Nature’s Pace – Emerson
Our calendars may say spring, but for many the view says winter. If that’s your view, take heart in Emerson’s words and be patience. Spring will come.
27
03, 2019
25
03, 2019
The Swim Team
I’m on a Swim Team. A very small swim team.
Three of us gather Monday through Friday at the local indoor pool. I don’t know all their names. We rarely speak. Yet we’re a dedicated team. You have to be leave to your house early enough to be in the water at 5:30 am.
Two of us arrive at about the same time usually between 5 – 5:15 a.m. We stand at the door silently. I’m not sure either of us is fully awake. The minute the door is unlocked, we grab our allotted two towels and head to the pool at the back of the building.
Power-swimmer heads directly to the pool. She’s in the water by the time I’ve stripped to my swimsuit under my sweats and stuffed my belongings in a locker.
She swims non-stop. Breaststroke, backstroke, and underwater. Flippers on, flipper off. Without a break. I’m in awe of her stamina.
Basically, I’m not a swimmer. Though several different state Red Cross swim instructors have certified me drown proof. Of course, that probably has more to do with my BMI enabling me to float forever than skills.
While Power-swimmer has her strenuous workout, I walk and doggy paddle in my lane then do chin-ups on the therapy pool equipment and a series of exercises with water weights.
Team member #3 arrives shortly after we’re in the water. I know her name-Char. She walks like I do and our paths cross. Talking’s allowed. Char also swims so once she starts the laps it’s all business. No chit-chat.
Other swimmers join us from day to day. Mostly lap swimmers. Not as intense as our Power member and none swim for as long as the team does.
One day a head popped up in the lane between Power Swimmer and me. I had not seen him come in or enter the water. Scared me that I was so unobservant then Char said the guy swims totally underwater. Since my cardinal pool rule is never to get my face wet, I won’t ever see him until he gets out of the water.
After an hour, Power-swimmer and I leave TM #3. We wave good bye as we head to the locker room.
The others aren’t on the team. They don’t follow the rules: Come every day. Swim an hour. And rules are rules, you know. They’re welcome to join. But that means I’d have to tell my other team members about the team and the rules.
23
03, 2019
Travel Buddies
A Blog by Chicken Wrangler Sara
My husband and I both drive Honda Fits. Mine is white, his is yellow. It was not an intentional thing. We just like Honda Fits.
Rachel and Brian both commute an hour each way to a nearby town for school and work. For a short time their schedules worked out so they could ride together.
The next semester, when Rachel had to drive herself, she found a stuffed bee to be a travel buddy for her dad. It fit perfectly in the side front window.
Then she found a stuffed dachshund that she couldn’t resist. So now Brian has two buddies to keep him company:
I travel several blocks to work each day. In fact, I could probably walk if I didn’t have to drop Bill off at school.
Even though I spend much less time in my car, I still felt lonely without a travel buddy. My front window was very empty.
Recently I found a stuffed eggplant in the back of Rachel’s car. I loved it but, alas, it was a dog toy belonging to Rachel’s boss’s dog.
When she told her boss how much I liked the eggplant, her boss bought one for me. So now I have a happy eggplant travel buddy!
It makes me smile.
20
03, 2019
An Irish Love Story
To keep the spirit of St. Patrick’s Day going…
A little suspense. A little romance. A lot of Ireland.
Buy links:
Amazon/Kindle: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00O6BO
B&N/Nook: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/claiming-annies-heart-judythe-morgan/1120481337
iBOOKS: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/claiming-annies-heart/id926024696
KOBO: http://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/claiming-annie-s-heart
18
03, 2019
In Search of An Eraser
I read recently that Edward Nairne was the inventor of the rubber eraser. Before Nairne accidentally picked up a piece of rubber, bread was an eraser.
Two facts I did not know.
The bread as eraser sent all kinds of scenarios in my head. Made me want to write a Regency novel and use the interesting fact in a story.
It also peeked my curiosity about how we’ve corrected writing mistakes in the past.
I have an 1840s porcelain inkwell that contains a sand shaker. So, at some point in history sand corrected mistakes in writing.
Most often I suspect wadding up the page and starting over was the most common means.
I know, before word processors, I used a ton of paper starting over to get a perfect copy, especially when I wrote with a fountain pen.
I’ve used dry marker erasers for white board writing or a handy Kleenex. I’ve even used fingernail polish when I accidentally used a permanent marker instead of the washable pen.
Back when the typewriter was our professional option, I used correction tape and write out. That was a giant pain lining up the tape and blotting only the incorrect word and not smudging the wrong one.
In drafting, I kept a Pink Pearl nearby along with the shape shields. With those old Leroy Lettering tools, there was no hope of correcting mistakes. You had to start over. Indian ink is very unforgiving.
I used art gum erasers in art classes. I still keep Pink Pearl and art gum erasers handy. Using oils or acrylics, I washed over the canvas with a neutral shade and started again whenever I was unhappy with the results.
Nowadays, I mostly use the delete key or backspace for correcting mistakes. So easy. So fast. So neat and clean.
Sometimes I love technology.
15
03, 2019
Farewell Kaboodle and Custard
A Blog by Chicken Wrangler Sara
Although we call it Miller Farm, we actually live in the middle of town on 1/3 acre lot one block off a major street. The pie shape of our backyard has allowed us to keep the various birds and stay within city ordinances – until now.
Apparently some city dwellers are not happy with crowing roosters. The latest ordinance that has passed the first reading bans all roosters in the city limits. This is sad for us.
Most of our roosters are nameless and so I’m not attached. Kaboodle and Custard, however, are in another category. Not only do they have names, but each one has his own blog post.
Read Custard’s blog here.
Read Kaboddle’s blog here.
A piano student’s mom posted about Kaboddle and Custard somewhere and we got a message from some friends of ours who were looking to replace their rooster. They live outside city limits and have 4 children living at home.
I explained to the boys that they would be moving to a new home with lots of room and no crowing restrictions. They were not impressed but hopefully they will settle in. I’ll check on them later.
Farewell Custard and Kaboodle!
13
03, 2019
11
03, 2019
St. Patrick – Did You Know?
SOURCE: https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/de/deed.en
We celebrate St. Patrick’s Day with parades, dancing, special foods, and a whole lot of green whether you have an Irish heritage or not.
In Ireland the day was a mostly religious celebration. In fact, until the 1970s pubs were closed on March 17. “You just donned your homemade St Patrick’s Day badge or pinned a fistful of muddy shamrock to your lapel and went out to Mass to sing Hail Glorious St Patrick.”
Do you know these other facts about the patron saint of Ireland?
- He was not Irish, but British.
He was born in Roman Britain in the fourth century. Kidnapped by Irish raiders as a teen, they took him to Ireland to work as a shepherd. He escaped and returned to Britain. He spent the next 15 or so years in a monastery, preparing for his missionary work. Pope Celestine I consecrated St. Patrick as Bishop of the Irish around 431.
- He was never a saint canonized by the Roman Catholic church
During the Church’s first millennium, most saints received their title if they were martyrs or counted to be extraordinarily holy. St. Patrick was the latter. He converted many from paganism and became known as the Apostle of Ireland and made the patron saint of the isle.
His familiarity with the Irish language and culture made the Irish receptive to his teachings because he took familiar Celtic symbols and Christianized them. That led to many legends attributed to St. Patrick.
Celtic cross -St. Patrick combined the Irish pagan symbol of the sun with the Christian cross creating the Celtic cross, the icon of Ireland and Irish faith.
Shamrock -He explained the trinity to the Irish pagans with the three leaves of the shamrock. Though there’s no proof he ever did this, the shamrock metaphor remains strong in Irish Christianity.
Snakes – Allegedly when snakes attacked him during a 40-day fast, he chased them to the sea. Ireland doesn’t have snakes so this is total legend. More likely, he used snakes as a metaphor for the evil Druids and pagans.
Lent Fasting – He’s said to have climbed Croagh Patrick, County Mayo and fasted at the summit for the forty days of Lent. True or not, thousands of pilgrims make the trek to the top of Croagh Patrick yearly. I’ve been to Croagh Patrick, but, not to the summit.
Beannachtí na Feile Pádraig
Happy St Patricks Day
6
03, 2019
March is for Irish Toasts-Quotes-Blessings
March always stirs my Irish roots. Wednesdays this month I will be sharing memes of Irish toasts and quotes and blessings. Some are serious and thoughtful; others for a laugh. Irish scenery backgrounds will be pictures taken on trips to Ireland.
Enjoy!
4
03, 2019
Saga of the Long Driveway
Our driveway is long. Very long. It also has a killer S curve.
We noticed it when we looked at the house. But, there was so much to love about the property with the yard and interior we decided it wouldn’t be a problem.
The length wasn’t an issue for my husband because he’s an expert backer-upper.
Me, backing is not my strongest driving skill. We won’t go into details.
Instead of letting the view when pulling out of the garage paralyze me. I came up with a plan.
I’d back partway out, pull forward to the side yard and turn around with a short backup so I could head out instead of going backwards the killer distance.
That worked well until two things changed.
One, I started driving alone more. When we’re together, hubby drives and backs down the demon path while I sit in awe of his skill.
Second, a wet, wet fall and winter mean the side yard is rarely dry. My solution of turning around to drive out forward doesn’t work so well. I’m executing a tire-twisting maneuver on the soaked, soggy ground. The ruts are growing. I’m making a mess of the side yard.
Not good. Not good at all. I’m being forced to learn to navigate the killer driveway in reverse.
I inch backward. Very slowly. Pulling forward and adjusting for those silly curves.
It takes a good ten or fifteen minutes. I have to allow extra time whenever I’m going out on my own.
My husband assures me with practice I’ll get better. Maybe even someday be as good as he is. I have my doubts.
At least I haven’t hit the big pine tree yet.