Of Dreams, Drama, and Dachshunds!

My peers and siblings have lots of grandbabies!  But I have none.  Nada.  Zilch!  I’m bereft of the joys that others take for granted.  I’ve despaired of ever becoming a grandmother!

My daughters are “career women” who have little time for producing babies.  But then, last month, my two daughters decided to surprise me with a Consolation Gift.

They plotted and planned for weeks… and finally the Big Day came.  My daughters went all-out!  They took me to Red Lobster and we had All-You-Can-Eat Shrimp!  They took me shopping, and I got a half-dozen outfits.

Then, they took me on an elaborate “Treasure Hunt” which touched my heart the most!  They said it was to thank me for the dozens of Treasure Hunts I’d given them over the years.  They took me to my eldest daughter’s house.  Inside, I found lots of “clues”—elaborate riddles printed on fancy paper which led me from place to place… Underneath furniture.  Behind doors and mirrors.  I was mystified.

The clues finally led me outside, and I arrived at my youngest daughter’s car.

There on the front seat was my hidden “Treasure”… a covered box that quivered and shook.  In a moment, a little face appeared and looked at me with big chocolate eyes that melted my heart.  It was a darling long-haired dachshund!  A miniature, pedigreed pup with long ‘curly’ ears—the cutest I’d ever seen!

Instantly, I fell in love.  I cuddled my fur-baby close to my heart and named him Barnaby—which means “Son-of-my-Consolation.”  I also gave him a sir-name that was befitting the little hot dog.  I christened him: “Sir Barnaby Wienerschnitzel”. Continue reading

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Part II — “A Gem of a Story…Unbelievable but True.”

(The story so far….I met a tough prospector gal on the West Coast, and we soon became friends. Things became more complicated when Diane found an amazing rock while prospecting. The stone turned out to be a gemstone—a rare Emerald with fossils inside. But getting the stone “certified” proved to be more difficult than we imagined.)

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The Smithsonian Institute showed great interest in our photos of the Emerald—which made Diane and I feel ecstatic—but soon Diane and I ran into a streak of bad luck!

Diane got slammed in the head with a heavy trunk lid, giving her a mild concussion. Meantime, I got T-boned in my car while turning into a parking lot. One side of my Honda got crunched. It’s a miracle that the car was still drive-able, but the thing looked like Heck!

Needless to say, our mishaps threw us for a loop, but soon we got back on track.

“Don’t worry about your car!” Diane said. “We’ll get you another car when the Emerald sells. In the meantime, we’ve got to head for southern California to the biggest Gem Institute in the country! The Emerald has to be certified before we can show it to the Smithsonian or anyone else! We’ve got to go to SoCal, Vic!”

Now folks—traveling through heavy LA traffic was not what I wanted to do! Driving a crunched-up car with a “priceless” fossilized emerald—taking it to the most affluent Institute in America was the last thing I wanted to do! What risks we were taking!

I spent an hour crying about it before I finally made up my mind to go. I dreaded the trip—but there was no way around it.

Diane and I set out late in the evening since it was the only way we could avoid the heavy Los Angeles traffic. At two o’clock in the morning, I drove through LA while Diane snoozed in the back seat. I maneuvered between big rigs and caffeinated Californians, sweating my way through the heavy construction that plagued 6 lanes of Interstate.

It was dreadful for me, but Diane slept through it all.

Somehow, my smashed-up car survived the trip, and we arrived at our destination about 8:30 in the morning. The Gem Institute was huge and scary. It was ringed by guard houses, locked gates, electric fences and unsmiling guards. Diane wasn’t intimidated in the least. She never is.

As soon as we pulled up to the guard house, Diane immediately jumped from the back seat—popping out like a jack-in-the-box.

The guard looked so startled, he nearly drew his gun. “Get back in the car!” he barked. “Get back in the car!” He was dead serious. Diane complied with his instructions, but wasn’t happy about such treatment.

Things only got worse when we walked into the gleaming halls of the towering edifice. The Security was as tight as Fort Knox—and for a good reason! This place was full of magnificent treasures!…Gemstones and gold and diamonds that beggared the imagination.

It made me feel small and scruffy—but not Diane! She was in her element. As a hardened prospector, she wasn’t about to be intimidated by anyone! She marched up to the front desk and let her presence be known!

The officials on duty looked at us skeptically like we’d crawled out from under a rock—and by now, we certainly looked like we had! They immediately began giving us the run-around, which only made Diane more prickly. They weren’t taking us and our precious gemstone seriously—that was obvious! We were just hicks from the sticks with a chunk of “green glass”, and they had no time for us!

But finally, they began to cooperate. Diane made sure of that! They took photos of our I.D’s. They made us sign paperwork….They took our pictures and put badges on us. Then they marched us here and there. Up and down stairs…taking us behind locked doors.

More guards with guns. More security checks. More cameras following our every move. Everyone eyed us narrowly as if we were Bandidos who had come to rob the place.

We soon grew weary of it all—but the greatest insult came at the end of our journey to the top floor. After a great deal of rigmarole they handed us an envelope containing the stone’s ‘Analysis’ and sent us on our way.

We stared at the ‘Analysis’ in dismay and astonishment. These “experts” had hardly glanced at the gemstone! They were calling it “Manufactured Glass”. They had done NONE of the required tests for which we’d paid $200!

The “certificate” was basically blank—which showed us how very little they thought of us or our Emerald.

We were livid. But how could we argue with anyone as prestigious as the Institute? We were back to square one, and had no idea what to do next.

We finally left the Institute and went to a nearby mall. We walked into a Jeweler’s shop. There, we received a warm reception. The people there put the gemstone under a microscope and were instantly fascinated.

They said the gemstone had all the requirements of an Emerald. The ancient fossils inside the stone were obvious to anyone who took the time to examine it closely.

They were so kind. The people at the Jewelry shop assured us that the Institute had failed to do an adequate job, but unfortunately, the Institution had the final say in “Certification”.

Diane and I got back in the car and drove home, filled with conflicting emotions. What else could we do?

Within the next few weeks, Diane got a hold of several people from a prestigious museum in the Midwest, and they took an interest in the Emerald. Soon, they contacted the Institute in Southern California, and that’s when the sparks began to fly.

By the time it was over, the President of the Institute apologized to Diane for not doing adequate research on the Emerald. He offered to test the Emerald again for free, but by then Diane was too fed-up with them to comply. She wanted nothing to do with the Institute!

So now, folks—to make a long story short—Diane is off on new adventures, taking the Emerald to places far and wide, planning new escapades in California.

And as for ME? Well—you won’t believe it, but this ol’ Midwestern gal has finally come home to Nebraska after a full decade on the West Coast. I’m home to stay!

I’ve got another car, now, and I’m back in the Barada Hills for good. I’m with my kinsfolk and all that is near and dear. I treasure them now more than ever!

The season is changing, folks, and the Barada Hills are aglow with gold and all kinds of colorful “gems”. Emerald green, interspersed with topaz and the golden hues of ash trees, oaks, and cottonwood. The fiery blaze of English Ivy and Staghorn Sumac. They are a wonder to behold! Their beauty rivals every sparkling gem in the finest Jewelry Box!

Folks—although I’ve traveled far and wide and have seen unbelievable things in the last decade…Although I’ve had many adventures that others can only dream of…And although I’ve nearly died more than once on my long and arduous journey….I’m glad to say that I’ve survived it all and made it safely home again!

And you know what? I’ve found the old saying to be so very true…

“There is absolutely no place like Home!”

This entry was posted on December 29, 2018, in Uncategorized. 1 Comment

A Gem of a Story — Unbelievable, but True!

Nikki Emerald

Now folks—I’ve told you some unbelievable, yet true stories, but I’ve never told you a more “historically important” story than the one you’re about to hear.  It’s the true story of two Midwestern Gals who both ended up on the West Coast.  And when they ran into one another, it set off an unusual chain of events.

I’m speaking of Yours-truly, and my friend Diane, of course.  She’s quite a character!

I met Diane on the mountainous West Coast where she’d been prospecting for Gemstones—but I soon had to help her through one of the most heartbreaking trials of her life.

On August 31, 2017, Diane received terrible news via her cell phone.  Her beloved daughter, Nikki, had just died in Illinois, several thousand miles away.  It was a truly tragic day, and yet it turned out to be a rather “blessed” day, as well.

After her daughter died, Diane went prospecting to take her mind off her grief.  It was then that she stumbled upon a transparent, emerald green stone hidden in the dirt on a mountainside.  It looked “heart-shaped”, and it was beautiful.  Inside the stone were strange shapes which appeared to be prehistoric, fossilized sea-creatures.  Diane believed it truly was One-of-a-Kind…Possibly the only “fossilized emerald” on Earth.

Diane immediately called it the “Nikki Emerald”  after her deceased daughter.  Diane considered it to be a precious “consolation-gift” from the good Lord above!

I was glad that Diane had found something to comfort her grieving heart. But to tell you the truth, folks, I myself wasn’t sure that the “Nikki” was even a gemstone—let alone a fossilized Emerald!  I’m no prospector, and to me, it looked like a chunk of green glass with strange shapes inside.

But I didn’t tell Diane, of course. I let her think whatever she wanted.  At least it distracted her mind from the loss of her daughter.

After that, Diane and I went traveling together—two Midwestern gals who had bumped into one another, by “chance”.  We went camping here and there, visiting the sea coast and Redwoods…All the while, we were toting around this emerald-green stone, which Diane believed to be worth several million dollars (according to the Internet.)

The stone went to the ocean with us.  It went to Church with us, and to Yard Sales.  It fell in the dirt… And once, it got lost.  What a panic-stricken day that was for my dear friend, Diane.  She nearly melted down—but miraculously, we found the stone again.
Diane remained utterly convinced that this was the rarest of Emeralds and we simply needed to find someone who agreed!

But few others were as convinced. The stone was so unusual, no one was sure what Diane had found, especially since prehistoric urchins are not normally embedded inside of gemstones!

We ended up taking the stone to the “Gem and Mineral Museum” and to several other prestigious places.  Most of the curators scoffed at us and turned us away without even looking at the stone under a microscope.  But Diane was undeterred and undaunted.

Finally, Diane took her rock to both Zales and Kay’s Jewelers.  There she met with certified gemologists who agreed to look at the stone beneath a microscope.  They soon became very excited They returned from the microscope with the stone cradled in both hands as though it were made of pure gold, encrusted with diamonds. The look on their faces was a sight to behold.

It turns out, that Diane was absolutely right, after all!

This was no ordinary piece of ‘Glass’!

(Story to be continued….)

VickiONeal.com

And the Whole World is Watching

As a country gal, I really don’t like technology and electronic gadgets. Nowadays, surveillance cameras record our every move. No matter where we are in public, we’re on camera somewhere!

Dreadful stuff. Technology! Can’t live with it—but can’t live without it.

At times, I even hate my laptop, especially when it goes on the blink. Right now, I’m typing madly, not knowing when my laptop will shut down without a moment’s notice. It does that sometimes for no apparent reason.

Laptops are bad news, folks, but cellphones can be even worse! They get you into serious trouble.

Have you ever been accidentally “pocket-dialed” by someone’s cellphone and you heard the sordid details of their miserable life, unbeknownst to them? People screaming in the background. Fussing and squabbling…

Well—something even worse than that happened to me recently! Continue reading

Heaven-sent Angels

I was still catching Zzzzzz’s at 6 a.m. when the phone call came from my dear old ‘Miss Priss.’

“Can you take me to the hospital?” Priscilla’s voice sounded muffled. “I’m dizzy, and my left side is going numb.”

“Give me a minute,” I said. “I’ll be right there!” I breathed a prayer for Miss Priss, as I shimmied into my clothes. Then I ran out the door.

These stroke-like symptoms were nothing to sneeze at! I was scared for Priscilla. She was a brand new client, but from the moment I laid eyes on her, I’d loved Miss Priss…a blue-eyed Angel with a halo of white curls.

When I first saw her, she was standing in the doorway with her little whippet dog peering between her legs. “Oh…” I gasped. “You look like an Angel…an absolute Angel!” Then I’d ducked my head, embarrassed at myself.

Miss Priss didn’t mind my strange interjections. We were soon great friends—but her whippet-dog, Carmella, wasn’t so sure of me! Carmey had issues. She’d been rescued from an abusive home, and she now owned Miss Priss without question—and was very protective of her!

But then came the emergency call at 6 am. I had to get Miss Priss to the hospital post-haste! The whippet-dog, Carmella, was distraught when I arrived at Priscilla’s door.

Continue reading