I guess I shouldn't have had hot chocolate so late last night, because the caffeine in it kept me awake. I tossed and turned endlessly, and visited the bathroom twice, before finally drifting off.
At 1 a.m., I thought, "Oh, no, now it's only five hours til I have to get up"...at 2 a.m., I thought, "oh, no, now it's only four hours til I have to get up"...at 3 a.m., I thought, "Oh, no-o-o...and then I drifted. Three and a half hours later, the alarm went off. Oh, no!
So, I've been draggin' my wagon all day. I couldn't seem to get my morning started after I got up, and I was late getting to the pool. I had only ten or fifteen minutes to swim in the deep end before aerobics started.
Funny story from the pool: as I approached the rope that divides the shallow end (where we have aerobics) from the deep end, one of the ladies already in the shallow end lifted the rope to let me walk under. Unfortunately, one of the plastic buoys on the rope has been broken somehow (we suspect one of the kids who used the pool for swimming competitions probably did it), and it fills with water like a bowl.
Naturally, this was the point I chose to go under the rope, so the lady lifting it inadvertently dumped the captured water onto my head. Everybody else broke out laughing, commenting that I'd been properly baptized. Most of us ladies are careful not to get our dyed hair wet in the pool, because of the chlorine, so it must have been comical to see me get a good dousing.
This episode wasn't as bad as one I experienced many years ago, though, when at a business convention banquet, a waiter with a tray full of desserts tipped the tray just enough to allow a slice of coconut cream pie to slide off, which upended onto my blond bouffant hairdo. He was one mighty embarrassed waiter, and I was certainly the floor show for the night.
Once I was ready for the day after water aerobics, Hubbie and I ran errands...to the grocery store that sells my favorite brand of cottage cheese, and that had bananas two lbs. for a dollar, and other low-priced fruits; and then to the WDCS for last-minute groceries for the trip.
Following a deli turkey sandwich lunch, we carried stuff out to the camper. We have enough food to feed an army, so there'll be plenty for us, as well as Son, Daughter-in-Law, and Grandson, who will arrive at camp Friday night.
They plan to tent camp on our campsite. Predictions are for beautiful weather, so they should be comfortable in their tent. It'll be fun having family to go with us to the festival, too. Friday, I'll try to enter Grandson in the grape stomping contest. I hope he gets to do it. It'd make great pictures for a scrapbook page.
At the fair: according to tonight's Daily Blab, the daughter of one of our community theater board members won the Miss (Our County) beauty pageant at the fair, and the daughter of a lady who was once a member of our (now defunct) Extension Homemakers club won third place in dancing at the talent contest. This is the daughter of one of the ladies we know who can "talk the horns off a billy goat," and she nearly did when she stopped by the Caring Hands booth last night to "chat."
After a supper of goulash and salad, I went out to the yard to cut surprise lilies (also known as resurrection lilies, magic lilies, or naked ladies) for a bouquet to take with us on our trip. Actually, a bunch of them were "pre-cut" by the cats, who routinely snap the tender stems walking among the plants. I figured that if the cats are going to destroy the flowers anyway, we might as well have a bouquet of them to enjoy for a couple of days.
After supper, we watched TV for the evening...an episode of "Miss Marple," recorded on DVR from PBS, and an episode of "The Closer."
Later, when Hubbie went upstairs to shut down the computer, I heard a crash and a loud thud. I figured he must have fallen, so I rushed to the stairwell and called up to ask what had happened. He didn't immediately answer me, so I called more loudly and more anxiously. He finally answered, sheepishly, that he was okay. He'd tripped over the telephone wire in the dark and fell to his knees, pulling the phone receiver off the hook on his way down.
"Why didn't you answer me when I first called? I asked.
"I wasn't hurt, and I was coming down to tell you what happened," he said.
"Yes, well, in the meantime, you nearly gave me a heart attack!" I chided him.
He chuckled, obviously thinking I was overreacting. "Next time, answer me right away," I insisted. He smiled, but nodded his agreement.
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
Tuesday, July 21
We awoke to a gully-washing rain this morning, but I managed to get a treadmill session and weights exercises in before it started thundering and lightening. I waited a while before getting ready for the day, though, because I didn't want to be in the shower in a thunderstorm.
We spent the rest of the morning gathering stuff for the camping trip, and then after lunch, Hubbie and I ran errands...to pick up complimentary passes to the county fair; to the health store for multi-grain cereal, and no-salt seasoning; and finally to the WDCS for incidentals and groceries. When we arrived at the store, it was pouring down rain, and it was still raining hard when we left.
After we got back home, we continued putting stuff in the camper for the trip. Mid-afternoon, we watched a couple of shows on TV, before having a supper of Salisbury steaks, mashed potatoes and gravy, and spinach.
We hoped that the rain would stop or at least ease before we needed to go to the fair, and it did, but it started right back up shortly after we arrived, around 6:00 p.m. Fortunately, we stayed nice and dry in the commercial building, where Mother and I manned a booth for the Caring Hands Hospice organization.
We walked around the commercial building three times, pushing Mother in the transport chair, before we found the right booth, because the exhibit had no large banner identifying it. Soon after we settled in, I called a Caring Hands worker to note that the space needed signage, because people were walking by, looking up, seeing nothing, and walking on.
Hubbie went with us to the fair, and after he toured the exhibits in the commercial building and other buildings, he sat with Mother while I went to the office and devised a makeshift sign from a strip of paper cut from a roll meant to cover tables. One of the ladies in the office loaned me a box of straight pins, and we used these to attach the temporary sign.
Later, another Caring Hands worker dropped by the booth to see how we were doing and said that a sign had been ordered from a sign-making company, but it had not been completed in time, and that it was supposed to be ready by Wednesday.
Only a few folks dropped by the booth anyway, since there weren't many people at the fair on this miserable-weather night. Our shift was from 6-8:30 p.m. When we were done, we toured the exhibit buildings and registered for the prizes at various booths. Instead of laboriously filling out all the entry slips, I took along a sheet of return address labels to attach to the slips, and then all I had to do is add my phone number.
We noticed that there were lots of empty spaces in the women's exhibit building, since Mother and I didn't enter anything in crafts, household arts, canned goods, baked goods, and vegetables and plants. Several fair board members commented that they missed us this year.
We were still sort of represented, though, because there was a photo of one of my great-granddaughters (whose name starts with "F") building a Christmas gingerbread house in the art gallery's exhibit, and one of my greeting cards was on display in the Caring Hands Hospice exhibit...both were a surprise to us.
We left the fairgrounds around 9 p.m., and by then, it had stopped raining, thank goodness. At home, I felt hungry, so Hubbie and I had bagels with cream cheese and strawberry preserves. He had milk with his, and I had a cup of hot chocolate, because I felt chilled after a cool, rainy evening out.
We spent the rest of the morning gathering stuff for the camping trip, and then after lunch, Hubbie and I ran errands...to pick up complimentary passes to the county fair; to the health store for multi-grain cereal, and no-salt seasoning; and finally to the WDCS for incidentals and groceries. When we arrived at the store, it was pouring down rain, and it was still raining hard when we left.
After we got back home, we continued putting stuff in the camper for the trip. Mid-afternoon, we watched a couple of shows on TV, before having a supper of Salisbury steaks, mashed potatoes and gravy, and spinach.
We hoped that the rain would stop or at least ease before we needed to go to the fair, and it did, but it started right back up shortly after we arrived, around 6:00 p.m. Fortunately, we stayed nice and dry in the commercial building, where Mother and I manned a booth for the Caring Hands Hospice organization.
We walked around the commercial building three times, pushing Mother in the transport chair, before we found the right booth, because the exhibit had no large banner identifying it. Soon after we settled in, I called a Caring Hands worker to note that the space needed signage, because people were walking by, looking up, seeing nothing, and walking on.
Hubbie went with us to the fair, and after he toured the exhibits in the commercial building and other buildings, he sat with Mother while I went to the office and devised a makeshift sign from a strip of paper cut from a roll meant to cover tables. One of the ladies in the office loaned me a box of straight pins, and we used these to attach the temporary sign.
Later, another Caring Hands worker dropped by the booth to see how we were doing and said that a sign had been ordered from a sign-making company, but it had not been completed in time, and that it was supposed to be ready by Wednesday.
Only a few folks dropped by the booth anyway, since there weren't many people at the fair on this miserable-weather night. Our shift was from 6-8:30 p.m. When we were done, we toured the exhibit buildings and registered for the prizes at various booths. Instead of laboriously filling out all the entry slips, I took along a sheet of return address labels to attach to the slips, and then all I had to do is add my phone number.
We noticed that there were lots of empty spaces in the women's exhibit building, since Mother and I didn't enter anything in crafts, household arts, canned goods, baked goods, and vegetables and plants. Several fair board members commented that they missed us this year.
We were still sort of represented, though, because there was a photo of one of my great-granddaughters (whose name starts with "F") building a Christmas gingerbread house in the art gallery's exhibit, and one of my greeting cards was on display in the Caring Hands Hospice exhibit...both were a surprise to us.
We left the fairgrounds around 9 p.m., and by then, it had stopped raining, thank goodness. At home, I felt hungry, so Hubbie and I had bagels with cream cheese and strawberry preserves. He had milk with his, and I had a cup of hot chocolate, because I felt chilled after a cool, rainy evening out.
Monday, July 20, 2009
Monday, July 20
I had trouble going to sleep last night, so of course, I had trouble getting up this morning at 6:30 to get ready to go to water aerobics. I arrived later than usual at the swimming pool, and was surprised to see that only about five or six women were there. We all wondered where everyone was. In a few minutes, though, women began arriving, and finally there were about 25 of us. I guess almost everybody had trouble rousing themselves this morning. Maybe it was the cooler weather that made us lazy.
Stories from the pool: one lady spent last Friday picking blackberries in the morning, and then making several pints of preserves in the afternoon. On Saturday, she went to another town to attend a grandson's baseball tournament games (two of them). On Sunday, a mountain of corn was waiting to be prepared for the freezer. "I probably shouldn't have worked on the corn on Sunday, but it couldn't wait any longer without going bad. My ox was in the ditch," she rationalized, "so I shucked it, cut it off the cobs, blanched it, and put it in the freezer."
She said as a family tradition, she cooks and serves the summer corn for Christmas dinner. One year, though, she labored to put up the corn, and then had to be away for a couple of days. While she was gone, her daughter and friends cooked and ate the corn. She was mad as a wet hen about it. "The things we put up in the summer are for the winter!" she raged at her daughter. Now she clearly identifies the corn she freezes as "Corn for Christmas!"
Another lady at the pool talked about her gabby daughter-in-law, who, she quipped, "can talk the horns off a billy goat." I've never heard that expression before, but I know some folks with the same annoying tendency. This lady said her daughter-in-law used 1400 minutes of the 2000 her husband provided for her cell phone last month. That's a lot of gabbing. I don't have that much to say to anyone over the phone. Writing...now that's another matter.
Back home, Mother put color in my hair in anticipation of our getting haircuts Wednesday afternoon. Hubbie was running errands to get birdseed and go to the barber shop when I got home. By the time I was ready for the day, it was 11 a.m. But I had time to iron the clothes I'll need for the upcoming camping trip, before we had a lunch of leftover egg salad and tuna salad in sandwiches.
Hubbie spent most of his time in the yard this afternoon, but other than fixing a big bowl of fruit (apple, grapes, strawberries, cherries, blueberries and Craisins) for a snack later, I didn't accomplish anything much this afternoon. Mother helped with that task. Then she worked word searches, and I read my novel.
At one point, though, I answered e-mails, and downloaded a coupon for our favorite brand of olive oil. However, before I could access the coupon, I had to download a Java tool. While I was at the computer, I ordered wallet size photos of Hubbie working in the garden to use in making a scrapbook page.
Well, the mama cat has gone and done it again...she had five more kittens last Saturday. She only recently got a litter of three raised, and of the first batch she had on our property, there are four left, one of which Mother adopted. Once this newest litter is weened, the mama MUST be spayed.
At the eagle nest: when I first looked, the eaglet was nearly out of sight of the camera, but I finally caught a glimpse of him in the lower lefthand corner of the screen. Before long, one of the adults landed in the nest, and after a while, the other adult flew in, holding a fish in its beak. When it dropped the fish, the other adult snatched it away and began eating it, since the eaglet wasn't nearby.
Before the adult finished the fish off, though, the eaglet hopped over to the dinner table, and the adult fed what remained of the fish to the baby. It obviously didn't satisfy the eaglet's appetite, though, because he (she?) kept pecking at the adult's beak looking for more. So that adult took off, too, headed toward the water.
Tonight's TV movie fare was a two-part mini-series called "Meteor," recorded on DVR from a prime time channel. As its title suggests, it's a typical disaster movie, where a giant meteor threatens to obliterate earth, unless scientists can find a way to avert the "extinction event." Of course, all sorts of things happen before a solution can be found...pieces of the meteor create havoc on earth, and technical difficulties slow progress.
Stories from the pool: one lady spent last Friday picking blackberries in the morning, and then making several pints of preserves in the afternoon. On Saturday, she went to another town to attend a grandson's baseball tournament games (two of them). On Sunday, a mountain of corn was waiting to be prepared for the freezer. "I probably shouldn't have worked on the corn on Sunday, but it couldn't wait any longer without going bad. My ox was in the ditch," she rationalized, "so I shucked it, cut it off the cobs, blanched it, and put it in the freezer."
She said as a family tradition, she cooks and serves the summer corn for Christmas dinner. One year, though, she labored to put up the corn, and then had to be away for a couple of days. While she was gone, her daughter and friends cooked and ate the corn. She was mad as a wet hen about it. "The things we put up in the summer are for the winter!" she raged at her daughter. Now she clearly identifies the corn she freezes as "Corn for Christmas!"
Another lady at the pool talked about her gabby daughter-in-law, who, she quipped, "can talk the horns off a billy goat." I've never heard that expression before, but I know some folks with the same annoying tendency. This lady said her daughter-in-law used 1400 minutes of the 2000 her husband provided for her cell phone last month. That's a lot of gabbing. I don't have that much to say to anyone over the phone. Writing...now that's another matter.
Back home, Mother put color in my hair in anticipation of our getting haircuts Wednesday afternoon. Hubbie was running errands to get birdseed and go to the barber shop when I got home. By the time I was ready for the day, it was 11 a.m. But I had time to iron the clothes I'll need for the upcoming camping trip, before we had a lunch of leftover egg salad and tuna salad in sandwiches.
Hubbie spent most of his time in the yard this afternoon, but other than fixing a big bowl of fruit (apple, grapes, strawberries, cherries, blueberries and Craisins) for a snack later, I didn't accomplish anything much this afternoon. Mother helped with that task. Then she worked word searches, and I read my novel.
At one point, though, I answered e-mails, and downloaded a coupon for our favorite brand of olive oil. However, before I could access the coupon, I had to download a Java tool. While I was at the computer, I ordered wallet size photos of Hubbie working in the garden to use in making a scrapbook page.
Well, the mama cat has gone and done it again...she had five more kittens last Saturday. She only recently got a litter of three raised, and of the first batch she had on our property, there are four left, one of which Mother adopted. Once this newest litter is weened, the mama MUST be spayed.
At the eagle nest: when I first looked, the eaglet was nearly out of sight of the camera, but I finally caught a glimpse of him in the lower lefthand corner of the screen. Before long, one of the adults landed in the nest, and after a while, the other adult flew in, holding a fish in its beak. When it dropped the fish, the other adult snatched it away and began eating it, since the eaglet wasn't nearby.
Before the adult finished the fish off, though, the eaglet hopped over to the dinner table, and the adult fed what remained of the fish to the baby. It obviously didn't satisfy the eaglet's appetite, though, because he (she?) kept pecking at the adult's beak looking for more. So that adult took off, too, headed toward the water.
Tonight's TV movie fare was a two-part mini-series called "Meteor," recorded on DVR from a prime time channel. As its title suggests, it's a typical disaster movie, where a giant meteor threatens to obliterate earth, unless scientists can find a way to avert the "extinction event." Of course, all sorts of things happen before a solution can be found...pieces of the meteor create havoc on earth, and technical difficulties slow progress.
Sunday, July 19, 2009
Sunday, July 19
I woke up at 6:30 this morning, but since Hubbie was asleep, I waited until he woke to get up, around 7:30. After breakfast, I hit the treadmill, as usual, followed by weights exercises.
Mother came over while I was on the treadmill and put a pork roast with carrots and onions in the slow cooker. We had that for lunch with mashed potatoes and gravy, sliced tomatoes (fresh from our raised garden) and applesauce.
We spent the morning before lunch reading the Sunday newspaper, and in my case, programming the DVR for the week's shows and movies, and washing clothes.
After lunch, Hubbie, Mother, and I went to the restaurant overlooking the river and dam to hear a 2 p.m. program sponsored by the local historic society about a fabled river monster that has supposedly been seen from time-to-time, over many years, by various people in a nearby town.
There was supposed to be a slide show to accompany the talk, but technical difficulties nixed that. The president of the society commented that the glitch was par for the course. Apparently, during a program at the museum last Sunday, the power went out, leaving the speakers to address the audience in the dark. "So it's appropriate to hear about a river monster on this dammed river day," he quipped.
The speaker was very interesting, noting that the river monster had been spotted as far back as during the time of the Native Americans (though how this is known is a mystery to me), as well as during the Civil War era. But some 40 years ago, when there was a sighting, a monster frenzy developed in the nearby town where the beast is supposed to live. It caught the attention of local, state, national, and international media. Naturally, all that attention brought hundreds of folks to the area, boosting the economy of the small town. A festival atmosphere evolved at one point, when a diver went into the river to see if he could find it. He didn't, of course, but some folks insisted that was because all the noise on the river banks scared the monster away.
There is one fuzzy picture of the "monster," which looks like the very long hump of an elephant (as large as a boxcar, many say). Some speculate it was a huge alligator gar or a giant sturgeon, or possibly an upended boat. Apparently, no one has ever seen the monster's head, but an artist's rendition depicts the beast as a typical sea-serpent figure.
The speaker said that "sightings" occur about every 40 years, so it is time for another one. And necessary, I would say, if the story is to be perpetuated for the purposes of tourism. In fact, our state's tourism literature promotes the river monster, thereby lending authenticity to it. The State Senate has even designated a section of the river in the area where it is "unlawful to kill, molest, trample or harm (the monster) while it is in its native refuge."
Following the talk, the audience of about 35 folks were invited to tour a nearby small museum related to the hydro-electric plant. The museum features a table model of the river, the dam, the hydro-electric plant and the surrounding countryside. Someone did a great job making the tiny houses, barns, and trees on spreading fields, where itsy-bitsy cattle, and itsy-bitsy horses graze along each side of the river.
On the walls, there is a display of photos showing the progress of dam building, which began in the late 1800s. We were also shown a video about dam (there are three) construction, their use, and their eventual abandonment when the railroad was built. Transporting goods by rail was easier, cheaper, and more convenient than by river.
The video was narrated by the same fellow who is president of the historical society. He is a retired professor from the local college, and was my very favorite teacher when I attended classes there. He is a stand-up comic, who made potentially dull subject matter funny and exciting. We all enjoy him, so we make it a point to attend his lectures.
We were back home about 4 p.m. Nothing exciting happened for the evening...just a sandwich supper, followed by watching TV.
Mother came over while I was on the treadmill and put a pork roast with carrots and onions in the slow cooker. We had that for lunch with mashed potatoes and gravy, sliced tomatoes (fresh from our raised garden) and applesauce.
We spent the morning before lunch reading the Sunday newspaper, and in my case, programming the DVR for the week's shows and movies, and washing clothes.
After lunch, Hubbie, Mother, and I went to the restaurant overlooking the river and dam to hear a 2 p.m. program sponsored by the local historic society about a fabled river monster that has supposedly been seen from time-to-time, over many years, by various people in a nearby town.
There was supposed to be a slide show to accompany the talk, but technical difficulties nixed that. The president of the society commented that the glitch was par for the course. Apparently, during a program at the museum last Sunday, the power went out, leaving the speakers to address the audience in the dark. "So it's appropriate to hear about a river monster on this dammed river day," he quipped.
The speaker was very interesting, noting that the river monster had been spotted as far back as during the time of the Native Americans (though how this is known is a mystery to me), as well as during the Civil War era. But some 40 years ago, when there was a sighting, a monster frenzy developed in the nearby town where the beast is supposed to live. It caught the attention of local, state, national, and international media. Naturally, all that attention brought hundreds of folks to the area, boosting the economy of the small town. A festival atmosphere evolved at one point, when a diver went into the river to see if he could find it. He didn't, of course, but some folks insisted that was because all the noise on the river banks scared the monster away.
There is one fuzzy picture of the "monster," which looks like the very long hump of an elephant (as large as a boxcar, many say). Some speculate it was a huge alligator gar or a giant sturgeon, or possibly an upended boat. Apparently, no one has ever seen the monster's head, but an artist's rendition depicts the beast as a typical sea-serpent figure.
The speaker said that "sightings" occur about every 40 years, so it is time for another one. And necessary, I would say, if the story is to be perpetuated for the purposes of tourism. In fact, our state's tourism literature promotes the river monster, thereby lending authenticity to it. The State Senate has even designated a section of the river in the area where it is "unlawful to kill, molest, trample or harm (the monster) while it is in its native refuge."
Following the talk, the audience of about 35 folks were invited to tour a nearby small museum related to the hydro-electric plant. The museum features a table model of the river, the dam, the hydro-electric plant and the surrounding countryside. Someone did a great job making the tiny houses, barns, and trees on spreading fields, where itsy-bitsy cattle, and itsy-bitsy horses graze along each side of the river.
On the walls, there is a display of photos showing the progress of dam building, which began in the late 1800s. We were also shown a video about dam (there are three) construction, their use, and their eventual abandonment when the railroad was built. Transporting goods by rail was easier, cheaper, and more convenient than by river.
The video was narrated by the same fellow who is president of the historical society. He is a retired professor from the local college, and was my very favorite teacher when I attended classes there. He is a stand-up comic, who made potentially dull subject matter funny and exciting. We all enjoy him, so we make it a point to attend his lectures.
We were back home about 4 p.m. Nothing exciting happened for the evening...just a sandwich supper, followed by watching TV.
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