The Gift Card

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Congratulations! You are the recipient of American’s most wanted gift, the gift card. The gift card can be exchanged for many useful and necessary items. Cash is not one of them.

Please read the following instructions to learn how to use your new gift card.

Gift cards come with a number of different designs on the front. Ignore the picture; it is the amount that the card will purchase that matters, and they are all spent exactly the same way. You can tell how much the balance is on the card by calling the phone number conveniently located on the back of the card and entering the secret identification number, also on the back of the card.

When you have decided what you want to purchase with your gift card, take it to the retail store indicated on the front of the card. This will most likely be a store you have never heard of with items you are not interested in buying. This is how friends encourage you to try new experiences and to acquire items that you cannot afford. Also, it is how retailers make extra profit from gift cards.

Regardless of the item you select, it will always cost more than the gift card is worth and you will have to pay the additional amount yourself. In this way you are assured of receiving a gift that is exactly what you want, regardless of whether the giver can afford it or not.

In the unlikely event that you select an item which is less expensive than the value of the gift card, you will have approximately $1.58 left on the card. You will then need to carry it around for the rest of your life, or until you find another item that you want to purchase and remember to use the card’s balance.

Gift cards are plastic money, like credit cards, except after they are spent you cannot continue buying with them. You can, however, have them reactivated in whatever amount you wish to pay. Why on earth you would want to reactivate a gift card has never been explained. You can also keep the worthless card as a souvenir after you use it. You will most likely forget that it is spent and try to spend it again a few months later.

If you do not want to use your gift card right away, you can save it until you actually need something and use it at that time. This will give you ample opportunity to lose it or misplace it before it is spent. You can have lost or stolen cards replaced as long as you have the number which is conveniently located on the back of the card that you lost and the receipt which is normally retained by the giver.

If you purchase an item with your gift card and later decided that you do not want or need it, most stores will allow you to return it for a full refund in the form of another gift card. In fact, the trend is to give all refunds in the form of gift cards. You can then use the card to re-gift someone when you do not know what to buy for a gift.

Gift cards have become so popular that some stores sell not only cards for their own store, but cards for other stores as well. A wide variety of colorful designs for all occasions are now available. Customers may have almost as much trouble selecting the right gift card as they would in selecting the right gift.

The biggest gift of all that is given with gift cards is to retailers who make about $8 billion per year in profit from unused and unspent gift cards.

Copyright 2006 Sheila Moss
Posted in Finance, Holidays, Humor, Shopping | Tagged , , , , , , , | 4 Comments

Candy Is Dandy


Here it is, Christmas again and the whole world is turning into sugar and spice. For some reason, we don’t seem to be able to celebrate the holiday without filling ourselves with sweets.

What is it about the Christmas season that brings out the sweet side of people? And I don’t mean sweet, as in “nice.” I mean sweet as in candy, cookies, cake, and other goodies. It’s like dancing with the sugar plum fairy.

“Here, have a cookie! The ones with the cranberries are good. Did you try the chocolate chip ones?” And this was at a business meeting. Because it is Christmas, the world has turned into a candy kitchen.

You can’t get through the door at Wal-Mart without falling over the stacks of decorated cupcakes conveniently located where you have to pass right by them. And that is not even to mention the featured displays of candy at the checkout lane.

Temptation preys on my weakness for the Christmas candy that you can only get during the Christmas season. I know that I won’t have any for a whole year if I don’t eat it now, which makes it twice as hard to pass by.

Maybe it is the sugar rush to the brain making me hyper, or maybe it is just my sugarcoated imagination, but I feel as if candy canes and chocolate covered cherries are chasing me. I’m running as fast as I can, but the sweets are always there first when I arrive, regardless of where I go.

It’s tough to say “no” to all this sugar, especially when we have been
conditioned to think that sweet is a treat and sugary items are “goodies”.

“Care for a free sample?” At the grocery store they are handing it out in the produce aisles. “Would you like a discount coupon?”

We are practically living in gingerbread houses with frosting dripping from the rooftops. The average American consumes 20 pounds of sugar a year. Still, we can’t seem to get enough of the stuff. Obesity is one of our biggest health problems.

“Would you care for dessert?”

Of course, I would. I didn’t get enough sugar in my cola drink. I really need more.

Everything is candied, caramelized, or coated with chocolate. Some breakfast cereals have as much sugar as a bar of chocolate. We put Twinkies in our lunch boxes, and gourmet coffee is more like a dessert than a beverage. Very few items on the grocery shelf do not list sugar as one of their ingredients.

Holidays are worst of all, because sweets and sugar treats are pushed, flaunted, and waved in our face like at no other time of the year. We manage to rationalize our over indulgences with enough excuses to put several additional pounds under our belts during the holiday season.

So. I’ve been thinking that if we are going to eat sugar anyhow, why disguise it as breakfast pancakes or a gourmet beverage? We might as well just consume pure sugar and get it over with.

Pass the candy dish.

Copyright 2006 Sheila Moss


Posted in Food, Health, Holidays, Humor | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | 5 Comments

Application to Retire


NAME: Gabby Ol’ Grump

ADDRESS: Just address me as “Hey You” or Granny. My home street address? You can just deposit my pension checks directly into my bank account and I won’t have to worry about them getting stolen out of my mailbox. Old people obsess about this, you know.

SEX: Once in a while, but I’m still young enough to be hopeful.

POSITION APPLIED FOR: Couch Potato. Seriously, I’ve spent the best years of my life in an office cubicle. It’s time to blow this joint and see the rest of the world.

PREVIOUS SALARY: Too little, too late — however from an employer’s perspective, I probably make enough to pay two or three part-time employees who are younger and more energetic than I am.

DESIRED SALARY: $100,000 per year plus paid medical and dental insurance. Since that’s not an option according to the retirement office, then I guess I will have to learn to live on Social Security, the inadequate pension you have provided (thank you), and the interest off my checking account.

EDUCATION: Graduated suma cum lauda from the School of Hard Knocks and hold an advanced degree from the University of Experience.

LAST POSITION HELD: If all goes as planned, this will be my last position. It’s really hard to know since I’m not dead yet, in spite of what others may think.

PAST EXPERIENCE: Been there, done that, don’t want to go there again.

NOTABLE ACHIEVEMENTS: I can’t think of anything other than staying alive to reach retirement age without having a heart attack or nervous breakdown, and without even taking an extended absence to use up my sick leave before retirement.

REASON FOR LEAVING: To get a life. But, if it were not for the 8-hour rat race, I would stay around forever just to aggravate all the younger workers who want my job.

HOURS AVAILABLE: 24/7 – except for nights, weekends, holidays, and afternoon beauty naps.

ANY SPECIAL SKILLS: I can work overtime with the flu, meet stressful deadlines without going postal, use the stairs instead of the elevator, and can stay awake and hold my water during long, boring meetings. I can also type with one hand while answering the phone with the other.

CURRENT EMPLOYER: You are my current employer. Check with the Personnel Department. Don’t you speak to each other any more?

ARE YOU WILLING TO RELOCATE? I’ve heard that Florida is a popular place for retirement; however, many retirees are moving back to where they came from due to the hurricanes. Arizona is not an option. It’s too far away from the grandchildren.

ANY SERIOUS MEDICAL CONDITIONS: I don’t remember. (Another good reason to retire.)

DO YOU HAVE A CAR? Yes, it has 70,000 miles on it from commuting back and forth to the city five days a week; however, it’s almost paid for and has good tires. (If you are offering to give me a company vehicle, I accept.)

HAVE YOU RECEIVED ANY SPECIAL AWARDS OR RECOGNITION? No, You don’t even know I work here. (See above.) I did get a nice certificate with my name spelled wrong, however, and a silver key chain for my many years of service.

DO YOU SMOKE? If I did, do you think I would have lived long enough to be retiring? Who has time for a smoke break around here anyhow? (Are you gathering information to reduce my life insurance benefits by any chance?)

RETIREMENT OBJECTIVE: To stay busy doing all the things that I haven’t had time to do because I am always at work. And when I’m out of here, don’t call me – I’ll call you.

HAVE YOU EVER BEEN CONVICTED OF A FELONY? No, retirement isn’t a crime; it’s supposed to be a reward for breaking my back in the salt mines, isn’t it?

IS THIS INFORMATION TRUE AND COMPLETE TO THE BEST OF YOUR KNOWLEDGE? Of course, I could be fired for lying on my retirement application — if I wasn’t quitting anyhow, that is. (heh-heh!)

REFERENCES: Try Wikipedia, our Policy Manual or Google it.
(No use asking my boss if I am a good candidate for retirement. She is too busy looking for someone to replace me who will work for the same measly salary.)

Copyright 2006 Sheila Moss

Photo by Niklas Hamann

Posted in Humor, Work Humor | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 4 Comments

When You’ve Gotta Glow

3 glowing pigs

I read an article in the paper about some scientists in Taiwan who had biogenetically engineered three green pigs that glow in the dark. Apparently this was big news at the time, but some of us are a bit slow finding out about it.

I knew about the glofish that were being sold as neon glow-in-the-dark pets. However, it seems there are now all sorts of glowing animals. An artist has created a glowing bunny and there are also glowing mice that have been genetically changed.

Scientists do this by taking genes from jellyfish, which glow naturally, and inserting them into the fertilized egg of the animal they are trying to reproduce. Sometimes it works and sometimes not, but in the case of the pigs, it worked at least three times.

Of course, the way the human mind operates is to instantly jump to the conclusion that the next thing will be a green glow-in-the-dark human. We have seen too many mad scientists in science fiction movies to think otherwise.

If we could engineer babies to glow pink and blue, it might be more appealing. Of course, I suppose there would always be those people who think that pink and blue babies are gender biased though and would insist on having a yellow glo-baby instead.

The point of all this genetic engineering is supposed to be the study of stem cells and disease and the ability to trace a glowing cell in the body much easier than would be possible otherwise. Scientists assure us that creation of Franken-babies is not the goal of their research.

What would be the advantages of glow-in-the-dark babies anyhow? Mothers would not have to turn on a nightlight for the 2:00 o’clock feeding. As far as adult humans, I can’t think of many advantages. Criminals would have a harder time committing crimes if they could be easily seen, but police would have a harder time sneaking up and catching them in the act too.

It is supposed that when two genetically altered green pigs mate, the offspring will also glow without further human intervention. But what about when pink and blue adults have children? Would the offspring be pink if girls and blue if boys or some weird combination of both that might make them purple? The trouble with this whole thing is that we really are not sure what might result.

Probably you think I’m just making an inductive leap here and that biogenetic  engineering on humans is not in the future. But scientists have tried to produce a green monkey already, which is the animal most genetically similar to man. Maybe the little green men of science fiction fame are not as far-fetched as they seem to be.

It is sort of the opposite of the repressed desire of people to become invisible. Instead people would always be visible, even at night. It would be hell if we re-engineered nocturnal creatures that depend on hunting at night to camouflage them from their prey. However, the cat could no longer run off at night and refuse to come inside.

If jellyfish or ocean creatures occur in enough different colors, people might be able to choose designer colors for their offspring, creating a whole new breed of humans. Imagine a nightclub full of people all dancing and glowing in different colors.

Other than for novelty and amusement, I can’t really see much point in making a green human. But, if it can be done and the technology is there, you can be pretty sure that sooner or later it is going to happen, regardless of complaints about the moral implications. Fears of a “brave new world” might become realities.

Pick a favorite color, just in case you need one.

Copyright 2006 Sheila Moss
Posted in Humor, Technology | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Please Help the Babysitter


My grandaughter came to visit last week. She is five months old, a cute little bundle in pink crawlers with enough black hair that we can cut it soon and sell it to the hair-club for bald babies.

My daughter had some errands to do, and grandmothers, of course, are forever-willing babysitters for adorable grandchildren who look at them and smile with two white teeth and black eyes the size of saucers.

It is not until mom is out of the driveway that grandchildren show their true colors. The instant baby realized that mommy was gone, she looked at her smiling grandma as if she was a reincarnation of Attila the Hun.

A blood-curdling scream emitted from her with a magnitude of 3.5 on the rector scale. “Oh, isn’t that cute? She misses her mommy!” It was amusing for about 3 whole minutes when the sound waves began to penetrate my brain and melt it into a puddle of plasma.

I tried to distract her with the dancing Hokey Pokey toy that made her laugh and nearly jump out of her diaper when mommy was here.

“You put your arm in and you shake it all about!”


“You do the Hokey Pokey and your turn yourself around”


“And that’s what it’s all about.”


Well, that may be what it’s all about in Hokey Pokey Land, but in grandma’s living room what it was all about was screaming like an opera soprano hitting a “high C”. Who needs an iPod to make you deaf when you have a baby?

Nothing I could do would turn off my little high fidelity sound machine. We rocked, we read books, we rattled rattles, we sang songs, and we changed diapers that were not even wet.

It became apparent that baby was going to scream until mommy returned or the baby passed out from exhaustion, whichever came first. I warmed a bottle and popped it into baby’s mouth like a cork. Finally, she fell asleep exhausted and napped for a blissful 30 minutes.

The eye of the hurricane was past, but when she woke up, the screams started again from the other direction. We bounced, we did more Hokey Pokey, we played musical ABC’s, we read the 1-2-3 Book, and we played every musical tune in the Baby Einstein top ten.

She actually liked the musical toys. Sometimes she would laugh and cry at the same time. That’s a neat trick. I wish I could learn how to do it. I was afraid she would make herself sick crying, but she only got the hiccups — another good reason to scream.

Finally, “The clock struck 6:00; the mouse ran down; Hickory, Dickory, Dock.” It was time to take her home. It took me 30 minutes to figure out how the car seat worked and another 30 to pack up all the baby gear that modern babies need to reinforce their hysteria. But the instant we hit the road, she passed out cold and the concert ended before the car got out of the driveway.

By the time we got to my daughter’s house, baby pink pants was wide-eyed and all giggles. She smiled at her mommy, practically leaped into her arms, and looked at me as if I was a demented terrorist kidnapper who had been foiled.

All the books say that there is no such thing as spoiling a baby. It’s called “separation anxiety.” I suspect it’s the same symptom by a different name. Something is basically wrong here, though. I thought it was a Grandma’s job to spoil the baby rotten and then let mommy deal with it.

Copyright 2006 Sheila Moss
Previously published as
“The Babysitter”


Posted in Family, Humor | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 6 Comments

Make Green Stuff, Mom

Well, it’s done, the annual making of the green stuff for the holiday. I always put it off until the last day and then wonder why I didn’t do it sooner.

“I am not cooking this year,” I told my family. “I am buying a turkey breast and all the trimmings already prepared.” We were eating out, but the more I thought about it, the less it seemed like a good idea.

“Mom, can you at least make the green stuff,” asked my son? My tribe does not like cranberry sauce and always wants a Jello concoction we call “the green stuff” for the lack of a better name. It’s a tradition.

In spite of past cooking disasters, I agreed. I went to the grocery store yesterday and bought the ingredients, which I know by heart after making it for 50 years. Now get out of my way. You can watch, but do not make a peep until I’m done.

First, I opened everything and got it ready to use. I know what happens when I am elbow deep in sticky stuff and have to stop to open Jello.

Second, I whipped the whipping cream. “D*** that stuff takes a long time to get stiff.” Meanwhile, the mixer is spattering it on the wall, on the cabinet, on the cat and in my hair.

Third, I melted the marshmallows using the microwave. I used my largest dish, the one that barely fits when the door is closed.

Marshmallows swell when they get warm, so I stirred them down. I stirred them down again and again and again until I decide they are melted enough. A few lumps won’t matter. I can clean up the sticky stuff in the microwave later.

I try to mix in dry Jello but the marshmallows stick to the spatula, so I decide to use the mixer. The marshmallow climbs up the beaters and I have to add the juice from the pineapple to make the Jello disolve.

Finally, I added the cream cheese. “Oh no! It’s the wrong kind.” I must have picked up the low-fat kind by mistake. Well, too bad, it will have to do.

When mixed, I stirred in a can of crushed pineapple. One year I tried to use the mixer for this and the pineapple disappeared. I still don’t know where it went.

Last, I folded the green stuff into the whipping cream and it was done. ‘No, wait. That bowl is not big enough.” So, I found another bowl and poured it all into that. “Ugh! The mixer cord is in the marshmallow.”

I poured the mixture into a shallow plastic container. One year I used a deep one and all the pineapple all went to the bottom. I put it into the refrigerator and only spilled a little bit.

I am sticking to the floor, but that’s another tradition. All done, and it wasn’t nearly as bad this time as it sometimes is. The smoke alarm didn’t go off and I only cursed once.

After I put the sticky dishes the dishwasher, wipe the cabinet tops and backsplash, clean the marshmallow off the mixer, clean the microwave and mop the floor, I am finished except for taking a shower and washing my hair.

All I have to do now is complain to my friends on Facebook who will understand and click smiley faces. Others will probably make snide comments saying, “If you hate it so much, why do you do it?”

That’s a good question…

©Sheila Moss 2018

Posted in Food, Holidays, Humor | Tagged , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

Take Time to be Thankful


With Thanksgiving just around the corner, it’s time to start thinking of a few things other than turkey that we are thankful for. Since you probably know but just have trouble remembering, here is a small list of thoughts to put us all in the mood:

Be thankful when you are feeling down, someone else is always worse off than you are.

Be thankful for small things to worry about, they give us practice for the big stuff.

Be thankful if getting old and fat is the worse thing that you have to worry about.

Be thankful for laughter and for the things you are laughing about.

Be thankful we don’t have to pay for sunrises or sunsets as we could never afford one.

Be thankful for having too much work to do, that’s job insurance.

Be thankful you are free to vote your choice… even when your choice is a loser.

Be thankful for friends that are aggravating. They probably feel the same way about you.

Be thankful for uncertainty as it gives you more time to make a decision.

Be thankful that when you make a mistake that you can always blame someone else… or the dog.

Be thankful that if you don’t have time to wait, you can wait until you have more time.

Be thankful when someone says you are wrong. It gives you a chance to prove otherwise.

Be thankful that you have right to say what you think, especially when what you think isn’t worth saying.

Be thankful that the best things in life are free. This gives you more cash to spend on the second best things.

Be thankful that if you can’t avoid making a mistake, you can at least avoid repeating it.

Be thankful that there are always things to smile about – even if you sometimes forget what they are.

Be thankful for needs that are met, especially when they are met in way different than what you expected.

Be thankful for finishing last because you have the opportunity to do better the next time.

Be thankful for sticky stuff, greasy spots, and cat hair — they help us remember nothing is perfect.

Be thankful for stress – it motivates us to make changes.

Be thankful there is always enough blame to go around, so you can share it if you need to.

Be thankful for the fast lane… it gets the people that are speeding off your bumper.

Be thankful to see things as they might be instead of the way they are.

Be thankful for animals… they help us to remember that we are human.

Be thankful we don’t always get what we deserve, as what we deserve may be worse than what we have.

Be thankful that when you’ve seen it all and done it all that you don’t have do it again.

© Sheila Moss 2004
Posted in Holidays, Humor | Tagged , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

Clean Up, Spruce Up, Fix Up

person washing his hand

Photo by Burst on

Winter is here. Time to clean up, spruce up, fix up before the holidays. I don’t want to remodel the entire house but I just can’t seem to help myself. No matter how much I argue, the adrenaline seems to take over and I find myself working like my mother-in-law is coming to visit.

Adrenaline: Go to the store and buy supplies.

Self: I don’t want to fix anything!

Adrenaline: You heard me! GO!

Self: Well, maybe I can get some paintbrushes and caulk for the bathroom.

Adrenaline: And then find the paint and touch up the walls.

Self: I am sort of getting used to the “distressed” look.

Adrenaline: That’s for furniture – not the living room wall.

Self: Oh.

Adrenaline: I thought I told you last week to chip out all the cracked caulking in the bathroom.

SELF: I did, but I was too tired to finish the job.

Adrenaline: So, its just sitting there half done – when do plan to finish it? And what about the painting?

SELF: Paint is messy and I really don’t want to get into something like that until I can finish the entire house at one time.

Adrenaline : The outside of the house needs some work too. Those shutters could use a new coat of paint.

Self: Yes, yes, I know. Couldn’t I just hire that done?

Adrenaline: Pay? For something you can do yourself?

SELF: But, everything in the living room needs to be moved around for that stupid TV  we bought. Pictures will be in the wrong place. I’ll have to touch all that up too. I don’t know why I ever got into this.

Adrenaline: The more you get done now, the less to do later.

Self: I really would rather take a nap.

Adrenaline: And what will you do when the house falls in from neglect? Nap?

Self: Okay, okay, but that stupid hutch is full of dishes. I’ll have to take those out before I can move it.

Adrenaline: So??

Self: I can see it now. My entire weekend shot. I won’t have time for my regular schedule due to all the extra stuff, and next week I’ll be further behind than ever.

Adrenaline: Excuses, excuses, excuses. Are you taking your vitamins?

SELF: NO! I don’t have time to take vitamins! I’m too busy painting and moving furniture!

Adrenaline: Calm down, it will all be done eventually, and just think how nice it will look.

Self: I’m thinking about all the work involved.

Adrenaline: These living room curtains are a bit drab. Don’t you have some others upstairs? You’ve been meaning to bring those down for years and never have.

Self: I’ll have to buy different rods and put those up first.

Adrenaline: Well, after you move stuff into the living room, you will spend more time there. If you really want to look at those stupid curtains for the rest of your life go ahead!

Self: I wonder what I did with the electric drill the last time I used it?

Adrenaline: I was just thinking. Do you know how to hang wallpaper? The bathroom is really getting bad.

Self: I swore I’d never try to hang wallpaper again. The last time I tried, I was saying “sailor words” before I got done.

Adrenaline: Pity, if you were not so resistant you could really fix things up around here. Did you notice the paint on the patio table is chipped? You really need to do something about that too.

Self: You are killing me!.

Adrenaline: Shut up! Women are supposed to spruce up and fix up before a holiday. It’s traditional.

Self: If it wasn’t for you maybe I could get some rest.

Adrenaline: Don’t blame me. I’m only doing my job. If it wasn’t for me, nothing would get done around here.

Adrenaline: No one has ever died from fix-up fever.

Self: What about an adrenaline overdose?

Copyright 2006 SheilaMoss
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Buying a New Desk

books notebook macbook table

Photo by Caio Resende on

On Sunday morning my honey and I have developed the habit of going to the local pancake house for breakfast. This past Sunday was as usual, so we found ourselves headed down the road to the pancake place.

I need to mention that we had been looking for a computer desk for several weeks, but hadn’t found one yet.

“We could go look for the desk after we eat since we are already out,” suggested my honey.

I had already figured on this and brought my checkbook.

“I also need a few things,” he added. “I need speaker wire, a breaker bar, and a light bulb.” We could get that stuff at any Wal-Mart any time, I thought.

“We need to shop for the desk first because it will take more time,” I pointed out. He agreed, but I knew he really was more interested in speaker wire than a desk.

We got to the pancake house, which is always busy, and put our name on the waiting list. While we were waiting for a table, he mused, “I could run over to the office supply store and get a breaker bar while we are waiting.”

I couldn’t believe it, but he left me setting there and went to the office supply store. I decided if they called our name, I would go in and eat and he would just miss out. Fortunately for him, he made it back in time.

After eating, we went to the furniture store – well, actually, to two furniture stores. For some reason he has to look in every store in town before buying.

They didn’t have what we wanted at the first store, which was what I figured. We then went to another furniture store, a chain store just like two other stores we had already been to on other days, not to mention the four additional furniture stores we had browsed.

He finally found a desk that he liked. It was the exact same desk I had picked out the first day at the first store.

After the deal was done, he decided to look for an electronics store to buy his wire. That figures. A storm was coming up, but I knew he would not be satisfied until he got the wire. So we drove around in the traffic and pouring rain until we found an electronics store.

“Are you going in?” he asked

To buy a spool of wire? “No, I’ll just wait here.”

I thought he would be happy after that, but I should have known better. He still needed the light bulb.

“Can’t you just get one at Wal-Mart?” I asked. It was still pouring rain and bolts of lightening were flashing.

“That delivery guy broke the bulb the other day. The store will replace it.” So, we drove 25 miles in the rain to get a free light bulb. I was getting pretty aggravated.

Then he decided that we really should have purchased the hutch that went with the desk.

“I want to go home!” I said.

“Okay, I’ll take you home and go back by myself. But we could just go by on the way home.” Except it wasn’t on the way home; it was in a different direction.

I gave up.

We drove all the way back to the furniture store in the middle of a storm.

I suppose I should quit complaining and just be happy that we are done shopping. At least I didn’t have to go to five different Wal-Marts looking for the right kind of light bulb.

Copyright 2006 Sheila Moss
Previously published as
The Wire, Breaker Bar and Light Bulb
Posted in Home, Humor, Shopping | Tagged , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Finding German Roots

Not humor but an interesting story from

Blogging the Blue Danube

Dachau entrance

My partner, Morris, was born in Germany, but came to the U.S. with his parents as an infant when they immigrated. Ever since I’ve known him, he has wanted to see where he was born (Föhrenwald, Wolfratshausen, Bavaria, Germany) now called “Waldram.” This is his story, not mine. He should be the one telling it, but I doubt he ever will, at least not on the Internet.

His parents were Jewish and fled all over Europe trying to escape the Nazis during World War II. They were successful in evading capture and were in a displaced persons camp near Munich when the war ended. When they had an opportunity to come to American and escape war-torn Europe, they took it and moved to Pittsburgh. There they raised Morris and his two younger brothers that were born after moving to the U.S.

His mother was Ukrainian, his father Polish. We were…

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