Just ask anybody!

They will tell you there are two day out of the whole year about which my whole world revolves. Each of these days I anticipate and prepare for...excitement growing.  One I love and one I hate (yes, I know hate is a very extreme word)...okay, okay, one I dislike.

For a lot of years I thought I was the only one emotionally attached to these two days so I sort of kept my feelings about them to myself.  I do a lot of peering out the windows of my home secretly hoping I can prevent one of them from ever happening, while wishing the other could happen sooner.  I tell ya' my life's been a roller coaster ride. Then a couple of years back these days came up in a conversation I had with one of my daughters and found out she had a...a...a...thing about these two days as well.  I was taken aback.  Whew, it felt good to talk about it.

There are plenty of signs these days are coming, matter of fact they are both imprinted on the calendars I buy each year.  So you see, they do not come as a surprise.  Of course I'm talking about the Summer and Winter Solstice.  I hate...'er dislike the summer one and can't wait until the winter one arrives.  Guess what?

The other day I was pondering and gazing out my window as twilight approached around the 5 O'clock hour when it hit me...Wasn't it just about time for the Winter Solstice?

My heart began to race, my hands began to sweat and I almost fell over Zorro in my haste to get to my calendar.  I flipped the page over to December and checked the date it clearly showed the magical day was on the 22nd.  I turned the page back to November and began to count.  At the time the number was 40...it's even less today.  Whoop, whoop.

So be prepared because on that day I'm going to be doing my hippity, happity, giggity, diggity dance. And the climb begins back to the second day of the year that I'm not quite so crazy about; there's never any dancing on that day.

So,

I'm washing potatoes and happen to say to nobody in particular.  "I wonder why people used to say it was okay to eat a peck of dirt a year?"

Frankie rolls her eyes, "You mean in 'olden' days?"

I smile broadly knowing I've got her hooked into a conversation.  "If you say so."

She puts her elbows on the kitchen counter and leans in to inspect the potatoes nestled into the bottom of the pot.  "You missed a spot."

"Think about it Frankie. I had an Aunt that swore it was okay to eat a peck of dirt a year and we would go pluck a radish from the garden, rub some of the dirt off on our sleeve and give that thing a darn good chomp.  Today, I don't think I would be willing to do that."

"Okay," Frankie sighs deeply, "just why is that?"

I clear my throat ready to pontificate.

"I think dirt was cleaner in 'olden days'."

Frankie loses it practically rolling on the floor.  "Cleaner dirt...baaa, haaa, haaa, gasp, giggle, giggle...cleaner dirt...gasp, gasp."

"No, seriously.  Think about it.  When America was but a babe the soil was virgin, mostly untouched by human beings.  Oh sure, animals did their business here and there but mostly the soil was clean and pure."  

Suddenly Frankie shows an interest.

"Then for a long time we continued to take care of the land, tilling it, planting crops then harvesting them.  We even learned to rotate crops so we didn't drain the soil of valuable nutrients."

Frankie:  "I sense an 'oh then' moment coming."

"You're right, and then the population grew and we needed more food to feed it.  In order for that to happen science got involved, fertilizers were concocted and crops grew better, but at the same time the soil was being...for lack of a better word...contaminated."

Frankie grimaces.

Me:  (I know I'm on a roll.)  "Oh, now imagine this...science then decided to add stuff to the seeds in order to grow better corn, tomatoes...everything.  Sure we got better harvests and that's a good thing, right?  But now I'm not so sure I would want to go into a garden pluck a radish, rub it against the sleeve of my shirt and eat it unwashed."    

Frankie remains quiet, but I can tell she's pondering.  I think I've given her food for thought.

I'm pondering too, about the good old 'olden days' when I could go out to my dad's garden and pluck a radish to eat.  Maybe that's what's wrong with me; it's been a long time since I've eaten a peck of dirt a year.

I go back to washing the potatoes.

Where does the time go?

Seriously, somebody please tell me, where does the time go?

I've been meaning to write but somehow 'stuff' keeps getting in the way.  First, I spent one day boxing up what I call my October (fall) decorations and dragged them to the garage.  Then (same day) I drug in the boxes containing all my Thanksgiving decorations setting them up all around the apartment.  This 'exchange' job takes longer now because my garage is not attached to my apartment which requires me to trek back and forth, back and forth from here to there, there to here. I purposely didn't exercise that day because I knew I'd be getting plenty not only with the walking but the schlepping of boxes as well.  Whew!

Then there was the day I did laundry.  Now, don't get me wrong, I do like my new washer and dryer and the fact they tinkle a little tune when each load has been completed.  I even like the little tune when I open the lid to extract the clothes within.  However (picture me clearing my throat) I do NOT like the length of time it now takes to complete this particular weekly chore.  You see, these appliances think for themselves and while the cycles are 'doing their thing' they will occasionally re-adjust the time. When the load starts the machine clock might say it 'thinks' the load might take an hour, so I walk away to spend the time doing something else. When I walk past the machine I glance at its clock to find that before my very eyes a few minutes have been added to the cycle.  At first this annoyed me I thought something might be wrong with the machine so I dragged out the instruction manual. It informed me this is to be expected and not to worry.

Now we'll talk about the dryer.  After a couple of weeks I discovered a load does not completely dry especially the towels and the waistbands of my sweat pants.  Again I dragged out the instruction book and found I can push a spot on the electronic panel (there are no buttons anymore) to add minutes to the cycle in order to completely dry the clothes.  It seems (so far) the drying process per load takes an hour or more....geeze.

I was not going to buy the extended maintenance policy for five years, but thought better of it. Considering how 'high tech' these machines are I figured if I got the policy they would hummm along for at least that long without causing me much trouble, after which, considering how things are made these days they will probably 'give up the ghost' anyway.

So, the above took up two of the days since I last I wrote.  Then there was the day my granddaughter came to visit which was fun filled and full of action.   Plus there were the days I tried to work from 8 till noon making cards for friends and making new merchandise designs for my store.  In between I'm squeezing in exercising, walking the dog, trying to read, studying, planting bulbs for spring blooms, and sweeping oak leaves off my patios.  Again...WHEW!

No wonder I don't have time to write...I'm exhausted...it's only 9:50 in the morning but I think I need a nap.

Old dogs, new tricks

Okay, okay...I admit it, I was spoiled.  For more than ten years the most work I had to do when it came to grocery shopping was to go on-line and order them from (I don't think I'm supposed to name the grocery chain) and put them away after the driver placed the bags on my living room floor.  Easy-peasy!  I never had to go out in nasty weather!  The wonderful drivers always arrived on time and were always cheerful and friendly.

When I moved I e-mailed this grocery chain and inquired if they delivered to my new area.  I was sooo optimistic.  I waited in antsy anticipation for a response.  I got none except for a short quip that my 'zip code' was not included in their delivery area.  TALK ABOUT A BUMMER!

However, on the up side I have moved much, much closer to one of my daughters, and we have made a deal that when she comes to shop in town she will call me to see if I want to go along.  (So far I've never said "No.")  Yesterday was one of those shopping days.

I have to confess I'm kind of slow on the draw when it comes to physical shopping because I'm so out of practice.  Learning where everything is in a new store takes time and I find myself trekking back and forth across the same aisles looking for what I want to buy.  The nice thing is that some of my grandchildren are always along, and (bless them) one of them volunteers to trek along beside me as I wander lost among the produce, dairy products, cleaning supplies, bakery, etc, etc.  Mind you, they do this all with a smile on their face.  Seriously, there is never a grumble, never a sigh, never a roll of an eye.  Am I lucky or what?

So, after shopping yesterday morning I just happened to have a gift card to a (I don't think I'm supposed to name the restaurant) for a late breakfast or lunch and off we went.  Talk about a fun time, there we were the four of us, chatting it up, eating great food and simply enjoying each other’s company.  I'm thinking this is a habit I could get used to.

Even better, I'm re-discovering shopping.  I already know where the produce and dairy departments are. The rest are sure to follow.  Plus, I love the time I'm spending with family. My daughter is dragging me into the 21st century teaching me to buy with my debit card (apparently people don’t write checks any more) and giving me hints on how to be brave enough to use the 'check yourself out' apparatus.  Imagine that!  Let it never be said you can't teach an old dog new tricks.

I'm a prime example!!!  

Choke, choke!

A couple of days ago I was reminded there are approximately eight weeks till (get ready for it) Christmas. Choke, choke, cough, cough, wheeze, wheeze.  Seriously folks how is that possible? Where in the world has the year gone?

Yesterday my granddaughter visited for the day and while we were out for lunch we stopped by a little shop that just a few weeks ago was filled with all sorts of trinkets for Christmas, and the proprietor told me then it was not too early to 'pick up a few things'.  I told him we would be back.

Imagine my surprise when we stopped in yesterday and I found there were very few Christmas trinkets left.  I was very, very disappointed because I thought for sure nobody would be thinking about Christmas shopping this early.  Well, So much for buying 'just because' trinkets for stocking-stuffers.

However, I decorate my tree every year with birds and red roses and I did manage to find two adorable little Wrens wearing winter caps with scarves around their necks and an intricate red Humming Bird covered in 'spark-lies'.   All three are going to make wonderful additions to the tree.  I wish I could have purchased more things, what a bummer I didn't shop the first day we went in there.

Yes, I hear you saying I should have started doing my shopping sooner rather than later and I used to do that. There was a time I would have all my shopping done by the end of August.  Now wondering why I stopped that practice?  It worked so well at the time.  Maybe I stopped when we decided as a family not to buy a present for each person, and went for a round-robin exchange instead with a limit of three gifts (all under a certain price range). That sure took the pressure off the old wallet, plus it meant I didn't HAVE to budget the Christmas expense over such a large area of time.

Finally, the older I got I discovered really don’t like shopping in the Christmas crowds.  Plus, the noise, hustle, bustle and smothering crowds in the stores don’t exactly thrill me anymore.  I'd much rather sit in my toasty warm office perusing the old Internet where with a finger on my mouse and a 'click, click here, a click, click there...POOF....my shopping is done.

Wow, I just re-read this and it kind of makes me sound like a "Baaa Humbug" kind of person.  That's not the case, trust me.  I enjoy the holiday music, the smell of gingerbread cookies baking in the oven, the red, green, yellow, orange and white sparkling strings of lights.  Then there are my favorite Christmas movies like: We're No Angels, Elf, About a Boy, While You Were Sleeping and a dozen or so more. (Sigh, I’ve so little time to watch!) I decorate just about every room in my home with treasures of old as well as new items that become old treasures.  I like unexpected company, and surprise packages in the mail.  I wish and hope every year that come Christmas morning I pull open the drapes and find a blanket of snow covering lawns, trees and shrubs.  No, I’m definitely not a Baaa Humbug person at all.

There you have it, as I mentioned, there are about eight weeks left till Christmas so little time in which to accomplish so much.  Me thinks we should probably all get busy shopping or else those trinkets we see in the shops today just might be gone tomorrow.

Oh, and should I mention, there are only nine weeks left till the year is over.
Gulp!

Now....

...there's no guarantee I will write every day, but at least my muse has returned which makes me a very happy person.

I don't know where she went for so many months and I suppose I should be angry with her.  I suspect though she should have been angry with me, after all it was I that had abandoned her.  Yep, I kicked her out like yesterday's sludge.  Thank goodness she returned without holding a grudge.

Writing is a crazy kind of thing.  It can come so easily but can go just as easily.  I got to reading some of my old writings while I was settling to my new office and could see how over the years my writing style changed.  I noticed it particularly when I went through my Nature Journals that I kept for about three years.  At first the entries were choppy...short...to the point...what's the number one rule of writing? "Show, don't tell", sadly that is what I was doing the first several months of writing the journals I told I saw a lizard but didn't show his color, how it felt, what it did.  Phooey!  

Fortunately, once I got into it everything I saw had a story to tell and my journals came alive.  I began collection specimen, I began drawing pictures, and I included things that were under my nose for years but never noticed.  I drug my dogs hither and yon searching out leaves, rocks, mosses, insects, tree barks till I had binders chucked full of wonderful 'stuff'.

Then came the years with a word processor (remember those) and writing became much more easy. Finally came the computer and (for me) a whole new world emerged.  Boy, did I write!!!!! Poems? Yep.  Essays? Yep.  Plays? Yep (at least one).  Mostly though I was good at ponders, I pondered A LOT.  Finally my daughter said I should try a blog...I had no idea what a blog was but was willing to give it a go. And I did.

Of course I had a lot of help with my blog there was my Muse, Zorro, CC, the Devil and Angel who sat on my shoulders and finally my wonderful invisible friend Frankie.  True I abandoned them for a while this year but I'm back baby....I'm back.  I'm even considering taking an on-line class in writing, perhaps poetry.

So, all I want to say is check in on this Rambling Old Woman from time to time you might find a poem, an essay, a play and for sure ponders...lots and lots of ponders.

It has been a while. What a ride.

After a long agony, I decided it was time for me to give up my blog.  I admit, was in a 'state'.  I hate when that happens.  Frankie in not so loving a way informed me I was not being nice to my readers and suggested I stop writing.  She was right, so I did.

And, so began probably the worst summer of my life.  It had been three years since I put my home of 40 years on the market, but I decided this time IT WAS THE TIME to try to sell my home once more.

Talk about a nightmare.  My first realtor fired me.  I was devastated.  I was angry.  I was not a nice person to be around.  I went into depression for the first time in my life.  I wallowed for a couple of weeks pondering my future.

I was rapidly running out of funds to continue living in and trying to maintain my home, and contemplated (if I could sell) moving into one of those retirement communities where you begin with independent living, and end up with respite care.  That would sure make it easy on my family.  I researched local communities for months only to find they would be way beyond my means even if I sold my place for half a million dollars....whew....they really are for the rich!!!

After wallowing, Frankie in her usual, FRANK demeanor whopped me upside the head and demanded I take charge and 'put the damn house on the market'.  During the time I wallowed, a Realtor had phoned twice offering to help me sell, but I ignored both calls.  However, one morning I got up the courage and called her.

I told her my tale of woe with other Realtors and she said she could stop by, but if I told her if she didn't feel like she could sell the house the way I wanted, I would simply not waste her or my time.

She stopped by and we had a lovely chat.  She told me "Honey, I'll sell your home anyway you want."

Finally, I had buyers, a young couple.  They were willing to buy the place 'as is'.  Now, please understand, the way was not paved in gold, it was full of potholes that held water, mud and lots of muck. Paperwork, paperwork, paperwork.  Changes in lenders, changes in the closing date, amendments for the very tiniest thing each requiring my signature.  My wonderful Realtor (bless her) stood by me even during one particular phone call where I had a very ugly meltdown. She was a saint!

Then, on August 31st, the movers arrived.  My sister (who came to help me keep my sanity) and I followed the movers through the house vacuuming and dusting until I was told I needed to go to the storage facility so I could be there in advance to direct them to my unit.

Even moving day did not go well.  My sister's car wouldn't start.  I temporarily lost my credit card.  I had Frankie, my cat, dog, sister, her daughter and I to move into a residence motel for nine days until my apartment was ready.  I was exhausted.

Okay...I'm starting to giggle. I guess in retrospect it was not all that bad.  Well, yes it was...it was horrible.  Still I can't help today to see the humor in all that nonsense.  I'm glad I've come from sturdy stock otherwise I would not be where I am today.

Yes, today I am snug as a bug in a rug in a beautiful new apartment in an over age 55 complex that overlooks a golf course.  My patio view is spectacular. straight down a fairway.  Every day is a new adventure.  Zorro has learned to walk on a leash, CC has birds and grey squirrels to 'chicker' at; while geese, mallard ducks and a lone seagull meander up and down the course.  And finally, Frankie has had no reason to 'chicker' at me anymore.

Life is good once again folks...life is INDEED good.

P.S.  I know 'chicker' is not a word...I just made it up.  You can use it anytime you want.

Over the years

…though there have been just a few, one summer morning I wake up and realize it is the perfect morning to begin a vacation.  Oh, I'm not going to do that today, but the conditions are perfect for someone, anyone to be opening the trunk of their car and putting their suitcases into it.

If it were me, I can see myself, preparing snacks to munch along the way and a tall (mostly ice cube filled) container of water sitting on the kitchen counter next to my purse with my house keys sitting alongside.

Zorro and Frankie are so excited they can barely contain themselves.  They know something wonderful is about to happen.  Frankie pretends to be reading the colorful brochures of the places we are going to see.  She sits.  She stands weight on one foot and then the other. She sits.  Zorro of course wonders if he is going to participate or be stuck at home with some stranger checking in on him from time to time.

I wander through the house, checking locked windows and doors, make sure last potty breaks were taken and that the toilets are NOT idly running.  I know lights are on timers, mail service has been stopped, neighbors have been notified we will be gone, and one in particular has our itinerary 'just in case'.

By now, I've a gigantic lump of excitement in my throat, I run through all the things on my hand written note, my #2 pencil making various sized check marks as I go.  One last hasty walk through the house and I'm finally standing at my front door.  Frankie is making her way to the car; Zorro gives me a quizzical look as if to say, “Is this my final potty break?”

I breathe in the cool, rose and lemon mint scented air.  Bees flit by.  Summer birds sing.  I glance at the outdoor thermometer the temperature reads a perfect 68 degrees.  The sky is a cloudless amethyst blue.  I close the door and gaze around my neighborhood full of 'comfortable' while Frankie, Zorro and I begin a venture into the unknown and places never seen.  We're going to eat things we've never had before in quaint small town diners and sleep in uncomfortable beds not quite our own.  We'll stop at every local historical, natural and tourist trap to buy things that will eventually sit in draws or shelves gathering dust.

And finally we’ll come home; tired and weary yet eager to see things familiar...our freeway off ramp, the fast food joints, the neighborhood gas station, the neighborhood store and school.  Oh...there it is! The four way stop with blinking light and finally...our street...our block...our home.

Sigh.

Today would be a perfect day to start a vacation.

My Mountain Ash

There is a Mountain Ash tree in my neighbor's back yard I can clearly see from my office window. I've watched it grow from a sapling I tended for a few years while the house sat empty.   Over the years it grew to adulthood and my sapling tending has since given it the appearance of a man being 'held up' in some alleyway.  Its mouth in oblong '0', arms outstretched on either side of the main trunk.

Last year I reported the armpits had grown hair in the form of bright green moss giving the tree an even more human appearance.  I never know what to expect from this Ash from year to year.

This year something even more unexpected has happened.  Oh, the armpits are still distinguished, but the arm on its left has grown the start of new branches.  They started out tiny, and I suspected they would not survive the crazy spring weather we've had.

Well, color me surprised.  The all the newbies have indeed survived and are already well over two feet long, with still a long growing season ahead.  It will be interesting to see just how big and long they will be by the leaf shedding time.

Sadly, the tree is losing its human appearance, because the new branches are slowly covering the '0', and the left armpit will be behind them.  I so enjoy nature because there are always surprises, sometimes they are tiny and can be easily missed like the half robin's egg I found in my front yard a few days ago.  But, sometimes they are large and change the face of my environment in dramatic and pleasant ways.  Thank you Mountain Ash.

Frankie says...

yesterday's blog was a real downer.  And it was.  I'm here today to apologize.  I think it's time I put this whole thing to bed, and move on.

Frankie, Zorro, CC and I appreciate your input and loyalty.  I hope your lives continue to be happy and all your dreams are fulfilled.  Best wishes to all....

...and to all a good night.

I've been away...

...far, far away in the land of real estate.  It's a dark and ugly place. I'd like to report I can see the light at the end of this cave, but that is not the case.

My Realtor says if there are two cars on a used car lot, one is clean, pretty and shiny while the other has been sitting for a while and has some rust, dust and dried rain drop streams down the windshield, which car would you buy?  

I've given this serious thought.  So, I've been cleaning, pretty-fying and shining things up.

There have also been hurdles to jump, they have been high and for a short person not easy to jump...I keep trying.

Trust me...selling your home is not for the faint of heart, and definitely not easy for 'old people'.  The flyer states "Charming one level home", I guess that's true, however I think I would label it "Old Woman Homestead"; yep, we both have some rust, dust and dried raindrops streaming down the windows, and sometimes tears down my cheeks.

I hope this is all worth it.

It's gonna be....

.....a long day.  New floor in bathroom and vapor barrier under house.  Sigh.

So, sorry.

As you know I'm in the process of (not just thinking about) but actually putting my home on the market (AGAIN).  My new Realtor is 100 degrees different from my first and most of my time is spent working on the house getting it ready to put on the market, hopefully late next week.  As a result I have very little time for work, or for writing, or for even finding time to eat what with people in and out of my house at all hours.

As for my blog it has been badly neglected.  I hope you will bear with me and continue to check for a new entry.  I will be back, I promise.  In the meantime I'm trying to keep my wits about me, I think I'm doing pretty well...mostly...oh, there are times I'm reduced to a puddle of tears but I pick myself up, dry myself off and carry on.

I've come to believe moving goes much better when you are younger, although the stress is exactly the same, youth seems to float with the current, while I on the other hand want to reach out for a branch and hang on.

What an adventure.  I will keep you posted as I have the time.  Thanks for hanging on with me to my precarious branch I appreciate it more than you know.

Where has the time gone?

After being thrown into such a tizzy last week over the fact I have been out of high school for 60 years I have lost all track of time.  Frankie says I've been "bouncing off the walls"...her words not mine.

Actually she's right. I'm getting closer and closer to making that 'big change' in my life and some days I'm really upbeat and ready, while some days my heart flutters and I find I want to breathe into a paper bag.  I'm glad Frankie is here, she's the yin to my yang.

Over the last couple of years I've been reading my I-Ching and horoscope and the particular website I visit has been pretty darn accurate in keeping me grounded.  Seriously, it's as though they know me on a personal basis and after I check out my daily read I often sigh with relief.  Take today's reading:

"The good news is that you are on the receiving end of more encouragement now than you dreamed possible. However, the bad news is everyone seems to have an agenda that's different from yours. You would love to embrace their support, but you don't want to alter your plans for any reason. Although there's no quick solution to this dilemma, it's best to graciously accept the assistance rather than to fearfully push it away. Thankfully, the full story will come out sooner than you expect, clearing the air once and for all."

Considering the changes I want to make for myself and my little family, today's reading has some mysterious connotations I don't quite understand...yet.  I feel as though I'm about to start a boulder rolling down a steep hill and envision that boulder bouncing out of control hitting trees, road signs, other boulders as it picks up speed careening to the bottom of the hill.  I'm running as fast and hard as I can behind it screaming "Look out!"  "Get out of the way!"

Ain't I too old for this kind of nonsense?  Shouldn't I be lounging in the sun somewhere feet up, with some kind of exotic drink that has an umbrella and wedge of pineapple floating on top?  Sigh.

I guess not.  Instead I'm thinking about selling my home and moving into a retirement community where somebody will take care of me, Frankie, Zorro and CC as well.

Frankie's standing here looking over my shoulder, leaning against my chair causing it to shudder. She says I'm not chasing the boulder...I am the boulder.  She's the one screaming "Look out!"  "Get out of the way!"  See, I told you she's the yin to my yang.  I think I'm going to let her be in control.

Meantime, I'll try to take it day by day and let my future unfold however it should.  As my reading said this morning.  "Thankfully, the full story will come out...sooner than you expect"  Let's hope I'm up to the challenge.

Well, that's depressing!

I enjoy my trek to my mailbox every day, I don't care what the weather is, I simply look forward to whatever surprise lies within...usually.  I like glossy catalogs, local mailers with coupons and yes, I confess even bills (most of the time).  Zorro enjoys the jaunt out to the mailbox as well and bounds up and down the front yard next to the curb. 

I frequently put the mail on the front stoop and spend a little time pulling weeds or perhaps trimming a shrub or two.  It's the kind of exercise that's good for my soul.

Yesterday the trip was not as delightful as usual.  There was one piece of mail and before I pulled it from the dark interior of the box I could tell it was not a catalog, local mailer or even a bill. This appeared to be (hold on to your boot straps) an actual letter, the envelope had actual handwriting on it.  Be still my heart.

I recognized the return name and address; it was of an old friend.  Uh-oh I think to myself, this can't be good news.  Heart pounding and breath quickening I hastily and messily ripped the envelope open.  I wish I hadn't bothered.  The letter started thusly.

"Dear Friends,

We graduated from high school 60 years ago!!!  Amazing!!"

(Gasp, cough, sputter, cough, choke, choke, gasp, sputter, sputter.)

"Our celebration will be on Saturday, September 12."

By now I had sunk, actually slunk into the corner of my sofa, rapped my arms around my legs and went into shock.  60 years!!!  60 years!!! How the hell did that happen???  NOOOOOOO!!!!!!  60 years is for old people.  I'm not old people!  Maybe my classmates are...but I'm NOT old people.

I was in a tizzy.  I could feel a panic attack coming.  I dial my sister...answer, please answer.

Ring.

Ring. (Please be there.)

Ring! (Heart beating faster.)

Ring!!! (AHHHHHH!  Pick up!  Pick up!)

She finally answered her phone.  Oh, I laid it on thick; I tried to get her to tell me this was some kind of horrid error.  Surely, goodness and mercy I could not be out of school for (gulp) 60 years.  Please, please tell me this is not true.
She could not.

Eventually I calmed down enough to become coherent and after we reminisced for a while I was able to accept the fact the years have flown by. But accepting the fact I've been a graduate for sixty years is pretty overwhelming.  I can't help thinking about the woman in the commercial saying she didn't need one of those emergency buttons and says "They're for old people."  Surely the same holds true for my class reunion in September.  It is definitely for "old people".

Am I going to attend?  No.  I've done all the traveling I have ever wanted to do in my lifetime.  Plus, it is simply no fun flying any more, just going through the airport is more trouble than the trip is worth.  I'll be there in spirit though, and will look forward to follow up letters regarding who did attend, what they are doing, and where they are now.  


After yesterday's shock imagine how I'm going to react five years from now when I get another letter telling me the 65th reunion is about to happen.  Oh, brother, maybe...if the Lord's willin' and the creek don't rise...and I'm still in my right mind...I might go, just to see who's out living me.

Hummm, de, dummm.

I told Frankie I couldn't think of anything to write this morning.  She gave me a look. I'm not sure how to explain it, it was sort of like 'You've got to be kidding.', and 'What? You speechless'.  Then, without a word she turned and walked away.

Well, so much for support and caring.

Maybe I'll just ramble and see what tumbles out of the old noggin'.

Here's news.  My house was so warm this morning I didn't have to turn on any heat, the last time that happened was probably mid-November.  Funny thing is, I didn't realize I had not turned it on until I was halfway through my exercise program when I realize I'm starting to perspire and go to turn the heat off.  It must be close to spring.

My friend who lives in South Africa is in the States, she messaged me yesterday asking for my phone number as she is going to be here in Oregon next week.  I'm hoping she'll have a little time to come see me, but since she not going to be here long I'll be delighted with a simple phone call.  I do love that woman.

Speaking of phones.  Mine went berserk night before last.  I was in the middle of a conversation with a friend in PA, when the phone went dead.  I hate that I sit there for several seconds shouting hello, hello, helloooo, hellllooooooooooooo even though I know nobody is there.  I tried to call my friend back but got a busy signal and I figured she was trying to call me so I hung up.  I did not get a call-back.  I tried to dial her again, but instead of a dial tone I got beeping.  Uh-oh, that's not good, I thought perhaps she had not properly hung up her phone and the line was still open so I moved on to other things.  I knew eventually she would discover the problem and everything would be hunky-dory again.  In the meantime I moved on to other things.

Little did I know I was also without Internet access.  Well, that just sucked.  I went to bed grumbling and lay there contemplating how I would clear up this mess.  I had several scenarios in mind none of which appeared to have a simple solution.  I slept fitfully.  Guess what? When I awoke and tried to use the phone, all was well.  I gave The Man Upstairs a great big 'thank you' for that.  In conclusion, I guess my server was at fault...sometimes it's not good to be 'bundled'.

Then, yesterday I was getting ready for Bible study when I got a call my study partner was not going to be able to come.  Geeze, all my dusting and vacuuming was for naught.  Oh well.  We are going to study on Friday instead...I hope she does not think I'm going to dust and vacuum again....LOL.  I'll just walk around and give the furniture a good huff and puff, what dust blows off will have to do.

Finally, I'm still working on standing erect without using my hands for support. Sometimes it is quite easy while other times I simply can't get my butt off whatever seat I happen to be in.  I can't figure out what makes the difference.  Maybe I'm not concentrating hard enough.  However I'm not about to give up, it is getting more easy day by day.

Oh, remember I told you some time ago Bobby, my shield bug died?  Since the weather has been so wonderful I've had windows and doors open, and another bug somehow got into the house.  I didn't realize it until night before last when I was in bed working a crossword puzzle and I heard a bzzzzz.  I look down and there's a shield bug on my blanket.  Well, I don't mind one camping indoors over the winter, but it's time to start a family so no loitering allowed.  I scooped the rascal up, opened the front door and gently placed him on the stoop.  Silly bug.

There you have it, this is just a bunch of Ramblings of an Old Woman.

Have a great day.

Beep, beep...look out world!!!!!

Last night I was watching a show on BBC America called "Mud, Sweat and Gears". Of course it's a show dealing with automobiles.  I get a real kick out of shows dealing with cars.  This one (I think) is pretty new and I was immediately hooked.  It involves two teams of three people pitted against each other.  They have to soup up clunkers and have to try to get their cars to survive three extreme tests. The car that loses gets blown up at the end of the show.

Anyway...last night as the show began, one of the teams happened to have close by a very strange looking car, and the presenter (the BBC word for host) was explaining to his team what the car was. It was one of the Google Mapping Vehicles.  I was fascinated.  It was white and bright green and had this humongous 'thing' on the roof that held cameras which apparently could take pictures in the round.  These vehicles have been going round the world, making a visual Atlas.

I use Google Maps a lot; I'm curious and want to see where people I know live.  And, after seeing one of Google's mapping vehicles I now understand how they got the pictures of intersections...the cameras mounted like a monstrosity on the roof of the vehicles simply panned around it in a constant and very smooth way.  Awesome!  But, here's the thing. How did I not see this vehicle when it was on my street?  It must have stopped at my intersection, stayed there for at least a minute, panning, before moving further up my street.  Seriously...it drove past my house...how did I miss that?  I'm quite aware this happened because I've been on Google Maps many, many times and I've seen my house.
 
Matter of fact, I've been many places using Google Maps check out places I've lived over the years and have seen them all except for one.  As close as I could come to that particular one is a few blocks away where I can see that intersection quite well.  I'd have never recognized it if I'd been dropped there by some alien vessel but thanks to Google Maps I would now.

What's fascinating about all of this is how small the world has become, and how close Google Maps can get me to where you live.  I can see your residence starting from outer space, zoom in, zoom in, and zoom in again until I can see your driveway, your car and almost peek in your living room window.  Is this an invasion of your and my privacy?  I suspect so.  I've been told there's a way to remove your home from the mapping, but I figure what's the use in that I'm sure Realtors already have it recorded in their records and I'm sure my County Tax Assessor's office does, too.

Shoot, once more I've digressed.  What this blog is really about is the Google Mapping Vehicles and how clever Google engineers, researchers and scientists were to come up with the whole system of mapping the world; it boggles my mind.  If you've never had the opportunity to discover these maps, you should.  It is amazing. The program is very easy to use and it will take you just about anywhere in the world you will probably never be able to go, and give you the next best thing to actually walking up to and knocking on your friend's or family's front door.  Try it, you’ll love it.

I'm very sorry I missed the mapping of my neighborhood, street and house.  Had I known Google was going to do that I would have stood in my front yard and waved to the world.  Imagine my image standing at my curb for the whole world to see, waving forever and ever, and ever.

Vog???

Last week while checking one of my daily 'bookmarked' web sites I noticed a new word in the body of the copy.  It's a NASA website that everyday shows wonderful pictures of the planet we live on. Some days the pictures blow my mind.

Anyway, last week one of the pictures used the word 'vog', describing what looked like fog in the picture.  I figured it was probably a typo which is something I'm very familiar and let it go at that.

Then this morning the picture was of the Hawaiian Islands from space and superimposed on it was the word 'vog'.  Now I'm very curious what the heck is 'vog'? I scroll down to the article hoping I might discover what 'vog' is.  This time I got lucky.  First, it's not a typo. It is an actual something.

According to the article, 'vog' is a haze that is a combination of fog, smog and volcanic gas...in other words pollution.  According to the (Hawaiian Volcano Observatory) "Vog is scientifically defined as “a visible haze comprised of gas and an aerosol of tiny particles and acidic droplets, created when sulfur dioxide and other gases chemically interact with sunlight and atmospheric oxygen, moisture, and dust.”"  Wow, that sounds awful.

I decided to check my dictionary, which was published in 1999 to see if the word was listed there, it wasn't.  I'm not sure why, but that surprised me.  So I decided to delve into this vexing word 'vog'.

It is mentioned in Wikipedia, but strictly from a scientific observation. I wanted to know its origin. Of course this can't be 100% substantiated, but I learned there are at least two possibilities. One is that a Hawaiian Teruo 'Buddy' Watanabe coined the word as far back as 1965, while the other states Reginald "Reggie" Okamura used the word sometime during the mid 1980's.  I guess it doesn't matter who coined the word or when, apparently 'vog' has become a serious problem in Hawaii not only causing polluted skies but health issues as well.  So much for paradise.

I'm beginning to think there is no such place as paradise, some places have smog, some places have fog and now Hawaii has 'vog'.  I guess no matter where we live on this gigantic blue marble problems arise everywhere and maybe we need to work on the ones in our own little corner of it. It's time we had better do something...it's almost too late.

TP

Yesterday morning I had the opportunity to change out a toilet paper roll.  Okay, there's nothing unusual about that, I've been doing that my entire adult life.  In every family (generally speaking) there is one person to whom falls the responsibility of keeping each toilet paper dispenser operational.  We wish others would share...but, we know they won't.

Since I know this is something Frankie will never, never, ever do, and CC and Zorro can't I continue to do this tiresome job.  I can do it blindfolded.  However, yesterday I had nothing in particular on my mind as I did this chore and I actually examined the roll of paper.  As usual it was two ply, but upon close inspection I discovered it was as thin as one ply used to be.  I took a good look at the individual squares, dang they were tiny.

I removed the metal roller from the dispenser and shoved the new roll of paper on it and returned the whole shebang to its proper place.  WAIT A MINUTE!  There was almost an inch of metal extending beyond the toilet paper roll.  How come I never noticed this before?  Those dispensers were made to hold a much wider roll of paper...and I remember when it did.

Well, that's just wrong.  Once more I'm getting gypped.  It's like when I noticed I was getting a mere 15 ounces of margarine instead of 16, or being able to buy only four pounds of sugar for the same price I used to get five.  Thing is, manufactures and suppliers have been sneaky about the changes and we don't notice until after the damage has been done.  I confess I have no idea how long I'd been buying 15 ounce margarine containers, and four pound bags of sugar until I went back to reading labels.  I was shocked.

But, toilet paper! Oh I was aware even the most expensive kinds aren't nearly as soft as they used to be, but how sneaky they were to gradually, ever so gradually decrease not only the length of each square but the width as well.  Are we paying any less for this product?  No.  Are we paying more? You bet your lifesavors.  I normally buy the house brands of this product because they are cheaper than name brands, unless one of the name brands happens to be on 'special' making me feel giddy that I'm getting away with something illegal.  They can afford to put it on 'special' it's smaller, as cheaply made as the house brand and certainly does not last any longer.  I'm simply getting gypped...again.

I wish now I had not paid so much attention to replacing my roll of toilet paper.  I spent the morning stewing and fretting.  I even began to wonder if Sears still puts out a catalog, in olden day it supposedly made excellent TP for the outhouse.  Better yet maybe I'll stop recycling my catalogs and simply stack them up next to the toilet in my bath room.  Hmmm, I wonder how Frankie will take to that?

Anyway, who knows what will gyp me (and you) next.  I'm already noticing bleach does not remove stains the way it used to.  Cookies are smaller, while packaging remains the same size so I'm discovering broken ones when I open it. Darn cookies have room to roam around.  Potato chip and snack packages are loaded with air, so when you peek inside the first chip is halfway down into the bag. It's like looking into a cave or a well.  I think the air is supposed to protect the snack from 'breakage'... yeah, right...take a good look at your chips, people.  Sigh, I could go on and on but I suspect I've already spoiled your day, I know I've spoiled mine.

Dang you toilet paper manufacturers!  If I didn't need you so badly I'd, I'd, I'd....

Remember, do you remember?

Last night as I was dozing off an old time song popped into my head.  I've no idea why that happens with such frequency.  Sometimes it prevents sleep, but last night I thought if I remember the song in the morning I would write about it.  Even going so far as to break the rule and use the computer before exercising.  (Don't tell on me, please.)

Anyway, although I do remember the song, I also got to remembering the wonderful movies that had these kinds of songs in them.  Oh, do you remember those wonderful films.  They had Gene Kelly, Fred Astaire, Ann Miller and Esther Williams in them.  While Gene, Fred and Ann danced and swirled around gigantic sets, Esther Williams swirled around a gigantic swimming pool.  Music filled the theater as we were swept away with the magic.  Gene and Fred could tap dance half the way up a wall, then flip over and land on their feet without skipping a beat.  And, I heard when Gene Kelly did that famous "Dancing in the Rain" scene he was in reality a very ill man, such was the caliber of men in those good old days.  Sigh, too bad they don't make movies like those any more.

But, getting back to the song I remembered last night.  It's called "Put on a Happy Face".  That in itself is charming enough don't you think?

The story behind the song is quite lengthy and can be found on Wikipedia so I won't repeat all of it here but can I tell you it appeared in the Broadway play Bye-Bye Birdie, and a few years later in a Hollywood musical with the same name.  The lyrics were written by Lee Adams, the music by Charles Strouse and sung by...go ahead...guess?????

None other than a very young new-comer Dick Van Dyke.  No kidding, Dick Van Dyke.

Who'd a thunk?

Anyway, this song is so up lifting it made me put on my happy face and I hope my posting it here will put a happy face on you, too.

Bye Bye Birdie - Put On a Happy Face 

Gray skies are gonna clear up

Put on a happy face

Brush off the clouds and cheer up

Put on a happy face

Take off that gloomy mask of tragedy

It's not your style

You'll look so good that you'll be glad

You decided to smile

Pick out a pleasant outlook

Stick out that noble chin

Wipe off that full of doubt look

Slap on a happy grin

And spread sunshine all over the place

Just put on a happy face

Put on a happy face

Put on a happy face

And if you're feeling cross and bickerish

Don't sit and whine

Think of banana splits and licorice

And you'll feel fine

I knew a girl so gloomy

She'd never laugh or sing

She wouldn't listen to me

Now she's a mean old thing

So spread sunshine all over the place

And put on a happy face

I don't particularly like licorice, but do love banana splits, so how can I not have on a happy face? Plus, I don't particularly want to be known as a gloomy girl and turn out to be a mean old thing........ 

..........so, (I'm gonna') spread sunshine all over the place

and put on a happy face.

Here's the thing.

Yesterday my blog was about inserting new things into my exercise program.  I did that, as a result I realized this morning I have not been working all my muscles in the way they could be used. Ow! On the up side I've discovered I'm able to do things I thought I would never (again) be able to do in my lifetime.

Remember when I said my friend stood in a ballet position, heels together, toes pointed outward then lifting her heels off the floor.  Well, guess what?  This morning I was using the arm of my sofa for support while doing this and it struck me that I could do this without the sofa support and let go.  To my amazement, I was able to do this exercise standing alone, arms extended outward and lift myself...my whole body up onto my toes.  Then held this position without losing my balance.
Wow!

I'm starting to think the aging of my body is not just physical, but  mental.  I'd come to believe all the things people do tell you about getting old and that is exactly what makes a person old.  If you think you can't do something, you won't.  We become content with being sedentary. At least I know I did. Now that makes me so angry at myself I could spit tacks.  What the heck was wrong with me, if everybody jumped of a cliff would I jump, too?  I don't think so.  As a result I'm taking the opportunity to change my mental attitude about getting old by being physical.

Don't get me wrong.  I'm addicted to being sedentary, and just like being addicted to anything, it's a day to day process controlling it.  I could backslide at any moment.  I remember those afternoons, watching TV, taking a 40 winks nap, those were the good old days.  Some days I miss them.  What keeps me going is trying new, more difficult physical endeavors.  For instance, I'm sure you remember my trying to hoist myself up and off my sofa day before yesterday afternoon and that it didn't go well.  I thought for sure it would take at the very least weeks, at the most months to accomplish this feat.  But, not to be dissuaded I attempted the same thing yesterday afternoon.  At first I couldn't get my leg muscles to do what they were supposed to.  I pictured in my mind what I wanted them to do and I thought very, very hard.

Concentrate.

Concentrate.

Concentrate.

I willed my body to stand...on it's own...without my hands having any part in lifting my body off the sofa.

And, I did.  Oh, it wasn't pretty by any means, and Emily Post would shuddered at how unlady like it was.  But, I was so proud of myself I could have cried.  For the rest of the afternoon each time I stood I made my legs, and legs alone to get me to a standing position.  Color me amazed!!!

I guess what I'm trying to write is we encumber ourselves by thinking we can't accomplish things; by the same token can't we become unencumbered by thinking that we can.  Last September I never would have thought I'd be where I am today getting myself up off my sofa unencumbered.  I've no idea what's coming next but I'm sure it will surprise me.

Disclaimer:  Please remember I started my program with the encouragement and support of my physician, check with yours I'm sure he/she can provide a program suited to your current physical condition.  If he/she already has provided one for you but you prefer being sedentary, remember I used to be like that, too.  But also remember, I'm starting to think the aging of my body is not just physical, but mental.

Then I got up off my sofa and that changed everything.

Up-down, one-two

A friend and I were discussing our exercise programs, and kind of comparing notes. She goes to an actual gym and participates in several different programs.  I like talking about exercise, it keeps my incentive up.  She told me one of her programs had some exercises from ballet and I was quite intrigued.

We used the side of a car as a ballet 'bar' as she showed me some of  the moves. I notice one was similar to what I do, except, where I stand flat footed, feet together, her program has her heels together, toes pointed outward, and she has to lift her heels off the floor.  Wow...I tried that then and there, I could feel myself using different leg muscles in order to do this.  Holy mackerel.

I told her I'm still having trouble with balance, and showed her the exercises I do to improve mine. She said she did one similar, but instead of putting her arms down to her sides, she was instructed to place her hands together in front of her chest.  I think she called it something like 'heart position'. I've decided I'm going to do that.

Then, still talking about balance she mentioned her instructor said one of the most important things we should do is never give up on being able to stand up with out the aid of clinging to something for support.  I get that!  I always prided myself I was able to get up, even off the floor, without having to push or pull myself up.  However, over the years I've discovered I can no longer do that.  I've been very embarrassed about having to crawl across the floor on hand and knees to a sofa or chair. It's even more embarrassing when I'm working outside on my hands and knees and have to scour the neighborhood making sure no one is watching as I get myself upright once more. As a result I decided come heck or high water I am going to get myself back into shape to be able to do stand up again...by myself...on my own.

I started yesterday.

Baaaaaaaa, haaaaaaaaa, haaaaaaaaa, haaaaaaaaaaa, Whew, that felt good.

Wish you could have been here, I had myself in such a fit of giggles.

I started by skooching myself to the edge of the sofa, feet firmly planted on the floor. I attempted to stand. I could not get my flabby butt off the cushion.  (Snicker.)  I tried again, this time I managed to get my butt off the sofa, but my arms flailed about like a fish freshly landing on a beach for the very first and probably last time. (Snicker, snicker.)  Plop, down I went onto the sofa.

I think maybe if I grunt while trying to pull myself into a standing position it might help. I do so, as quietly as possible.  Did you know you can't grunt in silence 'cause it makes you...well, you know...fart.  (Now I'm far beyond snickering.)

I try one more time, by now my legs feel like rubber.  I've awakened Zorro...CC has fled in fright, I think because of my flailing arms and Frankie is doubled over in a fit of laughter.  It's hard to try to better yourself when those you love get such a kick out of it.

I finally give up, for the moment.

However, now I'm bound and determined I'm going to conquer being able to get myself into a standing position...on my own...without the aid of anything but my own muscle power.  I don't care how long it takes!  I am going to become the little train that could!

At least I think I can, I think I can, I think I can.

Happy hour

As I posted yesterday I had a date to go to happy hour with friends, and since I had given Frankie such a hard time about my coffee creamer system I invited her to go along with us.

At first she declined, but I pulled the please, please, please, pullllleeeeeaaaase, 'be a two year old kid whine until you say yes' trick.  It worked.

Around 3:30 my friend showed up, and the three of us took off to meet our fourth companion.  My friend lives within walking distance of many great restaurants, and she suggested we walk.  Boy, I shoot Frankie a look...she's not used to walking, is she going to make a fuss.  I glance to my left and I can see the intersection with the light and think, it's not all that far, we should be able to make it no problem.  After all Frankie and I have been exercising for quite a while, and we are in better shape than we've been in a long, long time, walking several blocks should not present a problem.

Our fourth companion shows up and we begin our trek.  It's a beautiful day, there is a scent of spring blossoms on the air and we leisurely stroll along the street.  Our conversation is as light and breezy as the day, we talk about all sorts of things which is easy to do since we've not been together for quite a long time.

I glance at Frankie, she's not talking much but I can tell she's enjoying herself and listening to our conversation because she smiles and laughs at the appropriate times. Lake Oswego is a dog friendly city so as we stroll we stop and pet all kinds and sizes of them.  We're having a wonderful time. Our destination comes into view. Surprisingly...none of us is winded...even though we talked and laughed the whole way.

We seat ourselves, order drinks and eventually food. Now, you'd think by now we'd have run out of things to talk about, but that was not the case.  Frankie talked about the move we hope to make later this year and I was pleased to know she's as excited, yet just a bit as scared as I at the prospect of making such a gigantic change in our lives.

Much too soon it's time to start our trek back to where it began.  This time it is slightly up hill. Frankie and I share a secret glance...down hill was one thing, going up was quite another.  We needn't have worried the walk was easy-peasy.

Once home I asked Frankie if she had a good time.  She sank into a chair and kicked off her cowboy boots as a grin of contentment spread across her face.  I grinned back, there was no need for words. I'm glad she agreed to come along because I knew she had forgiven me for my morning tirade, and this morning she made both of us a cup of hazelnut flavored coffee.

All is right in our world.

Grrrrr, darn Frankie.

Me:  "FRANKIE!" Yes, I'm yelling.  Sometimes I could spit tacks.

Frankie saunters into the kitchen, steaming mug of coffee in hand.  See, I knew she was guilty.  She looks so innocent...so.....ahhhh!!!!

Frankie:  (Taking a bite of peanut butter covered bagel.)  "What's got your bun wound so tight?"

She actually snickered.  Grrrr.

Me:  "Did we not have a long talk about the flavored coffee creamers?  Did we not set up a system to rotate the creamers so they all run out at the same time?"

Frankie screws up her face in fake concentration, wrinkling her brow, shifting her mouth from side to side, scratching her nose.  "I guess I recollect something like that."

Me:  "Is that all you have to say for yourself?  You know you deliberately messed up the order."

Frankie moves way to far into my personal space and challenges me.  "How do you know I messed up the order, maybe you did."

I drag her to the cupboard and remind her about the system.  There are four jars of flavored creamers and one jar of just plain sugar...the sugar is the jar that guides us through the system.  Every day, the creamer we are to use that day sits in front of the sugar, every day as we use that creamer, a new creamer moves in front of the sugar container and a round robin system begins.  It works well, each creamer container empties within days of each other.

Frankie hates this system.

Oh, I know, it is kind of silly, but I guess I kind of have a bit of OCD because I like the order of my creamer system...I know each day I will enjoy a different flavoring in my coffee, and I also know I will be opening new containers all at once, not one every two weeks or so.  Frankie, on the other hand does not care a twit.  Dang her.

So, Frankie says, "Just how do you know I used a creamer out of order, anyway?"
Me:  (Sighing.) "Yesterday, I used the pumpkin spice, which means I should not have found it in front of the sugar container this morning."
Frankie:  "I didn't want pumpkin spice yesterday, but I did this morning, so I moved back in front of the sugar for this morning.
Me:  "But, I should be having hazelnut this morning...I want hazelnut!"

Frankie in her usual, I don't give a crap attitude grabs my cheeks squeezes just a tad hard, while being waaaaay to close in my private space when she says: "I've got one word for you getoverit!'

Wow!!!  This is hard to process.  I retreat, intending to return and do battle...she's not getting away with this.  No way!!!!

I take my pumpkin spice flavored coffee and go to my office contemplating my revenge. All of a sudden I recall a conversation I had yesterday when I boastfully and proudly exclaimed I was pleased I've become mature and forgiving, able to overlook the small stuff.   Yet here I was making an awful fuss over of all things...coffee creamers.  Oh, I don't know I will ever be able to give up on my rotation system because I like it, but I have learned a lesson this morning.  In the scheme of things does it really matter if Frankie occasionally, or even frequently wants a different flavor in her coffee than I do?  Nope, I don't think so.

This was definitely 'sweating a small stuff' thing and I definitely should be the bigger person and overlook it.

So since I'm going with friends to happy hour this afternoon, as a way of making up and saying I'm sorry, I think I'll ask Frankie to come along.

Scoo, bee, doo, be, dooo, bee, dooo.

I'm stuck in nostalgia this morning.

I was fortunate to grow up in an era where beautiful songs were written, lyrics told a story, generally love stories.  They were slow, and I swayed back and forth as I hummed them in my head.  Song writers were magicians, their words and music weaved a spell, we walked through a room of smoke and mirrors until we became the song.

This morning a particular song has been weaving in and out of the smoke filled recesses of my brain. At this moment I don't even recall its name, but here are the words I recall so far..."just a passing glance, just a brief romance,...might have ended.....da, da, da.

Dang it!

It was probably written for a Broadway play, maybe back in the '30's or 40's.  Maybe by Gershwin, or maybe Berlin.  I know I'm not going to be able to move on to something else today until I find this song on the Net, read it, find out who wrote it and sing it either in my head or out loud (which won't be pretty...that's for sure).

I've always appreciated the songs from the '30's, 40's and even several from the '50's...then something happened, we started listening to songs about blueberry hills, hound dogs and heartbreak hotels.  Oh, they were clever, and we were still able to memorize the words and sing along, it was still okay.  But, over the decades since I have to confess I find songs written today for the most part are repetitious and not really even sung...but shouted...very, very loudly.  Sigh, I don't even turn on my radio to listen to music, but play old tapes and CD's.  I know, I know I'm old...and nostalgic.

Dang it!

I'm good with letting the 'young folk' have their music, I'm thankful I don't have to listen to it, and who knows, maybe somebody in their late teens and early twenties today in another five or so decades will be sitting at some kind of newfangled technology saying to themselves...'what was the name of that song...Scoo, bee, doo, be, dooo, bee, dooo?  I bet ya' fifty cents it didn't tell a beautiful story, like the one below.

Nat King Cole – Fascination Lyrics

It was fascination

I know

And it might have ended

Right then, at the start

Just a passing glance

Just a brief romance

And I might have gone

On my way

Empty hearted

It was fascination

I know

Seeing you alone

With the moonlight above

Then I touch your hand

And next moment

I kiss you

Fascination turned to love

It was fascination

I know

Seeing you alone

With the moonlight above

Then I touch your hand

And next moment

I kiss you

Fascination turned - to - love

Songwriters: OAKEY, PHILIP/CALLIS, JO /

Fascination lyrics © EMI Music Publishing, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, 

Peerrmusic Publishing, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., Universal Music Publishing Group

Oh, how I wish something like that had happened to me.  A balcony, crickets singing, slight summer breeze, gardenias in the air...a silhouette standing in the open French doors...a gentle tap on my bare shoulder..."then he touched my hand and next moment he kissed me, fascination turned to love."

Sigh! 

This blog is...

...about the Bible, so, if this subject offends you, this is the place to stop reading.  That's your right and I respect that.

Over the years, and on my own I've studied the Bible a lot.  I've read it cover to cover twice.  Both times I learned many things but I always felt something was missing.  So, I mentioned that to my Bible Study mentor, saying "I know what happens in the Bible, but I don't really know the 'people' in the Bible, I wish I could learn about the people."

To my absolute delight the next week she showed up with one of their publications called "Imitate Their Faith".  And, over the year we learned about the Bible figures Abel, Noah, Abram, Ruth, Hannah, Samuel, Abigail, Elijah, Jonah (my favorite), Esther, Mary and Joseph (Jesus earthly mother and father), Martha an finally Peter (my second favorite). Oh, I can't wait to meet them in paradise...the questions I want to ask.

Sadly, last week we finished the book, we have the conclusion to go which we are going to try to stretch out to at least two or maybe three weeks.  Then we are hoping we might be privy to a miracle and a new book comes out with additional personalities in the Bible.  I hope, I hope.

I can't tell you just how much I've learned from these historical people, and how much I want to spent the rest of my life imitating their faith.  For instance I learned from Peter when he asked Jesus how many times he was required to forgive someone who sinned against him...the law of at the day said "only three", Peter wanting to sound generous asked Jesus, "Up to seven?"  Imagine his surprise when his Lord replied, "Not up to seven, but up to seventy-seven times."  See how we've strayed from what is expected of us?  We can barely admit we've made a mistake much less forgive even once.

Oh, I'm the most guilty of all.  How long did I hold a grudge against Bird Lady?  And, who was I really hurting by doing so?  Certainly not her. And, surprisingly once I let go of the grudge and forgave her the weight was lifted from my heart and life was good again.

So, you see, I have learned a great deal from all the people in the Bible, they were human, they had frailties, some were reluctant to do the job God set forth for them to do. Some had to endure hardship, some acted totally out of love for their fellow man. I want to spend the rest of my life becoming a better Christian and imitate the faith of my Bible brothers and sisters...I don't think the road will be easy, I don't think it's supposed to..I don't think I want it to...I think I will learn to be a better person by making some mistakes along the way.

Ooops

Sometimes things happen totally out of anybody's control.  All you can do is see the humor in it, and move on.  My next door neighbor's daughter is staying with them for a while.  She has two dogs. Their yard is very small, so I said they could use my back yard for a little more space for them to roam.  So far it's been working pretty well.  Sometimes they give Zorro a fright when I put him out not realizing they are out as well, and they come bounding over to my little garden fence to say hello. (I put the fence there to keep Zorro from making unexpected visits to her kitchen to munch her kitty's kibble.) Though the dogs are both friendly, they are quite a bit larger than my pooch, and mine being such a chicken around other dogs, high-tails it to my sliding door.

Anyway, as I say this routine has been working well, when they want to use my back yard they politely open and close my little garden gate each and every time.

Ooops, night before last something went a-miss. I have a little garden of shrubs running along the wall of my morning room and while my neighbor's daughter's dogs were out for their final 'business run', one of them saw some creature (probably a mole) tunneling in the garden.  Now, no dog in its right mind could overlook a temptation like that, and he worked, (dug) mightily to catch the creature. In the meantime, dirt and ground cover went helter-skelter.  Oh, that dog had a high old time!

Yesterday morning when I opened my drapes I noticed my neighbor had made alterations to her deck gate making it impossible for anybody or thing to get on or off the deck.  I was very curious.  It happened I saw her as she was getting ready to leave for work and inquired if there was a problem of some sort, as it was strange her deck gate was closed...it never is.

She proceeded to tell me about the 'dig', and said she couldn't really talk but that she had written me an e-mail to explain.  Overcome with curiosity I turned on my computer and read her note.  Oh my, she was so apologetic, and embarrassed that her dog had done damage to my garden.

Now I was even more curious and made a beeline to check out the garden. Oh...my...goodness. I started to laugh...her dog had had one heck of a good time digging.  He followed the creature's trail all along the outer edge of the garden for quite a distance.  It was a very neat dig...there weren't piles, the dirt was evenly distributed along the dig.  Seriously, there was no way I could have been angry or upset about what the dog had done, his work was as professional as though a construction worker had dug a trench. Matter of fact considering how hard he had worked at digging I wish he would have caught whatever it was, he should have enjoyed the fruits of his labor.

Also, on the up side of this ooops, that soil sure got a good aeration, since I never think of taking a hoe and loosening the soil in any of my gardens, ever.

So it was sometime yesterday afternoon my neighbor placed the dirt back where it belongs.  She did a darn good job, too.  I might lose a little of the ground cover, but it was overgrowing the garden anyway, so I don't much care about the loss.

I guess since I'm older things like a dog's dig, or a stupid, frail bamboo fence attached to my white vinyl one with 'floral wire' don't bother me a bit.  Heck, "...a trouble's a ton, or a trouble's an ounce, or a trouble is what you make it"...and a bit of dirt flung hither and yon by an exuberant pup, for me is not a trouble at all.