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 bomb 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.

Today I saw this meme that referenced Kamala Harris as the United States Vice President-elect. It was followed by the statement “All it takes is one woman to crack open the door, and the crowd behind her can come barging through.” (Nancy Armour, USA Today) Of course, other countries have had women heads of state for many years, but the United States is still largely a patriarchy.

My daughters and their peers might not realize how far women have come in the past 50-60 years, but I’ve seen a lot of change in attitudes toward women in my lifetime.

My elementary school had three classrooms and three teachers–one man and two women. Of course, the man was the principal. Good for our school board, though. When the man retired, they hired another woman and selected the senior woman teacher to be the principal. When the single woman teacher got married, she was allowed to keep teaching, but when she became pregnant, she had to resign. It was considered inappropriate for young children to have a pregnant teacher, even though we saw our pregnant moms at home.

When I was in high school, the “obvious” career choices for women were secretary, airline stewardess, or teacher. Of course, when you got married, you would probably quit your job to raise your family. I didn’t want to be a secretary and I wasn’t pretty enough to be an airline stewardess. At that time, you had to be a single female, look like Barbie, and not wear glasses. Very sexist by today’s standards. I’ve always loved school, so I probably would have chosen an educational path anyway, no matter how many choices I had, but my college roommate was one of a very few women in the School of Business at UW-Madison.

When I was in college, women were allowed to wear pants to classes. After all, it was a huge campus with 15-minute walks between classes, and it was Wisconsin in the winter before global warming was noticeable. For dinner, however, we were required to wear skirts. I’m proud to say I was part of the protest movement in my dorm to allow pants for dinner attire. We won. Another college memory of mine is avoiding construction sites (there was always a new building going up on campus) because it was uncomfortable for me to have to walk by and ignore the comments and wolf whistles from construction workers. It wasn’t flattering then, and it’s sexual harassment now.

When I got married, I was not allowed to get a credit card in my name. Ted and I still use the VISA card we took out when we got married because it has no annual fees. One card has my name on it, but the account is in Ted’s name and the card number is the same on both cards. I now have an additional credit card in my own name–something I qualified for many years later.

When Ted and I bought a house, the utilities had to be in Ted’s name because a woman could not be the head of the household and only the head of the household (i.e., the man) could be counted on to be financially responsible. We haven’t moved in 41 years, so our utilities are still in Ted’s name but it’s not worth changing. I simply pay the bills out of our joint checking account.

Like millions of women around the world, I’m still waiting to be judged first for qualities other than my gender. I think Joe Biden’s selection of Kamala Harris as his running mate and the vote to elect Joe and Kamala as President and Vice President has been a big step toward equality for women in the United States. Let’s see how far it goes.

Ted and I decided to vote by absentee ballot this year because we think there will be very long lines at the polls on November 3. The line was a lot longer than usual for the 2018 midterms when I counted 75 people ahead of us, and there are always long lines for Presidential elections. Maybe especially for this Presidential election. Besides, the weather could be crummy in November, so who wants to stand outside if they don’t have to?

We’ve never voted absentee or by mail before, but the process was very simple. We filled out our absentee ballot request online and then headed for the Election Authority office just a short distance from our house, where we received our ballots and cast them immediately. As it turned out, if we were appearing in person with a photo ID, we could pick up our ballots and vote without the application. Oh, well. It’s better to be prepared, right?

The roads near the Election Authority office were clearly marked with “Election Authority Office” signs at each corner along the way, but we already knew where it was–next door to where my SCC program used to provide a GED classroom site.

Our first surprise was the number of campaign signs posted along the road and around the parking lot. The signs added a colorful and–dare I say?–decorative touch to a dreary day and a blah parking lot. I didn’t read any of them because I already knew who I was voting for. Does anyone decide how they will vote when they arrive at the polling place parking lot and see those signs? “Oh, I was going to vote for Donald Duck, but the Mickey Mouse sign at least 25 feet from the polling place door caught my attention and changed my mind.”

Our second surprise was the steady stream of cars coming and going and filling the parking spaces. When we left, there were at least as many cars in the parking lot and at least as many people in the room as when we arrived. If there’s a steady stream of voters like this–a rainy Tuesday afternoon–every day, a lot of people are voting early. Maybe the polling place lines won’t be so long on November 3 after all.

Curbside voting was available for those who requested that their ballots be mailed to them in advance. For awhile, there was a long line of cars at the curbside, but not when I took this picture.

When we entered the building, the number-caller shouted “5!” These were our numbers. There were seven election judges working, so it took us less than 30 minutes to get our ballots and to cast our votes. We didn’t really keep track of the time, so that’s a guess, but the line kept moving. I asked the number-caller if she goes home hoarse at the end of the day and she said, “We all do.”

Here’s a partial view of the crowd. There were people (including us) standing along two walls, people seated, and people voting at the tables with the red and white and the black divider screens (right center) and at tables in a large room behind the staircase. We even saw someone we knew–Ed, from the bike shop where we bought our bikes and where we keep finding new bike gear to buy. Ed told me once he has five bicycles and uses them all for different kinds of biking. He’s retired so he works part-time for the Election Authority and part-time at the bike shop. Today, he was answering questions on the floor and directing human traffic in the room.

In less time than we stood in line in 2018, we had fulfilled our civic duty.

Last week, I received an Amazon catalog in the mail. I didn’t even know Amazon mailed catalogs! I’m not big on catalog shopping, so I quickly riffled through the pages before throwing it into the recycle bin.

During my riffle, I saw a Christmas tree maze. I couldn’t resist drawing my way through the maze. Then I saw another activity page. I finally checked the table of contents (yes, a table of contents, not an index like catalogs usually have), and found lots of fun activities. The promise on the catalog was true: It was “Joy Delivered” and it put an Amazon Prime smile on my face.

Here’s the catalog cover. With the “kid” appearance, it’s no surprise it was a toy catalog.

Here are the activity pages. There’s even a page of stickers (bottom right) to go with “A Winter’s tail Tale.”

The catalog included a page with a recipe for “sip, sip, hurray” hot chocolate and another page to “Make a list, check it twice” with the note that the list may include “anything, like hugs, hats, or talking mice.” Maybe I’ll use that page to make my Christmas list. Who do I know that wants a talking mouse for Christmas?

Kari generously shares the fruits of her garden with us, usually in one of her produce bags. She said she bought the bags at the grocery store and uses them when she buys produce, rather than putting it in a store-provided plastic bag. I thought it would be great to have bags of my own, but I couldn’t find them at the grocery stores. Enter online shopping. The bags just arrived and I’m a happy customer.

Picture it: It’s the Fourth of July, but Ted and I have no plans to do more than watch the neighborhood fireworks (legal in our jurisdiction). So dull. With fireworks being launched in the streets throughout the nearby subdivisions, taking a walk or a bike ride was out of the question. We’d spend far too much time waiting for a launch before we could pass and dodging falling bottle rockets, etc.

By 5:30 p.m., I was going crazy and wanted to do something. Aha! Brainstorm! I suggested to Ted that we load up our bikes and head for the Katy Trail. I listed reasons this would be a good idea: (1) We’d get out of our yard and the subdivision; (2) it was still several hours until sunset; (3) the trail would probably be deserted because everyone else had most likely already gone home for dinner and fireworks; and (4) the trail is not near subdivisions, so we wouldn’t have to listen to or dodge popping fireworks while we rode.

Ted was an easy sell for the idea. It took us very little time to put on shoes, fill some water bottles, and load the bikes on the car. We headed for the MO Research Park access point to the Katy Trail and found fewer than a half dozen cars in the parking lot. Yes! The last time we biked the Katy was the last beautiful day of October, and every trail was packed.

Everything we hoped for came true: the trail was beautiful, quiet, and deserted. The plan was to bike 20 miles, but we stopped at 18 because just past our nine-mile point, MO Hwy 94 crosses the Katy, and we had less than a mile to go to reach our ten-mile turnaround. After more than an hour-and-a-half of biking, we were filled with endorphins and looking forward to dinner.

We arrived at home around 8:00 p.m. and the locals were already launching their fireworks, even though the sun hadn’t yet set.

Here’s a closer look at our neighbor across the street–Will and Karen. Check out the table beside the driveway. It’s well-stocked with fireworks.

At 8:00 p.m., after biking 18 miles and with the sun still shining, Ted and I were more interested in dinner than fireworks. We cleaned the trail dust off our bikes and put together a quick meal. By the time we finished, the fireworks pops and bangs were so frequent, we decided to go outside to take a look at what was going on. This was not the usual neighborhood fireworks celebration. After standing in awe for about 15 minutes, we pulled up some lawn chairs and watched the show for two hours. It finally wound down after 10:30, and silence reigned by midnight.

From our driveway, with a 180-degree range of vision (the house was behind us), we could see at least ten sites where people were constantly launching fireworks, plus other occasional shots, where the residents had a smaller budget for the event. In our immediate neighborhood, four houses were providing a display for us. The orange arrow is our house; the four green arrows are the active neighbors’ sites. The side street at our house was also parked full of cars.

I can’t imagine how many thousands of dollars went up in smoke within our sight distance alone. There was no such thing as hearing an individual bang for those two hours–the noise was constant, differentiated only by louder bangs for bigger fireworks. Litter and ash fell from the sky and landed on us as we watched. Normally, there are some nice, big fireworks in the neighborhood shows but, as Kari said, you could tell that everyone was at home this year. I think folks spent their unusable travel budgets on fireworks, because there was one big explosion of color after another.

Ted and I have traveled frequently over the Fourth of July holiday because I always had the day off from work. We’ve seen fireworks in many major U.S. cities (Washington, D.C., San Francisco, New Orleans, others), as well as overseas for Bastille Day and Swiss National Day, but none of those places offered a two-hour show with a sky full of color everywhere we looked. This was definitely among the best fireworks displays we’ve ever seen, and Will and Karen might have had the best display in the subdivision–about 150 feet away from our VIP driveway seating. The fireworks in the photos below were launched by Will and Karen. They had two launching sites, so something was always going off, and it was obviously choreographed to present different types of explosions in pleasing series. Will told me they made some notes to improve it next year.

There was no wind, so smoke lingered.

In the morning, even though we hadn’t purchased or launched any fireworks, Ted and I had a clean-up job to do. Our lawn, concrete, and pool were littered with debris. The litter was mostly cardboard-like pieces and doesn’t show well in the picture below, but I don’t think there was a square foot without litter. It looks very bio-degradable, so will probably decompose quickly, but we needed to sweep and use the leaf-blower to clear the concrete and the outdoor furniture. I hosed off the furniture and the concrete to remove the ash. Ted vacuumed the pool twice, but neither of us could keep ahead of the debris. We assumed there was litter in the trees that kept falling on our (we thought) cleaned-up areas.

If Will and Karen’s show is going to be even better next year, you might want to join us July 4, 2021.

Ted and I were running some errands (an excuse to get out of home quarantine) and I was driving on I-64 when a white car put itself right on my tail. I mentioned (sarcastically) to Ted that “I wish she’d get a little closer to me.” When we reached our exit, I moved into the exit lane–and so did the white car, still on my tail. I signaled for a right turn onto the cross street, slowed to look for traffic before merging, noticed the light had just changed and I’d have to wait for a break in the traffic, and came to a stop–and so did the white car, when she hit my car.

We both pulled into a parking lot around the corner. We had no injuries and both cars were still drivable, so that’s good. The 20-something driver, however, went into hysterical crying and said this was her first accident. She asked me what the upcoming process would be like. I told her and spent some time calming her down before I thought she’d be safe to re-enter traffic. Her car has the right front corner bashed in, so I assume she made a last-ditch effort to swerve to the left to avoid hitting me, but she had been following me too closely to avoid the accident.

All will be well–in time. Although auto insurance companies are giving refunds to customers because of reduced driving and accident rates during the lockdown, I couldn’t get an appointment for an estimate at the body shop until July 8, ten days after I called. Then I’ll find out how bad my damage is. A previous rear-end collision on my car cost more than $8,000 to repair. There was more damage that time, but the spike in cost was due to the fact that my electronic hardtop convertible top drops into the trunk where there are 32 sensors to guide the action. My parking assist sensor and rear-view camera were both damaged this time and the bumper, trunk cover, tailpipe, and driver’s side rear panel are all visibly out of alignment. I don’t know if any of the convertible top sensors are damaged now, because the hot weather hasn’t tempted me to put the top down since the accident and I don’t want to experiment, in case it goes partially down, then won’t come back up.

Update coming after July 8. Adventures happen, even in COVID times.

Today, Ted and I celebrated our 51st wedding anniversary. Last year, we celebrated with all of our children and grandchildren. This year, the celebration was more subdued.

We spent some time looking at our wedding album and enjoying the memories.

Our wedding cake was sour cream chocolate because neither of us likes white cake, the traditional wedding flavor.

Our first dance was awkward. We had never danced together before the wedding, and Ted didn’t know how to lead. We’re better dancers now.

According to one of the four local newspapers that reported our wedding, I was a “Hingham girl” whom Ted “claimed.”

We had a star-studded guest list according to the guest sign-ins.

We started our anniversary celebration by buying a hot tub yesterday afternoon. Picture it here in 2-3 months, after the manufacturer catches up on production. The tree needs to disappear.

This afternoon, we rolled last year’s anniversary gift–our e-bikes–out of the garage and took a 12-mile bike ride in the beautiful weather. We’ve ridden over 300 miles so far this spring. (Plus the 365 miles we rode last year.) After the ride, we needed a dip in the pool to cool down.

And, of course, we burned our anniversary candle. It’s an annual reminder of all the wonderful things we’ve shared since our wedding day.

In 1992, the United States Postal Service offered Americans the opportunity to vote for the Elvis picture they preferred to see on a new commemorative stamp: “young Elvis” at the age of 19-20, or “old Elvis” as a Las Vegas entertainer. The voters chose “young Elvis” and the stamp was issued January 1, 1993 at Graceland with Priscilla Presley on hand for the unveiling. According to the National Postal Museum, this is the most popular commemorative stamp ever issued.

Another commemorative Elvis stamp was issued in August 2019 as the “Forever Elvis Collection.”

Guess who bought a set. The sheet of stamps is double-sided and printed to look like a 45 rpm record jacket. The front of the sheet represents the album cover and you can see the top of the “record” sticking out above the stamps on the back side of the sheet .

The King lives. And so does the King impersonator. Awhile back, Kari re-texted me this photo of her when she dressed as Elvis for a private party at the skating rink. Maybe someday we’ll see this picture on a stamp.

The article that accompanied this picture reminded readers that lots of people rent their houses to vacationers. It was suggested to readers that, with the contagion threat of COVID-19, people who are hesitant to travel long distances or to stay at resorts might be willing to drive twenty minutes to swim for an hour in your pool. The CDC has stated that the threat of spreading COVID-19 is very low in a properly maintained swimming pool. The news article reminds homeowners that, between guest groups, it will be necessary to clean surfaces like deck chairs, railings, and ladders, as well as any pool toys provided by the owner. It’s also important to verify whether or not your homeowners’ insurance will cover liability for paying guests.

What do you think? Shall we put our pool on the rental market?

Maybe not.