Bev's Antiquing, Schlepping, Schlogging, & Writing Blog Schlog

Creating Donovan’s Brain by Bev Hamel

2011-11-15T18:20:00.000-05:00

I am always thankful when the day’s rush hours are over and although each day typically ends in frenzy the same as the day begins, the ending frenzy is more relaxed and fun. Sometimes we all make dinner then homework, baths, hugs, giggles, and a monster mom story, which usually turns into bedlam when girls, dogs, and cats, chase after me from room to room. We act out each story; one of my silly ‘monster mom versus girls’ where the villain is always subdued with hugs and kisses.

Tonight I rushed through the routine because of my own homework; a writing assignment for one of Forsyth Tech classes. Finally, the girls are settled in their room pretending to be asleep but will probably be for real soon, so it was okay for me to attend to my own needs.Read more at http://allthingsgirl.com/2011/11/creating-donovans-brain-by-bev-hamel/

Veterans are Not Just Men . . . Women Were Soldiers Too

2011-11-11T19:42:00.001-05:00

Three pairs of eyes stare out from the photographs of three women, each wearing a Women's Army uniform from three different wars. A photograph of me in my Viet Nam era uniform sits next to one of my mother in her World War II uniform along with one of my daughter in her camouflage fatigues from the first war in Iraq.

I see me in my mother's reflection and I see my mother in my daughter's reflection. But it is the eyes that stare back at me, all three pairs, that tells me my inner strength comes equally from the women in my life as well as the men.

MILLIE
I had always thought that my mother's name was Millie until I stumbled across her birth certificate after she died and found that her given name was Amelia. I think the name Millie suited her better. In this portrait, she is twenty-three and on the back is written; 'red hair, hazel eyes.' Both my daughter and I have brown hair and brown eyes but I think even a stranger would agree that we have Millie's eyes.

My mother was a beautiful woman in her youth. Her eyes are full of life, of hope, of promise, of high expectations she set for herself, and instilled in me. Her eyes fit her personality, the one that I still remember. Not the Millie I knew during those troubled years of her battle in another war, the one that eventually took her life, the war with breast cancer.

I remember when I was seven and my brother was stricken with polio. I didn't know the sacrifices she made but realize now the necessity of why she instilled in me high ideals for my own self , for teaching me to be independent, for teaching me to look to my faith to guide me in troubled times, and to believe in myself.

I was nineteen when my mother died. She never saw me in my WAC uniform. She never knew my daughter Dana.

DANA

In this portrait, she looks stern and strong. Her eyes penetrate my very soul, and still have the capability to take my breath away. The first time I looked into her eyes, I was hopelessly lost, hopelessly in love. My daughter's eyes - so big - so brown so deep - like the ocean.

Dana looks like my mother, and she looks like me. It is in her eyes. They reflect her strength and her courage.

We are separated by distance but not by heart. And yes, I hurt not to be near her, and my five beautiful grandchildren, two who I have never held but in my dreams. Soon, she will be a grandmother and as I watch my granddaughter Tori and her tummy grow, I hope one day we will all be together again.

Any given moment of the day I only need to turn to facebook and there they all are, second best though it is, I can watch all of them grow.

BEV
I look so young in this picture and wonder where did this young woman go. Images of my life and all my yesterdays wash through me like a kaleidoscope of colors. I see thousands of tiny pieces that represent a moment of my life between then and now. In my now moment of life I can still see the young me peering through my glasses. My face shows fine lines of age, though I don't see them I know others do. I know where I have been, I know how I have lived, and I know there is still so much I want to do.

But lines on faces from age and life - I don't want to erase - each one is memory - good - bad - indifferent. I earned them. I learned from them.

My mother taught me. My daughters and granddaughters taught me - all of them - because my family is and has been blended.

I come from family lineage from both American and foreign lands where the men stood up to fight for their county's freedom, but I also came from a long line and heritage of women, who were soldiers too and in so many ways, stronger then men.

Why I Went Square and Ditched My Credit Card Machine

2011-11-10T16:47:00.000-05:00

My Square

Being Square is the best thing since sliced bread, because now my bank can no longer steal from me.
First there is no longer monthly fees of a minimum discount fee of $15.00 a month or higher. Then there is no longer the $5.99 charge for being in compliance. Then there is no longer the $5.00 access fee. Then there is no longer the actual discount fees each credit card company charges. And then there is no potential additional fees should I wish to speak with Merchant Services more then twice a month, and lastly there is the total avoidance of not having 28% of my merchant deposits held for a new law going into effect January 1, 2012.

Square and Mackie in
MyTouch 4G Khaki

Square is only 1 inch by 1 inch and is as portable as my cell phone. I just plug it in the top of my phone, tap on the app and speak into my phone or type in the necessary information. I am asked if I want receipt by email or SMS and then I'm done. Money is in my account at end of day and customer goes away happy.

So today I gleefully called Merchant Services and told them good by. I pulled the cord from the VeriFone, and the land line, and will now be placing it for sale as a genuine antique in my shop.

Very soon I will be doing this with my land line company and broadband provider, but I am still researching the possibilities which may be finalized as early as next week. Although I have to say I am tad bit nervous because the last time I did that - all hell broke loose.
We'll see.

Antique VeriFone For Sale

Thieves in the Night and Reward for Stolen Statues

2011-10-29T12:53:00.001-04:00

Stolen Statues

Stolen Grecian Lady Statue

This morning when I opened the front door of my shop, I looked out to starkness - empty spaces with rings and squares of dirt left by rain around the space where statues once stood. At first I couldn't believe my eyes and then an empty sadness came over me. This was not the first time thieves had pillaged the front of my shop. Earlier this year thieves stole two giant frogs and Easter Island heads.

So we put up more lights including motion detectors. Lights even go on inside and in the room above over-looking the front of my building. We even have seven Yorkie watch dogs, and a daughter whose two rooms are in the front of the building.

Empty Spaces

But the thieves came quietly in the night and went off with a total of 12 statues of varying shapes, sizes, and colors. They are all cement and heavy. They are all though, each one unique because each one was painted by me in eclectic blends of colors. I do a good business in selling them, frogs and Easter Island heads being the most popular. I carry them because they add interest and an eclectic look to my shops front exterior.

More Empty Spaces

So somebody needed them perhaps to sell at a flea market so they can make money. Or sell them to customers because the thieves are yard workers, or avid gardeners. One thing for certain, they are local and they drive a truck or van. All totaled they stole over $1500.00 worth of statues.

Even More Empty Space

I hope they are caught and get their just due.

More Empty Space

Empty Places

As for me, I am offering a reward for their safe return. But I doubt it - thieves are thieves after all.

A List of the Gone But Not Forgotten

1. Grecian Lady approx 4 ft tall

2. Pair (2) of Victorian Maple Leaf / Pineapple Statues about 65 pounds each - sand painted.

3. Light House Bird Bath - Silver, black, Red

4. Giant Stork/Heron Statue

5. Red Gnome/Elf

6. Easter Island Statue

7. Maui Head

8. Planter with Evergreen

9. Frog Statue

10. Tiered Frog Bath
11. Victorian planter
Giant Green Frog as seen on the upper right side of picture.

In Banks We Trust . . to keep coming up with new ways to steal our money.

2011-10-20T16:19:00.001-04:00

Free checking is like a dinosaur with most banks these days, extinct. Even though my checks are perfectly plain, I think twice before I write one because it costs me $.17 for each check.

Pity the poor banks who now have to"adjust our pricing to reflect today’s economics" as one was quoted saying in a newspaper article. Oh, but don't worry, if you keep a minimum balance of several thousand dollars to as low as $15, 000 on hand in some of the California banks - you won't be affected.

To quote another paper, "and with a new rule that just took affect that limits banks’ ability to make money from merchants, it also means paying for the privilege of swiping your debit card."

I expect momentarily for my bank, BB&T, to follow suit with the likes of Bank America, Wells Fargo, Citi, and a myriad of other State and local to join one of the greatest organized theft rings in the country, not to mention the world even though the French started (the trend) first. Give me a break, please, how can you test charging banking customers for using there own money? A debit card is a direct route to a bank account isn't it. It's bad enough if you can't find one of your own bank's teller machine and use another bank - you are often charged twice for the transaction - by your bank and the teller machine's bank.

Are we suppose to feel sorry for banks now because they can't over charge you for bouncing a check or screw the retailer with too high credit card processing fees. Wait a minute - first what you are not being told is that banks have been continually devising new ways to take both consumers and retailers' money.

Wait . . . You're the teller. I'm the customer!
No . . . I'm the teller. You're the customer!

I am both a consumer and a very small retailer and I am struggling to make a decision as not to take debit or credit cards in my shop, and to post a check or cash only sign. While this can and will hurt my business, my bank has been ruthless in slamming my account with fees. They have actually come up with a way to cover their perceived losses. One is called PCI DSS certification fee for the sheer pleasure of being compliant with your credit card machine. (excuse me - this the machine that I had to purchase from their merchant department and who processes all my transactions - but I am the one being charged).Then there is a net work access fee (oh- I pay for the phone line). Then there is the discount due, the card pass through fee is still there, and won't know the difference until next month, but last month, they took a whopping 45% of my sales. This isn't all - I received a letter from my bank as to another new law advising me that they must hold 28% of my payment card transactions due to a new IRS law if I don't comply (but they can't tell me how I need to comply)..

There's more to come and I imagine law makers in every state across the country jumping on Louisiana's band wagon. It seems the state just initiated a new law that bans cash for second hand transactions. This was posted on a Louisiana Eye Witness News: http://www.klfy.com/story/15717759/second-hand-dealer-law.

I hope you read the lame excuse that it's because the " bill is targeted at criminals who steal anything from copper to televisions, and sell them for a quick buck. Having a paper trail will make it easier for law enforcement."

Yeah - right on again. Just another new plan devising a way to get more of our money. The consumer has to pay with a debit or credit card; the shop owner must maintain a merchant account, and the credit card companies and banks will be happy again.

I can't wait to hear what they come up with next - - - any bets?

Hmm - now that I think of the criminals are to blame for this new law - so does this mean that the merchant can only purchase goods with a credit card in order to resell an item, and the crooks must also have a credit/debit card machine? Huh - Did I miss something here?

Merchant: "Hi Mr Crook - Sure I'll buy it, but I can't give you cash. Do you accept Visa/Master Card/ American Express or debit card?"

Crook: "Certainly. I have a wireless machine. They're fab"

Top Spin Ride at the Dixie Classic Fair

2011-10-04T14:46:00.000-04:00

Dixie Classic Fair in Forsyth County NC

2011-10-02T18:25:00.000-04:00

Me Like You . . . YUM!

Today was one of those beautiful Autumn days and what better way to while away the afternoon, but at the Dixie Classic Fair.

There was a time in my life when I used to go for the rides, but now I go to eat my way through the food, which, seems to get more outrageous every year. Such as the deep fried Kool-Aid and cheese cake. My favorite is the Gyros - The food vendor comes from New York where they know how to make real Gyros meat, not to mention the cumber sauce.

Super Heroes

The meat and fixings are so good, I send my husband there several times during the week (because he can get in for free) just to pick up a Gyro to-go-box, and one that we can reassemble at home.

Ceaser/Howdy Doody/Nero

Then there are the buildings and exhibits. Every year my daughter Beverly II's school, which is a special education school, participates, primarily through the art department. So the Education building is the second stop (after the Gyros). Earlier last week, Beverly who goes to Carter High School in Winston Salem, said, "Mom, Ms Goodwin asked if I could bring Ceaser to school so that she can enter him in the fair."

Ziggy the Cat

"You mean Ceaser aka Howdty Doody, aka Nero?." She giggled. She gave the bust to me for mother's day this past May and it has had a place of honor in my house since then. When I look at the face, I am torn between, Ceaser, Howdy Doody, and Nero. I just love the naivety and the kind of kooky happiness and grin that looks back at me.

"Of course you can, but we need to wrap him carefully," I said.

Needless to say, I was ecstatic when we walked down the aisle and I immediately say Howdy sitting with a Blue Ribbon next to him.

Carter HS Class Project

But behind Howdy was a collective class project which not only had a Blue Ribbon, but a Judges Best in Show Purple Ribbon, and then there was Ziggy (our cat) colorfully hanging on the wall with a Red Ribbon for second place next to him.

There was only one thing I could do and that was to go win a prize for my talented daughter. I tried bingo first, but that was a drag and after loosing $5.00, I decided to go for the gold.

My Shining Star and My Very
Own Super Hero

"You know, the booths with the biggest stuffed animals?" I told Beverly II and my husband, Bud the Plumber, "The biggest prizes mean the game is next to impossible to win. It's fixed."

So I bought a bucket of rings for $3.00 and tossed them on to a bottle and WON!

It was a piece of cake - almost as easy as eating the deep fried cheese cake.

http://youtu.be/Ct8-2ikpO24

For My Father

2011-09-25T19:37:00.000-04:00

Like father like daughter, we hide

behind gray puffs of smoke,

crave the acrid spice of nicotine.

His is Misty menthol,

mine Misty light.

A nasty habit that oddly comforts me

as once a month arrived

a slim white envelope

bearing his handwriting,

tidy, neat and even strokes

like ripples on a pond,

mailed from Pennsylvania

to Carolina, where cigarettes

were half the price.

I fed his addiction,

a ruse to keep his letters

binding him to me,

by a long distance cord

of a slim white paper cigarette.

Always bringing back,

Pictures in my mind,

scattering in slow motion through

a kaleidoscope, where

I could see him young with hair

untouched by grey,

tall and strong,

my anchor in the wind.

Take me for a ride daddy,

and he lifts me up into the air

high above his head

I will never let you fall,

higher still he thrusts me to the sky

beyond the billowy puffs of clouds

Now just reach for any star,

they’re all yours, he said

then taught me how to make them mine.

I went away to gather tiles

to build the mosaic of my life,

minutes vanished into days

years withered into air,

his hair now grey as evening sky,

bent and weak, he is

a pillar toppled by a winter breeze.

The letters stopped years ago, but in my

mind they still come

connecting us by a long distance cord

A slim white papered cigarette -

his is Misty menthol, mine is Misty light

and when night time shadows fall,

billowy clouds will always smoke

behind the stars that he made mine.

I love you daddy

Guilty Sunday Blues

2011-09-14T18:39:00.000-04:00

Instead of sitting in church, we are sitting in our car traveling north on Highway 52 from Winston-Salem. Our final destination is the winery at Chateau Morrisette which is nestled in a valley a short distance from milepost 171.5 along the Blue Ridge Parkway in Floyd, Virginia. Once there, my husband, daughter and I will indulge in one of the best Sunday Brunches that I have ever had (not to mention awesome wine tasting). Before we arrive at this destination, I indulge in another ulterior motive for our adventure – antiquing and junqueing along the highway through Mount Airy, North Carolina and Cana, Virginia. Read more at All Things Girl online

Remembering New York and 9/11

2011-09-11T11:26:00.001-04:00

1928 View Wall Street

On this eleventh day of September 2011, I will say a prayer and remember. I will remind myself that life can be taken from us at any given moment and I will try to treasure this day.

As a child I lived in Pennsylvania in a tiny town near the center of my father's large family. My mother's family was less than three hours away, in New Jersey and New York City. I grew up in a contrast of languages, my father's Pennsylvania Dutch, and my mother's Slovak, Polish, Russian, and other languages which confused me even more. I loved going on long extended visits to see my New York relatives. The sounds, smells, and sights of the city became embedded beneath my skin. After we moved to Florida, I quickly adapted to southern living and culture. As a young adult I got to travel to many places, some exotic, and some not so exotic. But this is how we grow, how the world goes around, changing places and changing faces.

I traveled to New York City on a fairly regular basis throughout my adult life as it is one of the main retail centers in the world. I had to be there during every major market week and many smaller mini-markets throughout the year. My first office in New York City was in the Empire State Building, on the 79th floor. One particular elevator always seemed eerie to me. Sometimes the noise seemed deafening, particularly on the rare occasions when I was the only one in the elevator. I also hated walking the winding corridor to the ladies room where heat and more noise radiated through the walls. The July of the first year after I joined the company, I found out why, although I was still in Chicago packing for a trip to the Big Apple. Parade magazine ran a big article on the military plane that crashed into the Empire State Building on July 28, 1945 --- smack dab into the 79th floor leaving a gaping hole 18 feet high and 20 feet wide and destroying the offices along the corridor to the ladies room.

Manhatten 1928

I had other offices, one on the Avenue of Americas, and one across fro the World Trade Center. I used to stop in the deli there for a bagel or breakfast sandwich. Occasionally I even had business meetings at the Trade Center, and friends. I left the corporate world for good when I opened my antique shop, but never forgot the excitement, or sounds, smells and sights of New York City.

In August of 2001, my husband and I had decided to move to another part of North Carolina and had just begun the process of purchasing a plantation and estate, looking to turn it into a B&B along with selling antiques. We had just returned from a final view of the property before making an offer when 911 happened. I know that the world stopped for many people on that day which forever altered our lives from one corner of the globe to the other. For me and my family, we stopped and took a long look around us and realized that home to us, was right where we were and should be.

Ground Zero 1928

Now ten years later, I realize even more how dramatically my life changed. I went back to College and then on to earn my MFA. I made many changes, some difficult and some because the world as we knew it, had changed. We are and will continue to be in a constant change of flux,

On this eleventh day of September 2011, the cloudless sky is crystal blue, the air holds a hint of the fall season soon to come. Summer still lingers, but shadows dance upon the walls minutes earlier then the day before. I imagine at the ground zero sight, at a field in Pennsylvania, and where ever people lost their lives on this fateful day, thousands of shadows dancing and hope that they are at peace, are at home.

Communications Error PART III

2011-09-10T14:04:00.000-04:00

A Comedy of Errors

To say that I am not happy right now, is an understatement.

Pure and simple, the companies that supply my cell phone lines (4), my landline (1) which also happens to be my Internet connection, and now my bank - SUCK.

Having made this announcement, I am certain my service will go from pathetic, to worse. I mention my bank because they keep coming up with new ways to keep my money.

After my last post on Communication Error Part II, my cell and land line service almost seized to exist.

This week did not start out very well. I had no bars on my 4G cell phone, and my land line had no dial tone. Although I was able to get on the internet with some of my computers, the internet speed was less then 1400 kbps. My land phone though, was dead (except if you attempted to call the number, you would get a busy signal).

First, T Mobile. Over the course of the past few months, due to many issues including being billed for text from a place called Mauritania, I connected with a supervisor named “Jennifer.” She has supposedly been overseeing my account because of the problems. So much for promises, such as free phones for renewing your contract, and that “Don’t worry, I have everything under control,” she tells me, and for a while I thought she did and did not worry. Our last conversation was that she would call me on September 2nd. I guess she meant a different year then 2011.

Moo Yorkie

But this isn't the half of it because I elected to go paperless billing and my T Mobile bill is still mysteriously not available to me, although it claims I owe them $444.00 (less change) for current charges. The bill was $644.00 but they evidently applied a credit of $200.00 based on a phone I purchased in July and which, instead of applying my charge card purchase to the phone, they applied it to a bill which did not generate until 11 days later (but they did ship my phone).

So beginning Monday, and successive days throughout the week, I spoke with numerous customer reps who had thick accents. After hours of trying to explain my months of T Mobile hell and nightmares, my connection with said reps, was dropped. Whether or not they cut me off (which, has happened often in the past) is another issue.

I am getting extremely tired of speaking with people who are very difficult to understand and I am still waiting to view a valid bill.

But at least the outcome with Windstream – my landline and Internet carrier – faired better.

It isn’t that I care about my land line although it my connection to the Internet, but I have had this number for almost 20 years and my family often forgets our cell phone numbers. I also keep this landline because on occasion, I accept credit card purchases in my shop.

I wont though after January 1, 2012. Accept credi card purchases that is. Not when my bank (BB&T) sent me a letter informing me that they must keep 28% (known as Federal backup withholding).

HUH?????

OUCH

They already charge me $5.00 a month for the sheer pleasure of using a credit card machine. They already charge me a pass through fee meaning just swiping a card through the machine. They already charge me $5.99 a month for being in Compliance. They already charge me a base fee of $15.00 a month as a minimal charge for Charges/debits. They already charge me an additional fee for said credit/debits of up to 6% a month depending upon the credit/debit card name/company. Not to mention that my previously free checking is no longer free and should I wish to pay by check, said check will cost $.18 per check to write. In short, I loose between $400.00 and $800.00 a year for doing business with them.

I Have a Headache

So much for being a loyal customer. Which is why my cell phone company, my land line company, and my bank, who all want my business, suck.

Cell Phones, Landlines, and Communications Error Part II

2011-09-01T14:53:00.000-04:00

Help. Get me out PLEASE!

I have been a loyal customerof TMobile who bought out SunCom and before that I had Verizon, who screwed meroyally. I won’t go into that but it was about “only the primary number"had allocated minutes and subsequently I was charged $600.00 for additionalminutes, although my total minutes were unused.

The explanation was verysimple – the line who used the minutes was not the primary number.

I will fast forward to thepresent and the past three months which have totally sucked up every ounce ofpatience I thought I had.

This particular time (yes –there was another ugly time when I tried to go wireless (and if you care toread about it – click on Communications Error by Bev Hamel), has been abysmal. It’strue, history does repeat itself, particularly on Sunday afternoons when Iclean up my computer from a weeks worth of internet surfing, or when my cell phonecontract is about to expire and I need to make a decision whether to stay withmy current company, or not.

We are!

Up until a few months ago, Ihad been happy with my cell phone carrier, T Mobile. I had not been happy withmy two teenage daughters and their cell phone usage, but I was safe – I hadfamily allowances and could control their usage. What I couldn’t control wastheir carelessness in taking care of their cell phones. There have beenmysteriously broken phones, dropped phones in places where one does not want togo fishing, not to mention confiscated phones that only a parental figure canreclaim. We have had stolen phones and phones that disintegrated through wearand tear – but no one admits to being responsible.

This is not T Mobile’s fault,but the unauthorized text messages and charges to my account when parentalcontrols were in place, is. No one in my family knows any one from

Mauritania

, nor do we even know where it is though throughGoogling the number and name,

Mauritania

is a country in West Africa and an Islamic Republic.

Not one of us received amessage – just a charge. Okay so $.20 is nothing, but it does add up. The firsttime I called customer service, I was told – text back to “STOP.”

“How do I do that? The phonedoesn’t ring and there is no record of receiving the message on our actualphones. The only way I know about this is because the charges are on my bill!”

“That is not possible,” avery thickly accented voice replies.

Where is Muriatania?

“Can you explain to me why Ihave my phone turned off and I am asleep at 3:00 in the morning? In fact all my other three cell phoneusers are asleep as well. Can’t you stop this?”

“No,” the voice said. ”Wecan’t block International calling or text, besides you have parental controland family allowances.”

I'd rather have the parentalcontrols. The messages continued and sodid the charges. I continued to spend quality time on the phone with T Mobilecustomer service. requesting the charges be removed. Every person I spoke withhad a different solution.

So, this was my first problem– I talked to many customer service people until I demanded a supervisor. Butit still took hours, days and weeks to resolve. I am not sure if this wasfinally resolved because I condescendedto renewing my contract, getting new phones, adding an unlimited text and data planfor my family, with the exception that the two teenage people in my family - have 500 minutes each. One of these peopleused the minutes in a few days, and although the text messaging was unlimited,the other teenaged person, made international calls to

Morocco

(which were not in the plan), while the male parentalfigure accidentally downloaded a bloat ware app though I told him the AndroidMarket is loaded with free apps.

Ok, so I love my new Khaki Slide!

This, though is not the laststraw. It seems somehow, my new family plan racked up a whopping $653.00 billthis month. It seems there was a littlebit of communication error, between customer service reps and supervisors, notto mention it turned out the free phones we were suppose to receive, weren'tfree after all.

If only this was all, and Iwont go into detail, but between the severe storms, earthquake, my Windstream landline and broad band connection went puff! New phones, new modem, new plan, andtwo weeks later, a new bill, I am ready to become a hermit.

However, we no longer have textmessages from

Mauritania

showing up. They are now coming from

EGYPT

Earthquakes and In Memory Of a Best Friend

2011-08-24T13:03:00.002-04:00

Between yesterday and today, I am in a daze and heartbroken. I have recovered from the event of yesterday, after all it was a mere earthquake.

Yesterday just before 2:00, I was sitting at my desk when I heard my puppies howling and barking then came a a roar and I felt a rush of energy burst through my shop. The overhead pipes, ceiling fans and even furniture rattled and shook. The phenomena seemed to last for minutes and as quickly as it began, stopped in dead silence. I called my husband and asked him what happened - he didn't know because he was outside. I had him go through the building both inside and out even though I didn't know at the time that what I felt was an earthquake and besides, we don't have earthquakes in Bethania, let alone North Carolina, or the East coast. I heard it on the news later in the evening. It was a weird feeling to find out the jolt registered 5.8 on the Richter scale.

Then this morning I heard a loud rush of speed, a thud and a thump from the same location by my desk. The noise came from outside the front of my shop. I went to look and saw a man in the middle of the street - he was a neighbor from up the road who had been walking his large dog, a pretty and friendly honey colored Lab mix. A car had zoomed by, going at least double our 25 MPH speed limit and is why I am heartbroken, dazed and numb. I watched as he lifted the lifeless body and took him to the side of the road and held the dog as it died. The car driver never stopped.

I have seven Yorkies and all of them are my best friends. I am so sorry for you my neighbor, and I feel your pain and your loss. We all do.

POST SCRIPT
My husband just returned from the post office which should have taken only a few minutes and instead it took thirty - A van in front of him hit a small dog and took off and left it there on the road. My husband and another man went to help. They saw a tethered leash and an empty collar on the porch. The owner of the dog was inside, but in a wheel chair. The puppy was dazed but still needed care - I hope it will survive. This is a day I just want to stand outside and scream at all the speeders to slow down.

Tonight I am going to have a free-for-all with my puppies, give them extra treats, and watch their favorite movie. I will let them kiss my face as much as they want and let them help take away the sadness of this day. But then, they always do.

Writing History is Like Putting Together a Puzzle

2011-08-13T16:58:00.000-04:00

Miller and Green Store Pauls Valley, Indian Territory

Although the sign says it is the C. J. Grant Store, the building was the original Miller and Green store and initially operated by Frank Miller before he took on a partner named Thomas M Green.

I know this because of the trip that I have been on --- lost in Pauls Valley, Indian Territory before it became the state of Oklahoma, traveling through time and space from Winston, North Carolina, before it became Winston-Salem, To say that that it's been an amazing trip, is not the least, because I have also met several wonderful historians and writers whose knowledge of the west and its settlement have fueled my research and detective work. The problem is, my puzzle is growing at the same time the pieces are falling into place. The picture above was forwarded to me by OK historian Mike Tower and courtesy of the Pauls Valley Depot Museum. The photograph was taken after 1888, before the building burnt to the ground. Mike tells me that the only reason the picture of the store exists is because C. J. Grant had it moved parts by parts on wagons from its original location, which was located on the confluence of Rush Creek, about a mile south of where the present town exists.

I already knew that Frank Miller sold the business to Grant after Green was killed in 1886. But what I didn't know was from early Garvin County Historical notes that Miller gave half of the business to a Tom Martin who was a nephew of Miller or Green. But then it hit me from already tons of my local Winston Research, Tom Martin was the son of Dr Samuel Martin of Winston, who married Miss Limmie Miller in 1856, daughter of Harmon Miller Esq, and Frank Miller's oldest sister.

C. J. Grant is Calvin Grant, son of Colonel Thomas Grant who was one of the first settlers in Pauls Valley. The Colonel is the first cousin of Ulysses S Grant. A co-incidence is that the house the former president lived in before and after the Civil War, in Galena, Illinois, is identical to the home that my husband and I restored in DeKalb, Illinois, for JJ Kingsley who is considered the father of Hybrid corn. But before I go off on a tangent and another story I need to write, I need to finish the one I am on, which is an amazing saga spilling from two Victorian trunks, and pieces of papers and letters spanning 200 years.

Pauls Valley Indian Territory and a Man Named Frank Miller

2011-08-01T16:48:00.003-04:00

Pauls Valley

I was going to post a new blog much earlier then this, but because of the state of our Nation's budget crisis, I'd keep the publication up. Sometimes prayers can be far reaching. Besides I have been on a long journey of discovery taking me back through time in researching historical records of place and elements of life for a book that I have not yet determined to be a history book or a historical fiction book.

Frank Miller taken about 1870
St Louis

My quest involves Cowboys, Indians, Pauls Valley, Oklahoma, Arkansas, Texas, and a man named Frank Miller who arrived in Pauls Valley, then Indian Territory from Winston, somewhere around 1870, though he most likely was in the West earlier. The story is an intriguing one because Harmon Miller, Frank's father was one of the first to settle Winston, in the new county of Forsyth, NC in 1849. Before Harmon's death in 1861, the family had amassed considerable property, had a hotel, brick buildings, a mercantile store, and land throughout several counties.

Jesse James

Frank's two brothers, both ranking officers, were killed in the Civil War. Frank was in the war too, and served at least, some of the war in New Bern and Wilmington - the home of Smith Paul, originally from New Bern NC and who Pauls Valley is named after. We have Frank's brothers (war0 records available, but we do not have Franks. Family history though suggests that he may have been a blockade runner.

Because of numerous historical facts an some very interesting records and letters, also allude that Frank Miller may have served on the side of the North. This material is intricate, but documented because there were many men of southern origins who did not believe in what the American Civil War was about. That there were Southern deserters who lost there faith in the war and the cause is known - the war took its toll on human frailties.

The aftermath of the war and reconstruction era, was a nightmare at best,; but southern men who had defected were perhaps more ostracized then even African Americans, and Northern deserter. Although Frank Miller's family roots were deeply embedded in his birthplace, along with the family's land investments that were able to be sustained through many careful and cautious manipulations, even the disintegration of confederate currency, did not create financial difficulty.

Forgiveness from within the local deeply southern community which Frank Miller lived, would take many years. This was not uncommon and many Civil War veterans removed their selves, as well as their families away from the community in which they had known.

"Go West, Young Man, Go West" an unknown source quote, published in a newspaper published by Horace Greeley, became the inner most thought of many men - young and old alike. The idyllic image of growing with your country, of greener pastures, of untamed wilderness, of roots- hog - or die, and of adventure - opened up a chance for a new life, and for possibly forgetting and for forgiveness.

By the early 1870s, Pauls Valley became known as a way station for the cream of the crop, wild, wild west bad buys and gangs; such as Billy the Kid, the James Brothers, the Younger Brothers, so the well known Bounty hunters, along with sheriffs, and the Calvery made frequent pit stops there including Custer. It was not an uncommon sight to find dead men along the dirt roads, hanging in trees, or lying half submerged in water. Some would still have their hair and other's would not. The same way with their boots, which became a must for cowboys - hoping to die with their boots on.

Gen George Custer

Frank Miller had to have "True Grit" because he operated a trading post, was licensed by the Government to, pay the freighters who drove cattle through the rich valley and supplies to Ft Sill and other Forts within a wide range. He was also the postmaster for many years, raised several thousand heads of cattle on his spread, had a telegraph, financed the first bank in Sherman Texas, Sacremento, Ca, Oklahoma City and in Pauls Valley. (Not to mention back in Winston, RJ Reynolds and his tobacco endeavors, and then his brother in-law - George Hinshaw's bank and the bank that would become Wachovia).

But back to Frank Miller and the Wild West. By 1872, he had a partner named Thomas Green and in 1877, he returned to Winston, took care of some business, and married Ida Wharton, a prominent Clemmons Doctor's daughter and brought her to his home in the West. She too must of had grit because she bore Frank five children, two boys died in infancy.

Pauls Valley

Frank spent about 15 years, that I can document, In Pauls Valley; but the date that seems to point to the family's retrurn to Winston and North Carolina is about 1886, when the railroad came to Pauls Valley. This is also when his partner Tom Greene was killed while herding cattle and preparing for the trip near the Washita River. This is also about the time the Wild West became even wilder. Ida too, was expecting, so I think Green's death was the last straw for her.

I still have some research to do, but the story has been bubbling inside me for too long a time now and is hankering to come out. In the mean time . . . . .

The First Prayer in Congress published by H. V. Wright, Washington City

2011-07-02T14:22:00.000-04:00

This is one of the first printed copies of The First Prayer in Congress made available to the public and was published by H. V. Wright, Washington City. He notes, "In "Thatcher's Military Journal," under date of December 1777, is found a note containing the identical "First Prayer in Congress," made b the Rev. Jacob Duche, a gentleman of great eloquence, Here it is - a historical curiosity."

The prayer was published in Thatcher's Journal in 1823. You can read more on this historical document at The Foundation Forum.

Historians of the 20th Century differ on the actual date and year it was read, but the prayer is grounded in the birth of our nation and as fitting for our stressful time as at any previous time in our country's struggles.

Enjoy and have a safe and happy Fourth of July!

Celebrating the First of July

2011-07-01T13:20:00.000-04:00

The Bombardment of Fort Henry
by Bill Alderfer

Today is may dad’s birthday. I will not say the year that he was born, except that he is possibly older then dirt and candles should be banned from his birthday cake.

On the other hand, my dad is an amazing artist, still handsome and brilliant.

My dad is a WWII Veteran, wanted to study linguistics, and speak Chinese, But he had a growing family – three children and a wife who demanded that her husband concentrate on “bringing them up.” including learning cooking, books, and anything that had to do with paper besides books – but real period paper, 16th - 17th - 18th and 19^th century material – the stuff that most people ignore or throw away.

Some of the papers came from our 17th Century home in Pennsylvania, which is how the bug for old homes became imbedded in my life, as did antiques. The papers were used as insulation beneath floor boards and stuffed between log walls and beams.

I remember going through boxes of my dad's "stash,” and pulling out an original newspaper with George Washington's address to the troops from Valley Forge. Then there were boxes of old letters and other papers from the Revolutionary War through the Civil War.

Which brings me to the fact that in a few days, on July 4, our country, which is also older then dirt, will be celebrating its 235th birthday.

My dad isn't that old, but I sent him one of those talking cards that warns the people who live in the vicinity of his apartment in Hatfield, Pa - to run for cover because there is a fire going on but actually its his birthday cake with all its candles.

I warned you dad --- Happy Birthday!

Why I Have Six Yorkies in My Bed

2011-06-12T20:32:00.000-04:00

Actually on occasion, I have seven - when my daughter visits or asks us to "puppy sit." Said puppy is my "grandpuppy" and while she is not with us all the time, she remembers and knows who we are. Anyone who believes that dogs don't have memories, let me assure you they do. When Mizzie comes to visit - pandemonium erupts and we have a wild and crazy time. First Zoie and Zack (the parents) attack her, and then the rest of the gang. They immediately run into my bedroom and have a free-for-all on my bed.

I am to Cute for you to be Mad

This is a daily occurrence and the main reason why my bed never gets made. In reality, life with six Yorkie puppies in our house everyday is a wild and crazy time because the puppies like to party - they are after all Yorkshire Terriers, which is very close to terrors - which right now is synonymous with termites - (they like to chew and are going through an exceedingly long teething stage). Besides toys, chewbones, every paper product imaginable, we have glasses, cell phones, remote controls, every flavor of wood in furniture, pillows, foam, each other, and of course, anything that drops on the floor - such as this Jalapeno pepper, which fell on the floor while I was making "Garnachoes."

Teeth Marked Jalapeno

So if anyone cares, I am a glutton for my Yorkie puppies and except full responsibility for their care and upbringing. Thet have been potty trained (sort of) since they were three weeks. They are healthy, have all their shots, and one by one or getting neutered. We never expected for Zoie and Zack to have five puppies, but even more so was the fact that I simply could not sell any of them, particularly after being there from birth through it all.

I am Lizzie and I Love to Kissie You

I watched as Zoie would rush into the puppy palace and nod her head then bark as if she was counting to make sure all puppies were accounted for. Call me crazy - I am - crazy for my Yorkies and well not having a well-made bed --- who gives a d_ mn!

We no longer have a four poster bed that one needed a ladder to climb into. All the puppies can climb easily in and out, but more importantly, so can my husband, "Bud the Plumber," when the puppies let him that is.

.

Why is Bethania North Carolina a National Treasure and a Landmark Town?

2011-06-05T16:37:00.002-04:00

On June 12, 2011, the tiny town of Bethania, North Carolina will turn 252 years old. On this coming Saturday June 11 the town will hold a celebration honoring this event. Few towns in our country, even any country can boast of such extensive record taking, or documentation of family histories. Although the beginnings of Bethania are deeply rooted in the Moravian Religion which is the oldest protestant religion in the worlds, the town itself was settled by both Moravian and non-Moravian families.

Bethania, North Carolina, is the last of its line,a pioneer town founded on June 12, 1759, out of the need to establish the roots of religious freedom. A historically significant town, Bethania is the first planned Moravian town lot in the Wachovia tract of North Carolina. Listed on the State and National Registers of Historic Places, the town became a National Landmark in 2001.

Colonial homes, some still lived in by descendants of the first white Moravian settlers, line Bethania’s main street and are symbols of how so much of the town’s character remains intact. Simple yet elegantly understated, the homes represent the regional architecture of the colonial era in which they were built.

The homes have names, attesting to former owners. On the corner of Loesch Lane and Main Street is a tall, stately house that bears the name Johann Christian Loesch. Loesch’s son, Israel, was a U.S. representative during Reconstruction and president of the Cape Fear Bank and the First National Bank in Salem, which became Wachovia Bank. Across the street on the opposite corner is the Cornwallis house, given the name of a Revolutionary War general who spent the night in the home during a raid and subsequent encampment in the town.

Beyond the distinction of its Main Street homes standing as monuments to an earlier century, Bethania was once a thriving industrial and trade town. The Great Wagon Road of the colonial era brought soldiers, settlers and slaves through the town daily. The longest and costliest plank road of the pre–Civil War South ran 129 miles from Fayetteville on the Carolina coast and ended at the corner of Main Street and Loesch Lane.

What is unique about Bethania today is its history as a community that began as an experiment in melding cultures. Its first settlers were chosen from Moravian and non-Moravian families who created the town in a hostile frontier. In 1766, Bethanians helped found the town of Salem in the newly formed colony of North Carolina, thus contributing to the birth of our nation.

My book, Bethania: The Village by the Black Walnut Bottom, published in 2009 by The History Press is not just a history of the founding of Bethania, but of people who carved a life from an untamed frontier. Many families grew, multiplied, and spread into other regions of this country. Eventually many would fight their own relatives in a civil war for different causes and even become permanently separated from their ancestry.

Please join the town of Bethania on Saturday June 11th. And if you are interested in reading more history of Bethania, excerpts from the book can be found at http://antiquesinbethania.com/bethaniabook%20excerpts.html.

Slave Cabin

The images in the book are from original glass negatives taken by J. L. Kapp around the turn of the century and modern day photography by Bowman Gray IV, whose recently published book, As A Man Thinketh and Bo's original photography, can be found here, http://www.blairpub.com/alltitles/asmanthinketh.htm or VISIT WFDD for an audio interview with Bo and I and David Ford.

Fishing Lessons

2011-06-02T15:49:00.000-04:00

The lake behind our home in Clemmons, North Carolina is really a small pond and though manmade, it is well stocked. Our neighbors imported white sand for their beach. Ours is a dull gray but my husband built a dock where I am standing now, teaching my daughter to fish. Although my daughter is only four, I bought her a child-sized pink fishing pole for the occasion.

I bend down to help her cast the fishing pole. The sun has dampened her curls. She has just finished eating an orange and the peels are scattered over the deck. She smells of oranges and salty sweat.

“Look mommy.”

She is giggling and pointing out into the water. I follow her gaze to the other side of the pond where Blue Heron love to nestle along the sandy banks. There is a shadow, definitely not a tall lanky bird, moving towards us.

My frown becomes a grin when I realize that the shadow is my mother. Impossible. She died of breast cancer when I was eighteen.

Then I hear a whisper in the soft summer breeze, “Please remember me,” she says, “please remember me.” Read More at All Things Girl . . .

Double Exposure: Meet the Stoap Twins (Part Two) by Bev Hamel

2011-06-02T12:10:00.000-04:00

Give us your “elevator speech” about who you are besides being the Stoap Twins of Million Dollar Listing fame.

We are definitely individuals with unique personalities who happen to be best friends and love working together! Marissa is sort of the communicator, because both in real estate and in our personal lives she is the social butterfly. She loves making the calls, doing the planning, and getting people together for business or for fun! Julianna is super tenacious, she’s the negotiator. Julianna never takes no for an answer and is always coming up with creative ways to take our careers to the next level. Not to mention her ability to get us through any door or to the front of any concert without fail! We were raised on real estate by our parents, who have been top-producing Realtors for nearly 20 years. After getting our degrees from USC, we found that real estate was definitely in our blood… and that we loved the idea of pursuing a career together where we could achieve an unlimited amount of success. After all, you are your own boss in real estate, and the sky is the limit! What sets us apart from other agents is that you really do get two for the price of one! We each bring individual skills to the table and are an unstoppable team. Also, we are extremely hands on with our clients and extremely communicative. We take every phone call (seriously, at all hours!) to make sure the people we work with feel comfortable and know exactly what’s going on. We also have a rare combination of elements in our business: We’re young with fresh, creative ways of marketing and demonstrating the exciting lifestyle each listing can offer, coupled with a great deal of knowledge, several years experience, and literally growing up hearing about and learning about real estate every day. Read More at All Things Girl . . .

Double Exposure: Meet the Stoap Twins (Part One)

2011-05-11T12:29:00.000-04:00

Meet Julianna and Marissa Stoap, the New Twin Secret Weapon(s) of Bravo’s Hit Reality TV Series, Million Dollar Listing (Part One)
The real estate market is in a funk everywhere yet Million Dollar Listing, now in its fourth season, is still a success despite the recession. The show really is not just about the glamorous high-end luxury properties of the market but inter-personal drama and the three “bad boys of real estate” who admittedly “will do anything possible to sell the dream.” Enter newcomer Josh Altman who replaced Chad Rogers and has an entourage of assistants, though crazy Mickey is his main man. Madison Hildebrand announced he was gay at the end of last season and takes on a straight female assistant named Heather. Then there is Josh Flagg who has his grandmother, the queen of polyester, famed Edith Flagg for advice, and who advises Josh to hire an assistant as long as he/she has clean fingernails. Josh decides two blonde heads are better than one and takes on two interns as opposed to one assistant. Read more at All Things Girl . . .

Jelly Beans, Nightmares, and a Moravian Brass Band

2011-04-26T10:59:00.001-04:00

My husband, Bud the Plumber brought home Jelly Beans from the Fresh Market last Saturday along with $400.00 worth of other purchases from assorted stores throughout Forsyth County for our Easter feasts (which, were carefully planned and budgeted though he exceeded the budget).

“I already got Jelly Beans at the Dollar tree,” I told him.

“These are gourmet. They’re Jelly Belly’s and they come in a hundred different flavors. I got you your favorite – black – the licorice ones. See – they’re all at the bottom of the bag.”

Indeed they were – in a small bag, barely one fourth the size of the bag I purchased for $1.00. The price tag based on weight, would have sent the National debt into doomsday (which, coincidently, was the title of the local paper’s business section this morning. I mention this because the size of the national debt, the size of my local paper, the size of the no-name bag of jelly beans, the size of the gourmet bag of Jelly beans and the fact that the US Banking System will no longer offer free checks, are my next blog, and why I had nightmares last night).

Bethania Moravian Brass Band 1900 Image

I had to eat all the other beans from the bag in order to get to the black Jelly Bellies. Obviously there was a flavor that disagreed with me, and gave me nightmares, which, began about two AM.

I had fallen asleep when suddenly, a band playing brass instruments was serenading me outside my window and I was being profusely kissed by a hundred or so tongues. I sat up, fumbled for the bed light and said damn, while my other hand tried to find the TV clicker.

Seven Yorkie puppies attacked me in unison, one dropped the TV clicker, (which, I really had been certain that I turned off the TV because my glasses were off and my book closed and by the lamp).

Angel Yorkies

We normally only have six Yorkie puppies in bed, but this weekend, our youngest daughter was here to celebrate Easter with us because she knew her dad would buy gourmet Jelly Bellies. She brought our first born girl Yorkie, Mizzie, who had to sleep with all her brothers and sisters, as well as mom, dad, and us. Thankfully they are small dogs, weigh less then one full grown Golden Retriever or the like – but oh – they often seem like 101 Dalmatians.

Okay, so back to finding the TV clicker AKA remote (which, may disintegrate at a moments notice because of the thousand of tiny razor sharp teeth marks that cover the plastic). We will be SOL if this no longer works because the BIG Screen TV, which we purchased at Sam’s Club, only operates by REMOTE (This will be another rant one day because the TV has NO buttons etc on the TV itself).

Anyway, the Brass Band I thought I heard was real and still playing.

Bethania Easter Sunrise 1950s

“We’re late for Easter Sunrise Service, I thought even though it was next to impossible to be late for this memorable Moravian Easter tradition because we live across the street from our Church. It sounded very clearly that the service had already started.

I leaned over the bed and looked at the clock. Of course, how could I forget – Moravian tradition, celebrated for centuries - the Night Watch. and the early morning call of the brass instruments for all to wake. Here in Bethania, the brass instruments have played the same notes for more then 250 years, and I think last night, the band added something new because I most definitely heard a voice that said, “If this doesn’t wake them nothing will.”

Mom Zoie . . . Leader of the Pack

The puppies agreed and proceeded to add their own version of a brass band calling a small Moravian town awake to celebrate the promise and hope for a new beginning. However, next year, I think I'll ask for a separate bag of black Jelly Beans and get a new remote control that is encased in metal.

Viruses, Death, Taxes . . . and Why I'm Ready for Spring

2011-03-18T11:20:00.000-04:00

March has been a busy month for me. Three of my computers contacted viruses, died, and although now resuscitated, (almost) I lost a lot of data even though I did do a back up on an external drive, but I think the drives may have a virus as well.

Yesterday I killed two space heaters, not intentionally, but because of my clumsiness. The first one was by my desk in my shop. I was so excited after spending all week completing my taxes and e-filing them myself, that I jumped from my chair in celebration and knocked the heater over, breaking off the wheels and the cover. Dead - and rendered utterly useless. Oh well I thought, Spring is almost here, the birds are singing, the weather outside comfortable, the building finally heating up on its own, and at least my taxes are done.

But I didn't stop there. After closing up the shop and going to upstairs to our home, I opened up the back porch to accommodate the puppies - six of them, then sat down at my desk, and proceeded to knock over an identical heater, which also broke its wheels, flipped off the cover, and rendered it useless.

At least I have my taxes done and I'll be able to use my refund to buy massive quantities of Spring cleaning supplies at the Dollar Tree!

March Issue of All Things Girl

2011-03-03T11:19:00.002-05:00

An American Portrait: Chief John Grass by Bev Hamel

It is January and I am taking a break from my MFA residency at Goddard College in Vermont. I just finished trekking through snow into the town of Plainfield to visit my favorite haunt – an obscure little bookstore that bursts with endless shelves of books no longer in print. The proprietor recognizes me as I have purchased many books from him during my almost two years at Goddard. He leads me through winding rooms into what was once a kitchen area, climbs a ladder and then brings down a heavy box. He tells me, “We just got these books in from an estate. I haven’t had a chance to catalogue them yet, but you are welcome to take a look.”
read more at All Things Girl!

Why Things Happen for a Reason . . . and My Writer's Slump

2011-02-26T16:36:00.003-05:00

Ida Miller

Sometimes 'things' come into my possession for unknown reasons, such as the two trunks I purchased soon after I opened my antique shop in 1997. Both the trunks and their contents were destined for the trash pile so of course I had to save their destiny.

The trunks sat in my back room for many moons until I finally had the opportunity to open them. Inside one trunk was vintage clothing from the turn of the century. Inside the other trunk beneath more cloth, were yellowed and deteriorating papers and letters.

Frank Miller

The letters and papers captured my imagination. There are often times I can't part with 'things' and this was one such occasion. Eventually I would come to find that the material dated back to the Civil War era and ended abruptly in the early 1970's. I organized them in files and folders, attempted to categorize them, and told myself, "I will write a book one day."

But then I got caught up in life, school, and writing other books and stories, as well as amassing other boxes and collections of papers from someone else's past.

My Mess

Over the past year I have been in a writer's slump. I kept going from one project to another and never completed anything. My store and desk area became a disgrace, piles of books and boxes of papers were stacked everywhere. They spilled over into the other two rooms next to me and barely allowed me enough room to pass through. Each pile and box had a purpose - their contents held material for one of my stories - some were destined for books I wanted to write.

Clint or Frank Miller

I was good at finding excuses why I couldn't write, which is why I started to schlog. Then the puppies came along in November, of course there was Christmas, snow filled January, Valentines Day, my birthday, and both my laptop and main computer got viruses and had to be crashed and wiped out of everything. I think they are back, though I lost a lot of material including digital pictures and videos that did not get saved.

The good news is that I am out of my writer's slump. I have story that will be published in the coming online issue at Allthings Girl, and today, a woman called after finding a blog I did last fall on, Clint Miller, Lost History and Winston-Salem.

Ida Wharton Miller and Child

It turns out she is a descendent of the material in the trunks. All the trunks belonged to a different branch; however, the history inside is hers. She was so excited she called her 94 years-young father. So know I no longer have an excuse for feeling slumpy about what to write about.

Which is why I am a firm believer that 'things' happen for a reason.

Why I Have The Yorkie Puppy Blues

2011-02-08T12:13:00.000-05:00

The puppies are ten and a half weeks old now and I get sadder by the minute because I must let some go to new homes. I and my husband have become so attached. Our nightly ritual is to put the gates up, bring out the snake ball tunnel, then bring puppies out of the palace. The atmosphere is mayhem as well as a mass puppy kiss attack. The littlest, Aggie, who is on the far right, is a clown. She may be small, but she has no qualms about chasing after her bigger brothers and sisters.

Aggie

Daddy Zack prefers to watch from outside the gates when the puppies are out. Mommy Zoie has as much fun as the puppies. I really don't know how she is going to take letting her puppies go. She actually sits on her perch above the place and nods her head up and down to make sure all the puppies are there. My daughter Kristen is taking Mizzy. So I know one will be going to a good home and Kristen has promised to bring Mizzie over often.

Aggie and Chewie are going to stay with us. Mackie and Lizzie are why I have the Yorkie puppy blues. Wouldn't you too if you had to choose?

Chewie, Mizzie, Mackie, and Lizzie

Five Yorkie Puppies Ten Weeks Old

2011-02-08T11:51:00.000-05:00

Five Yorkie Puppies 9 Weeks Old

2011-01-31T16:37:00.000-05:00

Why I Am Wearing Red on Wednesday, January 26, 2011

2011-01-25T20:13:00.001-05:00

This isn't about the bombing in Moscow, but it easily could be, and another 911 in America. Today I learned that the school systems here in North Carolina are in jeopardy. This is not the all of it, because in most states, your legislature is in the throes of voting. Budget cuts - everywhere and the biggest target is in statewide school systems.

I was privy to my own school systems pending cuts, a locality where there is just slightly under 10% unemployment and God (as well as Social Services) knows, the growing illegal aliens who drain the available funds.

So I sent a message to my states representatives,--- Please, please do not cut our school systems' budget. Yes, the unemployment rate rises, you've taxed us to the breaking point, gas prices are rising, as are food prices and necessities of life - heat- water- medicine. So, do we have less students now then a year ago - I think not. TODAY MY DISABLED DAUGHTER'S Vice Principal called because my daughter saw her name cut from a list of students who would be eligible for work/study. Only students who were graduating could be on his program. Because my daughter has the right to attend school until she is 21, she has been canceled, the why - the budget and other "normal" students who need this requirement. I didn't mention that this school gets additional funding, which should include each child who attends the school, to have the funding available.

NOT.

Just because parents lose jobs due to job cuts, does not mean, NC kids are disappearing. Nor are kids falling out of other school systems. The population is growing - NOT deteriorating. So - why are school systems on the edge that is being cut?

Where did the kids go and where are the teachers and why don't you take a pay cut --- instead of throwing away our future - our children.

Not to mention ignorant legislature morons and the epidemic unemployment - if you ignore the rising gas prices - how can people who lost jobs, get anywhere to find a job?

Oh, never mind - I already heard your answer - cut school jobs.

Who cares? After all - it's not your child is it? And of course you are a paid public servant.

Please - stop the madness.

Sorry for this rant - but it was coming.

This morning I received the following email:

Thank you for emailing Senator Brunstetter with your thoughts about this year’s budget.

This year, the General Assembly faces an estimated budget shortfall of about $3.7 billion, meaning that the challenge before the Legislature is to write a budget that is about 18% lower than past budgets. Senator Brunstetter recognizes and appreciates your concerns about budget cuts to education, and he also recognizes that education as a whole accounts for about 60% of the current budget. Unfortunately, for this reason, it does not seem likely that spending can be reduced without impacting education. I will be sure to bring your thoughts to his attention as the budget process begins, because no final decisions have been made yet.

Thank you again for your note.

Best,

Sarah Hardin

Research Assistant

Office of Senator Peter S. Brunstetter

2020 Legislative Building

16 W. Jones St.

Raleigh, NC 27601

919.733.7850

Five Yorkie Puppies Playing Eight Weeks Old

2011-01-25T13:06:00.000-05:00

Five Times Three Equals Fifteen Pounds of Puppy Love

2011-01-25T10:46:00.000-05:00

Yesterday, Bud the Plumber and I slyly shut Zack and Zoie in their room then packed Mackie, Mizzie, Lizzie, Chewie, and Aggie in two carriers and took them to the Vet for their second de-worming. The Vet was prepared for us and a parade of attendants came to get the puppies in the pouches.

The puppies caused quite a stir, everyone had to look. "Who's Who?" they asked.

Because Bud the Plumber and I had only four hands between us when we packed the puppies, I had to randomly get a furry moving target, so I peeked in the blue bag first.

"Chewie and Aggie. I think you'll be able to tell who's who - Chewie is a boy, Aggie is a girl. That means Mackie, Mizzie and Lizzie are in the black bag. Mackie is a boy, and Mizzie has a little white on her chest and is the biggest girl, which means the last pup is Lizzie."

Off they went and left me to pace the waiting room floor. Less then fifteen minutes later the parade returned.

"What are you feeding the puppies?" asked the Vet.

"IAMS puppy canned food and dry mixed four times a day. Plus all the dry food they can play in."(I thought I saw dollar signs fluctuating while simultaneously a half of a dozen people, picked up their cell phones and distinctly said, "Buy IAMS."

In the mean time the Vet asked, "Where do you purchase IAMS?

"Pet Smart."

The Vet turned to me with eyes (that once again strangely resembled $'signs).--- "You should cut down to three mixed bowls of food a day," then I was handed papers which included the processes for this day's visit at our Vet.

Back home the puppies were once again settled in their puppy palace, Zack and Zoie let out of their room, and all was well once again, sort of, after the barking, kissing, and potty pad frenzy.

Puppies, Potty Pads, Pet Smart, Play Pen, and Waiting for Personally Paws

2011-01-21T16:05:00.001-05:00

Not to mention the poop, I am in deep "P's" figuratively and literally. With five puppies in training, the wet spots on the potty pads grew faster then the speeding bullets who made them. Eating four times a day, leaves another matter behind (also figuratively and literally). The puppies have begun teething and it seems the potty pads are an ideal pull toy. We change the potty pads at about the rate of two per hour. I was hoping that the washable potty pads I ordered from Personally Paws two weeks ago would arrive today. It turns out my online Yorkie buddies said you should have ordered from Piddle Pads.com.

Bud the Plumber was putting his coat on just as I was heading to refill my coffee mug. " I need to make a Pet Smart run. How many should I get? Fifty?"

"Nope, that's how many we went through yesterday." As if he didn't know - he takes at least two or three bags outside to the big garbage can a day. "They need more chew toys," I added. "Oh, and more IAMS."

"I just bought a case."

"That was Saturday."

The puppies continue to get bold and daring. Today marks the end of weaning as the puppies are eight weeks old and Zoie is now just content to sit and watch from her custom made perch above the puppy palace. The two littlest, Chewie and Aggie are climbers and daredevils - they both climb up and on to post then hang on the ledge. It may be that Bud the Plumber will need to raise the bar again on the puppy palace's border. One would think that 19" would hold a much larger puppy in - not so with Yorkies, they fly over the smaller board as if they were birds.

We also need a bigger play area because the puppies have definitely out grown the laundry basket which is where I put them when everyone leaves when I ask for help cleaning out their digs.
Bud the Plumber returned with the truck. An hour later the Pet Smart haul was finally unloaded. I took the keys from his hand. "Where are you going?" he asked.

"To Toys R Us. We need a play pen - one that easily folds, is made of mesh, is washable, can be wheeled anywhere, and is big enough for five puppies."

Cleaning the Puppy Palace and Why Pet Smart and IAMS Love Us

2011-01-16T16:49:00.002-05:00

Those of you who have not yet invested in either Lowes Hardware or Pet Smart are definitely missing out on cashing in on Bud the Plumber. At least until he finishes making a king size bed or the washable puppy pads I ordered online, come in.

First, I was lied to from an expert on raising puppies and who wrote a book. He said, a puppy at the age of seven weeks only needs to eat four times a day and will eliminate ten times a day. This is not true - neither part. Today I have gone through one box of tissue, one roll of paper towels, one roll of toilet paper, twenty potty pads, four cans of puppy food, and a bottle of hand sanitizer. The puppies on the other hand have gone through four bowls of dry food (okay so most of the food is scattered throughout the puppy palace), three giant plates of soft canned food mixed with other recommended goodies, several bowls of water, and two dozen puppy wipes. It is only late afternoon.

I turn to Bud the Plumber who is watching the last moments of the Bears romping Seattle, "We're almost out of puppy potty pads."

"I'll go get my car keys."

My husband, Bud the Plumber, frequents Pet Smart as much as Lowes. We have on at least one occasion met at Pet Smart, unknowingly.

"What are you doing here?" I ask just as he slinks down the aisle of puppy toys.

"Oh, nothing. Just checking out the sales and besides I had to go to Lowes" (which is right around the corner from Pet Smart).

"You could have checked the newspaper. What's that in your cart?

Oh, nothing."

Yeah right - cases of IAMS canned puppy food and giant bags of kibble. Not to mention the assorted toys, rawhide chew bones, and stacks of puppy potty pads.

Not to be out done, "What are you doing here?" says Bud the Plumber and looks around and down the aisle.

"Nothing," and quickly take off my coat. "It's hot in here don't you think?" Thankfully, I left my cart around the
corner.

Just as I was about to say -"I'll see you at home, two Pet Smart employees come around the corner.

"Oh - Hi Mr and Mrs Bud the Plumber. Mrs Bud the Plumber, you left your cart - would you like me to take it to the check-out counter for you?" (His eyes strangely look like dollar signs).

"Thank You.," with a sigh. "The puppies will just love their new toys.

Bud the Plumber begins to unload his cart as the young man turns to the woman behind me and says to her - "He'll take you at the next register, we're going to be a while here."

Tales from a North Carolina Yankee In Shakespeare's Land

2011-01-15T11:34:00.001-05:00

The first semester my older brother Ken came home from college, he would make me memorize Shakespeare. The second semester, he threw in Chaucer, but this time, I had to recite the words in old English.

What’s in it for me,” I innocently asked.

“You get to read my books, you don’t have to iron my shirts, clean my room, and I’ll buy the beer.”

Ken was 18 and legal to participate in buying massive quantities of alcohol. But only if he drove to New York or Maryland. Not a problem because either border was less then two hours away.

Hmm, I was reluctant to respond. This concerned me. Although Ken did not drink and drive and was often the designated driver, I had been in a car before when Ken drove and was extremely un-nerved. Ken had a lead foot and liked to exceed the speed of sound. I always sat in back seat next to my mother or other passengers. It was amazing how many people that you could fit in the backseat of a Volkswagen Beetle.

“Promise you’ll follow the speed limit. Who speaks old English?”

“No one.”

I mulled over the possibilities.

- I would become popular overnight.

- I could become Prom Queen.

- There was possibility that Ken could actually teach me something – (Nah).

I am both foolishly brave and stupidly clever. This happens to be J. R. R. Tolkien’s definition for his last name and because this story includes him, my real maiden name (which I will not reveal in order to protect the innocent) means besides being foolishly brave and stupidly clever, is – she stretches the truth – a lot.

Phew. . . now that we’ve gotten this out of the way --- on to my adventures in England.

Not too many women my age, decide to become a scholar, go back to school, and rethink their whole life after living almost half of a century. There are parts of my stories about Oxford that are quite true. I also have a vivid imagination. “Aye there’s the rub” as Shakespeare would say.

I reserve the right to embellish. This lends interest to the true story. Therefore it is up to you – the reader --- to decide what is true (or not).

A truth is that I easily get lost although I sometimes do a good job of finding my way home – sooner or later (mostly later). St Peter's College in Oxford is where I first met Bill the Duck. Bill was an English Duck, which is similar to Canadian Geese (some are of English heritage). Ducks and I seem to be attracted to each other, most likely a form of animal/human magnetism.

Bill claimed he was an Inkling (note the similarity to duckling), often sat in with C. S. Lewis and J. R. R. Tolkien at the “Bird” no less, which, is short for – ‘The Eagle and Child,’ a.k.a as the ‘Bird and Child.’ Whether or not Bill’s story is true may be questionable but I had been to the Pub often during my stay at Oxford and enjoyed a Brakespear Bitter (pronounced the same as Shakespeare only with a B sound) along with their roast duck specialty.

Then there is the tale of the pub’s beginnings, handed down over the centuries. A sign hung over the doorway shows an eagle though it’s beak and feet are oddly duck like. A mythical bird in flight swooped down over a watering hole and wooshed up into its talon-webbed feet, a baby born out of wedlock. The babe was a male-child and would one day become a once and future king. Now it seems to me I heard a similar story --- about King Arthur.

The event happened long before Bill’s time, even longer before Shakespeare’s time if one were to believe that Bill the Duck was William re-incarnate. Of course Art was the once and future King – I know – he told me himself.

Back to the “Bird.’ Soon after my fiasco of being lost in Shakespeare, I returned to Oxford. The following night I was walking along the River Thames by Christ’s Church, which happens to be a popular place for ghosts of writers past, not to mention present or future writers such as myself. Dusk had settled in and it was time to weave my way back to St Peter’s. I closed the book that I was reading, “In Search of Lost Time” by Marcel Proust. Ironically this book was also known as “Remembrance of Things Past,” a phrase taken from Shakespeare’s Sonnet 30. I felt a sudden chill and goose bumps up and down my arms.

I heard a commotion coming from the bend where the River Thames meets the River Cherwell. A duck glided up to me, took a bite of bread from my hand, then nodded his head. A regal bow, reminded me of long ago kings, and if the duck could stand tall, I am certain he would have kissed the hand I extended. This duck’s shading, is the same color as --- wait it can’t be – Yes – It is.

“Would you care to drop in at the ‘Bird’ for a pint?” Bill charmingly quacked. “C.S. and J. R. R. are anxious to meet you.

“But,” I said, “aren’t they both dead?”

“So I thought too, once.” Bill replied.

“Wait a moment --- didn’t Froto say those lines in the Fellowship of the King?”

Bill flailed his wings. His quack this time sounded more like a hurrumph. “I told Tolkein he could quote me. They were more interested in you. I mentioned to them that you would be a great addition to our weekly discussions. They balked at first saying that adding a woman would turn us into a hen party. Then I explained who you were. They were impressed when I said you were THE North Carolina Yankee in King Arthur’s court. By the way” his voice went real high and pitchy, “they wondered if you would be wearing thongs?”

Bill had heard about me being lost in Wales. I ignored his last remark on the thongs. While playing one day with a sling shot, I had a sudden inspiration and took my idea to my former employer whose name happened to be deeply imbedded into underwear. The idea did not come to fruition until our rivals saw the validity in a new style.

I was hooked though, on Bill’s invitation. Meeting two of my favorite authors would be like being lost in nirvana. I happen to be a Lord of the Rings fan as well as the Chronicles of Narnia, and to me, being in England was like living in a never ending dream of fantasy and make-believe. I was also quite hungry and thirsty. I did not hesitate. “Tis a consummation devoutly to be wish'd.” I would confront the dead part later. On the other hand, Bill could possibly be taking me on a wild goose chase.

“Ahh, yes – you quoteth from my play, Hamlet.” Bill offered me one of his wings and we took off.

Bill is Shakespeare, nah – he couldn’t be, could he?

We walked (Bill of course waddled) down cobbled streets, though streets might be carrying it a tad to far. More alleyways and barely wide enough for Bill and I to walk and waddle side-by-side. Ancient lighting cast an eerie greenish glow that reminded me of the color of peas (I was glad that I was walking by Bill’s side). A thick fog settled to the ground and I began to feel like I was in a scene reminiscent of the Exorcist.

We passed by many ancient Universities, even St Peter’s though it wasn’t quite as old as some schools. Oxford at night can be weird particularly for someone like me who has an over-active imagination. Both dark and white shadows danced up and down the walls in front of us.

Just as I was about to mention this to Bill - - - Oh – oh – there was no sound of motor cars and the street lamps suddenly began to fade.

“Have no fear Bev. I will protect you.”

I looked backwards over my shoulder and in the last blink of lamp light, saw the trail of green peas. Bill was protecting me in a way --- no one was walking behind us. Bill’s leavings had once again saved the day. Hmm, I thought, I might be able to find my way back to St. Peter’s after all. But that’s another story, along with how I became an Inkling. On the other hand, the roast duck that night was exceedingly delicious and went quite well with a few pints of Shakespeare - - oops I mean Brakespear Bitters.

Yorkie Puppies' Palace Changes Again and Why Lowes Loves Bud the Plumber

2011-01-13T14:50:00.000-05:00

Zoie stood on her perch by the ledge of the puppy palace and looked at me with wide eyes.I was sitting in the chair next to where the puppies were sitting and playing. Something wasn't quite right with the picture. The puppies were on the potty pads rolling around gleefully while through the archway, their clean play and dining area was without a blue and tan furry Yorkie.

I turned to Bud the plumber, "Something isn't right."

"What do you mean - something isn't right."

"The puppies are sitting on the potty pads playing. They should be on the other side of the archway playing."

Zoie barked and jumped in the palace just as Bud the plumber said, "I'll get my drill."

So we loaded puppies into the basket (after calling for reinforcements) and reversed the setting. The wall came down and was moved to the new play area while the opening gave free reign for the pups to jump out of bed and hit the pad so to speak.

Zoie jumped back up onto her perch while the puppies ran in out of their rooms. Two stood on one side of the small wall and facing a mirror pair of pups and barked at each other.

Bud the plumber stood up to leave.

"Where are you going?"

"To Lowes. I need more wood."

Yorkie Puppies Playing at 6 Weeks

2011-01-13T12:42:00.000-05:00

The Ever Evolving Yorkie Puppy Palace and Why Lowes Loves Us

2011-01-11T16:22:00.000-05:00

Last night I had another brilliant idea about the puppy digs - what if they really did have more rooms? The plan was to give the puppies a separate potty area and a separate play and dining area. I sketched my design, argued with my husband, who finally gave in. So first thing this morning even though schools were closed due to snow, Bud the plumber braved the wintery cold and went to Lowes for more wood.

A few hours after hubs returned, I called for reinforcements and we piled the group into a laundry basket. After securing the long section with an arched doorway wide enough to let two puppies through at a time, I said, "It won't work."

"Why?" said Bud the Plumber.

"Because it's too wobbly by the bed and the pups are getting heavy. They may push it and get pinched."

As usual hubs wanted to make it more complicated. "No, No, No, It won't work," I told him, and then I had another brilliant idea. The smaller board he had just removed would fit by the puppy bed perfectly and give the room support. Reluctantly, he agreed.

Mommy Zoie eyed what we were doing, was anxious at first, but then looked at me as if to say, "Hmmm, not bad."

One by one the puppies were placed into their newly renovated digs, and one by one, each puppy left his/her mark on the newly laid potty pads. It was dinner time and the sweet aroma of a freshly prepared platter of gruel enticed them into their play area and dining room. It was a mass attack and the group dove into the dish.

One minute later I removed the giant plate and mat, replaced smaller dry food and water bowl with plenty of room for the group to play with toys and each other.

Zoie had other ideas, jumped over the wall. The enticing scent of mommy's milk led puppies to leave the play and food area, quickly leave another trail of wet spots, then attack mommy in mass.

One minute later, Zoie abruptly left and the group settled down for a short winter's nap.

Bud the plumber said, "I think I'll go down and clean up my mess," (which is a first - weeks later I'm still cleaning up after his projects).

I stood and eyed the new facilty. Hmmmmm . . . . "Bud . . . wait. What if there was an archway to allow the puppies to enter the play and dining room from their bed? This way we can really potty train them"

He thought for a minute, "Ill be back."

In no time he fashioned an archway from left over board with the idea of taking the wall by the bed down and opening it up. "It has potential," I told him, "but i needs more work.

"Okay, I'll be back."

Hmmmmm I thought as I mulled over the idea. "Wait." I screeched. "What if you just get another board and make the section just like you did only make two archways so the puppies can have another entrance and exit?

Lowes just loves us!
.

Strange Things Happening in the Yorkie Puppy Digs . . .Is there a Santa Yorkie?

2011-01-10T22:15:00.000-05:00

Since we began to feed the puppies a gruel mixture based on our Vet's recommendation and weaning the pups from their mom, Zoie; there are strange things happening in the puppy digs, and in my bed. First their tiny puppy toys mysteriously found their way to my bedroom and on to my pillow.

Then there were remnants of Zoie and Zack's food bowls in the puppies bed. There were often times during the night when one of my hands held small pieces of what looked like puppy food. Not to mention the regurgitation, which I saw tonight with my own eyes. Zoie leaped into the puppy pen and without a sound, eased out of her mouth, undigested food. Not your normal dog vomit, but exactly the same consistency as the food we prepared for the puppies during the course of the past week. This has happened several times and Zoie was preparing to pick some up and place it in a puppies mouth.

Yuck.

But no, mother nature was only doing her job.

I kissed Zoie (irregardless of vomit breath, she is no longer cleaning bottoms of puppies for their elimination needs), then I thanked her, and told her she does not need to do this function anymore because the puppies were eating and eliminating fine. Very fine . . . no make that extremely fine (well, very formed and so cute). So Zoie left the pen with great agility I might add, even though the puppies were attached to her; they were randomly dropped off.

The new problem is that it seems that the puppies have inherited quite a few of their parent’s genes. The first noticeable trait is the tendency to stick out the tongue and cock ones head. The next is agility, and I am afraid, being a jumper. My bed is a four poster Victorian, and the height is well, just like Scrooge’s who needed a step ladder or stairs to climb into his bed.

We have an ottoman at the foot of the bed so that Zoie and Zack can climb up and down at their will to use potty or drink water and eat. Why should I be surprised when miniature genetic reproductions of the parents, began to exhibit like characteristics.

Such as a tongue hanging out and their head cocked. Or, lying on their back and exposing all for the world to see – this is very prominent in the male puppies – Mackie and Chewie for instance prefer to eat from mom, upside down. The girls have dignity – (sometimes), and prefer to just attack directly at the target, moving or otherwise.

Less then two weeks ago, we had to raise the walls of the puppy digs because of curious and literally, head over heals puppies. A 14 inch “wall” should do it for a while, I was informed. NOT - It's one thing when one puppy is a climber, which, is why the bar, so to speak had to be raised, but today, there were two out of the pen. As I was counting, I spied Chewie, who at first sat and stared at me, then he cocked his head, stuck his tongue out, and proceeded to nimbly hoist his body on to a ledge, then gather strength and heave. I tried to catch him in the act but missed.

I know that he grinned a me.

I looked down on the floor to see dark fuzzy forms scurry then hide beneath table and chair legs.

Three puppies were loose.

There was nothing else I could do but lay spread eagle on the floor and open myself to being molested. . . . with puppy love. . . . It worked and I called their names and they landed right on my face. Many minutes later, I placed them back into their digs, called my designer of the pen along with me husband (who is actually a plumber) and said, HELP.

“We need to redesign the puppy palace and raise the walls, NOW.

Less then an hour later, my husband returned and raised the bar once again - to 19 inches high.

Hmm . . . I think we may have a problem when I saw the puppies mother, Zoie, who is a jumper - fly over the newly constructed wall and inside the digs. She gave a high five leg - let the puppies connect - and then was gone in a flash.

Is Zoie a Santa Claus Yorkie?

And if not, then why did I find puppy toys in my bed, not to mention little puppy poo, chewed up tissue, and what looked, smelled, and tasted like dog food kernels? Wait a minute – puppy poo, puppy food kernels . . . I did what?

"Honey - We're not done yet," I screamed. "We need to change the rooms a little. I'm thinking of one long divider that stops at their bed, with an archway right in the middle of the two rooms so that the puppies can have a separate dining and play room that is separate and cordoned off from their potty area. They also need a separate play area"

"Why?"

"What's the first thing that you do when you get out of bed?" - (followed by the 2nd and 3rd, which is potty, make coffee (drink) and eat.

Hmmm . . . my husband is a plumber . . . I wonder if he can design a puppy toilet?

Why Aging and Insurance Companies Suck

2011-01-07T14:15:00.000-05:00

We don't want to think about aging or death, but sometimes it becomes necessary to do so.

Yesterday, I learned a lot about aging and all because I became concerned and then involved with the state of my father's health.

My brother text'ed me on live chat while I was on Facebook. "Dad isn't doing to well," he wrote. "Mary called and said dad couldn't get out of bed this morning."

My dad is in his 80's, but he was active up until a few years ago, and since Christmas, his aches and pains building. As a family member who lives in a long distant state, I let time pass by because my family is always in my heart and my daily thoughts, I think they are always with me. In my mind's eye, my dad is still robust and strong.

When texting, you have to get to the nitty gritty fast. I learned some detail that sent me into action and spent the day via Internet and phone contacting agencies and people in my dad and stepmother's locality. The situation with my dad was draining my stepmom and my immediate family.

They needed respite, and they needed direction. Mary still works full time at the age of 74 because of insurance coverage for my father. Neither chose Medicare and this shocked me. My youngest brother lives close by dad, and his family is the rock for Dad and Mary but they didn't know what could be done either. There were other things I learned that didn't sit right with me, so I got all my older brothers involved because we needed to move fast, each of us from our long distance residences.

I set everyone on a course of action and last night, they were able to print out many of the forms they needed and gather the supporting documents. My father is a WWII veteran and is entitled to VA benefits, this will help tremendously. I contacted another agency who simply needs to have a doctor's prescription and then can set-up in-home care for my dad. They are also on their way to Social Security with all the forms they need even though this could be completed on-line but time is of the essence.

I know that life is vulnerable, and as you grow older, there are many things to look forward to besides death and taxes. Then there is medical insurance and all the other insurances we have, which supposedly give us piece of mind.

It came down to this for me, the Insurance Company told my step-mother, they would only cover the cost of in-home care if death was imminent for my dad.

My Pennsylvania Dutch grandmother was right, "Too soon we grow old and too late we grow smart."

Social Networking and Other Migraines

2011-01-04T16:48:00.000-05:00

Me Blowing Up My Computer

I almost blew up my computer today, but I couldn't survive without the Internet. Then again my connection and home network suck although my cell phone downloads content from the Internet faster then a speeding bullet. I can give you stock quotes, twitter updates, the latest news second by nano second, and even make mysterious phone calls when not in use. Text messaging is out of the question because I can't type worth a darn and my laptop I use upstairs refuses to let me insert the letter "t". I am electronics ignorant.

Over the past week I have been making major changes to my Antiques in Bethania web site and have been using a new design program from Serif called WebPlusX4 as well as a new web host. So far both have uncomplicated the entire process for me and finally my web site is being indexed while providing me with some very detailed statistics.

At the same time Facebook decided to revamp its pages so did Twitter and God knows who else. Not to mention search engines and everyone screaming - add my button to your website and see your page ranking explode. Excuse me - I am a non-techie - techie but the sight of flashing drafts saved is driving me insane as are all the emails to the search engine submission pages. It's no wonder my page views suddenly jumped! Just maybe though, my 2011 horoscope will come true and I will have my 15 minutes of fame. Instead of "Where in the Hell is Bethania, anyway?

The Day After New Years and Why Mom is Always Right!

2011-01-02T16:16:00.001-05:00

The weaning process began a week ago based on our Vet's recommendation and Zoie's. I had just finished reading my trusty puppy guide book which offered, "Don't be alarmed if your Dam regurgitates her food and offers it to her puppies."

Hmm - yuck I thought but then again I saw some pretty incredible happenings beginning with the puppies birth. Mommy Zoie took care of everything textbook style, even up until a week ago - the puppies elimination needs. In the true meaning of dog breath, well, Zoie did not get any kisses until after her teeth were brushed and face cleaned.

I walked out to the puppy den which is where my husband hangs out now, to tell him, about the regurgitation but he was busy. "What are you doing?" I asked.

"Zoie puked in the puppy pen."

"Regurgitated you mean."

"I don't know about that - it was puke - this is the second time. Should we be concerned?"

"No, we just need to feed the puppies more often." Then explained about in animal life, the mother always knows best. Wait --- it's true in human life too --- I have only had two rules for my children and my husband -
Rule #1: Mom is always Right
Rule #2: When in doubt, please refer to Rule #1.

Bev's Antiquing, Schlepping, Schlogging, & Writing Blog Schlog: Tchotchkaholics Unite

2010-12-31T22:03:00.000-05:00

Bev's Antiquing, Schlepping, Schlogging, & Writing Blog Schlog: Tchotchkaholics Unite: " Do you love antiques and collectibles? Do you shop yard sales, tag sales and scour the newspaper for anything that may be ol..."

Tchotchkaholics Unite

2010-12-31T22:00:00.001-05:00

Do you love antiques and collectibles? Do you shop yard sales, tag sales and scour the newspaper for anything that may be older then you are? Do you fill drawers, closets, places and spaces under your bed and/or in corners where only dust bunnies may lurk? Does your family or those who love you dearly tell you when you proudly display your purchase, "Oh . . . that's a cute piece of crap." Then, you my friend are a Tchotchke lover and most likely a Tchtchkaholic. Fear not . . . Come out of the closet (with) me and join one of the few places in the world where people like you and I can be free at last! You are not weird just because you have an obsession to buying what you love and few people in your inner circle appreciate. A Tchotchkaholic is someone who needs to join a group, such as; http://iantiqueonline.ning.com/ . . . You'll be a much better person for it!

Happy New Year to All My Friends and Family

2010-12-31T13:33:00.000-05:00

I for one, am glad to see the fading of this year and welcome 2011 in, although I will most likely be asleep when the clock strikes midnight. I have done my reflecting, made promises to myself, and hope that the fates will be kinder and more forgiving to all of us. We will encounter life and death, sorrow and joy, good and bad, right and wrong. We will make mistakes and we will have success, but what I wish most for you is peace and love throughout this coming new year.
Happy 2011 to All!

Yorkie Puppies in Training

2010-12-29T21:21:00.001-05:00

I am utterly and hopelessly in love . What to do . . . oh what to do? My babies get cuter and cuter every day and each one is developing a personality. It sometimes seems as if they are trying to out do each other in capturing my attention. The minute I scrunch down and try to evaporate myself into their pen, the puppies converge on me and we intertwine. I am inundated with wet tongues and puppy breath.

They are trying to bark - funny little sounds that sound like a whoopee cushion on its last legs. And poor mommy Zoie - even though they are now on real puppy food, mom is still a desirable resource. She is so tiny and the puppies so big, Zoie can only stand up or sit to accommodated the crowd. This is hysterical to watch because the boy puppies lie on their back and roll back and forth, while the girl puppies are more sedate.

What is so amazing to watch is how their individual personalities are taking shape as well as their physical attributes. Their hair is growing fuzzier, sprouting in spurs, and they exude love. Its no wonder that I am hooked. Bring on the King-sized bed!

On Collecting Tchotchkes (which also rhymes with Yorkies)

2010-12-27T16:03:00.001-05:00

Being possessed by a Yorkie is one of Life's impeccable joys!

- by author unknown but most likely a Tchotchkaholic

Mrs Santa Zoie

Puppy Tchotchke

The other day while bending over the Yorkie puppy digs soon after feeding them their first real food, I saw several perfectly formed pieces of tiny poop. I turned to my husband and said, "Oh, Bud, look how cute their little poopie is!"

His comment was, "You're obsessed. You get excited about anything."

It is totally true - I am possessed and obsessed, partly because I am a confessed Tchotchkaholic. Since a Tchotchkaholic is addicted to collecting Tchotchkes (yes, it is also true that some crude people think of Tchotchkes as a "piece of crap"), and since the Yorkie does not take up much space in one's home, owners have a tendency to "stock up" on them (Yorkies no poop, okay so maybe . . .?)

Reindeer Daddy Zack

Tchotchke Yorkie Love Puppies

Even the Kennel Club book on Yorkshire Terriers offers, "It is very common for Yorkie enthusiasts to adopt two, three or even a dozen more Yorkies. The love and companionship that a single Yorkie can bring to an owner is multiplied and compounded daily with a whole collection of blue and tan babies."

Bring on the Tchotchke Yorkie Love Puppies!

The Day After Christmas and other Ghost Stories

2010-12-27T12:00:00.004-05:00

The process of restoring an old building is endless; it's like - oh - what can go wrong next? We were eating our traditional Christmas Eve fondues when suddenly the electricity went off. The music stopped, the heater died and the refrigerator stopped humming. Thankfully we had candles and Sterno and could continue with dinner. We've been without electricity before on holidays so I have to take such emergencies in stride (more or less), because of prior experiences. We have had stoves stop working, sewer backing up, ice stoppage on roof tops, and plaster ceilings caving in.

Last year, my husband fell of the roof and so we spent the day after Christmas in the emergency room, which turned out to be a blessing. As we were we leaving, his Doctor stopped us and said – “No, you are not alright.” It turned out the C-scan showed a mass in his sinuses and he had to have an operation that saved his life.

I blame the troubles on our ghosts, but I am also thankful for them because they have revealed information that we ‘needed to know and heed.’ Like at 2:30 AM this morning. I woke up suddenly with the urge to check on the puppies. I turned on the light in the room and looked down into their digs and counted - only four puppy heads. I looked under blankets and everywhere but no fifth puppy. Then I heard a cry - she was under the able and had evidently climbed out of the pen. We had left a side lower so that Zoie can climb in and out with ease. It's time to raise the sides again.

One cannot live in an old home without the energy of the past still viable. I tend to call the home my family and I live in, a building because my antique shop is below, and our family residence above. Where I once had apartments, I now have one huge space with flowing rooms, though there is a separate entrance for a potential second apartment should I want to “let” the space. But the entire space we call our home keeps evolving the longer we live here. My Christmas present this year was my new kitchen – all custom because of the space and designed by myself and my husband with a great deal of frustration on both our parts.

The process all started before Thanksgiving (the building of the kitchen, not the planning) and ended on Christmas Eve. The building of the kitchen and you could say the Yorkie Puppies (rather birthing), all five of which arrived on Black Friday, the day after Thanksgiving are the reason why I am falling in love with our home, and in finding comfort in all its unique spaces.

My brother Bill came up often during the upstairs construction phase and helped my husband. I will be forever grateful for Bill’s help and time. I don’t think Bud could have done the work himself. All in all, the upstairs is 2400 sq ft, as is the downstairs. The last of the renovation left on the building is a huge back room which I hope to turn into a writers’ workshop and studio, but we must wait to rebuild our finances. I'm hoping before the end of the summer.

There are, however, many other reasons why I love this place I call home. My family is spread out everywhere – My daughter Dana and her beautiful family; my step-daughter Rae and her beautiful Family; my older brother Ken and his family, my little brother Hank and his awesome family, and all my friends spread from one end of the world to the other. However, I can connect to you through Facebook and computers and the technology that the Internet provides.

But yesterday, I received a phone call from my uncle Roy (who I have not seen or spoken to in years), who I have always adored, and I also spoke to my father, my stepmother, and much of my family.

This all leads me to a headline in my local newspaper – the Winston-Salem Journal; "The World is Changing; The First Baby Boomers Turn 65 this Year," and right below a smaller headline and story, "The Ten Signs of Alzheimers."

There is no cure for Alzheimers and we can' t turn the clock back on aging. Maybe this is why computers came into being. We who can, who have computers, can use our computer’s memory in a way which we may store our past and re-live life, over and over again - both the good and the bad and keep our brains functioning and alive (baring any power outage that is).

Merry Christmas from the Puppies . . . What a day!

2010-12-24T14:52:00.003-05:00

At 10:00 this morning (Christmas Eve) which also happens to be Bevie II's 20th Birthday, Kristen tells me the puppies have worms. Zoie has been having really awful poo and farting the past few days. I thought maybe it was her diet and held back on some of the extra goodies, but when Kristen made the announcement, I called the Vet. I'm glad that I did.

"Best to bring them all in," he said. So we collected the babies and Zoie in mass and left.

Yep - worms, including mom and all were treated. The Vet also said the babies were cute and healthy and to bring everybody back in two weeks for another treatment. He also said it is time to start weaning - mix Baby puppy food with rice cereal and water to form a mushy consistency. Put on a plate and let puppies at it because they like to play with their food. He cautioned not to leave the food on the floor for longer then thirty minutes. It took the five guys and girls all of ten!

They loved it!

What fun to watch!

Yorkie Puppies

2010-12-22T20:11:00.003-05:00

Biker Zack , , , the Yorkshire Terrior

In two more days the puppies will be four weeks old. and this coincides with Christmas Eve so this week is momentous. Within any given day, the changes in their ability and agility changes. For instance tonight, we had mega kissing and mega nipping. The boys and girls wanted human touch and reveled in this process. There was no growling from Daddy Zack's gate or from Mom Zoies's; just sniffing and licking. So we'll see?.

Puppies New Digs

2010-12-21T15:00:00.001-05:00

My bathroom is mine again. No more parade of humans wanting to see the puppies as they have a new home which includes sleeping area, potty area, play area, and a feeding area (though this changes at the whim of mommy Zoie). It took my husband the better part of the day to construct it and then de-construct it because the sides were not high enough to keep [the puppies] inside.

Both Zoie and Zack are jumpers, so the babies will most likely be jumpers. They climb over each other, on top of each other and mom, and on and off their bed and into their food bowls, which they are curious about. The bowls are empty now, but in a few days I will be starting them on a special puppy food, though Zoie will still be nursing.

Now that Zoie and puppies are out of my bedroom too, we are starting to alternate who gets to sleep in the big bed at night and Zack is happy again. Tonight we are going to ease Zack and Zoie back together (Zoie hasn't wanted him to see the puppies yet), but the Vet said it would be alright once the puppies could stand, bark and have teeth. Their bark is more like a purr and the cutest sound, and their teeth are coming in like little razors.

Yorkie Puppies Potty Trained at Three Weeks

2010-12-18T14:31:00.000-05:00

Yes, it is true and really amazing to watch. I should know, I have a ring-sized seat.

Let me explain because location is everything.

Zoie decided that she wanted to have her liter in my huge bathroom. During the weeks prior to the birth of said puppies, she had tried to dig a virtual hole in my bedroom floor. It was obvious that she nixed out the rest of the house and for a while, I thought that she was going to have the puppies in my bed, rather on my pillow, or my husband’s.

So, I made her a corner near the TV which she loves to watch; then set her bed, papers, towels, potty pads, and all the accoutrements needed for a spoiled Yorkie about to give birth. By the last two weeks of Zoie’s pregnancy, she could no longer climb on to my bed so she took to the new location and her new cozy bed fine; but, she still hunted and dug.

The night before the births, I had a brain idea moment, and moved a cupboard from the bathroom and my husband made a box of sorts to fit – next to the empty space by the toilet – hence – why I get a ring sized seat to watch the puppies. The problem I have now is that EVERYONE wants to use my bathroom, even strangers who come to my shop, like today. A man claimed his car had broken down and AAA was on its way but it would be at least an hour --- could he please use my Yorkie bathroom? The fact that he said Yorkie bathroom was a dead giveaway - only those who read my blog, know where the puppies are.

“No.” I told him.

So back to Yorkie Puppies Potty Trained at Three Weeks – amazing but true story. The puppies have been slithering for more then a week, then sitting up, and waddling on all four legs, which is much like watching a human baby take its first steps. Babies though wear diapers, puppies don’t.

Not to gross anyone out, but puppy moms take care of their broods elimination needs – all of them; which, it becomes advisable not to kiss your puppie’s mother’s mouth. As the pups have gotten older – they are now seeking out the area away from their cuddly sleeping space and relieving themselves when necessary.

The key word is seek – the puppies actually seek out the area – said puppy training potty pad – and use it for what it was invented for! Is this not amazing or what? (or possibly do I and others set (sit) a good example? Sadly though, the puppies are growing and with so many humans and pups in my bathroom, it's beginning to be cramped.

So tomorrow Mommy and gang will be moving to their new digs in a much larger area next to the kitchen. They will have a separate play area, eating area, and sleeping area along with actual chairs where the humans can sit, or even lay on the floor and play with the puppies in comfort.

Bethania, NC, History, and the Making of Legends

2010-12-17T16:56:00.004-05:00

Legends grow on antiques the way moss grows on trees. As a family heirloom is passed from one generation to the next, its history takes on added flourishes. A spinning wheel made in 1820 becomes the spinning wheel brought over on the Mayflower. A bed of 1840 becomes a bed George Washington slept in. Here in Bethania, we have a house proudly displayed as the “The Cornwallis House” because the General made the home into his headquarters during a brief stay in Bethania as he was preparing to head south and escape from General Greene’s American troops.

The English did indeed encamp throughout Bethania; both inside homes, backyards as we know then today. In fact everywhere in Bethania, including outlying fields – the town's residents fed the enemies; watered them, and admonished more then 3000 soldiers to behave themselves --- or else. (the stills would run dry and the bad boy would spend time in the tavern cellar on the corner of today’s Loesch/Lash and Main Street, a dank and dark place which often substituted for a jail.

One of my favorite Bethania stories is that of the young Captain, George Hauser who happened to be in the tavern one night at the same time Tory troops were. Hauser's father, whose name also happened to be George was the tavern’s proprietor. The Hauser family settled in North Carolina along the Yadkin River in the 1740s. They were friends, even inter-married with Squire Boone and the Morgan Bryant families. By the early 1750s, North Carolina was still a predominately wild and untamed frontier. Religious beliefs as well as British control of the land ignited flames of uprising. The Moravians, although the oldest protestant religion in the world, were a small religious sect even by today's standards, yet this religious sect held great power - in establishing religious order and in monetary support from English peers who were of high birth right and welded power. The Hauser family held different beliefs even though their joining the Moravians meant they were to become conscientious objectors – meaning they did not bear arms. Of course the Hauser family did, as did the other original non-Moravian families who became part of the experimental Bethania settlement did.

Young George Hauser was a peer and friend of Daniel Boone. Then there was a man by the name of Matthew Brookes, a man with connections and wealth, and who played a bold roll in establishing American freedom.

Why Daniel Boone became famous and George Hauser never did, is beyond me, except for the often misspelled last name of Hauser, and the added influence of religious beliefs which is too lengthy to document in this post.

On one early 1780’s evening, in the middle of America's struggle to become loyal to a republic of their own, or to remain loyal to the English King; Bethania was a pivotal place to both opposing forces. In fact, Bethania's beginnings and story is often humorous; a comedy of errors, and a reflection on “Whose Side Were We On, Anyway?”

Imagine the enemy entering a town from the main road while the opposing forces leave the town from the same road in the opposite direction. A bugle sounds and the troops from both sides regroup so that the opposing force can re-enter.

Now imagine that lifelong friends who are on opposing forces live in the same town - are neighbors, having grown up with all the familiarities life allows in a close-knit society. The men re-group at the tavern, a sacred and neutral place – supposedly.

Young George though was instructed to toast “to the health of the king” or in German, “Zur Hölle mit dem König.”

Young George did, combining his German language with English and in actuality, said – “To Hell with the King.” In German, the words should have been, Für die Gesundheit des Königs” Both cheers and shouts of anger erupted from the smoke-filled tavern and swords were drawn. Men in red coats and white powdered wigs jumped from tables, over-turned chairs, and converged in mass upon young George.

But young George had many friends, brothers, uncles, and nephews who were family (which is why Bethania was also called Hausertown and these men rose from their seats in unison.

George Hauser Sr’s (young George’s father) holding a long rifle in his arms, directly aimed between the British field Captain’s eyes and said, “Ihnen, Sir, sind ein toter Mann, Sterben, bitte.” Meaning, “You are a dead man.”

George Hauser Senior was not an American and even technically, nor was his son although young George was born here.

If one thinks about the implications of both men and women who were not born in America, yet through hard work and discovery, have played pivotal rules in society and moving History forward . . . amen.

How to Tell a Boy Yorkie from a Girl Yorkie

2010-12-16T16:13:00.002-05:00

Puppy in Bowl

Having mastered the art of the weight scale and weighing small wiggly puppies I eased into a system for weighing them, which is to do the biggest first, then work my way down to the smallest. I had the puppies names down pat - Mizzy, a girl, is the biggest and Aggie, a girl, the littlest, which meant Lizzy is right in the middle. Then there is Macky who is bigger then Chewie, who is the smallest boy.

This past week has been one of daily developments. All puppies have their eyes opened, are sitting up, and are almost up on all four legs. But a few nights ago, after realizing that I couldn't put the puppies back into the crate because of re-weighing the same pup over again, the puppies began to move around their pen like speeding bullets. I needed reinforcements. "Kristen, Help!" I screamed. "Here hold Lizzy, while I weigh Macky."

"Mom, that's a boy puppy."

Yes, dear, I know Macky is a boy."

"No, mom, you said you were handing me Lizzy. This is Macky. Lizzy is in the bowl."

"What do you mean?" I took the puppy back. umm - perhaps it wasn't a belly button.

My daughter was kind enough to point out my mistake and then suggested that I either needed new eye glasses or a lesson in sex education.

Hmmm I thought, so this is why the puppies weight changed from one day to the next.

Bev's Antiquing, Schlepping, Schlogging, & Writing Blog Schlog: In Defense of Being a Tchotchkaholic or why I am n...

2010-12-09T20:28:00.000-05:00

Bev's Antiquing, Schlepping, Schlogging, & Writing Blog Schlog: In Defense of Being a Tchotchkaholic or why I am n...: "The 12 Step Program for Tchotchkaholics 1. We admit that we are powerless over Tchotchkes —that our lives have become unmanageable due to..."

In Defense of Being a Tchotchkaholic or why I am not a Piece of Crap

2010-12-09T16:53:00.001-05:00

The 12 Step Program for Tchotchkaholics

1. We admit that we are powerless over Tchotchkes —that our lives have become unmanageable due to our treasured Tchotchkes image being called objects that are really . . . Crap. Pure, unadulterated crap.

2. We believe that there is a power greater than ourselves which allows Tchotchkes to restore us to sanity.

3. We have therefore made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to this power as it is not us who are insane, but the rest of the world.

4. We have made a searching and fearless inventory of our Tchotchkes.

5. We have admitted to ourselves, and to other human beings that one can never have enough Tchotchkes.

6. We are entirely ready to stand up and be accounted for and to show the world our Tchotchkes.

7. We humbly ask our friends and family to understand this is not a shortcoming but is saving the destiny of something that may be destined for the trash pile.

8. We have made a list of all persons who would be harmed by this, and are willing to make amends to them all by buying more Tchotchkes.

9. We will make direct amends to such people wherever possible, except when to do so would injure them or others because there is no such thing as "anything you put away in a closet so no one will ever know you bought such a thing is a Tchotchke , or, "There can be, in the meaning of the word, an element of owner’s shame, or, a Tchotchke in Yiddish, "may refer to a person who is a misfit, a nobody, a slut, an ineffectual person."

10. We will continue to take personal inventory of our Tchotchkes and when we feel we are missing something that will bring joy to our collection, we will promptly admit it, and immediately head for the nearest antique mall.

11. We will seek mediation by our conscious contact with others who understand our need to amass Tchotchkes by keeping in mind that we, or one of our heirs could wake up one day and be a multimillionaire because of finding our hoard of Tchotchkes.

12. Having had a spiritual awakening as the result of these steps, we will carry this message to Tchotchkaholics everywhere in the world and to practice these principles in all our affairs.

Bev's Antiquing, Schlepping, Schlogging, & Writing Blog Schlog: Life, Breast Cancer, Dying, Elizabeth Edwards, and...

2010-12-07T20:40:00.000-05:00

Bev's Antiquing, Schlepping, Schlogging, & Writing Blog Schlog: Life, Breast Cancer, Dying, Elizabeth Edwards, and...: "I am sadden by a death of a woman that I don't know except for her public image and tha I knew Elizabeth Edwards was fighting cancer and oth..."

Life, Breast Cancer, Dying, Elizabeth Edwards, and I Want a Cure

2010-12-07T20:39:00.001-05:00

I am sadden by a death of a woman that I don't know except for her public image and tha I knew Elizabeth Edwards was fighting cancer and other damage of sorts created by her husband, John Edwards' scandal. When someone of such high profile dies of a disease targeted at women, we, women, or at least I, wonder why we can fly to the moon, cross the continent in brief hours, clean up oil spills that costs the world population billions of dollars, raise taxes, spend this money to bail out banks and automobile dealers and then spend even billions more on a fruitless war against known enemies we have isolated; but we can't fight the war on breast cancer even when the genes that mutates into cancer has already been isolated.

Rarely does the mutant gene attack males, but I venture to say if the gene did, there would be a cure.

My mother died of breast cancer, and my grand mother of cervical cancer.

I want a cure, not for me, but for my daughters and granddaughters and all my yet to be born female progeny. I want a cure for my sisters in life, for the women I know and have not yet met. I want a cure for the memory of those who died because there was not a cure.

No one wins in a war, but everyone wins if we can find a cure.

Bev's Antiquing, Schlepping, Schlogging, & Writing Blog Schlog: Mastering the Postal Weigh Scale and Weighing Newb...

2010-12-06T19:32:00.000-05:00

Bev's Antiquing, Schlepping, Schlogging, & Writing Blog Schlog: Mastering the Postal Weigh Scale and Weighing Newb...: "Dah . . . I should know this, allow my eyes to tell me all was well and seeing five active behinds with tales wagging like a motor running, ..."

Mastering the Postal Weigh Scale and Weighing Newborn Puppies

2010-12-06T19:31:00.000-05:00

Dah . . . I should know this, allow my eyes to tell me all was well and seeing five active behinds with tales wagging like a motor running, inform me that my newborn puppies were, well, content. It was the scale that was at the root of my concerns. First the scale alternates between ounces/pounds and the instructions make it seem as if you could just set the object on the scale and weigh. You can't. One has to prep the scale, set the perimeters (conversion) and do a least a few tests that will tell the intellect - (ok, so I am close). So, to make a long story short, Dec 6, 2010 at 6:00 PM, the correct weights of Zack and Zoie's puppies are as follows:
Macky (first out and boy) 11.2 oz
Mizzy (second out girl) 13.1 ---- she is a chunky dunk
Chewie aka Chewbaca (third out boy) 9.5
Lizzy (fourth out girl) 9.0
Aggie (fifth and run) 7.7

I think I need to stop being an excessively hyper attentive puppy grand MOM.

Who Pooped on my Bed?

2010-12-02T19:07:00.003-05:00

Yorkies are supposed to be easily trained and ideal for living in high rise apartments. So, okay, my upstairs home is only one flight up, and 2400 sq ft but it is still an apartment. And, I do operate a business below where occasionally, I do bring one of my adult Yorkies to work with me. So, why are we in turmoil here? We have a gated and fenced area outside our back door, we have healthy adults, some who are pudgy and could use exercise, and we also have potty pads. But, no one uses them. Okay, humans excluded (they do use a regular toilet (where one can say bye-bye if needed). So - today - new mommy Zoie is doing what she is suppose to be doing, licking and cleaning each puppy individually, and stimulating each puppy to well - poo and pee. ipso facto - life. Period end of discussion. So - why did today, I find numerous little tiny remnants of - poo --- all over my bed. Did Zoie bring her pups on the bed and did the pups poop? The bed is a very high Victorian and has a nice-sized dog jumping ottoman at the foot. I know Zoie would never deliberately have an accident; however, there were strangely teenier, tiny minute little droppings on my bed spread which is in the Que to be washed, after Zoie, the puppy hotel lining, blankets, and towels. Did my Zoie begin spoiling the pups or should I be concerned about another extremely small animal who pooped on my bed?

Bev's Antiquing, Schlepping, Schlogging, & Writing Blog Schlog: Who Pooped on my Bed?

2010-12-02T19:07:00.001-05:00

Bev's Antiquing, Schlepping, Schlogging, & Writing Blog Schlog: Who Pooped on my Bed?: "Yorkies are supposed to be easily trained and ideal for living in high rise apartments. So, okay, my upstairs home is only one flight up, an..."

Zoie and New Yorkie Puppies Nursing

2010-12-02T14:39:00.000-05:00

Not a Fun Night for the First of December

2010-12-01T14:52:00.001-05:00

Zoie and Puppies Day 6

Last night was a very restless night and almost 4 a.m. when I went to sleep. The reason wasn't because of Zoie and puppies, but teen daughter who decided to sneak out and take my car for a drive on a permit no less. The last time she did that was right before my return from graduation for my MFA at Goddard College in Vermont. (At least I had a story published at All Things Girl, Everything Girl - can read it here:(An Interview with the Mother of Teenaged Girls or How My New Babemobile Came to be Dented ).

Zack

I was not a happy camper then, and am not one now, but I'll get over it even though I finally broke down and replaced the rear tail light cover but not the dents (they are sort of a badge of surviving parenting).

Then there was my husband who volunteered to sleep on the couch with Zach, the daddy of our new puppies because he has been crying a lot and between him and Zoie barking at each other - he couldn't sleep. The Vet recommended that we keep Zack away from Zoie and the pups for several weeks.

Ziggy in Window

The Cats stay away any way, are content in their quarters (which is most of the house) so at least I don't need to worry about disrupting their daily routine.

Dezzie in Bowl

Zack, though, is another story and I have been bringing him downstairs to my shop during the day just for peace - (I really didn't know that dogs could howl like that - it sounds like crying)! Any advice on taking care of a new Yorkie daddy who is extremely anxious about seeing his wife?

New Yorkie Pups Who are Chunky Dunks, Our First Vet Visit and Why We Did Not Have their Tails Docked

2010-11-30T08:34:00.001-05:00

Mackie

Today was an extremely stressful day, for me the human owner of five newly born Yorkies and their parents that is. I called he Vet first thing to make a specific appointment to bring Mommy Zoie and five Pups in to get checked, certified, and to make sure all were healthy, happy, and that if we needed to do more to ensure their health and growth as well as taking care of them correctly. I also scheduled to have "dew claws" removed and talk with the Vet about tail Docking, which, I was totally against. In fact my family - aka - husband and daughter were viciously against me until I showed them my research and web sites which are primed to encourage you to make the right decision for the right decision.

Mizzie

So here goes - tail docking is all about show dogs and not necessary for pets. In long haired dogs - it is suppose to offer more cleanliness in the poop area - which - I am sorry but doesn't make sense, because Yorkie show dogs still have a lot of hair and the tail has nothing to do with runny poop.

Chewie aka Chewbaca

Lizzy

The Dew Clew on the other hand, should be removed. and so Puppies will have this removed. Zoie too needs special attention to one claw from paw because while digging intensely at her burrow/whelp area, lost a claw.

We live about three minutes away from our Vet,. My husband drove while I held puppies in doggie bus, forgot Zoie's leash, and had to let her out of bus because I was afraid she would sit on pups. All the while my husband drove between 20 and 30 mph - well below the speed limit --- he said, "I didn't want to rock the boat with our precious cargo."

So after watching a troop of strangers take my babies away, we went back home and I spent a restless hour and a half while Zoie and her brood were at the Vet. In fact, I lifted my cel phone to my ear, shook it, and expected it to automatically call me. It did and it was Dr Gates who called (really) right on time to say they are ready to go home and we were off.

So this is what we found out -

Aggie

We have a remarkable mommy Yorkie who is taking care of her Pups perfectly. In fact what we thought were two runts, are now considered chunky dunks. - We will need to devise a color coded way to identify them by their names (we probably shouldn't have named them because our bed is only queen size and my husband is actually saying it's time for us to get a new bed - is it possible to sleep with seven Yorkies in a King Size Bed?)

Back to what the Vet said . . . I need to control my urge to feed Zoie people food, particularly Vanilla ice cream, make sure she eats a good puppy food - we give her Iams, and go home and lavish love on all are Yorkies, which of course is a piece of cake!

Zach and Zoie's Puppies Day 2

2010-11-28T13:29:00.000-05:00

I had to rearrange the whelping arrangements because Zoie's bed was just not conducive to moving around puppies - they kept sliding into the ledge around the bed. So I tried the box with the blankets and papers and Zoie hated it. She's used to sleeping in a comfortable human bed with lots of room - the box was definitely too crowded for Zoie and five nursing babies and of course my bed is not the place for puppies, a least until they are much older . Off to Pet Smart, I found the perfect solution, at least until puppies get bigger and more active and then it's find a baby plastic swimming pool. The bed I found is therapeutic and with the heating pad beneath, we have some very contented Yorkies. Having new puppies is like having a new baby, really. I needn't worry about Zoie because she is perfectly relaxed, tending the babies and doing everything that comes naturally.

The babies are plumping up and doing their puppy thing too. But just to be safe I got a postal scale and will track their weight. I probably should weigh Zoie to - she is getting extra food and is becoming addicted to Vanilla ice cream (it's full of calcium and wet) and canned soft puppy food, as well as being hand-fed.

Zoie and New Puppies

2010-11-27T10:30:00.002-05:00

Zoie's Babies

Boy and Girl

Zoie and Zach, our Yorkies, are the proud new mommy and daddy of two boys and three girls. Zoie went to the Vet yesterday morning and then went into labor a little after four. We had an Xray taken so knew that we should prepare for five puppies with one pointed in the wrong direction. He happened to be the first and was difficult and a little scary, but Zoie was a trooper. Thankfully we had Leya here to help with the delivery - her grandma is a breeder and so Leya was a God send. The rest of the pups came less then thirty minutes a part and all were cleaned and taken care of by mommy Zoie. This was an amazing experience to watch. I feel so protective and must contain myself from disturbing them.

Zoie and Zach

WWII Memorabilia and Ephemera

2010-11-13T15:55:00.001-05:00

The Story of the 73rd: The Unofficial History of the 73rd Bomb Wing

This is a fascinating book and was published by the Newsphoto Pub. Co., San Angelo, TX. Hard Cover and is a First Edition. 4to - over 9¾" - 12" tall in 1946. The book is the original unit history, not a Battery Press or other reprint, some of which sell over $100.00. Stationed on Saipan, this unit flew B-29 bombing raids primarily on the Japanese mainland. THe book contains approx. 200 pages, maps, extensive photos (including 61 close-ups of nose art), drawings, endpaper maps, list of decorations and awards, organizational charts, sample propaganda leaflets dropped.

World War II Navy Posters all of which are 11" by 14" and are original to the era and were produced by the Navy.

Attack
The Story of the Army

This is an interesting booklet as this was produced for the Army Relief Fund and in co-operation was the Army was provided by the Indiana Bell Telephone Company to be sold at a traveling War Show program in 1942. The actual booklet cost .25 cents. You will note that this copy does not have the price on it because this was a pre-production sample copy given to Indiana Bell employees. Enclosed in the book is a letter from Harry S. Hanna who was the Vice President of the Company. This booklet is obviously a very rare copy.

I Am The American Spirit

2010-11-11T15:13:00.000-05:00

When God formed the earth, the waters,

the clouds in the sky,

When God formed man and woman,

When God formed the beast and food for all to feed upon,

God formed a silent wind

To lie in wait throughout many ages

And gather strength, and life, and love

In the hopes that one day

Mankind would live without hate,

And as the tides flow and ebb in the great seas,

Learn to live in a world that was free

I am the American Spirit

I was born in the hearts and minds of men, women, and children,

long before I was named.

At first, they called me the red man and I was a native,

Born in this land,

Then ships came, bringing many people,

From far off shores,

They wore strange clothing

And many spoke in foreign tongues,

They worked and toiled,

They dug deep into my soil,

In the richness of the dirt, they buried deep,

Their roots, their loved ones, until

They themselves became one with me.

I am the American Spirit

I became an immigrant nation

Settled by people

From far off shores,

Who sought a better life,

Freedom of political oppression,

Freedom to practice their religion

Freedom to seek adventure and opportunity

And in the richness of the soil,

I buried deep, roots, that meshed and intertwined

And took hold,

And began to sprout,

Buds and blooms of faith, and hope,

And as I grow, my spirit become one with the earth

The sky, the moon, and the sun

I am the American Spirit,

I hold these truths to be self evident

That I was conceived in Liberty,

And dedicated to the proposition, that

All men were created equal,

My creator did endow me with certain unalienable rights,

And that among these are

Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness

Freedom was my right, only others

Wished to suppress it and hold my allegiance

To far off lands that I left to establish

My domestic tranquility,

I became the

United States Of America

I am the American Spirit,

I grew bold and strong from the hearts and

Minds of real men and women,

In the year of seventeen and seventy six

I was born from thirteen states

Into a new nation under God

And established a constitution,

To form a more perfect union,

To establish justice

To insure domestic tranquility

To provide for the common defense

To promote the general welfare

To secure the blessings of liberty

To ourselves and our posterity,

I became We the people

I am the American Spirit

I now was visible for all to see

From cloth of red, and white, and blue

Stars and stripes were formed,

Red for valor and bravery

White for purity and innocence

Blue for vigilance, perseverance, and justice

I was given stars to signify the Heavens above

And the divine role that man has aspired

Since time immemorial.

I was given stripes for the rays emanating from the sun.

And though through the years I have had many changes,

I have emerged, stronger, as I became

The American Flag and I stand

For Liberty.

I am the American Spirit

I was born in the hearts and minds of men and women,

And through the years from then until today,

I have known heartache and loss,

I have battled brother against brother,

In a house divided,

I have turned my back on darkened skin,

I have held my women at bay,

I have struggled internally against my own

Injustices,

My own oppressions,

My own weaknesses,

And because of this, blood has been shed for me,

Yet when I stand there, sometimes tattered and torn,

I am still the spirit of Freedom, that is American born.

I am the American Spirit

For in God we do trust,

My land is a free land,

For those who hunger and thirst for air to breathe free,

I lend them a hand, in the spirit

That has become me,

So that maybe one day, others may be,

Conceived in liberty,

And dedicated to the proposition that,

All men, all women, no matter what the color of their skin,

The language that they speak,

The religion that they worship,

Are equal, in liberty and in peace for all.

And, I am the American Spirit,

I am the American Flag,

I fly beneath spacious skies

And over amber waves of grain,

I fly from mountain tops, from hills and valleys and plains,

From the New York harbor,

To the Gulf Stream waters,

From the Atlantic to the Pacific,

My colors remain constant, red white and blue,

RED, for the blood of many heroes shed,

WHITE, for freedom’s light still shining bright; and

BLUE, for the courage to stand tall and true!

I am the American Spirit,

And I hold these facts to be self evident,

As American as hot dogs, ice cream, and home made apple pie,

Freedom is why we celebrate

The Fourth of July

That

America

is Beautiful,

And as Old Glory

Forever waves in the azure sky,

Let freedom ring, let freedom ring,

For the home of the brave

And the Land of the Free,

May God Grant us all Peace.

The Colors of War

2010-11-11T13:19:00.002-05:00

The Colors of War

They fight in his land not mine

because our skies are beautiful and spacious

where enemies can’t hide behind shafts of amber grain

or breathe the same air we breathe

beneath the same golden sun where

young men were never taught how to die

or turn purple beneath a pale blue sky

or make a young woman cry, or ask

what if the lights went dim

how would I know his land from mine?

Thirty five years later, I can close my eyes and recall it all.

At the corner of time I stood beside a bed wearing a simple white dress.

The young man lay in front of me, soft baby face touched by dark shadows,

eyes smiling gently as a summer breeze, “Please” he said, “go ahead.”

I peeled the sheet back from his chest, my hand whispering a caress,

expecting to touch flesh, instead met by a cold wet field,

red stains seeping from gauze and tape.

Pits and raw jagged scars replaced silken sinew,

legs now stumps, only a torso.

“I have a Purple Heart you know.”

Blue eyes blankly stared beyond my amber gaze and I cried,

blood stains wept across my nurse’s dress.

All because he stepped on a land mine,

in a land that was neither his nor mine.

Dad and Mom 1944

Army Navy Game Day
San, Juan, Puerto Rico
1973

Lincoln Oak Freeport, Illinois 1912 and Lost History

2010-11-06T16:37:00.000-04:00

On August 27 of 1858 the town of Freeport, Illinois was the site for the second of the famous Lincoln and Douglas debates. The drawbacks of wind and rain did not prevent a crowd of more than 15,000 hurry to the grove north of the Brewster Hotel which stood on the corner of then Stephenson and Mechanic Streets.

The scene must have been mayhem - the entire country was in turmoil over the escalating issues on slavery in the South. "After dinner the crowd hurried to a grove near the hotel, where the speakers' stand and the seats for listeners has been arranged. Here also were confusion and disorder. They have a wretched way in Illinois of leaving the platform unguarded and exposed to the forcible entry of the mob, who seize upon it an hour or so before the notabilities arrive, and turn a deaf ear to all urgent appeals to evacuation."

"Lincoln Oak"

Over the next half century, Freeport grew with many fine homes sprouting along avenues and other streets carved from the famed grove and debate site. The townspeople and residents of Freeport were careful to preserve a tree which came to be known as the "Lincoln Oak" A Stately Victorian home was built by Mr. R. Johnson who owned Johnson Brothers Company and the manufacturer of the "Tiger" adjustable ratchet cylinder wrench and the Johnson Automatic Coupler.

In the front of the home and nearby "Lincoln Oak" is a monument, a giant boulder imported from Wisconsin and reads:

Within this block was held the second joint debate in the senatorial contest between Abraham Lincoln and Stephen A. Douglas, August 27, 1858. "I am not for the dissolution of the union under any circumstances." - Douglas. "This government cannot endure permanently half slave and half free." - Lincoln. Presented by the Freeport Woman's Club, 1903. Dedicated by President Theodore Roosevelt, June 8, 1903."

Original Site of the Freeport
Lincoln and Douglas Debate

The tree though, became sickly, "had shed all its leaves and was seemingly dead," and it was feared would be lost. A Mr. P. L. Phelps of Rockford, Illinois was brought in to see if the tree could be saved. After his treatment of the tree, the tree was "in full foliage and looks beautiful again."

The Brewster Hotel was torn down long ago and a park now exists in its place along with two life-size statues of Lincoln and Douglas. Somewhere in the 20th century, the house and "Lincoln Oak" were replaced by a parking lot though the commemorative boulder remained. Mr. Johnson and Mr. Phelps were unsung heroes of a long ago time when history and memory worked together in preserving our American past. I found this letter and photographs years ago when I lived in the Chicago area. They were in a box destined for the dump, but this is what I do, rescue the past and preserve history.

United Confederate Veteran Ribbon Forsyth County, NC 1898

2010-11-05T13:18:00.001-04:00


UCV Ribbon 1898 Value $350.00

I have stacks and boxes of Ephemera, papers, memorabilia and because I am a hoarder of said items, I often forget what I have. Case in point is this U. C. V, ribbon which stands for the United Confederate Veterans and which, I unearthed a few days ago. I wish I had it with me last week I had the pleasure of speaking to the Forsyth County chapter of the United Daughters of the Confederacy.

My research for my book, Bethania: The Village by the Black Walnut Bottom, covered 250 years and I had to write this history within the confines of word count. One of the most difficult and challenging chapters I wrote was concerning the Civil War years and slavery. This was primarily due to the original documents, diaries, letters and papers I have and used which painted a very powerful picture of this dark era in our American history. I have a great deal of material that I did not use and which I hope to incorporate into another book. But back to this ribbon. I knew that it was local because along with it was another ribbon from a local estate and then I began to google. Wikipedia stated that prior to 1899, the organization did not exist on a national level though there were some local and regional levels. This ribbon bears the date May 10th, 1898. Significantly May 10th commemorates Andrew Jackson's death as well as the day on which North Carolina recognized as the Confederate Memorial Day. The year 1898 signifies the year prior to the national organizing of the UCV which was active until the 1940s. THE REPUBLICAN - a local Winston (now Winston-Salem) paper had this to say of the first Confederate Memorial Day Celebration:


Winston NC May 10, 1898

April 28, 1898: 10th of May Exercises - Norfleet Camp of Confederate Veterans met at the Armory one night the past week. There was a creditable turnout. A committee was appointed to revise the roll members and put the camp in first class condition. A committee was appointed to select an orator for the 10th of May exercises. Also to assist the Daughters of the Confederacy in providing dinner for the veterans. Those of the latter both in city and county, in good standing who have not joined the Camp, are earnestly requested so to do at once. Application for membership should be handed to either T.J. Brown, commander, S.H. Smith, adjutant, or Z.T. Bynum, Secretary. It is hoped there will be a good attendance on the 10th of May.

The Great American Tchotchke Debate

2010-10-31T12:44:00.003-04:00

A Bunch of Tchotchkes
*Also known as a Bunch of Crap
*Except for the Banana Mouse, All of American Origin

Jack Ass Tchotchke
*Possibly Made in America

I recently came out of the closet and confessed on I Antique Online that I was a Tchotchkaholic. I had no idea that there were other like-minded people like me. It was a relief to finally stand up and be accounted for because I am a Tchotchkologist and have been one all my life. I even left my gainful employment in the corporate world (okay, so I was downsized three times) to ply my love of Tchotchkes as a full time business, although my brick and mortar shop is also my home and a front for my writing. But then I began surfing the Internet and found that entire world of late is capitalizing on the word Tchotchke.

Bobble Head Tchotchke
*Can be Purchased in Washington, D.C.

First the American government has been referred to as "The Tchotchke Economy" perhaps because people everywhere are getting in on the Tchotchke band wagon and making money off of President Obama and other political figure souvenirs. Contrary to Urban legend - a Tchotchke is not a piece of worthless crap, nor is it simply a knick knack, trinket, toy, gimmick, or promotional item, which serves little or no purpose such as bobble-heads or the giveaways at trade shows. I for one am tired of the word being bandied about and it is time to set the world straight on the true meaning of a Tchotchke.

Bull Tchotchke
*Possibly Made in America

Some resources claim the word Tchotchkes only invaded our culture since the 1960s. In reality, Tchotchkes have been around since the beginning of time. For instance archeologists make a living out of studying artifacts left behind by the first people on earth and still are not quite certain as to the true meaning as to why small pieces of bone, shells, made into beads and other small items were carefully laid in patterns inside caves or burial tombs. Fact is these were the very first Tchotchkes, are universal and found everywhere. Michael Quinion from the website World Wide Words offers that a Tchotchke, "It’s one of those delightful Yiddishisms that do so much to enliven American prose." Wikipedia further claims otherwise that this is a derivative of tzatzke and that "the term could be construed as a more dismissive synonym for bimbo" meaning a slut.

Gator Eating Bull Tchotchke
*American Made late 1960s

I beg to differ with Mr. Quinion, wikipedia, and others who are self-proclaimed experts because my mother's family was not Yiddish but of Slavic and Russian decent. My Great aunt, Tante who came from Russia to live with my family when I was a child and who did not speak English, called me her 'Tchotchkeleh.' My mother said it meant that I was an adorable little girl and would grow up into an attractive, unconventional woman, which I did so this should eliminate any reference to a Tchotchke being a toy or excuse me, a piece of crap.

Why Tickets are Hot New Collectibles in Ephemera

2010-10-29T15:35:00.001-04:00

Rare ticket from the Steamship Independence
which burnt at sea in Spring of 1853.
Over 120 passengers lost their lives.

Once upon a time, long, long, long ago, one needed a piece of material which he or she paid cold hard cash (or paper money) for and then in turn handed the material over to a stern faced person who was guarding an entry of sorts, (which, by the way, in turn gave rise to the term bouncer). He or she was then allowed to proceed and enter. The problem arose if the event or happening that the person was attending, was disappointing, he or she felt cheated. Rarely did one get money back which may be why some tickets survived. Then again it may be why the rise in counterfeiters who expanded their industry because next to money, a "ticket" or "invitation" to enter was as "good as gold."

Love-Feast Invitation from
Salem Home
Moravian Church 1869

Although "ticket" printing was being done long before 1870, trade cards entered the scene and the 1876 Centennial Exposition in Philadelphia set off a new craze of collecting. People wanted souvenirs - something to bring home with them even though later, they may have tossed the item away or stuck it in a soon forgotten place. More tickets and stubs are surfacing from these long ago eras.

It wasn't until 1917 when Reuben Harry Helsel of New York invented a ticketing machine, a device he continued to improve upon until 1962. Today tickets are no longer necessary for many venues and ticketing can easily be completed online - a barcode easily identifies the purchaser though in time this too might become counterfeited. Unfortunately though, speeding tickets are done the ancient way except for filling in the blanks (umm - wonder what celebrities do with their indiscretion papers?)