I saw a story in the major news sources last week that wm is dropping prices on thousands of their products to draw consumers back into their stores because they have had the lowest same-store sales gains in their history this year. I can't take ALL the credit for that, but I'm sure my significant drop in purchases there made at least a small blip at our local store. The chain says that their customers are concerned about gas prices so they aren't buying as much. That might be true, but I also think that there are way more people like me who have just had their fill of wm's destructive business practices.
Sadly, we've probably made more purchases at that store in the last month than in this entire calendar year. The majority of shopping trips I've made there have simply been out of convenience. There is no other grocery store in that particular part of town (except an off-brand retailer) and if I'm in that area running other errands and need to pick up bread or milk, it is just too easy to go there rather than drive four or five miles in a different direction.
Since this was the original intent of this blog I will aspire to improve my own habits.
And in other news...
a woman in Jersey reported that her pool...a pool similar to the one we fondly refer to as our "hillbilly pool"...was stolen WITH the water in it. Hogwash. These pools are HEAVY when they are full of water. The Reenactor calculated at one point how much our own pool weighed filled with water, and it simply isn't possible for someone to have taken it without emptying it first. Not to mention the fact that if you so much as lean on the side (with intent) you dump all the water out in a tsunami of chlorinated water...I've witnessed this very event in years past. A person, or extensive group of persons, could NOT steal a full pool.
Beach time....chat amongst yourselves for a few days!
Thursday, July 26, 2007
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
pass the chicken and gravy!
According to a map posted on the CNN website this afternoon the state of KY is one of several in the deep south with a 25% obesity rate. Well, kiss my cheese grits.
My observation with this is that oddly enough, the majority of the states that are obese are also the states that most support the current administration.
Coincidence?
Maybe if you get up off your arse and exercise once in a while your brain fog clears.
My observation with this is that oddly enough, the majority of the states that are obese are also the states that most support the current administration.
Coincidence?
Maybe if you get up off your arse and exercise once in a while your brain fog clears.
Monday, July 23, 2007
yet another sign
I seem to be on a theme of finding signs that catch my attention in a weird way. I saw this sign about two weeks ago, but didn't have my camera with me, and had it with me when I was on this particular side of town again. My personal reaction to it is one of two things: 1) You can't buy beer in this town on Sunday, but by golly, you can get buy-one-get-one-free adult movies; and 2) when you think of Sunday do you REALLY ask yourself "gee, do I have enough porn to get through until Monday?"
Sorry if I've offended any of you, but this sign offended me.
Thursday, July 12, 2007
ladybird
There's a wonderful children's book called "Miss Rumphius." It is about a woman who as a child tells her grandfather that when she grows up she will travel to faraway places, and then live by the sea. Her grandfather says that is fine, but she must also, "do something to make the world more beauiful." She spends her life travelling, and when she finally settles down in her hometown by the sea she tries to think of how to make the world more beautiful. So she plants wildflowers....everywhere. Whenever she goes for walks she takes wildflower seeds (specifically lupine seeds) in her pockets, and tosses them into the dirt along the paths she takes. A lot of the people in her town think she is crazy, but she continues to do it. Soon, the fields and walkways of her town are covered in beautiful flowers and when she dies she is remembered as the "lupine lady."
If there is one thing that Lady Bird Johnson did with her power as First Lady it was to beautify the highways of the United States with a simple idea...plant native wildflowers in the medians and right of ways. It is an incredibly simple idea, yet there are places where the results breathtaking. One example, the KY-TN line on interstate 24 is a sea of reds and yellows at certain times of the year when flowers planted there are in bloom. When driving for miles and miles on highways that are monotonous at best it is so refreshing to see that spot of color.
What if we all took her idea a step further....what if we found just one place in our hometowns that could benefit from a patch of flowers...wild or otherwise? I'm going to buy wildflower seeds in the next few days and see if I can't get my own Ladybird spot started.
Find a way to do something to make the world more beautiful.
If there is one thing that Lady Bird Johnson did with her power as First Lady it was to beautify the highways of the United States with a simple idea...plant native wildflowers in the medians and right of ways. It is an incredibly simple idea, yet there are places where the results breathtaking. One example, the KY-TN line on interstate 24 is a sea of reds and yellows at certain times of the year when flowers planted there are in bloom. When driving for miles and miles on highways that are monotonous at best it is so refreshing to see that spot of color.
What if we all took her idea a step further....what if we found just one place in our hometowns that could benefit from a patch of flowers...wild or otherwise? I'm going to buy wildflower seeds in the next few days and see if I can't get my own Ladybird spot started.
Find a way to do something to make the world more beautiful.
Monday, July 9, 2007
happy birthday Mom
Today would have been my mother's 90th birthday.
One year ago today my kids and I were with her, and my children gave her an "angel" teddy bear. My mother collected teddy bears because as a young girl she was friends with several other girls in her very small town in Missouri and as a club they called themselves the Teddy Bears. They remained friends all their lives and I think only two of them survive.
When we went to see her on her birthday last year she was calm and sleepy, which was her "normal" state then. She had been in a nursing home for four years, and because of things misfiring in her brain, and the cocktails of drugs they gave her there, she was—to quote the Pink Floyd song—"comfortably numb." She sat forward just a bit in her wheelchair when the kids came into her view....T1 and T2 always caught her eye. I don't know in her last few months that she understood that they were her grandchildren, but she did know that shorter, cuter, more active people were in her room than normally appeared there, and she reacted to them. I talked to her and told her happy birthday, but I don't know how much of it made sense to her.
The next day we went to see her again, and this time she was angry. I could tell as soon as I walked into the room. Even though Mom was in very poor health she could still show emotion, and on that day-after-her-birthday I realized as soon as I said hello to her that she was mad, and I felt like it was directed at me. She refused to acknowledge me and had a "set" expression on her face that I remember very well as a child..a look that meant she was not pleased. After sitting with her for a few moments I realized that the anger was her way of telling me that it was time to go. Not for me to leave, but for her to move on.
When I got back in my car that day I called my sister and told her what I had seen. A week later my brother visited Mom, and called me and told me he had the same "feeling" when he saw her....that she was mad, and ready to go.Three weeks later, she died.
I report all this because since her death I have had her "permission" to read letters she and my father wrote to each other while they were courting, and during their early marriage while he was overseas serving in the Army in WWII. There are hundreds of letters, and I have started typing them—a few a week,—and forwarding them to my family to read. In those letters I am seeing a side of both my parents I didn't know. You know how you sometimes wish you could go back in time and meet your parents when they were teenagers, or in college? It is sort of like that...I'm finding out what songs she liked to listen to on the radio, what movies she went to see, how she spent her free time, how much she loved my father, and how hard it was for them to be apart.
Even though I've only read and typed about 20 percent of the letters I have learned that my mother was funny and smart. I knew these things already, but reading the letters is like hearing her voice all over again but in a younger, more carefree voice. I have also realized that the lifelong "teasing" she endured for being a bit of a "scatterbrain" is actually something that started when she and Dad were dating. There was a popular song by Frankie Masters called "Scatterbrain" and it was one of "their" songs. And, in trying to follow Mom's stream-of-conciousness writing style I can see why Dad would have used that as a term of endearment for her. She often flits from a serious topic (the draft and her worries for Dad going in the Army) to something silly someone at work said to her, all in one paragraph.
I've also learned from the letters that Mom was frustrated by her limited career choices as a woman in the early 1940s. She was getting a degree in education, but after having taught a couple of years at a rural schoolhouse to earn money to keep attending college, she was disillusioned by teaching, and really didn't want to go back. In those days teaching was one of the only "professional" jobs a woman could have. Even though she eventually did get a degree in education, and taught off and on for many years, I am beginning to understand in reading the letters that it really wasn't what she dreamed of doing.
I think this is why she encouraged all of her own children....three daughters and one son....to follow their dreams. The world was a very different place for her daughters than it was for her. This especially was true for me having been born so late in her life, I got to take full advantage of the freedoms and opportunities created by the women's movements of the sixties and seventies...something I think most younger women take for granted. I often wonder what Mom would have been if she had been able to choose any degree she wanted when she was in college. My best guess is that she would have been an architect or interior designer. She loved studying houses and floorplans and dreaming of ways to arrange living spaces.
So today would have been Mom's 90th birthday. For you younger women reading this blog, consider this: When my mother was born women could not vote. That amendment to the constitution was passed when she was three years old. Think about that....think about how your place in the world would be affected if you could not even participate in the democratic process of choosing your government.
In her lifetime there were two World Wars, and two "other" wars...in Korea and Vietnam. There have also been the two wars in Iraq, and numerous other military actions and "operations." She and my father watched the Twin Towers fall, and I think that day they remembered back to watching newsreels of Pearl Harbor exploding in flames, and probably wondered what sort of World War we were going to be drawn into this time.
My mother (and father) grew up in rural Missouri and as children lived in very modest circumstances by our standards today. But in spite of the fact that a Great Depression had caused families like theirs to be cautious about how their money was spent (go watch a "Waltons" episode if you need a refresher on this) they both managed to graduate from college, as did nearly all their friends in their high school class of 27 young men and women... an accomplishment I still find astounding for the time.
Later in her life my mother finally found her "true" vocation. She became a librarian. She loved showing her patrons the world through books. There were no computers when she was in her library, and she was to many people in my hometown the first "google" they experienced. Ask her a question, she could almost always find the information you were looking for. Tell her you are writing a research paper on moths and she would bring you a stack of 14 books to use as reference. She would call friends and acquaintances who were experts in certain areas for reference if she couldn't find the information there in the library.
Mom loved a birthday celebration and reveled in being surrounded by family and friends to talk, laugh and have cake.
I'll be having a piece of cake today in honor of Mom. I'm sure she is enjoying her 90th surrounded by her Howard, her parents and brothers, and of course, her Teddy Bears.
One year ago today my kids and I were with her, and my children gave her an "angel" teddy bear. My mother collected teddy bears because as a young girl she was friends with several other girls in her very small town in Missouri and as a club they called themselves the Teddy Bears. They remained friends all their lives and I think only two of them survive.
When we went to see her on her birthday last year she was calm and sleepy, which was her "normal" state then. She had been in a nursing home for four years, and because of things misfiring in her brain, and the cocktails of drugs they gave her there, she was—to quote the Pink Floyd song—"comfortably numb." She sat forward just a bit in her wheelchair when the kids came into her view....T1 and T2 always caught her eye. I don't know in her last few months that she understood that they were her grandchildren, but she did know that shorter, cuter, more active people were in her room than normally appeared there, and she reacted to them. I talked to her and told her happy birthday, but I don't know how much of it made sense to her.
The next day we went to see her again, and this time she was angry. I could tell as soon as I walked into the room. Even though Mom was in very poor health she could still show emotion, and on that day-after-her-birthday I realized as soon as I said hello to her that she was mad, and I felt like it was directed at me. She refused to acknowledge me and had a "set" expression on her face that I remember very well as a child..a look that meant she was not pleased. After sitting with her for a few moments I realized that the anger was her way of telling me that it was time to go. Not for me to leave, but for her to move on.
When I got back in my car that day I called my sister and told her what I had seen. A week later my brother visited Mom, and called me and told me he had the same "feeling" when he saw her....that she was mad, and ready to go.Three weeks later, she died.
I report all this because since her death I have had her "permission" to read letters she and my father wrote to each other while they were courting, and during their early marriage while he was overseas serving in the Army in WWII. There are hundreds of letters, and I have started typing them—a few a week,—and forwarding them to my family to read. In those letters I am seeing a side of both my parents I didn't know. You know how you sometimes wish you could go back in time and meet your parents when they were teenagers, or in college? It is sort of like that...I'm finding out what songs she liked to listen to on the radio, what movies she went to see, how she spent her free time, how much she loved my father, and how hard it was for them to be apart.
Even though I've only read and typed about 20 percent of the letters I have learned that my mother was funny and smart. I knew these things already, but reading the letters is like hearing her voice all over again but in a younger, more carefree voice. I have also realized that the lifelong "teasing" she endured for being a bit of a "scatterbrain" is actually something that started when she and Dad were dating. There was a popular song by Frankie Masters called "Scatterbrain" and it was one of "their" songs. And, in trying to follow Mom's stream-of-conciousness writing style I can see why Dad would have used that as a term of endearment for her. She often flits from a serious topic (the draft and her worries for Dad going in the Army) to something silly someone at work said to her, all in one paragraph.
I've also learned from the letters that Mom was frustrated by her limited career choices as a woman in the early 1940s. She was getting a degree in education, but after having taught a couple of years at a rural schoolhouse to earn money to keep attending college, she was disillusioned by teaching, and really didn't want to go back. In those days teaching was one of the only "professional" jobs a woman could have. Even though she eventually did get a degree in education, and taught off and on for many years, I am beginning to understand in reading the letters that it really wasn't what she dreamed of doing.
I think this is why she encouraged all of her own children....three daughters and one son....to follow their dreams. The world was a very different place for her daughters than it was for her. This especially was true for me having been born so late in her life, I got to take full advantage of the freedoms and opportunities created by the women's movements of the sixties and seventies...something I think most younger women take for granted. I often wonder what Mom would have been if she had been able to choose any degree she wanted when she was in college. My best guess is that she would have been an architect or interior designer. She loved studying houses and floorplans and dreaming of ways to arrange living spaces.
So today would have been Mom's 90th birthday. For you younger women reading this blog, consider this: When my mother was born women could not vote. That amendment to the constitution was passed when she was three years old. Think about that....think about how your place in the world would be affected if you could not even participate in the democratic process of choosing your government.
In her lifetime there were two World Wars, and two "other" wars...in Korea and Vietnam. There have also been the two wars in Iraq, and numerous other military actions and "operations." She and my father watched the Twin Towers fall, and I think that day they remembered back to watching newsreels of Pearl Harbor exploding in flames, and probably wondered what sort of World War we were going to be drawn into this time.
My mother (and father) grew up in rural Missouri and as children lived in very modest circumstances by our standards today. But in spite of the fact that a Great Depression had caused families like theirs to be cautious about how their money was spent (go watch a "Waltons" episode if you need a refresher on this) they both managed to graduate from college, as did nearly all their friends in their high school class of 27 young men and women... an accomplishment I still find astounding for the time.
Later in her life my mother finally found her "true" vocation. She became a librarian. She loved showing her patrons the world through books. There were no computers when she was in her library, and she was to many people in my hometown the first "google" they experienced. Ask her a question, she could almost always find the information you were looking for. Tell her you are writing a research paper on moths and she would bring you a stack of 14 books to use as reference. She would call friends and acquaintances who were experts in certain areas for reference if she couldn't find the information there in the library.
Mom loved a birthday celebration and reveled in being surrounded by family and friends to talk, laugh and have cake.
I'll be having a piece of cake today in honor of Mom. I'm sure she is enjoying her 90th surrounded by her Howard, her parents and brothers, and of course, her Teddy Bears.
Friday, July 6, 2007
but what if I want to purchase some?
I know a lot of places around here that could definitely use a rental of this stuff....
Friday, June 29, 2007
Meteorologist in training
AccuPacker....that's what we're calling Thing 2. His Uncle "The Edward" will appreciate how he has put his hat from the St. Pat's parade into use as a wind-direction detection device. And his frog umbrella has been employed as a rain gauge. This isn't from the We-Need-An-Ark deluge we had today, but from a storm last week. He is very keen on weather now. If THAT isn't a measure of his Fillmer-ness, I don't know what is.
Monday, June 25, 2007
We've won a major award!
Most of you campers who are family or close friends have heard the angst-ridden story of how The Reenactor's delicious canned garlic dill pickles were slammed out of winning any ribbons at the county fair last summer by self-absorbed, so-called "extension homemakers" who dissed him because of some small dots of "rust" on the lid. The sad sight of his jar of pickles, ribbon-less, in a shelf full of pickles with all manner and colors of ribbons on them, was just so sad. Even sadder was the sight that some of the other entries had clearly used artificial colors to achieve the ultimate color of green for their entry, and yet, they still were recognized with an award. But not T.R. His pickles were ostracized. There is a life lesson in this somewhere, but I'll let you all figure it out on your own.
Not to be outdone, when he pickled last summer he made sure he carefully wiped ALL salt off the lids so as to not offend the homemaker judges this year. Today was entry day, so he looked through all his leftover jars (from last year....cucumber plants are still growing this year) and selected the one that would be easiest to clean up (small bits of rust still had settled, in spite of his efforts last summer). Using a bit of sandpaper he sparkled up that lid. He was disappointed in the actual pickles themselves...thought they just didn't look right. But, since these women don't bother to TASTE the entry....just judge it on appearance (again, a life metaphor can be construed)...he decided it was okay.
Meanwhile, on a whim, I decided to whip up a batch of biscuits to enter. Since I was recognized in my youth as an award-winning baker at the Webster Co. Fair, I thought it would be fun to see how I was judged here. I made a dozen biscuits (recipe from an ancient Oklahoma 4-H cookbook) and selected the four that seemed most "alike" in appearance to enter. We had some of the leftovers for breakfast, and they were pretty darn good.
T1 and T2 and I took the entries this morning and left them at the fairgrounds. This evening we went back to see how we did. Happy news! The Reenactor's pickles won a RED RIBBON!! Ta Da! No dissing this year! A major improvement, and achievement!
Oh, and my biscuits? Blue ribbon.
Ha.
Not to be outdone, when he pickled last summer he made sure he carefully wiped ALL salt off the lids so as to not offend the homemaker judges this year. Today was entry day, so he looked through all his leftover jars (from last year....cucumber plants are still growing this year) and selected the one that would be easiest to clean up (small bits of rust still had settled, in spite of his efforts last summer). Using a bit of sandpaper he sparkled up that lid. He was disappointed in the actual pickles themselves...thought they just didn't look right. But, since these women don't bother to TASTE the entry....just judge it on appearance (again, a life metaphor can be construed)...he decided it was okay.
Meanwhile, on a whim, I decided to whip up a batch of biscuits to enter. Since I was recognized in my youth as an award-winning baker at the Webster Co. Fair, I thought it would be fun to see how I was judged here. I made a dozen biscuits (recipe from an ancient Oklahoma 4-H cookbook) and selected the four that seemed most "alike" in appearance to enter. We had some of the leftovers for breakfast, and they were pretty darn good.
T1 and T2 and I took the entries this morning and left them at the fairgrounds. This evening we went back to see how we did. Happy news! The Reenactor's pickles won a RED RIBBON!! Ta Da! No dissing this year! A major improvement, and achievement!
Oh, and my biscuits? Blue ribbon.
Ha.
Saturday, June 23, 2007
hillbillies in a Crown Vic
This post has no particular point....just another of those weird things that has stuck in my apparently bored brain for five hours now.
I had to go to the Evil Empire (Wally World) this afternoon to purchase a box of DVD-Rs. Okay, first of all I hear all of you booing at me for going there, but I wanted to actually have a decent selection to choose from, and to be able to get in and out of a store as quickly as possible. This is another of those purchases that I don't really see a huge difference between buying it at W.M. versus one of the other big box stores. The darn things are all made in Taiwan, so it's the same difference, as we used to say in high school.
So I'm totally digressing here. As I was leaving, with Things 1 and 2 in tow, and our one little bag of purchases (DVDs and a box of Thing 1's favorite granola bars) I noticed as we were approaching our car a number of well-fed WKY hillbillies were loitering around the car next to mine. They were emptying out not one, not two, but three grocery carts of filled little white WM bags into the trunk of this car, which as it turned out, was a Crown Victoria. Let's just say none of these folks have been strangers to gravy, shall we? My kids and I managed to squeeze past them (I'm not exaggerating here) to get into our car, and once we started up and were ready to back out I realized that all six (or possibly seven) of the hillbillies had jampacked themselves into that Crown Vic. As I pulled away from my parking spot I had the vision that has stuck with me all this evening....a nice burgandy sedan fiilled to the brim with large folks wearing overalls and polyester. And in the trunk? A whole weeks' worth of Little Debbie, smokes and cleaning supplies.
I'll say this for them...at least they carpooled.
I had to go to the Evil Empire (Wally World) this afternoon to purchase a box of DVD-Rs. Okay, first of all I hear all of you booing at me for going there, but I wanted to actually have a decent selection to choose from, and to be able to get in and out of a store as quickly as possible. This is another of those purchases that I don't really see a huge difference between buying it at W.M. versus one of the other big box stores. The darn things are all made in Taiwan, so it's the same difference, as we used to say in high school.
So I'm totally digressing here. As I was leaving, with Things 1 and 2 in tow, and our one little bag of purchases (DVDs and a box of Thing 1's favorite granola bars) I noticed as we were approaching our car a number of well-fed WKY hillbillies were loitering around the car next to mine. They were emptying out not one, not two, but three grocery carts of filled little white WM bags into the trunk of this car, which as it turned out, was a Crown Victoria. Let's just say none of these folks have been strangers to gravy, shall we? My kids and I managed to squeeze past them (I'm not exaggerating here) to get into our car, and once we started up and were ready to back out I realized that all six (or possibly seven) of the hillbillies had jampacked themselves into that Crown Vic. As I pulled away from my parking spot I had the vision that has stuck with me all this evening....a nice burgandy sedan fiilled to the brim with large folks wearing overalls and polyester. And in the trunk? A whole weeks' worth of Little Debbie, smokes and cleaning supplies.
I'll say this for them...at least they carpooled.
Sunday, June 17, 2007
Thank you, Dad
Thank you Dad for teaching me to fish, and making me learn to put both minnows and worms on my own hook, even though you never made me have to take off the fish I caught. Your amusement and delight over each fish I caught made the trips to Tunnel or to Fellows Lake or to the Hamilton pond a joy. I'm sorry you had to set your own rig down so often to accomodate me. Thank you also for just cutting the line when I caught a snapping turtle that time. Some things just don't need to be dealt with.
Thank you Dad for teaching me how to check the oil in my car...a task I find useful still.
Thank you Dad for making me mow the lawn. I actually enjoyed it, and learned to "drive" whipping the Snapper riding mower around the back yard of our house.
Thank you Dad for making me learn to drive a standard transmission...and for just showing me once how to do it, then insisting I go out on my own to get the hang of it. As embarassed as I was to be jolting around town in leaps and spurts, I soon learned it, and again, it is a knowledge I still find useful.
Thank you Dad for "eating" the green tomato and sawdust pies I made you on those afternoons and evenings I played in the shop while you did woodworking.
Thank you Dad for making the best pancakes and homemade ice cream I've ever had.
Thank you Dad for reading aloud the nonsensical typewritten notes I would leave on your plate at lunch when I was very little. I can still remember your attempts to pronounce the words I had punched out on that old manual typewriter, just because I loved the sound of the keys slapping the paper.
Thank you Dad for making me a Cardinals fan...even though they are terrible this year.
Thank you Dad for driving me to school instead of making me ride the bus once I told you how awful the bus was. I still remember cold, frosty mornings riding in the Catalina down Route 66, with KTTS on the radio, and your hardhat in the backseat with the Willy the Wirehand logo on it.
Thank you Dad for buying me a box of my favorite Russell Stover chocolates for Valentines Day when I was in high school and boyfriend-less. I still remember how that made me feel loved and much better.
Thank you Dad for getting me through algebra, although I must have sorely tested your patience. I made a good solid "B" and I know you were as proud of that as I was, although you must have seriously wondered if I had ANY of your genetic material in me based on how hard I struggled with it.
Thank you Dad for playing symponies on your stereo. And for playing my John Denver records too.
Thank you Dad, for being the father that you were.
Thank you Dad for teaching me how to check the oil in my car...a task I find useful still.
Thank you Dad for making me mow the lawn. I actually enjoyed it, and learned to "drive" whipping the Snapper riding mower around the back yard of our house.
Thank you Dad for making me learn to drive a standard transmission...and for just showing me once how to do it, then insisting I go out on my own to get the hang of it. As embarassed as I was to be jolting around town in leaps and spurts, I soon learned it, and again, it is a knowledge I still find useful.
Thank you Dad for "eating" the green tomato and sawdust pies I made you on those afternoons and evenings I played in the shop while you did woodworking.
Thank you Dad for making the best pancakes and homemade ice cream I've ever had.
Thank you Dad for reading aloud the nonsensical typewritten notes I would leave on your plate at lunch when I was very little. I can still remember your attempts to pronounce the words I had punched out on that old manual typewriter, just because I loved the sound of the keys slapping the paper.
Thank you Dad for making me a Cardinals fan...even though they are terrible this year.
Thank you Dad for driving me to school instead of making me ride the bus once I told you how awful the bus was. I still remember cold, frosty mornings riding in the Catalina down Route 66, with KTTS on the radio, and your hardhat in the backseat with the Willy the Wirehand logo on it.
Thank you Dad for buying me a box of my favorite Russell Stover chocolates for Valentines Day when I was in high school and boyfriend-less. I still remember how that made me feel loved and much better.
Thank you Dad for getting me through algebra, although I must have sorely tested your patience. I made a good solid "B" and I know you were as proud of that as I was, although you must have seriously wondered if I had ANY of your genetic material in me based on how hard I struggled with it.
Thank you Dad for playing symponies on your stereo. And for playing my John Denver records too.
Thank you Dad, for being the father that you were.
Saturday, June 16, 2007
Saturday, June 2, 2007
Sgt. Pepper, Part 2
The Reenactor came home today with a gift for me...a CD of the Beatles' Sgt. Pepper album. He had never heard it as one album...just heard some of the songs on it, and I probably haven't listened to it in one continuous play for a zillion years either. We played it tonight, and wow...I didn't realize that the words to the songs have apparently embedded themselves in my DNA somehow, although I can't remember what I watched on tv last night.
The best part of having the CD playing while we were eating dinner was Thing 1 and Thing 2's reactions. They just HAD to get up and dance as soon as they were done eating. Thing 1 did some quite remarkably good, and "music appropriate" interpretative dance to songs like "When I'm 64"; while Thing 2 pretty much just stood on a stepstool like a dancer from "Laugh In" and wiggled around. If you've never heard the album there is a LOT of orchestral elements to it...French horns, clarinet solos, etc. At one point Thing 2 grabbed the last remaining crescent roll off the table and turned it into a faux trumpet to "play" along with the music. Considering he was wearing his Cars jammies, and Thing 1 had on a Mickie Mouse nightgown with a big pink bow in her hair, the effect was quite charming.
The best part of having the CD playing while we were eating dinner was Thing 1 and Thing 2's reactions. They just HAD to get up and dance as soon as they were done eating. Thing 1 did some quite remarkably good, and "music appropriate" interpretative dance to songs like "When I'm 64"; while Thing 2 pretty much just stood on a stepstool like a dancer from "Laugh In" and wiggled around. If you've never heard the album there is a LOT of orchestral elements to it...French horns, clarinet solos, etc. At one point Thing 2 grabbed the last remaining crescent roll off the table and turned it into a faux trumpet to "play" along with the music. Considering he was wearing his Cars jammies, and Thing 1 had on a Mickie Mouse nightgown with a big pink bow in her hair, the effect was quite charming.
Pork and Beans
Why is it that the big news organizations think that two of the top ten stories we want to see on their websites today are that the "wild" pig killed by an 11-year-old-boy in Alabama was actually not wild at all, but had recently been released to a "hunting" enclosed area (where he was fenced in to be hunted by 11 year old boys); and that Hugh Grant has been released from charges that he threw baked beans at the paparrazi.
Is it just me, or is this stupid? Aren't there truly more interesting and important stories we should be hearing?
All my kin who have ties to the media can refrain from answering my angst with all the corporate media cost-effective, who's your audience reasons...I know. Honestly, I know WHY these are two of the top stories (along with some stupid skydiver story) I guess my rhetorical question is just that...rhetorical.
argh.
Is it just me, or is this stupid? Aren't there truly more interesting and important stories we should be hearing?
All my kin who have ties to the media can refrain from answering my angst with all the corporate media cost-effective, who's your audience reasons...I know. Honestly, I know WHY these are two of the top stories (along with some stupid skydiver story) I guess my rhetorical question is just that...rhetorical.
argh.
Friday, June 1, 2007
It's wonderful to be here. It's certainly a thrill.
It was 40 years ago today—I just heard on the radio—that the Beatle's Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band album was released. This has to be in my top ten albums of all time, even though I don't own a copy of it. I probably wore my brother and/or sister's copy out at the time, and LOVED the music on it even though I didn't understand what the heck any of it was about (well I still don't understand what some of it is about!). But it had some great music on it, and the cover art alone was probably a huge inspiration for me to become a graphic artist. Anyway....if you haven't heard it in a while, here's the opening lyrics...I know you'll be humming it the rest of the day!
It was twenty years ago today,
Sgt. Pepper taught the band to play
They've been going in and out of style
But they're guaranteed to raise a smile.
So may I introduce to you
The act you've known for all these years,
Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band.
It was twenty years ago today,
Sgt. Pepper taught the band to play
They've been going in and out of style
But they're guaranteed to raise a smile.
So may I introduce to you
The act you've known for all these years,
Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band.
Monday, May 28, 2007
I dare you to make this
As I was getting ready to put away Mom's notebook that I referenced in an earlier post, I saw this recipe. I dare you Camper's to make it....I'll be eagerly awaiting your verdict on how it tastes! Oh, and for the record, I don't remember my mother ever making this, thank God.
Prune Medallion Pudding
Dissolve 1 package Raspberry (jello?) in 1 pint hot water and prune juice. Add 4 tablespoons sugar, dash each of salt and cinnamon, 1/3 cup cut raisins, and 1 cup cut cooked prunes. Chill until slightly thickened, then fold in 1/4 cup broken nut meats. Turn into mold. Serves 6.
Prune Medallion Pudding
Dissolve 1 package Raspberry (jello?) in 1 pint hot water and prune juice. Add 4 tablespoons sugar, dash each of salt and cinnamon, 1/3 cup cut raisins, and 1 cup cut cooked prunes. Chill until slightly thickened, then fold in 1/4 cup broken nut meats. Turn into mold. Serves 6.
Mom's daydreams
I found out this afternoon that this acorn didn't fall too far from the proverbial tree. I was going through yet another box of stuff from my parents' house and found a notebook that I think was in my mom's "recipe drawer" at the house I grew up in. The recipe drawer as I remember it was a kitchen drawer full of clipped recipes, product recipe booklets (like 100 Ways With Jello), etc. I didn't usually go through the drawer when I was growing up because Mom rarely actually used the recipes in it. She cooked from memory, or referred to recipes in one of her hundreds (no, I'm not kidding) of cookbooks she had elsewhere in the house.
This particular notebook was literally falling apart...it had no front cover, and was a three-ring binder that was just marginally holding together. At first I thought it was just some recipes she had written down from friends or relatives, but the more I looked through it, I realized that it was her version of what I called my "idea file" and I had actually THROWN OUT my own idea file just an hour earlier. (Remember campers...I'm trying to get rid of stuff in this house!). Anyway...Mom started this notebook while she and Dad were newlyweds and continued to use it well into their early marriage once he returned from overseas. There are handwritten recipes, clipped recipes from magazines like Ladies Home Journal, McCalls, Good Housekeeping, etc.; and there are floorplans. Mom had drawn out floor plans for what I presume was her dream house. She had attached clips of pages from magazines of specific rooms and decorating ideas she liked. There were also recipes for making things from scratch that you couldn't buy during WWII because of rationing.
The thing that struck me most about the notebook was how many different types of things Mom kept in it. It wasn't just a way to organize her recipes or household work, it had poems, and drawings, and daydreams in it. Needless to say her "dream house" never looked like the one she sketched out, but one of the clippings she had kept had a built-in glass cabinet wall separating the kitchen from the living room, that looked somewhat like the china cabinet in our home between our dining room and living room.
I have clipped recipes from magazines for years now, and tried to keep them in a folder where I could use them when I wanted...now with the internet I can much more quickly look up recipe ideas and have them in front of me in moments, rather than looking through a notebook full of clippings, so that's why I threw out my recipe book earlier today. But I'm keeping Mom's notebook. Even though some of the recipes in there are SO disgusting, in a Leave-It-To-Beaver-sort of way (Beet and Lima Bean Salad, anyone?) the things that she kept, that were important to her for some reason, are worth my reviewing from time to time.
This particular notebook was literally falling apart...it had no front cover, and was a three-ring binder that was just marginally holding together. At first I thought it was just some recipes she had written down from friends or relatives, but the more I looked through it, I realized that it was her version of what I called my "idea file" and I had actually THROWN OUT my own idea file just an hour earlier. (Remember campers...I'm trying to get rid of stuff in this house!). Anyway...Mom started this notebook while she and Dad were newlyweds and continued to use it well into their early marriage once he returned from overseas. There are handwritten recipes, clipped recipes from magazines like Ladies Home Journal, McCalls, Good Housekeeping, etc.; and there are floorplans. Mom had drawn out floor plans for what I presume was her dream house. She had attached clips of pages from magazines of specific rooms and decorating ideas she liked. There were also recipes for making things from scratch that you couldn't buy during WWII because of rationing.
The thing that struck me most about the notebook was how many different types of things Mom kept in it. It wasn't just a way to organize her recipes or household work, it had poems, and drawings, and daydreams in it. Needless to say her "dream house" never looked like the one she sketched out, but one of the clippings she had kept had a built-in glass cabinet wall separating the kitchen from the living room, that looked somewhat like the china cabinet in our home between our dining room and living room.
I have clipped recipes from magazines for years now, and tried to keep them in a folder where I could use them when I wanted...now with the internet I can much more quickly look up recipe ideas and have them in front of me in moments, rather than looking through a notebook full of clippings, so that's why I threw out my recipe book earlier today. But I'm keeping Mom's notebook. Even though some of the recipes in there are SO disgusting, in a Leave-It-To-Beaver-sort of way (Beet and Lima Bean Salad, anyone?) the things that she kept, that were important to her for some reason, are worth my reviewing from time to time.
Stop Loosening Your Skin!!!
It never pays for me to look through boxes of old stuff from my parents' house. I found this clipping from an old Life or Look magazine (not sure which). This wasn't the reason they had kept the clipping...there was a story about someone they knew on the back of this, but I'm still laughing about it.
Friday, May 25, 2007
bees
Sign seen on Interstate 55, approx. 5 miles south of Cape G., Mo. today....(on one of those flashing highway dept. signs)
ANGRY BEES AHEAD!
DO NOT STOP AND GET OUT OF CAR!
ANGRY BEES AHEAD!
DO NOT STOP AND GET OUT OF CAR!
Tuesday, May 22, 2007
Financial Report to Campers
Since this blog originally started out as an ongoing rant against rampant consumerism, mostly fueled by my personal angst at how much of our income I spent at Wally World, I decided to do a quick check to see where we're at five months into my "boycott."
As faithful readers know, I DO still darken the door of the Store of Doom. There are just certain times where sheer proximity and lack of time makes it too cost prohibitive to go elsewhere....either on my checkbook, or my sanity. However, I HAVE made a dent in how much of The Reenactor's hard-earned money is now going to Bentonville, Ark.
Since I'm a Quicken-a-holic, I can easily throw these numbers out:
From Jan. 1 to May 22, 2006 we spent $3016.10 at W.M.
From Jan. 1 to May 22, 2007 we spent $630.90 at W.M.
20 percent of our original purchases!! TWENTY PERCENT, campers!!!!
As of today last year I had spent $2490.16 on groceries....almost entirely at W.M.
As of today this year I have spent $2805.87 on groceries....almost entirely all at either the locally-owned grocery store, or at Kroger.
Similarly, on "non-grocery" items, as I have them tagged in Quicken (things like paper towels, laundry detergent, etc.) I spent $656.19 as of 5/22/06; and $517.46 this year.
Sooo...I AM spending an average of 12 to 13 percent more on groceries, but 21 percent less on the non-grocery stuff.
I will add a caveat to the increased grocery prices....in addition to shopping the non-wally world way, we have also increased our purchases of organic products, namely organic milk, which is about three times more expensive than regular (but it is wayyyy yummier!) I have been spending a lot of those extra grocery dollars on food choices I was not making last year, and I account a lot of that difference in that way.
For those of you who still doubt that it is financially feasible to shop at stores other than W.M. (and I was one of those last year!) I would offer that it is definitely financially viable to find alternate sources for groceries and household products.
I find that once I got out of the habit of going there, and got my bearings as to where to get the best deals on different kinds of products, I really didn't miss shopping there at all. It no longer seems the obvious choice that it was this time last year.
As faithful readers know, I DO still darken the door of the Store of Doom. There are just certain times where sheer proximity and lack of time makes it too cost prohibitive to go elsewhere....either on my checkbook, or my sanity. However, I HAVE made a dent in how much of The Reenactor's hard-earned money is now going to Bentonville, Ark.
Since I'm a Quicken-a-holic, I can easily throw these numbers out:
From Jan. 1 to May 22, 2006 we spent $3016.10 at W.M.
From Jan. 1 to May 22, 2007 we spent $630.90 at W.M.
20 percent of our original purchases!! TWENTY PERCENT, campers!!!!
As of today last year I had spent $2490.16 on groceries....almost entirely at W.M.
As of today this year I have spent $2805.87 on groceries....almost entirely all at either the locally-owned grocery store, or at Kroger.
Similarly, on "non-grocery" items, as I have them tagged in Quicken (things like paper towels, laundry detergent, etc.) I spent $656.19 as of 5/22/06; and $517.46 this year.
Sooo...I AM spending an average of 12 to 13 percent more on groceries, but 21 percent less on the non-grocery stuff.
I will add a caveat to the increased grocery prices....in addition to shopping the non-wally world way, we have also increased our purchases of organic products, namely organic milk, which is about three times more expensive than regular (but it is wayyyy yummier!) I have been spending a lot of those extra grocery dollars on food choices I was not making last year, and I account a lot of that difference in that way.
For those of you who still doubt that it is financially feasible to shop at stores other than W.M. (and I was one of those last year!) I would offer that it is definitely financially viable to find alternate sources for groceries and household products.
I find that once I got out of the habit of going there, and got my bearings as to where to get the best deals on different kinds of products, I really didn't miss shopping there at all. It no longer seems the obvious choice that it was this time last year.
Saturday, May 19, 2007
78 years
That is the combined years of marriage celebrated tomorrow in my family.
65 years ago this week my father called my mother long distance from Ft. Sill, Oklahoma and asked her if it would work out for her to marry him as he passed through her town in Missouri in a few days on his way to Ft. Knox, Kentucky to his new post as a Lieutenant in the U.S. Army. Turns out it was the same day my mother was scheduled to graduate from college, so they just made a day of it...a wedding, commencement exercises, then a big family breakfast in their hometown as they made their way east on Route 66. The wedding was planned in just two or three days, and my mother had to celebrate this most important day of her life without her parents, as they lived in California and couldn't make the trip. It must have been the one small shadow on a day that I know she remembered so fondly all her life.
My parents knew each nearly their entire lives. They grew up just miles from each other, and attended the same small high school. But it wasn't until Dad was a college senior that he and Mom finally started dating, and the rest, they say, is history. Since Mom's passing last year I have been transcribing letters they wrote to each other for years as they dated, and after they married and he was sent overseas to fight in World War II. It is clear that they were passionate about each other from very early in their relationship...a passion that was evident until they were both very ill and shared a room in a nursing home together.
It was 12 years ago that I married The Reenactor, and I thank him for a dozen wonderful years of fun, travel, friendship, great days, and awful days, and the blessings of our children. I was thrilled to walk down that church aisle to him on that day, and would do it again any day that he asked. I feel darn lucky to be his bride.
And it was just one year ago that we witnessed the marriage of my niece and That Guy. It was really one of the best weddings I have ever attended, because it was full of joy, laughter, music, friendship, and so much love. I hope they are having a splendid first anniversary...I love you both!
65 years ago this week my father called my mother long distance from Ft. Sill, Oklahoma and asked her if it would work out for her to marry him as he passed through her town in Missouri in a few days on his way to Ft. Knox, Kentucky to his new post as a Lieutenant in the U.S. Army. Turns out it was the same day my mother was scheduled to graduate from college, so they just made a day of it...a wedding, commencement exercises, then a big family breakfast in their hometown as they made their way east on Route 66. The wedding was planned in just two or three days, and my mother had to celebrate this most important day of her life without her parents, as they lived in California and couldn't make the trip. It must have been the one small shadow on a day that I know she remembered so fondly all her life.
My parents knew each nearly their entire lives. They grew up just miles from each other, and attended the same small high school. But it wasn't until Dad was a college senior that he and Mom finally started dating, and the rest, they say, is history. Since Mom's passing last year I have been transcribing letters they wrote to each other for years as they dated, and after they married and he was sent overseas to fight in World War II. It is clear that they were passionate about each other from very early in their relationship...a passion that was evident until they were both very ill and shared a room in a nursing home together.
It was 12 years ago that I married The Reenactor, and I thank him for a dozen wonderful years of fun, travel, friendship, great days, and awful days, and the blessings of our children. I was thrilled to walk down that church aisle to him on that day, and would do it again any day that he asked. I feel darn lucky to be his bride.
And it was just one year ago that we witnessed the marriage of my niece and That Guy. It was really one of the best weddings I have ever attended, because it was full of joy, laughter, music, friendship, and so much love. I hope they are having a splendid first anniversary...I love you both!
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