Anticipation

Our nearby aquarium is a place I’ve wanted to revisit for many, many years. A trip was my birthday wish and I was willing to wait for a new exhibit. It’s scheduled to open later this next month.

I forgot my chosen date falls in late April. ~sigh~ However, I had picked the least busy weekday and earliest time slot to avoid both crowds while also saving some money. Loads of children are painfully noisy and also heat up the space unbearably.

My dear husband not only came through with this gift, earning my silly happy dance that morning, he also recalled the proper date. Fingers crossed, traffic through Cincinnati won’t be terrible that day.

This is a cool place...

Do you enjoy watching aquatic life? Have you ever walked through such a tunnel?

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Long Overdue - A Glimpse of Upcoming Spring

Every day I think about my friends in the blogosphere and intend to both comment and post something myself. On the bright side, I have been busy preparing for the gardening season. Seedlings for some peppers and tomatoes have been started downstairs on a heated seedling mat while lettuce seeds are outside in a container (fingers cossed) and I shall soon sow some carrot seeds.

These crocus blooms have faded
already, replaced by daffodils...

I am, of course, so sad about all those devastated by tornadoes and high winds. We are blessed that Ohio has thus far been spared, not to mention being insolated from the countless horrors people bring upon one another every day. ~sigh~ So, I hope my simple photo at least brightens your day.

Did you know that carrots are notoriously difficult to grow? Can you believe one of the tomato seeds has sprouted in just a few short days?

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Outrageous Winds, Minor Crummy Luck – & – Deranged Behavior

In my mid thirties, I briefly weighed 112 pounds, or just under 51 kilograms. While my guy then begged me to stop losing weight and keep myself around 118 or more, Wednesday’s wind would have knocked me off my feet. This day it pushed my fat body across the parking lot.

Once I returned home my husband told me he heard our pellet grill blown off the back deck. I disentangled the mess and can only hope it will be safe to use. We shall see.

On Tuesday I went swimming. Near the end of my laps, the female lifeguard bent down to me saying, “Ma’am, I promise you’ll want to get out of the pool now.”

I’d witnessed a strange exchange between a sketchy looking guest and the male lifeguard. The guest left, then returned, and I saw a call being made. As it turned out, this persistent swimmer defecated in the pool. I can only imagine his nasty act stemmed from mental illness.

I informed another swimmer and soon after warned two women entering the area. To lighten the mood, I added, “Fingers crossed, it’s just a candy bar.” The women knew this old movie scene and laughed, much to my delight.

Are you familiar with this relevant film reference? Either way, have you seen the flick “Caddy Shack”?

Another Look at the Bright Side

It’s a sorry fact that my husband has little interest in exercise of any sort. On the bright side, this and his love of food make negotiating easy. For example, he recently agreed to meet family an hour and a half away because it meant tasty German food.

On the flip side, his cute big eyes and adorable whiny mantra almost swayed me to drive him to our car’s oil change appointment. He offered lunch. Much less food orientated, I asked him to sweeten the deal. He asked what I wanted.

I requested a walk. We didn’t even set a place or precise date. Yet suddenly, now he’d resolved to drive himself. So I stayed home and cooked a big pot of stew.

Not an image of mine, but this recipe looks amazing...

Is there anything better than warm soup on cold days? Do you have a favorite comfort food?

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Looking at the Bright Side

Stepping outside Friday morning I witnessed a neighbor fall after politely shooing a dog next door. He almost landed on his face. I jogged over but, seeing blood gush from his right calf, I panicked and asked if his wife, a surgical nurse, was home. She had gone out.

Knowing he was on blood thinners, I dashed into their home searching fruitlessly for something to staunch the flow and ran back out asking what I should do. Less stunned now, he calmly told me where to find medical supplies before suggesting I just bring out a roll of paper towels. I returned with both but stood shaking and useless, offering little more than a hug.

Just days prior a doctor removed fourteen staples after a freak accident (he’d been walking around the foot of his bed!), gouged open that exact area. I’m ashamed to have done nothing much but stand there yesterday, eyes averted from the wound, when I should have called his wife. I didn’t know she would soon return.

Lucky for us both she did and charged over shouting, “What are you doing? What are you doing?” I can only imagine how angry the whole situation and especially that careless neighbor’s junk pile made her.

What stands out to me is how calm he stayed, complaining about ruining a good pair of jeans and kindly telling me to stop shaking. He even apologized to the scrap collector for bleeding on her driveway. This morning he sent a text message thanking me for my caring concern and love.

I need to share this with the neighbors, a lucky photo taken earlier this week...

 

Can you believe what appeared to be a catastrophic wound required just six stitches? And isn’t it funny this very same neighbor, in a dream last night, said his wife would provide me first aid training? -

A Dying Daughter’s Final Days with Her Single Father - I Have Nothing Else to Say

Memories

Sharing on his blog about how different cultures dry their clean clothes, Andrew reminded me of helping my beloved maternal Grandma at the clothesline. It’s neat that Andrew and I shared similar childhood chores despite living on different continents.

Now I can almost envision Grandma’s old fashioned washer. It had a ringer, two rollers squeezing water from garments one at a time versus our modern spin cycle. I don’t recall if this was all electric or hand cranked.

An Older Model, for Sure;
Thanks go to the stock photographer

Strayer’s comment reminded me of Grandpa’s opinion of cut flowers. While I don’t begrudge folks who regularly enjoy flower bouquets, seeing blooms thrive on their living stems is my personal preference. Obviously, I make exceptions. ~sheepish grin~ This brings a very specific story to mind.

One summer, a neighbor girl insisted on harvesting some of Grandpa’s flowers. Her boorish nature weakened my timid protests. My grandfather emerged from the house spouting righteous indignation.

I burst into tears. What’s her name ran home.

After her shamed retreat my Grandpa expressed sorrow. He never blamed me but knew favoring his granddaughter could, as we would term it today, exacerbate a toxic relationship. My love for him grew even stronger that distant day.

How do you launder your clothes? Can you imagine trekking to a river with a washboard and clothes basket like so many hardworking souls (past and present) around the world?

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Every Rose Has its Thorn

I went to the grocery store the other day to snag some relatively inexpensive half gallons of milk. The limit of five has restocked my freezer. That and some fresh produce were my main goals but I couldn’t resist the plethora of flower bouquets marked down following St. Valentine’s Day.

My husband approved my purchase since my birthday was a few days earlier and I asked for nothing special...

They aren’t as fragrant as those I recall from the 1980’s. In addition, a lot of petals landed on the floor while the thorny, dry woody stems made trimming them a chore. While roses are much cheaper now, I’d be angry if my full price bouquet rotted in under a week.

Do you purchase cut flowers? If so, did you know that a slanted knife cut allows the stems better water absorption than a scissor's pinch?
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