Pot Head is pissed

I don't know what the problem is...or I guess there are NO problems out there, because I just got a call from Pot-Head and she said no one is emailing the Pot-Head help centre. She indicated that perhaps her advise was too brutal, and did not have enough empathy for the those in need of help. Well, she has notified me she will try to be a kinder and gentler Pot-Head in 2006. She can be a little stern. I'll keep her on my sidebar for a week or so, and if she doesn't generate any help calls, I'll blow her off!! Even tho she is my best friend. If she's not smart enough to deal with my little blog world, she is HISTORY. I have contacted Dr. Lauralee, we are presently talking. She is a pretty tough cookie, so I don't know if she will come aboard. It's all a crap shoot in the big world of giving bad advise.

I was reminded today about a story about peas, which I wrote about the other day. When I was young we had a huge garden in our back yard in the country. Our cousins used to come out from the big city to visit. My youngest cousin Chris came out one weekend to hang with me (she was the youngest and only about 5). She and I sat in the garden eating peas right off the vine..for hours. We loved peas. I think we were two peas in a pod HA!! Anyway, two weeks later my mom got a call from my auntie that Chris had an ear infection, and she had put a pea in her ear, and it had sprouted and started to grow...LOL...I shit you not. They got it out with a sharp tool. Okay, that my last pea story.

This also reminds me of how all my cousins who lived in the city differed from us country folk. My cousins used to LOVE coming to the country to visit. There was so much freedom, no traffic, minimal supervision and the smell of fresh air. BUT, they did not have an immune system!! None. Everytime one of my cousins came over for summer holidays, they would go home with an infection. It never failed. You see, we ran around barefoot most of the time, and if we cut our foot in a ditch of dirty water, it was pretty well ignored unless blood was spurting out, and even then Mom would look at it and put on some iodine, and we would be back out there. My cousins could be in the same ditch and cut their feet, and an infection overtook them in a week, along with the plague. When we would get beaned on the head with a baseball we would just get back up, but they would turn black and blue and require a doctor. Yellow bellied city slickers they were. We ate dirt, they ate cornflakes, and looked what happened. Even today, they all look a little pale, like they need some oxygen or something.

I remember my cousin Linda and I making a raft after one of the ditches in town overflowed after a rain storm. We found few boards from my dad's board stash in the back yard. Unfortunately, Dad had not removed all the "rusty nails" from them, and guess who stepped on one of them...yes! Ms. el city slickerooo. By this time my mom was wise to the fact she would certainly get an infection, and put iodine on it, and wrapped it up in scraps of an old white sheet. Bandaids were for the rich. My bro and I rarely even got the old white sheet treatment, but because she was special and it was applied. Two days later...wouldn't you know it..she had an infection. Home she went. Later on, when Auntie Betty sent the kids for vacation in Altona, she send a note along, "please keep their shoes on." Wusses!!

When I went to Winnipeg for my summer vacation with them, I never caught anything...except shit...LOL.. I was a country girl in the city, and they had to watch me all the time because I had no fear, and didn't know a lot about obeying traffic lights etc. My cousins did a pretty good job of teaching me the rules and reg's and always showed me a pretty good time. The big city theaters, eating at Kresges downtown, shopping in Eatons, the hugest store I had ever seen. Back home we only ordered our stuff from the Eaton's catalogue, but here you could actually go into the store and buy it in person...it was a miracle. I remember my mom taking me to a shoe store downtown to get new shoes, and they wanted to xray my feet. Yes, they used to do that in the late 40's and 50's. They would xray your feet to see what your shoe size was. I screamed bloody murder (and I still remember this) I was so scared of the man who was doing it, I ran off in the store and mom had to find me. Once she got me back, she tried a few times to let him do it, but I didn't give in, so she bought me a pair of shoes the old fashioned way...by trying them on!! I guess that was high tech for dem days... I wonder how many peoples feet my age are glowing about now??