DON'T TELL ME WHAT I FEEL LIKE

Do you feel like talking back to the TV weatherman and his "feels like" temperature listings? How does HE know what the weather feels like---to anyone but him?
I have one brother and also a son who can ramble about in thin jackets in arctic blasts, while others of us shiver when it's 45 degrees and we're bundled up in layer after layer of down. Give us the temperatures, humidity and wind speeds, and forget the dramatics, guys. We'll judge for ourselves.
Warm, cold and "feels like" regards to you all, from R.A.T. (Rose About Town)

TOO POOR FOR DIVORCE?

Again in the morning news today I read about the "Too Poor For Divorce" discussion. All this due to the economy.
It takes me back to the 1970s, when my general contractor husband was building a house for a nice young couple who seemed to get along quite well. Suddenly, when the time came for choices, the two turned into mortal enemies before our eyes.
The fighting was bitter; what color should the carpet, countertops and applicances be? What color should the siding be? What style should they choose for lighting... and so on and on and on...
They traded stinging accusations: "You're el-cheapo"... "You don't know quality when you see it"..."You have no taste at all"..."You're such a worthless diva"... "You're such a low-life hillbilly"... "I never realized, you're really stupid"...
One day they asked for a special meeting to tell us, "We don't want the house; we're backing out; we've filed for divorce."
The project had proceeded too far for that to happen. They--and we--had too much money invested, and if they intended to lose it, we didn't. My husband suggested they act strictly as business partners in bringing the project to completion, and like any business partners, they could then split the profit and each go their own way, a bit more equipped financially for their separate futures.
From that point, none of their choices were personal or connected with ego or self-image; they were strictly business with an eye to marketability. From this vantage point, the couple worked seamlessly together.
When the time came to put the finished house on the market,the couple informed us they had a good time putting the project together. And they had decided to cancel the divorce.
They never put the house on the market; they raised a happy family there and loved the house. To this day, they are still married.
Good day, again, to all of you from R.A.T. (Rose Around Town)...still also married to the builder (retired).

I HEREBY RESOLVE....

Happy New Year!
Years ago, I firmly resolved not to make any more New Years resolutions.
Now, on the first morning of 2009 A.D., I can tell you I have kept that resolution without once failing, and I will continue in that New Year tradition.
Wishing the best to you.
R.A.T. (Rose About Town)

CALL US OLD-FASHIONED

In the news today I watched an interview with high-buck couples lamenting that the arrival of hard times has made it impossible for them to proceed with a planned, expensive divorce. I say it's best to try to choose your partner more carefully than you would when entering a business merger. Joys are multiplied and sorrows half when shared with someone you love and have loved for a long time.
Relative to that, I share this mini-poem written for my own partner after 48 years of marriage; it could be our anthem:

COMMUNITY PROPERTY

Prenuptual agreements
and separate attorneys
are a modern must;
To mark what's hers,
record what's his,
is only just.
Invasion of
each other's space
is soundly cussed,
And separate person-ness
a virtue of
the upper-crust.
No blend of souls
and psyches--
that's a bust!
But we were born
too soon to
understand that fuss,
For You are You
and I am I
and we are Us,
And everything we have
belongs to Us;
including Us.
---rmm

A WORD ABOUT ERRORS

And just to remind you, I've done so much proof-reading and correcting in my newspaper days, you can't expect to receive these blogs in anything but raw form... Like a builder who builds all day cant be expected to build things at home... Like a typist who types all day can't be expected to type letters at home... Like a lawyer who "laws" all day can't be expected to draw up a deed or a will for his family...
I blog, I post, I don't correct. Deal with the mistakes.
R.A.T.

BAD SPORTS

If you're a sports fan, as I once was, you've heard about the firings in the upper echelons of the Cleveland Browns football organization.Seems everyone's fired except the owner, who's not apt to fire HIMSELF!

I'm a woman who was once such a fan of this team, I'd let my husband and three sons---who weren't fans---go off somewhere while I spent a few Sunday hours with the Kardiac Kids(as we referred to them then, when win or lose, they were exciting).

Now...when teams are blackmailing cities to demolish new stadiums and build fancy new ones for them or they will pack up and move; and when spoiled football players spend more time in bars and jails than on the practice field;and when players earn more money in one game than the President of the U.S.can earn in a full term; and when tickets cost so much that families can no longer afford to attend home games together.... Well, ho hum; Bye, boys.

But a lot of you do still care about such things, including people I still care about, and they seem upset about the apparent collapse of this team. To them, I suggest they get in touch with Secretary of State Condaleeza Rice. She will soon be out of work, and she has often expressed her lifelong dream of owning a professional sports team, particularly football.

Perhaps she could scrape some cash together---the team could soon be available at a Bargain Basement price---and she might be able to buy the Browns. After all, she's always enjoyed a good challenge, and this team would certainly be THAT.

Then...even people like me might start watching games again, just to see the strong Condaleeza stylishly pacing the sidelines like a caged mountain lion, with such a grimace on her face, the Kardiac Kids might actually be inspired to start making our hearts beat hard again.

So long for today from R.A.T. (Rose About Town)

THE SNOW EATER

Snow-pack generally lingers long in our valley, melting several weeks or more after surrounding regions have lost their snow cover. At such times my neighbors, up and over the hill in both directions, are often astonished to drive over the rim of the valley from their own green lawns and see the snow so well preserved in my domain.
This week, Nature was a bit more even-handed... We all went to bed, hill and valley dwellers alike, with snow still thickly blanketing the ground; we awoke to find it GONE!
Like the Eskimos' "Chinook" I had read about as a child, the "Snow Eater" winds had tiptoed up from warmer regions to swallow the snow and carry it off to who-knows- where. This unexpected day brought record-breaking warmth as gentle as late springtime. The night was balmy too--star-splashed even at 1 a.m. when the dog insisted I let him outside.
I opened the door and was struck by air so soft I couldn't resist walking outside with my dog. Barefoot and clad in thin night clothes, I willingly lingered in weather I knew would be temporary.
In the morning I woke to howling winds and low-pressure temperature changes ushering in a cold and nasty Arctic Express from the north. Ah... weren't we glad, my dog and I, that we'd tasted some false spring in the night before the storms arrived?
Good day to you all, whatever your weather, from R.A.T. (Rose About Town) and her canine pal, Jack.