It takes 2-3 weeks to receive the official copy of the title for a new car in Missouri these days, so Ted and I went back to the dealer a few days ago to pick up the title for my new car. While we were at the dealer, I walked over to the “trophy wall” (as I call it) to see if our picture was included. It was.

That’s our salesman, Scott, standing on the right side of the “I ♥ Spirit Lexus” sign.

When we go back for the 5,000 mile free maintenance visit, I’ll check to see how long they keep these photos on display. After all, that countertop has a finite length.

In February 1999, I bought my first car—a red Toyota Celica.  I loved that car! (Sorry about the photo quality. It’s a 25-year-old Polaroid print.)

Of course, Ted and I have shopped for and bought cars together since we were married, but we always needed a car for him to drive to work and one in which our entire family could sit.  Even after I began working, I was the one who drove the “family” car.  The Celica was the first car I ever picked out just for me–and titled in my name!  It was pretty exciting to finally buy a car for myself, and the Celica had a stick shift, heated seats, a moonroof, and a 6-disc CD changer. Whoo-ee!

Twelve years later, in April 2011, I traded my red Celica for a red Lexus IS-C.  That’s for “Intelligent Sport Convertible.”  I loved that car. It had such a nice ride that, even on long road trips, Ted and I didn’t feel stiff or ach-y after hours of driving. It had heated and cooled seats, navigation, Bluetooth, and SiriusXM.

The #1 fun factor of my IS-C was the power convertible top.  It was fun to watch and a bit amazing to see how the car top and rear window fit in the trunk and still left room for other things within the cargo net space.  If people were passing by while I put the top up or down, at least one of them would stop to watch and then make a comment to me about how awesome that was.

Thirteen years later, in August 2024, I parted with my red IS-C and bought a red Lexus RC F Sport.  I love this car!  (There’s a pattern in my cars.)  The “RC” stands for “Radical Coupé” and the “F” is for “Fuji Raceway.”  One reviewer begged to differ, saying that the “F” is for “fun, fast, and ferocious.”  That works for me. 

The fun factors in this car include all the new technology (including a touch screen), incredibly comfortable bucket seats that wrap around the occupants, heated and cooled seats and a heated steering wheel, cornering lights, headlight cleaners, de-icing windshield wipers, a moonroof (again), and a low-slung, sporty look.  Ted says he’ll be able to reach more than halfway across the top when it’s time for him to wash it.  Unbelievably, although it’s far sportier than my IS-C, the ride is even smoother and quieter.  And then there’s the F Sport engine that has a discrete growl rather than a near-silent purr. 

I had no complaints about my IS-C–in fact, we never repaired the IS-C because nothing ever broke–I just wanted to ride in something different after 13 years. Although the convertible was loads of fun, the car handled more like a sedan than my Celica—and remember that I loved my Celica.  The RC combines the best of both worlds:  the Lexus luxuries with what some of the reviews call “aggressive” styling.  I went from this . . .

. . . to this.

As I walked into the garage on the third day I had my RC, my car’s name popped into my head.  It’s “Gigi” because I’m a Great-Grandmother (G. G.) and the name Gigi is a perfect fit.

Ted and I celebrate our birthdays and our wedding anniversary at Bentley’s every year. Ted says their grilled salmon is the best he’s ever tasted (he orders it frequently), and I love their pepper steak (which few restaurants even offer). The meal is always worth the 2.5-hour drive each way. We’ve become well-acquainted with the owner over the years, and we have a favorite server.

We belatedly celebrated our 55th wedding anniversary at Bentley’s in July and, as usual, we asked for one of Merrill’s tables. This time, Merrill had some news for us: (1) he thinks he’s going to retire within the year; and (2) Bill, the owner, had a stroke, so he no longer greets guests at the door, although he still oversees the kitchen. Merrill thought Bill’s condition might improve enough for him to greet guests in the future.

We had our usual delicious meal and finished with our favorite desserts. I like Bentley’s nice, thick whipped cream-topped grasshoppers, and Ted loves “The Thing”–an ice cream sundae with walnuts, strawberries, and a hard chocolate coating, topped with whipped cream.

Ted’s birthday will be here soon, and we’ll be back at Bentley’s to celebrate it.

My birthday was a few months ago, while I took a break from blogging. I found the photos tonight, and they gave me the opportunity to re-live an enjoyable evening. Kari’s family came to our house bearing gifts for me from them and from Kathy and Annette. Kari has been trying some deep-water exercise classes at the Y, and thought I’d enjoy some water equipment to exercise in our pool, so the two families bought some for me.

First, a weight belt so that I can be upright in the deep end of the pool to do leg exercises.

Then barbells to exercise my arms while I’m upright in the deep water.

And finally, a water bottle sling I wanted so that I can walk without carrying my water bottle in my hand.

I always have fun on my birthday–not because of the gifts, but because of the people I spend time with and the good times we have together.

This car was parked beside mine. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a nicer message on a car sticker.

It reminded me of a quote I found in a book recently.

When you have the choice of being right or being kind, choose kind.

American philosopher, Dr. Wayne W. Dyer.

I didn’t start playing Wordle right away, but I loved it the first time I tried it, and I’ve been playing it ever since. In March, I saw an article online that said the longest winning streak was 968. According to the article, the average number of tries to solve Wordle is four, and that’s true for me as well. I don’t try to guess the word before starting. I just play to solve the puzzle, not to solve it in x number of tries, so I don’t care if it takes all six tries to do it.

My statistics are a little skewed because I started playing before The New York Times bought the game, but according to the current online chart, I’ve solved one puzzle in 2 tries (lucky); 133 puzzles in 3 tries (which, according to the article, takes “skill, finesse, and intellect”); 222 puzzles in 4 tries (average); 145 puzzles in 5 tries (whew!); and 38 puzzles in 6 tries (nerve-wracking). I frequently solve the puzzle in under 30 seconds, but there have been a few puzzles I had to set aside for a few hours before taking a fresh look at them to “see” the word that will fit. Wordle now offers hints, but I don’t use them–that would spoil the fun.

I’m disappointed in my streak record. Twice, NYT has ended my streak when I clearly remember playing the previous day. The longest streak they give me credit for is 457 days, which isn’t shabby. There’s no trophy for the longest streak, so no big worries there. At least they don’t mess with my 100 percent solving success record!

I keep a running record of my solutions, which comes in handy when there are multiple possible words that fit (prune/prone, crush/crash, terse/tense, etc.) and only a limited number of tries to choose the right one. I’m amazed at the number of five-letter words in the English language.

How long is it until midnight when tomorrow’s puzzle will be released?

Do you ever think about how many things are arranged in alphabetic order? In many instances, this arrangement keeps things orderly and makes them easy to find, but does alphabetic order ever seem unfair to you when your turn in line is determined by the first letter of your last name? I’ll guess that if your last name begins with a letter in the first part of the alphabet, your answer is “no.” My last name began closer to the end of the alphabet, so my answer is “yes.”

I attended a small, rural, two-room elementary school. Depending on the year, there were 50-60 students in eight grades, with grades 1-4 in one room and grades 5-8 in the other. Our school had two small libraries consisting of three shelves that stretched across the back of each classroom. The libraries included a full set of encyclopedias and several dictionaries, so that diminished the space available for recreational reading materials during one’s four years in that classroom. Because this was true of so many schools in our largely rural county, the county provided a “traveling library.” The county school superintendent and his/her assistant made the rounds of all the rural schools every two weeks to exchange packing boxes filled with about 30 books. In a round-robin pattern, each classroom in each school exchanged its current box of books for a box with a different selection of books that came from a different school.

I have always loved to read and I finish books quickly, so I was always impatient and eager for the traveling library to bring a new box of books to our school. Unfortunately for me, my teacher believed that the fairest way to distribute the new books while keeping order in the classroom was to allow a few students at a time to make their one-book selection. This was done in alphabetic order, always beginning with the “A’s.” I lived in an area of Dutchmen, many of whose names began with De-capital letter-remainder of last name, such as DeBlaey, DeMaster, etc., and my last name began with “S.” Those early-alpha kids always had the first pick of the traveling library books and I was always in the last group to make a selection. The traveling library rules said that when you finished reading the book you selected, you put it back into the box and then had the option to choose a different book from the box. The early-alpha kids frequently failed to finish their selected books in the two-week exchange period, so their selections didn’t make it back to the box until the exchange day, and I rarely had a chance to read everything I wanted to read.

Alphabetically, things changed for me when I enrolled in a large university (35,000 students). Class enrollment was open for several days each semester, and was available in alphabetic order. Naturally, those who were in the first alphabetic group were nearly always able to enroll in whichever course/day/time they chose while those in the last group usually had to make some course/day/time adjustments. BUT, the alphabetic groups changed order each semester. I don’t remember the exact groupings, but if, for example, A-G had first choice this semester, they moved to the #3 spot the following semester; group H-P moved to #1; and Q-Z moved to #2. In this way, once every three semesters, everyone had a chance to be first, second, or third in course selection. What could be more fair while still maintaining order and a manageable number of students enrolling at a given time? There may be other entities that do this, but I’ve never encountered or heard of them, so this was a happy revelation to me as a college freshman, and it’s certainly more fair than always giving the “A’s” first choice and the “Z’s” last choice.

I recently read that the double-space at the end of a sentence is no longer the rule in typing. I assume that’s because electronic devices automatically insert a single space following a period, and it’s easier to change the rule than to fight the power of all the electronic devices.

I, however, learned to type a long time ago and was taught the double-space protocol. How long ago? Well, because I was such a fast typist (I have a high school award pin for “Fastest Typist”), I was assigned to one of the three new electric typewriters in our high school typing classroom. Woo-ee! In fact, at that time, only the IBM Selectric typewriter with the letter ball in place of individual keys could keep up with me without getting tangled. After all these years, tapping the space bar twice at the end of a sentence is so automatic for me that it slows me down to have to remember to tap it only once or to go back and delete the extra space. I’m just going to continue tapping the space bar twice after each sentence I type and let the electronic devices do their thing.

If you’re checking for double spaces after periods in this post, you won’t find them because, even though I tap the space bar twice, WordPress autocorrects me and uses only a single space. The exception is if I compose something in Word (or another format) and copy it to WordPress to post.

You can’t fight the power of big media, and you can’t fight a long-term and harmless habit either. Let’s hear it for double-spacing at the end of a sentence!

P.S. My “Fastest Typist” pin said “70 wpm” but I typed faster than that. The pins weren’t available for any speed above 70 wpm.

Every year, the Missouri Botanical Garden offers a holiday light display called “Garden Glow.” Ted and I decided we should experience it before the lights were turned off on January 6. It was a calm, crisp January evening and we had a beautiful holiday walk in the park (literally).

Everything seems to eventually become an abbreviation these days, and this event was no exception. At the entrance to the garden, the decorators assumed “Garden” and simply announced the display as “Glow.” All of the light displays were prettier than the pictures. In addition, pretty instrumental music played softly throughout the garden all the while we walked.

From a distance, this looked like a wall of hanging lights. As we came closer, we saw that it was a number of individual large trees with strings of lights hanging from their branches.

This display changed color every few seconds.

The Botanical Garden has a hedge maze all year, and it was decorated with lights for the holidays. Past experience has taught me that I get claustrophobic and panicky in mazes, so I avoid them. In this case, I figured it couldn’t be too bad to walk through it because the building where I stood to take the photo on the right was at the entrance, and I could always see it from within the maze. All I had to do to get out was head toward that building. It worked. Ted and I walked through the maze and I could always see which direction to go to get out. The downside was that there were no visible shortcuts, so it took a long time to navigate the twists and turns to get to the exit. It was fun to be wandering between walls of holiday lights with other people also working their way through the maze.

These tree displays also changed colors every few seconds. No matter which color they were, the lights were beautiful.

A projector decorated this building differently about every 30 seconds. We watched for almost twenty minutes, and didn’t see a repeated projection, so we walked on.

This was my favorite display. The picture looks a little eerie, but the blue lights on the huge tree had a magical quality in person. I almost expected to see Christmas fairies.

It was a beautiful winter night and there were fire bowls and refreshment stands with warm beverages throughout the park. Ted and I were dressed warmly and had a wonderful time. Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night.

Over the years, when I’ve checked into various places, I’ve discovered that there are other women with the same first and last names as mine. One time, I asked the check-in person how many other people shared my name on her list and she said, “Five.” Just the other day, I asked again and the registrar said, “Eight.” Wow!

When my kids were little, I took Jeff to the pediatrician for something or other, and the nurse needed clarification about which Diane and Jeff we were because there was another mother who shared my name and had a son named Jeff. During a recent (flattering) check-in experience, the check-in lady asked me to re-verify my birthdate. I told her I know there are other women with the same name as mine, but I didn’t know I shared a birthdate with any of them. “Oh, no,” she said, “you don’t. You just didn’t look that old.” 🙂

In all the time I’ve known about these name doppelgangers, I’ve never met one until (drum roll, please) my last haircut appointment. When I checked in, the check-in lady asked if I was with Donna or Michelle (the stylists). I said “Donna.” She replied that her computer showed me scheduled with Michelle. Then she noticed that I was listed with both Donna and Michelle. At that moment, another woman spoke up and said she had an appointment with Michelle, and we all realized that the other woman and I had the same first and last names.

Here I am with my name twin. We were seated in side-by-side chairs while we waited for Donna and Michelle, so we chatted with each other and decided we should have a photo of ourselves. You can see Donna and Michelle in the mirror behind us. Donna is taking the picture.

Today, there was serendipity at the salon.

Ted and I were part of the Barbenheimer crowd: we saw the movies “Oppenheimer” and “Barbie.” Technically, I think a true Barbenheimer watches the movies as a double feature on the same day; Ted and I watched them on two consecutive days. There is controversy over which film to watch first/second. We went to “Oppenheimer” first and saved “Barbie” for dessert to end the double feature on a lighthearted note.

Both films have received widespread acclaim and we enjoyed both of them. Neither film was what I expected to see. I expected “Oppenheimer” to be a World War II movie ending with the atomic bombs dropping on Hiroshima and Nagasaki, and I thought “Barbie” would be pure fluff. I was wrong about both movies.

“Oppenheimer” was indeed set during World War II, but its underlying message (to me, at least) was the two moral dilemmas scientists and decision-makers face: (1) When science makes new discoveries, how far should it go if the results can be used for either good (cancer cures, exploration of the solar system, energy production) or evil (total destruction of our planet); and (2) Is the greater good (ending World War II and saving thousands of lives) worth great sacrifice (dropping the atomic bomb and taking thousands of lives)? I found this a very thought-provoking movie and the three hours in the theater went by quickly.

My first “Barbie” surprise came before the movie even started: there was a nearly equal number of men and women in the theater. I’m pretty sure Ted only came along because I wanted to see the movie (I did not wear anything pink), but he enjoyed it too. Those two hours also passed quickly. Rather than being portrayed as a dumb blonde, Barbie had many identities including President Barbie, Writer Barbie, Physicist Barbie, Doctor Barbie, Lawyer Barbie, etc., etc. Ken, on the other hand, was “just Ken.” As the movie tagline put it: “She’s everything. He’s just Ken.” Ken, however, didn’t care and was content with himself and with being an appendage of Barbie. The movie definitely had a feminist dynamic. In the real world, as opposed to Barbie-land, women are taught that having everything is impossible without compromise, and the point of the movie was summed up in America Ferrara’s monologue (below) which can be found online.

It is literally impossible to be a woman. You are so beautiful, and so smart, and it kills me that you don’t think you’re good enough. Like, we have to always be extraordinary, but somehow we’re always doing it wrong.

You have to be thin but not too thin. And you can never say you want to be thin. You have to say you want to be healthy, but also you have to be thin. You have to have money, but you can’t ask for money because that’s crass. You have to be a boss, but you can’t be mean. You have to lead, but you can’t squash other people’s ideas. You’re supposed to love being a mother, but don’t talk about your kids all the damn time. You have to be a career woman but also always be looking out for other people. You have to answer for men’s bad behavior, which is insane, but if you point that out, you’re accused of complaining. You’re supposed to stay pretty for men, but not so pretty that you tempt them too much or that you threaten other women because you’re supposed to be a part of the sisterhood.

But always stand out and always be grateful. But never forget that the system is rigged. So find a way to acknowledge that but also always be grateful. You have to never get old, never be rude, never show off, never be selfish, never fall down, never fail, never show fear, never get out of line.

It’s too hard! It’s too contradictory and nobody gives you a medal or says thank you! And it turns out in fact that not only are you doing everything wrong, but also everything is your fault.

I’m just so tired of watching myself and every single other woman tie herself into knots so that people will like us. And if all of that is also true for a doll just representing women, than I don’t even know.

Oscars have been mentioned for both movies, and (again, in my opinion) both are Oscar nomination worthy.

In 1985, after the Sunday church service, one of our members spoke to the congregation about an upcoming ballot issue–establishing a community college in St. Charles County. I was surrounded by my four young children and not employed at that time, but I remember thinking, “By the time they get a college started, I’ll be ready to work there.”

At first, the college met in a variety of rented buildings loosely called “the east campus” and “the west campus” because of their relative locations to each other. On January 6, 1992, the first three buildings of the permanent college campus were dedicated, and Ted and I attended the dedication. I was one of three lucky people to win in the drawing for a college poster. It features the college logo, the date, and the artist’s signature–David O’Dell, a member of the fledgling college Marketing Department. My poster is numbered 25/145.

My dream came true and I worked at St. Charles Community College for 20 years. I had my poster framed and it hung first in my own office and then, as my Adult Education Program grew to more than a staff of one (me), in our Adult Education office suite. I took it home when I retired, but it’s not really a “home” kind of picture, so I called the current marketing director to ask if she’d like to hang it somewhere on the campus. She enthusiastically said “yes.” I delivered it to her and she and I had a nice catch-up visit. (We knew each other from before I retired.) She said my poster is in such good condition, she’s going to hang it in the Marketing Department office. That’s a perfect place for it, and much nicer than my basement.

Kari and I made our second annual joint trip to the library’s book fair last weekend. It was the second day of the three-day event and the books were already pretty well picked over. Next year, Kari and I plan to be at the fair on the first day, but we both had commitments for that day this year. Even so, I managed to find 40 new books at bargain prices–$2 for hardcover books and 50¢ for paperbacks. That’s less than the price of 3 new hardcover books–and the purchase price counts as a donation to the library, so it’s tax-deductible. What a deal!

Last year, I wasn’t adequately prepared. I brought a large tote bag and stuffed it with as many books as I could carry–15. This year, I brought a rolling cart and 3 large tote bags. I filled the cart, but didn’t need the bags.

My next problem was finding a place to put the books. We emptied a lot of shelves when we had our rooms painted and carpeted last fall, so I stashed my new-to-me books on some of those empty shelves.

I usually read one or two books every week. At one bargain book per week, I have enough to last almost until the August 2024 book fair. For me, that’s part of livin’ the good life.

I’ve been very sick for nearly three weeks. As a result, I’ve also been very inactive, and my self-improvement goals have been set aside. I haven’t exercised or played my piano since I started feeling ill. I’d been doing almost an hour a day toward each goal: exercising, playing piano, and studying Spanish with other family members on the Duolingo app.

I didn’t have enough energy to play piano or to exercise, but I was close to a 100-day streak on Duolingo, and I wanted to make it to the 100-day mark. No matter how badly I felt, I did one Spanish lesson each day (5-10 minutes), just to keep my streak alive. I didn’t learn much. I felt so awful, it was hard to concentrate, and sometimes I lost three or four hearts on a single 10-12 question lesson. (Each error costs one heart. If you lose five hearts, you’re locked out until the hearts refill over a period of hours.) I’ll have to re-do that entire unit when I feel better so I can learn the new vocabulary words, but I kept my streak alive.

My weekly report from Duolingo noted my decreased activity on the app over the first two weeks of my illness.

Duolingo wasn’t happy about that, and the app took action. I was close to promotion to the next league, but I lost that opportunity and was demoted to a lower league.

The cheerful (?) “Better luck next time” wasn’t exactly heartwarming. Is this what I get for working to keep my streak alive, even when no me siento bien (I don’t feel well)?

It’s fun to know that other family members are also learning Spanish with Duolingo, and I generally enjoy the app, but I would prefer learning with in-person classmates and a classroom teacher. My Duolingo goal is not to have the longest streak, the most extra points, or the highest rank. My goal is to learn a lot of vocabulary and then to take a continuing education Spanish class next fall or winter to work on grammatical constructions and to practice speaking with a group of like-minded students.

I’m not heartbroken about my Duolingo demotion, but after I reach 100 consecutive days of using Duolingo (four to go), I’m not going to worry about another streak. I have a life, and even God took a day off! 🙂

We’ve had weekly abrupt and extreme weather changes in April, and that’s never a good thing for my allergies. Temperature changes of 30+ degrees within 24 hours tend to trigger laryngitis for me, so I’m very diligent about taking my allergy medications when that happens. Sometimes, though, diligence isn’t enough.

On March 26, my throat started getting sore. “Uh-oh!” I thought. “I’m going to get laryngitis.” I was wrong. My throat kept getting worse until it felt like ground glass, and I couldn’t stop coughing. Ted took me to Urgent Care, where I was diagnosed with strep throat and bronchitis. I was treated with a steroid injection, a breathing treatment, and prescriptions for prednisone and amoxicillin.

I felt a little better the next day, but by evening, I coughed so hard for over an hour that it was difficult to catch my breath. It was late at night (of course), so Ted took me to the ER. The diagnosis was the same, with the hypothesis that the strep throat germs had migrated from my throat to my lungs, triggering the bronchitis. I was given a breathing treatment and sent home with a prescription for a nebulizer so that I could do breathing treatments at home to open my airways and, hopefully, calm the coughing.

Again, I felt a little better in the morning, but over the next three days, I kept getting worse and the coughing just wouldn’t stop, in spite of the nebulizer treatments. For the third time in five days, Ted took me for treatment. It was past midnight, so we went to the ER again. Looking at my previous treatments over the last few days, as well as my current condition, the ER staff decided to get aggressive. This time, they gave me an hour-long breathing treatment with five medications in it, including one to calm my lungs and another to reduce the swelling in my bronchial tubes. Simultaneously, they gave me five other medications through an IV, including two different antibiotics and a stronger version of prednisone. There was talk of admitting me to the hospital but, instead, they just kept us there for several more hours to see if the medications stabilized me. At 6:30 a.m., they sent me home with five prescriptions for more prednisone, two more antibiotics, a cough suppressant, and a painkiller because my ribs were so sore from coughing for six days.

The ER staff told me my coughing would be less painful if I held a pillow against my ribs when I coughed. That really helped and I found the perfect pillow at home. It fit under my arm and I could hold it tightly over my ribs. My mom made this pillow a long time ago (1980s?), which just goes to show that your mom keeps looking after you, even when she’s no longer physically present. Thanks, Mom.

I followed up the ER treatments with a visit to my allergist two days later because the coughing was not improving. He looked over my reports from Urgent Care and from the ER, reviewed the test and x-ray results, and looked at all the medications, treatments and prescriptions I’d been given. Then he turned to me and said, “With all of this in you, you will get better,” although he admitted it’s going to take some time. His prescription (yes, another medication) was a game-changer: an inhaler with three ingredients. He said my lungs had become so sensitive from the bronchitis that I was coughing spontaneously from the irritation. The inhaler would calm my lungs and reduce the bronchial swelling. My coughing improved after the first dose of the inhaler. For the first time in eleven days, I had an evening without a 60-90 minute coughing spell. What a relief!

Even though the coughing was finally under control, I continued to feel worse every day for another three days–14 days of feeling worse each day–before I started to feel as though the medications were finally winning the fight. For eleven consecutive nights, I hadn’t slept more than 3-5 hours because of the coughing. The lack of sleep, the constant coughing, and the rib pain left me totally exhausted. There were many times when I just sat still because I didn’t have enough energy to read a book or to watch TV.

It’s been 25 days since I first noticed my sore throat, and I’m still not back to normal. Although I no longer feel sick, my energy level is very low (nearly nonexistent) and, even though I’m sleeping 7-8 hours at night now, I still take a long nap every day. My allergist wants me to continue taking the inhaler for two more weeks, and I think it will probably be at least another week (hopefully not two weeks) before I feel more like my normal self. This is getting old, and I choose to interpret that feeling as a sign that I’m getting well.

Guess what: there’s another big temperature change coming tomorrow. Today’s high was 88 degrees, tomorrow will be around 80 degrees, and after the cold front comes through tomorrow night (with possible severe storms), there’s a frost advisory in our forecast. I’ll be staying indoors.

I posted this little bit of trivia in late 2019 on this blog and found it again while I was searching for something else. In summary, it says that, in 2019, everyone in the world is in the same age group–2019, the current year at the time. Simply add your age to your birth year to prove it. The description makes this little calculation sound really special by telling us that such a world-wide coincidence will not happen again for 1,000 years.

Just for fun, I wondered what number I’d get if I added my age and birth year today, four years later. Surprise! The total was 2023–the current year. As I briefly pondered this minor conundrum, my mind was almost immediately struck by a (figuratively) brightly-flashing light bulb and filled with a (figuratively) giant-size “duh!” For everyone in the world, the year you were born plus your current age always equals the current year. That’s how the math works.

Who would ever have dreamed you can’t believe everything you see on Facebook??!! The good news (?) is that we don’t have to wait 1,000 years for this coincidence to reoccur. I feel like I should check to see if gullible is still in the dictionary.

Ted and I both attended the University of Wisconsin-Madison (lucky for us, because that’s where we met), and for an unknown and mysterious reason, I was recently thinking about our college school songs. During half-time at every football game, the UW band and cheerleaders led the sell-out crowd (±23,000 more seats than the GB Packers’ Lambeau Field at that time*) to sing “On Wisconsin,” the fight song (also the state song); “If You Want to Be a Badger,” an up-beat song; and “Varsity,” a hymn-like song of praise to UW. The internet knows everything, so I looked up the songs to find the lyrics and put my curious mind at ease.

Of course, “On, Wisconsin” is kind of obligatory–after all, it’s the University of Wisconsin in Wisconsin–but it has a good march tempo for a school song.

“If You Want to Be a Badger” is a peppy song and fun to sing. It revs up the crowd. There are four or five verses, which we usually didn’t sing at the games. Only the line–“If you want to be a Badger, just…da da da da da” changes with each verse.

The history of “Varsity” surprised me. I never heard or thought about it while I was in college, but it’s something to be appreciated.

It was a sight to behold 76,000 fans singing with the arm movements, and I do fondly remember these lyrics. The “famous arm swinging” refers to everyone raising their right arm to the left at the start of each line, then slowly moving it to the right for the last half of the first line, then slowly back to the left to begin the next line, and so on, keeping it in constant motion. The tempo is slow, and it’s actually a kind of moving thing to be there and to participate.** After that, however, it’s on with the game.

Ah, those were good days!

*Since our college days, both stadiums have been renovated to include more seating and both are still sell-outs for every football game. Lambeau Field now seats 80,978 fans, and Camp Randall now has seating for 80,321 fans.

**You can find videos of fans singing “Varsity” on YouTube, but you won’t get the in-person emotional experience of actually participating.

Ted knows how much I love spring. I love it so much, that I count December 22 as the first day of spring. It’s the day after the winter solstice when the days begin getting longer.

Ted loves me so much that, to help me celebrate spring, he buys me a pot of spring bulbs as soon as they are available. He’s picky in his selection–he looks for the pot with the most closed buds so that my joy in watching them open will last as long as possible. This year, he brought me pink tulips.

❤❤❤

Self-improvement. Can it become too much of a good thing?

Right now, I’m practicing on my (untouched for years) piano; learning Spanish; and working my way back into great physical shape after two months of minimal physical activity following foot surgery late last fall. I became involved in these three activities simultaneously in a variety of ways.

Piano. As Ted and were moving furniture from room to room for our interior house update and getting rid of things we no longer wanted to keep, I looked at my piano and made a decision: I would either get back to playing it regularly within the next six months, or I would get rid of it. There’s no point in keeping it just to have something to dust.

Spanish. I’ve always thought it would be great to speak a second language. I took German for three years in high school and in college, but there are few (if any) opportunities to use it in the middle of the U.S. When our older son decided to learn Spanish online, he invited family members to join him and to support each other as a group. Quite a few of us, including me, accepted his invitation. Maybe when Ted and I are in Barcelona later this year, I’ll have an opportunity to speak with someone and to say, “¡Hola! Mucho gusto. Yo hablos español.”

Exercise. Daily physical activity and exercise have always been a part of my life. After being off my feet for two months following my foot surgery, it was discouraging that I didn’t feel strong, and that my range of motion and flexibility were greatly reduced. Use it or lose it, right?

When I started these activities six weeks ago, my goals were 30 minutes of piano, 15 minutes of Spanish lessons, and 30 minutes of exercise daily. In reality, I’m spending about an hour each day on each of the three activities because I’m enjoying every one of them. That’s three hours of my day 6-7 days each week for self-improvement activities. Is that a good lifestyle or too much of a good thing? Either way, I’m having fun with all of them.

To keep your brain healthy, research says we need to keep trying new challenges. Our brains need exercise just as much as our muscles do. My exercise routine will take care of my muscles, and the Spanish and piano work will help my brain. To prove it, La sent me this.

Wow! Who (except La) knew that piano playing involved all of this?! If I add my Spanish lessons and my exercise routine, my brain and body are getting a total workout every day. Good for me!

It’s been nearly 25 years since Ted and I re-furbed/freshened our house and we’re getting tired of the same old look. It’s time for a change. We both lack decorating skills, so we hired an interior designer to help us make some decisions. I mentioned to the designer that we have very little display space. Her suggestion was to get rid of some of the books and use those shelves as display space. “Gasp!” thought I. “Blasphemy!”

Books are not made for furniture, but there is nothing else that so beautifully furnishes a house.

Henry Ward Beecher

I cannot get rid of my books, but if I add up all the empty space on my shelves, I might be able to clear two shelves in the family room for display and still have space to add new books. We’ll see. Or I can forget about displaying things and stick with the books. With that said, when Kari called to ask if I’d like to go to the library book fair with her and Teddy, I immediately said “yes.”

I cannot live without books.

Thomas Jefferson

The library has not had one of its three-day book fairs since 2019 (before COVID), and they had so many books, they had to move the event from the Convention Center to the Family Arena. Professional sporting events and medium-name concerts take place in the arena, so it’s huge. There are four different gates to accommodate four simultaneous indoor events and the library used only one venue space. The parking lot was nearly half-full and it looked like Elvis might be in the building. (Or maybe someone else–Elvis would have filled the entire building.)

I came prepared with my largest carry-all bag, but I saw immediately that I was an amateur. A number of folks brought wagons or rolling file boxes. I might do that next year.

But that was still only medium level prep for book purchasing. These two came with dollies and four large packing cartons each. I won’t do that next year.

The Book Fair opened at 9:00 a.m. for a limited group of library friends and members; after 12:00 p.m., entry was free and open to everyone. Kari, Teddy, and I met at the gate at 12:30 p.m. and were given maps to guide our browsing. Hardbacks were $2.00, over-sized paperbacks were $1.00, and paperbacks were $0.50. What a deal!

The floor space within the outlined area on the map below was large enough for an official indoor soccer, football, hockey, etc. game (audience seating is outside that area) and the entire floor was covered with tables that were, in turn, completely covered with books. Under all the tables were boxes containing just as many more books. Volunteers patrolled the tables, and when the books started to lean over because people had removed some for purchase, the volunteers reached into the boxes below and pulled out more books to fill the empty spaces. Other volunteers continued to bring in boxes of books from the dock area to replace the empty boxes beneath the tables.

We browsed for nearly an hour before Teddy noticed how long the check-out line was. I had another appointment and had to leave in about 40 minutes, and Kari and Teddy were finished browsing, so we got in line. Keep in mind that the oblong outline in the above map is the size of an indoor sports field. The end of the line was at the red arrow and, from that point forward, moved clockwise around the floor. The exit to the cashier was at the green arrow, so we needed to move nearly all the way around the floor. Yikes! The good news was that the line was never stationary. I tried to look through some of the children’s books (green tables) as we passed them because I didn’t get to those tables before we got in line, but when I paused to extract a book, Kari and Teddy moved forward 4-6 feet before I even had a chance to examine the book.

Checking out was fast: Several staff members were available to count books for customers. They did the simple math to calculate the cost, and wrote the total on a piece of paper. Customers then took the piece of paper to the next available cashier and handed her their money–cash only, no tax to calculate. We made it from the back of the line to outside the front door in about 30 minutes. Not bad at all!

For the price of one new book, I now have 15 new-to-me books. There goes some of that display space the designer thinks I have.

I read for pleasure and that is the moment I learn the most.

Margaret Atwood

Today is a day to celebrate our families. I usually post a single photo of my siblings and me to mark the day, but this year, I’ve decided to pay tribute to six generations of siblings in my family.

I only have one photo of a grandparent with siblings. My Grandma S. is on the right, standing beside her brother, Phil and her sister, Gladys. The seated lady is Grandma’s mother, my Great-grandma D.

Ted’s and my parents and their siblings are the next generation. It’s unfortunate that the only picture I have of Ted’s dad with his siblings was taken on a day that Paul was enjoying a home visit from the hospital. I always think of him in that chair, but never in a reclining position. His siblings are Cella, Bob, and John. The picture of Ted’s mother with her older sisters, Verna and Leona, was taken before her younger brother was born.

My dad is the blonde standing in the center back. His youngest brother, Ken, wasn’t born yet. The other siblings are Gerry, Arch, Lynn, and Bob. My mom is on the left of her siblings, Gibby, Shirley, and Ruth. Two of her brothers had already died when this photo was taken.

In generational order, Ted and I are next. The only picture I have of him with all of his siblings is the one below: Gary, Ted, Mutzie, and Dan. I’m eleven in the photo with my siblings. Left to right, it’s Russ, Tom, Steve, Denny, and me.

After Ted and me, our children are the next generation. We took this picture at the zoo in 1979.

Our kids have grown up, so now we have sibling grandchildren as well. On the left is a 2021 photo of Thom and Katie’s family: Julian, Sefton, and Hadley. The top right is Jeff and La’s family in 2010: Alex, Kyra, and Zack. Dean and Kari’s family is in the lower right in 2017: Sky, Dylan, and Teddy.

And the beat goes on. Our first great-grandchild, Alex and Kaitlyn’s son, just celebrated his first birthday. So far, he doesn’t have any siblings, but I’m including him here as the first member of his future sibling group. Here’s Ollie.

Today’s date is a rarity. The date, 12/02/2021, is an 8-digit palindrome, just like 02/02/2020, which occurs only 12 times this century. You’ll have to wait until 03/02/2030 for the next 8-digit date palindrome.

Today’s date is unique in another way. If you drop the slash marks from the date and enter it into an analog calculator, it reads the same upside down.

The year 2021 has 22 palindrome dates of at least four digits, a phenomenon that occurs only twice in each century, during the years ending in 11 and 21. It won’t happen again until 2111, 90 years from now.

Today’s rare palindrome kicks off a string of nine consecutive palindrome dates in December, beginning with 12/1/21 and ending with 12/9/21. There were ten palindrome dates in January 2021, running from 1/20/21 through 1/29/21. For the first time in history, Inauguration Day fell on a palindrome date: 1/20/21. That won’t happen again until 1/20/3021, 1,000 years from now.

It happens only twice in a century and we’re here to enjoy it. Life is good, isn’t it?

I recently saw a list of the AFI’s (American Film Institute) 100 all-time best movie quotes. The movies listed are from 1931 (Dracula)-2002 (Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers). I’m not sure how often the list is updated to include new movies. My personal all-time favorite (and powerful) movie quote is from the 1939 movie Gone with the Wind. The line? “Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn.” The AFI also ranks this as the #1 best movie quote. Here are 20 more of Ted’s and my favorite movie quotes.

The concrete project is (almost) finished. During the five weeks of work and mess, Ted and I felt like we never had a chance to relax. We didn’t do anything to actually pour or finish the concrete, but there always seemed to be something to make a decision about, the noise level was high, and the mess was unexpectedly overwhelming.

The two of us decided to take a day off from work and hassle and do only pleasurable, relaxing things. We walk regularly around our neighborhood and know it well–even in the dark. We had some shopping to do on Historic Main Street in St. Charles, so we decided to walk a different route. Main Street is a mile long and runs parallel to the Missouri River. The Katy Trail runs through Frontier Park along the river, so we walked the two-mile loop down Main Street and along the river. It was a treat to look at less familiar things. Here are some things we don’t see on our regular route.

Daniel Boone greeted us when we got out of the car.

There’s a little waterfall on a creek that flows into the Missouri River.

A riverfront statue of Lewis and Clark commemorates their exploration of the Louisiana Purchase. They supplied their journey in St. Louis and set out on the Missouri River at St. Charles. It’s a big claim to fame for the city. (Lewis and Clark, not the statue.)

The Missouri River is running very low due to a lack of rain here and upstream. After raining all spring and summer, setting some records and keeping the river unusually high, the faucet turned off in August. At least we don’t have water shortages here.

There are lots of park benches along Main Street and at the riverfront. This one is dedicated to the founder and owner of the Noah’s Ark restaurant and hotel, a former iconic St. Charles landmark (inset). It was built in 1967 and demolished in November 2005 to make way for the Streets of St. Charles, a business, entertainment, and residential complex.

We’ve attended many events at the St. Charles bandstand. It’s situated at the St. Charles trailhead for the Katy Trail.

Our grandson, Dylan, has had some of his artwork displayed at the Foundry Art Center.

Main Street is a treasure trove of historic buildings. This is the Grand Opera House, which now serves as an event venue.

It was about 90 degrees this afternoon, and we were thirsty, so we stopped at Kilwin’s for a Coke (Ted) and a bottle of water (me) and sat on their bench to people-watch while we refreshed ourselves. They also have an outdoor patio in the back, but we were doing the Main Street part of the walk at this time. We resisted the ice cream and chocolates because we were more thirsty than hungry. Maybe next time we’ll be hungry too. Except for an occasional kid’s lemonade stand, we don’t get refreshments on our neighborhood walks. No streetside benches either.

Dylan recently got a job at the Bike Stop. This business serves as a Katy Trail biker’s stop. We noticed that they rent bicycles built for six like we saw at the bike store.

Instead of going for cardio as we usually do on our walks, Ted and I walked for pleasure. It was still two miles of exercise, but it was a lovely day and a relaxing walk. We decided to do it again soon and to maybe look for other interesting walks, just as we look for a variety of bike trails. Best of all, there was no concrete work going on outside our door and all the mess at home is cleaned up. Yes, a lovely day.

Why, oh why do women’s pants have pockets too small to carry a cell phone (it falls out of the pocket if I bend over, and the back pockets aren’t any deeper), . . .

but women’s pajamas have three pockets–one on the top and two in the pants–large enough for a cell phone or even an 8-inch tablet?

What do I need to put in a pocket to keep me uncomfortable all night while I sleep?

I was searching for something on the internet and, to my surprise, I came across an image of an Arvin 7 transistor radio. That brought back so many memories!

Transistor radios were first mass produced in the late 1950s and were the most popular electronic communication devices of the 1960s and 1970s. (What else was there at that time? I’m drawing a blank.) Transistor radios were popular because they were pocket- or purse-size and portable (battery operated), allowing us to listen to music wherever we went.

I was a pre-teen at that time and, of course, my friends and I all wanted transistor radios. I saved my allowance money and, in October 1958, I went shopping. My mom came along because I needed a driver. My choice was the Arvin 7. This was an upscale transistor radio. It was named the Arvin 7 to indicate that it had seven transistors. Wow! I think it cost about $30 when the cheaper models cost around $10-$15. It was so cool! It looked like this and was about 4″ x 6″.

It came with a leather cover for the front. You can see the earphone jack on the side. That was a nice feature.

The cover had one snap on the bottom and two on the top and could be attached over the back as well. Really cool!

These radios offered only AM frequencies, but that was fine because my friends and I all listened to the same AM station that every teenager in the Milwaukee frequency area listened to: current pop music on “WOKY in Milwaukee–920 on your radio dial.” My parents (and my friends’ parents) hated WOKY (pronounced “walk-y”). In fact, my mom once told me that the same song sounded better on any other station. Yeah, right. If Bing Crosby sang it instead of Elvis!

One of the really neat things you used to be able to do with AM radio was pick up far-away clear-channel stations on especially clear nights. With my awesome little transistor radio, I occasionally heard Wolfman Jack in New York and I remember picking up New Orleans and Chicago too. Those were the days.

My birthday “season” usually lasts 6-8 weeks, meeting several friends for lunches and spending time with family members. Thanks to COVID, my 2021 birthday season was much shorter. The first two days of the season were spent with family. Kathy and Annette came for a visit and Kari’s family joined us for part of that time.

While Kari and Sky were at work, Kathy, Annette, and I made use of the hot tub. In the evening, Kari and Teddy joined us to relax in the hot tub again. Annette enjoyed it so much, she didn’t want to get out. Ted thought we might have to prop her up so she wouldn’t drown while she slept in it overnight.

As usual, I made Vienna Torte for my birthday. This dessert is a long-term annual tradition for me, dating back to my childhood. The chocolate drizzle on the cake looks pretty blah this year. It cooled too much before I poured it, so it set almost as soon as it hit the cake. It wasn’t as pretty, but it was a thicker piece of chocolate with each serving of cake.

There were gifts, including my favorite m&ms: Easter pastels.

Another great gift was Codenames. It’s the perfect game for a family group. It was easy to learn, a little bit challenging, fun to play, and didn’t require too much deep thought to prevent us from having fun with each other while we played.

The day after Kathy and Annette’s visit, I had a birthday lunch with one of my friends. The weather was beautiful, so we went to a restaurant that has an outdoor patio overlooking a pond in a pretty landscaped setting. The food was good and the company was great. That birthday lunch was followed by a birthday video call with Jeff and La in the evening and another video call with Thom, Katie, and Sefton two days later.

And that was it: five days of celebrating my birthday this year. I always enjoy my birthday, and this was no exception. It’s the quality of the time spent celebrating, not the quantity of it, and I definitely had quality time with my family and my best friend. Until next year, . . . .

luxury–noun; (1) the state of great comfort and extravagant living; (2) hot tub.

Definitely (2) hot tub.

Oh, happy day! It’s definitely spring. Temperatures are in the 60s and Ted and I saw tulips along our walking route.

Ted made a trip to the hardware store this afternoon and he also made an unscheduled stop to buy me his traditional spring gift. He knows how much I love spring. There are six yellow tulip buds in the pot and I’m looking forward to every one of them.

Is it any wonder I keep hanging out with this guy?

Each of us has our own individual skill set. Is it common for people to wish they had different skills, or is it just me? I wish I had more creative skills. For example, I’m an excellent technical writer and can easily write a one-sentence summary of nearly anything, but I wish I could write a creative story. I played first chair clarinet in my high school band and I later took piano lessons, but I wish I could play more musically rather than note-by-note. I can make changes to just about anything changeable to meet the need, but I wish I could come up with the original idea.

I never recognized many of the skills I have until I became an adult and realized that I can effortlessly do some things that other people struggle with. From across a room, I can spot a crooked picture hanging on the wall. Once I took a level to a picture that Ted thought was straight and showed him that it was off by 1/8 inch. I’m very spatial as well. I can eye up a room and tell you whether or not a given item will fit in the space available. When my GED classroom site was moving, I worked with the campus facilities director to move the furniture and set up the classroom in the new space. After looking around the room, I told her where I needed to have things placed. The director later told me she was amazed that everything fit on the first try. On a smaller scale, I can look at a pile of stuff and stack it in the most efficient way in the least amount of space in no time at all. Once, when we had overnight guests, I decided to leave the dishes until later. One of the guests commented that she’d never seen that many dishes in such a small pile. I’m also excellent at organizing things. It’s no problem for me to examine a task and decide what should be done first and what will be needed to do it.

So what’s my problem? My discontent is that these don’t seem like skills to me and, even if they are, they’re dull and boring.

Today I was reading LaVyrle Spencer’s book, Years, and recognized another skill of mine. The characters in the book are dealing with the aftermath of a terrible blizzard in North Dakota in the 1910s. Two family members are missing and a search party goes to work in the dark. When they return to the house in the early morning, we learn that “It was clear Nissa hadn’t slept at all. It was equally clear that she was one of those who functions well under stress, whose thought processes clarify in direct proportion to the necessity for clear thinking.” That is so me! I tend to get frustrated by little annoyances, but in a crisis, I’m probably the person you want. If it’s an emergency or a big deal of any kind, my mind clears, a calmness comes over me, and I can see exactly what needs to happen and who I should direct to do what.

As I read about Nissa, I thought, “That’s actually a great skill to have.” I probably just need to recognize how my boring skills are practical and generally make my life easier. And yet, I can’t help wishing . . . .

It’s been over a year since our Pilates classes were cancelled due to the community college closing at the beginning of the COVID-19 pandemic. That was our first sign that COVID was getting too close to us for comfort. Ted and I have been very careful to avoid becoming infected by this awful virus. We started wearing masks as soon as the CDC recommended that practice for prevention; we have practiced social distancing; and our hands are the cleanest they’ve ever been. We have a very small social bubble, and we get a little bit excited if we need to cross the line into St. Louis County for something–about 10 miles away.

The National Weather Service recognizes March 1 as the first day of meteorological spring. Therefore, spring has sprung! The sun is shining, and Ted and I just felt like we wanted to go out for lunch to celebrate. We haven’t eaten in a restaurant since March 16 last year–the day before the total lockdown started. (I had a lunch and a dinner coupon for free birthday meals and I didn’t want to waste them.) We ordered a take-out pizza once last summer, but the ambience of eating it in the car just didn’t measure up to sitting in the restaurant. I like to cook, so I’ve actually enjoyed preparing meals at home, but still, . . . . Did I say it’s been a year???

We decided that we’d celebrate the first day of spring by making something for lunch that we would have ordered in a restaurant. We (used to) like the grilled cheese sandwiches at Panera, so we made grilled cheese and French fries. Instead of our usual milk as a beverage, we blew our healthy diet and had Pepsi. To change things up a little, we decided to eat somewhere different from the kitchen table. It was only 52 degrees outside, so we chose the basement as our setting–someplace different than we’re accustomed to. We named our casual restaurant Unser Haus.

It wasn’t crowded, so social distancing was easy.

There were people chatting at the bar, so there was a little crowd noise.

We were seated in a booth, and the food was good.

Best of all, it’s the kind of restaurant that provides a chocolate after the meal.

Yes, it was a self-serve restaurant, but it was fun to do something different.

Beach towels are nice for the beach (or pool) in the summer, but Ted and I have found ours to be kind of flimsy for drying off when we get out of the hot tub in cold weather. We went shopping for some nice big bath sheets with a little more substance to them than a beach towel from Target.

I was reading the tags as I removed them from the towels and it made me wonder if I should be concerned about washing the towels.

If three washings will make these towels “bloom” that much, how long will they keep blooming and how thick will they get? Will they become so absorbent that they just attract the water and remove it from our skin? I guess these are questions we’ll answer in the coming months.

A few weeks ago, while Ted and I were doing some Christmas shopping, we saw this seasonally decorated vehicle at Best Buy–wreaths (one on each side), elves on the top and over the spare tire, window decorations, and some kind of stick-on lights all over the vehicle. Let the Christmas season begin!

After dinner tonight, we thought it would be fun to drive our neighborhood bike route to look at the holiday decorations at night. It was a pretty way to spend some time. Most houses had a modest to medium display of lights, but some folks went all out.

This scene includes a lake for the blow-up penguins standing beside it.

Luckily, this house is on a corner, so they could decorate two sides for public viewing.

These folks also did a good job of covering the front yard with lights.

This is one unit of an apartment building. They don’t have much space for lawn decorations, but they put as many lighted objects as possible in their limited area. They might win for most objects per square foot of space.

Without question, Ted and I voted this house the winner. Our guess is that it took two people four or five days to set up this display. They didn’t stop with outlining the entire structure of their house, stringing lights in most of a mature tree, and filling the front yard; they also completely decorated their backyard storage shed (visible in the center left) and everything else (swing set, fence, etc.) in the back yard. The lighted arches over the driveway don’t show very well with all the other lights competing for attention, but if you look closely, you can see them over the car in the driveway. Compare to Clark Griswold’s house in Christmas Vacation.

In contrast, Ted and I have a simpler holiday light display. Including some lights on the pool fence, it took me a little more than an hour. Merry Christmas!

I had my eyes examined in October and ordered new glasses and new contacts. The glasses and a year’s supply of contacts for my left eye arrived in less than a week. I’m still waiting for the contacts for my right eye.

If purchased between October 1 and December 1, my contacts include a $200 rebate, but I have to submit a photo of the boxed contacts with the UPC visible and readable. December 1 is not far away and I’m still waiting for half my boxes so I can take the required picture. I’ve been calling my eye doctor every few days to see if they have good news for me, and I finally got an answer yesterday.

The office manager talked to a live person at the source and learned that, due to COVID and widespread mask-wearing, large numbers of people who have never worn, or even considered, contact lenses now want to wear them. As a result, contact lens production is running about six weeks behind former delivery parameters. My contacts might arrive around December 13. The office manager said the company representative for their office has promised to make sure that customers get their $200 rebate, even with the delayed delivery time. Trial packages of contacts, however, are available, so the office manager ordered a month’s worth of trials (complimentary) for me. They should arrive in four days. We’ll see. (Pun.)

Masked man with steamed-up glasses who recently ordered contacts

On a related subject, I went to Target yesterday and involuntarily let out a whispered “Oh, no, not again!” when I saw the toilet paper shelves.

I recently read a report describing “super agers” and found it very interesting. Several years ago, a Harvard study conducted at Massachusetts General Hospital examined people in their 70s and 80s with the physical or mental capacity of their decades-younger counterparts.

Physically, as people age, their oxygen intake typically decreases by approximately 10 percent every decade after the 30s. Super agers in their 80s, however, who exercise at a high intensity 20-40 minutes per day 3-5 days per week have the aerobic capacity of people 30 years younger. The long-term effect of exercise depends on the intensity, duration, and regularity of the activity. A measure of high intensity exercise is that you can’t talk easily while you are exercising.

Mentally, those who practice intense mental activity have better-preserved areas of the brain that involve memory and reasoning. Super agers tend to move out of their comfort zones to gain new areas of cognitive expertise. They are also willing to endure discomfort (e.g., embarrassment or physical discomfort) to master a new skill. An informal measure of mental age is the answer to the question “Could you do the job you did 30 years ago at the same level?”

A surprising finding about super agers is that, after they reach 105 years of age, their death rate actually decreases. They still die, of course, but at a slower rate than people younger than themselves.

At least five years ago, Sixty Minutes reported on the over-90 population living in Sun City, AZ, a 55+ community. The interviewees were all very active individuals who danced, swam, power-walked, joined clubs, etc. After seeing that report, I made it my goal to be a power-walker in my 90s.

Change this to power walking and it could be me in the 2040s.

At this point, Ted and I have the qualities of super agers. We are both physically and mentally active; we both read constantly for pleasure and for learning; we’re not afraid to try new things (although Ted passed on the purple poi dinner rolls in Hawai’i); we exercise, on average, more than an hour every day (although we’re sometimes active for several hours on a single day and do nothing aerobic on another day); and we both believe we could do our previous jobs as effectively as we did 30 years ago. We know we’d have to catch up on new developments in our fields, but as super agers, we aren’t afraid of the challenge to learn new things. Will we go back to work? Hahahahaha! (But we could.)

Do we qualify as super agers? We’ll let you know when we hit 105.