The baby bunny hopped by my window yesterday. He would fit with room to spare in the palm of my hand. So cute. The birds in the feeder are all bigger than he is. His little ears look like tiny, individual Tootsie-Rolls.
He would make a tasty treat for the local hawk.
The rose bushes that I so carefully pruned (twice) during the summer are once again growing at odd askew angles. The good news is they are still blooming and look lovely.
The mums arrived today. I picked up our six pots, one of every color.
Two months from now all the political ads will be removed from TV. All the political pundits on the news stations will be on to other news of the day. A president will be elected and life will go on as usual. Or not.
My husband's 70th birthday was last month. We went out to dinner with the family. I bought him a remote-controlled police helicopter. I have seen him look longingly at little kids in the neighborhood who have these so I thought he might want to go out and find some playmates.
I also paid for breakfast for him and his cronies on Wednesday morning. They call themselves the ROMEOs, which can be translated either Rich Old Men Eating Out or Retired Old Men Eating Out.
--------------------------------------------
Now it is a few weeks later. Every day I hear the helicopter taking off from the floor, the hassock, the coffee table, and hover around the furniture and if I'm not careful, my head. Jim is not yet skilled enough to land on my hand.
Soccer season is in full swing. The twins are playing varsity; Brittany is coaching junior varsity.
I spend four or five hours a day writing on my dissertation; some days are more productive than others.
The pulley rope on our 80-inch accordion blind broke a few days ago. The blind is stuck open two feet up from the window sill. If I'm sitting in front of the window I can see out. If I stand up, the view is blocked. When it gets dark we have to get into another room and turn the lights off in the great room. Jim was not pleased, at all, when the blind man (as in the shade man) told him what it would cost to come out and take the blind down and back to his shop to re-string. Not happy at all!
Thanks to a niece near Boston I have discovered that Cadbury is making a Halloween Cadbury egg. The yolk is green. I do like green eggs, Dr. Seuss.
There is a huge, visible streak on the outside of our big window. Unfortunately, the stuck blind does not cover it up. I noticed it...well, in June. Every time I sit and watch TV I look out into the back yard through the window and see the streak. It's rained since then but the streak remains. I think the snow may cover the streak come December.
I read three books last week. The first "City of Women" was a memoir about living in Berlin during WWII. The second was a memoir, "January First," about a four-year old with schizophrenia and the parents' struggle to find treatment for their little girl. The child has an IQ of way-off-the-scale (she knew the Periodic
Table of Elements at the age of 4, for example). The third book was
"Gold" by the author of "Little Bee." "Gold" is about Olympic cyclists. Right now I'm reading Elie Wiesel's newest "Hostage." Four very diverse books. All worthy of a second-look.
Well, there you have it, snippets of life in southern Indiana. And that's what I think about it.
Thursday, September 6, 2012
Saturday, August 18, 2012
a small car repair
This morning we, meaning my husband, discovered that one of the front low-beam headlights on the car was out, as in not lighting up.
If I had been home alone and discovered this, I would have called the dealer and made an appointment. Or I would have stopped in at the local auto parts to see if they sold, and then installed, whatever it was I needed.In the meantime I would have driven only during the daylight hours.
However, our handy glove box contained our car manual which, on page 83, showed in less than detailed detail, how to change this bulb at home, by yourself, without the added cost of labor. That appealed to my husband.
That would not have bothered me, paying the labor, having someone else under the hood, but my husband bless his heart, decided to purchase the bulb and change it himself. Please remember that my husband can write an iron-clad Will but missed out on the auto-mechanic class in high school.
He went out and bought two bulbs, with the thought that the second would soon be needed on the passenger side of the car and why not anticipate the need. He planned to replace both bulbs.
We have a foreign car; a foreign car built by nationals traditionally small in statue. And so when the manual called for my husband to reach in and release the dead bulb, by first grabbing both ends of the thingie and then pushing on the release button he ran into his first dilemma. Doing the math, that procedure would require three hands. That's where I came in, or out..to the garage.
First, I followed his instructions about how it should come apart. Then, after failing at that, I looked at the diagram in the manual. It was easier after that since I now knew what to push on to release the bulb which was not part of the oral instructions I was given.
After the bulbs were replaced came something called putting the panel back on with eight little black plastic thingies with came with a new set of instructions. One was supposed to squeeze the base, twist the inside, and the little plug would pop up. There was a video on this procedure which my husband had watched but I didn't want to get up from where I was watching "Undercover Boss" on TV to walk into the den to watch the video. I figured I could conquer this little implement. I turned the little thingie over and over in my hand, pushed, prodded, stretched and pondered. How would I work if I were this, I asked myself? By putting myself into the head of the little black thingie I was able to, quite by accident the first time, figure it out. My husband was happy.
He said that the whole procedure of changing the bulbs took him three hours. He guessed it should have been about a 45 minute job which included driving to Ace Hardware to get the bulbs. He thought that without my help it would have taken him four hours. To myself, I added two days to that estimate. If it had been me, I would have been at the Toyota dealer with my checkbook.
And that's what I think about it.
If I had been home alone and discovered this, I would have called the dealer and made an appointment. Or I would have stopped in at the local auto parts to see if they sold, and then installed, whatever it was I needed.In the meantime I would have driven only during the daylight hours.
However, our handy glove box contained our car manual which, on page 83, showed in less than detailed detail, how to change this bulb at home, by yourself, without the added cost of labor. That appealed to my husband.
That would not have bothered me, paying the labor, having someone else under the hood, but my husband bless his heart, decided to purchase the bulb and change it himself. Please remember that my husband can write an iron-clad Will but missed out on the auto-mechanic class in high school.
He went out and bought two bulbs, with the thought that the second would soon be needed on the passenger side of the car and why not anticipate the need. He planned to replace both bulbs.
We have a foreign car; a foreign car built by nationals traditionally small in statue. And so when the manual called for my husband to reach in and release the dead bulb, by first grabbing both ends of the thingie and then pushing on the release button he ran into his first dilemma. Doing the math, that procedure would require three hands. That's where I came in, or out..to the garage.
First, I followed his instructions about how it should come apart. Then, after failing at that, I looked at the diagram in the manual. It was easier after that since I now knew what to push on to release the bulb which was not part of the oral instructions I was given.
After the bulbs were replaced came something called putting the panel back on with eight little black plastic thingies with came with a new set of instructions. One was supposed to squeeze the base, twist the inside, and the little plug would pop up. There was a video on this procedure which my husband had watched but I didn't want to get up from where I was watching "Undercover Boss" on TV to walk into the den to watch the video. I figured I could conquer this little implement. I turned the little thingie over and over in my hand, pushed, prodded, stretched and pondered. How would I work if I were this, I asked myself? By putting myself into the head of the little black thingie I was able to, quite by accident the first time, figure it out. My husband was happy.
He said that the whole procedure of changing the bulbs took him three hours. He guessed it should have been about a 45 minute job which included driving to Ace Hardware to get the bulbs. He thought that without my help it would have taken him four hours. To myself, I added two days to that estimate. If it had been me, I would have been at the Toyota dealer with my checkbook.
And that's what I think about it.
Wednesday, August 1, 2012
Farewell to Past Olympic Events
Even with the dozens of events at this year's summer Olympics, some events have not been offered in competition for decades. What ever happened to:
Solo Synchronized Swimming? From 1985 to 1992, this event featured one swimmer in sync with her music performing what could only be viewed as a lonely ballet in the pool.
Club Swinging? Clubs resembling bowling pins were used in a twisting, twirling kind of routine, the harder and more intricate the better. This was the precursor of the rhythmic hoops and ribbons. Club swinging ended as an event in 1932.
Live Pigeon Shooting? The 1900 Olympics in Paris had the great distinction of being the first Games where women competed. It also wore the ignoble badge for this sport, where athletes aimed to bring down as many pigeons as possible. Nearly 300 birds were slain, historians say, leaving a bloody, feathery mess. The winner shot down 21 pigeons.
Swimming Obstacle Course? The venue was the Seine river, where swimmers had to dodge obstacles floating in the river and even climb a pole at one point. They climbed over and swam under boats and other flotsam placed there for the enjoyment of the spectators.
La Canne? Same as fencing but using a cane, yes the very type of cane used to steady one's wobbly legs as one ages.
Trampoline and Rope Climbing? Not anymore. Gym teachers took over these events and moved them into high school Physical Education classes.
How about long jump and high jump...for horses?
Only women could compete in croquet. This event garnered so little interest that only one spectator ticket was sold and the event was canceled in subsequent Olympics.
(thanks to CNN and npr on-line for most of the above information)
And that's what I think about it.
Solo Synchronized Swimming? From 1985 to 1992, this event featured one swimmer in sync with her music performing what could only be viewed as a lonely ballet in the pool.
Club Swinging? Clubs resembling bowling pins were used in a twisting, twirling kind of routine, the harder and more intricate the better. This was the precursor of the rhythmic hoops and ribbons. Club swinging ended as an event in 1932.
Live Pigeon Shooting? The 1900 Olympics in Paris had the great distinction of being the first Games where women competed. It also wore the ignoble badge for this sport, where athletes aimed to bring down as many pigeons as possible. Nearly 300 birds were slain, historians say, leaving a bloody, feathery mess. The winner shot down 21 pigeons.
Swimming Obstacle Course? The venue was the Seine river, where swimmers had to dodge obstacles floating in the river and even climb a pole at one point. They climbed over and swam under boats and other flotsam placed there for the enjoyment of the spectators.
La Canne? Same as fencing but using a cane, yes the very type of cane used to steady one's wobbly legs as one ages.
Trampoline and Rope Climbing? Not anymore. Gym teachers took over these events and moved them into high school Physical Education classes.
How about long jump and high jump...for horses?
Only women could compete in croquet. This event garnered so little interest that only one spectator ticket was sold and the event was canceled in subsequent Olympics.
(thanks to CNN and npr on-line for most of the above information)
And that's what I think about it.
Sunday, July 29, 2012
Olympics from the Couch
It's that time again. Every two years, first in the summer and then in mid-winter, sports figures fill the TV screen, and the phone screen, and the IPad, some streaming live feeds, others playbacks of events of the 30th Summer Olympiad.
Where my mind might never bring to mind rowing, badminton, boxing, archery or beach volleyball (to name a few) during the four years between summer games, suddenly I am not only watching these sports but am becoming an expert in their history, the players' bios, and receiving a renewed education of the ever-changing geography of the world.
Some countries have hundreds of athletes; others a few; a few just one.
Some parade around the Opening Ceremonies in native dress of their countries. Others in designer duds, but all in the colors of their countries' flag.
I am again, as I am nearly every two years, appalled and incredulous regarding the commentaries that accompanying the games and even more so with the interviews of the athletes. One commentator asked an athlete who had just won a silver medal why she thought she hadn't gotten gold. An interview with a boxer offered this snippet, "Well, I just trained hard and kept hitting him until I found my pace." Another boxer who "came to the ring through thunderous applause" was soon seen kissing the mat.
Another asked an obviously stunned loser what had happened. What had happened was that he lost. (I suppose I would not make a very good interviewee. I would be using the "Doh!" word way too often).
Another asked a swimmer what it would take for her to take home the gold. Doh! It would take her to swim faster than anyone else in the pool at that time.
I watched the road race (biking) like I watch NASCAR; it became interesting only when there was a spill and bikes and riders slid across the road knocking down everything in their path like bowling pins. Now that was worth watching. I was interested in seeing the women's road race because there was a horrific storm coming at them and I figured good TV was about to happen, but I had to get to church so I missed all the fun of the rain and wind.
That's enough for now about the games. Tonight there will be more foil (fencing) replays, men's soccer (although I already know the outcome since I have three apps on my phone for Olympic results and live streaming), and ping pong. I wonder what might have happened if my parents had purchased me a javelin instead of a clarinet.
We'll never know.
And that's what I think about it.
Where my mind might never bring to mind rowing, badminton, boxing, archery or beach volleyball (to name a few) during the four years between summer games, suddenly I am not only watching these sports but am becoming an expert in their history, the players' bios, and receiving a renewed education of the ever-changing geography of the world.
Some countries have hundreds of athletes; others a few; a few just one.
Some parade around the Opening Ceremonies in native dress of their countries. Others in designer duds, but all in the colors of their countries' flag.
I am again, as I am nearly every two years, appalled and incredulous regarding the commentaries that accompanying the games and even more so with the interviews of the athletes. One commentator asked an athlete who had just won a silver medal why she thought she hadn't gotten gold. An interview with a boxer offered this snippet, "Well, I just trained hard and kept hitting him until I found my pace." Another boxer who "came to the ring through thunderous applause" was soon seen kissing the mat.
Another asked an obviously stunned loser what had happened. What had happened was that he lost. (I suppose I would not make a very good interviewee. I would be using the "Doh!" word way too often).
Another asked a swimmer what it would take for her to take home the gold. Doh! It would take her to swim faster than anyone else in the pool at that time.
I watched the road race (biking) like I watch NASCAR; it became interesting only when there was a spill and bikes and riders slid across the road knocking down everything in their path like bowling pins. Now that was worth watching. I was interested in seeing the women's road race because there was a horrific storm coming at them and I figured good TV was about to happen, but I had to get to church so I missed all the fun of the rain and wind.
That's enough for now about the games. Tonight there will be more foil (fencing) replays, men's soccer (although I already know the outcome since I have three apps on my phone for Olympic results and live streaming), and ping pong. I wonder what might have happened if my parents had purchased me a javelin instead of a clarinet.
We'll never know.
And that's what I think about it.
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