Blue Skies

As we say goodbye to twenty twenty-one, I refuse to relive, what most of us would call, a year certainly not worth a nickel. (A nickel is what several useful items used to cost)......before gas started costing us around four bucks a gallon, and Jello, going for over a dollar a box!

Instead, this old lady is going to look at the future and focus on her many blessings.

• I am electronically modified, thanks to my hearing aids, but other than that, I am relatively healthy. Unlike that odd commercial, currently running, I can "still do my own hair and play with my grandkids". Meaning, I assume, that I can use a comb and get down and up, from the floor.
• I have been blessed with a plethora of wonderful friends, and many of them are healthy and active. The pandemic and old age has taken a few of them to better places, but for now, for the most part, we are still enjoying each other's company.
• Finances may be becoming more precarious, but with a little belt tightening, we can make ends meet. "Refrigerator Soup" may be on the menu, more often, but we're not going hungry.
• Grandchildren, and we have ten, are the best blessings, ever. And, their parents aren't too bad, either.
• I take a couple of prescription drugs, but so far have avoided any and all of those continually advertised drugs (with made up names) that have more side effects, than possible cures.
• I can pursue my hobbies and joys. Give me anything resembling a string, and I will crochet something sort of pretty or useful. Also, I'm researching family history, and increasing my detective skills.
• I write. I drive. I look forward to the future. 

Life in 2022, promises to be good for all of us. Happy New Year.

Precious Lord. Keep my eyes on the prize. I am blessed and I know it. You are my constant.

Ancestry on a Platter

 One of my interests, this past year, has been genealogy research. My attempts to locate ancestors, on several family trees, have led me to discover people and places, that have been surprising and fascinating. I've located births and burial places of many relatives, at least 4 generations, in the past. In my search, I have learned the difference between 1st cousins, once removed and those cousins who are not. 

My German Immigrant Grandparents, with information supplied to me by a friend and fellow genealogy buff, were actually German speaking Slovakians, from an area close to the Adriatic Sea! My American Indian great-grandmother probably wasn't Indian (my DNA shows no Native American sequences) at all, and I know that I descend from several generations of English coal miners through my maternal grandfather's family. My forbearers were all laborers and peasants. I have no Royal Bloodline, in any country, on any continent.

All of these details are of great interest to me. Much to my dismay, this ancestral enthusiasm has not sparked the same excitement, in most of my immediate family. Our children are less than excited about being the future caretakers, of four huge notebooks, recording our family folly.

Most recently, I have discovered a website of the National Archives (datalog@nara.com), that lists  citizen collections of unusual subject matter.  Among the items cataloged, is a book of Bess Truman's recipes! The recipes are hand written, obviously from Bess's personal cookbook. For years, I have served my family, "Bess Truman's Ozark Pudding", but I honestly didn't know if it actually had anything to do with the former first lady. I just thought it was tasty, easy to make and I always get compliments, especially when it's served with ice cream. 

Well, the first recipe given in this archive was the very same "Ozark Pudding", I've been serving for years. And, Bess, actually suggests that you serve it with ice cream. TA DA. Who knew genealogy could be so tasty?

Great and All Knowing Father. We thank you for being ever present and everlasting. You are our only 
Constant, through the centuries. Your steadfast love endures forever.

CATASTROPHE.......

 Let it be known that I enjoy all kinds of animals. I loved visiting the Kansas City Zoo, as a child. My favorite animals to watch were the monkeys and the bears. I've viewed animals, in the wild, from the Midwest to the Alaskan glaciers. 

We have a plethora of wild animals in our suburban back yard. Deer transverse our property in herds of up to nine. We have raccoons, groundhogs and turkeys wandering around on a regular basis. We've been the owners of several dogs, but currently, we have no resident pets. 

What we do have, much to my disgust, is a large, multi-generational residency of feral cats. I'm guessing that we have, living in the the mini woods, at the edge of our property, a herd of 30 or more cats. They are everywhere. They climb on our deck, sit on our front porch, peer in our windows and travel across our backyard, so frequently, that they have created a visible "cat path", from North to South (and vice versa) across our back yard. (Did I mention that I am seriously allergic to cats?)

Remember that Dr. Seuss book, The 500 of Hats of Bartholomew Cubbins?  (Just change that H to a C!) Well, I think that is happening to the Kincaids! I used to tap on the window, when I saw one on the path, and it would scamper away. Now, they don't even turn around. This morning, while typing this post, I've seen 3 black ones and two grey ones. 

They are not going anywhere, because we have a neighbor, two doors down, who feeds all the wild animals. As long as she keeps putting out food, they will continue to hang around and travel back and forth, across our yard. I have contacted the city and they are only willing to come and pick them up...if I catch them and pay to have them removed. (Make that 4 black cats, this morning.)

Any suggestions for a humane solution?

Dear Lord: I keep repeating "I shall not want.", and I know that I am blessed. I just wish someone else would be blessed with these cats. 

 

There is a reason......

 We have three, themed Christmas trees decorated, in our home. The table is set with the Christmas China and the living room mantle and all other flat surfaces, in every room, (including the baths) are decorated with holiday knickknacks.  In, other words, we love the Christmas Season, around here.

What I don't love, and never have, is baking for the holidays. I'm not a great baker. Half of every cake, I've ever baked, has ended up in the trash, because no one wants to eat it. I'm the queen of dry cakes. My children, growing up, thought that all cookies had black bottoms. I am, for sure, not just a baker, but an over-baker! 

So, my least favorite activity, of the season, are those damned cookie exchanges. I don't want to waste my time baking bad cookies. My kitchen experiments make Dr. Frankenstein's monster, look good. Blessedly, I have avoided such festivities, for many years. Surely, I reasoned, cookie exchanges are out of fashion. 

But, no such luck. Someone, somewhere, has brought them back! This year, I am invited to a cookie exchange. No excuses, I have to attend. I'll do my best and bake the requested two dozen cookies. They will taste and look awful. I can't help it. My nightmares, for the past week or so, have consisted of thousands of women grabbing handfuls of cookies, off a smorgasbord of gorgeous sweets. while my lonely plate remains untouched.

I know that I am over thinking this, but my past experiences have distorted my reasoning. I can't simply put two dozen Oreos, on a fancy plate! Keep me in your thoughts and pray for those, who unfortunately, chose my contribution.

Dear Lord. Your birthday celebration is curious, for sure. We love to celebrate the season, and wise persons know that You are the reason. Merry Christmas.

  

The Daily Journal

 I would like to encourage all of my followers, friends and relatives to start journaling, in the New Year.

When I was a teenager, I had a diary. But, I often found myself too busy to write in the thing. I think it had a blue plastic cover, but now that I think about it, that might have been my autograph book. Anyway, most people, at some time in their life, attempt to write about what they are doing and how they are living. That's keeping a diary or journaling.

My current journaling experience consists of two exclusive musings. One part of my journal list things that I do for or give to other people. It's not a tally of my wonderfulness. I keep the list so that I will remember to make a deliberate effort, to give to my fellow life travelers. Giving, my mother tried to teach me, is better than receiving. However, sort of to the contrary, some folks find that a journal of their daily blessings is very meaningful. Writing words of thankfulness, is valuable and humbling.

The other part of my journal is my written account of daily events. Now, you and I know that most of my days are uneventful and pretty dull, but things do happen. I try to write every day and when I miss a day or two, I go back and fill in the particulars, as I remember them. Recording events can help all of us remember, especially as we age.

Have you forgotten when you last visited the beauty salon, or had an appointment with the eye doctor? If you journal, you probably wrote it down, on or near the date it happened. Lots of information, very valuable information, will be right (pun intended) in your journal.

So, buy a cheap spiral notebook or a fancy leather bound journal. You could even use your computer. Start writing. You'll be amazed at how it will enrich your life.

Dear Lord. You are with us every moment of our lives. We do not reflect enough on our blessings, short-comings and joys. Reflection often visualizes, for us, our need to change. Show us Your way.

"Oh, There's No Place Like Home, for the Holidays."

Just when you think you might have a handle on the seasons of your life, your spouse says "I can't believe it's Wednesday, already. It came earlier than usual this week." 

I didn't have anything to say, in response. On what planet am I living?

The same spouse says, "Are you putting up the lights, on the house this year?" Now, the last time we (I) put up lights, on the house, was about 10 years ago. Those lights were the big, fat, multi-colored kind, that we bought, in the last century. They predated twinkle lights, LED lights and solar lighting. They were only one step up from candles! I don't know where they are, anymore. Plus, I am 75 years old, a bit over 5 feet tall and I am not, voluntarily, ever getting on a ladder, again! 

So, today, I bought a red light bulb and a green light bulb. I screwed them into our two porch lights. Consider our lights, hung, Mr. Claus!

Merry Christmas!

Good Lord. I love my life. Growing older is a unique experience. Thank you, Lord, for taking me there.

Ouch!

 I'm going to let you in on a secret. I have a good side and a bad side. No, it's not really what you think. You see, since around 2008, medically, I have had a good side and a bad side. About that time, I was diagnosed with breast cancer. Subsequently, I had all of the known (at that time) treatments to combat the disease. Thankfully, I have survived, but I live with the effects of those treatments.

I favor my bad side. For quite a while, I lifted nothing heavy with my right arm. To this day, although it is my dominant arm, it's a bit weaker than my left arm. I never have shots or blood pressure taken on that arm, either. I'm a bit lop-sided. As the years go on, the differences in my sides, seem to increase.

Fast forward to the past year. A majority of Americans have had the Covid 19 Vaccines. And, most recently the booster shot. Because I have no lymph nodes on my bad side, my good side has taken all three of these treatments, and it's not happy about it. It's been nearly a week now, since the last shot, and my left arm is still hot to the touch. I've developed a rash near the injection site. It still hurts, when I move it. Similar things happened, the last two times. For the present, I have two weak sides!

Now, I am not complaining......Okay, I am!

Truly, I am extremely thankful, that I haven't had Covid 19, and I am positive that the vaccines are the reason for that. However, please note that I (and my good side) will certainly be thrilled when a good anti-viral pill gets developed. Hurry up science and help me get both of my sides working together again!

Dear Lord. I am thankful for modern medicine, and the opportunity to live a long and full life. I realize that I need to work on my patience and thankful spirit. Life is good and I am grateful.

History, according to Nancy

 I was introduced to a new word, this Thanksgiving Holiday.....Historiography. According to my son's apt explanation and the Net's definition, Historiography is learning and researching history through stories and particularly photographs.

That got me thinking and doing a little research myself. Photos can tell quite a bit about a person. Over the years, my hair has gone from dishwater blond (it started getting darker when I was about three or four) to very dark brown, then grey and now almost white. That's some historiography, for you.

And, how about clothing. Sometimes, I look at an old picture of me and realize that a piece of clothing I was wearing in 1990, is still in my closet and I wore it again, last week. That jacket came from the last century, it is over 30 years old and I am still wearing it. It's had a good life. It's old. I need to let it go! It needs to be pitched! Historiography, per Nancy.

My home is filled with photographs of my family, immediate and extended. They provide a rich history and a visible record of changes in the lives of people I love and care about. History in Kodachrome. 

Lord, we are blessed to be Your family. Teach us to treasure the old things, but remind us to focus our energy on the here and now. We praise Your Holy Name.

It's An Open Book

It's inevitable, I guess, that as we age, certain tasks become more difficult. However, it surprises me that, suddenly, my ability to open every day items has diminished enormously!

Saturday, it was the bag, within the box of cereal. The box opened easily, but the inside bag, containing the cereal, would not be pulled apart. It was the toughest plastic, imaginable. I finally had to cut it open with scissors.

Monday, it was the top in the plastic milk jug. Seems like it used to be so easy. Just lift the little ring and pull. What good is dry cereal without milk? 

Tuesday, it was the covering on a little bitty cup of fruit cocktail. That top must have been superglued to the bottom. I finally got it off, after spilling half of the juice!

The box of rice said, "push here to open". I pushed and poked. No luck? Got out a knife and cut the thing open.

I'm hesitant to mention "child proof" lids. I try to avoid them, no matter what the cost! Bags, boxes, screw-off, pry-off, wine corks. All of them are a struggle! 

Let's consider filing a age discrimination law suit. We need repackaging, just for old folks. If this is old age, where do I hire an Assistant...........someone to just drop in every day and open my stuff? 

Dear Lord. I know I am complaining about the little stuff. Give me patience and perseverance. Keep me focused on my blessings. 

Peaked

 Several weeks ago, I embarked on what was to be a simple craft project. In my quest to find the perfect Christmas Tree Topper (I've been looking for a couple of years, with no success.), I decided to make one. Cheaper, I thought, and a unique, work of art! 

Size 10 string yarn, the old fashioned doily type, is very inexpensive. I already own crochet hooks of every size and type. Easy peesy! So, I downloaded a FREE pattern, from the internet. Voila! I was in business.  In a couple of days the base of the topper was completed. At this point, my fingers were starting to cramp up and I began to think I may need to schedule a trip to the Ophthalmologist. But, I persevered, with my goal hazily in sight.

A week later, after a trip to the craft store for 2 sheets of foam board, poster board, foam cone, rust-proof pins, duct tape and white glue, I'm realizing that this little project may come in under fifty bucks, if I'm lucky. The average store-bought Tree Topper is about $19.95! But by now, three large star-shaped doilies and the base are ready for assembly.

Another trip to the store to buy Epson Salts. I couldn't find plain old Epson Salts, however I did locate a package, scented with Eucalyptus and Spearmint. Then, following instructions, I proceeded to boil water and salts to make a stiffener. I soaked the doilies, pinned them on the forms, which I had constructed from the foam and duct tape, and waited for them to dry. In the meantime, I spent a great deal of time trying to clean up the salt dust that was on every flat surface in the house! At least, I reasoned, the house smells really nice!

Two days later, I am looking at three, dried to perfection (and hard enough to rival Odd Job's Derby),  triangular shaped doilies and a 16'' high, conical doily, and realize, that I have dried them inaccurately. The points are in the wrong places and they will not fit on the base. Egad. 

Now, I am waiting for them to dry, again, and then I will attempt to finish construction of the project.  When the topper is completed, I will feel like that famous duo, Eiffel and Bartholdi. The sky is the limit. A monument for the ages.

Dear Lord. We are truly blessed. We know that sometimes reason is not our strong suit, but because You are always there to guide and nourish us, we are safe and protected. We are thankful.

Not on my watch!

 I try very hard not to be political, in my posts, but today, I just can't help myself.

In 1914, my Keller grandparents immigrated to the United States from Central Europe. They came with $80.00, and the clothes on their backs. Neither of them spoke English. My grandmother couldn't read or write, in German, or any language. And, they weren't traveling alone. They brought along their 6 year old niece, headed across the country to Illinois, by train, where they were met by little Eva's parents. They followed all of the rules and obeyed the laws.

My grandfather had been farmer laborer, but in the U.S., he worked in factories and on WPA projects. He and my grandmother raised five children, all of whom graduated from high school. All three of their sons served in the U.S. armed forces, during WWII. One of their two daughters worked in a defense factory, painting clock faces. My grandmother worked, through her 80's, as a nanny, and grandpa dropped dead, while working, at age 60. Most of their grandchildren graduated from college, and one grandchild was career Navy.

They all worked very hard. It wasn't easy. Twice, they had to live through extreme prejudice, while their adopted country was at war, with the country of their origin.

But, they didn't need a government gift of half a million dollars, to thrive. This is a great country. Every day folks risk their lives, by the hundreds, to cross our borders. We are a country that takes care of our citizens and most recently, our non-citizens. Charities and welfare agencies are not supposed to ask whether the people who ask for assistance are citizens. Because, we, as a county, try to help every person in need. That's what God calls us to do. 

We try to promise freedom and equal opportunity in this country. Immigrants have the opportunity to become millionaires, if they work hard. But, a gift of $450,000? In my, generally non-political opinion, that's a slap in the face to all of our immigrant ancestors.....one, two, even four or five generations back. 

Dear all-accepting Lord. You never promised us a rose garden. Life is not easy, and we are not perfect. As we count our blessings, help us to remember those less fortunate. Remind us to take care of others.

Naturally!!!!!!!

Popped a bag of Microwave Popcorn, for Scott last night. While putting the used bag in the trash, I happened to read a short sentence, displayed prominently on the paper. "Only Real Ingredients"'. 

Now, I'm sure that this statement was meant to reassure all snackers, that the popcorn and all flavorings were safe and sanitary. But, is "Real", the correct word? Would you ever be tempted to eat "un-Real ingredients"? What would "un-Real" ingredients be? The popcorn was "Real". The included butter was "Real". The salt was the same. So, what "un-Real" items could the manufacturer have added?  

The next time you eat a packaged item, please check to see that there are no food "spirits" or "ghosts" included. Make sure you are not inadvertently eating invisible, imaginary, or fake spices, solids or liquids. I don't know how someone could eat something that isn't real. If food isn't real, does it have calories? No pretend food for us!

Strange but true. 

Great Lord. The world is full of unexplainable items. We must remember that all good things come from God. You are our reality.

Cooling Off.....

October and November are my favorite months of the year. By October 1st, our home is festive with ceramic and crocheted pumpkins, fall leaves and happy witches. Autumn is my happy time.

I enjoy the weather in these autumn months. Summers in Kansas City, can be brutal. The heat and humidity, in July-August, can take your take your breath away and fog up a person's glasses. We don't have ocean breezes. Actually, I don't think we have any time of breezes, in Summer.  And, I hate to sweat. My mother used to say, "a lady never sweats, she glows". Phooey!

Our coldest month, in the mid-Midwest, is January. We don't have snowfalls that last weeks and weeks, but we do have our share of ice storms. If you can make it through January, without a serious slip and tumble, then you can start to count your blessings. Going down, on ice, can cause a sprain or a broken bone, but most often it just causes embarrassment. Slips usually occur on your first step outside. Ice is sneaky. Then, it never fails that a neighbor, driving slowly by (because of the ice), will observe you flailing in the air, before you make your non-graceful landing. Then, of course, you slip and slide and can't get up! What a show!!!!

Spring is always wet, and the yard work is never ending. Grass can grow inches overnight.

So, I am enjoying the cool mornings and the many-colored leaves of Autumn. What a blessing!

Giving Lord. I don't think it is a coincidence that our Thanksgiving Holiday, occurs in Autumn. Thank you for giving us this time to reflect and to be truly grateful.

AND ANOTHER THING......

 I think I will add a new item to my "Life Is Too Short For........list". 

TAKE A CHANCE.....No one likes rejection, but the opposite of rejection is recognition. You'll never know what can happen, unless you try.

I have all of the birth and death dates, that I need, in my Ancestor Search. I have spouse names and children's names, census records, and obituaries. All of this information dates back, on all sides, at least 4 generations. I've done the DNA thing, and visited the hometown library for more data. Thankfully, I've had assistance from an old friend and various relatives. 

Now, I am leaping out onto the Internet, to ask some "story" questions. And, much to my surprise, people, on certain Historical Websites, fired back some terrific answers. People remembered the family homestead at 1029 E. 10th, the nice folks that lived there and their fish pond! Others commented on the small grocery store owned by a great aunt and uncle. They were remembered as a kind couple who sold penny candy to the local kids. One person had worked for them. Other comments included a shout out to my Pittsburg cousins, and a nice remembrance of my own father. 

I have reached out to a local business historian, and although she couldn't find the information, that I was seeking, we discovered we knew some of the same hometown people, and that connection was a real bonus to my research.

I am blessed. What a wonderful journey.

Holy Lord. We must count our blessings. Life is so very, very short. Enjoying the present, along with the past, should be our goal. Your Love endures forever.

There you go........

 Listen up, folks! Life is too short for the following things:

• Cheap Soap. If someone gives me a gift of nice soap, a lovely smelling candle or rich lotion, I'm going to use them, ASAP. I'm not leaving that stuff in my top dresser drawer or on a shelf. I'm worth it!
• Being stingy with compliments. For Pete's Sake, let people know that you like them, what they did or how they look. The heck with being PC. I believe 9 out of ten people appreciate compliments. Your good comment may be a life changer. Be truthful.
• Eating or drinking bad stuff. When forced to decide between eating something I don't like or not eating at all, I am going to choose to do without. I have enough stored fat on this old body, that I will not be starving to death, anytime soon. Be honest.
• No hugs or shaking hands. I have seen too many people, in the last two years, suffer or die from loneliness, because of Covid protocol. Therefore, I am, from now on, going to hug people and shake their hands. (I'll wear a mask, wash my hands, and hold my breath, however, after I do it.) Show God's Love.

Okay Lord. We know we need to ask for patience and understanding. But, sometimes we just need to be bold. You have cautioned us about being "wishy washy", and we should heed Your advice. Please, guide us to be discerning, and careful in our zeal. 

Old Enough to.........................

 The most unusual thing happened to me, yesterday afternoon. 

Scott and I took a trip to the local grocery/liquor store, to pick up a few items. While perusing the vast wine area, I ran into a long-time friend, Judy, who was also shopping for wine. We made our selections, and I proceeded to the check-out counter. She continued to shop.

The clerk rang up my purchases. I pulled out my Debit Card and started to push it into the card reader. "Wait! the checker said. "I need to see your I.D."  Stunned, I must have done a double take. Actually, it was a miracle, that I didn't fall on the floor laughing. However, I recovered enough to say, "I'm seventy-five years old and you want to card me? This makes my day. It's been around 50 years since someone has asked me to prove my age!" She replied that she had to card everyone. It was a rule. 

Fumbling through my bag, I pulled out my Medicare Card, and asked her if it would do. She said, she thought so. I smiled and left. On the way to the car, I remembered my friend, who is, ten years my senior. I wondered what she thought about having to show legal proof of age, at her age?

Here's my thought for the day. OLD LADIES ROCK!

Dear Lord. We are blessed in so many ways. We thank You.

Well, It Sounds Good......

Every family has its stories. We tell the stories and we hear the stories and they get passed down as we remember them, for generations. One of my families stories involves the ancestry of my Great- grandmother, Jennie Stanley Wintle. For years, my sister and I were told that she was an American Indian. There are only a few people remaining that knew Jennie, and they also believe that she was a least part Native American. We cherished the notion that we were somehow long lost Indian Princesses.....along the line, perhaps of Sacagawea or Pocahontas.

Well, I've been doing quite a bit of genealogy research on the Wintle-Stanley Family. My discoveries tell me that Jennie, may actually have been named Jane. She  was born in Illinois, and lived in several places in Kansas, during her lifetime. Her mother's name was Emily and her father was Charles B.  One of her brothers was named Sherman, which is also my grandfather's (Jennie's son) middle name. Jennie's father was a miner, as was at least one of her brothers. I discovered that this brother, also name Charles, was "blown to shreds" in a mining accident in the early 1930's. 

Jennie and Walter Wintle had eight children, that reached adulthood. They all lived in and around the same small town in Kansas, along with several generations of their offspring.  I have photos of all of these people, and many pages of newspaper articles and notices, documenting their lives. But, nowhere can I find any tribal connection for Jennie Stanley Wintle. 

I am not an Indian Princess. I am just an average old American woman, with ancestors coming from many different places to America, years and years ago. I can live with that.

Dear Lord. We are, very simply, your children. We belong to Your Family. Show us how to live together in peace and harmony.

PATINA

 My husband and I proudly exhibit, free of charge, what everyone seems to be paying oodles and oodles of money to get. We have PATINA!

Take barn wood, for example. Numerous houses, in our neighborhood, have been enhanced with weathered, beat-up, nail-holed barn wood. It's an attractive look, and I'm letting you know that we have the same attributes.

Distressed fabric and leather are also "in". The more wrinkled, shredded and torn the better. Guess what? As 75 year olds, we're there.

Hammered Copper? That's us. Rusted iron? Of course. 

We are aging naturally.......and we're worth thousands.

Dear Lord. Thank you for sticking with us, for the long haul. You are our constant.

Gene and Roy

 Our brother and sister-in-law went to a performance of the "Sons of the Pioneers", last week. However, no one they know, in their Texas town, was old enough to remember that illustrious Western Swing Group, so they had to call us, their oldest living relatives, in order to find folks to tell about their experience.

If you mention phone booths, door to door delivery of milk and live phone operators, to your children, they might call your doctor. They probably never went to a shoe store, where clerks fitted and helped you choose shoes. You have to be at least 70, to know about or have experienced most of those things. Do they still have stick shift or manual shift cars? Who remembers gasoline, with lead, and the men who used to pump it in the gas tank for you. Linoleum floors? If you do, you're old.

Old is okay. Old makes you wiser, although very few young folks will give you credit for knowing anything. But, we know they will appreciate our knowledge, eventually.......when they are old and they themselves are, "Drifting Along with the Tumbling Tumbleweeds".

Dear Lord, Your Steadfast Love Endures Forever.

  

Speaking of Numbers....

 I'm having another birthday. It's no big deal. Fact is, that birthdays occur once a year, whether we choose to count them or not.  However, this year it's the big Seven Five. Three quarters of a century. Who would believe it!!!

Did you ever stop to consider the list of numbers that we need to know and use every day? One is your Social Security Number (everyone has one...a nine digit number). Until recently, your SSN was also your Medicare number. Now, thanks to the wisdom of our government, all seniors will have another number to remember, as our Medicare numbers will change.
Then, there are telephone numbers. Most everyone, these days, has a phone that will automatically dial a number associated with a name, which was previously entered into the memory of the phone. But, we still have to remember our own phone numbers! Yikes!
How about your house or apartment number, zip code, or employee number from work? If you have certain medical issues you might need to keep a mental record of your blood sugar count or your blood pressure (one number over the other), or the numbers of your good cholesterol and your bad cholesterol (which is which?????), and report them to your doctor. More numbers! Then, when you are still reeling from trying to remember those numbers, the same nurse will ask you what year you had your last tetanus shot or when and if you had a flu shot, in the last 12 months.  More numbers!
License plate numbers, credit card numbers, bank account numbers, tax numbers, number at the DMV counter, etc. I could never list all of the numbers we must know.
After all, they are just numbers.

Dear Lord. You are number one. You always have been. All of the other numbers are just temporary.
Remind us to put You first in our lives.

Pieces and Parts

Today, I threw out an ancient tome of history......a lap-sized 1950's, Junior High Scrapbook.  Now, it could be that you do not know what I am writing about, so I will explain. Pre-teen girls traditionally keep stuff, and the neatest way to archive that stuff, years ago, was to paste those items into a big book. My book had really "groovy" graphics on the front and dozens of construction paper pages, and it was full of my very important keepsakes.

My scrapbook contained a few newspaper articles, now brown and brittle with age. I had pasted dance cards and party napkins from some school dances on several pages. Programs and player rosters, from basketball and football games. were apparently worthy of keeping. I kept birthday cards and a few photos of classmates. Post cards from various friends, as they made family trips, were treasures, too.

Since I have hauled this awkwardly sized scrapbook, from residence to residence for 70 years, it was a bit difficult to pitch. But, I did it. I told myself that I was saving  my kids are from having to do the job, in the future. Seriously, the pages were crumbling and making a big mess. I kept a few of the treasures and I plan to send them to a few old friends. I'll let them throw them away!

Dear Lord. Thank you for our memories. Stuff, mental and physical, is just stuff, and all of us need to let it go. We are blessed.

ONLY A MATTER OF TIME

Have you become your parents? No. Well, if you think it won't happen to you......just wait. 

It was just a short time ago, when I would hop in the car and do the grocery shopping, as fast as I could. I'd grab anything that looked good and hurry home. Now, just like my mother, I make a list, drive ponderously to the super market, check every price, and every ingredients label, then and only then do I make my purchases. 

My husband and I have begun to take short (or long) rides around town and out into the countryside, just for entertainment. I remember my grandparents doing that. OMGolly. So far, thank goodness,  I haven't heard my husband ask, "Where are we going today, MAMA?" (Grampa Tom always called his wife, my grandma, Mama!)

Then, there are the doctor's appointments. Our wall calendar, attached by magnet to the fridge, used to denote notes about future trips, lunch dates and the kid's sports events. Now, our schedule consists of the dates and times of trips to our various doctors. And, some of those future appointments are 6 months to a year off. Only old people have calendars like that. At least we are optimistic enough to assume we will be well enough to make them!

Every morning, I put on comfortable clothes and shoes. And although, I haven't yet succumbed to the temptation to wear to sandals with ankle socks, I can't remember the last time that I wore a dress and heels. 

"The times they are a changin'", and we are happy to go with the flow.

Gracious God, we thank you for our long lives. You have given us countless blessings.

Just A Number

Most of us remember an exercise in elementary school that taught the "value" of large numbers. Sometimes it was collecting a hundred bottle caps or 100 empty soda cans (they were easy to recycle...two lessons in one!) Or in the case of a few of us, writing a sentence like..."I will not (cheat, talk, copy, etc.) in class.", was the punishment for misbehavior. Having to write anything, a few hundred times, was a lesson well remembered.

In the 1953, there was a movie entitled, "How to Marry a Millionaire". Well, it wasn't an award winner. It was just a bit of badly acted fluff, but "a Millionaire". Wow. That seemed like a lot of money, in the 1950's. 

Fast forward to 2021. Now, were are seeing and hearing the words BILLIONS and TRILLIONS. To tell you the truth, I'm having a hard time wrapping my mind around those numbers. I can't even imagine a number like that! It's only a matter of time before we hear quadrillions, or more.

So, here's my idea for those folks who want to borrow, mint or raise taxes, to cover those exorbitant spending numbers. How about asking them to handwrite the word DEBT, 3 or 4 trillion times? They should be made to visualize and actually experience how much that number really is! That would be a wake-up call, to our legislators, and I think we would see more responsible governing, in the future. 

Dear Lord. I pray for our nation. We must all take responsibility. Give us strength and discernment. You are our Guiding Light.

A few years ago......

I want to write a few words about marriages. In the past few years, I have learned a lot about "the long haul" kind of union.  I know that I am not alone, when I sometimes struggle with caring for a spouse with mobility issues. And, because I know that there are many, many good men and women in the same place as me, I forge on, and in the process, I have learned to appreciate those folks who signed on for marriage, when they and their spouses were young and healthy. 

So, here we all are. Fifty, sixty and yes, seventy years later. We're definitely not young and every one of us has some health issues. But, all those years ago we vowed "for better or for worse", and we meant it. It hasn't always been easy, but it has been worth the struggle. We are keeping on, keeping on. Because. to quote those ancient philosophers, Lennon and McCartney...."All you need is love."

Happy Anniversary and many more to Karen and Mike, Judy and Richard, Sue and Jim, Larry and Julie.

Dear Lord. We are thankful. We are blessed.

   

Drop It

I just watched a fairly horrendous event of TV, which was also witnessed, in person, by several hundred by-standers. However, I don't think anyone really saw what was happening. To a person, they were all recording the activity, on their phones and other electronic devices. Stuff like this happens all of the time. Pictures and videos are great, but who, these days, can actually say, "I saw that. I was there. I remember when...." We are all so busy waving our phones around, trying to get the best angle, that we truly can't experience anything. Let alone be of any help!

"Dad, did you see my homerun?" "No, son, but I got a video of it." "Honey, look at the baby. She's taking her first step." "Hold it. I'll get my phone."

Riots happen. People get mugged and killed. Who intervenes? Nobody. Home runs are hit and races are won. Who sees these events? Nobody. We are all to busy trying to get a picture or video on our phones. 

What ever happened to the "live" experience, in today's world? Can you actually tell anyone your thoughts, feelings or concerns, when that "recorded" event occurred? Trust me. Life is passing us by, folks. Memories, not videos, are precious. Our memories of sights, sounds and even smells, will be in our thoughts, long after the photos are erased or lost.

Dear Lord. We are thankful for technology. It is a wonderous thing. But, it doesn't compare to Your Love and the Grace, that we have been freely given. We praise Your Holy Name.

 

Merry Christmas

 The Hallmark Channel, on our cable TV, is celebrating "Christmas in July", by airing, almost every day in July, at least one of their many Christmas Movies. Good on them. Being a fan of "feel good movies, that always end with a kiss", I've been joyfully watching these movies.....including two, I saw last night.

Yes, all Hallmark movies are predictable. I've written about them before. But, Christmas in July? Well, think about it. Talk about great marketing! People watching Christmas Movies in July, will start thinking about ordering holiday cards AND all of those movies are also great advertisements for Hallmark's artificial Christmas Trees and Wreaths. Every one of those movies feature gorgeously decorated trees........all made by Hallmark. Hundreds of folks are ordering Balsam Hill greenery, as I write this blog. Then, there are the ornaments. Dozens of new ones every year, and because many of them are dated, they are collectible and expensive.

Your local Hallmark store is awaiting your visit. Get your credit cards ready. Donald Hall would be proud. Kansas City is appreciative of your business.

Dear God. Thank you for our many blessings. We love to celebrate Your Birth. I sincerely hope our preparations make You smile. We praise Your Holy Name.

How could we have missed that?

 A TV commercial, airing currently, features a couple bemoaning the fact that they were not aware that their new home was at the end of an airport runway. They admit that they "missed" that fact, as a plane roars past their picture window. It's very funny. However, it reminded me our similar experience.

Nearly 50 years ago, we purchased a house, located on a bluff overlooking the Missouri River. Perched at one of the highest elevations in Kansas City, we enjoy our spectacular view of the city's skyline. Our yard is huge. Wildlife (fox, groundhog, wild turkey and deer) often visit our property. The neighborhood is safe and our children walked to their grade school, just down the street. It's been a terrific place to live.

However, shortly after we moved in (1978), we were surprised when a twin engine aircraft crashed into our neighbors house! Trapped in her home, our neighbor had to escape from her burning house. No one on the ground was injured, but the three folks in the plane were killed. Similar to the commercial, noted above, it never dawned on us, that our new home was located just a couple of hundred feet off the flight path for the Municipal Airport. 

I guess we could have moved, but we didn't. I took heart in the thought that airplanes rarely crash in the same spot, twice. And, all these years later, we haven't had another air-related incident. We have even enjoyed front row seats, on our deck, for several air shows originating from the airport. We've had eye level views of every type of aircraft imaginable. I've even waved at a President or two, as Air Force One slowed down for a landing. 

Dear God. Life is full of surprises. Our faith in You and Your everlasting love gives us joy.  

And, furthermore...........................

 A couple of months back, I wrote a post about things in my life that were causing me confusion. I wrote a list. Here are several additions to my original list:

• Why do I think of Alfred E. Newman ("What me worry?" Mad Magazine, circa 1960), every time I see Dr. Anthony Fauci?
• Why does the price of a can of green beans double, when the salt is removed? Check this out the next time you visit the supermarket. Take something away....and it costs more? Ridiculous!
• Whatever happened to highway entrance ramp signs? Specifically, the ones that said YIELD.
• What ever happened to REGULAR products? I have been trying to buy some regular grits, and I have actually checked 6 different stores. Maybe it's because I live North of the Mason-Dixon Line. Or perhaps, most folks do not have time to cook and everyone is in a hurry, because all the packages, I have found, are labeled Instant or Quick. No one sells regular grits in Kansas City!

So, I continue to be confused. Life is a mystery.

Dear Lord. Keep an eye on Your poor children. We struggle when we try to make sense of our lives.

Remind us that you are in charge and it is useless for us to worry. We praise Your Holy Name.

June Bugs

Today,  I did a little bit of research on Father's Day. The honoring of Father's goes back for centuries. Originally it was celebrated on March 19th, St. Joseph's Feast Day. Most countries, in this modern era, allot to Dad, a single Sunday in June, 

When our boys were young, most families with little ones, spent the day at Worlds of Fun (Kansas City's take on Disneyland). We never did that. The last place my husband wanted to be, was the amusement park on a 100 degree day, with hundreds of screaming youngsters, all but four of them, not his! He often spent His Day, directing a Church Choir, mowing the lawn, or grilling, for the family, on the deck. (Not really "taking it easy", but the rest of the family, appreciated his efforts.) 

Fathers take a lot of grief these days. They get blamed for crime....... because they are absent from the home. They get ridiculed and verbally abused..........because they are clueless, in Sit Coms and TV ads. Dads are even known for their terrible jokes! As a society, we seem to be pretty harsh, in our treatment of Fathers. 

Most of us have been fortunate to have had good fathers. My dad worked the night shift, to provide a nice home for his family. He was very handy with tools, but he could also fashion a reasonable Pony Tail hairdo, for his youngest daughter. He cooked lunch for us every day. One of his specialties was scrambled eggs and Bologna. He was far from perfect. I joke that I was seven or eight, before I realized that my name was not Domkop. But, there was even an element of love in that odd endearment. 

All Dads are remarkable, in one way or another. Their stories are different and their parenting styles are unique. Let's celebrate our Fathers and Substitute Fathers, every day. Don't focus on their short-comings and faults, but on the many things we have learned from them. 

Great and Holy Father. We are blessed. We remember You and Your Son. Happy Father's Day.

Questions????????

 There was a time when the email, that I received, was of some importance. Filling my inbox, were notifications of meetings, newsy notes from my friends and an occasional posting from my Dentist or the car repair place. I took the time to read them and type out answers, as promptly as possible. These days, I seem to get nothing but meaningless ads. Why?

Every morning, I delete 20 to 30 purchase requests. Now, I know that if you surf the Net, for new underwear or a product to clean your kitchen floor, you will most likely get advertisements for those items for weeks. They will continue to pop-up, even after you have decided what to buy and the merchandise has been delivered to your door. But, most of the items, for which I get unsolicited ads, I have never heard of or even thought about. How and why does that happen?

The Internet has become, for me at least, a waste of my time and effort. Except for use as a phone directory or encyclopedia, I mainly use our desktop for genealogical research and to play word games. Oh, I am not planning on jumping off-line anytime soon. I will continue checking my email every day, scrolling though Facebook, looking for "Jokes from George" and hoping for some classmate news. However, because I will be dodging the unwanted ads, I'll be grumbling the whole time.

Computers are important and prominent in our modern lives. I just wish that we could program them for more constructive purposes.

Dear God. Technology is a wonderful gift. Remind us to use it wisely. Remind us that communicating with our most important resource, You, doesn't require a password. 

Look at that!

 As the old saying goes, "April showers bring May flowers." And, starting tomorrow..."June will be busting out all over." Our yard has its usual annual flower bounty, giving color to the yard. Peonies and iris, planted years ago by the previous owners of our home, pop up like clockwork, every Spring. 

This year, thanks to our one and only daughter, we have a new addition to the flora abunda. When Amy and grandson Alex were visiting in March, they planted some seeds in our naked patio pots and several bare flower beds. Now that Spring has sprung, we have surprise flowers, in lots of unexpected places.

One of the varieties that has started to blossom, is scientifically named Centaurea Cyanus. But, we have always called them Bachelor Buttons. As a child, I remember them growing wild in the alley, beside our house. The spindly blue flowers were considered to be weeds. No one actually planted them. They just came up, faithfully, in the same place every year. And, I liked them.

Come to think of it, aren't unexpected blessings some of the best things life has to offer. Think about it. Don't you just love a surprise phone call from a old friend, or an unexpected visit from a grandchild? 

Surprises are treasures which we should give abundantly....just like Bachelor Buttons.

Great and generous Lord. We are blessed. Remind us to take time to be spontaneous.

Cluck

 Recently, a question was posed on Facebook, wanting to know what made your hometown famous? Actually the post was written as "What is your hometown famous for?" But, that wording is worth  a whole other story!

I had the answer immediately......Chicken. Yes, my hometown is famous for its Chicken Restaurants. There are probably more chicken joints, in Southeast Kansas, than any other area of the country. One every few city blocks, I think. However, my hometown is most famous for two particular chicken restaurants, located across a two-lane road from each other. They are both famous for their longevity and widespread  popularity.

Chicken Annie's and Chicken Mary's boast similar menus, basically fried chicken and sides, and the locals always prefer one above the other. Mary's has always served spaghetti with their chicken and Annie's offers potato salad. As I was growing up, your family was either a Mary's fan or an Annie's devotee. Rarely was a family known to dine at both!

My family started eating at Chicken Annie's in the early 1950's. It was always packed, so Dad went in and gave them our name. We waited in the car until our name was called from the loud speaker attached to a pole, in the parking lot. I remember that the whole area smelled like grease and garlic. Waiting made me so hungry! 

Dining was in the Pichler's former family home, and we ate at a table, in one of the rooms. Family photographs were hung on the walls. Mary's, as you can imagine, had a similar set up. My order was always the same. I had the fifty cent (two pieces) dark meat meal, washed down with a Grape Nehi. 

The menu, over the past 75 years or so, has grown a bit larger, but it's still the crispy fried chicken that  most people request. Both restaurants are now housed in modern, accessible buildings. Grandpa Zernghast's picture no longer hangs from a nail on the wall. Yes, my home town is famous for its chicken, and I'm hungry for some, right now.

Dear Lord, we are thankful for our roots. Our past, the joys and the sorrows, is what has made us who we are. Thank you for the memories.

COLORIZED

It took me over a year to finish painting our kitchen walls and cabinets. I know timewise, that seems like an awfully long stretch, but it took me a bit longer, because I decided to paint the inside of the cabinet doors. Look, I'm over 70 years old, and it takes me a long time to do anything! Last fall, we hired a company to paint the outside of our home. The yellow color was dated.

Now, according to the design experts in the daily newspaper, we have a big problem. All of our recent color choices have centered around the color gray. Our house is "elephant ear", with white trim and our kitchen is "soft smoke". Gray, it seems, is out....way out, in decorating. Without knowing it, the Kincaids have committed a fashion faux pas.

We should have known better than to choose a trendy color. Several homes on our street are different shades of gray. But, color pallets are known to come and go. If you are old enough you will remember Avocado Green and Harvest Gold. Were they hot or what? Then, what about Country Blue? The interior of our home could have been mistaken for a robin's egg or an cheerful ocean! I went crazy over blue. 

So, gray is on it's way out. Seriously, so are we all! I'm too darn old to think about doing it any of these major projects again, just to have a trendier color scheme. Now, I am working on painting our front door.  It shouldn't take me over a month, maybe. Over the past 60 years, the door has been painted brown, black, red, green and lastly gray. Now, it's going to be bright yellow.

Lord, we find it hard to embrace changes. But, we know that  change is inevitable, and that it is not our plans that matter, it is Your plan. Teach us acceptance and remind us that we are blessed. 

Time after time.

I have a long time friend. When I say that she has been my friend for a long time, I mean it. Our friendship has been very special. 

We began our friendship, across an alley. Now we live hundreds of miles apart, but each and every phone conversation, we have had since, takes up right where we left off, the last time we talked. 

Once, I walked her home, when she fell and broke her arm in front of my house. We considered ourselves pretty great sidewalk skaters, but those metal wheels weren't very flexible, and the concrete was awfully hard. Friends support each other during the bad times.

She shared with me the first air-conditioning, I had ever experienced, in 100 degree summers. We rode our two-wheelers everywhere. And, those friends are there in the comfortable times.

Each of us had one sister, a mother and a father who made us feel loved and cared for. We have shared many thoughts and concerns, for each other, over many years. We are wives. We are mothers. We are grandmothers. We are friends.

Dear God, Thank you. Life must be very hard, without friends. I am blessed.

That spells MOTHER!

Because I have begun to write my own life story, I've become more than a bit reflective. My three a.m. thoughts, this morning, were of motherhood. 

Folks have written about motherhood, since the beginning of time. Not much was recorded about Eve. Judging from her children, we could say she had a 50% success rate. I've done much better, by that standard. Each of my four children are upstanding citizens and hard workers. They have never been charged with a major crime, or even spent time, in custody of the police. (At least, I am not aware of any such happenings.)

Jo, Beth, Amy and Meg's mother was an admirable role model. Mrs. March held the family together while her husband was off fighting in the American Civil War. In her spare time, she nursed the wounded and sewed for the troops. My accomplishments pale, next to her example. (Of course I had only one girl and three boys. I spent my spare time in the bleachers.)

Mrs. Bennett, the mom in Pride and Prejudice, raised five daughters. But, I'd only give her a C minus in my motherhood rating. Two of her daughters were downright goofy and one behaved very strangely. The two most successful girls, totally disregarded her advice. Her husband never came out of his study and she complained about her "nerves" incessantly. Talk about dysfunction! ( Well, I have other quirks, and thank goodness, my children ignored me, too.)

Looking back, could I have been a better mother? Certainly. If given a "do over", I would change many things. Hindsight keeps me up at night. However, this is fact, not fiction. My daughter is a model mother and my sons are exemplary fathers. I couldn't ask for anything more.

Dear Lord. Thank You for our many blessings. Life is not a destination. We are all on one long road trip. Guide us on our travels and help us to enjoy the journey. We praise Your Holy Name.

"I'm gonna sit right down and write myself a ..........."

 If you are reading this, you know that I enjoy writing. But, I am also a reader. Fiction is my favorite, but I also enjoy history and biographies. My last read was historical fiction. And, it was so interesting, I read it, cover to cover, in one delightful afternoon. (Yes, I am enjoying retirement.)

My current read, is an autobiography of an ordinary guy, a casual friend I have known for seven years. And, for an normally calm and personable fellow, I am finding his life story fascinating. Apparently, you can talk to someone. almost daily, and never really know what they have done, seen or believe. Who knew? 

So, this got me to thinking. Remember those "stories" we were required to write, every September, when we started a new year of school? The title was always, "What I Did Over Summer Vacation." Well, here's a thought. We should all write "What I Did In My Life" stories..........our autobiographies. 

All of us leave behind a paper trail of documents, census records, photographs and junk. And, your descendants can amass a ton of this stuff, and still know nothing about you. When most of us depart this world, we do not leave a true record of who we actually were. Writing your own story, would furnish , those who are interested, with a more accurate record of your life. Just give my idea a thought or two, then pick up a pencil or start typing.

I'll look forward to reading your story.

Good Lord. We are all on a journey and You are our Guide. Sometimes the travel is easy, but often we stumble. Our paths are varied and sometimes treacherous. You are our constant.
We praise your Holy Name.

If Houses Could Talk

 We had quite a scare yesterday. Scott announced at breakfast that the fridge was squeaking. This might seem odd, but I took it in stride. You see, about a year ago, our kitchen stove began intermittently squeaking, upon reaching it's programmed temperature setting. At that time, we called our trusty appliance repair man, Steve. He came out and turned the stove on. Then, he took a seat and waited until it started squeaking. Right on cue, it started squeaking. Apparently, a squeaking stove is normal, because Steve saw no reason to make any repairs. He charged us for a house call and went on his way. BTW, the stove is still squeaking.

So now it appeared as if the refrigerator had the same malady, so we made an appointment with Steve. Early this morning we were awakened by a much louder squeak. I recognized that noise as a bad battery on one of our alarms. So, I pulled the ladder from the garage and yanked down the smoke alarm and the carbon monoxide alarm. Both are located in the hallway, and by the time I got the ladder set up, the two of them were squeaking. Mission accomplished. No more squeaking.

But, later, I continued to hear the squeak from the fridge. Or did I? On closer review, the squeak was coming from the pantry, next to the fridge. A spare alarm, purchased at the same time as the hall alarms, (Scott buys by the bulk) was being stored in that cabinet. I removed that battery. The problem will be solved, after a trip to the home supply store, to purchase batteries, later this morning.

However, Steve is still scheduled to make an appearance today, at our home. The dishwasher is growling!

Did God. We are blessed to have so many modern conveniences. And, we are blessed to know someone who can repair them. Remind us to be thankful.

 

Konphuzdnanzi

Being an experienced senior citizen, I tend to watch a lot of "old folks" TV. My favorites include the Hallmark channels, some news/opinion shows and PBS. I call my preferences "old folks" TV, because almost all of the commercials are geared to my age group. (PBS theoretically has no commercials....only about 5 minutes at the end or beginning of the show, telling what companies are "bringing" the show to you. And, those aren't commercials? Go figure!)

Anyway, the commercials on the other channels are often for drugs. Now, I don't know about you, but I have always assumed that the my doctors know a lot more about medicine, than I will ever understand. I trust them. They went to Medical School. It wouldn't be my place, to suggest, that I be prescribed one of the medicines advertised on the latest Hallmark show. Not only would I not do such a thing, I couldn't. I'm at a loss to remember the names of these new wonder drugs, from commercial to commercial. The names of these new drugs make no sense and are unpronounceable. No lay person could repeat their names and benefits to their doctors. 

I love words and I am interested in their spellings, their definitions and their origins. So where are these drug peddlers coming up with these names? Even if I could remember Skirizi and Ubrelvy, there is no way to identify what they cure or what symptom they alleviate. 

Maybe someone out there could explain this new mystery to me? Should I be taking Apoquel or Tremfyant.

Precious Lord, we are blessed to be living in this enlightened era. Watch over us and guide us, as we negotiate what we do not understand. You are our constant and our hope.

Confusion rules!

 As time passes, I realize that I am gradually getter more and more confused. I'm not nearly as smart as I used to be. Common sense and reasonable answers are becoming more scarce. I don't seem to know as much as I used to think I knew. Currently, these things are messing with my normally organized mind:

•  How does a giant, skyscraper sized ship, get crossways in a canal? What happened there?
•  How can you order stuff from Walmart, via the Net, and sometimes it arrives before you get up from your computer?
• Where in the world is Sevastopol?
• With all of the products available for purchase, why do I keep seeing the same seven commercials, over and over? Don't advertisers want me to buy something new and different?
• Is it possible to defund politicians? They don't seem to be making wise choices and frankly, they are of no use to me.
• Have they stopped selling mirrors at Walmart? If they do, why do some folks leave their homes looking the way they do? And, OMG, who invented leggings?

Dear Lord. We never stop questioning. Grant me peace.

        

"Rover crossed Over"

 In this time of uncertainty and chaos, it seems like now is a good time to focus our thoughts on the things for which we are truly thankful.  Because we normally just plow through life, getting irritated when things don't go as planned, we tend to focus on what causes our road blocks and stops our progress. So, reverse that and start enjoying the blessings in our lives.

• Isn't it great to be alive and experience the changing of the seasons? The Red bud trees are starting to bloom and the daffodils are brilliantly yellow. But, even the first snowfalls of winter , autumn colors and summer showers are beautiful!
• Aren't grandkids wonderful? We love it, when we get to see them. They always have something new and exciting happening to them and they can't wait to share with us. 
• Taking a ride or walk, through new or even old territory, is always an eye opener. It's great when you observe familiar surroundings in a new light.
• Getting a phone call from an old friend or making a call to a friend that you haven't talked to in a long time. What a great feeling! 
• Learning something new. Yesterday, a NYT Crossword clue was "Rudy Vallee song that rhymes Cuba and Tuba". What? Well, I worked on it and the answer was "YUBA", from the song "Yuba does the Rhumba down in Cuba". What a surprise! Ridiculously marvelous.  

Now, it's your turn........ 

Dear Lord. We are so blessed. We know that, but most of the time it is so much easier to focus on our woes and complaints, than it is to be thankful. Don't let us forget that we have what we truly need, in You.

      

"ON THE ROAD AGAIN....."

 Last night, while briskly walking through a restaurant parking lot, trying to remember where I parked my car, I looked to my left and spotted a very odd, yet familiar automobile trunk. I stepped closer and, low and behold, the car was a Chevy Corvair coupe......a 1963 model, to be exact. Parked next to it, in a row, were 4 other Corvairs, most of them of the same year, I think. How, you're asking yourself, did I know this????? Well, in the summer of 1963, my Much Older Sister (MOS) and I , along with our parents and Grandpa (in a much less cooler car), embarked on a road trip, to far off California. And, the two of us took turns driving her brand new gold, Chevy Corvair. That was our first Road Trip.

Over the years, my MOS and I have had quite a few Road Trips. They have all been memorable. On one, we left our trusty Road Atlas (that was before GPS), at the very first stop. Together, we have navigated the hazards of numerous metropolitan road mazes, including Chicago, Indianapolis, Philadelphia and D.C. 

We called these our "Thelma and Louise" trips". Along the way we sang a lot of camp songs, harmonizing and giggling. We bought funny hats and wore them. We got lost, a few times, but we always managed to get to our targeted destination and back home.

I'm ready to go again! All of this proves, without a doubt, that Sisters Are the Perfect Best Friends.

Dear Lord. Thank you for family.

PERSPECTIVE

We all have done a lot of complaining in the last year. Since March of 2020, we have whined about having to wear masks. (I discovered that I do a lot of lip-reading, and that's not possible, with masks) We can't visit our favorite restaurants......and now, some of them are now closed, forever. Shopping has been a no-no. Go out and get what you need, don't linger, and go right home! Oh, and let's not forget about the "toilet paper and Kleenex shortage". That was awful. We've really have had a lot to complain about. 

Now that some of the restrictions are finally being lifted, I was recently able to attend an outdoor Memorial Service for persons, in our retirement community, who had died in the past year. Everyone wore masks and social distancing was practiced, but just being able to gather, as a group, was so wonderful. 

Sixty-seven names were read. Sixty-seven out of less than three hundred residents. That put things in perspective, for all of us who were there. Most of those folks who died, in the past twelve months, did not die of Covid, but of loneliness and sadness. All of them were seniors, and most with some medical issues, but what they had in common was the horrible isolation. Most of them died without the comforting arms and hands of their families. That's tragic. 

Our complaints seem pretty insignificant, compared to tears of those sixty-seven families, mourning their loved ones. My heart goes out to them.  

Dear Lord. We are blessed. We live in the comfort that you are always with us. Show us how to show sympathy and honor for all of Your children.

Trees......But not Joyce Kilmer's variety.

 From what I hear, retirement often causes the "Genealogy" disease. And, the bug has hit me. Now that I am not rushing out of the house, before 8 a.m., every week-day morning, I finally have some time to do family history. 

I've been able, with the help of some great friends, to gather mostly all of the facts that I need, in order to organize the leaves, on several branches of my family tree.  I've found the US Census records, birth records, death records, and photos of most of the graves of my ancestors. almost all of the facts are available, free on the Internet. It's all there, but it takes hours, for amateurs like me, to uncover the data and put it together in a form that makes sense. 

Now, I want to organize my finds, and start writing my recollections of those relatives that have passed. I can remember 3 of my 4 grandparents, very vividly, and I want to get their stories and personalities recorded for my grandchildren, and other interested relatives.

I have not discovered any serial killers or millionaire, among my fore bearers, but I know that there are some exciting stories. I just need to find them. I'm excited about this new task. 

Dear Lord. You know all things. Show us how to be life-long learners. Teach us to appreciate who we are and to honor those who have come before us. Remind us to be aware of those who will follow us. We ask these things in Your Name.

Improvements

 Before settling down every night, I am reminded of those TV commercials which inform us that some of the items, we purchase, may be "genetically modified".  Supposedly, that's not a good thing. But, in truth, most of us, now that we have reached a certain age, are ourselves "genetically modified". I know that I am.

It's impossible for me to sleep, while wearing my hearing aids. Strange high pitched wails are heard, if they are in my ears, when I lie down. So minutes before I hit the bed, I carefully remove them. Then, just before my head hits the pillow, I have to remove my tri-focal eyeglasses. I usually take them off, after I turn out the last light. If I did it any sooner, I might not be able to find the on/off switch on the bedside lamp! 

Science has contributed a couple more items that make my life more livable, but I won't mention them here. Let's just agree that none of us are exactly the same as we were 30 years ago. We've all had a little help.

Dear God. Help us to be the best that we can be. Remind us that we are in Your hands.

Not So Gracefully...............

 Aging is not for the weak. That statement pretty much sums up my life at the present.  I guess that I have been losing strength for a couple of decades, now, but just recently my inability to open "stuff"  has hit me like a ton of bricks. 

Suddenly, bags of snacks are being sealed with atomic glue. Bottles, with plastic screw-off caps are impenetrable and, well, forget about zip open packages, that refuse to zip! I'm having to resort to pliers, scissors and a goofy looking jar-opener to prepare a simple meal.

Is it possible to blame this phenomena on improvement changes in packaging, or do I just accept the fact my my kitchen is starting to resemble a tool shed? I'm using scissors, these days, more than knives! One of my favorite "tools" has become a "razor blade infused" box opener. In the past week, I have used that thing on a ton of stuff, including, a container of double a batteries (sealed so securely, it couldn't be opened by TNT), a plastic encased package of toilet paper rolls (and the rolls were individually wrapped, to boot), and a cereal box liner. Who knew eating breakfast could be such a chore?

Be careful out there, seniors. The Virus is dangerous, but so is a box of saltine crackers

Dear Lord. It's a lack of patience again. Show us how to accept our challenges and give you thanks for our many blessings.

Enough is enough......

 Living in the Midwest, I am certainly accustomed to cold weather. However, it is now the middle of February and I am way "over" Winter. Deep in my heart, I am hoping that like so much of the other media news, Punxsutawny Phil's prognostication will turn out to be "fake news".  Six more weeks of this weather is going to be a drag. 

I'm sick of snow. Sick of shoveling it, sick of driving in it, sick of being careful not to slip and fall in it and totally sick of cleaning up the mess, when it is tracked into the house. I am tired of keeping the blinds and curtains closed, piling on extra blankets at night, and wearing extra clothes all day long. I want to go to bed, without wearing socks!

Snow is beautiful. It makes everything look clean and neat. It covers up the piles of dead leaves and dormant brown grass. I loved playing in the snow, as a kid, but when the temperature is hovering at zero, it's way too cold for kids to be outside. Enough is enough.

I have faith that Spring will come. I'm just very impatient. But, just like everything else I have to wait for, I want Spring, and I want it now. 

Dear Lord. Help me to practice patience. I know it is a virtue. Waiting is so hard. Help me to remember that life is a journey, not just a destination. Teach me to live in the moment.

Need a job?????

 Do you notice "word trends"? That's my label for words that seem to suddenly appear, out of nowhere, in our written and verbal language. And, in a few weeks or months, these words suddenly become part of our vocabularies. They show up, everywhere.

Take the word TEAM. That word has always been used, in regards to sports teams. Locally that would be the Chiefs or the Royals. Those are teams, for sure. But, TEAM has a new meaning. It's the term used to describe the folks surrounding someone.

I don't have TEAM, but I would normally define my team as "family". Family, however, might be seen as too broad in today's language. I could use "squad", but politically speaking, that doesn't send out very good vibes. "Posse" is too violent, and "girlfriends" can't be used because it is too gender specific. "Spokesperson" used to be a widely used term, but then, spokespeople started mis-speaking and things started to get really messy. "Staff" might work, but that word implies employment of others, and since I am currently retired and on a limited budget, I'm in no position to hire anyone.

More and more celebrities are being served by a TEAM. Celebrities all have a TEAM. I need a TEAM. If what I read is true, I could use my TEAM to speak for me, explain my mistakes, and do my work. I would never have to leave my basement. What a deal!

Dear Lord. Sometimes we need to be reminded that, eventually, we will have to take ownership of our sins and errors. We are imperfect souls. We make mistakes. But, You are our constant reminder that no matter what.....You will be with us, forever.

Number 600

 This is my 600th post. My first post was in 2008, so if my math is right, I have been expounding on various subjects for thirteen years. Looking back, I remember the good and the bad. A couple of bouts with cancer, broken bones, milestones achieved, places traveled, grandchildren to watch and so many memories to cherish.

My one constant, without a doubt, has been that my Faith will see me through anything.

Dear Lord. Thank you for pushing me through life's trials and tribulations. My heart is in the right place, but as You know, my mouth, my hands, my feet and my mind often get me sidetracked. Thank You for always being there.

Behind the Grey Clouds

 Until today, I would be hard pressed to say that anything good has come from this awful Pandemic. And frankly, as I headed out this morning (of course, there was a bit of a snowfall last night, and the streets were still snow covered) to the dreaded Missouri Department of Transportation Office, to renew my car license plates, I was absolutely anticipating the worst. 

I was remembering that once, years ago, I had such difficulty registering a car, that even after three trips, to and from the office and nearly bursting into tears, I finally got the job done.  It's always a case of not having the right forms or money or other paperwork. The lines are horrific. Hours can be spent waiting until your number is called. The clerks are, to a person, nasty and unpleasant. And, the place is usually littered with used paper cups and whatever trash the clients leave behind....or thrown down in disgust! And, it smells!

I had been told, by a friend to make an appointment on line, and I made sure that I was there, not too early, but right on time. A nice young woman greeted me at the door. She politely asked me what I needed and I told her. She replied with, "I can help you right here." Four minutes later, I was headed out the door, with my new stickers. 

It was necessary for me to sit in my car, for a few minutes, while I processed the whole event. What a great experience. The Pandemic had forced an annually horrible ordeal, into a pleasurable chore. The new DVM was clean, organized, full of helpful clerks, and I wasn't in tears!

I just knew something good had to come out of all of the misery, of the past 9 months!.

God. We always try to thank you for our blessings. Sometimes we need to look for the silver linings. We need to appreciate that some good things can come from the bad. We are blessed in many ways.

"a poem as lovely as a tree."

 Welcome to the middle of January, Midwest style. Outside, there are the remnant piles, left from the latest snow storm, lining the edges of our driveway. Spring is a distant hope. Christmas ornaments and artificial greenery have been stashed away in closets, until next year. By now, most folks have pitched their dead or dying, foil encrusted, hot-house Poinsettias, into post-holiday trash sacks.

Our living room still sports a tree. We can say that because of its woody stem and its 3 foot height. All of this greenery now emanates from the once spindly little plant, which was given to us, over a year ago. We haven't figured how to dispose of our rapidly growing Poinsettia tree. 

Last Spring, when I realized that our Poinsettia had remained alive all during the Winter, I decided to let it continue to grow outside. So, I put it in a larger pot, gave it some more soil  and put it on the deck to fend for itself. My philosophy has always been, to practice the "let-it-alone" system of plant care. It continued to grow, until the weather got too cold to leave it outside. By then it resembled a well groomed topiary tree. I watered it, brought it inside and set it on our hearth. In November, some of its leaves had turned bright red. Over night, we had a marvelous piece of Yuletide cheer.

But now what? We don't want to give it too much attention, or it will surely die. How big will it get? We don't have room for a 4 foot plant. Are there 10 gallon flower pots? And, to top it all off, somebody gave us another little Poinsettia, this past Christmas. 

Gracious God, we thank you for the beauties of nature. Our blessings are many. Help us to keep growing our Faith in You. 

"It's a new dawn, it's a new day..."

 Retiring from my job, the last day of the year, my plan was to begin a new phase of my life's journey, on the same day as the new year began. No more rising before dawn and doing my grocery shopping and errands, after working at a desk all day. I planned to begin a life of randomness and spontaneity. No routines.

However, I have written many times about making plans. My philosophy has always been....We can make all the plans we want, but we are not in charge. God makes the plans!

So, to quote someone.....my best laid plans have gone awry. Unfortunately, I'm not really very good at listening to myself! First of all, it snowed about 5 inches, on a weekend. The city does not clear streets on the weekend. So, we were essentially snowed in. There were no random trips...anywhere, for a while. Then, after waking up every day, for years, at 6 a.m., I find that the habit is hard to break. It seems my inner clock is set around 5:30. 

Yesterday, I was at the grocery store at 8 a.m. I was the first one there. The first parking spot, in front of the door, was vacant. Once inside, I discovered that half of the shelves were empty. It was to early for the stocking to have taken place. Next week, my shopping trip will be planned for later in the day.

Either this retirement thing, is not all it's cracked up to be, or I am going to have to work harder to adapt to this life of leisure.

Dear Lord. Change is growth. We live best when we adapt to life, as it is. We know that life does not adapt to us. Guide us through this journey. You are our constant.