doing some good...

This evening my wonder spouse and I helped pack meals for Project 216, an organization that sends packaged food all over the world.   This is an annual event for First Presbyterian Church.  It was an assembly line project, with several long tables set up in our large dining hall, each with all the ingredients and equipment needed to fill bags with the dry ingredients for a very nutritious soup.  Each bag filled and sealed (slightly larger than a quart size zip lock bag) contained enough to provide, when water is added, six meals.  Altogether we packed over 25,000 meals this evening.  This was our 10th year to sponsor this project, so in those ten years we have provided 250,000 meals.  We were told that at least some of the meals we packed will be going to victims of the recent hurricanes Helene and Milton.  At first, when I heard this, I thought, "Oh, they're not going to want this soup."  Because usually it's sent to third world or war-torn countries.  But then I realized that if I had just lost everything, and had to start putting my life back together, and really wasn't sure where my next meal was coming from, a bowl of soup might seem like a real treat.  In case you're wondering, I have tasted the soup and it's very good.  Kudos to the 85 people from First Pres who turned out, and special thanks to the volunteers from The Point Church who surprised us by showing up to help.  I think there were ten of them.  With all this assistance, the whole process was finished in an hour and a half.  Our efforts were rewarded with pizza before we went to work and ice cream sandwiches when the job was done.  It's nice to feel that we accomplished something good, and a bonus that it was fun.  But now I'm exhausted, so it's off to bed.  Good night.

sew on and sew forth...

 Today is "Sewing Lovers Day."  It's also "National Grouch Day," but since I don't know any of those, I'll concentrate on the sewing.  My west coast brother thought he might qualify as a grouch, but I assured him he doesn't.  I have so many friends and relatives who love sewing, and are masters of the art, that I can't begin to list them all, but I must give a shout out to some individuals and groups. I think that anything that involves some sort of needle and yarn or thread counts as sewing.  With that in mind here's my list.  My daughter-in-law and my west coast sister-in-law create absolutely beautiful clothing.  Many of my good friends create amazing quilts.  My daughter-in-law's mother, my outlaw, (we figure we're not in-laws but our families are definitely connected so we've dubbed ourselves out-laws) has won prizes for several of her quilts.  Members of my FFF (Faith, Fiber and Fellowship) group are absolute artists in knitting, crocheting, counted cross stitch and other forms of yarn work.  I know, I know, crocheting uses a hook, not a needle, but crocheters create beautiful clothing of all sorts, so I say that qualifies as sewing.  I also think that my stitcheries count as sewing.  Not necessarily the weaving part (although that does create fabric) but the needle work involved in the finished products.  In writing all of this down, I have realized that the majority of my favorite people are sewing lovers.  They are just really nice people and I'm lucky to know so many of them.  

at that age...

 Today is FRUMP Day.  When my west coast brother shared this with me, I asked him if FRUMP is an acronym for something and he informed me that it stands for Frugal, Responsible, Unpretentious, Mature Persons Day.  My husband and I agreed that it seems to be our day for sure.  We are all of those things, except maybe mature.  Our daughter in law scolded us for goofing around at breakfast in a restaurant recently.  When I told my brother this he assured me that we are at that golden age where we can embarrass both our children and grandchildren in public.  Speaking of which, we had a delightful, delicious dinner this evening at Casa's with my grandson and his fiancee.  We did not embarrass ourselves.  No utensils were dropped on the floor, no water spilled; it was a relatively dignified evening with good food and pleasant conversation.  No one even pulled out their cell phones except once to share a picture of an adorable new baby nephew.  I was brought abruptly face to face with my age though, at one point in the conversation.  My grandson's fiancee told us that she and her mother had been antique shopping recently and I asked her what kind of antiques she likes.  She replied "Oh, I really like things from the 70s."  That's 1970s not 1870s.  I'm sorry but things from the 70s don't feel like antiques to me.  They are the stuff I've had with me since my first marriage.  My daughter and son were born in the early 70s and they're not antiques.  I can't wait until she comes to our house for the first time.  She's going to love it.

watch out!

 Today is "International Day for Disaster Risk Reduction."  My west coast brother sent me this information and informed me that he avoided disaster by not eating marinara sauce at dinner.  I somehow think the 'day' is referring to bigger disasters than that.  Although I will readily admit that some reactions to food can be pretty disastrous.  There has certainly been enough in the news about disasters lately, especially the recent hurricanes in Florida and adjoining states.  I really can't imagine what it must feel like to have everything you own washed away or destroyed.  Good friends of ours did have their home destroyed in a tornado here in Indiana last year, and it was a terrible thing to go through.  They were in the house at the time.  But the big differences between their experience and those of the Florida victims that I'm hearing about was that they were able to salvage many of their possessions, and they had excellent insurance coverage.  They are now totally recovered and living in a very nice condo.  The more I hear about what goes on in other locations, the happier I am that I live in Indiana.  I think that living here is a form of disaster risk reduction.

It's inevitable...

 On Sunday mornings, in place of a more traditional Sunday school curriculum, a church groups I'm in uses a program called Wired Word, which provides contemporary topics for discussion. I highly recommend it.  Our topic for tomorrow, which I will be leading (we take turns) deals with how we face death and presents the idea of writing our own obituary.  This topic is not intended to be morbid and is based on a recently published article by a woman who writes, and rewrites yearly, her own obituary, which, she says, gives her a chance to look at her life and see if she likes where things are going.  Since I'm leading the discussion tomorrow I decided to try my hand at writing my own obituary.  I know this sounds weird, but it actually was fun.  I wrote much more than would probably ever be published and included names of all my relatives, all the jobs I ever had, and so much more.  I even included a space for future great grandchildren (wishful thinking). It was nice to think about all this stuff.  When I told my wonder spouse that I was writing my own obituary I expected him to laugh or at least ask why on earth I would do such a thing.  Instead he asked to read it, then asked me to email a copy to him so he could store it on his computer.  I'm pleased that he wants to keep it, know that I can make changes whenever I want to, and plan to revisit it at least once a year.  Try this exercise.  I think you might really enjoy it.  By the way, in case you're wondering, I'm in great health, and don't expect to 'kick the bucket' any time soon.

all those arms...

 You're going to love this. My west coast brother has outdone himself.  Today is Kraken Day, Myths and Legends Day and Cephalopod Awareness Day.  You've probably all heard the phrase "Release the Kraken."  It evidently dates back to a horror movie made in the early 1930s.  Before we go further with the myth, here's the definition of a cephalopod.  It is any of a class of mollusks such as squids, cuttlefish and octopuses that have highly developed eyes (the better to see you with, my dear), a group of muscular, sucker bearing arms (the better to hug you with), and usually a bag of inky fluid.  The myth is that krakens are gigantic many armed sea creatures that could grab ships and pull them to the bottom of the sea.  Myths are often based on a kernel of truth, and I can imagine how this one grew.  The truth of an octopus appearing in the ocean beside your ship one day, and maybe even waving a tentacle menacingly, could easily grow, like any good fish story, to a kraken of monstrous proportions by the time the sailors got back to port.  Or maybe, just maybe, there are krakens lurking at the bottom of the sea.  Is it any wonder I prefer river cruises?  Sweet dreams everybody.   

October 10th...

 Today is 10/10 Day or Metric Day or Shift 10 Day or Powers of 10 Day.  This information, supplied by my west coast engineer brother, does not excite my very much.  I have nothing against 10.  Mathematically speaking it's definitely the easiest row in the multiplication tables. I would like to be a perfect 10 as much as the next person and wouldn't mind at all if my savings increased by powers of 10.  I'm also very happy when my pressure is a 10 in each eye when checked by my ophthalmologist.  That's as close as I've ever come to being a perfect 10, although I do wear size 10 jeans.  I'm not thrilled that I will be 80 (a multiple of 10) on my next birthday, although, as some wise person once said, it does beat the alternative,  Humm, maybe I'm more excited by 10 than I thought I was.