It’s “Hey Rene J” Today!

Yes…that is the designation for Mondays when the laundry begins. We do have a routine of sorts now, which varies so differently from pre-C. (Not)

Masks come to mind as I am now making some for the wedding party – and attempting to land on a style which works for all. We have about twelve masks here, all fitting differently, so each of us tends to the one that actually stays on easily. That will be my challenge. Wish me well as the shipment of elastic arrived yesterday and I have no reason to be a slug today.

While we’re on the subject of children’s interpretations – well we were there a day or two ago – I also recall a song I had playing in the car one sunny afternoon. It was on a little audiotape of children’s songs. “Jesus Loves the Little Children” was the classic we were listening to for probably the hundredth time.

One of the verses towards the end of the tune is “Jesus died for all the children.” Obviously my five-year old son was deep in philosophical thought with this song, because he piped up, “Mom? Why did Jesus diaper all the children?”

I replied, “Oh, I wish he had. I wish he had.”

Happy Sunday!

The door was swinging back and forth yesterday all day. It began with the electrician installing outlets on the back deck. (That is my fault. Apparently I have an addiction to outlets – the more the merrier in my book. And what am I really going to plug in back there other than the Christmas lights? We do not know, but we can find something now that we have the capacity!) Anyway, he arrived early and began work, when lo and behold! The window installer showed up a day early with his crew to begin “finishing” the installation of windows. Of course, at nearly 100 degrees, we had the air conditioning on, so we cooled a good portion of The Great Outdoors, too.

Progress is good and I’m hoping the home improvement train keeps running on schedule. The weak link will be the interior painter we hire. (Me.) Estimated time of arrival: wedding day.

My daughter was about three when she sat on the counter of the kitchen at my mother-in-law’s cabin. They were baking together and it was adorable. My MIL says to my girl, “Now we add a little flour.” My daughter turns around and picks a flower from the vase and throws it in.

I was reminded of that homophone mix-up last night as I sang for a Mass filled with young people. It was our church’s Rite of Initiation Mass, and these people were receiving their Confirmation and First Holy Communion sacraments. Along each “family-reserved” aisle, the child had created a small banner with his or her name and artwork. My beautiful child had also done this many years ago, which made me smile.

As we walked into the church and found our daughter’s banner back in the day, it had a headless stick figure on it. Not the pretty flowers, or the beautiful chalices, halos, crosses with which some kids had graced their banners. A stick figure without a head. I queried my child and got the literal answer.

“Mom, it’s the BODY of Christ!”

That still makes me smile.

It isn’t summer until you have a bacon, lettuce and tomato sandwich. Of course, I’ve waited to have one until I had decent tomatoes, the key ingredient. It’s been a craving since my return from the motherland where the tomatoes were not quite ready for cultivation.

My gems were purchased in the grocery, but they were as good as I’m going to get. I successfully grew tomatoes and other veggies for about five years. It was then that those ever-patient thistles reared their ugly heads. They loved the upturned soil, the winds sending their seeds aloft, and they became the most watered patch in the state.

The thistle flower is really pretty, and Scotland is wise to make it the national flower, thus eliminating the need to eliminate the seed. However, they are not an equal opportunity plant in the garden. Thus, no more homegrown tomatoes in that plot. But dreams for a new spot to till invaded my thoughts as I bit into that sandwich yesterday.

The next sign of summer – Palisade peaches and cobbler!

Why is food always on your mind when you’re trying to watch your weight? Perhaps I shall think of thistles instead and marvel at their beauty even as a noxious weed. And book an adventure to Scotland.

It’s not Thanksgiving, but my lovely green-glazed turkey platter sees more use than most plates. We had it out again Sunday evening for serving our yummy flat iron steak. Every time I wash it I think how utterly unattractive it is.

Who wants to serve turkey on a green plate? The problem is, it works well. The plate was a freebie from the now defunct Mervyn’s department store. About twenty years ago a friend we’ll call, “Pristina,” convinced me to go with her and be one of the first 50 to get this lovely dish. I think the one they displayed in the ad was a bisque color – much more appropriate. However, I can see where they needed to get rid of 50 green turkey platters, as it was quite possible no one would actually buy them!

Putting it away yesterday I was reminded of how that platter and I are friends. Maybe our glaze has worn off and we aren’t as attractive as when we were new, but we sure do get the job done. And we both like green.

The Fourth was quite a bang around here – and happily so. Fireworks displays were canceled everywhere due to our dry conditions, as usual, and the winds we’d been having. Personal fireworks are illegal in the cities and counties around us, yet they are still sold in certain parking lots haunted by pyromaniacs. (Or so I’ve heard.) Then, late afternoon on the Fourth, a miracle occurred. It rained!

With the rain came people granting themselves permission to light their displays. I’m sure the police were grateful for the moisture, as they would have undoubtedly been chastised for enforcing the fireworks ban which is in place for our own safety! God was watching out for them, I believe.

Of course, we did our daytime racing cars and battle tanks, getting our kicks out of the sparks and whistles as we dodged the rain. I didn’t have much left in my arsenal, but we felt it was okay to risk it. And then, at night, came the most stunning display we’ve ever seen from our lot. My daughter and intended were leaving around 9 pm when they called us to come to the bottom of the driveway. As far as the eye could see, beautiful brilliant lights filled the sky. My neighbors to the right and across the road were competing with their displays. We had front row seats to the best show I can remember in years.

For once we humans actually did a fine job of using our common sense – ignoring the ban once it rained and stopping the displays around midnight. It was a really good Fourth around here.

That was the question we kids bugged my mother with until my father came home from a late night working at the grain elevator. The Fourth always meant Dad would be late and we’d have to wait. Fireworks are best in darkness anyway, where they really show their stuff.

I credit playing with matches as giving me a great respect for fire. I love pyrotechnical displays. I may even have purchased some in the past – like on the 5th of July when they are on sale? However, I am not a purist, and will take a beautiful light show in abstentia, as we have to do this year. Two years ago the City and County building allowed us to picnic as they put on their Old Glory praise. It was just as beautiful, and more pet-friendly.

You might be able to find me lighting some snakes today, or those goofy tanks that drive about, or a pretty stinky smoke bomb. Maybe those hens that lay eggs, or the pop-its, or the fake guns that spew confetti? I will do it with my garden hose in hand and my flag in the other!

Windows is updating my browser. T-Mobile my phone. McAfee my security. There’s probably some Apple update because I can’t use my Ipad for blogging. I guess even the tech companies are bored and looking for more work?

I already know I’m out-of-date. Nothing new or flashy going on here. As a matter of fact, it’s “overall” day. I’m wearing my overalls. Now what a weird word is that? A boring self-explanatory one. My overalls are worn as an outdated fashion statement and/or gardening aide. They’re bright purple so that I warn insects, vermin, reptiles and solicitors of my presence. They have about 13 pockets because the Duluth Trading Company is that kind of company – providing lots of places to put your junk. If I filled every pocket and hung a hammer off my hip I’d gain about ten pounds. (Maybe some resistance training there?)

So, I’m updating my mulch today and praying I finish before the sun hits me. Oh – and here’s another contronym update from “Pat.” Oops. I can’t find it. I updated my phone and it’s gone. (She still gets a free subscription.)

Whew! “Back in the saddle,” folks, with updates and news galore! If you want a good feel for what’s happening in the world, take a road trip and experience the pulse of the nation.

Rvs and campers galore dominate the roadways, along with FedEx trailers hauling our goods cross country. You can visibly see the results of online shopping! Truckers are the heroes of the road – and their companies are all hiring based on the “back of the rig” advertisements. Out-of-state visitors are pretty rampant. One cute Pennsylvanian couple was photographing the wide open spaces of Northern Colorado as they drove. Most of us would say there is “nothing” as far as the eye can see. A vast amount of nothing can be something. I used to feel like I could finally breathe when I returned from a trip back East, just because of the expanses around us. That is one of the benefits of having new eyes again.

It was my first “get out of Dodge” trip since February. The gorgeous lush fields of the Midwest are promising crops well-over “knee high by the Fourth of July.” Farmers are continuing to feed us as they traverse the two-lane roads between towns. Everyone still waves to you. And humidity continues to be the best friend of aging skin. I returned five years younger.

Oh – our readership also spent waking hours coming up with contronyms, assuring me I was not the only word nerd. (Panita and Paroline added “pitch,” “buckle” and “handicap.”) I never could get back on my site after that riveting post. (A blessing in disguise?)

The calmer pace of life back home always tempers my pulse. And so I return, back to the magic of home improvement projects.