Exhaustibated!

I'm A Senior....You're A Senior....Everyone's A Senior...

Well....almost everyone's a senior.

And what does that have to do with anything?

Because the above word applies to us, and to them and to all who are seniors.  Here a senior, there a senior, everywhere a senior.  Look high and look low, you will see a senior.  Sitting on their butt, resting their legs, or just enjoying the sunshine on a sunny day.  Or maybe sitting in one of those artsy coffeehouses sipping on a java and maybe eating a nice sweet roll or a piece of pie.

What you might ask does this have to do with anything?

Well it does, because my new word really describes the senior "crowd" which we seem to be a part of.  According to the AARP, once you get to that magic number of age 50, you are a senior.  That puts a lot of us in the mix.  AARP is describing us as old at age 50.  So how do they describe us at age 60, or age 70 or age 80....."over the hill and through the woods" I suppose.

I personally think we should be called the "Exhaustibated Crowd"....not the "seniors" of the world....and definitely not the "oldies".  "Exhausitabated Crowd" just sounds so sophisticated...much more so than those other negative terms usually applied to the over 50 crowd.

Let's get down to business and use "Exhausitbated" for all of us seniors.  After all it  truly describes many of us....ME ME ME ..... and if you don't know the meaning of my new word.....(drum roll please))))))))

It means "Just too tired to give a crap".  Ain't it so!

Old Pictures

Picture of Cramers.  I would guess it was early 1960's or late 1950's.

Note the sign has A-C for Allis Chalmers.

This is the building where Mel Lockwood later had store which burned.

 

 

 

Tripp Lumber Yard on the south side

of the square.  Early 1960's.  The buildings where the lumber was stored are to the left.  And clear to the left is the little

red shingled house where Frank Bless lived, with the Presbyterian church in the far left distance.

 

As I go through life, I find that many words and phrases just turn me off.  I hear this stuff and think "where the heck did that come from".

I know I've mentioned this before.  But some of these really bug me.

For instance one phrase I hear all the time is "hand prepared".  I see this on restaurant menus.  If you really think about it, I question whether there are other ways the menu item could be prepared ... like "foot-prepared" or perhaps "prepared by R2D2 the Robot"?

Another of those ugly set of words (in my estimation) is deal breaker.  What is a deal breaker?  Does it mean a deal which is going to financially ruin you?  I think it always has something to do with a negotiated something or other, but if the deal isn't taken, what happens?  Will the sky fall?  And if the deal is taken, will the person win a prize? And what about the phrase "a little pregnant".  What is a little pregnant.  You are either pregnant or not pregnant. 

But the best one I've heard lately is "let me hold that for a minute" and used when two persons are having a conversation without even having anything in their hands to hold!!!  So I guess you are asking the other person permission to let you hold something which is invisible.  And if the other person doesn't grant permission, is the second person who wants to hold the "whatever" for a minute, stealing?    Geeze! Perhaps you can see why I am confused with these terribly strange phrases which are subject to all kinds of interpretation.   And, I don't think I'm going to find answers to all of my questions and thoughts on this subject.  So I guess I will just go on frowning when I hear the dreaded phrases because I really don't know what the person doing the talking means.   And that person probably doesn't either.  Aghhhh!

Thanks for coming to my blog.

 

Tis the season to be thankful.

I am.

Thankful for my family and thankful

for my friends and thankful

for my readers.

 

Blessings to all.

 

Have a good holiday.

What You Sayin' Bud?

So many things from my past creep up on me.  It gets to be "I remember that".... or  "My (whomever it was) said that".

Some words and phrases I remember were vintage sayings.  Some were slang of the time.  One term I loved as a kid was "skedaddle" and another was "scalawag".

I remember when a bum or a bummer was a hobo who was probably drunk on his hind end.  Now it means something totally different.  I remember Groucho Marx and the funny things he said....like when he said....I don't care to be a member of a club that accepts members like me.  How funny is that....he was a true man of the times, with a "funny" to respond to any conversation.

"Discombobulate" is another funny word I remember from the past.  I think it means a person feels like he/she is a million pieces floating in space and very confused. 

Who could forget when the Sound of Music brought forth the ever popular word "supercalifragilisticexpialidocious".  One of the best words ever.  Hard to spell but easy to say and cool besides.  Just the "bees knees"!

I love the phrases which have a meaning you have to think about.  Like this one:  "I'm a secondhand vegetarian.  Cows eat grass, I eat cows". 

If I didn't think about remembering the old times a lot, I would be "scobberlotching" .... probably gotcha on that one.

Oh well.   I think I will go mall watching and see how many I can see who "got hit by the ugly stick".  Of course I will "fly by the seat of my pants".  I might be "in the hot seat" though if I say something to someone about "being ugly as an eight day clock".  They will probably tell me to "shutyaface" and then I'll be "hotfootin it" back home before they "beat me to a pulp".  Lots of those ugly folks "think they are the cat's whiskers" that's for sure.

So sit back and think about your past and words and phrases you heard.  And don't forget about those funny tongue twisters we used to say when we were young.  My most favorite was " if you must cross a course cross cow across a crowded cow crossing, cross the course cross cow across the crowded cow crossing carefully".

blahht blahht...my tongue is tied now.


Old...Old...Old...Old...Old


I'm trying to find out more about old Sarah Jeffries who lived in the jungle tangled undergrowth up by the elevator....one block east.   I think she lived with her brother William Neeley before living alone.   Many of us knew her as the hermit.  Let me know if you know anything about her. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

History of the Gas Station East Side of Road

 

The following is what  I've been able to establish.  Can't guarantee it's right but it's close.

 

1.  Built in 1953, Oanafo (sp) Lowe.  Standard although someone said it was Texaco.  Is in the 1960 yearbook as Lowe's Standard.

 

2.  1957 Goat Taylor ran it as a Standard.  Not sure if he got it from Lowes and then it went back to Lowes.

 

3.  Reggie Harbin was next.  Was in the 1965 yearbook as the operator.

 

4.  Ed Hanson was next but not much is known about him.  He was killed by the AMVETS in a wreck while driving a 1967 GTO.

 

5.  Ed Backs but unknown dates although I remember him having the station when I was driving in 1966 or 1967.

 

6.  Glenn Tuttle.  Unknown date of opening.  Still owns the site but it doesn't have a gas station - is now a repair service and car sales (Tony Tuttle, son).

 

If you know any other information which disputes or adds to this, let me know.

 

Quote For The Day

No man knows how bad he is till he has tried

very hard to be good.

--C. S. Lewis

 

 

Time to get ready for Thanksgiving.  This year, and every year and every day,  I am thankful to be alive.  Next comes the thankfulness to be able to write this blog.  And finally, thankful for having readers who faithfully come to the blog to see if a new post is posted.  Thank you for that.  Without having you, the readers, there would be no need to continue.

 

May your preparations for Thanksgiving in the coming days be full of excitement and happy anticipation that you will be among family.   I will be having the Thanksgiving dinner this year...the first in a long time, but due to my daughter's surgery a few months ago and her inability to fully recover, I'm taking a turn cooking for my family.  

 

 I hope that I will be able to post at least one more post before Thanksgiving, but if not ~~~ Happy Thanksgiving.

 

 

 

 

Thanks for coming to my blog.

All rights reserved on all blog content.

 

Spatchcocked Turkey?????

What in the heck is a spatchcocked turkey?

Is that a turkey which has been spatched?  If so, what is spatched?  Does that mean the turkey has been smacked around and left for dead?  Or, does it mean that a hamburger spatula has been used to beat the poor thing?   Or, does it mean that a turkey went out and got drunk and was wandering drunkenly down the road and got spatched when a car didn't see the turkey and tenderized the bird beyond recognition.  Spatched huh?

After all, I've seen drunken chickens before.  I must admit the drunken chickens I saw were cooked with a beer can up their old hiney.  But, I've never seen a drunken turkey, and I think to get a drunken turkey, you would need to put a whole six pack of beer up that old turkey's hiney.

Now I'm sure if I analyze this word spatchcocked, I will be able to figure it out.  I looked up the word spatch and found it's a game according to the urban dictionary.  Oh, ok, so it means a game turkey that _____?______ .  Now, taking the second word cocked,  we all know what cocked means....so if I put the two meanings together, I still don't know what a spatchedcocked turkey is.  Cripes.  Someone is coining big and grossly weird words for the dictionary. 

Back to google.  Yep there it is.  It didn't give me a true meaning, but if you take the backbone out of the turkey, push the rest of the turkey down by the breast bone on a flat baking sheet with a rim, and bake it till done, you suddenly have a spatchedcocked turkey.  Rub that sucker with olive oil and put on bit of salt and pepper and supposedly, this is the best turkey and one which cooks super fast. 

Ok ok....now the question is how the heck do you take the backbone out without totally butchering the turkey...it didn't tell me how to do that.  And, I really wonder how the heck you can spatchcock a 21 pound turkey, push the sucker down by the breast bone and get the whole thing on one baking sheet with a rim?  Am I supposed to use a large piece of tin from the barn roof to get something big enough???  I don't have a baking sheet that will hold the turkey, let alone fit in my oven. 

So ..... what a dilemma.  I want a spatchcocked turkey, and don't know how to do it and can't fit it in the oven to cook it.  And, I sure don't want to have a drunken turkey and waste a whole six pack of beer.  This delimma means that we will have a plain old huge 21 pound turkey, cooked in it's own juices. 

But I know that when I get the big bird ready to cook,  I'm going to put popcorn in his cavity, pop him in the oven and listen for the popcorn popping.  When the big old turkey's butt blows up and blows the oven door off and then flies across the room, I'll know he's done.


Something Old and Something New

 

This doll is from the 1950's.  These are called ponytail dolls

and were available at dimestores all over the nation.  They were made in japan and all had reddish hair in a ponytail, except for the ones which were sold with a brother, and he had only a hat on and no ponytail.  This particular one is a mechanical one which you could wind up and it would dance.  I own the above doll and love it.  In fact I own many ponytail dolls.  I used to go to Woolworth's in Springfield, and while my dad was having a piece of pie, I was buying ponytail dolls with the money he gave me to go spend. 

 

 

 

 

The doll on the right is one from my childhood....a Saucy Walker,  from 1956.  She's wearing a new coat which I made for her a few years ago.  The doll on the right is a fairly new doll.  As you can see, the quality of the older doll was much higher quality than that of today's doll.  Sure there are current day dolls which are of high quality, but they cost a ton of money and a child can't play with them.  Most Saucy Walker dolls had some rough play and still look good today.

 

 

 

 

Greenview residents will most likely remember the Greenview Review office on the north side of the square.  It was owned by Jack and Willie Ruth Luscher.  In this picture is their daughter Kathy when she was pretty young.  Note the Arlee Theater sign in the window.

 

 

 

Going south out of Greenview.  Taken when the highway had not been built.  Note the big stone Wernsing mansion on the right.

 

 

 

Quote For The Day

The best advice is this:

Don't take advice and don't give advice.

--Author Unknown

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Thank you for coming to my blog.

 

 

Peace and Freedom

Because of our Veterans.

Thank you my friends and relatives who served.

Popeye's Best Friend - Spinach

Popeye The Sailorman, He Lives In A Garbage Can

That Popeye sure is a cool dude.  "I am who I am and that's all that I am."  Yep, me too.

Spinach always helped Popeye.  He'd pop out that can of spinach from someone around his armpit   ~~~ ewww ~~~ then pop the lid off, tilt back his head and gobblegegook that spinach in one gulp.   Now .... I think that if old Popeye can do that, so can I.  I love spinach, although I prefer mine raw, with a nice warm bacon dressing on a salad plate.  But the canned stuff will do if it makes me strong and able to get things done.  Like smack the crap outta someone or clean the whole house in one day.

So....today I'm going to start my Popeye campaign.  Gonna eat spinach for every meal.  If I'm going to do that, I will probably have some weird looking body waste but as long as it's the spinach, all will be well.

By this time next week, I should be strong as heck.  I should also have big muscles popping up in both arms and best of all, I will be able to do anything.

After all, I believe in the old saying.....give someone spinach, and that person can lift the world with one hand.  Amen.

Old Things Around The Area

 

T. J. Raikes, 1930 Menard County Sheriff campaign ad.

Was elected in 1934 as sheriff.

 

 

 

 

 

Thomas Jackson Raikes, the county sheriff.  Was a farmer near Greenview.  Was elected in 1934 and served a full term, then after elected for a second term, shortly after he died of a heart attack.

 

 

 

Thomas and Martha (Belton) Raikes, Sheriff Menard County.  He has his badge on and his holster and gun on his shoulder.

 

 

Robert Gilmer on the left 1913.  He lived in Irish Grove.  In his will, he bequeathed his library to the Irish Grove Presbyterian church and $500 to the Greenview Presbyterian church on the condition that the church be built within 2 years from the date of the will or the money reverted back to his estate.  His estate consisted of about $4,000 in personal property and 300 to 400 acres of land.  He had also left the General Presbyterian Mission and Board most of his estate.  His uncle filed suit to be the only heir and lost the law suit.

 

 

 

 

Quote For The Day

Be not angry that you cannot make others

as you wish them to be,

since you cannot make yourself as you wish to be.

--Thomas a Kempis

 

 

 

 

Do you use the LOL in your internet communications?  Why do we use this....I thought everyone was supposed to use ROFLMBO....so why did someone come up with LOL. 

 

I know it's supposed to mean Laughing out Loud, but everyone always uses it at the end of their communication so to me it means....."I don't have anything else to say so I'm putting LOL to end this conversation".

 

The end.....LOL

 



 

 

Ok you turkeys....Turkey Day

is coming soon.

 

The following link is my contribution to

your good day.

http://images.businessweek.com/ss/05/11/egreetings/image/01.swf

 

 

 

Thanks for coming to my blog.

Have a good day

All rights reserved

Kumbaya

Kumbaya...do you remember that word?

Of course I remember singing the old song.  We sang it quietly and spiritually.  And I was always told it meant "come by here".  And when we sang it like this: "kumbaya my Lord ",  it asked the Lord to come by and stand beside us.  It was in our girl scout book and was sung around the campfire.

This song was an old African-American song to depict spiritual closeness to the Lord.

But, now it seems to mean something a little different.  The urban social clickers are using it in a way to mean coming together peacefully.  Sure it's close but when it's used on twitter and other social networks it's not being used in the same spiritual way as it was originally meant.  Kumbaya has been robbed!

At times, we all need to call upon the Lord for a bit of spiritual renewal and it sure wouldn't hurt to quietly sing the song of old or at least hum it beneath your breath.  Spiritual guidance or renewal can do a soul so much good.

If you see Kumbaya used on Twitter or another social network and not being sung for spiritual renewal or closeness, think about how glad you are that you were raised during the baby boomer time when everyone knew this song and sung it the way it should be sung.  Quietly, with a bit of a plea to the Lord for a bit of help....

Kum bay ya, my Lord, kum bay ya;
Kum bay ya, my Lord, kum bay ya;
Kum bay ya, my Lord, kum bay ya,
O Lord, kum bay ya.

Someone's laughing, my Lord, kum bay ya;
Someone's laughing, my Lord, kum bay ya;
Someone's laughing, my Lord, kum bay ya,
O Lord, kum bay ya.

Someone's crying, my Lord, kum bay ya;
Someone's crying, my Lord, kum bay ya;
Someone's crying, my Lord, kum bay ya,
O Lord, kum bay ya.

Someone's praying, Lord, kum bay ya;
Someone's praying, Lord, kum bay ya;
Someone's praying, Lord, kum bay ya,
O Lord, kum bay ya.

Someone's singing, my Lord, kum bay ya;
Someone's singing, my Lord, kum bay ya;
Someone's singing, my Lord, kum bay ya,
O Lord, kum bay ya.

Don't think I need to say more.......


New Acquisition

I recently was able to purchase a 1950's matchbook straight from Smitty's tavern.  It's in very good shape, is foil colored and hard to photograph so my picture is not so good.  I was so glad to find this.  Hope you enjoy this picture!!!   (I hope you will be able to click on it to get an enlarged view - most photos you can, but some don't enlarge)

I remember going into Smitty's with my dad.   It was owned by Luther Schmidt and his very nice wife Mildred.  Mildred was a very thin lady who was very quiet but so friendly.   The tavern always smelled like beer.  As a kid,  I always wondered if they scrubbed the floor with beer in the mop bucket.  Most of the time the front would have 4 or 5 men sitting on the stools.  But the back part remained dark and dank.  But if I remember right, there were bar stools back there too.  I hated to have to walk back there to go to the restroom.  There was a piece of wood lattice with a doorway which kind of separated the two parts of the tavern.  I would creep up to that and scan the back to make sure no boogie men were hiding there in the dark. 

I'm not sure but I seem to remember a shuffle board in this tavern, but I could be wrong.  It's been many years.  Then I remember  Paul Kincaid taking over the business but, I remember my dad telling me that Smitty's wife still owned the building.

Then came the day in 1963, on May 2, while I was at the high school auditioning for a high school cheerleader position, a fire broke out in the locker plant next door, and to the south of Smitty's old place (now Paul Kincaid's).  Mr. Arnold Berg, the local welder was dismantling the locker's freezing units when fire erupted.  This fire resulted in a huge fire, burning the old Propst Opera House which housed K & K Market ( the old skating rink upstairs) and the locker plant and Smitty's/Kincaid's tavern and apartments upstairs.  The Opera House was built in 1910.  Firemen from Greenview, Middletown, Athens, and Mason City worked hard just to save the remaining buildings in town.  My sister had a movie camera and filmed a very very short segment of the fire.  She had that converted to a VHS tape and I still have that.  I really need to get that converted to a DVD and will do that soon. 

Fond memories of Smitty's tavern will always remain with me.  I particularly liked the days when it was so hot outside and my dad needed a cold beer to cool off his insides.  It was always many degrees cooler in Smitty's than it was outside.  How refreshing and I could even ignore the rather dank smells as long as I got a cold bottle of coke to hold in my hot and sweating hands. 

Those were the days.  Gone but not forgotten.


Quote For The Day

The memories of men are too frail a thread

to hang history from.

 

--John Still 

 

Costume party that's called the Small Town Trash Party....not here....but somewhere near.  I want to go as the trailer park humor queen.  But not sure if I have enough cars up on blocks in the yard to go as that queen of bling.

 

At these adult costume trash parties, I find it best to go trashy like the name of the party.  The more trashier the better.  Wear bright red lipstick (no one wears that red colored crap any longer) and be sure to paint rouge (no one even remembers what rouge is these days).  And, spike high heels and hope the heck I don't fall off my spikes.

 

Oh and the hair has to be teased into a bee hive which stands about 8 inches tall and sprayed until "the hive" won't move even if you stood in front of a hurricane.  And, of course, there's need for a proper tattoo on an arm and on the peaking power of the bosoms.  Just a small rose will do....and yes, if you don't want to go out and get a real one, you can use a fake one...or even get out the "sharpie" pen and draw one on.

 

If you're going to the Trashy Costume party, you have to take a potluck dish.  How about Spam bites.  Or maybe carp nuggets, fried crisply and don't forget to score the bones.  I bet no one would think to bring this town's favorite, french fried Rocky Mountain Oysters.  The men in this town always loved these, but now most wouldn't even know what the heck these are.  And finally another potluck dish suggestion is to take a bottle of Boones Farm, Strawberry Hill (or maybe two bottles) and a stack of paper cups.  A true trash party addition to a fine evening.

 

Hope you can make the costume party..... Coming to a location near you.  Come as you are, no one will even care!  See you soon!

 

 





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Happy Halloween!

 

 

 

 

All rights reserved.

 



Is it Dessert or Desert?

Dessert....Desert....Dessert....Desert...Dessert

One of these is exercising your elbow frequently by lifting your spoon to your mouth and putting a bite of some frilly, high calorie and fattening food in your mouth (and gaining weight of course).

The other is somewhere out in the sand, where it's unbearably hot (kind of like Illinois has been lately), where the cactus grow higher than a house and have prickly thorns the size of a pencil and also a place where rattlers roam like deer on the plains.  And these dang rattlers are so big, they could swallow a person whole...that is if rattlers really ate people instead of just biting them with their horrible venomous fangs.

Ok...now that I have described the above two words (ie:  Dessert/Desert), I'm still at a loss as to which is which.  Does anyone else have this problem?  I think these two words are the only two which really give me problems. 

Due to this I have to come up with a way to remember which is which.  Kind of like several of my grade school teachers came up with ideas on how to remember things and how to remember how to spell words (ie A R(rat) I (in) T (the) H (house) M (might) E (eat) T (the) I (ice) C (cream).....arithmetic.  Or maybe how to remember the nine (at the time) planets.....My Very Eager Mother Just Served Us Nine Pickles.  How did we know that Pluto would disappear into the non-planet world.  I still would teach a person this way to remember the planets and just teach that the pickles/Pluto failed to come out of the jar so drop it when you remember the Nine minus One planets.

So back to Dessert and Desert.  I think I finally have discovered a way I can remember which is which.  I think this will work... it's maybe not too good of a way and not traditional, but what the heck .... if it works, it works.  I'm going to remember that Dessert has an extra "S".  And this is how I'm going to remember that:

Desserts have lots of sugar and sugar makes me have diarrhea which is actually sh*t.  Sh*t begins with "S" and diarrhea is extra "sh*t" just like having an extra "s" in the word Dessert.....it's something you don't really need but sometimes have to have.  So there....now I know how to remember the difference between the hot place in the sand and the sugary sweet that I love to eat and shouldn't.  It's the "s"h*t that makes the difference.


Things I Remember About Greenview 1950-1960's

Ice Cream cones at Emma's Corner Cafe and some had a slip of paper int he bottom of the cone.

The old post office had the really neat dark wood and the marble on the floor and the cool post ornate post office boxes which required a Philadelphia lawyer to get them open with the combination.

Remember it being hot in the tunnel from the old grade school to the grade school gymnasium....and scary too.

The old pool hall smelled smokey and dirty and was there a staircase by the left side of the pool hall that went to an upstairs place?

Roedemer's Department store had a lot of merchandise and you could find just about anything you needed.  Maybe not what you wanted but stuff that was necessary.

The old locker plant front entrance had an icky smell that was kind of like old spoiled meat.

I remember the old white fire department water tanker truck.

The Presbyterian Church had a sandbox for us little kids in the back room to the east of the seats (by church office).

The Presbyterian Church once had a Halloween party where the organizers made us go into these little curtained off spaces and feel the veins (spaghetti) and eye balls (peeled grapes) but I thought they were real at the time.

At Halloween, when you went to a person's house they tried to guess who you were.  And most of the time, they knew us....everyone knew everyone in town back then.

I remember the dirt floor in Les McKee's store.  But the bologna was good there.

I remember Gerald McKee blowing spit bubbles as he sat in the park each day.  I don't think he ever worked.

I remember when Johnson & Denton had hand dipped ice cream in their store.  And those cute little iron and wood tables and chairs to sit at.

I remember my mama getting a "poodle" permanent at Blanche's uptown beauty shop.

I remember my mom having a boucle material coat and my dad having a suede long jacket  (and a hat) which they wore when they went out.


Quote For The Day

I have always been regretting that

I was not as wise as the day I was born.

--Henry David Thoreau

Did you ever feel that pulling yourself out of bed in the morning is kind of like being in quicksand?

It seems to me that each day of being one day older makes it harder and harder to rise out of bed with a quickstep.

My quickstep is worn out I think, so from now on, I think I will just stay in bed. 

So if you don't see me around, don't call, don't yell, don't send me a message....I will be lying down in my bed....with a worn out quickstep.

Thanks for coming to my blog.

(all rights reserved on blog and all content)

Hope to see you again...soon.

Never Wrestle With A Pig

Here piggy.  Come to mama!

Once a upon a time there were three little pigs.  This little pig went to market and this one stayed home.  This little pig went wee wee wee all the way home.

Piggies in the farm lot don't need a house.  They wallow in the mud and sleep in the barn.  They don't have to pay utilities unless they live in the woods and then they have to pay utilities to keep the lights on to warn off the big bad wolf.  They sure don't want him huffing and puffing to blow their house down.  Living in a house instead of the mud lot means the piggies don't get to mud wrestle.  Unless they load up their bathtub with mud and wrestle in the tub.

I've never wrestled with a pig in the mud but I did a spot of mud wrestling against a woman whom I thought was a pig.  She had a snouty nose and was pretty much of an oinker.  Lots bigger than me and due to this I lost.  I got a lot of mud in my hair and I think her snouty nose and mouth closed down on my hair and yanked out a big old hunk.  That spot hurt for a week.

I also remembering during a county fair, chasing a pig which had Mazola oil all over his back.  The idea was to be the first to catch a pig.  The ground wasn't mud but it probably would have been more fun had they watered the dirt.

Over the years I learned a few things about mud wrestling.  You can't get a foot hold in that slippery muck.  You get really dirty.  Wear goggles for sure.  Of course with mud covered goggles you can't see so you lose the contest, but at least you don't get mud in your eye.  It's worse than pie in the eye.  I also learned to never wrestle with a pig.  The pigs probably ate their much loved corn chex for breakfast so they have more strength than you do and besides that, they have a nasty bite when they see they are losing.  So stay long away from their nasty pig biting snouts.

The object to this story is to not wrestle with a pig.  He might be mad because the big bad wolf blew down his house.....and believe me if that had happened to me I'd be seeing blood....thus I know I don't want to lose any blood to a dang pig....especially a mad pig in the mud wrestling pit.

History of Greenview

From the Greenview Scrapbook - A History of Greenview Illinois 1818 - 1940

Note:  In my family, it was always passed down that Charles Mongomery once owned a lot of the land where Greenview now rests.  The following indicates my ancestor once owned land which was then purchased by Henry Marbold.

"Mr. Henry Marbold bought the land south of here which was the original claim of Charles L. Montgomery in 1850, and with his sister Miss Annie Marbold and their father, John Marbold, came there to live. John Marbold invested in farm land situated near Salt Creek bottom. H. H. Marbold, as he came to be designated, took an important part in getting the farming section settled up with reliable thrifty men, many of them from Germany, and these men and their descendants have been a decided asset to the community.



Charles L. Montgomery, having sold his first place, bought the 160 acres belonging to John Griggs in Section 23, for $760.00. The northeast quarter of Section 23 belonged to George Blane, and he and Leonard Alkire and William Engle joined forces to try to bring the railroad through here, and in order to do so, it was thought advisable to have a station, so a townsite was sought. While this project was being canvassed, the town of Sweetwater was started, in 1853. New Market, about the same distance west of here, was also working to get the road through there, and a two-story brick hotel was built at that place.

Mr. Harmon Warnsing came to this community in 1853, when fourteen years of age, with nothing but his little bundle of clothes, having spent three months in crossing the Atlantic
on a sailing ship. Most of the passengers died enroute of small- pox, but Mr. Warnsing escaped the contagion, and from the time he arrived here, he prospered. When he married he was settled on the farm now occupied by Garrett Evers, which Mr. Warnsing bought from Mr. John Marbold.

Railroad construction was being pushed enthusiastically all over the state, and meetings were held in school houses and churches where speakers explained to the people how the much- needed railroad could be financed. The response was generous, considering the scarcity of cash, and the county itself subscribed $100,000.00. To this was added the $25,000.00 from private individuals and work was started. But again funds ran low and operations were suspended for a time.

Charles L. Montgomery had built a double log house on the land purchased, and here he and his family were living when his daughter Susan was married to R. B. Godbey in 1854. This
whole family of Montgomerys was remarkable for longevity. "Aunt Susan" Godbey went to the polls and voted for the first time when she was almost 100 years old. "


Quote For The Day

You have Brains in your Head

You have Feet in your Shoes

You can Steer yourself any

Direction you Choose.

--Dr. Seuss

I was doing some research on money....which I never have enough of and found some things I didn't know.

I love the $5.00 bill since it is a nice denomination and it has a really good picture of Abraham Lincoln.  I found that on the back of the bill is the Lincoln Memorial which contains the names of 26 states according to the Federal engraving department, although some say it's 27 states since it says N & S Carolina.  The $5  bill only shows one side of the memorial so the other states aren't shown )but they are on the real memorial on the back side....48 states since that's the number of states when the memorial was dedicated.

The one thing I learned, which was really a surprise, was that on the back of the bill there are two strips from top to bottom on the left side of the back of the bill which are blank when viewed in the infrared spectrum.  This would make it impossible to counterfeit.  There are many more items on the bill which are ways to prevent counterfeit operations.

Even though the bill is a small denomination I love it.  Give me about a 100,000 of these and I would be happy!!

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Gimme Gimme Gimme

Gimme Gimme Your Stuff Now!

"Gimme"  ----- now what does that really mean?  Well of course it means "Give Me".  Everyone probably knows that!  So why do people say "Gimme"?

Perhaps the English language is just too proper for some, so they say Gimme.  Maybe some people think the term Gimme softens the sometimes hated act of asking for something.  Maybe some people like the word Gimme.....I kind of like it myself.

A thief during a hold-up would probably say "Gimme Your Money"! A kid would say "Gimme a  peanut butter sammich"!  A person who needs help might say "Could you gimme some help?"
A disgusted person might say "Don't gimme that crap."

People just use the word.  It might be an informal contraction but it's still used.  Just like the words gonna,  ain't,  gotta, kinda, wanna, whatcha, lemme...all acceptable in my repertoire of words....maybe not in yours or others but these are in mine.

My tongue wraps around that word really well.  It's like smooth butter on a piece of homemade white bread....soft, flavorful and tasty.  It kind of melts in my mouth when I say it.  Not like any proper Queen's language.  Of course I'm sure Queenie Liz has never said Gimme in her life.  She probably has never even said Give Me.....she speaks and people just fall at her feet and give her anything she wants and she doesn't even have to ask for it.  I bet old Queenie Liz just clicks and wags her tongue when she comes to the good ole USA, and thinks us American hicks are the worst abuser of the English language. 

Queenie Liz my dear, it's called the American language thank you....we don't speak your proper English, we have our own thank you and don't need yours.....it may be an offshoot of yours but don't belittle the thing we have known all of our lives.  Shoot honeychile.....us hoodlums of America are just as smart as y'all just more low key Queenie Liz!  Subjects of the Queenie, beware if you come to America....you'll have a lesson in the really proper English....good ole American English!  You may not know what we're saying for a couple of days, but you will learn.

So for now, gimme a few more minutes to allow yourself to read the rest of this crappie post.....gimme gimme gimme......hmmmmm  maybe I should say, dear readers.....Give me your attention!  See it ain't half as much fun as gimme!

An Old Time Town Resident

Many local readers will remember a resident by the name of Eugene "Jean" Huffman.  He was quite an interesting person who was handy in about everything he tried to do.

He was born February 9, 1881 and died March 1, 1976 at age 95.

In his early life Jean apprenticed in the blacksmith trade, working for the Edward Hayden blacksmith shop on Jefferson street around 1907.  Then in 1912 he embarked in business for himself.

This friendly and talented man also was a cabinetmaker and an expert violin maker and played the violin wonderfully.  I can remember going with my grandpa to take his fiddle to Jean for repair when I was a child.  Jean played a song on grandpa's fiddle and it was beautiful....and not quite like my grandpa's fiddling.

Many folks in town didn't know he was a poet but he loved to write about the everyday problems of living.  Jean wrote the following poem which will remain forever in the history of the town.

THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH

Under the wide and open sky

The village smithy stands;

No spreading chestnut tree is nigh,

No chestnuts seem to be on hand,

Except the smithy himself, who tries

With slowly timed and feeble licks,

To make a piece for that which lies

Upon the floor for him to fix.

Tho' once a mighty man, alack,

He  now is but a withered wreck 

With rheumatism in his back,

And wrinkles in his scrawny neck.

Time was, when people far and near,

Within, and all about the town,

From early morn 'til night could hear

His mighty sledge come smashing down;

But years of toil have slowed his gait;

No more he pounds the iron with ease;

And when he swings his sledge of late

They mostly hear him puff and wheeze,

The sweat that once upon his brow,

By which he earned his daily bread

Has disappeared, and slobbers now

Just dribble down his chin instead.

His battered tools are all worn out,

And scattered widely here and there

Upon the floor, and all about

His dusty shop, most everywhere.

On many jobs his fee is small.

E'en less than what his time is worth,

But friends, to him, are, after all,

Worth more than any job on earth.

His patient wife has long since learned

To skimp and save each tiny crust,

Those things for which she long has yearned,

She does without, because she must.

The holes which in his working pants

Are burned by red hot sparks of fire,

She patches when she has the chance,

To save expense on his attire.

Some items on his account,

Have been so long upon the page

He can scarce figure the amount,

So badly are they dimmed by age.

But he toils and struggles on,

No other way he knows in life;

He hopes  that when he's dead and gone

They'll get ashamed and pay his wife.

It sounds like to me that Jean wrote this about himself and his business and perhaps many people owed Jean money and he was having trouble collecting his fees. I know that from my own dad's business ventures, that collecting money from persons was an ongoing battle.  

 I remember Jean as a gentle man who kept to himself.  May his soul rest in peace and perhaps he collected some of those debts in heaven.

Quote For The Day

Charm is a way of getting the answer yes

without asking a clear question.

--Albert Camus

Sometimes I have Dear Abby moments.  And just have to blare out my rural America Dear Aunt Abby responses.

When the question arises concerning race, I'm the whitest of hues and can definitely impose my true feelings of being of the white race in my answers as Dear Aunt Abby.  A lot of the white race likes Elvis Presley songs, likes Miracle Whip on our potato salad,  likes Miss Clairol when our hair turns grey, likes to wear thongs (flip flops) even when the snow flies, don't like to wear hats except baseball caps, likes to work hard and make lots of money, likes to study hard and gain a lot of education, likes to get a deep colored sun tan ...is that so we can look like we belong in another race(???), likes high school basketball, and pumpkin pie with cool whip.

If anyone needs a Dear Aunt Abby response, feel free to ask the question.  I can only do my best when I answer.  But I bet I can do just as good as Abigail Van Buren.....who didn't even go by her real name....her real name was Pauline. With that name I can understand why she didn't use her real name..... At least I'll answer under my real name..... The Queen of Trailer Park Trash Talk!

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MONOSYLLABIC...WHAT???

Monosyllabic is not my most important word.

Long ago I learned the word "monosyllabic" and the meaning.  Before that, I could have cared less, because I didn't even know it was a word, and definitley didn't know what it meant.

Since I looked this word up in the dictionary, I know that monosyllabic words are one syllable words.  I thought it would be fun to try to find the longest monsyllabic word in our language but when I set out to do that, others had already thought of that so that took the fun out of it -- dang it.  But I still did searches and kept finding sites with different guesses as to the longest monosyllable word.

The word squirrelled is sometimes thought of as the longest word, but it has to be pronounced as one syllable and not a two  syllable word as some pronouce it.  Wow .... eleven letters is a big mouth full.  Onward to more words and then I found a few ten letter words......schmaltzed and strengthed are two examples.  But surely there are more words!!

In my search for more words, I ran across some really cool two syllable words, which are called disyllabic words.  The two I found were:  scratchedbrushed (14 letters) and breakthoughs (13 letters).

Then I found a twelve letter monosyllabic word..... "schtroumpfed".  What the heck is this word?  The French word for Smurfs is schtroumpfed....so some poets and writes started putting an "ed" on this french word and now it's considered a word which can be used in the English language and writers use it .... weird! 

Later on I found a few more monosyllabic words with ten letters.....scroonched, scraunched, schwartzed, schnappsed, and broughamed.  Funky words if you ask me....I don't use these in my everyday languge but, if I want to show off a bit, I might start using these long monosyllabic words.  People will probably think I've flipped my ever loving lid....but I do like to shock peeps.

Now I will take my new monosyllibic list and do with it whatever I feel like.  If you see me using words from this list, you will know that I'm speechless and using just anything to write about.


Greenview At Its Best
(direct quotes and text taken from the Women's Club documentation of December 3, 1818 - 1968 to celebrate the Illlinois Sesquicentennial - 150 birthday of the state)

"H. H. Marbold took an important part in getting th efarming scetion settled with reliable thrifty men, may of them from Germany.  These men and their descendants have been a decided asset to the Greenview community -- Kaiser, Deverman, Koester, Kemper, Busch, Boske, Dirks, Onken, Myers, Keest, Amerkamp, Dencker, Eggers, Hagney, Miller, Milken, Winkleman, Wilhelm, Simmering, Evers, Weidhuner, Elstrodt.

An interesting feature o fthese peoples was the "Cookie Corner" in the German Evangelical Church.  Mothers sat with the very young inthe back section of the church, letting the little ones feast on sugar cookies to keep them quiet.  Also, the custom of men sitting on one side of the church was a customn carried over from Germany.

Education was a luxury for these early German families.  Few of the young people were allowed to complete elementary school, and any high school education was attained only by those who could be spared from the work of the farm.  The young boys were expected to do their share of the chores  besides husking corn or plowig and planting before and after school hours.  During the busiest seasons, they had to stay out of school to help, and, because it was very difficult to keep up with studies, they often dropped out of shcool.  A school wichi served many of these families was Salt Creek school, located in the heart of one of the German communities."

NOTE:  I received this documentation from my grammie and I don't think many have this actual story.  Perhaps at a later date  I'll quote some more of this really good documentation of the town's history. 

Upcoming Important Greenview Event

Many of my readers will remember one of our Greenview residents Daisy Duncan.  As you know, she was a kind hearted woman who always had a smile on her face.  Since 2004 there has been an annual Golf Classic, called Daisy's Angels Golf Classic.  This event raises money to provide back-to-school supplies, backpacks, and clothing for area children who might not otherwise have these as well as Christmas gifts for Daisy's Christmas Angels.  What a worthwhile event to have in this village.
Please see the link below and plan on participating in this golf classic on July 23, 2012.

http://myemail.constantcontact.com/Corrected-9th-Annual-Daisy-s-Angels-in-the-Fairway-Registration-Only.html?soid=1104030179732&aid=efCI59hGAKw

Quote For The Day

God is a comedian playing

to an audience too afraid to laugh.

--Voltaire

Wow....I can't believe how much I use my computer.  I'm wearing it out.  And, that's not counting how much electricity I use to plug the dang thing in, plus when I burn the late night oil doing posts on this blog all of the electricity I use.  I think I've told you before that I think I'm the unpaid human relations and  media communication officer for the village of Greenview. 

Perhaps I should just send the village a bill that says.....Dear Village Board:  If you want me to continue to post past history events and some of the important upcoming events of the village, please send me money so I can buy a new computer and pay my electricity bill.  All money will be appreciated since I do a really fine job of talking past and future trailer park trash about the village.  But, if you don't see fit to send me that money, I will continue to post mediocre things and every once in a while I will put something nice (??) about the village board, but that article might be slanted if  you don't give me any money towards a new computer and my electricity.  Cordially yours (unless you don't send me money and then this changes to "I'm ticked off"),  Signed:  The Trailer Park Trash Talk Queen Of Words.



Thanks for coming to my blog.

(this blog and the content of all posts is copyright material...don't copy!!!!)

In view of the busy summer, I have been posting two times weekly and sometimes and extra picture or joke only post.  This has certainly lessened my summertime work load.  I appreciate your continued following even though I have cut the number of posts.  The number of readers has greatly increased and I personally want to thank you for the all time record number of views.

Hope to see you again!!!!