notinKansasanymore

Glad to hear that the surgery went well. Good to see you. love, niKa

Nope, no television at the Nikapad yet, but we had a sweet Fellowshipper there last night; he stayed up talking with Mr. niKa into the wee hours (which for me is anything past 9:15). Prayers for the LittleFellowshipper; I hope that all went well this morning. Yes, I am torn betwixt two teams; having students that I know and love on the one team, and being five generations from the nation of origin for the other team. To tell you the truth, if Texas is playing anyone but Oklahoma, I want them to win BIG. But I want my sweetie-pie students to kick some serious Beevo. It was not always this way; in the pre-Stoops years, I was ambivalent. Stoops, on the other hand, only lets good guys on (or stay on) the team, so it's hard not to wish them well. In the Switzer era, the football boys were always getting arrested and re-arrested for one thing or another. Stoops just boots 'em, and says if we can't win without them, then we just won't win. I like that in a coach.

Good luck with that sweet child, Fellowshipper. If it's in OKC, call me if you'd like to crash at the niKa-pad.

TommieTooHighWinds and IgotBottledWater: Good luck with the hurricane thing; it must be getting rather old. I hope that your lands and your cattle, and all of your wives, are fine and dandy. Guess what I had for lunch today; it was on sale for Passover at my local grocer's, recently. Borscht. My little girl tasted some, and made a face. My little boy wouldn't even touch it. My husband made fun of it. Oh, the things that I do for the Lord. -->

Yup, I can remember strolling the streets of the French Quarter with one of my Brethren, during that Word in Business conference; I still remember that the floor-to-ceiling drapes (not fahr-engine red, though, kind of taupe) in my hotel room had these little bitty dark squiggles as the design, with one end fatter than the other, and it was only AFTER my walk through the Quarter that I realized the incredible likeness of the drapery design to a floor-to-ceiling sea of SPERM, and remarked upon this likeness to my roommate, whereupon she and I both said, in unison as though in a choral speaking situation, "EEE-EUUUUUWWWWWW!" Hmmm. What is it about walking down a few streets that would make a young girl's mind turn to spermatazoa, I ask you? :)-->

Hey. Some of you guys know a bit about my Daddy, who died a year ago. I've shared here, before, about how he was saved in a WW2 battle by his best good buddy, who'd been killed in action the day before, appearing and showing him where to find enough ammunition for his patrol to hold off the Japanese, and survive. Here's something from today, but the story actually starts more than a year ago. I thought that since I haven't had much time to share hardly anything with youse guys since we started getting ready to move, you might not mind me bending your ear for a minute. The last time that I saw Daddy, he gave me an old watch. It was just a beat-up thing, that he'd found at the flea market, that didn't work. He thought that he could do something with it, which was so like him, and so he talked them down from fifty cents, and took it home for a quarter and two sticks of gum. He fixed the watch, but then couldn't get any of the kids or grandkids to take it, because the brown leather band was old and kind of cracked. I thought that I could do something with it, and thanked him, and took it home, mostly just to make him happy. The next time that I was in Walmart, I bought some thick black elastic thread, and a couple of packages of assorted, exotic-looking blue glass beads. I strung the beads on three strands of the thread, and made a funky blue watchband for the watch, and wore it to teach. I loved it, and told my classes the story of the watch. I called Daddy, and told him about the watchband, and wearing the watch to teach, and he was tickled about that. The next week, Daddy passed away, very suddenly. By the time I got there, he was in surgery, and he died on the table. A couple of weeks after Daddy died, I was a little later than usual getting in to work, and couldn't find a parking spot in my normal little parking lot, which is right next to my building. I had to park about a hundred yards away, in a huge lot. As I was rushing to get to class, and putting on my backpack, the strap of the backpack caught on one of the strings of that blue watchband, and beads went everywhere. Since I had to teach five minutes later, I gathered up what I could, and hurried to class. That was in October of last year. This morning, I didn't have to teach, so I wasn't in any hurry to get into the office. I arrived after the little lot was filled with cars, and had to go to the back of the big lot to find a space. As I walked across the lot, I was thinking about the fact that Daddy was buried a year ago tomorrow. Something on the ground , right in my path, caught my eye. It was blue glass, and round. Unbelieveably, it was one of the beads from the watchband, that I'd lost on that hurried day, almost a year ago. This said to me that Daddy was trying to say "I am here, watching over you." I just thought that it was a cool thing to have happen this morning. That's all I have to say about that. Love, niKa

Hey, everybody. Haven't been by much, but wish you all the best. Still moving; it's the project that never ends. Been in the new house for three weeks; still haven't got the old house ready for the "for sale by owner" sign. Love not having a television at the new house; peacefulness and quality time with the children reign supreme. Sad to hear of Joyce Carr's passing. Exie, sad to hear of the death in your family. Sept. 11/12 is the one year anniversary of my Dad's passing. Been a heck of a year. You guys are the best. I raise my coffee cup to you!

200 pages. Now, that's Corps.

Well, we only have one shot at this "life" thing, so I suppose that we have to be happy while we're in this brief mortal coil. I think that Frances looks great. But mostly, I think that Frances looks happy and peaceful, and full of life. You go, girl!

FellowFather, teenagers are just crazy; that's what we were like, too. At least yours will probably not run off and join a cult. When they're a little older, they'll think that you're a little wiser. Then, they'll listen to you more. They might even feel a little guilty that they put you through this, but don't hold your breath about that one. It's just one of the joys of parenthood that we have to take what we dished out when we were young. We have been between two houses for the past three days; two words: shelf paper. We didn't take the T.V. over yet, and it will live in the closet when we do. Remember that old song: "Blow up your T.V. throw away your paper Go to the country, build you a home Plant a little garden, eat a lot of peaches Try and find Jesus on your own." That's kind of the idea. My husband even came home from the farmer's market with a big bag of Stratford peaches on Saturday, for a joke. This is the weirdest thing I've done since joining a cult. But soon, we should have everything paid off, be completely debt-free, and know our children better. I'm glad that we're not too chicken to try it, at our age. Littler house, bigger yard, bigger garden, earlier retirement. Less stuff. Same cats.

Could you please Claritin that for me? I don't understand. :)-->

and their firstborn shall be called Ozzie, and their second born shall be called Harriet, and That's What I Like About the South. Oooooooohhhhhhhhhhmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.

That singer's first name could also be in Palindromes for $200, Alex.

Well, we were discussing gardens, trucks, friends, etc. You added the "sing," for some zing. That's Corps.

Well, Fellowblesser, you can always stop by the new place later, to sit in the back yard with us. If you wait a week or so, the garden may already be dug and planted with Fall crops. Seeds are on top of the frig as we speak. Different yard; same garden chair with your name on it.

Do you mean to tell me, young man, that you were right here in mah own metro-area with that great big pick-up truck, and did not stop by to bless your people? Oh, well, it wasn't moving day, anyway. But you might have enjoyed running the new rototiller. Maybe the painters would've let you put some whitewash on the house, if'n you'd have paid them a quarter. There was also all of that tree-trimmin' that went on here-abouts . . . Come to think of it, if'n I didn't live here, I'd keep mah distance, too. But the next time you drive by, you might not recognize the place. love, niKa

Fellowtraveller: Home from Where? I'm travelling vicariously through you. Everybody: Let's STRING something! And then, let's sit around and eat three-day-old POPCORN together!

The renters leave the other house today. We just have to go over and patch, paint, and steamclean the carpets. As John Wayne would say, it's gettin' down to the ratkillin'. TommyTooYoung, are you really thinking about having another? You go, guy. That four-year-old needs somebody to dote on.

Fellowfather, having met your children, I can say that you are really doing an incredible job with them. They are courteous, sweet, smart, and (insert lots of great words), and really cute, too! If all of mine behaved that well, I'd sacrifice a cow, or something.

Hey, Ex! You're going to have ten thousand posts in just a little bit. Should we have a party? love, niKa

Heck, as rather a conservative young lady from Texas, maybe I just didn't go out in the rain as much as Simon-he-hath-his-quiverfull. I also married pretty late! In some ways, it's kind of like I'm having my own grandchildren. I appreciate them a lot, and enjoy them tremendously, but running after them gives me, shall we say, aerobic points? I have Ibuprofen, and I'm not afraid to use it! I was also the oldest Mom in the audience for the first grade program . . .. We're planning our retirement to coincide with the graduation of the youngest from high school (starts Kindergarten this month). When they go off to college, we're going off to hike the Adirondacks, or wherever. Emphasis on "hiking," and also on "wherever."

Hey, that reminds me of something I've been wanting to ask. My natural children are 5 and 7. Does that make me the female 9th Corps person with the youngest children, or was there somebody out there crazy enough to have kids when they were even older than that? Just wondering . . .

Bliss . . . Also Known As seventh heaven? Well, I suppose that if you are with the right girl at the right time, she might take you to seventh heaven . . . In your case, the right girl has as Aussie accent, and Seventh Heaven is on the other side of the world . . . Croiky, Fellowblisser, you've got all your ducks in a row, mate. Now, my daughter wants to put some smiley faces on this. :)--> :D--> --> :(--> ;)--> :o--> :P--> :)-->

I took the farmer a long funnel; he can put food and water into the bowls without opening the cage. I took him two litterboxes; he only has to take one out, and put the other in, quickly, every few days. We'll just hope for the best. If he brings his dog in with him when he changes the boxes, the cats will likely just hide in their bed during that moment, anyway. Tuttlemeister: it was her loss, dude! You're one cool cat. Happy Saturday Morning, everybody!

Good question, Tommy Strangelove. It's the Present Truth on how to acclimatize feral cats to a new location. You have to get them used to the sounds, smells, etc., and most particularly, they must be used to getting their food in that location. Otherwise, they'd rocket out of the barn as soon as they were released, dissapear into the woods, and become coyote snacks. This way, the farmer goes in to talk to them two or three times a day, and by the end of three or four weeks, they're letting him pet them through the cage. When they are released, they're used to the sight of the chickens and the farm dogs. The barn has become home base, and they stick around. Actually, I had no idea how to do this, but we looked it up on the internet. :)-->