Now that we have a sunroom, Farmer Gary and I notice daily we have several new patches of disturbed earth outside. It’s time to decide what to plant there. We brought up the topic while visiting with John, Aubrie, and Cameron last week. Aubrie loves to garden and is always great with gentle advice – be it regarding fruit, vegetables, or flowers. It’s always fun for John and me to observe our spouses dig in and discuss fertilizer, alkaline levels…
Farmer Gary loves to read the newspaper. Always has. In fact, he’s declared Wednesday to be Newspaper Day each week, as that’s the day most of the weekly papers arrive in the mail. Each Wednesday, Gary dashes out to check the mailbox, then takes over our breakfast bar with his stack and works his way through the periodicals. Sadly, many of the dailies and almost-dailies he grew up reading are no longer … well, appealing. … but there are still…
My first and last reads in August were each a deep dive into an important female pioneer. Both books are well worth the effort. Book 1: Rememberings by Sinéad O’Connor When Sinéad O’Connor passed away suddenly in late July, I wondered if she’d written a memoir. All I knew of her was she often appeared with a shaved head and that she tore up a photo of the Pope on Saturday Night Live in 1992. Now that I’ve read Rememberings,…
Two years ago, as Gary and I finished clearing out Mom and Dad’s house in Connecticut, we set aside all kinds of mementos from their lives that we hoped would fit in the U-Box containers we’d rented. One entire section of the garage was filled with gardening tools. Some I remembered clearly from 50-something years prior. Dad loved to garden. It relaxed him after a long day in the office. A hoe, a rake, or a trowel was a piece…
Have you noticed the proliferation of news stories lately that people are going a little crazy during this pandemic? Crazy is the word for newlyweds John and Aubrie. But in a good way. Good crazy. They’re having fun creating fan art for, of all things, Ordinary Sausage on YouTube. This Ordinary Sausage guy is a bit of a nut, too. His shtick is to make – and eat – sausage out of not-so-sausage-y foods. The ingredients are simply not what…
When I hear people complain about how breathing is uncomfortable in the year of pandemic mask-wearing, I think back to how we put up with a bit of discomfort when there was candy to be gotten. I mean, just look at this thing! See those two tiny holes right beneath this hideous cat’s nose? And right above the back of kitty’s tongue – that tiny slit? That’s how we breathed on Halloween. And no one complained. Growing up in the…
Well, that went fast. Retired. For one full year. It still feels like I’m playing hooky every day. And it still feels great. No second guessing. No regrets. The year itself, though, hasn’t been easy. Mom’s death continues to be mighty tough. Extra visits with Dad have helped a lot, well until the pandemic took over. Thank goodness for phones, texting, and Facetime. John and Aubrie’s wedding is an ongoing ray of sunshine in our lives. The glow of love…
Look! It’s a fingernail moon! Little Thomas was barely more than a toddler when he pointed to the night sky and proclaimed the waxing (or maybe it was waning) moon looked like a fingernail. We were driving at the time (pre-cell-phone days), and I couldn’t wait to get home to call Mom. Her first grandchild had a poet’s heart. Mom absolutely loved the moon. She was fascinated by the changing sizes, shapes, and colors of the moon. Harvest moon, crescent…
The phone rang. I answered even before the first ring was complete. Mrs. Werne? You have a very sick little boy. Pack a bag right now and take him to Riley Hospital. Don’t stop for anything. The date was Saturday, July 25, 2003. The little boy was James. He was only three years old. Friday evening, James wasn’t quite right. He threw up (doubly gross because Gary had brought him a blueberry slushy to drink). As I washed James off…
They’re married! Saturday was a lovely day for a wedding. Since Aubrie and John’s plans for April 18 nuptials ended up as part of the coronavirus quarantine, it was somewhat … diminutive. That’s Cameron’s new word: diminutive. (I’ve since learned that it’s from a Bugs Bunny quote in the movie Space Jam. I can’t wait to tell my father; he’ll be so pleased to know another generation loves that wascally wabbit.) Rather than list what was … er, diminutized, let’s…