No pounding and banging of a hammer.  No roar of a saw blade.  No jingling of chains or winches.  There are no screams that cut through the darkness of my mind chilling me to my bones.  It is only blessed silence.
Wait.  If there is silence now then that only means one thing.  The last one before me is gone.  She has joined the others.  No more between me and the pain, horror, and terror to come.  No more.
Soon he will come for me.  There is no hope for me now.  If only I could just leave this God forsaken place.
I cower here in my darkened corner pressed as tightly as I can get against the cold walls of my prison.  I want to run but they won’t let me.  His guards, his minions, his co-conspirators of pain.
I hear footsteps and slowing the door and a hand at the lock of my cell.  The handle turns.  I nearly wet myself as the cold, heartless, monotone voice bids me to come.
“Mrs. Matthews the dentist will see you now.”
What did you think it was going to be?
Happy Halloween.

If you haven’t read the Chocolate Donut then stop right now and go read it.  I promise you’ll be glad you did.  If not then you will never understand any of my upcoming ramblings.
Well hopefully if you are reading this from this point on you have read The Chocolate Donut.  If not then that’s on you and I’m not about to start filling you in what this is all about.
Today for the first time I returned to the scene where I became somewhat upset with the handling of my dear chocolate donuts and eclair.  Now up until today I’ve questioned vehemently my daughter’s account of the last time I was in this particular donut shop but now I must admit there may be some truth to how my daughter relates my actions and what transpired that day.  No there wasn’t a repeat performance.
My husband and I entered the little shop and while I was trying to decide exactly what I wanted, it was a little later in the day and they were out of chocolate eclairs, the lady behind the counter was casually dropping my husband’s donut choices, evidently he wasn’t attractive enough, in a bag.  When it came for my choices I promptly asked nicely for the lady to put them in a box.  She turned around and picked up a Styrofoam container and turned back to me and suddenly stopped.  She tossed that container aside and quickly reached for a box and with a look of pure terror in her eyes asked.  “You prefer a box right?”
I told her that the container would be fine it not registering with me what had just happened yet and smiled at her.  Now this poor woman was shaking as she reached for the container and ever so carefully placed my choices gently into that container never taking her eyes off me.  You could have cut the tension with a knife around this woman as she finished with us.  When I suddenly asked for a particular drink I noticed they carried the ‘Oh shit’ expression that ran across her face still didn’t register with me and this woman’s absolute terror at having to come into close contact with me.
It wasn’t until we left the shop and were getting into the car that I remembered her.  Yes it was the same woman that I evidently unleashed the horrors of hell on two or three years ago.  No I haven’t been in there since then, not because I was afraid or embarrassed to go back in but like I said before it isn’t often that I want a donut, so the circumstances revolving around my last visit had simply slipped my mind.
So now I must admit that Gina must be right in what happened that day and maybe I really should keep a tighter leash on my inner demon in the future.  Just don’t mess with my chocolate covered donuts.

We all have those moments in life that we wish we never experienced.  You know you hear something you shouldn’t, an instant in time when someone breaks your heart for some reason, or those that just leave you speechless.  Of course there are those moments when you see something you can never unsee.  Recently I not only had one of those moments but this one will forever remain in the top ten things I can never unsee.
I’m sure we’ve all have at least one time in our life seen someone taking a bathroom break in a public place but as for me, anytime I’ve been subjected to this I’ve been fortunate enough to get the back view all but once.  As we know men don't drop their drawers to do this.  I guess even the drunkest individual has some bit of decorum about taking a squat in public.  The one full frontal was appropriately expurgated by some very conveniently placed bushes thank God.
This last one was totally out of the blue and unusual.  This one left me with my mouth open and my eyes bulging out of my head while my husband busted out laughing at the show we were exposed to.
Buddy and I were heading to one of our favorite places to eat and to keep out of the bumper to bumper traffic that usually fills the parking lot of the shopping center where the restaurant is located we went around the back way of the building of this shopping center.  Yes you have all the dumpsters and what have you that goes with the backside view of a shopping center but this one is in an upscale area so even these back ways are tastefully done and always neat, tidy, and very well kept.  Rarely do you ever even see a truck, person, or wayward box sitting around out there.  A beautiful backdrop of a tree lined border and nice wooden fences almost makes it scenic.  Another words not a bad little detour to get around all the congestion of the overloaded parking areas of the front.
On this day there was something different.  As we came around to the long stretch of this little bypass we discovered an SUV pulled up to one of the dumpsters.  We saw a woman standing in front of it but even though this was a little odd we didn’t think anything of it until we got up even with the dumpster.  There was a man who had been out of our line of sight as we first came around the corner where this thing was but when we got closer we got a real good view of this guy, maybe I should say we got a real good view of his ass.  There he was hanging over in that dumpster with his pants down to his knees.  When I say his pants I’m talking about either this guy was going commando or his undies followed his pants down to his to what I'll call the surrender line.  His legs were spread just enough to allow me a fairly clear view of what was hanging there as well.  Get over it ladies there wasn’t that much to see in that arena.  Of course at our approach this guy pushes himself out of the dumpster pulling up his drawers, if he had any on that is, and his pants but I have to say not fast enough for me.  I’m fifteen seconds away from walking onto a restaurant to have a nice meal and this is the image I’m taking in there with me.  Oh for the love of God people, that’s not something you want to be seeing in your head while trying to order and eat your next meal.
Come on all you industrial individuals, if you are going to do anything, and this includes dumpster diving, put on a damn belt.  Most of us have no interest in being mooned by some stranger while they go about whatever business they are presently occupied with.  That image will forever be locked into my brain and I will never be able to wipe it from my memory and the sad thing is it wasn’t even the image of some fine looking young hunk that might have left me with at least a nice little smile on my lips.  Don’t get me wrong I don’t want to come around a corner and be met with that view either but at least maybe I won’t want to poke my eyes out afterwards.

On certain days no matter how much your mind tells you to pull the covers over your head and hide from the world the Powers That Be come together to make that an impossibility.  I had one such day yesterday.
After getting my hubby off to work at 5:30 and kissing him goodbye I took myself back to bed, curled up in a little ball, and promptly fell back to sleep.  My intention was to sleep to a much more reasonable seven or seven thirty and then getting up fixing myself a great cup of coffee and enjoying the next hour or so with that cup of coffee and thinking about absolutely nothing other than delicious little beverage with a slight touch of cinnamon tickling m taste buds while seductively caressing my olfactory senses.  Some mindless background chatter before starting on my objective for that day would complete the scene allowing me to collect my thoughts for the day before tackling whatever it was that needed my attention later.  Did it work out that way?  Oh hell no.
I get a call at 6:17 and of course I answered it because the id on my little monster of a communication machine reveals that it is my oldest daughter and she is in tears.  Her regular baby sitter has just called not long before that to tell her that she was sick and wouldn’t be available for the day and now my poor heartbroken child is wondering what to do.  At any other time Ginny or her hubby would have taken the day off to look after their two little darlings and although it wouldn’t have been a hit at work, anyone who has worked for a living will understand that, but on this day that presented a big issue for both of them.  Her hubby just got a new position where he worked and he and Ginny have a scheduled vacation coming up next week so taking a day off this close to that and it being a new position it just wasn’t the best time for him to take off.  Ginny had an even bigger problem.  My oldest works for the state’s Department of Education and her boss was in town expecting Ginny to escort her around town to several of the local schools as well as it was time to have that talk about what her future might be within that department after nest year.  If any of you have worked for the government no matter what it is be it city, county, state, or federal you know how things can be tied to one another.  Between funding, grants, and the changing of the guard of any political hierarchy means heads can roll or jobs done away with at the discretion of the incoming bigwigs.  Next year will bring about another change in that ridiculous pecking order.  Another words, taking off yesterday wasn’t a good idea.
Alright I know what you’re thinking.  I’m a grandmother and of course it is my job to jump and run and take care of those little darlings whenever I’m called upon.  Oh hell no.  No this isn’t me being mean but smart.  I’ll explain.
Buddy, I, and our three very lovely and much love girls are a combined family.  Buddy and I were both single parents when our girls were young and both our mothers were very involved with helping us out.  My mother moved in with me after my first marriage went down the tubes and his mom lived basically across the street from him so our mothers babysat while we worked and supported our children.  I can’t say they didn’t do a lot for us.  No Buddy and I hadn’t met up to now so there was no cross raising at this point.  Other than our moms we were on our own.  Therein lies the problem.
I don’t mean to take away from how much our mothers did for us because they did do a lot but Lord help us they also caused a great deal of issues with their constant presence in the lives of our children.  I can honestly say that we both heard our moms refer to our children as theirs on more than one occasion and there was no doubt that there was a competition that our mothers carried out to a disturbing degree to make sure they were favored over us when it came to our girls.  They both were so wrapped up in our children that they took a back seat when it came to their own lives and in many way let life slip past them and looking back on that I found it sad.  Also it meant that they felt their wishes and ideas of how to raise our girls took precedence over whatever Buddy and I thought and when we weren’t around what he and I wanted went out the door.  This meant that Buddy and I often became the bad guys with our girls.  If you’re a parent I’m sure you’ve heard the statement come out of your child’s mouth “But Granddad or Grandma lets us do it…have it…took us there.”  Well Buddy and I got that every day just about.
So when our daughters got grown we decided that we wouldn’t become one of those grandparents and laid down some rules regarding babysitting.  Unless there are copious amounts of blood, a deadly serious disease, extreme emergency, or once a year on your anniversary we are not your babysitters.  Our idea of being good grandparents is being grandparents.  Getting the little ones for a few hours here and there, taking them out and spoiling them, and most importantly enjoying them and hopefully them enjoying being with us while giving their parents a few hours of free time.  I’m not saying that on occasion that one of our girls don’t call and ask us to take this grandchild or that grandchild for a few hours that isn’t covered by the ground rules but this has kept it within reason and we enjoy the little buggers.
This thing yesterday came under the heading of extreme emergency in my book and my oldest was in tears so what do you think I was going to do?  You got it, get my crap together and come to the rescue.  So what’s the big deal?  Those little rules were about to raise up and bite me in the ass.
Rarely do I ever have even one of the little sweethearts on my own because it is usually Buddy and me together but I don’t think we have ever had two at one time and I was about to take on two of those little darlings at once by myself ages three and one.  Oh Bloody Crap!!!
I wasn’t so much worried about Callen the oldest because we’ve had him on many occasions and is little or no trouble when his parents aren’t around, remember the part about grandparents and parents having different ideas about how to raise kids, and he is comfortable with both of us and he has a lot of fun.  The youngest however is going through that ‘I don’t want anyone but mommy or daddy’ and starts crying if you even come close to her.  So I’m going to have these two wild little characters to deal with all on my own, all day.  Again, Oh Bloody Crap!!!  You add to this possible melt down that I’m about to have before the day is over with the fact that little Mia had spent half the night in the emergency room with a slight injury so the ante had been upped.  Also we had, due to the emergency had Callen the night before and he also had been late getting to bed not to mention he hadn’t wanted to eat anything so I could only imagine what kind of state he might be in.  Once again, OH BLOODY CRAP!!!
When I get there Callen is still asleep but of course Mia is awake and up.  She does fairly OK until her mom leaves for work at seven-thirty, dad left about an hour earlier, and sure enough she cranks up.  For an hour this child cries and I’m not talking a pitiful little whine, I’m talking full on, top of the lungs wail that would wake the dead which worried me about Callen because he is still asleep.  This little one year old darling is rubbing her eyes while singing to the dead and finally I decide what she needs is a nap and put her to bed.  Sure enough after a couple of loud outcries of pure rage she falls promptly asleep.  Blessed peace falls throughout the house and I breathe a sigh of relief as I wonder how to get through the rest of the day.
I won’t go into a couple of unnerving little mishaps that took place to add to the tension of the morning but suffice it to say they didn’t help any.
Finally Callen decides to raise up for the day at about ten and outside of still trying to shake the grogginess of a very heavy sleep he immediately comes in says hi and crawls up in my lap.  OK, this one is on the right page and maybe he will be my bright spot of the day.  Then Mia wakes shortly after and I start to head to the ‘oh crap’ mode but she is blessedly not crying.  That’s a start.  What I do get for about thirty minutes after she wakes up are these very hard, size me up, strategical looks that make me nervous.  After a while she evidently comes to a decision and smiles at me.  OK I’m not exactly talking about the cute sweet smile of a one year old, look this kid is extremely smart and scary, but the smile of a possible enemy who has decided you’re more friend than foe and is handing you the olive branch.  Mind you I’m still a little apprehensive but a little more at ease.
So how did the rest of the day go?  I ended up having a ball with these two.  They were almost perfect, hey they’re still kids and they are going to try you a little anyway, angels.  We spent the day with me taking pictures, mostly crazy ones, watching family videos on my laptop and no I never go hardly anywhere without it, playing in the back yard, still trying to get Callen to eat because he still didn’t want to, and me watching as Callen and Mia played together on their fort, and me snuggling down with the little angels as they took an afternoon nap.  I wouldn’t change it for the world.  OK the hour of heavy duty crying maybe but that’s it.
As for the, what I’m sure you think are boring, videos I’m one of those grandmothers who takes a lot of pictures and I make videos and slide shows for the grandkids of the grandkids for them to have when they get older.  Let’s face it, most kids are hams.  I say most because we have one out of our four who hates it when you pull out a camera or phone and start taking pictures which is weird because this child is beautiful.  The one exception to this with her is me.  That’s because I do take crazy pictures and she does have a sense of humor.

Oh My, Marbles Everywhere
 
While trying to get my husband’s parent’s house in order, something we should have done some time ago, we have found a lot of very interesting things.  Among our finds are airplane parts, very old ones; enough screws, bolts, washers, and other hardware to furnish several very old buildings; enough parts for old cars to build an antique car that would make Johnny Cash proud; a variety of other things that have left both my husband and me scratching our heads at what the hell this or that little gizmo might be; and marbles.
Yes I said marbles.  Well over a thousand of them.  The age on the things range from the 1860’s into the early 1960’s with most of them being from around 1915 to 1925.  Now I’m sure that most of you probably look at them the same way I did.  I’m handed a large metal box, safety deposit box no less and you’ll understand why this is so ironic shortly if you haven’t figured it out already, and asked my by husband to do something with them.  With a raised eyebrow I respond with a short OK.
Now I’m smart enough to know that there are people who do collect these things so I thought I would go and check out a famous website and look up marbles thinking I could put the whole lot out there and get may be a hundred bucks or so out of them and be done with it.  That thought was quickly shot down.  Are you flipping kidding me?  Some of these things can go for major bucks and there are a few at least in this little box that could go for that.  A tiny little ball of old glass that we played with as children can go for that much?  True most of these came along not only before I was born but even before the birth of my mom and although we won’t go into just how old that makes me or my mom, God rest her dear soul, some child from way back when was playing in the dirt with these things long before either of us were born.
If these were a handful of these things or even a couple of dozen it wouldn’t be all that daunting I don’t think but remember I said somewhere around a thousand of these little ball of glass are now left to me to figure out what to do with them.
The big problem here isn’t that I’m sitting on this vast amount of money from all these little darlings because I’m not.  Most it will turn out aren’t worth much of anything but that you can probably bank on at least .01 or .02 are probably worth a few hundred a piece is what is making this a big ass problem.
Anyway I’m off to play with my marbles and hope I don’t lose any of them like I did the ones in my head.  Hum…wonder if I could replace the ones I lost with some of these.