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.
Sunday, November 25, 2007
Friday, November 16, 2007
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?
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?
Thursday, November 08, 2007
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 ?"
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 ?"
Sunday, November 04, 2007
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!"
"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!"
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
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")
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")
Friday, October 19, 2007
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.
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.
Thursday, October 18, 2007
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."
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."
Sunday, October 14, 2007
"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.
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.
Thursday, October 11, 2007
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.
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.
Thursday, October 04, 2007
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
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
Monday, October 01, 2007
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....:))
"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....:))
Saturday, September 22, 2007
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
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
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
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
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
Thursday, September 13, 2007
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.
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.
Thursday, September 06, 2007
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.
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.
Monday, September 03, 2007
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
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
Saturday, August 25, 2007
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
"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
Sunday, August 19, 2007
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.
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.
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
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
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
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
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Friday, August 10, 2007
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
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
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