This sounds like a routine you’d hear at a stand-up Comedy show!  It also explains to you guys what goes on in the ladies john!

My mother was a fanatic about public bathrooms.

When I was a little girl, she’d take me into the stall! , teach me to wad up toilet paper and wipe the seat. Then, she’d carefully lay strips of toilet paper to cover the seat. Finally, she’d instruct, “Never, NEVER sit on a public toilet seat.

Then she’d demonstrate “The Stance,” which consisted of balancing over the toilet in a sitting position without actually letting any of your flesh make contact with the toilet seat. By this time, I’d have wet down my leg and we’d have to go home to change my clothes.

That was a long time ago. Even now, in my more “mature years”, “The Stance” is excruciatingly difficult to maintain, especially when one’s bladder is full.

When you have to “go” in a public bathroom, you usually find a line of women that makes you think there’s a half-price sale on Nelly’s underwear in there. So, you wait and smile politely at all the other ladies, who are also crossing their legs and smiling politely. You get closer and check for feet under the stall doors.

Every one is occupied.

Finally, a door opens and you dash in, nearly knocking down the woman leaving the stall. You get in to find the door won’t latch. It doesn’t matter. The dispenser for the new fangled “seat covers” (invented by someone’s Mom, no doubt) is handy, but empty. You would hang your purse on the door hook if there was one – but there isn’t – so you carefully but quickly hang it around your neck (mom would turn over in her grave if you put it on the FLOOR!), yank down your pants, and assume “The Stance.”

Ahhhh, relief. More relief.

But then your thighs begin to shake. You’d love to sit down but you certainly hadn’t taken time to wipe the seat or lay toilet paper on it, so you hold “The Stance” as your thighs experience a quake that would register an eight on the Richter scale. To take your mind off of your trembling thighs, you reach for what you discover to be the empty toilet paper dispenser.

In your mind, you can hear your mother’s voice saying, “Honey, if you >would have tried to clean the seat, you would have KNOWN there was no toilet paper!”

Your thighs shake more. You remember the tiny tissue that you blew your nose on yesterday – the one that’s still in your purse. That would have to do. You crumple it in the puffiest way possible. It is still smaller than your thumbnail. Someone pushes open your stall door because the latch doesn’t work. The door hits your purse, which is hanging around your neck in front of your chest, and you and your purse topple backward against the tank of the toilet.

“Occupied!” you scream, as you reach for the door, dropping your precious, tiny, crumpled tissue in a puddle, and sliding down, directly onto the insidious toilet seat. You bolt up quickly, knowing all too well that it’s too late. Your bare bottom has made contact with every imaginable germ and life form on the uncovered seat because YOU never laid down toilet paper – not that there was any, even if you had taken time to try. You know that your mother would be utterly ashamed of you if she knew, because you’re certain that her bare bottom never touched a public toilet seat because, frankly, dear, “You just don’t KNOW what kind of diseases you could get.”

By this time, the automatic sensor on the back of the toilet is so confused that it flushes, sending up a stream of water akin to a fountain that suddenly sucks everything down with such force that you grab onto the toilet paper dispenser for fear of being dragged off to China.

At that point, you give up. You’re soaked by the splashing water. You’re exhausted. You try to wipe with a gum wrapper you found in your pocket, and then slink out inconspicuously to the sinks. You can’t figure out
how to operate the faucets with the automatic sensors, so you wipe your hands with spit and a dry paper towel and walk past a line of women, still waiting, cross-legged and, at this point, no longer able to smile politely.

One kind soul at the very end of the line points out that you are trailing a piece of toilet paper on your shoe as long as the Mississippi River! (Where was it when you NEEDED it??) You yank the paper from your shoe, plunk it the woman’s hand and tell her warmly, “Here, you just might need this.”

As you exit, you spot your hubby, who has since entered, used and exited the men’s restroom and read a copy of War and Peace while waiting for you. Annoyed, he asks, “What took you so long, and why is your purse hanging
around your neck?”

This is dedicated to women everywhere who have ever had to deal with a public restroom rest??? You’ve got to be kidding!!. It finally explains to the men what really does take us so long. It also answers their other commonly asked question about why women go to the restroom in pairs. It’s so the other woman can hold the door and hand you Kleenex under the door.

Thanks Skyline!

Off to Linden, Michigan this afternoon in search of plums.  At least Jay made a friend but alas they sold their last plums earlier today.

Fortunately they were able to refer us to another stand about two miles down the road and there our goal was accomplished. 

Roughly 80 miles round trip but worth the effort.
When we arrived home it was pitting, chopping, cooking, and filling the jars with what we hope will be great plum jam. 21 1/2 jars of regular and 5 jars of low sugar now sit on the counter pinging their little lids off and waiting labels.

Now dear readers we declare the Axsom’s canning kitchen officially close for the 2005 season.

What to do when your neighbor brings you two bags of Northern Spy apples from her backyard?
Why you make applesauce! 
Which we did today with Splenda (r) and Cinnamon.
To satisfy the diet and add a little more flavor.
We will freeze them in pint bags for storage.

With one more batch to make up we are thinking of adding a little nutmeg also.  Our first thought was to can pie filling but Jay isn’t supposed to have pie so the applesauce won out.

In another five days the plums should be in and that will pretty well shut down the canning season for us.

Last Thursday after Jay’s Doctor appointment we went to the grocery store and found Betty Crocker cake mixes priced at 10 for $10.  We came out with $20. worth.  Some for us and Deb asked us to pick up some for her.  There wiil be cupcakes in the Jenkins household for a while!  Yes we checked the expiration dates on them—well into 2006.

FINALLY, a way to know
what to pitch and what to save!

We all have this problem. 
Pam and Sally have decided to make the decisions easier.
Thanks Guys!
Also thanks to the guy in the image
who helps make the decisions in this house

THE GAG TEST
Anything that makes you gag is spoiled (except for leftovers from what you
cooked for yourself last night).

EGGS
When something starts pecking its way out of the shell, the egg is probably
past its prime.

DAIRY PRODUCTS
Milk is spoiled when it starts to look like yogurt. Yogurt is spoiled
when it starts to look like cottage cheese. Cottage cheese is spoiled
when it starts to look like regular cheese. Regular cheese is nothing
but spoiled milk anyway and can’t get any more spoiled than it is
already. Cheddar cheese is spoiled when you think it is blue cheese
but you realize you’ve never purchased that kind.

MAYONNAISE
If it makes you violently ill after you eat it, the mayonnaise is
spoiled.

FROZEN FOODS
Frozen foods that have become an integral part of the defrosting
problem in your freezer compartment will probably be spoiled – (or
wrecked anyway) by the time you pry them out with a kitchen knife.

EXPIRATION DATES
This is NOT a marketing ploy to encourage you to throw away perfectly
good food so that you’ll spend more on groceries. Perhaps you’d
benefit by having a calendar in your kitchen.

MEAT
If opening the refrigerator door causes stray animals from a
three-block radius to congregate outside your house, the meat is
spoiled.

BREAD
Sesame seeds and Poppy seeds are the only officially acceptable “spots” that
should be seen on the surface of any loaf of bread. Fuzzy and hairy looking
white or green growth areas are a good indication that your bread has turned
into a pharmaceutical laboratory experiment.

FLOUR
Flour is spoiled when it wiggles.

SALT
It never spoils.

CEREAL
It is generally a good rule of thumb that cereal should be discarded when it
is two years or longer beyond the expiration date.

LETTUCE
Bibb lettuce is spoiled when you can’t get it off the bottom of the vegetable
crisper without Comet. Romaine lettuce is spoiled when it turns liquid.

CANNED GOODS
Any canned goods that have become the size or shape of a softball should be
disposed of. Carefully.

CARROTS
A carrot that you can tie a clove hitch in is not fresh.

RAISINS
Raisins should not be harder than your teeth.

POTATOES
Fresh potatoes do not have roots, branches, or dense, leafy undergrowth.

CHIP DIP
If you can take it out of its container and bounce it on the floor, it has
gone bad.

EMPTY CONTAINERS
Putting empty containers back into the refrigerator is an old trick, but it
only works if you live with someone or have a maid.

UNMARKED ITEMS:
You know it is well beyond prime when you’re tempted to discard the
Tupperware along with the food. Generally speaking, Tupperware containers
should not burp when you open them.

GENERAL GUIDELINE:
Most food cannot be kept longer than the average life span of a hamster. Keep
a hamster in or near your refrigerator to gauge this by.

I ran into a stranger as he passed by,
“Oh excuse me please” was my reply.

He said, “Please excuse me too;
I wasn’t watching for you.”

We were very polite, this stranger and I.
We went on our way and we said goodbye.

But at home a different story is told,
How we treat our loved ones, young and old.

Later that day, cooking the evening meal,
My son stood beside me very still.

When I turned, I nearly knocked him down.
“Move out of the way,” I said with a frown.

He walked away, his little heart broken.
I didn’t realize how harshly I’d spoken.

While I lay awake in bed,
God’s still small voice came to me and said,

“While dealing with a stranger,
common courtesy you use,
but the family you love, you seem to abuse.

Go and look on the kitchen floor,
You’ll find some flowers there by the door.

Those are the flowers he brought for you.
He picked them himself: pink, yellow and blue.

He stood very quietly not to spoil the surprise,
you never saw the tears that filled his little eyes.”

By this time, I felt very small,
And now my tears began to fall.

I quietly went and knelt by his bed;
“Wake up, little one, wake up,” I said.

“Are these the flowers you picked for me?”
He smiled, “I found ‘em, out by the tree.

I picked ‘em because they’re pretty like you.
I knew you’d like ‘em, especially the blue.”

I said, “Son, I’m very sorry for the way I acted today;
I shouldn’t have yelled at you that way.”

He said, “Oh, Mom, that’s okay.
I love you anyway.”

I said, “Son, I love you too,
and I do like the flowers, especially the blue.”

FAMILY
Are you aware that if we died tomorrow, the company
that we are working for could easily replace us in
a matter of days.

But the family we left behind will feel the loss
for the rest of their lives.

And come to think of it, we pour ourselves more
into work than into our own family,
an unwise investment indeed,
don’t you think?

So what is behind the story?

Do you know what the word FAMILY means?

FAMILY = (F)ATHER (A)ND (M)OTHER (I) (L)OVE (Y)OU

Another Email Shane shared with me that deserves more viewing than my little list.

What a great September day.  The weather is pleasant—not too hot or too cold.
My wireless connection has consented to let me visit with you.
We picked up the truck today.  She is all better!
I need to weed the flower beds but I ain’t gonna!
I could mop the kitchen but I ain’t gonna do that either.
I am gonna take time off and enjoy the day!

Yesterday my neighbor Phyllis brought over some seedless grape jam made from her vines.
She also brought me two bluebird house to put up in my yard next April.

These houses caught the interest of Molly right away.

What is this thing?

I got to get a closer look!

Ooops guess there are no birds in here—Darn!

What was that old saying about curiosity killed a cat?

I’d known her for over thirty years.
She was bright, attractive, and clever.
It was the clever part she was using this afternoon.
She called to asked if she might visit awhile in the evening.
I knew something was up.
She hadn’t visited for a while so I know she wanted something.
What could it be?

A glimpse at that smile as she sat down across from me gave me the answer .
She was here to beat my ass (in her words).  The only way she knew how.
She knew it wasn’t like when I was hospitalized.
There no drugs to help me now.
I knew that it was futile to resist her challenge.
The outcome was decided the moment she walked in.
But I will always give it a try.

But nothing had changed Ladies and Gentlemen.
The Rummy Shark had hit again.
Two games and she won them both!
Her glee shone from her bight blue-green eyes,
She is still bright, attractive, and cleaver.
She deserves my praise.
I bow to you most cleaver Rummy Shark!

But one of these days I will rule again and don’t you forget it!!!

——-A friend of mine opened his wife’s underwear drawer and picked up a silk paper wrapped package:

“This, – he said – isn’t any ordinary package.”

He unwrapped the box and stared at both the silk paper and the box.

“She got this the first time we went to New York , 8 or 9 years ago. She has never put it on, was saving it for a special occasion. Well, I guess this is it. He got near the bed and placed the gift box next to the other clothing he was taking to the funeral house, his wife had just died. He turned to me and said:

“Never save something for a special occasion. Every day in your life is a special occasion”.

I still think those words changed my life.

Now I read more and clean less.

I sit on the porch without worrying about anything.

I spend more time with my family, and less at work.

I understood that life should be a source of experience to be lived up to, not survived through.

I no longer keep anything. I use crystal glasses every day..

I’ll wear new clothes to go to the supermarket, if I feel like it.

I don’t save my special perfume for special occasions, I use it whenever I want to.

The words “Someday…” and “One Day…” are fading away from my dictionary.

If it’s worth seeing, listening or doing, I want to see, listen or do it now.

I don’t know what my friend’s wife would have done if she knew she wouldn’t be there the next morning, this nobody can tell. I think she might have called her relatives and closest friends.  She might call old friends to make peace over past quarrels.

I’d like to think she would go out for Chinese, her favorite food. It’s these small things that I would regret not doing, if I knew my time had come.

I would regret it, because I would no longer see the friends I would meet, letters… that I wanted to write

“One of these days”.

I would regret and feel sad, because I didn’t say to my brother and sisters, son and daughters, not times enough at least, how much

I love them.

Now, I try not to delay, postpone or keep anything that could bring laughter and joy into our lives..

And, on each morning, I say to myself that this could be a special day..

Each day, each hour, each minute, is special.

I received this as an E-mail from my friend Dar but I felt it deserved to be read by all.

A quick peek at the fire bush in the front kitchen garden reminded me that fall was on the way. It hasn’t turned yet but traces of red are showing up.

My first project yesterday was to remove the air conditioner from the kitchen window. Seeing I do not lift well I had to figure another method. First I made sure that the wheeled garbage cart was under the window and that the pickup was backed up to the porch and cart as close as possible. Next I opened the window as Jay held onto the cord so I could ease the unit out onto the garbage cart without it falling off. Next I went outside and eased the unit off the cart and into the pickup bed. I drove down to the garage where I had a steel cart waiting. I eased the unit out of the truck bed, into the cart and rolled it through the garage into the basement. I parked the cart near a pickling crock and placed the unit on the crock. It was just about a foot and 1/2 to the floor now so I eased it down and slide itagainst the wall.  It is now safe and sound in it’s winter nest until next year.
For supper I made corn on the cob, potato salad, St Louis Bar BQ ribs ( thanks to Schwans), and corn bread muffins for our Labor Day supper.

Today I finished the ‘cuddle up and watch tv this winter sweater’ that I started last spring.

It promises to be nice and warm on those cold winter nights. When I started working on it I was not please with the color but seeing it finished it is not bad.

My second project today was to take my poor old crumpled pickup in to iron out the back of the quarter panel, the back bumper and get the tailgate fixed and back on.

This is what I will have to drive for the next few days. Same make, same color but a van instead of a pickup. Now I have driven vans and trucks for half my married life so I just need to remember to look in both the side views and the back window mirrors and I’ll be fine! Inside the control and gages are about the same.

The one thing I haven’t done is go out and sit in my swing so I am going to do that now. I hope you all had a nice holiday and I’ll visit again later!