THE DUST WILL WAIT

  Last week was TRASH your eyewear week! Thursday: The Hubby decided to paint the hallway. As he bent over to coat the roller, his readers slid off his head and disappeared into the latex Friday: The Hubby was wearing his prescription glasses while he used the skill saw in the garage. A lens just popped right out and onto the bench. When he attempted to pop it back in, he saw the crack in the frame Saturday: The Hubby was reading across from me at the kitchen table. ( which I've confess we share with the cat). I left the room. Whereupon my return I stepped with a huge crunch, barefoot, upon another pair of readers. Which, we presume, was batted effectively off the table by our playful Siamese, Bean.

Today I sat in an office waiting room and felt bereft because I left my phone at home on the charger. Every so often this happens, leaving me feeling vulnerable and sort of technically naked.  It was not boring as I watched people come and go. I got there a bit early  - just an offer to pick up someone else who had an appointment. I twiddled my thumbs,  is that even allowed anymore? A middle aged woman and an early teen age girl sat the closest to me, both nose deep in their electronics. Suddenly there was a loud wail from one of the offices hidden from view.  The sound caused the other woman and I to `eye meet` with a similar opened mouth surprised look. We began to talk about voices carrying, about kids with no inside voice control, and then she told me how her mother learned to "holler" clear across the military base to call her and her siblings home.  She pointed to the girl and said that her youngest could have put that crier we heard to shame wit...

On May 1, 2018 a 37-year old man dropped his two children off at school; the daughter in 8th grade and the son in kindergarten.  He drove towards home and waved at his 36 year old wife as she headed out for her job.   He made several more stops. He purchased some food items and some other specific things from the local super center. From there he drove to a park several miles away on the edge of wilderness area and proceeded to walk down to the river and perhaps back to his car.  Picking up his cell phone he sent several suicide texts to his wife.  She didn't see them until she got out of a hearing she was transcribing as the court reporter.  By that time, he had most likely followed the railroad tracks and turned south towards the  foothills of the Cascades where the trees began to shelter and hide other flora and fauna that thrive in the mountain greenery. That was the beginning of the 76 daze that our family struggled through in agony.  We ...

(October) I took Squeak (17 mos) for a walk with his 9-year old sissy, Curlymop, and their  4-year old cousin Mizelle. Although there were plentiful leaves on the ground, the air was still and nothing falling at the moment. Out of the corner of my eye I detected a movement ahead and high above us.  It was one huge elm leaf on a slow dance descent. It landed right on top and completely covered Curlymop's head. She stopped, turned around, and looked and me with a questionable tilt on her eyebrows.  I smiled and pointed at the top of my head.  She reached up and discovered her adornment. She laughed, "Oh Grandma!  I though you patted me on the head." Later, I shared the moment with her auntie Karmyn.  S he laughed out loud and said,   "I think that old tree patted her on the head!" ***** (September) Mizelle: Let's play SPY, gwamma. Gwamma: Spy? How do we play that? Mizelle (with an exasperated sigh): Like we did before~! Gwamma, totally bewil...

My brother Mike emailed me this photo last night.  He said this was a goodbye salute that he snapped today in his garage where this old freezer has been chugging away since 1988.  That was the year our mama decided she was tired of bending over and digging through it.  Besides, she no longer needed the capacity and hadn't for several years. Mike and my sister-in-law  spent the next 25 years "digging" through this old freezer.  My sis-in-law was very good at keeping it and the cupboards stocked.  The two of them kept promising each other that "It is going to die soon, so we will just keep it until that day." Twenty-five years may seem like a very long life for a freezer.  It is MUCH older than that. Sears only sold Coldspot through 1976.  I thought that my parent's purchased this freezer in the sixties.  My brother said he put the serial number 'on-line' and it matched a 1953 manufacturing date.   Here is a close up of...

I live in a small town.  (Around thirty thousand inhabitants.) I was reminded of that fact yesterday when WR and I stopped at a business that provides cleanup services for homes and businesses.  They hire out teams to mop up after small fires, sewage spills, floods, and other major messes of your choice.  In addition to renting out their staff, they have a small store front in which they display and sell a limited amount of janitorial supplies to others who "clean" for a living. My quest for a real ostrich feather duster was why I ventured there.  I had used my daughter Karmyn's feather duster (while helping her after her surgeries) and thought it made dusting less excruciating . There was something kind of French Maidy about it. Dusting is my least favorite chore, so I won't say I was excited about finding them on display.  I will say, however, that I was pleased there were several choices and they were in my price range.  I chose one and we set...

There is a lot of desert on the way to the Grand Canyon.  Through it, we followed the highway that put Utah in our rear view mirror and the Arizona sunshine on our hood.   We arrived in the park on the east end of the south rim where our first encounter is The Desert View. But this post isn’t about that.  In fact, I don’t know if I can describe the overwhelming smallness of my being as I glimpsed the Grand Canyon for the first time.  The deceptive altitude has already given notice to your lungs, so taking the breath away entirely requires just a short sniff.  As I waited for it to return, I thought about Auntie Ferns statement – I could have stood and looked at it all day .  Yeah. So…… while we joined other people along the viewpoint, I noticed a girl carrying a very young Rottweiler puppy.  She moved closer until she was standing right beside me.  It was apparent that her mother and father were watching closely as other park visitors we...

Gattina, Writers Cramps, has asked her regular readers to:   post pictures which are not at all like you had wanted and describe how it happened.    She is calling it The Muffed Target. Many of you have read about our "elevator" experience at Hoover Dam.  Right after we were "freed" I snapped a few photos in the diversion tunnel.  When my husband was downloading them to his laptop later that night he began to laugh.  I looked over his shoulder to see the following. I have no idea what  I was doing with my camera. From the looks of it I wasn't the only one still a bit freaked.  Forgive me dear lady, whoever you are.

We've been on a road trip for two weeks.  Last night we drove I-84 over Cabbage Hill (Blue Mountains) and stopped to look at the last 45 minutes of road to home. It was our welcome quilt. There is no place like home.

It’s just another day in paradise . Her thoughts bemused her as the sun peaked over the hills and through her curtains. Once more she was awake early. 4:45 am. Is insomnia just my burden to bear? s he wondered. Or are there millions just like her, cracking the dawn hours before the alarm. Her movements woke her husband and he moaned through an exaggerated arm stretch. She rolled over and laid her face against his shoulder. “It’s early hon.” she whispered. “Please lie still and let me spoon you for a few minutes. I need to cuddle.” He agreed. Within moments of repositioning his pillow he relaxed and she counted the 27 seconds it took him to return to nod. Well, that was too easy , she mused. She slid out of bed and padded softly down the hall to the kitchen. Lulling him back to sleep also meant that she assumed the job of barista. He usually brewed the first pot and offered her a cup with just the right amount of cream. Now was a good time to check her E-mail and read he...

I started kindergarten this year.  I loved it. I took a job as an on-call tutor this fall, but my first position fell into another category. For three weeks I was assigned in a classroom with 26 adorable little tykes beginning their first year of school.  I had the opportunity to watch an excellent teacher and assistant in concert.  Without raising their voices or showing any agitation, they directed those kids through the busy day.   They were always on stage and at peak performance.  I wondered where they got the energy. They were good. I had a job to do, too.  But at the end of the day I was exhausted.  Even my face muscles were sore because my smile was constantly twitching.    So, what are some of things I learned in kindergarten? * Chika Chika Boom Boom * I hold my crayon with the three magic fingers * Don't throw the sawdust * Sneeze into your elbow *Don't run in the cafeteria - especially with chocolate milk *Fe...

There is a stretch on Interstate 5, near Salem, Oregon, where Daffodils bloom in gay profusion each spring. I don’t know who planted them in the center strip of the highway. I do know that I love the lavish display of yellow blossoms and the sweet sachet that permeates the interior of my car as I pass. I was lucky this year to drive through when the flowers were in full array. I was even luckier to pass by when a huge burly man wearing a leather vest and a scraggly beard tip toed through them. His hand at the end of a muscled and tattooed arm carried a gorgeous bouquet. A rusty old pickup truck parked beside the southbound lanes with emergency flashers slowed traffic in both directions. I took a few extra peaks at him in my rear view mirror and noticed that I was smiling – not because I recommend stealing flowers or defying 70 mph traffic to filch them. Rather, it was just the incongruity of a hardened man with an armful of handpicked flowers in the middle of a busy interstate...

The mouse business began last month when a bad aroma began to annoy me. I nervously checked the compost crock and the garbage can and even peeked in the oven to see if a piece of meat had been left to die there. My nose finally led me under the sink to a forgotten mouse trap. Sure enough, there was a little furry creature ripening under the hot water pipe. Gag me. The snare and its little feast of long dried up peanut butter had been prepared several month previous; set by WR in response to my reminders (nagging) that we needed to be prepared for the winter mouse invasion. I'd left the primed trap alone, acknowledging each time I noticed it with careful avoidance. After our catch, we were once again aware that the field mice had found shelter under the house. And, that at least one had squeezed through the small opening around the kitchen pipes into the warm cabinet under the sink. WR set another trap with fresh peanut butter. Now I am paranoid. I keep hearing things: Paper...

Not my photograph, but my sentiments. My brand new computer is at the ICU - My 2 year blogging birthday was last week. I can only compare it to a couple spending their wedding anniversary not speaking. Hope that my computer and I are both feeling better soon.

I don’t understand the appeal of Collagen injected lips. When a recent Dancing With The Stars contestant took to the floor, I was reminded of Batman’s great nemesis, The Joker . Then today I saw a recent photo of one of the Vegas Stars. Her lips were so engorged that her cupid bow flat lined and her smile was dead. As unnatural as a pregnant frog. I am reminded of childhood games, when we stretched our eyes, cheeks, and lips through the most extreme contortions. I was quite often the winner of silly face competitions with my impression of the Hunchback of Notre Dame. (I can still do it.) Some of today’s celebrated faces would put my creation to shame with the twisted looks they’ve fashioned with Botox, Collagen, and Lifts. The female celebrities aren’t the only ones that give me pause to gasp. Just the other day I leaned over in my usual head down manner to blow dry my hair. I made a turn just in time to observe my jowls, cheeks, eyelids, and eyebrows resp...

My dad’s constant journeys as a youth left him with little enthusiasm for travel once he settled down. That, combined with the responsibilities of supporting a wife and eight children, left little opportunity for vacations or pleasure trips. So, we didn’t leave home much. I do, however, have vivid memories of our once a year 5 hour drive across state to see my aging grandmother and Aunt Birdie, mom’s eldest sister. Dad would confuse the cow by milking in the wee morning hours. While he cleaned up, mom roused us from our bed and piled us half asleep into the car. We drove into the dawn and cracked it somewhere high in the Cascade Mountains. The distinct odor of burned toast greeted our arrival. Grandma Grace liked it charred. I don’t know how she chewed it – her dentures fit poorly. That’s why I thought she was gritting her teeth when she talked. And, at that time in her life she talked incessantly - to no one in particular. I still picture her wrapped in a b...

I am feeling better today. Loved all the suggestions for cure or comfort. Quite a few of you suggested the drown it in booze method. There were several recipe's included that might just well show up during our holiday celebrations whether I'm sick or not. Thanks to Kathleen Marie for not recommending her pumpkin drink. willowtree ... Rum and bed. Bibi .. My cure (passed on through generations ... this was dad's other cure!) is a hot toddy, lots of warmth, and early to bed. My fave toddy is boiling water poured over Captain Morgan's spiced rum, lots of honey, and mashed lemons. Hmmm I think I feel a cold coming on ... Amanda ... Take a shot of everclear, ma. That will cure about anything! ;o) Beccy .. The only good thing about colds when I was young, dad would give me hot whiskey and lemon and mum didn't say anything about underage drinking. Dad even gave me a bottle of whiskey for medicinal purposes when I went off to university. It didn't last long enoug...

Fun Monday is brought to you by Robin and Pensieve . Her basic premise was: "Shoes tell a lot about a person and we wanna delve deeply into your soul sole. Photograph your favorite pair--or pairs--of shoes and tell us a little about why they're near and dear to your toes heart" There was more, and you are welcome to click over there and enjoy the full nuance of one of Robin's loquacious narrations. You gotta love the way she can use words. (And read the other participants, too!) *********** I worried all week about shoes. Mine are bought for comfort - and purchased with enough room to insert my prescription orthotics. Yes, folks... my days of straps, stilettos, and open toed sandals are over. Even my daughters tell me that my walking shoes look like "Grandma shoes." DUH! Isn't that what their kids call me? Friday night rolled around and the only shoes I would consider sharing were the hubby's bronzed baby booties. Then, we heard about...

In 2006, we were approached by the Hospice Board of Directors with the request that we consider being a host for the next year's fund raiser. The date was already set: September 8, 2007. There were so many things that kept us busy this summer; I was positive that our yard wouldn't be ready for the event. However, last week we battened down the hatches and spent every day after work cleaning, weeding, pruning, and generally getting dirty. The hubby's sister joined in the chore. Then Amanda drove from Portland on Thursday. She worked her fingers to the bone on Friday helping her dad shovel fresh bark on the flower beds. Saturday morning our yard was ready!! Eight other families joined us in opening their homes for this years Pond & Garden Tour fund raiser. It was a great success. The hubby counted over 400 people visiting our house. It was much more fun than I anticipated. Total exhaustion at the end of the day was something else that we were not expecting. Sunday...

Nikki at anticsofacrazymom is hosting this weeks Fun Monday. We've seen your shelves, peeked inside your cabinets, looked at what your house looks like in both the summer and winter, viewed at some of our handmade pieces and even talked about our best friends. Now it's time we do something. Have you ever had someone out of the goodness of their heart do something for you without anything asked in return? Offered you money when you needed it the most? Helped you change a flat tire in the pouring rain or even just simply held the door open for you when you had your hands full? For Monday, September 10th, we are challenged with doing a good deed. I am n ot looking for a story of when you have offered your help in the past, I actually want you in the next two weeks to go out and help someone. Go visit a nursing home, cook dinner for someone sick or with a new baby, donate to a charity or even send just a "thinking of you card" to someone who needs it. It doesn't m...