I recovered

I guess I needed the rude awakening. I got busy and made my doctor's appointments for my mammogram and bone density exams and for a repeat PAP cause I had a questionable one last time. I have had them before so I may be on the way to another colposcopy exam. Anyway, I also found a new dentist and have already been to have my teeth cleaned. The Mammo, etc, is tomorrow.

I bought a Wii and WiiFit so I could exercise at home. I did good for 3 days and then it was a Saturday so I didn't interrupt Jay's morning by doing my exercises. Sunday morning came and it was off to church. Monday came and there was no reason other than I didn't want to get out of bed. I am such a creature of no habit, no routine, no ambition, no perseverance, no focus and no goals. That about wraps me up. I do OK when I have had some successes. I recently got shot down really bad at a time when my energy level was pretty low and it has been hard to rebound. I have had to work to try to shed some very hard words that came my way and I'm really not there yet. That experience invades my thoughts daily, and especially when I am trying to sleep. It has left me with a spirit of resentment that is pretty hard to shake. While I have prayed to be able to forgive it's hard to forget.

Today I'm back on the WiiFit board, gained back a couple of pounds, but it's that kind of weight that can come and go in a day so I'm not discouraged. To be truthful I weigh more now than I have ever weighed in my life. It's pretty hard to admit and to take but I have to keep it all in perspective. I know too much to be fatalistic, but it taking a toll on my body. So I really have to take it one day at a time.

I'm working on some quilting and sewing projects - some Christmas and birthday gifts for family members. I'm tired of working outdoors. Leaf fall is on it's way and soon we will be inundated. The deck will get covered, so soon I will have to rearrange things so it will not be impossible to deal with. A little prevention is needed. So, today is already successful since I got up, exercised, ate breakfast, mended my exercise pants and blogged. And it's only 1:10 p.m. Now, brush teeth, take pills and do more sewing.

A rude awakening

I was just lying there, woozing in and out, hoping for one of those warm, snuggly, almost perfect go back to sleep experiences. We had our first frost warning last night and I had even dealt with the plants. I didn't bring them all in as we are supposed to be in the mid-70's by the end of the week - just gathered them together on the deck under a cover. I coughed a little a couple of times and all of a sudden I had this rush of pain right up into my mouth. It was stomach acid. I jumped out of bed and ran to the bathroom. I knew we had something in there for acid relief and I found two bottles of Mylanta under the bathroom sink. I grabbed one and drank, forgetting to shake, shake, shake. Uck. So I shook, shook, shook and drank again. Read the instructions and drank some more. How much is enough? I was in shock. That has only happened once or twice in my memory but it is once or twice too much. I lay down again - actually sort of sat up - trying to figure out what had caused that. Several things went through my mind - the two Celebrex I take every day for my "joint pain", the wine I had two days ago, the dinner I ate last night (green beans, sliced tomatoes, brisket and mushrooms, and baked sweet potatoes). Finally I decided I knew what I had done. It was the tomato sandwich I ate right before I went to bed. Who knew?

The rest of the time in bed was spent trying to decide if I was going to get up by 9:00 to go across the street to the Senior Center to get my flu shot. I finally must have slipped back into that warm spot I had yearned for earlier and woke up at 10:57. Of course it was too late for the flu shot since that ended at 11:00. I don't know what my problem is except that I considered that I am having some anxiety about a book discussion group I am leading, am going to go to Disaster Mental Health training with the Red Cross soon, and it is heading towards winter. My inclination is to just shelve all my good intentions and hibernate. So, it's still the retirement blues I think. There was something to be said about others making all the decisions. I'll call my doctor's office and schedule an appointment. I need to go anyway.

Thoughts on Cruising

I took a Fall Foliage Tour from NYC to Halifax, Nova Scotia. It was too early and there was not a single fire-kissed leaf anywhere. I also realized that I have been immensely spoiled by living abroad for extended periods of time. Being on a cruise, to me, was like being with the people who lived on military bases and never shopped anywhere but in the American Exchanges or Commissaries, or learned the language, or did anything but take arranged tours to places of interest. I guess the exception was The Netherlands, where there was no family housing and everyone had to live "on the economy." But activities and shopping were, for the most part, confined to the military bases nearby. I was bored. I didn't hang out in the bars or Casino on board, and one can only eat so much. And the lines. I really hate lines. Years ago I decided I would either be first in line or last - or, planning ahead to be in line, taking a book to read while waiting. For a meal I know I will have fewer decisions to make if I go last, because there will be less to choose from - except on a cruise, where the line seems to never end. As often as possible I opted to go to the Dining Room where I could get table service - especially for breakfast. I learned my lesson one morning when I got up for another coffee before I had my last bit of meat and cheese and returned to find my place cleared. Very efficient. Very annoying. They offered to get me more of what I had, but when I returned myself to find the meat and cheese what I had before was not to be found.

I also found that I was glad to never have cruised before. I had nothing to compare my cruise to and could enjoy what I was doing - not constantly comparing this cruise to the 5 or 7 others I had experienced. I actually met someone who had been on 54 cruises - WHY? Can't they cook?

The tours were nice, but the New Scotland can hardly compare with the Old, and there was too little time to muck about in museums, etc. I could have opted to go off on my own in a taxi or on foot, but could not have managed to get to three lighthouses in Portland that way. I did learn interesting historic facts about all the areas, and nice stories about locals. The guides were locals from the villages we visited and it was apparent they were very proud of their little towns and their histories. These were all founded by loyalists transplanted from the lower 13 after the Revolution. They prevailed in very difficult terrain most of which was impossible to farm.

My most exciting moment of each day was to return to the stateroom to see what towel "critter" had been folded by Carlos and placed on my bed. I went to a "towel-folding" class and bought a book. I will be holding a class at the next R-Ranch get-together. It was so entertaining. I also sat through a 3-hour art auction - just for the experience, and did see artwork that I loved. My favorite was an oil portrait of Mohammed Ali. Another artist, named Agam I believe, did wonderful linear work that really appealed to me. Unaffordable but appealing.

I enjoyed the train ride up from Harrisburg to Penn Station and learned how really easy it is to get to the heart of NYC. Getting on the ship and off was easy and I encounter no real delays, etc. Of course, I went armed with my motto of "No expectations and no disappointments." I was not disappointed. I also have little to no desire to do it again - unless my husband is with me. It would be a good adventure for the two of us, and the reasonable price makes it attractive.

Today's Challenges

I do have some challenges today. I won’t go into detail. My purpose in writing is to put into perspective the fact that here I am in all of the glory of the R-Ranch and have been reachable. I have argued against having easy access to telephone service here simply because it is a good excuse to ignore everything that is going on elsewhere. Likewise for TV. However, there are arguments for having the ability to call my husband without having to drive to Dahlonega to “just say hello”, to ask him to change my airline reservation so I can stay another week, to receive messages about various family issues, etc. I can now send email messages from the Lodge or I can sit out in the middle of RV-2 and go on-line thanks to the graciousness of someone who has a Hughes network satellite dish there that does not require a network key. Perhaps there are not as many flies there as at the Lodge. To do this blog entry I decided to write it in Word first and paste it into the Blog when I go on-line. That decision took care of the fact that I don’t want to drag my computer to the Lodge, or anywhere else right now. I am waiting for a visitor that I learned only last night to expect.

I owe Ellen a vote of thanks for telling me about Picasa2, downloadable from Google. I find that it, in combination with my Roxio media management software, allows me to edit photos and transfer them directly to my blog. I owe Terri M. a vote of thanks for encouraging me to buy a digital Walkman and to learn to transfer music onto it to accompany me on my walks. Actually, more than anything, I am enjoying listening to the local FM radio station on it as much as anything. It’s just a little dynamite of a music machine. Lastly, I owe my husband so much. I am so grateful that he is so generous in his encouragement of my travels, and never complains when I am not at home to be with him. I am enjoying my respite alone – for a few more hours- here at the R-Ranch. Just finished reading Brother Odd by Dean Koontz. He is such a delightful writer. Start reading about Odd Thomas in the first book by the same name. There are three in the series. Do it especially if you are an Elvis fan. On to my next chore now – some retrospective blogging about recent trips to California and Florida. I seem to be behind. Pea

The Power of a Table

I have been writing about my outdoors and it has gotten even better. I found a great table at Rite Aid, of all places, for $46.00. It has all the requirements - four legs and a top - a great glass top, and the best part, the requisite hole in the middle! Now I can encircle the hole with my nifty lazy susan with all its little compartments for goodies, and put the umbrella in the middle. I can sit outside and read my book with a place to put my coffee. I was there earlier this evening and could imagine how people sit at a table in pleasant weather and write whole books. I am thinking about taking my computer outside and seeing what happens. I just need a longer extension cord. I am rather limited here at Horror House by boxes that contain electrical outlets - but no juice. So we plug cords in inside and drag them under doors - trying at the same time to keep either the warm air in or the cool air in and the bugs out. One day I found an orange cat had strolled in the front door and was wandering around the dining room. There's a story there.

When I was at the University of Kansas I rented two rooms in a house - upstairs. My bedroom was an old sleeping porch with leaky windows and it was cold, cold, cold. I saved enough Green Stamps from my grocery shopping and was able to redeem them for an electric blanket. I went home, remade my bed with the new blanket and snuggled in with my textbooks to study. I left my door open to the hallway so I could get some more heat. All of a sudden this big orange cat walked in my door, hopped up on my bed and proceeded to pee. Then it hopped down and ran out. It was just horrible. I have hated orange cats ever since. The cat in my dining room surely sensed that for it ran out the front door immediately. Yes - I had a flashback - it was PTSD!

But I'm loving my deck and my table and another new bird feeder - and my soul is being fed.

Grow and Buy Locally

I am endeavoring to stick to my plan to raise edible food and buy what I can't grow. That adds up to everything (minus two tomatoes, two zucchini squash and a lot of lettuce and cilantro).

My garden is coming along and today I discovered three or four tiny Roma tomatoes on a plant. I have melons traveling up a fence and ginormous zucchini and yellow squash plants. Onions and carrots are coming along. My fallback plan is to shop at the roadside veggie stands and fill in from the grocery store. I located a great farm stand near our house so I go there first to see what is available, then go to the grocery store. Yesterday I found lovely tomatoes, peppers, fresh parsley, blackberries and cucumbers. Cukes were 75 cents each vs. 99 cents at Giant. I bought two boxes of tomatoes, one red and one yellow. I paid $7.00, but would have paid over 10.00 at Giant. Today I made Tabbouleh salad with the tomatoes, cucumbers, onions from another day, and fresh chopped mint and parsley. It is ever so much better than what I make from the box. I want to encourage my faithful readers to cook from scratch because it is gratifying and tastes better. My veggies looked so beautiful in the basket that I had to share. Here is a picture of my bought locally goodies.

I have also always loved daisies and am happy to report that I now have my own patch - another gift from the house. I have planted Black-eyed Susans and also have yellow Shasta daisies in the bed near the deck. Will share those at a later date. Hope you are encouraged to cook and eat well and watch birds and flowers.

Is being profound a necessity or an indulgence?

I'm giving some thought to writing and its purpose. Its purpose can be to share information, to put thoughts into words for review and reflection or to lay a foundation for further thinking. I think I do a lot of writing to share information about myself and how I live. I hesitate to put in too much identifying information but find that some is necessary to eliminate confusion and misunderstanding. Some writing is for documenting events either in depth or simply to note that they occurred. I think a great deal of my writing that is not just news-sharing falls into the review and reflection category.

Some writing that does not appear here ends up in other peoples mailboxes. I read a book by John Lescroart called Betrayal. I didn't like some of his foundational material about the treatment his main character received at Walter Reed Army Medical Center, where I used to work. He wrote some very unflattering words about conditions there, and some very misleading words about the capacity and capabilities of the hospital. I decided to write to him to tell him how I felt about those characterizations but also my understanding about the nature of writing for effect. I haven't received a return message, and may never - but, he opened this can of worms and I have decided that he needs to recognize the efforts of staff there in some meaningful way. He earns money from selling those books and some of it needs to go back to the source of his information - or at least the use of WRAMC as a source. I think I wrote to institute guilt, and maybe a little embarrassment. He is a performer as well and has a record label called CrowArt. Maybe he will go sing. I don't think a book signing would go over all that well. I just want him to not forget what he has learned about Traumatic Brain Injury and PTSD, especially from Improvised Explosive Devices (IEDs) and Rocket Propelled Grenades (RPGs). In some way I felt that he was exploiting the damage they do to make a good story. It was a pretty good story but fell just a little short of doing what was needed in my opinion. Of course I told him that in my message.

So, writing in this context was for beating my own drum. I'm writing about this now to review and reflect on my actions. Question: Do I wish I hadn't written to him? Definitely NO. I am pleased that I did so because it helped to put to rest my feelings about a small part of what he wrote and remember the book as something that was otherwise a well-crafted and enjoyable read.

Catching Up With Myself

Today is Friday and I finally have a day off. It has been a very busy month, this month of June. No one I know got married but two very significant events occurred. One was the high school graduation of Emily Rose, the eldest daughter of my niece Brenda. There was a large gathering of relatives at their home - with grandparents from California, great-aunt and uncle, aunts, uncles and cousins. In the midst of it all the father of Brenda, Terri and Lori died in Colorado. So the gathering had its ups and downs. I guess I am blogging about this simply to make it a moment in time. Brenda had produced a booklet called "The Wilson Girls" with pictures of the three with their father. When I looked at it I became very emotional (mostly inside) but with a few outside tears. This was a man I had known as a child. I guess we were all children to tell the truth. He became a parent, as did my sister, and three lovely children were produced. Then he left. The events over the years of their rearing and experiences could fill many pages, and they do fill many hours of story telling. Their story cannot be that different from that of many other families and as I think about that I feel almost overwhelmed at the thought that there are so many stories in the world. I think all of them are worth telling - but who would ever have time to read all the stories if they were written. I guess that is why they stay in families - to be told over and over again as families get together for graduations and funerals.

People are remarkable in their accomplishments and our family is no different. I think the children in the family will go on to achieve and not achieve, each to their own abilities. As the family continues to spread, like a pebble falling in a pond, there will be many stories. I hope I get to hear the good ones. The bad ones make me feel sad. I, personally, try to find the greatness in everyone and try to find the reasons why everyone cannot be the first, the greatest, the most talented, the richest. Most of them are OK just like they are. I think that is enough reflection for today. I am taking a break.

What's in the smoke?

I, admittedly, am dangerous around fire. I have the scars to prove it. A long time ago I swore off lighter fluids and have perfected the art of starting my charcoal fires using a chimney charcoal starter. If you don't have one - get one, unless you don't have a grill, then you don't need one. I have to thank my friend and colleague, Hal Forman, for introducing me to this miracle of fire. It is, first of all, a no-brainer. Secondly, it always works, as long as you can set paper on fire. I never use starter fluid. I don't like to use charcoal because of the benzopyrines, but I left my propane-fired, second-hand grill behind with the next-door Mormons in Germany. I think that is what I did. Maybe it went to Rita's along with the dogwood tree. Anyone with the answer is welcome to set me straight.

I have in my possession the beautiful royal blue Weber grill I bought on Easter Sunday at the Exchange at Vogelweh. It has a few more chips of enamel off the outside but all in all it is in great shape. In addition to that I have our CharBroil Smoker. Since moving to Pennsylvania I have been able to find all of its parts. That is what this blog is about. I am trying to learn how to use the smoker. Last week I shopped at the the market for the first time in many weeks. In the process I bought turkey burgers, chicken sausages, tuna steaks, butterfly pork chops and the buy one get one free specials - pork roast, London broil and chicken breast with back bone. A lot of meat.

For the Memorial Day feast I cooked on the Weber grill - the sausage, burgers, chops and tuna steaks. I forgot to mention the butterflied shrimp. I offered my honey whatever he wanted. He was a happy camper and had plenty to take to work in his lunch. It was really good I have to admit. Last night we had all the leftovers from the week. Today, after having read up on using a water smoker I fired up the CharBroil. Somehow I just kept remembering how much Harry and my mother liked using the smoker. I may be wrong, but I think that is why I bought one in the first place - because they liked it. I think I got this one from the Navy Exchange when we were in La Maddalena. I think I used it once. In the interim, being packed up and moved around, it got sort of bent out of round, so when I used it today I wasn't at all sure it was working right. But I fired it up anyway, following the instructions from various videos and descriptions I had watched and read on the Internet.

I put six chicken breasts and a pork roast in the smoker along with a pan full of water, vinegar, juniper berries, rosemary, thyme, summer savory, onion and apple. No particular "recipe" - just what I had on hand. After many hours of adding hickory chips soaked in water and coals I was not very confident that I was going to have meat that would not kill us when we ate it. To make sure it was OK I made up one last chimney full of coals and finished off the meat in the Weber grill. I think that eventually the meat would have been OK, but I was a worried novice. So, after testing each piece with the thermometer I concluded we were safe. I swooped them all into to the house and proceeded to carve. It was just yummy. I'm pretty ready to try it again, but know a lot more than when I started. One of the things I know - which I read somewhere, was to not hang out the wash before you start up the smoker. Only I forgot that and now Jay will get to wear his dinner to work every day until the next wash day. The price for being green.

Now I have all kinds of protein stored away for future use. One of my discoveries since moving here was the freezer in the basement. Kim cleaned it recently and we have fired it up. Seems it works just fine and now I have a place to store my future excess from the garden.

I have not met some of my goals set in earlier weeks, but one thing I have done is to make myself an outdoor haven to enjoy. While waiting for the last of the meat to come off the grill I sat back with a glass of wine and watched the mama Robin feed her baby in the spot we had just tilled for the herb garden. Tomorrow I will cover the tilled dirt - currently full of worms and goodies enjoyed by the birdies - with weed block plastic, and put in my herbs. I have actually grown Italian parsley from seed, and curly parsley and cress and cilantro. They are in the other garden but I am moving them to the home of the herbs where they will live with rosemary and thyme and sage - purple sage at that. My garden is a song.

So - as for what is in the smoke - there is learning, memory, smell, taste and a sense of satisfaction - along with anticipation of what tomorrow holds.

Helplessness but not hopelessness

I went out for coffee and a bagel this morning, as I sometimes do, to break the monotony of being at home. I go to the Coffee Express, a little hot spot in Pickletown, where large and small groups gather in the morning for meetings, chat and breakfast. There is a TV with closed captions that I usually watch because I am not a part of the Coffee Express crowd. It's enough to know the owner who is a friendly entrepreneur with a rather thriving business (she puts mustard on my bagel and sausage sandwich for me.)

I watched part of Good Morning, America with a crowd of people jumping and waving in Bryant Park in NYC. It is Fleet Week there and lots going on. There was some local news and weather, including an update on a 24-year-old Iraqi amputee who is missing in the Susquehanna River near York, PA.

I was suddenly in need of writing about my state of mind in general, and world events in particular, so this is what spilled out.

In the coffee shop
People jumping up and down on TV
There's a man missing on the river
His arms are in his boat.
A great wind just blew through Colorado
and there's sickness in Myanmar.

All around the people talking
Some choosing shade grown fair trade
There's a man missing on the river
His arms are in his boat.
Rain is pouring on the city
and there's no rice in Myanmar.

They just built another house in Louisiana
and celebrated with tears
The cameras have gone home now
and the city left behind.
There's a man missing on the river
His arms are in his boat.
There's no hope for those crushed in China
and no clean water in Myanmar.

I can drink the coffee black
and watch the people talk
There's a man missing on the river
His arms are in his boat.
I can't go to China, Colorado or Louisiana
or make them happy in Myanmar. (c) Patricia G. McKellar, May 23, 2008

Impulsivity and Good Works

I am beginning this with this photo because it is symbolic of how our hearts and mouths can get us into predicaments that are challenging. I am in an on-going discussion with Ellen about finishing projects. She admires me because I seem to be able to finish things and she finds that difficult for herself. I believe that I am an unreliable person that cannot be counted on to do what I say I will do. Because of that I hesitate to "sign up". At least that is what I think. I have a penchant for offering help and then becoming bogged-down in the execution.

My most recent example is offering to make covers for kneelers for the Chapel at the R-Ranch. The R-Ranch is a form of intentional community we have chosen for recreation and relaxation. The problem is that it offers me precious little relaxation. I have some skills and talents and even vision that others often lack. I think that is due to my environment, my experiences and the fact that I was reared with the rule "Can't never could do anything." So, in addition to making the rather rustic looking cushions for the Chapel I offered to also make a cover to be used at weddings. It is a lovely place for a smallish ceremony, seating only about 60-75 people. I could not imagine having a ceremony there with a kneeler at the altar rail that was covered with neutral and brown, woodsy colored fabric.

I shopped for fabric last weekend and found a nice white satin to cover a 66" X 10.5" foam cushion. I found that the piece I bought was not quite long enough and needed some "fiddling with." It has to be removable so it can be stored. That meant that at least one of the other covers has to be removable as well. And, to make them match, they all have to be removable. So that meant zippers. Zippers come in various lengths, and the nearest length I found was 72". See the problem? This is "growing like Topsy" as I used to hear my mother say. It is like taking one of those tiny little dried, compressed sponges that you drop in the tub with your kids and they swell into a 5 foot long fish that throws the kids out of the tub.

Last night I decided that I could sew a few more inches on the machine instead of doing the finishing touches by hand. I was going to be able to make the satin cover removable after all (that had been in doubt because of the length of the zipper). I put it aside until this morning. I felt good - like I was not in over my head. I went to bed, slept well and got up ready to do it right after cereal and coffee. It began to go well, but I kept going back over work I had done by hand, extending the amount of work I had intended to do. It is called perfectionism and not knowing when to stop, another thing of which I have been accused. Just go over this last little part to fasten it down - and BAM - the result in the picture! My machine is a slant needle model, not a curved needle model. I hit the damn zipper. I want to quit.

My discussion with Ellen has included her desire to write and not being able to finish, and my approach to writing. I have a topic. I start. I review. I try to limit it to the topic at hand and not digress. I check my spelling. This is a perfect example. This bent needle is characteristic of the things I run into that could make me quit-the topic. I have made a commitment to others, however, so am going to have to stick with it. Rather, I have made a commitment to myself-the real issue and body of the story. That is something else she has taught me. I don't do it for others. I do it for myself. To feel satisfaction about finishing what I have started. I have to go upstairs and get another needle. I have to get out of this chair and go upstairs and get another needle. I have to. I want to.

The coat of many origins

A number of years ago I lived in Germany with my sister. We had very little furniture as most of my furniture had gone to Italy with my husband for his house there. I got a job in Germany, instead of Italy, so the reason for no furnishings. So we set out to find things by going "junking". We were the recipients of living room furnishings that were to go to the street for junking but took a detour to our house instead. The coverings were fuzzy, old, cut velvet type stuff that was just UGH! And an awful yellow green color. While attending a flea market I happened upon a man who had bolts of flax and hemp fabric that had been hand-woven in homes in East Germany until the 50's when hemp was outlawed - I guess they thought it was marijuana. After the wall came down this man went around buying up the stockpile of this now very desirable fabric to sell to folks like me. I bought as much as I could afford. It was not very wide - about 40 inches - because of the size of the looms that could be kept in a house. These bolts were sold to the factories that manufactured the shirts, sheets, tablecloths and duvet covers for the masses. The weave differed, as did the weight of each. I was fascinated, of course, since this was such a treasure trove into the lives of people - just up my little anthropological alley.

My sister liked the stuff as well and we set out to make vests lined with wonderful fabrics from another treasure trove of fabric that I brought to Germany. I still have those upstairs in my closet and hope to finish them some day. However, as we visited other flea markets and fests and places we began to pick up other pieces of linen and coverings that Ellen decided to turn into a cover for the living room furniture. She worked like a Trojan, cutting and pressing and piecing and sewing. A few articles of clothing went into the work as well. In the end she covered a three cushion sofa, a chair and an ottoman.





But, alas, I had to return to the States, so I left all of that furniture behind with Ellen. She moved into an apartment and took the furniture with her. After a couple of years she had an opportunity to buy some really nice leather living room furniture, so she removed all of the covers from the furniture, packed them up and mailed them to me. I was overjoyed at her thoughtfulness but really didn't know quite how I was going to use the fabric. Last year we visited Spain together and in a shop I found a coat I really liked. It was quilted and warm and comforting. I was determined to duplicate it and to use some of the natural fabric that remained from the original stash. However, at some point it occurred to me that I should use the wonderful patchwork for it. I spent a very long time taking the piping off of the pieces and eventually had yards of it rolled up in balls, along with pieces of sofa and chair cover in bags and boxes. In the middle of this I moved - to a much colder climate. I thought I should hurry to get this coat made, so in January I visited Ellen with the bags and boxes and pattern so that she could help me put together the fabric to be cut into a coat. We again pieced and sewed and cut.

One of our cousins many times removed, Fran, visited while this was in progress. She is an accomplished quilter. Boy was that a blessing. She gave us many tips on how to move forward with the project. After I came back home I left the stuff to rest for awhile, but winter was still needing a warm coat. I drew all of the lines on the coat with disappearing ink and spent many hours quilting all of the pieces. I learned so much - mostly that I could do it. In the process I decided that I would sew the piping back into the seams. That was a great idea, until I started doing it. However, I had started it and had to finish. So, if you examine the pictures you will see the piping clearly. Sewing over those lumps took a thing called a "jean-a-ma-jig", a thingy Fran told me about.

One problem was preserving some of the characteristics of the original pieces. In the picture of the ottoman you will see a ribbon tied into a bow. That was originally a tie on a duvet cover. When we cut out the coat it was at the lower edge of one of the sleeves. When it came time to finish the coat the sleeve was about 6 inches too long and I, sadly, had to cut it off.

I loved that feature and am still trying to figure out what to do with it. There was some lace from a tablecloth that I have not been able to use yet. Perhaps they will be framed. If you have any suggestions let me know. One of the features of using old garments is that there are often flaws. The pocket on the left side of the coat has a very worn spot patched with another piece of fabric behind it. That pocket came from one of Ellen's old, comfortable dresses. In the back, where three pieces of fabric were pieced, there was a very big boo-boo, made by me. Ellen came up with the perfect solution when she found this big red button at a yarn shop in Roswell, GA (The Cast-on Cottage). I used cording and sewed it on. I'm just glad I won't have to sleep on that big lump.

So, the coat is finished. It is warm, but it is May. When Fall comes I will happily begin wearing it. I wish it fit better, as it is rather large in the lapels, but overall I think it is going to be great with jeans or other pants and my snow boots as I slog through the Pennsylvania weather to the Library and coffee shop in greater metropolitan Picklesburg.

Bird Count

I'm not really counting birds - but I am counting my blessings. Today I worked my buns off building a new "step" off of our deck. It is actually a temporary replacement for the very precarious footing to exit our deck to the yard. After I removed it from it's location at the exit from the deck to the back yard I discovered that the former owner had no reservations about burying his trash under the deck. While raking out dirt from a newly discovered concrete structure at the edge of the porch I discovered pieces of wood, lengths of pipe, some sheet metal somethings and - a pair of socks. One sock would have been no surprise, but two matching socks -that was really different. Of course, since I am such a "sock warrior" I was tempted to rush them to the washer but I resisted. What was a blessing was the fact that I built this new "step" from materials that I found in the garage. I also did some creative wood cutting with my old, but trusty, Craftsman Skil Saw. Even I was impressed after I ripped a 2X6 to the size I needed. And, I did it on the saw horses I had constructed myself. You should see my work - it's getting better, but I will admit that I am no pro.

One of the things I have committed to is making things plumb and level. It paid off today when I sat the new base for the step on the concrete "pad" and had very little to do to make it not rock and roll because everything was not square. It does make sense and you will not find me out carpentering without a level or construction square nearby.

After I had screwed the piece of "sub-flooring" that used to be the ramp onto the porch to the base, I began to clean up. I used to laugh at my nephew, Dwayne, because he could get out more tools in 10 minutes than I owned. Well, at the end of this job I thought I had him beat. I groaned when I realized that I had to put away two cordless drills, two sawhorses, a shovel, a SkilSaw, an extension cord, a hammer, nails, trash, a dolly, excess pieces of wood, two empty Coke Zero cans, the stuff for the compost pile, etc., etc. and etc. Because I am a one-woman show and have only two arms and one back I got most of it done but asserted myself and left the sawhorses on the back porch. Then I had to put out the trash and recycling. I did it! and collapsed into a chair to watch the birds. Thus the bird count.

I have been keeping track of what is coming to our backyard to feed. We have grackles, house finches, goldfinches, robins, doves, some pretty little grey juncos, a pair of cardinals - but, alas, no JAYBIRDS! Well, today my goal was reached when finally Mr. Jay showed up to eat. I felt that we now were complete - did I mention the squirrels and the rabbit? I am declaring that we are a Certified Wildlife Habitat - except for the deer and bears. I'm working on the butterflies and bees. We do have some of the big bumbles, but too few honeybees. I'm going to do my part though. I have lots of annuals to put in their flowerboxes, and some perennials on the way at the end of the month. Did I mention the garden? I figured out today that I have spinach. I am so excited. By the end of the week I may have a little crop of baby spinach to go with the mesclun that is bigger every day. So, not only is the bird count up so are my spirits. And - I can step down without fear. Please come for a visit.

Not so friendly Friendship Cake

Have you ever been presented with a gallon Ziploc back with about a cup of goo in it called "Friendship Cake"? Well, as soon as you took it into your possession the person who gave it to you breathed a HUGE sigh of relief. Sure, they told you "It tastes great! Just follow the directions for each day." So I took it, and kept it on the front seat of the car on my way home from Georgia. My problem was that on the day I was supposed to add sugar and milk and flour I was in a hotel room in Dobson, NC. Do you know where that is? In the middle of nowhere NC. So by the time I got home and dragged myself, luggage, dirty clothes, computer and cooler and the bag of goo I had mushed daily, into the house, did I care what day it was? NO.

The next day I added the three things needed, after I mixed up milk from the dried milk in the cabinet. I mushed for three or four more days until today when I discovered it was Day 10, or in my case, Day 11, and time to bring the "Friendship Cake" to fruition. I started adding things I didn't even know I had. First I had to add ingredients so the batter could be divided into four more portions to be foisted on unsuspecting "friends." Well, first, I don't have any friends in this town, or this Commonwealth, as Pennsylvania is called. I guess I could drive to Brenda's house in Allentown (I had considered visiting for a few days). But that wasn't even necessary I found when I started looking for four gallon sized Ziploc bags to put one cup of goo in. So I put all four portions in the old bag given to me by my "friend." Next, I had to add more stuff to the remainder of the goo. When it came to the cup of oil I took a bottle from the cabinet and let 'er rip. As I closed the bottle I thought "my that has a sort of nutty fragrance." I looked at the bottle and saw that it was oil saved from my deep fat fryer in which I had made chicken wings for husband's birthday in February. Oh well. It was too late now. I kept adding things until I saw that I needed a large box of instant vanilla pudding. What the H___! But, my cabinet even gave up two regular boxes of sugar free instant vanilla pudding. OK. My good fortune - until... The recipe called for the batter to be divided into two loaf pans and baked at 325 degrees for an hour. Well, I didn't have two loaf pans - and I had an appointment to get my hair colored in York at 2:30. It was 12:30 and it takes about 40 minutes to get there. So, I found four round cake pans and discovered I had to grease them and dust them with a mixture of sugar and cinnamon. This would be about the 3rd or 4th cup of sugar added to this stuff since Day 6. What friend would ever give anybody something that has that much sugar in it - added to the cup of fried chicken oil. A surefire heart attack in the making. So, I divvied up the batter into the four pans I dusted, and put them in the oven. I got dressed, ate lunch, and an hour later pulled the Friendship Cakes from the oven. They were about an inch high. I slapped one into an aluminum pie pan I found in the cabinet, left the others on the stove, and ran for the car. On my arrival at the salon I put the cake down on the front desk and the receptionist asked what it was. I said it was Friendship Cake and to prove it I had not brought them a cup of the batter to mush for 10 days and then try to figure out what to do with it. The receptionist said I was indeed a friend, as she had been through that one already. She offered me a piece with a cup of coffee. The owner got me the coffee and the cake never appeared, although one person told me it was really good. I wondered if they could taste the fried chicken in it. I gave another one to my neighborhood guys, but gave them no batter as they can barely make it to work on time and eat off of their grill in the back yard. Only two to go. New secret ingredient - fried chicken oil. Final word - only the Amish have the secret to starting the batter. I have the secret to ending the batter - it is going in the toilet.

Wonderful weather here

The most wonderful thing happened this morning. I laid in bed anticipating another day of yard work, after breakfast, coffee and bird-watching. Much to my surprise, and joy, when I opened my blinds to see the backyard it was raining! Yeah - I'm saved. I was so tired last night after doing-in almost two weeks worth of grass in the back yard that I could barely move. So, I took my towel, coffee and cereal out under the eaves, dried off a chair, and proceeded to watch the birds. All of the time my mind was on blogging and poetry. So, I think this will be a pretty long offering.

Update on the R-Ranch and the Butterfly Garden. I worked hard on it, raking out all of the winter leaves and old mulch, tying down the spent foliage on the daffodils, mourning the loss of a pink coneflower and the deer-eaten red tulips, putting in new plants and herbs and renewing the mini-nugget mulch for the season. Here is a picture as it was a couple of days before I left.

Update on the Spelling Bee - I did not win. I could have won had I not gotten cocky. I was third because I did not take the time to review the letters that had already rolled off my "smart" tongue - "pleur" for pleurisy. I left out the "i" and clearly pronounced "sy". I am still mad at myself. I should have won. I could have won. I would have had more attention, bragging rights and things to mess up my schedule. I did not feel a sense of relief; I was not embarrassed, only piqued at my "cockiness." We were not even into the difficult word list yet. And - I've had pleurisy. It hurts. This is the only way I would ever want to have it again - in a Spelling Bee. I learned a lesson. I liked the venue, and I do want to do it again. The winner and runner-up had to have been 15 years older than I. However, I did get a $20 Borders gift card. There is a book I have been wanting, so I feel fine about that.

Speaking of books, did you know that at the Dollar Store you can buy books for one dollar? They are the left-overs from Wal-Mart, etc. That's where I got the last Dunning book I read. Forgot to tell you that. Why pay more? Then I remembered the Library, where I pay nothing. Oh, well - so much for economy.

About poetry. I had a poem forming in my mind right before I came inside for a refill on my coffee. It was once again about rain and worms. I just love the way that worms come out in the rain. This was sparked by the sight of a bird flying by with a worm in it's beak. I'll give it some more thought.

The Garden - vegetable part. We delayed our recent trip to Georgia so that we could plant the seedlings I had grown. When I returned the other day I could see very little progress, and practically nothing that even the rabbit would have eaten. There is some tiny lettuce. My neighbor, Henry, has big bunches of stuff. I am tempted... It looks as if I will be getting plants from the highschool horticulture class to put in - at least the tomatoe, peppers and beans. I do have onions coming up. The good news is about water. Before I left I bought two 60-gallon rain barrels and got one hooked up to the down spout from the garage gutter system. The other is right below the downspout from the house and doesn't require a direct hook-up. Both were full so I was able to 1) hook up a hose and soaker hose and water the quite dry-looking vegetables (or non-vegetables), and 2) I was able to fill the watering can from the other and water the deck plants. I do feel a sense of accomplishment and feel quite "green". Today's rain will refill the barrels and there will be rain everyday for the next 10 days, according to the forcast. Next green project will be the solar power for the garage - in the green category.

The Garden - flower part. I have huge weeds with stickers on them. Part of the work today was to dig them out. Actually, it will be easier to remove them from the wet ground, so God did me a favor. The Shasta Daisy foliage must have tripled in size during the time I was away. I always wanted Shasta Daisies. I am thrilled about this. The peonies are getting big buds on them; I always wanted to have peonies as well. And-to my surprise and joy, when I returned I saw that the next door neighbor has a lilac tree that hangs into my yard. I love Lilacs. These are some of the redeeming factors about the house (I'm working on feeling more positive about it). I drove over to York for the Spelling Bee, and the whole area is blooming with every color of lilac, and I saw more pink dogwoods than ever down South. Another of my goals is to have a pink dogwood in my yard. I'm just waiting to determine the right spot for it. All the blooms make a big mess - like the double cherry in my front yard, but it is really a beautiful place. I can't wait until my new perennials are ready to put in the ground. They are currently being nurtured at the local highschool by the horticulture students.

Since it is raining, I cannot hang out laundry - which is a need. Back to the dryer. I will be able to work inside the garage, clearing away more dust, rearranging, hauling lumber up-stairs, and getting the stairway ready to paint. That is my goal before Jay returns from his latest trip - that and stripping the wallpaper from the upstairs bathroom and painting it. Thank God for rain.

First Load

I wish I could explain the ambivalence I felt when hanging out my first load of wash in my own back yard on my own, personally constructed clothesline. Lots of memories of childhood when I did this as a regular thing. Lots of frustration because clothespins just ain't what they used to be. Some doubt about committing myself to this way of life, but reminding myself that the sheets will be nice and unwrinkled coming off the line, I would be saving money and I liked the way they looked. I hoped I would like the way they felt. It was a remarkably warm day for this time of year I heard. There was a breeze and the clothes billowed toward the fence. I hoped the dog next door did not attack when the sheet blew over the fence.

My dilemma is whether or not to use my "collectible" clothespins or not. I guess I would feel more connected to my labors if I had real satisfaction in pinning the clothes up so they would stay instead of being frustrated with cheapy clothespins that exploded off the line as I tried to secure a pair of socks or pants. I even have a wonderful, old clothespin bag that I can put on the line. I just want to keep it in good repair. This must seem so trivial to my readers - unless they are old enough to relate to the feelings that come with gathering these fresh smelling clothes into your arms and running inside before it starts to rain. Or, folding each piece as it comes off the line so there are absolutely no piles gathered in the house. It's a different life. I think I'm going to like it. Have a great laundry day!

Progress is slow but progress nonetheless

Learning about chain link fences was my task on yesterday. They look hard, but as with everything in life, if you break it down into manageable parts, it can be conquered. The fence with which we were left, I found on close examination, was being held up by bag ties and rope. So, I bought fence ties - short aluminum pieces that can be wrapped through the top of the fence around the rail and through the fence again. It took awhile but my husband pronounces the fence as "looking better". Then I tackled the sagging gate. Find the right wrench and you have it made - if you can find bricks to hold up the gate while you loosen the parts, bang on them with a hammer to get them in the right position and then tighten them again at the right level. I will say that on Sunday I eliminated one piece of rope holding up the fence by our back gate and today made things right with the front gate. It was dragging on the ground but now swings freely. However, I learned that some things take two hands, so I have one piece of fence that will keep the next door dog in her yard until I get help.

I admit the fence was rather unsightly - but never believed the next door neighbor, who rents from her father, would have the nerve to come out while I was working on it and say "I was going to talk to you about that to see if you could do something about it." I told her that what she sees is what she gets - that my tax bill was so enormous that I was lucky to afford the fence ties. I had gotten a clue to her feelings when her husband had said she was talking about a "privacy fence" before we moved in. I will be happy for the happy renters to construct one for themselves - then I will have privacy. I did not work on the fence for her - I worked on it for ME. I still have some work to do but this body can tolerate only so much.

We got several quotes on having junk hauled away - ranging from 325 - almost 500 dollars. After turning down the bid left by 1-800-got-junk we got a call from them (I think) saying they would do it for $300. I believe that is more reasonable and they are coming on Friday. Just think, I will have bare floor to walk on in my room above the garage. Now I can prime the steps and get them painted and I will have the beginnings of my CREATIVE CENTRUM! Next is getting the garage wired and insulated and walls put up, painted, etc., and I can start moving stuff out of the house. I'm hoping the wireless will make it through the walls. JOY

I am studying for the Spelling Bee. I learned that there is a National Spelling Bee in Cheyenne, Wyoming in May. Actually there are a lot of people who take this very seriously and the winning word last year was "bharal". I have lists of words. I think my advantage is having lived and eaten in many countries, planted many varieties of flowers, and having worked in the medical field. So many of the words fall into categories of food, plants and body parts or functions, or the medicines to fix diseases. I have words for which I need to find definitions, but can't find my unabridged dictionary. I am going to have to look them up online or go to the Library. But the Library doesn't allow coffee inside, so I guess I am going to have to opt for the computer at home. Do you know the definition for "philippic"? Or for whinge, kakemono or cred? Easy to spell if they can be defined or pronounced. I'm on it.

Not flying girl

I could have gone to fly today but I chose not to. I am 1) recuperating from the construction of the compost bin, 2) too blitzed from not enough sleep, and 3) watching the Master's. Since it is the first tournament of the golf season I will be able to follow the players for the rest of the season better. I am not a golfer. I am, however, a fan of those who are good at it. I don't much care for anyone else who plays. It is an emotional sport to watch and I'm sure, to play. So much history, and it is so international in nature. Speaking of nature, the winds are gusting to 30 mph at Augusta, and providing a challenge beyond what is already a tense day of play. But enough about that.

I was out late last night after retrieving my husband from the airport. Usually I just drive around until he appears at the curb, but last night I parked and went into our "international airport." His bag was lost between Boston and Chicago, so it got later and later. Then I still couldn't sleep. So I was up at 4:30 a.m. reading and trying to nap after I finished my latest book. It is by John Dunning, called 2 o'clock eastern wartime. Dunning wrote the Bookman's Wake and Booked to Die, two books I enjoyed very much and learned so much while reading about first editions, etc. Well worth reading. This latest book is not an easy read, but worth sticking with. It is about radio in 1942, with a murder or two thrown in. Intriguing.

The compost bin was a lesson. I got pallets from Ace Hardware and l-brackets that were too short and screws that were too long. It is cobbled together and standing tall, however. If I write an eHow article about it it will be how not to build a compost bin. I believe it will work just fine, especially since I sat outside and cut a pile of old vines I had pulled into 3-4 inch pieces to use as a base. It seems one must have a base of little canes like that so there is good drainage down and an easy path for the little critters to crawl up from the ground. I have some stuff to pour in - microbes and such, that will help get it started. That will be tomorrow.

We will have the Mantis tiller all serviced and ready to roll tomorrow as well, and I bought an electric lawn mower online this morning and picked it up at Lowe's. I bought hostas for under my big tree by the back door (where the laundry was supposed to go) and will plant green and white caladiums in two wooden planters I already have. A plan is coming together. So, I have direction for the week. Call the "Got junk?" people and get quotes and have the upstairs room over the garage and basement cleaned out. The the domino effect can happen. The cabinet is painted - not totally to my satisfaction. It will be a galloping horse. As soon as it is really dry I can rearrange my breakfast room. Check-a-marka. Have a great day.

Love thy Neighbor

Today I have reason to love my neighbor. While outside I noticed my neighbor hauling stuff in his wheelbarrow, so asked what he was doing. He had a load of mulch that he and his son were hauling and spreading. I asked if I could borrow a file so I could sharpen my spade and post-hole digger as I was digging holes for my new clothesline posts. He found 3 for me then asked if I wanted help. God bless him! He came over later and started to deepen the holes I had started. Well, there were a lot of roots, so he requested a shovel. We went into the garage and got one, then he said "Are you sure you want to put that clothesline there? The trees are going to drip sap all over your clothes and the birds are going to poop on them." I gave it some brief consideration and changed my mind. So he dug new holes over by his fence. I planted my new rhododrendons in the other holes. Ouila! He also helped me pull down my chain link fence out by my garden. As we worked I told him I had pulled a vine out of his redbud tree. He told me that that was a grape vine. He had cut it back. But - yeah, I have a grape vine. I will make it a house. What a gift!

Later the two guys from yesterday showed up and sawed the new 4x4 then cut the slot in it for the posts. They were marvelous. Then yours truly drilled all the holes and put in all the bolts and screw eyes, hauled them to the holes, hauled the two 50# bags of quickset concrete, set up the posts, made sure they were plumb, poured in the concrete (you don't even have to add water - it absorbs it from the ground. It started to rain and I almost collapsed. My feet are killing me. I have been doing hard labor most of the day. But I have two clothesline posts in the ground. Tomorrow I will string the line. I am saving the sheets to wash until tomorrow so I can hang them out. Yes, I will include a picture.

I did bake cookies for the two neighbor guys and had them ready. I was so glad I did that last night. The house is clean, the bed is made - but, I may never make it up there. God, I love my neighbors. They really make things happen.

New Laundry Friends

I have a neighbor, and his friend. They are the guys that pick up leaves around the Borough and do other general maintenance. I have been consulting with Buddy about constructing my new clothesline. Finally settled on two 4x4 posts and 2x4 cross pieces. The plan was to cut slots in the 4x4 and bolt the 2x4 into it. Today we were just joshin' around when I was unloading groceries and ended up with the friend cutting my 4x4's for me. Only he had a different vision of what I needed. I will now have 4x4 cross pieces. I will now go buy a new 4x4 for him to cut tomorrow when he gets off work. I have now returned my too short hardware and have new hardware for the clothesline that he says will never go anywhere. It will be humongous.

It is almost impossible to find the old metal pipe clothesline poles like we had when I was a kid. They asked me how many lines I planned to put up - 3 or 4. Well, 3 will do as I will not be hanging clothes out for a family of nine as I used to do when I was a teenager. I also won't be ironing a bushel of clothes everyday after school as I used to. I think I have the hardware for 4 lines. Maybe this thing will live into posterity. It is going to be right outside my back door. I ain't haulin' baskets of laundry to the back 40. One reason is it would probably get stolen because it would be hidden by the garage. I've already lost a baker's rack, wire shelf, and room dividers off my front porch. There are thieves here. I'm not in the greatest neighborhood I guess. But, being a stranger in town what did I know? So my laundry is going right outside the back door.

I told Buddy about my laundry pictures. His laundry was proudly hung in his backyard. He always hangs it out, except for socks and towels in the winter. I will take a picture of it as my "Dillsburg Laundry" picture. His nice friend is coming over tomorrow to finish the carpentry. I just have to get the 18-24" deep holes dug for the concrete. Have to go below the frostline you know. Don't I sound like a pro? Progress report to come.

Emotional Attachment to T-shirts

Is there anyone else out there that is having a hard time giving up their T-shirts? I have an entire under-bed storage container full of them. In the past I have worn them in the summertime to sweat in, do yard work, paint, show off my travels (I told you I liked attention and am full of pride) and sleep. I have narrowed my sleep shirts to two, plus bonafide night wear. One is a "one size fits all" shirt from Tirenia, Italy and the other is a sleep T from a visit to the American Museum of Art. It has pictures of First Lady Inauguration gowns on it. Comfy and it covers my bottom. So, where do I go from here. If I get the Spelling Bee Tee what do I do with it?

At one time I began cutting out the picture on the front of the tee and making a place mat out of it. I got to two. I have drawers full of place mats. Who wants to eat off of my old T shirts anyway? Some of them may be collectible, but who would want to collect them? When I mentioned that I had a KU championship T shirt from 1988 one person said "I'll bet that is a collector's item." Just when I was ready to give it up this comes up. I have used it to paint in, in the past. Now, as to the painting issue. If I don't paint in the T shirts, how do I keep from getting paint on my good clothes? I was painting my cabinet the other night in a long-sleeved mock turtle T and got paint on the sleeve. I was soaked to the elbow by the time I got the paint out. Do I modify my no T shirt policy to include painting? And which ones do I keep for that purpose?


Next dilemma. If I donate my T shirts to the local Methodist Thrift Shop am I going to see someone walking around town in my St. Louis Museum of Art Piccaso T shirt? I will know that that person hasn't been within a thousand miles of St. Louis and would never have been to that exhibition because they are too young. I got that T shirt when my husband and I went there for our anniversary celebration. It's a memory. They are all memories. How do we shelve our memories? Getting the shirts out and looking at them bring memories flooding back. What if I get Altzheimer's disease? Won't I need something to remind me of who I am?

I believe these are issues for many people, not just me. I think that is why we Americans have to rent storage units in which to keep our excess possessions. Wasn't it easier when there were work clothes, school clothes and church clothes, and NOTHING ELSE? I'll wait for some responses from my erudite readers before I continue in this vein. Now I know why my father would never allow me to complain that I had a headache. It was just too personal and inconvenient. OIWIWAOMW

Pea and the Bee

Well, my team won! KU is the champion school. I remember when I sat in the fieldhouse, stomping my feet and yelling Rock Chalk Jayhawk KU. It is eerie to hear. I didn't hear it at any of the NCAA games, but there were references to the Rock Chalk Jayhawks.

Tuesday, 10:00 and I go to the Senior Center Spelling Bee for York County, Pennsylvania. There are seven contestants and 157 words later I am the winner. Now I have to compete on May 6 at Penn State in York. What a hoot. I had some real time conflicts for that day and when I talked to a couple of the other members one said "it's only for a T-shirt." Well, that is an interesting perspective. Since I have sworn off wearing T-shirts I had to pause a moment and think. It's not about winning a T-shirt. It is about pride. I admit it. I am proud of my spelling skills. Probably too proud and I do brag. I like attention. So, I will go to the Spelling Bee in York. And, if I win, I will wear the T-shirt and will compete, and if I win I will brag. Who will it hurt? It is funny I think.

On my to do list, the cabinet is about half-finished. The trim paint I am using will cover well with two coats, and I am not quite through with one. The trash and recycling got out, I got the new shower curtain and liner up, bought some new towels. I'll check the list again, but I did slack off a bit today.

When I Googled for OIWIWAOMW I came up with other blogs with that label. I guess I am not the only weiner fan. Wonder about those other people. Pea

My KU

I can't believe I am sitting here watching a basketball game but I wouldn't miss KU at the NCAA Championships for anything. Just like I wouldn't miss watching the Master's next week. I'm not excited just fixated. I keep missing good shots because I was setting up this blog. This is as good a place to start as any because my musings are to include my past. In this case graduation from the University of Kansas in 1965. I attended one KU basketball game during that time. I just didn't know how to get a ticket I guess. I loved it but I was so inexperienced and naive that I couldn't do something so simple. I was truly in another world. My life was pretty predictable then - eat, sleep, study, work. It lead to a career which is now for all intents and purposes over. That is a pretty profound statement - but I did say that it was about the past, present and future. Yea! A field goal and KU leads 43 to 40. It is so close. They are so good - both Memphis and KU.

I have a chore list this week and I will be checking things off every day. You can see how stimulating being retired is. Tomorrow's big event is competing in a spelling bee at the Senior Center across the street. I always wanted to be in a spelling bee. "Makela and the Bee" inspired me. I watched it while in Panama visiting my sister. Now I have to put my money where my mouth is. Then the list includes buying a new shower curtain, paper towels and potting soil. I have coupons and am trying to take advantage of discounts when they are available. I need a clear shower curtain as my tub enclosure and shower are very dark - can't find the soap in there.

When I get back home I will continue to paint a cabinet for my breakfast room. I should be finished on Wednesday and then will put my breakfast room back together. May not mean much to you but it will to me. I also hope to collect all of the chain link fence parts laying around the yard and garage. I hope to find enough to either re-construct the fence myself or have someone come in to do it. It's not functional at this time.

I also want to finish digging the holes for my clothesline poles, assemble the 2X4's and 4X4's and drill the holes for all of the bolts and screw eyes. I guess I should write an article for www.eHow.com about this. I'm pretty committed to using sunshine to dry clothes whenever possible. Maybe someone else out there wants to do the same thing. I will wait for my husband to be home next Sunday to put the posts in the ground since it involves carrying 50 lb. bags of quick set concrete around. 47 to 51 - bummer. Then I will string the clotheslines. But that is on next week's list. I think this is enough for now. Have a good day, night, week.