Happy A.S.E.

I’ve discovered the TRICK to aging is to embrace the concept and fight the process.

I’ve decided the TREAT to aging is I can now get by with so much more than I ever could before.

Does this make EVERY day Halloween?

Boo!

And know you are loved!

Training the machine

Yesterday, a revelation.  Today-- discovery!  I have a microphone on my iPad mini that will type everything I say! I am so excited I could just spit!  The problem with voice recognition is sometimes you have to practice to make sure the computer understands what you say.  Because I've always been a teacher and probably always will be a teacher, allow me to give you some exercises that will facilitate your computer's ability to understand and appreciate you.  Number one:  toy boat toy boat toy boat toy boat toy boat.  Repeat 10 times in a row.  Number two: a big black bug bit a big black bear: a big black bug bit a big black bear.  Again, repeat. Number three: Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers.  A peck of pickled peppers Peter Piper picked.  If Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers, where's the peck of pickled peppers Peter Piper picked?  Number four: red leather yellow leather red leather yellow leather red leather yellow leather.  Repeat.  And number five (this one you'll probably have to work on):  Betty Botter bought some butter but she said this butter's bitter. If I put it in my batter it will make my batter bitter. But a bit of better butter--that would make my batter better. So she bought a bit of butter--better than her bitter butter and she put it in her batter and her batter was not bitter so 'twas better Betty Botter  bought a bit of better butter.  If you need one more--for instance in a group of like-minded adults--carefully practice the following:  I'm not a fig plucker nor a fig plucker's son but I'll pluck figs till the fig plucking's done. And oh how I wish you could see in some instances what the computer thought I had said (amazingly, it had no trouble at all with the last one!).  I can comprehend why people don't understand me at times!  Enjoy your practice, enjoy your wife (I said life, but I kinda like both!) and know that you are involved (my favorite--my computer obviously must be trained to LOVE!)

Answers!

It was a flash of brilliance—an insight so powerful it moved me to such a state of self-impressiveness that even a man with my ego was embarrassed.  I finally figured out why I like to cook.  It’s not about getting to eat, although that is a good thing.  It’s not about making people smile, although that is a good thing.  It’s not about seeing whether I can outdo Ms. Loosewheel when it comes to using absolutely every cooking utensil we own, although that is a good thing.  It’s about the challenge!  Can I take what I know and transfer it to something I don’t?  Can I look at a recipe and see how it could be better?  Can I stand the utter defeat of a dish not turning out?  (The answer to that is yes.  Of course, it was easier when I was still teaching, because there is no such thing as a bad dish in the teachers’ lounge!  If you bring it, it will be eaten!)  There are no guarantees in the kitchen. There are snafu’s hiding around each corner.  There are interruptions that can cause one to lose track.  And then there’s the bitty bladder thing, which truly is a nuisance!  All things can and do conspire against a cook at times, and the true joy is in the defeat of that conspiracy!  This burst of reason happened as I tried a dish I had never made before. It was okay, but could be better.  So I tried it again.  It was better.  I shall try it again.  But not for a little while.  You actually can get tired of dumplings!  But I will continue to eat…and smile…and dirty dishes…because I can and because I like!  And the trip to the big blue receptacle isn’t that much of jaunt should I need to bury the evidence!  Have an amazing gourmet experience in the near future, and know you are loved!

To you, my friend

And the seasons, they go round and round...it is with tears that I just finished reading an e-mail from a friend who has decided the time has come to accept the end of her seasons and entered hospice care, with an emphasis on pain control.  I understand the tears are selfish.  I will miss her smile, her quick laugh, her constant concern for her friends, and her ability to make a difference.  She was a phenomenal teacher and continues to teach me lessons...like how to retain dignity when confronted with challenges, like how to give to those around us, like how to recognize what lies in our best interests.  To know her is to love her...and respect her.  And I have to disagree with Mr. Thomas.  With any luck at all, my friend, I truly hope you can go gentle into that good night!  As for the rest of us, may we remember to tell the ones we love that we do.  I know, I do you.

Restoration

Nap.  Siesta.  Resting of the eyes.  Momentary pause.  40 winks.  Whatever you call it, I’m all for it!  It has been a busy day.  The kind I like.  Get things done.  Talk a little.  Play a little.  Pick and clean a little.  Cook a little.  Eat a lot!  And now, with a full belly and little on my mind, it’s time!  Find the recliner.  Put my feet up.  Turn on some idiotic offering on the boob tube.  Pretend to watch, as I slowly but surely become comatose!  Ah the regenerative power of the nap. When I awaken, I’m sure I’ll be ready to find my way to bed, completely relaxed and ready for a full night’s sleep.  There’s only one thing left to do before that.  You are loved, and I’m zzzzzzzzzoning out!

Work and memories

The transition from fall to winter is indeed a physical one. The garden has to be cleaned.  The apples have to be picked.  The lawn furniture has to be stored.  The fountain needs to be cleaned.  Pots need to be emptied.  Bulbs need to be dug.  Perennials need to be trimmed.  The hot tub needs a fresh fill.  The snow blower and lawn mower need to be switched.  The cars have to be winterized.  The furnace needs to be checked.  The supply of liquor for the freshly filled hot tub has to be surveyed.  Golf clubs need to return from their summer storage location.  And the amazing thing about this litany is it is simply that…a litany of things to do. It is NOT a complaint.  You see, to complain, I would have to find that any of these things was difficult or impossible for us to do.  Oh sure, the muscles suggest that it has been a while since we reversed this process in the spring.  The back is a little sore, the hips are a little sore, the knees are a little sore, but we can do it.  That means we are alive, and healthy, and mentally able.  As we “mature”, those things are all good! When I came in yesterday from the first day of chores, I removed my shirt for my shower and it smelled just like the sheets use to smell when mom hung them on the line and then put them on the bed just before I jumped in.  That freshness was amazing, and a trigger.  Tomorrow would have been mom’s 94^th birthday.  It doesn’t seem possible that she’s been dead that long.  Ms. Lucy stories still abound.  The things she taught those around her still resonate.  I see her in my sister.  I hear her in me.  And I miss her.  That’s why I’m not complaining.  You see, Ms. Loosewheel (we have several names for her!) would have loved to be doing what I have been doing!  Happy birthday mom.  I’ll hoist one in the newly filled hot tub in your memory!  And the rest of you, enjoy the fact that you can, and know you are loved!

The creature from

It was a dark and stormy night.  Okay.  It was a coldish South Dakota dawn, but who starts a horror story that way? Deep in the bowels of the earth (a really crappy place to be) a figure stirs.  Actually, it was the basement of 417 N. Broadway, but the descriptor at times is accurate.  Dressed from head to toe in brilliant orange, this creature slowly ascends the stairs, hands filled with offering plates.  Gods must be appeased!  In the area, mothers hide their children and fathers hide their beer!  It’s that time of the year again. Elmer Fudge rides!  Rooster Rush is a South Dakota promotion to welcome hunters to the area.  In Watertown, a contest is held each year to determine which businesses best exemplify the use of orange, the projection of theme, and employee participation.  Elmer Fudge is the judge (how rhymingly apropos) and carries with him plates of fudge for the winners.  Likewise, as part of his shyness therapy group, Elmer poses with the contestants at each business.  Where else can a senior citizen be surrounded by bevies of beauties without getting into trouble?  At the end of the day, the orange stocking cap emblazoned Elmer Fudge will be retired for yet another year.  The orange tennis shoes that only sort of fit will adorn the shoe rack.  The orange sweat pants will perhaps see wear during the winter, and the orange t-shirt, fleece, and vest will remain in use during the up-coming season!  But the creature within will return to the bowels to hibernate until next year!  Before he slips into relative obscurity again, he sends to you his best “boo!”, and a reminder that you are loved!