Let's Just Call This A Learning Experience...

Our Adventure Began Here

Cindy came home two weeks ago from a shopping excursion and told me about a Mexican supermarket she had discovered.  She said the name of it is "Fiesta", and they have a huge selection of south-of-the-border favorite foodstuffs.

The Food Court!

But the thing she really liked was the looks of the little dining area near the front of the store.  She said it appeared that they had all kinds of prepared Mexican food, which we love; and it also looked like they were inexpensive.  "We should go there!" she raved.

Prepping the Refried Beans

Well, today we did.  It was an experience.  The little cafe had most kinds of Mexican fare, preheated in a glass case.  I selected the tacos, rice and refried beans.  Cindy ordered the enchiladas with a salad, rice and beans.  We had to wait for about 15 minutes for the one server to get our order together.  The woman moved EXTREMELY S-L-O-W-L-Y.  I couldn't believe it.

Parmesan Cheese on Enchiladas?

Meanwhile, other customers were in line to place their orders and were becoming impatient.  When the server finally gave us our plates, she had two plates of enchiladas and no tacos.  I decided to just eat the enchiladas without complaint. 

Why Did God Make the Fly?---And Why Did He Make So Darn Many?

More fun began when we sat down on the picnic style tables they have in the dining area.  There was some dried food on the tabletops and some of Texas' larger flies were aggressively feeding.  We took our seats in one spot where there was little dried food and started to eat as our arms waved continuously at the buzzing insects.  Let me tell you the food was as bland and dry as it could be.  I have never before had Mexican food that was flavorless.  Also, inexplicably, the server had put parmesan cheese on the enchiladas.  I never heard of that, either.  Maybe it was an attempt to infuse some flavor into the dish?  If so, it didn't work.

It Is Important To Keep One's Sense of Humor!

I was so hungry I had to eat at least part of it.  Cindy found something mysterious in one of her enchiladas.  It was round and shiny---looked like the back of a cockroach to me, but Cindy said she thought it was a "gland" of some kind.  From that point on, Cindy ate no more enchilada, but she was also very hungry and decided to just eat the tortilla that surrounded the mystery meat. 

We won't be going back to the Fiesta market---at least, not to eat.  I told Cindy that although this was not a good experience, we will probably remember it longer than if we had had a good meal somewhere else.  I'm already laughing about it.

NOTE:  Cindy wrote about her version of today's lunch events on her blog at Cindy Ellison 

Did I Just See What I Think I Saw?

I had never seen this done in real life before

A while back, Cindy and I were traveling the back roads of Arkansas.  As we rounded a curve in the road at 50 MPH, I was startled to see a man in the front yard of his country home.  He was holding a dowsing (or "divining") rod in front of him and slowly pacing forward.  As soon as this scene appeared, it was gone, as we rounded another curve. 

I turned to Cindy and all I could say was, "Did I just see what I think I saw?"  She was as startled and amazed as I was.  I had never before seen anyone with a dowsing rod in my life---except in movies.

Dowsing is a type of divination used in attempts to locate ground water, minerals, ores, oil, gravesites, etc.

Using a Y-shaped twig, or "rod" from a tree or bush, the diviner holds the two ends of the Y and supposedly allows the rod to guide him to the spot where the object of his search is hidden.  Most common woods used for rods are hazel, witch hazel, willow and peach.

In the late 1960s, the U.S. military employed dowsing in the Viet Nam war in an attempt to locate undergound enemy tunnels and weapons.

There is no scientific evidence that dowsing is effective.

My Favorite Cemeteries....

Cindy and I long ago fell in love with the practice of checking out cemeteries in the towns and cities we visited.  No, no---there is nothing sinister here.  Visiting a cemetery gives the visitor a chance to gather the culture and flavor of the community.  There is always a palpable theme in the air as one progresses from one section of the graveyard to another, and from one headstone to the next.  One comes away from a tour of a community cemetery with a definite "feel" for the culture of the town.

While we have loved touring many, many cemeteries in many different places over the years, the following are at the top of our list of favorites:

Cave Hill Cemetery, Louisville, Kentucky
This cemetery is without a doubt the most unique we have ever seen.  There are so many different types of headstones and designs.  The area is pastoral and serene, but filled with history and creativity.  Some famous grave sites include:

Beautifully Serene and Haunting

---Saundra Curry Twist...This fashion model was killed in an automobile accident.  The statue over her grave reflects a sensual, peaceful, eternal presence.  I have never seen anything like it

Founder of KFC

---Colonel Harlan Sanders...The founder of Kentucky Fried Chicken is buried with his wife

My Favorite Poet

---Madison Cawein...My favorite poet, known as "The Keats of Kentucky", published over 30 volumes of outstanding verse.

Hollywood Cemetery, Richmond, Virginia
Overlooking the historic James River, this cemetery is the final resting place of 25 Confederate generals, including JEB Stuart and George Pickett.  The ancient oaks and hardwoods stand guard over the Southern dead.  It quietly and majestically projects a spiritual presence.  Some famous grave sites include:

Jefferson Davis

---Jefferson Davis, president of the Confederate States of America

Iron Dog Stands Eternal Guard

---Iron Dog, the loyal guardian stands eternal watch over the grave of a child

Lee's Brilliant Cavalry General

---JEB Stuart, brilliant cavalry general in Robert E Lee's Army of Northern Virginia

Crown Hill Cemetery, Indianapolis, Indiana
Located on 555 acres in Indianapolis, the cemetery is the third largest in the United States.  It is a pastoral setting of beautiful hardwoods and rolling hills.  Among its residents are 14 US senators, 14 Indianapolis mayors and 11 Indiana  governors.  The day Cindy and I visited here, we saw a red fox cavorting among the headstones.  A few of its famous sites are:

Public Enemy Number 1

---John Dillinger, gangster and bank robber from the 1930s, finally gunned down by police

U. S.President

---Benjamin Harrison, US president

A Most Beloved Poet

---James Whitcomb Riley, poet extraordinaire.  Known as "The Hoosier Poet", Riley wrote in a homespun dialect style that captivated the reader.  Interestingly, he occupies the most prominent grave site in all of Crown Hill---the highest point, with a spectacular view of the city of Indianapolis.  This location reflects the enormous respect the citizenry had for him at the time of his death.

Chicks and Hens!!!

Chicks & Hens are so very unique

Five years ago, Cindy and I traveled to Knoxville, Tennessee to visit friends.  One afternoon we spent a most pleasant time at the home of her aunt, Clara Ruth.  When we were leaving her house, I noticed a very interesting and unique group of plants clustered beside her front porch.

When I asked her about them, she said they are called Chicks and Hens.  They grow close to the ground.  The large, central plant---the "Hen"---is the main plant, and it spawns the "Chicks" around it.  The Chicks take root near the Hen and grow there. 

The leaves form in rosettes

The leaves form in a rosette.  Colors can range from purple to burgundy.  I think they are beautiful.

Clara Ruth dug three of her little plants up and gave them to me to take back to Texas for planting.  They thrive in loose, sandy soil and do not need much water.  Even I can get them to live long lives!

They thrive in loose soil & dry conditions

These pictures were taken on our back patio, where we have three large pots of them.  I love them.

Our Haunted House

Our Haunted House

Before Cindy and I moved to Texas, we lived in a suburb of Atlanta, Georgia.  We had rented an old three bedroom, brick home in an established neighborhood.  We thought we might be there for a couple of years until we determined what our work situation might be.

This home did have some charm---located on a full, wooded acre lot, with giant hardwoods and literally teeming with wildlife---chipmunks, rabbits, squirrels and all manner of birds. 

We were enjoying our home very much for the first few months, when a series of increasingly troubling incidents began to occur.

The first seemed so innocuous....we would simply hear unexplained noises from within the house---little creaks and groans that seemingly had no explanation.  "Well" I reasoned several times, "this is an older home, and we should expect noises and such."

One of our daughters came to visit one weekend.  She decided to go to bed early, and retired to the guest bedroom, and closed the door for the evening.  The next morning, we asked her if she slept all right.  She said she finally slept OK "after all that noise from the doors slamming."  Cindy and I didn't know what she was talking about.  We certainly had not slammed any doors, and we certainly had not heard anything unusual.  "Yes", she explained, "for about two hours after I got in bed, doors were slamming---VERY LOUD---from elsewhere in the house.  I can't believe you didn't hear it."

This was completely unexplainable.  Cindy and I just looked at each other and shrugged.  We began to understand better a few nights later after we had retired one evening.  We were lying in bed, not yet asleep, when the VERY LOUD slamming of doors began---it was very startling and unexplainable.  Now, let it be known that I sleep with a loaded .357 magnum handgun in the nightstand drawer next to the bed.  I immediately drew the weapon and set out on a search-and-destroy mission.  The only problem was that there was nothing there.  Nowhere.  I could not believe that there was not a real person present slamming doors.  This is when we began to understand our daughter's comments. 

Other times, we heard noises from our basement.  With gun in hand, in the middle of the night, I would investigate.  Nothing.  Nada.  Zip.

Our church welcomed a new preacher, and as part of his campaign to get to know the parishioners, he asked if he could come by our home for a few minutes to visit.  "Would 2:00 PM on the 20th be convenient?", he asked.  "Of course", we replied.  Well, at ten minutes 'til 2:00 we began to expect our doorbell to ring, but at 2:05, he had not arrived.  I looked out the front window, and his car was there.  I went to the front door and opened it.  There he stood.  I welcomed him to our home, but asked if he had rung the doorbell.  "Oh, yes", he said.  "Several times.  I was just getting ready to leave because I didn't think anyone was home".  I told him the doorbell had not rung---maybe it was not working.  "Oh, it works", he replied..."I could hear it ringing from the porch."  Cindy and I had no explanation of this event.  After he left, I tested the doorbell.  It worked fine.

The creepiest moment was one January night.  The temperature was 5 degrees and the wind was 20 MPH.  In short, it was bitter cold.  We went to bed and snuggled together for warmth.  Suddenly, heavy footsteps began walking down the hallway from our den toward our bedroom.  My mind interpreted this to be a heavy man, possibly with boots on, striding down our hallway to our bedroom at the end of the hall.  My first thought was to grab my gun.  But....something told me that this could not possibly be a human being---if it were, that would mean they would have had to have been outside in that terribly cold weather.  Absolutely NO ONE could have been outside that night.  Also, they would have had to break into the house, which would have made noise, which would have alerted me long before they got to the hallway.

So...I sat up in bed as the footsteps came right up to our doorway, where the sounds ceased.  There was no one there.   Cindy was present with me when all of these things happened, so I know it was not just me going crazy.  There were other similar incidents that occured which I have not described.

We tried, without success, to determine the history of that home---who had lived there, if there had ever been any unexplained death, or tragedy, or if there had been any previous reports of ghosts.  Neighbors we asked were not aware of any incidents. 

When we moved away, the ghost, or spirit, or force (whatever you want to call it) apparently remained behind.  Cindy was afraid it might follow us. 

If you had asked me if I believed in ghosts before all this happened, I would have said no.  But now, having experienced the presence of a spirit, I say yes.  There are things of this world that we mere mortals do not understand.

I would love to have your comments.

You'll Shoot Yourself in the EYE!!!

L-R My brother David, My dad, My mom and me

When I was about 12 years old, a bunch of the neighborhood boys decided in their collective wisdom to have some fun by doing battle with BB guns.  There were about six of us---three on each side.  We armed ourselves with our BB guns and went down to the creek which we had designated as the battleground.

Now, you know right away that nothing good was going to come of this.  My brother, who was five years younger than me, desperately wanted to "play" with the big boys, so we armed him with a BB gun and told him he could be a member of the opposing team.

Long story short---while we were engaged in battle, I looked up just in time to see a speeding BB headed right for my head.  I didn't even have time to blink before it struck me in the right eye.  Of course, I had never considered the possibility that I might be hit in the eye.  You could say I was not a deep thinker---or, as my dad would later remark, you might say I was stupid---which I certainly was.

Photo from "A Christmas Story"---"You'll shoot your eye out, kid!"

Anyway, we rushed home and my mom immediately took me to the doctor.  It turned out that I was going to be ok, and that no lasting damage was done, except to my butt when my father got home from work and found out what had happened.

My mom was also livid.  She screamed at my 7 year old brother, "HOW COULD YOU SHOOT YOUR BROTHER?"  He looked at her and said, "I dunno, mom---I guess it was a lucky shot."

Before and After....

Before I let my hair grow out

All my life I have worn my hair short.  This was originally prompted by my dad, whose favorite advice to me as a teenager was always "GET A HAIRCUT!!!"

Then, when I moved away from home and got established in business, almost all men wore their hair short.  This was expected.  Show up in front of a customer with a longer hairdo and run the risk of not being taken seriously.  I don't know why that was, but it was that way.

After Shampooing

Well, I retired last year and decided I wanted to see how my hair looked longer.  So, I went about five months without a haircut.  I looked pretty darn shaggy.  Then one fine day I shampooed and got my hair cut and styled.  Never had my hair styled before because I never had it long enough.

Here are the pics of before, after shampooing, and after styling.

After Styling

After Styling

NOTE:  These pics were taken several months ago---my hair is much longer now as I continue to let it grow.  I especially like it when my friends tell me I need a haircut.  I just smile.