It’s “Hey Rene J” Today!

The gorgeous steam rolling across the lake this morning was so calming. It was hard to pull myself away and head back home. Thankfully, the drive warmed from a mere 9 degrees to 58 by the time I arrived in my own driveway.

My heart and soul are SO ready for Spring.

If it’s got a piece of fruit or possibly a greenish color, it’s a salad. And the most delicious salads are provided at funerals in the Midwestern realms of this great nation. Salads I haven’t had since childhood, salads I do not make and salads I question as being salads.

The delicious Snicker’s salad caught my attention today. It was too yummy to be counted as nutritious, and I ate it! My sister and brother argued it was a chocolate covered graham cracker in that salad yumminess. Nevertheless, I enjoyed it with the frog salad, the orange cream salad, and an actual green leaf salad.

Just a little slice of heaven as we celebrated our friend’s arrival there.

Spring mating season. There was so much roadkill as I drove through the Heartland, I shudder to think of what is sticking in my tires! Critters of every size crossing the roads looking for love.

Oh, just a fun-filled drive complete with a highway accident between two semi-trucks, the first glimpse of Sandhill Cranes arriving earlier than usual, and tumbleweeds galore with the high winds. With all of that excitement I still arrived at my brother’s in time to meet my new grandniece. My SIL made a delicious meal for all of us. Laughter ensued and stories were shared.

The homeland.

I think my brother actually reads what I write….thus, I give him the credit for, “Best Supporting Actor”, in his portrayal of Max Von Detweiler in “The Sound of Music.” I was in college and I actually saw him in action. He was perfect – because he had fun in that role!

Discourse this evening following this memory included the fact that our father went to another town which had previously showcased this musical in which my brother debuted. They had the sets. My dad got the trailer and moved those numerous sets to the school stage which suited his son. I’m sure my brother’s status rose in this procurement. (They had to give him something?) Jab.

No. This is just another small town story. My brother, as many of us are, is a lover of life. He wanted to try the theatre and had fun. Like his older sister, he loved it. Who wouldn’t enjoy being placed in another time or space? It made me think, “We should all be cast in another’s shoes.” We should be given the opportunity to be somebody else without judgment. Theater.

The theater is the greatest place to experiment when you are young, quite frankly at any stage. Putting ourselves in another’s shoes is a gift. And, older now, we can do that without a performance. We can do it in every day life by merely paying the bill for a mother and her children at the restaurant. Maybe by stepping up and lifting that wheelchair? Just opening a door? Every day when I am out in public, I can see where I can be in another’s shoes. It used to be called, “courtesy.” We don’t need a drama class, we just have an opportunity.

So…portraying another person, life, episode….it’s grounding. Hey – congrats, Bro!

Yes, I still have the plastic curlers used for permanent waves. This came to light as my sister was poking fun at the craziness we exhibited back in the 70’s and 80’s, when in-home permanents were the rage.

My mother was the queen of providing curls for her three daughters. Often, when we were all together, we just lined up for beautification. We could whip through three perms in two hours – taking turns curling and rinsing. Sometimes, horror of horrors, we shared a perm! Three could get the use of two and save money on the Lilt product. One has to wonder the damage we inflicted on each other’s heads? No wonder we never made it to “hair model” status. We have the photos to prove it, too.

So, those rods are safely stored in a little-used cabinet. Why? They make me laugh when I happen upon them. Good times.

We weren’t being photographed and videoed and posted -what a blessing! This made me smile though and brought back a memory.

I did fall off my bike many times, grounding gravel in my knee doing my silly stunts. Years later – in the 80’s, I wondered what the heck was happening to my leg? A large lump appeared on my thigh. Doing a little minor surgery, I cut it open and found – a piece of gravel. Obviously it had migrated a bit, but it found its way back to earth.

Just thought I’d share since I couldn’t back then!

If you have the chance and if you are even remotely bored, listen to the commercial for the drug, Caplyta. The voiceover work is flawed.

First, the woman pronounces the name with four syllables, doing so until the end of the ad. The last two pronunciations contain what sounds like three syllables only. Hm. I could be mis-hearing, but I don’t think so. It has bugged me from the first moment I heard the ad.

Sigh. I need another hobby.

Go to a park on a beautiful day. Every mother there will have ten to twenty snacks at the ready and willing to share. At least that’s what was evidenced today. And as always, the other mom’s snacks are the ones your kid wants. Thus, a large pile of delicious and healthy treats on the picnic table is the pot of gold for wee ones.

Ah, the little things. I’ve also learned that you look for a mom when you need a band-aid. She’s sure to have a supply. Look for more life lessons as we navigate outings with a two-year old and twins in tow.

Chatter about tonight’s upcoming babysitting adventure reminded me of a particularly shambolic event in my career. (The word of the day: chaotic, disorganized or mismanaged.)

I believe I was 13 years of age and in charge of four children, the oldest being 11. Who would leave their four kids with a newly minted teenager? Someone with four kids such as these and who lived two houses away from my parents! The two youngest boys, a year apart, were little terrors. They managed to lock me out of the house, but only after we had been outside playing and after they had turned the garden hose on me. The two older kids were of no help. Well, I had enough of that. I up and walked home.

My mother sent me back in dry clothes. I continued to babysit those children for many late nights, and for $.50 an hour. However, someone got wise enough to suggest I bring my sister, a year younger than I, so at least we were a little more of a challenge for those imps. It’s amazing I even considered having children after those harrowing years of child care.

Tonight’s opportunity will erase all of those years of devilish behavior as I enjoy three little angels. The smiles, giggles and laughter are all the payment I need.

Believe it or not, I am looking forward to the commencement of daylight saving time in March.

Yes, my alarm clock has been one hour ahead of schedule for nearly a year. I never changed it. Perhaps it was a mechanism to keep me on my toes in the wee hours when I awake and wonder what time it actually is? Perhaps it was laziness that kept the clock on permanent DST? No. It was merely the fact that every time I change the time on it, I end up setting one of the two alarm features and creating a new problem. I just gave up on it.

Oh, I could get a new clock, however, I now use the alarm on my phone in the rare instance I need one. The little mental math I enjoy every morning keeps me alert pre-coffee. It’s just one of my little tests to keep my mind functioning at peak performance!

Now we head on to the NYT puzzle! Much more enjoyable and less a reminder of my idiocy.