If you miss the voices of Erma Bombeck and Lewis Grizzard, I have good news. An original Southern humorist, born from tenacity of strength and humor, Marlene R Buchanan brings a gift, Life is Hard Soften It with Laughter. Treat yourself to a copy, pour yourself a CocaCola and enjoy laughing out loud. Buchanan, a keen observer of the human condition , possesses a fierce love and gentle sense of humor. She shares every aspect of life’s journey. Her humor will lighten your day, her insight will remind you why you love the South and miss lunch on Rich’s bridge. Catch this great read on it’s way up!!  Sandra W.

I sat down thinking I knew exactly what A Place with a Past was going to give and then you hit me with that moment when Patricia steps onto that inherited Georgia farm and realizes the place isn’t just holding memories, it’s holding grudges. That scene where the air shifts, where the past isn’t just history but a living, breathing presence? I paused. I blinked. I literally went, wait hold on she actually knows what she’s doing.

And then I checked your author profile and suddenly it all made sense. You write like someone who understands Southern storytelling as a birthright, not a hobby. You’re not assembling chapters like IKEA furniture. You’re delivering atmosphere, generational weight, and humor with the confidence of someone who has lived around people who talk to ghosts like they’re cousins.

If you want to give this gal stars for that book, don't bother with only FIVE!! Go for fifty!!
Susan Lindsley, Award Winning Author.

Yeah, I know. I sound like a braggart, but this is what they chose to use.  I am profoundly grateful to each and every one of you who have read my books and encouraged me to continue to write. 
Thanks,
Marlene  AKA Ms Rat

​You all know I am the first to admit that I am weak in my competency with anything technical, basically a computer. I am old. I didn’t not learn this stuff when I was a kid and I only started working with computers while I was in education. If is messed something up I called the computer lab and a ninth grader was sent to my office to fix everything.

I don’t have a ninth grader available anymore. The local high school frowns on me bringing in my lab top or desk top into the school and whining for a teenager.

BUT…I have found Zoom. Now I can’t set a zoom meeting up, but I can attend one. I have a lap top that allows me to see, hear, and speak in a Zoom meeting. What a joy.

I am on the Board of Directors of four groups. Yes, I am proficient in stupidity and the inability to say no. You can be proud of me, I got off the fifth Board of Directors!!! I am proud of myself on that one.

Today I had a BOD meeting with seven women who are part of the National League of American Pen Women. Look it up if you can. Founded in 1897, it is the oldest professional organization for creative women in America. It was started because men in the newspaper and publishing fields thought women were inept. You need to see the history of this institution. It will make you proud of your history and the growth that women have gained in more than 128 years. Yes, we still need to educate men, but “you’ve come a long way, Baby.” (Please tell me you remember that line.)

But I digress, which is something I do very well. This morning the seven of us met on Zoom and had a full board meeting with elections for upcoming awards for women in the creative fields.

There we were. Seven women of varying ages. And none of us in make-up. Not a mascara wand in sight. We appeared to be clean and dressed—at least from the waist up.

It was really delightful to talk about our “in the rough and ready” stage. Without all the goo we still recognized each other. We complimented each other on how well and fresh we looked. And you know what, none of us cared that we were bare-faced. Without the cosmetics we could still take on the world. In our minds, we would win, too.

We are a fearsome lot. All of us in a creative field. I was once a visual artist, focused on print making, drawing, and sculpture. I have moved into writing in the more recent years. Other members are in the visual arts range, but we have also musicians and dancers, actors, poets, some writers, singers, you name it. We’ve got at least one in every category. 

There are many Pen Women organizations across the USA. If you are interested, check out your state through the web site. If there isn’t one in your area, contact the national office and perhaps we can help you get one started. With the creation of Zoom we can now have Members-at- Large who cannot attend an in person meeting, but can be there in through the amazement of technology.

With or without makeup.
 
Just a little information:
National League of American Pen Women, Inc.

Pen Women are professional writers, journalists, painters, sculptors, dancers, musicians, choreographers, art teachers, theater and film directors — and many others from all creative fields. We have more than 1,600 members across the United States, both at large and in more than 80 branches.
 
One of the earliest members of the organization was sculptress Vinnie Ream

In an era when women artists were not considered important, she, nevertheless, won the Congressional commission in 1866 at age 18 to carve the marble statue of Abraham Lincoln that stands in the rotunda of the U.S. Capitol. She made a bust of Lincoln, working with him in the White House before his assassination, and used it as the basis for the statue after his death.

The first meeting of The League of American Pen Women was organized by Marian Longfellow O’Donoghue (yes, Henry’s niece), who wrote for newspapers in Washington, D.C. She invited fellow journalists Margaret Sullivan Burke and Anna Sanborn Hamilton to join her in establishing a “progressive press union” for the female writers of Washington.
​
Other famous women who have been members of the organization include Grandma Moses, Georgia O’Keeffe, Pearl S. Buck, Eleanor Roosevelt, Maya Angelou, Rosalyn Carter, and Hillary Clinton, to name a few.

Having said the above, I am more than happy to be part of this remarkable women’s group, as I consider myself part of the “bridge generation,” bridging good old-fashioned in-person writing and meetings with today’s Zoom technology that makes all of us ladies look beautiful in our natural beauty!

I know I told you in September I was going to do better about getting my monthly newsletters out. I lied.  I had the best intentions, but life decided there were other I needed to do. One of which is to work on my memory.
​
Here is a little short one on Gracie, our smallest and youngest cat. If you ever come to the house you will never see her. Eleni Jordan from Parkview found her drinking from oily water in a car repair parking lot.  Gracie has been skittish all her life. She is mostly black with a little white on her face, chest and paws.  We call her the baby since she is only 12 years old. The others are 13.

Mystic has developed arthritis and diabetes. She has to get shot up twice a day.  She is doing pretty well with the diabetes, but the arthritis is in her hips and back legs. 

Figaro is still queen on the house.  She still gets her eyebrows rubbed every morning with her mini-moo.  I still sing "Moo River"  to her. 

Yes, I know.  I admit to being a little off center--like 179 degrees off center.

Here is Gracie's little story.
The Ghost Cat

​It was time for Gracie to visit the vet. She wasn't sick. I hadn't had her to the vet in 3 years. Since I had to take Mystic, the diabetic princess, and Figaro, the ornery queen of the house, I decided I'd let them check her over.

She decided they would not check her over!
Gracie was not told she was going to the vet. The words “vet” and “doctor” were not even spoken in the house. The carrier wasn’t brought in so she wouldn’t be forewarned.

We searched the house over.

There was no hiding place left unturned. We combed the upstairs, the downstairs, and found every dust bunny which had been hiding from us. But no Gracie.

We crawled on the floor, lifted bedspreads, and checked every chair in the house. No Gracie.

Special treats were brought out and placed in her favorite spots. Mystic came and ate, but no Gracie.

Catnip was sprayed in her box under the desk where she loves to lay. No Gracie.

After thirty minutes of searching and not finding this little six pound cat, I gave up. 

As soon as I called the vet and canceled our appointment she came out of hiding.

The receptionist asked if I wanted to reschedule. So I made another appointment.

Appointment two came along. Gracie was laying at my feet. Normally if I would stand she would remain sleeping in her box under the desk. Normally.

I stood up. I looked down. NO cat. Just a whiff of black fluff floating in the air. 

I searched the house for twenty minutes. I knew I didn’t have time to make the appointment so I called the veterinarian’s office to cancel and reschedule the visit.

I hung up the phone and turned around. There she sat, looking sweetly at me. I knew she was thinking “Gotcha again. No travel in my plans, Mama.”

This morning was the third appointment I had made for Gracie. She came into the bathroom and wanted to have the water faucet turned on so she could drink. I did that. 

She wanted to be combed. I did that.

I fed her. She wanted to rub against my legs.

At 9:45 am she was laying under the desk. At 9:46 she was gone. No one moved. No one breathed the word “vet.” She just vanished.

The Vet’s receptionist didn’t even ask if I wanted to reschedule. I guess the third time was it.

Gracie the Ghost Cat.

I have no idea how Dawn became Pussum Cat. I think James was trying to say Pussy Cat and it came out that way. Anyway, Dawn was mostly called Pussum. He loved it.

Yeah, that’s right. HE loved it. Two small kittens were curled up in the flower bed in front of our house one freezing rainy day. James was three I think. Mama Cat wasn’t around. Snell ran to the vet and bought special milk for kittens and we put it as close to the babies as we could. Long story short. James named them. Kissy and Dawn.

Kissy never warmed to us but would wander through periodically. Dawn was a bright young kitten and knew a good thing when she saw it. She stayed and let us pet and humor her.

Finally, one day Dawn started getting into our laps and letting us really hold her. She had to be neutered. We didn’t need any more cats to take up with us. The vet said Dawn was male. Well, gender identity was never one of our stronger traits. Don’t believe us…Delilah became Samson, Lilac the rabbit became Smokey, Figaro looks like she has a pair but is female and the Queen of the house. We need to choose genderless names.

Dawn knew his name. He and Puddles, the Puppy-Dog (oh I know, but …) loved each other. He made his way into the house and there he stayed. Forever.

Dawn was an amazing cat. Tolerant of a toddler who loved him. Answered you when you asked him a question. “Want some chicken, Pussum?” ”yaa,” he answered.” “Want some turkey, Dawn?” “Nah”. He didn’t care for turkey at all.

I write the Anything Goes column for Inspirations for Better Living magazine.
(www.inspirationsforbetterliving.com)

The parent company has a radio show Every Wednesday.  I was interviewed for this Wednesday's feature.
​(www.FromMyMamasKitchenTalkRadio.com) 

I hope you will be able to listen in.  I would appreciate it very much.

The link is below.

Interview with Marlene Rutledge Buchanan and Lynn Hesse at the S. SinC meeting, Monroe Walton County Center for the Arts.

Sainthood may not be good enough an honor! Ms. Johnson invented the hand cranked ice cream churn as a way to reduce the time required to make ice cream. Ice cream was originally made using very intensive labor over several hours. Johnson essentially created a way to make ice cream faster and easier. 

Originally, there were many steps to creating ice cream. President Thomas Jefferson had an eighteen step recipe. Johnson’s brilliant idea changed ice cream making into a much easier and faster route to happiness. On September 9th, 1843, Patent numberUS3254A was issued for the. Artificial Freezer and antedated on July 29th, 1848.

A Philadelphia housewife married to Walter Rogers Johnson in Medfield, Massachusetts. Walter was a scientist and first secretary at the American Association for the Advancement of Science. Nancy, herself, was a very successful inventor. This was very uncommon in her days, because women’s legal identities were taken away when they married. Under the laws of coverture, women were not allowed to control their own finances, own property, or sign legal agreements. Men represented their wives, mothers, and daughters. Nancy was a bold and determined woman who empowered women, teaching them they can make their own way for themselves.

In 1843, she filed for her patent for the first hand-cranked ice cream churn (US3254A). Her invention was called a “disruptive technology” because it made it possible for everyone to make quality ice cream without electricity. This technology changed the way that ice cream was made forever and portions of her patent continue to be used today.

Johnson received $1500 during the course of her lifetime for her Artificial Freezer. She adapted her original patient and refiled September 9th, 1843. She sold the rights of the patent to William G. Young, a Baltimore native, who improved some on the ice cream freezer on May 30th, 1848. Johnson sold the rights of the patent to Young for $200.

People erroneously credit Young as the inventor, but it was a Nancy Johnson who made the world a better place.
  
There are some people who should receive sainthood for the amazing deeds they do. Heroes should receive awards. We need to recognize the people who have made a difference in this world.

September 9 should be celebrated around the world! Nancy Maria Donaldson Johnson should be known universally for ice cream.

You scream.

I scream...

We all scream for ice cream. 

And scream most loudly for Nancy.

Nancy Maria Donaldson Johnson, thank you, thank you, thank you. You made my life and the lives of so many better.

(Information derived from Wikipedia)

Marlene is available for her speaking engagements. She is an award winning author and her books are available through amazon.com and scribblersweb.com. Join www.MsRatWrites.com for her monthly newsletters.

    We have just returned from our vacation to Alaska. We went 21 years ago with our son, friends John and Margie Sawyer, their daughter Mylinda, and husband Chris Moore. It was the trip of a life time. But our lifetimes do change.

    This trip was a little different. Mylinda, Chris, and their 19 year old daughter joined us. They brought her mama, Margie. One of my dearest friends, Cece (Cecelia Landress) also took the trip. John, who is legendary in Georgia for his baseball coaching skills, can no longer travel. 

Things I learned:

1. I attended a conference that was a weeklong only to return to leave for Alaska in 4 days. I was in a swivet already. Already tired and leaving a ton of work behind, I was in tail spin by the time we got to the airport. (And yes, swivet is a word in my vocabulary! It is self-explanatory.)
2. Never let your husband and son do their own packing without checking behind them.
3. Never trust anyone who says “I already checked there.” When searching for his medication. Always, ALWAYS, check behind them. We unpacked and packed the suitcases THREE times. The medication was on the bathroom sink in the little plastic bag with the toothbrushes and paste.  Yep, always check behind anyone who swears they have already done it.
4. If you spend three hours in Atlanta Hartsfield Airport, you have done all of your time in Purgatory. We did it twice this trip. If you didn’t cuss out one person, your extra feathers will be waiting by your wing frame in Heaven. I have to say, after our luggage was misplaced on the return home, I may have lost a few of my feathers. With my bum ankle I transversed Hartsfield THREE times. Snell is sick. James is aggravated and wanting to go home. I think I have to start collecting feathers again. My wing frame is pretty empty.
5. Memories are what matters. Margie has Alzheimer’s. She is my best friend. We laughed at all the old things we talked about. We laughed several times as we told the same new stories. It is important to cherish the woman who was so powerful and wonderful and to love the woman who is there now.  People around us might think we have lost our minds, but who cares. She is laughing and she is still wonderful.
6. Alaska is the final frontier—as long as you don’t get off the boat.  It is now the retail capital of the world, I think. Jewelers try to pull you in off the street.  
7. Whatever price is asked, ask for lower. Then ask again. One more time. Never pay more than one-third of the asking price and I recommend that you think one-fourth or less.  Alaska is the land of opportunity for you to be robbed blind.
8. Never bring a coat to Alaska. You can buy great jackets in Ketchikan for $30. Buy it in Ketchikan. The prices go up as you go further into your trip. When we began unpacking on the ship I found the three of us had five coats and three sweaters. The coolest temperature we had was 51F in the mornings. The rest of the day was low to mid 60’s. Shirt sleeve weather for me. A sweater and jacket for them. I told you to always check their packing. 
9. Don’t buy anything on the ship until the last day. Find out if you have some money credits. Use that to get what they have on sale if you really want it. I “bought” three rings for $0.00. I had $45.00 in credits.
10. Never say never. When we got out of Purgatory Atlanta-Hartsfield airport, with our luggage, my husband said “I am never going anywhere that we cannot drive.” James agreed. Then said, “Are we still going to Hawaii?” “Not until a bridge is built, son. Not until there is a bridge.” Replied Snell. 
11. Yes, crying is permitted. I was convinced I had caught dementia from Margie. I could not remember things. Finding my way was nearly impossible. I was easily confused…more easily than usual. My temper was not just flaring, but flames were shooting into the air. You are tired. You are in a new place. People will and do run over you. Try to smile as much as you can. It scares people around you and they will back up.
12. Do not plan for any activities for the first three days you are home. I had a speaking engagement the day after we got home. The audience was very receptive. I got a lot of compliments. I don’t remember what all I said. I do remember taking my shoes off because I felt like I was swaying on a ship. 
13. Book a service to take you to the airport. I think this is really valuable in Atlanta, where road construction is our adventure park. There are several things to recommend a driver. One, you get there without having to fight the traffic directly and you do not have to find parking. Outler Transportation, out of Snellville, GA, was the group we used.  Delightful staff, very helpful, knew all the ways to get around the construction. He knew where to go to get us to the right airline place, too. Greg, the owner, was terrific.
14. Book a service to get you home from the airport. This will save you jail time. When you get off that air plane you are still rocking and reeling and your brain is swollen and non-functioning. You only have to find the driver. No check out in the terminal parking, just let him drive you out of the mess.  And calling it a mess is being very kind. No matter how aggravated you are, he is dealing with the imbeciles who are cutting in front of you, tailgating, and acting a fool. If I had been driving I probably would have cussed more, made ugly gestures, and rammed into a telephone pole when I fell asleep behind the wheel. God Bless Greg and the Outler Transportation Series. (770-560-2961. www.outlertrans.com) I want to give him a big thank you and share his information with you.  Seriously, kept me sane and got us home safely and with an understanding smile that I was a homicidal manic after the Atlanta Airport fun and games.

The trip was good. We had a great time. It is our last adventure with Margie. Our families have traveled many places together. This was our last hurrah. Know what? The airport, lost luggage, and diarrhea (Yeah, I left that part out), money hungry retailers, and everything else... I wouldn’t trade that trip for anything.

One last great thing. I taught high school art was called Art Woman or Ms. Rat. One of my former students, now friend, lives in Seattle. We have stayed in touch over the last 50 plus years. Richard Kromm came out to meet us. We had a couple of hours together. Richard and being with Margie and our extended family is what made the trip priceless. 

I’d do it all again, even the airport.