Brave New iWorld

Posted on June 8, 2021 by Sheila Moss

My grandchildren have a new electronic toy. My daughter called it her iPhone. It seems in a moment of sheer insanity, she downloaded a free game for the girls, thinking it would keep them quiet in the doctor’s waiting room. Since the kids found out about the toy, mommy never gets to play with it herself.

The rule is that the only games that are allowed to be downloaded are the free ones. The problem is that the free games have bright flashing ads for the improved $3.99 version. The even bigger problem is that neither of the girls are old enough to read. When they see a big flashy button, they think it is part of the game. The rest is history.

Daughter figured it out after she got the $112 credit card bill from Apple iTunes. Now the girls are supervised better when they play with mom’s toy.

It’s strange how kids seem to instinctively be able to play with these sophisticated electronics. The girls also liked my grandson’s iPad. While an adult will spend hours trying to figure out how to use an app, a kid can pick an iPad and have it playing tunes on the Disney site in 20 seconds.

After many years, I’m still trying to learn to use my iPhone. The only good thing to report is that my texting skills are getting better. Now that I have figured out the phone can spell better than I can, it’s become a lot easier. It fixes all my mistakes and just keeps going.

The iPads and iPhones have all sorts of sophisticated iGames on them that are downloaded off iTunes, for example, “Pop the Bubble Wrap.” Now that’s an intellectual game that can hold your attention. And you don’t even have to buy new bubble wrap when all the bubbles are popped.

My daughter was excited when she found out that my Wi-Fi connection downloaded games really fast. She filled up her phone with games figuring she could transfer them to an old iPod when she got home and give it to the girls instead of letting them play with her iPhone. Of course, the iPod idea didn’t work out all that well. Since there are two kids, they now each have a toy and mom still doesn’t have one.

I really don’t understand the attraction of having a telephone that doubles as an electronic toy. I’m sure I must be missing out on something very important by not downloaded music or games. I’m so far behind the times that I don’t even know what that something is. Sometimes I even enter the number instead using my directory or the voice app. I do use the touch pad instead of a rotary dial, so don’t laugh too hard.

I know how to post on Facebook, though, and with my new text messaging skills, I can almost pass for cool. I managed to fool the “Guess Your Age” game on my daughter’s phone into thinking I am forty-six, even though I don’t watch the Simpsons. It was either the fact that I send several text messages a day or that I eat a large number of hamburgers. Who would think that eating hamburgers is a way to stay young?

I must admit that finger painting with an IPad has advantages over letting kids paint with the real stuff. I really don’t understand why you need a computer to pay tic-tac-toe, though. I guess it is like a lot of things, it is done with a computer only because it can be done.

The worse, absolutely worse, game, however, is one of the children’s favorites. The name alone is enough to convince me that I don’t want it on my iPhone. The only skill required is a fast thumb and a strong stomach. It is called “Smash the Ants”.

Copyright 2011 Sheila Moss

Posted in Humor, Technology | Tagged , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Letter to the Car

Posted on June 3, 2021 by Sheila Moss


Dear Car,

Can we talk? You and I need to have a little discussion. You seem to be having a lot of problems lately. Is there something wrong that I don’t know about? Every time I turn around, you seem to have another ailment.

I know the nail in your tire was not your fault, but you could be a little more careful and watch where you are going so you do not pick up nails. I thought we could get it patched up and you would be okay, but that seems not to be the case. A major tire transplant was not in my budget for this month.

Then there is the matter of the turn signal light going out. Please. How many times have I told you not to be winking at other cars, even if they are cute little sports models? The turn light is to use only when turning or changing lanes on the Interstate. And now your other turn light has gone out too. I give up!

I have been very good to you, car. I’ve had your oil and filter changed every 3,000 miles, all your fluids checked, and given you anything else you needed. You have had no major mechanical problems or nervous breakdowns. And you still look hot, much younger than your actual mileage.

Remember you have over 100,000 miles on you. Even though you look good, your parts are not what they used to be. I don’t want you to get the idea that you have earned the right to do as you please. If these minor ailments continue, I may have to consider garaging you.

Your tendency to refuse to shift into reverse is also beginning to be annoying. I know you think it is amusing, but I am not laughing. It is starting to get on my nerves. If you think I’m going to go out and get you a new transmission, you can forget it. So, you might as well stop the funny stuff and quit being so shiftless.

I know you need to have the window fixed that will not roll down, but it will be a major operation. It is just one of those things that happen when you get a little older. We all start to have a few aches and pains and things that don’t work exactly right. May I remind you that we could have had the window fixed, but we had to get a new tire instead?

I guess that’s about enough. You need to realize that you are getting older and quit trying to live life in the fast lane. Your premium gasoline has gone to your heads. I’m not sure how much longer I can afford to keep you around, especially if you continue to have these mechanical problems all the time.

I just wanted to put you on notice. You are not getting the custom wax job that you wanted. However, I did buff out those scratches on your rear-view mirrors that you got trying to squeeze into a garage that is too small for you.

Remember, you need to go to the car wash on a regular basis and clean the bugs off your windshield. That cheap air freshener that you had after your last visit to the car wash was a bit much, though.

So, that is about all I have to say to you right now. We’ve been through many close calls together. I might even get you an alignment the next time your oil is changed just to show there are no hard feelings.

But, please, take care of yourself and slow down a bit. Read the owner’s manual and take its advice. You can go many more miles before it is time to re-tire.


Sincerely,
The Owner

Copyright 2011 Sheila Moss

Posted in Automotive, Humor | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 7 Comments

The Case of the Missing Toenail

Posted on May 30, 2021 by Sheila Moss



When it comes to minor ailments, I’m always trying to figure out “Why me?” usually while applying Neosporin and a Band-Aid.

As soon as I bought those cute new sandals, Murphy’s Law kicked in. If you buy a new pair of sandals and spend an hour giving yourself a pedicure, you can pretty much count on something bad happening.

I put on my cute new sandals and wiggled my five little piggies only to notice to my horror that one of my piggies was turning purple. I tried soaking it in Epsom salt and warm water. I promised to return the sandals and wear only crocks if only the toe would return to being its own pink self.

But it soon became obvious that a podiatrist was in my future.

I checked the Yellow Pages before it occurred to me that the Yellow Pages might not be the best way to find a doctor. So I called the Physician’s Referral service of my insurance company and after spending an hour on hold and being transferred several times, they finally gave me the name of the same podiatrist that I had found in the Yellow Pages.

I called and made an appointment. Of course, I had already looked it up on Google and found that black toenails come from injuries to the base of the toenail and there is nothing you can do about it except go to a doctor or let it fall off.

By the time I filled out all the paper work at the doctor’s office and found out about all the horrible foot deformities that I did not have and had never heard of, I was feeling pretty healthy and was wondering what I was doing there. A large lady in tennis shoes sat across from me glaring as if she knew I was taking up the doctor’s time for something insignificant.

Before I could escape, however, the receptionist grabbed my insurance card, and the nurse whisked me into a back room where I was told to remove my shoes and sit on the chair that reminded me vaguely of a dentist chair. I looked behind me and saw no drills, so I must be in the right place.

I thought perhaps they planned to steal my shoes when I wasn’t looking so I couldn’t run out the back door. I kept an eye on my shoes and waited for them to soak my feet and trim my nails, like they do at the nail salon. But apparently they didn’t know about pedicures.

The doctor came in and glanced at my sick toe briefly then informed me, “The toenail needs to come off.”

Wait a minute. I need all my parts. I hadn’t planned on surgery. “Won’t it come off by itself?” I asked.

“That is not an option,” he huffed.”You don’t want it to get infected.”

He gave me a couple of shots in the toe to numb it. “This is the worst part,” he said. I knew the man had dentist genes. There is always a needle the size of a jack hammer lurking somewhere.

“It is loose already,” he said.

Yes, that is what the dentist said, I thought, right before I kicked a hole in the ceiling.

I don’t remember what happened after that. I couldn’t look and I don’t want to remember. When I came back to earth, my toenail was missing and the nurse was bandaging my toe and telling me that it would grow back and only be sore for a few days.

I wondered how I would get my shoes back on over my fat toe, but I was high motivated to get out of there before he decided to remove anything else. So I jamed the shoe on and hobbled out the door.

“Do you come back in two weeks?” asked the receptionist.

“No, he said he does not want to see me again unless I have a problem.”

That makes us even. I don’t want to see him again either.

Copyright 2011 Sheila Moss

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

The Only Good Bug is a Dead Bug

Posted on May 25, 2021 by Sheila Moss

Spring is here. Flowers are blooming, leaves are sprouting, and grass is growing. Oh, the freshness of it all. I love it — except for one thing – bugs.

Insects are everywhere. I know some of them are harmless. Others are supposed to be useful, bees, for example, pollinate flowers. But what was God thinking when he created some of these tiny tormentors?

It seems you can’t really get rid of the bad bugs without also getting rid of the good ones. And the bad bugs are trying to ruin my life. Why, why is it that the bugs will not leave me alone?

I had a tick on me the other day — a TICK! What other woman gets bitten by a stupid tick? I don’t know where it came from, but it bit me on the bottom of my big toe, leaving a lump the size of a pea and an itch like a bee sting. I rushed to the Internet to see what horrible diseases I could come down with.

And there are disgusting tent caterpillars in my crabapple tree. If I don’t get rid of them, they will damage the tree. If the limb they are on is small, I just cut it off and throw away the entire mess. If they are on a big limb, the nest has to be opened and they crawl left and right trying to escape. The entire business is just too gross to talk about.

So far, these are my only two major bug assaults this year. But the season is young. I still have mosquitoes to look forward to. Mosquitoes love me, but the feeling is not mutual! They flock to me. While other people get one bite, I get dozens of itching burning lumps of fire.

And there are chiggers; did I mention chiggers? They are even worse than mosquitoes. These are tiny bugs that you can’t even see, but they live in the grass and jump onto your legs and feet and bite you. What possible reason is there for such a onery bug to exist?

I ask you, what is the purpose of a wasp? Bees I can somewhat understand, but wasps? They will build a nest somewhere they don’t belong before the end of summer. I’ve learned to respect their turf since one flew into a rage and stung me with no provocation at all. These evil tempered bugs should be on Prozac.

I no longer have a garden. What’s the use when the bugs eat it up before you can? Each insect seems to specialize in one particular plant, cut worms on tomatoes, potato beetles, corn caterpillars and cabbage moths. Where do they come from and how do they find out about your tiny plot of earth?

Flies, filthy flies. My trash cans are spotless and the lids are tight. I rake up the spoiled fruit under the apple tree. Still they come; they zoom around waiting for the door to open so they can buzz inside and aggravate me until I can chase them down with a swatter.

Termites tried to eat my house one year. They swarmed the living room like ants with wings. I nearly had a heart attack until I could call the exterminator to eradicate them. That little adventure cost me a small fortune and continues to cost every year as they return and try to whittle my home into a toothpick.

There are so many others: bagworms on the evergreens, spiders in the azaleas, crickets around the foundation, moths swarming the porch light, and fleas attacking the pets. They say insecticides are dangerous. I say nay, nay. Kill ’em before they multiply.

Why can’t insects be nice like butterflies, fireflies, and lady bugs? I might actually be able to enjoy spring for a change if only the bugs would quit bugging me.

Copyright 2011 Sheila Moss

Posted in Creatures, Humor | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | 5 Comments

The Covered Dish Luncheon

Posted on May 22, 2021 by Sheila Moss

Ever so often we had a covered-dish luncheon at the office to break the monotony of endless work. Sometimes they were themed, although usually not. One of the themed ones was the famous chili cook-off that I forgot about until the last minute. I bought canned chili at Walmart and warmed it in a crockpot after I got to work. No one knew it was not homemade. My canned chili won the cook-off, but figured I’d better not say anything. They still don’t know. Don’t tell anyone.

This time our theme was “Eat Healthy.” I couldn’t think of anything healthy to bring, which shows what kind of food I eat. Finally, I decided that pimento cheese sandwiches on wheat bread would work. I used to make them for a ladies luncheon using three pieces of bread and then cutting each sandwich into four triangular pieces. I probably should have stuck to chili.

I forgot how much trouble it is to make a bunch of sandwiches. I had to get up an hour early to spread cheese on bread while trying to keep my eyes open. An hour early is pretty early since I normally got up at 5 o’clock. Anyhow, I finally got all the stupid sandwiches made. Remind me to never sign up for sandwiches again.

You might know that it would be pouring down rain when I had a big tray of food to carry. Try and balance food and a heavy umbrella without dropping something or getting wet. I asked Morris to drop me off near the door so I didn’t have to walk the entire 10 miles from the garage. Actually, the garage is only across the street, but it might as well be 10 miles when you are carrying 20 pounds of stuff and trying to wade across a busy street in pouring rain.

I guess it could have been worse though. For instance, yesterday morning we were out of cat food and the cats were screaming, the gas tank was empty, and I was getting low tire pressure warnings because there was a nail in my tire. When I finally got to work — late because of having to buy gas — I realized I had forgotten the pass for the parking garage. So, I had to pay $10 to park.

As I said, it could have been worse. At least I didn’t have to bring food yesterday.

Of course, we had so much food at lunch that it didn’t matter whether I brought anything at all or not. Only about half the sandwiches were eaten. I was not about to haul the leftovers back home. I decided to leave them in the office fridge for Monday. By then people would be hungry again and there would not be so much other food to compete with.

I guess it was worth the hassle. We decorated the conference room with all the luau decorations that I had bought at the dollar store to use on the bulletin board. It was festive. We had some leis left over from something else and passed those out. As one girl said, the only thing missing was a Pina Colada. Well, no one did the hula either, but as old and fat as most of us are, that is probably a good thing.

The food was… well… healthy. I hope we don’t do healthy again. I think everyone was ready for another unhealthy luncheon. Next time I will volunteer to bring apple cider or something easy that doesn’t require getting up at 4 o’clock to fix. I was afraid to try the canned chili thing again. That was a one-time thing done in desperation.

There was only one problem with healthy food, besides the presence of vitamins and absence of flavor. It is like Chinese food. Ten minutes later and we were all hungry again. 

Copyright 2011 Sheila Moss

Posted in Humor | 13 Comments

Gas Shortage in Southeast US

Posted on May 11, 2021 by Sheila Moss

Embed from Getty Images

Previously published 2008-2016. Here we go again, folks. 

“An oil pipeline outage and fear of a gas shortage in Middle Tennessee,” media reported. Everyone was urged to maintain normal driving and fuel purchases to prevent unavailability.

PANIC!

Immediately phones started ringing, people started calling other people and posting about the shortage on social media. Everyone jumped in their car and sped to the gas station – just in case there might be a shortage.

PANIC!

Lines grew; other people saw the lines and figured something must be going on.  So, they got in the line too.  After all, if there was going to be a gas shortage, they wanted to be sure their tank was full.

PANIC!

People who didn’t actually need gas decided to top off their tanks.  Rednecks cleaned out all the gas cans in their garages and filled them up with gas.

PANIC!

Sure enough, gas stations started running out of gas.  What a surprise!

PANIC!

People who actually needed gas couldn’t get gas.  Gas pumps were covered with plastic bags at station after station. You can tell which stations are sold out because they are the ones that don’t have a line.

PANIC!

People start calling gas stations looking for gas. Gas stations ordered gas, but couldn’t get it delivered fast enough.  If a tanker was spotted on the highway, motorists followed it and flocked like flies to the station getting gas.  Lines backed up on roadways and tempers flared as traffic was blocked.

PANIC!

More gas was used driving around looking for gas and sitting in line waiting for gas than for actually driving. When regular gas ran out, people went to premium, so it was quickly drained too.

People bought extra cans of gas and carried them around in the trunk of their cars.  Gasoline is like dynamite that could go off in a confined area if vapors ignite. Catastrophe was riding around the city waiting to happen.

So far, no fireballs have been reported.

Entrepreneurs filled gas cans and sold gas at an inflated price to people who didn’t have any. For $5, extra they told them where they got it.

Price gouging at gas stations was widely reported, and a hotline set up to report it, but nothing was done about violators as far as anyone can tell.

AAA reported that the crisis would be over by next weekend.  Why ask AAA?  They give maps, directions and make reservations. They are a travel agency, not experts on economics or the marketplace.

They also are not experts on human behavior.

We were running on fumes before we found gas and then paid an inflated price per gallon.  At first I thought the station was sold out since there was no line. When I saw the prices, however, I knew why they didn’t have a line.

Eventually stations will begin to get gas deliveries and lines will become shorter. Most everyone will have filled up already by then– not to mention the stockpiles of gasoline in rusty gas cans all over the city.  This city could go off like the Fourth of July.

The media is trying to calm the panic by reporting that there is plenty of gasoline if people will not panic and run to gas stations like a bunch of lemmings just because every one else does.

Telling people not to panic is a sure way to create panic. Watch out! They could stampede for the gas pumps at any minute.

©2008-2021 Sheila Moss
Updated

Posted in Automotive, Humor, News & Current Events | Tagged , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

What’s Cooking?

Posted on May 11, 2021 by Sheila Moss


It seems every time I turn on the TV, someone is cooking something. I don’t really want any cooking lessons. Been there — done that — as the saying goes.
 
Some people lament that they can’t cook. I guess it would worry me if I couldn’t boil water without burning the pot, but since I do know how, it doesn’t matter. In case you care, the way to keep a pot from burning is to watch it. The old adage about a “watched pot” is absolutely true.
 
On TV the expert cooks are always burning things, leaving them raw, or not timing things right to be ready with the rest of the meal.
 
Timing is everything and one of the hardest things to learn. I’ve had my share of burned beans, lumpy gravy, and raw chicken. Somehow cooking food correctly pales in comparison to getting the mashed potatoes and gravy done at the same time.
 
If you are persistent in your efforts, sooner or later things will come together and you will learn to cook. Thank goodness when I was a young bride, my husband was willing to eat all my mistakes and not complain. I think he figured if you can’t do better, don’t criticize.
 
Now I prefer to cook dishes with only three ingredients, or packaged and frozen. Somehow when you know you can cook if you have to, it doesn’t seem as important.
 
I remember taking a home economics class in school at some point of life. We learned to make a basic white sauce, something like white gravy. The home ec teacher told us white sauce is basic and any good cook needed to know how to make it. Funny, I don’t remember ever having to a need to cook a white sauce since that class.
 
Microwave cooking was probably the downfall of real, stovetop food. Everything is instant. It can be done the old way with flour, salt, measuring cups and hours in preparation. But why??
 
Some people call themselves gourmet cooks and take great pride in cooking hard-to-succeed dishes. Somehow I always get the feeling that they seldom cook meals. They are not in for the long haul, meal after meal, day after day. Long-term cooking sucks the pleasure right out of you.
 
Some men like to cook. My honey lived single for a long time, but suddenly he has forgotten everything he ever knew and depends on me to cook. He claims he lived all those single years on hot dogs.
 
My recipe books have yellowed pages and are seldom used. If I really need a recipe for anything, I look it up on the internet. Some of my best recipes, and the only ones I use now, came from a microwave cooking class. I didn’t learn much about microwave cooking there.
 
Some of my friends tell me that if it doesn’t have the magic word “microwavable” on it, they don’t buy it. I’m not quite that bad but I do find myself turning to instant food more often. Women work outside the home now and don’t have hours to slave away fixing homemade food.
 
So, if you are hungry and want a good, homemade meal, come on over and see me.  I’ll take you to Cracker Barrel. You can pay the tab.

Copyright 2011 Sheila Moss

Posted in Food, Humor | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

Facebook Syndrome

Posted on May 4, 2021 by Sheila Moss

Facebook is the most visited site on the internet. Over 2.80 billion people are regular users and half of them visit every day to post, network, socialize, or play games. Have you become addicted to Facebook? Can you really stop using Facebook any time you want or have you traded social networking for social dysfunction?


Are You Addicted?

If Facebook is the homepage on your computer, you might be addicted to Facebook.
If you know the difference between your news feed and your page feed, you might be addicted to Facebook.
If you think social networking is a good way to make friends, you might be addicted to Facebook.
If you frequently check your smart phone for Facebook updates, you might be addicted.
If you think 5000 friends are not enough, you might be addicted to Facebook.
If you play Farm Heroes, Candy Crush, or Criminal Case, you might be addicted to Facebook.
If you “like” your own posts, you might be addicted to Facebook.
If you have an app that posts your blog to Facebook, you might be addicted.
If you know the difference between a News Feed and a Page Feed, you might be addicted.
If you feel hurt when your friends don’t tag you in photos, you might be addicted to Facebook.
If you read every one of the email notifications from Facebook, you might be addicted.
If anyone has unfriended you for excessive posting, you might be addicted to Facebook.
If you have invited friends you don’t know, you might be addicted to Facebook.
If you think Facebook friends are actually real friends, you might be addicted.
If you have ever said, “Not right now, I’m on Facebook, you might be addicted.
If you think about Facebook even when you are not logged in, you might be addicted.
If you send birthday wishes to all your Facebook friends, you might be addicted.
If you spend more than one hour a day on Facebook, you might be addicted.
If you try to find old classmates from high school on Facebook, you might be addicted.
If you use Facebook to invite people to your social events, you might be addicted.
If you are frequently late because you are on Facebook, you might be addicted.
If you take pictures of your food and post it on Facebook, you might be addicted.
If you update your status more than several times a day, you might be addicted to Facebook.
If you understand what all of this stuff is, you might be addicted to Facebook.

If only a few of these are true, you are probably okay and don’t have to worry. On the other hand, if you are like the rest of us, better get on the wagon to recovery.


Twelve Steps of Facebook Anonymous

1. We admitted we were powerless over Facebook – that our friend list had become unmanageable.
2. Came to believe that giving up social networking could restore us to sanity.
3. Made a decision to turn our News Feed over to the posts of others.
4. Made a searching and fearless inventory of our Facebook posts and comments.
5. Admitted to God, ourselves, and in a Facebook post the exact extent of our addiction.
6. Were entirely ready to have all our passwords deleted.
7. Humbly removed all our photos.
8. Made a list of all the friends we don’t know personally and became willing to unfriend them.
9. Unfriended people wherever possible, except when to do so would embarrass them or others.
10. Continued to take inventory of our posts and if we were posting too frequently, promptly admit it.
11. Sought through personal contact to improve our face-to-face relationships with real people, asking only for the willpower to avoid checking in on Facebook.
12. Having had an awakening as the result of these steps, you tried to carry this message to other Facebook addicts… and immediately decided the best way to do this was by posting about your recovery on Facebook.


SERENITY PRAYER FOR FACEBOOK USERS

Lord, help me to post about the things that matter, to comment on the opinions I cannot change, and the wisdom to know what to “like.”


Copyright 2011 Sheila Moss
http://www.humorcolumnist.com

Posted in Entertainment, Humor, Technology | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | 3 Comments

Out, Please!

Posted on April 28, 2021 by Sheila Moss




Don’t you love elevators? I thought so. Nearly everyone seems to have some apprehension, but we use them anyway, mostly out of necessity. Have you noticed the obnoxious people you see in elevators? Obnoxious people never know they are obnoxious.

First, there is the impatient person who jumps on the elevator in front of you, even though you have been patiently waiting for 10 minutes. Do they think they will get to their floor quicker by pushing on first?
 
There are the button pushers who continue to push the button over and over when waiting as if that will make the elevator come faster. Sometimes they push both the up and down button. Maybe they think all the elevators are all going only one-way?
 
People who get off at lower floors always are in the back of the elevator and everyone has to move to let them off. Conversely, people who are not getting off until the top floor always stand immediately in front of the door so they are in the way of anyone trying to get off. It’s funny how this works.
 
Some people like to drive and stand as close as possible to the buttons so it is difficult for other people to push the buttons. Sometimes they ask, “What floor?” so they can push the button for you. Other times they just like being in the driver’s seat, not the actual driving.
 
Some elevators are incredibly slow. You may have cobwebs falling off of you before this elevator for turtles finally arrives. The elevator in my parking garage is in this category. Other elevators are so fast that you have to run or the door will slam in your face. I’ve nearly lost my nose several times when visiting the local hospital.
 
Some people are polite and will hold the elevator if it arrives and you are almost there. Other people jump on and get in the corner so they can pretend they didn’t see you coming. Sometimes a person tries to be polite, but hits the “close door” button instead of the “open door.”
 
Elevator people with big behinds crowd into your space or bump you with backpacks. Even worse are the people with wet umbrellas that drip into your shoes, clothes saturated with toxic tobacco odor, or people who cough and sneeze.
 
Some people are so social they cannot shut up long enough to ride an elevator. These are the people that hold the door open and finish a conversation with someone in the lobby. If both are getting on, they continue the conversation with each other as if everyone is interested.
 
Other social butterflies use cell phones on the elevator. They get on while talking, or answer the phone if it rings. There are also the text senders and the internet browsers who can’t resist the opportunity to show off their new iPhone.
 
If you have to ride to a top floor, it is a sure thing that everyone else is going to a floor below you. Some elevators in high-rise buildings go to only the higher floors while other elevators are designated for the lower floors. This is supposed to get the upper floor people up faster. It only works when you get on the right elevator, of course.
 
Many elevators are not reliable. You can stand and wait an eternity before you figure out it isn’t coming. However, that is better than getting on, having the door close and the elevator not move. And, we have all heard of elevators that get stuck, God forbid, between floors.
 
Older hotels may have elevators that skip the number 13. I guess they don’t realize that ghosts know the 14th floor is really the 13tth and will haunt it instead. Buildings may also add unconnected wings and you can end up on the right floor but can’t get to where you are going.

Anyhow, I’ve reached my floor and have nothing more to say except “Out, please.”


Copyright 2011 Sheila Moss
Photo by Fred Kleber on Unsplash
 

 

Posted in Humor, Work Humor | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 11 Comments

The Anniversary Quilt

Posted on April 26, 2021 by Sheila Moss



About twenty-five years ago, my parents celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary. Mother wanted to have a party and invite all her friends. When mom and dad married, they eloped and were married at a courthouse in South Carolina. Maybe she thought having a reception to celebrate 50 years of marriage would make up for the wedding she never had.

It was a grand anniversary party, held at a restaurant with food, decorations and music. My sister spent hours blowing up helium balloons and tying them with long streaming ribbons. Everyone came: all their friends, neighbors, and people that mom and dad knew after 50 years together. My nephews are musicians and they provided live musical entertainment. Everyone agreed; it was a marvelous occasion.

Mom and dad didn’t really want gifts at their party, they said. After all, what do you need after 50 years of marriage? But people brought gifts anyhow. When I first found out about the anniversary party, I knew what I wanted to give them, a double wedding-ring quilt. A double wedding-ring quilt was perfect for the occasion.

I also had another reason for the quilt. My great grandmother had made a double wedding-ring pattern quilt for my mother years ago. Mother loved that quilt and used it on the bed for years and years until there was nothing left of it but tatters. According to my mother, my great-grandma said the quilt was so difficult to make that she would never give away, except to my mother, who was her favorite grandchild.

My grandmother made quilts too. I remember the quilting frame in her house with a half done quilt she was working on. She even let me help a time or two. Probably she had to take out my stitching later, but she allowed me to think I was quilting. Her quilts were mostly the nine-square pattern, however, more utilitarian for everyday use.

In the olden days, quilts were made entirely by hand. Women displayed their creativity and sewing skills with the quilts they made. Some were so intricate that they are now considered works of art and are in museums. There are numerous patterns for quilts, both traditional and modern. The traditional wedding-ring pattern has overlapping circles or rings of pieced fabric, usually on a white background.

There is no way I could ever make a quilt, even a simple one, but there is a quilt shop in the mountains of East Tennessee that sells quilts made by hand by crafters that carry on the traditions of olden times. Out of the hundreds of quilts, I searched until I found the perfect quilt with circles of gold and shades of brown, the double wedding-ring pattern.

It seems that quilts often have stories, probably because the finest quilts are handmade and sometimes passed from generation to generation. Quilts are now made by machine and look as good, or better, than the old fashioned ones, but they are not the same as the hand crafted quilt.

Years passed by after the anniversary. Mother and daddy grew old and went to a nursing home. Their possessions had to be removed so the house could be sold. Among their things was the quilt — still like new. I remember seeing it a time or two folded on the foot of the bed, but apparently it had been put away and saved. Mother had a tendency to save things that were too nice or too pretty to use.

I have the quilt at home on my bed now. I am not going to save it; I am going to use it. It reminds me of my parents and of all the years they have been together. They celebrated another anniversary this year in the nursing home, still together in sickness and in health, after 75 years of marriage.

Copyright 2011 Sheila Moss

Posted in Family, Holidays, Humor | Tagged , , , , , , | 8 Comments