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. 

NEIGHBORS' NIGHT OUT

 

          Tuesday was Neighbor’s Night Out (NNO). This is an event the neighborhood has done for I don’t know how many years. The first one wasn’t held on the actual event night, but at a later date. It was held so we could all say farewell to a family that had been good neighbors for many years. Their children had grown up with mine, they’d played together, shared overnights, etc., and it was the first close family to leave my neighborhood burrow so to speak.

          Various people have been responsible for organizing and holding the event. Initially it was me, then me and another woman, then a couple and finally two couples. The event was originally held at the end of the street in the driveway and yard of two neighbors. For the last few years it’s been at the end of the south cul-de-sac in front of the host family’s home. Next year, if we managed to bully my next-door neighbor into taking on the responsibility, it will be held adjacent my house in his driveway and yard.

          My contribution has always been the Neighborhood Directory. This was started decades ago by a woman who no longer lives here. It was taken up and revised by the child of another neighbor as her senior project. I took it on when NNO became a regular event. I update it each year with any information neighbors want changed and/or add information for new neighbors that have moved here during the year.

          The directory was originally (and still is) prepared in Publisher. Various neighbors have asked for an electronic copy, but none of them have Publisher, so they get a hard copy which I print and collate and provide at NNO or place in their mailbox if they were unable to attend. It contains cell phone numbers, names of children and ages, names and breed of pet as well as an emergency contact. Based on the response to my inquiring emails about revisions, I believe it is a valued document. I’m seriously thinking of moving the information to Word for 2024. That way, I could provide an electronic copy.

          At 5:00 pm, it didn’t look as though there was going to be an event, but by 6:00 pm, tables, canopies, chairs, grills, even flowers in vases on the tables thronged the street. Then, by 8:30 pm, it had all been taken down. NNO was attended by about half the neighbors that live in the cul-de-sacs. I printed out twenty-seven directories and had to place 13 into the various mailboxes.

          Brats and hot dogs went on the grill, salads, side dishes, chips, dips, fruit, plates and utensils lined the tables and the feast began. Every family brought something to share and it was all very tasty. I had the first brat I’ve had in 2023 and I want the recipe for the watermelon salad. I contributed chocolate zucchini bread which disappeared as did the lemon bars another woman made. I came home very full, but not uncomfortable.

          It was so good to see everyone in one place, to be able to have a conversation, as opposed to just waving as we drive past each other in our cars. My neighborhood has a wide variety of ages, now mostly middle-aged, but time is marching on. There is only one woman left from when I moved here. I was seriously hoping she would attend as she always has, but at ninety-nine, it was simply beyond her this year. I did get to see and hold (I felt very special) the newest member, a three-month old baby boy. There’s also another baby due to a different family in September. The families even live next door to each other so they’ll be playmates.

          Since I am now the second-oldest as well as the second-longest neighbor in residence, I’m sure the time will come I’ll end up in first place. Eventually, I, too, will be gone, but it gives me pleasure to think a young family will move in here. It also gives me pleasure to think the Neighbors’ Night Out will, hopefully, continue for many years to come. It is, I believe, a tradition well worth continuing. 

KUMA GRADUATES TO ADULT FOOD AND HAS A SHOWER

 
          Just a bit sad on Monday…Kuma graduated from puppy food to adult food. I realize there’s no comparison to when I gave up nursing or the boys began eating real food in their high chairs. From there, they graduated to eating at the table with mom and dad. Those were all sad and happy occasions. The only family member that took the latter stages very sadly were our doggies. They loved sitting by the high chair and gobbling up all the various foods that didn’t make their way into the boys’ mouths.

          Kuma now weighs about 45 pounds, but on Sunday it felt more like a hundred. He needed a shower and it’s not his idea of a good time. Once I had everything prepared, I had to pick him up off the couch where he was cowering and carry him to the bathroom door. Once the shower was running and the water warm, I had to again lift him up and push him into the shower.

          He does fine once we’re in there, but again wants to cower against the shower wall so I can’t wash both sides without getting him to move. On Sunday, he almost escaped. I was scrubbing his back legs and thankfully had a good hold on one of them. Kuma pushed the shower door opened and had three legs outside the shower with me hanging on and pulling on the fourth one. What a mess it would have been if he got away and shook suds and water all over the bathroom.

          Once I finished my shower and dried myself, I hauled out the blow dryer. Kuma doesn’t mind that appliance and will come to have air blown on him when I’m trying to dry my own hair. He didn’t sit still so I could dry him completely, but he was just a bit damp when I released him from the bathroom.

          My body didn’t let me know I’d overdone until I got up Monday morning. Then, my lower back wasn’t very happy at all. My home exercises and fitness class loosened it up some, but the heating pad was utilized before the day was done.

          I don’t regret the back pain because Kuma smells good again and his fur feels like silk. He’s my Cutsie Putsie Kuma.

SEVEN DEADLY SINS OR AM I GOING TO HELL???

 

          Recently I was thinking about how envious I become in certain situations. This led me to think about and look up the seven deadly sins. To my surprise, I think I have been guilty of each and every one at some point or another in my life. Does that mean I’m going to hell, if there is a hell?

          What led me to being recently envious was car trips a few of my friends have taken with their husbands. There was one that lasted for days and included their doggies and multiple states. I looked at the photos on Facebook and my eyes, I’m sure, became grass green. I envied their coupleness and their travels together.

          Now, that doesn’t mean I can’t take a road trip. Kuma would be great company except when the time would come for us to get out of the car…and maybe even times in the car. Kuma simply cannot stand the sight of another dog when he’s in the car or on a leash. I’m seriously thinking about having the woman who did the training classes work with him one-on-one because I don’t seem to be very successful in eliminating this behavior even though I actually resorted to a (lots of guilt and feeling bad here) shock collar.

          Anyway, I digress. The fact is there is nothing that is keeping me from hitting the road with or without Kuma. I know other women who travel alone and seem to enjoy their trips. I also have traveled alone, but at the end of the day, or sometimes even during the day, it would bring me such joy to share with a companion. What it boils down to is whether or not my desire to get moving is great enough to make me move.

          Now, lust is another of those seven sins and I must admit I have suffered from/with that at times in my life…but not recently. Still, I have great memories of those lustful occasions and the great enjoyment they were able to bring to my mind and body. I don’t think there’s a single lustful memory I wouldn’t be happy, nay eager, to repeat just once more.     

          Pride is another sin I’ve held on to for most of my life. I don’t think I’ve allowed it to interfere with whatever was or is going on in my life. I’m sure if you’re reading these blogs, you may think I suffer from being proudful and I admit that I am when it comes to things like my garden, dog, and ability to live my life alone. There are many other events and occasions in which I’ve taken or do take pride in, i.e., career, long marriage, home, children, grandchildren, me, myself and I. These were not typed in the order of importance, but merely as they popped into my fingers. I think my marriage and my children/grandchildren would top the list when it comes to importance.

I don’t think I’ve ever suffered from gluttony, greed or sloth. I cannot think of any instances where I would have committed these sins, at least not in a major way or for a very long period of time.

The final sin is wrath and I admit to having sinned. There have been times in my life where my rage has known no bounds. I could have and would have easily killed off the person(s) at whom my ire was directed. The only thing that stopped me from permanently eradicating this/these people was prison. Instead, I did the only thing available which was to jettison them from my life. Fortunately, as I grew more mature (older), I came to the realization that becoming this upset and/or hanging on to the resentment was only hurting me, myself and I. At this point in time, and for a number of years now, I’ve been able to think about the recipients of my rage and feel peaceful as opposed to annoyed.

So, am I destined for hell?  I really don’t know because first I’m not sure actually is a hell; and if there is, I tend to wonder how many of my family and friends would greet me on arrival.

MY POT FARM

 

          Something else that’s making me happy is my pot farm…no, not that kind of pot (although that kind of pot would probably make me very happy as well), but vegetables in pots. They are all doing quite well and I’m a happy harvester and hope to keep doing so for a few more months.

          Last year was a horrible year for my pot farming. My tomatoes did not do well for the first time in a very long time. I usually had way more than enough to give to family and friends, but not last year. I was lucky to have enough for myself. The same for the zucchini (and who can’t grow zucchini???), but the delicata squash did provide me with a few succulent fruits.

          I wasn’t sure I would actually farm this year, but I went ahead and bought the dirt at Costco since I’d had Haley and her guy empty out all the pots last fall. They sat dormant over the winter and I cleaned them and sprayed with a 50/50 combination of water and bleach to kill off any fungi or other bacteria that might have been responsible for my poor return last year.

          Apparently, my decision to do that has paid off. So far, I’ve harvested enough snow peas to have two servings as well as cut up a handful in my salad. I also have another huge serving waiting in the fridge. I’ve harvested enough zucchini to give one away, make a loaf of chocolate zucchini bread, put some in my salad and make zucchini fritters twice. Tomatoes are now beginning to get ready to harvest, but I’ve been able to eat all that’s been produced so far. There’s lots more on the way though.

          I’ve one small delicata squash I could probably harvest now, but I’m going to wait. There appear to be several others growing. Unfortunately, with both the delicata and the zucchini, the fruit begins to form and then it turns yellow and falls off. I may be watering them too much, but I’ve cut back so will have to wait and see if that was the problem.

          Finally, the raspberry bushes gave me almost a gallon bag of berries.  I’m planning to cut them way back this fall and restring the wire. Part of the problem this year was the lack of wire support. It is also trying to spread elsewhere and I’m ignoring those vines. I’ll dig them up in the fall and put them back in the bed where they belong.

          The Karlberg Memorial Apple Tree even produced one (1) apple this year after not producing anything for years. I had the tree pruned, but that wasn’t the first time I did so during its dormant period so I have no idea why it gave me one apple…maybe to tease me by reminding me how good they are. I did pick it too soon so it wasn’t quite as juicy as I would have liked, but Kuma and I ate the whole thing. Perhaps the bees were out and about when the tree blossomed this year, although it didn’t have a lot of blossoms either.

          As for other plantings in the garden and not in pots, I found out the beautiful yellow bush I like is actually loosestrife. Loosestrife has a reputation for spreading like wildfire and is hard to eliminate. I have white loosestrife I dug up and eliminated years ago, but I noticed it’s back this year. I’m going to dig up the yellow one, divide and replant it in in a couple of places where it can spread if it likes. My peonies were lovely for about a day and then the rain pretty much did them in. The cala lilies continue to spread all over the place even though I keep trying to dig them up…they must be talking to the loosestrife. They are done blooming as are almost all the other lilies. The dahlias are getting ready to blossom…two opened just this week and I’m hoping they do well this year. The bee balm is blooming, my Auntie’s fuchsia and the various hydrangea are blooming away as well.

          If you were a true gardener or a professional, you’d look around my garden and find lots of things you would have done differently. It’s definitely not going to appear as one of the gardens in the Lake Forest Park Garden Tour. But, that’s just fine with me. I enjoy sitting on my deck with coffee, ice tea, a drink or glass of wine and looking at what my efforts have produced. I pat me, myself and I on the back and tell me, myself and I that eventually, sooner or later, whenever, we’ll get out there and work to make it look even better. Meanwhile, we’re all happy with our results.

SCHOOL MEMORIES

 

          The other day I was having a conversation with my granddaughter Haley. We were talking about how she’d like to live in the country at some point in time. This led to my telling her about a couple of Idaho memories that came to me just then.

          It must have been first or second grade when the class learned how butter was made. The teacher brought in a Mason jar of cream. While she read us a story, we passed that jar from desk to desk, each of us shaking the contents for however long our allotted turn lasted. It was amazing how eventually we ended up with butter which the teacher spread on saltines and we all sampled.

          Haley told me there was some report on TikTok about how people were putting cream in a container then into a plastic bag and finally into the dryer. As that bag flopped around in the dryer, it apparently made butter. I don’t think there were clothes dryers in 1950.     

          In probably second grade, the class made ice cream in an old ice cream churn. Again, the teacher brought the churn and cream to class, and I remember some of the boys being sent outside into to scoop up snow and ice to help with the process. I don’t remember much else about it although I’m sure we all got a chance to help churn the cream.

          I haven’t thought about that old school in some time. It was past Burke and the silver mine, across the bridge over the river and up a hill. I think there were enough kids back then to make up one class per grade. It didn’t have a kindergarten, so my mom lied about my age and put me in first grade when I was four, almost five years old. It was fine though because I was already reading. I believe it held grades one through six, but it could have been through eighth grade. I don’t remember if there was a junior high school, but I’m sure there was a high school which would have been in Wallace.

          We began every day saying the Pledge of Allegiance and singing the Star Spangled Banner. I don’t remember much else about the classes (I only attended through third grade). I do remember learning to write cursive. It was the old Palmer Method of Cursive Writing. I never became an exemplary student of this method, eventually trying various methods of writing. I tried writing backward as though left handed, tried printing rather than writing, and finally ended up with a sort of cross between printing and writing. The one person I’ve known who had beautiful Palmer Penmanship was a previous boss. I never ever had to try to figure out what he wrote because the penmanship was perfect.

          Now, of course, my writing is absolutely horrible. I thought perhaps it was because I’m older, but I think the problem is that I rarely write anything out. I write a few checks each month, short reminder notes sometimes, but that’s about it. So, I think my handwriting suffers simply because I don’t utilize it. I wonder what my old boss’ penmanship looks like now?

          I began fourth grade in Burke Elementary, but the family moved and I ended up at B.F.Day in Seattle. I remember being shocked by the fact the curriculum (which was a word I didn’t know then) seemed to be the same as what I’d had in third grade in Burke. My mom always thought that’s when I became lazy about schoolwork and it might have been. I do remember one spelling test where I misspelled one word and was so upset with myself. The word was field and I spelled it feild. I knew that word, had already had it and still missed.

          To get to school in Idaho, I had to catch a bus that took me up the canyon. There was always a passel of us waiting to get on to go as well as to come home. Imagine my surprise when we moved to Seattle and I had to walk from my house to the school…all uphill!!! Even after graduating to junior and high school, I walked to and from. There were no Seattle school busses then because most children attended their neighborhood schools. At least that’s how I remember it.

          There may have been Seattle school busses by the early 1960s because I remember my senior year of high school, there were three black students, the first ever during my time there. Two girls and one boy and they pretty much hung out together on their own. I remember feeling sorry for them because they seemed a little lost and yet I didn’t make a single friendship overture. I’m sorry about that now because getting to know them could have added much to my life and maybe theirs as well. 

           It’s funny how Haley talking about wanting to eventually live out in the country led to these memories, days after our conversation. Guess my old 286 is still plugging away up there.