Have you bought your Girl Scout Cookies yet?

Q:  What’s green and yellow, green and yellow, green and yellow and covered with cookie crumbs? 
A:  A Girl Scout rolling over a cliff.  Old joke.

            It’s time to buy Girl Scout Cookies, a tradition throughout the USA at this time of year.  Today’s a new day in scouting and in cookie sales, though. All kinds of new cookies are currently for sale, including the traditional thin mints and butter cookies. Try the new favorites like tag-a-longs, samoas, do-si-does. Marvin loves the samoas and bought two boxes outside Belk’s yesterday.  (Just so you’ll rest comfortably:  Belk’s is next door to Lowe’s and he was dropping me off at the Clinique counter while he bought shower fittings!)

Not Girl Scout Cookies

               Girl Scout Cookie Time takes me reeling backward in time to my unfortunate experiences with scouting. Dear friends loved the program, the bike trips around town, the hiking adventures, and the close friendships forged at Girl Scout Camp. I wrote them letters while they were away, but I did not attend camp.  It’s a good thing that we’re all different and cherish those different passions in our girlfriends.



Goldfish/Koi Pond where FISH sleep.

 Fortunately my mother understood how uncomfortable I was in the scouting arena. One of the things I learned about myself:  I prefer comfort and conditioned air. I will enjoy invigorating outdoor air during the day, but want a comfortable bed and climate-control at night. And bugs, anywhere, it’s a no-go.

                   Please read my story about how I became a Girl Scout Drop-Out. Titled "Brownie Drops Out," the story had nothing to do with cookies.

A Day for Hearts; A Day for Home

             Something there is that defines a home, that craves a mommy and daddy, children growing up, family suppers and memories of special times.
              The generational home at 134 Harrison, the family home at 980 Truman, the one created for many years at 8124 Cairn Drive, the home wherein we sleep in security and awake to the sunrise of possibilities…the images contained therein are reflections of  “home.”
               In March of 2004, it was just a house. It did a great job, sheltered us all, and met my expectations. Cheerful, warm, inviting…it welcomed friends and family. We laughed there and enjoyed plenty of good times. There are pictures to prove it.
               The house had it all – as in everything I designed. Rich had his own requirements: “upstairs,” a game room with pool table and big tv.  Check, Check, Check.  A place for friends. Check.  David moved home from Knoxville to finish college, and there was room.

Plenty of room, so Mother could live with us after Daddy died.Then, Mother’s COPD and congestive heart failure worsened. Mother died, there in the den, on the chaise-lounge…with Hershey and me. 

Marvin and I held our wedding and reception in that house with many friends and family joining us.  The house was a great host for that happy occasion.

            Soon, David moved out, rented a house with friends and finished college.  Richard graduated and went to college in Chattanooga, living now in Charleston, SC.  Marvin and I spiritually moved our “home” to Arkansas, 2009, but we maintained 6406 W Forked River Cove as our hub of operations until we retired, January, 2012.  

It’s a great house: everything I designed.

            A house, though, craves a family at its heart.
             A family’s heart pumps life throughout the rooms. The house reflects the family’s love and becomes “home.”
             We sold the house on Thursday, to a mommy and daddy with 3 sons, a family with plenty of memories to make. Thursday was a day for hearts, a day for Home - Valentine’s Day, 2013.

An Afternoon with Ben Affleck

                Spending several hours with Ben Affleck on a Saturday afternoon was not priceless– it cost $12.00.  Afternoon prices dip a few dollars and we like to take advantage of any chance to save a couple of bucks when we go to the movies.  ARGO had been on the marque for only a short time at the Cinema 8, but the Oscar nominated film returned for a few afternoon showings.  We were excited to get to see it since the reviews had been excellent.
               While I’m not sure all the areas for the Oscar nominations, I’ll just say that the close-ups and opportunities to view Ben Affleck with a beard were Oscar worthy.  He is one fine looking gent,and a great actor, too.   He and George Clooney produced the movie.
              Interspersed with background shots of 1980’s television reports, including shots of Walter Cronkite, Tom Brokow, and Mike Wallace, the Iran Hostage Crisis came to life again.  We were somewhat privy to how it happened in the first place with footage almost documentary in nature. At the conclusion of the feature, similar “real-life” pictures, comparison shots, and statements about the 6 hostages rescued in this mission and the hostages who remained imprisoned for 444 days in the American Embassy in Iran flashed on the screen.  Jimmy Carter was seen in television clips and his Chief of Staff was depicted in the film. We’re really lucky that brave and determined Americans often forced the hand of administrative operatives, and our men and women on the ground, the ones with the real intelligence and the fortitude to carry out the plans, won the day.
                 The Eastern world of Iran, Iraq, Afghanistan, Turkey, and Egypt was depicted as totally chaotic, loud, aggressive, full of hate, and quite unnerving. I knew the hostages got out, but my nerves were shot by the time it actually happened.  Even if you are hesitant about seeing and sensing the Middle-East of the 1980’s, go see the film because of its Oscar merit, and because you will enjoy experiencing Ben Affleck, “up close and personal.”

Richard III and Maud Crawford: Who'da Thunk It !?!

British history plus William Shakespeare, and my attention is riveted.

         Seems archeologists and historians have barely slept while they researched potential burial sites for the evil hunchback king of England, Richard III. Their sleepless nights yielded fantasmagoric results:  He’s under a parking lot in a small English town.  Well, who’da thunk it.

        I read with great interest the article about the discovery and the DNA testing, the radiocarbon dating, and the assembling and private display of the king’s skeletal remains. Fascinating. Richard III was the last Plantagenet King of England,  dying in ruthless battle with the war's victor Henry VII (Tudor) ascending the English throne.  You’ll remember the Tudors for King Henry VIII and his long desire for the male heir. His beheaded wives would be interested to know that the law has now changed to allow the first born (male OR female) to claim the direct line to the throne. Rudyard Kipling encourages us to “keep our heads when all about us are losing theirs…”  Hmmmm.
                                      Enough of that.

Let’s get on to the real business, the real interest in unearthing Richard III’s bones. 

               If Richard III could be found under a parking lot in England, does it not follow that the remains of Maud Crawford, who has been notoriously missing since 1957, could now be discovered under the Safeway parking lot in Camden, Arkansas? If she’s not there, check the sealed up well near Berg Lake. www.charleyproject.org/cases/c/crawford_maud.html

                Let’s get busy!  Miss Maud is waiting.

To read more about Maud Crawford, see my Journey’s entry:  Bedtime Stories with Miss Maud.

Around the Corner and Down the Street

        “Early Spring,” says the Groundhog!  Oh, how my thighs hope he is right!  My walking routine has been severely disrupted due to bad weather, cold weather, rainy weather, cloudy weather, and occasional sunshine!
         The outdoors and I have a long-established a love/hate relationship.  It dates back to the moment Mother Nature determined to exact revenge on me for being a “Girl Scout Dropout.”  Try as I may to be a good sport, I just cannot get past spiders, bugs, and mosquitos. The aversion to the camping-out routine began when I was scolded for making a production of slapping mosquitos while sitting around a campfire – on a log, mind you! The Scout Leader told me to “quit, or just go inside!”  Oh, thank you, Jesus.  I thought she’d never exile me!  At a day-trip I ended my scouting career with subtle rebellion as I wondered aloud, “Why would anyone want to cook a baked potato in the ground when you have a perfectly good stove?????”

         Visiting out of town friends for weeks during the summer sometimes meant sucking it up and going with the group for an overnight at Girl Scout Camp.  I did not sleep a wink that one night, keeping watch for creeping spiders that could, if they had a mind to, climb up the leg of the cot and creep under the sheet onto my foot, or they could stealthily fall from the porch ceiling and perch upon my hand, or shoulder, or OMG, My Face!  How could anyone sleep under those creepy conditions?
        But, I do love breathing fresh air, taking in the scenes of pretty flowers and shrubs, shy jonquils, and landscaped lawns. I adore noticing how the seasons are changing.  Walking the 2+ miles daily I have enjoyed the tone my thighs and booty have achieved, and I also know I have lost some poundage, some fluffiness. Some ladies prefer the treadmill and the stationary bicycle.  Not me….even with TV, I grow tired of the same-ole scenery afforded by the indoor treadmill, and my knees can’t take the stationary bicycle nor the elliptical thing.  It’s that old cheerleader injury that I credit for every physical limitation.
        Friends recommend Yoga and Zumba, the golden oldies version.  Oh, how I wish there were classes here without having to drive to Kennett or Piggott.  I’ve gotten spoiled and don’t even like to drive 15 miles, unless I am shopping for a new outfit.  I prefer “just around the corner” and “down the street.”  And that's how I walk...around the corner and down the street.
        For now, I’ll build up my resolve to take up the Walking Routine again, just as soon as a few more buttercups decide to wave in the Early Spring breeze! I’ll gladly lace up my walking shoes for the pilgrimage, being sure to avoid spiders, bugs, and anything else creeping onto my path.