Tears

Tears come easily to some people. Too easily sometimes. Take me for instance. You knew it would come back to me, didn't you? It always does! I'm my favorite topic. Anyway, I cry easy and easily. Easy because there are no wracking sobs, just the little lip tremble, the quaver in the voice and the tear trickling down my cheek. And you wouldn't believe the list of things that bring that reaction. For instance, a few years ago McDonald's televised a commercial that showed a group of six or seven very young children, say five or six years old. All walking into McDonald's out of a rain storm, each of them in a little yellow slicker and rain hat, with clumsy rain boots. It was so sweet and cute, that I teared up on the spot. Silly.
My daughter was once describing "Shadowlands", a movie that was brilliant, but sad. Hers was a warning to everyone that it was difficult to watch. She turned to me and said, "It would probably kill you." She knows I can't watch sad movies.
One of the most painful scenes in a movie is the end of "Carousel". Have you seen the movie? A real tear-jerker; and that last scene is something else. Ask me about it someday, you'll find that I can't describe it without tearing up. Billie comes back from the grave to try to help his wife get through the trials of life. At the end, he stands behind her and sings "When You Walk Through a Storm". He couldn't be the husband that she needed in life but was trying to help her. My description isn't adequate, but it is excruciatingly sad.
Anyway, tears. This is United Way enrollment week in the office where I work. I'm not a fan of United Way, but they gave us free ice cream for the kickoff. Yum. And every day, there are representatives from two organizations that receive funds from the program. Today, one of them was Hospice of Dayton. Hospice is great and I thought I'd go over and tell them so, and thank them for what they did for my dad. My dad died over 7 years ago and was only at Hospice for 24 hours. Yet I stood there and cried. Even now, thinking about that little two minute vingette, the tears come, the throat tightens and I can't speak. I don't think about him often, but I love him. And I remember.

Done It Again

At this moment, there are three sets of five pound hand weights on my bedroom floor, under a table. There is an exercise ball, still in the box, a medicine ball with video training, and at least three exercise bands in the same place. Do I use them? NO, I DON'T!
Over many decades I've owned some exercise equipment. Two treadmills, an exercise bike and a stair-stepper come to mind. They were passed to me from my parents who also didn't use them. Over a certain amount of time, they became excellent clothes racks. Eventually they were passed on to others with good intentions.
I must confess... well, I mustn't confess but will, I am sometimes concerned at the level of inactivity in my life. I remember looking at my mother and thinking, "For crying out loud, the woman never gets out of her recliner!" She was about 70 when I first started thinking that. And here I am, not 70. Many days, I come home from work, sit down in the recliner, pull the laptop into my lap (go figure), pick up the remote control for the television and don't. get. up.
I should be going for nice long walks, enjoying the free gym that's available at my workplace, doing a few pushups every morning, yadda yadda yadda. But I don't. A variety of aches and pains make for great excuses, but with or without them, I don't.
Which brings me to today. Leaving the temple, we found that the lovely neighborhood across the street was having a community garage sale. Nothing like being spiritually fed and then browsing through strangers' junk with the hope of finding a hidden treasure. So there we were, driving around, and I spotted it! An exercise bike. Not a really tacky, half broken one but not a high end humongous one with 400 bells and whistles. We stopped, I got on it and it worked. Smoothly, without dropping me or making me feel like it would drop me. I would have haggled (although I don't like that very much) except the price had been dropped to $10. Ten. Dollars. We bought it, Ronald darling wrestled it into the back of the car with only a minor tear in the fabric on the interior roof of the car. We drove home with it sticking out of the hatchback, strapped shut, only vibrating slightly over the road.
We brought it in the house, not sure where to put it. Some furniture rearrangement in the bedroom will be involved. Right now, it sits in the living room. We've both been on it and realize that even without resistance, it can provide a much needed workout.
So, I've done it again, fallen victim to my good intentions. We'll see. I don't need another clothes rack. Wish me luck!

A Conundrum

Once upon a time, Ronald darling was a cook in the Air National Guard. That was his designation, but he was assigned to bake. He baked all night, so that the mess hall would smell of freshly baked bread in the morning. Hmm... salivating at this very moment at the thought of fresh baked bread.
Oh, look! A squirrel!
Sorry, lost my place. He loved the job, loved the baking and loved leaving when everyone else was coming in for the day. The Guard job did not carry over to home life. I've done most of the baking in our marriage, when there was any baking going on. But now?
There's a whole lot of baking going on. About a year ago, Ronald darling started taking brownies to the temple every Thursday. He'd buy a box of brownie mix, whatever was on sale, and bake 'em up. Then he got cute, and started throwing chocolate chips, or nuts, or marshmallows, or toffee chips, or peanut butter chips, or butterscotch chips or potato chips (fooled you!) into the mix. He tasted a friend's home made brownies one day, and thought maybe he should try to make his own.
So, he's been experimenting, sometimes good, sometimes not so good, but everyone at the temple eats them up. One day someone asked him if he ever made lemon bars. He didn't, but he does now. He's been through at least three recipes to get them just right.
Then one day he tried a new recipe for brownies. He likes them nice and thick, and these were just perfect. He'd been baking all day when I got home. "Taste these," he said. "These are too good for the temple." He was right! I ate six of them that evening, took three to work and ate the last one when I got home the next evening! They are even better when he puts Ande's Chocolate Mint chips in them.
A couple of weeks ago, we went to a farewell openhouse for friends. He made cookies that were delicious. They went over really well. One gal described them as "Christmas cookie plate good". I have requests for the recipe and one teeny weeny problem. Ronald darling doesn't remember what he made that day! I described them as best I could to prompt his memory (you know how old people are) so now he's pretty sure he might sort of remember which ones he made. So now I have to supply my friends with the recipe with that caveat.
Sometimes puzzles are fun. Sometimes not.

How Music Works

I have no idea. Really. I love music (most forms), but I couldn't write a song if my life depended on it. How Beethoven wrote brilliant classical music while deaf? Not a clue! How Mozart began composing at the age of 5, writing symphonic, concert, chamber, choral, opera and piano? It's a mystery!
I don't understand periodic music... Medieval, renaissance, baroque, classical, romantic or even 20th century. Music theory? Huh uh.
I like all of these.... even some opera. I like swing, rock, country, jazz, blues and folk. I listen to pop and show tunes and I love choral music. But I don't understand how it is composed, what makes the notes fit together. What is the inspiration for a particular piece of music? I can figure out why a slaver who became a Christian wrote "Amazing Grace". And I know what prompted Loretta Lynn to write "Coal Miner's Daughter" and Dolly Parton to write "Coat of Many Colors". The motivation I understand, the method, not so much.
Gioachino Rossini was an Italian composer(1792-1868). He wrote 39 operas, including "The Barber of Seville", as well as chamber music, religious music, popular songs and instrumentals.
I understand one piece of music he composed.

Kookie

It's amazing the things that pop into your mind. I put on a denim jacket this morning and the collar turned up a little bit. And there he was... Edd "Kookie" Burns. Loved him! So cute, so sexy and just a little bit of a bad boy!
I know you youngsters have no idea but WOW! I was crazy about him. He was a secondary character on a detective show called "Seventy Seven Sunset Strip". He became as much a part of the show as the stars... sort of like Urkel only SO cool.

So with that image in my mind... the song came. Yes, they wrote a song about his character; the song is called "Kookie, Kookie, Lend Me Your Comb". What a difference a few decades make. Who shares combs these days? Who even uses a comb? Of course, all the men in my life comb their hair with a washcloth! LOL

Old television shows have been under discussion around here all evening. They may come up in future posts.

Anyhoo, two songs from that television show have been in my head all day.

Mormon Monday: Family Examples

Ronald darling and I were with our daughter, her husband and their two sons a week or so ago. We drove down on a Saturday and were able to attend church in their ward the next day. It was a great day, but I missed the most special part of it. Our youngest grandson was all dressed for church in his white shirt, tie and dress pants. He noticed that his grandpa was wearing the same color suit as the youngsters trousers. He remembered that he had a jacket the same color, so he went and put it on. Then he noticed that grandpa had a handkerchief tucked in the breast pocket of his coat. Young one asked why, how do you get it in there with the pointy parts up, can I have one? So Ronald darling showed him how to grab it, tuck it and fluff it. They went to church identically dressed and I missed the significance. Drat!
While we were visiting, we had breakfast each morning and read the scriptures with them. I would love to say that my daughter learned that families should read the scriptures together from the wonderful example set by her parents. Can't say it, 'cause it isn't true. I was so impressed with that little morning study. Everyone read in rotation, the youngest always getting to read the last few verses in the chapter. He was so excited on the last day because they were finishing Helaman. "Tomorrow we get to start Third Nephi!" What great parents, that their children are excited to read that special part of the Book of Mormon.
Every prayer included a request that Heavenly Father "help us not to fight". My grandchildren have learned that certain behaviors are not right, and that Heavenly Father will help us overcome our problems.
So yesterday I was chatting with my daughter and she told me about the boys getting ready for church. Young one put on his clothes, laid out his handkerchief, picked it up just so, tucked it and fluffed it just right. Just like grandpa did it. I wish I'd seen it!

You've Been In The South When...

Ronald darling and I recently visited our daughter and her family in the Carolinas. Ronald darling did not want to go because it would mean he couldn't sleep in his own bed, he couldn't drink out of the jug in the refrigerator, and he couldn't snack on whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted. We bought him his own jug of chocolate milk and put it on the top shelf of the refrigerator and let him buy his own snacks. We couldn't do anything about the bed, but promised he could sleep with the same great lady he slept with at home. He settled.

You see definite differences in the south. These are some of the ones I love most. It is not a comprehensive list, it may not be accurate for all of the southern states and/or neighborhoods and is seen through the eyes of a woman who doesn't always notice every detail.

Grooming
Fewer tatoos, especially on the ladies.
Trousers and jeans on young men are worn at the waist!
Women in the grocery are wearing make-up and have their hair styled, even first thing in the morning.
Men's hair is shorter and less often in pony tails.

Food
It's better. Okay, too vague.
Hush puppies are served with butter for dipping. Yumm.
Barbeque sandwiches are served with cole slaw on top of the meat. Yumm.
Fat back is next to the bacon on the breakfast bar. Hmmm.
Deep fried corn on the cob. 'Nuff said!

Scenery
Fifty foot Southern Pine trees tower over everything.
The Appalachian Mountains - gorgeous.
Family... always helps make everything look good!
More flowers, more flowering shrubs - gorgeous.

Negatives
Kudzu

Mormon Monday

In the past week, I've seen two families lives turned upside down. Not only don't we know what will happen tomorrow, next week or next year, we don't know what the next moment holds. Good news, bad new, joy or tragedy. And when tragedy is there, what can we do? I've seen it hit three families this week. Two had sudden tragedies with no forewarning; the other saw the escalation of a debilitiating, fatal disease that is slowly destroying the mind and body of a family member.
What could I do? "Sorry for your loss?" "I hope the tests come back negative." "She'll be in a better place soon?" "Is there anything I can do to help?"
Obviously there are things that can help, things that we do on a routine basis. Watching the kids, making funeral potatoes, visiting the sick and afflicted. My desire is to take away the burdens, but burdens were what we signed on for when we came to the earth. Everyone will have these issues in one form or another. Everyone in the family may be healthy, but the family members may be wayward. Everyone may be faithful and hard working, but still remain single, or infertile, or deaf, disabled or unemployed.
So what can I do?

The only answer is prayer. While my actions may make things a little better for a little while, it doesn't take away their burden. So I pray. I pray for insight, that I will recognize the things I can do. I pray that they will be comforted, that the doctors will be wise, that they will recognize the hand of God in their lives. That they will be strong enough to carry the burden given and that the Lord will make the burden seem lighter. That the trials they go through will draw them closer to God, that they will cast their burdens upon him and allow him to sustain them. Sometimes it doesn't seem like enough, but prayer is the best, but not only, thing that we can do.

Mormon Monday

Following the example and recommendation of a friend, I am instituting a recurring, themed post on my blog. Mormon Monday. Welcome to the first.

I have favorite scriptures; not just one, but many. And they change depending on my need at any given moment. But some of them are constants. Like this one.

"And now behold, I ask of you, my brethren of the church, have ye spiritually been born of God? Have ye received his image in your countenances? Have ye experienced this mighty change in your hearts?
Do ye exercise faith in the redemption of him who created you? Do you look forward with an eye of faith, and view this mortal body raised in immortality...?"
- Alma 5:14-15

It's kind of nervous-making to have the Lord, through his prophets, ask you specific questions like that. Or, it can be. But these make me smile. I love this one. "Have ye received his image in your countenances?" Sometimes you can just tell by looking that someone is good and sweet and Christlike.

Rockets Red Glare

I was tired this evening... dozing in the recliner with the laptop glowing. I know that never happens to anyone else, but my life is SO exciting that I just don't make it through most evenings without nodding off. I woke up with full intentions of going straight to bed, but alas, the television was on the History Channel. I don't know why I was there, it's usually HGTV or a rerun of NCIS. Not this time.
The War of 1812, the battle of Ft McHenry, and the battle of New Orleans helped define the vision the United States had of itself and maintains today.
Two pieces of music stand out because of that war. First is our national anthem. It was written by Francis Scott Keye after that battle. He was being held aboard a British ship, and was watching the 25 hour bombardment of Fort McHenry all day and through the night. When dawn came, the flag was still raised over the fort and the Britsh left. They had given up that part of the fight but still pressed on to take New Orleans.
Another song was written about that battle, written much later and without the same reverence.
So here's the Battle of New Orleans:


And our National Anthem: