Journal: Christmas Preparations

 

Last Tuesday, it was 28° by noon, and actually felt warmer – 36° – on account of a very light southerly breeze and the sun peeking through the clouds.

I ingratiate myself to the neighbor cats by giving them a tidbit or two of cheese when they stroll past.  If I tap on the window when a couple of them are sauntering down the front sidewalk, they whip around and come dashing up on the porch, standing up to peer in the windows, meowing and telling me to “hurry with the cheese, pleeze!”

Teensy used to hear us open a little carton of yogurt, come running, and sit patiently (or otherwise), waiting until we were done, sometimes reaching up to pat on our legs or arms to remind us, “You could hurry a bit, you know.” 

When we were done, we’d let him lick the carton out.

That’s one of the little things I miss about my cats.

That evening, Hannah sent a video of her Christmas tree, complete with the Danbury Mint Christmas Story ornaments I’d given her two or three years ago.  These ornaments used to be Janice’s; Loren had given them to her.  Aren’t they pretty?  They have Bible verses on the backs.  There were three boxes, and each were supposed to hold a dozen, all different; but one box only had 9.  I looked for more online – and discovered that anyone who wanted to sell them was mighty proud of them – they were selling for about $20 apiece.  I see that there are some for sale this year for about $10 apiece.  I should get a few more for Hannah; she’s the one who got the box of 9.  Okay, I talked me into it.  I am now actively bidding on a set of four.

For supper that night, I baked battered pollock, and with it we had mixed vegetables, cottage cheese, Irish brown bread, mango juice, and Chobani Flip strawberry cheesecake yogurt.

I wrapped this stack of quilts that day.  

Since I had a shortage of quilt-sized boxes, and one or two humongous boxes, I wrapped four of the Jackson boys’ quilts in one of those gigantic boxes – and then I couldn’t carry it!  😯😄  Larry had to lug it from the bed where I’d wrapped it out into the music room for me.

He brought up the satin tree skirt I made several years ago (I was surprised he remembered it) and lopped it over a few boxes.  During the next two days, I added more gifts to the pile; and there we were then, all decorated for Christmas.  😂

I washed the lace curtains that hang in the music room, along with some towels.  Those curtains need to be hung back up, but I need Larry to help me, as I can’t reach to rehang the rod, even standing on a stepstool.

I retired to my recliner that night, and set about writing the Winding Thread for my quilting group – a weekly topic for discussion.

I found a membership request pending.  On the request page, it says, “Please tell us why you wish to join our group.  Answer must be more than ‘yes’ or ‘okay’, or you will be declined.” 

The person’s answer?  “Yes.”  🙄

My Winding Thread topic last week concerned Murphy’s Law.

Murphy’s Law is this:  “Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong.”  Attributed to U.S. aerospace engineer Edward A. Murphy, Jr., it is often used humorously to explain misfortune, but its original intent was a call for engineering excellence by anticipating and correcting potential problems before they occur.

The law originated in the late 1940s at Edwards Air Force Base.  Captain Edward A. Murphy, Jr., allegedly blamed technicians for a malfunctioning component, stating, “If there’s any way they can do it wrong, they will.”

So I asked, “Have you found a ‘Murphy’s Law in Quilting’?” 

I have.  Though I love all parts of quilting, from the designing right to that final stitch, I do find that very first seam of a project particularly exciting.  There is no logical reason for this, since almost e.v.e.r.y...s.i.n.g.l.e...t.i.m.e, I make that first seam by sewing right side to wrong side.  I look at it, grimace, rip out the seam, and proceed to d.o...i.t...a.g.a.i.n.  Aarrgghh!

But... it’s a tradition!  I used to do it when I made clothing, too.  Murphy has programmed me well.  😏🙃🥴😄

Wednesday morning, I swept the floor, got out my Christmas notebook and played several songs, and then rehung the bird feeders.  As I was hooking the carabiner on one feeder onto the rebar, a tiny little white-breasted nuthatch landed right next to my hand!  He tipped his tiny head and looked right up into my eyes.  How do they know to do that?  Amazing.

If I had more time, I’d sit on the deck with sunflower seeds in my hand, and see if any would eat from my hand.  They often will do that.  Photographer Jocelyn Anderson gets the neatest videos of this:  Hand of Snacks (Photo from Cornell Lab of Ornithology)

Before heading back downstairs to my gift-wrapping room, I laminated all the new Medicare cards.  I was having such fun, I even laminated my old Social Security card.

Then off I went to the gift-wrapping room.

It was cold that day.  I was glad for the little space heater in that basement room.

Victoria sent me an audio clip of little Arnold, 1 ½, saying, “I love ’ou, gamma!” 

That warmed my heart more than the little heater had warmed my feet, I do believe!  💖

A friend posted this painting:

I immediately wrote back, “Her machine is backwards!”

My friend retorted, “No, no.  She’s British.”  😂

“Also,” I continued, not to be deterred, “that little table with the odd teapot and cup is sitting right on the edge of her quilt.  When she goes to reposition her quilt, she’s going to upend the little table, teapot, cup, and all.”

A few minutes later:  “Here, I fixed it.  She’s still going to spill her tea, but at least her sewing machine is right side out.”

However, the quilt should not be draped off to that side of the sewing machine.  So the picture is wrong, no matter which way it’s oriented.  Actually, it looks to me like the quilt totally surrounds the machine, somehow!  ??

There’s apparently a hole smack-dab in the center of the quilt, the better to accommodate the sewing machine.  I’ll bet AI considered itself ingenious, working that out!  🙄

By the time I needed to get ready for our church service, I had wrapped as many things as I could.  A number of things were scheduled to arrive the next day.  I’m wrapping as they come.

Midmorning Thursday, it was 16°, with a windchill of -2°, and wind gusts up to 19 mph.  Brrrr!

There were no boxes on the porch yet.  We have a mailman (or woman) who crams books into our mailbox over on the highway, and puts creases in the covers.  Bah, humbug!

The little birds around the feeders were all fluffed up like butterballs against the cold.

I rushed out on the back deck a few days ago to rehang the feeders, and nearly scared a squirrel right out of his bushy tail.  Instead of climbing back down the deck pillars to the ground one story below, he sprang straight off the railing and saaaaaailed down to the ground, ka-spllllat!!!  He was running to the treeline the minute he hit terra firma, and didn’t appear to have done himself any harm.

Here’s a red-bellied woodpecker on the suet feeder.  (Yeah, yeah, I know; his head is red.  But there’s already a ‘red-headed woodpecker’, and this one does have a pinkish-red belly, so...)

An online friend is learning to play the piano.  She asked, somewhat apologetically, if there were things about piano-playing that had ever befuddled me.

Boy, oh boy, were there.  Yes, there are innumerable ways to become befuddled, musically.  Becoming musically befuddled publicly is, uh, befuddling.  To say nothing of embarrassing.  I have single-handedly brought an entire congregation to a stuttering halt (while the organist looked on, horrified).

There are a couple of similar songs in our hymnbook that used to befuddle me when I was playing the piano for church, and if I wasn’t careful, halfway through one of those songs I’d accidentally switch from one song to the other.  I did not realize this was a problem ---- until some friends chose to have both songs for their wedding, one after the other!  

Fortunately, I discovered this phenomena during rehearsal, rather than during the wedding.  I decided it was time to play primarily by note, rather than by ear, as I often like to do.

I made it through those wedding songs without error, thankfully.

Richard Wurmbrand, the Romanian preacher who was imprisoned and tortured for his faith and his preaching, once said, “We have enough victories to keep us triumphant, and enough failures to keep us humble.”

I can only pray that the Lord keeps the balance.  😅

In reading the news, I learned that the elderly couple from Texas who got lost traveling from the Texas Panhandle home to Lubbock after visiting family on Thanksgiving Day was found deceased in their car near a remote New Mexico ranch.  They had succumbed to hypothermia.  They had no cell phones with them – not that cell phones would’ve done them much good in that remote area.  The man was on oxygen, and the woman was starting to exhibit memory problems.

A number of people with dementia have walked or driven away from home here in Nebraska in the last few months.  Last week, one man in Omaha was reported missing late one morning.  Later in the evening, he ran across I480 and was hit and killed.

A few days ago, a 73-year-old man got lost driving his pickup, intending to go from Waterloo, Nebraska, to Grand Island; but he wound up in Iowa, the opposite direction.  Eventually he headed back west.  Clerks at truck stops and convenience stores called the police, thinking the man seemed confused – and finally the State Patrol found him, just one county away from where he’d started.  It was a day and a half later, but he was all right.

A lot of people are judgmental of families ‘letting this happen’, but I understand only too well how it can happen.  Sometimes confusion comes on quickly, and no one expects it.  Sometimes people with dementia squirrel away keys or make copies and hide them – and take to the roads without anyone knowing they even could. 

I know of a family who took away the father’s keys, then removed batteries after he hotwired a couple of classic cars he’d fixed up some years earlier.

He proceeded to call a taxi to take him to a dealership in the city, where he bought himself a brand-spankin'-new car.

People say caring for a person with dementia – especially in their earlier mobile stages – is like caring for a toddler.  No, on the contrary, it’s like caring for a rebellious, sneaky teenager!

I still remember how it would make my heart thump when my computer would give an audio warning, in my very own voice, which I’d recorded for the purpose:  “Hey!  Where do you think you’re going?!” 

The tracker we’d put in Loren’s Jeep (when he could still drive all right) had activated, and was telling me he was going somewhere.  I’d watch as he traveled.  For almost a year, he was fine, going to Walmart, or the gas station, or church, or to see friends.

And then he wasn’t, and we had to take his keys.  Cue humongous uproar...

Next, he decided to walk to church on a bitterly cold, snowy day, wearing only his suit – no coat, hat, or gloves.  Thank goodness, neighbors found him – though it wasn’t very smart or helpful of them to take him to the church and drop him off some three hours before the service, and not even bother to see if he got inside.  The doors were locked, but our school principal’s wife saw Loren on the security cameras, and rushed to let him in.  She then took him back home, even while several members of my family and I were driving around looking for him, after Larry, working in Fremont, got an alert from the game cam, and saw Loren walk away from his house.

After that, one of us stayed with him almost ’round the clock, until we were able to get him into Prairie Meadows, the memory-care unit in Omaha.

I’m so thankful we were able to keep Loren safe, and that he was not sad while spending his last three years at Prairie Meadows.

A delivery arrived from Amazon – a bunch of books and little hard rubber animal figures from Schleich and Safari, Ltd.; but only one stuffed animal.  A Lego Lamborghini came, too; that will be for Grant, one of Teddy and Amy’s boys.  Grant is 12.  I wrapped two more gifts.  I’ll wait until more stuffed animals arrive so I can wrap or bag entire sets together.  The little rubber animals are just as detailed and nicely made as I expected.  And the stuffed maned wolf is soooo soft.  If the children like these sets as much as I do, they’re gonna be pleased as punch!

Here’s Eva’s Schleich Great Pyrenees, necklace (it’s very small and dainty, but quite detailed), and matching book.

Presents wrapped, I then headed upstairs to my office to start scanning photos in that last bin of albums I had found in a cubbyhole upstairs.  When I scanned all my old pictures 3-4 years ago, I knew some albums were missing.  I was very glad when I found them.  They were with bins of Victoria’s, and I thought the bin was hers. 

Someone asked why I was wrapping boxes rather than just putting things in bags.  It’s because a) I got a bunch of very nice wrapping paper from Current Catalogue several years ago for 80% off, right after Christmas; b) I have boxes I can wrap; and c) the fact is, it’s easier to stack a whole volley of boxes than it is to stack gift bags, which tend to fall over and spill.  I bought gift bags on that big sale, too, but d) I’ve used up a lot of them and haven’t many left, particularly whatever size I most need at the moment.  Anyway, I like wrapping boxes, and wrapping paper is cheaper than gift bags.  It’ll probably be at least two years before I use up all the paper and bags I have, and then I’ll look for another after-Christmas sale.  One time years ago we got three cartloads of wrap and bags from Hobby Lobby after Christmas.  They had things marked at 75%-90% off.

When I quit scanning photos that night, I was getting close to halfway done with the first big album, which holds about 400 photos.  This is not a fast process!  Here are Joseph and Hester, late 1989.

Victoria sent a video clip of Carolyn and Violet singing Christmas songs. 

They sang so well, but Larry and I got quite struck funny at a small vehicle running in the background.  Actually, it was Willie, impersonating a little motor:  “B-b-b-b-b-th-th-th-b-b-b...”

He even changed carburetor notes to better harmonize with the piano – and then, between verse and chorus, he did a ‘bass’ run (F E D C) (several octaves high), exactly in the right spot.

Later, Victoria sent pictures of the children playing in the snow.  It was 50° -- perfect for making snowmen without getting too cold.  Arnold tried a taste of snow — bleah, it wasn’t good.  He made a face, then laughed.

There was Yuki sitting on the railing – and Luna peering into patio doors, nose against the glass, ears back peevishly, because the doors were not opening to let him inside.

Victoria then marched up to the other patio door and, standing right beside Luna, put her nose right up to the glass, and peered in, too.  This made the kids laugh, of course.

Friday, I made myself a mug of cold brew and a mug of Celsius and headed back upstairs to scan more photos. Just look at this little cutie.  This was Hester in late 1989.

As the scanner whirred, working away, I heard a few loud chirps and a whistle or two.  I looked out the east-facing window, and there was a bright red cardinal sitting in the apple tree right outside the window, chirping away.  Here are English sparrows, the Mrs. and the Mr.

A friend is getting her 12-year-old granddaughter a drum set for Christmas.  An entire drum set! 

“I’m jealous!” I told her.

Once upon a time, when I was about 7 or 8 years old, I went with my parents out to San Francisco to visit some friends.  My father had known the man for many years, as they’d sold Bibles together in North Dakota after Daddy got out of the Navy.  We would also visit and his daughter and her family.  A second daughter had recently died of cancer, just a couple of weeks before she had planned to get married.  

The daughter we visited had a couple of sons, and one had a humongous, amazing drum set.  It was in the family room on a large curved platform, two steps up from the main floor.  The boy turned on a John Philip Sousa march on a big boombox, and played his drums with the music.  I loved it.

And THEN!!!!  He told me I could play his drums!!!

He showed me how to work the pedals for the snare drums and the big kettle drum, and how to ring the triangle and clash the cymbals.  He handed me some sticks, walked over to the boombox, and turned on – Battle Hymn of the Republic.  I love that song.

I proceeded to play with all my might and main.  I forgot anyone else was in the room.  I forgot anyone else was in the world.

I then began asking for a drum set for Christmas.

I got a drum.

A little red toy drum with pictures painted on the sides, and a striped cord with which to hang it around my neck.

I was sorely disappointed, but I’d been taught to always be thankful.  Oh me, oh my, if my parents knew what a job it was for me to smile and say ‘thank you’!  But I did it.

Here’s Hester at about 4 months.

Victoria sent this picture of Arnold playing with a wooden bear puzzle.  Those little bears are always such fun; our children loved them, too.

After the children came in from playing in the snow, Victoria made hot chocolate.

Her pictures made me hungry for some, so I trotted downstairs and made some from the concoction Victoria had made for us a while back.  She’d put it into a Mason jar, marshmallows and all.

Before long, she sent an audio clip of Arnold saying he liked “Hot chockit!”  

Sometimes it’s “Hot cochit!” 😄

We had spaghetti and meatballs for supper that evening, along with cottage cheese and some yummy pie Larry brought home from a local truck stop.  A friend of ours makes the pie they sell there.

I scanned a picture, taken in about 1965 or 1966, of my nephews and niece, Loren’s children, and their mother:  Richard, Jayne, Dolly, John Mark, and Paul.  I then sent it to Richard, Paul, and Jayne.  John Mark has passed away.  Richard’s wife Edith intercepted the picture, exclaiming, “Ohhh my!!!  I am going to have this printed for Richard.”

She then put a copy into her Gemini App and colored it.  Didn’t it do a nice job?  Those colors are good, too – the app apparently ‘understood’ that this is an old photo.

Next, she requested a Christmas theme.  And just look, isn’t that neat?

Saturday morning, a friend and I were discussing hours of sleep or the lack thereof, as it were.  I’d had a fairly good night’s sleep of seven hours the previous night, or just a little less.  This seems about the norm for me, the odd sleepless night notwithstanding.

Charles Wesley (unless it was his brother John), a preacher in the mid 1700s, once lamented when he was in his 80s, “There is an increasing tendency to lie abed ’til the very late hour of 5:30 a.m.”

It was a hoarfrost-covered morning here in Nebraska, with the temperature at 30° and feeling like 16°.  Snow was expected.  I refilled and rehung the bird feeders, showered, cut my hair, blow-dried it, played several Christmas songs, and made myself a tall Thermal mug of Cameroon Boyo cold brew.  I put a few curls in my hair, ate breakfast, and washed the dishes while watching Robert E. Fuller’s animal videos.  He’s right on a par with National Geographic.  Better, since he builds habitats, and installs cameras in said habitations.  He paints the animals he photographs and videos, too.

Before heading upstairs to my office, I got sidetracked by Amazon – I found a bunch of big, pretty calendars for about $5.00 each.  I ordered one for each of the kids, one for a cousin in a nursing home, and one for myself.

That done, I returned to scanning pictures.

Here’s me in 1989, at age 29.  That was 36 years ago.

When I quit for the evening, one album was done and I’d started on the next one.  There are 17 more big albums and four small ones to go.  The first album took three days to scan, and most of the photos – 482 of them in this one album alone – are not yet edited.  However, I did have to remove the photos from the magnetic pages in order to scan them, as the pages are all somewhat permanently attached to the album binding.  Then, because the pages were no longer very sticky, I put a little piece of tape under each photo.  That takes time.

The second album will be quicker, since it’s a three-ring binder.  I can remove each page, pull back the plastic covering the pictures, and lay the entire page on the glass scanner bed.

I wonder how many of the 16 additional albums have rings that open, releasing the pages?  If every album takes three days, then I have 54 days of scanning to go.

My back was complaining from leaning over my table scanning pictures, and Larry’s back was complaining from working on a vehicle, so after supper we both retired to our recliners.  

“I might edit pictures... or I might be lazy and look at something on YouTube,” I told a cousin.

“Just look at YouTube,” she advised.

She’s one who complains of having nothing to do – but most anything anyone suggests as a possible activity gets the same response:  “That’s not my thing.”  Poor dear; she’s never been very well, but she would’ve been better off, had she been encouraged from a young age to always find something to do, if not for herself, then for someone else.  As King Solomon wrote in Ecclesiastes 9:10, “Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do it with thy might!”

You do that, and you will find yourself enjoying life a whole lot more.

As Solomon also said, Ecclesiastes 2:24, “There is nothing better for a man, than that he should eat and drink, and that he should make his soul enjoy good in his labour.  This also I saw, that it was from the hand of God.”

Put your heart into your work! – and you’ll cause your ‘soul to enjoy good in that labor’.

Okay, that was a nice little sermonette – but then I turned into a hypocrite and got meseff stranded watching animal and bird videos on YouTube... then migrated to people trying to navigate icy walks and steps or get the snow off their roofs (with the expected consequences)... and finished it up by watching amazing inventions of home decor – a ceiling fan that turns into a spiral staircase leading into the loft, a bookcase that morphs into a table and chairs, a ceiling that is also a giant aquarium, etc.

An hour of wasted time, and I thwacked the lid shut on my laptop, muttering, “I’m done.”  Why do I do that?!  I should’ve just gone to bed.  🫤

But at least now I know that stoats use linear features for travel, avoiding open spaces and finding dens in burrows, hollow trees, or stone walls across North America, Europe, and Asia; and that male Resplendent Quetzals incubate by day, females by night.  Both feed the young, but males often take over care as females leave, feeding chicks until fledging.

Photo from Donini Photography, Switzerland

How ’bout that.  I didn’t know that, did you?  (Photos of the Quetzals from BirdLife DataZone and Passport & Pixels Travel Photography, respectively.)

So, as one of Larry’s elderly aunts used to say, “Now ah can go t’ bed, ’cuz ah done larnt me sumpthin’ t’day.”

Sunday morning at a quarter ’til 8, it was 23° and felt like 4°, with the wind only gusting up to 13 mph – a ‘gentle breeze’, in this part of the country.

The bird feeders were rehung, I had a fresh mug of Rwanda cold brew (don’t like it, much), and I was putting a few curls in my hair, getting ready for church.

While listening to the Chicago news station using the Audacy app, as I do while getting ready on Sunday mornings (in order to avoid stupid and ugly ‘religious’ songs on Nebraska’s rural radio), a few of the Chicago ads get interrupted by Nebraska ads, because Audacy knows where I am.  (Cue spooky music.)  So an ad for tickets to the opera is suddenly interrupted by an ad for SmartStax® RIB Complete® Corn Blend seeds.

Brain Whiplash, Brain Whiplash!

Despite the cold, the Mercedes started!  It didn’t, last Sunday morning, and again Wednesday night.  The cold weather does a number on batteries.  But Larry left a battery charger on it all day a couple of days ago, until the battery was totally charged.  That seems to have been the ticket.  We’ll see.

Soon it was time to go.  And I had new shoes! – from the eBay shoe-lot bargain.  Cute little black things with bows on the toes – and a sticky spot on the sole that I hadn’t entirely eradicate.  By the time I headed out the door, the entire living room rug was nicely vacuumed, thanks to said sticky spot.  I would arrive at church looking like I’d stepped on a small animal, and it was still there.

That afternoon, Larry made waffles for our lunch.  Since I have numerous boxes of the stuff, and we need to use it up, he added Cream of Rice to his mix, along with the usual applesauce, flour, milk, eggs, etc.  Mmmmm, yummy.

Someone posted a video of a team of huskies pulling a sledder through the Alaskan Backcountry.  Our big Siberian husky, Aleutia, used to absolutely love pulling the kids on a sled.  The minute we’d start putting her harness on, up would go her tail in a tight, waving, curve of a flag.  As soon as we hitched up the sled, let one of the kids climb on, and told her, “Okay, you can go!” she’d take off with a leap.  The kids had to hang on tight, if they didn’t want to get spilled!

Aleutia could keep up a steady trot for a good long while without seeming to tire.  She’d set her ears back at the same angle sled dogs everywhere affect.  It’s the “I’m tending to business!  Stand back!” ear-set.

In getting ready for the evening church service, I tried on another pair of the new shoes I’d gotten.  They were a bit too big.  I looked at the size and discovered they’re a 7W.  I don’t need 7W.

It occurred to me that the several pairs of heel grippers I’d ordered from Walmart a week or two ago have never arrived.  I looked at my order – and discovered that the order had been canceled.  I pulled up Amazon – and found the sets I’d wanted in the first place, cheaper than they’d been at Walmart (and these particular grippers had been out of stock).  When I compared them to Walmart back then, the Amazon heel grippers had been quite a bit more expensive. 

Serendipity!  I placed the order.

And then I noticed the product description: 

“Product Benefits:  Heel Pain”

Well, rats!  I had hoped to avoid that!  

Caption on a close-up of the grippers: 

“Protect your heels in all dire”

“Ctionsand make your feet comfortable all day”

It’s important where you place your spaces!  Especially if you have ‘auto-hyphenate’ or ‘autowrap’ activated. 

Anyway, I would apparently soon have heels that are protected in all directions.

As we drove to church, snowflakes were drifting lazily down.  At the end of the service, as we sang the final song, a bunch of the teenage boys headed out, and I knew the snow must’ve kicked up, and they were going out to clear the sidewalks and approaches.  By the time people began exiting the building, the snow had been cleared away nicely.  We loitered, chatting with friends and family – and the walks were nearly covered with snow again when we walked out.

We need valet service for us ol’ fogies!  (Not really; it wasn’t far to our vehicle.)

I once told Cortana (virtual assistant on Windows 10) to ‘bring the car around, please’, and she informed me that the car had been accidentally dropped off of the 5^th floor of the parking garage, and I would have to find new transportation.  That was a good eight years ago!

We drove out to Walmart to pick up a grocery order, then stopped at the new Super Saver for a few things:  a hot smokehouse chicken, potato salad, chef salad, and chocolate chip brownies.  The new street, especially, was slick, since they don’t salt new concrete.

As we pulled into the parking lot, some people got out of their car – and the mother and little girl were dressed in shorts and flipflops.  It was 24° and snowing, for pity’s sake.

This morning, there were flocks of migrating geese high in the sky, calling to each other:

“Marge!  Use your turn signal when you cut in front of me like that!”

“Oh, mind yer own feathers, Mert, and quitcher tailgatin’.”

Like that.

My fingers are a bit stiff in the mornings, and I can’t type quite as fast as usual for a few minutes.  However, the biggest KQ (Keyboard Quallyfobble) I experience is this:  

I go play the piano for a while... come back to my laptop... and find my fingers all discombobulated, feeling as though I’m typing in the key of F or G♭.  This has happened ever since I first learned to type, back in... ?  8^th grade, I think.  My parents got me a cheap little typewriter after discerning that my father’s >very!< old typewriter just couldn’t cut the mustard.  (Not sure why a typewriter needs to cut the mustard.)  Anyway, the type slugs (haha!  I didn’t know until right now this very moment that the metal pieces on the ends of the typebars that have letters that hit the ribbon to print are called ‘type slugs’!) – as I was saying, the type slugs (that’s fun to write:  type slugs, type slugs, type slugs) kept getting stuck together.  And you know it wasn’t my fault, don’tcha don’tcha don’tcha???

I have no idea what I was going on about.  Oh.  Yes.  Quite so.  (In a Winnie-the-Pooh tone.)  Finger discombobulations.  And type slugs!

I have my Christmas notebook out, and am working my way through the 300+/- songs in it.  These are my favorite songs!

This afternoon, the Blue Ribbon Cookbook I ordered arrived.  It has recipes of ribbon-winning entries at State Fairs all over the U.S.  It was not the book I once borrowed from the public library and copied recipes out of, as I’d hoped.  But I did get a $19.99 book for only $2.50 (and I still have the copied recipes on cards in a box, so there’s that, at least).  The cookbook was listed on eBay at $3.50, with a ‘Make an Offer’ option.  I offered $2.50 – and they accepted.  Shipping was free.  The book, listed as “Used – Good Condition” actually looks brand-spankin’-new.  The copyright is 1993.  I’d thought to keep it, but maybe it’ll be another Christmas gift.

I haven’t been to a library for library-related activities for a coon’s age, though I love libraries and bookstores.  I did, however, meet those two young financial advisors in a pretty room in our new library in order to get signed up properly for Medicare and its supplements.  One of these days I’ll go there and take some pictures.  It’s quite nice.

I remember the day, at our first little library, when I realized, Oh, no!!!  I have read every single book in the children’s section!  I was in quite the paradox of feeling all accomplished and disappointed, both at the same time.  I was... I don’t know, 10? 11?  The librarian led me to the pre-teen and teen section, gave me a pat on the shoulder, and whispered, “See how fast you can make it through these.”  She was a nice lady.  I really liked her.

Hannah recently sent me this picture, writing, “I decided to take a picture of Levi that would kind of match his siblings’ photos on the wall. Trying to get a good pose, I directed him, ‘Turn your shoulders the other direction.’  He whirled around and looked back at me.  This ended up being one of my favorite shots. 😄”

Our boys did stuff just like that, too, when I was trying to get their pictures.  Keith would sometimes stand heels together, toes pointing outward – and he thought it was particularly funny, if I didn’t notice and took the shot!

Then I’d notice, and say, “Put your feet right!”

He would immediately turned toes inward, one foot in front of the other.  I mean, both pointing totally the opposite way, and crisscrossed, somehow.  How did he DO that?!

Back to the photo-scanning!

,,,>^..^<,,,          Sarah Lynn          ,,,>^..^<,,,