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Itty-Bitty Bananas

Itty-bitty bananas are growing in our backyard. It's quite amazing. Don't let that photo fool you. I took it close up. They are truly very small bananas. Bananas have grown before, but normally they sprout at the end of summer, then before you know it, the weather is cool, and so much for the fruit. This year though, ooh la la, we may be eating bananas from our trees. I'm participating in the Blogging from A to Z Challenge this month. To check out other participants, click here . See you tomorrow.  

Home Improvement Project

The Husband and I stood in line at the big-box home improvement store. As we waited our turn, I watched the busy movement around us. All the lines were long, a given for a Saturday,  I suppose. Men and women pushed their carts forward in line, all heaped with lumber, sacks of soil, cans of paint, plumbing fixtures, and other large and bulky items for their DIY projects.  Finally, it was our turn. The Husband placed his items on the counter—a tiny light bulb and two drawer knobs. The transaction was quick. As the cashier handed a tiny bag to the Husband, he said, "Enjoy your project." The Husband still cracks up when he recalls that moment. I'm participating in the Blogging from A to Z Challenge this month. To check out other participants, click here . See you tomorrow. 

Grey Hair Stops Cars

It started happening last year. Well, I noticed it last year. A wonderful phenomenon that sometimes happens at intersections where there are no traffic lights or stop signs. The Husband and I stand at a corner, waiting to safely cross the street. We are in no hurry, usually. So, if there are several cars about to parade in front of us, no big deal. But, then, unexpectedly, a driver stops for us. We walk as quickly as we can across the street, waving our thanks to the driver.  The first few times this occurred, I was amazed that there were still kind drivers in the world. One day it occurred twice—drivers stopping their car to let us go by. The first time was in a parking lot, the second at a street intersection. As Yul Brynner in The King and I sang, "But is a puzzlement." Then it dawned on me. The drivers who stopped saw two old people standing on a corner. Perhaps we looked forlorn or lost. Ha! I doubt it. Our normal stance is silly. They probably felt sorry for us

Freeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

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

The Elephant in the Room

Lately I've been hearing this phrase a lot— the elephant in the room . For example, a character says, "We can't ignore the elephant in the room anymore." That said, I shall address the elephant that has been showing itself the past few days on my blog. The drawings. Rather, the doodles.Those are mine, you betcha! Very rough and kid-like. You'd think I'd be embarrassed to show them. Nope. This elephant -- my doodles -- is just another something new for me to attempt. Ever since my first grade teacher told me that my cows needed to stand on terra firma , I have been insecure about drawing, painting, sketching, and anything to do with art. Not anymore. The elephant in the room is now s-i-x-t-y and can do whatever she darn well pleases. So, I may be posting a doodle every day of this A to Z challenge. Or not. Because I'm talking about the elephant, I may not be inclined to do any more. But, then, as I'm composing this post, I can't think of w

Doughnuts

The morning the First Husband died, I had thought about doughnuts. Frank was 21 days into hospice care, which we elected to do at home. On that 21st day, I woke up feeling strangely relaxed. Unlike the other 20 days, I wanted to sleep a bit longer. Thump. Frank lightly tapped me on my head. Two times. I felt heartened. He had not been able to move any part of himself for days.  I opened my eyes. He looked at me intensely and clearly. I smiled. He hadn't been this alert since the first few days of Hospice. "Okay, Frank, since you insist, I'm getting up," I said. I opened the blinds to the living room where we had been sleeping on the sofa bed for the last four months. "It's a beautiful day, Frank." Our morning ritual began by turning Frank onto his side, then holding a glass of water mixed with a bit of morphine for him to sip from a straw. On day one of hospice, Frank decided to stop eating to bring death on quicker. He, as well as the hospice nurses

To Play or Not to Play the Cello

I want to learn to play the cello. So I say right now. In the past year, I have changed from wanting to play the bass guitar to the bass, accordion, trombone, drums, and violin. And, now it is the cello. The Husband says settle on one already. Easy for him to say. He can play the trombone. He can read music. He can sing on key. Me? I can read the C-scale, specifically the first five notes C-D-E-F-G. The first time I sang along with the Husband during our courting days, more than 18 years ago, he told me I was off-key. After another song or two, he said, "You're tone deaf." Huh? What? That was news to me and I'd been singing 40 years by then. But, it did suddenly make sense why the elementary school chorus teacher didn't let me join the group and I couldn't for the life of me tune my guitar when I was an angsty teenager. Fortunately for the Husband, I haven''t let that imperfection keep me from singing when I feel like it. He has even said

Bra Time

Names have been changed because I just don't remember them anymore. "Need any help, Bea," a grey-haired woman said heartily, from the doorway of the Friends of the Library Bookstore. "Laurie, good to see you, darling," said the elderly Bea, turning from the bookshelves. "You're not scheduled for today." "I know," Laurie said, walking into the shop. "I had to come down town to pay bills and return books. Since I had to put on a bra, I thought I'd stop by and do a couple of hours if you could use me." Both women laughed. I laughed, too, from the side of the room. Yup. I could hardly wait to get home and take my bra off. I'm participating in the Blogging from A to Z Challenge this month. To check out other participants, click here . See you tomorrow. 

Teaching the Alphabet

"Sometimes it's a good idea to teach A, B, D, C rather than the usual A, B, C, D." That's what I said at a job interview for a youth counselor position in the late 1970s. I cannot recall what the interviewers had asked me, nor can I remember why I chose to give a "thinking out of the box" response.  This was my second interview for the position so perhaps I tried to sabotage myself. I was very good about things like that back then. I did not get the job. No surprise there. But, I figured it was more so because I didn't have the desired skill of being bilingual in Spanish. A month later, the group offered me a temporary position as one of the eligibility officers for its summer youth employment program. That job turned out to be more compatible with my personality. A few days on the job, I met the woman who was hired for the youth counselor position. Unlike me, she had a working relationship with the interviewers, having previously worked with th

The Blogging From A to Z April Challenge

Just call me #2028. For now. That may change throughout the month during the Blogging from A to Z April Challenge . This is my second year. Unlike last year, I have no expectations. I may finish, I may not. And if I don't? Then I will have recognized that my world has become too stressful and doing the daily post challenge is not a priority. Hmmm, I believe I have turned the corner into Serenity Now!

A Name Change

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

Pruning is Done

Snap. Snap. Snap. "Mama's always finding something to snap in the backyard," I said to the Husband, as I peeked out the back door to see what she was snapping. "She'll always find something," said he. The temperature was in the 50s. Very cold, she would complain, if she was inside the house. Outside, she doesn't feel how cold it is because she says she's always moving. Always doing something in her garden. She has already dug up her vegetable boxes. I won't be surprised if she starts planting beans next month and then complains a month later why it takes so long for them to sprout. That's the Mama. Keeps her strong, I know. She is, I believe, healthier than the Husband and me right now. At least all the trees are pruned. The apple trees. The persimmon trees. The apricot tree. The miracle tree. The avocado trees. The ornamental pear tree on the front yard. Too bad we didn't have a prune tree to prune. Of course, there is th