Cherry Tree

It's been a dreary, drizzly day. I'm sure the ground is welcoming the slow steady rain. And it's been gentle enough that you won't get drenched going outside.......but there really haven't been any breaks, either. We enjoyed driving to Chillicothe today – we did notice that Grand River is up and rolling. More rain came down in the northern part of the state Sunday than what we got.

I came to grips with yet another reality of where I am in life – I went to the Social Security Office this morning and chatted with them about getting signed up at the end of the year and what my monthly payment will be. I was pleasantly surprised to find out that it would be a decent amount. I've worked so many low-paying jobs in my life, always pretty much entry level, that I wasn't sure I could count on getting enough to live on. But it looks like I'm okay – and I'm sure that knowledge will make my kids as happy as it does me! As long as the government stays solvent, I'll be okay. And that, my friends, is my Pollyanna statement for today.

We decided to stop at Applebee's for lunch, and parked next to someone we used to work with. It was fun to chat with him for a few minutes. We got home feeling like we really accomplished a lot today. And the day's not over. I, though, think I would enjoy a good nap right now. The furnace in the building was turned back on today, so it's a little stuffy. I got a new toy at Walmart that I need to put together – not really anything fun, but a new rolling laundry cart that needs to be assembled. I enjoy putting things together.

I was that way as a kid, too. One of my favorite Christmas gifts was a Lincoln Log set. I spent a lot of hours with it. Dad made me a little toolbox, and I had a hammer, some screwdrivers and pliers in it, and a few other small tools. I can't remember that I ever actually used it much, but it was nice to know it was there. I did use the screwdrivers to tighten bolts on my bicycle. And I probably used the hammer to crack walnuts in the fall.

I was such a tomboy as a kid. I always hung around outside with Dad. In fact, Mom worked off and on which left Dad as my caregiver. I often went with him to round up the milk cows in the evening in good weather. (I was definitely a fair-weather farmer!) I played in the timber, helped stack wood – sort of. I never got very good at climbing trees, though I wished I could. We had a smaller cherry tree in the back yard, and that was one tree I could climb. I spent hours out there. There was a place up in the tree where I could sit and enjoy things – in fact, there was enough room for two if one of my cousins happened to be with me.

There was a lower branch that was sturdy but springy, and it turned into my makeshift horse. One day exploring in the smokehouse I found some old horse equipment – I think a pair of stirrups and a rope or something that filled in as the reins. That make-believe horse and I covered a lot of territory. I asked for a real horse, but for some reason that didn't go over well. So I stuck with the one in the cherry tree – which didn't cost anything to feed.

That cherry tree was kind of a refuge for me as well. I would go up there and think when things weren't going well. I distinctly remember one time I used it as a refuge from punishment – I can't remember what I did, but Mom started after me. Why I decided to take off, I'll never figure out. But I took off at top speed for the cherry tree and climbed as fast as I could. Instead of coming up after me, which I'm sure she could have, Mom just stood on the ground, looked up, and wisely said “you have to come down sometime – and the longer it takes, the worse it will be”. My mom may be little, but she can be scary. And she was also right – I had to eventually come down, and it didn't bode well for me when I skulked back in the house.

I always enjoyed taking my kids back to the farm when they were little. We got a big kick out of seeing them enjoy the same things I did, climbing the tree, playing with my toys, and so forth. And they enjoyed a big toy I never had – there was a big propane tank in the yard to climb on.

Stormy Weather

We had what some might consider to be an exciting weekend in the Midwest. It is, though, the kind of excitement I prefer to not have all the time! Saturday was a calm day – I just cleaned the house, did laundry, and those “fun” routine chores. Sunday started out nice – just a quiet morning with a pot of ham and beans simmering on the stove.

After lunch, we turned on the Royals' game on TV and were relaxing. I was stretched out in the recliner and hubby was on the sofa. I was just dropping off to sleep with the tornado sirens went off. It's amazing how, even at this age, I can still jump into quick action at that sound!. I was up and out of the recliner, heading to the bedroom to find my shoes with my cellphone in hand before I really had both eyes open. Hubby was right behind me, looking for his long pants and shoes. We got that accomplished and headed out the door.

We're fortunate that we really don't have nasty weather all the time – really it's only once every few years on the average. I did, though, feel pretty safe. We headed down the staircase just outside our door to the ground floor, leaving the elevator for those in wheelchairs and walkers. On the first floor there's an interior hallway where everyone gathers to wait out the storm. Several had brought battery-powered radios, so we could listen to the weather reports. We were down there about half an hour before we got the all-clear – and in the meantime there had been very hard rain, blowing winds, and hail. There were some trees and tree limbs down around down, but not disastrously bad damage. One of my favorite houses in town did have a tree come down on it.

The rest of our day was quiet, a lot of listening to the scanner as law enforcement reported on damage around the county. But I never got unwound enough to go back to my nap.

I remember well my 7^th grade year of school when we had the tornado siren go off on a lovely spring afternoon while my school was hosting a track meet. The junior high and high school were all outside watching the three-way meet when the sirens went off – and we all looked to the west and could actually see a distinct funnel cloud. That was a really active weather year, and we'd just had tornado drills. So we all knew to head across the street to the Baptist Church basement. Once they knew the danger was past, they loaded us on our buses to head home. My bus ended up pulling to the side of the road for a few minutes as another front moved through. I was really glad to get home that day and see everything safe and sound.

We so often ended up going to the storm cellar in the middle of the night. I hated those times of being woke up and dragged out of my nice comfy bed to run out into the rain, around the side of the house and into the cool cellar – we couldn't take the most direct route to the cellar because of how the power lines came into the house. There was a storm drain in the cellar, but it inevitably wouldn't work when the barometric pressure changed so quickly during a storm. One or two dogs I had (they don't always last too long in the country) were spooked by storms and would run through that cold standing water in the cellar and jump into my lap.

One night after the rain and wind quit, Dad opened the cellar door a bit to check on the weather, then quickly called Mom and me to join him. The clouds were passing, the moon came out bright, and very high in the sky was a perfectly-shaped little funnel cloud that drifted along and drifted apart as we watched, ending up as a few innocent fluffy clouds. I was fascinated by that.

One spring evening when Dad and I were watching the weather on TV, we had a storm come through. I wanted to go to the cellar and Dad was more than happy to go with me. Mom refused, she was in the middle of washing dishes. Later she admitted that a gust of wind had rocked that corner room where she was standing.

She evacuated with us yesterday – if only she'd thought to put on some shoes first.

Mrs. Mosher

Yesterday's rain is gone and the sun is shining brightly today. We're in the midst of a couple of busy weeks – nothing major, but a lot of errands to run and appointments to keep. It'll be a few days before we get back to whatever “normal” is. The good news is that the closing on our house will happen in less than a week, several days earlier than anticipated. It will be nice to finish that up and have all the utilities turned off, insurance canceled, etc.

After getting that good news this morning, we decided to go out for lunch to celebrate. That may have also had something to do with our getting home too late for me to make the casserole I'd planned for lunch. It doesn't matter how it happened, we both enjoyed some fried catfish strips for lunch. And I have a beautiful piece of coconut cream pie waiting in the fridge whenever I feel hungry again.

There has been quite a bit of reminiscing about school teachers on the Facebook group page from my hometown lately. I was amused by one person posting a memory about our former high school principal getting a new pair of shoes that squeaked and never wearing them again.

She was quite memorable as a principal. Her office had a window overlooking the back of the study hall. She was frequently in that window on the days the entire high school was in their seats during a free period. She wasn't above tapping on that window and shaking her head and her index finger at anyone who wasn't behaving and was under the radar of whoever was monitoring study hall.

She liked to keep an eye on everything and tried to keep a low profile while doing it. So she always wore rubber-soled shoes. She had a very quick walk and always tried to be very “stealth” when she walked the halls between rooms. Her downfall was the old creaky floorboards! No matter how hard she tried to sneak up on us when she thought someone might be misbehaving, we could always hear her coming.

During my freshman year, we had one of those unfortunate teachers for math who is simply unable to keep order in the classroom. We had one of “those” students in our class, and the principal was always trying to catch him perpetuating his orneriness on that poor hapless teacher. Even when he was caught, his behavior didn't change.

Another of the principal's domains was the lunchroom. Seventh through twelfth grades ate together, and she was always at the door. Not only was she keeping order, but she was sending us through grade by grade. Each day of the week a different class got to go through the line first (and we all knew how we were to fill up the tables once we got our meals). Monday the seniors went first; Tuesday the juniors went first and the seniors went to the back of the line. And so it went throughout the week, finishing up with the junior high going first on Friday. We were supposed to be kept strictly separate by grade, and most of the time the principal's plan worked well.

During my junior year, though, there was a time she was given a run for her money by some of us who were a bit crafty. One of my classmates was best friends with a senior. Both she and her best friend were dating senior boys. That worked out okay (except for the obvious Tuesday, when the seniors were last in line) until I also started dating a senior boy. It took some quick, evasive maneuvering to make it so all three couples got to sit together at lunch and not get caught. It involved being close together in line and then switching places in line just as we entered the kitchen from the lunchroom, when we were out of her line of sight.

She retired two years after I graduated, and I'm sure the school wasn't the same. We were always so used to her caveats, like “now or a little sooner”, her rubber-soled shoes, and the practice of always having a hanky tucked under her wrist watch. She seemed so old then – it's a shock now to “do the math” and realize that my generation is closing in on the age she was at retirement........we're not old at all!

The Smokehouse

It's been a cool, cloudy day, and right now it's pouring rain. A bit of lightning and thunder is moving in, and from the looks of weather radar we might as well settle in for the afternoon. We're at the beginning edge of this weather front, and it stretches west into Kansas.

Rainy days on the farm, especially on weekends or during the summer, seemed so long. I was usually limited on how much TV I could watch – and there were a period of time in elementary school when we didn't have a TV. Normally I could amuse myself playing outside. But the rainy days really put a damper on that.

We had an old shed behind the house that was dubbed “the smokehouse”. I don't know if it ever was actually used as a smokehouse, but it was incredibly old and full of treasures. It was one of my favorite places to play. I had a kid-sized kitchen set (partly from Santa and partly build by Dad) that ended up in the smokehouse. Mom kept her empty canning jars out there. Dad's tools were in there. And then there was “stuff”. I know there was an attic in the shed and there were some things up there, but it was too rickety for me to attempt climbing up to see.

All the toys I had outgrown had long since been relegated to the smokehouse. And on those long rainy days, I would often spend hours out there. I could let my imagination run and come up with a make-believe scenario that would keep me busy. I would set up my kitchen set, then sweep the floor and arrange things and would be running an Old West saloon. Or I could be running a restaurant. On other days I would just go through the stash of toys and play with things I'd forgot about........one of the perks of being an only child is that your toys don't wear out or get broken. Once in awhile I'd run into something that had become musty and moldy and needed to be thrown out.

Over the years I would go through the treasures out there and make an attempt at straightening things up so we had more room – and I had more room to play. I think there were even a few times that I would make myself a peanut butter sandwich and stay out there through lunchtime. There was an old metal lunchbox that lived in the smokehouse that was rectangular, green, and had a pop-off lid that I would use. (I even occasionally used it to take my lunch to school.) I never got tired of hanging out in the smokehouse.

As I grew, Dad fastened a basketball hoop to the outside wall of the smokehouse. So there was still another reason to hang out there a lot. I spent a lot of time playing basketball by myself. It's hard to win that way. In early spring I would have to dodge the blooming daffodils and the winter onions that came up year after year. Otherwise, I had a pretty good basketball area.

When Mom moved off the farm to her apartment, she had all the belongings she couldn't bring with her auctioned off. It was amazing at the sale to see all the things they'd pulled out of that smokehouse – I can remember a few things that I saw and commented that I didn't remember seeing that before. Maybe they were brave enough to crawl up in that attic!

All the buildings on the farm have been gone for over 20 years now. But like all the rest, I can still clearly see that nondescript building with the huge rock at its door that served as a step. And I can still smell the dusty mustiness that was always inside the smokehouse, regardless of how many hours I spent out there sweeping.

Driving

I'm looking out at the sunshine, enjoying actually being able to breathe today. While the air hasn't been turned on yet in the building, the heat has been turned off. And that allows us to run that fan and circulate air, keeping the inside temp comfortable while also being able to close the windows. Up here with all kinds of trees outside our windows really accentuates this spring's “pollen vortex”.

It was good to hear responses on yesterday's blog from people who have found a few spring mushrooms. That's such a positive sign of spring.

Older daughter texted me a couple of photos last night. The 5-year-old whirlwind is graduating from day care/preschool next month, and the photos of her were in her cap and gown. Talk about time flying – it seems like yesterday she was just a tiny baby. And here she is, in her cap and gown with a pose that makes her look so much older that 5. Grandma's just not ready for that. And the reality is that in just three short years we'll be attending high school graduation for both grandsons.

My graduation felt so long in coming. There were a lot of aspects of high school that I really wasn't comfortable with. Add in the longing I had to see something – anything! - outside the borders of Carroll County, and time seemed like it just crawled. I always felt like I was in the wrong class at school, the friends I felt closest to were in the class ahead of me. So I felt really left behind when they graduated.

I remember agonizing over the choice of which college I wanted to attend. And one of the things that weighed heavily in my decision was transportation. Dad was always afraid I would hurt myself, and he never wanted me out running around on the weekends with other kids my age. And so I graduated high school without having a driver's license. This meant I was always dependent on someone else for transportation. And Dad wasn't comfortable driving many places.

All this factored in my decision to attend a small private college just 45 minutes from home. It was in a small town that Dad was comfortable driving in. And three members of that class a year ahead of me were attending there. I figured in a pinch I could always catch a ride home somehow.

It amazes me now to look back and realize how much that one decision and everything that factored into it changed my life. Everything since that point in my life has sprung from that one seemingly small decision. And that one decision was based on the fact that I didn't drive.

Our two grandsons are now 15. Neither of them seems to be very anxious to get their license. I think one of them is just procrastinating. The other one just didn't care if he ever learned to drive. He and I had a talk about that awhile back, and I could share with him how it felt not being able to be responsible for my own transportation. It even factored into what career I eventually chose. I like to think that maybe our talk had an impact on him, because it wasn't long after that when he got his permit. Now, if I could just figure out how to motivate the other one!

Like most farm kids, I actually learned how to drive on the farm well ahead of that magical age of 16. I took my written exam many times but never had the opportunity to progress from that. When I got married at age 20, one of the first things I did was take a written exam in Idaho on a dare from my new brother-in-law. Both of us passed, even though I'd never seen the Idaho Driver's Manual.

When we got settled in Wichita, I went in to take the written test for Kansas so I could get that permit and gear up for taking the driving exam......especially in a “big city”. I handed in my Idaho learner's permit as instructed – and I was shocked to receive back a full-fledged Kansas driver's license. I could only guess they didn't read the permit correctly and thought it was a temporary license.

I think Dad about had a heart attack when I wrote and told him that at long last I had my license......without taking a driving test. I can only hope I never have to.

Mushrooms

Some rain went through yesterday evening and cooled things off a bit. The humidity also let up a bit after it cooled off. Today is bright and sunshiney. I love the fresh clean look everything has after a spring rain.

We took a short road trip with friends this morning. Both hubbies needed new overalls, so mine got introduced to a store he didn't know existed in a nearby town. I knew it was there, but it had slipped my mind that the store carried overalls and such – it's more known for carrying a wide variety of fabric. Both guys came back with large packages – new overalls for both, new socks for my hubby, and new jeans for the other one. We gals figured the next road trip should be for us to shop!

The new overalls needed to be washed, so we sorted our laundry and threw a couple of loads in when we got back. All that is done and put away, fresh towels hung up, etc. I'm ready to take a brisk walk outside. The body needs to wake up!

This time of year I really miss the farm. It was always such fun when spring came and the weather warmed up. Once the calendar got to mid-April, we had a few showers and warm weather, our minds naturally turned to hunting mushrooms.

I haven't heard of anyone finding mushrooms yet this year, but we've had a good spring for them. They should be popping up soon. I feel bad for anyone who's missed out on the excitement of walking through the timber looking for morels in the spring. There's supposed to be a science of where to find them. My experience shows that sometimes there is, and then other times it's completely random.

I remember one year when I was finding mushrooms at random spots in the yard – and that was the only year for that to happen. But I found several. I always checked those spots in later years, but nothing appeared.

Mom, Dad and I would often go through the timber together mushroom hunting. We usually had good luck and would come home with enough to cook up for a good meal – nothing else was required on the table when there was a platter of fresh mushrooms. It was like fresh-caught catfish.....you just ate until you were stuffed, then sat back for a few minutes to catch your breath and then start eating again!

There was one really memorable year for mushrooms. I might have been in junior high. I think we each had a big grocery bag and walked through the timber, somewhat following the little creek that ran through the farm. At one spot someone decided (I think it was Mom) to check the creek bank. It was the biggest jackpot we ever found. All three of us descended on that creek bank and started picking mushrooms. It began to feel like for every mushroom we picked, three would pop up in its place. Every time we thought we were about done, we would turn around or move a few more feet and there would be more.

I'm not sure we ever got that spot completely picked clean, but I know we had enough mushrooms to feed us and my cousin's family that year. And I don't think we ever found mushrooms in that spot again. It's been several years since I've had any mushrooms, and I know they would taste good. But I don't crave them enough to pay for them.......there are people who make a business of going out in the Missouri River Bottoms and picking mushrooms along the river, then selling them for around $20 a pound.

After talking about all that eating, I really am ready to take my walk now.

Customer Service

A warm, muggy afternoon. No rain yet, but radar looks like we might have some move in within the next hour. Hubby and I will do our afternoon walk inside – neither of us want to melt in the rain. 

And Easter is over. We had a very quiet but nice weekend. It has been quite warm outside the last few days – and so we're ready for the apartment building to be switched over from furnace to air conditioning. It may not happen for a few weeks yet, but we really see the science behind heat rising living on the third floor.....ceiling fan is on high, all windows are to the top, lights are off. There's a gentle breeze outside, so it's been bearable so far – with the exception of when I was cooking lunch.

As I reflected on Friday's blog about Easter eggs, I kept coming back to those marshmallow Easter eggs the bunny always brought. No offense to the bunny, but those things were nasty tasting! I know they were very reasonably priced at the local five-and-dime, and that's why they showed up year after year. Mom was always gracious enough to help eat the jellybeans, especially the black ones. I could handle a few, but I didn't care for them all that much.

I would eat some of the Easter eggs as well, on principle. But soon their true taste came through. I'd nibble the ends off a few, but the taste never improved. They had a long life as something to play with. I remember a year or two being told that since “it's almost the 4^th of July”, I should really throw them away. Mom can occasionally exaggerate a bit, so I can't verify that it really WAS almost the 4^th when I got rid of the eggs. If there had been peanut butter eggs in my day, they wouldn't have lasted long at all!

We had one of those mornings that leave you wondering why you ever bothered to open the mail. We had a mailing from our former satellite TV provider. They had shut off service as requested March 15 when we moved, and we had returned the SIM card from our receiver. We had been billed for just a partial month of service in March and thought everything was squared away. Not so. Today's mailing showed us owing $39.99........from a 2012 Pay-Per-View purchase of NFL Sunday ticket. 

When hubby called to unravel the issue, he got someone in Customer Service who obviously did not speak English as a primary language. She also had a somewhat condescending attitude. Needless to say, that conversation did not go well. Hubby kept asking her to check our account history, kept repeating that we purchased NFL Sunday Ticket for an early-buy discount, and paid the entire amount up front. She did finally check that part, but would not listen to his logic that we would not do a pay-per-view for one weekend when we'd already purchased the entire season.

He finally requested a supervisor, and asked me if I would take over the conversation. She was entering contact notes in the computer to forward to a supervisor, so I remained patient and listened to her data entry. Finally she came back on the line and told me she had sent the notes and would be connecting me. She didn't even pay enough attention to realize Hubby had passed her over to me. I started talking to the supervisor and immediately lost the call.

I dialed the Customer Service number again and was answered by a pleasant-sounding young man in Phoenix. I told him the backstory and that my call had been cut off. He checked their computer until he found the notes from Hubby's prior call. He asked me to go through the issue with him again, and as I was talking he was looking at our account history. He agreed immediately that we had been long-term customers with no payment issues. He checked and verified that we'd ordered and paid for 2012 NFL Sunday Ticket in June 2012, and that the Pay-Per-View was for a one-time purchase on November 30 – and he volunteered that didn't make any sense.

He typed up his additional notes as he tried to coax us to reconnect their services. I told him that cable comes with our apartment and we weren't allowed satellite (if that's not on our contract with the apartment, it should be!!). We were transferred to a Billing Services supervisor who checked the facts and immediately said she would reverse the charges. I don't know where Hubby's original Customer Service person was from, but they're definitely a lot warmer in Phoenix.

Easter Eggs

A beautiful day, and a great lunch out with another friend. It was so good to see her and catch up with one another......we finally had to leave so the restaurant could close and have their break between lunch and supper!

Now I'm doing laundry. That's one of the few things I miss from the house – the ability to throw a load in whenever I wanted and then just walk away. I thought I would find empty machines on Good Friday afternoon. One machine was just finishing a load, so I started one load and waited on the owner of the other laundry. My first load was at least halfway through its cycle before I got the second one started. I scurried back to the apartment and wrote down how much time I had left for both of them. At least it's not far to the laundry room!

All in all, the only thing that frustrates me with the laundry is having to pay for it. I don't mind sharing the machines, and sometimes it's a good time to chat with our neighbors. But we're still discovering this wonderful new world we live in.

It seems strange for it to be Easter weekend and I haven't bought Easter candy. Of course, I haven't bought much over the past few years. But I still miss that part of having kids at home. I didn't try to have Easter Egg Hunts for my kids – I figured they'd kill each other over finding the most eggs! With my bunch, it seemed much smarter to simply make an Easter basket for each one. There was plenty of candy and plastic eggs, and I usually tried to get them a book or toy so it wasn't all destroying their teeth. We usually had fun dying Easter eggs, too. My kids loved deviled eggs and potato salad, so there was no problem if we did several dozen.

As an only child, I realized that I had it made when it came to holidays. Easter was no exception. The Easter Bunny always did a stellar job of depositing goodies in every room of the house. I have to admit that I'm more fond of the current generation of Easter Bunny – in my day, the majority of what was delivered were these hard-shelled marshmallow filled eggs and jelly beans........not Jelly Bellies, just plain old jelly beans. They were fun to find, but their taste left something to be desired.

Another bonus of being an only child was not having anyone else in the family to burst any bubbles. And so I was older than most when I became wiser about such things. I'm not sure what age I was the year that the Easter Bunny overslept. Or I woke up earlier than normal. I never did figure out which happened. I remember getting out of bed and checking my room for Easter eggs. The Easter Bunny always hit every room in the house. Mom heard me and came in to “help” me look.

We looked in every corner of my room, under furniture, in toy boxes, around the knick-knack shelves. If it was in that room, we did a thorough search. And there was nothing. Finally Mom suggested we check another room. I wasn't feeling too hopeful......and then – oh, joy! Easter eggs! We checked the other two bedrooms, kitchen, pantry, and dining room......and in every room there were Easter eggs. I felt much better. And then the strangest thing happened – Mom suggested that we look in my bedroom again.

I was beginning to question whether she'd lost her marbles or not since we'd already torn that room apart. But, I went in to check. That was when the biggest excitement of all came – there were Easter eggs in my room! Man, if I'd only taken a different route through the house, I might have caught the Easter Bunny at work! And how did I not see or hear him? After all, the rooms of the house all opened into one another, there weren't any closed doors. It was one of my most exciting mysteries.

Dad joined Mom and me on the Great Easter Egg Hunt when we were about halfway through the house. If he was out of breath, I didn't notice then. But I never had to search my room for Easter eggs that weren't there again.

Wasting Food

Yesterday turned out to be one of those long days that leave you with a bit of frustration. I didn't have much that I “needed” to do, so I started on my list of “what I want to get accomplished”. Nothing major happened, just a series of little events that left me feeling like I didn't accomplish anything. As a result, I was feeling pretty prickly by evening.

The monthly Harvesters Food Drop was yesterday. Hubby goes down at 11 and gets our numbers so we don't have to wait in line so long. We waited until nearly 2 before we headed down there – 2:15 is the semi-official start time for handing out food. But the truck was late, and there was a lot of produce in cases that had to be repackaged into bags or smaller boxes. It was almost 3 before they started sending people through the line.

By the time we got home, unloaded our goodies, and I got everything put away – it was coming up on 4:30. I was frustrated enough that I didn't try to accomplish anything the rest of the day. On the other hand, our evening meals were pretty good. I heated up and sliced some leftover steak, then added it to a bun from yesterday's haul and added some fresh salsa. That was yummy and woke up my taste buds. I added some sliced zucchini and yellow pepper to my plate and munched on those as well.

Today I cut up a cantaloup, and used some fresh tomatoes to make breaded tomatoes for lunch. Hubby never tasted that before, and he's ready for me to make it again. I'm enjoying more yogurt and individual cartons of milk – and trying to do what I can do with a 20 pound bag of potatoes for just the two of us! I totally forgot this morning that we also got some coffee creamer yesterday.

A gal I've known since I was a little girl was in line near us yesterday. We were watching the pallets of produce coming in and discussing the amount of food brought every month. We discovered that we both feel the same way about wasting stuff that we just simply can't get used up – like that 20 pounds of potatoes. We were raised in the same area, with the same values. We weren't raised to waste food. I have a hard time every time we get home with our share of the food – so much of it is on the verge of going bad, and it's hard to even sort that out and get rid of it. It's even harder with you find something you don't care for. At least here in the apartment building I have the opportunity of sharing with neighbors. Unfortunately, everyone was stocked up on potatoes.

In the meantime, I may end up being like Bubba from the movie “Forrest Gump” when he was telling Forrest how many ways he can fix shrimp – there are baked potatoes, fried potatoes, boiled potatoes, mashed potatoes, potato salad, potato cakes..........and there are still only two of us!

Another friend I haven't seen in awhile is coming into town tomorrow to get her dog groomed. She'll drop off the pooch, come get me, and we're going out to lunch together. Twice in one week made Hubby chuckle and ask if he needs to put me on an “eating out” budget! I know he was just giving me a hard time. I'm very blessed that he's happy I get spend time with my friends.

Girl Time

I had a fun day. I'm not so sure about hubby. We found out yesterday afternoon that our dentist is leaving town the end of the month, and hubby is in the middle of some dental work. He contacted the office yesterday to schedule the remainder of his work. They scheduled him in at 9:15 this morning, which wasn't a particularly fun way to start the day. But at least he'll be able to finish the dental work with the person who started it!

I headed to Marshall for girls' lunch with a good friend. We used to work together and have kept in contact. It had been much too long since we'd had lunch together. Lunch was good – she got me to try a new soup, and I got her to try a new sandwich. We were both pleased with our choices. After a long visit, she got back to work and I headed to Walmart. It was nearly three when I headed toward home.

I had one of those head-scratching moments in Walmart. I needed some cash, which I got when I paid for my purchases. Then I went to the in-store bank to turn part of the paper into a roll of quarters for the laundry machines. A man in a wheelchair was at the counter, so I stayed back a ways to give him plenty of turning room when he finished.

As I stood there, an older lady came up to me and said, “Ma'am, let me show you how you need to close your bags that have a lot of little items in them.” Then she proceeds to show me how to pull one handle through the opposite hole and repeat that two or three times to create a drawstring and cinch the sack closed so things won't topple out in my car. I'm sure I had a dumbfounded look on my face as she instructed me on the technique. All I could manage to say was “thank you” when she finished.

I really wa

nted to ask her if I really looked like I needed help with my shopping bags. It also crossed my mind to ask her if she realized that the only thing in that bag was a carton of 18 eggs. There were no little items to topple out, and I'm sure the carton wouldn't have toppled since I'm very careful how I put the eggs in the car. Really, I've shopped before in my life. And I've learned how to tie those shopping bags shut..........when I load them in the car. I can tell what might be in danger of spilling......or, as she put it, tumbling out.

I have another friend I haven't seen for awhile who plans on being in town soon. I'm looking forward to catching up with her, too. Life is too short to pass by an occasional chance for Girls' Day!

The Brick Church

Spring was wonderful while it lasted, but we're back to winter today. Friday was gorgeous, Saturday we got to the mid 80's. Yesterday....well, it was very windy, overcast, and the temps dropped during the afternoon. There was lightning, thunder and rain. By the time we got up this morning it was down to 37. And there was a lot of the morning that little snowflakes were floating down. Younger daughter and her hubby took a brief Caribbean cruise this weekend and will be landing in KC about 7 this evening – that will be a shock for their systems!

We had a really good weekend. Saturday morning we took Mom to the cemetery so she could put out the Easter flowers. With all the windy days we had this winter, a lot of the Christmas flowers had blown out of the vases....but they were all still nearby. The small flag on my Dad's grave........well, we don't know where the flag is. The bare dowel was still standing, but there wasn't a shred of fabric left on it. But it seems like Ebenezer Cemetery is always windy.

At noon the Class of 1970 had a small get-together at Pizza Hut. We joined them and had a good time visiting. Hubby and I left at 1:30 and headed home, and I'm not sure how long the rest of them stayed. Hubby enjoyed hearing all the tales of elementary and high school. Sunday morning we went to a small country church with some friends. Since I was raised in a small country church, I always enjoy that.

Our little brick country church is still pretty. It's red brick with white trim. It was always fun as a kid to be chosen to ring the bell to signal the start of Sunday School. Even though it sat in an unincorporated little settlement, there were a lot who lived within walking distance. When I was a kid, the church was always full. There were tons of kids, which is why Mom opted to attend there instead of the church that was closer to our farm. We had lots of families of four and five kids, and one who had eleven. We had kids who went to school at Bogard and kids to attended Norborne. So is was a nice cross culture, a way to know more people than just those I went to school with.

It wasn't unusual in those days for us to have anywhere from 50 to 70 on any given Sunday, thanks to those big families. As the kids grew up and married, most of them moved away. The attendance started sliding downward. And as the church population started getting older, the attendance slid even more. Eventually, they had around five regularly attending. But as such things go, they've had a rebound of sorts. I'm not sure how many go there now on a regular basis, but they have picked up to more than five. The two churches left in the area are so small that they are pastored by a lay minister. They have church services two Sundays a month, and just Sunday School on the others – just as they did when I was a kid. Attendance is higher on those Sundays when they have preaching.

Last summer hubby and I took Mom out for services when they had a big anniversary. The church was full on that day, and I saw people I hadn't seen in years. It was fun. There are so many memories wrapped up in that little brick building. All the years of Sunday School. Mom leading the singing and letting my good friend and me occasionally pick out hymns. Playing the piano for church the first time when I was 13. Christmas programs. Vacation Bible School and its program on Friday night with singing, Bible verse recitation, and refreshments while we showed off our art projects. On Easter Sunday we would have sunrise services, then breakfast and an Easter egg hunt.

As I got older, we had lots of fun with youth group. We often played volleyball outside before our meetings. One time I remember a really fun scavenger hunt – my team was beat by the other team when one of them had the good sense to pick up a rock and present it as “the oldest item you can find”. There was no arguing with that! Our youth leader was a good musician, and she taught us to sing parts and we did a lot of special music.

It's such a pretty little church, and I always think of it when I hear the hymn “Church in the Wildwood”. At least it has indoor plumbing now.

Writing

Another gorgeous day. Hubby and I just came in from sitting on the patio. Our apartment building is a U-shaped with a patio in the middle. There are some small benches and a table with four chairs down there. It's a wonderful place to sit outside and read. We enjoyed it for about an hour before my flip-flop adorned feet got chilly!

I finally made myself sit at the computer long enough to write a paper for my current online class. Sometimes it's a little hard to motivate myself when I don't have to. Hopefully the paper won't sound like I waited until 20 hours before the deadline to write it. It just took awhile to sort my thoughts out and make things cohesive. Is anyone buying that?

I love to write......but I've always hated writing papers. I'm not sure why. I envy people who can take a subject and write a 10- or 20-page paper for a class. I can't do that. I know what I know and put it on paper and that's it. Expounding doesn't come easy to me, and I end up with a lot of gibberish “filler words”.

But if you give me a topic and tell me to write a story, I'm your gal. As long as it's a short story. Again – I don't play well with expounding. I've had people comment that I should try to write a novel. I wish I could. But developing a storyline just doesn't seem to live in any part of my brain. I've occasionally heard mystery writers comment that they didn't know who their killer was until the final two or three chapters of the book. But I never quite bought into that – after all, how could they set up the story without knowing who's guilty and where they needed to drop crumbs of clues?

I really enjoyed working on the school newspaper my last couple of years of high school. It was creative. I would have enjoyed working on the student paper in college, but that never worked out. My freshman year I went so far as to talk with the journalism instructor about taking a journalism class (with hopes I could work on the paper). Most of her classes were designed for journalism majors only, including the one I wanted to take. Somehow, I managed to convince her to let me take the class.

Imagine my disappointment when it came time to sign up for the next semester's classes and I discovered that one of my required courses was held at the same time as that journalism class. I had no choice but to go back to the instructor and apologize to her. I don't remember her as being very gracious about it.

I know there's an adage about old dogs and new tricks. But at this point of my life, I'm not really sure that I will figure out this thing of writing good class papers. And it doesn't really matter in the big scheme of things anyway. As long as I can continue to write my blog and entertain myself – and hopefully others – I'm good.

Fishing

Today has been just about as beautiful as yesterday. The temp is a comfortable 71, and the breeze shifted a little in the early afternoon and is coming through our north-facing windows quite nicely. It's been a little overcast – but I can handle a few clouds as long as it's warm.

After my resolve to be a little more productive today, my day started with a few small hiccups in the earlier morning hours. But we ended up back on schedule by 9:30. We took advantage of a few sales at the grocery store and enjoyed a brunch from their deli counter when we got back home – they had a container of an egg scramble left as well as one of biscuits and gravy. We grabbed them up and enjoyed them as soon as we got home. I spent my extra morning time catching up on the ironing I've been putting off. The pile grew a bit this morning as I looked for a blouse to wear – they've all been crammed in the closet over the winter, so I pulled out a few of them to press so I can wear them when I want.

I spent a little over an hour this afternoon reading and researching online for a paper I need to write for my current online class. It's started – now I just need to back up my thoughts with facts from class and get it polished........in a day and a half. Like I said earlier this week – I'm suffering from spring fever! If I don't get it turned in, I won't get a certificate for completing the class. That's not the end of the world – it's not like it's for a grade, and since the classes are free I won't feel like I'm squandering money. But I would like to finish and get the certificate.

When I was a kid, I always enjoyed Grandpa coming home to spend a few days with us. He just lived in Bogard, and we saw him every weekend. But it was fun to have him 24/7. And it gave Mom and Dad a break, since I would spend all my time with him. We walked around the farm and talked, he watched me play, and he would help Dad with the chores. Once in awhile, he would decide we should go fishing.

It was always spur of the moment, so we would have to figure out something to use for bait. I remember a time or two in late summer when we caught grasshoppers. I don't remember what else we might have used. I had a cane pole, and Grandpa would grab Dad's. We walked up the road and over the hill, then about a third of the way down the other side we would climb the fence to our neighbor's pond. The pond wasn't far from the road. We would fish for what seemed to me like a long time, then reverse our trail back home. I don't remember that we ever caught any fish – but the neighbor who owned the pond said there were fish there. And since she was Mom's cousin and as honest as the day was long, I never doubted that.

I kind of envied the neighbors who had ponds stocked with fish. We had a pond, but there were no fish in it. It was for the cows. Even more, I envied the ones with ponds who would decide to grab a pole and catch a mess of fish for supper. Really? You could just decide to go catch fish and it would happen?

My fishing experience as a kid was pretty limited – mainly that one neighborhood pond. Once or twice a year Dad would take a day and go fish on Grand River. Fishing didn't mean that he would catch anything, though. One year he and Grandpa took me with them. I think I did catch three fish, but it was a very long day. That was probably why I never got invited back!

After I was grown and spending some years traversing the country, my cousin bought our farm from my folks. He had a wonderful pond put in, and he stocked it with fish. I always had a standing invitation to use the pond, and I've put in a lot of memorable hours there. They were usually productive hours, too. When the grandsons were 8, we took them fishing. At the end, when we were worn out, hubby pulled in a very large catfish – it was too heavy for the boys, so I held the fish while hubby took photos. Then he let it loose. We had a good laugh when those boys looked at each other and then turned as one unit to go grab their poles from the truck to try to catch that fish again.

Relaxing

It's been a lazy spring day – and I don't think I exaggerate by using the term “lazy”........I haven't done anything productive today. The surprising thing is that I'm perfectly okay with that.

I really intended to do a few things this morning. Instead, we went out for a drive and ended up at the local store. We found hubby some socks on clearance, a couple of t-shirts on sale.....and I found some Lindor truffles on the clearance rack. I guess you could call that productive.

I didn't make lunch, either. We cleaned up leftovers. I walked up to the beauty shop and got a haircut. Then we ended up going through the drive-thru and sitting at the park while hubby had a sandwich. The outside walking trail was getting good use today, including what looked like a girls' P.E. class from the high school.

When we got home some friends were standing outside enjoying the sunshine. We joined them and then went to their apartment for a short visit. So now the afternoon's almost over, I'm just now getting to my blog, and everything else I'd planned to do today still needs to be done. That gives me a head start on my planning for tomorrow!

The funny thing is that I don't feel guilty at just enjoying the day. Strange. I think as I get older, I'm more comfortable in my own skin. I feel okay doing what I enjoy and not worrying what other people think. Most likely I'll over achieve tomorrow and catch up on the things I didn't get done today.

I think it's good to know the world won't come to an end just because I didn't do the ironing today. My mother-in-law, who's a very dear person, always tells my hubby to make sure I take care of myself and have what she calls “me time”. That's a concept I've been trying to embrace for quite some time. Embracing is one thing......implementing it is quite another.

I was raised to work hard and do whatever needs doing. As an adult, I worked hard raising a family and doing all the things necessary to accomplish that. The majority of the time I was also working outside the home. Even after the kids were grown, I worked hard at making and taking care of a home while also working full time. Once in awhile I'd get to the point I had to step back and take some time for myself. But it wasn't part of my normal routine.

For the past several years I've tried to make sure I take a little time for just me now and then. I highly recommend everyone figure out a way to do that and enjoy it. Sometimes I still feel a little guilty – after all, I was carefully raised to not be selfish. But giving myself a little time to do something I want to do really helps me stay on a more even keel. And occasionally treating myself to something I don't need but want accomplishes the same thing. It does a body good to take some time to recharge once in awhile.

Tomorrow promises to be another beautiful day. But I think it will be a day to get some chores accomplished.

Spring At School

I'm having what I can only describe as a case of Spring Fever today. I've done plenty of chores around the apartment, including putting fresh sheets on the bed and doing two loads of laundry. I just haven't felt motivated to do anything. I even let Hubby do his afternoon walk by himself instead of joining him.

The temperature has been a little cooler today, and the sunshine has only been sporadic. We even had a brief sprinkle this morning. And I've had the sense all day that I could be perfectly happy curling up with a book.

I remember a lot of days of spring fever growing up. I think it would hit everyone about the same time of the school year. As the days lengthened out and our surroundings woke up from winter, I don't think I was the only one who started thinking there had just been enough of the school year. It seemed like we started school in the late summer, and it was a race from one event to the other throughout the year.

By the beginning of April, competitive sports were on the downhill slide. There were still track meets, but there didn't seem to be as many of those in comparison with softball and basketball. And there were several years we didn't have a girls' track team. State Music Contest would still be looming, and maybe District contest early in April. But the endless practices were winding down.

If I were really ambitious, I would dig out the box with my school yearbooks to remind myself when the Junior-Senior play was held – I can't remember if that was March or April. It took several evenings of rehearsals to get that performance nailed down. We didn't have prom, but there was one final high school dance to honor the graduating seniors. And the Home Ec classes had their annual Fashion Show.

If you were a senior, there was the Senior Trip to look forward to and plan for, as well as baccalaureate and commencement. If you weren't a senior, there was a lot of rehearsal for those two events. There was also a lot of rehearsal going on for the annual Last Day of School program. No wonder we were all hit with Spring Fever!

I remember the strange feeling my senior year when graduation was over and I had to keep going to school (daily, I think) to rehearse with different groups for the Last Day of School. Such is the down side of being the pianist for both glee clubs and various small groups. I was fortunate that we were living next door to the school then. At least it was simple to run over at rehearsal time! But it really did feel different that week between graduation and the program.

The juniors always looking forward to that last week and a half of school, too – once the seniors left for their Trip, the juniors were, at long last, at the top of the school ladder! I remember what a heady feeling that was when we were juniors. We had one year left to leave our mark on the school.

I'm not sure there was a school year that ended without some sort of water pistol skirmish on the playground. The occasional water pistol was confiscated before or after school – no one dared bring them out during recess. And the really big day for water pistol wars was after the Last Day of School Program, after the always scrumptious carry-in lunch, while the grown-ups were either visiting in the gym or watching the active squad vs. alum softball games. They occasionally got out of hand, but they were generally enjoyed as a true sign summer break had arrived.

Paving Paradise

What an absolutely gorgeous day – it's 70 outside, sunny, and a light breeze blowing. The daffodils are blooming, and we saw our first blossoming forsythia yesterday. The tulip tree just outside our building is fully budded. We were happy that yesterday's weather was pretty close to what we have today....it warmed up more than predicted. We had a few clouds, but no threat of rain. It was a pretty good day for our auction.

Neither of us ever had an auction before, so we really didn't know what to expect. We were surprised to head to the house half an hour before start time and see quite a few cars lining the street. It was a little hard for me to watch the house sell. Other than the farmhouse I grew up in, this house had been the only place I've lived that I could call home – not only in how it felt, but also in ownership. But, it did sell – more than likely it's going to be torn down and made into a parking lot. Which is why I can't get Joni Mitchell's “Big Yellow Taxi” out of my head..........you know the song......”they paved paradise and put in a parking lot”!

We didn't think we had a lot of stuff to sell, until we saw it spread out across the lawn (both front and back), in the driveway and through the carport. There were also appliances, area rugs and the piano in the house. And in a testament to our auctioneer, everything sold except the sofa. It was sitting in a sad shape on three legs. Hubby and I hadn't been able to carry it to the trash pick-up, so it was still in the living room. We didn't care, we would have been much more surprised if someone had bought it.

When the sale ended, people carrying their prizes to their vehicles reminded me of watching a hill of ants working. Pickups backed up as close as they could get on both sides of the auction trailer. As I watched the stuff being carted off, I did a double take and started laughing. Mom asked me what was funny and I told her – hubby and I had forgot to run back to the house last week and put the rest of our trash out........and the auctioneer had sold it!

My laughing was caused by seeing someone carry off a small totes container that I had kept under the bed.....and it was full of the old shoes I intended to throw out with the container. Someone bought the two rusty TV trays, we saw the old hula hoop (that the grandkids never use) go out. And some unsuspecting person bought our trash cans with the last of our trash in them! I think most of the cans were empty, but there was one that probably looked like a treasure trove of “stuff” with a straw hat and a couple of other items on top. Little did they know they would find an actual bag of trash in the bottom.

My cousin was there and bought an old wash tub for her niece, who collects them. When I realized what she had, I told her there was a second one in the back yard and she might as well take it as well. So she left through the back yard, pulled up the partially sunk washtub that I had planted flowers in, and took it for her niece. Who knew you could find a two-for-the-price-of-one sale at an auction.

When the auction was over, we finished signing all the papers on the house. We gathered up Mom and went to Dari Maid to relax and refresh. It was nice to just sit there and chat for awhile. And now it's almost done. In one month the title search will be over and we'll exchange our keys for a check.

And with that, another chapter begins in the book of our life.