Category Archives: Whimsies

Thursday Thoughts

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They Say It’s Your Birthday
Today is my sister Jen’s 60th birthday. On my 60th birthday, she and Jll put together an extravaganza that included two personal chefs coming in and preparing me and mine a fabulous dinner that included cooking lessons. I can’t say I’m doing anything near that much fun for Jen; however, Bec (who will soon be leaving to return to sunny AZ) and I have put together quite a nice meal plan for tonight. You might remember that her daughter Maggie surprised her with a party for all of her friends back in July. You certainly can’t forget this…..

I wish her the happiest of birthdays, and am so very glad she is my sister, no matter her age.

Falling
Sunday was the big day of Dagny’s climb. I will be telling you all about it next week, as it was an extraordinary experience. What I will tell you today, however, is that while Bill and I had the best of intentions to be at the foot of the Third Flatiron when she set off on her climb, we didn’t make it. We nearly did. We probably made it 2/3 of the way. But towards the end, the climb went from a rocky dirt path to a dirty rock path. The rocks were treacherous, causing Bill to fall when the rocks moved under his feet. It could have easily been me. Thankfully he wasn’t seriously hurt. Nevertheless, he damaged his hand to the point where it might have been mistaken for ground meat. Well, I might be exaggerating just a tad. Anyway, I called Jll (because oddly and luckily, we had full cell service) who was at the base of the flatiron to tell her that we were going to head back down. She kindly came down to give us the car keys so that we could treat his hand with the first aid kit that anyone with a family of four kids likely carries in their car.

Aging
But speaking of climbing, I had done quite a bit of worrying about my ability to make that climb, because of my sore hip. I’m pleased to say that my hip didn’t give me much problem at all. Though I’m quite out of shape, I am also pleased to say that I did a pretty darn good job on the hike up until the time that I stopped doing a pretty darn good job. My main issue, however, was that my feet hurt. I was reminded that aging is quite humbling. I could have been in the best shape possible, and my bunion would still have hurt my feet, making the hike uncomfortable. Still, I have hope that with the right shoes, hiking might still be in my future.

Cheated
During the many hours that we waited for Dagny and her pals to finish their climb, we (Dave, Jll, Alastair, Bill and I) looked for ways to kill time. Jll and Alastair tried a game of War that quickly fizzled out (as games of War tend to do); a couple of people tried Solitaire; I found a trivia game that quickly bored us to tears. Suddenly, we all heard the familiar tune of the ice cream truck entering the parking lot of Chautauqua Park. Yay. A sweet treat and a way to fight some of the boredom, at least for Alastair and Papa Bill. When the two returned with their sweets, Alastair was happily eating an ice cream sandwich. Bill looked much more disgruntled. He’d asked for a chocolate covered ice cream bar, but got this instead……

The sneer says it all.

Ciao.

Stayin’ Alive

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One of the best things about being a public employee retiree in Colorado is that PERA provides a free membership to Silver Sneakers. If you’re not a senior citizen like me, you might not know about this program which offers free membership to thousands of gyms around the country for (as they describe it) baby boomers and beyond. Quite frankly, I’m not sure there’s really a “beyond” from baby boomers, but I’m not their marketing director. The bottom line, however, is that Silver Sneakers is the second best thing about growing old. The first, of course, is what used to be the $10 lifetime National Parks pass that was available to people 62 and older. That price has now increased to $80. Still a smokin’ deal, but not as smokin’ as $10.

As a result of my Silver Sneakers membership, I belong to not one, but two gyms. Two, because there are no LA Fitnesses in Denver and there are no 24 Hour Fitnesses in AZ. So I belong to both. And Silver Sneakers pays for both of my memberships. Sheer awesomeness.

Except, of course, that right now I’m using neither gym because of my self-diagnosed bursitis.  Not only am I unable to exercise right now, but I have a condition that makes me feel like Granny Clampett. By the way, please don’t tell Silver Sneakers that their membership fee is currently going to waste because I promise I’m going to go back just as soon as I’m no longer Granny Clampett.

As a result of my membership, I get a regular email from Silver Sneakers that provides interesting and pertinent information to people of my generation. A recent email, for example, offered suggestions on how to strengthen your thighs – not to look better (that ship has sailed) but to make it more likely that you won’t break a femur bone or be unable to pick up your 3-year-old grandson who is in the 97th percentile for height and weight. Just sayin’…..

The email I received yesterday was entitled Things People Who Feel Half Their Age Do Every Week. I would like to feel half my age, I thought. Plus, it looked more interesting than the following article entitled What to Eat Before and After a Cardio Workout, because I’m pretty sure it wasn’t Dunkin Donuts.

Here were a few of their suggestions, and how I plan on incorporating them into my everyday life:

  1. Hang Out with Older and Younger Crowds
    Silver Sneakers suggest that by hanging out with only people of your age, you will only do people-of-your-age activities. People at least a decade older will expose you to their wisdom and to different attitudes. Like crabbiness. Because it sure seems that the majority of folks I see in the grocery store who have come off of the retirement center bus are grouchy and WILL HIT YOU WITH THEIR GROCERY CART IF YOU GET IN THEIR WAY. I will stick to hanging out with Bill (who I am always quick to point out is 11 years my senior. And not crabby. As for younger crowds, I have grandkids ranging in age from 3 to 14. They count. Don’t tell me they don’t.
  2. Embrace Newness and Change
    Now, newness and change are all well and good, but the reality is if I change up anything very much, I will never remember where I put it/how to do it/what it’s for. Silver Sneakers says that when we change things in our lives, our brains rewire themselves, making them form new synapses, which is apparently a good thing. So I am committed to changing my gin martini to a vodka martini every other day. I might even substitute a lemon twist for the olive. Keep firing, Synapses!
  3. Move as Much as You Can
    Everything counts, according to Silver Sneakers. So I will keep my gin in my closet upstairs and my vodka in my storage room downstairs. Not only will this require me to walk stairs, but I will have to remember which place I put which liquor bottle, thereby making my synapses fire even more. Neighbors might even call the fire department.
  4. Never Consider Yourself Old
    Okay. I’m not considering myself old. My kids and my grandkids, however, think I’ve got one foot in the grave. They have the retirement home on speed dial.

There were plenty of other suggestions, and in all seriousness, they are pretty good ideas. And they are ideas that I really do try to incorporate into my life. Laughing, keeping busy, having fun are great goals for baby boomers and beyond. Whatever that means.

Unlikely Shopping

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I always tell people I grew up in a small town in Nebraska. The truth is (and I actually checked the figures on the internet, so you know it’s right) that when I was born in 1953, there were probably close to 10,000 people living in the Midwestern town of Columbus. When I left for college in 1972, there were over 15,000 happy Columbus residents. Well, I don’t know if all 15,000 were happy. I’m overthinking….

Size is relative, my friends. I continue to maintain I lived in a small town. Still, that town had a J.C. Penney store, a Montgomery Wards, a couple of dime stores, a great drug store, and, of course, a fabulous bakery. My point is that if I needed to buy underwear, I knew exactly where to go.

Last weekend, I spent a few days in Estes Park, Colorado, with my two sisters. Estes Park, for those who might not know, is a small resort town of just over 6,000 located near Rocky Mountain National Park. There are lots of restaurants, two – count ‘em – two taffy stores, and shops selling all manner of chatzkies.  We have wonderful memories of Estes, and its proximity to the beautiful national park makes it one of our favorite places to visit.

Bec arrived first, driving in from Fort Collins, and I met her there. I had packed my bag quite hastily, and had included a picnic bag full of items for a cook-out that evening. At some point later in the afternoon, it occurred to me that, while I had remembered the steaks,  I had forgotten to pack pajamas.

No worries, Bec said. I have a spare pair.

Great news, except by that time I realized I had also forgotten to pack a toothbrush and, worse, underwear. (I did, however, have three corkscrews.)

Bec and I put our heads together to try to come up with a place that sold underwear. Had I been looking for a t-shirt that said My Mom and Dad Went to Estes Park and All I Got Was This Stupid T-Shirt, or a coffee cup with a cross-eyed bear saying I Can BEARly Think Before Coffee or a lifetime supply of petrified wood, I would have been set. But we simply couldn’t imagine where one would find ladies’ underwear in this tourist spot. No Walmart. No Target. Amazon can’t make one-hour deliveries.

So I set off to the motel office, hoping against hope that the proprietor – Fred – wouldn’t be attending the desk, and that instead a woman would be sitting there. No such luck. There was Fred, looking cheerful.

Can I help you? he asked happily.

In a voice that was truly sotto voce, I said Hello Fred. This is really embarrassing, but can you tell me where I can buy women’s underwear in this town?

Fred gives it a moment’s thought, turns towards the back room, and hollars – HOLLARS – Hey Joe! Where can this lady buy women’s underwear?

Help me Lord.

Joe comes out, and you can see he’s giving it a lot of thought. After a moment or two, Joe says, Try True Value Hardware. It’s in the Safeway Shopping Center.

True Value Hardware. Men are from Mars.  If only I had three pairs of underwear and no corkscrews. But I knew that there was a pharmacy in that same shopping center, and I had high hopes that perhaps they sold women’s underwear.

I walk into the pharmacy, and there is, of course, only a man working there. I take a deep breath and ask him if they by any chance sell ladies’ underwear.

No Ma’am, we sure don’t, he said. Try True Value. It’s just across the parking lot.

Again with the hardware store. I was successful, however, at finding a toothbrush at the pharmacy.

As I left the store, I saw the True Value Hardware Store. What do I have to lose, I thought.

I walk into the hardware store, and there is, of course, a man at the front counter. Big man. Three-day growth of beard. Chewing on a toothpick. Do you by any chance sell women’s underwear? I ask him.

You’ve probably guessed his answer by now.

Yes, Ma’am. They’re on Aisle 16, just across from the ammo.

Well, I made up the part about the ammo, but I’m not making up the part about True Value Hardware selling ladies’ underwear.  I also found a Size 2XL t-shirt that with a picture of an elk and ESTES PARK, COLORADO in big letters. AKA, a nightgown….

 

Ace might be the place with the helpful hardware man, but True Value has the best selection of women’s cotton briefs in Estes Park. Well, the only selection, it seems.

Guest Post: Reflections 

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By Jennifer Sanchez

I found myself yearning to spend a few days in Nebraska this summer. Last summer at a family reunion I got to know some cousins that I barely knew growing up because of our age difference. I was missing them! I asked Beckie in May if she would have a desire to travel there with me over the Labor Day weekend and she was game. Coincidentally, that was also the weekend of her 50th year high school class reunion. 

Our road trip that Friday was fun and we enjoyed driving past field upon field of corn. We both found those rolling fields beautiful and wondered why we didn’t see that beauty when we were growing up.

Friday evening the first reunion event was held at the Columbus horse race track. Memories flooded. Dad took us  there most every year to watch a few races and always let us pick a horse to win.

Beckie had never attended a class reunion and it was fun watching the reactions of her classmates when they would spot her and begin to catch  up.  I’m younger than Beckie but was familiar with many of their names and enjoyed visiting with them too.

The classmates were identified by lanyards bearing their 1967 yearbook photo.

Saturday morning we took off with two cousins for Cedar Rapids, a small town approximately 40 miles from Columbus, where our mom spent her formative years. Our goal was to get some family history and childhood stories from our oldest living cousin. Mary is one of the people our Mom loved most in this world. We asked questions and Mary told stories in a very Micek fashion. Which means we laughed the entire time we were visiting with her. 

Mary (above) is the eldest of our cousins. Her age belies her joie de vivre. Below are the researchers (and cousins): Rhonda, Bec, Jen, Mary, and Bill.

Saturday afternoon we were back at reunion activities. We met at Scotus Catholic High school for a tour of the building and then attended mass in the school chapel. This was my favorite activity of the weekend . I hadn’t been in that building since I completed my freshman year of high school. I left a piece of my heart there when we moved to Leadville the summer of 1973. 

Notice that there are stations of the cross above the lockers. These were donated to the school upon closing of the convent.

Saturday evening we met several cousins for dinner and talked non-stop trying to piece together family history. Several of us discovered at the reunion that we share an interest in researching Micek family history and background. We had fun sharing individual experiences with our aunts and uncles. Moms family was large. We had 11 aunts and uncles who lived to adulthood from her side. At dinner we ranged in age from 59 to 72, so we brought different perspectives and memories. Again we laughed a lot and several conversations clarified some questions and mysteries. However, more mysteries were revealed.

This was one of the houses in which our mother grew up. In fact, the girls in front of the house are my mother (the littlest one in the front) and some of her sisters.

Sunday morning we met one of our cousins visiting from Minnesota at the cemetery. We talked as we walked and pieced together more info, as looking at dates of births and passings can reveal answers just by the timeline. This cousin had moved to Minnesota when she and Beckie had completed first grade. That one-on-one time with Rhonda gave us such an understanding of her family whom we didn’t know well. Her father was the next one in birth order to our mom, who was the youngest. We shared many stories with her in regard to growing up amidst her very large family. 

Sunday early afternoon Beckie and I attended the final event of the reunion weekend, a picnic at a park. Final reminiscing stories from high school and growing up in Columbus. Old friends made plans and commitments to stay in touch. 

As I quickly approach turning 60 years old, I enjoy more than ever recalling and experiencing memories from childhood. I am interested to understand the generations of my family that came before me.  That weekend spending time with family, watching Beckie catch up with old friends, and gathering more knowledge about the family from which my mom came was good for my soul. 

Saturday Smile: Back to School in Vermont

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Our two grandsons in Vermont get a later start to school, where classes don’t begin until after Labor Day. They go later into the spring as well. But it’s Vermont, which has a mind of its own, and the weather to match the schedule.

Joseph entered third grade and Micah begins his elementary school career as a kindergartener…..

Those two smiles make me smile.

Have a great weekend!

Thursday Thoughts

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Bee Update
Dagny and Maggie Faith stopped by on Monday to visit their Zierk cousins (who Bill and I were watching for a couple of days). I pinned her down to get an update on the bees. She admitted that she and her father had not checked for a while, but she seemed entirely unconcerned about the queen bee. In her mind, things are fine and honey will be available soon. Being a bit more skeptical, I would feel better if she had actually SEEN the queen, but then I’m not a beekeeper and never will be. I am, however, a honey-eater, and eagerly await D’s Bees Honey.

Climb Every Mountain
I’m going to give you a heads-up on something that will be happening on Sunday. Eleven-year-old Dagny, who has been taking climbing lessons for quite a while, is going to be undertaking her first outdoor technical climb. A friend will guide her on the third Flatiron Mountain in Boulder. The climb will involve quite a bit of elevation and some rappelling. More pertinent to me, it will involve a one-hour hike to even get to the base of the mountain. Bill and I – along with much of Dagny’s kin – will be there to cheer her on. That is, presuming I can make it up to the base of the Flatiron. Fingers crossed. Allen plans to climb as well. Bill and I plan to eat a picnic lunch and hold our collective breath. I will get back to you about the whole adventure.

Back to Normal
I mentioned in yesterday’s post that I had been watching Kaiya, Mylee, and Cole for the past couple of days while their parents are out of town. I dropped them off at school yesterday with a kiss and an I-Love-You, dropped off the suitcases and car seats at their Nana Carol’s and Papa David’s house, where they spent yesterday afternoon and night. As for me, I spent the afternoon sitting in my La-Z-Boy watching the most mindless television imaginable. I’m not apologizing either! But here are a few photos of our adventures…..

Kaiya and Cole made fluffy slime on Monday. Shaving cream makes it fluffy. While the whole slime thing is kind of lost on me, they love it.

Monday afternoon, the kids and I went to Willow Creek Park and played on the play ground a bit. Well, they did. I watched. We then walked a bit to nearby Willow Creek, where Cole threw in about 5 lbs of sand a handful at a time. Kaiya and Mylee preferred racing leaves down the waterfall.

Cole and his Play Doh. What more can I say?

Ciao.

Three in the Air

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Every so often Court will lament about the difficulties associated with child rearing.  I have absolutely no time left for myself, he will say.

I oh-so-helpfully respond, you and every other working parent with small kids. I might – just maybe – remind him that no one made him have three kids. I remember the exact spot where I explained the facts of life to him (as he rolled his eyes, clearly wondering how I could possibly think he didn’t already know). The stork didn’t bring them those three wonderful children.

But every so often he gets even by leaving all three with me as he and his wife drive away for a few days alone. He did that very thing this week. Was that squealing tires I heard?

The two of them took a quick trip to Boston – he for business, she for a chance to sleep past 6 a.m. Oh, and a chance to see Faneuil Hall. His dad and stepmother are sharing child care duties with me. How bad could it be?

We both received an email with instructions that could rival General Eisenhower’s plans for D-Day. Our first warning was the title of the email: Instructions for Keeping Our Kids Alive. They apparently had low expectations.

I read through the instructions and broke out in a slight sweat. But on Monday morning, when I took possession of the kids, reality began to set in. Reality slapped me in the face when I started looking at the specific instructions for Tuesday.

Mylee has gym on Tuesday. Make sure she wears sneakers and appropriate clothes. (One plate in the air.) They all must take a bath or shower Monday night, and make sure to comb out Mylee’s hair or it will be a tangled mess Tuesday morning. Because, remember this…..

Oh, and make sure Kaiya takes her medication. (Two plates in the air.) Final bombshell: Tuesday is picture day for Cole so dress him in his dress clothes, spike his hair, and make sure his face is clean when you drop him off. If you can catch him was implied. (Three plates in the air.)…..

Oh, and Tuesday it’s his turn for snack. It’s got to be something healthy. I guess little powdered donuts don’t count. (CRASH.)

And that was just Tuesday. Today looked a bit easier (no hair spiking for photos). And once I drop all 3 kids at school, the baton is exchanged. And I start drinking Bloody Marys like THEY are health food. ( Tomato juice, you know.) Nana Carol and Papa David start the juggling.

I assure you, it doesn’t kill me – at least not quite – to watch these grands for a couple of days. I love that I can give our kids a break and some special time together. But it never fails to amaze me just how simple they all make it look, when it really isn’t.

I’m pretty sure tonight I will be in bed before they are.

This post linked to Grammy’s Grid.

A Face for Radio

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As you read this blog post, you will find that its content has very little to do with its title. But I’ve always thought that phrase was a funny description of someone who has a very good speaking voice but is maybe not willing to wear cocktail dresses to report the news.

We were very short-handed at church Sunday. Bill and I went to 9 o’clock Mass, and there was one priest, one altar server, no deacons, one lector, a cantor, an organist and truly just a handful of people in the congregation. It is my sincere hope that there was slim attendance because of Labor Day weekend, and not because even more people aren’t going to church. It’s already bad enough without more people abandoning ship.

Anyway, our lector was a man who frequently does the readings at this Mass, and I’m always very happy when he is the lector. He has what is undoubtedly one of the most beautiful speaking voices I’ve ever heard. He speaks loudly, but not obnoxiously. He speaks slowly and e-nun-ci-ates every single syllable of every single word, making him easy to understand. He reads as though he is speaking the Word of God, which of course he is. He puts feeling into his readings.

He also always – ALWAYS – wears a coat and tie, with a handkerchief in his pocket, making him look quite dapper. I like that because almost no one dresses up for church any more. I have mixed feelings about that. On the one hand, clearly if you are visiting Jesus in his own house, it would seem as though you should wear your very best. Having said that, I’m in favor of doing anything to make attendance more plentiful – including not worrying about how people are dressed. Because, see above. Low attendance.

So there you have it: the connection to the title. The man sounds as though he worked in radio broadcasting when he was younger. His face, by the way, is perfectly handsome, so the bottom line is no real connection to the title.

But when he stepped to the microphone, here’s the first Words of God that he spoke:

You duped me, O Lord, and I let myself be duped; you were too strong for me, and you triumphed.

Wow. His words echoed through the church. Strong words from the Prophet Jeremiah. I sat up a bit straighter, not just from the power of the words, but from the power of our reader’s voice. He went on….

All the day I am an object of laughter; everyone mocks me. Whenever I speak, I must cry out, violence and outrage is my message; the word of the Lord has brought me derision and reproach all the day.

I say to myself, I will not mention him, I will speak in his name no more. But then it becomes like fire burning in my heart, imprisoned in my bones; I grow weary holding it in, I cannot endure it.

Say, I thought to myself, I’m pretty sure that’s what I do all the time. I’m pretty sure I don’t speak out about what I full-well know is right and what’s wrong, on what is God’s will and on what I know we do that makes God sad. And why not? Because it might make me an object of laughter.

Jesus told his disciples (and us): Whoever wishes to come after me must deny himself, take up his cross, and follow me.

What Jesus DIDN’T say was whoever wishes to come after me must take us his cross but only if it doesn’t make you feel uncomfortable.

Happy Labor Day

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All labor that uplifts humanity has dignity and importance and should be undertaken with painstaking excellence. – Martin Luther King, Jr.

24

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Bill, as you know, is a NASCAR fan, and for many years he was a Jeff Gordon fan. Gordon drove the No. 24 car. A few years ago, when Bill and I went to the NASCAR race in Phoenix, at my urging, he broke down and bought himself a 24 baseball cap at NASCAR race prices, and has worn it proudly to every race since.

In 2015, Gordon announced his retirement, and the 24 car was turned over to a young guy named Chase Elliott. After giving it much thought, Bill decided he would continue to support 24 and has cheered Elliott on for a couple of seasons.

Yesterday morning as Bill was reading his news, he announced to me that Chase Elliott has been assigned a new car — No. 9. Apparently Elliott’s father — also a racer — had driven No. 9, and in honor of his father, Chase asked for that number. Bill added that the 24 car was going to be driven by some young driver.

“So,” I asked Bill, “to whom are you going to be loyal — Chase Elliott or No. 24?”

Bill was quiet for a second or so, and then said, “Well, I don’t want to buy another hat.”

So I guess Bill will continue to support 24, no matter what kind of racer he is. The alternative would be to spend big bucks on another hat.

Have a great weekend.