Way To Go, Brown!

One of the evening network news shows tonight had a segment about the most inspiring gentleman. I will get some of the details slightly incorrect, but the gist will be accurate.

This man, in his mid-eighties, just retired as a UPS driver. He's driven over two million miles and worked for UPS for over forty years in Detroit, Michigan. When he began with UPS, he earned ninety five cents an hour! I believe the story said that over the years he has missed just one day of work. He and his wife have been married for sixty two years and they don't show any signs of slowing down. Film footage of this darling man showed him hoisting himself up into the truck with his arms and it wasn't a short distance. He was workin' it, as the kids would say.

Usually the evening news is filled with pathos, chaos, anger, terror, violence, and horrific acts of human cruelty or selfishness. This was uplifting and made me smile, inside and out.
I'll never meet this individual and he'll never read this but I salute him from afar.

I hope I can be just like him when I grow up! Way to go, Brown!

Ancora imparo

Busted

I know I've blogged frequently, as of late, about grandchildren and grandparenting. This is because these are subjects near and dear to my heart, they've been front and center in my consciousness lately, and these topics are great fodder for posting material.

TLV and LS (Lil'Sis) were guests at our hacienda this weekend, along with their parents, of course. SO and I had some stretches of time where we had the GKs to ourselves, which was great fun. We got to read lots of books, watch a movie and eat popcorn, play with flashlights in dark rooms, lay on a quilt on the floor and make a baby smile and coo, talk like Elmo, eat cookies and hot dogs..........the list could go on and on!

As a grandparent, I try to be conscientious about following the family rules that have been established by TLV and LS's parents. After all, I do want to be asked 'back' as a babysitter! I even follow the rules when their parents are not watching.

But, and, yes, there is a but.........today the devil possessed my soul and I broke with procedure. Not only did I break with procedure but I tried to be sneaky about it, which probably wasn't the best example I could have set with TLV, but what the heck......he's only three and it involved a cookie! If ever a case could be made for an exception, this was it.

I thought I'd set up the perfect crime scene. TLV's parents were SUPPOSED to be busy getting ready to depart. Mother was SUPPOSED to have to feed LS, Father was SUPPOSED to be busy packing and Grandpa was SUPPOSED to be distracted with his new phone. TLV asked for milk to drink after our walk to the park. I thought this was a fine idea, but whoever heard of drinking milk without eating a cookie? Certainly not in my home! I dutifully got the milk for him then motioned for him to sit on the floor in the kitchen in a spot that I was confident would be out of the way from prying eyes. I found half of a monster cookie and handed it to him, whispering for him to quietly enjoy the cookie, which he then loudly pronounced tasted really good. A few seconds into our cookie caper, Mother out of the bedroom with LS, looked about and asked where TLV was. He answered, "Right here".

Busted.

Soon his father came up from the lower level, looked about and asked where TLV was. I kept trying to stand between TLV's hidden spot and the opening to the kitchen area, but it didn't work.

Busted again.

Finally, Grandpa came up from the lower level, looked about and asked, what else? "Where is TLV?"

Busted yet a third time.

I remain unapologetic, since my infraction involved milk and a cookie. The cookie had oatmeal and raisins in it. Doesn't that qualify as nutritious?

Ancora imparo

Grandchild Lobbyism

With the passing of Senator Kennedy, much talk abounds regarding who will carry the health-care reform torch. It does appear that bi-partisanship is but a pipe dream concerning this important national issue and that some other form of mediation will be needed in order to achieve any workable and widely-acceptable solution.

I believe that our nation has overlooked a tremendous influence group - one that far surpasses the most powerful lobby Washington D.C. has to offer..................

Grandchildren

Imagine the scenario if every politician's grandchild looked into Grandpa's or Grandma's eyes, their own eyes downcast, coupled with a slightly forlorn facial expression and with a hint of vocal pathos, said, "Grandma/pa, could you please play nicely with the other politicians and help Mommy and Daddy get health insurance so all of us can be healthy?" Why, Washington D.C. pols would be stepping all over each other in their rush to support the national health-care reform initiative.

We cannot underestimate the powerful influence grandchildren have upon their grandparents.

Case in point: TLV and his little sister are coming for a short visit, accompanied by their parents. This twenty-four hour stay has inspired me to accomplish culinary feats here-to-fore never imaginable.

Late yesterday afternoon, wanting to have freshly-baked cookies ready for TLV and his parents, I had settled on one type of cookie, until TLV, in a Skype session, asked for red/green cookies. From that moment on, inspiration flowed and finally resulted in a cornucopia of treats, sure to please his palate. He will have scratch blueberry muffins to savor, Monster cookies to devour, and, of course, red/green cookies to munch on. And to think that, initially, I had decided to prepare just ONE kind of cookie.

Let's extrapolate my grandchild-inspired flurry of activity to Capitol Hill. I am certain that grandchildren are the super-weapon of the future and that a request by a grandchild could be the impetus for wide-ranging reforms in many arenas. I am positive that the flinty-eyed, cynical, egotistical, self-serving politicians could be brought to a common solution by simply looking into the eyes of their grandchildren and/or hearing their voices.

It works on me. What do you think?

Come on over. The blueberry muffins are waiting.

Ancora imparo

Up-To-Date

This will absolutely be the silliest posting I've probably written so be patient with my excitement! All I can think about is the song, "Everything's Up To Date In Kansas City", from the musical, "Oklahoma", for that is how I feel.

I got a new cell phone today. I thought I was beyond getting excited about a new cell phone but I found that I am not. You would think that I came home with the latest and greatest in cell technology but that is not the case. I have no smart phone nor blackberry but I do have a full keyboard on which to type text messages and you would think I'd been given the keys to the kingdom.

My former phone was a flip-type phone and the flip-lid style and I never did play nicely together. About once a year I would flip my lid (that is figuratively, not literally) and the hinge would break so this time I declared that I did not want to be able to flip my lid. (My SO will like that!) Recently, my 'old' phone's lid did have a hinge malfunction and for the past month I've been limping along with a floppy lid. I got used to the floppy lid although it was very easy to lose a connection with someone because the lid would just flop shut. Yesterday, however, another piece broke off and the lid not only flopped at will but one side of the hinge came out and was hanging by the other side. Fortunately, a small, well-placed piece of duct tape kept the phone together until my SO and I got to the cell phone store this afternoon. As you can see, it was time for me to get a new cell phone.

My SO didn't exactly rush into buying a new cell phone, either. He'd had his, perhaps five years or longer. He has lots of bells and whistles on his because he can handle bells and whistles. I, on the other hand, will revel in my new phone that allows me to text more quickly and with TWO thumbs. I even got a low-volume texting plan!

I have truly arrived.

Ancora imparo

Still Learning

As you may remember, the signature and title of this blog, Ancora imparo, in Latin literally means still I am learning. That is exactly what happened as a result of the weekly choir rehearsal that I lead and began last night for the season.

This group always teaches me something, most of which is useful, some of which falls under the category of useless-but-terribly-funny. There is no such thing as a boring rehearsal with these dedicated individuals and last night was no exception. Nothing gets past these guys and let it be said that if something did, I'd be disappointed, not to mention worried. Their insight, wit, radar, empathy, skill, humor, wisdom, ability, and intelligence is uncanny and considerable. They keep me on my toes, which is good, considering that I am very vertically challenged.

We were midway into our first number and a voice (it is always a voice out of nowhere) asked if there was a misprint in the text using the word delusive? "Shouldn't it be illusive?", the voice asked. This is not a group where I can feign knowledge so I said, "I don't know what delusive means. I'll look it up."

And, I did.

It turns out that 'delusive' is, indeed, a word. Delusive is connected to a belief or thought as in 'deluding' one's self. Illusive is connected to that which is either visible or tangible (as in illusion) and, thusly, the word 'delusive' was printed correctly in the text - not a misprint.

I learned something today. Who knows what I will learn tomorrow? I do know that if I don't get at my list of things-to-do today, I'll learn tomorrow that I should have accomplished more today.

Ancora imparo

Awwww

All I could say to myself was "Awww", when I saw the picture of TLV that his mom had so kindly sent electronically this morning. For, you see, this is TLV's first day at pre-school. Some may laugh at my waxing sentimental, but this is, indeed, a big deal in his life, as well as his mom's.

I do remember taking my own children to pre-school, although way back then, in the dark ages, it was called nursery school. I recall that, somewhere in my brain, I realized that everything changed from that point on, but, as a young woman, I didn't quite understand how or why.

The progression of change is blessedly slow and almost imperceptible.

When it was my first-born being left at the church where the nursery school was housed, I would have still had a toddler at home with me. Even then, it felt like freedom had finally arrived. My son, the toddler, and I would have probably run errands as if there was no tomorrow, or maybe have had a play date arranged for him, either at our home or he would go to a neighbor's to play. As a young mother, I'm sure I crammed as much into my hours of 'freedom' as I could. Now, if I were to be transported back in time to my child's pre-school age but keep my present chronological age, I'd do absolutely nothing and spend all of the nursery school time just being. But, the real younger mothers do not, as a rule, have the luxury of taking time to just be.

When the second of our two children would have gone to nursery school, the eldest would have been going to kindergarten and so, for a few hours, I'd actually be sans children twice a week. That would have felt as if I'd been given whole days of vacation time. I don't remember what I did during those hours, but I'm positive I ran even more errands and crammed even more events into those precious collective minutes. I know I did not spend more time at home cleaning because that is a pattern that has not changed through the years!

And so,back to TLV and his first day at pre-school:

You have two grandmothers who will be angels on your shoulders, for that is the job of a grandmother......to stand as an invisible angel for any number of grandchildren that she has. I love my job as a grannie. I get to be an angel AND I get the excuse to have to bake cookies because my grandchildren are coming to visit AND because I want the cookies to taste the very best, I must sample what I've baked........AND I get to play like I'm four or five years of age, although this can only be sustained for a short period of time.

Just sign me OGA (that's One Grannie Angel)

Ancora imparo

Shelf-Lives

My family will tell you that there have been a few items in my pantry and kitchen cabinets, over the years, that had shelf-lives waaaay past expired. For a time, it was the source of many a laugh at my expense - good-natured, of course, and family members would exaggeratedly look for the printed expiration dates on cans, bottles, boxes, etc. This shelf-life joke did not extend to refrigerated items, fortunately, and we seldom had to deal with anything to do with the growth of penicillin in the refrigerator.

HOWEVER, much truth is said in jest and, consequently, being highly aware of expiration dates, I was on one of my 'hunts' this morning and found two expired bottles of Djon mustard, which I promptly emptied, rinsed, and disposed of in an environmentally responsible manner. Even though the contents and bottles had been removed, I was left with thoughts on expiration dates............which brought me to the topic of today's posting - naturally: Expiration dates and shelf-lives of inanimate objects, thoughts, organizations, relationships, procedures, principles, concepts, routines, etc.

It seems that most everything has a shelf-life. Appliances and vehicles have planned obsolescence, as do cleaning supplies, prescription medicines and over-the-counter health products. Even the insurance companies have employees called actuaries that track the 'shelf- life' of humans......so why is it not logical to have shelf-lives on organizations, relationships, etc.?

Perhaps it is the spectre of expiration that keeps ideas fresh, routines or procedures infused with new concepts and organizations with rotating members who bring new ways of looking at problems and dilemmas. I know that I have experienced the realization of my own shelf-life in relationships, groups, organizations and, at times, relationships, groups and organizations have recognized the end of my shelf-life with them before I did. The latter, by the way, is very painful. Eye-opening but painful.

If you, the reader, are sensing your 'out date' is approaching with someone or some organization, you should act on it. Life is too short to be spent in activities that do not excite or energize and life is too short to be spent in relationships with people and groups that do not inspire, uplift, and encourage.

In conclusion, though, I'd like to add that there are some people, relationships (like with pets), organizations/groups, and procedures/habits that have shelf-lives with NO expiration dates. It is upon these positive interactions that we all should focus.

I send hugs, good wishes, loyalty, love and thankfulness to all of the positive people, places and things in my life.

Ancora imparo

Plausible Parables

I may be struck down for this statement but I think I am too literal for some of the Biblical parables.

My SO and I were in attendance at an adult Sunday School class this morning where another of the parables was examined, studied, discussed, dissected and discoursed. I added a few thoughts to the flowing commentary but mostly listened with fascination and viewed the DVD segments with amusement and skepticism. My comrades in study were seemingly deeply engrossed and I felt detached and guilty about my skepticism.

The DVD presenter has long and distinguished credentials concerning theology, which I do not have, nor ever will have so my thoughts are most likely childish and churlish. But as I sat and absorbed the DVD as well as the Biblical text itself I was left wondering how all of the conclusions were reached. What I heard was a lot of presupposition about just what the Biblical text meant, with human details added that were not originally present. Where do these 'experts' come up with these conclusions? While I appreciate the gentleman's insights, I found I could not embrace the allegories and suppositions while the plain text was right in front of me.

I pray that the good Lord will forgive my tendency towards over-literalism. I need all the forgiveness I can get!

Ancora imparo

Enforced Kindness

I heard a fascinating interview today of an author of a book about bullying. I think the book's title is You Can't Say Can't and was written by a teacher who implemented a mandatory rule about kindness in her kindergarten classroom. I caught, perhaps, about the last half of the interview but it was nonetheless fascinating.

This past spring I had written about a first-hand experience watching two very young brothers bully my grandson on a playground. Because there was no physical danger to TLV, I did not intervene but did keep a grandmother's eagle eye on the situation, which, to me, was made all the more inexcusable because the brothers' mother was right there, observing the entire interplay. Never once did she verbally reprimand her sons, nor step in to intercede in any way. I've never forgotten the incident and hold the mother one hundred percent responsible for her sons' reprehensible playground behavior. And so this author's interview was all the more meaningful to me because I had witnessed very young bullies at work.

I am still left wondering if bullies are made or born or both. The book's author believes that she implemented a program with procedures that nipped bullying in the bud by enforcing a kindness rule. She offers proof of her rule's success by the story of a young female bully who, years later, would see the author and talk about how she was still kind.

TLV will begin a preschool program very soon and I hope that he will never need to have someone be forced to be kind to him nor will he have to be forced to be kind to another child. I pray that he does not need angel grandmothers to watch over him and protect him from bullies anywhere but the sad fact is that I am confident that he will feel the sting of a bully at sometime in his life.

Here is my challenge to the adults of this world. Let's shape ourselves up.

So much begins with us. Not only does life begin with us but the quality of life depends on us as well. I had a conversation with an elder adult today who no longer attends a monthly social gathering because she was recently verbally insulted to the point of emotional hurt at a past gathering. Is this not adult bullying? How can we expect the children of the world to be kind to one another when the adults cannot mirror the behavior we expect from our youngest members?

I repeat myself: Let's shape ourselves up.

Ancora imparo

Good Things Stored at 30 Degrees

I'm in the process of cleaning my office - I mean really cleaning my office. While I would not describe myself as a pack rat or hoarder, I do admit to the tendency to want everything I might possibly ever need kept close to me so it is convenient to get at. And so, periodically I must take a hard look at what I keep, where I keep it, have I used it in the last twelve months, Have I even touched it in the last six months, etc. Hard questions to ask of one who might need an item at any moment on any given day. After I look at each item, I actually pick it up, dust it and the space beneath it.

As I'm moving about myspace, pun intended, I came across a cardboard box, setting atop other things that I must surely have need of some day. The printing on the side of the box says, "keep refrigerated at thirty degrees F". This statement, of course, took my mind to another place and I began to contemplate just what should be (or would be best) kept at thirty degrees F. There is no indication on the outside of the box what its original contents were so my imagination has been left to its own creative devices to imagine what could have occupied the interior of the box.

Here is a list (surprise, surprise) of what I wish were being kept at thirty degrees F in the box:

Cookie dough
Chocolate chip cookies
Heck, any kind of cookie
Ice cream
Blueberry muffins
Porterhouse steaks
Fillet mignon
Freshly caught bluegill
Freshly caught perch
Pizza
Parmesan-cheese bread sticks

Oh, I had better stop this list before my imagination overcomes my self-control.

Actually, I think I would look better kept at thirty degrees F. The aging process would slow, as would wrinkle production AND I wouldn't have hot flashes.

I'm going to close now and turn down my thermostat........waaaaaay down.

Ancora imparo

What Is Reality?

My title today poses a weighty question that has been brewing in my mind for weeks now. I find that my cynicism is growing at a more rapid rate than I'd like. There was a time when I thought my ever-increasing cynicism was due to my ever-increasing age but now that the cynicism is growing exponentially much faster than my age I think there must be other factors involved.

The list of things that I don't find 'real' any more is becoming so long that it could be the basis for a novel. Everything - including people, people's parts, food, medicines, government, politicians - local and national, all types of media..........where does it end? When will our society stand up and insist that the 'spin' be removed?

Health care reform? Now there is a hornet's nest if I ever saw one. Health care reform is badly needed for many reasons, but I do not believe there is one word coming out of any politician's mouth these days that carries with it a shred of transparency, truth, or reality and that includes the Great Illusionist.

Photographs are altered, 'reality' television shows - now there is an oxymoron - are in abundance, our foods are modified, our animals are modified, our athletes are 'enhanced' - who knows whether or not the world's fastest man is legitimate? How can we ever take what a politician says at face value? Even our churches disinfect what we are told. The politics and power struggles that take place within the walls of 'churchdom' would spin our heads if we really knew.

All too often we humans are not even 'real' with each other. We paste our plastic smiles on when we need them, we nod agreeably and pleasantly when meeting one another, then look right through and past that person, mentally moving on to the next human encounter.

And thus, the question begs asking: "Do we really want to know the truth about anything?" Perhaps the actor, Jack Nicholson, had the right line when his character shouts, "The truth? You can't handle the truth!"

I will look to the hills, from whence cometh my peace, understanding, faith and the truth. I will strive to look up. Not down, or past you or through you. And, I will strive to notice, not just glance.

Ancora imparo

Here It Comes

The approaching storms have been showing their colors all afternoon, gathering stacking clouds along with darkening skies. Now the thunder has begun and my cranky kitty just scurried, no - make that slunk - down the steps to the lower level, where she will cower until the storm has passed. In this case, she may be there for a while as it is predicted that a series of storms will roll through for the next twenty-four hours.

I ran into a former teaching colleague this morning at a well-known big-box store. She was there with her two young children, one of which was quite ill and they were waiting for a prescription to be filled. We chatted a bit and "Ellen", as I'll call her, talked about this day being her last day "out of captivity". Later, as I was driving home, I noticed the roiling skies and I thought about how the oncoming storms were not unlike the approaching school year for this young woman and all of the other teachers who have already or soon will return to their classrooms. For many, these last days will feel like an approaching freight train, one that you know is coming but you are still not quite prepared for. The lucky ones will be bored and ready to tackle the year and still others will find themselves somewhere in the middle. This is a cycle that is as predictable as the changing seasons.

Segue to the present.

Now that the for-real storm has arrived and I can hear the thunder and see the lightning, it is time for me to recognize the importance of shutting down my faithful laptop and unplugging her.

My freight train has arrived.

Ancora imparo

In Good Hands

Today I had lunch with a former student and, I can tell you that, if she is any indication of a future generation, our world is in good hands.

This was/is no surprise to me because this young woman was exceptional when I knew her as a student in middle school grades. It was reaffirming to hear for myself that as a college sophomore, she remains grounded personally, emotionally, and spiritually. Scholastically she has been and remains strong, and she discourses with adults just as easily now as she did when she was in her early teen years.

Her college choice was a careful and deliberate selection of a small university that would allow her the freedom to fully participate in her favorite sport as well as continue to play her instrument, neither of which is her declared major.

Obviously I do not know what the future will bring for this bright, articulate young woman, but I do know that she is in God's hands, by personal choice and by His choice. I left our lunch together affirmed that she is a beacon of promise to our country, its culture and its future and that she is not alone. She spoke freely of the challenge of maintaining goals, ethics, and morals despite the junk that society throws at her and others her age and stage. She spoke of the mask that most humans wear that belies what lies beneath and she spoke of her quest to achieve a socially-acceptable transparency for herself and others.

I am the better person for knowing such a remarkable young woman.

Ancora imparo

If You Think You Won't Like the Answer......

There is a statement that I first heard in the early 1980's: "If you think you won't like the answer, don't ask the question." Now, nearly thirty years later, I still ascribe to its wisdom and fully believe the axiom.

I find that its usefulness appears almost daily - either for me or someone else, as was the case today.

A phone call came from a close friend, one of whose offspring is trying her patience, pushing her buttons, and bringing her to alternating stages of anger and tears on a regular basis. When this friend called today, she was crying, beside herself with extreme thinking, borrowing more trouble than the federal government would prescribe. As she talked and I listened, she was able to calm herself and that is when I reminded her "if you think you won't like the answer, don't ask the question."

Her reply gave me pause. She asked me if I thought she should just live in denial......that by not asking the question, she would never know the answer. In the next breath she decried wanting to know the answer OR not wanting to hear the answer she instinctively knows will be given.

After we ended our call, I took the time to reflect on her question, "Should I just live in denial?" I came to the conclusion that not wanting to know an answer does not equate to denial; that there is absolutely nothing wrong with wanting to protect ourselves from hurt or insult; that each of us has the right to choose to hear (or not hear) the answer to a question when we choose to hear it.

Why would I voluntarily make the choice to hear an answer I do not wish to know?

Makes sense to me. How 'bout you?

Ancora imparo

Alphabet Words

Have you noticed that our language is is evolving into category words rather than spoken or printed specific words?

I'll type a few examples of what I mean and I know you will find instant cognition about what I mean.

The a-word
The b-word
The f-word
The infamous letter word that comes between the letters m and o, which I will not put into print.

Get my drift?

In conversation, all we have to do is utter one of the above 'category' words and everyone instantly understands what we mean. We've said the word without actually verbalizing the word and......voila! We've slipped the word into conversation ostensibly without offending others.

I am proposing a new category of words beginning with the letter h. These category words would rise above the literary chaff and add dignity to our vocabulary.

h words such as:

hope
humility
harmony
helpfulness
haven
health
honesty

I purposefully omitted the words holy and happiness, which, at first blush, might seem logical to include in my category of h words. Holy, for some world religions, has horrendous connotations that to me, are as far from holy as Hades would be considered. Happiness itself might be achieved if my proposed h words were embraced, but happiness is a state of being, not a word with means to an end. Happiness may be a bi-product if I embrace and practice hope, humility, harmony, helpfulness, haven, health, and honesty.

Here is a challenge to the readers of this blog. If you think of other h words that you would add to the list, let me know. More heads are better than one!

Ancora imparo

The Prospector and His Wife: North Channel Finale

We motored into a remote anchorage in the Whalesback Channel of the North Channel, Lake Huron, Canada. The northern shore of our little Shangrila was the Serpent River Indian Reservation. Otherwise we were bounded by numerous tiny islands and granite rock outcroppings, all carved from Ice-Age glaciers, ions ago.

At first, we thought we would be the lone boat but as soon as we rounded a bend, a small, red sailboat came into view. A person could be seen eying us as well, as is common in anchoring situations. After we were secure, Captian SO took off in our dinghy to offer greetings from a fellow boater. I could hear bits and pieces of the conversation and, shortly, the dinghy came putt-putting back to our boat.

The red sailboat was very small and, from all outward appearances, had frequently been 'ridden hard and put away wet'. (Pun intended.) Captain SO reported that the couple appeared to be "over sixty", very friendly, and sort of marooned at the moment. Their old Evinrude motor's pull chord spring had broken, thus leaving them without the means to motor out of the small cove and into any possible wind. They were waiting for a mechanic whose shack was visible on shore but he hadn't been seen in several days.

Later a small fishing boat slid through the cove and stopped to help the couple. After the fishing boat and its occupants went on its way, we dinghyed (my term) back to the red sailboat and the man and woman were still on deck. They raised their arms in a victory pose and cheered, for their motor had been repaired. The man had flowing, white hair, kept in check only by an old, battered and floppy hat set atop his head. His clothes were ragged but his countenance was cheery and upbeat. The woman - assumption made it was his wife - was grey-haired and hat-topped as well. We visited a bit and learned that they hoped to stay at anchor for five more nights. Their appearances truly gave the impression of stepping right out of a California mining camp in the late eighteen hundreds. The only 'thing' missing in this vignette was a mule named Penelope. They used nary a light nor any other item that required electricity or battery power.

To the Prospector and his wife: Safe travels to you wherever you roam. Your faces are forever etched in my memory. Happy water trails to you.

Ancora imparo

Linked and Synced

Upon posting this blog entry, I will have officially passed the two-hundred mark. This was a detail I missed when I posted the two-hundredth entry, a milestone of personal achievement. I remember when I wrote about posting number one hundred and how proud I was that I had been able to summon the internal discipline to write almost every day. Just like the motto of the national mail service, I strive to write regardless of rain, snow, sun, sleet, lack of sleep, house guests, or garbage pick-up day. I threw in the latter, poking fun at myself and how easy it could become to cast aside my goal of daily writing.

Finding topics to muse and chide about is seldom difficult. With the world's information systems being linked and synced to a point of entanglement, in my view, it is almost impossible to live with even minimal contact with the world. Between the internet, television (both network and cable), magazines, newspapers, billboards, cameras and cell phones that are now mini-computers, all of which can be interconnected, one has to really work at ignoring the information highway.

Even our government is working at interconnecting everything under its great umbrella. The National Mall in Washington D.C., which I have written about before, is adding yet another tenant to its list of lease-holders. We have seen this great mall become a used-car lot and now it will open another door to become a clearing house for health insurance. Today's newspaper had an editorial about our struggling US Postal Service and how government intervention may become necessary. Where will the Great Illusionist and his Illusioneers stop?

Hubris is alive and well in our nation's capital, legislature, and Supreme Court system. I just hope and pray that someone doesn't find a way to link and sync us all with hubris. I'm certain that there is a sub-committee, somewhere, charged with the task to do just that.

Ancora imparo

No Sorbay in Gore Bay: North Channel Part Eight

Yes, I know I misspelled sorbet. It is intentional because one of my favorite people in the world, the father of TLV, made a joke about me eating sorbet in Gore Bay. I do not know if you can purchase sorbet in Gore Bay, Manitoulin Island, Ontario, Canada. Perhaps in the small, co-op grocery store but I didn't look because.................

Gore Bay has something much more delicious than sorbet. Even, I think, more delicious than the scrumptious, premium ice cream that is made right on Manitoulin Island. Gore Bay has the world's best (my superlative) frozen yogurt.

The place where you can buy the world's best frozen yogurt is actually a tiny health-foods store in a nondescript building right on a corner of the downtown of Gore Bay, Ontario, population approximately one thousand. Outside the structure is a tri-pod-shaped sign that simply reads: Frozen Yogurt.

What is the big deal here?

The big deal is that in the United States, frozen yogurt is becoming harder to find. Sure, you can purchase it in the frozen section of your favorite supermarket, but the real stuff, the consistency of soft-serve ice cream, seems to be going the way of the woolly mammoth. Twenty years ago there were frozen yogurt franchises everywhere you turned and as numerous as the famous Seattle-based coffee shops that saturated American cities. Not any more.

Instead, you must travel to Gore Bay, Ontario to find the 'real' thing. Gore Bay frozen yogurt is not for the impatient. You will wait for your frozen treasure for several reasons. First, there is always a line of regular folk who also love their frozen yogurt. Secondly, is the way this particular concoction is made. Real slow and real tasty!

We talked with the woman whose job appears to be totally devoted to the production of FY. She explained that the machine she uses is forty-plus years old and is no longer available. ('Twill be a very sad day when the machine stops working.) After prepaying one clerk for your FY, you move along to the FY lady. You have a choice of the fresh fruit flavors of banana, blueberry, peach, peach/mango, strawberry, mixed berry, raspberry, melon combo, and ginger/peach. After you make your fruit selection, she opens a small freezer adjacent to the yogurt machine and lifts out a tray with your fruit choice in it. Taking small tongs, she places the fruit into the machine. She then opens a packet of frozen yogurt, one package per person's order, and adds that into the machine. Finally, she lowers a lever and the magical machine goes to work, producing a product of unimaginable quality and superb taste. You can have your FY in a cup, a traditional cone or a waffle cone. The yogurt is well worth the wait and the cost of traveling to Gore Bay, Manitoulin Island, Ontario, Canada.

I highly recommend the trip!

Ancora imparo

Open Wide

Why is visiting the dentist stress-producing? The people who work there are friendly, efficient, and good at what they do. I don't think there is one rational reason why I find a dental visit stressful.

HOWEVER, I can think of numerous irrational reasons why stress accompanies me to my dentist's office.

For starters, there is the large poster of oral cancer hung right in front of the chair I was in. Big pictures, in full color, of unfortunate orifices that contracted cancer. That is a real relaxant right there. Then there is the thick, plexiglass face-cover that the hygienist wears that looks like something straight out of a sci-fi movie, morphing and twisting the facial features of the person hovering over you. If you need x-rays, you are covered with a heavy, thick shield, weighing about twenty pounds, the purpose of which is to keep you safe. Why, then, does the x-ray technician step out of the room if I am supposed to be safe?

Next comes the cleaning of the teeth. Vigorous scraping is more like it. Your teeth are poked, probed, scraped, flossed, then bathed in a car-wash type process that leaves your facial skin feeling like sand paper. Finally, the dentist makes an appearance to check the hygienist's work, grab your tongue with a white piece of gauze and move it about in contorted positions, all the while asking you questions that require responses.

Finally, if you are unlucky, the dentist will order yet another x-ray and, after studying it carefully, announce that you have a 'tooth du morts' or dead tooth that will require.............root canal. Now there is a real party waiting to happen. Nothing stress-producing in the term 'root canal'.

"Ah, yes, visit the dentist for a morning of fun.", said with ample tongue in cheek.

Ancora imparo

Opening The Blinds: North Channel Part Seven

This day began with rain which was heavy at times and was accompanied by thunder and lightning. Fortunately, there was no wind to speak of so we floated through the morass of weather that Mother Nature threw at us. Consequently, below deck where we 'live' was very dark and dreary and I opened the blinds to somehow connect with the great out-of-doors. This is the first time in five seasons that I have opened all the blinds. They are a pain to close and would be an even greater pain, both logistically and cost-wise to replace so it is better to simply not open them at all. Even though the skies were a dark gray, and the windows are so high that I cannot see anything but the trees atop the bluffs in this harbour, it still felt good to have the ability to see the sky from 'down below'.

Which.......took my mind in a different direction thinking about the concept of looking up, seeing the sky, opening, the blinds of life, etc.

Suppose all humankind stopped looking at the ground and simply looked up? If our eyes remain fixated on the ground we never 'see' each other and our surroundings. By lifting our chins just a bit we could connect with each other in different ways and become aware of joy, sadness, anger, fear, trepidation and many other emotions that we miss by looking downward.

Imagine if we all looked 'up', even if just for moments a day? We would connect with our Maker and Mother Nature and each other.

Awesome.

I'm always telling my choir members to look up. Perhaps I'll take my own advice!

Ancora imparo

A Different Kind of Family: North Channel Part Six

There's a different kind of family in my aqua-transient neighborhood.

This family, which, I think, numbers six in all, spends a lot of time out of their home. The parents are always close by their offspring, but not encroaching on the space of their children. I would say "hovering", but that is exactly what the parents and their babies are doing. Hovering. For this is a family of majestic eagles.

I first noticed the avian activity early this morning when I escaped to the outer deck with my yoga mat. As I was flexing, grimacing, stretching, grimacing, contorting and grimacing even more (Notice I do a lot of grimacing?), I was able to take in my surroundings with my eyes and ears. Since none of the other boats had any visible human activity, it felt as though I had the harbour to myself. The occasional call of a loon punctuated the silence that was otherwise broken only by the constant lap of waves against the hull.

The birds' flight patterns were fascinating to observe as they would glide, dip, soar - all the while seldom, if ever, flapping their wings. Their movements appeared effortless, aided only by the wind buoying them high above the pines.

What was at first only one eagle soon doubled and, for a long time, just a pair could be seen in flight. Perhaps an hour later the two birds disappeared briefly. When they became visible once again, the two had multiplied to a total of six great wingspans aloft. It was as if the parents returned home to awaken the 'teenage' birds who were trying to sleep in a bit. Mesmerized, I sat transfixed and motionless, feeling like a voyeur into their private world in the sky.

Be well, family of eagles. I am humbled and honored to be in your world.

Ancora imparo

Age-Reversal

I am watching age-reversal right before my very eyes.

This takes place twice a year at the residence I share with my SO because two times, in twelve months, he goes on a long fishing trip.

Clomp, clomp, clomp, clomp, clomp. That is the sound that his feet make as they fly up and down the stairs, usually about three to five minutes apart in the clomping. He clomps up the stairs and then roots about in one bin or another. Then he clomps hurriedly down the stairs to retrieve yet one more gadget that he positively cannot live without during the fishing trip. Clomp, clomp, clomp back up the stairs and on to more rummaging. This is the same man who just two days ago declared he felt 'so old'. Now he's moving about the condo at the speed of twenty years of age.

Just a few minutes ago I was peacefully reading a book in my favorite reading chair and he excitedly declared he wanted to show me something. I mean, this guy is truly revved over a five dollar purchase of a day-cooler from a big box store, one red throw-a-way rectangular plastic container that will hold the crawlers for the day, a small, oval-shaped plastic dish that will hold one crawler, a large yogurt container to hold leeches, complete with two lids. One with slits that will allow the precious leeches to breathe and another lid with no slits for when the boat is on the move, thereby possibly sloshing out water. Heaven forbid.

I didn't mean to, but as his demonstration was so animated, I started to laugh and, hard as I might try not to, I laughed harder and harder until tears came to my eyes. I think I hurt his feelings but I was laughing so hard I might have missed a few words. I noted, however, that it did not dampen his enthusiasm.

All that laughing and clomping about sent me immediately to this blog. I just knew this posting topic was waaaaay too good to pass up.

And to think this is occurring in ten other households.

Ancora imparo

Real Isolation.........sort of: North Channel Part Five

I am typing this from the Whalesback Channel, John Island Harbour, North Channel of Lake Huron, Canadian waters. This area is a remote, mostly protected little harbour, so the Canadians spell it. What had been three boats, after we anchored at about 1:00 p.m., EST, has grown to seven and the last boat to anchor has totally missed the concept of 'as far apart as possible', which is why my posting today includes the words 'sort of'.

I just returned to the boat from fishing in our little dinghy with Capt. SO. We remarked several times about how really quite it is here. The only sounds are that of birds, water lapping, an occasional fish jumping and wind whistling through the trees on shore. We find ourselves speaking in hushed tones when we're out like this, not wanting to disturb nature.

Being in a setting such as this, I find that my mind goes to quieter places than normal. It is as if my zen is easier to locate and takes less time to find.

I have already made a list about what tasks need to be accomplished during the three hours that the generator will be on, 'making electricity' and recharging the one giant house battery and two giant starting batteries. I rationalized that this list was necessary and not too stressful to think about accomplishing.

There is a freedom about being 'on the hook', which is boat-speak for being on anchor, that cannot be found while tied to a dock. Curiously though, the seven boats that are here, in this remote area, will now be a tiny community and we will fight with all our collective might to protect ourselves from dive-bombing seagulls, super-efficiently-swimming bears (yes, those do exist in the North Channel), flying fish, carnivourous black flies and Navy Seals that have veered off course.

If any of those threats present themselves, you'll be the first to read about it.

Ancora imparo

Grip On Reality: North Channel Part Four

OK, I've been away from reality far too long. How do I know this? Read on.

We've now spent three nights at the same marina in Gore Bay, Ontario due to weather-related conditions. Do not misunderstand me - I am not complaining. With unsettled weather conditions, heavy rain, wind, thunder and lightning, being connected to a dock is the best place for a boater to be.

HOWEVER, when the weather is inclement and you spend hours at a time indoors, 'below deck', there can be the tendency to go stir crazy. Yesterday, our third day here, passed quite quickly - what with a power walk, three walks to the downtown, a trip to the library to check on email, and a movie to watch onboard last night. I thought I was doing fine........until this morning.

I walked briskly to the platform, greeting individuals along the way with a nod of the head or a cheery 'hello'. Arriving at the steps, I mounted them with grace and ease, then looked out over the dais, speech on the tip of my tongue, ready to deliver...................

Then I realized that I had only traversed the docks, garbage bag in hand, and had walked up the steps to the large garbage receptacle and was simply looking out over the the top of the container. Talk about a crash back to earth in terms of reality! I didn't know if I should laugh at myself or seek out a Canadian psychologist!

My speech is still prepared, although I'll save it for another occasion. For now, I think I'd better go for a brisk 'walk-a-boot'. (I've been in Canada too long.)

Ancora imparo

Unwelcome Visitor!

My SO and I had an uninvited guest last night and she wore out her welcome very quickly.

Mother Nature convincingly exerted her influence yesterday and every person I've spoken with today has mentioned her impressive display. She has her own language, too. She can be soft and subtle, she can be cold as ice, and she can be very noisy and electrifying.

Electrifying she was last night with a fireworks display that was awesome both from a visual and auditory perspective. Her handiwork woke my SO and I from a sound sleep and her tirade continued for well over an hour. As with all of her temper tantrums, it eventually waned and then faded into a blessed silence, although the cranky kitty that lives here remained in seclusion throughout the remainder of the night.

MN (Mother Nature) did leave a calling card, although it was hidden quite creatively. One of the closer lightning strikes, which was accompanied by a great deal of noise, must have come near enough to blow several breakers in our residence. We were unaware of any electrical snafus until, upon rising, we were unable to persuade several seemingly unrelated appliances, lamps, and other small electronic devices to operate. Upon investigation, we discovered that the breakers were thrown. FORTUNATELY, my laptop, which would normally be connected to an outlet that was on a thrown breaker, had been disconnected before I retired for the night. You hopefully only experience having one computer get fried during a storm and, from then on, you ALWAYS unplug your computer if the weather sounds or looks threatening.

As my title for this posting indicates, Mother Nature came a-callin' on her own accord. She won't be on our guest list for the foreseeable future!

Ancora imparo

Land-lubbered: North Channel Part Three

Dear Readers:

As you can read, we are tethered to a dock for yet another day. Tonight's weather forecast is dismal and tomorrow's is worse. Tomorrow's predicts a one-hundred percent chance of rain and wind up to twenty knots. Not ideal for being out 'on the hook'.

Today brings another learning curve on achieving a certain level of patience, serenity and the ability to self-amuse.

The ability to entertain one's self is crucial to one's peace of mind. This is a concept that I have always been aware of but the lesson is being driven home with force, at the moment. Capt. SO is busying himself with chart-reading, chart-making and way-point entries. Besides, I do firmly believe that I am the only person responsible for making me happy.

No one else holds that responsibility. Furthermore, one could rightfully ask me "Just what is your problem?" I'm sitting on a beautiful boat, in a picturesque Canadian setting, on a serene summer's day. I've walked the downtown streets, eaten the freshest-possible homemade frozen yogurt I've ever consumed, and now I'm relaxing within the air-conditioned confines of my boat's interior. Just what is my problem?

That is a good question - one to which I do not have a very satisfactory answer. I guess I'll get out my trusty Ipod and exercise mat. I'll exercise my way to a conclusion!

Ancora imparo

Very Entertaining

I've written quite a bit about entertaining myself in some way or another.

My very sociable father said, after he'd had his stroke and had lost most of his ability to communicate successfully, "It is good that I am fond of my own company." I've never forgotten that sentence that he uttered fairly frequently. I grew to understand Dad's speech patterns because he lived with our family for three months after his stroke. I took him to thrice-weekly speech therapy sessions and worked with him, contrary to his desires, at home, as instructed by his speech therapist.

Dad had it right, though. I do need to be fond of my own company and able to entertain myself. It is not the duty of anyone else on this earth to entertain me, or anyone else, for that matter. Entertaining myself is a life-long quest and activity that will need constant tweaking, appraisal, and attention.

Entertaining others........now that is another matter entirely. Some do it well consistently, some do it well occasionally, and others, well, miss the mark almost one-hundred percent of the time. Even famous entertainers can have 'off' nights or performances, perhaps precipitated by audiences that are 'off'?

Classroom teachers are, perhaps, the most unidentified performers of all. You try leading a classroom full of students at any age. Younger students love almost anything the teacher does but as the age of the student increases, so must the teacher's effort to keep the various stages of mental growth and development engaged. The most challenging to keep engaged? Probably a room full of adults, all of whom have somewhere else they could be, or, depending on the circumstances, would rather be. We adults are the toughest 'audience' of all. We talk when others are talking, we talk over others, we get up and move about at our whim, and we do not hesitate to take cell phone calls any time, any place, regardless of whom we are with.

Which brings me to the idea germ from whence this posting came: What makes a good entertainer?

As often as possible, I walk with my Ipod, finding the music to be highly inspirational when I am chugging up area inclines. Some of my favorite tunes are from live performances by world-famous rock stars, all the way from the 1970's to present day. You can sense the audience's connectivity with the person or group just by hearing the their collective response to queries by the performers. The performer who fascinates me the most is Kylie Minogue, whom I believe is either from Australia or New Zealand. Her live performaces, even on CD, make the listener feel as if she or he is right there, front and center, as the concert enfolds. I don't know how many times I've heard her sing, "I Should Be So Lucky", but, each and every listening experience makes me feel as if she is right in front of me, as if I am there as the moment happened.

I'd like to study her performances. As a leader and teacher of groups, choirs, and bands, much could be learned from a charasmatic performer. Of course, the world has known its fair share of charasmatic 'performers' who led it down terrible paths of tragic destruction and misery, but the world has also known many legendary 'performers' who have inspired, enthused, invigorated and challenged its peoples to move upward, onward, and outward.

Here is my challenge to myself and others: Let us lead each other with kindness, patience, dignity, respect, and skill. We "all should be so lucky."

Ancora imparo

Disconnecting: North Channel Part Two

Being electronically separated from the internet and cable television can be challenging. If the separation occurs due to a vacation, as in my case, the first twenty-four hours or so are relatively painless because there are many different activities and tasks to keep one occupied. The second twenty-four hours may bring slight withdrawal pangs but those can be alleviated by reading a book, which is what I did. I had so many pangs that I read an entire paperback in that time period.

The third day, which is what I am now on, has presented more distinctive reactions. I have my laptop, which has been rendered totally useless as far as internet access. Last night, I had to put the computer into its case so I could not see it. This morning, Capt. SO brought it back out so he could look up a file and it remained in sight on the table. My arms and fingers were strangely drawn toward the keyboard but what purpose would that serve? I proceeded to fill my time with routine galley maintenance tasks, we did some shopping in the quaint downtown of Gore Bay, Ontario and then came back to the boat for a late lunch. It was, at this point, that my mind was desperately grasping for its meaning in life. (I am so dramatic!) Searching for my Zen, I got out my exercise mat and turned to my I-Pod for sanctuary. With the volume turned up and the beat pulsing through my head, I took my body through its badly needed paces in a combination of Yoga, Pilates, and old-fashioned floorwork.

I can feel my electronic disconnection slowly taking place.

It must be five o'clock somewhere in the world............

Ancora imparo

Borrowed Trouble

Borrowing trouble is too easy to do. I surmise that another term for borrowing trouble is worrying and, heaven knows, I am very good at that. But, borrowing trouble seems a bit different to me than worrying. If I borrow trouble, that signifies that I am concerned that something less-than-positive may transpire. If I worry, that signifies that I am concerned that I, or someone I care about, may find themselves in a crisis or dangerous situation. And, i realize that I am splitting hairs with syntax and that the two terms are probably one-in-the-same and interchangable.

HOWEVER, at the moment I am truly borrowing trouble and I'd like to stop the thought process that my mind is generating. I note that I keep trying to distract myself with assorted tasks, mostly in the kitchen. I've made granola, hummus, prepared fish for dinner this evening, roasted almonds, walnuts, and sunflower seeds, emptied the dishwasher, taken care of laundry, read four weeks of a weekly newspaper........the list goes on and on. Why, I've even picked up a dustcloth. Now that is a true attempt at distraction! This works for the short-term, but then my mind keeps returning to the idea that I am borrowing trouble with.

I guess that I am faced with the prospect that I shall simply have to face the situation that I am dreading, open the door, run the flag up the flagpole and see who salutes.......all of those old saws. Still, I know, based on prior experiences, what the gist of this phone call will be like and I am not excited to initiate the call.

But then again, maybe there will be a different outcome from that which I am imagining. Who knows, perhaps in a few moments, I will be laughing at myself and all of my negative ruminations.

I guess I'll ruminate on that for a moment.

Ancora imparo

North Channel Blogging

The regular followers of this blog know that my SO and I recently took our boat into the North Channel of Lake Huron, Canadian waters. Because I had zero, reliable internet service, I typed my postings and saved them in My Documents daily. I will begin to add those to by blog site.

Day One, July 21, 2009

"The Seagull Has Landed"

I hope the pun of this title is not lost on anyone. I felt that, with our arrival in a marina after seven and one half hours of motoring on two Great Lakes AND the commemoration of the first human landing on the moon, this title was appropriate and timely. Whether this blog gets posted tonight is anyone's guess since my air card is working at a speed only slightly faster than the first printing press that utilized chisel and stone.

My impression of this day is that I am very happy to be secured to a dock. We had a safe, uneventful crossing, which, in terms of boating, is exactly what you want to occur. We did, however, have two new experiences while crossing: Navigating our way through hundreds of sailboats on their last leg of the Chicago-to-Mackinac sailboat race AND the head wind on our bow that created four-footers constantly smacking the boat during our last two hours of motoring. After arriving at the marina, I opened the door of our little refrigerator and most everything slid out onto the floor. The boat took a good pounding, as did we.

Our encounter with the Chicago-Mac race, as it is referred to in these parts, was further enhanced by the Kamikaze pilots of the Mackinac Island car ferries that run to and from the mainland as well as the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. Hundreds of sailboats, all tacking this way and that, plus the car ferries kept Capt. SO on high alert.

I will sign off and eat my dinner that is now scrambled from being tossed about in the refrigerator. Strawberries, potatoes, and pork loin shouldn't be too incompatible mixed up. Besides, it all ends up in the same place, anyway.

Ancora imparo

The Eighth Heaven

My mind doesn't need much encouragement to travel to out-of-the-way places and it happened this morning......already!

I heard the words "seventh heaven", as in, "I'm in seventh heaven!" and I began to imagine just what would be in my 'eighth heaven'. Since this is a term that I have never heard of or seen in print before, I decided I could put whatever or whomever I wanted in my personal 'eighth heaven'.

As you know, I love lists, so here is my current list of what or whom would be in my 'eighth heaven':

My beloved, departed dog, Max
My deceased friend, Kathy
My @#$* kitty, Frances, because I am her only friend
Charles Swindol, theologian and pastor
My family, of course
Frozen yogurt
Good coffee
A primo coffee maker
A red, S-40 Volvo
Oskar, the black lab that we rescued
My long-ago cat, Duke
Intermittent deliveries of Godiva chocolate
A good Reisling
A daily newspaper delivery
A good chiropractor
A good window-washer
Some good friends
A dictionary
The world's best pipe organ
My Bible
Johannes Brahms
Charles Hindemith
Peter I. Tchaikovsky
Enya

There is one item you will never find in my new 'eighth heaven': Cat litter or a cat box. My kitties would have to find their own solutions.

There you have my current list of what and whom would go in my 'eighth heaven'.

Think about what you would put in yours!

Ancora imparo

Good News Bytes

I thought I would share some good news 'bytes' with all of you.

• Being in a small space for a protracted amount of time makes you thankful for your home.
• God is good and, this week, demonstrated twice to me that He does answer prayers.
• It is soooooo much easier to do laundry in my home than anywhere else.
• I was able to talk to both of my children today.
• My grandchildren are healthy.
• My refrigerator isn't inadequate after all.
• God provided time for my SO and I to get to know two people better this past week.
  
• My cat was so happy to see me that she didn't try to bite me when I brushed her today.
• My one outdoor plant survived our three-plus week absence.
• My two indoor plants survived, too.
• Nothing in the refrigerator spoiled.
• We never lost power so all is well with the freezer contents.
• My newspaper delivery resumes tomorrow!
• It was so dry outdoors that hardly any weeds grew in my absence.
• I never fell out of the kayak.
• Washington D.C.,the Great Illusionist and his cronies gave me new food for fodder during July.

It is good to be home.

Ancora imparo

The Long Ride Home

Do you like long car/vehicle trips?

I used to, when I was a wee bit younger. I always imagined that our vehicle would be one of those that stopped when something interesting came into view, such as a tourist attraction or a restaurant or an antique store..........but we never did. However, the possibility that we might was a carrot that dangled before my imagination and kept me motivated to ride and ride and ride.

I suppose that I shouldn't have been surprised that, as an adult, my vehicle experience would be any different than when I was a child. My dad would never stop, either. I guess I was born and doomed to be in a car that only moves from point A to point B. Heaven forbid that there should be an A.5.

Soon, my SO and I will fold ourselves into our car and spend about six hours traveling homeward bound. We pass our time with conversation or listening to a book on CD. We stop for 'necessary' breaks and coffee purchases. When we are fortunate, the two occur at the same location, thereby cutting down on the time-per-stop issue.

Sometimes, long rides can be good fodder for thinking and pondering the meaning of life. After all, what else is there to do when you are a prisoner in a rectangle with four wheels?

What else is there to do when you are a prisoner in a rectangle with four wheels?

Why, make lists, of course!

Extended car rides are the perfect breeding ground for detailed lists about absolutely everything. Concerts can be planned, entire menus for dinner parties can be organized. Some individuals knit or crochet whilst they ride, others sleep or read books. Today's youngsters spend their 'riding time' on their cells or texting each other. Twittering helps the miles go faster, so I'm told.

I will appreciate my long ride home because when I arrive at home, the washing machine will get a workout, the cat will need lots of attention, the car needs to be unloaded, and the vacuum sweeper will hum. Then I'll wish I was back in the car!

Happy trails to all of you.

Ancora imparo

The Things I Learn

So, you can teach an old dog a new trick or two!

After all these years, not I might add, leading a particularly sheltered life, I learned about jello shots last night. How I ever got to this age and never heard of this alcoholic treat is beyond me but that is the way it is.

Who knew that jello, the beloved treat of children and adults everywhere, could be turned into head-back, neck-tipping concoctions poured into everything from shot glasses to bathroom-sized paper cups. Why, I learned that people actually go to food-type warehouse stores and buy those small, styrofoam cups that come with lids, in packages of two hundred. Now that is a lot of jello shots!

Once I heard about this beverage-hiding-in-flavored-gelatin phenomenon, I went to an online search engine and discovered hundreds of hits. You can find recipe after recipe, along with videos that demonstrate how to make them. One enterprising website has gone so far as to list what liquors go the best with each jello flavor. There are pictures galore showcasing the rainbow of colors that can be achieved with jello shots.

Who knew?

I'll most definitely sleep better now.

Ancora imparo

More Alike Than Not

There are some realizations in life that shouldn't be. Commonalities between humans, genders, ages, etc. that bind us all in one way or another. Commonalities that may come, initially, as a surprise, but when we have the time to ponder the interaction we conclude that we knew 'this' already.

Now that I am a grandparent - grandmother to be specific, I have discovered, in many conversations, that we grannies, for the most part, are all the same. Softies, you might say, when it comes to our grandchildren. We all melt when we see our grandchildren, become reluctant to let them out of our hug, and, get 'blue' when they (or we) leave.

On my walk this morning, I had the pleasure of conversing with a woman that I see infrequently, but always have an instant connection with. Today, during part of our twenty-minute-or-so chat, she mentioned her three-year old grandchild. Since I,too, have a three-year old grandchild, you can guess where the conversation went. We were each giggling after we revealed that both of us get 'blue' when the grandchild (or children) leaves. And, we each work through our 'blueness' by cleaning and cleaning, and then cleaning some more. Having identified that commonality, an instant bond was formed and will be a bond present every time we chat in the future.

We grannies are more alike than not. I love being a granny.

Ancora imparo

What's Your Lemonade?

You know the old 'saw', making lemonade out of lemons? Taking something less-than-perfect and making it into something delicious or desirable.........

I was sprinkling raisins into my oatmeal recently and my mind suddenly went to the life-altering question: Are raisins the chocolate ice cream of the grape industry?

Being married to a food scientist/engineer, I've long been aware that nearly every food processing segment has their own 'chocolate ice cream'. To the dairy industry, chocolate ice cream is to ice cream as relish is to the pickle-processing industry. All of you chocolate ice cream lovers can sit back down after rising up in protest to my comment.......I did not say that chocolate ice cream is a 'second' in any way. It is, however, the ice cream that is made, primarily, from 'leftovers', if you will. Just the way that pickle relish is made from all of the pickles that were substandard in terms of size, shape or fracturing.

The lowly hot dog is the chocolate ice cream of the meat packing industry and so is that marvelous gelled meat that comes in a rectangular-shaped can that actually is the basis for an annual sculpturing contest. The cereal industry probably has their version of chocolate ice cream but I am not aware of what it is.

And so, I repeat my question: Are raisins the chocolate ice cream of the grape industry? My inquiring mind wants to know. If you tell me, I promise not to let it affect my impression of the sun-plumped raisin, formerly known as a grape.

Is there a chocolate ice cream in your life? What is your lemonade?

Ancora imparo

Majic Star, Hats Off To You

This posting goes out to a sailboat named "Majic Star" out of Detroit, Michigan. I'm sure the owners/occupants of the Majic Star will never read this posting, but I'm writing it just the same.

The Majic Star was next to our boat at the DeTour Village public marina recently. What caught my eye, at first, were the five bicycles on her deck, two of which were children's bikes. Shortly after the boat docked, in the rain, two 'youngish' children appeared on deck with PFDs and later rain slickers and umbrellas, clearly having fun. When the rain stopped, an adult male, perhaps the dad (?) had the kids help him 'swab the deck'. All three appeared to be having a good time.

I'd like to take this opportunity to praise whomever the adults were with the children on the Majic Star. I remember when our children were younger and we would pile all of our gear into a mini van as well as fill up a seventeen foot fishing boat, and have bicycles on a bike rack on the back of the van. Family camping is a wondrous thing but, still, a lot of work in terms of bringing everyone's 'fun stuff' plus all of those 'things' deemed as necessary. For theadults reading this, you know what I mean. When we were children, we could not wait until our family trip occurred. Now as adults, we understand what has to take place in order to make the vacation or trip happen.

Back to the Majic Star.

I am not a sailboater - I am one of those boaters that most sailboaters deride - but I do respect the sailors for one basic reason.......it is a lot of work to sail. If you look closely at a sailboat, there is just a lot of 'stuff' to handle, manage, move, wrangle with, etc. There are lines everywhere and where there isn't a line, there is something big and bulky to deal with that probably has a line attached to it somewhere. So, not only was the Majic Star a sailboat but it was a sailboat on a vacation with a family on it. Imagine the memories that those children will have as adults and imagine what life skills they will learn because some adult took the time to take the time to help make those memories.

I salute all parents who are working hard, not only in the world, but working at helping make memories for their children, who may, in turn, help make memories for their children.

And so it goes.

Ancora imparo