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A Tippy-Tapping 13

1.  Sweet Pea Song, my iMac, is 10 years old, more or less. Unfortunately for Sweet Pea Song and me there are few, if any, updates available for her system, as well as for the applications I use.

2.  She fooled her developers with their planned obsolescence. She continues to be a song of a sweet pea.

3.  Lately I've been tippy tapping on typewriters at garage sales and thrift shops. Will I buy one?

4.  Smith-Corona Coronet. That's the kind of portable blue electric typewriter on which I tippy-tapped during my 20s when I was into writing short stories. It gave out a comforting buzz that complimented the tip tip tip tap tap tip tip tap tap of the keys.


5.  I miss inserting paper into a typewriter, rolling up the paper, pushing the carriage back, hitting the space bar three times, and pressing the keys. Voila. Magic words on paper.

6.  Older Brother gave me the used typewriter in exchange for babysitting two-month-old Eldest Niece so her mom could go back to work. I knew nothing…

Today's Thirteen

1. We went to see the Husband's doctor for his quarterly visit. Mostly good news, hurrah! According to the doctor's scale, the Husband and I lost 4 to 5 pounds since we last stood on that scale. Me, a month ago. Him, I don't know when. The doctor was impressed that the Husband lost 13 pounds in three months, something like that. I may have lost about 10 pounds. Pretty good for us not trying.

2. We want and need to lose weight. Him, maybe 10 more and me, far more. We aren't making a big deal about eating more of this, less of that, and none of the happy yummy stuff. We eat what we want, including potato chips and ice cream, and, as one doctor said to me long ago, be mindful about how much we consume in a sitting.

3. Years ago, friends in their 60s told us that they find themselves eating less as they aged. Their appetites were great and they enjoyed food, willing to try different cuisines. (They were foodies way before foodies came into fashion.)  So, I guess that has…

A Summer Ramble

Most of last week was being lost in Sudoku. Two, three, and, sometimes, four hours at a time, I was distracted only by making meals, eating, doing minimal errands and chores, being just a bit creative, and combing gnats and fruit flies out of Molly's fur. No excuses for my slacker activity, not even the few days of high temperatures.

It wasn't until recently that I learned to play Sudoku. So far I've been able to solve a puzzle every eight games or so. I'm indiscriminate: I play easy, medium, hard, and very darn hard games, whatever happens to by lying around in a newspaper, magazine, or Sudoku book. Whatever its level, the puzzle I'm playing is difficult. I like the process so it doesn't bum me too much when my solution doesn't work.  Solving Sudoku reminds me of doing algebra problems once-upon-a-time in high school. I loved solving for x's, y's, and z's, regardless of whether I got the correct answers. The chase! (Cue wicked grin.)


Do you kn…

E as in Europe

1. My last name starts with the letter E. When I spell it to someone, I sometimes say "E as in Europe". I'm not trying to trick the person. That's simply what pops into my head.

2. I figure customer service people can spell Europe. Am I wrong to think that?

3. Mama pronounced the letter E as "A". That's how she learned it as a kid in the Philippines, a U.S. territory (then), which had been a Spanish colony in Mama's grandparents' time. "The old-timers spoke Spanish. They tried to teach me," said Mama. I wonder what Mama was interested in instead.


4. The silliness it was when Mama asked 12-year-old Susie to spell a word that has one or more letter E's. Oh my gosh! Let's suppose, Mama asks, "How do you spell Elephant?"
    "E-," I start.
    "What kind of E?" she asks.
    "E." I say.
    "E as in A. or E as in E."
    "E!"

5. Before I understood that she pronounced

A Story Rock

I like to keep a bunch of rocks nearby when I paint so that I can use up any leftover paint on them. Wouldn't it be funny if the rocks in the yard seek hidey holes because they dread the thought of being splashed with clothing? Now that would make for an interesting story. Be my guest.

This afternoon I happened to notice the various faces of a green painted rock. A different story on every face. These are only four of its faces out of eight, possibly 10 or more. What stories do you see?


On Mondays, when I can, I like to participate in Angie's Mosaic Mondayat Letting Go of the Bay Leaf. Come check out the other bloggers with me.


By the way, here's what happened at last week's City Council meeting that I was in a hurry to check out live on TV: The Council voted 3-1 to disregard the mayor's appeal to stop the construction of a project to build condos on top of retail stores and another building to house nonprofit organizations on a downtown lot that has been empty fo…

Enjoying a Moment

Tried and True? Or, an experiment?

That's what I asked the Husband, who took himself out of the science fiction story he was reading for the nearly-one-too-many time, within probably 15 minutes.

I am a fortunate woman because the Husband didn't ignore me, nor grunted, then ignored me or snarlingly said, "What."

The Husband, instead, looked up from his book and asked, "I don't know what you're talking about. What are you referring to?" ("Now" is what I added in my head.)

"What do you think?" I asked. "Should I make the olive cheese balls the usual way or try something different?"


He pondered and considered (I love that) before having a level-headed discussion with a whirly-minded woman as myself. We agreed the only constant (kinda) was the cheesy-buttery dough because the types of olives and cheese rarely were the same combination as the first time I made the recipe.

I could refer to the recipe, but I don't have th…

Resourcefulness

Earlier this week the Husband and I attended the funeral service for dear friend J's sister, Rosie, who was much loved by her family and friends. Two of her nieces told loving, funny, and cheerful Rosie stories to us all there. They called Rosie the fun-loving auntie who, from their stories, you can tell the nieces thought of as their second mother. It was heart-warming to hear as I'm childless as well, and, once was the fun-loving auntie.  That's life sometimes, bittersweet.

The family considered Rosie to be the lumpia king. She made the best and it sounded like she always kept lumpia (similar to an eggroll, for those who've never tasted lumpia) in the freezer ready to fry at any time of day or night. Hearing all that talk about lumpia got me wanting some so when the Husband and I got home, I took out lumpia wrappers and leftover lumpia filling from the freezer.

I managed to roll sixteen lumpias from the mix. Hurrah!

But what do I do with the rest of the wrappers? I…

13 Years Ago -- I Wouldn't Have Thought

Thirteen years ago, I would've replied "Nooo. Really?" should future me had reached into the time spectrum to tease me about my today. Never ever would I have thought 13 years ago that I would actually do these things.

One. Taking 15 years for us to move the Husband's parents' belongings from a rented storage locker to our garage.

Two.  Buying artist's and crafter's paints.


Three. Tending to all sorts of flowers on what was once Mama's lawn. 

Four. Mulling over the possibilities for curtains I'll sew for the bedroom, L Studio, and living room windows. 

Five. Interrupting a task to play Scrabble with the Husband, and knowing that I'll finish the task when we're done with the game. 


Six. Painting a mural.

Seven. Being told by a specialist that he can't straighten my leg. Crooked? That was news to me.

Eight. Receiving my social security benefits!


Nine. Being loved by Molly the Cat.

Ten. Meeting many kindred spirits through blogging. You all…

Molly's Missus Lady

Dear Blogging Friends, I appreciate your concern to what Jeanna nicely asks, ". . .where the hells are ya?"

Time flew.

Words stuttered. Thoughts blocked. Fog erased sentences. I shrugged it off by becoming a mad demon downsizing the stuff in the garage and house so that all the stuff that has been in storage for 15 years may get shoved into the garage.  Of course, the decision to make this happen was three weeks before the Husband had his first cataract surgery. Once that happened, he won't be able to lift, carry, and manipulate heavy objects until June. (He has his second cataract surgery in May.)

Success! Everything got moved and fit in the garage.

Success! The Husband was able to read 20/25 on the eye chart with his new left lens less than 24 hours after his procedure. Pretty good from 20/800.


"Keep busy" is the advice some people like to give those who recently lose someone. I didn't understand that when the First Husband died in 1995 nor Mama three y…

Carpe Diem

Hey ya, Hi ya! How ya?

It has been awhile, two weeks awhile more or less. I like to think that in a parallel universe, the Husband and I were away on holiday, because in my reality I was simply being out of sorts. The first week I was feeling bummed as I was doing another round of sorting through Mama's stuff. Along the way I caught a virus and nursing that into a short run distracted me. The Husband and Molly the Cat were wonderful caretakers to this grump of a patient.

So, here I am, raring to go, again.

We've had rain for nearly all of this past week.  Hurrah! All the different birds in the backyard enjoyed the rain, too. Chirp, chirp.


Molly the Cat wants you to know she is raring to go, too. For her, it is outdoors. A (cute) black cat has invaded her territory.

Where am I hanging out this time? At Jesh's All Seasons, Angie's Mosaic Monday, and Jeana's Say Cheese! I hope you check out their memes, possibly join in. Thank you, Ladies!

All Seasons
Mosaic Monday
S…

13 Delightful D's for Me

Day's End.  That was how it looked yesterday at sunset. 

Disaster Rose.  What do you think of that for a protagonist's nickname?

David.  I've always liked that name. Solid, cheerful, thoughtful. Dave. Davey.  The Husband's surname means son of David. 


Debonair.  Cary Grant. George Clooney. The Husband. Humor is part of my definition of debonair.

Dig it.  Can you dig it? Hands, please, who said this once upon a time, with a straight face. I do like to dig in the yard, and I do a decent job of digging, I like to think.

Meet John Doe.   Recently the Husband and I watched Meet John Doe, a 1941 Frank Capra film starring Gary Cooper and Barbara Stanwyck with Walter Brennan. Good trembles into arms of Evil so it may survive, but eventually Good realizes it is not Evil and scrambles back onto the path of light.

The name John Doe doesn't make sense to me. I understand that it refers to a male with an unknown identity. Shouldn't it be John Buck then?


Daisy.  So heart…