Thursday Thoughts

We Are Part of the…
You know how songs get stuck in your head? Sometimes I don’t even know why I inexplicably find myself singing a particular song. That happened to me recently. I can’t remember the song, but it was something random. Maybe Who Are You? Anyway, that night I was watching television – probably a football game – and a commercial came on that played the song. I have no memory of having seen that commercial previously, but I have no doubt that’s why the song was in my mind. Well, the song that is currently (and unfortunately) stuck in my mind is Rhythm Nation. Monday night on Dancing With the Stars, the theme was “famous dances.” Tamar Braxton’s performance was to that very tune. The biggest reason I say it is unfortunate is because the only words I can remember are we are part of the rhythm nation, and so that is what I sing over and over. Here is a link to Janet Jackson’s video so that it can be stuck in your head too.

Ouch

No body fat....

No body fat….

The other day we stopped by the McLains to pick up something Dave had brought from the office for Bill. We were enthusiastically greeted by the grandkids. Except for Dagny, who, while she came to say hello, had a sad look on her face. I asked her why the sad face. “I got my flu shot today and it REALLY HURTS.” Let me tell you that Dagny is not a baby about pain. She is tough. I have seen her fall from a tree and get the wind knocked out of her and get back up to play. But she was feeling punk that night. Her side of the story is that the person giving the shot stuck the needle into her and then wiggled it around A LOT. Presuming that is not actually true, the only thing I can figure is that since she has no body fat, it must hurt more. Bill and I, on the other hand, got our shots yesterday and what do you know? It doesn’t hurt. No needle wiggling; lots of body fat.

I’d Do Anything For You Dear
Speaking of flu shots, Bill and I had lunch yesterday with two very good friends, one who was my boss for 15 years. Every year when I would mention that I was getting my flu shot, he would scoff at the notion. “I never get a flu shot, and I never get the flu,” he would tell me. I never argued, because it would have been pointless. And it was true that he was never sick. But when I mentioned that I was going to get a flu shot following lunch, he sheepishly admitted that he had just gotten his very first flu shot. It turns out that for reasons having to do with construction on his house, he is living for a bit with his daughter, son-in-law, and 7-month-old grandson. His daughter informed him that because he is living with the baby, HE WILL GET A FLU SHOT. The thing is, he did it quite willingly. “It was the right thing to do, you know, for the baby,” he told me. I’m telling you, the things we’ll do for our grandkids…..

It’s Beginning to Feel Like Winter
The temperature didn’t get above 48 degrees yesterday, the first really chilly day we’ve had thus far. I turned on my heat for the first time this year. We have had an unseasonably warm fall. I’m grateful that it didn’t get cold enough to snow, but rain began sometime in the night, and it fell most of the day yesterday. It was gray and dreary. I spent much of the day under a blanket, reading. Lovely.

They’re Very Photogenic
We are still going through boxes and boxes of photos. Here is one that makes me laugh each time I look at it…..

rashka family

Doesn’t it have a Night of the Living Deadness to it? I just can’t figure it out. Maybe they were all working in the yard and someone yelled, “Turn around because I’m going to take a picture.” Maybe they were playing freeze tag. Any thoughts?

Craft Time
Sunday afternoon, about the time that I no longer knew how to keep the grandkids entertained, Jll showed up with a craft project. The project consisted of tiny pumpkins, paint, various decorative elements, and a glue gun. They all went to work…

grands working on craft

At least they don’t resemble a remake of Night of the Living Dead.

Ciao!

Christmas in October

I learned early on in my professional career that any time you are unable to be at a meeting, you better brace yourself to be named to something like the Third Floor Ladies’ Restroom Decorating Committee. The same, of course, holds true for being absent from a PTO meeting, as you will undoubtedly be put down for healthy snacks for your little darling’s third grade monthly birthday celebration.

Never miss a meeting.

Bill and I were not present when his brother and sister – Bruce and Kathy – packed up their mom’s two-bedroom apartment a couple of weeks ago as Wilma made her move to a considerably smaller assisted living unit. Friends, Wilma had LOTS OF THINGS. Pretty things. And two-thirds of those pretty things were not going to be able to fit into her new digs.

Bruce asked all of his siblings to tell him specifically what, if anything, they wanted. But at the end of the day, we are going to get what we get. The other day Bruce informed us that a truck was coming our way carrying Wilma’s beautiful living room furniture (which we had agreed to take). But it was with somewhat diabolical amusement that he added, “You weren’t here to defend yourself, so you might have a few surprises in store for you.” Boom. We missed the meeting.

Here’s what our living room looked like yesterday morning prior to the delivery…..

empty living room

Here’s shortly after delivery…..

living room with boxes

And here’s as we began to unpack…..

living rom with boxes unpacked

Since our hearts overflow with gratitude to Bruce and Kathy for all the work they did in a short period of time, far be it from me to complain ONE LITTLE BIT. And, in fact, as we opened the boxes, other than the headache that came creeping forth as I inhaled dust from photos that hadn’t been out of their little box/home for 30 years, I have nothing about which to complain. I have plenty of Ibuprofen. And plenty of photos of people I don’t know. Like this…..

Grandma and Grandpa Rashka

But photos I am delighted to have, like Wilma and Rex’s wedding photo….

wilma rex wedding

We also asked for – and received – a complete bedroom set, including bed frame and a matching chest of drawers and a bureau. Here’s the clincher: The furniture was Bill’s when he was a boy growing up on the south side of Chicago. That means the furniture is somewhere in the neighborhood of 60 years old. Aside from a few nicks, the furniture could have been bought yesterday. Rex and Wilma’s philosophy was two-fold: buy good stuff (much of it was built in North Carolina) and pay cash for it. Well, there was apparently a third rule: No 10-year-olds can mark up the furniture! I can’t believe my grandkids will be sleeping in the same bed that their papa did as a child. Well, new mattress.

As we continue to unpack, I will keep you informed if we find anything of interest. Like Jimmy Hoffa’s body.