Positively Honest

This story reminds me of something similar that happened when we moved 5 years ago into our townhouse.

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Woman loses ring in fudge, gets it back Sat Dec 29, 8:14 PM ET



LAFAYETTE, Ind. - A woman whose diamond ring vanished while she was making fudge for a bake sale was despondent after scouring her home and finding no sign of it.



But Linda Vancel recently got a sweet surprise: A relative of the woman who bought the fudge found the ring when he bit into a piece of the candy.

"It's a very sentimental ring," Vancel said of the white gold ring her mother, who died 15 years ago, wore for 50 years before passing it on.

Linda Rhoades bought the fudge during a bake sale in West Lafayette. She took some of it to her sister-in-law's father, Charles "Red" Matson, in hopes of cheering him up after recent health problems.

When Matson snacked on a piece of the fudge, he bit into something hard — the ring.

Rhoades said Matson called her and said, "Well, Linda, it's got chocolate all over it, but it doesn't look adjustable. It's got a stone that's really shiny."

Vancel said she had scoured her home, even dumping the trash can on the kitchen floor to sort through the rubbish for the ring. Finally she thought to track down Rhoades and sent her a long-shot e-mail, which Rhoades returned as soon as she got back from vacation.

"It renews your faith in people," Vancel said. "Sometimes there's so much negative in the world, to hear a story like this is reassuring."
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When we moved into our townhouse we did some extensive remodeling and the counter tops and cabinets in the kitchen were covered with a lot of fine sheet rock dust. We hired some cleaning ladies to come in and help clean up the mess through out. One of the ladies is the wife of a moving company employee and she runs a small cleaning company. They all immigrated from South America as few years back. The moving company, "Truck And I," has achieved good success with hard work and perseverance. Except for Hazel, the boss and owner of the small cleaning company, the other two ladies were strangers to us.

As they worked hard at wiping out the insides of the cabinets, one of them, called me to come into the kitchen. She held out her hand and showed me a ladies ring, gold and set with some lovely stones. I could tell at once it was valuable. I told her "This is not my ring.The previous owner must have accidently left her ring in the cabinet."

I thanked her and praised her for her honesty and proceeded to call Mrs T, from whom we purchased the house.

Turns out it WAS her ring and she had not missed it in the hustle and bustle of their moving. She has three small children and was distracted by all the packing as they were planning to move to Canada where her husband was opening a branch of an Atlanta company

Mrs T came by immediately and retrieved her ring. She said it had great sentimental value. It was her engagement ring.

I have always thought this was a lovely story. Mrs T asked for Hazel's phone number so she could call and send a reward to her honest employee.

Isn't this an inspirational story. Do you have any similar positive experiences you can remember?

"It renews your faith in people," Vancel said. "Sometimes there's so much negative in the world, to hear a story like this is reassuring."

HAPPY NEW YEAR

New Year's Resolutions:

Since New Year's Resolutions are so hard to keep here are some easy ones:



"Are you sick of making the same resolutions year after year and yet you never keep them? Here are some resolutions that you can actually accomplish! Enjoy! :-)

10. Read less.


9. I want to gain weight. Put on at least 30 pounds.

8. Stop exercising. Waste of time.

7. Watch more TV. I've been missing some good stuff.


6. Procrastinate more.

5. Drink. Drink some more.

4. Start being superstitious.

3. Spend more time at work.


2. Stop bringing lunch from home: I should eat out more.

and last but not least...

1. Take up a new habit: maybe smoking!"

Annual Christmas Message

THE WALL STREET JOURNAL

"In Hoc Anno Domini'
Vermont Royster's annual Christmas message.

Tuesday, December 25, 2007 12:01 a.m. EST

"This editorial was written in 1949 by the late Vermont Royster and has been published annually since.

When Saul of Tarsus set out on his journey to Damascus the whole of the known world lay in bondage. There was one state, and it was Rome. There was one master for it all, and he was Tiberius Caesar.

Everywhere there was civil order, for the arm of the Roman law was long. Everywhere there was stability, in government and in society, for the centurions saw that it was so.

But everywhere there was something else, too. There was oppression--for those who were not the friends of Tiberius Caesar. There was the tax gatherer to take the grain from the fields and the flax from the spindle to feed the legions or to fill the hungry treasury from which divine Caesar gave largess to the people. There was the impressor to find recruits for the circuses. There were executioners to quiet those whom the Emperor proscribed. What was a man for but to serve Caesar?

There was the persecution of men who dared think differently, who heard strange voices or read strange manuscripts. There was enslavement of men whose tribes came not from Rome, disdain for those who did not have the familiar visage. And most of all, there was everywhere a contempt for human life. What, to the strong, was one man more or less in a crowded world?

Then, of a sudden, there was a light in the world, and a man from Galilee saying, Render unto Caesar the things which are Caesar's and unto God the things that are God's.

And the voice from Galilee, which would defy Caesar, offered a new Kingdom in which each man could walk upright and bow to none but his God. Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me. And he sent this gospel of the Kingdom of Man into the uttermost ends of the earth.

So the light came into the world and the men who lived in darkness were afraid, and they tried to lower a curtain so that man would still believe salvation lay with the leaders.

But it came to pass for a while in divers places that the truth did set man free, although the men of darkness were offended and they tried to put out the light. The voice said, Haste ye. Walk while you have the light, lest darkness come upon you, for he that walketh in darkness knoweth not whither he goeth.

Along the road to Damascus the light shone brightly. But afterward Paul of Tarsus, too, was sore afraid. He feared that other Caesars, other prophets, might one day persuade men that man was nothing save a servant unto them, that men might yield up their birthright from God for pottage and walk no more in freedom.

Then might it come to pass that darkness would settle again over the lands and there would be a burning of books and men would think only of what they should eat and what they should wear, and would give heed only to new Caesars and to false prophets. Then might it come to pass that men would not look upward to see even a winter's star in the East, and once more, there would be no light at all in the darkness.

And so Paul, the apostle of the Son of Man, spoke to his brethren, the Galatians, the words he would have us remember afterward in each of the years of his Lord:

Stand fast therefore in the liberty wherewith Christ has made us free and be not entangled again with the yoke of bondage."

Christmas Tree Update

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I did get a "real tree"

Yesterday, when I went to the Publix Grocery store, this pretty little 3 ft tall green fir tree with a red bow on top had my "name on it".

We put it on the front stoop. With the red bow on top and one lone keepsake Snoopy ornament, it is now my Charlie Brown Christmas Tree..

My husband,Sam, teased me when he saw it and said. "You JUST had to have a REAL tree didn't you?"

I had not thought of that aspect of my purchase but subliminally perhaps he is right.

Anyway, I now have the best of both worlds.

Merry Christmas to ALL!!
&
Happy Holidays

The search.

For over 50 years I have been a purist, pure as the driven snow as the old cliche goes. Or as the old Coke ad sang"It's The Real Thing".

Every year about this time my husband and I would set out, first just the two of us and then when the children started arriving into our lives we would all head out in search of perfection. We hardly ever found it. The years passed and the children grew up and moved on with their own lives and personal searches. Then we would, again, just the two of us set out on our search. . After awhile a grand child or two would accompany us on our yearly adventure but soon they too were tied into their own families' searching.

How to break the addiction? This search for perfection? If we dared to branch out would the world stop spinning on it's axis? What would the neighbors think? Then out of the blue I mentioned to my good friend ,Vi, what I was contemplating. And lo and behold she had already beat me to the punch. She had already branched out into virgin territory. Now you would have to know Vi to appreciate the wonder of her personal decision to make such a radical change at her age. She is an arbiter of taste. She has relatives in Charleston SC, the old genteel , society Charleston. She attended the St Cecilia Ball there. She is an artist with impeccable taste.

When I first learned of the change Vi had already made in her lifestyle I was anxious to follow suit. I admired her courage. She is my age and it takes guts to adopt a brand new lifestyle at our advanced age. She directed me to an out of the way warehouse in a somewhat seedy part of town. Normally only open to the "Trade" this spot is now open to the public because the business has been sold and they are liquidating.

Sam and I arrived and walked into the back of the warehouse. Eureka ! There it was. Our search was finally over. As we were looking and walking around it a cheerful grey haired gentleman walked up and told us he had a similar one and his family loved it. He showed us all the features and told how easy his life was now that he had taken the plunge.

He even said with a twinkle in his eye, " I tried to get you an additional discount since that one is the last and is a floor sample but Scrooge here said no deal"

It was already a bargain and so beautifully constructed, even though it was made in China. We brought it into our home and quick as a wink the project was complete.

After finishing we sat down with a nice cup of spice tea marveling at the beauty of this newcomer into our lives.

Our search was over.

We have finally found the Perfect Christmas Tree.

The only problem is this. The tree is guaranteed for 15 years and by then I will be 93.

I need to call a lawyer and change my will.

.

Movie night.

Last night I happened upon an excellent movie on Comcast On Demand. This one is NOT a light holiday film but you might want to consider watching it when you are in the mood for riviting dramatic escapism.

"Notes On A Scandal" is an engrossing story about the relationship between a spinster British school teacher and the new young art teacher. The action turns violent when the spinster, played by Judi Dench threatens to tell the authorities about the younger teacher, Cate Blanchett's torrid love affair with a 15 year old boy at the school.

I know this doesn't sound like the sort of movie one would seek out because of the story line but it is the edge of your seat suspense which hooks you like a book you cannot put down. In "Notes On A Scandal", portraying Barbara Hart, all Judi D. has to do is raise an eyebrow or breathe in silently to evoke an entire range of mostly macabre emotions. Judi Dench is outstanding in her portrayal of the love starved neurotic spinster. So different from Dench's demure portrayal of another unmarried older woman in "Ladies in Lavender."


"Notes on a Scandal" received several Oscar nomination and Judi Dench won the Oscar in "07 for best actress.

Cate Blanchett is also masterful in her role of Sheba, the new art teacher.

From IMDB:
"In her juiciest role since "Mrs Brown," Judi Dench brings an element of sympathy to Barbara, a closeted, self-loathing lesbian school teacher attracted to the new art teacher, Sheba, played by Cate Blanchett. Madly hoping to wrest the heterosexual Sheba from her husband and two children, one of whom has Down Syndrome, Barbara stumbles upon Sheba's sexual dalliance with a 15-year-old student. In a Machiavellian turn, Barbara hopes to manipulate Sheba by maintaining her secret . . . with strings attached. Need I add that all does not go well?"

Down Memory Lane In Slacks.

One of the many things I am thankful for is slacks for women. I live in pants and very seldom do I struggle into panty hose and a skirt. I have several nice skirts and I may perhaps wear them with tights this winter but my apparel of choice is a comfy pair of pants and a top and perhaps a cardigan or pull over sweater layered.

I remember when I got my first pair of blue jeans. I was 15 years old and my two girlfriends and I went downtown and shopped in the boys department for a pair of Levis. We felt slightly risque as we rolled the pants legs up to just below the knees and reveled in our new wardrobe. Those jeans lasted forever and ever. I wish I had saved them since a pair of Levis from 1944 would probably help finance our retirement. Collectors item.

I suppose the advent of pants for women harkens back to WW2 and the women who were called upon to work in defense plants. Prior to that only "daring, avant guard actresses like Katherine Hepburn wore slacks.

Just notice in old movies from the 40's and many times even the 50s women were dressed in skirts or dresses most of the time.

Many of you are not old enough to remember the times of which I write but you probably are also thankful for the freedom of slacks also.

I say Hip Hip Hooray for the comfort and freedom of slacks.

The times they sure are a' changing.

An Incredible journey.

Thinking back on the time when I was clueless about computers and the Internet and how I got started:

10 years ago my hubby and I got our first computer and we were both greenhorns. Our grown son set the contraction up for us and gave us rudimentary lessons about how to use it. In demonstrating the wonder of this (new to us) technology he typed into a search engine "lemon and sex" as an example of how much information was out there in cyber land.:)lol He got hundreds of web sites and I thought it was incredible. For instance here is one site that appeared.

"Lemon Cake
This is my lemon version of the famous Better Than Sex Cake. ... Cover cake with cool whip mixture and arrange 24 lemon "fruit slice" pieces on top.":)

I took to the computer like a duck to water and my first venture online was to a Chat Room. Humm I thought, I will never be able to chat with a hunt and peck typing system. So I forced my fingers and brain to remember my typing skills from 50 plus years ago and soon I was "chatting away" fluently without looking at the keyboard

I have tried many games like Hold 'em Poker on Yahoo and Scrabble and a form of Scrabble, "Bookworm. For awhile I was entertained with blackjack on Yahoo and also the Yahoo current events chat rooms. Other activities includeded "Groups" that I participated in later forming my own group.Also email, research, current events and political blogs and many other blogs. Finally about two years about I took the plunge and started this blog.

I now concentrate mainly on reading and commenting on the many "Elder Blogs" which I found links to on Ronni Bennett's excellent blog, Time Goes By"



I cannot imagine a time without the computer and the windows on the world this technology provides.The access to newspapers and even radio from all over the world, the instant news,and all the information at my fingertips is still a wonder to me.

How long have you been online and what started you on this incredible journey?

How did we survive?

READ TO THE BOTTOM FOR QUOTE OF THE MONTH BY JAY LENO. IF YOU DON'T READ
ANYTHING ELSE---VERY WELL STATED

"TO ALL THE KIDS WHO SURVIVED the 1930's, 40's, 50's, 60's and 70's!!"

"First, we survived being born to mothers who smoked and/or drank while
they were pregnant.

They took aspirin, ate blue cheese dressing, tuna from a can, and didn't
get tested for diabetes.

Then after that trauma, we were put to sleep on our tummies in baby
cribs covered with bright colored lead-based paints.

We had no childproof lids on medicine bottles, doors or cabinets and
when we rode our bikes, we had no helmets, not to mention, the risks we
took hitchhiking.

As infants & children, we would ride in cars with no car seats, booster
seats, seat belts or air bags.

Riding in the back of a pick up on a warm day was always a special
treat.

We drank water from the garden hose and NOT from a bottle.

We shared one soft drink with four friends, from one bottle and NOONE
actually died from this.

We ate cupcakes, white bread and real butter and drank Kool-aid made
with sugar, but we weren't overweight because,
WE WERE ALWAYS OUTSIDE PLAYING!

We would leave home in the morning and play all day, as long as we were
back when the streetlights came on.

No one was able to reach us all day. And we were O.K.

We would spend hours building our go-carts out of scraps and then ride
down the hill, only to find out we forgot the brakes. After running into
the bushes a few times, we learned to solve the problem.

We did not have Playstations, Nintendo's, X-boxes, no video games at
all, no 150 channels on cable, no video movies or DVD's, no
surround-sound or CD's, no cell phones, no personal computers, no
Internet or chat rooms.......
WE HAD FRIENDS and we went outside and found them!

We fell out of trees, got cut, broke bones and teeth and there were no
lawsuits from these accidents.

We ate worms and mud pies made from dirt, and the worms did not live in
us forever.

We were given BB guns for our 10th birthdays, made up games with sticks
and tennis balls and, although we were told it would happen, we did not
put out very many eyes.

We rode bikes or walked to a friend's house and knocked on the door or
rang the bell, or just walked in and talked to them !

Little League had tryouts and not everyone made the team. Those who
didn't had to learn to deal with disappointment. Imagine that!!

The idea of a parent bailing us out if we broke the law was unheard of.
They actually sided with the law!

These generations have produced some of the best risk-takers, problem
solvers and inventors ever!

The past 50 years have been an explosion of innovation and new ideas.
We had freedom, failure, success and responsibility, and we learned HOW
TO DEAL WITH IT ALL!

If YOU are one of them CONGRATULATIONS !

You might want to share this with others who have had the luck to grow
up as kids, before the lawyers and the government regulated so much of
our lives for our own good.
While you are at it, forward it to your kids so they will know how brave
(and lucky) their parents were.

Kind of makes you want to run through the house with scissors, doesn't
it?! "

The quote of the month is by Jay Leno:
"With hurricanes, tornados, fires out of control, mud slides, flooding,
severe thunderstorms tearing up the country from one end to another, and
with the threat of bird flu and terrorist attacks, are we sure this is a
good time to take God out of the Pledge of Allegiance ?"

I am slap dab out of ideas

For a post so I thought about this joke:




"An old country preacher had a teenage son, and it was getting time the boy
should give some thought to choosing a profession. Like many young men, the
boy didn't really know what he wanted to do, and he didn't seem too
concerned about it. One day, while the boy was away at school, his father
decided to try an experiment. He went into the boy's room and placed on his
study table four objects:
> - a Bible,
> - a silver dollar,
> - a bottle of whiskey and
> - a Playboy magazine

"I'll just hide behind the door," the old preacher said to himself, "when
he comes home from school this afternoon, I'll see which object he picks up.
If it's the Bible, he's going to be a preacher like me, and what a blessing
that would be! If he picks up the dollar, he's going to be a businessman,
and that would be okay, too. But if he picks up the bottle, he's going to
be a no-good drunkard, and, Lord, what a shame that would be. A nd worst of
all, if he picks up that magazine he's gonna be a skirt-chasin' bum."
The old man waited anxiously, and soon heard his son's footsteps as he
entered the house whistling and headed for his room. The boy tossed his
books on the bed, and as he turned to leave the room he spotted the objects
on the table. With curiosity in his eye, he walked over to inspect them.
Finally, he picked up the Bible and placed it under his arm. He picked up
the silver dollar and dropped it into his pocket. He uncorked the bottle
and took a big drink while he admired this month's Centerfold.
"Lord have mercy," the old preacher disgustedly whispered, "he's gonna run
for Congress!"

It tastes like chicken!

I know our ancestors here in the USA used to eat squirrel, especially when making dishes like Brunswick Stew but I personally can not stand the thought. I guess the most unusual dish I have ever eaten was a taste of Frog Leg, and it did taste like chicken.
Oh no! I take that back. When we were in Portugal some years back with another couple. we had a car and driver. Our driver wanted to treat us to an authentic Portugese dish so he stopped at a truck stop. He ordered stewed cowbelly and beans and insisted we all taste it. I was the only brave one and it was not half bad.

Tasted like chicken:)

What is the most unusual food you have ever tried?



From the Dailymail.co.uk
"I haven't tried grey squirrel but people I know who have say it tastes like chicken used to taste when it tasted like chicken."






Top Lakeland restaurant serves up Peking duck-style squirrel pancakes




Nuts: Grey Squirrel is served in canapes

A top restaurant is serving up free grey squirrel pancakes to hungry diners.

Peking duck-style squirrel wraps are being offered to diners at The Famous Wild Boar Hotel.

The restaurant at Crook, near Windermere, in Cumbria, is giving diners the chance to try the canapes free of charge.

The grey squirrels were caught in the hotel's 72-acre woodland grounds and have been prepared by head chef Marc Sanders.

Hotel general manager Andy Lemm said: "Although we do still have red squirrels, the greys are everywhere.

"Our diners seemed to enjoy the squirrel pancakes and I thought they tasted rather nice, a bit like rabbit."

Scroll down for more...


Nibble: Wild Boar Hotel head chef Marc Sanders with the Peking duck-style squirrel treats

Lord Redesdale's Red Squirrel Protection Partnership specialises in trapping and despatching greys to protect the reds.

The partnership has killed 4,521 greys since January, and Lord Redesdale said: "The problem is that when we catch and despatch greys, there is nothing we can do with them.

"We would like to be a supplier of grey squirrels. With an estimated five million greys in the country, there are enough of them to go round."

James Cookson runs the Flying Fox sales and marketing venture for food and rural businesses, based near Morpeth, Northumberland, which also features the Comfort at Meldon Park restaurant.

He said: "Grey squirrels can be eaten and there is no reason why they shouldn't be eaten.

"It makes sense if you are catching something to make use of it.

"We have some grey traps set at the moment and I would be willing to try it, without a doubt.

"If we could get enough greys and a suitable recipe then I can see no reason why it shouldn't be on the menu.

"Our reds are disappearing, and perhaps the more greys that are eaten, the better it is for the reds."

Scroll down for more...


Endangered: Red Squirrels are under threat because of a burgeoning population of greys

Carri Nicholson, manager of the Save Our Squirrels project based at Northumberland Wildlife Trust, said: "It is far more ecologically and environmentally sound to find a use for what is being trapped.

"A number of places in Northumberland are thinking of having grey squirrel on the menu.

"I haven't tried grey squirrel but people I know who have say it tastes like chicken used to taste when it tasted like chicken.

"The Americans have numerous recipes for grey squirrel, with the most popular being Brunswick Stew, which is casseroled squirrel."

Last year Lord Inglewood, who lives near Penrith in Cumbria, warned the red squirrel will soon become extinct if the non-native grey population is allowed to go on increasing.

He suggested then that one way of dealing with the problem would be to foster a market for grey squirrel meat.

He said: "What about celebrity chefs like Jamie Oliver promoting it for school dinners? I have never actually eaten a grey squirrel but I am prepared to give it a go."

(one of the comments about this article)
"Here in NY grey squirrel pancake is better known as roadkill."

(click on title of this post for link and for photos of the "cute squirrels")

Super Bug

Please click on the title of this post for a link to a very important Reader's Digest Article about the "Super Bug" that is becoming alarmingly frequent throughout the country. It is resistant to most known antibiotics and can strike anyone, but children and the elderly are especially vulnerable.

If you have grandchildren, even teen age ones, please send this link to their parents so they can be informed and know the symptoms. You can email the RD article from the RD site.

A good friend and classmate of my 11 year old grandson is extremely ill with this condition. He has been in the hospital for over 3 weeks and has just come off the heart lung bypass machine. He remains in a medically induced coma while they try to build up his strength and get his lungs operative again. They do not know how he contracted this. He did play football and he may have had an injury.

His parents took him to the emergency room three seperate times and the ER sent him home thinking it was the flu. He progressively got worse and as his condition deteriorated, they had to helicopter him to another hospital here in Atlanta that had the heart lung machine to keep him alive.

We are all praying for him and his family.
Poor little guy.

Read in the New York Tmes

Ronni Bennett,of "Time Goes By" has recently posted a blog about what we Elders give up as we age. I thought this was a good example:

From the New York Times:

"Youthanasia / (yooth en azhe) / n. / a neologism for the controversial practice of performing a battery of age-defying medical procedures to end lifeless skin and wrinkles; advocated by some as a last-resort measure to put the chronically youth-obsessed out of their misery: “My doctor was on the fence about youthanasia, but I whined so much that he finally agreed to perform my abdominoplasty, mammoplasty and rhytidectomy, all at once. Think of it as mercy lifting."

"A Thousand Splendid Suns"

"A Thousand Splendid Suns"
by Khaled Hosseini


I had not planned to read this book but there it was on the new books shelf at my
neighborhood public library and I said to myself, "Why not"

I hesitated because of the locale and what I had perceived as serious subject matter. Afghanistan. A saga with the Soviet invasion, civil war, the Taliban. To my surprise this book turned out to be the story of two women and their indomitable spirit in the face of unimaginable hardships and tragedy. I highly recommend this book You will not be able to put it down and you will not soon forget it.

From Amazon Reviews:

"A Thousand Splendid Suns is an absolutely wonderful story about the things that keep us going, even when our world falls apart"


"Splendid Suns follows the lives of two Afghani women, Mariam and Laila, as they move from children to adults. The book spans 30 years, beginning with the Soviet invasion and ending with the overthrow of the Taliban. A Thousand Suns is a moving story about the power of love, the bonds of friendship, the love of country, and the struggle to survive.


BIOGRAPHY OF THE AUTHOR

Khaled Hosseini was born in Kabul, Afghanistan, in 1965. His father was a diplomat with the Afghan Foreign Ministry and his mother taught Farsi and History at a large high school in Kabul. In 1976, the Afghan Foreign Ministry relocated the Hosseini family to Paris. They were ready to return to Kabul in 1980, but by then Afghanistan had already witnessed a bloody communist coup and the invasion of the Soviet army. The Hosseinis sought and were granted political asylum in the United States. In September of 1980, Hosseini's family moved to San Jose, California. Hosseini graduated from high school in 1984 and enrolled at Santa Clara University where he earned a bachelor's degree in Biology in 1988. The following year, he entered the University of California-San Diego's School of Medicine, where he earned a Medical Degree in 1993. He completed his residency at Cedars-Sinai Hospital in Los Angeles. Hosseini was a practicing internist between 1996 and 2004.

While in medical practice, Hosseini began writing his first novel, The Kite Runner, in March of 2001. In 2003, The Kite Runner, was published and has since become an international bestseller, published in 38 countries. In 2006 he was named a goodwill envoy to UNHCR, the United Nations Refugee Agency. His second novel, A Thousand Splendid Suns was published in May of 2007. He lives in northern California.

Glutton for Punishment

I guess it is that time of year since it seems I get all inspired to get all my ducks in a row and get everything checked in the fall. As you know I got my flu shot, blood checked and eyes checked last week.

Yesterday I saw the ear Doc for a clean out job and hearing test. I had a hearing test about 10 years ago with some hearing loss but in the last few years I seem to be turning the TV up louder, not hearing all of what is said. So it is now official. I am a "good candidate" for a hearing aid".

I can go back and see the audiologist at the Doc's office anytime and get fitted with one. Trouble is I have read enough to learn that hearing aids are very expensive and not easy to deal with.

Do any of you have any experience, either you or family member with hearing aids.

(I am almost persuaed to put it off until next year.)

PS: It is a lovely fall day and the temp will be in the 40's tonight so we have finally broken the back of the long hot summer. Now what we need is about 3 weeks of solid rain to ease the drought.

My Day

At almost 78, I have been ruminating about getting old and I am not sure I like it.I used to be the youngest. Youngest in my family. Youngest in my class with a December birthday. And I am always younger than my hubby Sam who was born in March. But dang it, suddenly I feel O-L-D.



On top of that, today was tiring. First I went to the doctor for a simple blood test for cholesterol and also got a flu shot.After the doctor, and since Target is nearby, I stopped in and picked up a few things. Since I had to fast for the blood test I bought a Snickers bar and ate it on the way back from Target.

I was home for about an hour and then I left for a routine appointment with my eye doctor for a six month check up. I never like to make two medical type appointments on the same day but this one was unavoidable since my eye doctor had to reschedule since he was leaving town,

My appointment was at 2:40 PM. I left my home at 2 PM for a 30 minute drive to the medical office. I had to sit and wait and wait and wait in the doctor's office as he was overbooked. I began to get woozy and I remembered I had not really eaten all day so I had to ask the nurse for juice or candy for a quick blood sugar fix. I am not diabetic. Just hypoglycemic.

Finally,after having my eyes dilated, examined, photographed, pressure measured and getting a report that all is well with my eyesight for the next 6 months I went out into the bright sunlight which blinded me for a time even with sunglasses. A pesky detour on my normal route home (new sewers construction) made the drive less than pleasant.

When I finally arrived back home after 3 grueling hours all total, I rushed in and had hubby fix me a quick PB&J sandwich and a glass of milk. After about 30 minutes I felt better.

I learned three lessons today

Always eat some protein
Do not make two doctors appointments on the same day

AND
Old age is not for sissies

A meme using my real first name "Janet"

I found this on another blog. Try it with your name.

"Go to Google, enter "[your name] needs" in quotes, and post the top ten results. I seem to recall doing this before, but the answers are different now, and funnier. My comments are in [brackets]."


Janet needs our help
she was bold enough to paint an entire wall a warm purple cover.
[UH OH..not a purple wall.]

Janet needs a maid.
[Well now wouldn't that be swell]

Janet needs one of those ankle bracelets that tell her that she’s yo-yo dieting
[Rushing out to Walmart to buy one]


Janet needs to review medicine procurement and the supply chain
[I think I will just stick with my friendly Publix pharmacist]

Janet needs a slap in the face
[Ouch]

Janet needs craft and motivational articles
[Artsy crafty aren't I]

Janet needs to take her car to the shop for an oil change.
[Oh bother]

Janet Needs Another Cat.
[I don't have the first cat]

Janet Needs To Re-Invent Herself,
[Ok. From now on I am "Chancy"]

Janet needs to stop dressing like she's still 20 years old
[I'll drink to that]

Janet needs to be removed today. We had enough of circus for one day
[And I thought you all liked me]



PS: (I had to ignore some of the "Janet needs" because many were in reference to Janet Jackson and her wardrobe malfunction....:))

When the going gets tough

I borrowed this from Roger @ his blog "There's Always Something"


When the Going Gets Tough...


"A parable is told of a farmer who owned an old mule. The mule fell into the farmer's well. The farmer heard the mule 'braying' or whatever mules do when they fall into wells. After carefully assessing the situation, the farmer sympathized with the mule, but decided that neither the mule nor the well was worth the trouble of saving. Instead, he called his neighbors together and told them what had happened, and enlisted them to help haul dirt to bury the old mule in the well and put him out of his misery. Initially, the old mule was hysterical! But as the farmer and his neighbors continued shoveling and the dirt hit his back, a thought struck the mule. It suddenly dawned on him that every time a shovel load of dirt landed on his back, he should shake it off and step up! This he did, blow after blow. "Shake it off and step up...shake it off and step up...shake it off and step up!" he repeated to encourage himself. No matter how painful the blows, or distressing the situation seemed, the old mule fought "panic" and just kept right on shaking off the dirt and stepping up. It wasn't long before the old mule, battered and exhausted, stepped triumphantly over the wall of that well. What seemed like it would bury him, actually blessed him, all because of the manner in which he handled his adversity.

That's life. If we face our problems and respond to them positively, and refuse to give in to panic, bitterness, or self-pity, the adversities that come along to bury us usually have within them the potential to benefit and bless us. Remember that forgiveness, faith, prayer, praise and hope are all excellent ways to "shake it off and step up" out of the wells in which we find ourselves."

-- Father Joe Sica


click on title of post to visit Roger's blog "There's Always Something

Autumn Nostalgia

Fall is in the air. Today is a beautiful sunny day. Slight breeze, mild temperature. Autumn always makes me nostalgic. I remember when my children were small and this was the time of year to buy new clothes and send them off to school again. And then the leaves would begin to turn lovely colors and before we knew it they covered the ground to be raked up or blown away.


Autumn Memories.

Remember the pure joy of a beautiful, sun kissed fall day when you raked the leaves
And your small children watched in delight as the pile of leaves grew to tower height .

They ran down the slope as fast as they could, squealing and jumping into the big leaf pile
Burrowing deep into the brown, red and golden days of autumn.



What are some of your favorite Autumn memories

Joke Time

A little levity is in order. Enjoy.

GOTTA LOVE THE DRUNK

A man and his wife are awakened at 3 o'clock in the morning by a loud
pounding on the door.
The man gets up and goes to the door where a drunken stranger, standing
in the pouring rain, is asking for a push.
'Not a chance,' says the husband. 'It is 3 o'clock in the morning'. He
slams the door and returns to bed.
'Who was that?' asked his wife. 'Just some drunk guy asking for a push!'
'Did you help him?' she asks.
'No. I did not. It is 3 o'clock in the morning and it is pouring rain
outside!'
His wife said, 'Can't you remember about three months ago when we broke
down and those two guys helped us? You should be ashamed of yourself!'
The man dutifully shamed, gets dressed and goes out into the pouring
rain.
He calls out into the dark, 'Hello. Are you still there?'
'Yes,' comes back the answer.
'You still need a push?' calls out the husband.
'Yes! Please!' comes the reply from the darkness.
'Where are you?' asks the husband.
'Over here on the swing!' replies the drunk.

In Concert

It was 1979, and I had never heard of Luciano Pavarotti when my classmate at Georgia State University, Julius, asked me if my husband liked music. I was trying to think of something special for my husband, Sam, for his 50th birthday. I casually mentioned the occasion to Julius, a delightful and. friendly fellow who was himself a vibrant 70 year old student auditing the Philosophy class under a program of free classes for those over 65 years of age. I was nearing 50 at the time myself and was delighted to find another wise head in the sea of 19 to 25 year olds which surrounded us.

I told Julius that my husband adored music, had an excellent tenor voice himself and sang in the church choir. Julius then suggested a fine idea for a birthday surprise.

"Luciano Pavarotti is in concert at the Fox Theater here in Atlanta on this coming Saturday night. Why don't you get tickets and take your husband to hear him. Pavarotti has one of the finest tenor voices of the century and is quite a showman."

I always enjoy any concert at the Fox Theater which was built in 1929 and is one of the last remaining "grand old theaters " remaining in the US. The acoustics there are the best anywhere providing near perfect sound for any musical concert.

I decided to take a chance on the suggestion Julius made and I ordered tickets to the Pavorotti concert.

Sam and I were overwhelmed and overjoyed to be in the audience at the Fox Theater that night.There is no way to adequately describe Pavarotti's voice and stage presence and pure joy of singing and sharing of his rare talent.

We were blessed.

We ran into Julius, my classmate, in the lobby of the Fox as we were leaving the concert. Julius took me my the arm and said.
"Don't leave yet!! Pavarotti always comes back on stage and sings many, many encores."

We rushed back to our seats and basked in the wonder of Pavarotti singing, among other numbers, " Ave Maria."

The memory of that night lingers on....We ARE blessed.

But now that magnificent voice is stilled and silent.

Goodnight Sweet Prince. Sing with the Angels.

CLICK ON TITLE OF THIS POST FOR LINK TO YOUTUBE AND PAVAROTTI SINGING.

Music, the common denominator

I got a kick out of this from today's New York Times "Metropolitian Diary". I think you might like it too.



September 3, 2007
Metropolitan Diary

DEAR DIARY:

"I had on my iPod when I entered Dan’s Key Food supermarket in Riverdale several weeks ago, bopping as I grabbed a food cart.

A woman who looked to be around 70 years old, also with an iPod, tapped my shoulder. Smiling at me, she asked: “What are you listening to? I see you bopping and it makes me want to bop too.”

I told her that I was listening to the Black Eyed Peas.

She said, “I love them.”

I asked her, “And you?”

“The Gipsy Kings.”

She took off an earpiece and passed it to me, and I took of one of my earpieces and passed it to her. Smiling with nods of approval, we then switched iPods and shopped together. When we got to the cash register, we returned our respective iPods. She told me that she had enjoyed my music, and I said that I had also enjoyed hers and would look to pick up a CD. She made a few suggestions.

I hope to be as spry as this woman when I am 70, as she gave “elderly” new meaning. Age is just a number."

Marie Torrisi

Old age is a gift

This was emailed to me recently and I agree:

"The other day a young person asked me how I felt about being old. I was taken aback, for I do not think of myself as old. Upon seeing my reaction, she was immediately embarrassed, but I explained that it was an interesting question, and I would ponder it, and let her know.


Old Age, I decided, is a gift.


I am now, probably for the first time in my life, the person I have always wanted to be. Oh, not my body! I sometime despair over my body, the wrinkles, the baggy eyes, and the sagging butt. And often I am taken aback by that old person that lives in my mirror (who looks like my mother!), but I don't agonize over those things for long.

I would never trade my amazing friends, my wonderful life, my loving family for less gray hair or a flatter belly. As I've aged, I've become more kind to myself, and less critical of myself. I've become my own friend.


I don't chide myself for eating that extra cookie, or for not making my bed, or for buying that silly cement gecko that I didn't need, but looks so avante garde on my patio. I am entitled to a treat, to be messy, to be extravagant.


I have seen too many dear friends leave this world too soon; before they understood the great freedom that comes with aging.


Whose business is it if I choose to read or play on the computer until 4 AM and sleep until noon?


I will dance with myself to those wonderful tunes of the 60&70's, and if I, at the same time, wish to weep over a lost love ... I will.


I will walk the beach in a swim suit that is stretched over a bulging body, and will dive into the waves with abandon if I choose to, despite the pitying glances from the jet set.


They, too, will get old.

I know I am sometimes forgetful. But there again, some of life is just as well forgotten. And I eventually remember the important things.


Sure, over the years my heart has been broken. How can your heart not break when you lose a loved one, or when a child suffers, or even when somebody's beloved pet gets hit by a car? But broken hearts are what give us strength and understanding and compassion. A heart never broken is pristine and sterile and will never know the joy of being imperfect.


I am so blessed to have lived long enough to have my hair turning gray, and to have my youthful laughs be forever etched into deep grooves on my face. So many have never laughed, and so many have died before their hair could turn silver.


As you get older, it is easier to be positive. You care less about what other people think. I don't question myself anymore. I've even earned the right to be wrong.


So, to answer your question, I like being old. It has set me free. I like the person I have become. I am not going to live forever, but while I am still here, I will not waste time lamenting what could have been, or worrying about what will be. And I shall eat dessert every single day. (If I feel like it)"

Author Unknown

Another Time, another place.

The Front Porch

The house was built about 1919, a classic, small, one story Victorian with a half wrap around porch. The balusters and railings were painted a light grey and the porch floor was a darker shade of grey.


Steep concrete steps rose up the front yard bank then wooden steps led onto the porch itself which provided a birds eye view of the street and the houses across the way.

A porch swing suspended by chains from the ceiling seated two and squeaked gently as it swung back and forth. There were two wooden rocking chairs on the porch but the swing was the favorite spot for daydreaming

The air was fresh and warm, sweet smelling, clear of toxins and gas fumes. Not many people owned cars. No jets flew over . Many peaceful hours could be spent sitting on the porch steps or on the concrete steps where the walkway ended at the street. There was no air conditioning back then so the porch breezes were a welcome respite from the summer heat.

You could sit on the steps at night with your brown and white beagle mix dog and count the stars and see the big dipper and the milky way. In the summer night time you could catch lightening bugs and put them in a glass jar. Or you could simply get up and you and your dog could walk up the sidewalk and enjoy the evening. No crime to worry about. No one locked their doors. No one used a key to the house. Did a key even exist ?

Your childhood friend might come sit with you on the porch steps, then the two of you, barefoot and skipping over the hot sidewalk pavement, would run down the street to her house and play Monopoly. Later she would show you the souvenirs her parents had brought back from the 1939 World’s Fair.

Neighbors would look up and call to you on the porch as they walked by headed for the market or up the street to a friend’s house or to the Baptist Church about a half mile up on the nearby main street, or perhaps they were walking to the down town picture show.


You might sit in the swing with your white haired grand daddy who talked with you as he whittled a stick into a whistle.

Years earlier grand daddy had sat in the swing with his hand resting on his chin watching silently as you had your 4 month old baby picture made. In the photo your older brother was in the yard below the porch holding you gingerly and looking down at you. You had a fat faced look of contentment as you gazed directly at the old box camera. Your chubby little cheeks and your dark fuzz of hair showed up really well in the photograph which would gradually fade with time but would remain viewable..

You were born in the bedroom to the left of the front porch. Babies were born at home in those days and not in the hospital. You were the last of 10 children but all but 3 had grown up and left home before your birth. You were the caboose.


Sitting on the porch was the perfect place to listen out for the bell of the ice cream truck as it made its’ way slowly down the street. When it got nearer you could run down the porch steps and stand on the side walk and gaze longingly down the street as you decided how you would spend the Buffalo nickel you mother had given you.


The handsome dark haired postman who sang bass in the church choir walked up the porch steps with his extra large well worn brown leather mail satchel to place letters in the small metal mailbox attached to the porch wall at the front door



You walked down the front porch steps and walked to school when you began kindergarten. And up again when the school day was over with much to tell mother about your school day.


You drank lemonade and ate cookies while sitting in the porch swing. Your brother taught you songs like “My Darling Clementine” there. This was before he went off to the US Navy after the beginning of World War 2. He came home safely, thank God so no bad news telegram was delivered to the front door.


After your dog followed you to town and got run over, the lady who hit him drove you home with your dying dog in the back seat and gently placed his lifeless body on the front porch by the door. You cried when the truck came to carry his sweet body away.

To get away from the sadness of the afternoon you and your mother walked down the porch steps to the end of the street.The two of you stepped onto the city bus and rode and rode and talked about your dog and how sad you were. You reminded her the dog first belonged to your brother before he went off to war and you were sad you did not take good care and let him get run over. Mother said it was not your fault. Your brother would understand. She said there will be other dogs but this one was special.


You grew up, finished high school and moved away. Saying good bye to the porch and swing, you tucked your treasured memories away and walked down the front porch steps for the last time, glancing back with longing and regret that the tender simple pleasures of porch days were over.

Hot as Hell

I am not kidding. It is hot here. Temps have been hovering around 100 degrees for about a week now with the heat index at around 106 some days.

And guess what? Guess what our UPSTAIRS air conditioner decided to do last Saturday in 100 degree heat. Well it froze up and died. The AC's passing was not entirely unexpected as it was original equipment and our town house which we bought 4 years ago is about 20 years old.We replaced one AC at that time and crossed our fingers on the other.

So the service guy from the AC company came out on Saturday afternoon, (bless his little pea picking heart). He worked and worked trying to correct the problem but to no avail. It was terminal and he had to pull the plug.

Our bedrooms are upstairs so of course hubby and I had to make other plans for sleeping. The temp upstairs was reading out 93 and up and we did not relish being fried in our sleep. I chose the den sofa and Sam chose the sofa bed in the downstairs playroom.We managed remarkably well and even felt like real troopers. Almost like camping out. At least we were cool.

So then,today, the AC company came to install the new equipment. They worked and worked and demolished the old furnace in the upstairs attic and carted off the old outside unit and installed the new stuff.

But UH OH. The new outside Carrier AC had a "defective coil: The servicemen went to pick up a replacement coil to reinstall on the brand new unit. While they were gone Sam and I confered and decided we do NOT want an expensive air conditioner right out of the box with a defective part. After some tough talk with the salesman who sold us the equipment we got the promise of a brand new unit ASAP.

In the meanwhile, the serviceman comes back with the new replacement coil (made in Mexico), installs it and then discovers it was not the coil after all but somehow the compressor had overheated and shut off. He fixed the problem and now it is getting cooler upstairs where I am now sitting at my computer venting.

Why oh why does nothing work right the first time anymore?



Don't get me wrong,I am extremely thankful for the cool air that is wafting down from the overhead register but I just wonder whatever happened to good old Yankee know how and ingenuity.

I read this when I googled AC in the South and I agree 100%

"I am not the least bit sentimental about my un-air-conditioned Georgia childhood, especially my nocturnal summertime tossing and turning at the foot of the bed, praying to catch a breeze through the nearby window before the rooster started sounding off. Suffice it to say, if cranking up the A/C constitutes an unnatural act, put me down as a habitual and unrepentant offender."

and this

As air-conditioning was reshaping the way we lived, it was also helping to change the way we made our living. Without it, most of our bigger, heavier, and more complex industries would surely have never headed South after World War II, nor would many of the people who worked in and managed them, or the retirees who jumped at the chance to luxuriate in air-conditioned comfort while telling us how they used to do it in Ohio. Overall, the air-conditioner was crucial to reversing the South's historic pattern of out-migration and to the explosive growth of the "Sunbelt" in the 1970s."

http://www.uga.edu/gm/902/FeatBack.html


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I want to be six again

I thought that now in the miserable dog days of summer we might want to consider this:


To Whom it May Concern

"I am hereby officially tendering my resignation as an adult, in order to accept the responsibilities of a 6 year old. The tax base is lower. I want to be six again.

I want to go to McDonald’s and think it’s the best place in the world to eat.

I want to sail sticks across a fresh mud puddle and make waves with rocks.

I want to think M&Ms are better than money, because you can eat them.

I want to play kickball during recess and stay up on Christmas Eve waiting to hear Santa and Rudolph on the roof.

I long for the days when life was simple. When all you knew were your colors, the addition tables and simple nursery rhymes, but it didn’t bother you, because you didn’t know what you didn’t know and you didn’t care.

I want to go to school and have snack time, recess, gym and field trips.

I want to be happy, because I don’t know what should make me upset.

I want to think the world is fair and everyone in it is honest and good. I want to believe that anything is possible.

Sometime, while I was maturing, I learned too much. I learned of nuclear weapons, prejudice, starving and abused kids, lies, unhappy marriages, illness, pain and mortality.

I want to be six again.

I want to think that everyone, including myself, will live forever, because I don’t know the concept of death.

I want to be oblivious to the complexity of life and be overly excited by the little things again.

I want television to be something I watch for fun, not something used for escape from the things I should be doing.

I want to live knowing the little things that I find exciting will always make me as happy as when I first learned them.

I want to be six again.

I remember not seeing the world as a whole, but rather being aware of only the things that directly concerned me.

I want to be naive enough to think that if I’m happy, so is everyone else.

I want to walk down the beach and think only of the sand beneath my feet and the possibility of finding that blue piece of sea glass I’m looking for.

I want to spend my afternoons climbing trees and riding my bike, letting the grownups worry about time, the dentist and how to find the money to fix the old car.

I want to wonder what I’ll do when I grow up and what I’ll be, who I’ll be and not worry about what I’ll do if this doesn’t work out.

I want that time back.

I want to use it now as an escape, so that when my computer crashes, or I have a mountain of paperwork, or two depressed friends, or a fight with my spouse, or bittersweet memories of times gone by, or second thoughts about so many things, I can travel back and build a snowman, without thinking about anything except whether the snow sticks together and what I can possibly use for the snowman’s mouth.

I want to be six again."
Author Unknown

Millie on ABC

Hooray for our Millie Garfield. She and her blog were just on ABC evening news segment about elder bloggers. Run on over to Millie's blog and congratulate her.

Click on title of this post to be linked to

http://mymomsblog.blogspot.com/

My desk

The black and white framed photograph sits on my desk and leans against the green wall beside my computer.

The background of the photograph is stark black. A marbled, swirling image of planet earth as seen from deep space centers the image.

I had clipped this picture from The National Geographic in the 1960s after the first moon landing.

The poem that accompnies the photograph calls out to a troubled world.

"To see the earth as it truly is, small and blue in that eternal silence where it floats, is to see riders on the earth together, brothers on that bright loveliness in the eternal cold - brothers who know now they are truly brothers." -

Archibald MacLeish

Telemarketers

The phone rings and I answer it noticing that there is no number in the caller ID window area. Just "Out of area."

A recording begins. It claims to offer me 6 % interest on "all my credit card accounts" If I am interested in this offer press 9, and I will be directed to a LIVE representative. If I want to be permanently deleted from the calling list, Press 8. Of course I press 8 (do they think I just fell off the turnip truck?) When I press 8 I hear a buzz and the prerecorded voice says. "Sorry, That is NOT a valid entry"

This same call keeps on and on as weeks pass and I get tired of going to answer the phone, or ignore it when I see the incomplete caller ID. I have no way to report the calling number as it is not listed on caller ID. I get more irritated and decide one day after another month of at least biweekly calls from these nit wits that I WILL go ahead and press 9 and get to speak to a "live representative and try to get their phone number.

I press 9..."Hello" she says. "this is Michelle. Are you calling about getting 6 % interest on your credit cards?"
I tell her NO. but you MUST take me off your calling list.

Wham! She hangs up.

I keep getting the calls at least twice a week. I finally decide that I will speak to a "live representative again" I press 9

"Hello, This is Fran, are you calling about getting 6% interest on your credit cards.

Yes I am, How does this work? Do I give you my credit card numbers?

"Oh no,not at all. You simply give us the numbers of at least one Visa and one Master card."

Well, I say, it will take me awhile to locate my credit cards. Give me YOUR number and I will call YOU back.

WHAM..Fran hangs up.

The calls continue. One day I decide I will try a new approach. I press 9 and get a live rep.

"Hello, this is Debra. Are you calling about 6 % interest on your credit cards?"

Well, yes I am but also I am just SOOO lonely with no body around here to talk to and I just wondered if you would talk to me awhile?
( I use my best creaky and confused voice imitation)

"Well sure I will," Debra replies"

I say, thank you so very very much . You just don't know how lonely it can get living alone with just my 12 year old cat, Maybelle, to talk to all day.

Debra says "I bet that is lonely"

That's the god's truth, I say. And especially since I am down with my back after having my gall bladder out. The doctor said it was big as a melon. I been having some stomach upset and having to take too much Maalox for the pain and all the burping.

Debra said "Well I hope you get better soon"

Well bless your heart Debra. You are such a nice girl. But I have to tell you this Debra.,I am talking to you when I should not and I don't know what to do. what do you think I should do? . (My voice quivers)

Debra says" I don't know"

Well you see honey, I just haven't been right ever since Frank Junior run off with the Coke cans, newspapers and string I had been saving up for about 6 years. That boy has a mean streak he got from his Daddy.

"Oh," says Debra.

I just have to fess up and tell you, Debra, that I told you a little white lie because I just wanted somebody to talk to and all. You see I don't have any credit cards anymore and....



WHAM!!!!! Debra hangs up on me?

I wonder what I said?


(they don't call; they don't write anymore)

Summer memories.

The summer is slowly slipping away and I find myself remembering childhood summers of long, long ago.

What a treat it was to shuck my shoes and go barefoot all summer, mindless of the heat from the sidewalks and the rough stones and briars from the nearby empty lots and fields.

Going barefoot translated into FREEDOM for me and I loved every minute of it.

I do not understand how my feet could have survived the heat and the many cuts and bruises that occured as I ran and played and climbed the chinaberry tree in the front yard and the peach tree in the back yard, skipped down the hot sidewalks to my friends house, made mud pies and toad frog houses in her sandbox,then later walked a few blocks to the small store that sold penny candy.

With no such thing as air conditioning, the summer heat of Georgia was not as oppressive then as it seems now.

Back then I was young.

Now I am old and too tender to go barefoot in the summer.

Everyday memories are the best and most precious of childhood.

(What are some of your everyday memories of childhood?)

Laughing Baby

This video has been on YouTube for awhile but it is so sweet and funny it is worth a second look.

Click on the title of this post for link

ENJOY

More rules for writng real good

The rest of Graham Hicks

SUMMER SCHOOL DAY 2

More rules for writing real good.

1. Resist Unnecessary Capitalization.

2. Avoid mispellings.

3. One-word sentences? Never.

4. Never, ever use repetitive redundancies.

5. Who needs rhetorical questions?

6. And don't start sentences with conjunctions.

7. If I've told you once, I've told you a thousand times, exaggeration is a billion times worse than understatement.

8. Never use a big word when you can utilize a diminutive word.

9. Profanity sucks.

10. Last but not least, even if you have to bend over backward, avoid cliches like the plague.

"Rules for Writng Good"

I ran across these valuable rules that should be helpful to all of us as we compose our blogs.
They are from a newspaper column by Graham Hicks of the Edmonton Sun.


GRAHAM HICKS

SUMMER SCHOOL

"Rules for writing good.

1. A writer should avoid sexist pronouns in his writing.

2. Never use no double negatives.

3. Don't use commas, that aren't necessary.

4. "Don't overuse 'quotation marks.' "

5. Parenthetical remarks (however relevant) are (if the truth be told) superfluous.

6. Contractions won't, don't, and can't help your writing voice.

7. Don't forget to use end punctuation

8. Its important to use apostrophe's in the right places.

9. Don't abbrev.

10. Don't overuse exclamation marks!!! "

The "Bee's Knees"

I was just reading Tracy's blog "Traces of Me" and she wrote about all her research in preparation for her upcoming knee surgery. I sent her well wishes and said I hoped her new knees turned out to be "the Bee's Knees". Then I thought, "What in the world does that phrase Bee's Knees mean and how did the phrase come about?'

So of course I Googled it and

VOILA !!!




"A bee's "corbiculae", or pollen-baskets, are located on its
tibiae (midsegments of its legs). The phrase "the bee's knees",
meaning "the height of excellence", became popular in the U.S. in
the 1920s, along with "the cat's whiskers" (possibly from the use
of these in radio crystal sets), "the cat's pajamas" (pyjamas were
still new enough to be daring), and similar phrases which made less
sense and didn't endure: "the eel's ankle", "the elephant's
instep", "the snake's hip". Stories in circulation about the
phrase's origin include: "b's and e's", short for "be-alls and
end-alls"; and a corruption of "business".

Another Test

If this posts then I guess it is finally working. I had to delete something on the post template (removed it altogether) whatever that means) I was afraid I would delete my entire blog but evidently so far so good but my fingers are still crossed.
Blogger support is no good at all. But. Hey, it's free.:(

Cheers
Chancy

None

Hi All

I am just testing to see if Blogger will let me post.

I have been having problems with it.

Have a Happy tuesday if this works.

Cya

Chancy

Test

Test

From a wise friend

I asked my wise friend " "Why can't the news take the time to educate
us on the great issues of the day?"

He answered:

"I had always believed the purpose of news programming was to shed
light on an issue rather than heat. But in looking at the 24-hour
news channels, there is precious little news to cover for the simple
reason that the newsmakers actually spend time sleeping or doing
other things. And these news channels have lots of air time to
fill. So you do your basic story and then fill the rest of the time
with "talking heads" and "experts" to analize what you have just seen.

The other fly in the ointment is that the news organizations are now
owned by big corporations who expect the news divisions to be
profitable. Profitability is translated into ratings which
translates into advertising dollars--you do the math. This is a far
cry from the days when the networks were owned by the likes of Bill
Paley (CBS), Gen. David Sarnoff (NBC) and Leonard Goldensen (ABC)
where the news divisions were considered "loss leaders" to be picked
up by the networks entertainment divisions. I believe it was during
this era that the great television documentaries were produced and
the birth of the newsmagazine format like 60 MINUTES took place.

Sad to say those days are gone. Television takes advantage of the
fact that we don't read as much as we used to as a nation. We have
become a visually-oriented society. If it can't translate into
pictures, it isn't news.


To answer your question: "Why can't the news take the time to educate
us on the great issues of the day?
Because it isn't profitable to do
so. Where "success" is determined by ratings and profitability,
issues like health care or the new overtime rules are not ratings
grabbers compared to the Scott Petersons and Michael Jacksons and now
Kobe Bryants.

As for me, I find myself paying more attention to public television
and public radio. I am finding out that when I want to be informed,
I stay away from commercial media and tune into public radio and
television. FRONTLINE is one of the great documentaries on PBS and
Bill Moyer's NOW is highly informative."






















>

Faux Pas

Faux Pas
( or how I learned first hand the meaning of the term)

My husband, Sam, was on the board of directors of his company, a major accounting firm, and he made many overseas trips and I frequently accompanied him. Our first trip to Paris was a delight. Remembering all the movies I had seen which featured Paris locales, I felt like Gigi as we stood on the observation deck of the Eiffel Tower and gazed out over the city. We walked along the Seine and stepped into the grandeur of Notre Dame Cathedral. We visited the Louvre and marveled at the Mona Lisa. We strolled down the Avenue des Champs Ellesse to the Arch d'Triumphe. We dined at La Tour d'Argent. The dining room features an excellent view of the river Seine at night.. We toured Versailles

Neither of us knew a word of French but we got along just fine but before we returned on another trip to France I determined to learn at least a smattering of the language. I started attending classes at the local Alliance Française ,an international French language school, which has a branch in Atlanta.

We watched videos of Pierre and Mirerre, a French couple, and their adventures.Then we repeated the dialogue and acted out the scenes in French. Madame Saporta allowed only French spoken in the classroom so we quickly learned to converse a little.

Having no grasp of the grammatical aspect of the language, I decided to sign on for another class at Georgia State University in addition to the French 101. Since I would be driving to the downtown campus anyway, I decided to take another class while I was there. I chose Political Science the second semester as it dovetailed time wise with the French course.

The first day in the Poly Sci course I realized I had made a mistake in choosing this class.. It was in a large classroom of the amphitheater type. I prefer smaller classes.The professor was boring and bossy. Immediately she stated that all students in the class would have to divide up into groups of 6 or 8 and study and research together on their own time. Baloney, I said to myself. I am way past the age of these students and besides, I am just here to fill in a block of time, although I do have an interest in political science. Long story short I immediately dropped the course and simply stuck with the French.

The next week, back at Alliance Francaise, Madame Saporta was registering our small class for the current session. I was standing at Madame Saporta's desk while another student, Albert Andrews, waited to sign up for the class. Making small talk I told them about my experience in the Poly Sci class and how I had not liked the BORING professor and had dropped the course.

Albert Andrews, a grey haired man of about 50 listened intently. Then he asked what was the Poly Sci professor's name.

I said her name was ---- Professor Joyce Morris, Why do you ask?

He said "That is my wife. She retained her maiden name".

Drop through the floor time on my part. But we all just had a good laugh and went on into class to converse in rudimentary French.













Main Entry: FAUX PAS
Pronunciation: 'fO-"pä, fO-'
Function: noun
Inflected Form(s): plural faux pas /-"pä(z), -'pä(z)/
Etymology: French, literally, false step
: BLUNDER; especially : a social blunder

"Enemy women"

I have written before about the great book sale that takes place at my neighborhood library each month. It is staffed by volunteers and the books are NOT library rejects but donations from people in the area. Many times I run across best sellers or books by a favorite author or just a book I have never heard of before which looks promising.

I enjoy the book sale. I have always loved browsing in the library, but the book sale is even better. The proceeds go to our neighborhood library and they are used to buy books or equipment. And also, when I have finished reading one of my sale books I simply return it to be resold.

On a recent Saturday afternoon, the last day of the book sale, they featured an "all the books you can stuff in a plastic grocery bag for $5.00" sale. I already had about 6 hardback books in my plastic bag but I had room for one more and I spied a book, "Enemy Women," that peaked my interest mainly because it had a sticker that said "Read This" by "Good Morning America" So I said to myself,what the heck, I might like it, and in the bulging plastic bag it went.

I put off starting "Enemy Women" for some time but then one day with nothing else interesting to read that struck my fancy, I picked it up and started to read.

I could not put it down. One of the best books I have ever read.I finished it in about 2 days and one night I read until 2AM.


If you like historical novels that focus on the ordinary people in epic struggles, try "Enemy Women"

What have you read recently that you would recommend?




This review from "AMAZON.COM

"Enemy Women, the outstanding first novel by poet Paulette Jiles, leads us into new terrain, both geographic and historical, in the war between the states. Set in the Missouri Ozarks during the Civil War, Jiles's story focuses on the trying times of 18-year-old heroine Adair Colley. When a group of renegade Union militiamen attacks the Colley home, stealing family possessions, burning everything down, and taking away her father--an apolitical judge--Adair gathers the remnants of her clothes and mounts a rescue effort. Unfortunately, she is falsely accused of being a Confederate spy, a charge that lands her in a squalid women's prison run by a decent commandant embarrassed by his post. After he helps her escape, the two agree to seek out one another after the war; their separate, harrowing journeys and the evolution of each character throughout make for breathtaking action and powerful writing. Each chapter of Enemy Women begins with excerpts from historical testimony about this terrible period in the Civil War, when marauding soldiers pillaged and murdered whole families and communities at will. These documents add depth and resonance to Jiles's remarkable narrative."

And this from another reviewer on Amazon

"With researcher's eye Ms. Jiles has illuminated a little known aspect of Civil War history, the incarceration of women. Her prose is artful, describing a new leaf as "already as large as a squirrel's ear, " or a man with "a pair of jaws like church pews." Painful in its authenticity, poetically rendered, Enemy Women is a book that will not be forgotten"

Nice Thoughts

I don't remember where I read these but they are "keepers"


"Living on Earth is expensive, but it does include a free trip around
the sun.

Birthdays are good for you: the more you have the longer you live.

How long a minute is depends on what side of the bathroom door
you're on.

I have noticed that the people who are late are often so much
jollier than the people who have to wait for them.

If ignorance is bliss, why aren't more people happy?

Most of us go to our grave with our music still inside of us.

If Wal-Mart is lowering prices every day, how come nothing in the
store is free yet?

You may be only one person in the world, but you may also be the
world to one person.

Some mistakes are too much fun to only make once.

Don't cry because its over; smile because it happened.

We could learn a lot from crayons: some are sharp, some are pretty,
some are dull, some have weird names, and all are different
colors ... but they all have to learn to live in the same box.

Everything should be made as simple as possible, but no simpler.

A truly happy person is one who can enjoy the scenery on a detour.

Happiness comes through doors you didn't even know you left open"

Remembering

On our second date, we went to Jennings Rose Room, a night club, dance hall and Sam talked me into trying a “Singapore Sling. When we returned to my apartment I felt the effects of the “Singapore Sling” when I sat down and totally missed the kitchen chair. I was so embarrassed but Sam said “Oh don’t worry. We will tell our “grandchildren about it”. I said, “YOU will tell YOUR grandchildren about it.”
Meaning, I am not signing on for a lifetime with YOU BUDDY. We just met.


However, as it turned out we were married on November 22, 1951, Thanksgiving Day. We had met on September 13, 1951. How’s that for a whirlwind romance?

I knew right away that Sam was the one for me and he says he knew immediately also.

We wanted a church wedding, but small and simple since neither of us nor our parents had any money for a big wedding. I started planning, asking around at work, and making phone calls and secured the small chapel at Glenn Memorial Methodist Church on the campus of Emory University. A friend at work told me about the chapel and said that it was a fine place for a small wedding. We were entranced by the beauty of the little chapel.


“The Little Chapel was designed by Philip Trammel Schutze and modeled after London's St. Stephen Walbrook Church, one of Sir Christopher Wren's masterpieces.
The Little Chapel is almost a replica in miniature of the English prototype, combining within the narrow limits of its rectangular walls the central dome and the traditional English church plan with nave, side aisles, chancel, and, in effect, crossing transepts. Most exciting of all is the dome, with its finely molded plaster ornamentation and the eight arches that rise from the architrave to support it. The contrast between the white walls and ceilings and the oak woodwork is intensified in the white and black squares of the tessellated floor. The beautifully carved woodwork at the front and back is in the Grinling Gibbons manner. It was executed by H.J. Millard, who learned his skill in his native England. His joyful offering of festooned fruit, flowers, and vegetables includes pinecones, peaches, dogwood, camellias, and magnolias, all borrowed from the Georgia landscape.”



I wore a pale blue lace dress, ballerina length, and a small hat of blue with a half veil. I wore elbow length navy blue gloves and navy shoes. I carried a small white Bible with a white orchid on top. My mother had given me this Bible the preceding Easter. of 1951. Sam wore a double breasted navy blue suit. My one attendant was a friend, Peggy G, and Sam’s best man was Bill M, a good friend and co worker. Bill remains a friend to this day , 56 years later. My brother Tommy gave me away and his minister, Reverend Alvin Barker married us. My mother was dressed in a grey blue dress with a pill box hat and white gloves. She looked lovely and was so proud and happy

We only had a few days off from work so we stayed in town and went to the Atlanta Biltmore Hotel for our short honeymoon. We have some lovely black and white professional photos of our wedding. We both look so young and happy. Who knew we would still be happy and content with each other and the life and family we had made 56 years later.

We are blessed.















Link

Rain, Rain, Rain

Blessed Rain
Singing in the Rain
A Rainy Night in Georgia

And all of the above.
Yesterday and the day before we had several nice rains. Some thunder too. Not enough to end the awful drought we have had here in Georgia but any amount is welcome after long weeks of total dryness.

The weather man is even promining more rain in the next several days.

Thanks be to God!












Link

Crafty Cats

Frank Paynter posted an interesting lost cat story on Ronni Bennett's "THE ELDER STORY TELLING PLACE". It reminded me of this long ago happening.



Many years ago, when my husband and I bought our first, small house, we had a large lot with deep,Georgia, pine woods behind it.

Our tom cat, named "Tom" was a few years old back then and we let him out to have free reign of the woods while we were away at work.

When we returned in the late afternoon, early evening, it did no good to simply call "Here kitty kitty'. "Here Tom. Come"

Since we had no children back then we had spoiled our jet black tom cat by, (you won't believe this) thawing frozen fish and feeding it to him.

If it was not completely thawed we would cut the pieces with a sharp knife on a wooden cutting board. This made a high pitched screeching sound. Scrape, scrape the sound reverberated through the back yard as we stood on the patio and called.

Alerted by the delicious sound, like a bat out of hell,Tom appeared from the woods, jumped the fence and followed us inside for his "fish supper"

Many times afterwards we "called" Tom by simply scraping the empty wooden cutting board.

Dirty trick, I suppose, but it worked

5 minutes of rain today

and one clap of thunder. Then later in the day, another 5 minutes of rain. But hey, at least it is a start and the birdies got a good bath..

Maybe tomorrow we will be blessed with 15 minutes of rain.

STILL no rain

Can you believe it. Not a drop of rain has fallen around here since I do not remember when. We are in the city of Atlanta and the watering restrictions are fierce, but luckily we have a tiny yard with our townhouse. I do have impatiens and mondo and liriope that I must give a drink now and again.

We can only water one day on the weekend and that is from 12 midnight to 10 AM on Saturday. I have fudged a little since I do not get up early and I don't want to break my neck turning on the hose in the dark.

Oh Well... as they say.."it wasn't raining when Noah built the Ark"
You gotta have hope.

Update on the smoke-and planning a rain dance soon.

Our air conditioning was off from Monday night to Wednesday afternoon late (the compressor died) so I spent a lot of time outside on the porch and also had the doors open. I didn't think about the effects of the smoke inhalation but I should have since I have some asthmatic tendencies and besides, I am no spring chicken. So as of yesterday I am staying inside as much as possible. I am fighting hoarseness, sinus and the whole nine yards. BUMMER!!

Amazing isn't it? Here I am over 200 miles away from the wildfires and feeling the effects of the smoke.

From today's weather update:


"...SMOKE FROM THE SOUTHEAST GEORGIA WILDFIRES CONTINUES TO SPREAD
ACROSS PORTIONS OF NORTH AND CENTRAL GEORGIA...

WINDS ALOFT HAVE ALLOWED SMOKE FROM THE SOUTHEAST GEORGIA
WILDFIRES TO SPREAD INTO PORTIONS OF NORTH AND CENTRAL GEORGIA
THIS MORNING. VISIBILITIES WILL REDUCE FROM 1 TO 3 MILES AT TIMES
IN THE SMOKE. AS THE SUN RISES THROUGH THE DAY AND WARMS THE
GROUND...EASTERLY WINDS WILL INCREASE AND ALLOW THE SMOKE TO
DISSIPATE SLIGHTLY. HOWEVER...AREAS TO THE NORTH AND WEST OF A
LINE FROM PINEVIEW...TO MACON...TO WASHINGTON CAN EXPECT TO SEE
SMOKE ON AND OFF THROUGH THE DAY.

PEOPLE WITH RESPIRATORY PROBLEMS...AS WELL AS THE ELDERLY AND VERY
YOUNG SHOULD REMAIN INDOORS"

Click on this POST TITLE TO VIEW AN EXAMPLE OF A RAIN DANCE I WOULD
TRY IF I WERE MORE TALENTED AND AGILE.

Where there's smoke

You have probably read about or seen news reports about the horrific forest fires that have been burning in south Georgia and that have moved into northern Florida.

I had not realized the intensity of the fires and how far north the smoke could travel until yesterday, when in the early morning hours the smoke on the horizon near our home looked like dense, grey fog. The smell was awful. My eyes burned. And Atlanta is about 200 miles from the forest fires that have been raging in south Georgia for over two months.

All of Georgia is suffering from a terrible drought.

"MACON, GA (May 23, 2007) - The Georgia Forestry Commission is asking for every Georgian’s help in preventing wildfire this Memorial Day weekend. With a serious drought underway and record-breaking fires in south Georgia still burning, the risk of wildfire demands strict vigilance with all ignitable materials.

“I can’t ever remember a time when so much of Georgia was at class 5 fire danger,” said Alan Dozier, Chief of Forest Protection with the Georgia Forestry Commission (GFC). Class 5 is the highest level of measurable fire risk on GFC fire danger scales. “Our resources are stretched to the maximum with the south Georgia fires, so outbreaks anywhere else will present a real challenge. We need Georgians to pitch in and help prevent wildfires.”

As families begin spending more time outdoors this holiday weekend, fire risks can increase. Dozier advised extreme caution when enjoying campfires and cookouts. Fireworks pose a very high risk and are not advised. Lawn equipment on dry grass and the disposal of cigarettes should also be carefully monitored.

“Very simply, these drought conditions mean one stray spark can cause a ravaging wildfire,” said Dozier. “We want people to have an enjoyable summer, but it can easily go up in smoke if everybody’s not careful.”

Today an east wind blew in with a slight breeze that dissipated most of the smoke.
For that I am thankful.

My heart aches for those living near the fire area. They must be really suffering.

Please join me in praying for rain.

Mother's Day

When I was growing up the custom on Mother's Day was to wear a flower honoring our mothers. If your mother was living you wore a red rose or other flower. If she was deceased you wore a white flower. I do not know if this was just a southern custom or if was nation wide.

My father died when I was nine but my mother lived to be 91 years old. When she died I was 55. I was fortunate to have her for so long. She got to enjoy our three children and they were devoted to her. She lived with us for 13 years and we had a built in sitter when my husband and I went out.

Today, there is so much I would like to talk over with my Mother. Now that I too have grown old, I understand the aches and pains and concerns and worries that she had back then. When I was younger I simply did not have enough patience and empathy and for that I am sorry.

Now, every night as I turn the living room lights off I pass by my Mother's picture when she was a young woman of about 25, I blow her a kiss goodnight and tell her that I love her.

All I can do now is hope she understands.

"Scents" of smell

Roger B. on his most excellent blog, "There's Always Something" recently posted about some of his favorite scents:

This got me to thinking so I commented to Roger:



"Roger, this post conjured up so many glorious smells for me and yes, sometimes we are not appreciative enough of all our senses.

One scent that stayed with me for years was, indeed, "the scent of a woman." When my husband and I lived in Washington D.C. for 4 years we had an apartment at the Watergate. Claire Boothe Luce, the widow of Henry Luce who started "Time" and "Life" magazines, had two penthouse apartments there and we would sometimes ride the elevator with her. I always silently admired the lovely scent about her. Not too sweet, not overpowering, but just right.

Some years later, when we were back in Atlanta I started remembering the scent of Mrs. Luce's perfume and I wanted to duplicate it if possible. But how to find out. Claire Boothe Luce was now deceased.

I decided to Google her name and I came up with a book by Letitia Baldridge who was Mrs Luce's personal assistant for many years including when she served as Ambassador to Rome from the US. I found the book, and lo and behold. Ms Baldridge revealed that Mrs Luce wore the French perfume, "Joy" by Jean Patou. She mixed it with another lighter fragrance.

Amazing what one can discover with a "good Google"

My sweet husband bought me a bottle of "Joy" last Mother's Day and I mix it with "Cefiro" by Floris of London

Works for me:)"


(Check out Roger's blog by clicking on title to this post.)
...

What are some of your favorite aromas? Cinnamon apple pie baking in the oven, honey suckle on a summer's evening, a baby's skin after a refreshing bath...a fresh Christmas tree-------
or whatever

Dogs I have known and loved

In about 1937, as an eight year old I got my first dog, a brown and white beagle puppy. We named him Mickey after the cartoon character, Mickey Mouse. Mickey was an outside dog who ran free where ever he chose. No leash laws then and not much car traffic. He belonged to me and my older brother, Donald. When Donald went into the Navy during WW2, Mickey became my responsibility. He was a good dog and lots of fun He would sit on the front steps with me and at night we would gaze up at the clear, smog free sky and admire the Big and Little Dipper and all the bright stars twinkling above. Mickey was like a best friend for a little girl whose Father died when she was nine.

I did not have another dog until I was all grown up, married and my first child was born. When my daughter was about 4 years old, she started begging and pleading for a puppy. My husband and I looked in the newspaper and saw an ad for "Pug" puppies. I had never seen a Pug dog so we decided one Sunday to ride over to the seller's house and just "take a look" at the dogs. (you understand, we are NOT buying a dog, just looking). But of course we came back with an adorable little puppy. Who could resist those huge eyes and that curly tail. We named her "Lady"

Next there was a Collie dog we bought from my husband's secretary whose dog has just had a litter. I have to say this Collie was the dumbest dog I have ever known. She followed the children to school. She ran off and got locked in the unfinished basement of a house about 2 miles away. This was in a small town like suburb so we were not too surprised when one day "Lassie" came riding home in the back seat of a police patrol car. She was sitting up like the Queen of Sheba and enjoying herself immensely. It was pouring down rain and the policeman had spread his raincoat on the back seat to keep it dry and avoid wet dog fur and smell.

Then there was a precious little puppy that we named Sugar. She was a snow white West Highland White Terrier with a black button nose. We bred Sugar to a neighbor's Westie but it did not take. Later we bred her to another Westie and she produced two puppies which we gave away. Sugar was a real sweetheart. And smart too.

Our last dog was Mollie, an English Springer Spaniel, that my son chose for his sixteeth birthday. He spent many hours training Mollie and she turned out to be the best dog ever. Smart, obedient, fun, loyal. All the best attributes one wishes for in a companion dog. When our son went off to college, Mollie and I became inseparable friends.

Now I have grand dogs. Bella, the Havanese, comes to visit sometimes. When our daughter and her family are out of town we keep Bella and I pretend she is mine.

At my age a grand dog is the best of all worlds; just like grandchildren, spoil them and then send them home.

Are you a dog person? Tell us about it.

"Closet Disorder"

If you visited my home you would think I was the neatest, most organized person on the planet. You would not see any old newspapers or magazines on the floors or tables, no dishes in the sink, no crumbs on the counter tops. No clothes draped across the treadmill or chairs. All the wash is done and clothes immediately folded and put away.

But don't you dare open my closets. Disaster. My bedroom closet has been calling my name loudly every time I open it for several weeks now but I chose not to answer with action. Until this morning. I started to just rearrange the mess of winter and summer clothes and boxes and shoes but I got brave and took everything out and laid the clothes on my bed to sort our and make some decisions as to what to retain and what to toss.

So, now instead of tackling the job at hand I decided I should sit down at the computer and check out Ronni Bennett"s blog,"Time Goes By" and stop by and see what "Maya's Granny" is up to in Alaska after she was kind enough to comment on Driftwood. I also read about Rosie O'Donnell leaving(fired-let go) "The View".

I know my lack of action comes under the heading of procrastination and I should get busy, but I just looked out the window to see the sunshine and blue sky I am wasting by doing drudge work.

So what should I do? Go for a walk and leave the clothes and closet until tomorrow when rain is forecast?

Sounds like a good idea to me.

But what about all the clothes on my bed?

Nice weather at last

I hope all of you are enjoying some of this delightful springtime weather now that winter has finally retreated into it's dark den for good.

I trust I did not speak too soon as just about 10 days ago we were surprised with barely 25 degree nights and some sleet during the day which is unheard of in Atlanta in April. Now, however, it is sunny and calm with a temperature of about 75 balmy degrees.

The pink azaleas in front of my town house have finished blooming and the pansy bed which bloomed all winter has been replaced with multi-colored pink and white impatiens. I don't have quite enough shade for impatiens but I love them so I cross my fingers and do a lot of watering when the hot, hot days of summer arrive.

What's going on weather wise in your little corner of the world?

Youthanasia

I got a chuckle out of this definition in today's New York Times Style Magazine





"Youthanasia / (yooth en azhe) / n. / a neologism for the controversial practice of performing a battery of age-defying medical procedures to end lifeless skin and wrinkles; advocated by some as a last-resort measure to put the chronically youth-obsessed out of their misery: “My doctor was on the fence about youthanasia, but I whined so much that he finally agreed to perform my abdominoplasty, mammoplasty and rhytidectomy, all at once.” Think of it as mercy lifting"

Elder Story Telling Place

Check out Ronni Bennett's new blog, "Elder Story Telling Place," which she just started a little over a week ago. Ronni is one talented blogger and full of interesting new ideas.

Mick Brady, Cowtown Pattie, Tamar, Norm Jensen, Colleen Shannon and I have posted short stories recently.

Drop by when you can. (click on title for link)

PS: I posted this last year on Ronni's birthday and it reminds me of Elder Story Telling and also what an inspiration Ronni Bennett is for us all.
....




"Serendipity ...( The faculty of making fortunate discoveries by accident. )


One fine day I packed a picnic lunch and set out on a ramble to search for blogs and articles on "Aging." I wandered over to Google and quickly came across "Time Goes By," the blog on positive aging by Ronni Bennett. As I lingered there I came across a group of people, friends, comrades in arms gathered around a wise elder blogger. I pulled up a tree stump and sat down around the camp fire and felt the warmth of good fellowship as I read the diary entries and comments.

I lingered in the forest, absorbing the camaraderie, advice, issues, concerns, and just plain old fashioned horse sense. Soon I could no longer allow myself to simply lurk behind a tree on the periphery and read; I jumped in and commented occasionally.

From the central point in the woods of "Time Goes By" I followed the path that Ronni had pointed out in her links. This path has taken me to Japan, Scotland, France, England, the North, South, East and West of the US. I became acquainted with bloggers from all over the world. Still, I always come back to the incandescence of Ronni's "Time Goes By."

Thank you Ronni for sharing your many talents with us all and leading us into the realm of positive aging."

Wisdom Of Larry the Cable Guy

I LIKE NUMBER 21 BEST

The Wisdom of Larry the Cable Guy

1. A day without sunshine is like night.

2. On the other hand, you have different fingers.

3. 42.7 percent of all statistics are made up on the spot.

4. 99 percent of lawyers give the rest a bad name.

5. Remember, half the people you know are below average.

6. He who laughs last thinks slowest.

7. Depression is merely anger without enthusiasm.

8. The early bird may get the worm, but the second mouse gets the cheese in
the trap.

9. Support bacteria. They're the only culture some people have.

10. A clear conscience is usually the sign of a bad memory.

11. Change is inevitable, except from vending machines.

12. If you think nobody cares, try missing a couple of payments.

13. How many of you believe in psycho-kinesis? Raise my hand.

14. OK, so what's the speed of dark?

15. When everything is coming your way, you're in the wrong lane.

16. Hard work pays off in the future. Laziness pays off now.

17. How much deeper would the ocean be without sponges?

18. Eagles may soar, but weasels don't get sucked into jet engines

19. What happens if you get scared half to death, twice?

20. Why do psychics have to ask you for your name?

21. Inside every older person is a younger person wondering, "What the heck
happened?"

22. Just remember -- if the world didn't suck, we would all fall off.

23. Light travels faster than sound. That's why some people appear bright
until you hear them speak