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.  

Really??

 My west coast brother informed me that today is "Curious Events Day."  He then went on to tell me that he had heard a report that Amelia Earhart spotted the Loch Ness monster in the Bermuda Triangle.  That would indeed have been a curious event, even if it had occurred while Amelia Earhart was still alive.  I know, I know, no one ever proved she died, she simply disappeared.  But even if she didn't die when she disappeared somewhere in the Pacific Ocean, she was born in 1897, so I feel safe in assuming that she's not still alive.  But thinking about curious events, I think it is safe to say that many of the 'special days' of which my brother has made me aware, are certainly curious.  For example there was National Find a Four Leaf Clover Day (you must be curious to search for 4-leaf clovers), National Water Balloon Day, (someone will wonder who threw that), World Beard Day, (there are contests to see who has the longest bushiest beard) and my favorite - Wiggle Your Toes Day.  I love to wiggle my toes.  My first husband often asked me why I wiggled my toes so much?  He usually observed this curious event when I was relaxing, watching TV or reading, sitting in a recliner with my feet up.  The simple answer, then and now, is because it feels good.  So if you were curious about toe wiggling, now you know.

Recess...

 Today, according to my west coast brother, is American Touch Tag Day. I did not feel compelled to run out and play touch tag today, but the idea did stir some memories.  I attended a small Lutheran school for most of my elementary school years, and one of my most vivid memories of those days is recesses and the playground equipment we were provided with.  I'm sure it was similar to public school playgrounds of the time, but looking back on it, it's lucky we didn't kill each other.  We did some running games like touch tag and Red Rover, but much of our time was unsupervised play on the equipment.  I remember most clearly swinging on the swings, with hard flat seats suspended by chains.  We loved to swing as high as possible and try to go over the bar.  I never quite made that but a couple of my friends did.  We also liked to swing double.  One of us would stand on the swing, feet apart, while the second person sat.  The sitter would push with her feet while the stander would pump.  We could go high and fast that way.  We also had a teeter totter (or see saw if you prefer).  This was great fun unless you were up when your partner decided to hop off, allowing you to crash to the ground.  We had a wonderful fast metal slide with a hump in the middle, which gave one the feeling of flying for a moment.  And finally there was the maypole.  Not the beribboned, flower festooned May Pole that children dance around at festivals.  This maypole had five or six chains hanging down from a rotating top piece.  At the end of each chain was a rectangular heavy metal handle with sharp corners.  Picture a letter H with a bar across the top and bottom.  If you ran fast enough around the maypole, hanging on to one of the handles, you could swing out and up, leaving the ground for long laps around the maypole.  It was better if several children were on it at once.  You could go faster and higher.  The only drawback was if one of the children let go suddenly, the handle they had been holding could swing forward and smack another child in the head.   It's a wonder we survived.  

Here's a weaving/stitchery project I finished recently called, you guessed it, "Recess."