Now that it’s finally warming up, Bill and I have been able to sit outside in the evening for our “cocktail party.” We have seen a few pretty sunsets, but the one last night was spectacular……
View from our AZ backyard.
It topped a great week, a week in which my sister Bec got wonderful health news and my great-niece Lilly celebrated her fifth birthday…..
Have a great weekend.
I’ll be honest with you; lately I’ve read so many of these mysteries featuring high-society lady detectives that they’re all starting to run together. Murder at Archly Manor, the first in what’s called the High Society Lady Detective series by author Sara Rosett, while not quite Agatha Christie material, was a fun romp with high society in 1920s England.
Olive Belgrade is a solid member of the aristocratic class in London, but that doesn’t mean she’s rich. In fact, she is barely making ends meet, and is finding job-hunting to be unsuccessful. While visiting relatives, she learns that her cousin Violet is newly engaged to a man that nobody trusts. There is too much about his background that is vague. This leads to that, and Olive is hired by her aunt to look into Alfred’s background.
To this end, Olive attends a weekend party given by an aristocrat who actually IS rich. Unfortunately, before Olive can find out too much, Alfred is killed. Olive sets out to find the murderer.
First novels are always hit-or-miss. The reader needs to learn a lot about the characters. Rosett does a good job of introducing us to Olive and her friends, making them likable and mostly believable.
I found Murder at Archly Manor to be a good cozy mystery, and I am looking forward to reading the next book in the series.
Don’t You Have a Credit Card Like Everyone Else?
The other day Bill and I went to Fuddrucker’s for dinner. It is one of my favorite hamburger joints. You order from a cashier, and then choose your table. Your buzzer goes off when your food is ready. Bill paid while I chose our seat. He was up there a long time, and I could see that the cashier had called in a manager for assistance. What on earth? I wondered. When he finally came to our table, he was laughing. “I paid in cash, and the cashier had trouble making the change,” he said. “She had to call in someone to help her figure it out.” Here’s the thing: He gave her $30 cash. The bill was $24.92. At the risk of sounding 95 years old, what’s the matter with the durn kids these days? I’m pretty sure my 6-year-old grandson Micah could have figured that one out.
Read Anything Good Lately?
I’m reading A Tree Grows in Brooklyn for, I don’t know, maybe the seventh or eighth time in my life. But it’s been a long time since I read it last. As I’m reading, I’m wondering which one of my grandkids would enjoy it the most. After careful consideration (since, as you can see, a large number of my grandkids like to read)…..
Dagny is snuggled up in the weighted blanket we gave her for Christmas and enjoying a book.
…..I decided Kaiya would be the one who would most enjoy a novel such as Betty Smith’s classic coming-of-age story. The other readers lean towards fantasy novels. Unfortunately, I think that Kaiya is still a bit too young for some of the parts of the book. Another year or two perhaps.
The other day, I made a visit to the Power Road Farmers’ Market. I’ve driven past it numerous times, but I have never stopped to see what they sell. One of the many nice things about wintering in AZ is that there are local fruits and vegetables this early in the year. In particular, there are lots of citrus fruits available to purchase (or steal from a neighbor’s tree).
The limes, lemons, and grapefruit are local; the tangelos are not. I found lots to buy at the farmers’ market, and was able to shop for a good half hour before Bill started making “are you almost finished” noises…..
Nothing Makes Me Happier…..
I thought of a couple more simple things that make me happy. Nothing makes me happier than getting involved in a book that you can’t put down. Like A Tree Grows in Brooklyn. And nothing makes me happier than going to a restaurant that includes Diet Fanta Orange soda! Let’s hear it for those big red Coca-Cola soda machines.
Ciao.
When I started writing this blog, I didn’t want to be pinned down to one particular subject matter. I didn’t want to restrict myself to a cooking blog because I’m frankly not that great a cook. The idea of a fashion blog was and is a laughable notion because I never have been a fashion plate. You can probably count on two hands the number of times that I have worn high heels, and now that I’m retired, I’m almost always wearing leggings and a sweat shirt or t-shirt. I put on a pair of black pants — the same black pants — and one of my few nice shirts or blouses every Sunday for church. When I get home, I change into leggings and a sweat shirt. And a political blog? HA!
I’m prefacing this post with the above information to let you know that Nana’s Whimsies is absolutely not going to weigh in on the subjects of border security, security walls, or government shutdowns. Not going to happen.
What I want to talk about is what Luke Bryant says in the song that I can no longer listen to because it gets so stuck in my head: Most people are good. When I first heard that song, I thought to myself, “Is that really true? Are most people really good? Because it seems like I hear a lot about bad people.”
My sister Bec posted something on Facebook a few days ago that caught my eye. It was something she received from Estes Park News. You might recall (or simply KNOW) that Estes Park is the small Colorado town right outside of Rocky Mountain National Park. It is so small, in fact, that there is no place besides the local hardware store to buy ladies’ underwear. Believe me; I know this to be true. But Estes Park relies heavily on visitors to Rocky Mountain National Park, so the government shutdown is directly affecting even this small mountain village.
The article starts out saying People and businesses of Estes Park and our surrounding areas are reaching out to help the furloughed federal employees. Here is a list to help those in need.
The list was compiled by a nonprofit called Flinch Forward, which is a military veteran and first responder group that provides help to local communities as necessary. The list includes such things as the Town of Estes Park waiving penalties and service disconnects on unpaid water and/or electric bills starting in December and ending one month after the furlough ends; an internet provider called Airbits offering free internet to affected government employees for the length of the furlough; Alpine Bank providing interest-free personal loans equal to a worker’s monthly pay. Even cultural facilities got into the spirit: Denver Art Museum, Four Mile Historic Park, and the Denver Museum of Nature and Science are all providing free admission to furloughed employees.
The list goes on and on. My takeaway, however, is that at the end of the day, as divisive as we have become, when people are in trouble, Americans put aside their differences and dig in to help. Yes, corporate greed exists, but no matter their reasons, even corporations are providing helping hands.
If only we could be so full of grace when there isn’t a crisis.
Bec and I at Bear Lake in Rocky Mountain National Park in the good ol’ days when it was open for business!
The other morning I got up around 6. I started a pot of coffee brewing, as I do each morning. I posted my blog and checked my email for advertisements from everyone with whom I’ve ever done business, and Facebook to make sure the liberals still hate the conservatives and the conservatives still hate the liberals. I then went back to the kitchen to pour myself a cup of coffee.
As I began pouring the coffee into my cup, I thought to myself nothing makes me happier than pouring that first cup of coffee in the morning.
And then I stopped (not the pouring but the thought). Was that really true? Does absolutely NOTHING make me happier than that first cup of coffee? Wouldn’t hearing that a mysterious person had paid off all of my kids’ debts make me happier? What about hearing that every leader in the world had agreed to give up nuclear weapons and come together in peace; wouldn’t that make me happier? Or how about turning on the news and learning that a brilliant scientist had come up with a cure for Parkinson’s? Yep, happier.
So it’s hyperbole, plain and simple. Still, isn’t it really the small things in life that make a person happy? Because countries aren’t going to give up nuclear weapons. And maybe someone will find a cure for Parkinson’s, but not any time soon, I suspect.
Which got me to thinking about what little things make me the happiest. Here are some of the things that came to mind:
Nothing makes me happier than receiving an unsolicited and unexpected hug from my son Court. He isn’t particularly demonstrative. So an unexpected hug makes my heart soar.
Nothing makes me happier than to see my grandkids playing on our big cement patio in exactly the way I imagined when we had it put in 15 years ago.
Nothing makes me happier than making beautiful food for people I love.
Nothing makes me happier than the smell of a real charcoal grill, and the enjoyment of drinking an ice cold martini as the coals turn to ash.
Nothing makes me happier than that our kids have all found such wonderful life partners.
Nothing makes me happier than to see the days getting longer and warmer, especially when the flowers start to bloom, both in AZ and Denver.
Nothing makes me happier than when I — having been awake for awhile — hear Bill moving in the bedroom because I know in a few minutes he will come out and my REAL day begins.
Nothing makes me happier than time with my best friend.
I could go on and on, never running out of things that make me happy. But given that world peace and cures for difficult diseases aren’t in my immediate future, I must say, with all honesty, nothing makes me happier than when ALL of my grandkids are gathered together in one place, playing with one another. The sound of their laughter is like music.
Now that’s happy.
Fifteen years ago or so, a friend of mine got married in a Catholic ceremony that included a Mass. The Catholic Mass includes four bible readings — an Old Testament reading, an epistle (usually one of St. Paul’s letters), a psalm, and a gospel. For a wedding, the bride and groom select the readings from those approved for a wedding Mass by the Powers That Be within the Catholic Church. One of the choices for the gospel is St. John’s telling of Jesus’s first miracle at the wedding feast in Cana.
“I would never EVER choose that reading,” my friend said, who was looking to me to help her make her selection. “I hate the way Jesus calls his mother Woman.”
Woman, how does your concern affect me? My hour has not yet come. — John, 2:4
While I must admit that hearing Jesus refer to his mother as Woman always grated on my nerves (and I, too, selected a different gospel reading for my own wedding), I figured that when Jesus called his mother Woman, he was not trying to be mean and macho; instead, I figured it was the translation of Greek into English that caused our consternation. Apparently, I was correct. In New Testament Greek, Woman was the word used to mean Dear One.
Jesus was both human and divine. From the gospels and the letters of St. Paul, we know quite a bit about divine Jesus, the son of God. We know almost nothing about Jesus the Human, and absolutely nothing about Jesus the Human after around age 12 until he was 30. I have always been so intrigued about Jesus the Human. In fact, should I ever be blessed enough to make it to the Pearly Gates, I want to request a brief meeting with God to find out why the secrecy.
Anyway, because of this, two things have always struck me about that gospel. More than reading about Christ’s first miracle in which he turned water into the most delicious wine ever (think Chateau de Beaucastel Hommage Jacques Perrin Chateauneuf-du-Pape), I was always pleased that though Jesus was not yet ready to go public, he OBEYED HIS MOTHER. What’s more, she full-well knew he would. That’s why despite his push-back (after which she must have thought, “we’ll have a conversation about that a bit later.”), she immediately went to the waiters and told them to do whatever her son tells them to do, no matter how stupid it seems. They do, and the rest is history.
But here’s my second reaction: Jesus knew what lay ahead for him. And the gospels about his prayers in the Garden of Gethsemane demonstrate that he was really scared about what he was about to face, and for good reason.
He had to be terrified not only about his imminent torture and death, but also about what was to come that would eventually save us all from sin. Not just the final few days, but the days and weeks and months and years of preaching and listening to people complain and receiving adulation and being ridiculed and wearing out sandals from walking and enduring doubt and betrayal by his friends.
Because of this, I can’t help but think that Jesus’s reaction to his mother’s request was in part his reluctance and fear about the future, and his desire to put it all off for as long as he could. Up until the time that he performed that miracle he was leading a life of quiet anonymity with his mother, and now, that was about to change.
My hour has not yet come. Please Mom, don’t make me begin my mission yet.
This post linked to the GRAND Social
After a fairly chilly few weeks, it is finally starting to warm up here in AZ. The daytime temperatures are in the mid- to high-60s, if not the low 70s, and the nighttime temperatures are no longer in the 32 degree range. I have put away the heavy blanket at night. I’m truly sorry that our friends and family are shoveling snow in Colorado, but I must admit it was fun to send this photo to friends of ours who also live in Colorado, but have a house in AZ. They have not yet arrived in the Valley of the Sun.
Enjoy shoveling your snow, we told him when we texted this photo of Bill as we sat outside and enjoyed the warm evening as we grilled steaks…..
Not to worry; it will be springtime in the Rockies before you know it!
Have a great weekend.
There are two era’s in which books take place that will suck me in every time, particularly if it is a murder mystery: a) I love the 1920s, just after WWI, when fun is the name of the game, and thoughts have not yet turned to the possibility of WWII; and b) the late 1800s in New York City, set among the Vanderbilts and the Roosevelts and the Astors. There is just something I find so romantic about that era, despite the fact that women were definitely considered second rate citizens.
A new series by author Rosemary Simpson features a strong-willed woman who lives in one of the famous Fifth Avenue mansions. The night of the real-life Great Blizzard of 1888, Prudence MacKenzie awaits the arrival of her fiance Charles, who must travel through the blizzard to see her. He never arrives, and is later found dead. She soon learns that though her father left her all of his money upon his recent death, the will declares that in order to receive the money, she must be married to Charles so he can manage her fortune. Otherwise, the money goes to her father’s young second wife. Prudence suspects foul play when Charles is found dead and buried under snow with an Ace of Spades in his hand.
Soon, Charles’ long-time friend Geoffrey Hunter, a former Pinkerton agent, shows up. He not only knows the meaning of the playing card, but suspects, as does Prudence, that there is something sinister about her father’s young wife and her dispicable brother.
I liked the character of Prudence, because despite living during a time when women really did have no power, she used her wits and her money to her advantage. Her evil stepmother tries to control Prudence by keeping her under the influence of laudanum, and I found that prequel to today’s drug problems interesting.
A new Prudence MacKenzie novel has just been released, and I am looking forward to reading it.
You’re Getting Old When….
The other day Bill and I did some errands outside the house. I honestly can’t remember where all we went, but I know our errands involved getting out of the car and going into a place of business. When we got home, I went immediately to my closet to take off my shoes and put on my slippers. Oops. The task went faster than I anticipated, because I looked down at my feet and noticed I had worn my slippers out as we did our errands. I’m always looking at ways to save time. Maybe no one noticed?…..
Up, Up, and Away
When Bill bought his first drone, I was entirely puzzled. What would be fun about flying something like that around your back yard? A couple of years later, when he bought his second, slightly larger drone, I thought, well, he must want something a little sturdier with which to play, er, practice his flying skills. But the other day, when an even larger drone showed up on our front doorstep, it took every ounce of my being to keep my mouth shut. After all, he never says a word when I come home with $100 worth of yarn or a new kitchen utensil. I’m pretty sure the next stop is a real-sized helicopter…..
Just how much fun can one man have?
Does It Hurt When I Do This?
You might remember that I have been complaining about knee pain. Actually, it is pain BEHIND my right knee. I have been dealing with it since the beginning of December. I went to my primary care doctor’s office in Denver before we headed here to AZ. The P.A. diagnosed it as a Baker’s Cyst, and told me that it would eventually go away. It didn’t. So I went to a primary care doctor here in AZ. He told me it wasn’t a Baker’s Cyst; instead, he thought it was a meniscus tear, and he sent me to get an x-ray. I later learned that an x-ray wouldn’t show a meniscus tear because it’s not bone. The x-ray came back showing, however, that I had no arthritis in my knee. Good news, but the pain didn’t go away. My knee felt a bit better, but some pain was still present. So I went to an orthopedic surgeon’s office and saw an orthopedic P.A., who took a look at the x-ray and said, “You have a great-looking knee for someone in your age group.” He really did say that, but assured me he was talking about the inside of my knee and not the outside. He told me he didn’t think it was either a Baker’s Cyst or a meniscus tear. In fact, he pretty much told me he hasn’t the slightest idea about what is causing my pain, and offered the option of getting a steroid shot, involving a really long needle. Bottom line, I have no idea what is causing my pain, but I’m hoping it just goes away. Needles are not my friends. Many, many cumulative years of education, and that’s what I end up with!
Sunrise, Sunset
We went to our niece Maggie’s house for dinner last night. They moved into their new house late last year. The house is lovely, and one of the really nice things it has going for it is a western view, all the better to enjoy really magnificent sunsets. Like this one, for instance…..
Ciao.
Every morning when I open up my Facebook app, I am greeted mostly by a variety of ads. That’s okay. I like to learn what’s out there that I will never buy. But the greeting that I most look forward to — and it’s there every morning as reliably as the mockingbirds’ song when the sun comes up — is from Amazon.
Somewhere around Christmas, Amazon decided that I like really unusual — no, actually goofy — accoutrements for my house. Of course, the fact that they suck me in each time and I click to see what it is they are trying to sell me only serves to make them continue to offer me increasingly goofy items.
I started putting the most ridiculous offerings into my cart so I can show them to Bill, and man! does Amazon love that. My favorite thus far has been the Glow Bowl Motion-Activated Toilet Nightlight, a light that fits around your toilet bowl, and lights it up (in a choice of six or seven colors, with the option to change color every four seconds), thereby allowing the toilet user to, I don’t know, not miss the toilet when sitting down? Be startled into not being able to go back to sleep? Wish your toilet bowl wasn’t neon?
I was also drawn to the pair of rechargeable automatic salt and pepper grinders which will take away that onerous task of manually grinding your peppercorns and salt crystals. And then there is the warming serrated butter knife that allows you to easily cut ice-cold butter. Since Amazon tells me it is frequently sold along with the warming ice cream scoop that I never, ever, not one time, thought made the job of scooping ice cream any easier, I am not holding my breath on the butter cutter.
I love Amazon for all the reasons that you all love Amazon. I can order (and have ordered) anything ranging from Duke’s Mayonnaise to medical gloves and there it is on my doorstep two days later. I don’t even have to walk the half a block to CVS pharmacy to buy medical gloves from a human.
I envision a big room full of really smart people somewhere in Seattle trying to come up with new and even more creative ideas to keep us robotically coming back to Amazon. And they have hit on a new bright idea.
It’s called the Treasure Truck. And I’m invited to join.
From what I can tell, in about a dozen cities around these United States, participants will receive surprise notices about things popular among Amazon users that are on sale Today Only. If you are interested, you go find the truck and purchase the item.
This is direct from their website…..
It sounds as though the truck is on the move, doesn’t it? Does this mean I have to follow the truck until it pulls over? Do I pull up next to it and make hand motions? So many questions!
But they got me, ladies and gentlemen. I have signed up for what I hope is a free program.
Stay tuned, and watch for a brightly colored truck cruising your neighborhoods. And a little yellow bug following it.
Nana's Whimsies 