a great gift...

 I do like to read, but I like books, fiction and non-fiction, but mostly fiction for escape reading, so when my daughter and son-in-law told me that they had bought me a subscription to "Reader's Digest" I was appreciative but not really thrilled.  I have never been an avid magazine reader, and suffered through an overdose of magazines some years ago.  After my husband died, I discovered, as the daily mail came, that he had subscribed to 28 magazines, mostly after he retired.  Rather than go through the process of trying to cancel those subscriptions, I just saved the magazines, and when I had a month's worth, took them to the VA hospital. They were thrilled to receive them and I was glad to get them out of the house.  Gradually all of the subscriptions ran out and I promised myself that I would never subscribe to another magazine.  All of that is to say that when I heard I would be receiving a magazine regularly I had visions of stacks of half read magazines piled up around my apartment.  Imagine my delight then when my first RD magazine arrived in the mail this week and I saw that it is only about half the size of the magazine I remember, and also comes only once every other month.  I can manage that.  I started reading this issues in short bursts during TV commercials, some of which go on almost longer than the program.  I've enjoyed the humor pieces and puzzles but also some really good articles.  I've read about progress in developing new cancer treatments, the hassles school and city librarians are going through with challenged books, and a report on a young man who had never piloted a plane, safely landing a plane when his pilot had a heart attack.  It also has a three page spread of recommended new books.  This is turning out to be a really good Christmas present.  Ho ho ho.

celebrate!!

 According to my west coast brother, today is "Yodel for Your Neighbors Day." While I have never been able to yodel, I do feel like standing on my balcony and yodeling for all my neighbors (if it wasn't so cold and if I didn't fear alienating everyone in the building) because I have something to celebrate.  Today the little first grader whom I have been tutoring since the beginning of the school year actually read a book to me.  Granted, it was a small, kindergarten level book with simple words, but he was putting together letter sounds to make words and sight reading some words like 'the' and 'see.'  I'm not taking the credit for this since I only see him one hour a week but I am so pleased that what he's been learning in class plus what he and I work on is starting to come together.  I have high hopes for this little guy.  Yodelodelodelodelo.....

a power suit??

 Years ago, when I was working in the business world, I learned that red is a power color.  When you were going to be in a negotiating position, it helped to wear a red tie (men) or red blazer (women).  I like red so I do wear it fairly often, but today, when I was wearing one of my favorite red jackets for church, I began to believe that there might be some truth in the power color idea.  During the morning, while I was at church, three different people complimented me on doing a good job, with helping with a meeting, reading part of a baptism liturgy, and having materials ready for another meeting.  I really appreciated their encouraging comments but was somewhat bemused. First, because the things I did were not anything unusual, and secondly because I was running on coffee, having not slept well the night before, and did not feel like I was doing anything particularly well.  Maybe I work best in a mental fog or maybe they were mercy compliments.  Or just maybe it was the illusion created by my now favorite red jacket.  Whatever the case, I'll take it.  If you see me wearing red a lot, you'll understand.

a true art form...

Today is "Local Quilt Shop Day."  While I'm not shopping for a quilt, I do love thinking about them.  I grew up with lovely quilts, some that were pieced by my grandmother and quilted by the Ladies Aid Society at our local church.  I remember their large quilting frame set up in the basement of the church.  I don't quilt but I do admire the beautiful quilts made by several of my friends and my daughter-in-law's mother, who has won several prizes with her quilts.  One of my favorite quilt memories involves an Amish made quilt.  During the few years that my husband and I and our children lived in south eastern Ohio, I belonged to a charitable sorority.  In addition to 'good deeds' we often took field trips with our husbands.  One of them was to an Amish farm that served meals to groups and gave tours explaining their life style.  Having grown up with Amish living near by, I was somewhat familiar with their culture but it was still an interesting outing.  After the dinner, which was a lot like my Aunt Dora's dinners (mashed potatoes and noodles and chicken, yumm) the lady of the house showed us some quilts she was working on.  My friend Pam, who loved all things authentic and antique, gushed over the lovely colors and patterns (they were beautiful quilts) and said "Oh, do you use all natural materials?"  to which the eminently practical lady replied "Oh no, I always use polyester.  It's so much more practical."  

remember..

 January 27 is the anniversary of the liberation of Aushwitz-Birkenau, and is an international holiday "Holocaust Remembrance Day" created by the United Nations to honor the millions of victims of the Holocaust and develop educational plans to prevent further genocides. I don't generally dwell on serious matters in this blog but this deserves remembrance.  I have visited Holocaust museums and one concentration camp, and it was horrific.  I am not Jewish but I do have one tenuous connection to Europe during World War II and it involves a lady who became one of my heroes.  My stepmother was born in the US of Polish parents who decided to move back to Warsaw, Poland in the early 1930s to help with a family business, so my stepmother grew up there.  She was not Jewish but, in bits and pieces, I learned about her involvement in WWII.  She recalled Jewish friends disappearing, the extreme shortages and rationing, and the fear of living in an occupied city.  She was a young woman at the time with an infant son living with her parents. Her first husband had left Poland to fly with the British Air Force.  They were reunited years later in the US.  While she was living in Warsaw, she worked for the Polish underground, carrying messages.  She said the German soldiers didn't suspect a woman with a small child.  When my daughter was in high school, my stepmom was invited to come and speak to her history class.  Since she wasn't driving at that point, I took her to Carroll High School and got to stay and hear her talk.  Imagine this frail but very sophisticated little lady standing up in a large auditorium style classroom, in front of a  combined class of junior and senior history students.  She spoke with and accent and I was concerned about how the students might react to her, but when she started talking there wasn't a sound from the kids. I think they sensed that this was someone who had lived what they had only read about.  She spoke for about a half hour and then invited questions.  One girl asked her how she felt when they were liberated.  Like the girl, I was expecting an answer about celebration and rejoicing but her answer has always stayed with me.  She said "You have to remember, we were liberated by the Russians. The Germans were at least civilized. (obviously not to the Jews, but that was her experience) The Russians were savages."  I learned later that she had been raped by a Russian soldier, had an abortion, and was helped to come back to the United States (she was a US citizen and it should have been easy, but there were lots of complications) by posing as the nurse of the doctor who had helped her.  I loved her as my stepmom and honor her as my hero.

What are you wearing?

 Today, according to one of many calendars available on line, is "Clashing Clothes Day" which is always celebrated on the 4th Thursday in January.  My west coast brother couldn't provide anything more interesting because he was busy installing a new transmitter, whatever that is.  I guess he does need to focus on work sometimes.  But about clashing clothes, I'm not sure why this is celebrated in January. If you're wearing wildly clashing clothes but have to bundle up in a coat, who will know?  Although, I must admit I do see some interesting outfits on my elevator rides.  On any given day, even in this weather, I might be riding in the elevator with a person wearing shorts and flip flops and someone else wearing plaid pajama pants with a message bearing top.  Often these people are hauling baskets of clothes to the laundry room which may explain their attire.  I get the impression that some of our younger tenants here (we do have a number of college students) wait until they are absolutely out of clothes before they realize it's time to do laundry. But back to clashing clothes, I can't think of anything that clashes more than bright red and bright green, so maybe everyone should bring out their ugly Christmas sweaters for one more wearing in January.  They certainly would go well with the snow we finally have.  And speaking of that, I had to drive to a couple of appointments today and I was really impressed with how well the main roads have been cleared off.  And speaking of that, one of my appointments today was to finalize plans for a trip, so now I am dreaming of sunny Italy in September, and I won't care at all if every tourist wears clashing clothes.

a perfect day

 This was a perfect day if you didn't need to go outside.  We did get six inches of snow, as predicted.  Lucky for me, I only had two meetings and both were by Zoom, an absolutely marvelous invention.  My west coast brother informed me earlier in the day that today is "Library Shelfie Day" and "National Irish Coffee Day."  I understand Irish coffee, yummy, but decided to double check on Shelfie Day.  It is always the fourth Wednesday in January and it's a day for book lovers to share their favorite books and library shelves in a fun way.  Once upon a time, when my husband and I were homeowners we had accumulated hundreds of books.  We had book cases in our bedroom, the children's bedrooms, the upstairs family room, the down stairs family room, the downstairs office, and black metal shelves in the basement garage for the overflow.  But now I have downsized.  While I was in the process of getting rid of books, Hyde Brothers Books on Wells Street (an amazing collection of used books) was my best friend.  I sold, the brothers bought, and I gradually got rid of many, many books.  Now I have only two book cases in my living room, one more in the dining room and a bed side table in my bedroom that holds a good supply of books.  A real comedown from our original collection.  But lucky for me I live less than a mile from our wonderful downtown library where I can check out an endless supply of books, without worrying about space to store them or needing to keep them dusted.  And, joy of joys, they are all free.  They have even, recently, done away with late fees.  So my favorite shelves are the ones at the library. As for favorite books, they are almost too numerous to count, but my all time very favorite is "A Town Like Alice" by Nevil Shute.  You can be sure, that one is still in my bookcase.

true story

 Once again I have written a memoir for my class tomorrow, and am lazily sharing it for this evening's blog.  Enjoy.

SOMEWHERE IN ILLINOIS

It was my turn to drive.  I was cruising along on the interstate, driving my friend’s bright red mustang, keeping up with the traffic flow, when she said to me “I hope you’re not speeding.  We just passed a police car at the side of the road, and I think it might be a speed trap.” She was right. As we came over the crest of the only hill for miles around in flat Illinois, we spied another police car at the side of the road and two energetic officers waving every car that came over that crest off the road.  Since we were from out of state, we, and many other drivers, were led in a procession to the nearest courthouse where we were processed through the system.  Eventually it was my turn before the judge.  I admitted my guilt (they had evidently clocked me at 80 miles a hour) and received a fine of $84.  In 1966, when my annual salary was $5,200, that was a lot of money.  We scraped together all the cash we had and had just enough to pay the fine and buy gas for the rest of the trip home.  My girlfriend/house mate and I had just finished our first year of teaching and celebrated with a driving vacation out west in her new car.  When I was stopped for speeding, we were close to the Indiana border on our way home from what had been a truly wonderful adventure, including a week at a dude ranch.  This wasn’t the joyous finale to our trip that we had anticipated but there was one humorous note. As I stood in line, waiting for my turn before the judge, I heard the man in front of me trying to convince the judge that he had not been speeding at all.  If anything, he had simply picked up speed on the down hill slope.  The judge wasn’t buying it, since our speeds were clocked at the bottom of the other side before we started up the hill.  I was laughing to myself because I recognized him as a driver who had zipped past me as we drove up that hill.  Eventually he gave up and paid his fine.

I wish I could say I learned my lesson and never received another speeding ticket but that’s another red car story for another time.

books, books, books

 My Ohio friend is a champion bibliophage.  Without even looking it up, you know it has something to do with books, right?  According to my page-a-day trivia calendar a bibliophage is someone who is devoted to reading, sometimes also know as a bookworm.  My Ohio friend is an extreme bibliophage.  I have traveled with her several times, and she always, always has a book with her, often a regency paperback that she reads on buses and planes and ships.  She carries a purse that's larger than my carry on luggage. I suspect it's so she has a back up book handy.  Of course part of the reason is so she can smuggle soft drinks into movie theaters.  Shhhh... don't tell.  I also, if I'm being honest, am at least a borderline bibliophage.  I love to read, always have.  I remember being warned by my mother, when I was a young teen, that "You can't read your life away." Don't worry Mom, I have managed to finish college, have a good marriage, two children and four careers so I haven't read my life away.  I will admit however that, if I have a really good book, I can easily read an afternoon away, especially a snowy cold afternoon.  I also like to read in bed at night before I go to sleep. Which reminds me, I am reading a really good book right now.  It's "The Venice Sketchbook" by Rhys Bowen.  Good night.

questionable....

 Today is "Answer Your Cat's Questions Day."  I was confused when my west coast brother texted me this information because, in my experience cats don't ask questions, they simply give quiet royal commands.  Now dogs will ask questions.  During my adult life I've shared my home with an assortment of cats and dogs.  Dogs will run to you when you walk in the door (regardless of how long you've been gone) asking "Where have you been?" Why did you leave me behind?" "Do you still love me?"  Cats on the other hand, if they deign to notice you've been gone at all, will stroll toward you, look you up and down, say "Oh, it's you." and "Feed me."  Don't get me wrong. I really like cats.  They can be loving and cuddly, but only on their own terms.  I once had two cats, females from the same litter, Clair and Frances, who came to live with me with my daughter and her two children when they moved home temporarily after her divorce.  Sometime later, when she remarried (much better choice the second time) and moved with her children into her new husband's home, the cats stayed behind.  Funny how that happens sometimes.  These two cats were very snuggly but only one at a time.  They were, however, very good about taking turns.  I would be sitting in my rocker with one cat on my lap, reading or watching TV, look down a little later, and it would be her sister on my lap.  Still a little later they would have swapped places again, but I never caught them at it.  This really worked out very well because I could pat a cat as long as I liked, but each of them could move on when they had had enough. Cats do like to set the limits when it comes to snuggling.  Dogs, of course, will sleep on your lap forever.  The bigger the dog, the longer the snuggle, or maybe it just seems that way.   

murder most foul

 A friend and I went to a murder mystery dinner this evening.  I didn't come close to guessing who the murderer was but we had a lot of fun.  Part of the preliminary instructions included telling each of us to wear a name tag with a fictitious name.  I was Lilly Luck and my friend was Chip Monk.  Between courses we were kept busy interviewing each other, collecting clues and generally, at least in my case, getting more and more confused.  We were also told, before the program, that one person at our table of eight was an actor/suspect.  I did not guess who was the actor at our table.  There were two people who were not with someone else. Their stories seemed plausible, but I figured one of them must be it.  It turned out that the pleasant looking sixty-something lady across the table from me was the murderer.  Her 'name' was Lucy Goosey.  She did an excellent job of playing the reluctant audience member until the very end.  I talked with her after the show and told her what a great job she did.  I also told her that my real name is Luci and that 'Lucy Goosey' has always been one of my least favorite phrases.  I dislike it intensely. I have a good friend named Susan who feels the same way about 'Lazy Susan.'  Still, offensive name aside, it was a good fun evening.

a job offer...

 I received two pieces of mail today.  One was a tax form (yes, it's that time of year) and the other was a job offer.  A brightly colored postcard offered me a new career as a "school custodial engineer."  The listed qualifications didn't seem too difficult. "Light maintenance experience (changing lightbulbs, filters, etc)."  Well, I can change a light bulb, and in the past I've changed furnace filters.  I read on. Next they wanted an "ability to work in a school environment."  Well, many years ago I was a junior high art teacher.  That should count.  Finally they wanted "excellent attendance" and "ability to work independently."  Ok, that sounds reasonable, so I checked the benefits.  Full time, first shift employees would earn $17.50 an hour while second shift custodians would only earn $15.  I'm guessing the custodians who worked while kids were present were getting extra as hazard pay.  They are also offering insurance and paid vacations.  Tempting, but after careful consideration I have decided to remain retired.  Don't get me wrong, I have a great deal of respect for school custodians.  My best friend's father was a school custodian and so were my own aunt and uncle.  As a brand new art teacher, fresh out of college, I quickly learned that the custodian was my best friend.  I remember one patiently explaining to me, as he disassembled the pipes under my scrub sink, that I should never, ever let the students wash plaster of Paris residue down the drain.  When you mix plaster of Paris with water in the right proportion and pour it into a half gallon milk carton it will harden into a lovely chunk of plaster that can be carved into an interesting sculpture by an enthusiastic seventh grader.  What I hadn't thought about was that after the students mixed their plaster/water blend, and waited for it to harden, they rinsed their hands off in the sink and all that plaster glop settled in the U bends of the sink pipes and hardened there at the same time it was hardening in the milk cartons.  The patient custodian told me firmly to always have them rinse their hands in a bucket of water which he would later dump outside, or, and he obviously thought this was a better solution, that I never, ever do this project again. 

on holding a grudge...

 I like to think of myself as a forgiving sort of person, not one to hold a grudge, but there is one grudge I have held for about 15 years.  It was early December and I was shopping for Christmas gifts for my four young grandchildren.  I decided to stop at Meijer's because they had some good sales going on.  My cart was heavily loaded as I pushed it up to the checkout counter.  The nice young clerk, who I'm sure was every bit as weary as I was (it was late in the day) suggested that if I applied for a Meijer's credit card I could save 10% on my purchases.  Since I had quite a few items, I realized that I could save a nice amount of money and I took her up on the deal.  I could always cut up the card later.  I gave her all the information she needed then was told that the next step was to go to the customer service counter to finish the process.  I wasn't thrilled, but pushed my heavy cart out of the checkout lane, across the store to Customer Service, where we completed the process and I was given a slip of paper with my new account number and the assurance that I could use my "card" today but the actual card would arrive in the mail.  So that seemed good and J headed back to check out, in another long line in a different lane with a different clerk. When it was finally my turn I handed the slip of paper to the clerk to make my payment and was informed that I could only charge $60 on my new card. That was company policy on a new card.  Let me state here that I was gainfully employed and had excellent credit.  At that point I was really tempted to leave my cart load of gifts and just walk out, but I didn't want to do all that shopping again so I pulled out another credit card to pay the balance, realizing that my big savings, for all this hassle, was six dollars.  I was steamed and vowed to myself that I would never shop at Meijer's again.  And I never have, until today.  I took a cousin to lunch today.  She's older than I am and doesn't drive any more.  She wanted to go to Bob Evans so we went to the one on Dupont Road, delicious as always.  As we were heading home she asked if we could stop at the new Meijer's on Dupont. We did, and the clerks were very pleasant and helpful so I behaved myself.  It's a huge store, and yes, I did buy a few items that I needed while my cousin shopped.  So, does this mean I'm not holding a grudge any more?  Not sure, but I guess shopping there once every 15 years won't kill me.   

things to remember...

 The memoir class went well today.  I read my essay and people laughed at all the right places, so that was encouraging.  As I listened to others reading their pieces (they were all very good) I got some ideas for my future efforts.  I could write about my first speeding ticket, my last speeding ticket, my roll over accident (I was not speeding then) the snake in my car (I'm sensing a car theme here), a girl named Just Normal, the books on my family book shelves, aroma memories, camping experiences, square dancing and dancing at our daughter's wedding.  That's as far as my list goes, but it makes me tired just contemplating it. So I shall have a cup of tea and go to bed.  I believe I mentioned in a recent blog that I am a master procrastinator.  Good Night.

 

Tomorrow our memoir class resumes after a holiday hiatus.  Since I needed to write a memoir, I decided to share it in my blog this evening.  Please excuse the laziness and enjoy.

A memoir about gullibility

Through the years, but especially when I was younger, I have been told that I am gullible.  In college my nickname was ‘naïve.’  In my defense, growing up in a small town (population 500) did leave my knowledge of the wide world somewhat limited.  But the incident I’m recalling today was a family moment so I can’t even blame it on my town.  I was the oldest sibling, my brother next in line was two years younger than me and delighted in teasing me.  When he was anxious for me to wake up and play one morning, he whispered in my ear “Luci, there are worms on your bed.”  He had gathered up a few earth worms from the garden and put them on my pillow.  Needless to say when I opened my eyes a little (I was trying to pretend I was still asleep) and saw what was on my pillow, I got up quite quickly.  My frequently repeated bleat of “Mom!!!” reverberated through the house once again.  But sometimes my brother’s tricks were pretty funny like the time he set the kitchen clock 20 minutes ahead so we could quit our early morning chore of weeding the strawberries.  My mother was a great believer in getting outdoor chores done ‘in the cool of the morning’ but only for an hour and then coming in for breakfast. No one notice the unauthorized time change until my father wondered aloud why the evening news wasn’t on at its usual time.  He was not amused.  But the incident that got the whole family laughing at me / with me happened on a bitterly cold winter Saturday.  My dad had decided that we needed more insulation in the attic of out old house and got my brother who was a strapping 11 year old at that point, to help him haul the rolls of insulation up the ladder and into the attic.  The only access to the attic was from an outside hatch above the back door.  While he was hauling insulation, I was helping my mother in the kitchen.  Beside the back door was our indoor/outdoor thermometer, the kind you can read from inside while the sensor is mounted outside.  We had all commented on the temperature that day which was hovering around 20 degrees.  My brother, outside on the ladder, innocently called to me “Luci, what’s the temperature?”  I glanced at the inside thermometer and said 20 degrees. No wait, it’s going up, it’s 35 degrees, 40?  50 degrees?”  It took me that long to realize that he was holding his hand against the outside sensor.  Everybody got a good laugh, even me.  Although I will admit that, just for a second there, I really thought spring was coming. 

In the news....

There were many memorial events today to celebrate MLK Day and rightly so.  There was also a deadly plane crash in Nepal and Gina Lollobrigida has died.  But the bit of news I found most interesting today was announced on DW news, one of my favorite news programs on PBS (9:30pm on 39.4 locally).  Like BBC it's an international broadcast with a US branch.  DW is from Germany and the news event first in their broadcast this evening was the fact that the defense minister of Germany has been ousted.  Evidently she has demonstrated her ineptitude several times in her year in office.  I suspect it was her bad luck to begin her term as defense minister just before Russia invaded Ukraine.  In peace time she might have had more time to learn about her job but not so this past year.  The two errors they mentioned on the news show were her inability to explain a weapon, explaining that it had a 'long tube thingy' (the English translation) and suggesting that they send helmets to the Ukraine forces rather than weapons.  As a mother I understand her concern but it wasn't really a very helpful suggestion.  Weapons and helmets would probably have been good.  Of course her title was "defense" minister.  

Mary who???

 On Friday I went to lunch at Zianno's with others who had attend a memorial service earlier that day.  It was a lovely dinner, delicious as always, but, in addition to all the usual catching up kinds of conversations, an interesting fact came up.  One of the people at my table said that when he arrived, a little earlier than the rest of us, he saw three pink Cadillacs in the parking lot.  He inquired inside and was told that the large group using the private dining room before us were Mary Kay sales people.  I was surprised.  I have not heard of Mary Kay for so long that I didn't know the company was still in business.  But, evidently, not only are they still in business but they still award pink cars as top sales prizes. There was a time in my life when I had a rather extensive collection of Mary Kay cosmetics but that was because my boyfriend at the time had decided to sell their products as his summer job.  I think this was after his sophomore year in college.  I don't think I was his only customer.  His mother and sister probably bought something, but he did not carry on with selling Mary Kay after that summer.  I can't make fun of him though.  He probably made more money than I did the summer I tried selling encyclopedias.  

sopranos and tenors...

 I went to the opera today, the Metropolitan Opera that is.  The Metropolitan in New York that is, and I attended in the easiest possible way.  A friend and I went to the Opera at the Coldwater Crossing movie theater.  Every six weeks or so the Met broadcasts an opera live to movie theaters all over the world.  Today it was "Fedora" an Italian opera (soap opera) that takes place in the late eighteen hundreds.  It involved a Russian princess, a French spy, a murdered lover, a variety of other characters and the longest dying scene I've ever seen.  The music was lovely and the singers were excellent.  But what made it even more fun was getting to watch the scene changes during intermissions (very detailed) and listening to interviews with several of the singers.  Add to that subtitles and comfy seats (Coldwater Crossing has those nice big recliners) and popcorn if you want it, and it's hard to imagine a better way to go to the opera.  In case you're wondering if I've ever been to a live opera in a real opera house, as a matter of fact I have.  Some years ago, on my first ever trip to Italy, my same opera-loving friend and I went to La Scala in Milan. It was amazing.  We had front row box seats and a view out over the whole house.  That was great, but the seats in that historic theater, at least in the front row of a box, were miserably uncomfortable.  I think they were made for little tiny people who didn't need any knee room.  I was excited by the fact that they had small translators on the railing in front of the seats.  I was looking forward to hearing the Italian (we were in Italy after all) and reading the translations, only to discover that the opera that evening was "The Rakes Progress" and it was sung in English.  It was good but...

another holiday...

 Today, and again my source for this is my west coast brother, is "Blame Someone Else Day."  This day is celebrated on the first Friday the 13th of each year which should make it one of my favorite holidays.  I was born on a 13, married on a 13 and had my first child on a 13, so it is my favorite number.  My second child was born on a 10th.  She just couldn't wait.  But I digress. This same west coast brother, who is ten years younger than me, was a master of blaming someone else when he was a child.  But, to give him due credit, he seldom got anyone else in trouble. His scapegoat was an imaginary friend named Rimrock.  I think Rimrock left us for good about the time my brother started school but for a few years there he could be depended on to be responsible for whatever situation my brother found himself in.  "Rimrock made me do it."  "Rimrock told me to do it." or "Rimrock did it." were frequent responses to "What happened?"  Don't get me wrong, my little brother was generally a very good child, but he didn't have any siblings close to his age to blame when things went wrong. so Rimrock was the next best thing.  As for me, my other brother and I were only two years apart in age so we always had each other to blame.  

family time...

 I do lots of texting with my grandchildren, all college age, but it's a rare treat to see them in person except for the holidays.  Today, however, was my lucky day.  I had lunch with my daughter's daughter before she heads back to college on Monday.  We ate Chinese at Wu's, yummy, and I got to see the cute little apartment that she shares with a friend when she is in Fort Wayne.  Then, this evening, my daughter's son, who does live here in FW, stopped by for a short visit.  He needed cheering up after helping people clean out an apartment here in my complex.  It's a sad situation and interestingly my granddaughter had told me about it earlier today.  A friend of my grandson's girlfriend, I think someone she worked with, died last week of an accidental overdose when he was home alone.  This evening my grandson was helping his parents clear out his apartment.  Such a hard, sad job.  I really can't imagine the grief, but loosing a child must be the worst kind of sorrow for any person, and then to have the child, regardless of age, die in such a senseless way, must compound the tragedy.  Hearing about this today did give me the chance to ask each of the grands if they were doing any kind of drugs and they reassured me, firmly, that they are not.  I believe them.  They have so much good and positive going on in their lives right now that I am happy to cheer them on. 

and speaking of fog...

 My daughter-in-law moved to Phoenix with her family when she was fifteen years old.  She is a teacher and when she and my son moved from Phoenix to Fort Wayne (when their children were toddlers and they wanted them to be able to play outside in the summertime) she got a teaching position with one of the local high schools.  She was absolutely delighted to discover, during that first autumn, that occasionally the schools had fog delays.  She hadn't really experienced fog since she was 15.  Tonight I was reminded of this when the weather person said that there is likely to be heavy fog tomorrow morning.  Thankfully I don't need to be out until noon.  I do find it fascinating to watch the fog from my balcony.  Sometimes it's so close that I can't see the trees across the river that runs beside my building, and sometimes it looks like a beautiful Japanese painting.  And it lifts so slowly.  About mid-morning I can look down and see that the fog is much lighter at street level.  As I've said many times I'm easily entertained.   

I'm fighting it...

 I think I'm suffering from STL.  Have you noticed how new diseases seem to come along, at least in TV ads, and they are all called by a series of initials?  Also every amazing new cure has a Q or an X in the name.  Do not listen to the scary possible side effects.  But back to my STL.  I blame it on the big R.  What you may ask is STL?  I'm so glad you asked.  STL is Sitting Too Long.  While it can happen in many situations, in my case the big R, my recliner, is to blame.  It is so easy, after a busy day and a good supper, to sink into my recliner, click on the TV, pull up a game on my tablet, or start to write this blog, and just stay there.  A friend of mine suggests stretching - getting down on the floor ever hour or so and stretching every part of my body.  A great idea except for the getting back up part.  Lucky for me there is a cure, or at least a reason to get up and move, INAS is my motivator and sometimes INTP.  I'll leave it to you to figure those out.  I'm sure you can if you're over 50.  

all grown up....

 Today my 20 year old granddaughter invited me to come see her apartment.  She moved into an apartment with a friend when she came back from college for the summer last June and has been saying ever since that she wants me to come see it when she gets it all fixed up.  She has been doing more work on it over Christmas break and says she is ready for me to see it now.  I'm excited.  She's the granddaughter who is studying art and design so she may have done some interesting decorating.  I was 20 when I moved into my first apartment. I was starting my first year of teaching and a friend who would be teaching nearby and I decided to share an apartment.  We started with a basement apartment in a private home.  That's when I discovered that I don't like basement living.  I am a little bit claustrophobic and it's always dark.  After a month I learned of a couple who were going to Florida for the winter and wanted to rent their house to a couple of responsible teachers.  We were thrilled and really enjoyed living in their nice two story house, so much better than a basement with people tromping around overhead.  Sadly, they liked Florida so much that they sold their house at the end of the year.  Lucky for us we found a cute little bungalow for the second year in that school system.  My granddaughter's apartment is in an apartment complex so no cute little house for her, but I'm sure it's very nice. I'll find out later this week, and, no matter what, I will love it.  

I know the answer to this one.

 Today's question on my page-a-day Trivia calendar is: "The Mount St. Helens volcano famously erupted in 1980.  Where is Mount St. Helens located?"  I knew the answer to this one right away.  In 1980 my west coast brother and his family were living in Washington State which is where Mount St. Helen's is located.  They didn't live near the volcano but the ash spread for miles.  In his excitement (this was a rare occurrence after all) my brother spread some newspaper on the front lawn, thinking he might accumulate a little ash to keep as a memento.  By the next morning there was something like a foot of ash all over his neighborhood.  I received a little bottle of MSH ash for Christmas that year.  Since my family is big on collecting rocks and stuff, I was thrilled.  But there was more to the story.  My father and step-mom had decided to fly from Indiana to Washington to visit my brother and his wife and their two young children.  As I recall, they arrived before the eruption but were stuck for several days after because planes couldn't fly.  Too much ash in the air.  It was a memorable time.  I don't think my dad ever flew anywhere again.

vocabulary lesson...

 Prepare yourselves.  I now have a 2023 Trivia calendar. So here is the question for the day - "What is someone with lilapsophobia afraid of?"  I guessed lilacs, although lilacs aren't very scary.  We did have a lilac bush at one house that was pretty monstrous, but that's a different story.  Maybe a fear of running laps?  I probably have that phobia.  I have avoided running laps for years.  But I was wrong on both counts.  Lilapsophobia is a fear of hurricanes and tornadoes.  A pretty common sense even useful phobia if you ask me, but not to be confused with astraphobia which is a fear of thunder and lightning.  So there you are, two really good words to toss into conversations.  You're welcome.  

more summer dreams...

 If you have sensed in my last few blogs that I am heartily tired of gray skies, you would be right.  However another jolt of sunshine burst into my life today.  Yesterday I wrote about a trip I hope to take in September or October. Today, my west coast brother texted me to tell me that they are planning to come visit me this summer, and (and this is the frosting on the cake) my nephew and his four children will also be coming.  These are some of my favorite people anywhere so I am thrilled.  My brother and sister-in-law will be coming from the west coast, of course, and my nephew and his children will be coming from their home on the east coast.  They think my place would be a good 'meet in the middle' place to get together, and I think so too.  Some years ago, when my nephew and his family were moving to the east coast, they broke up their cross country drive to visit with me for a while.  My youngest great-nephew was three or four at that time, but in his text today my brother told me that my great-nephew "really liked that lady who lives in a hotel."  I think it's interesting that that is how he remembers my 10th-floor apartment, and I am so pleased that he remembers me.  So glad to have this sunshine in my heart to enjoy during these gray months.  

travel dreams

 One of my travel buddies and I met with an AAA travel advisor today to look at European trip options.  I want to see Rome and Florence, two cities in Italy that I have not yet visited, and both of us want to go to Greece. I used to lecture in Art History many years ago and visiting sites full of amazing historical art and architecture is like visiting old friends.  We looked at cruise options.  I like these because you don't need to pack and unpack every day.  On the other hand bus tours allow you wonderful views of the country and possibly a longer time spent in each city on the tour.  My travel friend really likes the bus idea because she gets seasick and doesn't like to be drugged all the time.  We may have found a perfect compromise.  One of the Italian trips offers six days at a hotel in Tuscany with driving trips each day to visit several cities including Florence and Pisa.  This trip would start and end in Rome, then we could fly to Greece for three days.  Doesn't that sound lovely?  I think it sounds even better to me today because I envision it as being sunny.  I am so ready for sunshine.  As I drove around Fort Wayne today I saw gray cars, gray skies and gray streets.  The only bright spots of color were the traffic lights.  

don't judge

 Today is National Spaghetti Day and spaghetti happens to be one of my very favorite foods.  Partly because I love the flavor, especially when I make my own version but also because I like the texture.  I love those skinny little noodles and I like to twirl them on my fork. I had a college friend who had no sense of taste but had very strong likes and dislikes when it came to food.  When I asked her once how she knew what she liked when she couldn't taste anything, she said it was all about the texture.  Some food just felt better in her mouth.  Today I didn't have the ingredients or time to cook up a big pot of spaghetti (I do this occasionally and freeze individual portions) so I opted for a bowl of Raman noodles.  Don't sneer, I like Raman noodles and their texture is similar to spaghetti.  I only add one cup of water to my Raman so it's thick, not soupy.  I also add whatever I have handy.  This evening it was chopped cooked chicken and some frozen broccoli.  It was quick, easy and quite tasty.  Cooking for one has definite advantages.  

Yawn....

 My west coast brother and his cat have informed me that today is Festival of Sleep Day.  I find this an easy day to celebrate since these gray cloudy days inspire me to nap.  I suspect that I was either a cat or a Mexican in a former life, since each of these groups, like me, are great believers in afternoon naps.  Of course cats also believe in morning, noon, late afternoon and evening naps, but whose counting?  I have a friend who claims that she meditates but she doesn't nap.  That may be, but I find when I try meditating it pretty quickly becomes a nap.  But I'm a controlled napper; 20 minutes each afternoon is all I need to perk me up and keep me going.  Of course the better the context, the better the nap.  A nap in my recliner is far superior to a nap while standing in the checkout line at the grocery store.  

A potpourri...

 I learned from a high school classmate who became a math teacher (no one expected that) that 2023 is not a prime number.  I'm sure you were wondering about that.  He also informed me that TRUST is the word for this year.  I didn't know that  years have words but trust is a good one.  It's also possibly a good Wordle word.  I may use it tomorrow.  My west coast brother informs me that today is Happy Mew Year for Cats, also Buffet Day, Swiss Cheese Day and Cream Puff Day. I'm not sure why Swiss cheese gets to go first but I like it so that's ok.  Also, and this one really hit home with me, it is World Introvert Day.  I am so comfortable with that.  But, amid all these things to celebrate as 2023 begins, I realized that for me, personally, there is one more really good thing.  Over the last few years I have transitioned almost totally from paying bills, etc. with checks to paying everything electronically.  The big benefit I see here is that I will not be tearing up checks that I have misdated. It had become a January tradition.  And finally, my sympathy to all my Purdue football fan friends.  

one more thing

 PS today is Polar Bear Plunge Day.  150 people took the plunge in the St. Joe River.  I was NOT one of them.  This is on my 'never ever list' right under sky diving and bungee jumping. 

makes sense to me...

 A computer expert / financial advisor was giving advice on a news show the other morning.  One thing he commented on caught my attention.  It had to do with keeping passwords secure.  I know you've all heard the advice about not using the same password for all your accounts and the admonition to change your passwords frequently.  I don't know about you but I don't even try to memorize all of my passwords.  I write them down.  The expert said that he used to laugh at his mother for writing down her passwords in a little notebook, but the more he thought about it, the more he realized that passwords written down on paper, left somewhere in your home were probably much more secure than passwords entered on your phone or tablet or any other devise you carry around with you.  And the chance of someone breaking into your house and finding your list is far less likely than the chance of someone hacking your computer or phone and getting the information.  That makes a lot of sense to me.  Now if I can just remember where I put my list.