Little Red Wagon

 

Don’t know how about you, but I like the week between Christmas and New Year.   For me, over the years, it has become more than a marking time week of post-holiday leftovers and decorations beginning to wear out their welcome. It has become a week of quiet of the good sort.  Where I live, it is most often a time of cold and snow and that makes the world an even quieter, cleaner, and fresher place. It's comfortable. It is also restorative somehow – at least it is if you manage to miss the weather extremes.  It also makes you very thankful for a warm home and simple accoutrements like gloves and thick socks.

When I was a child (many, many moons ago), I had a little red wagon. I wore it out over time.  I would sit half in the wagon on one knee and hang the other leg outside to use as a brake or a pusher. It was a time of scabby knees and pony tails. I could scoot along or drag my one foot as needed to pretty much control the speed. I could also use it to gather treasures along the way. You know, things like the perfect stick or proper skipping stones. My old Keds took a beating. The nice thing about those wagons is that you could steer them with the handle bent toward you as you rode along. You were the driver… in charge.  It was nice. Even riding over the bumps was sort of fun. 

Past the little red wagon stage now, but I like to think that I am still in the driver’s seat of my life and the week between Christmas and the New Year is, perhaps, the time to ride along nicely and hope that your Keds are up to the challenge.  May we all have one week to just enjoy the peace as we ease into the next year. Maybe we can even find perfect small treasures along the way -- you know -- for future adventures.  

In 2023 we are able to begin again ... a fresh start …. Happy New Year….  May your wagon miss the big bumps….

Three sleeps 'til Christmas...

 

Okay -- It's that time.  I am tearing up watching tv commercials. Traditional holiday songs bring me to the brink of tears, and commercials with "the music" push me over the edge. I am, once again, avoiding the Hallmark Channel out of necessity.  It must be almost Christmas. 

People who have been around for a while may agree that any holiday season is bittersweet.  Each holiday offers a lifetime of memories – memories of good times, of hopes and dreams and also, as time passes, of loss.  Perhaps that is why the joy of a child is always something to cherish -- especially now in the week before Christmas.  There is something amazing about being able to manage even a momentary glimpse of the world through a child’s eyes – moments of pure joy, innocence and wonder. Wish there were a way to hang on to that ... and yet ... perhaps there is.  Perhaps it is through creating the best holiday one can for those close to you -- whether they are near or far away -- moments to enjoy the comfort of security of family and friends, and of the peace of unconditional love. Perhaps it is in the creation of memories they will cherish when they, too, have been around for a while. 

Wishing you a wonderful holiday with lots of good memories of old times and ... with the creation of lots of new good memories as well.  

                                        

                       

Starting off on the right foot...

 

As I attempt to work on this blog today, parts of my brain are competing.  It is a tossup as to whether the Christmas music that is stuck in my head on replay or my ideas for the blog will win out.  I am hoping that the “sleigh bells in the snow” will become a soft background music. Fingers crossed. I am trying.

Okay – so here it is. Thanks to an unasked for and unappreciated latest update, my trusty old android is now able to give me a weekly report on how I am spending my phone time.  This week I spent 38 minutes texting, 16.7 minutes looking around on Amazon and over an hour on Facebook.  This, of course, does not count all the time that I spent on my HP PC or the iPad. This iPad is a device with which I am still not on friendly terms.  Someday, perhaps, someone will find said iPad on the bottom of what I call my horse pond and wonder how it got there.  The pond will know, of course, but seems to be very good at keeping secrets. It has shared literally nothing with me over the years.

Anyway – all this got me to thinking about how I spend my electronic time as well as wondering why my android is tracking my behavior.  I did not ask it to. It bothers me a bit -- but I will think about that later. For now -- this report called to mind something I saw on Facebook this week.  It was a word jumble provided by “Love quotes for you”.  (Isn’t that a gentle and lovely name?) Apparently the first four words that jump out to you from line after line of letters with no spaces in between will be your Mantra for 2023. I was game.

I liked the first four words that I saw, so I went ahead and picked four more. I stopped there, but wondered how many more I could find if I really tried, but my time was limited.  Anyway – here they are - in no special order:

                  POWER  LESSON  PURPOSE  CONNECTION

                   CREATION  STRENGTH  CHANGE  FAMILY  

Then, because I am a sentence person,  I went about putting them all into sentences – one of which I could use for my mantra for 2023.  I came up with a few actually.  I will spare you the details. They were all very wordy and heavy on strong nouns.  Even so -- I must mention that I like positive games for sure.  I am hanging on to the positive as we get closer and closer the beginning of 2023. I like new beginnings as well.  Things positive and new beginnings form a strong combination -- hopeful and somehow comforting.  It is a combo that helps one to put the best foot forward when starting a New Year. Trying counts... at least that has been my experience.

A Very Merry Corry Christmas

 

The days before Christmas in the small town I call home have always been, for me, a special time. This season is no different. Picture this – it is the first Friday of December.  Amazingly -- it is above freezing here in NW PA as the sun sets, and ... it is not snowing for the first time in a couple of days.  ... so begins a fun evening in downtown Corry. It is the First Friday celebration.

Every lamp post on the Center Street is decorated with a wreath and lights, and this main thoroughfare is closed to traffic for a few blocks. There are horse and tractor drawn wagon rides – free to all.  Music is in the air everywhere. All the shop owners have removed every trace of snow from the sidewalks. It is safe walking (so nice for those of us who no longer think it is fun to slide on ice). Smiling people are milling about. Lots of Merry Christmases are to be heard. Small children are especially excited. It is hard to describe their smiles. Beyond wonderful! Heart touching.  Santa is here… as are Rudolph, the Grinch, and some darling elves.  Excitement is high. The shops are full. (Busy shops and photo ops.)  Food is available in every direction.  The local Rotary Club is offering hot chocolate to all passersby. The local champion dance team is performing in the decorated gazebo in the City Park. A crowd has gathered to watch. There are carolers moving about.  It is a "happening. It is a lovely evening all around. It is a Very Merry Corry Christmas.

What did I miss?  It was a gentle and festive start to the holiday season. Thank you, wonderful people of Corry. Again I must say … I love small town America. 

Merry Christmas! It will be here and gone before we turn around twice.  Enjoy!

At the end of the day...

   

Here we are in the Post Thanksgiving, Pre Christmas season and in addition to feeling thankful for innumerable blessings and anticipating the joys of the upcoming Christmas season, I find myself at times caught up in the ugly dramas of the world. The challenge is always to figure out a way to step up and out of those things and to keep oneself from falling back into the muck.  I am going to try to do this by finding examples of good "things" and by ignoring the "headlines" for a bit. I still devoutly believe in the existence of good.  And so -- I begin...

Recently I heard of a family who took part of their post Thanksgiving feast time to discuss how they were going to give to others during the upcoming holiday season.  As has become their family tradition - in lieu of exchanging gifts with other adults in the family -  they would again pool their money and determine together where a donation would be most needed -- locally. I am deeply touched by that kind, quiet generosity. 

Personally my major concern is hunger. I cannot stand the thought of people going hungry.  I think I got that from my parents. I remember my Mom feeding "hobos" at our kitchen table. This happened quite a lot actually. We were on the "Hobo Route", I guess. My Mom used to say that our house was marked somehow so they knew where they would be welcome.  (Many a calm afternoon of my childhood was spent looking for said mark. Never found it.) Anyway -- I particularly remember one man devouring an entire box of cereal -- while he was crying.  Memories like that stick with a person. My Dad would give them clothes, shoes, and/or perhaps a warm coat,  and then drive them on their way – a least a few miles or so in whatever direction they wanted to go.  I would often ride along in the back seat. (I was a tag-along whenever I could manage to do that.) There were other times -- also when I was in grade school -- that my Dad would have me ride along with him with a small pile of envelopes on the seat between us.  He would stop in front of a house, I would jump out, knock on the door, and hand an envelope to an adult without telling them who I was.  It was sort of scary and people cried sometimes.  I think I got “it” even then. He didn't say very much while we were driving about - except for one thing. He always said that helping others does not count if you make it about yourself.  You help people because you want to help people, not to get your picture in the paper. Yep.  Not sure he would be pleased that I am telling you about it now ... even though he is only with us in memory.

We don't call people hobos anymore.  Perhaps they have been replaced with "homeless" - although the situations are not quite the same.  We no longer open our doors to strangers.  That would be foolish. We no longer pick up hitchhikers. That would be downright dangerous. I am actually a bit surprised if a stranger even holds a door open for me.  Times change. it's not always for the better. My concern is in finding a way to make this not so true. Little kindnesses spread. Each one matters. We all decide.

Maybe it all boils down to this... “At the end of the day, as you close your eyes, be content with what you’ve done, grateful for what you have and proud of who you are."  I have seen several variations of this sentiment and have no idea of the original source.  Wish I did. Words are sometimes a gift.  I would like to say Thank You.  'Tis the season.

Abenaki

For some reason, I find myself fascinated with the word Abenaki... maybe it is because I find it fun to say out loud. Or -- maybe it is because I think my land may be haunted by members of traveling Abenaki pushed west by European settlers of long ago. They began to intermingle with other Native American tribes of this region by that point in time. Either way -- language has always been a personal interest. I have personal faves. A case in point -- my favorite French word is parapluie. When you say it out loud the "r" sort of catches in the back of your throat.  Again -- so fun to say out loud -- much preferable to the word in English -- umbrella -- although there is something to be said for that word as well. 

American English seems to have borrowed words from all over the place. Around here -- many words have come from the languages of Native Americans -- like the word Succotash, one of my Mom's personal faves -- the food, not the word.  The word actually comes from the Narragansett Indian word msickquatash which means boiled corn. Say that five times real fast. Are you bored yet?

It is fun to know though that other languages have borrowed from us as we have from them.  Popular in France today is the French word "le weekend".  Obviously we share well. Good to know. From time to time, some of you, knowing how I am about words, have shared your favorites with me as well.  Thank you for that. And now -- moving a bit awkwardly from that idea to my most important idea of the day....

Your sharing with me is just one of the many things I am thankful for on this Thanksgiving Day.  I am blessed with family and friends, and then there are the many seemingly small, but yet important, things and moments ... and ... so much more.  I am Thankful for all my blessings ... almost overwhelming thankful.  Happy Thanksgiving to all! So much for which to be thankful. You included.

Happy Thanksgiving! 

 

I can't even...

The other day I was scrolling through my news feed on Facebook with the sound muted as is often the case, and I ran across an ad of some sort with a young woman selling an as yet to be determined something. Her appearance made me stop, think carefully, and wonder.  It was her startling makeup. I cannot remember what she was talking about if I even knew.  I may not have even figured it out because … #1 I was trying to read her lips, and #2 I was mesmerized by her face.  She was a lovely young woman, but her make-up was so thick I had to fight the tendency to try to wipe/scrape some it off through the monitor screen. I found myself reaching for a Kleenex and wishing I had longer finger nails. Her skin must have been suffocating under the weight of it all.  But – it went beyond that.

Are you familiar?  Totally blemish free and perfectly highlighted with bronzer, lips lined with a darker shade than that of the actual lipstick color ....  All that is fine, I guess – if you like that sort of unnatural and too perfect look, but… it was the eyebrows that gave me pause.  I simply could not get my eyes off the eyebrows.  They were a wide gray smudge on top of her heavily tweezed actual brows (you could easily see her real ones underneath the shaded area).  It was like she was going for the Brook Shields’ heavy brow look, but tying to create “the look” with a faded, wide tipped magic marker. Each brow was perfectly shaped as if a stencil was employed.  I can’t even…. 

Call me whatever, but it made me think of Hans Christian Andersen’s The Emperor’s New Clothes in some distorted way. Whoever convinced this darling young woman that those brows would look natural or even good? Doesn’t she realize that the extreme can detract from the message she wants to deliver? It also made me think of women today, who wear stupid shoes and have no idea that they look ridiculous.  I am talking about those women you see on TV who must have people help them walk in their stylish footwear. It is not just that some shoes are not to my personal taste; it is more. It is in the same category of icky as are some nose rings that, from the side, look like there is a large booger hanging from the "piercee's" nose. Oh - I have to stop now.  It is nuts.   

 #old fart again

 

Shoulder Companions

Years ago, I come across the idea of the hero’s journey. You can find this idea all over the place… in biblical stories like Moses wandering for 40 years in the desert or Daniel in the lions’ den. Journeys such as these also form the plots of a lot of fiction and nonfiction as well as in the story lines of movies and tv shows. My idea is that you can also see this hero's journey in the quiet and maybe not so quiet struggles of the world and of all individual people as well. I used to think of it as I watched students getting themselves to school every single day in spite of serious "complications" at home and/or surrounding them. These journeys are complicated - the lines and barriers are not always clearly defined or easily managed.

Anyway -- the idea of the hero’s journey is that a person enters into a period of trial that involves struggle – physical, mental or emotional. Throughout the journey, the individual learns lessons -hopefully coming out at the end as a better person. These quests do not always have a happy ending though and sometimes it is difficult - or even seemingly impossible - to define goals or to discover which path(s) to take. Choices that once seem defined become blurred. The struggles take on different characteristics – sometimes involving the ways of the world or other people in it. Differences in cultures, beliefs, traditions may blur or overlap in complicated ways.

People finding their way through a pandemic strike me as being on a hero’s journey. Hopefully we have all learned positive lessons from the experience including important lessons about ourselves and the world we live in.

People moving through periods of grief and change are on a journey as well. Hopefully they will find their way and be stronger and perhaps even more compassionate in some way in the end. (Sometimes it is hard/seemingly impossible to find the positive at times like these.)

Focus now on Americans in the week of an important election. The results are still coming in as I write. We as Americans are finding our way through difficult times. We are on a journey. We need to make the best of it and learn. Unlike many in the world, we do have a say in how we will come out at the end of the journey. Hopefully we will begin to work together and in strength continue on our way. Americans are a strong people.  

I do believe that everyone has an important journey - not just heroes … that perhaps just living is in some way heroic at times. Choices become magnified again and again. So do consequences.  Others believe that all human struggles are heroic and that all human beings have hero potential. Either way – we all have challenges ahead. Hopefully we, as Americans, can stand shoulder to shoulder and face them together.  Americans are known to be a strong, generous people who cherish their hard won freedoms. We understand differences of opinion and ways of doing things.  Our country is a melting pot in the best sense of the term. We need to step up and out of the complicated and divisive political muck of the times – and sort it out together as people who cherish freedoms. We can do this. We can be “shoulder companions” and move forward to a better and stronger America, a tolerant America that values all Americans. 

Now is another time to focus on what we all have in common rather than on differences we may have or may have had. We are all in this together.

Persnickety...

 

Every once in a great while I have the outside of my windows professionally cleaned. I am persnickety about windows in general.  I have no problem keeping the inside all sparkly, but dragging a ladder around outside and the ups and downs that entails is not fun… or a good idea at this stage of the game. As for that ladder -- I once spent an entire year looking for it. It turned up missing shortly after I missed the bottom step and found myself on the floor of the garage taking inventory of every bone in my body. I accused both my children and their spouses of hiding it from me. Good thing they have good senses of humor and are kind and patient.  I found the ladder in my barn - eventually.  I sort of remember putting it there, but have no idea what I was thinking when I did that. It might have been related to that episode in the garage when doing windows. That would make sense. I sometimes do.

Anyway …  I had the windows done this past week and this may be a record – it did not rain immediately after as is usually does. The rains that hit the windows enough to spot them came three days later… a new record in the duration of exterior window cleanliness.

If, by the way, you still do the outside of your windows yourself, I discovered by experimenting on a whim one time, that if you put windshield washer “stuff” into a spray bottle, it works exceedingly well to eliminate all grit and spots on the outside of windows. The rain-x variety will actually keep windows from spotting. I do not recommend it for inside as it smells like something that you want to hold your breath while using. 

So … as we in Northwest Pennsylvania begin to batten down the hatches in preparation for the long winter months, I have checked the windows off the list. Some may suggest that it would have been smarter to wait until Spring, but around here, one tends to look outside from inside for a lot of months in a row.  Who really cares about clean windows in the nice weather of the summer which only lasts a couple of months anyway. Not me. Summer here is a very brief time period, a short number of days and …  I am, most often, not inside to look out or to even notice window “sparkliness".

Should I be insulted?

 

About a month ago I received an email from Ancestry.com inviting me to take part in a survey about Physical Features. I saved the email as a sort of mental “To Do Later” activity. I was curious to see about what all they were asking. They offered a preview of the types of questions asked in the survey.  The samples included questions on the shape of eyes and natural eyebrows, the directions of hair whorls, and fullness of eyebrows – in that order.  I wondered if they offered drawings or pictures you could look at to compare to your own characteristics or just word descriptors. I figured I would need a mirror as I really have no idea about my eyebrows, their fullness, or any hair whorls I might have (does that mean cowlicks?) – let alone the shape of my eyes.  I do not even know what shape my face is. I was curious, but delayed until a month later to open the survey.  It was early in the morning and I had “Less than 7 minutes” to spare. I was all excited about answering 30 questions about my physical features… maybe. I sensed some hesitation. Thought I would at least take a look. I mean – what is Ancestry.com going for here?  Like I said… I was curious.

Anyway... after struggling to see all the cowlicks on the back of my head – you know, to determine the direction of the hair whorls that I have been dealing with for my entire life -- and -- after taking a good long look at my eyebrows and eyes, I clicked on the Take the Survey button to find this:

        Sorry, you don’t qualify to take surveys at this time.

If you have questions about your eligibility, please contact our Member Services.

There was, of course the usual small box below that said Contact Us.

I opted not to do so and merely deleted the original email. After all -- I had other things to do with that 7 minutes that I had set aside for them. Then again ... why am I not qualified to take the survey at this time?  Would tomorrow be better?  How do they know that I am not qualified?  Why did they send me the email to take the survey in the first place if I am not qualified? Am I sorry that I once did the whole DNA thing with them? Perhaps. As I move along in "the journey", I find that I trust less and less... and wonder about stuff more and more.  I don't necessarily like that, but some lessons are hard learned, and I for one, have learned more than a few the hard way.

Should I feel insulted or relieved?  Really….  I only wanted to see what else they asked. I was curious to see what they are investigating.  I was hoping that I could figure out how my answers could help them "develop new traits and other DNA products". They said that was their goal. Hmm... Now I am even more curious.  

Back to the drawing board...

I noticed again the other day that some things are inevitable ... like the situation when the instructions you need to understand the most are the most poorly written.  Then again sometimes once you figure out instructions  -- after painful and tedious trial and error, you realize what they meant and wonder why you found them so difficult. Other times -- they are written in a language you once studied, but have now forgotten or in a language that you wonder how anyone can learn ever.  (Don't you "love" instructions that come in several languages and the English version seems to have been overlooked somehow?) Then ... the ultimate insult -- there are actually times when no instructions are included... not even an inaccurate drawing with arrows or numbers in little circles. The directions are simply nonexistent ... as in missing - no matter how many times you look in the shipping box. It is as annoying as when you are trying to put together something and the holes don't line up. Not all of today's ways are an improvement over the old. That is for sure.  Sometimes we are on our own. Then again...  human beings are resourceful and ingenious....

Personally I am thankful for all those total strangers who have posted "How To" videos on YouTube.  When I remember that this option is readily available, I have, without exception, found the help I needed. Again -- huge Thanks to anonymous people out there somewhere who share their knowledge so generously. Much appreciated. Technology can be a very good thing ... sometimes. When confronted with things that are difficult to sort out, we used to say, "Back to the drawing board"; now it is "Go to YouTube". It can be a good thing really - especially for those of us who find seeing the "how to do" helps us learn the "how to do".

I am always a little surprised to find that totally techno-resistant people still inhabit the planet and do so happily -- finding their way somehow pretty much like every generation before them . Maybe they are better off than those of us who at least try to keep up if only with a bit of the available technology. Trying  though can be exhausting. Sometimes it is like attempting to explain the Dewey Decimal System or the purpose of a card catalog to a Google protégé or to one who prefers an e-reader to an actual book  -- you know a real book -- the kind where the reader can flip pages easily --  backwards or forwards.  Once again... #old fart.

Poor horse... Lucky Grandfather...

 

There is nothing quite like getting caught off guard and finding yourself in uncontrollable laughter…. You know -- the kind that makes you wish you did not have a mouthful of coffee that could easily end up flying across the table or bursting out of your nose.  That is just what happened to me a few days ago. 

I was out to lunch with dear friends – all of whom I find to be uproariously funny so I should have been prepared, but ... was not.  And as I try to write about this moment, I dearly hope that it is not one of those situations where “you had to be there” to appreciate it. It would be so wonderful if you could share the fun.

Anyway – we were enjoying a hearty meal at The Pine Junction on Bailey Hill Road outside of Findley Lake or Sherman, NY depending on how you look at it (you need to go there), when a large group of “mature” women began to file in and seat themselves at several nearby tables. It was a case of older ladies travelling in packs. One of them, a most curious and perhaps a bit overly friendly individual, came over to our table to check on what we were all having for lunch. Anyway -- I found myself "people watching" and trying to imagine if they came on a bus or in several oversized vans and how they knew each other. They, by the way, have absolutely nothing to do with the story I am trying to tell you other than they were a momentary distraction.

Meanwhile the conversation at my table had continued without interruption and I had missed a great deal.  Suddenly my focus was pulled back onto my group and I heard bits and pieces of a story about a 90-year-old Grandfather, with Band-Aids or masking tape or something holding his glasses together, walking into a farm house kitchen complaining about his broken glasses and mentioning as a side story that the breakage had occurred when his horse was shot out from underneath him ... the bullet hitting the poor horse smack dab in the middle of the forehead. Say What? Now my attention was back for sure. It seems that the 90-year-old Grandfather, however, was less concerned about his horse or about how he, himself, might have been shot than he was about his broken glasses. In fact he was "madder than a wet hen".  Oh, how I wish you could have seen the facial expressions of the person who was narrating this story.  Now -- for some reason --I found this whole thing to be hysterically funny as I pictured the whole thing in my head and began to laugh uncontrollably.  The harder I tried to stop, the funnier it got. I am certain that the horse did not find the situation amusing. I speculate that the horse may have been even more upset than the nonagenarian rider. (Yes, that is what a person in their 90's is called. I looked it up).

Then to compound what I found to be hilarious and this is perhaps the key part to the story – the raconteur went on to casually mention that the horse was not dead at all really; it was, apparently, merely stunned by the bullet (perhaps a glancing blow of the miraculous variety) and struggled back up onto its feet to carry on.  Seriously … picture that! And ... all the while the horse is regaining his feet, the Grandfather is looking for his glasses which were broken on their way down. It's funny. Right? (Again – the facial expression was amazingly funny. Everyone at my table was caught up in the story by now and... I was not the only one laughing. Laughter is so contagious. I am surprised that the food curious lady didn't come over to see what was so funny.) All this said... I am reminded, once again, that "things" are most definitely not always what they seem to be ... the horse got up again. Bet he had a story to tell his animal buddies back at the barn.  

I guess there is a lesson in everything. Plus -- I do not know when I have laughed so hard. I still am laughing about it. Laughter is a very good thing. Learning can be fun. By the way – they never found out who shot the horse in the first place.  Apparently, it was a errant bullet that came out of the forest, shot by some hunter with a bad aim or something.  When one lives is this neck of the woods, we have learned to be careful about such things. Poor horse. Lucky Grandfather.

I can figure this out....

 

Mantra to be admired: I can figure this out.  That notion is almost as important as remembering that "A goal without a plan is only a wish". In combination these two things can be very powerful when confronted with a problem or ... with a home repair. The only thing to add is that it is important to trust yourself ... to know that you can figure it out and that you can make a plan to get "it" done.  Then, of course, you need to remember all of that before you call a repairman.

Alas... I did not keep all of this in mind recently when my clothes drier would not turn on.  By habit perhaps, I called the place where I bought it, and was given the name of a drier repairman who had to drive to my home from Timbuktu -- the "cha-ching clock" started ticking when he left his driveway...understandably so.  When I spoke with him on the phone, I told him my analysis of the problem... that the knob was stripped.  He was very patient with me about that and replied with a kind "hmmm". Although he may have distrusted my analysis of the situation -- perhaps rightfully so -- he was a very nice man, came within a week or so and put a new $5 knob on the drier that worked (but looked awful) and charged me $85 for the house call. The whole procedure took about 7 minutes to complete.  He also told me that this knob problem is a common one with my brand of drier.  If only I had trusted myself to just pull the knob off and find a new one online. In retrospect, I should have had more confidence in my initial analysis of the situation.  I mean, after all, I ordered parts and fixed my own oven for years.  But ... that was a long time ago. Actually it is sort of amazing when I think about it -- that was before the Internet and YouTube.  I am impressed with the younger me.  Anyway...

Out of curiosity I did a bit of research after all of this and found my exact drier situation on You Tube as well as several videos of how to "repair" the knob dilemma and info on where to order the new knobs for the particular model of drier that I own -- for the best price.  I ordered the knob so now have one that matches all the other knobs. I am a "matchy-matchy" person as far as knobs on appliances go. What can I say? I am who I am.

The drier works well. Lesson learned.  Be mindful. Trust yourself. Do your homework first. Make a plan. Get it done. You can figure it out. Oh .. and save the repairman for the big problems like when your disposal falls apart under your sink and floods part of your kitchen. Been there, done that.  Appliance repairmen are often worth their weight in gold  -- you know -- to fix the hard problems. Plus they know how to crawl in under sinks, take things apart and put them back together ...  and how to move heavy stuff to get the job done.

You Learn Something New Every Day

The thing is, now that I am on the back side of the course, it is, for some unexplainable reason important for me to know that I can learn new things.  I like the occasional challenge -- like learning a new crochet stitch or figuring out how to translate what my kids or grandkids are talking about into something that I can sort of understand. (It somehow diminishes me to have to ask them to explain. I mean, after all, I am the one who helped teach them how to talk and not to touch "burny, burny" hot things. ) 

The thing is -- a lot of things in life do not change from generation to generation really. Younger generations just talk about whatever it is differently.  Well, that and they wear different fabrics and their boots don't leak.  Although ... I am noticing these days that eye glasses that I found unattractive in the 1950's are still unattractive to me in the 2022's. (Further -- If the "Cat's Eye" look in eyeglass style ever comes back, I am not sure that I will cope well.) Anyway ... back to the "how we talk about it" aspect of all of this ....

Recently, for some unknown reason I was exploring a post from "Weird History" and discovered that not only is "overmorrow" the word for the day after tomorrow, but also that "crapulence" is the word for that sick feeling you get after eating too much. I find both words to be a good fit for what they describe and although I probably will not add them to my vocabulary, they remind me that you do learn something every day.  I think that is a good thing really. Curiosity doesn't always kill the cat. I wonder where that phrase came from?  

  

An Unexpected kindness....

 

Those of you who are local are most likely aware of the gentleman who often sits in his wheel chair next to the road in front of the Corry Manor on Worth Street. He smiles and waves to passers by.  There was an article about him in the local newspaper a bit ago. The Journal article, by Chloe Forbes, is entitled "Manor resident uplifts community with a simple smile".  It is a warm and positive human interest piece -- nice in these nutty and often dark times.  The gentleman, Doug Austin, thinks of what he does as a "smile and wave ministry".  I think that is most apt.  It does my heart good to see his smile and to smile and wave back to him -- a total stranger.  It is the bond of a kindness that ends up moving both ways -- good for both sides of the exchange. Double kindness.  A smile and a wave -- simple, but powerful kindness. The whole "thing" makes me think....

Of all the words written about kindness, these are my favorite.

                An unexpected kindness is the greatest gift.  

An unanticipated smile, a nod of approval or understanding, a gesture of thoughtfulness… all unspoken but carrying a strong message. They cost nothing really, but are priceless.  Thank you, Doug Austin, for your unexpected kindness. Like my Mom used to say -- "Reach out to those within your reach. Sometimes that is enough and you have no idea how far that reach may extend."

If you are so inclined  -- wherever you are reading this blog, consider mailing a postcard with a "smile and wave" to:

                   Doug Austin

                The Corry Manor

                640 Worth Street

                 Corry, PA 16407

Imagine for a moment what it would be like for him to realize that there are people all over the United States and even in several other countries where people happened upon this blog who are returning his smile and his wave. (Feel free to click on Share as well... Imagine for a moment what that might do...)

 

#outofmyleague

Recently I was an unwitting participant in a conversation about hashtags.  It involved three generations of participants, of whom I represented the oldest of the three.  To add to the discomfort of the situation, the conversation took place in a driveway on a muggy, buggy late afternoon . Now here is the dilemma.

I know what a hashtag is. # See?  I have, for practical purposes, no idea what they are used for today.  All this time, I was the innocent who was content to use # to mean number… as in #5 on some list or as a (lb.) sign.  Therefore … I am sure that you can imagine that I had no idea what the conversation was about.

It all started when my grandson, the ever-brilliant representative of the youngest generation involved in this mess, created an Instagram account for me to put forth my blog – known up to this point as From Pencil Box to Keyboard on BlogSpot and shared weekly on Facebook as well. The concept, if I understand correctly, was/is to further “boost” my blog. I had no idea how Instagram works and still don’t.  From what I can tell, it is mostly about sharing pictures and not blogs, but what do I know?  We have not, up to this point, figured out a way to even share the link to Pencil Box on Instagram without a series of hold and move (swipe), screen shots and assorted other miseries – so confusing to me that I have no idea why he even thinks my blog belongs on that platform.  I watched as his thumbs flew through a series of fast moves, trying this and that.  It was spellbinding.  He is most impressive in his thumb texting skills. I confess that there were times while he was at work on my phone, (all the while sputtering inside his head that I have an Android and not an iPhone), that my eyes rolled up into my head. I simply could not follow and wasn't sure that I wanted to.  

Meanwhile, my daughter, his mother – the middle generation of this conversation that occurred in their driveway… was suggesting that I use hashtags to get more followers.  Mistake.  Apparently, according to the youngest generation, hashtags are not used on Instagram. Ever. It was an emphatic -- never ever. Who knew?  Furthermore – I was innocently thinking that I had plenty of views on my blog already and was already wondering how I could delete my Instagram account.

Now the difficulties of the situation were then further confounded by the fact that my daughter and I found the whole hashtag concern to be hilarious.  Perhaps we were tired. Perhaps it was the look of frustration on the youngest generation’s face. Much laughter ensued.  Anyway – she then suggested that I post the blog on Pinterest…. Now… I thought, heretofore, that Pinterest existed only to share crafty "stuff".  What do I know?  Obviously, I was/am out of the loop. Unfortunately, with the mention of Pinterest, the terms "platform" and "search engine" came into play along with the "hashtag" concerns, and I knew at that point that I was totally useless and out of my league. I just wanted to go home and throw together a meatloaf and read a book while it was in the oven.  

Oh, how I sometimes yearn for the simplicity of the past when # meant number or how many pounds of something ... and a platform was something on which one stood, off which one dived, or perhaps a short-lived shoe style. As for search engines… I will just stick with Google.  I have that one figured out. 

#outofmyleague. 

Oh -- I have also learned that one does not use spaces between words in hashtags. Apparently, Twitter made that "rule" which gives you some idea of Twitter wisdom validity. I also read the other day that one does not use punctuation in texts.  Now that is just asking for trouble.

#Stupidityisrampant

#let’smakecommunicationevenmoredifficultandconfusing. 

#oldfart.

Truths as I know them...

 

After careful research and a lot of thought – the following are some truths as I have come to know them … and, as always ... a few questions. I am hoping that this will be my last super serious blog of a political nature for a while. That being said... 

There seems to be no end to government spending these days.  (How soon until taxpayers are footing bills in the quadrillions or maybe “zillions”?) Yet … no one seems to be tracking the money that is being spent or know from where it is coming. The small print is getting smaller and smaller. Reports of fraud, graft and misuse are fighting their way to the surface.  Perhaps 87,000 new IRS agents will help gather the necessary funds to support this current trend toward big government. (Are there 87,000 qualified people who want to work for the IRS? Will they wear uniforms?)

The reputations of the DOJ and the FBI have seen better days. It is a serious and well-earned image problem.  (Time to clean house there as well?)

Currently at a 40 year high, inflation is ever growing. Respect for law and order is not. Dependence on enemies for fuel – both gas and oil - is the new trend after a time of gas and oil independence. Homelessness is ever increasing especially along the western coast and in larger cities. (Does the clock need to be turned back to better days?)

Although denied and/or ignored by some … as of January 2021, there is an ever-growing border crisis of historic magnitude. We are witness to child trafficking, deadly drug smuggling, and literally millions of illegal entries -- all seemingly sanctioned by those in power and not reported by leftist media. Sanctuary cities are now regretting their stance when the reality of what that means sets in. (Can they hear themselves? Do they know that their complaints define hypocritical?)

The United States of America is no longer viewed as the strongest county in the world and the hasty and chaotic departure of troops from Afghanistan has brought shame to our country. The ill-planned withdrawal that included desertion of Americans and those who supported them is unconscionable and an ugly stain on our history. (Where is the weaponry that we also left behind in the mad dash to evacuate? Will that, too be used against us and our allies?)

The high price of gasoline, food and well .. everything essential and nonessential, rising crime as the result of the defund the police travesty, and help wanted signs have replaced weather and the upcoming winter as most popular topics for casual conversation …  and…  it now looks like the government thinks it is okay not to honor debt. (What lessons does this teach? Does fair and equitable matter?)

The FBI and leftist media colluded to block the Hunter Biden story. (Do people know that our current President is a self-confessed plagiarist and that he doesn't seem to think it is a big deal to steal the work of others? How does this relate to his honesty? Can you believe anything he says? Is there a parent in the entire world who does not discuss business/work with their adult children? How scary is it that out President denies ever discussing business with his son?)

It has been confirmed that elite Dems, somehow seemingly beyond the reach of the law, at least for now, were behind the whole Russia collusion hoax. They seem to be guilty of doing everything that they accuse the opposition of doing -- once again. I am not the only person who sees this these days now that the truth has come to the surface. (Why aren’t people talking about it more?)

Stay-at-home, mask, and vaccine mandates have now been proven to be harmful to people. Some continue to deny this.  It is sad what fear can do to good hearted and intelligent people. Fear is a tool to manipulate and to control.

Moronic is becoming part of the new definition of Woke Movement. People are waking up to the damage, narrow mindedness, and injustice of Woke philosophy. (Is Cancel Culture on the way out?) Remember: Freedom above Everything and that means freedom for everyone - even if you disagree with them. The American people need to stand together in this.

One of, if not, the most unfortunate and uncomfortable jobs these days is that of the White House Press Secretary. The American people know when a question is not answered or when a lie(s) is/are being told.  Duh. (How stupid to "they" think we are?)

At times the world seems to have turned upside down and is beginning to spin.  It is not the first time this has happened.  We will see light at the end of the tunnel even if it seems very dark along the way. (Are you able to find your voice?)

In addition to all the aforementioned concerns, decisions need to be made about saving babies, protecting the rights of children, improving  education, as well as about protection of constitutional rights and ways to put America first once again. The list goes on and on.  The future of all Americans depends on decisions that we can help make.   

So -- these are some truths as I know them and a few questions that I think are important.  I am hoping that you might think about them as the Midterm Elections get closer and closer. They are now just a few weeks away. Do your research. Please keep your truths in mind as you head to the polls. Pray that you can believe what politicians say they will work to accomplish.  Exercise your right to vote. Let your voice be heard. Remember... elected officials are supposed to be working for you. You are their boss. (Are they listening to you? If not -- don't vote for them.)

Perhaps it is time for a change – a swing back to better times for the American people.  A swing back can be a step forward.  Fingers crossed. (Have we learned what voting from hatred can do to a country?)   Let us pull together. There are no second-class citizens.  As well as divisive, it is just plain wrong to label people as deplorable or semi-fascist in order to denigrate and to rally opposition. Such behavior is divisive and just plain nasty. It is the propagation of scapegoating, fear and hatred and that is never a good thing for anyone.  Never. Ever. No matter what your point of view.

Not my sweater...

 The words you choose are powerful. So are the words of others.

When describing things that are happening to you, I think you need to be careful of "owning" whatever it is. How many times have you heard others refer to "my" cancer, "my" arthritis, "my" divorce ....? Using these words limits who a person is. Any person is more than their most current challenge(s). Any person is way more than their relationships or lack thereof. To go a step further.. any person is way more than an affiliation with a political party or what church they may or may not attend.  Any person is so much more than a bunch of labels. As the days go by, I remind myself not to "own" these heavy things when I catch myself doing so. I am more than my age, what I do, where I live or even whether or not I line my garbage cans or steam my bathroom floors. 

When you link something to you, it is like that something becomes a sweater that you put on sleeve by sleeve and wrap around you. Or perhaps, something that you carefully stow away in the zipper compartment of your purse or wallet and then carry around with you - always - forever. It becomes then a part of who you are and is so much more difficult to push away or at least off to the side -- or even to put on the shelf temporarily. The label limits and defines ... maybe not in good or helpful ways. The label becomes too heavy.

Choose words wisely ... before they define and limit who you are/how you see yourself.  People are more than their problems and labels  ... so much more.  People are also more than the labels that others hang on them for whatever purpose including the divisive, hateful, and/or vindictive. Case in point ...  I have yet to meet a deplorable or semi-fascist and I have encountered and interacted with a lot of people in my day. Those are labels that I refuse to put on myself or anyone ... not my sweater; not yours either.  

Play it Again #10: "There's an App for That..."

First posted in February 2015  ...and so ends the Play it Again posts....

                               "There's An App for That"

Have trouble making friends or organizing your closet?

Want to learn how to play the sitar or to follow police scanners? 
Need to find info on nearby ghost hunting possibilities or perhaps want to check the McDonald's menu?

It seems that no matter what the desire, interest, or need, there's an app for that.  What interesting times we live in. The words "There's an app for that" are now as familiar or even more so than "Where's the beef?" 

Now that I have figured out what an app is, here are a few questions I have. Who designs apps?  Do you have to go to school for that?  Can you make your own app?  Is there money in doing so? As with so many "techy" things, I am at almost a total loss here.  I sit back and watch. The whole process is amazing.  For example -- in answer to one of my questions -- I saw on TV that one of those, who some might call a workout hunk, hired an app designer to create his own app to demonstrate his muscle building prowess. That he is also showing off his heavily tattooed upper torso and abs, of which he seems to be most fond, is beside the point.  Wear a shirt for crying out loud. (Uh oh  - "I'm sorry.  Did I type that out loud?") -- Apps aside for a moment --- I wish him well with his fifteen minutes of fame.  He is young and doesn't realize that not all men can be Jack LaLanne. He doesn't see "it" (the ab to flab progression) coming.  I think we need to give him some room. It's only kind.  I mean -- what happens to tattoos on a body as a person "matures"? Wait a minute -- Is there an app for tattoo removal?  Probably. Never mind -- problem solved. 

.... I cannot imagine what else new will happen in the field of apps - probably in the next nanosecond. It seems like just yesterday that I was wondering what .com meant or how the Internet could function without wiring. Hang on everybody... this new app phenomenon is opening up new worlds that we never imagined. 

Note... my daughter ran across an app that she suggested I consider for this blog entry.  It is called "Ghost in your photos - Prank" and is described as a "Funny joke to insert ghosts in your photos and cause fear and terror". Sounds like fun to me.  It's free, so of course I had to try it.  My local grandson and granddaughter, delightful imps that they are, relished the thought of participating and of being the subjects of the photo. My daughter handled all the technology -- of course. Okay -- here's the deal.  We had so much fun.... The thinking was that we would send this haunted photo to my son and to my sister and let them discover, with appropriate horror, that there was a creepy shadowy figure lurking about the children. That's exactly what we did. Then we waited with bated breath for their response. No response from either of them. They just commented on how cute the kids are.  Neither my son nor my sister even noticed the long-haired, spooky apparition.  What a disappointment! Huge.... We had to give hints.  Once he "got it", my son was going to see what kind of reaction he could get from my daughter-in-law and other grandson.  I haven't heard back on that as yet. Not easily fooled -- ever, my sister agreed that cabin fever had set in and suggested that we need to get out more. She's right of course. Is there an app for that?


  

Play it Again #9: "Sticks and Stones"

 

First posted March 2021  Still important today....

                                     "Sticks and Stones..."

Please bear with me....  I wrote a couple of weeks ago about aspects of language not to be ignored.  Since then, a few more examples have become popular, and I want to mention them.  There is power in word choice.  There is potential danger in that power. Remember that old adage: "Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me"?  We all know that that is not true.  Words do hurt. Perhaps more realistic is: "Stones and sticks break only skin, while words are ghosts that haunt me." Personally, I would capitalize the H in haunt.

Consider the difference between your mental and emotional responses to the following...  "kids in cages" vs "unaccompanied minors in soft-sided structures", or “crisis” vs “challenge”.  Also, noticeably popular in past weeks -- "illegal aliens" vs "noncitizens" or “crybaby” vs “crybully”.  I am thinking that you definitely see and feel the differences. Why is this important? It is important because... word choices make a difference. Words may be and are used to manipulate thinking. One more serious example that piques curiosity ... why is something called a "Covid Relief Bill" when only 9% or so of the “relief” actually goes toward the “damncovid” situation?  It's a thought-provoking example of word choice as a smoke screen; isn't it?

Remember everyone -- we are not "lemmings to the sea".  (By the way -- that is a myth.  Lemmings are not stupid. These little hamster-like creatures do not rush together and hurl themselves off cliffs in waves of furriness.)  Neither, by the way, are we "unable to see the forest for the trees" as some seem to enjoy believing as they look down and smirk from where they perch above. 

Sometimes I think we get so caught up in trying to adapt and survive that we let things slide or don't pay close enough attention. Plus the fact – most of us are exhausted on some level from living during a pandemic in combination with political upheaval. Now is not the time to let things slide though.  Actually, there is never a time to do that. Keep your eye on Amazon and its new "silent but deadly" book banning. It smells bad to me. 

This mentality is seemingly spreading everywhere.  Just think about Mr. Potato Head and Dr. Seuss if you think I am overreacting.  Play-Doh could be the next target. 

No matter on what side of an issue you are -- no matter to whom you listen or what you believe, it is wise to listen carefully and to "see" the power of language.  Cherish your freedom of speech and that of others. Cherish your independence of thought and uniqueness as an individual. Respect that independence and uniqueness in others. Be word wise.

A closed and small-minded "cancel culture" of any sort is evil. Stand strong. Be mindful. Listen to others. Think. See. Push back. We are all in this together, even though, at times, it may not seem like it. Never forget ... your individual thoughts matter… and so do those of others with whom you may not always agree. Exchange ideas. Talk with others.

You know all of this, I know, but… I just had to write about it.  You are important; so am I. Everyone is. The ideas of an individual are important… so is the voice of each individual. Don’t let these freedoms be taken away from you.

"The smallest minority on earth is the individual.  Those who deny individual rights cannot claim to be defenders of minorities." (Rand)

Enough now....  

Play It Again #8: "Things in Common"

First posted in November of 2014

                                 Things in Common

It is wonderful to find a connection with other generations, but it is not quite the same as having a conversation with someone who remembers a Buster Brown X-ray machine or Bucky Bucky Beaver and at least part of the words to the IPANA toothpaste song that starts with "Brusha Brusha Brusha... with the new IPANA. It's dandy for your teeth."  Or ... remember Farfel's "OH... N-E-S-T-L-E-S, Nestles make the very best --- chocolate"?  (Bet when you read that you were singing it in your head. I know my sister would be.)  Anyway -- when you have things like that in common, it is no wonder that you can communicate with others of your vintage by facial expression or a roll of the eyes. Perhaps each generation has its bonds that tie.  Boomers have a lot more serious bonds than those mentioned above, but today I am thinking about the "you get it" look.

The other day I was talking with an classmate of mine from the high school class of 1967. He is a good guy. We were chatting away and suddenly in mid sentence, I totally forgot what I was saying or where I was going with the idea if I could have remembered what it was.  We just looked at each other and said nothing. I knew that he knew. We both "got it". I am thinking that you may get the drift as well.  After a short silence, we both smiled, and he said quietly, "Yep..."  It's nice when other people understand, when you don't have to explain.   Yep....  
I have convinced myself that the forget in mid-sentence thing is totally not age related. Rather it has to do with running on overload -- so many things to think about -- too much information bombarding at once. I read somewhere that it is called "benign forgetfulness."  I am hanging onto that thought. I love my age...well.. most aspects of it. (It is interesting to step outside of yourself and take a good look at the "aging" process, but that is a discussion for another day.)  What I really like is having a connection with old friends where no explanation is necessary.  It's comforting in a world where a part of the younger generations are beginning to look at you like you are some kind of a dinosaur with wrinkles and white hair.  If they only knew.... They will...before they know it.  There is that.

Play it Again #7 "Beware if Goblins..."

First posted in October of 2021

Still a valid concern to think about today....  

                                      Beware of Goblins...

Remember Chicken Little?  As I recall -- Chicken Little is strutting and pecking around the barnyard when an acorn falls and hits her on the head.  Quick to react, as chickens tend to be, she naturally assumes that the sky is falling and although she has no idea where to go, she runs off to find Lion, who, she is certain, will be able to save them all.  First, she runs into Henny Penny and then Ducky Lucky, and after frantic explanation on her part, they quickly join her in her quest – no questions asked. All three, trusting souls that they are, run blindly off together having no idea where they are going, and are, as such, most relieved to encounter Foxey Loxey along the way. Because he “knows” the way to Lion – or so he says – they trustingly follow him.  Now we all know that they come to a bad end.  The story concludes, “They all go in, but they never, never come out again.”  And so it goes – yet another terribly frightening children’s story -- like “Hansel and Gretel”, or “Little Red Riding Hood”. Then also -- there is the old James Whitcomb Riley poem “Little Orphant Annie”.  Ah… the ever-strong, repetitive line: “An’ the Gobble-uns ‘ll git you ef you Don’t Watch Out! (And … Yes … that is the way that Riley spelled those words. Somehow annoying, isn’t it?)  Anyway – scary stories for children -- cautionary tales all. Anything we could we learn from them? Hmmm…

The thing is ... all of this makes me think of how nice, well-intentioned people are taken advantage of in our current world by much of the print media, visual media and politicians – on every side of an issue.  There is no escape. Like Foxey Loxey, these villains know exactly what they are doing when they focus on the negative and lure people into dens “… from which they never, never come out again.” Journalists and politicians use fear as the grand motivator … fear sells more articles, increases the ever-desirable ratings and gets more votes. Pause and think for a minute of the times you have observed this. Plus, there is the added bonus (especially for politicians) that fearful people are easily controlled and lured into a kind of group think situation. But beware…  and as you may have observed lately and throughout your entire life … groups tend to make more extreme decisions than an individual would ever make. The mob mentality that leads to vandalism and to cities burning is just one such example. Scapegoating the unvaccinated is another.  Group think in the extreme is not a good thing -- ever. It may be because of the safety in numbers “thing”, but group think decisions tend to be not only more extreme, but also more illogical and irrational than those made by independent thinking of individuals. In group think people get swept away – caught up in things. They sometimes regret it later. Their fear, stoked by the Foxey Loxeys of the world, gets the best of them.  They ignore the mutability of Science ...  We all need to beware of Goblins of all sorts ….

The optimist side of me hangs onto the thread that perhaps there is hope that people will learn -- even if it is from a children’s story.  I mean – think of it – isn’t teaching one of the goals of a children’s story like these -- cautionary tales that they are? No one wants to be Chicken Little. No one wants a goblin to get them.  Hopefully it is a small number who want to be Foxey Loxey.  Right?

Play it Again #6: Heart Hugs

First posted in October of 2015

                            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. 

Play it again #5: Sometimes Raising Children Is Like Being Pecked to Death by a Chicken

First Posted in May of 2016

                            "Sometimes Raising Children

                                         Is Like 

                        Being Pecked to Death by a Chicken"

No matter where you live, raising children is not for the faint of heart. Needless to say a sense of humor is a most important survival skill. I find that day to day life is much less stressful when your kids are all grown; you have somehow survived, and now it’s time to enjoy grandchildren – the most wonderful of all creations. I am totally “into” my grandkids, who are, of course absolutely wonderful in every sense – even when the younger ones band together and begin to lurk and skulk about in tandem – silent little Ninjas on an imaginary mission of some sort. If they would start not to be wonderful, I have learned that whatever the problem is, it will pass with a little love to get them through – or - I can always send them home to their loving parents. (Actually I haven't had to do that yet.)

I figure that I am entitled to enjoy my grandkids as I survived raising a son and a daughter… good kids, but they still dragged me kicking and screaming through the usual growing-up challenges – I found myself to be ever captive but … willing to help. I have to tell you that my hair is totally white. The loss of color happened prematurely, and I earned every single white hair. Frankly, I blame it on my son’s four wheeler experiences in combination with a certain fearlessness and his belief in his own immortality and on my daughter’s tendency to love and adopt animals – of all sorts… hamsters, fish, bunnies, dogs, cats, horses. She actually trained an old pulling pony to jump logs. She was about 7 years old at the time, I think -- maybe even younger.

Further -- I feel compelled to mention that the poor driving skills of both of them during the first year or so of having a driver’s license also contributed to my premature white hair phenomenon. My daughter nearly totaled a car shortly after she passed her driving test. I think it may have been one day after. One Day! The terror that comes with that sort of experience tends to hang on for a long time in a mom who tends to worry over even minor things. I will say though that at least she didn’t have speeding tickets in four states in one year like her big brother, so there is that for which to be thankful. By the way -- I no longer ask him about the status of that "tickets in one-year" record. I just assume that he has matured on that front + he lives in a Midwestern state that already has a high speed limit -- one which I find excessive to say the least. What can I say? He comes from a family that has a race car driver in its background. He feels the "need for speed" -- or did at one time.

Nowadays -- I have to admit that I take a certain perverse pleasure in listening to both of my children discussing their child rearing "situations" as well as when they call to ask advice.  I particularly love it that my son called to ask how I handled it when he was out late past curfew which, in truth, was never -- that I know of. He laughed when I told him that I used to go to bed early and set the alarm for 15 minutes before he was supposed to get home, so that I could be at the door to give him a nice long hug and to ask about his evening.  It worked for the most part – both kids knew I would be giving them that hug when they got home.  It was always my hope that they would think about that hug and welcome home talk.  I think they did. Then again – they may have left the house after I went to bed so that I never even knew that they were out – I don’t want to even think about it.  I have told them not to talk of such things in front of me as I am just starting to relax a bit on the worrying front now that they are handling their own stuff and raising their own children.  They are, by the way, doing an excellent job of it all.  (They now ask me nicely not to share their stories in front of their children.  Oh the struggles of temptation….)