Author Archives: kzmclain

Saturday Smile: Game On!

Posted in Whimsies by

Game on, and I’m not talking about the World Series.

We are so close to the end of our remodel project that I can see the finish line. The flooring is all laid, and over this weekend and into next week, Austin and Joe (our flooring people, not to be confused with our Pod people) will be doing finish work, sanding, and finally, staining the floors. Talk about making me SMILE!

For the next few days, Bill and I will be wandering like the Israelites in the desert, but for a shorter period of time and with something better than manna to eat. Truly, I’m not entirely sure where we will be and for how long. I think we will spend a day or two in Estes Park to listen to and see the elk bugle. A couple of nights we will be bunking down at a nearby hotel.

At any rate, if you don’t hear from Nana’s Whimsies for a few days early next week, don’t send out the search party. We are somewhere.

Have a great weekend.

Friday Book Whimsy: Cocoa Beach

Posted in Book Reviews by

What comes first, the chicken or the egg? That was the question I asked myself as I read Cocoa Beach, the latest novel from Beatriz Williams.

As with many of the author’s novels, the story is connected in some way to characters in another of her books. It took me a bit to realize that the main character of Cocoa Beach was the sister of one of the main characters in A Certain Age, a novel that I read and liked very much, despite a slow start. As I read this latest book, I found myself wondering if the author wrote these two books in the wrong order, as Cocoa Beach is somewhat of a prequel.

The novel tells the back story of Virginia Fortescue, the sister of Sophie Fortescue of A Certain Age fame. Cocoa Beach is a mystery novel from the get-go. In fact, the very first chapter is an incriminating letter from the man who will become Virginia’s husband, setting the stage for what might have been a really interesting story.

Except that it wasn’t. Instead, it was a confusing back-and-forth story about Virginia during World War I where she works as a driver and first meets Simon and then about Virginia a few years later in the Roaring 20s when she is trying to figure out who is trying to kill her, and why. Is it her husband? Is it his brother? Most of the time I just found myself trying to figure out what year it was and who was doing what. I found it to be most confusing.

The location was new and different for the author. While many of her novels take place in New York City, Cocoa Beach took place in, well, Cocoa Beach, Florida, as well as Miami, Florida.

As Virginia tries to figure out what is going on, she keeps hearing about what is happening back home in New York with her sister Sophie and her father, accused of killing her mother (part of the plot of A Certain Age). It added to the muddle and confusion of the novel.

I must say that the author kept us wondering until the very end just who were the good guys and who were the bad guys. But Williams pulled a trick that I simply loathe: at the very end of the novel, something happens that ensures that there will be a sequel. It frankly was so badly written that I sat and stared at the book for some time, wondering if I had missed something.

I simply didn’t care for this book. I found it entirely too confusing and silly. That’s a hard pill for me to swallow from an author whom I like so much.

Thumbs down on this one.

Here is a link to the book.

 

Thursday Thoughts

Posted in Whimsies by

Pod People
So now this is sitting outside our house on our driveway…..

The hardwood is down on all of the floors. The next step is to get it finished, sanded, and stained. In order to do that, all of our furniture must be off the floor. So we rented a Pod. For two or three days, we have debated whether to hire people from the Pod company (who we found ourselves referring to as Pod People) to move our furniture. They wanted an awfully lot of money to do what we felt was not all that much work. So Bill sent a text to Court yesterday asking him if he would like to earn some money by helping him move furniture. Court responded quickly saying he would be happy to help for no money. He might have later regretted that rash decision, as he and Bill spent a couple of hours moving furniture. Sofas and chairs and tables and more chairs. The most difficult? One sofa we are giving to Habitat that just didn’t want to fit through the door, the china cabinet, and a piece of marble that fits on one of the tables Wilma gave us years ago. It weighed a ton. Perhaps literally. At one point I suggested that since all of our furniture was in the Pod, maybe we should just move. I kill myself…..

Pumpkin Spice and Everything Nice
Just to show you all that despite the fact that I rant on and on against pumpkin spice everything, I made a pumpkin spice cake this week. It was delicious….

More proof that I don’t actually hate pumpkin spice in general. In fact, I like pumpkin cakes and pumpkin pies and pumpkin muffins and pumpkin bread. I just don’t like pumpkin toothpaste (a real thing) ….

Or pumpkin spice Pepto Bismol (another real thing)…..

As I ask myself every fall, what ever happened to good ol’ apple flavor and fragrance in the fall?

Garden Season is Over
As I knew the freeze was coming, I harvested what was left in my garden. I mentioned that I am trying to ripen green tomatoes, but don’t know if I’ll be successful. I also harvested my oregano, my sage, and my thyme. I made little bouquets which are now hanging in my pantry drying…..

Once they are completely dry, I will put them in little jars for the winter.

 Keep or Toss?
It’s interesting going through stuff to see what stays and what goes to Goodwill as we prepare for the rest of the project. For example, as I cleaned out a cupboard in our family room that I thought was only stuffed to the brim with old vases, I came across this…..

 …..and the matching this…..

Here’s the thing: I have no idea where I got them. I used to give an annual Christmas tea, so I think perhaps my ownership is related to that particular event, which no longer takes place. But I’m sure I didn’t buy them. They must have been gifted to me. Everything is very tarnished, but it’s all so pretty. I must admit the candelabra make me feel like a cross between Mortisha Adams and Liberace. Haven’t decided what I’m going to do with those as of yet, but I’m certain I will never use them for their true purpose. Making those kinds of decisions reminds me of a particular episode of The Gilmore Girls in which one of the characters was getting rid of stuff, and to make the decision, she would hold it in her hand and ask herself, “Does this bring me joy?” I will tell you that cleaning the tanish off of the tea and coffee set would bring me no joy. None.

Ciao.

Guest Post: Estes Park-It’s Not Just For Taffy Anymore

Posted in Whimsies by

By Rebecca Borman

I’ve said it before…while it’s really fun to travel to new places, it’s also nice to go back to places you love.  For me and my sisters, one of those comfortable places is Estes Park, Colorado.  The drive through the Big Thompson Canyon is stunning, and the first view of Estes Park, nestled in the midst of the Rockies, always lifts my heart.  In a way, it’s like coming home.  Our family vacationed there when I was a child, my honeymoon was there, and there have been many more visits after that.  This summer, in the midst of my Colorado road trip, my sisters and I worked in a few days’ trip to Estes.  Kris and Jen are busy women, so each could only stay two nights.  But, I was there for three nights, and Friday evening we were there together.  We all made the most of our time…..

Kris and I enjoyed a walk around Bear Lake.

A visit to Estes Park always involves some familiar and important activities.  For instance, the first evening, Kris and I had a cookout at our motel.  And when I say we, I mean Kris.  She brought the steaks, lit the grill, and cooked the steaks.  Well, I did toss the bag of Caesar salad!  We even ate outside at a picnic table by the river, enjoying the view of the mountains surrounding us as the evening set in…..

Another must for us is dinner at the Dunraven Inn, a lovely Italian restaurant that has been in Estes Park for years.  We ate there after Jen arrived on Friday night so we could have dinner together.  I thought it would be fun to take Uber or a cab so we could enjoy our cocktails without worrying about driving back to our motel. I tried Uber…seems there is one driver who may or may not be on duty at any particular time.  Hmmm.  Then I checked for taxi companies.  There is only one, and I mean one cab, not just one company.  We called for our taxi and were put into the driver’s que, third in line.  We made it to the restaurant almost on time.  Our driver assured us that while he was going off duty soon, another driver would be driving the cab.  We asked the Dunraven to call for the taxi as we finished dinner, and we patiently waited for it outside.  We waited quite a while, wondering what we would do if the taxi never showed up.  Finally, we saw it coming toward us.  And driving right past us.  That didn’t seem good!  We hoped he was dropping off someone, and that was the case, because he pulled up a few minutes later.  “I saw you waiting here,” he said.  “I bet you got worried when I drove past.”  Haha, yes we did.

The next morning we tried something new, a trip to Cinnamon’s Bakery, which makes one thing only:  cinnamon rolls.  We got there just before it opened at 7:30, and there was already a long line.  We happily bought our rolls and coffee to take back to our room.  The bakery is open until 10:00 or until they sell out.  When we drove past it around 9:00, the CLOSED sign was on display.  It paid to get there early.

Our next adventure was a drive into Rocky Mountain National Park.  As we started toward the Park we noticed that some streets were blocked off, presumably having to do with the Scottish Festival being held that weekend.  We wondered if there was a parade.  We didn’t think much about it as we enjoyed a drive through some of our favorite areas of RMNP.  When we left the Park we had a plan.  We would find parking near downtown and do some important shopping, primarily for our favorite salt water taffy.  However, police blockades prevented us from turning into town.  We asked a kilted police officer who was directing traffic what was going on.  It was, as we suspected, a parade.  Elkhorn Drive would be blocked completely until the parade was over.  Wait a minute…our motel was on Elkhorn Drive.  “You mean we can’t get back to our motel?” we asked.  “Not until the parade is over.”  Bummer.  Now what?  Plan B was to buy deli sandwiches and go back to RMNP for an impromptu picnic.  We found a good spot by the river and enjoyed our sandwiches al fresco.  It was a good Plan B!….

At that point Kris had to leave, so Jen and I were on our own.  We both wanted to hear the elk bugling at dusk. So after we enjoyed a relaxing afternoon at our motel, we drove back into the Park.  We found a spot near a meadow that seemed to have elk potential, and we weren’t disappointed.  We saw many elk, including a bull with a 16-point rack.  Very cool.  There’s something special about the sound of their bugling and the feel of the crisp fall air as darkness falls upon the mountains.  It was an evening well spent…..

As always, I felt a pang of regret when I drove out of Estes Park the next morning.  I had purchased my taffy and a few Christmas ornaments, and they would serve as my reminders of these few days in one of the most beautiful spots in the world.

I’ll be back again next year.

Fall is Falling and So Are the Trees

Posted in Whimsies by

The weather forecasters warned us that we were going to get our first sizable snowfall yesterday. The day before was really nice, but don’t let that lull you into passivity, they said. Somewhere around midnight it was going to begin snowing.

And, indeed it did…..

We probably got four or five inches of very wet snow, the kind of wet snow that breaks tree branches and powerlines and is good for snowmen as long as you don’t mind that they will be gone by the next morning. Nothing but a puddle of water. Because the weather will be in the 70s again in a day or two. That’s the way autumn snowfalls roll in Colorado.

In preparation for the snow, I picked most of my herbs and set them out to dry. I also picked the remaining tomatoes on my vine, all green as a Granny Smith apple. I put them in a brown paper bag with a banana, and we’ll see what happens.

I went to the grocery store Sunday afternoon in preparation for the snowfall. Oh, I didn’t anticipate a blizzard, but one of the nice things about being retired is that there is almost always nowhere that I MUST go. So I wanted to have something to put into the crock pot so that I could smell it cooking all day long.

I chose a beef brisket…..

I thought there might be one of those predictable pre-snowstorm runs at the grocery store, but there really wasn’t. The shelves held plenty of eggs, and there were abundant packages of toilet tissue available. Why is it that when there is a prediction of heavy snow, the first things to go are eggs and toilet tissue? Do people really regularly only have a few spare squares of toilet tissue in their house all of the time? Because even heavy snows melt within a few days at the most. But I’m as bad as the next person. Even though I probably don’t go through a dozen eggs in a couple of weeks (unless I’ve done a lot of baking), boy, I grab myself some eggs when I do my pre-snowstorm shopping.

So Bill and I were settled down after dinner night before last, peacefully watching Sunday Night Football, when we heard what sounded like an explosion just outside of our family room window. Bill and I looked at each other in shock. For a surprising amount of time, really. I finally said, “What the hell was that?”

We both got up and looked out our door to the back yard, and could see nothing amiss. Yet, we had not imagined the loud noise. Bill went and got a flashlight, and began shining the light all around our patio. And then we saw it….

The wind had blown a tree over onto our yard, hitting our roof and landing on our patio. Interestingly, the snow had not yet started, and while there was a bit of wind, it certainly wasn’t blowing wildly. We quickly decided we should take photos right then and there as we knew the snow was coming and we wouldn’t particularly want to be attempting photography in the snow.

God was good in a couple of ways. First, the tree could just as easily have fallen in the other direction and damaged our neighbor’s brand new roof. We are thankful it fell in our direction because it was our tree. Also, had it been earlier in the day, we might have been sitting out on our patio or working in our yard, and chances are we could have gotten injured. Finally, it seems to have been the full extent our our damage, because there doesn’t seem to be any fallen branches from the snow.

We are just a couple of weeks shy of going to AZ for our fall trip. Couldn’t this cold and snow just have waited a few more weeks?

As I said earlier, that’s the way fall rolls in Colorado. It usually doesn’t hit until Halloween night!

Hands

Posted in Whimsies by

 “Behold the hands, how they promise, conjure, appeal, menace, pray, supplicate, refuse, beckon, interrogate, admire, confess, cringe, instruct, command, mock and what not besides, with a variation and multiplication of variation which makes the tongue envious.” ― Michel de Montaigne

I know next to nothing about plastic surgery. Having prefaced with this caveat, I’m going to go out on a limb and say that while one can tighten up various parts of one’s body, I bet there is very little one can do about the hands. While eyes may be the mirror to the soul, I think hands are the mirror to the heart.

The hands tell the story of us. At least I think so. I think hands can give a clue as to whether or not you do (or did) physically-difficult work for a living. Calluses indicate working with your hands. If nothing but a person’s hands were displayed, I think most people would be able to tell if the hands belong to a teenager, a middle-aged adult, a senior citizen, a man, a woman, a laborer, a person with a desk job. Doctors often look at one’s hands as a way of determining potential illnesses.

And I think if I saw JUST the hands of either my mom or my dad, I would know they belong to my parents. My heart can remember what it felt like to hold their hands.

My grandkids often tell me Nana, you have a lot of veins in your hands. I tell them that when the veins in my hand are prominent, that means I’m dehydrated. I have no idea if that’s true or not, but it sounds possible, doesn’t it?

It satisfies their curiosity. Mostly, however, I think it means that I inherited my mom’s hands. I remember her hands looking just like mine.

But she had something I don’t think I have. When she held your hand, you could feel her strength and her love. I know that sounds overly-romanticized, but it is true. Her hands were strong, and she used them to show her love. Look at her hands in these photos…..

Look at everybody’s hands in this photo. Lots of expressions of love…..

Now, my dad’s hands really did show his physical strength. As a baker, he needed strong hands to work the heavy equipment. But he also needed hands that could be gentle and graceful, because remember that he was also a musician. He used his hands to play the clarinet and the saxophone. You could tell he had arthritis by looking at his fingers, but he continued to be strong until he died…..

His hands were so beautiful and told his story so well that later in his life, an artist was so taken with them that she asked to do a pencil drawing of him, featuring his lovely hands. The picture hangs on all of his kids walls somewhere in their house…..

I don’t know if Court or any of my grandkids will remember the way my hands looked or felt long after I’m gone, but it wouldn’t surprise me. And certainly the arthritis that plagued both my mom and dad plague me as well. But all of that makes our hands what they are — a mirror to our heart.

This post linked to the GRAND Social

Saturday Smile: Twister

Posted in Whimsies by

Kaiya helped me make an apple crisp the other day. As usual, I wanted to take a picture of our masterpiece. So I asked Kaiya to pose with the apple treat since she contributed……

 

It sort of hurts just to look at it, doesn’t it? I’m entering her on next season’s America’s Got Talent in the contortionist category.

Have a great weekend.

Friday Book Whimsy: A Gentleman in Moscow

Posted in Book Reviews by

Since its publication in 2016, and into 2017, A Gentleman in Moscow, by Amor Towles, kept coming up as a book I MUST read. The best book of 2016, they said. One reviewer said A Gentleman in Moscow was her best book EVER.

After a long wait at the library, I finally got the book, and dove in. It’s not that I was disappointed; I just was a bit underwhelmed. Don’t hate me All of You Book Reviewers Who Loved This Novel. Just recognize that I’m not nearly as sophisticated as you.

Towles wrote a book called Rules of Civility published back in 2011. I read that book and liked it, but recall that it took me a very long time to get into the story. So when I found myself having trouble getting into this novel, I didn’t get discouraged. It helped that Towles’ writing is truly beautiful and elegant. It fit the story perfectly.

A Gentleman in Moscow tells the story of Count Alexander Rostov, a Russian aristocrat from a long line of Russian aristocrats. The story begins in 1922, when Count Rostov is tried by a Bolshevik court for being an aristocrat. Communism, you see. He is placed under house arrest at the Metropol Hotel, a real-life historic hotel in Moscow. He must live out the rest of his days within the confines of this elegant hotel. He has pretty much the run of the hotel. He can eat in the dining room; he can get his hair cut at the fancy barber; he can drink cognac at the bar. He just can’t leave the hotel.

The years pass, and the count has a series of relationships that are funny and poignant and interesting. Of particular note is a close friendship he develops with a young girl who lives with her parents in the same hotel. She provides him with not only friendship, but with a quirky outlook that is welcome given the fact that he can’t even go outdoors.

The book is really a series of vignettes. The writing, as I stated above, is eloquent, and fits nicely with the beautiful art deco hotel and the roaring twenties. The book follows the count throughout the next few decades into the 1950s and the Cold War.

Really, nothing much happens. Perhaps I was just at a time in my life when I needed a bit more action. I really did like the author’s writing, and Count Rostov was a likeable character, but I simply found myself skimming a lot of the chapters. I also found myself wondering if the leaders of the Communist party, particularly that close to the overthrow and murder of Tsar Nicholas II and his family, would really have allowed an aristocrat like Count Rostov to live such an unfettered life. It just didn’t seem realistic to me.

I’m definitely in the minority, at least when it comes to the reviews I’ve read. The book has been highly regarded.

Recommended for those interested in beautiful writing and less interested in a fast-paced story.

Here is a link to the book.

Thursday Thoughts

Posted in Whimsies by

The Race is On
Last night the Arizona Diamondbacks played the Colorado Rockies in a Wild Card game, winner moving to the regular playoffs. Not being particularly a baseball fan, I didn’t watch the game. I’m sure my brother did and Bill watched some of the game. I was hoping for a Rockies victory, though I like the Diamondbacks as well. The Diamondbacks won the game. Each year as we enter the October baseball season and get closer and closer to the World Series, I always think of my dad and how much he loved the Colorado Rockies. In 2007, the Rockies won the pennant and then went on to lose to the Boston Red Sox in the World Series. But Dad and Shirley were able to go to one of the World Series home games at Coors Field. It took some strategy and finesse to get them from Fort Collins to the game, but eventually Jen and I managed to walk them to the gate and wave goodbye, as Shirley pushed him into the ballpark in his wheelchair. The Rockies lost that game, but both Dad and Shirley had such a good time. I’m glad he was able to see a World Series game, and I hope that he watched the game last night from heaven (though he might have had other plans).

It’s Beginning to Sound a Lot Like Christmas
Bec texted me yesterday morning to tell me that she turned on her radio yesterday morning to hear her favorite country music station playing Christmas music. She is a lover of Christmas music, but nevertheless, she was stunned to hear holiday tunes on October 4. Thinking it might have been just an accident, she kept listening. Nope, the station is apparently beginning its run of holiday music early. I’m not sure how I feel about that. I sort of wish we could at least get through Halloween before listening to I Want a Hippopotamus for Christmas.

What I Want for Christmas is the Remodel to Be Finished
Seriously, if you would have told me in the middle of May when the remodel began that I would still be listening to pounding on October 5, I would have cried. But Bill is almost finished. He embarked last week on the very last room in which he will install hardwood floors. The process for all of the rooms has been that he pulled up the carpet, pull up the press board, layed down new plywood, and finally nailed in the hardwood. He has done the family room, the stairway, and the hallway upstairs. As you read this, he is probably nailing the hardwood down into the living room. And yes, even if you read this blog at 6 in the morning. Once the flooring is down, we will have a professional flooring company finish up the sanding and staining. I’m keeping my fingers crossed that the job will be complete before company arrives for Thanksgiving! The best news (and I hope I’m not jinxing anything by telling you this) is that he has done the entire job without serious injury……

Movie Comfort
I managed to talk Bill into taking a break on Tuesday, and we went to the movies. We saw American Made with Tom Cruise. We both really liked it, and thought Cruise did a great job. My takeaway was more about our experience, however. I’m telling you man, I love those reclining seats. Just imaging if those poor people that watched Gone With the Wind when it first came out could have had reclining seats for all three-and-a-half hours of watching enjoyment.

Ciao.

Are You Sitting Here?

Posted in Whimsies by

I’m in a fight with Target. Believe me, that doesn’t happen too often. And my fight has nothing to do with their bathrooms.

It has to do with their toddler car seats.

You may be wondering why a 63 year old woman is interested in car seats. Well, again, maybe you aren’t wondering since the name of my blog is Nana’s Whimsies. And being a nana involves more than making slime. It often involves giving rides to one or more of the grandkids.

Cole is 3, and he’s our youngest. He’s surprisingly tall for his age, but still requires a car seat, and will until he’s 4, at which time (I think) he can move into a booster seat. So for the past few months – all summer long, really – I have been squeezing him into my existing toddler car seat. That seat has been involved in the lives of eight previous grandkids. C’mon, just one more to go, I thought each time I struggled to get him into the seat.

I finally threw in the towel a few weeks ago when I took Kaiya, Mylee, and Cole to see a movie. Getting the carseat completely buckled over the squirming boy was nigh on impossible. Given that the theater was only a quarter mile from our house, I finally made do with only having one of the buckles fastened.  But I vowed that it was the end of the line. Time for a new car seat.

So I began researching car seats. Heavens, one can spend a small fortune on a car seat. Given that he’s the youngest, coupled with the fact that we will leave in a short time for our winter in AZ and when we get home he will be 4, I didn’t want to spend a fortune, no matter how small. But I wanted something that got good reviews and safety ratings with which I was comfortable.

I finally narrowed it down to a specific car seat that was sold at Target and didn’t require me to sell my plasma to afford it. Target.com told me that the store that is literally a half mile from our house had two in stock.

First thing yesterday morning, I drove to Target and made my way back to the baby supplies. I quickly found the model I had selected, but couldn’t find one in the box. I found every single OTHER car seat in its box, but not the carseat I sought.

With a minimum of fuss, I was able to get a Target staff person, who helped me look but was also unsuccessful. She checked the back room, also to no avail. However, she kindly assured me that another Target that was further away had two in stock.

So I made the trip to the second Target, and I won’t bore you with details. Suffice it to say that they also had one on display but none available to buy. But the staff person also couldn’t have been nicer, and promised me that a particular OTHER Target had a couple of the carseats in stock.

Now, as the saying goes, I might have been born during the day, but I wasn’t born yesterday. So this time, I called. Or perhaps I should say I TRIED to call. Because despite several attempts, I got cut off just at the point that I was going to get a live person who could tell me whether or not they had the car seat in stock.

I was pretty frustrated, and about to give up except that I kept envisioning poor Cole nearly busting out of the car seat and me wrestling the seat like Hulk Hogan fighting Andre the Giant. With renewed vigor, I drove to the Target in question and found the car seat in question.

And then, lo, and behold, decided on another one instead. One which they may well have had at the original Target. No matter, because I’m giving Target a reprieve. After all, my alternative is Walmart, and you all know how much fun that trip is.

Sorry for all the car seat drama, Nana.