THE BIRTHDAY COUNTDOWN

 

                                                                                 

Sometimes I like to stop at a coffee shop and watch people (my guilty pleasure) and write. Usually, I make lists. Today I had absolutely no paper. That's what happens when a person changes to a smaller purse. Pens and paper should always be considered an essential. I know that. Luckily, there were napkins available, so I put together a little booklet. I probably should have tried the paper towels. These were a little thin for the pen. So, this is the list. It's not a To Do list, or a Shopping list, even though it contains some of both. Here are thirty-one things I want to do during my birthday month. They aren't in any specific order:

1. Wear a summer dress just because. Finding a dress has not been easy, especially since I don't like to shop. So far, two purchases have gone directly to Goodwill, because they did not work for me, and returning them was more expensive than the original purchase. Online shopping doesn't always work and isn't as advertised. Buyer Beware. I don't know why, but I always expect the garment and me to look like the photo.

2. Make basil salt. I know I don't cook or garden much anymore, but I do have a nice little basil plant.

3. Have a tarot reading.

4. Schedule all the wellness appointments I have been avoiding.

5. Have a fancy tea party for one. (Still looking for the missing tea set.)

6. Have a meal at a new place.

7. Buy some summer work-out clothes. I am sweltering in the raggy ones I wear. 

8. Simplify my crafting supplies. I could never use all that I have.

9. Take a road trip.

10. Get a new calendar.

11. Take a trip to the bookstore.

12. Take a walk in the park.

13. Write a letter and mail it.

14. Update my journal.

15. Go to a movie. With popcorn

16. Visit a local farmers market.

17. Send some postcards randomly.

18. Order a drink that I've never had.

19. Work on my book outline.

20. Press some flowers and frame them.

21. Join something. 

22. Quit something I don't enjoy any more.

23. Make a list of future projects.

24. Write a story from a picture.

25. Clean out purse. Don't forget the notebook or index cards. They are much better than napkins.

26. Polish my nails.

27. Send a gift for no reason. Maybe even make it an anonymous surprise.

28. Organize photos. haha

29. Listen in coffee shops.

30. Compliment a stranger.

31. Compliment an acquaintance.

As I learned at Caribou today: "Life is short. Stay awake for it." I accept this challenge. I will check in with a progress report at the end of the month.

Happy July

 

Today is July 1st. I am happy to see July because I am always ready for June to end. Oh, and it's my birthday. Did I mention it's my birthday? I'm not sure why, but those of us with birthdays in July always think we need to celebrate for the entire month. Truly, I thought I was the only one, but when I look around, I can see that it is practically universal. And totally understandable. It may be because the year is half over, or because we know we still have half of the year left. It could be because this is the middle of summer. Maybe because we have a holiday this month. And because it is a great month for a party!

I become very pensive when it is time for my birthday. It's almost like it's mandatory to make resolutions. A couple of years ago I listed 75 things that I've learned. I don't think I will have 77 new ones this year, so I'll just read the old ones again. This year I am going to do something every day to celebrate. 1. Today I wore a summer dress all day. That does sound silly, but I seldom wear a dress, especially at home for no reason. And it has pockets, which makes it especially noteworthy. Now, I only have to think of thirty more things.

It feels like summer, especially since we are having a heat wave, but stores make me feel like I am way behind with my seasons. I saw school supplies the other day. And Halloween and Christmas decor has been available for a few weeks. I can only think about one season at a time. Does decorating for the seasons seems to be a lot more widespread than it used to be? Maybe because so much is available online. People I talk to tell me they are doing less. Downsizing is a big word now. Is it a trend or do we just like to say it? I look around and I want to do away with a lot of what is about, but then I want to add more too. It's a conundrum! 

This week the fourth (and final) podcast of my talk with Candee Lucas, the host of Solace: soul+grief. She is a chaplain in California and works with the grieving. I've known her since we were in the sixth grade. We have never lost touch, but don't often communicate. She contacted me to interview me for these recordings and we talked for over an hour, about a lot of feelings I've never put into words before. I really didn't know how this would turn out, because it was way beyond my comfort zone, but I really think I had a lot of helpful insights about this subject. She split our interview into four fifteen-minute segments. I know this is a story that many won't want to listen to, but for those who do this was the beginning of my "Second Story"

(I listened to this on Spotify, but you can look it up on whatever podcast you use.)

 I have been wanting to read Lady Tremaine since I first saw the book jacket. I finally started the sample on Kindle last week and it left me wanting to know what would happen next. I tried to get it at the library; found out I could read it on the Libby library app but there were 127 people ahead of me! Estimated wait time was five months.  I don't usually buy new novels. They have gotten so expensive (like just about everything else). I love to read real books but usually use an e-reader for fiction. I'm really fond of the samples I can get, because they will usually let me know whether I want to bother with the whole thing.

I always used to finish a book whether I really liked it or not. I don't do that anymore. I also wanted to read books in order. Recently I read books 1 and 3 of a trilogy. I got a good idea of what happened in the second book just by reading the third. I may go back to the second later.  The books by Lindsey Davis about first century Rome are always good. I started with the fourteenth because that was the only one the library had. I've been jumping around ever since, between the e-reader and used books on Amazon.

Lady Tremaine is a retelling of the Cinderella fairy tale. It is written from the point of view of her stepmother. It's been described as a story of mothers and the steps they will go to protect their children. It's also a bit of a love story, but not with the Prince. In fact, he isn't a very nice character at all. It's a very readable book, and the author's sentence structure is so good that I re-read several lines just because they sounded so beautiful.

I liked it. Mostly. I didn't love it. I'm at the point in life where I don't want to read something unless I really love it. I want to get lost in a book and really care about the characters. I want it to have a happy ending and I want to be sad when it ends. This book just.....ended. It did have an epilogue, but it wasn't enough for me.

There is no fairy godmother. I think the point, though never mentioned, is that we all have to be our own fairy godmother. I want the sparkly one who does magic. And, of course, another thing is that women don't need to rely on a Prince to make them feel valued. I can see that this would be a very good book for a book club. There is a lot to discuss. Maybe we don't need a Prince, but everyone should have a Fairy Godmother.

There are lots of adaptations of the Cinderella story. There is another book published recently about the stepmother. I may try it.

My favorite of the movies is the one from 2015. Lily James was Cinderella, with Cate Blanchett as Lady Tremaine, and my favorite, Helena Bonham Carter was the perfect Fairy Godmother

"Have courage and be kind. For where there is kindness there is goodness, and where there is goodness, there will be magic." Cinderella

Peanuts and Crackerjacks

 

We took a little road trip this week and went to see our grandson play baseball. They live too far away for us to see too many of the games, but this was fun. His team is the eight- to ten-year-old age slot, so they are at the point where you start to see a lot of improvement. I've been to a lot of Little League games over the years, but I have never been what anyone could call a sports fan.

With five children growing up, there were years when practices, and games took a lot of time. My two boys played ball. My youngest daughter also played baseball, not softball. That was kind of unusual for the time. There weren't too many girls on the teams.

Two of my girls were gymnasts, so for years we had three practices a week, and meets all over the state for what seemed like every weekend. I enjoyed watching gymnastics. The worst part of it was that they expected nearly absolute quiet. So the moms would always sit on the bleachers barely talking. I brought a lot of craft and sewing projects to work on during those years. This was way before the time of cell phones. We wouldn't have been able to have them in the gym anyway. It was a sacred and silent place!

The ball fields were a lot more casual and laid back. All the younger kids would run around and have a great time playing and the moms would catch up on everything going on in their lives and neighborhoods. A lot of this is still the same over 40 years later. And a lot is different. Parenting styles have changed a bit over the years. Sportsmanship is still important, even though sometimes things can get a little heated. This was a good game, and I thought our team was going to win up until the last inning. It was exciting. 

Most of our trips now are short ones. Neither of my husbands really liked to travel. I'm pretty sure that Jim had a 23-hour time limit. He never wanted to be gone longer than that. Once he even woke us all up at three a.m. to leave a weekend family reunion after the first evening. John's family all seemed surprised that we were spending the night away from home. I don't think he's that predictable. We have been on several one- or two-day trips around the Midwest. And who could ever forget our debacle of a honeymoon!

Lucky for me, nobody cared if I wanted to travel, so I have been on  quite a few longer trips over the years. But even my love for adventure is starting to slow down. I am always, always happy to return home, no matter where I go!

WHAT I AM READING:  Lady Tremaine by Rachel Hochhauser

A Retelling of the Cinderella Story. Was her stepmother really that wicked or was she just misunderstood? We will find out and let you know.

CAREFUL WHAT YOU WISH FOR

Last week I wrote about the peacefulness of June after the busyness of May. I was looking forward to not having to worry about having too much to do. In my head I was planning to float through the month while I enjoyed quiet times with books and a feather duster (and maybe an apron) as I caught up with little chores and treated myself to little pleasures.

As we know, life has a way of sending our plans awry. I can say I totally dilly-dallied the week away. I managed to get sick and spent the days taking antibiotics and very long naps. Now seven days have gone by and the only productive thing I've done all week is unload the dishwasher.

I am finally feeling better but still have one more doctor appointment. I'm sure by that time everything will be fine. It seems like I always hear "Well, it is probably this, but of course the specialist needs to check it out, just to make sure that it isn't....THAT!  And then, of course, no specialist has an appointment available for at least two months. Thanks to a very determined nurse, who contacted four different offices, she finally found one with a cancellation. I'm sure I will be feeling fine and normal by the time I see the doctor and try to convince him that I really was in a "no good, terrible, very bad" way.  

It's true that we never know how healthy we feel until we don't. It's something I don't think about enough. But when I do, I realize I have had just one thing after another lately. So now I have vowed to myself to be more conscious about taking better care of myself.  I almost said "Be Better." And then I laughed at myself.  There's a chance that I may be a little delirious. It's been a strange week.

My problem with vows is that I never want to start them today. I think that secret is to begin Today. I am always willing to begin tomorrow. Preferably after I have bought a nice notebook and made a detailed list of what to do and why.

I've been reading a lot about writing and trying to work out how much is the right amount to share. Just in general. I don't have any big secret announcements. Some of my favorite bloggers are willing to write about every private, tiny thing. In great detail. I admire how they can do this, but I don't think it is right for me. I realize that when I start to tell too much that I am overloaded, and it's time to retreat and reboot. Maybe I needed this week after all. But I'm glad it's just about over.  Most of June is still ahead. Take care and be healthy everyone.

June is Here

 

I never heard the word Maycember until a few days ago. And by that time I had gotten through it. I guess it's been a name to describe the craziness of May for nearly ten years! And I didn't even know. I guess that's because most of my busy, hectic Mays were earlier in my life. Sometimes I feel so out of date, but I think that I am okay with it. We only had two graduation parties to go to. I talked to people who visited three or four in a single day. There were no weddings, picnics or barbeques. May is the time of year for school programs, and class plays, and Grandparent Days at school. We did have a couple of sad occasions which will make this a bitter Springtime to remember. 

So now I am declaring June as a time to rest, rejuvenate, relax, and rekindle. If you have a hammock, use it. (Does anyone have a hammock anymore?) Read novels. Walk barefoot in the grass or on the beach. Bloomscroll, which is to look for inspiring, uplifting and positive content on your phone. Drink tea, either hot or iced. 

I am a product of British television, and I daydream about serving tea and treats on a tray. That's how they do it on all my cozy murder mysteries. I am looking for the perfect tea set and I am sure I will know when I find it. When I say "looking" I mean to purchase a new one, and also the complete Irish set I had which disappeared in our move a couple of years ago. I know it must be here, but I have struggled through every box in our storage room. As always, I have hope.

In case anyone is wondering what to do in June, here is a list of these funny old fashioned words:

To lollygag means to spend time aimlessly. It's a physical movement with a lack of urgency. It is said to be an American word with Gaelic origins. It was first used in the 1860's and referred to kissing.

Dawdling is much like lollygagging, only without the kissing. It's been around a lot longer, since the seventeenth century.

There's no physical movement with dilly-dallying. It means procrastination and indecision. When you dilly-dally you are fussing over a task without physically doing any of it.

Now moodling is my favorite of these words. It was first mentioned by author Brenda Ueland in her 1938 book called "If You Want To Write". I have a copy somewhere. Moodling is a creative and relaxing state of mind where you let your imagination wander aimlessly and ponder thoughts without pressure. Doing this is supposed to cause relaxed daydreaming that helps creativity, insight, and problem solving.  Some definitions say that one can also dawdle while moodling. 

Here's to having just the kind of June that you want. Life is sure to get busier again soon.

Hello, Hello

 

The telephone was invented just one hundred and fifty years ago. Alexander Graham Bell was originally trying to find a way to make the telegraph system work better. 

How much have times changed? I remember watching "The Walton's" tv show, which was set in the 1930's. I think that only the general store in their little mountain town had a telephone. Other tv shows often had people listening in on party lines as part of the plot. Often, several families shared. When I was a child, I remember sharing a line with first two neighbors, and then with one other family. There was always a click if the neighbors picked up the phone and you would know if they were listening. Having only a two-party line seemed pretty impressive.  As a young teen, I had my own phone. It was a blue princess design. I also got my own private line. Not because we were wealthy, but because my dad had a lot of business calls when he was at home in the evenings. He really didn't like it when the phone lines were tied up when he was waiting on or wanting to make a call. My dad would have loved having a cell phone.

Phone calls were ten cents when you used a phone booth. Our moms always made sure that we had a dime in case we needed to call home. And that was really only for emergencies or if you were going to be late! Just imagine, we could be gone for hours with no one knowing where we were. Just as long as we were home by curfew! 

When I was a young mom, I had a wall phone in the kitchen with an extra long cord. I could do all sorts of things while I talked to my other mom friends. We all felt liberated. A few years later, I worked in a hospital as a telephone operator, patient information clerk, and for the doctors' answering service. After that experience, I hardly talked on the phone at all. 

The first cell phones became available in 1973 but weren't commercially released until 1983. They were at least 10 inches long,  weighed two and a half pounds and were about the size of a brick. After being charged for ten hours they only worked for half an hour. They improved radically over the next several years.

I really don't remember when I got my first cell phone. I know I resisted for several years. I didn't like the idea that someone could contact me at any moment of the night or day. When I did get my first phone, I didn't even give my number out. Now, just like nearly everyone else, I feel totally discombobulated if I forget my phone!

Phones today are used for so much more than just talking. Most people spend a lot more time texting. I'm not good at it. I still text in complete sentences that are grammatically correct. But I do love to get text messages and emails. Then I don't have to actually answer the phone. Am I the only one?

Doom Scrolling is now a thing. Why check your phone just to make sure that you get all of the bad news? I suppose this is also part of the fear of missing out. Do we really need to know everything?

 Today the average person checks their phone about 150 times a day. (When I checked this information, the number varied between 144 and 200!) This is an average. I know I am saying "Not Me", but many people do use their phones beyond that. I look around at restaurants and there is usually at least one person at each table using a phone. Sometimes all of them are, and there is no conversation at all. I see people in grocery stores verifying their entire orders with someone at home. Waiting in line means checking your phone. I have heard an unlimited number of very private conversations while out and about. For some reason, the talkers must think that we don't hear them.

Thirty-three states now have legislation against phone use while driving. It's been a long time, but this is a trend that needs to continue. Some parents are starting to re-think the idea of giving phones to very young children. Is it time to make more changes?

Sun In The Morning or The Moon at Night

 

Are you a morning person or a night person? As much as I would like to be a morning lark, I am very much a night owl. I would love to wake up, have my coffee outdoors as the sun rises, and maybe do a little Yoga or Pilates as I start my day. But that is never going to happen. Instead, I set two alarms and stumble to the coffee pot and wrap up in a warm blanket. That's on the days that I have to leave the house to be somewhere. On the other days I don't have an established time to wake up anymore. I was born to be retired.

I've always loved to stay up late. As a child I would often read or write in my journal late at night. When I first moved away from home, I would leave my dorm room and spend time in the common area reading or listening to music as my room mates slept. When my own children were young, I would stay up late to listen to the silence and to work on projects that couldn't get done during the day. I admit that I spent some time dozing on the couch while my little ones watched Sesame Street.

When working a "regular job" I had all sorts of hours, ranging from punching a time clock and starting my workday at 5:30 a.m, to working a night shift that ended at 5 in the morning. As a fraternity house mom, I was always up and dressed by 8 a.m. even though I usually didn't even try to go to sleep until a couple of hours past midnight when the party goers came home.

Most of my life I have gone to bed with a book. I would read until I fell asleep and dropped it on the floor. That doesn't work as well with a Kindle. I don't do that anymore because John is a light sleeper and the light would certainly keep him awake. My first husband went to bed at 7:00 and got up at 3:30 a.m. He could sleep through anything except a quiet room. In fact, he listened to the radio every night until I turned it off when he went to work. 

I used to have the strangest dreams when our radio was on the BBC World news programs at night. And then, when I woke up, I often learned they were true. Dreams can last thirty to forty minutes. I can wake up and then go back to the same dream. When I was young, I would have recurring nightmares. That hasn't happened for a long time and I don't miss it.

I try every night to be in bed by midnight, but I seldom make it. If I go to bed too early, I'm not able to sleep. I fret and worry and try to solve the problems of the world or redecorate the house. If I wait until I am tired, then I can fall asleep in five minutes. I still love that quiet time when there isn't any noise in the house. I have heard of people who spend time "going through their thoughts" before sleeping. I suppose this is a kind of mental journaling. It would be a good time to decompress, consolidate, and make a space for closing the day. I may try it. It's probably much better than trying to fix unsolvable world problems.

The majority of adults need seven to nine hours of sleep. There are short sleepers--those who need six or fewer. Martha Stewart has said she only needs three or four hours of sleep a night. She also does Pilates four times a week. I just read her daily routine and now I need a nap. 

Fun Fact: Dolphins and some birds have unihemispheric sleep. That mean that half of their brain sleeps while the other half is awake.

Time Marches On

When is it time to start worrying about aging? I remember when I turned 50 and wrote an article I called "The Fifties Queen" about the ways people's attitude towards women changed. It was actually published on an author's website. (Jennifer Louden, who has written several books.) I thought for a while that would be a huge turning point in my life as a writer.  Obviously, it wasn't because it was twenty-six years ago!

I used to work most often with people who were younger than me. It seemed that as soon as the subject of age came up, I felt like co-workers treated me differently.  I learned that fifty is the age when many women think they are becoming invisible. Suddenly, it seems like your opinions don't matter as much.

Excerpt from The 50's Queen:

"Things change when you are fifty. You are suddenly in another age bracket in surveys. You are no longer the young mother, and you don't feel quite old enough to be wise. Doctors study your charts a little bit more and suddenly start ordering tests just to have a baseline. Hormone therapy is recommended as the immediate cure to any problems that you have now or may have sometime in the distant (or not so distant) future. Every question seems to have same answer-that you are fifty now, and things will be different. If you lose or forget about anything, it is suddenly attributed to your age, even if you have been losing and forgetting things for years."

One of the biggest jolts for me at fifty, was when my mom called to tell me that there was a big sale on underwear at a local department store. "Big, white, cool, and loose" she said. "Just the way WE like them." I was crushed. It was one of those moments when time stood still. She then went on to say that my younger sisters wouldn't be interested, but of course I would. It was a defining moment of my womanhood. I started asking everyone what kind of underwear they bought. I wore sexy bikini panties way longer than I probably should have, just because I didn't want to give in to reality. Now that I am older and wiser, I believe in comfort.

I am still losing and forgetting things, but now my friends and I know that it is because we really are getting older. And sometimes we wonder if our absent-minded foibles are just innocent mistakes or symptoms of something more serious. John and I are watching one another and putting a reminder by our exit door. He is a few years older than I am, so I have been teasing him about things that happen here. He has been known to go out to restaurants in his house slippers instead of his outside shoes. He has also forgotten his wallet more than once. He wears a hearing aid when he wants to and pretends he is listening to me the rest of the time. Sometimes we will miss an exit when driving. I am the one who forgets and loses my phone the most often. Just last night I came home from a funeral visitation and realized that my shirt was inside out. There was a washing instruction tag on one side seam, and a size tag for all the world to see. And of course, all the raw edges of the seams. It's a good thing we have one another for our old age.

WHAT I'M READING: I just started Yesteryear by Caro Claire Burke. It is called a satirical and dark thriller about a trad-wife influencer. I haven't gotten very far yet and am reading it for an online book club.

SAD STORIES

 I have always liked to write. Writing my thoughts is the way I comprehend how I feel. I don't write every day although I would like to. I have the idea that sitting at my desk and writing for two hours every morning would turn me into a "real" writer. Unfortunately for me, all I really want to do in the early mornings is drink coffee.

Someone just told me that she likes reading my work because she finds it comfortable and comforting. I like these definitions. I also want it to be relatable and funny and a little bit whimsical. And sometimes it is heartfelt and heartrending. This is one of those times.

I lost a dear friend a few weeks ago. She was a few years older than I am. She was a mentor as well as a friend. I am sorry that I didn't get to know her sooner. I will always miss her.

This week the granddaughter of one of my friends since childhood died in a tragic auto accident. The circumstances were much like the jury case that troubled me so much just a couple of weeks ago. What price can you put on a life? She was only nineteen. Hers was a life that was barely lived and ended before it should have been finished.

Every death, every funeral reminds us of all the others we have been a part of- our grandparents, parents, aunts, uncles, friends, and colleagues. We know in our hearts that we will lose them at some point in time. But we never think that we will outlive our children. And that should not happen.  As I talked to my friend today she said that a tragedy like this was what happened to other people, but not to her family. I remember when those were my thoughts too, before my son died in his sleep at the age of thirty. Yes, every death is a reminder. My mind flashes back to the night I sat at my first husband's bed and cried all night because I knew he was going to be taken off life support the next morning. So young, 19. So young, 30. So young, 62.

I ache for my young friend. I sent her family strength and prayers because Strength is what we need to get us through these times. It is almost required to send prayers. Do prayers help? I don't know. I don't believe that prayers will change an outcome. I lost that faith when my son and husband were taken from us just a few short months apart. I never got it back. I envy those who still have it, but, for me, it's gone.

I've learned some truths since I realized that death is not what happens to other people. Don't worry about having courage and being brave so that others won't be uncomfortable. Cry as much as necessary. Talk. Remember the good times. Tell your stories. Let someone listen. Say their names. Hold on to one another. Scream in a car in a dark parking lot if it helps you feel better. Drink tea. 

Do whatever you need to do. Jim washed and ironed all of our son's shirts because he said that Rich wouldn't want to know they were wrinkled. I slept with my grown son's baby blanket for six months until my husband hid it away. And then he was dead two months later, so I slept with his shirt and the blanket!

My deepest griefs have been several years ago, but they never go away. Funerals always bring them back just like everything happened yesterday. I have learned to be happy again, but it is never an easy journey.

This may not have been comfortable, and certainly not whimsical, but it was a story I needed to share. Be safe everyone. I send us all Strength.

What I'm reading: I'm still enthralled with ancient Rome. Just trying to get through my library books before they are due.

Tiptoe Through The Tulips

My husband John always likes to be early for things. I think we've had to make a few adjustments since I like to be right on time but have a tendency to be late. Now I ask him what time he wants to leave. He tells me, and I think he is learning not to expect me to be ready to go until that very exact time. For quite a while after we got married he would suddenly announce that he was "ready to go" with no advance warning whenever we had to be somewhere. We finally discussed it and I found out that he thought he was making a joke. It was a line from some television show that I had hardly heard of and never watched. So he wasn't really trying to irritate the heck out of me. He thought he was being funny. I thought this marriage might end before it even really got started.

I tell you this story to explain why we are at The Tulip Festival more than a week before it even begins. 

Pella is a quaint little village about 45 miles from Iowa's capital city. It is a great place to go for a day trip or even a couple of days any time of the year. Cute shops, good restaurants, a town square and, and museums make it a good place to visit at any time.

There are probably tulip celebrations in many little towns with a Dutch heritage, but I'm pretty sure that the one in Pella, Iowa is one of the best.

We visited eight days before the official start time. There were quite a few people around, but nothing like it will be next week. I think we started going early because one year we couldn't find a place to park without walking too many blocks. And I really don't like big crowds.

It takes a lot of planning to make something like this happen. This is the ninety-first year for the festival. The Parks Department and volunteers are responsible for planting over 120,000 tulips bulbs every fall. There are at least seventy different varieties. A sample of each is planted in the Avenue of Tulips, so visitors can see them all at one time. This year our spring weather started too soon, so some of the flowers have already peaked, but there are still many to see. I remember one other time when some of the flowers bloomed too early. There were rumors that more tulips were brought in to fill any gaps. After tulip time ends, the bulbs are dug up every single year. People are allowed to collect them. I hear that is a really crazy time. They do this so that there is a different variety every year. I hear that tulip blooms are the prettiest the first year. After the blooms are gone, annual flowers are planted. We don't have any tulips yet at our house, but want to get some this fall.

I felt a little under the weather today, and was even more bedraggled than a few of the tulips, so we didn't stay long. 

There is always a lot to see, during Tulip Time and beyond, so you can visit the website and also pick up one of the free magazines which gives a lot of information.

Fun Facts: The boyhood home of Wyatt Earp (Brave, Courageous, and Bold!) is in the Pella Historical Village.

Don't forget the Klokkenspel. It was made especially for Pella and is part of the large town clock. The musical bells and mechanical wooden figures "perform" several times a day.

The windmill is also very picturesque. It is one of the tallest working windmills in North America. I have never been inside, but tours are available which include all five floors.

The Opera House is definitely worth visiting. And the canal is very pretty. There are parades and street sweeping twice a day. The costumes are very authentic. The Tulip Queen and her Court make a big appearance.

There are many, many things to see and do in Pella all year long. If you can make the trip, I'm sure you will enjoy it.

TO TELL THE TRUTH

                                                                             

        Last week I had jury duty. It was a very long and  intense week. It was much more physical than I am used to anymore. I know I need to walk more than I do now. My fitbit doesn't often hit those numbers. I had to be out of the house earlier than I usually wake up.

Sometimes I think our system makes this as difficult as possible. In the three days before I was supposed to find out if my number was in the chosen group I got six text messages. One told me that I had been picked and needed to report in February. (This is April). Another said that was a mistake. The rest alternated between saying I had been chosen to report and that I may be expected to report. All said to be sure and call the night before. So I went ahead and cancelled appointments that had been scheduled weeks ago-just in case.

This was my third time. The first time I was only there for a couple of days while we decided who would pay for the hood ornament of a car for a minor accident. It was exciting because I was a stay-at-home mom to several little ones and I got to go have lunch with grown-ups! The second time my number was high and all I had to do was call.

This time was the real thing. We spent all of Monday listening to them pick the jury. The lawyers asked all sorts of questions. I didn't think I would get picked, because they didn't ask me very many. Often I think I have a tendency to be invisible in groups. We were cautioned against showing any sympathy or empathy or using our intuition. That's really very difficult. I live by my intuition!

Several were eliminated because they said they couldn't be unbiased. One man said he believed in "an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth". He went home right away. Another said he couldn't listen and pay attention all day, and that he would need naps. That got him off too. 

A lot of jury duty involves sitting around and long waits. One day we had a surprise three hour lunch break. That was the day I bought cheese and crackers at the Dollar Store because I couldn't find a place to eat. Most of them brought their lunches or didn't mind walking several blocks. I think I was  the oldest juror. I was happy to take the elevator while most of them cheerfully took the stairs to the third floor. The Courthouse is beautiful and has wonderful and magnificent stairways. Ever since my unfortunate encounter with an acorn just a few days before my trip to Italy, stairs have been difficult for me. Especially so many of them eight times a day! 

It was a very emotional case and I am sure it will stay with me. Did we make the right decision? I hope so. It was hard listening to the evidence and knowing that life can change forever in a split second. And that what we decided will affect some person's life forever. I will be very grateful if this is my last time as a juror.

What I'm reading: I have always been fascinated by early Rome and Pompeii. Lately I have just finished a trilogy called Wolf Den by Elodie Harper. It is about the Roman caste system and slavery and the eruption of Mount Vesuvius. Since I have been there, it was especially interesting to me. The language is sometimes crude, but the scenes are not explicit.

BIRTHDAY MEMORIES

Today I am reprinting a column from 2022. It's my dad's birthday and now he would be 101 if he hadn't left us at the age of 66.

Today would have been my dad's 95th birthday. He has been gone since 1993, but lives on for those of us who knew him. He was a great father, but not a typical one. He was a man who lived by his own rules, and I think he expected the same of his children. Most of the time when I think of him, either cars or trucks come into the picture. He dropped out of school and worked as a truck driver around the country. He loved racing, and I think he was happiest when he was at a track. I went to my first stock car race when I was two weeks old. I was in a basket in the stands. I'm sure that Mom insisted we go, because the week before, he had brought us home from the hospital, bought her a pint of ice cream, and then he went to the races. Oh, and it was her birthday. He was a great dad, but I'm not really sure how he rated as a husband.

My parents moved to Texas twice in my first two years. I spent a lot of time with an aunt and uncle of my mother's because they both worked miles away. It's strange for me to think of my formative years being with family I don't ever remember meeting. Mom hated Texas. Dad loved it. 

Finally, she talked him into moving back to Iowa, and they bought a house when I was three. She needed stability while he thrived on adventure. When I was about four he was in a serious accident. During a race, he flipped his car six times. I was at the concession stand, buying cotton candy, and when I came back they were on the way to the hospital. She made him promise to quit driving. I think he could have just as easily promised to quit breathing. He kept it up, just using another name.

He used to have a truck route for a Des Moines dairy, and took me around to collect the milk cans from Iowa farms. During our long drives together, we would play "count the windmills," and "name the license plates."  I learned all about Dizzy Dean, his favorite baseball player. Dizzy didn't like to follow the rules either. We listened to country music, and Mario Lanzo.  He wasn't a religious man, but loved to listen to old time hymns.

He had a very strong sense of justice. Once, I took a pack of gum from a store. Probaby Juicy Fruit. When I showed him my treasure, he turned the car around immediatly, and marched me back into the store to confess. That ended my life of crime.  He was very big on sharing what you have with others, and passed that on to us. He liked to tell us about airplanes that he and his brother got for Christmas one year. A neighbor child hadn't gotten any Christmas toys. His mother made him give his away, and share his brother's plane. He wasn't happy about it, but knew it was the right thing to do. Dad always had a story with a lesson. I think they were true. At least most of them.

I was an only child for five years. By the time I was fifteen, I was older sister and babysitter to four siblings. He wasn't conventional. He was never like any of the other fathers I knew. We were the only family I knew with a giant milk dispenser in our kitchen, and regulation school playground equipment in our back yeard. The things he brought home for us to play on were considered too dangerous for our friends. For many years he sold cars and trucks, and once I learned to drive, I never knew what I would be driving to school. My most embarrassing was the car with "Joey Chitwood, Stunt Driver" painted on the side. There are so many stories, now that I am remembering. When he was Race Promoter, he managed to get the governor to be the flag man at one of the races. For my dad, nothing was ever impossible. Happy Birthday, Lefty. I miss you