It’s 32 degrees. It’s not even November yet, and it’s 32 degrees! Of course, the weather decided to turn chilly on moving weekend. At least it didn’t rain — the WHOLE weekend, anyway.
The crew showed up today to finish putting a new coat of paint on the exterior of the little house in the Ville. We have a firm offer and should know something in a day or two. We hadn’t even listed yet and had someone look. She fell in love with the house and I really hope it works for her.
Seems strange to see a room that was always full of furniture and people empty…
We should be finished moving everything by November 1 — right on schedule. Take THAT chilly, rainy October!
Catching a view while sitting on the steps at the house in the Ville — the place where all posts tagged as “Small Town Viewpoint” originated — will soon be a memory. The house where I raised my son and spent countless hours basking in the sun on a raft in the pool (and even more hours on a lawnmower) will be ready to put on the market within about a week. Yes, I’m feeling sentimental.
I’m not going to lie… I’ll miss this place. Most of all, I hope some really cool family buys it so they can make their own memories here.
Member me? I’ve been absent so long that I nearly forgot all about this site and figure everyone that used to visit often has forgotten all about me. Everyone except those pesky neighbors (who aren’t even neighbors anymore). Because they enjoy popping in here when they’re south for the winter, now is as good a time as any to get back in the posting habit. I promise you’ll see some snow photos here in the coming months.
In the meantime, there’s lots going on — an upcoming house sale and move (November 1st on the move — the sale is slated to be complete about the same time). But I’m not the one moving! Benjamin and Colette will be migrating north and will be much closer to me, Coco’s school and more.
The little house in Crothersville sure holds a ton of memories. It’s where I raised my family. While it makes me sad to think I will no longer own property adjacent to the home where I was raised, opportunities abound to make new memories in new places.
The best part — it allows me to help my son and granddaughter purchase their first home. That makes me happy!
The worst part — the thing that bugs me most — is that Ben’s kitchen will be better than mine! Seriously… I would LOVE to have the cherry cabinets and Corian countertops. And the island.
More soon… y’all come back!
On Monday and Tuesday this week, in good ole’ Indiana, we had temps that hovered around 65 degrees. Yes, in February. Thunderstorms and a chance of tornados loomed in the forecast — and the thunderstorm panned out just fine. While I didn’t lose power, my son did.
Yesterday, I took this photo looking out from Coco’s room. It was exactly 40 degrees colder than it was at the same time the day before.
I do love snow…
Today, I had a funny memory of something that happened when I was in the 5th grade…
I know I was disappointed to learn that I would have Mrs. Hall as my teacher because everyone knew she was tough. (I still wonder if my Mom requested I be placed in her class.) She was round and oh, so grumpy looking. Sort of like a bull dog, Mrs. Hall wore a permanent frown, stomped instead of walking, and she was SCARY!! At some point over the years, she earned the nickname “Pouncy.” The name fit.
Mrs. Hall wielded a ruler… a wooden one, and she wasn’t afraid to use it, you guys. Unlike now, she was allowed to. And that’s not all she used. I had this one classmate who was always a bit of a trouble-maker. We all had one of those, right? He was a great guy but was known for pushing the limits of about every authority figure with his smart mouth and burly attitude.
This kid also had a nervous twitch. Everyone that knew him was aware that oftentimes his eyes would squint causing the corners of his mouth to curl just a bit.
No one told ole’ Pouncy Hall about the twitch because just as she was reprimanding him for some little infraction, that nervous twitch thing happened. She open-handed slapped him across the face and said (in what my 5th grade mind sounded exactly like a big, hairy monster), “Don’t you smile like a o’possum at me, young man.”
I was… I was… TERRIFIED.
Funny, the kid she slapped stopped misbehaving in her class — and I learned a lot in the 5th grade because I listened very attentively to every single word that came from that woman’s mouth. I’m not saying I condone my teacher’s actions from so long ago — I would be the first to admit there better not be ANYONE slap my kid in the face — but someplace in the middle between then and now might be an improvement.
Here’s something from the way… WAY back machine — Crothersville High School in 1931:
Seems like everyone has an opinion on the transgender bathroom issue and I’m no different. I don’t share my opinions on Facebook when it comes to anything pretty much… but I can say what I think here. It’s not that I won’t take a stand if it’s an issue that I strongly support or am against — it’s that I stay away from politics and religion on social media. Period. The transgender bathroom issue ticks both boxes.
I don’t care what a person’s sexual preference is. I know as a person that believes in God I probably should care… I’ve been told by a pastor/friend that I should be ministering to those who choose this lifestyle of sin — and I’ve been reminded by gay friends who worship the same God as me that it’s not for me to judge others. Knowing I sin… I’m not going to throw one single stone. I create relationships with people I like, not for who they choose to partner with.
Having said that, I do have a little problem with the whole bathroom thing. Sorry! I can’t help it. Maybe it’s because I’m old, but I don’t like the idea of the willy nilly ‘go into whatever bathroom you want’ thing. It’s not that I think transgender people are out there to rape children… it’s more that the world is full of a whole bunch of sick people that will use any loophole available to prey on others. That’s why I’m with Kroger.
Here’s Kroger’s position…
We have a UNISEX bathroom because sometimes gender specific toilets put others into uncomfortable situations. And since we have a lot of our friends coming to see us, we want to provide a place for our friends who are:
- Dads with daughters
- Moms with sons
- Parents with disabled children
- Those in the LGBTQ community
- Adults with aging parents who may be mentally or physically disabled
THANK YOU for helping us to provide a safe environment for EVERYONE!”
I like that… I can identify with that… I’ve BEEN a Mom with a son, and have a son with a daughter. I feel like Kroger cares about providing a safe place for everyone and AT THE SAME TIME can make sure EVERYONE feels like they belong.
Here’s Target’s position…
[W]e welcome transgender team members and guests to use the restroom or fitting room facility that corresponds with their gender identity. …Everyone deserves to feel like they belong.”
Obviously, this policy doesn’t really make EVERYONE feel like they belong. It makes some think that Target doesn’t care about how a whole bunch of the people spending money with them feel. 550k have signed the pledge to boycott Target stores already: https://www.afa.net/action-alerts/sign-the-boycott-target-pledge/ I’m pretty sure that Target already has UNISEX bathrooms — they just don’t want transgenders to feel as if they don’t belong by requiring them to choose that option.
We have a UNISEX yard here… but only females have used it so far.
Some 11-years ago, 10 year-old Katie Coleman was abducted and killed. In the beginning, it was believed (because someone falsely confessed), that the forth-grader was murdered because she witnessed drug activity and/or a meth lab. Although later found to be untrue, in the interim — when that’s what was in the news nationally — the Scott County communities of Austin and Scottsburg rallied to Crothersville’s aid.
In 2004, obtaining a high-speed Internet connectivity account was a struggle for smaller rural areas. Nothing like now… the options were slim to none. When the City of Scottsburg got a grant and began providing wireless high-speed Internet services outside their county, I was their first customer/beta tester in Crothersville. So when the FBI set-up shop in the local fire department to find Katie (and later investigate who murdered her), I was called to help them acquire immediate Internet connectivity. I made one call and the bucket truck rolled in within the hour… providing the service at no cost to our town or the FBI. (Now I’m not saying there were NEVER charges… but I do know they came within an hour of my calling and didn’t ask for payment.)
Also in the interim… before anyone knew anything about Anthony Stockleman… I was asked to speak at the Scott County ‘Mayor’s Prayer Breakfast,’ along with my good friend and local funeral home owner/director and the Jackson County Prosecutor (who would later prosecute Katie’s killer). The overall theme and tone of this event was (again, it was still believed Katie’s death was drug related) ‘we are ONE community standing together to fight the horrible meth epidemic plaguing our area.’
I wrote all the blah blah blah above because it’s stuck in my head for over 10 years. I remember the Mayor of Scottsburg (who was also a speaker on the program I mention above) reminding the audience that there isn’t a grand wall or deep ravine dividing Austin and Crothersville. And he was right. When a little girl went missing and it was thought drugs were the primary reason, the communities of Austin and Scottsburg stepped up to fight right beside Crothersville. Now, when drugs are the primary reason so many residents of Austin have been diagnosed with HIV, I don’t see my hometown community rallying behind them. Maybe they are… but I personally haven’t seen it. I understand why… I do… but I sure feel awful for the Austin community even though I’m no longer just 4 miles away.
If you like podcasts and want to hear more about the drug/HIV epidemic in Austin, check out Embedded.
It’s official and will be out in the news soon, so I can now share that my favorite brother will be honored with signage designating US 31 through Crothersville as “Scott McKain Way.” How cool is that? To say that he is thrilled is an understatement.
Scott has always been proud of the fact that he’s from Crothersville. If you’ve heard him speak, you’ve seen the slide he uses every single time that is of the same stretch of highway that will now be named in his honor — that translates to over one million people around the world that he’s told about Crothersville, Indiana. What he never mentions is that I took that picture… and I can’t wait to take the next one once the signage is in place!
When you’re an Indiana resident, you know about how crazy the weather can be. It’s not everywhere you can see 17 degrees on the thermometer while listening to a forecast calling for thunderstorms. I saw posts on Facebook stating the BLIZZARD OF 1978 (that I remember vividly) was during this same timeframe and that simply isn’t true. That big ole’ blizzard was near the end of January. I barely lived through that one. Mom and I were stranded together. Alone.
This small — but first — snow of the season was just fine until the wind began to blow and the temperatures plummeted. There was; however, a window of opportunity for just a little bit of fun…
Just when I thought I was getting to the point I like where I’m living now, this morning happened. No big deal really — just a foggy fall morning, but still, it sure made me miss “home.”
Typically, I get up, take my laptop and first cup of coffee to the patio room, and start my work day checking email to get things rolling before hitting the treadmill. This morning was no different — except it’s foggy. And it’s fall. My first thought was of the view I had from my house in the Ville on mornings exactly like this — a field of corn or beans with a tree-line in the distance covered in a blanket of early morning fog — a huge difference from what I see from here.
Not so long ago, my son’s ex and her friend had a conversation on Twitter poking fun at people who choose to live in the country (primarily directed at me — mentioning the “country folk,” only not in terms that kind) and insinuating that living in the city somehow makes one superior to those who live in small towns. I thought about that this morning too.
News Flash — it’s geography. I’m the same person no matter if I live in one of the best neighborhoods in a city or on a rural, dead-end road in the surrounding area of a small town. But I sure do prefer one view to the other… and I sure do miss “home.”
Property taxes are due today but I’ve paid mine already! Upon opening my statements a few weeks ago, I felt a little like Barbie…
No one likes to pay taxes and we probably all think they’re too high. But I have a real problem with mine! Let me explain…
I have more than one property… actually, more than two even. Property taxes on the home I lived in — when I lived there — in the Ville were not horribly unreasonable. Like most normal folks I thought they were high, but not out of line with the amounts I knew other people were paying. So when I contemplated the move to Seymour, I figured I would be taxed at a rate that would be painful because of where this house is located in the city, the fact that it’s all brick with an attached garage, and because it’s about 3 times the size of what I already had. But no!
The house in the Ville is nice. It is. (I miss it terribly, in fact.) However, it’s around 1200 square feet with a detached garage on an acre of ground tract. When my homestead credit got moved to the new house and I received my tax bill for the house in the ville I about keeled over! You guys, it’s Crothersville for crying out loud.
So I go online and look up five people I know who own nice homes in the Ville — similar in size and attributes as what I have here in Seymour. Every single one that I looked up had property tax bills that, on average, were $600 a year MORE than mine. These 5 friends pay a significant amount MORE to live in a house in the Ville where they STILL have to drive to Seymour (or Scottsburg) to get the majority of the stuff they need; all but one of the working people in these households STILL have to drive to go to work, and they all STILL have to drive to eat an evening meal outside their home.
What’s up with that?
Snow again today and more in the weekend forecast. Funny how the first snow we’re all about staying inside… and after about 3 rounds with the white stuff we gain total confidence to travel in it. If not for the fact that I’m under the weather (NO voice whatsoever — and wondering who is loving that most), I’d head out just for fun.
2 things to note:
- One pesky neighbor in particular is freaking out right about now because I don’t have a fluorescent bulb in this outside light. I’ll replace it soon (along with the fixture)! I promise. Please don’t lecture me.
- Yes, that’s a red Christmas bow adorning the bottom of the snow-covered lamp. Evidently people in Seymour keep decorations up longer. The doctor living across the street still lights the huge wreaths that adorn the front of his house so I figure the 2 leftover bows are ok. For today anyway.
While I’m waiting on you to bring my milk, bread and eggs, I just have to share the recipe for 3,2,1 cake — because it’s so darned easy…
1 box angel food cake mix
1 box any other cake mix (I prefer carrot cake)
In a large baggie mix the 2 boxes of cake mix. To prepare, mix 3 tablespoons of dry mix and 2 tablespoons of water in a small bowl or microwave safe container — microwave for 1 minute (3, 2, 1). Ice while warm.
Single serving of yummy dessert that takes less than 2 minutes from start to finish? Oh yah! I can handle that… and that baggie will make a whole bunch of 3,2,1 delicious.
Thanks, Facebook. Your suggestions insofar as what pages are similar to that of a police department were SPOT ON!
It was especially fitting for you to show me the similar offerings right beneath the police department’s post about a drug bust that included photos of the charged individuals. Way to go — I didn’t know!
I was thinking this morning about something my brother told me years and years ago: “Life is too LONG to be miserable.” You always hear the phrase about life being too short — but think about it. If just for a moment… think about it.
“Life is too LONG to be miserable.”
When my wise sibling first uttered those words to me I was in a really bad spot in life. Sure, he said many other things as well that were meant as advice, (Run! He’s gonna’ kill you!
BASTARD!), but they only applied to my then dire situation. “Life is too LONG to be miserable” is always applicable because being miserable is… well, it’s freaking miserable.
There’s only one other phrase I remember even more often and more vividly — it was told to me by my Grandmother. “It’s a poor hen that can’t scratch for one little chicken.” She was right, you guys.
So if you’re reading this and you’re just staying miserable in life because you think you have responsibilities that require it — remember that life is too LONG to be miserable, and any old hen should be able to scratch for one (or more than one!!) little chicken. (I’m pretty sure this could also apply to scratching roosters and really over the hill hens — like ME — too.)
Packing boxes and moving some in the SUV… U-Haul rental tomorrow… I can almost see my muscles growing by the minute! By the time I get in and settled, I’ll have arms like Popeye for sure.
And for the record, Alisa saved the day once again. I told her I would help judge the FFA Toy & Food Drive entries this morning, and when I saw her pull in the driveway all chipper is when I remembered that I forgot. Dressed in record time, we got the job done. It was fun to check out student’s creativity — and even better that it’s for such a worthy cause.
But the best part of my whole day was when Alisa carried in a HUGE amount of goodies. Those mice right there? Coco is going to LOVE, LOVE them. Add cherries (her favorite) to something that cute and she’s not even going to notice anything else. Me? I’ll take the buckeyes (that you can’t see in the photo). Hers are the very best buckeyes I’ve EVER eaten. EVER!! Alisa, you are the Queen.
This morning I’m reminded of that AT&T commercial where the cute kids are talking about how “more is better.” Why? Because we got MORE!
Indiana people are funny when it comes to snowfall. At first prediction, bread disappears from shelves. Milk, eggs and toilet paper are loaded into cars like being stranded for two weeks is a sure thing. The snow finally arrives! But give it a day (for some less than that) and we are digging out and driving around like idiots — and if more snow comes after we’re already used to that first wintery blast, it could be 3 feet deep and we’ll find a way to get out and go wherever our bad selves feel like it.
I remember the blizzard of 1978. While I don’t remember where the rest of my family was, I DO remember that Carl’s 4×4 (our primary transportation if snowed in) was buried under a drift on the other side of the county. Mom and I were stranded alone.
I’m not sure how many days Mom and I endured the hardship of being stranded together, but it felt like an eternity. And then… I dug for hours to expose my car, put my trusty shovel in the back and slid on ice and crunched through drifts all the way to town on the mere one-lane of tire tracks on US 31. I made it to my cousin Jerilyn’s house just in time — otherwise, only one woman would’ve made it out of that house alive — and I’m not too sure it would’ve been me.
Several years ago, Jerilyn (my favorite cousin) and I had a business in Crothersville called ‘Country Cousins.’ It was in the building where CJ’s garage was for many years before that. We were the ‘crafty crafters’ making tons of country items — big at Christmastime. We sold items in bulk through Cracker Barrel and to corporations for employee gifts as well as to walk-in customers at the shop. And then… we went to this big Christmas show in Indy…
To be a part of this expo you had to be ‘jurored-in’ — basically, it required sending a product to be reviewed by a panel of this magazine/event promotor, and if it was good enough you could buy booth space. (I wish I could remember the name of the magazine because at the time, it was a really big deal.) People paid for admittance to the expo at the Indy Fairgrounds just to buy stuff. OUR stuff. Jerilyn and I worked around the clock making holiday items and the MasterSbilt crew loaded it all into trailers and helped us set-up. We made these dried flower swags that we displayed near the front of our booth and women FOUGHT over these things!! We were totally sold out of swags before the end of the first day. Our night in the hotel was spent surrounded by spanish moss and dried flowers with hot glue melted in an electric skillet.
I will never forget this particular holiday season for two reasons. The obvious is that Jerilyn and I did something as a team that we’d never done before and it was a successful venture. But the main reason I remember it so vividly is because of what happened AFTER the Christmas Expo. We took the decorated tree we used in the show to a family who didn’t have one. I’ll never forget delivering it… lights, ornaments and all…
Parts of the linoleum flooring in the home was gone exposing the earth. Neatly swept and clean inside, it was almost as cold in their living room as it was outside. I can remember daylight filtering in from holes in the exterior of the house. The two children living there were over-the-moon from the second they saw what we had! I remember Jerilyn and I getting back in the truck wiping tears we kept hidden while inside. With little conversation, we drove straight to K-Mart (long gone from Scottsburg but was the shopping outlet back then) and spent our expo profit buying toys and food for the family.
While I may not remember the gifts I received or even gave last year… the above is one holiday memory I will never forget.
Snow is Gracie’s Christmas gift this year. The deeper the better…
My hands froze (and fell off my arms and shattered into a bajillion pieces) just holding the camera for this shot. While I often stand inside with my lens pressed to the window to avoid cold temperatures, I actually went outside this time.
You know, I often yearn for a home located in an area that boasts a warm climate and plenty of sun. But not today! I LOVE snow, you guys. And, I’m not the only one…
The white stuff is steadily falling here in the Ville and I’m hoping it doesn’t stop until we have at least a foot. (No more ice, please — I don’t want downed power lines.) If you’re local… be safe — and enjoy the fabulous scenery. If you live in an area that boasts a warm climate and plenty of sun, just know it’s ok to be jealous.
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! You know that sound you hear as a wide load is backing up? That’s what I woke up to this morning…
The ditch in front of the house in the Ville is already deep — so deep, in fact, that you can’t stand on the ‘bank’ and weed eat the bottom. A big ole’ pain in the butt to maintain in the summer! But evidently, it wasn’t nearly deep enough because the county showed up to dig early enough to wake me up, and after digging only one side of the ditch that runs the length of the front yard their dump truck was full. The lovely rocks stacked around the drive’s culvert are now nothing but a rugged display of how to waste time. If you need fill dirt, the county will soon have plenty to sell.
I figure I’d better soak in this experience. Once in Seymour, the whole ditch digging thing will be nothing but a memory. That mental list I’m keeping of the positive and negative aspects of moving just got one more mark on the positive side.
It may be freezing cold right now in southern Indiana, but ole’ Mother Nature is still hard at work painting amazing evening skies right here on the outskirts of the Ville. They say that ‘the grass is always greener on the other side of the hill‘ — and I will admit I often think of locating to other parts of the US where the climate is a bit less harsh. This is a view that I would surely miss. And, it’s a gentle reminder to me that it’s pretty darned green right here.
I’m one of those people that is either exactly on time or 3 minutes late if there’s someplace I have to be at a certain time. No matter how hard I try, I always end up frantic and pushing the limit. But being late isn’t ALWAYS bad, and here’s a really good example to prove it…
See how all the other trees have lost their fall leaves? But not the pear tree! It’s just now at peak with vibrant reds, oranges and yellows! Late compared to all the normal trees, yes. But fashionably late I would argue. If this colorful display had arrived at the same time as all the others, it might not have been noticed.
(Please remember this little story if you’re ever waiting on me and I’m running late.)
It’s 3:35 AM EST (yes, in the morning!) and I’m wide awake. Not a fan of storms or potential tornados (yes, I know there’s not many fans of severe weather), I have the big eye. Right before heading off to bed, I check for updates and see the information in the screen shot on the left.
I have a weather radio and apps on every device I own. Knowing what’s happening outside doesn’t mean I feel safe. It means I feel very vulnerable. No basement. Thoughts of taking cover only remind me of the devastation in Henryville — where houses were flattened and it didn’t matter if you were in a center room of your house in the bathtub.
I guess tomorrow afternoon is the biggest chance for the worst weather. So make sure to keep informed… and get ready to hide in the closet that won’t protect you anyway. 🙁
I’m especially proud of my family, the McKain’s, for their sacrifices and dedication to the armed services of our country. I simply can’t imagine how my Grandmother felt to have her sons — Dean, Roland, Richard, Dallas, Max, Roscoe, Otis, Jack and Johnny, as well as a daughter-in-law (who served as a registered nurse) — in places such as North Africa, Korea, Sicily and so many other areas so far from home. And I’m proud of other family members for their service as well — that pesky neighbor tops the list. So here’s to Carl McKain… thanks for your service!
In times of peace, we sometimes forget those who have given so much. Wouldn’t it be awesome if today, we would all take a moment to personally thank those we know that have served, or are serving, our country? We have plenty men and women Veterans right here in the Ville.
Pasted from Word because as I was typing it, I wasn’t able to get to whatifitdid.com…
I’m experiencing a slap-in-the-face reminder of how dependent I am on one utility in particular. CABLE! Right now it feels like the most essential service ever – even though I couldn’t power it without electricity and I’d probably be chilly without heat.
It’s pretty sad when you immediately think, “What is there to DO without TV or a connection to the Internet?!?!” Well, since it’s after midnight… bed would be a pretty good option, but I’m one of those who fall asleep with a TV’s background noise and dim light every night. And then, I remember we have an upcoming webinar that’s full and turning away participants that I’ve GOT to connect to in a few short hours. ::groan::
HOW AM I GOING TO SURVIVE?? (Service has been down for about 15 minutes now!)
Like a child in the backseat on a long car trip, I check for a connection every few minutes in anticipation. “Are we there yet?” “Are we there yet?”
I’m guessing the outage has something to do with the weather – tornado watches and severe thunderstorm warnings have been blowing up our weather radio all evening after a fun-filled day of nothing but dreary skies and rain. But, if you see the photo below… you will know I survived (the storms and the outage).
Same crazy Indiana weather too — where you just never know what you’re going to get. 70 degrees this afternoon and even Trick-or-Treating has been rescheduled due to threats of severe storms. Today is gloomy and overcast, but at least the leaves are finally making an attempt to perk things up.
For those of you who live in climates where you miss the beauty of fall, you don’t need to be quite as envious this year. At least so far.
One of the pesky neighbors called yesterday to remind me it was time to close “under the house” vents. Opening them in the spring and closing them back in the winter is something I know to do, but without that reminder I’m sure I would’ve forgotten. So on behalf of the peskies… it’s time to roll around behind shrubbery and under decks and shut those babies up.
It absolutely feels like fall now, you guys. 42 degrees as I’m typing this at 9:00 AM and the only thing I can think about is that comment my buddy, Alisa, made a few short days ago, “You do realize you are moving NORTH?”
What was I thinking? It’s already COLD in Indiana and it’s not even November yet!