The Astonishingly Bad Pun That Occurred To Me While Working on the Trim Around Reid's Bedroom Window

Looks pretty good despite the fact that I'm not a finish carpenter. Finish carpenter. Finnish carpenter! I'm not a Finnish carpenter, I'm a half Norwegian carpenter!

The Anti-Yogurt

I thought it was vanilla yogurt. It's in the same section of the dairy products in a container just like the yogurt I usually buy, but there was no Yoplait. So it seems I grabbed something called cultured dairy blend instead. That sounds more like something you'd smear on a phony baked potato for a photo shoot than something you'd eat. I opened it and stirred it a bit, the consistency was a bit firmer, sort of like ricotta cheese. I tasted it. Not bad. Not terribly sweet. Feeling adventurous, I tossed some into the blending cup with the banana, blueberries, and orange juice that were waiting and blended away. As usual, it was tasty, despite the substitution, and I have suffered no ill effects. I really need to look more closely at what I grab when grocery shopping. 

Seasonal Switch-up

I have been known to express an opinion using this guy.

In the spirit of the Halloween season, I will be using this guy instead.

Goodnight, Dear Marilyn

Pardon the glare and poor composition of this photo, please. Focus* instead on the joy in the moment that is captured here. And where is here? Tombstone, Arizona, children, in some bar in February of 1984. My friend Theresa, in hat with camera to the left, and I had driven down from South Dakota to visit my Mom and sis Martine. I'm in the middle, Mom is behind me, Martine is in front of me. To the right is Mom's friend Marilyn, also visiting from SD. This was the only photo I could find of Marilyn, though I'm sure more exist in my most disorganized photo boxes. She and Mom were very good friends for a number of years. They met as co-workers and remained friends through my mom's many career changes and moves from one place to another. When I lived in Brookings, I always enjoyed bumping into her in a grocery aisle or on the bike trail near her apartment and having a quick catch-up chat. Because Mom seemed to me to be at loose ends in her life, I was grateful to Marilyn who was something of an anchor, a friend who stayed in touch and cared for her in ways the rest of us couldn't manage. Mom wasn't easy to get close to and she cut ties with so many people along the way that it was comforting to know there were those chosen few who made the effort to maintain contact. When Mom died in 2010, it fell to me to make a number of phone calls to share that sad news. One of those calls was to Marilyn, and a most difficult one for me to make. She had been diagnosed with scleroderma a few years before, and its effects on her ability to speak had increasingly made her more homebound and also made it difficult to understand her on the phone. I think that was the last time I talked to her. For some reason, Marilyn popped into my head a couple of days ago and I couldn't shake the feeling that something had happened. The internet informed me by way of her obituary that she had died in August and that per her request there would be no funeral service. She was survived by a couple of nephews and their wives, she had been widowed years before and her parents had also passed. She and her husband, Ralph, whom she always referred to as my Ralph, did not have children. It's sad when you outlive most of your family and friends and there is no one left to mourn you. I do believe it's the connections to others that make life meaningful. Marilyn and my mom were friends, and in honor of that friendship, today I will light a candle to celebrate those years.

*Pardon also, please, my intentional photo-related pun.

The Last Picking

We Can Make It Stop

Once more, on what ought to have been a normal Monday morning, I tuned in to NPR and heard about yet another violent attack on innocent people by a man with an arsenal of military style weapons. The current administration in Washington says this isn't the time to negotiate gun laws, this is the time to pull together as a nation. Well, this sad and angry girl says we can do both at the same time. Sign this petition. Call your reps in our nation's Capital and voice your concern, your anger, your ideas for a solution to prevent this tragedy from happening again. The problem is, hearing the news of a mass shooting in this country has become an almost normal happening. We can make it stop. It's time to take action.

October the First

It's one of those days, chilled from working out in the yard just before rain showers blew in, that I miss the big bathtub in the old house. Which makes me think I should call my plumber and find out if he can find one similar to this at a lower cost. So that next year long about now I can enjoy a steamy soak in fragrant, bubbly water. The tomato thicket has been placed in the compost and the last dozen or so apples of love have been brought in. The basil is still doing so beautifully I potted a few and brought them in to enjoy the sun on the kitchen window sill. The weatherman says it may freeze tonight so I'm thinking the magical surviving poinsettia should be brought into the garage. Reid would be so proud of me for getting the garbage out to the curb. Normally it's his job so I have to say I do miss him just a bit. Lacking the facilities for a hot bath I will settle for a shower, get into some flannel jammies, and enjoy a glass of wine with my Netflix. October has arrived and suddenly it definitely feels like Fall. Time for soup and pie and Halloween preparation!