making a simple process complicated

This morning I took my brother to the local VA hospital for outperson surgery on his foot.  The surgery went well and we were out by 11am.  That part was simple. The complication came in the process of getting him to and from the hospital.  First problem, he had to be there at 6:30am and I can't drive in the dark.  To solve that problem, I drove out to his house (north of Fort Wayne) in daylight yesterday and stayed overnight. His two dogs loved having company (Bubba and I played endless games of catch) and my brother and I enjoyed hearing each others' comments on the State of the Union speech.  We do not always agree but did not come to blows. Second problem, my six foot, six inch tall brother doesn't fit in my little car, especially with a big boot on one foot. So early this morning, in the dark, he drove us to the hospital in his van. We got there in plenty of time and, as I said the surgery went well.  They told me it would take about an hour and a half and it did. The last hurdle to overcome was me driving him home in his big old van.  First I had to figure out how to unlock it.  Did you know you can u nlock a car with the key? No remote here. Once I was in the car with the mirrors and seat adjusted, I was able to maneuver it up to the hospital entrance without hitting anything (I had made him park in a pull-through space so I didn't have to back it up), transfer him from wheelchair to car, and away we went,  Happily it was an easy, uneventful drive back to his house where I got him settled safely inside then hopped in my little Fiat and headed home. Mission accomplished. By the way, there has been a lot of bad press about VA hospitals in the last couple of years but I saw nothing but pleasant professionalism and efficiency at the Fort Wayne VA hospital today.

no real surprises

Back before  Christmas I spit in a tube and sent away for my DNA analysis and now I have the results.  At first glance it seems that my ancestry is 51.8 percent French and German. The French part surprises me a little although my mother always said we had some French ancestry.  Sadly, at least for my son, I am less that one tenth of one percent Asian and less than one tenth of one percent Native American so there go his hopes for minority scholarships for my granddaughters.  There are still several layers of information I have yet to explore like the fact that I supposedly have at least 30 "cousins" living in Ohio and many more DNA matches around the country, notably in Texas and California. I do actually have some cousins in California but Texas??? This is a multi layered report so I will have some fun exploring futher.  Just as soon as I discover that I am related to someone fabulously rich and famous I'll be sure to let you know.

What could be so important?

I just saw a clip on evening TV news from someone's dash cam (an interesting invention) showing a person driving a white pickup truck cutting around a stopped car and crossing a railroad track seconds before a highspeed train came roaring through.  Evidently this has gone viral. He drove around the crossing arms, that were down, and ignored the flashing lights.  So now I'm wondering, why was he in such a rush? Did he have anyone in the truck with him? Like maybe a pregnant wife in labor? So then he'd be risking two lives besides his own?  Was he being chased by police? No sign of that but I bet they're after him now. Was he on his way to a party and didn't want the beer to get warm? Was he late for work or class? Which of those scenarios is worth risking your life for? It looked like there was only one car stopped in front of him at the crossing so it wasn't like he would have to wait for a huge line of cars to get through after the train passed. By the way, lest you think I'm being sexist or politically insensitive, the voice on the dash cam recording referred to the driver as a guy as in "What does that guy think he's doing?" I'm truly glad there wasn't an accident and I hope that the driver has learned a lesson from his close call, but I doubt it.

This would be a shock.

I heard a report on the news this evening about the reopening of an investigation into the deaths of a wealthy couple in California.  Evidently at first it was assumed that the two hanged people had committed suicide but some new evidence is pointing to murder. None of that would have caught my interest but the next statement did. "The bodies were discovered by their Realtor when he came to set up for an open house."  Talk about a nasty shock.  I was a Realtor for 20 years and walked in on some interesting and unexpected scenes from time to time; people sleeping in what was supposed to be a vacant house, a crow caught in a bedroom, dishes stacked to the ceiling in a kitchen sink because the sellers had been told to clean off the counter tops to name a few.  Once, on a group tour to see a new listing, we walked in on a couple (guests of the owners) having sex on the livingroom floor. Their hosts had forgotten to mention that we would be coming. But never, never did I ever find dead bodies in a house where I was planning to hold an open house. I'm pretty sure that would have brought my real estate career to a screeching halt.  No mention in the report if the Realtor managed to sell the house. I'm guessing not but my nasty, mystery loving mind envisions a scene where the Realtor, having found the bodies, but knowing that he has already spent a bundle on advertising, locks the bedroom door, goes ahead with the open house and then calls the police.  Just kidding, I know that would never happen.  

going off the grid

I'll be traveling with a friend to Australia in a few weeks and she called me this evening because she couldn't figure out how to use the power converter she had bought to be able to charge her phone and use her hairdryer while we're traveling.  I was absolutely no help at all.  I explained to her what she then recalled from our other trips together - I don't take anything with me that needs pluggling in or charging.  My digital camera uses batteries, I don't use a hairdryer, and I turn my phone off when I leave the country. I know, I know, how weird is that?  I remember sitting at a dinner in Scotland two years ago. At one point, of the 15 of us around the table only three, myself included, were not on our phones.  I think that's a shame.  There are so many interesting things to experience and people to meet when traveling. For example, during that same meal I had a great conversation with our tour bus driver, a nice young man named Kevin, who spoke with such a thick Scots accent that I had to have him write a couple of things down - TV shows he was recommending I should watch on Netflix. Learning about culture in other countries is so interesting, isn't it?

Banking might be getting easier.

I do much of my banking on line these day but sometimes, like today, I need to get cash and that means actually going to my bank or paying a fee at an ATM, which I don't like to do when I don't have to.  I know, I know, if I calculate the cost of gas vs the fee this may be false economy but it still feels right to me. Years ago, when we lived out north of Dupont Road, I started banking at Grabill Bank which had a branch less than a mile from our house. Over the years, through mergers, Grabill Bank became IAB (I never was sure what those initials stood for). In 2017, another merger, or takeover, happened and now I'n banking at First Merchants Bank.  This is fine, no big changes, but when I need to do banking that I can't do on line I still fine myself driving all the way out to one of two locations on Dupont Road.  There used to be a location on West Jefferson but the last time I drove out that way it had been transformed into a tire store. However, according to the evening news, First Merchant's is going to be leasing the second floor of the new Ash Brokerage building which is right downtown, less than a mile from where I live. Obviuosly I'm easily excited, but this news really does please me. One more good thing downtown!

Walk like a penguin.

Wow, I feel much better now.  When I'm walking on icy pavement, a parking lot, sidewalk, etc., I tend to take very small steps and go as slowly and carefully as possible.  The last time I did this I was internally scolding myself for walking like an old lady.  Of course I am an old lady (gasp, I really can't claim to be middle-aged any more.). More and more, as I take these tiny steps, I remind myself of Tim Conway doing his 'little old man' imitations. But, this evening on the local news a doctor gave some interesting advise. First he said that if you do slip on ice, hold your arms tight to your sides and roll up like a ball to avoid broken wrists and arms.  Really?  I have slipped on ice a few times in my life, most recently two weeks ago, and, believe me, as I was going down I really didn't have time to think about where my arms were. Luckily no broken bones.  But, what I enjoyed hearing in this doctor's advice this evening was "When you walk on ice, take tiny steps.  Walk like a penguin." Well, I feel better now.  I wasn't walking like an old lady, I was walking like a penguin. That sounds so much better.

And on...

I promise this will be my last post about cursive writing. I learned two interesting things today. First, legal signatures are not required to be in cursive. Second, a recent study has shown that "Cursive writing enhances cognative development." I believe this.  It's long been acknowledged that music and the visual arts help develop brain power in young children (so, of course they are the first subjects cut from school butgets when things get tight). Woops, I'd better stay off that soap box. I can imagine practicing cursive writing having some of the same positive effects so of course it has been cut from school programs because there's just not enough time to fit it in.  I remember really enjoying writing pages of  Cs because a row of lower case Cs written in cursive looks like waves on an ocean. Of course, I tended to get side tracked and draw little boats on my C ocean, and mermaids and jumping fish. My teacher, artist though he was, really didn't appreciate that. Go figure.

the debate goes on

On the local news this evening they announced that the State Senate has approved a bill requiring that all public schools teach cursive again. Now it has to be approved by the House.  I'm fine with this because I think cursive is a quick and efficient, and, if well done, very attractive way to write with pencil or pen on paper if you should happen to need to write on paper (which I still do quite a lot). When I was in 7th and 8th grade our teacher had us not only practicing cursive but doing it with a pen dipped in a bottle of ink.  Lucky for us the desks we were sitting at were so old that they still had the little holes cut in them to hold the ink bottle.  In the report the comment was made that one of the concerns about children not learning cursive is that they wouldn't be able to legally sign their names on documents like checks and deeds.  Is that true? I have never heard that a printed 'signature' isn't legally binding.  Way back in history an X was a legal signature if it was witnessed. Goodness knows, the signature I scrawl on the signature pads when I charge groceries seldom looks much like my cursive signature but no one has ever questioned it.  Perhaps we could just teach children to sign their names???

a foggoy, foggy day

The fog lifted for a while this morning, long enough for me to make it to church and back home, then it rolled in again, thick enough that for most of the day the view from my balcony has been basic gray. At one point the fog was so thick I could not see anything beyond the river. Interesting but not something that lured me outside.  In fact, I discovered, when I checked my calendar after church, that today is "International Sweat Pants Day". Well, who am I to ignore a great day like that?  My afternoon was spent, in comfy old sweat pants, reading a good book and generally goofing off. Let's hear it for a foggy, foggy Sunday. 

I think I can spot this one.

My good old fuschia colored suitcase has finally gone to wherever old suitcases go to die.  I liked that suitcase.  Because of its color it was easy to spot on baggage carousels, it had four wheels so easy to move and it had been, not exactly around the world, but on lots of trips with me.  Israel, Italy, Croatia, Scotland and more. Sadly, on the way home from a recent trip to Spokane it somehow got a long rip in one seam. The only thing holding stuff in was the inside lining.  I thought briefly of fixing it with duct tape (my brother suggested transparent Gorilla tape) but I decided that would look a little (ok a lot) tacky. So, after careful though and with a trip coming up soon, I went suitcase shopping. I thought I knew what I wanted. I was considering the newer style hard side suitcases but for the same dimensions they don't look like they would hold as much. I finally found what was obviously my suitcase tucked away behind some other suitcases on a shelf at Carsons. It's soft side, very similar in size and organization features to my old suitcase, with four wheels, and (are you ready for this?) it's turquoise.  Actually the trim is turquoise and the main fabric is a checked pattern with two-inch squares of navy, light blue, white and truquoise. It's pretty, and even better, I'm sure I'll be able to spot it on any airport carousel, anywhere. And, according to the tag it has a 10-year warranty. That should get me through most of my remaining traveling years.

Dig out your thesaurus'

Today, according to my calendar, is "Thesaurus Day". It's also "Popcorn Day" according to the morning news announcer.  Not sure how those two go together but I can imagine munching popcorn while flipping through a thesaurus.  Evidently a couple of people got the memo because this morning I heard someone advertising mortgage loans promise that the application process was 'simple and easy'.  On the evening news I learned that something going on in Washington (DC that is) is 'needless and unnecessary'. Well, no surprise there.  One good bit of news - the looming government shutdown will not affect Social Security payments. I shall be able to continue consuming and ingesting food for the foreseeable future.  

a big red coat

I mentioned to my brother that I was thinking of buying a new, warmer every-day coat and he gave me one.  Turns out that his ex left behind a red wool hooded car coat that she doesn't want any more (I suspect because they had bought jackets together - his is dark green) so he gave it to me today. It's a little large for me but very warm.  I wore it to the grocery store (almost too warm) and then while I pumped gas.  It was really warm, especially with the hood up so it has passed the gas pumping test. Interestingly, now that I have this lovely warm coat the weather forecast for the next several days is for sunshine and somewhat warmer (above freezing) weather. Let me tell you, if having this warmer coat in my closet causes warm weather that's just fine with me.  I don't care if I don't need to wear it again til next December.

Comfort Foods

I ate at one of my favorite Fort Wayne restaurants, El Azteca, this evening, nachos and fideo soup, and when I got home found myself feeling warm and full and thinking that was real comfort food.  Then I started to wonder, when did Mexican food become confort food for me?  When I was a child comfort foods included good German food like mashed potatoes and noodles.  Don't knock it if you haven't tried it.  When I was cooking for my husband and children my spaghetti seemed to be the comfort food of choice, with garlic toast of course.  Now, it seems to me, things like Pad Tai or nachos and burritos have become my comfort foods of choice.  I think, if I'm honest with myself, my basic definition of comfort food these days is anything warm and spicy that I don't have to cook myself. Appropriately today is "Ditch New Year's Resolutions Day" which I seem to be doing by eating in restaurants and not counting calories. Ah well. Oh, did I mention dark chocolate? Obviously the ultimate comfort food. 

Scariest picture ever!

The picture I'm referring to shows a snowy scene with a nice looking young man standing by a cute, sporty looking little red car. "What's so scary about that?" you may ask. Nothing, actually, except that the nice looking young man is my 16-year-old grandson and the car is his first car. That means that sooner or later he's going to be out on the roads driving that car. I may even end up riding with him. I'm not sure I'm ready for this, but time moves on whether I'm ready or not. 

something to think about....

..when you have plenty of time and absolutely nothing else to think about.  I heard this statement on a commercial this evening "We want your car buying experience to be fun and enjoyable." So now I'm trying to think of something that is fun but not enjoyable or enjoyable but not fun. I can think of some things that are not fun or enjoyable like going to the dentist or the last 'fun ride' I went on at a fair with my grandchildren, but everything I think of that's fun is also enjoyable.  Ok, I've run out of time for this problem. I need to find something more fun and enjoyable to think about. Perhaps falling asleep qualifies.

There's a method to my madness.

I hosted a small group of church friends at my place this afternoon for a carry-in supper and discussion. We get together at a different person's home once a month and the hostess (sorry if  that's not PC) provides the main course while others bring salad and dessert.  I knew, because of weather consideration and the flu that seems to be spreading, that the group would be small but I still went ahead and made a large crockpot of Creamy Ranch Chicken Chili. This is a new recipe that I tried out a few months ago and really like.  Since i'm not overly fond of cooking but do like good food, my plan was to have lots of leftovers to freeze for many meals to come. I'm not a great cook but I can freeze with the best of them.  Sadly, or not, everyone loved the chili, ate seconds, and took some home with them. This was a nice compliment to the chili but left me with very little in the way of leftovers. Ah well, I did get to keep one of the brownies that were provided for dessert and I will have chili for supper tomorrow.

meaning no disrespect

i just got home from a really excellent Philharmonic concert called "Nordic Landscapes", This concert was held at the Auer concert hall on the IPF - woops - Purdue University, Fort Wayne campus. During two of the pieces, while quietly beautiful music was being played, wonderful views of snowy landscapes, strange rock formations and magnificent mountains were projected on large overhead screens.  It was all quite lovely and very well done but half way through the second piece a silly thought flashed through my mind.  Do you remember the sci-fi movie from many years ago called "Solient Green"? In the movie, people of the world are living on a planet destroyed by war (everything is grey and gloomy) and surviving mainly on a manufactured food substance called Soilent (sp?) Green.  But in a scene toward the end of the movie old people are gathered in a large room where they are shown movies of beautiful landscapes from the time before the earth was destroyed.  After they enjoy the lavishly beautiful scenes, they are put to death (they know this is coming) because they are old and have outlived their usefulness, and then - spoiler alert - turned into Soilent Green. Why on earth this weird old movie should have come to mind I do not know.  I'm happy to report that as we left there was no one waiting outside to wisk us off to some unknown destination. Although their was this one large white bus from some place called TowneHouse that looked a little suspicious to me.

A scene from Siberia

I generally really enjoy the view of the river that I have from my balcony (or window on a really chilly day). Today's view, while interesting, wasn't very appealing at all. I looked out in the morning and saw a long narrow snow covered board floating slowly along with a few bits of ice clinging to it.  I wasn't surprised to see that the river was pretty high after all of the rain we had yesterday. No idea where the board came from or what it had been part of. A few hours later I looked out and, while the mysterious board was still there, it was completely surrounded by chunks and slabs of ice; some really large, some small, some white, some muddy brown. Not a pretty sight but very interesting as they slowly floated down the river on their way to New Haven I guess.  The ice parade lasted for several hours but by nightfall most of the large chunks had moved on.  It was, as I said, very interesting in a chilling sort of way.  Honestly, though, I would much rather be watching a parade of kayaks and pontoon boats floating buy.  Summer can't come too soon for me. Four weeks sounds about right.

What day is it?

I enjoy calendars.  I'm sure you realize that from my frequent references to special days on the calendar my apartment management passes out.  Day after tomorrow, for example, is "Rubber Duckie Day". Since I don't own a rubber duckie I may just celebrate that day by humming a few bars of the Sesame Street rubber duckie classic.  My favorite calendars are the page a day type.  Every morning, assuming I don't need to rush off anywhere, I enjoy a Sudoko puzzle from one calendar and a Mensa puzzle from another.  In addition, this year, i was given a page a day "Old Farmers Almanac" calendar. Each day provides me with a bit of wit or wisdom like how to get a splinter out using a pop bottle. Today I learned two interesting headache cures.
1. Scrape moss from a skull, pound it into a powder and sniff it into your nose.Or 2. (if you don't happen to have a mossy skull lying around) apply tobacco leaves to your temples. 
I'm sure you have found these tips jsut as helpful ans I did.

That's just the way it is.

My youngest granddaughter and I had an interesting conversation as I drove her home from school today.  She has been studying the Korean language recently and claims it's really pretty easy to learn. She can write and read their symbols and translate most of what she reads.   
She also has some familiarity with French since her mother is a French teacher.  After talking about these languages she pointed out to me that English is a difficult language to learn because of its inconsistencies. I know she's right (or should that be write or rite?). Words like through, though, tough, rough and gruff can be confusing.  Then she asked me a couple of questions I couldn't answer. Why do we say feet smell and noses run?  Why do we look up something or type out a report while we write down our notes? I'm sure you can think of more English language mysteries. Feel free to share them with me.  In the meantime (why is time mean?) I am going to go brush my teeth, using my tooth (why not teeth?) brush, and go to bed.  Too many questions make my head spin.

Indiana's first tribal casino...

That statement caught my attention on the evening news.  I'm not an addicted gambler or anything.  It's been at least five years since I've been in any casino, but, given the opportunity, I do enjoy playing Blackjack. Sadly my yen to gamble seems to conflict with my conservative German heritage. While my family loved to play games (and still do) we never played for money, possibly because we didn't have any.  When I do get to stroll through a casino I'm often frustrated by the fact that many of the Blackjack tables want a minimum $10 or $25 bid.  That's too much for me.  Once, many years ago when my husband and I were in Las Vegas, back when slot machines took real coins instead of paper slips and credit cards, we were happily wandering around playing nickle and dime slots, winning a little, losing a little, when we came to a machine that refused to take our nickles even though there was a big 5 on top of the machine.  After we tried a few times the lady at the next machine gave us a condescnding look and informed us in a lofty voice "That's a five dollar machine!"  Who knew?  We beat a hasty retreat.  
This new Indiana casino is called "The Four Winds" and will open next week in South Bend. Hummmm.... I have friends in South Bend.

The fun side of tutoring

Every Monday afternoon I tutor a third grade boy in reading and math.  While he is a little behind his grade level in both subjects, he frequently surprises me with his thinking.  For example, before Christmas break we were working on filling out a multiplication chart and, while he had told me he didn't know how to do multiplication, he figured out quickly that, in the 'threes' for example, each number in the sequence was just three more thatn the one before.  Today, we worked on a page of multiplication problems and, while he referred to the chart for some answers, he was counting by twos, threes, fives etc. to solve the others. It was fun to watch.  Each week we also play a math board game and I was very pleased that today he suggested some variations on the game.  It's such fun to watch children's brains work. 

So now I know.

I only subscribe to the Sunday Journal Gazette these days, otherwise I just end up recycling lots of paper without having read much of the contents.  Every Sunday morning when I get up, usually about 7:30 or 8:00am, I open the front door of my apartment and there's the paper, hanging in a plastic bag on my doorknob. A side note here - those long narrow plastic bags are perfect for packing shoes when traveling. I've been mildly curious about what time the paper actually gets delivered.  Not curious enough to get up early to check it out but mildly curious.  Today I got my answer. A friend who was visiting for the weekend got called into work unexpectecly and had to leave here at 5:00am. As I was walking her out to her car to help with luggage, etc, the paper person was walking down the other end of my hallway hanging papers on doors.  By the time I got back up to my apartment my paper was waiting for me.  So now I know, 5:00am is the time (just in case I ever have insomnia and need my newspaper fix).  It did occur to me that this paper delivery man has a pretty nice route.  I din't know where else he covers on his route but walking up and down hallways has got to beat walking from house to house, especially in five degree weather. No wonder he was smiling.

Cheers for "Red"

I saw a really fascinating play at First Presbyterian Theater this evening.  "Red" is the story of the artist Mark Rothko creating a series of murals for the Four Seasons Restaurant in New York City. While it sounds like a possibly dry subject, the intense interactions between Rothko and his assistant were complimented by some great humor and the whole play (5 short acts with no intermissions) was extremely well done.  I came away wanting to go visit lots of art galleries and pick up a paint brush.  I recommend "Red".

How do they do that?

I just finished watching the women's division, National Figure Skating Championship competition which determined who goes on to the Olympics.  Keep your eyes on a young lady named Grady. I always marvel at these graceful souls who can make twirls and spins look so effortless.  I know they have practiced for years and years.  I can't help wondering what the early years must have been like when a coach somewhere said "OK, now I want you to skate real fast, leap up into the air, spine around three times and land gracefully on one skate blade." Yeah, right.  I'm certainly glad I'm not a judge at this event because I still can't tell a triple lutz from a triple toe jump. I watch what looks like a perfect jump to me (she didn't fall down) and listen as the comentators say that it was a little too slow or she didn't do the full three spin rotation ot the last half spin was on the ice not in the air.  I'm glad they know what they're looking for.  The part that always amazes me the most is the spins.  How can a skater start spinning and speed up while squating down then standing up on one leg while lifting the other leg up over her head and holding it there with one or both hands. I'm sure that even in my most flexible youth I could never lift my leg up over my head like that while standing still on firm ground, let alone while spinning on ice.  Ah well, it's beautiful to watch and I will just enjoy it. Let the judges do the judging.  

my current favorite joke

I'm not claiming this is original but here is my current favorite joke.  It makes me laugh because it's so true.  I'm planning to be cremated when I die.  It's my last chance to have a smoking hot body.

more soecial days

I received my apartment newsletter yesterday. This is the one that includes interesting special days but some are leaving me with questions this month. For Instance today is "Drinking Straw Day". I didn't even know you could drink straw, sounds dry to me. Next week Monday is "Bubble Bath Day" but "Rubber Duckie Day" isn't until Saturday, the 13th.  Shouldn't those two be celebrated together? 

There must be a mistake.

I flew home to Fort Wayne yesterday from Spokane, Washington where I spent a week with family.  My oldest brother traveled with me. Spokane, and especially the courtryside where my younger brother and family lives looked like a winter wonderland, snow covered the hills and distant mountains and flocked all of the evergreens.  The temperature was a reasonable wintery 29 degrees. I wasn't expecting anything much different here (except for no mountains of course) but as we were approaching Fort Wayne International Airport the pilot came on the intercom to announce that the current temperature in Fort Wayne was minus 18 degrees centegrade, minus 2 farenheit. I thought there must be sone mistake, maybe I misheard him. A few miles closer, about midnight now, he announced that the temperature was minus 13 in Fort Wayne, farenheit that is.  I really didn't want to hear that. We had driven to the airport in my brothers old van and I was really hoping it would start after sitting in long term parking for a week. A side note here: the weatherman on the 11pm news just said that our low last night (it really was -13) was the same as the low last night in Antarctica. I'm sure you're as excited about that as I am. 
I do want to offer kudos to our local airport. Not only did we get cookies as we stumbled off the plane at 12:30am, we also had shuttle service. I think this is a fairly new offering. When we parked in the long term lot a week ago a free shuttle pulled up just as we were unloading our suitcases and the nice man loaded our suitcases in his shuttle, drove us to the terminal and carried our bags in as far as check in. Of course we tipped him but what a nice service. When we got to luggage pick up last night the same helpful man was waiting to shuttle another person to the parking lot. He agreed to take us along also, loaded our bags in our van, waited to be sure it would start (it did!) and even scraped the windshield for us.  You can be sure he got another nice tip.  Excellent service Fort Wayne International!!