how embarrassing

 Happy Halloween everyone.  Evidently the tear in dress happened earlier than I thought yesterday because one of the audience members asked her friend, one of the other actors, what was wrong with my costume.  How embarrassing.  Today I took things into my own hands.  Just in case the dress hadn't been repaired, I took along a dress of my own to wear.  It's a nice dress.  I bought it in Seattle five years ago after my luggage was stolen (but that's a different story).  The dress I had been wearing in the play is solid navy blue with peach trim and three quarter length sleeves, definitely 50s.  My dress is a sleeveless navy blue with a pattern of tiny white flowers.  The old dress had not been repaired so I wore mine, with a waist length navy blue three quarter length sleeve sweater over it, fastened low in front to give it a bolero look.  Those were popular in the 50s.  This is the same sweater I always wear with it.  I put on the hat, pearls and gloves that are part of the costume and here's the other embarrassing part.  No one noticed the difference.  One of the other actors did say, after the show, that she thought something looked a little different.  So now here's the question?  Is everyone just really unobservant, or do I always go around looking like a refugee from the 50s?  Don't answer that. 

costume malfunction

 I think I've mentioned before that one of the costumes I wear in the play I'm in (which takes place in the 50s) is a vintage dress from the 50s or earlier.  Once or twice when I've pulled it off over my head (the only way to get it off, and I am very gentle with it) I've heard suspicious little popping noises.  I left a note for the wardrobe person that I thought some threads were snapping in the waist.  I got a note back saying she didn't have time to work on this right now.  Tonight, when I took this old dress off after the performance I noticed a six inch gap across the back where the waist had torn out.  I know it wasn't like that when I put it on before the show but I'm not sure when it happened.  I didn't hear any ripping sounds when I was on stage, thankfully.  Our next performance is at 2:00pm tomorrow.  I wonder what I'll be wearing?

opening night

 The show has officially opened and we had a large audience.  So far, no jitters.  I was a little concerned.  We don't, as a rule, wear glasses on stage.  In years past that was not a problem.  In fact it was a help.  With my glasses off, the audience area was a dark blur so I didn't feel like anyone was watching.  It was just another rehearsal as far as I was concerned.  Now, after some very successful cataract surgery earlier this year, I can see the audience.  Darkly of course, but still definitely more clearly than in  years past.  Another change.  In previous plays, with a different director, we weren't allowed to mingle with the audience after the play, until we were in street clothes when most people had left.  This time we were encouraged to go talk with people while still in costume, which means people got to see my little blue hat, fancy gloves and vintage dress close up.  Lucky them.  It was fun though.  

it's only fair

 Tonight was preview night, our last official dress rehearsal, but with a small live audience.  It's always good when people in the audience laugh where they're supposed to and gasp where they're supposed to.  That's enough about the play.  Today is also National Chocolate Day and Plush Animal Lovers Day.  This seems right.  Yesterday was a man's day.  Today seems like a woman's day.  At least this woman's day.  I do own one plush animal (far and away the easiest kind of pet) and I usually have some kind of chocolate on hand.  Especially with Halloween only three days away.  That's this weeks excuse, anyway.

 Today is National Potato Day, American Beer Day and Boxer Shorts Day.  If that doesn't sound like a day made for men, I don't know what does.   That's it, that's all I've got.  Too many late night rehearsals.  

a logical combination

 Today is Horseless Carriage Day.  When I used to see Amish neighbors driving in the winter in their open buggies, it made me really appreciate my personal 'horseless carriage.'  I have had several cars over the years and I've liked them all.  Interestingly, today is also National Mule Appreciation Day.  I can understand that.  In the early days of horseless carriage operation, it was probably wise to keep a mule around to pull your HC out of ditches and other muddy situations.  Sadly, a good mule is never very handy these days (at least in my neighborhood) so now we have to rely on tow trucks.  Convenient but dull.

updates

 Needless to say, the crew did not start tuckpointing my apartment building today.  Too soggy. But, happily, no leak; I guess it needs a driving rain for that.  It's National Greasy Food Day; please pass the French Fries.  Rehearsals continue to go well, but long, we didn't finish up till 10:30 tonight.  The play isn't long, just the rehearsals.  This is the week of dress rehearsals.  This play takes place in the 1950s.  The men are wearing short sleeve dress shirts with ties, shades of my husband's wardrobe in the 60s, except no pocket protectors.  I am wearing two different dresses that where evidently sewn in the 50s, with hats and gloves of course.  Our costume lady tells me I have a perfect figure for vintage dresses.  It makes sense I guess, old dresses, old body.

a bird's eye view

 You may remember a few weeks ago when I wrote about a ceiling leak in my 10th floor apartment.  When I spoke with maintenance about it I was informed that some repairs would soon be made.  Last Thursday we all (the tenants that is) received an email telling us that tuck pointing and other repairs will begin tomorrow.  It should be interesting to watch and see what kind of equipment they use to get as high as the 14th floor.  For all the years I've lived here I've joked that the only people who could come knocking at my balcony door would be Superman or Batman.  But now, who knows who might show up?  Stay tuned.  

just call me techy...

 Friends who know me know that I am a big fan of some things technical.  I love my phone, which does things no phone was ever intended to do, and my laptop and my tablet and even my Fitbit.  They all save me time and bring me joy.  Friends who know me also know that I do not delve deeply into things technological.  I can learn which buttons to push and, when all else fails, how to turn the equipment off and on again, but I do not try to rewrite code or alter programs.  So day before yesterday, when my mouse died, I was baffled.  Where was the little arrow that should be dancing across my laptop screen?  I needed to sign on to a Zoom meeting, and finally remembered that I could use the little finger pad built into my computer, and I did manage to get signed on.  But the mouse is so much easier.  In case you're wondering, I do not have touch screen on this device.  Today, when I had time to take a careful look at the mouse, still apparently dead, I noticed a tiny little on/off switch.  It was on.  Then I noticed some fine lines around one end of the mouse and a tiny symbol that looked a little like a battery.  Well, with some cleverly applied thumb pressure, I opened that little compartment and replaced the battery.  I guess once each four years is reasonable.  I am happy to report that my mouse is now performing brilliantly.  I must add this to my list of tech abilities.  I can replace batteries.

Yawn...

 Today is INTERNATIONAL CAPS LOCK DAY.  It's also the day our rehearsal ran til 11:30pm.  Good night all. 

Yummmm...

 Today is "International Day of the Nacho" which is a very fine day in my opinion.  Although I don't understand why it's singular.  In my experience no one eats only one nacho.  By a happy coincidence, I had nachos for lunch today.  A group of us gathered for lunch and a meeting at La Margarita on Calhoun Street.  Since it was lunch, I had a half order of bean nachos and a cup of Mexican potato soup.  The soup reminded me a lot of fideo soup but with little pieces of potato instead of noodles.  It was really good.  The nachos were excellent - individual chips topped with refried beans, one slice of jalapeno and melted cheese.  As I was eating them, it occurred to me that they were made just the way I used to make them for my family.  Don't you love good authentic home cooking?

blame it on Covid

 Perhaps I spoke too soon.  I hadn't experienced any side effects from my Covid booster before I went to bed last night.  However, sometime in the middle of the night I woke up shivering and shaking (no, my window wasn't open).  I solved the problem by wrapping up in my warmest bathrobe and then crawling back under the covers.  I wasn't quite desperate enough to dig out my electric blanket.  I've only had chills like that once before and that was a reaction to a shingles shot.  While it wasn't very comfortable for a while there, it did give me an excellent excuse (Covid shot, restless night) for flubbing one of my lines during rehearsal tonight.  Everyone was sympathetic.  Sadly, that's only a one time excuse.  Hopefully that's all I'll need.

now I've done it....

I got my booster shot today.  So now I am as protected as I can be from Covid 19.  Not sure about any other strains but I've done what I can.  I went to the Miro Center on the Parkview campus and, even though I hadn't made an appointment, I just zipped right through.  Well, except for the 15 minute wait to make sure I wasn't going to pass out or anything.  I was surprised that there were several other people there.  One friend warned me that, as a side effect, I might have a headache - not so far.  Another warned me that I might have a sore arm - not so far.  I am feeling very sleepy though.  If that's a side effect, I can live with it.  Good night.  

testing....

 Today I had my first ever Covid test.  Happily the result was negative. The reason for the test was my granddaughter's exposure to Covid last Wednesday. Before he knew she had been exposed and brought the possibility of infection home, my son gave me a ride to a rehearsal on Thursday night.  Happily, all of us have tested negative.  Of course we have all had out shots so that's the way it's supposed to work.  I was reluctant to have this test because I didn't think I would enjoy having someone stick a cotton swab up my nose.  I still don't think I would like that but, happily, Walgreens has a different system.  Following directions emailed to me, I drove up to their drive-through window, rolled the window down just enough to communicate and pass things back and forth.  The friendly masked stranger behind the window and plexiglass layers showed me just where to hold the swab and and how far to stick it up my nose.  I'm sure it was much more comfortable doing it myself.  The instructions said that I would receive the results sometime in the next two to twenty-four hours.  However, when I had made the twenty minute drive home and checked my email, the result was already there.  The next step for me is to get my booster shot and I hope to do that tomorrow.  But I will not self-administer.  In the meantime, I hope you have been enjoying "International Adjust Your Chair Day."  I will continue celebrating by tilting my recliner back just a little farther. 

picture this

 Today is "World Toy Camera Day."  But I don't understand the reason for this celebration.  I'm trying to remember if my children even had toy cameras.  They must have, probably made by Fischer Price.  I'm sure my son could have built a camera out of Legos if he really wanted to.  Now, if we were celebrating View Masters, I would certainly understand.  Those were the nifty little devices into which one inserted a disk (yes we had disks back then) and could look at pictures in 3D.  Wow!  I actually have a long history with cameras but not the toy kind.  I always have a camera with me on trips, going way back to the little brownie I took along on our senior class trip to Washington and NYC.  During our camping days my husband and I took many, many, many pictures of scenic wonders; most of which ended up as slides.  Back in the day friends took turns sitting through each others slide shows.  It was the neighborly thing to do.  These days I can load pictures from my digital camera onto my laptop, from there to my TV and just let the pictures scroll through in case any visitors are interested.  But getting back to toy cameras, I really think my cell phone is similar to a toy camera.  Children will take pictures of anything and everything with their little toy cameras and that is just how I use my phone.  I never need to worry about memory cards or downloading anything.  I can just click away at anything and everything whenever I feel like it, just like a toy, except I end up with real pictures.  What fun!  I love good toys, don't you?

tough decision

 I got a friendly reminder from my bank the other day that the fee for my safe deposit box will be automatically withdrawn from my checking account on November 1.   That got me to wondering what was in my SDB and if I even need it anymore.  So today I went to the bank and delved into my box.  I won't bore you with a complete inventory list.  Suffice it to say,  I don't really see the sense of keeping old, old paperwork (like deeds of houses I haven't owned in years) in a box I have to pay for.  Last year I gave up my land line, this year my safe deposit box.  What will be next I wonder?  

Booo!

 I saw the play "The Haunting of Hill House" at Arena Dinner Theater this evening.  It was their first live show since before the pandemic and it was a perfect Halloween show.  Some laughs, lots of spooky sound effects and the heroine who goes into the spooky tower (where no one should ever go).  All in all a very entertaining show.  The only thing lacking was the 'dinner.'  Instead of dinner, they served a dessert buffet (quite tasty) and coffee.  Not sure if that's a permanent change or not.  Since I was never too crazy about their dinners, I was perfectly happy to enjoy two desserts.  We were allowed two.  I did notice one elderly lady, pushing a walker, who had brought a Tupper Ware container and seemed to be loading it with desserts.  I doubt it was planned, but it did make for interesting intermission entertainment.

a costume malfunction??

 This evening was my first opportunity to try on my costumes for the play.  One is a dark print shirt waist dress, very typical of the 50s and it fit me perfectly.  Then I tried to try on the second dress, a navy blue, sophisticated looking dress, suitable for wearing to visit someone who is grieving.  When I pulled it on over my head, I realized something was wrong.  There were big holes at the back of my arms where the back of the sleeves should be.  At first I thought it was the current style of bare shoulders in sleeves but then I realized that was highly unlikely in a dress of the 50s.  By the time I got the dress off, the sleeves were hanging on by threads and I hadn't put any strain on them at all.  I guess it was really good that this happened in the dressing room and not on stage.  I really don't want to do an Incredible Hulk imitation in front of an audience.

In the bag(s)

 This evening our church held its seventh annual (with time off for the pandemic) food bagging event.  In conjunction with a group called 216 we bag a combination of dried vegetables, soy, rice and a packet of vitamins which can reverse the effects of malnutrition in sealed bags that can be shipped anywhere and, when boiled in water, will make a nutritious and pretty tasty soup.  Each bag holds four meals.  Every thing is set up assembly line style and teams of seven to ten people pour in ingredients, measure the weight, seal the bags and box them up, 36 bags to a box.  There were seventy people there this evening and together, in just a little over two hours, we prepped and boxed 25,000 meals.  These meals are heading for Haiti.  I had an easy job.  My part in the assembly line process was to weigh the filled bags, then add or take out a little rice until each bag weighed between 395 and 400 grams.  A little repetitious but the best way I know to fix 25,000 meals.  In case you're wondering, and I'm sure you are, our team of seven filled 13 boxes, 36 bags per box.  We weren't the speediest team (or the youngest) but we did our share.  

a funny flash back

 The play I'm in takes place in the 1950s and all of the scenes are played in the living room of the main family's apartment.  Among the furniture on the set are two large over-stuffed chartreuse colored chairs.  I've been looking at those chairs for several days now and wondering if they really fit the 50s theme.  Then suddenly, as I was looking at them this evening, I realized that the sectional sofa we had in our living room during the 50s and beyond was the exact same color.  Even our living room walls were painted that color.  My mother really liked chartreuse.  It must have been a popular color at the time.  So now I'm looking at these old chairs with more respect.  Such a silly little memory.  

be mean

 I am by nature a fairly nice person, I think.  As I've been rehearsing for this play, I've been playing my character as kind and sympathetic.  After all, one of the students in her school has died mysteriously and the mother is grieving.  However, after last Thursday's rehearsal the director told me he wanted me to play the part mean and, interestingly, all of my lines can be read as firm and even a little mean.  After our rehearsal on Sunday, when I played it his way, the director said I had improved one hundred percent.  After I left (I'm only in act one) I was  told (by my son who is in both acts) that the director, in his summing up, said I had improved 10,000 percent.  I would like to think that's a compliment but it does make me wonder how bad I was before.  He also called my character a "bee-yatch" which I have never been called before.  I have my next rehearsal tomorrow night.  Excuse me while I go practice my bitchiness.  

Aloha...

 Last night two friends and I attended the 'Jake Shimabukuro' concert at the Clyde theater.  Jake Shimabukuro is a ukulele player from Hawaii, which is a little bit like saying Mozart was a piano player from Austria.  The sounds Jake gets out of a ukulele are unbelievable.  I have been a fan of his from the first time I heard him play, which I think was about 12 years ago at the C2G music hall here in Fort Wayne.  He's been here several times since including two years ago when he played with the Fort Wayne Philharmonic.  You can Google his name for more information. I highly recommend that you see him the next time he's in town.  The other fun thing about the evening was that the performance was held at the Clyde theater.  The first time I remember going to the Clyde Theater (when it was the biggest movie theater in Fort Wayne) was in 1957.  Our class was taken on a field trip to see "The Ten Commandments." The Clyde has certainly changed since then, but I'm so pleased to see it back in use.  

The egg and I....

 Today is World Egg Day.  I'm not sure why today has that distinction unless it's because of the ovals in 10-8 or the Os in October.  It does seem appropriate that this should be a day celebrated world wide since I can't think of any food more universally eaten, except maybe bread and milk.  When I was a child there was a popular book published called "The Egg and I."  It described the efforts of a city woman to live in the country (with her husband) and care for chickens, collect their eggs and make some money from the effort.  This book was published just about the time my city dwelling parents decided to buy and fix up an old house in the country on five acres.  Included with the package were two chicken coops.  Happily, probably after reading the book, my parents decided to raise chickens, but only to sell as fryers at eleven weeks old.  Chickens grow fast.  In addition to the 1500 chickens in the coops, my mother decided at one point that we should also have a few free range Banty chickens.  I think she had dreams of using their eggs for our breakfasts.  Sadly roaming chickens tend to lay their eggs in remote places resulting in eggs too old to eat by the time they are discovered.  We started the Banty experiment with five hens and one rooster.  Eventually some chicks came along.  The most memorable hatching happened in the crotch of a tree about five feet off the ground.  We kids watched in interest to see how the mama hen would get them out of the tree when they were old enough.  Luckily I got to see the event. (Any excitement is good in the summer in the country.)  As I watched, the hen actually kicked the chicks out of their nest in the tree.  They bounced a little when they hit the grass, but then got on their feet and toddled away.  I'm not exactly sure why, but eventually we gave all the Banty chickens away.  Possibly too much of a questionably good thing. 

 

a strange encounter

 Yesterday, after a typical trip to the grocery store, I had loaded my groceries into the car and was in the driver's seat buckling my seat belt, when a stranger approached my car, motioned me to lower the window, which I did for just an inch, and said "Give me the keys." This would have been scary except for the fact that the stranger was about five foot two and looked like a kindly grandmother, wearing a cute autumn sweatshirt.  It turned out that she was admiring my car and wanted to know what kind it was.  She walked all around the car, enjoyed the plate on the front of the car which my granddaughter had given me years ago, and kept saying how much she liked my car.  We had a nice chat, she was quite chatty, and then I drove off, after telling her I had melting groceries in my car.  Afterwards I found myself wondering if that was just, as it seemed, a pleasant chance encounter (which I choose to believe) or was it an attempt to get some information from me for a possible scam.  Isn't it sad that we live in a time that that would even occur to me?

Drumroll please!

 Today is "National German American Day.''  Since, on my father's side my heritage is 99.9 percent German, and on my mother's side, 85 percent (with a little Scots-Irish and French thrown in) I feel I can legitimately celebrate this holiday.  Sadly, I don't have a bit of sauerkraut in the house.  Mashed potatoes with some hot sauerkraut and a bit of sausage on top is truly a delicious dish.  My church in the town where I grew up, Lutheran of course, was still holding some services in German as late as the mid fifties.  My grandfather, my mother's father, worked in the coal mines of Pennsylvania until he earned enough to go to seminary.  He became a minister and his first call was to a German speaking community in the hills of Pennsylvania.  Since he had grown up speaking German as well as English, he didn't anticipate a problem.  Until he arrived in the small community and discovered that everyone there spoke Low German, while he spoke only High German.  When I was told this story as I child I really didn't comprehend the problem.  But I suspect the difference is like the difference between the English spoken in England and the English spoken in Glasgow, Scotland.  Probably other parts of Scotland also.  Our bus driver on a tour of Scotland, a lovely young man named Kevin, was from Glasgow.  I have been speaking English all my life, and get along just fine in most English speaking countries, but when Kevin talked to me I could only understand about one in ten words.  During one conversation, I had to ask him to write things down.  He was telling me about some really good BBC television shows I should be sure to watch.  I asked him to write the titles so I could remember them.  It was really because I had no idea what he was saying.  Evidently my grandfather was able to overcome the language barrier because he stayed in that small community for some years, long enough to meet and marry my grandmother. 

Coordination?

 My west coast niece has a new job.  She has given up working for a bakery, which required her to be at work at 4am, and has taken a job as cashier at an outdoor outfitters store called "North 40."  It's evidently quite a large store, large enough to include an indoor archery range.  I am so excited.  I hope I'll get to try it out the next time I go to visit them.  I have fond memories of archery.  When I was very young my brother and I and our neighbor roamed the range, aka our orchard, playing 'Cowboys and Indians.'  Sorry, I know that's not PC but it's what we called it back then.  The boys were the cowboys and I was always the Indian princess, with my little bow and rubber tipped arrows.  Since I was the oldest, I made up the story lines and was almost always the hero. 

Years later, when I went off to college, I was required to take several physical education classes (even though I was studying to be an art teacher).  Imagine my delight when I discovered that one of the PE options was Archery!  Since I have never been wildly well coordinated, the idea of taking a class where I could just stand still and only move my arms was very appealing.  I got an 'A' in that class, the only 'A' I have ever received in a PE class.  Sweet (no coordination required) memories.  

Ok, that's enough

 Today my ever-thoughtful west coast brother hit me with another number.  As of today, it's only 70 days until my birthday.  Since I'll be 77 then, it's an interesting repetition of sevens.  If you don't want to count, my birthday is on December 13.  Thirteen has been a good number for me over the years.  I was born on a 13, married on a 13, and had my first child on a 13.  My second child, the impatient one, was born on a 10.  I think it's interesting that, while I don't look forward to my birthdays with the eager excitement of childhood, I still feel a little twinge of anticipation as my birthday approaches.  It probably has something to do with just knowing I'm still here.  

counting down

 My west coast brother decided that, if I didn't want a frequent reminder of how close Christmas is, he should at least update me on Thanksgiving.  It's 53 days away in case you're wondering.  Which means I have 54 days until I need to put up my Christmas tree.  Goody! I can relax for a little while.  And speaking of relaxing, I've had a busy few weeks but today (at least after church) I had nothing on my calendar so I have been relaxing.  The sound of the rain has helped.  I have napped a little, read a little, watched a little TV.  Turns out that, when given the chance, I am a very good relaxer.

Hello Phil.

 I went to the Philharmonic concert at the Embassy this evening.  The first one there in a long, long time.  Beautiful Beethoven.  That was the major joy of my day.  I'm also enjoying the fact that the women's retreat I've been helping to plan for months went well and is over.  Those were the high points of my day.  The major irritant of the day was a text from my west coast brother reminding me that there are only 84 days left until Christmas.  For goodness sake, at least let me get past Halloween.  Although I do keep hearing warnings on the TV news that I should do my Christmas shopping really early this year because of shipping problems.  It seems that there is a shortage of truck drivers.  And that reminds me of a really scary bit I saw on the news yesterday.  Because of the truck driver shortage, teenagers are getting jobs driving semis.  Most teens already seem to think they're invincible in cars.  Watch out world.  

another great day

 Today is 'International Day of Older Persons.'  It's also 'International Racoon Appreciation Day.'  When I thought about it, I realized that all of the older people I have looked up to over the years, like teachers, were probably younger (though they seemed very old to me) in my memories than I am now.  That makes me wonder how old I look to the young people in my life.  It's good to know I have a 'day' although it's also a little depressing.  Being older, I do have a racoon story to share.  Appreciation might be too strong a word, but I did have a certain respect for this one.  When I was younger (isn't that how all older person's stories begin) and still a homeowner, I had a large rodent problem.  A big fat groundhog (I'm pretty sure groundhogs are rodents) moved into the nice dark space under one end of my deck.  She also liked to sunbathe on the deck when no one was looking.  I knew this by the little presents she left behind. Because I'm basically a kind hearted person, but also averse to having a rodent chew on the power cords for the AC that ran under that part of the deck, I hired an exterminator to set a live trap for the groundhog.  Each evening for four days, he bated the trap with pieces of apple, and each following morning there was a racoon sitting contentedly in the trap, eating the apple and waiting to be let out.  I wasn't out to get racoons so he was let go to run away.  Finally, on night five, the groundhog beat the racoon to the trap and she was caught.  The exterminator assured me that the groundhog would be released in a woods far, far away.  At that point I really didn't care to pursue the matter.  If that groundhog became stew, I neither know nor care.