Boo

 

I bought my favorite candies for the little Trick or Treaters (+1) and I am doing OK.

I do not believe in ghosts or poltergeists or things that go bump in the night. Nope, not me.  I am sensible and believe there is a reason for everything. Practical Arleen, that is who I am.

There are those moments though.

  -  On a Sunday morning 11 years ago,  I received an IM from a dear friend who had passed away the day before.  Her name popped up on my computer and the message was just 10 numbers. I could not believe my eyes and stared in shock at the screen  I called for my husband to see it and we tried to figure out what we were looking at and what did it mean.  My friend lived alone and there was no one who could get on her account.  There had to be an explanation, but we never came up with one. And the numbers, well, we have never figured a meaning to those either. 

  -  Then there was that incident 12 years ago, shortly after my parents passed away (within 7 months of each other).   My sister  lived in their house and one night, as she lay sleeping, she heard my mother's voice call her name over and over.  It was so loud in her head that it woke her up.  She then heard a noise in the kitchen and quickly ran to it.  A fire had just started in the old heater.  She was able to get it out quickly but had it been a few moments later, it would have been too late. 

  -  My mother would often say that if there was such a thing as reincarnation, she would want to come back as a large bird and fly over all who annoyed her in life and poop on their heads.  After her funeral, the family gathered at her home.  As we all sat out in her garden speaking of memories and times gone by, Hubby came walking from the backyard and yelled that some big dirty bird let it all go on his head.  Funny, I always thought Mom liked him.

I will leave you with this one last tale.

  - A story was told on radio news last week about a British lady who had passed away.  This woman was known to be a phonoholic and so when she was being laid to rest, loved ones put her cellphone in her casket. Her granddaughter, seeking comfort, would, on occasion, send her texts.  One day, she was shocked when she received a reply.  It said, "I am watching over you".  Before you strike up the theme of The Twilight Zone in your head, I will tell you it was not the deceased who came a'calling.  Her batteries were definitely out. What it was is that relatives had closed her account  after her demise and the phone number was put back into circulation. The new owner had received these messages from the distraught survivor and decided to answer, thinking someone was pranking him.  The family was upset, but I do hope they all had a good laugh afterwards.  It certainly gave a lot of people a chuckle, including me.

Voices from beyond?  Nah, they were just computer glitches and coincidences. I do not believe in ghosts or poltergeists or things that go bump in the night.  Nope, not me.  I am sensible and believe there is a reason for everything.  Practical Arleen, that is who I am.

Please Look At The Dot

I should be out raking up leaves, but I am hoping they will eventually blow onto my neighbor's lawn and that will be OK (for me).

Last week, I accompanied hubby to get his once every four years driver's license renewal.  The lines are usually long and one could possibly spend hours sitting in the hard chairs getting hemorrhoids while waiting for their number to come up.  I walked in and was pleasantly surprised at the size of the crowd.  Rather than what I expected, I saw only about 50 or so souls who were totally engrossed in their smart phones. Nobody spoke to each other, because communication is now done by text, not talk.   Everything went along quickly and we were out of there in record time. 

A few years ago, when I first started this blog, I wrote about my experience at the Driving License Center.  It did not involve taking any test, it was just to have my picture taken.   Here is a rerun of that post.


Is this photo OK ma'am?
Every four years you have to renew your driver's license.   This is never a pleasant experience because as much as you hated your last picture, this one will be even worse.  Aging does not usually improve a person's appearance unless, of course, you are under 30. That expression  "you are not getting older, you are getting better" does not include the chin area.  Anyhow, around your birthday you get that letter to report for your latest mug shot which you will be identified by for the next  few years . You try to get there early before the bags under your eyes set in.  However, everybody else has the same plan, so you end up standing up against a wall for an hour or two because seating is limited, and then that look of fatigue takes over your face.  Finally you get called and you are told to sit in this very low chair, look straight ahead at the circle, and snap, the deed is done.  Five minutes later you receive your new, not improved, license to drive.

This was my year to do the deed. I prepared by getting a hair cut, but that didn't turn out well.  I kept up with my moisturizing and used some facial tanning lotion to hide my maturity spots.  I brushed my teeth with super-whitening toothpaste and practiced smiling in front of the mirror.  None of this helped.  My new license picture showed what I looked like, rather than how I saw myself,  but I figure that in four years, I will be more objective and think it was quite flattering.  There are some blessings to failing eyesight.

On another note, while I stood waiting at the DMV to be called for my photo,  I made some observations.  I noticed that most of the younger people were busy on their smart phones texting,  They were probably typing in, "I am getting my driver's license, so it's time to part-tee"  to their 300 friends on Facebook.  Other people waiting included  a man with one leg, a man in a wheelchair, a man on oxygen, quite a few older folks with walkers or canes and people complaining.  My conclusion was that there are probably many cars out there on the bad roads of Pennsylvania being driven by texting teenagers, senior citizens with handicaps and those ticked off and suffering from road rage with their hand outstretched and their finger pointed upward, all following me.

Be careful out there, better yet, take a train.

Closing Another Chapter

The cool winds are blowing, a new season is upon us, and I am doing OK.

It was a magnificent summer with wonderful sunny days, pleasant temperatures and almost enough rain to water my plants and keep them healthy.  I was so grateful for all the beautiful days that we had and all the blessings that it brought. 

There was flower power in May.

I started out choosing the colors that would surround me.  I always tend to select the purples, salmons and whites, but this year, more reds found their way into my gardens.

I was so relieved to see that even though we lost more than a few trees last winter because of the horrendous weather, my woods still look lush and beautiful.  Everything has its time and as with life, new will replace the old.

In June, the family all got together and we went crazy.




In July, we visited friends and enjoyed sitting on their porch watching the sun come down on the lake.

At home, the local Shakespeare company came to town and presented Twelfth Night, performed with a Johnny Cash-like character and some music from from The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly thrown in the mix.  It was interesting and surprisingly fun.  Ardent fans of the Bard of Avon might have been offended, but I loved it.  Willie reinvented! 

One of the proudest moments of my life came in August when my 14 year old grandson was chosen to throw out the first ball at a Philadelphia Phillies game.   He showed no nerves, but his grandmother was shaking all over.  He was good luck for the team, as the last place Phillies won that night. 

August was harvest time and boy, did my tomato plants produce! Most days, I could pick at least 25 large, beautiful fruit. They were and are delish, but there comes a point where your acid intake makes your innards rebel. Friends, family and the local food bank benefited from my stomach problems.

During the summer, we had our semi-feral cat (Miss Circle) guarding our gardens (and the finch feeder).  She does not think the birds will see her.

 

 

And then three new baby kittens came out of the woods led by their tramp of a mother. (We found homes for all, except the mom who we could not catch).

 

 



We never got away this year to exotic resorts, nor did we travel to exciting cities.  We stayed mostly at home enjoying the company of people we love and savoring these moments in our lives.  It was comfortable.  

This summer was a gift and I just love living in the green hills and valleys of Pennsylvania.  I look forward to the next season and will be fine until winter arrives.  If it is anything like last year, I hope to be out of here in a quick minute.  There is no place like home, when things are good.

Oh Momma

I refuse to accept that summer is (almost) over, and I am doing OK.

I am always saddened to hear stories where parents and children do not get along.  Sure, we all have disagreements and frustrations, but we usually make it through because there is need and love.  I think that most people do their best at parenthood and even though we all make mistakes and are not perfect, our hearts are usually in the right place.

My mom came from the "greatest generation".  She was born during the First World War, lived through the terrible depression, lost her mother as a teenager,  and contracted TB while pregnant with my older sister.  She never talked about those times; they were things we learned mostly from other relatives.  Her health was always iffy, but somehow she lived into her eighties.  I remember always worrying about losing her.  However, maybe because of her difficulties or in spite of them, she had the most wonderful sense of humor.  She had a quick wit, and the times I remember best were when all the family gathered together and the house was full of laughter.  Despite all the troubles in their lives,  the stories they would tell were happy.  A picture in my mind is of them all sitting around the kitchen table slapping their knees as they laughed hysterically over some small matter.

She has been gone 13 years now, but it often seems like she is always with me.  I see her eyes in my daughter and granddaughter, and I remember her smile when I look at things that I know that she would love.  She was a kind woman, a strict parent (most were in those days), and knew no bounds when it came to love.  She was a good teacher for us all.

When my parents died (seven months apart), we cleaned out the house and disposed of much of their possessions.  However, she was a collector of notes, letters, cards and inspirational writings that she would find.  Many of these we could not part with.  Recently, my sister came across something that she had kept.  I think I remember it sticking in the corner of her mirror in her bedroom or maybe on her dresser.

Here it is and it is something that is appropriate for my time in life.
 

A Prayer For Those Growing Old
(author unknown)

Lord, Thou knowest I am growing older

Keep me from becoming talkative and possessed
with the idea that I must express myself on
every subject.

Release me from the craving to straighten out
everyone's affairs.

Keep me from the recital of endless detail.  Give
me wings to get to the point.

Seal my lips when I am inclined to tell of my
aches and pains.  They are increasing with the
years and my love to speak of them grows
sweeter as time goes by.

Teach me the glorious lesson that occasionally
I may be wrong.  Make me thoughtful but not
nosey; helpful, but not bossy.  With my vast
store of wisdom and experience it does seem a
pity not to use it all.  But Thou knowest, Lord,
that I want a few friends at the end.

My mom is still teaching me and making me smile.

The Key to Happiness

Our summer weather has been outstanding and I am doing OK.

There are millions of studies costing billions of dollars being done by people, reportedly experts, who research things that most times a person of ordinary intelligence can figure out just by living life.   Last week another one came out saying, "The formula for happiness is to have low expectations." They even took the time to show us a mathematical equation proving this.  I wanted to recreate it for this  post,  but it was difficult and they told me not to set my sights too high or I would be miserable.

I think that I am like so many people who are happier when we have great expectations, no matter how it may turn out.  Happiness and disappointments come and go, but the joy of possibilities is the greatest thrill of all. I wouldn't want to have missed out on any of them.

So said Christopher Columbus, Edmund Hillary, Leif Erickson, Marco Polo, Neil Armstrong and all those other not-famous people who followed their stars no matter how rough the course might have been.  To paraphrase a famous quote  - the journey teaches you more than the destination.

I will continue to find laughter in my disappointments because it is how I cope  and I will never give up my anticipation of joy, no matter what the PHD's say.
 




 

Home Run

I try to always be hopeful, and that helps keep me feeling OK.

I usually wake up early, really early. Last night, I completely skipped the sleep part just to get a head start on my day.  There is something I have to do and since it isn't pleasant, worry kept me awake.  To pass the time, I took to my handy-dandy iPad to look for something that would lift my spirits.  I came upon this story about a 105 year old lady who with just the help of a walker to steady herself, is in seemingly good health both physically and mentally.  Agnes was  chosen to throw out the first pitch at a Major League Baseball game and so not to disappoint, she practiced and practiced to get it right.

And here is how she did:

Every day is an opportunity, no matter your circumstances. 

Being Perfect

Beautiful summer days and I am doing OK.

I was choosing a new picture for my header and I loved this one of a double Hibiscus that I have growing in my garden.  The flowers only last for a day or so but they are a magnificent sight when they just get to full bloom.  I thought it was a beautiful picture to end the month of June.  However, when I enlarged it, I saw that there were spots on it and I hesitated because it was not perfect.  I had a few others to choose from, but I kept going back to that flower.  Sure it might have been a little past it's crowning moment, it had a bruise or two, but it was looking up to the sunshine and was taking in all it could. 

Then there was this cookie I made:

My taste buds didn't notice the broken candy.  It was yummy!



Being imperfect is just perfect!

Being Targeted

I had another birthday and I am doing OK.

I woke up this morning (always a good thing) and reached for my iPad to look for some good news to start my day. As I perused the headlines, I noticed the ads on the right hand side.  The first one was for a funeral home, the next was for wrinkle cream and the last one was about the five signs of a heart attack.  Here I was hoping to start my day off on a positive note.  However, I might look into that wrinkle cream as it does promise me that I will look 10 years younger with a face as smooth as a baby's tush.

 

Words To Live By

It's a beautiful day in my neighborhood and I am doing OK.



Last week, a great lady, Maya Angelou, left us.  After reading many of the tributes paid to her, and hearing a recap of her life, I decided to look further on the Internet for more details.  I came across this:

“I've learned that no matter what happens, or how bad it seems today, life does go on, and it will be better tomorrow. I've learned that you can tell a lot about a person by the way he/she handles these three things: a rainy day, lost luggage, and tangled Christmas tree lights. I've learned that regardless of your relationship with your parents, you'll miss them when they're gone from your life. I've learned that making a "living" is not the same thing as making a "life." I've learned that life sometimes gives you a second chance. I've learned that you shouldn't go through life with a catcher's mitt on both hands; you need to be able to throw something back. I've learned that whenever I decide something with an open heart, I usually make the right decision. I've learned that even when I have pains, I don't have to be one. I've learned that every day you should reach out and touch someone. People love a warm hug, or just a friendly pat on the back. I've learned that I still have a lot to learn. I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.”
― Maya Angelou

I have nothing to add.  Maya said it all.

 

It Has Been Awhile

I never really went away, I was just resting and am doing OK.

Things happen in life that makes you pause, so I did. 

Spring came, the rains fell, the flowers bloomed, the pollen spread, we all sneezed, and the world went on.  I will not talk of the bad, but will look ahead for hope and joy even if it sometimes eludes me for awhile.  I know it is there, it will just take more effort.

Most of my gardens are completed, although, I will fiddle with them and continue to move and replace plants until the first autumn leaf falls.  This year, for the first time, I had to ask and pay for help.  I realized that I could not shovel the eight yards of mulch by myself anymore.  It was hard to make that decision as I pride myself on being self-sufficient and able to "do it all".  However, being found slumped over a large mound of shredded wood is such an undignified way to go.  I still helped spread the mulch over the gardens and I had pride (and my breath) doing that.  I also learned the lesson of acceptance.

My children and grandchildren took me to Longwood Gardens  for Mother's Day.  What a wonderful day that was.  We walked and walked and saw such glorious sights. 

Earlier in the day
 



Later on

 

In a few weeks my California family will be visiting us so they can see what rain looks like.  With the terrible drought in the west, coming east to our lush, green Pennsylvania seems like the best choice for them and for us also.  I am hoping, though, that the sun will shine and there will be cool breezes and starry nights for us all to appreciate.  However, no matter what the weather brings, I know I will get my joy back when my daughter and her family arrive.

 

Thank you to those who inquired about me when I was absent from Blogland.  Your concern touched my heart.

 

 

 

 

 

 



 

Say It Ain't So

I "pansified" my gardens, and I am doing OK (today).

After the winter from hell (hell must have also frozen over), I could not wait to color my little world with flowers.  When the temperatures finally went up last week, and buds were seen on trees, I drove to a local nursery and over-purchased many pansy plants, probably too many. I desperately wanted spring to finally arrive and I needed to surround myself with new life.  What a glorious weekend we had with temperatures reaching up to the low 80's.  Friends were seen, dinners were eaten outside, and blossoms on the trees were more appreciated than ever before.  That horrid season was over, done with, gone, ended, finito. Winter was now just a bad memory.  Planning for the better days ahead was the conversation heard most.  Then, Sunday, a new weather report was issued and it included the words, "freezing temperatures and snow".  How could that be?  It is April, for goodness sakes. This morning I saw on the news that this was already happening to areas in the south and the poor, weather-plagued Midwest. Snow, hail, winds, slippery, dangerous roads were all brought up again, and our hearts sank with that prediction.  However, what I saw next gave me encouragement and hope.  This new arctic blast will only last two days and then it is smooth sailing ahead.  The sun will shine again, buds on the trees will continue to open, the colorful birds will nest and my pansies will survive this latest blast.  We all will survive!

You just have to have hope, high hopes.

Are Your Socks Too Tight?

The date says spring, the snow to come says differently, but I am doing OK




I have read quite a few books about the Kennedys and one of the things that impressed me was how the family would sit down to a meal and discuss what was going on in the world and how each person could make it better.   Everybody was encouraged to be part of the conversation, including the youngest child. 


When the stars align in the right way, we also like to sit down to a family meal.  It is not always easy as life is busy and the grandchildren's activities are varied and many.  However, recently most of us were able to get together for my daughter's birthday.  Our conversations were not as cerebral as the Kennedy's, but we touched on subjects that seemed important to us; like how does one wear their socks.   For the past few years, my granddaughters have worn different patterned socks on each foot. We all agreed that was a bold statement about being individuals and we praised them for having their own style. Listening to all this, I never thought that "my" sock habit would come under scrutiny, but then I saw my daughters glance down to my shoeless feet.  A look of horror and disgust came over their faces. What great fashion faux pas had I committed now.?  My socks matched; they were clean; there were no holes.  They were warm and comfy and I thought acceptable in the presence of company.  However, it was not the socks that brought criticism, it is how I wear my socks" that seems to be their concern.  I wear them loose at the toes and to their reproaching eyes, it is not acceptable.  Who knew?  I turn my toes up, I like to stretch out; I like wiggle room; I want my toes to live free.  Apparently, this is "gnarly". I listened to their objections, pulled them tight, and they all breathed a sigh of relief.   So now, after this deep conversation, I realize that when my children tell me they are coming over, I should pull my socks tight, or they might be making one of  those 
"What's going on with mom?" calls.

I never thought that my socks would give me away.

The Art of Being Busy

Snow is finally melting and I am doing OK.

My life used to be extremely busy, but I didn't notice because that was just the way it was.  The treadmill of my life was constantly on.  There was always something I had to do, someone that I had to assist, and places I had to be.  Then I retired to do with time as I wanted and I did not do well for quite awhile.  I have slowly adjusted and accepted life as it is because that just is the way that it is.  I do socialize quite a bit as I am very fortunate to have good friends and a wonderful family   I also found a volunteer job where I am needed but it is only for a day a week which leaves 6 other days to fill with busy work. That is easy to do in the spring and summer as there is much outside that I enjoy doing or visiting.  The winter, though, does drag on. Last week I found myself washing my walls.  I started by wiping a spot by an electrical outlet,  but then I noticed more that needed my attention and three hours later I had completely cleaned most of the walls on one floor of my home.  Yes, I know what you are thinking.  "Arleen has gone over the edge."  You may be right.   "Busy work" is not fun and not satisfying and Lordy, Lordy, I should be able to think of more interesting things to do with my time.  However, looking at a You Tube the other day, I realized that there are so many other people out there who also seem to have time on their hands.

Washing a wall gives you a clean wall, but who cares.  Making people laugh by doing silly things is much more productive.  

Next week I may start training my cats to do something funny and maybe will enlist hubby. I'll see what they do with an aluminium foil ball. Video to follow.

Flying into the Sun

 

 



When spring comes, I will be OK

Some of the blogs I have read today have to do with people seeing the birds coming back to their area. Two of my favorite writers, Cro,of Magnon's Meanderings and Joanne, of Cup on the Bus wrote about their sightings of Cranes and Blue Herons.  Any sign of the promise of the coming spring brings great joy to us who have been beaten up with the storms and solitude of this wretched winter.

Due to the oversupply of bird feeders in my yard, we have become "destination point" for many species of the northeastern American continent.  One lovely thing about the snow (yes, I said lovely) is that it is a wonderful backdrop for the colors that these birds bring.  We have hundreds of Cardinals, Blue Jays, and Red-Winged Black Birds and I am always in awe of the beauty that these creatures add to the landscape.

In December of 2012, I was awakened by my husband in the morning and told to look out the window.  Sitting in the tree closest to my house sat Turkey Vultures that appeared to be looking in my window contemplating dinner.  That was not exactly a happy greeting to start the day.   I wrote about it in a post then and included was this picture.

 

Not an encouraging sight.

This year, though,  they have been replaced by more pleasant looking Pheasants.  Yes, we do see them in many of the fields and farms in my area, but never have I spotted them in my yard.  First we saw the rooster.


 
and if you have noticed my header picture, you will see his hens in the background.



He walked among the brush towards the creek which flows through our wooded area.  The ladies stuck together, I supposed discussing the merits or not of their chosen one. 

I tried to follow them with my camera, but once deeper in the trees and the bushes, their color was morphed into the background. 



Hopefully the scenes from my backyard will change soon and instead of the above, I will look out to this.



Looking forward to a season change and the sight of many Goldfinches.

Right now, though, I wish I was surrounded by Flamingos and sipping a yummy tropical drink.

All You Need Is Love

So much snow, so much anxiety, but all in all, I am doing OK.

When I was young, I was a hopeless romantic.


I am no longer that starry-eyed idealist, but I am still sentimental. However, marriage is not easy and everyone has had their good and bad times.  Hormones take the place of thinking in early love, and after 46 years together, mine have gone the way of my high heels (which are in the back of my closet covered with dust).  But hey, I can still be wooed by chocolates, as nothing says love like  good candy.  My sweet tooth is still intact.

I told hubby to forget the flowers this year and because of the icy roads, we will forgo a dinner out. I have a frozen pizza in the fridge and that sounds just fine to me.  However, we will exchange funny cards and have a good laugh.  We will enjoy some fine wine, share a bag of M&Ms and then he will fall asleep in his old man's chair and I on the couch.  It is just comfy that way. 

There is a lot to be said for "comfy"

To Keurig or not to Keurig

Digging out from the snow most days lately, but I am doing OK.



I love the smell of coffee, but have never enjoyed its  taste.  I learned at an early age how to perk a good pot for my parents, but after tasting it, I decided to stick to milk.  My mom also had a rule that children should not drink this caffeinated drink until they were of a certain age, and it was always assumed it was when we moved out of the house.  Being Irish Americans, we were allowed to drink decaf tea when we reached 12, and that has been my drink of choice since then.

Hubby also does not drink coffee, although in the past few years he does have a cup at work when he gets there in the morning.  We have happily gotten along without a coffee pot taking over precious space on our counter top for 46 years.  However, when our children left home, three of them went to the caffeine well and became junkies. I broke down and bought a small coffee maker that I keep on a shelf in the basement, only to be taken out during the holidays.  Any other time the unwritten rule is, if you want it, bring it with you.

Then Keurig became the next big thing and everybody had to have one.  I just dismissed it when friends showed me theirs and gushed over it ad nauseam.  "See, Arleen, it makes tea also" they would say.  With my old lady attitude, I would say, "I've got a kettle for that."   Eyebrows would raise and they would walk away probably talking about what an old fart I was.

In November, hubby made a quick run to the store to get some butter and came home with a large box.  He had this guilty smile on his face and presented me with a Keurig.   I sent him for butter and he came home with a big, expensive coffee maker.  I was not happy and the shock on my face when he told me how much it cost turned his smile into a frown.  He gave me all his reasons for buying it ( it was on sale) and because I felt somewhat bad about my negative reaction, I relented.  He placed it on the counter and set about making some fancy brew.  

He is happy, my family is happy and they are all wired happily together.  Things could be worse.

Maybe, when no one is looking, I will make myself some hot chocolate on that machine - but I will never tell.

Well, Hello New York, It's Us.

Remembering back to last month and doing OK.

My Christmas gift to my family this year was to take them all to New York City to see the sights of the holiday season.  Fourteen out of sixteen smiled and said, "Great", although I know some of them were not as enthusiastic as the others.  However, they did not want to hurt my feelings so the tickets were purchased.  We live about 2 1/2 hours away by chartered bus and on December 21st, we all hopped aboard and I kept my fingers crossed.

















After two successive weekends of snowstorms, we were lucky to have chosen a Saturday that was sunny and warm.  We arrived in the city an hour early, so we rearranged the schedule and began our tour at Toys R Us (for the grandchildren) which is on 44th and Times Square.

 It was early in the AM so I did not expect it to be crowded.   Wrong, wrong, Wrong!  Apparently, word got out that Arleen's family would be there, and thousands came to join us.




We then proceeded to lunch at Becco's on 46th and 9th, one of my favorite NY restaurants, not only because of the food, but also because of their good, cheap wine.

After lunch we sprinted to Rockefeller Center on 50th and 5th Avenue. There we were greeted by what could be described as the population of a mid-sized country and they had also brought along 13 of their relatives.  Oh, how glad I was that I had that wine at lunch.  Here my schedule said "2 hour free time" and we all broke up into small groups.  Most of that time was about getting through the crowds.  We found refuge in the Museum Store and took our pictures of the outside scene from inside that very pleasant store.  We also bought a few wonderful items.




I was born in New York and lived my first 16 years there.  The city excites me, I love everything about it, including the multitudes of people and all its craziness.  My children grew up in rural Pennsylvania; they like hills and dales, fauna and flora, deer and birds and cows. Wusses', all of them.  Next time though, if I suggest a trip to NY, I will plan it for the spring when millions will not be there to see a damn tree that was grown in Connecticut.   (It was very beautiful though.)



We did a lot of walking, saw quite a bit, (Times Square was a trip in so many ways) and despite the crowds, it was a good day.  I had a great time, made some fond and funny memories, and will always love, love, love New York. 

What Polar Vortex?

Staying inside and I am doing OK.

My daughter and her family, who live in the Monterey Bay area of California, visited us during the Christmas holidays.  Because of the large snowstorm we had, they delayed their return for a day.





At 5:30 am on Saturday morning, they left for home when the temperature here was a bone chilling -6 degrees.

The next afternoon they sent me these pictures.




7 yr. old Poppy "in the moment.".

Everything is Zen in California.

However, back in Pennsylvania, Baby Buddha, in my not so Zen garden, is freezing his buns off.

The old Noggin

Playing games and doing OK.

I do not own a smart phone.  The dumb one does me just fine.  My daughter offered me her "old" one (which was a 2012 model) and I politely said no.  I like to think for myself and figure things out, even though thing don't come as easily as they did before.  There is a lot to be said for delayed gratification and having the joy of remembering something that was buried in the depths of my brain, even if it takes me a day or so.  I know it will pop back...... Eventually.  I worry that if I don't use it, I will lose it.

Proving who is right.
So today, while we were having a larger snowstorm than expected (all those brilliant meterologists with all their technology were wrong), I went about thinking about some of the events that had happened lately.

I noticed that in all the media footage of what is happening in South Africa, I saw little despair in the people's faces because the great man Mandela had died, but more of the joy that he had lived.

The winter weather has been brutal across the US this week.  TV showed cars spinning out on ice and snow and people stranded in airports frustrated and complaining.  I certainly feel their pain as snow has played a role in some unfortunate incidences in my life.  However, I know that no matter how much we plan our lives, Mother Nature often has the last say, so plan less and go with the flow.  It is less aggravating and more exciting.

Purple, which comes in many shades, is really very pretty.  I must put more in my gardens next year.

On the other hand, people and things that are not pretty,

Seasons Greetings

Shopping done, house decorated, presents wrapped, cards sent and I am doing OK.

I have been busy and in a few days my daughter and her family from California will be visiting.  I am extremely blessed to have all of my children and their families with me during this happy season.  We will laugh, share food, (even tofu) and stories and be grateful for all we have been given.  We will also be crazy (like most families) and if things go wrong, we will all find the fun in it - eventually.

I wish you all the happiness that the holidays can bring.  No matter what is happening in your life at this time, I ask that you look for joy, any joy, because that is the food for the heart and soul.  I have gotten through all these chapters of my life, because I have always had hope and hope is where the sun shines through all the clouds.  I can tell you that my heart has been aching these past six weeks and bad news keep coming at me daily, but I hold on to those I love and know that I will be OK.

Find a reason to laugh and love and know that it is presence, not presents, that people want, that it is kindness that counts, and everybody (even those who are invisible in our society) is somebody.

Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, and Seasons Greetings to you all.  See you next year.

Sentimental Journey

It is late fall, and I am doing OK

As I look back at my life, I know I have always done the things that were expected of me.  I have also done things that were not expected of me.  I had more fun doing the latter.

Happiness is about surprising ourselves and, just possibly, someone else.

Smile, It's Worth the Effort

I am having a rough month, but I am doing OK.

Did you get up this morning and step onto the cat's recently excreted hair ball?  You hop into the bathroom and after cleaning your feet  and gagging, you find that the battery in your toothbrush went dead and the water in the toilet wouldn't stop running.  Signals like that don't bode well for the day and you have a feeling that the next few hours are also headed for the crapper. But things don't have to be that way.  Pick yourself up, and find a reason to smile.  



Now wasn't that better.

The History of Wood

A cold wind is blowing, but I am doing OK.

My husband has not retired yet, but last night I saw him sitting in his "old man's chair" with a cat on his lap and watching a two hour program about wood on The History Channel.  At that moment, I saw my future.  

Anne

Today is hard, my heart is broken, and I am not doing OK

I had a friend, a very dear friend.  She made me laugh; she inspired me; she taught me how to look for joy.  She would tell me she was scared, she thought she was not strong, but I did not know anyone more courageous than her.  Life knocked her down and she experienced much loss and pain, but she kept on going because her heart was full of love and she needed to share it with others.

After a twenty year battle with lymphoma, and many remissions, Anne left us on Sunday.  She touched so many people and it can be said that to know Anne was to love her.  I last spoke to her on Wednesday and her voice was strong, which always gave me hope, even though I knew that time was getting shorter. I expected the phone call would come, but I always hoped for a miracle.  The miracle, though, had already happened.  In her life she had made bad days good, made the hardest heart smile, and innocence real.

Anne was a beautiful person in all ways.

Most of us live lives that may seem unimportant on the world stage. We don't think great thoughts, make great discoveries or invent the next big thing.  We live quietly, suffer annoyances, bare up under pressure, and relish the good times we get.  The years pile up and sometimes the days might be more about enduring than enjoying. Too many of us cloud our lives with negativity but we all have a choice on how we color each of our days. My friend, Anne, was always a bright yellow light, birthdays were always happy birthdays, and she was grateful for each moment of her life.  She made a difference, her thoughts were sweet and kind, and good times with her were the best.  They say it is not the years in your life that count, but the life in your years.  I say it is also measured by those whose lives you touch and I, and those who knew Anne, were touched by an angel.

I'm Not Your Honey

Too many little annoyances lately, but I am doing OK.

When my mom got very ill and was in the hospital twelve years ago, I noticed that all the nurses and staff called her "honey".  As sick as she was and as grateful she was for the care she received, being called by that term would arouse her ire.  She was a strong, intelligent woman in a vulnerable state and she thought it demeaning that strangers would address her in that way.  She was still a person and was nobody's honey.  My dad always called her "dear" because she was that to him, but sweet and gooey she was not.

Last weekend we went to the Movie Tavern to see Tom Hanks' newest movie, Captain Phillips (very good).  The waitress, a very chatty individual who seemed to want to tell all her customers her life story ( she was 41, had a 20 year old daughter who was driving her crazy, blah, blah, blah),  asked my husband what he would like to eat and drink.  After putting his order into her little computer, she turned to me and said, "And what can I get you, HONEY.  Holy Moley, I have now been put into the fragile, feeble, old chrone category by a twit.  I thought I had a few more years left before I hit my "doting" stage in life.  I wanted to scream at her, "I am still vital, I contribute, I still have a brain, I know what is going on, and I use apps.  But I didn't and remained the polite person I am.

She called me "honey" three times that evening. Her tip was reduced by 3%.  In the end, old ladies rule.

I'm Screwed

Having a love/hate relationship with my computer, but I am doing OK.

I have been trying to write a blog for a week now, but my Mr. Dell is not cooperating.  The dashboard on Blogger is not coming up and I am unable to do anything.  Since my reliable Apple iPad shows everything just fine, I suspect that something nasty has attached itself to my elderly computer.  You know how scammers and spammers prey on the old and vulnerable, well they got me and my Dell pretty good.

I have had this iPad for almost two years now and sometimes use it for writing my posts.  However, I don't know how to do the iCloud bit or play around with apps to get the things I need. Everything changes so quickly in technology and instead of taxing my brain with things that will be different next week, I just work around what I know and avoid the frustration.

Hopefully, I will get out of this mess by next week and resume my blog with pictures. Maybe I will have my 10 year old granddaughter come over to work on it with me as this techie stuff is second nature to kids.   Everybody over 50 is using their brains for more cerebral things - at least that is what I tell myself.

Why I Am Glad My Son Studied Computers

Took some time to enjoy the waning days of summer and I am doing OK.

In my last post, I wrote about how the hickory tree in my backyard attempted suicide and took a neighboring cherry with it.  Another old soul, also a cherry, was injured in the melee, but will survive, albeit without some limbs.  With the help of my daughter's friend and dear hubby testing fate, the branches that were hanging on and close to the ground were cut off and the area cleaned up. It was a very big job and a lot of sweat was spent. The good thing is that half of the hickory tree could be saved.  Unfortunately, the tree next to it had to be completely removed, and it was done in a quick manner, a la Marie Antoinette.  Its passing was mourned and tears were shed. 

What was left was a branch of about 30 feet in length hanging capriciously from the split trunk. The other half was sprawled sideways in the other direction and spanned a few trees.  This had to be left to a professional.  After calling five different companies (some did not have the equipment, others said they would come, but never showed up), we found a young man who was willing to take the job for a very reasonable fee.



He came last Friday.  As I watched him and his assistant, my throat was in my stomach.  Holy moly, how does his mother let him do that. ?







Needless to say, I was a Nervous Nelly during the two hours this young man, Zack, flew through my trees on an orange rope. 

I am so grateful that back in the 80's and 90's my husband worked for a computer company and my son became enamored with all the hardware and software that he would bring home (legally).  Andy went to college, got his degree and has a successful career. He travels to far-off places, has his adventures but doesn't do anything in his job that would cause his dear old mother to pull her hair out because of stress.  However, I bet he would love to change jobs with Zack for a day or two because that young man certainly looked like he was doing something he loved and by the look on his face when he had completed the job, he had had a great time.

Free to be, free to be, but not me.  A three-step ladder will take me as high as I wish to see.