NATIONAL CINEMA DAY

 

          Sunday was National Cinema Day. Regal emailed me at the beginning of the week offering $4.00 tickets (actually $6.09 after taxes, etc.). Since I hadn’t been to the movies in a very long time, I decided to take advantage of this offer. And, since it was going to be a HOT Sunday, I figured there wouldn’t be a better place to spend the day than in an air-conditioned theater.

          I decided on two movies…Barbie because how can I not see this movie, the biggest grossing movie in all time; and Oppenheimer because who doesn’t want to know how the worst killing method was brought to fruition. I began with Barbie at 1:00 pm and transitioned to Oppenheimer at 4:00 pm. I didn’t even leave the theater between movies. I did have to wait about ten minutes before I could enter Oppenheimer, but I just played a game on my phone.

          It was rather surprising to see so many advertisements for stuff on the screen. The last time I went to the movies, there was a woman who entertained us with information and guests while we waited for the previews to begin. This time, it was ad after ad for one thing and another, and not many of them were for products you could buy at the concession stand. There was even an ad for a man who needs a living kidney. I could use my phone to take a photo of the QR code in order to become a kidney donor.

          There also were not very many previews, but that may be because of the writers’ and actors’ strike. They did preview Dune which is supposed to open in December, but I heard it’s been pushed back to 2024 because of the strike.

          I was a bit surprised by Barbie. I expected it to be rather frothy and perhaps it was, but the premise was a good one…too bad the premise isn’t the actual case in real life as opposed to Barbieland. Both Ken and Barbie were very attractive and did a good job of acting like dolls. A friend who raised three daughters loved the movie and said there were lots of things that I might not get not having had any Barbie experience. I suppose that’s true, but it did amuse me in several places.

          Oppenheimer seemed a bit slow and I sort of kept waiting for the end. It also moved forward and backward in time. I don’t usually have a problem with that sort of movie, but I did find myself wondering now and then where and when we were. The actor who played Oppenheimer was excellent and I did like the movie a lot. I didn’t know a lot about Oppenheimer or the Manhattan project, but I left the movie wanting to know more. I think I’ll be doing a bit of research in order to get my questions answered.

          I also didn’t know there were actually four different sites where research into making the bomb happened. Again, I have questions. They set off a couple of bombs at Los Alamos. Did it become radioactive? I don’t think I ever realized they set off small test bombs on US soil. I did know they made uranium isotopes (I think that’s what they were) in Oak Ridge Tennessee because my biological father worked there on that project. He and his entire crew died early from various cancers, probably the result of working at Oak Ridge. And, is any part of Oak Ridge still radioactive?

          See, lots of questions. I’d like to know more about Oppenheimer as well. He was a brilliant man with morals, at least that’s how he came across in the movie. At the same time, he was portrayed as a womanizer, but was he really? Did he or any of the people who worked at Los Alamos die of cancer?

          There’s one other thing that surprised me about spending six plus hours in a theater…my back was killing me Monday morning. I don’t know if it was the seats or simply the lack of activity. Still, I’d do it again.

          Anyway, I guess if I’m going to get the answers to any of my questions, I need to put my fingers to work on the internet as opposed to flying over the keyboard writing this blog.

MY CALENDAR

          My calendar for the next month, including this last week of August is getting quite full. I know I’ve complained about having too much to do in the past, but time is flying by and I still have so much I want to do. I’m just hoping I don’t exhaust myself in the process of meeting all the commitments I’m putting on the calendar.

          First, I have my fitness classes three times a week plus I said I was going to return to water exercise in the river in September. That may now become October because it means I’m committed every single morning for the entire week. I may need to go back to bed on Tuesday and Thursday mornings if I don’t have another commitment for that morning.         

          The first item on the calendar aside from fitness class, is another trek to Woodland Park Zoo with Xander. We only managed half the zoo a couple of weeks ago and he didn’t see the red panda. So, we’re going back. I’m sure it will also include another ride…or two…on the carousel and lunch someplace aside from Zeeks. I keep trying to interest him in foods that aren’t McDonalds or pizza, but so far have been unsuccessful. Maybe nine years old is still too young for him to adventure into Mexican or Thai cuisine.

I am going to return to my driftwood sculpture class the second week of September. For that class I need some new driftwood which necessitates a trip to the beach. The last day of August, I’m going to Double Bluff Beach on Whidby Island with a friend and both our dogs. I was told it has a tremendous amount of driftwood lying about and one of the beaches is off-leash. I’m hoping Kuma has a wonderful time and that I come back with some interesting driftwood.

          At the time of this writing, I’m also considering a trip to the Pacific Coast. Again, with my friend and her dog. It would take three days of a week and two nights in a hotel/motel/resort. Unfortunately, in looking at the weather forecast, it doesn’t appear as though it’s going to be terribly warm and sunny. That brings up the question of whether or not I want to go someplace that will be cold and windy when cold and miserable weather is just around the corner where I live all the time. I guess it will depend partly on how successful my Whidby island trek is when it comes to driftwood I can turn into amazing sculptures.

          Then, there are family commitments, all of which I definitely want to do. My aunt is 95 and recently fell and broke her pelvis. She’s back at the Foss now, but in the nursing section. I’m going to see her this coming week and believe I should attempt to see her fairly frequently. I’m hoping she comes back from this problem with a vengeance.

          There’s my favorite cousin. I promised in 2022 that I would drive down to her place for a visit. She almost always drives north for family events unless we all meet at Southcenter. Well, I failed to keep my promise in 2022, but it’s on the calendar for 2023. She’ll make me lunch. I’ll get to see her remodel. And we’ll have hours in which to chat about anything and everything.

          My favorite oldest son turns 53 in September as well. He’s gotten to the age where he insists there’s nothing he wants (that’s my line and I’m much older) as a gift. Before Covid and again last year, I made Swedish meatballs for him and the family for dinner. I don’t yet know if he wants to do that this year, but I’m game. When it comes to the meatballs, I’ve made them once, but he insists that the ones from Ikea are just fine which would necessitate a trip to Ikea and maybe a visit to my sister who lives nearby. I do have a recipe and it would be fun to host the entire family for the first time in 2023.

          There’s also a lunch on the calendar toward the end of September with a number of Woodland Park Zoo folks. I’m really looking forward to that although I don’t see how six of us can bring each other up to date in just a couple of hours…maybe I should suggest we each type out a short synopsis of our lives since leaving the zoo and bring handouts. No matter, it will be fun to see these folks again.

          At the end of September another best friend will have her birthday. In the past, I think she’s always gone with her husband to some enjoyable location to celebrate both their birthdays…his is a week later, I think. Anyway, she’s had a serious setback this year, so I think all her friends should rally round with cake, presents, cards, comradery on her special day. Maybe I should discuss this with her best friend.

          Amongst all the above, I’m sure there will be lunches and/or events that will take up some time…do have an additional two lunches on the calendar already. In addition, the garden needs a lot of work and preparation for the coming winter. Kuma also needs to get on the schedule and begin going on walks now that the weather is cooling off (at least I hope it is).  And, writing, I need to find time to write, whether it’s just these off the cuff blog posts or a more serious work.

          Finally, I hope you don’t see this as whining about being over-extended. I’m actually looking forward to everything I’ve put into this blog as well as the things that haven’t yet been scheduled. I do think I’m going to need to pace myself a bit better than I’ve done in the past. It may mean skipping a fitness class now and then and my body (and mind, what’s left of it) will let me know when it needs to rest up for the next adventure. I’m sure I’ll be reporting via this blog about my various events.

          And, then, before I/we know it, it will be October…absolutely scary how fast this year has flown by. 

PICKLE TIME

           Somehow another year has passed and I just put my last jar of Aunt Lola’s Dill Pickles in the fridge. That means it’s once again time to put up dill pickles. This is something I’ve been doing since my early twenties, so that makes about fifty years of making dill pickles.

          My Great Aunt Lola was the canning queen in my life. She canned everything from pickles to sauerkraut and actual mincemeat. Her house was on Beacon Hill and her basement was full of jars that contained everything you could possibly can. She had green beans, peaches, pears, cherries, blueberries, huckleberries…if you could can it, she did.

          The mincemeat with which most of us are familiar is the stuff that comes in a jar around the holidays. It’s mostly raisons and chopped apples. Auntie Lola made the real thing that contained actual meat. It was usually some form of venison, elk or moose because all the men back then hunted and brought home da meat. If memory serves, she made pies with her mincemeat and they were tasty.

          I loved her dill pickles as did John. Rather than just give me some…well, maybe one jar…she offered to teach me how to put up my own. The last sentence in her recipe was, “When someone compliments you on your pickles, don’t give them a jar. Offer to help them make some, otherwise you’ll run out in no time.”

          The first time I made dill pickles, I did it at her house. It was 1968 and Aunt Lola supervised each and every step through the process.  I’m still grateful for that because I’ve followed her recipe and instructions ever since. When Uncle Ike put the box of pickles in my car after we finished, she cautioned me about driving home because the jars were still warm and could potentially break. I’m proud to say I got them all home without any breakage.

          One of the things Aunt Lola liked to know, being a very frugal woman, was the cost of her canning projects. In 1968, it was thirty-three cents per quart for 18-20 quarts. In 1996, I figured out the cost and it came to ninety-nine cents per jar. This year I made twelve quarts and the cost was $4.63 per quart. That includes the cost of rings and lids plus a gallon of apple cider vinegar. I already had enough salt left over from last year and didn’t have to purchase any jars, or it would have been closer to six or seven dollars a jar.

          There was a time I put up somewhere between thirty and forty jars every August. That was because I gave them away to family, friends and coworkers at the holidays. For the most part, I believe everyone who received a jar was pleased to be a recipient because they really are the best dill pickles ever. Once I retired, I stopped making so many and cut back to twenty or less. I still gifted some friends, but also offered to teach them how to do their own the way I was taught.

          It’s been a few years, pre-covid I think, when I had three friends over. I had told them to let the cucumbers stand overnight in cold water and to scrub them clean before coming to my house. I did my cucumbers first and then supervised each woman as they did their own cucumbers. To my knowledge, only one of those friends still does her own. I gift one of the other women a jar each Christmas.

          Last year I taught Arayli and Amber how to make dill pickles. Arayli went home with five jars of her own. I texted with Amber and she is going one better…she is going to a U-Pick place and picking her own cucumbers…yay Amber. No one else in the family is interested in learning to make these fabulous treats. Perhaps once I’m gone and they discover the original recipe, someone will be eager to pick up the cucumber, so to speak. Besides teaching people how to make their own, I’ve also given the recipe away to countless folks. I don’t know how many went on to make their own pickles.

         

          A couple of things have changed over the decades I’ve been doing this. I used to peel a bulb of garlic for each and every jar. My hands would smell wonderful for days. Sometimes the skin would even peel as if I had been burned. I no longer peel garlic…my hands and wrists rebelled some years ago. Instead, I purchase the big pre-peeled bag from Costco. Since there’s so much to a bag and I don’t put up that many jars any longer, I usually try to share a bag with another pickle maker. Any that’s left over I chop, put into ice cube trays, freeze and use in recipes during the winter. 

          The other thing that has changed I actually did in the beginning. I let the cucumbers soak overnight in cold water and then scrubbed them one-by-one with a vegetable brush. When I complained about this to Aunt Lola, she asked me why I wasn’t putting them in the washing machine. Whoa, I can do that? So, for years, at least until my top-loading, not so electronic, washing machine gave up its life. I put the cucumbers in the washer, filled it with cold water, let it sit overnight and then spun the water and detritus out the following morning. The result was squeaky clean, bright green cucumbers. Now that washers are so “smart,” it’s not possible to do this, so it’s back to scrubbing with a vegetable brush…not so fun.

Great Aunt Lola’s dill pickles have once again been put up. They’ll be ready to eat in about a month and will be delicious over the coming months. At a time like this, it makes me feel very good to think Auntie Lola, wherever her spirit may reside these days, is pleased to know just how far her recipe and instructions have gone…and to know that I’m still pickling away all these years later.

PEEVISH QUESTIONS!!!

 

          How many of you have noticed the landscaping that’s being done alongside the new light rail adjacent I-5? I have and am amazed at the waste of funds. I’ve watched them grade, add topsoil and/or compost and then install nice plants. In one case between Mountlake Terrace and Lynnwood, they had to do it twice because it rained so hard gullies formed on the steep hillside.    It even appears as though there may be a sprinkler system unless those white pipes perform some other function.

          Now, don’t get me wrong, I love nice landscaping, but what makes me want to bang my head…or someone’s head…against the wall is the fact that adjacent these new plantings are areas, some of them large, full of weeds that have been growing there forever. How long before those weeds transplant themselves to the new planting areas, especially if there is a sprinkler system.

          How hard would it have been to plow up the entire area and eliminate those weeds? I’m sure that wasn’t in the scope of work which is why it didn’t get done. I’d also like to know how the sprinkler system, if there is one, is going to operate. From where will the system get the water? Who’s going to be responsible for turning it off and on and/or setting the timers so it happens. Finally, who is going to weed these huge areas of new plantings? 

          This also brings up another sort of peeve. Along Highway 99 in Snohomish County, they have installed planter barriers between the north and south lanes. These contain some lovely plants and are beautiful. Again, it looks as though there may be a sprinkler system for them, but it raises the same questions raised in the previous paragraph.

          There are other street plantings throughout King County and Seattle that were lovely when originally created. Unfortunately, they weren’t watered or weeded so now they are just unsightly concrete planters full of weeds. This makes me wonder if any of the planners for the light rail or Highway 99 looked around and saw what was created in the past. I seriously doubt they did so.

          At a time when funds are so badly needed for education and a wide variety of other necessities that would improve our society, city, county, state, country, world, it seems a huge waste of funding to build planters, install plantings in new areas only to leave them to deteriorate over time. And, yes, I know the plantings beside the light rail are undoubtedly there to help stabilize the hillside. Maybe the highway planters are to keep drivers from crossing and crashing.

          I don’t have any answers to my questions. I just know it bothers me enough to write this blog about the projects and my questions. Maybe, as I continue to age, I’m just getting more peevish about stuff or maybe it’s my wisdom kicking in.

HOUSEKEEPING

 

          A very long time ago, when my mother was younger than I am now, I would wonder why she didn’t completely clean her house. It wasn’t that it needed vacuuming or dusting all over, it was more the minor little things that she overlooked. For instance, her bathroom was always clean, but the dust on the shelves was thick. Didn’t she see all that dust? Didn’t she care?

          Well, I’m older now than she was then and I’ve become a horrible housekeeper. I look back and remember what a terrific job I used to do in my youth. A visitor could arrive any old time and find a clean house empty of dog hair, dust, and miscellaneous crap. Back then I even washed my own windows, inside and out, in a single day several times a year. Now, I pay someone to wash them inside and out once a year.

          I think perhaps the pandemic had a bit to do with my housekeeping downfall. For two years or more, no one came to visit. Why vacuum or dust or deep clean when it’s just for me, myself and I. None of us mind a bit of dog hair, dust, paw prints, etc. Now, it’s pretty much become a habit.

          It’s probably not a habit I’m going to change any time soon. True, I do clean the bathroom every week (usually). True, I do take the little vacuum around the house and slurp up dog hair dust bunnies. True, I do the dishes and keep the kitchen clean, but there are days when the everything goes into the sink until there’s no more room. It’s also true I do laundry and change my bed on a regular basis. But the weekly vacuuming and dusting I performed back in the day no longer gets done. It gets done basically when I cannot stand it any longer…and my threshold for these chores has become amazingly high.

          Whenever I know I’m going to have company, as in more than one person, I do get off my bottom and pull out all the stops. Then, I vacuum, scrub, dust, clean and carry on until everything sparkles. That’s the way my house used to look even back when I worked full-time…I cleaned on the weekends. So far this year, I’ve held one event where more than one person came to visit. As you can probably figure out, that’s the only time I worked my ass off to make my house look terrific.

          In writing this blog post, I was reminded of Erma Bombeck, an American humorist very popular for her newspaper column which described suburban home life. It was syndicated from 1965 to 1996. Erma also published 15 books, and most became best sellers.

          Anyway, Erma Bombeck wrote a column entitled, “If I had my Life to Live Over.” I think she knew she was dying when she wrote it. In any case, I’ve always remembered, not necessarily lines, but thoughts/ideas from that column. It dealt with things like having people over regardless of how messy the house was so she could cherish that time with friends and family.

          I like to think of Erma when I don’t feel like cleaning. If company should arrive, well, I’ll just value the time we get to spend together regardless of the dust, dog hair, messiness. Time with friends or even just with me, myself and I, doing stuff we enjoy is far more important…am reminding me, myself and I of that daily, sometimes more than once.

BLISS

           There are mornings, and this is one of them, when as I get out of bed, I’m contemplating just how many hours it will be before I can get back in the bed. It’s not that I want the “big sleep,” but more like my bed is the most comfortable place. I like laying there, snuggling my pillow or Kuma, watching TV, dozing and finally sleeping. It’s probably the most blissful activity in my life and doesn’t require a huge effort on my part.

          Yep, less than eleven hours now and I can enjoy that bliss once again. 

STAR TREK AND SPACE

 

          Every morning I have an email, “Space via IFTTT.” There’s always a photo of some star, galaxy or looking at space from an earth location. These photos always amaze me. I’m not a scientist nor have I done much studying or research about the heavens, but still, the information that accompanies the photo is almost beyond belief to me.

          I’ve always been a big fan of outer space…not a big enough one to actually go to school and obtain enough education to make it my profession. The closest I’ve come to something like that is “Star Trek.” I was fairly young when this became a hit TV show and I didn’t give a lot of thought to the science, whether it was made up or real, behind it. I went on to watch “The Next Generation,” “Deep Space Nine” and “Voyager,” but pretty much stopped there. I didn’t watch “Enterprise” or all the ones that followed. I often said that if an angel came down and offered me anything, I’d choose to serve on the bridge of the USS Enterprise under Captain Picard…love that Jean Luc.

          I am once again watching “The Next Generation.”  The Heros and Icons channel broadcasts all four above mentioned Star Treks beginning at 8:00 pm every night but Saturday night. It’s been long enough since I first watched that it’s like finding a new series all over again. I don’t continue beyond 10:00 pm because my eyes are closing.

          What I find myself wondering now is how much actual science went into the Star Trek programs. I would very much like to meet Gene Roddenberry, and yes, I know he’s passed on. What an imagination he must have had to come up with the original series and what imaginations the writers who followed him and kept the series alive must have had as well. Did they have an education that included space? Did they do a lot of research? Everything that is discussed, discovered, and included in these programs sounds authentic and potentially real.

          Then, there’s the way in which even the original Star Trek utilized the idea that we humans…and nonhumans…were all alike. It began with Lt. Uhura who was black and continued on through so many different kinds of “aliens” through all the Star Treks with Lt. Commander Worf, Cardassians, Betazoids, Romulans, etc. The programs taught without seeming to do so.

          Anyway, back to those IFTTT photos and accompanying information. The information includes things like cosmic winds (how can you have wind without atmosphere?), tidal streams (without water or a moon?), dust lanes, stellar explosions (without oxygen?) and a wide variety of other nouns for which I have no understanding.

          Then, there’s the term “light years.” Just how far is seven hundred light years? I once looked up just how far a light year was only to be shocked and amazed at the distance. How are they able to tell that light from a stellar explosion reached the earth in 1006 AD and that the results of that explosion are still expanding? How do they determine what is an aging star and what is an expanding star? I find myself asking all kinds of questions about the information provided and lack most of the answers.

          I haven’t mentioned the photos. Some of them are absolutely amazing. They look as though they’ve been painted by an artist. The colors are so vibrant and the notations often explain what chemical or elements cause a particular color. It also talks about infrared light versus other types of light. Almost all of it is beyond my poor brain’s ability to understand, but I’d frame just about any of these photos for my wall…they are definitely art, at least to me.

          It’s apparent from each day’s communique that the galaxy, make that galaxies, are continually expanding and growing or, for some, merging, or others have stars that have reached the ends of their lives. I find myself in awe of the people who are astronomers or astrophysicists. Their brains must be amazing, and it always sounds as though there is a new discovery, or discoveries, every single day. How exciting.

          I always thought I’d like to be an archeologist, but now I think if I could go back and begin again, I’d look toward stars and space instead. Better yet, I’d still like to serve on any one of the USS Enterprises and “…go where no one has gone before.”

USHERING

 

          When I was working, I always wanted to volunteer at the 5^th Avenue or the Paramount. I knew people who did, but whenever I checked into the possibility, the theaters didn’t need any more volunteers.

          I now don’t remember quite how my friend and I decided we would volunteer. I also don’t remember which one of us took the ticket by the stub and looked into the possibility. Doesn’t really matter.

          We began volunteering at the Village Theater in Everett the beginning of 2022. Then, we became volunteers at the 5^th Avenue. We both really like it and we’ve seen some amazing shows as a result without a cash outlay. I believe we are going to do it again for the 2023-2024 season.

          We take turns driving. For Everett, we have to drive up I-5, but for the 5^th Avenue, we drive to Northgate and take the train. I think the volunteer coordinators for both places began to wonder if we could tell time. For some reason, we were always late to Everett. For Seattle, somehow, we managed to stay on the train several stops past University Street which is where we wanted to debark. Good thing the planners leave a cushion for us late arrivals. Eventually, though, we finally got our shit together and began arriving on time.

          As ushers, we are the keepers of the doors. We keep attendees from going into the venue until the proper time arrives. There is wine, soda, maybe beer, cookies and other eatables available during the wait time for the early birds. Once the doors are opened, we greet the attendees, “Good afternoon.; Enjoy the Show.; Can I help you find your seat?; and give them a program. Once it’s time for the show to begin, we close the doors and find our allotted places from which we can watch the show. We’ve usually been told about the intermission and end, so we can be ready to jump up and open the doors. When the show’s over, we thank people for coming and tell them we hope they enjoyed the show.

          Then, it’s time to clean up after the show goers. We go row-by-row to pick up cups, bottles, programs and other detritus. We’re provided with gloves for this job, but it’s amazing just how little is actually left behind by the folks filling those seats.

          My favorite job is greeting and scanning the tickets of people coming through the doors. I’ve only done that once, but I’m hoping I can request that position this year. Once you get in the groove, it’s quite possible to catch the fact that some folks just don’t look at their tickets or maybe their calendars. The one time I did the doors, I had two sets of people who showed up on the wrong day…one was for the week before and the other for the week after. Staff take these folks under their wings and try to make arrangements so they can attend that particular show. Just depends on whether there are seats available.

          I know we tried to become ushers at the Paramount; however, it’s a whole separate system and those volunteers also work other locations, i.e., Seattle Rep, Moore, Neptune, ACT. We were unsuccessful, but I now know someone who has been doing it for years. She told me they definitely need volunteers, so I’m going to reach out to the volunteer coordinator and use my friend’s name. Perhaps that will get us in the door and we can stretch our volunteer wings.

          The 5^th Avenue will be showing “The Little Mermaid,” “Cambodian Rock Band,” “Irving Berlin’s White Christmas,” “Something’s Afoot,” “Spring Awakening,” and “Clue.” We haven’t yet been asked to sign up for shifts at the Village Theater, but I’m sure we’ll do that as well. Now, if we can just get on the volunteer list for the Paramount et al., we’ll have even more events to work and enjoy.

SHOPPING

 

          One thing I’ve really missed in my retirement is shopping. I always loved going to various stores and finding wonderful clothing on sale. I can think of only one time I actually purchased an item that wasn’t on sale. I thought it was on sale but it wasn’t; and I liked it so much, I just had to have it even though the actual price was $158.00.

          What brought on this reflection was putting a bunch of tops on Buy Nothing. They’re all perfectly good, but they just don’t fit me as well as they once did. I haven’t gained a lot of weight, but I do have more of a tummy than I used to plus I’ve developed muscles in my old age. That’s what happens when you go to a fitness class three times a week…you develop muscles.

          Anyway, it’s not that I couldn’t go shopping and buy myself whatever I wanted whether it was on sale or not. It’s more that I don’t need much in the way of clothes beyond what’s already in my drawers and closet. I have jean shorts and tank tops with shelf bras and that’s mostly what I’m wearing in the summer. I do have a couple of dresses and skirts if I want to not wear shorts. In winter, I have sweats and jeans and sweatshirts or flannel shirts to go over my tank tops.

          I don’t know what I’m going to do when all my Champion tank tops wear out, and having had them for more than ten years, they are slowly beginning to show their age. Champion doesn’t make 100% cotton tank tops any longer and they are very hard to find, even online. I’ve mistakenly bought some that are more poly and her sister ester, that stretch as well as the cotton tops, but I don’t like the way they feel. I’ve also bought some stretchy ones that don’t have the racer back. Instead, they have thin straps. I feel as though these are more underwear than outerwear.

          Ah well, what goes around comes around, so eventually, I’m sure they…whoever they are…will begin making cotton tank tops again. I just hope that happens before I have to resort to the other ones in my drawer. True, I could put them on Buy Nothing, but I’m keeping them in reserve just in case.

          About the only shopping I do these days is Costco and the grocery store. At Costco, I rarely look at the clothing they have available because there’s nothing I need or I don’t like the product. I have two heavy shirts I bought at Costco a few years a go and I don’t care for the way they feel or smell even when they are freshly laundered. Maybe they’ll go on Buy Nothing next.

          I do have to admit that at Costco and the grocery store, I buy myself whatever I want. I still look at the price of the item, but if it’s something I know I will eat/use, I buy it no matter the cost. I deserve it. I’m worth it. I enjoy it.

          You could say I still enjoy shopping, I guess. It’s just a different kind of shopping than I used to do…more for the inside as opposed to the outside.

GIFT FROM AN UNKNOWN READER???

          

         Sometimes I think I may be losing it. Sunday morning I opened my front door to find a box from Amazon. All the way to my desk and during the opening, I tried to remember what the heck I had ordered. As it turned out, absolutely nothing.

          Oh, there was something in the box, but it wasn’t something I ordered. It was a gift from I don’t know who. There was a note with the item that told me I could send a thank you note by scanning the code to the left or by visiting a given link. I tried scanning, but apparently, I don’t have the amazon app on my phone. Typing in the code didn’t help either.

          So, what was in the box. It was a product called a Pet Corrector. I read the information about the product…type was so tiny I had to use my handy-dandy magnifying glass. I also went to the web site and watched a few videos. I haven’t yet tried it because Kuma has been a good doggie so I haven’t had a need to correct him. I’m looking forward to taking him on a walk and see if it works when we come across another dog. He always lunges and barks his head off as though he’s a big huge mean wolf.

          I am assuming…making an ass of u and me…that someone read my blog about Kuma winning our barking battle and my giving up. How wonderful you are my dearest reader to have gone so far as to supply me with a tool that will correct Kuma’s bad habits. I thank you from the bottom of my heart even though I cannot seem to figure out how to send you a thank you via Amazon…and I do have the app on my phone after all.

          So thank you again and stay tuned…actually I guess it would be keep your eyes open…because I’ll blog about the great success the Pet Corrector has brought to both Kuma and I.

HAPPY ANNIVERSARY!!!

 

          Today is the fifty-seventh anniversary of the day I married John. I do so wish he were here so we could celebrate together, but if wishes were horses….

          Last year I took John’s orb and we went to dinner at a restaurant. I turned on the base, placed the orb on top and sat it across from me in the booth. I even had the waitress take photos of us. I’m not planning to do the same thing this year. I think I’ll hold off until we reach our sixtieth. And, since John cannot drive me home after as many martinis (maybe champagne for sixty) as I’d like to have, I might even rent a limo and/or call an uber to take me to and from.

          I think for today, I’ll spend some time looking through all the cards we gave each other over the years. Cards from the boys are interspersed throughout, so the process will give me way more than one memory lane to traverse. I also still have our wedding album and honeymoon photos as well as photos from every year we shared. I suppose I could haul all the albums and boxes out of the closet. It would make quite a mess and I’d undoubtedly have to add leaves to the table. Still, those boxes are stuffed with memories. Some would make me laugh, others bring a smile and still others make my eyes leak a lot. All in all, though, my walks down so many different memory lanes would leave me remembering how much I loved as well as how much I was loved.

          Not a bad way to spend the day. It would leave me feeling nostalgic but happy to have had all those years and memories.

Happy Anniversary to John and moi!!!

WHY I WRITE AND BLOG

 

          When I first began blogging a very long time ago, I had many reasons for doing so. The original blog I began in 2011 I cannot find anywhere any longer. I suppose the contents were deleted into the ether when I neglected to return after being absent for many years.

          I tried a couple of other times and even took a class, but never stuck with it until after John died. That’s when I began “Paula’s Widow’s Mite.” When I began, it was for several reasons. First, I thought my experiences might be helpful to other widows. Second, I figured my blog might attract a large following. And, finally, there was the small idea in the back of my brain that it might attract a publisher.

          Well, my number of followers never rose above maybe twenty as far as I could tell, and almost no one ever responded with a comment on the blog. Since I post the blog title and link on Facebook, there were/are some folks who comment on Facebook about what I wrote. And it’s true, when I was posting erotic fiction, chapter by chapter on my blog, I did end up having an interested publisher. Unfortunately, it was my first draft and needed a lot of work, so a book with my name on it won’t be appearing in the local bookstore anytime soon…or anytime at all for that matter. That’s because I decided I didn’t want to spend the energy on a massive revision.

          For a period of time, I didn’t write or blog at all. I just didn’t have the any enthusiasm or topics which made me want to do so. Don’t ask me what happened recently that led me to take up the keyboard and begin again…I just did.

          I’ve decided my main reason for writing and blogging is for my own interest and satisfaction. The topics about which I write and post may be of little interest to most people; however, I enjoy the process and end result. I’m doing it because it’s fun for me. Of course, when I do receive comments, either on Facebook or in my actual face, those comments, since they are positive, do make me feel good. 

          Of course, this doesn't mean I don't hope people will read my blogs and enjoy them because I most sincerely do. Still, I imagine if someone told me they hated a particular blog or said I was a horrible writer, I’d continue to write and blog simply because me, myself and I like doing so…a lot.

GOOD FOR ANOTHER TEN THOUSAND MILES OR TEN YEARS

 

          This past Tuesday afternoon I had my annual mammogram and saw my doctor face-to-face for the first time in far more than a year. That’s not to say we haven’t emailed or talked on the phone about minor concerns (mine) that didn’t require an appointment. This was a wellness visit.

          With Kaiser Permanente, you have to fill out a form prior to your appointment and I did that but also prepared a document which I attached to an email…the questionnaire wouldn’t let me attach anything. I wanted to make the best use of the forty minutes allotted to me with my doctor.

          Of course, no one had looked at the email, printed out my document and given it to Megan (MD’s name). Fortunately, I had brought my own copy and gave that to her. I had prepared it so my concerns for the visit were listed first, followed by things just for her information. Megan quickly scanned what I’d sent. I should say she also knows me because she’s been my doctor for at least ten years or more.

          Unfortunately, there’s not a lot that can be done for the peripheral neuropathy which was caused by a breast cancer drug…Cytoxan. The neuropathy has now moved up into my ankles and slightly higher in the left leg. They check this by having you close your eyes while they touch the bottom and top of your foot, then your ankle and calf. It looks like a long pin, but it’s rubber. I was supposed to tell her when I could feel the touch. She was well above my ankle on the right and a bit above on the left.

          I wore flip-flops to the doctor’s office because I knew we would talk about my feet. It is not, however, a good idea for me to drive in them since I cannot feel my feet. I almost rear-ended someone on the way to the doctor because my flip-flop got stuck behind the brake pedal. I yanked it out in time but it scared the crap out of me. I almost always wear actual shoes to drive because I can feel the pressure my foot makes against the pedals.

          We also talked about whether or not I have hammer toes that require treatment (surgery?), so I have a referral to a podiatrist. Only two of my toes actually bother me. They lay in such a way the toenail touches the shoe bottom. I need to keep my toenail as short as possible so there’s no pain. I don’t know if the podiatrist can help me, but I’ll find out.

          My blood pressure was a little elevated and I had just re-ordered lisinopril on Sunday. This morning I had an email telling me I needed to check my blood pressure on a regular basis and send in the results or I won't receive another refill. I didn’t think you’re supposed to take your own blood pressure, but I don’t see why I can’t, so I will.

          Most of the appointment was spent talking about how I am doing as far as friends and family goes, the various activities in which I’m involved, my daily life, and of course, Kuma (Megan loved his photo). At the end Megan told me she’s pleased and impressed with how I’ve come to manage my life since John’s death. It made me feel good to hear that because sometimes I don’t feel as though I am managing very well at all.

I needed no tests or follow-up aside from getting my Covid booster. I wanted to have the flu vaccine as well, but they won’t be giving those until September and I’ll get it then. So, here I am, good to go for another ten-thousand miles or ten years, whichever comes first.

I GIVE UP!!!

 

          Kuma has won. I give up. Tuesday night, we were already in bed and I was almost asleep. Kuma began barking, hopped off the bed and ran to the living room to stand on the couch, stare out the window and continue barking his fool head off. I kept saying loudly, “NO BARK!!!” but it did absolutely no good.

          I got myself out of bed and went down the hall, remote in hand and tried the noise button…no response, just more barking…, the vibration button…no response, more barking. So, I hit the shock button and Kuma yelped, hopped off the couch and headed for the bedroom.

          I felt very bad, but he no more got in the bedroom than he turned right around, ran back to the living room and began barking again. I followed and hit the shock button again…he yelped and I felt bad. We played this little game a couple of more times until I closed the bedroom door to keep him there.

          Apparently, the shocks made Kuma very nervous and upset. I was upset, but not nervous. He was up on the bed, off the bed, panting, growling and acting totally crazy. I put the remote away and took off the collar, thinking Kuma would calm down if he didn’t have to worry about being shocked.

          Well, that didn’t work either. He did get up and stay on the bed, but he continued growling and making little barks. I wasn’t going to get to go to sleep; in fact, I was now wide awake…wide awake and pissed. So, I picked Kuma up, walked down the hall to the dining room and pushed him into his crate. He spent the night there and seemed just fine this morning.

          After I put him in his kennel, I looked out all the windows to see if there was something going on that was making Kuma bark. There was nothing and no one that I could see. I could see the young man next door in his kitchen with someone. The window was open so could it have been that Kuma could hear them talking and that was what he found upsetting? Don’t know, just wish he’d save his barks for daytime and not when I’m going to sleep.

          Anyway, I don’t know if Kuma enjoyed his night, but I certainly enjoyed mine. I slept like a log and didn’t wake up until after 8:30 am (Kuma gets me up at 6:30 am). It was later I realized the Covid booster shot I received Tuesday afternoon was most likely responsible for my long sleep.

          Today, Wednesday, I took Kuma to bally-ball hill. I chucked his tennis ball repeatedly and he was a good doggie. There was an older man and woman picking blackberries; and while Kuma went up to them, he didn’t try to jump on them. There was also another couple that came into the area with a dog on a leash. They walked around the perimeter of the field. Kuma was interested but didn’t bark or try to chase after them and their dog. Those were both improvements in his behavior.

          One thing I love about taking him to bally-ball hill is that Kuma lets me know when he’s done chasing after the ball. He goes past me with the ball in his mouth to the car. I open the back door to get his bowl, but when I open the front door, he tries to get inside. When I begin pouring water into his bowl, he gets back out and drinks a lot. Then, it’s back inside where he pants all the way home.

          Today, I didn’t put Kuma’s shock collar on or pick up the remote. I couldn’t stand how he yelped last night and how upset he was as a result. So, Kuma wins. No more shock collar. I’ll just have to wear earplugs when I go to bed, I guess.

PERCEPTION

 

          As I was drifting off to sleep last night, thoughts about perception began to crawl through my mind. Surprisingly, this morning I was able to recall what I’d been thinking about…perception, and how it changes over time.

          When I was under the age of eight, I lived in a small community in Idaho, which I know I’ve mentioned before. During that time, and most likely because I was so young, my perception of my surroundings was totally different than what I saw when I returned there in my early twenties.

          Our house had a detached garage. The front yard had a picket fence and there was space to park a car in front of the fence. Beyond that was the road and on the other side was a huge field which ended at the creek. These were vast distances to me back then and that’s how I always remembered that place.

          When John and I returned there on one of our car trips, I was amazed to see there was no space in front of the fence (which had disappeared) to park a car. The road ran right in front of my house and all the other houses that were still there. I could practically stand on the painted line in the middle of the road and spit into the river. My perception of a place that had remained huge in my head had shrunk by a lot. I know the canyon sides didn’t move, nor did the canyon floor shrink. Everything just seemed a lot bigger when I was smaller.

          When we first moved into this house, we had few belongings. When we talked or laughed, there was an echo. Now, there is no echo and I don’t believe it will return until all the belongings I’ve/we’ve accumulated are boxed up and taken out. The house seemed huge then, but with the addition of two sons and all the stuff brought in, the house became small. Even now, with just me and Kuma here and pretty much only using one of three bedrooms, it seems small (except when it’s time to clean).

          Visitors, and even those who haven’t visited but have been told, believe I have a beautiful garden. That’s their perception. My perception is that it needs a ton of work. I don’t see just the beauty, but the weeds, spacing, and labor the garden requires. There are times I allow myself to perceive my garden as beautiful. It’s usually at the end of the day when I’m relaxing on the deck, surrounded by greenery and blossoms, with the water feature making a lovely sound.

          There are times when I wish I was able to read minds. I’d love to be able to know what perceptions family, friends and maybe even complete strangers have of me when they meet me, get to know me, become a part of my life, or move on out of my life. The main reason for this is that I often feel that a lot of people do not see me as I see myself.

          My perception of me is that I’m loving, generous, thoughtful, considerate, helpful, and always want to, and try to, put my best self forward. Depending on the person being contemplated, I often don’t believe that is the opinion held by him or her. That’s not to say I haven’t been, and will most likely be again, a complete bitch. But, when I’ve been the bitch, I always try to make amends, apologize, do whatever I need to do to get back in that person’s good graces. Unfortunately, I don’t think I’m always successful. So, perhaps it’s a good thing I am unable to read minds.

          Finally, there’s my perception of my current life. I believe I am extremely fortunate to have the life I now have. Is that the perception others have about my life?  Do they believe I’m doing just fine as a widow? Do they believe I’m completely happy with my lot? Again, I’d like to know the opinions of some people. Knowing their views probably wouldn’t change how I feel about my life and how I’m living it, but it would be interesting nonetheless to know.

          Perhaps tonight when I’m falling asleep, my mind will bring up another topic about which I can provide my own perceptions. Sweet dreams.

WHINE, WHINE, WHINE

 

          This may be a whiney blog…whiney about more than one thing too. And, I really don’t have a serious reason to be whiney, but that’s how I’m feeling today (Sunday).

          I hate feeling sticky. The weather yesterday and again today is warm and humid as in the air feels thick. The very act of breathing makes me feel sticky. Actually, doing something that requires muscle use makes me really sticky. Today was the day I water everything in my garden except the grass which is well and truly dead. Just walking from front to back and setting up the hoses/sprinklers made me feel as though I need a shower…a cold shower.

          And, okay, it could be way worse. I could live in one of the southern states that have had temperatures over 100 degrees for days, weeks, months. But it’s a dry heat they tell me, but I still think that has to feel really hot. Of course, most have air conditioning (I think), so it’s a quick walk from one air-conditioned location to another. So, yes, I agree I probably don’t have a lot to whine about here, but I HATE feeling sticky.

          It hasn’t been long since I blogged about my pot garden and the flowerbed gardens, but I’m tired of them today as well. I’m tired of having to water everything so it stays alive and continues to produce and/or bloom. I’ve also reached the point I reach at some point during the summer where I feel as though I’m done, just done. I’m at that point now where I’d be happy to begin putting the garden away for the winter and most of my dahlias haven’t even begun to bloom yet. I’m sure I’ll feel differently tomorrow or whenever movement doesn’t leave me feeling sticky.

          My final whine (I think) is about Kuma. He is one very smart doggie so why can he not learn two things I’d love for him to learn, i.e., no bark and no dig. I went back to bed this morning and left the door open so he could come and go. He went all right, right out to a place he’s dug before and dug not one area there, but three. He’s after the moles, I think. So, once again, I’ll need to scrape the dirt back into the holes. And why is there always less dirt to go back in the hole than what came out? Once I’ve replaced the dirt there, and in another location, I’m going to put metal grids over the dirt so he cannot dig there again.

          Kuma simply will not get the “no bark” command. Today, he made me so angry I upped the number on his shock collar. He yelped and I felt extremely bad. I’ve used the sound button and the vibration button as well as the shock button on a low setting, but maybe it’s going to take a bigger shock to make him stop barking. I don’t even know why or at what he’s barking because I can’t see anything out the window. So, what will make me feel worse, giving him an actual shock or putting up with his ignoring my “no bark?”  I’ll probably feel worse if I make him yelp again…I felt so cruel I wanted to kneel and love him all over to let him know how sorry I was.

          I guess I do have one more whine and it has to do with my resilience. And, okay, I know I’m much older than I once was and it’s probably the reason. Still, when I spend an entire day working away at whatever the project may be…yesterday it was taking all my plants outside and giving them a nice bath; cleaning up the areas in which they reside, washing all the plates that go beneath to catch water, and then hauling them all back inside. Yes, they look wonderful, all bright and shiny, plus I changed the way some are displayed and added a few new ones that required transplanting. I also baked a pork roast in the early morning so I can have pulled pork sandwiches.

          There was a time when I had hanging plants at every single window, plus a three-tiered display at one end of the living room. Back in that day, I would haul the plants out, transplant those that needed it, hose them off, clean and oil the shelves, wash the plates, and then haul them all back inside. Back then, I did the entire thing in one day. Today, I have about six more plants that need to be transplanted and returned inside and I’m feeling very tired. I’m not sure I’ll get to those plants today.

          I’m sure if I sat here a while longer, I could find moer things about which to whine, but I’m not going to do that. I actually feel a bit better and more energized now that I’ve whined for two pages. Thank you for reading and understanding.

GRANDKIDS...DON'T YOU JUST LOVE THEM.

          Grandkids…don’t you just love them. I found out almost twenty-two years ago just how wonderful having a grandchild could be when Haley was born. I was and still am so in love with the woman she has grown into, plus I’ve had the joy of watching her do so as the years passed.

         

Arayli came into my life about twelve years ago when her mom and my Thor became a couple. She also brought joy into my life and I’ve loved watching her grow from that toddler to the burgeoning young woman she is today. I’m looking forward to seeing what kind of choices she makes as she continues to mature.

          Xander was born almost nine years ago; and it’s been like having and watching his father, Thor, all over again. In fact, I sometimes call him Thor because he so strongly resembles his dad. I was delighted to have another baby to hold and love on.

          As it was with Haley, I was in and out of Xander’s house and had him at least once a week or so as he went from baby to toddler to young boy. He brought so much joy into my life and that of his grandpa who doted on his grandson. I’m not sure Xander will remember his grandpa, but I hope he has a few memories, i.e., sharing his blueberries and raspberries with grandpa.

          Unfortunately, covid came along and I didn’t have the chance to spend time with pretty much any of the grandkids. They grew and changed so much during that time that I don’t feel as though I know them very well at all. I feel guilty some times because I did so much with Haley when she was young, but haven’t had the opportunity in the last few years to spend much time with Arayli and Xander.

          What brought this blog on is that I spent this past Wednesday with Arayli and Thursday with Xander. I’m blogging about this on Friday; and let me tell you, I’m exhausted. Eight trips to and from Snohomish is a lot of driving when I don’t drive all that far on a regular basis.

          Arayli wanted to go for sushi and we did so, to a new place at Alderwood Mall. It must be how sushi is prepared and served in Japan although I don’t really have any idea. There was a robot that went around the restaurant and delivered glasses of water. Maybe it delivers other things, but I didn’t see food or dirty dishes on the robot’s shelves.

          We ordered through an electronic menu. I figured the waiter that wandered around would bring our food. Instead, it came via a conveyer belt that stopped at our booth. We opened the plastic container and removed our dishes. The bill did not arrive electronically, however, so they have some improvements to go. Arayli said it was the best sushi she’d ever had.

          Thursday, Xander wanted to go to the zoo and I opted to take him to Cougar Mountain Zoo in Issaquah. The parking lot is tiny and I was beginning to think we’d have to see if we could park on the street when I realized there were two open spots right in front. There was no signage saying I couldn’t park there so I did.

          About the only impressive thing at this zoo is the collection of bronze statuary. There are pieces located all over the place consisting of animals the zoo does exhibit and ones it does not. A couple of the exhibits were sort of naturalistic, but most were concrete and bars and wire. Very hard to take a photo of some of the animals with bars and wire in the way. It’s also a very small zoo, but the staff seemed very friendly, knowledgeable and happy to be staff members.

          The gift shop was very small with mostly toys and stuffies for sale. The zoo also did not have a restaurant…only a machine that dispensed water and sodas. I do think this zoo is supported very well. There were many pavers with names and other instances where donors were listed. And, I’m sure all the statuary was either gifted or donated.

          When I paid admission, I also bought little cups of chopped apple. Xander fed the raindeer by throwing apple pieces into the exhibit. At the deer and alpaca exhibits, these animals took the apples right from his hand. His favorite was the alpaca because they had such soft heads and noses. Xander’s very favorite was the wolves. There were supposed to be four in the exhibit and he easily found the three white ones. It took some time and a revisit to find the dark gray one. Xander believes the dark gray one is the alpha.

          After the zoo, I drove into the Triple XXX in Issaquah for lunch. Xander’s cheeseburger was as big as mine. I figured he might eat half, but he surprised us both and only left a couple of bites. I was amazed to find out the restaurant only takes cash or checks. They do have an ATM ($3.50 to use) and luckily I had my debit card so I could obtain cash and pay the bill. I wonder what they do if the patron isn’t able to access cash via the ATM.

I remember Triple XXX from when I was young and the great rootbeer. The rootbeer is now $7.95 for a chilled beer mug full and was as delicious as I remember. I think this Triple XXX is the last one around here, and it’s a bit like a museum inside. People have written their names or other messages on dollar bills and these are taped, stapled, glued all over the place. It also contains old car engines, photos of past customers and a wide variety of other memorabilia. I even saw a funeral program for someone.

Anyway, we had fun, or at least I did. Xander and I are going to Woodland Park Zoo in a couple of weeks. I don’t yet know what Arayli would like to do at some point before school begins.

So, as I began this blog post…grandkids…just love, love, love them.