The other eye...

They go to great lengths to make sure that they are working on the correct eye. When you check in they ask which eye and put an orange bracelet on that arm. Then they put an x over the eye as they are prepping you. Many times they check on who you are, and which eye you are having done.

The worst case of not following protocol was the doctor who removed the well kidney from someone with cancer in the other kidney. That was just recently, too, and was well publicized. Oofta.

I now have this patch off and I can see well through both my eyes! I have all kinds of folderol that I have to do for a week... drops, etc., but the truth of the matter is that I can even read quite well. This for a person who was unable to find her glasses if she laid them down in other than the proper place. I put my glasses on in the morning and took them off and put them on the bedside table. It feels weird not to have the physical sensation of the glasses on my nose. I bought a cheap pair of little reading glasses to help with doing crossword puzzles, etc., but I can see television fine with no glasses at all. Miraculous.

On the next blog i will show you my dark glasses. I definitely am a star! Take care.

Clarity!

It is such a blast to have this cataract surgery. Kudos to KW for trucking me over to the hospital and fetching me later! It's fun to do it one eye at a time so that you can compare the vision in one eye with that in the other. With my left eye the snow looks sparkling bright, but with the not yet done eye it looks dull. Colors look way different! I wonder if it will affect how I do art. It's so exciting. Yahoo!!

Fran.. don't worry about your stuffing of the ballot box! I just about fainted when I saw those four comments before I had even turned around. Great! Then I saw what it was and wasn't quite as excited, but the thrill lingered! I love your comments! I'm so glad I talked to you on the phone as I feel I understand your reasoning behind your move. I'm not thrilled, but I do see your point. It'll be fun... especially since Jeff is going to help with the move, etc. No worries!

Well, I just can't get over the difference in the color perception. Wow. I am reading somewhat better now with that newly fixed eye, also... life is SOOOOO interesting.

Take care.

old goggle eye

If you think this is easy to type, think again. I don't have my glasses and I can see better through the deal on my left eye than I can through the goggle-less right eye. I go this morning to have my eye looked at by the eye doctor which is exciting. The goggle thing is like a honey comb and i can see through it. I am sort of reading this through that with the lens that has been implanted in that eye... even through the honey comb. Wow.

Hopefully I look pleasant enough for Fran. I get zeroed into taking the picture and forget to look pleasant! And I can't really see the picture, so I'm not sure.

Turns out that instead of an ear infection, George has shingles on his face. I have a delightful picture of that for you at some future date. Oofta.

I will report back after my appointment with the doctor. I'm excited! Take care.

Tah Dah!

Okee doakee! My newest finished painting. Hard to get a picture of it, but this is the best I can do.

Now I'm working on more pear portraits. Fun.

Fran is dithering on about moving to Helena, Montana in the fall. Her son Jeff and daughter-in-law Janiece live there. That is a place that _I_ can imagine living. The mountains and camping around there are the greatest. But what is Fran going to do without the skyway for her winter walks? I imagine there is a mall or something near her proposed condo for her extensive walking excursions. Hmmmm. It is distressing to think of her being so far away. I will have to hop on the Amtrak and visit her. I hope the trains go there. Yippee!

My glands are healed. I am ready for a new week. The snow is shrinking. Life is good

Take care.

Once again...

into the fray. Hopefully the rabbit tracks will be clear to Matthew. The snow today is all starting to melt and coalesce into lumpy, bumpy whiteness. I think it is so interesting that around tree trunks is where it disappears first. The trees drink the moisture? i don't know.

I am doing all I can do to get over my swollen glands. I will soon be having cataract surgery and I want to be in tip-top shape for that. Not that it is possible for me to be in tip-top shape, but as good as can possibly be. I am staying close to home, drinking hot water with lemon juice, and generally trying to be a good girl. Right.

I will soon have a new painting to show you. Yippee-skippee. And I just finished re-reading "The Memory of Running." I love that book. A weird story interspersed with astonishing insights into life.

Take care.

cof, cof

My swollen neck glands must have affected my desire to put a picture on this blog. George was talking about all the rabbits that were cavorting in the back yard (to Matthew) so I tried to capture their marks with a picture, and now I see that I should have lightened the picture and turned it around. Ah, well. Maybe on the next blog.

Karen W. just showed up at the door for a confab! What fun to hear about her trip and to share news. I don't know what we talk about, but it sure is fun! Wahoo.

Well. I have a sore throat so I will get my plaid scarf and sit in my recliner with the afghan pulled up for a comfy day. I may even feel well enough to do a bit of painting. I am almost finished with the art deco one I showed the start of in the blog a few blogs ago. I'm sure you can hardly wait.

We loved book club. The book, "The Memory of Running," was a winner, we all agreed. "Three Cups of Tea" will be our next opus. We are meeting the middle of April because I should be all healed up from the cataract thing by then... double Wahoo. I made deviled eggs and open faced sandwiches with two kinds of Ezekiel bread and cream cheese. Instead of jello I had a pear half in juice with a prune perched on top in a pretty dish.

Take care and enjoy the break in the cold!

New Art!

Well! How about this image? It is acryllic on canvas. I call it "The Conformist" or "Untitled."

I imagine Karen W. is back from her trip. Welcome home! Hope you are tanned and well rested.

I am off to more doctor's appointments today. I will have my eyeballs measured for the cataract surgery and my nose checked to see if all went well from my squamous cell surgery. This getting old is interesting. If it isn't one thing, it's another.

Tomorrow is our book club. We are going to discuss the book, "The Memory of Running." From off-hand comments made by the bookclub members, they have liked the book. That makes me feel good as I was the one who discovered it. I am having it at my house so I have to start to get serious about what to serve. Hmmmmmmmmm. Deviled eggs, jello, and something else with coffee. There ya go.

Take care.

yippee skippee

Wow! Look at the plaque on those teeth. To say nothing about the adorable boy looking bravely through.

I am actually back on track. Almost. I still tire easily and need to rest periodically, but I'm back on track.

This political news is so interesting. To think that we have about 8 months before the election and we are going to have to hear all this palaver until November is almost more than a person can bear. So far I think it has been extremely informative. The numbers of people being energized to vote in the primaries is just astounding. I wonder if the enthusiasm can persist clear into the fall, however, or will we all be driven to reading Harry Potter to escape reality? I certainly hope that whoever wins the election finally wins it resoundingly so that there is no more bitterness about the outcome.

I have a big day planned. One of the things George and I will be doing is attending a 55 Alive presentation. Generally it is monumentally boring, but it saves us money on our insurance so we can endure a bit of boredom. I generally also learn a thing or two. Actually, I think some of the younger people could benefit from the same teaching. Driving is heading toward being a contact sport! Love seeing the cops on the highways to slow people down a bit. We generally drive the speed limit and people pass us as though we are standing still. Grump, grump.

Have a great day! Take care.

hippity-hop

Home again!

This is one of the awesome pics from the aquarium. When I got home and heard that our It Figures gym is in dire danger of disolution, I felt as though I was being threatened by a similar fate as was this young fella.

What would we do without all the laughs? To say nothing about the exercise? We have to rally around and figure out what to do to save our wonderful meeting place.

I was very tired after our trip home. I sank into my great recliner for an extended snooze. When I got up, I was not able to do much of anything except return to the comfy spot. Finally I went to the gym this morning but promptly went back to the chair after I returned. We are planning a trip to Mpls. tomorrow, so I better perk up!

Great to be home! Take care.

hi ho

Well. I hate it that I can't have a picture for you. I'll be home next week so I will put something great in then! Right.

I had a down day yesterday, but today I am feeling well. I made a batch of negrinhos, Naomi, and it didn't turn out very good. lumpy. Hopefully it will taste good. This stove is so mysterious and I had it on too hot, I think. Oh, well.

We are going to go to Ben Franklin to try to find styrofoam balls for a planet poster for grandson. Then we may go to a driving range so George can try out some of his clubs. It has been so cold here, or rainy, that the golfing has been hard to come by.

We also have to meet grandson's bus at 3:30. Life is great! Looking forward to seeing you soon.
Take care.

Nauticus visit

Yesterday the five of us visited the USS Wisconsin and the Nauticus museum. If you are reading this blog, Dana and Naomi, I saw some Koi fish swimming and identified by name in the fish tanks. Brought back a nostalgic Scrabble twinge!

The Nauticus is a museum of the history of the navy. It was extremely interesting and designed to be hands on for children (and adults!) One of the most fun things was to use one of the undersea deals they use for exploring shipwrecks. They had prongs to reach out and pick up stuff much like the deals at the supermarket to pick up stuffed animals.

It's hard for me to remember I am in Virginia where so much of early American history took place. All of a sudden I will be struck by a name and realize THIS IS THE PLACE THAT HAPPENED. Quite a thrill.

I am really missing Naomi today. It was great for all of us to be together at once. Take care.

Safe and Sound?

Well, safe. How sound will have to be for others to say. Our trip went without a hitch, but after getting up at 4 Fargo time we were already tired by the time we arrived in Norfolk at 12:05 Norfolk time. Our flight had made such good time that we arrived before the ground crew was ready for us. Then the motor in the mobile stairs didn't work and they had to borrow one from another airline to get us off the plane! Worked just fine, but took about 25 extra minutes!

Matthew is off to bed now and the rest of the crew is watching TV. I have already seen the movie so I thought I would blog a bit.

George and I are still just resting up. Beth and John made a scrumptious Thai dinner for Nay's birthday. Beth baked an angel food cake which we had with strawberries and whipped cream. Let me tell you about it when I see you, KB. We had a great time and it was fun for all of us to be together. I have already seen Stuart Little 2 twice with Matthew. Fun.

Take care.

On our way!

We're on our way once again attempting to make it to Virginia. As you might remember on the last trip we thought we were going to Virginia and wound up in the hospital in Fargo with George having a gall bladder-ectomy... or whatever. So now we are trying again!

This is my painting in progress. I am having fun once again. I painted this on a canvas panel that once held a portrait. I gessoed it and started over! Voila. It's never over until it's over.

Fran is back. She sounds as though she had a great time! Now she is trying to get herself organized enough so that she can start the art thing with a new rug and some other projects. We are definitely into art, as Fran's two daughters and my daughter are also artists! We're a frisky bunch. Naomi plans to be out in Virginia, too, so we can celebrate her birthday together.

If we can weather the extreme cold and make it to Fargo, it should be fine. I'll try to blog while I am in Virginia. Take care!

With a smile, Fran!

Hopefully I have satisfied my sister. I hadn't realized that I wasn't smiling as I was most interested in managing a picture of my nose. Sorry.

She has had quite a trip and promises to tell us all about it. I am planning to go to Virginia to see the family, so I will also have a trip to tell about. You should all be on the edge of your chairs.

Take care.

A Stitch in Time

Saves Nose! I will have these stitches removed this afternoon, and soon the whole episode will be over. It will be interesting to see how much of a scar remains.

The Great Super Tuesday is behind us. This is definitely the most energized the populace has been in a long time. Democracy is on the rise! Wahoo. It is extremely interesting to watch the electorate rise up and vote. I watch with interest as each state does its thing. And the people running keep on giving their pitches to all of us. Whom I will finally wind up voting for in the general election depends on who is running in the parties. I am an Independent, so they better woo me. Right.

See ya at the gym. Take care!

By a Nose

It's interesting to have the parts of your face spiffied up occasionally. I'm like the movie stars. I have had my eye lids done and now I've had a nose job! I had a squamous cell carcinoma removed from my nose and I should have thought ahead and got hold of one of those Groucho Marx noses to wear. Too bad.

This is a very temporary condition. I am to wear this bandage for two days and then wear a bandaid. Eventually the doctor said there won't be any sign of this major surgery. Right. We'll see.

My next adventure into facial surgery will be to have cataract surgery the end of March. Such fun when you get old. Wahoo. I will not only be able to open my eyelids, but see through the eyes. That is a definite plus, you must agree.

Take care and stay warm!

whew

If these apparitions don't scare you, nothing will! My daughter and her dog went out for a session of cross country skiing during that REALLY COLD session we had last week. Please notice the paw protectors on el doggo... and the glowing eyes. wow. the skier's eyes were surrounded by ice on her eyelashes, but that does not show up on the picture. Hardy Minnesotans! wow.

She has started a new blog with several of her friends, and if you go to the Naomi link on my blog, there is a link to the new blog there, I believe. She and her doggo are now in Minneapolis.

George is still coughing, but we hope his bronchitis will soon be better. I am fine except for a sprained middle finger on my left hand. It is amazing how much work that finger does. Until a finger or toe is sore you have no idea. It is even noticeable in the typing of this blog. ... and opening the car door or picking up stuff. It is used a lot. I fell in the fluffy snow and had trouble getting up. I had to get at just the right angle to get enough leverage to hoist my aging body back to my feet. Oofta. Luckily I had my cell phone with me if I couldn't have gotten up I could have called for help.

Oh, yeah, and the other night we had a carbon monoxide scare. Our detectors went off at about 2:30 a.m., so we went outside and called 911. The lights were sort of dim and I guess the electricity was just faint enough it caused the detectors to sound off. We had the sheriff, the first responders and other folks in attendance, but it was caused by the blowout of a circuit breaker somewhere. After everyone was pretty sure it was the faint electricity which caused the problem we went back to bed about 4 a.m. Luckily there was no harm to my computer, but I had a terrible time reprogramming my TV and my VCR/DVD. sigh. These new addictions to technology take some attention.

We are going to have warmer weather this weekend. Hopefully not so warm that we will have melting problems. ... Then back into the deep freeze. Wahoo. Take care.

Rats

I just

finished writing a long blog entry and then it disappeared into that oddity called cyberspace. Bummer.

I was remarking about the beautiful cold sunny day. No wind, but about zero degrees. And the fact that Fran used good sense to change her plans again. It is, afterall, a woman's prerogative!

We read the book "love walked in" by Marisa de los Santos for book club. Donna liked it and Carol and I thought some of the writing was good, but we thought the plot was contrived and way too predictable. The fact that so many of the characters were stunningly beautiful also was a bit off-putting. That combined with the over use of movie references overcame the positive parts of the book for us.

We are going to be reading "Water for Elephants" for our next book. I have read it and have a copy of the book which I cannot find. Bummer.

Then we are starting a marathon read of "The Pillars of the Earth" by Ken Follett. It is Oprah's pict and is a tome. One needs to go to the gym to establish good arm muscles just to hold the book. It has good reviews, so we will see.

Have a good cold day! Take care.

Book Club

We have book club today. I don't know just what to think of the book we are reading. It has a few strengths and many weaknesses in my opinion. I will be eager to hear what the other readers think of it. I will let you know later.

And then it is to pick another book. That is always a challenge. Any suggestions?

We have doctor's appointments this morning, so up and on my way. Take care.

Hi Ho

Just a quick note to let you know we're still alive and kickin'. We have been embroiled in health issues and many doctor's appointments, etc. As Naomi says, we need a social secretary to keep track of it all.

I last told you I was going to the eye doctor. Discovered I need cataract surgery, so we have been busy getting that started. The target date is March. George is busy with a herniated disc and the pain all down his right leg, and all the attendant work to decide what to do about that. And so on and so forth. Naomi has been here to help us with some of this, and we are doing well. It's just that I haven't had the moxy to chatter on about it. I will soon be back to my normal (!) self. Is that good or bad? We'll say good.

More later as George has a myelogram today and I am the appointed chauffeur. Take care.

wow - Memories 11

You have stirred up the pot stirrer! Hmmmm. What should I blog about today as I now have 8 comments on the last blog? Eight. Good heavens.

I think I will write about something from my youth. I was a child with bad tonsils. As they had the theory then that they shouldn't remove tonsils until your tonsils were not infected I had a big problem. I usually missed one day a week of school sick at home with a pesky sore throat. Finally, the summer I was 15 my tonsils were good enough that they removed them at the hospital. I immediately drank tons of ice cold water, and then my throat would not accept anything else for a long time. I have the idea of two weeks, but that doesn't seem feasible.

When I finally recovered enough to have malts and shakes, I felt like I had died and gone to heaven. That must be one of the reasons people love to have their tonsils out! Another perk of being "weller" was that I finally got to go a summer camp.

The folks let me go to Girl Scout Camp. My first summer camp adventure. Six of us slept on canvas cots on board floors under a canvas tent. There were many such tents as this was a large camp.

I was a stranger to all of the other Girl Scouts there, so when I met a girl from another town I was nice to her (of course) and she promptly became my shadow. I was raised to be nice to people. She latched on to me as she didn't know anyone else, and the other girls were not very nice to her as she was a scholarship student from their town. One day we split up as I was taking lanyard making and she was in a pottery-making group.

All of a sudden the air was rent with terrific screams. They seemed to go on forever. We found out later that the girl whom I had befriended had bit another camper 18 times because the girl had said something disrespectful to her. 18. As a human bite is one of the worst bites for infections, I was certainly glad that I had been nice to her.

The moral of this story is be sure to be kind to those you meet because it is hard to know what the consequences of nastiness are. Besides... we should be nice. It's so much more fun than nasty. Take care.

New Year!

This green should wake you up! Green is the color of new growth, and that is my prayer for all of us this year. I hope that we will allow new ideas and actions to flower into beautiful new inspirations.

My brain has been on vacation as I have been reading too much. My new chair is so comfortable that I have taken a quiet vacation sitting and reading. You know how a dog looks when he comes out of the lake and shakes the water off his coat? That is how I feel today. I am shaking myself and getting back in the game. I will have to limit the HOURS spent in the comfy new chair! I have an appointment with the eye doctor today. Perhaps new glasses will also help.

Take care. And may all your resolutions be good ones and be carried out! Aye, there's the rub. HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!

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.

Winter's a'comin!

Well, if you aren't convinced by the reading on your thermometer, you will be when the big snow storm comes on Saturday. I'm convinced it's coming as it is approaching from Colorado and will be roaring down on us in the afternoon on Saturday.
We will have to get reacquainted with the concept of emergency kits and blankets in our cars. We need to be sure our cell phones are well charged (Maybe it would be a good idea to bring the plug in charger with... hmmm.). The hardest thing for me is to refrain from just driving somewhere for the thrill of the inclemency of the weather around me. I do love driving in terrible weather.

I attribute this to my Viking blood. Any kind of big challenge rouses my fighting instincts. I even wrote a poem to that effect that was mercilessly made fun of by my instructor. He was sure that I didn't have that fighting instinct in me that made it reasonable to compare myself to a Viking. Hmmmm. Obvious to my friends that he REALLY didn't know me very well.

Of course, my cooler head usually prevails. But the look in my eye of absolute ferocity usually does the trick. I love living in the area that has four distinct seasons. Without the awfullness of winter, spring wouldn't be nearly as appreciated. At least, that is my position!

Take care.

Ring around the Rosy

The first snow is always fun. I especially like it because it highlights certain as yet unforseen things. This is a picture of the first snow highlighting how George did his final tilling of the garden. I hadn't realized that he did it in this neat rotary motion. Too cool.

I remember being on a trip with him. He was fishing in the Snake River, and I was just doing my thing waiting for him to return. I made a mound of dirt with a miniature road snaking around and up it. At the top of the mound I put an opened oreo cookie, imitating a volcano. Somewhere I have a picture of this master piece. Very convincing except that you can see my toe in the bottom corner of the picture. Now I would simply crop the picture, but at the time doing that to a slide was next to impossible.

That was one of the events during a five week camping trip that we took in 1956. We went out west to California, north to Canada and returned through Canada and the Dakotas. It was a blast. We stayed in a motel either 4 or 5 nights, but the rest of the time we camped. The camping craze was just getting started in America. We had a little umbrella tent, a station wagon and a camp kitchen that George had made for the back of the station wagon. When we would be getting set up, all the campers would come over to ooh and aah over this innovation. When we sold that station wagon, we tried to burn the camp kitchen as it no longer fit in the new station wagon. Now THAT was a job. It did NOT want to burn. It only finally gave up after a struggle.

I love to camp. Some of my friends consider it torture. To each his own! Fer sure.

Take care.

Blue

Your urging to display a recent art work got me to photographing this start of a new art work. If you notice the background of my blog you will see - BLUE. It seems to be a trend.

Fran has been taking a course at the Loft in writing a memoir. As a result I have been following suit and dredging up some memories. What I have discovered, however, is that things that I remember as clear as a bell have been altered by having gone into the family lore. Then I begin to doubt by memory, as I was a particularly obtuse teenager. I was smart, but I was also somewhat isolated. I should start to relate some of my activities as a teenager at East High in Madison, Wisconsin, to see who would come out of the wood work to challenge my memories. I am also trying to protect those who are in my memories before I include them in my blog. So I probably fudge a bit here and there.

Memory is such a tricky thing. Fran has done research and is doing her work based on a superstructure of history. My memories are just memories. Not based on anything but my failing remembrance of things past. So those of you who are part of that memory time will just have to give me a break! And point out differences when there are some!

Have a great Sunday. Take care.

Thanksgiving

It just goes to show you that I am a bit slow these days. I am writing about Turkey day the day after Thanksgiving. I am really immensely thankful for my friends and family. Carol and Carl had us over yesterday for a sumptuous feast. I appreciated the feast, of course, but the better part of it all was the get together part with good friends and their family.

The sparkle of friendship is just the best thing in the world. To be with people who are fun and with whom you can speak your piece as you wish is so wonderful. As I grow older, I find that I speak my piece a bit more than I used to. (Hey, what if I spoke my PEACE - that would be better maybe!) But to be able to share that which bubbles up to the surface of your mind with those close to you is a great blessing.

During my life time I've thrown kisses on occasion. Surely you have done the same? Where you kiss the palm of your hand and throw the kiss to the person who is leaving. The person catches the kiss and presses it to his heart.. then does the same back to you? Consider yourself the recipient of SEVERAL thrown kisses. The fact that you soldier on and read this blog means that you are worthy of those kisses. Thanks for everything! And Thanks Be to God!

Take care.

Memories - 9

Dad knew a car dealer who was extremely proud of his accomlishments. Dad was the sort who didn't believe in putting on the dog, so he took delight in playing gin rummy with Ted and beating him. They both thoroughly enjoyed the contests. They kept meticulous records on lined yellow legal sized pages. There was some way they could play so that each game would contribute the scores in the next game.. all way too complicated for me to care to figure out. But they would play hour after hour. My dad the peasant with Ted the bon vivant sophisticate. It was an entertaining time. Mom would make great meals and they would talk and play gin rummy.

One Sunday Ted took us (Dad, Mom and me) out to dinner at the fanciest hotel in Madison. He ordered the best steak, I think it was chateaubriand, for us. As we were teetotalers, he couldn't impress us with his knowledge of wine, but he did the best he could. As we finished the meal, he asked, "Well? How was it?" Dad paused, patted his mouth with the linen napkin, and replied, "Well.. It was filling."

At that reply, I got the giggles, Ted joined in, and we laughed until we cried. Somehow, Ted always tried to impress and Dad always impressed without trying. The people around us looked at us with disapproval, but we were beyond caring.

Memories 8

Fran went off to St. Olaf College when I was only six years old. She got the starring role in a play, and mother and some other ladies and I went up to take it in.

She was great. I didn't quite get what was going on, because when she paused at the steps contemplating going up into the attic where Rochester's wife was hidden away, I shouted, "Don't go up there!" I took her welfare very seriously even then. After all, she is my sister.

When we got back home we discovered that Bud had broken his arm while we were gone, and the tin pan that was used for rinsing the dishes had rusted. Dad was not as good a housekeeper as mother. He was NOT, however, responsible for the breaking of Bud's arm. That was entirely Bud's own fault. He wasn't able to jump as far as he thought he could.

Bud had rigged up the closet in his front bedroom as a little office. He had made himself a crystal set radio there. That was how we heard the news of Pearl Harbor. I can see the scene yet - as can anyone who has been involved in the news of a great disaster. I was standing behind him as he sat at his small radio set. I didn't understand all the ramifications of the news, but I knew we were in great trouble as a country. Bud and I took the news to mom and dad.

Take care.

Brrrrr.

This time of year is a mixture of cold and not so cold. It's a difficult decision deciding which coat to wear. Should I wear my honest-to-goodness winter coat which looks as though i am Mrs. Santa Claus, or should I settle for a fall coat? The last couple of days I have opted for the Mrs. S. C. coat. Better safe than sorry, eh wot?

Those of you who like to chat with Naomi should take a chance and take a peek at her blog. The link is on the side of this page. It is entitled "Naomi." Such a surprise. And now that you have mastered the fine art of leaving a comment on this page, you could do the same on hers! The other links I have on tap are sort of dated, but she is trying to get hers going again. Give her a look-see. The last two blogs have awesome pix of her new house.

She is the one who got me going writing this page. It has been so much fun. Now that she has moved away to Portland, it is one way we can stay connected. We also talk on the phone. I must say, however, I miss her close proximity. Such a sweety.

Take care. And DO check out Naomi's blog... pleeeeeeeeeeeeeez.

Memories 7

All through my childhood, I slept in the upstairs back bedroom and Bud had the upstairs front bedroom.

"Beau Geste" was the first book I stayed up all night to read.
I was reading away when the alarm clock woke Bud to go on his early Sunday morning paper route. I had the lamp on, so he came back to see what was happening. I feigned sleep, and he gently took the book out of my hand, pulled the quilt up to my chin and turned out the lamp. He was such a sweetheart of a brother... and still is, actually, my sweet brother.

I have always been a voracious reader. One day, when I was supposed to be helping my mother with Spring cleaning, I was hiding out in the attic reading "Gone with the Wind." The attic was a portion of the second floor. At the head of the stairs if you turned right and opened a door, you entered this wonderland. All sorts of marvelous things were stored in the attic including a large collection of Big Little Books. Because I was supposed to be helping, mother called and called, but I sat as still as a mouse in the attic reading. I imagine mother knew where I was, but knew she could get more done if I wasn't trying to help.

I am amused at myself that I still have these very books in my hands. After sixty some years, I still feel an attachment to the books and the memories they evoke. Now, if only I had that collection of Big Little Books... that would be a treasure trove. Do you all remember what they were like? Great fun.

Take care.

Bellyaching 1

NEVER hesitate to beat the drum for a new blog. I depend on your feedback for encouragement. I am having a bit of trouble with the blog master, so this is not Memories 7, but bellyaching 1.

We are home. Fall approaches. George is recovering just fine from his gallbladder surgery, but now his sciatica/herniated disk in his spine is acting up as he has been unable to do all of the exercises he was assigned and which were really helping him. He cannot at the present moment get out of his recliner. Hmmm. I'll let you know how this progresses.

I have figured out how to upload a picture (download?) from my camera. It was necessary to give my little sweetie, the computer, a different command and there it was. Now I am having difficulty getting the blog to download the picture. Endless irritations. As long as I have ultimate success, I don't mind a few bumps along the road.

Remember to beat the drum. Multiple drums are just the greatest! Take care

Memories 7

Tah Dah!!

This is a picture from a year ago or so. We never made it to Virginia. We got to the Holiday Inn and George was stricken with GREAT PAIN about 2 am. So all of our flight plans got cancelled on the spot and in the morning we found a hospital which had walk-in-care. We entered at 8:45 am and left at 4:15 pm. George had every diagnostic test until they determined that his Gall bladder had to be removed NOW. So the doctor called MeritCare and a surgeon there (Blessings on all the doctors and nurses) and by 6 or so, George was having his gall bladder removed by laproscopic (sp.) surgery. Voila. He's doing well today and we trundled home to Evansville. Ah, the miracles of modern surgery. I had my gallbladder removed some years ago, and it was a major slicing deal. This new way is really slick.

We will have to trundle off to Virginia again soon, but, for now, we are content to sit in our recliners and recover. Oofta.

Take care!

Hmmmmmmmmmmmm.

This is a picture of George and Matthew contemplating the chess board when we were at Lake Anna.

I am interested in your comment, Naomi, about Grandpa's temper. He was "risible." The quality that made it easy for him to be funny and laugh, also made it easy for him to "fly off the handle." I remember his taking us out into the yard to pick a slender branch that he would devest of its leaves and make into a "switch." He would hang that switch in the kitchen above and behind the mirror that hung above the sink. Then when we were being difficult, he would look at the switch with a great and horrific scowl, and we would laugh. He never actually used the switch, he would just use it in that good humored way to help us change the activity, whatever it was.

I found myself using this technique in teaching. I would make a hideous face and slam a book on the desk to shock the students out of bad behavior. Never had to do any more. They would laugh because the faces I made were so awful, they were funny.

We kids learned that dad would "blow up" about small things, but when real emergencies arose he was always there ready to do whatever was necessary. Broken bones or illnesses were handled with great care and attention. He always "had our backs" as the kids say now.

I have an endless store of stories about my dad. I will trickle them out for your amusement and amazement as time goes on. And then there's mom. Wow. You will have to stay tuned to get all of these memories into your own memory box.

Take care.

Memories - 6

I am the baby of my family. My sister Fran is 10 years older than I and Bud is 6 years older.
Our family has always had a love affair with Lake Waubesa outside of McFarland, Wisconsin. Now people have all kinds of fancy speedboats and sailboats, but when I was a child we seemed to have lots of "make-do" boats.

Dad was always patching up rowboats and I have the vestige of a remembrance of his building a boat in the basement.

One summer day, Bud and I took one of our fabulous leaky rowboats for a trek around the lake. We went for quite a ways before we realized that the boat was leaking badly. Turns out all we had to bail with were two little coasters. We made sure to stay close to shore so we could abandon ship if necessary without drowning. We worked like mad, I bailing and he rowing, and we finally got home safely to the lagoon.

Dad had two trailers set up down on the lagoon which fed into the lake. In that way, Fran and her friends could stay in one trailer, and Bud could stay in the other trailer to stand guard! There was a little store on the lakeshore where Mrs. Barr would make us small pies as a special treat. I didn't get to go with Fran, of course, but when she was gone off to college and grown up, I got my chance.

Dad would always take me to do things once. He took me hunting rabbits out around Mud Lake, once. He took me fishing over by Hog Island, once.

The time we went fishing, we were over on the other side of Lake Waubesa when the motor ran out of gas. He had to row all the way home. He was fussing and fuming. I was sitting quiet as a mouse. When we got back, we rushed home, he rushed up the stairs and woke Bud from a sound sleep to accuse him of not putting gas in the motor on purpose. Of course, on cooler consideration, he knew that was foolish.

The adventures of our family on Lake Waubesa continue to this very day, as Bud's offspring continue to live on the shores of Lake Waubesa. Living on the lake is lots of work, but the fun seems to outweigh the chores. Boating of every kind is in our blood.

Take care.

yippee

Did you notice the second comment on the last blog? Izzy is back in this cyber-space world. I was so ecstatic to hear from him and Enid that I'm sure I shouted a little shout!

As to why a dill pickle would be bad if you had mumps. I can't explain the technical reason, but I think because the glands in your neck are all swollen that when the dill pickle (which is acid and vinegar) hits those glands, WATCH OUT. You will just have to take my word for it that it hurts big time.

My camera does not want to connect to my computer at the present, so I am going to have to go shopping for a new one. I'm shopping the internet, but I will wait until we visit out east to go shopping with the expert advice of my son. For the present, I cannot include pix of stuff I have collected which give me memories of the past.

At our book club we talked about the book, "Catseye" or "Cat's Eye." Margaret Atwood is the author of this fantastic book. It takes real courage to read, as the plight of the young girl is so traumatic it is almost painful to think about. Actually, it is not "almost" painful, it is excrutiating. I have been remembering the moments of the past in this blog, but she is such a master of the details of each thing. She describes how they washed clothes, and each of us four members of the book club lit up as we went through each detail. We can remember all of the things she describes. Of course, we are all old enough to do so!

The air is crisp, the sun is shining, the leaves are almost all off the trees, it is a beautiful fall day. Take advantage of this short hiatus before the snow flakes fall. Wahoo.

Take care.

Memories 5

This is a picture of my brother and his wife, Elaine, with their great-grandchild, Mattias. I have lost track of how many great-grandchildren they have.

Many of the memories I have of my early childhood involve my brother. I always called him "Bud" so that is how I will refer to him in these blogs. He has been an inspiration to me throughout my life. The sad thing about aging is that it is difficult to get together with those who mean so much to you, but memories perhaps will bridge the gap.

As an adult he has become famous in the family for his "Laughing Man" stories. A story with many convolutions as the heroes (mysteriously resembling those to whom he is telling the stories) find their way through the jungle/woods filled with shadows and incipient terror. And then ---- the terrible laugh of the "Laughing Man"... and finally, a way out.

Bud was and has always been my hero. He was the greatest brother a girl could ever have. The only really mean trick he ever played on me was when he experimented with giving me a dill pickle when I had the mumps. We discovered that it REALLY DID HURT. I must admit that I probably would get the prize for being the peskiest little sister possible. I always wanted to be right in the middle of everything.

Bud has always been very involved in the Boy Scouts and he was going for a merit badge for camping so he took me with him while he set up his campsite near Lake Waubesa. He had the tent up and the little ditch dug around the tent, when all of a sudden he realized he had done all these preparations in the middle of a cow pasture. All had to be moved to the other side of a fence. He sent me out to hunt for a spring, and I proceeded to look for a long time thinking he meant a bed spring, not knowing what a water spring was.

More about my dear brother next posting. Take care.

Memories - 4

I was very cute as a small child, and my brother made a big fuss over me. He would take me to his Boy Scout meetings in his wagon, and I became a sort of mascot. Later, when I wasn't so cute anymore and had graduated into the pest category, he no longer took me along. This infuriated me, and I would chase after him until he outdistanced me.

I seemed to make it a habit to be infuriated. I remember having a temper tantrum lying on the floor between the kitchen and dining room. Mother was setting the table and she ignored me completely by just stepping over my screaming, kicking body. Now there was a woman who knew how to handle a kid!

I remember my father coming home from the bank for his noon meal and a short power nap on the couch. The couch was a black mohair affair. When it was time for him to return to work, mother would tell me I could awaken him. I would go and try to pull him off the couch. After about three tries, he would roll off the couch with great moans and groans, roll out into the room and give me a big thrill.

My father had a favorite red oblong eraser. He misplaced it and I found it. He made a big fuss about my great feat, and after that, whenever I wanted a favor, I would scootch up to him, bat my eyes and say, "Raser, daddy" and he would laugh and give me what I asked for. Another thing he would do is lift me up high, hug me tight with my face up close to his and say, "Hearts are flying!"

My heart is flying out to all of you today! Take care

Memories - 4

Memory - 3

This is a picture of me on a tricycle. It is staged at the photographers, but I certainly DID have a great trike at home. Our house was organized in such a way that I could ride round and round through the rooms in a circle if all the doors were open. Mother would play Billy Goat Gruff with me when I would ride under the ironing board.

One day I inadvertently rode my trike down the basement stairs. There was a landing half way down where the stairs changed at right angles. I arrived at the bottom of the stairs still upright on my trusty trike, none the worse for wear.

Right there at the bottom of the steps, if you turned left, you would find the big bin for keeping potatoes. Every once in a while we would investigate to be sure there were no rotten potatoes, as they would spoil the whole thing.

There were also lots and lots of shelves for the glass jars in which my mother spent many a long day canning tomatoes and green beans. Because of the war (I suppose I was 1o by then) my dad had a victory garden. We had a super abundance of tomatoes, especially. I would go with him early in the season to help. He had a small man-pushed plow. He made it into a small girl-pulled plow that the man guided. The trouble with being patriotic and having this victory garden was that everyone in our small town was doing the same thing. When the produce came in, you literally couldn't give a tomato away.

Dad solved that problem by taking the harvest to Madison to the back door of restaurants and selling them the sweet home produced fruits of his labors. I can even remember the clothes that I wore on these excursions. I both admired him for his chutzpah and was humiliated at having to make these inquiries at the back doors. It did instill in my being the idea that nothing should be wasted.

A side issue of this was that we would often be eating in the kitchen and be entertained by the sound of an exploding jar of tomatoes in the basement. Then would follow the clean up. We could never eat enough tomatoes to catch up with the shelf life of the jars.

I wish I could figure out how to make the tomato sauce that my mother made. It was slightly sweet with a touch of lemon. Fantastic, but not easy to duplicate. Perhaps it cannot be duplicated because nostalgia has added to the memory of its taste.

Take care.

tah dah!

Naomi has way too much time on her hands, so she decided she would change her blog appearance and I should do the same. Please check her blog out. The link is here on mine.
I actually got to the gym for some rudimentary excercise, but I faded fast. It will take me a bit to get my corpuscles up and running at top speed again. I was disappointed that Fred wasn't there so that we could delve further into the great spider mystery. Soon.

As to the ingredients for my egg salad, they change every time, and I just throw in a bit of this and that. Plenty of finely chopped up onion and dill pickles, a bit of dill pickle juice and lemon juice, some horseradish and REAL mayonaise, none of this diet stuff. oh, yes.... mustard, salt and plenty of pepper. Onion powder. Hmmmm. AND, OF COURSE, HARD COOKED COOLED EGGS mashed up. Whatever else occurs to me. But I like it very tasty, not bland. I love it so much that I don't make it very often because I would eat too much.

This next week I have the book club at my house so I have to start planning our repast. We have come so far that we do variations on the pattern set by Fran. I will probably do the deviled eggs, muffins, sugar free jello. All according to pattern. Carol figured out the greatest topping for the jello. She threw cottage cheese in the blender and let 'er rip until it got to the consistancy of whipped cream. Very tasty and healthy. Yahoo. If I change my menu I will be sure to let you know!

How do you like the new look of my blog? Certainly plain enough. Hmmmm. I'll have to see.

Take care.

tah dah!

Church Bazaar

Because of the state of our health we had to miss our church Bazaar this year. There are certain things we especially missed: the great soup and the egg salad sandwiches. I found myself attempting to make a great soup, and although it didn't measure up to bazaar standards, it was pretty good. Today I boiled up a dozen eggs and made egg salad sandwiches. I actually like my recipe better than almost any other, so that was satisfactory. Now we have to forgo the great pies, lefsa and other goodies. All to the good for little ole diabetic me. George would eat them all, but he is supposedly on a diet.

I love it when men go on a diet. 15 pounds off the first week, no problem. "What have you been moaning and groaning about?" they ask their wives. "Dieting is a snap." Then they get older and get that belly and there is no longer the glibness about dieting. The law of flab has caught up with them. We try not to snigger into our hands but it takes great restraint.

We are looking out at the great weather. Sun makes such a difference. There are still some trees that have kept their colorful leaves. We're feeling better, the weather is great, our spirits are soaring. Wahoo.

Take care.

Memories - 2

Okeedoakee. I'm deep into remembering the basement. I have my studio in our basement, but it is such a different animal than the basement of my youth.

That basement was a wonderful place. Cement floors and unfinished walls were divided into various rooms. The great furnace was endlessly fascinating. It was filled with coal, the ashes had to be cleaned out periodically, and it was controlled by a simplistic little lever in the dining room wall just above.

Dad used it to melt lead in a long handled deal. Then he would pour the lead into molds to make lead soldiers. Now there is so much fuss over lead, but we didn't know the perils of that substance at the time.

I think I was about fourteen when I remember his taking a lump of iron and heating it in the furnace. He held it in a plier and put it as a red hot lump on an anvil. He hammered it, heated it anew and hammered again, until he had fashioned a knife. It took a long time to get it just right and to his requirements.

Now he had a hunting knife blade attached to an elongated piece. He cut circles of thick leather and threaded them over the elongated piece to make the handle, topping it off with a bolt that he told me was from his son-in-law's submarine. It was a hunting knife. He incised "L. Vick" on the side of the handle and gave it to me. It is one of my most valued possessions. I realized that people could make things for pleasure, but also for use. I must admit I have never actually gone hunting or used my knife, but every time I look at it I know the pleasure of being singled out for a gift. A gift that I had seen made from start to finish.

Take care.

Memories-1

I was six years old during the summer of 1936, which was one of the hottest summers on record. We moved cots to the basement and slept there, as it was long before the advent of air conditioning. We took most of our meals down there as well.

I have in my possession this creamer. I was responsible that summer for breaking the sugar bowl that went with it. It is interesting that I keep it, even though I still feel ashamed of my uncontrolled actions that caused the sugar bowl's demise. Nobody bawled me out or anything, but I felt a deep regret that now there was only one of the pair left. So I keep it as a sort of penance and a remembrance of the fun of living in the basement.

Conversely, the winter of 1936 was the coldest and snowiest for many years. One day I walked home from school and got stuck in the driveway. The snow came up to my waist and I could not get out. Eventually someone heard my cries and rescued me. My brother made many tunnels through the yard and would pull me on my sled through them all. They were not really tunnels, but more like halls in the snow, as they had no ceilings.

Be prepared for more memories, as I am in a remembering mode. I hope I trigger some memories in you. Take care.

The Great Big Spider Mystery

I do not have a picture yet for this story. I hope to be able to include one at a later date. I have a note on my computer that says "Fitness Spiders." Lynette swears that when she comes in to open the gym early in the morning, she turns on the lights and huge (saucer size) spiders skitter across the floor, racing to hide. I tried to do some research on the net for this story, and the experts say that there is no such spider possible in Minnesota.
However, several other members swear that they have seen such spiders in their barns. There is even a rumor of such a huge spider that is PINK that has been seen. At present we think that the pink spiders stay in the beauty parlor that adjoins the gym. That would seem to be segregation because pink is a feminine color?
Someone else says she presently has such spiders in the outbuildings of their place.
To date, no one seems to have been able to catch one of these spiders. Freddy makes unmerciful fun of Lynette for having such a phobia of spiders that she sees one spider and magnifies the size by 100 percent merely because of her fright.
I come down on the side that I agree that Lynette sees something of the size she reports, I just doubt that it is technically a spider.
I have been forced by ill-health to be absent from the gym for a bit, so I am not too up to date on this controversy. Can someone bring us up to date?
Take care.

fair weather friends?

Does this picture satisfy better? Hmmmmmmmmm? Both George and I are struck down with coughing and fever. Not fun, but we go to see the doctor tomorrow. hopefully he will have some magical elixir to help us out.

I have spent an inordinate amount of time in my awesome recliner as I start to cough the minute I lay down flat. I do wonder how long the recliner will survive this overuse... oh, well, I can always go hunting for another one. I have been missing the fun at the gym, but I am trying to be a wise person and stay home until I feel better for sure.

Now. Send me an upbeat comment not a belly-aching one. I need positive vibes! Take care.

woe's me

Just thought I would include this sprightly picture to make your day brighter! My kids would recognize the scarf and realize that I have a sore throat. I really do not feel as bad as this picture would indicate, but I can't resist the drama!

I discovered a new book store yesterday in Alexandria. The Cherry Street Book Store. Heaven. I spent three hours there perusing the many volumes and sitting in a very comfortable leather chair. Coffee available. Heaven.

Then I came home and realized that I was getting sick again. sigh. I had had a sore throat the night before, but by the morning it had disappeared. I sighed with relief only to be reattacked later. I should have remembered my mother's dictum: 24 hours without fever before you go out. Oh, well. I now have several books that I got yesterday to entertain me. And, with some chicken broth, I should feel better soon.

Y'all, take care. Luckily the bug will not attack over cyberspace.

Encouragement...

This is a painting of mine that Fran has. It gives us encouragement as we see the plants going into their winter sleep. Spring will come.

I have a friend who does not seem to value her art. She often says that it is just a piece of paper after all. I try to convince her that the paper is not the point. It is the part of her soul that she places on the paper that makes it worthwhile.

The truth is probably in the middle somewhere. I get freedom in my painting by thinking that it is, after all, only a piece of paper. If I screw up, I can start over. It is, after all, only a piece of paper. But then, after the painting gets started and is complete, it is so much more than just a piece of paper. To me it is a sort of miracle. I start out on the clean piece of paper, make some marks and add color, and it becomes something that has not been before. Great fun.

During the last year of his life, when Paul Klee knew he was dying of scleroderma, he painted over 1200 paintings. He just went at it hammer and tongs. One of his paintings looks like a kid with a brown grocery sack over his head. I've thought about the tragedy of that painting. How that must have been how his face felt to him. His face had become a hardening mask. If one does not know the story of his life, the painting is still interesting. Think... He painted over three paintings, on average, each day. It encourages me to just let it rip. Eventually, you will have the courage to let your soul out and onto the paper. Then the paper becomes a painting. And a painting is much more than just the paper. A painting is a life.

Take care

wow! a pair of fours!

Another case of putting a picture in just for fun. This is a picture of an acquaintance of mine. I don't even know which of the girls is my acquaintance, but it's a great picture!

I read over my blog to see what all the fuss is about. What I MEANT to say is that it is hard to know when to stop painting on any particular painting. When the PAINTING is done... but what I did say was something completely different. Sorry about that. Maybe it was my subconscious taking over, as I have had a hard time getting into the painting mode, and perhaps I am pondering whether just to pack it in and sit in a chair and read. Sob, sob. Nope. Not quite yet. Too much to do yet.

We went to the play at the AAAA Theatre in Alexandria. Carol Jean picked me up, we met Karen for a bite to eat at the new Bella's, and then separated. Karen plays flute in the orchestra, and Carol Jean and I had seats P3 and P4 Left to see a rendition of "A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum."

Right away we could see the awesome set. It was designed by Roxanne Sorenson, a fellow artist, and constructed by Quincy Roers. Stellar.

Because I am "hearing challenged" I was concerned about sitting 3/4 of the way back and on the side. The accoustics and sound system was such that I heard 99 percent of all that was said. Fantastic. And the acting was surprisingly good. The main characters were as good as one might see in any of the big city venues. Pete Woit was Pseudolus. His character holds the play together and sings several solos. Excellent. Joe Korkowski was Hysterium and he stole the show. Fabulous acting and good singing. I must say I was surprised at the quality of the production. Hats off to the director, Merlin Peterson.

Watching Joe become convinced that he was "lovely" as Pete had him dressed in a dress was hysterical. The realization of his loveliness that shone from his eyes was so much fun. We had a lovely night out thanks to the Quad A Theatre!

Take care.

When action is best - or not...

I am including a picture just because I like the looks of my blog best when I have a picture included. This is a painting that I entitled "You, too." It belongs to Naomi and Tony as a gift from Tony's mom.

As an addendum to the question that I posed to you in my last blog, when is it best to act and when is it better to contemplate and wait a bit? The most difficult thing about painting is when is the painting done? When should one quit? That is a sort of corollary to the question I posed about life - and collar bones.

Sometimes the need for immediate action is obvious. Someone gets hurt right in front of us and we are obligated to assist. But sometimes the need for playing a waiting game should be obvious. When a teenager gets in to trouble, should his parent rush to assist him/her, or let him/her stew in the difficulties to learn that there are consequences to actions. It is easy to rush in too soon. We all have needed the wisdom of Solomon during the growing up years of our children.

Now, I have the luxury of worrying about whether it is time to stop painting... the painting is finished.... or not???????? And the endless little things related to health issues. Should I go and have my symptom checked out or wait awhile. Hm? Each thing should be decided on its own merits is what I have decided. Hopefully we all make the right decision. Take care.

customs

There are various differences in the treatment of injuries in each country. When we were living in Brazil, John broke his collarbone. I wish I had the patience to hunt up a picture of how he looked after his treatment. He had a full torso cast with his arm also encased at a right angle to his torso. For many weeks he existed in this manner, unable to do much of anything except walk and sit. As I remember it was his left arm, so at least he could write as he is right handed. It was a major health issue.
When we had returned to the States, he once again broke a collarbone playing football, I think. He went to the doctor and returned in just the same state as when he went. They had done NOTHING to the boy. I went and inquired as to what the treatment was. They said, oh, it would heal itself, but if I was not satisfied with that, they could rig up a sling that he could wear.
I was simply amazed at the difference in the treatments for the same injury. The collarbone did mend itself and all was well.
The trouble with the Brazilian treatment is that it affected so much of his boy-life. It kept him from sports and any other activities. Even sleep was difficult. Amazing.
When no treatment was probably the best way. At least, it seemed to work perfectly later.
I wonder if we complicate matters in other ways, when if we would just wait awhile, things would correct themselves. What do you think?
Take care.

Yeah, right

That's four comments? Two people chatting back and forth? C'mon. The comments were entertaining, however, so I'll allow it this time. Right.
I am doing more and more things as I feel better. Drove to Battle Lake yesterday for a board meeting. Sat through the board meeting! Ate lunch and chatted with my friends and drove home. Went to the doctor in the afternoon. Came home exhausted and fell asleep in the comfy recliner for three hours. Oh, yeah, I'm really frisky!
I looked up the word "chatelaine" which describes a type of adornment worn by women who were heads of households or castles (!) to hold the household keys or instruments needed for needlework, etc. So it would be more romantic, perhaps, to call my deal a chatelaine. The lanyard is a nautical term for the neck rope used for the suspension of a whistle. I do have a whistle I could suspend on my deal, I suppose, but for what purpose? To defend myself from the ravening hordes at the gym? When they get out of hand I could blow my whistle? But who would come to rescue me? HMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM? Who?
Well, enough nonsense for one day. Hope to get to the gym this morning to laugh with the hordes of hula hoopers there. After my illness they have at least stopped pestering me to try the hula hoop. I must be thankful for small favors.
Take care.

wow

Six comments! I'm absolutely agog.

I forgot to tell you about something from the stay at Lake Anna... in Virgina. One of the women who was there was injured in a waterski accident. She wiped out and hurt an already chancy hip condition. So for most of the time she was hobbling around with crutches. Her name was Gina, I thought, but it turns out it was Jeanna. She works with horses and had some stuff with her put out by Mane and Tail called Hoof Maker! It can be used by people like me who have disappearing fingernails. I've griped about this for many a long year with no help in sight. THIS STUFF SEEMS TO WORK!.... I haven't been able to find Mane and Tail products locally, but I found Farnum Hoof Saver at Fleet Farm. We'll see if that is as good. I am so excited. If any of you know where they have Mane and Tail products locally please let me know.

It's so much fun for me to read Fran's memoir of her life. I suppose she was 12 years old before I would have any chance of remembering anything of our family life, so her memories are very cherished by me. I will try to start writing to match her assignments. We'll see the differences that occur! Fun.

Take care... and remember the magic of four.