It’s “Hey Rene J” Today!

”It once was lost, but now is found…” Obviously this line refers to many of my earrings.

About a month ago when I was mowing I knew I’d lost an earring. I even thought I knew where it would have been ripped out as I had facial scratches from the shrub to confirm it. It was just too much effort to go and look for it though, so I didn’t. (Too many adornments have been lost in the yard.) Then…Voila!

My son was helping me with yard work and mowing. He came trotting in with the errant earring. He had found it on the mower. It happens to be the mate to my favorite pair of hoops. Once, after four years I found an earring I’d lost hanging on the artificial Christmas tree. It was another favorite – a green and purple pair.

It’s been over ten years now, but I’m still hanging on to the ostrich egg earring I lost long ago. You never know!

Yesterday and today I could hear the change. It’s in the way the leaves rustle. They have reached full potential and they begin to understand fall is not far behind. The sound immediately takes me back to my childhood and to my great aunt and uncle’s farm. For some reason, that sound and understanding is in my memory as we kids ran around waiting for the adults to be done jabbering.

We didn’t visit my grandmother’s sister’s farm often, but we loved it when we did. My great uncle was my grandfather’s brother. Sisters marrying brothers. They always had so many laughs together. And stories! I was so young, but the stories enthralled me. My family moved when I was five years old so we didn’t get to visit the farm often after that.

Not an eloquent story at all, but a fond memory. This little musing sparked my mental wanderings as I listened to the sounds of past and present this morning.

My daily intake of trivia is vast. My daily recall of it is severely hampered.

I just get interesting things every now and then which make me smile. Our language is so varied, confusing, intricate. It’s fun to watch little ones acquire the patterns of speech and the tenses of verbs through our own communication. Sometimes I spend a few rabbit holes researching origins of idioms and words, but most times I breeze by them and chalk it up to the oddities of language.

Here are some fun thoughts:

As it’s Saturday and I have a number of tasks at hand, and having completed my birdwatching-puzzling-cup of coffee time, I shall now commence to complete number 25 on this list.

I did not know most of these interesting words. As I read them I tried to decipher whether or not you could spell the shorter ones in a game of Scrabble. However, remembering them would be a bigger challenge!

#25 in action as I get ready to employ #32 and finish #37 from breakfast.

There are a few strange things I encounter on my drive out of the ‘hood. (Aside from the incredibly weird and unattractive fence I must see every time I enter or leave.) Yesterday was no exception for interesting.

A woman I did not know was walking on the road carrying a sequined dress. She was either taking it somewhere or borrowing it I must assume. It looked like something I might do? I didn’t recognize her, but the sight gave me a good chuckle and reminded me to find the quirky things out there. (There seem to be plenty.)

Off to see what other unconventional things of interest there are in the world!

We have an extraordinary exercise for keeping your hands, wrists and fingers limber. It’s called, “Putting on the Polly.”

Polly Pockets were a thing when my daughter was young, though they didn’t have the array of miniature clothing and accessories as more modern versions. I inherited a tub of Pollys complete with purses the size of a baby’s pinkie nail, shoes no bigger than half a thumb tack, and of course, rubber clothing which defies fumbling fingers when dressing the dolls. The woman who donated these gems to the cause definitely isn’t missing them.

They are a wonderful resource for three girls though, who will spend a good 20 minutes trying to dress them with hats or the one pair of sunglasses which do not work on any miniature form. My four-year old can now get a pair of pants and a shirt on a Polly so I’m currently free to corral the diminutive pieces as best I can. Without fail I will find one or three little accessories in a dish drawer, the pantry, or under a chair. One of the twins likes to hold as many little pieces as she can and journey through the house with them. As I scan the kitchen I see no evidence of the Polly play this morning. (As soon as I rev up the vacuum I’m sure to find something.)

To make an appointment for your dexterity training or eyesight screening just call ahead, we can fit you in.

The jumbo jet flew low heading to DIA at 7 am this morning, probably a United flight arriving from a foreign country. I imagined the people buckled in with their belongings safely stowed, their restless legs itching to get out and walk, and their mussed up hair from attempting overnight sleep. It’s a feeling that makes me antsy even now.

This brought to mind my children’s discussion on teleporting. Wouldn’t that be handy? You could just pick up and go without a bag, looking fresh as a daisy for the entire day that you would be visiting Rome, London, Paris, Sydney, Timbuktu. No more leaving iPads on the plane, newly purchased sweaters on the train, or losing scrabble tiles in transport. (If you dare to play while on vacation.)

Ah, the old wanderlust sets in. And as we learned from an esteemed BIL, “Not all who wander are lost,” is a line from Tolkien’s LOTR. What a great reminder.

You can have colorful blocks and plenty of puzzles, but the toys kids want are all electronic and real – not colorful and fun! However, in the event you have no electronics to share, a great big old box will do.

This little gem showed up and reminded me of the submarines. When my children were little we kept some boxes to build submarines, an idea I had from my own youth reading the Childcraft “Make and Do” volume. Thankfully we had an unfinished basement where we could fashion our underwater submersibles. It was fun, and one of many little things those big boxes could do. My daughter puts her kids inside one with paints and lets them go to town. It’s a colorful be-ready-with-the-hose event.

The only issue with a big box is its storage after its re-creation. If it happens to show rain in the forecast, I recommend accidentally leaving it outside.

My goal for the week was to mow the paintbrush, which is definitely flagging from its prime beauty. (Reminds me of someone else who happens to be typing). Wouldn’t you know it? The little hummingbird is out there on the least colorful blooms, the ones I was planning to demolish this morning. I haven’t seen him for quite awhile. His name is “Hope.”

So, I’m not giving up. As it gets drier and hotter my new mission is to keep the fading colors going until the end of August when the little hummers should move on. Trust me – it’s difficult to look at that weedy mess every morning. But if that little guy keeps visiting it will be worth it.

I missed you little ray of hope. See you tomorrow!

Last night’s dinner guest regaled us with stories, one of them being how he used to bike from Denver to Boulder to visit friends on his weekends. This was on the then two-lane highway 36. We marveled at how he was still here to tell that tale.

Ah, yes. The things we could accomplish with younger, agile physiques. I did get on my bicycle yesterday – rode about six blocks, to my daughter’s house and back. The only challenge I had was keeping my water bottle from hopping out of the bike basket. I’m not sure that explains my sore back, but I did have lean over a couple of extra inches at one point in the journey.

Off to do my stretches…