Please tell me the story again, Charlie. So, he did. First, let me set up the story. The time: Fifth grade, the year President Kennedy was assassinated. The scene: Outside on a school blacktop. Lunch time is over. We, fifth graders, are dragging and carrying the green wooden lunch benches back to their rest place, about 30 feet or so. The quicker we finish, the more time we have to play before the bell rang. Said Charlie (I’m paraphrasing, of course): Usually a friend and me take one end of a bench, but this day I thought I could carry it alone. I did! All the way. No dropping, no stopping. I was happy, so proud of myself. I turned around to get another bench. What did I see? You, heading over with one bench under each arm. hahahahahah. Charlie first told me this story at our 10 year high school reunion. I love it! I have no memory of carrying two benches, moving benches, yes. I’ve no doubt that I could’ve carried one bench. I was strong for a girl, thanks to Daddy having no problem of

This week Sunday Stealing , hosted by Bev Sykes, has participants musing over questions taken from Upstream Life . 1. Name 5 people you admire and why. • Daddy. Family was important for him. He took his responsibilities seriously. He made sure his children got the opportunities for a good life. • Mama was resolute, stoical, full of love and cheeriness, but oh so sad. Also full of spirit, spit, and vinegar, Mama didn't let her misery keep her down. She had more than her share, including living through war and losing two children.  • The Husband. My gosh. I'm not an easy person to live with. • Winifred, my mentor, my writing partner, my friend. She took a chance on me (#6). Winifred was an amazing, gifted, and giving person who taught me how to develop and create educational materials that respect and teach the learners. • Kathy, a friend from grammar school days. I love her humor, her wit, her intelligence. For years, she went back and forth, several times a year to visit her pa

The White Rabbit said he was late. What was he late for? The tea party? Curious minds, such as mine, want to know. Oh my. The Husband is doubl y smart. Initially I wrote "Curious minds, such as me, want to know." That seemed off. Should it be "such as I"?  Still didn't sound right, thus I asked the Husband. Neither appealed to him either. Ever the good grammar student back in the schooldays, the Husband asked, "Is it an object or a subject? My eyes crossed. "Read it again," he said. "Curious minds, such as me, want to know." "Mine." "Mind," I repeated. "Mine." "Mine?" "It's curious minds that want to know." My eyes uncrossed. I'm giving an example of a curious mind. Awwww. The Husband is a genius. Alas, he didn't know either what the important date was the White Rabbit needed to make.   HOPPING BACK TO INITIAL THOUGHT I brought up the White Rabbit

I baked a lemon bundt cake this morning for my county fair entry, which I hope shall reach a mellow, not so loud, lemon tart flavor when the judges taste it this Wednesday afternoon. This cake has several firsts for me. It's the first time I've entered a cake in the fair, I tried a new recipe, and I experimented with the recipe twice (I wrote about the first attempt last month). I added a lot more lemon zest and a heaping measurement of sour cream to the recipe for more lemon flavor and less dryness. And, yes, I used a bundt pan this time. Thank goodness that the Husband hung out in the kitchen while I was working on the cake.  He looked up things on Google: How many tablespoons equal 1/4 cup? How do I make lemon syrup? When do I douse the cake with lemon syrup? Which end of the bundt cake do I display (the Husband had it right—the bundt ridges must show)? and  How do I store the cake if I'm not serving it right away? Sorry, no photo. The cake is nothing truly excit

"Talky. talky. talky. talky. talk. . ." That's the first line to "Happy Talk" from South Pacific . So the Husband and I thought. This afternoon we learned the first line goes like this: "Happy talk, keep talking happy talk. . ." Yup. We have sung "Taw-kee, taw-kee, taw-kee talky talk" for over 50 years individually, and 24 together. Not to say we listened to the song yesterday. Twice. The Husband says he's shattered that the lyrics aren't "talky, talk." Go ahead: giggle, snort, snicker, chuckle, belly laugh. We have. "Talky, talky . . ."   REDWOODS, WATERFALLS, and HISTORIC KILNS One of our day trips during the Husband's birthday week in June was an adventure with good friends Missus and Mister H to Limekiln State Park in Big Sur, along the California coast, about 50 or so miles south of Carmel. (Pshew, that was a long sentence.) The park was a first visit for us all. We picnicked and hiked

Hi'ya, dear friends! Big hugs to all. I thought I'd be back sooner on the blog, but you know how it goes with summer distractions. I'll write about more of them mañana. One distraction has been a local photography exhibition. A week or so before our party (the day after the Solstice), I got an email saying my three submissions were accepted and I would need to deliver them matted, framed, and ready to hang on what turned out to be the day after our party. All good, because that distracted me from getting too anxious about prepping for the party (including cleaning house and yard), as well as the party stuff sidetracked me from becoming nervous about preparing the photos for display. The photo above of an apple blossom is one that's on display in the exhibit. I took the picture in the backyard on a late Spring afternoon, then played around with Photoshop filters to get the final effect. Getting the photos ready for display took a village. A local business servic

"Joy, joy, joy." is one of the things that Cu'Pie, our once-upon-a-time dear yellow parakeet, liked to say. Frequently. A wonderful thing to say, I say. And, I wish much joy, joy, joy to you all! I first saw the above joyful sight of a hillside on Thanksgiving Day. It caught my breath in such a way that I made Eliza Does-alot do a wicked swerve onto the road to which I turned that nearly all of the fried lumpia fell from the back seat onto the floor. Fortunately, most fell onto folders and envelopes so none of Filipino eggrolls were tainted. Thank goodness. They were our contribution to a dinner. A couple of weeks later I took the above shot that I painted today with Photoshop art filters. That day I made a somewhat gentle right turn, but came to a halting stop, in the grey rental car, which the Husband and I named Sedgwick. No lumpia sat on the back seat, but Good Friends J & T were. They, the Husband, and I quickly unbuckled our seat belts and tumbled out of

Hey, ya. Hi, ya. How ya? Imagine a Lilo smile (Lilo, as in Lilo and Stitch , a 2002 Disney movie).  That is how I'm feeling. Also a bit foggy brained and weary boned from all the week-long fun of turning 65! years old. That, dear blogging friends, is why I have been quiet in my corner of the world. For my birthday gift, the Husband and I rented a car to travel beyond 25-year-old Eliza Does-alot's comfort radius, as well as drive after sunset, if need be. Eliza's headlights do not compete with today's head beams, which blind me into a panic. The Husband doesn't even try driving at night, thank goodness. We drove the rental, a silver 2019 (oh my!) Nissan Sentra we called Sedgwick, on narrow mountain roads, unpaved back roads, smooth freeways, and bumpy highways. And, I was able to drive home at night, without using my high beams. I felt like a younger self. Spontaneity. Go with the flow. I discovered that I can still do both. Hurrah! We spent my birthday

Today's post is all about what's going on in two parts of the backyard. One part is the patio, of which first up are the strawberry plants that live in the red cooler. The original three plants gave us two or three yummy strawberries every few days or so from June to just recently. The plants also sent out more than a dozen runners. All, I hope, will provide us with more strawberries. Back in June, I finally got brave and turned the Daddy's wheelbarrow from the 1960s into a succulents planter. Some succulents did okay, such as the red paddle plant, while others scorched to death. I've  determined that it's okay to pull out a shriveled succulent, as well as plop in another succulent on Wheelbarrow Plain. I keep remembering what Mama said, "If they grow, they grow." The Husband and I have temporarily named the four distinct spaces in the backyard, from south to north, Avocado Room, Sunny Room, Shady Room, and Geranium Room. The last few days I h

Have I already told you that I'm starting to think maybe going on 65 is as fun as going on 5? Oh, my, just think how I shall feel when I turn 65 at the end of the year. Hello Medicare! Thank you, yes, I will take that senior discount honoring those of us who made it to 65 years old and over. And, that's not even talking about the joyful feeling of letting go of yet another unnecessary responsibility. Ahhh. Yesterday, the Husband and I enjoyed a lovely summer day hanging out with friends under redwood trees. Not only did we breathe in fresh filtered air (thank you, Redwood trees!) but also floated in the warmth and love of long-time friendships. Our friends are an amazing simpatico blend of the Husband's and my friends from our college and work days and their spouses and friends. We come from all points of the regions. At least once a year we plan some kind of adventure, usually a walk then lunch, and who ever can come, comes.  Whenever we get together, everyone g

I'm feeling mighty groovy right now. Just like the song sang by Simon & Garfunkel, once upon a time. The Husband and I had a lot of fun this weekend. Ever since Eliza, our dependable 25-year old of a metal steed, had work done on her, she has been taking us places. So much so that I know the moon is in afternoon sky right now, something I haven't noticed in a very long while. On Saturday morning, we joined a group of like-minded people  downtown to express our concerns about the actions of our federal government. There was about two dozen of us, I think. Pretty good for our town. The current President's policy to separate children from their parents at the border was an incomprehensible and  immoral act.  To fix his action, he signed an Executive Order to stop his administration from following his policy for any family who is detained at the border. But, what about all the children who are already separated? Legally, children in immigration detention centers ca

Mike, Complex man. Rest in peace. I met Mike in 1985 when I married his father. I got to know Mike as the son of his parents. Later after the First and Last Husband's death, I got to know Mike as a friend and peer. It was Mike who introduced me to the Husband. For that I shall forever be thankful. In the last two years or so, except for a couple of phone calls, there hadn't been any contact with Mike. Just call it a difference of opinions.  Mike is one of those people who has a way of lingering in your mind and conversation. And, he has been on my mind lately. Mike passed away recently. Michael Jeffrey Yoon, son of Frank Yoon and Jean Wong Yoon, and brother of James Yoon, was born in the year of the Tiger on the cusp of Gemini and Cancer. June 21, 1950, to be precise, in San Francisco, California. He passed away on December 22, 2017 in Livermore, California. "My friends call me Mike," he said sometimes, after introducing himself to strangers.  MI