A day in the life....

This week I had a flood in the basement and had to deal with wet rugs (so glad I never carpeted, but used small rugs).  I washed them out on the sidewalk with the hose and on the suggestion of a neighbor hung them on the fence while the sun was shining. 

Glad I brought them in, for we were hit by fishflies that night.  Rugs did not dry, either in the sun, or in the basement on the line with a fan.  I took a chance and ran them through the dryer for ten minutes.  Hung them up again.  You only have so long to deal with wet things.  Hopefully the one that seems to be a good sponge will be dry when I go downstairs this morning. 

Recycling has been added to our Township's new trash removal.  Before this the condo only paid for waste pickup.  This new service has enabled me to make quite a pile of old magazines and other items each week to add to the newspapers and by getting rid of plastics and cans in the bin rather than the trash bags, my trash is a lot easier to deal with.  I have a big basket about the size of the recycle bin in the garage where I put items that can go either to the resale shop  that feeds the hungry, or to my friend Audrey, who has her own resale shop in Addison.  They are doing a great trade right now because their prices are right and they are located on a main intersection near the Michigan Nascar Racetrack.  I felt so good because my recycle bin was full, the stuff that filled the basket was all taken by Audrey, except for three binders, which  a Facebook friend wants,  and I had only one big bag of trash to put out.  Now I am starting on this weeks culling.  40 years of teaching produces a lot of stuff.  But I am getting through it and it feels good. 

Sometimes the mundane things can still give joy.  Have a great day. 

I couldn't find a photo of a mayfly, so I put in one of rabbits which are cuter, but still a pest.  We have them too, here on the hacienda. 

Read a story today about a 90 something lady who had a lot of spunk.  She invested in the stock market, and left a lot of money to the small town she lived in.  I gather she did not have much family, but made the most of her life.  The big thing was, she was frugal and industrious.  She was blessed with good health and seemed to be happy.   She cut her own firewood until she was in her nineties and worked as a fish filleter until she was seventy.  There is a video of her at this site, and she appears vibrant and interesting.  She was interested in opening a pool for the children of her community.  This was a no regrets type of older person who blessed her community and those around her.  At least that is the spin I got from it.  I only can hope that many of us can be so blessed with health and purpose even into our old age.  The Bible talks about this. Hope we can live it. 

DKG installation

Why did the red rose turn black when this same photo was taken with a flash?  Strange.  Photo from last night's banquet at Sajo's where I discovered that the fish is very good indeed. and Maria on the other end did not like the pecan encrusted chicken.  I have found it overly sweet too as my appetite has changed.  Banquet was May 18th, 2010.  Just decided I should post something other than Easter here.  Biding my time till seven AM when I can take my tests and get on with my day.  It is a beautiful sunny day here in the neighborhood.  There is a lot on my to do list, getting these photos (19 of them) of the banquet formatted and on their way was one of the first things.  

I shall take my meds, lie back down and listen to my readings for today next.  Then off to breakfast and meetings, shopping, and canceling membership at Snap Fit.  Nothing wrong with the place, except it is dark and full of young hunks, and probably the place where I got the H1-N1 flu last fall.  No place to sit between exercises, and I like the hospital gym better for comradie and senior awareness, and places to sit, and a nicer decor.

Between WW and the gym, I hope to no longer be the largest person in photographs. 

Easter Thoughts

I woke up this morning thinking about of all things  Easter egg hunts.   This was never a part of my childhood memories.  I do remember hunting for our Easter basket, and playing an old 78 rpm plastic record of Gene Autry singing "Here comes Peter Cottontail, hopping down the bunny trail."  Our baskets were old ones that Mama had saved in the basement from previous years and were newly filled with green paper grass, and single color eggs, and candy eggs and chocolate bunnies.  We would eat the jelly beans first and perhaps the candy eggs that were not so tasty, and admire the colored eggs, until Mama collected them and put the in the refrigerator to cool for later deviled eggs.  As I got more sensitive to terms I learned to call these stuffed eggs.  Who wants to think of the devil on Easter?  

The first Easter egg hunt I remember was one that Jean and Ray Atchinson had for their grandchildren at their house in Flint, where my friend Kathy and I had been invited for Easter.  I thought that was an interesting thing to do with eggs and wondered what one would do if the kids did not find all of the eggs that were hidden in and around the house, a tri-level on a large lot. 

Many years later  my nieces and nephews planned a hunt for their children at Woody and Betsy's house.  I had heard of egg hunts before these events, such as the "Annual Easter Egg Hunt" on the White House lawn.  I never heard of filling plastic eggs with candy until my niece's hunts which continue to this day.  Then my church started hosting a community egg hunt, which has gotten bigger and bigger each year.  Yesterday's hunt had beautiful weather, but was held inside, because last year's indoor hunt proved to be very worthwhile.  The last two years the hunt has included face painting and a petting farm display.  

Petting Farms used to be stationary events, with a host of animals that lived where the farm was.  There was one at Canatara Park in Sarnia, much easier for us to get to back in those days prior to terrorist threats that have caused us to make our borders tighter. That farm had goats and beautiful peacocks.  We did not pet the peacocks.  There was also a petting farm at Boblo Island for a while, and I will never forget the time we took the 8th graders to that amusement park on our annual 8th grade end of the year trip.  Another teacher, Sandy Z.  had purchased a small bag of feed and was feeding the goats and other small animals when a Llama tried to get her bag and although she was holding it high over her head, the animal could almost reach it with its long neck.  I am not sure why the petting farm let you wander in the pen with the animals but they did.  I was nearby and being taller was able to take the feed bag away and thus free Sandy from her unwelcome admirer.  To this day, I would bet if the two of us got together and Llama's are mentioned, Sandy would remember and we would have a good laugh.  

Well Today is the Day we celebrate the Resurrection of our Lord, and our choir is singing a dynamite song  a modern arrangement with the theme of how God sent Jesus from His birth to his resurrection with one purpose,  to rescue His prize creation, man, from the chains of sin and death!  The choir doing it here, is not ours.  Hopefully ours will be a little less deadpan, but the song is powerful! Click on the Title to see a choir in the south do this.  

Jesus Saves 

Travis Cottrell Worship leader series, Jesus Saves.

"Freedom's calling Chains are Falling Hope is dawning, bright and new.

Day is breaking, Night is quaking, God is making all things new!

Jesus Saves.

Hear the heart of heaven beating, Jesus Saves, Jesus Saves,

And the Hush of Mercy breathing, Jesus Saves, Jesus Saves,

Hear the host of angels sing, Glory to the newborn King

And the sounding joy repeating, Jesus Saves

See the humblest hearts adore Him, Jesus Saves, Jesus Saves.

And the Wisest bow before Him, Jesus Saves Jesus Saves.

See the Sky alive with Praise, melting darkness in its blaze,

There is light forevermore in Jesus Saves

He will die our burden bearing, Jesus Saves, Jesus Saves.

IT IS DONE! will shout the cross. Christ has paid redemption's cost!

While the empty tomb's declaring Jesus Saves!

Freedom's calling, chains are falling, hope is dawning bright and true.

Day is breaking, night is quaking, God is making all things new.

Jesus Saves.  Jesus Saves!

Oh to Grace how great a debtor, Jesus Saves, Jesus Saves!

Are the saints who shout together, Jesus Saves, Jesus Saves!

Rising up so vast and strong, lifting up salvation's song

The redeemed will sing forever Jesus Saves!

Now since dawn has not dawned yet, and I need to practice, I must sit with the music, play the bad choir singing it and practice hopefully the right notes.

Happy Easter.
HE IS RISEN!  
Because He lives, we can also live! 

Late Middle Age Angst

The Ant...  From Standing in the Rainbow by Fannie Flagg

Before I give this book back to my friend, who now tells me she is going to read it again thanks to my review the last time, I wanted to copy the chapter that really caused me to identify with the book.  

This describes the world as seen through Macky's eyes after he and Norma leave Elmwood Springs MO to move to a gated retirement community in Vero Beach Fla.  While Macky's wife, Norma and her elderly Aunt Elnir settle in just fine,  he misses his old life, and finds that nobody understands or even cares.  He goes into a slump, and his wife advises counseling but Macky seeks counsel of his own.  

I am reminded of the Proverb that says to go to the ant, consider her ways and be wise.  While Macky does not say so in exactly these words.  It is what he did.

"Macky wandered over to Ocean Park, sat on a concrete bench and stared out at the blue water.  The world he had known was gone.  Not only was he living in an alien place, but while he had been busy all these years making a living, someone had changed all the rules.  For all he knew, he might as well have gone to sleep and awakened on the moon.  

When he'd grown up, everybody had more or less agreed to a certain way of living.  A certain standard.  You didn't lie, you didn't cheat or steal, you honored your parents, your word was your bond.  You didn't try to weasel your way out of things.  You married the girl.  You paid your bills.  You took care of your children.  You didn't cuss around girls.  You didn't hit women.  You played by the rules and it was expected that you would be a good sport if you lost.  You kept your house, yard, and yourself clean.

Norma said you have to just swing with it and try not to let it bother you so much.  He wished he could but somehow it seemed this new world was easier for the women to accept and adjust to.  What bothered him and other men his age and older was that the things they had been willing to die for were no longer appreciated.  Everything he had believed in was now the butt of jokes made by a bunch of smarty-assed late-night TV so-called comedians making a salary you could support a small country with.  All he heard was people saying how bad we were, how corrupt we had been, and how terrible white men were.  He had not felt like a bad person.  But just the fact that he was a white man of a certain age, a lot of people he did not know hated him.  He had never knowingly been mean or unfair to another human being in his life.  Now it seems he was the oppressor, responsible for every bad thing that had ever happened in the history of the world.  War, slavery, racism, sexism--he was the enemy and all he had tried to do was live a good and decent life.  History was being rewritten by the minute.  All of his childhood heroes were now being viewed as villains, their lives judged in hindsight by the current fad of political correctness.  Hell, now they were even taking Huckleberry Finn out of libraries, for God's sake.  It was all too confusing.

You never saw people anymore, everything was self-service, everybody behind glass windows.  And you could not get a real person on the phone.  Everywhere you called, a recorded message connected you to another recorded message and then hung up on you.  And everybody was mad and screaming about something.  He did not know which was worse, the radical right or the radical left.  It seemed nobody was in the middle anymore.  We used to be on the right track and then we took a wrong turn but he did not know where.  Was it the dope or television?  Was it having too much that did it?  He had tried to read what the experts thought but they did not know any more than he did.  All he knew for sure was that after the 40's and '50's , when he had been raised the world had flipped over like a giant pancake and everything was backward.  When he was a kid everyone had wanted to be Tarzan; now they all wanted to be the natives.  People were sticking rings in their noses-- even pretty little girls were running around with green hair, their bodies pierced everywhere.

And nobody answered a direct question anymore with a simple yes or no.  Everything was answered with some kind of rhetoric.  And he knew far more than he wanted to know about perfect strangers.  Things people used to be ashamed to talk about now sold books and got them on television.  Murderers were being asked for their autographs and turned inot celebrities. Football, basketball, and baseball player could beat up their wives, take drugs, go to jail, and still stay on the team and make millions. It didn't matter what kind of person you were anymore.  He remembered when a professional athlete was someone to look up to; now the sports page read more like a police blotter.  

And never in a million years would he have dreamed that one day baseball players would be wearing earrings.  Or that some girl would be singing on television in her brassiere.  Life was all so different, with this one having two mommies, and another one two daddies.  

He did not know what to think anymore.  The way it looked to him, the world was not getting better' it was getting worse.  He sat there for about an hour and gazed out at the water, wondering where and when it was all going to end.  

He leaned forward and rested his elows on his knees and stared down at the sandy ground, as if looking for an answer.  After a few minutes he noticed a tiny ant that walked underneath him, struggling to carry what looked like a large piece of potato chip.  It was much too big for him to eat, but he was headed somewhere with it anyhow.  He watched the ant as it kept going and banged into another concrete bench, went around it, crawling over rocks and other obstacles, determined to get back home with his treasure.  It was much too big for him to carry but he did not seem to know it.  

Macky sat there and watched the ant struggle along until it was out of sight and he smiled for the first time in weeks. "Who knows?" he thought. "If he keeps on going, the little son of a bitch might just make it."

This chapter was in a section called The Nineties.  That was the decade of OJ Simpson, and Madonna.  Things have changed a little, and it is the conservatives of whatever race who are being blamed for all of the troubles of the world these days.  But there is a certain identity here.  

I will say that after this chapter, Macky discovered the internet and started interacting with other men who had similar interests.  He became more enjoyable himself, and began to be the doting grandfather and accepted and enjoyed entertaining his family in Florida.  

Another interesting character in the book is Tot Wooten, a woman with a difficult life.  At one point she had a nervous breakdown and withdraws from people.  While people were afraid for her, the time was well used as she evaluated what was really important to her and she was able to move on.  

This is a happy book, but does not mince on life's problems.  Written by the woman who brought us "Fried Green Tomatoes" and "Red Bird in Winter" it gives marvelous insight into everyday life with its problems and resolutions.

A good book: Standing in the Rainbow

Review

Standing in the Rainbow by Fannie Flagg is a very long book, but it has short chapters.  I borrowed it from a friend, so you won't find it listed in my library, and at first I only read it when I had to go to the doctor's office or other places because by the time I got through one chapter, it would be time for my appointment. 

But now I am close to the end, and I realize that I have gotten to know and relate to Fannie Flagg's characters, some of whom were children when I was, and are now new senior citizens.  Their reflections during the 1990's relate to what I have experienced, or what I have seen others experience. 

I heartily recommend it.  But I warn you.  It will take a long time reading, but it is well worth it. 

Time to Blog again Reflections on Joshua

I got wordy on FB, so I copy it here. Hope nobody minds. Saturday in the life of a single retiree.

What is on my mind? That is the Face book question for posting: Here is my answer: Reading & caring about my friends' journeys today. Listening to Fly lady talk about staying on routine to a group of women whose husbands have been recently deployed. (She is such an encourager.) Making coffee upstairs to take into the bath with me. Hazelnut, with Coffee mate today. Pure Ambrosia. Warm suds, wash hair, listen to Marla, sipping creamed hazelnut coffee.

Already have bed made, and did light vacuuming. And listened to the whole book of Joshua on Bible Gateway. Feel good. Our online Devotional journal has us in Judges. I did that earlier, listening as I read and written in the journal. But I was behind, and had missed much of the preceding book, so I set Bible Gateway to read it from chapter 1 to 24, and curled up in bed to listen.

It was still dark out and it was cold. The cat cuddled with me. I noticed that Judges from today repeated some of what Joshua had already said. Sometimes I think a lot of this ancient stuff about the law and conquering the land is like what I would find at the county building where the register of deeds office is, or in a lawyers library full of law books. Yet it is included in the canon of Scripture. So it must be important, and actually there are little nuggets of truth to be gleaned.

Like today when I realized that Israel was not claiming the land of Canaan. They were reclaiming it. Abraham had the original deed, after all, and the famine that caused Jacob and his sons to go to Egypt caused them to abandon it. So actually they were reclaiming it after 400 years absence.

During that time all of the people called the Canaanites had moved in and built cities, and now Israel was reclaiming it. For some reason God did not like the Canaanites and commanded Israel to obliterate them. Sometimes they did. Sometimes they didn't.

I am not so sure I buy that tactic for today, and apparently the Israelites did not either, but that is when the power left them. Not because they were merciful... they made the Canaanites their slaves. But the power left them because after Joshua was gone, they forgot God, and did not obey Him, so God cut short His power.

What lesson for us in international matters? Has not our country turned away from what our forefathers taught us? Have we been turning away from the God of the Bible? Are there alien people trying to take over our land? Only we are not in Egypt, we are right here and it is happening. That is scary. From what I read today, it sounds like we need to individually return to what we have been taught, embrace it, throw out what is not true and move on. At least in our own spirits we shall have peace with God and that is after all the most important thing anyway. If we like Caleb and Joshua live to lead out people again in the ways of righteousness, so be it. If not, We must follow the Lord. Joshua said to the people Choose you this day whom you will serve. But as for me and mine, we shall serve the Lord.

Well I just heard the coffee finish. So I shall leave the computer, pour myself a cup put the speakers on in the hall and proceed with my day. Hope you have a great one too.

Oak Ridge Boys singing preceeded by interview

CLICK ON THE IMAGE ABOVE TO LINK TO MY PERSONAL LIBRARY

I am experimenting with linking my Blog to Library Thing.... Toasty's Mom's Library. a long time ago I decided to use this tool to account for all of my books that I have at home so that when I would go to organize them, I could find them easily. So rather than put them in order, I simply gave them locations based on what shelf in my house they were on. This also helped me in eliminating duplicates, as well as weeding the collection, AND more importantly in finding them to loan. Unfortunately I may have neglected to eliminate them from the list as I have been culling them, but most are still here.

You may browse by clicking on the headings to arrange by author, Title, or other column head, or you can type a key word in the search frame to quickly determine if a book is in the list. If you use this and want a book, give me a call or an email.

Thanks.

Springtime in Michigan

These are photos I have taken today from my walk on the warm side. 70 degree weather. A beautiful day in South East Michigan. A preview of Spring. Wonderful!

This free digital scrapbooking design customized with Smilebox

The Child is Father of the Man

Someone on Facebook suggested that I blog this. I replied that I sometimes WAX Eloquent. So here it is. I was thinking about the passing of life and how it was reflected in the Facebook posts of my friends, who range in age from 13 to 78 years of age and many in between.


Wordsworth poem I learned in school. Was thinking about how your perspective changes as you get older.

Found out WW wrote this when either he or his sister was getting married and he was wondering what the changes would bring to him.

Same poem that starts with My heart leaps up when I behold a rainbow in the sky, so was it when my life began, So is it now I am a man; So be it when I shall grow old, or let me die, the child is father of the man Child is father of the Man; I could wish my days to be Bound each to each by natural piety. 1802.... See More

I used to love WW's references to nature. Not sure what he means by natural piety. Was he a Christian, or a naturalist? Whatever, there is a continuity to life, and it goes by faster than we think it will.

Reading the various posts on my FB page elicited this. I have posts by kids and college students who are interested in crazy jokes, and high school activities. Not too many folk posting about the superbowl tomorrow, wonder why?

Then in the middle of it all a post by a friend whose ninety year old mother just died. And a prayer request by a friend my age for his adult kids. And posts by folk who are older than I am. They are not so pensive. They post jokes, and political statements.

Today I have a birthday party for some folks who have been getting together for years to celebrate each others birthdays. They started when 50 seemed old. Now most if not all have passed that marker.

Facebook is certainly an interesting microcosm of life.

Well, as I put the finishing touches on my rearranged office, and watch the Saturday Today show, and drink my morning coffee with Amaretto coffee mate in it, I think of my day... No one will probably read this far, so I will not worry. I should go down and pick up the laundry I put in at 6:30, and I should start getting ready for the party tonight. Plus I have bills that must be paid.

Seeing snow in Washington DC or Virginia or somewhere on the screen now. So glad it is not here. We had a dusting but I still see green on the lawns out my office windows.

We had these types of snows in other years. I remember one that came right after Christmas vacation, and I got to call my co-workers to tell them the vacation had been extended. But not this year. For the first few years after retirement, I would listen to the school closings and still get a feeling of excitement. Not so much anymore. But I found that even doctors will allow you to miss an appointment if the weather is bad.

Well, enough rambling. Time to go shower, and finish the laundry and take my mega lot of pills and eat and do my glucose tests and make the bed and and and and. Then perhaps to rest a little. What a beautiful day we have been given today. If you are healthy, and alert, the day is something to seize and enjoy and for which to be thankful.

SMILES!

Neat quote about books

I am reading the book: DEWEY, the small-town Library Cat who touched the World by Vicki Myron with Bret Witter.

If you have not read it yet, its a great read. About Iowa, Cats, Libraries, Small Towns. I am not done yet but its better than Marley, in that Dewey Readmore Books touched more lives when he was alive, than Marley possibly did posthumously.

Anyway on page 164 I gleaned this truthful tidbit about the Book as a media type.
"

The covers may be more colorful, the art more expressive, and the type more contemporary, but in general the books look the same as they did in 1982. (when Dewey showed up as a frostbitten kitten in the book drop of the Spencer Public Library)
And that's not going to change. Books have survived television, radio, talking pictures, circulars (early magazines) dailies (early newspapers), Punch and Judy shows, and Shakespeare's plays. They have survived World War II, the Hundred Years' War, the Black Death, and the fall of the Roman Empire. They even survived the Dark Ages, when almost no one could read and each book had to be copied by hand. They aren't going to be killed off by the Internet,

And I can add Kindle, and video games, and all kinds of other things to this quote. It is a very user friendly media. Amazon.com, Barnes and Nobles and other bookstores are thriving. Libraries may not have the circulation statistics that they used to have, and the book drop at the Spencer Public Library is no longer full, because many are using the Internet for research, but books are handy, comfortable and will be around for a long time to come.

Saturday Morning Confusion

Saturday Morning Confusion
the song above by Bobby Russell is funny, and tells about the sacrifices Dad's make to enjoy their families and have their families remember them well. Aside from the reference to a hangover it reminds me of my own Dad. He was a good one.

It has been so long since I posted, I almost forgot how. I posted to another group my sentiments about Dad's Day. Hope you all have a blessed one.

A friend who commented about another friend's weight loss, which was easier, because they are not dealing with meds that halt progress, nevertheless got me thinking that in spite of the pain from trying to walk yesterday, I must get back on program. So I made up a blank spreadsheet based on the one I had been using to track nutrition. Doctor wants me to do 45 carbs a meal. Except for snacks.

When I transfer the data, Excel will take over for my poor math. And poor handwriting, and give me a food diary to present to the doctor. I get the nutritional info from Spark People. com

I will be happy if I can actually start seeing the needle on my scale move.... Downward, that is. It doesn't move at all. Maybe I should take the scale apart and remove the superglue?

Anyway. This is rambling, so my apologies to those on the mailing list. I am watching Charles Stanley In Touch, which is my Sunday Morning luxury. Choir is not singing this morning so I don't have to leave so early to pick up Joyce, the lady down the street in the senior building, who just got up. Stanley is good this morning. He usually is. Why are all of the good preachers old, like me?

This morning, my feet hurt, but everything else is good. My friend in the hospital is going to be released Monday, and sent home with 24 hour aide! Guess the insurance company of the guy who hit her on her bike is going to pay. Glad. She will like being home. Basically her attitude is good, but her bod is not cooperating. Suffice it to say an enema did not work yesterday. My friend who is a nurse is her nurse this weekend. She is in good hands.

I will check on her this afternoon. I hope things will be better and I hope if they are not, that they don't send her home, even though she would like to be home with her stuff and her little kitten. Considering she could have been killed, she is doing very well. Trust this little set back will be changed.

Well. Time to go. If you get to watch In Touch with Charles Stanley later on today on another channel, do it. He is so throrough. God bless you all, especially the Dad's.

Childhood memories fast forwarded

TELEMARKETERS FEB 18, 2009

My mother was probably one of the first of those annoying telephoners now known as a telemarketer. However in the late 1950’s and early 1960’s this was a relatively new phenomenon. In fact in those days the job was known as Telephone Solicitor. Initially she worked out of the home using none other than Ma Bell’s Telephone book and called people to make appointments for such folk as Kirby Vacuum Cleaner salesmen, or awning sales. It was always sales, and the job was good, as my Dad had retired in 1955, and had a limited pension. Mom’s extra income helped with our small family that time-to-time had to rely on surplus foods from the government, which was before the days of food stamps. Sometimes we ate a lot of bean soup, but we got by. Since I had fought with a weight problem most of my adult life, I was surprised when someone who knew me from those junior high school days, referred to me as a “skinny girl.” I had matured earlier than my peers and always had thought I was “fat.”

Well the other day I got one of those annoying calls on a Sunday, and since I do not have caller I.D. on the phone in the basement, I answered it. The poor gentleman on the other end got an earful from me, I am afraid, first for calling on a Sunday, and secondly because he represented Comcast in its never failing effort to make me take up their telephone service. I did tell him that I understood it was his job, and not his fault, but that I did not do business on Sunday, and I considered A T & T’s independent from DTE power lines an asset. While the Electric could go out, and the Cable could thus go out, the phone company seldom went out and when it did, usually it was not at the same time that the electric did so. Thus a separate phone line was a huge asset and I did not intend to disconnect myself from this resource. In fact after the blackout of a few years ago, I went out and purchased a “land line phone” which can work independently of electricity, so I would not be without phone service should another blackout occur. Comcast’s assurance of battery back up, is not insurance enough for me. I felt bad that I had let this young man bear the brunt of my frustration, but he was well prepared and handled his end of things fine, and even has taken my name off their calling list, at least the calling list for Sunday.

Back to my mother’s day. Solicitors were not quite as annoying as computer generated phone calls, or the guy from a third world country, or the person in an office somewhere calling five people at the same time in the hope that one would pick up. My mother progressed from using a normal phone book, to using the City Directory and later on something called Donnelly’s yellow book which listed numbers in our town not by name, but by street name and number, thus making it easier for salespersons to go to appointments. And most people were polite to her including the matron of the county jail, who had a regular listed number. This woman responded to my mother’s pitch by exclaiming, “I don’t need no awnings. I live right here at the jail!”

Later on the sales pitches became more pressing, and as a result, the people on the other end had to become ruder and sometimes just plain hung up. This was long before caller I. D. By the time I was sixteen and old enough to work, sometimes I would go with my mother to some of the makeshift offices her supervisors would set up. One such was in the Harrington Hotel, an old but formerly glamorous hotel in downtown Port Huron. I would imagine that having young girls come to old hotels to visit rooms that salesmen from out of town had rented, was somewhat suspicious, but even then we were still called telephone solicitors. It wasn’t until the 1980’s that I heard someone tell me they were in telemarketing, not soliciting. I guess it was earlier that the term Solicitor fell into ill repute, although it is still used to describe some members of the legal profession. Apparently Lawyers do not mind.

Groundhog Day and other trivial pursuit

GROUNDHOG DAY

Anyone who handles a toothed rodent on a cold day in February ought to have their head examined. Especially if the rodent bites them, as one named Chuck did in Michigan. Nevertheless we were told there are six more weeks of winter. Since this January has had the most snowfall in Michigan (or is it Detroit) since they have been recording such things, I guess six more weeks of this is a bit much. You folks in Florida, best stay put for a while. And my friend Katie who has not gone down there yet, will soon be going and no doubt will be very happy doing so.


FACEBOOK: The person who got me to be aware of Google blogspot, invited me to join Facebook a social networking site, originally set up for college kids. It recently opened to the general public. Much to some of the kids chagrin, Mamas and Papas, Grams and Gramps, and this Auntie are now on board, and enjoying ourselves on it as we check in on what public news our own friends and families have deigned to share. Mike Wendland of the Detroit Free Press wrote a column about this phenomena at about the same time that many of my friends and family were signing up.

Facebook is why I have not made many entries here, but I am presently typing all of this up on MS WORD, and will add it, but not send it out to my mailing list for reasons of length. I kept putting off my newsletters which I have to get to, because my blog entry came first in my priority and needed to updated. So here it is. I shall add graphics later, as I am up quite late typing this and need to get to bed as I have a doctor appointment tomorrow AM.

THIS ‘N THAT

Senior health concerns: Sometimes when we seniors get together it is an organ recital. We are so amazed at how in such a short period as perhaps five or ten years, we could go from an occasional pill to a regular regimen of medicines and vitamins. Or how we now have several doctors whom we regularly visit, whereas in years past we only had one or two, like a dentist, and a GP. Now there are endocrinologists, and Podiatrists, and Chiropractors, Optometrists, or Opthamologists, Acupuncturists, or muscle doctors. It’s a little hard not to talk about these doctors and the procedures and fears that have become such a new portion of our daily lives. Today I had lunch with two friends, both of whom are seeing muscle doctors. I wonder if my frequent visits to the chiropractor and an every other month full body massage at my hair salon has any impact on why I don’t seem to need that particular type of medical care. I feel for my friends.

Mortality: A while back I had the disarming thought that if I live to be 80 years old, the age my father was when he died, I have sixteen years left. That surely gave me pause. And yet, I feel I waste so much time, reading, watching TV, and having fun. Seems like I should be doing something that will contribute more to my final mark on earth. The biggest involves filing and thinning out files and shredding documents. I have had a good week when more than one bag is put at the curb on Thursday nights.

CHRISTIAN MUSIC.: I noticed today on WUFL that many old songs are being set to new music. Music with a beat so intense you could dance to it. Not that the old tunes did not have a beat. All music has a beat. But these have been redone in a tasteful way to appeal I am sure to a new audience. I found that the old tune was retained, and the old words were emphasized, but a rocking beat was inserted. I tried today and was able to sing the old tune along with the new one and it worked. Not perfect for congregational singing but the message of the song (Leaning on the Everlasting Arms) was retained, so that was hopeful. These are good songs and it would be sad if they did not make it through many generations of Christians.

Then my friend Joyce brought an article to my attention from Christianity Today about the loudness of many church worship bands. Since many in my church have taken to wearing earplugs in church, for the part of the service that used to be enjoyable to them, I include the link in this article.

Also yesterday I heard that George Beverly Shea, Billy Graham's long time friend and singer in his crusades in the Fifties through the 1990's, has turned 100 years old. What a heritage and influence he has had on modern day Christians, and our world in general.

MUSIC OF THE SIXTIES AND EXERCISE CLASS
My new exercise class is an hour long. It includes about twenty minutes of varying degrees of aerobics. These aerobics are the equivalent of doing twenty minutes of jumping jacks, but include various dance steps, like the Mambo, the Grapevine, etc. I find my coordination suffers during this part, so it must be good for me.

Irene, the teacher, allows us oldies who can’t do it all to go to the bikes when we have severe pain. I find that each class I can endure a little more before my bike time, so I must be doing better. The second part of the class is much like the exercises we used to do for an hour in our arthritis class, but that class has been cancelled twice because not enough folk signed up. I tried a chair exercise class the first time it was cancelled, but found that I cannot do all of the exercises sitting that these chair folk can do because of my deteriorated disk. I thought that because it hurt it was doing me good, but discovered I started retaining fluid and gaining weight.

So hopefully, this class, Senior Fit, will work for me. It is a lot more enjoyable because there are a lot of folk in it including five very brave men. Once a month the ladies and one man go out to eat lunch after, and that was fun. Today while exercising to the music of Wild Thing, I experienced pain and thought “This is the punishment we get for getting old, or for listening to that precursor or hard rock back in the sixties.” Fleeting thought. The good thing about exercise this way is that the pain only lasts a little while then you switch to exercising some other part of your body that does not hurt as much.

SUPER BOWL. So how about that game? Best one I ever saw. A real “heart stopper’ as a friend said on Facebook. Good game. Wish the Arizona team had won, but then Pittsburgh did set a record. Sixth Superbowl win and first team to do so. It was a great game. Far better than the ads this time and the halftime show was not bad. Music of the 80's Loud but well done. What was that about the choir in the background on the last number Springstein did? Looked like some choir robes I have seen recently.

I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day

And I will get to hear bells this Christmas Day. My friend Cathy wanted to go to a church on Christmas, and since she is part Catholic, and no Evangelical churches are having Christmas Day services, seems like we used to somewhere?, we are going to ST. Margaret's at Ten AM and they do have bells. Very Loud Bells, as I remember. You don't want to be late, or you will really hear the bells, They are right in front. Should be a good service, and more than likely an hour at most. You can get so much done in an hour if you work at it.

Decorating the tree finally. Cathy gave me an ornament for Christmas and I didn't want it to hang there all alone. Obviously I am writing this on Christmas Eve, for I do not think I will have time in the morning. I shall have my traditional coffee or cocoa in the morning by the tree, and then get ready. Should be a GOOD day.


This is the song that has been running through my mind all day. Notice it has the word "Old" in it again! Written by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow during the Civil War in America, it really is good for this day as well.

I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day

I heard the bells on Christmas day
Their old familiar carols play
And mild and sweet the words repeat,

Of peace on earth, good will to men.

I thought how as the day had come,

The belfries of all Christendom
Had roll'd along th' unbroken song
Of peace on earth, good will to men.

And in despair I bow'd my head:
"There is no peace on earth," I said,
"For hate is strong, and mocks the song
Of peace on earth, good will to men."

Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:
"God is not dead, nor doth He sleep;
The wrong shall fail, the right prevail,
With peace on earth, good will to men."

'Til ringing, singing on its way,
The world revolved from night to day,
A voice, a chime, a chant sublime,
Of peace on earth, good will to men!

Carol of the Day

This morning on the Frank Beckman Show, "Santa" came by hologram from the North Pole and kids called in to give their wishes. I have been thinking of the Old Santa song from my childhood. Jolly old St. Nicholas.

Today I am thinking of the word "OLD" as so many of our Christmas celebrations are, and as I am becoming. I hope its very becoming. Always wanted to grow old gracefully, but time will tell if that is to be. Here is today's song. With the word "old" in it.

Jolly Old Saint Nicolas


Jolly old Saint Nicholas,
lean your ear this way!
Don't you tell a single soul
what I'm going to say:
Christmas Eve is coming soon;
now, you dear old man
Whisper what you'll bring to me;
tell me if you can.

When the clock is striking twelve,
when I'm fast asleep
Down the chimney, broad and black,
with your pack you'll creep
All the stockings you will find
hanging in a row
Mine will be the shortest one,
you'll be sure to know

Bobby wants a pair of skates,
Suzy wants a sled
Nellie wants a picture book,
yellow, blue, and red
Now I think I'll leave to you
what to give the rest
Choose for me, dear Santa Claus;
you will know the best. 

Don't hear any music? Press this...

Carol of the Night

It Came Upon the Midnight Clear

It came upon the midnight clear,
That glorious song of old,
From angels bending near the earth,
To touch their harps of gold:
"Peace on the earth, goodwill to men,
From heaven's all-gracious King."
The world in solemn stillness lay,
To hear the angels sing.

Still through the cloven skies they come,
With peaceful wings unfurled,
And still their heavenly music floats

O'er all the weary world;
Above its sad and lowly plains,
They bend on hovering wing,
And ever o'er its Babel sounds
The blessèd angels sing.

Yet with the woes of sin and strife
The world has suffered long;
Beneath the angel-strain have rolled
Two thousand years of wrong;
And man, at war with man, hears not
The love-song which they bring;

O hush the noise, ye men of strife,
And hear the angels sing.

And ye, beneath life's crushing load,
Whose forms are bending low,
Who toil along the climbing way
With painful steps and slow,
Look now! for glad and golden hours
come swiftly on the wing.
O rest beside the weary road,
And hear the angels sing!

For lo!, the days are hastening on,
By prophet bards foretold,
When with the ever-circling years
Comes round the age of gold
When peace shall over all the earth
Its ancient splendors fling,
And the whole world give back the song
Which now the angels sing.

December 23, 2008 Carol

Christmas Carol of the Day

O Holy Night

O holy night, the stars are brightly shining;
It is the night of the dear Savior’s birth!
Long lay the world in sin and error pining,
Till He appeared and the soul felt its worth.
A thrill of hope, the weary soul rejoices,
For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn.
Fall on your knees, O hear the angel voices!
O night divine, O night when Christ was born!
O night, O holy night, O night divine!

Led by the light of faith serenely beaming, With glowing hearts by His cradle we stand.
So led by light of a star sweetly gleaming, Here came the wise men from Orient land.
The King of kings lay thus in lowly manger, In all our trials born to be our Friend!
He knows our need—to our weakness is no stranger.
Behold your King; before Him lowly bend!
Behold your King; before Him lowly bend!

Truly He taught us to love one another; His law is love and His Gospel is peace.
Chains shall He break for the slave is our brother And in His Name all oppression shall cease.
Sweet hymns of joy in grateful chorus raise we, Let all within us praise His holy Name!
Christ is the Lord! O praise His name forever!
His pow’r and glory evermore proclaim!
His pow’r and glory evermore proclaim!

This song is a French Carol, Some Interesting Facts I did not know until this year.

Words: Pla­cide Cap­peau, 1847 (Mi­nuit, chré­tiens, c’est l’heure so­len­nelle); trans­lat­ed from French to Eng­lish by John S. Dwight (1812-1893).

Music: Adolphe C. Adam (1803-1856) (MI­DI, score). This is said to have been the first mu­sic ev­er broad­cast over a ra­dio.

Information from Cyber hymnal as was yesterdays (click on the angel?)
Click here to read whole page and search for other Carols.

Christmas Carol of the day

Hark! The Herald Angels Sing

Hark, the herald angels sing
“Glory to the newborn King;
Peace on earth, and mercy mild,
God and sinners reconciled!”
Joyful, all ye nations rise,
Join the triumph of the skies;
With th’angelic host proclaim,
“Christ is born in Bethlehem!”

Refrain

Hark! the herald angels sing,
“Glory to the newborn King!”

For more on this magnificent song by Charles Wesley
Click on the angel.

http://www.cyberhymnal.org/htm/h/h/a/hhangels.htm

Raindrops are falling on my head..inside

RAIN DROPS ARE FALLING ON MY HEAD.

Raindrops keep fallin' on my head
And just like the guy whose feet are too big for his bed
Nothin' seems to fit
Those raindrops are fallin' on my head, they keep fallin'

But there's one thing I know
The blues they send to meet me won't defeat me
It won't be long till happiness steps up to greet me

Raindrops keep fallin' on my head
But that doesn't mean my eyes will soon be turnin' red
Cryin's not for me
'Cause I'm never gonna stop the rain by complainin'
Because I'm free
Nothin's worryin' me

It was brought to my attention that I have not written here since Thanksgiving. Too busy, what with the choir concert at the beginning of December and trying to avoid the sinus cold that finally caught up with me while visiting the doctor on Friday for a consultation and a flu shot. Well, I got the consultation, but not the shot. Instead I have antibiotics and nasal spray.

Then on Monday I went for my quarterly appointment with my endocrinologist. I discovered that even though she had moved her office further away from me by leaving 13 and Hayes for 17 and Mound, that I now have three doctors located on the 16 Mile Road corridor. Yesterday I visited all three of them! First the endocrinologist, then my primary doctor to figure out a problem with the pharmacy and to pick up some papers for the first doctor. Then to my chiropractor, Dr. Riffel where I had a drive by appointment to make up for the one I had inadvertently missed when I was sick last week. I like that. Three trips on a busy road all condensed into one.

The endo doctor noticed that my legs were swollen. I had never had that happen before. Could be the Actos that I have been taking for several months. Could be related to the stiff left ventricle in my echocardiogram. That could be bad, but we are waiting to see if the condition continues. I notice today that it is going down. Perhaps I dodged a bullet.

This morning as sick as I felt, I had to get myself in order quickly to take care of a household problem. Water dripping from the fan in my second floor bathroom. Hence the title of this entry. Well, the water dripped for a while, probably from the roof and a leaky flashing around the bathroom vent pipe.

The joy of condo living is that the condo association takes care of all outside repairs. Bob was already over here and he removed the cover of the fan, getting wet in the process and exposing a lot of dust and dirt. When I feel a little better I shall clean that up. We also removed the downstairs fan covered. No water, no dust. Interesting. Bob thinks that hairspray and steam from showers in the upstairs bath is the difference.

The building contractor who does our condo work is coming tomorrow afternoon to check out the attic. I will have to empty the closet to give hime room for the ladder. And put Toast in the garage so he doesn’t follow him up the ladder. You know how cats are about high places.