The Latest from Aunt Ira Mae…

 

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Crawfish Manor

Well my dear, God’s waiting room continues to fill with most residents younger than me, instead of calling it a place for over 55 they should advertise over 85. But, Rosemary Wilson just wants this big old house filled up. Now you know that I am not trying to insult old people cause I will be ??? all too soon. Thank God there is a small elevator.  But independent should be used lightly here and it is cheaper than the nursing home over in Clinton.

Sorry that I have not written but I have been busy helping Mr. Roy in the “Pumpkin Patch” and have not told you the latest. A woman called Faith and very nice, a loner like myself lives across from me and stops when she sees me to catch me up. I find her gossiping odd as she goes to church every day, maybe that is why. She said her neighbor whom I renamed, “Smelly Bob”, was in the Clinton Hospital with a leg problem that may put him in a wheelchair.

She ask if I might be willing to stop by and say hello, apparently Smelly Bob, eighty-seventy years old had no nearby friends, his children lived several states away and he was alone. I said that I would .

Wednesday I stopped by on my way to the gym, I failed to ask Faith his last name and I did not think it appropriate to go to the information booth and ask if they could give me the room number of Smelly Bob!

I described him, where he was from and his condition, apparently they knew Smelly Bob!

When I walked into the room, he was in a lounge chair, hospital gown on and blanket over his lap. I reminded him of my living in the Manor; he smiled and acknowledged me. I went over and looked out the window making a comment on the view he had of a small lake. When I turned around the blanket was lying on the floor, bandaged legs exposed, gown pulled up to his hips, the view…nothing to brag about! I quickly excused myself saying I was late to a gym class and that I had promised Faith I would stop by, wishing him well, I skedaddled from the room.

Yesterday, the Warden came to my door saying that the gathering room was “a buzz” as she called it, with my romance with Smelly Bob. Keeping a straight face, I told her that I would be down soon to share everything.

When I got there the room was filled with several old women and one man, she must have them all on speed dial. The man said that Smelly Bob had called him saying that I had drove all the way to Clinton just to see him, that I had a crush on him and when he was dismissed from the hospital that we were going away for the week-end. Have I mentioned that this old man cannot walk let alone #$%&. No doubt, misperception, dementia is rampant at the Manor.

When I walked into their gathering place, I explained that Smelly Bob was lying and as I walked away I turned saying “My fellow inmates as I like to call you…since I am certain that each of you have already formed your own opinion let me say this, you are all assuming that I like men”? Mouths fell open, and I walked out of a very quiet room.

I am certain that I have them totally confused . However, when I walked to the elevator going back to my apartment I heard Mouth say, “Well, we don’t like people who are not like us”, the silence broke, and the hen clucking begins. Well, I don’t like people like them either.  Old people, you gotta love them! Well, I am heading for the Pumpkin Patch with a bottle of “Jack”and will call or write before Thanksgiving.

Until I can get another email you have to know that my Aunt Ira Mae is a southerner who I sometimes refer to as “Mouth of the South”, I am certain that she goes for the shock and awe effect when talking to her neighbors.  11.14.2014 ajm

 

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Grief up close and personal…

In July of 2010, I lost two children, two days apart. I have been force to create a new life while living within the circle of my old life. There are three dreaded periods where I barely exist, the month of July, Thanksgiving and Christmas. In the beginning of July, I start my countdown for those feared dates; the holidays are shrouded in hidden sadness.

No two people grieve the same, mine is in silence; held within to be strong for my other children. I turned from my love of writing fiction and short stories to poetry. In poetry, I poured out my grief. It soon became an outlet for not only the loss of my children, but my life as it used to be. After publishing five books of poetry from 2010 to 2014 my well of words are still filled with sadness. Grieving remains hidden within me.

I have been to see doctors, on medications and to counseling on grief, which has not changed my pain and sadness, lived daily, in the quietness of self. I wanted to share my thoughts on grieving with my readers, not everyone can come back from losses in their lives. I have created a new existence, yet the old me lives close, right there under my outward self.

I want to share that time does not always heal. There is supposed to be a process but it does not work for many who have lost loved ones. Life after death for the living is a frenzied hell. The peaks and valleys of my life are never ending. The grieving never fades; it becomes covered by a mask that I wear.

There are many with more education, experience and well versed than I who have written “how to grieve and how to heal”; my contribution is from my own experience and I will say to you that time does not heal for everyone. I have tried to weave my grief within the tapestry of my life while living a new existence, it is difficult.

I understand that people do not know what to say to a grieving person, then do not say anything as nothing eases the pain. I have heard the following, which I cringe at the onset from the person who is trying to comfort me.

  • NUMBER 1 FOR ME… “God must have wanted them with him”.  Well this one hurts worse than all the others do; and God and I are still having long conversations about his needs over mine as a mother.
  • “God will not give you more than you can handle”.  Those who say this cannot fathom how wrong they are, imploding within a world of non-existence filled with grief cannot always be “handled”.
  • “You are handling your loss so well”.  My not screaming and crying does not mean that I am grieving less.
  • “You should be happy they are no longer suffering”.  Yes, I am happy they are not suffering, but understand that the suffering remains behind.
  • “Talking about you loss will only prolong your grief”.  I have found death and divorce are on the same level as far as no one wants to hear about it.  If you begin, a conversation on either the subject is changed quickly.  Most people do not want to hear about your pain or loss.
  • “I know how you feel”.  No, you do not, I have friends that have lost children, and we all agree that there is no way anyone can know how you feel.
  • “At least they were old enough to experience a full adult life”.  It does not matter if they are one hour old of in their fifties (as mine were), this statement is wrong on so many levels.
  • “It’s been years (five for me); it’s time to get over your loss”.  Few say this but the statement has been said to me…I have had to create a new existence but the old one lives in silence within me.

This entry is meant to be helpful in what not to say to a grieving person. It is to let people know that grief does not have a deadline. I have been told recently that much of my poetry is “dark”, well then you did get the reason for its creation. I will say that there is a small light in the corner of my world yet words of happiness rarely appear upon the blank pages of my creations. I continue to fight to emerge from the void of non-existence, but time is not on my side.

Remember when you approach someone that has lost a loved one, the old saying in relation to words is true “less is more”. A simple, “I am sorry for your loss” works for me.

In this coming season where sadness and happiness are intertwined like garland on the Christmas tree, to those of you who have experience the death of loved ones I am certain that you understand the reason for this entry. You are all in my thoughts and prayers.

For my Children

11.13.2014 ajm

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Filed under Grief, Life, Poetry, Thoughts, Words

Elouise Renich Fraser…

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Elouise Renich Fraser

 

What a joy to read the work of Elouise Renich Fraser…check out her blog and purchase her work at Amazon.com. ajm

 

Blog

http://tellingthetruth1993.wordpress.com/2014/11/12/what-about-the-women/#comment-823

At Amazon.com

http://www.amazon.com/Elouise-Renich-Fraser/e/B001KI7U22/

 

Who is she, Elouise Renich Fraser?  She would tell you…

First-born of four daughters, preacher’s kid, survivor

Musician, theologian, educator

Wife, mother, grandmother

Intuitive, reflective

Good girl-bad girl, God’s beloved daughter-child

Unpredictable, rebellious, stubborn, determined, sensitive, persistent

Sometimes courageous truth-teller

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REBLOGGING…’The Story of Hungry’…

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WE STILL NEED HELP FIGHTING HUNGER

Billy Shore

Founder and CEO, Share Our Strength

‘The Story of Hungry’

Posted: 11/06/2013 9:45 am EST   Updated: 11/06/2013 10:25 pm EST

Everyone has a story to tell. Unfortunately, for 16 million American children, that story is one of hunger.

We often discuss what hunger means for kids from an adult perspective — lower test scores, poorer health, a weakened ability to escape the cycle of poverty. But what does hunger mean to a child? To better explore this question — the one that is perhaps the most important question of all — we at the No Kid Hungry campaign turned to the art of storytelling.

To illustrate the fear and pain hunger causes a child, No Kid Hungry today will premiere “The Story of Hungry,” a short, animated film depicting hunger through the eyes of a young girl, on our website and on the Rachael Ray show.

To this young girl, her hunger is not focused on the fact that her grades will suffer, or that she doesn’t have the proper nutrition to grow. To her, hunger is scary and emotional. To her, “hungry is the meanest, ugliest monster you’ve ever seen.”

The good news is, we can change the story of hungry for our youngest generation. Making sure kids have access to school meals can make a huge difference. The No Kid Hungry campaign is working with partners across the country to rethink how school meals are served, whether in the classroom or on the go, which can change a child’s day, week and even her future.

You can help us change the story of hungry. Watch and share “The Story of Hungry” today, at storyofhungry.org, and start the conversation about how you can help end childhood hunger in your own community.

Together, we can make No Kid Hungry a reality in America.

“The Story of Hungry” was conceptualized by the CAA Foundation, the philanthropic arm of Creative Artists Agency, and was brought to life through the talents of Hornet Studios director Julia Potts, with contributions from music producer Justin Stanley, featuring the voices of Bess Frierson and No Kid Hungry national spokesperson and Academy Award-winner Jeff Bridges.

Reblogged 11.11.2014

 

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Thank you…

th2JSDIR32thTY74C5QXthVCMCFIBMSome of America’s  “Hero’s”, we must always remember them in our hearts.

 

Thank you for your support in reblogging the last post.  First, FEMA should never ask for refunds on money they have given to support those in need.  Second, as Americans we get more support during these disaster’s from private funding…we support and care for each other more than our government does.  Third, our support to other countries also comes from private funding, from the hearts of Americans; I see the numbers that our government gives but does it go to the right people, the people in need?  Time to get down off the soap box…but too many who are less fortunate are forgotten on a regular basis in the USA; they need our voices.  Thank you so much for visiting and reading Libretto.  11.10.2014  ajm

 

 

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PLEASE REBLOG IF YOU PROTEST THIS ACTION: NYC adult home residents asked to repay FEMA aid …

Really FEMA… here are just a few figures to look at:

American foreign aid by country statistics:

India – $124,485,000, China – $17,800,000, Russian Federation – $66,138,000, Iran – $472,060,000, Iraq – $472,060,000, Ukraine – $120,907,000, Myanmar – $38,527,000, Yemen – $545,699,000, Indonesia – $205,716,000, Turkmenistan – $11,074,000, Mexico – $178,189,000, Nicaragua – $24,462,000, Brazil – $24,340,000, South Africa – $571,135,000, Namibia – $103,218,000, Mozambique – $386,692,000, Ethiopia – $519,003,000, Libyan Arab Jamahiriya – $203,183,000, Niger – $17,540,000, Venezuela – $5,000,000, Peru – $99,837,000, Ecuador – $22,669,000, Chile – $1,400,000

A $2,486 REFUND…USA/ FEMA…SHAME ON YOU” !  11.9.2014 ajm

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NYC adult home residents asked to repay FEMA aid

The Associated Press – By DAVID B. CARUSO – Associated Press

NEW YORK (AP) — The residents of Belle Harbor Manor spent four miserable months in emergency shelters after Superstorm Sandy’s floodwaters surged through their assisted-living center on New York City’s Rockaway peninsula.

Now, the home’s disabled, elderly and mostly poor residents have a new headache: The Federal Emergency Management Agency has asked at least a dozen of them to pay back thousands of dollars in disaster aid.

Robert Rosenberg, 61, was among the Belle Harbor Manor residents who recently got notices from FEMA informing them that they had retroactively been declared ineligible for aid checks they received two years ago in the storm’s immediate aftermath. The problem, the letters said, was that the money was supposed to have been spent on temporary housing, but that never happened because the residents were moved from one state-funded shelter to another.

FEMA gave Rosenberg until Nov. 15 to send a refund check for $2,486 or file an appeal.

“We’re on a fixed income. I don’t have that kind of money!” said Rosenberg, who suffers from a spinal disability and other chronic health problems. He said he spent the aid money long ago on food and clothing, both of which were in short supply after the storm.

The demand letters are part of a broader FEMA effort to recover millions of dollars in aid payments that went to ineligible households, either because of errors, a misunderstanding of the rules or outright fraud.

The Associated Press reported in September that FEMA was scrutinizing 4,500 households it suspected had received improper payments. At that time, 850 had been asked to return a collective $5.8 million. The other cases were still under review.

The AP on Tuesday asked for updated numbers on the number of storm victims who had been asked to return money, but FEMA didn’t immediately provide them.

Data obtained through a previous public records request, however, showed that as of July 30, the agency was considering a recoupment action against 35 residents of assisted living facilities in the same part of Queens that is home to Belle Harbor Manor. Collectively, those residents had received $108,598, with most of that money intended to cover temporary housing. Five residents had also received aid to cover destroyed belongings.

After their chaotic evacuation, Belle Harbor Manor residents were initially taken to a huge evacuation center set up inside a Brooklyn armory, then spent a brief period sleeping four-to-a-room at a hotel in a crime-plagued neighborhood where they were advised not to go outside after dark.

The state then moved the residents, many of whom suffer from mild mental illnesses, to a halfway house on the grounds of a partly-abandoned psychiatric hospital in Queens, where they bunked on cots and were barred from having visitors in their rooms.

 

Rosenberg said the FEMA workers who urged him to apply for assistance during the period when residents were staying at the armory never explained that the money could only be used for housing.

“Everyone asked, ‘Do we have to pay this back later on? Is it a loan?’ They said, ‘No. It’s a gift from Obama,'” he said. “If I wasn’t eligible, then why give it to me in the first place? They knew we were living in an adult home. They knew our shelter was being paid for by the state. It’s not like we lied on the application.”

At the time, it wasn’t clear how long they would be in the shelter, or where they would go next.

FEMA spokeswoman Rafael Lemaitre said the agency was required by law to recoup improper payments but did not directly address the residents’ situation.

“FEMA remains committed to working with applicants and ensuring they have an understanding of the options available to resolve their debt, which includes making a payment, filling an appeal, requesting a compromise and establishing a payment plan,” he said.

More common types of FEMA recoupment actions involve households ineligible for assistance because their damaged properties were vacation homes or rental properties, or families that received extra payments because more than one household member had applied for assistance. FEMA also commonly recoups emergency aid payments for damage later covered by insurance.

Lawyers at MFY Legal Services, a legal aid group that has worked with adult home residents in the past, have offered to help Belle Harbor Manor residents with their appeals.

“Our position is that it would be an unbearable financial hardship and unjust,” to require the residents to repay the money, said MFY attorney Nahid Sorooshyari.

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I Got Mail…from Aunt Ira Mae!

The subject line read:  Met a nice man!  Then Ira Mae wrote the following:

Trying to bike in Hell Town is taking your life into your own hands. It is difficult to believe since there is only one street, Main, and two bridges to cross over. Of course, there are no bike lanes, riding down main even with it two or three cars is a sign of being brave.

A redheaded woman pulled out of the Crawfish Café in a 1966 baby blue Studebaker, mint condition, the last year they built that funny little car. She pulled out without looking, I put on brakes right before impact! BITCH…

As it turn out I would later find out that she is the preacher’s wife, a church located between Crawfish and Clinton the only church within miles, and I was later told that she leads the choir, reads hot romance novels during church service.

Then an old red Ford truck passed me, unlike the Studebaker it appeared to be held together with rust and baling wire. This pipe-smoking farmer I was also to find out grows pumpkins for Halloween and trees for Christmas, he carries to Clinton to sell on an old A&P lot. When he pulled out of his parking place in front of Wilson’s Drug and Hardware store he gave me a smile saying…“Wanna race”! I believe he found my “trike” funny. Yes, I found out a lot about him later.

Off he went like a snail, at the bottom of a hill about a mile out of town I could see the old truck turning onto a side road. I went down the winding road through the pumpkin patch took me in front of a country home out of a Norman Rockwell painting. There he sat, rocking back and forth next to a table with two cups of steaming coffee. Now is this fate?

“It’s strong and it’s hot, like I like my women…if I was young enough to still like women”. He winked and continued, “I’m Bill, and you’re that young thing that moved into Crawfish Manor. It is all over town about a southern lady.

He laughed so hard it was infectious. I said to him, “Mr. Bill , I’m no spring chicken, but frankly I don’t think God is ready for me and the devil would not know what to do with me”!   I sat down had the worst cup of coffee in my life and I believe that I may have found the best friend that I will probably have in my life.

Time for a moment with Jack and remembering to breathe damn’it. When you come over I will take you to the pumpkin/Christmas tree farm.

 

“Needless to say, I have to meet this Mr. Bill soon”. 11.7.2014   ajm

 

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On Sale at Amazon.com…

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IN SEARCH OF WORDS

 

Ann Johnson-Murphree Poetry Books – A Collection of Poetry

http://www.amazon.com/Sachet-Poetry-Adoration-Aspirations-Asylums/dp/1500483354/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1413302456&sr=8-1&keywords=ann+johnson-Murphree

http://www.amazon.com/Honeysuckle-Memories-Ann-Johnson-murphree/dp/150029070X/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&qid=1413302456&sr=8-3&keywords=ann+johnson-Murphree

http://www.amazon.com/Reflections-Poetry-Ann-Johnson-Murphree/dp/1500168645/ref=sr_1_4?ie=UTF8&qid=1413302456&sr=8-4&keywords=ann+johnson-Murphree

http://www.amazon.com/Beyond-Voices-Ann-Johnson-Murphree/dp/1500426709/ref=sr_1_5?ie=UTF8&qid=1413302456&sr=8-5&keywords=ann+johnson-Murphree

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Silva Avanzi Rigobellow…My opinion she cooks food to die for…

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Silva Avanzi Rigobello

What a beautiful lady and I can use my imagination to taste her wonderful food off the screen.  The following recipe I am going to try for Thanksgiving.  An English translation is at the bottom of the page for those who do not know Italian.  If you cannot translate either, go to Google Translation.  Bookmark and  visit her site often, you will see wonderful things to try. 

http://silvarigobello.com/

Also check out her on Amazon at: 

http://www.amazon.it/dp/8891111317

ajm

Bombe alla pesarese

Nel mio libro racconto che da ragazzina un anno sono andata coi miei genitori in villeggiatura a Pesaro, dove sono tornata in diverse occasioni anche da adulta.
Pesaro era una bella cittadina, con dintorni storici e paesaggistici molto interessanti, una cucina straordinaria, una discreta scelta di divertimenti serali e trattandosi di una vera città, offriva una mondanità balneare decisamente più soft ed elegante rispetto a quella più aggressiva e modaiola della limitrofa Riviera Romagnola.
Come dicevo la cucina Marchigiana è fantastica e non solo quella di pesce, che è sublime.
Non ho ancora dimenticato le famigerate “bombe”, (che assomigliano un po’ alle Uova alla Scozzese) gustate a casa di un’amica Pesarese, che sospetto venissero chiamate così non per la loro forma, ma piuttosto perché erano delle vere bombe caloriche.
Ma a quei tempi chi ci pensava: la cellulite allora era lontanissima dalle nostre menti e anche dai nostri glutei!
Quando la “nostalgia gastrica” che di tanto in tanto mi assale, diventa insopportabile, me le preparo e le assaporo con immenso piacere, persa nei ricordi dell’adolescenza felice e lontana.

Silva Avanzi Rigobello

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Faccio rassodare per 6 minuti 6 uova, le lascio raffreddare e le sguscio.
Preparo un impasto con 50 gr di grana grattugiato e 50 gr di pangrattato, 1/2 spicchio d’aglio, 1 cucchiaio di prezzemolo tritato, 150 gr di mortadella di Bologna passata al frullatore con 1 panino raffermo ammollato nel latte e strizzato, pochissimo sale e abbondante pepe nero.
Allineo 6 fettine sottili di prosciutto e su ognuna spalmo il composto, dividendolo equamente e le avvolgo con precisione intorno ad ogni uovo, ripiegando subito i lati verso l’interno, così in cottura il ripieno non esce.
Passo ogni “bomba” prima nella farina, poi in 2 uova sbattute con un po’ di latte, le faccio rotolare nel pangrattato, poi di nuovo nella miscela di uova e latte e ancora nel pangrattato facendolo aderire bene.
Le friggo in olio profondo ben caldo fino a quando non assumono un bel colore dorato.
Le servo indifferentemente calde o fredde e mi piacciono con la salsa di mirtilli e un’insalatina di rucola.

Le bombe dei miei ricordi di adolescente venivano fritte nello strutto, ma personalmente non ho una grande familiarità con questo grasso, quindi uso l’olio.
Non illudetevi, il vostro fegato vi odierà lo stesso!

ENGLISH TRANSLATION:

Bombs at Pesaro released on November 1, 2014

In my book story by one year old girl I went with my parents on holiday in Pesaro, where I returned on several occasions, even as an adult.

Pesaro was a beautiful town, with historical surroundings and very interesting landscape, extraordinary cuisine, a good choice of evening entertainment and being a real city, offered a much more mundane Beach soft and elegant compared to the more aggressive and trendy of the nearby Adriatic coast.

As I said, the Marches cuisine is fantastic and not just to fish, which is sublime. I have not forgotten the infamous “bombs”, (which resemble a little Scottish eggs) feast at the home of a friend, whom I suspect were Italian named not for their form, but rather because they were true caloric bombs.

However, at that time who thought about cellulite; then far from our minds and our buttocks!

When the “gastric nostalgia” that occasionally I axle, becomes unbearable, I am me and tasted with great pleasure, lost in memories of adolescence and happy.

Do I firm up to 6 minutes 6 eggs, leave to cool and the swoop. Prepare a mixture with 50 gr of grated Parmesan and 50 gr of breadcrumbs, 1/2 clove of garlic, 1 tablespoon of chopped parsley, 150 grams of mortadella di Bologna passed to Blender with 1 stale bread soaked in milk and wrung out, very little salt and plenty of black pepper.

True 6 thin slices of ham on each spread the mixture, dividing it equally and accurately wrap around each egg, folding the sides inward, so cooking the stuffing doesn’t come out.

Each step “bomb” first in flour, then in 2 beaten eggs with milk, I roll in breadcrumbs, then again in the mixture of eggs and milk and bread crumbs it adhere well.

The FRY in deep hot oil until they are golden brown. Serve either hot or cold and I like the cranberry sauce and an Arugula Salad.

The bombs of my teenage memories were fried in lard, but personally, I do not have a great familiarity with this fat, and then use the oil. Make no mistake about, your liver will hate you the same!

 

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A Happy Halloween call from Aunt Ira Mae…

 

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Crawfish Manor

Received a call from Aunt Ira Mae today, she has decided that the old folks at Crawfish Manor does not have enough to do on a day-to-day basis, accept to pry into other folks business.  I said to her you might need to stop and think that most elderly people are not like you (she is well into her 90’s and acts like 50); many are hard of hearing or cannot see well.

She screamed into the phone. ”Hard of hearing, do not be fooled by that, they can hear a fly fart at one-hundred yards. Every time I opened my door to take out boxes that I have unpacked, no less than ten heads all sporting curly blue hair pops out to look at me as I walk down the hallway’.

Then she continued to say. “Don’t get me wrong, I have white hair…I just don’t think having it short and spiked went over too well, and I am certain that being bare foot and braless did not get me any points, and no, “the girls” were not bouncing off my knees. When God called out who wants “Big Breast”, I thought he said, “Big Test” and I ran the other way”!

Aunt Ira Mae no doubt irritated but laughing continued with…

“With the unpacking done, I decided to go for a bike ride (she has a three wheel adult trike). There I was on the elevator with the bike, a man and woman got on with me before the door could close. The man looked at me and said loudly, “Do you go to church”? I smiled and said “No”; he got louder, “Don’t you believe in God”? I smiled and said “Yes”, I knew what was coming next…”People who believe in God go to church”! His wife said loudly, “You’re going to hell”! I smiled and said, “Yes mam, I may be going there, and you and your husband don’t forget to say hi when you see me, ya hear”! I still don’t know their names; I call them the Church People”!

Well what can I say, I feel sorry for the other residents of Crawfish Manor. Ira Mae is a true southern character that you either love or hate. I am certain that when she got off the phone she told herself while pouring her shot of “Jack”, breathe damn’it.

 

10.31.2014 Happy Halloween ajm

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