snow fun

 Eight inches later, my friend lost her bet.  She said the chowder came out pretty good.  This morning I heard text complaints from several friends who couldn't find their newspapers in the snow.  I realized that this is another advantage of living in an apartment.  My newspaper was right outside my door just like every Sunday,  Of course I do think my paper person has one of the best paper routes ever.  Once he gets to our parking lot it's all inside as he goes from floor to floor delivering his papers.  Today I was finally able to achieve a five year goal.  Soon after I moved in here, on a snowy day, I asked a young man riding in the elevator with me, what we were expected to do with the snow that might accumulate on our balconies.  With a straight face he assured me that each of us was required to build a snow man.  Today I was finally able to do that.  Actually it turned out to be more of a snow blob.  I wanted to make a cute snow person sitting in one of my balcony chairs but it kept slipping down into a semi-reclining position.  So now it has kind of a blobby shape with button eyes and striped gloves.  Ah well, maybe I'll do better next time.  

she's a doubter

A friend of mine was very excited a few years ago when she and her husband moved here from Tennessee.  She was looking forward to snow in the winters.  So far she has seen more snow when she has gone home to Tennessee to visit her mom.  In the last few years it seems like every big snow that was predicted either turned to rain or tracked south or north of us.  But now the weather forecasters are predicting 6 to 8 inches of snow tonight or 4 to 6 or 6 to 9 or 5 to 7 depending on who you're listening to.  My friend is so skeptical that she has made a bet with her husband.  If we have less than 3 inches he will pick up McDonald's biscuits for breakfast but if we have more snow she will cook shrimp and corn chowder for supper tomorrow night.  Sounds to me like she wins either way. Let it snow!

What's in a name?

 By definition a curmudgeon is a grumpy, bad tempered, mean old man or old woman.  You've got to admit it's a very descriptive word, just by the sound of it.  It contains a grrrr sound and the word mud.  When I was a little girl my friends and I used to love roller skating up and down the side walk in front of our houses.  We were probably noisy what with the steel wheels and our childish excitement but we were kids after all.  However, our unfriendly neighborhood curmudgeon (of course I didn't know the word then but he definitely was  one) would stand on his front porch yelling at us, holding his garden hose and spraying us as we skated by.  We didn't mind getting wet but we suspected it was a plot to rust our skates.  Today, I must admit, I let a little bit of my inner curmudgeon come out.  I wasn't picking on little children but I was, hopefully tactfully, scolding fellow members of my Bible study group.  Over the last many weeks I had become more and more frustrated over the amount of time wasted (my perception) in casual chat until our hour and a half sessions, originally set up with one half hour for sharing joys and concerns and an hour for the actual Bible study, had shifted to an hour or more of chat and minimal time for the class.  I made a brief, pleasant, non-accusatory statement in which I expressed my increasing frustration, ask if we could please go back to our original schedule and also be sure everyone had a chance to share during the first half hour before anyone took a second turn.  When I finished my plea there was total silence, then three of the eight people said they agreed with me.  Since no one spoke against it. our leader kept us right on schedule today.  But I did notice that the most talkative person in our group, who tends at times to drone on and on, hardly said anything.  She probably was  offended but I don't think I care.  Wow, I may be a real curmudgeon after all.

the ultimate toy

 Today is International LEGO Day.  This marvelous toy was patented in 1958 and has always been my son's favorite toy.  Although when he was five, he was quite fond of his fireman action figure.  My son has amassed quite a huge collection of Legos over the years.  I know because I was the one who packed them up whenever we moved.  Some years ago, when I was in real estate, I had the opportunity to show a buyer a house that my family had lived in a few years before.  It was interesting to see the changes, not many. As I was showing the room that had been my son's bedroom, I happened to glance down into the window well, and between the window and the screen I spied one lonely red Lego and knew, no doubt, that it was one of my son's.  I told him about it when I got home that evening, he was a teenager by then, and his immediate response was "Did you get it for me?"  

I love my library

 Today is Happy Library Shelfie Day.  I'm not sure what a Library Shelfie is but if it has anything to do with taking a picture of yourself in front of some library shelves I'm all for it.  It's got to be a lot safer than taking a selfie on the edge of the Grand Canyon.  Libraries are some of my very favorite places in the world,  In fact, two years ago on a trip to Finland we were taken on a tour of the amazing new modern library in Helsinki.  It was architecturally very interesting and one of my favorite spots on the tour, and not just because it was inside and warm.  As we were guided from area to area having the special features pointed out I found myself thinking "Huh, the ACPL has that and that and that.  So no library envy except possibly for the restrooms, sorry toilet.  If you ask for directions to the restroom they just look at you blankly.  The restrooms, one on each floor, were large open rooms with very private stalls all around the sides and a large bank of sinks in the middle.  No HIS or HERS,  just one big room.  It was all very convenient, especially for large groups like tours. No long lines.  Our local library, the Allen County Public Library, is quite wonderful in it's own way and during this time of shut down, offers on-line books and curb side pick up, but I must admit that I am very anxious for it to be really open.  Our county is in the orange now, so maybe soon.  Fingers crossed.  Maybe I should send them a selfie of me holding my empty library book bag and looking pitiful? 

a spicy memory

 My son sent me a picture this evening of what he and his family were having for supper.  I am not usually a fan of people posting pictures of food but I did enjoy this.  The picture showed a beautiful cookie sheet of nachos made the way I used to make them when my son was a teen. Made with nacho chips spread with bean dip then topped with a thin slice of jalapeno pepper, topped with cheddar cheese and popped into the oven until the cheese melts softly over the pepper and bean spread.  I sent the picture on to my daughter because why should I be the only one whose mouth was watering for something I couldn't have?  She reminded me that they should be served with chili and that really stirred the memories.  This combo was a favorite Sunday night supper for many years,  It pleases me to see this tradition being carried on.  It's nice to have at least one  family tradition.  OK, that's enough reminiscing. Now I need to go add some things to my grocery list.  

Wrap it up.

 Today is Bubble Wrap Appreciation Day.  Now I ask you, what's not to appreciate about bubble wrap?  I have used it many times to wrap Christmas gifts for shipping across the country. Always with good results.  But let's face it, the very best thing about bubble wrap is it's 'popability.'  I'm not exactly sure why, but popping those little pods full of air is very satisfying.  And the rules are easy.  You can pop those little bubbles one at a time with your fingers or walk on a sheet of bubble wrap in your stocking feet.  The noise is almost as good as the tactile sensation.  And this isn't just appreciated by adults. Children love bubble wrap too, sometimes even more than the gift it was wrapped around.  

A good car with bad press??

 The other day my west coast brother texted me to let me know he was on his way to help his daughter get her car started.  Her car is a 30 years old Jeep.  My brother and all of his family have a great fondness for Jeeps, and generally the older the better.  They are not a family who waste their money on fripperies like seat heaters and back-up cameras.  They do have seat belts, snow tires, and turn signals.  I suggested to my brother that perhaps she should consider a newer car.  He said all it needed was a new starter but admitted that she was looking at another Jeep that is only 20 years old.  When I suggested she should buy a Fiat he just laughed (emoji style).   I like my Fiat, and yes, I've heard all the jokes.  I've been told frequently that FIAT stands for 'fix it again, Tony' but I've had very good luck with mine.  Admittedly some might say that I have a long history of buying cars that don't get the best reviews.  I owned a Corvair, and yes I rolled it over.  For years I drove an underpowered VW bus, then a Toyota mini van and so on, and later a Rendezvous.  When I think about it. since that VW bus, I have always liked tall cars that are easy to get in and out of, and my little Fiat 500L is almost as tall as an SUV but shorter, end to end.  Picture a child's drawing of a car and you get the idea.  Now that I think about it the same can probably be said for a Jeep.

the great debate Other

 It's common knowledge that there are some strong opposing views in the political arena these days, but let me tell you, there's another debate that stirs passions almost as much.  Today is National Handwriting Day so at least one side has it's own day.  At least I haven't heard of National It's OK to Print Day.  Many people feel that it is essential for people to be able to write cursive.  "Otherwise how can you sign checks and other legal documents?" Actually you can print signatures or just make an X with a witness.  Others argue that it's good for mental development.  I actually think that's true.  I remember, as a third grader, writing pages and pages of all the letters of the alphabet in a workbook and also in special lined tablets with wide apart dark lines with dotted lines in between.  It certainly stirred my imagination.  I especially liked the lower case letter 'c' because after you wrote several rows of 'c's it looked like waves on an ocean.  Then I could add some details to the page like little sail boats and fish.  My teacher was not as amused by this as I thought he might be. I have one friend, in her 80s now, who spent 40 years in education,  first as a teacher and then as an elementary school principal.  She told a group of us at a meeting one day that she has never learned to write cursive, so I guess it's not essential to success.  These days, if I want to be sure someone can read a letter that I send them (yes, I do still use snail mail sometimes) I type the letter, usually in fairly large print.  But. just to show I still can, I do sign my name in cursive. 

better than yesterday

 For those of you who don't appreciate squirrels (see yesterday's post) today is Answer Your Cat's Question Day.  In my adult life I have owned six cats.  Actually I shouldn't say owned.  I have had six cats, not all at the same time, who have deigned to live with me.  Their most consistent question was "Where's my food?"  followed usually by "Where's the good food?"  Cats don't really ask many questions, they just assume their needs will be met.  Expressions of gratitude are rare.  Don't get me wrong. I loved my cats.  I always looked forward to seeing the cat du jour when I got home from a trip.  I envisioned her running to greet me and purring excitedly. Hah!  Oh, they did saunter out to see who was coming in the door, gave me a haughty look that clearly said "Well, I guess it's ok that you're back." followed a while later (never look excited) by "Where's my food?"

not in my attic...

Today, according to my west coast brother, is Squirrel Appreciation Day.  Now I can understand why some people might appreciate squirrels.  They are kind of cute as long as they are cavorting with their own kind in a woods somewhere.  But as my father, the grumpy old carpenter who had fixed lots of squirrel damage in his day, used to say "They're just rodents with fluffy tails."  Recently my son-in-law started telling me about his fight with attic squirrels and I had a 'de ja vu all over again' moment, because less than a week before, a friend told me the same story.  Different attics but the same story.  First came the noise of scurrying little feet and the nasty suspicion that something had taken up residence in the attic, then the effort to eradicate the little beasts.  Stapled mesh over the attic vents, traps and more traps, and still one little taunting critter escaped to torment their sleepless nights.  It was a long battle but in the end they both vanquished the squirrels. at least for now.  I don't think I'll mention Squirrel Appreciation Day to them.  They would probably prefer to hear that it's New England Clam Chowder Day.  

a really special day

 Today is Inauguration Day and I have been enjoying the pomp and ceremony all day.  I've made no secret of the fact that I am very pleased with the outcome of the 2020 presidential election and nothing I saw today changed my mind.  I am happy and hopeful for our country.  I am curious about one thing though.  I understand that it is traditional for the outgoing president to leave a letter for the incoming president in the oval office.  Considering how un-traditional our outgoing (outgone?) president has been, I was surprised to hear in one brief report that he did leave a letter.  When President!! Biden was asked if he would share the contents he said that he would read it in private and then decide.  Aren't you curious?  In the Harry Potter books the worst letter one can get is a Howler, a letter that screams at you in a loud scolding voice and then bursts into flames.  I doubt that the one left in the oval office is quite that dramatic but I am very curious about what it said.  I doubt it was an early Valentine.

A state snack?

 Today is Popcorn Day. but that's not all.  It may become a day of celebration in Indiana soon.  I heard on the news the other day that there is a proposal in the state legislature to make the state snack of Indiana popcorn, in honor of Orville Redenbacher I guess. The funny thing is when I heard the comment on TV, listening not too carefully, I thought they said "state sack."  To justify my misunderstanding, there was a person carrying what looked like a plastic grocery bag on the TV screen.  It might have been full of popcorn but you really couldn't tell.  I was greatly relieved when I realized that they had said snack not sack.  I really couldn't imagine why anyone would waste their time in office trying to create a state sack.  A state snack on the other hand????

please pass the duck

 Everyone knows that today is MLK Day and we respect his memory, but few people know it is also National Peking Duck Day.  I have never had Peking Duck.  Whenever I've seen it on a Chinese restaurant menu it usually says something like 'it will take 45 minutes to prepare.'  Now I am a patient person but when I'm hungry I would rather be eating than waiting, especially when there are so many good things on the menu.  I suppose I could try cooking it at home. Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha.  I did cook a goose once when I was a young homemaker.  For some unremembered reason, I decided that I should prepare a goose one Thanksgiving.  You've heard of goose grease?  I don't remember how that goose tasted but I presume it was ok.  Everyone ate it.  What I do clearly remember is the grease.  I kept draining the grease out of the roasting pan and eventually filled two large coffee cans with the stuff.  Not sure why I had saved those coffee cans but I was glad I did.  In case you're wondering (I'm sure you are) I did not keep that grease to use in other cooking projects.  Even then I wasn't that domestic.  I put those cans of grease out in the cold garage until it solidified, then pitched it.  In all the years since then I have successfully roasted many turkeys but never another goose, and no ducks either.  

Flash back

 I just watched a PBS show about Agatha Christie, the best selling ever murder mystery writer and I remembered the first time I read one of her books.  It was 1967 and the friend I rented a house with during my first year of teaching and I decided to take a driving trip out west.  We borrowed a tent and other camping gear from my then boyfriend, later husband and spent three weeks exploring the west.  We saw Yellowstone and Carlsbad and the Grand Canyon and much more.  We were driving her beautiful red mustang and we had fun.  During the long stretches of driving between sites we took turns reading to each other while the other one drove.  The book we had brought along, I'm not sure if it was hers or mine, was Agatha Christie's "The Murder of Roger Ackroyd."  We had lots of lively debates between chapters about who the murderer might be.  I remember that we weren't even close to the truth until the second to last chapter and then we were shocked.  It couldn't be!  But it was. This was the beginning of much reading aloud on many trips over the years to come with my family.  It was also on that trip that I got my first ever speeding ticket, but that's another story.  

Sharing

 You know how, when you're pregnant with your first child, women delight in telling you their stories of giving birth?  These are seldom piece of cake, the little guy just popped right out kind of stories.  Typically, your aunts, cousins, grandmothers and friends delight in regaling you with the 24, or better yet 36, hours of labor and the excruciating pain involved, not to mention the complications involved.  Well now I'm finding a similar phenomenon happening regarding the Covid vaccination.  Since I shared that I am scheduled to receive my first shot next month, I've been hearing all kinds of reaction stories.  One friend had a sore arm for three days (I can live with that) while another was sick in bed for three days with a blazing headache, nausea, chills and fever. Yuck!  One helpful friend even emailed me an article she had read listing all the possible side effects.  I am sure this is all well intentioned but I'm not finding it very reassuring.  I had assumed that I would drive myself to the shot site, get the shot, wait the proscribed 15 minutes to be sure all is ok, and then drive myself home again.  Now {'m beginning to wonder if I should have an ambulance standing by, just in case.  But, just as I had the babies any way, I will still get the shots.  

It had to be done.

 Well, now I've done it.  Earlier this evening I went on line and registered for my first Covid vaccination shot. ( ourshot.in.gov).  It wasn't too hard after I actually got to the correct site on the third try.  The registration process took just a little over 30 minutes.  A friend had told me to skip the insurance section because they will ask for that info when you arrive at the site.  So at 11:40 on February 12 I will be getting my shot.  Of course. I just realized as I checked my calendar, I will need to change a manicure appointment.  I probably should have checked my calendar first but it's set now.  I have a feeling it will be much easier to change the manicure appointment than to go back on the vaccine site and try to change anything there.  Just a guess, but you know.....

seeing differently

 I had my follow-up appointment with my eye doctor this morning and things are looking good,  The vision in my left eye is now 20/50 and there may still be some more improvement.  Considering that my vision in that eye was previously 20/250 my doctor and I are both really, really happy about this.  But here's an interesting side effect that I hadn't been expecting.  A friend who had cataract surgery recently mentioned that colors were different now, so I decide to check it out. I have spent quite a bit of time this evening looking at the TV and other objects, first with one eye and then with the other (I've told you before, I'm easily entertained) and I discovered there really is a remarkable difference.  With my new lens things look clear and whites look very bright, then with my old eye everything has a yellowish cast.  It's hard to describe but there really is a very dramatic difference.  So now I'm wondering, what if I don't like the new true colors of my clothes.  I might have to go buy a whole new wardrobe.  And the down side is?????

the deed is done.

 Well, I had my first cataract surgery today and my reward was pizza this evening.  The last word I heard as the procedure was finishing was my doctor saying 'perfect.'  Always a good sign.   I'm always intrigued by the questions they ask before the procedure.  I'm pretty sure I was asked my name at least 27 times by different staff persons followed by my date of birth.  Do they really think someone else is going to sneak in and take my place?  The question I was most concerned about though was "Which eye are we doing today?"  The doctor even put a sticky dot on the left side of my forehead.  Did they think I might change my mind half way through?  Over and over and over again I was asked which eye?  I'm happy to report they did operate on the correct one and the results seem good.  In three weeks the right eye will be the right eye.  

a recommendation

 i watched a TV show this evening that I have only watched once before but I'm developing a real interest in it.  The show is on PBS and it's called "Finding Your Roots."  This evening the people whose ancestors were identified were Norah Roberts, Nancy Pelosi and a clothing designer whose name I don't remember.  There were some interesting surprises like a great grandmother who had traveled from Ireland to the US alone when she was 12, and a great, great grandmother who, as a 19 year old widow, won a lawsuit and compensation from her husband's employer because her husband was killed in a work accident.  It was a landmark case in Ireland.  I was intrigued by the surprise the host showed that all three of the guests this evening had ancestors who had immigrated from somewhere in Europe.  I don't know why he seemed so surprised.  Every white person I know has ancestors that came here from somewhere else.  I mean, unless you're Native American what are the options?  The biggest surprise though was when the host, a black man, revealed to Norah that they are related by DNA.  His Irish grandfather was a cousin of Norah's great great somebody.  Anyway, it's a fun show to watch.

Be careful what you read.

 On Wednesday morning I'm having cataract surgery and I admit to a little anxiety, but not much.  After all it's only one eye, this time, and I can't see much out of it anyway.  That is, I wasn't feeling very anxious until I started reading through all the paperwork this evening.  I was actually ok with the form until I came to the paragraphs on possible complications. Yikes, it's quite a list.  You know those ads on TV for prescription medications?  If you listen carefully to all the possible side effects you wonder why anyone would ever risk taking Xyzqa or whatever it is.  Of course I am going to go ahead with the surgery and will sign the form.  I'm not even going to Google the definition of 'uveitis.'  

a lazy afternoon

 Traditionally Sunday afternoons are a time for relaxing and I like to honor traditions.  So this afternoon, after a really good couch church service, I stretched out on my bed with the newspaper, some computer games and a good book while Rhoda, my Roomba, happily vacuumed my bedroom. At least she seemed happy.  She buzzed right along, back and forth and round and round, doing a thorough job of cleaning under the dressers and under the bed and everywhere else.  After an hour and fifteen minutes she told me her battery was low so I put her back in her charging station.  True confession.  When I emptied her little bin I was appalled at how much yuck she had accumulated.  I know I'm not the world's greatest housekeeper but I didn't think I was that bad.  I assume the dust came from all those under bed and under dresser spaces where my regular vacuum cleaner doesn't quite reach.  That's my story and I'm sticking too it.  It will be interesting to see if there is less the next time around.  I love my Christmas toy!  Now if I could just teach it to dust shelves.

freezing

 Yesterday I had an appointment with a dermatologist.  It was my first ever baseline all over check for possible skin cancer.  Since my father, who worked outside most of his life, developed some little cancerous spots on his face when he got older I decided it wouldn't hurt to be checked out.  After an embarrassingly thorough check up all over my body it was determined that I had two little pre-cancerous spots on my forehead.  Really not worth taking my clothes off for.  The nurse practitioner whipped out his little ray gun and zapped both spots with a freezing ray.  I was told that after a day or two scaly patches would develop and gradually everything would fall off including the troublesome little bumps.  This morning, right on schedule, one spot had developed the promised scaly surface.  The other one. however, still felt just like it always had.  I was beginning to wonder if the NP had missed his shot.  However, by this evening, the second spot has become satisfyingly scaly.  I'm so glad that no one will see me except by Zoom for the next few days.  In case you're wondering why I bothered to share this less that monumental physical adventure today it was either that or celebrate National Static Electricity Day.  

Happy birthday

 1935 was a very good year.  Elvis Presley, my first heartthrob, was born on January 8, 1935.  My first husband and true love was born on February 7, 1935.  One summer,  after we dropped our children off at  Space Camp, my husband and I were heading further south to spend the week in Gulf Shores.  On the way, since we weren't in any hurry, we took a detour through Tupelo, Mississippi to see Elvis's birthplace.  It wasn't open that day but we did drive past.  I don't know what I was expecting, but it just looked so little and normal, like the houses in the small town of my childhood.  From what friends have told me, if I want to see the glitz and glamor that was Elvis in his later years I need to go to Graceland.  I'm not sure I'll ever make that trip but I did see his gold plated Cadillac at the Country Music Hall of Fame Museum in Nashville.  It's not really all gold plated, just the handles and other trim, which still makes it pretty glitzy.  I actually saw Elvis perform once, right here in Fort Wayne, Indiana in 1957.  He was young then, and handsome and alive and I was sure he was singing right to me. Sweet memories.

multitasking

 Yesterday I spent a lot of time watching TV news.  Today, I chose to ignore all that and do some other things, all at once.  Yes, I can multitask, kind of.  This afternoon I made a big pot of spaghetti.        I had some for supper, delicious, and froze five servings.  While the sauce was simmering, I downloaded some church related forms and started working on those.  Every so often I jumped up to stir the sauce.  Meanwhile Rhoda vacuumed the living room and dining room and she did a good job.  She wandered around for over an hour, stopped once so I could empty her little bin, and, when she decided she was finished (it looks good to me) she put herself to sleep in her little docking station.  Does it really count as multitasking if a machine is doing your work for you?  It works for me.  (Pun intended.)

It's not so clear

 Next week Wednesday I will be having my first cataract surgery.  I wasn't particularly concerned.  I have great confidence in my doctor and the testimony of several friends that have had cataract surgery with excellent results.  Today I became even less concerned.  My first surgery will be on my left eye and then I will have the surgery on the right eye three weeks later.  Because of the gap between the two procedures it was recommended that I have the left lens taken out of my glasses so I can still wear them to help my right eye.  So I took my second best pair of glasses in today and the technician removed the left lens and replaced it with a nonprescription lens.  I put them on and discovered that I really can't tell any difference in my left eye.  Prescription, nonprescription, my left eye just looks blurry.  So now I'm even less concerned.  I'm actually excited to think I might be able to see with my left eye.  Of course when it comes to my right eye, I might be more apprehensive since that's the one I see with.

I'm stuck...

 I like to think that my daughter's first word was mommy but I don't actually remember.  I do however remember her first phrase.  One evening, when she was supposed to be asleep. I heard her calling "Stuck, Mommy, stuck."  When I checked out the situation it turned out that her foot had slipped down between the mattress and the side of the crib and she couldn't quite pull it out.  I rescued her and she did, eventually, settle down and fall asleep.  What reminded me of this little episode was my feeling of being stuck this evening with nothing to write about.  I blame it on the weather.  Even the weatherman said during his report this evening that we're stuck with heavy cloud cover.  I had noticed that. since there really hasn't been much else to notice.  I know that the sun will shine again eventually.  It is, after all, only six months til July, but in the meantime I wouldn't mind a pretty snowfall, especially if it lands only on the grass.  Oh wait he just predicted freezing fog for morning.  Seems like the clouds are stuck too and sinking fast.  Before I start thinking of political parallels I think I'll just go to sleep.

a double day

 Today is National Trivia Day and also National Spaghetti Day so I have decided to share some personal trivia.  

Spaghetti is my favorite food but only the way I make it.

Tomato soup is my least favorite food in the world/

I like dark beer, but only two or three a year.

I eat carrots for breakfast.

I was the tallest girl in my high school.  I hated being tall then, but like it now.  

Over the years I have been pet mom to two dogs, five cats (not all at the same time) two white mice, two hamsters, and a boa constrictor.

I have lived in eight cities.

I have traveled to 22 countries.

My first car was a Corvair and yes, I did roll it over.

That's it for tonight and I'm sure that it's more than you ever wanted to know.

hearing things

 Last night I happened to be awake about 1:00am.  I was in bed but reading a good book when I realized I was hearing a really loud weird noise.  Sort of a very loud droning sound.  I knew it wasn't a train, at least not like any I usually hear.  It wasn't the downtown siren that they test at noon on the first Wednesday of every month. It wasn't the fire alarm in my building.  While I listened (it went on for several minutes) I recalled recent reports I've heard on the news about strange howling noises heard in some far away parts of the world and began to wonder if this was going to go on for hours or days.  The thought crossed my mind that it might have something to do with work on the deep tunnel.  Finally it faded away and I fell asleep.  I didn't think anything more about it until I heard a report on this evening's news.  Evidently several people reported hearing the noise which I found very reassuring.  It's good to know I wasn't imagining things.  Unfortunately no one seems to have any idea about what it was.  Perhaps by tomorrow we will have an answer or maybe it will remain a mystery.  Either is fine as long as I don't need to listen to it again. 

PS it was not my Roomba run amuck. 

Service with a smile....

 I watched a British comedy this evening called "Are You being Served?"  It takes place in a very old style department store somewhere in England and, in some ways, reminds me of Wolf & Dessauer's.  I was talking with a friend who moved here a few years ago, but long after the end of W&D's.  We were talking about the big Santa Claus on display downtown and I was describing how it used to hang on the side of W&D's and that led to a description of the store.  When I was a young teen shopping in downtown Fort Wayne was a twice a year treat.  Spring and fall my mother and I would dress up and drive to Fort Wayne from little old Woodburn to shop.  In the fall it might be school clothes and shoes, in the spring an Easter hat and maybe a new dress in the color of that year.  We were never in a position to spend much money but we did have fun.  Just riding the escalator and elevator was exciting.  I especially liked the elevators.  There was a speaker system that said things like "Fifth floor, women's lingerie.  Third floor, men's better suits."  and so on.  You get the idea.  The new elevator recently installed in my apartment building reminds me a little of those old elevators.  It doesn't give a list of who lives on each floor (probably just as well) but it does announce tmy floor number in a perky feminine voice.  I might have preferred a sexy man's voice but nobody asked me.  

Happy New Year

 Today is the very first day of a brand new year and so far it seems to be off to a good start. At least if you didn't have to drive anywhere.  I did eat sauerkraut. thereby ensuring a good year and I also added to my list of things I never need to experience. My west coast brother reminded me that, in some communities, today is also Polar Plunge Day.  Not the least bit, never have been even slightly tempted to strip down to my swim suit and jump into freezing cold water on January 1 or any other day.  Let's face it.  The only water I really enjoy jumping into is a hot shower.  I didn't see any coverage of a local Polar Plunge today so I have to assume that it's another activity that fell victim to Covid 19 restrictions.  I have to wonder how many usual participants were really very upset to learn that they couldn't take the plunge this year.  I'm guessing that at least were not that upset.