Recollectin'

Good morning!

I wanted to share some thoughts and images before, like so many things, my favorite month becomes a memory.

Backing up a couple weeks --

The funeral home's Thanksgiving observance last week was really nice. I felt a bit awkward walking in ... not knowing what sort of reception I'd get, but almost everyone was friendly and generous with their hugs.

After the fact, Miss Beth even commented (that) my Hatch chili cornbread was a big hit. 

Before leaving, I took Tom on a drive through the cemetery.  On behalf of my late father (a fan), we stopped to pay respects to Governor Wallace.

Love the near-Winter sky!

There's little that can put me in a holiday mood, like cold(ish) weather … and happily, Mother Nature obliged.  Granted, the 26* temps I enjoyed didn't stick around, but I've high hopes for December and January.


Our Thanksgiving was pretty low-key, but enjoyable.

Belatedly I observed, "Tie One on Day" by digging out my mother's 'cobbler' apron.

.. and nagging asking Tom to do the same.

For a myriad of good reasons, my DIL has been extremely stressed.  Despite a 25-lb. weight loss and not feeling like a crispy critter, Lois still wore a pretty smile:

In addition to her turkey and green-bean casserole, we brought along a 12-1/2# brisket

  … and another batch of green chili cornbread.

So surprised when Tom -- who normally avoids Hatch like the plague -- enjoyed two big slices!  Have to admit, I've never been particularly fond of cornbread, but this recipe is super moist.

My mellow, handsome son

And pretty granddaughter, Chloe

I'd never heard of a Cinderella pumpkin before … have you?

Like a popular meme on social media, I saved 100% by not going out shopping yesterday.

Uh, cancel that.

I had to run to Food Outlet and pick up a box of ice cream sandwiches.  Seems 'someone' swore she purchased them earlier in the week, but we couldn't find them anywhere.  Until Thursday morning, when Tom went to put on a fresh shirt and discovered a Wal-Mart bag hung over the top of the dry cleaning hangers.  Oops.

As a few of you know, we're observing a State holiday today -- aka, the Iron Bowl.  I used to laugh at memes like this, but realize it's pretty much a fact:

 

I did get dressed and brushed my teeth … but there'll be no cooking no cleaning, no decorating. Bring on the queso dip and tortilla chips!

Oh. And not that I'm pessimistic, but figured the bottle of gin I bought along with Tom's ice cream might make today's outcome a little easier to take.  Ha!

Have a super and safe weekend, y'all!

(Sorry Linda … *smile*)

Hugs, Myra

Just for today

Gonna try my best!

Outside my window

Tom's unable to get out and rake … 

and I'm unwilling!

Unlike the xeriscape yards in Arizona, I LOVE the look of fallen leaves.   

I'm thinking

Enough is enough!

This arrived yesterday ...

Nice return address … NOT!

… and yes, I hustled myself right to the Post Office. The Postmaster is out until Monday.  At least they took this (and the postcard) seriously, and have told me to expect a call. 

I am grateful

To have made it home safely last week.  Because our home sits so close to the Eastern time zone 'border', it's dark by 5 o'clock. Now I've a new appreciation for my mother's refusal to drive after dark.  Not only am I bothered/blinded by on-coming headlights, but noticed 'double' lane lines and near-zero depth perception.

Bless his heart!  Because our street is so dark, Tom asked me to call when I turned onto Chapman … then he stood out at the end of the drive with a high-powered flashlight.  (We've since installed little solar lights on either side of the drive.)   

Two of my favorite things

My mother and grandma are gone,

but using their 'tools' while baking last week gave me the 'feels.'

Oh, my goodness!

Are there any other Chicago Med fans out there?  Oh, how last week's episode touched me!

...

I may have a teeny-tiny crush on Dr. Charles. (*smile*)

A thought to carry with you

Click to enlarge

This hangs in White Chapel's break room.

So, when I woke up at 4:41 (silly dogs) I fully intended to cover the furniture and wipe down all the ceiling fan blades.  Fortunately, today's overcast rainy weather's convinced me to nest, instead. Popcorn for breakfast, anyone?

Have a great day ….. be safe!

Hugs, Myra  

Stirred, not shaken

Hey there!

Imagine, if you will, a structure about the size of an Arby's -- housing the U.S. Postal Service, City Hall and the Coosada Police Department.   Not the sort of place we planned to hang Tuesday morning … but y'all know what God says about plans! (*smile*)  

Some may recall, a number of weeks ago a police officer stopped by. Supposedly, when a relative had been unable to contact the previous homeowners, they called the police asking them to do a welfare check.

("I said a no-no-no, it ain't me babe. It ain't me you're looking for, babe.....")

In the 17 months we've been here, we've received maybe half a dozen letters in our box addressed to Mr. or Mrs. Jxxxxxx.  Distinctive handwriting -- but never a return address.  Rather than let curiosity get the best of me (and wind up in an orange jumpsuit), I quick-like scrawled "no longer at this address" across the front and stuck them in the nearest drop box.  

Then yesterday I received a postcard addressed to Mr. J.  Same distinctive penmanship, but an unsettling, swarmy message to the Mr. about his wife.  AND, the back of the postcard wasn't a scenic something or another -- but a photo of Mrs. J. obviously taken in the backyard!  (BTW, from what I know he and she are, like Tom and me, empty-nesters in their 60's and 70's.)

Tom was all about, just give it back to the mail carrier.  But my 'what-iffer' started spinning. Sure enough the Post Office confirmed, with no return address there's nothing they can do but put it in the 'dead letter' box.   The Police?  Why, they're just the other side of that wall, honey.

Granted, ours is a small town, but I had to smile. Just a weary-looking gal who at first seemed bothered at being interrupted, then incredulous. Next, a friendly male clerk ... plus two inmates who wandered out from the back to see what was going on.  After reading and re-reading the card, she radioed for an officer.  Nice guy, but oh man! I didn't think they were handing out badges and guns to Eagle Scouts … he didn't look old enough to shave!   He took our contact information and assured us his Colonel would know exactly how and where to find Mr. J.  (Ya, that's why they let you guys have access to the cool databases.)   I so wish I could find out what happens next; but then again, I don't want some weird stalker dude showing up here expecting to find Mrs. J.

* * *

In other news ...

It feels SO good being re-retired!   I was secretly overjoyed when two of my favorite coworkers sent me FB friend requests, and another asked for my number.   You could've knocked me over with the proverbial feather when my normally distant GM came by to invite me to the staff Thanksgiving lunch this Thursday.  He even said, "You've always got a home here."  Wow.

We're still waiting to hear from the V.A. and/or U.A.B. Birmingham on Tom's TAVR procedure.  (I don't know about you, but once a call to action's been made, I'd prefer it be sooner rather than later.)  For now, we're planning to join my son and family at their place for Thanksgiving dinner. At son's request, I've ordered a smoked brisket to accompany the big bird.  

'Hope to catch up with y'all again before too many days have passed!  Please, stay warm, stay safe!

Hugs, Myra 

Update!

So, I just had a call from the Colonel (police).  He begins, "So what is it you want me to do?"  (huh?!?. I want you to find Mr. and Mrs. Jxxxxxx and warn them about this creep.)   No. He wants us to come back and get the card and take it over to the Millbrook (next town over) post office and speak to their Postmaster's investigator. I'm not sure what he thinks can be done without a return address, but he said maybe they can stop this kind of mail coming to us. (Ya, right.)

I did take a picture of the front and back (heh heh) and was thinking of sending it to their realtor who may know where they are. Tom says, "Don't get involved."  What say you?

  

Just Dropping by ...

. . . With an update on life on Chapman Road.

Loving this cold weather!  Granted, for those of you north of the Mason-Dixon line, the term 'cold' is open to interpretation (*smile*).  I realized just a few hours ago, it's been nearly 20 years since I've seen snow, up close and personal. This. Must. Change.

* * *

So, Tom woke up Saturday morning and declared he was going to go buy a new dishwasher.

'Twas deja vu all over again.

No, my attitude about shopping for major appliances has not mellowed.  

I think Tom read the specs and opened the lids of every stinkin' model on Lowe's showroom floor.

Our dialogue went something like this:

Me: "Who cares? As long as I can push a button and it does its thing, I'm happy.

Him: Every woman in America cares … except you.

Unfortunately, when an unenthusiastic salesperson finally deigned to show up, his was a 'take it or leave it' attitude.

So, we drove across the street and discovered friendly associates and better prices. Win-win, right?

Wrong.

The model he chose was something like $479(?) -- but it would have been $584 in black. Strike #1. 

$100 delivery. Strike #2.

$25 to remove the old. Strike #3 … and we're still without.

* * *

I'm not a betting person, but would wager the folks at Dignity Memorial aren't going to offer that alternate job. Happy to say, Friday's my last day.

Which, I've concluded, is a good thing.

We just returned from meeting with Tom's cardiologist. Before he was called away during the cath procedure, the doctor discovered a significant blockage (85-90%) in one of Tom's arteries. Unfortunately, he's more concerned about pressure (I didn't quite understand) -- which means a referral to UAB Birmingham for a TAVR.

Never one to let bad news get in the way of our appetites, I've put on a pork loin w/ Hatch chiles; and Tom's bought a couple Red Baron pizzas! Bon appetit!

* * *

Oh, and by the way ...

Has anyone else noticed Blogger's little 'come on', asking to "Try the New Blogger."

  

Why?

Have you?

Ciao for now, m'friends!

Stay safe, and if you would, keep us in your prayers.

Hugs, Myra

Saturday 9's going Heart to Heart

Welcome to Saturday 9!  What we've committed to our readers is that we will post 9 questions every Saturday.  Sometimes the post will have a theme, and at other times the questions will be totally unrelated. Those weeks we do 'random questions', so to speak.  We encourage you to visit other participants' posts and leave a comment.  Because we don't have any rules, it is your choice.  We hate rules.  We love memes, however, and here is today's!  Unfamiliar with today's song?  Here it/watch it here.

* * *

With whom did you most recently have a 'heart-to-heart'?

That would be my son and DIL … they're wonderfully supportive and pragmatic.

When this song was on the charts, audiences were tuning into a TV show called Hart to Hart. Are you familiar with it?

Oh yes! In those days I loved Robert Wagner.

In the music video, Kenny Loggins plays an illustrator. It's said that the hardest thing to draw is a straight line, because all the joints in your hand have to work together in sync. Can you draw a straight line without the aid of a ruler or a straight edge?

Nope! When I had to write my homework on plain white paper, mother used a soft pencil and a yardstick to draw faint lines which could be easily erased.

This video also prominently features teddy bears. A 2018 article in the NY Post estimates that 4 in 10 adults have a plush toy of his/her own. Are you one of the 40%?

Yep!

This particular trio keeps watch over me while I sleep.

Meanwhile in the office, White Bear (a gift from former boss, Jo Anne),  cuddles 'little guy' that belonged to my father when he was a baby.

Kenny Loggins performed in a tribute to Aretha Franklin at Carnegie Hall. Do you have a favorite Aretha Franklin song?

This may sound UN-American, but I was never a fan.

Kenny co-wrote this song with Michael McDonald of the Doobie Brothers. You can also hear Michael on the background vocals. Do you have a favorite Doobie Brothers song?

How about, "What a Fool Believes."

The third co-writer is David Foster. 1982 was a big year for Foster, since Chicago had a bit hit with another of his compositions, 'Hard to Say I'm Sorry.' Do you have a favorite Chicago song?

In 1977, I chose "Color my World" for my wedding.

In 1982 when this song was popular, Tylenol capsules laced with cyanide killed 7 people in Chicago. In response, tamper-proof packaging was introduced. What's the last thing you opened that required you to break a seal?

I recently had to use a cuticle scissors to open my lens solution. Annoying!  But considering how many nut cases there are ....

Random question: You've having a party. Which guest annoys you most: the one who arrives 20 minutes early, or the one who shows up 20 minutes late?

What kind of party? If it's something structured like a dinner party, I'd call out the late-comer.... and only then if he/she didn't call or text.  Show up early to my house and you may find the handle of a vacuum cleaner thrust in your hand. (*smile*)

* * *

FYI, I'm feeling much better, thanks. Still looking forward to meeting the 'grown-up doctor' (i.e., cardiologist).

Hope everyone's enjoying your Saturday ... and staying safe!

                                                                   Hugs, Myra

So, THIS happened ... and that

Good morning!

Unless your name is Betty and you live in Arizona (*smile*), I think we can all relate.

The car radio? That's me!

So yesterday morning, I put on my big-girl panties and basically told my GM I don't think my employment is doing White Chapel or myself any favors.

Never in a million years did I anticipate feeling this way after what, 5 weeks?  I've tried to comprehend the legalities, etc., but it's like I'm trying to run up the down escalator.

Unfortunately -- and I don't mean to sound melodramatic -- Friday afternoon I really thought I was suffering a cardiac event. Like what happened to my father at 69 ... the same age I am today.
I quickly chewed a couple of baby aspirin, but still felt a crazy pressure in my chest.  And you know what I did?  Nothing.  

Crazy, but my first thoughts went to my son -- and, how much I wanted a cigarette to feel better. (Pathetic, huh? It's been 6+ years since I quit, but there you go.)  

This morning the pressure's gone, but I've an appointment with my primary doc in the AM, and might ask her for a referral.  

Anyway. My GM allowed, that desk isn't without a good bit of stress, but he said he believed in me … and asked me to think about it over the weekend.  (Nothing to think about, but OK. I promised.)  He must have called the office manager, because Christina called a few hours later and said all the right (PC) things -- including, and this cracked me up so much, "I had no idea, because you're such a great example of grace under pressure." (bahahaha!)

* * *

Then, he could've knocked me over with a feather. Rather than resigning, would I consider working at another funeral home closer to my home. One without all the legal paperwork associated with a cemetery?  Basically, it's a much smaller and quieter operation; I'd be little more than a receptionist.

Tom and I've talked it over. Basically, if it doesn't involve Saturdays and the pay remains the same, I'm leaning towards giving it a try. No promises.

If not, I'm at peace with it.

No new blinds? No new flooring? No new computer?
So what?

Thanks so much for listening! 'Promise to keep y'all in the loop.

Meanwhile, I hope you enjoy these tidbits, below.
Have a delight-full Sunday, and be safe!

Hugs, Myra

Farmers are protecting baby calves from frostbite with knitted hoodies.

(Click here for more adorable pictures.)

Some of the best words ever, don't you agree?

… and not alert the dogs!