A glorious first day of Spring to you, dear Readers. It's overcast with the hope of more rain, rather than just sprinkles, in my neck of the woods today. Having a nice steady, but gentle on the fruit blossoms, beat of rain would be perfect for right now. Yesterday, the Mama sowed her bittermelon seeds in a pot. That means the time for the Husband and me to start preparing the Mama's veggie garden plots is very, very near. If the Mama still had her strength and endurance, everything would've been done a few weeks ago. That's okay though. She has been distracted with transplanting different flowers from elsewhere in her back and front yards to the one particular patch of ground that you see in the photo below. "I want all flowers here," she said."Lots of flowers." It's gonna look amazing.

Our local movie house offers a Wednesday series of independent films. They are the type of movies that if you live in a small city out in the boondocks you have to schlep over the hills or up the far-away freeway to a large nearby city. Yesterday was the first time the Husband and I took advantage of the series. Unfortunately, it was the theater's last offering. Who knows if, and when, it will offer another series. The movie was Hyde Park on Hudson , which was about the relationship between President Franklin D. Roosevelt and Daisy Suckley, a distant cousin. It was a good-size audience for the late afternoon screening—about 24 and 30—especially when you consider where we live.  We were all  uhem in the grey-haired age group. The Husband and I were probably among the youngest there. I whispered my observation to the Husband.  "I still think of myself as being in my 20s," he said. "I do, too. But, we're not." "I thought we were middle-age."

Garlic cloves all in a row—kinda. The Mama definitely has something-to-plant radar. This morning, I decided to plant the garlic cloves that were sprouting on the kitchen counter. I always wanted to grow garlic, just for the heck of it. Hmmm, I may have inherited the "mad horticulturist" genes from the Mama. Anyway, I put the chosen garlic in a yogurt container (which was probably the clue to the Mama that something was about to be planted) and put the container out on the back step. I would plant them after I picked some lemons. The lemon-picking task quickly created the additional task of pruning the branches that were touching the tops of the apple tree. To the Mama's delight, because that meant she'd have something fun to do in the garden. As I was walking by the Mama at one point of fetching pruning tools, she had this where-is-that-thing-I-wanted? look on her face. I thought it was the empty basket  for the lemons that I was holding, so I gave that t

Last week, I planted my first banana trees. That's another Doing 60 for me. The banana trees are transplants from the Mama's banana grove in another part of the yard. Click here to see where they originally stood. They were the clump on the far left side.  Usually, I dig out the banana trees and leave them for the Mama to replant. No more. Not that the Mama can't do it. But, why let her have all the fun, right? Besides, I need to increase my strength, if I want to keep up with her come veggie gardening time. The Mama supervised the job. I lugged them across the yard, one by one. In the photo, the banana trees look like they weigh nothing. Hah! The Mama marked the spots where she wanted them. And, I dug.  Ping! Rock. Ping! Another rock. Ping! Ping! I enjoyed the challenge of getting the rocks out. It was so much easier than sitting in front of the computer screen and trying to think of a word that would precisely describe what I needed to say in a sentence. P

I got out of bed singing "one toke over the line", but I was not channeling the guys who originally sang it. Rather, I was singing while thinking of the singers who sang it on the Lawrence Welk Show.  Mr. Welk described the song as a "modern spiritual".  Uh-huh. Yep. With that lively verse going over—and over—in my head, I decided that the agenda today is to put one foot in front of the other.  I speak metaphorically. Perhaps, though, I may just take a step out the door and go around the block. The Husband and I are going on a hike with some friends at the end of the month, so it would be a good idea to be a bit in shape for it. I'm counting the hike as one of my Doing 60 things. Doing 60 ?  That's what I've called the challenge that my dear friend Jenn gave me as I approach 60 years old at the end of 2013.  I've already done a few. Just haven't written about any of the them, until now. Last week, Jenn and several other young old fogey

Uh-hem. Back in October of 2012, a fellow blogger bestowed on me the Very Inspiring Blogger Award . Today, I shall complete the task for having accepted the reward. What can I say, I thought it was just yesterday. Well, at least I let my blogger friend— Widdershins —know pronto that I appreciated the honor. About the Award Blogger awards that we bestow upon fellow bloggers come with rules. Those rules often get modified as they make the rounds around the world, and that I shall do. These are the acceptance rules: 1. Thank the blogger who nominated you. Thanks again, Widdershins Worlds . 2. Place the award on your site. Done 3. Share 7 random things about you. You can read them below below. 4. Nominate 15 blogs. Let them know they've been nominated and how to accept the award.  There are many blogs that I read frequently, sporadically, or just once or twice. They all inspire me to write, to sew, to cook, to eat, to read, to exercise, to dream, and do many other things

The Daddy and I were both born in the Year of the Snake, according to the Chinese zodiac. Sssssssssss. 2013 is the year of the Snake . May it be a great run around the sun for us all! Today, I'm sharing an edited post that I published on February 25, 2011 on my former blog This and That. Here and There. Now, Sometimes Then. The post is about the day the Daddy died.  (That blog is still up if you're interested in reading other posts later.  Here's the link .) The Daddy died from a heart attack. He was 76 years old. Maybe he didn't pick how or where he died, but I think he was happy it wasn't at home where the Mama would've come home to find him after a long, tiring day at work. He was always protective of her. That day the Daddy decided to go to lunch at the senior center with his good friend Danny, one of the godfathers of mine. The Daddy hadn't been there for quite a long while. He hadn't been feeling well, but those last three days, I was