Do you believe in angels? Have you ever seen one? I may have...
Read on......decide for yourself!
Shortly after the separation from my husband, I moved back to my home state of New York. I secured a job at a commercial bakery, working 3rd shift.
One night, Old Man Winter decided to show his stuff. The wind was whipping around so hard that the snow looked like a swirling, whirling tornado. The howling was deafening. The road surface was slick, and the normally 3-lane highway was reduced down to just one.
Slowly but steadily, I plowed forth, all the while praying, "Please Lord, help me to see. Please Lord, help me to see..."
I had been looking for something, anything to help make my crazy life make sense. Kelly, a friend at work, had told me about a church that he and his wife started attending.
The next Sunday, I tried it. I loved it! It was kid friendly, had a fantastic worship team and a wonderful, humorous pastor. They had taught me to pray for what I needed in life and at that moment, I needed good vision!
Suddenly, through the dizzying snow a dark figure emerged. It looked like an alien walking down the middle of the highway! I felt as if I were in a sci-fi movie.
I swerved to avoid hitting the "thing". Hitting a patch of ice, my car skidded into a snowbank. The hood of the car was submerged in snow up to the windshield.
A kindly gentleman stopped to make sure I was alright. When I questioned him about the figure in the road, he said it was a man! We were both mystified! Why would a man be walking down an interstate in the middle of a snowstorm?
Out of nowhere a police officer stopped by. We explained the situation, and the officer took off to look for the man. He returned a few minutes later with the man.
The officer pulled me aside and told me the fellow was homeless- a bum were his words....Apparently this was not the first time this man had almost been hit.
The officer asked the bum to get in the front seat and asked if I'd mind hopping in the back while he made out my report.
I felt very strange- I had never been inside a police car before. I kept thinking everyone going by would would think I was being arrested!
The bum sat silently, content in his own little world. He stared straight ahead as the officer gave his speach about the dangers of walking down the middle of the highway.
Although the bum never looked my way, I had a strange feeling.....there was a sense of peace and calm about him.
As the officers voice droned on, my mind turned to the subject of Sunday's sermon. The message was to be kind to strangers- invite them into your home for a meal. Apparently, they may be angels send from above.
I kept getting the feeling this bum was in the middle of the road for something- maybe he was an angel and this was a test. Perhaps I was supposed to tell him about Jesus' love for us.
I could almost feel a tug-o-war... Jesus saying, "Tell him, tell him..." and Satan saying, "Shhhh....you'll sound like a Jesus freak."
My mouth wanted to speak the joy of the Lord, but my mind wouldn't let it. I kept my peace and said nothing.
Just as the officer was finishing up my report, the tow truck arrived. My car was removed from the snowbank and deemed ok to drive.
I was late to work, but everyone was happy I was ok. When I recounted the incident to Kelly, he said, "Do you think he was an angel sent from GOD? Did you witness to him?"
When Kelly said that, I almost fell to the floor. He said exactly what I had been thinking while sitting in the back of that police car.
Over the years, I have often wondered about that man walking down the middle of the road. Was he an angel sent from heaven...or just a bum wandering around in his own little world?
And the most burning question ...did I fail the test?
Friday, February 4, 2011
Thursday, April 22, 2010
Happy Earth Day!
Here is another article I had published in the Syracuse Family Times magazine in the April 2005 issue. Not humorous, but....
Trash Talking
Neighborhood Cleanups Mark Earth Day
My siblings and I practically drooled in expectation. Junk food and candy were reserved for long trips, and we were off to grandma's house, three hours away. We pounced on that candy, tearing off the wrappers at lightening speed. But mom was faster!
"Give me your wrappers" she demanded, reaching her hand back from the front seat. These bits of paper were placed in her purse or coat pocket to be thrown out later in a trash can. "It's not nice to litter" she would remind us.
Mom, of course, never went so far as to found a national event, but it was that same spirit that spurred the designation of April 22 as Earth Day. Started in 1970 by American John McConnell, Earth Day remains an opportune time for parents to teach their children about the environment, share their concerns, and discuss ways the family can help.
Tidying your small corner of the world is one way to contribute. A community clean-up, whether of the local playground, park or roadside, will allow you to get more done while also getting neighbors together socially.
Begin by recruiting volunteers, and be sure to include both children and parents.
A church or fire department may be willing to donate space for an organizational meeting. Inform your neighbors of the meeting by distributing fliers, making phone calls or placing an article in the local paper.
At the meeting, set a date and time for the event. You may also want to check with your city, town, or village to see if there is an official cleanup with which you can coordinate.
Form teams and map out what areas are to be covered. Remember to address issues such as safety, including how to handle needles and broken glass. Remind parents that children need to be accompanied by an adult.
Make arrangements with a sanitation company for garbage pick-up or ask for volunteers with trucks to transport the garbage to a landfill.
Plan on snacks and drinks to be served after the event , or ask volunteers to contribute a food item and have a potluck dinner. It will be a welcome treat after a day's work and a chance to mingle with the neighbors.
On the day of the cleanup, hand out bags and boxes to hold the garbage collected. Agree to meet back at a specified time. At that time, prepare the garbage by separating it into individual categories: glass, plastic,paper, and everything else.
Children will have the reward of seeing just how much trash has been collected. Explain to them that, while items such as cotton, rags and paper take about 6 months to decompose, while plastics and aluminum can take up to 500 years! As I often tell my kids, imagine if everyone in the world threw just one gum wrapper or soda can on the ground....
___________________________________________________________________________
Earth Day Everyday
For the Kids....Make a Litter Critter!
This craft will remind children that we share the environment with all living creatures.
You will need:
Plaster of paris
Plastic Spoons
Acrylic or all-purpose paint
paintbrushes
magnets (if desired)
Mix 1 cup of plaster of Paris according to directions on the box. Slowly pour the mixture into the bowl part of the plastic spoons and let dry.
When hardened, pop the shapes out of the spoons. paint your critter as desired with eyes, ears, paws, etc..
Apply a magnet to the back, if desired.
Trash Talking
Neighborhood Cleanups Mark Earth Day
My siblings and I practically drooled in expectation. Junk food and candy were reserved for long trips, and we were off to grandma's house, three hours away. We pounced on that candy, tearing off the wrappers at lightening speed. But mom was faster!
"Give me your wrappers" she demanded, reaching her hand back from the front seat. These bits of paper were placed in her purse or coat pocket to be thrown out later in a trash can. "It's not nice to litter" she would remind us.
Mom, of course, never went so far as to found a national event, but it was that same spirit that spurred the designation of April 22 as Earth Day. Started in 1970 by American John McConnell, Earth Day remains an opportune time for parents to teach their children about the environment, share their concerns, and discuss ways the family can help.
Tidying your small corner of the world is one way to contribute. A community clean-up, whether of the local playground, park or roadside, will allow you to get more done while also getting neighbors together socially.
Begin by recruiting volunteers, and be sure to include both children and parents.
A church or fire department may be willing to donate space for an organizational meeting. Inform your neighbors of the meeting by distributing fliers, making phone calls or placing an article in the local paper.
At the meeting, set a date and time for the event. You may also want to check with your city, town, or village to see if there is an official cleanup with which you can coordinate.
Form teams and map out what areas are to be covered. Remember to address issues such as safety, including how to handle needles and broken glass. Remind parents that children need to be accompanied by an adult.
Make arrangements with a sanitation company for garbage pick-up or ask for volunteers with trucks to transport the garbage to a landfill.
Plan on snacks and drinks to be served after the event , or ask volunteers to contribute a food item and have a potluck dinner. It will be a welcome treat after a day's work and a chance to mingle with the neighbors.
On the day of the cleanup, hand out bags and boxes to hold the garbage collected. Agree to meet back at a specified time. At that time, prepare the garbage by separating it into individual categories: glass, plastic,paper, and everything else.
Children will have the reward of seeing just how much trash has been collected. Explain to them that, while items such as cotton, rags and paper take about 6 months to decompose, while plastics and aluminum can take up to 500 years! As I often tell my kids, imagine if everyone in the world threw just one gum wrapper or soda can on the ground....
___________________________________________________________________________
Earth Day Everyday
- Plant a tree- Paper, furniture, toothpicks, and cosmetics are just some of the 5,000 items made from trees and tree extracts. Tress also help cool the earth and air through shading and water evaporation. By giving off moisture, trees help create rain.
- Beautify your home- chemicals in our homes and offices create health problems. Placing houseplants in a room will absorb these chemicals and put oxygen back into the air. One potted plant per 100 square feet will clean the air in an average sized home or office.
- Recycle old paper- Flyers, gift wrap and wall paper all make great canvas for budding artists.
- Make a compost pile- Biodegradeable garbage such as fruit and vegetable scraps are the pile's ingredients. When it turns to compost, use it in the garden.
- Don't litter- Be a good example.
For the Kids....Make a Litter Critter!
This craft will remind children that we share the environment with all living creatures.
You will need:
Plaster of paris
Plastic Spoons
Acrylic or all-purpose paint
paintbrushes
magnets (if desired)
Mix 1 cup of plaster of Paris according to directions on the box. Slowly pour the mixture into the bowl part of the plastic spoons and let dry.
When hardened, pop the shapes out of the spoons. paint your critter as desired with eyes, ears, paws, etc..
Apply a magnet to the back, if desired.
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
Christmas Chaos!
It is perhaps the most dreaded experience of all. No one REALLY wants to do it, but do it they must. Yes, it is again that time of year- Christmas shopping!
You spend countless hours walking around the department stores and malls. Your legs ache. The blisters on your feet pop each time you take a step. You have writer's cramp from signing so many credit card slips. Worst of all, you've lost the family car somewhere in the vast sea of Neon's, Hyundai's and SUV's. You wonder if you are in the early stages of Alzheimer's. You must be, you've already forgotten what you just bought.
Flash forward to Christmas Eve. You stay up all night wrapping presents. You KNOW the kids are going to love them.
At 5 a.m., the kiddies wake you up. The baby gently kicks you and says, "Dadda, why you sleepin' under the twee?" You jump up and wonder- why WERE you sleeping under the tree?
You scratch your head in wonder and hear the rustling of paper. 6 year old Suzie rips a bow out of your hair.
"Yeah, and why ya wearing a bow on your head?"
The kids start begging and pleading with you, eager to open their presents. Finally, you relent.
Suzie opens her first gift- a Barbie. She opens another...a fancy car for Barbie! She's elated! Now Barbie can cruise around town, looking for a new boyfriend. It took Barbie over 40 years to kick Ken to the curb. He was a real loser, and it took her that long to figure it out.
Suzie opens another package. Clothes! Bathing suits, ball gowns, and shorts. Skin tight jeans and slinky halters that barely fit over Barbie's shapely curves. There are shoes and hair ties of every color. Barbie must look sharp. Barbies clothes cost more than Little Suzie's "back to school" ensemble.
Baby Jeffrey gets all kinds of colorful, noisy toys. The toys come in all kinds of boxes. Jeffrey immediately chucks the toys and sits in a box. "Vroom,....Vroom..." He stands up and places another box on his head. He twirls around and around in circles, making himself dizzy. He crashes into furniture and people alike, screeching out his joy. You and your better half try to get his attention.
"Jeffie, look at the car." You demonstrate how the wheels go round and round. "Vroom, Vroom! Look at Daddy!" Jeffie whizzes by in his box, "Vroom,vroom..."
"Jeffie, put the box down and play with the toys!"
Jeffie has other plans. "No, play with box."
Ever so gently, you remove the box from Jeffie's hand. You furiously grab another toy and stuff it in his hand. "But look Jeffie, look at the Bob the Builder toy!" With the precision of a professional baseball player, Jeffie throws the toy clear into the next room. It hits a coffee cup sitting on the counter, causing it to smash to the ground. Jeffie experiences a major meltdown with crying too horrible to bear. You return the box.
Suddenly, Suzie flies by. "Vroom...Vroom! She is pushing a naked Barbie around in one of Jeffies boxes.
"Suzie, where are your new Barbie clothes?" you inquire. Susie gives you a blank stare.
"Where are the Barbie clothes and the car you got for Christmas?"
"I dunno...vroom...vroom." Away she goes to enjoy the wonderful new toys- Naked Barbie's and cardboard boxes.
I am purposing a way to make Christmas more affordable for the parents, and still be fun for the kids.
Skip the Barbie Volkswagen Beetle that costs $29.99.
Forget the Barbie clothes. With each outfit (don't forget hair ties!) costing approximately $10.00 apiece, that's about $100.00 in your pocket.
Save $100.00 or more on useless stuff for Jeffie. He doesn't care about the stuffed animals, cars and other boring toys. He wants the boxes! Go to the nearest store and get him a bunch of boxes of assorted sizes. He'll be happy as a clam. Give one of the boxes to Suzie to use as a car for her dolls.
Next take the money you saved on gifts and hire a babysitter for the kids. Go out on the town.
Eat, drink and be merry. That may be the best gift yet!
Ho-Ho-Ho, Merry Christmas
You spend countless hours walking around the department stores and malls. Your legs ache. The blisters on your feet pop each time you take a step. You have writer's cramp from signing so many credit card slips. Worst of all, you've lost the family car somewhere in the vast sea of Neon's, Hyundai's and SUV's. You wonder if you are in the early stages of Alzheimer's. You must be, you've already forgotten what you just bought.
Flash forward to Christmas Eve. You stay up all night wrapping presents. You KNOW the kids are going to love them.
At 5 a.m., the kiddies wake you up. The baby gently kicks you and says, "Dadda, why you sleepin' under the twee?" You jump up and wonder- why WERE you sleeping under the tree?
You scratch your head in wonder and hear the rustling of paper. 6 year old Suzie rips a bow out of your hair.
"Yeah, and why ya wearing a bow on your head?"
The kids start begging and pleading with you, eager to open their presents. Finally, you relent.
Suzie opens her first gift- a Barbie. She opens another...a fancy car for Barbie! She's elated! Now Barbie can cruise around town, looking for a new boyfriend. It took Barbie over 40 years to kick Ken to the curb. He was a real loser, and it took her that long to figure it out.
Suzie opens another package. Clothes! Bathing suits, ball gowns, and shorts. Skin tight jeans and slinky halters that barely fit over Barbie's shapely curves. There are shoes and hair ties of every color. Barbie must look sharp. Barbies clothes cost more than Little Suzie's "back to school" ensemble.
Baby Jeffrey gets all kinds of colorful, noisy toys. The toys come in all kinds of boxes. Jeffrey immediately chucks the toys and sits in a box. "Vroom,....Vroom..." He stands up and places another box on his head. He twirls around and around in circles, making himself dizzy. He crashes into furniture and people alike, screeching out his joy. You and your better half try to get his attention.
"Jeffie, look at the car." You demonstrate how the wheels go round and round. "Vroom, Vroom! Look at Daddy!" Jeffie whizzes by in his box, "Vroom,vroom..."
"Jeffie, put the box down and play with the toys!"
Jeffie has other plans. "No, play with box."
Ever so gently, you remove the box from Jeffie's hand. You furiously grab another toy and stuff it in his hand. "But look Jeffie, look at the Bob the Builder toy!" With the precision of a professional baseball player, Jeffie throws the toy clear into the next room. It hits a coffee cup sitting on the counter, causing it to smash to the ground. Jeffie experiences a major meltdown with crying too horrible to bear. You return the box.
Suddenly, Suzie flies by. "Vroom...Vroom! She is pushing a naked Barbie around in one of Jeffies boxes.
"Suzie, where are your new Barbie clothes?" you inquire. Susie gives you a blank stare.
"Where are the Barbie clothes and the car you got for Christmas?"
"I dunno...vroom...vroom." Away she goes to enjoy the wonderful new toys- Naked Barbie's and cardboard boxes.
I am purposing a way to make Christmas more affordable for the parents, and still be fun for the kids.
Skip the Barbie Volkswagen Beetle that costs $29.99.
Forget the Barbie clothes. With each outfit (don't forget hair ties!) costing approximately $10.00 apiece, that's about $100.00 in your pocket.
Save $100.00 or more on useless stuff for Jeffie. He doesn't care about the stuffed animals, cars and other boring toys. He wants the boxes! Go to the nearest store and get him a bunch of boxes of assorted sizes. He'll be happy as a clam. Give one of the boxes to Suzie to use as a car for her dolls.
Next take the money you saved on gifts and hire a babysitter for the kids. Go out on the town.
Eat, drink and be merry. That may be the best gift yet!
Ho-Ho-Ho, Merry Christmas
Friday, December 4, 2009
This Guest Was A Real Pest
(This was written a couple of years ago- just didn't know where to send it to for publishing)
When you live in the country, you never know who (or what) might come to call. Noises inside the walls were my first clue that we had uninvited guest. When I found nuts and other goodies in the corner of the pantry, I realized this guest was a real pest!
I was no stranger to varmints. My childhood home was across the street from an open field. Mice would come to visit, seeking a bit of warmth and something to snack on. We would laugh as we watched them eat out of the dog’s dish. It might seem like redneck entertainment to some, but hey, we lived in a small town.
I doubted this intruder was furry and cute. Loud and rambunctious, it took over our household at night. I was sure it was a rat, possibly a chipmunk or squirrel. Cute little mice were one thing; big rodents were different. Sleep was hard to come by. I didn’t know what might run across my face at night!
I first sighted the mischievous rodent on a fall afternoon. It had been raining for days, and the gloomy atmosphere gave the appearance of dusk rather than early afternoon. I was preparing supper when the offensive scamp ran by me, about ½ inch from my foot. I only saw it out of the corner of my eye, but it looked BIG! After that every shadow made me jump. Even the cat seemed afraid and would only eat with a light on.
That evening, while cleaning up after supper, we heard a rattling under the sink. My daughter opened the cupboard door. “There’s a mouse in a bottle” she yelled. I peered into the cupboard, and slowly reached for the bottle. With lightening speed, I tipped the bottle over, trapping the mouse. He died within minutes, but we gave it a little extra time just to be sure. Going about our nightly rituals, the mouse was forgotten. The next morning when I opened the cupboard door, he was gone! I was being duped by a little mouse and I didn’t like it one bit. I vowed to catch this thing, no matter what!
Needing some ammunition to win this war, I went shopping for mousetraps. The choices were staggering. Did I want a sticky trap; a live trap or one of those old fashioned spring traps? Not wanting to cause the poor mouse any suffering, I ruled out the sticky traps and anything with poison. I decided against a live trap, sure the mouse would return in a few days. I finally opted for a quick and painless death- The spring trap. Snap the neck and the deed is done.
I craved a good nights sleep. That night, I set the traps. I used peanut butter topped with grated cheese as bait- Yummy! Although mousetraps are extremely simple contraptions, they are at the same time complicated. Not everyone has the patience and finesse needed to set one. I certainly didn’t! The trap kept springing on me, splattering grated cheese around the room. After numerous tries, I finally had it set. I cleaned the cheese off the walls and floor. I then went to bed; sure I would catch our little escape artist.
Checking the trap the next morning, I laughed when I saw the bait was gone, yet the trap remained empty. This was no ordinary mouse. I named it Houdini.
I vowed to catch Houdini if it took every fiber of my being! I took American cheese and wrapped it around the “platform” that the bait goes on. This time, the cheese wasn’t going anywhere, which was proven the next 5 times I attempted to set the trap.
Needing a break from the stresses of trap setting, I went out to check the mail. Upon my return, I stopped dead in my tracks. On the counter stood the mouse, eating the cheese off the unset trap. It looked at me and smirked!
Now I was mad! I slammed the door, scaring the mouse away. I return to the nerve wracking task of trap setting. Finally, I was successful. I S-L-O-W-L-Y walked to the kitchen sink. Gently I placed the trap underneath.
Within an hour-SNAP- Houdini wasn’t such a great escape artist after all! He had put up a good fight. I almost felt guilty. But not that guilty. I emptied the trap, and set it again. A short while later- SNAP! Another one. How many more were there?
I reset the trap, placing it under the sink. A day went by, then two. No mice. As weeks went by, the trap remained critter free. I stood victorious- I had won the war. My uninvited guest (I mean pest) problem was over- for the time being!
Now I need to figure out how to set those ant traps…..
Carolee Sperry
December 4, 2009
When you live in the country, you never know who (or what) might come to call. Noises inside the walls were my first clue that we had uninvited guest. When I found nuts and other goodies in the corner of the pantry, I realized this guest was a real pest!
I was no stranger to varmints. My childhood home was across the street from an open field. Mice would come to visit, seeking a bit of warmth and something to snack on. We would laugh as we watched them eat out of the dog’s dish. It might seem like redneck entertainment to some, but hey, we lived in a small town.
I doubted this intruder was furry and cute. Loud and rambunctious, it took over our household at night. I was sure it was a rat, possibly a chipmunk or squirrel. Cute little mice were one thing; big rodents were different. Sleep was hard to come by. I didn’t know what might run across my face at night!
I first sighted the mischievous rodent on a fall afternoon. It had been raining for days, and the gloomy atmosphere gave the appearance of dusk rather than early afternoon. I was preparing supper when the offensive scamp ran by me, about ½ inch from my foot. I only saw it out of the corner of my eye, but it looked BIG! After that every shadow made me jump. Even the cat seemed afraid and would only eat with a light on.
That evening, while cleaning up after supper, we heard a rattling under the sink. My daughter opened the cupboard door. “There’s a mouse in a bottle” she yelled. I peered into the cupboard, and slowly reached for the bottle. With lightening speed, I tipped the bottle over, trapping the mouse. He died within minutes, but we gave it a little extra time just to be sure. Going about our nightly rituals, the mouse was forgotten. The next morning when I opened the cupboard door, he was gone! I was being duped by a little mouse and I didn’t like it one bit. I vowed to catch this thing, no matter what!
Needing some ammunition to win this war, I went shopping for mousetraps. The choices were staggering. Did I want a sticky trap; a live trap or one of those old fashioned spring traps? Not wanting to cause the poor mouse any suffering, I ruled out the sticky traps and anything with poison. I decided against a live trap, sure the mouse would return in a few days. I finally opted for a quick and painless death- The spring trap. Snap the neck and the deed is done.
I craved a good nights sleep. That night, I set the traps. I used peanut butter topped with grated cheese as bait- Yummy! Although mousetraps are extremely simple contraptions, they are at the same time complicated. Not everyone has the patience and finesse needed to set one. I certainly didn’t! The trap kept springing on me, splattering grated cheese around the room. After numerous tries, I finally had it set. I cleaned the cheese off the walls and floor. I then went to bed; sure I would catch our little escape artist.
Checking the trap the next morning, I laughed when I saw the bait was gone, yet the trap remained empty. This was no ordinary mouse. I named it Houdini.
I vowed to catch Houdini if it took every fiber of my being! I took American cheese and wrapped it around the “platform” that the bait goes on. This time, the cheese wasn’t going anywhere, which was proven the next 5 times I attempted to set the trap.
Needing a break from the stresses of trap setting, I went out to check the mail. Upon my return, I stopped dead in my tracks. On the counter stood the mouse, eating the cheese off the unset trap. It looked at me and smirked!
Now I was mad! I slammed the door, scaring the mouse away. I return to the nerve wracking task of trap setting. Finally, I was successful. I S-L-O-W-L-Y walked to the kitchen sink. Gently I placed the trap underneath.
Within an hour-SNAP- Houdini wasn’t such a great escape artist after all! He had put up a good fight. I almost felt guilty. But not that guilty. I emptied the trap, and set it again. A short while later- SNAP! Another one. How many more were there?
I reset the trap, placing it under the sink. A day went by, then two. No mice. As weeks went by, the trap remained critter free. I stood victorious- I had won the war. My uninvited guest (I mean pest) problem was over- for the time being!
Now I need to figure out how to set those ant traps…..
Carolee Sperry
December 4, 2009
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
Grocery Store Madness
Poem I wrote for a contest- I didn't win :-(
Oh no, Oh no, it's time to go
There is no time to spare
The kiddies want to eat right now
The cupboards almost bare
Gather the coupons, head to the store
We need cereal, milk and so much more
Grab a cart; a wheel spins the wrong way
At the rate I'm going, it will take me all day
I finally make it to the produce aisle
Where the fruit is bruised and the veggies look vile
Off to the snacks- the chip bags look skimpy
The boxes of crackers look small and whimpy
We need some meat for the evening meal
I check out the pork, the beef and the veal
The pork is fatty, the steak costs too much
I guess it will be Hamburger Helper with the "mommy touch"
I rush to get milk- my nerves are fried
I look around, mystified!
Cows milk, and soy milk and rice milk, too
There are too many choices, what shall I do?
I grab one of each- I really don't care
I just want to get the heck out of here!
The lady up front takes all my money
She gives a big smirk saying, "Thank ya, honey!"
Finally I'm free from the grocery store
I drive away, done with my chore
I get home and start unloading the car
The kids knock me over for an ice cream bar
They will no longer hunger nor will they fade away
Momma's brought home the goodies- they're happy for the day.
The End!
Carolee Sperry
December 2, 2009
Oh no, Oh no, it's time to go
There is no time to spare
The kiddies want to eat right now
The cupboards almost bare
Gather the coupons, head to the store
We need cereal, milk and so much more
Grab a cart; a wheel spins the wrong way
At the rate I'm going, it will take me all day
I finally make it to the produce aisle
Where the fruit is bruised and the veggies look vile
Off to the snacks- the chip bags look skimpy
The boxes of crackers look small and whimpy
We need some meat for the evening meal
I check out the pork, the beef and the veal
The pork is fatty, the steak costs too much
I guess it will be Hamburger Helper with the "mommy touch"
I rush to get milk- my nerves are fried
I look around, mystified!
Cows milk, and soy milk and rice milk, too
There are too many choices, what shall I do?
I grab one of each- I really don't care
I just want to get the heck out of here!
The lady up front takes all my money
She gives a big smirk saying, "Thank ya, honey!"
Finally I'm free from the grocery store
I drive away, done with my chore
I get home and start unloading the car
The kids knock me over for an ice cream bar
They will no longer hunger nor will they fade away
Momma's brought home the goodies- they're happy for the day.
The End!
Carolee Sperry
December 2, 2009
Friday, October 30, 2009
My first published piece!
Originally printed in Syracuse Family Times September 2004
The Perfect Mate
Discovering the secret to a great socks life
I loathe people that have sparkling white socks. They wear perfect mates, always suited to each other. These people are playing the rest of us for fools.
I was matching socks one day when it struck me that, as the days go by, socks look less and less alike. At the start of a new school year, I buy each of the children 12 pairs of socks, all exactly alike. If they lose one, they can mix and match.
The 15-year-old has plain white tube socks. The 14-year-old boy likes socks that barely come to the ankle, with gray on the heel and toes. The 13-year-old boy prefers socks that come up to the ankle, also with the gray heel-toe combo. My daughter gets plain white ankle socks plus a package of colored socks.
About a month later, when we can afford it again, they each get another 12 pair. With 24 pair of identical socks, they should have socks available for months to come. Not in this house.
The boys like to save time by washing their whites and colors together. Depending on what else is in the load, they may end up with gray, blue, pink or red socks. If a sock gets a pink tinge, and it’s mate gets a gray tinge because it was fooling around in a different load, well, that doesn’t make for successful mating.
The 14-year-old used to wear his socks to bed. He would wake up in the morning wearing only one sock. He didn’t seem to realize it. Eventually, he would venture outside for something, wearing that one sock (and no shoes of course). This sock would get filthy.
It’s mate, however, relaxed under the bed for a few months retaining it’s glistening beauty. It now no longer matches any of the other socks in the household.
Spring comes, and with it, mowing the grass. My honey makes a stunning discovery. Over the winter it had snowed socks. Three of them were found, in various stages of filth and decay.
We recovered several more socks from behind the old dryer. They were full of dust and lint and barely recognizable.
Five more socks were found hiding out in my car. They, too, were beyond cleaning. Who in their right mind removes their socks in the car? They may have been barely recognizable, but they were too small to be mine!
We have a basketful of old socks; I can’t bare to part with them. What if I find a sock lurking in the shadows that has the same shade f pink-red as the one in the basket? A perfect match.
What about that gray thing in there? I swear I saw the mate somewhere. Honestly, we haven’t found a perfect match out of that basket in months.
I used to baby-sit for two children who always wore matching, snow-white socks. These kids were at my house all day, playing in the sandbox, jumping on the trampoline, and playing baseball in their socks. When they left here, their socks rivaled my kids’ for sleaziness.
Each morning, they would arrive with their pearly white socks adorning their feet. I asked their mother how she kept them so clean. She rattled off some name-brand detergent.
I tried it. Really, I did. I scrubbed them with an old toothbrush. I soaked them overnight in the detergent. You would think that after hanging out together for more than 12 hours, one of those socks would have found the perfect mate. Out of 28 socks, when they exited the dryer, no two looked the same.
The mother had lied. What an awful example to her children. I believe she is what I call a “habitual sock-buyer,” and she’s trying to cover her tracks.
I can see it now, Friday nights, she tears apart sock drawers, furiously throwing away any and all foot coverings that show signs of previous wear. Then she whisks the kids off to the mall to purchase new socks.
When she gets home, she carefully inserts the socks into individual Baggies, one pair for each day of the week. Exhausted after a long night of sock buying, she falls into a slumber and dreams of mountains of white socks glistening in the sun.
It seems like a lot of work to me, but so is searching for socks day after day, searching for that perfect mate, which has strayed elsewhere. I think I’ll gather up that basket of old socks, toss it in the trash and become a habitual sock-buyer. That way, I will finally look like a Super Mom and my socks will always have the perfect mate.
The End!
...more to come. Unfortunately, all my articles were once available online, but now they aren't, so I have to retype them. YUK!
The Perfect Mate
Discovering the secret to a great socks life
I loathe people that have sparkling white socks. They wear perfect mates, always suited to each other. These people are playing the rest of us for fools.
I was matching socks one day when it struck me that, as the days go by, socks look less and less alike. At the start of a new school year, I buy each of the children 12 pairs of socks, all exactly alike. If they lose one, they can mix and match.
The 15-year-old has plain white tube socks. The 14-year-old boy likes socks that barely come to the ankle, with gray on the heel and toes. The 13-year-old boy prefers socks that come up to the ankle, also with the gray heel-toe combo. My daughter gets plain white ankle socks plus a package of colored socks.
About a month later, when we can afford it again, they each get another 12 pair. With 24 pair of identical socks, they should have socks available for months to come. Not in this house.
The boys like to save time by washing their whites and colors together. Depending on what else is in the load, they may end up with gray, blue, pink or red socks. If a sock gets a pink tinge, and it’s mate gets a gray tinge because it was fooling around in a different load, well, that doesn’t make for successful mating.
The 14-year-old used to wear his socks to bed. He would wake up in the morning wearing only one sock. He didn’t seem to realize it. Eventually, he would venture outside for something, wearing that one sock (and no shoes of course). This sock would get filthy.
It’s mate, however, relaxed under the bed for a few months retaining it’s glistening beauty. It now no longer matches any of the other socks in the household.
Spring comes, and with it, mowing the grass. My honey makes a stunning discovery. Over the winter it had snowed socks. Three of them were found, in various stages of filth and decay.
We recovered several more socks from behind the old dryer. They were full of dust and lint and barely recognizable.
Five more socks were found hiding out in my car. They, too, were beyond cleaning. Who in their right mind removes their socks in the car? They may have been barely recognizable, but they were too small to be mine!
We have a basketful of old socks; I can’t bare to part with them. What if I find a sock lurking in the shadows that has the same shade f pink-red as the one in the basket? A perfect match.
What about that gray thing in there? I swear I saw the mate somewhere. Honestly, we haven’t found a perfect match out of that basket in months.
I used to baby-sit for two children who always wore matching, snow-white socks. These kids were at my house all day, playing in the sandbox, jumping on the trampoline, and playing baseball in their socks. When they left here, their socks rivaled my kids’ for sleaziness.
Each morning, they would arrive with their pearly white socks adorning their feet. I asked their mother how she kept them so clean. She rattled off some name-brand detergent.
I tried it. Really, I did. I scrubbed them with an old toothbrush. I soaked them overnight in the detergent. You would think that after hanging out together for more than 12 hours, one of those socks would have found the perfect mate. Out of 28 socks, when they exited the dryer, no two looked the same.
The mother had lied. What an awful example to her children. I believe she is what I call a “habitual sock-buyer,” and she’s trying to cover her tracks.
I can see it now, Friday nights, she tears apart sock drawers, furiously throwing away any and all foot coverings that show signs of previous wear. Then she whisks the kids off to the mall to purchase new socks.
When she gets home, she carefully inserts the socks into individual Baggies, one pair for each day of the week. Exhausted after a long night of sock buying, she falls into a slumber and dreams of mountains of white socks glistening in the sun.
It seems like a lot of work to me, but so is searching for socks day after day, searching for that perfect mate, which has strayed elsewhere. I think I’ll gather up that basket of old socks, toss it in the trash and become a habitual sock-buyer. That way, I will finally look like a Super Mom and my socks will always have the perfect mate.
The End!
...more to come. Unfortunately, all my articles were once available online, but now they aren't, so I have to retype them. YUK!
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