in case of emergency

just a reminder that winter doesn't last forever

Stuck on Lakeshore Drive in Chicago during a near record breaking snowstorm?

Stuck in Cairo in the midst of demonstrations, rioting and looting?

What would you do?

Do you ever think of worst case scenarios and wonder how to prepare for them?

True confession: I do.

I'm kind of amazed at our new national hero, great grandmother, Mary Thornberry. She was armed and dangerous in her downtown Cairo apartment during the worst of the rioting. A cane, a knife, a rolling pin and boiling water. Never would have thought to fend off thugs with those weapons. What a woman!

~~~~

To be prepared for emergencies, here are some helpful tips:

Emergency supplies for a car kit.

And here are FEMA's recommendations for supplies to have on hand during a disaster. Didn't see a rolling pin on the list though.

Thinking of emergencies reminded me of a day long ago. Daniel and his buddy Steven were involved in the AWANA Olympics. I took them to the event at a school in a nearby town. It was Saturday morning and kids and parents were waiting in eager anticipation of the big event.

Daniel and Steven were out in the main area just off the gym. There is a glass case in this central area. Enclosed is a realistic woodland scene with taxidermied animals native to the Northwoods. The boys were admiring all the 'cool' animals in the case while I was chatting with a friend.

All of a sudden the fire alarm went off. I looked around for the kids only to find them next to the fire alarm. You know, In case of emergency - PULL.

Well, the boys were in first grade...homeschooled...unfamiliar with the ways of 'real' school...and just learning how to read. I won't say who PULLed the alarm, but it wasn't my kid.

We had to evacuate the school....even though we knew there wasn't a fire.

It took a long time to get back to the AWANA Olympics.

It took an even longer time for Steven to live down his part in the chaos (the sign said PULL, he was just being obedient).

time to laugh

We have reached the stage where, though we are still faced with difficult situations round about us, we notice that life goes on.

Floors must be washed. Laundry done. Tax information must be gathered.

Today I'll be attending to some mundane tasks like that.

And smiling at a friend's sense of humor.

He posted this on facebook:

1. Go to Google maps and get directions.
2. Write USA as your starting point.
3. Write Japan as your destination.
4. Go to the 31st point on your route.
5. Enjoy.
6. Now you'll be in shape for #46.

sunny day

One of my piano students brought me some sheet music from Sesame Street.

I spent an inordinate amount of time playing 'Rubber Duckie' and the theme from Sesame Street yesterday.

Does that make me a dork? I'm thinking, 'yes'.

mpbflmph

From our pink dogwood tree (for you, Becky!)

Its off to the dentist for me again this morning. One more, final (I sure hope!) extraction.

Hopefully I won't develop dry socket this time (or as my friend called it - dry rot - lol).

I sure have had fun these past few weeks - teeth extractions, colonoscopy...Like they say:
'Gettin' old ain't for sissies!'

embarrassment at church. a haiku

Messy windblown hair.
Check the mirror, then, oh no
Sign on the door? MEN

prepared

Periodically, I yammer on in my blog posts about the importance of buying things on sale and stocking up.

It appears that someone has actually been listening:

picture from homesteading today

~~~~~
And, if you are not sure what to prepare for supper, check out Kelly's new blog.
Kelly is my daughter-in-law Kristi's sister and will have all kinds of yummy ideas for y'all.
~~~~~
Please notice the new widget on my sidebar. Not only are we counting the days 'til our granddaughter's arrival, we are preparing for Pat's retirement. Won't be long now!

a long rambling post about regional dialects

depending on where you are from, these mountains are purdy, preddy or pretty

Another reason I enjoyed watching the Olympics – especially hockey- was hearing the old familiar ‘northwoods’ accent.

I have always enjoyed listening to people’s accents and trying to discover where they are from. This probably started when I was in college and on a summer singing team (1973, remember, Kathee?). One night we stayed at a home in Ypsilanti, MI. The lady we stayed with had a decidedly southern accent. She sounded like my grandmother.

When I asked her where she was from and she responded ‘southern Illinois’ and I said where in southern Illinois and she said Metropolis, I nearly jumped out of my skin.

“Do you know Birdie Lingle?” I asked.

Know her? she responded. “ I lived right next to their produce warehouse.”

“She’s my grandmother,” I practically shouted.

“You’re Carolee’s girl? I taught your daddy how to diaper you!”

She proceeded to bring out a shoebox of photographs. Sho’ ‘nuff, there were photos of my grandma, my long deceased grandpa (he died when Mom was 19) and mom. We called Grandma that night and it was great fun reuniting these friends.

So ever since that wonderful, serendipitous occasion, when I meet new people, I hang on their words to discern their origins. If you tell me you are going to ‘pahk the cah’ or course that is somewhere in the northeast. ‘R’s are often a giveaway (warsh the car), as are ‘o’s and ‘I’s’. I usually have a pretty good idea if you are from the northeast, southeast Ohio, Kintucky, Tinnessee, or Minnesoata (intentional misspellings). Or Canada, eh?

Hockey in the northwoods is not really called hockey. It’s ‘hahckey’. And I loved hearing it called that again, if only for a few weeks.

There is one other accent I can pretty easily identify, From an email forwarded to my parents:

1. Grachki (grach'-key): Chicagoese for 'garage key' as in, 'Yo, Theresa, waja do wit da grachki? How my supposta cut da grass if I don't git intada grach?'


2. Sammich: Chicagoese for sandwich. When made with sausage, it's a sassage sammich; when made with shredded beef, it's an Italian Beef sammich, a local delicacy consisting of piles of spicy meat in a perilously soggy bun.

3. Da: This article is a key part of Chicago speech, as in 'Da Bears' or 'Da Mare' -- the latter denoting Richard M. Daley, or Richie, as he's often called.

4. Jewels: Not family heirlooms, but a popular name for one of the region's dominant grocery store chains. 'I'm goin' to the Jewels to pick up some sassage.'

5. Field's: Marshall Field, a prominent Chicago department store. Also Carson Pirie Scott, another major department store chain, is simply called ' Carson 's.'

6. Tree: The number between two and four. 'We were lucky dat we only got tree inches of snow da udder night.'

7. Over by dere: Translates to 'over by there,' a way of emphasizing a site presumed familiar to the listener. As in, 'I got the sassage at the Jewels down on Kedzie, over by dere.'

8. Kaminski Park : The mispronounced name of the ballpark where the Chicago White Sox (da Sox) play baseball. Comiskey Park was renamed U.S. Cellular Field (da Cell)

9. Frunchroom: As in, 'Get outta da frunchroom wit dose muddy shoes.' It's not the 'parlor.' It's not the 'living room.' In the land of the bungalow, it's the 'frunchroom,' a named derived, linguists believe, from 'front room.'

10. Use: Not the verb, but the plural pronoun 'you!' 'Where use goin'?'

11. Downtown: Anywhere near The Lake, south of The Zoo (Lincoln Park Zoo) and north of Soldier Field.

12. The Lake: Lake Michigan. (What other lake is there?) It's often used by local weathermen, 'cooler by The Lake.'

14. Braht: Short for Bratwurst. 'Gimme a braht wit kraut.'

15. Goes: Past or present tense of the verb 'say.' For example, 'Den he goes, 'I like this place'!'

16. Guys: Used when addressing two or more people, regardless of each individual's gender.

17. Pop: A soft drink. Don't say 'soda' in this town. 'Do ya wanna canna pop?'

18 Sliders: Nickname for hamburgers from White Castle, a popular Midwestern burger chain. 'Dose sliders I had last night gave me da runs'

19. The Taste: The Taste of Chicago Festival, a huge extravaganza in Grant Park featuring samples of Chicagoland cuisine which takes place each year around the Fourth of July holiday.

20. 'Jeetyet?': Translates to, 'Did you eat yet?'

21. Winter and Construction: Punch line to the joke, 'What are the two seasons in Chicago ?'

22. Cuppa Too-Tree: is Chicagoese for 'a couple, two, three' which really means 'a few.' For example, 'Hey Mike, dere any beerz left in da cooler over by dere?' 'Yeh, a cuppa too-tree.'

23. 588-2300: Everyone in Chicago knows this commercial jingle and the carpet company you'll get if you call that number -- Empire!

24. Junk Dror: You will usually find the 'junk drawer' in the kitchen filled to the brim with miscellaneous, but very important, junk.

25. Southern Illinois: Anything south of I-80. This is where Smothers' is from...

26. Expressways: The Interstates in the immediate Chicagoland area are usually known just by their 'name' and not their Interstate number: the Dan Ryan ('da Ryan'), the Stevenson, the Kennedy (da 'Kennedy'), the Eisenhower (da 'Ike'), and the Edens (just 'Edens' but Da Edens' is acceptable).

27. Gym Shoes: The rest of the country may refer to them as sneakers or running shoes but Chicagoans will always call them gym shoes!

Having lived in the 'Chicawgo' area from 1968-1978 and again from 1983-1986, I completely understood all 27 of these definitions. And now I have an irrational urge to go call Empire (588-2300....Empire!).

seemed like a good idea at the time...

In anticipation of Pat's upcoming retirement, we decided to go to the doctor and get some routine tests done (while our current insurance would pay for them).

So,we are in the process of doing that. My blood work came back fine, except I have hypothyroidism. Great. Now, I have to take medication. The good news about hypothyroidism is that you get to blame weight gain on that. I'm all about blaming something besides myself for these extra pounds.

But I'm very thankful that my cholesterol is good, kidney and liver function good and all that other stuff.

It was recommended that I have a bone density scan, being a woman of a certain age. The test is no big deal. You just lay still on a table for several minutes. I can do that.

That was the easy part. The not so easy part is digesting the news that I have severe osteoporosis in my right hip and lower spine.

I was always told that weight bearing exercise, like walking,would help prevent osteoporosis. So much for 20 years of walking three miles a day. On the other hand, just think how bad off I would be if I didn't exercise! And I'd be fat, too. Oh, wait I can blame that on hypothyroidism. :)

Information is power, though, and while I am not thrilled to have osteo, at least I know and can do something about it. I'll take my pills like a good girl. Hopefully I can 'stop and reverse bone loss' just like Gidget.

Can't wait for my colonoscopy now.

breaking out in song

Monday night sunset

One of my sisters has a (well-deserved) reputation breaks out into song at the drop of a hat.

All you have to do is mention the word, for example, 'hill' and she delivers a full-voiced-Julie-Andrews-style rendition of the 'The Hills are Alive with the Sound of Music'. And it will most likely be the whole song - not just the first line or two.

It is what we love about her.

I read an article in Sunday's paper about a waitress who does the same thing.

"A jovial waitress was serving another customer, a darkly handsome businessman in a turtleneck and dress pants. She asked his hometown. When he answered Newark, NJ, she didn't miss a beat.

'Start spreading the news, I'm leaving today,'

she sang a capella, in a remarkably good voice full of gusto and gladness."

article from Knoxville's News Sentinel by Rhetta Grimsley Johnson
(full article here)

That is so 'Suzi'.

Makes you smile (and maybe duck your head in embarrassment if other folks are around).

My wish for you today is that you have a wonderful day. A day that makes you want to break out in song.

And that, instead of fighting that temptation, you will give in and go for it.

Go ahead - sing with a voice full of gusto and gladness!

flour power

Last week, I made a quick stop at the grocery store to pick up a few things. I noticed flour was on sale, so I deposited a five pound bag in my shopping tote.

Yesterday, after a very productive morning, I decided to do some baking. My new plan, rather than store baked goods in our freezer where they are in easy reach, was to take the baked goods down to Mom and Dad's freezer. They, being more, ahem, mature, are more self-disciplined than the people who live in this house.

I prepared two loaves of cranberry bread and popped them into the oven; then decided that as long as the kitchen was still messed up and the oven was hot I would make a pan of brownies.

In a few minutes I slid the brownies on the rack below the bread.

Timer set, I went on to my next project. About ten minutes later, I thought I smelled something burning. Impossible, I thought. The bread had at least a half hour to go - the brownies were only half way through their baking time.

I was dismayed when I opened the oven. The bread had oozed over the tops of the pans and spilled onto the brownies below as well as the oven floor.

After removing the messy, overflowing pans, I chipped away at the burned dough at the bottom of the oven.

Pat gamely tried the bread but when I heard the words 'too salty' and 'bitter after taste', I knew my baking was beyond salvaging.

The problem? I dug the empty flour bag out of the garbage and now noticed what I had not noticed before. The 'sale' flour was self-rising flour. To which I added baking soda and baking powder. Recipe for disaster.

Live and learn. Nice to know that at the ripe old age of 55 I can still learn things, huh?

But thankfully, the day was not a total loss. I finished the stockings for the grandbabes:

click to enlarge

The picture (they are hung on great-grandma's rocker) doesn't do them justice. I loved doing them and I loved how they turned out. And I am sorely tempted to keep them. Does that make me a bad grandma?

They were pretty labor intensive, the heels and the toes are quilted in a grid pattern. I made the bias binding with the instructions given in Amy Karol's Bend the Rules Sewing Book. (This kind of explains the process - be sure to read to the end) I think I have a new hobby - bias binding making. Great fun and the custom bindings add charm and character that you just don't get from the pre-packaged stuff.

And bias bindings don't blow up in the oven.
~~~~~
The rest of the self-rising flour? Shall be redeemed.

reduce

A week from today I fly to Minnesota to take care of this little cutie who apparently is afraid he will lose his place:


Since I am a tightwad, I will not be checking any luggage. It costs $15 for one bag - each way. That is $30 people! And that can be much better spent on fabric or chocolate, I mean... groceries. Yeah.

So I did a trial run yesterday - packing my carry-on with everything I would need for a week. Hmmm. That's not gonna work. Tried again. And again. I think I've got it now. When you pack for Minnesota in late fall - you need to take some substantial clothing. No tank tops and shorts. Thankfully Suzi is about the same size as I am.

Trying to limit my baggage reminded me of a blog I read a few years ago. This gal and I are worlds apart life-style-wise, but I thought her concept of wearing the same dress everyday for a year was interesting.

As a society we have way too much stuff. And I'm as guilty as anyone. So instead of packing for every possible eventuality - I'm keepin' it simple. Joshy won't care.

How 'bout you? How do you pack for a trip? Take everything but the kitchen sink - or keep it simple?
~~~~
We watched a special honoring Bill Cosby on PBS last night. What a funny man. They replayed some of his old comedy bits and it was a hoot to see Jack Benny fall off his chair laughing as Cosby ramped it up on the Dick Cavett show. Well.

I was hoping they would play his bit in which he is convinced his mother is trying to kill him by feeding him Cream of Wheat with lumps in it. Funny, funny stuff. What is your favorite Cosby routine?

why do birds suddenly appear?

Instead of meeting Randy and Ann in Townsend, I went all the way to Pigeon Forge. The revised plan was that I would meet Ann and her three friends from high school at the Burger King and we would venture out from there.

We made contact via cell phone, I told them I was waiting out front, they said they were just pulling into the parking lot.

I did not see them. They did not see me.

Turns out Pigeon Forge has more than one Burger King. Who knew?

When we finally got ourselves at the same Burger King, I climbed into Ann's van and we went to the cabin they were staying in. We walked, we ate, we sat on the porch overlooking a 'holler' and just enjoyed visiting.

Then we girls decided to brave the twin cities (read: tourist traps) of Gatlinburg and Pigeon Forge.

First stop was this pottery shop.
Beautiful pottery. I could have looked and looked and lightened our bank account by quite a bit, but I called on all the self-discipline I could muster and refrained. While the other gals bought, Ann and I sat out on the deck on a bench under a shade tree.

My reward for my self-control? As Ann and I chatted, I felt something first on my head and then on my shoulder. Some little bird perched in the tree above decided to let me know what it thought of me. Eeewwww.

Back into the pottery shop I went, seeking a bathroom so I could clean up. The shopkeeper thanked me for not making a fuss and when I expressed that it certainly wasn't her fault and no one could blame her, she said 'you'd be surprised'.

Along the way down the mountain there were several groups of shops. This, before we even got to Gatlinburg proper. We randomly stopped at one grouping and found some very nice shops. Including this beauty. I may have bought a little bit of fabric here, throwing self-control out the window since it had been so negatively reinforced earlier.

I hope to get back to this little shop. My aunts and cousins will be here in a few weeks and I think I can at least talk one of them into stopping and checking out all the luscious fabric.

All too soon, our time was over and Ann and the gals dropped me off at my car. A good time was had by all.

Now, I may disparage Pigeon Forge and Gatlinburg as tourist traps and they are. Especially if you stay on the main drag. You know, you've seen one garishly decorated mini-golf course, you've seen them all. But if you get off the main drag there are all kinds of delightful shops. You could go shopping every day for months, I would guess, and never enter the same place twice.

However, and let this be our little secret, I really enjoy shopping in these towns. And I don't like shopping!

C'mon down and see us. I'll take you shopping. But please understand if I don't sit on any benches under trees.

laughing out loud

It is fall today! Despite the fact that our azalea is in full bloom (it is a little mixed up - but beautiful)...we can declare today fall. I had to don a sweatshirt for my morning walk - it is 47*. Hooray for crisp morning air - hooray for fall!
~~~~
We are so enjoying and appreciating our interim pastor. He has a great sense of humor, or at least my type of sense of humor, and I find myself laughing out loud several times a sermon.

He is an oxymoron as far as Southern Baptist preachers go. He likes to listen to NPR (pretty sure Southern Baptist pastors are not part of their demographic). He is not afraid to chide Baptists for being well - stereotypical Baptists. Argumentative, judgmental, overfed. I am sure he gets into trouble for this, but I find it refreshing.

He loves his job. He said this on Sunday:

I can't believe they pay me to teach the Bible.
Those silly people - they never asked.
I would have done it for free.

His love for the LORD and His Word are evident and make listening to him such a pleasure. A very convicting pleasure at times. He sends home a point with a smile and you hear the still, small voice of the Holy Spirit saying, "Did you hear that? That is what I want you to work on."

The church has a candidate coming in next weekend, so I think our days with this interim pastor are limited. We will miss him.
~~~~
Jon and Kristi are done negotiating on the offer they got on their house. Home inspection is next and then, if all goes well - the closing! Thank you LORD!
~~~~
I laughed out loud when I read this post in Karen's blog. Probably struck me especially funny because we are studying Leviticus right now.

Enjoy reading!

dear diary

Running out early this morning to work at the food pantry. I thought you might enjoy this:

EXCERPTS FROM A DOG'S DIARY:

Day number 180
8:00 am - OH BOY! DOG FOOD! MY FAVORITE!
9:30 am - OH BOY! A CAR RIDE! MY FAVORITE!
9:40 am - OH BOY! A WALK! MY FAVORITE!
10:30 am - OH BOY! A CAR RIDE! MY FAVORITE!
11:30 am - OH BOY! DOG FOOD! MY FAVORITE!
12:00 noon - OH BOY! THE KIDS! MY FAVORITE!
1:00 pm - OH BOY! THE YARD! MY FAVORITE!
4:00 pm - OH BOY! THE KIDS! MY FAVORITE!
5:00 PM - OH BOY! DOG FOOD! MY FAVORITE!
5:30 PM - OH BOY! MOM! MY FAVORITE!

Day number 181
8:00 am - OH BOY! DOG FOOD! MY FAVORITE!
9:30 am - OH BOY! A CAR RIDE! MY FAVORITE!
9:40 am - OH BOY! A WALK! MY FAVORITE!
10:30 am - OH BOY! A CAR RIDE! MY FAVORITE!
11:30 am - OH BOY! DOG FOOD! MY FAVORITE!
12:00 noon - OH BOY! THE KIDS! MY FAVORITE!
1:00 pm - OH BOY! THE YARD! MY FAVORITE!
4:00 pm - OH BOY! THE KIDS! MY FAVORITE!
5:00 PM - OH BOY! DOG FOOD! MY FAVORITE!
5:30 PM - OH BOY! MOM! MY FAVORITE!

Day number 182
8:00 am - OH BOY! DOG FOOD! MY FAVORITE!
9:30 am - OH BOY! A CAR RIDE! MY FAVORITE!
9:40 am - OH BOY! A WALK! MY FAVORITE!
10:30 am - OH BOY! A CAR RIDE! MY FAVORITE!
11:30 am - OH BOY! DOG FOOD! MY FAVORITE!
12:00 noon - OH BOY! THE KIDS! MY FAVORITE!
1:00 pm - OH BOY! THE YARD! MY FAVORITE!
1:30 pm - ooooooo. bath. bummer.
4:00 pm - OH BOY! THE KIDS! MY FAVORITE!
5:00 PM - OH BOY! DOG FOOD! MY FAVORITE!
5:30 PM - OH BOY! MOM! MY FAVORITE!

EXCERPTS FROM A CAT'S DIARY:

Day number 152
My captors continue to taunt me with bizarre little dangling objects. They dine lavishly on fresh meat, while I am forced to eat dry cereal. The only thing that keeps me going is the hope of escape, and the mild satisfaction I get from ruining the occasional piece of furniture. Tomorrow I may eat another houseplant.

Day number 761
Today my attempt to kill my captors by weaving around their feet while they were walking almost succeeded. (Must try this at the top of the stairs.) In an attempt to disgust and repulse these vile oppressors, I once again induced myself to vomit on their favorite chair. (Must try this on their bed.)

Day number 762
Slept all day so that I could annoy my captors with sleep depriving, incessant pleas for food at ungodly hours of the night.

Day number 765
Decapitated a mouse and brought them the headless body, in attempt to make them aware of what I am capable of, and to try to strike fear into their hearts. They only cooed and condescended about what a good little cat I was. Hmmm. Not working according to plan...

Day number 768
I am finally aware of how sadistic they are. For no good reason I was chosen for the water torture. This time however it included a burning foamy chemical called "shampoo." What sick minds could invent such a liquid? My only consolation is the piece of thumb still stuck between my teeth.

Day number 771
There was some sort of gathering of their accomplices. I was placed in solitary throughout the event. More importantly I overheard that my confinement was due to MY power of "allergies." Must learn what this is and how to use it to my advantage.

Day number 774
I am convinced the other captives are flunkies and maybe snitches. The Dog is routinely released and seems more than happy to return. He is obviously a half-wit. The Bird on the other hand has got to be an informant. He has mastered their frightful tongue (something akin to mole speak) and speaks with them regularly. I am certain he reports my every move. Due to his current placement in the hanging metal room, his safety is assured. But I can wait, it is only a matter of time.

(I should mention that this is not original to me (I wish...) found it *somewhere* (where was that?) in my world wide web wanderings.)

well writing

I done did hear this blurb on the radio last week. Me thought it funny, so I is writing it out for you to read for yourselfs.

Today marks the 50th anniversary of William Strunk and E.B. White's Elements of Style, the grammar manual used by millions of students, including commentator Marc Acito.

Me and a friend was talking about using proper grammar. And he says to I, "Today is the 50th anniversary of Strunk and White's Elements of Style."

So I got me a copy and totally mesmerized this vast suppository of information. For instance, Strunk and White says, "Write with nouns and verbs." Myself, for one, is relieved to know this, as I have been trying to write with macaroni and cheese.

And it is never recommended to willfully and recklessly — because it puts undue emphasis on the adverb — split an infinitive.

Oops. You might have just heard out of the corner of your ear that the passive voice was used by myself. It is to be avoided. Unless you are the CEO of a bank, in which case you cannot do your job without saying "mistakes were made."

Other rules they learned me were to not verbify a word by adding a suffix. Avoid cliches like the plague. Use adverbs sparingly. And do not speak in the negative.

They also recommend using language that is definite, specific and concrete. So don't say, "We had a period of bad weather." Say, "Every definite day for a week it rained concrete." See how that sentence is kinda, y'know, specific? More or less?

Strunk and White continues to update their book, even though both of them are dead. But some of their advice is old-fashioned and, frankly, downright arachnophobic.

For instance, they say to keep related words together. That's fine for all intensive purposes, but what if one of your related words empties your bank account and goes to Atlantic City and loses all your money at the blackjack table? Yeah, that word is dead to me. And you know who you are, grandma.

When it comes to "shall" and "will," Strunk and White gives the following example: "A swimmer in distress cries, 'I shall drown; no one will save me!' " But a suicide says, "I will drown; no one shall save me!" And I say, "You two (pedantic) know-it-alls deserve to drown." I mean, what about "Help!"

And with regarding the difference between lie and lay — no one actually knows the difference, but politicians do both.

So who needs a manual to write real good? In the age of tweeting and texting, Elements of Style deserves to fade into Bolivia.

The source of the article and info about the author can be finded here.

~~~~~

The homeschoolers amongst you may want to print out this article and have your students find all the the grammatical errors. But maybe you do that with my blog already. That why you missed me, Linda?

~~~~~

To my Northwoods friends: I am so sorry about your weather. How many inches of snow did you end up getting? Snow is much prettier in December than April. If you want to see a picture look here.

that was a good one

Thoroughly enjoyed yesterday. I returned to my aerobics class after a three week hiatus and had a good work out.

After class, I was able to successfully accomplish the errands I wanted to run. Once home I spent the rest of the day playing in the dirt. I thinned the lettuce and radishes and planted a succession crop. I weeded (hand digging dozens and dozens of little wild garlic bulbs) and prepared another bed for planting. Borrowed the tractor and mowed the lawn. I finally came in late afternoon and got cleaned up for choir practice.

It was a good practice. We have worked hard and last night's dress rehearsal enabled us to see what the whole program will look like. During the Hosanna/Blessed Be the Name of the Lord medley a group of 'townspeople' will be walking in, talking and laughing and greeting the man playing Jesus. It was fun to watch out of the corner of my eye.

Then for the final song 'All Rise/Holy, Holy, Holy, /Crown Him with Many Crowns medley the costumed 'angels' will come in and lift their hands in worship. The man playing Jesus will be standing in the baptistry. The plan was for the choir to also turn and raise their hands.

The choir director told us for that number (which is lengthy and difficult) to be effective we would really need to have the piece memorized. We sat in stunned silence. Here, four days before the program, he was telling us to memorize this number.



"APRIL FOOL!" he shouted.

He got us.

forget me not?

She looked to be about my age. She was standing in the Malwart parking lot, hand extended and sweeping across the parking lot; clicking away on the panic button on her car keys.

"Can't remember where you parked?" I asked.

She smiled.

"Been there, done that," I commiserated.

~~~~~~

There was a cup of coffee on the counter at the gas station when I paid for my once a week cappuccino (which is mostly hot chocolate with a touch of french vanilla coffee to help me feel more like a grown-up).

I pointed it out to the clerk. She laughed.

"That's Danny's. He went out of here a few minutes ago and left without paying. Came back in and paid and I guess he left without coffee."

~~~~~

Our neighbor reportedly shot a skunk the other night. Upon further examination he discovered that the varmit was only a piece of black plastic. A now very dead piece of black plastic. Ooops. He will most likely not hear the end of this.

~~~~~

I put Mom and Dad's garbage out last night. But not before their across the street neighbor got his out. Sorry, Mom and Dad. Didn't mean to let you down. Competition is pretty fierce amongst the retirees in the 'hood.

~~~~~

You will all be very disappointed to learn, after all these riveting stories, that I will not be posting tomorrow.

Because I am getting my long-suffering-not-a-morning-person husband up at dark-thirty to take me to the airport so I can fly to Minneapolis where I will be met by sister Suzi.

Posting from the road in a few days if I remember....

where stereotypes are born

Popcorn Sutton and still

One of the local news stories getting play around here lately is the arrest of local folk hero and moonshiner Popcorn Sutton.

Mr. Sutton was arrested for making 'shine and being in possession of a fair number of firearms (presumably not properly registered). Yep, the 'revenooers' finally caught up with him. I am sure it had nothing to do with the fact that he has produced an instructional video on how to make moonshine or that he has published a book: "Me and my Likker." (Not an endorsement.)They discovered three vats capable of holding 1000 gallons of your beverage of choice each.

Now to my Northwoods friends, who are accustomed to seeing a tavern on every corner, this may not seem like a big deal. But we've got dry counties down here (not all, but some) and makin' shine is agin' the law.

You can read some more of Popcorn's story here.

My point? Popcorn looks like the stereotypical backwoods moonshiner in my opinion. And he works it to his advantage. His lawyer asked for leniency in sentencing, saying that prison could be detrimental to his health because of his advanced age ( he is a year younger than someone who lives in this house). The lawyer requested house arrest ( where he got into trouble in the first place?).

Speaking of stereotypes and lest you think I am being too hard on Mr. Sutton, I fulfilled some stereotypical expectations myself just yesterday.

First of all, I put some stuff in the car prior to my trip into town. While doing so, I accidentally leaned on the car horn. Loud and long. In my garage. Which is attached to my house. Where my husband works, talking throughout the day with various department heads in the CIA, FBI, NCIS, Secret Service and Homeland Security ( I can't tell you exactly what he does or I'd have to ....well, you know). Anyway, thankfully, he was not on the phone when I laid on the horn. So he did not have to explain my blond behavior to any government employees.

Not more than a half hour later I was wandering around the house looking for my glasses. They were not in any of the usual places. Not even here:

Instead, after several minutes, I found them in my left hand. Yeah, the whole time I was searching. Talk about a senior moment. As you can see by the silver (not gray, thank you very much) hairs mixed in with the blond, I can blame moments like this on air-headedness or my age.

Worst of all, I spent several minutes trying to get just the right shot of my glasses on my head. Bloggers have been accused of being somewhat narcissistic.

I think I just fulfilled another stereotype.

totally losing it

That bank statement. The one I mentioned in yesterday's post. Put it Somewhere Special I said. To balance later.

Imagine my surprise when it arrived in the mail yesterday. Yes, the statement I thought I had put somewhere had actually never even arrived.

I'm scaring myself.
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In other news, Mom is doing really well. Too bad we can't say the same for her oldest daughter.

losing it

Did you know that the average person spends about an hour a day searching for things? Ever wonder how they figure something like that out? I'm pretty sure it is by following me around and counting the minutes I spend looking for stuff. 'Specially this past month.

When we first moved here, there were no safety deposit boxes available at our bank. So we kept all of our Very Important Papers in a Special Spot. When the bank notified us that a box was available, we took our Very Important Papers from the Special Spot and took them to the bank.

It was then that we discovered that the Very Importantest Paper was missing.

Tore the house apart looking for it. Pat found it.

Then there was the missing car key situation. We ALWAYS put our car keys in the same place. One day we discovered that we were missing a set of car keys.

Tore the house apart looking for it. Pat found it.

Then, I could not find my glasses. Tore the house apart looking for them. Pat was working so I was on my own.

Couldn't find them here. Because they were at Mom and Dad's. Now they are on a granny chain around my neck.

Next, I could not find our latest bank statement. I put it in a Special Place awaiting the day (which should have been yesterday) when I had a chunk of time to balance the checkbook. Looked and looked and looked for it. I had to get another copy from the bank.

I could have asked Pat to help me, but I don't want him to think that I'm losing it.

Even though I am.