Category Archives: Whimsies

Smarty Pants

Posted in Whimsies by

Bill and I were at church yesterday morning. Shortly before Mass began, a family entered the pew behind us. Though I didn’t turn around, it seemed to be a mom, a dad, and a child. I’ve been pleased to see more families at our church, and was happy to have them there.

Shortly after the Mass begins, the congregation sings the Gloria. You know, glory to God in the highest and peace to people of goodwill. Bill and I began singing, and I noticed that the child behind us was also singing. I peeked around, and was very surprised to see that it was a child who was maybe 2 years old who was doing the singing. She knew every single word of the prayer by heart. Most adults don’t know the prayer by heart, and have to read along in the prayer book. She couldn’t carry a tune very well (having only practice heretofore with Mary Had a Little Lamb) but she knew every word.

Wow, I thought. Kids these days are so smart.

Bill and I are constantly pointing out to one another that our grandkids are very smart. I was out in the garden recently with 11-year-old Mylee, and I said something about ants not being very smart because their brains are small. As soon as I said it, I waited for Mylee to respond, because I knew she would have thoughts on what I just said. She did. “Nana, the size of your brain doesn’t have that much to do with how smart you are,” she said. I’m not certain she is correct, since I know I’m smarter than most ants. But she certainly was not shy to express her opinion.

Whenever she or many children provide a fact or some information that I’m surprised they know, I will ask them how they know that fact. Almost without exception, they will respond that they saw it on You Tube.

I’m not here to encourage parents to let their children play with technology to their hearts content. I can tell you that many kids would do nothing but stare at screens, when they need some time to socialize and get fresh air. Still, I am not horrified by the amount of time many kids spend on technology.

Kaiya, Mylee, and Cole were here on Saturday. Cole wants me to sit next to him and watch him play his games. I have no idea what he’s doing, but whatever it is, he’s doing it very quickly. His fingers move so fast I can’t even keep up with what he’s doing. And he’s narrating his actions. He’s talking about avatars and browsers and taskbars. At one point, he told me he wished he had admin privileges so that he could do, well, something. I will admit that I stopped listening when he said admin privileges.

How does he know what admin privileges are? When I was Cole’s age, I was still reading Dick and Jane and learning my shapes.

In the meantime, Kaiya was prowling around, doing a blueprint of our house in pencil. She intended to then transfer the blueprint to a program she knew in which that was possible. Her drawing, by the way, was amazing, and startlingly accurate, even in proportions.

As Bill and I say, our grandkids are smart.

Saturday Smile: The Chase is On

Posted in Whimsies by

Bill and I own two houses. Between the two houses there are three different types of garbage pickup on three different days of the week that we have to remember. There are three different types of collecting cans (recycling, composting, and garbage) in five different colors. Given that we have trouble remembering the proper names of our grandkids, it’s remarkable that we generally come close to getting the correct cans out on the correct days of the week.

This past Tuesday, the City and County of Denver picked up three different kinds of trash — garbage, recycling, and composting. We had two of the three out on the curb the night before. I thought Bill had taken the very-full composting can to the curb and he thought I had. I happened to be looking out the window and saw the composting truck coming down the street

“You put out the compost can, didn’t you?” I asked, remembering that it was full of all sorts of stinky foods and boxes and other compostable items.

All of the sudden, Bill came running out of the kitchen and out the front door. He was in his pajamas. He grabbed the can, and began chasing the truck down the street. The garbage collector noticed the crazy man chasing him down, and put on his brakes, stopping in the nick of time.

With a wave, he dumped the can and took off.

As for me, I was laughing so hard at the sight that I couldn’t do anything but wave back.

Have a great weekend.

Friday Book Whimsy: Razorblade Tears

Posted in Whimsies by

It’s clear that author S.A. Cosby isn’t afraid to tackle the difficult issues of the day. His 2020 novel Blacktop Wasteland made many readers like me squirm while looking at what it’s like to be poor and black in America, especially the south. The protagonist in that book wanted so much to escape his life of crime, but didn’t know where to go. That novel was one of my favorite reads of 2020.

Razorblade Tears will be one of my favorite reads of 2021. The protagonists this time are the unlikely combination of a white father and a black father whose gay sons were killed. The police haven’t found the killers, and Ike Randolph and Buddy Lee are pretty sure nobody is trying too hard.

Like the protagonist in Blacktop Wasteland, Ike served his time and has kept a clean record since being released from prison. Buddy served time too, but he isn’t too worried about staying out of trouble because he is poor and uneducated and has very little to lose. Each man suffers acutely from the memory of how he reacted to learning their son was gay.

They intend to make up for their sins by finding out who murdered their boys, leaving a daughter behind.

The story is told in measured tones. The author paints such a wonderful picture of the anguish felt by each man for the way they treated their sons, and how they intend to make up for their shortcomings, no matter what it takes, no matter how much they have to lose.

Razorblade Tears is not a cheerful book, but it is a rewarding read. I loved watching the two men develop throughout the story. The ending, while not what I would call lighthearted, was entirely appropriate and satisfying.

Don’t miss this wonderful book, and this amazing writer.

Here is a link to the book.

Thursday Thoughts

Posted in Whimsies by

Harvestless
We have fruit trees in our back yard. We have three apple trees and a pear tree (but no partridge). The trees bear fruit or they don’t bear fruit; it generally depends upon the spring weather. If we get a freeze after the trees start blossoming, we’re unlikely to get fruit. If the weather stays warm, the trees will offer abundant apples and pears. This year, spring cooperated, and all of the trees got heavy with fruit. Until the fruit vanished. Seriously, it’s like a UFO landed in our backyard, aliens emerged, and took all of our fruit one night. The truth is, the fruit probably didn’t vanish overnight because I don’t look at the trees every day. But I recently took a tour of our backyard and noticed there wasn’t any fruit. “What happened to all of our apples and pears?” I asked Bill. He was stumped as well. Just then, a squirrel ran by with an apple in its mouth. I have my suspicions.

A New Sister
Our granddaughter Addie chose to go through Rush at CSU, with the goal of pledging a sorority. Though two of her grandmothers, her mother, and an aunt all were members of a sorority, she was keeping an open mind. “I want to really connect with whichever house I choose,” she told me. At the end of the rush period, she chose Kappa Delta, which happens to be the sorority of which I am a member. Since I quit school after my sophomore year, the sorority sort of went along the wayside. So I can’t really claim that my membership had anything to do with her decision, or the decision of Kappa Delta. She made her choice, and I’m certain she made a good one. I’m proud of my granddaughter, as I always am.

Float Like a Butterfly
Bill and I have been watching the Ken Burns special about Muhammed Ali this week on PBS. Bill has always been a fan of boxing. He recalls watching the Friday Night Fights with his dad, with his dad smoking a cigar in the TV room. Imagine. Bill, of course, has a particular interest in Ali now because of the Parkinson connection. Ali developed the progressive disease, likely from being hit in the head a thousand times. It was sad, but the good that came from it is that he gave a lot of money towards finding a cure. The special, by the way, is remarkable. Boxing is brutal, there’s no doubt about it. But watching how the man moved and ducked and easily beat his opponents is fascinating. I vaguely remember when he refused to go to Vietnam, but I was pretty young, so I didn’t pay much attention. I wish my dad was still alive because I would love to have his take on the whole situation. Anyway, I recommend the series.

Havest Moon
Shine on, shine on harvest moon up in the sky. I ain’t had no lovin’ since January, February, June or July. Snowtime ain’t no time to stay outdoors and spoon, so shine on, shine on harvest moon, for me and my gal! I have been enjoying the harvest moon we have had the past couple of days, though Bill and I haven’t been doing a lot spooning. The big full moon just reminds me that winter is around the bend. We had to put our comforter on the bed this week. Just sayin’…..

Ciao.

The Real Monday Night Football

Posted in Whimsies by

When we moved into this neighborhood 29 years ago, somehow I learned that Red Miller lived in our ‘hood, in fact, only a block or so from our new house. For non-Bronco fans, I will explain that Red Miller coached the Broncos from 1977-1980, and took them to Super Bowl XII, which they unfortunately lost to the Dallas Cowboys. He coached such Bronco greats as Lyle Alzado, Randy Gradishar, and Tom Jackson.

He happened to live on a street that I drove nearly every day of the week, usually twice to and from work. I will venture to say that I didn’t pass his house a single time without mentally saying hello to the man. A couple of times, he was out in the front yard mowing or getting his mail. As you can tell from that last sentence, NFL coaches weren’t paid then as they are now. Our neighborhood doesn’t consist of mansions.

What I also remember is that I would often think how much I would love to get to know him personally. It isn’t that I am particularly interested in knowing a local celebrity. I kept thinking how much fun it would be to sit in his living room and watch a Broncos’ game with him explaining what he would do and why they did what they did. I love football, but I know very little about the intricacies of the game.

My professed desire to watch a football game with a football pro will tell you why I love ESPN’s new Monday Night Football program that features Peyton and Eli Manning doing exactly what I wanted Red Miller to do. Help me get into the mind of the players. What is the coach thinking? What play should they call now? Why on earth did they throw the ball instead of run the two yards necessary for the first down?

The person at ESPN who came up with the concept is a genius. I would venture to say that by the end of the season, more people will be watching Peyton and Eli than are watching the actual game.

I really should say PEYTON and Eli, because it is really Peyton’s show. He is a very smart football professional, and his sense of humor adds to the interesting program. I wondered initially if it bothers Eli that he can’t get many words in between Peyton’s observations. Then I realized that, being the youngest of famed Saints QB Archie Manning likely led to a fight to be heard among the Manning men, and he is used to it.

I would love to be a fly on the wall at their family Thanksgiving dinner. I envision a setup much like the Reagan Sunday dinner on Blue Bloods, with Archie sitting at the head of the table and his wife Olivia sitting at the other end. The Dallas Cowboys are playing the Denver Broncos in the first game and the Detroit Lions are playing the New York Giants in the second game. (It’s a long dinner. Olivia asked to have the television turned off for once, and was outvoted. Cooper Manning’s son Arch — the next in line for football greatness — was the tie breaking vote.)

Eli is trying to get in a word edgewise between Peyton and his brother Cooper, but is unsuccessful. Finally, as they eat their pumpkin pie and the Giants are on TV, Eli stands up and hollers, “Shut up and give me a chance to talk.”

That might not be the way it goes down. I will tell you, however, that I am enjoying the heck out of the PEYTON and Eli show on ESPN2. I, of course, am a Peyton fan. I love his self-deprecating humor. My biggest laugh came when former Indianapolis punter Pat McAfee (now a sports analyst) came on to the show. The three were talking about Raiders QB Derek Carr’s frustration that when Carr makes the sign for the crowd to be quiet, they continue to yell. (What can I tell you? Raiders) McAfree said when Peyton was the Colts QB, if he made the sign to be quiet, babies stopped crying.

If you haven’t already, check out this simulcast.

Open Your Mouth and Say Ahhh

Posted in Whimsies by

Yesterday, Bill and I had our annual wellness checks. You know, those things we used to call physicals but apparently the correct term these days is wellness check. I think they changed the name because the word physical brings to mind high school P.E. class, and Baby Boomers have no desire to recall those memories. Let’s all be WELL instead.

I learned two important things at yesterday’s physical. 1) The physicians’ assistants who now do our examinations are truly not much older than our eldest granddaughter. I was hoping to draw the long straw and be seen by the doctor who is about my age and complains as much as much as I do about the physical aches and pains that accompany aging. What does that little whippersnapper know about arthritis in wrists and thumbs? She probably understands incontinence about as much as I understand Snapchat. 2) Perhaps related to number 1, my doctor has sold his practice. I saw him in the hall as I walked to the bloodletting room and told him that I was going to wrap my arms around his legs and not let him leave. He promised me he was staying for a couple more years. As you can tell, I really like my doctor. As a result of the change in ownership, I had to fill out a stack of forms that was literally nearly a half-inch thick. I am crabby about filling out forms. And about people on my lawn.

One thing I have noticed about myself over the last few years (and last few wellness checks) is that I no longer feel a need to lie. Therefore, when Little Missy asked me if I drink alcohol, I didn’t hesitate to tell the truth. Previously, I might say something like I might have a glass of wine on special occasions. Now I say with confidence, “Yes, I drink. I have an adult beverage every day of the week. Wanna make something of it?” (Well, I don’t say that last part because I felt it was implied.)

Many feel the worst part of a physical is getting the blood drawn. Not me. I have had so many pokes in every part of my body over the last 10 years that I can practically do it myself. I will admit, however, that the phlebotomist was filling so many tubes with my blood that I asked that she would leave a bit for me. As you can imagine, she was very amused. About as amused as the doctor is when he/she asks Bill if he has any hearing problems, and he answers EVERY SINGLE TIME, “What?” Of course, now when he does it, he’s not kidding.

For me, however, the worst part about a wellness check is fasting for 12 hours prior. That’s why I make sure to have the first appointment of the day. I have always thought that coffee was included in the fasting list. The third thing I learned today is that you can have a cup of coffee before a blood draw as long as you don’t add cream or sugar.

Unfortunately, it was 10 o’clock and I was already crabby by that time.

It appears that Bill and I are both going to live for another year!

Proper Hugs

Posted in Whimsies by

I was 18 years old when I left home for the first time to go to the University of Nebraska. My parents drove me down to Lincoln, Nebraska, a mere hour-and-15 away from my home town, but it felt like the other side of the world. At least I reckon they drove me, since I don’t clearly remember having a heartfelt goodbye at my house, with my mom telling me, “I need a proper hug” ala Michael Oher and his mama in The Blind Side. But I don’t know how I would have gotten to Lincoln otherwise as I didn’t have a car.

I remember it was a Sunday. I opened my dorm room door and met my roommate for the first time. She was a stranger, but not much of one because she had been a cheerleader for another small Catholic school in a town not far from Columbus. A Catholic school that played our Catholic school in football, basketball, and track. She seemed nice, and we liked each other immediately.

That evening, a friend of mine from high school who was also attending the University of Nebraska and I met up to walk around campus. We happened to run into a young man we knew from a neighboring high school, a young man who had been recruited by the football team and was going to play football for NEBRASKA. Let me tell you, in Nebraska, there isn’t much that’s better than that.

We hung for a bit, and then Mr. Football invited us to come see his fraternity house and watch television for a bit.

Sometime around 10:02, I suddenly remembered that my dorm had a curfew, and on Sundays, that curfew was 10 o’clock. It was my first day away from home and I was going to be locked out of my dorm room. What would my roommate — another nice Catholic girl — think?

I was able to slip into the dorm as another student was leaving. I ran to my room and quickly explained my situation to my roommate, who — being a nice Catholic girl — believed me because she knew nice Catholic girls wouldn’t lie.

That’s a long and dumb story, though entirely true. Yesterday Bill and I had a chance to see Addie’s dorm room for the first time. We met her very nice roommate. She showed us where she had her classes and where she met with her advisor. She gave us a tour of where she eats her meals, picks up her mail, and does her laundry. We had a quick breakfast with her and listened as she told us about all of her classes and many of her adventures.

Shockingly, none of her stories included getting locked out of her dorm room her first night of college. The truth is, there is no such thing as a curfew anymore, so it MIGHT have happened to her too if there was.

I asked for a proper hug, and said goodbye until next time.

For a brief time, I felt simpatico with Addie as I remembered the feeling of being a freshman in college, away from home for the first time.

Saturday Smile: Community and Food

Posted in Whimsies by

Our grandson Alastair, a junior at Thomas Jefferson High School, put his head together with some friends, and came up with a way to build student spirit and have some fun at the same time. This article was in the Spartan newspaper, and it makes me proud once again of Alastair. The boy always makes me smile.

I must admit, however, that I’m glad the boys didn’t burn down the school.

Have a great weekend.

Friday Book Whimsy: The Godmothers

Posted in Whimsies by

You probably remember the movie Godfather II in which Michael Corleone tells his brother Fredo, “Nobody goes against the family,” and then has him killed because he had gone against the family. Now imagine four godmothers instead of a godfather, and you are ready to sit down and enjoy The Godmothers, a novel by Camille Aubray.

Filomena, Amie, and Lucy are three very different women with secrets of their own. The three women are strangers to one another, but fall in love with three brothers who, unbeknownst to them, have ties to the New York City mob. Throw in Petrina, their sister-in-law, and you have what amounts to a fearless foursome. They become friends and are godmothers to one another’s children. They live in the same house together, cook meals, take care of each others’ kids, and try to find their place in their new opulent and powerful world.

And just when things are going pretty well, World War II hits America. It becomes incumbent upon the four women to handle mobsters like Lucky Luciano and other real-life mafia bosses, keeping their families safe and trying to successfully get out of a business that most people are unable to escape.

I loved these feisty women, who, despite the wealth and power held by their families, are determined to hold everything together by themselves, and figure out a way to become free of mafia ties. In a world where the word feminism had never been heard, these four women were feminists of sorts.

While I’m not familiar with the ways of the Mob, I’m pretty sure that in real life, these women wouldn’t have survived some of the situations in which they found themselves. However, those situations, and the women’s responses, made for a fun and exciting read. The author threw in some real-life NYC mobsters, and that made the book even more interesting.

This book gets a thumbs up.

Here is a link to the book.

Thursday Thoughts

Posted in Whimsies by

Movin’ On Out
I attempted to put the ziti casserole that I had made for Jen’s birthday into the freezer yesterday morning, and it was a big No Can Do. There wasn’t a space to be had. As I searched frantically for ways to make room, things were falling onto the floor. Voila! I thought. Why don’t I get the message, and use those things that are begging to be used by literally falling at my feet. So I took the two peaches (they were wrapped in plastic) and pulled out five more from the freezer. I used them to make a pie, which I took over to Court and his family. (I sent him a text in which I asked if they were interested in a peach pie, with a resounding YES as the answer.) I then opened the two bags of frozen broccoli that have been waiting to be put into soup, and did exactly that. I made some of my mother’s broccoli soup for my lunch. Every time I make my mom’s broccoli soup, I wonder why I don’t do it more often. It’s very easy, and oh so tasty. The ziti casserole slipped right into my freezer where it will await Jen’s getting well enough to see us. By the way, though it had nothing at all to do with cleaning out my freezer, I also made one of my famous six inch cakes, this time chocolate for Bill…..

No More Lap Sitting
You might recall that Bill’s daughter Heather and our grandson Joseph came for a quick visit a week or so ago. They stopped over at our house so that Heather could say hello to Jen, who was visiting. I wanted her to see Joseph, because she hadn’t seen him for quite some time. She was, as expected, surprised at how much he has grown. The thing is, the boy is only 12, and still wants some cuddling. I couldn’t help but laugh as he crawled onto his mom’s lap……

I think it’s getting close to the days when there will be no more lap sitting.

Happy Birthday Mom
Today is my mother’s birthday. She would be 95 years old today. It’s pretty unlikely that she would have lived to her mid-90s, even if she hadn’t gotten sick at such a young age. There is scarcely a day that goes by that I don’t think about my mother in some respect or another. I’ve long forgotten the sound of her voice, but I haven’t forgotten her mannerisms, her hands, her smile, her sense of humor, or how hard she loved her husband, her kids, and her grandkids. Happy birthday in heaven!

Off We Go
Bill and I travel to our AZ home every fall to open up the house, and check to make sure things are as they should be. My brother keeps a close eye on our house, so we don’t worry to much about the latter. But it is nice to open the windows and cook a bit to get the house feeling like home. It’s dead air when we arrive, but we liven it up pretty quickly. We fly out on Bill’s birthday, which is October 19, and will stay a month, arriving home the week before Thanksgiving.