Thursday Thoughts

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’…..


Thursday Thoughts

Shingles: They’re Not Just On Roofs Anymore
The other evening, we had our friends John and Carol over for dinner. John came down with a case of shingles three or four weeks ago, and has been suffering greatly. Our dinner was one of the first times he had been out of their house for anything other than doctors’ appointments. We had a nice time with them, but it hurt my heart to see him in such pain. The next day, I called my doctor’s office to see about getting the new shingles vaccine. They told me their office was on back order, and suggested Walgreen’s. Bill and I hightailed it to our neighborhood Walgreen’s, where we both got the first of what will eventually be two shingles vaccines……

Bill is awaiting his shingles vaccine, part I. While he puts up with Parkinson’s disease with nary a complaint, shots are not his friend.

The shot hurt — as shots do — but shingles is worse. This vaccine is purported to be 90 percent effective, much better than the old vaccine. Over 50? Run, don’t walk, to get your shot!

My Dust Bowl
Last Sunday, I spent much of the day watching the Ken Burns episodes — two of them — about the Dust Bowl. Fascinating stuff. But I have been involved in my own dust bowl. For nearly the 25 years we have lived in this house, we have had book shelves in our bedroom. Bill installed them to house some of my literally hundreds of hardback and paperback books. Hardback and paperback books that I no longer read since I read exclusively on the Kindle on the iPad. And since we are preparing to have new carpeting installed, now seemed like a good time to remove them, thereby enlarging our bedroom significantly. The thing is, my housekeeping skills are more Erma Bombeck than Martha Stewart, so the shelves (and books) are extremely dusty. I have powered through, a little at a time, but I feel like my lungs are filled with dust. Perhaps I’m imagining this since I watched those Ken Burns episodes, but I think I might be coming down with dust pneumonia!…..

A little at a time., but I’m getting close!

Picture Not Perfect
And the biggest problem I’m running into is the photos. OMG! The pictures. The pictures. One whole shelf was full of photo albums ranging from college days to the time when we all stopped printing photos and inserting them into albums. What do I do with those photos? I have pictures of Court as a baby, Court as a pre-teen, Court as a teenager, Court in college, Bill and I at every stage of our life. I have photos of Mom and Dad ranging from the 1960s until their respective deaths. I seem unable to throw them away. So instead, I’m taking them out of frames (if they are framed), and putting them all in an envelope. When I die, Allen, David, Heather, and Court will all get together and perhaps they will take a gander at the photos. And one of them will say to the other, “Who in the hell is that woman with Mom (or Kris)?” Because they won’t know my college friends. Heck, I can’t remember most of their names. But see above. I am unable to throw them away. I love each and every picture of each and every grandchild I have. And, by the way, I seem to have more of our oldest — Addie — than anyone else. Go figure.

Kitchen Plates
And because I’ve been promising, here is my display of the plates I purchased while at The Mercantile in Pawhuska, OK, a couple of weeks ago. It’s hard to tell from the photo because I couldn’t take a long shot due to a light hanging in the way. But I will tell you that I am extremely pleased with the result. That wall — which has been bare for two years — finally looks complete…..

Happy Anniversary to Us
Bill and I celebrated our 26th wedding anniversary yesterday. I sent a text message to all of my bridesmaids apologizing once again for my dress choice for them. I believe they have all forgiven me…..

And here we are, 26 years later…..