The Littlest Angel; a story of Warren and Samantha

The children's choir walked up the center aisle of the church, tallest ones leading, followed by the smaller ones until they stood at the front of the church, off to the side of the manger scene. Moms, dads and grandparents strained to see their little ones as they prepared to sing the songs that went with the Christmas pageant. The voluminous old choir gowns that passed for angel costumes had seen many pageants over the years.

The littlest angel stood in the front row, her head just reaching the shoulder of the other 'angels' in the choir. Her long locks draped over the shoulder of her white angel gown that was several sizes too big and reached nearly to her shoes. Her brother, a full head and shoulder taller than her, stood on one side, while another boy and girl flanked her on the right and the older children stood behind them. Golden tinsel garland halos encircled their heads.

A chorus of young voices rang clear as they sang the first song. "O come all ye faithful..." sang her brother earnestly. His head nodded as he emphasized each syllable. And with each syllable, his halo dipped further and further across his brow. He reached up to steady it and push it back in place.

The littlest angel sang not a word, but looked silently out at the congregation clutching her old pink kitty, the one concession her mother made as she talked her into joining the other children in the angel choir. Her fist wrapped around it's neck clutching it to her. 'Meow' would not have lived long had he had air in his lungs instead of stuffing. Not with that grip.

The next song began. She moved not a muscle, except her eyes, which shifted from left to right searching out anyone who would come rescue her. They reminded her mother of the eyes on the black and white cat clock she'd seen in cartoons, as they moved back and forth. In the congregation, her grandparents sat grinning proudly from ear to ear as they watched their adorable grandchildren.

The littlest angel looked down at the floor...and her halo slipped over her face and dropped to the ground. Only her head moved as she looked back up. A boy sitting on the step in front of her picked up the garland and passed it to her brother. Matter-of-factly, and oblivious of the people looking on, he dutifully picked up the garland, turned to his sister and began to arrange it on her head. His robe draped over her face, obscuring her from sight, as he patted it into place.

In the congregation, the grandparents sat with hands over their mouths, hiding the laughter as they watched the two, coping with the dilemma of costumes, songs, and propriety. But their shaking shoulders gave them away.

The third song began. The halo slipped down. The littlest angel did not move. The older brother picked it up and turned to his sister. As the rest of the choir sang, they faced each other, she looking up at him trusting him to fix everything. He shaped the garland, arranged it on her head, studied his work, adjusted the halo, and patted it into place, again. Pink kitty dangled limply at her side, but as long as he was there, and her brother took care of her, she could make it through the show.

She spoke not a word...but stood still through the show. And the grandparents wiped their eyes, stilled their shoulders, and beamed at their grandchildren. For what is a Christmas pageant without a littlest angel, and her big brother to look after her.

I Don't Do Sick

I haven't been blogging! Have you missed me? We've gone from Halloween to Christmas and I've barely noticed. Granted, in between there were 2 trips and Thanksgiving, so I have been busy. But writing has really taken a back burner to anything else. My creative skills are lying in a cold frying pan waiting for someone to light the flame.

 

Around the beginning of November, I came down with a bad sore throat and a fever. The doctor ruled out Strep, but put me on an antibiotic and directions for chicken soup, lots of fluids and plenty of rest. The fever subsided and 2 days later, I was feeling perky and energetic, in spite of the cough that seemed to be a residual of the sore throat.

 

3 weeks ago, I lost my voice. That is rare, but this time it was gone for several days. Larry was torn between reveling in the silence and being frustrated as he tried to read my lips. Round 2 at the doctors! More antibiotics and another strep test. (Negative, again). As my voice came back, so did my cough.

 

Week 5 of this nonsense and a third doctor's visit left me with a diagnosis of a sinus infection, a whole regimen of drugs I could take, and more instructions for plenty of fluids and lots of rest. There was only one problem. I felt fine. And it's Christmas. Who gets lots of rest around Christmas?

The common line of thought is that men don't see a doctor when they should. I've started to realize a few truths about Larry and I. 1) Larry is exceptionally good about keeping doctor's appointments, and seeing a doctor when he doesn't feel well. 2) He has no trouble following doctor's orders, for rest, medication, tests, etc. 3) I am not nearly as good as he is.

I grew up with a doctor for a dad, so I will follow their instructions very well, but it is only recently that I realized I am much more reluctant to make an appointment unless I am really feeling badly. I don't get sick very often. The only 'over the counter' drug I take is aspirin or advil.

For weeks people have been telling me to 'get better', 'feel better', 'get lots of rest', plus plenty of advice from others who have found what works for them. Feel Better? I feel fine, mostly,... usually.... and that's the problem. Apparently if I don't have a fever, aches, pains, I don't consider myself sick. A cold is not 'sick'. A sinus infection is not 'sick'. Once the antibiotics kick in and I'm not contagious, I'm not 'sick'. I've been very good about taking the meds. But getting plenty of rest has been a lot trickier.

I'm also realizing that I may 'feel fine', but I'm not at the top of my game. My head is in the clouds, my thoughts are befuddled. I have a hard time planning my day. It has as much to do with the lineup of pills I am taking to combat this sinus infection, as it does the actual sinus infection. Whatever the reason, I'm tired of hearing the inside of my head and living in a fog.

I may be a slow learner, but I'm realizing that I may not be bed-ridden, but I do need to take it easy, rest up, and drink plenty of fluids. I'm learning to go a little slower, and try to push a little less. Even as Christmas looms. I'm really ready to be rid of this. I guess it's time to learn how to 'be' sick.

Final Note: It's taken me a few days to write this. On Friday I suddenly realized the fog had lifted! I still have a week's worth of meds to take, which I will, and I will continue with the fluids and rest recommendations, but currently there is a light at the end of the tunnel....Hopefully it's not an oncoming train.

Halloween--Neither Rain nor sleet....

I'm well aware that Halloween was a couple of weeks ago, but I've been busy with my grandkids, and frankly, blogging takes a back seat to those tykes! However, it is one of my favorite yearly events so I'm catching you up on what went on.

There is a tradition in our neighborhood that on Halloween night those of us participating in the annual candy grab fest open our garage doors or park ourselves at the end of the driveway and await the onslaught of tiny monsters bound and determined to wiggle their hands into the candy basket and scarf off more than "1 candy bar each, please". It is one of the things I love about Halloween here in Western Pennsylvania. My neighbor and I chat across the street during the lull. A police car cruises slowly by, lights flashing, as he keeps an eye on things. And as the kids go from house to house, we can all keep an eye on the little ones. It gives the whole evening a protective, and social air. When the weather is right, it's perfect! Of course, a blizzard can change things, but so far I've been lucky. I have been away the years we have suffered a snowy Halloween.

Next year I will be in Georgia, living in a small neighborhood, at the end of a dark cul-de-sac. I don't expect many trick-or-treaters. This year, I really wanted to be home so I could take part in what will likely be my last neighborhood Halloween. The day before, I brought in my pumpkins and carved them. The candy was opened and put in the candy bowl. I was ready.

The weather was looking ok...but the weather guy was worried about rain. Oct. 31 dawned gray, and cool, but the main rain looked like it would hold off until after trick of treat. Of course, when has the weather ever checked the weather forecast??? Certainly not this time. The rain started in earnest at 4:00. It was not a downpour, but a light steady rain. I looked at my huge bowl of candy. Normally, I only buy candy I like so I don't mind whatever I have left over. This year, of course, I bought whatever was on sale, even if I didn't like it. (A good idea if you are on a diet. I should be...but I'm not.) I stirred up the candy to make sure the sweet tarts were on top and the chocolate was at the bottom.

As 6:00 neared I was determined to be outside on my last Halloween. We have a small  roof over our front door so I put out a chair, added a small table with the candy, and lit the pumpkins. I was ready.

Maggie looked at me, questioningly. All of our dogs have loved Halloween. I shook my head at her. "Sorry girl, there's not enough room out here for you, too," I told her.

I donned a rain coat to keep out the chill air and keep off the splatters and settled down...and waited. It might be a light night tonight, I thought.

The first 2 girls came by and I told them to help themselves. They did. 2 fistfuls of candy disappeared into their bags. I waited some more. My neighbor was holed up in her garage out of the rain. We waved to each other through the dark.

And the kids trickled by...first a couple, then a few more.... and then the steady stream that we usually see. Umbrellas waved uselessly in the air and galoshes splashed through the puddles as tykes in princess slippers joyfully ran down the sidewalk followed by zombies, super heroes, and assorted waifs.

Who was I kidding? Halloween tricksters slowed by a little rain??? I remember a line from my childhood that went: "Neither snow nor rain nor heat nor gloom of night stays these couriers from the swift completion of their appointed rounds." Hmmm....was that for US Mail Carriers, or kids on Halloween? Beats me!

I checked the candy level in the basket as the next herd approached. "1 each please."

Just Call Me Frederick

One of my favorite children's books was Frederick by Lio Lionni. It was a story told like a fable of a field mouse who spent his days absorbing the colors, the feel of the sun, the words that would remind him of sunny days when he and the other mice were holed up underground in the cold, dark winter.

The other mice are annoyed with Frederick because while he is enjoying the present, they are preparing for the future. Of course, when winter comes, Frederick has little food stored up for himself. As the winter drags on, the other mice get bored and restless. That's when Frederick comes through. Frederick starts talking. With words he paints pictures of flowers, sunshine, and warmer days for his friends. The moral of the story is a wise one. There is a need for the gifts each of us provide.

Lately I feel like Frederick. Not the wisdom part...the wistful part. When I walk I can't take my eyes off of the trees along the sidewalk. I seem to stop and photograph everything. One tree will be all green, the next is a shade of red so bright it almost hurts the eyes. The hillsides are a myriad of colors; gold, red, orange, and green. The pear trees haven't begun to change, but the eastern redbud has turned bright yellow and is dropping its leaves.

As I walk I breathe in the air, soak up the sun, drink in the colors and try to embed them all in my brain so that on a cold, gray day in February I will be able to pull them from my memory bank.

Part of me is still the 'worker mouse'. Thankfully, I don't have to worry about gathering nuts for the winter months. Giant Eagle will make sure there is plenty of stuff to make my own comforting soups and stews. But there is still a little work to be done. Monday I mowed the grass while soaking up the blue sky and rust colored hills.

Maggie wandered the yard sniffing the air and the grass for the many smells left by deer, rabbits, and other unseen visitors.

Yesterday I pulled frost-wilted plants from the beds and thinned out the herb garden, breathing in the sun-warmed sage and thyme. Maggie laid beside me in the grass soaking up the sun.

Any excuse to be outside, I thought. Just call us "Frederick".

Gradual Transitions

Years ago my family spent the end of summer in Connecticut at family cabins. The end always came too soon, and I, who relished vacations, never relished the idea of going back to work.

At the time we were living in Florida, which was a minimum 3 day drive for us. I would pack up the kids and the dog and head south. Larry was never able to allot that much time for a vacation, so the pattern was for me to drive the family north, visiting friends on the way. I would pick him up at the Hartford Airport so he could spend a week or 10 days with us, and take him back to the airport so he could fly home. Then we would begin our southern trek, visiting more family and friends.

The first day started out full of wistfulness. The first night and next day was spent at Nanny's catching up. Phase 2 was through Virginia. The kids traveled well, and I sang along on the radio, while they did their best to read or pretend they didn't know me. Day 3 was through the flats of the Carolina's and into Georgia. It was here I started to plan my fall school activities. Book clubs, incentives, bulletin boards, and story programs all came into focus on this particularly flat stretch of the road.

By the time I got home, (after 3 days on the road????) I was ready, not just to be home, but to get back to work!

Fall is like that. Summer fades reluctantly, but slowly. The warm days slow down and turn into gorgeous days. The humidity clears. Afternoon walks become more pleasant as the heat relaxes.
One day you are in shorts, the next in jeans. A hoodie is added in the evenings. The cold front moves through. A sweatshirt is donned for a mid-day walk. The air is brisk and refreshing on your face.

And you realize you have just made the transition from summer to 'almost' winter.

And just like that I realize it is still lovely out. The heat I enjoy is gone, but my pace is quickened when I walk. My coat keeps me warm. Winter will be here soon, but before it gets here there will be more gradual transitions. And when it arrives, I will be ready.

Living in the Moment

The last few weeks have been gorgeous! Blue sky, bright sun, low humidity; a crystal clear day with cool but not cold temperatures. It is Fall. Is there a better time of year? I don't think so. Even so, I have such a hard time welcoming September which signals the end of summer. I love the warm weather and sunshine so much, that when Labor Day comes, I start to regret the end of summer. I see fall as the pre-cursor to winter. I find it really hard to just enjoy it.

That attitude has always bothered me and I've struggled to find a way to deal with it. Worry is something I just don't allow myself to do. It is a waste of time. It ruins the present without doing anything to improve the future. I get that. So when I hesitate to really enjoy the present because 'winter will be here soon' I recognize the uselessness of that attitude. It may be easy to recognize, but that doesn't mean it is easy to conquer.

Each year I struggle to find a way to embrace the coming of fall. Finally this year I 'got' it. I had that AHA moment when the picture finally came into clear focus and I saw the real issue. I realized that for every day I was wishing it was still August, I was missing the fact that it was gorgeous out.

Last year I attacked the problem by listing the 10 things I liked about fall. This year I will do it differently. Today I updated my blog page with just a few of my favorite fall pics. It took me hours to do this because I had so many pictures of fall to sort through. Some old, some new. Clearly I love this season!

One of my favorites though is the single red leaf on the green maple tree. Maggie and I were out for our walk when I saw it. Hmmph! Clearly somebody (or someleaf) is in a hurry! I felt like telling it to take its time and enjoy the moment.

It is so much more fun that way.

The Spider and the Ant

This post deals with a couple of different concepts; predator and prey, and caring and compassion. But in this story, they go together! Trust me.

I went for a walk recently. The weather was hot and the sun was shining. I walked a mile up to the local park and then started the walk home. Usually, I have Maggie with me but she is no longer able to handle the heat or the hills so this time I walked alone. Generally, I feel safe when I walk, but I am always aware that you never know if some crazy will come along. Maggie would have been useless as a protector, but no one else knew that so she always makes me feel better.

Anyway, I was walking up a fairly steep hill towards home. In Florida this hill would be just under the heading of MOUNTAIN, but in Pittsburgh it's pretty small as hills go. I was about half way up when I noticed an ant and a spider. I couldn't tell if the ant had the spider on a thread and was dragging it, or if the spider was following the ant. They were staying just about the same distance as they went across the sidewalk. Curious, I stopped to watch. It was soon apparent that the ant was being followed by the spider. I bent over closer to get a better look. (Maybe my run in with the bees didn't teach me much.) The spider pounced a couple of times, and then jumped back. Eventually, the spider did catch the ant. There was nothing profound in the moment. It was just an interesting moment in nature for me.

Finally, I stood up, wiped the sweat from my eyes and continued up the hill towards home. I heard a car approach from behind me and slow down. (It is just the kind of thing I don't like to hear when I'm walking alone.) Hmmm. Someone wanting directions, I hoped? I heard a woman's voice and I looked over.

"Are you ok?" she asked? " I saw you bent over back there."

I laughed and waved. "I'm fine. I was just watching a spider chase an ant!"

She smiled back. " I saw you when I went past and just wanted to be sure you were ok."

Yep, Just a slightly overweight older lady, red-faced, sweat dripping off her nose, bent double, half-way up a steep hill....watching a spider catch an ant.

And a woman taking a moment from her busy day to make sure everything was ok.

Next Time Try a Zoom Lens

I was sweeping the porch the other day. We had cobwebs under the porch roof and in corners and I wanted to get them out. I spied a large one and went at it, broom flailing as I brought it down. How I missed seeing the large bees nest 6 inches from it, I don't know, but what my eyes missed, my broom hit with a bullseye!

Instantly several bees flew at me...and then went back to the nest. Hmmm. They didn't seem to be particularly aggressive. In fact, as I watched, they worked intently on their nest. It was hard to tell what kind of bee they were so I moved in for a closer look. As a rule bees don't bother me, so I peered at them as they did their thing.

Suddenly, (and I do mean SUDDENLY!) 3 bees flew at me. One stung me so fast I never saw him hit me or take off. I just felt it.

Oh yeah, I felt it! It's been years since I've had a bee sting. Well I remember now. They hurt! It starts out stinging and then really gets to stinging. Over the next few minutes the sting gets hotter and hotter . I came inside, grabbed an ice cube, and put it on the sting while I Googled how to remove a stinger. I had heard the new rules but couldn't remember what they were.

As a reminder they are:

1. No tweezers.
2. Use a credit card or needle and gently scrape the stinger off.
3. Apply ice to numb the pain, or apply meat tenderizer to the sting.

And 4...This wasn't on Google, but maybe it should be for idiots like me. Use a zoom lens if you want to see bees up close!

Bambi on Ice

Over Labor Day weekend we visited our new Georgia home and this time we took Maggie. She will most likely thank us to never bring her again.

The Georgia house is charming, but inside the floors are mostly wood, with just carpeted bedrooms. 4 broad steps lead up to the porch. When we arrived, Maggie was thrilled to get out of the car. Traveling is no longer easy for her. Wobbly at first, she took her time to explore the grounds. After several minutes she headed for the porch. (I will add here, she doesn't like the steps to our deck in Pittsburgh because they are slippery and she finds them hard to climb.) Only 4 steps, these looked like a piece of cake.

Wrong. Poor girl. She attempted them at a run, but her back feet forgot to follow. I helped her up the steps. She took the porch around the house and then went in the front door. Click, click, click... you could hear every step she took. Hard to believe I had her nails trimmed just the other day!

Inside, I placed her bed on the living room floor and her blanket on the carpet in the bedroom. She started to get a feel for things as she explored the main floor.

Although she had her bed to sleep on, she still had trouble getting up. If her feet hung off the edge she would end up sliding every time she tried to stand. She was like Bambi on ice. Right foot forward, back she slides. Going outside wasn't much better. She eyed the steps and balked. Kind of like a mule...4 feet planted. Every ounce of her body said "I'm not going down those steps"!

That's pretty much how it went. I had to help her up and down the steps and she opted to sleep in the bedroom on the carpeting. We added safety strips to the steps which helped a little, and slowly, she got used to the floors. By the end of the weekend, she was navigating things pretty well. However, I bet if we never took her back there, it would be fine with her.

Poor Bambi.

Preparing For the Next Stage

For the last 3 years, Larry and I have been on a quest to find our retirement home. Larry will retire next spring and as much as I love Pittsburgh, we will not remain there. We will retire in Georgia, specifically the north Georgia mountains. We will be close to Tennessee as well as North Carolina. In fact, our first focal point was Murphy, NC.

People ask us Why Georgia? The short answer is that we've traveled a lot and we've always liked the area. The longer answer gets more involved and less succinct. We've given up trying to live close to anyone. Our families are so far-flung that living near the kids was only doable if you chose one kid. But I think a lot of the answer has to do with the fact that while we've lived many places over the years, it was always dictated by where work was. This time we had a chance to choose a place just because we liked it.

Initially we were looking to see what kind of housing was available and the price range. The more we looked the more we zeroed in on what really suited us. Last fall I spent one day with our realtor. In 12 hours we drove 300 miles and looked at 10 homes, none of which worked for us. It was exhausting!

This summer we found it. It was a charming 'cabin in the woods', albeit a really nice 'cabin'! The entire house is wrapped in a large, covered porch. The house even came with a hammock, a porch swing and 4 porch rockers just beckoning us to come sit, rock, and sip a glass of iced tea. When you find what you are looking for you grab it, and we did.

While the place is lightly landscaped and has plenty of trees, I think we will be adding a couple that have a special place in our heart. There is a fenced in back yard that is just right for a little apple tree to take root. There are plenty of deer, but I think it will be well-protected. And I'm sure it will thrive once it gets out of that pot and can spread its roots.

Another tree will take root there too. When my daughter's best friend, Liz, married Tim in an outdoor ceremony in North Carolina, the wedding guests were each given a Norfolk Pine seedling as party favors. We brought our seedlings home and nurtured them. The seedlings thrived and many years later they have grown into a lovely potted tree. I think it is time to return it to the wild as it was intended.

Retirement is still several months away, but we are ready for it to arrive. When it does, this little place will be the perfect place for a pine tree, an apple tree, and us to stretch our roots, and grow.

An Apple Tree Update

A few years ago I posted a story about an apple tree that almost wasn't. It was a tough little tree, determined to grow in spite of our worst efforts and the deer seeking it out. Finally rescued, it has grown each year.

You can read the original story posted on April 27, 2011. http://viewfromanemptynest-connie.blogspot.com/2011/04/little-apple-tree-true-story-with-happy.html


Last year I posted an update in which the little tree presented it's first apple.

Unfortunately for the tree, it is still in a pot on our deck. The deer can't get it, but a pot greatly limits its growth. On top of that, we store it in the garage all winter. If we left it on the porch the roots would freeze without the protection of Mother Earth. If we brought it in the house the temperature would be too warm to give it an adequate dormant period. So the garage it is.

The garage offers some limitations. The biggest problem is height. The section of our garage where the tree is kept has a low ceiling and it periodically needs to be cut back so the branches aren't damaged when we bring it in for the winter. Fortunately, apple trees are not tall trees to begin with and they probably benefit from pruning. Larry and I have a running discussion as to who has more knowledge about the proper care and pruning of plants. (Truth is--neither of us have much of a clue, but we are both convinced we know better!)

Last winter Larry got ready to trim the tree.

Me: You'd better talk to someone. You don't know anything about apple trees.
Him: I'm fine. It will be fine.
Me: You do a very good job trimming most trees, but you don't know anything about apple trees. (I'm not a very creative arguer--is there such a word? Just stick to the point and ram it home. That's my fightin' style.)

Resorting to the Internet we found a couple of good pages on how to prune an apple tree and Larry read them over. Then he proceeded to prune.

Another difference between us is that when I start to trim a bush, I'll take off 6 inches. He'll go for a foot or two. There was little left when he finished. (At least that's how I saw it.)

This spring when we brought it out into the sun, I wondered if any leaves would grow on the stubby limbs. No fear. This is a hardy tree! (Remember it's grim beginning?) Branches sprouted, leaves grew and then there were blossoms. Lots of blossoms!! I think Larry secretly hoped for a full crop.

The blossoms turned to apples. Most of the tiny apples dried up and disappeared, but a couple persevered. And here it is. August. Apple Pickin' Time.

Yep. We had TWO lovely apples to pick! That's a 100% increase over last years crop!

I have to admit, I think these are two gorgeous apples!

Best of all, they were two yummy apples!

Next year there will be a big change for the little tree. We plan to plant it. I have a spot all picked out. It's not in Pennsylvania, but that's a whole other post.

August--The Dog Days of -- SCHOOL?

I was talking to my daughter the other day and I asked her when she went back to work? She is a teacher so I was checking to see when school started. "We went back today," she answered.

Now, I grew up in Pennsylvania and school ALWAYS started the Thursday after Labor Day. To this day that is a sacred date for me. Any deviance from that date bothers me. I should also add that I taught in Florida for 17 years and both of my children attended school there. I am very familiar with school starting in August. There were a few years when I had to go back to work at the end of July!

And I HATED IT!!!! I still do! When she told me she had already gone back to work and the kids would be starting school on August 12, it was like a physical kick in my stomach. UGH! YUCK! EW!

I could hear the amusement in her voice as she heard my reaction. I know she was thinking, "What does it matter to you? You're retired." True, but so what? I still hate it.

August is for summer. It is the last hurrah for vacationers. The last chance for picnics. The sun still sets at 9:00. Why should kids have to be in bed by 8:00?

I know that in places like Florida the weather in August is just as hot as September. I know hurricane season really gets going in September. I remember well, the September of 2004 when 3 hurricanes in a row closed schools repeatedly and suddenly we were looking at makeup dates. It probably is just as good that we had a month of school in before the constant interruptions. (Ha. Truthfully, I'm just being Politically Correct on that one. Would it make any difference if school had been in session 10 days? Not really.)

There are other concerns as well. A lot of northern families I know take vacations in August. Half my neighborhood is empty right now with families getting in those final trips before September days roll around. After all, when the weather turns hot and sultry where better to be than at the beach or in the mountains?

When we lived in Florida it was difficult finding a time to get together when my family always had to be home by the beginning of August. We have aunts, uncles and cousins from up and down the east coast, including Canada, and we gathered in Connecticut. Some of them were in school until late June. August was the traditional month to get together. But my family would be heading back to school.

All this is just Stuff, I know. In the long run everything works out so while I may vent about it, it doesn't change anything. Teachers and kids do just fine going to school in August. I survived just fine when I did it.

But each year, when in early August I hear people talking about school starting 'next week', it still feels like a kick in the gut to me!

So, to my buddies in Florida, it may not be as big a deal to you, who grew up there, than it was for me, but today you have my sympathies! Just remember, vacation may be over, but there is still 6 weeks left of summer, so PARTY ON! (on the weekends.) I'll be sitting on the deck, book in one hand and screwdriver in the other! (NO! Not the handy tool, silly. The one with Florida Sunshine!) This one's for you!

I'm Too Old for This! -- Part 3 of the Family Visit

It started innocently enough. 2 months ago my daughter asked if I'd like to keep her two kids for 5 days when she and her husband came for a visit this summer. They planned to visit for 2 weeks, but the first week she wanted to travel with her husband while he worked in Canada if I would keep the kids. Truthfully, I may be crazy, but I was excited! I couldn't wait!

Then the day drew closer. I started thinking about what toys I needed, how I would keep them busy, what activities we could do. There is the vision... order, activities, control...

And then there is reality...

Staying with my grandkids during the day is one thing, but when I realize I'm responsible for them while their parents are away I'm always a little apprehensive. Willing, looking forward to it, Sure! But aware of the responsibility!

Day 1: 6:00am--everyone is up to say bye to Mom and Dad. Terror, Apprehension, Excitement, Happy--how do you feel all four at once? I do.

Paberry laughs as he sees me scope out the PBS and Nick Jr. Schedule. When is Curious George on??? A MOST important question. Answer: 8:00am and 3:30pm. Followed by Sesame Street.
I am armed with knowledge.

11:00am--I take the kids to Fun For All, the local arcade, and ball pit. Warren disappears as soon as his shoes are off. Samantha is too little to climb up into the gigantic climbing house, and I'm too old to go up with her. (I don't bend well enough anymore.) "Emily" (9?) offers to help Sam up to the next level. Off they go.

Watching them play and searching for arcade games Warren can do is fun. I don't get to do 'grandma' stuff like this very often. But I'm not naïve. It's day 1. This is as much an adventure for them as it is for me. And adventures can wear off when things become routine.

Warren and Samantha help me make dinner. We mix and roll meatballs, and then make muffins. Dinner will be a hit as long as there are muffins!

7:00pm--Was it the muffins? These kids are crazy! Warren has been 'building towns' all over the house with blocks. He and Samantha are zooming everywhere, singing (loudly), building 'Maggie gates' with pillows. transforming orderly into.....? "Vision" is gone. "Reality" is here.

Dinner, bath, bed....the day has gone smoothly, but I am tired. I grab a shower and then sink into the couch. Ahh, shhh....do you hear that? Peace!

Day 2: 6:00am--REALLY?? I have to get up now? If I want to get up before the munchkins roll out of bed and are off and running, the answer is yes. Brushing my teeth I can barely see myself in the mirror. I'm an 8am person. Not 6.

11:00am--We've made Play Doh. The sky is gray but the weather man has promised it will clear this afternoon. I desperately need to mow the grass and most of the week has rain in the forecast. I sit down to check the weather. The local forecast is about to come on. The couch is comfy. ....

"Granberry? Are you asleep?"

OOPs. I open one eye and give a little nod to Warren. The local forecast has just ended!  Thank goodness for DVR. I replay the forecast. If I can get the energy, I'll be able to mow while Samantha naps. But for now, I can't budge off the couch. Yep. It's only been 30 hours and already I'm beat. 3 more days to go.

9:00pm--"OW."

That's all I can say. My feet hurt, my back is so tight it is hard to stand up. I have no idea why I feel so tired. I've mowed the grass for the last 6 years so that shouldn't be it. But whatever it is, I hurt. Sam is in bed, but not asleep. Warren just went to bed and crashed. My shower is done.

I'm done. OW.

Day 3: 6:00am.--Here we go again. I'm amazed. Advil kicked in while I slept and this morning I feel fine!

It's sunny but storms are on the way. We hit the playground first thing in the morning (after I remembered to slather on their sunscreen--what a good grandma am I!) and then came home for lunch. Sam napped. I did errands. I think I'm hitting my stride.

Last night, as I brushed Sam's hair, she leaned against me and said "I like you Granberry." Ahh, no sweeter words for a long-distance grandma!

Today, she loves me enough to start ignoring me. She ran away when I called her, 3 times! (The kids are hitting their stride, too.) Both learned what 'quiet time' meant, and Sam discovered Granberry can be tough, as I took away her two pink kitties for not listening to me.

We may have reached an understanding as manners were now on high display during dinner. But the after dinner crazy time continues! I haven't mastered the art of settling them down to sleep.

Day 4: 6:00am--Sleep! Please!! A bad storm last night had me awake for over an hour. With every thunder clap I had to check and see if it woke up the kids. They, of course, slept through the storm, but were up by 6:30.

Instantly they were into everything and each other. Larry just looked, shook his head, and said, "It looks like you're in for a rough one."

8:00am--Curious George--better known as Granberry's Magic Moment-- is on. Ah, Quiet. The key is to keep them focused. As soon as George is over, we head outside to ride bikes. (Take advantage of sun when it's here! It's supposed to rain in the afternoon.)

10:00am.--Kids are at the kitchen table with the Activity Box. Do-A-Dots, paper, foam, markers for Warren. Sam has a tub of mixed dried beans she is measuring, scooping, and pouring. I've vacuumed, done 2 loads of wash, and the dishwasher is finishing up. Peace reigns. I'm feeling pretty good about myself!

10:45am.--I was only out of the room for 3 minutes! I swear! (Maybe 4, but still!!!) I checked something on the computer and came back to see 2 cups of dried beans scattered on the kitchen floor! "WHAT happened?" I asked. Warren ducks his head busily working on his project.

"I have no idea," he says.

I ask Sam. "I don't know." she answers innocently.

11:30am--Sam is almost finished picking up all the beans. Gotta give it to her, she can stick to a task.

2:00pm--Sam is down for a nap. I carry the last load of laundry upstairs to put away. Maggie follows me. We both eye our beds. I lay down for a sec. Maggie does the same.

It feels so good, but I have visions of a police officer at the door asking me why the "5 year old is 3 blocks down near the busy highway". Inspired, I drag myself downstairs, but I have a new understanding for news stories when 'the mother was sleeping while her toddler wandered away from the house." I'm too old for this, I think to myself.

How, I wonder, do all those young moms have time to hop on Facebook and post pictures of their adorable kids? I've barely had time to look at my iPhone, and I fall asleep watching the weather!

Day 5: 6:00am--Waking up is a little easier. Is it becoming more natural, or is it because I know today is the last day I will have to be up before the two little ones? Tonight, their mom and dad are coming home. Tomorrow, Jan will be the one to wake up early! YEA!!! That sounds pretty good!

4:00pm--We are on our way to Chambersburg to see Nanny. The rest of the family will meet us there for a mini-family reunion. I can't wait to see everyone!

Jan calls to let me know that they are stuck in LaGuardia Airport for the 2nd time this week. They don't know when they will get in. A series of phone calls ensue as they explore options. "Mom, you're sounding a little panicky! Ready to get rid of two little kids?" she asks?

OK...here comes confession time. Up to this point this post was written several weeks ago while I was taking care of the kids.

Jan, Mike and Larry finally made it to Chambersburg at 11:30pm. I was sitting in a dark hotel room while my two angels slept waiting for their mommy and daddy.

With the passage of time I can look back with some perspective. I am no longer exhausted. My ears are no longer ringing. A happy surprise....I lost 2 pounds that week )and it has stayed off!) My house has returned to normal...a house for 2 and not for 10. Already I miss everyone. Yes, I am too old for this.

But I bet I'd do it again in a heartbeat.

Kitchen Nightmares--and a First Aid Tip

This post could be entitled "From 2-10" Part 2. Or maybe I should call it "The Summer Visit, Continued". There will be a 3rd installment...just a warning!

As I mentioned in my last post about our visit with everyone, each of us had a breaking point at some point in the week, but I can honestly say none of the meltdowns had to do with each other. Rather circumstances and events tended to lead to emotional overload. One case in point...one couple was traveling and got stuck in an airport on TWO occasions, due to flight delays, for a total of 12 hours. Not a happy time!

My meltdown came towards the end of the week. It was one of those days when I had planned some activities to do with the kids, but things hadn't gone quite to plan. First, I wanted to make garden  'stepping stones' with my grandchildren. I followed the directions on the Stepping Stone box, but all I ended up with was a watery mess. Yikes! Fortunately, I had bought an extra box of mix. That box had a chart calculating how much water to use with different amounts of mix. I was able to figure out my mistake and salvaged the first stepping stone. When I made the second one I tried to adjust the water. It too, seemed to be too watery. Thankfully my son-in-law was able to help me salvage that one. Third time was the charm so eventually 3 of the grandkids were able to make their own stepping stone.

My second project was to make Pigs in a Blanket with my grandson. We've done this many times before, so I saw it as a nice Kid/Grandma moment. But the weather was great outside, and the kid wanted to ride bikes instead! I mean really! Where is his sense of nostalgia? Doesn't he want to make memories? Apparently, 5 year-olds are more into living in the moment, than the past or the future. Go figure.

So I proceeded to make the "Pigs" myself. Just like the Little Red Hen.

I wrapped sixteen hot dogs in cheese and crescent rolls and popped them in the oven. I mixed the mac and cheese and heated up the green beans. This was to be a kid-friendly meal. I checked the dogs in the oven. The dough just didn't seem to be browning. I waited and checked again. Still very pale and soft. I bumped up the heat.

We have a convection oven so I decided if I moved the dogs below the fan level they would bake faster. I donned a mitt, opened the oven door, grasped the baking sheet and pulled it out. Then disaster hit. As I tipped it towards the lower shelf gravity took over. The partially cooked dogs began to slide. I grabbed the baking sheet with my other (oops...ungloved) hand.... and Yelped!!! I dropped the pan as 16 dogs wrapped in cheese and crescent rolls slid to a heap in the bottom of the oven.

Instantly 2 daughters, one son-in-law, one dog and one 1 year-old were at my side.

Of course the dog and the 1 year-old weren't helping the situation, so... Janice grabbed the dog, Dave grabbed the baby, Jen grabbed my Pampered Chef Pizza lifters and started scooping the heap of dogs back onto the baking sheet. And I held my hand under cold running water, eyes squeezed shut, with my mind a blank. A complete blank. When I did let thoughts in it was along the lines of .....

"Dinner is gone. ... what are we going to eat? .... I can't do this anymore..... what are we going to eat?.... mac and cheese, green beans... that's it....I don't care....someone ELSE can cook....I want to go out.... my hand hurts......I don't care...." Somewhere in the background I remember voices saying 'did you burn your hand?" (uh-huh) Are you ok? (uh-uh) ....

Finally I walked out. I went to the garage to the Beer fridge and grabbed a Miller lite. Larry was there. You know, how, in an instant, you can tell from a certain stance, things aren't good? He has seen the stance before.

"Um... I heard some commotion... everything ok?" he tentatively asks. Followed by a LOOK by me.

Sniff, sniff, "I just dropped 16 Pigs in a blanket in the bottom of the oven. (sniff, sniff,) I don't know what you are going to eat. I don't care. Mac and cheese and Green beans. That's all you have. I'm DONE," I declared.

Here is where the family pulls together and everything works out. I sat in a corner, moped, pouted, sniffed, and drank my beer. Jen cleaned up the oven as much as she could.

Larry figured out how to finish the dogs so they were edible. Janice kept the dog at bay and finished setting the table. 15 minutes later we all sat down at the table.

And as I looked around the table I saw that everyone had a plate full of mac and cheese, green beans AND a perfectly cooked Pig in a Blanket, thanks to a great family who picked me up when I melted into a complete puddle.

Oh yes, my burned hand? I never got a blister! So I will end this post with your Public Service Announcement and First Aid Tip. I ran cold water over my hand for at least 5 minutes and then wrapped a wet paper towel around my hand for about 2 hours. I kept the towel wet, and stuck ice cubes in every so often just to keep it moist. When the burning sensation ceased, I stopped using the wet paper towel. The next morning my fingers tingled when I touched the burned area, but they never blistered. 2 days later, I couldn't tell where the burn was. And 2 weeks later, my finger tips peeled where the skin had burned. But I never blistered. Amazing! (Incidentally, I've treated a sun burn the same way...by wearing a wet t-shirt until the burning feeling stops. It really diminishes the effects of the burn.)

One more tip: Jen wisely kept the oven door OPEN until the oven was cold. After dinner I was able to scrape up the cheese and bread completely, even the melted cheese that had dripped into the door hinges. A wet sponge finished the clean up. The next time we used the oven there wasn't even a smell of burned food! I would have closed the door, but my daughter's cooler head saved a big mess.

From 2 to 10--It's a Houseful!

Recently we just survived a week when the kids and grand kids descended for their annual visit. It’s not only a chance to see the ‘old folks’, it is also a chance for them to get together, and get the cousins together. Let’s face it, who else has a house that will squeeze in 10 people? Us.

Empty Nesters become accustomed to the peace and quiet of just two. Breakfast isn’t hurried. No one is dashing off to meet the school bus, or wailing when their hair is brushed. Dinners also take on a different vibe. Are we eating out, or in? Is this my night with the girls, or his night with the guys?

And the dinner conversation? No more "Stop playing with your food...eat your peas...just 3 more bites and then you can have some pie. LEAVE your brother ALONE!" Yes. Peace and Quiet.

So you can imagine the adjustment when we went from 2 to 10. Exhaustion? Oh yeah!

1.      Constant Commotion, and not just from the 4 grandkids that never slowed down.

2.      Laundry. From a couple loads a week to a couple of loads every day.

3.      Dishes. The poor dishwasher was on call 24/7. Better it than ME!

4.      Groceries. Humph. Let’s just say I plan pretty well and usually hit the store once a week. With 10 we went every day. It’s seems as soon as I came in with the milk someone was draining the OJ. Once I went just to pick up a prescription and it seemed so strange not to be carrying out 3 bags that I picked up a few things…just in case. (And we needed it.)

5.      Meltdowns. (Yes we had them.) One person actually, may have kept her cool the whole week…a masterful show of patience if you ask me. But although we get along well, invariably one of us would reach a breaking point when something pushed us over the edge. And when it did, the rest of us gave them some space.

6.      Ahh, Space. We have a large house, but baby gates confined us to a relatively small space where the kids and the clutter reigned, and where we could keep a safe eye on the littlest one. The adults could escape a few at a time, but some of us had to remain behind to supervise. As for sleeping? It’s great that kids think sleeping bags are cool, but trust me. 4 to a room in the summer is not cool.

7.      Stuff to Do. We tried to plan days to go and days to chill. However, Kids Don’t Chill! So on the Stay-at-home days the kitchen table and picnic table resembled the arts and crafts cabin at camp. Foam crafts, play-doh, paper, crayons, markers, scissors and glue covered the table…and little pieces dotted the floor. A momentary pause from the usual run, chase, tickle, shriek, happy play of 3 youngun’s. The baby never gave us any respite as he was always on the move picking up, dumping out, pulling apart whatever he could get his tiny, but quite capable little hands on. Tracking the remote control was fun. Who has it... one of the dads....or Zachary?

8.      Actually, TV was rarely on. Who needed more noise? But in moments of desperation, a round of Curious George brought instant quiet. The kids could be in another room, but the moment they heard, "George!" they bounded into the room and struck a pose reminiscent of Freeze Tag, then slowly sank to the ground. Mesmerized. Ahhh.....peace.

9.      Great Neighbors. During the first few days someone would knock on the door or send an email. “Here are a couple of bikes your grandsons can ride.” “I have some bubbles your grandkids can play with.” Great neighbors are awesome. (Smart neighbors recognize the benefit of keeping the visiting kids from running wild in the neighborhood.)  

What was the best part? Hmm…1 year old Zachary’s wide eyes, smile, nod of the head and happy Uh-Huh! when asked if he wanted some strawberries. (I tried to get it on video, to no avail. Truly, too cute.)…  2 year old Samantha’s giggle and laugh… 5 year olds--Warren and Nicholas--playing as if they were best buds instead of once a year pals…And one of my very favorites—4 little ones, hands folded, heads bowed, (but eyes glancing around at everyone), and voices chiming in as we all said grace at dinner.

Then again, maybe it was the evenings, after the kids were in bed, when we collapsed on the couch staring vacantly at one another. After a few minutes, Jen would ask “Anyone want to play a game?”. 6 pairs of eyes would shift towards the clock and we’d realize it was already passed our bedtime and the kids would be up before the sun.

Maybe when the kids are older, Jen.

So Many Posts, So Little Time

The great quote about retirement is "I'm so busy now, I don't know how I had time to work!" When I first retired, that statement was not for me! I was burned out. I was ready for a break from responsibility and obligation. I spent the first year avoiding commitment. I remember one day I felt it was time to get involved somewhere. I decided to go to the local elementary school to volunteer. This was my world. I would fit in easily. I would find a niche, and a purpose. As I approached the intersection leading to the school, I reached for the turn signal. Instead, my foot hit the gas and I went through the intersection! My body said...."NO! Not yet." (It's not the first time my mind said one thing and my feet said something else. Apparently they connect to the brain on conflicting signal paths and with me...my body wins!)

I've been retired for 6 years now, and all that has changed. I became more involved but I carefully selected activities that fit my personality and would be rewarding. I tried not to get too busy.
That saying still didn't seem to pertain to me....until now. If you've noticed, my blogging has slowed up a good bit. I find it harder and harder to get to my laptop.

There are a couple of truths here. In the winter I am 1) home bound, 2) alone, as Larry is traveling 3) stuck in a house with only the threat of using the snowblower to offer outdoor adventure. I have little to write about. There is so little happening.

But summer is just the opposite! We travel a lot in spring, so there I am with much to share and little time to share it. After the spring travels, comes the yard work catch up. During the long days I'm outside, and reluctant to head up to my indoor room where the computer awaits. I love summer, but it means long hours of neglect for my computer.

The annuals have been planted and the mulching is almost over. The church flea market (a one week event that consumes a lot of time) is done. Family will be here for a couple of weeks. When all is said and done, I will probably have lots of potential blog posts.

Until then, be patient and check back. I will share stories, observations, and thoughts, even if they are weeks removed from the catalyst that started them.

"Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends"

NOTE: This blog post is delayed. I always write first, then wait and edit later. Generally, I don't think well 'on my feet'. I like to double check my words as well as my spelling! Anyway, I wrote this shortly after the first Oklahoma tornado. I've had a busy couple of weeks and am just getting back to my blog. I've re-read it and I feel that although it is delayed, it is still relevant, especially as storms wrack our countries interior and hurricane season begins in the south.  As we hear stories of protection, may we always remember that "greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends". John 15:13 

 

It's happened again. Another tragedy, this time from Mother Nature, has hit a community. Unfortunately, school was in session and 2 schools took direct hits. 7 children died.

Horrible.

Heartbreaking.

Awful.

Really? Are there words that equate to the feelings we feel as we hear the news?

Not in my vocabulary.

When I first heard the news about the tornado that ripped apart Moore, Oklahoma I checked the time and hoped that school had been dismissed. But it hadn't. Photos later showed the school buses lined up ready to load those children and deliver them home.

Often schools are a safe haven; a place that can be locked down or secured. But they are also a place where hundreds of children are targets if that place is the target of a direct hit. What if they had been on the buses? How many would have been lost then? The sad reality is losing 7 children (or 9) may have been a true blessing. What if all those buses had been on the road when that tornado hit? How many would have been lost then?

Sorry. I'm rambling now. "What if's" are usually irrelevant questions. They are vehicles to divert our attention from reality to possibility.

Here is my reality. This tragedy is hitting home for me, because I was a teacher. I remember the annual tornado drills that we did on April 1st, (or maybe March 1st?) the designated beginning of Tornado season.

As I listen to the news reports I find myself repeatedly tearing up as I hear teachers recount their experiences. Last winter we heard the horrific account of a gunman on a rampage in an elementary school in Sandy Hook. That story hit home for me as I listened to the ways teachers tried to protect their students. I could relate on one level. But this story is a little different. I have visions of tornado drills with students crouched on the floor, covering their heads in a protective position, waiting "interminably" for the final call from the office that the 'threat' had passed and we could get up.

The children in Oklahoma never heard that. They heard a roaring noise, crashing sounds, pitch black, and teachers yelling "IT'S ALMOST OVER! IT'S ALMOST OVER!" at the top of their lungs as they crouched OVER their students.

Recently I saw a photo of a bird with it's wings spread out protectively over it's babies. It's a beautiful picture. And in the midst of that raging black turmoil, those teachers would have displayed an equally protective vision.

"Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends."

Your child's teacher may have never displayed this amount of caring for his or her's class. Pray he or she NEVER has too. But know in your heart, that most of them will do whatever is necessary to protect and calm your child should an emergency ever arrive.

I love teachers. They are among today's heroes, because, in front of TEACHING your child, Protecting your child will always be first on their list.

Snags and Snafus and Schedules

I can't believe it's been a month since my last blog entry! It is springtime and that is a busy travel time for Larry and I. Since it is his slow time at work, we take advantage of it and GO! So far we have worked in a cruise and a visit to North Carolina. More on those events in later posts. The other news centers around the home front.

Some people see spring cleaning as the time to dust, vacuum and wash everything in a room. We ended up just redoing the room. Actually, we have two major projects going on and although I tried to space them out, as construction projects go, all scheduled plans went Ker-Flooey and everyone descended at the same time! Roofers, cabinet makers, granite installers...that's what was buzzing at our house.

Project 1: A new roof. Last summer our neighborhood was hit with a violent hail storm that left much of us with damage to cars, roofs, and siding. For us, it was just roof damage since, thankfully, our cars were safely tucked away in the garage.

Now that the weather is warmer, roofers are busy in the neighborhood.

Project 2: A Kitchen Upgrade

Since we've lived in the house one of my biggest complaints was about the kitchen layout. The design plan was awkward and chopped up. When one of my neighbors told me about the great deal she got for a granite upgrade I started thinking seriously about making some changes. After some discussion Larry and I agreed to remove the kitchen desk, add some cabinets and much needed counter space, and convert to granite.

Now some wise man, (or perhaps comedian) once said "If you want to see God laugh, tell Him your plans". The same could be said of contractors and construction workers. I carefully scheduled the cabinet makers, the granite installers, the plumber, and the roofers. Each one had their own day, and the kitchen would be out of service for only one night. Easy peasy! I was ready.

Well, I may have been ready, but everyone else? Not so much. The Cabinets due Monday, came on Tuesday. The granite due Wednesday didn't show. Somehow they had the wrong date on their calendar. Would it be ok if they came on Saturday? (Well....sure...why not). Call the plumber! (He was due Thursday.) The plumber couldn't reschedule until the next Tuesday. (So much for having the kitchen out of commission only one night!) Friday was roofing day. We were up early, and we waited. And  waited. The shingles arrived mid-morning, but no roofers. We waited some more. 3:00 pm we got the phone call. They were running behind. They would be there on Saturday.

Saturday dawned bright and sunny, with the birds singing outside the bedroom window. By 9am we wouldn't have heard a tornado with the all the racket up on the roof. Inside, the kitchen was being dismantled. Outside, the lawn was buried under tarps, shingles, and....well you get the picture. People driving by on the road had to dodge work trucks where the granite guys had set up shop. Maggie tried to find a quiet hole for her nap and the rest of us just tried to hunker down wherever we could.

Today it is all done. The roofers are gone and the new roof looks great. The plumber finally made it so we once again have running water and a functioning dishwasher. The kitchen is complete. And Wow! What a difference! I love it. We have never been the kind of people to remodel or even do periodic upgrades on our homes. But this time we were right. Not only does this kitchen really fit the house, it enhances the house.

 

 

Of course, as in all good planning, there were a few snags. When the cabinets were put in, I realized the one thing I had missed (believe me...I spent weeks trying to make sure I had everything covered) was that one electrical outlet was too low and would be covered up by the backsplash. Then when the granite was delayed I was annoyed....until I realized the bright side. Thanks to that scheduling snafu, I had time to have the outlet moved.

Sometimes life just works out right, even when it doesn't follow your schedule. (I'm pretty sure there is a Biblical truth somewhere in there.)

Oops... How NOT to Reheat Pizza!

This post is actually an email from a friend of mine. I won't embellish. Just read her story and enjoy, learn... and again, enjoy. We all learn something new every day, don't we?

Dear ladies.....I am sharing this with you as I wish one of you had shared it with me....Bill and I were out today running errands and stopped to pick up a large cheese pizza at our favorite pizzaria! We got home too early for dinner and so just left the pizza sitting peacefully on the stove in its red and green box.  We knew that later we would be glad we had dinner "in the bag" so to speak.  A few hours ago, the little dinner bell rang in our heads so I went to the kitchen to heat up the pizza.  So far so good.

I opened the box and the pizza looked a little lame to me.  The cuts, all 12 of them, were a little indistinguishable and the bottom was very pale.  Now I have a very large round pizza pan but that pale bottom just had me going.  I just knew putting it right on the rack would brown up that bottom (sounds like excerpts from "Fifty Shades of Gray!) and my pizza would be done to perfection.  So with visions of Tuscany in my head, I put that 12 inch cheese pizza right on the rack in that 435 degree oven and shut the door!  Do you see where this is going???? 

I thought about 5 minutes would do it so I set the timer and went back to the golf tournament. At the ding, down to the kitchen I go to be greeted by a cloud of smoke.  A little cheese had dripped off the edge of the pizza onto the bottom of the oven and was just blacking away down there.  I scraped it up and shut the door again. The top just wasn't quite bubbly enough for me. Another few minutes should do it.  Poured the Pepsi and the cabernet, got out the salads and delivered them to the den. Back down now for the "baked to perfection" pizza.  

Not so fast...the whole damn thing had collapsed thru the rack onto the bottom of the 435 degree oven. To make a short story shorter, I salvaged enough for dinner and left the rest hanging by its cheese in the oven.  I just spent the last 45 minutes working on the racks and the bottom of the oven and even in the drawer as the cheese somehow oozed its was down there while I was attempting a rescue. Right now the self-clean is engaged. You'll be glad to know the crust had browned up quite nicely.

Thanks Bev, for sharing this hilarious story of what NOT to do! I hope your oven is now bright and shiny...and your next pizza is 'ready to eat'.

 

April 1

April 1. Does the weather man believe in April Fool's Day? Probably. Let's face it. He probably is more aware of the temperamental nature of a spring day than even I am, but today seems to be the perfect example. It dawned gray and cold. It is opening day for baseball and in Pittsburgh the Pirates were ready to warm up. The players couldn't get on the field because the field crew wanted to cover it up expecting a 'wintry mix'. Sure enough, there was a white-out of snow. The snow passed and as the national anthem was played, the sun came out. April Fool's.

Right now it is cold, but sunny and bright. A beautiful spring day. And so I will celebrate the subtle changes that demonstrates Spring's potential.

1. I got so excited when I noticed greenhouses, empty from January on, were beginning to show signs of activity. Piles of mulch are being delivered. Trees and bushes are visible inside as if they have been hibernating under ground and suddenly sprouted up. As for me, I can't wait until I can start planting my herb garden!

2. The first harbinger of spring, the crocus, has finally decided it is safe to come out. They are about a month late. The daffodils, on the other hand, have been up since December as we fluctuated between mild days and sub-zero ones. They couldn't figure out WHAT was going on. But now, little yellow buds are showing just above the ground. When they think it is safe the flowers will hopefully rise up above their protective leaves and grace us with their cheerful yellow faces. (Can't wait!)

3. I haven't seen a tractor out, but I have noticed a few fields have been plowed, so obviously the farmers are getting ready. Yea!

4. The robins finally showed up, and so have the red-winged black birds. (I love those cheerful little red and yellow epaulets on their wings.) The sparrows are going crazy and the finches have come en masse. And then there is the big annual event I have learned to wait for. My house finch pair have returned to my front door and built their nest in my wreath. Last I checked there were 2 eggs in the nest. By now I am sure there are more. Last year they raised 5 babies in a bowl about the size of the palm of my hand. Amazing! House finches are one of my favorite birds. They sing the most cheerful tunes. In the summer, when the windows are open, they wake me up at 6:00 in the morning, but right now, I welcome the warble.

Even with all this bird activity, I finally saw and heard a flock of geese honking their way north. Good news!!

Yes. I do believe we are on the cusp of spring, even if that cusp comes with another inch or two of the white stuff.

However, I am waiting for one final sign. The Super-Shedder has not begun to let go of her winter coat. By now I am usually pulling my hair out over all the fur I have to clean up daily. Instead it remains firmly attached.

When she turns into a tufted pillow I will know for certain that Spring is here and summer is on the way.