the only Native American Barbie. She sits in a booth and sells Native American Art for large sums of money to tourists.

Wyoming Cowgirl Barbie
This Barbie comes with various bruises and several restraining orders. Front teeth missing, but optional denture is available as well as her broken down barrel horse and whiskey shot glass collection.

Maibu Barbie
Malibu Barbie had an affair with GI Joe, and in an attempt to win her back, Ken was instrumental in having Mattel shrink GI Joe to half his former size. Humiliated, Joe signed up for a long military stint overseas while Barbie tried to drive her pink Corvette off of a cliff in Malibu. She survived, and only after extensive plastic surgery was she able to continue her multiple careers, including a guest spot on the TV show Nip Tuck. After years of therapy she was finally able to forgive Ken. But she did it for herself, not for Ken. While forced to be together in certain social situations, their relationship remains strained. Crashed dream car and love letters written by GI Joe optional.

Issaquah Barbie
This Barbie comes with her own ATV and horse and lives in Issaquah,  a suburb 15 miles east of Seattle on Interstate 90.  Available with SUV, complete with Kayak on the roof and 2 dogs in the back. Optional Ken doll also comes with his own ATV and dog. Issaquah Barbie is never really happy. She always complains about being issapointed that there issanothingtodo and that her and Ken issarely go anywhere.

As usual, ending this blog on my usual joke................

BARACK OBAMA

Literally no plans

Today I want to say  “it’s a great day to be alive,”  because those are literally my only plans. Other than to bore you with another "blog post". 

I wanted to drop my Sheltie, Kesä, off at Petsmart to be groomed and they wanted to keep her for 6 hours. Seriously,  6 hours? My first thought was "Why the hell didn't children’s haircuts work this way back when my kids were little"? My neighbor Marcia let me borrow her dog clippers. I may have gotten a little carried away - I don't know. Whatcha all think?

Kesä Stone Fox Järvinen

Personally myself I think she went from Good looking Sheltie to Total Stone Fox in the matter of minutes. But that's my opinion. She hasn't come out from under the bed for days now. I guess it's true, dogs do have 'vanity issues'. 

Gray Wolf OR-7

Wolf OR7,  Oregon's 7th  radio-collared wolf, crossed the California state border into southwest Klamath County, Oregon  the other day  He had been hanging out in Tehama County, Shasta County and Lassen County since migrating to California. He traveled from his known location in  NW Lassen County to the Oregon border in 7 days. Amazing. I've been following him ever since he had first crossed into California on Dec. 28, 2011 - he was California's sole wolf, looking for a mate. He wasn't going to find one, which he obviously found out after searching the California wilds for over a year. Wolves throughout Oregon are protected by the state Endangered Species Act, but I still have mixed feelings about him returning home. I will miss following his whereabouts but then again I will feel better knowing that the California ranchers won't be 'gunning' for him now. Unfortunate for his followers like me that Oregon, unlike California, does not post daily location information on  their radio collared wolves. I hope he finds his mate and starts his own pack soon. He deserves it. 

Easter is a'coming: 
As anyone who knows me knows - I'm not a religious person. Not in the sense most people are anyway. But I do enjoy Easter for one reason. I love biting the ears and butts off chocolate Easter bunnies. 

I'm just not that much into holidays of any kind except for the 4th of July.  That's the time my Finnish Wizards and I  use Sparklers as wands and shoot spells at people! This coming year it will be important to plan ahead and  enjoy one of the last Independence Days before our complete dependence on China. 

Just a couple of my thoughts: 
I think the U.S.  budget is like the infamous Oregon Trail.  Our wagons are falling apart and everyone is dying of dysentery.What our government needs is a D.C.S - Department of Common Sense.

The people of today  are having unprotected sex. Yet they all have cases on their cell phones. Think about that. Seriously, just let that sink in for a moment.

I hate when cashiers ask you "is that everything"?  Oh no, I’d also like all this invisible shit too. 

Growing up and becoming an adult was the worst decision I’ve ever made. Being an adult is stupid. I’d like to be able to be a kid again but only because twirling in circles was acceptable and the only password I had to remember was “open sesame.” Maybe I should not complain too much, after all I have a new sponge in the sink and it just brightened my day a little. 

Bring back the good old days 

My letter to Congress: 
Dear Congress,
Last year, 2012,  I mismanaged my funds and this year I cannot decide on a budget. Until I have come to a unified decision that fits all of my needs and interests, I will have to shut down my bank account and I  will no longer be able to pay my taxes. I’m sure you’ll understand. Thank you very much for setting an example we can all follow.

If I texted all the time: 
I'm at that age where I may have to start changing up my current texting codes to much more age appropriate codes:
BFF: best friend fell, BTW: bring the wheelchair, ATD: at the doctors, FWIW: forgot where I was.  IMHO: is my hearing aid on? OMSG: oh my! sorry, gas.

My apology for the week:
To the citizens of Shingletown, please accept my apologies. I thought “flash mob” meant something completely different. Can someone come bail me out? Helllloooooo? Anybody out there? 

My questions for the week: 
Do I turn right, when there’s nothing left? Or do I turn left, when nothing is right?

Did anyone else think that the smurfs finally "grew up” when they watched the movie Avatar, or was it just me?

My advice for the week: 

Just the truth and nothing but the truth: 
It takes only 7 seconds for food to pass from your mouth to your stomach, the length of a penis is 3 times the length of the thumb, one human hair can support 3 kg, a woman’s heart beats faster than a man’s, women blink twice as much as men, and your body uses 300 muscles to balance itself when you are standing perfectly still.  Ummmm, while women have already read the entire text that I just wrote, men are still looking at their thumbs.

St.Patrick's Day: 

This year I will be celebrating St. Patrick’s Day with my  gang of leprechauns.   It's the least I can do, considering I do have to admit I have 25% Irish blood in me. What time do the shenanigans start? My plans include green beer and drinking at 10am. Really, these folks know how to have fun. The Irish are great story tellers, but not stories from history or stories based on myth - usually stories rooted in their life's experiences. They really can laugh at themselves. 

I know I am that wee bit of Irish because:
~ The person that I insult the most is my best friend
~ I'm strangely poetic after a few drinks
~ I don't know the words to the song but that doesn't stop me from singing
~ I can't wait for the other guy to stop talking so I can start talking
~ I have no idea how to make a long story short
~ I have a gift for swearing
~ I'm still scared of a wooden spoon and a wooden ruler
~Mosquitoes love my blood, and leave me looking like a leper.
~I wait until I am in crippling pain or nearly dying before going to see a Dr.

Sooooooo many Irish restaurant and homes, on St. Patrick’s Day, corned beef and cabbage will be  the menu.  I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but this is not in fact an Irish dish at all. It's a fact that beef was not easily available in Ireland and was actually seen as a luxury. A luxury most didn't get to experience much.  The truth is the traditional Irish meal centered around ham, the bacon, not corned beef and cabbage. It is when our Irish ancestors  got off the boats after immigrating to America that corned beef was the only meat that they could easily and cheaply get their hands on. True story, this is why it has become the meal of choice for generations of us Irish Americans to come (Me, not included).  A tradition was born, of having a boiled dinner. For this dinner the corned beef, cabbage, and carrots, turnips, and potatoes were boiled. So, I, contend, because I am Irish and I may or may not like to argue a point -  that this dinner is simply not Irish at all. 

When the Irish immigrated to  America, they couldn’t find a bacon joint like they had in Ireland so they leaned toward the  corned beef which was actually similar in texture. We all know that the majority of the Irish immigrants settled in N.Y. They landed there. Why not stay? The bars of early New York offered  free meals of corned beef and cabbage to the Irish workers who would gather in the bar after working all day. Of course those  Irish  would  have to buy a few drinks in order to get their  free meal.   Those immigrant Irish workers were merely enticed by a cheap meal. The corned beef and cabbage dinner is believed by most people to be of Irish origin but it's actually a Jewish dish.  Ok, Irish folks - Jeez - don't get your knickers in a twist. Sometimes the truth hurts. Just say'n. Grab a green beer and chill.

Whatever you’ll be preparing this St. Patrick’s Day, whether it’s a corned beef and cabbage dinner or the  real bacon and cabbage dinner, or maybe even  the Irish Beef Stew - enjoy!

Myself, I will be having an American meal of steak and taters. Or maybe just a bowl of cereal. Maybe just a handful of potato chips. St. Patrick's Day means very little to me - mainly because I don't look good wearing green and  I don't particularly look good drinking green either.

As you all know I always end my blog on a joke.....................

Obama

This time two jokes................

U.S. Government

March Monday Madness

In the mornings, I look like a cave troll and avoid any and all eye contact with all species but my dogs. Oh, let's be honest. That applies to afternoons and evenings too. But you can't see me, so all is well.
So, now my blog. A glorious conglomeration of bull and wit for my blog viewers from the United States, Netherlands, Israel, France, Germany, Russia, Latvia, Canada, and Finland. (You say WHAT? WHO? Yeah, me too!)

My thoughts for the day:

My ideas for a bumper sticker on my truck:

1) Watch out for the idiot behind me.
2) Could you possibly drive any better if I shoved that cell phone up your ass?

I think its a  sad moment when you lose that potato chip in the dip and then  you send in a recon chip and that breaks and disappears too.

They should play porn videos on the gas station pump tv's so you can watch someone else get screwed at the same time.

Remember if you drive over a bridge today or in the near future it was built by the lowest bidder.

Thank you, True Crime, for clarifying that was a reenactment. I was getting pretty upset that your camera crew didn't even attempt to stop that murder.

I think there's finally enough stuff in my kitchen junk drawer to build my pink rocket-ship.

I personally believe that the problem with marriage is that it was invented when people lived to the ripe old age of 30, you know, like in our great great grandparents days.

I always wonder if there are any  birds that prefer not to sing in the morning and that just roll around in their nests until noon. I wish my mountain jays would sleep in, just once.

Rap Music is like scissors...it always loses to rock. Always will lose.

Friendships are like wine, no matter how carefully you pick the grapes, either white or red, some wines turn to vinegar and others turn into vintage aged treasures.

My questions for the day:

Seriously, if Cinderella’s shoe really did fit her perfectly, then why or how did it fall off in the first place? But on the other hand I do have to point out that Cinderella is serious living proof that shoes CAN change your life! (This advice comes from a woman who wears snow boots and cowboy boots so it's just hear-say.)

What if we were all penquins? I'm pretty sure the worst thing about being a penguin is after you're in an argument, you'll try to waddle away angrily but still look so damn cute. Who doesn't look adorable in a tuxedo?

Really?  A stress ball isn’t for throwing at people who stress you out? Why didn't somebody tell me.

Wouldn't it be great if we were born with Anti-Virus in our hearts and Google in our brain?

Is running in front of vehicles some sort of gang initiation for squirrels?

My idea of fun:
I once shot a man with a paintball gun just to watch him dye. My bad.

My childhood memories:
Sometimes I was an innocent young girl, sometimes I was just stupid, and sometimes I exacted revenge on whomever needed it.

I thought I’d share some of what happened in my childhood for some of my longtime readers who care or for my new readers that are too tired to do their good old fashioned Facebook stalking.

Let me first explain something. During my childhood years - at birthday parties, girls were expected to get tea or art sets and barbie dolls, yet the boys were all about bows and arrows, dirt bikes and BB guns. Most father's tend to categorize little girls as softer and sweeter than boys. I suspect my father never taped a bow on my little blonde baby head and sung those “sugar and spice and everything nice” words to me. He raised me to be tough. I had to be. I was the youngest and had two older brothers. 

I tried to do everything as well as my brothers, which is apparent in this photo when I had tried to shave like my brother who was 10 years older than me. Sometimes a young girl shouldn't worship her brother as much as I did. Made this a very sad school photo didn't it? Of course, I was truly embarrassed by the very severe scar on my face.

My Dad and I

First off my childhood friends were selected based on what kind of snacks they had at their house. Or which mother would make me a sam-mich. Some of those parents were my second Mom's and Dad's. Yes, I needed that much supervision.

Roy, we were like brother-sister. Both of our homes back property entered onto school property - what a huge back-yard we had! And YES, his Mom made the best sam-miches! Cookies too.

My one friend Debbie had a huge cherry tree in her back yard. That was a hella great cherry tree. We ate cherries and spit out pits until we literally got sick. We challenged one another to see who could spit those pits the furthest. Really lady-like huh? Heck, we were teen-agers, we were by all means tomboys.
One of my other friends (who will remain un-named) had chickens running around her kitchen. Didn't eat there much. I remember a time she also rode her horse into the house. True it was a small horse - but come on - who rides a horse into their house?
Another friend and I ironed our hair. Hers was curly. Ok, understandable. Mine was about as straight as hair could be. I used a real iron on my hair. A hot iron. I wasn't ironing a shirt or a pair of pants, I was ironing my hair. Talk about stupidity. Oh wait, we were teenagers, everything we did was stupid.
In Jr. High I was very much into gymnastics. Someone on my team was not particularly nice to me. That is an actual understatement. She was downright mean. I think it was jealousy. Gymnastics was very competitive for us young girls. One time when she was in the shower I went to her locker and took her clothes and put them in my gym bag and walked the - what - 300 steps to my own property back gate. How you like that bully-bitch? Lesson learned, don't mess with me, I get revenge. Maybe not today, but I guarantee you, when you least expect it. Oddly enough my Dad answered a knock on the door within an hour later. Not oddly enough, my Dad almost got into a physical fight with this girl's father. He knew I did it, we had previously discussed this girl and how she treated me. But..... he wasn't going to tolerate any person coming on our property threatening him, for my actions. I paid for my sins. I was grounded for a week. Tolerable price to pay for exacting revenge on a bully. That girl never showered after gym again.

Jr. High was fun for me.

But then again I did have a one very humiliating experience. While swimming in the Issaquah Creek behind my friend Cheri's house, our friends, who were swimming with us decided to  play a joke on us. They were boys, we were girls. We were skinny-dipping. No big deal, we were close friends that grew up together. No modesty involved. They took our clothes and ran. We had to walk back to her house naked. Maybe I should say 'slither'. There were no houses between the creek and her house - thank goodness. We took her 'pasture' route. We got our revenge. One night we snuck over to one of the boy's house's and stole his pinto horse. We rode that horse double and hid it in another friend's pasture two miles away. We watched that boy scour all of Issaquah looking for his horse. He thought the horse had opened the gate himself. We finally fessed up and he never did anything stupid to us again.

In High School, different story, but once again, don't mess with me.

So I ask you -Is that an evil grin or just a genuinely happy High Schooler?

       

     

Maybe Savana remembers this person's name but I sure don't.  Another girl who liked to pick on me. I got into her makeup case in her purse and slipped a trout fish eye into her CoverGirl makeup bottle. Premeditated of course. The worst part for me was actually cutting that eye out of the fish. Anybody who knows me knows I dislike fish. Won't eat it. Don't want it around me.  Can you imagine? Pouring makeup into your hand expecting to apply it to your face and out comes this fish eye? I wonder if she tried to sue CoverGirl for mental anquish?  Was it the same girl I challenged to a fight on the railroad tracks? I don't know. Odd that I can't even remember this girl's name. My friend Savana may remember. She was my self appointed bodyguard back then. She watched. She was there to pick me up if need be. I can tell you from experience, do not have a fight on the railroad tracks. The pebbles are not solid footing.
Nope, this person does not tolerate being treated badly. Still don't. Oh, so many childhood memories, but best to leave for a another time.

Just complaining:

The IRS rejected my 2012 Tax Return because of my response to: "List all dependents."
I replied "12 million illegal immigrants; 42 million unemployed people on food stamps, 2 million people in over 243 prisons; and 535 worthless fools in the U.S. House and Senate." Apparently, that was NOT an acceptable answer. I worked hours on that tax return. By the way, if you owe - and you have to write a check, just make it out to China.  Only in America -  born free and then taxed to death. I seriously think these tax forms should be more realistic and allow us, the pitiful taxpayers, to list the Government (Uncle Sam) as a dependent, no matter how many dependents we have. This guy, Uncle Sam, is a serious leech.
If I already didn't have plans for my remains after my death I would make arrangements for my ashes to be sent to the IRS with the enclosed note:  "Now you have it all, you're welcome."

Just talking a little Mother Nature:

Newspaper Actual Headline: "Trees Can Break Wind".  Of course I see that headline as humorous although I am sure it was written about actual wind breaks, right?

"Sandy" would have been a much more appropriate name for a huge sandstorm than for a hurricane. Like in the Sandy Desert of Australia, right? Or the Sand Dunes of Saudi Arabia? The Sahara in Africa? From what I have learned from the  National Hurricane Center, six lists of names are used in rotation.  Devastating hurricanes are retired from the list. In 2014 they will name two Atlantic hurricanes Vickie and Laura. I knew we were such good friends that we could do damage, somewhere. Laura will be used first. I will be used afterwards. I guess the hurricane Vickie will be considered the clean up hitter?
In 2014 they will also name a Pacific hurricane Winnie, and again in 2016 but will name it Winifred. Anybody that knows me knows that wherever those hurricanes hit I will be in hiding. Deep hiding. In my cave. I have already suffered the brunt of Winnie/Winifred. A lifetime of it.
In 2017  there will be a hurricane named Sean (my son) followed immediately by another named Tammie (his wife).  Sorry Marcia, there will be no Pacific or Atlantic hurricane named after you, but in 2017 there will be one named Lee. Marcia is on the hurricane waiting list in Australia. Really Marcia, on the other side of the world? You'll do anything for a vacation away huh?
Do not fear Valrie, your turn awaits - an Atlantic hurricane in 2018 will be named Valerie. I feel that this name is close enough.  Oddly enough, followed by a hurricane named William. Can't beat that, don't you agree?
As for my cousin Allen, your name was used in 1980 and it was so deadly and costly that the name was retired. Your hurricane name was replaced with Andrew, your brother's name, also retired a decade later.  Andrew landed in Florida, your own backyard. Both of you Harju boy's hurricanes were Category 5.
Still, I love the night sky more than anything else in this world, I think its the only place where chaos is so peaceful, you know -  provided I'm not in the middle of a hurricane.

As always - I am going out on a limb here and I end this blog providing you with a joke.

                                                        
Obama

March 6 - never just another day for me

If I cuss too much in my blog, let me explain.  Cuss words = sentence enhancers. That's my apology - upfront. Some days, I practice positive thinking. Other days, I’m not positive I am thinking. This is one of those days.

I always try to write in a humorous manner. I love laughter. I love humor. Today's blog has a serious side to it. Is this Vickie speaking? Really? Does she have a serious side? I will let you figure that out yourselves.

Today would have been my late husband's birthday. Out of respect and love for him I always lower my American Flag to half-mast on his birthday, on the annual day of his death and on Veteran's Day. I still miss him everyday. I also miss my father everyday. Sometimes I feel like an amputee, like a crucial part of me has been cut off and is no longer a part of my body.  Yet I can still sense their presence. I have the ability to see their visual images, clear as day, any time I want. I sense their presence all the time. Sure, you all think I'm crazy right now huh? Possibly. Sometimes I even talk to them. No biggy. I talk to animals. Neither one can talk back, but I do it nonetheless.

Take it from me - the death of a spouse is one of the most distressing events in life, if not the most distressing. It's a life-event that one spouse in every couple must eventually face, must endure. I've faced it. I have lived through it. Not easily, but I have survived. It will be 18 years this year. Always coming home to an empty house is not easy. My husband is not here to greet me, and the chair next to mine at the dinner table is always empty. My life seems to echo from the silence and I always shed a tear when I think of him, even after all of these years. Not nearly enough years together, yet so many memories we created together are all I have left. I treasure those memories... they make me laugh or cry, usually both. Losing a loved one really changes your entire life, especially when that person was also your best friend. We were definitely best friends. Something inside of me, specifically my Finnish Sisu, has always told me that I could survive!  And I have. Grief is a lifelong journey, but life does go on.

So many friends have wanted me to hook up with someone, they say I need someone. WTH? These are obviously people who don't really know me. I don't have the energy to give any amount of attention to another relationship; hence I haven't and never will. What the hell do I want to have another man around for? I am a pretty sufficient woman and I am proud of that.  I have never been lonely. I'm not that type of person who gets lonely. I am Finnish. We love our alone time. We can sometimes be happier to be with oneself than with people. Yeah, it's a strange quirk of the Finnish people. I credit that to my survival. But I will admit my dogs make me smile, they listen to me when I feel like talking and they certainly fill my life with love, humor and great friendships. My friend Laura laughs at me because I have conversations with my dogs. Why not? They understand me. They give me love and affection. They give me someone to care for and care about, all four of them.  They greet me when I come home, and lie on my lap or at my feet while I watch TV. Like I said, life does go on. My heart belongs to my companion animals.

                                                           Gypsy

                                                            Shep

                                                      Skye-Pilot

                                                           Kesa

Seriously, these dogs are awesome. Ok, my heart also belongs to the wild animals in the forest. Well, maybe not so much that stupid bobcat that was in my back property not long ago. When it comes to protecting my pets, I will not hesitate to kill. Unfortunately it was late at night, dark, and I was barefoot in the snow with an automatic handgun that jammed. Not thrilled with that 9mm at all. At least I got a couple shots off with my .38 (trusty little revolver that it is) to scare it out of the tree and leave.  It will be a long time before I forget that bobcat’s screams when Skye and Shep had it cornered. It’s a good thing they are big dogs and that bobcat had enough common sense to not attack as I think the dogs would have been the losers in that altercation.  No match to those long sharp claws.


Ralph would have been 67 years old today. I can't even imagine that. But then again, I couldn't have ever imagined me being 60 and well......here I am....freaking' 60 years old! Maybe I better rephrase that to - I couldn't imagine myself surviving to the age of 60. I am somewhat of a dare-devil. I take chances. I don't know if that is because I am adventuresome or just brain dead and lack common sense.  Who cares? I'm still here.

Now, Ralph was my second husband. I like to refer to my two marriages as equivalent to playing a hand of poker in Reno or Vegas. If you get a bad hand and then a good hand, do you really want to gamble on another hand? HELL NO. Lay those cards down and walk away. The first? Let me just say I have learned this...... The first rule of relationships - You don’t find out why someone was available until it’s too late. This is especially true of my first marriage. You know that tingly little feeling you get when you first like that person?  That’s common sense leaving your body. WALK AWAY.

Nonetheless, even though it would have been his birthday I am not going to say "Happy Birthday Ralph". That's stupid. You cannot have birthdays when you are dead. Yes, I am blunt. I also blame that on being Finnish. We don't hesitate to speak our minds. Or speak the truth.

And now, on to the rest of my blog:

My thoughts for today:

I’m pretty sure the whole “ladies first” thing was created by a guy just to check out girls butt’s. Yeah, for sure. And you guys think it's all about looking like a gentleman. Yeah, right. I know the truth because I have been known to hold a door open for a man. I know why I do it.Yeah, I'm 60. I'm not dead.

Everyone in the world talks about leaving a better planet for our kids. I think it would be much more appropriate if we left better kids for our planet.

I have learned that not doing anything with my life is surprisingly time consuming.

Remember, Karma has no menu. You get served what you deserve.

Many people will disappoint you in life. Don’t let any of them be you.

If you like to make love have sex while listening to music, definitely choose a live album. That way you’ll get applause every 3 to 4 minutes. Awesome.

Being a person is getting too complicated. Time to be a black bear. Anybody know where I can get a cute little 'tag-a-long' and a picnic basket?

What is with these self checkout lines nowadays? Was the self checkout line invented by a guy who was sent to the store to buy tampons?

What I'm thinking:

The next time I’m on an elevator with five or more complete strangers, I’m going to turn around and in my serious voice say, “I’m sure you’re wondering why I’ve gathered you all here, at this particular location, but a mission is a mission. Is everybody ready - locked and loaded?”
Wow, is there an elevator in this county? Yep, at Kohl's. Maybe Sears. Obviously it's been awhile since I've been to either, I just can't remember.
But, hell's bells, I can't think of a better way to have fun.

I just finished watching the HBO TV series, Games of Thrones, and now I  don’t know what to do with my life any more. I watched the complete Season 2 which was 10 episodes. In one week-end.  I was consumed by it. I haven't been so hooked on a series since Lord of the Rings. Ok, Twilight comes in 3rd. Obviously I like to live in a fantasy supernatural world huh?

My pissy mode:

I WILL NEVER FORGET. 3000 souls were killed in a senseless violent act on September 11.  I will remember all of those who lost their lives and I will always celebrate our heroes! I heard that Obama ordered the USPS to commission a Muslim stamp. A Muslim stamp? I was furious. All I could think of was the Muslim bombings of our military barracks in Saudi Arabia and Lebanon, the ship USS Cole, the World Trade Center- need I go on? Yes, I will. Our embassies in Africa were bombed by Muslims. And let us not forget the Pan Am Flight. I was ready to stage an uprising of my local Post Office if they even dared to offer me this stamp. Possibly even go 'postal' on them. I am calmed down now - it is not an official USPS stamp (although there have actually been Muslim stamps in the past!!). It was a stamp designed by zazzle.com. You can design anything there. It certainly would not surprise me if Obama had actually ordered such a stamp, after all he is a Muslim. I may be calmed down now, but I can still feel the rage inside just thinking about a Muslim stamp. I know I am not alone - my Finnish cousin in Florida and I have the same opinion.

Now that I unfortunately got on the subject of Obama, I just want to say (and yes Government's Big Brothers, come and get me...) the people of America who voted for him threw us under the bus. Again. Not once, but damn twice. And let me get this out.... Obama is NOT our first black president. He was born to a white mother and a black father. Never any mention of him being white huh?  He is Mulatto. So let's get this straight America. He is our half-black and half-white President. Quit saying he is our first black President. Furthermore, he's not the only U.S. President who had some Negro blood in him. The way this country is headed I wouldn't be surprised to see a Mexican illegal elected to the Presidency. I used to be a Proud American. Not so much nowadays. I could very easily leave this country.  It is NOT what my 4 grandparents immigrated to this country for. Not at all.  I no longer feel safe in the Country that I was born to. Sad.

I guess I do have a pissy mode goin' on today. No apologies on how I feel about this man. None whatsoever. Freedom of Speech.  I am always comfortable in my own skin. It is what it is.

Events of my past:

*    A local Deputy Sheriff came up to me recently and said, “Where were you between four and six?” I said, “Kindergarten.” He didn't find that too awfully humorous. Myself, I'm still rolling on the ground laughing my Finnish ass off. Like I have said before - the local cops up here have no sense of humor at all. Here's an example. One day I was at our local bar. The Sheriff's sub-station is right there - actually sharing an interior wall, that's how close it is. I, being a woman of no substantial sound judgment wanted to turn the tables on whomever this Deputy was who was in the sub-station. My grandkids had just visited the prior week-end and I just happened to have sidewalk chalk in my coat pocket. I marked his tires. All four of them. Yeah, he came into the bar asking who the hell did it. Too my surprise, nobody gave me up. I was impressed. Locals hiding the retired x-cop’s mischief from the on duty cop. Had he investigated this little act of vandalism a little closer he would have found chalk residue on the perp - me. Chalk residue - kind of convincing - as convincing as GSR (gun shot residue).  Yeah I love to mess with people.
A long time ago, when I first moved to this little mountain town I met a Deputy whose last name was Short. Seriously the name was fitting as this man could hardly see over his patrol unit's steering wheel. I kid you not. I tried to be friends with him but something went wrong. Thinking back on it, I now realize that it must have been when I asked him if he needed a 'booster chair' for his patrol car. No sense of humor at all. Hey, I'm short too, and I don't take offense to any short jokes. I'm seriously happy that he no longer patrols up here anymore; I swear he had it in for me. Just because I'm an x-Deputy, that doesn't mean I have to like all the other cops out there, and I don't.  I've never seen a lazier bunch of ....well, let's stop right here before I get myself into trouble.
 *duct tape on mouth now* 

*   OMG…!!! So, there I was in the public restroom at Costco and I had barely sat down when I heard a woman's voice in the next stall:
“Hi, how are you?”
Me:  (obviously embarrassed) “Doin’ just fine!”
Stall: “So, what are you up to?”
Me: “What the hell! Are you serious?”
Stall: “Can I come over?”
Me: (with my Finnish attitude) “Are you F-ing kidding me?????”
Stall: “Listen, I’ll have to call you back. There's some freak in the other stall who keeps answering all my questions”

Do people take their cell phones everywhere they go nowadays? I hope I don't get a call from someone on my cell phone and hear a toilet flush in the background. Don't do that to me. Post it on Facebook instead. I am not on Facebook. Just spare me. 
I guess it could have been worse, right? It could have been 'stall' asking me if I could spare a square. Incidentally I never spare a square. Don't ask. If you go in there UN-prepared, that’s on you. Which brings to mind....Why are there so many commercials for toilet paper? Who is NOT buying it?

*   I spent all of yesterday painting some kick ass flames on a truck. I hope my neighbor, who owns it, was stoked when he came out of the house and saw it. He works for  Cal-Fire.  I put a lot of time and effort into it. Sometimes I just can not stop my creativeness. I get compelled to do things. It’s my OCD. Fact of life.


As always, I like to end my blog on a joke.

Obama.