I’m not the only one wondering if winter will ever end.  Ted saw this on Facebook.

It’s a dated post.  Today is the 106th of January.

I’m not imagining it.  It’s true.  We’ve had so many cold, gray, and rainy days since February, that we’re a month behind on spring.  The normal high and low temperatures for today are 67 and 47 degrees, but we had a high of 43, with snow flurries and a freeze warning forecast for tonight.

After snow last Sunday, we had two days in the upper 70s last week.  That was just enough to convince our magnolia trees that they should open their long-ready buds–a month late.  The blooms, however, are proof that spring is late and that the weather has truly been as crummy and as cold as it seemed.

Normal spring

This is one of our magnolia trees on March 16, 2016.

 

2018 spring

This is the same magnolia tree today, April 15, 2018.  The outer petals of the buds froze several weeks ago.  By staying closed, the frozen outer petals protected the blooms, but the color suffered.  They’ll freeze completely tonight.  Note also the rain-wet streets–again.  (But the grass looks good.)

It’s spring (except weatherwise), so that means it’s concert time.  Ted and I were able to attend the orchestra concert at Hardin Middle School, featuring Sky and Dylan on their cellos.  They play much better than they did when they started, and it’s obvious that the music is more difficult than “Three Blind Mice”–one of the first pieces they learned several years ago.  The music was wonderful and, thanks to daylight saving time, it was still light outside when the concert was finished.

I couldn’t see Dylan very well from where we were sitting.  Follow the arrows to find Sky and Dylan.  Yes, that’s Dylan hidden behind the scroll of the cello played by the boy on Sky’s right.

 

Dylan is (a little) more visible in this close-up.  Sky takes this music seriously.

My sister-in-law, Mutzie, sent me an email filled with map graphics that show a variety of interesting facts.  This map made me glad it’s not 1969 any more.

Hard to imagine, isn’t it?

Celebrate!  In honor of National Siblings Day, let’s re-visit July 2004.

Really, Steve?  Making bunny ears on yourself??

I recently posted a cat image of the world Ted received from one of his friends.  Shortly after that, my brother Steve sent me some of his favorite animal-like views of the world’s land masses.

The Mercator projection of North and South America produces this duck image.

 

Without the labels, these Australian animal profiles could be part of the Rorschach test.

“April is the cruellest month.”

                     The Waste Land, by T. S. Eliot

 

Yesterday:  High temperature of 66 degrees; sunshine; warm breeze; birds singing; sitting outdoors and enjoying a good read.  Spring!

 

Today:  Temperature going down from a morning high of 51 to a predicted low of 24 degrees; currently 38 degrees with a wind chill of 30; cloudy; wind gusting at 25 mph; birds hunkering down in their nests; rain on the way (formerly expected to be snow, but we’re catching a break); no one sitting outdoors.  Back to winter.

 

Note:  Eliot had insider information about the capricious nature of April weather.  He was from St. Louis.

I don’t normally think, “I know what I’ll do today–I’ll look through some old folders,” but every time I look through old folders, I find something enjoyable.  Obviously, I have the good sense to fill my folders with interesting memorabilia.

Today, I was trying to find a document in an old folder and found some information my dad probably sent me about Hingham, WI, my hometown.  I had totally forgotten that Hingham has an Historic District with 13 buildings that were recognized August 6, 1994.  I remember all the buildings, even though some have been updated and don’t look like they did when I lived there.  Presumably, they have not been altered since 1994, but I left for college in 1965 so there was plenty of time for change before the buildings became “historic.”

If there were 200 people living in Hingham while I was growing up, that was probably a high estimate.  The 2010 census counted 886 residents of Hingham, so the town–still unincorporated–has grown.  I never thought much about living there and never thought it was anything special, so I was impressed when I read that Hingham, originally platted in 1850, was “one of the early and prominent communities in Sheboygan County.”  (Prominent?  Hingham?)  In 1890, however, the railroad was laid two miles west and “effectively ended the town’s emerging status.”  The railroad went through Adell, where my family went to church.  The 2010 census gives Adell 516 people, so I don’t think the loss of the railroad had any major long-term effect on Hingham’s emerging status.

If accumulated stuff is supposed to be thrown away unless it is useful or joyful, this folder gets to stay.  It was joyful to find this information on an unseasonably cold April afternoon.

A grade school friend’s dad owned the Hingham Feed Mill.  It originally operated with a millrace to turn the mill wheel.  Kids used to swim in the millrace.

 

The Hingham Hall was the gathering place of the town.   In the summer, it was ground zero for kick-the-can games and for bike tag (you play tag biking around town instead of running, and the Hall steps were “home free”).  During the school year, it was the venue for school plays and for roller skating parties sponsored by the 4-H club.

 

One of my grade school classmates lived upstairs in the George Poole Store.  I don’t think she knew it was an historic building.  At that time, her dad owned it and it was the Clover Farms grocery store.  My great-grandma Dell lived in Whitcomb House.  When I was five years old, I remember walking the short distance from my house to hers to visit with her on her porch.  She often offered me a cookie.  Maybe she enjoyed baking cookies as much as I do.

 

If I had drawn this map, I would have included “the pond” in the blank space bordered by Co. Hwy. F and Water St.  The pond is where we went ice skating in the winter and swimming in the summer.  Along with the fire escape on the “old grade school,” the pond was a defining feature of the town to my friends and me.   Until I saw this map, I had no idea I lived on Maine Street!   It’s spelled “Maine” on the map, but “Main” on the picture of Whitcomb House.  Either way, it wasn’t Main(e) St. when I lived in Hingham.

When Kathy was here for my birthday weekend, I learned that this is her favorite cartoon.  It’s from The New Yorker magazine.  When we found it for her, she laughed again–as she’s apparently been doing since 10/10/94.

 

Because it’s a tradition.

“You may ask, how did this tradition get started?  I’ll tell you.  I don’t know.  But it’s a tradition.”–Tevye, Fiddler on the Roof

A few weeks ago, I discovered the secret of perfect Vienna Torte custard frosting.  Now I’ve cracked the code for delicious cherry pie.  My cherry pies are always ok, but not great.  Ted’s mom made delicious cherry pies but, for unknown reasons, I never asked her for her recipe.  “Aha!” I thought.  “Perhaps Ted’s sister, Mutzie, has her mother’s cherry pie recipe.  I’ll ask her.”

Mutzie’s response to my request was that she doesn’t bake much.  She did, however, have a Door County cookbook and thought that, since Door County is famous for its cherries, there might be a cherry pie recipe in it.  Sure enough, there is, and it’s called (surprise!) “Door County Cherry Pie.”  Mutzie doesn’t use the cookbook, so she offered it to me and I accepted.

I discovered some forgotten Door County cherries from last summer in the freezer and decided to try the recipe.  It tastes just like Ted’s mom’s delicious cherry pie.  Thanks, Mutzie.

It seems that spring has forgotten Missouri.  We had a few hours of warm weather this morning (a high of 73 degrees), but the cold front moved in around 2:00 pm and the temperature is rapidly falling to a predicted low of 27.  Tomorrow’s high is forecast to be 40 degrees–and so goes the rest of the ten-day forecast.  Missouri and I are not the only ones disappointed by the absence of spring.  I found this news blurb back on March 22, but the weather hasn’t improved since then, so it’s still timely.

While we were waiting for Jim, the salesman, at the pool store last weekend, we were looking at the display room walls covered with prize-winning pool designs.  We’ve done this before to kill time while we’re waiting for assistance, but there are so many awards on so much wall space that this is the first time we got to the wall with our pool on it.

 

This is one section of an award-covered wall, including our pool.

And here’s “our” plaque.  Third place, yes, but still an award-winning design.  The designer told us at the time that this was the first time he designed brick trim in the deck area rather than just using it around the edges of the pool itself.  (There’s more brick trim around the ladder across the pool, but you can’t see it very well in the sunlight.)

Temperature:  25 degrees

Precipitation:  rain, freezing rain, sleet, and snow

Bonus:  thunder!

Road conditions:  improving–the snowplow just went by our house.

So much for all the flowering buds that were almost ready to open.  April Fool!

The normal high and low temperatures for St. Peters at this time of the year are 61 and 42 degrees.  The weather forecast, however, is predicting high temperatures between 28 and 49 degrees for the next ten days and lows below freezing for six of those ten nights.  Up to two inches of snow is forecast for tomorrow.

So today we bought a new liner for our pool and set up a pool opening date to have it installed. . . . And that’s how you define optimism.

I love having my birthday on the first day of spring–even if the wind chill was 24 degrees when I got up this morning.  Google and Snoopy are celebrating with me.

Kathy and Annette came for a weekend visit to celebrate my birthday.  When they arrived, we headed to Pizza Hut to meet Kari’s family.  The boys had not planned to join us for lunch, because they thought we were going to have something like grilled cheese at the house.  When they heard we were going out for pizza, they announced that “Pizza Hut trumps grilled cheese” and immediately found time in their busy schedules to join us.

I saw the kids less than two weeks ago, and Sky was almost taller than I am.  Today, when I saw him, I was looking up into his eyes just a little bit.  I now have four grandsons taller than I am and three more who are growing quickly.

 

The girls, Ted, and I spent the afternoon catching up with each other while the kids played, and then we had a birthday dinner with gifts and cake.

The woman who has it all:  family, birthday gifts, and a perfect Vienna Torte.

Kari’s family gave me a book I can’t wait to read and a voucher for a lunch date with Kari.  That means there’s some quality mom-daughter time coming up soon.  The hand soap and lotion are from Kathy and Annette.

 

When I was about 11 or 12, my Aunt Shirley gave me a pretty bisque porcelain flower pot with hand-painted raised flowers on one side.  I could never get anything to grow in it, but I love it.  Some time ago, I gave it to Creative Kathy and asked her to think of a way to make the flower pot pretty to display.  She filled it with flowers to match those on the pot.

With a table runner Kari made, the enhanced flower pot is a perfect spring centerpiece for the kitchen table.

 

The big finish for the birthday dinner was the perfect Vienna Torte I made yesterday.  Yum!

Teddy (left) is in a state of supreme happiness anticipating the cake.  He came back later and asked for a second piece.  Of course, Grandma said “yes.”

 

The weekend was over too quickly.  Now I’m looking forward to my remaining birthday lunches / dinners with friends and with Ted–two down and five to go.  I love my birthday season!

My favorite birthday cake is Vienna Torte–a recipe from my grandmother.  It’s a chiffon cake with a custard frosting.  My mom always made it for my birthday, and I started making it after Ted and I were married.

I never have trouble making a great chiffon cake, but it’s always a challenge to achieve the right texture for the custard frosting.  Grandma’s Vienna Torte frosting recipe tells me to cool the custard and then to “add powdered sugar, butter, and vanilla.”  That’s what Mom did and that’s what I’ve done every time I made the cake.  A few times, it has turned out perfectly; most of the time, the custard is runny instead of fluffy.  It firms up in the refrigerator and tastes fine, but its unpredictable consistency is frustrating.

This year, I decided to see if Google had any ideas related to custard frostings.  I searched “frosting recipes with custard and butter and powdered sugar” and–surprise!–found several.  They weren’t exactly like Grandma’s, but I found four that required cooking a custard, letting it cool, and then combining it with butter and powdered sugar.  Each of the online recipes, however, directed me to first whip the butter; then to whip it with the powdered sugar; and then to add the custard to the butter/powdered sugar mixture and whip it.  I have always done the opposite:  added the other ingredients to the custard.

Using Grandma’s recipe and following the online whipping directions produced a perfect custard frosting!  Maybe that’s what Grandma did all along and she just didn’t write it down for herself and/or future generations.  After all these years, I can finally make stress-free Vienna Torte for my birthday.

I have to go now so I can do my happy dance.

Today, Ted and I went shopping for groceries and had the opportunity to observe Channel 4’s “Weather Radio Wednesday.”  In early spring (pre-tornado season), Channel 4’s weather team visits a different metro area location each Wednesday from 3:30-6:30 pm.  This Wednesday, they were at our local St. Peters grocery store.  They had weather radios for sale, and were also available to program weather radios to sound alerts for the metro area county of the user’s choice.

The line to reach the Weather Radio Wednesday team stretched the length of the store aisle, and then curved another 8-10 people around the corner.

Two weather team members (blue shirts) covered the weather radio sales and programming.

Channel 4’s chief meteorologist (on the right in a blue shirt with a Channel 4 logo patch) did public relations duties with the crowd and also broadcast his 5:00 pm and 6:00 pm weathercasts from this location.

 

This was a popular event.  I heard the store manager say it was like Christmas, with people cruising the parking lot, looking for a place to park.  Ted and I can verify this, as we needed to park on the perimeter of the parking lot.  Thankfully for us, the grocery-purchase lines were much shorter than the weather radio line.

In The Proposal, Betty White (the grandma) gives Sandra Bullock (the soon-to-be granddaughter-in-law) a necklace that has come down through the family.  When Sandra protests, Betty insists that grandmas love to give their things away because it means they’ll still be around in some way after they die.  This is true.

A few years ago, I gave Kyra, my only granddaughter (as she likes to remind us), a few pieces of my jewelry.  I wasn’t sure if she’d wear them or not, but I hoped she would at least treasure them as a memento of me.

Kyra is currently serving on a mission for her church in Bakersfield, CA.  She sends a weekly email message and always includes some photos about what’s going on in her life.  Today, as I was scrolling through the pictures she sent, I recognized a necklace from me on her neck.

Yes, grandmas love to give their things away.  They love it even more when they see their granddaughters enjoying those things.

This is me at three years old.  Check out the necklace.  I’ll bet my mom made that skirt and blouse.  The decorative bow in my hair that matches the skirt is definitely her touch, and she loved to do detailed sewing like the blouse.

Here’s Kyra.  Check out her necklace.  Beautiful girl, treasured necklace, and a little tear of happiness in grandma’s eye.

Today’s Google doodle features William Henry Perkins, a British chemist and entrepreneur who accidentally discovered the first synthetic dye.  In 1856, when he was just 18 years old, Perkins was trying to synthesize quinine to treat malaria.  His experiment failed and, instead of quinine, his beakers were filled with a dirty brown sludge.  When he cleaned the beakers with alcohol, the sludge became a bright, rich purple dye that he called mauveine.  A long chain of chemical advances resulted in a bright, inexpensive synthetic color available to the masses.  Thanks to Perkins, we don’t have to smash roots and berries to have colorful clothing.

In its apparently never-ending quest for health, happiness, and statistics, Google studied consumption of its employees’ favorite candy:  m&m’s®.  Organic figs, nuts, and other healthy snacks were placed in clear containers; m&m’s® were put into opaque containers.  After seven weeks, the 2,000 Google employees in the New York office consumed 3.1 million fewer calories in m&m’s® form.  That was the equivalent of nine vending machine-size bags of m&m’s® for each of the 2,000 employees in the seven-week period!

I have only minimal will power when it comes to m&m’s®, so I rarely buy them.  If, however, they are placed in front of me (e.g., at an event or given as a gift for, say, my birthday), I give myself permission to eat them.  Kathy and Annette gave me a vending machine-size bag of m&m’s® for Christmas as well as an opaque container for them.  After we took down the Christmas tree, I put the little bagful of m&m’s® into the container and set it on the kitchen counter in plain sight.  (This was a gift, so my rules gave me permission to eat the candy.)  Google’s research is right:  That little bag of m&m’s® lasted more than a week.  The letters on the container are far less tempting than those colorful little chocolate bits in an open dish, and I pour fewer pieces into my hand than I grab from an open bowl.  Go, Google!

I bravely purchased an 11-ounce bag of Easter m&m’s and put the little pastel temptresses into the opaque jar. After more than two weeks, nearly half of the bag’s contents is still in the jar, even with “Chocoholic Ted” helping me eat them.

Dr. William Anthony, a Boston University professor, wanted to spotlight the health benefits of napping.  In 1999, he selected the Monday after the change to daylight saving time to celebrate National Napping Day.  He knew that after losing an hour of sleep, people would already be in nap mode.

To celebrate, thank Dr. Anthony and treat yourself to a 20-minute nap today.

Ted’s and my Pilates class meets Monday and Wednesday mornings.  The previous session ended Monday, March 5 and the next session doesn’t begin until Monday, March 12.  Without that Wednesday class, we had a full seven days without Pilates, our only specifically scheduled exercise.  The weather has been cold, gray, and gloomy and Ted and I have been reading some very good books.  We decided to live on the edge and take a whole week off from exercise.  The plan was to just take it easy, and don’t accomplish much for a week.  After all, what’s retirement for if you can’t do stuff like that?

I made it three days.  By the fourth day, I felt like such a slug, I had to get out and walk at least two miles.  Ted held out until the next day, and we’ve exercised every day since then.  We didn’t see any walkers going past our house today because the weather is that bad, but we were out there, raising the bar for everyone else.

Right after Russia launched Sputnik in 1957, our schools were participating in the President’s Physical Fitness Program–also launched in 1957.  (Coincidence?  I think not.)  Maybe all that “beat the Russians” exercise in grade school successfully conditioned Ted and me to get up and get out, and spoiled us for inactivity.

Ted and I were working in the back yard last week and noticed that one of our redbud trees wasn’t looking good.  It’s been failing for several years, and we had a major limb cut out of it a few years ago.  Last week’s inspection revealed the base of the tree looking so rotted, we were afraid a spring wind storm would blow it over.  It would then hit (1) our storage shed; (2) our pool fence; or (3) our neighbor’s sunroom windows.  Every option would require a repair.  Ted called the tree company and they came to the house today, chainsaws in hand, to remove the 31-year-old tree.

Men at work.  They cut the main limbs away, one by one.  Two guys held a rope around the soon-to-fall limb while the third guy cut it off with his chain saw.

The final limb bit the dust, guided just to the left of the neighbors’ sunroom, and is lying on the ground.  No more redbud tree; no broken windows.

This is the rot Ted and I saw at the base of the tree last week.  The other side of the trunk looked the same.

The inside of the tree was mostly rotted away at the base, and the space was filled with leaves.  Squirrels at work?

When the cutter sliced the trunk into pieces that could be carried to the truck, the slices broke into chunks instead of holding together as a single unit.  The cutter’s comment:  “That’s not good.”  He said it was a good thing we had the tree removed, because it was definitely going to fall down very soon.

The last step:  recycle.  The tree is now mulch and is ready to enrich the earth from whence it came.

This gorgeous photo was taken by Malcolm Denmark, a Florida Today photographer.  It shows the launch of the SpaceX Falcon 9 rocket at Cape Canaveral early this morning.  Ooh, aah.

My brother Tom sent a cartoon to my siblings and me and it reminded me of some related cartoons I’ve saved over the years.

English majors always try to be grammatically correct, . . .

 

. . . they can be challenged when looking for employment, . . .

 

. . . and they sometimes find the perfect niche.  Thanks, Tom.

Kari was notified that Teddy would be receiving three awards at school today, so she invited Ted and me to attend the assembly.  Each classroom teacher gave awards for subjects taught in that classroom.  Special subjects included art, music, computers, etc. in addition to reading, writing, math, and the Big 3–given to one student in each class for being a safe, respectful, and responsible learner.  We were very proud of Teddy.

In the special subjects category, Teddy received a music award.  He’s on the far left.

Next was the classroom reading award.  He’s on the right in the back row.

Teddy’s third award was the Big 3.  Kari said the teacher told her Teddy is the most mature child in her classroom.  (Check it out.  The boy on Teddy’s right is wearing a shirt that says “Fossil Fuel” and has a picture of a dinosaur riding a motorcycle.)

The Big 3 includes a medal in addition to the certificate.  Here’s our winner.

 

Today was also Hat Day at school.  Most of the hats were cute, but not remarkable.  Some kids went for the extremes.

A Beefeater, perhaps?

World’s largest hat?

No hat, but the boy in the middle wore a three-piece suit and a tie for the event.  He looks bored here, but he was excited about his award and was glad-handing everyone.  Future politician?

Back at Kari’s house, we celebrated all these certificates with fresh-baked raisin bread and fresh caramel-frosted chocolate cupcakes.

 

Meanwhile, outside in Kari’s driveway, the Camry lives on.  Ted and I bought the Camry in March 1992.  It wouldn’t die, and we got sick of driving it, so Ted replaced it with a 2003 Solara and we gave the Camry to Kathy.  In December 2017, Kathy bought the Prius from us and gave the Camry to Kari.  Those Toyota cars just won’t quit!

 

It’s so much fun to live close to one of our kids’ families so we can regularly be a part of days like this.

Ted and I are currently in the process of working with our travel agent to plan our Australian trip.  With that in mind, check out this drawing one of Ted’s friends sent him.

 

The rough outline of our trip has us traveling from late November into early January.  The itinerary gives us two days in Bali to recover from jet lag; a 15-day cruise from Bali to the northern and eastern  Australian coasts, ending with two days in Sydney (part of the cruise); and then immediately continuing with a 15-day cruise (same ship, same stateroom) along the eastern side of New Zealand, ending with two days in Auckland.  Then we’ll fly to Sydney to spend 3-4 days with our Australian friends, Mark and Tracey, whom we met on our 2015 European river cruise.  After that, we’ll go back to winter in St. Louis.

Thank you, National Weather Service, for observing meteorological seasons, making today the first day of spring.  I love spring!

With all the hoopla about Hamilton, Ted and I said that when the show comes to St. Louis, we’ll go.  The time is now.  Hamilton will be playing at the Fabulous Fox Theater in St. Louis from April 3-22.  I went to the Fabulous Fox website to buy tickets today.

 

Tickets are $80-$500.  Ok, we knew they’d be high and we would have gone as high as $150 each, depending on the seats.  So I clicked to select tickets and got this message.

 

So that’s why people are tuning in to Channel 4’s 4:30 a.m. newscast–they’re hoping to win the two tickets Channel 4 is giving away every day.  Next step:  Stubhub.  Look at what I found on that website.

 

Yes, $175 was the lowest and $1,642 was the highest price for a single ticket.  Sheesh!  My conscience has a problem paying $100+ per hour (plus the service fees) for a theater performance.  Just to compare, I checked the prices in New York City and they run the same.  These prices made me wonder how much Hamilton earned as Secretary of the Treasury.  I couldn’t find a dollar amount, but I found this tidbit (editor needed–again!–for the fourth and the last line).

 

Hamilton’s salary might have been modest, but tickets to see his story aren’t!  I wonder how early we’d have had to buy tickets to find any of those $80-$500 tickets available directly from the Fox.  In a few years, Hamilton will probably be playing at the St. Louis Municipal Opera (Muny)–our wonderful outdoor theater–and tickets will be more reasonably priced.  And then there will be the movie.  Meanwhile, Ted is going to record the 4:30 a.m. Channel 4 newscast.  Maybe we’ll get lucky!

 

Editorial comment:  I think it’s sad that only wealthy people can afford to attend events like theater performances, major league sporting events, and concerts.  Not only do we have a wide disparity in annual income in our country, but prices like this are fostering a wide disparity in educational and cultural experiences as well.

Today we received a postcard in the mail from Brad.  We didn’t even know we were interested in selling our house, but it sounds like Brad is ready to move into the closing process with T.

Google Earth hasn’t been to our house for awhile.  We had this tree removed in 2012.  It was in its death throes for about three years before that, with a skimpy cover of under-sized leaves.

It’s been awhile since I found a reporting error that irritated me enough to share it, but it happened again today.  The article was published in the aftermath of the school shooting in Parkland, FL.  In the following excerpt from the news article, the author erroneously identifies two of the three generations mentioned.

 

Just as their grandparents feared polio . . .

Dr. Jonas Salk’s polio vaccine was developed in 1953 and was available for public use in 1955.  Dr. Albert Sabin’s oral polio vaccine was available for use in 1961.  I was vaccinated with both.  A local drugstore provided the injections, and I remember going there after church on Sundays for the series of three injections.  I also remember taking the pink oral vaccine dropped onto sugar cubes.  It was from 1916 until the 1950s that polio was an annual summertime threat in one part or another of the United States.  The worst U.S. polio epidemic occurred in 1949, claiming 2,700+ lives.  I was two years old that year, and my oldest brother was an infant.  It was my parents–“Generation Columbine’s” great-grandparents, born just before and during the 1920s–who feared polio throughout their lives, especially for their children, including Ted and me.  I don’t remember being afraid of polio, but I know that large public gatherings were avoided during the summer months and public swimming pools were often closed during the 1940s and 1950s to prevent the spread of polio.  I do remember my 4-H club collecting money from the good citizens of Hingham for the March of Dimes to support the fight to eradicate polio.

 

. . . and their parents feared nuclear war, . . .

Six of my eight grandchildren were born after the 1999 Columbine school shooting.  (Alex and Kyra were born in 1997 and 1998, respectively.)  Their parents are my children, born between 1972 and 1978.  The Berlin Wall fell in 1989 when Jeff was 17, and the Cold War was lukewarm long before that.  The parents of “Generation Columbine” did not live in fear of nuclear war; it was their grandparents–Ted and me–who were afraid Khrushchev would hit the nuclear button at any moment.  In the 1950s–my elementary school years–some public buildings had fallout shelter signs on them, indicating that those buildings could protect us from nuclear fallout in the event of an atomic war.  (Hah!)  I doubt if “Generation Columbine’s” parents ever saw one of these signs.

 

In summary, there is a “Generation Columbine” and there were generations who feared polio and the Cold War.  The author of the article named one of the three groups correctly, but he is off by a full generation for two-thirds of his main idea.  Aarrgghh!  Don’t journalists have to check their facts before publishing?  Don’t they use proofreaders?  Apparently not.

My dad loved Hostess Twinkies, and my mom packed one in his lunch every day.  I’m pretty sure Twinkies have negative nutritional value and an expiration date of “when the world ends.”  I wonder if Dad would have appreciated this treat for Easter dinner.

Go, Elon Musk!  Of the 500,000+ objects of space junk orbiting the earth, the Tesla driven by Spaceman is way cooler than the old satellites and spent rocket boosters up there.  The best part of the launch might have been the return of the reusable booster rockets to the launch pad.  Wow!

 

An English major’s work is never finished.  Notice that, even in cartoons, there’s a need for a good editor.

I gave up Facebook at least six months ago.  I didn’t delete my account, but I quit trolling through my news feed regularly.  I was never a very active participant on Facebook–about 50 posts since I joined in 2010.  I think my last post was in March last year, and then I changed my profile picture in November.  I probably check my news feed once a month or less.  After 5-10 minutes of reading, I’m bored, so I close the (Face)book.  My Facebook activity ended the evening I caught myself thinking, “I’m so tired, I just want to go to bed, but I still have to check my Facebook news feed.”  Really???  I quit cold turkey that night, and I have never missed it.

I thought I was a brave individual, breaking away from the herd, but that was before I read an article earlier this week that said twenty-some percent of Facebook users use the app less than they did a year ago.  Reasons include the increasing presence of fake news and partisan politics, as well as what was described as “Fakebook”–people posting photos of their new cars, their exotic vacations, and tributes to their unbelievably wonderful family members (gag!).  Apparently, this makes readers feel inadequate because their own lives aren’t that (pun intended) picture perfect.  I like my life, so that wasn’t my reason for backing off;  I just got tired of reading the same stuff from the same people every day.  If anyone seriously wants me to know what s/he is doing on a given day, give me a call or send me an email!

Having said all that, on my once-per-month troll of my news feed, I found this cute picture posted by a friend.  He didn’t mention where it was from, but he has a young grandchild, and this is the kind of humor kids that age love.  The occasional post like this is why I haven’t deleted my FB account.  Yet.