Saturday morning.

We had an enjoyable evening with friends at Julie's house last evening.  With everyone bringing part of the meal to complement her ham and potato casserole, it makes for a meal with something for everyone.  Only Georgia and Mike were exempt from bringing anything, since they left this morning and had everything packed up in the car and ready to do.

So it was a send off for those heading out the door first, those right behind them and the last ones to turn out the lights. The last ones  heading north always lament about how lonely it is in the "hood" with everyone gone. Then all of our attention faces north, never looking back until, once more it is time to return in the fall. 
Today, I'm nursing the fire ant bites that kept me awake last night. I tried everything I could think of for them; ice, baking soda, vinegar.  Nothing helped. That didn't keep me from walking this morning with Nancy, though.  She had some Cortaide that brought the itch down a notch, but didn't help the swelling in my ankle any.

Michael had another raced this morning.  One of those that gets him up before 5:00am and leaves the house before 6:00 for. His time improved, which should make him feel rewarded for the effort. There is always a little extra satisfaction in knowing I don't have to get up and go with him. Oh, guilt, too, but satisfaction overrides the guilt.

Have to say, I'll miss these silly sandhill cranes that are making such a racket this morning.  They would make good cartoon characters. You wonder what all their constant noise means.  Probably like most of us, not much.

Do they still love me?

When you get eaten up from a bunch of ants from walking in their hills, you know it is time to quit. Yard work is a lot more hazardous here than it is in Montana.  Here, there are stinging insects and weeds you have to be aware of at all times.  In Montana the closest thing I've had to worry about is cat poop in my flower bed and some wasps building their nests under our eaves.  Haven't been stung there yet, but my sister has. These ants have a pretty mean bite, too.  So I'm soaking them down with vinegar for now.  Isn't vinegar the cure all for everything? I hope so, anyway.

My friends informed me that this season I haven't been much fun.  I'm not surprised with that comment, really. My mornings are occupied with hard physical exercise or work and my afternoons tend to be attached to the computer, writing this blog and managing the recycling project. No, I don't surf the net, what ever that means.  They would rather I spend my time playing dominoes, lunch out and shopping with them. At least I'm glad they enjoy my company enough to be missing it. The comment was that, "Heaven forbid you be doing something meaningful with your days". Tongue in cheek, of course, I hope.

I guess after working most of my life, I have it pretty well ingrained into me that the day is for productivity  and the night is for down time. That's why I don't watch any TV(except an occasional Dr. Oz which comes on at four) during the day.

A luxury I do look forward to, I have to admit, is a good read on a rainy day.  One you just can't put down.  Right now I'm starved for just such a book.  And a rainy day to go with it, of course.  But, alas, there is no rain insight today no good book to read and work to be done( I know because Michael just started up the vacumm cleaner).

Big ideas in their place

Some days I get inspiration enough to write several blog entries.  Other days nothing comes, no matter how long I wait.  Today is one of the latter. So my intent was to post my latest Lewistown Argus article that I wrote yesterday.  However, the site wouldn't allow me to insert it.  Guess I don't know as much as I thought I did about blogging.

The down side of blogging is coming up with inspiration everyday.  The up side is I have become more comfortable with an expanded usage of the computer. Of course, the more I know the more I know I don't know.

I thought my kids could appreciate this cartoon, as they know me so well.  I can assure them, though, that I have no intention of getting that carried away.  So, breathe a sigh of relief. I'm just setting an example, with the idea that you never retire from a responsibility to make the world a little better than it was when you arrived.  Actually, in many ways the environment wasn't half bad when I arrived.  Yet, I can say that in other ways it is much better today, as evidenced with the air quality in America today.

I can remember in the early 60's, while living in Chicago, the air was so dirty that my son's diapers got black from the soot in the air when they were hanging out on the line. Yes, we also only had cloth diapers back then. I would hang them inside just to try and keep them clean. So at least we do have cleaner air now and continue to work on ways to make it even better.  We are getting better about other ways to care for our world, too. We know how to improve and we have set the wheels into motion.

The world in many ways has developed a concience and a sense of responsibility that many can be
 proud of.  For others who are not there yet, there is still hope. I'm not giving up on you.

50's plus

Today was the second day of hard labor with one, at least, to go in our household before the house is ready to leave for six months. Yesterday it was scrubbing the eaves and gutters and today it was more of the same and trimming of the trees and bushes, too. My friends all went out for lunch today, followed by a house tour event in Crystal River. I, on the other hand, being the foreman of the hard labor projects around here, had to be on hand to oversee the jobs to be done. The job of foreman however, did not exclude me from the grunt work that had to be done. I had to do the hauling of limbs and debris, along with scrubbing everything at my level on the ground.Sometimes I wish we lived on the other side of the street, in the condos, where everything is taken care of for the owners. The price of independent living.

I've noticed that we are now called the 50's plus part of society, rather than seniors or the elderly. Heck, it can't be old because I have a son that is 50.  I think I like that inclusion. I'm in the the same group as my son. (Don't gasp with horror, son).

 That doesn't denote that we have been put out to pasture like a retired horse or ready to put down like an aged pet. Instead, it sounds like we are part of those still working and contributing to society. As it should. Just because many of us have stopped drawing a salary doesn't mean that our life is any less important to society.

Just look at the contributions made by so many 50's plusers that you hear about every day. In fact, not having to work for a salary, frees us up to do or be anything we choose. It's great, once you get into the groove of it. For myself, I have been able to focus on and have energy for other things that are important to me. I know, there are plenty of you who just can't wait to join us. Eat your heart out.

Many worlds, one planet

Have you ever noticed the many worlds there are on this planet?  What is central to my world may be a world away from how your world revolves. What is important to me may not in the slightest interest or be of concern to another. We may not really understand their point of view, or world, but then, they probably don't relate to ours either.
It would seem that Louise has a very limited, confined world to most of us. When I was driving her to visit her husband in the hospital thirty miles away, she asked if Florida is like Montana. "No", I said and began to describe the differences to her. I asked if she had ever been out west, to which she asked,"What do you consider west?"
So I named some states that I consider western; Washington, Colorado, Utah, etc.. "No", she said.  So I tried Missouri, Indiana, Ohio, to which she said she hadn't been any further west than Pennsylvania.  I thought she was joking, and laughingly said that it wasn't really considered western.  But, she was serious.
You'd think she has a pretty limited world; will only drive in town, never further west than Pennsylvania and a very structured life, with difficulty with any changes to her routines.  Yet, within her world she has stretched it to greater dimensions than mine seems to be some times.  She goes to a variety of concerts when ever she chooses, buys exactly the organic foods she wants, without worrying about cost. And she doesn't ask for things to be any different from what they are. She is quite content with her world and quite okay for my world to be so removed from hers.

This isn't where I was going to go with this today, actually.  I was going to talk about how what I consider important isn't necessarily what another might find something to get all excited about. And visa versa. I've been told before that I live in my own little world to which I have to agree.  But, then don't we all?

Look around you

Look around you, right where you sit, right now.  Or if you have the energy, walk around your house and count the number of things that are made from plastic of some kind or at least has part of it made with plastic.  The job too big for you?  Too much to count?  I can just imagine. It is truly mind boggling. Yet, it is difficult today to imagine a world without plastic of some form or other. It has help save some of our forests being used in place of it and amde our life better in many ways.  So how did all of this plastic become such a large part of our lives?  I'm glad you asked.

The first plastic was made in 1862 by a man by the name of Alexander Parkes.  He invented a compound call parkesine from cellulose.  It was transparent, could be shaped any way you wanted and it would hold that shape once it was cooled. Incredible! By 1930 plastic became a part of our everyday language to describe a wide variety of new materials that are today made from carbon and other elements.

So now you have had your lesson for the day that you will be able to spout off at the the drop of a plastic toothpick. Plastic has become both a blessing and a curse to us today.  A blessing for us and a curse for our planet.  Since man was smart enough to figure out how to make it, they should be responsible for finding the best ways to keep it from being a blight and a problem for the future. If we care so much about our children's  financial future and debt we should care no less about the state of the earth they will inherit, too. Amen. 

 Got a party to finish putting together for our friends this afternoon. I didn't count a single plastic item that I'm using.  Not even the toothpicks.



On the Mountain Top

After we stopped to drop off the recyclables  today before church, we arrived about 15 minutes before the service started.  I like to get there a bit early to give myself time to get centered and clear my mind. I have to admit that I do value peace and quiet when I want to do some thinking, since I am easily distracted.  Maybe a little ADD, I don't know.

Anyway, after we settled into our pew(always right side, fourth from the rear) it was very noticeable that I didn't feel like I was in a place of worship. Instead it felt more like a party atmosphere or something. None of that quietly whispering with your neighbor or even stage whispers,but full bore chatting up with people several pews here and there. It seemed they forgot where they were or something. The worst offenders, of course, were those you would least expect to be, or should be.

When we were traveling around Europe and enjoying the amazing churches where ever we went, there were always signs that insisted on the visitor respecting where they were and keeping silent.  If you didn't, you were given a very stern warning.  I remember when we were in Assisi, Italy visiting the church named for him, a man was talking in a rather inappropriate level of conversation.  He began arguing with the man in charge of voice level when told to" shh", something you don't want to ever do.  He was forcefully thrown out by the quiet keeper, who continued to follow him for a ways down the walk, continuing to berate the rude man for several minutes.  Good for him.

Anyway, as I sat there trying to filter out all the noise, I got to thinking that I would be a lot closer to my maker, who I came to connect with, if I were on the top of a mountain right now than sitting there trying to shut out the din. I've spend many an hour in the past doing just that and have to say my connection to God has been a lot more powerful than some of my church experiences. Kinda makes me tempted to head for the mountains soon.  Oh that's right, I am.

How does it smell?

Finished my run, trimmed bushes, cleaned up, ate breakfast, ironing done, muffins out of the oven and now I have the privilege of sitting down to my blog. Good way of keeping my priorities in line.

Out on my run this morning, I paid particular attention to the smells surrounding me. The orange blossoms had a strong bouquet waifing across the road, as I ran up the hill towards the trail. On the trail I was tempted by the wonderful aroma of the bar-b-cue coming from the EMA church. It must have been smoking all night. They make the best bar-b-cue. Coming out the the restroom, I was hit in the face with the horrible smell of the gas weed blower the park attendant was using.

I'm sure you have noticed that sometimes it depends on the origin of a smell.  For instance, I love the smell of Parmesan cheese when I see it on a bowl of spaghetti.  But, the same smell coming from someones shoes, changes that whole perception. If I don't know the source, does it change my reaction?  It's all about the image in your mind at the time.

That's the way it is with impressions of people. I've thought about if it had been me, a 71 year old, walking in my neighborhood, in the evening, from the store, in a drizzle, with my hood up on my sweatshirt, with my Skittles in my hand, what may have happened to me. I know that if a stranger were to come up behind me and demand,"What are you doing here?" I know what I have been taught to do.  It is scream,"Get away from me!" and fight for all I'm worth.

Of course, when the guy sees my face,I'm sure he would say,"Oh sorry Grammy!" and walk sheepishly away.  He may even offer to walk me home to keep me save from the "bad guys" wearing hoodies.

The scenario changes when it is a young man in his hoodie who has been approached. When his face is seen, and he reacts in fear, it is predetermined that he is up to no good and deserves to die. So I guess it is all about the perceived smell, then isn't it?

Blogging about blogging

Blogging can be a lot of fun.  If you haven't tried it and you have a lot that rattles around in your head all the time, you just might want to try it. It is also quite cathartic. Don't you have something you want to" get out", but you can't find anyone who really cares to listen to what you have to say?  This way, whether anyone reads it or not is not the point.  That you have a voice, is. 

That's the way I am.  I can't have a thought without thinking if this is something I might want to write about in my blog.  Of course, I set myself a pretty limited criteria. I try to stay away from politics and deep religious discussions.  Those I save for face to face when I can see the whites of the eyes I am speaking to.  That way I can assess their judgement and opinion. Those are personal topics that I don't want to tread on, personally.  I have my ideas, they have theirs. We'll leave it at that.  Besides those aren't my objectives.

I also won't talk about things that are very personal to me or someone who could be easily identified. 

If I do step on toes, I hope the person who owns those toes knows I mean no malice and intend to do no harm.  I am just using their story to tell my story. I hope they feel privileged that I find them interesting enough to want to share their story.

Of course, the biggest thing for my readers to realize is that much of what I say is with tongue in cheek.  I usually don't take myself all that seriously and hope people realize that is the vein in which I usually write.  I do get a bit serious about topics that need to be addressed in a more subdued tone, though. But I think there is enough serious stuff in this world to deal with without creating more. 

One thing I can assure you is, writing every day can be a real challenge.  Some days what I have to say is better than others.  So if you didn't like today's offering, stick around it just might get better.  Or worse.

Team Work

We try to get out for our run early enough, but it doesn't make any difference.  It is just as humid and you come home just as drenched. No way to avoid hair washing much less take less than two showers a day.  Yes, even I have come to that point, especially if we happen to go for an evening short walk.  The neighbors are all getting out in the evening for a stroll now.  Good way to catch up on what's going on in the hood.

I've thought a lot about how we were able to get our recycling project to this point. The city had this idea back in 2006.  However, after their feasibility study, paid for with taxpayer, city funds, it was literally put on the shelf because it was deemed undo able. They were of the mindset of yes or no not how.  That is where the difference lay.

We didn't think should we or shouldn't we.  We already knew that aspect.  The only decisions to make were how and that is where the work came in. Working together as a team, we explored every possibility and avenue until we found a way.  It had to be palatable to everyone concerned: be it community, workers, city planners or committee members.  That we were able to find a way that satisfies every one's taste, to a degree, I think is phenomenal. 

That being said, it,doesn't mean we all got our first choice of method, but it does mean that everyone found that it was a program that they could support and live with over time. The logo is a prime example of how we were able to come to a consensus and be happy with our choice. And I have to say, it is a product that not only we can be proud of, but the community as a whole can say with pride it represents them.

Now if we could only get our government to work this way. Maybe we should be consultants to the government and show them how to get the job done.

We keep on trucking

Is this one of us one day in the future?  I hope it's the future and not yet, anyway.

I had to cut my morning workout a bit short today, because I promised I'd take Louise to visit her husband, who is in the hospital, 30 miles away. He had an aorta aneurysm that needed a repair.  Since he had had so many previous heart related surgeries in the past, they fortunately were able to go up through the aorta and repair it, without opening him up. All went well and he is as ornery as ever, almost ready to get out and continue his job of keeping us all toeing the line around here.

Bob was the first person we met when we arrived on Pritchard Island.  We had been over on the dock, checking out the lake, when he came over to us to inform us that "I hope you know that this dock is theirs(meaning the people on that side of the road) and we were not permitted on it".  Once he got to know us,though, he lightened up and became a trusted friend who kept an eye on our house when we were gone. We thought those days were past,though, since he was failing so quickly recently. But  I think he's going to be as good as new now.

Louise bought me lunch in the cafeteria after her visit.  We spent the time swapping accounts of our eating and food preparation habits.  If anyone thinks I obsess about what I eat, you haven't met anyone yet.  She buys all of her food at the health food store, all organic and mostly green. She juices her greens every morning and eats oatmeal at night often.  And her husband won't touch a thing she buys or makes.  Every meal is eaten out.  I pale to her standards.

But, at least my husband eats at home and appreciates most of what I prepare.  I think.  Or maybe he just doesn't want to go out and eat with Bob.

Twenty miler



This morning we took a twenty mile bike ride, stopping in Hernando for breakfast along the way.  Michael needed his biscuits and gravy fix, don't you know.  We needed to go eight extra miles just to get the grease to finish coursing through our veins.  Okay, so I obsess a bit.

I always forget to take my camera, which I wish I had had to take a picture of the cute Jack Russell Terrier peeking out of the front pouch a man was wearing while riding on the trail.  I would have stopped him right in the middle of the trail to get that picture.  It was one happy pup.

When we got home, I found that I just had to go to Beals (pronounced bells) with the $5 off $25 coupons I had plus the over fifty and fabulous extra 15% discount available today.  Michael had shared with me that he had bought on line a pair of red racing shorts to go with his red tops that he had to have to complete his outfits. He also has red racing shoes, too, of course. He does dress the part, don't you know.

Try as I might, however, after checking every item in the store, I couldn't find a thing that caught my eye that I just had to have. After all, it's not a bargain if you don't really want it. Surprised Michael, though, when I got home empty handed.

First snowbird flies north tomorrow.  We had a little send off with a glass of iced tea and my healthy low fat, deep chocolate, walnut brownies this afternoon. It is always like part of us is missing, as each us us leaves. Janet is the organizer and the one who keeps us on track. She's a friend who knows your needs almost before you do. We know we can always count on her.  So we'll just have to pick up the slack and fill the void ourselves.

 Michael and I are the next ones heading north of the group.  I wonder what they'll all say about us when we're gone?

Happy St. George's Day!

After yesterday's entry, it was suggested that I do a search of celebrations with Brits celebrating being Brits.  What I discovered is that, in fact, they do have such a celebration, St.George's Day.  However, I also discovered that it is much more popular in England to celebrate the Irish St. Patrick's Day than their own patron saint.

Back to ethnic groups we recognize in America, though.  I have never heard of a St. George's Parade on April 23rd in the good old US of A.  So here be it, the year of 2012, that on April 23 we will now begin celebrating St. George the dragon slayer, the patron saint of England.

First, a little background about St. George.  He was a Roman soldier who opposed the persecution of the Christians.  He even died defending them.  In the fourteenth century England adopted him as their patron saint.  Somewhere along the way the legend grew that he had slayed a dragon. That would have been sooome feat!  A flag representing him has a white background with a red cross.  The Brits would wear a red rose in their lapel, in his honor, on April 23rd each year.

So, here's what we will do.  On April 23rd each year we will sport our red rose (not many lapels these days) and eat fish and chips with our pint of ale.  We'll have a parade with the flag prominently displayed, followed by a pub crawl to all of our favorite pubs, or what ever kinds of watering holes we have. here.  And we'll dye all the rivers red.  We'll have jousting contests at medieval festivals with children decked out in dragon and knight costumes.

Don't you think we need another holiday to get excited about?  I think it would really help boost our morale.  And do we ever need a morale booster!  Let the English lead the way!

Where's my day?



So, yesterday was St. Patrick's Day.  I know it is a sacrilege, but we didn't go to a parade, much less eat corn beef and cabbage. I love it, but considered the fact that it is high in sodium so passed on fixing it.  I know, once in a while won't really hurt, but Michael had already been to MickyDees and was over his sodium limit for the day.

Anyway, I was to trying to think of a day that is reserved for the English, a national British Day, since that is our heritage. Let's see, certainly not Fourth of July, by any means. Thanksgiving began from people originating from England, but that doesn't celebrate the English.  It celebrates their thanks for being free from the English in fact, in addition to their survival of the first winter.  So that doesn't work either.

African Americans have a month of recognition for their achievements and even the Metis Indians in Lewistown have an entire weekend with dances, music and traditional foods. But, I can't think of one day that remembers my heritage. Couldn't we have a fun day dedicated to us? 

Of course, granted the English do have a reputation for being a bit stuffy, so it might be difficult to come up with a way to celebrate that would equal the mad cap fun of the Irish.  There must be someway that would respect their respectability, while having a little fun along the way anyway.

Okay, maybe taking on the creation of a national holiday for the British is  a little out of my league.  So I'll just let it go, for now.  But, I'll be thinking about it.  How about King Henry the Eighth Day?  Lots of possibilities with that.

Hair today



Michael had a race this morning in Ocala, getting up before five and leaving the house by six.  Ugh! I opted out. Exercise is what I need, not pain and that was a very painful course, with all the hills. I would have gotten a second place trophy for sure.  There was only one other woman in my age group and she would have beat me. so there went first.

Actually, something a man would not understand, I really didn't want to have to wash my hair today and that would have been a must then.  I guess it is too bad when your hair dictates your morning, but anyone who experiences the time commitment to hair grooming knows what I am saying.  So, that is how I determine if I will run, bike, kayak or walk each day,( I walked today ) if I want to have to wash my hair.  Then there is the issue of how good I need to look that day.  Depends on what public I'm preparing to meet that day.  Sounds like the queen preparing for her audience,  and for me it does equate to something like that in my life.  That is why when the day I put the olive oil in my hair after washing it and had to go to the luncheon that way, was a particular disaster for me.  It's all about the hair. Elvis knew.

Now something to make this worth your time to read.  Reasons to recycle:  Did you know?

• It creates new businesses for hauling, processing and brokering the recover materials. 1.1million people with a gross of $236 billion in annual revenue. Great for the problem of jobs.
• Achieves significant energy savings compared to virgin material production.
• Reduces the need for more waste disposal sites which take up and abuse valuable land.

I loved seeing in the news the young entrepreneurs who began a business using recycled coffee grounds.  They package them in kits for people to grow their own mushrooms at home. They are expanding and doing great.Why didn't I think of that?  I'm always making Michael save the coffee grounds so I can compost them under my plants.  I think so small sometimes. I think if he thought there was a fortune to be made in them he would have been saving them for me a long time ago.

Luncheon today

Today I went to a lovely luncheon at my friend, Georgia's. She's the Italian with the Irish husband.  So we were into the St. Patrick's Day theme, sporting our traditional green attire and enjoying her shamrocks strewn tasetfully on the table.  Do I sound sort of like a society page writer? She served a delightful French chicken with a light spinach, walnut feta salad with a vinegarette dressing.  The dessert was a no bake keylime pie that was wonderful. I loved the tart, citrus flavor. So I got all the recipes now so that when I have a luncheon up norht, I can whip out my recipes and I'm ready to go.  What I like is that they, not only are impressive and good, but they are quick and easy. I can do that.

Only problem is chicken can make you sleepy, especially when mixed with a sultry day.  Sitting out on the lanai with the slight breeze and warm weather is just what it takes to put one in mood for a nap.  And we're having ground turkey sloppy joes for dinner tonight(what else do you do with frozen ground turkey you neglected to take out? Notice I didn't say forgot to take out) which will just keep me on this sleepy even keel I'm on.

Since I'm retired and can do what ever I want that is legal and moral, I could go take a little cat nap.  But, I've tried that before, and as soon as I shut my eyes, I'm wide awake.  Ah, that's the answer!  maybe I'll go try it.  However, I want my daughter to know that I do not take naps. (  She thinks that's all we old er people do is take our afternoon nap everyday. 

It'll Bite You

What you say or think may come back and bite you.  I know.  It's karma. The other day I was with a bunch of ladies enjoying lunch when one of them was asking me if that was so and so or what ever her name was. So, of course I knew and of course I had to show her that I knew. I have been a bit smug about how much better I have become at remembering names and faces.  Must be all the blueberries I eat every morning.  I never used to be good at names, but I think I must try harder now because I don't want to get the reputation as one of those senior ladies who is always having more than her share of senior moments.

So yesterday, I planned my morning on being ready by one for the Avon ladies party. I wanted to be sure to tend especially to my grooming, as I knew everyone would be looking at each other's results of the creams and makeup they had been using.  Of course, one doesn't want to look over groomed either so you don't look like you tried too hard.

So I plucked my eyebrows, touched up my toe nail polish and filed my nails. Right at 1:00 I headed out the door,as I wasn't going to seem too eager to get the early arrival prize she had promised. I walked down the front walk to the sidewalk and stopped, turned around and headed back into the house, to Michael's surprise I might add.  I had suddenly remembered that the Avon party was Thursday not Wednesday.

Good thing I caught myself before I got to her house anyway.  Ouch that karma hurts.

Big Ideas



This morning I took a bike ride down to Floral City for a change up. The weather was perfect, which brought all the other bikers out, too. We will really miss the trail when we go back up north.

The Rails to Trails was some one's brain child when the rail roads stopped running.  Who would have believe at one time that the railroad beds would eventually be reborn as trails for people to use for walking, biking, running, in line skating or what ever recreational use enters a person's mind to do?

That is what it takes to get anywhere with anything, someone with a big idea.  Of course, I'm sure that that person ran into a lot of naysayers when the idea was first presented. That usually is the first response people have to big ideas.  Oh, that could never work, because of this factor or that reasoning.

But if the person persists enough, eventually eyes are opened to the possibilities and naysayers become yeasayers instead. 

Granted, not all big ideas pan out as planned.  They may even end up in the ditch, due to either lack of commitment or vision.  Big ideas don't become reality by themselves, by any means.  In fact the big idea has to have an equally big commitment to the cause.

I always have big ideas that probably  put some people on guard when they see me coming wondering, "What is she dreaming up now?" Maybe some of them are a bit over the top and I do need someone to whittle them down to a more doable size at times.  Yet, with the energy and vision behind the idea anything should be able to become a reality, I would hope.  Especially if it matches the needs and wants of others in the picture, important aspect to remember, granted.

So I go forth with my big idea for the Big Burger Bash Festival.  I know it can succeed if we do our homework and legwork. Just as the hard work towards the Recycle Lewistown Project is developing.  And then, if they don't work out as planned, then I dust myself off, reevaluate the plan and try another big idea.

Snow birds

This is the time of year that, after the usual subject of  the weather when you talk to people, the next topic is," When do you leave for the north?"  We all start directing our attention to the weather up north  with new interest, since it now effects us, too. We start making lists for shutting down the house and what to take back with us. The taking back list always has to be revised many times over before the finally date of departure.  I always have a grander idea of what I'm taking back than is the reality of what the car can hold.  Then it's back to what I can really do with out and was just wishful thinking.

You try to have duplicates for most everything possible, but the reality is you just can't have two of everything.  I have friends who have two complete wardrobes.  One for up north and one for Florida, so no shlepping a car load of clothes back and forth.  I haven't achieved that goal, I'm afraid. Of course everything would last that much longer, but would you really want it to?

Michael is our designated list maker and has it pretty much down pat.  I always throw in my sage words of advise, however, to make sure it is all done in the most efficient way.  For instance, I heard that poring baking soda into all the drains and in the dishwasher will keep the bugs out.  Since bugs really can bug you ( I know, bad) down south, you want to do everything you can to keep them from greeting you on your return in the fall.  Also, bleach in the toilet, not the tank, keeps out the mold that can be a real issue around here. Not a welcome to come home to, either.

With so many of us Snowbirds around here, I wonder what they do for economy when we all leave?  I know my hair dresser would be pretty hard up if it weren't for us. Of course there are a few little old ladies around getting perms still who help keep them going until we get back. The golf courses must really miss the faithful gofers.  And they certainly are faithful.

But now the economy up north will start to pick up big time.  I hope they are getting ready, because here we come, ready or not.



The eyes of a grandmother

My social life is stretched to the max this week with two ladies' luncheons and one Avon event.  I am actually declining some invites at this point, just to have some balance the other way in my life.  One problem with so many social gatherings is they go hand in hand with food.  At the restaurant called the Plantation today I ordered the spinach, scallops salad, trying to make a wise choice that didn't sabotage my efforts to lose my jelly belly before we return north.

I did fine and the salad was good.  Only problem was I was hungry again before I had even gotten my check. Eating out is always difficult for me.  I usually go into the restaurant with the purest of intentions.  However, it doesn't take long for me to talk myself out of those or regret being too good in my selections.

Now going to Georgia's luncheon on Friday will be difficult, since she is my Italian cook friend and I know that everything will be delicious, but not necessarily on my list of accepted jelly belly losing foods. And the Avon lady is planning lots of tempting treats to entice us to buy. Oh my!

Observation:  I have noticed that grandmothers love to brag about their very gifted grandchildren who are always the smartest and most athletic of any of the rest of the grandchildren out there.  I know of one grandmother, who had only one grandchild for many years, bragged constantly about this amazing  child.  However, when her daughter had a baby this year it seemed strange that we didn't hear anything much about the baby.  Now months later we know why.  This beautiful baby girl was born with downs syndrome.  For some reason she just couldn't find even one thing to brag about this child.  Sad.

I also have a friend who has a grand son who was born with some messed up chromosomes and is blind and retarded. She is so proud of that little boy and loves to brag about all his accomplishments as if he was the most gifted child on the planet for what he has learned.  How wonderful.

Impressions

Yesterday, we drove to Jacksonville to visit Michael's granddaughters and his great grandson, who is turning five.  The girls are beautiful 23 year old twins who had not completed eight years of formal education when growing up. They are so slender, they could slip through a TP tube, if it weren't for the boobs they acquired, which they are quite proud of, I might say. At one time they were pretty well devoted to finding carreers as models full time and didn't see the need for further education.

However, they have come a long way with that sketchy education and beginning, I have to say. They are both working and going to school, fulfilling new goals for themselves.  We are proud of them.  Proud that they are showing what anyone with fortitude can do for his or her self. And they are doing it without help, which makes us even prouder.  Actually, making it on their own will help build the strong character and resilence they would not develop if they had it all given to them and they hadn't had to struggle some.  I told them that that was how I did it, how Michael did it and they can do it too if they really wanted to make it. I think they will have a sense of pride they never would have had if the way had been paved for them.

Today, I was a substitute visitor for shut-ins from the church.  I went to visit an elderly, beautiful lady, both inwardly as well as outwardly, whom I had met and visited with before at church.  She is very hard of hearing, is beginning to be forgetful and had just had serious cancer surgery the week before. She is a person who fills you with the warmth that she has for everyone, yet makes you feel that to her your presence means more to her than anything in her life at that moment. I enjoyed visiting with her.

Now that is what I wish people could say about me when I get old er, but I'm afraid I'm just too onery for that to happen.

This and that

Worm from another angle. I also went fishing with my daughter.  Now that was a different experience, as she is an experienced fisher woman.  She had not only fished with night crawlers, but leeches, and had no qualms about putting either on a hook.  So, when we went fishing together at a really great lake in Idaho, she baited my hook almost all the time.  Only occasionally, when she was way out into the lake casting  for the big one, did I have to resort to the old pliers trick.  But, we did catch some nice ones.  Our only problem was stopping when we caught our limit so we wouldn't get a fine.  So we spent the rest of the afternoon contemplating how we could keep fishing and hide our catch.  I don't recall doing that though, being the forth right people we are.

It's getting to be about the weather down here that drives us back up north, hot and humid.  By the time I get finished with my run, work in the yard and then go clean up, I'm pretty drenched. Then, by the time I get showered, hair dried, makeup on I'm drenched all over again.  I hate that humidity.

Talk about drenching, we just had a series of good down pours that provided much needed moisture we have been really missing this winter.  Now we're waiting for it to dry up enough so that we can get out and gather up all the dead bougainvilla branches strewned over the yard that I cut down this morning.  If you know bougainvilla, you know how lethal they are, with their long sharp thorns. I certainly don't want the liability if someone happens inadvertently into them.

Dr. Oz wrote that how you took care of your health during your life before you are 50, determines 75% of how your health will be for the rest of your life.  That's what I'm always saying.

Pruning

This morning I went out for a short three mile run so that I could get back to do the pruning of everything damaged by the frost last winter, before it got too hot.  (We have a solar flare coming today, you know). I ran into (not literally) the park lady with the wiener dog. We got to talking.  She told me the gators are back out, as she could recognize their growl and saw a couple of big ones around the lake. She was telling me about the damage to her citrus trees and how she hoped she could prune them back okay.  She said that they could have been hit so severely that they will only produce small, sour fruit next year.

As soon as I got home I began my own pruning. (Michael was still out running with his friend Steve, so I began without him. My poor orange tree was really hit hard from the last freeze(yes, it is my tree I bought it with money from my parents). So that meant it needed a severe pruning. After we pruned it, I put fresh fertilizer around it and watered it good.  Hopefully, it will come back now, fuller and more fruitful and sweet than ever.  I'll be anxious to see it again in the fall, when we come back.

That's the way it is in our life.  We need to prune out of our life anything that is not working for us. Then we need to replace that with renewed energy for the good, productive parts of our life.  And we don't look back at the dead part we lopped off, either.  It is gone and something wonderfully new will take its place.  That's when life is good.

The Monster Under the Bed

When I taught first grade, I would always teach the children how to distinguish fact from fiction, when reading a selection.  At that age, they have a hard time believing you when you tell them there is no monster under their bed.  I can remember lying awake at night worrying about it many a night as a youngster myself.

I also taught them to look at a commercial or advertisement and discern what was opinion and what was true facts in what was claimed. When they heard that the cereal was really yummy and would make them happy and healthy and it had 7 grams of protein to make them strong, what they didn't realize is that it also had 23 grams of sugar. That information might change the opinion of that cereal, at least for the mom.

I think it is great that restaurants are beginning to give information on their menus so that customers can make informed decisions before ordering.  However, it does make it difficult to stay with that decision when where is a luscious picture of something fattening beside it.

I wish our politicians would learn to tell the difference between fact and fiction and opinion and truth.  Many people are like the kid with the cereal box, they taste the yummy cereal, but don't pay any attention to the facts printed on the side of the box.  So, it would be helpful if politicians would make the effort to convey the unadulterated facts without mudding them up with all the personal opinions, false information and distortions caused by taking things out of context.  People are always looking for the monster under the bed.

Point of clarification from yesterday about fishing with my son. Some know that I hate worms and can't pick one up and put it onto a hook.  No, my son did not bait my hook.  I did, using pliers to grab the worm, twist it around and stick the hook through it a couple of times.  It took a bit but I always got it done.

Hope

My friend, Betts, told me a story about a fishing trip she took once with her late husband,Jim.  He was fishing along the shore with no luck and had run out of worms.  Just as he was giving up, he noticed a frog by the bank with a worm in its mouth. So he grabbed the frog and tried to no avail to remove the worm from the frog's mouth. That didn't deter him, though.  He got out the bottle of whiskey he had along and poured it over the frog's mouth.  Well, the frog's eyes rolled back and it dropped the worm.  So Jim was able to go back to his fishing for a while.  It wasn't long, however, when he noticed the frog was back.  This time he had two worms in his mouth.

Hope is the fuel that keeps us going each day.  If we had a bad day, we hope when we wake up in the morning that it wil be a better day.  The alcoholic who has been sober for a day, hopes he/she can wake up and stay sober for one more day.  You hope that there is another cup of coffee in the pot for you when you need a picker upper.

The man walking the four dogs from the dog shelter, who I saw on the trail this morning, is hoping that someone will come and give one of the dogs a new home today.  There was one less dog today, so hopefully one found a home yesterday.

I used to take my son out fishing on the Missouri River with me.  We would sit along the bank all day long with nothing to show for our efforts but the pleasure of watching the deer on the opposite bank.  Each time we cast, we had high hopes that this time would be the one that would catch the big trout. We never went home with the trout, but we had some good mother son times together.

Hope is the thread that keeps us going.

Sagacious me

My friend, Harriet, told me I wasn't old enough to be a sage.  Since she is just two weeks younger than I, I began to wonder if she might be right.  So I looked up the word sage in the dictionary.  It said,"A venerable(usually implying age) man(we'll insert woman) of recognized experience, prudence, and foresight.

I figure anyone who has lived three quarters of her life should be able to be considered kind of sagy and definitely more venerable, anyway.  I can be pretty ponderous at times, I think.  Most people on earth are younger than I, therefore, I should be more sagacious than they are. 

All one needs to do is either go through life and experience it all yourself and see how it all comes out or learn from the trials and tribulations of others and let them show you what they learned the hard way.  Either way the outcome is the lesson that makes you wiser.  Therefore, you just can't help wanting to share all that wisdom with everyone else.

Even a twenty year old  can be a sage to a teenager.  He is a much better conveyor of what  consequences to expect for most any situation the youth may encounter on any given day than any hundred year old could who was that age almost a century ago. The problem is most teens seem to have a need to find out on their own.  Too bad.

So anyway, I guess what I need to do now is go talk to the hundred and six year old I know.  Maybe she can help me avoid some of the pitfalls of my old age.

Here we go again

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Michael in his latest race shirt, neon yellow. Makes your eyes hurt looking at him. Actually, he should wear neon all the time. He has a way of blending into a crowd when I am looking for him. He seems to relish the fact that I can look right at him and miss seeing him completely.

Let's see, today is Sunday so I am allowed to sermonize. Here is my message. If you put all your trust in yourself or things, you will fail. You will fail to stay sober, and you will fail to have inner peace.

Those who achieve riches, but only believe in themselves, will not achieve happiness with those riches. Having things without good relationships leaves you empty, as evidenced with Howard Hughes and all his millions. Those who rely on their good looks to succeed will eventually discover their looks will fade and they are left empty. Living with your faith in the bottle leaves you with nothing more than an empty bottle and an empty soul.

To feel the peace that passes understanding you need to have faith in a higher being; God. Faith can be difficult to grasp; believing that there is a power so great. Believing in something so powerful yet taking faith to truly grasp. Actually, we spend our life trying to better understand who God is. It is truly an enigma, yet the evidence is there for all to see, if you truly want to see.

Just having the faith of a mustard seed, that grows into a huge tree, is all it takes. Yet that kind of faith is all it takes to gain the strength to live a truly rich, full, and lasting life. Amen

Too little to late

They have changed somethings with the formate of this blog. When I down loaded the picture, all I see is a jumble of letters and numbers, so I hope you all see the picture it is supposed to be. Anyway, when the picture dried, I saw that I needed to add more yellow to the water. When I looked at the picture of the sunset I took, the water was very yellow and the sky quite orange, actually. So back to the easel.

Last night, I went to a very ritzy area to go to a private concert at a friend's friend's home. We stopped at the guard booth to get checked in. Julie's friend had to have given out names to him prior to our arrival. It took about ten minutes for him to check Julie out, after inputing her license into the system. Really, how threatening did four elderly women all dressed up look to the guy, anyway? We had difficulty finding the house in the dark and ended up wandering around knocking on doors to find the right house. How countrybumpkin of us, really. But, we were eventually found and enjoyed a delightful Celtic concert of a Celtic harp and flute, guitar by the visiting performers. The huge home had a huge lanai with a huge pool. The owner had two harps of her own and two pianos in the house. I was truly out of my element.

Yet, I didn't covet any of what they had. However, I was jealous of one thing; their musical talents. I watched the woman's fingers play across the harp and listened to the man play, not only three different flutes, but a fiddle and a guitar. Why couldn't I have had talent like that? As much as I enjoy music, why didn't I have the opportunity to master a harp or a guitar?

I guess it is a matter of too little effort too late in the game. Maybe in my next life. Or I could take up harp in heaven!

Laugh

In the same vein as yesterday, laughter is the best medicine. It was just a coincidence that today there was an article in the local paper about laughter, since it was on my mind to write about today, too. I have to agree with the author of the article who said,"Sometimes we laugh with others and sometimes we laugh by ourselves. Sometimes we laugh when there is nothing else to do because we have lost control of the situation".

I probably bug some people because I laugh so easily, mostly at myself though. I guess, sometimes that seems the better alternative to the situation. Maybe I just think, in retrospect, that some of the things I have done or said were so outrageous or ditsy that the only thing left to do is laugh about it.

What I love is that the memories of those occasions become an oppportuntiy to relive a good chuckle rather than for me to cringe and hang my head in shame. It's like a cow chewing its cud, reliving the flavor of the moment again and again.

Actually, I think I tend to gravitate to people who, either make me laugh or laugh with me when I laugh at myself. I believe that if you can't laugh at yourself then you are taking yourself too seriously.

Laughter is a tonic. You can't feel grouchy if you are laughing. And actually it is the best thing for you, to have a good laugh after a good meal to aid digestion, I have read.

So if you find yourself holding back because it doesn't seem "adult" to be letting go and having a good laugh, then lighten up and notice the difference in your life. Children laugh easily. They just might have the secret to the fountain of youth.