Folks, I got this email today from my friend who's dating a priest--we'll not go into that right now. Anyway, I figured you all needed a laugh today.
The Washington Post's Mensa Invitational once again asked readers to take any word from the dictionary, alter it by adding, subtracting, or changing one letter, and supply a new definition. Here are this year's winners. Each is an artificial word with only one letter altered to form a real word. Some are terrifically innovative:
1. Intaxication: Euphoria at getting a tax refund, which lasts until you realize it was your money to start with.
2. Reintarnation: Coming back to life as a hillbilly.
3. Bozone (n.): The substance surrounding stupid people, that stops bright ideas from penetrating. The Bozone layer, unfortunately, shows little sign of breaking down in the near future.
4. Cashtration (n.): The act of buying a house, which renders the subject financially impotent for an indefinite period of time.
5. Giraffiti: Vandalism spray-painted very, very high.
6. Sarchasm: The gulf between the author of sarcastic wit and the person who doesn't get it.
7. Inoculatte: To take coffee intravenously when you are running late.
8. Hipatitis: Terminal coolness.
9. Osteopornosis: A degenerate disease. (This one got extra credit.)
10. Karmageddon: It's like, when everybody is sending off all these really bad vibes, right? And then, like, the Earth explodes and it's like, a serious bummer.
11. Decafalon (n.): The grueling event of getting through the day consuming only things that are good for you.
12. Glibido: All talk and no action.
13. Dopeler Effect: The tendency of stupid ideas to seem smarter when they come at you rapidly.
14. Arachnoleptic Fit (n.): The frantic dance performed just after you've accidentally walked through a spider web.
15. Beelzebug (n.): Satan in the form of a mosquito, that gets into your bedroom at three in the morning and cannot be cast out.
16. Caterpallor (n.): The color you turn after finding half a worm in the fruit you're eating.
And, the pick of the lot...
17. Ignoranus: A person who's both stupid and an asshole.
Thursday, October 18, 2007
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
The DTA had its monthly meeting today...
at the usual place (the Mexican McDonald's, for those of you familiar with that city). Only four members were there, the Equestrian, JJSMommy, beloved Jane-who-loves-big-pins, and Yours Truly, the designated driver. We started out with the mandatory margaritas and in a corner booth, but had to move since some of us were feeling claustrophobic. (I won't name them, but the table in the booth couldn't be scooted out far enough to give them room, even if it were on the diagonal.) Surprisingly, all went really well until the Equestrian said she had some bad news. Then she reported, "We have to go back to work next week." Of course Jane and I just laughed at her, which may have slightly hurt her feelings. She said to JJSMommy, "I think we need to move back to the booth--at least over there, people didn't laugh at us."
All in all, it was a good two-and-a-half-hour power lunch, with enough food left for my supper. Supplement that with a burrito for David, and no cooking necessary. I do like that place. Oh, and by the way, the little decorative bottle of brandy in the little decorative cooler has a lid that unscrews, and there is a liquid inside that smells vaguely of apples. Hmmmm, wonder if it really is brandy? As the Designated Driver and Tee Totaler, I'll never know.
Love to all, and God bless.
All in all, it was a good two-and-a-half-hour power lunch, with enough food left for my supper. Supplement that with a burrito for David, and no cooking necessary. I do like that place. Oh, and by the way, the little decorative bottle of brandy in the little decorative cooler has a lid that unscrews, and there is a liquid inside that smells vaguely of apples. Hmmmm, wonder if it really is brandy? As the Designated Driver and Tee Totaler, I'll never know.
Love to all, and God bless.
Monday, October 08, 2007
October 8 is a special day
35 years ago today I was sitting in church, in the choir rather than on the organ bench, my usual place. David was directing singing--he was minister of music, I was organist. When he got up to direct the final hymn, I told him quickly and quietly that we would be leaving RIGHT after church, rather than sticking around to talk like we usually did. He took one look at me and figured out why we would be leaving--matter of fact, I had to convince him that he had time to lead that last song.
We got home pretty quickly, although not record time--twenty miles, give or take a few, about 30 minutes. Then we ate lunch and talked about what else we would be doing that day. After consulting a friend, we called my folks to tell them to get to town, that "the show was on the road," and David and I headed for John Graves Ford Memorial.
Then we started the waiting game. That lasted pretty long and was pretty boring--nothing much happening for the first three hours or so. Mom and Dad got there, and we had a pleasant little visit. We sort of wondered if maybe we had misinterpreted signs from the morning, since stuff was going so slowly. I also wondered if maybe I shouldn't have some supper, but friends said no, just wait.
H stopped in for a quick visit, then headed home for his own supper--he anticipated having a good couple of hours before he needed to show up again. Dang it, I was getting hungry, too. But all that changed REALLY quickly. Stuff started happening lickety split. Matter of fact, when the girls stopped by the room and had a look, they got on the phone and called H to tell him to get back there! Only problem--no cell phones in 1972, and H hadn't gotten home yet. His wife took her place on the road at the bridge before he could get to his house, flagged him down, and sent him back to town. (Fortunately it wasn't too far.)
He got back in time, took a look at David, and said, "Get dressed. You're coming with me." Within less than twenty minutes, we were having a birthday party for, TA DAH, Everett William! Up until the time he arrived in the room, we had two choices for party guests, but Everett William was the one that showed up. Good thing, too, because his was the only name on the list!
Let's just say I'll always remember October 8th in a special way. Love to all, and God bless.
We got home pretty quickly, although not record time--twenty miles, give or take a few, about 30 minutes. Then we ate lunch and talked about what else we would be doing that day. After consulting a friend, we called my folks to tell them to get to town, that "the show was on the road," and David and I headed for John Graves Ford Memorial.
Then we started the waiting game. That lasted pretty long and was pretty boring--nothing much happening for the first three hours or so. Mom and Dad got there, and we had a pleasant little visit. We sort of wondered if maybe we had misinterpreted signs from the morning, since stuff was going so slowly. I also wondered if maybe I shouldn't have some supper, but friends said no, just wait.
H stopped in for a quick visit, then headed home for his own supper--he anticipated having a good couple of hours before he needed to show up again. Dang it, I was getting hungry, too. But all that changed REALLY quickly. Stuff started happening lickety split. Matter of fact, when the girls stopped by the room and had a look, they got on the phone and called H to tell him to get back there! Only problem--no cell phones in 1972, and H hadn't gotten home yet. His wife took her place on the road at the bridge before he could get to his house, flagged him down, and sent him back to town. (Fortunately it wasn't too far.)
He got back in time, took a look at David, and said, "Get dressed. You're coming with me." Within less than twenty minutes, we were having a birthday party for, TA DAH, Everett William! Up until the time he arrived in the room, we had two choices for party guests, but Everett William was the one that showed up. Good thing, too, because his was the only name on the list!
Let's just say I'll always remember October 8th in a special way. Love to all, and God bless.
Thursday, October 04, 2007
Molly, how do I love thee? Let me count the ways...
Things I'm going to miss about Molly not being a part of our family anymore:
1. What the heck am I going to do with my peanut butter jars? Nothing made Molly any happier when we went to see her than to give her an almost-empty peanut butter jar. She'd have that sucker licked clean in less than five minutes. Being part German Shepherd and having a long pointy snout helped on that aspect.
2. What dog am I going to talk about when folks are telling dog stories? Molly is the closest thing to a pet dog we've had since we married. Her living with Libby and Dexter and us visiting her there was the ideal situation for folks who can't be bothered with taking the responsibility of caring for a dog of their own...
3. Is there a dog anywhere who is much better trained? I hope Molly's new family appreciates all the work that went in to training her as far as table manners are concerned--they're surely not going to find another dog like her, who is tall enough to see what is on the table and well-enough mannered to leave it alone.
4. I'll miss the bruises on my legs from her tail wagging--boy, could she wag that sucker hard!
5. I'll miss my mount in the Derby--I could just straddle her. I didn't try to see if she could bear my weight--doesn't matter, I'm not a jockey anyway. (Hey remember, I said she was big!)
6. I'll miss introducing her to Cora Sophie. Molly was great with babies. She would walk around them so carefully, never stepping on them, knocking them over, or anything. And she didn't seem to mind if they used her for something to pull up on.
7. I remember how sweet she was with my mama. Mama dearly loved all dogs. I think Molly was special to her, though, because she had a German Shepherd as a child. When Mama was living out her last year at the nursing home, Libby brought Molly to visit her. Molly had never been to the facility before, but she was a dog on a mission when she got there--she was looking for Ann. She headed down the hall, past the nurses' station, and straight into Ann's room. Then she sat down on the floor and waited for Ann to come in, too. It absolutely shocked us--Mom wasn't in the room, but Molly knew which room was hers and was willing to wait until she showed up.
8. I'll miss Deck's stories about Molly and her sister and mother. See, Molly was part of a family of great dogs. Zena, the mom, had three pups, Molly, Bertha, and unnamed pup. My BFF in my home town had adopted all four dogs when their original owner had threatened to put them down. They were, like I said, great dogs. Unnamed pup found a home of her own, but BFF kept Molly, Bertha, and Zena. BFF and her husband have out-of-town family (WAY out of town family--out of the state, and almost out of the country!) that they visit at least once a year. While they were gone, the mother and her daughters often stayed at Libby's house. It was a pleasure to see the three of them interacting with each other. It was also fun to watch them eating--they had to lie down before they got their food. (This was to keep Bertha from eating everyone's dinner.) And, according to Deck, "Three big dogs make a big pile of dog waste!"
Oh, well. I do hope Molly is happy in her new home. I am really going to miss her, big pile of dog waste and all!
Good night to all, and God bless.
1. What the heck am I going to do with my peanut butter jars? Nothing made Molly any happier when we went to see her than to give her an almost-empty peanut butter jar. She'd have that sucker licked clean in less than five minutes. Being part German Shepherd and having a long pointy snout helped on that aspect.
2. What dog am I going to talk about when folks are telling dog stories? Molly is the closest thing to a pet dog we've had since we married. Her living with Libby and Dexter and us visiting her there was the ideal situation for folks who can't be bothered with taking the responsibility of caring for a dog of their own...
3. Is there a dog anywhere who is much better trained? I hope Molly's new family appreciates all the work that went in to training her as far as table manners are concerned--they're surely not going to find another dog like her, who is tall enough to see what is on the table and well-enough mannered to leave it alone.
4. I'll miss the bruises on my legs from her tail wagging--boy, could she wag that sucker hard!
5. I'll miss my mount in the Derby--I could just straddle her. I didn't try to see if she could bear my weight--doesn't matter, I'm not a jockey anyway. (Hey remember, I said she was big!)
6. I'll miss introducing her to Cora Sophie. Molly was great with babies. She would walk around them so carefully, never stepping on them, knocking them over, or anything. And she didn't seem to mind if they used her for something to pull up on.
7. I remember how sweet she was with my mama. Mama dearly loved all dogs. I think Molly was special to her, though, because she had a German Shepherd as a child. When Mama was living out her last year at the nursing home, Libby brought Molly to visit her. Molly had never been to the facility before, but she was a dog on a mission when she got there--she was looking for Ann. She headed down the hall, past the nurses' station, and straight into Ann's room. Then she sat down on the floor and waited for Ann to come in, too. It absolutely shocked us--Mom wasn't in the room, but Molly knew which room was hers and was willing to wait until she showed up.
8. I'll miss Deck's stories about Molly and her sister and mother. See, Molly was part of a family of great dogs. Zena, the mom, had three pups, Molly, Bertha, and unnamed pup. My BFF in my home town had adopted all four dogs when their original owner had threatened to put them down. They were, like I said, great dogs. Unnamed pup found a home of her own, but BFF kept Molly, Bertha, and Zena. BFF and her husband have out-of-town family (WAY out of town family--out of the state, and almost out of the country!) that they visit at least once a year. While they were gone, the mother and her daughters often stayed at Libby's house. It was a pleasure to see the three of them interacting with each other. It was also fun to watch them eating--they had to lie down before they got their food. (This was to keep Bertha from eating everyone's dinner.) And, according to Deck, "Three big dogs make a big pile of dog waste!"
Oh, well. I do hope Molly is happy in her new home. I am really going to miss her, big pile of dog waste and all!
Good night to all, and God bless.
If it's Thursday, it must be Friendship--again!
Oh my word. Someone spread the word that there were some absolutely nutty American ladies (and some kind-hearted Japanese ladies) with nothing better to do than to keep babies all morning on Thursdays. Why do I say that? We had TEN infants and probably TEN toddlers this morning! (Like I said last week, it seemed more like 100.) Did I mention we were short-handed today? Yep. We were. Three workers to six infants was a strain, but four for ten wasn't any better!
I started of in bed babies with a little dear we'll call MegJoBethAmy, Little Woman, or LW, maybe two months old--one of the five new Chinese babies who showed up today. Not only were there 10 babies, more than half of them were first-timers! Little Woman peed--I knew she had peed, because her diaper was warm--and then started crying. I went and fetched her diaper bag. One problem: I got Pizza Girl's diaper bag, not LW's. Fortunately they were the same size, so I just put one of PG's diapers on LW. Of course as lots of tots her age do, not only had she peed...And also like lots of tots her age, she absolutely HATED having her pants changed! Which was too bad, because before the morning was over, I had changed her three times. (Probably would have been more, but I wasn't in that room all morning.) That seemed to do her for a while. Kyoko, the Japanese woman who has a "key" to working with the babies, got her settled into a swing, and she went to sleep. Good for you, Little Woman, because across the hall in toddlers, more help was needed.
Ramses and Cleopatra were back again. Ramses you may remember from our last blog, is really too old for the bed baby nursery, even though Cleo would fit right in, so we compromise and put them both in toddlers. Turns out Ramses is really too old for toddlers, too--he just turned three in September. Mama tried to get both of them into the 3-year-old class, but the worker there rightfully insisted that Cleo was too young to be in there, and they would have to go back down the hall. Once again I reassured Mama that they would be all right, that we would keep them together in toddlers. And once again, Cleo threw a fit royal. She sat there and yelled and shook her head and kicked her feet and let us know that our room was NOT where she wanted to be. I know those of you who are mothers are aware of this--there is NO language barrier with toddlers. No is the same in all languages.
Ram tested us today with throwing, but soon caught on that throwing balls was okay, throwing hard toys wasn't. He also showed us his musical ability today with the guitar. He had this really cool, rhythmic song he kept singing, sounded like "Two lil duds" or something else I didn't recognize. I told the ladies in toddlers it was probably some obscene Egyptian rap song, and they cracked up. We needed the humor, since at the time Ramses was the only one who wasn't crying. Another thing he did that got us giggling was when he fell off the riding duck and hit his head on the fence in the room--no harm. I asked him if the duck bucked him off--the Japanese ladies collapsed into a fit of giggles then. I said I hoped Ram wouldn't go home and try to repeat that bit about the duck buck, because our luck, he'd probably not get it out right, and they would think we had been teaching him bad words!
Since Ram was settled and nothing was going to settle Cleo short of a tranquilizer, I went out into the lobby just in time to meet a little Korean girl (we'll call her Vashti) and "Ahnya hash a meeka'd" her mom (yes, I know the spelling is way off). Mom giggled and responded in kind, and Vashti decided that maybe, just maybe, I could take her in to the toddler room. She was crying, but not completely hopelessly like Cleo. She settled down pretty easily and started playing. Of course, all Cleo had to do was look over and see me, and she started her tantrum again. What to do? I didn't need to ponder the dilemma long, because Key showed up at the door--We need Susan. Baby room.
Back to the baby room. Little Woman was crying again. I picked her up--yes, dirty diaper again. Throw a fit, LW, I'm changing your pants anyway--oh, shoot, don't pee on the clean diaper! Changing pants again! By then she was really burned out with me. I remembered there had been a pacifier in her bag (not PG's, hers)--no, not what she wanted. There was also a little formula bottle in there, one of the freebies they give you at the hospital. That should have been a clue that this person wasn't a bottle baby... Right. She didn't want THAT, either. No, thank you, rocking was out of the question. Walking the floor? Well, maybe, for about a minute. She wasn't old enough to be interested in watching the other kids, and I couldn't stay in the toddler room anyway, despite the fact that Vashti was wanting me to come back, because Cleo threw a fit when she saw me come in. And it was hard to navigate in that room, since Al was trying to escape and was pretty much constantly underfoot.
I tried sitting down again with Little Woman and tried the bottle again. Cornie, another worker, said, "Is that her bottle?" I replied, "No, but maybe she'll take it anyway." (It really was her bottle, but she wasn't going to take it, so it didn't matter.) So what do you do when you try the pants, the pacifier, the bottle, the rocker, and floor walking, and nothing works? You go look for the mama, at least with the bed babies, you go look for the mama. I found her without a lot of difficulty, brought her back to the nursery, and found a place where she could feed LW. That took care of LW. Good thing--because now Jackie Chan was pitching a fit. Wooo boy, he out-screamed all the other kiddos! Right when the mamas were coming! And of course, his mama was one of the LAST ones to show up! (That never fails. There's a reason why they aren't in a hurry to come back...)
But show up she did, and all the babies left the church happy. Ram and Cleo's mama was once again very grateful for our kindness to her babies, and like I said, that sort of gratitude makes the floor walking well worth the effort. Little Woman's mama apologized about her daughter's crying. I told her no, I should be the one apologizing, because I had not come after her soon enough. We need to set a protocol for these poor little bitty babies--maybe fifteen minutes, and then we fetch Mama? Usually they just need to nurse a while, and then they're satisfied. Anyway, I do love Friendship, and I do love my babies!
Good night to all, and God bless.
I started of in bed babies with a little dear we'll call MegJoBethAmy, Little Woman, or LW, maybe two months old--one of the five new Chinese babies who showed up today. Not only were there 10 babies, more than half of them were first-timers! Little Woman peed--I knew she had peed, because her diaper was warm--and then started crying. I went and fetched her diaper bag. One problem: I got Pizza Girl's diaper bag, not LW's. Fortunately they were the same size, so I just put one of PG's diapers on LW. Of course as lots of tots her age do, not only had she peed...And also like lots of tots her age, she absolutely HATED having her pants changed! Which was too bad, because before the morning was over, I had changed her three times. (Probably would have been more, but I wasn't in that room all morning.) That seemed to do her for a while. Kyoko, the Japanese woman who has a "key" to working with the babies, got her settled into a swing, and she went to sleep. Good for you, Little Woman, because across the hall in toddlers, more help was needed.
Ramses and Cleopatra were back again. Ramses you may remember from our last blog, is really too old for the bed baby nursery, even though Cleo would fit right in, so we compromise and put them both in toddlers. Turns out Ramses is really too old for toddlers, too--he just turned three in September. Mama tried to get both of them into the 3-year-old class, but the worker there rightfully insisted that Cleo was too young to be in there, and they would have to go back down the hall. Once again I reassured Mama that they would be all right, that we would keep them together in toddlers. And once again, Cleo threw a fit royal. She sat there and yelled and shook her head and kicked her feet and let us know that our room was NOT where she wanted to be. I know those of you who are mothers are aware of this--there is NO language barrier with toddlers. No is the same in all languages.
Ram tested us today with throwing, but soon caught on that throwing balls was okay, throwing hard toys wasn't. He also showed us his musical ability today with the guitar. He had this really cool, rhythmic song he kept singing, sounded like "Two lil duds" or something else I didn't recognize. I told the ladies in toddlers it was probably some obscene Egyptian rap song, and they cracked up. We needed the humor, since at the time Ramses was the only one who wasn't crying. Another thing he did that got us giggling was when he fell off the riding duck and hit his head on the fence in the room--no harm. I asked him if the duck bucked him off--the Japanese ladies collapsed into a fit of giggles then. I said I hoped Ram wouldn't go home and try to repeat that bit about the duck buck, because our luck, he'd probably not get it out right, and they would think we had been teaching him bad words!
Since Ram was settled and nothing was going to settle Cleo short of a tranquilizer, I went out into the lobby just in time to meet a little Korean girl (we'll call her Vashti) and "Ahnya hash a meeka'd" her mom (yes, I know the spelling is way off). Mom giggled and responded in kind, and Vashti decided that maybe, just maybe, I could take her in to the toddler room. She was crying, but not completely hopelessly like Cleo. She settled down pretty easily and started playing. Of course, all Cleo had to do was look over and see me, and she started her tantrum again. What to do? I didn't need to ponder the dilemma long, because Key showed up at the door--We need Susan. Baby room.
Back to the baby room. Little Woman was crying again. I picked her up--yes, dirty diaper again. Throw a fit, LW, I'm changing your pants anyway--oh, shoot, don't pee on the clean diaper! Changing pants again! By then she was really burned out with me. I remembered there had been a pacifier in her bag (not PG's, hers)--no, not what she wanted. There was also a little formula bottle in there, one of the freebies they give you at the hospital. That should have been a clue that this person wasn't a bottle baby... Right. She didn't want THAT, either. No, thank you, rocking was out of the question. Walking the floor? Well, maybe, for about a minute. She wasn't old enough to be interested in watching the other kids, and I couldn't stay in the toddler room anyway, despite the fact that Vashti was wanting me to come back, because Cleo threw a fit when she saw me come in. And it was hard to navigate in that room, since Al was trying to escape and was pretty much constantly underfoot.
I tried sitting down again with Little Woman and tried the bottle again. Cornie, another worker, said, "Is that her bottle?" I replied, "No, but maybe she'll take it anyway." (It really was her bottle, but she wasn't going to take it, so it didn't matter.) So what do you do when you try the pants, the pacifier, the bottle, the rocker, and floor walking, and nothing works? You go look for the mama, at least with the bed babies, you go look for the mama. I found her without a lot of difficulty, brought her back to the nursery, and found a place where she could feed LW. That took care of LW. Good thing--because now Jackie Chan was pitching a fit. Wooo boy, he out-screamed all the other kiddos! Right when the mamas were coming! And of course, his mama was one of the LAST ones to show up! (That never fails. There's a reason why they aren't in a hurry to come back...)
But show up she did, and all the babies left the church happy. Ram and Cleo's mama was once again very grateful for our kindness to her babies, and like I said, that sort of gratitude makes the floor walking well worth the effort. Little Woman's mama apologized about her daughter's crying. I told her no, I should be the one apologizing, because I had not come after her soon enough. We need to set a protocol for these poor little bitty babies--maybe fifteen minutes, and then we fetch Mama? Usually they just need to nurse a while, and then they're satisfied. Anyway, I do love Friendship, and I do love my babies!
Good night to all, and God bless.
Wednesday, October 03, 2007
I can't believe she's gone.
I just got an email from my cousin Libby. For quite a few years now, Libby has been the owner of a beautiful Rottweiler/German Shepherd cross, Molly. Molly has been so much a part of Libby's family that it is hard to remember when she actually came to live with her. The news--Molly isn't living with Libby and Dexter anymore. She has gone to live with another family, in another city.
David always called her the gentle giant. You can imagine her size, but maybe not her loving nature. Whenever we went to Libby's, Molly would let the family know we were there with one "Woof". Then she would look to see who was coming and run to fetch a toy to show us. Sometimes she would even be carrying two or three toys! (Hey, she is a big dog with a big mouth.) She took up a lot of space in their little house--she is a house dog, you see, and like I said, she is a big dog! She had a "den" behind the recliner where she would go to get out of the way. It was very common to hear, "Molly, go to your den," and that's where she would head.
Gee, folks, I can't concentrate. This is news that will take a while to settle in and become a part of my thinking. Maybe I'll tell you more tomorrow. Right now, it's about all I can handle to think that Molly won't be at Libby's anymore when we go to visit. I'm sad.
Love to all, and God bless.
David always called her the gentle giant. You can imagine her size, but maybe not her loving nature. Whenever we went to Libby's, Molly would let the family know we were there with one "Woof". Then she would look to see who was coming and run to fetch a toy to show us. Sometimes she would even be carrying two or three toys! (Hey, she is a big dog with a big mouth.) She took up a lot of space in their little house--she is a house dog, you see, and like I said, she is a big dog! She had a "den" behind the recliner where she would go to get out of the way. It was very common to hear, "Molly, go to your den," and that's where she would head.
Gee, folks, I can't concentrate. This is news that will take a while to settle in and become a part of my thinking. Maybe I'll tell you more tomorrow. Right now, it's about all I can handle to think that Molly won't be at Libby's anymore when we go to visit. I'm sad.
Love to all, and God bless.
Tuesday, October 02, 2007
I must be getting old...
My good friend Ella called me yesterday afternoon. She wanted to know if I were coming to the Silver Splash this morning. I told her I hadn't planned on it, that I thought I'd just go to the 9:00 water aerobics class I had been attending fairly regularly (which she also attended). She seemed a little disappointed that I wasn't going to be there. When I pressed her on the matter, she said she had been the only person at the class the previous Thursday.
Since I have been a huge supporter of the Silver Sneakers program, I didn't like hearing that its water version, Silver Splash wasn't being attended. There are not a lot of fitness programs in our areas for folks with silver in their hair, other than the few offered at the Senior Citizens' Center, and I don't want the ones that are available to disappear, so I decided to go to Splash this morning.
This was my second time at Silver Splash. The first time I went was the first session of the class. At that time, I thought it was an awfully poky class, not well organized at all. I should have given it another shot--it's progressed beautifully. The instructor knows the routine now, all the way through, and isn't continuously going over to consult her note cards. That helps. Also, it's a small class--only six or seven today--and that is an improvement over the 9:00 session, which has upwards of 20 every day. It's easy stuff, for sure, but you can bump up the number of reps and the tempo if it is moving too slowly, which works for me.
I told Ella I'd be back next Tuesday--I guess I'm getting old. I liked the "Old Ladies' Class".
Love to all, and God bless.
Since I have been a huge supporter of the Silver Sneakers program, I didn't like hearing that its water version, Silver Splash wasn't being attended. There are not a lot of fitness programs in our areas for folks with silver in their hair, other than the few offered at the Senior Citizens' Center, and I don't want the ones that are available to disappear, so I decided to go to Splash this morning.
This was my second time at Silver Splash. The first time I went was the first session of the class. At that time, I thought it was an awfully poky class, not well organized at all. I should have given it another shot--it's progressed beautifully. The instructor knows the routine now, all the way through, and isn't continuously going over to consult her note cards. That helps. Also, it's a small class--only six or seven today--and that is an improvement over the 9:00 session, which has upwards of 20 every day. It's easy stuff, for sure, but you can bump up the number of reps and the tempo if it is moving too slowly, which works for me.
I told Ella I'd be back next Tuesday--I guess I'm getting old. I liked the "Old Ladies' Class".
Love to all, and God bless.
Friday, September 28, 2007
What are you reading, Tooz?
Here's a quote from a book that I'm reading on-line, a little bit a day. It kind of goes along with my Friendship post from yesterday:
Solomon continued his pursuit. And then later, in the book of Proverbs, he writes a concluding thought: "What a person desires is unfailing love" (Prov. 19:22 TNIV). And don't you sense that is true? Don't you agree that the thing we're all seeking is an unfailing love to fill up the hole in our heart? IDENTITY THEFT Reclaiming Who God Created You to Be
by Mike Breaux
I found this great book in the Zondervan Breakfast Club, which is coming to my house every morning, Monday through Friday, by email. Identity Theft isn't in the stores yet, it won't be out until October, and I've only had a chance to read the first chapter. But I've already found it a blessing, a book that speaks to my needs (see Goal post, others on that line).
Some of you may wonder who Solomon is. Solomon was the son of King David, one of Israel's greatest kings, "a man after God's own heart". Solomon was given an opportunity by God to ask for any gift that he desired, riches, fame, whatever. His choice? Wisdom. Since he was to be king, he figured he needed wisdom to make wise decisions regarding his people and his country. Because he didn't ask for riches, God also blessed him with abundant wealth.
Solomon is responsible for three great books of the Bible, Proverbs, Ecclesiastes, and the Song of Solomon. Proverbs is full of great one-liners, truths you can live by from day to day. There is no real story there, just these continuing bits of wisdom. It much resembles the teachings of Confucius.
Ecclesiastes tells of man's search for happiness. The author tells of looking all over the world for things that will make him happy and comes to the conclusion that there is nothing new under the sun. How often have we older folks seen this, as fads cycle through our lifetimes! The author realizes he has a God-shaped hole in his heart, and until that hole is filled, he will never find happiness.
Song of Solomon is a love story, maybe the second greatest love story ever written. Many Christian couples have read the book together early in their marriages and have found it a great inspiration. If you're wondering why I said the second greatest love story, it's because I firmly believe the greatest love story is the one expressed in John 3:16: For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth on Him shall not perish, but have everlasting life.
If you've stuck with me this far and are interested in any of this, just let me know in the comments and I'll get in touch with you. Love to all, and God bless.
Solomon continued his pursuit. And then later, in the book of Proverbs, he writes a concluding thought: "What a person desires is unfailing love" (Prov. 19:22 TNIV). And don't you sense that is true? Don't you agree that the thing we're all seeking is an unfailing love to fill up the hole in our heart? IDENTITY THEFT Reclaiming Who God Created You to Be
by Mike Breaux
I found this great book in the Zondervan Breakfast Club, which is coming to my house every morning, Monday through Friday, by email. Identity Theft isn't in the stores yet, it won't be out until October, and I've only had a chance to read the first chapter. But I've already found it a blessing, a book that speaks to my needs (see Goal post, others on that line).
Some of you may wonder who Solomon is. Solomon was the son of King David, one of Israel's greatest kings, "a man after God's own heart". Solomon was given an opportunity by God to ask for any gift that he desired, riches, fame, whatever. His choice? Wisdom. Since he was to be king, he figured he needed wisdom to make wise decisions regarding his people and his country. Because he didn't ask for riches, God also blessed him with abundant wealth.
Solomon is responsible for three great books of the Bible, Proverbs, Ecclesiastes, and the Song of Solomon. Proverbs is full of great one-liners, truths you can live by from day to day. There is no real story there, just these continuing bits of wisdom. It much resembles the teachings of Confucius.
Ecclesiastes tells of man's search for happiness. The author tells of looking all over the world for things that will make him happy and comes to the conclusion that there is nothing new under the sun. How often have we older folks seen this, as fads cycle through our lifetimes! The author realizes he has a God-shaped hole in his heart, and until that hole is filled, he will never find happiness.
Song of Solomon is a love story, maybe the second greatest love story ever written. Many Christian couples have read the book together early in their marriages and have found it a great inspiration. If you're wondering why I said the second greatest love story, it's because I firmly believe the greatest love story is the one expressed in John 3:16: For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth on Him shall not perish, but have everlasting life.
If you've stuck with me this far and are interested in any of this, just let me know in the comments and I'll get in touch with you. Love to all, and God bless.
Thursday, September 27, 2007
Friendship, we've got friendship...
It was another great morning. Someone asked how many there were in the toddler room today. I replied 100. (Actually, it was more like 10, but it seemed more like 100.) Bed babies had a full house, too. It was great, great, great.
We had a couple of cute little Egyptian children today, "Ramses" and "Cleopatra". (I hope I don't need to tell you that those are NOT their real names.) They were first-timers. Ramses is around 2, maybe 2.5, and Cleo is close to, if not already, a year. Their mom was insistent that they be kept together, not separated. Ram wreaked havoc in the infant's room while his sister Cleo threw a tantrum fully befitting her royal name. I moved across the hall with the two in tow, into the toddler room (which was in the midst of the "Mommy's gone--I'm scared and mad" crying fit).
Cleo kept up her tantrum for almost the entire two hours she was with us. She did let me rock her, though, and she settled down somewhat when I put her in a stroller and pushed her around a little. Ram enjoyed the toys in the room and showed the typical Middle Eastern mathematical superiority as he recognized and named the shapes before putting them into the "shape-it" ball. He also let the women in the room know that HE didn't have to do what they told him to do, he was above their rule. I've seen this before with little guys like him--it always amuses me. However, he did consent to "fix" the slide after he turned it over--I told him, "Ram, fix it." He attempted to stare me down, but after he found out that was impossible, he turned the slide right-side up again.
What really touched me and meant so much to me this morning was his mama's attitude when she came back to pick the children up. She was without a doubt, one of the most precious women I have met in my two years of Friendship. She truly seemed so thankful to us for taking care of her children. She thanked me over and over. She asked if Cleo had cried all morning. I truthfully told her yes, but that she seemed to be more angry than sad. Then she asked me what she could do next week. I told her to come back and bring her children back. She seemed surprised that we would keep Cleo with all her crying. I told her we LOVED the children, that it was all right with us if they cried. We tried to help them stop crying and be content, but we would NOT stop keeping them just because of their tears. I asked her (Mama) if she had fun this morning. She replied that yes, she had. I then asked her if she had learned any English--I saw that she had signed up for the ESL class--and she replied yes, lots. Then I told her that absolutely she should bring the children back, that (I repeated) we loved them and we were glad that we could take care of them for her. I do not think I have ever seen a more grateful person in my life. Her attitude and amazement at our love for her children made every snotty tissue, every strained muscle, worth while.
One thing about Friendship: it's a ministry. It becomes awkward at times to try to communicate the love of Jesus to these folks, when we've been told explicitly not to mention church or religious subjects to them. It was all I could do to keep from telling Mama today that when we show love to her and her children, we are doing what God does for her--that He loves her, even when she is crying and doing the things that should be making Him unhappy with her. He never abandons her, He never stops loving her. We can't tell her, so I guess we'll just have to keep showing her how much God loves her by the way we care for her children. What a wonderful experience, to be a part of this ministry.
Good night to all, and God bless.
We had a couple of cute little Egyptian children today, "Ramses" and "Cleopatra". (I hope I don't need to tell you that those are NOT their real names.) They were first-timers. Ramses is around 2, maybe 2.5, and Cleo is close to, if not already, a year. Their mom was insistent that they be kept together, not separated. Ram wreaked havoc in the infant's room while his sister Cleo threw a tantrum fully befitting her royal name. I moved across the hall with the two in tow, into the toddler room (which was in the midst of the "Mommy's gone--I'm scared and mad" crying fit).
Cleo kept up her tantrum for almost the entire two hours she was with us. She did let me rock her, though, and she settled down somewhat when I put her in a stroller and pushed her around a little. Ram enjoyed the toys in the room and showed the typical Middle Eastern mathematical superiority as he recognized and named the shapes before putting them into the "shape-it" ball. He also let the women in the room know that HE didn't have to do what they told him to do, he was above their rule. I've seen this before with little guys like him--it always amuses me. However, he did consent to "fix" the slide after he turned it over--I told him, "Ram, fix it." He attempted to stare me down, but after he found out that was impossible, he turned the slide right-side up again.
What really touched me and meant so much to me this morning was his mama's attitude when she came back to pick the children up. She was without a doubt, one of the most precious women I have met in my two years of Friendship. She truly seemed so thankful to us for taking care of her children. She thanked me over and over. She asked if Cleo had cried all morning. I truthfully told her yes, but that she seemed to be more angry than sad. Then she asked me what she could do next week. I told her to come back and bring her children back. She seemed surprised that we would keep Cleo with all her crying. I told her we LOVED the children, that it was all right with us if they cried. We tried to help them stop crying and be content, but we would NOT stop keeping them just because of their tears. I asked her (Mama) if she had fun this morning. She replied that yes, she had. I then asked her if she had learned any English--I saw that she had signed up for the ESL class--and she replied yes, lots. Then I told her that absolutely she should bring the children back, that (I repeated) we loved them and we were glad that we could take care of them for her. I do not think I have ever seen a more grateful person in my life. Her attitude and amazement at our love for her children made every snotty tissue, every strained muscle, worth while.
One thing about Friendship: it's a ministry. It becomes awkward at times to try to communicate the love of Jesus to these folks, when we've been told explicitly not to mention church or religious subjects to them. It was all I could do to keep from telling Mama today that when we show love to her and her children, we are doing what God does for her--that He loves her, even when she is crying and doing the things that should be making Him unhappy with her. He never abandons her, He never stops loving her. We can't tell her, so I guess we'll just have to keep showing her how much God loves her by the way we care for her children. What a wonderful experience, to be a part of this ministry.
Good night to all, and God bless.
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
Silver Sneakers news
We won't be having class this week because our teacher is attending a conference in Indianapolis. If we were, I seriously considered setting up a "memorial chair" in the room on Wednesday in memory of one of our members.
We had been missing Mrs P in class the last week. She was a dear, dear lady who attempted to keep up with all we did, working so very hard. She had just "graduated" from the pink weights (1 lb barbells) to the purple ones (2 lb), and she was so proud of her accomplishment. Another feat that made her rightfully proud was that she could do our "squats" (go from a sitting to a standing position) without holding on to anything! That might not seem much to you, but for an 87-year-old woman who walked with a cane, it was a true feat!
We questioned our teacher about Mrs P--had she been at Cardome when he taught out there? He wasn't sure, but he thought he remembered seeing her. I knew she was a little bit "down" since her daughter had moved out of state, so I figured we'd just give her a few days to perk up and come back with us.
Monday, when I was doing a volunteer stint at the hospital, I saw a woman with the same name listed as a patient. Then while doing rounds with the beverage cart, I spied the out-of-state daughter in the ICU waiting room. I asked her if that was her mom's name on the list--yes, it was, and Mom had just died, not ten minutes before I came by.
I sat with daughter for a while and expressed my sympathy, all those little phrases like sweet, sweet woman, beautiful spirit, loving heart...Daughter said Mama had only been in the hospital for a few days, that she had fallen at her home and broken some bones and then just didn't recover. The family had been able to gather around her, give her love and support, express their last words...Sometimes deaths can be very beautiful home-goings.
Silver Sneakers has lost one of their true sweethearts.
We had been missing Mrs P in class the last week. She was a dear, dear lady who attempted to keep up with all we did, working so very hard. She had just "graduated" from the pink weights (1 lb barbells) to the purple ones (2 lb), and she was so proud of her accomplishment. Another feat that made her rightfully proud was that she could do our "squats" (go from a sitting to a standing position) without holding on to anything! That might not seem much to you, but for an 87-year-old woman who walked with a cane, it was a true feat!
We questioned our teacher about Mrs P--had she been at Cardome when he taught out there? He wasn't sure, but he thought he remembered seeing her. I knew she was a little bit "down" since her daughter had moved out of state, so I figured we'd just give her a few days to perk up and come back with us.
Monday, when I was doing a volunteer stint at the hospital, I saw a woman with the same name listed as a patient. Then while doing rounds with the beverage cart, I spied the out-of-state daughter in the ICU waiting room. I asked her if that was her mom's name on the list--yes, it was, and Mom had just died, not ten minutes before I came by.
I sat with daughter for a while and expressed my sympathy, all those little phrases like sweet, sweet woman, beautiful spirit, loving heart...Daughter said Mama had only been in the hospital for a few days, that she had fallen at her home and broken some bones and then just didn't recover. The family had been able to gather around her, give her love and support, express their last words...Sometimes deaths can be very beautiful home-goings.
Silver Sneakers has lost one of their true sweethearts.
Monday, September 24, 2007
My "Aha!" for the day
I was sitting here bemoaning my lack of direction in life, just being retired, nothing to do, no goals to work toward, and this verse came to me.
Philippians 4:11 Not that I speak in respect of want: for I have learned, in whatsoever state I am, therewith to be content. (KJV)
For those of you who are unfamiliar with the Bible, this verse was written by the apostle Paul. He lived a life with very little reason for contentment, as far as man can see--imprisoned, beaten, shipwrecked, chased out of town, continually moving from place to place...Yet he did his best to spread God's love to the folks he met, either through preaching or writing to them, but most of all by living a life of contentment.
So now my goal is to become content in whatsoever state I am. Kentucky is easy--retirement takes a little more effort. Love to all, and God bless
Philippians 4:11 Not that I speak in respect of want: for I have learned, in whatsoever state I am, therewith to be content. (KJV)
For those of you who are unfamiliar with the Bible, this verse was written by the apostle Paul. He lived a life with very little reason for contentment, as far as man can see--imprisoned, beaten, shipwrecked, chased out of town, continually moving from place to place...Yet he did his best to spread God's love to the folks he met, either through preaching or writing to them, but most of all by living a life of contentment.
So now my goal is to become content in whatsoever state I am. Kentucky is easy--retirement takes a little more effort. Love to all, and God bless
Sunday, September 23, 2007
Snooping
Today at breakfast, David and I were discussing goals. It all started out with a little talk about our basketball players (Big Blue, UK all the way), and in particular, Randolph Morris. Randolph Morris quit UK early to go pro, but he took a summer school course this summer. He said that if he had not gone pro, he would have graduated on time with a history major and high school teaching certification. Can you imagine having Randolph Morris for your high school history teacher? Anyway, I thought it was very interesting that he had that goal, to be a teacher, and was still pursuing it, even as an NBA player.
What were/are your goals? What do you want to be when you grow up? I am still undecided, toying between being a missionary doctor in Africa and a professional ballerina. Unfortunately, I'm not moving toward either goal right now. How about you?
What were/are your goals? What do you want to be when you grow up? I am still undecided, toying between being a missionary doctor in Africa and a professional ballerina. Unfortunately, I'm not moving toward either goal right now. How about you?
Friday, September 21, 2007
Friday Fitness Tip
I made it to the gym today for another water aerobics class. I do love those things! Today, I felt a lot stronger after I got out of the pool (wasn't crashing in to stuff in the locker room) than I did on Tuesday, so I stuck around for the 11 Silver Sneakers' class. That is such a fun class, because Chris (the teacher) is such a great target! (That's what happens when you get all those women old enough to be the mama in a class with a young, single man.)
We love to tease him about his dates (or lack there of). Last Friday he made the HUGE mistake of telling us he had a blind double date that night. Of course, we gave him NO peace on Wednesday until he revealed some of the details of the outing. Poor guy, when he is embarrassed, he blushes, and since he has a shaved head, we can all tell. I don't think it was a huge success, though, because today when I asked him how the date had gone, he said, "Let's just say it was nothing to write home about."
So NOW we are teasing him about going to a convention next week in Indianapolis. We were disappointed that he wouldn't tell us where he would be staying--one of the "mama's" suggested we ought to show up there next Wednesday, in our work-out gear! That's right, no classes next Wednesday or Friday. I know what that's going to mean--we are going to be absolutely exhausted when classes resume the next week. (Sort of like I am today--David found me sleeping on the couch when he came in from work.)
Love to all, and God bless.
PS: Dummy that I am, I just realized I forgot to leave a tip! (Just like in a restaurant) Here's my tip--shop around until you find a fitness class that you truly enjoy. Then it won't be such a chore to go!
We love to tease him about his dates (or lack there of). Last Friday he made the HUGE mistake of telling us he had a blind double date that night. Of course, we gave him NO peace on Wednesday until he revealed some of the details of the outing. Poor guy, when he is embarrassed, he blushes, and since he has a shaved head, we can all tell. I don't think it was a huge success, though, because today when I asked him how the date had gone, he said, "Let's just say it was nothing to write home about."
So NOW we are teasing him about going to a convention next week in Indianapolis. We were disappointed that he wouldn't tell us where he would be staying--one of the "mama's" suggested we ought to show up there next Wednesday, in our work-out gear! That's right, no classes next Wednesday or Friday. I know what that's going to mean--we are going to be absolutely exhausted when classes resume the next week. (Sort of like I am today--David found me sleeping on the couch when he came in from work.)
Love to all, and God bless.
PS: Dummy that I am, I just realized I forgot to leave a tip! (Just like in a restaurant) Here's my tip--shop around until you find a fitness class that you truly enjoy. Then it won't be such a chore to go!
Thursday, September 20, 2007
If it's Thursday, it must be Friendship!
Thursday it is, and Friendship it was! Today found us with four workers and five babies--wait, it seemed like more than that. Chatty Cathy and I spent the morning "bonding", once she realized her mama wasn't coming back right away. Also in attendance were the Emperor Toshinana, Jackie Chan, Manaca previously known as Hannah (wrong name on her back, right name on her diaper bag), and the new guy, that I've decided I'll name Ishbull (forgot his real name already--I did remember it. I think I'll just leave it Ishbull for now.). Once again, we had a blast, although there were moments, mind you, when some of our charges were unhappy.
Across the hall, the toddlers spent the better part of the morning letting their workers know that they were, as the baby dinosaur used to say, "NOT the mama!" A couple of the little ladies ended up taking many a stroller ride, up and down the hallway, while the kids who weren't crying decided to have snack twice, once on schedule, and once because Miss Muffet got hungry again. The "board meeting" must have run a little long the second time, because Alistair just conked out on the table. He was still asleep when his mama showed up to pick him up. Like I said once before, if my smart kids would ever show me how to do it, I'd post a picture of Alistair for you!
I hope you're enjoying your week, too. Love to all, and God bless.
Across the hall, the toddlers spent the better part of the morning letting their workers know that they were, as the baby dinosaur used to say, "NOT the mama!" A couple of the little ladies ended up taking many a stroller ride, up and down the hallway, while the kids who weren't crying decided to have snack twice, once on schedule, and once because Miss Muffet got hungry again. The "board meeting" must have run a little long the second time, because Alistair just conked out on the table. He was still asleep when his mama showed up to pick him up. Like I said once before, if my smart kids would ever show me how to do it, I'd post a picture of Alistair for you!
I hope you're enjoying your week, too. Love to all, and God bless.
Monday, September 17, 2007
Granny's Stuff
This was one of the rare days recently when I had no commitments. You would think once a person retired, that would be the case everyday, but not so--tomorrow, for instance, I have three things on my calendar already, with a fourth "possible". Anyway, while I was downstairs doing laundry, I had the urge to start going through some of the boxes of "stuff" that are stored down there.
What did I find? a person might ask, especially if they cared. Well, I found a cathedral window quilt kit, numerous squares completed, extra fabric ready to be made into squares...Of course, I have no idea how to do that, but I guess I could learn. I found squares of polyester fabric pinned together, possibly in the process of becoming another quilt...I found well-worn cookie sheets, cake pans, a cooling rack that I grabbed, a nice-looking mixer that I set aside, an angel-food cake pan (I held on to that, too)...
In a plastic sack, I found a refrigerator door's worth of magnets, from Canada to Monticello, Branson to Dollywood, patriotic, Easter, Christmas, handcrafted, purchased at craft fairs...What to do with them? I have a refrigerator door (plus the two visible sides) with more than enough magnets now! I will probably give the one that says "Ann" to my little Sasquatch for HER refrigerator and allow her sister to go through and pick one of her own. Then I'll just stick the others back into the bag and tuck them away, I guess--it's too hard to throw them away, when a person remembers seeing them every day for years.
Another sack (well, more than one, actually) was full of note cards, Christmas cards, valentines, note paper...I found two envelopes with the names of my nephews written up in the corner where the stamp would go and small heart stickers down in the opposite corner. After a little rummaging, I found valentines the size of the envelopes and figured out the mystery. Granny had purchased the valentines for the boys and then misplaced them before mailing them. I'll probably send them on to their daddy, for him to do with as he sees fit. Also in the valentine pile were some that had been addressed to friends at Senior Citizens. I don't know who Shorty was, whether Shorty was a he or a she, but Shorty certainly would have received a bunch of valentines, if they had actually made it to the center! One was addressed to Shorty from the Three Gals. I also don't know who the Three Gals were, but apparently they were a trio that others would have known. With the valentines were a number of addressed and sealed Christmas cards. I discarded the ones addressed to folks who I know are no longer in the land of the living, but I have the others ready to give to a friend who works at the center. She can decide what to do with them.
And there were the scraps of everyday life that were so hard to go through--notes about when the "judges" were on TV, grocery lists, a little note with two words, Lou (short for Louisville) and St. Louis...I think I can guess that was a time Granny was missing her boy and knew that she would need to fly from Louisville to St. Louis, if she were to see him. Beside the note was a quick sketch of some mountains and trees. That little scrap will go to my Little Brother, along with the valentines for his sons.
What does one do with the flotsam and jetsam of another person's life? It seems so unthinking to just toss it, all the notes they received, all the cards, the letters, the pictures of folks I don't even know...I'm open to suggestions.
I'm back to the boxes. Love to all, and God bless.
What did I find? a person might ask, especially if they cared. Well, I found a cathedral window quilt kit, numerous squares completed, extra fabric ready to be made into squares...Of course, I have no idea how to do that, but I guess I could learn. I found squares of polyester fabric pinned together, possibly in the process of becoming another quilt...I found well-worn cookie sheets, cake pans, a cooling rack that I grabbed, a nice-looking mixer that I set aside, an angel-food cake pan (I held on to that, too)...
In a plastic sack, I found a refrigerator door's worth of magnets, from Canada to Monticello, Branson to Dollywood, patriotic, Easter, Christmas, handcrafted, purchased at craft fairs...What to do with them? I have a refrigerator door (plus the two visible sides) with more than enough magnets now! I will probably give the one that says "Ann" to my little Sasquatch for HER refrigerator and allow her sister to go through and pick one of her own. Then I'll just stick the others back into the bag and tuck them away, I guess--it's too hard to throw them away, when a person remembers seeing them every day for years.
Another sack (well, more than one, actually) was full of note cards, Christmas cards, valentines, note paper...I found two envelopes with the names of my nephews written up in the corner where the stamp would go and small heart stickers down in the opposite corner. After a little rummaging, I found valentines the size of the envelopes and figured out the mystery. Granny had purchased the valentines for the boys and then misplaced them before mailing them. I'll probably send them on to their daddy, for him to do with as he sees fit. Also in the valentine pile were some that had been addressed to friends at Senior Citizens. I don't know who Shorty was, whether Shorty was a he or a she, but Shorty certainly would have received a bunch of valentines, if they had actually made it to the center! One was addressed to Shorty from the Three Gals. I also don't know who the Three Gals were, but apparently they were a trio that others would have known. With the valentines were a number of addressed and sealed Christmas cards. I discarded the ones addressed to folks who I know are no longer in the land of the living, but I have the others ready to give to a friend who works at the center. She can decide what to do with them.
And there were the scraps of everyday life that were so hard to go through--notes about when the "judges" were on TV, grocery lists, a little note with two words, Lou (short for Louisville) and St. Louis...I think I can guess that was a time Granny was missing her boy and knew that she would need to fly from Louisville to St. Louis, if she were to see him. Beside the note was a quick sketch of some mountains and trees. That little scrap will go to my Little Brother, along with the valentines for his sons.
What does one do with the flotsam and jetsam of another person's life? It seems so unthinking to just toss it, all the notes they received, all the cards, the letters, the pictures of folks I don't even know...I'm open to suggestions.
I'm back to the boxes. Love to all, and God bless.
Sunday, September 16, 2007
Hello, Friends!
I just learned at lunch today that there are more readers for my blog than I knew of--that was exciting news!
David and I have a regular date every Sunday. It's an important part of our Sunday routine. We get up, eat breakfast, read the paper (if there's time), and head out for church in order to warm up with the choir before the 9:00 church service. Next we stick around for Bible study (Sunday School) and head home for a few minutes' break.
Then comes one of our favorite parts of the week--we go to the Plum Tree (a wonderful local Chinese restaurant). We tried to figure out several times how many years we have been doing this (eating at the Plum Tree). I guess it depends on how many years the Plum Tree has been in Georgetown, doesn't it! We do love that place. I have told friends of mine that my children think Sunday dinner includes rice and smells like soy sauce, and I do believe they think that.
First of all, the food at the Plum Tree is terrific. Yes, it's a buffet, but not your normal steam-table Chinese buffet. At the Plum Tree, the food is cooked in small quantities and placed in chafing dishes. Either the manager or wait staff is always checking the buffet to make sure there is enough food in the dishes, and more is prepared as needed. You can tell from the quality of the food that it is NOT cooked in a huge amount and kept warm back in the kitchen--no, indeed. It is prepared fresh as needed. The variety is very good. There are always chicken, seafood, and beef dishes, sometimes several of each. Yes, there is the standard sweet-and-sour dish, but also a fantastic hot, spicy shrimp dish and a chicken dish (General Tso) that is so great David chooses to eat it for dessert (well, his third helping, anyway). The egg rolls are the epitome of all the egg rolls we have ever eaten, and our family's standard for onion rings is the quality of the tempura Tron fixes--Tron's tempura onion rings are the world's best.
Then a person has to consider the atmosphere at the Plum Tree. It is a family restaurant, for sure. Our Plum Tree family consists of customers we have watched grow from infants to teenagers, and teenagers we have watched come back with their own infants! There are also dear friends we have met there and enjoy seeing each week. We know each other's hobbies, grandchildren (Nelda has a tableful now), car preferences (John loves his Camry station wagon), musical preferences...and these are folks we only see on Sundays!
But my favorite part of the Plum Tree experience is spending time with the staff. We do love these people. Currently we have the pleasure of regularly visiting with Lily (a nursing student), Xinging (a research chemist), Frances (the mother of former students), Yen (the owner/manager), Tron (the chef), Madison (Tron's 4-year-old granddaughter who calls David Papaw), Ding (Xinging's son, a computer science student at EKU)...plus numerous others who appear and disappear from the kitchen. We've shared birthday cakes (we had a piece of Tron's pineapple-upside down cake today), successes (Lily's acceptance into and good progress in nursing school), recovery from accidents (Xinging's recovery from a broken arm, Frances' accident with her motorbike), sickness (Tron's open-heart surgery, Ginger's glaucoma), weddings (Tron's daughter, Twee, this past summer). Currently we are looking forward to Andy's (Lily's son) citizenship--he takes the test September 27. Also coming up, Sam (former Sunday-noon waiter, current student and evening waiter) will graduate from nursing school this December.
These folks have become dear, dear friends. My mother loved the Plum Tree, and the folks there loved my mother. They sincerely cared for her. When she was not with us on Sundays, they wanted to know where she was. If she was out because she was visiting, that was fine--just tell her they missed her. But if she were sick, pretty soon Tron would be at the table with a bagged order of cashew chicken and fried rice for us to take to her--no charge. When Mom was no longer able to come to lunch with us, they even visited her at her nursing home. When she died, they grieved, just as we had grieved when Yen's mother died several years before.
If you are ever in Georgetown and hungry, be sure and call me. We'll direct you to the Plum Tree, the best restaurant in this area (not just this town) and probably be more than willing to join you for a meal!
Good night to all, and God bless.
David and I have a regular date every Sunday. It's an important part of our Sunday routine. We get up, eat breakfast, read the paper (if there's time), and head out for church in order to warm up with the choir before the 9:00 church service. Next we stick around for Bible study (Sunday School) and head home for a few minutes' break.
Then comes one of our favorite parts of the week--we go to the Plum Tree (a wonderful local Chinese restaurant). We tried to figure out several times how many years we have been doing this (eating at the Plum Tree). I guess it depends on how many years the Plum Tree has been in Georgetown, doesn't it! We do love that place. I have told friends of mine that my children think Sunday dinner includes rice and smells like soy sauce, and I do believe they think that.
First of all, the food at the Plum Tree is terrific. Yes, it's a buffet, but not your normal steam-table Chinese buffet. At the Plum Tree, the food is cooked in small quantities and placed in chafing dishes. Either the manager or wait staff is always checking the buffet to make sure there is enough food in the dishes, and more is prepared as needed. You can tell from the quality of the food that it is NOT cooked in a huge amount and kept warm back in the kitchen--no, indeed. It is prepared fresh as needed. The variety is very good. There are always chicken, seafood, and beef dishes, sometimes several of each. Yes, there is the standard sweet-and-sour dish, but also a fantastic hot, spicy shrimp dish and a chicken dish (General Tso) that is so great David chooses to eat it for dessert (well, his third helping, anyway). The egg rolls are the epitome of all the egg rolls we have ever eaten, and our family's standard for onion rings is the quality of the tempura Tron fixes--Tron's tempura onion rings are the world's best.
Then a person has to consider the atmosphere at the Plum Tree. It is a family restaurant, for sure. Our Plum Tree family consists of customers we have watched grow from infants to teenagers, and teenagers we have watched come back with their own infants! There are also dear friends we have met there and enjoy seeing each week. We know each other's hobbies, grandchildren (Nelda has a tableful now), car preferences (John loves his Camry station wagon), musical preferences...and these are folks we only see on Sundays!
But my favorite part of the Plum Tree experience is spending time with the staff. We do love these people. Currently we have the pleasure of regularly visiting with Lily (a nursing student), Xinging (a research chemist), Frances (the mother of former students), Yen (the owner/manager), Tron (the chef), Madison (Tron's 4-year-old granddaughter who calls David Papaw), Ding (Xinging's son, a computer science student at EKU)...plus numerous others who appear and disappear from the kitchen. We've shared birthday cakes (we had a piece of Tron's pineapple-upside down cake today), successes (Lily's acceptance into and good progress in nursing school), recovery from accidents (Xinging's recovery from a broken arm, Frances' accident with her motorbike), sickness (Tron's open-heart surgery, Ginger's glaucoma), weddings (Tron's daughter, Twee, this past summer). Currently we are looking forward to Andy's (Lily's son) citizenship--he takes the test September 27. Also coming up, Sam (former Sunday-noon waiter, current student and evening waiter) will graduate from nursing school this December.
These folks have become dear, dear friends. My mother loved the Plum Tree, and the folks there loved my mother. They sincerely cared for her. When she was not with us on Sundays, they wanted to know where she was. If she was out because she was visiting, that was fine--just tell her they missed her. But if she were sick, pretty soon Tron would be at the table with a bagged order of cashew chicken and fried rice for us to take to her--no charge. When Mom was no longer able to come to lunch with us, they even visited her at her nursing home. When she died, they grieved, just as we had grieved when Yen's mother died several years before.
If you are ever in Georgetown and hungry, be sure and call me. We'll direct you to the Plum Tree, the best restaurant in this area (not just this town) and probably be more than willing to join you for a meal!
Good night to all, and God bless.
Wednesday, September 12, 2007
It's Official!
It's official, folks--I've seen it with my own two eyes. I am now the granny of a TODDLER!!! Way to go, Fia! See for yourselves, you scoffers--http://thebrownbabyblog.blogspot.com/
Love to all, and God bless!
Love to all, and God bless!
Tuesday, September 04, 2007
You know, I may turn into a prune!
Today when I headed out to the Pavilion for water aerobics, I'm not sure I knew how long I would be there! Usually I go at 9 (or a few minutes thereafter--promptness that early in the day is not one of my virtues!) and am out, dressed and on to other things by 10:15 or so. Today when the 9:00 class ended, a couple of us (new friend Margaret and I) decided to stay around for the first session of the Silver Splash water aerobics class, which was to start at 11. In the hour in between, Maggie, Emma and I floated around the lazy river a while and discussed whether or not Emma would stay for the later class. Her back was bothering her, so she opted to get dressed and watch from the observation deck. I also got to explore parts of the pool I hadn't yet tried while waiting for the later class, and even worked up the courage to get into the lap pool for a few minutes. Everyone was right, it IS colder than the exercise pool, so I didn't stay there long. At 11, Libby, Bonnie, and Bill--yes, a man!--joined us while we waited for Dawn (the teacher) to show up.
Silver Splash is going to be a good program, I think, with emphasis on areas where I need more work (balance and coordination). It's more low-key aerobic stuff, more choreographed, even with music. That's fun, and the different movements are challenging to learn, at least right now. It's a much quieter and less crowded class, since there are currently only five folks compared to the 20-25 who ordinarily make up the 9:00 class. The teacher reminded us to bring water the next time--I just laughed at that, since we never take water to the 9:00 class. But she was RIGHT, I did notice that I got thirsty during the second class. I won't forget my water bottle next time. I also noticed that besides being shriveled up and water-logged, I was really tired at the end of the second class.
I was trekking out to the car with my wet stuff when Emma invited me to go to lunch with Maggie and her. At first I said no, but then second thought and common sense kicked in--I needed to eat pretty quickly, and if I went home first, I'd probably not do that, so I decided to go. We had a really nice meal at Cracker Barrel, after which I felt re-energized (but not enough to go back to K-Mart with the other two ladies! As I told the cashier at CB, after spending $94.00 there last week, I didn't think our budget needed me going back again!). All in all, a good way to spend the morning. Anyone who is considering a water aerobics class, take it from me--it's worth every penny, every minute struggling into and out of wet bathing suits, and every pruney shrivel!
Good night, and God bless!
Silver Splash is going to be a good program, I think, with emphasis on areas where I need more work (balance and coordination). It's more low-key aerobic stuff, more choreographed, even with music. That's fun, and the different movements are challenging to learn, at least right now. It's a much quieter and less crowded class, since there are currently only five folks compared to the 20-25 who ordinarily make up the 9:00 class. The teacher reminded us to bring water the next time--I just laughed at that, since we never take water to the 9:00 class. But she was RIGHT, I did notice that I got thirsty during the second class. I won't forget my water bottle next time. I also noticed that besides being shriveled up and water-logged, I was really tired at the end of the second class.
I was trekking out to the car with my wet stuff when Emma invited me to go to lunch with Maggie and her. At first I said no, but then second thought and common sense kicked in--I needed to eat pretty quickly, and if I went home first, I'd probably not do that, so I decided to go. We had a really nice meal at Cracker Barrel, after which I felt re-energized (but not enough to go back to K-Mart with the other two ladies! As I told the cashier at CB, after spending $94.00 there last week, I didn't think our budget needed me going back again!). All in all, a good way to spend the morning. Anyone who is considering a water aerobics class, take it from me--it's worth every penny, every minute struggling into and out of wet bathing suits, and every pruney shrivel!
Good night, and God bless!
Friday, August 31, 2007
The princess turned one. The royal family celebrated!
Last Friday began a wonderful weekend. On Friday evening, we drove to Corbin to see David's family, "The Music People". They were having one of their pickins. The house was stuffed with folks--so many that it was difficult to get into the room where the music was happening. Instead, I chose to stay in the room with the food, and David took RuRu's place on the couch with the little girls. It was Scooby Doo and hopefully a nap for him, but the nap didn't happen--too many littles. Ruth and I had a pretty quick, good conversation, I chatted with Big John for a while, I touched bases with Angie, howdied Chuck and others...we got out of there pretty quickly, actually, maybe only a couple of hours. That sure beats the nights we've been down there and stayed until what David considers "2:00AM" (midnight, when we actually left, but 2 when we got home).
Saturday, we journeyed on to Chattanooga to help Miss Fia celebrate her first birthday. That was a grand, grand time, let me tell you! David and I got to play with her quite a while before other folks started arriving She is changing so much! I think she remembers us, though, which I treasure, since we don't get to see her that often. The queen says that Princess Fia will think of us as the grandparents who play with her on the floor, and that we do, for sure. We watched her eat birthday cake and a scoop of chocolate ice cream, all without utensils, of course--and did she ever make a mess! The only time she fussed was when her hand got cold from the ice cream she was holding. I found the pair of sunglasses that had traveled home with us after vacation and put them on her to avoid food in the eyes. She ended up taking a bath in the church sink before present-opening took place. We got her dressed again in her leotard and tutu, too cute for words (tutus have a way of sliding down below the belly but hanging up on the biscuits in the back). Oh, I could keep boring you with what transpired that day, but without pictures, you won't get the whole effect, so enough of that.
The princess conked out before we finished cleaning up after the party and stayed asleep for a while after she got home. Then it was off to a sub shop for supper, where she entertained us with her impression of a walrus with dill pickle tusks. Once again, you would have had to see it--and we couldn't get the cameras out before the pickle hit the floor. That child went through four pickles. The royal food of choice this season appears to be anything sour!
The next morning, I fed her royal majesty and kept most of the food going into her rather than on her (an accomplishment of which I am proud). Then she was dressed in her lovely new black, red, and white birthday dress with its jeweled red slippers, and she and the king and queen left for Sunday School. She and her friend Matthew entertained us after church with a duet on the piano--that delighted David, as he had been wanting to see his grand baby at the baby grand. This child not only plays the piano, she also sings! (Plus she is working on dancing, both hula and ballet, which are developing rather slowly since she isn't walking yet.) As soon as she realized she was being recorded, she scooted down off the bench and crawled under the piano.
Tomorrow and Sunday, her Auntie, Uncle Bubba, and Uncle RuRu will be in Chattanooga to continue the celebration. We wish we could be there, too, but too many chefs spoil a pot, as we all know, and for a fact, too many relatives spoil a grandchild! Happy birthday, Princess Fia. We all love you very much!
Good night to all, and God bless.
Saturday, we journeyed on to Chattanooga to help Miss Fia celebrate her first birthday. That was a grand, grand time, let me tell you! David and I got to play with her quite a while before other folks started arriving She is changing so much! I think she remembers us, though, which I treasure, since we don't get to see her that often. The queen says that Princess Fia will think of us as the grandparents who play with her on the floor, and that we do, for sure. We watched her eat birthday cake and a scoop of chocolate ice cream, all without utensils, of course--and did she ever make a mess! The only time she fussed was when her hand got cold from the ice cream she was holding. I found the pair of sunglasses that had traveled home with us after vacation and put them on her to avoid food in the eyes. She ended up taking a bath in the church sink before present-opening took place. We got her dressed again in her leotard and tutu, too cute for words (tutus have a way of sliding down below the belly but hanging up on the biscuits in the back). Oh, I could keep boring you with what transpired that day, but without pictures, you won't get the whole effect, so enough of that.
The princess conked out before we finished cleaning up after the party and stayed asleep for a while after she got home. Then it was off to a sub shop for supper, where she entertained us with her impression of a walrus with dill pickle tusks. Once again, you would have had to see it--and we couldn't get the cameras out before the pickle hit the floor. That child went through four pickles. The royal food of choice this season appears to be anything sour!
The next morning, I fed her royal majesty and kept most of the food going into her rather than on her (an accomplishment of which I am proud). Then she was dressed in her lovely new black, red, and white birthday dress with its jeweled red slippers, and she and the king and queen left for Sunday School. She and her friend Matthew entertained us after church with a duet on the piano--that delighted David, as he had been wanting to see his grand baby at the baby grand. This child not only plays the piano, she also sings! (Plus she is working on dancing, both hula and ballet, which are developing rather slowly since she isn't walking yet.) As soon as she realized she was being recorded, she scooted down off the bench and crawled under the piano.
Tomorrow and Sunday, her Auntie, Uncle Bubba, and Uncle RuRu will be in Chattanooga to continue the celebration. We wish we could be there, too, but too many chefs spoil a pot, as we all know, and for a fact, too many relatives spoil a grandchild! Happy birthday, Princess Fia. We all love you very much!
Good night to all, and God bless.
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
Another Kettle of Fish to Fry
Actually, it isn't fish but rather cakes, and no, I'm not frying them.
Tonight to answer a plea for help, I went out to the Center for Lifelong Learning here in our county to help a friend with her ESL classes. According to said friend, she had 22 students on Monday night, at many different levels of English proficiency. She wanted me to work with one particular student, a young man who was attempting some college classes through our local car manufacturer. He could understand all his classes, was able to do the coursework, but was unable to write. He has an amazing English vocabulary, but a great deal of difficulty in constructing even the simplest of sentences. My job, if I chose to accept it (shades of Mission Impossible!), would be to help him master at least simple sentence structure.
It turned out that this young gentleman was occupied all evening tonight with testing. That left me at loose ends, until my friend invited me to observe in her classroom. She had five students who were working on writing compositions in English. One of the women, a native of Mexico City, was writing some relatively elaborate sentences, albeit with some awkward wording, about her job as a fry-cook at McDonald's. I asked her what she had done for her "work" in Mexico City--turned out she was an accountant! Can you imagine a CPA in this country being content doing minimum-wage work in another country? Granted, her English is limited, and her accounting skills would probably not transfer well, due to difference in laws, but the brain that mastered accounting is surely capable of doing something more than flipping burgers!
I wonder how many of our burger-flippers are accountants. I'm sure it would surprise us to find out what these workers have done in the past. Folks from other countries doing minimum-wage work here are not respected--Americans don't take the time to get to know them as anything other than the man who buses the tables, or the woman who shows them to their seat. One of our foreign wait-staff friends has a post-graduate degree in computer programming and is completing a fast-track course to become an RN. Another one has worked as a teacher of English in her native country and is also in an RN program, while working as a temp at the local car factory! A third is a research chemist at the local university! When I tell my friends at church and other places about people like this, they are always amazed. It's as if they don't expect these people to be able to do anything more than clear off a table or take an order.
One of the women I met tonight was from the Congo, by way of Gabon. Currently she is working as a housekeeper at the local college. I asked her to write a sentence or two telling me what she would be doing at home in Gabon. She told me that she loved to cook, and that she would probably be making cakes to sell in front of her house the next morning. She told me that it was difficult to make cakes in Gabon, since she didn't have an oven. I asked her how in the world could she make a cake without an oven! She told me she cooked them in a bowl, on a barbecue. Then it dawned on me that we had differing images of "cake". I quickly sketched something that looked like a layer cake and told her that was what I was thinking of. She then drew a barbecue grill, coals inside, with a bowl on top, and a layer of oil in the bowl, so that she could cook the beignets. (And yes, blogger, I know that's spelled wrong--) Aha, French woman! Those fine, donut-type pastries that are so popular in the French quarter of New Orleans! At last we were communicating! And she did manage to get a pretty good sentence or two out of that!
What I want you to learn from my evening is this: Take the time to meet a foreigner in this country. Don't be concerned with their immigration status. Try to find out what they did when they were in their home land. Think of them as more than a servant--think of them as another human being who is definitely worth your time to know! Love to all, good night, and God bless!
PS Anyone who is looking for an update on Co--she is doing very well, thank you. Her mom had a delightful story for me yesterday about Co trying to help in the kitchen, but I'm going to save that for her to share.
PPS My friend did sucker me into coming back next week. I don't know how long I'll be able to help, but I guess I can give her a couple or three hours!
Tonight to answer a plea for help, I went out to the Center for Lifelong Learning here in our county to help a friend with her ESL classes. According to said friend, she had 22 students on Monday night, at many different levels of English proficiency. She wanted me to work with one particular student, a young man who was attempting some college classes through our local car manufacturer. He could understand all his classes, was able to do the coursework, but was unable to write. He has an amazing English vocabulary, but a great deal of difficulty in constructing even the simplest of sentences. My job, if I chose to accept it (shades of Mission Impossible!), would be to help him master at least simple sentence structure.
It turned out that this young gentleman was occupied all evening tonight with testing. That left me at loose ends, until my friend invited me to observe in her classroom. She had five students who were working on writing compositions in English. One of the women, a native of Mexico City, was writing some relatively elaborate sentences, albeit with some awkward wording, about her job as a fry-cook at McDonald's. I asked her what she had done for her "work" in Mexico City--turned out she was an accountant! Can you imagine a CPA in this country being content doing minimum-wage work in another country? Granted, her English is limited, and her accounting skills would probably not transfer well, due to difference in laws, but the brain that mastered accounting is surely capable of doing something more than flipping burgers!
I wonder how many of our burger-flippers are accountants. I'm sure it would surprise us to find out what these workers have done in the past. Folks from other countries doing minimum-wage work here are not respected--Americans don't take the time to get to know them as anything other than the man who buses the tables, or the woman who shows them to their seat. One of our foreign wait-staff friends has a post-graduate degree in computer programming and is completing a fast-track course to become an RN. Another one has worked as a teacher of English in her native country and is also in an RN program, while working as a temp at the local car factory! A third is a research chemist at the local university! When I tell my friends at church and other places about people like this, they are always amazed. It's as if they don't expect these people to be able to do anything more than clear off a table or take an order.
One of the women I met tonight was from the Congo, by way of Gabon. Currently she is working as a housekeeper at the local college. I asked her to write a sentence or two telling me what she would be doing at home in Gabon. She told me that she loved to cook, and that she would probably be making cakes to sell in front of her house the next morning. She told me that it was difficult to make cakes in Gabon, since she didn't have an oven. I asked her how in the world could she make a cake without an oven! She told me she cooked them in a bowl, on a barbecue. Then it dawned on me that we had differing images of "cake". I quickly sketched something that looked like a layer cake and told her that was what I was thinking of. She then drew a barbecue grill, coals inside, with a bowl on top, and a layer of oil in the bowl, so that she could cook the beignets. (And yes, blogger, I know that's spelled wrong--) Aha, French woman! Those fine, donut-type pastries that are so popular in the French quarter of New Orleans! At last we were communicating! And she did manage to get a pretty good sentence or two out of that!
What I want you to learn from my evening is this: Take the time to meet a foreigner in this country. Don't be concerned with their immigration status. Try to find out what they did when they were in their home land. Think of them as more than a servant--think of them as another human being who is definitely worth your time to know! Love to all, good night, and God bless!
PS Anyone who is looking for an update on Co--she is doing very well, thank you. Her mom had a delightful story for me yesterday about Co trying to help in the kitchen, but I'm going to save that for her to share.
PPS My friend did sucker me into coming back next week. I don't know how long I'll be able to help, but I guess I can give her a couple or three hours!
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