Dream on...

Those of you who were reading my blog a year ago may remember that I don't make New Year's resolutions because I never keep them and that makes me feel the mild guilt(s) of being somewhat of a failure as far as resolutions go.  I don't need reminders of things that I don't accomplish. My self-reminders play inside my head. That's enough. Now... all of this has me thinking. Why not switch from promises that you know you probably will not be able to keep, to focus on dreams instead? There is an important difference between a promise to give up chocolate covered doughnuts and a dream to... ... well,... the possibilities are endless. Why not start this new year with a written list of dreams you plan to work on making come true --even if it is only to take a step or two in that direction?  All of this is related to the entire notion of the self-fulfilling prophecy...if you think it will happen, it will happen...you somehow make it happen.  Each step you make may bring you a little closer to the realization of any one or of all those dreams. I heard someone say that he believes that people are only given dreams that are possible for them to make come true -- to realize  -- that dreams are within reach or -- you wouldn't have them. I like that idea.

Want to join me in making a list that you will open on New Year's Day 2017 to see how much closer you are to making your dreams come true? I am going to limit my list to three dreams -- if I can think of that many.  Remember -- dreams are a step beyond a Bucket list.  As I write all of this I am wondering to myself why it is that we Boomers don't seem to talk very often about dreams? I don't want to think that we ever stop dreaming. Do you?

Perhaps the secret to a potential success is in writing the dreams down.  Remember -- you don't have to share any of this with another person; it is just about you.  We are allowed to dream.... When we retire or are close to that point, it doesn't mean that we give up who we are. It doesn't mean that we stop having dreams and give up working toward realizing them. It is a time of new beginnings. It's a time to look and to move forward - maybe to do something we always wanted to do  -- or -- to learn something we never had time to learn before.  We are not what we used to do, but rather what we are doing now and plan to do/to become.

So -- Begin....  By January 1, 2017 I will:   (Go ahead ... write.... Put the list in an envelope and place it in with your holiday decorations or somewhere special, so that you will find it in time to open one year from tomorrow. It is a present to you from you.)

Happy 2016 everyone!
May it be your best year ever! May your dreams come true.... Make it happen....

Dream on...

December 24, 2015

Wishing you...

• Merry Christmas, 
• Happy Holidays, and a 
• Blessed New Year.

May there be peace on Earth.... (oh, how I wish that could be....)

An Historian, I am not...

I take my role as a grandma quite seriously and as such I believe that one of my responsibilities is to tell my grandchildren about things of the past.  You know -- the olden days.... like the 70's and even before that.  My grandson refers to these adventures into the days of yore as "olde timey". Neither he, nor my granddaughter roll their eyes when I lapse into such tales ...yet, but... I am preparing myself as I can sort of feel that coming. Anyway -- we have had several conversations about long-ago things.  In relation to these "look-backs", here's the concern of the day....  In explaining some details of life and times when I was growing up without television and including a mention of the whole black&white thing evolving eventually into color situation in both TV's and Brownie cameras, I guess I created some major confusion in the mind of my 4 year old granddaughter, who is now thoroughly convinced that prior to the mid-50's, there was no color in the world -- that TV shows lacked color because the world was black&white -- that cameras took black&white photos for the same reason. Here's the problem -- she is sort of like me when I get an idea in my mind -- sometimes it is hard to let it go. Is that tendency to hang on a bit hereditary?

To my acute frustration, I don't seem to be able to fix this.  Believe me I have tried.  It would be easier at this point to just let it go -- no harm really. Eventually she will figure it out and in the mean time?  We can just hope she doesn't bring it up in conversation... or at school... or on a college application. But -- here's an additional complication.  I am not sure that people believe me when I tell them that my Granddaughter came up with this on her own.  It seems that I may have told my own daughter one time that when Adam and Eve were expelled from the Garden of Eden, that they were banished to a small far eastern country that will remain nameless at this time.  I have absolutely no recollection of telling her this. None!  Honestly, I do not remember that at all.  I do confess to perpetrating the whole Santa Claus, Tooth Fairy, Easter Bunny "things". I totally own that.  And -- I do remember that I once told an entire English class of students that William Shakespeare sold real estate and wrote plays on the side -- in his spare time, but in all fairness... that is not entirely untrue. William Shakespeare did invest in land as a part of earning a livelihood. Honest.  Google him if you don't believe me.  

Now that I am considering all of this... I think that I may have even told my grandkids about some of their ancestors who came from Rotterdam to NYC in a schooner and then traveled cross country in a wagon to settle in nearby Clymer, New York. I do hope I remembered to mention that the wagon was pulled by mules or horses, so that they do not get an incorrect mental image of a couple traveling in a little red wagon with all their earthly possessions. If I haven't shared this story with them, I will be sure to do that at some point. Family history is interesting and sometimes important.  I remember that my Mom loved to embellish a story a little bit.  It made things more interesting. Perhaps I inherited this tendency from her. Perhaps that is an olde timey tidbit in and of itself.  Kids should know from whom they come. They can be better prepared that way or maybe understand themselves a little better at some point. Such tendencies are not the worst thing that a person could inherit. Right?  Sometimes life can use a little additional color... a black&white world is way too drab. Can we leave the black and white to the Historians? Actually they have been known to color things up a bit themselves. Oh my....

News Fatique and The T-shirt

The past couple of weeks have been especially horrific on the news front, so once again I have banned CNN, Fox News and all regional TV news shows from my home. The ban also includes newspapers and magazines, both paper and online.  I need a break sometimes. Actually -- I have been known to "tune out" for months at a time. It may be shameful to be so out of touch, but I survive very well that way. Actually I am not only sick of listening to and watching news reports, but have become, at this time, totally intolerant of all the speculation that reporters engage in. Seriously, to describe them as self-impressed is an understatement. It rankles. Many reporters and broadcasters have become major irritants -- they so like to hear themselves talk and to interrupt each other and the people they are supposedly interviewing. Their rudeness is an assault. No viewer/reader has to subject him or herself to that.  

So -- today I think I will talk about the T-shirt. 

I like T-shirts - especially the long sleeved ones.  Not only are they comfortable to wear and require no ironing, but they are sometimes really fun to read. Some make me laugh out loud. Consider: 

• Well, another day has passed and I didn't use ALGEBRA once.
• Paddle Faster! I hear banjos.
• Runs with Scissors
• If you say "GULLIBLE" slowly it sounds like "ORANGES".

Am I alone in this?  I think not.  Try Goggling "Funny T-shirts" and see what happens.  I am curious though.  What is your favorite T-shirt?  You may include in your response/comment words from T-shirts that you think are funny, but that you would never wear. 

 For instance:            I meditate.

                               I burn candles.

                               I drink green tea, and...

                               I still want to smack some people.

Who thinks of these?  I would like to meet them, shake their hands and say, "Thank You for the break from the heavy stuff".

What's on your mind?

Thanksgiving has come and gone and I am thinking that many of us have spent more than a little bit of time in gratitude for important aspects of our lives -- family and friends in particular. It's a nice time of year in many ways.  This year has been especially pleasant in that the weather has cooperated around here in lovely fashion.  Of course many of those native to NW Pennsylvania are totally convinced that because we have enjoyed a beautiful Autumn so far, we will have to pay by having snow into May or June.  We will see....  

Black Friday is over as is Small Business Saturday and Cyber Monday.  I don't know about you, but I am looking forward to just easing into the next Holiday Season now. I want to "feel" the spirit of Christmas -- sort of like a winter version of ..."stopping to smell the roses". I have the feeling that several of you might agree. Am I correct in this? What's on your mind?

And so it is that I wish you a Happy First Thursday of December.  You have three full weeks until December 25th. My hope for you is that you enjoy every single minute.  

What's going on? Part One?

Have you ever ignored things without knowing that you were doing so?  Maybe it's a form of self-preservation?  I don't know.  What I do know is that even though I try very hard to be mindful, I am excellent at ignoring what I don't want to see. I am, in fact an expert at it ... after years of experience.  

A case in point is that I have come to realize that my house is sort of "haunted". This is nothing new really -- lots of people have encounters with ghosts, spirits, unknown entities.  They just don't always talk about it.  Even as a kid I remember our house had a frequent "visitor".  Eventually I named him. I distinctly remember coming home from church one time to find the Sunday newspaper spread out all over the living room, and ... he (?) once hid a sewing project by wrapping it up in a towel and putting it in a built-in drawer in the attic.  Those are just two of the "happenings".   Further -- he/it  went to college with me and freaked out my roommate by doing such things as making the blinds go up very slowly and then pulling them down again more rapidly.  I was used to such activity.  Unfortunately she was not. (I sometimes wonder whatever happened to her.)

Anyway -- I lived for several years in my home before I allowed myself to realize that I didn't live there alone.  Other people commented on that fact before I finally admitted it to myself.  It's not scary, just interesting and sometimes -- annoying.  It all came to a head one holiday time when I had a full house.  There were taps on shoulders, pats on heads, and one more serious grabbing of a leg.  Prior to that it was just a suspicion that my grand-babies were talking to or laughing with an invisible someone/something and occasionally noticing that it was odd the way the various pets acted, etc.  I tuned it out. Anyway...when my youngest grandchild clearly stated,  "Stop tapping me on the head. I am sick of it!", it was time to get real and figure out what was going on. Her mom and I were in the same room with her --but no where near her -- and-- as a rule we are not head tappers anyway. Actually..my daughter and I had been watching my daughter-in-law being tapped repeatedly on the shoulder just prior to that.  She kept turning around thinking that someone wanted her and no one was there. She was confused and maybe a bit annoyed. My daughter and I explained that she shouldn't take it personally. Fortunately she still comes to visit.  It's all good -- nothing too scary -- seriously -- a person gets used to it.   Pictures move, coins appear, small items fly through the air, the oven occasionally starts by itself, unusual noises startle, etc.  Nothing out of the normal as far as these "things" go.

It's not nice to bother children though -- so that's when I agreed to call in ghost hunters - paranormal investigators.  An experienced team of them has been to my house and property now two times and are planning a third hunt.  (They like to come here -- lots going on.  I think they are arranging for some additional detecting equipment at the moment.) I have also had a medium here as well as a psychic. It seems that my property, especially my small barn, has a lot going on.  The house itself -- mostly just a place for entities to hang out for a little while on their way through to where ever it is that such beings go.  I find it all very interesting.  I am not sure that others do. There may be more on this and other "adventures" later...maybe.  We will see....  Anyway -- the holidays are approaching once again -- Thanksgiving is only a week away.  It will be interesting to see if the house is full , once again, with more than just my family.  If I wake up Thanksgiving morning to find my son on the couch in the living room because the guest room became a "creepy corner" during the night,  I'll know that we still have visitors.  It would be nice if they could at least help with the dishes. 

A Life Lesson

.I talk to people, so I know I am not alone in this... you learn a few lessons as you work your way through a lifetime, and one of those is to take it a little easier on yourself once in a while.

One of my cousins and I have had conversation more than once about how appalled our Mom's might be if they knew that we occasionally use paper plates -- even at holiday time... that sometimes we don't even clean every visible and not so visible place in the entire house before the family comes for a big gathering... that we, as the hostess, can relax and enjoy the party too -- the entire party.  We are not sure that our wonderful Moms always did -- enjoy the entire party that is. For one thing, they had to have been exhausted with all the advance cleaning, and making every single dish from scratch -- no shortcuts back in that day.  Think of it  -- no gravy in a jar in case of unexpected clumping, no microwave potatoes, no stuffing in a box for leftovers, no store bought much of anything  -- not to mention other "things" like --- --- no disposable diapers. I shutter to even remember ironing Oxford cloth shirts. Life was more difficult then for sure...all the way around -- especially if everything had to be perfect -- which it did - often.

Just the other day, my sister was working on a book of photographs on Shutterfly.  She was memorializing a recent family get-together. The end product is wonderful!  I love it and told her so.  She replied that it wasn't perfect, but it was going to work.  I think her words were, "Perfect is the enemy of done".  It took me a minute to get my brain around what she was saying, but she is, once again, so on the mark.  I think this is one of those life lessons.  Do the best that you have time to do. Enjoy the process, the doing.  Perfect is impossible anyway.  Yep....  

I think it may be especially important to keep this life lesson in mind - especially as we approach the holidays.  Enjoy the process.  Everything is not going to be perfect and that's okay.

Thanksgiving is two weeks from today.  Two weeks...and for those of you who create the holiday for others... Breathe.... Enjoy....

I Cry at the Parades

I pretty much have grown up in a small community in rural NW Pennsylvania.  I like it here - even in the winter. I like the people.  I like the way of life.  I like the area, the change of seasons, and I like the feel of small town America. That is why I raised my children here. That is why I stay here. 

For many years I worked with young people at the local high school.  They drove me crazy sometimes, but basically they won my heart -- over and over again.  I distinctly remember trying to sit alone in the auditorium during their assemblies, performances, ceremonies, plays... all of it.   You see the thing is -- I would cry just watching them, and I didn't really want the kids to know that I am a big softy. I never went to an event without Kleenex. I admired their courage to put themselves out there.  I admired their commitment and spirit...their many talents.  That spirit is the basis of it all -- the "feel" of small town America. It touches my heart.

Now I am fortunate enough to watch my grandchildren begin their lives here... to watch them discover what it is like to be a part of this community. My grandson went for a walk just the other day.  He told me that he stopped at the art gallery and introduced himself to the woman working there. Did I mention that he is eight?  He told me that they talked about art, that she wanted him to bring in some of his drawings.  He plans to do so.  He stopped into a couple of other places and an antique store as well.  He checked things out...was welcome every single place he went.  That's how people are here.  I think it is part of the whole "...it takes a village" thing.  He felt good about every aspect of the experience...very independent and capable.  He told me that it felt nice to get to know new people and... that he stopped in the city park on his way through -- just to dance a little bit in the gazebo there.  Imagine the joy of feeling like doing that...  Now his little sister is all about going on a walk with him.  It will be a while yet.  She is four.

I have good feelings about this town.  I have felt the "pulling together" in times of need, I have felt the support of one for another.  There is an underlying understanding that comes from sharing lives in a community like this.  You don't know everyone, but you do have a sense of being a part of the spirit of things. Off and on throughout the year there are community celebrations of various sorts.  People work hard to make it special for others. They take pride in what they do and in their community. The festivities are warm and welcoming. There is a feeling about being a part of a small town in America. It's good.  I have to mention though --  I cry at the parades.  I am thinking that some of you will "get" that.  

The Morning Shower

Did you ever notice that the morning shower is sometimes more than just good hygiene?  Only on super chilly mornings do I dread entering the shower and then only temporarily, because when that warm water hits and begins to thaw me out -- heavenly is the word that comes to mind.  It's more than pleasant smelling soap and warm water though. For me, the morning shower has become a time of inspiration.  I don't know if it is because I have figured out things in my sleep and the shower awakens my brain, or if it is something else.  I read one time that the presence of water sometimes makes inspiration come more easily. (It's like in that old movie, Laura, where the old skinny guy writes his newspaper column while sitting in the bathtub.)  I guess I care less about the why or how; it's more that the shower time is often productive in solving problems, or in getting new ideas to explore, or in thinking of new ways of doing things.  Have you had this experience?

I don't often share this with people for obvious reasons.  I mean who goes around saying, "You know what I thought of in the shower this morning?" 
Although --  odder still is the story someone told me one time about his father suddenly making a appearance while he was in the shower.  His father was deceased.  Actually I was most interested in this -- didn't find it creepy at all...and, interestingly, neither did he. The whole "thing" was reassuring somehow.  Yet when I think about it -- there are few people I would want to share my shower with -- and all of them are alive -- and some of them don't even know me.  On second thought, I hope I can reserve my shower space to myself. I get a lot of good thinking done there.

Scissors

There have been times throughout my life when I have listened to people lament the loss of a sock.  "It's like the washing machine eats them for fun", they say.  I am thinking that you may have had a similar experience or have heard others talk about coming up one short of a pair.  Here's the thing... I don't really have a problem with missing socks.  I don't recall ever having such a problem.  My issue is scissors.  

Scissors have always been an issue for me.  I will give you a for instance....  In 2001 I moved into a new home.  I distinctly remember counting my scissors as I found them while packing to move.  I was astounded to find that I had sixteen pairs including a pair of pinking shears that are more than a little difficult, if not impossible, to operate.  Of those sixteen pairs, the only one I am able to locate at this moment in time are those cantankerous pinking shears. I have no idea where the rest of them are.  

Have no fear, however... There are now several other pairs floating around  -- at least 12 that I know of -- all purchased in the past 14 years.  I counted four dirty and well used pairs of various sizes and colors while I was working in the garage just the other day. I distinctly remember using my favorite pair to open a tough bag of rock salt last winter. They have never been the same since -- thus their placement on the shelf in the garage. There are also texturizing scissors in my bathroom, a pair of tiny thread cutting scissors in a drawer someplace, and at least four pairs of nice scissors that I have ruined by cutting things like twine, cardboard boxes, mailing paper and packaging tape.  They look nice standing in a mug on the kitchen counter, but good luck getting them to cut a hanging thread or to open a plastic bag of mini pepperoni. (Looks aren't everything, as we know.) It's a dilemma, one that I have created.  

So -- once again decent scissors are on my shopping list -- all the while I am promising that I will save this pair to use while cutting fabric or when mending. I am not kidding myself though -- I know that will not happen.  I know that in the pressure of the moment, I will grab the scissors now and regret later. It's shameful.  At least I eventually relegate the dull ones for use in the gardens and garage if I don't misplace them first.  Where do they all go?  Does anyone else out there have this issue? Do I have to move again to find those other sixteen pairs? Would I want them if I did find them?  I just don't know.  Am I alone in all of this?  Are all of you missing sock people?    

Heart Hugs

I had a wonderful friend who gave what he called heart hugs.  They were the kind of hugs where you wrapped your arms around each other and pressed your hearts together.  They were indescribably wonderful. He being much taller than I sometimes made these hugs hard to manage, but if I could find a step to stand on, they were perfect.  I miss him.

Recently on Facebook someone shared a copyrighted "photo" that made me remember these hugs.  It was a scene of Charlie Brown and Snoopy hugging. The words? "I love the kind of hugs where you can physically feel the sadness leaving."  I think the source was something like "You are My O2" It was sort of hard to see.  Anyway -- that is the best definition of a heart hug that I could ever imagine.  Perfect....

A wise woman once shared with me that she never passes up a hug. She is one smart lady as she is definitely a hugger and thrives on them. Not all people are huggers though. I think hugging may be a learned behavior and some families are just not into it.   I am from a hugging family and sometimes I am not into it.  I get it. 

Hugs are healthy in general. Not all may be heart hugs, but all hugs are a good thing...even the ones that send your glasses flying. I have taught my grandchildren the heart hug.  Some things are worth passing on from generation to generation.  I consider it a gift from my friend to them. They never had a chance to meet him. I think, as he did, that it is important to share the good things, the best things about people who have passed through your life, whose lives have been a blessing. It's a poignant kind of immortality -- if the best that was them continues on. 

Heart hugs all around. 

A Laugh Fest

Laughing is one of my most favorite things.  It is good for a person -- physically and mentally. Over time, many have written about laughter being good medicine, good for the soul, etc. Still true today, and isn't it nice to realize that some things last -- that this is one of the things that has survived? 

Recently I shared a delicious, homemade brunch with several of my cousins. When we get together for this type of relaxed, no-special-reason get-together, it is always a time of laughter.  "Funny" runs in our family, I think. We enjoy each other -- know each other -- have known each other all our lives. We laugh together.  It's bonding.

Topics of conversation vary, of course, but we usually touch on a few funny stories about our relatives, current goings on, plans, etc. Once in a while there is something we have to sort out. This particular gathering we got caught a bit on pierced ears. I think it is important to note here that there are lasting effects from some of life's decisions -- like having one's ears pierced -- or like the time my sister got a new electric razor from our Aunt Doris and decided to try it out on my legs. I was ten. Sometimes your life changes forever. Before I get to the cousin discussion though -- I want to share with you how I remember the whole ear piercing thing in my life.  I  don't remember ever wanting my ears pierced. My Mom and sister, both girly girls, decided that I needed them pierced, and for my sixteenth birthday and gave me earrings they liked and an appointment to have my earlobes drilled. I distinctly remember our family doctor grumbling that if God wanted our earlobes to have holes, he would have put them there. Neither he nor I were thrilled -- but we went along. Must mention that I haven't worn earrings in years. I like them on other people, just not my thing. I don't often think of the holes in my lobes. It's all good - although I just wish they would disappear.  Speaking of -- don't you wonder what all these tattooed people will think as they grow older all colored in ink that may clash with their outfits or that may be an unfortunate lesson in what happens with aging skin? There are going to be a lot of wrinkly tattoos...for sure.

Anyway... to get to the point -- this was the situation at the laugh fest:

One of my cousins had her nine-month-old granddaughter with her. (In our family, we like to start the children young in respect to the laughter "thing".) The baby had recently had her ears pierced, and that event gave direction to the conversation as two of the cousins, in their sixties or thereabouts, have always wanted to have their ears pierced, but being the big chickens they are on things like this, have never done so.  So -- the questions began. "Did the baby cry?"  Was there an audible crunching sound?"  What is the healing time?  We actually found quite a bit to say on this topic. The baby was totally happy to sit on her Nana's lap and was not at all aware that her teeny earlobes had become the center of attention.  My one cousin brought it all to a fun highpoint with this remark or something sort of like this (I don't always remember word for word and sometimes lose my notes).  She said...  I have often thought that I should have one of those medic alert bracelets engraved -- If you find me unconscious, please pierce my ears.  Need I say more? 

Having written all this, I just hope I am invited to the next laugh fest.  Maybe they will let me come if I promise to leave my notepad at home. I have to say -- this group has been my inspiration more than one time.  They are like that.  Fun and funny does run in the family. We all love to share laughter; it's a good thing all the way around.

I call her the Lovely Luna...

I call her the Lovely Luna. She is a regal Norwegian Elk Hound mix, playful, loyal, gentle, but "mega" protective, and... top dog intelligent. I hope you know or have known a dog like this one -- a bit on the timid side until she launches into her protective mode. She loves her humans. I have mentioned her before in this blog -- she is the inspiration for the almost 3 acres of invisible fencing that came up in a post a few weeks ago. I will do what I can to protect this dog.  Recently she stayed with me for a few days, and I must say that she is welcome again at any time in the future -- definitely.  She is a lovely and frequently invited "guest". If truth be known - she is Family (notice the capital F) as well as the perfect visitor. She happily eats whatever you put in front of her, she never snarly mumbles or makes any noise of any kind actually, except a rare single bark to "ask" someone to open a door. If she had thumbs, I am convinced she would open the door herself. She is pleasant, has friendly eyes and appears to listen to everything you say to her with the added bonus of seeming to be interested in what you are saying. I am thoroughly convinced that she understands a good deal of English.  She also sleeps all night on her own bed -- doesn't lurk about or sneak up on furniture,  and ---she smiles.  She is never a Miss Grouchy Face -- ever. Can you ask more than that from a guest?  I think not.  She is perfect except for when she rolls in questionable pasture substances like deer poop or bear meadow muffins  and ... then... there is the doggy breath issue that may or may not be related to the previously mentioned dubious behavior ... but....  I can easily overlook these minor "unpleasantries" -- they are innate dog characteristics and... I love her. Plus it is obvious that she thinks she smells good and is so proud of herself that you just have to laugh as you gag.  

Other than going to work with my daughter at a nearby animal hospital, Luna is, for the most part, an outdoor dog. That probably is a good thing considering the last few sentences of the  previous paragraph. When visiting she spends most of her time wandering about and rolling in/sniffing things in the pasture or making a good show of being a ferocious guard dog.  She is protective. She especially enjoys positioning herself in elevated places and scanning her territory with head up and at least one ear raised.  She has trouble keeping both ears perked at the same time for more than a few moments. I don't know why. Perhaps it is a concentration issue. She does appear at times to be a little bit ADHD. Anyway ---it is especially nice for me when she has returned from her explorations and is tired out a bit. I like it when she snoozes on the floor beside my desk chair (like she was doing when I began to write this post).  As I said before -- I love her. What I did not mention previously is that she understands me. The house seems somehow empty when she leaves even though you hardly know that she is here when she is.  One last good thing is -- I know she will come back often if for no other reason than she goes almost everywhere with my grandkids...and...  I buy special cheese to put on her dog food and sometimes sneak her food from the table.  She likes to eat here.  Yep -- she will be back and that is a good thing.

P.S.  Reality check. A few days ago the lovely Luna had an "encounter" with a skunk.  She won't be visiting for a while.  I do love her, but I do have my limits....

Memo to The Donald

                                       
                      Memo


To:     Donald J. Trump,  aka The Donald
From:  http://frompencilboxtokeyboard.blogspot.com 
Re:     Seven reasons why people like you...or not
Date:  A little more than a year away from the next Presidential election...


It is quite clear that:

1. you are not concerned with being "politically correct". Some find this to be refreshing even if offensive from time to time. It's an unusual sort of mixed reaction...complicated somehow.
2. you are driving the talking heads of media, including major networks, as well as both CNN and Fox News, to the point of stuttering as they scramble to force you into some mold with which they are comfortable. Some find this to be most amusing to watch and wonder why they are so afraid of you and of your potential - why they go out of their way to make you look bad when over and over it turns back on them and has the opposite effect. The US media could use one of those people who helps create a positive spin on things. Their image is "hurting" big time. For many people I have talked with, media ranks right there with politicians on the distrust meter.
3. you don't seem to be in major need of financial contributions. What? Some find this to be a most pleasant change among politicians. No one owns you.  This is a good thing. No wonder some are twitchingly nervous. You are so not a typical politician... so not a member of the political version of the "good ole boys club".
4. you seem to manipulate the news to provide free campaign "advertising" without even trying. Some find this to be creative and intelligent as well as entertaining and endearing. Some of the less objective news people (which is most of them) are starting to move into a panic mode  -- at times becoming way too obvious in their attacks on you.  Ugly and sad to watch... they seem pathetically desperate somehow, but their actions keep your name in the forefront of the news. This phenomenon is great fun for those who enjoy some of the ironies of life.  Yep -- Those of us whose intelligence the media is underestimating do enjoy watching the media getting what's coming to them.
5. you somehow make the common man believe that you understand his situation even though your holiday "gratuities" to doormen may be larger than most yearly salaries of aforementioned Middle America. Some find this surprisingly and oddly bond-creating. Strange, isn't it?
6. you make city life look tolerable. Some, more rural Americans, find your love of city life to be sad, but understand that you call New York City your home - especially since you own a lot of it. We can't fault you for loving your home.  It's just that you are missing so much and that makes many who live a simpler life feel a bit sorry for you.... Rural America is largely underestimated by those who are sometimes referred to as "City Slickers". You do know, don't you, that New Yorkers are obnoxiously provincial? Actually, it's a very unattractive quality of many "city folk". Do we have glimmers that you do know that there is another world out there?  I think so.  American is a large nation; many think that you "get that".
7. you make a suit or dress clothes look almost as comfortable as jeans and a flannel shirt. Some find this to be odd but recognize that you, of course, may wear whatever you want. However -- one suggestion is that you stay away from baseball caps.  They are a bit of a stretch and an odd contradiction to the whole Presidential image even if you delete the boring, constricting necktie and switch to khakis and a sports coat on such ballcap wearing occasions. Further --  if you feel you must "dress down" upon occasion, please oh please spare us the rolled up sleeve look.  We know you didn't just finish mucking out the stalls in the horse barn. Actually -- we don't want you to do that. We have other jobs for you to do -- hopefully. We like it when you look Presidential.

Now here is the thing that you really need to keep in mind.  If you are in fact accomplishing all of this turmoil on the political front for any other reason other than to actually run for president, there are many who are not going to like you any more -- at all. Please don't become one of "them". Please know that there are those out here in the world of normal who have come to dislike politicians, who have learned to identify and to distrust all the false rhetoric and promises, who are disillusioned and apathetic -- rightfully so. You, seemingly a non-politician, appear to be asking all the right questions and at the same time making media, government, and some big business edgy and afraid. Some of us like that a lot and think that their discomfort is way overdue and well-deserved. Please be the answer for us. Give us hope. With you, even as arrogant as you are/can be, maybe some of us will become more trusting, less disillusioned and less apathetic. Maybe we will get to be a part of the new American dream.

Go for it, Donald. Although you sometimes seem to carry things a bit too far, there are those out here who are watching -- maybe even daring to hope again.   Don't make us ask the question: "Where is Jeb Bartlett when we need him?"

Facebook for Boomers?

Primarily as a way to broadcast my blog, I joined Facebook about a year ago. Now, at times, I wish everyone I know belonged. I have found Facebook to be enlightening, surprising, funny, and - to be totally honest - sometimes I have found it to be a little offensive. Nevertheless, I have learned a few important tidbits of information, reconnected with friends, laughed, and sometimes been so touched that I have cried for people I know and... for some I have never met. All things considered, I am glad that I signed up.  Never one to want to miss something, I check in almost every day to see what is going on. I am rarely disappointed. For sure this particular social media works "on several different levels". 

Take the past few days, for example....  I have seen more than a few family and pet postings that bring a smile, plenty of "newsy" updates on the goings-on of others, funny and not so funny videos gone viral, and tidbits from politicians and businesses. Using a blast from the past phrase, "It's all good." I must admit though that I do find myself playing favorites.  I love, for example, when people share actual photographs of things they made or are proud of.  It is just plain good and healthy for people to be able to take pride in things they have accomplished and/or value.  I also enjoy the "photos of quotes" that people "share"  -- the ones that make statements about the human condition, current events or national news are on the top of my list.  I confess that sometimes the snarky ones are especially appealing to me. For example the one posting that says something like "If you read it on the Internet, you know it's true.  Abraham Lincoln." It seems to be all in good fun... for the most part. One nice thing about Facebook is that you can ignore or make disappear the posts that aggravate you. I have no problem disregarding what I don't want to deal with.  Facebook makes it very easy to do so...unlike other parts of the "real" world.  At this "stage of the game" we all know about that sort of thing - both the ignoring and the getting rid of....

Now here is my Facebook dilemma of the moment.  I read a little "shared photo" this week entitled "ATM Pin Number Reversal...".  The blurb explains that if you are ever taken against your will to an ATM machine and forced to enter your pin-- try to remember (in all the hubbub and terror) to enter your pin backwards. The ATM will not only give you the money you asked for but also, notify the police that you are being robbed.  Meanwhile -- the ATM is busily recording everything. Obviously -- although I have found out through a little detective work that most ATM's are not set up to do this (although they apparently could be), you can see why I don't want to test this myself.
The more I think about it... there is another problem here as well.  I have enough trouble remembering my ATM pin # as it is, and I am not sure that I can translate it into backwards in my head in time. I mean -- it's not like my pin # is 1234 which easily translates into 4231-- oops - 4321.. (I can't remember my license plate number either.) Actually I haven't heard of any ATM robberies in my town anyway -- merely thinking of the "just in case" scenario, and... I am curious. I also like to think that I am prepared.  It's sort of like putting your cell phone on your nightstand or putting the spare car keys in a handy drawer so that you can set off the car alarm if need be when you hear a series of bumps in the night. It's like remembering to have your keys in your hand when walking to your car so you aren't digging around in your purse while someone approaches you from behind.  Ah -- the joys of living in 2015.... "The Times, they are a changin...."  Now if you remember those lyrics from the early 60's or thereabouts, you are definitely a Boomer and totally get all of this.  Good thing we adapt so well to change. Argh... We have had a lot of changes to deal with for sure.  We have been adapting for a long time now.

"Come gather round people/Wherever you roam/And admit that the waters/Around you have grown...."  Are you singing Bob Dylan words in your head?  I am thinking that you might be....  And so... you know how the rest of the song goes....

Hope to see you on Facebook...and have a good week.   

Back to School

It's been a couple of weeks now since my grandkids have gone back to school and, quite frankly, I miss them - although I do sort of feel like I am on vacation now that they are not.  

My granddaughter, in an all-day Pre-Kindergarten, has learned how to pronounce her teacher's name.  She told me before school started that she was just going to call her teacher Mrs. Carrot because her real name was just too hard for little kids to say. Actually her big brother had her pretty much up to speed on that by the morning of the first day. My daughter overheard him patiently teaching her to pronounce the name in question. He, of course, has a handle on everything "school" because he is, after all, in the third grade.  He came home after the end of the first full week with poster paper, markers, and a plan. He explained that he is going to run for student government and, in fact, already has not one, but two campaign managers.  Did I mention that he is eight-years-old?  And so it begins....

On another school front -- although they go to different schools, both my granddaughter and grandson ride the same bus. I find comfort in this and in the fact that there are no really big kids on the bus while they are on it. Seriously -- they are four and eight.  They shouldn't have to ride with high schoolers.  There is time for that later on when their heads are higher than the seat backs of the school bus.  Do you agree? Anyway --  then when they get off the bus, their Mom and the Lovely Luna, my favorite dog, are waiting for them at the bus stop and together the four of them walk the two blocks to their home.  Nice... and comforting as well. It sort of pleasantly Norman Rockwellian to picture that scene.

Times have changed though -- changed a lot in the eight years since I retired from teaching.  Technological advances are amazing. My granddaughter patiently explained to me that she can communicate with her teacher from home through an avatar that she, the four-year-old, "created".  It is a bit mind boggling. (I am not even sure what she means and remember -- she is four -- definitely a "technobaby". She uses her Mom's iPad or fancy android phone I guess.)  Her teacher, whom I will always think of as Mrs. Carrot, even sent a mass message to all the tense Mommas pacing at home the first day of school to tell them that all the kids were doing just fine, had survived the morning in excellent shape, and that they were at lunch. The next day she sent home photographs -- mementos of the first day of school. I do so love Mrs. Carrot.

With all this in mind, I find it majorly comforting that her brother is still using poster board and markers as well as all the other fancy "stuff". For sure technological advances can be good things whether or not I am able to understand them.  My Grandson, in illustration of this point, is taking part in the STEM program at his school.  He is doing all sorts of cool stuff -- he tells me that Science, Technology, Engineering, and Math are his "thing". ( I hope I got the right words to go with the letters.) His major regret is that he only gets to go to this STEM class once a week.  He has already done "coding" for several video games which means he can make the characters move in specific directions --- I think.  The more I hear these kids talk about school, the more I have confidence in the future.  I am willing to let them have their go at it...the future, that is.

It is important to note though that there are some things that never change. My Granddaughter tells me with her big brown eyes snapping, that one little boy in her class keeps pulling her hair and that she finds it most annoying. To say that she is "most annoyed" though is an understatement. I know her well.  I am thinking that this unsuspecting little boy better watch out - I have seen her go after her brother when at the end of her patience, and that little shrimp can really pack a wallop when she has reached her breaking point. Yep -- that little boy better be very careful. Wish I could be a fly on the wall when he pokes the bear one too many times.  She is a feisty little thing. Beware all hair pullers.  If you know any -- please let them know.

And so Autumn begins...one last thought -- the kids are back in school so, of course, the weather turns hot and humid -- just in time for the kids and teachers to suffer.  It may be different now, but when I was a teacher, the only rooms that had air-conditioning were the computer labs and the offices of the administrators who had to work all summer in stuffy little offices. Maybe the schools ought to consider the benefits of Air-Conditioning as a technological advancement. Is there grant money available for that? Wouldn't that be lovely?

Lackadaisically Nerdy

I recently finished reading Stephen King's Finders Keepers.  It is the sequel to Mr. Mercedes.  I enjoyed them both and was so hoping for a part three. When I finished the second book, I felt that King had left the door open for that possibility and happily discovered on his website that Finders Keepers is, in fact, the second book of the Mr. Mercedes Trilogy. Happiness!  Will preorder the third book as soon as possible. Anyway, I ran across the word "lackadaisically" while reading King. From one word lover to another (or even if you are not...), have you ever seen that word in print before?  I have not, or if I have, I don't remember.  It surprised me in a way to see it.  (I most likely would have misspelled it if I had chosen to write it.) Then on further consideration I wondered when I had actually used that word in my speech/writing, if ever. Can you relate? I know I have heard that word but have I ever actually spoken it out loud?  Not sure, but I don't think so.   It ranks up there with lollygagging, a word I have been fond of recently and, therefore, have incorporated into my speech/writing of late.  I like both words. So here goes... years ago I was floating on an innertube on a "lazy river" at Water Country USA/Water Park in Williamsburg, VA.  My children and I were with my sister and her children. She and I were "zoning out" on the river while keeping one eye on our children who were within sight -- I think standing under a waterfall or something. Anyway -- my sister and I were lollygagging lackadaisically while floating along.  It was most relaxing. Now it is at this point where my sister would mention, or at least think, that I am just weird.  She's right.  I am, in fact, not only weird but also the biggest nerd I know, and those are just two things I like about me.  I do not apologize.  I, in fact, love most nerdy people I have encountered in this life.  Kindred spirits and all that.... Such individuals are unique and most interesting to me. On careful thought -- I have encountered few people that I dislike. So -- does it follow that maybe there is a little of the nerd in all of us? What do you think?

A point of interest whether or not you find Stephen King to be scary, a little nerdy or weird...  I also saw on his website that he will be appearing on "The Late Show with Stephen Colbert" on September 11th.  Happy Birthday, my wonderful sister, who is also a Stephen King fan.  (Set your DVR.... I am going to....)

Overnight at Nana's House

School is starting the day this blog "goes live", so this past weekend was the last chance that I had to keep a promise I had made to my two local grandkids that they could stay overnight again before the end of summer vacation.  Why I made this promise, I will never understand. Maybe it is because they are so cute, so well-behaved, so wonderful....  Nevertheless, I have to say that I wonder if I am alone in this but... I have mixed emotions about overnights with grandkids.  It isn't them; it's me.  Take last night, for example. My two little grandkids arrived with toys and pillows in hand and huge smiles on their faces. It doesn't get any better than those smiles.  They were through the door and into "their" rooms as quickly as can be -- busily getting their areas arranged. They exude a lovely (and exhausting) energy. It makes me tired even to think about it.  Wish I could borrow some of it.  The dog, lest I neglect to mention her, came with them, of course. We (the dog and I) share the kids -- only they are more hers than mine.  She sleeps on the floor between their rooms when they are here.  Personally, if I were the dog, I think I would have snuck up onto the couch after Nana dozed off, but not the Lovely Luna....  she is the guard dog to end all guard dogs where her little people are concerned. Guess I am not the only one to sleep/not sleep with one eye open and ears alert all night. 

So anyway -- by the time the kids had settled in their 35 stuffed animals, etc. (pardon the exaggeration, there were probably only 30), it was time for the dinner I had also promised -- which involved a short drive to a neighboring town for the Chinese food which we all love.  So after the unpacking  -- we were off to our favorite Chinese restaurant. The children had perfect restaurant manners and we were all smiling as we left for home with our leftovers.  Then came a movie that we had all been waiting to see.  One of their favorite people had given them the DVD of HOME, and we settled in to share the experience.  That too was wonderful.  I found myself smiling most of the way through and clapping enthusiastically with my four-year-old granddaughter at the happy ending. (My eight-year-old grandson just looked at us...)  Anyway -- shortly thereafter, they both went right to bed and I never heard another peep out of them until morning - in the predawn hours. Anyway -- you must/may be wondering by now what my problem is. Well... here's the thing.  Sleep is not one of my personal "talents", and when the little ones are here, I barely sleep at all.  I leave little lights on all over the place in case they get up in the night.  I don't want them to be afraid or anything.... Then all throughout the night I listen with renewed attention to noises and hear all these strange sounds that I simply do not remember ever hearing before. I find myself sitting up in bed or padding around in the semi-dark trying to find the source of the sound.  Good grief!  I am exhausted by morning.  I am exhausted just typing words about the experience. Please understand, as well, that all of this Nana behavior is actually an improvement. When these kids were babies and spending the night, I would sleep on the floor next to the crib so I could hear them breathe.  Am I alone in all of this?  Is there anyone else out there who exhibits this same nutty behavior?  Please tell me that I am not alone.  Ah -- the joys of "grandparenting".  

All of this overnight stuff and my nana behavior being explored a bit, I simply must say that I do so love being a Nana.  It is the best gift ever- even if it does tire me out once in a while.  These kids will be invited to stay again and, of course, the Lovely Luna will be invited as well.  I can sleep later.  They are growing up way too quickly.

The Gathering

My four-year-old granddaughter calls it The Gathering, a title which freaks out some of the older generation of my family, reminding them of something Stephen "Kingish". So -- what is a "gathering" in this case? It is a getting together of three generations of family who have not all been together for ten years, if ever, when you consider marriages and the addition of five children. That sounds so simple, but it was a lot more than the traditional single afternoon of fun reunion. This gathering involved people rearranging their lives to come here for several days, or in the case of my daughter and her family -- helping to plan and prepare off and on for some time in advance. (Thank you all!) Family members started arriving on Wednesday of this past week. People came from Virginia, Pennsylvania, Indiana, Maryland, North Carolina, New York, and Illinois with most staying until Monday and some until Tuesday of this week. By the way --a big thanks to our only hotel in town --  The Cobblestone Inn -- where everyone could stay comfortably and all be under the same roof.  I would have had to stack people up like cord wood in my basement to fit everyone in my house; that's for sure. 

Now that everyone is home safely and my home way too quiet, I am taking this time to thank all the participants for making it here at no small effort on each of their parts. Not only did vacation time need to be arranged, but also, cars rented, care organized for beloved pets, fireworks, coolers and large games purchased and transported, and ... people had to deal with traveling issues -- some got stranded on the PA Turnpike, others traveled for long hours with small children, and some had to endure traffic trouble and/or heavy rains on the way home as well. Yet - everyone said it was worth the effort, and I don't think they were just being polite. It was a gathering to be remembered. Fortunately, the weather cooperated, and we pretty much lived outside during the day - every day.  Also fortunately -- most of my family live in areas that are a lot warmer than it is here, so they found the August weather of Northwest Pennsylvania to be refreshing.  While I found myself seeking shade, they explored the property in my work vehicle (the beloved Margaret), rediscovered croquet, played bocce and corn hole and... the big favorite -- practiced throwing a boomerang around in the pasture for a competition orchestrated by my eight-year-old grandson. The little ones also enjoyed splashing around in a kiddy pool and singing the Tooty Ta song with the experienced nursery school teacher of the bunch (we have photos and video for future reference if needed). Most importantly, we caught up with each others' lives and had the opportunity to get to know new additions to the family.  

All in all, it was an amazing few days...a gift to each one of us.   Who knows when we will be able to "accomplish" such a gathering again.  It was huge. I am still smiling. Oh -- did I mention that all of this happened to coincide with my birthday?  It doesn't get any better than that. I will always remember this past week. There is something profoundly touching about watching adult children taking charge in wonderful ways while remembering when they were little and they were doing things like stuffing gum up their noses, dressing up like policeman ... and putting on plays together at holidays, etc.  I started missing everyone as they pulled out of my driveway to return home. So -- I now have a week full of wonderful memories and ... all the "leftovers".  Plus -- we didn't even need to use the First Aid Kit even one time.  Nice.... 

Presbyterian Bunnies

As a part of my self-developed fitness plan with which you may be familiar if you are a regular reader of my blog, I have begun to walk as often as possible.   The parking lot at the First Presbyterian Church -- just up the hill from my house, is a lovely place to walk.  They have a program called "Walk Our Lot" and invite anyone to walk there during the quiet hours of the day.  Some say that once around the lot is 1/4 of a mile.  I don't really care about mileage, I just enjoy the peaceful nature of walking there as well as the flat surface and the perfectly maintained grounds.  It's lovely.  Then, of course, there are what I call the Presbyterian Bunnies.  They are adorable.  There are two or more of them at any given time, and I am quite certain that it is the same two who come out first to greet me in the early morning hours as I walk the back part of the lot.  If you also walk there, have you seen any of them? They are quite tame actually.  It's not like they are going to eat out of your hand or anything, but they wander about quite closely to where I am walking and don't seem too eager to scamper away. Like all Presbyterians I know and have known, they are friendly and most pleasant.     

We chat once in a while...sort of.  You know what I mean.  I am thinking of naming them.  That is not so odd really.  I name almost everything except house plants.  In the past few years, I have had vehicles named Esmeralda, Walter, Priscilla McBeans, and Fii (rhymes with Wii). Currently, I have a terrifically practical garden vehicle with an automatic dumping cargo bed that is named Margaret -- so dependable and sturdy.  My Jeep Wrangler is named Tobias after an ancestor who, with his bride Anna,  crossed the Atlantic in a schooner - traveling from Rotterdam to New York in 1857. My younger grandson has shortened the name to Toby, and it seems to fit. Toby hasn't crossed any oceans, but I have thought about dismantling it and driving it through my horse pond. Toby is sort of like a large Lego toy -- it all comes apart -- roof detaches in three pieces -- each of the doors lifts off.  What's a Jeep if you can't take it apart? Seriously.   Anyway -- I just can't think of appropriate names for these little furry creatures with the pom-pom tails. Perhaps I don't know them well enough. Let me know if you think of anything. Thumper I and II just doesn't cut it. They deserve unique names that have some meaning particular to them. Thanks.

Evening at the Museum

It only takes a few minutes to discover that the Corry Area Historical Museum on Mead Avenue treasures tradition and the preservation of memories of the fascinating past of the City of Corry as well as the surrounding area. In fact, the items at the museum document much of the way of life of people within a 250 square mile area.  Recently I was able to tour the museum as part of an event sponsored by Village Friends, Inc. As museum volunteer, Ann Clark, said in her introductory remarks of the tour, “People have done a great deal of work before us to preserve the record of our heritage, and we are working hard to continue that tradition.  That hard work and dedication, past and present, is evident to all who were able to attend. Many of us were even able to explore the record of our own families.  Now that is an amazing and emotional experience.  

The museum is a most “welcoming” place to visit.  Housing 15,000 artifacts arranged in creative ways, it also contains a large archive where newspaper clippings dating as far back as 1880 are organized and stored in a climate-controlled environment.   In addition to clippings is information not only on families from all walks of life, businesses, churches, and schools throughout time, but also many photographs that still need to be identified…just in case you are interested in doing a little detective work. 

Important point -- the museum can always use volunteers to catalog and to arrange new bits of history, to provide tours and to answer questions for the people who visit each year – over 3000 last year alone – 800 of whom came to do research on site.  It is a “happening” place to be sure.  Serious work is being done there and….  it is fun to visit.  Where else can you find such a variety – everything from yardsticks of local businesses to industrial machinery -- including a Climax Engine? 

No doubt about it. The Corry Area Historical Museum is a gift to Corry and the surrounding area.  It is open Thursdays 10-2 and Sundays 2-4 or by appointment.  Check out www.corryareahistoricalsociety.org for more details.

Not Good with Change? Join the Club.

Last week I met two of my cousins for lunch at Krasa's Kove in Findley Lake, New York.  In the course of our time together one cousin, who recently returned from several months in Florida, was talking about how she had cleaned out all of her closets, and I think her garage as well, since her return north.  What? I was unable to speak.  I just looked at her and then snuck a peek at the other cousin to see if her jaw had dropped as well.  You see this other cousin and I have been talking off and on all winter about how we need to clean out our closets, basements, garages, etc.  We have even considered cleaning out each other's as an incentive to get the job done -- you know -- thinking it would be fun to sort out someone else's stuff... like it is more fun to clean up someone else's kitchen than your own.  Alas -- we have accomplished very little. Our closets remain clogged, and although this other cousin has cleaned her basement and garage,  the spiders have settled into my basement- spinning a veritable web of condos by now for sure -- and my garage...? I have only swept it twice since the first thaw. Among the three of us, I am definitely in last place.  To sit there and listen to someone who has actually accomplished these tasks is to sit in awe.  It is impressive. Here's my theory --- at the core of the problem is that I do not like change. Further, I don't like to part with my favorite clothing and "stuff". I might need it again.  I am, for example, still mourning the loss of a long green knit dress that I used to wear on particularly cold winter days. Can you identify? Are there others out there who have clothing in three sizes?

Okay; so there. I confess that I am on the stodgy side as far as change is concerned. I tend to hang on.  It is a fact that I have had to be dragged kicking and screaming into the current world as it evolves and the new enters. I have my theories as to why, but who cares really?  It doesn't matter.  I am who I am in this respect. I actually think that one of the reasons I retired from teaching is that "they" took away my blackboard and chalk and replaced it with a whiteboard setup complete with electronic everything and markers that have a disgusting odor about them.  Oh my, ... it was all too much! The whiteness of that board and coping with adolescents who could text without looking at their hidden cell phones were most irritating. Handling and policing electronics in the classroom take away from the ideal learning experience as far as I am concerned. I fear that there is a large percentage of young people out there who do not know how to talk with other people unless they can use abbreviations and emoticons, not to mention all those who don't know how to add or subtract in their head, or... how to make change properly. (Please don't send me one of those "Old Fart" baseball hats.  I know... I know....)   

Is there a point when tolerance levels drop and the ability/willingness to adapt changes? Having discussed this with others on a couple of occasions, I am thinking that the answer is "yes".  Nevertheless, although my closets are overflowing at the moment and my To Do List is long... most often I eventually do come around and adapt -- often I actually adopt the latest and wonder how I ever did without it. Cable TV and Caller ID are just two examples. Going back a bit further,  I also own a microwave and, in fact, use it once in a while to melt butter, to make popcorn or to warm up left-overs. Does anyone actually cook in a microwave?  Further... I am typing on the keyboard that is attached to my desktop PC, but... I also own a laptop and an android phone, both of which I know how to use - sort of. I installed my own WiFi. Impressed? When I first heard of these "inventions" I thought they were newfangled gimmicks, gizmos with no future. I didn't buy Microsoft stock at the beginning either.  So -- that tells you something. Some of us change resistant folks miss a few opportunities.

Some things do not change, however.  Take a good hot dog and "home made" ice cream, for example.  You can find those for sure on Findley Lake, New York at Krasa's Kove. They serve the best -- Smith's and Addie's.  It is especially nice when you can share them with fun cousin/friends...even if one of them does have clean closets and the other an organized basement and garage. Some things it is just necessary to forget and forgive.  Plus -- I am thinking that it is possible that clean closets, basements, and garages will need cleaning again. There's still time to catch up...or not. My cousins don't care if I am behind.  We have more important and fun things to care about.  That will never change.  Nice....

"You got this''

Some slang words, like "cool", seem to hang around for generations. They simply work... or... no one has come up with a better choice that will work as well. Other words pass through the vernacular quickly -- sort of "run their course" and never make it into the urban dictionary or any dictionary for that matter. It works the same for phrases.  One phrase that I have been hearing for a while now and that I really like is "You got this".  I can only speculate as to its origin.  Maybe it is a derivative of "I get it" but going a step further somehow. But anyway, it works for me ... is somehow reassuring.... If someone says "You got this", it means that they feel that you are totally capable of handling whatever "it" is.  How nice.  I guess you could say "I got this" as well to convey that you will get it done, whatever "it" is.  It is confidence building either way.

Then again there are those temporarily popular words and phrases that have a short shelf life and most often we are glad about that. I mean ... it is hard to take a mature adult seriously when the word "rad" is spoken with a straight face. The current use of the phrase "on fleek" is particularly annoying to me.  I am hoping this one goes its own way very soon.

I have to tell you though, there are a few phrases that I never or rarely found the opportunity to use, but that still strike me funny years after their popularity has diminished.  Do you remember... 

• Gag me with a spoon (Actually I think I may have used that one once or twice.)
• All that and a bag of chips
• Talk to the hand (That is obnoxious to be sure... but still funny somehow.)

Language is so odd; it changes and evolves along with us.  Did you know, for instance, that in the 1920's the slang word "bimbo" was used to refer to a tough guy?   Just sayin'.... Odd as it may be, our ever-changing language does the best job that it can.  It comes in handy. For example...  Are you enjoying a few of the many difficult challenges of "getting older" or of life in general? Read carefully and "listen" to my words .... You got this. 

Office Supplies

My sister and I love office supplies.  We have enough stationery, folders, colored paper and assorted note pads, markers, and colored pens/pencils to stock a  small warehouse. When I was a little girl I used to play store and pretend to sell cards, Lindy pens, and nice writing paper. Later on, especially in college, I would write letters on stationery that you could almost see through and use sealing wax on the envelopes. The light blue and gray were my favorite colors of this paper, but the off-white was also special. Was it called onion skin or something like that?  As I grew older I continued to love to write letters on nice writing paper.  Now that I find typing easier than writing by hand because I can keep up with what I am thinking better, I often find special printer paper to use, but it's not quite the same thing. Further -- times have changed and I am disappointed to find that fewer and fewer people actually write letters. I rarely get a response by snail mail -- it's always email or text or a phone call.  Email, texting, and phone calls are nice... but somehow too easy, too convenient.  I suspect that many people our age have piles of writing paper yellowing in desk drawers along with dried out markers, old fountain pens, and a few tablets of post-it notes curling on the edges that are just too cute to use. Why are we saving these things?

More to the point though is that I am now thinking that this love of office supplies may be hereditary.  On a rainy day recently, my two little grandkids were at my house, and when I went into my office to write a couple of checks, they followed. They have a tendency to do that... which is totally fine with me. I like it.  They each have their own work area in my office as they have their own business to conduct -- like pages to color and "stuff" to cut up into little pieces.   Each child loves to have a "desk" full of office supplies like stickers, envelopes, little scissors, scotch tape, and... a stapler. I am telling you -- it's amazing.  They will sort, stick, lick, cut, tape, and staple for a full hour.  We also pass notes to one another.  Did I mention that I have colored paper?  Oh my...! My granddaughter particularly likes to sort her markers and crayons and then draw on lavender paper, purple being one of her two favorite colors.  Anyway... while they were working at their desks, I managed to write those checks and to get things ready to mail. It all worked out nicely.  They worked hard -- although I have to mention -- they did take breaks from playing office to dance to The Eagles, whose music my grandson had blasting on my Bose.  Now that I think of it, I think every office should offer dancing breaks.  Would you agree?  

I need to check with my sister to see if her two little grandkids also love "desk work".  I am thinking that they do. I know for sure that they would love digging through all her office supplies. I would like to do that myself.  Unlike me of rural America, she actually has several office supply stores where she lives. She can go inside and touch things and check out all the new stuff.  She even owns a label maker... and uses it. I am so jealous.  

I am also thinking that her grandkids may love dancing breaks as well.  Like I said -- some of these tendencies may be hereditary.  

The Project of the Moment

I am currently engaged in what I have come to call the "Think and
Act Like a Thin Young Person Project (TALTYPP). Try saying that out loud.  I am inviting all who wish to participate to join in and let me know how it is going. So far I know of a few people who are "in"... a bit more on that later. It's been fun, and since I started, I have only fallen once, and I didn't break any bones. Actually I don't think the fall was the result of the project; it was more of a klutz thing.

It all started when I was watching people move at Walmart.  A great many of them were my age or close and... I realized that posture is huge at this stage of the game. When you lean on your grocery cart and let it act as your support/skeletal system, or when you hang onto other people's carts while forcing them to chat with you, you are looking a bit on the feeble side and...seriously... on the lazy side as well. When you stand straighter, you look thinner and younger because you feel thinner and younger because you are acting thinner and younger.  It's all very simple -- or at least it appears that way on the surface. The process begins with visualization. Serious visualization is key to the TALTYPP Project. You just have to picture yourself as what you want to become.  So...I no longer lean on any shopping cart... and sometimes that is easier said than done.  I am now constantly mindful of my posture. I even sit up straight when typing at my computer. I also pick up my feet, wear shoes that fit and am working at thinking before I eat --  I feel better... thinner, younger... and even a bit stronger. I want to do this as long as I am able... and hopefully that is a long time. I am "into it" now.

Also important to the plan is that I have begun to walk outside and to move more when inside. To this end, I purchased a simple Garmin Vivofit that, among a few other things, tracks the number of steps I take each day and sets goals for me. Nice on one hand, sort of creepy on the other. The thing about this is that the better you become at reaching your goals, the higher the goals become. I know it may sound awful, but it actually makes me feel good -- better, thinner, younger and fits the TALTYPP project nicely. Several different devices will do this type of thing -- the Apple Watch even vibrates on your wrist if you are inactive too long, and there is the popular Fitbit which does all kinds of things in addition to tracking the number of steps. The Vivofit shows red warning lines to indicate your inactivity and to spur/guilt you into moving.  I should mention that you can also sync any of these devices with your phone, tablet, laptop, etc.  ...and as far as I know ... they all track your movement during sleep.  Did I mention that these devices are a bit creepy?

Anyway -- this project of the moment is a good thing that is working for me. Actually I think it is catching on a bit. I know that people in five states have joined the TALTYPP movement (so what if that is one person in each of those states and that most are relatives of mine). Locally... I notice that more and more people are displaying better posture, looking younger, stronger, and a bit more healthy. I see more and more Fitbit and Vivofit devices all the time.  (They are not particularly attractive and are easy to spot.) I am thinking that anything that encourages people to move more is a good thing all the way around.  One thing though -- it is important to note that the Fitbit and Vivofit do not count steps if one is leaning on a shopping cart even if a person's feet are moving. So when you see people using one arm to push their cart and swinging their other arm as they shop, you will know they are counting their steps and also that they are a bit compulsive about it - like me....  Also...    

It's 332 steps to my mailbox and back.  Just saying...

Let's Talk About Friends...

I have had some wonderful male friends over the years  (still do), but let’s face it – on some level, men will never be able to understand women.  Why should they?  They are not like us..  We can't really understand them either. I think men are wired differently or something. I don’t spend much time thinking about it at this stage of the game.  This gap, imagined or real, which sometimes causes painful disappointment on both sides, is not the fault of men, nor that of women. It’s just there. Some have even said, “Vive la difference!”  

More to the point I am trying to make though … I have female friends of all ages, and I value the perspective of each -- from the young woman who finds life to be a bit more black and white than I may now in my 6^th decade -- to the woman in her 9th decade to whom life has offered many lessons, some of them hard-learned.  If you are fortunate enough to have a friend of this age group, you need to listen most carefully to what she has to say. She’s been there.  A few of my favorite tidbits offered by a woman at age 96 as she was speaking her own truth: “Don’t worry about it; it happens.” “Whatever floats your boat.”  “Time heals nothing. You just get a little more used to it every day.”   

There is such wisdom in experience.  A friend of mine, now in her 8^th decade, formed a discussion group a few years ago that meets once a month -- unless she is off in India, China, New Zealand, Australia or some other exotic place. How cool is that?  Anyway - this friend has mentioned on two occasions that it is important to cherish your female friends because it is they who will be with you as time goes by. Think about that, fellow women. (I must mention that I know of one group of particularly savvy members of the Class of '67 who totally get this.)

Further -- when I think of this advice, I can’t help but think of my "growing-up" "best" friend.  We have been friends for almost sixty years now. Everyone should have a friend like her. Time passes, and we may not even have a hint as to the details of each other’s current life, but we hear each other’s voice or see each other across a room and automatically tap into that "connection".  We know who each is at the core. We swam in the Brokenstraw Creek, scaled large rocks in our Keds, and walked a rabbit on a leash for crying out loud. She taught me how to drive a standard shift in the high school parking lot. We faced the "horrors" of adolescence and worse -- together.  We laughed; we cried -- together. This friendship is as close to a "sister-bond" that one can get without actually being a sister.  When we talk, it is like no time has passed and we catch up if we need to. If not – we are just thankful that there is someone out there who knows  -- really knows. There is someone out there who could finish the other's sentences if need be, who could be in some part the other's memory and sometimes has been. There is someone who can “read” the sound of the other's voice, see the message by looking into the eyes of the other with nothing being said.  There is someone who knows that if you put “it” into words, that you are somehow removing “it” from what “it” really is… that if you talk about it, you diminish it somehow. Friends like this get the message in a miraculous way. I don’t know what to call that.  Very simply – these friends understand each other without any of the explanation. They are able to sense the message – completely – with all its nuances.  It is as if they reach out and softly grasp the other’s hand….

Yes -- There is so much to say about friends…  a friend is truly a blessing -- I so wish I could find the right words.  Who hasn't wished that?  I also wish that everyone could have a good friend.