KEEP THEM WARM!

I am doing an emergency collection of socks and mittens/gloves for orphaned Mexican children who are living on the border. People in this area are living in card board boxes and lean-tos. They have very, very little. My husband is involved with a group called POWER and they leave in January to take rice and beans to the children at the orphanage and for others living near-by. PLEASE if you could send a pair of gloves or warm socks that we can give the children, it would be so helpful! One pair of gloves will help a cold child! If you have any questions send me a message @twisty58 on Twitter. Address for sending socks and gloves is:

Tammy Skaggs

430 Main Street

Gooding, Idaho 83330

Please tell all your friends. Together we can help keep children warm! Thank you for helping.

Kirstie Alley

Back in the "olden days" people were respectful and truthful. They stood up for what they believed in. They cared about things like integrity and honor and character. Nowadays people worry more about being politically correct and tolerant, to a fault. In a time when people take no responsibility for the things they have done, we tend to let them get away with it. It is much harder to take a stand now. If we disagree, we are called every name in the book; she's intolerant, she's a racist, she's a hater. Because we really aren't those things and we don't want people to think of us that way, many of us are much more careful about speaking out. It's easier to just shake our heads and say nothing, rather than be accused of hatefulness. God bless the people who speak out!

I give you, Kirstie Alley (although she is not mine to give). Alley is in a fragile position. She is in Hollywood where anything goes. Taking a stand that goes against the Hollywood elite is costly. It has affected many celebrities over the years. Alley always stands for what she believes, no fear, end of story. This lady is a delight.

I recently signed on for the latest online craze, Twitter. I accumulated many friends and have enjoyed all the interaction. The celebrity focus on Twitter is very interesting to me. Many celebrities use Twitter and it's fun to see what they have to say and what they do... but most of them never follow or communicate with their followers. (I understand that they have thousands of people who constantly beg for interaction and that has to be frustrating to them).

I went to Twitter for interaction. I'm not a blind follower. If some people won't take the time to visit with me, others will.

Kirstie Alley is a Twitter participant 100%! She's a celebrity who takes time to visit with as many people as she can. She includes everyone in her conversations and openly shares her life and her opinions. You never have to wonder where she stands. She'll tell you. Take it or leave it.

Alley greets people in the morning and signs off every night. She is faithful to be a good friend. Kirstie has a plethora of little names that she greets people with...I've been writing them down for a couple of months because they always make me laugh.

"Hello... muffins tops..." she begins. Every day it's a new name for us. Here are just SOME of the ones I've written down: butterfly wings, love buckets, lovely linen sheets, gardenia blossoms, phoenix heads, ritz crackers, sweet pajamas, fig leaves, sweet crescent moons, baby shoes, moon bugs, lunatics, ponytails, holy matrimonies, sweet potaters, soapbox derbies, lotus heads, chicken pot pies, roller blades, naked jay birds and love rockets. I actually look forward to what she is going to say next.

Kirstie is brilliant, witty and kind. Kind! Why is that so hard to do these days? Kirstie is the superman who stands by the under dog. She doesn't care who disagrees with her. She stands up for what she believes is right. She's a scream. She can chew you up, spit you out, take ya to the floor and make you think she's bestowed the ultimate gift on you. I appreciate her friendship and loyalty. She makes others happy. She makes us smile. She makes us think.

In this day and age when people are supporting all kinds of evil, Kirstie is standing for what is good and right and making us laugh all the way. Ya know what I say? Kirstie for president, that's what I say! Good night hula hoops!

A Rich Story about Being Poor

My father was the the youngest of three boys. His father was in the military and they were stationed in Germany. It was a tough time. "Plenty" was not an option. He tells stories of walking down train tracks to gather coal to help heat their house. One year a family friend handed down a raccoon coat to the oldest son. It was used but in great shape. The two younger brothers coveted it. Another year went by and the coat was handed down to the middle son, who wore it constantly in the German winter. Finally, the coat was passed down to the youngest, my father. By this time, the coat was in horrible shape, missing clumps of hair with patches in various places. Dad was mortified! He refused to wear the coat at all because he didn't want to be seen by his friends. It was getting colder and dad stuck by his guns that he wouldn't be seen in public with the coat. One day he was home alone. Everyone in the house was out somewhere and it was just him. A knock sounded on the door and when he opened it, he was thrilled to see that it was Germany's equivalent of the Salvation Army. He immediately donated the old, nasty coat and was nearly glowing with the realization that he was done with it forever. NOW, he could get a new coat!

Would that life were so easy! It was a month later when another knock came at the door and his mother answered it. Dad was sitting nearby and heard a gentleman say, "Your family has been chosen as one of our needier families and we have some things for you." His mother stepped away from the door and Dad watched as they brought in several sacks of clothing and food items. Excited, he began rummaging through the bags, only to discover that he had received back the very same old, raccoon coat he had earlier donated. While dad was devastated, I'm sure God had a good laugh about that! What were the ODDS that this could happen?! A good lesson for us all: be satisfied with what you have. God knows what you need.

The Haves and The Have Nots Part Two

Things were definitely looking up. I met my first love at age 16. He was 27, Japanese and didn't speak English. He was my karate instructor and language was never an issue with us. I was SO intrigued by his language and culture. I was doing sushi when sushi wasn't cool! We spent all the time together that we could. It was a little piece of heaven that lasted two years. He, himself, was a Have Not so the fact that we could never really go DO anything never fazed me. I had never known any different.

In my senior year in high school I worked as a Page in the House of Representatives. I was chosen for the position because I'd helped a local politician with her campaign and shortly thereafter worked with the Governor on a water resources project. I met some fascinating people and was often "out on the town" with many of the local politicians, going to the Governor's Ball and learning so many things. I've always been quite interested in politics so the whole thing was a blast. During that time I learned that who you know can make a big difference in life.

My Japanese love moved back to Japan and wanted me to go with him as his wife, but I wanted more time to see the world. It was a typical first love. You never get over it and you always wonder what could have been. It wasn't long after that when I met my husband, Bill.

I found him in a yearbook. I was visiting a friend from out of town and she was showing me her recent yearbook. I opened the book and there was a picture of him. I said, "I wanna meet THIS guy." That very week we were introduced to one another. He worked at a movie theatre during the night and at a furniture store during the day. My friend took me to the theatre to meet him. I positively swooned. We both did. The best part was... he spoke English! We dated about a year

and it was a whole new world for me. Bill was a worker and he had some money. He paid cash for a 1977 Trans-Am and drove to Boise where I lived to take me out on dates once a week.

I remember being so nervous when I took him to meet my family. Everyone was there. My insufferable little brothers and my parents (who were divorced at the time but dad stayed there sleeping on the couch). How does one explain THIS to a "normal" person? Because we never had any money our meals were a little different than most peoples. Mom would pick a "one food theme" and that's what we had. For instance, potatoes. That was it. Potatoes. I cringe when I think of the weird things we had to eat. She'd make something called Cream Chipped Beef on toast. She'd buy one package of pressed meat, fry it in a pan with some flour and slap it over a piece of toast and voila- dinner. The WORST thing she made was something called corn fritters. It was a thick batter with creamed corn folded in and then deep fried in oil. It was served with maple syrup. I gag today just thinking about it. So, understand that bringing Bill home for dinner at my house to meet the family was a HUGE risk! Mom's "theme" that night was stuffed peppers. Browned hamburger stirred with tomato paste and stuffed in a green pepper. I was horrified. BILL was horrified. We all sat around the table trying to eat and then dad said, "Whatever happened to that "Jap" you were dating?" I about died. My life was like that all the time. Ya just never knew where it was going to come from.

As an aside, my father loved to set me up in situations to embarrass me. One time we were leaving the hospital where my mother was staying for chemotherapy. A group of strangers and the both of us headed toward the elevator. They all got on and dad and I were just outside the door. As the door was closing dad pushed me into the crowd, waved and said, "Bye Tammy!" So, there I was inside an elevator with the whole bunch of strangers laughing at me. My dad is an entire blog unto himself and someday I'll go there. One day he brought a recently freed inmate home to meet me. The guy had huge blonde hair and a guitar. He looked like something left over from Woodstock... but I digress..

I went on to a short stint in college after graduation and went into journalism. I loved politics but was far more fascinated with the stories behind the people. So many angles! By attending college I was much farther away from Bill and I missed him so much. I ended up dropping out when he proposed and we moved to the VERY small town he lived in and set up our home.

We had two children and Bill continued to work both day and night to save money. We began to have enough to travel and over the years went to places like Scotland, Ireland, Spain, Hawaii and others. We stayed in five star hotels, bought lots of trinkets and clothes and lived the good life. I loved Spain! I was in love with the language, culture and people. But out of all the traveling, my two favorite places are still San Francisco and Manhattan. So many awesome stories I could tell you. But the point is, I was living a whole new lifestyle. This was something I'd never even imagined before. I never once worried about food for my family or for clothing or a place to live. I was a "HAVE"!

During this period of time I went to college and again for many different studies. Everything interests me. I'm one of those people who can't imagine being bored. I became a sign language studies/ Deaf culture major. I worked at the local Deaf and Blind school substitute teaching (so I could mostly be home with my kids). Then, I became a certified EMT-B and later a massage therapist. (and here's just an interesting side note: It takes more hours in Idaho to become a massage therapist than it does to become an EMT-B. That should scare all of us! Education is important to me; knowledge is power, they say. I am always reading and trying to learn new things. I've been in an art phase for some time now. I collect old books. I love animals, especially Mountain Gorillas and my dream used to be to go on a gorilla expedition in Uganda. I've worked with teens for years now, hearing stories you can't EVEN imagine in your wildest dreams. Being more able to afford things, I set out on an adventure of learning all I could. I still am an avid "collector". I collect everything. Besides old books, my other collections include old

pins (that you pin to a shirt); funny ones, political ones, all kinds. I have over a thousand. I collect camels. (I used to collect pigs but I stopped doing that after something horrible happened... another story for another time). I could go on and on but I think you get the picture. If you want it. I probably have it.

People treat you differently when you are a "Have"..... especially if you have more than most of the others. Two things happen; you are treated with much more courtesy and respect and you are sometimes vilified for having so much more. It suddenly becomes other peoples' business what you are doing with your own money and no matter what decision you make no one is ever happy. There is a Scripture from the Bible in Luke that says, "He to whom much is given, much shall be required". That is so true! When people have much, they are expected to give much. And that is as it should be. Great responsibility comes with many possessions. What we do with what we have says a LOT about the kind of people we are. Even the charities we give to say much about what we truly believe in; what our priorities are. People look at you differently if you are a Have. They say money changes a person, but except for more opportunities, it didn't change much who I was. I've always loved people. I just really love them.

I love the ones who are hurting, suffering and struggling. I can relate to them. I am not at all impressed with haughty, arrogant people who look down their noses at others. During this Have Time I was approached by a successful local woman who invited us to join the "country club". I said, "I honestly appreciate the offer, but I can't do that." She asked why. I said, "Because I won't allow myself to be a member of a club where members are exclusively selected." She said, "Well... what do you mean?" I asked, "Is everyone in the entire community welcome to be a part of your club?" She was taken back and replied, "Well....no!" I explained to her that I was no more important than anyone else and wasn't interested in acting as if I was.

We loved to help others. We gave mostly to people in need. Bill is a true giver. He's got friends out everywhere scouting out for him people who have genuine, desperate needs...and then he likes to quietly step in and take care of them. To me, that was always the most fun because I remember how it was growing up with nothing. It was years and years of plenty! I'll never forget it.

But, as sometimes happens, we learned that, monetarily, we just weren't THAT well off. Suddenly things began to go quickly. Bill lost his business, we lost our beautiful six bedroom home, lost vehicles and many other possessions. The past eight years have been very difficult-

a good, quick reminder that nothing lasts forever. We moved from the huge six bedroom house to a one bedroom apt. I found out that the BEST thing that ever happened to me was being born a Have Not. I can always find the best out of any situation... and humor is a huge tool! Our apt is in the town we've been in all along; a small town of about 3000; lots of sheep, cattle and cowboys. We live in the oldest building on Main Street. It used to be an old newspaper press shop. Most people who have lived here for years don't even know the apt is there. Squeezed between two businesses is a small gray door that leads up to the apt. It is key-coded so no one can get in but us. (I call it my gated-community). Once the door is open you face a steep set of twenty-five stairs to the second story, where the apt is. I love to bring people over because they all get a little uncomfortable about our "sad" situation. I'm telling ya... this entry is awful!

At the top of the stairs on the left is a door to the apt. Before we moved in we had everything re-done... carpet, painting, complete kitchen make-over and my son the (single, handsome) architect did two stone fireplaces and all the tile and marble. It's around 2000 feet of living space with a deck outside (over-looking the "city"). Going from 5000 ft to 2000 is mind-numbing and I'm still not used to it. Most of our stuff is in storage. Beautiful furniture and art and books that I long for on a daily basis.

So... you win some and you lose some. While I wouldn't be considered a "Have" by most people, I will never again be a Have Not. My life is enriched with life-long friends and brand new ones. I've still got my sense of humor. I still love people and we do everything we can to help those who can't help themselves.

Remember when I said that it's not so much what you know but who you know that makes a difference? When I was a Have Not, I had God and He provided for me. When I was a Have, I had God and He provided for me. Now... with whatever is left, I have God Who continues to provide for me. I could tell you amazing stories! The moral to this story is this: It IS Who you know!

The Haves and the Have Nots (Part One)

I was born a Have Not. I lived that way most of my life. We never had much of anything. My parents married and divorced one another three times. We constantly moved all over the country in hopes we could settle somewhere. The hardest times were when my parents were divorced and the weight of the finances fell to my mother. We ended up in Idaho and except for a short relocation (and re-marriage) to GA, we stayed. We never had food stamps or government help. It was just mom working and teaching us to work at home. When we were younger we had a babysitter. Her name was Louise. She was a pip, that one...almost burned our house down one night. If I hadn't awakened because of the smell of smoke, we'd all been dead. She had been smoking in bed and had fallen asleep.( Did You wake me up, God?) She was rough and coarse and her husband was a mean alcoholic! He always terrified me because of his loud swearing and the smell of alcohol that surrounded him. Every evening at dinner time Louise would cook for us three kids and then wrap an extra plate for her husband. I had to carry his plate many nights down an alley for seven blocks to the small apt they lived in. I'd knock on the door and try to hold my breath as long as I could. It never lasted long. He would throw open the door, grab the plate out of my hands and slam the door shut. I would run all the way home. I can remember doing things differently than other children. They had swimming pools; but we would play in the backed up drain system alongside the road, and it was waaaay more fun than any ol' pool. (Did You keep the drain backed up so we could play, God?) I learned to find entertainment in just about everything. I made my own fun. I can remember some fierce teasing from others as I was growing up about the mish mash of clothing I wore or the fact that I had no money to join the other

kids when they went to do things, but I always felt proud to be who I was. I loved life and I was loved by my parents. My mother used to remind me that fancy clothes didn't always make fancy people, but that it was who I was on the inside that counted. I did still wish for nicer clothes but other than that, I was happy.

We all have so many special memories from our youth. There were two things I had that I adored. They were my treasures! So special to me! Month after month one of my mother's friends gave her their used copy of McCall magazine. I couldn't WAIT to get the magazine because my mother would carefully cut out the Betsy McCall paper doll from inside. I cherished them. Each month I added another one and I had quite the collection. I kept them in an old cigar box and would sit on my bed, take them out and just look at them every night. I was the luckiest girl in the world! The other prized possession that I had was a collection of little glass animals. I got them from yard sales or from mom's friends. I used to play with them for hours. I kept them in a little bag and not a day went by that I didn't take them out. The night we left to go back to Georgia to meet dad was scary for me. It seemed back then that the decisions happened so quickly. It was like one day we just moved away. I'm sure the time was crawling for my parents. But to me, it was just so fast. Louise was watching us that night before mom came to drive us back to dad. We were staying at her house. Her husband, Carl was home sitting glassy-eyed at the kitchen table. I took out my little glass animals and scooted into the living room to a corner to be out of the way. I played and played. When I heard a car pull up in front of the house, Louise told me to run and go to the restroom so I was ready to leave with my mother. I quickly tossed the animals into their bag and ran to the restroom. When I came out my mother was there holding suitcases and telling us to hurry. I went to get my things. Everything was there except the bag of animals. I was devastated. I searched up and down trying to find them and mom kept telling me to hurry. How could I leave the only thing that mattered to me?! I was crying as my mother ushered me out the door and the moment I got into the car I realized that Louise and taken and hidden my treasures. I begged mom to let me go back and insist that she give them back... but we didn't have time. After crying, I reassured myself that I still had my Betsy McCall paper dolls in the trunk. Early the next morning I asked if I could get the paper dolls out to play with in the car. We walked to the trunk and popped it. Sitting next to my cigar box had been an oil can that had somehow tipped during the drive and oil and covered the cigar box. My heart raced as I opened the box praying that the paper dolls were ok. Only half were able to be saved. The oil had soaked into the paper and there was no going back. I consoled myself that I still had half left.

During the drive that night, out in the middle of nowhere, black with darkness, the car started to sputter and finally gave up with a groan on the side of the road. Then the smoke came and after that, the flames. Mom got out and helped my little brothers while I grabbed our dog who was moving with us. We stood in the darkness and watch as our car burned to a shell. Suddenly a light came on behind us and sitting out in the field was a little house. A man came running out to help. He was the only person who lived in this particular area. He was a fire chief. (Did you do that God?) The guy got us transportation and we somehow continued on our way; without my glass animals and without my paper dolls. I was worse than a Have Not. A was a DOUBLE Have Not.

Life went on. I was the oldest in our family of three children; with two little brothers. I did the chores around the house and baby sat my brothers when school was out. There were no allowances because one is expected to take care of the family responsibilities, and there was no money, anyway. I can remember going days without food and my mother crying and apologizing and then begging us not to tell anyone lest she have her children taken away. We weren't abused. We were WELL loved. Both of my parents were incredible people. Those were just some hard times. I remember having to wear hand-me-down clothes from my mother's friends. I was so mortified! But, I always HAD clothes. One day during a foodless few days our pastor came over. He had no idea about our circumstances. He and his wife had been out picking cherries and they brought us a bowl full of bright red circles. It seemed like they visited forever and I kept eyeing those cherries. Finally, they left and we all swooped down over the bowl and had cherries for dinner. What a treat! (Did You grow those cherries just for me, God?)

Dad lived across the country and came into some good money when I was 15-17. On my 16th birthday he bought me a 1967 ragtop corvette convertible with a 327 engine. It was awesome.

He also flew me to New York to go shopping and sight-seeing. I was hooked. THIS was the life!

I had gotten a number of new clothing... that not only FIT me but were the latest styles. It seemed to do wonders for my life; a corvette convertible, new, flashy clothes.... and then the boys started showing up. Seemed my Have Not lifestyle was about to change...

Part Two coming up next week.

My Grandmother Was a Poor, Black Woman

Mary Gertrude Hagen met Thomas Eslie Hampton in Ronceverte, West Virginia. Thomas, more commonly known as "Jack" edited and published the Ronceverte Times there. He was 20 years old. Mary worked for him. She operated the linotype machine. They were married in the late summer of 1912. They had seven children, the last born of which, was my mother.

Jack and Mary were quite a pair. Mary, beautiful and Jack, handsome; both very intelligent, always stimulating their children with stories and tales. Jack, always suggesting books for them to read and Mary (who was Irish) always telling fairy stories.

"The story" was everything to Jack; the meat, the details, the whispers. He loved his work. He left for work everyday in a crisp white shirt, black trousers and a newspaper under his arm. A man who knew his business. Rumor has it that he stopped a lynching one time. People loved him and he loved them back. For Jack, there were no racial boundaries. He despised it when anyone was disrespectful to black people. He began to be known as the person you could go to for help. Jack Hampton was your man. There are hundreds of great stories about him and Mary. But the best story to me was what happened after their death.

My mother, Jeannie, was Jack and Mary's youngest. When Jeannie was 6 months old, Mary died of cancer. This left Jack alone with his work and seven children. Jack knew a young black woman who was in need and he offered her work, to help raise his children. For seven years, Zeltha stayed on. She cleaned the house, she raised and loved the children and she taught them how to love without color-blindness. She told them stories and taught them how to work. Zeltha was the only mother that Jeannie ever knew.

When Jeannie was seven years old, her father, Jack died too... also from cancer. The children all worked to stay together during this time and Zeltha never left them. (Keep in mind that Zeltha was married and had a family of her own. She would spend all day with Jack and Mary's children and then go home to care for her own. This was an AMAZING woman).

Jeannie learned so much from Zeltha. How strange would it be for a baby to have never known her own mother and barely, her own father. But Zeltha kept her intact. She gave her security, hope and love. Jeannie grew to be, herself, an amazing woman who carried what she had been taught and passed it down to her own children. After a time, Zeltha went to be with the Lord and by then, the family was grown and self-sufficient.

Jeannie died 16 years ago. I'm her daughter. I only met Zeltha one time in my life when the family gave her a thank-you party for her love in their lives. She was an old, small, thin, black woman with eyes I will never forget. She took my face in her hands and said, "My Jeannie," (thinking I was my mother).

What I would give to be able to sit with her today and hear all the stories of Jack and Mary and Jeannie. How I would love to hear her speak about racism and integrity and honor. I pray that this woman somehow lives inside a part of me today and makes me respectful and kind and accepting of others, my grandmother.

ControlTop Pantyhose

Control Top Pantyhose

Well there I was at K-Mart

on that dreadful, horrid day,

Shopping blue-light specials

and passing time away.

It was a lovely morning

there was magic in the air.

I never would have dreamed that

I was moments from despair!

I looked quit dashing in my suit

a charming shade or red.

And with my stomach sucked and tucked

I really turned some heads!

You see, I don't wear girdles

because that was grandma's style

They bound you up and turned you blue

you couldn't even smile!

So I'm hip today and dress it

just like all the rest...

Us women, we wear pantyhose

they hide the flab the best!

It happened in the toy aisle

where little children play,

I felt a "run" sneak up on me

my Control Tops gave away!

Well POUNDS of flesh and flab and chub

tumbled left and right...

And people scattered everywhere

to escape my cellulite!

As the run split down my wist and legs

it set my fat thighs free,

And everybody standing by

saw the truth of me.

People fainted, retched and screamed

I really could have died!

I tried to look anonymous

but there was no place I could hide.

"In that red suit, " somebody said,

"with her white fat bursting free,

She looks like a zit erupting. Look!

Lookit! Don't you see?"

They pointed and they shouted but

that still was not the worst.

The worst was when they evacuated

women and children first!

"Attention K-Mart shoppers!"

the intercom began,

"There was an "Act of God" in Toys

so get out while you can!"

If only it had ended there

and my agony been brief...

But so much more occurred that day

I wasn't spared relief!

My thunder thighs slapped up against

both aisles all stacked with toys.

And I wiped out the whole shibang

with most impressive noise.

My rolls of fat, my tubs of lard

attacked the plastic ships.

And the Rambo dolls could not compete

with my enormous hips!

Barbie dolls and G.I. Joes and

balls and games all flew,

My Control Tops now were all in shreds

there was nothing I could do!

"Why's that lady doing that?"

a little kid cried out.

Apparently he didn't know

what Control Top's all about!

A sudden hush befell the crowd

and I PROMISE this is true...

O'Reilly stood before me with

a television crew!

"You're going to make the headlines,"

O'Reilly smiled his evil way,

"This whole thing's so exciting!

You've really made our day!"

Of course I died a thousand deaths

embarrassment was great!

But O'Reilly didn't care

he thought that it was fate.

Please let me die, I prayed to God

just take me home to You.

"I know!" O'Reilly screamed to all

let's call Geraldo too!"

I won't bother with the rest

the memory pains me so...

But I have a word of warning

for you before you go.

Don't ever wear Control Tops

if you are built like me.

Don't ever shop at K-Mart

unless you wear size three.

Don't ever play with Rambo dolls

don't watch O'Reilly's news,

And don't forget this story, girls

when you have the blues!

tammy skaggs