My View of the World

 I wish the whole world had my view tonight.  There is just something special about sitting outside in the evening.  What if we lived in Chicago or New York or any highly populated area where people are stacked many stories high?   I cannot imagine that.  Do they ever have an evening as I am enjoying tonight?  My imagination runs wild sometimes and I think and wonder about others. especially about those folks living in high rises without a balcony and in deplorable conditions.  Maybe they have a window, maybe not.  How sad it must be.  

Here it is the Labor Day eve we are blessed with a near perfect night.  On this particular night, not one sound do I hear except a leaf blower off in the far distance.  Even the neighbor has put his away for the night.  Now nothing.  SILENCE.  No wind at all which is extremely rare in Oklahoma.   The sound of silence.

We will go inside in a bit, but for now we are going to soak up this blessing a little bit longer unless the mosquitos decide to have dinner on us.

Enjoy your Labor Day and for us retired folks, you will find us on the porch.  

I love you.

Oh wait!   I hear a noise!  The geese just flew over.  Goodnight all.  It's all about the blessings.  

Nostalgia for an Ordinary Life

Many, many evenings have I sat in a lawn chair working on a small project, reading a book, or just chatting away in this very garage just to keep Johnny company.  He often would work into the night fixing up his Corvette, repairing the lawn mower that I somehow always managed to break every time I used it,  changing the oil in one of the vehicles, fixing a small appliance for me......the list could go on forever.  

All of a sudden tonight it hit me that these little times we had and are continuing to have together are more precious than those memories made on a vacation for they are the heart of our marriage.  Sounds strange?  When I look back, of course our vacations were wonderful, but these everyday ordinary days......the days spent in the garage, the days spent in the kitchen, the days of him being on the computer, the nights that I hear him giggle at a silly British comedy, the times he is engrossed in a black and white movie grimacing every time a fight scene would break out (I think he was actually fighting himself), even the hot, long nights in the building....THESE ARE THE MEMORIES I cherish.    

Ordinary pleasant memories.  Vacations come and go, but life is NOW in the ordinary things.  Don't wait.  LIVE a pleasant life and make those ordinary memories.  Find the good in the ordinary day to day life.

I love you.

By the way, the Corvette is still there in the same spot.  The chaos is still there, too, and the garage smell is the same.............love the memories.  Love the NOW.

New Elvis Movie

I can't speak!  Well, I guess I can now.  It has been a little over two hours since I returned from going to the theater to see the new Elvis movie....ALONE.

Have you ever gone to a movie that left you speechless?  Since I was alone, there was no reason for me to chat away, but this affected me to the point of not even wanting to smile.  I never turned on the radio because I was not ready to have my internal, emotional, mental psyche interrupted.  

Johnny asked me about the movie and I muttered something, but headed out to the hot porch to unwind from my thoughts.  After a little bit, the heat drove me in and I popped a can of Sprite.  I told Johnny that if I was a drinking woman, I would have had something stronger.

Then I proceeded to describe to him the feelings I had after seeing this flick, but I was having trouble speaking about it.  The words weren't coming that would adequately describe how much I was affected by an Elvis movie.    Of course all movies are a work of fiction in one way or another.  Let's face it, the bottom line of a movie is money.  So is this movie factual, probably not in all cases, but it left me with a  sad impression that Elvis was highly used and exploited by his manager, and he needed the adoration of all his fans which was a lethal combination.  

Although I have always loved his voice and music, I was never a big fan of Elvis, but something about this movie left me feeling sorry for him.  I wish he didn't have to live that drug filled life to perform on stage and then to live life.

I remember the day he died.  It was the week before Shawna was born and I was setting in the car at a lumber company on I35.  Stunned!  Even though I knew he was not performing well on stage anymore and most of us knew or thought it was because of drugs.  I think most of us assumed that Elvis would live forever.  He was a life force, after all.  But it happened and it stunned the world.  

If there aren't awards in every category for this movie, I will be stunned.  Oh Nancy, I wish you had been alive to see this movie because you would be the first one I would have called.  I could speak to you my friend.

I love you.

When we were in high school, Nancy, Joyce, and I would have Friday night sleepovers and almost every time, there would be an Elvis movie on TV.  In our pjs we pile up to watch his movie and have Fritos and bean dip!!!!  Good times!!!!

It's the Same, but It's Not the Same

It's the same, but it's not the same.

I haven't planted a garden in years and years, but the last couple of years I have been planting a few seeds in a waist-high container....I don't have to stoop.  I do NOT consider myself a gardener so don't ever expect any prize winning vegetables from me.  

BUT, this morning I was able to gather a few lettuce leaves for a salad tonight.  I washed and rinsed a couple of times, dunking my hands in the cool water and swirling the leaves around and I had pleasant memories of doing that during my childhood. 

Mom would gather great big bunches of lettuce to make wilted lettuce from the grease she had collected.  (We had to have a lot of lettuce for the seven of us because when lettuce wilts, it does just that....shrinks into nothing.)  I can tell you that there was nothing better tasting as that salad.  I absolutely love it.  It was our job to rinse the lettuce and rinse we did.  We had to dunk and whirl those lettuce leaves over and over and over again, changing water several times to get the sand off.

As I was rinsing the lettuce this morning, it was the same, BUT it was NOT the same.  I walked into a cool kitchen, almost cold.  Back on Route One, Box 208, Prague, OK, it was HOT.  Hot when we picked it, hot in the kitchen, but that COOL water was everything.  It made the unpleasant task of picking it turn into a great expectation of the delicious wilted lettuce salad that mom was going to make.  I have never been able to make it as good as mom nor have I tasted anybody's else's that was THAT good.

It's the same, but it's not the same.

I love you.

Resourcefulness

Good morning all.

1.  I have never tasted a macaron.  Just sayin'.

2.  I had a strong flashback of my mom pasting lace curtains over board walls, then pasting wallpaper over that.  Johnny asked if it wasn't gauze, but I distinctly remember the lace flower pattern in the curtains.  He said that they used to use gauze over the boards to make them smooth before pasting the wall paper.  

Then we had this whole discussion about the way people used to use things they had on hand to save money.  They used everything UP!  The clothes were passed from one child to the next and if you were in line for your big brother's summer shorts, then that is what you wore even if you were a girl.  The examples of their frugality are endless.

This morning I was on Instagram looking at a woman's bathroom renovation.  To me, her current bathroom is something I am still dreaming about, but to her, I guess it is time to go.  Out with the old, in with the new.  It will be interesting to see her before and after photos; however, I wonder and question about the necessity of throwing the old in the landfill.  For what gain?  

On this beautiful day, I wonder what my mother would think about the resourcefulness of this renovation. Her thoughts would probably run along these lines.  1.  Isn't that (old) bathroom beautiful?  2.  Why?  3.  Is it broken?  4.  Are you going to do it yourself?  5.  Can't you reuse that toilet?  6.  Are you going to give the old fixtures to someone?  7.  How much is that costing?  8.  Again, why?

So, Mom, I have to hand it to you.  You were the queen of resourcefulness.  You are still my inspiration.  

I love you.  

I wonder how different our world would be if we USED IT UP rather than fill our landfills with things we discard just because we no longer like the color.  

   

Paint-by-Number Nostalgia

 Good evening everyone from my bright and sunny sunroom.  So bright I can hardly see what I type.

As the sun in my eyes I am reminded of painting a paint-by-number scene in 2020.  The pandemic was in full force and had us stuck at home, so I ordered the paint kit.  I worked a month on that thing, April 2020.  The light at this time of day, from 6:00 to about 7:00, is ideal to see all the tiny, tiny numbers.  A couple of years has gone by, but the memories are still strong as I sit here tonight.  That painting is by no means a master piece, but as Johnny often tells me, it is about the process rather than the end result.  He asks me questions like:  Did you enjoy picking it out?  Are you having fun?  Are you keeping your mind off other things?  If the answer is yes, then the end result does NOT matter.  

Time has marched on, but we all have the memories.  Thankfully, the strong memories in this room at this time of evening are pleasant.  Not everyone has pleasant memories of that time.  Be thankful, Regina.  Be thankful.

Tonight, I am thankful that my family came through the pandemic relatively unscathed.  

I am thankful that my five senses bring forth such vidid memories.

I love you.   

Ironing

Guess what, I have gone Marie Kondo on my closet.  That is right, everything out!  I haven't discarded much so far, but I have gotten all my summer clothes in the closet and ironed.

Friday, I ironed all day.  All those white blouses are now pressed ready to be worn; however, I cannot bring myself to wear them right now.  I think they must hang in the closet for a while, maybe all summer, just so I can admire my work.  I can look back at those shirts to remind myself that on April Fool's Day I actually worked.  

I love to iron.  I bring the iron and board into the living room and turn the TV on to a classic movie.  I am all set with a tall ice cold glass of tea.  I just love the process of ironing.  I love the monotony, I love the steam in my face, and I love getting the immediate gratification of watching those wrinkles disappear.  

Wrinkles:  That brings me to linen.  I love linen and I have been shopping online for a few things to update my wardrobe.  They will require ironing.  But I have come to the conclusion that I am not a person who could actually pull off wrinkled clothes.  I think it takes a certain person with a level of income to have the right accessories; very expensive jewelry, purses, scarves, and sandals to pull off the "I don't care about wrinkles."  I am not one of those people.  I just don't have the look.  

Fun fact:  I once did some ironing for a lady.  I got $1 a shirt and that was in 1984.  I like ironing, but I won't be ironing for hire anytime soon.

I love you, linen.  Maybe someday................

Sense of Smell

Yesterday, Audrey, Shawna, and I were in Target just browsing.  We needed a couple hours out in the real world.  We walked by the crayon aisle and I picked up a huge box of Crayola's and squeezed the box to see if they smelled better than the stale box of crayons I have at home.  Oh my goodness, I was nearly knocked over with nostalgia.  I was right back in first grade with my box of oversized box of crayons.  The smell of the crayons plus the smell of the cardboard box reminded me so much of my Big Chief Tablet and my crayons.  First grade.......

Also, it reminded me of Kress' basement looking for paper dolls and coloring books for my sisters for Christmas.  Sometimes things just hit me..............  Tears were beginning to form in my eyes and I moved on..............  There's a time for sentimentality, but maybe not in Target, on Saturday, at noon!

By the way a new box of crayons will be in my shopping cart next week.  They definitely smell better.

I love you!