Liz Logic

***** !! 50 !! *****

 OMG! -  Is it true?

               How time flew -

               Been 50 years

               Since we said "I DO"

               To start a life

               as husband and wife!

Yep - 'tis true.  Last Thursday our son and DIL came from Maine to surprise us and be part of a long weekend celebration of the fact.  (Our other Maine son and family wanted to be here too but they were certainly with us in spirit).  Our daughter (now just 3 miles away) had told us we were booked for the 19th but had kept us guessing as for what.

It kind of went like this.  Eat - visit - Amish country - Eat, Eat, Eat buffet - chocolate factory - visit - Sat. Surprise of "Duck" tour of  the historical Philly and then into the Delaware River for more history from the waterfront - Eat - joy of being in traffic jam out of Philly - dinner at a local Italian restaurant where the table was almost not big enough to hold the family sized bowls of yum - EAT> EAT> EAT - huge cake and serenade from fellow diners - EAT!  Quiet Sunday - visits.

Our children managed somehow to put together a collection of photographs to chronicle our 50 year journey.  Found out our daughter had rifled through our house on occasion to look for pictorial evidence of the half century trip.  Cringe - through the closets.  My DIL took them and others they had and designed a layout that was sent off to create a one of a kind bound book.  This is a gift we shall treasure forever.  

Yep, if we managed this far - just think what wonderful things are ahead.

                    

Speaking of history - You know you are getting old(er) when we know so many answers on the quiz show Millionaire simply because we lived through them.  Too bad the contestants can't hear us yelling at the TV set!

Just saw this attached to an e-mail.  DO WHAT YOU LIKE - LIKE WHAT YOU DO.  LIFE IS TOO SHORT FOR ANYTHING ELSE. 

 

 

 

~~NO TIME TO BLEED~~

First you will need a bit of background.  We are nearing our tenth month in our new home in Pennsylvania.  You may have been able to tell that we have settled in well and are enjoying our new style of life.   There are so many things to keep us involved and since I have always had a tendency to jump in quickly, it is easy for me to get in over my head. I'm trying to reign in my busy-ness.  My guardian angels have been working overtime keeping me in check.  You know something?  A 71 year old body finds it harder to tread water than a 51 year old one making it easier to go over your head.  (Bet I'm not the only one to figure that out - right?)  Too bad I always get reminded the hard way and probably one of the reasons I ended up in the hospital a month ago.

Now to what brought me to this blog.  One of the activities I am enjoying is singing in a group that  entertains our own residents and travels to entertain at other senior complexes.  (We also manage to entertain each other once a week at rehearsal.)  A few days ago I was riding with our activities director to a performance.  As usual she had been running  in circles trying to keep her 18 senior entertainers straight.  As she hopped in her car she banged her finger.  Oh, dear - it started to bleed.  She quickly started the car and said "I have no time to bleed".

Oh, my.  Did that ever strike me as a perfect motto for most of the busy ladies I have known as well as myself.  It was a catalyst to memories of also being so stretched that there was no time to bleed. 

Ah, yes - the days of three babies, then toddlers, then school and activities that got became more intensive with each grade, Sunday School, Scouts, Football, majorettes, etc.  In the meantime a myriad of part time and then full time jobs.  Church and community committees and activities.  With the youngest child in third grade, squeezed in four full time years in college.  (Loved studying with the children.)  Degrees in Education and Art.  Taught school, designed needlework, developed new line of yarn as a colorist, opened shop, managed office of electronics firm, ETC.  This just skims the adventures but have you guessed that I could not make up my mind what I wanted to be when I grew up.  Who had time to bleed?  Not I. 

Then one day got a graphic piece from my daughter that read - "Just when a woman thinks her work is done - she becomes a grandmother." A new phase begins.  Retirement - ya sure.  This started a new business as a crafter - sold my watercolors, photography and painted more cows than I ever saw in any pasture.  Designed a plaque that read "Retirement is a Full Time Job".  Then a stint in antiques as group dealer.  (Hubby and I still enjoy auctions and I still dabble on line with eBay.) Became environmental activist for two major issues - one of which led to testifying at state house and led to change in law. Then we became caregivers for three seniors - his mother, my mother and aunt - two living to their late 90's.  Whew - getting tired.  

Did I mention - WIFE.  Been at that job for 50 years this coming weekend.

Now bleeding can be physical but also mental as stress takes a toll.  Our activities director experienced both at the same instant.  While running us around to sing, setting and controlling the sound system, and singing herself - she had a pile of work ahead working out kinks in our yearly golf tournament fundraiser - scheduling activities for Oct. and working on the calendar.  I see all the dedicated staff dealing with the same, each within their own job description.  (By the way - new skill(?) this AM as a hole watcher at the tournament.  Would love to have been there when someone managed a hole in one.) 

 Everyday life stress does nothing to help form a tourniquet to relieve a bleed.  It takes a good break from the day to day pace.  Like sitting in solitude under a tree reading your favorite author and sipping on whatever suits your fancy.  (Still trying to fulfill that dream - some days lately almost making it.)

By the way.  Have finally figured what I want to be when I grow up.  None of the above.  I want to write.  Have dabbled with it most of my life but it took this long for me to see what has been there all along.  Have published poetry.  Now am working on a dream - have started my novel.  Have been researching for nearly 3 years and now have first 49,000 words on the laptop.  Now I hope my guardian angels will keep me focused so I can find the time.  In the meantime, I must be careful not to bleed. 

  

  

09-09-09

Happy 09-09-09 everyone.  That will be something I will not be able to say again in my lifetime unless some pill comes up to give you another 100 years.  Don't think I'd like that idea.  I have a hard enough keeping up with today's electronics - imagine what it would be like in 2109.

9 has always been  my favorite number.  I think this started with my teen heart throb and baseball hero - Ted Williams - Boston Red Sox #09.I would spend many games at Fenway Park just waiting for him to hit another over the green monster.  If he had not served his country as a pilot in WWII and was away from the game during his time of duty - I don't think anyone could have caught up with his record.  Not even the steroid filled cheaters.

The number 9 has woven it's course through the tapestry of my life.  I was married 09-19-59 (yep - nearing 50 years but that's another blog).  9 and 19 were the addresses of most of our homes since.  The last home in Maine was 11 and then the town clerk said it could have been 9 - did I want it changed.  Let it go, I thought - I don't need the number on the house - it is in my heart.

I'm not a good flyer and taking off on one trip was just after a thunderstorm went through, I noticed we were on runway 9 - I felt much better.  And then we landed on runway 19.  Nice.   

I was reminded today that our granddaughter was baby number 9 in China when she was adopted.  Now her favorite number is 9.  I know it will work well for her.

So happy 09-09-09 everyone.  I'm sure next year, someone will be pleased with 10-10-10.

FRIED BUTTER UPDATE - The man that introduced fried butter treats in Texas won first place for the best new fair food.  Who am I to judge.  This was voted by the fair goers.  In Iraq, you could tell the voters by the purple stained finger.  Guess in Texas it would be by the greasy fingers. 

THEY'RE B-A-A-C-K!

Last February I wrote about the Canadian geese heading north from the field next to us.  Wee, they're back.  At first I asked just in the world they were doing here as it seems they only left yesterday but in taking a look, they have been gone around 6 months.

Wow - What have I done with my last 6 months.  Certainly not what they have.

They migrate app. 2,500 miles each way so to my figuring, they in are in the midst of a 5000 mile excursion.  They travel about 50 mph and 500-600 miles per day.  Once back in their nesting grounds in Canada, they mated, built nests, the ladies laid a clutch of an average to 5 to 7 eggs - each one taking a day to lay (ouch - I can relate).  Once incubated the fuzzy goslings take a couple days to break their way free from their shell (I know a few 20-30 year old humans that have not broken from their shells yet).  The fuzzy little ones can swim right away but are far from flying - that takes some coaching from Mom and Pop.  In the meantime, the parents are taking 3-4 weeks to moult and rid themselves of last years outfit to grow new flying feathers.  Then they eat their way into an extra layer of fat to keep them strong for their escape from the northern winters to warmer climates.  During this time, they teach the new family members the migration paths in hope to ingrain this info into their little brains like a built in GPS unit. 

My granddaughter understands the idea of migration to keep the family in areas where they can find food and a warmer place to stay for the winter.  But, she wondered why do many of the flocks stop in our field (in truth the field that belongs to the farmer next door who has cattle that don't mind sharing once in awhile).

I told her they travel like her grandparents.  We drive until dusk and then pull into the next motel we see and hope there isn't some homecoming game going on in the area.  You see, we don't like to travel after dusk anymore and I think that because the lead goose in the "V" formation is usually older, he (or she) doesn't like to fly after dark either.  They come flying over our little patio honking to beat the band.  I don't know if they are yelling greetings to other groups resting for the night or the others are asking- how come it took you so long.  No matter what, they settle in and first thing in the morning they are off again and the field is clear for the cattle to enjoy for the day.  Really cool - I think.  Of course, I don't seem to think like the average grandma. 

Anyway - I find it fascinating that barring any bad run ins with predators (the worst being man) - these wonderful birds can live for 30 years.  Whew - that's about 150,000 miles of flying.  I wonder if geese have use of any form of Ben-Gay?

Remember that you can now subscribe to my blog at the top right of my home page and will be notified of any new ramblings.        

Deep Fried What ?!!!!?

This is not what I had planned to write about tonight but I can't put this item off.  On Aug. 9th I wrote about chocolate dipped bacon being a new fair food treat.  Just about when I thought vendors had gone as far as they could - up pops a news item yesterday.  In Texas, one of the fair items offered this year - DEEP FRIED BUTTER.  No, I did not write that incorrectly - I meant BUTTER.  Apparently they are taking butter and adding various flavors (herb I hope), shaping it and putting on a batter before freezing them.  When a customer comes by and says goody, a quick and easy way to clog my arteries, the vendor drops the battered, flavored, butter into the deep fryer and treats you to deep fried butter.

I had put this news on the back burner for now but after just seeing this item on a TV news program, I felt it should be written about now.  Here again in Texas, a man is taking chunks of butter and rapping it in pastry and then doing a quick deep fry.  Yummy.  Sounds like a more gourmet way to eat your saturated fats.  Pastry sounds a bit more up scale than plain old batter. 

Aug. 9th I wondered if they could go any further in fatty fair food.  This time I will not do any wondering.  Perhaps deep fried lard.  Or how about chocolate dipped chucks of salt pork?

If you read the former blog, you will see I have no problems with fair season treats - in moderation and totally enjoyed.  But really - DEEP FRIED BUTTER?