It seems I always get just a bit antagonistic this time of year. I start ranting at the arrival of cold weather, short days, and the need to scrape frost/ice/snow off my car in the mornings before I can go anywhere. And on top of that, it also means, I have to start bundling up so I won't freeze once outside my cozy house.

I had begun checking the view of my windshield every morning, just in case I needed to get out and kick start the car to avoid the above mentioned scraping. There was no creeping up on the first frost this year. Usually you have a day when you walk out the door and find your breath hanging in a little puffy cloud right in front of your nose. That didn't happen this year, I peeked out the window and there sat my car, covered in a thin candy shell of ice.

As the cold air sets in chilling my bones, so also sets in the night. Here we luxuriate all summer in long idle days and evenings that stretch until 10pm. Now the days are quickly shortening up. It is dark a little after 7 and no longer am I blinded by the rising sun on my way to work... it is just getting to the graying up a bit phase. Of course, when daylight savings time ends we get a small reprieve but it only seems like about a week and it is dark in the evenings. We have a time during the middle of winter when I go to work in the gray of dawn at 8am and come home in the dark at 5. Wait! just a minute.... i don't work until 5 this year. I don't care. I'm going to rant anyway.

My sister has begun planning their departure for Florida with great encouragment for us to join them where it's warm all winter. But if I went, what would I complain about, balmy air, soft breezes, oceansurf, rain showers instead of blizzards... I don't know if I can adjust to complaining about those things. Maybe I should just stay here.

Besides, with all my bitching, there is that wonderful day when you peek out the window and the world has turned into a crystaline wonderland of snowy beauty. I hate snow... but I love it. I love ice crystals dangling from my eaves, I love curling up under quilts with a good book, snuggling down to watch a familiar movie with my cocoa steaming between my hands. Where else but here. I guess I need to just suck it up, admit I'd hate to live anywhere there is no change of seasons; the wonder of fall, the dread cold of winter, the hope of spring and the radiance of summer. Yeah, here is a good place to just be.

funnin' up the chaufferin'

So, what happened is... one day my mom's car came to a time when it was beyond repair. She had it towed to the garage and the mechanic recommended that they shoot it and put it out of its misery. Good plan, I think. Mom at 90 only used the car to drive the few blocks to the store a couple times a week, go to the bank, church... just a little bit of here and there. When she needed to drive out of town, my sister or I took her. Mom drivin' on the highway, not a good idea.

She had been wonderin' when she should just quit driving altogether. She thought maybe when her drivers license expired that would be a good time to just hang up her car keys. Well, it looked like the time had finally arrived. I began driving mom about and trying to see that she had the things she needed... and making routine trips to the grocery store and over to K-Mart... fun places like that. You know!

But Mom just didn't like the inconvenience. If she wanted to go to the store she had to wait for someone to take her. So she began thinking about buying another car. We began car shopping. Wheeeee! Now Mom put about 20 miles a week on her vehicle... so as you can see, she needed something that could handle all that drivin'. We asked around for cars but didn't want her to get stuck with a lemon.

My brother Royce told her she should just quit looking and get a new car. That way "you won't be paying for someone else's problems." So, Mom decided she'd take his advice and last week she bought herself a brand spankin' new 2005 Ford Focus. Uh-huh! That's right!



Is that not the coolest 90 year old lady you've ever seen sportin' a brand new car?

The first time Mom took the car out for a spin, She asked me to follow her... old habits die hard. She was a bit afraid that when she backed the new car out of her garage the automatic door was going to close right in the middle of it. I backed out in the street and watched to make sure she didn't get impaled in her new car under the garage door. After she got the car out into the street, after a bit of struggling here and there... I could see she was trying to find stuff, she finally got the car turned around and headed up the street... right up the wrong side of the street that is. But adjusted things and soon was driving as she always did, right down the middle of the street. She arrived at my house with no serious accidents happening to her. She climbed out of her car and looked at me and said "I have to adjust these mirrors. I can't see where I'm at when I'm driving!" Well, yeah... OK... I understand. I think. We got the mirrors adjusted and she was feeling pretty confident, so she drove back home without me following her.

Well come Friday, I took Mom to town, only this time we drove her car instead of mine. Yeah, I got a bit aggravated trying to get the mirrors and seat adjusted just right, but soon I got myself fit in behind the wheel... and off we went. Now, when Mom needs to go anyplace we driver her car! It puts a happy spin on chaufferin'. I'll have to find more places for her to go. Today, Mom realized she had put over 100 miles on the car. (Actually she notes the mileage every time we go about a block... I don't know how long that will last.) I told her we needed to celebrate. Looks like we're getting that new car broken in just fine.

wonderfully splendifferous

It was a tradition. Saturday mornings - pancakes for breakfast. And if I do say so myself, I make a mighty fine pancake. But life dealt me a joker in the genes department and as I matured I learned I had low blood sugar.

I could still have pancakes for breakfast, and did. But never topped with scrumptiously delicious maple syrup dribbling down the sides. I had learned from my father to poke holes into the pancake so that as the syrup cascaded over and downwards it soaked into the soft texture making a buttery gooey delight that was beyond description. hmmmm.... pancakes soaking up all that maple syrup goodness.

Yeah, well! no more, baby. When I made pancakes I put cinnamon and artificial sweetner into the batter before cooking up the last couple then sandwiched an over easy egg in the middle (mmmm protein). Somehow it wasn't the same and pancakes lost their allure for me.

It is hard to define the flavor one gets when eating sugar free items. There's all kinds of goodies in the diabetic section of the grocery store. There's candy, ice cream, cookies... a whole half an isle... man that's a lot of crap. And the taste. Let me tell you what it tastes like... oh yeah, it tastes exactly like what it is a lot of crap. I did adjust to it... I now prefer diet coke to the original, i really like naturally sweet apple pie... with completely no sugar. But pouring that sugar free stuff into pancakes and telling yourself it tastes good... is feeding yourself a lie.

But then! whoooeeeeee!!! Splenda! Not to get all commercialized on you... but Splenda is actually sugar free sugar. Yeah, that makes no sense. But it's true. Isn't that just wonderfully splendafferous! Why YES it is!

Then I found the neatest thing. Sugar Free syrup made with Splenda! Wow! With a great deal of apprehension I bought that stuff then gave it a test run. The first time I used it very sparingly. I knew I was going to get sick. This was just too good to be true. But I did not get sick. I did not hate the taste. It was quite yummy in fact. So the next time, I poured on a little more. whoooppppeeee! I actually can drown my pancakes in syrup, punch holes in them and let all that syrupy goodness turn into a most delectable goo!

I shall forever love the creators of Splenda! Hmmmm Good.

Now, I wonder if they can make wine that doesn't make me high after two swallows...

Where's the love, man?

My mom had mild surgery last week and I had to do some serious mom sitting... no big deal... just really glad she got a good report and every thing was ok. But she had scheduled a garage sale for this week, I mean, the ad had already been published in the paper and she could not get every thing ready nor could she run the sale by herself. So my sister and I took turns Mom-sitting, getting ready for the sale, and helping out at the sale this week.

With all this fantastic fun on my horizon, I was really looking forward to this week. Well, actually I was looking forward to the end of this week. Because, obviously the week needed something to spice it up a bit, make things a little more up-beat. Me... I came up with the perfect solution. I got sick. Not just any sick, mind you, but "I think I'm dying because of my allergies... no maybe it's a cold, ... wait, it's settled in my chest it must be bronchitis... No, No, it's progressed to pneumonia" kind of sick. Thank goodness my sister was able to help finish up the garage sale preparations while I coughed and moaned.

Well the fun picked up on Wednesday when I had to begin my work week. I actually was feeling better but the kid decided she'd like a bit of what I was having and by now she was starting to look a little beyond help, although she did manage to drag herself off to work too. We have both been wishing we had at least been in a train wreck to justify our constant groaning due to the impending arrival at our door of the death angel.

I have managed to do my tour of duty on the job, help some with the sale preparations and I even got to sit in my mom's garage, sweat, and watch time crawl bye very slowly. But today is the last day of the work week, the last day of the sale... and it will soon all be history. Now that it is finally winding down, I am pleased to see that I have survived it quite successfully. I'm just looking forward to the weekend so I can sweep the floors and do some laundry. wheeee!

But despite all this up-beat chatter, actually, I'm a bit stuck in miry pit of gloom and despair. You see, today is my birthday! And, honestly, the way this week has gone, even I had forgotten it. I was reminded when the kid rasped out a phlegmy "happy birthday" this morning as we were trying to get ourselves motivated and out the door to work. So now, here I sit, all wrapped up in wondering why my birthday has to be so crappy. Yep, that's me, sitting here in the middle of this fantastic party, fantastic pity party, that is. Absolutely, all by myself. Completely ignored by the entire world at large. Do you feel my pain? Do you? Do You? Maybe just a tiny bit?

It's almost noon and I haven't received one silly ecard wishing me a happy birthday today. That's right, not one. What's wrong, people? Can you explain this! I have not received one single phone call to say "happy birthday, Anne". That’s right, not one. I mean really, not one.

And here at work... since i sort of retired last year... and only work a bit, they must have removed me from the employee roster... because I have not gotten a single crappy "howdy, happy birthday" from even one of my co-workers. In the past, someone would bring cookies or a cake to share during break time... but not today! No, not today. What is going on here, folks? Have I passed into the twilight zone? Can anyone see me? Do you even know I'm here?

Now all this bitching seems just a tad bit out-of-place coming from me... I really don't like people making a fuss over me... but today I have come to realize that I do like to get the token attention everyone gets... I really do! I do... I really do!

So I ask you...

Where's the love, man, where's the love? It's my birthday for cripes sakes. Bring on the birthday cheer! I need a Happy Birthday up in here! at least one. don't make me beg!

please

Thank You????

Just because I hate them so much… And needed a good place to vent.

These “thank you” commercials make me crazy.

Just tell me, girls, if you were grocery shopping and another shopper came up, placed her hand on your tummy and said “oh, you’re having a boy!” and you in astonishment reply “I’m not pregnant”... she has the audacity to respond “Thank you.” Not "excuse me," or "i'm sorry," but "Thank you!"... WHAT?

Now tell the truth - Would you have waited for that particular “thank you” or would you have (before she had a chance to reply) decked the ho, upended her into her shopping cart then pushed her - cart and all into the meat locker and slammed the door on the bizzatch!

Or how about the gal out to dinner with her guy and asks “are we ever getting married?” and he hems and haws around a bit then answers “Thank you”. She gets all swooshey and says “you’ve never said that to me before.” WHAT?

How long has she been dating this go nowhere scumbag… and he has never on any occasion said “thank you”… and she’s all happy about it. I mean… what she should have done is toss her liquid beverage in his face and stomped out of the restaurant. I don’t know who’s the least likable character in that commercial; the sidestepping guy or the dumb girl.

Furthermore, you could ask me a hundred times what they were advertising in these ads… and I couldn’t tell you. I get too upset by the idiotic idea that you can get out of a bad situation by smiling and saying “thank you”… now I believe “thank yous” are important… but really, now!

and since i'm lamblasting commercials... do you pity the poor woman who opens an envelope from the bank and a desert island starts pouring in, completely destroying her home and leaves her kerplunk in the middle of nowhere... where her lawn is supposed to be ... a little grass, skads of strangers and my guess: no plumbling, not even the outdoor type. yeah, that's worth getting excited about! the lesson i get from this commercial... any envelope i get from that bank: DON'T OPEN! Ever!

For my Litkicks Pals and Other Friends

The Bulletin Board

I have always loved post cards. Glossy photos can be picked up anywhere for a pittance and so whenever I go anywhere I always bring back a couple postcards of my trip.

My love for them increased when my daughter spent one semester in Venice and as she traveled around Europe she sent me a card from the beautiful places she visited. I proudly displayed them on my bulletin board at work.

As I began exploring the world wide web and making a few friends when the first asked what I would like from them I replied “send me a post card.” My first one arrived from Van Couver in Canada. I thought that was so cool that I shamelessly posted a request on one of the bulletin boards at LitKicks ( http://Litkicks.com a most awesome place to connect with friends from around the globe) and emailed my address to those who wanted to send me a postcard.

They soon began arriving. I had cards from Australia, New Mexico, Texas, New York, New Jersey, Michigan, Indiana, Michigan, Florida, New Orleans, Germany, Wales, England, Yemen and Virginia. I added these to my bulletin board and it quickly began filling up. I soon had too many and at one time one wall of my office was covered with the beautiful postcards I had received in the mail.

This wall made a tremendous impression on those who came to my office and a great way to share a little bit about myself, although I had to explain that these were not places I had traveled but represented the homes and travels of my friends from around the globe.

My work buddies soon wanted to get in on the fun and soon were also sending cards to me from their vacation spots. At one time I had centered a sign in midst of the postcards which read Litkicks Pals but because so many others began contributing I had to take it down. One gentleman whose business brings him into my office even sent me a card when he and his wife visited Denmark this last spring.

When I retired, I continued working a few hours a week, which meant I had to give up my office with the post card covered wall. The first thing I did to make my new work space really mine was to find a way to display my postcards. Unfortunately, they didn’t all fit but I found a way to expand my space and soon had them out for everyone to enjoy again.

Now I worry that continued exposure to light is causing the cards to lose their brightness and because they are so special to me I am going to take them down and put them in an album. But before I do, I just wanted to share them with you.

My Messy Work Area is made tolerable by the view.


Closer Views




So if you are ever out wandering about, feel free to drop me a postcard. I'd love to add it to my collection.

It was just a "so long"

Wheh!

My mom celebrated her 90th birthday on Saturday. We kids had been looking forward to some family time while doing something special to let mom know how great we think she is.

Company began arriving last week. My niece Amy and her daughter Julie were going to be our guests for the weekend. I had been busy getting a place ready for them and was excited when they arrived. Julie is 2. She is a wonderful, terrible two. How were we to know that spending a weekend watching Winnie the Pooh, Blues Clues and singing with Barney could be so much fun? It was awesome.

In fact, the entire weekend was awesome. At one point we kids had to get a group picture taken. So there we were. Mom with my brother Royce, me, brother Jim and sister Phyllis… and even at our ages we couldn’t behave long enough to get a serious picture taken.


Worthy of note is that Mom always looks dignified and serene. I guess her ability to maintain her cool around such shenanigans explains how she managed to raise 5 kids and not lose her mind.

It did get a bit “touch and go” when my nephew Greg’s kids brought their dog, Gizmo, to the party. She was a hit right away, of course, she’s adorable. The touch part came when my daughter while holding the dog, turned her puppy dog eyes on me and said, “See how cute. I want a dog, Mom”. But I was tough and we haven’t made any arrangements to go out and get one of our own and the crisis soon passed.

We hung out a lot, ate way too much food. Told stories on each other, remembered the ‘good times’ hugged a lot of necks, but finally family slowly said their goodbyes and we watched them get into their cars and leave. Amy and Julie left on Sunday night. I walked back into my house with not even an echo of Barney reverberating through the rooms. The house was too quiet, too empty.

My brother James (Amy’s father) hung around a bit longer. It was great having extra time with him and I took full advantage ignoring things I probably should have been doing and enjoyed having him around. He came over with mom this morning for breakfast and we sat around the table talking about things, looking at pictures, but too soon he said “I’ve got to go”, reaching out for a goodbye hug.

I stood in the drive watching him walk away. He turned and said “I’ll be back before too long with Jimmie (his son). We want to get some things done for Mom.”

“When do you think you’ll be here?” I asked.

“Before the weather gets bad. Jimmie and I want to get some golf in while we’re here.”

This was one of those times I was glad some of my family members are golf nuts. It made saying this goodbye easier. After all, it won’t be long before I get to say another one.

Spiteful Discount

Once I hit the age of 55 my sister and my mom began quizzing me every time we sat down after going through the service line at any fast food establishment whether or not I had gotten my "senior's discount". Yeah, like I was going to admit I was old enough for that. Anyway at age 55 I didn't look old enough to qualify and to me that was worth paying the regular price for my soft drink. Mom would then inform me how much cheeper her meal was than mine. Fine with me. This woman is, after all, 28 years older than I am.

Without fail, I had this conversation every time we ate some place. I figured that once the employee at the service counter could figure out I was old enough to qualify... then by cracky, I'd start fessin' up that I deserved the cheeper rate. So for years I paid full price and grinned while paying it. I had gotten bye them again. I was still fooling them about my age.

Then last Sunday my mom and I stopped after church for lunch. I thought my meal was a little less than I had calculated in my head it should be. When I got to my seat I pulled out my receipt. Oh, Crikey! They've found me out. That young whippersnapper had given me a senior's discount without my asking him. I sat stewing at the receipt as my mom pulled out her chair and sat down. "Did you get your discount?" she ceremoniously asked. "As a matter of fact, I did" I snarled back ungraciously.

When I got home I made a trip to the bathroom mirror to examine my features more closely. Who exactly had I thought I'd been fooling, anyway. I stared at my gray hair and the skin now a little looser under my chin. It's caught up with me and that's all there is to that. I sat down at my desk, wrote out a check and mailed in my membership to AARP. Let's face it, I have arrived. Whether I act like it or not, I am now officially a senior citizen.

Chauffeuring the Girls

Who are the girls? That would be my 89 year old mother, Mary, and her best friend Lola. Mom and Lola have been friends for almost 70 years and they are two of the most awesome women I know. To have a friendship that has lasted that long in this day and age is, in itself, baffling and awe inspiring at the same time.

The girls talk on the phone (for hours) almost daily. They go to yard sales whenever they can. Usually Lola is the designated driver. Mom’s remarks about her driving makes me know she is the senior on the back roads driving 35 and getting cussed out by everyone piling up behind her. That’s OK… they eventually get to their destination.

However, Lola has been ill this summer. Driving has been a bit of a problem and they haven't been able to get around and enjoy all the things they usually do. So when they were both invited to the 50th wedding anniversary celebration of a couple, Ray and Elaine, who had “grown up” in the church they were eager to go. But how would they get to the anniversary; it was out of town? So I volunteered to go along and drive the girls to the party.

Mom was so excited about going she spent 2 weeks before the event making sure that everything was in place. That meant, she kept me on a tight leash with daily reminders to do the proper thing… like “get a really nice card since they had requested ‘no gifts’ and they were giving us a free dinner”… and keeping me aware that I had an appointment and I had better be “on time” because they did not want to be late. “They’re serving dinner right at 5 o’clock, you know.”

So the day arrived. I dressed up a little bit, got in my car for the 20 minute drive 45 minutes early (we were on time) and went to pick up Mom and then on down the road to pick up Lola. I plugged in a favorite cd, turned the music down so the girls could chatter away… and boy did they!

I have always been amazed that my mom remembers where everybody lived over her almost 90 years on this earth… but driving down the country roads to the next town was like having 2 tour guides along for the ride. The comments were nothing if not stimulating and varied not a bit in nature. They followed something like this…

“You know Clarence lived there until he moved to…”

“...and Charles lived right next door… there in that house”

“You remember Bert & Ethel, now this house coming up on the right… wait not that one… there it is… now... that one, that’s where they lived” as an aside… “You know it’s been so many years it’s hard to remember these houses; they’ve changed so much.” Well for my money they were remembering pretty dog-gone good.

We arrived at the party and were ushered in with hugs, kisses, and a lot of “I haven’t seen you in ages”, “how are you doing”, “how are the kids”, “where is ____ now” I stared around at a sea of faces that were familiarly strange and I tried to put names to them and finally gave up until they gave themselves away by some remark they would make. I stared at a lot of beautiful women who wore their years well but seemed a little oblivious since the frequent hair color seemed to be some strange tint of orange (you know that color one gets when trying to touch up the gray yourself instead of having it done professionally). I tripped into the bathroom for a quick check in the mirror to make sure I hadn’t caught the bug. Good! My hair was still gray and there was no hint of orange anywhere around my face.

It turned into one of the most fun nights I have had in years. I loved the girls, I loved watching them visit with old friends and get caught up in family stories, remembrances and just getting embraced by all those who really loved them. When the evening wound down and I was able to usher two tired ladies to the car we began our journey home. They chatted about their friends and the good old days.

I smiled when the evening was over and I pulled the car into the driveway at home. I thought to myself that the most beautiful women there had been my silver haired mom and her silver haired friend Lola… and of course the beautiful bride, Elaine, silver hair shining as much as her smile. But aside from the fun time of seeing old friends, the thing I was really, really glad about was that I don’t have orange hair.

launch day!

well... i'm going to launch this thing. watch out world! here i come.

it still isn't perfect, but is anything?

there are still a couple things i want to add. check back with me and see how i'm doing.

for some reason there is a knot in my stomach, the kind you get just as you step in front an audience to do your public speaking thing. i hope this goes well, if not, please be patient with me. i'm still a novice.

anyway, thanks for stopping in.

taking a deep breath. ok... here goes!

anne

just to get things going

so finally, i decided i was ready to get with the times and create a web site. well, hasn't this been fun? That is not a redundant question...and the answer is "NO!"

rather frustrating actually, but I figure i'll get the hang of it with a little practice. so i'm here typing this, and actually, i'm not sure if it will even show up on my site. experimentation... ah, yes! the things from which dreams are realized. or whatever!

well, if it works... i'll soon be adding to this. if it works, i'll soon get this dang thang launched. if it works!

it better work