Have you ever wondered what Thanksgiving Day is all about? How it came to be?  It's not about the big box store sales that start earlier each year on Thanksgiving Day.  Or, is it? It's not about the huge generous portions of turkey, stuffing, gravy, pumpkin pie, and other yummy food that friends and family gather together to consume. Though that is much to be thankful for, especially if you don't have to do anything but eat. It's not even about the Pilgrims who supposedly ate the first Thanksgiving meal in the New World with the original residents of the land. According to the Wikipedia article, Thanksgiving Day originated as a kind of harvest festival. You know, as in thank you, God, for all the food that we have been able to grow, gather, eat, and store for the harsh cold months until we can grow food again.  I am indeed very thankful for the lemons, persimmons, avocados, apples, and tomatoes that we harvest from our backyard. In the early years of the United State

I'm with the Missus Lady. I can't decide which movie not to talk about. So, this week you get two thoughtful kindly hearted stories. Both are British films. The Humans really ought to visit the British Isles one day. This Beautiful Fantastic (2017) Setting: A British city   Some people classify this story as a modern fairy tale. I don't know why. Isn't it possible for a timid soul to dream possibilities for herself, fall in love with an unlikely person, become almost like a daughter to a grumpy neighbor, and grow a beautiful garden seemingly overnight? This is definitely a feel good movie. It's also a tearful one for sentimentals like Missus Lady. Hero Man looked quite satisfied with the ending, too. Their Finest    (2017)   Setting: London, 1940 World War II Catrin is hired by the Ministry of Information to provide a woman's point of view on propaganda films in production. Proving herself to be a decent script writer, she is assigned to work on the next f

Yes, I know. I look cute hanging out in my cute surroundings.  If you please, I would like to continue my nap in peace.  Perhaps you would like to go read my movie reviews . Purrrrrrrrrrr.   

"Mr. Herd," said she.  "I am your guide." "Pleased to meet you." he said  "Call me Shep." "Shep Herd?" "Why yes that is what I do." Ba dum tssssshhh. You're welcome.

A party has been going on in my head, and it has been rather rowdy at times. We all do need to be rowdy once in a while, but within reason. Within reason.  Who coined that phrase? How long did it take for others to start saying it? Before it was explained in a dictionary? In a grammar book? Is this phrase an idiom? Are idioms even taught anymore? Pshew! See what I mean? A party is going on in my head! Some of you may have thought that my idea of rowdy is making loud and happy noises, and possibly doing a silly prank or two on the Husband. That, of course. Sure. Maybe. Not telling. Giggle.   Rowdy to me is also playing with words and sentences, and thoughts and concepts. Once upon a time 11 years ago I jumped out of a plane. That was not hard at all. If you freeze, like I think I did, your instructor (the professional skydiver to whom you're hooked), merely pushes you over as he falls forward. Me jumping out of the plane (from 18,000 feet up in the air, too, mind you) w

Missy Molly plopped herself down in my path for her first morning purrrr! and petting. Pretty Molly. " Mew! Where do think you're going? I want breakfast." "I want to do this first," I said, opening the back door to the chilly morning. I leaned out the door, talked into the air, and watched for poofs of cold breath to float away. Nothing. "Good," I said, opening the door wider. Molly scurried to the south and I limped to the north with a bucket full of dumb cane. Dieffenbachia to some. A few weeks ago, I finally took the overgrown dumb cane out of its pot. Wowza, I tell you. The plant's thick tangled roots completely filled the medium-sized pot. Sorry guy. It is the sole descendant of the original plant that the Husband received as a gift in the mid-1970s. From this successor of a dieffenbachia, I pulled apart about a dozen more descendants. I also snapped pieces from two or three tall stalks to try growing more that way. With luck a

One thing about not being out there, being visible, being noticeable, being memorable. People forget that you're there. Until you're not there and someone asks, "Where the heck is the person who sweated this small stuff?" SO UNFAILINGLY RELIABLE. I'd rather not have that on my tombstone. Shudder. You might as well etch this beneath my name— DRUDGE . Yes, yes, I know that the world can't run without us drudges. Did I say I abhor being a drudge? If I had, I would've done something about it long time ago. I would've taken the other path. Each and every time. I cannot imagine myself as a high maintenance diva. Maybe in a parallel universe I am. Heaven help those people.

The Beatles! Need I say more? I didn't think so. "We are just a band that made it very big. That's all," said John Lennon on Disc 1 of The Beatles Anthology . I'm glad The Beatles happened during my lifetime, in particular, my youth. John and Ringo were born in 1940, Paul in 1942, and George in 1943. They had a child's memory of WWII. In spite of (or because of) all the harsh stuff they may have experienced as children, they gave us beautiful lyrics and music. Thank you, The Beatles! By the way, have you heard their version of Besame Mucho from their younger years. Just put a pair of velvet pants on Paul. Gosh.

Something good, happy, nice, and wonderful is developing in our home. I can't put my finger on it. Just feels like it. Purrrrrrr. Miss Hotchkiss Ballroom Dancing and Charm School (2005) Setting: Any bucolic town USA (movie was shot in the Pasadena and Glendale area) Frank (played by Robert Carlyle) is a grieving widower who gets passed on a dangerous mountainous road by happy guy Steve (performed by John Goodman). Minutes later Frank catches up to Steve who somehow crashed on a wide portion of the road. Frank keeps Steve talking while waiting for the ambulance and during the ambulance ride. Steve tells him about being a kid in love with Lisa and taking ballroom dance classes from Miss Hotchkiss. Young Steve and Lisa promised each other that they would meet on a certain day in the distant future at Miss Hotchkiss' school, which was where adult Steve had been heading. Steve got Frank to promise to go to the school and tell Lisa that he tried to get there. Frank does. Before h

Yesterday, I said I was no longer interested in going to Mars. Not that I've been offered the opportunity. I love the idea of traveling through space and exploring Mars. The problem is. . .me. Maintaining the flexibility, endurance, and stamina to deal with number one conceits is getting tougher for me. Let's face it in nearly all workplaces, there's always one. I'm beyond the point of putting up with that kind of misery, day in and day out on the job. Imagine doing that in close quarters 24 hours a day through infinity and beyond.

As I settled back to read a few more pages of a novel around 11 o'clock the other night, after spending an hour or so doodling and drawing sugar canes, peppermint canes, and walking canes, I realized that I was doing different things.  (Canes are not easy to draw, by the way.) I am actually looking for things to do, different things to try because I am. . . giggle . . .retired. There are some things I'm no longer interested in trying . . . hang gliding . . .roller skating . . . hiking the Pacific Crest trail . . .driving a big rig cross country, toot-toot . . .going to Mars Yup, no longer interested in making those dreams come true.  One of the things I have been doing is painting. I did that watercolor in the photo up there. What do you think: Does it remind you of granite mountains? Maybe somewhere in the Sierra Nevada?

In the past year, I've used the Mama's cane more than the Mama ever did in her 20+ years of owning it. The Mama didn't believe in using canes. She said, "The more you use it, the more old you are." I eventually learned to shrug off her ignoring the helpful tool as one of the Mama's vanity things. She may be ancient but heck if she was going to look it. It was painful to watch the Mama slowly get up from a seated position, wobble immediately (because damn if she was going to stand still for a moment or two) into a walk, then oh so slowly make her way to her destination, using walls and furniture to help push herself forward. But, by golly, she got where she wanted on her accord. And, that was what was important and dignified for her. As for me. . .how do I feel about using the cane? As a young thing, I would get infuriated at drivers who paid no mind to pedestrians in the cross walk. Sometimes when I had my own close calls, I thought that when I&

The season has begun of Brrrr, Cold.  Yet Molly the Cat and I let the bright blue sky fool us. I'll sit outside if I darn well please, says Molly the Cat crouched very low to the ground. Me. I'm wearing shorts and t-shirt and wandering around without socks and shoes. Giggle.  

Do I garden because I love it? Is gardening something that's simply in my genes? In her last years, the Mama would sit in her garden or at the kitchen table and ask, "Who will take care of the garden when I die?" "Don't worry," I would tell her. That's what I liked about the Mama. She didn't ever ask me to tend to her garden when she was gone. She didn't want me to feel obligated.

Last month I was introduced to rock painting. Another creative outlet for me.  It's a good thing our back yard is full of rocks and there are a lot of places that I can border with them. I wonder though if the rocks mind being painted.

Hundreds of persimmon buds, then hundreds of persimmon babies fell this year that I didn't think we would have much of a crop. I was wrong. The persimmon tree has taught me that we never know what will be.

Today's movie is about "So what that I'm an old person and screw you for thinking so." Pause. "I'm doing it anyway." My Humans are those kind of people. At least I think so and they think so. That's all that counts. Purrrrrrrr. Redwood Highway (2013) Setting: Oregon Marie lives in a retirement facility in southern Oregon. She has been invited to her granddaughter's wedding on the Oregon coast about 80 miles away. Because Marie is a difficult woman, meaning she and her kids have major friction, she can't get a ride there. So what else can the old coot do but sneak out one morning with her backpack and fishing pole and start walking up the Redwood Highway. Road trip! Is Marie a experienced hiker? What does her family do when they find out she's gone from the facility? Does Marie's orneriness get ironed out by the people she meets on the way? Does she meet someone who may be her true love? What caused her to be such an unh

This drawing started with some free styling with glitter pens. La la la. . .    A couple weeks later I pulled out the crayons. Yesterday I took a photo of the drawing and played with it in Photoshop.  Voila! Now to find space for the drawing on the refrigerator.

Warning: This is a grumpy story that happened this past summer in front of one of my happy places. The encounter did not sour me on continuing my visits, but for a moment after the event I felt like what's the use of living when people like that guy we met is alive. I was parallel parking into a tight spot in front of the library where a whole lot of children and their parents were lined up in front of the bookmobile. The kids were signing up for a how-many-books-do-I-want-to-read-this-summer type of program. The car in front of me hung over its rear parking mark and the car behind me was nearly up to its front parking mark. As I turned off the engine, the Husband and I heard a very angry "HEY!" We looked over to see a man standing against the building, his arms crossed, glaring at us. "Are you talking to us?" the Husband asked. "You hit my car!" the middle-aged man shouted. "We did not," said the Husband. "We would've hea

Find out what the monthly amount for my health insurance premium will be next year.  Shudder. I think the worse so that if it's not worse, then all the better. When the Husband tells me we received a bill in the mail, I say something like "How much—$2,503.18?" Of course it isn't. It never is. Well, untrue. We paid at last two bills like that for my not-so-hysterical surgery last May. Now, I'm back to thinking about health insurance. Being older and now having pre-existing conditions, I'd be crazy not to have health insurance. Shudder.