just hand over the money and no one gets hurt

don't worry, not another ramble about my war with NY State for Mom's extra money. They want it, I'm not giving it up. I don't particularly want the money and will donate it to the activity dept. at Mom's nursing home. It's that the money grubbing State had it's greedy little hand out before we could think. 

This is about deciding who to buy from, who to disappoint, and trying to figure out where you'll put thirty boxes of Girl Scout cookies, tins of Boy Scout popcorn and all the coupon books you've been buying. This is soon to be followed by magazines out the ears. Yup, it's buying season. And all those people who once bought my boys crap now have little ones or first grandkids selling crap. Pay back is a true bitch. 

We only sold cookies and wreaths as kids. Cookies from my Girl Scouts and wreaths by my brother's Boy Scout troop. No big deal, Mom and Dad bought an equal total of each. One wreath equaled appx. 4 boxes of thin mints and short breads. At Halloween-eve we'd go house to house with our UNICEF boxes. The honor system still lived back then. And we did it because we really believed our little orange boxes of loose change made a huge difference. I still choose to believe it. 

Now, they start selling in pre-school: wreaths, Kindergarten: magazines, and soon the onslaught hits. Every year, several times a year. Coupon books, car washes, bottle drives, chocolate, popcorn, cooking  kits, pizzas, Christmas paper, gift cards, more than you can imagine. And every hand is out. 

Now, I was once guilty. I pimped stuff in my time. I was the winner of the 'Parent who bought the most' three years straight. I bought the hell out of that wrapping paper. Wrapping paper isn't the devil (chocolate, I'm allergic), it doesn't spoil, expire or start to smell after a while. Everyone needs wrapping paper (or bags, which isn't a bad idea. I'd buy gift bags. Save me trips to the dollar store. ) Unfortunately my prize was a basket of wrapping paper. I only recently ran out. 

I get e-mails from people's kids. I get phone calls from parents. I even got a postcard in the mail. When did pimping stuff get to high tech? We had to go door to door, every door. We had to trudge back out and deliver it all weeks later. And we only did it once a year each. Now it's school, sports, activities, clubs, you name it ..they fund raise. And we are reduced to avoiding calls, pretending we didn't see e-mails, and hiding behind the couch with the dog whenever the doorbell rings. I can only buy so much and I'm at my limit.

Unless my granddaughter is selling. I can always use more of whatever she's selling. And I'm sure who ever is reading this would like to buy some too..... I'll have her give you a call. 

Jack Frost was a pervert with a nasal fetish

that got your attention, didn't it?

The wind is blowing through my house. It comes in the back windows and goes out the front. The dog is hiding from the curtains, they keep chasing him. It smells like Autumn. On Friday and Saturday nights I can sit outside and listen to the HS footballs games. The noise carries in the air from the local school. I can tell by the roars if we're winning  and the quiet when we aren't. 

This is sleeping weather. Cold at night, chilly in the morning but sunny all day long. The grass isn't growing so fast but we trade our mower for rakes and fight Mother Nature (and lose). The apple orchards are in a full out frenzy as couples and kids pick their own. And it's pumpkin time, every grower has something to entice us. Hayrides, petting zoos, crafts, pony rides, corn mazes and haunted houses. Anything to get us in and before you know it you're headed home with a trunk full of doughnuts, pumpkins, cider and apples. 

I love this time of year. NY gets real pretty in October and the colors are already beginning to pop. My Mom's favorite bushes go all red, Burning Bushes, she loved them and planted several at the lake. The Golden Rod's faded but the bright trees make up for it. 

Life is rolling on. We got past Mom's birthday and my birthday. Next is my brother's. Then just a few more firsts. I'm not sure why they are sad days but they are. I'm hoping time eases that. Every two weeks I go up to the nursing home and visit Mom's friends, my friends now. I count faces when I walk down the hall. I need to know they're all there. Sometimes one's missing. After all they don't go there to get younger. All my faces accounted for I visit with Mom's roommate Doris and my adopted person Jean. I decorate their doors with Mom's decorations. Much better than boxing them up throwing them away. It's healing to go up, and now it's already Fall.

Halloween is everywhere, a little early but who cares, it's not s-wording yet. Cross your fingers. According to my caterpillars, it's going to be a cold cold winter. It's the perfect time to walk Watkin's Glen or Letchworth or to go to  Butter Milk Falls. I'm a creepy cemetery walker. I think the headstones are beautiful pieces of artwork. The history is fascinating to me and the trees and the leaves set the scene. 

I raked my first leaves yesterday. The first on the block! And this morning the first leaf removal trucks came by. Beats the heck out of bagging them. Every Fall my Dad bought  apples and turned the kitchen into an apple sauce factory. He froze it and all year round we had fresh applesauce at hand. When he retired and spent winters in Florida, he always bought a bushel to take back. Those NY apples were a prized commodity in Sunny Florida. I might try my hand at applesauce this weekend, or maybe make pies. Just so I can smell Autumn in my house and savor it while it's here. 

Winter isn't too far away...