Author: Rene

I think the name of the hole-in-the-wall place near my bro’s is CKs. I recognize the waitress from my many stops for a burger, and this last visit, I think she now knows I am a sister, not a girlfriend.

The place is simple with excellent food, and home of the famous ”Duke.”

The Duke is a huge serving of beer in a large vessel. Ice cold. My sister and I ordered one a couple of years ago, but I learned we were served in the great outdoors and couldn’t get the ”true” version, which I was given last week. It’s a lot of beer. More than I consume in a year.

Thankfully, he lives within walking distance of this establishment. There’s probably another ”Duke” in my future!

Who has the same instructor for four years in grade school? Who gets to meet that teacher 55 years later? My little grade school had its first reunion for all attendees of St. Joseph’s Grade School, and my favorite teacher in the whole wide world was there. Marya.

I just wanted to have her all to myself to tell her what an impact she made on my learning, my self-esteem, my life. All of us there wanted to do the same! She was a youthful, amazing nun, and she gifted us all with a desire to learn. Six of the top ten students in my graduating class were those she educated. That’s something big.

It was a beautiful ending to a week of Midwestern medicine. My jaws are aching from talking so much, my belly from laughing more heartily than I have in years, and my heart from those we have lost throughout the years.

Shakespeare nailed that one. ”Parting is such sweet sorrow.” I’m sure my musings will take me back to many stories shared this past week. Join me for the ride!

Anyone recognize the signs? I know my family does!

When I was about five years old my own grandmother gave me a nickel and my sister a dime. I proclaimed, ”That’s not fair.” Apparently I had a knack for finance? Anyway, Grandma says to me, ”Life’s not fair.”

Early lessons stick with you!

Today I spent an afternoon ”Painting with Bob Ross.” Remember him? The gentle voice creating a masterpiece so deftly? My mom used to watch him, so we all watched him in the afternoons. I was hoping for a nap, but his melodic voice kept me checking his skill as he created a mountain scene.

“These little trees are fun, and it’s your world, so add as many as you want.” ”Remember which way the light is shining for your shadows.” He was so soft-spoken. I have to assume one of the episodes was of his son, who apparently took over after his father passed. He had a lovely little story to tell.

It was a calming and relaxing afternoon. Just what the doctor ordered.

It’s not often travel includes a funeral, wedding, and class reunion, all within a week. I’m honored to be able to attend the funeral of a dear cousin, the wedding of a special brother-in-law, and my grade school reunion, hoping to see the other nine classmates from that era.

Each of the three celebrations requires a different wardrobe choice and obviously different footwear. The weather will volley from 50 to 90 degrees, further complicating the decision.

The good news? I’ll be driving my suitcase so I can take it all! At least I won’t need winter gear this week.

There’s nothing like a wintery day to throw “spring cleaning” into high gear! Geez.

The day began with me running like a nut through the yard dispensing Miracle-Gro All Purpose Plant Food on every tree and shrub on the property. My husband did the lawn. At the end of my job I was wet from the fat flakes and muddy, muddy, muddy. I cleaned up, and then ran out the door with my daughter and assisted her with the jobs on her list. When I returned home I was tired and cold. I took a hot bath.

After dinner, sitting in my fluffy robe, all nice and cozy, I suggested an outing. Nothing celebrates the return of winter like ice cream! Off we went to discover that Dairy Queen was closed and our closest option for a frozen treat was McDonald’s. It was satisfying enough and I returned home, still enrobed, to finish watching Jeopardy and solving the daily puzzles.

And it really is a pretty wonderland outside.

Let’s just face it, I was tired. I hadn’t slept but a few hours the night before. It’s the only reason to justify why a tiny properly rolled up wet diaper was still in the pocket of my dress as I prepared for bed last night. It was just a little lump.

Rather than chastise myself, I just smiled, because I had such fun with my teething buddy. And after a restful night, I’m hoping to tidy up around here, battening down the hatches again as we prepare for the winter storm to descend tomorrow.

Hugs and kisses, Mother Nature!

This year I broke my own rule. I planted my annuals before Memorial Day weekend. I should know better.

Apparently I shall be paying the price, along with everyone else who planted right after Mother’s Day. We have a rain/snow mix in the forecast and freezing temps by the end of the week. I’ll be dragging and covering the pots. And I just finished planting yesterday! I couldn’t have waited one more week?

As I always quote my mother when I plant, ”Hope springs eternal.”

Last night I was outside alone, and the little hummingbird I have heard for the past week silently alighted on the Dipladenia I had just potted. I think this guy is waiting for the Indian Paintbrush to bloom.

We have fox. My husband finally confirmed what the rest of the “Winks” have said. He is bushy and well-fed. I can only hope there are squirrels in his belly? However, having relocated two already, I think the rodents may still be around.

We hear the ”owl in the hood,” and the hawk. You’d think we live somewhere other than suburbia. My friend, ”Pom,” actually scouted the owl by Target. You should check out her Instagram. She is an amazing photographer. Look her up. Singhanaga. She captures the most amazing photos. Nature seems to adapt to us?

So…fox, owls, hawks, hummies, and yes, squirrels. They make excellent morning coffee companions. Except the squirrels.

Whilst ambling to the local Target on a Sunday stroll, I perchanced to walk under the overhang of a neighboring retailer. The ground was greatly splattered with excreta, obviously from a member of the avian species. It was dangerous territory.

Upon looking up, one could see nothing. Therefore, much to my surprise and that of my rambling partner, we were stopped in our tracks on the return trek when an approaching cyclist halted in front of us and stared. ”See him?”

Our eyes followed his line of sight to a cozy little nook with an owlet, species unknown. The gentlemen said he’d been eyeing this little one with his mother for quite some time. It was precious.

As my MIL always says, ”It was a little razzle dazzle in the day!”