In my mind, I'm five years old having a high old time wandering and wondering. In reality, I'm now approaching my late 60s, wowza! I tell you a lot of creativity is still to be found in this old young self. In you, too, whatever your age. Welcome to my barefoot world!
That tall tree next to the side fence is an avocado tree. It started from a seed the Mama planted. Until last year, it was hidden by a red shed, which has me now thinking that Mama planted the seed after the shed was built in 1989, thereabouts. That makes the tree about 29 years old. Yesterday morning a branch grazed the top of my head, so I got the pruning shears to trim it as it would get in the Husband's way. Lo and behold! I saw an avocado, the size of my tiny finger, hanging from beneath leaves on that low branch. I looked and looked. Yup, avocados. A whole lot of tiny avocados growing! This is the first time that avocado tree is bearing fruit. Wowza! Although Mama is physically gone, the Spirit of Mama continues to whisper to her plants. Perspective: The avocado is the size of my tiny finger.
The other day someone asked me what do I do now that I don't spend 24/7 on the computer writing and doing research. A whole lot of nothing was my answer. The better answer, I realize today, is a whole lot of experimenting with stuff, such as plants, crafts, sewing, baking, drawing, writing, reading, and whatever comes my way. So, today, I show off last night's results of my experimenting with the markers I purchased on a whim earlier this month. Lucky for me there happened to be a box of crayons nearby so I didn't have to get off the couch.
My theme for #23 Round of ABC Wednesday: Signs & Such of San Benito County, California In my hometown of Hollister, downtown parking is free for three hours, between 8:00 a.m. and 5:00 p.m., Monday through Saturday. It used to be two hours, but some people complained they couldn't get their business done within that time, and, no way were they going to park in the city garage where it's free all the time. That's too far of a hike. Downtown Hollister is five blocks long. We are spoiled. To check out ABC Wednesday , click here . For this week's participants, click here for the list of participants. Thank you, ABCW Team!
I now own a mini glue gun! And a whole lot of glue sticks. Whoooo-hoooo! I've never had a glue gun before. In fact, I have never used one. Heee-heee. This morning, The Husband and I went to the new hardware store in the town next door to buy a solution for buffing up brass things. The store had nothing on hand. Being a small shop in a small town, I expected not to find anything appropriate. I also didn't expect to purchase a mini glue gun. It was $5.49. Cheap, I thought. Please don't tell me otherwise. The Husband asked me, "What are you going to use it for?" Chissa? Who knows? Maybe I'll glue cows to the ground. Just kidding. Vedremo. We shall see. I'm connecting with Our World Tuesday . Here's the link . Thank you, OWT administrators. Ciao.
Yesterday evening Hero Man told Missus Lady where my newest favorite spot is in the backyard. Miao. "The apple tree on the north end?" Missus Lady asked, playing on her computer. "Yeah. She stares at something in the tree. It's like she's waiting for something. Maybe she saw a baby bird fall out of the tree." "Apples are always falling. She can get bonkered!" Miao. Bonkered. I never thought of that. Miao. Hero Man chuckled. "Maybe that's how cats get high. They get hit in the head, they're suddenly stoned." "And, seeing stars!" Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha. Miao. That's not funny. "We're not laughing at you, Molly," said Hero Man. "We love you." Silly humans. I love them anyway. Purrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.
The Husband and I cannot recall the last time Eliza Doalot had her last bath. Pouring rain last winter didn't clean her. As of yesterday, Eliza is clean. Inside, too. Ha! As we were vacuuming and dusting the insides, I thought how Mama would've shown great pleasure to see Eliza sparkle sparkle on the driveway. Mama was always after us to wash the car. Our excuse for not washing the car was "It's a drought. We don't want to waste the water." Yesterday was Mama's birthday . A shiny Eliza Doalot was the perfect birthday present to honor the memory of Mama. Sunday means All Seasons , a weekly meme hosted by Jesh of The Jesh Studio , which is where I'm heading to share my post. Click here to check out Jesh. For the participants list, click here . Thanks, Jesh!
Today, Mama would've been 97 years old, three years shy from the 100 that she often told people she was. If I happened to be around, they would ask me, "Is that true? Is she really 100." "Is that what she said?" I'd reply. "Yes." Mama was probably in her mid-80s when people started wanting to know about her age. At first, I'd laugh, and say something like "She's pulling your leg." Only if they asked would I say how old Mama truly was. When Mama was in her 90s, I would simply reply, "That's what she said." Whatever I replied, they'd respond, "She's strong for her age." Or, "She looks good for her age." Of course. She spent nearly every day of her 29 years of retirement working in her yard, making it pretty with succulents, flowers, vegetables, and fruit trees. What better way for me to celebrate Mama's birthday than to take cuttings of her red geraniums and
Where oh where did my fabric go? Where oh where did it go? I've been looking for the pieces of rayon fabric for my tunic, the cotton remnants for L Studio's curtains, and the blue hue bunch of fat quarters and scrap. Well, I've been talking about looking. That's not true. I did look through the boxes and containers of fabric in the NW corner of L Studio on Monday. Since then, I've been letting my brain consider where these missing materials might be. Regardless of the misplaced fabric, I have been busy on the sewing machine. In my search, I found worn-out tee-shirts of ours and skirts I bought at a thrift shop that I put aside years ago to repurpose into something useful. So, there you go. Up in that photo, Husband is modeling our four new tee-shirt shopping bags and in the photo below, another new shopping bag made from a skirt. Hot cha-cha.
This morning I read in the AARP Magazine that glaring lights and difficulty driving at night are signs of developing cataracts. Ha! Night driving started becoming a frightful thing for me over five years ago. Earlier this year I asked my primary doctor why he thought a sparkle-sparkle sometimes appeared inside my eye and only disappeared once it grew to the size of my eyeball. "Don't know," the old doc said, and sent me to an ophthalmologist whose appointment book was full for nearly two months. The young doc had no clue either, but she did discover cataracts in both my eyes, bad enough that my insurance would cover surgery. Yay! Also, Boooo! I chose to get new prescription glasses, stubbornly thinking that all the deep scratches in my eight-year-old glasses were the problem. Ha, ha, I don't know better than the experts. Some where down the line I'll need to decide what to do first: Knee or lens? I can alternate, knee, lens, knee, lens or lens, knee, lens
My theme for #23 Round of ABC Wednesday: Signs & Such of San Benito County, California The Masonic Lodge of San Benito County was established 147 years ago ago, three years before San Benito became a separate county from Monterey County. Its home is the familiar brick building with the infamous clock tower at the corner of San Benito and Fourth Streets. The Masonic symbol of a G in the middle of a square and compass is on the outside wall above the lodge's entrance. The G stands for Great Architect of the Universe, as well as for Geometry. If you're interested in learning more, check out this page at the Masonic Lodge of Education web site. To check out ABC Wednesday , click here . For this week's participants, click here for the list of participants. Thank you, ABCW Team!
There ought to be a song about that combination—buttons and tobacco tins, la la la lah. Remember the song "Buttons and Bows"? I think Dick Dale on Lawrence Welk sang that song, while dressed in cowboy clothes or dapper 1890s suit. Or, was that Larry Hooper? The Lennon Sisters in prairie dresses and bonnets? Yup, I watched Lawrence Welk when I was a kid, developing what I thought was sarcasm and wit. Watching it with The Daddy was a treat. I never tired listening to his assessment on the tenor Joe Feeney after he trilled "Danny Boy" or another break-your-heart song, holding the last note to kingdom come and back. When Feeney was done, The Daddy remarked, "He earned his two-bits." I never knew if The Daddy liked Feeney's singing. Should I meet up with The Daddy in the after life, that's one question I shall ask of him. The tobacco tins in the photo belonged to The Daddy, which meant Older & Only Bro and I bought The Daddy a new pipe for
Someone once asked my humans, "Where does Molly sleep?" "Wherever she wants." So true. Purrrrrrrrrr. During the day, they let me wander in the backyard. I sleep all over the yard. One of my favorite spots is beneath the avocado tree shielded by the butterfly bush. The only times they won't let me sleep out there is when it's raining, it's too cold, or it's too hot. And, when they go away. I don't really have a best sleeping spot indoors. I like to circulate to keep Hero Man and Missus Lady on their toes. Missus Lady is really good at finding and cleaning my throw-ups almost right away. My humans don't make me feel bad when it happens. They tell me it happens to the best of us. They also say that they would love it if I would do it on the tiles in the hallway. Sometimes I can oblige. Last night, I slept with my humans, next to Missus Lady's feet. That's the safest place to be. She doesn't turn much. I like t
Can you find Molly the Cat? This morning's experiment: Along with my camera, keep a pen and notebook ready at all times while I deadhead daisies in the front yard. I wanted to see if it's possible for me to re-establish an old habit of carrying a journal. So, what did this old lady note this morning? Here were a few thoughts that got me to put down the scissors and write. The driveway looks cleaner than the hood of the car. The Mama would say I was stingy with the water. Proof—all the dried branches on the daisy. Must remember to clean the hairball Molly barfed early this morning on The Husband's favorite spot on the couch. The faint breeze from fog rolling back west, ahhhh. Two hummingbirds. Ruby throated guy shows Anna's hummingbird guy the sea of red flowers very near me. Don't mind that human. So, how did I like having pen and notebook on hand? The greatest advantage, of course, is recording my thoughts rather than forgetting them. The
Temperatures are climbing again. The weather dudes say it'll be in the high 90s our way today. As long as there's a breeze, it'll be fine. If not, well, we'll be fine. The Husband, Molly the Cat, and I, that is. I can't speak for anyone else. Molly Girl and I were out early this morning watering the newly planted flowers. They were only a few so I chose to use the watering can. Only six trips to the faucet, which was far enough away for me to work up a sweat. The exercise also made my knees pop. I like to think that they popped back into place. Dream on. Sometimes as I trudge about the yard spot watering, I'm reminded of The Mama telling me how her brothers used to carry buckets of water to the field to individually water the plants. I imagined her world of long ago being very hot and dry, and water being very precious. Not so different today, is it? Several days ago when it was cooler, I stuck two new daisy plants into the ground. The one in the photo
This is Silver. Aren't his blue eyes amazingly blue? Old Silver lives on good friends Missus and Mister H's ranch. He's a Persian mix, methinks. He rules the cat roost on the ranch. Molly Girl doesn't know a thing about him. I think she prefers to not know about any cats that The Husband and I know. "Miao, miaooo! That's right!" exclaims Molly from down the hall.
My theme for #23 Round of ABC Wednesday: Signs & Such of San Benito County, California About two months ago, The Husband and I came across this bulletin board at the old courthouse, currently home to various county offices. To check out ABC Wednesday , click here . For this week's participants, click here for the list of participants. Thank you, ABCW Team!
"You got something official from Medicare," said The Husband, going through the mail the other day. "Be sure you open it up and read it." "Yeah, yeah." "You tear up envelopes without looking inside. This may be important," he cautioned. "I'm putting it on the table." "Uh-huh." Yesterday, the letter caught my eye. It did look very official, so I ripped the envelope open rather than in half. "It's my Medicare card!" The Husband patted my shoulder. Wowza! Medicare won't kick in for another three months. It is nice to know the organization has its ducks in the row. Now, I need to get mine in a row and choose the best Medicare plan for me. Thank you, President Lyndon B. Johnson!
Miao. On Sunday, after a whole week of traipsing about every day, my humans lazed about the house. They also did a bit of puttering. Over breakfast, I overheard my humans agreeing that Hero Man will put in new light bulbs in the kitchen. They've been using the kitchen stove light and a flickering light above the sink for several nights. Late afternoon, Missus Lady thumped down the stairs from the office to fix lunper (lunch + supper). After she stuck the chicken into the toaster oven, she opened the hallway closet and pulled out bags and packages of all sorts of light bulbs. For weeks, Hero Man said to Missus Lady, "We need light bulbs." She answered, "We have a lot in the closet." Said he, "I looked." Said she, "They're there." Hero Man was surprised to see all the light bulbs in the hallway. "Where were they?" Missus Lady replied, "In the bookcase in the closet." Said he, "All I found was the bag with the l
Once I publish this post, I'm heading into L Studio to prep the place for sewing this week. That means I need to clear stuff off surfaces so I can strew fabrics and sewing stuff on them. My sewing objectives: Make curtains for our bedroom and upstairs hallway windows as well as a tunic for me. My intent for today's post was to share more countryside photos, but, then I got enamored with playing with the above photo in Photoshop. That's the original shot of walnut trees. Below are two renditions of the photo with Photoshop filters. Which do you prefer? By the way, for those who wondered, The Husband and I took BART to Oakland on Friday. Sunday means All Seasons , a weekly meme hosted by Jesh at Artworks from Jesh St.G , which is where I'm heading to share my post. Click here to check out Jesh. For the participants list, click here . Thanks, Jesh!
The Daddy and The Mama raised chickens in our backyard, as well as a cow, several goats, a couple of pigs, and a whole bunch of pigeons. All for food. We lived in a house on a decent size lot with a big field behind us, about two miles outside of city limits, so they could. The neighbors on either side of us didn't complain. Not that I knew of. During the summer, my job was to feed the chickens, which lived in a structure with two small rooms that The Daddy built. There was enough for the chickens to roam free. And wild, so I thought. When I opened the door, it seemed like they were waiting to attack me. Cackle, cackle, cackle. Flutter, flutter of wings. Bwak, bwak, bwak . It freaked me out. I imagined them pecking me to death. My method of feeding them was to throw a handful of feed into a far away corner, step in, quickly fill their trough with feed, and get out the door as fast as possible. Shudder. The other evening we were over at the ranch of our good friends Missus and
I suspect that I may not ever have been spontaneous. I've done the all-of-a-sudden turn onto an unfamiliar road to see what's there and where it takes me. I've walked into a salon on a whim and got my hair cut or permed. I've suddenly decided to go somewhere, generally never far. But never ever have I been truly spontaneous. Don't ask me what that is? I don't know because I haven't done it. When I was a teenager I thought about running away. Mainly, I contemplated what to stuff into my knapsack. Should I bring a change of clothing? Change of underwear at least. My notebook, of course. Should I bring a pencil and a pen? Two pens, maybe several. Food to get me to my next destination. Money, which would probably be $20, if even that. Do I want by guitar? What I never thought about was where to go. I didn't want to run away, did I? Today, the Husband and I are in Oakland hanging out with his college buddies. (Yesterday was when I wrote this.) Will we h
What's a handshake? What kind of unsaid agreement is made when we shake hands with each other? Why do some men still find it odd to shake women's hands? And, is it just older men? Last Saturday, The Husband and I met up with good friends Missus and Mister H at the two-buck senior brunch hosted by the local hospital volunteer group. As the brunch was winding down, a bunch of handshaking was going on. At our table, the first person to shake hands with The Husband and Mister H was a city mayoral candidate. After he shook the guys' hands, I held mine up for a shake which startled him. He quickly hid it and shook my hand. I was surprised that he was momentarily stunned at the thought of shaking a woman's hand. After all, he has been working in the community for over 40 years, including being on boards with women. A few minutes after that T, whom The Husband and I are getting to know more each time we see him at community functions, said his good-byes. He shook hands
My theme for #23 Round of ABC Wednesday: Signs & Such of San Benito County, California Perhaps after drinking several beers, I may be enlightened to see window reflections with my eyes closed. But, I'll stick to sipping one glass. :-) To check out ABC Wednesday , click here . For this week's participants, click here for the list of participants. Thank you, ABCW Team!
I love the lighting magic that happens as the sun starts its downward path towards the horizon. I often ignore the experts' advice and click into the west just because I like how the light reflects on objects. My camera is a point-and-click. So, that I do, glad that I can crop, sharpen, highlight, fine tune the contrast, and so forth and so on with Photoshop. These photos were taken on Sunday afternoon at Good Friends Missus and Mister H's ranch, who invited us to a smoked turkey dinner. They raise free range organic turkeys. Missus H said it was time to consume the last frozen turkey from last year. The Husband and I were happy to help. Yummm. The above photo is of Mister H carving one of the turkey legs with a rather humming electric knife. Time for Our World Tuesday . Here's the link to check out participants from around the world, and maybe to join up yourself. Thanks, Our World Tuesday hosts!