BANGNABBIT!

Of all the holidays, the Fourth of July is my least favorite. First of all, do you call it the Fourth of July with capital letters or is it really the 4th of July? I could google it but I think I'll wait to finish this blog and then decide for myself what works the best for me.

The Fourth means NOISE and lots of it. Around here, most of the revelers cross the state line and go into Vancouver to purchase their arsenals and bring them home in the backs of their pick-ups next to the cases of beer. Then they spend the afternoon building platforms to hold the giant firecrackers or m-80s or whatever they're called. After the barbecue is over, the little kids are allowed to twirl around their sparklers and other "safe" fireworks before the Big Bangs begin.

This is when the BIG NOISE starts. My husband and I like to go to bed around nine o'clock for some reading time but find this nearly impossible for all the whizzing, whirling and huge bangs going off.  We've usually just come home from the party our  friends throw and are no longer interested in even thinking about the watermelon or strawberry shortcake that is served before the "show" starts. We just want our bed and our books.
My husband over worries about stray firecrackers landing somewhere on our property and starting a fire. (I actually think this is a ridiculous worry but I don't say anything about it.)

And then most of the neighbors stay up late enjoying the beer they bought earlier and loudly calling out patriotic greetings to one another.  It isn't until somewhere between ten and eleven that things start to quiet down when we can begin thinking about turning out the lights and settling in for the night.

I'm the one who worries about the pets who have been cowering under the dining room table or sent to an unfamiliar friend's house to ride out the fun together.  Their dog chooses to cower under the friends' bed so the dogs don't even take a chance on comforting each other.

The Fourth of July is a fun day even for us but it can be dangerous.  There are always a few who blow off fingers or otherwise stupidly hurt themselves. The only other time this happens is on Thanksgiving  when some poor cook burns her hand, arm or fingers taking the enormous turkey out of the oven.

So Happy Fourth of July! And I do mean that sincerely.  Just BE CAREFUL! Oh. And by the way, I prefer to call it the Fourth of July and not the 4th. 

Summer Fun

Hmm. . . .rat-a-tat with my fingers. I'm thinking about summer. It's a season much loved and eagerly awaited in Oregon. The rain lets up for a while and we can actually go outside without wearing our hoodies and we can wear flip flops all the time. So let's consider summer.

Actually, summer is not my favorite season. It gets way too hot in August whether you believe in climate change  or not. I hate the heat. Pretty interesting when you consider that I live in an air-conditioned home. The problem with that is that my husband thrives in the heat and prefers to have all the windows and screened doors open so the heat can permeate the house. I don't like the way the air feels when the thermometer goes above 72.  To me, that means it's time to shut all the doors and windows and hunker down in the cool of  the family room and let the ceiling fans do their thing along with the air conditioning.  Now that's comfortable. This air-conditioning v. hot air debate has produced an uneasy and a somewhat ugly truce at our house.

And how about summer clothes? I don't think that any woman over 60 should wear shorts. Just sit in the grocery store parking lot for a few extra minutes and watch those cellulited, varicose veined legs go by.  Not a pretty sight, folks. Same goes for tube tops. You have to be about 14 to look even half way good in those crazy things.  And swimming suits? Never again unless you're in the physical therapy pool.  If you're somewhere near water wear some lightweight capris and a comfortable t-shirt with some sparklies of some kind on it.  

The much acclaimed summer food even gets tiresome after you've eaten too many fruit salads containing too many chunks of watermelon. You're perfectly aware that the hostess is serving this to get rid of all the extra watermelon her frig will hold.  Here's where I plead guilty. I do the same thing.

So get out your bug spray, your tanning lotion, your favorite shorts and tube top and enjoy the weather. If you get a mosquito bite, put an x on it with your finger nail and then spit on it. The itch will feel better for a few minutes. And as for  me, I'll be holed up in my cool house reading a good book.

The No Name Entry

I'm not sure how to put these thoughts all together in one neat package with an obvious theme that runs throughout the narrative but I'll write it out and you see what you think about how all the ideas relate to one another.  How's that for passing the writing buck?

First: This is the month for Mother's Day. I remember the very first time I bought a Mother's Day gift. Every Saturday my Dad gave my brother and me a quarter to spend any way we liked and because we loved the dime store called Sid's located next door to the super market where my parents did their weekly grocery shopping, Sid's is where we headed. We looked at lots of fabulous things that we just knew our mother would like and ended up getting the beautiful paper plates and cups that had pink flowers on them. We hid them under her bed. She didn't tell us that she could see them every time she went into her bedroom.  But she didn't let that spoil our nearly unbearable excitement when it came to presenting the gift. And, of course, she loved it.

Second:  I have what I'll call a keepsake book on my desk. It's one of those small albums full of so many blank pages that they could never be filled with diary or journal thoughts. So I keep stuff I like in it.  Examples:  a letter written from my grandmother to my parents dated Dec 30, 1966, several poems cut out of The New Yorker that are still just as good as the first time I read them, a photo of my mentor teacher Ernst Lau, lots of pictures of my grandgirls, the magic glasses I wore when I looked at the eclipse of the sun in 2017, and an account of our trip to New Orleans.  There's lots of other stuff too, but let's not get too boring. (But do men keep these sort of books? I don't think so.)

Third:  I remember parts of a lecture I gave to my Humanities class that had something to do with how certain things revolutionized cultures and societies.  I don't know why this has come to mind so much recently. Think about how certain tales of yore landed in our culture.  Beowulf  was most certainly a tale told around the campfires of old. Those tales preserved our culture and are still studied today as examples of historic literature that revolutionized how we write stories.  And the invention of glass made it easier for early warriors to see the approach of an enemy. Plus Shakespeare!  WOW!  What he did for our language is astounding!

So how do all those thoughts relate?  I'm not sure but I think it has something to do with memories.  Oh, come on, Terry. . .duh.

                           
                     Why Is It April Already?

Here are some random questions that have popped into my mind for one reason or another and I thought I'd share them
hoping I might get some answers:

Who "styles"  Donald Trump's hair?  (I often ask myself this question.)

Why is Finnegan's Rainbow so hard to read? 

What happens to those cute, live, baby chicks after Easter?

Was Elvis really a good singer?

Why do teenagers stay up so late?

Why is movie popcorn so expensive?

Why don't people chat on elevators?

Why does gum lose its flavor so quickly?

Why don't more people recycle?

Why are there so many old "People"magazines in doctors'offices?



Do you have your own set of ongoing questions?

OOPS!

Sorry. I'm a day late on my blog.  March just sneaked up on me so I'll set that straight right now.  (And, yes, "sneaked" is the correct usage here.)

Books. They are an integral part of my life.  I get a tiny bit desperate if I don't have at least a small stack of them just waiting for me to crack open.  Sometimes I smell the pages especially when the book is new. I always read the inside cover information to help me decide if this or that book is a good choice for my reading needs. I never read the ending before I get to it.  That's cheating.  My reading is a sacred part of my life so I keep it pure.

Where to find books. The library is a good source, of course. We have a good library here in Oregon City and I visit occasionally just to see what new books are featured. If my stack of books is too low, I might check out a book or two just to maintain the stack. But they have due dates and sometimes I like to really linger over an especially good book.

The only place I visit at the Mall is Barnes and Noble. I can buy a book or three and start reading one while I enjoy a cup of coffee at their indoor coffee shop. Then I go home.  There is nothing in the rest of the Mall that interests me. I've done all the shopping I need to do in my life other than what I buy on the internet.

The absolute best place to buy a book is at an independent book store. A good one will have a wide selection including one for children. The clerks are friendly and helpful. Soothing music plays in the background. The store smells like new books. It looks happy with its round and square display tables that you can walk around at any pace that suits your looking quota.

You can buy your books online which I do occasionally and you can trade books with your friends which is another favorite source of my reading finds. You can listen to books on tape. 

I know I haven't mentioned all the ways and places to find books. And I can't help but tell you that sometimes I simply leave books in public places like restaurants or rest rooms hoping someone will just pick them up and enjoy them.

But my main message here is simply to encourage you and others to escape to other worlds and times just by opening a good smelling book that you acquired in the way you prefer to find your reading adventures. Happy reading!

(I hope the recent changes for bloggers has not interrupted my need to get some of my ideas out into the world.) 

Snow Day

As a retired teacher I still go berserk when the possibility of a snow day occurs. My behavior can only be described as manic. And the mania starts the night before when I remain fixed on the TV channel that most consistently predicts snow. It's difficult not to switch back and forth between channels so I just do it. Sometimes two channels predict snowfall at the same time so my excitement leads me to wondering if we should go to the store and get some much needed items such as donuts or deli roast beef.  I check to see if we have some good cheese and maybe there's a can of tomato soup hidden behind the cereal boxes in the pantry. After all, what's a snow day without tomato soup and a grilled cheese sandwich?

Off to bed.  I get up once or twice to use the bathroom but really I'm trying to see if any flakes are visible. If they are, a little inward dance of hopeful joy begins as I head back to bed.

And what I find to be the most interesting part: I get up way earlier than I have ever done in either my teaching or retired days and once again glue myself to the TV.  I am watching the trailer at the bottom of the screen as it lists the school closures for the day. Oh, please, please, please, and double please.  At least we can have a late start.  Those days make the work day fun and thrilling because the schedule is off kilter and so  many people are absent. I rush to create a lesson that will be enjoyable, teachable, and easy for the absentees to make up,.

OH MY GOOD AND GLORIOUS FORTUNE! The heavily hoped for announcement trailers on the TV! No school!  And I look outside as daylight arrives and stare gratefully at all the white I can see from my living room window. The streets are covered too, so little traffic is heard except for spinning tires trying to get out of driveways. 

Of course, I hate to actually go out into the snow. It's too cold and then too wet and then too exhausting and by noon at the latest I start watching for the snow to melt so I can get back to my regular comfortable schedule. Retired teachers wait just as hopefully as working ones.  We have things to do and we want them completed before the snow day totally upsets our weekly goals and plans. I begin to watch the thermometer in my back yard hoping things will warm up fast enough so I can get to school. Yes, teachers are still weird about snow days even when they are retired. 

Close Out Sales!! Hurry! Sales End at Midnight Tonight!

(Browsing through Craig's List and the newspaper early this morning we found the following provocative ads:)

For sale:  50 sealed boxes of fresh air!  Perfect for when climate change overcomes your personal space!  Half price at $20.00 per
box!

Free to the first 199 entrants! Parents, these are going fast so sign up NOW for your child's 24 hour device free experience. Includes a vegan lunch and a guided tour through the city park.  Adult supervision provided. Plenty of time set aside for free time and creative play at the playground. We will sleep under the stars in cozy sleeping bags stuffed with unprocessed fleece. Again, hurry on this one!

Mary Jane's Main Street Mart is offering 50ml of hemp CBD shots free with the purchase of any bong in the store.

Tickets go on sale this Friday for City Park's Concert featuring Mick Jagger and Yo-Yo Ma performing on the same stage. Ticket prices range from $150-$346.99 with all proceeds being donated to the Save All Sounds of Classical Music Foundation.

. . .and the most curious and interesting ad of all found in the local Arts and Entertainment section--

A truckload of slightly used President dolls will go on sale after the Government Shutdown is over.  These life-like dolls come complete dressed in a blue suit with an extra long coat which helps to hide small hands and a big posterior. No need to style the hairdo since it is permanently sprayed to the head. Press a button on the doll's forehead and hear fake news using the words "terrific," "witch hunt," and "wall" over and over again.

After that last ad, we retreated to the kitchen for one more cup of coffee made with water of nearly the same color. Sigh. We wonder "what next" for 2019.