I'd Like to Teach the World to Sing . . .

Remember that song?  Wasn't it a Coke commercial?

"I'd like to see the world, for once, all standing hand in hand"

That actually happened recently.  Did you feel it?

The news of Dolly Parton's death spread across the world like a lightning bolt and everyone had the same look of shock and grief on their faces.

When was the last time that happened? When was the last time that someone died that everyone loved?

I was way into adulthood before I appreciated the many layers of Dolly. Before that time (wasn't really into country music) I just thought she was a singer with big hair, big boobs and big dresses.

I'm sure glad I didn't continue in that vain.  I still wasn't much of a country fan (except my eternal love for Willie Nelson) but I started paying attention to what she was paying attention to and didn't hold back on her opinions.

I'm sure you've read and heard the many accolades from all paths of life by now.  She made a huge difference for so many people worldwide.  The legacy she left behind will carry on forever.

Can you think of one single person that could capture the love that  has been shown to Miss Parton this last week?

Me either.

A Challenge for You

 Several years ago I was having a discussion with one of the monks at our temple about concentration/staying in the moment.

He said he challenged himself to watch his hands while completing a task for 5 days!

Huh?  Watch your hands?  Sounded weird but I tried it.  I didn't make it 5 days though.  More like 5 minutes.  I kept at it, when I remembered, and it helps/works.

I have "danger zones."  The kitchen, the bathroom and my bead making areas.  I knock stuff over.  I have cracked a knuckle against a cabinet door more times than I can count, I have scraped the skin off the back of my forearm retrieving something in the back of the fridge.

I seem to go into those places ok - it's coming back out that's the problem. I pay attention while I'm in the "reach mode" and then abandon ship after the grab.

Why?  I stopped looking at my hands.  I was already on to the next thought while I was extracting the mustard or the platter in the dishwasher, or the sock in the washing machine, etc.

When I make beads and later fashion them into bracelets, I'm working in a confined area.   Toothpicks are involved - don't ask - and I'm embarrassed to tell you how many times I've toppled them over.  Some swearing ensued. 

So. Wanna give it a try?  If so, get back to me and let me know how it went.  

  

My Dad's Journey

My dad, Pete Brachman, graduated early from high school back in January of 1937.  My grandparents were hesitant to send him off to college at such a tender age so they put him on a freighter/ship to the far east!  My grandfather was a big wig in the foreign department of Ford at the time so they had business support people on the ship and at many of the ports so off he went - to Japan, China and the Phillipines. 

Several years ago Mom had his experience printed up and we each got a copy.

He also brought back many mementoes and those have been dispersed throughout the family.

I would like to donate the "hat" (Japan or China?) to an organization/school, etc. but I'm at a loss on where to start.

The journel alone is fascinating to read so a copy of that could go along with the hat. 

Your ideas are welcome.

 

An Especially Nice Day

 Yesterday was outstanding.  Mother Nature has been on her best behavior lately and I, for one, really appreciate it.

This post isn't about the weather though.  I experienced two really nice gestures yesterday and wanted to relay the feeling I got from both.

Since moving to Holland I have become a regular at the nearby Meijer.  I know the first names of a handful of staff there and enjoy interacting with these people frequently.

Yesterday I was looking for some oven spray and couldn't find it.  I know the joint by heart so I knew which aisle to head for but didn't see it anywhere.  I finally gave up but on my way toward checking out I saw a young man by the name of Ron.  I called to him and asked if he knew where the oven spray might be.  He lead me right to it - only 4 rows away.  I'd been there twice and didn't see it so I was pretty sure Ron was going to be as unsuccessful as I was but, no.  There it was!  I thanked him profusely and started my departure.  

I realized we were walking side by side and then I noticed he had two bags of chips in his hand and he turned into the self-check area. 

HE WASN'T EVEN WORKING!  IT WAS HIS DAY OFF!

He could have just told me the aisle number and left it at that but he WALKED ME THERE!

Warm and fuzzy feeling #2:

A neighbor down the street has recently moved to a memory care unit so I wanted to chat with his wife and see how she was doing with this recent change. As we were winding down the visit she said she had something for me.  She knew we were Buddhist practitioners and wanted us to have a statue of Buddha that she had on one of her shelves.  She also had a mala and a metal pendant with my favorite chant on it.
I visited a neighbor/friend to offer moral support and left with gifts.

I didn't realize how much I  needed to be reminded that most people are good.  

There are thoughtful, giving hearts out there.

Where Have I Been???

 So my last blog was in 2024.  I haven't posted since then because, I guess, I've put most of my thoughts into Facebook.

But today I heard something on NPR's  The Moth that got me thinking.  Too much thinking for a FB entry.

I heard the last 2 minutes of a man talking about being left out as a kid.  The story must have been pretty gut wrenching because I had tears in my eyes and I hadn't even heard the whole thing.

What got me thinking/reflecting was that I could not relate. I simply couldn't bring up one memory in my young or old life of being left out.  

I felt full of gratitude while listening with a side of guilt.  

When I was a kid I was never aware of what the other kids had and what they didn't have.  Does that make me entitled?

I had 2 parents.  We had 2 cars and a cleaning lady.  We went on vacations (nothing fancy but vacations) together.  

I got a new winter coat every other year.  That's how I remembered it, anyway.

We had dinner together every night.  We had plenty o'food in the house.  Didn't everyone?

I never heard my parents fight.  They probably did but I didn't hear it. 

No one took a belt to my backside.  I honestly don't remember ever being punished for anything.  I sure wasn't an angle either.

I know, I know.  It was a different time back in the 50s and 60s.  But, was it?  

I didn't know to reach out.  I didn't know about the whole compassion/generosity thing.  I just skipped through life enjoying the hell out of every day.

Even today as an almost 77 year old thinking back on my life I feel sad that I was so unaware.

Today at temple I talked about being on the "polar opposite roller coaster" this week.  One minute I felt joy and love as I watched the Buddhist Monks walk for peace.  I felt hopeful when I saw all the people lining the streets.  

And then . . . Minneapolis happened.  I felt outrage and dark despair.

Was I better off as a innocent unaware kid back in the day?

I Had an "I Love Lucy" Moment

 I'll set the scene: me in the kitchen.  Already the setting is ominous. 

I was trying to decide which pasta to make for Petey's dinner.

I had two half boxes of "long" - linguine and  fettuccine -  along with a couple others to contemplate.  Halfway through the decision making process I switched to ravioli so I "carefully" gathered up the two "long" boxes and moved toward the pantry.

Do you see it coming?  Did I set up the foreshadowing good enough for you?

The long boxes were the first to make the pantry journey and I neglected to pay attention to the open ends.

You guessed it! The pasta went flying.  I wasn't even moving fast but those suckers launched themselves into the air and then hit the floor runnin'.

Fortunately, I'd just mopped the floor so I scooped them up in a flash, comingled them into a pot of boiling water and dinner was served!

Just kidding.  Give me some credit.  I wasn't raised by wolves.

The ravioli was delicious, btw.

Three Beautiful Days

Wow, it's been a minute, hasn't it?  Haven't posted here since February.  I think Instagram/Facebook have kinda taken over but not today.

This morning at temple our teacher was talking about loving kindness and she led us through a meditation with it in mind.

She told us to visualize a moment/person/event/place that made a huge impact on our lives.  Something or someone that made our heart almost burst, it was so full of love.

Nothing happened for me at first.  I ruled out the day I got married, the day my son was born - those kind of things - not because they weren't pivotal in my life but something else pushed into my consciousness instead. 

Something that happened recently.

Something(s) that happened over the last three days.

We traveled to Fenn Valley Vineyard on Thursday to hear our friends Kevin and Jerry play.  We'd never been there before and I was blown away by the beauty of the place.  Not only the vineyard itself but the drive there and back.  Country roads.  Some of them we'd been on before and they brought back great memories.  Others were new and so peaceful. Almost like the feel of a rocking chair on an old front porch. 

Friday we drove up to Grand Haven.  We've taken that drive up Lakeshore many, many times and it's always a feast for the eyes.  No matter the time of year.

But Friday was different, I'm not sure why.  The winding road bordered by huge trees with a background of a blue, blue sky made me breath deeply with appreciation.  I said to Peter, "we have our own Tunnel of Trees" right here in our backyard.  I tilted by head back and watched the branches overhead fly by through the sun roof.  

Saturday was a birthday celebration (her 75th) of one of my closest friends.  A lifelong friend.  A friend I have shared many, many laughs and a few tears with over the past several decades.

The drive to her house was different this time because we came at it from a another direction now that we live in Holland and not Allegan anymore.

The vast farmlands spread out in all their splendor.  Corn was everywhere.  Dark, dark green.  Various other colors on the rolling hills were like a picture waiting to be painted.  Maybe by my friend who is a wonderful artist.

Sitting in her yard among many other friends, looking at the pond in this peaceful hidey hole almost made me weep. 

So I guess I am now sharing my loving kindness with you.  A loving kindness for our beautiful surroundings.  

Age of Reflextion

 Two days ago I attended a Celebration of Life for a very good friend. The next day (yesterday) marked one year since one of my very, very best friends died.

I started thinking of all the women that I have shared space with; it's a long list.

I think, well, I know, I appreciated their friendship at the time.  Most of them but not all, I didn't realize until many years later how very grateful I was to have known them. 

I'm leaving family members off this list because - I loved them all and miss them a ton so . . . enough said.

I'm also sure I'll miss a few but in my way of keeping my blogs short-ish, here goes.

My kindergarten teacher, Miss Adams, was so kind and encouraging.  I remember her soft voice and presence.

Mary Hearn and Elnora Simpson.  Hard working women and possessed patience from the gods.

Pat Ankney.  She expected your best and got it - if it killed us.

Sue Johnson Lange who still rides along with me most every day.

Pat Higgs Miller who showed me how to tell the funniest damn stories -  about myself. She deserved an Oscar for her tales.

Kathi Proper - who filled my life with joy every nano-second we spent together.

Gwen DeBruyn who encouraged me constantly with my jewelry.

There are more but I promised to keep it short-ish.

Take a moment and reflect on the gifts left behind by people you loved and admired.

Glasses

 Not the ones on the dinner table.  I'm talking about the ones on your face.

I always say I've been wearing glasses since I was 9 years old and I'm pretty sure I'm right but I've been known to confuse dates and times. It's kinda my "thing."  I'm famous, I mean world famous for it.

So, anyway.  I've had them riding on my nose for decades.  

I tried bifocal contact lenses several years ago and it didn't go well.

I actually don't mind wearing glasses.  My first pair of red frames set me on a "snazzy" path.  Hey, if ya gotta wear them, might as well have fun.

Along with advancing age (I'm a hair's breadth away from 75) other fun stuff happens to your eyes: dry eye, glaucoma, cataracts, etc.

Petey and I both have cataracts but we're hoping to out-live the surgery. Neither one of us have started to exhibit symptoms - yet.

But if, in fact, surgery happens I decided I'm not going to go with the corrective lens option.  

Why, you say?  Don't you want to toss those specs and run free?

No, I don't.  Glasses to me are like "face jewelry."  They cover up stuff.  You know what I'm talking about - bags and wrinkles.

I need to distract attention not call attention.

I've also seen people after surgery that are still carrying around "cheaters or readers" when they need help up close or far away depending on what they had corrected.

What's the point?  I'd have to always make sure I had that back-up assistance as opposed to now when I don't have to look in my purse or pat my pockets looking for the dang things.

Nah.  I'll stick with getting new frames every 3-5 years (hopefully) just to keep life interesting.

Pics: the good, the bad and the ugly

 I love taking pictures with my cell phone.  I don't think I did much of that when I had a Tracfone - maybe because I couldn't?  Can't remember.

Well, life opened up in a big way when I moved up to an iphone.  Thanks, Lisa.  

I recently upgraded from a #7 to a #14 and I feel like the picture quality is much better.  I'm sure there are a lot of super cool things I can do with it but I'm happy at this point with the results.

I love saving memories.  I love getting screen grabs from my nieces' FB or IG accounts. I love sending pictures of my bruised knuckle to my sisters.

Probably the biggest benefit for me right now is that I can record (video) myself playing my ukulele and singing songs to send to a group of friends living with serious health conditions.

The other plus showed its self today while we were decorating the house for Christmas.  I'd forgotten that I'd taken pictures of where everything went.  Whew.  Saved some time there.

The ugly happened when Peter thought we elevated the tree a bit last year - using a stool.  I was like "no, didn't happen."  Then I started to doubt myself so I went back to the pics from last year.

Dang it!  There it was.  The stool we used to make the tree more visible so all our neighbors could take joy in our elaborate show of the holiday! 

Did I mention it's a Charlie Brown tree?  

Now for the ugly.  Last week in downtown Holland there was a contest.  The deal was to take a picture of yourself at one of the local stores or restaurants and submit it to the city.  The prize was a gift certificate to one of the shops or eateries.

Dining at our favorite - Hops at 84 East - I grabbed the menu, held it up to my face and took a pic.  I didn't look at it until after the menus had been taken away which was a huge mistake.

Why you ask?  Because with my white hair and having the light behind me the result was freakish!  Not to mention way, way too close.  EEEEEEEEEEK!

I was too embarrassed to ask for a menu again and was pretty sure the result was going to be the same so I just shot the wreath above the door and submitted that.

I didn't win.

The pictures are still a gift.  I love going back, often with tears, and look at the people I miss and taking joy in seeing new and old friends and of course, family that are still hangin' around.

I'll be happy if your "take away" is to photograph your decorations if nothing else.

Music buddies

 I like to sing but I'm not a musician.  Yes, I picked up the ukulele a few years ago and I'm really enjoying it but there's nothing natural that's happening on that instrument. My goal, from the start, was to accompany myself in my little den here at The Red House.  I missed singing so the uke has helped me fill that void.

This time of year has me really reflecting.  Many experiences and people have been running through my mind like crazy little rabbits lately.

One category that's at the head of the memory train is: Musician friends that are no longer here.  I had the pleasure of standing on the same stage as the men I'm going to mention.

Fred Gibson:  I first met Fred when he was in elementary school and hung out at the playground I was working at for my summer job.  I pumped him daily for info on his older brother.  I had a big crush going on back then and needed some insight.  

After that summer I didn't see much of Fred until my Cabaret days.  He was like magic on the stage.  He tore it up.  He owned it.  There were times I considered trying to talk him into running away with me.

His life ended abruptly and way too soon.  He left a big hole in everyone's heart.

Bobby VanStee:  I met Bobby (a lot of people called him Gus) many years ago through a mutual friend. That friend (Mary Spreitzer) and I were rehearsing a song (Desperado) at her house.  She sang it and I interpreted it in American Sign Language.  

There sat Bobby on Mary's couch with his dog, Emmy Lou, with tears running down his face.

Bobby didn't read music.  He sat down at his keyboard and stuff just happened.  His ear was finely tuned.

I was lucky enough to have some meaningful phone (Facetime) chats with Bobby toward the end of his life.  His death still caught me off guard.  I sure miss that big man.

Mitch Wooster: "Rooster," the one-man band.  I remember going into Mitch's record store in downtown Allegan looking for, what I thought, was an obscure musician's Blues music: Delbert McClinton. Mitch knew exactly who I was talking about and ordered some tapes for me right away.

I saw/heard Mitch play many, many times but I didn't appreciate what an outstanding musician he really was until years later.  It was like I was seeing him for the first time and he blew me away.

He helped me out on some recording problems I was having and we also had several private Facebook chats about politics and life. We shared "the same page."

Last time we talked in person was a quick chat at the Eagles.  If I'd known he was going to leave this life soon after that day, I would have stayed longer.

Noah Smith:  Noah was a force to be reckoned with.  He paid me the highest compliment when I sang my first solo ("Whole Lotta Shakin' Goin' On," the Big Maybelle version) at Cabaret many years ago.  "Who were you channeling for that?"

Noah's body took a real blow by some weirdo disease and movement was limited.  The last time I saw him perform he couldn't lift a glass but he could still sing.  The man was determined.

When I started playing the ukulele, Noah gave me some great advice during one of our phone calls.  Some chords were difficult for my old fingers and he said "oh, hell, you don't have to play all the chords.  Just skip the one that's hard and pick up on the other side."

Thanks, buddy.

These men all left wonderful memories behind.  Great stories that will hopefully be shared for years to come.

Cell phones

 I've written about cell phones before.  There are so many things I love about them.  They have opened up a whole new world but lately . . . 

We watch a lot of movies and series on Netflix and sometimes Prime and I've noticed over the past few years that cell phones are playing a big part in the entertainment field.  So much so that if you see someone pick up a "real" phone then you know you're watching a really old flick.

We've seen actors record confessions from unsuspecting bad guys and many, many funny scenes where cell phones are pivotal to the plot.

Here's my complaint: when a message comes in it is sometimes shown in the air so WE CAN ALL READ IT.  Super cool idea.

Most often, though, you only see a shot of the phone itself with the teeny tiny message displayed. 

Who do they think is able to read that???  And you only get a nano-second to decipher! If it could be frozen and I felt like getting up off the couch and crawling up to the TV, then I'd be able to see the message. But I'm all comfy, you know, so I let it pass me by with some grumpy mumbling under my breath.  

When they're making a movie isn't there a time, like maybe at the end of the day, where someone sits in a room to see what the day's shooting looks like?  Didn't that person realize the text can NOT be read by anyone without binoculars at the ready?

Often times that unreadable text is important!  Like where the body is buried or when the lovers are supposed to meet and run away together.

So, who to I write to so I can lodge my complaint? 

I'm not going to send a text.  Maybe an email.  Or maybe, just maybe,  I'll go old school and put pen to paper.  

Who Are They???

 So I'm doing a little "light" cleaning.  I'm pretty good at it.  I do, at times, go for a "deep clean" but I'm not sure my style is the same as everyone else's.

For example:  I noticed the canisters on my kitchen countertop needed a swipe with a damp cloth followed by a dry cloth to make the streaks disappear.

I began to wonder if the people that really want to hit it actually empty out the container and actually wash it.  Like with soap and water.

Are there people out there that do that???

I know someone, Lisa, that had a really narrow walk-in pantry.  It was so narrow that you really couldn't walk straight into the thing if your shoulders were wider than a third grader.  Well, the person who lived there like a thousand years ago thought it should be wall papered! 

We spent an inordinate amount of speculating how that job was accomplished. Had to be an over-achiever or a contortionist. Or both.

Remember when people used to mop their floors?  I mean on their hands and knees???  Can you imagine?

How about the concept of spring cleaning.  What does that really mean, anyway? Does that mean you move the couch and vacuum behind it? Or completely remove all the clothes in your closet and dust and vacuum?  

I'm exhausted just thinking about it.

As you can tell, I don't ascribe to that style of life.

I am a bit better, though, since we live in a house with all kinds of direct sunlight screaming through the windows now.

Didn't see that coming.  Caught me totally unprepared.

The Sky!

 The sky is amazing!  I have a new found appreciation for the sky.  I think it has to do with my age and my location.

When I was a kid and probably up into adulthood I didn't give the sky a lot of thought except to maybe check to see if the sun was out or if it was raining or snowing.

I do remember seeing a shooting star for the first time and it blew my mind but I would have to say that since moving to Holland the sky has left me breathless at times.

I've mentioned before in a blog that having direct sunlight has been wonderful because we didn't have that in Allegan since we lived at the base of a hill surrounded by very big trees and a large Victorian house next door.

Well, the same goes for access to the sky.  Going for a drive yesterday I practically had my nose pressed to the windshield.  The cloud formations were so dramatic and it looked like you could see forever.  The horizon looked endless.

And then we were treated to this:

And then this morning - this:

Another plus to being on flat land is driving on secondary roads lined with trees.  They're huge!  We had huge trees in Allegan but driving along curvy roads bordered by those big guys feels like driving through a tunnel.

I love looking at the sky - whether it's chocked full of clouds or crystal clear.  I won't miss a day, if I can help it, for the rest of my days.

A Woman's Wise Words

That wise woman was my mom, Nan Brachman.  She said "lose it before you're 30, El."  

I remember like it was yesterday.  Right down to the exact spot those words were uttered.

Here I am, moments away from 75, to tell you that I did lose it.  

And then gained it back and then took it off and then . . . You get the picture right?

The weight loss industry is HUGE in this country and we know why. Because it's so dang hard to lose weight but even harder to keep it off. The percentage of keeping it off is staggering and depressing.

My friend, Paula, introduced me to an app called Lose It several years ago.  It's a food log but so, so much better than the old pencil and paper version.  You know, the one where you had to buy the calorie book, look up a specific food and then weigh and measure it?

Well this app makes it so much easier.  It does a lot for you except you still have to weigh and measure.  It's kind of fun at first.  It still takes  time but worth it cuz, baby, the pounds disappear!

You start digging in the back of the closet to find the shorts that didn't fit this year and then the fashion show begins.

It's wonderful right up until you convince yourself you don't have to weigh and measure anymore.  Why?  Because you know, you really know, how much 3oz is just by looking at it, right?

Move the scale off the counter.  Put the measuring spoons back in the drawer.  You got this!

It only takes a couple of weeks for you to lose sight of exactly what 3oz looks like.  Then one morning you step on the scale and - WHAT THE HECK?  You gained a pound!!!

Last year I reintroduced myself to Lose It for the third time.  She hadn't forgotten me and I felt no judgement on her part.  This time I dragged Petey along for the ride and we both lost.  A lot.  Particularly Petey.  Why is it that men lose more than women?

So where's the lesson here?  It's certainly one I haven't learned.

I do know that whatever plan you decide to use, it has to be one you'll hang on to for frigging ever.  The minute you stop whatever you did to lose the lbs, they'll gradually come back home.

Was this a downer blog?  Do you wish I'd never written it?
Yeah, me too.

I Can't Open This!

 It can't just be me.  Please tell me it's not just me.

Not to sound paranoid but a little bit of me thinks it might be a conspiracy - a plot against my generation.

Let's start with bags.  I'll narrow it down to two - chips and cereal.

I tried for a long time to muscle those things open - pulling from both sides just below the top. It didn't go well.  I used to use my teeth but at this point in life, that's just tempting fate.

Now I have a pair of scissors placed conveniently in a nearby kitchen drawer that are used solely for the annoying bags.  Those scissors are never to be moved under penalty of death.

Jars.  I bought a handy dandy tool several years ago which quickly became my new bestie.  It's made by Oxo (fat handle for ease) and has a "V" opening with teeth which grip the lid.  It's life changing.

It, however, doesn't work in every single situation.

When that happens my next move is to pull out the hammer (which is right next to the scissors) and or the "church key" which is also in the same drawer but back in a corner because it doesn't get a lot of use.

Tapping around the lid with the hammer is a prep maneuver followed by my bestie.  Same goes for the church key - prep and then bestie.

Oh, I  just thought of a another category I have issues with - the ring tab on cans.  I've seen people use the end of a fork or spoon for leverage but my silverware is too wide.

I use my table knife to pry the ring up and hope my strength is at full capacity to finish the task.  I'm still ok in that department but I see issues in my future.

Having to adapt is annoying.  Being able to adapt is something I'm grateful for.   

Pairing

 When I hear or see the word "pairing" it always makes me think of those fancy schmancy restaurants with the extremely long wine list.

The person in the fancy schmancy "wine" clothes comes over to your table (they have a fancy schmancy name but I can never remember what it is) and talk about your possible dinner choices and what wine would pair nicely with each possibility.

I think the same could be said about the cheese person.  I actually found out they have a name as well and it's "cheese monger."  Thank you Jeopardy! for that.  They know a lot about cheese, just like that wine person, and will help you out with pairing a cheese that will go nicely with that frankfurter you'll be throwing on the grill later.

I'm much more familiar with pairing donuts.  Most of the time it's an easy choice and doesn't need much direction.  Donuts always go nicely with a cup of coffee or tea.  Oh, and milk, of course.  Duh.

I was faced with a little pairing dilemma yesterday.  Knowing that a donut would help me recover from "the cold that will not die" I bought one, ok, I bought three but intended on sharing with Petey. 

I'd already eaten breakfast and it was a bit too early for lunch so I felt I should wait.  That wasn't the problem, though.  I wanted to eat that chocolate covered sweet thing at noon but . . . along side a sandwich? That just didn't seem right.  Have cereal for lunch when that's what I had for breakfast? hmmmm What to do, what to do?

It didn't take me long to figure it out.  I had some yogurt with granola for lunch with a side of . . . you guessed it - that donut that had been  staring at me for oh, so long.

They paired nicely.

Who needs fancy schmancy. 

PS - Sommelier (I Googled it)

What happened to the top sheet???

 When was it decided that we no longer need the benefit of a top sheet?

Who made that decision?  Do you think it was just one person or was there a "sheet committee?"

The first few times (in a hotel) when the absence of the top sheet was obvious to me, I thought maybe it was just a "thing" the hotel chain was trying out.  

There wasn't a little card in the room asking me "so, how'd you like not having that top sheet?  What did you do when you felt smothered by the huge/heavy thing (comforter/duvet?) and all you really needed was something light? You know - like a TOP SHEET?"

I would even have accepted a light blanket but there was nothing between me and that 12 pound whatever-we're-calling-that cover.

A few more hotel stays over the past few years and I see that everyone is onboard with this new fad.

Our recent trip out east visiting family was a shock when I saw my own niece had joined forces with the hotel people!

So that means this trend has spread into the private sector.

Yesterday, as I was putting clean sheets on our bed, I handled my top sheet lovingly and may or may not have whispered "I will never let you go."

Cliques

 I was recently having a discussion with people my age and the word "clique" came up.

It has a negative sound to it because cliques were exclusionary.

People who share similar interests and enjoy being together but don't readily allow others to join.

So were you in one in school? Or did you want to be in one but didn't feel welcome?

I had a blast in school and had some great friends.  Some of those friends were ones I'd known since forever and others came along later - the country school and Catholic school kids.

The people I was with when "clique" came up were women I'd gone to school with but never hung out with.  The reason?  They were quiet girls.  Good students.  I was not.

That was pretty much it. I didn't dislike them back then.  I simply didn't know them.

That was why, when this opportunity came up to spend some time with these ladies, I jumped at it. I enjoyed that afternoon and look forward to the next gathering.

At our 50th reunion 6 years ago I realized, as we all sat down for lunch, that I was at "the smart table." Again, more people that I didn't socialize with because - smart, studious, rule followers - wasn't the category anyone would place me in.  And yet?  I had a blast with them and didn't feel awkward.  Not much, anyway.

The reason I decided to address the idea of cliques is because it's been haunting me a bit since then.  Who gets through school unscathed?  Feelings get hurt. We mature, hopefully, and heal.

Your thoughts and comments are welcome.

Three Little Words

Wow.  I haven't written a blog since last September.  I think I've been relying on Facebook and Instagram to keep you abreast of my every move and thought.

I felt like this "thought" needed more space so here I am - back in the blog saddle.

This topic may only resonate with the Medicare crowd but you youngins might enjoy it too.  Stick around.

Everyone knows, whether you choose to accept it or not, that "as we age" (don't you hate that expression?) our memories get a little wonky at times.  

So Medicare decided they needed to check to see if we still had all the marbles we started out with on a yearly basis.

One of those ways was to hand you a piece of paper and ask you to draw the hands on a clock for a specific time. We know how to do that because that's how we grew up but there's that moment of complete panic when you ask yourself "is the short one supposed to be pointing at the hour or is that where the long one goes?"

Whew!  Nailed it.

Now for the challenge.  The nurse tells you 3 words and asks you to repeat them.  She says she'll ask you to repeat them later on in the conversation.  So for me, that means I don't listen to a single word she says from then on because I'm silently saying those dang words in my head.

A few years ago I used a crutch to help me remember.  Sign Language.  I didn't actually move my hands about - didn't want her to think I'd gone completely off my rocker - but made the signs "in my head" and it worked!!!

I recently went in for my yearly physical armed with my secret Sign Language weapon but was still on edge.

First off, I never got to draw the clock.  The task I was most confident in. And then?  NO WORDS TO MEMORIZE.

As I got up to leave I asked about that part of the yearly interogation (I mean physical) and she said "Oh, we don't do that any more.  That's why we sent you the questionaire beforehand.  You know, the 2 pages of questions you filled out and brought in?"

I didn't remember! Maybe they should go back to The Three Little Words.