Snoopy's Blog

Have you ever seen a live Giant Panda? Few of us have, and, unless recent efforts to save this beautiful animal from extinction succeed, even fewer people in future generations will ever lay eyes on one, because Giant Pandas are among the most seriously endangered species alive today.

Today I will be attending my brother-in-law’s funeral. We drove about 400 miles yesterday to get to this small Oregon town where the funeral will be held so we had lots of time for remembering.

It probably will not be a sad day for my brother-in-law has been a quadriplegic for more than 35 years. My sister has had the total care of him in that time and deserves some kind of special award in Heaven for her patience and caring spirit.

Children love to open a present and find some kind of coin bank and a roll or two of coins for them to deposit into the slot of their new bank. They especially love banks where they can see inside so they can watch as the pile of coins grows with each new addition.

As an adult, I still enjoy watching my savings grow no matter how slowly they pile up. An excellent way to see that happen is to invest in silver, gold, or other precious metals.

I'm serious. In the last 5 years, I have probably trashed more printers, cameras, computers, and software than anyone on the face of the earth.

Many years ago, before my electronic busting illness set in, I had an HP Deskwriter. It was wonderful and lasted for many years with nary a problem. Then, because I jammed the paper a couple of times, I decided to take it in for an overhaul--after all, it was older than my dog, who was approaching 80 in human years. I just thought it might appreciate a new lease on life.

I read a blog today where the writer made the statement, "Now that the election is finally over, we can sit back and take a gleeful look at the antics of the Republicans..."

My first thought was, "Gleeful? What was there about the antics of the Republicans or the Democrats that would qualify as being gleeful?"

I guess my glee meter isn't as easily stoked as those of other people, for I found the nasty comments coming from both sides to be equally despicable and hardly gleeful. Neither were honest and above board as they should have been.

Earlier today, I posted a blog entry lamenting the fact that my favorite trail mix snack had shrunk in size at the same time it was rising dramatically in price.

Today, while shopping in a local store that specializes in bulk foods, it occured to me that I could make my own trail mix. Kind of a do-it-myself project to insure that I would always have some of that great, yummy, AND healthy trail mix at my finger tips.

I love trail mix. At least I used to love trail mix. For quite sometime I had noticed subtle changes in my favorite brand of trail mix, but out of habit, I continued to grab a bag whenever I shopped at a store that stocked them.

Then I noticed that the size of the already small bag Iusually purchased, was shrinking. 14 ounces, 12 ounces, 8 ounces, and finally a measley 6 ounces. If only the price had shrunk along with the size of the bag, I could have tossed a couple of bags in, and everything would have come out even, but the price seemed to be moving in the opposite direction. I already considered trail mix an expensive treat, but justified it by telling myself that at least it was a healthy one.

Several of my writer friends have expressed regret that they didn’t stay in school long enough to get a degree when they were younger, or that they wish they had taken more courses that would help them in their chosen profession of writing when they had the opportunity.

Most feel that responsibilities of marriage, children, and outside jobs are holding them back from returning to school to finish what they should have finished years ago.

My granddaughter is quite a volunteerer She has tutored kids younger that herself at school; she has made quilts for small children in the women and children’s department of our local mission, and she spent time last summer doing a variety of jobs at a senior citizens center. Today I asked her if she had ever considered volunteering as a counselor on a suicide hotline.

A couple of years ago, we adopted a feral cat and have been extremely satisfied until the last few days.

Because she spent the first two years of her life homeless and living outdoors, we have never forced her to stay inside. Although we have always had a litter box inside, she refuses to use it unless it is snowing outside and uses her cat door to relieve herself outside

As cooler weather has set in, she spends more and more time indoors, but in the last couple of days has ventured out 3 times and returned each time with a bird. Each time, we have managed to rescue the bird and set it free. We have scolded the cat and even swatted her, but it doesn’t seem to help. We tried a collar with bells on it, but the birds don’t seem to recognize the warning sound in time to avoid her clutches. We have tried locking her inside, but it seems to make her crazy.

My mother passed away in 2001 in a town quite a distance from where I live. I laid awake the night before her funeral wondering if I had taken care of all the little details involved in her memorial service. What if I had forgotten something really important? A funeral seemed so final, and I knew there was no doing it over if I messed it up.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t me who messed up. I told my daughter and her husband where the graveside service was to be held, but, instead of turning right at the second bridge to reach the cemetery, they turned at the first one and ended up making an unwanted tour of the local golf course.

My husband and I recently celebrated our 56th wedding anniversary. Quite an accomplishment if I do say so myself, and I can honestly say that one of the major reasons we have managed to stay together all these years is that we always consult each other before making any major purchases.

A new car? I can’t imagine my husband arriving home with a purchase of this magnitude unless we had discussed it at great length and come to an agreement on the make, model, and even the color of the new car ahead of time.

After a tiring drive to Portland, Oregon from my home 100 miles away, I drove around looking for somewhere to eat near my motel, only to find myself stuck in rush hour traffic. When I had traveled the better part of an hour at a snail’s pace, and had nearly given up hope of finding a good restaurant I turned in to a Safeway parking lot, figuring I would turn around and head back to my motel to sup on an orange I had stuck in my suitcase, just in case.