Posted in Uncategorized

Favorite Quotes

  • A perfect parent is a person with excellent child-rearing theories and no actual children. ~ Dave Barry
  • There’s nothing so tragic as seeing a family pulled apart by something as simple as a pack of wolves. ~ Jack Handey
  • To the world you may be one person, but to one person you may be the world. ~ Unknown
  • Beware of running with scissors and other pointy objects. It’s all good fun until someone loses an eye. ~ Jack Handey
  • Remember, Ginger Rogers did everything Fred Astaire did, but she did it backwards and in high heels. ~ Faith Whittlesey
  • The loneliest woman in the world is a woman without a close woman friend. ~ George Santayana
  • For two people in a marriage to live together day after day is unquestionably the one miracle the Vatican has overlooked. ~ Bill Cosby
  • Laughter rises out of tragedy, when you need it the most, and rewards you for your courage. ~ Erma Bombeck
  • It takes a village to raise a child. ~ Unknown
  • Suppose you were an idiot; and suppose you were a member of Congress. But I repeat myself. ~ Mark Twain
  • People will forget what you say. People will forget what you do. But people will never forget how you made them feel. ~ Unknown
  • It is better to keep your mouth closed and let people think you are a fool than to open it and remove all doubt. ~ Mark Twain
  • My second favorite household chore is ironing. My first being hitting my head on the top bunk until I faint. ~ Erma Bombeck
  • If you can’t be a good example, then you’ll just have to be a horrible warning. ~Catherine Aird
  • The man who does not read good books has no advantage over the man who can’t read them. ~Mark Twain
  • Life is difficult. This is a great truth; one of the greatest truths. It is a great truth because once we truly see this truth, we transcend it. Once we truly know that life is difficult – once we truly understand and accept it – then life is no longer difficult. Because once it is accepted, the fact that life is difficult no longer matters. ~ M Scott Peck
  • Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away. ~Unknown
Posted in Uncategorized

I’m a swinger.

By Robert Louis Stevenson

When was the last time you had time to even think about swinging? Time, in my world, is a thing of the past. “Time” is the answer to the Jeopardy question, “What is there never enough of?” or “Where did it go?” or “What is the thing you miss most about your youth?”

Okay. Perhaps “time” isn’t the answer to that last one, but it gets an honorable mention.

My last post here was in January of this year. It’s October now. We just had our final great ‘blast-o’-summer” last week with our screwy Michigan weather making me more convinced than ever that I was NOT meant to live in warmer climes. Especially now.

Why especially now? Because now I’m going through that wonderful time in my life called “change.” I don’t mean “change” in terms of my kids no longer needing me. (Don’t they always need something?) And when I think of “change” it’s not in terms of retiring from my sedentary job as a court reporter to open my own yarn shop where I live six out of seven days a week; I see that as more of a metamorphosis of lifestyle for me. No; for me right now “change” means my 50+ year-old body has betrayed me, pure and simple. It’s not the one I grew up with. It now has a built-in furnace with a broken thermometer. It has sweat glands where I never knew sweat glands were. It stopped making brown hair and eyebrows. It places red spider veins on my chin and little patches of itchy exzema on places like my fingers or my calves. What’s with that?

Daily I’ve been trying to think of positive things to get me up and going, such as I only have to shave the very front of my legs now, and not all that often, either. I’m learning fashion by having to dress in layers — summer layers under winter layers. I spend much less time looking at my reflection. I no longer care if it looks cool to wear sandals in the winter. I’m collecting lots of cute little hand fans that say things like, “Is it just me or is it hot in here?” Red and purple are part of my wardrobe. I’ve gotten past the irritable stage and have arrived at apathy; no one listens anyway.

“Grateful” doesn’t even begin to describe what I feel to my parents for my sense of humor, one of the single things that gets me through my busier-than-ever days. Honestly, how do people manage this period of life if they take themselves too seriously? This is funny stuff! This particular misery loves company. We’re reassured we’re not losing our minds when we learn other ‘mid-lifers’ are having the same issues. When we hear from those who are on the other side of it, their own stories either encouraging or downright dreadful, we realize they are here to tell us that there is life after 40…and 50…and menopause. I think I’m adjusting, though quite slowly. Now, more than ever, I believe that men will never know how good they have it because they are simply different creatures, as different as cats are from dogs, birds are from fish. That’s fine. They couldn’t handle this stuff anyway.

For now, I’m making every attempt to enjoy the ride. If I discover myself finally on the other side of this “change,” I’ll let you know. In the meantime, there’s a knot tied tightly at the end of my rope, and I’m swinging!

Posted in Uncategorized

No, I didn’t fall off the face of the earth.

All righty, then. Seems I’ve been missed. Hard for me to believe, even if only one person missed me. But you, my loyal reader, have been heard.

It’s Thursday. I know it’s Thursday because I had my ‘BIG NIGHT OUT’ with my fellow Red Hatters at our annual Christmas get-together. What a lovely way to spend an evening. Of course, getting there was a challenge because I had to bring a gift to pass. Seems like that shouldn’t be that big a deal seeing as it is the gift-buying season. So, okay. I had the gift. But before I could leave, I had to wrap it. With a bow. Ever try finding a nice Christmas bow in a Michigan basement? A bow that doesn’t reek of kitty litter and carry extra strings of webbing? Our basement is about five blocks high. Maybe six. It’s maybe 12-foot square, and it holds — get this — our furnace, humidifier, water heater, cat box and bed, leftover paint cans, vintage luggage (I say “vintage” because I can hardly recognize it for the dust), wrapping paper, Easter baskets, and various other sundries covered with dust and webs. Suffice it to say, it ain’t pretty.

But I digress.

Finding a lovely bow turned out to be the easy part. Getting the gift wrapped while trying to give my unplanned guest the hint that I was in a hurry to leave was challenged only by my cell phone ringing quickly followed by my home phone ringing. I was pretty popular around 5:15 this evening. Even my normally aloof cat was rubbing against my leg insisting I feed her yet again this week.

Waving my guest away with the wish for a safe drive, I ran up the stairs to find something “Christmas-y” to wear and put my eyebrows back on. (I won’t even mention the phone call from the gal to whose home I was headed asking me, “Is the party tonight?” She’s in way worse shape than me.) I grabbed my red hat, bounded down the stairs, headed for the door, remembering at the last minute I might want to bring that gift I wrapped. Oh, and my coat. I threw my gift in a bag along with my purse, loaded my arm with three more little bags of things I needed to bring, and then headed again for the door, only to stop short realizing I had to move the wet jeans from the washer to the dryer. Heaven forbid I put down the bags.

Finally getting myself into the car, I remembered my camera, ran back into the house to retrieve it, slammed a couple doors on my way out, and breathed a HUGH sigh of relief that I could DO NOTHING for a couple hours.

More later.

Posted in Uncategorized

Look at this!

Look at this thing!

Not my mom. (Though she does look mahvelous, dudn’t she?)
She’s there for perspective.

I’m talking about these hibiscus…or hibiscii? Whatever.
These are some amazing flowers for here in Michigan!

And before anyone wonders…no, these are not mine.

Well…the mom is.

Posted in Uncategorized

What the heck???

What (might you ask) is this? It’s pretty obvious when you see it in context. (Click HERE to get the whole picture.) This was found after returning from kayaking the Jordan River last Sunday. Can you say “OUCH”?!?

Posted in Uncategorized

Up a river with many paddles!

Last Friday found us on the beautiful Jordan River where a dozen hearty souls enjoyed kayaking and canoeing on one of the hottest days of the year. It may have been in the 90’s, but we were cool and comfortable making our way down the very cold river. Some of the guys went ahead (the boys had to reconnoiter their ambush spots — poor Meg) while we women took our time enjoying the peace and quiet of a wonderful day.

Thanks, Sarah, for arranging such a great afternoon!

Here’s a few “action shots” from our adventure: Album.

Posted in Uncategorized

I’ve found a rut, and I’m staying in it!

Things are quiet in the ol’ town right now. We just finished with Alpenfest, our town’s annual week-long festival. It was hotter ‘n blazes — well into the 90’s and sunny, sunny, sunny. Who’d figure back in the throes of winter we’d all be complaining about the heat a few months down the road. There’s just no pleasing Michiganders.

OS*1 and bride are settling into life as Okie’s. He’s started his new job, she’s busy getting her bidness off the ground, and we’re looking forward to our first visit there come fall. OS2 will start her second job in about a week and then fall classes will begin shortly. We’ll see her next weekend when she comes to march in a parade in support of a friend running for re-election. OS3 is busy busy busy doing — what, I’m not sure. Well, he works, he plays, and he listens to his scanner to keep current on the pulse of this fine metropolis town. The SU* is off flying the unfriendly skies over the Middle East making sure our boys in blue and brown and camo get all the mail we can send. Me — I’m holding down the fort, as it were, cleaning up after bloody cat fights, tripping over a doting dog, and making sure there’s something and someone for everyone to come home to. And I’m NOT leaving my rut.

*SU=Spousal Unit