I just finished watching President Trump's State of the Union speech. Regardless of your political persuasion, I think we can all agree that it was long,
But seriously, it was also full of honors and stories of brave men and women who have served our country in one way or another. I did appreciate those accolades.
Even though the winter Olympics are over I'm still thinking about them and I have realized that there is one event in which I could compete. I'm talking about the Luge. Not the Skeleton. There is no way that I would go zipping down a slippery curving ice coated slide at 60 miles an hour, or more, on my back, head first,
But I watched the Luge teams, for the two person sleds, and I'm pretty sure I could do that. On my back feet first so I could see where I'm going.
Of course there would need to be some modifications made to the event. I can't see myself running beside the sled pushing it to get it up to speed and then leaping in. I would rather get in the sled and recline carefully while it is securely held in place, then hold on tight while someone else gets the sled going. It does look like a fun ride.
If they ever build a luge slope here in Fort Wayne and offer an Octogenarian division (maybe limit us to 30mph) I'll sign up. Our colors could be gray and silver. Does anyone want to be on my team?
My spouse and I had dinner this evening with my grandson and his wife. It was a very joyous get together. They are expecting their first child in two weeks. I'm guessing it might be sooner. She looks ready to pop.
Although it's been many years for me, I can remember the excitement of waiting for that first baby to be born. Every birth is exciting but that first baby catapults its parents into a whole new life style. Sleeping through the night will probably become a thing of the past, at least for the first several months. Your whole life revolves around this new being come to live with you.
Some things never change but I am intrigued by the things that have changed since I became a mother.
1. They know the sex of the baby, it's a boy. They decided on his name months ago.
2. They know how much it will weigh at birth, six pounds.
3. They know it is healthy and normal with the correct number of fingers and toes.
4. They know it's in the head down position.
5. My grandson knows that there will be a chair for him in the delivery room in case he feels faint. It could happen.
And the one thing that hasn't changed - they know that the baby's grandparents and great grandparents are ready, willing and able to pitch in and help as needed, especially with rocking the baby.
As it happens, I'm a champion baby rocker. If it was an Olympic sport I'd have a gold medal for sure. Can't wait to get back in the game.
My west coast brother informed me, earlier this afternoon, that today is "National Grain Free Day." Unfortunately, or maybe luckily, depending on how I look at it, I didn't read his text until after my spouse and I returned from a trip to our favorite Amish bakery where we had stocked up on our favorite breads and cookies. (I'll admit it, the molasses cookies are my downfall, not my spouses, but I do limit myself to one a day.)
Thinking about a grain free day, even though I'm not observing it, led me to wonder where grain falls on the newly designed food pyramid. here's what I found out. "The 2025-2030 Dietary Guidelines for Americans released in January 2026 feature a new 'inverted' food pyramid, prioritizing high-quality proteins, healthy fats and produce at the top, while placing whole grains at the (pointy little) base."
Luckily my spouse and I do have access to high quality proteins thanks to generous family gifts from the Omaha Steak Company. Also, if you were to look in our refrigerator right now you would find an ample supply of apples, oranges and grapes so that covers produce. Also celery, but nobody counts celery. I'm pretty sure that the real butter that I slather on my Cinnamon Swirl toast counts as a healthy fat, at least today. Butter like coffee is one of those foods that gets flipped from the 'good for you' list to the 'bad for you' list with some regularity.
I don't really have any argument with the new food pyramid except for where it places grain. Let's face it people need bread. What are you going to spread your peanut butter and jelly on? What will hold your ham salad sandwich? What will accompany your bacon and eggs if not some form of bread? I'm ok with grain at the bottom but I think the pyramid needs to be replaced with a semi-circle or U shape.
"The Good Food U for You" sounds catchy to me. Maybe I should write a letter to someone.
I have been watching the winter Olympics every night since they started over a week ago. Like everyone else watching, I marvel at the amazing performances whether it's on skates, snow boards, skis, luges or skeletons. I groan when someone falls and cheer when they pull off an excellent performance, even if the judges don't think it's perfect.
As a mother myself, I do find myself wondering what their parents feel as their children compete. All of my children marched in high school bands and I have felt a little bit of what they might be experiencing. I've watched our bands compete and come in third or fourth when I thought their performance was perfect.
But there is one big difference. I could relax while watching my offspring compete, knowing that they will not be flying down a mountainside, up an incline, doing triple and quadruple flips then landing gracefully on their feet (usually). Or, better yet, twirling up into the air on skates, doing four or five spins. then landing perfectly. It's all so exciting to watch and I assume that the athletes' parents have been supporting them through years and years of practice and competitions.
So here's to our wonderful Olympic contenders and here's to all those who have supported their dreams all along the way.
First, here's a picture of our latest accomplishment puzzle wise. It has been a very rainy day with nowhere to go so we puzzled more than we usually do.
Since my wonder spouse and I are retired we do have an ample amount of discretionary time. Some of that time we spend doing volunteer work and other worthwhile things.
However, when all of the important and semi-important things are done, we sometimes indulge in our greatest weakness (no, not drinking). We enjoy putting together jigsaw puzzles. We have a large table and excellent lighting in our basement rec room, and can take many days if necessary to finish a puzzle.
When you think about it logically, putting together a jigsaw puzzle is a huge waste of time. First we sort through all the pieces to find the edge pieces, then assemble them into the frame of the picture, then piece by piece fit all of the other pieces together.
Finally, finally it's finished. We can look at it with a great sense of accomplishment. We have completed 500, 750, 1000 and 2000 piece puzzles over the years. Then we break it all apart, put the puzzle back in its box, being very careful not to lose any pieces, and set it aside to donate somewhere, sometime.
Recently we discovered a way to keep our hard work. If a puzzle was particularly challenging or we just like the picture, we can save it by putting specially made backing material on the puzzle, then framing it in a poster frame and hanging it on the wall for all to see and admire. But only if they come down to our basement rec room. We have not yet resorted to hanging preserved puzzles in our living room. Give us credit for a little couth.
Writing about my ironing chore yesterday reminded me of another, much less pleasant chore that my oldest brother (two years younger than me) and I were expected to do during the summer months.
I should explain here that my mom was a loving, kind, wonderful mother, but she was also a teacher, and used to working with a schedule, so during our summer breaks she liked to keep us on something of a schedule. The schedule did include delightful things like a 10am break to eat sugar glazed donuts on Wednesdays after the bakery truck came by, TV time while we all watched Captain Kangaroo with my baby brother, and, my favorite, a half hour, or longer, break after lunch to relax in our bedrooms and read or nap. This was supposedly so my baby brother could nap. I didn't appreciate, until I was a mom myself, that it was also my mother's chance to rest.
The schedule also included her expectation that we would get up in "the cool of the morning" to weed the strawberry patch. Usually this chore was only for 30 minutes after which we went in and had breakfast. One particular morning my brother kept running inside and looking at the clock. Finally he announced that it was 8:00am and time for breakfast.
Everything was fine until my father came home from work that evening and didn't understand why his TV news show didn't come on until fifteen minutes past the hour. Very mysterious. He finally checked the clock on the wall in the kitchen against his pocket watch and realized that the kitchen clock was fifteen minutes fast.
I honestly don't remember what my brother's punishment was but I think it involved more weeding for him and less for me and mom. My parents were not spankers but they did believe in letting the punishment fit the crime. They also, happily, were blessed with good senses of humor.
As was true of many children of my generation, there were chores I was expected to do. While the oldest of my two brothers mowed grass and did other outside chores, I washed and dried dishes and set the table for meals. My mother, meanwhile, was being kept pretty busy with my baby brother.
The other chore I did regularly was to iron. These days, thanks to synthetic fabrics, I seldom iron at all but I was reminded of the ironing of my childhood when my wonder spouse informed me today that he was going to iron the top edge of our top bed sheet. The sheets had just come out of the dryer and I thought they were just fine but he wanted to do it, so who am I to argue? I like things smooth.
The reason this situation reminded me of my youth was because ironing was one of my chores and the first things I learned to iron were pillow cases. I don't think my mother ever ironed sheets, unless we had out of town company coming, but she did like smooth pillow cases.
I don't mean to brag but I must have been quite precocious, because I quickly 'graduated' to ironing my father's and brother's dress shirts. As chores went, ironing was the best because I could watch TV as I ironed. The better the show, the slower I ironed.
First the answers to yesterday's Valentines quiz:
1. most popular flower - rose
2. Cupid's father - Mars
3. Cupid's mother -Venus
4. amount spent on Valentine's day in 2023. None of the choices given were actually correct so I decided to give an up to date answer. 27.5 billion dollars were spent on Valentines Day gifts, etc. in 2025.
5. most popular Valentines Day activity - going out to dinner
6. classic Valentine's Day gift - chocolate
7. the USA produces the most chocolate for Valentine's Day
8. the meaning of XOXO - hugs and kisses
9. Valentine's Day originated in Italy.
10. Teachers receive the most Valentine gifts
And that is quite enough about Valentine's Day, except to share one of my most embarrassing moments. When I was in 8th grade, already 5'9" tall and less than graceful, my teacher, at our little parochial school, brought a sheet cake pan of bright red anise candy to school as a special treat for all of us students in the class. He had the candy sitting on the corner of his desk and had promised to share it with us after lunch. During a study time, I walked up to his desk to ask a question and bumped that pan of candy which fell to the floor and shattered into at least a million little pieces. I really don't know how it happened. At that point my face was as red as the candy. I was mortified (and obviously not very popular with my classmates). My dear long-suffering teacher, who I did like very much, just sadly shook his head and said "Get a broom and sweep it up."
He did not act at all surprised. He had, after all, been teaching 8th graders for a long, long time.
Happy Valentines Day everyone. Just for fun, here's a trivia game to keep you occupied when you're trying to resist eating more candy. Your children may score better than you on this.
Valentine's Day Trivia Game
1. What is the most popular flower to give on Valentine's Day?
a. lily b. daisy c. rose d. tulip
2. Who is Cupid's father?
a. Jupiter b. Mars c. Neptune d. Apollo
3. Who is Cupid's mother?
a. Minerva b. Ceres c. Venus d. Diana
4. How much did Americans spend on Valentine's Day in 2023?
a. 30.2 million b. 27.5 billion c. 29.1 billion d. 75.5 million
5. What is the most popular Valentine's Day activity?
a. watching a movie b. taking a walk c. going out to dinner d. taking a trip
6. What item is the classic Valentine's Day gift?
a. cards b. wine c. jewelry d. chocolate
7. Which country produces the most chocolate for Valentine's Day?
a. USA b. Germany c. Switzerland d. Belgium
8. What is the meaning of XOXO?
a. joy and happiness b. love and peace c. hugs and kisses d. hope and faith
9. In which country did Valentine's Day originate?
a. France b. UK c. Italy d. Spain
10. Who receives the most Valentines gifts?
a. children b. mothers c. teachers d. girlfriends
Answers tomorrow.
Hi everyone, I hope you enjoyed yesterday's quiz. Here are the answers:
!. Turkey, dressing, potatoes and peas
2. William A. Mitchell also invented Pop Rocks and Cool Whip.
3. Neil Armstrong, Buzz Aldrin and Michael Collins
4. Tom and Jerry
5. Gilligan, the Skipper, Ginger, the Professor, Mary Ann, Thurston Howell III and Eunice "Lovey" Howell
6. "Let It Be" though "Abbey Road" was the last they recorded together.
7. The Ed Sullivan Show on February 9, 1964
8. The Hula Hoop
9. Bobby Riggs
10. Theodore Geisel
If that wasn't enough for you, here are three questions to pose to a family member or friend:
Would you rather be Abraham and told to sacrifice your son OR be Isaac knowing that your father was willing to do it?
Would you rather face Goliath with only a slingshot and stone OR wander in the wilderness for 40 years?
Would you rather see Lot's wife turned to salt OR hear Balaam's donkey talk?
Several of us who attend the same Sunday School class most Sundays decided to meet for lunch today just to socialize. We gathered at Hall's Gas House, always a great place to eat. The friend who first suggested this get together really out-did herself in making it a fun pre-Valentines Day event. The tables were decorated with red tinsel and heart shaped cups full of candy and she provided some paperwork to entertain us as we waited for our food, giving us plenty to talk about, around the tables. I have decided to share one of the games with you. Enjoy:
A BOOMER'S QUESTIONAIRE (If this doesn't bring back some memories, I don't know what will.)
!. What was the first Swanson TV dinner?
2. What two other "junk food" favorites were created by the inventor of Tang?
3. Name all three astronauts who were part of the Apollo 11 moon landing in 1969.
4. What did Simon and Garfunkel call themselves before adopting this name?
5. How many castaways can you name from the TV show "Gilligan's Island?"
6. What was the last Beatle's album to be released?
7. Who hosted the Beatle's first appearance on American TV?
8. What toy became a worldwide sensation when it was popularized by Wham-O in 1957?
9. Who was tennis player Billie Jean King's opponent in the "Battle of the Sexes?"
10. What was the real name of "Dr. Seuss?"
Answers tomorrow.
I started wearing glasses when I was seven years old. The first pair I had had brown squarish frames. I never minded wearing glasses, and yes, in case you're wondering, boys do make passes at girls who wear glasses.
Over the years I've worn wire rimmed, cat's eye and various other styles. I also wore contact lenses for about 20 years. But there came a time when I needed reading glasses with my contacts. That's when I decided it would be easier to just go back to wearing glasses.
I'm bringing all this up because today I had my eyes examined and my new glasses will be ready in a week. My wonder spouse wondered if I could just have new lenses put in my current frames, but I explained to him that there is really no fun in getting new glasses if you don't get new frames. Interestingly, the new frames I picked out are squarish and brown (really more copper). My wonder spouse went with me to the appointment because we were going to lunch with friends right after. He told me up front that he would not assist me in selecting frames but when the time came and I had narrowed my choices down to three he picked the one I liked best. So we're both happy.
What I find interesting is how much new technology is involved in eye exams these days. This morning the tech, who looked like such a sweet young thing, put a 'football helmet' on my head, then clamped a pair of goggles that rivaled anything I've seen on Olympic skiers to the helmet. It was heavy but I did manage to hold my head up and follow directions. A voice in my ear told me to watch the bouncing ball, keep my eyes wide open, blink when instructed and watch the orange target. That AI voice kept telling me that I was doing very well which was nice to hear. I have done visual field screening exercises in my ophthalmologist's office but he doesn't make me wear a football helmet. Interestingly though, today my optometrist still took me through the very familiar slide show with the same old questions that eye doctors have been asking me since I was a child - which looks clearer, this one or 'click' this one? Which line of print can you read? And on and on it went. It felt like a long time but the actual exam only took 25 minutes. Then I got to pick out my new frames, the final reward. I will enjoy having new glasses, (and I will be able to read small print more easily) even though I realize that most of my friends will never notice the difference.
Do you remember, when you were very young, long lazy days during summer vacation? Those days when school was out and it seemed like summer would go on forever? You could lie on the grass and watch the clouds form and re-form pictures of fantastical beasts and pirate ships or rocket ships or whatever.
When you get to be an adult those lazy days are much harder to come by. Even when, like me and my wonder spouse, you're retired, stuff like doctors' appointments, necessary shopping trips (groceries are important), and volunteer work tend to fill up at least part of every day.
But today, thanks to a series of pleasant coincidences, was one of those lazy days for me.
After weeks of below freezing temperatures, the sun is blazing down from a clear blue sky, the temperature has soared to over 40 degrees, snow has disappeared from the streets and sidewalks (although it does still cover the grass) and I have had nothing to do that must be done today. I did walk out to get the mail and was able to breathe deeply without feeling my lungs freeze up.
I have read a book and worked on a stitchery, but only because I wanted to. A lazy day for sure and I am loving every minute of it. Is it possible that I have early onset spring fever???
My west coast brother informed me earlier today that this is "Chocolate Day." I am happy to be able to report that I did enjoy some really excellent chocolate this evening. I do like to celebrate these special days.
But first the rest of the story. Yesterday was my brother-in-law's birthday. When we said that we would take him to dinner to celebrate and that he could choose the place, he accepted with alacrity and selected Cork and Cleaver, an excellent local restaurant with an amazing salad bar. I tried to make a reservation for yesterday, his actual birthday, but they said they would be closed, so we went this evening instead.
It is one of those restaurants where you really do need to make a reservation. As we were leaving after our dinner I heard the receptionist speaking on the phone saying "I'm sorry but we're completely booked for the rest of this evening."
But about that chocolate - after the three of us were full to bursting with huge mounds of salad bar salad, steaks, sweet potato, baked potato, mushrooms, broccoli with cheese sauce and molasses bread with cinnamon butter (none of us had all of that but you get the idea) they brought out a humungous slab of mud pie for the birthday boy. Of course they also brought three chilled desert plates so we could share. Their mud pie is a frozen mound of coffee ice cream coated with a delicious chocolate shell and topped with a mound of whipped cream. So now you know how I got my chocolate for today and why I am now waddling off to bed to sleep it off. Sweet dreams everyone.
My eye doctor suggested that I should use a larger monitor and key board for my writing which, of course, includes this blog. The new computer arrived yesterday and I am using it right now for the first time to write this blog.
So far it is being very nice to use but I had really hoped that I would suddenly, magically become a more competent typist. So far that is not happening. Thank goodness for spell checker. The closest I ever came to failing a class was when I took typing in high school, back in the bad old days when carbon paper was my nemesis.
This new monitor does have a lovely large screen, a 24 inch instead of my laptop's 13 inch. Thinking about this makes me laugh. I was in sixth grade when my father brought home our first television set. It was awesome, a Zenith brand 'portable' that sat on a table top and probably weighed at least fifty pounds. It had a 13 inch screen, black and white of course, and received three channels through an antenna on the roof. Flash Gordon, Captain Kangaroo, Gunsmoke, Saturday morning cartoons and more kept us enthralled.
Now I can watch a TV show on my computer, through the magic of split screen, while also blogging or answering emails or attending a Zoom meeting. I can do that all at once, but "new and improved?" I'm not so sure.
The Fort Wayne Philharmonic almost never disappoints. Almost never. This evening was an exception, at least for me.
First I must say the piece performed before the intermission was absolutely wonderful. Peter Boyer's "Ellis Island: The Dream of America" was amazing. Beautiful music interspersed with the narration of oral histories of people who had come to America through Ellis Island over many years kept me spell bound.
Unfortunately the second piece, performed after the intermission left me cold. Leonard Bernstein's Symphony No. 2, "The Age of Anxiety" made me anxious to have it finished. The guest pianist was very good and his encore was the best part of the second half in my opinion.
As I listened to the Bernstein piece I assumed that it was my lack of understanding of more contemporary music that was keeping me from enjoying the music. Surprise, surprise, when I confessed my disappointment with the second piece to my wonder spouse when we got back to our car, he agreed with me. He was also wondering about that piece. He knows much more about music than I do so it was very reassuring to know that he agreed with me.
The Winter Olympics opening ceremony is tonight. Thank you NBC for televising this. Thank you MIlano Cortina for hosting it. It's hard for me to imagine how much preparation goes into hosting the Olympics but it must be an incredibly long and complicated process.
There are so many things I love about the Winter Olympics. Figure skating and and speed skating are among my favorites. Then there are all of the down hill speed competitions on skis, snowboards and, never forget, the luge sleds.
I haven't been on ice skates for years but when I was a young teen I had my own ice skates, white of course, and we skated quite a bit during the winter. We would skate at the Coliseum, on the hockey rink when there weren't games scheduled. It was a wonderfully large space.
One winter a heavy rain flooded a field across the road from our house and then it froze hard. For a few wonderful winter weeks we had our own private rink. The field ice was much rougher than hockey rink ice and I can remember lying in bed at night after a long time on the ice and feeling my feet vibrating, like they did on the rough ice.
All of this is to say I love ice skating. It is my favorite part of the Winter Olympics.
This year though there is an added bonus for me as I watch the Olympics. On my first trip to Europe, about 15 years ago, I spent some time in Milan, and seeing the Duomo and other famous landmarks on TV this evening brought back some wonderful memories.
Enjoy the Olympics, I know I will.
Yesterday I had an appointment with my optometrist. Because of glaucoma some years ago (now under control) and other vision concerns my appointments are every four months. Yesterday's appointment included a visual field exam which, to me, is like a computer game. With one eye at a time I watch as little lights flash on the screen I'm staring at. When I see a light I press the button on a little hand held clicker. I have very little peripheral vision in my left eye, due to the above mentioned glaucoma, so it's no surprise that my right eye does much better on this test. It's also why I tend to bump into people walking up on my left side. So embarrassing.
Essentially, I see with my right eye and my left eye is just kind of along for the ride, seeing blurry images and helping with depth perception. Happily there is no macular degeneration, for which I am very thankful.
When I renewed my driver's license two years ago, I was told that, because of the limited vision in my left eye I would have a restriction on my license. When I asked what that would be, I was told that I must have an outside rear view mirror on the left side of my car. I was amazed that that was the restriction. Who doesn't have out side mirrors on their cars these days? Even my ten year old Fiat has them.
My spouse was with me for the appointment and in our discussion with the doctor I mentioned that my eyes get very blurry after I have been working on my laptop for a half hour or even less sometimes. It also happens when I'm reading print materials. She said that it was because, when we are staring at a computer screen, or a page, but more often while staring at a screen, we forget to blink. Ordinarily people blink every few seconds, but when we stare at a screen we only blink one or two times a minute, not nearly enough to keep our eyes hydrated.
So here I am, writing this blog and blinking frequently. It's a habit I must practice. I also now have some lovely eyedrops to use two or three times a day. My wonder spouse is a big help in getting the drops in my eyes instead of rolling down my cheeks.
All of this led up to some decisions for a few changes here at home. For some years now, I have preferred to read large print books. Happily our local library has a huge selection of these which may say something about the age of the general population in our neighborhood. My wonder spouse decided that, in addition to those books, I could also use a new computer with a larger monitor and a full size keyboard. The laptop I use now has a 13 inch screen and a smaller than standard keyboard. I already enlarge the print on computer documents whenever I can but this will improve the situation.
When my wonder spouse decides that we (I) need something he doesn't fool around. The new computer will be delivered on Monday. Meanwhile I'll keep blinking and using eye drops and blogging of course. I'll always keep blogging.
This evening my son, who is fifty-four years old, texted me from Houston where he is spending four days with his company at a conference being held at NASA. Today was their first day there. The conference presentations, which he will participate in, begin tomorrow. But today was fun. They got to scuba dive in one of the astronaut training pools and take a tour of the original Mission Control room. I know the tour was a thrill for my son because he has been dreaming of being an astronaut since he was five years old and we took him to see the first Star Wars movie.
When he was 11 years old we sent him to Space Camp in Huntsville, Alabama. It was a week long program designed to teach students, beginning with fifth grade, all about what astronauts did and the space program. At the end of the week his father and I and his younger sister drove to Huntsville to pick him up. I expected him to be happy to see us.
While the students were finishing up their project we parents and other guests were taken on a tour of the facility which ended on the balcony level of a large room where we could look down and watch our kids working on computers getting ready to "launch a rocket."
When our son looked up, with all the other kids, he spotted us looking down at him, smiling and waving, because we were so happy to see him (this was the first time he had ever been away from home for a week) but his face did not reflect our joy. His face fell like a deflating balloon and you could tell by his expression that he realized his wonderful week was over.
But don't feel too sorry for him. He, and his sister when she was old enough, went back to Space Camp year after year, as children and teens and eventually as paid camp counselors during their summers while they were in high school and college.
In case you wonder if this camp experience did them any good, our daughter, who was more interested in planes than rockets, went on to serve in the Air National Guard for many years and our son has taught STEM related subjects and worked in Science and Space museums around the country. He now works designing summer camps and week long programs (which include developing research experiments launched by balloons into the stratosphere) for fifth graders around the US and, coming soon, as far away as Kenya.
Was it worth the cost to send them to Space Camp? Oh yes, absolutely.
Today my west coast brother suggested to me that I should blog about Cordova Ice Worms because today is "National Cordova Ice Worm Day." Since my first search revealed that Cordova is a city in Alaska, and I have a fondness for Alaska, I decided to dig a little deeper. First of all, it's not just a day, the Cordova Ice Worm Festival is a week long event including a parade, fireworks and an amazing array of other activities.
Here's some of what I found:
"The Iceworm Festival is one of Alaska’s best known winter festivals, and Cordova’s oldest community festival. Each year, we come together to put on a jam packed week of fun for all ages. We’d love to have you join us!"
This year the festival runs from January 31 to February 7, so you still have time to get there. It's always held at the end of January and into February to celebrate the increasing light each day and the anticipation of spring. I think this sounds like a lot more fun than Groundhog's Day.
Another note I found said that the ice worm in the parade is very long and looks something like a Japanese parade dragon. The tail of the dragon is removed and hidden at the beginning of the week. The person who finds the tail wins $100.
"Believe it or not, Iceworms are real ice-dwelling creatures! They existed long before our beloved festival. In fact, they were first discovered in the 1800's by Dr. G. F. Wright on Muir Glacier in Glacier Bay. They live as far south as Washington, and can be found in Southeast and South Central Alaska."
I find the above paragraph particularly interesting because my west coast brother actually lives in Washington State. Since he brought this whole ice worm event to my attention, I think he should find one (there's probably one lurking somewhere on his farm) and take a picture to send to me. Since he reads my blogs I'm telling him right now do NOT send me a worm, just the picture.
As soon as I receive a picture, I will share it.
My spouse and I tutor children on Monday afternoons after school. We go to their school and meet in the media center (aka library). Because of holiday and weather interruptions, today was our first tutoring session in three weeks.
My third grader was happy to see me and we had a good time reviewing some materials and reading together. Among the things we reviewed was a list of his favorite things that I had typed out for him to read. On the list was his favorite food - chili dogs.
Having worked up an appetite with all that hard tutoring, and having chili dogs on my mind, I mentioned this child's favorite to my spouse at the end of the lesson. We both agreed that, since we would be driving through down town Fort Wayne on the way home, and since it was almost supper time, having chili dogs for supper seemed like a really excellent idea.
And so we stopped at the original Fort Wayne's Famous Coney Island, in business at the same location on Main Street for over 100 years, where their 'buns are steamed' to have our supper. We each had two of their original chili dogs. My wonder spouse added catsup and I added cheese and they were soooooo good. It's surprising how filling and satisfying two hot dogs can be. This may not sound like gourmet fare to you, but trust me it's an experience not to be missed, and having dined their once, you will go back.
My west coast brother has informed me that today is "Spunky Old Broads Day" and also "National Dark Chocolate Day." Well, it goes without saying that I'm always happy to celebrate anything involving dark chocolate, but I needed to think about spunky.
At 81 I'm pretty sure that I qualify as an 'old broad' but I'm not so sure about being considered spunky, so I looked up the definition. It turns out that spunky means courageous and determined. It can also mean feisty, energetic and daring. There's a whole other meaning in the UK but I won't go in to that.
I have been daring, courageous and determined in my life. Moving to a town in upstate New York for a teaching job and tending bar when I ran out of money comes to mind.
Much more recently I think it took some courage to decide to remarry at the age of 79. Of course that may have taken more courage on my wonder spouse's part. I think we both were pretty spunky during our trip to Egypt last November, although I didn't ride a camel so maybe he was more spunky than I was.
All in all though, after giving it careful thought, I think that yes indeed I am a spunky old broad. I think I'll go eat some dark chocolate to celebrate.
Today is January 31. My west coast brother informed me that it's "National Hot Chocolate Day" which does sound like a very fine day indeed. But for me January 31 has an even greater significance. It is the LAST day of January and that means there are only 48 days until SPRING!!!
Snow is lying deep on the ground around here, and the high temperature each day continues to hover around 15 (that's 15 above, thank goodness). Snow is beautiful when the sun shines on it, but honestly I am getting tired of snow.
So I am focusing on March 20th and envisioning green grass, little yellow flowers, clear pavements and no snow anywhere. That's my vision, what's yours?
My west coast brother told me, earlier today, that this is "Yodel for Your Neighbors Day." Just seeing the word yodel brought back an avalanche of memories. But before I get into that, let me assure you that I have not, nor do I plan to yodel for my neighbors. There are three very good reasons for this constraint on my part:
1. It's bitter cold outside, not at all a good day for yodeling.
2. Many of my neighbors don't know me very well and this would not be a great first impression. Even though, if I stood in the middle of the cul-de-sac, I could entertain several neighbors at once.
3. And, probably most importantly, I can't yodel.
That brings me back to the memories. When I was young our heroes were cowboys. Many of the shows we heard on the radio and later watched on television starred singing cowboy, and sometimes cowgirls. Gene Autry, Roy Rogers and Dale Evans were our favorites. I liked their singing (who can forget "Happy Trails to You"?) but I was especially impressed with their yodeling. They could all yodel beautifully. At about that same age, 10 maybe, I read the novel "Heidi" about a young girl raised by her grandfather in the Swiss Alps. Yodeling seemed to bounce from every page of that book, even if I was only hearing it in my imagination. 'Yodel ay hee hoo' is how they spelled it out. and when they yodeled people far away could hear them.
I have tried and tried to learn to yodel but alas to no avail. Lucky for me, I have never been lost in a snowstorm in the Alps (or anywhere else for that matter) with a need to make enough noise to be rescued.
I had Chinese food for supper tonight and with it came the inevitable Fortune Cookie. My fortune said "Your perseverance will be a key to achieving your goals." Well that sounds very nice and positive, as they always do. I mean, fortune cookies are nice, mildly flavored cookies that go well after a large dinner, especially with hot tea, but I don't think people would be so eager to eat them if the fortunes were less positive. For instance, if the fortune above was rewritten like this "If you give up now you'll never amount to anything." I don't think it would be as well received by the cookie eater.
But pondering fortune cookies got me wondering who came up with the idea of little folded cookies containing bits of wisdom. Naturally I turned to Google and here's what I found out. Wikipedia says they most likely originated as cookies made by Japanese immigrants to the United States in the late 19th or early 20th centuries. The Japanese version did not have the lucky numbers or fortunes and were eaten with tea.
There is a hot dispute between bakers in Los Angeles and San Francisco, each city claiming to be the site of the origin of these tasty little cookies. Whatever the truth, which we may never know, I wish you good fortune in life and on paper.
I've been working on this stitchery off and on for months. I actually strung the loom for this piece way back when I first learned that my grandson and his wife were expecting, but before I knew the gender.
To create a stitchery (my term for what I do) I first weave the background. Because my loom is a New Zealand lap loom I can only weave pieces that are up to 15 inches wide, hence the long narrow format. After I take the woven piece off the loom I stitch my design on it.
I started making these stitcheries during Covid when I had lots of yarn and lots and lots of time. The tulip piece is an earlier project. My wonder spouse has encourages me to take over half of the finished area in our basement for my 'studio' and I have happily adapted the space to my needs.
This has been a long process and I'm excited for it to be over but not nearly as excited, I'm sure, as the new parents are for their long wait to be over. Six weeks and counting.
It continues to be very cold around here with sub-zero wind chills. Happily, my west coast brother lit a spark of hope in me. He informed me that today is "National Plan for Vacation Day." I think this is an excellent idea. He also said that today is "National Chocolate Cake Day."
So picture this. I'm sitting here eating a generous slice of chocolate cake as I start to plan for our next vacation. That's not really happening, at least not quite. My spouse and I did enjoy some very tasty coffee cake while watching TV earlier t
his evening.
As far as trip planning, that is done. We will be leaving on our next big trip in May, another Viking cruise. The flights are reserved, everything is paid for, and all of the shore excursions have been scheduled.
All I really need to do is pack, but it's much too early for that. Although, now that I think about it, I certainly won't be needing to wear any of my summer clothes here any time soon.
Of course I'm just daydreaming now, but, before you know it, it really will be time to start packing. It's Almost February, only four months to go.
My west coast brother informed me that today is "Spouse's Day." This is very appropriate because I am so ready to celebrate my spouse and all his hard work today.
We received 8.7 inches of snow over the weekend, a record for the date in our area. By 8:00am this morning a snow plow had come through and cleared our cul-de-sac. By 8:05am my spouse was dressed in many warm layers and ready to brave the elements (it was 10 degrees outside) with his trusty snow blower, which he had remembered to fill with gas earlier this winter. One of his layers was ski pants that he has had for over 40 years (he bought them in Austria) and can still get into. Hooray for him.
Now it's evening and he is on his way to pick up the pizzas he ordered for our supper. Am I spoiled? No doubt about it. Do I appreciate all that my wonder spouse does? You have no idea how much.
I don't ordinarily touch on religious subjects in this blog but I wrote this devotion for an upcoming meeting and decided to share it. In our part of Indiana it is very cold (10 degrees) and snowy today so most churches were closed. If, like me, you couldn't go to church today, this can be your little dose of religion.
In Luke 12 vs 24 to 26 Jesus says “Consider the ravens: they neither plant nor harvest, they have no silo or barn, yet God feeds them. You are worth so much more than birds. Who among you by worrying can add a single moment to your life? If you can’t do such a small thing why worry about the rest?”
And in verse
32 “Don’t be afraid little flock, because your Father delights in giving you
the kingdom. “
In our
pastor’s sermon on January 18, about algorithms, she used the phrase “a grace
filled curiosity.”
My husband
and I have three bird feeders in our back yard positioned so that we can watch
the birds as we eat in our breakfast nook.
Cardinals, blue jays and house finches are regular visitors.
Every day we
watch them demonstrating ‘a grace filled curiosity’ as they flutter from one
feeder to another to see what goodies they might discover. I would like to think that they appreciate
the food we put out for them, but Jesus was right, they don’t seem to
worry. They just eat what’s there, when
it’s there.
And that, I
think, is God’s lesson to us. He’s not
saying “Don’t plan ahead.” Of course, we
all plan ahead. When we go grocery
shopping or order something we need on Amazon we are planning ahead. It’s human nature and appropriate to plan
ahead.
I think what
Jesus is saying is, after you have made your necessary daily plans, take time
to relax and enjoy the life you’re living right now. Take time for some “grace filled curiosity.”
After writing four articles for the "Mama said" program, I have decided that I want to write down what little I know about my grandmothers, both of whom died before I was born.
My father's mother came to his grandparents' home as a housekeeper and worked in that capacity for several years. It was not unusual for teenage girls to 'go into service' in those days to help support their families. She worked in their house for several years. I'm not sure how it came about that she and my grandfather were married, propinquity perhaps, but I do know that she was older than he was. When we were children my cousin and I used to take turns dressing up in the long black skirt that was part of her wedding dress. A very practical dress that she probably wore on Sundays for years. My father was born in 1916 and had two older sisters so I'm guessing that my paternal grandparents were married about 1910.
My mother's mother grew up in the Laurel Mountains area of Pennsylvania. She was a small town girl with bold dreams. My grandfather came into her life as a young newly ordained pastor. He had worked for some years as a coal miner to earn enough money to attend seminary. When my mother once asked her mother why she married my grandfather the answer was "I wanted to see what was on the other side of the mountain." My mother was born in 1910 and had two older siblings so I'm guessing that her parents were married about 1905. I was told that, in later years, this grandmother was revered as an excellent Sunday School teacher.
Interestingly, both of my grandmothers were 5 feet 10 inches tall (tall for a woman of that era) and each of them was six years older than her husband. Sadly, both of my grandmothers died in their 50s, before I was born. I would have liked to have known them.
I'm feeling restless today. I think it's the proverbial 'calm before the storm.' It's very cold outside, ten degrees to be exact (and we won't even talk about the windchill factor). There is still snow on the ground from the last snowfall but the streets are clear and driving is not hazardous. The sun has been shining brightly most of the day and all seems right with the world.
Except, all the birds have disappeared and all of the squirrels are in hiding. What do they know that I don't?
In olden days I suspect that farmers could experience a day like today and sense that a change was coming. We were driving in Amish territory earlier today, going to our favorite bakery, and I was surprised at how many horses were out grazing in the pastures. A few had blankets on but most did not and the cold did not seem to be bothering them at all. I suspect that sunshine on their backs really helped their comfort level. The weather people delight in telling us how cold it feels with the wind chill (-32 degrees this morning) but they never talk about the 'sun warm' factor. You know it's true, when you step outside and feel sunshine on your face, regardless of temperature, it feels better than stepping outside on a gray cloudy day.
However, as I said earlier, sunshine or no sunshine, I am feeling very restless today. It's because, thanks to modern technology, I know that something is coming. I even know when. Tomorrow night it will start to snow and it will continue to snow all day Sunday, or so they say. I've heard predictions of anywhere from two to nine inches of the fluffy white stuff. The weatherpersons' maps are showing lots of purple.
We are making preparations. Most schools were closed or having only e-learning classes today (same difference). Our church has decided to hold only on-line worship on Sunday which is just fine with me, and, hopefully, the person hired to clear the streets in our subdivision will be able to do so. The last person quit after only one street.
My west coast brother informed me that today is "Snowplow Mailbox Hockey Day." If we get the snow when they say we'll get it, I think that Monday is much more likely to be the day when we see Snowplow Mailbox Hockey being played.
It's a real thing. I lost a mailbox to a snowplow several years ago. At that time I lived on a county road and the snowplows moved along at a pretty impressive speed. I happened to be at home (snowed in of course) and heard the collision. It made quite an interesting noise. Sort of a CLANG! BANG! CRASH! "Oh sh....." kind of noise.
I don't know for sure what this weekend will bring but you can be sure I will report about it on Monday. Meanwhile I think I'll fix myself and my spouse some hot cocoa.
Since I like to write it should come as no shock to you that I also love to read. I wish I could say that I only read high-brow best sellers but the truth is I enjoy romances, mysteries, police procedurals and medical mysteries.
One of the things I enjoy most is discovering a series of novels featuring the same characters. I first discovered this love with the "Little House" series when I was in elementary school. I loved that family so much that I dragged my family to many of the locations in the books on one of our trips west.
I enjoy the sense of revisiting old friends when I start each new book in a series. I think I've mentioned "The Royal Spyness" series by Rhys Bowen. I recommend starting with the first one "Her Royal Spyness." There are 19 in the series which takes place in 1930s England. Lots of history woven into these.
Another series I am happy to recommend is the "Mrs. Jeffries" series by Emily Brightwell. These are Victorian police procedural mysteries. I'm in the middle of one of these right now, so I am going to stop writing and get back to reading. Happy reading everyone.
My west coast brother has informed me that today is "Squirrel Appreciation Day." I'm not sure if I really appreciate squirrels, that may be too strong a word.
I do enjoy watching their antics as they try to steal the birds' food from our bird feeders. It's sort of sad but definitely funny to watch as they slide down the skinny poles that support the feeders, foiled in their attempts to reach the food by a squirrel shield fastened around the pole about half way up. It's too wide for them to climb up on or over but they do keep trying.
Lest you start feeling sorry for the furry little beasts let me assure you they get quite a bit of food that falls to the ground. Birds are not neat eaters.
My father, who had done battle a few times with squirrels in attics and other inappropriate places was not a fan. "They are just rodents with fluffy tails." He was right of course. But lucky for them they do have those fluffy tails and cute faces. That's what saves them. If I looked out in the back yard and saw another kind of largish rodent (rats for example) I would be calling the exterminator.
Lucky lucky squirrels, saved by their cuteness.
Mama
said…number 4, my final essay in this series
About Aunt
Dora
My dear Aunt
Dora lived in the same little house, in the same small town, for all of her
life. She never travelled further than a
cousin’s place in Detroit but somehow the world came to her.
Having lived
in the same small town for so long, it’s no surprise that when my then newly
wed brother and sister-in-law mailed a thank you note from Spokane, Washington simply
addressed to Aunt Dora, Woodburn, Indiana it was delivered with no
problem.
When my aunt
agreed to marry my Uncle Elson, a dashing young stranger who had come to town,
my grandfather insisted that they should move in with him, to live together, in
the house he had built, and take care of him as he grew older; my grandmother
having died some years earlier. They
agreed, accepting that moving in with him made good financial sense. Lest you think that my uncle was a ne’er-do-well,
he worked for many years at GE and could certainly have afforded to provide a
newer, nicer home for the two of them and their two children.
But my
grandpa really wanted them to stay and so they did. Uncle Elson was the first bit of the wide
world to come to Aunt Dora, closely followed by my mother, the ‘wicked’
big-city woman who had lured my father (Aunt Dora’s baby brother and their
hometown hero) into marriage, while he was away from home serving in the
Army.
I’m not sure
how it happened that Uncle Elson came to Woodburn, but he came with stories of
working for the WPA and as a cowboy out west.
He even had (gasp) a tattoo, which no one else in our family had. It was a hula dancer tattooed on his left
lower inner arm and, when he flexed his muscles, he could make it dance. We kids were all very impressed. I’m not sure if that’s what sold my aunt on
the idea of marrying him or if there just weren’t that many available men, or
if it was just his charm. I do have a
picture of him from those early days though, and he did cut quite a dashing
figure.
As life went
on my Aunt Dora had many jobs, including babysitting for most of the children
in that small town. Her own two were ten
years apart in age so she had time to care for other people’s children. She and my uncle later worked for many years
as custodians in our local Lutheran school, again knowing all of the children
by their names and family connections.
One of her
few treasures, built on all these connections, was a bow-shaped glass fronted six feet tall
cabinet full of her collection of salt and pepper shakers from all over the
world. Everyone in town knew about Aunt
Dora’s collection and would bring her souvenirs from their travels. The world came to her.
The reason I
am including my Aunt Dora in this series of essays about mothers is because she
was the closest thing to a grandmother I ever had, both of my grandmothers
having died before I was born. When I
got sick at school I could walk to her house and she would always take care of
me. We lived out in the country so
walking home was not an option.
When our
mother died, I was 21 and my youngest brother was only 11. My middle brother had married right after
high school and was living with his wife in an apartment. I was teaching school and living in a city
which was a two-hour drive from home. So
Aunt Dora was the one who stepped in to help with the everyday chores and ease
my father into the responsibilities of being an only parent and widower at the
age of 49.
All of this
while she was also caring for my grandfather who had developed diabetes and had
had both legs amputated. He lived for
several years after those surgeries thanks to her devoted care.
Uncle Elson
died very unexpectedly of a heart attack in his early seventies. “Just fell down on the kitchen floor and
died.” as she described it to me later.
Sad to say, but quite truthfully, the memory of how she handled that
situation was my guide as I dealt with
the unexpected death of my first husband.
If she could get through it, so could I.
I loved my
Aunt Dora and I honor her memory.
Mama said, number three
The Job She
Never Wanted
In my adult
years there have been several times when friends since childhood have told me
that my mother was the best teacher they ever had or their favorite
teacher. I thank them for their kind words
and don’t tell them that she never wanted to be a teacher.
My mother
was born in 1910. As she grew up all she
ever wanted to do was be a nurse. Her
mother, a minister’s wife, did not think that nursing was a suitable career for
a lady and insisted that she become a teacher.
So she earned her bachelor’s degree and became a teacher, first in a
one-room schoolhouse, then a couple of years later teaching fifth grade in a
city school.
During the
summers she had a wide variety of jobs including selling taffy on the boardwalk
in Atlantic City and driving a professor and his wife on a cross-country tour
of the United States. Her stories of the
Grand Canyon and Carlsbad Caverns whetted my appetite for travel.
During the
early years of her teaching career my mother took flying lessons, worked part
time as a buyer for a department store, and got qualified as a beautician.
Finally,
finally, after her mother died, my mother became able to pursue her dream of
becoming a nurse. She was accepted as a
nursing student at Johns Hopkins. She
was 32 years old, tall blond, and beautiful and in her first year of nurse’s
training when she met my father, a dashing Army Master Sergeant.
They fell in
love and got married and “pop” the nursing dream was over. Married women were not allowed to study to be
nurses.
Years passed. Ten years and three children later, my father
decided to become an independent contractor, meaning that the family income was
not always predictable. My mother went
back to teaching – third and fourth graders at our small parochial school. She was an amazing teacher and her students
loved her.
When I
became a teacher (I think she had secretly hoped I might become a nurse) I
asked her for her secret of being such a good teacher. Her answer “I find something to love about
every student.”
I must digress from the 'Mama said' series to celebrate the return of the Fort Wayne Philharmonic. This evening's was the first program in their spring series, and they started off with a bang (not to mention crashing cymbals and lots of drums).
The program opened with "Tambor" by John Tower. It was a beautiful, exciting piece that used every percussion instrument imaginable. It was ten minutes of great fun noise.
The second piece on the program was "The Rose of Sonora" by George S. Clinton, who narrated the story in short segments between the musical movements. The solo violinist, Holly Mulcahy, was superb. The whole number unfolded like a Philharmonic melodrama, very entertaining.
After the intermission we were back on familiar ground with Ferde Grofe's Grand Canyon Suite. From 'Sunrise' to 'Cloudburst' it was sublime. Hooray for the Phil, they never disappoint.
Mama said
project, number two
Chicken love
When I was
eight years old my parents and I and my brother moved to a five acre “farm” in
the country near my father’s hometown, closer to aunts, uncles and cousins. My parents had evidently read a book called “Five
Acres and Independence” and were inspired to give this country lifestyle a
try.
In addition
to their jobs (mom as a teacher, dad as a carpenter) they raised chickens in
the two chicken coops that came with the property.
I don’t know
if the term ‘free range’ had even been minted at that time, but for some reason
my mother decided that, in addition to the 1200 chickens getting plump and
ready to go to market in the coops, we should have some Banty (more correctly
Bantam) hens running free in our yard. I
think maybe someone gave them to her. How
ever it came about, one spring we were the proud owners of five banty hens and
one tiny but very cocky rooster.
Sometimes we
were able to find eggs still fresh enough to eat but not too often. Banty hens, like most chickens, were not
great flyers, so we were surprised when one of the hens managed to lay six eggs
five feet up in the crotch of a catalpa tree in our front yard. I think Mom (always the teacher) decide this
would be a good learning experience for us, so she let the mama hen hatch those
chicks. Then we started wondering how on
earth she was going to get them out of the nest and down on the ground. Chickens, at any age, are not great
flyers.
We watched
and waited and were lucky enough to see the grand event. About the time their fluff was turning to feathers
Mama Hen literally kicked her chicks out of the nest. Each one hit the grass with a bounce, then
jumped up and scampered off, ready to find their own way and their own food in
the big wide world.
And the
moral of this story is that sometimes our chicks won’t prosper until we are
willing to let them go.
I have been asked to participate in "Mama Said, Mama Said" a 90 minute story telling show, inspired by the national "Listen to Your Mother" movement. It will be presented at First Presbyterian Theater on May 8 and 9, 2026.
Each participant has been asked to write a 300-500 word story or a poem about any experience connected to mothering. Over the next few blogs, I will be writing some rough drafts. Then I'll decide which one to submit. Here's the first one. Please feel free to let me know what you think.
THE TRAIN RIDE
I was born
in December of 1944. World War II was
winding down in Europe. My father, who
was stationed in Brazil, would be coming home soon.
My Mom and
Dad had met when he was an Army sergeant stationed at Aberdeen Proving Grounds near Havre de Grace, Maryland and she was studying
to be a nurse at Johns Hopkins in Baltimore. They were married in 1943.
My father
was sent to Brazil before Mom knew I was on the way. I was 10 months old when he came home.
While my
father was in Brazil, but soon to be discharged they decide (by airmail letters
of course) to move to Fort Wayne, Indiana, near my father’s home town.
Mom loaded
up ten Army footlockers with all their worldly possessions. With the help of several porters, she and I
and all those footlockers boarded an overnight train from Baltimore to Fort
Wayne.
As it
happened, the train-car we were in was full of soldiers going home. All of them were so anxious to get home to their
loved ones (and children they had never met) that, as Mom told it, they took turns holding me all night
long. A fine welcome to Fort Wayne.
Today is our second anniversary, as I mentioned in yesterday's blog, and there is no doubt that I'm a winner in life and in love. My wonder spouse (who makes all this happiness possible) and I celebrated by lunching with friends, then inviting them back to our house for a game of Scrabble.
Here's where the other kind of win comes in. Both of our guests admitted that it had been a long time since they had played Scrabble. Consequently their scores were not very high and winning the game came down to a battle between my spouse and myself. I don't usually share our scores in my blog but this was an unusual circumstance. I was able to use all of my letters in one word giving me a 50 point bonus. My spouse had pulled within 40 points of me by the end of the game and pointed out that, if it hadn't been for my bonus points, he would have won, which might have happened. I guess it was a win win situation, although I am still claiming the victory.
Today, according to my west coast brother, is "Make Your Dream Come True Day." This seems appropriate to me, since this is my anniversary eve. Tomorrow my wonder spouse and I will have been married two years and in many ways it has been a dream come true for me and hopefully for him too.
We were in our late seventies when we were married. It was a second marriage for each of us, so we knew what good marriages were like. Not always dreamy, but always loving. I don't think either of us was dreaming of getting married again but here we are.
We are in the unique situation of being newly weds (two years still counts) and an old married couple, all at the same time.
Many of our mutual dreams revolve around travel. We have enjoyed several trips together and have a positively dreamy trip coming up in the spring. And that won't be the end of it. We will be dreaming of fun things to do, travel included, as long as we can dream of it together.
Every Monday my wonder spouse and I tutor at South Wayne Elementary school. It's a one on one program of the Fort Wayne Community Schools. Each of us tutors a third grade boy.
My wonder spouse's boy is a little bit better reader than mine but the pressure is on to help them both improve their reading skills. This year the school system has decreed that anyone not reading at third grade level by the end of the year will be held back. Actually I think that's a fine idea. Two years ago my spouse tutored a 5th grader who was reading at a kindergarten level. He was passed on to middle school at the end of the year and that should never happen. One of that child's problems was that he needed glasses. My spouse tried every way he knew to get glasses for the boy but all he got was excuses.
Anyway enough complaining. The bottom line is that tutoring is lots of fun. Today was our first session since before Christmas and it was such a joy to be back with my 'tutoree.' He is a dear child and I love every minute I spend with him.
This Coming Wednesday is my wonder spouse's and my second anniversary. I think we might qualify as an old married couple. To prove that premise we have made the following plans for celebrating our anniversary. Hold on to your hats! This is so exciting!!
First we are meeting friends for lunch at Wu's, our favorite Chinese restaurant. Then we will invite the couple with whom we have lunched back to our house for a rousing afternoon playing Scrabble.
It should be an interesting afternoon. One of our guests is a professional author (she has an amazing vocabulary), and the other a retired business attorney. I'm sure his vocabulary is also extensive and filled with examples of legalize.
On the other hand, I have been playing Scrabble almost all my life. During our two years of marriage I have taught the game to my wonder spouse, who has become so good that he wins much more often than he should.
As we were making our plans for the afternoon, the author asked if four letter words are allowed. The answer was yes and yes we will be serving wine. It might become a more interesting afternoon than I had first anticipated. I will report the outcome (win or lose) in my Wednesday blog.
