I got the genealogy printed out today.  162 pages!!!!!!!  Lots of old photos, so dark, but I put them through my photo editing software and it lightened and sharpened them a good bit.

I have to get to the print shop to get the pedigrees printed and then put them in the appropriate places in the book, then back to the print shop to get the book bound and printed and I think.....I may be able to get it mailed end of this week.

It's been a great experience and I think my client will be surprised about how far back I was able to get on her Paternal grandmother's side.  My client already had a lot of info to give me, but I "climbed" a lot higher than what she had, and that, to me, is always a success.
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The necessity of garden fall cleanup is heavy on my mind.  Just when I think I will get an afternoon to get outside, it rains.  Other than the normal back pain, I feel better than I have in a couple of years, so I am hoping I can get it all done in just a couple of days.
We shall see.  My neighbor's haven't started cutting back their gardens yet, so I guess I'm not too out of the loop.
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My cats are strange things.  I never thought you could teach a cat anything.  Dogs?  Yes.  Cats?  Not so much.

When they come up to my chair and look like they want to jump up on my lap, if I say "No", they stay down.  Then I say, "Go take a nap" and they walk away to their cushions and sleep.

They sure know what, "Want supper?" means and run over to their food dishes before I even get to the fridge.

When I get ready to go to bed I say, "Time to go nite-nite."  They saunter off toward the bedroom.  While I am in the bathroom, they sit on the floor by my bed.

Buddy always jumps up and come up to the upper right side of the bed, because I lay on my right side and pet him while I fall asleep.  Maggie waits until I get settled, then snuggles up to the left side, down by my ankles.

Apparently they have had a conversation or something because the last month, Maggie now jumps up on the bed first.  She comes up quite close to my face.  She used to be a biter and didn't ever wanted to be petted.

I lay on my side and pet her and talk to her.  I've never heard her purr until last week!  Then I say, "Nite-nite", and she moves down to her usual spot, by my ankles.  Then and only then, will Buddy jump up and come up to his usual spot.  I pet him and talk to him, and then he puts his face in the open palm of my right hand, up by the pillow and lays quite close to my head.  Sometimes I have to scootch him over as he lays too close to my face.  He goes to sleep with his head in my right hand.

Usually when I wake up in the morning, Buddy is the only one still in bed.  If I open an eye or start to move, he nudges my cheek with his cold wet nose.  If I pull the bedspread up over my face, he lays down on my shoulder and grooms himself, jiggling away, until I get fed up and sit up and get out of bed.

They are the strangest animals I have ever had!!!
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I guess I’m out of touch with this world.

I thought the decision Senator Jeff Flake made was a good one…most of my Conservative friends don’t see it that way.  I thought he was being fair-minded in giving both sides time to regroup.  My Conservative friends think he caved.

My Liberal friends wonder how I could support Judge Kavanaugh, when I, as an abused woman should side with Dr. Ford.  I DO agree that she was abused, but my experience tells me, that if she was, she should remember a lot more details than she does.

Kavanaugh and his friends remind me of the rich Kennedy boys and their friends.  I can very well see that he and his friends would do something like this.  The girls that are “friends” with those kinds of boys/men, think it’s all fun and games.  They flirt and tease, until the boys get overly pushy, then the girls scream and run home. 

I have to stop listening to all of this.  No more watching congressional hearings.  No more reading posts from either side.  They have made me angry to the point I have not felt in many years.

It has brought back unpleasant memories, that I had put on a shelf high in the closet and haven’t thought of in years.  That, in turn, has caused nightmarish dreams and loss of sleep, which in turn, is affecting my daily life….to the point of not waking up in time to attend the funeral of a very dear teacher and friend.

So, you all carry on.  I will not participate.  I will watch as the Evil One, roams about seeking to kill and destroy and pray that God will one day bring us together in peace.  He is the only one who can.

When my Grand daughter was here, I sent the afghan I made for her hubs, home with her.  I guess he really liked it.  He had made a comment to her that, "We need more blankets around here."  Maybe being so tall tends to make him feel the cold?  Anyway...........

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You just never know when an ordinary day is going to turn into a crisis, do you?

I think I told you that my Buddy cat had been having problems with his lower front tooth.  Suddenly Tuesday night he refused to eat his wet food.  Wednesday he wouldn't eat, nor drink.  I could see his tooth was sticking forward and I figured that was the problem.

But...what could I do?  I had $130.00 in my checking account with an expected automatic payment of $142.33 coming out on this Tuesday.  I was worried on how I was going to find the needed $12.00, let alone think of paying a high Vet bill.

I fretted and stewed and tried to find a "free" animal clinic around here.  There are none.

I knew I had to get him to a Vet or he could get dehydrated from not drinking and then that would lead to more problems.

Around 11:00, Wednesday night, my Bonus Daughter Chris called from Idaho.  I was crying and she was comforting.

"You take him to the Vet and then you have them call me and I will give them my credit card number.  This is how I lost my Smokey.  I figured his bad tooth would just fall out.  Instead it got infected, he got a bad infection and died."

"Chrissy, I can't do that.  This is going to cost a fortune!"

"Jude...a fortune to you, is no big deal to me.  Now do it tomorrow morning."
====================
First thing Thursday morning, I called the place we had taken Fred's dog.  I know they are a wonderful place--plus they are open 24/7 for emergencies.  They told me to bring Buddy right in.

Now--trying to get this big cat into the carrier proved to be almost more than I could do.

First I took the carrier into the bathroom.  Buddy always follows me into the bathroom.  I sat on the stool and waited.  In he came.  I shut the bathroom door and for the next 25 minutes, tried to get a clawing, growling, large 18# cat into the carrier.

I'd get him in and before I could zip up the door of it, he had wiggled out.  Backed himself into the corner of the shower room and hissed and growled.

I tried to talk him down.  Explained that he had to get in that carrier.  Tried to entice him with a treat........................then, I was breathing hard, my heart pounding and it was full on, YOU WILL GET IN THERE!  I put a towel over his head so he couldn't see and stuffed him in the carrier.

We were feeling the remnants of hurricane Florence, so it was pounding rain.  So hard I could hardly see to drive with my wipers on full speed.  Then the interior of my windshield and back window, fogged up...Buddy was growling in the carrier, I was trying to roll windows down and up and..................

I got to the Vet's 45 minutes later, normally a 20 minute drive.  Buddy's mouth was bleeding AND the bad tooth was gone!!!!!  I must have knocked it out in our tussle.

As we waited in the little exam room, Buddy didn't like the stainless table, of course, so I picked him up to hold him.  He climbed up my left front, draped his front legs over my shoulder and set his claws into my upper arm back.  

The Tech came in and I pried Buddy loose to get him on the table again.  The other bad front tooth was still intact.  The Tech noticed I was bleeding from my upper arm, so he tended to my claw punctures while we waited for the Vet.

The Vet came in, we chatted a moment, then he swooped Buddy up, draped him over his arm and was out the door.  He came back in a few minutes, minutes that had given me time to pray and calm myself down.

Buddy seemed fine.  He was more than happy to crawl back into the carrier with no prodding on my part.

Not only had they removed the bad tooth, but had also trimmed his claws and given him a long lasting antibiotic shot.  They didn't charge for the tooth extraction or the claw trim.  

I really didn't want the extracted tooth, but the Vet presented it to me like it was some kind of treasure, so I felt I had to accept.  He told me Buddy would expect at least a quarter under his pillow that night.

================

The office call was $46.00 and the injection was $50.00.  I had figured it would be at least $150.00.

I gave them Chris' phone number, they chatted over the phone, I got the receipt, they carried the carrier to my car for me and we were on our way home.

I was wet and chilled from the rain we had to walk through, so I put the carrier on my bed, opened the little front part, and figured Buddy would come out on his own, while I toweled myself off and slipped into a dry shirt.

At first, he didn't want to move and when he finally did come out, he wouldn't even look at me.  

He stayed under the bed until evening and then, I put his wet food out and he wolfed it down and wanted more.

He is a happy cat once again--missing two front lower incisors, but can eat well.  Yesterday, he was even playing "zoomies" with Maggie.  Running up and down the length of the house.
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God bless Chris!  She's saved my life more times than I can count and this time, she saved Buddy's life too.  

Thursday, I had lunch with my  High School Gal Pals.  I ordered Nachos Supreme and they came out on a small pizza pan.  Needless to say, I brought half home with me for supper.  Warmed-up Nachos aren't too good--the chips get all soggy.

After lunch, I drove on up another 12 miles to visit my 2nd ex husband.  He had called me a couple of weeks ago to tell me that something he kept from me when we divorced, he wanted to now give to me.

The item had been a bone of contention at the time.  It was mine, but he said, if he hadn't gotten it for me, I never would have it and then I told him, if I hadn't seen it and asked him to get it for me, he never would have even known about it...and on and on.  He kept it from me just to be mean.  It's not like it's worth anything.  I had seen it the first time I visited him and asked, when he was done with it, could I have it.

So--30 years later, I got my "Rocky" back.  

So silly--we were on our Honeymoon in upper Michigan, walking along a high bank with Lake Michigan far below.  I spotted a rock.  Shaped somewhat like a skillet, with the "pan" eroded away by the swirling water.

He climbed down the bank and brought that heavy thing up to me and we put it in the trunk of our car.  When we got back home, I placed it under the down spout of our eaves trough, in a small garden I had planted.  When it rained, the water would come down into the basin and swirl around before running off the "handle" of the skillet into the garden.  The birds used it as a birth bath.  I loved that dang thing!

So Rocky is now in the trunk of my car, waiting for me to find some strong guy to help me get it out and place it under the down spout off my porch, in a woodland garden I have there.

Too funny, huh?  I wish he felt the need to give me back the $10K I loaned him, but he gets less Social Security than I do and has nothing.  He looks terrible!!  Near 6' tall and probably doesn't weight 145 pounds.  His stomach caves in and his rib bones stick out.  He cinches his pants in to extra holes he has made in his belt.  He looks very creased and old--which, I guess at 87 he should look old.  He's still very healthy, takes no prescriptions and put in a 50'x75' vegetable garden this year.  He dyes his hair, so it looks reddish, as a lot of hair dyes for men do.  He's had white hair since he was 50.  It is very sparse now and with the dye, he resembles a scare-crow.

He looks like he is on his last legs.  I don't know how long he's got, but...................................I got my rock back.
Seriously, I am not a very nice person!
====================
My oldest grand daughter Helene e-mailed me Thursday and asked if she and great grand girl Della could come and visit on Saturday.  Well, of course, being the socially active person I am, I had to check my schedule---------that's a lie, of course I was going to be home like I am every day.  They showed up at noon with lunch.

Della is going to be 2 years old October 24th.  For the last year, she has hated me.  Every time she saw me enter a room or come nearby, she'd start screaming and crying.  I wasn't quite sure how it was going to go with us both in the same small house.

I hugged Helene, but didn't say a word to Della.  I had Helene sit on the couch with Della, while we talked and I busied myself with getting plates out of the cupboard and putting out the lunch they had brought.

I put her lunch and her Mom's on the cedar chest I use as a coffee table in front of the couch and said, "We can have a party on this little table.  It's just your size, Della."  She doesn't like to sit in a chair at a big table, so this worked out great.  She either stood or knelt by the coffee table and ate her salad.  Helene and I chatted of course and laughed and had a good time.

Pretty soon, Della was dumping out her mother's purse and playing with the contents, then she put her mom's sunglasses on, upside down. 

Then she started playing with a puzzle, Helene was sitting on the floor beside her, so I scooched out of my chair and got on the floor and started asking her what sound the animals made--that were in her puzzle.

The next thing I know, she picked up her mom's camera and wanted a picture--so Helene took a selfie of all of us.

I managed to get back up in my chair and then Della came over, grabbed the index finger on my left hand and said, "Go find kitties?"  I basically took her on a tour of the house, she looked in each room and when we got to my bedroom, she got down on her tummy and looked under the bed.  Buddy must have been under there because she pointed, then stood up quickly, grabbed my finger and started pulling me to the living room.

Helene asked, "Did you find a kitty?"

Della nodded and said, "No, no!  No want kitty!"

Helene explained that their cat has scratched Della and so she doesn't like kitties anymore and is afraid of them.

What a hoot!  They stayed about 3 hours and Della came over and laid against my leg and smiled at me and when they left, she threw me a kiss.

She is pretty smart for not even being two.  Of course, her grandma Karen spends each Thursday with her, while Helene works, and knowing Karen, she reads to her and talks to her like an adult.  She does have a strong will--just like her grandma did.  When she says, "No", she means no and isn't afraid to show her emotions.

It was a wonderful afternoon and I was so happy AND exhausted when they left.
====================
As I was looking at these photos, I noticed that at 2 years old, Della and I wear our hair alike.  She just needs a big bow, Like I had.

We here in the Mitten State, worry about tornadoes.  I don't know why---they are infrequent and only do a small area of damage.  It is unlikely we will ever have a hurricane form over the Great Lakes...although I suppose it IS possible for Michigan someday to "cave in" and the Great Lakes merge over the top of us and create one huge Great Lake.  Not something I get anxious or worry about.

This darn hurricane Florence has me worried.  Will it affect me?  We might get some residual rain, like we did with Gordon, but it will be no big deal.  I don't think I know anyone who lives on the coast of the southern states--Trudy?  How close are you to the coast?  Ernestine?  My Virginia friends--I think you are inland enough to be safe from the "surge".

I am however, worried about my little cottage on the beach on the Outer Banks of North Carolina. Well, it's not exactly "mine", in that I don't hold the deed, but...................

I first visited the Outer Banks in 1986.  I stayed in a high rise hotel.  Had to walk the boardwalk, across the protected dunes to get to the beach.  It seemed like a long walk even back then.

I returned again in 1995, with my friend and traveling buddy, Ernie.  Again, stayed in a hotel and had to walk a ways to get to waters edge.

I determined then that one day I would return, rent a cottage right on the beach and stay for a week.

I scrolled through real estate websites in 2008 and found a neat little place, right at the edge of the dune and steps away from waters edge.  I booked it for the next May.

The night before Fred and I were to leave, car all packed, mail held, all that, he had a major heart attack.  While he was in surgery, I called the real estate agent and told her what had happened.  She graciously returned the deposit I had made.

Fred was doing well by summer's end and wanted to make that trip.  The poor man knew how much I wanted to go...almost needed to go.  I am fearfully afraid of big water.  Almost drowned twice in my younger life.  I don't want to go on or in big water, but had found out years past, how soothing the ocean is.  Hearing the waves, coming in and going back out--that constant rhythm seemed to take all my anxiety and stress away.

So in September of 2009, I called the agent and got that little cottage for May 2010.

I couldn't believe it when we arrived.  There it sat--at the edge of the dune.  Stairs at the far end of the porch, led down to the beach.
Dolphins View it was called and we saw many every day.

The view from my recliner inside.

At high tide, the ocean came in and went under the porch.  Rather unsettling to me, but Fred reassured me that the pilings, holding up the house, were buried deep and we would not float away.

Yes--we traveled way up to Corolla at the north end of the Outer Banks and down to the southern end and the light house at Cape Hatteras.

and up the road a few miles to Kitty Hawk....

but, for three days in a row, we just stayed in our little "home" and enjoyed the ocean.

My sweet Fred and Tootz.

========================
I have been so homesick for that cottage.  I know I will never get back there.  Never see or hear the ocean again.

It makes me worry that Florence is going to take my sweet little cottage off into the deep.

You gotta love this Michigan weather.  It is quite normal to have the furnace running in the morning and the A/C switched on in the afternoon.  It was in the 90's last Wednesday and the high 60's on Thursday.  This morning when I woke up, having forgotten to close my bedroom window last night, it was 65 in here.  I turned on the furnace while I took my shower.  Turned it off and won't turn it on the rest of the day, as it will be in the upper 60's.  I'm glad I have one of those thermostat's--temperature set at 73 degrees, and all I have to do is move the little slider to Heat or Cool.
====================
Dar is off on vacation with her friend Sheila to the Upper Peninsula--I hope they took warm clothes.  Before she left yesterday, Dar called me twice.  She has a C-Pap machine coming.  It will be delivered by Fed Ex.  When I see the truck, could I go over and get the package off her porch.

2nd call:  Could I go over on Tuesday--specifically Tuesday--and pick all her tomatoes.  The plants are dying, but they are still producing tomatoes and she doesn't want them to go to waste.  In my rebellious mind, I will go over on FRIDAY (she will be home Saturday) and pick the tomatoes, see if Pearl or Jackie want any, take what I need and throw the rest in the garbage.
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The genealogy I am having fun with, took me to a standstill.  I couldn't find the man's parents.  Finally, I found a research link that showed his name and his parents.  When I clicked on his parents, there was the next generation up and so on.  I got up 16 generations.  Then researched each one, saved each census or fact I could find, or printed them out, scanned them as a photo and saved them to my picture file.

That way, I can insert the photo/facts when I get to their specific page in the book.  It took me all week and...it was wonderful!!!
=====================
I had to run to Walmart to pick up a prescription and some milk and as I was walking through, there was a 42" flat screen TV on sale for $168.00!  That is less then we paid for the 32" one I have, 8 years ago.

I just stood there and stared and went over all the reasons I needed to buy it.  I have wanted a larger TV for the last couple of years.  My eyes are bad enough now, that even with my glasses on, I can't see the print on the TV--print--like the score of a ballgame at the upper right of the screen or the printing that runs along the bottom of the screen.  

Then, as I stood there, I pondered on whether I could afford to use half my grocery money to buy it.  I could have someone tote it out to my car, but I didn't think the box would fit in my car.  How would I get it out and into my house?  

I took a few steps down the aisle, then stopped and looked back.  That is such a good price!  I have been noticing and looking for the last coupe of years.  Usually they are $198.00.

Then, I just shook my head and headed over to the dairy department and got my milk and some gallons of water, and some bathroom tissue, and............................

Of course, all day yesterday, when I watched TV, it seemed I couldn't see anything.  

Oh well.
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My sister loves to watch Tennis.  My sister loves Venus Williams.  My sister is very upset with Venus Williams' actions on the court.  I don't watch Tennis.   Yesterday, I was engaged in watching Golf and Tiger Woods, who also used to act like a spoiled brat, until he had to take a couple of years off because of his injuries and back surgeries.

So to soothe my sister, I explained that I had read that Venus Williams has been suffering from post-partum depression, and to remember when our own Jennifer had that, how touchy she was.  Any little thing would set her off in an angry outburst.  And I reminded my sister, how angry everyone is nowadays, and how they feel it is their right to express that anger no matter where they are or what the consequences.   
========================
I live quite a peaceful and serene life.  I know I can't do one thing to change how our politicians act or react.  I can't do one thing to change how my neighbors act or react.  Dar, a lifelong very, extreme, ranting and raving Democrat, voted for and is now a rabid, ranting and raving Trump fan.  OY!  She comes over here with her rants.  I asked her one day, "Can you change any of it?"  She replied, "No."  So I asked her, "Why don't you just not listen to the news?"  

All anything like this, is as it is.  Will continue to be as it will be.  If I get involved, by watching the nonsense all day, I am going to become upset and angry.  I don't want that.  The only thing I can control, is what happens in my own home--and sometimes I can't control that.  I try real hard just to stay calm and keep myself peaceful.

Maybe I don't need a bigger TV.  Then, all that stuff on the News would just be, more "in my face?"  HAH!
===============

Dar came over this morning.  It's been about 3 months since she's been here.  I had posted on FB that I woke up with my right eye lid swollen and I couldn't see very well.  She came over because, she said, "I wanted to make sure you hadn't had a stroke."

Okay.

We chatted--rather she chatted, I sat and listened.  Then I asked why she hadn't gone to church and she told me she left that church.

She had been going for about 5 months and decided she wanted to join.  She took the membership classes.  For the next three Sunday's, the Pastor would call up to the altar new members, so the congregation could greet them.  He never called Dar up.

She finally asked him why and he sort of hemmed and hawed.  She said, "Is it because of my father, I can't be away from home much, so I can't take part in helping the church.  Work in the nursery.  Help with funeral dinners?"

The Pastor just smiled, so she said, "Okay.  I get it."  and walked out and never went back.
==========================
I felt so bad for her that I got tears in my eyes.  "That must have hurt." I said.

"It did." she said as she teared up.

I went on to explain or try and figure out why she had been denied membership.

In our church, if you want to become a member, yes you take membership classes.  These explain the doctrine of the church, it's beliefs and such.  No where are you told you have to join the choir, or work the nursery or anything like that.  It asks if you will support the church, but that could mean a lot of things.  I know they would appreciate it if we tithed, because every year, at their "conference", each church has to pay $60.00 for each member on their rolls.

I'm a Methodist, so...... well ya know, we let anyone become a member if they want. We think it shows they have made a commitment to God and the doctrines our church upholds.

Then she said, "The "board" wouldn't approve me, I guess."

"You have to be approved by a........................"

"The board and the congregation have to accept me as a member," she said.

"Wow!  That's rather exclusionary and biased and......snooty," I said.

"I would have been an asset to that church too.  I often helped the Pastor there.  One Sunday he was preaching from the book of Matthew and he didn't explain to the congregation that the last two chapters of Matthew, weren't written by Matthew.  They were added centuries later, by someone else with their own interpretation.  I told him after the sermon that I thought he should have informed the congregation of that and not let them think that was part of what Matthew wrote!"

Oh. oh.

"Another Sunday he mis-pronounced the names of two Greek cities.  I have been to both of those cities, so I told him the correct pronunciation." 

Hm-mm.  Now I understand what went on.

Dar got on her, "I know more about the scriptures than you do...high horse."

"Ah...have you ever thought that maybe you intimidated the Pastor and made him uncomfortable when he preached, because he knew, you know more about the Bible than he does?"

"Well, wouldn't he like that?  Wouldn't he like to have a member who could help him be a better teacher?"

Oh Dar--once again...it's all about you.

Did I say that?  Of course not!

"Well, I'm real sorry it didn't work out for you.  I know that you long to have a church."

"What I can't figure out," she said, "is why God would put me in that church, for so many months, only to take me out of it."

Perhaps God didn't put you in that church.  You saw it one day when you drove by.  You attended and thought, because it was a small church, you would have greater influence.

Did I say that?  Of course not!

"You just have to keep praying and asking God.  He will find you a church that is a perfect fit for you."  That's what I said.

Dar and I are quite different in our church needs.  She went to church with me one day and declared she didn't know why I even went to church.  "You go in, you sing, you listen to the sermon and then you leave.  Plus, I don't think your church is very spiritual."

Well, I never!!!! 

When Dar goes to church, she goes as much for the social interaction as the message from the pulpit.  She is gone at least two-three hours.  There is meeting people before the service and there is the social hour after church and then meetings with the Pastor or different "influential" people in the church.

She's right.  When I go to church, I enter the sanctuary, I sit down, I pray.  I do not talk to people in the pew in front or behind me.  I do not whisper.  We are all going to acknowledge each other later when the Preacher calls for the "greeting".  I love the songs, I love the choir anthem, I get what I can out of the sermon and then, as I leave, I shake the minister's hand and say Hi to people that greet me on my way out the door.  I have absolutely no interest in joining one of the Ladies groups.  I used to sing in the choir and loved that, but I never went to coffee hour after church.  I guess I'm odd.

In our Church, we don't have a lot of shouting, raising our hands upward, or people yelling out, "Yes."  "Tell it Brother", stuff like that.  We do get into an occasional Amen, but it isn't shouted out.  Like I said.  I'm a Methodist.  We don't get emotionally swept up too often.

Now Dar--she likes that sort of thing.  She has her hands up for most of the service.  She yells out.  She goes down to the altar every Sunday, after the sermon.  In our Church the only reason, other than for communion, anyone would go down to the altar is if they wanted to get "saved".  So, after she attended church with me that day and went through all her gyrations, which I must say startled my calm Methodist pew sitters, and she said, "I go down to the altar to show that I am a Christian."

Ah yes.  I think "show" is the operative word here.  It's all for show.  Oh, I shouldn't say that.  Maybe the spirit over takes her.  She has told me that she often speaks in tongues and when she does that, people will rush to lay hands on her.

Maybe they think she is in need of an exorcism?  Sorry--that was bad................................

All churches worship differently.  I guess it depends on the way you were raised.  My Mother taught me that when you enter the sanctuary, you are in the presence of God and you are to be quiet and in a prayerful mood.  My sister says, "What makes you think God is only in the sanctuary?  He's out in the hall...down in the basement."

It's just that I was raised in the older times in church and I have never quite gotten into the "charismatic movement."
======================
 I guess that's why I now enjoy watching church on TV.  There is no distraction.  I can center in on what the preacher is saying.  I can sing in my raggedity voice, all the while, sitting in my pajamas.  It's either that, or I have become a lazy bum.