Friday Fill-ins

 

Just for fun! 

Thanks to Ellen and Lorianne for creating these questions ... and of course, to Anne for having planted the seed in my mind!

* * *

1.  So far 2021 is remarkably similar to 2020.  (What did I expect?)

2.  A (book), (movie) or (song) title that best describes my life is --

My gosh, the possibilities are endless!

How about, I employ the bartender diploma I never used and build a specialty cocktail .....

1/2 oz.

Georgy Girl

1/2 oz.

1-1/2 oz.

Against the Wind

"Wish I didn't know now what I didn't know then."

Shake and strain and serve over the rocks.

... Resulting in something that sounds like this.

Why Me, Lord

3.  Retirement was a pleasant surprise.

4.  I learned that arguing with Tom is a recipe for disaster.

Truth!

What say you?

Have a great weekend, everyone!

Hugs,

Myra

Smiling faces

 

Love 'em ... or not.  These cheery faces and their siblings have become a fixture in (most) of our lives.   Almost every day, I find myself keying the : and ) buttons.

Then there's texting.  I remember the time when 'thin-skinned' me took offense at something a co-worker texted.  How better had he thought to take the sting out of (his) misunderstood message with an emoji?

Recently someone shared a suggestion on my high school alumni FB page.  Citing a news story from AgBio World, a member recommended that something like this be done on the local hillside

"A smiley face in the forest!

A clever forester planted a few larch trees in the Douglas fir forest to create a giant smiley face in the Oregon forest that can be seen while driving in a highway nearby. 300 feet, 95 meters in diameter."

 I've no longer any stake in the game, but couldn't resist joining the conversation:

"I think it would cheapen Burnt Mountain's natural beauty.  Like putting a bumper sticker on a Bentley."

(Or adding "Cold Bernie" to Mt. Rushmore.)

Last I checked, the votes are neck-and-neck.
At any rate, being more than 1,300 miles away, I won't lose sleep over it.

I wonder, if the emoji craze is getting out of hand.  Or, is it just beginning?

Hugs,

Myra

    

The house on a hill

 

It's been months since Martha asked if I had a picture of my mother's kitchen.  Naturally, that sent me scrambling -- to no avail.

One of the things I love most about this day and age is how most people -- 8 or 80 -- make it a habit to capture their surroundings.

My father loved cameras, but the photographs he took were usually planned.  Posed.  I don't think it ever occurred to him to spend good money on images of our home; the 1,034 sq. feet that served as a backdrop to my adolescence.  

More than 50 years later, however, I can close my eyes and it's all there.  A mangle iron that sat under our dining room window ..... the tiny coat closet under the stairs where we watched a caterpillar weave itself a silky cocoon.   My bedroom, with this...

and that ...

I loved the dresser's reversible accent panels!

Mostly, I loved peeking out my window to spy on the firemen across the street doing their calisthenics. (*smile*)

Imagine my surprise yesterday when, on a lark, I typed in my old address -- and found not one, but 4 matches.

These (realtor) images were taken prior to its last sale, but I felt such a rush of emotions!

Remembering the phone that hung between the hutch and coat closet.  The spot where I ignored my mother's protests and fell off the back of a chair.  (and still have the scar to prove it.)

100% sure those are the original sink and bottom cabinets.  Casement windows, too.   Much to my mother's dismay, I used to use that left hand drawer pull as a bottle opener.  ( And yep, inflicted a series of dents.  Maybe not the original after all. )

My bedroom, its walls looking like the same pale yellow I favored.  Crisp cafe' curtains my mother sewed.  

Betcha anything, that's the same tree -- only now, it's branches obscure the firehouse.

Wish I had a dime for every time I tried walking the length of that fence top.  It's a wonder I didn't break my neck!

 

I shouldn't have been surprised ... but I was so disappointed to see what's become of the exterior.  Built in 1950, our home wasn't much to look like, but my parents took an enormous amount of pride maintaining the yard.  Seeing the overgrowth and junked automobiles, they'd have been heartbroken.

Yes, Mr. Wolfe.  You can go home again.

But in a way, I wish I hadn't.

In all honesty, "the house that built me" -- the home I still see in my dreams -- lies not in New Mexico, but in West Texas.  I used to fantasize about winning the Lottery and offering the owner whatever he wanted to sell.

I've even considered writing a letter to the current residents, sharing photos of how it looked new -- orange shag rug and avocado appliances; wallpaper, too.
... asking the current residents if they'd please share some current photos.

What's the worse they can say?

Dang. I'm such a coward!

Have you ever had occasion to go back to a former residence?  Would you?

Thanks for indulging my sentimental journey.

Please stay safe!

Hugs,

Myra

 

Currently

 

The other twin

Outside my window?

Meh.  I see on FB where my hometown had a beautiful snowfall overnight.  Not so fortunate here. My beloved hoodie's only good 'til about noon before I begin sweating putty-balls.  (TMI?)  

Funny. As a kid I don't recall ever caring about the weather forecasts -- we pretty much enjoyed what came.

'Just looked at the clock.  Thanks to a head's up from our meteorologist, this time last night Tom and I stood out back and watched the ISS pass overhead, looking like a beautiful jumbo jet.  4 minutes, one horizon to the next ... so cool!

I'm reading.

Yessssssiree!  As some of you know, from the time I could put vowels and consonants together I was a voracious reader.  Until 2013 when I lost that lovin' feeling.  Disgusted, I recently made myself sit down and read at least one chapter each evening.  Honestly, it was hit-and-miss. Awkward.  Then I re-discovered Mike Omer's writing. 

Granted, the Zoe Bentley mystery series may not be everyone's cup of tea.  But his tight, swift-moving story lines and well-crafted characters ring all my bells.

In the kitchen?

Basically, Tom and I each do our own thing when it comes to weekday meals.  More often than not, my lunch is a 'loose-meat' salad with scads of summer squash, walnuts and cheddar.

By the time I'm half-way through, however, I have to trade my fork for a spoon.  Oh well.  Hillbilly, party of one!

Anyone a fan of bacon?  I usually avoid it on account of the sodium content.  Then, Tom's son sent us a gift box containing our favorite sausage and a huge slab of bacon.  Whadd'ya know?  Drawn by the amazing aroma I tried a piece.  It wasn't the least bit salty!

No, the folks at Conecuh didn't ask me to write a review, but I wanted to share this link should anyone want to try a taste of Alabama's best.

Going round my head

Pretty sure I'm not the only one turned off by all the ugliness on Facebook? 

I've joined Parler and MeWe -- but I'm not ready to walk away from FB. There's too many folks whose photos and memes I enjoy.  

But!  If I share some of their content there's a good chance I'll wind up offending someone.  And who wants to be that kind of friend?  I've dear friends on both sides of the political aisle. 

How do you handle this sort of thing?   

Makes me smile

Oh, the sweet side effects of retirement!

Thanks for visiting ..... please keep safe!

Hugs,

Myra

P.S.

Some of you've seen what I shared on my FB page of yesterday's snowfall in New Mexico.   Just 20 minutes from my hometown, this used to be my playground!

A Little Levity?

 

Good evening friends,

Who else is looking for a little comic relief about now?  

Since my moxie seems to have taken a long winter's nap, I went back to the archives.  Here are a couple examples of what I believed to be humorous. 

https://mevely317.blogspot.com/2009/03/how-to-tell-if-your-anchorman-is-city.html

(Sorry.  I tried finding this on YouTube, but no dice!)

Then there's this.  I'm pretty sure lots of us have longed to respond to complaints in this manner:

UPS Airlines

Remember, it takes a college degree to fly a plane, but only a high school diploma to fix one.

After every flight, UPS pilots fill out a form called a 'gripe sheet,' which tells mechanics about aircraft challenges.  The mechanics correct the problems then document the repairs on the form for the pilots' review before their next flights.

Never let it be said ground crews lack a sense of humor.  Here are some actual maintenance complaints submitted by UPS pilots (marked with a P) and the solutions recorded (marked with an S) by maintenance engineers:

P:  Left inside main tire almost needs replacement.
S:  Almost replaced inside main tire.

P:  Test flight OK, except auto-land very rough.
S:  Auto-land not installed on this aircraft.

P:  Something loose in cockpit.
S:  Something tightened in cockpit.

P:  Dead bugs on windshield.
S:  Live bugs on back-order.

P:  Autopilot in altitude-hold mode produces a 200-feet-per-minute descent.
S:  Cannot reproduce problem on ground.

P:  Evidence of leak on right main landing gear.
S:  Evidence removed.

P:  DME volume unbelievably loud.
S:  DME volume set to more believable level.

P:  Friction locks cause throttle levers to stick.
S:  That's what friction locks are for.

P:  IFF inoperative in OFF mode.
S:  IFF is always inoperative in OFF mode.

P:  Suspected crack in windshield.
S:  Suspect you're right.

P:  Number 3 engine is missing.
S:  Engine found on right wing after brief search.

P:  Aircraft handles funny.
S:  Aircraft warned to straighten up, fly right and be serious.

P:  Target radar hums.
S:  Reprogrammed target radar with lyrics.

P:  Mouse in cockpit.
S:  Cat installed.

And the best one for last .....

P:  Noise coming from under instrument panel.  Sounds like a midget pounding on something with a hammer.
S:  Took hammer away from the midget.

And remember!

Have a great week ... stay safe!

Hugs,
Myra

My answers are ...

 

... for your feedback on yesterday's post!

Asking you to guess wasn't really fair, was it?

My answers are:

Coffee
Every day, all day.  French roast, latte, espresso or iced, I love it all.  Caffeine aside, I really enjoy the taste, and always used to keep a dish of these on my desk.

Cold pillows
Even in the summer months I have to be covered up to my neck -- but keep a trio of pillows in rotation to ensure my head stays cool.

Colored leaves
Maybe it stems from having lived so long both in Florida and Arizona.  At any rate, I practically swooned when I spotted this 3 years ago.

Their appeal still hasn't waned!

* * *

So, my 'fretter' came to visit (again) in the wee hours this morning.  What to do but begin to identify the ordinary extraordinary "Things I Love."

What I hadn't considered!  Trying to commit them to memory -- without having to sit up, find my eyeglasses, write them down  -- and not wake the dogs.

Ah, it's all good.

... and so are you!

Hugs,

Myra

 

Simple Pleasures

OK.  I'm going out on a limb and wager, I'm not the only soul losing sleep about what's happening 'out there.'

Obviously, there's nothing I can do about that ... but redirect my thoughts to a better place and time.

What about these?

Click to enlarge

 

Sure, some leave me scratching my head.
  

Several I like.  

Can anyone guess the THREE THINGS that absolutely, positively ring my bell?

(Just for fun.  No prizes will be awarded, save bragging rights. LOL)

Something else.

A while back Sean Dietrich authored a fun column titled "Things I Love."   [Click HERE]

... and Myra said, "Hey, I can do that, too!"   I've not yet followed through, but  figure it may be just the sort of distraction I need right now.   Anyone else?

Hugs,

Myra

Hi!

 Hi!

Brrrr!  Winter finally arrived last week -- much to the delight of one of us.  (Heh, heh.)   Last night's fog and frost even made our neighborhood seem a little like Sleepy Hollow.

... all the better to stay huddled under thick comforters.  (Except, our den's begun to resemble the aftermath of a teen's slumber party.)

Getting the Christmas tree (etc.) put away wasn't as heart wrenching as in years before, on account this arrived.

... looking remarkably like my parent's old console TV.

"Oh, what a night!  Late December back in '63....."

We set it up in the family room -- and have even used its heater function a few times.

Yep, I'm besotted :)

* * *

Say, are any of y'all taking supplements to ward off Covid?  My son's been taking three times the daily recommended Vitamin D.  Another gal from Bible study who tested positive over the holidays was advised to self-medicate with Vitamin D and Zinc.

I hate taking pills.  Still I mustered my resolve and scored one of the last bottles of "D" this morning.  The stocker even remarked how Zinc chewables are practically flying off the shelves.

Sure I hee-hawed, but this actually looks brilliant!

* * *

Speaking of, I was stunned to learn that a former coworker/friend recently passed away after a 3-month battle with Covid.  Larger than life, Dennis was one of the funniest humans I've ever known.  The former lead singer of a 60's doo-wop group (The Cordials), I had Alexa playing their tunes all afternoon. 

Anyway.  When another coworker called, the 20+ years separating us literally fell away.  I'm not normally fond of talking on the phone, but yakking with Joe felt effortless and oh, so fun.  Sad that it takes a tragedy like this to reconnect.

Some of my WTSP 'family'

When I shared this on FB a few years ago, Dennis commented, "What an extremely handsome young group of television professionals.  What fun we had.  We should arrange for a reunion, somewhere fairly safe."

So, imagine my excitement when Joe urged me to hurry up and get vaccinated and said he'll work to put together a reunion.

Hey Florida, here I come!

* * *

Anyone up for a Blogger reunion?

Love y'all!

Myra

 

Enunciation matters

 

So I'm learned the hard way, my waistline's not the only thing I've let slide.  My enunciation's going to pot.

Yesterday morning the girls (aka, pups) and I were enjoying a rollicking version of "Jesus Loves Me, This I Know" when my cell's screen lit up.   Like the Alexa, I've become accustom to my Google Pixel eavesdropping.   [For instance:  The other night I rose from the dining room table telling Tom, "Thank you, honey."  Uninvited, GP piped up:  "You're welcome; I enjoyed our conversation."  Really!]

Anyway!  Back to "Jesus Loves Me."  Instead of, "Heaven's gates will open wide ..."  GP had typed, "Helen's kids will open while ..." 

Oy!  I've unintentionally been butchering the English language for decades.  It's cute when little kids mis-pronounce words.  Not so, my humiliation when, back in '68,  in front of all my friends I spotted this outside the Baskin Robbins .....

..... and exclaimed,  "Look, it's a _____ _____!"

Is there anyone among us who can't relate, just a little, to this girl?

And the more I over-think something, the worse it becomes!'

Here's a couple ordinary words that currently defy my ability to speak like a grown-up:

Rural Road

Phenomenon

Not to mention ...

How about you?

Are there words with which you struggle, when your tongue just won't cooperate?

Have a great new week, friends ... stay safe!

Hugs,

Myra

Suggestions

 

I saw this on a friend's FB and wanted to share -- but thought the title "Rules for Everyone" sounded a bit offensive.  Don't we have enough rules already?

Send Thank You cards for every act of hospitality -- except another Thank You card.

Travel light through life. Keep only what you need.

That little piece of chocolate won't kill you - everything in moderation.

It's okay to cry when you're hurt.  It's also okay to smash things, but wash your face, clean your mess, and get up off the floor when you done.  You don't belong down there.

If you're going to curse, be clever.  If you're going to curse in public, know your audience.

Seek out the people and places that resonate with your soul.

Just because you can doesn't mean you should.

5-second rule: It's just dirt.  There are worse things in a fast food cheeseburger.

Happiness is not a permanent state. Wholeness is.  Don't confuse the two.

Be a good guest and leave it as you found it.

Never walk through an alley.

Be less sugar, more spice, and only as nice as you're able without compromise yourself.

Can't is a cop-out.  Don't want to is perfectly acceptable.

Hold your heroes to a high standard.  Be your own hero.

If you can't smile with your eyes, don't smile.  Insincerity is nothing to aspire to.

Never lie to yourself.

Your body, your rules.

If you have an opinion, you better know why.

Study your curiosities and practice your passions.

Ask for what you want.

Wish on stars and dandelions, then get to work.

Don't skimp on good sheets.

Fall in love often.  Particularly with ideas, art, music, literature, food and far-off places.

Fall hard and forever in love with nothing but yourself.

Say "Please", "Thank You" and "Pardon Me" whenever the situation warrants it.

Reserve "I'm sorry" for when you truly are.

Naps are for grown-ups, too.

Question everything except your own intuition.

You have enough. You are enough.

Hugs,

Myra

New Year ... and Yesteryear

Hey there!  It's good to see you again!

Our New Years?  

... was blissfully quiet.  I did a roast in the slow cooker; and, oddly enough, stayed awake with a book.  Shaking my head at what passes for NYE entertainment at Times Square.  Oh, where have you gone Guy Lombardo?  Barry Manilow?

All signs pointed to the possibility of severe weather, but aside from heavy rains, by daybreak I was happy to put away the storm radio and helmets.

Pretty sure Pastor Janet must have an 'in' with the Big Guy upstairs.  Come 2:00 all was sunny and bright in time for her and Andy's 'Open non-House Party' next door.

Thankfully, their son's a firefighter.

I never realized .....
when bamboo begins to burn it sounds remarkably like a .357 firing!

Janet, demonstrating the fine art of toasting a marshmallow.

I really planned to try my first-ever s'more ..... 

but couldn't wrap my mind around the idea.

Maybe it was the black-eyed peas I warmed for breakfast?

... or what I discovered at Food Outlet?

Happy Camper, party of one!

Anyway!

If you're not much interested in history, it's okay to stop reading.  I won't get my feelings hurt. (*smile*)

Another neighbor -- the rector from nearby St. Michael's -- stopped by the party.  What a fascinating, friendly man!

Mark was full of information about both the Zeigler homestead and surrounding area.  In fact, his own home was built in 1848 -- for a bride who'd been cast out by her family for having the audacity to fall in love with a Confederate soldier.

I had to ask Mark about this Confederate memorial that sits 2 miles from our front door.

He said this was once part of the fencing surrounding the State Capitol

"These lent our cause its Holy Consecration"

I believe it was right around Veterans Day when I stopped to take these photos. (Doesn't time fly?)

That's probably what got my mind to wondering:

Are members of the CSA considered veterans?

What to do but consult my favorite history buff.

Quoting son,

"Yes all CSA veterans were recognized as USA veterans and some received pensions when they were at the appropriate age by order of President Lincoln.
Some even received dental work at military bases after the war.

Also after the surrender of the CSA and the celebration of the end of war President Lincoln had the band play “Dixie”.
War truly was hell but he wanted to bring the states back together."

On that note!

... A sincere thank you for making time in your day to visit.  It means a lot!

Hugs,

Myra