Ah, the misery of mis....

To all of you who know Freddy, this is for him. He eschews the use of computers, so he will not read this himself, but those of you who have heard our contentious conversations (!) will be able to relay the information to him. Perhaps I will print it off so he can read it.

Our latest excursion into the world of "mis" was talking about mischief. It turns out that mischief is a word in its own right which is harm or trouble, especially as the result of an agent or cause.

We got into this whole discussion because I once said something about Fred's contentious demeanor. In other words, his argumentative behavior at the gym. Then I got to thinking about misdemeanor. Misdemeanor is somewhat the same as misbehavior. So demeanor could just mean behavior. Misdemeanor has come to mean something specific in law enforcement. As does gross misdemeanor.

I looked in the dictionary and there is a list of over 200 "mis" words at the bottom of the pages. "mis" is a prefix when applied to various parts of speech, meaning "ill,"mistaken," "wrong," or simply negating: mistrial, misprint, mistrust.

However, there are some words which simply begin with mis like mischief or miserable.

As you can see, I am hard up for a subject right now. The "chif" will say good night before she becomes miserably mischievous. Take care.

The Pressure, the Pressure!!!!!!!

The truth of the matter is that I sometimes have nothing to say. I know that to some of you that seems almost impossible, but there you are.

I suppose I could always take refuge in a memory post. I have lots of that written up which I have not yet shared.

Or, I could just talk a lot of blarney as I usually do. Then you could comment on the mindless quality of what I said, and we would all be happy.

Actually, having the new chair has given me such a comfy place to read, that I have been immersed in stories. I am rereading a series of mysteries by Nevada Barr in which the heroine, Anna Pigeon, is a park ranger. Each volume tells of her adventures in one of the National Parks. I am presently reading about Carlsbad Cavern and its environs. Fascinating. This is the sixth book in the series, so you can see I have been reading feverishly. The first five dealt with the West Texas back country, Lake Superior, the Anasazi, A wild-fire in a California setting, and an island off the coast of Georgia. She is a woman who has dealt with widowhood by escaping into the wild.

One of the fun sidelights of growing old and losing some of the memory synapses in your brain is that you can re-read favorite books without remembering the details. And so I am saving all my favorite series for later perusal. This series caught my eye about at Christmas time and I am gobbling up the adventures.

I suppose I have ten or more such series of books. I am well supplied into the future. New chair, lots of books, trips to the gym, friends that get on my case when I don't write my blog. What more could a woman want? HMMMMMMMMM? Take care.

What's in a chair? ME.

All Naomi had to do was sit in my chair and she promptly herded me to the furniture store so George and I could get new chairs. My chair looked ok but was broken. I had sort of brain-washed myself into putting up with it, but Naomi was absolutely appalled. George's chair wasn't bad but the fabric was wearing out, so we decided we could just as well buy two new chairs and be done with it. They are of the softest leather and JUST GREAT.

We consider it a Christmas present to each other. Lazyboys rule!

We're supposedly going to have some snow this weekend, so we will sit in our cozy chairs, eat pop corn and watch movies. Life is good. Take care.

Christmas memories... 10

I wish I were having a memory this year with this fellow. When we were with him last we gave him this owl - to bring the mail, a la Harry Potter. Sadly we have had to send his Christmas presents via regular mail ... but we hope to see him soon in the new year.

When I was a child, Christmas was a big deal. Before we could open our presents on Christmas eve, we had supper, the women would wash the dishes, I would lie on the couch - sick with anticipation - and then we would gather in the living room. Each of us had a special poem or song which we had learned for the Christmas program at church, dad would read the Christmas Story from the Bible, and then - finally - we would get to open the presents.

One year I opened all my presents when I was alone in the house. I very carefully removed the wrappings and then carefully rewrapped each present. What a mistake that was. It removed the anticipation and excitement. I never did that again and I caution all children to resist the urge!

I remember some of my gifts. When I was very small I got a beautiful pale blue cradle for my doll. I think my dad made it of orange crate wood. Mother had made a gorgeous pink silk quilt and pillow to fit in the cradle. While we were under the shadow of the depression, many of the presents were "homemade" items. Still the best of the presents one gets.

One of my favorite presents was a big fluffy "adult" pillow for my bed. I also got a bottle of lilac scent Eau de Cologne. The trouble came when the two collided. I spilled the fragrance on the pillow. I never appreciated perfume again and never used much even as a young lady. It took much airing out of the pillow before I could stand to use it once again.

I love the Christmas story. God's thoughts are not our thoughts. To send his son as a baby in a stable is so awesome. It's all turned so upside down. I love it. No kingly triumpant trumpets before a powerful potentate! No.. a baby in a barn! When we returned from Brazil, I complained that I didn't have a creche scene as I had left our old beat-up dime store version for someone in Brazil. The cry went out and I soon possessed a collection of creche scenes. But they are only important to us if the occasion they remind us of is part of our faith story.

I present to you God, the baby. The baby starting on his journey. If you have faith as of a mustard seed this journey can be yours. Take great care.

Wonders Never Cease

I ceaselessly read about the wonders in the electronic gadget world. i don't understand much about it, but I am amazed by the complexity and helpfulness of what is available for sale.

Then I have an age old problem and find a simple solution to it that tickles the socks right off my feet. I could never keep my blue hymbook open and on the rest made for it... it would collapse and fall onto the keys. Yesterday I amazed myself with my brilliance. I put the Minnie bag closer on the top of the pages. Yippee. No more problem.

It is small victories like this that keep me going. A non-electronic solution. It's amazing how thrilled I feel even just looking at the picture. All I have to do now is play the piano. That is an entirely different problem.. But now I can at least attempt it!

Take care.

snow not so bright

I woke up today with a high blood sugar count (for me). I tried to remember what I had eaten yesterday and realized in the furor of the day I had really eaten four meals rather than just three.

I had two teeth repaired with new fillings replacing those which were fast coming undone. George had the four new tires on the sweet buggy allined or something, and in the middle of all of that, I sat and enjoyed myself in Cherry Street Books. Book stores are so marvelous. I held myself back and only bought two new books. The one we are reading for book club and one other. I feel virtuous. I have my eye on two others, too, but they will have to wait awhile.

Anyway... I was thinking back over my day and realized that we had stopped for coffee between teeth and tires and I had an English Muffin. Then later, I still ate lunch. No, no. That is not permitted. Too many carbs for this little lady. It was really an adventure drinking the coffee, too, as my top lip was completely useless. I had to flop it over the cup and hope for the best. I did well, however, as I did not spill on my shirt as I usually do!

Anyway, back to the snow not so bright. Even when the sun is not "out" brightly, we have confidence that it is under the clouds waiting to wow us once again. Patience is what is called for. Patience is one of the qualities that is most difficult to develop. Some people have more trouble with it than others. I'm not sure, but I used to be much more patient than I am now. I seem to have grown into a feisty old lady. Wahoo. Here I come, so you better.. Take care.

Snow Bright

Absolute cold. No wind. Blinding white. Shadows are a welcome relief in the pristine landscape.

I do appreciate the view from this window beside my computer. When we lived in Brazil the houses on either side of us were three feet away, and our windows fronted on blank cement. I cannot feast my eyes enough on the vista from the window here in Minnesota. I love sweeping vistas.

I think Brazilians who come here to live probably feel isolated with our spaces on every side. They love to feel close to their neighbors. They probably feel safer clustered together. I feel claustrophobic without plenty of space in which to stretch out. They also must feel scared by the extreme cold that we accept with nary a shiver. I love the change of seasons.

To each his own. It's great to be able to choose a preference. Have a wonderful Christmas . Take care.

warning lights

Don't you love those warning lights in cars? We have been known to call them idiot lights, because they basically don't tell you anything and are often lit because of a little ice on the wire or just because they're feeling somewhat tempermental. I like the gauges that tell you a little bit about the function they are monitoring. Like the gauge for how full your gas tank is or how warm the engine is. That information is forthright and worthwhile... and you can deal with it.

Life is somewhat the same. We are either hooked up to warning lights or information gauges. The warning light type thing is just a twinge that doesn't indicate much of anything but a sort of malaise. However the gauge thing is much easier to handle. You can check your blood sugar and it actually tells you you need to eat something if the reading is low.

We so often misinterpret the little warning lights in life. We read too much into an off hand remark, when really the person who is making the remark is on a different wave length entirely. But it is good to ask so that the problem can be cleared up. Or a little twinge in my heart probably indicates a heart attack, but further research indicates heart burn.

Naomi is driving back to Mpls. from Evansville and there is a warning light on the dashboard that no one can discover its meaning. She has stopped at three different places and everyone tells her to go ahead if there is no more indication of a problem. The book that should fill her in is large, black and not very understandable. Sigh. She has asked enough. Now she must drive the car with the hope that all will be well. As her mother I would like to wave my magic wand and make the blessed light go out.

She says she has seen several cars in the ditch. Great. Maybe the little light on the dashboard is the least of her worries. Sigh. God bless her and help her on her way. I've worried enough.

Take care!

slight correction

After reading the comments on the last blog, I can see I need to make a slight (!) correction. When i say I love DRIVING in bad weather, I must hurry to enlighten you that I meant RIDING with George in bad weather. The two of us have managed to drive through the most horrendous snow storms and it is exhilarating. Whether I would be quite as fearless if I myself were at the wheel is another story. When the weather is good I am probably too fearless at the wheel.

I am of the old school. Usually, if George is in the car, he does the driving. I supposedly do the navigating. I have found that with the deterioration of my eyesight, navigating is more difficult. The size of street signs leaves a bit to be desired, and saying "turn here" as you whistle past a street just doesn't do the trick. I suppose this is one of the reasons old people creep along, driving the others on the road furious. So far I have never had to endure "road rage" but there will be more opportunities, I'm sure. It would be interesting to see my reaction to road rage. Would I rage in return or conciliate? It might depend on the situation. Ignoring the rage would seem the safer option.

Stay cozy as the wind and snow rage. We're having some good old fashioned Minnesota weather. Wahoo. Take care... and curl up with some cocoa and a good book.