This and That. Here and There. Now, Sometimes Then.

Closing Up

2011-12-28T01:44:00.000-08:00

It has been over two months since my last post. I have mumbled several times to the husband, "I'm going to stop blogging This and That. Each time, he replied, "I thought you already have."

Yeah. Well. I finally am.

This is it. My last post.

For this blog, that is.

I've decided to start another blog. The husband will be surprised.

The new blog is called Don't Be a Hippie. . . Now and Then. Its focus is more selfish. I shall be revealing as much as I dare about myself through my memories, stories of my elders, and everyday experiences. At least that's what I think.

Thank you Dear Readers and fellow Bloggers for your kindly visits and generous support. I hope you'll stop by my new blog.

~ Su-sieee! Mac

He Put Me Under His Spell. Kind Of.

2011-10-02T16:54:00.000-07:00

Steve the Hypnotist

This is what happens when you grow older: You volunteer to get on stage at the county fair and agree to be put under and possibly do some silly things in front of a crowd of people of whom most you don't know. It also helps that you are with a friend who has also temporarily forgotten to put her brakes on her sense of decorum.

Yeah.

It starts with said friend, aka the Evil2win saying "I want to see the hypnotist perform." And, then saying "I'd like to be hypnotized." And, me saying, "Me, too."

So, slowly, we and our companions‚ all six young old fogeys, mosey over to the main stage just in time for Steve the Hypnotist to introduce himself. He proceeds to test the audience's potential to see who is easily gullible. Our friend, Davey Hogg, who says he can't be hypnotized easily did what was suggested. Ha! Not me. But, I went up anyway. I've done hypnotherapy so know that I can follow the swinging gold watch.

As I went up, I called to the Evil2win who gave no second thought to going up to the stage. We obviously were not thinking that day.

Steve the Hypnotist proceeded to put 12 volunteers under his "spell", which was mostly focusing on his voice and listening to what he was suggesting. It was then a matter for me to really, really relax and to be willing to go along with his suggestions while I was very relaxed. As Steve the Hypnotist said in the beginning, anything he suggested that we would not want to do, we won't do. Even in a state of hypnosis, we are still aware of our surroundings and what we are doing.

In the 30 or so minutes we were up on stage, Steve the Hypnotist,weeded out those who were unable to relax into a state of hypnotic suggestions. By the end of the performance there were five or six of us, including Evil2win.

So, what hypnotic suggestions were given to us.

It was very cold. Do whatever you need to do to stay warm. The person next to me was so hot, I never felt cold.
It was very, very hot. Get cool. I found myself talking off my over shirt and my purse, and sprawling open-legged on my chair. It's a good thing I was wearing jeans.
Steve the Hypnotist would say a certain word and each time he said it, we would see him partly naked. I didn't see anything like that, but I also didn't want to open my eyes.
Hold out your hand for a shot of 150 proof alcohol and drink it all up. I drank mine and gladly held my arm out for a couple more shots. I was loose as a goose and felt good. When told to put our glass aside, I threw mine over my shoulder. When told to get up, I found that I could not do so.

All throughout, I knew I was not totally relaxed. I made sure of that. Steve the Hypnotist was right when he described me as someone who could be easily suggested. There was a reason after all why my hypnotherapy sessions worked for me. If anything, I came away from the stage feeling rather relaxed, almost the way I felt after my sessions.

Steve the Hypnotist gave us posthypnotic suggestions for when we were sitting back in the audience. I was to bark when I heard him say "Fido". I did feel like barking when he said it a few times, but I didn't. Throughout the afternoon, the husband would suddenly say "Fido" in hopes that I would. I guess I could've, just to make him happy. Rffff! Rffff!

If you'd like to see a bit more of our county fair, click here.

The Mama-isms at the Kitchen Table

2011-09-25T03:02:00.000-07:00

I heard these three Mama-isms quite often when I was a small child sitting at the kitchen table:

"Don't lean on your hand. God will get mad."

"Don't sing at the table. God will get mad."

"Don't play with your food. God will get mad."

The husband told me he was told similar things as a kid. Just not the part about "God will get mad." His parents usually said something like: "Don't lean on the table. That's not polite."

Since the Mama had to remind me more than once about not doing certain things at meal time, I must've figure God wasn't mad at me at all. And, look, I still sometimes play with my food.

A Day Out With The Mama

2011-09-23T01:34:00.000-07:00

"I like to pick tomatoes," the mama said, looking up as she continued picking cherry tomatoes from the depth of the green vines. "They should hire me."

Yesterday morning, the mama, the husband, and I picked tomatoes at a local organic farm. It was having one of its few U-pick days for the season. We discovered this opportunity a couple of years ago. We don't pick a lot of tomatoes. Just enough to freeze to last us until the next growing season. For us, that's about 25 to 30 pounds, which is about equivalent to what the Mama used to get from her tomato plants. With each year, the yield has gotten less, so finding a place to get a deal for organic tomatoes is really perfect.

This year, the Mama wanted to tag along for the picking. She doesn't like to go out much so it made the adventure an extra treat. She was really enjoying herself out there amongst the rows of tomatoes, plunked in the warm sun on her green plastic bench from home. The Mama had worked her whole life in agriculture—first on her family's farm in the Philippines and then on other people's farms and with seed companies here. Now, she gardens. Nurturing vegetables and fruits for everyone else to eat is in her blood.

The mama, the husband, and I worked different parts of the tomato field. Funny, how that happened. Also, good. We each were in our own zone of quietness and comfort, enjoying some solitude knowing each other was only several long rows away.

It was a wonderful day.

2011 Cozy Book Challenge

2011-09-19T03:16:00.000-07:00

How many book challenges did I sign up for at the beginning of the year? Whatever was I thinking? Oh, yeah, that I could and would read books for pleasure, at the same time as I'm doing research crazily about 500,000 different professions. hahahahahahahahahahaha.

Yeah, I'm hysterical. No, serious, I am hysterical.

I started off fine. If you were to look at my book list, you'd see I've read a dozen so far. C'est la vie.
Just the fact that I piled up all the books that I want to read, rather than scattered throughout our space is a win for me. And, for the husband. Poor guy. Once upon a time he organized and managed a very large warehouse of paper and office supplies for a California state agency. It was very clean and orderly. It in fact rivaled the cleanliness of the Mama's garden. (The woman picks up leaves and sweeps the ground every day that it's not raining. )

What was I talking about? Book challenges, yeah. There is one I did complete: The Cozy Book Challenge. I said I would read seven to 10 mysteries before the end of September. Every time I finished a mystery, I set it at the top of the stairs, thinking I'd write a brief review about it. hahahahahahahahaha.

But, look, that's what I'm going to do right now. Yep. Maybe I'll get another bookmark for completing it. I wouldn't mind. I actually use the one I got last year. Hey, that's another win for me, since it hasn't yet fallen into some crack never to be seen again.

Okay, so enough distraction already. . . . Uhm, okay, so some (cough) most of these books weren't on my 2011 Reading List.

The Clovis Incident by Pari Noskin Taichert
I bought this book in Albuquerque four years ago because she was a local Albuquerque author. The book is now with a friend with a request that it eventually come back to me. I want to read it again. The protagonist is self-employed public relations specialist and she's trying to keep herself from being extra-sensitive to the spiritual world. A visiting Chinese man was killed, but his soul is stuck until the main character can solve the crime. She's in a dilemma of having to solve it because her close friend is accused of murdering him.

The Clue of the Broken Locket by Carolyn Keene. It's your usual Nancy Drew story. She's all confident about what's what, while her two girlfriends, George and Bess, are not. For some reason, Nancy and her friends have driven up to a far away lodge. They keep running into a woman who seems to have a split personality and who eventually becomes the mystery they need to solve. Nancy's boyfriend, Ned, and his two friends show up to help the girls figure it out. They're also nincompoops compared to Nancy.

Farewell, Miss Zukas by Jo Dereske. The Miss Zukas series is one of my favorite series. This, alas, is the last tale in the series. Helma Zukas is a public librarian in a town near Seattle. Her sidekick is Ruth, a rabid artist. They are like night and day to each other. It works. The author ties everything up nicely, exactly how I hoped the main characters would end up. In this final adventure, the mystery evolves around Helma's elderly great-aunt and the keepsake in her box that had been stolen. The secondary stress line for Helma is the fact that she finally said "Yes" to the Police Chief's proposal.

Acceptable Loss by Anne Perry. The Monk and Hester series is another favorite series of mine. Monk is a London inspector who strongly believes in justice. He's one of the best detectives on the force even though he lost his memory several years before. Hester, his wife, served as a nurse in the Crimean war and a year or so ago started a safe house for prostitutes and destitute women and children in a bad part of London. It was Hester who helped Monk gradually gain confidence in himself and his abilities again. Through that all, he thought of her as a pain in the neck and so unwomanly, but yet Hester was who he would seek out to sort through his cases. It took several books before Monk realized he loved Hester. In this book, Monk and Hester want to find and arrest the owner of the boat on which orphaned boys were kept and used as play toys for the rich and famous men. Yes, Anne Perry does not shy away from disgusting criminal elements of Victorian London. Perry also is scared to throw in complications. It is possible that the owner may be the father-in-law of Monk's and Hester's friend.

Fatally Frosted by Jessica Beck. The protagonist is a doughnut store owner and baker. This is the second story in the series, and the third is sitting in the pile. It's not so much that I like the characters as I like the doughnut recipes. I also like that sometimes Beck describes in context how to make doughnuts. Yes, I crave for doughnuts when I read this book. No, I didn't eat any. The mystery to this tale: A hated woman in town was poisoned by one of the baker's doughnuts.

Mr. Monk on the Road by Lee Goldberg. Another protagonist named Monk. This is the same Mr. Monk of the TV series. Mr. Monk and his assistant Natalie are exactly how they were in the TV series. The book series is written in first person from the point of Natalie. This is the fourth or fifth book I've read in the series. It's the funniest yet. Mr. Monk, if you don't know him, has many quirks like he has to wipe his hands immediately after shaking a person's hand and that everything must be symmetrical. Natalie keeps him from going over the top. Mr. Monk was a former police detective for the San Francisco Police Department. Because of his quirks, he can't get his job back. But, because he is a dynamite detective, he is hired as a consultant. In this tale, Mr. Monk puts a sleeping pill in his brother's drink and then puts Ambrose in an RV so that the brother can see something of the world. Ambrose, you see, is an agoraphobic. This "kidnapping" is Mr. Monk's birthday present to his brother. Poor Natalie. She has to deal with two crazy brothers and the deaths that keep happening where ever they spend the night.

The Merry Wives of Maggody by Joan Hess. I used to read this series a lot. It stars Chief Arly Hanks of the tiny town of Maggody, Arkansas. The characters are hilarious. Almost everyone in the town are Buchanans and many of them are married to each other. In this tale, the women of Maggody in all their righteous glory have decided to put on a golf tournament to help the poor golf widows. The prize is a very expensive, high powered boat. Of course, all the men of Maggody want the boat, so they've entered the tournament even though they've never played golf. Their wives are furious, so they've signed up for the tournament too. They're also unskilled in the game. Throw in the professional and almost-professional golfers, each with issues, and what do you get. A murder. I confess, I got bored halfway through, so went to the end and read backwards. I guessed right about the events.

Summer of the Big Bachi by Naomi Hirahara. This is a beautifully written tale. It's a voice and style I rarely come across. Hirahara weaves fact and fiction quite well. The main character is Mas, a second generation Japanese American who spent his childhood in Hiroshima, Japan. He was there when the bombs were dropped. The mystery centers around Mas and his two friends who were together at the moment. In present day, someone is trying to find one of those friends, but it turns out that he was the one who died the day of the bombings. So, who is the one impersonating the dead man? Mas must sort it all out though he would rather not.

Perfume for the Mama, Parte Dos

2011-09-18T03:48:00.000-07:00

Yes, finally. Thank you, dear friends, for waiting patiently. Here's Part One to my quest to find perfume for the Mama.

Because I was buying perfume online, I purchased a bunch of samples so the Mama could decide which one or two she likes. My decision of which samples was based on the descriptions.

The Retailer: I went with DSH Perfumes.com, based in Colorado, because they had the best descriptions and prices for my budget.

Roll-on Perfumes
DSH had some perfumes on sale because they were being discontinued or were made on a temporary basis. I chose two perfumes in roll-on format. It turns out that the roll-on formats are easier for the Mama to handle.

en Fleur: "...A necklace of island flowers that stirs the soul: the one and only Plumeria." No brainer there. I love the smell of plumeria, and I wanted to share the happy scent of that one with the Mama. The mama's reaction: Okay.

butterfly: "...it is fresh and clear...It is vibrant, colorful and alive! butterfly's flirtatious juice is a blending of sexy summer florals, succulent fruits, and meditative tea and incense notes." The description made me imagine Mama as a young woman and the vibrant colors and smells of the tropical flowers that surrounded her. Until she came to the United States, the Mama lived in middle of Luzon, the largest island in the Philippines. I hoped that this perfume would be a scent that reminded her of then. The mama's reaction: She chose that one to put on when she went to see her eye doctor.

Samples
Parfum de Grasse: "Grasse is the legendary 'City of Perfumes,' the magical birthplace of superb flower essences and the world's greatest fragrance." I don't know if that's fact or fiction, but the description had me wondering if this perfume might be like Chanel No. 5. When I was small child, the daddy bought her a good-size bottle of the perfume and that is what the scent Mama wore for many years when she went out.

Parfum de LUXE: "Inspired by the Art Deco movement of Europe in the 1920s and 1930s, Parfum de LUXE is Rich, Confident and Pure. . . Ladies in fashionable clothes and their perfume was a statement." The Mama definitely has style that is her own. Sophisticated. Simple. Elegant. But that's not why I chose this perfume. I wanted something that had ylang ylang, a flower that grows in the Philippines. And this was it.

Rose Vert: "In a dream I am lost in fields of roses. . . ." The mama, the gardener, grows roses in the front and the back yards. She prunes her roses, sticks the branches in the dirt, and they bloom for her. I don't think any perfume could be better than home-grown roses. But, why not give this a try.

Cafe Noir: "It is a Paris Night. Dark and Sophisticated. . .It is an oriental fragrance, fusing classical sensibilities with the flair of the artist. It harmonizes spice, floral, resin and wood notes with the beloved aroma of coffee. It is a sensual and captivating perfume." The description is so not the Mama, at first reading. But I don't know. It may describe the woman that the Mama may have dreamt about being when she was young. . .before she had children. . .before she married. . .before the war disrupted her world.

DSH put two free samples into the package. One was called the Afternoon: "the scent of a warm day: sunny skies, soft kisses, laughter and happy memories."

The Mama's reaction to the samples: By the time we got to them, the smells ran together, so it was difficult to say which was okay, better than okay, or yes, that's the one. Checking out the fragrances again will be a fun thing to do. Probably on a rainy day when she can't go out to play in her garden.

Day One

2011-09-10T03:08:00.000-07:00

No, I haven't forgotten to write Part 2 about buying birthday perfume for the Mama. Yesterday afternoon while looking for a bookmark I found the envelope containing all the tags and bits of information about the perfume samples that I got her. So, part 2 is a coming. One day.

These days, it just takes me a long while to get around to doing the fun writing. Something called writing deadlines get in my way, as does making meals for the crew and doing the minimum housecleaning that I can get away with, which generally means when we're all sneezing. Not to say trying to stay half a step ahead of the Mama and remember to go water the flowers and chayote vines before they wilt. Oh, and other stuff, whatever they are. By the way, is anyone out there flinching with my grammatical errors yet. I'm sure they're there. "They" referring to errors.

I ought to be sleeping. I've got only 15 minutes left of the sleep cycle for my liver to regenerate itself. I read somewhere that our livers naturally do that between 10 p.m. and 3 a.m. I've never thought of myself as a night owl, but that's who I seem to be lately.

So, who wants to know what "Day One" is all about?

In short: I did 30 minutes of one of those "The Biggest Loser" exercise video. And, I've been able to go almost 20 minutes without scratching the eczema on my face, which I achieved because I'm challenging myself with a timer.

It's starting all over again.

At least, I've finally started.

Perfume for the Mama, Parte Una

2011-08-17T23:56:00.000-07:00

"I want perfume for my birthday."

That's what the mama said to me yesterday in the middle of the drugstore.

It was the first time she ever requested something special for her birthday. Usually, when asked, she'll say, "Nothing. Don't get me anything."

The moment after she said she wanted perfume, I got scared. Did she want to buy perfume right then, right there?

Thankfully, not! The only perfumes you can get in a drugstore stink as bad (or worse) as the odor you smile while driving by a compost factory, or a field freshly laid with manure, or plain old skunk spray. Yuck. I'm not even talking about the minutes after the eau has dissipated and you're now sniffing the burn of alcohol and who-knows-what chemicals. Sigh.

Most perfumes give me a headache. Some make my nose get stuffy. Worse yet, others make my face start itching.

Still. The mama doesn't ask for much.

So, this afternoon I jumped through the hoop, and spent hours on the Internet researching perfumes. No synthetics, please.

Finding perfumers that sell products with only natural ingredients—flowers, herbs, spices, etc.—was easy. Finding stores in my rural area that sell those products was not.

Finding online sellers was also easy. Finding sellers who don't just take Paypal and who can deliver the items by her birthday was not.

The most difficult obstacle, as many of you are probably wondering, was this: How do I choose a perfume when I can't smell it?

Fortunately, the best Web sites had scintillating descriptions of perfumes that gave me a sense of what they may be like—a scent like rain in a fir forest, or a tropical jungle, or a Sunday afternoon with girlfriends, or a step back in time to Paris in the 30s or to Italy during the Renaissance era.

Wow! I never thought of perfume like that.

The descriptions were fun to read and the scenes were enjoyable to pretend in my head. Did you ever think of red or blue or orange having a particular scent? I also liked reading the ingredients that went into making a perfume and what you would be smelling like not just at the beginning but also at the end of the day. For instance, a fragrance might first smell like the deep richness of a redwood forest, a couple hours later like the quiet of forest paths, and much later, like spicy dried moss hanging on the north side of trees.

Perfume is soooo complex.

What perfume did I finally choose for the soon-to-be 90-year-old mama? And, how did I decide them? Stay tuned.

The Wearing of Red

2011-07-31T12:44:00.000-07:00

I do feel sspassazzy about wearing something red now that I'm a young "old" fogey. Nope, not a red hat. Though I did learn I could've joined the Red Hat Society several years ago.

Yesterday, I bought myself a red lacy brassiere. Ooh la-la, indeed.

First time, I've ever owned a red one. Wonder why I never got one before. I liked the way I felt free, invincible, and joyful when I tried it on, similar to how I feel after having cut my hair very short.

Do I feel this same way when I wear a red frock, red shoes, or red earrings? Not that I can recall, but then I rarely wear red because it is such a visible color. Hello, stop sign. When I was in eighth grade, the mama made me a lovely red dress. She was disappointed that I didn't like to wear it. Ah, kids. I would definitely wear it today.

How about you? How does wearing red make you feel?

Hi, Hello, How are you?

2011-07-11T01:53:00.000-07:00

Really?

It's been almost a month since I posted a post.

Wish I could say I was traveling or wandering in wonder lust.

Nope. Just getting on with life.

Dusting and vacuuming a bit more often to keep my facial eczema from flaring so awfully awful that my eyes become swollen. How swollen? The recessive epicanthic folds of my eyelids show themselves. An advantage for me. Nobody thinks anything is wrong with my eyes.

Celebrating the husband's 60th anniversary of being born. Every 60-year-old child should have a birthday party complete with bubble wands, darts, and other games. And lots of his favorite food.

Finishing a deadline and starting another one. Sigh. I'm boxed in until 12/12/12. So, by golly, the world better not end on 12/21/12!

Working on my 40th high school class reunion. The husband doesn't believe me when I say this is the last time I work on a reunion. "Absolutely," I say. "Uh-huh," he says.

So, that what has kept me me away from writing on the blog for almost a month.

Actually, I probably will stay away until the reunion stuff is over. But, you can find me every day at Take 25 to Hollister. That's the blog I do about my hometown, not the store. I've given myself the challenge of posting a photo a day for a year. I'm now on Day 170.

So, if you don't find anything new here, head over to Take 25 to Hollister. Yep, that's what I would do.

Hope all's well with everyone!

A piu tarde,

Su-sieee! Mac

P.S. I let the husband cut my hair off. All of it. His first time at cutting hair. He did a very good job, don't you agree?

Earlier, this evening. . .

2011-06-14T20:40:00.000-07:00

I don't remember the last time I was outside. Just sitting. Just doing nothing. Well, okay, except for doodling words with a pen on a piece of paper. About, of course, nothing.

I'm sitting on a beach chair on the front stoop. The mama is sitting in the back yard deadheading her pink daisies. The husband is standing in the front yard hand-watering the lawn. Uhmmm, that spray feels good.

Me. I should be making dinner. And, I shall in a while.

For now, I just want to enjoy a pause. I've been cooped inside spinning words and sentences into short, but clear and comprehensible paragraphs about stuff I have already forgotten. It's best to do that when you work on reference books. If I had retained everything I've written about in the last 13 years, my gosh... Ka-poosh! The sound of my brains exploding. Splattt. Splutt. Spposh. The sounds of my brains splashing on the walls and ceiling.

Ah, yes. Imagination is good to have at any age.

Now, I must go make dinner for the crew.

This was a relaxing pause. It was.

Guess What It Is

2011-06-05T21:22:00.000-07:00

Uh-hmm. Is that how you spell the sound of clearing one's voice? Ah-hemmmm.

This morning I was making the husband's side of the bed. Nah, I'm not the bedmaker. The husband was making up my side of the bed. That's how it was today. Tomorrow may be different.

Anyway, I didn't see it right away. The white strand of something that was floating above the husband's side of the bed. When I did finally saw it, I climbed up on the bed and laid down beneath it.

"Look, look," I said, then pretended to snore the husband's snore so the white strand floated upwardly. I did it a few times before he caught on.

So, what did we do?

We laughed for a long time.

Wouldn't you?

We decided that white strand wasn't there when he got up. He would've sheared it right off, as it was hanging quite, quite low over his side of the bed. Whatever made it had at least an hour to spin that thick strand of cobweb from the lamp to the top of the 2009 calendar that hangs on the wall above the bed. It could've been anywhere from 3 to 4 or more feet long. Really, that's an amazing feat.

I suppose it's time to get the broom and go cobweb hunting around the house. Maybe, I might.

Three Things I Should Learn; Or, Maybe Non Sequitur Rambling

2011-06-01T01:31:00.000-07:00

One: Slice a mango.

The other day, the mama bought a box of mangoes from a guy, who might not have a license for selling boxes of such beautiful fruit on the street corner. The mangoes are huge and delicious. It's a pity, I mangle them when I slice them.

Two: Uh, I forgot.

Three: I forgot that, too.

Slicing the mango? Definitely, should learn to cut one. But will I?

Maybe if I say "Ought to learn to cut one." The way I phrase things makes a difference. I may actually learn to slice it. This old dog can still learn new tricks.

I learned for instance that if I had said this instead: "I might actually learn to slice it." I would not learn to do it at all. I'm not kidding.

The husband gave me this link the other day so that I would understand the difference in usage of may and might. It's rather interesting. Did you know that might is the past tense of may? I may have known that at one time. Yes, I just might have.

Now, I should go look up how to slice a mango. Maybe, I just might.

Hmmm. A Poem.

2011-05-29T20:18:00.000-07:00

Endless, So it Seems

2011-05-19T02:09:00.000-07:00


Today's letter is E. For more E posts, please click here.

I've just only settled into a writing groove when it's time to go to the kitchen again.

About eight years ago, the Mama's health was failing because of poor nutrition. All she wanted to eat was cereal or frozen waffles and 2% lactose-free milk. Thank goodness for milk. Maybe if she didn't work so hard and long in her flower and vegetable gardens, she could've made do. But, the Mama can't stand still. And, as we all know, when we live alone, we pretty much eat what we want to eat and when we want to eat it.

So, about eight years ago, it was quite obvious that her high-carbo, minuscule protein diet had taken its toll on her body. The decision wasn't easy for everyone involved, but it was made. The mama, the husband, and I became roomies.

Today, the husband and I seem to spend a lot of time in the kitchen every day. Me cooking; him washing dishes; and me, him, and the mama eating. Most days, three times a day.

The mama does her own breakfast because she gets up an hour or so earlier than us. She likes her cereal, and she likes a lot of it. That's okay, because now she eats cereal only once a day, and she has taken to eating it with nuts and dried fruit. Tiny, big steps for her.

Lunch and dinner are when the three of us come together at the table. Thankfully, we don't have set hours for meals. I just keep tabs on the time and make sure we don't go over five hours between meals. The time between breakfast and lunch is longer for the mama than for us, so to make sure she doesn't get weaky-weaky (her term for being just that) when she's working in the garden, I give her a glass of juice to tide her over. I only figured to do that a couple of months ago.

I used to pride myself in being able to put a homemade meal together in 20 to 30 minutes. This was before Rachel Ray ever did her thing on TV. Now, its seem to take me forever, which I guess is another aging thing. Lunch, maybe, I can get on the table in 15 minutes. It's usually sandwiches or leftovers.

Dinner is another story. Making dinner can take me almost 45 minutes or an hour, if there's a lot of chopping and dicing involved. I like it when the husband makes dinner. We get in the car and come home with take-out. It would be easier to go sit in a restaurant, but it's not so easy getting the mama to one.

It's a good thing I like to cook; the husband likes to wash dishes (really, he does); and the mama, him, and me like to eat. As for the mama's health? Like I said, she can't stand still. That's a very good thing.

Standing On One Foot

2011-05-15T23:51:00.000-07:00

Warning: This post is really about nothing.

My first try was 9 seconds. My second try was 20-something seconds. My third try? Ah, a full minute.

Pretty good for a heavy-set old lady balancing on one foot. My left foot, too. And, that isn't even my dominant side.

"What are you doing over there?" asked the husband as he was washing the lunch dishes.

"I'm seeing how long I can stand on one foot," I said, setting the timer on the refrigerator door.

"Why?" he asked, not turning around.

"Because you never know when our survival depends on me being able to balance on one foot."

He laughed. Of course. I did, too. "When could that happen?"

"Say a crook holds us hostage in a bank. He'll only let us go if an old lady can stand on one foot for five minutes."

"Like that could happen," the husband said, rinsing the dishes.

"You never know," I said. "I want to be ready for any event. There could be a Survivor for the older crowd. Now, I'm going to try to stand for one minute on my right foot."

The husband suddenly stood behind me. He said, "I want to see how long I can do it."

I set the timer for a minute. "Are you ready?"

"Wait. . . Okay."

"Go."

Three seconds later his foot went down. "I'm trying again. Just keep going."

Almost 25 seconds.

Ding. One minute on my bum right ankle. Hurrah!

"It's not as easy as it looks," the husband mumbled, going back to the dishes.

"Not to worry," I said. "I shall save us."

Next time, I'll try to balance on one foot for two minutes. No, make that one minute, 15 seconds. No need to go all out crazy about it.

Dear readers, thank you for reading to the end. Didn't I say the post was all about nothing? Next time I'll write about something with a bit more substance.

Maybe.

Deeper into the Raging Aging Category

2011-05-09T01:48:00.000-07:00

I believe that the husband and I have slipped into another level of the old rooty-toot fogeys.

Friday, no Saturday, was food shopping day. I pulled into a space in the parking lot, opened the door, and saw what looked like sand-over-dried-crud on the ground. Sighing, I carefully placed my feet so as not to touch it and hauled my heavy self out of the car.

"Yuck, dried vomit," I said.

"Spilled drink," countered the husband. "It's all over here, too."

I thought about moving the car, but let the moment past. I took out the grocery bags from the back seat and as I slammed the door I saw another one behind the passenger's seat.

"Can you get that bag on your side, please?"

The husband did, which meant first opening the front door, next unlocking the back door, and then fetching the bag with his bum arm.

Now flash forward about 25 minutes. After loading our bags into the trunk, the husband and I noticed the front passenger side door wide open.

"Did I leave that open?" he asked at the same time I asked "Did you leave it open?"

Nothing was taken. But, then, why would anyone want to even touch the mess in the back seat. Yeah, we're those kind of people.

As we started to get into the car, a woman in a red SUV leaned out her window. "Excuse me," she said. "Your door was open when we got here. We didn't want to touch it. So, we decided to wait here and watch your car until someone came."

Wow, huh?

We thanked them. I said, to my surprise, "That was very sweet of you." The woman gave me a look of surprise in return. An unexpected little-old-lady response of gratitude, I suppose.

So there you have it. The husband forgetting to close the car door in a parking lot and me saying little old lady things. Two a-little-bit-more old rooty-toot fogeys.

Heaven help us. Please.

A Casual Outing

2011-05-05T02:32:00.000-07:00

Today's letter is C.
For more C posts,
please click
HERE.

On the husband's and my last 23rd date, we got in our car and drove east over the mountain to finally do the wander we started a few months ago. The fog was too thick then so we had turned back. Not so a few weeks ago. It was a gorgeous day for being carefree and fancy-free.

Back in January, a waitress had told us if we wanted to see some great views, we should go to the San Joaquin Valley National Cemetery in Gustine and drive up to the flagpole. She was right. The husband thought that the Veterans buried at the cemetery were probably happy to finally be in a peaceful place.

San Joaquin National Cemetery in Merced County is one of the 131 national
cemeteries for U.S. Veterans. To read personal comments about the cemetery at Yelp.com, click here.

We had one goal that day—to hike in the Great Valley Grasslands State Park. It is truly an undeveloped park. It's a good thing we did our homework. Otherwise, we wouldn't have known by which unmarked gate to park.

I expected grass above my head and to be walking through it. Maybe it was
further up the path, but we only got a mile in because. . .

. . .this killdeer Mama stopped us in our tracks with her screeches. She was hatching
her four eggs. Rather than stressing her out with us walking by, we watched her for a bit,
then turned around and headed back to the car.


We definitely want to return to the Great Valley Grasslands State Park and complete our trek.

After getting back in the car, we decided to just wander. The husband and I took turns saying which way to turn. Left. Right. Straight ahead. Through the farmlands of Merced County we drove.

"Look at that!" "Did you see that?" "Wonder where we are." "Do we have a map?"

We drove through Livingston and wondered if a Stanley lived there.

"Are you hungry?"

When you're in the middle of ruralness, you won't find any convenient picnic tables. So we did what any of you, dear readers, would've done. We pulled off the road and into an orchard, set our beach chairs under a shady peach tree, and made sandwiches out of the bagels, salami, and cheese that we brought from home. I can still remember how good those sandwiches tasted and how relaxed we felt just hanging out there in an orchard far away from responsibilities and duties.

The husband had waited several hours to read the comic strips.

After lunch, we continued taking turns saying Left. Right. Straight ahead. And, of course, Stop! I gotta take a picture.

Water towers, my new fascination.

We eventually came to Merced, the county seat. Both of us had never been there. I'm ready to return if just to see more of the Merced County Courthouse Museum. That 1875 building is a beauty, both in and out. Because we got there half an hour before closing, we rushed through it with a docent following us all the way. Picture-taking is not allowed in the museum. I didn't know that.

It turned out to be a good thing, as the docent told us stories about the courthouse that we wouldn't have learned on our own. For example: "See those scuff marks on the wall by the steps," the docent said, as we were walking up the stairs to the second floor. "They were made by the prisoners' ankle cuffs as they walked up the steps." I could just hear the sound of shuffling feet and metal scraping against the wood.

The statues that perch atop the old Merced County Courthouse.
At the tippy top of the cupola is Minerva, the goddess of wisdom.
Below her is Lady Justice. She holds a sword and scales. Hmmm.

From Merced, we headed homeward. Left. Right. Straight ahead. Jiggity jigg.

A Saturday Ramble in the Kitchen

2011-04-30T16:38:00.000-07:00

I'm supposed to be downstairs finishing up what I started over a couple hours ago:

. . .washing the fresh veggies we bought at the local farmstand
. . .turning the cut unripe mango into a sauce or something
. . .combining the ripe avocado and quarter-cube of tofu into mashed avocado and tofu with garlic, green onion, tomato, cilantro, and (shhhh!) kimchee juice
. . .creating some kind of casserole with the leftover BBQ chicken from last Sunday's Filipino Community BBQ fundraiser.

Oh, and don't forget, self, wash the lunch dishes.

The husband is normally the dishwasher but because I needed to hog the kitchen sink and counter I said I'd wash them. That is, I will after I'm done with everything else I need to complete.

Maybe I shouldn't have let the husband off the hook. Lunch was a concoction of mashed banana, tofu, peanut butter, and fig jam on toasted blueberry bagel. When the husband took a bite, he asked, "What the heck is this?"

"What? You don't like it?" I responded.

"It tastes good," said the husband. "It just looks like barf. But, it tastes good."

Okay, then, that's all that counts.

It didn't hurt my feelings that he described the look of my dish as such. It really didn't. He describes honey as bee barf. Besides, it was not the first time that someone has said to my dish tastes great, but looks horrible.

C'est le vie.

Back downstairs I go.

P.S. This is a couple hours or so later. I accomplished everything but washing the dishes. The husband is doing that now, along with the dinner dishes. No big deal, according to him. I am thankful for that.

P.S.S. For dinner, I made another dish that looked horrible, but tasted wonderful. It's not like I'm trying. If you haven't experimented with sauteing not-so-sweet pineapple and mango with leftover BBQ chicken and/or BBQ pork, give it a try. Even the mama ate up her portion.

Finding the Funny in B for Bleeding

2011-04-28T01:45:00.000-07:00

Today's letter is B.
For more B posts,
please click here.

Bleeding.

Definitely not to be taken lightly.

Postmenopausal bleeding, in particular, for us mature ladies.

Still, there's some humor to be found. Hold that thought.

Serious stuff first: The medical experts say that postmenopausal bleeding refers to any bleeding (light or heavy) occurring after one full year of no flow. There could be various reasons that a post-menopausal woman may suddenly start bleeding, from benign cervical polyps to yuck! cancer. So, dear ladies, you know who you are, do not hesitate, do not pass Go. Make an appointment to see your gynecologist tout de suite.

Okay, back to that held thought. Humor.

Let me take you back to 2006. Then was my first bout with postmenopausal bleeding. Lady-Doc (and my gynecologist is a she) found a rather huge, very ugly hot potato of a polyp. She twisted that baby off and sent it to the lab. Ladies, the things our gynecologists must see and do. They're well worth the money. Fortunately, Lab-Doc decreed the polyp as benign. However, Lady-Doc told me that I may get more over the years because essentially I have the physical conditions to be at risk for them. Lab-Doc also diagnosed that I had something called atypical hyperplasia, which also contributed to my case of postmenopausal bleeding.

Hey! you say. Where's the funny in that?

When that all happened, I was 52. I had never used birth control pills until then.

I hear you. What's birth control pills got to do with postmenopausal bleeding?

In my own words—don't quote me, please—birth control pills control estrogen. That was one, perhaps the only way other than a hysterectomy, to stop that hyperplasia from possibly developing into yuck! cancer.

So, anyway, the funny stuff: The pharmacy was very busy the day that I went to pick up my birth control pills. Four pharmacy aides worked the counter, including a young man who had started a few weeks before. I was hoping I'd get one of the women who were around my age. Of course not.

The young man took my name and went searching for my prescription. I watched him do the rounds at each station where they might be. The second time he went into the drawer where my prescription should've been and pulled out the same prescription I'd seen him pull out before, he asked me, "Is the prescription under someone else's name?"

"No. Whose do you have there?"

He called out the brother's name. Hmm, maybe. I asked, "What's the prescription for?"

Bingo. It was my prescription.

"That's it," I said. "He's my older brother. Someone must've confused our accounts."

The young man looked at me unsurely.

"Those are birth control pills," I said, "Why would my brother be prescribed birth control pills? If his wife needs them, she'd get her own prescription."

The young man still hesitated. It could've been the grey hair sprouting from my head that confused him. Why would an old lady need birth control pills? That was for me to know. So, I repeated my logic. Second time must've made sense to him. He took the pills and went back to talk to a pharmacist to sort it all out.

And that, dear readers, is how this postmenopausal woman got her first batch of birth control pills.

Funny, no?

P.S. I only had to use the birth control pills for several months. The hyperplasia condition went away. More than a year later, Lady-Doc twisted off another benign polyp. Fast forward to last week. Bleeding. I figured it was a burst polyp. Knock on wood, that is all it is. I ought to know soon.

P.P.S. If you would like to read some easy-to-understand medical explanation about postmenopausal bleeding, in general, check out this link.

Aging, Sometimes Awkwardly

2011-04-21T02:44:00.000-07:00

Alphabe-Thursday, hosted by Jenny Matlock at Off on My Tangent, is staring a new round of the alphabet. Whoo-hoo! To read more A posts, click on over to here. Of course, that's after reading my A post. ~ Su-sieee! Mac

Getting older is a learning experience.

Duh.

If someone gave me an operating manual for aging, I doubt that I would open it. That would be like finding out what date and time slot death has assigned me.

No, thank you.

I'm happy to grumble and gripe, cry and cringe, and mumble and moan through the aging process. The physical aspect, that is.

Seriously, I don't think I am at all that old until I happen to glance into a mirror. Fortunately, we still haven't put up another mirror in the bathroom since the old one broke last New Year's Eve. So, what I don't see, well is what I don't see. Though a few weeks ago, someone asked me ever so sweetly and with much concern, "Are you sick?"

Huh?

Heck, no. Knock on wood.

Hold that Thought

2011-04-17T16:57:00.000-07:00

I've held many thoughts so long that I hope one day they'll pass through my mind again. Especially the funny ones.

One of my faults is suddenly interrupting the husband when he is reading or following something on TV to tell him something that bam! popped into my head. Let's just say he finds it annoying. Very. After blah-blah years together, I believe I've gotten better at holding my thoughts until he looks up or a commercial comes on. Alas, my brain has moved on to other thoughts.

I wonder if that's what the vagueness is I sometimes feel going on in my head. Random thoughts that didn't get shared by either saying them aloud (to the husband) or writing them down for this blog. Yeah, I miss expounding about nothing and wasting virtual space with my verbiage.

Do you think it's true that everything on the Internet is floating outwardly into the infinity of space? The waves must be pretty darn strong to break through the atmosphere and whatever else without fizzling before reaching space, the final frontier.

I really wonder if there is an end to the universe. Perhaps its perimeter is bound by some kind of fence put up by those who live on the other side. The only reason they would put it up is to keep us out. Of course, like Hadrian's Wall.

Oh, yes. I just remembered one of the thoughts I had on hold. Giving myself decrees for when and how often to post to my blog is plain redonkulous.

Catch as catch can. Can-can.

Z is for Z's!

2011-04-07T03:30:00.000-07:00

Today's letter is Z.
For more Z posts,
please click here.

Zounds!

No longer a zitella am I.

What does it matter. I still have zip, zazz, and zizz.

Oh, yes, and zany.

I have zipped the lines and one day I shall zumba.

Now, it's time for me to start making some zzzzzzzzzzzz's.

Until later, my sweet Zumbadors!

Another Reason "Y" I Love The Husband

2011-03-31T02:14:00.000-07:00

Today's letter is Y.
For more Y posts,
please click here.

We could be walking, riding our bicycles, or driving down the way.

"I need to take a picture," I announce.

He does not yelp.
Nor does he yawp.

He waits patiently.
Yawn. He does now and then.
He says he is just relaxed.

I am so fortunate.

Xenophile, Xenophobe

2011-03-24T02:46:00.000-07:00

Today's letter is X.
For more X posts,
please click here.

Xenophile: A person who likes foreign people and things.

Xenophobe: A person who is very afraid, for no sane reason, of anything foreign and, in particular, of people of foreign origin.

These two words are right next to each other in the dictionary, at least in mine it is. Anybody else see the irony in that? Xenophobe coming after xenophile, that is.

Seeing the two words together made me think of a few things:

My uncle and aunt lived in California but they couldn't get married there. I don't remember what year it was, but, it was before the state anti-miscegenation law was repealed in 1948. They had to travel to another state to tie the knot. I wonder if going back home was their honeymoon.

When I was in high school, 40 years ago, a friend told me that he didn't think he was going to like me because he had heard some ranchers talk about my brother and me. One of the ranchers had said something like: "Those kids sure know how to hold up their race." My friend thought I was trying to be "white". That line still cracks me up, as I only raced in gym class. I still would like to know who those guys were.

A college professor, originally from Australia, excused the grammar errors in my senior paper because English was my second language. For once, I kept my mouth shut and didn't tell her that I only spoke English. But, there was some truth in her assumption. For the first 19 years of my life, I was translating daily in real-time in my head my parents' language to English as they spoke to me so I could understand what they were saying. Too bad, the switch didn't work the other way.

These lines from Shylock's monologue in the Merchant of Venice when he was asked why he would take a pound of flesh from Antonio, the merchant, if he does not pay back a loan. Antonio, remember, hates the Jewish people.

"... If you prick us, do we not bleed? if you tickle us, do we not laugh? if you poison us, do we not die? and if you wrong us, shall we not revenge? If we are like you in the rest, we will resemble you in that. If a Jew wrong a Christian, what is his humility? Revenge. If a Christian wrong a Jew, what should his sufferance be by Christian example? Why, revenge. The villainy you teach me, I will execute, and it shall go hard but I will better the instruction."

Unlike Shylock, revenge does not interest me. That is being just as crazy as the xenophobe. Yes, it is.

Yesterday, the husband and I, who fortunately were able to get married in California, saw a very funny movie. Paul. I think it was written by a couple of funny, fun-loving xenophiles. You could almost say they were having fun with xenophobes. Be forewarned: It really is a silly movie.

What's Up With Me

2011-03-23T00:36:00.000-07:00

Hello Dear Gentle Readers,

I haven't been on vacation. I wish, though.

I'm not sick. Knock on wood.

The mama and the husband are doing well. Thanks for wondering.

I've been blogging less because I'm not very good anymore at writing for work and writing for fun at the same time. I'm working on revisions for some career books over the next two years. If only blogging could pay the bills. So, alas, I'm down to blogging at least once a week—on Thursdays.

Take 25 to Hollister
As some of you know, I also do a blog about my home town. Take 25 to Hollister, for those of you who haven't seen it. I've stopped writing posts for that blog, too. But, not photos. Not just yet. I've challenged myself to post a photo every day. I'm up to day 61. We'll see how long I can go.

Another Book Reading Challenge
Really?

Yes. Call me nuts. Many already have and do.

This one is the annual Cozy Mystery Challenge. This will be second year. I couldn't resist. Cozy mysteries relax me after hours of dry research. So, why not throw in a challenge while I'm at it. This year, I'm aiming for the "I think I can do better" level, which means I shall read between 7 to 10 cozy mysteries. (Yes, I'll be cheating by reading some books that I'm doing for other challenges. It is allowed, however.)

Cozy Mystery Challenge 2011 is hosted by Kris at Not Enough Books. It runs from April 1 to December 31. If you'd like to sign up, click here.

So there you go. That's what has been up with me lately.

Until later, my lovely blogging friends,
Su-sieee! Mac

Winter's End

2011-03-17T00:37:00.000-07:00

There have been years where I've missed spring completely. I often started writing projects in late autumn or early winter that would have summer deadlines. I left the house mostly to go grocery shopping, run errands, and attend engagements. Not until May would I realize that I did it again. No spring. Sigh.

The month of March is one of my favorite months. To me, March is the essence of spring. Plants giggle "Hello" as they pop up through the ground. Trees sing with blossoms and new leaves. California poppies, blue larkspurs, and other crazily colorful wildflowers smile above expansive fields of grass. The yellow mustard laughs through the orchards. The hillsides shout green, green, green.

It was easy for me to forget when I lived in city settings with miles of concrete and canyons of buildings. And, as my freelance career took off, the rides and walks into nature became far and few.

It's much differently now since the husband and I have moved to the town where I grew up. Although it has developed over the years, there still is a lot of rural to it. So even though I may be hot and heavy into a project, such as now, whenever I go out, I am reminded instantly. Spring has come.

Yes, it has.

For more spring vistas of my area, please visit this page at my other blog, Take 25 to Hollister.

I am participating in Alphabe-Thursday, a weekly meme hosted by Jenny Matlock. Today is the letter W. You can check out other W posts by clicking here.

The Vow

2011-03-10T01:40:00.000-08:00

Today's letter is V.
For more V posts,
please click
here.

"When I'm gone, you take care of your mother," the daddy suddenly said to me one evening. He did not wait for my response. He knew I would promise.

I was in my late 20s. At the time, the mama and I still clashed, mostly about what my life should be. At the time, I really didn't think I could ever live with her again. Several days was about all I could handle being around her.

Thirty years later, the husband and I have been living with the Mama for over seven years now. It took at least the first four years for each of us to get the hang of starting to live together. That's life. Nothing wrong with that.

The almost 90-year old Mama has slowed down. But only some. When she gets it in her head that she wants something done, she wants it done pronto, and she wants to do it by herself. Usually, she comes up with these projects while we're away. For instance, one morning she asked that we help her with the lemon tree after we finish breakfast. I thought she meant to prune it. So, when I went outside to check out what needed to be done, I saw a heavy branch hanging precariously over the back fence. What had she done? The day before she had tied a rope to the branch then hacked away at it with her trusty machete. She's very wicked with that machete. That's the mama.

It is with the small things that I do for her that I realize how much the mama had taken care of me.

When I was a small kid I wandered outside a lot. Every so often, the mama would call to me just to see where I am and if I am okay. Every now and then, I stick my head out the back door to see where the Mama is. "Mama!" I call when I can't see her. When she answers, I walk away. When she does not answer, I go looking for her.

She used to take my hand just before we cross the street. I do that now.

She mixed chocolate in my milk to make sure I would drink it. That is how I doctor her milk so she will drink it.

She tied my shoes; I help her slip into hers.

Small things.

United We Stand

2011-03-03T01:25:00.000-08:00

Today's letter is U.
For more U posts,
please click
here.

This message is strong in my head and heart today. So, I shall leave it to Aesop and the Brotherhood of Man to deliver it.

The Four Oxen and the Lion

by Aesop
translated by George Fyler Townsend
(Public Domain Translation of Aesop's Fables Selections) 

A Lion used to prowl about a field in which Four Oxen used to dwell. Many a time he tried to attack them; but whenever he came near they turned their tails to one another, so that whichever way he approached them he was met by the horns of one of them. At last, however, they fell a-quarrelling among themselves, and each went off to pasture alone in a separate corner of the field. Then the Lion attacked them one by one and soon made an end of all four.

United we stand, divided we fall.   

29 Years Ago

2011-02-25T16:04:00.000-08:00

The Daddy, mid-1970s.
My favorite photo of him.

Twenty-nine years ago on this day, the Daddy died from a heart attack. He was 76 years old.

Maybe he didn't pick how or where he died, but I think he was happy it wasn't at home where the Mama would've come home to find him after a long, tiring day at work. He was always protective of her.

That day the Daddy decided to go to lunch at the senior center with his good friend Danny, one of the godfathers of mine. The Daddy hadn't been there for quite a long while. He hadn't been feeling well, but those last three days, I was told, he'd been going strong, visiting, babysitting, doing so many of the things he liked to do.

So, there he was sitting at the lunch table. He was bending down for a spoon on the floor, I was told. He was there longer than he should have been. "Hey, 'Pare (short for compadre), what you doing down there?" called a friend. Then, a scramble to get help for the Daddy. That was it.

While the Daddy was dying, I was sitting in a restaurant over 100 miles away with my new colleagues. It was a lunch to greet the new editors, another woman and myself. All of a sudden, I felt a shiver and a flush go through my body. A feeling of sadness, then relief, then joy. I figured at the time it was just the emotion of having finally been hired to my dream job. Nothing more.

Back at the office, I was told by the company president that the Daddy had died. Later, when I thought back at that moment, I knew it was the Daddy floating by to say good-bye one last time.

Today, the husband and I bought a pot of gardenias for the Mama. She has been a widow for 29 years. Flowers are nice for graves. They are so much nicer for the living.

The spirit of Daddy, I am sure, is having himself a ball right now.

T is for the 23rd

2011-02-24T03:21:00.000-08:00

Today's letter is T.
For more T posts,
please click here.

As some of you dear readers know, on the 23rd of each month, the husband and I run away from home and office to become tourists, adventurers, and slackers for the moment. For February's special date, we headed over to Point Lobos State Natural Reserve on the Monterey Peninsula, just south of Carmel by the Sea. Neither of us had ever been there.

We saw quite a lot in the two short hikes that we did. I took 90 photos, more or less. No, no. Don't groan or gasp. I'm not going to post them all. Only a few. Just to tease you. If you ever make it to Monterey, you'll have to go see Pt. Lobos for yourself. It's well worth it.

Pt. Lobos was established to protect
the Monterey Cypress trees.

Pt. Lobos is one of the only
two cypress tree reserves in the world.

See how flat they get.
The husband says it's because of the wind.

This little fellow sat patiently
for his photo to be taken.

It wasn't till I looked at this photo that I saw
the elephant seal on the rock. I was too busy watching
an otter swimming just below that rock.

Kelp or mermaids on the beach?

The water was so green and clear here.
If only it was warm enough to swim in.

Diving is permitted at a couple of coves in the reserve.
I've read that Point Lobos is one of the best places in California
to see underwater nature.

For info about Pt. Lobos, check out these two web sites:

Point Lobos Foundation
Point Lobos State Natural Reserve

The Irresistibly Sweet Award

2011-02-20T12:14:00.000-08:00

Alice Audrey gave me that award up there. It was unexpected, and very sweet of her. Thank you, Alice!

So, now it's my turn to play it forward.
The Rules:

List 4 Guilty Pleasures
Reading the afternoon (or evening) away
Buying a mocha latte from Vertigo Cafe
Watching yet another movie made from a Jane Austen book
Taking a nap

Reward other bloggers
Carmen's Chronicles
JDaniel4's Mom
Quicky Pickings
Widdershins World

Irresistibly Sweethearts, check out sweet Alice's post, if you're not sure about how to handle these blog awards. It surely turned on a light for me.

S is for Sssssssssssssssssspam

2011-02-17T01:10:00.000-08:00

Today's letter is S.
For more S posts,
please click here.

Congratulations are in order. Maybe. I am a new multi-millionaire.

Rather, I would be a multi-millionaire if I respond to these e-mails.

Morgan David & Associates from Bristol England stated I am the beneficiary of over 8 million pounds. The firm broke the delicate news about an unknown patron with "Dear Sir/Madam."
Chan from China, a former investment banker, wrote that his former employers have asked him to contact me and let me know that if I do not accept $15.7 million dollars from an American account, they will keep the money forever. All I need to do is give them my phone number and date of birth.
Mr. Oyi John, of the Federal High Court of Nigeria, wrote that I must prove I am not dead. Otherwise, someone named Mr. Jones McBolt will transfer $2.5 million from my account into his. There is a hitch. How shall I prove that I am the one and only living Charbel Aad?
Mrs. Anthonia Emma has been instructed to pay me $1.5 million. It will be paid in amounts of $5,000, three times a day until the end of the year. And guess what? This same message was sent to me by the Western Union Office.
A British citizen named Mr. George Clesse, working as a financial manager for the Chevron British Oil Company, wants to strike a secret deal with me. Shh! He says he is willing to give me half of $13.1 million from a client in Mexico, with whom he has lost touch and who he thinks was murdered by drug lords. All I have to do is contact a certain London bank and so forth and so on.
Olarn Chaipravat sent me a top secret message. So secret and so long, I have no idea how much I will be receiving. I just must make sure I don't tell anyone. He did say "Good luck."
London barrister Ken Cole sent me an email because my surname is similar to his deceased client and no closest of kin has stepped up to claim $32 million. I must send him my contact information tout de suite so he and I can get our money ASAP.
Yahoo/msn sent me a brief congratulatory note saying that I have won a computer balloting sweepstakes. Just email it back and I will soon receive an undisclosed sum. Whoopee!
Some unknown person wrote that I have won 815,950 euros in a Spanish sweepstake and all information could be found on the attached Word file. I just can't decide if I want to chance getting my computer possibly infected. Do I really want to be stuck with euros?
Someone named MARIA CRISTINA GAMBOA just wrote to get in touch with her pronto. A very legitimate transaction awaits me.
Madam Janina Tom is dying and she wants her $$ to go to someone who would be willing to meet her conditions. If I accept, I would give 50% to charity and use the other 50 percent to invest as I see fit and to "support and establish" her house girl when she comes to meet me. Madam, huh?
Mr. James Schoenberg, secretary (U.N.) wrote that he has $2.3 million to give me for overdue payments. FedEx will deliver my $$ once I give him the essential contact information.
The Yahoo International Lottery in Thailand sent me a notice that I am one of 25 people who have won $1 million. If it's from Yahoo, it must be legitimate.

So, there you go. I could be a multi-millionaire.

Unfortunately, and not so regrettably, I chose to respond to these e-mails by forwarding them to spam@uce.gov.

Just think.
I could've bought myself
a bunch of these boots—one for
each day of the year.

Book Review: The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society

2011-02-14T03:00:00.000-08:00

I picked up The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society, by Mary Ann Shaffer and Annie Barrows, at the bookstore early last year because the title caught my eye. Really delightful, don't you think? But, I put it down when I read "the German occupation" on the back cover. Let's face it, I don't like to read depressing tales anymore. A few months after that encounter, I read a review about it that made me think "maybe, I'll read it." Using correspondence to move the plot forward intrigued me. Now flash forward to my birthday last December. What do you know? A friend gifted me a copy of "The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society." Thanks, again, evil2win.

The setting: London and the Island of Guernsey, one of the Channel Islands in the English Channel.

The time: Several months after the end of WWII.

The characters: Juliet Ashton, an author, and the people of Guernsey.

The story: Juliet no longer wants to be thought of as a "light-hearted journalist." She wants to write something more serious, but doesn't know what. Then one day she gets a letter from Dawnsey Adams who's asking for help to find a London book shop where he can order more books by Charles Lamb. He had found her address in a book, by Lamb, she once owned that is now his. Juliet writes back and in no time she is corresponding with Dawnsey and several other members of the Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society.

The Guernsey folks had started the society as a cover-up for a lie they had told to German soldiers when they were out after curfew. The truth was that they were eating a roast pig which they were not allowed to have. Charming and mysterious, right? Through their letters, Juliet learns little by little about what the Guernsey people's lives were like under the German soldiers during the war. Horror, dread, and serious concern with joy, laughter, and love snuck in. As Juliet comes to love the Guernsey people and feel like she knows them through their correspondence, so did I.

Juliet decides to write a book about the Guernsey people, which, of course, means she must go visit the island. Just before she goes off, the love that is in her life, essentially gives her an ultimatum in the form of a marriage proposal. He sees it as him versus Guernsey. To me, the question was whether Juliet would choose to live a life of hedonistic pleasure or a life unshallow?

My thoughts: I liked the story. Pure and simple. Near the beginning, I got confused about whether I was reading a novel or correspondence between actual people. And, even when I knew better, I still wondered.

The book has two authors. Ms. Shaffer is the main author. Unfortunately, she passed away before she was finished. Her niece, Ms. Barrows, an author herself, completed it for her. Since I have no idea who did what, I can only say that Ms. Barrows was successful.

FYI: This title fulfills both of these 2011 reading challenges in which I'm participating. They're both still open, if you're interested.

For more info,
click here.


Click here for more info.

Reality

2011-02-10T03:56:00.000-08:00


Today's letter is R. For more R posts, please click here.

I'm sure this happens to you.

You're walking along in the real outdoors. You know the type—where the landscaping was done by Mother Nature. Your being gets attuned with the reality of what's around you. The sky, the topography, the fauna, the flora. Beautiful, oh, so beautiful.

Then, maybe you move your head to the left or right. Or, perhaps a slight change in lighting occurs. Something shifts in some weird way that suddenly the natural scene takes on a different reality.

Do you see a dead stump or
a creepy figure with a rodent crawling up his body?

Do you see a small grove of old oak trees,
or a battle between foes just horribly ended?

Ah, maybe the reality is: You need to get more sleep.

Or, maybe the mama's sense is right: "You have too much imagination."

Book Review: Homicide in Hardcover

2011-02-08T00:12:00.000-08:00

Homicide in Hardcover by Kate Carlisle was a very fun and quick read. It's been a long while since I've read a book in one day. No, not all at once. I would've if I wasn't so responsible. Ha!

Brooklyn Wainwright is a bookbinder who lives in San Francisco. She attends a book event where she reunites with her mentor Abraham who had gotten miffed when Brooklyn decided to start her own business. An hour later, he is dead and Brooklyn becomes a suspect. She also is hired to complete the bookbinding job on a very old copy of Faust that Abraham was about to start working on. The copy supposedly has a curse on it and by all the misfortunes that fall on Brooklyn, it may be true. Brooklyn is worried that her mom may be the murderer, so she starts sleuthing on her own.

Thrown into the troubled mix is Derek, a handsome British security consultant who has been hired to protect the book. Lots of sparked dialogue go on between Brooklyn and Derek. Also, interesting to the tale is Brooklyn's parents, who still live in a commune. When the mom becomes stressed in the moment, she zones out everyone and everything around her by instantly chanting.

Homicide in Hardcover is the first title of Ms. Carlisle's Bibliophile Mystery series. When I finished it, I wished I had the next book in the series. So far three books have been published and another one will be coming out in May. I read at Ms. Carlisle's blog that the publisher plans to publish a title every six months. Wow.

FYI: This title fulfills both of these 2011 reading challenges in which I'm participating. They're both still open, if you're interested.

Click here for more info.

The Mama's Banana Grove

2011-02-06T01:58:00.000-08:00

A few weeks ago, the Mama and I cut back her banana trees and she stripped off the dried leaves. A banana blossom had actually made it through the frosty days. It was quite yummy.

The Mama decided to leave quite a lot of the trunks in tact. Usually, she likes to hack them almost to the ground. It shall be interesting to see how tall her tiny groves grows. Here's a close-up of how happy part of it looked last year.

Q is for Questioning

2011-02-03T02:15:00.000-08:00

Today's letter is Q.
For more Q posts,
click here.

A couple of letters ago, O to be exact, I griped about the high medical bills we got for the 10 stitches in the husband's finger at our local emergency department. They amounted to over $3,000 for about 45 minutes of medical attention. And, we were there for five hours. The doctor's bill was over $1,600. Man! I thought it would be about $300.

After getting the doctor's bill, we questioned all the charges, including the hospital's, which we had already paid. I talked with the emergency department director, who after trying to feed me the corporate line finally listened and understood my complaint. She became outraged at how much the emergency medical service, with which the hospital contracts, was charging. She told me that if we write a letter, she'd be sure to investigate our case.

So, that's what we did. We did our homework and learned that the contractor pays temporary emergency doctors who work at our hospital about $130 per hour. Why then did the company charge us $1,600 for the 25 minutes that the doctor spent with the husband? Makes your head spin, huh? Forget about saying supplies and equipment. That was covered in the hospital's bill.

The whole time we were sitting in the emergency department, the husband was applying pressure to his finger. Except for the intake nurse giving him a bandage, no other medical expert looked at his finger until the doctor saw him. So, how did the hospital come up with charging us over $900 for sitting on two chairs in the patient's room? Okay, occasionally, the husband sat on the bed.

We wrote a three-page letter with attached exhibits and sent our package to the hospital's gatekeeper of patients relations, as well as copies to the emergency department director, the hospital CEO, every member on the hospital board, and the contractor, which is based in Pennsylvania. You bet, we like to cover all our bases.

Yesterday, we got two results after a week's wait. First, the contractor slashed the doctor's bill by 40 percent. Hurrah!

Second, the medical director of the local emergency department spoke with the husband over the phone. It was a long conversation. The doctor's job, of course, was to tell us that the medical community is forced to follow the system in place. The husband firmly and calmly told the doctor that his answer was not acceptable. He let the medical director know that the local medical community needs to figure something to make their services affordable to patients, particularly those hurting financially in this economy. The hospital is the only game in town for emergencies, after all.

The husband also talked specifics, for which the medical director had no answers (yet), such as:

Why was there a redundancy of charges by the hospital and the contractor?
Why did it take so long for the husband to receive medical attention after he was placed in a patient's room?
Why does the contractor charge patients such high doctor rates?
Why did the hospital give us a 20 percent discount when its contractor gave us a 40 percent discount for the same emergency management level?

The husband thanked the medical director for calling, but he told the director that he wants the director's answers in writing. I'm so proud of the husband.

The moral of the story: We don't give in to something that we think is unfair. We have to question the institutions. How could we live with ourselves, otherwise?

P is for Pinakbet

2011-01-27T01:47:00.000-08:00

Today's letter is P.

Pinakbet. What a chicken says when it wants to gamble? Nope.

Pinakbet. An Ilocano dish with eggplant, bittermelon, tomatoes, and long beans? Yep, that's it. If I happen to have kabocha squash and/or okra, I'll throw some into the mix, too. Depending on my mood, I'll make it with or without pork. On rare occasions, I'll go classic and add a bit of bagoong (fermented, finely ground fish or shrimp). I say rare because that stuff is very salty. Click here for a photo of what pinakbet looks like.

How do you pronounce pinakbet? I say pin-auk-bit. But, you must realize that I don't have an Ilocano accent. Never had.

Pinakbet is one of my favorite dishes. When I was growing up, the mama cooked it often during the summer. Except for the onions and garlic, all the vegetables for the dish were freshly picked out of the daddy's garden. I have yet to eat a version that has topped or even come close to the mama's. And, now, the mama's pinakbet is a lovely memory. The dish has too many ingredients to prep that the mama is tired before she starts cooking it.

A few weeks ago, I had a yen for pinakbet and decided to make it when I saw a decent looking Italian eggplant at the grocery store. This essentially is what I threw together, adding some veggies that the mama froze last summer. (Note: Because I don't use salt, I add a lot of garlic.)

Ingredients

about 1/2 pound of pork, cut into 1/2-inch cubes
1 medium onion, sliced
5 garlic, minced
handful of chives, minced
1 can of cut tomatoes (I would've used 3 or 4 medium tomatoes, if I had fresh ones)
1 medium Italian eggplant, cut into 1-inch pieces (I think Japanese eggplant tastes better in pinakbet.)
1/2 kabocha squash, cut into 1-inch pieces
1 pint size bag of frozen long beans, cut into about 2-inch pieces (probably equivalent to 5/8 pound)
10 small frozen bittermelons
Black pepper to taste

What I Did

Brown the pork in a large sauce pan.
Add the onions and stir until softened.
Stir in the tomatoes, garlic, and chives. Also add black pepper to taste. Cover and simmer for a few minutes. (If I were to add bagoong, here's where I would stir in a solution made of about 1/8 teaspoon bagoong and 1/3 cup of water.)
Add the eggplant and squash. (Also add the bittermelon, if everyone will be eating it.) Add a 1/4 to 1/2 cup of water, if it looks like the food might burn. Cover the pan and simmer for about 5 minutes.
Add the long beans, and gently mix everything together. Cover the pan and simmer for about another five minutes. I know the dish is done when the eggplant and kabocha are cooked.
The husband cannot handle bittermelon, so I prepare the frozen bittermelon separately. I microwave it with some of the sauce from the pan for about 2 to 3 minutes. I then mix the bittermelon into the mama's and my bowls of pinakbet. I will also add salt to the mama's portion.

For "real" pinakbet recipes with precise portions, check out this recipe with pork or this one with shrimp.

To read other "P" posts in Alphabe-Thursday, hosted by Jenny Matlock, head over to here. I hope you do.

Book Review: Jane Eyre

2011-01-26T02:59:00.000-08:00

I didn't think it would be possible. That another book would bump Pride and Prejudice off the top of my all-time favorite list, and that it would be Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte.

To think that I let 40 years go by before I read Jane Eyre. Oh, the condensed version was assigned in high school, but I merely skimmed it. I probably didn't like the opening pages because Jane's sour rich Aunt and her bratty cousins rubbed me the wrong way. I was an impatient reader in my youth. If I didn't like a tale by the end of the first chapter, that was it for me. And most likely I thought Rochester was a simp and Jane one, too, for being in love with him.

So, what got me to finally read it? The BBC movie of Jane Eyre with Tobey Stephens and Ruth Wilson. After watching it a few years ago, I was sold on the plot and the characters so much that I bought the book. But, I didn't read it. A couple weeks ago, the movie was being shown again on TV. It was a two-parter and I couldn't bear to wait a week for the ending. So, I searched through my pile of books for it.

Wowza! The book was far better than the movie. Now, I understand why Jane Eyre is a classic tale that many people will read over and over. Heck, I read it twice last week.

Jane is my kind of woman. Feisty, independent, clear-minded, and passionate. There is much to learn from her. To forgive and forget. To take a stand for oneself. To love and be loved. To not be afraid to say and do what is in your heart. To walk away. To return.

I think Bronte was very brave to write and publish this book. It was the mid-1800s, and I wonder how many people were offended by her story. She wrote about a little girl who stands up against emotional and physical abuse and who grows up to seek adventure and the means to support herself rather than find a rich husband. Bronte also tackled such issues as the crass rich and the religious without heart. I am most surprised about how openly she wrote about men and their mistresses.

Do I still think Rochester is a simp? Yes. But, after seeing him through Jane's eyes, he is redeemed and I quite understand how she can be in love with him.

On my arbitrary scale of 1 to 5, Jane Eyre is a 5. I'm ready to read it again.

Jane Eyre is one of the books I'm reading for the Off the Shelf Challenge.

Book Review: Travels with Zenobia, Paris to Albania by Model T Ford

2011-01-26T01:44:00.000-08:00

Travels with Zenobia, Paris to Albania by Model T Ford, A Journal by Rose Wilder Lane and Helen Dore Boylston, and edited by William Holtz.

This book is the journal kept by two friends who travel from Paris to Albania. This is a true story about two women in 1926. Rose Wilder Lane was a well-known author of the times, who later would become known as one of the founders of the libertarian movement. You, dear readers, may also know Rose as the daughter of Laura Ingalls Wilder, the author of the Little House on the Prairie books. Rose's friend, Helen Dore Boylston, known as Troub, was also a writer, but during this time frame she was still learning her craft. Have you ever read any of the Sue Barton, Nurse series? They were written by Troub, who served as a nurse in WWI.

Zenobia is the name of the Model T Ford that Rose and Troub bought in Paris. Buying the automobile was easy, but getting it out of the showroom was not. It took about 6 weeks for them to get the proper paperwork and plates before they could legally drive it on the streets of Paris. Once they did, the women were on the road to Albania where they had rented a house. The women wrote about their daily travels through France and Italy in a journal for Rose's parents. Their different writing styles complimented each other. When each wrote about the same day or incident, I felt like I was getting a fuller picture of what Rose and Troub experienced.

While they were traveling through Italy, they were often asked if they were Germans. It was near the end of their time in Italy that they learned the reason why. Back then, only German women traveled without men in their parties. No doubt, it must've been unusual to see two independent women driving a brand-new car through Italian villages. I would think that would've been the case anywhere in the world at that time. Maybe still so today in some places.

The book was a fun read. I always like getting lost in time with real people. I was glad that Holtz, the editor of this book, added an introduction to prepare me into the world of Rose and Troub, as well as an aftermath of sorts to give me a sense of their time in Albania. On my arbitrary scale of 1 to 5, I would give this book a 4.129.

Book Challenges

This title fulfills these 2011 reading challenges in which I'm participating. They're both still open, if you're interested.

For info, click here.

Lessons Learned

2011-01-24T11:47:00.000-08:00

Yesterday was a 23rd date for the husband and me. The first of 2011. Our date was a pleasant ramble that developed and changed with the circumstances and, in so doing, we experienced many new things in our area. I don't know about the husband, but this newly old gal learned—and relearned—some new tricks.

For Instance. . .

When an waitress arches her eyebrows as we say that we're heading over to the area where she lives and she says it was covered with tule fog when she left for work that morning, take her a bit more seriously. The fog was so thick, we could've eaten it with a spoon. Really.

When the fog is too thick to continue safely onward with an adventure, come back another day. The husband and I easily concurred at our first stop—a picture taking opportunity with a golden bear—and drove back down the mountain and back into the sun. Slowly and meanderingly, we crossed our small valley to drive up the mountain on the other side of it.

When a state park's sign says Closed for the Season, but the road towards the entrance is open, explore it anyway. The gate was locked, but we found a small parking lot with a bathroom and some naturalist information about the area. It turns out that the tall mystical spire along highway 156 that is my landmark for finally having made it safely through Pacheco Pass was once a volcano on the bottom of a sea millions of years ago. It is called Lover's Leap. Now, I must learn why it's named that.

When our adventure is to ramble here and there, be open to suggestions of places to check out from each other.

Result of the wife's suggestion: We turned right on an unknown road and found a sanctuary for dogs and cats where we were given a tour and a chance to hang out with a bunch of contented cats.

Result of the husband's suggestion: We walked a new trail at Fremont Peak in San Juan Bautista that maybe took us near the epicenter of the bunch of earthquakes that rocked and rolled us for a few days a couple of weeks ago. And, oh, the odd sights we saw in the oak forest.

When my toe aches horribly as it pushes against the inside of my shoe while I trudge downhill, stop sooner to retie my shoe. Tighter!

When we enter a restaurant and I notice people look at us with alarm, I must gage the air of paranoia to determine if or when to take off my hat. Yes, the husband and I are bald again.

There were other lessons learned yesterday. Most of all, the best lesson for me: Our 23rd dates are about getting away from it all. I took some work with me, thinking that I might do some of it in the car as we drove between here and there, but I spent the time looking out the window and taking photos of this and that. From now on, no work allowed on our 23rd dates!

Ornery the Eighth, I am

2011-01-20T13:06:00.000-08:00

Today's letter is O.

A forewarning: I'm in an ornery and outraged mood. So, if you'd rather check out other "O" posts, I understand completely. Please click here to head over to Alphabe-Thursday, hosted by Jenny Matlock at Off on My Tanget.

The husband and I don't have health insurance. We're self-employed writers in our late 50s, so the cost of monthly health insurance payments would truly put us into deep debt. Fortunately for the past 10 years, we have been able to afford our medical bills and prescriptions, which comes to about a third of what it would be to pay for health insurance. Ornery, the first, about which I am.

Some people think we're taking a big risk by not having health insurance. What if, heaven forbid, one of us needs to go to the hospital? Ornery, the second, about which I am.

A few weeks ago, the husband and I spent five hours in the emergency department at our local hospital. Nothing major, as some of you, dear readers, know. After all was said and done, the husband went home with 10 stitches in his finger, which was cut deeply by a bathroom wall mirror that split in two. So, how much did we pay for the five hours at the emergency department of which about 30 minutes of medical attention was given?

The hospital bill was just over $1,300. Gulp. Ornery, the third, about which I am.

The physician who analyzed the x-ray asked for $28 to report that a very tiny sliver of glass was still in the finger. Thank you, doctor, for not charging us more.

The ER doctor who prepped and treated the husband's finger has yet to send us a bill. Hopefully, it will be less than $200.

The husband went to our regular doctor to have the stitches removed. Cost was $62. Here's an interesting aside for you. The doctor spent about 10 minutes with the husband. On his regular quarterly visits, the husband sees the doc for two to five minutes, who checks his blood pressure, listens to his heart, goes over his blood test results, and orders more blood tests to monitor the husband's vital organs. Cost for those visits, between $110 and $200, depending on the number and type of blood tests. Ornery, the fourth, about which I am.

Yesterday, we went to pay the hospital bill. We decided to put it on our credit card rather than jump through hoops to get the documentation to show that we are not eligible for MediCal in order to qualify to pay monthly installments to the hospital. Did you get that? Ornery, the fifth, about which I am.

We were given a 20 percent discount. Huh? The woman at the emergency desk told us that the hospital gives no discounts to self-payers. We could pay monthly though. Fine. Several days later, the husband talked with someone in the hospital's billing office. He confirmed that there were no discounts and he could pay monthly, but only if he did not qualify for MediCal. We already knew that individually or jointly, we weren't eligible, and after reading all the documents that we would need to provide to prove we weren't qualified, well, you get the picture. The least grouchy road was to pay the hospital bill by credit card. Ornery, the sixth, about which I am.

Don't get me wrong, we are very grateful to get the discount. But, I will not be surprised if we get a letter from the hospital saying that they were in error and we still owe them money.

And, yes, I do have a positive spin on all of this: We were not waiting in emergency to be treated for something very major. Still, it is outrageous to pay over $1,000 for 10 tiny stitches. Ornery, the seventh, about which I am.

Non sequitur: The Republicans in the House of Representatives are selfish! They wasted our money to make an obtuse statement to repeal the health insurance reform law. They say they want to replace it with something better. Okay, then, introduce and pass amendments to improve that law, not reinvent the wheel in which they chose not to participate in the first place. Don't even get me started me about how some congresspeople want to deny us, Americans, from receiving the same type of health care benefits that we pay for them to get. Ornery, the eighth, about which I am.

1/21/11 Update: We received the doctor's bill this afternoon. $1,629 for 10 stitches and 30 minutes of treatment!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

N is for Naysayer

2011-01-13T01:07:00.000-08:00

Brrrrrrrrrrrr.

Temperatures have been dipping into the 30s and 40s the past month. Ha! So what! says this blooming rose in the Mama's garden.

Head over to Alphabe-Thursday, hosted by Jenny Matlock, to read other N posts.

Z is for Ziplining

2011-01-12T01:52:00.000-08:00

Mt. Hermon Redwood Canopy Tours

Oh boy!

Because this week's ABC Wednesday (hosted by Mrs. Nesbitt) features the letter Z, I can blather about ziplining again.

Ziplining through the redwoods in the Santa Cruz mountains, as some of you dear readers know, is what I did for my birthday last month. I hung happily in a harness from a pulley attached to a cable about 13 stories high. When it was safely time to go, the guide slightly nudged me forward and I was gliding quickly along that cable through the redwood forest to the next platform. Swhooooooooooosh!

This is the equipment I wore.

The zip lines ranged from 110 to 440 feet long. Waiting for my turn was longer than the ride between the platforms. Exhilarating really is the perfect word to describe how it feels to dangle from a pulley and ziiiiiiiiiip among the trees. The initial fear was gone after completing the first zip line. Yep, that tiny simple machine of a pulley can really hold me up. I may have swayed in my harness as I rushed forward, but I did not haphazardly crash into the trees like I thought could happen. And, yes, I was quite able to stop myself at the end of the ride, thank you very much.

The highlighted area is the next platform.

Braking was nothing more than putting one of your leather-gloved palms flat against the cable above you. You start braking only when you see the guide signal you to start slowing down. You press your palm ever so lightly on the cable. If you press too much, you find yourself several yards short of the platform. I did that on the first zipline. No problem. I quickly turned myself around and pulled myself in. That was fun, too.

Nope, not me. T'was our guide.

The platforms that we zipped to and from were built sturdily around redwood trees, which if I remember correctly were all second growth redwood trees. Whenever we were on the platforms, we were clipped in so there really was no danger of falling off. Well, we could fall, but we would be dangling only a few feet below the platform. Not that I was going to test it. Okay, maybe the thought passed through my mind.

I'm starting to think that maybe being up in the air is where I like to be. As a kid, I liked climbing trees. The favorite part of my one time of rock climbing, a long time ago, was stopping midway on the cliff and looking around at the vista. I did tandem skydiving a few years ago and enjoyed it immensely. I'd do that again. Ziplining? I'm already looking for another place to try out. Wieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

Now zip on over to ABC Wednesday to find more Z posts by other bloggers.

Book Review: The Lost Symbol

2011-01-11T01:48:00.000-08:00

The Lost Symbol by Dan Brown is the third novel featuring Robert Langdon, a professor of religious symbology. Just over 500 pages, the story takes place within 12 hours. On my random scale of 1 to 5, I give it an arbitrary 2.039.

Robert Langdon has been summoned suddenly to give a speech for his friend and mentor, Peter Solomon, at the Capitol building in Washington D.C. It turns out to be a ruse set up by bad guy Mal'akh who has kidnapped Solomon. To get Solomon back, Langdon must provide Mal'akh with the Masonic Pyramid that leads to finding the Masonic treasure buried beneath Washington D.C. Also key to the story are Solomon's younger sister, a noetic scientist, the CIA, and, of course, the Freemasons.

For a fast-action plot, the story moved slowly for me. I didn't care for any of the characters, including Langdon. The back story for Mal'akh and his obsession with the Solomon family got tiring, but I do admit that I was surprised with the final details.

I thought there were two endings to the story. Catching the bad guy and finding out who he really was and his motives for murder, kidnapping, and all around evil mayhem was the first ending. The final 100 pages was about the mystery of the Masonic pyramid. If anything, The Lost Symbol made me want to learn more about whether and how the Freemasons may have influenced our country's Founding Fathers.

The Lost Symbol is one of the books I'm reading for the Off the Shelf Challenge.

Book Review: Glazed Murder

2011-01-10T17:50:00.000-08:00

Glazed Murder by Jessica Beck is the first title in her A Donut Shop Mystery series. I wish the author had used the old way of spelling the delicacy. D-o-u-g-h-n-u-t. That aside, on my random scale of 1 to 5, I'd give Glazed Murder an arbitrarily 3.703.

Suzanne Hart is the main character of this mystery series. She's definitely a spunky woman. After all, she took her divorce settlement and bought the doughnut shop in her small North Carolina town, even though she had no experience in making or selling doughnuts.

The story opens with Suzanne turning on the lights of her shop at 2 a.m. She witnesses a body being thrown out of a car in front of her establishment. What a way to start a day, right? The dead body belongs to a good customer and friend of hers. That becomes one reason that Suzanne starts snooping. Another reason is her concern the culprit may try to get her because of the threats she keeps getting for snooping. Thirdly, from her point of view, the cops are very slow at solving the case and she thinks the chief doesn't like her because her mom turned him down. Of course.

Adding to the tension is Suzanne's ex-husband who believes she should forgive him already for cheating on her. He loves her, he misses her, and it was only one time, he says, and that's why Suzanne should take him back. He also becomes jealous when a state police investigator shows interest in Suzanne.

I have read so many cozy mysteries, I can usually figure out who did what before I get halfway through a story. Then curiosity takes hold and I read the ending to find out if I am right. If the story is good, I'll go back and finishing reading forward. I didn't do that with Glazed Murder. The author threw in so many red herrings, I couldn't guess who the murderer was. Yay! Me thinks I'll read another one of Suzanne's gumshoe adventures.

Ms. Beck gives 11 recipes, most of which are for doughnuts, including one for a baked doughnut that I want to try to make. And, yes, I wanted to eat a doughnut every time I put the book down. Probably would have if I wasn't going to sleep. Nope, I didn't dream of doughnuts.

P.S. This title fulfills both of these 2011 reading challenges in which I'm participating. They're both still open, if you're interested.

Click here for information.

For more info, click here.

Random rambling

2011-01-07T14:20:00.000-08:00

I've been feeling muddle-headed lately. Too many brain lapses. Quite a lot of pressing of the delete button. Sigh. So, bear with me, dear readers, as I ramble forward to clear my mind with random thoughts.

Random thought number one. Big birds (maybe the doves) splatted big time on the side of the car and the driveway. Very rude! Especially since we leave bird seeds out every day.

Random thought number two. The husband got a surprise check for $100 yesterday. It was part of a cash settlement in a class action law suit against a large drug distributor that was alleged to have set drug prices wrongfully high. The husband had no idea it was taking place. The company settled rather than go to court because it would be cheaper to pay $350 million today. In settling, the company does not formally admit to wrongdoing. That part is what always astounds me about corporations that get away with crime.

Random thought number three. I have publishing deadlines over the next two years. I hope I can maintain blogging at the same time as I write about occupations in aviation, law enforcement, education, and engineering. Ouch, my brain!

Random thought number four. I borrowed a friend's sewing machine a month ago. It's still sitting on the hope chest in the hallway unused.

Random thought number five. Yesterday, the mama harvested a banana blossom, as she was cutting the dead leaves from the banana plants. She said that it was protected by the dried leaves so it hadn't frozen. Amazing!

Random though number six. I really appreciate the husband making morning coffee and washing dishes. With his finger in stitches, I've had to do his chores. Only a few more days to go.

Random thought number seven. The tiny birds (maybe sparrows) are frolicking in the front yard as they fly from feeder to feeder to fence to tree to the neighbor's shrubs where they're nesting. Their singing fills the air. We are blessed!

So, am I feeling less muddle-headed? The noggin does feel a little bit lighter, thank you very much dear readers for being a captive audience.

Onward, I go. . . .

I'm participating in the Follow Friday 40 and Over meme, sponsored by Java at Never Growing Old. Click here to check out what other bloggers are writing today.

M is for Making It!

2011-01-06T01:09:00.000-08:00

Today's letter is "M."

Exactly a year ago the husband and I shaved our hair completely off to see how long it would grow in one year. Our experiment is officially over. The husband says our hair grew about six inches.

The husband (obviously!). . .

. . .and me—Su-sieee! Mac (also quite obviously!)

For the last two months or so, the husband has received comments about how he looks like ZZ Top. Maybe.

No comments for me. At least not to my face. I'd say I look like I'm in need for a hair cut. The overgrown bangs are driving me nuts, big time.

"Will we shave it again?" ask our friends.

We don't know.

The husband is wondering how long it would take for his beard to grow to the middle of his tummy.

I liked my bald look. It was easy to handle. But if I keep it growing, I might just dye it either an Anne Shirley carrot-top red or the golden brown of a lion's mane.

We shall see.

Today also marks a milestone for This and That. Here and There. Now, Sometimes, Then. It is exactly one year old! Whoo-hooo! I really didn't think I would keep it going. Let's see how the next year goes.

To read "M" posts by other bloggers at Alphabe Thursday,
hosted by Jenny Matlock, click here!

Trivia: Yes and You

2011-01-05T09:54:00.000-08:00

Y is the letter for this week's ABC Wednesday. So, here is a bit of trivia about two words we use a lot.

Yes
A long time ago, when you answered "Yes" to a negative question, you were really saying "No." For example, if someone asked, "You don't want to die, do you?" The other person replied, "Yes!" To reply affirmatively to a question, one said "Yea." How very confusing, no?

You
The word you comes from Old English. Back then, people had a singular and plural form for you. When addressing a specific person, they used thou, as "Thou sings well." When talking to more than one person, out came the you: "You (all) sing well."

As Old English moved forward into modern English times, people began to use you as a form of respect for talking to strangers and for those they considered socially higher than them. The use of thou, contrary to how we think of it today, was for familiar use. "Hey, thou! How's it going?"

Yawn. . . . I wonder how that word came to be. Could it somehow be related to the word yon?

To read other Y posts by ABC Wednesday participants, click here. But, wouldn't you like to check out the George Harrison song, "You," first?

Out with the Old!

2011-01-02T23:20:00.000-08:00

Reflections, March 2010

It has been three days that we've been without a mirror in the bathroom. Not that I look at the mirror that much, but still I am surprised when I look over the sink and see a yellowish wall. That's another surprise. Without the mirror, both the husband and I realize that off-yellow is the color of our bathroom walls. These past seven years, we thought we were looking at dingy off-white walls.

So, what happened to the mirror?

First, you need to know that ants invaded the bathroom last Thursday. The damn ants actually knocked out a bit of tile from a corner of the sink. That day, they kept scooting from behind the cabinet that rests on the counter.

The husband's stitches!

That night, just after 11 p.m., the husband decided to pull the cabinet forward so he could get at the ants. The next thing we knew, the mirror slipped, broke diagonally, and as the top part fell, it sliced through the husband's right forefinger in two places. Deep enough to cut who knows how many veins in the finger. OUCH!

We each did our best acting maturely calm and cool so the other wouldn't go bazonkers. Within ten minutes we dressed ourselves and, within the speed limit, drove to the emergency room without any stressful growling at each other. Fortunately, the hospital is only a few minutes away. After all was said and done, the husband received 10 stitches in his finger. OUCH!

Our total time there was five hours. OUCH!

The place was full when we arrived so it took over an hour for one of the seven treatment rooms to become available. We waited an hour for the doctor to see the husband, another hour for a technician to x-ray his finger, and then another hour for the doctor to return. The process of cleaning and sewing his finger took about 20 to 25 minutes, and, after that, we waited about another 30 minutes for him to be discharged.

We don't have health insurance so it'll be a triple OUCH! when we get the bills. Hopefully, not one OUCH! more.

It was a good call to go to the emergency room. Our doctor had closed his shop on Friday. We discovered that when the husband called to make an appointment to remove the stitches in 10 days. Yep. Guess who doesn't have to wash dishes for 10 days?

You know that saying, "Breaking a mirror is seven years bad luck"? I don't believe it. Neither does the husband. If anything, I see the loss of the mirror at the end of 2010 as making way for new and wonderful changes in 2011, at least in the bathroom.

Happy New Year, Dear Readers! I wish each and every one of you strength and wonder, joy and happiness, and peace and love, as you travel another year around the sun!

Off the Shelf Challenge

2011-01-01T13:46:00.000-08:00

Me thinks I could become a reading-challenge addict. I have forced myself to stop reading about yet another challenge to attempt for no other purpose then claiming at the end of the year that "I done did it!" So, Off the Shelf Challenge is absolutely the last reading challenge that I'll be joining to help motivate me to complete my 2011 Reading List.

The Off the Shelf Challenge is hosted by Dutchie, from Australia who blogs at Bookish Ardour. The motive behind this challenge is to help participants finally read some of the books that have been growing dust (cough, cough) on their shelves. The challenge runs throughout 2011 and you can sign up at anytime. There are seven reading levels from which to choose—Tempted, Trying, Making a Dint, On a Roll, Flying Off, Hoarder, and Buried. FYI: The Buried participants plan to read between 126 and 200 books! For more details of the Off the Shelf Challenge, click here.

I've chosen to participate at the On a Roll level, which involves reading 50 books. To come up with my titles for this challenge I'm not counting the children's books on my list, nor the book I've just finished reading. Hence, here's my list for the Off the Shelf Challenge in general order of the thickness of dust on their covers:

About 10 years or more waiting patiently to be read

Around the World with a King by William N. Armstrong
Six Months in the Sandwich Islands by Isabella L. Bird
The Lives and Times of Archy & Mehitabel by Don Marquis
The Octopus by Frank Norris
America and Americans by John Steinbeck

At least 5 years on the shelves

A Dog's Life by Peter Mayle
Roughing It by Mark Twain

Two to five years sitting around

Bad-Ass Faeries edited by Danielle Ackley-McPhail, L. Jagi Lamplighter, Lee Hillman, and Jeff Lyman
The Demise of Luleta Jones by Mark Allen Boone
Kitchen Confidential: Adventures in the Culinary Underbelly by Anthony Bourdain
Size 14 is Not Fat Either by Meg Cabot
Oscar and Lucinda by Peter Carey
Next by Michael Crichton
My Life in France by Julia Child with Alex Prud'homme
Queen of the Flowers by Kerry Greenwood
I Dreamed I Married Perry Mason by Susan Kandel
The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo by Stieg Larsson
Gentleman Soldier: John Clifford Brown and the Philippine-American War edited, with an introduction by Joseph P. McCallus
Under the Tuscan Sun by Frances Mayes
Cape Perdido by Marcia Muller
The Audacity of Hope by Barack Obama
East of the Gabilans by Marjorie Pierce
Nightcrawlers by Bill Pronzini
Naked Pictures of Famous People by Jon Stewart
America (The Book): A Citizen's Guide to Democracy in Action written and edited by Jon Stewart, Ben Karlin, and David Javerbaum
The Clovis Incident by Pari Noskin Taichert
Jane Austen, A Life by Claire Tomalin
Field Guide to Mysterious Places of the Pacific Coast by Salvatore M. Trento
A Little Too Much Is Enough by Kathleen Tyou
Behold the Many by Lois-Ann Yamanaka

Only The Past Year

Over the Edge of the World: Magellan's Terrifying Circumnavigation of the Globe by Laurence Bergreen
Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte
The Lost Symbol by Dan Brown
Daughter of Persia: A Woman's Journey From Her Father's Harem Through the Islamic Revolution by Sattareh Farman Farmaian with Dona Munker
The Dress Lodger by Sheri Holman
Lake Wobegon Days by Garrison Keillor
The Heretic's Daughter by Kathleen Kent
The Kitchen God's Wife by Amy Tan

My Birthday Gifts

The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie by Alan Bradley
Homicide in Hardcover by Kate Carlisle
Founding Brothers, The Revolutionary Generation by Joseph J. Ellis
Mr. Monk is Cleaned Out by Lee Goldberg
Last Night in Twisted River by John Irving
Locked In by Marcia Muller
At Swim–Two–Birds by Flann O'Brien
Dress Your Family in Corduroy and Denim by David Sedaris
The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society by Mary Ann Shaffer and Annie Barrows
A Night Too Dark by Dana Stabenow
How to Crash a Killer Bash by Penny Warner
Travels with Zenobia, Paris to Albania by Model T Ford, A Journal by Rose Wilder Lane and Helen Dore Boylston, edited by William Holtz

What's in a Name Challenge!

2010-12-31T22:24:00.000-08:00

What? Yet another reading challenge?

Uh, but this is a neat one. What's in a Name Challenge! tests participants to find and read books that fit its six different categories. And, these are thinking-outside-of-the-box categories. For instance, one category is called "a book with a number in the title." Interesting, no? Participants only need to read one book in each category, and we have all of 2011 to complete the quest.

This challenge is hosted by Beth Fish who blogs at Beth Fish Reads. For more details about the What's in a Name Challenge!, click here.

As usual, I already have my list of titles for the challenge, culled from my 2011 Reading List. Here you go:

A book with a number in the title: At Swim-Two-Birds by Flann O'Brien
A book with jewelry or a gem in the title: The Clue of the Broken Locket by Carolyn Keene
A book with a size in the title: A Little Too Much Is Enough by Kathleen Tyou
A book with travel or movement in the title: Travels with Zenobia, Paris to Albania by Model T Ford: A Journal by Rose Wilder Lane and Helen Dore Boylston, edited by William Holtz
A book with evil in the title: Bad-Ass Faeries edited by Danielle Ackley-McPhail, L. Jagi Lamplighter, Lee Hillman, and Jeff Lyman
A book with a life stage in the title: I Dreamed I Married Perry Mason by Susan Kandel

It's less than 2 hours until 2011 yawns aloud in my time zone. Happy New Year, dear readers!

Foodie's Reading Challenge for 2011

2010-12-31T20:48:00.000-08:00

I like to read cookbooks. Reading recipes is often times just as creatively satisfying as preparing them. So, it isn't surprising when I tell you that I also like to read stories and memoirs that revolve around food. Uh-huh. What better reading challenge for this joyous aspect of reading then the...wait for it... Foodie's Reading Challenge hosted by Margot who blogs Joyfully Retired.

Like most reading challenges, participants choose their own goals. The Foodie's Reading Challenge has five levels—Nibbler, Bon Vivant, Epicurean, Gourmet, and Glutton. For more details about this challenge, head over to here.

My goal is to complete the Bon Vivant level. These are the books I hope to read for the challenge. Yes, indeed, they are part of my list of 70. For those of you who are new to me, you can click here for my personal reading throw down.

Glazed Murder: A Donut Shop Mystery by Jessica Beck
Kitchen Confidential: Adventures in the Culinary Underbelly by Anthony Bourdain
My Life in France by Julia Child with Alex Prud'homme
The Kitchen God's Wife by Amy Tan
The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society by Mary Ann Shaffer and Annie Barrows
Under the Tuscan Sun by Frances Mayes

Hometown Challenge

2010-12-31T16:23:00.000-08:00

Who doesn't like to read books about her hometown or region?

Okay, maybe not you over there. But, for everyone else with their arms up, here's a reading challenge you'll like. Simply called Hometown Challenge, it's hosted by Kris who blogs at Not Enough Books and Outwardly Pleasant. She also hosts the annual Cozy Mystery Challenge that starts in April, which I did last year.

The Hometown Challenge started in September and runs through the end of August 2011. Anyone can sign-up any time before August 1, 2011. There are four levels to the challenge—Tourist, Relocation, Local, and Founder. Kris's rules are quite flexible, so if a person lives in a small town, such as I do, she can choose books that take place in her county or nearby big cities. For more details about this reading challenge, click here.

I'm electing to read books only that take place in my town and county—Hollister (San Benito County) California. Being a small city and county, I'm aiming to complete the tourist level, which is one to two books. My two, which, of course, are on my 2011 Reading List. are:

East of the Gabilans by Marjorie Pierce
The Octopus by Frank Norris

Hollister, California

Cruisin' thru the Cozies Reading Challenge 2011

2010-12-31T15:26:00.000-08:00

When it comes to me seeking reading challenges, it's a given that I will search for a cozy mystery challenge. Success! If you're into cozy mysteries and reading challenges, check out Cruisin' thru the Cozies Reading Challenge 2011 hosted by Yvonne who blogs Socrates' Book Review.

The challenge runs from January to December, 2011. Participants can choose one of three levels—snoop, investigator, and super sleuth—for which to aim. For more details about the Cruisin' thru the Cozies Reading Challenge, click here. Not sure what a cozy mystery is? Then click over to Cozy-Mystery.com.

I'm signing up for the "investigator" level, which means I will need to read between 7 and 12 cozy mystery titles. My goal for the challenge is to read the 11 titles listed below in alphabetical order, which are part of my 2011 Reading List.

Glazed Murder: A Donut Shop Mystery by Jessica Beck
Size 14 is Not Fat Either by Meg Cabot
Homicide in Hardcover by Kate Carlisle
Mr. Monk is Cleaned Out by Lee Goldberg
Queen of the Flowers by Kerry Greenwood
I Dreamed I Married Perry Mason by Susan Kandel
Cape Perdido by Marcia Muller
Locked In by Marcia Muller
A Night Too Dark by Dana Stabenow
The Clovis Incident by Pari Noskin Taichert
How to Crash a Killer Bash by Penny Warner

The 2011 TBR Pile Challenge

2010-12-30T19:49:00.000-08:00

The 2011 TBR (to be read) Pile Challenge is one of several reading challenges I will join this year. This challenge is hosted by the Roof Beam Reader aka Adam who says that he is "one of the 5% minority - a male book blogger!"

The goal of this challenge, according to the Roof Beam Reader, is "to finally read 12 books from your 'to be read' pile, within 12 months." All 12 books that a participant reads must have been on her shelf for at least one year. Tomorrow is the deadline for signing up, which involves listing the 12 titles to be read and, if desired, two alternate titles in case one can't stand reading one or two books on her list. To learn more about the TBR Pile Challenge, click here.

Here are my 12 titles in ABC order, with publication dates for the Roof Beam Reader. Sink or swim, I'm reading them, so no alternates for me. Will I regret that? We shall see.

Around the World with a King by William N. Armstrong (1995)
Six Months in the Sandwich Islands by Isabella L. Bird (1998)
Size 14 is Not Fat Either by Meg Cabot (2008)
The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo by Stieg Larsson (English translation 2008)
Under the Tuscan Sun by Frances Mayes (1996)
Cape Perdido by Marcia Muller (2005)
The Audacity of Hope by Barack Obama (2006)
Nightcrawlers by Bill Pronzini (2005)
America and Americans by John Steinbeck (1968)
The Clovis Incident by Pari Noskin Taichert (2004)
Roughing It by Mark Twain (1962)
Behold the Many by Lois-Ann Yamanaka (2006)

Reading for Fun 2011

2010-12-30T18:04:00.000-08:00

"Don't read so much," the mama said to me, standing in my doorway. "You'll go crazy."

She said that to me a long time ago when as a kid I had again lain too long on my bed reading yet another book. I'm sure what she meant was something like "Go play outdoors!" Did I lay my book down and go outside? I doubt it.

Since the husband and I moved to Hollister seven summers ago, I haven't done much book reading for fun. Most of my reading has been research for work. I want to change that in 2011. The last few days, I've been pulling books from the bookshelves and the various book piles throughout the house. Those plus the ones I got for my last birthday come up to 70 books.

Soooooo, I shall be reading 70 books in 2011. It's not so bad though. About a third of them are children's books, which is still one of my favorite types of books to read. To see my list of 70, please click here.

To make my reading quest even more fun, as well as to help motivate me, I shall participate in reading challenges sponsored by reading-loving bloggers. I'll be doing individual posts about the different challenges, tout de suite. Until then, have a listen to Claude Bolling performing "Just One of Those Things." No connection at all to my reading list. I just like the song and Mr. Bolling.

Shopping for the Unknown X's

2010-12-29T12:52:00.000-08:00

Today's letter is "X."

Last week, I told you that the husband and I decided to have some fun with the xmas presents for each other. Exaggerating the use of the mathematical terms, it went like this:

$10.00 = total expense we each would spend

x ≥ 5 presents (In other words, 5 or more gifts)

How did we do?

Excellently!

X-wise, we found that x = Six exceptional gifts!

We shopped downtown, going in opposite directions. Amazingly, we each finished before the time allowed: 60 minutes – x minutes = 45 minutes

My expenses: $9.95. At the thrift store, I found a Michael Crichton novel and a booklet about Oregon caves, which was published in the era when the husband worked there during the summers of his college days. Because the husband is a visual artist, I purchased water colors and a couple of brushes at the art supply store. (Hint, hint, the husband.) At our favorite drugstore, I bought Post-it notes for his note-taking and a box of Milk Duds for the next time we go to the movies.

My shopping spree ended at the first store that the husband entered. The husband, being exact, tackled his quest by thinking $2 per present. Both he and the lovely Carol at the shop came up empty with ideas, so she suggested that he go to the 99-cent store on the side of town where I was. The clever husband walked the back streets so I wouldn't see him. When Carol told me, I happened to notice stickers and ribbons (like the ribbons they award at county fairs). "If the husband comes back, you could suggest these," I said, pointing to the rack. "Sure," she said. "Which ones?" "Oh, he'll know."

I felt sorry for the husband because shopping is such a dreaded activity for him. Not anymore. The man did extremely well for himself! His expenses: He had more than $2 in change left over. Hello!

At the 99-cent store, the husband bought a package of bamboo spatulas (which I really need), a bag of Cracker Jacks (my snack for the movies), a green plastic poncho (that can expand to fit both of us), jacks (remember them?), and a toy echo microphone. Even the mama had fun talking into the microphone, which reminded her of the cans-and-string telephone from her childhood. That got the husband and me wondering if we could set up such a system in the house. When we mentioned that to the husband's brother, he said, "Yes, that's called wireless."

The husband found the sixth present at the thrift store where I had found his books. He said he just happened to turn in an aisle and there it was. A true bargain, 25 cents! And, it is the best present I have ever gotten!! I am not exaggerating at all!!!

So, what is it already?

Look for yourself: The extra-charming straw cowboy hat with a red sheriff's badge! Whoo-hooo!

The husband and I enjoyed the quest so much, we're going to do it again next year. Life is exquisite!

Today, I'm hooking up at ABC Wednesday, hosted by Mrs. Nesbitt. The letter of the week is "X." Did you notice? Click on this x to check out other "X" posts.

Result: The All Things Alcott Challenge

2010-12-28T12:45:00.000-08:00

Back in November, I signed up for the All Things Alcott Challenge. Because it was during the last six weeks on the challenge, my goal would be to read one book by or about Louisa May Alcott. I'm sorry to say that I didn't make my objective. I read the Wikipedia article about Ms. Alcott's life and read one short story, "An Old-Fashioned Thanksgiving."

The Wikipedia article about Ms. Alcott is a great introduction to her fascinating life. Here are five facts about her:

Ms. Alcott was born on her father's birthday. Her father was Amos Bronson Alcott, one of the founders of American Transcendentalism.
One of Ms. Alcott's teachers was Henry David Thoreau, author of Civil Disobedience.
She wrote novels that Wikipedia describes as "passionate, fiery novels and sensational stories," which perhaps would be categorized today as Chick Lit.
The character "Laurie" in Little Women may have been based on Ladislas Wisniewski, a young Polish man she met on one of her travels through Europe. According to some Alcott fans and experts, he was Ms. Alcott's romantic affair.
Ms. Alcott was the first woman to register to vote in Concord, Massachusetts.

Some of Ms. Alcott's works can be read for free online. You can find "An Old-Fashioned Thanksgiving" here. I am amazed that I hadn't ever read it before. It's the kind of old-fashioned story that should've made it into the elementary school textbooks that I read for English classes.

"An Old-Fashioned Thanksgiving" was a delightful story about a poor family who made do gratefully with what they had and dropped everything to take care of important matters. The story opens with the mother and her children preparing pies and such for the next day's Thanksgiving meal. Then word comes that the mother's mother has taken deathly ill. She and the father head off immediately, leaving the two older children, in their early teens, in charge of the six younger ones. The next day, the children decide to go ahead and make the Thanksgiving meal so that it's ready for their father when he returns home. Never having cooked a fancy meal on their own is the challenge. Also weaved into the tale is a bit of fright in the form of a bear. The ending is a surprise for everyone in the story, and for the reader.

Merry Christmas!

2010-12-25T01:38:00.000-08:00

I almost forgot to post a Christmas song. The husband and I just finished wrapping presents. Yes, I know.

Anyway, I've accomplished my goal: Post a Christmas song a day until Christmas. Here's the list of the past 24 Christmas songs that I've posted (I'm too pooped to give you links. Sorry. But, click here to go to the 25 Christmas Songs category:

"Christmas Time is Here Again" performed by the Beatles
"Jingle Bells" sung by Ella Fitzgerald
"Santa Claus is Coming to Town" sung by Bruce Springsteen
"I Want A Hippopotamus for Christmas" performed by Gayla Peevey
"Mele Kalikimaka!" sung by Bing Crosby
"Jingle Bells" performed by Glenn Miller and Orchestra
"Carol of the Bells" performed by Jake Shimabukuro
"Up on the Housetop" sung by Gene Autrey
"Oh Come, Oh Come Emmanuel" performed by Randy Granger
"Rockin Around the Christmas Tree" sung by Brenda Lee
"O Holy Night" sung by Enrico Caruso
"Peace on Earth" and "Little Drummer Boy" performed by Jack Black and Jason Segal
"Holly Jolly Christmas" sung by Burl Ives
"That's What I Want for Christmas" sung by Shirley Temple
"Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer" sung by Ray Charles
"Sleigh Ride" performed by the Glenn Miller Orchestra
"It's Christmas Time at the Railway Station" performed by the Juke Box Band
"Feliz Navidad" sung by Jose Feliciano
"Silver Bells" performed by Twisted Sister
"Thank God It's Christmas" performed by Queen
"Solstice Bells" performed by Jethro Tull
"God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen" and "We Three Kings" performed by Barenaked Ladies
"A 'Soalin'" sung by Peter, Paul, and Mary
"Deck the Halls" performed by Saulo Couto

Today's song is "So This is Christmas" performed by John Lennon and the Plastic Ono Band with the Harlem Community Choir. Merry Christmas!

The Mystery of the Christmas Presents

2010-12-24T01:15:00.000-08:00

Sitting on our doorstep are two Christmas bags that someone left on our doorstep. The husband and I found it when we came home yesterday evening. Somebody must've come by when the mama was sweeping leaves in her garden. We brought them in and looked for tags to identify the givers. One said "Delsa" and the other said "Happy Thanksgiving."

Obviously, someone left the presents at the wrong house. So, of course the husband and I headed back outside and knocked on a few neighbors' doors. No luck at all. Nobody was home at the house where we think the intended giftee lives. And, the other neighbors couldn't help us. All we can do is try again come morning.

We set the presents on the doorstep in case the ones who left them finally realize they got the wrong house and come back for them. I surely hope they do. The paranoid part of me wonders if the presents contain contraband or a bomb. But, I suppose if it was the latter, we would've heard something ticking. Heck, it would've blown up by now. If we can't find the owners or nobody comes to pick them up, I suppose we'll take them to the police department. What would you do?

I don't know which is the strangest thing that has happened this year at home: These mysterious presents or the solicitation back in May. What do you think?

Today's Christmas song is "Deck the Halls," performed by Saulo Couto. The video also treats us to Mickey Mouse clips. As for today's linky party, I'm hopping around at Never Growing Old: Follow Friday 40 and Over! Come join me. Merry Christmas!

The Final 23rd Date of 2010

2010-12-23T00:34:00.000-08:00

Later today, the husband and I will be off on our twelfth 23rd date. I admit that I'm impressed that we did honor last year's Christmas gift to each other. Every 23rd of the month, we dropped everything and took off for an afternoon or a whole day. We drove back roads we've always wanted to explore. We hiked unfamiliar parks, strolled along beaches, and wandered in nearby cities. When it rained, we took ourselves to movies and, on one occasion, to the Egyptian museum. I wrote about some of our adventures, which you can find here, if you're interested.

Our final 23rd date of the year will be a shopping adventure. Yep, shopping. The activity the husband probably dislikes to do the most. But, it is time for us to do some Christmas shopping for each other, so why not on our 23rd date. To make it fun, we made a few rules.

We can only spend $10. Uh-huh, ten bucks, including taxes.
We must purchase at least 5 items for each other.
No handmade items allowed.
Handmade coupons for perishable items (such as food or flowers) to be bought later are allowed. The item and price, including tax, has to be written on the coupon.
We can only buy presents in our county. There are only two small cities in this county, folks.
We must complete our shopping in a town or store within an agreed time limit, which we will determine before we each go our separate ways in the town or store.

He-he. Fun, yes? In case you're wondering, we are giving ourselves the gift of 23rd dates in 2011, too. I love my life with the husband!

Today's Christmas song is from Peter, Paul, and Mary—"A 'Soalin'." Enjoy!

ABC and Outdoor Wednesday: Winter

2010-12-22T01:48:00.000-08:00

Today letter is "W."

This is what winter looks like in my part of the world. These are the low mountains of the Diablo Range that makes up the eastern border of my town and county. (Check out my other blog, Take 25 to Hollister, if you'd like to know more about my town.) We've had a few rainy days during the last few weeks, which to me means that everything is starting to get green again.

Yes, I'm spoiled. Winter in my area is mild compared to the Sierras, the Midwest, New England, Alaska, Europe, and other places that get lots and lots of snow, and sometimes blizzards. I really can't imagine living a full winter in such cold. Now and then, snow covers the mountain tops around us, but it melts within a few hours once the sun comes out.

In good years, our winters are cold enough to make the fruit tree orchards in our area happy. The good years also give us lots of rain to fill our reservoirs. This looks like it could be one of those good years. We can only hope.

Today's Christmas medley, "God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen" and "We Three Kings" is performed by the Barenaked Ladies. Hope you enjoy it. Afterwards, come join me and check out the other participants at ABC Wednesday and Outdoor Wednesday.

The Winter Solstice

2010-12-21T02:05:00.000-08:00

December 21, 2010 Total Lunar Eclipse—Almost halfway there!

What a momentous Winter Solstice we're having this year! Not only is it the longest night of the year, but there is a full moon. And, a total lunar eclipse! Did you see it? The experts say that the last time a total lunar eclipse coincided with a winter solstice was over 370 years ago.

It had been raining all day and evening in our area, but as the time approached for the eclipse to begin, the clouds parted open like stage curtains. The more the earth blocked the moon from the sun, the more brilliant the stars became. We were able to see part of the Orion constellation. At the peak of eclipse when the moon was like an orange ball, the husband said it looked like Orion was reaching up to grab it.

What an amazing Christmas gift we all were given today. Thank you, universe. Thank you, God!

For today's Christmas tune, I present to you "Ring Out, Solstice Bells," performed by Jethro Tull. The animation was the 1976 promo video for the song. For the lyrics, check out this page .

The First Name

2010-12-20T01:33:00.000-08:00

Su-sieee! is how the mama calls for me. When she urgently wants me, she puts a long emphasis on the second syllable. If I don't answer in two or three beats, she calls again. Su-sieeeeeeeeeeee!

So, dear readers, in case you were wondering, that is why I italicize the second syllable of my name.

The mama had not planned to name me Susie. She had another name in mind for me. But, the mama was foiled by her accent and the nurse who was assigned to get my name from the mama.

"What is your baby's name?" asked the nurse.

"Tessie," said the mama.

"Susie?" the nurse asked.

"No," the mama replied. "Tessie."

"Susie?"

"Tessie."

"Susie?"

"Tessie."

"Susie?"

The mama gave up. "Yes, Susie."

That's the story the mama tells me. After all these years, I'm still thankful the nurse couldn't understand her.

Today's Christmas song is "Thank God It's Christmas," performed by Queen. Enjoy the song and have a wonderful day!

A Night Out

2010-12-19T01:21:00.000-08:00

Last night, the husband and I took the mama to the annual Filipino-American Community of San Benito Christmas Ball. It was her night to dress up, eat Filipino party food, and make merry. She even got up and danced twice. The husband describes her dancing as walking to the dance floor, moving to the music a few seconds, and walking back to her chair. We could tell she enjoyed herself, and that's what it was all about.

The husband and I got up on the dance floor a few times. We needed to work off the overflowing plate of delicious pancit, lumpia, lechon, pinakbet, dinuguan, and other yummy food. It was probably a sight for the young ones, as well as the older crowd, to see two old fuddies twisting, bopping, and twirling. I'm not kidding when I say we danced with gleefully random abandon to the beat. Thankfully, we still can.

Okay, I admit I wore both my ankle braces. Thankfully, again, I had bought a pair of twinkly Converses on sale a few days ago. They're pretty nifty don't you think? That's them in the photo, with my old lady's purse that I got for free at a rummage sale. Yep, I'm starting to look like one of those old eccentric ladies. I love it!

It was a fun, enjoyable night for us three—the mama, the husband, and me. Yes, indeed!

So, what's the Christmas song for today? "Silver Bells," dear readers, as performed by Twisted Sister. Enjoy!

PhotoHunt: Male

2010-12-18T02:00:00.000-08:00

Since this week's Photo Hunt theme is "male," I thought I'd participate with a photo of my favorite male. As you can see, the husband is a lovable goofball who likes to bring merriment to my camera's viewfinder. I took this photo back in February on the steps of the Rosicrucian Egyptian Museum in San Jose. The exhibits obviously inspired his pose. Click here if you'd like to see more goofy joy from the male who is the husband of mine.

Your Christmas song for the day is "Feliz Navidad," performed by, who else but, Jose Feliciano.

For more PhotoHunter interpretations of "male," please click here.

It's Friday! Toot! Toot!

2010-12-17T02:42:00.000-08:00

I'm hooked up at two different memes today: Skywatch Friday and Follow Friday 40 and Over. After listening to your Christmas song, come join me at both sites to check out cool stuff by other bloggers.

Today's song is called "It's Christmas Time at the Railway Station." I heard it for the first time today. It's a pretty song, performed by the Juke Box Band, the puppet band on the Shining Time Station TV show. The song was sung in a Christmas special called 'Tis a Gift.

L is for Luxury

2010-12-16T03:31:00.000-08:00

"L" is today's letter.
Click here
for other "L" posts.

I'm rolling in luxury.

Well, I shall be next week.

The husband indulged me with a gift certificate for books for my birthday. That is my favorite kind of present. Thank you, sweet husband!

This year, I took my time selecting the books that would be lined up to be read in the coming year. I wandered around a bookstore first, checked out several book blogs, and glanced at a few book lists. Here's what I finally chose (If you want to hear today's Christmas song as you read about the books, scroll down and click on the video first):

A Night Too Dark by Dana Stabenow. This is the 17th novel about Kate Shugak, a private detective in Alaska, who has a homestead in a national park. In this story she investigates the murder of a roustabout who works for a company that wants to open one of the largest gold mines in the state.

Locked In by Marcia Muller. The author's Sharon McCone series has been around since the late 1970s. It's one of my favorites. Sharon is a private detective in San Francisco. The summary states that Sharon was shot and now lays in a hospital bed unable to move or speak, but her mind is conscious.

Homicide in Hardcover by Kate Carlisle. The first title of a mystery series, the story is also set in San Francisco. The protagonist is a bookbinder. A mystery, female protagonist, bookbinder, and San Francisco. What's not to like? Hope I do.

How to Crash a Killer Bash by Penny Warner. Here's another mystery series with a female amateur sleuth set in San Francisco. The protagonist is a party planner.

Last Night Twisted River by John Irving. From the reviews, this story seems to incorporate many of Irving's "gimmicks" (for a lack of a better term) such as bears. I haven't read his books in almost a decade, so we shall see if I still think of him as one of my favorite authors.

The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie by Alan Bradley. I didn't know this story is classified as detective fiction. I was just sold on the idea of an 11-year old girl named Flavia de Luce and her eccentric family living in an old country house with an old Victorian chemistry lab that only Flavia likes to enter.

Mr. Monk is Cleaned Out by Lee Goldberg. I miss the "Monk" series on TV.

Founding Brothers: The Revolutionary Generation by Joseph Ellis. A non-fiction book? Uh-huh, and a Pulitzer Prize winner, to boot, about Adams, Washington, Jefferson, and the other people who helped form the United States.

Craft Hope: Handmade Crafts for a Cause by Jade Sims. This book provides instructions on making various crafts that are matched to charities for which the crafts can be given. Craft Hope is an online group that hosts projects throughout the year to help others.

Dress Your Family in Corduroy and Denim by David Sedaris. A few months ago, I watched Sedaris being interviewed by Jon Stewart and was instantly taken by Sedaris' charm and wit. So, of course, I had to chose a book of his essays.

At Swim-Two-Birds by Flann O'Brien was published in 1939. I'd never heard of it until two days ago when I wandered around the bookstore. The title caught my eye. The story is supposed to be about a college student who writes a novel about a guy who is writing a novel.

Is your head spinning? Are you exhausted from reading all the descriptions. I am. Too bad I don't have four minds the way cows have four stomachs. I could then really read four books at the same time.

But, wait, I'm not done yet. To add to my list of luxury items are birthday presents from my friends:

Travels with Zenobia: Paris to Albania by Model T Ford, by Rose Wilder Lane and Helen Dore Boylston. Lane was the daughter of Laura Ingalls Wilder and Boylston wrote the Sue Barton, Nurse series. The two women did this road trip in 1926. Thanks Missus Kate!

The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society by Mary Ann Shaffer and Annie Barrows. The story is about the residents of the island of Guernsey during WWII when the Germans occupied it. The authors tell the story in the form of correspondence between a Guernsey resident and a London writer in 1946. Thanks evil2win!

Oh, and there's one more. Since I was at the bookstore, I decided to buy a birthday gift for myself. He he. I'm now reading Glazed Murder by Jessica Beck. Suzanne owns a doughnut shop in a small town. Very early one morning, as she's opening her shop, someone dumps a body in front of it. Guess who's going to figure who the killer is?

Books, books, books! I love the luxury of owning them!

Today's Christmas song is "Sleigh Ride" by Glenn Miller and his orchestra. And, don't forget to swing over to Alphabe-Thursday to read other "L" posts.

Update of Our Hairy Vow

2010-12-15T00:58:00.000-08:00

Today is ABC Wednesday
featuring the letter V.

When the husband and I cut all the hair off our heads (as well as the husband's beard and mustache) in January, we vowed not to cut or trim it for a year. The story about that is here, if you're interested.

Here are our vivacious selves at the beginning of the year.

Over 11 months later, our vow is still intact, with one allowance for the husband to trim his mustache so he can have full clearance to his mouth for eating and drinking. Here we are a couple of weeks ago. Believe me, there is lots of hair underneath those caps.

And, here's your Christmas song for the day: "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer" sung by the venerable Ray Charles. After listening to it, head over to ABC Wednesday to check out the vignettes of other "V" bloggers.

Thinking Back: Shirley Temple

2010-12-14T01:38:00.000-08:00

I grew up watching Shirley Temple movies on TV. The story lines were simple and basic. Little Shirley usually portrayed a child who lived with a loving father, grandfather, or another relative, or a waif who lived in an orphanage. She often played matchmaker to a wealthy man, woman, or couple who eventually adopted her. And, in most, if not all, of her movies Temple sang and tap danced her heart out. Perfect fare for a Sunday morning.

I was probably a teenager when I learned that Shirley made her movies in the 1930s, during the middle of the Great Depression. Much later, I learned that the movies were very popular and brought hope and cheer to many people. I wonder if they still would.

To learn more about the actress and person, who became a U.S. ambassador in her later years, check out these links:

Stowaway is a movie that Shirley did in 1936 when she was 8 years old. She played an orphan in China called Ching Ching. One of the songs that Shirley sang in the movie was "That's What I Want for Christmas." And, that, dear readers, is your Christmas song for the day. Enjoy!

A milestone: 200th Post!

2010-12-13T01:09:00.000-08:00

Today's post is number 200! Yippeeeee! When I started at the beginning of this year, I didn't know if I could last a month. :-)

Another big number for me is 57! A prime number. The number of times I've traveled around the sun. Zipping through the redwood trees with the husband and friends was a great way to celebrate the new year.

It was the first time for all of us. At the highest points, we were about 10 to 15 stories above the ground. Didn't seem like it at all. The husband says the platforms on which we stood were about halfway up the trees. Didn't seem like that at all, either. By the time I got comfortable with traveling from tree to tree, we were halfway through the tour. Would I do it again? You bet!

Want to check out where we went in the Santa Cruz mountains? Click here.

Today's Christmas song is "Holly Jolly Christmas," performed by Mr. Burl Ives. If you'd like to listen to the 12 other Christmas songs that I've posted thus far, please click here.

Zipping Along

2010-12-12T00:12:00.000-08:00

Hello dear gentle readers,

Not much to say other than I begin another trip around the sun today. To usher in my new year, the sweet girlfriends K and evil2win, the husband, and I will be zip lining through a redwood forest this afternoon.

Whooooooo-hoooooooo!

Your Christmas song today is "Peace on Earth" and "Little Drummer Boy" performed by Jack Black and Jason Segal. Some of you may remember this medley being sung by Bing Crosby and David Bowie in the late 1970s.

Peace and love, One and All,
Su-sieee! Mac

Thank you, Senator Sanders!

2010-12-11T01:10:00.000-08:00

Thank you, Senator Sanders for having the guts and balls to state so clearly how wrong it is to extend the tax cuts, as well as to cut the estate tax rate, for the very, very, very rich.

Thank God, we have someone in Congress who has the guts and balls to tell it as it is.

Senator Bernie Sanders, the progressive Democrat from Vermont, spoke on the Senate floor for more than 8-1/2 hours yesterday. Click here to see a video of his speech.

In my mind, Senator Sanders embodies what a politician is supposed to be—one who advocates for the American people.

I also think Senator Sanders embodies the true meaning and spirit of Christmas. And that leads me to today's Christmas song. Here is a 1916 recording of "Oh, Holy Night" performed by Enrico Caruso.

Fifteen Days to Christmas

2010-12-10T00:33:00.000-08:00

Christmas time is here. For some people, Christmas preparations started the day after Thanksgiving. Puff! Up went the Christmas tree and the Christmas decorations. A week later, the Christmas presents sit around the tree.

I hung the Christmas wreath on the front door yesterday. The day before that the husband and I did some online Christmas Shopping. Maybe tonight, I will finally put the artificial tree up. Since Sunday, I've thought about putting it up after the mama goes to sleep so she would have a pleasant surprise in the morning. But by 11 o'clock, I've lost my motivation. So, I'll probably do it while the mama watches her evening TV so she can distract herself with giving me directions on which branches need to be filled with more ornaments. Yes, the tree will definitely go up tonight. As will the Christmas stockings be hung on the hearth, including those of our dearly beloved parakeets in heaven.

Have you got your tree up yet?

Today's Christmas song is "Rockin Around the Christmas Tree", sung by Brenda Lee. Enjoy!

P.S. I'm hooking up at Java's Follow Friday 40 and Over! Come check out other bloggers with me by clicking here.

K is for Knucklehead Acts

2010-12-09T02:32:00.000-08:00

This is the season to be jolly. Ho! Ho! Ho!

No doubt the Republicans in Congress are happy. They got the tax breaks for the poor rich for another two years. And, then they turned around and blocked passage of a bill that would give a one-time amount of $250 in 2011 to the elderly and disabled receiving social security benefits. Because consumer prices have not climbed high enough, social security recipients do not warrant a cost-of-living increase for another year.

Heaven help those whose only income is a social security check, and may their monthly benefits be more than the average $1,153. That was the amount in October, 2010, according to the Social Security Administration Web site.

I just don't get it. Unless, perhaps, just maybe, the Republicans figured they helped the common people already by agreeing to an extension of unemployment benefits.

Sigh.

With all the knuckleheadedness that's going on in Congress, I still am optimistic about humanity. The trick for me is not to be complacent. So, onward and upward.

Even after writing a downer post, I have a Christmas song for today. Please check out "Oh Come, Oh Come Emmanuel," performed by Randy Granger on the Native American flute.

One last note: I am participating in Alphabe-Thursday, hosted by Jenny Matlock. For more interpretations of the letter K, please click here.

Up.

2010-12-08T00:58:00.000-08:00

Look up! You'll never know what you might see.

I've found another meme to have fun at—ABC Wednesday Round 7. This week's letter is U. Click here to visit other interpretations of the ubiquitous U. That is after checking out today's Christmas song. It also fits the the ABC theme. "Up on the House Top" is one of my favorites. This version is performed by Gene Autry.

Playing Gardener

2010-12-07T02:22:00.000-08:00

About a week ago, I got a paper bag full of iris bulbs from a woman who runs the community garden in our town. She'd dug up hundreds of them and was giving them away. Purple, white, blue, and yellow. But, I won't know what colors the iris are until they bloom. Yesterday, I had fun planting some of the bulbs in a bunch of baskets of different shapes and sizes. I can just imagine the iris baskets lined up in a row in the front yard come spring.

That is, if they bloom. The few times I've planted iris, nothing happened. I may have planted them too deeply, which iris aren't supposed to like.

The experts say that iris should be planted in September and October for a spring bloom. Maybe that's for another part of the country.

The experts also say that iris should be planted before the frost. We've had a couple of frosty mornings already, but I don't think the experts were talking about California climate. A woman at the thrift shop where I got some baskets (25 cents for 2!) told me to cover the bulbs with leaves. That should keep them warm, she said. Fortunately, yesterday morning, I helped the Mama prune the apple tree. Each basket is topped with a layer of apple leaves and apple twigs to keep the leaves snuggly in place. I just hope the iris won't be suffocated.

So, come spring, we shall see what surprises pop up. If nothing happens, I'll just sprinkle the baskets with flower seeds of some sort. Que sera, sera.

Today's Christmas song is "Carol of the Bells," a Ukrainian carol performed by the electric Jake Shimabukuro on his ukulele and the U.S. Marine Forces Pacific Band. Enjoy!

Published!

2010-12-06T00:36:00.000-08:00

When I'm good, I'm very good at doing stuff. Quite efficient, almost to the point of being annoyingly anal-retentive.

When I'm bad, I procrastinate. That pile of stuff in the hallway that I see as I type away on the keyboard, for instance, has been there since October. That's when I moved the pile from the side of my table where I couldn't see it at all. I won't even tell you long it was there.

Yeah, and the point is?

The husband's and my latest book was published last month. I'm finally getting around to mentioning it. I ought to have started publicizing it a month or so before it came out. Anyway here I am to brag about it.

Career Opportunities in Agriculture, Food, and Natural Resources. A title I know you all want to go out and buy right now. Then, you'll know what's going on when Hollywood turns it into a spectacular film. Just kidding. About the latter, that is.

Our masterpiece is a career guide book about 99 occupations that are available in farming, forestry, fishing, agriscience, agribusiness, pet services, veterinary medicine, landscaping, the food manufacturing industry, and natural resources management, among other areas. To read about the specific jobs, please click here.

The title is part of the Career Opportunities series published Ferguson Publishing, an imprint of Infobase Publishing, Inc. in New York. The book is aimed at high school students, but it is also very appropriate and useful for college students, those wishing to change careers, and the general public.

So, if you know of young folks and not-so-young folks who may be interested in pursuing a career in the areas that our book covers, well, then let them know about Career Opportunities in Agriculture, Food, and Natural Resources. The husband and I would greatly appreciate it.

And, now, for your Christmas song of the day. To celebrate the joy of another new book, I give you Glenn Miller and his Orchestra.

Mele Kalikimaka!

2010-12-05T00:34:00.000-08:00

I wouldn't mind finding an all-expense paid trip to Hawaii for the husband and me under the Christmas tree. What? You would, too?

The husband and I fantasize about one day living in Hawaii. We like it that much. Swimming in the ocean over there is heavenly. The husband says it's like floating in bathwater.

I was maybe 30 the first time I visited Hawaii. Immediately, I felt like I found home, as in this is where I finally belong. I was so close to being born there. If only.

The daddy had lived in Hawaii for almost 18 years before moving to the mainland. In the late 1920s, the daddy was among the thousands of young Filipino men who were recruited in the Philippines to work on the sugar cane plantations in Hawaii. He said his plan was to return home after he finished his contract. "Three years."

It didn't work out that way. He returned to his hometown after WWII was over, no longer a Filipino citizen. He'd served in the U.S. Army and when his sergeant had asked the daddy if he wanted to become a U.S. citizen, he had said, "Sure. You bet." Words to that effect.

So, he went home, met the mama, and instantly fell in love. They started a life together there in the Philippines, but it did not take long for the daddy to realize that opportunities would be better his family in the United States. Hence, back he came. In six months, he made enough money working long hours in the fields to book passage for the mama and the brother. The daddy and the mama never looked back.

What a ramble to introduce today's Christmas song! It's called Mele Kalikimaka! which is Merry Christmas in Hawaiian. The performers are Bing Crosby and the Andrew Sisters. Enjoy, and Aloha!

What Do You Want for Christmas?

2010-12-04T00:28:00.000-08:00

All I want is what every beauty contestant wants: Peace in the world.

Seriously.

What a Show!

2010-12-03T02:15:00.000-08:00

This was earlier in the week. Or, was it last week? All I remember is I've never seen a sky like that! I was so fortunate.

To see what else is up around the world, check out Skywatch Friday.

And, here's your rocking Christmas song for the day. For two more songs, click here.

J is for Joy of Christmas

2010-12-02T01:18:00.000-08:00

Yesterday, I found the joy of Christmas at a local holiday bazaar. For the last 20 or so years, the group of dedicated hospital volunteers in my town have sponsored this event. The husband and I happened to already be out and about, otherwise I doubt we would've gone. I am so glad we did drop by. The bazaar got me into the Christmas spirit.

There were only a few vendors, but the place was full of cheer and goodwill from the vendors, the hospital volunteers, and the patrons. The husband and I enjoyed walking around and looking at the knitted, crocheted, and other crafted items. You could tell that each item was made by someone who took care and had pride for having done a work well done.

One table was full of tiny wooden animals and figurines. As we walked up to it, an elderly man came up to me and gifted me with a mini doll ornament. He turned to the husband and said, "You look kind of fishy." Then he presented the husband with a mini fish ornament. What a charmer the man was! We spent a long time looking at his wooden crafts and listening to him talk about how he made them. His vivacity was so contagious. I don't think he cared if he sold anything because he was surprised when I did buy four of his coasters at 50 cents apiece.

The bazaar also sold lunch. We weren't hungry but maybe next year we should eat there. Not yet noon, the tables were already full with mostly elderly women who were happily munching and gabbing away. It was the joyful look and sound of what I think Christmas is all about.

So, now I'm ready for Christmas. That joy I found yesterday is inside me. It will help me keep things in perspective as we go through the commercial and materialistic aspects of the holiday season. I'm sure it will. How about you? Are you ready to just enjoy yourself with the spirit of Christmas?

Today is the letter "J" at Alphabe-Thursday, hosted by Jenny Matlock. Click here to read what J-things other bloggers are writing about. That is, after listening to today's Christmas song.

A Christmas Song A Day?

2010-12-01T23:45:00.000-08:00

I got this idea from a Facebook friend who is attempting to post a song a day at his page. With 16 minutes left to the first of December, I give you the first song. From the Beatles, of course!

The Unattended Little Boy

2010-11-30T00:01:00.000-08:00

The little boy, maybe 2 and a half or so, stood on the edge of the lawn pointing happily at the red and orange leaves in the gutter. He wore no hat nor gloves. He had on no shoes or socks. He wore only a short-sleeved tee-shirt and thin shorts. The temperature was in the 50s. What the heck was he doing outside?

As we pedaled by him on our bicycles, I did not see any adult keeping tabs on him.

Odd.

A few houses down the street, an elderly man was mucking about in his garage. "Excuse me," I called, hopefully, "Are you missing a boy?"

"No," he said. "Is there one missing?"

"There's a little boy on the corner. He isn't wearing any shoes or socks."

"That's not good," said the man looking up the street.

"Do you know where he might live?"

"No," said the old man.

The husband and I turned back.

The little boy couldn't or wouldn't answer any of our questions. "What's your name?" "Are you lost?" "Where do you live?" He merely wanted us to look at the pretty leaves in front of him.

Because he kept pointing across the street from where he stood, I took it to mean he lived there. So, I lead him to the house directly across from where he stood.

Knock. Knock.

Nobody was home. Would people really abandon their kid like this?

The little boy followed me to the next house, pointing at every thing that seemed to fascinate him. No one answered the doorbell. Dogs barked from inside the garage. No doubt they were warm.

All the houses around us seemed tightly shut. I did not want to knock on every door. Was nobody asking where their little boy was? What were we going to do with this kid? It was time to call for the police.

While the husband talked with the dispatcher, I needed to keep the kid warm. He was healthy and big for his age, but I did not want him coming down with hypothermia. I'm sure the almost three feet tall boy looked quite funny wearing my pink skull cap, orange gloves, orange jacket, and purple sneakers.

After the husband got off the phone, he went and knocked at a house where we had seen small kids play in the front yard. Fortunately, the husband's bright chartreuse bike kept the little boy mesmerized to stand in place with me. As he stood gazing at the bicycle, I noticed a woman walking up the street from which we had turned back. She was talking on her cellphone. I called to her, pointing to the boy, "Is this your son?" She kept looking at me, so I kept repeating myself.

As she crossed the street, the little boy shouted gleefully, "Mama, mama!"

The woman continued talking on the phone until she reached us.

"What's your name?" I asked the woman.

She looked at me unsurely. Remembering that she was speaking Spanish on the phone, I asked again, "¿Come te llamas?"

Then she woke up. Another fortunate break: she spoke English. It turned out that her son had been standing in front of his house. He probably slipped out of the garage when her husband had the door open. (The door was closed when we were there.) She had been in the bathroom so didn't know that her son was not in the house.

Okay.

I'm just glad all turned out well. I hope.

How long had the husband and I been out there with the boy? The husband thought it was probably 10 or 15 minutes. I thought it was forever.

The lessons I learned yesterday afternoon.

Having a cell phone is definitely wonderful to have on hand to call the police when you need help.
The husband and I have no clue about kids' ages. The husband thought he was maybe 4 or 5 and possibly autistic because he wasn't answering my questions. I didn't put everything together until after it was all over and I rewound that incident in my head over and over.
The little boy may have understood me if I spoke in Spanish. Will I brush up on my Spanish skills? Probably not.
Always go knock on the house in front of which a seemingly lost kid stands.

Maybe the husband and I should've minded our own business. But, if you saw a small child wearing only a tee-shirt and shorts in the cold, without any adult supervision, would you do nothing?

Skywatch Friday: West vs. East

2010-11-26T10:08:00.000-08:00

Earlier this week, I stood beside my car and took a shot of the evening sky to the west. Then I turned and took one of the sky to the east. How amazing the difference was! At least, to me.

To the West

To the East

To see sky views from around the world, check out Skywatch Friday.

Happy Thanksgiving!

2010-11-25T13:33:00.000-08:00

Dear Readers,

I wish each and all of you joy, peace, love, and happiness.

Thank you always for your visits.

Truly yours,

Su-sieee! Mac

I is for Idiosyncratic Iconoclast

2010-11-18T12:58:00.000-08:00

The photographer wishes to thank the husband for agreeing to pose at the given moments and allowing her to post the following photos that exemplify the spirit of idiosyncratic iconoclasts. (Whew! What a sentence of big formal words. That is, for me.)

Want to meet the husband? Click over to Arrmac's Blog!

Want to check out more "I is for..." posts. Head over to Alphabe-Thursday, hosted by Jenny Matlock.

Autumn Self-Portrait

2010-11-17T00:13:00.000-08:00

I like Autumn. 

I seem to wake up in the fall. 

Maybe it's because I'm a fall Autumn baby. 

Yes, that sounds good. 

This week, I'm participating in Outdoor Wednesday, hosted by A Southern Daydreamer. See what other bloggers have been doing outside by clicking here.

P.S. I'm also linking up with Follow Friday 40 and Over, hosted by Never Growing Old. Come check out other blogs with me by clicking here.

The Ups and Downer of the Weekend

2010-11-15T13:51:00.000-08:00

Because Veterans Day fell on a Thursday this year, the past weekend was a four-day one for some folks. A few of our friends think that the husband and I have a seven-day weekend because we work at home. I say they're just envious. But, I admit that if I ever had to do a 9 to 5 job again, it would be a very difficult adjustment. So, knock on wood that won't need to be.

Anyway, back to the highlights of the weekend.

Thursday

The husband and I went downtown to watch the Veterans Day Parade. That was the first time I've been to one. Ever. It was a short, but fun, parade.

If you love a small town parade, come to Hollister, California. A couple weeks ago was the high school homecoming parade. A couple of weeks from now will be the "Hey, it's time for Christmas!" parade. That's not the real name, but you know what I mean.

Other annual parades that march through downtown include the Portuguese Festival Parade, the Horse Show and Rodeo Parade, and the Mexican Independence Day Parade.

Friday

"PLEASE BE QUIET!"

That's what popped out of my mouth about one hour into our three hours of doing research in a library. Fortunately, it was not at our city library, but the one in the town and county next door. I didn't mumble it or say it under the breath. I said it quite loudly so every kid and adult in the children's section heard me. There was immediate stunned silence, including from the husband who just a second before my outburst had been talking to me about our research. We were talking in just-above-whisper tones, which was hard to hear because of the NOISE around us.

Being that it was the children's section, some kind of noise is to be expected.

Quiet noise, that is.

Not toddlers shrieking. Not small kids who were talking in outside voices as they played? worked? on computers half the room away from us. Not middle schoolers giggling as they chased each other up and down the aisles.

The unsupervised children wasn't even the worse part of it all. The worse was seeing parents stand or sit next to their children who shrieked and talked in outside voices. Obviously, they had learned to tune their kids out. The librarians? They sat about 10 feet away. Shelves blocked their view from the children's section. So, I suppose, their motto was similar to Sgt. Schultz on Hogan's Heroes, "I see nothing! I know nothing!" None of the librarians looked happy to be there.

After my outburst, some adults and children tried to monitor themselves and others. Ssssh-shhhh! A half-hour or so later, the husband and I moved to the quietest corner we could find, where all we had to contend with was the constant chatter of the library technicians at the circulation desk, and later a teenage boy who droned on about nothing to a teenage girl who barely responded.

What ever happened to the standards of Quiet! in libraries that librarians establish?

Saturday

Every now and then, the husband would look at me and crack up, as he remembered my outburst the day before. I'm glad I continue to amuse the fellow.

Most of the day I was on a ladder pruning an apple tree in the backyard. The husband joined me after lunch to reach the tall branches. The mama sat beneath us stripping leaves off the branches and cutting branches so they would fit into the green recycling bin.

We worked until almost sunset. A good time was had by all.

By the way, I understand why the mama likes to get up on the ladder. There's something rather freeing, and risky, by being up there. In other words, cheap thrills.

Sunday

Have you ever heard a British-style brass band?

Try it, you might just like it. That's what the husband and I did on Sunday afternoon. We made our way down to a local church to hear the Pacific Brass Band, a group of local musicians, perform a diverse range of marches, hymns, folk songs, and other pieces. The band is composed of brass instruments only—cornets, tenor horns, flugelhorns, trombones, and tubas. Oh, and percussion, too. Gotta have that beat. It was amazing how the band got such a full concert-hall-size sound in the church.

I couldn't find a sample of the band's music, but I did find a fun video that will give you a general idea of what a British-style brass band sounds like. Take it away, Mr. Bean.

P.S. Hope you had a glorious weekend, too, with more ups than downers.

A Reading Challenge

2010-11-13T02:26:00.000-08:00

Yes, another reading challenge for me to try. This one is all about Louisa May Alcott, the author of Little Women. It was one of my favorite stories when I was a teenager. I identified with Jo, the tomboy, the fun sister, the romantic, the outspoken one, and the writer. Who didn't?

So, this challenge, the All Things Alcott Challenge. What's it about? Click on the link to read the details. Essentially, participants decide how many items related to Louisa May Alcott to read, listen to, or watch that they hope to complete by December 31. My goal is the number 1. Between now and then, I will read at least one book by or about Ms. Alcott.

Update of Other Challenges
The 200 sit-up challenge. I finished that last week. Did 200 crunches all in a row. Yep, I did.

Jumping three times daily. That's on hold. My right ankle is now screwed up.

Mid-morning in My Hometown

2010-11-12T00:42:00.000-08:00

For more sky views from other places around the world, click on:

And, if you're interested in learning more about my hometown, click over to Take 25 to Hollister.

H is for Help and Helping

2010-11-11T01:58:00.000-08:00

Asking for help can be so difficult for some people. The mama, for instance.

The nearly-90-year-old woman is stubborn about asking me to help her with the harder chores in the garden. But, she gladly takes the help, if I happen to give it without asking, "Do you need help?"

It's taken me awhile to recognize how silly that question is. It's similar to asking a visitor if she would like something to drink. According to the Mama, you don't ask, you just serve the drink.

So, I've learned to keep my eyes and ears open to what's going on when she's outside. For instance, when I hear the sound of metal scraping against cement, I head outside to see what the Mama is doing. And, usually she has set up the ladder against one of her many trees to pick some fruits or prune tree branches.

"Here, let me do it," I say, as I shove my feet into my shoes.

"I can do it," she says, as she's about to climb the ladder.

We spar back and forth a couple of times before she finally lets me climb the ladder to pick the fruit or prune the branches under her supervision. I do what needs to be done up on the ladder, then put the ladder back by the fence and carry the heavier things to where they need to be. I go back to work, while the mama cleans and stores the fruit or strips the branches to fit into the recycle bin.

Sure, when I hear the rattle of the ladder, I sigh and mumble to the husband, "What is she doing now?" But when I'm up that ladder doing her bidding, I'm enjoying myself hanging out with the mama. I think the mama is, too.

Today, Alphabe-Thursday, hosted by Jenny at Off on My Tangent, is featuring the letter H. Head on over there to see what other bloggers are H'ing about. That is, after watching the video of the Beatles sing, yep, "Help!"

Glory!

2010-11-05T01:27:00.000-07:00

I took this photo of the clouds a few days ago. Like the sky, the events of this week have been simply glorious.

The San Francisco Giants won the World Series. Yep, indeed!

And, no wealthy fat cat was able to buy the governorship in our state. Ha!

It's Skywatch Friday and Follow Friday 40 and Over! for me today. Join me, won't you? Click on the links to check out what other bloggers are posting.