Back in the Day

Back in the day has moved...

2007-04-08T14:53:00.000-05:00

to a new home over here. I'm just getting settled in, but I would love it if you would come by and see me!

Old Pipes and Easter

2007-04-07T18:00:00.000-05:00

Most project-type crises around our place seem to happen at the most inopportune times. Not that any time is really a good time for a crisis, and not that we really have big plans for Easter, but it is a cooking holiday nonetheless. Determined not to call a plumber right off the bat, particularly on holiday weekend dollars, Willi and Cali are fast at work on the kitchen sink. Most projects we begin this way end up far larger than we bargained for, mainly because one problem generally leads to another due to the age of this house and its innards. I can relate since the house and me are about the same age.

Easter seems to be kind of a non-holiday these days. All of our kids are past the age for egg hunts and baskets, and we do not have any grandbabies. Back in the day it was a pretty big deal. What seemed like HUGE Easter baskets would sit on the mantel ready to be devoured when we got up. My mom was great at filling them. I especially remember those little wax pop bottles filled with some kind of juice, egg shaped malted milk candies, and lots and lots of chocolate. Oh, and there were Pez, too. My mom would put dinner in the oven before church so that it would be ready when we got home. The smell of dinner would knock our socks off when we walked through the door. Everyone went to church; even my dad. And we were all dressed to the nines. I don't remember much about church really except that as I got older the connection between Jesus and candy didn't seem to make much sense. It still doesn't.

How's this for a bag of mixed emotions? This blurry picture was taken Easter Sunday after church with Gram. My son has it down pretty good, but Sarah is not the least bit interested in the bunny or the picture either one. I love this picture. Usually Josh was unhappy and Sarah had the pretty smile, but not so here. Thankfully, I don't often see that look in the eyes of the strong young woman she has grown up to be.

Easter reminds me of the story of the Velveteen Rabbit; one of my favorites. I also remember one of the little neighbor girls, Stacy, telling me all about her skeeter baggit. She went on and on. Much of what she said I could not understand, but she talked and I listened just the same. A few days later I saw her mom and told her all about our lovely conversation, which turned out to be about her Easter basket. I still giggle when I think of it. I saw her just a few weeks ago with her dad and her son. He is getting ready for kindergarten. Time sure does go by. It seems like yesterday that Willi's daughter and I were making bunny cakes. Now she's in high school!

It looks as though we will be seeing a plumber the first of the week. That's ok. After giving it a valiant effort, Willi is smoking ribs and Sarah is bringing plastic plates for our pre-Easter dinner. Not having running water in the kitchen is kinda sorta like camping. Well it's not that the water isn't running...it just doesn't have anyplace to go! Oh, well. A few years from now this will be one of those Easter rememberings! Hope your day is a good one.

Aloha from Nashville

2007-04-01T19:48:00.000-05:00

Disclaimer: This is not a paid advertisement for Tin Pan South, even though it may look like one! For the third time Willi and I have had vacation days that coincide with the songwriter's festival. Once again, we have come away feeling like it was better than ever. I'm going to roll through the shows we were able to attend. I've linked to pages that will give you an idea of some of the great music we heard. Sadly enough there are eight other shows going on at the same time and the choices are really tough to make. There were no disappointments here...

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Tuesday, First Show at the Mercy Lounge:
Benefit for the New Orleans Songwriting Community
Grayson Capps

Dr. John

The first time I heard Dr. John was in high school. I dug out my GRIS-gris album which was originally issued in 1968. He's changed some since then. But then again, so have I. This was a great way to start Tin Pan South. We have just started hearing Grayson Capps on XM Radio and pairing him with Dr. John was a real treat. There were good folk there from the New Orleans NSAI chapter which brought the benefit even closer to home.

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Tuesday, Second Show at the Mercy Lounge:
Gibson Baldwin's Texans in Tennessee

Gary Nicholson, Lee Roy Parnell , Leslie Satcher,
Jon Randall, Jessi Alexander

We all came to see Lee Roy Parnell, but there were other draws as well. Willi was anxious to see Gary Nicholson, and for the life of me I couldn't figure out why...that is until partway through the show when I remembered that we have an incredible CD he recorded under that name of Whitey Johnson. My pick here was Jon Randall. We saw him at our first Tin Pan South and his new CD is outstanding. You may remember him as a member of the Nash Ramblers playing with Emmylou Harris earlier on. I was not familiar with Leslie Satcher or Jessi Alexander, but plan to be. John David Souther was scheduled for this show, but was unable to attend. I have followed him from way back in his own singing career, through Souther, Hillman and Furay, and enjoyed his writing for the Eagles and Linda Ronstadt. Wish he could have been there.

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Wednesday, First Show at 3rd and Lindsley

ASCAP Songwriter of the Year Rivers Rutherford,
Anthony Smith, Tammi Kidd, Radney Foster

This was definitely one of those shows where I was not on the same page as most of the others attending. At least not in the beginning. In fact when we were waiting in line to get in, a big black Hummer pulled up on alongside us on the curb and the occupant got out and came over to the couple in front of us to say hello. Then he told Willi and I he was glad we came out to the show. We both smiled and nodded and then looked at each other for a clue. What a nice guy. He turned out to be Anthony Smith. We were probably the only ones at the show that didn't know who he was...that is until he started singing the songs he wrote. Sheesh. Both he and Rivers Rutherford have songs recorded by the biggest country stars. Radney Foster was our choice here. He is another one I have been listening to for years - back in the day when I had to check new music out at the library...the cassette was Foster and Lloyd, now out of print.

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Wednesday, Second Show at the French Quarter

Bonnie Baker, Troy Johnson, Mando Saenz, Lisa Carver

Troy Johnson, Bonnie Baker

I Googled Bonnie Baker and ended up on her myspace page. Her music stole me away. Sometimes there are slots where we know right off the bat which show we want to go to. For others we start searching to learn a little more. This turned out to be a great show. I have since found that Troy Johnson has a CD available, but nothing by Bonnie Baker and I'm sorry for that.

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Thursday at the Bluebird

Jon Randall, Danny Flowers
(on left not pictured Darrell Scott, Kevin Welch)

"A thin place is anywhere our hearts are opened. To use sacramental language, a thin place is a sacrament of the sacred, a mediator of the sacred, a means whereby the sacred becomes present to us. A thin place is a means of grace." -This is how Marcus Borg, a theologian we are fond of, describes a "thin place". Daddy D, if you are reading this, you will remember that we talked about this one Sunday. The music we heard this night surrounded me and lifted me up. I cannot explain it. It was a thin place for me if there ever was one.

These pictures are not very good. In the top picture you cannot see Kevin Welch because he is sitting so close. You can see his empty chair in the picture below.

Darrell Scott and Jon Randall

Darrell Scott is the best. That's all there is to it. His lyrics say what I feel and the guitar and mandolin seem to be extensions of his being. All four of these gentlemen were such talented musicians that they accompanied each other as they went the rounds from one to another. It was like sitting in a living room where four friends were playing together. It just doesn't get any better than this.

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Friday at 3rd and Lindsley

Sacha Skarbek, Jeff Cohen, Sherrie Austin, Chris Barron

This was our last show, but what an interesting story here. I wanted to see Chris Barron; you might remember him from the Spin Doctors. Willi was looking forward to seeing Jeff Cohen. We both had made a good choice and the show was another great one. The fun here was behind the scenes. One of the people we shared a table with drew my attention to the next table over, talking about Nick Lachey. I had no clue who he was until he mentioned MTV and a show he was in when he was married to Jessica Simpson. OK - now I got it, and so did a lot of other people. By the time the show was through we could not get out because of the gawkers. Poor guy. It turns out they were right though according to this article.

If you have made it this far, you are probably my daughter or music lovers like Willi and me. If so, maybe we will see you next year at Tin Pan South.

Great Answers!

2007-03-21T16:27:00.000-05:00

Bravo to all of you for playing along; I had such a great time reading your guesses. Thanks for the fun! Here is the rest of the story...

#1. Me: "That's cool...wonder what that is?", as I take a picture. Willi knew what it was. Do you?

Maybe if there was a bike hooked up to this I would have caught on a little more quickly. Probably not. Then of course I got close enough to read the sign. Enough said about that.

#2. This had a life of it's own, and some pretty powerful sound effects. Have you ~~seen~~ heard this before? I hadn't.

I know bathroom humor is really not politically correct. Butt, I had neither seen nor heard "chrome push button dual flush technology". Our fixtures here are over 50 years old, and original. I really do need to get out more often. Although I managed to surmise the intended use, I had no idea that the force and sound would resemble a rocket launch. Willi's reaction was "3... 2... 1... FIRE IN THE HOLE"!

#3. This was pretty cool...but I bet it's not what you think! Give it a guess...

These wonderful characters are actually bourbon bottles and were part of an exhibition at Louisville Stoneware coinciding with a conference of the National Council on Education for the Ceramic Arts. No wonder they use the acronym NCECA.

They also had a companion exhibit of shot glasses called "By the Ounce". Here was Willi's favorite.

#4. Sounds like a scary place, but what the heck is a fallover? And if you are not responsible, who is?

Ah, Debi you sly one. You Googled! Me too - as soon as we got home; the curiosity was killing me. You are right...it is as sign on the wall outside the garage door of The Fox Den, Louisville's first and only drive-thru biker bar! I believe a fallover would be what happens when your bike tips over. I was nowhere near there when that happened.

A Sheltered Life

2007-03-18T20:25:00.001-05:00

Willi and I decided late Friday afternoon to take a road trip to Louisville and spend St. Patrick's Day with Tim Krekel. Luckily the folks at the doggie hotel complied and off we went. I have to admit that for two old farts the spontaneity was pretty impressive. At least I was impressed, although that probably doesn't count.

We found some neat stuff to keep us busy Saturday until showtime. I'll post some highlights a little later in the week. For now it's late Sunday (late for me anyway) and Monday will come all too early, so I'll leave you with these thoughts.

My mom used to say that I led a sheltered life; particularly at those "duh" moments I was prone to have. Well, I guess that so many odd years later I'm still having those "duh" moments.

Here are a few...

#1. Me: "That's cool...wonder what that is?", as I take a picture. Willi knew what it was. Do you?

#2. This had a life of it's own, and some pretty powerful sound effects. Have you ~~seen~~ heard this before? I hadn't.

#3. This was pretty cool...but I bet it's not what you think!
Give it a guess...

#4. Sounds like a scary place, but what the heck is a fallover?
And if you are not responsible, who is?

Stay tuned for the answers to these burning questions, and more. Actually they all made sense to me. Eventually.

WWC: No Time to Waste

2007-03-12T17:48:00.000-05:00

So now we are looking at the Army's decision to privatize building maintenance and support at Walter Reed with IAP, a contractor with connections to Bush and Halliburton. This after Army auditors, in 2004, refused estimates by the Army that said it would have been more cost-effective to keep the service in-house. They were directed to come back with a more appropriate bid which called for 23 additional staff and another $16 million to their cost. As a result, the White House's Office of Management and Budget pressured the Army to privatize. What the heck is with that? So here we are. Who loses? Our veterans.

In the mean time, Bush has ordered a "comprehensive review" of government hospitals which are now overwhelmed with injured troops returning from Iraq and Afghanistan. The commission will be led by Bob Dole and Donna Shalala. Shalala said yesterday that "(Soldiers) don't have time to waste while we debate who's responsible here. They want that care now, and they want it to be of the highest quality."

I agree. Kind of.
I want quality care for our troops, now.
Then I want to know who is responsible this mess .

Courtesy of Odd Mix, the words are Steadfast and Gracious.

Our government has not been very gracious
in their care of those who have remained steadfast.

Champion of the People

2007-03-10T21:24:00.000-06:00

That was the headline in yesterday's paper. It hovered over the article about Indiana State Senator Anita Bowser. Her funeral was Thursday. You might remember me writing about her in this post. I did not know then that she was struggling with breast cancer. That was one battle she did not win; although she "died with her boots on". Still hoping that she would make Monday's morning session, she remained in Indianapolis in hospice, rather than return to her home in Michigan City. She had only a week's absence and had more bills heard this year than any other. They buried her with a copy of the Indiana State Constitution.

I cried when I read the said news of her passing in Monday's paper. Even today when I read over the accounts of her various debates on the Senate floor, I am moved to emotion. Why? After all, she was not from my district. She did not represent me, right?

(Michael McArdle/Post-Tribune file)

Wrong. She said what I feel. She spoke for me. They called her "the conscience of the General Assembly". They said "No one could thunder with more passion and indignation...". I wish I could have heard her.

I wish I could have heard her the last time at the podium when she condemned the proposed amendment to the state constitution banning same sex marriages. Senator Earline Rogers said she argued that the state constitution was designed to preserve rights, not take them away. I wish I could have heard her when she told them that the Indiana Constitution does not talk about intolerance, and asked "Who next is going to be on your hatred list?"

I wish I could have heard her scold fellow senators who were afraid to vote against the proposed gay marriage ban for fear of losing in the next election. "You're compromising your integrity for a vote. Does not your conscience bother you about that?"

It was reported in this article, that the Senator "with cancer in her bones and a broken pelvis, was so determined to speak against the resolution that she'd had to make her way to the Senate floor in a wheelchair."

Senator Bowser considered herself a conservative on constitutional issues, but "on social issues, yes, I guess I'm a liberal. I don't think it's bad term, I think it's a Christian term," she said. On Tuesday, flowers covered an empty desk while those that worked beside her remembered her "as perhaps the most intelligent, progressive voice in the body".

There is a pattern in the accounts of her life...a friend to the little guy, an advocate for the less fortunate, a champion of the people. I wonder who will fill her shoes. I wonder who will say what I think. Who will stand up for the downtrodden? Now who will be the champion of the people?

I will miss you, Senator Bowser.

WWC: Just Another Day in the Hood

2007-03-04T20:44:00.000-06:00

This is the view from the window over my kitchen sink on a wintery Saturday morning. I grew up with this view. In fact I took it for granted up until the time I moved into a house with a wall where the window was supposed to be. This was a great delight in moving back to the house of my childhood.

One of the first things Willi and I did when we settled in was to replace the feeders and fill them up with seed. Ever since then we have had a steady stream of visitors.

There is a definite pecking order in this neighborhood. Very seldom do I see two Cardinals feed at the same time, although they will share the same space with some of the smaller birds.

Mostly they hang out on the corner waiting around for their turn. Sometimes this row of evergreens is full of Cardinals and other critters.

This guy appears to be hitting on the chicks although they don't look too awfully impressed.

Of course, why would they make a hasty decision when there are so many other good lookers fluffed up and ready to go?

We are inundated with squirrels. They are the interlopers in this neighborhood; knocking down the feeders and scaring the birds away. They're not afraid of much which makes them a year round pest. This one I am familiar with only because his tail, or lack thereof, makes him quite noticeable.

These two bad boys caused quite a ruckus this morning. Can you see them? They are so far away that my camera and I are both struggling. They are actually across the creek, but their presence definitely does not go unnoticed.

Here is a little better view of the Red-tailed Hawks. I think they are hungry and waiting for breakfast. But I don't think they have seeds in mind...

Courtesy of Odd Mix, the words are Civilized and Barbaric.

This little guy appears to be so civilized as he contemplates his next move. Maybe the circumstance in which he lost the majority of his tail has given him a somewhat calmer approach to life...

...as opposed to this barbaric acrobat, who prefers climbing down from the roof!

Just one more picture: Frosty Crabapples on a foggy morning.

Hope your week is a good one!

New Tunes: What a Song

2007-03-01T04:45:00.000-06:00

Ruthie Foster is Phenomenal, and that's the name of her new CD. I found her a few years back while paging through a No Depression magazine, which is a great way for Willi and I to keep up with the music we are so fond of. In fact, before XM Satellite Radio, No Depression was about all we had; well that plus the internet. Absolutely none of the other radio stations played what we liked, and they still don't. Not even the Chicago stations.

Well anyway, Willi found out there was another offering from Ruthie and headed on over to our internet connection for new tunes, Village Records. Our local vendors don't really carry much that isn't mainstream. Within a few days it was in our mailbox. Yippee!

What first drew me to Ruthie Foster was the strength of her voice. I don't go much for wimpy sounding women singers. Willi says I am too hard on them, but if they don't have some grit and guts in their voice, I'll pass. What a wonderful thing to play Phenomenal for the first time and get the same thrill I heard a few years back.

The title track, Phenomenal Woman, grabbed me as soon as I heard it but I couldn't quite put my finger on it. While playing it for my daughter and her husband, he recognized the song right off the bat as a poem written by Maya Angelou. It was truly a "Duh" moment; I should have read the liner notes. Maya Angelou is an awesome woman and Ruthie Foster sinks every bit of herself into this song. It is one of those moments that just can't be topped. Well, I think so anyway.

So here is the song, and the lyrics, for your perusal. Hope you enjoy them. Warning to the guys: this would probably be considered a "chick song".

PHENOMENAL WOMAN
by Maya Angelou

Pretty women wonder where my secret lies
I'm not cute or built to suit a model's fashion size
But when I start to tell them
They think I'm telling lies.
I say
It's in the reach of my arms
The span of my hips
The stride of my steps
The curl of my lips.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally
Phenomenal woman
That's me.

I walk into a room
Just as cool as you please
And to a man
The fellows stand or
Fall down on their knees
Then they swarm around me
A hive of honey bees.
I say
It's the fire in my eyes
And the flash of my teeth
The swing of my waist
And the joy in my feet.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally
Phenomenal woman
That's me.

Men themselves have wondered
What they see in me
They try so much
But they can't touch
My inner mystery.
When I try to show them
They say they still can't see.
I say
It's in the arch of my back
The sun of my smile
The ride of my breasts
The grace of my style.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally
Phenomenal woman
That's me.

Now you understand
Just why my head's not bowed
I don't shout or jump about
Or have to talk real loud
When you see me passing
It ought to make you proud.
I say
It's in the click of my heels
The bend of my hair
The palm of my hand
The need for my care.
'Cause I'm a woman
Phenomenally
Phenomenal woman
That's me.

WWC: Tin Pan South

2007-02-26T20:30:00.000-06:00

According to the website, Tin Pan South is "America's largest music festival dedicated to songs and songwriters". This is the fifteenth year that several hundred songwriters will perform in near a hundred shows during the last week of March, thanks to the Nashville Songwriters Association International.

Although Willi and I make at least one trip to Nashville each year, this is only the third time for Tin Pan South. In fact, Nashville has become a very comfortable place for us now. We have never been to Opryland, or any of the other slick, high priced places, but we can tell you all the good venues for small, up close and personal performances. We always hit lower Broadway and places like the infamous Tootsies, but the best shows are far from the lights and action. The nice thing about Tin Pan South is that the shows are already lined up with a schedule to boot.

We ordered our "Fast Access" Passes last week. They get us into the venues without the wait in line. There are two shows a night, for five nights, in each of nine different locations. Each show usually has at least four performers "in the round" and are timed so that you can get from one to the other without too much hassle. A lot of times the writers will stay after and just play for fun. Sometimes they mingle after the show which is kind of cool, in a scary sort of way. The only real problem we ever have is if two people we really want to see are playing at the same time in different locations. That sucks.

Trolling the huge list of performers, here are a few of the ones we have enjoyed, or will sure try to see this year... Harley Allen, Tony Arata, Bonnie Baker, Matraca Berg, Suzy Boggus, Chuck Cannon, Grayson Capps, Marshall Chapman, Rodney Crowell, Justin Townes Earle, Danny Flowers, Radney Foster, Dr. John, Jelly Roll Johnson, Will Kimbrough, Fred Knobloch, Wood Newton, David Olney, Lee Roy Parnell, Jon Randall, Rivers Rutherford, Mando Saenz, Thom Schuyler, Darrell Scott, John Scott Sherrill, Michelle Shocked, John David Souther, Jeffrey Steele, Joy Lynn White, Walt Wilkins, and Tommy Womack. Many of them are performers in their own right; most of all they are writers. It is a real kick to hear them perform the songs they wrote. Their credits will be listed on the link above.

Aside from the music, we have found several places for local brews and great food, including oysters on the half shell. Last year our find was a little place called the Crescent Cafe and Oyster Bar. You can bet we will be back there this year.

Then there is the annual hunt for the first Redbud and Dogwood bloom. Last year we found Cheekwood, a museum and botanical garden that was outstanding. The best part was their collection of Trillium, one of Willi's favorites.

We did not find even one Dogwood in bloom until the very last day, and it was just beginning to open. But, oh what joy!

Courtesy of Odd Mix, the words are Rush and Wait.

The Fast Access Passes are ready and waiting to be picked up. The list of artists is posted and updated daily. The show schedule is due to come out March 5th. The hotel reservations are made. Even Cali's hotel reservations are made. I'm so excited I can hardly stand it. It was a rush to get it all going, now all I can do is hurry up and wait.

NEWS FLASH!! Willi has posted his Mocha Latte recipe... can you believe it?

Oh Happy Day!

2007-02-23T21:42:00.000-06:00

I just spent two hours listening to the most wonderful music; music that you can feel in the pit of your stomach; music that makes your heart feel good. At least it made my heart feel good! If you have an opportunity to see the Soweto Gospel Choir on a PBS station in your area...please do. You will not regret it. You can also follow this link to this NPR performance, or another one here which has sample for a CD called Blessed.

WWC: It's Fat Tuesday!

2007-02-20T04:48:00.000-06:00

Courtesy of Odd Mix, the words are View and Conceal.

It has become a tradition for Willi and I to enjoy Fat Tuesday with our own New Orleans style cooking. The celebration begins for us on Monday evening when we make King Cake to share with our co-workers Tuesday morning.

King Cake is a Mardi Gras tradition and has a rich history dating back to the eighteenth century, coming from France and Spain along with the colonists.

The yeast dough is a sweet mixture of butter, sour cream, flour, and sugar. It is set aside to rise, punched down, and then rolled out.

Some of the recipes we have found call for a cheese or praline filling. Ours has a layer of butter with cinnamon and sugar sprinkled on top. The dough is then rolled in a jellyroll fashion.

Shaped like a wreath, the cake rises a second time before baking. Hidden from view, a trinket such as a coin, or in some cases a baby doll, is concealed inside the King Cake. The lucky person who finds the trinket is said to be the Queen or King of the party.

After the cake is cooled, a butter cream frosting is added in traditional Mardi Gras colors complete with sugar sprinkles.

Here is Southern Living magazine's recipe for King Cake. We like it the best.

Last night for dinner Willi made Jambalaya. I would post that delicious recipe, except in true Willi fashion he began with two recipes and didn't stick to either one of them! For lunch we have prepared a hearty Seafood Gumbo. On tap for tonight is Oyster Po' Boys with Crawfish Etouffee, Red Beans and Rice.

"Laissez le bon temps roulet" or Let the good times roll!

Tomorrow it's back to the treadmill.

It's a good day to be a dog.

2007-02-17T17:36:00.000-06:00

This is an AP photo of Diamond Jim, or James, as he is known. He is the English Springer Spaniel that won the 2007 Westminster Best in Show this week at Madison Square Gardens.

This is Cali Mist of Sierra, or Cali, as she is known. She is our English Springer Spaniel, and she had a day of her own this week. You see, Cali loves people. They told us she would when we brought her home, but we really didn't know what that meant. She thinks that everyone, EVERYONE, wants to love on her; and she wants to return the favor.

She wraps herself around your legs and if you don't have a good solid stance, she will take you right over. As a result, we never take Cali outside unless she is teathered at the end of a nice long leash.

With the wonderfully large amount of snow we had Tuesday night, it was our great pleasure to open the door at 4:30 Wednesday morning and let her run. There were no cars, no people, nothing; just the snow that Cali loves.

Fresh, untrodden snow. And no leash! It was one of the nicest times I have had recently. I think I enjoyed it equally as much as she did!

She ran and jumped and lunged through the snow; around and around. Interestingly enough, she never once tried to leave the yard.

Several times she stopped and looked at me as if to say, "Are you really going to let me do this?"

The tracks tell the tale of a good day for a dog, our Best of Show in the snow!

Winter wine, some tunes, and a book...

2007-02-13T22:05:00.000-06:00

We are in the throws of a little bitty snow storm...right here in River City, my friends. I tried to take some really beautiful pictures to share with you, but the really beautiful snowflakes kept getting in the way!

Here is another. I tried several more, but the snow was falling so fast and furious that every single picture has the combination of the flash and the flakes. I guess I am being reminded to see the beauty in the small stuff. I need that sometimes.

This is a more sheltered view from the front of our house. I don't really think the amount of snow is the issue as much as the wind that is causing great drifts. It was enough to cancel school today and maybe even tomorrow.

Willi and I shoveled the drive when we got home this afternoon. We made it all the way to the road, then turned around to see the driveway covered with another few inches. An hour or so later the drifts were back and Willi was shoveling yet again, only to be rescued by a neighbor and his blower of snow. Yipee!

While the outside is cold and snowy, the inside is cozy and warm. This is one of my favorite things...although my picture does not do it justice! There are actually two crackling sounds that I enjoy; one is the crackle of an old album on the turntable, and the other is the sound of a fire in the fireplace. You know, the fire crackle that makes you think it has a life of it's own.

What better time for some good old indulgence? After all, we're definitely not going anywhere real soon. Pour yourself a glass of wine...

...and put some tunes on the stereo. Something old and comfortable might be nice. This is my first chance to listen to some of the new tunes we picked up two weeks ago.

Here's my first choice. It's a little older Kasey Chambers release from 2000. You can sample the songs on The Captain here. I'm pretty hard on female singers. At least that is what Willi says. But this is pretty good, and a lot more rootsy than her newer stuff.

Here is my read for the night...I think it is my favorite new children's book.

Zen Shorts by Jon J. Muth, Jon J. Muth (Illustrator): This is a really neat book about a giant Panda Bear that moves into the neighborhood, enlightening the children with three ancient Zen stories. My favorite is a lesson about letting go of frustration rather than carrying it around like a load on your back. Stillwater, the bear, shares short but meaningful tales in a simple and easy to understand manner. The author calls these "Zen Shorts; short meditations - ideas to puzzle over - tools which hone our ability to act with intuition. They have no goal, but they often challenge us to reexamine our habits, desires, concepts, and fears."

There are good thoughts for young souls in this book, and old souls, too. And that's a nice thing to warm up to on a cold winter night.

WWC: Windy vs. Indy

2007-02-04T10:32:00.000-06:00

Courtesy of Odd Mix, the words are Balance and Parallel. I'm a little early, but...

It's finally here, and boy has it been a long couple of weeks; especially if you are a Colts fan living in Northwest Indiana. Even before the playoffs, the possibility of a Bears/Colts Super Bowl had those of us who reside in The Region drawing sides. Because of the proximity to Chicago, the vast majority claim allegiance to the Bears. After all, we live and breathe Windy City sports in the newspapers and on television. Indianapolis, although only a few hours away, might as well be in some foreign land. Interestingly enough, politics in the Hoosier State draw similar boundaries. But that's another story.

Even our small, blended family has chosen sides. Willi, a Colts fan for many years, is opposite his kids, legitimate Chicago suburbanites. My own daughter and her husband also think the Monsters of the Midway will dominate in today's big game. Her dad, in Philadelphia, warns that the Bears will break her heart. Willi's mom, in Texas, is rooting for the Colts. I cannot lay true claim to either, being the fair-weather football fan that I am. Being a Hoosier at heart, and considering my reluctance to have much to do with Chicago or Illinois, I will put my money on Peyton. Besides, having lived with a Colts fan for these many years I know plenty about their ups and downs.

Truth be told, we would all pull for the Bears had the Colts not been in the game. In this neck of the woods, Colts and Bears fans have run along parallel lines this year all the way to the Super Bowl which makes it difficult to find the balance on a day like today!

Change is Good.

2007-01-28T16:25:00.000-06:00

Right. This morning, after my Sunday visit with Opus, I wandered upstairs to add my thoughts to a "to be named later" post. I do this sometimes when an idea comes calling that I do not want to lose. For about the past month, or longer I guess, I have been getting hints from Blogger that they would really prefer I move on over to "The New Blogger". I pass right on by them and sign in the old and familiar way.

Today this was not to be the case. The EvilBloggerOverlord hijacked my Dashboard and literally moved it over. Not only that, it would not let me in unless I moved over with it. Boy, do I hate not being in control. I fumed about it awhile, then I got scared. What if I lost everything? The only way to find out was to commit the ultimate act of Blogger submission. I went on over to the dark side. After all, what else could I do? I could see my little piece of blogdom, but I couldn't get to it. You know, the old "You can't get there from here" line.

So, anyway, here we are. I haven't experimented with it very much. Maybe there will be some good stuff once I get into it. I did notice that the nice little pictures that accompanied the comments are gone and some now have an "anonymous" where a familiar name used to be. Don't like that much but we'll see what happens. It's not like I had a choice, here.

Pffft, as Tink would say.

Am I the only one that was left in "Old Blogger"?
---
And another thing. What in the hell is Bush thinking?

Today Willi and I stopped by Red Robin for a burger and as I looked over the top of my menu I saw a group of men in army fatigues eating lunch. There were about ten in all. They were varied in age; a couple looked like they might have been a little younger than me although most looked to be in their early to mid-twenties. One in particular didn't look old enough to drive. They had American flag patches on their shoulders. Some people went over and shook their hands. One lady took their picture with her little girl. It made my stomach ache. I hope they will not be in harm's way. I do not want to read about them in the paper or post their picture with a sad commentary. This really needs to stop.

Courtesy of Odd Mix, the words are Start and Again.

If all of the conditions are right in the morning...if we get up early enough and don't linger over the morning paper too long...Willi blesses my morning with his Mocha Latte creation. Don't let the Starbuck's travel cup fool you; that is how I get it to work. This is Willi's own recipe and handiwork - and a great Start to my day.

Today it snowed yet Again! Yipee! And I thought winter was going to pass us by! Hah!

Isn't this a cool looking plant? After reading about the Christmas Cactus in my last post, Daddy D sent this picture. The plant belonged to his mom's dad. It grows from a bulb. Pretty neat, huh? Thanks, Daddy D!

January Gift

2007-01-27T16:26:00.000-06:00

Some gifts come right when you expect them. There's really not much of a surprise, except what you find when you untie the ribbon. Then there are the gifts like the one that came this week. This Christmas Cactus has been around for as long as I can remember. She basked in the glow of my mom's love and affection for many years, and even survived my neglect for that year or so when my visits to her empty house were few and far between. She enjoys the somewhat sheltered outdoors from spring to fall and then winters inside. This summer she moved from the cracked old pot that held her rootbound soul to a shiny new one with room to grow. The downside, I was told, was that she would not bloom until she grew into her new pot.

That is why I was so surprised to see this beautiful bloom. If you look closely, you can see it hanging from the bottom on the right.

Granted, there are usually many more flowers this time of year. But this one beautiful bloom came at just the right time to lift my spirits.

A closer look this morning found two more tiny little buds. Who knows what this January gift will bring in February!
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Crafty Challenge Update:
There were four friends who took the challenge in my last post. Crafts of my making will be going to Daddy D, Ch3ll3, Susan and Debi.
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In a Nutshell...will return next post. It's going to take a little more thought than I have to give right now! You may want to wander on over and visit Maya's Granny. She's filling a nutshell, too; and at a much faster rate! Go Granny, go!

Crafty Challenge

2007-01-23T21:48:00.000-06:00

Our house has three bedrooms. Well it used to have anyway. Now it has one bedroom, a computer/music room where I puter and Willi plays his guitars, and a guest/craft room. The last of the three rooms looks like a plain old bedroom when company comes, complete with a day bed. If you take a closer look you will find a veritable delicatessen of craft supplies; some of them mine, some are my daughter's, and some were even my mom's. Many are projects in various stages of completion.

That's right. I come by it honestly. It's in my blood. I am a closet crafter. I may not see as well as I used to, and sometimes my fingers aren't quite as nimble, but the love of the craft is still there.

Graymama, in this post, offered up a crafty challenge. The first five people to comment would receive a personally handcrafted item. In the true spirit of "paying it forward" they would also be obligated to post a similar offer on their blog.

I hemmed and hawed. After all, it was November and the holidays were right around the corner. I'm in a new job; company was coming for Christmas. I couldn't make the big "C". You know - COMMITMENT! I did what any self respecting crafter would do, one who could not stand to pass up an offer like this one, I e-mailed Graymama to let her know I was interested but couldn't COMMIT until after the holidays. And guess what? It was ok with her because she was way busy, too.

So. If you are interested in this crafty challenge, shoot me an e-mail. The first five people to respond will receive a personally hand crafted gift made by me. I will contact you for your mailing address as soon as it is done. Here is the challenge part. I'm changing it just a little. You can make a similar offer on your blog, OR you can "pay a kindness forward", and then share it with the rest of us. That's it! You're going to have to trust me on the craft part, but the surprise is half the fun of it.

So, what do you think?

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In a Nutshell

A place set aside to answer
201 autobiographical questions
from a mother for her daughter.
This may take awhile...
join us if you like.

8. My parents felt strongly about passing on these lessons: both of my parents, by example, taught me the importance of doing things the "right way", meaning that easy was not always better. It was a sometimes painful lesson, but valuable just the same. One year I had a foods project in 4-H and had decided to make a braided yeast roll with a date filling. I had practiced so many times trying to make it come out right that every family member, friend, and neighbor had at least one that summer. There were other similar projects over the years and the lessons I learned in their completion have helped me many times over. Another thing I learned that is equally as important is having the good sense to realize when the project, job, or undertaking is just plain bigger than me and what I really have to say is "No". Saying "No" is still pretty hard, but not near as hard as saying "Yes" and not being able to pull it off.

Simple Pleasures

2007-01-21T06:00:00.000-06:00

Graymama over at The Beauty of Gray posted some pictures of her beautiful son in the kitchen. Today I was back in the boxes of rememberings and found these of a little girl, probably close to 50 years ago, enjoying what might have been cookie dough equally as much. Truly it's the simple pleasures that count.

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In a Nutshell

A place set aside to answer
201 autobiographical questions
from a mother for her daughter.
This may take awhile...
join us if you like.

7. A habit I picked up during my early years was: smoking. I don't know this to be sure, but I do know that as I move through the boxes of old rememberings one thing that seems to stand out is that many of the pictures of my day and I include a cigarette. I remember him smoking Pall Mall cigarettes with no filter. I don't think people knew about the damage smoking could do back in the day. I know that in the early seventies my dad had open heart surgery and by 1974, at the age of 54, 13 days before his 55th birthday, he was dead. I was 18. I also know that I started smoking when I was in high school and I smoked off and on until my daughter's 26th birthday in 2004. This was what she asked and it made sense to me. Probably not soon enough for me, but at least her children may have a chance to grow up smoke free.

Saturday's Leftovers

2007-01-20T10:08:00.000-06:00

Feed your mind
with thought-provoking,
mind-stimulating questions…

visit Friday's Feast:
a buffet for your brain.

Appetizer
Which television shows do you just refuse to miss?
There are no television shows I refuse to miss. The shows I enjoy watching are the original CSI, Criminal Minds and Numbers, and shows that are similar. I do not watch sitcoms or reality shows, so that pretty much narrows it down these days. If I know there is a good Austin City Limits, I would probably make a concerted effort to be front and center. Other than that, I'm not really tied to to the tv much. I will, however, be watching football this Sunday!

Soup
Who did you last speak to on the telephone?
The last person I spoke to on the phone was Willi. We try to coordinate our dinner after work but before getting home in case someone (usually Willi) has to make a stop. Last evening he called somewhere between work, Walgreens and the Smoke Shop.

Salad
How many pillows do you keep on your bed?
There are six pillows on our bed, except for at night time when it varies between five and six.

Main Course
Name one addition to your computer (software, hardware, etc.) that you'd love to have.
I'm pretty happy with the one I have. But now I kind of would like a laptop so I wouldn't be confined to this room when I want to puter. Well, it would be nice anyway.

Dessert
What is your favorite foreign food?
Well, to be honest, I cannot think of one that I favor over others. I like to eat and I'm generally not too picky. These days I tend to stay away from particular food ingredients that don't like me much, like red sauce. But other than that, bring it on!
__________________________________________

In a Nutshell

A place set aside to answer
201 autobiographical questions
from a mother for her daughter.
This may take awhile...
join us if you like.

6. This is how we usually ate dinner as a family: My mother was a stickler about this. On weekdays dinner would be ready to serve when my father walked in the back door from work. We always ate at the table, which was covered with a cloth. We took turns saying table grace which ended with "Bless the hands that prepared it". Meals were served from serving dishes which were passed around the table, even though we could have all reached them in the center of the table. There was usually a salad of some kind, the entree, bread and butter and some kind of dessert. Sometimes the salad and dessert would be one and the same, like Waldorf Salad.

We could not get up from the table without asking to be excused, which usually didn't happen until everyone was finished eating. We were expected to clean our plates because there were starving children someplace far away. I never really bought this idea. After all, if I didn't like rubber band steak, why would they? And if they wanted it, I would have been more than willing to oblige. Although I never shared that with my mom. Heaven forbid. There were a few memorable occasions when my brother or I sat solo with warm milk and cold food, but for the most part dinner was a happy time with great eats and a chance to talk about our day.

Dare to Breathe Deep

2007-01-18T22:09:00.000-06:00

Susan over at A Slice of Life, in this post, Double Dog Dared me to create a "theme" for the new year; something realistic and do-able, and better than a resolution. It sounded like a good idea; "choose a little theme and apply it to all aspects of my life."

Great thought has been given to this topic. In fact I have thought about it so much that it is closer to February than December! Sometimes it happens that way. If I am not careful, I tend to musterbate and awfulize until things are deep, dark and gooey. When channeled in a positive way, some would call this "strategic thinking" and consider it a strength. For me this has to be a conscious effort and it starts by stopping long enough to breathe. Most times I can think my way out of the paper sack, as long as I stop and breathe.

So, it will be my theme for 2007 to go slow enough so I can see the abyss before I fall in; to stop short and Dare to Breathe Deep.

Here's to mole hills, lemonade and glasses that are half full!
__________________________________________

In a Nutshell

A place set aside to answer
201 autobiographical questions
from a mother for her daughter.
This may take awhile...
join us if you like.

5. I remember getting in trouble with my parents on this occasion: I don't remember getting in a whole lot of trouble, particularly with both of my parents at the same time. Most times when I got in trouble the punishment was self-imposed. Come to think of it, that is probably why I tend to over-analyze and beat myself up over things. Guilt is a very interesting thing. At any rate, this is another time when I got in trouble but nary a word was uttered by my parents.

Buffy was my friend during junior high. Our friendship only lasted a few short years. She grew up much faster than me. I wanted to be like her so badly. She lived across the street with her mom and three sisters, two older and one younger, and had a lot more freedom than I did. Among other things, her mom would let her walk to and from school. My mom said I had to ride the bus; come hell or high water. We had this discussion many times.

One bright and sunny spring day I decided that I, too, would walk to school...even if it was by myself. I planned and plotted and made sure I had some fresh batteries for my transistor radio. Remember, times were much simpler back in the day. I left for the bus stop and kept right on walking. It was so cool. I had my tunes and I was walking to school; out of the subdivision, down Broadway, right on 73rd Avenue. Almost to Catherine Street, I felt the presence of a car coming from behind. No problemo. I would just move over a bit. There it was to my left and slightly behind me, just chugging along, not in any hurry to be on its way. Finally I stopped in my tracks and looked over my shoulder just in time to see my mom watching me through the passenger window as she drove right on by. I worried about it all day long, period after period, and all the way home on the bus. My mom gave me "the silent treatment" when I got home, which was far worse than anything she could have said or done, or anything I would have done to myself for that matter.

As I think back on some of the really stupid things I did growing up, I realize how fortunate I am to have come through unscathed. Often times I thought my parents had no clue, but now I wonder if they weren't following behind me all the time, watching out the passenger side window.

Yahtzee meets Craps

2007-01-13T10:29:00.000-06:00

There's an awful lot to be said for sitting around a table playing games. Over the holidays Willi and I had the occasion to play some games with his mom and children. It was great fun, but more importantly it bridged the gap between the generations, and also the miles that keep us apart for most of the year. Talk became easy and meaningful, and family ties were strengthened once again.

Willi's mom brought a cool game with her from Texas and we all learned how to play. You may have played it yourself. It's called Farkle and has been described as a cross between Yahtzee and Craps. There are as many sets of rules as there are stories of the game's origin. The most interesting story I have found was that it began with the Farkleberry Tree. Yep, there really is such a thing. Supposedly early settlers coming to Texas carved hardened berries from the Farkleberry Tree into dice, thus the name of the game. You need six dice, paper and a pencil to keep score. As many can play as can fit around the table, or you can play with teams. Here are some rules to get you started, but if you Google the game you will find many variations.

Although table games were not a big part of my growing up, Willi shares tales about learning to count by playing Dominoes with his grandad. The more memorable part was the banter between a boy and his grandfather as they drew playing pieces from "the boneyard". Back in the day, I learned some pretty important life lessons playing outside with my friends. In a day and age where technology tends to encourage a somewhat solitary existence, it feels good just to turn everything off, throw some dice, and visit.

___________________________________________

In a Nutshell

A place set aside to answer
201 autobiographical questions
from a mother for her daughter.
This may take awhile...
join us if you like.

4. If, growing up, I had any trouble with my dad, it was in this area: I honestly don't ever remember having trouble with my dad except for one time when I was in junior high. My mom and dad were both working by then, leaving me home alone until they got in. Of course the rule was that there were no boys allowed. None. Not even on the front porch. Zip, zilch, zero. How silly was that rule? So, whilst baking cookies one afternoon in the kitchen, I visited with my friend Dale as he sat at the kitchen table. To help you visualize the predicament we found ourselves in; the kitchen, dining room, living room and hallway are laid out in a circle with a wall in the middle. You can walk from the kitchen to the dining room, then through the living room and hall, right back around into the kitchen. I thought I had the timing pretty well down, but alas my dad got home earlier than expected. He came up the stairs into the hall just quick enough to see Dale step into the dining room. It looked like a scene from a Marx Brothers movie! As he headed for the dining room, Dale came back around the other way and headed down the stairs and out the door. You know my dad never said a word to me. And I never had a boy in the house again without permission. He was so disappointed in me, but not as much as I was in myself.

As a side note, Dale gave me my very first kiss. It happened when we were ice skating on the creek behind the house. We were just kids and it was just a sweet little peck. I will have to post sometime about Dale and the neighborhood kids. What a lot of fun we had growing up.

WWC: A Mystery Unfolds

2007-01-07T19:47:00.000-06:00

Courtesy of Odd Mix, the words are Mystery and Missing.

Willi and I found the neatest place to spend an afternoon during our last trip to Louisville. Walking through the maze of rooms at Architectural Salvage is like unlocking a mystery, one step at a time.

Everything from drawer pulls and drawers to door knobs, door hinges, and even doors was lined up by size, shape, style and color.

There were light fixtures, lamps, chandelier, candelabra and candle holders; things to light them with and things to put them out.

The only limit to what you might find is really the amount of time you can spend looking.

Although help was there for the asking, the fun was definitely in the hunt.

After winding around through the many rooms and floors we found that the mystery continued on through the house next door...

...out through the back, down the stairs and onto the lawn where you would find all sorts of ornaments, benches, fountains and faldera.

So next time you're in Louisville, time and inclination permitting, here is a great place to look for adventure and treasure.

I can't think of anything that was missing; not even the kitchen sink!
___________________________________________

In a Nutshell

A place set aside to answer
201 autobiographical questions
from a mother for her daughter.
This may take awhile...
join us if you like.

3. One of dad's traits I admired was: that he found joy in the little things. My rememberings are of a man who really had a pretty good outlook despite some pretty serious health issues. I don't really remember him being idle very much; he usually had either a tool or fishing rod in his hand. Doing things that others may have considered chores made him happy. I also remember that he liked coming home from work. Each evening at 5:30 he would come in the back door and whistle the same four notes. You could set the clock by it. So much so, that my mom could have dinner on the table as he walked up the stairs. Now that is a pleasant remembering that I had forgotten about.

It's a wrap...

2007-01-02T22:01:00.000-06:00

We've said so-long to 2006 and packed away Christmas. Tomorrow is a workday; just three this week. And that's a good thing. I've been staring at this computer for well over an hour now, and I still got nuthin. So here are some random thoughts...

The winner in the gift department this year came from Willi's secretary. And what a winner it was! Everyone that came through the door had to try the Marshmallow Shooter. And what happens to the spent ammo? Just ask the dog! Cali was the unexpected beneficiary of the gift that kept on giving. Wish that we could replace all of the deadly ammunitions with marshmallows...

According to the Associated Press, on New Year's Eve the death of Texas soldier Army Spc. Dustin R. Donica, 22, raised the number of U.S. military deaths in Iraq to at least 3,000 since March of 2003. In November when I made this post, the number was 2820. December has been the deadliest month of the last twelve. The A.P. article went on to say that the Bush administration is seeking to "overhaul its strategy for a unpopular conflict that shows little sign of abating." Overhaul indeed.

- - - - - - - - - -

Sometime over the holiday this opinion piece about Hillary Clinton, by Dick Morris and Eileen McGann entitled "Hillary's New Strategy: The Mom President" ran in our local paper. To summarize: because of her initial support of the war in Iraq she now finds herself backpeddling for voters, and what better way than to play the "mom card".

In today's Post Tribune, this article ran about Indiana Senator Anita Bowser. At 86 years old, this Democrat from Michigan City is heading back to begin her 27th year in Indianapolis. According to the article, "Her peers call her the conscience of the Indiana Senate." She's a pretty tough old bird and I like her. Hillary pales in contrast. Am I asking too much?

- - - - - - - - - -

This is my new favorite children's book. I told you these were random thoughts.

Is There Really a Human Race? by Jamie Lee Curtis and Laura Cornell. I bought it for the third time today. It begins with questions about the race; when will it start? In the end we learn that it is the journey and what we do while we are on it that is important. My favorite passage is, "So, take what's inside you and make big, bold choices. And for those who can't speak for themselves, use bold voices."

- - - - - - - - - -

Here is to 2007. I resolve that Father Christmas next finds us at peace and with goodwill toward our brothers.

___________________________________________

In a Nutshell

A place set aside to answer
201 autobiographical questions
from a mother for her daughter.
This may take awhile...
join us if you like.

2. If I had any trouble with mom growing up, it was in this area: My mom was 40 when I was born. I hit puberty just about the same time she hit menopause. She was driven to perfection and I was tinkering with non-compliance. We were a train wreck waiting to happen. Need I say more?

Tree-mendous Thoughts of Christmas

2006-12-23T06:47:00.000-06:00

Its very quiet in our home in these early morning hours of the day before Christmas Eve. I love the quiet, particularly at this time of year when our lives are so full and busy. Willi is sleeping in on the first day of a much needed break. The sun is not up quite yet, either. Soon both will signal the start of another day. I remind myself that each day is like no other. It is easy to let them fly by paying little or no attention to their relevance. This morning I promise myself to look for the joy in the little things.

Willi's mom has flown in from Texas to join us for the holidays. We are soaking up every bit of her while she is here. Yesterday she made a yummy apple cake while we were both at work. When I came home, the wonderful aroma of fresh baked goodies still hung in the air. I made a note to myself, "It is good to have a mom in the house when you come home from a long day at work."

My daughter and her husband are sharing their first Christmas. I remember those years when your holidays are not your own. When families lay their claim, wanting all of your precious minutes to be spent with them. When really what you want so much is to hunker in and make memories of your own. I say a little prayer for them as they try to spread a little of themselves amongst us all. And remind myself not to be pinched when my minutes are few; theirs are young and tender and need room to grow.

Thoughts of Christmases past drift in and out, both bitter and sweet. My mother's dilligent preparation of the thin pastry in which she dropped measured spoonfuls of nut filling to make the mouth-watering Nut Horns we so coveted! The tears my father shed as he sat on the floor of the garage, one of his last Christmases, trying to make the stubborn tree sit straight in the homemade stand, as he had so many times with ease. Shopping with both of them as they selected the "perfect gift" for each other; plaid wool shirts for my dad and Chanel No. 5 for my mom, always the favorites!

I'm thinking about my son. Back in the day, his second grade teacher hosted the usual Christmas party for the students, and moms were invited to join in. After treats were served and the children had performed, we all took some time to enjoy the many examples of student work that had been dutifully posted on the boards and walls. Among them, 8.5 x 11 inch Santas marched around the room in perfect red and white harmony. Mrs. Thompson giggled as she asked me, "Can you guess which one is his?" I began at the first Santa in the row and continued around the room until I found one colored in purple. That was his. I have it tucked away with the Christmas ornaments. He still moves to his own beat. I pray he is healthy and safe.

Willi's children will be coming in tomorrow night, on Christmas Eve. They are growing so quickly and their lives have become so busy. In various stages of high school and beyond, too soon they will be planning Christmases of their own. He is the bridge of generations for his mom and her grandchildren, bringing them together to make some Christmas memories. They have welcomed me into their fold and for that I am grateful. They fill the chairs around the holiday table with warmth and laughter; and it is good.

Willi and I have made a few traditions of our own in the part of our lives we have spent together. Blending our pasts into our present has been interesting and often times a matter of compromise. Gracing our tree, is the angel I made so many years ago sitting atop his cowboy hat. Each of us clings to the paths we have walked; paths that led us to each other and help us appreciate the differences which make us who we are. And make us good together.

Well, the sun is up and the bustle begins. Willi has made a list of the things we need to accomplish in this day that will be too short. We will feast on apple cake, sip some coffee, and move forward toward the celebration that is over so quickly. As I listen to Willi strum and sing "I'll Fly Away", I give thanks. We will have a Merry Christmas. Best wishes for yours to be the same.

Tag! You're it!

2006-12-20T15:19:00.000-06:00

I got tagged by Jay.

* Rules for this tag game are:
-Grab the closest book to you
-Open Page 123
-Scroll down to the 5th sentence
-Post the next 3 sentences on your blog
-Name the book and author
-Tag 3 people

"The teachers of Froebel School set up a soup kitchen so that families could receive food during the Depression. Each day at noon people lined up to receive their pail of food. Under the auspices of the Gary Public Schools, the child welfare department also distributed clothes and other articles needed by poor children."

Gary, A Pictorial History
by James B. Lane and Ronald D. Cohen

I tag...

Graymama
Mamarazzi
Ch3ll3

Here is the picture that went with these sentences:

South Side Soup Kitchen, 1934

I'm going to go count my blessings now...

WWC: Celebrate the Joy of Reading

2006-12-17T12:06:00.000-06:00

Courtesy of Odd Mix, the words are Celebrate and Joy.

Admittedly, I take great liberty in the Weekend Words Challenge, but Odd Mix has not booted me out of the game yet. So, today I am celebrating the joys of reading; and what better time than Christmas? I should probably tell you that I love children's books. Here are some of my favorites, both old and new. Graymama, this is for you and your family of readers!

Does anyone remember the Ideals Magazine? My mom used to get it back in the day. This one, published in 1958, shaped my perception of Santa Claus and just what must have been happening in the North Pole in the days preceding Christmas.

I remember laying on my tummy in the living room , getting lost in the pictures even before I could read the words. There are two pages to read between every two-page picture. I share this book with a first grade class every Christmas and they love to find the details in the pictures, just like I did.

Here are some of the newer books that have been added to my list of favorite Christmas stories:

Olive, the other Reindeer by J. Otto Seibold and Vivian Walsh: This is a neat little story that was made into a Christmas movie a few years back. Olive, a pup, hears the song Rudolph, the Red Nosed Reindeer and believes the verse "all of the other reindeer..." is a summons for her to head to the North Pole to be Santa's helper. She becomes an integral part of the Christmas Eve happenings in a very useful and exciting way.

Snowflake Bentley by Jacqueline Briggs Martin and illustrated by Mary Azarian: Not really Christmas, but great for winter-time, this true story is a Caldecott Medal book about Wilson Bentley, a Vermont farmboy. He was so fascinated with snowflakes that he worked with a microscope and camera to capture them on film, thus the name Snowflake Bentley. This became his life's work and many of his photos are still used today. Last year I told this story at a Student of the Month Breakfast. We talked about how each snowflake, like each of us, is different. In Snowflake Bentley's words, "Every crystal was a masterpiece of design and no one design was ever repeated." It was pretty neat. We linked to this site with a laptop and projection unit to make snowflakes. The illustrations are outstanding in this book.

Welcome Comfort by Patricia Polacco: This is a great Christmas heart-warmer about a little boy named Welcome Comfort. Being a foster child, Welcome moves frequently and at each school he becomes a magnet for bullies. He is befriended by the school's custodian and things begin to look up. You can probably guess who the custodian turns out to be! There's more...but I don't want to spoil the ending for you. You will love it!

A Wish for Wings That Work: An Opus Christmas Story by Berkeley Breathed: I love this story! Opus longs to fly, but finds that he is much more valuable as a swimmer to save the day for Santa. As always, the illustrations are the best and you know I love Opus. It just doesn't get any better than this. Unless of course you want to read my all time favorite...

Red Ranger Came Calling by Berkeley Breathed: In this book the author retells the story his dad shared on the Christmas Eves of his youth. It takes place in 1939, when his then nine year old father, called Red (short for Red of Ranger fame), requests an official Buck Tweed Two-speed Crime-stopper Star-hopper Bicycle from a hermit named Saunder Clos. What a Christmas morning surprise! This is one of those books that seems to be written on two levels; one for the child in each of us and one that speaks to us as adults. I love this book and the way it makes me feel each Christmas when I read it again!

May joy be yours as you celebrate this holiday season...maybe with a little Christmas reading!

___________________________________________

In a Nutshell

A place set aside to answer
201 autobiographical questions
from a mother for her daughter.
This may take awhile...
join us if you like.

1. One of mom's traits I admired was: that she always seemed to be quite the lady. Even when she was working in the garden, she wore a hat and gardening gloves. As I look through the pictures that remember her life to me now, I see a very elegant woman where a young farm girl once stood. To me, this is quite something.

Friday's Feast 122

2006-12-15T06:32:00.000-06:00

Feed your mind
with thought-provoking,
mind-stimulating questions…

visit Friday's Feast:
a buffet for your brain.

Appetizer
What was your very first job with a paycheck?
My first paying job was at Jo-Ann Fabrics. It was a pretty cool gig. They had a really nice incentive program for employees to sew garments for display. You received everything including patterns, fabric and notions, with a 50% discount as long as you let them display your product for a month when it was sewn. We always worked a season ahead so my clothes were off of display just in time to wear them. Of course in the end I was working for my wardrobe and a little spending money...but when you are in high school, that's all you really need!

Soup
Did you ever lose something really important to you?
Once I lost a little diamond studded band that was my mom's. I was crushed. I tore the house apart looking for it. Months later it turned up when I pulled a desk away from the wall to vacuum. It rattled in the vacuum cleaner and got spit out. What a save!

Salad
What is the best Christmas present you ever received?
The last Christmas we had with my dad I was at Purdue and the snow was so deep and coming down steady. It looked like I was staying at school for the holiday until my mom called to tell me to be ready - dad was coming. And sure enough, he did. It was so neat to see him plodding down the street in front of my dorm. I still don’t know how we made it home. I-65 looked the same as the fields on either side. I guess that would be one of my best Christmas rememberings, and a gift for me.

Main Course
Tell about a favorite "hang out" place for you and your friends when you were in high school.
We didn't really have one, unless you want to call Broadway from about 61st Avenue to Ridge Road a hang-out. When I was in high school we would cruise that stretch of road most evenings beginning about dusk. Once in awhile we would park, sit on the hoods of our cars and visit. That was back in the day when gas was relatively inexpensive and you didn't have to worry too much about the boogey man.

Dessert
Name something that always brings a smile to your face.
Hearing children laugh always makes me smile. Willi's jokes always make me smile, too. And there are plenty of them! Snow makes me smile. Music always makes me smile, too! I could go on and on...

WWC: Labor of Love

2006-12-11T18:51:00.000-06:00

Courtesy of Odd Mix, the words are Honor and Love.

In honor of my dad, this is a little story about his labor of love.

I think of my dad as the consummate outdoorsman, jack-of-all trades, father, husband, provider and just about any other good thing you could think of. I was the child the doctors said my parents would never have. When they finally gave up, just before age 40, that is when I came along. I believe he thought of me as the son he didn't mind not having. From my very earliest recollection, what he did...so did I.

As a side note, Willi and I got up at 4:30 this morning to pick up some risers he had taken to church, before we started our work day. We had a concert to benefit Coats for Kids and the musicians needed a "little lift". *snort* Anyway, as we were driving to the church Willi commented that he enjoyed getting up early; it brought back many good memories of time spent with his father. I had not made the connection until he did, then I got this warm and fuzzy feeling with my rememberings.

I loved getting up in what seemed like the middle of the night to crawl in the car and ride with my dad. Sometimes we would go hunting at Willow Slough, or fishing at my grammas on Lake Dale. In the winter he would ice fish and I would take my skates for when the sun came up. For awhile he owned a dump truck and would make some extra bucks on Saturdays hauling black dirt. We would get up way before dawn to get the first load out early, squeezing in as many loads as the daylight hours would allow. I would ride alongside him all day with a bucket of crayons and my coloring books. Those early morning hours were the neatest. The roads would be empty and the sky big and dark, but I was always safe, sound, and glad to be with my dad.

This picture was taken when I was two. My guess is that I couldn't quite keep up, or maybe I wasn't old enough to hang on to the sled yet. I do know that he crafted the box so that I could ride on the sled as he pulled it. Some might not have had the time or inclination for such a project. Some might have called it work. By the look on his face, I think he enjoyed it and might have considered it a labor of love.

A Little Homemade Christmas

2006-12-10T13:41:00.000-06:00

My daughter does not remember a Christmas without this nativity at my mom's house. We were trying to place an age on it and guess it was made around 1980. It definitely was back in the day when I was a stay at home mom and had time to craft.

It is made from salt and flour dough, baked, painted and then varnished. Mary, Joseph and the baby Jesus, along with the angel were made the first year. My neighbor made the creche out of spare lumber, and then came the star.

The wise guys came on foot; the next Christmas they brought their camel along with the shepherds and other critters.

The donkey might bear a slight resemblance to Eeyore, however unintentional.

My mom always kept all of her Christmas ornaments and decorations in boxes in the fruit cellar, but we found this in the original box in the hall closet. For awhile she kept it out all year round.

This is the first Christmas for my daughter and her husband in their new home. So, today I am boxing this up for her. It will fit perfectly on her mantel. From my mother to my daughter just feels so right. Merry Christmas Sarah!

Friday's Feast 121: A Pearl of a Place

2006-12-08T21:00:00.000-06:00

Feed your mind
with thought-provoking,
mind-stimulating questions…

visit Friday's Feast:
a buffet for your brain.

Appetizer
Which language would you like to learn and why?
I'm pretty happy with the language I have actually, although sometimes I probably don't do it justice.

Soup
What's the funniest thing you've heard or read so far this week?
My friend's husband is retired. He was determined this morning to do their grocery shopping in an effort to give her a break, as she is still working. He literally followed her around the house until she unwillingly gave him the list. A few hours after we were at work she received an e-mail from him outlining his trials and tribulations. It began with:

I bought Coke, but not the one that was on sale, so I will return it.
I was not able to fill the prescriptions since the pharmacy does not open until 8:00.
I'm not quite sure what Ghiradelli's are.
I could not find the Wisk that was on sale.

There were about four or five more items, followed by this...

I did get the eggs, Shout, milk and bread.
I'm going to take a nap now. I'm tired.

He called a little later in the day to report that he had indeed returned the Coke and purchased the size that was on sale.

He had forgotten about the prescriptions.

Salad
Which movie was so bad you couldn't watch the whole thing?
We don't generally mess with watching movies unless we are pretty sure we will like them. Lately I have been thinking about watching Lonesome Dove again. Maybe over the holidays we will get a chance.

Main Course
If there were a holiday in your honor that didn't use your actual name, what would the day be called?
Vacation.

Dessert
Name one movie which is coming out soon that you would like to see.
Oh, man. This is not a good question for me. I don't even know what movies are out now, let alone coming out. I was going to see DaVinci Code for the first time at church last month and wasn't able to make it!

I'm sneaking in one last post about our Texas trip. Willi and I ate at a great oyster bar and it's right on the trolley line!

You will find S & D Oyster Company in this historic brick grocery in the Uptown area.

The oysters, shucked at the front counter, were fresh and very clean. No sand, grit, or pieces of shell for me, thank you very much! The hostess mixed the sauce using condiments at our table.

It just doesn't get much better than this...oysters on the half-shell with a nice cold Shiner Bock!

Next time you are in Dallas, be sure and visit S & D Oyster Company on McKinney Avenue. Oysters on the half-shell, barbecued shrimp, well smoked beef brisket, and pork ribs are served with New Orleans style.

Next time...
a little homemade Christmas!

WWC Part 2: I love you, trolley

2006-12-04T21:30:00.000-06:00

Courtesy of Odd Mix, the words are Change and Persist.

This is a story about change; something that I, for one, do not take to very easily. It's ok. I acknowledge that I am the one with gnashing teeth being drug feet first into change. Particularly if it is not my idea. Then I generally have to sit in it for awhile and maybe pout a bit before recognizing that it may be a good thing after all. Although some changes eventually lead us right back to where we started. That is what this story is about.

Meet The Green Dragon, Streetcar 186, a McKinney Avenue Trolley in Dallas, Texas. She was built in 1913 and served for 43 years before retiring in 1956 when the streetcar system was abandoned. Mass transit had given way to our love for the car. Stripped of running gear and electrical wiring, the Green Dragon was sold to a North Dallas farmer for use as a hay barn. She could store 175 bales.

She received a facelift in order to be used for display in 1979 and was restored to full running order in 1989. After 33 years in retirement, she was back. What a change. Seats were salvaged from other Dallas streetcars while the running gear and electrical equipment came from a car in Melbourne, Australia.

186 actually carried students on the SMU line on McKinney Avenue. They affectionately called her "The Green Dragon" which remains her nickname after restoration. Willi and I certainly did appreciate the opportunity for a ride, getting on and off several times along the way to the West Village.

It was interesting to find out that The Green Dragon is actually operated from both ends. When the operator reached the end of the line, he removed the controllers to the left of the seat and placed them in the same location on the opposite end of the trolley.

The trolley pole reached from the roof of the car to an overhead electric wire. At the end of the line, the trolley pole is switched, in effect "changing ends", instead of physically turning the car around. Pretty interesting stuff, for me anyway.

If you're ever in Dallas near McKinney Avenue, park your car and take a ride on The Green Dragon. The change will do you good.

WWC Part 1: Chicago to Dallas

2006-12-03T18:59:00.000-06:00

Courtesy of Odd Mix, the words are Change and Persist.

This was the scene from our back door Friday morning as Willi and I headed out to Dallas for his nephew's wedding. The forecast called for as much as 12 inches of snow on top of the two days of rain we already had. Much of Northwest Chicagoland was under heavy snow and traveler's advisories. Although flights out of O'Hare had already been cancelled, Midway was up and running. I would have caved, but Willi was persistant.

The flight was delayed, but only an hour or so. Crews were busy clearing the runways in order to move the flights out. The problem was getting flights in since so many had been cancelled or delayed from other areas.

Ice Man 4 de-iced the planes as we readied to take off. This was comforting in an unsettling kind of way, if that makes any sense.

Finally on to the warmer southern climate, or so we thought. They were experiencing the same cold snap that continued up north; temperatures from 50 degrees in the daytime to 20 in the evening. But yet we persist!

Welcome to Dallas, where the sky always looks so big and blue. I love this picture looking up through an overgrowth of trees.

I'm so glad we made this trip. The wedding was beautiful and lots of fun. Although my photographic ability leaves much to be desired, to see the kids clowning for the camera was great!

Much love to Mr. and Mrs. who are currently south of the border in newly wedded bliss!

Tomorrow...WWC Part 2: I love you, trolley!

Friday's Feast One Hundred and Twenty

2006-11-30T21:41:00.000-06:00

Feed your mind
with thought-provoking,
mind-stimulating questions…

visit Friday's Feast:
a buffet for your brain.

Appetizer
Have you ever flown in a helicopter?
Yes, it had to have been 20 or so years ago. They were giving rides at the county fair. They strapped both of the kids and I in and up we went. It was GREAT fun. I remember there were no doors and it was very loud.

Soup
What color is your warmest coat or jacket?
Black and white tweed.

Salad
What is your favorite rainy day activity?
It has been raining here for two days. When we are stuck inside Willi and I like to play games of all sorts. The last time was Cribbage, but Dominoes is always a favorite. We also found a cool new game called Blokus.

Main Course
Describe your hands.
My hands are finding it harder to do the things they used to do with ease. They want to cut and stitch and craft. I think they are becoming my mother's hands. They are not yet crooked at the joints, but my knuckles seem like they may be a little larger. Sometimes they hurt, especially when the weather is cold. They find great comfort in the warmth of another's hands. I think they can still soothe the troubled brow. They have served me well.

Dessert
If you could eat only one nut for the rest of your life, what nut
would you pick?
I love nuts. I guess it would be pecans. Or cashews. Almonds. I would probably cheat.

Have a great weekend!

WWC: Pay it Forward

2006-11-26T20:09:00.000-06:00

Courtesy of Odd Mix, the words are Blessing and Thanks.

Great words this week. I have given them quite a lot of thought. My blessings are so many and my heart is full. I have thought about different ways to say thanks but the one that seems most fitting is to "pay it forward". I have some friends who are excellent at "paying it forward" and to that end they provide our church (willi and me included) the same opportunity many times over. You will see the fruits of their efforts in the pictures below.

Say thanks by helping out a family in need.

Feed the youth...say thanks.

Support World AIDS Day...say thanks.

Save gently worn coats for kids who need them...say thanks.
Provide school supplies for the new school year...say thanks.

Thanks to my friends.
You will recognize them as daddy d and mjd.

"The operational answer is to do the best you can, when you can, all the time you can, with as many people as you can."
- daddy d

Drop some coins in the shiny red bucket...say thanks.
Take some canned goods to the food pantry...say thanks.
Contact the nearest shelter to see how you can help...say thanks.

A little bit really does go a long way...just say thanks.

Christmas too soon

2006-11-24T09:20:00.000-06:00

It was hard to find the news sections in the two local newspapers we received on Thanksgiving. They were lost among the sale flyers. I took this picture at least a month ago at the local "big box" grocery store. Many of the merchants in our area were open yesterday; some open all night long.

In my mind's eye, I see long lines of shoppers winding from storefronts out into the parking lot, hoping to take advantage of big savings this morning. That's as close as we will be to the hustle bustle. Our dollars will not be among those counted by the merchants at the end of this busiest shopping day.

Nope. That's not us. We have really important plans.

Turkey sandwiches and Razorback football!

Woooooooooo, Pig ! Sooie!
Woooooooooo, Pig ! Sooie!
Woooooooooo, Pig ! Sooie!
Razorbacks!!

Gobble, gobble!

2006-11-22T22:05:00.000-06:00

What would Thanksgiving be without a few turkeys? These gobblers have graced our family dinner table for as long back as I can remember.

The two birds pictured below have earned a place in the holiday celebration although I am not quite sure when they arrived!

This is my favorite of all. We should have known that the creator of this beautiful bird would grow up to be an artist!

Well, it's Thanksgiving Eve and the sweet potato pies are in the oven. We've been counting our blessings and remembering things that have happened since this time last year. Lives have been joined in marriage, work situations have changed and new friends have shared our joys. Children have moved on to higher levels of education. Students have come and gone leaving indelible marks on the lives of those who work with them. Willi and I are grateful for the fullness of our lives and we hope your blessings are as many!

Happy Thanksgiving!

Oh Brother!

2006-11-21T05:56:00.000-06:00

There is a story I have enjoyed telling on my son for quite some time now and I finally found the picture to go with it.

He was just a little over two years old when his sister came home from the hospital. As with all first children, he had enjoyed everyone's undivided attention up unto that point. For the most part he did well with the new arrival and we were pretty careful to see that he had his own space and time.

A friend had lent us a nice little cradle. Placed in the dining room, it was just the perfect size and allowed me to keep a watchful eye, but still go on about the day. The actual bed hung from the frame and had a pin type latch to keep it from rocking. Without the pin the cradle would have a gentle sway with very little coaxing. You can probably see where I am going with this.

Standing at the kitchen sink, with my back to the cradle, I heard the baby wake with a start followed by the patter of feet heading down the hall. I turned in time to see the cradle doing a pretty steady rock and roll. After things calmed down I stood in the corner of the kitchen where I could see, but not be seen. Peeking around the corner I could see my son creep up to the cradle, look into the kitchen, look back into the cradle, kick the frame of the cradle, and run like hell down the hallway with a giggle!

After having "learned" that this was not appropriate, he would tease with the impish little grin in this picture.

WWC: One stitch too many

2006-11-19T20:30:00.000-06:00

Courtesy of Odd Mix, the words are Persevere and Overcome.

This is my lesson in perseverance. Us ladies at work found out that we have a real professional class knitter in our ranks. She can whip out a sweater in a little less than two week's time and gives classes at the local fabric shop. I have known her for 15 years, speaking to her several times a week on the phone. Who knew?

Not wanting to miss a great opportunity, we asked her to pass along some pearls of wisdom to a few beginners. Before long, there were five of us in our little onceaweek knitting circle. She started me out on a shawl. I can do this. Cast on 4 stitches, knit one row; slip one, knit one, yarnover. Oh, yeah. I can do this. This is going to be great fun!

Not. What you see here is the product of my third [three (3) tries] attempt. I have ripped the entire thing out twice already. I was on a roll. I've gone from my original four stitches to 119; not once, not twice, but three times. This morning I laid it out on the table just to enjoy the fruits of my labor and guess what? Do you see it? I did the same $%#!@*& thing all over again. Somehow or other I have gained a stitch and moved my entire pattern over to the right. Again.

Just in case you can't see it, here is a little help...

Did you know that you can knit backwards? I didn't. It might have been nice to know that before I ripped it out the last two times. Completely.

If you knit backwards, moving the stitch from the previous row back onto the needle, all the while pulling out the newest stitch, for 0nehundredandnineteen stitches, you can go back four $%#!@*& rows instead of ripping the whole thing out. Eventually you will end up with a pile of yarn about four times this size.

So, I have only three more rows to knit backwards.

I will persevere. And yes, I will overcome.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

There was a visitor outside our office window on Friday. One of these days I will be on the same side of the glass as the critter I am trying to photograph! This was pretty cool, though. Right here in River City.

He even sat still while we opened the blinds. How great was that?

Friday's Feast One Hundred and Eighteen

2006-11-17T19:08:00.000-06:00

Feed your mind
with thought-provoking,
mind-stimulating questions…

visit Friday's Feast:

a buffet for your brain.

Appetizer
Do you believe there is intelligent life on other planets?
Call me cynical, but sometimes I find myself looking for signs of intelligent life on this planet. That wasn't very nice, was it? Really though, it's hard for me to believe that we are all there is.

What do you think?

Soup
What is one thing you said you'd never do, but you eventually did?
Actually I can't think of anything. I learned a long time go "never to say never" because just as soon as you do...you're there. There are things that have happened along the line that have caught me by surprise. For example, when I was young and invincible I thought I would always be...young and invincible. It was quite a rude awakening when I realized I could no longer read the directions on the prescription bottle, let alone the fact that there was a prescription bottle. There are also some things that I have done that I probably should not have, but that is another story!

Salad
Who is the teacher that influenced you the most in school?
I had an English teacher in high school that allowed us to think outside of the box. I remember listening to Elton John's "Madman Across the Water" and dissecting the verses to the songs. Mr. Woods taught one of those classes that I really looked forward to. I also had a journalism teacher that didn't last much more than a year. He was quite impressive - more like a real journalist stuck in a classroom, than a teacher. Rich James now writes for my morning read.

Main Course
If you could trade places with anyone for one day, who would it be and why?
This is a hard one. I wouldn't want to waste it. If I knew I would be back to my same self tomorrow, I think I might like to be dead for a day. Oh, stay with me here for a minute. We spend entirely too much time worrying about who's going to heaven and who's going to hell, and what we have to do to get there. Just think - if I could really and truly be dead for a day, then come back with a definitive answer - we could quit sweating the small stuff and get down to the business of taking care of each other in the here and now. How's that for thinking outside of the box?

Dessert
What is your favorite dish to prepare?
My favorite dish to prepare would have to be my mom's macaroni and cheese. It's a definite comfort thing; not real good for you, but real good to eat - and everyone likes it. Preparation is very easy with macaroni, Velveeta, and Milnot; covered with bacon - cooked until crispy. As with most comfort food, it's even good the second day. Aside from that, I like it when Willi and I cook together which is always a good time for us.

I kind of like cooking up these Friday's Feasts also!

WWC: Conform and Rebel

2006-11-12T19:45:00.000-06:00

The topic of conformity and rebellion reminded me of this magazine for high school students from November 11, 1969. Pretty interesting times.

Highlights of the article are: 53 Connecticut high school boys are suspended because their hair was too long; a 17 year old girl in Brooklyn was defended by the ACLU after being sent home from school for wearing slacks; 20,000 high school students in Chicago boycotted classes for a community voice in the schools, more black teachers and courses in black history; and the Supreme Court agreed that students in Iowa should be allowed to wear black armbands to protest the war in Viet Nam.

Who are the Protesters? According to opinions expressed in this article they are either spoiled brats, hoodlums, radical agitators, or students who feel a need for change in their schools or our society. If you click on this portion of the article you will be able to read the text. There is an interesting exchange between J. Edgar Hoover and a member of the S.D.S.

Courtesy of Odd Mix, the words are Conform and Rebel.

Willi and Cali were more than happy to conform to my request
for the first fire of the season!

The Razorback and the Rebel in blatant defiance of
the "No Couch for Cali" rule.

Cali conforms to the shape of her bed.

. . . . . . . . .

One from the road ...

Morning Moon

I'm a music junkie...

2006-11-10T15:15:00.000-06:00

...and it's all their fault.

Oh, I know they look so wholesome in this picture; just like baseball and apple pie. Those are the ones you have to watch out for. You would never think these loving parents would pass this addiction along to their own child. I'm sure they didn't intend for it to happen, but it did just the same. It all started very innocently; a little song while rocking in the big chair, a tune to pick up toys by, and then a lullaby before bedtime. Who would think a song about an ant and a rubber tree plant could be so insidious.

Pretty soon they brought out the big guns; the Glenn Miller Concerts. Volumes I, II, and III. Then it was Bing Crosby, Frank Sinatra even Mahalia Jackson - no kidding, even Mahalia. I knew all the words to the Rodgers and Hammerstien musicals... Oklahoma, Carousel, South Pacific; you name it.

Before long I was hooked. I had to have some records of my own.

Oh, the smell of vinyl in the morning.

The proof is in the picture. The needle had its grip on me - I craved the sound of the sharp diamond point gliding along the smooth black disks. It wasn't long before I graduated to the hard stuff. Oh, so young. By my sixth birthday it was me and Ricky Nelson. On one side of the 45 we sang Hello Mary Lou and if that wasn't enough I could flip it over and sing Travelin' Man. That's what I call a double shot.

And don't think they didn't use it to their advantage. As soon as I found out you could actually see these guys on television, that was it. I was done for. My entire life hinged on getting my chores done in time for this show...and they knew it.

I could rate a record with the best of them. Not only that, at some point in every show Dick would tell me what the top ten records were. It was then that I found out what an allowance was.

Jeanie at the dimestore became my dealer. Once a week the new tunes would come in and once a week I would give her all I had. In return I would get one, maybe two hits.

In all fairness, the entire blame cannot be placed upon my parents. James played a part in my undoing as well. It was from him that I learned about albums. If I worked a little harder and saved a little longer, I could get a whole bunch of songs all at one time. Yes, he was my first.

The insatiable need for new tunes has permeated my life. From record players to iPods, and from 78's to cd's; there's no ridding myself of this monkey on my back. It follows me where ever I go. Go ahead, name the town. If I've been there I can tell you where to go to fill your need, like here...

or here.

It's all about the music, man. It just gets in your head. It's all about the needle and the damage done. Sorry Neil. It's all about...well, it's actually all about one of the best gifts my parents could have given me.

Thanks.

Bathing Baby

2006-11-07T23:08:00.000-06:00

A little something from back in the day...

Printed in 1953 "The instructions in this booklet are based upon those given to mothers at the famous Maternity Center in New York City. Newly edited and printed, they conform with the most recent medical knowledge and modern methods in child care recommended by doctors and nurses throughout America."

About the bath..."Ther's an art to bathing a baby - but it's one which you can learn with even the first bath. In the early weeks, until the mother has regained her strength, the baby should be bathed on the mother's lap. Later if more convenient, the mother may stand to bathe her baby whether she uses a tub or a bathinette. Presumably you've already picked a time when you will be uninterrupted. Let nothing interrupt you once you've started."

About diapers..."Fold the diaper straight through the center, forming a rectangle - and if the baby is small - fold down one-third, making an extra thickness on the outside - in the back if a girl - in the front if a boy."

About washing the diapers..."No article of baby's clothing calls for greater care in washing than do diapers! Never use a strong soap as it may make the baby's buttocks sore. If boiling is necessary, wring the diapers out of the hot soapy wash water and drop into a diaper pail which contains a light soapy solution. Bring to a boil and boil ten minutes. Rinse diapers thoroughly and dry in the sun..."

Really a wonderful little resource for the mother to be...we've come a long way baby!

WWC and Question of the Week

2006-11-06T05:52:00.000-06:00

This was the question asked of eight "people on the street" for print in Sunday morning's Post-Tribune:

The midterm elections this week have plenty of drama; what races or outcomes are you paying close attention to?

"None of the above, because not one race interests me and they all talk a good game."
"The Porter County sheriff election of Susan Restau and David Lain."
"None. But what gets me is all the negative ads."
"None, because I do not have time and I do not vote."
"Do not really pay attention, but heard the comments that John Kerry said."
"Trying to see who the Democrats will bring in - Obama or Hillary. That's the one I'm watching."
"None of them because I personally believe they are going to do what they want anyway."
"None of them...too busy to be concerned."

Six out of the eight people in this albeit informal poll had no interest. Zip, zilch, zero. That's 75%. Of the remaining 25% that showed any interest at all, one is looking at a local election and the other is looking two years down the pike.

What in the heck is up with that?!!

Courtesy of Odd Mix, the words are Ephemeral and Enduring. This probably was not what he had in mind, but this is where my head is right now...

Although some may see Tuesday's election as ephemeral, the results of our action - or inaction - are enduring.

These sites are great resources to find out about where candidates stand on issues and their past voting records, among other bits of information. You can even search by zip code.

Vote-Smart.org Project Vote Smart

OnTheIssues.org Every Political Leader on Every Issue

GovTrack.us Independently Tracking the United States Congress

This site will give you information for voting and poll locations for your area:

ElectionImpact.Votenet.com Election Protection 365 - People for the American Way Foundation

Happy Birthday, Sunshine!

2006-11-05T06:54:00.000-06:00

Here she is, born 28 years ago today! She was 7 pounds 1.5 ounces, 19 3/4 inches long and the little girl I had dreamed of. There are no traumatic stories with both an easy labor and birth. In fact we pulled the Sunday morning newspaper from the box on the way out of the driveway and by 6:54 a.m. she was born.

Back in the day, we did not have an ultrasound unless the doctor forsaw troubles. I was so thrilled when I found out that I shouted "It's a girl, it's a girl!" The other woman delivering that morning did not have as easy a time as me, evidenced by her notsopleasant screams. When we met each other in the recovery room I asked if she was the one that had the 10 pound baby. She said "Yes...are you the one that had the little girl?"

What a blessing this child has been. Now she is a beautiful young woman with a wonderful husband and a future bright with promise.

And still my sunshine. Happy birthday, Sarah... smile!

Disclaimer - Killed in Iraq

2006-11-02T21:45:00.000-06:00

Ch3ll3 over at Fickle and Whim got me to thinking about something a few weeks back, and it has stayed with me. She disappeared from blogdom for awhile, but she's back now! She caught my attention right off the bat with one very short and simple sentence: "I used to write for me."

Every once in awhile I catch myself nixing a new post because in my mind it probably wouldn't be of interest to anyone but me. Or maybe it might tick somebody off. That might not be a bad thing, at least some of the time anyway. But, I'm tired of skipping over those kinds of things. So, I'm going back to the same reckless abandon I had when I very first started this adventure. You may not even notice a difference, but I will. And that would be a good thing.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

U.S. Military Deaths in Iraq at 2,820
02 November, 2006
Headlines by the Associated Press

Dead Since March 2003:
U. S. Military, 2820
British Military, 120
Italy, 33
Ukraine, 18
Poland, 17
Bulgaria, 13
Spain, 11
Denmark, 6
El Salvador, 5
Slovakia, 3
Estonia, Netherlands, Thailand, 2 each
Australia, Hungary, Kazakhstan, Latvia, Romania, 1 each

U.S. Military Deaths in October: 105
Four were teenagers.
Thirty were 21 or younger.
The oldest was 53.
It was the fourth deadliest month and the worst since January 2005.

Kraig Foyteck was killed in Iraq Monday. He should have been finished up in August, but the day he was supposed to leave he was told he would be staying for a few more months. One-third of the American casualties in October were already scheduled to be home. About 30 percent were on their second or third tours, according to the Chicago Tribune.

Kraig was 26. He graduated from high school in Skokie, Illinois. He was awarded a Purple Heart in December.

This is him mom, Connie. She lives in LaPorte, Indiana. This is the picture I cannot shake.

This needs to stop.

If you would like to learn more about Kraig Foytek, follow this link to a CBS2 Chicago Video Report.

A Treat for Halloween

2006-10-30T22:25:00.000-06:00

One of my very favorite treats when I was a kid was to find that my parents had included PEZ as a part of a holiday surprise. It wasn't a sure thing and that made it even more special. There it would be; in a Christmas stocking, an Easter basket, or even for Halloween.

As the years passed I began to include them in holiday surprises for my own children. What do you do with the PEZ dispenser when the candy is all gone? Well, in our house you tucked it away just in case someone might gift you with a pack of those fruit flavored gems. After all, you just never know when the need for a dispenser may arise!

I hadn't really given it much thought until I found myself face to face with a Halloween PEZ display at the fabric shop on Saturday. My kids are grown and I am yet to have a grandchild to share these prizes with *hint*. So, I did what any self respecting woman of my age would do. I brought one home anyway.

Jay asks what everyone is giving out to the kiddos this Halloween. Our basket is full of Smartees and Starbursts.

But I am saving the PEZ for myself! Trick or Treat!

WWC and a little blither.

2006-10-29T12:11:00.000-06:00

Courtesy of Odd Mix, the words are Lame and Late.

This picture was taken on the banks of the Ohio River. Granted the river is much higher than our last visit, so the fossil beds we explored in past trips are under water - but the garbage floating in the river, i.e. plastic bottles and even a tire, was pretty Lame. Remember Woodsy Owl?

This Late blooming Iris was in all its glory on Bardstown Road in Louisville. It must have been going for a second round...ours are done by the time summer rolls around.

This afternoon I heard a rapid tapping outside the window. Hanging upside down from the vent was a little Downy Woodpecker. Here is my Lame attempt at catching him through the window with my camera.

Blog Blither - that pile of clippings left over from the weekend papers.

In this morning's Times there was a blurb in the Lifestyles section about the book Applebee's America. Maybe you have read it. Its supposed to be "a roadmap for success whether you are selling a product, a concept or a candidate." The authors offer a 12 question quiz to determine whether you belong to the "red tribe" (Republican), "blue tribe" (Democrat), or are a "tipper" - meaning you could go either way. Their contention is "that your lifestyle - what's in your refrigerator or your garage - says as much about your politics as your position on gay marriage or whether you live in a red or blue state."

It looks like an interesting read just based on this comment by Amy Goldstein of the Washington Post “…Applebee's America offers a readable and useful way of thinking about what our politicians, corporations and religions are trying to do to us -- and how they are doing it.” — September 12, 2006. I guess I'd like to know what they're thinking I'm thinking.

Willi and I both took the quiz. It was pretty short and simple. It was also wrong on both counts. Click here if you would like to take the quiz, too. I'd be interested in knowing if you think it gave an accurate read.
- - - - - - - - - - - -
According to the Associated Press, rescuers ended their search for a manatee that had apparently swam 700 miles up the Mississippi River to the Memphis riverfront. They were hoping to haul it by truck to Florida. Manatees are endangered and cannot survive in the cool northern waters. I was really hoping this story would have a happy ending.
- - - - - - - - - - - -
Michael J. Fox was lambasted for his appearance in recent political campaign ads suppporting candidates who are in favor of stem cell research. Anything we can do to bring the worth of this research to the forefront should be done. I applaud him for his efforts.
- - - - - - - - - - - -

Finally...if you made it this far, here is some eye candy.

To see the full 70 second ad, click here. You'll love it. I sure did!

The Potter's Place

2006-10-28T20:19:00.000-05:00

Hadley Pottery is a little "out of the way" place we found several years ago when we first visited Louisville. It is almost hidden in what seems to be an industrial area. From the street all you see is the sign out front advertising show room hours. If you venture inside, there is quite a find if you like the old time look of this pottery.

The building was purchased for Mrs. Hadley in 1944 as a birthday present. She must have been quite the artist, creating the original freehand designs on each piece of pottery.

Very little has changed at the pottery since her death in 1965. Her designs continue to be painted freehand on each individual piece. The prices are reasonable and most of all, it is great fun rummaging through the many shelves of artwork. If you are a bargain shopper like me, there is an area in the rear of the store where you can find some even greater deals.

This pretty lady is one of the artists that carry on the M. A. Hadley tradition. She was just a lovely as she looks!

Sometimes we just look, but this time we found a nice bargain! If you have the occasion to visit Louisville, here is a place worthy of your time.

Friday's Feast One Hundred and Seventeen

2006-10-26T22:11:00.000-05:00

Feed your mind
with thought-provoking,
mind-stimulating questions…

visit Friday's Feast:

a buffet for your brain.

Appetizer
Create a new candle scent.
My new candle scent would be called "Grandma's Apron". If I close my eyes I can remember the smell of her hugs; like clean laundry fresh off the clothesline on a crisp spring day. It's a comfort thing.

Soup
Name one way you show affection to others.
I'm a hugger at heart. I can't help it.

Salad
What is your favorite writing instrument?
A regular old #2 pencil works well for me...the kind with a nice orange eraser on the end. Pencils are very forgiving of my mistakes. That's a good thing!

Main Course
If you were given $25 to spend anywhere online, from which site would you buy?
I'd head on over to Village Records for some new tunes.
That was easy!

Dessert
Are you dressing up for Halloween? If so, what are you going to be?
Nope - that's not me. I leave the Halloween duty for Willi since he enjoys it so much. It's a lot more fun to watch him with the kids. Me and the dog hang back and keep the treats a comin'.

What would your wish be?

2006-10-26T05:46:00.000-05:00

Meet Banner. This picture was taken last spring at one of our local county parks. You are being introduced to Banner because his owner gifted me all kinds of good luck. I am now the proud owner of one of Banner's horseshoes.

From what I am told, a horseshoe must be given after it is removed from the horse's foot in order for the luck to remain intact. You cannot find one on the side of the road, for when it is lost, the luck is lost with it. Looks like lots of rules here.

A horseshoe hung in your home is supposed to protect your family and attract good fortune. Works for me.

Some of my friends said to hang the horseshoe ends up makind it a holding tank for all of the luck floating around the house.

Others said to hang the horseshoe ends down so that the luck will flow out over the threshold, keeping evil out. I don't know if I buy that one.

Then I read that you should use a combination of both. The thought was that once it got full, it would need to be emptied so that everyone could share in the good luck. Sounds good, but awfully high maintenance.

I'm opting to hang it ends up. If it overflows, that's ok with me. But first, I am told you are supposed to make a wish. I'll have to think about this one.

What would your wish be?

WWC and a bit of a jig.

2006-10-22T19:47:00.000-05:00

Home again, home again, jiggety jig jig. Getting away is great, but it's so nice to get back home. The trip was well spent and the fall colors were better than expected. We found some fun, out of the ordinary places I would like to share later in the week. And, I'll let Willi tell you about our visit with Tim Krekel, save to say every time we hear Tim we think it can't get any better, and then he raises it up a notch! Congratulations are in order as Alan Jackson just recorded "Anywhere on Earth You Are" which was a Tim Krekel co-write.

We started this morning at the Falls of the Ohio saying goodbye to Louisville from the Indiana side of the Ohio River. The weather changed to cloudy 40's compared to the sunny 60's yesterday. Time to go home!

It seems as though the colors became more intense between the drive south on Thursday, and the trip home today. Willi braved off-ramp traffic to get this beautiful photo of Sumac in Columbus, Indiana.

We decided to take the back roads from Indianapolis to Lafayette. You know... if the trees are beautiful here, they have got to be better over there. So we did, and they were.

As we rounded a bend in Lafayette, Willi saw the stand of trees in this picture. We backed up and took a turn, then decided to keep going. It could only get better, right?

Pretty soon there were no more trees; just corn fields, a dark foreboding sky, and ...

a bunch of roads with number names like 500 East and 300 North. What's up with that?!! This looked a bit like the Wizard of Oz to me, or Children of the Corn. Not only that - the Colts were supposed to play at 3:00. Geez. Willi kept us due North thinking eventually we would hit a major road. And we did. Now I know why there is a compass embedded in my rearview mirror.

It was an enjoyable adventure, but it's good to be home again, home again, jiggety jig jig!

Courtesy of Odd Mix, the words are Delicate and Intense.

The intensity of the Louisville skyline is masked by the delicate autumn lace.

Peace is possible, delicately said

Another thought, said with greater intensity

Drive South

2006-10-18T18:16:00.001-05:00

"We're always looking for true north,
with our heads in the clouds, just a little off course.
I left the motor running, now if you're feeling down and out
Come on baby drive south, with the one you love."
-John Hiatt

Thank heavens it's fall break. Neither of us have been out of this corner of the state since early last spring. Although Willi had a summer break, it didn't amount to much since we were bound to my new job. So, albeit short and hopefully sweet, we are heading south for a couple of days. The drive through southern Indiana should be magnificent this time of year. And best of all, we will be able to catch a singer songwriter we have grown quite fond of. Sounds pretty good all around to me.

For those of you who played my guessing game in the last post, I am the little girl in banana curls and crooked bangs, right above the word "Gary". Willi and Ginnie guessed right. Willi had a definite advantage.

I was almost seven in this picture. Some things remain the same...the chubby cheeks, for example. I remember my mom setting my hair in pink sponge rollers to make those curls. We had to be very careful taking them out, or man, did it hurt.

If you are interested, I found a few nuggets this week while sifting through the infamous boxes. If you click on the picture, they should open in a new window, just a little larger.

This was my mom's yearbook from the year she graduated, 1937. Although she was born and raised in Decatur, Illinois, she ended up in Gary for her last year of high school. I'm not quite sure why, since her family stayed in Decatur. Another mystery!

The entire yearbook is filled with autographs and signatures next to pictures. This seems pretty amazing since she was only there one year. I graduated in 1973 and don't remember there being very much of that, although I was with the same group of kids for almost nine years. Things change.

William A. Wirt was the Superintendent at that time. I have heard quite a bit about his Work- Study-Play model of education. According to Wikipedia,

"He initiated teacher hiring standards, designed school buildings, lengthened the school day, and organized the schools according to his ideals. Outside of Gary, over 200 cities in forty-one states experimented with the platoon system, and in 1925, the National Association for the Study of the Platoon or Work-Study-Play School Organization formed to publicize the advantages of the platoon system. William Wirt not only received national recognition, but also gained worldwide fame from England to Japan."

Pretty interesting stuff when you consider how Gary schools are doing today.

Here is an interesting note. If any of you remember Tom Harmon of sports fame both as a player and announcer, he is the first boy pictured above. I remember my mom telling me she went to high school with him. Lo and behold, there he is.

There is my mom in the second row, first picture. She was a pretty girl I think. I miss her a bit tonight. Sharing is nice.

Well, say goodbye to the dog and the kids. Pack up the bags and jump in the car. Come on baby, let's drive south!

See you in a few...

WWC and some old stuff, too.

2006-10-15T18:38:00.000-05:00

Courtesy of Odd Mix, the words are Hello and Goodbye.

Hello fall...

Goodbye dollars.

Hello

Goodbye

Just for fun...

Gettin' a little big for your britches

Quite a balancing act
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Willi and I hit the new Border's today for the annual Educator Discount event. One of the nice things about music shopping at Border's is the listening stations. Everything always looks good to me. This gives me an opportunity to listen to it and then decide. Today I carried around new music from Chip Taylor and someone I had not heard before, Amos Lee; both sounded pretty good.

Then I came across a pretty neat book and the author was to arrive shortly for a signing. So I decided to nix the new cd's and go for the book instead. The book is entitled "Gary, Indiana: A Centennial Celebration". This is really cool for me as I begin to work through the boxes of things that my mom had saved. Both of my parents graduated from high school in Gary. That is where they were married and I was born. It should be fun tying the things from the boxes to the timeline in the book.

Here is one of the pictures I found of my mom. I am told she did some modeling back in the day. She is in the driver's seat. Naturally.

This was an interesting article in Weekly Reader from January, 1963. Remember those? I think if you click on these photos you will see a larger image.

Here is a picture of my first grade class at Gary Lutheran School. My teacher was Mrs. Clark. I can't believe I remember that.

Which one do you think is me? Aw come on and guess!

Autumn Snow

2006-10-12T19:27:00.000-05:00

Most mornings I manage to get out of the house just in time to sit for an hour or so at the stoplight, waiting to cross the highway. This morning was no exception. At least the heater had kicked in. The thermometer on the rearview mirror confirmed that it was coat weather. At 31 degrees, it was little colder than normal this time of year for us Hoosiers.

Being the first in line, I had a clear view of the beautiful sky to the south. It was amazing; deep dark blue with clearly defined white full clouds all along the skyline. As I followed the horizon along to the west it got better and better. The colors changed from blue to shades of salmon, then orange and finally gold where the sun was about to rise. There I was, eyes and mouth wide open staring at the sky outside my driver's side window. It was then that I realized why the guy behind me was laying on his horn.

On through the light I was able to pull over and take this picture just as the sun was coming up. Admittedly, I am not a photographer. And it would have been much nicer without the utility lines, but I was pretty pleased with it when I got home. It was an awesome autumn sunrise.

My office has no windows. It's a bit of a joke with my co-workers. I never had windows in all of my 14 years. Last year I finally moved to an office with a beautiful view, just in time for winter snow. With a change of position in June came a new office. With no windows.

Everyone knows I love the snow. A little after nine they came bounding in to my office to remind me that I really needed a window...so I could see the snow! No kidding!

Granted, it wasn't a heavy lasting snow; but it was coming down just the same. The trees are in the midst of their fall glory, and already old man winter is knocking at the door!

Blast from the Past

2006-10-10T20:33:00.000-05:00

In the process of sorting through boxes of my mom's scrapbooks and memorabilia, I came across an old scrapbook of mine. It picked up in 1965 and ended in 1969, my ages 10 to 14. There were pictures of classmates, vacations and neighborhood friends, and cards from various birthdays.

And then came the fun stuff...my entire collection of WLS Radio Top 40 Countdowns. No laughing. Radio was important back in the day. Boy those are great to look through all these years later.

As I typed the list below, the variety of styles and groups was striking. Abraham, Martin and John, by Dion just up the list from Tammy Wynette and Stand by Your Man; Cloud Nine by the Temptations followed by Glen Campbell and The Witchita Lineman. Now that's what I call diversity. Throw in a little Canned Heat, The Doors, and Aretha - what a bunch of good memories.

WLS Radio Top 40, December 30, 1968

1. I Heard it Through the Grapevine-Marvin Gaye
2. Things I'd Like to Say-New Colony Six
3. I'm Gonna Make You Love Me-Supremes/Temptations
4. Crimson and Clover-Tommy James/Shondells
5. Son of a Preacher Man-Dusty Springfield
6. I Love How You Love Me-Bobby Vinton
7. Stormy-Classics IV
8. Soulful Strut-Young Holt Unlimited
9. Abraham, Martin and John-Dion
10.For Once in My Life-Stevie Wonder
11. Cinnamon-Derek
12. Hang 'em High-Boooker T and the MG's
13. Going up the Country-Canned Heat
14. Bella Linda-Grassroots
15. Cloud Nine-Temptations
16. Witchita Lineman-Glen Campbell
17. Love Child-Diana Ross/Supremes
18. Worst That Could Happen-Brooklyn Bridge
19. Hooked on a Feeling-B.J. Thomas
20. Both Sides Now-Judy Collins
21. Condition Red-Goodees
22. Can't Turn You Loose-Chambers Brothers
23. If I Can Dream-Elvis Presley
24. Till-The Vogues
25. Lo Mucho Que te Quiero-Rene/Rene
26. Papa's Got a Brand New Bag-Otis Redding
27. Scarborough Fair-Sergio Mendes/Brazil '66
28. Too Weak to Fight-Clarence Carter
29. Ray of Hope-The Rascals
30. Hey Jude-Wilson Pickett
31. Goodnight My Love-Paul Anka
32. I Started a Joke-BeeGees
33. Touch Me-The Doors
34. Stand by Your Man-Tammy Wynette
35. Someone to Love Me-Bobby Vee
36. My Favorite Things-Herb Alpert
37. See Saw-Aretha Franklin
38. Goody Goody Gumdrops-1910 Fruitgum Company
39. Everyday People-Sly and the Family Stone
40. California Soul-Fifth Dimension

Does anyone remember a Chicago band, the Cryan Shames? This was my first live music experience with a real band I had heard on the radio. They played at the high school gym. The Wilshires opened for them, along with an all girl band called the Powder Puffs. Larry Lujak, from WLS was the DJ.

One of the members, Jim Pilster (J.C. Hooke) has a hook in place of his left hand.

All of the girls had autograph books and were clammering at the stage following the show. I was right in there with the rest of them. One of the guys from the Wilshires signed my book. They hadn't made it big and were a little more interested in having fans.

When I finally got up to where the Cryan Shames were, Jim Pilster took a whack at the back of my book with his hook and told me that was my autograph.

Was that cool or what? I mean really, sometimes it's the simple pleasures in life.

WWC and a little more.

2006-10-08T17:15:00.000-05:00

Courtesy of Odd Mix, the words for this week are High and Low.

High and Mighty Oak

Low, but with great possibility!

High or low?
Originally this was to be my "High" picture. However, I decided that whether it is high or low is really relative. In the hands of some it is divisive, controlling and destructive. In the hands of others it is inclusive; an emblem of grace, social justice and peace. Which is it for you?

This crabby apple does not go gently into the fall!

Blog Blither - that pile of clippings left over from last week's papers.

It has become painfully apparent that there are many things I just was not aware of, pre-blogdom. I have often said that Google is my best friend, particularly when I see a phrase that mystifies me. That's right, I have no pride. If I don't know what it is, I'll probably tell you. Then I will look it up. Sometimes I'll ask my daughter. And then I will look it up anyway to see if she really knows. (We'll see if she's reading this...)

Today's Post Tribune led me to the Buzzword Dictionary.
All right, this could be a help! The definition of buzzword? Important sounding words or phrases primarily used to impress laymen. Here are a few more:

404: A derogatory term used to describe someone who is totally clueless...Comes from the pesky error message on computers: 404 Not Found. I guess that would be me.

Deja moo: The nagging feeling that you've heard this bull before. Cute. I'll have to remember this one.

Job Spill: When work cuts into your person time. At least there is a name for it now.

Verbicidal: Condition that exists when a person believes he or she is skilled in the use of words (a verbalist) but in reality is grammatically challenged. OK, I fessed up to the 404 thing so I'm not going to touch this one.

Dixie-Chicked: To be reviled or boycotted for voicing an unpopular political sentiment. My mother did teach me about polite company not discussing politics or religion. I try to refrain from this too awfully much. But sometimes I just can't help myself.

This is one of those times...Dixie-Chicked or not.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

In Thursday's paper there were a few paragraphs about President Bush's statement that "when the final history is written on Iraq, it will look like just a comma." There was speculation regarding his intent and its origin; possibly Gracie Allen and/or Pat Robertson.

It was also reported in Thursday's paper that 27 year old Staff Sgt. Jonathan Rojas was shot by a sniper Tuesday in Baghdad. He was instructing other soldiers from the top of a tank when a sniper's bullet caught him in the back of the head. Staff Sgt. Rojas was assigned to the 1st Battalion, 17th Infantry Regiment, 172nd Stryker Brigade Combat Team. He was headed home two months ago, but agreed to stay longer, promising his family in Hammond (a few miles North of here) that he would be home in time for Christmas.

From the Times: "William Rojas said his brother Jonathan served as a role model to him, remaining in close touch with his family by calling at least once a week. He last spoke with his mother Friday. Born in Mexico, the Rojas brothers joined their family in Hammond in 1990, when Jonathan was 11 and William 7. They knew no English then but quickly adapted to life in Hammond, with Jonathan playing soccer and baseball in school. William Rojas said his brother attended PUC for a year and worked at a glass company before deciding to enlist in 1999. Jonathan Rojas met his wife, Tasha Lynn, while stationed in Fort Benning, Ga. The couple were living on base in Alaska when Jonathan Rojas was assigned to serve in Iraq. They would have been married four years on Oct. 25."

Jonathan Rojas is the 66th person from Indiana to be killed in Iraq. As of this post, more than 22,000 have been seriously injured or killed in this war. I saw a bumper sticker the other day that said "Blind faith in bad leaders is not patriotism."

A comma to some is a period to others.

Amen and Amen.

Friday's Feast One Hundred and Fourteen

2006-10-05T20:46:00.000-05:00

Feed your mind
with thought-provoking,
mind-stimulating questions…

visit Friday's Feast:

a buffet for your brain.

Appetizer
Name a song you know by heart.
You are my sunshine, my only sunshine.
You make me happy when skies are gray.
You'll never know dear, how much I love you.
Please don't take my sunshine away!

My mom sang it to me, and I to my daughter.

Soup
What will you absolutely not do in front of another person?
Stick my finger in my nose. See? I can't even say it.

Salad
How often do you use mouthwash and what kind do you like?
I kind of like the new citrus flavored Listerine, but only when I have a sore throat.

Main Course
Finish this sentence: I am embarrassed when...
I am terribly embarrassed when someone recognizes me from back in the day and, for that minute that seems like an eternity, I cannot connect. This always amazes me because my appearance has changed dramatically. How do they know? Last week I attended a meeting in a neighboring school corporation. One of my counterparts took me by the hand to meet her secretary, who she said recognized me from high school. Mind you, this was 33+ years ago. Once again my fear materialized right in front of my eyes. It reminds me of a scene from "Hook", the Peter Pan remake. The little boy is looking deep into an adult Peter Pan's eyes, while holding his face closely, his hands on Pan's cheeks. He is searching for the Pan he remembers from years before. Everyone is quiet. He cocks his head, squints his eyes, and exclaims, "Oh, there you are Peter!" That's what I am looking for, but cannot seem to find fast enough. How embarrassing.

Dessert
What was the last food you craved?
That's easy. Red beans and rice.

Its a Mystery to Me

2006-10-03T18:33:00.000-05:00

There's a story I remember hearing from my mom at different times in my life. It was about my dad and an accident that occurred while he was in New Orleans in 1944. My dad never talked about it, but then again he never discussed his time in the service at all. At one point I remember seeing a newspaper clipping that gave a brief account of the accident. It was one of those "On this day in 1944" (fill in the year) columns. Although I thought the article would eventually surface in my mom's papers and photographs, it has yet to appear. Both my parents are gone now. What remains are bits and pieces of conversations and some items my mom tucked away in one of the boxes I found in the fruit cellar. This is how the story goes:

My dad and several buddies were on leave in the French Quarter. They had made an evening of it and wound up in the shop of a fortune teller. She told them that she saw a watery death for all of them, except one, who would survive. The next night a horrific storm came upon Lake Pontchartrain. A military boat capsized in the storm and many men drowned including all that were with my dad the night before. He lived to see another day.

Here is what I have been able to piece together so far. The picture below is of my mom and dad at Jackson Square, New Orleans, in February of 1944. At this time she was living in Illinois and must have gone to visit my dad for Valentines Day. She stayed in the Jung Hotel from February 14th to the 18th. My dad must have been stationed there for a time before going over seas.

My dad is in this photograph, in the back row standing to the right and in front of the tree.

There are notes my dad made on the back of the picture listing all of the men by name. There are checks by some. The sentence at the bottom reads: "The names with the check at them were not in the boat with us, they were in the rescue boat."

There is a change of address card dated August 1944 from Camp Reynolds, PA to the Postmaster, New York. This must have been when he shipped out. He was in the 34th Infantry, "Red Bull Division". On February 14th, 1945, he was in Montecatini, Italy on temporary pass.

A few years ago, pre-Google, I spent awhile tracking down information on Andrew Higgins and his Higgins Boat which is given credit as the boat that won the war. It was manufactured in New Orleans and tested on Lake Pontchartrain. At one point I traded e-mails with a gentleman working on an exhibit for the World War II Museum in New Orleans. He did not recall coming across any information regarding an accident in his findings. I wonder if it wasn't one of those things that might have gotten swept under the rug since it wasn't good publicity. In those days there was much greater control of the press.

So that's my story. There appears to be much, much more information available today on the web than when I worked on this the last time. Who knows! Maybe someone out there will read this post and be able to fill in some more blanks...and that would be a good thing.

If there is a moral here, it would have to be this: my mom took many stories with her from back in the day. Some wonderful and some not so, but they are gone except for the bits and pieces I can put together. And I am. And I am writing them down for my kids.

WWC and some other thoughts.

2006-10-01T19:51:00.000-05:00

Courtesy of Odd Mix, the words are Provide and Restore.
OK, go with me on this one...

Provide

Restore

Blog Blither - that pile of clippings left over from the weekend papers.

From the Associated Press:

On Friday, the Senate voted 80 - 19 to authorize fencing along one-third, or 700 miles, of the U.S. - Mexico border. No one knows how much it will cost, but a seperate bill on the way to the White House authorizes a $1.2 billion down payment. Two steel walls with floodlights, surveillance cameras and motion detectors would run along segments of the 1,952-mile border that now experience the most illegal crossings. It is estimated that building two rigid, steel-mesh barriers with a paved road between will cost $2.2 billion, though the price tag could be almost twice that, based on the actual cost of a much shorter 14-mile fence under construction in San Diego which is costing $126.5 million.

Tom Russell is an artist I have come to enjoy over the last few years. He has a bit of the outlaw in him, and he never minces words, which I appreciate. He lives on the border and has released a five-song ep called "Who's Gonna Build Your Wall". Here's what he has to say...

"Who's gonna build your wall, boys?
Who's gonna mow your lawn?
Who's gonna cook your Mexican food,
when your Mexican maid is gone?
Who's gonna wax the floors tonight
down at your local mall?
Who's gonna wash your baby's face?
Who's gonna build your wall?

The rains came one afternoon and washed a fox up on my back porch. He was moving slow and shaky. He had one eye on the housing development that had eaten up his habitat and one eye cocked on my right leg. Meat. That's the term Gypsies use for “other” people. Meat. Foxes think the same way. The foxes, road runners, skunks, lizards, snakes, hawks and jack rabbits are trying to take to new covered ground, and there ain't none. Now the government wants to build a wall and kick out all the people who helped build the goddamn housing projects in the first place. Good luck. There's 800 miles of open border between my house and San Diego." —Tom Russell

Well, Tom. Here comes your wall.

Have any of you thought about this? What do you think?

------------------------------------

A 36% cap would be imposed on annual interest rates for payday loans to military service members or their spouses under an agreement reached Friday by House and Senate Republicans.

Boy. Thanks for that, guys.

------------------------------------

Scientists have used stem cells from human embryos to save the sight of lab rats suffering from an eye disease similar to macular degeneration. My mom had macular degeneration, and so do 30 million others. It is the leading cause of vision loss in people over the age of 55 and involves central vision tasks such as reading and driving.

I'm almost there. How old are you?

-------------------------------------

A recently released studyfound that one out of eight heart attack patients quit taking their life-saving drugs one month after leaving the hospitaland are three times more likely to die during the next year than patients who stayed on their medication. Researchers also found that these patients are also more likely to be older, single and less educated and cost is a factor.

No kidding. I find prescription medication cost prohibitive...and I have insurance.

-------------------------------------

Well, I wonder how many have made it to this part of the post. If you have, then stay with me just a little bit longer. Over the weekend I ended up in a conversation with someone who was suggesting that women should vote for Hillary Clinton for President because she is a woman. This might have been light-hearted as much as it was serious. Being the nudge that I am, I took it seriously. There are issues that far outweigh gender, religion, or party affiliation. How did we get where we are today? The most important thing is to make an decision. And vote. Who knows? Maybe Hillary will end up being the best choice. But if she does get my vote, it won't be because she is a woman.

Friday's Feast One Hundred and Thirteen

2006-09-28T20:56:00.000-05:00

Feed your mind
with thought-provoking,
mind-stimulating questions…

visit Friday's Feast:

a buffet for your brain.

Appetizer
What is your favorite herb or spice?
Coming into fall, my first thought is of cinnamon and clove for hot cider. Aside from that, we use a dry rub on most everything we grill that is simple, but to die for - salt, paprika, pepper, and brown sugar. I'm also considering a venture into the world of pesto, so that would be basil.

Soup
Name a song you like but haven't heard in a long time.
Right in Time by Lucinda Williams from Car Wheels on a Gravel Road. The best Lucinda is the old stuff.

Salad
If you were to take just one minute to write down as many things as you can think of that you need (not want) to do, approximately how many things would there be?
Three. Maybe. My needs are not great!

Main Course
Tell something interesting about one of your family members (nothing scandalous, please, just something unique).
My son-in-law was a founding player of the improv group Rice Pilaf during his days at Taylor University. He is a wonderful addition to our family. Between he and willi, there is never a dull moment at our dinner table.

Dessert
What's the latest you've ever stayed awake?
Back in the day I would pull all-nighters. Those days are long gone. Now I'm lucky to stay up past 10:00 and still make it up at 5:30 for work. It's hell to get old, but I'll take it any day considering the alternative!

Goodbye, Tomatoes!

2006-09-26T21:30:00.000-05:00

For me, there’s nothing better than a bright red tomato, ripened in the sun, preferably from my own garden. I’m talking about a tomato that is so good and juicy; all you need is a salt shaker. No knife, no fork, just a pinch of salt and a big bite, with juice running all the way down my arm to my elbow. Even better if they're still a little warm from the sun. Back in the day we would buy tomatoes by the bushel from Luebcke's Farmstand and set them on the back porch with some napkins and one of those tin salt shakers, the kind with the handle on the side. Everyone would help themselves. What was left ended up in ball jars in the fruitcellar, and eventually in a pot of chili or spaghetti sauce. This year we were the grateful recipients of what must have been a bumpercrop for some friends of ours. We ate the last one over the weekend.

Plant `em in the spring;
eat `em in the summer.
All winter with out `em's a culinary bummer.
Only two things that money can't buy, that's true love and homegrown tomatoes.
-Guy Clark

Ah, lament the passing of summer and homegrown tomatoes! What are we left with? An unsavory little product of Purdue University's genetic engineering. In the early 70's I attended a summer horticulture program at Purdue, where they were working to develop a tomato that would ripen slower, travel farther, and stay on the grocery store shelf longer.

Sadly enough, they hit their mark. This tomato has been sitting on the cabinet for well over a month. I thought it might ripen, but no, it's just as hard and orange as when I brought it home. This tomato has outlasted two grocery bags full of garden tomatoes.

Having a tomato in my salad in December is nice. I guess. I'm just not sure the gain was worth the loss. Come on Purdue! Maybe you could go back to the drawing board one more time and give it the old college try. You can do it Boilers, I know you can!

WWC and the morning papers.

2006-09-23T20:08:00.000-05:00

Willi and I always start out our morning with coffee and the newspapers. This has become our ritual. Enough time is built into the waking hour so we can read, share, critique, complain and on occasion, do some editorializing of our own. Sometimes he reads an article to me, interjecting his own verbiage. On occasion he does it so well that I can't tell where the real article ends and he begins, that is until it becomes so outlandish even I, the gullible one, see through it. It's always interesting to compare the reporting via the political slants of the papers, the Times (R) and the Post Tribune (D). You almost have to read them both to get the whole story.

Most mornings I can manage to find some good news interspersed with the usual gloom and doom. If not good news, maybe something that will make me laugh, or at least giggle. For example, last week we followed the story of the power hungry mayor of a neighboring town who harassed the fire chief into resignation. The final straw came when the mayor found fault with, of all things, a sign at the fire station honoring the 9/11 volunteers. This fire chief, the fourth in five years, lasted three months. The town functions so much like Mayberry, you just have to laugh.

This morning's papers had no redeeming qualities, except of course for Opus. After reading about Indiana's high school dropout rate and overcrowding in the local jails, I moved on to the world news. A bombing in Iraq kills 38, mostly women and children in line at a gas station...well you get the picture.

Searching for something a little more light-hearted led me to the horoscopes. In my former life, pre-Willi, I read the horoscopes every morning. Times were not the best and every once in awhile they actually forecast something good or exciting - heaven knows, we all need that. On the other hand, anything that had the slightest possibility of preventing me from stepping in "it" was greatly appreciated. Mind you, I didn't plan my life around them but on some days I certainly ducked when told to. At any rate, today I found my giggle...

Sagittarius (Nov. 22 - Dec. 21):

The Times (R)
Neither too-big ideas nor a too-big mouth will serve you well now. Keep a low profile to avoid stirring up resentments - although you may think you have all the answers now, chances are you do not.

The Post Tribune (D)
You choose the right words and make a difference. You have some imaginative and intuitive thoughts. Try putting one or two into action. You might be delighted by the outcome.

Courtesy of Odd Mix, the words are Objective and Value.

Objective

Value

A clean desktop: Friday 's objective and Monday 's value.

And finally, making mowing the lawn a valuable objective.

A rock and a hard place.

2006-09-21T20:32:00.000-05:00

The elementary school down the road from our house was where I worked a few years back. This was before Columbine, 9/11 and Homeland Security. We actually thought we were pretty safe and sound in our own little corner of the world. In a small town like ours, everyone knew you and your kids, maybe even your parents and grandparents depending on how long you lived there.

Richard was a fixture in our town. He was a nice enough guy. We would usually see him on his bicycle or walking on the side of road. Sometimes he would be in the plowed fields picking up rocks, arrowheads, or other mementos he found in the overturned soil. He was right around my age, 40 or so. Friends said that when he was younger someone had slipped him a mickey, and he never was the same. Nonetheless, he was a happy sort who pretty much kept to himself. Everyone seemed ok with that, and he did, too.

One usual day at work, I sensed someone standing in front of my desk, looked up, and there he was. He wore a plaid flannel shirt, jeans, work boots, and an army jacket. His hands looked as though he had been in the fields collecting rocks. All in all, he had the appearance of a working man. He emptied his pockets onto the top of my desk. There were about a dozen rocks of various sizes, shapes and colors and the usual pocket fuzz, which he sorted out and put back in his pocket. He told me about the rocks with great amazement. I blinked my eyes, opened my mouth, and he was gone; in and out of the school in a matter of minutes. It was a singular conversation, no response was necessary, and exclusive of everyone else in the office.

This ritual was repeated every couple of weeks or so. We thought maybe he visited because this was where he went to school as a little boy. There was always a pile of rocks on my desk. Some of them were arrowheads which eventually made their way into the classrooms. Some were pebbles that ended up outside as a rock garden. My favorites were two rocks which he explained were used by the Indians to grind grain into meal. I always thought they were just two rocks which fit very nicely together, my proverbial "rock and hard place".

Toward the spring of the second year his behavior appeared a little different. In as long as it took his clean shaven face to become stubble and then bearded, his clothing followed suit. His speech faltered and within days he made no sense at all. Along with the rocks, came cigarette butts, tabs from pop cans, and many other things that found their way into his pockets.

It really was an easy decision. We had to call the police and have him picked up. It took a bit of doing to convince the chief that this was not a good situation. After all, everyone knew Richard and he was "ok". Finally he told me to call the next time he came, and as usual, he was in and out in minutes. By the time they caught up with him he was several blocks away. It took three officers to subdue him and boy, were they surprised. Shortly after, an alarm system was installed.

It turns out that Richard had been living with his father, who suffered a stroke. He was not being cared for and what we saw was the result of not having medication. He was hospitalized, they straightened out his medicine, and he came out of it in great shape.

This was one of those "damned if you do and damned if you don't" situations - couldn't take a chance with the kids, knew he wasn't taking care of himself, but sure hoped that he would be ok. I'm so glad it turned out well, but it sure felt like being caught...

between a rock and a hard place.

It's a comfort thing.

2006-09-19T21:17:00.000-05:00

Fall is my favorite season. It's early. It's not here yet, but it's coming. I can feel it. The temperatures this week are in the 60's during the day, with a cool 40 tonight and maybe even the mid 30's tomorrow night. Yahoo! Pretty soon the leaves will start to turn and it will be beautiful. The best sleeping weather ever; cool nights with the windows open just enough. The mornings will be crisp and cool, and there will be frost on the lawn. The Farmer's Almanac warns of cold spells and significant snowfalls for the winter, or so my friend Rita tells me. Soon we will have a fire in the fireplace, and that's a comfort thing.

We had a pot of chili tonight. It's not beautiful. It's just chili...but it was good. You're supposed to make chili when the weather gets cold. I know that to be true, because that's what my mom did. In fact, it's kind of interesting because when I first married and started doing mom things, naturally she was the one I wanted to be like. So, I called for her chili recipe. Although she did not have a recipe per say, she did her best to pass along the ingredients and measurements. Try as I did, it never came out as good as hers. It took me many years and even more pots of chili to get it right. I always wondered, in my heart of hearts, if she intentionally left something out so that home was the place to come for chili, because she knew it was a comfort thing.

There are many things that are a comfort; a long flannel nightgown my daughter gave me, my old grey sweatpants, hearing my husband play his guitar. For my son, it was a woolen blanket with a satin binding, and my husband has a serape from South America that is his second skin every winter. I wore one of my dad's plaid wool shirts until it was threadbare, and even then it hung in the closet for awhile. It made me feel warm inside, and made me smile. It was a comfort thing.

So, what about you? Do you have a comfort thing?

WWC and some other letters too.

2006-09-17T22:45:00.000-05:00

Courtesy of Odd Mix, the words this week are Touch and Release. Instead of having one picture of Touch and one picture of Release, there are two pictures of both. I bent the rules a bit. Sometimes I run with scissors, too. Here's my first shot...

The touch of the bee will release the pollen. One more try...

Being a soft touch, you release the dollar. Maybe.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Blog Blither - that pile of clippings left over from the morning read.

This is an interesting bit of news for those of you that followed the story of Martha Seroczynski. Martha ran into some flak from the Porter County Board of Commissioners in August while attempting to renew her permit to protest the war in Iraq on the sidewalk around the courthouse. You will remember that the requirement to provide liability insurance was rescinded just as producers from the Fox and Friends morning show became interested.

The Post Tribune reported early last week that Valparaiso police had made 12 alcohol-related arrests, Saturday, September 9th, during the Popcorn Festival, a very lucrative annual event also held on the courthouse lawn.

In another section of the paper, "Quickly Answers", I found this little ditty:

"Q: With the question over insurance for the woman protesting the war on the sidewalks in front of the Porter County Courthouse, how much liability insurance must those participating in the Popcorn Festival on those same sidewalks have?

A: The Valparaiso Popcorn Fest, which is sponsored by Valparaiso Community Festivals and Events, does not require liability insurance from people who operate booths on the courthouse square."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Look at what the Post Tribune has done to my favorite Sunday comic, Opus. Well, actually it's the only comic I read, save for the editorial cartoons. Not long ago, this politically incorrect piece of newsprint appeared in all it's glory, front and center, full page width, under the Sunday Comics masthead. Now relegated to an inside space 60% of the previous size, the print is so small you can hardly see it. Well, I can hardly see it.

So, like Martha, Opus "shows up regularly, with a somewhat unpopular stance for the community" (thanks mjd) and boom, he's banished from the front page of the Sunday Comics.

What's with that?

The Creek Always Rises

2006-09-14T21:50:00.000-05:00

It has been raining in Northwest Indiana just about all summer long. It sure seems that way at least. When it hasn't been raining, its been humid and hot. Really hot. You can tell that I'm not much of a summer lover. Come to think of it, we really didn't have much of a spring either.

The last two days have been the worst. My friend mjd posted yesterday about carrying buckets of water up a flight of stairs, trying to hold down the fort until help arrived. In Highland, a few miles north of here, my daughter's friend lost most of her belongings. She and her son have moved in with mom and dad until she can find another place. Today she was wading through her ground floor apartment in hip boots with rubber gloves and a mask looking for items that might be saved. Once again family, friends and strangers have come forward to lend a hand.

We, on the other hand, are fortunate to have a dry basement. Our house sits up on a hill that overlooks a usually small winding stretch of water. On down the way, it feeds into Turkey Creek. Back in the day it remained just a little drink of water, no matter how much it rained. When they turned the nearby farms into fields of concrete, all the runoff headed our way. With a normal rain we see the creek rise about a foot. When we get heavy rains, this is what happens...

The water has risen to the top of an 8 foot retaining wall. The picture above is the same area you see in the picture below, which was taken sppring of '05. If you look close you will see the Great Blue Heron wading in "ankle deep" water. These were drier days.

Several years ago, when this was my mother's place, one of the town politicos came by. It was near election time so he decided he'd like to see, up close and personal, the soil erosion caused by the larger and stronger currents of water that accompanied the heavy rains. He brought in an engineer, who brought in a bulldozer, that was going to straighten out all the bends in the creek. I'm not quite sure what his end goal was, except that even in my feeble mind I knew that the current would have been faster and harder, gathering steam as it reached the turn. I suspect that it would have aided the runoff from mall parking lots a little up the road. What was a mild erosion problem would have been multiplied exponentially. My mom was beside herself as they fired up the heavy machinery. They had no intention of waiting for her lawyer. I coudn't think of anything else to do but stand in front of the bulldozer. Which I did. To this day, I don't know how I mustered up the nerve to do that, but it worked. They stopped long enough for help to arrive and send them on their way. I'm glad no-one actually knew how close I came to having wet trousers.

Mom's gone now. Most times the water just meanders down and round the curve, heading toward Turkey Creek. But everytime we get a heavy rain and the creek rises, I think of my mom and that bulldozer. God willin'.

Good Will Found!

2006-09-12T06:12:00.000-05:00

Was yesterday a long day, or what?

Are you looking for some good news? Me too.

Last night I came across a very thought provoking question I would like to share. On a post called Remembering the Victims, Peggy laments that in the aftermath of 9/11 “There had never been a larger outpouring of good will. What happened to that good will?”

Well, good will can be found in the tiny southwestern town of DeGonia Springs, Indiana. Maybe you have heard about this. A tornado ripped through this town in November of 2005, claiming 25 lives. Also in its path was the Baker Chapel United Methodist Church. The pastor recollects pews and hymnals in the cornfields. The members will tell you the tornado might have taken the building, but not the church.

Yesterday, on the fifth anniversary of something horrible, something really great was happening. Firefighters from Manhattan, the Bronx, Queens and Brooklyn were joined by Amish and Mennonite volunteers, local residents, rescue personnel, and disaster survivors from San Diego,California; Utica, Illinois; and Slidell, Louisianna, in framing the new building. For more information, visit the New York Says Thank You Foundation.

In the midst of the memorials, tributes, gloom and sadness, this was really a sight for sore eyes. So Peggy, if you’re out there visiting today, I think I found us a bit of good will, something we all need a little more of.

Celebrating the Life of Robert Hussa

2006-09-09T19:43:00.000-05:00

It has been five years since the death of Robert Hussa, on September 11, 2001, at the World Trade Center in New York.

While gathering information for this post, it became evident that Mr. Hussa lived each and every day of 51 years to the fullest.

Please join me in celebrating his life.

Son of Robert and Stephanie

Brother of William and Stephen

Husband of Kathryn

Father of Robert and Thomas

Uncle of William, Michael and Nicole

Above and beyond all else, the love of Robert Hussa for his family permeates every piece of writing that I found. Co-workers spoke often of his focus on family, and family members found comfort in his love and support.

Associates of the Senior Vice President of Carr Futures describe him as a quiet person who devoted many hours toward the success of the business, all the while putting his family first. Straightforward and decent; willing to help those trying to get a leg-up; a respected leader; a person of character; all qualities repeated again and again by his friends.

Being a true sportsman and competitor, his passion for the game was contagious. It enveloped his wife, children, and friends so that everyone played. A profile published in THE NEW YORK TIMES on September 29, 2001 follows:

Robert Hussa's hobbies eventually became his family's hobbies. He took up golf and got his oldest son, Robert Jr., hooked. His wife, Kathryn, was taking lessons, too. And though his youngest son, Thomas, did not play golf, Mr. Hussa managed to interest him in skiing and riding mountain bikes. Those were his hobbies, too. "Every season, there were different activities," said Kathryn Hussa. "We were rarely home."

Mr. Hussa, 51, a senior vice president at Carr Futures, shared more than just his hobbies with his family. He believed in honesty and integrity, and stressed the importance of those values to his children. "He led by example," said Robert Jr. The weekend before the World Trade Center attack, Mr. Hussa joined Thomas and his friends for a barbecue at the family's home in Roslyn, N.Y. The next day, he rounded up Robert Jr. for an outing to a Jets game at the Meadowlands. "He was very content with his work and his family," said his wife. "He had a life that was full."

Although it was not my fortune to have known Robert Hussa, I believe he was a passionate man; living every day with a fervor and enthusiasm that touched all around him, someone whose life we should celebrate. No one can take that time away.

"It wont be long before another day
We gonna have a good time
And no ones gonna take that time away
You can stay as long as you like

So close your eyes
You can close your eyes, its all right
I dont know no love songs
And I cant sing the blues anymore
But I can sing this song
And you can sing this song
When Im gone"

- James Taylor

Listen to You Can Close Your Eyes

Sign the Legacy.com Guestbook for Robert Hussa

Back to the 2996 List of Participants

He's a pretty good dad...

2006-09-08T19:39:00.000-05:00

I had this catchy little title all lined up for this post.

It was going to be:
"Stepdaddy on a stepladder at the stepdaughter's new digs."

What do you think? Well I changed my mind, and here is why...

My husband and I found each other at a time when I pretty much thought I would spend the rest of my life flying solo. We think we were blessed to have crossed paths. So do my children, which is an added blessing.

This picture was taken on one of those weekend days when I am sure he would have rather stayed home to enjoy a beer and watch some football. Instead we packed up the toolbox and drove the little red pick-up over to the newlywed's abode to install shades and curtain rods. Not only that, he remained patient the whole time. Sometimes the being patient part is harder than the actual task at hand. At least for me. Nonetheless, there was great satisfaction when the job was done. The curtains were hung, the daughter was happy...and so was the dad.

My daughter and her husband asked him to give the toast at their wedding reception. He began with a story about Johnny Cash saying that in his family there were really no stepchildren; they were all just his and June's kids. He then drew the comparison with our families and welcomed the newest member in as well.

So even if the other title was cute and catchy, it just would not have done justice to a pretty good dad and those of us who love him.

Martha Wins!

2006-09-06T20:42:00.000-05:00

Well, for those of you who may have been following the saga of war protester Martha Seroczynski on past posts, What's with that? and An update on Martha...maybe , here's how it came out. The headlines in Monday's Post Tribune read "Dispute settled prior to FoxNews show". According to the article, producers from the Fox and Friends morning show contacted Martha and Commissioner John Evans, R-North District, about an appearance on the show. Although the article does not give an indication as to why the interview did not take place, the good news is that the Commissioners withdrew their waiver requirement, along with the need for proof of insurance. All of this with the understanding that the protest stay on the courthouse perimeter, rather than on the lawn which is owned by the city. Interestingly enough, that is all she wanted in the first place.

On the all night radio

2006-09-02T21:51:00.000-05:00

"Where was I when the lights went out
Up in my room listening to twist and shout
Hot summer nights by the window fan
Out on the air waves with a big dance band
On the all night radio"

Things were really different for us back in the day...or were they?

My radio was my best friend. It was my link to everything outside of my neighborhood. News of world events were directly tied to the music for me, and have remained so even to this day. At that time we had only AM radio, WLS and WCFL, both Chicago stations. Disc Jockeys like Larry Lujack, Dick Biondi, Clark Weber and John "Records" Landecker were names we all new and we didn't miss the top forty countdowns.

"Gotta hear that new sound from across the ocean
All strange and soulful full of blue emotion
Makes you wanna miss somebody that you already know
Lying there in the dark all alone with the sound down low
On the all night radio"

New 45's came in down at the corner dimestore, "Jeanies", once a week. She usually had at least the top ten, according to that week's countdown. I could save up and get one record. This was mid 60's...I don't think I even knew what an album was for three or four more years. All I knew was there was some really cool music coming out of my radio, and I could not get enough.

At that time, at least for me, that was my choice... play records, or listen to the radio. Additionally, electrical current being a necessity, even the clock radio on my nightstand had its limitations. My transistor radio went with me to all other locations and I was in good shape, as long as the 9 volt battery held out.

Wherever I went, my trusty transistor radio went along. If I walked to the park or rode my bike, the radio was close to my ear so I didn't miss a stitch. It became a point of irritation for my parents who did not always have my full attention. This was about status quo up until the time when I could drive...and the car radio diminished the need for a transistor. As technology advanced, so did the means of satisfying the music junkie within.

Now, forty some years later, my transistor has been replaced by an iPod. It holds a gazillion more songs and the battery lasts a lot longer. There is a docking station at work and in my car. Almost our entire cd library fits in a little pocket in the front of my purse.

Everyday I see people of all ages, in all walks of life, with a little battery powered box that brings their world a little closer. And I wonder, are things really that different now than they were back in the day?

"Where’s that music coming from?
Sure got a whole lotta soul
On the all night radio
When you close your eyes to the dark soft glow
Tune into the world on the all night radio"

All Night Radio - Tim Krekel

Per eBay:

Vintage Transistor Radio
Soundesign Model 1177
Unusual 2-tone Radio
Circa: 1963
Battery: 9V (not included)
Wrist strap - Nice retro design
Great radio to collect or put on display

New Tunes!

2006-08-31T21:25:00.000-05:00

It has been a long week and it's not over yet. In fact it seems that this week had many more Mondays than it should have. Yesterday's work ended up being last night's work that caused a not too restful sleep and resulted in finally nodding off just minutes before the alarm sounded. The good news is that 320 some contract worksheets hit the buildings today, as promised and tomorrow is Friday! So it seemed really appropriate to get out of the house. We ended up at a burger joint for dinner and then happened on over to Borders to pick up the new Dylan cd. Not what I had planned, but it worked out really well for me. There is nothing that picks me up and moves me along like music. So here is what we came home with...

His choices:
Bob Dylan - Modern Times
Ramblin Jack Elliott - I Stand Alone

My choices:
Keb' Mo' - Suitcase
Dave Alvin - West of the West
Bruce Cockburn - Life Short Call Now
Sam Bush - Laps in Seven

I'm only four songs into Keb' Mo' and it's heaven. It sounds like he has come back to the good stuff that drew me to him in the first place. Ah, it doesn't get any better than this.

An update on Martha...maybe

2006-08-27T08:15:00.000-05:00

A few posts ago I shared the story of Martha Seroczynski's effort to continue her protest of the war in Iraq in downtown Valpo. A permit had been issued May 30th and renewed June 20th allowing her to protest. However, when she returned to renew the permit the third time she was asked for proof of insurance, which led to some political wrangling and strong arming. At least that is what it appeared to be.

This morning's Post Tribune had an update. Martha had hired a legal team and was claiming that her right of free speech was violated. Apparently she had tried to work through her insurance company and encountered some difficulties. The county attorney suggested she sign a waiver absolving them from responsibility in case of who knows what, to which Martha replied no thanks.

My initial reaction was she makes a good point. Why did the commissioners wait until three months after the initial permit was issued to require a certificate of insurance? It must have been because they were trying to throw up a road block - a legal loophole that she would not be able to navigate and therefore quit her protest. Something that had been on the books, but not enforced until now when they needed it. Those dogs.

Here's the thing. In the front porch Sunday morning print edition the last portion of the article was deleted. When I went on-line to link to the article from this post I was able to read the rest of the piece. It goes on to say that the Valparaiso Elks Club was required to show proof of insurance for its Flag Day ceremony on June 14 at the square. Those dogs?

It was a lot easier to rally behind Martha before I new the whole story, which is a shame because I support her cause. It would appear that she needs to get some insurance and move on. Soon. Before this debacle detracts from the real message she is trying to convey.

The last six sentences of the article change the entire story. And they left it out? Because they ran out of space? So now I say come on Post Tribune. What's with that?

How was your first day of school?

2006-08-24T19:07:00.000-05:00

Tuesday was in-service with PTO in the evening; Wednesday was teacher work day with Open House in the evening; and today was the first day of school for my elementary principal husband. I don't know which woke us up at 5:15, the thunder or the alarm. The morning headlines read, "Storm Thrashes Area". He was looking for his raincoat on the way out the door, determined to get out early enough to pick up fluorescent sticky dots so kindergarten teachers could identify bus riders by color.

By the time I got to work at 7:00 it was pouring.

Naturally the rain continued until all the buses were unloaded, the children made their way to class, and the first day parents had left the parking lot. At 1:00 I got an e-mail that said "This is the first chance I have had to stop and try for lunch. I am out of shape." I shot back a quick response, "Those kids will get you into shape quickly!" That was the last I heard until around 5:30 this evening when I looked up from my desk to see his tired face rounding the corner of my office doorway.

I said, "So, how was your first day of school?"

He said, "Well, we had the usual new students that had not pre-registered. The new kindergarten teacher was elated that she had no criers; students or parents. On the other hand, one second grade student cried all through lunch. Another of the special needs students was devastated that the cafeteria no longer served ice cream; something that had previously been a highlight of his day." Yadda yadda..."and some parent parked in the road then motioned for her child to cross in front of traffic instead of getting in line like everyone else. Then she got mad when the traffic would not stop to let her pull out."

I said, "So, sounds like a pretty rough day."

He said, "Not at all. It was great! The teachers were great. The kids were great. It was a good day! My feet hurt and I am tired. What are we having for dinner?"

Then he said, "So how was your day today?"

And I said mine was all right too. You might say we got in touch with the little child in each of us...and it was good.

A New Box of Crayons

2006-08-21T20:25:00.000-05:00

Can't you just smell them? Open the box, take a quick look at all the shiny new unused colors, and then take a big sniff. It's great! You may think I am silly, but it’s one of those comfort things for me, even at 50. Completely irresistible. A new box of crayons. Something everyone needs for the first day of school, no matter how old they are. The only thing better is a new box of crayons AND a blank piece of white paper. The possibilities are limitless.

When my days as a SAHM were numbered, I was fortunate to find work at the neighborhood elementary school. It was close to home and I loved being around the kids. After six years as the school secretary I moved to the Curriculum and Instruction Department in the Administrative Building. The money was a little better, but it was a step away from the school and boy did I miss the kids. It was difficult at times to see that what I did really made a difference. My school invited me back each year to read at Christmas and as a guest at Honor’s Breakfast. Being the one who kept track of student data I would periodically see the names of the students as they made their way through the grades. Two years ago the last group graduated and I felt as though I took a step even farther away.

This summer I moved to a distant land called the Business Office. I always felt that people in the administrative offices should spend a little time each year in the schools. It’s important to look into the eyes of those who we are responsible for – a gentle reminder of why we are here. The farther away I get, the more important it seems to be.

The first day of school is Thursday and I can’t help feeling a little blue. Today I felt the need more than ever to stick my face in a box of crayons. So…

…here they are! Sixteen wonderful colors in a familiar green and gold box. Count them, five boxes – one for each of my co-workers in the Business Office, and one for me, of course. Although we can’t be where the kids are on the first day of school, each of us will have that exciting feeling of opening that new box of crayons and remembering…wonder if anyone else will take a sniff?

Something I would like to have seen...

2006-08-17T07:00:00.000-05:00

There was this newspaper article a couple of weeks back about the Pentagon buying Gummi Army Guys from the Albanese Candy Factory in Hobart (Merrillville outlet is a great place to buy candy in bulk) and placing them on the desks of the D.C. politicos prior to a vote, hoping to encourage them to move in the “right” direction.

Today, while visiting the North West Indiana Coalition Against the Iraq War website, I found this little home project to do with children.

What if the Albanese Candy Factory put this little message on the bag of Gummi Army Guys?

What's With That?

2006-08-16T10:40:00.000-05:00

So in today’s Post Tribune there is an article about Martha Seroczynski’s request for an extension from the Porter County Board of Commissioners to protest the war in Iraq. Apparently the initial request was granted in June for 30 days, said protest to occur on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays.

The article states:
“Commissioner John Evans, R-North District, told Seroczynski that county policy requires her to show proof her homeowner’s insurance will cover her for any accident or injury that might result from the protest, thus clearing the county of any liability.” Board President Bob Harper, D-Center District, countered. “It’s a freedom of speech issue.”

Looks like there was some wrangling at this point – Seroczynski said she was asking simply to protest on the sidewalks in and around the courthouse, not on the grounds. One of the commissioners asked who owned the sidewalks. A couple others said they didn’t even think she needed permission to protest. Another said that “The right of free speech is not unconditional; the government has the right to place reasonable time, manner and place.”

Seroczynksi pressed forward saying, “Are you denying me my right?”

At that point it was decided that permission could be granted with the stipulation that proof of insurance be provided before protesting, which received a unanimous response.

In the end it appears that the group, “likely four people total, will conduct their protests on Wednesdays only because time constraints have made it difficult for everybody to also gather on Mondays and Fridays”. It sounds like there’s a real need here for the commissioners to be concerned. What’s with that?

The last time we drove through the intersection of Ridge Road and Route 41 there were about a half dozen protestors at the memorial with signs that encouraged motorists to honk if they agreed that the troops should be brought home. You could hear the horns honking. Some shouted ugliness instead. It was an open exchange. It was raising awareness. It was showing concern. It was agreeing to disagree. It’s important to have that right, even if it is only Martha and her three compatriots. What would become of us if there was no voice of opposition? Well done, Martha.

A Forward to pay attention to...IBC

2006-08-10T21:47:00.000-05:00

Most e-mails that are forwarded to me end up in the trash. I don't even open them - just hit the big X and move on. This one that was sent to me last week caught my attention and I have not been able to shake it.

The subject line said FW: IBC

This was the message:

Hey All,
I have never heard of this. It is important. Please pass this on to raise awareness about this silent killer.
Kelly

Kelly is a friend of mine and she cared enough about me to send a warning about Inflammatory Breast Cancer. I had never heard of it, nor did three of my friends at work. The clip below warns that cases have been misdiagnosed since they may first appear to be a simple insect bite. It is a fast growing cancer and early diagnosis is extremely important. Often, a tumor cannot be felt, and may not be seen on a mammogram. The diagnosis is based on the results of the biopsy and the doctor's clinical judgment.

If you have not heard about Inflammatory Breast Cancer, please take a minute to watch this clip:

Click here to view the clip that was attached.

If you would like more information, here are some sites to check out...

National Cancer Institute

The Inflammatory Breast Cancer Research Foundation

Inflammatory Breast Cancer Support

As they say in the Forwards...THIS IS TOO IMPORTANT TO DELETE...please read this!

Happy in Hawaii

2006-08-07T18:39:00.000-05:00

Kind of looks like a picture on a postcard, doesn't it? Those two happy souls were joined together on the island of Oahu, July 20th. They are home now and making a new life together, complete with grocery lists and laundry...and loving every minute of it. It doesn't get much better than this for my daughter and her husband! Isn’t love grand?

But wait! There's more! Guess what other happy couple are now empty nesters, sans kids and cats. That's right, no more cats. None. Finito. Zip, zero, zilch. Just me, my honey and the dog.

And life is good.

Here's my dad...

2006-06-19T21:25:00.000-05:00

Blogger would not cooperate with me last night when I tried to load this picture of my dad. Miracle of miracles...tonight it works. This was taken in Minnesota. Other than the fish, the neat thing about this picture is the woolen shirt. Back in the day, my mom and I would go to the Village Shopping Center in Gary for a year's supply of plaid wool shirts, just in time for Christmas. They looked pretty snappy with khaki pants that had an ironed-in crease that would cut butter. Anyway, here is the guy I was named after - I'm pretty proud of that.

A day for father...

2006-06-18T22:32:00.000-05:00

I been thinking lately about the people I meet
The carwash on the corner and the hole in the street
The way my ankles hurt with shoes on my feet
And I'm wondering if I'm gonna see tomorrow.

Father forgive us for what we must do
You forgive us we'll forgive you
We'll forgive each other till we both turn blue
Then we'll whistle and go fishing in heaven.

"Fish and Whistle" by John Prine

I’m blessed to have had a darn good father in my life. I have been without my dad for more years then I had with him, but the memories we made were good and plenty for a lifetime. Although my parents would never admit it, I am relatively certain I was supposed to be a son.

None the less, I was the daughter that could bait a hook and clean a fish. My dad and I fished in a boat, from the shore, and on the lake when it was frozen. I could catch night crawlers with the best of them...with a flashlight when the ground was wet...sneak up, grab them and pull gently, drop them in a cottage cheese container with a little dirt. It helped to write "worms" on the outside so my mom didn't get scared half to death.

We went hunting and dressed the pheasants in the laundry trays in the basement. I had the feathers packed into my little black patent leather purse, just to prove it, much to my mother’s dismay. My dad would open the gizzard with a pen knife so we could figure out what the bird had for lunch - pretty doggone cool if you ask me.

When my dad painted, I painted. When he had a hammer and nail, I did too. He would haul black dirt on the weekends to bring in a little extra cash. Me and my crayons and coloring books made many a trip along side my dad in the big red dump truck, from dawn until dusk. He would sing to me and I loved it…”I dream of Jeanie with the light brown hair…”

The last Christmas we had together I was in Lafayette and the snow was so deep and coming down steady. It looked like I was staying at school for the holiday until my mom called to tell me to be ready - dad was coming. And sure enough, he did. I still don’t know how we made it home. I-65 looked the same as the fields on either side.

The next spring he was gone. Pastor called him a fisher of men and I agreed. I'm not certain about the ever after but for my dad I figure it has something to do with a fishing pole and some nightcrawlers.

Thinking of you dad...

Evangelize This

2006-06-03T19:57:00.000-05:00

I have come to the realization that I am not very good at organized religion. It may be because of some underlying remnant of youthful rebellion. It is more likely that since I have been allowed the freedom to ask questions and learn about things that never made much sense - the dogma just doesn't work as well. Following along blindly is no longer in the cards for me.

It was kind of like getting my first pair of eyeglasses; glasses that were long overdue. The shock of seeing things clearly was breathtaking, but even better was gaining the ability to see things that I had altogether missed. At first the glasses were a little uncomfortable but after awhile they became second nature. It is pretty interesting how it works that way. New eyeglasses brought clarity and definition, as did the new lenses through which I see a more inclusive picture of living in “the here and now of Jesus” and the “forever and always grace of God”. There is no way I will ever go back to the old way of seeing things.

At any rate, the conflict for me is in being a member of a larger overarching body of governance that either goes in the opposite direction of where I think we should be, drags it heals rather than moving forward, or at the least gives that appearance. I understand that this is superior to an “autonomous church system” that does not have any checks and balances for finance and administration. And agreeably the ability to accomplish our mission is far greater when united with that goal in mind. On the local level our goal of service and learning is solid and moving forward. Diversity and inclusiveness are issues we as a church are well aware of and support, and I think for me, that is where the rub comes in.

Last week I had the occasion to attend a gathering at the close of the annual conference for Northern Indiana. It was an opportunity to celebrate successes, showcase the youth, and create a vision for the future. It was not surprising that the majority of those in attendance were my age or older. Understandably, the focus was on growth since our numbers, like those of other mainline denominations, are thinning. What a wonderful opportunity to address the issues that divide and exclude. Instead there appeared to be an acceptance of the same crippling fundamentalism that I have come to mistrust and avoid. At one point we were told by a youth group member that the numbers of her generation that were evangelical Christians would dwindle from 15 to 5% over the next few years. Was I supposed to feel bad about that? Instead it just ruffled my feathers. What followed reminded me of the televangelists I see while channel surfing, moral issues to boot. Surely this is not the way we are going. Or is it?

Admittedly I am spoiled. I have a pastor and church family that encourage growth and learning. We are striving to exemplify grace in both our church and community. This is one time when I am far better to focus on the little picture, because sadly enough the big picture I saw did not look so good.

Welcome Home

2006-05-25T21:16:00.000-05:00

What a wonderful thing it is to see two people take that first step into their new home, especially when it is your child and her "soon to be husband". The respective parents were invited to share that moment this week and we all enjoyed it to the max. We inspected every nook and cranny from the front door to the garage, opened cabinets and closets, checked out the fireplace and furnace, and just about every inch from the floor to the ceiling. The best part of the whole darn thing was the smile on their faces and the love in their hearts. This was one of those times when you say to yourself "It just doesn't get any better than this!"

God bless your home with love and laughter. Welcome!

Seeing the Big Picture

2006-05-21T19:15:00.000-05:00

Realizing that my frustration level is at an all time high, I am reminded how important it is to look for the BIG PICTURE.

My husband, who has this wonderful way of seeing this in me before I do, called me out of the house this evening so that I could see the Iris that has finally popped open today.

And you know what? It worked. I am reminded that there is something bigger than church, work, showers, weddings and any of the other number of things that fill our lives so full we cannot see the BIG PICTURE.

For me to see the BIG PICTURE, sometimes I need to look at the little things in life, wonder in their glory, and remember that ...

God is good all the time.

So here, through the lense of my Mother's Day camera, are the blooming reminders I found outside this evening.

One more for road, the week ahead... God is good all the time!

I can't explain a blessed thing
Not a falling star, or a feathered wing
Or how a man in chains has the strength to sing I'll fly away
Just one thing is clear to me
there's always more than what appears to be
And when the light's just right
I swear I see poetry

....The clouds make rain, the ocean makes sand
The earth breathes fire, and lava makes land
Now that took a mighty hand
And a wild imagination

-Walt Wilkins and Davis Raines

Oh, to be dispensable

2006-05-19T22:20:00.000-05:00

Back in the day when I would get all fluffed up about something I thought I had done particularly well, my mom would pull out this poem. She called it the "Ode to the Indispensable Man".

There Is No Indispensable Man
by Saxon N. White Kessinger, Copyright 1959

Sometime when you're feeling important;
Sometime when your ego's in bloom
Sometime when you take it for granted
You're the best qualified in the room,

Sometime when you feel that your going
Would leave an unfillable hole,
Just follow these simple instructions
And see how they humble your soul;

Take a bucket and fill it with water,
Put your hand in it up to the wrist,
Pull it out and the hole that's remaining
Is a measure of how you will be missed.

You can splash all you wish when you enter,
You may stir up the water galore,
But stop and you'll find that in no time
It looks quite the same as before.

The moral of this quaint example
Is do just the best that you can,
Be proud of yourself but remember,
There's no indispensable man.

Google tells me it has a slightly different title and the author is no longer "unknown", but it still has the same effect now as it did when my mom used it to bring me back down to earth years ago. Only now I would really like to be dispensable. Managing one job as they look for my replacement, while trying to learn the other before my predecessor leaves, puts me in mind of the old Twister game we used to play. Only now there is some diabolical person holding the spinner. One foot is in the new job while the other foot and both hands are still in the old job. My brain is somewhere in between wondering what the spinner will have me do next. I long to be dispensed with. My bucket overfloweth. I feel as though I might be going down for the count. Maybe we could just dump the water out of the bucket all together and move on.

But alas, would I like some cheese with that whine? Of course. Would I like some cake and be able to eat it, too? Yes. Would I give up this wonderful opportunity? No way. Will it be ok? I sure hope so. Do I really want to be dispensable? Well, nah.

Uh, oh...here it comes! Left foot on blue...

There's a stranger in my house...

2006-05-15T21:50:00.000-05:00

Well it's moving day and the pet hotel is open once more. My son is relocating yet again and the resident dog and cat have taken to higher ground, grumbling all the way.

The intruders arrived via cardboard box, not much happier to be here then their greeters were to have them. After all, this house just aint big enough for the two of them, let alone two more.

The mother and son pair suffered the pangs of surgical domestication prior to their last visit which was indeed a prerequisite at my insistence. Although they did not seem to fare too badly, what do I know about such things?

One hiss from Ghost and Cali headed upstairs under the safety of Mister's legs. The otherwise overly friendly spaniel bid fond farewell, never to be seen for the rest of the evening.

Piddies retreated to her queendom to mount defense of her domain. Her territory is under more dire threat of being overthrown. I mean a throne is at stake here.

So it goes and the saga begins. Remove all breakables from the shelves. Take the plants down from the window sills. Double order the kibbles and litter. And move over Rover because the kitties have moved back in.

Things Change

2006-05-14T14:29:00.000-05:00

Things change, they change a lot
Things change, they grow cold they grow hot
And if lookin’ back - that’s all you got…it don’t matter anyway
--Sam Baker

Well tomorrow, today will have become “back in the day” and if there is one thing I know for sure, it is that nothing is ever for sure. So at this ripe old age I am venturing into the vast unknown of a new job. My friend says there is no sense in looking at life through a rearview mirror. My mom always told me not to wish my life away, particularly when I couldn’t wait for tomorrow to come, or this day to be over. What works best for me is usually somewhere in between. I would never trade even one of the days I have had; for better or worse, they are the sum of my existence. But there is change in the air and this time I am going with it. Savor the past and keep moving forward. As long as the light at the end of the tunnel isn’t an oncoming freight train – it will be ok.