Author Archives: kzmclain

Thursday Thoughts

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Shopped ’til We Dropped
I only gave birth to one child, and that child was a boy. As such, I have had little chance in my life to shop for girls’ clothes. It’s true that I have five granddaughters, but for various reasons, I haven’t had much opportunity to shop with/for them. So it was with great glee that I took Dagny shopping for school clothes on Monday. It was her birthday gift from us. Given that her birthday was August 7, I think it was about time we shopped. We had a wonderful time together. I wasn’t able to buy a lot of pretty dresses since she is much more drawn to athletic clothes and Van sneakers. Still, we had a blast.

We Should Be Dancin’, Yeah
The first night we got to Montpelier, Micah took it upon himself to try and teach his papa to dance via a video of some sort. Bill gave it his all, and I, for one, was simply happy that he didn’t put his back…..

Chicken Little
You sort of forget what all comes with a move to a new abode. Heather and Lauren not only moved their kids and their home furnishings, etc., but they had to move their chickens. They bought a new chicken coop, and erected it in the perfect spot in their new back yard. I went with Heather to gather the six chickens from the old house, and this, my friends, was no easy task. It wasn’t that they didn’t want to move necessarily. It’s just that when humans approach chickens, the chickens get a mite nervous that they may be that night’s dinner. At any rate, we gathered them into boxes (and when I say we, I mean Heather) and drove them to their new digs. As they were released from the boxes, I pointed out that Heather hadn’t yet put in the fences. No, I’m going to go get the chicken wire right now at the old house, she told me. What are you going to do with the chickens right now, I wondered. Oh, they’ll just stick right around here. They won’t leave the corner of this yard, she assured me. She and Lauren left, and maybe a half hour later, I looked out the front window. To my surprise, there were three or four chickens wandering around the yard. The front yard, that is. I went outside and tried to shoo them to the back yard, but they basically said you aren’t the boss of me. At one point, a dog walker said, “Did I just see a chicken walk by?” The good news is that eventually, all six chickens were gathered safely and put in their new home — WITH A FENCE…..

All Maple Syrup, All the Time
Vermonters are serious about their maple syrup. I recall recently when Joseph and Micah were visiting Denver. They looked at a jar of maple syrup, and with a sneer, said, “This maple syrup is from…..Canada.” At any rate, I couldn’t help but shoot this photo at a restaurant at which we ate lunch while in Montpelier. Maple syrup anyone?…..

Ciao

At the Speed of Light

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I learned to type when I was in high school, where it was mandatory for girls to take Typing 101. While I was only a fair math student, and biology and chemistry were not my forte, I was really good — no, GREAT — at typing. I took that skill into the real world, both in college and in many of my jobs between undergrad and graduate school.

I learned to type on a totally manual typewriter, then moved on to an electric. I can still remember the sound of that ding that let you know that it was time to hit the lever to move to the next line. At some point, rather than a lever, it was a button. Suweeeeeet! My friends, it was not uncommon for me to type between 90 and 100 wpm (which is typist extraordinarian shorthand for words per minute),  with no mistakes. Well, not many at any rate. I still kept a bottle of White-Out by my typewriter.

Now, of course, typewriters went the way of the Dewey Decimal System Card Catalogs about which I wrote yesterday. We no longer type. Instead, we keyboard. And it’s hard to argue with me if I say that keyboarding is a stupid word.

Having bragged about my typing speed, I will now tell you that I am an incredibly slow texter. I text A LOT. But I am one of those sad seniors who holds the phone in the left hand and pokes the keys with the index finger of the right hand. No thumbs involved. My grandkids not only text with their thumbs, they can do it on the run. Sometimes they even do the entire thing with one hand, using one thumb.

I couldn’t text with my thumbs even if I wanted to, because I have arthritis in my thumbs. Mom told me if I kept cracking my knuckles, I would eventually have arthritic thumbs. It was just one of the many things about which she was correct. (She also wasn’t crazy about my first husband.)

It was no surprise to read an article recently that told of a research study indicating that the quickest way to keyboard on a mobile phone is using your two thumbs and autocorrect. No surprise there. The study went on to show that kids aged 10-19 years old are faster texters than older people. The only thing surprising about that finding is that some university or organization spent money to ascertain that information. Heck, they could have just asked me. My grandkids text at the speed of sound.

Still, there was one interesting thing I learned from the study. It seems that these 10 – 19 year-old texters type, er, keyboard nearly as quickly as their than 40-year-old mothers and fathers type, er, keyboard on a regular computer keyboard. According to the study, 40-year-olds keyboard about 50 wpm while sitting at their computers, while my grandkids and their friends text at a speed of 38-40 wpm.

As you can see, neither can compete with the 90-100 wpm this Nana TYPED on her handy dandy Smith-Corona.

Library Stacks

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Now that I’m retired, if you asked me what I wish I had been when I grew up, I would probably say a librarian. The thing is, I’m basing that on the fact that I like to read, and that libraries make me happy. I have loved libraries since I was a little girl.

I have a friend who actually is a librarian, or at least was, because now she, too, is retired. She told me once that when she was interviewing people for library jobs, she always asked them why they wanted to work in a library. If they answered because I like to read, she would immediately discount them as a viable candidate. Because if you think about it,  the reality is you are more likely to see them sitting at a computer doing research.

That, my friends, is why I would actually have SUCKED at being a librarian. I have little talent (or, frankly, affection) for research. I generally can’t even figure out what words to put in Google when I’m trying to figure out the answer to a question or problem.

Anyhoo, she and I had lunch recently, and we got to talking about libraries. Which then got us talking about the Dewey Decimal System.

“Kids don’t even know what that means,” I said to her. She quickly corrected me,  reminding me that the Dewey Decimal System is still alive and well and accessed frequently. If you go to a library and look for Lidia’s Italian-American Kitchen cookbook which was published in 2001, you will still find it in the 641 area, at 641.5945. The difference is in the system by which you access that number. Baby Boomers recall going to a library — either a public library or your school library — and finding a wooden filing cabinet full of index cards arranged alphabetically. Those cards provided all of the information needed to locate the book, the information that we now access via the library’s computer system. Those paper cards have gone the way of our Rolodex wheel.

I have fond memories of those wooden file cabinets. It’s how I — and all Baby Boomers — researched our English or Social Studies term papers. Our research began, however, by stopping at Marion the Librarian’s desk so that she could suggest books and save you time.

What I learned from my librarian friend that I really DIDN’T know was that Melvil Dewey was not a very nice fellow. It’s true that he created the library classification system that saved all of our asses, but in his spare time, he was sexually harassing women long before Matt Lauer’s grandfather was born. Not only was he making young female librarians run for cover when he entered the door, but he also was racist and antisemetic to boot.

The American Library Association, whose members’ grandmothers were probably among those being chased around the book stacks by Dewey himself, voted this past June to remove his name from its highest honor, formerly known as the Melvil Dewey Medal. There was no debate, and the ayes won handily.

While there was no excuse for Mr. Dewey’s behavior, without the Dewey Decimal System, I bet it would be a free-for-all at Public Libraries world-wide.

Monday Musings

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Makeup Work
I didn’t offer my Thursday Thoughts last week for a variety of reasons. I’m always surprised at the fact that people tell me they miss my Thursday Thoughts, because my thoughts are not very profound. Nevertheless, to make up for having no thoughts last week, I am providing musings today.

Birthday Laughs
Bill celebrated his birthday on Saturday, and as part of his celebration, we went to see comedian Tom Papa at the Comedy Works with Dave and Jll. He was absolutely hilarious, making me laugh so hard I had tears! His opening act was also extremely funny, but unfortunately, I can’t recall her name. I liked many things about him, not the least of which is that his comedy routine is clean. I’m not a prude, but sometimes I think that comedians use sex and profanity because they don’t want to be more creative.

More Birthday Fun
To continue the birthday celebration, Court and his family came over for cake and ice cream last night. Good birthday celebrations run several days. Earlier in the day, I took the kids to see Abominable, which was a real treat. Afterwards, Cole wanted to go in the photo booth they provide in which you can get a photo taken for a mere five bucks. We’ll do a selfie when we get home, I told him…..

Who knew that my hair would be sticking straight up in the air?

I Could Always Walk Backwards
As I was getting ready for church yesterday morning, I was putting on my makeup. I rarely wear makeup except to church. Even then, as I look in the mirror, I often don’t really see myself. But yesterday I couldn’t help but notice that the new cardigan sweater I was wearing looked nice. The buttons are laying so flat, I thought to myself. Until I noticed that they were laying so flat because I had the sweater on backwards. Before you start envisioning me in some sort of acrobatic movement to button the sweater, I must tell you that I pulled it over my head while buttoned. I was extremely thankful to have noticed this because I can think of almost nothing that would have been more embarrassing. Oy vey.

Far Away Places
Bill and I are leaving on Wednesday (assuming the weather cooperates) for our fall visit to AZ. We’re going to drive so that we can take all of our summer clothes which we no longer need here but will need in AZ. We always think we won’t bring much, and then once we pack up our car, we look like the Beverly Hillbillies. We are taking it very slow this time, turning what most people do in one day into a three-day trip. Why not? We’re retired. We will fly back sometime before Thanksgiving, as usual.

Ciao.

Saturday Smile: Shut Up Reba!

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My yellow bug is a 2003, with just over 97,000 miles. It has a cassette player and a AM/FM radio. I have no built-in GPS; there is no blue tooth, Sirius radio is nonexistent. It’s okay. I get along fine listening to sports radio and two of my favorite country stations.

I’m telling you this because of a phenomenon that happened to me this past weekend while we were in Vermont. We had a nice rental car, an upgrade from a midsize car to an SUV. One day while we were there, I took Joseph and Micah to the Montshire Museum, about an hour away in Norwich, VT. Bill was busy hammering and using power tools, so I was on my own.

I wasn’t terribly worried about finding the museum despite the fact that T-Mobile (which happens to be my carrier) hasn’t realized yet that Vermont exists. I had only snippets of cell service during our entire trip. But the museum’s website had given directions, which I wrote down, and it seemed very easy.

And it was. I found the museum without any problems. By the way, as we traveled towards the museum, we solved the world’s problems. How do you think we could end war in the world I asked them, for example. Micah’s answer?  He decided the country that would rule the world would be determined by a football game. You know, Russia v. the United States. Whichever country’s team won would rule the world for that year. Hey. There are flaws in his system, but we adults aren’t doing that great a job right now.

Anyway, when it was time to return home, I realized that I wasn’t sure exactly how to go. While their website told me how to get to the museum, it didn’t tell me how to get home. Sure, most people would just turn the paper upside down and go back the way they came. Don’t laugh, but I have absolutely no sense of direction. But the good news was I had cell service. So I plugged my phone (which was low in battery power from taking pictures and video) into the car and set Google Maps to tell me how to go.

Here’s where the technology with which I am wholly unfamiliar (see above, my car is two sound systems behind most cars) came into play. Because every time the Google voice would give me an instruction, a song from my Apple Tunes library would come on. And it wasn’t even a good song. It was one of my least favorite Reba McIntyre songs. I would turn it off, but as soon as the voice spoke again, Reba was back. I know there is a way to manage this mayhem, but I don’t know what it is. What I do know, however, is that there were two boys in the back seat who nearly peed their pants from laughing at their Nana’s situation, and her sheer inability to fix the problem.

There laughter made me laugh, and it still does when I think about it.

Have a good weekend.

Friday Book Whimsy: Evvie Drake Starts Over

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Sometimes it feels good to read a book that makes you smile, not only as you’re reading it, but after you put the book down. Evvie Drake Starts Over was a book that left me smiling long after I closed the book. Well, shut off my Kindle. Author Linda Holmes is a pop culture correspondent for National Public Radio, and has a good handle on everyday normal people. People like Evvie Drake.

Eveleth Drake gets the call from the hospital that everyone dreads: her husband has been killed in a car accident. The thing is, Evvie had been busy loading up her car with her personal items intending to leave her husband before he arrived home that evening. Her husband Tim is the highly respected doctor in the small Maine coastal town in which they both have lived their entire lives.

But Evvie’s secret — the thing no one else knows — is that Tim was not a good husband. He belittled Evvie at every opportunity. He blamed her for any thing that goes wrong. He was emotionally abusive at every turn and it was getting worse. And she had had enough. But her inability to reconcile the fact that he died at the same time that she was getting ready to escape leaves her ashamed and unable to move ahead with her life, even as the months go by.

At the same time, far away in New York City, Yankees star pitcher Dean Tenney has what professional athletes call the yips. He can no longer throw a straight pitch. He has tried everything to no avail.

The two have little in common except for a mutual friend Andy. Andy has been Evvie’s confidant about everything since Tim’s death except the truth about her husband. And Andy has been Dean’s best friend since childhood. He recognizes that Dean needs to get away from New York City, and suggests that he rent a home in Evvie’s oversized house.

The two agree to sharing a home, provided neither asks questions of the other. That works until they become friends, and then their friendship begins to blossom into something more.

Evvie Drake Starts Over is a story of friendship, love, and the importance of learning who you really are and how much you are able to withstand and still survive. Blossom, in fact.

I loved the dialogue in this book, and I was left wishing that I could be best friends with all of the characters. I really enjoyed the story of Evvie Drake.

Here is a link to the book.

Green Mountain State Fun

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Every time we’ve come to Vermont, I’ve thought to myself, “This is the prettiest place I’ve ever visited.” That’s saying a lot because I’ve not only visited some mighty pretty places in my blessed lifetime, but I live in two of the prettiest states in the United States — Colorado and Arizona.
But seriously? Those maple trees in the autumn? Blazing reds and golds carpet the hills, making them look like they’re on fire. Our timing was perfect because yesterday, as we prepared to return to Denver, we learned that rain was expected later that evening in Vermont, almost certainly destined to knock the remaining leaves off the trees. It’s true that it’s better to be lucky than to be smart…..
Heather and Lauren and the boys had moved into their new home so recently that the lock was barely installed. Bill knew his work was cut out for him when his daughter greeted him with a hug and a power drill. Those who know my husband understand that nothing could have made him happier than a few days with lots of projects. Oh, and his daughter and grandsons. Their new house is located on Pleasantview Street, and it is, indeed, a pleasant view from their front yard…..
Here’s the thing that’s most remarkable about the Green Mountain State: the people are extraordinarily friendly.
Thanks for your help, and have a nice day. Hey, you’re welcome, and you have a nice day too. Thanks, I will, but I hope yours is even nicer. Thanks for that thought, and I feel the same. Hey, me too.
And so on. It took a while to leave my high strung city stress level behind and slow down to Vermont speed. A-yup. The first indication of Vermonters’ friendliness was at the airport, where seating is on rocking chairs…..
Even the woman behind the counter at literally the worst hotel I’ve ever stayed in was very cheerful and managed to greet us without telling us under her breath to get out while you still can. The thing is, there was no place else to go because we weren’t the only ones who wanted to visit Vermont during peak Indigenous People (formerly known as Columbus Day) weekend. It’s why we were at the worst hotel I’ve ever stayed in in the first place. It’s all too true that the early bird gets the worm. We checked out at the first opportunity and headed to the friendliest hotel I’ve ever stayed in which not only cleaned their rooms, but offered free pop and homegrown Vermont apples, and sent us home with little bottles of VT maple syrup.
While Bill installed lights and fixed cracks and repaired crown molding, I got to visit a cool science museum and have lunch at King Arthur’s Flour factory with our grandsons Joseph and Micah…..
One day I got to watch them each play soccer, which was a special treat…..

Micah excels at defense!

I was also able to see Micah play piano during his regular lesson. Another 20 years and he’ll be a maestro. Twinkle Twinkle Little Star will be a distant memory. However, it’s important to note that he also can do manual labor…..
Our trip even included a visit to Montreal, where we managed to allude drug sniffing dogs at the border and shop in an IKEA store that looked just like the store in Denver except the signs were in French.
We hugged the boys goodbye the night before we left, and they headed off to their newly carpeted bedrooms. Our goodbyes to the boys and to Heather and Lauren were not as sad as usual because in a few short weeks they will be flying to Denver for Thanksgiving.
As much as we enjoyed our time in Vermont, we were both glad to get home to Denver. Nineteen degree temps were history, and we are looking at temps in the 70s for a few days at least.
​
There’s no place like home.

See You Soon!

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Bill and I are taking a short vacation to visit our family in Vermont……

We will return to Denver on Wednesday. If I have enough ambition, I will blog on Thursday. Otherwise, I will be back on Friday, October 18.

Have a great week!

Friday Book Whimsy: This Tender Land

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When I look back at my reading list thus far in 2019, it seems as though I’ve read a lot of books that take place during the Great Depression, or just after. It’s probably accidental, though I will admit to a somewhat perverse enjoyment in reading books set around this troublesome time. The people who lived through those years were/are so stalwart because they had to be in order to survive. They have an enviable sense of loyalty and tenacity.

Those attributes are readily displayed by the main characters of  This Tender Land, a novel written by one of my favorite authors, William Kent Krueger. The novel is set during the Great Depression, mostly in Minnesota, but all along the Mississippi River into St. Louis. It tells the story of three boys and a young girl who are forced to grow up quickly.

The Lincoln School provides education and shelter for young Indian children as a way to integrate them into society — in other words, make them act like white kids. The problem is that it is run by a greedy and wicked woman and her dopey husband who does whatever she asks him to do.

Odie O’Banion and his brother Albert are not Native Americans, but find themselves there after both their mother and father died. Odie, in particular, finds it hard to fit in, and pays the price through beatings and solitary confinements. One day, things get out of hand, and he is forced to flee. He convinces his brother and another friend, an Indian boy named Mose, to steal a canoe and make their way down the Minnesota River towards the Mississippi. A young girl named Emmy, whose mother recently died in a tornado, convinces them to take her along so she doesn’t have to live at the school.

They meet many obstacles along the way, and encounter a variety of people — both good and bad — as they try to outrun those who are hunting them.

I love Krueger’s writing. It is lyrical and beautiful and firmly realistic. His characters, too, ring true. Twelve-year-old Odie is the narrator, and while I liked him a great deal, I will say that his dialogue seemed a bit advanced for his age. That didn’t interfere one bit with my enjoyment of the novel.

I found This Tender Land to be a very satisfying read.

Here is a link to the book.