look up...

 My west coast brother informs me that today is "International Asteroid Day" and "National Meteor Day."  He questioned why asteroids get an international day while meteors only get nation recognition.  I think I've figured out the reason.

A meteor is seen as a streak of light that flashes across the night sky.  It's caused by a small piece of space debris called a meteoroid burning up as it enters earth's atmosphere.  An asteroid, on the other hand, is a relatively small rocky celestial body that orbits the sun.  They are sometimes considered minor planets or planetoids. 

I'm pretty sure that they were allocated their different statuses because if a bit of a meteor happened to fall into your back yard, you might get a little press interest, maybe even a mention on the evening national news, whereas, if an asteroid lands in your back yard it will have an international impact of global proportions.  

So the next time you're watching a meteor shower be glad it's not an asteroid shower.

arms open wide...

 Today, according to my west coast brother, is "Hug Holiday Day."  Of course I did a little research on this and found this statement "It is known that hugging is good for you.  It releases oxytocin, known as the 'cuddle hormone' which can help to strengthen social bonds." From hugging babies to hugging siblings to hugging spouses to hugging friends, it can be a very satisfying experience.  

I come from a family of natural huggers.  My mother was an excellent hugger and my daughter has inherited that gene from her.  When my daughter hugs me it feels like my mother's hug which is weirdly wonderful.  

I do need to be careful though.  Not everyone appreciates being hugged.  I have one granddaughter who refuses to be hugged while her sister and her cousins are eager huggers.  

Since I married my spouse a year and a half ago, I have discovered that he and most of his extended family are good and willing huggers. Yay!

Hugging of course is not just limited to family.  I remember a funny episode a few years ago.  We were walking out of a Christmas Eve service at church when a young man, for whom I had been a mentor when he was younger, gave me a big hug when he saw me.  One of my granddaughters was with me, and she was quite astonished that this cute young man had given me a hug.  That's one of the really nice things about hugging, there are no age limits. 

So don't just sit there reading this. Get up and hug someone.  You'll be glad you did.

celebrate..

 According to my west coast brother today is "Celebrate Your Marriage Day."  It's also "National Tapioca Day" but I prefer not to dwell on that.  When I was a child my father once referred to tapioca pudding as 'snake eyes' and that has pretty much ruined it for me ever since.  

It's also "Great American Picnic Day" which would have been fun to celebrate except it was just too hot.  90+ degrees with high humidity is not picnic weather for me.  I know, I know, air conditioning has spoiled me in my old age.  

However, my spouse and I did manage to celebrate our marriage in our own inimitable way.  We had no particular 'must do' items on our list for today so we puzzled, we read, we ate chocolates and we played a game of Scrabble.  He won, but there's always next time.  A little healthy competition keeps a marriage worth celebrating. 

Summer snacking...

 Today, on his way home from donating blood, my wonder spouse stopped at Zesto's and had a butterscotch yogurt malt.  He only did this, he assured me, because the nice Red Cross nurse told him he should get a treat on the way home.  I guess he gave really good blood.

This desire for cold sweet treats is symptomatic of the time of year.  The fact that we're in the middle of a heat wave probably helps too.  On Wednesday we ate lunch at the Lunch Box Cafe and ordered mint chocolate chip ice cream for dessert.  It was delicious.  As a general rule, we never even order desserts in restaurants.  

And this is not just regional.  My west coast brother told me that today is "National Ice Cream Cake Day" and my husband's oldest son and family are world travelers, and pictures they post frequently include delicious looking sweet treats.  

So take a minute right now to decide what is your very favorite ice cream or sherbet.  Then think of the country where you had this treat and start planning your next trip.  My very favorite is Italian Lemon Ice.  I could buy a ticket to Florence, or I could just go to Kroger's, a much shorter trip, and buy some Luigi's Real Italian Ice (lemon flavor of course). 

Sweet sweets dreams, everyone.

Adulting....

 My spouse and I are taking real pleasure watching our grandchildren as their lives beyond childhood unfold.  This year has included one high school graduation, one BA graduation, and one MS graduation.

This evening we learned about a whole new success story.  My grandson, now 24, did not go to college, but he has worked hard at a variety of jobs since high school and succeeded at each of them, usually becoming an assistant manager.  Along the way, he has become engaged, they have bought a house together, and they have a cat. We took them to dinner this evening, then got to see their house (very nice), meet their cat, and learned about my grandson's new job.

I think this new job suits him very well.  He is working for a company called Terex.  They make cement mixers.  He works on the line attaching axels to frames and other parts of the construction process.  Did you know that a cement mixer can have four to seven axels?   Cement mixers don't roll off the line like cars.  There's lots of hands on work involved.  He has always liked to put things together so this job seems like a great fit.  

He is doing a good job of adulting, without a college education, and I'm so proud of him.

that was easy

 I do appreciate friendly efficiency as I think we all do.  Today I got to enjoy a shining example.  I was scheduled for a CT scan (just prepping for an annual follow up appointment with one of my doctors) at our local hospital.  The directions, which were sent to me by email, text and my chart, told me that I should arrive at 12:30pm for my 1:45pm appointment.  I knew I would get an injection of dye and assumed that was why I needed to be there so early.  My spouse drove me to the appointment because we planned to go to lunch after and we arrived at 12:25pm.  Assuming there would be wait time involved, we had each brought a book to read.  I was checked in by 12:26pm and at 12:28pm they called my name.  

The friendly nurse / technologist walked me back to a room where  a machine was ready and waiting.  No need to take off shoes or clothes, just lie down and put my arms up and back over my head.  I was given a saline injection and then the dye; in less than a minute it had flowed through my whole body, an interesting feeling. Then I just relaxed as I was moved back and forth, in and out of the machine.  A mystery voice gave instructions - "breathe in, breathe out, don't breathe, breathe."  This was repeated several times, and then we were all done.  Ten minutes, start to finish.  My spouse was astonished, as was I.  

Next month I will meet with the doctor who ordered the test.  It will be interesting to compare the timing of that appointment to this one.  

good eating...

 My west coast brother informed me that today is "Creamy Pralines Day."  I've had pralines; a long ago high school boyfriend (my first 'true love') went off to Tulane University in New Orleans after high school graduation and gave me a box of pralines when he came home for Christmas.  I don't remember them being creamy but they were sugary and delicious. 

Coincidentally, while thinking about this sweet treat, I discovered an article in the July issue of Reader's Digest about the favorite comfort foods of all 50 states.  The sweet treats considered comfort food include ice cream in California, Peach Cobbler in Georgia, Cinnamon Rolls in Iowa, Kuchen in South Dakota and Dutch Baby Pancakes in Washington.  I will have to ask my west coast brother about that last one.  

Those are the states that think comfort food should be sweet.  Not all states agree.  Evidently here in Indiana our idea of comfort food is a Breaded Pork Tenderloin Sandwich.  It appears that mid-westerners aren't too crazy about sweets.  If you go east to Ohio for your comfort it will be Cincinnati Chili, west to Illinois you'll find Deep-Dish Pizza, north to Michigan Coney Dogs, South to Kentucky spoon bread.  

Obviously reading about all these foods made me think about my favorite comfort foods.  High on my list would be stuffed shells from Ziano's, or just about any pasta with good Alfredo sauce and fideo soup and nachos from El Azteca.  (Must be my German heritage.) For dessert I'll take a molasses cookie or apple bread or anything chocolate.  Happy feasting everyone.  Here's wishing you all your favorite comfort foods, but not all at once. 

Let's face it...

 Addictions happen in the best of families and I fear that my wonder spouse and I have joined the ranks of the helplessly ensnared.  Not by anything as sinister as drugs or alcohol or cigarettes but by that dreaded but seemingly so innocent simple child's toy - the jigsaw puzzle.  

After successfully completing a positively pleasant 500 piece puzzle (they always suck you in in small steps) a couple of months ago, we decided to try our hands at a 2000 piece puzzle, simply because it was the only other one we had in the house.

Little did we know that this particular puzzle is one of the nastiest ones ever created with tiny pieces that must fit absolutely precisely, and great swaths of sky and snow in almost identical colors.  At this point we think, hopefully, that we are more than half way done.  

I realized that I was truly addicted when, while working on this puzzle, I caught myself thinking about what features I want in the next puzzle I do.  The next puzzle????  This is the kind of addiction that could drive a person to drink. 

 This is the fiendish puzzle in question, an innocent Christmas scene.  You're welcome to borrow it when we're finished.

pucker up...

 With the help of my west coast brother and some digging of my own, I have learned that today is "National Onion Rings Day."  It's also "Kissing Day."

Just a word of advice here.  Always share your onion rings with your significant other.  That way, when you come to the kissing part of the day, neither of you will be offended by the other's onion breath.

Or, alternatively, we could also declare this "National Mouthwash Day."  I'm not sure how to go about getting this added to the list of special days but it might be worth a try.  It does seem to me that if we are going to be spending the day eating onion rings and kissing (both of which activities I thoroughly enjoy) taking time out to swish a little mouthwash might be a good idea.  

I did a little research just now and discovered that what I need to do is submit my national day idea to "National Day Calendar" with a compelling reason for it's creation.  I'm pretty sure I've given the compelling reason above. Would anyone care to sign my petition?

Yard work...

 This morning about 8:00am my wonder spouse woke up (I was already half awake) and said that we should go outside while it was still cool and trim the bushes all around the house.  He reminded me of my mother who was a big believer in getting gardening done "in the cool of the morning."

This urge to trim bushes was probably my fault because a week or so ago I had mentioned that the bush visible from one of our breakfast nook windows was getting pretty ragged looking and needed trimming.  I even went so far as to say that if he trimmed the bush (singular) I would rake up the leaves and branches that he lopped off.  Silly me, I assumed that this was one of those jobs that he routinely hired someone to do, like mowing the lawn and shoveling the snow.  

Not so.  He pulled out the power trimmer and the long orange extension cord, showed me where the rakes were hanging, told me to put all the debris I raked up in the big garbage bin, and got to work.  It was cool, 74 degrees, and shady when we started work.  We worked diligently for over two hours, admired our finished product, then went in to clean up and have our breakfast.  

By the happiest of coincidences, just as we were enjoying our coffee, the man who does mow our lawn showed up.  By the time he had finished mowing, any bits of debris I might have left behind were chewed up and sucked up by the mower.  

It all looks very nice now, and I'm glad we did it, but in the future I'm going to think very carefully before I suggest any other home improvement projects.  

a yarn about yarn....

I am neither a knitter or a crocheter although I have friends who excel in these arts.  My fingers just don't seem to work that way.  I am, however, a weaver.  In college I used large four harness looms and wove yards and yards of various materials including a 4' by 8' tapestry that was part of my master's thesis.

These days my weaving is more modest.  I use a lap loom from New Zealand and create pieces that measure 15 inches across or narrower and up to six feet long.  After I weave these pieces, I use them as background and stitch designs on the fabric.  Not nearly as ambitious as my college work but I do enjoy it very much.

Recently my spouse, who is great about helping me string my loom, suggested that I should create a piece about the two of us, and our travels, to be hung in our living room.

I think this is a great idea, but as I started thinking about it, I realized that my favorite source of yarn, Joann's, is now out of business in our area.  A Google search suggested that a nearby Walmart super store had yarn for sale.  I was skeptical but took a drive out there today to check it out.  

To my delight they had a large selection of colors in the yarn I like to use, so I stocked up.  Now all I have to do is design the project, string the loom (with my wonder spouse's help) and get to work.  

Here are two recent works, a pastor's stole and a long narrow hanging for the window beside the front door in my grandson's house. 

Happily, my grandchildren like my work and have taken several pieces, otherwise I would have run out of wall space long ago. 

book review

 When I was a child I discovered the "Little House" series of books and became delighted with the idea that I could read more than one book about the same characters.  

These days I feel the same delight when I follow the adventures of various characters through more than one book.  One of my very favorite authors is Rhys Bowen.  She is, in my opinion, an historian as well as an author and some of her books are extremely well researched novels based on true events during WWII.

However, I must admit that my favorites are two of her most famous series, the "Molly Murphy" series and the "Royal Spyness" series.  I think it's best to start at the beginning of any series so I recommend "Her Royal Spyness" set in England in the early 1930s and "Murphy's Law" set in New York City in 1900.  Of course these are all available through your local library.  Happy reading everyone.

read on..

 I love the public library, most particularly the ACPL (Allen County Public Library.)  It has many wonderful features which I have written about in previous blogs, but today I discovered a brand new feature.

I picked up three books today that were on hold for me.  I had requested them on Monday so I was very pleased with the turn around time.  

I usually ask for paper print outs of my check out information, just out of habit, (they do make handy bookmarks) but I seldom look at them closely.

Today however, I took time to read the fine print and it said  "You just saved $30.99 by using your library.  You have saved $649.61 this past year and $1,822.33 since you began using the library!"  

Since I've been using this same county library system since I was about eight years old, I suspect that the total saved is actually quite a bit more, but I'm sure they don't have personal records that far back. It's just too bulky to keep all those stone tablets.

healthy eating???

 Today, according to my west coast brother is "National Eat Your Vegetables Day."  It's also "National Apple Strudel Day" and "National Cherry Tart Day."  I guess they figure that if you eat your vegetables like a good boy or girl you've earned dessert.  Since we had my wonder spouse's super salad this evening we have certainly eaten our veggies.

This reminds me of a discussion I got into with a friend recently.  She told me that when she was a child she had to eat all of her food (clean off her plate) before she could leave the table.  She used to put her veggies, especially peas in the little ledge under the table top, then sneak back later, clean them out and throw them away.  

I can remember my mother telling us to clean off out plates because of the poor starving Armenians, but she never forced the issue.  I had two brothers who grew up to be six feet six inches tall.  Needless to say they had hearty appetites.  My mother was a very good cook so we ate well and cleaning off our plates was seldom an issue.  A typical supper would consist of two pieces of meat (two pork chops, two pieces of chicken, etc.), potatoes and another vegetable, and usually carrots and celery and some kind of dessert. She never forced us to eat everything on our plate but her hard and fast rule was at least take one bite,  Don't say you don't like something without trying it. The other (unspoken) rule was no substitutions.  Eat what's put before you or don't eat it, but don't expect me to give you something else. PB &J sandwiches were great for lunch but not a substitute for supper.

When my children were young we were at my mother-in-law's house for dinner and one of them made a face when they saw the chili grandma had prepared.  Right away she jumped up and said she would get them something else.  I said "No" and surprise, surprise, they ate the chili and liked it.  She did make very good chili.  Of course I have no idea what grandma did when I wasn't around.  Since this was the same grandma who fed our dogs scrambled eggs when she took care of them, I'm guessing some spoiling went on, but everybody knows that's what grandmas are for.

here kitty, kitty...

 My west coast brother informed me that today is "Take Your Cat to Work Day" after which I asked him if he was taking Ace, his beloved feline friend, to work.  His exact response was "I'm putting that on the list of things that ain't happening."

I think this is unfortunate because Ace could have stirred up lots of excitement at the TV station where my west coast brother works.

I read an interesting comment concerning cats recently, it said "There's a reason why there are no obedience classes for cats."  So true.  I know from personal experience that cats will not come when they are called, unless of course you are opening a can of cat food at the same time.  If you have company, cats will instinctively go to the one person who doesn't like cats.

If you have been away from home for anything over ten minutes you pet dog will rush to the door to greet you, lavishing you with kisses and wagging his tail at warp speed.  

On the other hand, if you've been gone on a three-week vacation (assuming a neighbor girl came every day to feed the cats and clean their litter box) one or more of your cats may come strolling out when they hear the door open, give you an 'oh, it's only you' look and stroll away again.  

There's a famous old saying "Your dog thinks you're god, your cat knows she is."  There's a reason why Egyptians worshipped cats.

Fathers' Day kudos...

 Happy Fathers' Day to all of you who have fathers, are fathers, or have happy memories of your fathers.  A good father is a lasting blessing. 

We have had good Father's Day fun.  My spouse's youngest son and family picked up dinner from Salvatore's and brought it to us, and we had a lovely evening together.

Earlier in the evening my spouse and I helped to serve supper at the rescue mission.  This made me really appreciate all the good fathers in my life even more.  

My spouse's oldest son and wife, who live some distance away, sent us their traditional package of Omaha Steaks, so delicious.  This year I want to say kudos to the Omaha Steak people because of their new packaging.  

Instead of the traditional styrofoam  container, this year their packaging was completely recyclable.  The outer box was cardboard, lined with a recyclable insulating inner layer.  Instead of dry ice, there were cold packs in biodegradable bags.  The material for the cold packs was just as cold and effective as dry ice, but, the directions said, when you let the bags thaw the liquid content can be used as plant food.  Better and better.  The whole thing was like the gift that keeps on giving.  

A great Father's Day all around, and I think my wonder spouse enjoyed it too. 

Salute

 I had mixed feelings about the parade that was planned for today.  I guess, deep down, I don't think we need to be showing off our military might.  But, I thought it only fair to watch it if I was going criticize it.  

I was pleasantly surprised.  While President Trump was wished a happy birthday and there was some speech making (very minimal) the whole event was truly a salute to the US Army which is 250 years old this year.  It was formed on June 14, 1775, a year before we became a nation. Without that first army we wouldn't be a nation.   Interesting side note - June 14 wasn't designated as Flag Day until 1949. I thought it appropriate that this parade was on Flag Day not July 4.  We'll save that big celebration for next year when our country turns 250 years old. 

The parade involved historic reenactors in uniforms of US Army soldiers from historic times to the present.  There was lots of good patriotic music (especially at the end with the fireworks) which I love.

As I watched the whole event I was proud to think of the people in my family who have served in the army, starting with good old Phillip Von Steinmetz who (the family story goes) had to escape Germany after killing the king's deer.  He got here just in time for the American Revolution, survived it, married and fathered ten children.  I thought I would throw that in since tomorrow is Father's Day. 

Other members of my family who have served in the Army (or Air Force, which was originally part of the Army) include my father, my first husband, my daughter, my son-in-law, my older brother, my west coast brother, my first father-in-law and my brother-in-law. I salute them all.

gone fishin'...

 Actually we haven't been fishing but we did see a play this evening called "Big Fish" at Arena dinner theater.  Based on a novel and a movie, it was, in my opinion, a weird play.  At least the first half.  It was a musical and the singers and dancers did a fine job but I found the story line hard to follow.  It seemed to bounce from fact to fiction with amazing rapidity. 

Add to that the fact that the theater was very cold (they were passing out blankets at intermission) and I was seriously thinking about leaving when the first act ended.  

But I'm so glad I stayed.  The second half was beautifully done, extremely moving, and brought all the story lines together.  I do recommend that you see the play.

Tonight was opening night so there may have been some opening night jitters involved in the first half.  

As an added bonus, we were excited to see our granddaughter's name in the program as part of the production team.  

 Today is "Ghost in the Machine Day."  Thank you west coast brother. The name comes from a 1993 horror/sci-fi movie of that title.  While the idea of Cartesian Dualism (ghost being the mind, machine being the body - separate but complimentary necessities) is interesting, it's not what I think of when I think of ghosts in machines.  

To me the 'being' who frequently messes with the reception on our family room TV (while the other TVs work just fine) counts as a ghost.  The alarm clock that I used to keep in my bathroom was certainly haunted when it started sounding off at midnight, even though I had never set the alarm, and checked frequently to be sure it was turned off.  After a couple of nights of this I unplugged it and threw it in a drawer.  That fixed that ghost.  

And then there is our cuckoo clock.  It's a fine clock that sounds off on the hour and half hour, as long as it is wound regularly.  But what I find interesting is its variety of messages.  Sometimes it says 'cuckoo, cuckoo' but other time it sounds like 'uh oh, uh oh' and yet again there are times when it sounds like 'oh no, oh no.'  'You who, you who' is another frequent message.  These mixed messages are most noticeable at midnight and 6:00am.  If that's not a ghost in a machine, I don't know what is.  

I bet if you think about it, you can come up with at least three ghost haunted machines in your house.

He's back..

 My west coast brother is home from vacation and thus able to resume his role as 'Provider of Special Day Information.'  Happily, he plans to retire in August which will give him even more time for 'special day' research.  

Meanwhile, here are his offerings for today.  Today is "Corn on the Cob Day" and "German Chocolate Cake Day."  Sounds like the makings of a great meal doesn't it?

We do love corn on the cob although it's too early in the season for our favorite source here, the Amish grocery store.  But when the time comes we will gleefully indulge in sweet tender corn, perfectly cooked (my wonder spouse is an expert), slathered with butter and lightly sprinkled with salt and pepper.  Are you drooling yet?

We don't have any German Chocolate cake or any other cake in the house right now, but in July we will be celebrating five family birthdays so cakes are definitely in our future. Sounds great doesn't it? 

In case you're concerned about our food choices, don't worry.  I'm pretty sure veggies and cake are part of the new food pyramid.

One more...

 I know I said that I was finished blogging about teachers but then I started thinking about Mrs. Davis.  I learned a lot from Mrs. Davis.  She was my high school math teacher and took me through Algebra, Geometry, Solid Geometry and Trigonometry.  She was a good teacher and I seriously considered becoming a math teacher.  But the things I remember most vividly about Mrs. Davis are silly little details.

1. She was in her 50s and her hair was greying in back first, sort of a skunk look.

2. She lived on Euclid Avenue, which seemed appropriate.

3. She drove with one foot on the break and one foot on the gas.  I learned this when she drove another classmate and myself to IU in Bloomington for a state math competition.

4. She was a big fan of James Whitcomb Riley and took us to visit his home on the drive back from IU. 

5.  When she wrote on the black board, wearing short sleeved dresses, her underarm skin wobbled excessively.  This made me swear to myself that I would never wear short sleeved shirts when I taught and I never did.  

6.  When I was a Senior my middle brother (not the west coast one) started his freshman year at Woodlan High School.  On the first day of school I walked into an afternoon math class and Mrs. Davis said to me in kind of a shaky voice "That Smith* boy, that Smith* boy, he's not related to you, is he?" When I admitted that he was my brother, she just shook her head and walked away.  I knew it was going to be a long year and I was right.  The phrase "John Smith* come to the principal's office!" echoed through the hallowed halls at least once a week.  Mrs. Davis saw it coming.

*Name changed to protect me and my west coast brother.

teachers, part 4

 This is my final blog about teachers.  There have been so many great ones in my life that I can't write about all of them, bur here are my last three - all high school teachers:

Mrs. Wetter, my English and French teacher was also the school librarian.  I was allowed to spend many blissful study hall hours in the library "assisting" her.  I did put books back on the shelves in their correct places but I also had plenty of time to find fascinating books to read.  The book I remember best, possibly my favorite of all times, is "A Town Like Alice" by Neville Shute.  It was originally published in the US with the title "The Legacy."  If you have never read it, you really should.  I have a copy you can borrow.

Mr. Dupont, the art teacher for all twelve grades in our school system.  In my senior year I chose to take art instead of physics because the physics teacher had been my chemistry teacher the year before and he was terrible.  When Mr. Dupont discovered that I really loved art and wasn't just there for an easy option, he arranged for me to shadow him in some of his elementary classes.  That's when I realized that I didn't want to teach English or math (those had been the fields I had been trying to decide between) I wanted to teach art.  I did graduate from college with an art special degree, qualifying me to teach art in all 12 grades.  Thank you Mr. Dupont.

Then there was Mr. Briegel.  When I look at his picture in the yearbook he looks very young, but, of course, at the time, we thought he was old.  He was our history, social studies and government teacher, and made the subjects very interesting.  In his youth he had polio so he wore braces on both legs and walked with crutches.  This did not, in any way, limit his ability to control a classroom. However, during my senior year, some of my less mature classmates (boys of course) tried to play a nasty trick on him.  They put a tack on his chair, knowing he couldn't stand up quickly. In my defense, I didn't know anything about this until the next day.  He came in to the classroom, sat down on the tack and proceeded to teach the class as always.  The next day he told us that he had discovered the tack stuck in one of the wooden pieces of his brace when he took his pants off that night.  The boys were disappointed that their trick hadn't worked but Mr. Briegel thought it was pretty funny. 

teachers, part 3

 Mr. W. F. C. Zimmerscheidt was a true Renaissance man.  Not only did he teach the seventh and eighth grades at Woodburn Lutheran School for many years, he was also the school principal, church organist, choir director, Sunday school teacher for adult classes and youth group organizer.  He was Zimmy to his friends, and to his students (but only behind his back). 

In his class we sang hymns, patriotic songs and state songs.  "The Old Oaken Bucket" and "Back Home Again in Indiana" were favorites while "Onward Christian Soldiers" was a great one for marching around the room.  He also taught us art.  Drawing was encouraged.  I first learned about perspective from him.  Of course we had all the basics plus two years of "Luther's Small Catechism."  When we got into eighth grade, just when I was so sick of long division and long multiplication that I thought I would scream, he introduced us to Algebra.  Suddenly math was so much fun.  

When I look back on my years at Woodburn Lutheran School, I appreciate what a good basic education we received.  It may sound simplistic but I do believe that daily memorization assignments, hymns and Bible verses, were an important part of that education.  

teachers, part 2

 As I said in yesterday's blog, I will explain what made so many of my teachers memorable over the next few blogs.

This evening we'll look at Miss Wellington, Mr. Sherman and Mr. Bergdolt.

Miss Wellington was memorable because, during the year I was in her kindergarten class at Zion Lutheran in Fort Wayne (with the marvelous sand table which I have blogged about before) she got married and we students were all invited to the wedding. 

In second grade we lived in New Haven and I had a lovely teacher at New Haven Lutheran whose name I don't remember.  I thought she was beautiful because she had snowy white hair, blue eyes, pink cheeks and a beaming smile.  A perfect second grade teacher.

In third grade my family and I moved to an old house in the country on five acres near Woodburn, my father's home town.  There I attended Woodburn Lutheran School.  It was a small school with two classes to each teacher.  Mr. Sherman was our 3rd and 4th grade teacher.  Not a nice man. He paddled one of my classmates one day with a heavy wooden paddle.  He was interesting though, not because of anything I remember learning in his class but because he had a very prominent Adam's apple.  Think Ichabod Crane and you'll have a good idea of his appearance.  I used to sit entranced as I watched that Adam's apple bob up and down. The faster he talked or the more agitated he became the faster it bobbed.  He probably thought I was paying close attention to whatever he was saying.  

On the positive side, he did read to us every afternoon right after lunch. It was a quiet half hour when we could color quietly while we listened to the book.  That was my favorite part of the day.

By the time Mr. Bergdolt came on the scene our little Woodburn Lutheran School had merged with Bull Rapids Lutheran School, and our fifth and sixth grade classes were held at Bull Rapids School which was out in the country.  Mr. Bergdolt was a nature lover and each spring he took us on several walks through the woods across the road from the school.  He taught us about flowers, like Dutchman's Breeches and Spring Beauties and ferns and mushrooms and kinds of trees and birds and other marvelous things.  I loved those walks.

Teacher, teacher....

 I read an article today about a college professor who willed her life savings to 31 favorite students when she died.  One received $100,000 and another $26,000.  Her total estate was worth 2.8 million.  Which seems to imply that each of those 31 students got a pretty hefty chunk of change.

Now, I have never had a teacher give me a hundred thousand dollars, but I have had teachers who have had a major impact on my life.  

My mother was the first, and while she was never actually my teacher, she was an amazing teacher.  Over the years since she died many of her former students have told me that she was their favorite teacher.  When I was in my first year of teaching I asked her what the secret was to her success as a teacher.  Her answer "I find something to love about every student."

As I'm writing this, a long list of memorable teachers I have had come to mind: Miss Wellington, kindergarten; Mr. Sherman, 3rd and 4th grade. Mr. Bergdolt, 5th and 6th grade; Mr. Zimmerscheidt, 7th and 8th grade, Mrs. Wetter, high school English and French; Mr. Dupont, high school art; Mrs. Davis, high school math; Mr. Briegel, high school social studies.

I'll leave the list there for now, although there were also many memorable college professors. Over the next several blogs I will share the stories of some of these teachers.

To be continued....

a challenge...

 My wonder spouse and I had a great idea this evening.  As you may remember, my spouse and I are currently spending many of our evenings working on a 2000 piece jigsaw puzzle.  Progress is slow. It's a nasty puzzle with many tiny pieces that do almost but not quite fit together.

I remember a TV episode from years ago where Edith Bunker is carefully trimming puzzle pieces to make them fit.  I am very tempted to have my scissors handy tomorrow evening.

On July 12 we're having an afternoon open house to celebrate several family birthdays, and we have decided to offer the puzzle opportunity to anyone who is interested.  We could even offer prizes for most pieces assembled.  Pretty sure our grandchildren would accept cash.

birds of a feather

 My spouse and I just finished watching a fascinating documentary about humming birds and that got me thinking about birds I have known.  Currently we have some regulars visiting our bird feeders every day - Mr. and Mrs. House Finch and one big Blue Jay are our most faithful, but from time to time a variety of sparrows pop in to see what we have to offer.  We have an excellent view of them from our breakfast nook. 

Many, many years ago, when I was just a child, my mother had a pet parakeet (bright green but not very talkative).  I don't know anyone who has parakeets now but I think they were popular in the 50s.  Needless to say we did not have any house cats at that time.  

Our most memorable bird encounters happened when we lived on our rural three acres in southeastern Ohio. There was a large tree across the road that ran in front of our house that attracted starlings.  They would come by droves in the morning and evening and sit in that tree complaining loudly about their rough lives.  These were not brilliant birds.  Approximately once every two weeks one would find its way under the mesh cap on our fireplace chimney and fall down the chimney.  Since the damper was always closed unless we actually had a fire going, they were trapped.  They couldn't spread their wings enough to fly up and out.  My first husband, a wonder spouse in his own right, invented a birdie elevator by twisting two wire coat hangers together and tying a rope to the hooks.  When a bird fell down the chimney (we could always hear them flapping around) he would climb onto the roof over the family room, which was easily accessible from our bedroom window, take the cap off the fireplace and lower the birdie elevator into the chimney.  Every time, the bird would grab the hanger with its claws, hold on as it was pulled up and out upside down, then fly away, free as a bird one might say.  

Toward the end of our years in Ohio, my then husband had taken a new job back in Fort Wayne and was only home on weekends.  So, if a bird fell down the chimney it was my job to get it out.  

On one embarrassingly memorable morning my children (ages 10 and 12) were already out front waiting for the school bus when I realized there was a bird in the chimney.  I climbed out onto the roof and was lowering the birdie elevator down the chimney just as the bus arrived.  I understand from later reports that most of the kids on the bus were quite impressed by the show I put on, while my two were, of course, mortified.  "Mother, how could you?" was what I heard when they got home. 

say again?

 My west coast brother and sister-in-law were traveling today, to visit their east coast son and grandchildren, so I had to find something special about June 3 all by myself.  It turns out that June 3 is "National Egg Day" and "National Repeat Day."  

As it happens, my spouse and I celebrated both events today.  First repeating a visit to one of our favorite breakfast, brunch, lunch places, The Sunrise Cafe, and then ordering eggs for breakfast.  I had their scrambled eggs with ham, cheddar cheese and mushrooms, which I sprinkled with hot sauce.  

We went even further in celebrating Repeat Day, by going again to our frequently visited favorite Amish bakery "Taste of Tradition" where we stocked up on wheat and oat bread, cinnamon swirl bread, apple bread, molasses cookies and coffee cake, all of which we have had many times before.  

Then, in a wild and crazy break from the oft repeated, we bought a small sugar cream pie to share.  It was on sale. We had never tried their sugar cream pie before, but, after each having a piece this evening, I assure you we will be repeating the purchase of this incredibly delicious pie, which was made with eggs, so there we go, celebrating eggs again. 

be careful..

 Today, June 2, according to my west coast brother, is "Yell 'Fudge' at the Cobras in North America Day."  Obviously I needed to do a little research.  Observing this day is based on the belief that cobras are repelled by the word 'fudge.'  No information about how cobras feel about actual fudge.  I'm guessing that, if they had ever tasted my spouse's excellent fudge (an old family recipe handed down from his mother)  they would be clustered in droves in our back yard. 

As a general rule, I would say don't feed fudge to cobras.

To observe the day properly, you should have gone outside at noon, faced south and shouted 'FUDGE' several times loudly, therefore doing your part to keep cobras away.  It evidently works because there are no wild cobras in North America.  

If you missed your opportunity today, mark your calendar for June 2, 2026.  We can't be too careful.

I'm back...

 I'm back, having missed blogging for the last two nights, but for a very good reason.  On Saturday one of our grandsons graduated Cum Laude from a very prestigious K-12 private school in Wisconsin.  

We are very proud of him of course, but I also appreciated several facets of the commencement ceremony itself:  

It was a beautiful, sunny but chilly day and the ceremony was held outdoors on the grounds of the school.  My spouse and I came prepared with jackets.

True to their word, the program lasted exactly 90 minutes.

The Valedictorian gave an excellent speech.

The commencement address was given by a faculty member who had taught almost everyone in the class at one time or another  Someone they obviously respected and seemed to actually listen to.

The person reading the names of the graduates knew them and there were no mispronounced names.

The seats provided for the guests were clearly marked with the family name and there were helpful students at the entrance to show you, on a seating chart, where your assigned seats were.  

And, very important to the grandparent types (of whom there were many) golf cart rides were provided from the parking area to the site of the ceremony.

And last, but not least, the folding chairs were made of a somewhat flexible plastic, not cold hard metal.  They were surprisingly comfortable.  

All in all, it was one of the most enjoyable commencement ceremonies I have ever attended.