tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-361839522024-03-18T20:51:51.311-05:00JUST MEMy Country Life Donna. Whttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18393352099473686196noreply@blogger.comBlogger5228125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36183952.post-35449435306078003242024-03-18T11:23:00.001-05:002024-03-18T11:25:10.444-05:00This, that, and nothing<p><span style="font-size: medium;">What to bore you with this morning:</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">I gave my dog Gabe a bath. He was smelling pretty awful, and Cliff was complaining. It doesn't take long to bathe him, but then I have to wash his "laundry", which means the pad in his cage where he sleeps all night and the dog bed he uses in the living room when he isn't sitting next to me on the couch. He curled up in it as soon as I took it out of the dryer, but when the furnace came on he moved to his favorite cold-weather spot, the heat register. Believe it or not, there really is a register under him!</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilNADbUJl5NhhNUStvzP4-mGOr_jjVmR_CVtRR1bnp4BO4XkYt6tlM-vJLjFfcX61qQERcYx_chdt1I8TqC7sT1F-1-gteKBH1e6R6TZX0M67fEHIdusEetaetj3pcpsPLe7zNzuB5-4eDdyOTc82vx5myIAfM_WNRyqleCiox2UT5LzEVc-_f/s3093/IMG_2008.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3093" data-original-width="3093" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilNADbUJl5NhhNUStvzP4-mGOr_jjVmR_CVtRR1bnp4BO4XkYt6tlM-vJLjFfcX61qQERcYx_chdt1I8TqC7sT1F-1-gteKBH1e6R6TZX0M67fEHIdusEetaetj3pcpsPLe7zNzuB5-4eDdyOTc82vx5myIAfM_WNRyqleCiox2UT5LzEVc-_f/w400-h400/IMG_2008.jpeg" width="400" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYgG7uK1bk-60WETeMWP__JRrE3PogY_UjIrmRMlGlu9Gc5YwYZWEorLEk61Hf9JmpvWshccq5IoXyU1rplggIE-SmUMmMBOqkgkt5NRU9yxHuOvhN3JumUZzvMdcVf76Ac9CuSbvhaOhaVbd4tMzdgSpT_XZXnNsfDkfZEExtDTrGrwfQio1D/s5152/IMG_2009.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3864" data-original-width="5152" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYgG7uK1bk-60WETeMWP__JRrE3PogY_UjIrmRMlGlu9Gc5YwYZWEorLEk61Hf9JmpvWshccq5IoXyU1rplggIE-SmUMmMBOqkgkt5NRU9yxHuOvhN3JumUZzvMdcVf76Ac9CuSbvhaOhaVbd4tMzdgSpT_XZXnNsfDkfZEExtDTrGrwfQio1D/w400-h300/IMG_2009.jpeg" width="400" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>I think the low temperature this morning was 25, so we're having a day or two of winter. Then our psuedo-spring will come back. </span><span>I won't be going outside for anything today unless I have to, because the wind coming out of the north is AWFUL.</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">Last summer I made several quarts of spaghetti sauce for the freezer. I had some huge tomatoes in the garden that didn't really have much flavor, but they sure make good sauce. I didn't put meat in it when I froze it. When I get it out and start cooking I add half a pound of Jimmy Dean Italian Sausage, browned. I'm sure glad I found a way to use those big, tasteless tomatoes.</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqO7V_hLXs_YLwI80iRjXdRBd7dCgNTV65ViNc3cSdIVbGX73Taz41F_bO8BRZYi4bgF5VOMmIFOXlCTNJI8-hFAHJPVMZW3TrqL6PsF67RJ0GCVsfMQrIf-sRg9PJVMfw0BSp9Rju-S0bAFmPL5pn-I1caSWs6lWlusQeH4YN7cuOHqK11Lom/s5152/IMG_2010.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3864" data-original-width="5152" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqO7V_hLXs_YLwI80iRjXdRBd7dCgNTV65ViNc3cSdIVbGX73Taz41F_bO8BRZYi4bgF5VOMmIFOXlCTNJI8-hFAHJPVMZW3TrqL6PsF67RJ0GCVsfMQrIf-sRg9PJVMfw0BSp9Rju-S0bAFmPL5pn-I1caSWs6lWlusQeH4YN7cuOHqK11Lom/s320/IMG_2010.jpeg" width="320" /></span></a></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-size: medium;">This is Cliff's favorite meal, and we still have some of the carrot cake I made last week, too. </span><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">Here's a scoop for you: I'm wanting to get another tattoo. Go ahead and say it... there's no fool like an old fool. Dolly Parton wrote a song with a title I absolutely love: <i>Wildflowers Don't Care Where They Grow</i>. I want those words on my wrist, with maybe a couple of violets. It may be awhile though, because the way prices of everything are rising, I might have to wait until one of my T-Bills comes in. </span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/I2jzuGJcaRM?si=nSVV38LXx0PqFeYR" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe></span>
</span><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">Peace.</span></div>Donna. Whttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18393352099473686196noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36183952.post-14654533666652998872024-03-15T05:56:00.007-05:002024-03-15T07:22:52.572-05:00Just checking in<p><span style="font-size: medium;">I have been reading a very interesting book, "Look Me in the Eye: My Life with Asperger's", by John Elder Robison. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><i>" <span style="background-color: white; color: #0f1111;">Ever since he was young, John Robison longed to connect with other people, but by the time he was a teenager, his odd habits—an inclination to blurt out non sequiturs, avoid eye contact, dismantle radios, and dig five-foot holes (and stick his younger brother, Augusten Burroughs, in them)—had earned him the label “social deviant.” It was not until he was forty that he was diagnosed with a form of autism called Asperger’s syndrome. That understanding transformed the way he saw himself—and the world. A born storyteller, Robison has written a moving, darkly funny memoir about a life that has taken him from developing exploding guitars for KISS to building a family of his own. It’s a strange, sly, indelible account—sometimes alien yet always deeply human."</span></i></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: #0f1111;"><span style="background-color: white;">In that book, I learned that his brother also wrote a book about his own life: "Running with Scissors", which I also found in my library; it was made into a movie rated "R", no doubt because t</span></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #0f1111;">hese men had seriously neurotic parents. I confess that I first put the word "crazy" in that sentence, but realized that might not be proper. </span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #0f1111;">I discovered I could stream the movie on Pluto TV, but I want Cliff to watch it with me; lately he's been working on the old Ford tractor with the grandson's help, and has been coming in the house too late for us to watch a two-hour movie because I go to bed early.</span></span></p><p><span style="background-color: white; color: #0f1111;"><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6UIPHIfnhXO6FGSAvT-JDO8q4rgjcDMul1nJ6CpIbrgRvp3Fqc5TjJZ_6JMduJvKfAf-jeANtRyoXATJZgjni5lN0BVHRq9ALogQlzNBAQ9OxaUa5Mq76Urld_lL9fvK8ZPtoiyV1xU3FJIjY94TirTGq9mzJeEw9BJ8fsN7nG5L61swwy38R/s5152/IMG_1998.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3864" data-original-width="5152" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6UIPHIfnhXO6FGSAvT-JDO8q4rgjcDMul1nJ6CpIbrgRvp3Fqc5TjJZ_6JMduJvKfAf-jeANtRyoXATJZgjni5lN0BVHRq9ALogQlzNBAQ9OxaUa5Mq76Urld_lL9fvK8ZPtoiyV1xU3FJIjY94TirTGq9mzJeEw9BJ8fsN7nG5L61swwy38R/w640-h480/IMG_1998.jpeg" width="640" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /> I know people probably get tired of me singing the praises of public libraries in this computer age, but I'm such a cheapskate, I can't help but brag about the FREE BOOKS and FREE MAGAZINES I can read thanks to the Libby app, magazines like National Geographic and Rolling Stone that I could never afford! The one I read the most will always be Reader's Digest, though.</span><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVDTUIT9e4i0WDAhmqM9QMdpXAIeO-lNJn_IKeYX3_z48abJLrw6yW24wn5JTbDtC_ZlcjyUkHKVWPbG0n1Lr8Q3M_1N9GI3341r0sRwwcixIzcGPDmPNHbtXIsbeIaGCPYpoKC7XSeg4I9RfNNg9DxrC6XF11gdMq7MfvUNCYku-e8OpSriCP/s2048/Libby%20Magazines.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVDTUIT9e4i0WDAhmqM9QMdpXAIeO-lNJn_IKeYX3_z48abJLrw6yW24wn5JTbDtC_ZlcjyUkHKVWPbG0n1Lr8Q3M_1N9GI3341r0sRwwcixIzcGPDmPNHbtXIsbeIaGCPYpoKC7XSeg4I9RfNNg9DxrC6XF11gdMq7MfvUNCYku-e8OpSriCP/w480-h640/Libby%20Magazines.png" width="480" /></a></div><p><span style="color: #0f1111; font-size: medium;"><span style="background-color: white;">With our recent hailstorm, we also received around an inch and a half of rain, for which I'm grateful. Mother Nature has been giving us three or four days at a time of temps in the 70's, then several days of cooler weather, but nothing any cooler that the mid-twenties at night.</span></span></p><p><span style="color: #0f1111; font-size: medium;"><span style="background-color: white;">My asparagus roots were supposed to arrive this week, but with only two days left in the week, I'm getting impatient! The trench I dug for them has been ready for a week now. <i>PS: I received an email saying they're coming today.</i></span></span></p><p><span style="color: #0f1111; font-size: medium;"><span style="background-color: white;">And that's what's happening around here.</span></span></p></div></div>Donna. Whttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18393352099473686196noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36183952.post-44676599806585688082024-03-13T05:35:00.008-05:002024-03-13T06:11:12.722-05:00Mother Nature does it again<p><span style="font-size: medium;">I went to bed around 8:30 last night. I was almost asleep when the war began; at least that's what it sounded like. We had the longest hail-storm I can remember. It just went on and on, and believe me, it was loud! My daughter and her husband, who live in town, don't have a garage and they both have cars they bought recently. I would hate to see what those cars look like now. Rachel's birthday is today, and this has likely ruined her day. Just last weekend she stopped by here and was telling us how she loved that car, and bragging about how nice it looked after she had been through the carwash. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">A local friend put this picture on Facebook. </span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-5ZOvm-ekLQbJqxPGsxBa_iGn7RO2ZHsOHzM6ZVjMGJ1aDwxLuQ8OJvPas_Po32cZ-3IIeoZb7hBxzC6QukdVQYq4zGQqt8GSbjD6I9BftZUzUnYFBKrdm3oXdhkBoFo7azOtPucXU3G1cCkrgBt6HpHUtbSxQaOKrNohgKad7_qqZzLJXRIF/s2016/hail.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1512" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-5ZOvm-ekLQbJqxPGsxBa_iGn7RO2ZHsOHzM6ZVjMGJ1aDwxLuQ8OJvPas_Po32cZ-3IIeoZb7hBxzC6QukdVQYq4zGQqt8GSbjD6I9BftZUzUnYFBKrdm3oXdhkBoFo7azOtPucXU3G1cCkrgBt6HpHUtbSxQaOKrNohgKad7_qqZzLJXRIF/s320/hail.jpeg" width="240" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>And from another Facebook friend:</span><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJAxd_ur-GObLAujxz12xTlkwBtlQhYgElXCEsFZDAPqwXjpHjW35NgJfXIf-ZFqyyOI8XJq67D9LLMZ1p02M_815w4AlgOhNuAkGM8lGr4SqnI-X2C_yq0pnCI5H4bVJRLbU66ZNzft6PvFACWemeyxtAEdRQd1n-NwOuCiUurgL2swXmcoAB/s2048/hail2.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1152" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJAxd_ur-GObLAujxz12xTlkwBtlQhYgElXCEsFZDAPqwXjpHjW35NgJfXIf-ZFqyyOI8XJq67D9LLMZ1p02M_815w4AlgOhNuAkGM8lGr4SqnI-X2C_yq0pnCI5H4bVJRLbU66ZNzft6PvFACWemeyxtAEdRQd1n-NwOuCiUurgL2swXmcoAB/w225-h400/hail2.jpeg" width="225" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">We had a pretty rough hail storm last year, but this one was worse. On the bright side, if there is one, we FINALLY got over an inch of rain that was so very much needed. I'm not worried about what the hail did to the garden. I'm sure the lettuce will be fine. I may have lost the peas that are above ground, but it's still early and I can easily replant. The fruit trees haven't bloomed, so they are OK so far.</span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>People who have insurance on their homes, like us, will get their roofs fixed without paying a lot out of pocket. </span><span>It's just another risk we sometimes have to face, here in Missouri. </span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>I suppose it beats a hurricane.</span></span></p></div>Donna. Whttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18393352099473686196noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36183952.post-20024509650690174582024-03-12T04:17:00.002-05:002024-03-12T07:15:18.358-05:00It's the Methodist way<span style="font-size: medium;">Even before I started attending the Methodist church in town, I knew that their preachers are chosen for them by a bishop. I also noticed that their preachers don't usually stay with one congregation long. It seemed to me that folks would barely get to know their pastor before he was gone. Thanks to Google, I have learned that some preachers do stay longer, especially those in larger churches. But that isn't the norm, especially for small churches. </span><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">When I began going to the Methodist church, a new preacher had just been assigned: I don't remember how long he and his wife stayed, but they decided to retire and move to Florida, so he wasn't there very long. </span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">I have thought it must be hard for a preacher to deliver a sermon to such a small congregation made up of a dozen or so senior citizens.</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">Then, Jeremey came. He was raised a Catholic, but somehow had become a Methodist preacher. He and his wife are good-looking and sweet and easy to get to know. Amazingly, we got to keep them for four years.</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">Which made it all the harder the Sunday before last to hear they had their orders to move on. Jeremey waited untl he finished his sermon to break the news, then started trying to tell let us he was leaving, but it took him awhile because he was holding back tears.</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">And I thought, "He doesn't want to leave us!"</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">So this Sunday, during the "joys and concerns" time, I had something to say. I told our little group I had always assumed that any preacher would be glad to move on from what is obviously a dying congregation. Then I said to Jeremey, "But after last Sunday, I know you really care about us."</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">Every single person in the church said a big 'Amen', and again, Jeremey had trouble giving a response. </span><span style="font-size: medium;">Some people are just special.</span></div>Donna. Whttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18393352099473686196noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36183952.post-9026610743647000942024-03-11T07:31:00.007-05:002024-03-11T09:53:06.569-05:00A perfect fit<p><span style="font-size: medium;">I sometimes mention that I attend two churches each Sunday, but that doesn't mean I think I am super righteous or better than anybody. Believe me, I'm at the bottom of the heap when it comes to being better than anyone.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">I was raised going to church three times a week, not to mention the times we had a Gospel Meeting and went every evening for a week to hear a different preacher. Most churches would call that a revival, but the Churches of Christ never used that term. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">There have been several times in my life when I didn't attend church at all, I'm sad to say. I didn't even want to. Oh, I've gone to various churches for years, then quit attending any church at all for years. But in my sixties, I began to feel a longing, sort of like homesickness; I would pick up my guitar and sing the old hymns; they almost made me cry, I missed them so much. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">After my husband retired, I begged him to go to church with me, since he would have all the time in the world to do what he wanted, now that he didn't have to go to work. He didn't really want to, but he agreed. I chose an independent church that was relatively new in our town. It was more like a Baptist church than anything else. We went there for two or three years, but my husband doesn't like going to church and began to resent it more and more. I realized I was wrong, trying to force him to go. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">My next problem was that I don't drive. But we are only a mile and a half from town, where there are four churches to choose from, and he was happy to take me to any of them. Since I had gone to the Baptist church back in the 80's... my two children were baptized there... that's the one I chose. There aren't a lot of people there any more, only one person I remembered from the old days. But they sang the hymns and they were all so very nice, and happy to see someone new. The preacher's wife loves to garden, so we have that in common. Lately there are a few different people coming, and there have even been some baptisms.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Their services start around 10:30. Meanwhile, four blocks away, there is a Methodist Church with so few people attending (sometimes as few as 10) that a preacher comes to handle the service starting at 9 A.M., then drives 15 miles to a larger town to preach to another congregation at 10:30. I figured I could go there for the service, then walk four or five blocks to the Baptist church. Cliff drops me off at one and picks me up at the other now.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">I've been going to both these churches for five or six years. I am neither Baptist or Methodist, but I love the people in both places. The Baptists are more like the church I grew up in, but I like to be around any people who know what Jesus is about; if we can all talk about Jesus together, or share Bible verses, I am quite comfortable. You see, all the rest of my week, nobody cares about "that stuff". But on Sunday, I am home again... TWICE. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">God works in mysterious ways, and I have found I am more comfortable at church without my husband along. He's a good man, but at church he's a fish out of water.</span></p>Donna. Whttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18393352099473686196noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36183952.post-51898456740821341732024-03-10T08:25:00.002-05:002024-03-10T17:05:15.395-05:00Spring forward<p><span style="font-size: medium;">I never manage to get a lot of sleep. My aging bladder doesn't let me sleep longer than two hours straight; sometimes I go back to sleep, other times I don't. I've learned to live with it. Usually if I am in bed for six hours, I'm fine, even with all the interruptions. I love mornings, and any time it's 3 A.M. or later, I just go ahead and get up. Perhaps once a week I will take an over-the-counter sleep aid, which does make me sleep longer but makes me feel groggy all the next day. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">But I've outdone myself this time: I woke up at midnight with a tickle in my throat that got me coughing like crazy; I don't have a cold, I don't smoke: and yet, I have a tickle in my throat. After thirty minutes of constant coughing, I gave up; So I was on the couch at 1 A.M, drinking coffee and trying to figure out my Wordle game (got it in three tries today). When I come home after attending my two churches, I will likely get a nap or two on the couch. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">I certainly can't blame Daylight Savings for this. It's just me. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">The thing is, I really don't have to do anything that would require a sharp mind or a lot of energy. If I had to work on a job after only getting three hours of sleep, that would be rough. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">I have learned the way to get over sleep loss is to stop thinking it about it, take a shower, and get on with the day, while remembering not to bore everybody I see by telling them I didn't get any sleep. Oops... I guess I just told the hundred or so who read this mess. Sorry! </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">I'm truly glad to be living one more day.</span></p>Donna. Whttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18393352099473686196noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36183952.post-21938688475774190542024-03-09T06:46:00.005-06:002024-03-09T06:56:45.337-06:00This has been the strangest week<p><span style="font-size: medium;">It isn't that anything terrible has happened, it's just odd little worries coming up about one thing and another. Things that make me wonder if I did such-and-such right. Or knowing I forgot something that might cost me a few bucks.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">I quit the pill I take for winter depression a little too early this year because the new Medicare Advantage group we chose, Aetna, has me paying more than I want to for it. Cliff and I can both tell I'm not taking my Lexapro, and he even jokes about it <i>(Please let me go get your pills)</i>. I'm fine without it for most of the year. so I'll just let myself be grumpy, and before you know it I will change into my springtime self with no help... like I did most of my life until I found out a little pill makes me easier to live with in winter. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Almost everything I planted in the garden in February is germinating, but the last couple of days we went back to cloudy and cool conditions, so I'm not doing much outside. I did take a shovel out and dig a one-foot-deep trench to plant the ten asparagus roots I ordered, because they are supposed to arrive Monday or thereabouts. There are also boysenberries and red raspberries coming. Will I live long enough to taste all those things? That's anybody's guess, but if nothing else, I will enjoy seeing them all alive and growing.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">I made some hummus yesterday, first time in a long time. I like it as a dip for tortilla chips. I didn't have any canned garbanzo beans, but I had the dried ones, so I cooked them in the Instant Pot. Then I decided I needed to make Pita bread, but failed miserably. Oh well. I did have success with my favorite recipe for oatmeal-raisin cookies. When I'm cooking, I'm usually happy, and cookies make the grandson next door happy, too. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Also yesterday, I began planning a couple of spring road trips. When we went shopping this week, I told Cliff I was really craving some Kentucky Fried Chicken, so on the way home we went to the one in Oak Grove. However, there were only two people working, and after standing in line for twenty minutes, we went next door to Pizza Hut instead. My craving is still with me. What I really want is a KFC with a buffet, so I can have nothing but chicken, grease and all, as much as I can eat! When we got home I did a google search to see where I could find one with a buffet; the closest one is in Berryville, Arkansas. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">We love Arkansas! </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">So I told Cliff about my discovery and he immediately said, "Well, get in the car and let's go." He probably agreed so quickly because without my depression pill, he's afraid not to agree with every hair-brained idea I propose. Of course we didn't leave: I at least want some green leaves showing when we go. I looked for things to do in Berryville and found a gun museum with some exceptionally rare guns: <a href="https://berryvillear.gov/about-berryville/saunders-museum/">Saunders Museum</a>, which is closed for winter but will open April 15. </span></p><p><span style="background-color: white; color: #535c5e;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><i>"Saunders Museum is one of the largest collections of rare guns in America. Col. Saunders was acquainted with many iconic American figures such as Theodore Roosevelt , Buffalo Bill, Texas Jack, and Annie Oakley. In the Saunder’s collection you will see guns belonging to Jesse James, Joaquin Murietta, Belle Starr, Cole Younger, Jim Cummins, Three-Fingered Jack, Billy The Kid and Sam Houston among many others. There are nearly 400 guns in this extensive collection! There are unique pieces such as a blunderbuss gun, a flintlock pistol made for King Phillip V of Spain (c. 1737), an original Bowie knife, and General Pancho’s spurs.</i>"</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">So the plan is to go there (it's just a four-hour drive) and go straight to KFC for lunch, then on to the museum. This also puts us very near Eureka Springs, so we may go through there the next morning (although we've seen about everything it has to offer) and go home a different route than we came.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;">I'm also planning our annual trip to Jamesport, which has the largest Amish community in the state of Missouri. That's only two hours away, so there won't be any overnight stay. I like to get my tomato and pepper plants there, so that trip will likely be in April also. Cliff and I usually find some good buys in one of the stores that sell out-of-date food, dented cans, and such. We're not scared!</span></p><p><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;">Tonight it will be below freezing outside, and then our early spring will come back for awhile.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;">Peace.</span></p>Donna. Whttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18393352099473686196noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36183952.post-12406108045866161302024-03-05T14:19:00.005-06:002024-03-05T14:31:05.241-06:00What a crazy day!<p><span style="font-size: medium;">I decided to try a different oatmeal cookie recipe today. Why, I don't know, because I have a perfect recipe that the whole family loves. I won't be making this new one again; it isn't nearly as good as what I've been using. After putting the first cookie sheet into the oven, I sat down with my Macbook, opened it up, and clicked on Facebook. However, I couldn't enter into that wonderful place where my friends live, because there was a huge notice in the middle of my screen that told me to type my password in so I wouldn't have to type it any more... something like that. I did that, because I was pretty sure I'd seen that message before. However, rather than entering Facebook, a huge picture came on, beeping like crazy, and telling me to call Microsoft because something was badly wrong, and also don't shut down your computer or you'll die. OK, that isn't quite what it said, but I knew something was off. Microsoft has nothing to do with Apple products. However, I couldn't do anything else but listen to BEEP BEEP BEEP and see that warning. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">I went ahead and shut off my computer turned it back on to find I didn't die, and tried again. When I first opened it, things looked right. But the minute I clilcked on Google Chrome, which is the browser I use, there was that same mess that I could not click out of. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">I rebooted once again. Same result. Then I began wondering what would happen if I rebooted and clicked on the Safari browser instead of Google. That worked fine, and I threw the Google app into the trash. Good riddance.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">About that time, I got a notice to change my Apple password. It looked legit, but I was <strike>a little bit nervous</strike> ready to cry, thinking something had compromised my brand new Macbook. I called in to Apple for help. I found myself talking to someone who had a foreign accent, so I had to keep asking her to repeat what she said. I tried to explain to her that I might have a real problem with my four-day-old computer and she directed me to someone who could help me. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">I had at least a one-hour wait, but I used the time wisely by turning two boneless pork chops into tenderloins with a meat hammer, then rolling them in flour, then in beaten eggs, then in cracker crumbs, so we'd have tenderloin sandwiches for (noon) dinner. My kitchen right now is a mess: there is the cookie-baking mess and the tenderloin mess; I can't even see the counter in there! I will say, though, that if you feel angry or weepy, using the meat hammer is a good way to relieve stress.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">All this time I was also taking not-that-great cookies out of the oven every 15 minutes, except for one cookie-sheet full of cookies that burnt.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Finally someone picked up a connection and started talking to me on the phone. I could understand every word he said. He explained to me what had happened and how people trick you by leading you to a different website. He told me it was a good thing I didn't call the number or click on anything. This wasn't my first rodeo, folks, and thank goodness I do know a few things, like, for instance, APPLE DOESN'T COME WITH MICROSOFT. He couldn't manipulate my computer, but he had a little arrow of his own that he magically sent to my screen, moving it around so he could point out anything he needed me to show him. He told me to take my Google Chrome out of the trash and found a tab that held the problem. He had me get rid of that tab, then said it was OK to use.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">All's well that ends well, but it's a wonder my blood pressure didn't cause me to have a stroke. And all that started at the same time as the Facebook outage today. </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi0dCIq5NtV9d0asJvARYZPjSVxta5wh6ZC_ouDdEdr-5XRgZ_wR82IMVkriU7DA2ac4u5SEYOsYiTF5dm3eBdSKLGIzcOvAySYWQSD99yOxQ4amK03D-8_BtGHK3rxVKA3d58PnMq5uec8qEmDH7ldBpW0qLuV64NHhvcnevs4_9f2jprIanl/s1280/bugs.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="1280" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi0dCIq5NtV9d0asJvARYZPjSVxta5wh6ZC_ouDdEdr-5XRgZ_wR82IMVkriU7DA2ac4u5SEYOsYiTF5dm3eBdSKLGIzcOvAySYWQSD99yOxQ4amK03D-8_BtGHK3rxVKA3d58PnMq5uec8qEmDH7ldBpW0qLuV64NHhvcnevs4_9f2jprIanl/s320/bugs.jpeg" width="320" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p><i>By the way, I do realize that you can get Microsoft for Apple computers.</i></p>Donna. Whttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18393352099473686196noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36183952.post-2108751085027097092024-03-04T06:50:00.003-06:002024-03-04T07:00:45.207-06:00So here's what I did.<p><span style="font-size: medium;"> If you read yesterday's entry, you know that I returned my brand new computer with a very loud fan constantly running all the time it was on; I returned it. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">So. I like having a computer. I spend more time on the Internet than I should, but it's what I like to do. I still have my five-year-old Macbook, but it needs to be worked on: the fan was running often, and all the time I was using it, it was telling me that the battery was draining rapidly. After that warning, if I kept using it, the battery was gone in half an hour. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">And after returning the PC I had purchased, I realized something: I've had a Mac, and I don't want to go back to anything else. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>Again, I'm going to "keep it real" and confess something to you. An Internet friend in nearby Kansas City kept using his propaganda on me many years ago, perhaps not realizing that I didn't need to be paying that much for a computer. He took me to the dark side, making me one of those people who seem to have a champagne taste on a beer budget. </span><span>My daughter has told me, and so has my friend Meesha, that there's no difference: a computer is a computer. My daughter actually says PC's have advantages over Apple products. My husband wonders why my computer doesn't have a touch screen (Mac doesn't make one and I don't want one anyway, so HA!).</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">But I am an idiot, and it seems that printers aren't the only things I ruin: I've owned four or five (at least) PC's, none of which lasted over two years. My first Macbook has lasted five years, and could possibly last five more if I had it fixed. So why didn't I do that?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>For the last couple of months, I've been seeing articles telling me that the Apple corporation finally decided to make a Macbook with a screen bigger than 13 inches. My eyes aren't the best, and I wanted that. Plus there were other things they had tuned up lately on the new ones, and I coveted all of that! Just another one of the ten commandments I've broken in my life. </span><span> </span><span> </span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">It's very seldom that an old bargain biddy like me will pay too much for anything on purpose, but there have been a few times that I go into covet mode. It's happened a couple of times when I just had to have a horse. It happened twice when I wanted a certain high-priced Gibson guitar. And thanks to Remley, who started this particular "gotta have it" fifteen or so years ago, it's happened again.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">It did help that Best Buy had three hundred dollars off on the new 15 inch Macbook I wanted, but it was still far from being cheap. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">In case you are wondering what my husband thinks about this: when I'm happy, so is he. That's why I help him buy old rusty tractors to fix up.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">We pay all our credit cards off every month. Next month I'll be taking some money out of my household account savings and hoping there's no emergency for awhile. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Ain't life grand?</span></p>Donna. Whttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18393352099473686196noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36183952.post-18686831131964860772024-03-03T05:35:00.002-06:002024-03-03T07:40:55.168-06:00Computer problems<p><span style="font-size: medium;">I don't know what it is about me that I can't seem to keep a printer very long before something goes wrong with it. After throwing about four printers away since 1998, I finally decided to never buy another printer. I really don't use them often anyway. I probably use a scanner more often than printer. Twice in the last year I've just sent what I have to print to our next-door grandson and he prints it for me. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">My five-year-old Macbook has been trying to die on me. Considering I've used the poor thing as a TV tray, five years isn't bad (I'm serious about that... I eat potato chips, then turn the laptop over to shake the crumbs out). Macs are so expensive I decided it was time to buy a PC, which the majority of people use with no problem. I found one on Amazon that suited my needs and ordered it. I could have bought three or four of them for what a Macbook would cost me.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">When it arrived, I transferred the files from my Macbook, and set out to get used to my new Hewlett Packard. Things were going well for the first 10 minutes, then I realized the computer's fan was running loudly. I tried to ignore it, but since I'd been hearing the fan on my poor mistreated Macbook, I knew that sound.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">So, the next day I went to Amazon, told them the fan was running loudly, right out of the box, and returned it. We put it in the box it came in, but of course I had to print a label. I sent an email to my grandson with what he needed to print, figuring he didn't have to be in a rush to do it. I noticed he and his lady left shortly afterward. No big deal.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Then I looked back at the instructions again and noticed this: "All items MUST be returned by April 1, 2024."</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">All I saw was the letter <i>one</i> and thought: <i>Really? I have to send it back today? Isn't this the first of the month?</i> I looked at the calendar and, sure enough, it was the first. See what I did there? I actually blocked out April as though it wasn't there.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Grandson was gone, and here I am thinking it has to go back that day! I'm don't like to bother people to do freebies for me, and I didn't know who I could get to help me... and then I thought of Paula, the Baptist preacher's wife a mile and a half away. It was noon by this time, and I knew she'd either be giving the little girls she babysits their lunch or else getting them down for their nap.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">I told her I had to send it back that same day, so she went ahead and printed it. When I went to pick the label up, she had seen the date on the email I sent. She said, "It it looks to me like you don't have to send it until April 1." It took me a second to realize what I'd done, and I was so embarrassed! Just so you know, the older I get, the more this sort of thing happens, especially when I let myself get upset.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">But if anybody can be gracious about such an incident, it would be Paula, one of the busiest women in town. The three little girls she babysits had just finished eating: The two younger ones (ages three and four maybe?) came to the door with such big smiles, it was like they were glad to see me in a different place than church. One of the kids even started singing happy birthday to me! I'll take it, even if my birthday isn't until July. Their smiles were so charming that every time I think about it, <i>I </i>smile. Such sweet children. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">I'm make this part one of the story and will tell you what I did about getting a computer tomorrow. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>I want you to know that it's hard to tell the world I had such a stupid mixup, but I may as well keep it real. </i></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p>Donna. Whttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18393352099473686196noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36183952.post-56611623270487995802024-03-02T05:55:00.001-06:002024-03-02T05:55:18.009-06:00Everything is fine<p><span style="font-size: medium;">I got disgusted because I couldn't sign in with my Google account on other people's comment sections, so I just stopped blogging for a week. There were also other things going on. Cliff's sister passed out while at her son's house and ended up in the hospital. They seem to think it's epilepsy, so she isn't supposed to drive for six months. I'll bet she will drive, though. She likes being independent. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">I've been spoiled by the warm weather we were having, so when the temperatures got down in the teens for a couple of days, I got grumpy about that, too. It's all about me, right? The weather shouldn't give me a gift for two weeks and then take it away for a couple of days.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">As for Cliff, he isn't dizzy now. When he went to his first therapy our granddaughter Monica had to drive us; he came out of the session not dizzy. That was Wednesday, and so far, so good. He's going back Monday, but says if he's still doing OK he won't go again. It isn't a huge amount of money for the therapy, thank goodness: $25 a session for our part. That's why he decided to go one more time. It's something that often happens to older people, and now we know there is something that can be done about it. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">I really don't have a lot to say right now. I'm sorry I waited so long to let everybody know that my husband is fine. I'll go back to commenting on blogs once in a while if I can use my google account. I couldn't even comment on my own blog without being "anonymous". My computer was in a bad way after being used and misused for five years, and I was using the iPad as my computer. I have corrected that by getting a new computer, although that experience didn't exactly go as planned either. Now I'm in tall cotton, though.</span></p>Donna. Whttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18393352099473686196noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36183952.post-45693319875439297992024-02-26T06:07:00.010-06:002024-02-26T09:23:11.866-06:00For better or worse<p><span style="font-size: medium;">Cliff has been having spells of vertigo once every two or three weeks for quite a while. He was given two prescriptions to use until he goes to his appointment for vestibular therapy this Wednesday, and those have been taking care of his dry-heaves and dizziness... until the last time. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Thursday evening he was getting ready to go to his tractor club meeting when he got terrible dizzy and sick. The pills did nothing for him. He missed the club meeting, but what was worse is that he was still dizzy Friday morning. And Saturday morning. And Sunday. I messaged both my churches to let them know I wouldn't be there. Both promised to pray for my husband.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">So for four days, Cliff couldn't safely get up and do anything without help. If he wanted to go in another room, I stood up in front of him while he stood up. Then he'd grab my shoulders, or sometimes just hang onto the back of my shirt with one hand, and away we'd go. I told him I felt like a pack animal. He's never had vertigo for this long a time, and he has really been getting depressed about it. Several times he mentioned that he would hate to be living along under those circumstances, so maybe he will appreciate having me around. Actually, he always appreciates me; he is a good man.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Yesterday evening he still had a little dizziness, but he could walk around without help for the first time in four days. We'll see what happens this morning when he gets up. I am hoping he will be able to drive to his appointment in Independence, because I don't drive. His sister would gladly come and take him, but she's having health problems of her own. He will talk to his brother today and see if he would be able to take him; I'm sure he'd be glad to, but he and his wife are older than we are and have lots of doctor appointments, so he may not be free to do it.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">So that's the kind of fun we've been having.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">I planted more things in the garden yesterday: Onions, cabbage, beets, and radishes. When I go outside, I take my phone in case Cliff needs me.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">I am trying to keep from worrying over this drought. I do love the sunny skies and warm temperature, but we need more winter! It isn't about my garden so much as the fact that farmers need their crops to grow. I don't have to raise my own food, but if the current forecast is right, orchards aren't going to have any fruit around this area. Yesterday was in the 70's. Today will be the same.</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfTdHTFV0NujiyDzK5__f3Bv2DdswpY514jNG6WDRbCO0uaX99sLQR37FEFlFlKt_n_0u6RJYbHPEly7E5tuc6HBNI1niKi7GHrGKDvhShaLl2S7zALTb2-CrMFVvAPMmiL0H23uE90xrlbhAj6B8W85PCad1gdKebHHojCdthZOEdgyGFUgkt/s5152/IMG_1983.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="5152" data-original-width="2568" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfTdHTFV0NujiyDzK5__f3Bv2DdswpY514jNG6WDRbCO0uaX99sLQR37FEFlFlKt_n_0u6RJYbHPEly7E5tuc6HBNI1niKi7GHrGKDvhShaLl2S7zALTb2-CrMFVvAPMmiL0H23uE90xrlbhAj6B8W85PCad1gdKebHHojCdthZOEdgyGFUgkt/w320-h640/IMG_1983.jpeg" width="320" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium; text-align: left;">As you can see, this Tuesday and Wednesday nights are the only time it gets below freezing for the next two weeks. Oh, and forget those rain chances. They never happen. Never. We just ignore them and go about our business. Do I have an attitude today? Maybe so. In spite of that, I am going to be thankful for another day on this earth, and for this wonderful life I've been given. </span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">I'm having a great time with rhymes lately: I got interested in the Gospel of Mark and have written a poem based on Mark chapter one. I'm still improving it little by little, and if I can ever get through reading it aloud without messing up a line, I will give it to you that way. I would hope I get it done before Easter, so I can share it with people at church.</span></div><div><br /></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">My husband is still dizzy, but he is able to walk around on his own, at least. And I found someone to take him to therapy: Granddaughter Monica is not working Wednesday, so she will be his </span><span style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(77, 81, 86); color: #4d5156;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;">chauffeur</span><span style="font-family: Roboto, Helvetica Neue, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 14px;">.</span></span></span></div>Donna. Whttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18393352099473686196noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36183952.post-82073227566173367112024-02-21T06:07:00.003-06:002024-02-21T06:59:02.668-06:00my winter garden<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDWW5FNF0WUg8DIyYtRBD9uJs8P2kLyLgRaO8uI_1oknt70paOH6GVnYC7rfjEJXGFV1hZ1-Xdd94NeyDxxZN2ewnRaT6g3YG0hK4P5Of5kgI4fmgGzkKbN4kdfx1FUYBQ9gh8WyEOXAx9wihZDuskVW413Q25GRB0QKlb4zX3HA-TRHFKuGWW/s5152/IMG_1979.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3864" data-original-width="5152" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDWW5FNF0WUg8DIyYtRBD9uJs8P2kLyLgRaO8uI_1oknt70paOH6GVnYC7rfjEJXGFV1hZ1-Xdd94NeyDxxZN2ewnRaT6g3YG0hK4P5Of5kgI4fmgGzkKbN4kdfx1FUYBQ9gh8WyEOXAx9wihZDuskVW413Q25GRB0QKlb4zX3HA-TRHFKuGWW/w640-h480/IMG_1979.jpeg" width="640" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: medium;">Four rows are planted in my garden. Even though we got a bit of snow Friday, the dirt is dry except for right in the rows that I watered with plastic watering cans. There are peas, spinach, and parsnips. Oh, and I found some lettuce seeds (really cheap ones) of various kinds last Saturday and planted those. Seeing the rows reminds me there's a possibility that it might rain more this year, and if it does, the garden will prosper. </span><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">"If <i>ifs</i> and <i>ands </i>were pots and pans, </span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">We'd have no work for tinkers' hands."</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><i><br /></i></span><div><span style="font-size: medium;">I've tilled practically the whole garden to get rid of the ground-level weeds. It makes me feel like it's spring. Of course the more I till the garden, the dryer it gets.</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">In case you think spinach can't survive in winter, I have evidence to the contrary. I planted some spinach last year in September. As usual, we were in a drought. And it was too late to expect the spinach to mature anyway. But the few seeds that managed to survive and grow a bit gave me some plants that continued to grow; even several days of zero temperatures failed to kill it. Below, this is what my September-planted spinach looked like yesterday.</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTAktj6HYdI46uIPRjeVyqITWBPxByi1eTJFMSpIKl5L8-l4quR0RTDtUYfTIUrj6lgp-5AtHNgz7s_4n59k1Ro9vEPA4ElnXq_KvHLoHJWcGz1bLWECJ-M-bJILcmAbCsqACk0TTattnpQ4fCwHooiyPBCGydlPHSFiPSXDMpTPFUBOtLo408/s5152/IMG_1967.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3864" data-original-width="5152" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTAktj6HYdI46uIPRjeVyqITWBPxByi1eTJFMSpIKl5L8-l4quR0RTDtUYfTIUrj6lgp-5AtHNgz7s_4n59k1Ro9vEPA4ElnXq_KvHLoHJWcGz1bLWECJ-M-bJILcmAbCsqACk0TTattnpQ4fCwHooiyPBCGydlPHSFiPSXDMpTPFUBOtLo408/w640-h480/IMG_1967.jpeg" width="640" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><div><span style="font-size: medium;">Every time I go to the garden, I grab a nice healthy leaf and eat it, hoping Gabe, my dog, hasn't peed on it.</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMqMC3_Xg8jUnrq2RxPL1xCru9kG8aK-LqKs7ma7sSM22_FTwcJxcFUG0EuE_fnvxmllVrwbN0P43tMfmZMpXd1lDfOq9N1LaIck85P6Kt_YpD12vO1DWml1MXvgKYMavsuMWy1Iva2lBENjdFIK13QcxQl0DVtDoR3f39kjLSkY9Fg4mKHBqR/s5152/IMG_1981.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3864" data-original-width="5152" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMqMC3_Xg8jUnrq2RxPL1xCru9kG8aK-LqKs7ma7sSM22_FTwcJxcFUG0EuE_fnvxmllVrwbN0P43tMfmZMpXd1lDfOq9N1LaIck85P6Kt_YpD12vO1DWml1MXvgKYMavsuMWy1Iva2lBENjdFIK13QcxQl0DVtDoR3f39kjLSkY9Fg4mKHBqR/w640-h480/IMG_1981.jpeg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">This is the one I ate yesterday.<br /></span><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The amazing thing is that the tender leaves are now slightly sweet, and are the best-tasting spinach I've ever tasted.</span></div></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><div><span style="font-size: medium;">I have great faith that the lettuce will be fine, as well as the spinach and peas I planted a couple of weeks ago, if I can keep them watered sufficiently. I've never had success with parsnips, so we shall see what happens there.</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">Here's what parsnip seeds look like:</span></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilolhnpErxCSWBh5qYGrxjdpX_eElsvoeuwh3f1peNBHoBFtsi90Yz1uB-LPqtCb8u0YxsowrI2R7QpItKhkLAbCY0dg1-nvENd4zkhkK1hJWJY3Ery0PfQrchnURF3OrrUvBnS5bjnsHbue6Lh6PsWNWE1vvsuZyVdVEHPT6hwkO2TS7twMz5/s847/Parsnip-seeds.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="551" data-original-width="847" height="208" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilolhnpErxCSWBh5qYGrxjdpX_eElsvoeuwh3f1peNBHoBFtsi90Yz1uB-LPqtCb8u0YxsowrI2R7QpItKhkLAbCY0dg1-nvENd4zkhkK1hJWJY3Ery0PfQrchnURF3OrrUvBnS5bjnsHbue6Lh6PsWNWE1vvsuZyVdVEHPT6hwkO2TS7twMz5/s320/Parsnip-seeds.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-size: medium;">I planted the seeds on a very windy day; they are so light, I had a problem with keeping them from blowing away as I planted them.</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">We'll have mostly 50's, 60's, and 70's for two straight weeks. That isn't good, because all the fruit trees will think it's time to flower and then we'll be hit by cold weather that will kill the blossoms. During the last three years, I've become a believer in global warming, although it's nothing I'd argue about, simply because there was crazy weather long before I was born. But in mid-Missouri? In February? Yeah, probably. </span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">This Missouri river-bluff hill we live on is nothing but wind-blown, very sandy soil, so it doesn't hold water well; it can rain two inches on Tuesday and I'll be using the tiller on it two days later. On the bright side, we have no rocks in our soil, unless you count the Indian arrows and spearheads.</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">Here's a little poem from my self-published book:</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">HOPE, FAITH, AND LOVE</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">It's Hope that orders garden seed in winter's snow and rain.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Although the world is frozen, Hope can see it born again!</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">It's Faith that plants the tiny seeds, when spring has not arrived;</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The seeds look dry and dormant, but Faith whispers, "They're alive."</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">It's Love that tends the growing plants, and prays for rain and sun. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Love hopes and weeds and labors till the garden season's done.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">When I work in the garden I'm reminded, row by row,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">That hope and faith and love <i>together</i> make the Christian grow.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj3oO_zE5ssyfiPOoIPj8jq8GlEicV9_qpMvkaV1-YiecI9nQeElfN2VImNsQUtD2Vpdh-ug0-v9TigtTj4ilZ-tppyoNU8UZwhqxh2gaQo4_-GoD1WZoZNkZN_xL_-tJgbsDRuFp_kO9e6zmzTFEpRYijHMNH-Lx9rQt_lrZi1KurMgu0VyMJ/s5152/IMG_1982.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="5152" data-original-width="3864" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj3oO_zE5ssyfiPOoIPj8jq8GlEicV9_qpMvkaV1-YiecI9nQeElfN2VImNsQUtD2Vpdh-ug0-v9TigtTj4ilZ-tppyoNU8UZwhqxh2gaQo4_-GoD1WZoZNkZN_xL_-tJgbsDRuFp_kO9e6zmzTFEpRYijHMNH-Lx9rQt_lrZi1KurMgu0VyMJ/s320/IMG_1982.jpeg" width="240" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><div><span style="font-size: medium;">Now abide faith, hope, and love, these three; but the greatest of these is love. I Corinthians 13:13</span></div><div><br /></div></div>Donna. Whttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18393352099473686196noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36183952.post-61566786438765231622024-02-18T05:36:00.009-06:002024-02-18T17:37:32.512-06:00Sunday Stealing<p><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>Typical of me, I had four songs on the wrong links. I doubt if it mattered, because nobody wants to actually HEAR the songs anyway. I did correct them... I think. But if anyone else put links on their songs for this Sunday, I'm going to at least listen to a little bit of the songs if I'm not familiar with them.</i></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Name a song that...</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">1. You enjoy, in another language. <i>Miriam Makeba singing <span style="background-color: white; color: #0f0f0f; font-family: inherit;">Qongqothwane, </span>"<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n-4U2hfMpnk">The Click Song</a>". I saw her in person long ago when I went to see Peter, Paul, and Mary.</i></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">2. Recently introduced you to a new singer. <i>My brain has no room for new singers. I listen to the old ones.</i></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">3. You listen to to energize: <i><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lODUP2orePk">Great Day to be Alive</a></i> </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">4. Is your favorite song from a musical. <i><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vs1iqeua3qI">Some Enchanted Evening</a></i></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">5. Reminds you of an old love: <i>Some of God's greatest gifts are</i> <i><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q9Xawlq1-oE">Unanswered Prayers</a></i></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">6. Make you think of one of your children: <i><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9OfoTaLXrUo">Say You, Say Me</a> makes me think of my teenage daughter. <a href="https://www.youtube.com/shorts/hvT_r8xlmjY">You Shook Me All Night Long </a>makes me remember my teenage son; he was driving me to the grocery store at age 16, hearing his favorite songs as they came on the radio; when that song came on, he turned it up louder. I was shocked!!!!</i></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">7. Makes you smile when you hear it. <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vZ6INAayEJI"><i>Spanish Pipedream</i> </a></span></p>
<p><span style="font-size: medium;">8. You love but is quite unknown.<i> <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=niz2YJBOjCg">Our Town</a></i> </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">9. That annoys you. <i><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EThJhbUKzmo">Giddyup Go</a> makes me want to shoot myself. Don't waste your time listening to it.</i></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">10. That your parents used to listen to. <i><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9G2T0ad1-h4">Lay That Pistol Down</a></i></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">11. From your early years of childhood: <i><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MQnr-U_Z1-I">Dear Hearts and Gentle People</a></i></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">12. That has a color in the title.<i> <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RQ_nudgEAQc">The Green Green Grass of Home</a></i></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">13. That needs to be played loud. <i><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W1LsRShUPtY">Old-time Rock and Roll</a></i></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">14. That is perfect for a road trip. <i><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y6yxMv5xUk8">Just Bummin' Around</a></i></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">15. That reminds you of yourself. <i><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dWMowugNkmw">Out Behind the Barn</a> (Our trailer house is behind the barn).</i></span></p>Donna. Whttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18393352099473686196noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36183952.post-35906114176089709402024-02-17T07:25:00.004-06:002024-02-17T09:13:35.970-06:00The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly<p><span style="font-size: medium;">Let's start with the bad, which is also ugly: The shootings at the Chiefs' celebration parade and party. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">I don't have anything to add to what the news has told you. This happened forty miles away from my home, so it has definitely been on my mind. A couple of hours after it happened, I heard the Kansas City police chief say, "This isn't Kansas City."</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Really? 2023 was the deadliest year ever for homicides in Kansas City; 285 people were killed in the Kansas City streets and homes last year. It's no better and no worse than any other big cities in the United States. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Here's one little plus, as far as I'm concerned, from the Kansas City Star: <i>"Missouri House Republicans have scrapped two gun-related bills this year following the mass shooting at the Kansas City Chiefs Super Bowl victory rally. House Majority Leader Jonathan Patterson, a Lee’s Summit Republican, told The Star on Friday that House Republicans this year would no longer pursue the two bills. One would allow guns on public transit and inside churches and the other would exempt firearms and ammunition from sales taxes." </i></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Also: </span><a href="https://apnews.com/article/taylor-swift-donation-chiefs-parade-shooting-299c357fb5d52c106b9c05b51b536f3c" style="font-size: large;">Taylor Swift donated $100,000 to the family of the woman who was killed. </a></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">That's all I have to say about that, but this year's Valentine's Day will always bring bad memories.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">And now, the good. Something wonderful has happened in my neighborhood that I didn't expect to see in my lifetime: As of yesterday, we have Spectrum fiber-optic Internet. That three-minute video I put on Youtube yesterday uploaded in 90 seconds! The best news is that we'll be saving a nice chunk of money while getting 10 times the speed. We've had Nexus for a year or two; it comes to us through the air from two miles away and has served our needs very well. However, we've been paying $80 a month for 30 MBPS, which is the only reason I decided to switch. We are now getting 300 MBPS for $40 monthly, for two years. Then it goes up to $70, which is still cheaper. We'll also be leaving T-Mobile and using Spectrum for our cell phones: one phone will be free for a year while we'll pay $30 for the other; then we'll pay $60 for the two. Our phone bills have been almost a hundred bucks a month with T-Mobile, so we'll still be saving money. For any neighbors in and around my little town, call Spectrum and get a bargain! </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguAeEmRaChH5_dpa3acS1N6WHBIrNAmMDU1YGMKxOFtRkwQe6IVivUQzym1HjMUFPkIil-TxerxpX3xvNKLJrcImj-LNuqEGn_abgbS2EYdvktmmiudy_Aay9bGmE9aIDX98-DCNQQQDXqVAjYc7B4SZL8TBqvXRY8xMU-L9jwHW3PygykTysb/s5152/IMG_1975.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3864" data-original-width="5152" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguAeEmRaChH5_dpa3acS1N6WHBIrNAmMDU1YGMKxOFtRkwQe6IVivUQzym1HjMUFPkIil-TxerxpX3xvNKLJrcImj-LNuqEGn_abgbS2EYdvktmmiudy_Aay9bGmE9aIDX98-DCNQQQDXqVAjYc7B4SZL8TBqvXRY8xMU-L9jwHW3PygykTysb/w640-h480/IMG_1975.jpeg" width="640" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Yesterday it snowed.</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVxcURwhwwEtxmrqJk_qbGNUdl-4h1dBfBegBCrIF0xUHfeOXhspCmnp6X8_jxXwnKm4LotwEuPZE1Ha_GSBNvO23NUwQJywyMxtxBQJ3-coEJ4YIm6502ks2P0lFxXiwjjH6zmYr1T92jT8POEIcil27E1e3-JesDs88TZrkloAbh9ICfVsy5/s5152/IMG_1969.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3864" data-original-width="5152" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVxcURwhwwEtxmrqJk_qbGNUdl-4h1dBfBegBCrIF0xUHfeOXhspCmnp6X8_jxXwnKm4LotwEuPZE1Ha_GSBNvO23NUwQJywyMxtxBQJ3-coEJ4YIm6502ks2P0lFxXiwjjH6zmYr1T92jT8POEIcil27E1e3-JesDs88TZrkloAbh9ICfVsy5/w640-h480/IMG_1969.jpeg" width="640" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhflTx8VF5SkAoqjYuebMzzRkgJuvFwVgQyBzqojjLBDICK4XFecy9gRMN-_YtG6yJsh0_r_H6DRsdJ4KLeg6bnBaUrfrTFK1IJByHFLU27ZUDtzgWQV6rNOl0TlMGaJcgIU6YdqFWFsIbCy-pft9f28rDg_f1lzdRAfZoO6KW-dMpz7u52EbAW/s5152/IMG_1973.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3864" data-original-width="5152" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhflTx8VF5SkAoqjYuebMzzRkgJuvFwVgQyBzqojjLBDICK4XFecy9gRMN-_YtG6yJsh0_r_H6DRsdJ4KLeg6bnBaUrfrTFK1IJByHFLU27ZUDtzgWQV6rNOl0TlMGaJcgIU6YdqFWFsIbCy-pft9f28rDg_f1lzdRAfZoO6KW-dMpz7u52EbAW/w640-h480/IMG_1973.jpeg" width="640" /></span></a></div><p><span style="font-size: medium;">We've been having high temperatures in the fifties and sixties, but when I got up this morning, it was 10°. Wednesday it's headed for 68°. I am still wishing for rain, or even more snow. to help this thirsty ground in Missouri.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">That's it for today. Peace.</span></p>Donna. Whttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18393352099473686196noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36183952.post-85241819442445007382024-02-15T16:34:00.005-06:002024-02-15T16:34:45.727-06:00How about a home-made song from 1979?<p><span style="font-size: medium;"> My kids were 13 and 11 when I wrote this. Most of you women will agree with every word, I imagine. It's a fun song, and I'm proud I wrote it. As I always tell you, I am not a musician, I'm a songwriter. I can hear myself go off-key as well as anybody else can.</span></p>
<iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/WpQGuC-l6Xo?si=8rtt9Yi2mgQMF7NL" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe>Donna. Whttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18393352099473686196noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36183952.post-19509721602221266172024-02-12T08:03:00.003-06:002024-02-12T10:10:43.577-06:00A picture of the library table<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Sheila told me she wanted to see my mother's Library Table I talked about in the previous entry, so here it is. I found this picture that I took when we were first moving into the trailer house. I'm really glad, because right now it's pretty loaded and you couldn't see much of it.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg15YEFXzQRuG_edIfc7qtykOO9JL9Jn5So2aA03nqG3u7eA8EW8nf7BcP0WRmHr90d9FzbvDq2DwP8GyupcmpQC1w3cG5mddp0UlCijXlNSwk1_-aVeUSMfZSYBu7xZkb2iaTxMWp1pi4fb34jJVJd3jRNBDjU5UMfF97_5b230fVrarXGKJyJ/s1600/library%20table.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg15YEFXzQRuG_edIfc7qtykOO9JL9Jn5So2aA03nqG3u7eA8EW8nf7BcP0WRmHr90d9FzbvDq2DwP8GyupcmpQC1w3cG5mddp0UlCijXlNSwk1_-aVeUSMfZSYBu7xZkb2iaTxMWp1pi4fb34jJVJd3jRNBDjU5UMfF97_5b230fVrarXGKJyJ/w640-h480/library%20table.jpeg" width="640" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Below is how it looks right now: Welcome to my bedroom! Yes, Cliff is still sleeping, at almost 8 o'clock; we had a hard night helping the Chiefs win the Super Bowl. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">My Bose and all our CDs are on it. The afghan on the foot of the bed was made by my mother's sister, my Aunt Ruby. It's been warming our feet for many winters, another object I treasure.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhip9GS-YDthekqHsb2_5GHuErwhgTazk4PxFEFCbTiaa04U5fkSdtTdv43XPpvQd6455wBA4wwXzjxYan0ZXBO-Y7Zu7pSkiSIosCxf_imGWUckpA5vyJ3UB4k3hJ4E0o3poM1KgrzsdgSQ-kXAFsa6JQagE0NXTlWsl6xMTBX3yadH8_oxCzN/s5152/IMG_1960.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3864" data-original-width="5152" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhip9GS-YDthekqHsb2_5GHuErwhgTazk4PxFEFCbTiaa04U5fkSdtTdv43XPpvQd6455wBA4wwXzjxYan0ZXBO-Y7Zu7pSkiSIosCxf_imGWUckpA5vyJ3UB4k3hJ4E0o3poM1KgrzsdgSQ-kXAFsa6JQagE0NXTlWsl6xMTBX3yadH8_oxCzN/w640-h480/IMG_1960.jpeg" width="640" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">When I was small, my mom usually had framed pictures setting on the top, and also on the bottom shelf. In Junior High, I used it for a desk in my bedroom. I never knew my grandfather who made the thing. He died six years before I was born. I'm pretty sure he made one of those for all five of his children.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">It isn't fancy at all, but it has served many purposes in my lifetime. The drawer doesn't have runners, which makes it clumsy to pull out. So you have to use both hands to keep it coming sometimes.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">For me, it's all about the memories.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNJdRJ4zPbPWfTKbwL8vnrTCc0trxNIsaGt8V8RpsUJZXwneO7rs1sltB7qS9ftuHcxZf5-NriOfj2jySfEO2dK7Vloq5zsJf4sF6WL2pbAlWFWMP971rhFcUDyaXAwSL3aSHYArvIAFjU8YTh1iSwybzf6SjEqP_Mvskfba4kbiQoJwewy7Y0/s5152/IMG_1963.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3864" data-original-width="5152" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNJdRJ4zPbPWfTKbwL8vnrTCc0trxNIsaGt8V8RpsUJZXwneO7rs1sltB7qS9ftuHcxZf5-NriOfj2jySfEO2dK7Vloq5zsJf4sF6WL2pbAlWFWMP971rhFcUDyaXAwSL3aSHYArvIAFjU8YTh1iSwybzf6SjEqP_Mvskfba4kbiQoJwewy7Y0/s320/IMG_1963.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX210EhfGh8R6eCm8QUwF7c51RAMERv5TjsA9RuSLYJQG60qJI4R_CH2kaJvMM6EsjhDUWLVxbIVdfwZ21fhSu5gDEV8PZP9VS5iMg6m6P0eag1uWg4Z0Y_scZymQRRS6DHSvAFjAS2CloQ4KcSgCZntaFOLflKsvzfHj3xvPzKi5Qtx9Q3nrj/s5152/IMG_1966.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3864" data-original-width="5152" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX210EhfGh8R6eCm8QUwF7c51RAMERv5TjsA9RuSLYJQG60qJI4R_CH2kaJvMM6EsjhDUWLVxbIVdfwZ21fhSu5gDEV8PZP9VS5iMg6m6P0eag1uWg4Z0Y_scZymQRRS6DHSvAFjAS2CloQ4KcSgCZntaFOLflKsvzfHj3xvPzKi5Qtx9Q3nrj/s320/IMG_1966.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">No runners.</span></div></div><p></p>Donna. Whttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18393352099473686196noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36183952.post-64451845753545427232024-02-11T05:22:00.007-06:002024-02-11T07:32:17.145-06:00Sunday Stealing<p><span style="font-size: medium;">1. What is a big dream you have for the future? <i>I no longer have big dreams. I take life day to day and try to live in the moment. I will say that I've seen many dreams come true throughout my life.</i></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">2. What are your favorite hobbies?<i> Reading, gardening, blogging</i></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">3. If you could change the world, what would you do? <i>I have changed the world, and so have you. You change the world by touching people around you. You cannot live your life without changing the world. My hope would be that those changes have been positive ones; sometimes even negative changes can turn out for good, if someone gets a lesson out of them.</i></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">4. What places have you traveled to? <i>Colorado, the Grand Canyon, Minnesota, Iowa, Wisconsin, Virginia, Maryland, Mexico, Texas... who cares?</i> What was your favorite? <i>My Grandma Stevens had a cloth thing on the back of the rocking chair she always sat in with these words stitched on it: "Travel East, Travel West. After all, Home is Best." The older I get, the more I realize the truth in that sentiment.</i></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>5. What is the weirdest thing you’ve ever eaten? </span><i>Mountain Oysters</i></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">6. What are your favorite places to eat? <i>The Pizza Hut buffet in Higginsville; and KFC, if I can ever find a location where the floor isn't greasy and the people working there don't look like they're on crack. </i></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">7. What kind of music do you like? <i>folk and country </i>Talk about a favorite artist or songs.<i> John Prine, the most unique songwriter I know of. He could make up a song out of anything or nothing. Some make me laugh (Spanish Pipedream), some make me feel like crying (There's a Hole in Daddy's Arm).</i></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">8. What was the last book you read? <i>I'm reading a series of four books by Shane Parkinson. I'm on the third book right now.</i></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">9. If you could meet a character from a book, who would it be? <i>I can't think of any</i></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">10. Do you prefer books or movies? <i>books</i> Why? <i>You can read a book any time, anywhere. I put a lot of myself in books I read; everybody does. I might imagine a character to be totally different that another reader does. A book lets you decide what someone's house looks like, or imagine what they look like.</i></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">11. What is something you used to be scared of, but aren’t any more? <i>When we were having some hard times, I used to worry we'd lose our home... although we never even made a late payment! I'm sure I've been scared of lots of things in my almost 80 years. I just don't think about them now.</i></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">12. What is something you were never afraid of, but are now? <i>I seem to be losing a lot of my words, and I worry about getting dementia... I worry more for family members than for myself.</i></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">13. What item is your most cherished possession? <i>a walnut table my grandfather made for my mom when she was a teenager. Mother called it a library table. </i>Why? <i>Because I grew up with it. I colored in my color-books on the bottom shelf of it with my legs stretched underneath the shelf. I've often wondered if, when they cremate me, they could burn that piece of furniture with me. It means nothing to anyone else. Silly thought, I know. </i></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">14. What awards or contests have you won?<i> None.</i></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">15. Do you like working jigsaw puzzles? <i>No. I've never had the patience for them.</i></span></p><div><br style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /></div>Donna. Whttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18393352099473686196noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36183952.post-32175459830838529012024-02-09T08:51:00.002-06:002024-02-09T08:58:20.589-06:00What a perfect day I had<p><span style="font-size: medium;">I'm not sleeping well at all lately, but yesterday was a good day in spite of that. I did some reading: I don't think everybody would like the Shayne Parkinson book series I'm into right now, but I'm going to be very sad when I get to the last book of the series. I'm on the third book, but there are still more. It covers members of a farming family in New Zealand for many years, over several generations. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">I carefully got on the recumbent bike and slowly rode for half an hour. My knees weren't hurting at all when I was done. The temperatures were warm outside, although there was a really brisk wind. So Gabe and I out for some sunshine. My knees still didn't hurt significantly, so instead of just sitting in the sun, I thought I'd try taking a walk. Gabe has been a naughty boy lately; he's decided he's going to go where he wants to and turn a deaf ear to me calling him back, so I had Cliff put batteries in the shock collar to give him a little reminder of who is the boss. I only shocked him once, at the first part of our walk. He started running toward the ditch where he's been finding tasty, rotten things to eat. That time I just used the buzzer button when he ignored me, but he did come back when he felt it. Later on he was headed in the direction of the adjoining neighbor's property and ignored me again; that time he got a shock. I had a decent little walk, except it felt like the wind would blow me away.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">After our noon meal, I kept thinking about the garden. The soil was damp and the day was bright, and I was wishing I could do something in the garden. I asked Cliff where he put the tiller for the winter and he said, "It's in the garage. Want me to get it out?"</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Of course!</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">I had three types of the seeds one can safely plant in February in Missouri: Spinach, peas, and parsnips. I'm not a big fan of leaf lettuce, but now I'm regretting not buying lettuce seeds, because that would be the first thing that would be ready to eat! Maybe Walmart will have some. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">I tilled a patch of soil and planted what I had. The wind would have blown away a lot of the parsnip seeds, because they weigh almost nothing. However, when I hoed the row for them I put water in the bottom of the row and that sort of made those little seeds stick until I got them covered.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">After all of that, my knees still didn't hurt much, and I hadn't taken so much as an aspirin all day.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">We had not even started watching any of our evening TV shows when our daughter showed up on her way home from work. She and her husband only live two miles away, but she works a lot of hours at her job, so when they show up, we are very happy to see them. Rachel and Kevin are very good to us, bringing us little presents for no reason every now and then. We had the best visit ever; they left us feeling very blessed. The grandson came over intending to join us, but he was too late. They had already left. But we had another good time visiting with him. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Days don't get any better than that.</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_-v_mnadpbtxfl8iCd_XPK2rMHPDohyphenhyphenU4YxHUFKy0djSA400saezkaF9vyGSKWFhCaqFU9Wf9_X8gH2WOaOEVh5U2WodKSL2YAKxi19IhkRgCgYPjTX0tvYtzwhtcMGOafGlPkXBYYSHh_PApU7jDGtXrPhKOuWs-JvBUmiBinHEWm6veRrcY/s2000/Gardening%20in%20February.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="2000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_-v_mnadpbtxfl8iCd_XPK2rMHPDohyphenhyphenU4YxHUFKy0djSA400saezkaF9vyGSKWFhCaqFU9Wf9_X8gH2WOaOEVh5U2WodKSL2YAKxi19IhkRgCgYPjTX0tvYtzwhtcMGOafGlPkXBYYSHh_PApU7jDGtXrPhKOuWs-JvBUmiBinHEWm6veRrcY/w640-h480/Gardening%20in%20February.jpeg" width="640" /></span></a></div><p></p>Donna. Whttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18393352099473686196noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36183952.post-68819021425524377742024-02-08T05:48:00.004-06:002024-02-08T06:39:25.343-06:00I didn't know anything about Taylor Swift<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq6TqbC47JaDMTDvyOcXry-PWEJiZXGpc6tkqH54P5wKgqTDNuwvNwq_Eq8zH-MYp31Hj-McDZAOkbOKa_QkuKpFO0G36pUFbmChX728pDrNz69tGZ7wmOFmu3skmEio3TtNJAWX6G0uFDnQI3K_gnXC-9gRVBGGhhyz4hpVm5bOcfSPPvhG5_/s1581/TaylorSwiftChiefs.webp" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1054" data-original-width="1581" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq6TqbC47JaDMTDvyOcXry-PWEJiZXGpc6tkqH54P5wKgqTDNuwvNwq_Eq8zH-MYp31Hj-McDZAOkbOKa_QkuKpFO0G36pUFbmChX728pDrNz69tGZ7wmOFmu3skmEio3TtNJAWX6G0uFDnQI3K_gnXC-9gRVBGGhhyz4hpVm5bOcfSPPvhG5_/w640-h426/TaylorSwiftChiefs.webp" width="640" /></span></a></div><p><span style="font-size: medium;">At first, I had no opinion about this lady who started coming to the Chiefs' games. Her music isn't my kind of music, but that doesn't make me dislike her. For just a little while, when the cameras caught her rooting for the Chiefs up there in the stadium, I was a bit jealous over Travis Kelce. He was my favorite, and I wondered if he shaved his handsome beard just because of "that woman". By the way, his beard is back now, so I forgave her that. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Many Chief fans, especially men, didn't like the cameras being focused on Taylor Swift's face all the time <i>("We're here to watch the Chiefs"),</i> and for a while, for no reason whatever, I went along with that. Yeah, we're here to watch the Chiefs, buddy, not some singer who isn't even country, for pete's sake.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">The first person who helped me realize I might want to pay attention to this singer was a grandmother at the Methodist church I attend who told me about her granddaughters being ardent "swifties"; she considers Taylor Swift to be a very positive role model. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">I began reading about her in the news: she shares her bounty with everyone she employs. She helps charities in each city where she performs. She contributed money after a tornado ravaged Nashville. It goes on and on. "That Woman", as I used to refer to her, does some great things with her fortune.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Click <a href="https://www.kcur.org/news/2023-12-28/how-taylor-swift-travis-kelce-brought-a-gold-rush-to-kansas-city-chiefs">HERE</a> if you want to see what a big deal she is for all of Kansas City.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">So I have decided to share Travis Kelce with her, since it looks more and more like they may be together for a while. I think she's a good role model for him, too. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Maybe she's even a good role model for me.</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGmp5d1888MSLMJUqOarC4J9FpTsKOdezG0kQnaMksmKyxWYVbwgO2zedvPlfJfef8KI1yPxgt_UR0dLwM-LJk8suotE7dWAc5Csm73IOGt0Xr-Nk4HnM6_IZTxIkVuirp6O8LqWZ_n-Zr0MaXfOkj0AGG1XR_1e9290Le39wNkv6Npqsm7pmq/s1760/where's%20taylor.webp" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1174" data-original-width="1760" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGmp5d1888MSLMJUqOarC4J9FpTsKOdezG0kQnaMksmKyxWYVbwgO2zedvPlfJfef8KI1yPxgt_UR0dLwM-LJk8suotE7dWAc5Csm73IOGt0Xr-Nk4HnM6_IZTxIkVuirp6O8LqWZ_n-Zr0MaXfOkj0AGG1XR_1e9290Le39wNkv6Npqsm7pmq/w400-h266/where's%20taylor.webp" width="400" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-size: medium;">I want to add this: I've never listened to an entire song by Taylor Swift. Two or three times I have asked Alexa to play one, but I don't listen long. Her music doesn't fit into my life style. But I will admit her voice quality is great. I'd bet she's never hit a flat note in her life.</span><p></p>Donna. Whttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18393352099473686196noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36183952.post-61757049501165033372024-02-05T08:47:00.003-06:002024-02-05T09:01:20.010-06:00Sunday Stealing<p><span style="font-size: medium;">1. What three words best describe you? <i>lazy, self centered, and too old to change. Sorry, that's more than three words. Also, I've never followed directions very well.</i></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">2. What makes you unique?<i> Everything about me</i></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">3. Who is someone important in your life?<i> my husband</i></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">4. What is something that always makes you laugh? <i>my husband, my dog, and the cat</i></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">5. Who is someone who can always cheer you up? <i>My husband, my dog, and my cat</i></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">6. When was a time you were really proud of yourself? <i>Times when I sing a song I've written and see people's faces who are obviously moved by it.</i></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">7. What is something that is difficult for you? S<i>aying the right things to people.</i></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">8. What three places would you love to travel to?<i> I have little desire to travel any more. I'd like to go to Nashville, but the traffic is so bad there and my husband would do nothing but worry. A bus that would take us around town might fix that, if there is such a thing.</i></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">9. What is a fun memory you have with your best friend? <i>My husband is my best friend, and I have lots of fun memories of our motorcycle rides. Those were the most "together" times we ever spent. Obviously we are together all the time now, but both of us were having fun at the same time then.</i></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">10. If you could have dessert for breakfast, what would you eat?<i> Any sweet at all. I've often had pie or cookies for breakfast.</i></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">11. If you published a book or wrote a movie, what would it be about?<i> I am incapable of writing a story about people who don't exist, so I guess it would be an autobiography... a very boring one, most likely. That's what my blog is.</i></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">12. Which is easier, math or English? <i>ENGLISH!!!!!!</i></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">13.What three things make you the happiest?<i> Cooking, gardening, and walks in the woods and too many other things to count.</i></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">14. What is an event in your life that has shaped who you are today? When I was maybe eight years old, m<i>y Sunday School teacher invited several of us to her house for Sunday dinner after church. I rode to their house in their car, and we arrived before anyone else was there. Before she went to the kitchen, she got a guitar out its case and played one song: "There was an old Woman Who Swallowed a Fly". I begged her to sing more, but people were arriving and she had to tend to dinner. It was the very first time I realized that someone I knew could play a guitar and sing; I never forgot it. I'm not sure I would ever have wanted a guitar had I not had that experience. When I was 19 or so trying to make up songs, I realized I needed something to help me figure out new tunes, it seemed like if I strummed chords, it would help me with a tune. I've never gotten good at it, nor have I tried; I can't play a song on it, I can only chord, and even that isn't done well. All I wanted was something to help me when I made up a song. </i></span></p><p><i><span style="font-size: medium;">That lady's name was Lois Percell, and several years ago one of her daughters sent me a video of her singing several folk-type songs. If you like, you can hear her sing... click <a href="https://www.loispercell.com/">HERE</a>. </span></i></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">15. Which is more important, being kind or being honest? <i>Usually being kind, I suppose. But there are certain situations when honesty is needed most. I am seldom as kind to people as I should be. </i></span></p><div><br style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /></div>Donna. Whttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18393352099473686196noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36183952.post-59916896913897614202024-02-03T13:00:00.002-06:002024-02-03T13:02:29.635-06:00My Chiefs are NOT part of anyones conspiracy theory.<p><span style="font-size: medium;">This is the <a href="https://www.npr.org/2024/02/01/1228373511/heres-why-conspiracy-theories-about-taylor-swift-and-the-super-bowl-are-spreadin">latest conspiracy theory</a>. </span></p><p style="background-color: white; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; float: none; font-family: NPRSerif, serif; font-feature-settings: inherit; font-kerning: inherit; font-optical-sizing: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-alternates: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; font-variant-position: inherit; font-variation-settings: inherit; letter-spacing: 0.54px; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px auto 1.17647em; max-width: 680px; padding: 0px 15px; position: static; vertical-align: baseline; width: auto;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>During the Chiefs' conference championship game against the Baltimore Ravens on Sunday, Mike Crispi, a pro-Trump podcast host on the right-wing Salem Media Group, posted a rant claiming the NFL had "RIGGED" a Chiefs victory.</i></span></p><p style="background-color: white; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; float: none; font-family: NPRSerif, serif; font-feature-settings: inherit; font-kerning: inherit; font-optical-sizing: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-alternates: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; font-variant-position: inherit; font-variation-settings: inherit; letter-spacing: 0.54px; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px auto 1.17647em; max-width: 680px; padding: 0px 15px; position: static; vertical-align: baseline; width: auto;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>"All to spread DEMOCRAT PROPAGANDA. Calling it now: KC wins, goes to Super Bowl, Swift comes out at the halftime show and 'endorses' Joe Biden with Kelce at midfield. It's all been an op since day one," Crispi wrote on X. (This will be the Chiefs' <a href="https://www.usatoday.com/story/sports/nfl/chiefs/2024/02/01/kansas-city-chiefs-super-bowl-history-stats/72395574007/" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #5076b8; font-family: inherit; font-feature-settings: inherit; font-kerning: inherit; font-optical-sizing: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-variation-settings: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration-line: none; vertical-align: baseline;">fourth Super Bowl appearance</a> in the past five years.)</i></span></p><p style="background-color: white; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; float: none; font-family: NPRSerif, serif; font-feature-settings: inherit; font-kerning: inherit; font-optical-sizing: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-alternates: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; font-variant-position: inherit; font-variation-settings: inherit; letter-spacing: 0.54px; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px auto 1.17647em; max-width: 680px; padding: 0px 15px; position: static; vertical-align: baseline; width: auto;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i><span style="letter-spacing: 0.54px;">"I wonder who's going to win the Super Bowl next month. And I wonder if there's a major presidential endorsement coming from an artificially culturally propped-up couple this fall," former Republican presidential candidate Vivek Ramaswamy, who has pushed debunked conspiracy theories about the</span><a href="https://www.bbc.com/news/world-us-canada-67655552" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #5076b8; font-feature-settings: inherit; font-kerning: inherit; font-optical-sizing: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-alternates: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; font-variant-position: inherit; font-variation-settings: inherit; letter-spacing: 0.54px; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration-line: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> Jan. 6th insurrection</a><span style="letter-spacing: 0.54px;">, the </span><a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2023/12/06/us/politics/vivek-trump-conspiracy-theories.html" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #5076b8; font-feature-settings: inherit; font-kerning: inherit; font-optical-sizing: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-alternates: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; font-variant-position: inherit; font-variation-settings: inherit; letter-spacing: 0.54px; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration-line: none; vertical-align: baseline;">2020 election</a><span style="letter-spacing: 0.54px;">, and </span><a href="https://www.cnn.com/2023/08/22/politics/fact-check-vivek-ramaswamy-the-atlantic-911-misquoted/index.html" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #5076b8; font-feature-settings: inherit; font-kerning: inherit; font-optical-sizing: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-alternates: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; font-variant-position: inherit; font-variation-settings: inherit; letter-spacing: 0.54px; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration-line: none; vertical-align: baseline;">9/11</a><span style="letter-spacing: 0.54px;">, wrote on X, the site formerly known as Twitter, on Monday.</span></i></span></p><p style="background-color: white; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; float: none; font-family: NPRSerif, serif; font-feature-settings: inherit; font-kerning: inherit; font-optical-sizing: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-alternates: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; font-variant-position: inherit; font-variation-settings: inherit; letter-spacing: 0.54px; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px auto 1.17647em; max-width: 680px; padding: 0px 15px; position: static; vertical-align: baseline; width: auto;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.54px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Some people don't have enough to do with their time, if they can worry about stupid things like this.</span></span></p><p style="background-color: white; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; float: none; font-family: NPRSerif, serif; font-feature-settings: inherit; font-kerning: inherit; font-optical-sizing: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-alternates: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; font-variant-position: inherit; font-variation-settings: inherit; letter-spacing: 0.54px; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px auto 1.17647em; max-width: 680px; padding: 0px 15px; position: static; vertical-align: baseline; width: auto;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.54px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">This is from Minnesota Public Radio. Good grief.</span></span></p>Donna. Whttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18393352099473686196noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36183952.post-90104403113051123712024-01-30T09:56:00.004-06:002024-01-30T10:46:45.014-06:00frozen leftovers<span style="font-size: medium;">Probably a month or so ago, I made spaghetti for our dinner. We ate it two days straight, and there was about two cups of my homemade sauce left, so I put it in a covered bowl and put it in the freezer. The same week, we had chili. There were about two cups of that left over, and I froze it too, in a similar container. I put them both in the freezer in our refrigerator, because I didn't want them to be forgotten in the chest freezer; I planned for us to eat them before too much time passed.</span><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">The other day we went shopping and came home around noon. I needed something I could quickly get ready for our dinner, and remembered those two bowls. I raised the lids, sniffed both bowls and got out the chili. I told Cliff I'd bake us each a potato in the microwave and put the chili on it; he'd never heard of such a thing, but he isn't picky about what he eats. He took a bite and said, "This is really good, but I don't think it's chili. It tastes like your spaghetti sauce to me."</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">"I smelled it," I said. "Take it from me, it's chili."</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">When we were done with dinner, he said, "If that was chili, I sure didn't see any beans!" </span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">Of course there were beans, I told him; I saw beans in mine. Sheesh. Again, he said he didn't care, and that it was delicious.</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">Today I got out the other bowl out of the freezer and took the lid off. </span><span style="font-size: medium;">There were beans in it... it was chili. He was right all along. </span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">Yes, I told him.</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">Today we'll have the chili topping our potatoes, and maybe some peas on the side. </span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">And I'm going to hang our sheets on the line pretty soon. Won't they smell fresh?</span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></div>Donna. Whttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18393352099473686196noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36183952.post-85388242521256665142024-01-29T14:58:00.005-06:002024-01-29T15:22:49.051-06:00Finally, Sunshine<p><span style="font-size: medium;">This morning there was a heavy dew on the rooftops, but as I type this, we are at 57°. Gabe and I walked around the pasture soaking up the rays of the sun for almost an hour. There was a pretty good breeze that felt fresh and clean on my face.</span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLCnMzFp5P-as_KR9XFGpEobQV1MGwsg6LYRay-AwQeseRFLWzXZoNazE_WxkZFfDYIx90BRBpuglTAim0d2_BnEbO3vSmqUPimWQIkxsEaHI4UTiTxDYfhWnHZhgsieyON51FloHIKyqA27Nkz4-nd12bCoKJ3I5HWXB9-UsKUC9aiz_6Z_6I/s5152/IMG_1947.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3864" data-original-width="5152" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLCnMzFp5P-as_KR9XFGpEobQV1MGwsg6LYRay-AwQeseRFLWzXZoNazE_WxkZFfDYIx90BRBpuglTAim0d2_BnEbO3vSmqUPimWQIkxsEaHI4UTiTxDYfhWnHZhgsieyON51FloHIKyqA27Nkz4-nd12bCoKJ3I5HWXB9-UsKUC9aiz_6Z_6I/w640-h480/IMG_1947.jpeg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">For whatever reason, we call the grassy place with trees on three sides of it "the Point". This is the view from the back of our house.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1ds2ZVuRcgRewNd-Cuv7CHqXv55nT1FRUJg78zurE_j3K7lHHxz1OyFEwv2MIc59C6gM2RBgDRHM3Zdo-bR4pd144GYxpu56Syb7iP9wdbF6xOZLy1XbAA6s8KAakljpP-b9iNW2PYC5DXTvCwwhewLhZ7GsB_CiQ14l9SlufJdYy8aagoynx/s5152/IMG_1948.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3864" data-original-width="5152" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1ds2ZVuRcgRewNd-Cuv7CHqXv55nT1FRUJg78zurE_j3K7lHHxz1OyFEwv2MIc59C6gM2RBgDRHM3Zdo-bR4pd144GYxpu56Syb7iP9wdbF6xOZLy1XbAA6s8KAakljpP-b9iNW2PYC5DXTvCwwhewLhZ7GsB_CiQ14l9SlufJdYy8aagoynx/w640-h480/IMG_1948.jpeg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I invited Gabe up onto the stump and told him to sit for a picture. Blue didn't want to be left out, I suppose.</td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxQcQTF4NjxBBTM20H7CDrpwzja5_xdij7YakvsaQSEdtJF3-MxAU4eZ8LoJeAcNrXb-t2ciZq4CYFb2v5h_qPEh3qKRw3g5P8UFXQsUYHityFL9y5FL4imf4Xl0gSwv3yAereqfqeor3BBtIV1M2lim8msxdzGyI_PbkjRctPsUp2Kre_5lW0/s5152/IMG_1949.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3864" data-original-width="5152" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxQcQTF4NjxBBTM20H7CDrpwzja5_xdij7YakvsaQSEdtJF3-MxAU4eZ8LoJeAcNrXb-t2ciZq4CYFb2v5h_qPEh3qKRw3g5P8UFXQsUYHityFL9y5FL4imf4Xl0gSwv3yAereqfqeor3BBtIV1M2lim8msxdzGyI_PbkjRctPsUp2Kre_5lW0/w640-h480/IMG_1949.jpeg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My boys</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJzR7inBmM0oldvAYglgmEABt_0tPUwqttB7StCKlaYgWYtSiVcZ3I8zfNXMZJpEp4WnMgp-k92L_iHTpOOsCJoExZsAVkkELu3bce6JWVoz64HW8k74VQlDRN_vIpwLCceyCe9wxXMGHBwcoRiGPHEOVhMJ0vzpR9uub1xkX1yCySp9rhtu9k/s5152/IMG_1950.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="5152" data-original-width="3864" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJzR7inBmM0oldvAYglgmEABt_0tPUwqttB7StCKlaYgWYtSiVcZ3I8zfNXMZJpEp4WnMgp-k92L_iHTpOOsCJoExZsAVkkELu3bce6JWVoz64HW8k74VQlDRN_vIpwLCceyCe9wxXMGHBwcoRiGPHEOVhMJ0vzpR9uub1xkX1yCySp9rhtu9k/w480-h640/IMG_1950.jpeg" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Just some of our second-growth timber</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><span style="font-size: medium;">It was great to be outside.</span><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">I had to quit using my recumbent bike some time back because my replacement knee got to hurting pretty bad when I pedaled. Today I successfully managed to ride again for 30 minutes without pain; I didn't make it as hard a ride as before. It's better to do less than do nothing, so I hope this will do the trick. So far I'm not hurting.</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">Yesterday I introduced the new song I wrote three weeks ago to both my churches. I am usually not nervous singing my songs at these small churches, but this song hadn't been tested yet. It seems like everybody approved of it. I put my first draft of it in an earlier entry, but I made another video after I got more familiar with it and changed some things, so I'm putting it here. After writing lyrics for a song, I strum my guitar and try to figure out a tune; then I have to record the song when I've decided on the tune, because I don't know enough about notes to write a tune on paper; having a video of it keeps me using the same tune long enough to get used to it. I've had a time finding a suitable title, so I guess I'll just call it "My Story". As I've said before, I am a song writer, not a musician.</span></div><div><br /></div><iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/sICiDgoj__M?si=x1RPgdQLAH-pUjqi" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe>Donna. Whttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18393352099473686196noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36183952.post-16240435198470419092024-01-27T07:14:00.010-06:002024-01-27T08:05:27.068-06:00What a cat!<p><span style="font-size: medium;">My dog, Gabe, always knows when our indoor-outdoor cat Blue is on the front porch, and he lets me know so I can invite Blue to come inside. The dog likes having Blue around to pester when he gets bored.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Yesterday evening Gabe let me know the cat was out there, so I opened the door. Blue was just laying there, but he didn't get up when I held the door open for him. After five minutes or so, I got to thinking perhaps he wasn't feeling well and decided to check on him. Imagine my surprise when I saw a dead rat laying on the porch beside him. I hate rats! I'm even a little leery of them. Cliff was sitting on the couch surfing the Internet, but I told him to get up and come to see what was on the porch with the cat. First he said, "What now... did he puke?" Once my husband sits down for the evening, he isn't too worried about what the dog and cat do. Actually he never does get as excited as I do over their silly antics. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">I insisted he get up and come and look. Yes, he was surprised too. I've seen Blue catch mice before; all he does is play with them for awhile, and when he gets tired of that, he lets them go free. I still don't know if the grandson's dogs killed the rat and left it laying, or if Blue did the killing. It was the size of a gray squirrel. Just in case he was the hunter that took it down, I petted him and told him what a good boy he was to bring us a take-out meal. He can kill all the rats he wants!</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Years ago when my children were babies Cliff and I saw our old barn cat catch a rat; believe me, the rat put up a terrible fight, but the cat won. It was really impressive, what with her being a smallish cat and the rat being extra large.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">After telling Blue what a hero he was, I shut the door and let him enjoy his prey. I peeked out later and he was eating it, starting with the head. Eww. This morning Blue was on the porch wanting to come in, and I saw all that was left of the rat was the back legs and tail. Blue was finally ready to come in the house. Knowing Gabe would be messing around with what was left of the rat when I let him outside, I put it in a sack and threw it in the burn barrel.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Blue wanted out later and was very disappointed that his snack was gone, but now he's lying on his back in his own personal chair relaxing, no doubt plotting his next free meal.</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi81kaqf3vG-GbKcHoSc_HfLu19v00sPqgcIj1zVleSuqaV-ZHi9lAs3BLZ8DlJgKZcl2FVBhpVY9X9uPDmDdnLYihzX8MvvARSRC8qDfs8iEBTiQ9z-4-T4nQ8SYRdcKzzMyF7gWLSbMFyW_WIVcdtsyvKx5Y9R0RimzsEidzDMGSmLh6DRWFE/s2847/IMG_1936.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2135" data-original-width="2847" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi81kaqf3vG-GbKcHoSc_HfLu19v00sPqgcIj1zVleSuqaV-ZHi9lAs3BLZ8DlJgKZcl2FVBhpVY9X9uPDmDdnLYihzX8MvvARSRC8qDfs8iEBTiQ9z-4-T4nQ8SYRdcKzzMyF7gWLSbMFyW_WIVcdtsyvKx5Y9R0RimzsEidzDMGSmLh6DRWFE/w640-h480/IMG_1936.jpeg" width="640" /></span></a></div>Donna. Whttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18393352099473686196noreply@blogger.com11