Category Archives: Whimsies

Thursday Thoughts

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Early Birds
Our gang visiting from Denver left early yesterday morning, and when I say early, I mean EARLY. Their flight took off at 5:30 a.m. They spent the night before in a hotel near the airport, and had the alarm set early enough to catch a 4 o’clock shuttle. They landed safely. The plan, then, was that Dave would catch a different plane to take him to Las Vegas for a (cough) work meeting. The four kids would run home and change clothes and grab lunches and backpacks and go to school. What’s more, Addie has one of the leading roles in her school musical playing last night. I wasn’t a bit concerned that she would be too tired to remember her lines, because I’m confident she will not only remember HER lines, but will also remember EVERYONE ELSE’S lines. I was mostly concerned that her singing voice would be croaky from exhaustion. As of the time I wrote this post, I haven’t heard how she did.

I Can’t Make Up My Mind
One of the places we took our family to eat is Oregano’s, because it’s one of our favorite restaurants.  We had a wonderful time and enjoyed the pizza and other Italian goodies very much. The food server did her duty, and told us about the dessert offerings, which are a variety of what they used to call pazookies, but for some sort of trademark reason, had to change the name to pizza cookies. These are partially unbaked cookies, served warm with ice cream. I began playing a game with Addie, and wasn’t paying attention, and when I looked up, this happened……

trio-of-pazookies

Buzzkill
Dagny loves all animals, but especially is intrigued and drawn to insects. From the time she was a little girl, she has said she wanted to be an entymologist. She will literally pick up an insect that’s made its way into the house and carry it carefully in her cupped hand to the outdoors and to safety. She was horrified last summer to see me step forcefully on a wasp that had landed on our patio. A wasp. But apparently no one told the bee about Dagny’s love of insects, because at the baseball game on Tuesday, Dagny went to pull her hair back from her face and got in the way of a bee that was flying near her face. The bee stung her, and Dagny’s heart was broken. It hurt, darn it. The nerve……

dagny-bee-sting-2-17

Smudges
Bill and I started out our Ash Wednesday (and the entire season of Lent) by attending Mass, which included the distribution of ashes. Catholics love Ash Wednesday. Oh, I don’t know if they particularly like the part about not eating meat and fasting, but they love getting those ashes. So the church was crowded. Afterwards, Bill and I were heading straight to Chandler to visit my sister-in-law who is in the hospital following an accident at work, and had the whole should-we-leave-them-on-or-take-them-off discussion regarding the ashes. Bill is in the remove-the-ashes camp, as the Ash Wednesday gospel clearly tells us not to be like the hypocrites and to pray and fast and do penance quietly. I, on the other hand, always keep my ashes on because, well, the nuns told us to. We landed on the remove-the-ashes side, however, as we didn’t think everyone in the hospital needed to be staring at us. After our visit, we went for lunch where I forgot it was a day of fasting from meat and ordered a meat-laden salad. My penance for yesterday was picking meat out of an antipasto salad.

Ciao.

No Rest for the Wicked and the Righteous Don’t Need It

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What has eight legs, four heads, eats twice its weight in food, moves nonstop, and cries or laughs in the blink of an eye? The answer? Four visiting grandkids….

bill-kris-microwave-mountain

On top of Microwave Mountain, not too far from our house. Addie is in back and Maggie, Dagny and Alastair are front and center.

Their parents, of course, were also visiting, and they each have a head and legs. They, however, aren’t always hungry and sit still once in a while.

Alas, they have returned to Denver, and now it will take a bit of getting used to the quiet and inaction of our real lives. If history is reliable, I will likely find a random sock or a drawing or two for the next few days, which will make me smile and be sad, all at the same time.

It was an action-packed few days that included three Cubs spring training games, two hikes, some geocaching, pizza, hamburgers, Italian beef sandwiches, a big box of donuts, and lots of soda pop, something that is quite restricted when they are NOT on vacation…..

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kris-mclains-hiking-usery-2-17-2

And speaking of things that DON’T happen when they’re not on vacation…..

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Dagny, with a donut almost as big as she!

The weather wasn’t exactly what I had hoped for, with temperatures that didn’t reach the high 60s. There was mostly sunshine, however, and the cooler temps didn’t stop the kids from swimming in their hotel pool. They are about the heartiest kids I’ve ever known. Monday night in particular, they left our house when it was dark and probably in the 50s, and yet they swam when they got back to the hotel. Jeez!….

Dagny, Addie, and Maggie Faith enjoy the pool, despite the chilly temps.

Dagny, Addie, and Maggie Faith enjoy the pool, despite the chilly temps.

I love to geocache, and I don’t often have the opportunity. I can do it alone, but it’s not that much fun without a partner. It’s much nicer to have four enthusiastic fellow hunters. It so happened that we went four finds for four searches, and EACH ONE OF THE KIDS FOUND A GEOCACHE! Yay.

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Maggie found a very tricky geocache in which the little container was drilled into a rock!

Maggie found a very tricky geocache in which the little container was drilled into a rock!

When there are four of you, it is nice to find a little peace and quiet for yourself, even if it makes your grandfather a bit nervous….

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Maggie sat on the fence with a rubber cricket toy she stumbled upon while geocaching and which she named Hank, and enjoyed the quiet and the view. A bit more daring, Dagny traversed the entire top of the fence on foot. Many times.

It was a wonderful visit, and came right about the time that I was starting to get very homesick for grandkids. Now they go back to their busy lives, while Bill and I return to our quiet lives.

Family Cooking Ties Redux

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This blog post originally ran after Easter dinner last March. I love to read about the cooking skills of my nieces and nephews and our own son…..

IMG_0069“Do you think you will use that ham bone or throw it away?” asked my nephew Erik as he got ready to leave on Easter Sunday. I knew right away why he was asking.

I assured him that the ham bone would be put to good use. But if I wasn’t going to use it, he wanted it.

“What would you make with it?” I asked him.

He didn’t have a plan, but he knew there were a lot of options. He also knew that a good cook would never let something as delicious as a ham bone with a lot of meat still clinging stubbornly to it go to waste.

This past Thanksgiving, Court asked Jll a similar question. What are planning to do with the turkey carcass? Jll assured him she didn’t really have a plan, and as she has four kids Court Closeupand was entertaining Heather and Lauren and the two boys, she was desperate for refrigerator space.

“Take it,” she said with obvious relief.

Like, Erik, Court wasn’t sure what he would make, but knew a turkey carcass would make something good. I think that carcass turned into turkey noodle soup if I’m not mistaken. And it undoubtedly was good because everything tastes better if there’s bones involved.

I have said on numerous occasions that my mother was a very good cook. Though I never asked her, I presume she liked to cook, because I don’t think you can be a good cook if you heartily dislike it. Given all of that, I often think how happy it must make her up in heaven to see how so many of her grandkids love to cook – and do a bang-up job of it.

Christopher and porkNot only are they good cooks, but they appreciate the art of cooking and the gift of good food. Recently, when Jen was here, we had the family over for carne asada. Dave’s son Christopher had smoked a pork butt the day before, and had some left over. He brought it along, knowing full well that somehow that smoked pork would be eaten. It was. I put it in a fry pan, crisped up the bottom, and it became smoked carnitas. In addition to pork butt, he smokes a delicious brat. My mouth is watering.

Jen’s son BJ is happiest if he can throw a piece of meat that he has marinated for a few hours onto the grill. He makes up his own marinade using whatever he thinks sounds good. I would never be able to do that. I require a recipe. Jen sent him home with leftover prime rib from their Easter dinner. He sautéed onion, garlic, mushrooms and a jalapeno in some olive oil, then added the meat to warm up. He made it all into a sandwich.

Good cooking isn’t limited to the men of our family. Mom would have loved seeing Jensen17 (2)Maggie in the kitchen. I have watched Maggie mature into an absolutely splendid cook in the years since she’s been married. She is far removed from her post-college days when she would be cooking something in a fry pan and call her mother in desperation as smoke was rising from the pan. Jen could hear even over the phone that the meat was frying at too hot a temperature. “Turn down the temperature!” she would firmly instruct Maggie. “It’s cooking too fast.

It’s nice to see our love for cooking being passed down to our kids and even our grandkids.

I used up my ham bone last night preparing green beans and ham. Here is my mother’s recipe for Green Beans and Ham, in the exact words from her recipe card…..

Green Beans and Ham or Bacon
Sauté chopped onion in margarine, add flour and brown slightly. Add hot water and boil a few minutes. Prepare frozen green beans (or fresh beans). Pour the onion mixture into the beans, add ham (or chunk bacon cut in small pieces). Simmer about 30 minutes. Add water, if needed. Add peeled potatoes and continue cooking until potatoes are done.

Nana’s Notes: I sauté in butter rather than margarine. Rather than water, I use chicken or vegetable broth. Nowadays you can get fresh green beans anytime, so I never use frozen, only fresh. When I was small, green beans were only available in the summer. Mom would buy them from a farmer. I carefully cleaned them, always on the lookout for a worm!  I like to use new red potatoes or new yellow potatoes.

Words of Wisdom, Redux

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Because I have family visiting, I am reprinting some of my favorite posts for the next couple of days. 

I came across this list of advice to remember on Pinterest, so unfortunately I am unable to give credit. It was pinned from a website called lolsnaps.com. These words of wisdom originate from someone’s high school yearbook, so many are directly apropos to high school kids. Still, I think ALL of them are important to remember as we go through life. I’m guessing the list was constructed by a teacher or a bunch of teachers, and are in no particular order. I absolutely LOVE this list and I think all of you will agree…..

  1. There are plenty of ways to enter a pool. The stairs is not one of them.
  2. Never cancel dinner plans by text message.
  3. Don’t knock it ‘til you try it.
  4. If a street performer makes you stop walking, you owe him a buck.
  5. Always use “we” when referring to your home team or your government.
  6. When entrusted with a secret, keep it.
  7. Don’t underestimate free throws in a game of HORSE.
  8. Just because you can doesn’t mean you should.
  9. Don’t dumb it down.
  10. You only get one chance to notice a new haircut.
  11. If you’re staying more than one night, unpack.
  12. Never park in front of a bar.
  13. Expect the seat in front of you to recline. Prepare accordingly.
  14. Keep a picture of your first fish, first car, and first girl/boyfriend.
  15. Hold your heroes to a high standard.
  16. A suntan is earned, not bought.
  17. Never lie to your doctor.
  18. All guns are loaded.
  19. Don’t mention sunburns. Believe me, they know.
  20. The best way to show thanks is to wear it. Even if it’s only once.
  21. Take a vacation of your cell phone, internet, and TV once a year.
  22. Don’t fill up on bread, no matter how good.
  23. A handshake beats an autograph.
  24. Don’t linger in the doorway. In or out.
  25. If you choose to go in drag, don’t sell yourself short.
  26. If you want to know what makes you unique, sit for a caricature.
  27. Never get your hair cut the day of a special event.
  28. Be mindful of what comes between you and the earth. Always buy good shoes, tires, and sheets.
  29. Never eat lunch at your desk if you can avoid it.
  30. When you’re with new friends, don’t just talk about old friends.
  31. Eat lunch with the new kids.
  32. When traveling, keep your wits about you.
  33. It’s never too late for an apology.
  34. Don’t pose with booze.
  35. If you have the right of way, TAKE IT.
  36. You don’t get to choose your own nickname.
  37. When you marry someone, remember you marry their entire family.
  38. Never push someone off a dock.
  39. Under no circumstances should you ask a woman if she is pregnant.
  40. It’s not enough to be proud of your ancestry; live up to it.
  41. Don’t make a scene.
  42. When giving a thank you speech, short and sweet is best.
  43. Know when to ignore the camera.
  44. Never gloat.
  45. Invest in great luggage.
  46. Make time for your mom on your birthday. It’s her special day too.
  47. When opening presents, no one likes a good guesser.
  48. Sympathy is a crutch; never fake a limp.
  49. Give credit. Take blame.
  50. Suck it up every now and again.
  51. Never be the last one in the pool.
  52. Don’t stare.
  53. Address everyone that carries a firearm professionally.
  54. Stand up to bullies. You’ll only have to do it once.
  55. If you’ve made your point, stop talking.
  56. Admit it when you’re wrong.
  57. If you offer to help, don’t quit until the job is done.
  58. Look people in the eye when you thank them.
  59. Thank the bus driver.
  60. Never answer the phone at the dinner table.
  61. Forgive yourself for your mistakes.
  62. Know at least one good joke.
  63. Don’t boo. Even the ref is somebody’s son or daughter.
  64. Know how to cook one good meal.
  65. Learn to drive a stick shift.
  66. Be cool to younger kids. Reputations are built over a lifetime.
  67. It’s okay to go to the movies by yourself.
  68. Dance with your mother/father.
  69. Don’t lose your cool. Especially at work.
  70. Always thank the host.
  71. If you don’t understand, ask before it’s too late.
  72. Know the size of your boyfriend/girlfriend’s clothes.
  73. There is nothing wrong with a plain t-shirt.
  74. Be a good listener. Don’t just take your turn to talk.
  75. Keep your word.
  76. In college, always sit in the front. You’ll stand out immediately. Come grade time, it might come in handy.
  77. Carry your mother’s bags. She carried you for nine months.
  78. Be patient with airport security. They are just doing their job.
  79. Don’t be the talker in a movie.
  80. The opposite sex likes people who shower.
  81. You are what you do, not what you say.
  82. Learn to change a tire.
  83. Be kind. Everyone has a hard fight ahead of them.
  84. An hour with grandparents is time well spent. Ask for advice when you need it.
  85. Don’t litter.
  86. If you have a sister, get to know her friends. Your opinion is important.
  87. You won’t always be the strongest or the fastest. But you can be the toughest.
  88. Never call someone before 9 a.m. or after 9 p.m.
  89. Buy the orange properties in Monopoly.
  90. Make the little things count.
  91. Always wear a bra at work.
  92. There is a fine line between looking sultry and slutty. Find it.
  93. You’re never too old to need your mom.
  94. Ladies, if you make the decision to wear heels on the first date, commit to keeping them on and keeping your trap shut about how much your feet hurt.
  95. Know the words to your national anthem.
  96. Your dance moves might not be the best, but I promise making a fool of yourself is more fun than sitting on the bench alone.
  97. Smile at strangers.
  98. Make goals.
  99. Being old is not dictated by your bedtime.
  100. If you have to fight, punch first and punch hard.

Saturday Smile: That’s Calm

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micah-joseph-nana-market-2Our grandson Joseph went on a field trip with his school to the butterfly exhibit at ECHO, Leahy Center for Lake Camplain in Burlington, VT. A local television program called Stuck in Vermont featured a story about the exhibit. As part of the clip, Joseph was asked to give his thoughts about the exhibit. The below segment is just over 8 minutes long, but it’s quite interesting, and you can get an idea of the intelligence of this little boy. He is featured quite early in the segment (at 2.25 minutes), and then again later (at 4.45), but my favorite part is his first bit, when he says that in order to attract the butterflies, you have to be as calm as a tree. Oh, were I only as calm as a tree every day of my life…..

http://www.sevendaysvt.com/vermont/butterflies-live-siv479/Content?oid=4260205

Have a great weekend.

Thursday Thoughts

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Make the House Ready
Late tomorrow (like midnight!), Dave and Jll and the four kids arrive in AZ for a visit. YAY! We dangled the opening game of the Chicago Cubs Spring Training before their looking-at-disney-picseyes, and they bit. Dave is a life-long Cubs fan, stemming from the fact that both his father and mother were born and reared in the Windy City, and Dave spent considerable time there visiting family. In fact, he was born in Arlington Heights, a suburb of Chicago, though they moved to Denver when he was small. He had wanted to go to a game when the Cubs were in the World Series back in the fall, but it didn’t happen. But given the fact that we are already seeing people in Cubs garb here in Mesa, the Spring Training season should be fun. Bill and Dave are going to the Cubs opening game, and all of us will be going to games on Sunday and Tuesday. Go Cubs! By the way, if you want a reminder of just how much the kids like the Cubs, re-read this blog post from December…..

Gophers
I talk all the time about the number of Midwesterners who come to AZ to spend the winter, getting relief from the below-freezing temperatures. The longer I’m here, the more I suspect that a major share of the so-called winter visitors are from the great minnesota-license-platestate of Minnesota. Who can blame them? One of our priests – who himself is retired and hails from Minnesota – claims that the bishop of the Minneapolis Archdiocese actually holds his Christmas collection on July 25 because on that day, the state is full of visiting tourists intent on fishing the 10,000 lakes, while on December 25, the churches are empty because everyone’s in AZ! Bill and I were returning from somewhere the other day, and we were a mile or so from home. I said to Bill, “I’ll bet you that we spot a Minnesota license plate between here an home.” I wish I would have bet him after-dinner clean-up duties for a week, because sure enough, a few blocks from our house, a car with Minnesota plates drove past.

Would You Like that Wine in Paper or Plastic?
One of the featured appetizers at Bec’s annual Mardis Gras party are mini-muffulettas, those wonderful sandwiches featuring salami, mortadella, cheese and a delicious olive spread. It’s the olive spread that makes these sandwiches stand out. Each year, she has gotten her olive spread at Fry’s. But she called me a couple of days before the party to lament that her neighborhood Fry’s no longer carried the olive spread. I told her that I would check the two Fry’s that are near me here in Mesa to see if they still carried the spread. I was actually at my Fry’s unsuccessfully seeking the olive spread when my phone rang. It was Bec. “You won’t believe where I am,” she said. “I am at the fanciest Fry’s Market that I have ever in my life seen.” “Uh-huh,” I said, still searching for olive spread. “No, I’m serious,” she said. “It has a sushi bar. It has a salad bar. For heaven’s sake, it has a WINE BAR.” Wait, what? I was still smiling as I went to the self-check registers to ring up my groceries, which didn’t include olive spread because the fancy Fry’s of course, had an olive bar and so Bec had already bought the spread. The woman assisting at the self-check registers came over to see if she could help me with something because I was laughing. I explained about the telephone call from my sister, and she was not surprised. She told me that all of the new Fry’s were including all of those things, and that there was one not far from where I was standing right that very second. I quickly paid for my groceries and headed that way. It was true. It was just as Bec had described, down to the sushi bar and the wine and beer bar. When I say sushi bar, I don’t mean just plastic containers of sushi; I mean there are people making sushi to order and you sit at the bar (probably with a glass of wine from the wine bar) and enjoy your sushi. There was no one partaking at the wine bar that day, but I have gone a couple of times since, and both times there have been people drinking a beer and eating something from the deli. Maybe the reason this so astounds me is because they don’t sell wine or beer in grocery stores in Colorado. All I know is, I AM GOING TO GO HAVE A GLASS OF WINE ONE AFTERNOON WHILE I’M SHOPPING. Because I can.

frys-wine-bar

Ciao.

Old Stuff

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A number of years ago, my sister Bec had to pack up her house in northern Virginia, in which she had lived with her husband and two kids for something like 30 years, and she had to do it all by herself. Her husband had passed away, her kids lived in lands far, far away, and she had sold that house and was moving to a smaller house in AZ. She had no choice; she was on her own. It wasn’t going to pack up itself.

She tells this story: After spending the entire summer going through cupboards and dressers and closets and dusty boxes in the attic and garage, all the while making decisions about what would travel to AZ, what would be sold in her end-of-the-summer garage sale, what her kids would take, and what would be tossed, she came face-to-face with her cedar chest. She opened it up and saw such things as baby clothes and her wedding dress and mementos she had collected over the years. All those manner of things which women save in their cedar chests.

Having spent the entire summer taking on this huge task mostly by herself (her kids helped as they could, but see above – far, far away), she had reached her limit. “I simply didn’t know what to do with my wedding gown,” she says. “So I closed up the cedar chest and said out loud to myself, ‘I am leaving this for the kids to go through after I die.’”

Sometimes I think our Denver house is so full of STUFF that it could topple over. Much of the stuff, however, is easily disposable. Start by packing up boxes of clothes and giving them to Bill’s BFF Jane-from-ARC who calls him nearly every week.

But the things that paralyze me are things such as my good Royal Doulton china or the beautiful things that my mother-in-law has given me over the years. Then there’s the boxes and boxes of photos – both mine and those that came out of Wilma’s house when she moved to assisted living awhile back and were sent to Bill and me because we weren’t there to stop his brother and sister who were packing up Wilma’s house from sending them to us. Bless their hearts.

Or my dad’s clarinet. The clarinet that he used when he played in the Navy band during World War II and later when he played in my mother’s brothers’ dance band. The clarinet that my grandparents probably worked their butts off to afford to buy him. Several years ago, our granddaughter Addie decided to play clarinet in her school band. I offered her Dad’s instrument, and she was tickled. But she took it to her teacher who told her that because of its age, it would require a great deal of work to get it back working properly. As with many things, it made more sense for her to get something new. And so that instrument sits in my basement. I can’t throw it away. I couldn’t in a million years.

Speed Star 1.0468347 00

I came across this article recently that confirmed my suspicion: no one wants my stuff. Young families no longer use expensive and easily breakable china, even for holidays. No one yearns for the old dresser in my guest room with a waterstained top, even if it did belong to my dad when he was a kid. All of the baby sweaters and booties in my own cedar chest that were handmade by my grandmother – do you ever see a baby wearing old-fashioned booties anymore? Maybe baby mary janes or baby converse. No baby booties that go up to the infant’s knees. As for Royal Doulton? When I went on their website to see if they even sell the Carlyle pattern anymore, I saw that they sell things called the Gordon Ramsey Union Street Collection or the Pacific Collection. In order to purchase my particular pattern, it would require Ebay or replacements.com, and more money than most young adults would want to spend.

il_570xn-1114173921_eadt

So, at the end of the day, in the event that Bill and I sell our Denver house, many of these items will be placed in a box and carried to our next home, where it will sit until such time as it will no longer be our problem.

Done. And thanks for your good example, Bec. Drop the mic.

Linked to Grammy’s Grid.

Like N’Awlins

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eating-mardi-gras-2017As I hugged my sister Bec goodbye yesterday evening, the smell of jambalaya and gumbo still in the air and the dusting of powdered sugar from the beignets still on my jeans, we speculated as to why this particular gathering each year is so much fun.

“The delicious food?” I suggested.

“Maybe,” she said. “But I think it’s just because we get together for no other reason than to be together and enjoy one another.”

The gathering about which I am speaking is our annual Mardi Gras party. And when I say our, I mean Bec’s, because while we all contribute, she is the hostess with the mostess, and has to clean up all of the powdered sugar that I missed in my rudimentary counter wipe-down. Because you can’t cover hot beignets with powdered sugar without getting it places other than the beignets. She will likely be cleaning up powdered sugar until Easter.

As usual, Erik provided the bulk of the meal — his jambalaya and his gumbo, both of which were delicious…..

gumbo-jambalaya-2017

He makes enough to feed an army, which is a good thing, because that left enough for some of us to take a bit home for lunch tomorrow. While both were yummy, this year the gumbo hit the spot for me. Anyone who has made real gumbo recognizes the patience and skill it takes to make a roux that color.

Making its premier at Bec’s annual party were the beignets, those hot fried pieces of dough covered — COVERED — in powdered sugar. The treats were provided by Jessie, with some help from her dad (my brother David)….

 

jessie-beignets-2017

dave-beignets-2017

Also making its debut at our Mardi Gras celebration were drinks called French 75. These amazing concoctions originated from the famous New Orleans’ restaurant Arnaud’s, and consist of gin, champagne, fresh lemon juice and something sweet. Josey used Agave nector. They were, in a word, yum….

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But of course beignets aren’t quite enough dessert for us, because if there isn’t a King Cake, it isn’t Mardi Gras….

king-cake-2017

And where there is a King Cake, there must be a baby hidden within. Tradition has it that whoever gets the baby in his or her piece of cake (and manages not to choke on it) must host the next year’s Mardi Gras party. Since many of the cake partakers were under the age of 11, the tradition was tweaked so that the one getting the baby was instead crowned King or Queen of the party, with a scepter to prove his or her royalty. Queen Mackenzie Rose was the lucky winner, shown here with her scepter….

mackenzie-scepter-2017

As for Jenna, she may not have gotten the baby, but she certainly is the proud wearer of the most beads….

jenna-beads-2017

 

We may not make it to New Orleans for Mardis Gras this year once again, but we certainly have our own kind of celebration.

Saturday Smile: No Bartering at this Yard Sale

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I have mentioned before — maybe two or three hundred times — that the area in which we spend January through May is the Wild, Wild West. Admittedly, most of the Phoenix metro area could be considered the Wild, Wild West (I just heard the entire town of Scottsdale suck in their breath) because it’s the home of Sheriff Joe Arpaio, who used to make his male prisoners dress in pink when they were out picking up litter as part of their punishment. He was defeated in the last election. Even President Trump couldn’t carry him into another term on his coattails.

But the area of Mesa in which we live is more like Dodge City than other parts of the Phoenix metro area. Perhaps it’s our proximity to Apache Junction. In fact, you may recall that I recently posted a blog in which I noted that Bill’s nearby barber was packing heat as he cut Bill’s hair. So it should have come as no surprise to see this sign just down the street from where we live……

ammo-yard-sale-sign-2017

Yard sales are big around here. Huge. In fact, I think it might be some people’s way of earning a living. Just sayin’. But I must admit I’ve never seen a sign for an Ammo Yard Sale. Bill and I drove by just to see if they were really selling ammo in their front yard, and indeed they were. It was on a table just behind the kids toys and right under the worn-out T-shirts. I have the photo to prove it…..

yard-sale

It’s not a great photo, but let’s face it. One doesn’t want to annoy a person who is selling ammo in her front yard by taking pictures of her yard sale. It wouldn’t be prudent.

Have a great weekend.

Friday Book Whimsy: To Capture What We Cannot Keep

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searchBeatrice Colin’s novel To Capture What We Cannot Keep could have been complete drivel, and I would still have read it front to back simply to learn about the construction of the Eiffel Tower, the novel’s focus.

Thankfully, it wasn’t drivel. It was, in fact, a passably readable love story, love between two people, but more importantly, love for a creation that turned sheets of metal into one of the most, oh heck, THE most recognizable structure in the world.

I found Colin’s novel, though about a difficult love affair, interesting mostly in its portrayal of 19th Century Paris and the incredible changes that were taking place at this time and in this place. Impressionist art was becoming more palatable to more people. Women were becoming increasingly independent. The city was abuzz in preparation for the 1889 World’s Fair, for which Gustave Eiffel’s tower was going to be the entrance.

Cait lost her husband to a weird accident when still a young woman. Left nearly penniless, she becomes the paid companion for the two teenaged children of a wealthy Scotsman. As part of her duties, she accompanies them to Paris, where preparations are underway for the upcoming World’s Fair. There she meets and falls in love with Emile, the engineer in charge of the tower’s construction. The seemingly-doomed love affair comes to a head at the end of the book in an amazing scene in which Cait climbs to the top of the tower despite a fear of heights to seek out Emile.

Aside from Cait, Emile, and Eiffel, the characters are insipid and self-absorbed and quite unlikable, just as I suspect the author crafted them. But as I mentioned before, the main character is the Eiffel Tower itself.

I have been lucky enough to stand in front of the Eiffel Tower and have my breath taken away by its beauty. Colin’s novel made me think for the first time just how NUTS people must have thought Eiffel was to think that a tower made out of metal was going to be anything but hideous. Metal and bolts and nothing else.

And I had also never thought about the difficulty involved in building such a structure, especially given the times and the lack of computers to measure the wind and the air pressure and the seismic activity. Lots of best guesses and fingers crossed.

I was actually quite surprised at how much I enjoyed this novel. As with The Last Days of Night from which I learned about the invention of the light bulb, Capture What We Cannot Keep taught me a great deal about architecture, engineering, and the construction of one of our most endearing landmarks.

Here is a link to the book.

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