One ringy - dingy....

Was taking inventory the other day as I left the house, and I double checked to make sure I had my phone.  No surprise there.  It has become an extension of my being.  I sometimes wonder if the next version will have a way to attach itself to a human brain in some way.  Elon may be working on that as I type.  Who knows?  

Anyway...  I, of course, had the sudden memory of phones when I was a kid.  Back in the day, it was one phone line per household unless you were on a party line and that's a whole other blog. When the phone rang, I would run to the little alcove where the phone sat on a little table -- the phone was attached by a cord to the wall. It was black like all phones back then -- a rotary dial one -- again like all phones back then. There was an uncomfortable little chair in that little wall indentation -- I think purposely uncomfortable to dissuade one from long term sitting. And in my house ... next to the phone there was an egg timer. That annoying little thing was a "touch" thought of by my Dad, a man of few words --- most of the time. 

Here's the scenario.  The phone would ring.  Either my sister or I  (usually me) would run to answer it in the polite way we were trained to do.  Back then phones belonged to a residence, not an individual. If the call was for me or my sister, my Dad would put his newspaper down, get up from his chair and quietly flip the egg timer. His silent message ...  if you can't get it "solved" in three minutes, perhaps in person would work better. Ah memories.... 

On sort of a related note... I miss Ernestine. One ringy-dingy... Two ringy-dingy....

And then there were three...

Mr. and Mrs. Goose have been stopping by my neighbor's pond for several years now. Actually they fly back and forth between that pond and what I call the "horse pond" and the "spring pond" on my property. They seem very intelligent and are definitely very loud. I first noticed them arrive in March of 2018. I heard them coming in for a landing from far off. They come gliding in like those little water planes with the runners.   Anyway --  Each year they arrive about the same time in early Spring and stay for a week or so before heading off to wherever it is they go for the summer. I have always assumed that they fly across Lake Erie into Canada.  Don't know why -- just a hunch.  But this year they have stayed longer, nested, and so far have one little fluffy puff ball of a gosling wandering about with them.  It is fun to watch them parent this teeny creature who was swimming with them shortly after entering this world. My granddaughter enjoys watching them as much as I do and knows a lot about geese... that they mate for life, etc.  She has named the little fluffy puff ball George ...  because that seems a fitting name to her. I agree.

I confess that I have dragged my entire family into this geese watching adventure and we wonder if there will be more goslings soon or if George will be an only gosling. The geese seem to be a nice little family and we figure they will hang around here for a while -- at least until George is ready to fly away with them. Apparently that can take awhile. Maybe this will become their permanent home and they will stay until they migrate south in the Fall. I see a future of a lot of goose poop on my driveway if this turns out to be the case.  Don't mind that really. 

Anyway -- my granddaughter and I also think that their story would make a fun children's book.  We have been observing them and taking as many "phone photos" as possible.  Among her many other talents, my granddaughter is an excellent photographer.  She has been selling her photographs since she was eleven and is now thirteen.  Anyway -- this experience with a goose, her gander and their gosling, George, could really turn into something nice even if it is only in the "shared experience" department. Time shared ... of the Nana and granddaughter variety ...  precious.

  

Love and Deepest Condolences

In October of 2016, I wrote a blog that shared part of a letter written by a friend that I hoped would offer worthy tribute to my cousin, Kathy. In 2018 I shared these same words with the minister who was to speak at my sister's funeral and the words were incorporated into her eulogy. Now in 2024, I share again in hopes that they will help one family in particular and others, no matter where, who are dealing with loss and grief. 

From that blog in 2016:

Many years ago when a dear friend of mine died most unexpectedly, someone forwarded to me a letter that he had written to one of his aunts and uncles following the death of their son.  The words of this letter have remained with me, as some things do from time to time, and today I want to share his idea with you.  I know that people of a certain age have the loss of loved ones in common, and it is my hope that his words will be a help to you at some point as they continue to comfort me. 

In this letter -- my friend wrote that he always found it to be important to take some of what is the best of the person you have lost and to make those qualities a part of who you are or of who you wish to become. In that way -- each one of us lives on in another. It is a bond of love and respect. There is no higher tribute.

~~~~~~

It is with great sadness today that I write in tribute to my friend and neighbor of many years -- Terry Colwell.  Those of you who knew her know that she was an extraordinary person -- a kind and gentle woman, but at the same time, a strong and fierce warrior woman.  I only hope that I will be able to emulate even a little bit of the best that was her and in that be able to live in ways that will be a tribute to her ... one of love and respect.

My love and deepest condolences to her family and her many friends.

Big Brother in Real Time

 

Last Sunday morning, my computer told me that it was Cinco de Mayo.  Never have understood what that is all about. Do the people of Mexico celebrate our fourth of July or any other of the US national holidays?  Also …  my phone told me that same morning that CBS reports that the IRS is about to surge forth in more audits. Apparently they plan to focus on wealthy individuals (especially those over $400,000 who have not paid their taxes) and … large corporations. I’m safe… big time… if the government is telling the truth about this.  We will see.  

My question is.  Who told my computer and phone that I want to know this "stuff"? And isn't it old news anyway?  I sometimes find their morning updates annoyingly intrusive and enjoy deleting them – usually without reading them.  I just can’t figure out how to make them stop coming in. I know how to block ads, but these "news updates" seem "unblockable".  Big Brother in real time.   Boy – I am sounding like an ornery old lady.  Don’t want that. Time to move on to something positive. Then again ...

Just now this very minute, my phone told me that it is syncing with my watch.  Who told it to do that?  My phone also tracks my steps, etc.  I never told it to do that either.  Good grief, Charlie Brown.  No wonder older people long for simpler times. They really were simpler... and less "creepy".

Caught between weather and weeds ...

Still early Spring here in NW Pennsylvania and we are caught between the weather and weeds.  I know that I, for one, find myself itchin' to get outside to pull weeds, pick up sticks, etc. and the rains and soggy, spongy ground are still getting in the way.  Then there is the temperature.  It seems like all the dry days are bone numbing cold (especially tough on hands and feet) and the rest of the warmer days are too rainy off and on to get anything done outside. For those of us who have spent most of every day inside for the entire eight months or so of winter that we have in these parts, these days are long. We stand at the window each day to see if we can see buds on the trees. You know that when you begin to count the number of each variety of birds each day that you have been inside too long.

My grandson came to mow earlier this week as my grass was so tall it was making my home look like an abandoned shed, and he managed to get the job done in spite of too many downed pinecones and branches.  The wonderful person who mows my pasture to keep the tall grasses and undergrowth from spreading through my lawn and covering my house also mowed that day.  He was on and off that old Ford tractor that was pulling his trusty brush hog more times than I could count. I happened to see him several times dragging huge limbs out of the way.  I should have had those branches all cut and in the wood pile weeks ago ...  but ... alas ... too wet.  And -- by the way -- it rained off and on while both were mowing.  Ah Spring in NW PA.

The Farmer's Almanac predicts that we are to have a wetter summer than usual in these parts. Oh goody ...!  Looks like the weeds will win ... again.  It is going to be, apparently, one of those "make hay while the sun shines" summers. We will see.  Good thing we are of hearty stock around here. Good thing skin doesn't mildew.