Monday, August 29, 2011

Collectibles or Dustibles

The problem with collecting anything is that folks hear you collect, say birds, and then you get a slew of bird items you never wanted. I made the mistake of collecting baby birds made by this one artist. Well, before you know it I’ve got statues of all kinds of birds, kitchen towel with birds on them, plates with birds painted on them.


Well, you get the idea.


Then you’ve got to display all this stuff or else worry about hurting someone’s feelings. At least, that’s the way I used to think, years ago when I was young. Now I leave it in the box and figure when I go to meet my maker, one of my kids will have to take it to the Goodwill.


Another problem with having a collection of anything is that if you display them, well, they become “dustibles.” Yep, everyone of those little rascals has to be dusted at least once in a while or else they’ll be festooned with cobwebs. Believe me, I know this. Not because I have a lot dustibiles out, but because my best friend LuAnna collects everything under the sun.


I think she’s a border line hoarder, but of course, I’d never say that to the dear old girl. For now, I’ll just say she’s got a large collection of dustibles. And an even larger collection of cobwebs.


Hmmm, maybe I should tell everyone I'm collecting cobwebs and see how many I get.

Tuesday, August 16, 2011

Dairy Queen Nights

According to a recent article in the Tassanoxie Sentinel, our fair city is part of a micropolitan community. I’ve been wondering if this is a fancy phrase for getting too big for your britches. Not that I’m complaining. Being part of a micropolitan community means lots of places to eat and shop. Something we didn’t have before we became a part of a micropolitan community.


I can remember when the only place to get a hamburger was the Dairy Queen. It was one of those drive ups. You parked the car, got out and went up to one of the windows to place your order. The DQ closed up tight as a drum at 10 p.m. on weekends and 9 p.m. on weekdays. Convincing your mom and dad you got home past midnight because you stopped at the DQ for something to eat didn’t work, but it wasn’t for lack of trying on my part.


Since everything else was closed, there wasn’t much reason for us kids to be out after 10 p.m. Unless we were up to NO GOOD. Which we usually were. About the time I graduated, we got a 7-11. Hallelujah! A place that stayed open until 11 p.m.


That 7-11 made it a whole lot easier to claim we’d stopped by the store for a snack which ran us late. Looking back, I doubt my parents believed for a minute that’s where I was with whoever I was dating. And I’m grateful cell phones with GPS were a long way in the future.

Sunday, August 7, 2011

Josh Johnson's Back in Town

I hear tell, Josh Johnson has come back to Tassanoxie and took the coaching job at the junior college. I remember he was quite the baseball sensation when he was in high school and was drafted by some professional team as soon as he graduated. We didn’t hear much about him after he left town. Sam says Josh played minor league baseball out West-when he played. Poor boy was injury prone.


I remember when Josh dated Merry Martinelli. Her parents still live behind us. My Jeb used to turn on all the flood lights when he let the dog out at night. You never heard such scrambling on the Martinelli’s porch as those two young’uns. Jeb liked to have laughed himself silly every weekend night.


Now that sweet Merry is an elementary school teacher. Seems like she was in elementary school not so long ago.


As for Josh, it’s good to have a nice young man like him back in town. Since he’s single, his being back should stir up some matchmaking mamas.



Oh my, the oven timer’s a buzzing. My casserole is done.