“Society grows great when old men plant trees whose shade they know they shall never sit in.” ~Anonymous, Greek proverb I read that Greek proverb this morning on Facebook. It reminded me of the Daddy when he planted peach, pear, apple, persimmon, cherry and fig saplings around the backyard of his and Mama's house. "These trees are for the grandchildren," he said. I recall thinking how lucky those kids would be to climb the trees. The Mama moved before the Only and Older Brothers' kids were old enough to try them out. I like to think that other kids did. The proverb also had me thinking of the Mama and her wonder of planting the apricot and avocado seeds from the fruit that we've harvested from her trees. This year two of the second generation apricot trees bore fruit. I have no doubt that all the other apricot and avocado trees will do the same one day. It'll be one crazy fruit forest out in the backyard when the trees grow up. I love that my par

"Oh, frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!" We slewed a Jabberwocky, my friends. We did!  Hooray, Hooray! We being the Mama, the Husband, and me. Today's Jabberwocky being the Mama's annual Christmas shopping trip to J.C. Penny's. Once upon a time, the Mama walked back and forth across the mall. Today, it's an effort to make it through one department store. We all wondered if she could even make the walk from the sidewalk to the door. She does not believe in canes, walkers, nor wheelchairs. On wobbly legs, the Mama plodded slowly through the crowded aisles. I was her eyes looking at sizes, prices, and colors. The Husband scouted out the store: What are the other departments on this floor? Where are the cash registers? Where is glassware? Which is closer, the elevator or escalator? The Mama sat often. On boxes, on shelves, and on chairs. The Husband stood guard and kept her company while I sought items to bring back for her to check from the comfort of her seat.

Just before we turned off the lights last night, the Husband and I were talking about something that reminded of something else that I thought would be fun to write about today. I always like when that happens. This morning, I woke up thinking about what I wanted to write. But, I couldn't recall. The Husband couldn't remember either. I figure the thought would pop up by lunchtime. It didn't happen. Nor, did the thought reveal itself after lunch. Still, I wrote about something. Ha! See you tomorrow.

When you have much to do. Yup. Time flies. Fly, fly, time. Within the next six hours, I plan to do this: Finish the Husband's tunic. All I need to do is attach the sleeves and sides, then hem it up. Make an appetizer.  The Husband and I are going to a party tonight. Fun. Maybe I'll make cheesy olive balls. They're easy to make, but that means going to the store for olives and cheddar cheese. Put together a photo collage.  It's for a luncheon fundraiser tomorrow. I could probably do that after the party, if I print the photos beforehand. Yeah, that's the ticket. Get this post done.  I threw this in so I can feel like I'll have accomplished something once its published.  Always look for the positive, I say. Thank goodness, I finished reading my novel last night, otherwise I'd forget about doing these things I plan to do. Enchanted  August by Brenda Bowen.  Just like the title, the story was enchanting. I could go for either a cup of coffee o

This morning, I put on my orange tee-shirt, grey yoga pants, mismatched socks, orange Converse shoes, and red fingerless gloves, which I topped with my old don't-mess-with-me (in my mind) orange jacket. Tilda-Hilda was happy to see me again. Today made two days in a row for Tilda-Hilda and me. Twenty-minute rides, more or less. I puffed and gasped as I went up slopes and whoo-hoo 'd with glee as I coasted down them. My knee twinged a couple of times, but not enough for me to turn back home. And, when I pedaled across an open field, I recalled again what I like about riding bicycles and was ready to take on another hill. I haven't pedaled Tidla-Hilda since the beginning of the year. A friend asked me why not? Simple. I got lazy, which meant I lost all my muscle tone and gained back nearly all the weight I lost. Five months of laziness is enough. Tomorrow morning Tilda-Hilda and I will go out for a bit longer of a ride. Slowly and surely, we'll get back to taking t

Sometimes Molly the Cat and I like to wander in the Mama's garden (which is the whole back yard) first thing in the morning. Molly does her sniffing-the-ground rounds, while I take photos of the sights. There are always new things to see, such as "Wow, look how well the Asian pears are growing." This morning, Molly said, "Why don't you keep tabs on the progress with pictures?" Well, she looked at me as I was thinking it. And, you know how cats have a way of transferring their thoughts to our minds. I agreed with Molly. So, over the next few months, I shall take photos of these spots in the Mama's garden. Vegetable boxes Vegetable boxes (another angle) Apple Tree

I must face it. I've gotten my body out of sorts. Again. I've gained back nearly all the weight I lost last year.  It took one year for me to lose 13 pounds and four months to gain 11 pounds. Sigh and Grrr. I'm not going to cry about it. Nor whine. Nor make excuses for myself. I know what I did. Since Christmas, I've been eating desserts nearly every day, drinking beer about once a week, and not pedaling Tilda-Hilda up a hill six days a week. Pure and simple. I admit it. I overindulged and got lazy. I did it to myself. Again. This morning, I started paying attention to the wise woman inside me when we dropped the Husband's computer at the repair shop. The first thing I saw when I got out of the car was the doughnut shop two doors away. Just like Homer Simpson, my first reaction was to drool and say "Doughnuts, me want." I did not go over to the doughnut shop. As we were leaving the computer repair shop, about 20 minutes later, I thought, "Dou

I'm one of those people who has good intentions of doing things. I'm also one of those people who needs to make a To-Do list to keep her focused on performing the tasks. Some times I even complete every item on the list. That said, here are the things I want to accomplish in January. Put photos back into the Mama's albums.  Now, this item I ought to be able to finish in a flash. Make cafe curtains for the kitchen window. A few years ago, I made easy-peasy yellow curtains that are not the easiest to scoot along the rod. I did not put the centerpiece for holding up the rod in the precise center, which bugs a certain precise person, who shall be nameless, and possibly the other precise person, who shall also be nameless, in this household. Make a bird feeder. The screw mechanism for the cover of the feeder failed sometime last year. But, because the birds can still balance and eat on the feeder, I've ignored replacing it. Recently, the birds have taken to poop

I forgot to buy a 2015 calendar for the Mama. I had planned to make her one again, but I thought about it too late to have it be delivered by the new year. I figured I'd print out the dates and attach the page to last year's calendar. On Sunday, I did that. The Mama thought it was a new calendar.  Hmmmmm.

Will the cricket be background music to words anytime soon? Stay tuned, dear readers.

Whooooooooooooooooo-hooooooooooooooooo!  Awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwessommmmmmmmmmme! Awesome, awesome, awwwwwwwwwesomme! Everyone in the valley below should have heard me as I coasted down the hill this morning. Whooooo-hoooooo! Once a week for the past four weeks, I have been pedaling up Cienega Road, going further each time. I have yet to make it to the very top, but after today, I know that one day I shall. I managed to pedal about three-quarters up what I thought was the first incline, only to look up and see it was one long continuous incline. When it got too steep, I got off Tilda-Hilda (I think she may be partial to Tildy-Hildy) and walked her up to my first goalpost. Once there, I decided to walk a little further. Why not? I thought, I'm here. When it no longer seemed steep that I would fall trying to engage the pedals, I hopped on the pink cruiser and pedaled up the hill for a couple more yards. But, instead of turning around, I chose to walk Tilda-Hilda a few more yards

I was in my late 20s when I first noticed that there would always be one older couple dancing their hearts out to a band playing in the middle of a mall or a hotel, or at a street fair or a farmers market. The couple would waltz, do the box step, cha-cha-cha, boogie-woogie, or just freestyle to the music. The couple would be so full of joy that others would watch with big grins and smiles on their faces. A few people would even clap in appreciation. And, yes, there would be the few boors who would point at the older couple, laugh and make fun of them. But, then that's what boors do. Well, here's the good news. Turns out the Husband and I have become one of those effervescent older couples. Sam Farr 30-Day Challenge I'm done! Yesterday was the last day. Whoo-hooo! I followed the rules as well as can be. I ate no foods made of flours or had more than 20 grams of sugar per serving. For 29 out of the 30 days, I ate no food nor drank alcohol after 7:30 PM. I wor

Tomorrow starts the 30-Day Sam Farr Challenge for me. Sam Farr is my representative  in the U.S. House of Representatives and last week he decided to take health educator Mary Toscano's invitation to a 30-day healthy lifestyle challenge. In so doing, he invited his constituents to join him. In a nutshell, from tomorrow, July 12, until August 12, I will follow these three rules: No food or alcohol after 7:30 PM. No foods with flour (including gluten-free flours) or more than 20 grams of sugars (per serving). Complete 1 hour of exercise of 10,000 steps daily. I feel confident that I can handle rules #1 and #3 quite easily. Thirty days without pasta, bread, cereal, ice cream, cookies, and pie? That will be the toughie for me. It's the primary reason I decided to take the challenge. I've slipped back into the habit of eating desserts, rolls, pasta, and such, knowing full well that they aren't good for my eczema, estrogen dominance, and right-at-the-border diabe

The other day the Husband pushed my pink beach cruiser along the highway while I walked slowly behind him. Is that a sweetheart or what? I'd ridden nearly 8 miles when I heard POW! My rear wheel shook like something got caught in the spokes. A few minutes later, the bicycle was not going as fast as my feet were pedaling it. Hello, Flat Tire. Grrrr . Thank goodness, I had the camera to distract myself as I pushed the bicycle beside me. Want to see the photos that I took of cows & horses , grass , palm trees , and yellow barn ? And, I had the cell phone. Pshew. It was days like that I was glad I paid attention to the Husband when he asked, "Do you have the phone?" It took a couple of tries before I got hold of the Husband to tell him what happened so he and the Mama wouldn't worry. "Would you like me to come and walk with you?" he asked. "You don't have to," I said, "But, that would be nice." About 40 minutes later,

The first, okay, maybe it was the fourth, thing I did this morning before breakfast was write that To Do list. I did finish the mystery I've been reading at breakfast. I diligently stuck with the story although I didn't care for the protagonist who was too much of an insecure whiner. But once I learned who the suspect was, I skimmed through the final scenes. I closed the book and purposely went to complete something else. For about the next two hours, I topped off the Mama's outdoor potted plants with potting soil. It was something I had been thinking about doing for the last two summers. The other week, while the Mama was watering her plants, she mentioned that they needed more soil. "Uh-huh," I said, glancing at them and thinking I need to do that before she got to it. Fortunately, for me, a few days ago, the Husband and I bought three huge bags of potting soil. The Mama requested one, but I bought two extra bags. Not because I was going to add soil to

The other week, the Husband and I decided on a five year plan. First five year plan we've ever made about anything, too. The best part about it: We're already in year three. (By the way, did I use that colon punctuation properly?) What is this five year plan? And, how is that related to the photos of our hair? I'm glad you asked. This tale starts in 2010 when the Husband and I decided to go bald. The Husband also chose to shave off his mustache and beard. You can read that story here , if you're interested. In 2011, we shaved off our hair again. In 2012, we wondered how long our hair would get after two years. When 2013 came along, we got used to our messy look and thought about trimming it all once the temperatures got very hot. They never did. So, here we are again at our anniversary of shorn locks. The last time my hair has been this long was in my youth, albeit (oooh, love that transitional word) my hair back then was much, much thicker. The Husband says t

When I was a youth—did I really write that?—the battle cry was Seize the Day! Today it's more like, uh, seize the moment . In just a snap of a moment, I might finally do a load of laundry. . . vacuum the living room. . . make that darn appointment with the doctor. . . re-order supplements. . . read a chapter. . . prune the lemon tree. . . sew the Christmas gift for the Husband. . .  draft the working outline for a book idea. . . or. . . . You could say I procrastinate. A lot.  At least, I make no excuses. Walden Pond taught me that. So, did the Daddy. I realize and accept the consequences for every action that I do. Or don't. Though I wonder if that is an excuse in itself. I'm participating in the Blogging from A to Z Challenge this month. To check out other participants, click here . See you tomorrow.   

Free! That's how I feel when I pedal my clunky bright pink bicycle. Being short, I've got a lot of power in my stubby legs, so says the tall Husband, who sometimes huffs and puffs after me. "That's okay," I tell him. "I can't keep up with you when we walk. Since December 31, 2013, I've pedaled nearly 320 miles on my pretty cruiser.  I'm rather proud about that. Several days a week, I take off before breakfast and pedal up and down and through the flat and hilly neighborhoods or trace a perimeter around town. Because I'm alone, I generally follow the streets and roads. Now and then I forge quickly across a field or ford the dry riverbed. The Mama is almost used to me going out on my own early in the morning. Just when I think it's not a big deal for her that I'm out roaming alone, she'll say something like, "Do you go far away?" "What takes you so long?" or "Aren't you afraid to ride by yourse

Okay. So, I changed the name of the blog, from Don't Be a Hippie...Then and Now to The View from the Top of the Ladder . Will a new name get me to write regularly, or just write? We shall see, dear Readers. I haven't written in a long time. Anything. No, that's false. Occasionally, I write short articles for moolah, and  I post at Take 25 to Hollister , with the goal of doing it everyday for a year. But, until this moment, I haven't said anything about my intent there. I just post. I'll know on January 7, 2015, if I have accomplished my goal. A second time. This is the fourth blog title change for me. The last three times, I started a new physical blog. This time, I realized whatever for. My writing voice hasn't change. Neither have the topics that I  write about because there is nothing new under the sun, including my "writer's block" that has been going on  for more than several months. Possibly years. Some would say that I don't ha

I have a blue notebook that's entitled Efficiency Notebook . It was something I found in one the Father-in-Law's boxes labeled Office . The notebook's cover states that inside are 80 medium ruled and margin line sheets. After the Husband and I tore out the pages with the Father-in-Law's notes, fewer than 40 blank pages were left. Why didn't we just throw out the notebook? I don't know anymore. Maybe the kuripot in me wouldn't let it go. Kuripot , for those curious, means cheap, thrifty, penny-pinching, or frugal in Ilocano. Some people characterize the Ilocanos, which is my ancestry, as being kuripot . But, then I could just be individually that way. When I hold my palm up, fingers naturally resting against each other, I can't see any light between the fingers. That, according to the Mama, means I'm pretty good about not spending a lot of money. Yes, that's the reason I think insurance of any kind is a scam. Anyway, the Efficiency Notebook