Thursday, May 5, 2016

Women who break diamonds

I inherited my mother's wedding ring three years ago.

Not only does it represent 62 years of a successful marriage, but it held many memories for me. She wore it 7/24 all those years, except for the time she had it reset because the band had thinned to a thread.

When I went to the jeweler to have it resized (mom never weighed more than 102 pounds except when pregnant, ballooning to 115), he looked at the gem and declared it flawed, and not worth much.

The diamond has a small chip in it, imperceptible to the casual eye.

It didn't matter to me, but I wanted to know how the hardest rock could chip. "Wear, age," the jeweler muttered.

I'm not surprised. A woman who survived dust storms and the Great Depression, walked across a dike to teach at a one room schoolhouse in subzero temperatures (frozen hands in the deal), raised seven challenging children, suffering the death of one, and lived into her nineties, had broken a diamond.

Yep, sounds about right. I'm so proud to wear it in her memory.

Write about what you know

Cliche advice. I'm reading about writing. I'll make my next post about the first thing I see when I open my eyes. I should know something about whatever that is . . .

Wednesday, April 27, 2016

It's a gas! Gas! GAS!

Heh. What's old is new. To me, at least.

I just learned the lyrics to this song. Yes, I grew up with it, but I never listened to the words. I was so taken by the guitar riffs and beat, in fact so much that the lyrics, which seemed to all hit on the same note anyway, just flew past me (ok, except for the "all right now" and "jumpin' jack flash", I did get those). Mind you I was about ten years old when this hit the airwaves, but I never bothered to go back to it, and after a few years down the road, well, you know, life gets in the way of nostalgia . . . until a band mate brought the chord tabs/lyrics to practice on Monday.

I recently learned that the refrain from another song I enjoyed back in the day ends in "there's a bad moon on the rise", not, as I've always sung it, "there's a bathroom on the right."

Tuesday, April 26, 2016

WTMI, People, WTMI!

Facebook. I've never been on it. Neither was husband, until two days ago, when he decided that the only way to reconnect with old college friends was by doing the online tryst.

It turns out a retiree can spend half his day on there. Now I'm hearing shouts of "Susie just announced she had her kidney stone check!" and "Dan is going in for a colonoscopy!" and "Do you think I should friend Linda? Who is Linda? I don't remember her." Two of his new online friends had big crushes on him back in the day. Should I worry?

I'm escaping to the grocery store. Somebody, please shut down the internets while I'm out.

Monday, April 25, 2016

Raspberry Beret

I live in Princeland, er, Minnesota.

Good suggestions: Put Prince on the $20 bill, but make it a 19.99 note. Give Minnesota an official state color, all shades of purple.

Yep. That's the most important legislation ever drafted by State Senator Karin Housley. She says her favorite song is, by the way, "Raspberry Beret".

A slightly lavender Minnesotan can probably look past the sexual innuendo in that song, but it's hard to, ahem (warning, NSF children), swallow the urban dictionary entry.

If you are still reading, I'm saying, you betcha, purple fits Minnesota. Prince is just the icing. We already had purple Vikings. Our favorite noxious weed is the purple thistle. And, you've probably noticed that lips turn purple in the cold.

Tuesday, March 29, 2016

Moving on in, stolen garbage, and cart of the day

Did I forget to mention that we bought a place here? Just like everyone else, we came down and were amazed and overwhelmed, got into the lifestyle, purchased a home. On move in day, earlier this week, we put our garbage out, and it was promptly stolen by someone who thought we would be throwing out valuable stuff. The house was sold "turnkey", and the previous owner had items I didn't need. I took them to Goodwill for recycling.

Cart of the day pic below.

Sunday, March 13, 2016

Avoiding Notoriety

OK, I'm trying to keep a low profile here. I'm careful to position the car properly, you know, to color within the lines, so I don't get my picture in the Parking Hall of Shame.

Lots of older folk like to customize their carts and cars. This morning I parked next to this vehicle. If you look closely you'll see there's a handicapped hanger on the rearview mirror, behind the Spanish moss of swag hanging there. One can only deduce that the driver's disability is sight-related, due to the amount of visual impairment created by the car decor.