I lived in Japan when I was a 10-year-old (1957 into '58) due to my father's status as a Navy officer. It was a great experience, and I came home with some treasures that I still have. I got the treasures out, just before Halloween, so Robin could wear my kimono for trick-or-treating. They were still out this weekend when the family was here.
One of the treasures is a 45 rpm record of a Japanese children's song called Sho-Jo-Ji. (Anyone have a record player?? I have the record but no way to play it!) No matter. I know Sho-Jo-Ji by heart! Another of my treasures is a small carved wooden figurine of Sho-Jo-Ji--obviously a bear with a big tummy. The song indicated that the bear beat on his belly to make the noise "pon poko pon no pon". Megan was admiring the figurine on Sunday. She said it was "cute"...so I gave it to her. I thought I remembered that there used to be another part to the figurine, but whatever it was had been lost decades ago. As she was looking at it, she noticed a unique anatomical feature...and wondered what it was. We got to looking and laughing. There was no mistaking it--and no way to put it politely: Sho-Jo-Ji had huge testicles! And the weird part is that I had never noticed them before! (Leave it to my daughter to see that...)
After the family left for their trip north--with Sho-Jo-Ji now in their possession--I got to looking on the Internet to see if I could find a translation of the song. I was in shock! Sho-Jo-Ji is not a bear at all, but a Japanese raccoon dog! (I guess that's why there are raccoons on the jacket of the record, huh??) I immediately texted Meg to tell her that after almost 55 years of assuming one thing, I was now met with the fact that the bear figurine was supposed to be a raccoon, so who the figurine represented was a mystery to me. I felt so betrayed! Within two minutes, she texted me back that the figurine is "Tanuki". Sitting at a rest stop somewhere between Indy and Chicago, she looked up "bear with big balls" on her iPhone and solved the mystery in seconds. Tanuki is a puckish Japanese raccoon dog--mischievous--and represented in Japanese folklore as a creature with exaggeratedly large testicles. Bingo! She said, "We'll have to find a hat for him." That jogged my memory. He used to have a hat! That is what was lost so many years ago!
Tanuki-san has a new home now, with a new understanding of who he is. The Sho-Jo-Ji song helped to make the connection. Who'd a-thunk it? The Internet is a marvelous thing! There have been several other instances in the past 5-10 years where the Internet has solved some mysteries of a more personal nature. Ain't it grand?
Monday, November 7, 2011
Sunday, November 6, 2011
Weekend
My daughter, son-in-law, and grandchildren arrived at my house close to midnight on Friday. It sure was nice to have them on my turf for awhile! It was easily 2:00 AM before we all hit the sack.
On Saturday morning, I was awakened by little fingers tickling my back. Robin came in to get me up. Ryan was already up, too. Mommy and Denis were a little slower to rise, but that's okay. At 10:00 AM, Ryan went into their room to get permission to go to play with the neighbor boy. (At least he waited that long!) And that's how the kids spent their day--playing with the neighbor children, which is what we expected to happen. Before that, however, they manned the rakes and spent some time raking leaves and playing in the yard. They love rolling in the leaves!
Denis got busy with the leaf blower and got the yard mostly cleaned up by blowing the leaves to the curb where the Town of Plainfield will suck them up. There are still a lot of leaves yet to come down, so it wasn't a complete job, but it was an enormous help. Eventually, the young adults went for a nap while the old lady finished up plans for supper. (Hey...they have jobs and I don't. I figure I can catch up on my sleep later. They can't!) Sometime on Saturday, Denis changed out computer monitors from the defunct living room computer to the one I'm typing on (bigger monitor), and he worked on my laptop to "fix" the mouse. (It needed new batteries. I could swear we had already done that!)
Judy and Phil Heffelman, the children's other Plainfield grandparents, joined us for supper, along with their son, the kids' Uncle Dan. Denis cooked steaks on the grill. With that, we had salad, sauteed mushrooms, and oven-baked potatoes, plus a yummy pumpkin bundt cake that the Heffelmans brought. We didn't have to send out for pizza! They stayed to play three rounds of Russian Bingo--a game that Denis's parents had brought from Russia when they were here in August. It was a nice visit.
After J and P left, Megan and Denis took a run to Walmart. I had put "chocolate" on the shopping list, and they came back with a discounted HUGE bag of mini-Snickers/Milky Way/Twix/3 Musketeers--230 pieces worth! I should probably mention that I was concerned after Halloween what would happen to all of the leftover candy. What was I thinking? Before Megan and Denis went shopping, virtually every shred of candy was gone, with a leaf trail that led to the candy dish! When we finally all went to bed, it was midnight. Ugh!
Sunday, I had no takers for church. We were all pretty tired. When everyone finally got up--with an extra hour, due to time change--we had a big breakfast. Thereafter, I fear we abused Denis. Well...heh heh...I KNOW Megan did. At the breakfast table, he put a piece of candy in his teeth and asked Megan to kiss him...to get a bite of the candy. She obliged, but warned him that the candy was so small, she would probably end up biting his lip. Well...it actually happened! She made a last minute lunge, and he ended up with a bloody upper lip. I don't think she actually bit him--more like she pushed his lip into his teeth. At the time, it wasn't funny, but a few hours later, he acknowledged that it was HIS fault. "Never feed wild animals!" I threatened to put it on Facebook, but then she threatened to post some of her unflattering pictures of me from our summer trip on there. Stalemate!
When I say we abused Denis, I mean that we put him on tasks that we largely didn't help him with. Today, Sunday, he did things like replace the flapper in the toilet tank of my half-bath. The toilet has been running for months and months--not much, but enough that it ran for five seconds every five minutes. One of my friends looked at it months ago and adjusted things, but it didn't last. Okay...replacing a toilet flapper isn't a huge job, but the fact that there is a storage cabinet over the toilet tank makes it bigger. I had to empty the cabinet, then Denis had to lift the cabinet way over the tank before he could even get to the tank. He put in the new flapper. The toilet hasn't run since. Life is good!
There was also a last-minute project that became monumental. A few years ago, when Megan and the children moved in with me, we bought Ryan a Spiderman loft bed. It came with shelves that go underneath, but Ry was so small that we didn't need them. We stashed one of the shelves in the minibarn and the other along a wall in his room. This trip, with Ryan's permission, "we" installed the shelves. (Denis did!) Denis also changed some lightbulbs that would have been an issue for me. The dear man said, as they were leaving, that I should prepare a new "honey-do" list for the next time they are here. What a blessing!
My family isn't even home yet, and the house is trashed from having four extra people in it, but I loved having them here...and I am especially grateful for all of the help.
Tempus fugit. I am happy for every moment!
On Saturday morning, I was awakened by little fingers tickling my back. Robin came in to get me up. Ryan was already up, too. Mommy and Denis were a little slower to rise, but that's okay. At 10:00 AM, Ryan went into their room to get permission to go to play with the neighbor boy. (At least he waited that long!) And that's how the kids spent their day--playing with the neighbor children, which is what we expected to happen. Before that, however, they manned the rakes and spent some time raking leaves and playing in the yard. They love rolling in the leaves!
Denis got busy with the leaf blower and got the yard mostly cleaned up by blowing the leaves to the curb where the Town of Plainfield will suck them up. There are still a lot of leaves yet to come down, so it wasn't a complete job, but it was an enormous help. Eventually, the young adults went for a nap while the old lady finished up plans for supper. (Hey...they have jobs and I don't. I figure I can catch up on my sleep later. They can't!) Sometime on Saturday, Denis changed out computer monitors from the defunct living room computer to the one I'm typing on (bigger monitor), and he worked on my laptop to "fix" the mouse. (It needed new batteries. I could swear we had already done that!)
Judy and Phil Heffelman, the children's other Plainfield grandparents, joined us for supper, along with their son, the kids' Uncle Dan. Denis cooked steaks on the grill. With that, we had salad, sauteed mushrooms, and oven-baked potatoes, plus a yummy pumpkin bundt cake that the Heffelmans brought. We didn't have to send out for pizza! They stayed to play three rounds of Russian Bingo--a game that Denis's parents had brought from Russia when they were here in August. It was a nice visit.
After J and P left, Megan and Denis took a run to Walmart. I had put "chocolate" on the shopping list, and they came back with a discounted HUGE bag of mini-Snickers/Milky Way/Twix/3 Musketeers--230 pieces worth! I should probably mention that I was concerned after Halloween what would happen to all of the leftover candy. What was I thinking? Before Megan and Denis went shopping, virtually every shred of candy was gone, with a leaf trail that led to the candy dish! When we finally all went to bed, it was midnight. Ugh!
Sunday, I had no takers for church. We were all pretty tired. When everyone finally got up--with an extra hour, due to time change--we had a big breakfast. Thereafter, I fear we abused Denis. Well...heh heh...I KNOW Megan did. At the breakfast table, he put a piece of candy in his teeth and asked Megan to kiss him...to get a bite of the candy. She obliged, but warned him that the candy was so small, she would probably end up biting his lip. Well...it actually happened! She made a last minute lunge, and he ended up with a bloody upper lip. I don't think she actually bit him--more like she pushed his lip into his teeth. At the time, it wasn't funny, but a few hours later, he acknowledged that it was HIS fault. "Never feed wild animals!" I threatened to put it on Facebook, but then she threatened to post some of her unflattering pictures of me from our summer trip on there. Stalemate!
When I say we abused Denis, I mean that we put him on tasks that we largely didn't help him with. Today, Sunday, he did things like replace the flapper in the toilet tank of my half-bath. The toilet has been running for months and months--not much, but enough that it ran for five seconds every five minutes. One of my friends looked at it months ago and adjusted things, but it didn't last. Okay...replacing a toilet flapper isn't a huge job, but the fact that there is a storage cabinet over the toilet tank makes it bigger. I had to empty the cabinet, then Denis had to lift the cabinet way over the tank before he could even get to the tank. He put in the new flapper. The toilet hasn't run since. Life is good!
There was also a last-minute project that became monumental. A few years ago, when Megan and the children moved in with me, we bought Ryan a Spiderman loft bed. It came with shelves that go underneath, but Ry was so small that we didn't need them. We stashed one of the shelves in the minibarn and the other along a wall in his room. This trip, with Ryan's permission, "we" installed the shelves. (Denis did!) Denis also changed some lightbulbs that would have been an issue for me. The dear man said, as they were leaving, that I should prepare a new "honey-do" list for the next time they are here. What a blessing!
My family isn't even home yet, and the house is trashed from having four extra people in it, but I loved having them here...and I am especially grateful for all of the help.
Tempus fugit. I am happy for every moment!
Wednesday, November 2, 2011
Taming the Senior Beast
My mother was not a whiner or complainer, but she often said, "It's hell to get old." At the time, I just chuckled...but it's not so funny now. I get it, now! My mother passed away suddenly at age 67--far too young for those of us who relied on her for emotional support. What bothers me is that I am now 64, and I have my doubts that I will make it as long as she did!
No one warned me--nor would I have believed them if they did--that old age brings anger. No one wants to get older, but it is inevitable...and those of us who aren't rich don't have the luxury of plastic surgery. I mean, Cher is my age...but she doesn't look it. We all know why. It's just not fair.
When my daughter was a teenager, we would run errands. She would refuse to go into a store because she wasn't fixed up. I wasn't either. Her comment, in so many words, was "It's okay for you to go in. No one will notice." Then there was the time that I jokingly asked my grandson if I was beautiful, and he responded, innocently, "I think you used to be." And the fellow at the Indy 500 who said, "You were probably a 'looker' in your day." I'm sorry. The message is unmistakable: old people are invisible and don't count.
Baby Boomers like me make up a huge percentage of America's population today, but television is all about people under age 35. What is aimed at us? "I've fallen, and I can't get up!" Reverse mortgage ads...insurance ads about Medicare supplements, Internet jokes about sagging breasts and the inability to hear or see or walk or contain our bladders and bowels. This is funny? Every single person on the planet will endure these problems. Why aren't we providing services to help seniors get through the anger and depression that come with losing the ability to be in touch with body parts that we can no longer see or reach?? I can't really cut my own toenails any more, but I can't afford monthly pedicures. What am I to do??
When I retired, I did so with the happy knowledge that I could better help out with the grandchildren who lived with me. And then, suddenly and without my prior knowledge, they were gone. Poof! Oh yes....just before that, there was the heart attack. I remember going down the aisles of the grocery store saying, "I can't have this; I can't have that." Anger at situations I could no longer control. It is what it is, but no one prepared me. No one explained that I was going to be frustrated without any ability to fix it.
The last time I got my hair cut with the fellow who has been doing it for 20 years, he butchered it. I mean, hair grows, so it should not have been that big a deal, but my hair is problematic. I don't have much of it, and just looking "normal" is always a challenge. I'll be talking to him about this before he cuts it again. It's only just now beginning to look right after almost two months.
Do you know what hurts most? Everything that I used to be able to do for myself I must now pay for. My friends--God bless them all--that I used to rely on for assistance with things are now suffering from old age, as well. Bad backs, bad knees, loss of strength, weight problems. It doesn't end. You work your fanny off all your life to eke out a living and provide for your family, and your reward is to get old and not know which ache or pain could spell your last. It just isn't fair!
I can hear the voices saying, "Life isn't fair". No, it isn't, and I am so very grateful for what I have. I'd just like to see society have a little bit of understanding that there is anger that comes with growing older. It's depressing. Two years ago when I experienced the worst wrench of my life, I reached out everywhere looking for a group or a service that could help. Guess what? Nothing in all of Hendricks County! Nothing to help with the grief and depression. I did the best I could.
My sister is now enduring the beginning throes of a spouse with dementia. She is largely unsupported, and sometimes under attack. She vents to me, but I don't think even her children get it...and I can't be there for her every day. For what it's worth, sister-dear, we are Covill/Armstrong women, and we will survive as God permits! Damn the torpedoes. Full speed ahead!
No one warned me--nor would I have believed them if they did--that old age brings anger. No one wants to get older, but it is inevitable...and those of us who aren't rich don't have the luxury of plastic surgery. I mean, Cher is my age...but she doesn't look it. We all know why. It's just not fair.
When my daughter was a teenager, we would run errands. She would refuse to go into a store because she wasn't fixed up. I wasn't either. Her comment, in so many words, was "It's okay for you to go in. No one will notice." Then there was the time that I jokingly asked my grandson if I was beautiful, and he responded, innocently, "I think you used to be." And the fellow at the Indy 500 who said, "You were probably a 'looker' in your day." I'm sorry. The message is unmistakable: old people are invisible and don't count.
Baby Boomers like me make up a huge percentage of America's population today, but television is all about people under age 35. What is aimed at us? "I've fallen, and I can't get up!" Reverse mortgage ads...insurance ads about Medicare supplements, Internet jokes about sagging breasts and the inability to hear or see or walk or contain our bladders and bowels. This is funny? Every single person on the planet will endure these problems. Why aren't we providing services to help seniors get through the anger and depression that come with losing the ability to be in touch with body parts that we can no longer see or reach?? I can't really cut my own toenails any more, but I can't afford monthly pedicures. What am I to do??
When I retired, I did so with the happy knowledge that I could better help out with the grandchildren who lived with me. And then, suddenly and without my prior knowledge, they were gone. Poof! Oh yes....just before that, there was the heart attack. I remember going down the aisles of the grocery store saying, "I can't have this; I can't have that." Anger at situations I could no longer control. It is what it is, but no one prepared me. No one explained that I was going to be frustrated without any ability to fix it.
The last time I got my hair cut with the fellow who has been doing it for 20 years, he butchered it. I mean, hair grows, so it should not have been that big a deal, but my hair is problematic. I don't have much of it, and just looking "normal" is always a challenge. I'll be talking to him about this before he cuts it again. It's only just now beginning to look right after almost two months.
Do you know what hurts most? Everything that I used to be able to do for myself I must now pay for. My friends--God bless them all--that I used to rely on for assistance with things are now suffering from old age, as well. Bad backs, bad knees, loss of strength, weight problems. It doesn't end. You work your fanny off all your life to eke out a living and provide for your family, and your reward is to get old and not know which ache or pain could spell your last. It just isn't fair!
I can hear the voices saying, "Life isn't fair". No, it isn't, and I am so very grateful for what I have. I'd just like to see society have a little bit of understanding that there is anger that comes with growing older. It's depressing. Two years ago when I experienced the worst wrench of my life, I reached out everywhere looking for a group or a service that could help. Guess what? Nothing in all of Hendricks County! Nothing to help with the grief and depression. I did the best I could.
My sister is now enduring the beginning throes of a spouse with dementia. She is largely unsupported, and sometimes under attack. She vents to me, but I don't think even her children get it...and I can't be there for her every day. For what it's worth, sister-dear, we are Covill/Armstrong women, and we will survive as God permits! Damn the torpedoes. Full speed ahead!
Tuesday, November 1, 2011
Naming Things
This is going to seem like a stupid post, but it amuses me.
My sister and bro-in-law have always named their cars. I never did, but the practice does put a personality on inanimate objects, and I like the idea.
My daughter and grandchildren seem to have picked up on that. A few years ago, Megan bought a Pontiac Montana minivan, complete with DVD player for the children. The minivan became "Hannah". (Hannah Montana--get it?) Poor Hannah served well through the years, mountains, and even unbelievable heat in Death Valley, but died an ugly death right after our return to the Midwest this summer, forcing Megan and Denis to buy another minivan--a Honda Odyssey. Naming this one was a no-brainer. The new blue minivan became "Homer". Homer Honda. (The first male in the dynasty.) Homer Simpson (cartoon character) is one of Megan 's favorite "people"...and the author of the epic poem The Odyssey, was a Greek poet named Homer. All hail Homer Honda, and may you serve longer than Hannah did!
Just a couple of weeks before Megan and Denis left on their trek to California a couple of years ago, I gave them a GPS for Christmas. The voice was female. She often sounded annoyed as she said "recalculating!" when they didn't do what she had told them to do, so they named her "Linda". I'm not sure why, but I do know that there was an annoying person at Megan's previous workplace who was named Linda. Coincidence??
My grandchildren, Robin and Ryan, have their own naming standards. Robin is always creative about naming her toys and dolls. Her big stuffed horse is named Piccadilly. Piccadilly?? Where did that come from? When they were in the Webkinz phase of childhood, Ryan named his critters more simply. The stuffed wolf became "Wolfie"...the bear became "Beary"...the platypus became "Platty". Do we see a pattern here??
My daughter has to have a loud fan blowing at bedtime, just to drown out noises. (Me, too!) The fan goes everywhere she goes for an overnight stay. Her fan came with us on our trip back to the Midwest from California this summer, to be plugged in at each motel room and cabin along the way. Following Ryan's pattern of naming, the fan was called "Fanny". Poor Fanny got dropped at one location and her base broke off. We had to take a side trip to a Walmart to find a replacement--Arizona? Don't remember where we were... We didn't have a proper funeral for Fanny. She got dumped in a trash can in the Walmart parking lot, but we had a replacement. It was a kind of "The fan is dead; long live the (new) fan" situation.
I think I need to find names for things that are close to me and have been with me a long time. My one and only house plant is one. My beloved house robes are another. Another friend is my patio, which is often my only link to the outside world. Patty????
My sister and bro-in-law have always named their cars. I never did, but the practice does put a personality on inanimate objects, and I like the idea.
My daughter and grandchildren seem to have picked up on that. A few years ago, Megan bought a Pontiac Montana minivan, complete with DVD player for the children. The minivan became "Hannah". (Hannah Montana--get it?) Poor Hannah served well through the years, mountains, and even unbelievable heat in Death Valley, but died an ugly death right after our return to the Midwest this summer, forcing Megan and Denis to buy another minivan--a Honda Odyssey. Naming this one was a no-brainer. The new blue minivan became "Homer". Homer Honda. (The first male in the dynasty.) Homer Simpson (cartoon character) is one of Megan 's favorite "people"...and the author of the epic poem The Odyssey, was a Greek poet named Homer. All hail Homer Honda, and may you serve longer than Hannah did!
Just a couple of weeks before Megan and Denis left on their trek to California a couple of years ago, I gave them a GPS for Christmas. The voice was female. She often sounded annoyed as she said "recalculating!" when they didn't do what she had told them to do, so they named her "Linda". I'm not sure why, but I do know that there was an annoying person at Megan's previous workplace who was named Linda. Coincidence??
My grandchildren, Robin and Ryan, have their own naming standards. Robin is always creative about naming her toys and dolls. Her big stuffed horse is named Piccadilly. Piccadilly?? Where did that come from? When they were in the Webkinz phase of childhood, Ryan named his critters more simply. The stuffed wolf became "Wolfie"...the bear became "Beary"...the platypus became "Platty". Do we see a pattern here??
My daughter has to have a loud fan blowing at bedtime, just to drown out noises. (Me, too!) The fan goes everywhere she goes for an overnight stay. Her fan came with us on our trip back to the Midwest from California this summer, to be plugged in at each motel room and cabin along the way. Following Ryan's pattern of naming, the fan was called "Fanny". Poor Fanny got dropped at one location and her base broke off. We had to take a side trip to a Walmart to find a replacement--Arizona? Don't remember where we were... We didn't have a proper funeral for Fanny. She got dumped in a trash can in the Walmart parking lot, but we had a replacement. It was a kind of "The fan is dead; long live the (new) fan" situation.
I think I need to find names for things that are close to me and have been with me a long time. My one and only house plant is one. My beloved house robes are another. Another friend is my patio, which is often my only link to the outside world. Patty????
Monday, October 31, 2011
The Bat Wreath
Fifteen years ago (or more), Megan and I went to Mansfield, IN, for their huge craft fair as part of Central Indiana's covered bridge celebrations. That particular day, I bought a treasure--a home made Halloween bat wreath. It's one of a kind. (If you saw it, you'd understand why.) The center circle is in padded orange calico, and the outer edge is a large black calico ruffle. In the center of the circle is a black satin bat, with red eyes that flash while the whole thing laughs maniacally, due to a motion sensor. Every year, I have put that stupid wreath on the door, with the batteries installed. (In later years, I learned not to put the batteries in until the 31st because I got tired of hearing the laughter every time a car drove by outside.) It has never received more attention than it did this year!
One little girl saw it and heard it as I answered the door. Her eyes got really big and she took a step backward. (I was afraid she'd fall off the stoop!) Several others reacted similarly. At one knock, I opened the door while the wreath was flashing and laughing, and said "Yeesssss?" in a menacing tone. There were two teenagers on the other side of the door who were in the spirit of things and expressed fake fear. It was fun!
Do you know the song, Christmas Was Meant for Children? Well...I used to believe that Halloween was meant for children, but now I'm inclined to think that it's meant more for parents! I had many children at my door who were way too young to know what was going on, or even to eat the candy that was doled out. (I was guilty of that when my daughter was a baby, and I loved seeing my very young grandchildren in costume for the greedy holiday!) I get amused at Christian parents who think that the children will be taken away by the evil beginnings of the occasion. It's all about the fun! There is also a group out there complaining about children who dress up in stereotypical costumes depicting a culture. Are we taking ourselves a bit too seriously????
Halloween 2011 is now history. I still have a half-bowl of candy left. Since the family will be here this weekend, it won't go to waste.
On another note, today would have been my brother's 58th birthday, had he lived. He left this planet far too soon and without my permission!
Still another note, tonight was my son-in-law's first official Halloween in America where he actually met trick-or-treaters at the door. He said it was "charming". :)
One little girl saw it and heard it as I answered the door. Her eyes got really big and she took a step backward. (I was afraid she'd fall off the stoop!) Several others reacted similarly. At one knock, I opened the door while the wreath was flashing and laughing, and said "Yeesssss?" in a menacing tone. There were two teenagers on the other side of the door who were in the spirit of things and expressed fake fear. It was fun!
Do you know the song, Christmas Was Meant for Children? Well...I used to believe that Halloween was meant for children, but now I'm inclined to think that it's meant more for parents! I had many children at my door who were way too young to know what was going on, or even to eat the candy that was doled out. (I was guilty of that when my daughter was a baby, and I loved seeing my very young grandchildren in costume for the greedy holiday!) I get amused at Christian parents who think that the children will be taken away by the evil beginnings of the occasion. It's all about the fun! There is also a group out there complaining about children who dress up in stereotypical costumes depicting a culture. Are we taking ourselves a bit too seriously????
Halloween 2011 is now history. I still have a half-bowl of candy left. Since the family will be here this weekend, it won't go to waste.
On another note, today would have been my brother's 58th birthday, had he lived. He left this planet far too soon and without my permission!
Still another note, tonight was my son-in-law's first official Halloween in America where he actually met trick-or-treaters at the door. He said it was "charming". :)
Sunday, October 30, 2011
I Should Have Been Raking Leaves, But...
Shoulda, woulda, coulda... It was a fairly decent day and I SHOULD have been out raking leaves...but...but....it's Sunday...but...but...there are still a lot of leaves left on the trees. Oh, well!
I spent some time yesterday preparing the house for the trick-or-treaters, convinced that today was Halloween. When I sat down at the computer this morning before church, an email or two had come in with 10/30 as the date stamp. Huh? Surprise! Today isn't Halloween; tomorrow is!
What I DID do today was go to church, do some grocery shopping, and start my Christmas shopping. (I had a few ideas, so I just did it.) My family will be here next weekend, so I had to start thinking about what to feed them. Truth be known, by the time they get here on Friday night, it will be too late for supper, and they will leave early-to-mid-afternoon on Sunday, so we are really only looking at one day of food. There are some Grandma's House typical meals...like walking tacos (which my grandson loves) and corned beef and cabbage (which my granddaughter loves), but I'm keeping the options open. I have steak and pork and brats and chicken. We'll see what transpires. I eat it all!
I actually spent $17 on myself today! I have had three bathrobes around the house...all of which serve a useful purpose (hiding my body). One of my favorites--one that I sometimes sleep in--is faded and threadbare and developing holes. I bought a replacement today. Let's have a moment of silence for the old one. My daughter bought it for me back when she was still in high school. Time for the rag bag! RIP dear robe! You were my friend!
I need to step up my preparations for weekend company. I will be so happy to have all of my chicks in the coop again!
I spent some time yesterday preparing the house for the trick-or-treaters, convinced that today was Halloween. When I sat down at the computer this morning before church, an email or two had come in with 10/30 as the date stamp. Huh? Surprise! Today isn't Halloween; tomorrow is!
What I DID do today was go to church, do some grocery shopping, and start my Christmas shopping. (I had a few ideas, so I just did it.) My family will be here next weekend, so I had to start thinking about what to feed them. Truth be known, by the time they get here on Friday night, it will be too late for supper, and they will leave early-to-mid-afternoon on Sunday, so we are really only looking at one day of food. There are some Grandma's House typical meals...like walking tacos (which my grandson loves) and corned beef and cabbage (which my granddaughter loves), but I'm keeping the options open. I have steak and pork and brats and chicken. We'll see what transpires. I eat it all!
I actually spent $17 on myself today! I have had three bathrobes around the house...all of which serve a useful purpose (hiding my body). One of my favorites--one that I sometimes sleep in--is faded and threadbare and developing holes. I bought a replacement today. Let's have a moment of silence for the old one. My daughter bought it for me back when she was still in high school. Time for the rag bag! RIP dear robe! You were my friend!
I need to step up my preparations for weekend company. I will be so happy to have all of my chicks in the coop again!
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
Dr. Phil's Truisms
I've hit the jackpot! The Oprah Winfrey Network airs old Dr. Phil programs at certain times of the day, so if I'm lucky, I can watch more than one show a day! (Beats "Keeping Up with the Kardashians"!)
After so many years of watching the Dr. Phil show, I have come to know most of his truisms--things he repeats over and over again. I wish I could denounce them, but they are all so true! Here are a few of them:
1. You can't change what you don't acknowledge.
2. The most influential person in the life of a child is the same sex parent.
3. People who have nothing to hide, hide nothing.
4. Some relationships need a hero.
5. Children would rather be FROM a broken home than LIVE in one.
6. If you fight in front of your children, you change who they are.
7. We create what we fear in our lives.
8. Would you rather be right, or would you rather be happy?
9. Your job as a parent is to protect your children and prepare them for the next stage of life.
10. In order to have happy children, you have to take care of the parent.
Wish I could find fault with all of that, but I haven't been able to!
I am so proud that my family has seemed to get past division for the sake of the grandchildren. (Except where my ex is concerned. Apparently he doesn't like me very much, which is a hoot considering that HE is the one who strayed from our relationship.) In any case, we are also now dealing with a family member who has been diagnosed with dementia, and that changes everything rational. One can deal with things that happen for a reason, but dementia adds a new dimension that won't always make sense. I pray for my sister who is dealing with this in her life! (And she needs to pray for me for my own trials and tribulations!)
Another day, another dollar....sort of!
After so many years of watching the Dr. Phil show, I have come to know most of his truisms--things he repeats over and over again. I wish I could denounce them, but they are all so true! Here are a few of them:
1. You can't change what you don't acknowledge.
2. The most influential person in the life of a child is the same sex parent.
3. People who have nothing to hide, hide nothing.
4. Some relationships need a hero.
5. Children would rather be FROM a broken home than LIVE in one.
6. If you fight in front of your children, you change who they are.
7. We create what we fear in our lives.
8. Would you rather be right, or would you rather be happy?
9. Your job as a parent is to protect your children and prepare them for the next stage of life.
10. In order to have happy children, you have to take care of the parent.
Wish I could find fault with all of that, but I haven't been able to!
I am so proud that my family has seemed to get past division for the sake of the grandchildren. (Except where my ex is concerned. Apparently he doesn't like me very much, which is a hoot considering that HE is the one who strayed from our relationship.) In any case, we are also now dealing with a family member who has been diagnosed with dementia, and that changes everything rational. One can deal with things that happen for a reason, but dementia adds a new dimension that won't always make sense. I pray for my sister who is dealing with this in her life! (And she needs to pray for me for my own trials and tribulations!)
Another day, another dollar....sort of!
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