Author Archives: kzmclain

The End of an Era, Or So It Seems

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Today — perhaps even as you read this blog post — the final portion of our remodel project is being completed. We are getting our new carpeting for the bedrooms. The remodel — much of which we’ve done ourselves (and when I say “we” I mean Bill) has been going on since May 2017. Of course, for a several months of that time, we were in AZ. Still, for 13 or more months, we have lived with the sound of pounding and the unending layers of dust on the furniture and grime in the air and the smell of paint and varnish.

There is more we could do, of course. The cupboards in the family room and the kitchen should be replaced. The kitchen lighting needs to be updated. BUT WE’RE DONE. FINISHED.

Throughout the remodel, people kept asking us if we were preparing the house to put it on the market. It’s probably what we should do, since the prices that homes in our neighborhood are selling for are astonishing. But that’s not why we undertook this project. I have said many times before that we have lived in this house 26 years, and for the most part, we have done only a wee bit of updating. It was built in 1972, and much of the home looked like it could have been occupied by The Brady Bunch. All it needed was to hear Electric Light Orchestra playing in the background.

My housing needs are simple. I don’t need expensive furniture or contemporary lighting or bathroom sinks with spigots that look like a waterfall. But we both know that the point at which we will be prepared to sell this house gets nearer all the time. It may be five years from now; it may be 10. But neither of us wanted to be placed in the position where we needed to make some of these updates just to make the house marketable, and not be able to reap the benefits. So we bit the bullet and did all that we felt we should do.

The carpets were left for last. It appears that it will be a simple matter. All we were responsible to do was make sure electronic equipment was disconnected and there was nothing on the closet floors. Boom. Done.

One of the benefits of any remodeling, however, is that it requires you to come face-to-face with all of the extraneous crap that lives in your house. As I went through my closets, I found clothing that not only would only be appropriate at an above-mentioned Electric Light Orchestra concert, but which I wouldn’t ever dream of being able to fit into even if there was a time warp.

And frankly, as I threw away shoes after shoes (all of them too worn out to even give to Goodwill), I felt a sense of freedom. I haven’t seen my bedroom closet floor in a decade. I was even able to finally throw away a pair of slippers that I retrieved from my mom’s closet after she died in the mid-90s, slippers that I never wore even one time because they were too small. Every time I would go to throw them away, I simply couldn’t. But yesterday I heard my mother’s voice in my head telling, “Oh for the love of God, toss them in the trash!”…..

Can you imagine that someone could hang onto caramel colored carpeting for so long?

Our upstairs bathroom currently holds just about everything we previously had in our closets, and more, at least until the end of today…..

On a more pleasant note, I got my Christmas trees decorated this weekend, and Bill put out his train, something he hasn’t done for over five years. Cole will have a lot to say about this train…..

…..and we watched the Broncos beat the Pittsburgh Steelers while eating Court’s homemade turkey noodle soup, made from the carcass of Thursday’s bird.

Best of all, by the end of today, I’m going to not only have beautiful new carpeting, but I will also be done with construction. Hallelujah!

Saturday Smile: Gratitude

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I take my good life for granted, so it’s a good thing that Thanksgiving comes around once a year to remind me of my blessings. We celebrated the day with our family, but missed the ones in Vermont…..

Court and his family were among the Thanksgiving guests…..

Our Thanksgiving table was bountiful, and we all enjoyed the food and the company. Allen takes a break following dinner to prepare for dessert…..

You saw the magnificent pies that Maggie Faith prepared, with just a bit of help from Nana…..

And now that we have officially entered the Christmas season, I have started putting up my trees…..

It has a ways to go, but today is another day.

Have a great weekend.

Friday Book Whimsy: Was the Ending the Same?

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First posted on March 28, 2014

I often say life is too short to read a bad book. And of course, by “bad book” I mean a book I’m not enjoying. There are simply too many books out there that I want to read to spend any time reading something I don’t like. That philosophy has probably caused me to miss out on a lot of books that get better after the first 100 pages. Oh well.

Having said that, it is probably inconsistent to say that I will, however, reread a book. Using the same logic, it would appear life is too short to spend time on a book when you know how it ends. For some reason, that fact doesn’t trouble me at all.

So here is a list of 5 books that not only WOULD I reread, but frequently HAVE….

manhattanbridge01b1. I was between books one evening recently. I finished what I was reading and didn’t want to get up out of bed to download the ebook that the Mesa Public Library had notified me was available. So I went on my Nook’s library and saw with great delight that I had purchased A Tree Grows in Brooklyn by Betty Smith some time ago, a fact I had totally forgotten. It was like running into an old friend, right there in my own bed!

The book is about the Nolan family who lives in the Williamsburg neighborhood of Brooklyn. At the beginning of the book, Francie Nolan is 11 and the story is told primarily through her eyes. The Nolans are poor and struggling, but survive despite obstacle after obstacle, much like the tree that somehow survives in the desolate empty lot Francie sees from her bedroom window. A metaphor. Get it? I probably first read the book when I was 12 or 13, and loved it so much. I have read it many times since, but there’s nothing like the first time you read a good book, is there?

2. I was probably only 8 or 9 when I first read Little Women by Louisa May Alcott. Oh my heavens, did I love that book. I probably read it three or four times just during my adolescence. The first time I read the book, I can’t even begin to tell you how I cried and cried at one particular sad event. I was heartbroken.Annex - Leigh, Janet (Little Women)_01

Little Women is the story of the four March girls, who live quiet lives in New England as their father serves as a chaplain during the Civil War. They are guided lovingly by Marmee – their mother. (I seriously wanted to begin calling my mom Marmee, but knew that wouldn’t fly, even as an 8-year-old.) Each of the girls is very different. I think every girl who reads the book identifies with one of them. I identified with Meg. I wasn’t quite adventurous enough to connect in the same way with Jo. By the way, the story has been made into a movie three times – 1933, 1949, and 1994. The movie made in 1949 is far-and-away the best. The 1994 movie? Susan Sarandon as Marmee? Nooooooooooo!

3. One book that I have read, oh, I don’t know, ten or twelve thousand times is Jane Eyre, by Charlotte Bronte. From the get-go, my heart absolutely broke as I read about poor Jane’s childhood, both as the abused ward of her aunt and then as a

Comb your hair for heaven's sake! What are you, blind?

Comb your hair for heaven’s sake! What are you, blind?

student at the Lowood School. The child couldn’t get a break. Even her beloved friend Helen dies – in Jane’s arms no less. She becomes the governess for little Adele, and – yada yada yada – she and Mr. Rochester live happily ever after (despite the fact that he’s scarred from the fire, bitter, and permanently blinded.

I remember thinking that the book was the most romantic story I had ever read. After all, it isn’t like Jane was some gorgeous woman; she was just a Plain – well – Jane. Still, Mr. Rochester loved her from the very beginning. And oh, the back story! Does it get any better than that?

great plains4. I think that My Antonia was required reading when I was in high school, and I loved it immediately. It helped that the story took place in Nebraska (where my high school was located), and in fact, not even too terribly far from my home town. Willa Cather’s writing is glorious, and I frankly love all of her books. But there was something about Antonia herself that makes it my favorite.

Antonia comes with her family from Bohemia to settle in the Nebraska prairie. The Shimerda family had not been farmers in Bohemia, and have a hard time surviving in this new and terribly hard life in Nebraska. She is befriended by Jim Burton, and their friendship is a critical element of the book. I love the descriptions of the Nebraska prairie, and the development of Antonia through the years. She might be my most beloved character of all books I’ve ever read. Might be. Not committing. For a review I did of this book, click here.

5. There is actually a book I read once a year. At Home in Mitford, by Jan Karon, is the story of an Episcopalian priest who lives in the North Carolina village of Mitford. It’s not exactly accurate to say the story is about Father Tim, though he is the main character. mitfordThe story is about the entangled lives of all of the quirky people who make up this town. They are caricatures, no doubt about it. Still, I love them all and I never get tired of them. But mostly I embrace Father Tim’s absolute love of God and trust in him. I love the way he turns to the Lord in all things. I read the book every year to help me learn to pray. By the way, I read the Karon’s Mitford Christmas book Shepherds Abiding every December as well.

There you have it. There are more, but these five were top of mind.  I didn’t include the Bible, because it goes without saying that it is a part of my life.

Nana’s Note: All these years later, I still agree with my list; however, I would add Plainsong, by Kent Haruf, which is perhaps my favorite book ever.

Thursday Thoughts: Wednesday Edition

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Two Down
Among my contributions to our Thanksgiving table are the pies. While last year we had a cast of thousands at our Thanksgiving table, we are a reasonable number this year. Nevertheless, I am making six pies — three pecan, two pumpkin, and an apple. I will make the pies today at some point, but I made my crusts yesterday. Here’s what I learned about myself: I can make two batches of double pie crusts before I turn stupid. The third required a total dump-into-the-trash-can-and-start-over. My mistakes were ridiculous, with leaving out the shortening being perhaps the dumbest. Furthermore, when I disgustedly stormed outside to our big garbage can and dumped the entire contents into the huge but empty can, I realized that I had also dumped the blade to the food processor into the can. It required a rake to get it out. But the crusts are happily sitting in my freezer from where I will soon remove them and begin pie-making activities. Maggie Faith has promised to help me……

But Then There’s This
Yes, she promised to help me, but her maternal grandmother is looking considerably more fun than I am these days. Over the weekend, Grandma Lynne brought home her new puppy — a Toy Schnauzer they have named Piper. I say they, because the grandkids have full-out taken possession of the dog, up to and including naming rights. They are on Fall Break, and spend every waking minute loving on the dog. And wouldn’t you?…..

Betsy Ross
The past couple of weeks that we spent in Phoenix were not among the most restful we’ve ever had. We had the problem with the cannula inserter. Then, we were hit with awful colds. Making it a trifecta was the fact that Bill ripped the bag he uses to carry his pump as he was getting out of the car. But never fear. Bill-the-Tailor to the rescue. He simply sewed himself another bag…..

On the First Day of Christmas
I am hoping to begin putting out some of my Christmas decorations this afternoon between pies. Yesterday Bill helped me put our evergreen wreaths on the door. Sometime in the next few days, I want to get lights on our bushes outside and both of our trees up and decorated. The best laid plans.

Happy Thanksgiving!

 

Rubber Bands and Chewing Gum

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Bill and I flew back to Denver on Southwest Airlines yesterday. I really like Southwest Airlines. Unlike Frontier, you are allowed two suitcases plus a carry-on bag at no cost. You also can make changes to your flight plans without them requiring you to give them your first-born child. Still, the process to attain a seat assignment is challenging.

If you’ve flown Southwest, you know that you are able to confirm your flight exactly 24 hours in advance of your flight. At that time — and not before that time — you will get your designated place in line. The closer you are to the front of the line, the better your chances of getting a good seat. Of course, you can pay cash money and get a seat assignment, but what’s the fun in that?

Our flight was scheduled to leave yesterday morning at 11:35. So Sunday morning at 11:34, Bill had entered all of our information and had his finger poised just above the button confirming our tickets. He watched the clock on his computer tick down, and the second — THE VERY SECOND — it said 11:35, he pressed the button. We were given the B41 and B42 spots.

HOW DOES THAT HAPPEN?

Anyhoo, we made it to the airport in plenty of time, because we are the opposite of our kids and want to allow time for any kind of delay. We, of course, had no delays. However, somewhere in the neighborhood of 10:30, the Southwest people made an announcement that our plane was going to be delayed by an hour. You had to have the hearing of a superhero to understand what the Quiet Talker was saying over the intercom, but I could understand enough to know that it had to do with the mechanics of the plane. And then, about 15 minutes later, they announced: never mind, the plane (which was in the air on its way from Denver to Phoenix) seems to be fine and we are going to leave on time after all. Hmmmm. Did the pilot have a Swiss Army knife that he used to repair whatever had made them nervous 15 minutes ago? Maybe some duct tape? Chewing gum and a rubber band? I’ll never know, but we made it home safely.

Bill and I are heap big Uber riders. It’s nice to not have to burden our friends or family by asking them to take us to the airport. Because who can say no? I changed most of their diapers. So Uber is the answer. We have had interesting Uber drivers in the past, but the one who drove us to the airport in Phoenix yesterday was one of the more interesting drivers I’ve met.

When in AZ, I always ask the drivers if they live in the East Valley, because Phoenix is SPREAD OUT. Many do not, but he said he did. He lived about 10 miles south of us in a community called Queen Creek. But he went on to tell us that he only drives Uber twice a day for a total of two trips. His office is in one of the West Valley cities. So he will pick up a customer — often going to or from the airport — on his way to and from work. That way he can write off part of his mileage as a business expense, and use the HOV lane to boot!

I asked him how he determines the destination of his passengers since they don’t have that information until they accept the rider. He said that Uber drivers are allowed to designate their destination twice a day, thereby making it more convenient when they are starting out from home and returning later in the day. So he just puts in his office address in the morning and his home address in the evening. He doesn’t always luck out and get a airport passenger, but he always gets someone reasonably on his route.

Now we’re home and today I will move onto Thanksgiving preparations.

The End

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Every once in a while — more often than I would hope — some person or group comes forth with a date certain that the world is going to end. They generally have worked out the date based on the writings of a long-dead philosopher or some numerology statistic or from something gleaned from the Bible.

I hate when I hear those predictions, and I always have. Once a year, the Catholic Church gets us ready for Advent by scaring the hell out of us via a Gospel from Matthew, Mark, Luke, or John that reminds us that the world will end some day. Be prepared, they tell us. Like the fig tree. Like the women with the oil lamps.

I’ve never seen a fig tree and I know I would be one of the women who doesn’t have enough oil for the lamp. Dang.

When I was a little girl, I dreaded that particular Sunday. I recall clearly that I would do one of two things. 1) I would FORCE myself to not listen to either the Gospel or the homilist’s subsequent and inevitable message about end times; or 2) listen to the Gospel and the homily and experience what I now know to be panic attacks. I’m serious. My heart would pound and my breathing would quicken and I would want to cry but wouldn’t. Instead, I would sit closer to my mom.

…..the sun will be darkened, and the moon will not give its light, and the stars will be falling from the sky, and the powers in the heavens will be shaken. – Mark 13: 24-25

This fear followed me well into adulthood. In fact, I was married to Bill when one of the predictions was made. I recall admitting to him that end-of-time predictions scared the hell out of me. I will never forget what he told me.

But of that day or hour, no one knows, neither the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father. – Mark 13:32

That quote, of course, is what Jesus told his friends when he was pointing out to them that humans are only on this earth for a short time, comparatively speaking. But Bill paraphrased Jesus, reminding me that only God knows when the world will end. And God isn’t letting anyone — even his own son — in on the secret.

When you’re a little boy or girl, the end of the world seems impossible and incredibly scary. As you age, the idea of end times — like death — becomes a little less scary because you recognize that you’re not going to get out of the world alive.

So these days, instead of hyperventilating, I am trying to think of ways to make sure that when my days on earth are over, I have a place in heaven. I need to be more generous and less cranky. I want to be kind and less judgmental. I vow to pray more and better. I’m going to deserve heaven.

And I might go find myself a fig tree to keep an eye on.

Saturday Smile: Cry Me a River

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This past week was a good one. I got to spend time with ALL of my siblings, if not necessarily at the same time. Austin and Lilly always make me smile. Yesterday we hired a new maid to help keep our AZ home clean. Meet Hazel….

I got to eat at two of my favorite AZ food establishments: Portillo’s…..

…..and Oregano’s…..

But Jen told me a story yesterday afternoon that made me laugh out loud, and I chuckled most of the afternoon when I would think about it.

The Denver Bronco’s awesome defensive linebacker Von Miller is known for many things. Quarterbacks know him for his tough sacks. Fans know him for his infectious grin. And everyone who knows anything about him knows that he talks trash on the playing field. First-class, get-under-your-opponents’-skin trash. The Broncos play the Los Angeles Chargers on Sunday, and their QB Philip Rivers is known for being vocal on the field. A local sportscaster asked Von this question: Philip Rivers is known for talking trash on the playing field. Do you think this will bother you and get in your head?…..

 

Von gave his characteristic grin and answered, “When Philip Rivers talks trash, he points his finger at me and says, ‘Ha! First down, sucker.’

I guess that’s a step up from nanny nanny boo boo, but it isn’t going to put a dent in Mr. Miller’s game.

Have a good weekend, and go Broncos!

Friday Book Whimsy: Closed Casket

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I vowed I wasn’t going to read any more of the books that continue the story of Agatha Christie’s famous Belgian detective Hercule Poirot. I was enormously disappointed in author Sophie Hannah’s first effort, The Monogram Murders, which I reviewed in 2016. Still, I am such an enormous fan of the Poirot mysteries that I finally caved and read the second in the series — Closed Casket.

Once again, the book features Hercule Poirot along with his sidekick, a Scotland Yard detective Edward Catchpool. Rather than writing it as a sequel — fans will recall that Christie famously killed off the detective in her final installment called Curtain — the series takes place prior to Christies’ books — a prequel of sorts.

In this novel, Poirot and Catchpool are invited to the home of a famous children’s book writer named Lady Athelinda Playford, and neither can figure out why they were included. Perhaps she expects a murder to take place? At least that’s what Poirot speculates.

At dinner, things become a bit clearer. The rich woman announces that she has changed her will to exclude her two grown children, a daughter and a son. This comes as a unfortunate surprise to the two children. They are further shocked to learn that she is leaving her fortune to her secretary. Joseph Scotcher has worked for Lady Playford for a number of years. What is particularly confusing about the change in beneficiary is that Mr. Scotcher has been diagnosed with Bright’s disease and has only weeks to live.

Why oh why would she leave money to a person who she will almost certainly outlive? Before the day is over, he is found dead in the parlor by Scotcher’s fiance who insists she witnesses the daughter beating him to death. However, it is impossible for her to be in two places at once, isn’t it?

Hannah’s second effort was decidedly better than her first. Nevertheless, the bar is set pretty high. The two detectives seem to stumble and bumble more than Poirot ever did under Christie’s pen. Poirot misses clues that even I got.

Still, it’s nice to have my old friend Poirot back, even if he isn’t in his finest form.

Here is a link to the book.

Thursday Thoughts

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Oh, The Weather Outside
We have had lovely weather for the period of time that we have been in AZ. We managed to miss a Colorado snowstorm which is cause for our celebration. There were the predictable posts on Facebook that include photos of snow in their yards and captions indicating the posters’ appreciation of the beauty of snow. Nope. I’m happy that they’re happy, but I find absolutely nothing redeeming about snow. It’s cold. It’s messy. It is difficult to shovel. If I want pretty, I go to my brother’s house and watch a sunset over the desert. But the temperatures the past few days have been highs in the 60s. Arizonans are wearing Uggs. I’m not kidding.

Double Trouble
I’ve said it a million times, but it’s a true story. When you own a home, it’s always something, and when you own two homes, it’s always something times two. Waa waa waa. First world problems, right? But Bill has spent much of his time here the past two weeks in fixing this or that. The door from our garage to our back yard has rotted because of the heavy monsoon rains. This creates gaps in the door which potentially leads to scorpions making their way into our garage. Therefore, IT MUST BE FIXED. Thanks to Bill being Bill, by time we leave, our door will be solid. Another issue that arose is that our outdoor grill won’t light, even using a match. Gas is not getting to the burners. That fix might need to wait until we return in December. In the meantime, I bought some charcoal and lighter fluid, and lit the coals the old-fashioned way. I have said it many times: I love lighting charcoal and drinking an ice-cold martini while waiting for the coals to turn to hot ash. And the smell of steak on a charcoal grill is heaven itself. It simply makes me happy. Even if I have to wear Uggs while cooking my steak…..

We All Scream For Ice Cream
There is a fro yo chain in the valley called Golden Spoon. They either opened one up not far from our house over the summer, or it was already opened and we simply didn’t know about it. It’s called Golden Spoon. It’s very near Mark and Maggie’s new house, and her grands talked Jen into taking them one day. It was love at first taste, and she talked Bill into going one night. I didn’t go because I was in the throes of my cold. However, I wasn’t dead, so I had them bring me back a cup of frozen deliciousness. Bill is hooked. He particularly likes that veterans get a 50% discount. I like that too, because now he always pays the bill…..

And the Winner Is….
We enjoyed watching the CMA Awards show last night, and were very excited that Keith Urban won Entertainer of the Year. We were particularly excited because he actually entertained us in July. Woo hoo.

Ciao.