6/29/07:
Happy Birthday!
Today is my brother Don's (always known to me and much of the family as Donnie) birthday, he is all of 51— still just a kid. Don and his wife Terrie took a lot of time out of their busy schedules to visit me when I was in Michigan a couple of weeks ago; it was nice of them and I had a great time seeing them. Don and Terrie are happy newer grandparents and Don's picture links to a cute recent picture of their grand-daughter Harlie, who lives in Texas.
Have a great year Donnie, Happy Birthday.
If people don't want to come out to the ballpark, how are you going to stop them?— Yogi Berra
6/26/07:
The raspberries are ready, and we are picking and eating, eating and picking. Jay says this is what life is all about, and I say "yes, indeed".
Recipe: drizzle some good balsamic vinegar over clean berries (in a dish), then generously sprinkle with sugar. Stir a little, then let sit, stirring every once in a while. When the berry mix has sat for 30 minutes or so you have a decision to make: just gobble them up, juice and all, or have over shortcake, ice cream or whatever. Yum!
REMAINDER OF A LIFE
If I were told:
By evening you will die,
so what will you do until then?
I would look at my wristwatch,
I'd drink a glass of juice,
bite an apple,
contemplate at length an ant that has found its food,
then look at my wristwatch...
I'd sit until noon alive at my desk
but wouldn't see the trace of color in the words,
white, white, white...
I'd prepare my last lunch,
pour wine in two glasses: one for me
and one for the one who will come without appointment,
then I'd take a nap between two dreams.
But my snoring would wake me...
so I'd look at my wristwatch:
and there'd be time left for reading...
That's it, then?
That's it, that's it.
Then what?
Then I'd comb my hair and throw away the poem...
this poem, in the trash,
and put on the latest fashion in Italian shirts,
parade myself in an entourage of Spanish violins,
and walk to the grave!
— Mahmoud Darwish (Translated, from the Arabic, by Fady Joudah)
6/24/07:
Jay did a lot in the yard this weekend, putting his new weed wacker to work. We also bought a couple of nice plastic barrels with screw-off lids that will make better rain barrels. Speaking of rain, the sky was dark today, then broke out in some sunshine Jay took advantage of to do more outside. Later thunder rumbled in the distance, likely in the mountains. As I drove into town a huge rainbow appeared, ending in a field with a glow— the pot must have been a shallow one, because I could not see it from the road.
Our raspberries are ripening, the spinach is done for now. I made nut bread today with the last of our frozen shredded zucchini, in anticipation of the coming harvest.
I have finally posted pictures from my Michigan trip. Click on the picture of our kitchen window I took this afternoon to see them. Later…
We are each other's business; we are each other's harvest; we are each other's magnitude and bond.— Gwendolyn Brooks
6/22/07:
Whew! There just hasn't been much time to post entries these busy days. I was lucky to get home before 8 o'clock a couple days this week. The weather was nice a few days and so I did get in a couple hours of gardening— the yard is like a jungle of flowers since I haven't done much.
I am still trying to get my left thigh to not tingle, prick and be numb. Last week I had my first ever session of acupuncture. It was very interesting and relaxing, and I was exhausted afterwards. I have also been doing some exercises, consisting mostly of stretches, some I got from a back book Jay has and some were suggested by the naturopathic doctor I saw. The naturopath also suggested applying (to my thigh) cod liver oil, covering it, then applying heat. He suggested this as alternative anti-inflammatory, especially given my reaction to Naproxen. With all of these measures I am hoping to regain some normalcy in that thigh muscle. I have acupuncture again next week and am looking forward to it.
I plan to work on posting pictures from my trip this weekend; I'll let you know. Have a good one!
The universe is too great a mystery for there to be only one single approach to it.— Symmachus
6/17/07:
My dad spent most of his working life picking up milk from farms and taking it to the dairy for processing and distribution. He drove a lot. It was a seven day a week job, with a weekend off once or twice a year if he was lucky. When I was in late high school my dad sold his route, taking some time off to build a new house on a lot he bought from Don and Doreen Bush. My dad likes to keep things nice and fix things, so he was perfect for his later job maintaining the buildings and grounds for Potterville Schools. Having every weekend off and then having vacations to boot felt like quite a luxury!
My dad continues to like to keep things nice and fix things. He also still drives frequently. When I visited the week before last, he drove my mom and I all over the place, including going to the airport three times. Thank you daddy, have a good Father's Day. Love, Cindy
The second half of a man's life is made up of nothing but the habits he has acquired during the first half.— Fyodor Dostoevsky
6/15/07:
Oh those Freudian slips…
Jay and I were both visibly startled earlier in the week when we heard President Bush talking at a press conference in Bulgaria: "They can try to have their votes of no confidence, but it's not going to determine - make the determination who serves in my government". It is, as always, the current President's administration, but never his government. Come to think of it we'd better check, he may have eliminated The Gettysburg Address from school curriculums. It's what the man says and does that scares me.
that we here highly resolve these dead shall not have died in vain; that the nation, shall have a new birth of freedom, and that government of the people by the people for the people, shall not perish from the earth.— Abraham Lincoln
6/10/07:
Whew! I am back home from my visit to Michigan. As always, even though I had a good time, I am glad to be home. I am especially glad to be back home with Jay, yes.
Actually, I had a hard time getting back home! My parents drove me to the Lansing Airport Friday for my 5PM flight, after having driven me all over for a week. After making it through the metal detectors and having my shoes x-rayed, I waived to my parents and my sister Linda from the top of the escalator, and they headed home for some peace and quiet. My flight showed on the board as "on time", so I took a seat, noting there was no plane at the gate. I had not been sitting for more than a couple of minutes when a lady exclaimed the flight was canceled. Hmmm, yes, it was. Crap. I was rescheduled for the next morning at 7:45AM and my tired parents kindly drove back to get me, and again drove me to the airport the next morning.
As it turns out, my flight back was memorable. On the leg from Lansing to Minneapolis I sat next to a 78 year old man who had lost his wife of 53 years three years ago. He was chatty and pleasant, asked me if I was interested in marrying him and said he had asked 50 women to marry him in the last year, jokingly. On a more serious note, he said he both wanted to get married again and was leery of marrying again, at the same time. Yes, most of us can identify.
From Minneapolis to Seattle I shared the exit row with a younger man I had noticed at the airport while waiting for the flight because of his very dark, longish hair and rocker clothing. I settled in my seat, noticing several black braclets on his left wrist and that his snug, tailored jacket was made of a velvet-type material. I asked him if his final destination was Seattle and he said yes. Then I looked him up and down as I said "are you in a band or something"? His more reserved expression cracked a little smile as he said "that's good, yes I am". He said he had been playing a gig in North Dakota and so I asked him how big a crowd they had drawn. "Oh, I think about 22,000". That was a surprise. He explained he was in the band Everclear. Cool, I even knew the band and a couple of their songs. He was very pleasant, telling me where he lived and that he had a year old son. Then he worked some crossword puzzles while I read the my book. I chatted with him some more and found out he played lead guitar, has written some of the band's songs, tries to get home to his family as much as he can, and stuff like that. I tried not to bother him too much, didn't ask his name, and he was kind enough to get my bag down from the overhead compartment for me when we landed. He is the guy in the brown jacket in two of these pictures, Dave French I guess. A nice guy.
I will post more later about my trip, since I know everyone is waiting for that information with bated breath. In the meantime I work tomorrow; getting back to normal for me, glad to be back home with Jay. :)
When you have once seen the glow of happiness on the face of a beloved person, you know that a man can have no vocation but to awaken that light on the faces surrounding him. In the depth of winter, I finally learned that within me there lay an invincible summer.— Albert Camus (1913-1960)
Jardot's World: June Edition, 2007
All pictures on my page link to somewhere... go ahead, click!
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