Sunday, May 24, 2009

I Don't Like Stupid People.

I don’t like stupid people.

We’re surrounded by them. Some of my peeves include people that:
- refuse to spay or neuter their pets
- tie or chain their dogs instead of providing a safe, fenced yard to play in
- let their dogs run loose in the neighborhood
- don’t use their turn indicators on their car
- go 35 mph in a 45mph zone
- go 45mph in a 35mph zone
- think it’s cool to play their “music” so loud in their cars that your own windows rattle and your ears pop
- think it’s cool to have a big, loud exhaust system on a mini-car
- park their shopping cart in the middle of the aisle so you can’t get by
- attempt to get on a packed elevator before the others can come out first (this goes for any doorway or waiting on a line)
- ignore the “no soliciting” sign on my door, and ring the bell anyway – then act all offended when I rip their lips off
- leave flyers and other trash on my doorstep when I’m not home
- try to push their religious beliefs on me
- won’t take no for an answer
- follow the pack instead of thinking for themselves
- are too vain and wrapped up in themselves to see the forest through the trees
- are slackers, thieves, ingrates, cowards and liars – in this category I figure if you’re one, you’re all five
There are a few things on this list that I admit are just a part of growing up, like the jerks with their loud music and cars. The others shouldn’t even have to be listed, as they are so obviously common sense type things. But with our nanny state, and Big Brother Bobo’s coronation oops I mean election, the lemmings/sheeples/people don’t even have a choice to raise their kids the way they want to. I believe there are times when a child between 3 and 7 may require a swat on the hiney. Of course corporal punishment should always be the last resort, after grounding and depriving of privileges. But I digress.

What worries me is the young adults of today WILL be our government ten and twenty years from now. Where are the real leaders going to come from? Young America today is fascinated with money, celebrity (or notoriety), violence, and cheap super-dangerous drugs. It’s up to US (you-ess Paul Harvey would to say) to work hard and get the citizens of this greatest country in the world back on track. We need to demand that our politicians get back to the basic laws of the Constitution. We need to remind them that “politician” basically means policy maker. We need to remind them that THE WHOLE POINT OF THE PILGRIMS COMING TO AMERICA WAS TO DENOUNCE THE “MONARCHY” AND DEMAND FREEDOM.

God please bless us all. Help us get back to the basic principles of our great country.

Wendy.

Saturday, May 16, 2009

No Politics Allowed.

Every now and then I need a reality check, to write about something other than politics. Something random yet inspiring; a feel-good story to put a grin on some gloomy gusses out there. Hope it works for you.

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My goofy black mostly-lab, Holly Huckleberry, has got to be one of the smartest canines ever. She plays me like a fiddle. She flunked puppy school, probably due to her DAD (Doggie Attention Disobedience). All she ever wants to do is fetch, fetch, fetch and run, run, run.

When Holly was two years old, I took her to Ocean Shores. It was November and the beach was deserted. I released Holly's leash and she took off at a dead run. She looked exactly like one of those old Disney cartoons - back legs overtaking front legs (what I call the butt-tuck run) and pink tongue flying out the corner of her mouth, seemingly trailing three feet behind her.

Holly ran around me and in front of me. I never saw a dog have so much fun! I stopped walking and looked behind me - there were three perfect circles one on top of the other, figure eight style, fashioned out of dog paw tracks, embedded in the wet sand. When I turned back around, there was Holly sitting in front of me laughing.

Holly is an excellent athlete. She can jump vertically from a sit position up to six feet - and does so on a regular basis at the back door if she wants to come in, or greet a visitor. She has cracked up many a guest with her antics. It really is pretty funny - my neighbor has dubbed her Tigger".

Miss Huckleberry is also a fantastic pitcher. She can aim and toss better than Randy Johnson. When I'm sitting on the deck out back Holly will slick up her ball with as much saliva as she possibly can, dunk it in her pool for good measure, then toss the slimed ball directly on to my lap. Of course, she sucks me in every time because I'm going to react by saying "Eww!" and flicking the ball away, right? Well, to Holly that constitutes a "tip-off" and the game must commence. Being a retriever, she won't give up until she finds the toy, so the only way to get her to stop is to fake her out with a bogus throw of the ball and run away while she's looking for it. Sounds kinda mean, but believe me - it's necessary. I'm afraid that if I didn't force Holly to rest, she'd literally run herself to death.

One day I was burning in my backyard pit, and Holly ran right up and threw her favorite baby smack-dab into the fire, then stood back and laughed at me. Of course she got me again - I couldn't let her baby burn up! So I fished it out of the fire just like she expected me to. Dang - I hate it when my dog gets the best of me!

I recently bought a memory-foam topper for my bed, hoping to get some relief for my back. Holly quickly learned - like within minutes - that if she got on the bed before me, she could rule the bed and get away with sleeping sideways and there was little I could do about it. Now that I think about it, all my kids do that. Amazing how a six pound cat can become ten if it wants to, and a sixty-five pound dog can become a hundred. If the furry little brats don't want to move they won't. I've spent many a night - okay, nearly every night - wedged between the girls; Holly to my right stretched out width-wise... Teo at my head, kneading and purring and sticking her wet nose and tickly whiskers in my ear... Emmy perched atop me, making like a snapping turtle if I dare touch her or God forbid, turn over. Ungrateful little thing, Emmy. But that's a different story.

(to be continued...)

Thursday, May 14, 2009

Great Start, Senator Becker!

I want to congratulate and personally thank 2nd District Senator Randi Becker for her outstanding performance in her freshman session. This has got to be the absolute worst time EVER to be an inexperienced, minority-party senator. The very thought of it nearly sends me into a panic attack. But I knew as soon as I met her, that Randi was special and would be successful in her campaign.

What makes Randi special is that she is so normal. She's a homebody, loves to work her land and take care of her horses. She's friendly and family oriented. She doesn't have a big ego. She was set to retire, and didn't have to take on the grubby job of the legislature. Yet she truly cared enough about our state and our country to postpone her retirement and use her management and people skills to help give the conservatives a strong voice. Her election for the 2nd District Senate in 2008 was historic for the PCRP and the WSRP. Randi takes her job seriously, which is to represent her constituents to the legislature. I know she worked very, very hard this first session. Although she tried to describe her experience to me several times, I don't recall her using FU.. words ending with the letter N (kidding Randi, just kidding! >(:0] maybe).

How refreshing for a politician to actually remember who "the boss" is and where their paycheck comes from. The extraordinary part is that Randi isn't in this for the money. Of course, that is probably why she will be so effective.

Randi - I pray you never change or become jaded. Keep that Cancer the Crab determination going!

God Bless America & All Americans!

Wendy

Saturday, May 9, 2009

Thank you mom

Yesterday I went "big shopping" and had a cartful of stuff. As usual, the Graham Safeway was packed (it doesn't seem to matter what time of day it is, that store is always crammed). The check-out stands were at least four people deep. I was lucky enough to sneak into one just as someone was finishing up.

I saw that in line behind me was a lovely lady about my mother's age, with just a carry-basket of stuff. I told her she could go ahead of me in line. At first, she declined, but after I insisted she smiled and said, "Thank you, sweetie, and happy mother's day!"

I don't have any human children. My kids all have four legs and fur coats. And although they can't speak English and never grow up and move out, I consider them my kids anyway. Hey, at least I don't have to pay for college!

But when that lady told me "happy mother's day", I wasn't insulted or irritated that she assumed I was a mom. Instead, I started thinking about my own mother, and what she went through with five kids under the age of 9 while holding down a highly stressfull full-time job. I remember watching out the window in the dark of winter, looking for her car headlights coming down our long and secluded driveway. When Mom finally got home, it was around 6:00 and she still had to make dinner for us. I don't know how she did it.

So here's to your mom, and every other mom I know!

And for my mom,
Thank you, Jane, for everything. I love you very, very much.

Dear God, please bless our moms, America, and all Americans.

Wendy