I Voted Yesterday!

I went yesterday to vote in our Flori-duh primary. Easily found a parking spot very close to the door. Walked straight in - no problem. Went right up to the gentleman who was dealing with people who had last names in the section of the alphabet where my name falls. I handed him my driver's license - because your voter registration card is not considered valid identification to use for voting (HUH??). He then loudly announced my complete name for everyone in the room to hear. Scanned through his three-ring binder until he found it - and then announced my complete street address! I quietly asked him if voter information was supposed to be private. He replied that it was - said he was sorry for being so loud and asked me to sign beside my name in his little book.

He took a sticker from beside my name and stuck it on a little blue piece of paper. He handed it to me along with my license and pointed to a woman on the other side of another table and said to take it to her. A walked a few steps and stopped to read this little paper. Name, address, party affiliation and a place for a signature.

My cane and I thumped across the wooden Moose Lodge dance floor to voting assistance person #2. A lovely lady who I handed my little blue piece of paper to. She read it and then asked for my license. The likelihood that I had just mugged someone and stolen their little blue paper was ZERO. There were two other voters in there at the time and about ten workers. But, I guess rules are rules - so I handed her my license. She very carefully compared the two and then asked me what my address was! HUH?? Okay, I told her my address. She then commented on what a lovely street I live on. She asked me to sign the little blue slip of paper. I hesitated for a moment while she smiled at me . . . and I smiled back. When it became a little awkward, I asked for the paper and a pen. Flustered, she handed me both, I signed and asked for my license. She told me that she needed to verify my signature.

She finally relinquished my license and reached beside her and got an empty file folder and her "assistant" checked my little blue slip - announcing to the world loudly what my party affiliation was - and got a ballot to put in the file folder. You know, to respect my privacy. I asked them what the point of the folder was if they were going to yell out my affiliation as they put my ballot in the folder. I then asked if they might change the way they handled these things in the future. They might just get in trouble for stomping all over other people's freedoms!

I took my ballot into my little shielded area and did my duty - voting for who I hoped and prayed would be the best choice from what I had learned over the past several months. Then I went thumping over to the ballot eating machine. This thing looks very much like an industrial strength shredder. And when you slide your ballot in, it certainly sounds as if that's what's happening inside.

With our record here in Flori-duh, it wouldn't surprise me in the least if the final step at the local Moose Lodge voting site is to just shred your ballot as you pick up your "I Voted" sticker at the door!

Don't get me wrong. America is the greatest! I have yet to see any other country that even comes close to being as wonderful! I'll gladly live with all my petty little complaints - I will still fly my flag - proudly sing the national anthem and defend her. But - one of my rights is freedom of speech - and I choose to use it today!

My Own Little Editorial

At what point will they stop calling this Gulf of Mexico problem an "oil spill"? This is not an oil spill. It's an oil gusher run wild! I'm constantly amazed at the lack of organization and the total lack of concern by government and BP for the people and wildlife being damaged by all of this.

I agree that it's really important to figure out what happened. However, it's NOT important to figure it out until the flow of poison is stopped! The people who are supposed to be the best in the business are so busy appearing before congress, they don't have time to work on the problem. Yes, see if something can be done to prevent this from happening again . . . but let's wait until the flow has stopped and the worst of the damage has been mopped up. Let those guys go get their hands dirty cleaning up the mess they made.

There are thousands of people being damaged every minute. There are sea creatures dying by the truckload, there's vegetation dying that will never come back. How are you going to fix that? Can you run a Hoover over the beaches and just suck up all the globs of oil? Can you set up a super filter for the entire Gulf of Mexico, just like it was a huge swimming pool?

If everyone would stop making empty promises and empty threats - - and just get to the job at hand, the job will get done.

Hire all these unemployed people who depend on the Gulf for their living to help in one way or another with the clean up.

See to it that the equipment and technology are in place for the clean up. You would be amazed at how hard people will work to protect their homeland, if they know what to do and have the equipment to do it.

And quit paying all that money to show me ads on television about how bad you feel, BP! I don't care how bad you feel. Take that money and use it to stop that gusher!!

Dixie & Rascal

Dixie and Rascal are the rat terriers who own Dub and I. They took over our home about 6 years ago . . . and things have never been the same since!

The rat terrier breed of fuzzy faced four-leggers look remarkably like Jack Russell Terriers, but are not directly related. The "Ratter" is much more calm and much less stubborn. They are very easy to train when it's something that they are interested in! Both of our Ratters have a huge vocabulary! When we're outside, they know the difference between "cat", "snake" and "lizard". In the house, if you ask for a toy, they each bring a stuffed animal. If you ask for a bone, they search the corners and bring you bones. When you say ball - they get bouncy balls!

Dixie is the leader of the pack! Poor Rascal is so afraid of getting in trouble with her that he won't go anywhere near her if she's got a bone (which is most of the time). It has gotten so bad that when it's bed time, Rascal will sit in the living room and whine softly until Dub or I come and escort him into the bedroom. Every time Dixie snaps at him, poor Rascal screams like a little girl! Wonder if he'll ever grow up enough to stand up to her and snap back? . . . .

Nope - that'll never happen!

Rascal loves his dog food - - he'll go for treats and snacks, but does well on the dog food we give them. On the other hand, Dixie will only eat the dog food if she is starving! She much prefers whatever Dub is eating. One of her favorites is asparagus. She also likes watermelon, green beans, any kind of pasta, meat, eggs, carrots, french fries and will sit up and beg for iced tea! I think she would eat rocks if Dub was eating them, too! I wonder if that's why her shape so closely resembles that of Miss Piggy?!

Crossing The Borders

If you have not read the new Arizona law on illegal aliens, Google it - right now - and read it. It's only 17 pages. The first few pages deal with the actual issue itself. All the rest explains where the money from the fines will go and other miscellaneous details. The real meat is in the first few pages.

I have seen and read so much being said by so many "talking heads" that I just had to see exactly what this law said. From what I got out of it, all it does is reinforce the Federal laws that are already in place. It does NOT give police permission to stop you simply because you may look or sound foreign. However, if you are speeding and get stopped, they CAN ask for papers at that point and turn you over to the proper immigration authorities if you are in this country without legal authorization.

There are legal procedures for visiting the USA and for becoming a citizen here. Use them! Do it the right way. We welcome those who are willing to put in the effort to go through the proper steps to become a citizen. Sneaking in is not the way to do it.

It seems to me that illegals get here already knowing more about our welfare system than most Americans are aware of! They get subsidized housing, free medical care, free education for their children, free legal representation, free language lessons - all this from the government that I have been paying taxes to for my entire adult life and that won't give me anything for free!

Want to be welcomed by the citizens of America?

• Get a sponsor


• Apply for citizenship


• Learn the language (at least try)


• Don't complain because we do not all speak your language


• Work on the books and pay taxes


• When you break the law, don't complain that your arrest is because of your race

Please tell me what country I can move to where they will give me all of the benefits that illegals get here. When I call a government office I will be able to 'press 1' to talk to someone in my own language. And when I tell that government office that I'm illegal, they will ask me how they can help me!

I'll take a 2 bedroom, 2 bathroom cottage, on the beach, on the French Riviera, please!

Contratulations, Arizona - I like your style - and will be planning a vacation there soon!

Surprise!! I'm blogging again, maybe!

Edgar and I have decided to give blogging another try! Maybe!

Yesterday I had some business at a Federal office in another town about an hour away. I had checked very carefully in all of my correspondence with this Federal agency to make sure that I had the time and address right. Also checked for any special rules . . . you know, like No Terrorists Allowed - stuff like that! There were NO rules specified - no dress codes, etc.

After our hour and a half cruise on the Interstate in rush-hour traffic, we arrived at the designated Federal office building. A little unimpressive office in a string of offices. Most of the others were attorneys, CPA's, etc. We're not talking about some huge Federal compound here.

Being country bumpkins, my husband and I took our little Case knives out of our jeans pockets and left them in the car. (Country folks don't go too far without a sharp knife in their pocket.) There were no signs on the door or wall saying what was or wasn't allowed either.

We entered the building and found a receptionists desk, 4 waiting room chairs and a water fountain. At the desk sat a security guard, right hand resting on the butt of his gun. Here's how the conversation went:

WHO ARE YOU?

I gave him my name and introduced my husband.

SIGN IN.

I signed in on the sheet he pointed to.

WHERE'S YOUR CELL PHONE?

I got my phone out of my purse and showed him.

TURN IT OFF!

I smiled and turned it off.

YOU PACKIN'? (he was looking at my husband for this one)

Not knowing what the guy was talking about, hubby told him that he had left his knife in the car.

STAY WHERE YOU ARE!

Huh?

YOU MENTIONED WEAPONS - DON'T MOVE - I HAVE TO SEARCH YOU BOTH FOR WEAPONS!

Okay.

At this point, he got out his magic wand and checked my husband. The wand started screaming as he was checking his back. As hubby tried to explain about the metal from a back surgery, Mr. Security Guard got more and more nervous! Hubby asked for permission to get a card out of his wallet that would explain why his back set the gizmo off. Once that issue was settled, it was my turn.

My body made it through the magic wand test . . . but when he dug through my purse, he found the contraband 10 ounce water bottle (half empty).

THAT'S ENOUGH TO BLOW UP THIS WHOLE BLOCK!

Huh?

PUT IT IN YOUR CAR.

Hubby was kind enough to take it out to the car - and Mr. Security Guard actually asked him if he had still left his knife in the car when he came back in!

My appointment time finally came - and the person I was meeting with commented that I had certainly given his guard a very exciting morning! Seems that he had been watching from a camera mounted in the reception/waiting room!

Even with our security issues, the meeting was a success and everything was settled in my favor.

I am so glad to know that Barney Fife found work since leaving Mayberry!

EDGAR AND I WON AN AWARD ! !

Who could have ever guessed? How could we have possibly known? Edgar and I have won our very first ever blogging award from Steve (www.stevedeniesanywrongdoing.blogspot.com) just because we actually enjoy watching him go through his mail!

I'm not sure if that means that we are really wonderful people - or if we just have way too much time on our hands.

This is an honor we don't really deserve . . we take great pleasure in learning how to make Red Plum seem to be as exciting as winning a full year's supply of coffee filters!

Maybe I'll Get A Tattoo!

I'm just about over some of these folks that I see walking around with tattoos from the top of their heads to their toes!

While dining in restaurants, I've lost my appetite because of a woman who had her face covered with what looked like a huge snake skin.

As you walk through the mall there are people who have almost no skin showing at all - because everything is covered in vile, bloody scenes of murder and mayhem.

Somehow the old fashioned heart with MOM written in it has been replaced by a pit bull with fangs dripping blood!

A curvy pinup girl in a one piece bathing suit has turned into a stark naked female flaunting everything she's got.

I think that this is one of the few tattoos that I have seen lately that I would encourage a gentleman to get! It makes me want to meet this guy and have him tell me a good joke.

What do you think?