eat up...

 Such an assortment.  My west coast brother informed me that today is, besides being the first day of summer, American Eagle Day, Cuckoo Warning Day, National Ice Cream Soda Day, National Plain Yogurt Day and, last but not least, Kouign Amann Day.  So first, Happy Summer Solstice, although I admit I'm not excited to think about the days getting shorter.  As for American eagles, I've seen some in trees and flying.  I love to see any kind of hawk soaring with the thermals. As for cuckoo warnings, we have a lovely little cuckoo clock from Germany that needs to be wound daily but does give us warnings, every hour and half hour.  Ice cream sodas are a summertime treat that I have enjoyed since my childhood when we could order them at the counter in the drug store.  I don't think we need to discuss plain yogurt.  I prefer mine with fruit.  However, when it comes to Kouign Amann, I must admit I have never experienced it.  I did look it up though, and it sounds delicious.  It is a round crusty cake, made with yeast-raised dough folded with layers of butter and sugar.  Similar to a croissant.  I have never, ever heard of this treat but Google offers many variations on the basic recipe.  I have no plans to bake this delectable sounding concoction but if anyone knows where it can be purchased in this area, please let me know.  I will ask my daughter-in-law, the French teacher, how to pronounce it.  

hold your breath...

 Today, for the first time ever, I had an MRI (Magnetic Resonance Imaging) scan.  It's a process that uses a large magnet and radio waves to take images of all of the organs and bones, etc. in your body.  The whole process was an adventure.  First a nice lady named Brenda lead me down a long corridor, onto an elevator, down to the lowest level of the building, then along another long corridor, to a dressing room where I removed my clothes and put on scrubs (saggy and loose but quite comfy). This was to make sure there was nothing metal on my body that could be burned into my skin by the procedure. I had left my wedding ring at home. Evidently my replacement hip was not a problem, which is good because removing it was not in the plan.  Then Brenda led me into 'the room' where a large cube with a bed sticking out of a tube cut into it waited. They had me stretch out on a hard metal bed which actually contained one of the cameras, positioned on my back, with my arms up over my head.  Then they settled a cage over my ribs and spread a warm blanket over me.  The blanket was a nice touch.  They told me it would be noisy in the tube and popped plugs in my ears, put some padding against my arms, told me to keep my eyes shut and not to move, and off we went into the world's slowest amusement park ride.  The noise was loud but rather fascinating, like creatures from outer space communicating in loud blasts and quieter repetitive beeps and bleeps.  I couldn't understand their language but they certainly seemed excited about something.  I could imagine them saying something like "Woah, look at that kidney."  After what seemed like an hour but was probably only about ten or fifteen minutes, a soft ethereal voice told me to hold my breath four times, twice for 20 second and twice for 15 seconds.  Finally, they slowly backed me out of the tube and it was all over.  After I was dressed Brenda took me back to the elevator and up to the waiting room where my spouse was waiting to whisk me off to Divine Encounter for brunch.  My reward for surviving the alien encounter.

stay calm...

 Today, according to the one who knows such things, is International Picnic Day and also International Panic Day.  I don't know if the two are intended to go together but it got me wondering what things could cause panic at a picnic.  Here's what I've come up with: a bear if you're picnicking in the woods. ants of course, an alligator if you're picnicking almost anywhere in Florida, low flying birds, sunstroke, mosquitoes, sand if you're at the beach, potato salad left out too long, skunks and many other unwanted animals.  There are also dogs lost when they run off to chase a squirrel, sudden rain storms, lightning and thunder, being beaned by a Frisby, injuring yourself (or your partner) in a three legged race, and the list goes on and on.  The more I think about this, the more I realize that picnics are much too risky.  So my advice is go to a restaurant or just stay home.

Meow...

 Today is "Take Your Cat to Work Day."  As you might have guessed, this information came from my west coast brother who quickly assured me that his cat, Ace, did not approve of this idea at all.  That text exchange left me wondering why anyone would think taking their cat to work would be a great idea, unless, of course, you were a veterinarian or had a really serious rodent infestation, and then only if the cat was a good mouser.  Now don't get me wrong.  I have had several cats in my life and I loved them all, but not one of them ever expressed an interest in going somewhere in a car.  Dogs yes, they're ready to go anytime, anywhere. Well, maybe not to the Vet.  but if you're clever you don't tell them where they're going.  Cats, as I was saying, have a strong disinclination to go anywhere in a moving vehicle.  I tried to take the family cat, Hercules (my father named our pets when I was little) for a ride in my doll buggy.  He did not cooperate.  On the other hand, cats are very happy to walk around on top of cars.  I used to let mine play in our attached garage from time to time.  We lived in the country and it really did keep field mice from getting into the house.  But there were many mornings, when I got into my car to drive to work, that I was treated to a pattern of paw prints across my windshield.  Paw prints can go along to work, or the nearest carwash, but never cats.  

Another day to celebrate....

 Today, according to my west coast brother, is not only Father's Day, but also Family Awareness Day and Husband Caregiver Day.  No matter which of these days you choose to celebrate, my Wonder Spouse qualifies.  When we married, our families doubled so we are very aware of the new blended family.  Since I came home from ten days in the hospital he has certainly been my caregiver.  But we celebrated today in the traditional way.  I gave him a loving Father's Day card with a gift card to Barnes & Nobel.  He loves books about history.  He grilled bacon wrapped pork chops for supper (a gift from his son and family via Omaha Steaks).  Then we played a game of Dominoes, his choice.  And now, as in the old time movies, we will draw the curtain on the rest of the day.  Good night.

from the west...

 My west coast brother has informed me that today is Wind and Lightning Day.  I don't know about you but I am not overly fond of lightning.  Although it can be very dramatic.  I do, however, like wind very much.  When I was a youngster we lived in the country, with fields stretching off to the west of our house.  I remember clearly standing on the back porch, facing west, when a storm was coming, and letting the wind blow against me with such force that I felt I could almost fly.  Years later, when I lived in a tenth floor apartment with a north facing balcony, I was able to replicate the experience.  The wind was wonderfully strong sometimes.  Of course it was often followed by thunder and lightning, at which time I would wisely move inside.  The next time you have a chance, stand outside and let the wind caress you.  I promise you, you'll love the experience. 

a family story...

 My west coast brother informed me that, in addition to being Flag Day, today is also Family History Day.  So, in honor of the occasion, I will share a story that my father told me about his childhood.  The year was 1919 and little Freddie was three years old.  Every Saturday morning he would board the train with his mother to travel about 12 miles from their small town to the next one.  He was terrified of the big noisy engine and his mother had to keep him in the station until the train was stopped.  They would board the train, ride the 12 miles, and when they got off, be met by his grandpa in the surrey (not sure if it had a fringe on top or not).  Grandpa would drive them to the farm where my dad's mother would spent the day helping her mother with the house cleaning.  On Sunday, my dad's father would drive over in their Model T to pick them up and bring them home.  I've always been fascinated by the fact that, in one weekend, my father traveled by train, buggy and car.  

PS: Nine years later, (yes, hew was only 12) Freddie drove the family to Detroit (a distance of about 160 miles).  That's how he learned to drive.  

search for it...

 I'm sure most of you are aware of this, but you can search for anything on line through Google or a similar search engine.  Today I realized how very much personal information is out there.  My spouse and I were sorting through old pictures, to create a kind of historic gallery in our guest bedroom.  Between us, we have wedding pictures of our grandparents, parents, ourselves of course, and various other family members.  I decided that I would like to identify the people in the photos I have.  I really doubt that my son or daughter would instantly recognize pictures of my grandparents, for example.  As I was filling out stickers to put on the back of each frame, I realized that I did not remember (if I had ever known) my paternal grandmother's first name.  I had heard stories of her, that she was six years older than my grandfather and had been his family's housekeeper before they were married, but I never knew her personally.  Both of my grandmothers died before I was born.  Since I don't have any older relatives still living, I asked my west coast brother if he knew.  He suggested I check my baby book for a family tree - no luck.  I did find some very nice report cards but not the name I was looking for.  In desperation I Googled My father's     obituary.  He died in 2006 so I wasn't sure if it would still be on line, or ever had been.  But there it was, with a very nice amount of detail, but no parents' names.  Since he was 89 when he died they probably didn't find it necessary to say that his parents had predeceased him.  So, no luck there.  I decided to try his older sister who had died in 2002.  There I got lucky.  My grandmother's name was printed out in it's entirety.  It was Anna Kathrina Maria.  Isn't that beautiful?

An Ode to Cookies...

                                                 Cookies are delectable,

                                 Cookies are delightful.

                                 Cookies can make any day

                                 Considerably less frightful.

Of course I'm talking about the edible kind of cookies, not the annoying kind that show up on my phone and laptop.  I was inspired to write about cookies this evening by my west coast brother's observation that today is "National Peanut Butter Cookie Day."  It's also "National Jerky Day" but that's something to chew on for another time.  I think cookies are possibly the very best kind of dessert.  Think about it.  If you're entertaining and offer your guests big slices of cake they may accept or they may decline, but if you pass around a plate of cookies they'll take one or two, and when you pass the plate again they will take more.  Cupcakes are good but the frosting is often messy.  Pies are tasty, but if your entertaining 6-8 people the pie is gone in one serving.  Even if you have two pies people seldom take more than one piece.  Unless of course they take two smaller pieces to get a taste of each kind of pie, but how much easier to simply pass around a variety of cookies.  And if you're with really good friends you can dunk cookies in coffee.  You can't do that with pie or cake or cupcakes.  I rest my case.  I think it's time for my bed-time cookie now.

Doctor, doctor...

My west coast brother informed me that today is "Pizza Margherita Day," "National German Chocolate Cake Day," and also "Corn on the Cob Day."  He neglected to tell me that it's also "National Call Your Doctor Day."  Perhaps he assumed that would happen anyway if you ate enough of the pizza, cake and corn on the cob (with plenty of butter of course).  But when you think about it, this is really a day full of nutritious eating.  The pizza has lots of wonderful cheese and tomatoes, so calcium and vegetables (I know, I know, tomato is a fruit but work with me here).  Corn is obviously a vegetable and German chocolate cake contains chocolate (a basic food group) and coconut and nuts in the topping.  These are definitely good for you.  What a great diet.  Dig in.  By the way did you know that the state of Iowa is the number one corn growing state in the USA.  Although the world's only Corn Palace is in Mitchell, South Dakota.  In case you're heading that way, they have a Corn Palace Festival in August. To finish up this corn filled blog here are some guarantied corny jokes:  

Why did the frog take the bus to work?  His car got toad.

What do you call a sleeping bull?  A bulldozer.

Why do cows wear bells?  Their horns don't work.

Why did the car take a nap?  It was tired.

Ok, that's it.  Way too much corn for one blog.  Just remember to take it with a grain of salt (and lots of butter).

How many???

 So, having read yesterday's blog, you may be wondering, if that was her first speeding ticket, how many more were there?  The simple answer is none.  At least not so far.  But my 2015 Fiat 500L is not a speed machine so I think I'm safe.  That's not to say I never got pulled over.  In 1967, when I was driving from upstate New York to the city, I got pulled over.  Mind you my 1955 white Corvair did not look like a speeding sports car.  I believe the nice policeman noticed that my bottom lip was quivering (I did not cry) and just gave me a warning.  And so it went, a few warnings but no tickets.  I actually got pulled over once while driving one of the earliest Toyota mini-vans.  This car could not speed unless going downhill with a strong tail wind, which I evidently had.  I think the trooper was about to write a ticket until he spotted my two snickering teenagers and took pity on me.  One more episode comes to mind.  I was driving into Fort Wayne early one Saturday morning in my Buick Rendezvous, loaded with lots of boxes and bundles.  In my defense, I had driven this stretch of road many, many times before but the speed limit had recently been reduced.  I saw the flashing lights, obediently pulled over, and rolled down my window,  The conversation went something like this.  Note: at this point, I was much too old for a quivering lower lip to work.

"Where are you going in such a hurry mam?" 

"To church."  

"To church on a Saturday?"  

"Yes, we're having our giant garage sale, and I'm taking some things to the sale."  

"Which church is this?" 

"First Presbyterian, down town."

"What time do the doors open?"

"9:00am"

After that exchange, he let me go with a warning.  I think I saw him at the sale later in the day.

A tale of two Mustangs

 Episode 1:  "My First Parking Ticket"  It was the summer of 1966.  My roommate for my first two years of teaching and I decided to take a driving trip out west.  We borrowed my future first spouse's little green puptent, packed everything in her new bright red Mustang and headed west.  We camped in Yellowstone, saw the Grand Canyon, Carlsbad Cavern, and so much more, then stayed for a week at a dude ranch in Colorado where I rode 'Old Matt,' the slowest horse in the west. Finally we headed back to Indiana. It was my turn to drive. We were cruising along an Interstate in Illinois keeping up with traffic when my copilot said to me "I hope you're not speeding.  I think that was a police car back there."  Sure enough, as we came over a rise we saw the trap.  There was a police car with flashing lights parked along the side of the road and a busy policeman flagging down everyone who came over the rise.  As I recall, he had 27 cars lined up, including ours and was writing tickets as fast as he could.  We and all of the others who were not Illinois residents were immediately led off to court.  Our fine was $86, quite a bit of money in 1966.  We did manages to find the money between the two of us, luckily had put gas in the car a few miles back, and made it home with $2 to our names.  And that's the story of my first speeding ticket.

Episode 2 "The Only One Available"  Many years later, single again after my first husband's death a girlfriend and I decided to go to Hawaii for a week.  She had a 'time share' where we would stay so I agreed to take care of the car rental.  We met in the Honolulu airport, having flown from different cities, and proceeded to the car rental place.  It was late evening when we got there and we were told that the only car available was a blue Mustang convertible.  Aw, so sad.  We decided that it was acceptable and had a wonderful time driving around Oahu, seeing different sights every day.  Since my name was on the rental contract I did all the driving.  So much fun and no traffic tickets this time.  

a slight delay

 I must postpone writing about  my history with zippy little sports cars until tomorrow because today was a very important race of another kind.  Every year as part of German Fest here in Fort Wayne the National Weiner Dog Race is held.  I have a great interest in this because, when my children were young, we had two miniature dachshunds. They were good runners but only when chasing squirrels.  But enough about Remington and Heidi.  Two by two, today's little dachshunds (a very German dog) made their way down the track (a two lane straight run about 100 feet long) enticed by treats or toys held by one of their owners, while someone else holds the dog at the starting line until the MC shouts ready, set, go!  Some run their little legs off, ears flapping wildly while others merely saunter down the track, and others have no interest in running whatsoever.  By the end of the preliminary elimination the competitors who are left, first the final eight then the final four and last, the two top dogs, are really racing, and it's a joy to behold.  In case you're wondering if size matters, it's all about speed.  The final winner was actually one of the smallest dogs in the competition. If you haven't ever attended this event you really should.  Having a beer and brats at the food pavilion before hand probably improves the enjoyment.

I got a picture of this cute little miss after the race.

Waiting a the starting line, giving their dogs pep talks.

As you can see, there was a large crowd to cheer the wiener dogs on.

We're back...

 My husband and I just got back from a three day trip to Wisconsin for his 14 year old grandson's eight grade graduation.  We had a wonderful family visit with so much great food that I still feel happily satiated.  The ceremony itself was very well done.  There were 94 students in the class and I was impressed with the organization and presentation of the ceremony.  With all of the speeches, music performed by the band and the choir, and certificates awarded, the whole event was over in 45 minutes.  Well done everyone.  Then dinner at the country club which was elegant and delicious.  I must tell you here that my daughter-in-law is a masterful organizer and hostess. Her table settings, at home and at the country club, were a joy to behold, even before the food was served.  On a purely selfish note, one of the highlights of yesterday morning was a driving tour of downtown and suburban Milwaukee that my spouse's  son took us on. That may not seem like much of a treat until I tell you that it was a glorious warm sunny day and he drove us around in their 1966 cherry red Mustang convertible with the top down.  It was bliss.  It also brought back some memories such as the fact that I got my first ever speeding ticket while driving a 1966 red Mustang.  I will tell you that story in tomorrow's blog.

One of the beautiful old buildings in downtown Milwaukee, as seen from the Mustang.

What we were really there for.  Here's the best shot I could get of our grandson walking across the stage after receiving his certificate.  Congratulations!!!

Down memory lane...

 Or in this case, memory corner.  At 12:15pm today my husband and I attended a short organ concert at Trinity English Lutheran Church in down town Fort Wayne. This was part of German Fest.  The organist was Bob Hobby, an excellent musician.  A lovely start to German Fest.  After the concert we decided to drive out east of town to our favorite Amish bakery to buy some apple bread as a hostess gift for our daughter-in-law. We are driving to Wisconsin tomorrow to attend a grandson's eighth grade graduation.  I'm excited to be going, but won't be able to blog for a couple of nights.  My spouse decided that, instead of driving through town as we would on our usual way home and further east he would drive out toward New Haven, then north on I469 to  get to the country area NE of Fort Wayne where the bakery is located.  "Longer but faster." was his reasoning.  Sadly, this plan was foiled by a massive traffic back up on the interstate.  Happily, we could see the problem before we got on and were able to turn back and go through New Haven.  Sadly, there was road construction in New Haven which caused us to take some less used streets.  Happily, this took us past the corner of Green and Summit streets, and there, right where I remembered it, was the little building that I blogged about recently in my blog about penny candy.  Unhappily, it's not a candy store any more.  Instead it's a spa/beauty shop.  Still it was fun to see that the little building was still standing.  Sweet memories.  In case you're wondering, we did, finally make it to the bakery.  

it's a matter of taste....

 Today my spouse and I got into a long discussion about buttermilk. As you may surmise, I'm not the only one in this family who is easily entertained.  I don't remember exactly how the conversation started.  It may have had something to do with the sour milk we had to throw away before he fixed our refrigerator.  However it started, I was surprised to learn that he has never tasted buttermilk.  As far as I can tell, he doesn't plan to start now.  I assured him that it's a very good, refreshing summer drink.  Of course he started researching it on his laptop as we talked.  To make buttermilk (it's helpful if you have a cow for this part) you take very rich creamy whole milk and churn it until a big lump of butter forms.  The liquid that is left is buttermilk, hence the name.  It's basically skim milk with a bit of a tang.  As the research continued, we came upon lots of recipes using buttermilk and a tip on how to create "buttermilk" for cooking by mixing a little vinegar with milk.  I actually remembered that tip from my 4H baking days.  The mouth watering recipes included many variations on buttermilk biscuits, waffles and pancakes.  I can't wait for him to whip up some bacon cheddar buttermilk biscuits.  Yum!!  I promise to drink the left over buttermilk.   

Fudge?

 My west coast brother informed me that today is "Yell FUDGE at the Cobras in North America Day."  Sadly for me, I didn't receive his post until 12:30pm and the yelling was supposed to be done at noon.  Of course he's in a different time zone so he probably got to yell, if he wasn't still in church.  Unless you put it in the bulletin, it would be hard to get the whole congregation involved. Naturally I had to look into this.  Here's what I learned when I Googled 'yell fudge.'.  If you are in North America on June 2, go outside when it is noon, face south and yell FUDGE.  You will be doing your part to make sure that Cobras do not advance and take over North America. Any cobras that have already made it to North America will turn around and go home.  Obviously, it's too late for this year (I hate to think how many cobras may have snuck in) but mark your calendar now for noon on June 2, 2025 when we can all yell FUDGE in unison.  North America is depending on you.

Mr. Fix It...

 My Wonder Spouse is great at fixing and assembling and installing things around the house, especially things electrical like televisions and soundbars.  He is an Electrical Engineer after all.  Today he rose to the occasion once again.  For the last few weeks we've noticed that the refrigerator was not keeping food as cold as it should be.  After several adjustments to the thermostat and having two different gallons of milk go bad well before their expiration dates, he decided it was time to look into the problem more deeply and that today was the day to tackle the job.  The refrigerator is only eight years old so he assumed it was fixable. First he did his internet research, printed out everything he needed to know for trouble shooting, then went to work.  I wisely stayed out of his way.  He pulled a grill off the bottom of the refrigerator, cleaned and vacuumed it and found a copy of the same information that he had downloaded sealed in a zip lock bag behind the grill. and, now armed with two copies of the same information, got to work on the trouble shooting.  He followed the directions carefully for the nine steps involved.  As he carefully looked at every suggested trouble spot he finally discovered that the vent that allowed cold air to come into the refrigerator from the evaporator coil was blocked.  As soon as he removed the offending bag of almond flour that had gotten shoved up into that corner the problem was solved.  Hooray for my WSEE.