On the Ball

 My granddaughter has a wicked, leaning to sarcastic, sense of humour. I think it’s an inherited trait.

When I had a major relapse of my MS last winter, I ended up unable to walk and in a wheelchair. There were a lot of changes that needed to be made, plus the healing of fractures from a fall, so I was content to be home, managing my transfers and spending longer periods in the chair.

Spring came with sunny skies, warmer temperatures and the need to be outside, to feel the warmth of the sun on my skin. Only problem was the 2 inch rise at the door. I would move until I met that obstacle and just sit in the open doorway. 

That’s where I was sitting one day as I said goodbye to my 20 year old granddaughter. As she walked down the path I called out that I’d gone as far as I could. She quickly replied “if you’d learn to behave yourself they might take your ankle monitor off”.

A smart ass for sure, she keeps me laughing.

To give her back a bit of my smart ass, I found an old picture of her and sent it to her with the following caption. “Always knew you had a lot on the ball”

A Matter of Time

 

My daughter said it was only a matter of time before I mistakenly used my coffee cup to wash my paint brushes. My supposed art table is very crowded. Bottles of gesso, matte medium, the one for brushes and the water bottle I never drank yesterday. 

I’m using an old magazine for a palette, easy to rip off a page at a time. So there are paint brushes and palette knives. 

Then there’s the paper towels and baby wipes.  If there are any painters out there, baby wipes will take off paint, so you can use it to lighten, or edit. Better if you seal the canvas first. I use matte medium to seal what I like and want to preserve, then if next bit doesn’t work I can baby wipe it off.

I’ve been painting like mad, with numerous works on the go, so have canvases all over the room in various  states of completion.  

There is a juried show in the local art gallery next month. I have entered this show off and on since 1987 and have always had at least one, if not more, submissions accepted.  

Let’s hope I can keep my streak going, and then find storage for all the completed works.

Rites of summer

 There are certain things I do every summer, unfortunately all are food related. In my physical state I’m not about to be cliff diving or bungee jumping.

Alas, I never was able to do the first on my list…roadside French fries from a mobile kitchen. There is just nothing like freshly cooked, hand cut fries. This has been a “must-do” for many years, decades really. I used to take the kids out to the road that travelled along the south shore of Rice Lake. The chip wagon was parked on the corner, where the lake road met the county road that came north from town and the highway. 

It was a busy spot, from Friday until Sunday with the summer crowd heading to or from the cottage.

Next is barbecued steak. We are not allowed a barbecue in my complex so my son always makes sure I get this treat. And his steaks are so tender, part of the half he buys from a local farmer.  Along with the steak I like hamburgers and hotdogs, though they come a distant second to that steak.

What summer is complete without a Dairy Queen blizzard? I thought I was going to miss out on this one too until my granddaughter said she was coming for a visit and what did I want for lunch. Dairy Queen!

Last is the teen burger from A&W. The restaurant chain does an annual fundraiser, held in August, where a donation is made to the MS Society for every teen burger sold. Years ago this was really done up with dining spots marked off with balloons, and music blaring but Covid changed this as it has changed everything.  My daughter and her family surprised me with dinner, and even remembered I like their onion rings over French fries.

That last one hits close to home as I have MS, and it was a difficult winter for me, but still it was an occasion worth celebrating. If there’s family I don’t miss the parking lot, the loud music or the balloons. 

Gloomy Days

 For September the weather has been all rain with grey skies, and today such gloom with high humidity. My hair has no curl whatsoever but I imagine those with a tendency to frizz and curl are hating this weather. 

I hate it because my joints ache in damp weather. An old wives tale that I can attest is true.

I’ve been painting like mad, trying to get something done to submit to the annual juried show at our local art gallery. Trying out different techniques on 8x10 canvas boards. 

I’m using faces from ten year old Vogue magazines. There is a technique using matte medium where you can transfer an image. It’s kind of hit and miss for me. One thing I forget is that you add medium to the right side and place it on canvas, so image is reversed. Once you’ve transferred the image you let it dry, then dampen it and remove paper backing, leaving the ink on your canvas.

First attempt I tried I added medium to back so just adhered it right side up. I then painted around it. 

The next transfer I remembered to put the gel on right side. Not that it made much of a difference as photo was of a reflection. 

I love faces and now have a file full for future use. A good start I think.

Frazzle

 

This cute little guy’s name is Frazzle. Not a name I gave him but one he came with. I thought the name was very apt for my mother and bought it as a gift. 

It was a difficult time for our family. My mother had had two surgeries, first for endometrial cancer, and second for the lung where it had spread. She was undergoing an intensive radiation regimen of treatment, hence the being frazzled.

I was a single mom, living in Canada, and she was living in Florida.  I sent the dog to make her laugh, to let her know I was with her in my thoughts, if not in person.

Frazzle is mine, and has been for more than twenty years.  My grandkids have seen it, wanted it, but I can’t give it away, the connection too dear.

Frazzle has a friend, Tommy, another stuffed animal I sent my Mom. He’s a white cat, a bit smaller than the original and missing his brown spots but a close copy. Mom loved the real Tommy that lived in my house and often said how much she’d miss him when she moved south. So, I got her one of her own and mailed it as a house warming gift.

These guys are not often off the shelf but I needed Frazzle for a special occasion. My granddaughter was turning 21, and I was sending her a multitude of greetings by text throughout the day.

I positioned Frazzle and made a quick video message, singing Happy Birthday off camera and out of sight.

I did make it down to Florida twice after that time, the second when I brought Frazzle and Tommy home. 

My eyes have filled with tears as I write, remembering both good times and bad. I miss you Mom, today and every day. Love you always. ❤️

The Fly

 I found myself eating ice cream last night at midnight.  Apparently ice cream is second to chocolate on the list of comfort foods. My need of comfort began earlier in the day. 

Yesterday in the late afternoon the sky turned grey and ominous.  The sound of thunder and sudden flashes of lightning spoke of a coming storm. There had been warnings so I was not surprised to see the sky change.

But we did not get a forceful downpour, nor did we get the winds that have accompanied summer storms previously. We got a steady rain, coming straight down like a wall of water.  It was pretty and I found the sound lovely. So I opened my door to get the full benefit of Mother Nature’s beauty.

The problem with the open door is it lets the bugs in, namely flies.

When the rain ended I closed my door. I enjoyed my dinner, did my dishes and relaxed to watch a movie. It was as I was crocheting that a fly made itself known.  It persisted in landing on my hands, a couple of times making me lose a stitch swatting it away. Finally I thought I was rid of it, until I went to bed.

Lights out,  I was comfy in my bed trying to sleep but was bothered by this one pesky fly. It would not leave me alone. Almost an hour passed and I could stand it no more. The battle was on. 

Flyswatter in hand I sat in the chair by my bed, eating ice cream and watching a repeat episode of Chicago PD. I was the good guy and the fly was the wanted felon that needed to be taken care of, by any means.

I got one good swat at him but he eluded my custody and went into hiding. The ice cream did the job, and I was ready to return to bed.

I won the battle but the war still wages, that fly has begun a day time attack. 

Goodbye Tree

 Apparently one of the old trees on my court has carpenter ants and the town ordered it removed. 

The danger is that the trunk and limbs lose their integrity and could be downed in a strong wind. And we have had some mighty strong winds with these summer storms.

It’s quite the procedure.  The first guy is in a lift like you see the power workers use.  He ties off the limbs and using a chainsaw works his way across the top of the tree.

The big truck has a crane with a cable that the lift guy attaches to the limb. When the limb is freed it’s lowered to the ground 

On the ground there’s another worker with a chainsaw. He remove the smaller limbs until there is just one big log remaining.

All the leaves and smaller branches are fed through a mulching machine. The large limbs are cut into manageable size pieces and in the end everything is removed and the area cleared, like they were never there.

That’s a lot of wood, but I don’t know whether it’s good for fire wood. 

It’s quite the setup and a lot of my neighbours, like myself, are intrigued and sat to watch.

Poor Bailey

 Bailey is not a happy camper. 

I’ve been using up all my leftover bits of yarn, making fun hats for dogs. I made a couple and wasn’t sure of the sizing, so I sent one home for Bailey to try on. I needed the visual and now know when the pattern said ‘large’ it really meant ‘medium’.

Bailey was not impressed, no matter that the hat was in his team colours. Yeah Maple Leafs.  I’ll make him a better one before hockey season starts 

Bailey, my Bud

Bailey is the youngest member of my daughter’s family. He is a two year old Labradoodle they got as a puppy.

I’m not sure of all the particulars of why this breed was developed other than it is the most non allergenic of dogs. As my grandson has a long list of allergies this was an important requirement.

My granddaughter brought him over for a visit and forgot his leash. He is still a bit puppy but is usually very obedient. You caught the “usually” right?

I live in a seniors complex, made up of quad units so we’re close together, in our own little neighbourhood. It’s quiet, and not very busy. 

I had left the door open for the sun and breeze, the dog playing with a tennis ball while the humans visited.

It all happened at once. The maintenance man on his small tractor pulling a cart to collect the garbage, the volunteer delivering a meal, and my 95 year old neighbour stepping out to get her dinner. 

Bailey barked and charged out the door, followed by my granddaughter who quickly got the dog in her control and back inside. Funny thing, he stayed by my side after that, as if he was protecting me.

Old people, they are not always the forgive and forget type. I got a stern lecture from my neighbour about the danger of a big dog being loose where there are vulnerable seniors around. I agreed and apologized, promised I would not let it happen again.

Still, I got the cold shoulder for about a week, the neighbour not speaking to me. Of the four of us in our little section, one unit is currently empty, and the fourth is home to a lovely, very active, very social English woman. As I am home all the time, the one my neighbour usually visits with, she got over her harsh feelings about the dog. 

There was a collage art project I wanted to try and Bailey seemed the perfect subject. I gathered my glue, my old magazines and my scissors and got to work. It was fun, and for a first try at something so finicky and detailed. I think I got a fairly good likeness.

 

Mighty Ships

 I was watching a show on TV about cruise ships. Each show detailed one particular ship and I was curious. I’ve never seen a cruise ship but gather they can be massive. I had a friend who canceled a cruise because she couldn’t do the walking.

The distance to areas on the ship were quite far apart but the worst, for her, was the walk to get to the exit off the ship, then the long walk on the pier beside the ship to get to their docked destination. 

In the show I watched the ship in length was the same as an eighty storey building.  There were so many levels I can’t remember. The side looked like an apartment building with narrow little balconies with glass doors. 

If I remember correctly there were 1500 employees and almost 4000 guests. The ship left Miami and was sailing for a week through the islands, stopping at a midway point in Mexico. The plan is to dock in the daytime so guests can disembark and enjoy the local tourist attractions. The ship then sails all night to their next location. 

On this episode there was a storm brewing as it was hurricane season. It was determined that they couldn’t reach their end destination of Miami and hoped they could shelter in one of the island harbours. The only other choice was to ride out the storm in open water.

They reached the island and were able to dock. I was in awe when I saw this huge boat manoeuvre its way into the docking space. First they have to enter the harbour where there was room for six ships to dock.

But they couldn’t just pull in, they had to back in, so first was to turn around. Turn around! The harbour was big but the overhead camera showed that there was not a lot of spare room. Once they were turned around they had to get in position to back up, with a long dock on one side and another cruise ship in the next parking space. 

I laughed when they showed the driver, pilot, looking in his rear view mirror. How much good can that be given the length of the boat. There have to be some very specialized electronics helping him as he slid that huge boat in with nary a miss and stopped her tight alongside the dock. 

And I have trouble backing up my van. 🤦🏻‍♀️

I was left with two thoughts at the end of the show.

One, who would book a cruise through the islands and the Gulf of Mexico in hurricane season?

And two, what do they do with all the waste generated by thousands of people in a limited space?  Interesting thought when you read about the pollution of our oceans. 

Organization

 I bought a nine drawer organizer years ago when I was frustrated, unable to find the proper tool or equipment when needed. I labeled each drawer and, over time, added items as I found them in some obscure storage spot.

This is how I found myself with a drawer full of scissors. And a varied collection it is. 

The rule has always been that no one uses my sewing scissors. Meant for use with fabric only I put the fear into my kids, (just joking, sort of) if I should ever find them cutting paper with my shears. My kids had no fear and many of the scissors in the drawer are sewing scissors delegated for craft use.

There are barber scissors, kids small handed scissors and scrapbook scissors that make funny edges.

I am as obsessed with scissors as I am with pens and paper. Which is why there are so many pairs in the drawer, even new ones purchased on sale.

If you have an organized spot for a particular item you can hoard to your heart’s content, until the drawer if full of course. I still have a bit of space left.

Me: Once Upon a Time

 I have fun with my grandkids sending them old pictures. I found one of me and sent it. Of course they had no idea who it was.

I have a hard time remembering that young person. Cute dog though, and still a dog lover. Figure this photo about 68 years old. Man, I an truly and old lady. 

My Favourite Mug

 

I read this paragraph on Facebook this morning and had to laugh as I was drinking coffee, at the time, out of my favourite mug  

It’s large and has hand painted flowers on it. What makes it special is that it was a gift from my staff when I was leaving that facility to work in another town. That was in 1999, so I’ve been drinking my morning coffee from it for 23 years.

I’ve had other mugs that were also gifts, that became chipped and should probably have been discarded when I cleaned out the cupboard.  For sentimental reasons I keep them and put them to some other use. Like holding my paintbrushes on my paint cart.

Another old mug holds scissors, crochet hooks and a couple of pens next to my bed where I crochet at night while watching television.

I can always find a spot or use for a mug, especially those that make me smile when remembering the source.

Angel Food Cake

 I baked an angel food cake yesterday but left the cleanup of the cake pan to today. I left it to soak and scrubbed it clean this morning. It’s an odd pan, two pieces, one like a deep cake pan but with the bottom cut out, the other an insert with a hollow cone standing in the middle. 

As I was almost elbow deep in hot water, scrubbing, I paused to think about how long I’d had this pan. How many times I had packed and unpacked this pan, each time making the decision to keep it, even though it often sat in the cupboard, unused for stretches of time.

Angel food was the cake of choice for all the birthdays when I was growing up. Angel food cake with chocolate icing and ice cream on the side. I don’t remember my Mom ever making a cake from scratch, as she really didn’t like baking. Angel food cake from a mix is so easy, just add water and beat it for a minute. Mom’s kind of baking. (Sorry Mom, love you ❤️ But your talents lay elsewhere).

I suppose I followed the tradition and bought my own pan when I was married. I have to figure I’ve had this pan for forty years.

Forty years.  That beat up old pan, awkward to store, awkward to pack and awkward to clean. I find myself teary eyed, remembering family, and all those occasions celebrated year after year with Angel food cake. Sometimes it’s the simple things that mean the most. 

Sandwich Memories

 My daughter came by for lunch today and I made her one of my favourite sandwiches. A fresh croissant with cream cheese and raspberry jam. I’ll buy the necessary “makings” every once in awhile and treat myself. My guest said it tasted like a danish and I suppose it kind of does. 

I first tasted this combination thirty years ago when I was working in a city hospital. A coworker  and I were going through the line in the hospital cafeteria and I was curious when she selected a croissant and a couple individual containers of the jam and cream cheese.  I watched her construct her sandwich and was sold when she gave me a taste. It’s been a long time Remonde, but thanks for the lunch idea and the memories.

Another great sandwich I make is a version of what my Dad and I ordered when dining in a French restaurant in downtown Toronto. I was home for the summer on break from nursing school. Dad and I always had lunch at least once when I was home, a bit of father-daughter time. 

We had a great layered sandwich with bread, ham, and of course cheese. Their version had two slices of bread but I make mine with just one. So, to make it. Toast a piece of bread and place it on/in an ovenproof dish or baking sheet.  On top of that goes a piece of ham. Not the thinly sliced deli ham but a thicker piece.

This makes a good meal after you’ve cooked a whole ham, uses up the leftovers. After the ham is a slice of Mozzarella cheese, then a second piece of toast if you like.  The top is then covered in grated cheddar cheese and the whole thing baked until all the cheese is melted.

My Dad has been gone a long time, and this has become one of those comfort foods that make me feel a warmth, a security of loving and being loved in return. ❤️

My last memory sandwich comes from my Mom. She was not a Susie Homemaker but an artist, and meals were not always planned ahead, so we never knew what we might be having. Mom wasn’t one for the tried and true meat and potatoes menu. She liked to experiment and if we saw a magazine open on the counter we knew it would be one of those nights.

This one is made on a hamburger bun. Lay the buns open on a baking sheet. Layer ham on one side, and this time the deli sliced is good. Cover with a drained ring of pineapple and fill centre of the pineapple with Cheeze Whiz.  Place the baking sheet under broiler until cheese is melted and top of bun toasted brown.

I have had so many people turn their nose up at the description of this sandwich only to rave about it after tasting. This is one meal that my kids approve and have served to their families.

This one was a keeper, Mom, not like that horrible Captain’s Casserole you tried. That was so bad we were relieved when Dad voted no, never again, with the kids. 

Milestones

 I was sitting out front last evening, waiting for the family to arrive, anxious to see my grandson. As he exited the car and walked across the lane, I started to cry.

Fourteen years old, handsomely decked out in an attractive grey suit and tie, his shoes still shiny with newness, he was stopping by before the ceremony for his grade eight graduation. 

Grade eight. I can’t believe how much he’s grown into himself in these last few years. He has his own style, clothes and hairstyle, ready to face the dreaded grade nine in the fall. 

And he’s not the only one. Another grandchild, his cousin, is also graduating this week. Only a month’s difference in age, she is also heading for high school come September. And then there was one, the last grandchild who will enter grade eight.

With all the on again-off again lockdowns over the past few years I missed seeing my grandchildren make that inevitable leap from child to young adult. It seems as if they grew up while I wasn’t looking. 

Another graduation this week is my third granddaughter’s from high school.  She’s taking a year off to work before committing to a career and further education. Her cousin is a year behind her and will graduate next year.

Seven teenagers between the two households. Busy times, and busy schedules.  I remember them as babies, toddlers, youngsters. 

Just as they’ve grown up, I’ve grown old. Alas, both are inevitable. 

New Friends

 I was enjoying my morning coffee on the patio outside my door when I had an unexpected visitor.

This has to be the biggest toad I’ve ever seen. 

I do admit I like my little chipmunk visitor more. Could be because I grew up on chip and dale instead of Kermit the frog. Frog?  Toad?  

Apparently frogs have big bulging eyes while toads eyes are more subtle in appearance. And frogs have smooth or slimy skin that is moist and toads have thicker, bumpy skin that is usually dry.

Not that I know by first hand experience, but I think this guy was a toad. I don’t really go for the slimy kind of friends. 

Start and Finish

 I really hate to start something and leave it unfinished. I have books written but not to completion, crochet items stuffed away to be completed at another time. 

I’d like to say it’s just boredom, and it is to a great extent, but it’s more fatigue, mental and physical. 

I have not used my laptop in years, not since I got my iPad and my cell phone. New toys that I could use wherever I was, for games, news, streaming and communicating. But not for writing. And because my laptop was put away so was my connection to my blog. 

My blog, something I started and very much enjoyed, and something I didn’t finish. If it was to be no more the least I could do was say goodbye.

I’ve decided it’s not goodbye but hello, hope to see you more often.  Will do my best.