Saturday, April 28, 2018

Just a few observations

Ever since we moved to the country in 1967 and started playing around with pigs, cows, chickens, and other assorted farm animals, I've noticed how little Hollywood knows about farm animals.  Sometimes it's just the small details; other times, the stupidity gets to the point of being ridiculous.  I've seen the same thing in books I've read.

I was reading a book one time (Nora Roberts I think) in which the main characters lived on a cattle ranch in some far-off state like Wyoming.  Cattle start disappearing one at a time.  I don't recall the story line, but as it turns out, the thief was going out to a herd of beef cattle, putting a halter on an animal, and leading it away to a spot where he'd then kill it.  Cliff and I had a good laugh at that, since nobody walks into a herd of beef cows with a halter and leads the cow out.  Your run-of-the-mill cow would walk or trot away before the stranger got to her.  If she did happen to stand still, you'd never get a halter on her, and if you managed to get it on, you wouldn't be able to lead her anywhere, since cows have to be trained to lead.

I realize you can't expect city folks to know this, but if I was writing a book or producing a television show, I think I'd at least talk to a farmer about what goes on with cows.  

I've been watching a show on Netflix, The Ranch.  I first began watching it because I like Ashton Kutcher's looks, and continued watching... well, because I like Ashton Kutcher's looks.  There's WAY too much unnecessary cussing, but I put up with that to watch the two brothers bantering with one another and their dad.  It isn't what I'd call a great show, but it entertains me... mostly because of their total lack of knowledge about cattle. 

On one episode, cattle prices were down and our ranchers were going broke.  On the next episode, cattle prices had suddenly increased to the point where the ranchers were thinking about buying more land.  Within the plot of the story, it couldn't have been over a couple weeks between episodes.  Cattle prices don't normally go up that fast; seems like the bottom can fall out pretty quickly sometimes, but it usually takes a couple of years for them to get back where they were before the market fell.  

The boys call their friendly veterinary frequently to check on a sick cow.  Now, this is a beef cattle ranch; but every time they have the vet over, the sick cow is a friendly Jersey (dairy breed, not beef) wearing a halter, tied to a post and chewing her cud.  Oh, and the floor around her in the barn is spotless, no poop or pee anywhere, the cleanest wood-floored barn I've ever seen.  So the cow obviously isn't sick (chewing her cud?), doesn't defecate, and is trained to stand patiently when tied to a post.  But she is part of a beef herd, with no mention of anybody milking the cow, who would HAVE to be milked, because her udder is huge, and a calf can't take that much.  Besides, I see our ranchers taking store-bought milk from the refrigerator on occasion.  

It's mind-boggling.  Maybe I just need to get out of the house if I'm thinking about all this, right?  After all, it IS a comedy, and I'm getting some extra laughs from their mistakes.  


Tuesday, April 24, 2018

At last, Spring comes!

It's been quite a winter, hasn't it?  People killing other people all over the world, political scandals... and then there's the weather.  It had been months since it was warm enough to go outside and watch the sun come up.  This morning I needed a coat, but the wind was still and the sky was cloudless; this means, of course, that I didn't see a fantastic sunrise, because clouds are needed for that perfection.  But it was just so good to be outside to see the sun.
So lovely

 Gabe decided to eat some watermelon.  The Holsteins wonder why.

As I trimmed fruit trees, I was serenaded by the resident mockingbird.  Glorious!  Just what I've been hungering for.

Yesterday was perfect.  Cliff helped me get a new, much smaller garden spot in a different location:  Behind the house, in the calf pasture (fenced away from them, though).  I only intend to have three or four tomato plants and perhaps four pepper plants.  In any leftover space, I might play around with something else, but it won't be much.

Gabe was outside with us all day yesterday and stayed near one of us all the time.  I took him out with me this morning and he tortured cats while I trimmed at the fruit trees.  Perhaps he won't always have to be on a leash, since he did so well yesterday.  

One interesting note:  Early in our garden-planning yesterday, Cliff got on the tractor; Gabe has a habit of running in front of it when it's moving, and we don't trust him to have enough sense to get out of the way.  So Cliff got on the tractor holding him.  After that, every time my husband started the John Deere, Gabe jumped on.  We won't talk about the way he kept jumping off a moving tractor after half a minute or so every single time, causing me a series of mini-nervous-breakdowns.

I'd love to have a video of Cliff and Gabe on the tractor, but the only camera I had with me was my new smart-phone.  The sun was shining so brightly, I couldn't even see what I was aiming at.  Right then and there, I made up my mind to carry the digital camera with me outside, because it's quicker and easier to use.

It's morel season, although nobody around here is finding a lot of them, just a few little greys.  We need rain, and soon, if it's going to be a decent mushroom year.  As for me, I've almost lost the taste for them, and haven't been able to climb the hills and hunt them for years anyway.  One thing that always heralds morel season is the Redbuds blooming.  My dear departed friend Christine gave me a baby redbud tree four years ago.  It's about ready to burst out in bloom.
When I walk past the tree, I always think of Christine.  

She loved full moons, gardens, springtime, her family, all of nature's creatures, and most of all, Jesus.  I'm so glad I met her during her brief time on this earth.  


Sunday, April 22, 2018

Our first smartphones

We have never wanted smartphones.  For one thing, we didn't want to spend that much money for Internet time.  When I heard what people were paying to stay wired to the Internet constantly, I shuddered.  We neither one actually use a phone much, especially me, so about a year ago I switched us to Consumer Cellular:  $40 a month for the two of us.  However, since I DO like being wired to the Internet on the road, I'd pay $25 every couple of months for cellular coverage from ATT for my iPad.  If we went on a long trip, that $25 worth might only last a month, but otherwise it was good for two or three months.  It was all we really needed in order to stay connected while away from home.  

Unfortunately, Cellular didn't have the best coverage out here, so that caused a few problems.  Also, they only had two choices in flip phones:  I took one model, Cliff chose the other.  The reviews were horrible on both.  I figured they'd probably be OK for us, even though they did leave something to be desired.  Cliff, because he's about half deaf, had trouble hearing his phone.  He doesn't like to talk for an extended period of time because he can only make out phone conversations with his right ear; his right arm gets tired after awhile, holding the phone to his ear.  Bluetooth would probably work well for him, but he didn't want to learn how to use it.  I hope we can change that one of these days.  I think it will change his life.    

So T-mobile came up with a plan for seniors:  for two people, it's $70 monthly for unlimited Internet, with no added taxes or other charges.  Yes, that's $30 more than we paid Consumer Cellular, but we were getting pretty unhappy with them and didn't have Internet.  I know I won't be buying cell coverage on the iPad any more, so that helps make up for the higher phone bill.  After navigating on my new phone for a couple of days, I'm fairly well convinced I won't be buying another iPad when my present one dies, or if I do, it'll be a used one from Ebay.  

We bought two of the cheapest phones T-mobile had.  I like mine, but Cliff is having a rough time getting around on his.  He's never used any devices with apps, and once he opens an app, he isn't sure what to do with it; when he's done with it, I keep telling him to close his apps; he asks how, I show him.  We've repeated this process many times but it doesn't seem to stick with him.  Part of the problem, I believe, is that he just doesn't mess with it enough.  He needs to sit there and navigate to one thing and another to get familiar with it rather than hoping he'll soak it all up by osmosis.    

He can bring up the camera, but can't figure out how to take a picture.  Yes, we've been living in the stone age.  Another problem, his huge fingers.  Keeping his fingers off the screen when he's holding it is a challenge for him; his fingers look like sausages (thanks Lee J.; your description was accurate and I'm keeping it.)

The grandson came over at dinnertime to get out of the way of his wife's house-cleaning, and we started bombarding him with questions:  How do I do this?  How can I find that?  "You mean I have a flashlight on this thing?  Well I'll be damned!"  He cleared a lot of unnecessary apps off Cliff's phone and put other apps in a handier spot.  I watched and learned a few things too.  My daughter used to be stuck with this sort of task, but now the grandson lives closer, so he's elected.

I'm sure most of my readers have used smartphones for years and think I'm an idiot, but this is a whole new ball game for us.  I'm a little ahead of Cliff, thanks to my use of an iPad... not to mention the fact I've logged many more hours online in general than he has.  I wish there were a simple solution to his clumsy, big fingers.  Maybe when we receive the protective cover I ordered for his phone, it'll give him more outside edge to hold onto.  He really wants to figure it out, and I guess that's a start.  

Life is good, time is short, and learning new things is good for us, in spite of how much we hate having to do it.  


Wednesday, April 18, 2018

Peoria Riverfront Museum

By the time we left the Caterpillar Visitor's Center, it was around 3 PM.  We hadn't had a meal since nine o'clock that morning, although there had been snacks on the bus to help keep body and soul together.  We voted on whether to go to Golden Corral or Red Lobster.  Golden Corral won, but not by much.  So we went to Red Lobster for our meal the second day, after visiting this Riverfront Museum.

  You can enter the museum from the river side, coming from the parking garage, or the street side, which is where our bus driver let us off so he could go gamble at the casino.

Folks, this place was great!  I could have spent eight hours here:  The museum contains Abraham Lincoln items, tells the whole history of Illinois, and has one Imax-like movie (amazing!), two other movie theaters showing various films of interest, and a planetarium.  I probably didn't see half of that, but I sure enjoyed what I saw.   

Here's most of our group getting ready to check the place out.

looking toward the depot, Lincoln and Perry Como (I'm still laughing about someone pairing these two up)
A portable desk used by Lincoln

Where the Emancipation Proclamation was drafted

I wasn't caught in the act, but I broke a rule with the above picture.  There are signs all over the place about not using the flash when you take pictures, but at this point I hadn't seen the signs.  So I desecrated this desk by using my flash.

 Posing beside Lincoln makes me look fat.

Mary Todd's rocking chair

Lots of other items of interest, too...
John Deere's plow, the item that started an entire business!

Let me suggest you take a good look at the museum's website (click HERE) to see all they have to offer:  There's a theater showing movies made in Illinois over the years, an Imax-type theater that makes you feel you are part of the documentary you're watching, and a planetarium.  You could stay in the place all day long, and have something to do.  

My two souvenir cups, one from Caterpillar and one from the Riverfront Museum.

I'm sorry I took so long getting back to this, but I've been in a funk with this business of having December weather halfway through April.  It happens.  It's Missouri.  But I don't handle it as well as I did in my younger days.  Things seem to be looking up now.

Wednesday, April 11, 2018

Gingerbread for breakfast

I have started working on the second entry telling you about our bus trip, but it's tedious and I need a break from all the picture-loading and link-searching.  So I'm here now to make a confession:  I had gingerbread for breakfast today WITH whipped cream.  Not Cool Whip, but real whipped cream; as real as you can get in the store, anyway.  I've lived with cream from Jersey cows most of my life, so it's hard to believe the store-bought stuff is genuine, although I know it is.

I have been wanting gingerbread with whipped cream for ages, but that isn't Cliff's favorite.  For the first few years of our marriage, if Cliff didn't like something I cooked, he didn't tell me.  That's my fault, since I took it as a personal affront, even criticism, when he told me.  It was a long time before I was mature enough to let him tell me the foods he would rather not be served, but eventually he found out it was safe to be honest with me... at least, about food.  He doesn't hate it, but if there's any other dessert around, he'll pass on the gingerbread.  So I stopped making gingerbread.  By the way, Toll House cookies aren't his favorite either, but I didn't stop making those because most everybody else in the family loves them.  As for the gingerbread, nobody seemed to miss it, so I deleted it from my life.

For some reason gingerbread with whipped cream came to mind a few months ago and has haunted my imaginings ever since, but we are both trying not to let our weight get out of control, and Cliff doesn't like it.  I'm surprised I haven't actually had dreams about gingerbread.  

Our daughter and her husband come to visit, most Tuesday evenings.  I don't fix supper for them because Cliff and I don't eat an actual meal in the evenings, and if I fixed them something, Cliff wouldn't be able to resist.  However, when my daughter and I messaged, she said they wanted to come and bring their daughter and her new baby:  She asked if I could cook something, but said if I didn't want to, they'd get a pizza on the way home from work.  I figured Cliff and I could break with the usual routine once, and told her I'd make sausage-and-corn-bread squares, simple fare that's easy to make.  Most all the family members like it.  At my age, if they didn't, I wouldn't much care.  I stopped carrying folks on a chip a long time ago.  Entitlement stops at my house.  

But I digress.  People coming for a meal means someone will eat dessert if I make it.  I found a gingerbread recipe that sounded like my old one but made a smaller amount than in the old days, using a 9X9" pan rather than 9X13.  When it was done I took a bite from the corner of the pan and knew I'd hit pay-dirt.  When it was almost time for the group to arrive, I whipped a cup of cream.  

Dreams DO come true.  I didn't eat any of the sausage-corn-bread; I had a big piece of gingerbread with whipped cream on top for supper.  WOW, it was as good as I remembered!  Cliff asked me whether I'd be mad if he had a piece, what with his history of not liking it.  I told him to go ahead, which he did.  He had no comment afterward, so I assume it still isn't his favorite.  The son-in-law, on the other hand, not only ate a piece, but asked if I'd mind if he took a piece for his lunch in the morning.  This raised his status in my book by two points.  

This morning there was half a bowl of whipped cream left in the refrigerator.  I found the biggest piece of gingerbread, dropped it in the bowl, and ate all that with a smile on my face and a cup of coffee by my side.  I wish I'd taken a picture, but your mental image of me with my gingerbread will have to do.  

I'm sharing a picture taken last night of me with my newest great-grandbaby.  I apologize for the high-water breeches I was wearing:  In January I must have had a premonition that the coming several months would be harsh ones, because I bought some men's flannel-lined jeans when stores first started putting winter clothes on clearance.  Unfortunately, there wasn't a lot of choice on the leg length of the remaining Carhartts.  No matter, I figured.  I wouldn't be wearing them anywhere except at home.  

A Bible verse comes to mind:  "For nothing is secret that shall not be made manifest; neither any thing hid that shall not be known and come abroad."

And now the whole Internet has access to a picture of me in my too-short jeans.  Notice Gabe trying to check out the baby.  He wasn't jealous, just curious.  Probably he was thinking, "Hey, this seems like another kid.  I like kids.  Why isn't it running, like the one that is always hanging around does?"

Sunday, April 08, 2018

The Caterpillar Visitor's Center

 After a five-hour-plus ride, we all stood up gradually and got our bodies moving off the bus and into the Caterpillar Visitor Center.  Click on that link and you can read all about it.  You can even scroll down the page and see "take a virtual tour" to go through the whole place by yourself.

 As soon as we were in, we looked down on the museum.  The big truck that takes up the left-hand side of this picture isn't real, since the weight and girth of an actual Decatur-built example could pose some structural issues for the building.
These 340-ton behemoths are 25 feet tall, cost about $5 million, depending on options, and redefine the term “monster” truck. They are so big, in fact, that few of the 4,000-strong Decatur work force has ever seen one fully assembled. More than 30 feet wide and too large to be driven on any road, they are shipped in sections to the mine sites where they work. It then takes a team of 20 skilled mechanics and fabricators working 24 hours a day for 11 days to put it together.
 I think Cliff and I both look silly in this picture, but this shows you how huge the tires really are. 

What a truck!

This explains how "Best" became "Caterpillar".

I enjoyed the story of this cute little antique dozer.  All the old ones here are on loan, owned by a family in California.  To read the full story, click HERE.

There were several simulators allowing the big boys to experience what it's like to operate heavy equipment.  Cliff tried it for awhile, with a guide giving him a hand.


One lady in our group asked me, "So, do you really enjoy tractor shows and museums like this?"

Indeed I do.  First of all, it's a road trip.  But I like any sort of museum with old things, and I'm interested in the stories behind them.  I love stories, always have; especially true ones.  I love the sense of history you feel, looking at things that were brand new before my parents were born.  It's part of America!

More tomorrow, from the Peoria Riverfront Museum.

A quick entry about the stats of this blog

I've been blogging since 2006.  If I don't do an entry for a few days, the number of people reading my nonsense drops very low, although google brings occasional visitors every day.  If you go to Google search and type in "just me donna", my blog is at or near the top of the sites listed.  

Before I get back to our trip to Peoria, I thought I'd share my most popular blog entries over the years.  

The most-visited page is one that always gets attention this time of year, when Mother Nature shows us she's truly bi-polar:  Freezing temperatures and tulips, with 5,516 visits.

The next most popular entry surprises me:  Full-moon insomnia, 3294 visits.

Apparently I'm not the only person who wondered what to do with my mother's old handkerchiefs, because this entry is third in popularity:  What do you do with old hankies, 2415 hits.  By the way, if you read the comments on that entry, you'll see someone gave me a solution, and I took advantage of her advice.

The above-mentioned entries aren't anything special to me, but obviously a lot of people go to Google looking for answers and end up, by pure chance, clicking on a link to this blog on a random entry.  The next two in line are blog entries I loved doing and am truly proud of, especially the second one.  

Number four in popularity is The Kinzenbaw Tractor collection, created in 2014 after our visit to see one of the largest tractor collections you'll ever see.  It's recently zoomed in popularity.  I've searched to see if somebody posted the link someplace else on the Internet, but all I see is that Google brought them to my blog.  There have been 2242 visitors to that entry since it was posted.  I'm proud of this entry because someone chose to post the link on the Kinze Manufacturing company website.  So Mr. Kinzenbaw has undoubtedly read it and approves. 

This next entry is one segment of a group of stories I posted, but did not create.  A former neighbor who grew up next door to us brought me a story her uncle wrote several years ago about his life.  I asked permission to share the story in segments on my blog, and those entries will always be near and dear to my heart.  All I did was type his words, once in awhile changing a word or two to clarify a point.  I had to choose a few things to leave out, things that would have been of interest to his relatives but perhaps not to all my readers.  One Man's Story of Growing Up in the Waterloo Bottoms, read 1,555 times. 

Notice I made the titles clickable links, so if you want to click and go to those entries, you can.  

This is the chart that tells me my all-time stats since 2006.  I can also check to see how many people visited which entry in the last 24 hours, or last week or last month.  I used to have a stat-meter on the blog that even showed me the location of my visitors, but one time I decided to do some different things to my blog.  I did something wrong, and stat-meter won't work any more.  I'm no computer guru.  Since then I've left things alone, afraid I'd click the wrong thing and lose my whole blog!  

If any of my readers would like to write a story similar to that last one that I'm so proud of, I'd be glad to share your story with my readers at some point.  If you didn't want your name with it, I'd omit it.  If I don't think it is of great interest to my various readers, I will tell you.  I'm just throwing the suggestion out there, because Jim's story was loved by one and all.  My mother's story was the same sort of thing, and very well loved by the readers of this blog.

And now I must get back to the story of our bus trip and the things we did in Peoria.  I may have it done today, or it may post tomorrow.

I will leave you with a picture of me, Cliff, and Amara, our newest great-grandchild.  We got to meet her yesterday!  She came three weeks early and seems very tiny compared to the other babies in our family.

Saturday, April 07, 2018

Traveling on a bus

In the previous entry I mentioned there isn't a lot of leg room on a bus.  On this particular trip, though, there were only 29 passengers, about half the full capacity of the bus.  So several of us chose to have an entire two-person seat to ourselves, which allows a little "wiggle-and-stretch room" for the legs.  I sat in the seat behind Cliff, who spent most of the way to our destination reading a book I highly recommended to him:  "The Good Daughter" by Karin Slaughter.  So time passed quickly for him.  I enjoyed listening to scattered conversations among the other folks, and also spent some time on Facebook (there's a shocker, right?).  We hadn't gotten too far on our journey when I got a private message from my daughter saying my granddaughter had eclampsia, and the doctors decided to induce labor for the benefit of mother and daughter.  

Isn't it strange how time can pass so quickly when going to a destination, but so slowly when you're heading home?  

Now let me tell you about an age-related problem that is sometimes an issue:  there are days my bladder refuses to hold more than half-an-ounce.  Thank goodness there's a toilet in the back of the bus, because I'd either have had an accident, or else the bus would have had to stop especially for me, which wouldn't have won me a lot of friends.  Have you ever tried to walk down the aisle of a bus going 80 miles per hour?  I managed it by holding onto the backs of seats as I made my way back.  Oh, and have you ever actually tried to USE one of those tiny rest rooms, all the time swaying too and fro, back and forth?  I'm just thankful there wasn't enough room to fall down while standing, or to fall off the pot while seated.  

Cliff and I each had a piece of toast before we left home, knowing we wouldn't be eating breakfast until about 9.  We ate at a truck stop in Kingdom City.  I could tell by looking the food wasn't great, but the salad bar was already there, so I chose a salad.  Cliff confirmed my suspicions about the quality of the food.  I'm not complaining:  Joyce, the club secretary, plans these trips with some input, I believe, from the driver.  Sometimes, in order for the timing of the whole trip to work, you take what you can get.  The rest of our meals during this adventure were wonderful.  

Here's a thing about traveling with mature ladies of a certain age:  All the women love to bake, and they love to see people eating their food.  So from time to time, cookies, banana bread, and other goodies are passed around.  There was also leftover Easter candy, snack crackers, and other such delights in abundance.  Trust me, nobody is going to starve on these trips!  I snack very little on the way to our destinations.  Going home, it's a different story.  

I'll close this with a picture of my new great-granddaughter, Amara.


Friday, April 06, 2018

Senior Citizens on bus trips

We are home from our two-day getaway.  Gabe is home from his three-day getaway, which cost $60.  Sort of expensive, I guess, but how much is peace-of-mind worth?  I wasn't worried about my dog while I was gone.  He was very happy to see us both.  Then when he saw I was going to give him a bath after we got him home, he suddenly became Cliff's dog and refused to come to me.  Traitor!

For the last four years, we've gone on an annual bus trip with some of our tractor club members, usually to Iowa or Kansas, and this time to Peoria, Illinois.  Many of our club members don't like to be away for an extended length of time; I'm amazed at all the places of interest our club secretary, Joyce, has found within six hours of home.  I salute anyone, including myself, who is past the age of 70 and goes traveling on a bus.  There isn't a lot of leg room.  If you watch our group getting off the bus, you'll see many people limping, grunting, and groaning.  Some carry canes.  Some, once we arrive at a place of interest we're going to tour, ask for a wheel chair.  I'm not the only one who has to sit down and rest my knees often.  You won't hear a lot of complaining from anybody, though.  What's the use, when most everybody else has the same aches and pains as you?  We have lots of laughs.  

Our bus driver, a 75-year-old divorced fellow, drives 80 MPH most of the time on the freeway; we've had him before, and probably will again.  I swear, I think he could drive that bus through the eye of a needle!  He went through rather small, cramped round-abouts with no problems and backed the bus up like a pro.  Our club president, Bill, asked him how he learned to drive a bus, since he only started doing this late in life.  He answered that he'd had a big RV for many years, so a bus was nothing new for him.  He wasn't interested in our museums, so after he let us off to check out the Caterpillar Visitor Center, he headed over to do some gambling at the casino in Peoria, and went back again the next day.  He ate meals with us, though (one of the perks of being our bus driver) and stayed at the same motel.    

I'm always ready for a road trip, and I'm usually the one who has to talk Cliff into going on these things.  We get to eat out and stay in motels and go to museums:  What's not to like?  

We ate breakfast while we were still in Missouri, then went right to our first point of interest, the Caterpillar Visitor Center.  This is actually the back of the place:  The museum is on the riverfront, so it's really facing the river.  

If you arrived in a car, you'd have to go around on the river side to park.  You'd be greeted by a huge statue of Abe Lincoln with his arm around Perry Como, which for some reason cracks me up.  Since it was a cold day I had no desire to walk clear down below, so I only got a picture from the rear.

 Here's a picture I stole from the Internet that may be subject to copyright, but if somebody complains, I'll remove it.  I've had to do that a couple of times before.
You can read more about the statue HERE.  It's only been there since September, 2017.

I'm have to tell you I don't have my mind too much on blogging:  Cliff got good news about his PSA test, which sort of rattled me even though it's good news... and I have a granddaughter in labor, so there should soon be another great-granddaughter around, one that lives REALLY CLOSE and might need a babysitter sometimes.  We've had recent experience with babysitting, right?

I hope to do another entry about our trip tomorrow.  

Monday, April 02, 2018


I imagine a lot of my readers have some form of Alexa or "hello Google" in your home, although I'm sure some of you have issues with privacy that won't allow you to have such devices.  Folks, if you are using the Internet... especially Facebook or other social networking... you're already hosed.  But that's your problem.

We use Alexa a lot.  I've been known to argue with her and call her names, as though she's a real person.  In fact, you'll hear her stump me in this video, which causes me to whine at her.  I decided rather than list the ways we use her in this house, I'd make a video to demonstrate how handy she is.  Keep in mind I'm reading from a list I made in one hand and holding the iPad in the other, which is about as much multi-tasking as I care to do.  Hey, it was difficult!   By the way, I intended to make the title on the video "talking to Alexa", but I left out a letter.  It's OK; just goes to show you what a terrible proofreader I am, although those who read my blog already knew that.