Monday, April 30, 2007
Spring Flowers
Okay, let's try this again. I'm having trouble adding a picture to my blog and this is the last attempt today!
Spring Garden
I went out to the front of the house at 6:30 this morning to get some pictures of my spring garden for this blog. Unfortunately I can't get the pictures to come up but I'll try again later.
It looked quite pretty out there even though the tulips haven't opened yet but there is lots of promise in my garden. I made an effort when planting the tulip bulbs to plant a variety of early, mid, and late tulips. Wonder why I chose early yellow tulips when the yellow daffodils bloom at the same time?
Some of the rocks in my gardens were here when we bought the house back in 1968 but many have been lugged here from far and wide. Some of my prettiest pink rocks came from up around Bancroft. I think I like rocks in the garden because the combination of soft flowers among hard rocks appeals to my sense of esthetic beauty.
My neighbor, new at the time, gave me a nice compliment a couple of years ago. He said that my spring garden looked as though it was newly planted and cultivated. I've since assured him that all of my plantings are done with an eye to ease of maintenance and assurety of permanence.
From my computer I can see through the patio doors to the deck. I found some of the neatest planters at Home Depot one year and they sit firmly astride the deck rail, drainage holes on either side so that they don't drain onto the rail and rot the wood. Right now they're empty but I can already envision the riot of color that will fill them in another month.
Spring, as youth, is a promise of wonderful things yet to come.
Sunday, April 29, 2007
A Sense of Relief
You know that feeling you get when you're worried about something and the problem suddenly goes away. It's literally as though a weight has been lifted and you're able to breathe deeper. Happiness engulfs you.
Such as:
The person you thought was angry with you still loves you.
You get your tax/repair bill and it's less than you'd dared hope.
Your child falls, is silent and not moving, and then cries in anger.
Your doctor walks in, looks down at his/her chart and says all is well.
You're in the unbearable heat and humidity of summer and walk into a cool room.
You're feet hurt something fierce and you remove your shoes.
Your renovator returns your call.
Enjoy these moments because they're part of the spice of life.
Such as:
The person you thought was angry with you still loves you.
You get your tax/repair bill and it's less than you'd dared hope.
Your child falls, is silent and not moving, and then cries in anger.
Your doctor walks in, looks down at his/her chart and says all is well.
You're in the unbearable heat and humidity of summer and walk into a cool room.
You're feet hurt something fierce and you remove your shoes.
Your renovator returns your call.
Enjoy these moments because they're part of the spice of life.
Saturday, April 28, 2007
Comedy
There's not a whole lot worth watching on T.V. but I do enjoy watching the comedy network. Stand up comedians are a special breed of people and I believe they are born, not made. Many times the comedians base their monologues on sex and nasty language but occasionally you see a true comedian who can make you laugh without swearing.
I watched such a comedian this morning and he had me laughing so hard at the visuals he drew with words that I almost...well, you know. He made fun of every race, religion, and age without being cruel. I think that's the secret of being a really good comedian...being funny without being cruel.
We need laughter in our lives. They say it produces beneficial effects to our bodies. The problem with so many comedy shows on T.V. is that they have laughter sound tracts which just don't jibe with the so-called comedy being presented. It puts one off.
Live comedy...or even taped live comedy...can raise our spirits and make us laugh at ourselves. Lord knows, there's no lack of material when you're describing the human condition.
Robin Williams is a comedic genius who was born with the talent to make people laugh. His intelligence and natural kindness make him the kind of comedian I love to watch. He can be pretty graphic at times but somehow it just comes out hilarious and not unbearably crude.
We all have natural comedians somewhere in our families or friends and they are the people you love to be around. We gravitate towards laughter because there's not always a lot to laugh about in our everyday lives.
In my senior park in Florida there are probably about 200-300 people in the busy season but if you asked most of them who the park clown is you'd probably get the same answer...Ron. I've never yet been in his company when he hasn't had me laughing myself silly.
People like Ron or Robin add so much to our lives. Wouldn't it be a sad, boring world without the people who can make us laugh?
I watched such a comedian this morning and he had me laughing so hard at the visuals he drew with words that I almost...well, you know. He made fun of every race, religion, and age without being cruel. I think that's the secret of being a really good comedian...being funny without being cruel.
We need laughter in our lives. They say it produces beneficial effects to our bodies. The problem with so many comedy shows on T.V. is that they have laughter sound tracts which just don't jibe with the so-called comedy being presented. It puts one off.
Live comedy...or even taped live comedy...can raise our spirits and make us laugh at ourselves. Lord knows, there's no lack of material when you're describing the human condition.
Robin Williams is a comedic genius who was born with the talent to make people laugh. His intelligence and natural kindness make him the kind of comedian I love to watch. He can be pretty graphic at times but somehow it just comes out hilarious and not unbearably crude.
We all have natural comedians somewhere in our families or friends and they are the people you love to be around. We gravitate towards laughter because there's not always a lot to laugh about in our everyday lives.
In my senior park in Florida there are probably about 200-300 people in the busy season but if you asked most of them who the park clown is you'd probably get the same answer...Ron. I've never yet been in his company when he hasn't had me laughing myself silly.
People like Ron or Robin add so much to our lives. Wouldn't it be a sad, boring world without the people who can make us laugh?
Friday, April 27, 2007
Ghosts and E.S.P.
I was talking to a man today who brought up the fact that one of the buildings in my city is known to be haunted. It's an old building now used by some government run organization (I think it's actually run by the gay pride people because all the staff I once saw there appeared to be gay). I was there for an open house and only saw a total waste of taxpayer dollars.
The man I spoke to is a retired police officer and he once went down into the basement of the building and felt something touch him. I believe in this stuff!!
All of my life I've experienced events that can't be explained by what we know. Up until I was 14 I regularly had out-of-body experiences and could do it at will. Somehow I lost the ability but it has still happened occasionally when I've been under severe stress. This is a known occurrence for many people who are in extreme stressful conditions.
Many times I've known what was going to happen before it did and, by respecting my intuitions, it saved my life. This is also a rather common occurrence with others but we don't always pay attention to it.
Once my husband and I were on vacation in Venezuela and we rented a car to do a bit of touring in the countryside. We were in the village of Manzanilla and pulled up behind a water truck that had stopped in front of us. My intuition (E.S.P.) screamed at me that the truck was going to back up and I yelled this to my husband. Normally he would have ignored me, but this time he did put the car in reverse but just not fast enough to get out of the way. The driver of the truck had no idea we were behind him (there was no other vehicle on the road besides the two of us) so he put it in reverse and gunned the motor. The truck roared up onto the hood of our car, wheels spinning, and the water pipes on the side tore out our driver's side window, narrowly missing my husband. If I hadn't had my premonition, our car would have sat in a different position and the pipes would have come straight through the windshield...and through my husband.
Another time my husband, grandson, and mother-in-law went for a walk in the woods. We'd barely begun our walk when something told me strongly that there was danger ahead. I simply couldn't take another step but my husband and mother-in-law chose to go on while I took my grandson back to the car. Moments later, my mother-in-law fell on a rock and broke her ribs. Coincidence? Of course, if my E.S.P. worked flawlessly I'd have dragged my mother-in-law back to the car, too.
I've learned to heed my internal warnings. Most often they don't make sense at the time but I usually discover that I was wise to trust them. We make judgements based on our five senses every day so what is odd about using that sixth sense to guide us? I think we might be better off if we did.
The man I spoke to is a retired police officer and he once went down into the basement of the building and felt something touch him. I believe in this stuff!!
All of my life I've experienced events that can't be explained by what we know. Up until I was 14 I regularly had out-of-body experiences and could do it at will. Somehow I lost the ability but it has still happened occasionally when I've been under severe stress. This is a known occurrence for many people who are in extreme stressful conditions.
Many times I've known what was going to happen before it did and, by respecting my intuitions, it saved my life. This is also a rather common occurrence with others but we don't always pay attention to it.
Once my husband and I were on vacation in Venezuela and we rented a car to do a bit of touring in the countryside. We were in the village of Manzanilla and pulled up behind a water truck that had stopped in front of us. My intuition (E.S.P.) screamed at me that the truck was going to back up and I yelled this to my husband. Normally he would have ignored me, but this time he did put the car in reverse but just not fast enough to get out of the way. The driver of the truck had no idea we were behind him (there was no other vehicle on the road besides the two of us) so he put it in reverse and gunned the motor. The truck roared up onto the hood of our car, wheels spinning, and the water pipes on the side tore out our driver's side window, narrowly missing my husband. If I hadn't had my premonition, our car would have sat in a different position and the pipes would have come straight through the windshield...and through my husband.
Another time my husband, grandson, and mother-in-law went for a walk in the woods. We'd barely begun our walk when something told me strongly that there was danger ahead. I simply couldn't take another step but my husband and mother-in-law chose to go on while I took my grandson back to the car. Moments later, my mother-in-law fell on a rock and broke her ribs. Coincidence? Of course, if my E.S.P. worked flawlessly I'd have dragged my mother-in-law back to the car, too.
I've learned to heed my internal warnings. Most often they don't make sense at the time but I usually discover that I was wise to trust them. We make judgements based on our five senses every day so what is odd about using that sixth sense to guide us? I think we might be better off if we did.
Thursday, April 26, 2007
I Hate April Showers
Remember the cute saying "April showers bring May flowers"? Well, I'm fed up with grey skies, rain, and cold. I've been around for 66 Aprils and they're almost always the same but I never give up hope that one April will turn out to be exactly like May and we'll get a jump on summer. Foolish me.
Every fall I plan my garden for the next year. There are always improvements that can be made with choice of color, flower, or placement so it never becomes repetitious. I seem to buy and plant from spring through summer because I always believe I can fit just one more plant in the garden. Then there are the placement mistakes that need to be replanted elsewhere. I know I can't plant in April and have never been able to plant in April but it's so darned stark outside. There are a few daffodils, hyacynths, and crocuses popped up here and there but it just isn't enough.
3 weeks til planting time...how will I get through it?
Every fall I plan my garden for the next year. There are always improvements that can be made with choice of color, flower, or placement so it never becomes repetitious. I seem to buy and plant from spring through summer because I always believe I can fit just one more plant in the garden. Then there are the placement mistakes that need to be replanted elsewhere. I know I can't plant in April and have never been able to plant in April but it's so darned stark outside. There are a few daffodils, hyacynths, and crocuses popped up here and there but it just isn't enough.
3 weeks til planting time...how will I get through it?
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
The Importance of Color
Isn't it interesting how important color is in our lives? Of course, people in the arts live for color but I'm talking about the average, everyday person.
We decorate our homes and ourselves with an eye for which color will best suit the purpose. There are always trends to follow but we usually have a few favorite colors that we won't give up no matter what the current fashion happens to be.
My favorite color has been turquoise for as long as I can remember. When I first viewed the ocean in the caribbean I was overcome with emotion because the water was the most perfect shade of turquoise I had ever seen.
People love to visit gardens because being surrounded by the beautiful colors in nature soothes our souls. I've been told that even the desert is a showcase of color but I've never seen it. Maybe one day.
Advertisers know how susceptible we are to color and use that advantage when creating their advertisements. The color red will draw our eye every time.
Psychologists have told us that lack of sunlight during the winter months will dull our spirits and worsen depression. Being immersed in grey skies for too long makes me totally miserable. Once the sun comes out and highlights whatever colors are still visible in January, I come alive.
I love to dress in vibrant colors but I'm overweight so I have to be careful. Dress up for me is basic black with a splash of red or hot pink to make me forget the black. Casual dress is almost always a lovely bright color with a long shirt to cover my butt. If I had to wear black every day I'd stay in my pyjamas.
I spend the winter in Florida which is heavily populated with Mexicans and Cubans who like to paint their houses strong, exotic colors. At first, these colors assault the eye but soon you realize that those are the colors that make them happy...then you relax and allow yourself to enjoy their freedom of expression. I love the cultural differences we have and hope they never assimilate themselves into the general population so much that they resort to painting their houses white.
Now, let's think, what color should I wear today? It won't be black!
We decorate our homes and ourselves with an eye for which color will best suit the purpose. There are always trends to follow but we usually have a few favorite colors that we won't give up no matter what the current fashion happens to be.
My favorite color has been turquoise for as long as I can remember. When I first viewed the ocean in the caribbean I was overcome with emotion because the water was the most perfect shade of turquoise I had ever seen.
People love to visit gardens because being surrounded by the beautiful colors in nature soothes our souls. I've been told that even the desert is a showcase of color but I've never seen it. Maybe one day.
Advertisers know how susceptible we are to color and use that advantage when creating their advertisements. The color red will draw our eye every time.
Psychologists have told us that lack of sunlight during the winter months will dull our spirits and worsen depression. Being immersed in grey skies for too long makes me totally miserable. Once the sun comes out and highlights whatever colors are still visible in January, I come alive.
I love to dress in vibrant colors but I'm overweight so I have to be careful. Dress up for me is basic black with a splash of red or hot pink to make me forget the black. Casual dress is almost always a lovely bright color with a long shirt to cover my butt. If I had to wear black every day I'd stay in my pyjamas.
I spend the winter in Florida which is heavily populated with Mexicans and Cubans who like to paint their houses strong, exotic colors. At first, these colors assault the eye but soon you realize that those are the colors that make them happy...then you relax and allow yourself to enjoy their freedom of expression. I love the cultural differences we have and hope they never assimilate themselves into the general population so much that they resort to painting their houses white.
Now, let's think, what color should I wear today? It won't be black!
Tuesday, April 24, 2007
We've Got It Good
I spoke to a friend today about some plans we have for the summer. We discussed how full our lives are now that we're "ladies of a certain age" and wondered how we ever accomplished much when our children were young. I know how...we lived for our kids instead of ourselves then. Now our kids are grown and we can concentrate on living our own lives to the fullest.
My friend and I decided we have it pretty good and are living an "old" age that our own parents could never have hoped for. We're enlightened, so to speak, and won't accept sliding into our sunset years by vegetating in front of the T.V. We've developed the attitude that life is meant to be enjoyed.
I'm always hoping that I'm a setting a good example for my grandchildren about how getting old doesn't mean your life is over. We can't even scrape the surface of all there is to know and learn about our world, even if we lived to be a thousand. When we get older we have the time to examine life more closely so we see things we missed in our busy years.
One of the plans for this summer is a drive to New Brunswick for a family reunion. My 17 year old granddaughter is going with me and I'm ecstatic over the opportunity to spend that time with her. The New Brunswick part of the family is on my husband's side (so, therefore, my granddaughter's) and she'll have a wonderful time meeting and mingling with her blood relatives. I'm going to have a wonderful time meeting and mingling, too, just because I enjoy their company.
These days I avoid being anywhere that isn't pleasant and fun. I've learned the secret of walking away from unpleasantness because there's too much good stuff in every direction. I have the right "attitude".
My friend and I decided we have it pretty good and are living an "old" age that our own parents could never have hoped for. We're enlightened, so to speak, and won't accept sliding into our sunset years by vegetating in front of the T.V. We've developed the attitude that life is meant to be enjoyed.
I'm always hoping that I'm a setting a good example for my grandchildren about how getting old doesn't mean your life is over. We can't even scrape the surface of all there is to know and learn about our world, even if we lived to be a thousand. When we get older we have the time to examine life more closely so we see things we missed in our busy years.
One of the plans for this summer is a drive to New Brunswick for a family reunion. My 17 year old granddaughter is going with me and I'm ecstatic over the opportunity to spend that time with her. The New Brunswick part of the family is on my husband's side (so, therefore, my granddaughter's) and she'll have a wonderful time meeting and mingling with her blood relatives. I'm going to have a wonderful time meeting and mingling, too, just because I enjoy their company.
These days I avoid being anywhere that isn't pleasant and fun. I've learned the secret of walking away from unpleasantness because there's too much good stuff in every direction. I have the right "attitude".
When Things Go Wrong
Sometimes there is a neat order to catastrophes. I happen to have a few spots of excema on my face that my dermatologist hasn't been able to clear up to my satisfaction even after years of going to him. This past winter my sister-in-law gave me one of her prescription creams to try and it worked beautifully so I made an appointment with my family doctor to obtain my own prescription.
Yesterday I dropped a showcase lid on my nose which cut it badly enough that it bled quite a bit but didn't break it. When I went to my doctor about the excema cream later in the day his nurse saw my nose and insisted on giving me a tetanus shot. Apparently you should keep your tetanus shots updated and I haven't had one for ages.
Then I showed the doctor my sister-in-law's cream that I wanted a prescription of and she told me that cream should never be used on the face (my sister-in-law uses it on her leg). She then made an appointment for me with a new dermatologist.
What I learned today...don't use other people's prescription medicine!...keep your tetanus shots updated!...see your family doctor regularly so they know what you've been up to!
Yesterday I dropped a showcase lid on my nose which cut it badly enough that it bled quite a bit but didn't break it. When I went to my doctor about the excema cream later in the day his nurse saw my nose and insisted on giving me a tetanus shot. Apparently you should keep your tetanus shots updated and I haven't had one for ages.
Then I showed the doctor my sister-in-law's cream that I wanted a prescription of and she told me that cream should never be used on the face (my sister-in-law uses it on her leg). She then made an appointment for me with a new dermatologist.
What I learned today...don't use other people's prescription medicine!...keep your tetanus shots updated!...see your family doctor regularly so they know what you've been up to!
Monday, April 23, 2007
Some Interesting Things I Saw Yesterday
I'll bet anyone reading my blog lately is bored to tears with the ongoing saga of my basement so I thought I'd add some humor here.
Yesterday I met my sister for coffee at the mall. We do this almost every Sunday and it's become one of the nicer moments of my week.
Anyone who is a "people watcher" should sit in a mall food court on a Sunday and just watch the humanity scurrying around.
I saw a young lady wearing skin tight, low rise jeans and a midriff top. She was about 7-8 months pregnant and her bare belly was almost bigger than she was.
I saw many little "princess" girls, still wearing their frilly dresses from church.
I saw people talking animatedly on cell phones while their companions sat staring into space, bored.
I saw little family units where the Daddy took as much care of the children as the Mommy did.
I saw kids wearing those running shoes with little wheels under them. They scooted in and out of the crowds and it looked like fun.
I saw people sitting alone.
My sister and I sat there for about an hour sipping on Tim Horton's coffee and chatting about our lives and plans.
Maybe there were other people watchers in the crowd who happened to notice us, too. I hope they saw how happy we were.
Yesterday I met my sister for coffee at the mall. We do this almost every Sunday and it's become one of the nicer moments of my week.
Anyone who is a "people watcher" should sit in a mall food court on a Sunday and just watch the humanity scurrying around.
I saw a young lady wearing skin tight, low rise jeans and a midriff top. She was about 7-8 months pregnant and her bare belly was almost bigger than she was.
I saw many little "princess" girls, still wearing their frilly dresses from church.
I saw people talking animatedly on cell phones while their companions sat staring into space, bored.
I saw little family units where the Daddy took as much care of the children as the Mommy did.
I saw kids wearing those running shoes with little wheels under them. They scooted in and out of the crowds and it looked like fun.
I saw people sitting alone.
My sister and I sat there for about an hour sipping on Tim Horton's coffee and chatting about our lives and plans.
Maybe there were other people watchers in the crowd who happened to notice us, too. I hope they saw how happy we were.
Sad Day/Tough Love
Today I phoned a renovator and had him come up and tell me if he can finish what my handyman started. He showed up on time, took notes, and said it wasn't that big a job and he'd do it. He'll give me the price (gulp!) tomorrow.
He'd barely left the house when my handyman showed up at the door with tears in his eyes. He handed me my house key as I'd requested and cried as he explained he hadn't meant to cause me any trouble.
As angry as I was yesterday, the sight of someone in such mental anguish was heartbreaking. I did stand firm, though, and told him he'd left me in a real mess by tearing so much of the basement apart (without my permission) and then abandoning me with it still undone. He wanted to continue the job but I told him no, that I'd already hired someone else to do it.
This man is no demon. He had great intentions when he started redoing my basement but he seemed unable to stop himself from doing too much. Soon he was over his head in work and couldn't face it. The result was that he procrastinated for way too long and I finally lost patience.
I told him how disappointed I was that our relationship had soured over his lack of commitment to completing what had started out as a relatively simple reno job. All he could see was that he'd put more money and time into it than I'd paid for...but he couldn't understand that almost all of the work he'd done was nothing I'd asked for. As of today, 8 months from the beginning, my basement is a demolition zone with half the walls and ceiling gone.
Last Spring I hired this same man to paint the front porch. I asked that it be sanded and painted...it's a small porch. We settled on a price and then he discovered that the concrete was disintegrating so he put a layer of plywood on the porch and steps and painted it with some kind of pebbly stuff that looked great but cost a fortune...so I doubled the price we'd set. It took him 4 months to paint the porch. I'm a slow learner and sometimes dumb as dirt so what did I do? I hired him to redo the basement.
I am at fault for expecting him to do what was asked and get it done in a reasonable amount of time. I've known him for 40 years and should know by now that his personality doesn't allow for that kind of rational behaviour. He has a heart of gold but he follows his own rules and timetable. I deserve to be in the mess I'm in.
He'd barely left the house when my handyman showed up at the door with tears in his eyes. He handed me my house key as I'd requested and cried as he explained he hadn't meant to cause me any trouble.
As angry as I was yesterday, the sight of someone in such mental anguish was heartbreaking. I did stand firm, though, and told him he'd left me in a real mess by tearing so much of the basement apart (without my permission) and then abandoning me with it still undone. He wanted to continue the job but I told him no, that I'd already hired someone else to do it.
This man is no demon. He had great intentions when he started redoing my basement but he seemed unable to stop himself from doing too much. Soon he was over his head in work and couldn't face it. The result was that he procrastinated for way too long and I finally lost patience.
I told him how disappointed I was that our relationship had soured over his lack of commitment to completing what had started out as a relatively simple reno job. All he could see was that he'd put more money and time into it than I'd paid for...but he couldn't understand that almost all of the work he'd done was nothing I'd asked for. As of today, 8 months from the beginning, my basement is a demolition zone with half the walls and ceiling gone.
Last Spring I hired this same man to paint the front porch. I asked that it be sanded and painted...it's a small porch. We settled on a price and then he discovered that the concrete was disintegrating so he put a layer of plywood on the porch and steps and painted it with some kind of pebbly stuff that looked great but cost a fortune...so I doubled the price we'd set. It took him 4 months to paint the porch. I'm a slow learner and sometimes dumb as dirt so what did I do? I hired him to redo the basement.
I am at fault for expecting him to do what was asked and get it done in a reasonable amount of time. I've known him for 40 years and should know by now that his personality doesn't allow for that kind of rational behaviour. He has a heart of gold but he follows his own rules and timetable. I deserve to be in the mess I'm in.
The Aftermath
This is what happens when you complain to your handyman that you're not happy that he's taken 8 months to get a job less than half done. He quits.
I wasn't surprised but I was a little overwhelmed with the mess I was left with and one I wasn't capable of fixing myself. After a short time of feeling totally lost I pulled myself together and decided to hire a professional. All it takes is money but putting up with a torn up basement and an out-of-control demolition "friend" for 8 months used up too much energy and peace of mind on my part.
The only thing my handyman did that I asked for was to take down one offending wall. Then he proceeded to tear down ceilings and walls that I'd wanted to keep! You can only imagine how scary that is and how much misguided faith I had in this man to know what he was doing. In the end, I discovered I'd allowed an untrustworthy individual too much leeway.
I'll keep you posted on my progress in finding someone to complete the work started. Wish me luck!
I wasn't surprised but I was a little overwhelmed with the mess I was left with and one I wasn't capable of fixing myself. After a short time of feeling totally lost I pulled myself together and decided to hire a professional. All it takes is money but putting up with a torn up basement and an out-of-control demolition "friend" for 8 months used up too much energy and peace of mind on my part.
The only thing my handyman did that I asked for was to take down one offending wall. Then he proceeded to tear down ceilings and walls that I'd wanted to keep! You can only imagine how scary that is and how much misguided faith I had in this man to know what he was doing. In the end, I discovered I'd allowed an untrustworthy individual too much leeway.
I'll keep you posted on my progress in finding someone to complete the work started. Wish me luck!
Sunday, April 22, 2007
More Than Disappointed
I've often read or heard about people who began renovations on their homes and then had the renovator run out on them, but now I feel as though I'm in the same boat.
Last September my neighbor's son, whom I'd known most of his life, began a renovation job for me. He was supposed to replace one wall in a basement sewing room, paint the ceilings in 2 rooms and lay laminate floors. Before I knew it he'd removed the existing carpet and vinyl flooring, most of the walls and all of the ceilings (replaced one), moved one wall out 18", installed pot lights, rerouted some ductwork, and undercoated the walls remaining. Then he stopped.
This sounds good until you realize that 8 months later I have an unlivable basement and he's not showing up to finish the job.
Before he started I was capable of doing the bit of repainting needed and maybe even replacing the damaged wall with new drywall...might have needed help from my buddy, Carole, who can do anything! I could even have lived with the old carpeting if I had to and I would still have had a usable basement. Right now it's a nightmare down there and I'm worried I may have to hire someone to finish it.
This handyman, my old friend, has caused a rift in our friendship because he chose to do extra renovations in the basement instead of the few things I asked of him. Now he's bogged down, has added unnecessary expense to the flat fee I paid him, and I'm worse off than I started. Where do I go from here?
This is basically a good guy and I feel confident he'll at least come close to finishing the job...in time. The shame of it is that he's ruined a long time friendship not only with me but with my daughters. All because of a promise unkept.
Last September my neighbor's son, whom I'd known most of his life, began a renovation job for me. He was supposed to replace one wall in a basement sewing room, paint the ceilings in 2 rooms and lay laminate floors. Before I knew it he'd removed the existing carpet and vinyl flooring, most of the walls and all of the ceilings (replaced one), moved one wall out 18", installed pot lights, rerouted some ductwork, and undercoated the walls remaining. Then he stopped.
This sounds good until you realize that 8 months later I have an unlivable basement and he's not showing up to finish the job.
Before he started I was capable of doing the bit of repainting needed and maybe even replacing the damaged wall with new drywall...might have needed help from my buddy, Carole, who can do anything! I could even have lived with the old carpeting if I had to and I would still have had a usable basement. Right now it's a nightmare down there and I'm worried I may have to hire someone to finish it.
This handyman, my old friend, has caused a rift in our friendship because he chose to do extra renovations in the basement instead of the few things I asked of him. Now he's bogged down, has added unnecessary expense to the flat fee I paid him, and I'm worse off than I started. Where do I go from here?
This is basically a good guy and I feel confident he'll at least come close to finishing the job...in time. The shame of it is that he's ruined a long time friendship not only with me but with my daughters. All because of a promise unkept.
Saturday, April 21, 2007
Doing Nothing
After a bit of yard work today I sat myself down on a patio chair and propped my feet up on another and did nothing. I did nothing for about 3 hours, just watched the birds pulling worms out of the ground and a couple of squirrels making out on a tree limb. It's been so long since I sat and did nothing at all that I was amazed it wasn't boring.
My yard has a lot of full grown trees which provide shade in the summer but, since the leaves haven't appeared yet, the yard was lovely and sunny.
I have new neighbors on one side, a young couple with an 11 month old baby named Felix. Odd name but beautiful baby! We gabbed for a while over the fence and they seem like a nice couple.
This was one of those lazy, warm spring days when we should stop whatever else we're doing and just enjoy the moment. As I sat contentedly, sipping on Diet Pepsi and perusing my kingdom (or queendom), I thought how lucky I was to be here...doing nothing.
My yard has a lot of full grown trees which provide shade in the summer but, since the leaves haven't appeared yet, the yard was lovely and sunny.
I have new neighbors on one side, a young couple with an 11 month old baby named Felix. Odd name but beautiful baby! We gabbed for a while over the fence and they seem like a nice couple.
This was one of those lazy, warm spring days when we should stop whatever else we're doing and just enjoy the moment. As I sat contentedly, sipping on Diet Pepsi and perusing my kingdom (or queendom), I thought how lucky I was to be here...doing nothing.
Saturday Mishmash
Well, here I sit at 8:25 A.M. wearing shorts and waiting for the temperature outside to at least come close to 70 degrees before I venture out. Yesterday was gorgeous and I got lots of yard work done so it looks pretty good out there. Today promises to be even warmer and I'm prepared...I just have to wait a few hours.
I heard on the news that the family of the Virginia Tech gunman issued a response to the actions of their son/brother. It was so sad to hear such a heartfelt apology from that family. It's obvious they're suffering in many ways.
I'm not sure I understand how anyone with a close, strong family can ever do anything to hurt or shame that family. My own daughters grew up always wanting to earn their father's respect (mine, too, but the emphasis was on their Dad). I suppose if you felt disenfranchised from your family then their feelings wouldn't count for much.
My cousin phoned me yesterday and asked if she could visit me in Florida next winter. Of course I said yes but I was feeling "oh, god, noooo!". She's a nice person but she drinks too much and has the foulest mouth I've ever heard. She sure wouldn't fit in with the retired folks at my senior park. Oh well, I've got 6 months to figure something out.
Right now the sun is shining brightly and it's about 55 degrees outside. My shorts and I are going to wait inside for a while yet.
I heard on the news that the family of the Virginia Tech gunman issued a response to the actions of their son/brother. It was so sad to hear such a heartfelt apology from that family. It's obvious they're suffering in many ways.
I'm not sure I understand how anyone with a close, strong family can ever do anything to hurt or shame that family. My own daughters grew up always wanting to earn their father's respect (mine, too, but the emphasis was on their Dad). I suppose if you felt disenfranchised from your family then their feelings wouldn't count for much.
My cousin phoned me yesterday and asked if she could visit me in Florida next winter. Of course I said yes but I was feeling "oh, god, noooo!". She's a nice person but she drinks too much and has the foulest mouth I've ever heard. She sure wouldn't fit in with the retired folks at my senior park. Oh well, I've got 6 months to figure something out.
Right now the sun is shining brightly and it's about 55 degrees outside. My shorts and I are going to wait inside for a while yet.
Friday, April 20, 2007
Momma Squirrel
This morning I looked out onto the backyard and saw a squirrel scurrying down a tree trunk. Wouldn't it be interesting if this was the Momma squirrel? I watched as the squirrel made a beeline for the spot we'd put the baby yesterday. It must have been the Momma!
How fascinating that some human mothers can walk away from their babies without a backward glance and this little animal has shown such touching commitment to it's offspring.
How fascinating that some human mothers can walk away from their babies without a backward glance and this little animal has shown such touching commitment to it's offspring.
Thursday, April 19, 2007
Death of a Baby Squirrel
Does anyone remember the little lizard I killed in Florida? I mistakenly thought it was a cockroach and emptied a bottle of Raid on the poor thing. Well, today I killed a baby squirrel.
It was sunny and gorgeous out today...for a Canadian Spring...and I thought it was a good opportunity to do some yard work. I gathered all my tools (broom, rake, garbage containers) and started cleaning up the twigs and branches left behind when one of my sons-in-law (haven't found out yet which one) trimmed the big tree in the backyard away from the roof after I left last Fall.
I was sweeping off the deck when I noticed a huge nest of the twigs stuck in behind the awning on the upper deck. I often get bird's nests in there and that's what I thought it was so I decided to get rid of it before any birds laid their eggs in it.
As I poked and pushed with the end of the broom in an attempt to dislodge the nest, I sort of wondered what kind of bird would build a nest out of such large twigs. Just then, most of the nest came free and a little hairless creature fell out barely able to hang on to what was left in the awning. It creeped me out to see this little thing because I couldn't tell if it was a squirrel or a rat.
I raced into the house and called the S.P.C.A. who were not the least concerned that this little creature might be freezing to death and who told me to call Animal Control at City Hall. Animal Control told me to phone a pest removal company. I phoned one of those companies and they would be delighted to come to my house and take care of the problem...for $240 plus taxes. I told them, "no thanks!".
My 2 grandsons arrived moments later to help me with my yard work and I showed them the nest and the poor little thing (most likely a squirrel) which was now laying on the patio, possibly dead or dying. My big, strapping grandsons didn't want to go near it at first but I think I shamed them when I moaned "do you really want your poor old Gramma to handle it?".
After a great deal of arguing who was going to move it, Chooch got a dustpan and handed it to Nick who tenderly picked the little creature up and laid it way in the back of the yard under a bush. Chooch gathered what he could of the nest and covered the little guy up. We hoped it's mother would come back and tend to it before it froze to death.
I'm afraid their work was probably in vain and I'm becoming a serial killer of wildlife. It sort of ruined the day for all of us.
It was sunny and gorgeous out today...for a Canadian Spring...and I thought it was a good opportunity to do some yard work. I gathered all my tools (broom, rake, garbage containers) and started cleaning up the twigs and branches left behind when one of my sons-in-law (haven't found out yet which one) trimmed the big tree in the backyard away from the roof after I left last Fall.
I was sweeping off the deck when I noticed a huge nest of the twigs stuck in behind the awning on the upper deck. I often get bird's nests in there and that's what I thought it was so I decided to get rid of it before any birds laid their eggs in it.
As I poked and pushed with the end of the broom in an attempt to dislodge the nest, I sort of wondered what kind of bird would build a nest out of such large twigs. Just then, most of the nest came free and a little hairless creature fell out barely able to hang on to what was left in the awning. It creeped me out to see this little thing because I couldn't tell if it was a squirrel or a rat.
I raced into the house and called the S.P.C.A. who were not the least concerned that this little creature might be freezing to death and who told me to call Animal Control at City Hall. Animal Control told me to phone a pest removal company. I phoned one of those companies and they would be delighted to come to my house and take care of the problem...for $240 plus taxes. I told them, "no thanks!".
My 2 grandsons arrived moments later to help me with my yard work and I showed them the nest and the poor little thing (most likely a squirrel) which was now laying on the patio, possibly dead or dying. My big, strapping grandsons didn't want to go near it at first but I think I shamed them when I moaned "do you really want your poor old Gramma to handle it?".
After a great deal of arguing who was going to move it, Chooch got a dustpan and handed it to Nick who tenderly picked the little creature up and laid it way in the back of the yard under a bush. Chooch gathered what he could of the nest and covered the little guy up. We hoped it's mother would come back and tend to it before it froze to death.
I'm afraid their work was probably in vain and I'm becoming a serial killer of wildlife. It sort of ruined the day for all of us.
Virginia Murders
My 16 year old granddaughter wrote a blog about her feelings on the Virginia Tech murders and she said something that touched me deeply. She said that, in the end, no matter the murderer's mental state, he was the one responsible for his actions. He was the one ultimately responsible for making the choice to take the lives of so many innocent people.
There were also many people on the periphery who share in the responsibility in some form. His parents should have been aware that he should be under care, either their's or some psychiatric facility.
The school authorities knew he was a danger to himself and others but did precious little to protect the other students...they didn't even notify them that a dangerous gunman was on the loose at the school until 2 hours after the first killing.
Whoever sold him the gun and ammunition, even legally, participated in the slaughter. The United States government which refuses to practice a strict form of gun control is also mightily responsible.
His tormentors prodded a sick human being, making him even more unstable. They also carry the burden of responsiblity. "Bullying" occurs at all ages and causes untold misery, sometimes death.
But when all the dust settles, Cho made the choice to murder. For whatever reason, he decided that by killing innocent people, he would relieve the hell he was in. He acted in a cruel, cowardly way and that's how he'll be remembered.
There were also many people on the periphery who share in the responsibility in some form. His parents should have been aware that he should be under care, either their's or some psychiatric facility.
The school authorities knew he was a danger to himself and others but did precious little to protect the other students...they didn't even notify them that a dangerous gunman was on the loose at the school until 2 hours after the first killing.
Whoever sold him the gun and ammunition, even legally, participated in the slaughter. The United States government which refuses to practice a strict form of gun control is also mightily responsible.
His tormentors prodded a sick human being, making him even more unstable. They also carry the burden of responsiblity. "Bullying" occurs at all ages and causes untold misery, sometimes death.
But when all the dust settles, Cho made the choice to murder. For whatever reason, he decided that by killing innocent people, he would relieve the hell he was in. He acted in a cruel, cowardly way and that's how he'll be remembered.
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
Raising Babies
I just read my daughter's blog and she's sadly reminiscing about how many mistakes she made raising her two sons. She's thankful they still love her.
I gave birth to my first daughter when I was still 17 years old. Poor baby (and I'm referring to both of us). Kim weighed 9 lbs. 8 oz. (ouch) and came home with a teenage mother who had read somewhere you should feed a baby every 4 hours. Mothers of today who feed on demand will wince at that but how was I to know differently? I never thought to ask my own mother or grandmother so they thought I knew what I was doing. Poor baby (yeh, both of us).
I was 19 when baby girl number two came along. I was a little better prepared for Cindy because I'd had Kim to practice on for 18 months. The problem was that I needed a D&C for 3 months after she was born but didn't know it. In those days we didn't have a government health insurance plan so I couldn't afford to see a doctor about my weakness and fainting spells. Both Kim and Cindy were seldom held by me for those months because I was too weak to lift them. Today I understand that we missed out on some very important bonding.
Dennis and I behaved ourselves and Shelley wasn't born til 4 1/2 years later. I was 23 1/2 and Dennis was almost 27 so we were at the top of our game as far as raising babies by that time. Either Shelley was a perfect baby or we had learned how to appreciate the little life we'd created. Either way, she was the easiest of all to raise.
As in every life and marriage, circumstances control the outcome no matter how good your intentions are. We made mistakes but we did the best we could. Neither one of us had very good role models to show us the way so we had to improvise. Our girls grew into wonderful women who never failed to make us proud of them. Secretly, we were never sure how they managed to survive our parenting.
I gave birth to my first daughter when I was still 17 years old. Poor baby (and I'm referring to both of us). Kim weighed 9 lbs. 8 oz. (ouch) and came home with a teenage mother who had read somewhere you should feed a baby every 4 hours. Mothers of today who feed on demand will wince at that but how was I to know differently? I never thought to ask my own mother or grandmother so they thought I knew what I was doing. Poor baby (yeh, both of us).
I was 19 when baby girl number two came along. I was a little better prepared for Cindy because I'd had Kim to practice on for 18 months. The problem was that I needed a D&C for 3 months after she was born but didn't know it. In those days we didn't have a government health insurance plan so I couldn't afford to see a doctor about my weakness and fainting spells. Both Kim and Cindy were seldom held by me for those months because I was too weak to lift them. Today I understand that we missed out on some very important bonding.
Dennis and I behaved ourselves and Shelley wasn't born til 4 1/2 years later. I was 23 1/2 and Dennis was almost 27 so we were at the top of our game as far as raising babies by that time. Either Shelley was a perfect baby or we had learned how to appreciate the little life we'd created. Either way, she was the easiest of all to raise.
As in every life and marriage, circumstances control the outcome no matter how good your intentions are. We made mistakes but we did the best we could. Neither one of us had very good role models to show us the way so we had to improvise. Our girls grew into wonderful women who never failed to make us proud of them. Secretly, we were never sure how they managed to survive our parenting.
Site Meter Chipping Away At My Confidence
When I first installed the Site Meter I was blown away by the information I received from it. I could see that some of my readers came from as far away as China, Singapore, etc. and that filled my mind with wonder. How had they found me?
Well, I've learned a little more about the site meter and now I know a bit about how they found me...and how long some of them took to read the words I'd crafted. A lot of my readers took 0 seconds to read my blogs. What the hell?
My confidence level dipped a smidgeon but then I thought...that's not what counts. What does count is that I have fun doing this and if even one person likes to read it then that's the real bonus.
My topic for today is a comment on flea market shopping. I was out at my own flea market stall yesterday cleaning and redisplaying what was already there. All around me were stalls selling the remnants of days past...there isn't much you can't find at a good flea market. In some ways it's like wandering through a museum.
The flea markets I frequent in Florida seem to sell mainly brand new junk but I much prefer an old time place that sells nice, used items...not necessarily antiques. My flea market is filled to the rafters with interesting old stuff. Years before I got my own stall I used to enjoy shopping there myself. It's about 1/2 hour drive from home and I'd often spend a couple of hours browsing through the mishmash of items from yesteryear.
There's a romanticism about finding things our parents or grandparents once had in their own homes. For us oldsters, it's interesting to find the things we threw away a few years ago are now worth big bucks. I love glassware of most any kind. If it's old then that's all the better because it comes with a story.
When I'm at my own flea market I spend most of the time tidying but I still like to wander around to see what else is available. It always amazes me.
Well, I've learned a little more about the site meter and now I know a bit about how they found me...and how long some of them took to read the words I'd crafted. A lot of my readers took 0 seconds to read my blogs. What the hell?
My confidence level dipped a smidgeon but then I thought...that's not what counts. What does count is that I have fun doing this and if even one person likes to read it then that's the real bonus.
My topic for today is a comment on flea market shopping. I was out at my own flea market stall yesterday cleaning and redisplaying what was already there. All around me were stalls selling the remnants of days past...there isn't much you can't find at a good flea market. In some ways it's like wandering through a museum.
The flea markets I frequent in Florida seem to sell mainly brand new junk but I much prefer an old time place that sells nice, used items...not necessarily antiques. My flea market is filled to the rafters with interesting old stuff. Years before I got my own stall I used to enjoy shopping there myself. It's about 1/2 hour drive from home and I'd often spend a couple of hours browsing through the mishmash of items from yesteryear.
There's a romanticism about finding things our parents or grandparents once had in their own homes. For us oldsters, it's interesting to find the things we threw away a few years ago are now worth big bucks. I love glassware of most any kind. If it's old then that's all the better because it comes with a story.
When I'm at my own flea market I spend most of the time tidying but I still like to wander around to see what else is available. It always amazes me.
Monday, April 16, 2007
Some Things We'll Be Embarrassed About in Twenty Years
I watched a couple of young men walking ahead of me today. What caught my attention was the odd way they were walking. Their pants were slung so low the crotch was at knee length and they had to walk with their feet spread pretty wide apart to keep the pants from dropping down around their ankles. They looked for all the world as though they'd had an accident in their pants.
I know this is the style and, even though it looks silly to older people, I understand the young men's attempt at setting their generation apart from the previous one. Every generation does the same thing and every generation looks back on the styles of their younger years with a mixture of horror and laughter.
My generation has to carry the shame of the beehive hairdo. In the 50's and 60's we backcombed our hair into towers above our heads, hairsprayed it until it felt like stone, and then decorated it with little bows. Looking back, we all looked as though we had huge deformed heads.
I asked my daughter who is a 70's child what styles from that era fill her with shame. She couldn't come up with one. She said that all those styles have re-emerged and are fashionable again. Maybe there's hope for a return of the beehive hairdo.
I know this is the style and, even though it looks silly to older people, I understand the young men's attempt at setting their generation apart from the previous one. Every generation does the same thing and every generation looks back on the styles of their younger years with a mixture of horror and laughter.
My generation has to carry the shame of the beehive hairdo. In the 50's and 60's we backcombed our hair into towers above our heads, hairsprayed it until it felt like stone, and then decorated it with little bows. Looking back, we all looked as though we had huge deformed heads.
I asked my daughter who is a 70's child what styles from that era fill her with shame. She couldn't come up with one. She said that all those styles have re-emerged and are fashionable again. Maybe there's hope for a return of the beehive hairdo.
Sunday, April 15, 2007
The Infamous Words of Don Imus
Don Imus is the radio personality who referred to the women on a college basketball team as "nappy headed ho's". I was as angry as most people when I heard this but I'm a little dismayed by all the protesters I'm seeing in the news. It seems they're all most insulted by the words "nappy headed" and not too concerned that these women were also called "ho's" (or whores).
Imagine how any of us would feel if we or our daughters were referred to as whores by anyone let along a radio announcer. Why are these protesters not outraged by this word?
Don Imus is a racist but he has also shown abominable disrespect for women of any color. If he'd spoken those words of me or mine I'd be looking for a good lawyer to sue his ass.
Imagine how any of us would feel if we or our daughters were referred to as whores by anyone let along a radio announcer. Why are these protesters not outraged by this word?
Don Imus is a racist but he has also shown abominable disrespect for women of any color. If he'd spoken those words of me or mine I'd be looking for a good lawyer to sue his ass.
My Favorite Mug
I tried adding this picture to my last blog but couldn't figure out how to do it. Anyway, here is a picture of the lovely mug my sweet grandchildren bought me many years ago. And now I'm going to refill it!!
I'm Back Home
I'm back home after 1 1/2 days on the road. The trip was rather uneventful and, other than being forced to stay in a motel by myself the one night, the only other scares were the occasional crazy drivers I encountered.
It's great to be home. There's no place like it in the whole world...didn't someone write a song about that? Home is where your real things are...your 50 year old photos showing you when you were thin, your favorite recliner for watching T.V., your collections of whatever (mine are glassware), the dinnerware you bought for special occasions, silverware once owned by your Gramma, and your very own special pillow that nestles your head perfectly. Home is where you sigh, knowing you're where you belong.
I brought a lot of new stuff into my home this spring...tons of fabric, stuff to sell on Ebay or take to the flea market, a tree face (always wanted one), about 6 pair of shoes (too pretty to not buy), and a few bottles of rum and gin (okay, I lied to the border guard). Looking at the pile of loot, I wonder why I didn't exercise better control of my spending urges. Then I think, "well, I certainly won't shop like this next year!"...but I think I said the same thing last year.
I had coffee this morning in the special mug my grandchildren bought me for my birthday about 10 years ago. It never fails to bring a smile to my face in recollection of the day it was bought. My middle girl's 3 children took me out for lunch which Kyle, the only one with a wallet, paid for. Then we walked around the attached gift shop searching for the perfect gift. Kyle was so intent on pleasing me and shyly pointed out things I knew were too expensive but we finally chose a lovely, blue pottery mug. Tyson and Aeron stood solemnly by as Kyle drew the money from his little wallet and paid the cashier. It still brings tears to my eyes and it's a memory I'll cherish as long as I live.
Many of the "things" we have in our homes come with wonderful stories and memories. It's these attachments that make our house our home.
It's great to be home. There's no place like it in the whole world...didn't someone write a song about that? Home is where your real things are...your 50 year old photos showing you when you were thin, your favorite recliner for watching T.V., your collections of whatever (mine are glassware), the dinnerware you bought for special occasions, silverware once owned by your Gramma, and your very own special pillow that nestles your head perfectly. Home is where you sigh, knowing you're where you belong.
I brought a lot of new stuff into my home this spring...tons of fabric, stuff to sell on Ebay or take to the flea market, a tree face (always wanted one), about 6 pair of shoes (too pretty to not buy), and a few bottles of rum and gin (okay, I lied to the border guard). Looking at the pile of loot, I wonder why I didn't exercise better control of my spending urges. Then I think, "well, I certainly won't shop like this next year!"...but I think I said the same thing last year.
I had coffee this morning in the special mug my grandchildren bought me for my birthday about 10 years ago. It never fails to bring a smile to my face in recollection of the day it was bought. My middle girl's 3 children took me out for lunch which Kyle, the only one with a wallet, paid for. Then we walked around the attached gift shop searching for the perfect gift. Kyle was so intent on pleasing me and shyly pointed out things I knew were too expensive but we finally chose a lovely, blue pottery mug. Tyson and Aeron stood solemnly by as Kyle drew the money from his little wallet and paid the cashier. It still brings tears to my eyes and it's a memory I'll cherish as long as I live.
Many of the "things" we have in our homes come with wonderful stories and memories. It's these attachments that make our house our home.
Thursday, April 12, 2007
Bye For Now!
This will be my last posting until I get back home to Canada. I'm leaving Florida at about 4 A.M. tomorrow morning and hope to reach Beckley, West Virginia before I stop at 6 P.M. That's more than half way home. My distance depends on my stamina so I might stop earlier and then take 3 days on the road instead of 2. I enjoy the drive immensely, drive carefully, and keep a low profile when out in public so that I don't draw attention to the fact that I'm a woman travelling alone. Isn't it a shame that we live in a society where a woman my age has to carry a fear for her life and purse?
Today will be hot and sunny so I'll spend a lot of time at the pool, then do laundry and pack the few remaining things in the car. By suppertime, which will be a hamburger dinner at the clubhouse, the car will be fully packed and ready to go. I've already kissed and hugged dozens of people goodbye and will do the same tonight at the hamburger dinner.
I'm very anxious to be on my way so I know I won't sleep well tonight without the help of Tylenol P.M. As much fun and enjoyment that was had here this winter, I'm leaving with a happy heart filled with the anticipation of a good summer and then a return to Florida in October to do it all over again. In the back of my mind is always the thought that my winters in Florida are numbered because of age and finances. At best, there might be 5-6 more.
So, bye for now and I'll be back gabbing away in just a few days!
Today will be hot and sunny so I'll spend a lot of time at the pool, then do laundry and pack the few remaining things in the car. By suppertime, which will be a hamburger dinner at the clubhouse, the car will be fully packed and ready to go. I've already kissed and hugged dozens of people goodbye and will do the same tonight at the hamburger dinner.
I'm very anxious to be on my way so I know I won't sleep well tonight without the help of Tylenol P.M. As much fun and enjoyment that was had here this winter, I'm leaving with a happy heart filled with the anticipation of a good summer and then a return to Florida in October to do it all over again. In the back of my mind is always the thought that my winters in Florida are numbered because of age and finances. At best, there might be 5-6 more.
So, bye for now and I'll be back gabbing away in just a few days!
Wednesday, April 11, 2007
Cruel Words
An American radio personality has spent the past week eating his words. Somehow he doesn't come across as truly sorry for what he said on the air, though. Last week he was commenting on a college women's basketball game and laughingly described the women on one team as "nappy headed ho's". Did this guy just crawl out from under a rock? Surely he couldn't believe that he could get away with a public insult like that.
Words can hurt. They can destroy a person's self esteem. In this case, and in this enlightened world, I don't think those particular words will do any harm to the women but they've reminded us once again that some people of power and influence still believe they can say whatever pops into their bigoted little heads without consequences.
Throughout my life I've been the recipient of cruel words many times over and it's surprising how you don't forget them...or the person who spoke them. I believe they don't affect me any more but....isn't it interesting that there is a "but"? If we're strong we use personal insults to propel ourselves to succeed in life and I think I've done that fairly well. But....
Words can hurt. They can destroy a person's self esteem. In this case, and in this enlightened world, I don't think those particular words will do any harm to the women but they've reminded us once again that some people of power and influence still believe they can say whatever pops into their bigoted little heads without consequences.
Throughout my life I've been the recipient of cruel words many times over and it's surprising how you don't forget them...or the person who spoke them. I believe they don't affect me any more but....isn't it interesting that there is a "but"? If we're strong we use personal insults to propel ourselves to succeed in life and I think I've done that fairly well. But....
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
Getting Ready for Departure
The final week of a winter at the trailer park is usually a week filled with bustling activity followed by inactivity soaking up the sun at the pool. This year I've been cursed with rain and cool temperatures the past few days. Today it will be much warmer but there's still a chance of rain every day. I know, no-one cares!
I always leave my trailer neat and clean but this year I've cleaned a bit more thoroughly. A friend will arrive here in early October and has offered to clean and prepare my trailer for my return in late October. I can't have her thinking I'm a slob. There's only so much dust you can blame on 6 months of wind blowing through the closed windows. It actually does happen to a degree, though, because these trailers are not well constructed. A few well sheltered windows also have to be left slightly open so that there is a bit of air flow to combat mildew and mold.
As I was cleaning yesterday I decided to unhook my camera from the computer and, in the tangle of cords that flow in all directions, managed to remove the main plug. Later, while e-mailing a friend, the blue screen of death appeared and it wasn't long before I had no screen at all. Shocked at what I first thought was the early demise of my laptop, I traced my steps and discovered my error. All is now working well.
Some friends stopped by in the afternoon to let me know they were selling all the gorgeous rattan furniture in their Florida room. I phoned my friend, Carole, who just bought the trailer across the road but is now home in Canada. She bought the furniture and now I have to figure out how to pack it into her already crowded Florida room. It was just too good a deal to pass up, though, so I'll manage somehow. Her old furniture has to go but I'm not sure if we're allowed to take large items like that up to our dump site. In any case, I'm going to have to draw on the kindness, and strength, of some of the men around here.
A couple of friends and I went out for dinner and were surprised to see how close to our park the latest brush fire came. Firefighters managed to keep it from jumping the highway onto our side of the road but it still came within 1/2 mile of our park. Even if there is no outward sign, these brush fires can simmer beneath the surface of the ground and come back to life at any time. I was thankful for the rain.
My personal plan for today is to get some travelling money out of the bank. Gas is selling at about $2.85 a gallon here but Carole said it's $1.03 a litre (approximately $4.00 a gallon) back home. My little Honda is great on gas but it will still cost me about $125. to get home. One year it will be simply too expensive for me to drive at all.
But today I'm happy, healthy, and have a bit of work and a bit of play planned for the day. Life is good!
I always leave my trailer neat and clean but this year I've cleaned a bit more thoroughly. A friend will arrive here in early October and has offered to clean and prepare my trailer for my return in late October. I can't have her thinking I'm a slob. There's only so much dust you can blame on 6 months of wind blowing through the closed windows. It actually does happen to a degree, though, because these trailers are not well constructed. A few well sheltered windows also have to be left slightly open so that there is a bit of air flow to combat mildew and mold.
As I was cleaning yesterday I decided to unhook my camera from the computer and, in the tangle of cords that flow in all directions, managed to remove the main plug. Later, while e-mailing a friend, the blue screen of death appeared and it wasn't long before I had no screen at all. Shocked at what I first thought was the early demise of my laptop, I traced my steps and discovered my error. All is now working well.
Some friends stopped by in the afternoon to let me know they were selling all the gorgeous rattan furniture in their Florida room. I phoned my friend, Carole, who just bought the trailer across the road but is now home in Canada. She bought the furniture and now I have to figure out how to pack it into her already crowded Florida room. It was just too good a deal to pass up, though, so I'll manage somehow. Her old furniture has to go but I'm not sure if we're allowed to take large items like that up to our dump site. In any case, I'm going to have to draw on the kindness, and strength, of some of the men around here.
A couple of friends and I went out for dinner and were surprised to see how close to our park the latest brush fire came. Firefighters managed to keep it from jumping the highway onto our side of the road but it still came within 1/2 mile of our park. Even if there is no outward sign, these brush fires can simmer beneath the surface of the ground and come back to life at any time. I was thankful for the rain.
My personal plan for today is to get some travelling money out of the bank. Gas is selling at about $2.85 a gallon here but Carole said it's $1.03 a litre (approximately $4.00 a gallon) back home. My little Honda is great on gas but it will still cost me about $125. to get home. One year it will be simply too expensive for me to drive at all.
But today I'm happy, healthy, and have a bit of work and a bit of play planned for the day. Life is good!
Sunday, April 08, 2007
An Evening at Downtown Disney
Tonight we went over to Downtown Disney and strolled the busy stores and streets. The place was teeming with people...couples, families, oldsters, and youngsters, all of them with their own personal life stories. I'd bet they came from every country in the world judging by the myriad languages spoken.
My friends and I ate at the Earl of Sandwich and sat on the patio watching the children run through the intermittent spurts of a large fountain, laughing joyously when they got wet. Most were on vacation in Florida and having a wonderful time enjoying something free for a change. There is no admittance charge to Downtown Disney and it's really a pleasant place to while away a few hours, especially since no auto traffic is allowed there.
We received our free piece of Giardelli chocolate (more if we go through the line twice) and then watched tourists purchasing oyster shells which promised to hold at least one pearl. They did.
We walked through the little store where all Disney merchandise was under $10. and I spotted some Disney character sippy cups, original price $12 but now 4 for $10. I bought 4 to sell on Ebay.
With such a massive crowd of people winding their way in every direction, there was no rudeness, no wildness. Everyone seemed happy to be where they were and considerate in their movements. I wonder if the lively, but innocent, strains of Disney music heard unobtrusively in the background brought out the best in us?
As darkness fell, the lights came on and Downtown Disney looked like a fairyland. We bought ice-cream and sat on a patio watching the passers-by. We chatted about our lives past and present and thoroughly enjoyed this beautiful Florida evening in such pretty and interesting surroundings.
It was an evening that made us thankful for the experience.
My friends and I ate at the Earl of Sandwich and sat on the patio watching the children run through the intermittent spurts of a large fountain, laughing joyously when they got wet. Most were on vacation in Florida and having a wonderful time enjoying something free for a change. There is no admittance charge to Downtown Disney and it's really a pleasant place to while away a few hours, especially since no auto traffic is allowed there.
We received our free piece of Giardelli chocolate (more if we go through the line twice) and then watched tourists purchasing oyster shells which promised to hold at least one pearl. They did.
We walked through the little store where all Disney merchandise was under $10. and I spotted some Disney character sippy cups, original price $12 but now 4 for $10. I bought 4 to sell on Ebay.
With such a massive crowd of people winding their way in every direction, there was no rudeness, no wildness. Everyone seemed happy to be where they were and considerate in their movements. I wonder if the lively, but innocent, strains of Disney music heard unobtrusively in the background brought out the best in us?
As darkness fell, the lights came on and Downtown Disney looked like a fairyland. We bought ice-cream and sat on a patio watching the passers-by. We chatted about our lives past and present and thoroughly enjoyed this beautiful Florida evening in such pretty and interesting surroundings.
It was an evening that made us thankful for the experience.
No Easter Bunny?
A mall here in the States (Florida, I think) is displaying all the accouterments of Easter to bring in customers but has decided to omit the word "Easter" because it represents a Christian holiday. Parents are paying big bucks to have their children's pictures taken sitting on the knee of a man dressed as the Easter Bunny but his title is simply "Bunny". That particular mall will be closed on Easter Sunday. Hmmm!
I don't think these decisions are being made by Americans and Canadians who have Christian backgrounds. It's entirely possible that if you follow the chain of command in businesses that are trying to eradicate our Christian rituals and culture you will find the top dog follows a different religion altogether. Either that or he/she is so terrified of being politically incorrect that he/she is brain dead.
We can put a stop to this immediately. Don't shop at those stores or malls. Don't hand over your hard earned dollars to anyone who is bent on eliminating our traditions. I already made that decision last December when "they" tried to take away our Christmas tree and even the word "Christmas".
We are many and we are powerful. Don't mess with Santa or the Easter Bunny! They may be Christian symbols but they're also an integral part of our culture and no-one has the right to immigrate here and take it away.
I don't think these decisions are being made by Americans and Canadians who have Christian backgrounds. It's entirely possible that if you follow the chain of command in businesses that are trying to eradicate our Christian rituals and culture you will find the top dog follows a different religion altogether. Either that or he/she is so terrified of being politically incorrect that he/she is brain dead.
We can put a stop to this immediately. Don't shop at those stores or malls. Don't hand over your hard earned dollars to anyone who is bent on eliminating our traditions. I already made that decision last December when "they" tried to take away our Christmas tree and even the word "Christmas".
We are many and we are powerful. Don't mess with Santa or the Easter Bunny! They may be Christian symbols but they're also an integral part of our culture and no-one has the right to immigrate here and take it away.
Saturday, April 07, 2007
Crime
I watch the news on T.V. every morning and become very depressed about how many human beings inflict pain and death on their fellow man. Why are we like this? Is humanity so seriously flawed that even social mores and laws can't keep us under control?
We have to be able to justify in our own mind that what we are doing is acceptable to us. How does one justify raping a child or murdering an innocent bystander? The perpetrator, once caught, will first lie and then, when the lies don't work, cry about his/her terrible childhood. Then they will find a lawyer willing to fight their cause and this is why we have no respect for lawyers.
My sister-in-law was a lawyer before retiring and I've asked her how a lawyer can represent someone who is obviously guilty. She said that it isn't her job to determine guilt. But what about her moral obligations to her client's victims? I guess I'll never understand this line of reasoning.
Most of us conduct our lives to the best of our ability... working and supporting our families, paying our taxes, and trying to be decent people. But underneath that facade lies some degree of deceit and cruelty which we have to struggle to control. Self discipline determines whether or not we act on our inner selfishness.
I used to think the church was what kept us half way civilized until their leaders were arrested for molesting children. No one has come forward to explain to us how a guilty priest or pastor could justify his actions. Apparently practicing religion doesn't necessarily make us decent.
Criminals have all kinds of excuses about why they commit crimes. What it all boils down to is that they have no self discipline and have allowed their personal selfishness to take precedence over the rights of anyone else.
I know "good" people. But they're not perfect. And maybe that's the best we can do.
We have to be able to justify in our own mind that what we are doing is acceptable to us. How does one justify raping a child or murdering an innocent bystander? The perpetrator, once caught, will first lie and then, when the lies don't work, cry about his/her terrible childhood. Then they will find a lawyer willing to fight their cause and this is why we have no respect for lawyers.
My sister-in-law was a lawyer before retiring and I've asked her how a lawyer can represent someone who is obviously guilty. She said that it isn't her job to determine guilt. But what about her moral obligations to her client's victims? I guess I'll never understand this line of reasoning.
Most of us conduct our lives to the best of our ability... working and supporting our families, paying our taxes, and trying to be decent people. But underneath that facade lies some degree of deceit and cruelty which we have to struggle to control. Self discipline determines whether or not we act on our inner selfishness.
I used to think the church was what kept us half way civilized until their leaders were arrested for molesting children. No one has come forward to explain to us how a guilty priest or pastor could justify his actions. Apparently practicing religion doesn't necessarily make us decent.
Criminals have all kinds of excuses about why they commit crimes. What it all boils down to is that they have no self discipline and have allowed their personal selfishness to take precedence over the rights of anyone else.
I know "good" people. But they're not perfect. And maybe that's the best we can do.
Friday, April 06, 2007
My Playmate Went Home
My sister-in-law, Faye, left for home today and I can't believe how boring it is here without her. Granted, she pops in for coffee every morning and I spend most of every day with her but I thought I had a busy life beyond her. I've got lots of friends here but most have also left for home and the ones that are still here aren't my closest buddies. I'm feeling a little lonely.
I thought for a brief moment of heading home around Wednesday instead of next Friday/Saturday but I don't dare. The man who started redoing my basement last August has finally resumed work after 6 months stoppage (I wasn't there so he didn't think he had to be, either) and apparently moved crap up to my livingroom. I don't want to go home to a mess. If I wait to leave on Friday and threaten him with his life I might have a chance of walking into a house as neat as I left it. I'm sort of stuck here for a whole week...without Faye.
One of my closer buddies lives right across the road from me here but she's an inside person and I hate to be indoors when the weather is nice. The park has emptied considerably so I don't get the walk by company that I normally do, either. One good thing is that I can play on the computer for hours without people storming in and telling me to get the hell off and go with them to whatever we had planned. We must always look on the upside.
This is a way of life I only have in this Florida trailer park. At home the pace is ever so much slower and I spend more time on the computer. My family comes by occasionally and so do my neighbors but it isn't an everyday/all day thing like it is here. I still see Faye about 2-3 times a week, though. No wonder I'm lost without her today!
Oh well, I can console myself with constantly checking on the site meter I attached to my blogs. I had been thrilled to discover they were being read in China but I've since found out that they're also being read in Spain and Turkey!! I'm utterly amazed. How the heck did they find me?
I thought for a brief moment of heading home around Wednesday instead of next Friday/Saturday but I don't dare. The man who started redoing my basement last August has finally resumed work after 6 months stoppage (I wasn't there so he didn't think he had to be, either) and apparently moved crap up to my livingroom. I don't want to go home to a mess. If I wait to leave on Friday and threaten him with his life I might have a chance of walking into a house as neat as I left it. I'm sort of stuck here for a whole week...without Faye.
One of my closer buddies lives right across the road from me here but she's an inside person and I hate to be indoors when the weather is nice. The park has emptied considerably so I don't get the walk by company that I normally do, either. One good thing is that I can play on the computer for hours without people storming in and telling me to get the hell off and go with them to whatever we had planned. We must always look on the upside.
This is a way of life I only have in this Florida trailer park. At home the pace is ever so much slower and I spend more time on the computer. My family comes by occasionally and so do my neighbors but it isn't an everyday/all day thing like it is here. I still see Faye about 2-3 times a week, though. No wonder I'm lost without her today!
Oh well, I can console myself with constantly checking on the site meter I attached to my blogs. I had been thrilled to discover they were being read in China but I've since found out that they're also being read in Spain and Turkey!! I'm utterly amazed. How the heck did they find me?
Thursday, April 05, 2007
The Problem Family Member
Every family has at least one member who makes everyone want to scream in frustration. Mine is my beloved grandson, Chooch. Chooch has never been able to get his life on track and yet he's the most lovable young man in the world.
In grade school, he spent more time being suspended than any other child in the school. It was never for anything terribly serious. He spit out the window; he wouldn't stop talking; he pushed another child. The school autohorities hounded my daughter to put Chooch on Ritalin because he obviously was afflicted with ADD (or ADHD). We, as a family, were adamant that he shouldn't be put on drugs and, after being psychologically evaluated at my daughter's expense, Chooch was found to not have ADD. Just think what harm could have been done to this child if we'd caved in to the school authorities. His mother always felt that what he suffered from was BRAT, anyway.
Chooch's grades were terrible even though he was always very bright. He couldn't concentrate or stay still long enough to learn anything from books and yet he was seldom kept back a grade in school. At 15 he entered high school, barely able to read and totally unable to function without constant supervision. Teachers are in short order in high school and couldn't devote enough time to him alone so he finally just dropped out. My daughter, poor soul, had struggled with being a working single mother and desperately trying to help Chooch with his homework but to no avail. His frustration level was too high and her physical and emotional strength not strong enough.
Chooch eventually moved out on his own and supported himself with various low paid jobs. At each new job he was welcomed with open arms because he's so friendly, good natured, and works hard. Before too long he'd get bored and start skipping work or fool around until he broke something on the job. He seems to live for the day and not worry about tomorrow so he doesn't realize how his actions affect the rest of his life.
Then there are his friends. He has one wonderful friend who has stuck by him since grade school and tries hard to steer Chooch the right way. But Chooch is just too friendly and generous with anyone who is nice to him and he seems to attract a lot of users.
Chooch recently found a full time job in a restaurant and his brother was managing his paycheck for him. Things were going relatively well. Yesterday his apartment building was declared in imminent danger of collapsing and everyone was evacuated, unable to return for clothes or furniture. He is currently staying with his brother and wondering when I'll be home. Oh oh!!
In grade school, he spent more time being suspended than any other child in the school. It was never for anything terribly serious. He spit out the window; he wouldn't stop talking; he pushed another child. The school autohorities hounded my daughter to put Chooch on Ritalin because he obviously was afflicted with ADD (or ADHD). We, as a family, were adamant that he shouldn't be put on drugs and, after being psychologically evaluated at my daughter's expense, Chooch was found to not have ADD. Just think what harm could have been done to this child if we'd caved in to the school authorities. His mother always felt that what he suffered from was BRAT, anyway.
Chooch's grades were terrible even though he was always very bright. He couldn't concentrate or stay still long enough to learn anything from books and yet he was seldom kept back a grade in school. At 15 he entered high school, barely able to read and totally unable to function without constant supervision. Teachers are in short order in high school and couldn't devote enough time to him alone so he finally just dropped out. My daughter, poor soul, had struggled with being a working single mother and desperately trying to help Chooch with his homework but to no avail. His frustration level was too high and her physical and emotional strength not strong enough.
Chooch eventually moved out on his own and supported himself with various low paid jobs. At each new job he was welcomed with open arms because he's so friendly, good natured, and works hard. Before too long he'd get bored and start skipping work or fool around until he broke something on the job. He seems to live for the day and not worry about tomorrow so he doesn't realize how his actions affect the rest of his life.
Then there are his friends. He has one wonderful friend who has stuck by him since grade school and tries hard to steer Chooch the right way. But Chooch is just too friendly and generous with anyone who is nice to him and he seems to attract a lot of users.
Chooch recently found a full time job in a restaurant and his brother was managing his paycheck for him. Things were going relatively well. Yesterday his apartment building was declared in imminent danger of collapsing and everyone was evacuated, unable to return for clothes or furniture. He is currently staying with his brother and wondering when I'll be home. Oh oh!!
Wednesday, April 04, 2007
I'm My Worst Critic (maybe)
The story I'm writing is coming along not so bad but every time I read it I find considerable fault with it. If it was written on paper I'd have erased a hole in it already. I started writing this story with loads of confidence that it might not be spectacular but it would be pleasant reading...but it really isn't. My story line is good but the sentences just sound flat. Nobody talks the way I'm writing.
I've enjoyed writing the blogs because they fly out of my fingers onto the keyboard like conversations. I certainly don't do much editing...maybe a few spelling corrections. This is the way I like to write, casual and down to earth. I wish my story writing was as easy.
At home I have quite a few children's stories written but I've been too afraid to show them to anyone. If no-one reads them and laughs at them then I can convince myself that there's still hope for me. All my life I've thought that inside of me was a talented writer just waiting to spring out and astound the world.
Maybe I'll never write a decent story but I still have the dream.
I've enjoyed writing the blogs because they fly out of my fingers onto the keyboard like conversations. I certainly don't do much editing...maybe a few spelling corrections. This is the way I like to write, casual and down to earth. I wish my story writing was as easy.
At home I have quite a few children's stories written but I've been too afraid to show them to anyone. If no-one reads them and laughs at them then I can convince myself that there's still hope for me. All my life I've thought that inside of me was a talented writer just waiting to spring out and astound the world.
Maybe I'll never write a decent story but I still have the dream.
My Visit to China/Taiwan
In 1989 my husband had to go to China on business and his boss, his brother, allowed him to take me with him. It was such a magnificent opportunity and I've always thought of it as the trip of a lifetime.
We flew to Vancouver, then to Shanghai, and then arrived in Beijing late at night. The flight had taken 19 hours if I remember correctly. Dennis' contact met us at the airport and arranged for the taxi to the Beijing Hotel. I remember thinking it was like a dream to enter that fabulous old hotel, especially since there were no lights on outside and only faint lights inside. They wisely conserve power at night.
One of my favorite memories is of the lovely crocheted doilies that sat on the backs of the chairs, even in the lobby. It all seemed so quaint and from another age.
Dennis spent most of his days with businessmen so I was free to roam around the area. I felt very safe but my colorful clothing and caucasian face brought many curious stares. The Chinese people at that time seemed to wear nothing but blue or brown, even the children. Occasionally someone would politely approach me and test their knowledge of English.
I walked through Tianamin (spelling?) Square and saw far off in one corner a Kentucky Fried Chicken restaurant...American influx of businesses was just starting at that time. I also toured the Forbidden Palace which was one of the the highlights of my trip. When you entered the Forbidden City, you were given headphones which directed you on the tour in the language of your choice. The headphones could be stopped or started when you reached the described area. The Forbidden City is massive and so full of history and culture. In the gift shop I purchased a few water color paintings that I'll always treasure.
Much of the time we were in China we had an English speaking interpreter along with us. Our little lady took me shopping and tried to convince me to buy a beautiful sculptured wooden vase that I turned my nose up at. Instead I bought 2 porcelain vases covered in appliqued flowers and vines. In later years I discovered that the sculptured vase would have accelerated in value while the porcelain vases became a common sight in stores back in Canada. I have no class.
Our guide took us on a tour to the Great Wall of China. I can't describe how thrilling it was to walk along this famous wall. The part we walked on seemed to be all steps, though...going up. It wasn't long before my legs began to weaken. Not long after we started our trek we passed a Coca Cola stand and I remember thinking it was out of place on the Wall. About 1/2 hour later I would have killed for a nice cold Coke.
At one point I was looking through the viewfinder of my camera and I saw a spectacular sight. Dennis was surrounded by soldiers while our little guide was jumping up and down screaming her head off. Chinese visitors on the wall were also surrounding the whole group yelling at the soldiers. Dennis just stood there with a cigarette in hand and looking completely befuddled. Apparently we'd not seen a "no smoking" sign posted because the wall is a national monument. Dennis was a hard core smoker and he was outside so therefore he smoked. Not on the Great Wall, though! He was fined the equivalent of $3.00 Cdn. Our angry guide and bystanders weren't able to convince the soldiers that they should give the Canadian visitor a break. To be fined on the Great Wall of China...what a story!
One of our side trips in China was south of Beijing. I don't remember the name of the city but it's basic fuel was coal and every outside surface...window sills, etc. was covered in a film of coal dust. A common sight on the street was face masks worn by the citizens to preserve their lungs.
We travelled by train from city to city and the countryside was beautiful. The scenery wasn't like the Canadian or U.S. but had a unique quality of it's own that seemed older somehow. As though it had existed long before America. That sounds silly but that's how it looked to me.
The trains were also an experience. The backs of the seats were graced with those lovely doilies and many passengers had brought along glass jars. Soon a lady came along and poured boiling water into each of the jars. Apparently the passengers brought their own tea, too. How simple and economic! We Canadians and Americans are definitely spoiled but we pay a high price for it.
The last leg of our trip was to Taiwan. It was very different from China, very crowded and cosmopolitan in comparison. Dennis, being frugal (for a better word), decided the hotel we were booked into was too expensive ($120 per night)so he moved us to another hotel ($95 per night)with a room so small there was barely room for the bed. The compressors for the hotel were right outside our window and ran 24 hours a day. We argued. He won. I became unfriendly.
One day I decided to take a walk around the neighborhood but the street signs were all in Chinese. It didn't take long for me to get lost even though I'd counted the blocks...I have no sense of direction. I hailed a taxi which took me up 1/2 a block and over 1/2 block to my hotel. The taxi driver must have thought I was one lazy north american!
Overall, my memories of this wondrous trip fill me with amazement at times. Did I really visit China? Did I really walk on the Great Wall? How fortunate I was to have this experience in my lifetime.
We flew to Vancouver, then to Shanghai, and then arrived in Beijing late at night. The flight had taken 19 hours if I remember correctly. Dennis' contact met us at the airport and arranged for the taxi to the Beijing Hotel. I remember thinking it was like a dream to enter that fabulous old hotel, especially since there were no lights on outside and only faint lights inside. They wisely conserve power at night.
One of my favorite memories is of the lovely crocheted doilies that sat on the backs of the chairs, even in the lobby. It all seemed so quaint and from another age.
Dennis spent most of his days with businessmen so I was free to roam around the area. I felt very safe but my colorful clothing and caucasian face brought many curious stares. The Chinese people at that time seemed to wear nothing but blue or brown, even the children. Occasionally someone would politely approach me and test their knowledge of English.
I walked through Tianamin (spelling?) Square and saw far off in one corner a Kentucky Fried Chicken restaurant...American influx of businesses was just starting at that time. I also toured the Forbidden Palace which was one of the the highlights of my trip. When you entered the Forbidden City, you were given headphones which directed you on the tour in the language of your choice. The headphones could be stopped or started when you reached the described area. The Forbidden City is massive and so full of history and culture. In the gift shop I purchased a few water color paintings that I'll always treasure.
Much of the time we were in China we had an English speaking interpreter along with us. Our little lady took me shopping and tried to convince me to buy a beautiful sculptured wooden vase that I turned my nose up at. Instead I bought 2 porcelain vases covered in appliqued flowers and vines. In later years I discovered that the sculptured vase would have accelerated in value while the porcelain vases became a common sight in stores back in Canada. I have no class.
Our guide took us on a tour to the Great Wall of China. I can't describe how thrilling it was to walk along this famous wall. The part we walked on seemed to be all steps, though...going up. It wasn't long before my legs began to weaken. Not long after we started our trek we passed a Coca Cola stand and I remember thinking it was out of place on the Wall. About 1/2 hour later I would have killed for a nice cold Coke.
At one point I was looking through the viewfinder of my camera and I saw a spectacular sight. Dennis was surrounded by soldiers while our little guide was jumping up and down screaming her head off. Chinese visitors on the wall were also surrounding the whole group yelling at the soldiers. Dennis just stood there with a cigarette in hand and looking completely befuddled. Apparently we'd not seen a "no smoking" sign posted because the wall is a national monument. Dennis was a hard core smoker and he was outside so therefore he smoked. Not on the Great Wall, though! He was fined the equivalent of $3.00 Cdn. Our angry guide and bystanders weren't able to convince the soldiers that they should give the Canadian visitor a break. To be fined on the Great Wall of China...what a story!
One of our side trips in China was south of Beijing. I don't remember the name of the city but it's basic fuel was coal and every outside surface...window sills, etc. was covered in a film of coal dust. A common sight on the street was face masks worn by the citizens to preserve their lungs.
We travelled by train from city to city and the countryside was beautiful. The scenery wasn't like the Canadian or U.S. but had a unique quality of it's own that seemed older somehow. As though it had existed long before America. That sounds silly but that's how it looked to me.
The trains were also an experience. The backs of the seats were graced with those lovely doilies and many passengers had brought along glass jars. Soon a lady came along and poured boiling water into each of the jars. Apparently the passengers brought their own tea, too. How simple and economic! We Canadians and Americans are definitely spoiled but we pay a high price for it.
The last leg of our trip was to Taiwan. It was very different from China, very crowded and cosmopolitan in comparison. Dennis, being frugal (for a better word), decided the hotel we were booked into was too expensive ($120 per night)so he moved us to another hotel ($95 per night)with a room so small there was barely room for the bed. The compressors for the hotel were right outside our window and ran 24 hours a day. We argued. He won. I became unfriendly.
One day I decided to take a walk around the neighborhood but the street signs were all in Chinese. It didn't take long for me to get lost even though I'd counted the blocks...I have no sense of direction. I hailed a taxi which took me up 1/2 a block and over 1/2 block to my hotel. The taxi driver must have thought I was one lazy north american!
Overall, my memories of this wondrous trip fill me with amazement at times. Did I really visit China? Did I really walk on the Great Wall? How fortunate I was to have this experience in my lifetime.
Tuesday, April 03, 2007
I Am Read In China
Once I got my site meter in place I started to delve into all it would show me about who was reading my blogs. Lo and behold, over the last 4-5 hours about 1/3 of visitors to my blog site were from China. I am so impressed! And flattered!! It would be nice if more of the people who read my blogs would leave a comment. I'd love to know what they think of the subjects I choose to write about.
This is such a pleasurable outlet for someone like me who loves to write but doesn't fool herself that she's a real "writer". Anyway, getting the site meter installed will just make blogging more interesting for me.
Write back sometime, okay??
This is such a pleasurable outlet for someone like me who loves to write but doesn't fool herself that she's a real "writer". Anyway, getting the site meter installed will just make blogging more interesting for me.
Write back sometime, okay??
Site Meter
How can I explain the problems I've had trying to insert a site meter on my blogs? I tried a few times in the past year and couldn't figure out what Site Meter was telling me to do so I just kept cancelling it. This last attempt sent me to the Blogger help section where I threw myself on the mercy of anyone willing to take the time to explain to me, in "infant" language, how to do it. A very nice person answered my request quickly but apparently didn't believe I'm as dumb as I am and explained the process as though directing the explanation to a 10 year old. I'm not that good! Then I got the bright idea to go into the help section of Site Meter and follow the directions. Simple, you say? Nooooo!
I was smart enough to print out a few directions but I haven't a clue where I got them...I've been struggling with this supposed simple task for too long. These directions were almost down to my level but I was able to follow them okay. I was told to go onto the "layout" or "template" link on my blog. Whoopee! I found it!!
Then I was told I'd be on the "add and arrange page element". Sure enough, there it was. Now I was getting excited. Next I was told to click on the "add on" link. There was none. Unbelievably, I'd gotten this far and my damn page had no "add on" link. I searched around a bit but finally gave up and almost cancelled the Site Meter once again.
Today I had finished writing my blog and decided, just for the heck of it, to look at the layout page again. The "ad on" link was there!! Suddenly it disappeared again and I was furious. If I was the paranoid type I would have thought that Blogger.com was playing tricks with this poor old lady. I went in and out of the site and couldn't get that link back. So I went out to lunch.
Just now I tried again and the link was there. I did a few odd things (not sure what) and was finally able to put Site Meter on my blog site. I'm not sure but I think it might only be on the last blog I wrote, though. Guess I'll find out soon.
P.S. I just published this blog and the site meter was there. I am so happy!
P.P.S. I just checked my older blogs and the site meter is on them also. I'm so happy I could spit.
I was smart enough to print out a few directions but I haven't a clue where I got them...I've been struggling with this supposed simple task for too long. These directions were almost down to my level but I was able to follow them okay. I was told to go onto the "layout" or "template" link on my blog. Whoopee! I found it!!
Then I was told I'd be on the "add and arrange page element". Sure enough, there it was. Now I was getting excited. Next I was told to click on the "add on" link. There was none. Unbelievably, I'd gotten this far and my damn page had no "add on" link. I searched around a bit but finally gave up and almost cancelled the Site Meter once again.
Today I had finished writing my blog and decided, just for the heck of it, to look at the layout page again. The "ad on" link was there!! Suddenly it disappeared again and I was furious. If I was the paranoid type I would have thought that Blogger.com was playing tricks with this poor old lady. I went in and out of the site and couldn't get that link back. So I went out to lunch.
Just now I tried again and the link was there. I did a few odd things (not sure what) and was finally able to put Site Meter on my blog site. I'm not sure but I think it might only be on the last blog I wrote, though. Guess I'll find out soon.
P.S. I just published this blog and the site meter was there. I am so happy!
P.P.S. I just checked my older blogs and the site meter is on them also. I'm so happy I could spit.
Spousal Abuse
There is a couple here who have made the winter miserable for their neighbors. The couple are serious alcoholics and possibly druggies. Way too often the man will beat the woman up and the police are called. Even more often there are public arguments raging between the two combatants which move into the street and disturb or frighten the seniors living nearby. After every altercation the woman returns to her abuser within a day.
I don't know these people because the man works and the woman stays inside her trailer all day. They don't associate with the rest of us and, to be honest, most of us are not interested in forming any kind of friendship with them. But we worry that one day he'll kill her.
Police and psychologists know that the percentage of women who repeatedly return to their abusers is very high. It's been written that the women have had their pride and self-esteem beaten out of them. Deep down they must know their man will never change but they must have hope that they'll survive in the long run.
There are many women who feel that living without a man is impossible. But I have met many women who, like me, are very happy to be on their own and with no intention of ever bringing a man into their lives again. Women really are becoming stronger and less dependent on men to provide for them. I've always stressed to my daughters and granddaughters that they should pursue careers that will support them in the event that their husbands or future husbands fall by the wayside. They have been taught to have respect for themselves and never suffer abuse from anyone. There is nothing sadder than an abused woman who is totally dependant on her abuser.
The only hope I see to eradicate the problem is to preach self-respect to children and teach them the difference between self-respect and selfishness. If we truly understand that every human being, even ourselves, has the right to love and kindness, then we won't accept anything less. If parents can't be relied upon to spread the word then the job falls upon the school teachers.
I'm very proud of the strong women in my family and the strong men they've chosen as mates.
I don't know these people because the man works and the woman stays inside her trailer all day. They don't associate with the rest of us and, to be honest, most of us are not interested in forming any kind of friendship with them. But we worry that one day he'll kill her.
Police and psychologists know that the percentage of women who repeatedly return to their abusers is very high. It's been written that the women have had their pride and self-esteem beaten out of them. Deep down they must know their man will never change but they must have hope that they'll survive in the long run.
There are many women who feel that living without a man is impossible. But I have met many women who, like me, are very happy to be on their own and with no intention of ever bringing a man into their lives again. Women really are becoming stronger and less dependent on men to provide for them. I've always stressed to my daughters and granddaughters that they should pursue careers that will support them in the event that their husbands or future husbands fall by the wayside. They have been taught to have respect for themselves and never suffer abuse from anyone. There is nothing sadder than an abused woman who is totally dependant on her abuser.
The only hope I see to eradicate the problem is to preach self-respect to children and teach them the difference between self-respect and selfishness. If we truly understand that every human being, even ourselves, has the right to love and kindness, then we won't accept anything less. If parents can't be relied upon to spread the word then the job falls upon the school teachers.
I'm very proud of the strong women in my family and the strong men they've chosen as mates.
Sunday, April 01, 2007
Just a Moment
I had a rare day to myself today and used part of the morning to amble around the flea market. Half of the stalls were closed for the summer...Florida would be lost without the snowbirds...but I did manage to buy an old set of salt and pepper shakers for $1.
I left the flea market and drove up to Ross' hoping they'd gotten some new bathing suits in but they hadn't so I moved on to Beall's. Beall's is by far my favorite store and I think it can only be found in Florida. Whoever does their buying for them knows how a visitor to the south wants to dress...the fabric colors and patterns are bright, light, and scrumptious. Both quality and price are good, too. Because I was by myself I could spend all the time I wanted just browsing but I finally bought a terrific Alia shirt that was 40% off.
When I finished shopping it was close to 1 P.M. so I drove to a nearby Red Lobster for lunch. My waiter, who could have been my son-in-law's (David) twin, moaned loudly "Are you all by yourself???". Why do people think it's sad to eat alone? Sometimes it's pleasant and that's how it was today.
I placed my order and then sat quietly observing the diners around me. Very close was a dear little family of Mom, Dad, and three little girls. The youngest girl had pushed her chair right up against her father's and, the whole time I was there, demanded his full attention. She chattered away to him in Spanish and occasionally had to recapture his attention by calling "Poppy!".
What impressed me was his calm exterior. He never chastised her or acted as though he resented the fact that his other children weren't getting their fair share of him...not to mention his wife. My guess is that he might possibly be a soldier who had been away for a while and the little girl just couldn't get enough of him. Her mother noticed me watching and smiled at me. I'm glad she understood I wasn't being critical but was just enjoying the family's dynamics.
Jason, my waiter, brought my lunch of deep fried flounder (I'd asked for broiled), mashed potatoes (notice, no fries), salad, and those unbelievably tasty cheese buscuits.
Pretty darned nice day out by myself!
I left the flea market and drove up to Ross' hoping they'd gotten some new bathing suits in but they hadn't so I moved on to Beall's. Beall's is by far my favorite store and I think it can only be found in Florida. Whoever does their buying for them knows how a visitor to the south wants to dress...the fabric colors and patterns are bright, light, and scrumptious. Both quality and price are good, too. Because I was by myself I could spend all the time I wanted just browsing but I finally bought a terrific Alia shirt that was 40% off.
When I finished shopping it was close to 1 P.M. so I drove to a nearby Red Lobster for lunch. My waiter, who could have been my son-in-law's (David) twin, moaned loudly "Are you all by yourself???". Why do people think it's sad to eat alone? Sometimes it's pleasant and that's how it was today.
I placed my order and then sat quietly observing the diners around me. Very close was a dear little family of Mom, Dad, and three little girls. The youngest girl had pushed her chair right up against her father's and, the whole time I was there, demanded his full attention. She chattered away to him in Spanish and occasionally had to recapture his attention by calling "Poppy!".
What impressed me was his calm exterior. He never chastised her or acted as though he resented the fact that his other children weren't getting their fair share of him...not to mention his wife. My guess is that he might possibly be a soldier who had been away for a while and the little girl just couldn't get enough of him. Her mother noticed me watching and smiled at me. I'm glad she understood I wasn't being critical but was just enjoying the family's dynamics.
Jason, my waiter, brought my lunch of deep fried flounder (I'd asked for broiled), mashed potatoes (notice, no fries), salad, and those unbelievably tasty cheese buscuits.
Pretty darned nice day out by myself!
Eating/Drinking One's Self to Death
Think it can't be done? Well, one of our residents here seems to be making a valiant attempt to do just that. In this park we have more opportunities to overeat than most other places on earth. We have regular potlucks which is nothing more than a monstrous buffet. We have hamburger dinners every 2 weeks and luncheons every Tuesday. We have donuts and coffee in the clubhouse every Saturday and even the occasional full breakfast. Then, of course, there was the cruise where food reigned 24 hours a day. There are also countless groups of people heading out to eat meals at restaurants every day.
The resident mentioned is a very nice man who loves (or lives) to eat. It's been noticed that he eats extremely large portions at every function and then even brags about the enormous quantities he consumes daily. He was a heart attack waiting to happen. He was taken to the hospital yesterday with a racing heartbeat and the doctors are keeping him in intensive care while they complete their tests. It all really makes me wonder why we abuse our bodies so badly.
A lady stopped by for a surprise visit yesterday and somehow we got onto the topic of drinking too much booze. She is a lovely, well put-together lady who no-one (not even me) would ever know is a very heavy drinker. During our conversation she confessed that she drinks 8-9 alcoholic beverages every day...and does so because she has to. But she emphasized that she isn't an alcoholic. Because we don't know each other very well, I think she was using me as a sounding board. I wish I'd had the strength to advise her to get help with her problem but I didn't. It wasn't the right time, I guess.
I'm still on my potato chip/french fry free diet. This is my feeble attempt to make myself a bit healthier and I hope it helps. I feel good but just have to look in the mirror to see how I've abused this poor old body. We all have our demons in some form and have to deal with them the best we can. Instead of turning to booze or infidelity when I had my life struggles, I turned to potato chips. Isn't that silly?
I've never advocated being a vegetarian or exercising until there isn't an ounce of fat left on your body but there has to be a happy medium. If I had it to do over again I'd be more aware of my body needs instead of taking it for granted. This old body is the only thing we have to get us around and we might be able to replace a few worn out parts but the chassis is with us for life.
The resident mentioned is a very nice man who loves (or lives) to eat. It's been noticed that he eats extremely large portions at every function and then even brags about the enormous quantities he consumes daily. He was a heart attack waiting to happen. He was taken to the hospital yesterday with a racing heartbeat and the doctors are keeping him in intensive care while they complete their tests. It all really makes me wonder why we abuse our bodies so badly.
A lady stopped by for a surprise visit yesterday and somehow we got onto the topic of drinking too much booze. She is a lovely, well put-together lady who no-one (not even me) would ever know is a very heavy drinker. During our conversation she confessed that she drinks 8-9 alcoholic beverages every day...and does so because she has to. But she emphasized that she isn't an alcoholic. Because we don't know each other very well, I think she was using me as a sounding board. I wish I'd had the strength to advise her to get help with her problem but I didn't. It wasn't the right time, I guess.
I'm still on my potato chip/french fry free diet. This is my feeble attempt to make myself a bit healthier and I hope it helps. I feel good but just have to look in the mirror to see how I've abused this poor old body. We all have our demons in some form and have to deal with them the best we can. Instead of turning to booze or infidelity when I had my life struggles, I turned to potato chips. Isn't that silly?
I've never advocated being a vegetarian or exercising until there isn't an ounce of fat left on your body but there has to be a happy medium. If I had it to do over again I'd be more aware of my body needs instead of taking it for granted. This old body is the only thing we have to get us around and we might be able to replace a few worn out parts but the chassis is with us for life.
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