How to Stimulate the Economy

17 Sep

My Take

 

 DiVoran Lites

Last night after our friends left, Bill was watching a movie in our studio, formerly the garage and took his head-set off for a moment. Right away, he heard running water and got up to take a look at the laundry area. Hot water was running from the heater onto the indoor outdoor carpet for the second time in a decade. We rushed around getting things turned off and laying towels to keep the water from spreading any further than it already had.

Bill called the company from whom we lease the water-heater. They are responsible to replace the water heater if, no, I mean when it goes bad. They’d made good on the last one, and we knew they’d make good on this one.

The first thing we rented from the company back in 1965 was a clothes dryer for about three dollars a month. It was a deal we didn’t want to pass up, it was also the first dryer we’d ever had. It was great for Florida mainly because of all the rain we get some months. I was a bit sorry it was too late for the tons of diapers I’d hung out for our two kids, but that just made me appreciate having a dryer more. It lasted twenty-five years. The repairman that replaced it said, “They don’t make them like this any more. Now they have what they call planned obsolescence.” That was the first time I heard of it, and I was shocked.

In my home town one of the original Edison light bulbs still worked perfectly. Also I read that pantyhose existed that would not run, but they kept them off the market so they could keep selling them. I’ll bet they’re hurting now that they’ve gone out of fashion. We all knew about how much better cars could have been at lasting longer, but obsolescence is set up to stimulate the economy and if you love your country, you’re supposed to put up with all kinds of foolishness, so we do.

Bill called Saturday night at 10:30 and within twelve hours the man came for the old water heater and to install a new one. It took three hours. As he finished up, Bill complimented him on a job well done, and said. The other one lasted ten years. I hope this one will do better than that. The man said, “Probably not.”

When he was gone, Bill looked it over and said, I believe I’ll pipe that overflow vent outside, since a flood is the only thing that will tell us our water heater is ready to retire.

Wouldn’t you love to know how long a water heater would last if space age technology and craftsmanship were brought to bear on the problem? But what do I know? Excellence may already be on the way out. Ya think.

Colossians 3:22

 

Related articles

 

Tags: , ,

Sunday Memories-Safe

16 Sep

 

We at the OldThingsRNew blog  are  so pleased  to be growing and adding a new feature, Sunday Memories. We welcome Judy Wills as our very first contributor and hope she makes it a weekly event.

Judy Wills

Safe

“I’m sorry……….but it’s cancer.”

Those words are probably some of the most dreaded in the English language.  I certainly never expected to hear them about myself.  My husband was standing by my side as I took the phone call, and laid his hand on my shoulder as I immediately looked into his face and told him the results.

“It’s very small – it’s probably only been growing a few months – since Christmas perhaps.”

Well, that’s one bright spot in all this – if there can be such a thing in………cancer.

Make the appointment to see the surgeon.  Take time off work to see the surgeon, then schedule the surgery.  My boss was the most understanding, gentle, generous man I could ever want to work with, i.e. take all the time you need.  We can cover you here.  And he and my co-workers did – they bathed me in their prayers.

One of the most difficult things was to tell our daughters – so very far away.   And then to tell my brother and sister-in-law, who is more than a sister to me.  They prayed with us over the phone.

And my prayers took on an almost desperate mantra – “Lord….keep me safe.  Please keep me safe.  Keep Fred safe.  Keep me safe………”

Good Friday came, and I was scheduled to play the organ for the service at the church.   During one of the short devotional thoughts, as I was sitting on the organ bench, it seemed like God took me on His lap and wrapped me up in His arms.  And the word that came into my mind was……. SAFE.  Nothing more.  But I knew everything was going to be okay.  I was SAFE in God’s arms – WE were safe in God’s arms.

It only lasted a few seconds, and I can’t tell you what the Pastor spoke on.  But I’ve never forgotten that feeling of total security and safety and love that God gave me that evening.

12 years and counting.  How’s THAT for being SAFE in God’s arms?

Related articles

 

Tags: , ,

A Better Mousetrap Round Two

15 Sep

Speak Up Saturday

 Patricia Franklin

Here are some thoughts regarding our pet mouse.I think our precocious mouse is enjoying the new “live” traps we set out for him.

First, he is laughing and turning up his nose at the few little seeds in the middle of the sticky surface. He has completely ignored the seeds that came with the trap, but he has to be eating something!

Second, I think he is using these traps to attract his own preferred food products for his gourmet appetite. I always thought mice were vegetarians. However, he either consumed the beetle bug or dragged him off somewhere in order to clean up his own private space, leaving only one skinny beetle leg behind.

On the other hand, maybe he has a secret entrance to come in and out of the house, while enjoying the fruits of my garden before coming in to cool off in the evening.

At any rate, I can feel his little beady eyes watching me and I even imagine I can hear his little snicker when I check the traps and he isn’t there. (We currently have five traps in the laundry room). I’m certain he enjoys the laugh of the day and then goes on his merry way to wait for the next challenge from our simple little minds.

 

Proverbs 17:22

 

Tags: , ,

Wringer Washing Machine Blues

12 Sep

 

A Slice of Life

 Bill Lites

 

One day my mother asked if I wanted to help her with washing the family laundry.  At the time, we had one of those barrel shaped washing machines with the clothes wringer attached to the top and side of it.

 

I must have been about 7 or 8 and had only watched my mother and grandmother do the laundry, but as a young boy intrigued with all things mechanical, I was eager to see how everything worked.  She showed me how to turn on the water to fill the tub, how big a load of clothes could be washed, how much soap powder to add, and all that technical stuff.  I watched carefully so I could do it myself the next time she needed help with the laundry.  After she got the washer going, I stayed around to see how long it took to wash the cloths and how everything worked.

 

When the washing was done, the tub had to be drained and the cycle repeated to rinse the clothes.  After that was all done it was time to wring the water out of the clothes so they could be hung on the clothesline to dry.  She was very careful to show me how to feed each piece of clothing into the rotating ringer so I wouldn’t get my fingers pinched.

 

This worked well for a while until I figured I was a pro at that job and got careless.  As I was feeding a piece of clothing into the wringer, I pushed a little too hard, and my middle finger went into the wringer with the piece of clothing.  “Ops! Just pull it back out dummy.”  But that didn’t work and by now that wringer was eating up my whole hand.  It didn’t hurt that much but I was scared and I screamed as loud as I could.  My mother came running but by the time she got there, I was up to my elbow in that hungry wringer’s rollers.  She tried stopping the wringer but didn’t think to just pull the electric cord from the wall.  By now I was up to my armpit and was sure I was going to lose my arm.  I’m sure my screaming didn’t help my mother’s concentration.  She grabbed me around the chest and pulled with all her might, stripping my arm out against the rollers.  This time when I screamed it was because of the pain and the vision of my arm coming out of its socket.  I must have had my eyes closed or something because I really don’t know how she got my arm out of those rollers without pulling my arm off, but she did.

I had painful scraps all down the inside of my arm but thank goodness I still had my arm.  I really don’t like to think about what could have happened if my mother hadn’t been there to pull my arm out of those rollers in time.    Back in those days, I don’t think there was any kind of safety overload switch that would have stopped the rollers when my body got to them.  I would have come out looking like a cartoon character, or worse, Flat Sam.  I think of it as just another case of Someone up there watching over and protecting inquisitive young kids.

 

 

Scripture: 2 Peter 3:17

 

 

Tags: , ,

Washing Sheets

10 Sep

 

My Take

DiVoran Lites

Some night try crawling between sheets dried outside on the line. There’s nothing like catching a whiff of ozone as you drift off to dreamland.

But what if you’re a homemaker a couple of hundred years ago? How will you get fresh clean sheets then?

Here’s how: set aside the whole day to do the washing. Prepare the meals beforehand. Heat gallons of water in a big pot on the stove and get some strong body help to carry it outside and pour it into a galvanized tub. Pour in some cold water, too, but keep it as hot as your hands can stand. The only way to get a sheet clean is to rub it on a washboard with a bar of soap the ingredients of which are lard, ashes, and lye. By the way, if your teen-age son wants to learn to play a musical instrument, what could be better than a washboard as part of the percussion section with the Saturday night dance band? Then while you’re using it for its real purpose, you can think about dancing and music and at least take a mental break from the toil.

Pour bluing bought at the general store into the rinse tub to make your sheet whiter. Put it through the wringer. You’ve heard people say, “I feel like I’ve been through the wringer?” I know someone who actually has. My husband Bill caught his arm when he was just a kid. It’s a good thing it was already so skinny that it slid right out. That was as recent as 1942.

On the way to the clothesline, be careful not to drag the sheet in the dirt or you’ll have to wash it all over again.

I hope you have help when you hang it; even though much of the water has been extracted, it’s still heavy.

Did your granddad once carve dozens of wooden clothespins without springs that slip over the ends of the sheets? Did you inherit them? Cherish them, they occupied him many winter nights in front of the fire and he made them, not only from necessity, but from love as well.

Hang the sheet in the sun, if you can. It is the best bleach known to man. The neighbors will inspect as they go by to see if it is as white as white as white can be, they will judge your housekeeping by it.

If you live somewhere that has freezing cold winter days the sheet will stiffen into ice by the end of the day and you’ll have to wrestle it into the house. If you live in a desert place and you have a strong wind, it will dry quickly. Nighttime is for going to bed, flying to dreamland, but you may be so tired after your long, physical day’s work that you won’t remember your dreams when you awaken the next morning. Never, mind, you have the satisfaction of a job well done and you can look forward to doing it all again next week and knowing that you are an excellent housekeeper indeed.

Ecclesiastes 9:10

Wednesday we will have Bill’s take on laundry.. …Onisha

Related articles

 

PPSD and God

8 Sep

Today I am suffering from PPSD or Post Promo Shock Disorder. My brain is numb and  my fingers feel lifeless and lethargic. We just finished three days of giving away Rebekah’s newest e-book Julianne. The promo was exciting  and a lot of books were downloaded. Friends on twitter and Facebook all rallied to spread the word and I am thankful for each one of you. Most of all I am grateful to God. There is no other explanation, we are just not that good at promoting. Hugs……Onisha

 

 

 

I

 

 

Tags: , , , ,

No More Pizza Please

5 Sep

 

A Slice of Life

Bill Lites

My parents had many hopes and dreams for my sister and me, and tried to give us every advantage they could, so we could realize those dreams.  One way they tried to help me, was to set aside a small scholarship fund when I was born, to help pay for my college education (their dream for me).

I had always wanted to be a mechanic.  My plan was to send money home to my wife every month while I was in the Navy so we would have enough saved to last until she and I were able to find jobs after I got out.  She was a licensed beautician in New Mexico and I planned to work part-time while I went to school.

After I got out of the Navy, my wife and I moved to Inglewood, California for me to go to Aviation Mechanic School.  The problem was, I didn’t really know how the job market worked, so, when I talked to the  school registrar, he convinced me that I didn’t really want to be a mechanic, but an engineer.  Looking back on it, I’m sure he got extra points for every person he signed up for the three-year engineering course over the one-year mechanics course.

When I insisted I wanted to be a mechanic, he said, “Well, okay, we have the perfect course for you, it will give you a Mechanical Engineering degree and an Aviation Mechanics license”. I think I bought into that mainly because he told me how much more money I would be making as an engineer and, it would also make my parents happy,

All of that was great, but the next class startup for that course was two months away, so we started looking for work.  That’s when we discovered that my wife’s New Mexico license wouldn’t be accepted in California and she would have to take the California State test.  We lived it up while the money lasted, but then things started getting really tight.  We had to stop driving the car and go everywhere we could on my 1955 Harley Davidson motorcycle.

Finally, in desperation, a friend got us both a job packing Christmas cards, which barely paid for our rent and gas.  We were too proud to ask our parents for help, because I guess we wanted to prove to them that we were adults and could make it on our own.  There was one week during that time we were lucky the motorcycle had a full tank of gas and we didn’t have to buy any food, because I walked around all week with just one nickel in my pocket until we were paid.

At  Halloween we were told the neighborhood kids did bad “tricks” to houses and cars if they didn’t  get lots of “treats”.  We didn’t have money to buy any treats, so we rolled my motorcycle into the living room of the tiny apartment we were renting, and took the car to the drive-in movie.  Of course, we didn’t have enough money for both of us, so my wife got in the trunk.  Boy, what kids will sometimes do to avoid confrontation.

Well, somehow our parents realized we were in bad financial straits, and each family sent us a “Care Package” consisting of four boxes of Appian Way Pizza.  Those packages got to us just in the nick of time, as we had just celebrated Thanksgiving with a plate of pinto beans, no seasoning of any kind except salt.  We really enjoyed that pizza for the first week or so (two or three times a day) but then it started getting really tiresome.  We still have the “Special Offer” pizza pan that we got with all those Appian Way Pizza box tops.

Somehow, we survived until my wife’s California Beautician’s license came through, and she got a job. After that, our immediate problems were over, but that’s not to say we didn’t have a lot more life changing encounters over the eight years we spent in Inglewood, California.

Scripture: Philippians 4:19 (The Message)

 

Tags: , , , ,

Mozart, Wherefore Art Thou?

3 Sep

My Take

 DiVoran Lites

One day at the bookstore, I saw a book called, Your Playlist Can Change Your Life. The subtitle: 10 proven ways your favorite music can revolutionize your health, memory, organization, alertness and more. It sounded like the all-purpose snake medicine of previous centuries. I bought the book and it’s a great book and a satisfying concept because I LOVE MUSIC, I need it. I crave it. If I don’t get it, I go searching for it.

You see, I struggle with moodiness and I’ve had a campaign for years to combat it in any way I can. My first line of defense is to read the Bible. That always lifts me. I spend time listening to the Holy Spirit and I journal every morning literally getting things off my mind. I like to walk, read, paint, write, sing and be with family and friends. One big help in my battle against the blues is to stop berating myself or in popular parlance, stop beating myself up. Yes, I cook, do laundry, etc. Everything goes better with music.

By the time I use all my little tricks, I’m ready to enjoy life, except for problems, which I’m now prepared to ignore. However, with all my playing around, one tiny corner of my life was falling apart.

It about did me in when the classical station turned into talk radio. My CD players were always breaking down from overuse. Where had all the music gone? I had almost despaired when along came an iPod and Pandora streaming radio. I know, I’m probably already old-fashioned, but I’m stopping here for a while in my drive to keep up with technology.

I placed the music from some of my favorite CDs on the iPod and I use those when I can’t listen to Pandora. However, Pandora is it for painting and writing. When I first signed up, I was allowed 100 radio stations. One Hundred?!? I’ll never want that many, but of course now I do, in fact, if I want to try a new one I have to delete one I’ve already got, and it’s hard to choose.

My current favorite is Dan Gibson Radio. Mr. Dan and his friends have forests, seas, birds, and frogs in their recording studio along with many wonderful instruments that play calm and blissful music.

Sometimes, though, if I am running on empty, I click on Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart Radio. You’ve seen, “Mozart for Baby,” CDs. You’ve read how some classical music makes the left and right brain work together. It’s all true. If I need to be revived, and energized, Mozart does the job. I also like Alexander Desplat the composer of soundtracks for, “Julie and Julia,” and, “The King’s Speech” (good, clean movies by the way).

Sometimes I like jazz and sometimes I like Jay and Molly Unger Their music makes me feel as if I’m at a dos-si-do dance wearing a fluffy dress and swinging with my partner. I dance in the kitchen, so does our friend, Patricia Franklin. Do you?

The Claude Debussy station seems to fit almost any occasion. One of the things I like best, if I’m not trying to use my brain for writing or reading is, “Amazing Grace Station,” where I can sing along to the songs in my Baptist Hymnal. Music is back in my life and I love it. Oh, don’t forget, Chet Atkins, Floyd Cramer, and all those kinds of guys. Bill and I like to listen to those together.

Colossians 3:16

Related articles

Tags: , ,

Speak Up Saturday – A Better Mouse Trap

1 Sep

Speak Up Saturday

Patricia Franklin

Patricia had been guest blogging this summer sharing her diary of the robin family. Now the robins have left the nest and a new critter is moving in….. Onisha

Well, now that the birds are raised and gone we have another critter to deal with. We have been trying to catch a mouse that has been living in our laundry room for two months. Sounds easy doesn’t it? But, we have tried everything to catch him–peanut butter, Cheetos™, honey, and a combination of these, which usually gets them right away.

Last night we set three traps — two of them with honey and Cheetos™. This morning he had those traps looking brand new, clean as a whistle, to the last drop of honey, but he did not trip the trap. We thought he was too small and light to set them off at first, but after two months of eating all that good food, we figured he ought to be big and fat enough that we could almost catch him with our hands, but he never sets off the trap.

Two years ago, our neighbor brought his trailer house down from the mountains. He said he was going to clean it up and take it to Texas. He also said it was full of mice. It was, and we have had mice ever since.

The black cat from across the street got fat on those mice. He spent a lot of time in our shed (with the broken board in the door so he could get in.) I can hear him prowling around in there at night. The cat stole the old traps that worked from the shed. He took mice, traps and all. He is a good mouser, but there are still a few mice around. Yes, he is the same one who goes after the birds, the one I put rose branches around the yard to keep out. I can’t get too mad at him, though, because I like the way he takes care of the mice.

Our laundry room guest, besides being a smart mouse, may be a “Smart Mouse” (you know like a Smart Phone – with a computer chip in there to tell him how to eat his fill without being caught.) We got a couple of new compassionate traps or whatever you call them, with sticky on the pads so you can catch them alive. Aaaghh! However, unless he is disguised as a beetle bug, we have not caught him yet.

Last month our neighbor sold his house and took his trailer to Texas, but he obviously left at least one mouse here.

Are mice now more intelligent than humans are? Is there not an engineer or inventor out there who can design a trap for a modern mouse? Or do EPA regulations forbid them to design one that can harm the little critters?

Beats me, but then, I’m not the first person to be  beaten by a mouse.

 

Leviticus 11:29

Related articles

Tags: , ,

Things I Learned Today

30 Aug

On the Porch

Onisha Ellis

We are blessed to be able to divide our time between the beautiful mountains of North Carolina and the tropical beauty and pleasant winters of Florida. On Sunday we kissed the grandchildren goodbye  and on Tuesday we hit the highway for Florida.       By the time we arrived I was pretty sure one of those sweet grandchildren had gifted me with a summer cold. So, at the moment I am miserable  but fortunately I have a nice piece of writing by Jacob Leitzinger tucked away for just such a time.

Things I Learned Today 

Jacob Leitzinger

 
Make the protein shake BEFORE the workout and store it in your fridge.
You ever try to open one of those “Protein Powder” things right after a workout? They make it seem like you need to be working out. They’re REALLY tough to open
Add the protein powder AFTER the milk. Otherwise, you get clumps.
And finally: working out is hard.

Tags: , ,

← Older Entries
Newer Entries →