Weather and music, today they overlap

Posted on Thursday, 30 November 2006 by Mrs. DoF

Wednesday evening, Chris participated in a Guitar Potpourri with other students at ISU.  The weather was cold and rainy and I didn’t expect hardly anybody else to be there, even as a free recital.  Husband and I walked down to campus.  The hall was 3/4 full—ah yes, the tally of mandatory attendance for music students is getting near the end of the semester.

As classical guitar tunes go, this bunch was just fine.  We can tell the kids are getting tired, though, with a few more slip-ups and one guy actually had to start over.  I wanted to jump up and give him a reassuring hugg, and Husband says a blow-dart full of Valium might have come in handy.

The walk home was even colder and wetter.  As soon as we entered the kitchen, my mister set the kettle on to boil so we could have herb tea.  I also slurped some ramen noodles.

Today was the Craft Sale at the Senior Center.  There is a sleet storm, nasty weather.  It’s not very far away, along quiet streets, so I dug out the car and made it over just fine.  Yarn and embroidered items laying out on the tables sure looks better than being stuffed into boxes in the storeroom.
I bought a knitted round dishcloth, done in Christmas red.  I watched the lady work on many of them, and I had told myself that I’d buy one if I got a chance.
Since all 12 of my donated bookmarkers were still waiting, I bought back 3 of them, causing quite a few chuckles amongst the workers.  I know they will go to good homes.
There was a price tag of $10 on my mint blue baby blanket.  It was still there when I left.  At the end of today’s time period, any items remaining will be going to a sale in a couple weeks, in support of another charity.

I decided to stop at McDs for a burger meal.  When it came time to pay, I reached over to the ash tray to grab the correct coins.  There was no ash tray!  I had to pay with my $bill alone.  The window girl asked if everything was okay, so I just nodded and stopped blocking the lane.
When I got home, I checked my car closely and realized its interior wasn’t my usual mess.  It was messy, but not the way I would leave it.
Besides the ash tray full of coins, the flashlight from the glovebox was gone.  It doesn’t look like anything else was taken, mainly because not worth stealing.  The cd player has been broken for years.

I called Husband, who was on his lunch break.  I asked if he can remember the last time he got coins from the ash tray.  He can’t remember.  I don’t either, so I am not positive about burglary today (when the weather is terrible) or another time before.  I decided not to file a police report, especially since I tend to leave the driver’s side door unlocked.  The amount of money wouldn’t have been over $5, but tracking down another ash tray is going to be a major pain.

We had set the VCR to record a PBS presentation about singer James Taylor.  This was a good move, our going to a live recital for our son, but taping tv.
The performances of Taylor’s songs were carried on by others.  He wasn’t on stage until almost the end, and then sang only a couple songs.  Also, this week is griveling and snoveling time, when PBS shows us that it really does have as many commercials as other stations.  They are just crowded together in longer time slots, with phones ringing in the background.
I was very glad this afternoon to have the Fast-forward button on the remote control.

Oh, my, it’s time to be thinking Supper.
Hope your day was fine and dandy.  Stay warm!
~~love and Huggs, Diane

Posted in Family | 3 Comments

the brown truck has nothing on me

Posted on Wednesday, 29 November 2006 by Mrs. DoF

Husband asked if I could deliver something to his office.  He rides his bicycle to work, which makes carrying larger items rather difficult.  He said he would put it into the trunk of the car, then I could bring it by anytime all day.

I went through my usual morning stuff, started the dishwasher, then went out to the car.  The object was a vacuum cleaner.  It didn’t look very big and heavy, just awkward because of the hose and electrical cord.

My mind measured two options, the parking on and near campus, and my edict from two medical people (and the mirror) to get daily exercise.
I decided the exercise would be more useful than spending a few coins in a parking meter, then having to carry the bundle up the walk and into the building anyway.

I found my carry-all bag with the shoulder strap, dropped my wallet into the bottom, got the vacuum cleaner all situated inside, wrapped the strap just so across my chest, then started walking.
I made it to the neighbor’s driveway, then had to set down the bag.  This wasn’t going to work for the mile of distance from house to College of Business building.

I carried it back and returned it to the trunk of the car in our driveway.  I leaned against the fender, still unwilling to admit defeat and start the engine.

The vacuum cleaner has wheels, maybe I could just tow it along.  Maybe if I had a grocery cart, I could push it along ahead of me.  I remember growing up, this one neighbor lady had a nice folding basket she could take on the bus to carry groceries.

A squirrel skittered up to the platform of the neighbor kid’s treehouse, scolding me for invading his space.  When I told him to hush, he went rushing off, using the cable line as his own personal highway.
As I watched him leap into the next tree, my eyes passed our wheelbarrow leaning against the back wall of the garage. 

Hhmmm.  It has wheels, is more than big enough to hold the vacuum cleaner and its hose, and the other bag of stuff going to his office, can be pushed in front of me while I’m walking.

I wheeled it out, then used the porch broom to sweep away most of the dust and leaves clinging to it.  I put the vacuum cleaner, still in the canvas bag, into the bin, dropped the rest of my stuff in, closed the trunk of the car, and got on my way.

The walk down Normal Avenue was uneventful.  That time of day, everybody is pretty much at work or school.  Any retirees looking out their windows might have gotten a few snickers.
Crossing busy Willow Street can be difficult even without pushing a cart, but I made it.  One car turning left around the corner I was standing at, the driver was craning his neck to see what on earth I might have in there!
Getting through the north parking lot was fine, but what about the steps going up to the plaza?  I didn’t want to have to walk all the way around the library to the handicapped ramp.
Ah yes, the Bone Center’s elevator.  I pushed the button for the Handicapped door to remain open, rambled in to use the up elevator, and made it out to the plaza no problem.

Crossing the Quad, nobody paid any attention to me.  All the students have either buds for the Ipod or a cell phone keeping their interest.  A couple college professors walked past, chatting together.

Outside the building, I debated about how best to get to the office.  Ah well, the elevator was good at the last place, we can do it this time, too.  Again, I used the Handicapped button, the door swung open, found the elevator (first time I have had to use it there—the steps are near the door and easy height), and made our way to the Tech’s office.
The student worker at the door seemed a bit skeptical until I told her that I’m a wife.  Ah, no problem, she waved me on.

The fun part was back in the office.  I couldn’t get the wheelbarrow past all the piles in the aisle.  Husband heard my voice and came out of the cubicle.
The look of surprise on his face is firmly planted in my memory.
“I, I thought you would be bringing the car?!?” he mumbled.
A co-worker stuck his head around the partition.
Husband looked over at him and said “I just never know what she’ll be doing next.”

I motioned for him to come over to get the stuff, since I couldn’t push any further in.
A few more words, then I was on my way again.

The next stop was the post office.  I pushed the wheelbarrow to a bicycle rack, ran my bicycle cable through the handle, and locked it to the pole.
I walked on, carrying only my bag with wallet and package in it.  It felt so free! I was able to do a brisk pace.

When I got back, a college student was at the rack with his own bicycle.  He said he wondered why a wheelbarrow was locked there, and ya just never know what happens on a college campus.

Most of the walk home, I pulled the empty wheelbarrow behind me like a wagon.  Big mistake.  My wrists are not happy with that position, and they told me so most of the evening.

I did get some crocheted bookmarks done by request.  They are wet and getting blocked on the pins.
No pictures, they are to be a surprise for someone at church, although I don’t think she reads here.

~~love and Huggs, Diane

 

 

Posted in Thinking | 2 Comments

Not his favorite type of tunes

Posted on Monday, 27 November 2006 by Mrs. DoF

As I mentioned before, for a couple weeks now, our local radio stations have been playing songs of the holiday season.
Then at Truths and Half Truths, Nilbo talks about rehearsals for the Christmas program at his daughter’s church.  He was persuasive enough that I ordered We Three Kings as my second album of the season.

Sunday afternoon, Husband and I had a little trip to Wally World.  He was looking for a part for his bicycle.  I went along because I didn’t seem to have anything I’d rather be doing than being a companion in a store a month before Christmas.

The two places he needed to stop was the aisle for bicycle parts and the whipped cream refrigerator.
About halfway between those was an island display of compact discs- -all full of music of the holiday season.
Now, I’ve already got two “new” cds coming my way, ordered from the Internet, so I don’t need any at all of these.  But why else would the store have them right out there unless I should at least LOOK!?!  Something about holding the wrapped plastic in my hands and studying the small print song list makes the music seem more valuable.

Husband stopped and stood alongside me, even picked up a cd or two and looked at the artwork.
He says a good singer doesn’t need to waste time on doing holiday music.  Something about being a prostitute to the record company, and needing to pay off the mansion.

On the other hand, I love Christmas songs.  I have been known to play a cd when the weather is 90o outside.  I was looking at the one by James Taylor that Junie has, the new one by Sarah MacLachlan, and a few by people I know only from reading the magazines in the checkout lane at Kroger’s.

This caught my eye.  My Dad loved him some Dean Martin.  This album has “I’ve got my love to keep me warm” (go look the lyrics up for yourself, the flashing ads are annoying) which was also on a vinyl record Dad played over and over and over.  Whenever I see Dean Martin, I remember my own dad, they are of the same generation.  Come to think of it, maybe that’s another reason I like the movie Return to Me so much, all those old guys arguing about the old singers.
Anyway, I decided I would buy this cd, for old timers sake, so to speak.  I had the cash in my purse, a little gift for me to while away these hours I’m in front of the monitor.

My ears couldn’t quite catch any more of Husband’s mutterings, as he was striding towards pumpkin pie and whipped cream at a pace too fast for me to risk any more stops for browsing.

When we got to the self-serve checkout (the one he almost always uses), I pulled out my wallet, then waited for him to scan his items.  At the last one, he hesitated, then extended his hand towards me.  I asked what did he need?  His finger pointed to the cd in my hand, so I gave it to him.  He scanned it, dropped it into the bag, punched the ‘Finish & Pay’ button, and used his debit card to complete the transaction.

When we got to the car, I asked why did he buy the cd for me when I did have money, and he doesn’t like the type of music. He said he doesn’t want me to worry about running out of cash for when we go to breakfast at McDs, which is a much more worthwhile time of being together.

So this morning we were having breakfast at McDs, our usual Monday morning.  We see the same people, who order the same things.  Talk about a sense of community.

Apparently, since Thanksgiving is already over, McDs executives have decided it is now okay to play holiday music on the store speaker system.  And talk about some really really awful renditions of Santa coming to town (rap version) and coming home for Christmas (whoever she is, the girl can’t carry a tune in a bucket).  Any of the songs on any of my albums cannot be nearly that bad.  Well, maybe a couple.

Again, my spouse mentioned the reason for such abominations is to pay the rent.

Sigh…this is going to be a long month, with many wonders.

My new cd joins others in my box.

Maybe later, I’ll write some history of these.

~~love and Huggs, Diane

Posted in Family, Partner | 2 Comments

More than you’ll ever care to know about my fingernails

Posted on Saturday, 25 November 2006 by Mrs. DoF

When I was born in the middle of the 1950s, my mother was told that her milk wasn’t good enough to nourish me.  Well, no wonder, we stayed in the hospital for 12 days after delivery, with mom on bedrest, and the nurses holding me hostage in the nursery except for feeding every 4 hours.
By the time we went home, neither one of us knew what we were doing about bonding.
Dad said I always wanted to suck…my fingers, his finger, a nearby blanket….so I was given a pacifier.  They didn’t get it away from me until after I passed my 3rd birthday.
Then I started biting my fingernails.

I can remember my grandma smacking my thumb away from my mouth and telling me it was a terrible thing to bite my nails.
My Second Grade teacher made me sit with my hands under my legs unless I was actually doing work.  It’s hard to hold a book open when hands are on the chair.  Yet reading is prime nail-biting time.

My next door neighbor lady taught me how to do the chain and single crochet stitches because she said it would keep my hands busy and I wouldn’t be tempted to bite my nails.
When Grandma saw I was so interested in crochet, she taught me how to read a pattern.
They were right, when I crochet, my nails are safe.

Mom put nasty tasting ointment on my fingers.
My Aunt Lola, the beautician, polished my little bits and said the colors would taste awful.  All that did was give me something to scrape off rather than bite the ends.

Nothing worked until I was a Senior in high school.  A really cute boy who was in the choir noticed me gnawing on a fingernail.  He came over, took my hand in his and said my fingers would look so much better if I could let my nails grow and put some polish on them.  He said blood didn’t count as a good color.  He said he would give me $5 if I would quit biting my nails by Christmas.

Dang, those next 3 months were so difficult.  But I quit biting my nails.  They didn’t grow very fast.  I think that was because I was busy folding newspapers on my route.  The day before Christmas vacation, I held out my hands to show him my nails—all filed smoothe and polished.  He didn’t remember his offer at all.  He was the type who would flirt and say any line he could think of just to talk to a girl.
He did get this self-conscious teenager to quit biting my nails when all else failed.

At high school graduation, I wore a royal blue nail polish.  The guy who sat next to me during all the practices and ceremony had known me since Third Grade, had heard the teacher admonishments over the years.  He reached over and took my hand into his, rubbing his thumb over my pristine nails.  It was one of the sweetest gestures I can ever remember.  He placed my hand back into my own lap, where the blue polish looked wonderful against my white gown.  I was so pleased to have my hands looking so nice that a friend wanted to hold one for awhile.

The next year I was in LPN school.  When it was time to go out doing clinical work, the Instructor lined us up in the practice lab and had us hold up our hands like we were in the middle of a bank robbery.  Already we knew that nail polish was not allowed.  Now we learned all fingernails had to be clipped so short they could not be seen over the tips of our fingers.  There was a lecture for the reasons of this rule, mostly so that inadvertent scratches on patients would not happen.

When I was working as an LPN, one night I had an assignment to clean respiratory equipment.  I couldn’t find a new box of rubber gloves, and was a bit lazy in not going to the supply room to get some.  I used some very strong disinfectant solution without gloves, thinking just this one time would be all right.
Famous last words of a girl who knows it all at age 21.
The cuticles on three fingers got opened and sore and infected.  I missed a couple days work until the antibiotics, both by mouth and ointment, took hold.
The doctor who gave me the okay to return to work told me to be careful when trimming and to not wear nail polish for at least 6 months so the nail bed could breathe and recover.
That was long enough to get me out of the habit, so I haven’t worn nail polish since.

I’ve been on thyroid hormone pills since August.  My strong fingernails are about the best side effect to come from this.  Other than having shiny and bouncy hair while I was pregnant, I never gave a thought to hormones doing so many extra jobs within the body.
I also have been using a nice hand lotion by AVEENO.

My fingernails have grown so long I consider them bothersome.
The longest I have ever let them grow, really.  So I asked my in-house photographer to take a picture.  He positioned my hands just right for the sun to highlight the tips of my fingers.

Fifteen minutes later, I cut and filed my nails.
Sunday morning, I’ll have no worries about breaking a nail when I’m getting coffee and snacks ready for Fellowship Hour.

Besides, everybody will be asking about my eye.

~~love and Huggs, Diane

Posted in Personal | 4 Comments

Begun by someone else, then finished by me

Posted on Friday, 24 November 2006 by Mrs. DoF

A few weeks ago, someone donated a bunch of yarn and partially completed projects to the Senior Center.  In one of the bigger bags was crocheted pastel squares of three colors, done in sport weight, acrylic yarn.  Some were sewn together, beside the rest of each color in its own gallon size plastic zipper bag.

The group leader thought I should be able to make something nice out of it.  I told her I would do my best, but I wasn’t going to try to make more squares to the correct gauge, nor follow the layout scheme very closely.
Whoever worked the squares is right-handed and does not weave in the ends while working.

This is what I started with

I arranged, then re-arranged, then moved the squares again.  I don’t like the tedious task of sewing squares together, so I also tried to set them so I could crochet rows with a slip stitch.  It goes much quicker, allows the ends to be covered as I work, plus gives a bit more bulk and warmth for the afghan.
I finally got them into a suitable arrangement, then tied them together with bright red thread to make sure they stayed the way I wanted them.

I worked the scalloped edge border last Tuesday evening.  I figured I could weave in the ends and get it done while watching the Thanksgiving Parade on the holiday morning.

Although I did get some of the ends hidden and clipped before noon and time to fix the turkey, I finally finished with the yarn today while listening to my newly arrived Lou Rawls album.

I carried it outside to show Husband. He was busy applying wax to his VW Beetle.

The afternoon light was really pretty, so I decided to cross the driveway and toss the afghan onto my basic gray car and get the picture.
The thing has to go through the laundry anyway to make sure the knots hold.  I’m not going to promise on that—I have never seen a granny square tied off quite this way before, and I didn’t check each and every of the 14 x 14 = 196 squares.

It will be in the craft sale at the center on Thur 30 November
~~love and Huggs, Diane

Posted in Crochet | 8 Comments

Low-key Eats for Just Us

Posted on Wednesday, 22 November 2006 by Mrs. DoF

I’m making a list and checking it against what I have in the pantry.
The menu for our T-day is
a fresh, never frozen, free-range turkey, raised on an Amish farm
gravy
StoveTop stuffing from a mix
washed, peeled, cooked, mashed with sour cream potatoes, definitely gravy
boiled and buttered sweet potatoes
green bean casserole, which I only make twice a year
pumpkin dessert squares, using canned pumpkin
whipped cream from a pressure can
cranberry sauce from a can

when I think of how many dishes were set out on the table at my Aunt Sylvia’s house, and how many people were going to eat there, and how many cousins there were to help do the dishes

then I remember all the hollering and doors slamming

Relatives, hmmm.

Only the four of us here at mealtime.
Plenty of phone calls happen on the holidays.
Celebrating from a distance.

~~love and Huggs, Diane

Posted in Family | 7 Comments

Digital camera for educational use

Posted on Tuesday, 21 November 2006 by Mrs. DoF

The bruise on my left eye caused when I walked into the edge of a door and pushed my glasses into my face.

Subject: Diane Wiman


Photos taken by Chris Wiman

Posted in Personal | 10 Comments

Errands Aplenty

Posted on Monday, 20 November 2006 by Mrs. DoF

this card is from the Pondering Pool

The knock on the head really did addle my brain.  I had several errands to do, and I didn’t plan my route very well.  The same intersection 3 different times from various points of the compass.
And in one parking lot, I was standing by a cart corral, looking all over for our dark red Chevy Astro van.
Trouble with thoughts going thataway, our van died over a year ago.  We had to clear out the debris and pay the towing fee.  It took me a couple minutes to remember doing the activity.  Then I had to really tug on a memory for what color is the car I’m driving now.  A little silver 4 door.  I found it 3 lanes over, parked next to the newly planted little tree I used to mark the spot.

I had a couple boxes to drop off at the thrift store.  But I was passing a grocery store, and remembered I need old-fashioned oats.  There was beef and chicken on Clearance because today is the expiration date.  $30 gone because of a box of oats.  The fridge is full, and oven heating up.

The box still needed to be dropped off, so I did.  Then I went over to the main entrance and proceeded to look things over.  As I was in line to pay a quarter for a small bowl, I remembered foodstuffs waiting in the trunk of the car on a sunny day.

Carrying everything inside, I got a look at the clock on the kitchen wall.  Why I hadn’t checked the clock on the dashboard of the car, I can’t say.  It was 8 hours since breakfast.  Yet I hadn’t felt hungry until that very minute when I noticed the time.

I microwaved some leftover soup, then decided supper can be chicken.

My gracious goodness, what a day.  It reminds me of message getting around about having ADD—Aging Deficit Disorder.  Being very busy, but getting nothing done.

~~love and Huggs, Diane

Posted in Uncategorized | 2 Comments

Open Door not so good

Posted on Monday, 20 November 2006 by Mrs. DoF

There was a dinner at church today.  I helped the Youth Group and the sponsors in the kitchen, and by the time dishes from almost 100 people were done, we were fairly well tuckered out.
Since I usually go back over in the evening anyway, I told the kids to just leave the last 4 racks to air dry.  This included the silverware and water glasses.
I never saw anybody drop dishtowels so fast before.

Around 6 pm, I get to the building and it is dark.  Choir practice was cancelled.  Letting myself in with the key, I turned on the library lights, hung up my jacket on the coat rack and walked down the hallway towards the kitchen.  The light from the library was behind me, and a red EXIT light ahead.

I turned to my left towards the kitchen, hand outstretched, reaching for the knob.  My hand remained empty as I walked right into something—- the edge of the door, which had been propped open.

I saw stars!  My glasses were hanging awkwardly from my right ear.  I sank to my knees, reaching up to learn if blood was dripping.
It took a minute to get my bearings.  I could see the nightlight in the kitchen, at a different angle than I usually see it.  Maybe because the door is usually closed when I head that way at that time of the evening.

It took a couple minutes to get my glasses adjusted enough to return them to my face.  I’ll have to go back to the optometrist yet again.

I went about my task of putting away the dishes.

On the way out, I decided to stop for a potty break, before going into the cold outside.  It had been about 30 minutes since my accident.  As I was washing my hands, I stared into the mirror over the sink and realized there is quite a bump on my forehead, my lip is swollen, and it hurts when I wink my left eye.

When I got home, I called over to Husband and said he should come look at me in a brighter light.  He asked if I am going to tell everybody that he did it.
I said No, I’ll say I ran into a door.  It’s the truth.

He sneered and said nobody will buy that line at all.

I watched a couple tv shows.  The sitting still caused my shoulder to get a bit stiff.  There’s also a bruise forming at my collar bone.

Some Ibuprofen is beginning to help ease the aches.
We’ll see what morning brings.

~~love and Huggs, Diane

Posted in Personal | 5 Comments

A song already ordered

Posted on Friday, 17 November 2006 by Mrs. DoF

I was driving home from dropping off Chris for his last class before Thanksgiving Break (yes, I do take good care of youngest son).
There are 2, yes TWO! radio stations in the area already playing Christmas music.
One is handy in the car’s punch buttons, so I left it going.
On came a really nice song, a man and a woman flirting back and forth about it’s cold outside.  So pretty that I wanted to pull over to listen all the better.

Miracle of Miracles, the announcer told us the song title and who the singers are!  Baby, It’s Cold Outside

As soon as I got home, I had to come look. 
  Lou Rawls album Seasons 4 U

It might be on any of his other holiday albums, but I liked the idea that this one has more than Christmas music.  I clicked all the proper buttons to buy a good used cd.
The woman is Dianne Reeves. I am quite tempted to get a couple of hers.

The song is also listed on a James Taylor album.  Junie likes it

Ah, wishes and money and dreams of the holiday season.

~~love and Huggs, Diane

Posted in Reviews | 4 Comments