Beef Attack

  I've never thought of hamburger as being threatening. Sure when it was a cow it could have charged me and done some damage but for hamburger meat to get wildly animated, I never thought that would ever happen, and I have been cooking it for more than thirty years. This week I changed m my views on that subject.

     I set out to make spaghetti and began by browning almost three pounds of hamburger. I was interrupted when my services were required to be a taxi driver. I remembered to shut off the heat and left.

     I was soon back at the stove, put the heat on to a medium temperature and stood next to the stove, chopping onions.

     The house was quiet, with everyone off in their own little corner, relaxing, when the quiet was rudely and violently shattered by an explosive sound.

     Shocked into a frozen state I was confused and mystified at what could have happened and had no time to think because a rain of hamburger hit simultaneous to the explosion.

     I know I uttered a bewildered and loud unintelligible sound as I stood riveted to the same spot and viewed the result of this hamburger volcano. The kitchen floor was strewn with hamburger and snowball size chunks of hamburger now graced the stovetop. On one counter top I noticed the newly baked chocolate cake now featured a hamburger icing. I looked down at my feet to see hot grease surrounding me. There was a even a new design on my socks, hamburger.

     Where is a camera when you need one? I know the look on my face must have been priceless. I began laughing, totally relieved and puzzled about what on earth had happened! I was relieved that no hot fat hit me, considering my proximity to the stove and the amount of fat that hit the floor all around me.

     It was my chef husband who later explained the mystery of the attacking meat.

     An oil bubble had formed under the hamburger as the temperature on the bottom of the pot increased too quickly. The weight of the meat held the bubble and allowed no escape route for it. If I had been stirring the pot the bubble never would have exploded. The stirring would have given the built up gas a place to release.

     Well the spaghetti turned out okay, there was enough left in the pot to continue, but it may take me awhile to live down the many jokes about Popcorn beef and how fresh Alberta Beef really is.

©Ellie Braun-Haley  Used With Permission

"Ellie says she thinks her husband's recipe for spaghetti is great but knows hers really packs a punch! And Debbie would know why. This story is dedicated to her (Ellie's eldest daughter)."

All Rights Reserved By Author    Visit her Website for more fun! 

Thanks For Visiting
Copyright © 2015 - IcqGreetings4U

Information Please - Story

When I was quite young, my father had one of the first telephones in our neighborhood. I remember well the polished old case fastened to the wall. The shiny receiver hung on the side of the box. I was too little to reach the telephone, but used to listen with fascination when my mother used to talk to it.

Then I discovered that somewhere inside the wonderful device lived an amazing person - her name was Information Please and there was nothing she did not know. Information Please could supply anybody's number and the correct time.

My first personal experience with this genie-in-the-bottle came one day while my mother was visiting a neighbor. Amusing myself at the tool bench in the basement, I whacked my finger with a hammer. The pain was terrible, but there didn't seem to be any reason in crying because there was no one home to give sympathy. I walked around the house sucking my throbbing finger, finally arriving at the stairway - The telephone! Quickly I ran for the footstool in the parlor and dragged it to the landing. Climbing up I unhooked the receiver in the parlor and held it to my ear. Information Please I said into the mouthpiece just above my head.

A click or two and a small clear voice spoke into my ear. "Information."

"I hurt my finger. . ." I wailed into the phone. The tears came readily enough now that I had an audience.

"Isn't your mother home?" came the question.

"Nobody's home but me." I blubbered.

"Are you bleeding?"

"No," I replied. "I hit my finger with the hammer and it hurts."

"Can you open your icebox?" she asked. I said I could. "Then chip off a little piece of ice and hold it to your finger."

After that I called Information Please for everything. I asked her for help with my geography and she told me where Philadelphia was. She helped me with my math, and she told me my pet chipmunk I had caught in the park just the day before would eat fruits and nuts.

And there was the time that Petey, our pet canary died. I called Information Please and told her the sad story. She listened, then said the usual things grown-ups say to soothe a child. But I was unconsoled. Why is it that birds should sing so beautifully and bring joy to all families, only to end up as a heap of feathers, feet up on the bottom of a cage?

She must have sensed my deep concern, for she said quietly, "Paul, always remember that there are other worlds to sing in." Somehow I felt better.

Another day I was on the telephone. "Information Please."

"Information," said the now familiar voice.

"How do you spell fix?" I asked.

All this took place in a small town in the pacific Northwest. Then when I was 9 years old, we moved across the country to Boston. I missed my friend very much. Information Please belonged in that old wooden box back home, and I somehow never thought of trying the tall, shiny new phone that sat on the hall table.

Yet as I grew into my teens, the memories of those childhood conversations never really left me; often in moments of doubt and perplexity I would recall the serene sense of security I had then. I appreciated now how patient, understanding, and kind she was to have spent her time on a little boy.

A few years later, on my way west to college, my plane put down in Seattle. I had about half an hour or so between plane, and I spent 15v minutes or so on the phone with my sister, who lived there now. Then without thinking what I was doing, I dialed my hometown operator and said, "Information Please".

Miraculously, I heard again the small, clear voice I knew so well, "Information." I hadn't planned this but I heard myself saying, "Could you tell me please how-to spell fix?"

There was a long pause. Then came the soft spoken answer, "I guess that your finger must have healed by now.

I laughed, "So it's really still you," I said. "I wonder if you have any idea how much you meant to me during that time.

"I wonder, she said, if you know how much your calls meant to me. I never had any children, and I used to look forward to your calls.

I told her how often I had thought of her over the years and I asked if I could call her again when I came back to visit my sister.

"Please do, just ask for Sally."

Just three months later I was back in Seattle. . .A different voice answered Information and I asked for Sally.

"Are you a friend?"

"Yes, a very old friend."

"Then I'm sorry to have to tell you. Sally has been working part-time the last few years because she was sick. She died five weeks ago." But before I could hang up she said, "Wait a minute. Did you say your name was Paul?"

"Yes."

"Well, Sally left a message for you. She wrote it down. Here it is I'll read it. 'Tell him I still say there are other worlds to sing in. He'll know what I mean'".

I thanked her and hung up.

I did know what Sally meant.

(Author Unknown)

Thanks For Visiting
Copyright © 2015 - IcqGreetings4U

Little Eyes Upon You

There are little eyes upon you
and they're watching night and day.
There are little ears that quickly
take in every word you say.

There are little hands all eager
to do anything you do;
And a little boy who's dreaming
of the day he'll be like you.

You're the little fellow's idol,
you're the wisest of the wise.
In his little mind about you
no suspicions ever rise.

He believes in you devoutly,
holds all you say and do;
He will say and do, in your way
when he's grown up just like you.

There's a wide-eyed little fellow
who believes you're always right;
and his eyes are always opened,
and he watches day and night.

You are setting an example
every day in all you do;
For the little boy who's waiting
to grow up to be like you.

Author Unknown

Thanks For Visiting
Copyright © 2015 - IcqGreetings4U

The Hunk From Hollow Creek

He just walked into town today
And people came from miles away
Just to get a birds eye peek
Of the gorgeous hunk from Holly Creek

His eyes are as blue as the sky up above
And his smile and laughter
Would sure win your love

He's dressed in pressed designer jeans
In the latest western style
And somehow the town is mesmerized
By his presence, walk and smile

Yup, that gorgeous hunk from Holly Creek
Is the towns new pride and joy
Leaving with all his birthday gifts
For today he's a big TWO YEAR old boy

© Elaine Hall
All Rights Reserved

Image source: Tineke's Kattensite

Thanks For Visiting
Copyright © 2015 - IcqGreetings4U

Walk Softly In Their Shoes

So often there are those...
We may not understand.
 'Tho we try with all out might,
It seems out of our hands.

They may not make the choices
We think we would make.
But until we've walked in their shoes,
Judgment, we must forsake.

Our shoes may be the same size
Or smaller even yet,
'Til we've walked in their shoes
The hurts we must forget.

It's easy to walk in our shoes,
Made to fit for me or you.
But to put ourselves in theirs,
Our minds must be renewed.

We know not all their trials
Or tests that they endured.
But when we walk in their shoes,
The light won't be obscured.

Those questions gone unanswered
May soon become more clear.
As we walk their life in their shoes,
We may learn to persevere.

So walk softly in their shoes

In kindness lend a hand.

Once you've walked in their shoes,

You may need help to stand.

Thanks For Visiting
Copyright © 2015 - IcqGreetings4U

The Measure Of A Macho Man

The measure of a macho man
Is not the clothes he wears
Or how he walks or how he talks
Or how he combs his hair

The measure of a macho man
Is not the women by his side
Or the job that made him wealthy
Or the expensive car he drives

Are you ready for the measure
That brings out his perfection's
The measure of a macho man

Is when he stops to ask directions~

Auhor: Elaine Hall 

Thanks For Visiting
Copyright © 2015 - IcqGreetings4U

What Is It About Men?

...POCKETKNIVES? 
 Every time I break a nail, need to slice an apple, peel a cantaloupe, slice a watermelon, or do ANYTHING that requires a cutting instrument, out comes Hubby's trusty pocketknife! I carry a pocketknife too, but I still use nail clippers, scissors and paring knives. Who knows where his knife's been? Men use them to cut - and clean the dirt from underneath - toenails and fingernails; peel cucumbers and cut tomatoes while walking around the garden; cut and trim anything electrical that needs fixing; scrape grass from under the mower; scrape "stuff" off the bottoms of their shoes and scads of other things. Who knows what that knife does in the bathroom or when we women aren't around to see them use it? Has anyone EVER seen a man clean his pocketknife? I've seen them sharpen their knives - spit and hone, spit and hone, spit and hone - but I've never seen them clean one.

...LOOSE CHANGE?
I hate that jingle! Hubby will carry change until his pockets get so full, he has to hitch his belt up a notch. The absolute worst thing is when men try to "help" the cashier (or their wives) at the checkout. When the cashier tells me the amount - no matter how much the "cents" is - I give her enough bills to cover it so I can get some change back to put in my money jar. What does Hubby do EVERY TIME, even though I've had many talks with him about it? "Here. I've got that." Then, he digs in every pocket for at least five minutes trying to find two cents! All the while, I'm fuming because the cashier completely ignored my money and is waiting for Hubby to come up with two cents. Finally, he either finds the coins or says apologetically, "Well, I thought I had it." We try to save all the state quarters we can get and I've told Hubby not to dig out the correct change; that way, he'll get some change back and may get one of those quarters. "Oh yeah, I forgot." He forgets the next time too.

...THE WEATHER CHANNEL? 
Why is it that, the older a man gets the more he watches the weather channel? "It's supposed to rain today," Hubby ventures every so often at breakfast. I always reply, "If it's supposed to rain, it'll rain." Weather doesn't bother me. It's gonna do what it's gonna do. Or Hubby will say, "It was supposed to rain yesterday and it didn't." I say, "Honey, if it was supposed to have rained, it would have rained." "Oh no," he responds, "they said it was supposed to rain." "Who are they?" I ask innocently. "The people on The Weather Channel," he says defensively. This husband of mine, who can discuss world events and numerous other subjects intelligently and at great length, believes EVERYTHING the weather person says! He'll watch the channel for two to three hours straight. When I've heard the local forecast so many times I'm ready to scream, I go to my loving spouse and say, "Honey, how many times do you need to hear the local forecast? It doesn't change that fast." "Well, I ain't got a chance to read it all because I was pouring a cup of coffee (or lighting a cigarette, or making a quick trip to the bathroom, or peeking out the window to see what the neighbors are doing) and I missed it." When he sees the look on my face, he changes the channel to the news, AND WATCHES IT FOR THE NEXT TWO TO THREE HOURS! Oh well, he could be out tomcatting around or drinking or gambling, so I guess The Weather Channel is the lesser of all those evils - so far.

...THE PAST?
There's an old saying, "The older a man gets, the further he had to walk to school when he was a child." I can attest to the fact that it's a true statement. Every time men tell how hard they had it growing up or how far they had to walk to school, or how they had to wear hand-me-downs, or work harder than their brothers, they stretch it from the last time they told it. Don't they think we remember what they've said each time they've told it before?

...TURNING ON LIGHTS?
More often than not, when I get up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom, or to the kitchen for a Dr. Pepper, or for some other reason. . .just when I'm getting adjusted to the semi-darkness of the night light in the bathroom...ON POPS the lamp on Hubby's night stand! Knowing he was sound asleep when I got up and after I just about jump out of my house shoes, I say, "Honey, why did you turn the light on?" "I was afraid you'd stumble in the dark," he replies. For as long as I can remember, I've navigated this house in semi-darkness at night. I have the clothes in my closet - including shoes, purses and jewelry - "filed" so I could find matching pieces in the dark. If Hubby thinks I need a lamp turned on, day or night, in any room in the house, he turns one on for "me." He's even been known to do the same thing with a flashlight. He goes into the kitchen in broad daylight with sunlight streaming through all the windows and turns the light on to pour a cup of coffee. Can't men do anything (no, not THAT) in the dark?

When I go to bed after Hubby does, just as I got inside the bedroom door, he wakes from a sound sleep, turns on his trusty flashlight and "lights" my feet all the way to the bed. I have to admit, though, if I have to be opposite a sex, I'm glad it's men. 

As Andy said to Barney about Aunt Bea's pickles,
 "There's only one thing to do...learn to lubbum!"
That's just what I did!

Kathleen McCoy Eldridge ©
November 9, 2001
Graphics provided by Artist: PennyParker Penny's Place In Cyberspace

Thanks For Visiting
Copyright © 2015 - IcqGreetings4U

Your Family Name

You got it from your father
It was all he had to give
So it's yours to use and cherish
For as long as you may live

If you lost the watch he gave you
It can always be replaced;
But a black mark on your name
Can never be erased

It was clean the day you took it
And a worthy name to bear
When he got it from his father
There was no dishonor there

So make sure you guard it wisely
After all is said and done
You'll be glad the name is spotless
When you give it to your son

by Nelle A. Williams

Thanks For Visiting
Copyright © 2015 - IcqGreetings4U

Daddy takes me Fishing

The sun was bright and warming
When we got into the car,
Heading for that little brook
That wasn't very far.

I found myself a little branch,
My fishing pole to be.
And Daddy had a piece of string,
My fishing line - you see.

I saw those fishes swimming,
Smiling up as they went by.
I couldn't count how many,
A zillion - Me-Oh-My!

The fish and I are friendly,
We all enjoy the brook.
They know I'll never hurt them,
'Cause I never use a hook.

I love the days together,
With my Daddy and my Fish;
And I hope they last forever,
I wish - I wish - I wish.

~ author unknown ~

Original Artwork by Tom Sierak

Thanks For Visiting
Copyright © 2015 - IcqGreetings4U

Celebrating The USA - Our Flag

Do you know that at military funerals, the 21 gun salute actually stands for the sum of the numbers in the year 1776?

I hope you have noticed the honor guard pays meticulous attention to correctly folding the American flag 13 times? You probably thought it was to symbolize the original 13 colonies, but we learn something new every day!

Be surprised at the following only because "they" quit teaching this around 1955 in public schools... some of you out there might remember.


The 1st fold of our flag is a symbol of life.

The 2nd fold is a symbol of our belief in eternal life.

The 3rd fold is made in honor and remembrance of the veterans departing our ranks who gave a portion of their lives for the defense of our country to attain peace throughout the world.

The 4th fold represents our weaker nature, for as American citizens trusting in God, it is to Him we turn in times of peace as well as in time of war for His divine guidance.

The 5th fold is a tribute to our country, for in the words of Stephen Decaur, "Our Country, in dealing with other countries, may she always be right; but it is still our country, right or wrong."

The 6th fold is for where our hearts lie. It is with our hearts that, "We pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America, and to the Republic for which it stands, one Nation under God, indivisible, with Liberty and Justice for all."

The 7th fold is a tribute to our Armed Forces, for it is through the Armed Forces that we protect our country and our flag against all her enemies, whether they be found within or without the boundaries of our republic.

The 8th fold is a tribute to the one who entered into the valley of the shadow of death,

that we might see the light of day.

The 9th fold is a tribute to womanhood, and Mothers. For it has been through their faith,

 their love, loyalty and devotion that the character of the men and women who have

 made this country great has been molded.

The 10th fold is a tribute to the fathers, for they too, have given their sons and daughters

 for the defense of our country since they were first born.

The 11th fold represents the lower portion of the seal of King David and King Solomon

and glorifies in the Hebrews' eyes, the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob.

The 12th fold represents an emblem of eternity and glorifies, in the
Christians' eyes, God the Father, the Son and Holy Spirit.

The 13th fold, or when the flag is completely folded, the stars are uppermost reminding

us of our nation's motto,

"In God We Trust."
After the flag is completely folded and tucked in, it takes on the appearance of a cocked hat, ever reminding us of the soldiers who served under General George Washington, and the sailors and marines
who served under Captain John Paul Jones, who were followed by their comrades and
shipmates in the Armed Forces of the United States, preserving for us the rights, privileges and freedoms we enjoy today.

There are some traditions and ways of doing things that have deep meaning. In the future, you'll see flags folded and now you will know why.

Thanks For Visiting
Copyright © 2015 - IcqGreetings4U