For Mother’s Day, Kathy and Annette sent me a Diamond Art kit. I have already admitted to Kathy that I was skeptical when I saw it, but I decided to give it a try. Kathy admitted that it was Annette’s idea and that she (Kathy) was skeptical about sending it too. The happy ending is that it was a lot of fun to do and I enjoyed the opportunity to spend time on a new activity. Annette, you rock!

To do Diamond Art, you use a pen-size tool (in my hand) with a hollow tip to pick up tiny little “gems” from a tray (the gray thing on the countertop) and stick them to the adhesive surface of the fabric to create a sparkling picture. The picture is pre-printed with color-coded symbols to designate which gems to use. Think of paint-by-number, only different. It sounds tedious, but it was challenging enough (this was an intermediate level kit) that I enjoyed watching the picture come to sparkling life for an hour or two at a time. (“I’ll just finish this flower before I quit.”)

When I finished, Ted looked at it and sounded kind of surprised when he said, “It looks pretty nice.” I agreed. I don’t think I’ll hang it, and it won’t become my life’s work, but I had a good time and I think I’d like to try an advanced kit next time. Thank you, Kathy and Annette, for introducing me to a new kind of craft project.

Trevor Noah’s Daily (Social Distancing) Show included a possible upcoming change in education as a result of COVID-19: the Zoomstitute teacher.

He featured six kinds of substitutes students could expect in their Zoom classrooms. There was the “always running 30 minutes late” Zoomstitute. That would be the blank square.

Another Zoomstitute was the substitute who’s always on his/her phone (top square). He ignored the students and when one asked, “Shouldn’t we be doing something?” he replied, “Ah, yeah, sure” and went back to his phone.

The “still living in the past” Zoomstitute talked about how he “almost” made the tennis championships, but got a cramp in his foot and had to stop playing.

Zoomstitute. Coming soon to a classroom near you?

On Mother’s Day, we had video calls with all the kids (it didn’t work for Thom, but we tried). That was fun, and we enjoyed spending at least visual time with them. Today, for the first time in 8+ weeks, we were physically together with Kari’s family. We celebrated Teddy’s and Kari’s birthdays on their new covered porch that Dean built. We sat socially distant from each other–Ted and I on one end of the porch and Kari’s family on the other end–but it was so good to see them in person after such a long time.

Teddy’s birthday came before Kari’s, so he opened his gifts from us first. He started with the small one–two cloth pig-patterned face masks made of leftover fabric from the quilt I made for him. It’s a sign of the times that a gift of face masks wasn’t a disappointment.

The more exciting gift came next–a badminton set that was on his wish list. Teddy kept his face mask on until it was time to eat birthday cake. There was also some chocolate for our choco-holic grandson.

Then it was Kari’s turn. I made face masks for her, knitted some dishcloths (on her lap), and added a few other things, including some chocolate. Dylan is giving his full attention to the note I wrote to Kari.

This was a birthday party, so there was cake. Teddy decorated a chocolate cake to look like a pig. He even molded chocolate pigs and applied them to the frosting. The frosting was very pink, the cake was very chocolate, and it tasted very good. You can see the cake near the top of the first picture in this post.

We had a nice long visit and Dean joined us when he came home from work. The only sad part was when Ted and I were leaving. Teddy came running out of the house to give us good-bye hugs and we had to step back. He stopped and said, “Oh, yeah.” We still can’t do hugs, and that was sad, but it was wonderful to see each other in person again. Happy birthday Dean (it was too soon to meet in person on his birthday), Kari, and Teddy.

Note: The following day, Kari sent me a text with a picture of the badminton set in action.

On a recent trip to Wal-Mart, I noticed that a lot of people are apparently getting outdoors to exercise during the conronavirus lockdown. The bike display was wiped out–something I’ve never seen before at Wal-Mart.

Bike gear was selling pretty well too.

Ride on, everybody, ride on!

Since early March, I’ve put 190 miles on my bike. Not bad when I subtract the cold and/or rainy days.

Thirty years ago, on Valentine’s Day of 1990, the Voyager 1 spacecraft looked back one last time on its way out of the solar system and captured a picture of the Earth as a blurry dot in the darkness of the universe. The picture serves as a visual reminder of humanity’s vulnerability and the need for interdependence to assure our survival.

NASA released this sharper, reprocessed photo to mark the 30th anniversary of the image.

Ted and I built our firewood rack in 1980. We used treated pine, and the wood is still good, but was looking a little faded. (No surprise, since it’s probably been 20+ years since we last stained it.) A few weeks ago, I went to a lumberyard to buy stain. I wasn’t allowed inside, but the employee brought the stain and a handheld credit card machine to the door and I went home happy. The weather was warm and without rain in the forecast, so I decided to stain the firewood rack. It looks much better and fresher now.

We waited a few days to allow the stain to thoroughly dry, and then Ted re-loaded our leftover winter firewood onto the rack. We’re set for another 20+ years.

We’ve lived in this house for 40+ years and I’ve always thought the steps to the upstairs seemed steeper than the steps to the basement. I chalked it up to the carpeting on the upstairs stairway, but things didn’t change when we swapped out the carpeting for hardwood. Last week, I finally decided to verify the steepness of both stairways. (It was obviously a slow day in lockdown.)

I measured everything I could think of. Both stairways have 13 steps. Both span the same horizontal distance, so the upstairs stairway wasn’t cut short to make room for the hallway and the closet beyond it. The upstairs stair treads are actually 0.75 inches deeper than the basement stairs, so it’s not an illusion of wider steps, but the upstairs risers are also 0.75 inches taller than the basement ones and the angle of ascent is seven degrees steeper, proving that the upstairs stairway is definitely steeper than the basement stairway. Why, why, why???

After a few seconds, I had the Eureka! moment. The basement ceiling (to the bottom of the joists, not to the dropped ceiling tiles) is 6.5 inches lower than the main floor ceiling, so the upstairs steps need to climb 6.5 more inches in the same horizontal distance. Problem solved. Now, what shall I do for the next 15 minutes?

Next question: Is this true in other houses?

I made a grocery run today–wearing my face mask, of course, and by myself because only one household member is allowed in the grocery stores. When I entered the first aisle, I thought I was back in January.

The entire store looked like this with mostly full shelves–except the aisle with toilet paper, hand sanitizers, soap, Lysol, and bleach. I think the hoarders must have their cupboards full. The latest shortage is yeast. A store employee told me they haven’t had any for a week, but are expecting some this weekend. Will I be a lucky shopper who finds yeast?

Ted and I are retired and have no need to conduct business via Zoom or other platforms, but I’ve marked the Video Chat Bingo squares representing home-based workers we’ve seen on TV. To be honest, we did not see the pantsless spouse–we exceeded that. Trevor Noah’s Daily [Social Distancing] Show shared a moment of Zen that featured a female California news reporter.

Melinda Meza, a correspondent for KCRA 3 in Sacramento was filing a live report from her bathroom, demonstrating how to give yourself a DIY lockdown haircut. She could be seen cutting her own hair while her naked husband was in the glass-doored shower and clearly visible in the mirror behind her.

I’m so glad I worked in education and not in big business. Today, I had to deal with the corporate sector, something I always dread.

Last week, I received an email from our gas company informing me that they are changing to a different computer system. To continue my autopay payments, I was instructed to go into my gas company account, unenroll from autopay, then re-enroll in it so that my account will be switched to the new system. What a pain, but ok, I went into my account to do that, but I was unable to re-enroll. Error message: We were unable to enroll your account in paperless billing at this time. Please try again later. I did. Same result.

I called to speak with a live person and was told to call back during regular business hours–which were not specified. Before calling back the next day, I tried to set up an account myself once more. Still no luck after 20 minutes. I was becoming frustrated, so Ted suggested I try scr** you as a password to see if that works. I tried calling again instead.

Luckily, early afternoon apparently falls within the regular (but unspecified) business hours, and I was able to speak with Keith. According to him, there is no record of my autopay account in the company’s system. Since I’ve been using autopay for years and have not had the gas shut off, I find it hard to believe that there is no record of my account. Keith, however, insisted it doesn’t exist in the records and advised me to set up a new account. I tried, but I couldn’t get past the “enter your password” screen.

Switch to Rob. Rob informed me that he is working from home, sitting on the sofa in his pjs beside his wife and petting his cat. (Professional? I think not.) Rob told me I’m having trouble because there’s a dot in the first part of my email address and the system doesn’t recognize that format. I’ve been getting emails from the gas company at that address for years, but . . . . After working with me for a few minutes, Rob decided to contact an IT specialist, so he put me on hold while he sent a message. The voice on the wait-time recording asked, “Have you signed up for paperless billing? It’s easy! Just go to Spire.com to see how effortless this is.” We English majors call this “irony.”

For twenty-five minutes, while Rob and I–and his wife and cat–waited to hear back from the IT guy, Rob and I chatted about places we’ve been and how good the beignets are at Cafe du Monde in New Orleans. His wife and I both played clarinet in school, yet she never heard of Pete Fountain, a reknowned Dixieland clarinetist. After more trivial exchanges, the IT guy finally sent Rob a message saying he had set up the account for me and there was nothing else I needed to do. If my May gas bill gets paid automatically, he’s right.

This process was so “easy” and so “effortless,” it only took 45 minutes of unsuccessful attempts on my part and a little more than an hour of phone time with Keith and Rob to set this up! Aaaarrrrgggghhhh!

This is my dad/Grandpa Pete. I don’t remember the hat and I can’t tell what the pin says. I can’t even remember Dad ever wearing a cowboy-style hat, but pictures don’t lie. Or they didn’t in 1979.

Sticking with the 1979 cowboy theme, this is Ted’s Aunt Verna, his brother Gary, and his mom on our new front porch. (We moved into this house in July 1979.) I don’t remember Gary’s cowboy phase either, but it looks like Sheriff Brett Maverick has come to visit. Maybe he went shopping with my dad.

When we bought a bike for Jeff, he didn’t want to practice riding it. He told me he didn’t see any point in practicing, since all the kids who were six already knew how to ride. His plan was to wait until he was six and then get on his bike and go. It wasn’t easy to convince him that the six-year-olds could ride their bikes because they had practiced. He’s seven in this picture trying out his new, larger bike, and it looks like he’s happy to have mastered that skill.

This is Kathy in first grade. If I remember correctly, her class did a unit about Native Americans and she made this costume.

Thom (Tommy in 1979) is three years old and already in love with trucks. His career goal for many years was to drive an 18-wheeler, and he could recognize semi cabs from behind, as in “Well, only a Kenworth has a smokestack like that.”

Here’s one-year-old Kari with her Christmas doll, Kelly. Kelly came with her fluffy elephant friend named Elly.

It’s July 1979 and it’s hot outside. The building on the left is a day care center. Our house was the first residence built in this plat of the subdivision. See the swimming pool complex in the background? This picture must have been taken within the first two weeks of moving to our new house, because Ted and Jeff walked to the pool to buy a membership for us a few days after we moved in. After that, we didn’t use this backyard swimming pool. With nothing between us and the pool complex, we could sit in our back yard and hear the music blasting out of the concession stand to the accompaniment of the twang! of the diving board.

I think this must be the picture we sent with our Christmas cards in 1979. Check out Tommy’s colorful belt. All my life, I wanted to learn to play the piano. My early career goal was to play like Liberace (I watched his TV show every week), but my parents never had a piano. Ted bought this one for me for Valentine’s day in 1974 and I took piano lessons for five years. During that time, Thom and Kari were born and my practice time disappeared. That’s a 60-inch long console stereo against the far wall in the dining room. After a bedroom set and a kitchen table and chairs, that was the first piece of furniture Ted and I bought after we got married. It had a spindle that held six LP records, an AM-FM radio, and a tape deck to hold Ted’s reel-to-reel tape recorder to play tapes. And all in stereo sound!

Do you think the shipping community is running out of small boxes? FedEx left this box at our door. The box is a 13-inch cube, so it has 1,728 cubic inches of space inside.

This is what was inside the box–two small boxes that were 4 x 3 x 3 inches each for a total of 72 cubic inches. No filler material included. I hope we didn’t have to pay shipping for the extra 1,656 cubic inches of air inside.

The CDC has changed its mind and suggested that we all wear masks to provide some level of protection from COVID-19. A kerchief or homemade mask is fine (a few weeks ago, it was deemed useless), but we should save the truly protective masks for the medical professionals.

Today I went to Joann Fabrics to buy the makings for some masks. This was the line.

I was at the end of the line when I took the picture, and more people kept coming. After I’d stood in the cold 40-degree weather (wind chill in the low 30s), for about 25 minutes, an employee walked the line to inform us that (1) anyone who arrived after 2:00 p.m. (I arrived at 1:55) was not guaranteed to get into the store before closing at 4:00 p.m.; (2) they were out of fusible interfacing; and (3) there is no elastic in the store or online. At that point, several people (including me) left, so some of those who came after me could probably expect to get inside before closing.

I went to Wal-Mart and, even though they were admitting a limited number of customers, I walked right in. At least 3/4 of the shoppers were wearing face masks. I felt so unprotected!

So many people were buying fabric that the lady working the paint counter had a cutting mat at her station and was cutting fabric over there. I bought fabric and interfacing (there wasn’t much interfacing left), but was told there is no elastic in any store right now. I have several yards of elastic at home, but I bought some wide rubber bands in case I need more.

When I got home, I started making masks. Ted and I are now either protected or not, depending on what the CDC’s latest update is on the efficacy of homemade face masks.

Gerry Hofstetter is a light artist who is projecting images of support and hope on the Matterhorn during the coronavirus crisis.

This picture shows the city of Zermatt, Switzerland. The hotel where we stayed last summer is just out of sight at the lower right of the picture.

I was looking for a particular photo that I wanted to print, but I couldn’t find it, so I started opening folders I thought I might have moved it to. I never found that specific photo, but I found an interesting folder. Here are some of the pictures from that folder.

This is the most boring one to look at, but it was fun to read.

I think I took this picture in LaCrosse, WI. Ted and I were taking a walk after checking into our hotel and, when I saw this, I thought of Shel Silverstein’s book Where the Sidewalk Ends. This is the place.

Here’s some grocery store art I saw several years ago. Obviously, during the Christmas season. Construction materials: Pepsi, Coke, and Sprite cases.

I found this cartoon.

One of my teachers had this clock in her classroom.

My class site at Pike-Lincoln Technical Center in Eolia had a major fire in 2012. While I was helping my teacher inventory what was left of her classroom, she showed me this. She had a a bunch of red rulers rubber-banded together in a file drawer and they melted down to form this sculpture, which she told me she was going to save as a memento of the fire.

The pile of rulers was lying on its side on the bottom of the drawer and against one side of the drawer, so two sides of the “sculpture” are flat. The large flat side (back of the sculpture) shows the rubber band that survived on the bottom of the pile (you can see where it was in the picture above). It also shows that the melted plastic ran over a pencil and a ball point pen. The markings on the rulers are visible in both pictures. Cool!

This picture was taken at Christmas 2005. The kids were here for my doctoral graduation and someone (probably Kathy or me) gave Thom a Beethoven figure. Kathy and I thought it would be fun to let Beethoven play his “Moonlight Sonata” so we set up this photo op. I still smile when I see it. Maybe Kathy does too. (Remember phone books?)

Continuing the Beethoven theme, I saved another cartoon.

When Ted and I (and Jeff and Kathy) moved to Missouri in 1973, Ted’s office was at Lambert Airport. We bought a house in St. Charles rather than closer to the airport because we knew the STL WSFO (St. Louis Weather Service Forecast Office) was already under construction in St. Peters, a few miles west of St. Charles. At that time, St. Charles was basically a bedroom community for McDonnell-Douglas and St. Charles County was rural, with nothing but farmland and very small towns west of MO Hwy 94. It looked like the pictures below. When the St. Peters WSFO opened in 1974, Ted climbed the radar tower and took pictures of the Cave Springs area around the office.

This photo looks to the northwest. The horizontal road near the horizon (barely visible) is I-70; the diagonal road going to the left side of the photo is Jungermann Road. We moved from St. Charles to St. Peters in 1979 and it was still several years before I met more than two or three cars driving between home and Cave Springs on the two-lane Jungermann Road. Now it’s a 5-lane road and has constantly heavy traffic.

This view faces northeast. In the right center, the black-and-white striped Venture store sign is visible. When Venture was built, it was “out in the country” about six miles west of our house and there were no city lights past MO Hwy 94–just the darkness of rural Missouri. The city lights now extend westward without a break past Warrenton, 32 miles west of MO Hwy 94. In the right foreground, you can see the shadow of the radar tower where Ted is standing with his trusty Pentax camera that he bought in Japan. The WSFO moved from Cave Springs to Weldon Spring in 1993 when it upgraded to Doppler radar.

Here, Ted is facing southeast. When we decided to buy a larger house in 1979, we looked at one in the subdivision visible in the picture. The large building on the left is Cave Springs Lanes. The road running from the left side of the picture toward the lower right corner is Mexico Road. It was a gravel road when the WSFO opened. It’s a five-lane main arterial road now (and paved), and has been for a very long time. Cave Springs used to be described as having three main commercial buildings: The WSFO, the Venture store, and the bowling lanes. Now it’s a major commercial area, offering just about anything you might need. The WSFO building is currently being used by a department of the St. Peters city government. The Venture store was razed, and the site now houses a strip mall with an Office Depot, Northern Freight, Hobby Lobby, and some smaller stores. The bowling ally is still open for business.

The last photo from today’s search was a mystery to me for a few seconds. I’ll give you a moment to look at it and I’ll describe it below.

Those are my sunglasses lying on the poolside picnic table with a lawn chair behind them. They are reflecting the umbrella over the table.

So far, the extra free time I’m finding with the COVID-19 lockdown is still fun.

We scored today at Wal-Mart.

There was a limit of one each, but it wasn’t clear if a package of one roll of paper towels and a package of six rolls of paper towels were equally counted as one item. A small-size package of each item was sufficient for us.

P.S. I saw an article yesterday that many stores are already notifying customers that they will not give credit for critical items purchased during the COVID 19 crisis period. Those hoarders will be well-supplied with toilet paper and hand sanitizers for awhile.

Speaking of misleading health information, Barbara Delinsky has a gem in her book Sweet Salt Air. A woman in the story asks an overworked man, “When do you sleep?”

“When I’m tired,” he replies.

“Studies show that the less sleep you get, the greater your chance of stroke,” she warns.

“Studies get it backward,” he counters. “Insomnia is caused by stress, which causes high blood pressure, which causes stroke. I’m not stressed.”

This is another example of health information that “everyone knows,” but it’s not completely accurate. Even though a large percentage of people who have strokes might also have insomnia, the relationship between the two conditions is a correlation, not a cause-and-effect finding. The same is true of the studies that report people with more education have more migraine headaches. Education does not cause migraines, but it can provide a pathway to more stressful jobs, and stress causes migraines.

One of my great and useful take-aways from grad school was learning to be aware of the difference between correlation and cause-and-effect. All that tuition money wasn’t wasted.

There is a worldwide shortage of condoms. Many condoms and contraceptives are manufactured in Asia–China, India, Malaysia, and Thailand–where COVID-19 has resulted in lockdowns of factories. Karex Bhd’s three factories in Malaysia make one of every five condoms in the world (10 million condoms per day) and the factories have been closed for 10 days, resulting in 100 million fewer condoms from that company alone.

A condom shortage could critically affect Africa’s fight against HIV, which would be serious. On the positive side, Dr. Mehmet Oz recommends having lots of sex while we’re quarantined. In his words, “You’ll live longer, get rid of tension, . . . [and] maybe you’ll make some babies.”

Birth rates often spike after cataclysmic events and natural disasters, so don’t be surprised if there’s a coronavirus baby boom in December.

In 2018, I was excited to see anonymously planted irises on a common ground near our house; in 2019, I designated an unusual redbud tree as a special sign of spring. This year, the designated “Dr. D Spring Award” goes to the fullest, pink cherry tree I’ve ever seen. Beautiful!

Kathy and Annette came for an overnight visit to celebrate my birthday. Luckily, I was going to count their visit day as my “official” birthday, because on my real birthday, everything went wrong. Nothing I did all day turned out right–it either took much longer than it should have because of interruptions and challenges, or it totally flopped. After Kathy and Annette arrived, however, everything was good. Even my traditional birthday Vienna Torte was a success. Kathy and Annette brought good vibes to my birthday weekend.

Before Kathy and Annette arrived, my birthday gift from Ted was delivered by FedEx. It came from Hana, Maui.

Kathy is far more artistic than I am, so I asked her to arrange the flowers in a vase for me. She looked at them and said, “Of course. That’s easy.” Meanwhile, my thought was, “Whew! I didn’t know where to begin.”

After a few minutes, Kathy’s efforts produced a beautiful tropical flower arrangement.

Afternoon temperatures were only in the 50s, but the wind was calm and the sun was warm, so we went e-bike riding. After showing Kathy and Annette how e-bikes work (not much different from regular bikes), Kathy and I went out first. We biked about 8 miles and then Kathy and Annette biked for another 6 miles while Ted and I put dinner (and Vienna Torte) on the table.

I always enjoy my birthday–even if it’s not on my actual birth date, and especially with good company and Vienna Torte.

On Thursday, it was a sunny 72 degrees; on Sunday, it was a snowy 34 degrees. This begs the question: Is it spring?

Or not?

It was only a matter of time before people cooped up in their homes turned to Facebook to post Covid-19 memes. These were posted by Ted’s FB friends. I apologize for the cut-off letters, but that’s how they appeared on FB. Think of it as your challenge for the day to complete the words. With that said, are you ready for some laughs? Let’s go!

There’s a whole series on cats.

A few of the memes refer to Covid-19 in general.

It’s no surprise that most of the memes address toilet paper hoarding and shortages.

I’ve been making cranberry-orange nut bread since 1970 and never had a problem until recently. Today, I discovered the reason. At some point, I re-copied the recipe and made two critical typos and one not-so-critical typo. (1) I typed 1/2 tsp. of baking powder instead of 1-1/2 tsp; (2) I omitted the 1/2 tsp. baking soda; and (3) I reduced the cranberries by half. Without 3/4 of my leavening ingredients, it’s no wonder my bread was so hard and dry.

I shared this recipe with many people over the years. If I shared it with any of my readers, check the recipe I gave you against the one below. This is the correct one.

What’s wrong with this picture?

Hint: Zoom in on the green sticker on the license plate.

By not renewing his license plate since 1992, this guy has saved about $1,500. Not to mention that he didn’t have to stand in line at the DMV office.

Shortages predicted to result from coronavirus-related production and shipping problems are causing people to horde supplies they think they will need. I’m not hoarding anything, but I get this, so I wasn’t surprised to see Wal-Mart’s shelves stripped of pain and fever-reducing medications, sterilizing mouthwash, and hand sanitizers. Yet, it seems like one product is being hoarded more than anything else.

That’s what Target’s toilet paper shelves looked like last night. Why are people hoarding toilet paper? One article I read suggested that buying lots of toilet paper might be making people feel like they have some control over the coronavirus, and therefore helps to calm them. If that’s true, there must be a lot of very calm people out there.

Normal humidity in St. Louis at this time of year is about 40-50 percent. Thirty percent would be considered very low humidity. (Information provided by in-house meteorologist.) On Sunday, our humidity was 16 percent at its lowest; 17 percent when I took this screenshot.

So what do you get in this area when the humidity gets that low? A fire weather warning! If it’s not one thing, it’s another. At least it wasn’t a spring tornado.

2020 U.S. census forms were mailed yesterday and will be in a mailbox near you soon. How will you respond?

After deciding to get back to scanning old photos, I remembered two boxes of photos in storage–one from Ted’s family and one from mine that we received after our parents died. We took our respective boxes and went to work last night. Ted had more pictures to sort because I had already winnowed mine a little bit many years ago. It’s really interesting to go back through family history and to remember things that happened in the way back.

This four-generation picture taken on my mother’s first birthday, is one of the oldest family photos I have. From the left, that’s my grandpa (Lorenz Lorenzen), my mother (Violet), my great-great-grandmother (Eliza Lorenzen, paternal grandmother of my grandpa), and my great-grandfather (Peter Lorenzen, father of my grandpa and son of Eliza Lorenzen).

Jumping to my dad’s side of the family, that’s my great-grandmother, Johanna (Josie) Dell with her three children: (L>R) Gladys, Philip, and Mabel (my dad’s mother). Great-uncle Phil had an apple orchard just north of Hingham, my hometown. Grandma Dell lived about a hundred feet up the street from us and I remember walking up to visit with her when I’d see her sitting on her porch. She always seemed to have a cookie for me. She died when I was six years old.

Here’s Great-grandma Dell with her great-grandchildren in 1950. I hope I live to see this many great-grandchildren. That’s me and my brother Denny in the coaster wagon. My cousin Carol is the oldest and is standing right in front of Grandma. Carol died two years later of meningitis. My Grandma Soerens buried two grandchildren before she died–Carol and my four-year-old cousin Lori, who was killed by a hit-and-run driver. My Grandma Lorenzen buried her eight-year-old son (who died of a ruptured appendix), a stillborn grandson, and my oldest brother (Denny, who died at 27 in an Air Force plane crash). Ted and I are fortunate that our children and grandchildren are all healthy and with us.

Grandparents (including Ted and me) love to have pictures of themselves with their grandchildren. Here are Grandma and Grandpa Lorenzen on their 35th wedding anniversary with their grandchildren. I’m the oldest, in the center, and my brothers are to the right of me in the photo–Tom, Steve, and Denny. Russ is the little guy on the right at the table.

There were some fun pictures of siblings in my pile. Here’s my dad (back center) with four of his five siblings. There was one more to come.

As the older sister, I tried to help mom with this photograph by turning Denny’s head toward the camera. He didn’t like it.

This is Denny, me, and Steve. That’s not our dog, so it must be an early photo-bomber.

My dad built this little shed to store our trikes, bikes, wagons, and other outdoor toys. “Hey, kids! Wanna paint the shed?” That’s Steve and me, hard at work.

My mom took this picture of Dad, Steve, Denny, and me, but she never liked it. I think it was supposed to be a “planting and greening of the earth” moment, but she always said it looked like we were trying to eke out a living on a hardscrabble farm. Those are our raspberry bushes and cherry trees in the background.

Maybe modeling runs in the family. Here’s Grandma Lorenzen, Mom, and me struttin’ our stuff.

In the 1950s, the majority of married women did not have full-time jobs. Apparently, our homemaking training started early. Here I am, at about three years old, ironing my doll clothes in the left picture. The iron has a cord and actually warmed up a little bit. That’s why I’m testing it with my hand. On the right side of the left photo, you can see my doll, patiently waiting in her buggy for freshly ironed clothes.

In the right photo, I’ve got my household set up on the front porch. That’s Steve in the doll crib. Note that there’s a dresser for my doll’s clothes, a cupboard with doll dishes in it, a table and chairs, and a buggy for the baby doll. The two boys in the center are our neighbors; the girls might be their nieces who lived in Florida and visited every summer. (The boys had a much older brother and sister.)

I joined the Hingham Wide-Awakes 4-H Club when I was ten years old. One of my “projects” that I worked on each year was sewing (still learning to be a housewife). I’m eleven in the photos below and I’m modeling the clothes that I sewed and entered in the County Fair. The pictures went into my 4-H Record Book that I completed each year to describe my year’s club activities.

Another 4-H activity was demonstrations. We gave them at meetings and there was also a county-wide demonstration contest with cash prizes. Here I’m practicing my demonstration on how to make a scarf. It’s more documentation for my record book.

Since this was a pile of my family photos and since I was my parents’ first baby, there are a lot of pictures of me. Here are a few. I’m probably under a year old and enjoying my first winter. If the baby keeps falling off the sled, put her in a cardboard box.

My mom (and everyone else) had a wringer washing machine when I was little, and I used to “catch” the pieces of laundry as they came through the wringer. On my third birthday, my hand got caught in the turning rollers of the wringer and they scraped the skin off the back of my hand. All of my third birthday pictures show a big splotch of mercurochrome over the injury. Mercurochrome didn’t sting like iodine, but it actually had a little mercury in it, so it’s no surprise it was later banned.

I tried out for and got a part in most of the high school plays. Here I am, hoopskirts and all, in Jane Eyre. The home ec classes made the play costumes; the shop classes made the sets.

The last picture from this batch of historic photos shows me in my band uniform. I played first chair clarinet and I was also in the pep band. Pep band got me free admission to all the home games. Good times! Knowing my mom and the way she tried to make her photos look good, I suspect she removed the corner table to take this picture.

Ted and I made a Wal-Mart run and were surprised to see how many empty shelves there were in the store. Every department had gaping empty shelf spaces. Is the coronavirus affecting shipments and supplies? Are people buying and hoarding things faster than Wal-Mart can re-stock them? We don’t know, but it was a weird Wal-Mart shopping experience. Some of the empty shelves we saw were in groceries, . . .

kitchen utensils, . . .

pens and markers, . . .

pain-killing and fever-reducing medications, . . .

and germ-killing mouth washes.

I started scanning selected pictures from old photo albums and posted a few of them on this blog in August, October, and December 2018. Several months ago, one of my readers (name begins with “J”) asked when I was going to post some more old photos. With reader demand like that, I decided it was time to go through some more photo albums. Last night, I picked up where I left off more than a year ago. Let’s start with the big project of 1981.

Ted and I moved from Washington, D.C. to Missouri in July 1973, just six weeks after Kathy was born. Here’s where we lived in St. Charles.

We had a deck over the patio in the back of the house. We frequently used both levels, depending on whether we were looking for shade or sun. The patio included a gas grill / oven that was connected to the gas line for the house. I used it to cook roasts, casseroles, etc. and sometimes, when Ted came home after an evening shift, he’d grill hamburgers for the two of us out there after midnight. The galvanized watering tank was a popular style of backyard swimming pool in this area in those days. Question: how did we get it home with the Opel?

The back yard dropped sharply down to two drainage creeks. Ted and I built those two redwood bridges so we could access those parts of our yard. The swimming pool and swing set were in the “middle” back yard, and the garden was across the second creek in the “back” back yard. (The back yard against the house was the back yard.) This was a pretty view from the deck in the summer, especially when the garden was in full growth.

Thom and Kari were born while we lived in St. Charles and we needed a larger house. In 1979, we moved to St. Peters and bought our current house. The sale closing date was 7-9-79. The subdivision was very new and ours was the first house built on this plat. The house and the neighborhood were both undeveloped and stark when we moved in. I could wave to our nearest neighbor in the distance if we both got the mail at the same time and saw each other. For several years, we lived with constant construction noise as other families built houses in the subdivision.

The deck furniture and the watering tank swimming pool made the move with us. We used that watering tank pool for a week or two before we joined the subdivision swimming pool. Ted and Jeff walked to the pool (five vacant lots down the street) to see if we could buy a pro-rated membership for the remainder of the summer. I’ll never forget the look of pure joy on Jeff’s face when he and Ted came home with a family pool membership. We all put on our swimsuits and headed for the subdivision pool. Next question: How did we get rid of the watering tank?

In Spring 1981, we added a pergola over the patio so we could get some shade from the hot summer sun and sit outside. A local lumberyard had an architect on staff at no cost if we bought the lumber there. He came to our house and then drew blueprint plans (no computer plans in 1981) for us to use, including every detail down to how many lag bolts and washers we’d need. I remember showing them to someone once and the guy remarked, “You even have funny papers for your patio cover?!” In the photo below, the rough-sawn cedar lumber has been delivered and we’ve started working. Ted is admiring the good job we did affixing the first triangular support bracket to the brick on the house beside the back door. That took us an entire day! We finished the other two supports on the house in much less time.

It looks like we have sufficient bracing for the uprights. Except for lifting the three 18-foot 4 x 12 solid cedar beams projecting outward from the house, we did all the work ourselves. The beams weighed over 500 pounds each and it took Ted and two neighbor men (we had a few neighbors by 1981) to raise them onto the upright posts and the support brackets on the house.

One of our new neighbors had railroad clamps that he lent us. Those are the metal poles projecting above the top of the pergola, They made it possible to clamp the crossbeams to the layer below and hold them in place while we pounded in the nails.

Ted gave me the honor of putting in the last lag bolt. When we finished, the entire structure was solid. The architect told us that “sandwiching” the upright 4 x 4 posts with 2 x 6 boards would keep the 4 x 4s from warping. They never warped, and the pergola never wobbled.

The pergola is all stained and finished, and it looks good. After 30+ years, we had to replace the original, but we used the same blueprints because we like the design that much. The second time around, however, we could afford to hire a professional carpenter. I honestly don’t think his work was any better than ours.

Here’s how the house looked in August 2018, thirty-nine years later. When we bought it, it was at the top end of our budget, but we both loved it and decided to go for it. We’ve never been sorry and we still love it.

As University of Wisconsin alumni, Ted and I receive the UW magazine. We each found an especially interesting article in the current edition. My “find” is a philanthropic educational initiative. I know a number of universities have similar programs, and I’m proud that my alma mater is one of them. (FYI, Bucky Badger is the UW mascot, thus “Bucky’s Tuition Promise.”)

Ted’s favorite article is cuter and more fun.