"It's Your Own Stupid Fault"

One time my friend, Linda, asked me what it was like to grow up in my family, that she often wondered how things went with 5 or 6 girls in the house at one time. My first answer was I remembered laughing. I do not think my sisters would answer the same way, but I will not let them influence my remembrances. Sometimes I will recall things which I laughed about and will laugh again. That is good stuff! 

One story I think about was having an organ in our living room where my two youngest sisters took their lessons. Not only was it a musical instrument, it had the capacity to record via a cassette recorder built into the equipment, and could also play cassette tapes. Their teacher would record some songs for the girls and at one time recorded a few Christmas songs as well. My grandmother, Lily, would often come home with us after church on Sundays and hang out. Her vision was not good (when I think of how long she lived like that, it makes me sad!) but I, being a teenager, loved to make her happy. One day I played the recording of "O, Holy Night" made by the teacher, and sat at the keyboard, simulated playing while I sang along. Grandma was so impressed with my skill!! As far as I know she never knew it wasn't me actually playing. 

Another funny event was a summer day when my parents were gone and we had the doors open for fresh air. I turned on the organ and put in the cassette of "Johnny B Goode" by Johnny Winter and just blasted it. We could hear it echoing off our neighbor's house!  All of a sudden I remembered that Grandma was taking a nap in one of the bedrooms. Oops! Immediately I shut that off and when she got up later on, I apologized for playing the music so loud earlier. She said, "That's okay, I just thought I was at Shady Lane..." which just killed us, trying imagine Johnny B Goode echoing in the halls of the old folks' home

But, what I tell Linda was the most fun, or most fun memory, for me was our meal time. As memories often go, I think of the time spent there as being joyful and a true delight. Even if it meant getting our hands smacked with the back of our dad's fork! He was so quick! I'm not sure my sisters remember things the same way I do, I might have different eyes and a more selective remembrance of those days. Fighting over doing the dishes? Yes! Who dries the fry pan--the washer or the person drying dishes? Why was that even a discussion? I guess because the dishtowel would get dirty from the cast iron pan. Somehow it was always an issue! 

One Sunday after lunch Lori and I were doing the dishes and we were singing and laughing. Mom's room was right off the kitchen and she was taking a rest, I think. She yelled to us to quiet down but just before she did, I had laughed so hard, singing a Bob Dylan song, that I threw up a little bit. It was mostly soda (yes, I had a problem in those days, too!) but that made us laugh all the more. I said, sounding pathetic, "Mom, I just threw up!" and she answered, "Well, it's your own stupid fault!" and we lost it yet again. To this day, this is one of our favorite shared expressions! 

Keep me in your rotation, please!

 There are 3 things in life that you need to accept for what they are.

1️⃣ If they wanted to, they would.

2️⃣ No response is a response.

3️⃣ Not everybody has the same values, goals, or heart that you do.

Once you come to terms with those three things, life becomes a lot easier.

This posting on Facebook recently struck me, literally and figurately. It had been a quiet weekend for a number of reasons. I was torn between going somewhere and staying in. When I saw this posting, I thought, "Yeah, what is up with that??!!" Often I go days without hearing from my family, except for Justin as he is a faithful communicator. After all, he learned from the best! The #1 point in the posting was quite a big owie for me to read, and admit that it was true. Ouch! Do people really just put up with me or are they simply waiting for my call? Are people pacing around their homes wondering when I am going to call? OR, do they think that perhaps I am simply too busy to bother? OR, do they see my name on their phone and cringe with dread, thinking, "Oh, boy! What excuse am I going to give her?" Oh, yes, I went there!

So often we/I reach out to people in one way or another and find out some are just not into it. They do not see the contact as being the conversation starter and will sometimes simply 'grunt' a response. Or, give none at all. Imagine doing that face to face--speaking to a person and have them act like no greeting was given or act as though they did not hear you. This might be the blessing or the curse of digital communication, the ability to tune out or simply ignore the contact. Many years ago my brother-in-law and his wife would tell me how badly they stink about keeping in touch. Being aware of that and yet not doing anything about it makes me scratch my head. This brings #2 to mind for our consideration. 

My mumsy would take to reminding me, usually in person, that "not everyone is like you, Kim!"  She wanted to reprimand me with that statement, because my expectations (we will talk more about that later!) were not being met. Usually my disappointment was directed to my sisters or those Mumsy and I had in common. I have since decided that her statement to me should be permanently etched on my grave marker, as profound as it was. #3 on the list is what made me think of that scolding/reminder. Not having the same heart for things as others, or theirs for mine, is often a problem. Sometimes we cannot get each other onto the same page no matter how hard we try. The way I think something should be done is not always the right way or the only way--a tough pill to swallow!

Now, to #4 which does not appear above was suggested by a friend on Facebook after I shared this list. Her comment brought up the word 'expectations', suggesting that expectations can be the death of joy. Boy, is that ever true. I have thought about that so often, thinking a situation would go one way but it goes entirely another direction. It pays no attention to our intention! Talk about soul crushing, in a figurative sense. Living lives of disappointment instead of excitement or delight. Give me delight any day! 

A short while ago I was talking with Justin about friends of his from the old days and he did not have current info on them. He explained it to me as being an example of object permanence, knowing that the ball is still there even though the blanket covers it. The reason he doesn't even think about his former housemates is, as he put it, "they are out of rotation". His world is different now, and those who used to be his focus and such are no longer. Things have changed. Google attributes some of this to being on the spectrum which is, in my opinion, a catch all. I told him that I was the opposite of that condition because my mind is usually recalling, sorting, picturing, remembering, reminiscing, and yes, reaching out to people who I wish to keep in my rotation.  Aren't you the lucky ones to live in my head, and my heart?

Across the Table Part 2

 

My courtyard in Santorini, Greece 

My friend, Carol, and I have been friends for a rather long time, knowing each other since we moved to FL in 1988. In the early 2000s is when we began having the heart to heart conversations together. We have been known to sit across the table from each other for four or even more hours. We were sure to tip well to make up for the time. Carol and I would often be dissolved in tears together as well as sharing laughs over life's events. Being church friends is for sure the tie that binds but now that Carol and Cliff changed churches, we have so much more to discuss. As I type this, I feel the strong urge to reach out to my friend for some time across the table again! 

Carol in my dining room at The Palace 

In another posting I have written about my friend, Deborah Bowman, who passed away in fall of September of 2021. My heart aches for her company. We met at the pool at The Club and became fast friends. We would talk and talk and talk there, and in area restaurants. She was a godly woman, had the most amazing zeal for the Lord and His work. Our conversations would be about her work, our lives, anything and everything requiring our discussion! Our favorite places to meet were at Tom & Betty's, sharing an order of funnel cake fries or at Saigon Wok, sometimes closing up the place. Gosh, I miss her! 

Fries were Deborah's Kryptonite, she claimed

Years ago I had a neighbor and friend, Kathy, who had a full plate caring for her elderly mom who lived in my building. When her mom went down for a nap, Kathy would often find her way to my door where we met at my table in the dinette. If Justin happened to be at home, I let him know that she was coming so he would not crash our party, as it were. Some things young men do not need hear, if you know what I mean. One time after I advised Justin that Kathy was on her way up he suggested I hang a sign on the door with my price on it, like the girl in the Peanuts commercial. The help, the ears, I offered was free, and a pleasure to share. Now Kathy and I get together less frequently but still I appreciate the time with her, across the table. 

Kathy and me at the Republican Women's Christmas party a few years ago, wearing our collars with jingle bells attached. 

Across the Table

                                         

This is 'my' courtyard in Santorini, Greece 

So often I think about the best times I have had in my life, my mature years, anyway, have been at a table. When making plans to visit Linda or be visited by her, I tell her how I look forward to being across the table from her. Yes, we sit in the family room together but it is not often for conversation. That time is more for viewing, as we share time watching a program we both enjoy. There is some chit chat but one must be careful to not miss a word of the show!  But when we venture out of our homes and into a restaurant, the best conversations take place across the table, between bites, and sometimes in the midst of a bite. 

Linda is not the only one with whom I speak, however. Just this past week I got a thoughtful note in the mail, yes, a handwritten note, from my friend, Joanne, expressing how much she enjoys talking to me. She has said this to me in the past, but after a recent meal at The Club, she felt compelled to write a card which shall be cherished!

Most people know who know me also know that I get at least one meal a day 'on the outside', usually lunch which sometimes provides my evening meal as well in the foam boxes. I joke about someday being buried in a foam to-go box, stamped Hefty. For the past year or so my friend, Emma, and I have sat across the table from each other on Monday mornings, for breakfast. We started meeting for breakfast when she finished her session with a personal trainer just down the street from Metro Diner. We had our usual servers and our usual orders, being regulars and long sitters. They were so wonderful to us there. 

When Emma had to discontinue the training, the decision was made to stay on Fleming Island and enjoy breakfast at a new restaurant in our neighborhood. They are very good to us there, as well, we having been there to eat even before their official opening! We are long sitters there, too, and a great way to begin our week. Other opportunities to share a meal across the table might occur during the week, but our Mondays are special to us. 

Linda and me having a good time in Two Rivers, WI

Prior to January of this year, you could count on finding Terri and me seated across the table from each other more than half the time during the week. Her employer wanted everyone to return to the office rather than working from home part-time, with her office now being in Mandarin. Well, that is not handy at all!  For more than a decade she worked either in Orange Park or, since Covid, from home, but now, ATT is totally cramping our style! That, and having our church in Orange Park close has really messed with our meal planning! Due to these changes in our routine, we try to make up for it on weekends, she often joining me at Tom & Betty's on Saturdays, my go-to place that day, and after church on Sundays. She brings her little granddaughter, Elena, with her to Sunday school and worship, and she just loves going to lunch afterward. She also sits across the table when we are together. 

Terri and me at Metro Diner, just before Hurricane Irma came 

Terri gets preference especially since she is a working lady and really needs a break. When Terri is not available, I have a list of folks who also like to share the table for lunch. No matter who it is that joins me for a meal, there is no shortage of things about which to talk. Some we can never discuss politics, and with others, this is our favorite discussion and we cannot wait to see one another to hash things over. Other ladies like to talk about their families and what is going on at home, trips they have taken, and so on. Most often we can discuss food! 

One day after I moved into my new home on Fleming Island, I saw the handyman, Rick, on my street. He flagged me down as I passed by so I stopped to speak with him. Rick asked me, "You like lunch, don't you?" and he already knew that was a silly question since I scheduled his work at my house around lunch! I said that I sure did, and he said there was a group of (hesitates a moment) old hags from the neighborhood who get together on Tuesday each week to have lunch, and he invited me to join them. Evidently Rick and Clinton, his helper, were also old hags. When time allows I do join them and very much enjoy getting to know people not only from my street but also other neighborhoods in our community. Since Terri is now so far away, I have two Tuesdays a month available to dine with the old hags in our community dining establishments. God bless the lady who is responsible for wrangling us all each week!

The conversations shared are to be cherished, as is the time spent together. One thing to keep in mind is that in a restaurant, we are not alone. They are not always conducive to private conversation. We do know some of those places which do give space and time for those type of visits. It has happened more than once with my friend, Christine, and me trying to get together for a lunch and we have been interrupted. Once we were at Pengrees in Orange Park, and several people came to our table to say 'hello' to me. At Pengrees, after the 3rd person stopped by, she announced that next time we are going to Bradford County to eat where no one will know me. Ha, you think so??

               Justin and me at a political event at Thrasher Horne   

Of course, my favorite person to be across the table from is my son, Justin. He and I are both talkers, but only one of us is a listener (ahem, ahem) so my ears get a work out when we are together. I have no problem with that. It just makes me appreciate what my other friends go through when dining with me! 

One of Justin's statements made to me as a child has became the standard for having such conversations. When told he should be quiet and go to sleep after being put to bed an hour before, his reply to me was, "But, Mama, I have words left over!" Yes, dear, we all do, and will share them across the table! 

What happened to my nightie??

Last night I got a fresh gown out of my drawer, my most recently purchased item for sleepwear. I had begun slowly disposing of those gowns which had seen better days and getting new ones to replace them. This particular gown caught my attention because it reminded me of something I wore as a teenager, a dashiki, actually owned by my sister, Lori.  When the gown arrived, I just put it on and wore a few nights before putting it in the laundry. 

Via rotation of no obvious fashion, this gown was next for me to wear. I slipped it on, and noticed it was a bit stubborn going down my body. What in the world happened??  Once I finally got it on, it fit like second skin! Oh my, that was flattering! I thought at first I should take it off and get a different one, but instead toughed it out. There was no difficulty in getting comfortable in my bed and it did not choke me to death, but it was certainly not as much fun to wear as it had been when brand new. The products reviews, read after this incident, suggest hanging to dry as the item might shrink. Yeah, that would have been good to know! I am trying to think of anyone who could use this gown, but I am fairly unique in my tastes and shape. Oh well....I could just slice it up the back like a hospital gown! 

What to do, what to do

 Sunday at church I had seen a gentleman I did not recognize but didn't get a chance to speak with him. On Thursday Steve came to Bible study. His wife and he recently moved to FL after retirement and now live next door to their daughter and her family, also members of our church. How nice is that?! Steve’s wife is visiting another daughter in MN while he gets things straightened away at the new house. We had a chance to chat before class and afterward, with me asking what he is doing to keep busy in these few weeks into retirement. He described it as still trying to find his way, said others have told him they are so active they wondered how they had time to work. Steve was not there yet! 

He used the analogy of having driven a long time on the freeway at 70 miles an hour and then coming to a sudden stop. That has to be jarring to the system. At least they had the task of packing up and moving from Holland, MI to FL and getting settled in. We at the table offered our suggestions including his being so handy and helpful with their granddaughter right next door, a Downs Syndrome child. He agreed about this. We also told how our vacancy pastor who is our former pastor spent his retirement taking care of the church property, doing whatever he could to maintain things in good order. Surely he will go back to doing that once the new pastor is installed. Plus he traveled to see his family in the upper Midwest periodically. I told Steve that he at least now has something special to do on Thursday mornings, joining us for Bible study. Hey, it’s a start!

The Ten Commandments for Seniors

 

Have you done enough?

Have you done enough? Have you seen enough? Enough what, and compared to whom? A recent list popped up on Facebook listing national monuments and landmarks in our nation where the readers were to indicate whether or not they have visited this place. Those which showed up on my page counted as many as 14 or as few as only five. Note, I used the word 'only' which could be construed as a criticism. I do not scoff at the few numbers of sites visited or seen, but feel badly for the person with such limited experiences. 

Some of the sites are the major landmarks like the Statue of Liberty, the Grand Canyon, Gateway Arch, the Washington Monument, those types of sites. Others are more like theme parks, recreation areas, natural landmarks like famous or grand rivers in the USA. It is entertaining to go through and click on the ones I have seen or visited, and a few caused me to look them up online to see what and where they are! A couple of the sites listed are here in my own state, the nation's oldest city, Disney World, and the Everglades State Park. Check, check, and check!

The list does not cause me to feel as though I missed anything, but, rather does allow me to appreciate the places I have been and things I have seen in my now 69 years. Actually I learned how to ski (chalk it up!) at Lake Tahoe and twice rode snowmobiles there. My former spouse and I drove up Pikes' Peak when on vacation in Colorado one year. Talk about nerve wracking! My son, Justin, and I have been to the top of the Empire State Building, perhaps not my first time, but I cannot remember if I had gone up there before our visit. With my sisters, Lynn and Lori, a trip to the Mall of America was enjoyed, which I considered too much a good thing. We ended up going to see a movie while the rest of our group shopped! One of the more significant sites was Arlington National Cemetery with my former spouse, son, and in-laws, Harv and Barb. 

Our nation provides many wonderful sites and places to visit and it is sad that some people never leave their home state or area, or have no desire to do so. Often times my wish was to go hang out at the beach, since moving to FL, that is, but my spouse did enjoy driving and exploring. In my closet are many reels of slides which hold the photos of our trips out west, most of which took place before we had children. For some people, looking at other people's pictures and hearing about their trips is sufficient to satisfy their wanderlust. For others, hour and hours in the car, sometimes without air conditioning, out west, is the way to go. That experience simply adds to the memory. 

Just so you know, I got to check off 22 places of the thirty-four listed, thanks be to God!

To be a friend...

 The highest honor of friendship isn't being invited to "that party" or out on a girls weekend.

It's not clinking champagne glasses at fancy brunches or wearing matching shirts on a beach in Florida. 

That all is nice and fun and good and special, but it's not what it's about, not at all.  

The real honor of friendship is being invited into someone's REAL.

It's getting an invitation into the nitty gritty, the not-so-pretty, the hard stuff, the vulnerable stuff, the weird stuff, the unpolished stuff.

It's being welcomed into a home where the sink is full of dishes and the laundry is covering the couch.

It's entering the places of heart ache and pain.

It's being invited to the hospital room when your friend is still in her mesh underwear from birth.

It's sitting crosslegged in old sweats on the floor and laughing till you cry.

It's carrying around secrets that you've been trusted to keep.

It's listening and hearing.

It's holding space for each other.

It's answering phone calls just to talk something through.

 

The highest honor of friendship isn't found in beautifully planned events or brightly filtered photos. 

The highest honor of friendship is messy and dingy and real.

It's in unfiltered photos of laughing so hard your double chin is showing.

It's loving each other's babies and holding each other while you ugly cry. 

I can't stress this enough:

If you've been invited into even one person's real, you are blessed.

Cherish it.

An end of year to-do list:

 

This is being a friend!

The highest honor of friendship isn't being invited to "that party" or out on a girls weekend.

It's not clinking champagne glasses at fancy brunches or wearing matching shirts on a beach in Florida.

That all is nice and fun and good and special, but it's not what it's about, not at all.

The real honor of friendship is being invited into someone's REAL.

It's getting an invitation into the nitty gritty, the not-so-pretty, the hard stuff, the vulnerable stuff, the weird stuff, the unpolished stuff.

It's being welcomed into a home where the sink is full of dishes and the laundry is covering the couch.

It's entering the places of heart ache and pain.

It's being invited to the hospital room when your friend is still in her mesh underwear from birth.

It's sitting cross-legged in old sweats on the floor and laughing till you cry.

It's carrying around secrets that you've been trusted to keep.

It's listening and hearing.

It's holding space for each other.

It's answering phone calls just to talk something through.

The highest honor of friendship isn't found in beautifully planned events or brightly filtered photos.

The highest honor of friendship is messy and dingy and real.

It's in unfiltered photos of laughing so hard your double chin is showing.

It's loving each other's babies and holding each other while you ugly cry.

I can't stress this enough:

If you've been invited into even one person's real, you are blessed.

Cherish it.

Author: @wonderoakbyjessjohnston

A new adventure!

The other day I was reading on Facebook (I am not afraid of it like some are!) and came upon an announcement for a restart of a writing group in Clay County. I replied to the post via email and informed them I would be there. Today was our first gathering! 

We met at the Orange Park Library in the meeting room, a nice group plus the moderator, Lou. We went around the room to introduce ourselves and explain what is our genre. Several of the younger people were science fiction writers or thrillers. Others were mystery. I was alone with the biography/memoir theme, but one man who leads a similar group to this one was a ghost writer for other people's biographies. How cool is that?!

We talked for almost two hours to establish our format, much of which Lou had already determined since he had been part of other writing groups in the past. We will meet monthly and Lou will arrange for speakers to address the group: editors, self-publishers, other services needed for writing a book. This is going to be exciting. I like meeting new people and look forward to spending time with these folks at least once a month, more if we hit it off as friends!

Years ago, I was part of a writer's group where each time we met we shared something we'd written and the others would critique it. We met in an area coffee shop, which is now a Moe's BBQ. Sometimes it was distracting because people would come in and out, not realizing what we were doing. On occasion I knew people and I had to quickly explain that we were having a meeting. This group was such a blessing for me, the answer to a prayer. It gave me a different thing to think about besides what was happening to my life. The man who led it was a magazine editor for his living and ran this group as a hobby. It was so enjoyable. When Richard moved away, we ceased meeting but it was great while it lasted. 

My friend, Christine, took interest in the group and attended a few times. She was a journal writer, another genre, usually not for publication, but was a writer nonetheless. We two ladies would attend a couple of Writer's Conferences which we held at The Beaches but have also faded away. Those were really good times! Loved staying at the hotel and mingling with others who loved to write, and some who even made money doing so.

Let's hope this group continues to grow and becomes like a family to our attendees. At least to me! 

Meeting my friend, Deborah

One day I was bobbing about in the pool at The Club and met this lady who was there with her daughter. As often happens, we began talking. I asked if they were new members, which they were, and found out where they lived on the property. It turned out the mom was a teacher and was going to be working at AMI-Kids in Green Cove Springs, a school I had never heard about before that day. The school is the boys' version of Pace for Girls, which I announced to my new friend and her daughter. They were well aware of Pace, the daughter having been a student of Pace years earlier in West Palm Beach, from where they moved. Cool! I was so interested to hear about the school and work Deborah would do there. How can I help?  

Michaela, her daughter, was still looking for work and I asked her in what type of job was she interested. She said she can cook, do housekeeping, retail, and a few other things, mainly looking for employment nearby. The ladies were a bit frustrated that nothing had panned out so far, and I asked, "Have you applied here?", gesturing toward The Club. "Where?", they asked, and I motioned again at The Club. The looks on their faces was priceless, so near and yet so far! We just laughed and laughed, and Michaela planned to go over and apply the next time they were open. (Spoiler--she got a job in the kitchen!) 

Well, Deborah and I really hit it off and became fast friends. We were almost exactly the same age, she being less than three months older than me.  She had a storied past, two children, this was her second career, and was sent here by God to work at the school. I do believe she was sent, because she was a true blessing to me! Deborah had extended degrees and yet she hung out with me. We spent a good deal of time together before school started. Some other friends and I helped her to gather some items needed for the students and their classrooms. Because they were high-risk students, there were limits to what they could have as far as school supplies, but many came from indigent backgrounds, badly in need of basic supplies such as socks, belts, underwear, snacks, etc. Much like the clothing give-aways done for Pace, AMI-Kids had not quite caught on that way yet. I knew many people on their Board so I could see the boys were in good hands, and were in Deborah's hands. 

Deborah also liked to cook. Once my doorbell rang and there she stood with a plate of homemade pasta sauce (she was Italian!) on spaghetti. Oh, my, was it delicious! I never minded having food brought to my door, especially if she made it! And, she often mentioned that French fries were her kryptonite, and no one better get in between Deborah and fries! 

When people came out to the pool and saw us together, more than one person asked if we were sisters. That was so complimentary to us both! Once, we each ordered similar, not quite matching, swimsuits from Amazon, without even conferring with each other. Deborah and I would spend hours talking with each other, eventually in a restaurant after pool season ended. We loved Tom & Betty's which was close to home for us both, and also Saigon Wok, which was on her drive home from school. We would close the place up on occasion! One particular conversation involved a potential change in her job, which would be less money but more up her alley to help the boys. Because she wanted the new role at the school, she needed to downsize her living situation, so, sadly, Deborah moved from The Club property. That did cramp our fun, but we made sure to keep up with each other, just not quite so easily. 

Deborah was deeply involved in her church. Here is a funny story from our very early on relationship: Deborah, being new to the area, asked me if I knew of a church she could go to. From our conversations up to this point, I knew a Lutheran church was not what she was looking for. I told her that I had gotten a flyer in the mail from a new "happy clappy church" but did not keep it.  She said that was what she was looking for!! I had to laugh about that, and fished the flyer from the trash. Deborah became integral in their women's ministry and even conducted Bible studies in the area jails for the ladies. I donated many suitable books for adding to the jails' libraries for their use, for which Deborah had asked. So glad to be able to help her in this way, even though it took our time when she was leading Bible study somewhere. That all got frozen when Covid hit. Later, that is what took my friend...I have more, for another time! 

Turning the page on the blog

 

I just love people! In 2005 I bought a condo in The Palace and began the process of fixing it up to suit our needs. Justin was still in high school, this move shortening our commute dramatically. After having wallpaper removed and walls repainted, some of the floors having laminate installed, we moved in in January 2006. We had to wait for our kitchen cabinets to be installed but otherwise friends helped us get settled in. It was then that I began meeting my neighbors in this 26 unit building on the St. Johns River. Justin and I also joined The Club Continental, a private club on the property where our building was located. There, too, we met many wonderful folks whom I never wish to forget. This blog will help me remember for a long time, I hope.

In August of 2021 I relocated from The Palace to Fleming Island Plantation, residing now in a shared villa. Quite an adjustment for me from my communal living of the last 15 years. This blog is now to help me remember the fine folks I met at The Palace, the stories of my life there, and those I met at The Club Continental, where I continue to hold membership. 

Airplane Stories

The other day I was digging through the papers which were removed from my desk in order to set up the new monitors and computers. There I found a card for a business at the Beaches from a man named Diondree.  His business involved art and design, interiors, and more. My conversation with him took place in the waiting area at the airport in Atlanta after he overheard me talking to Justin about my flight to JAX being delayed. It was my birthday, and Justin was going to pick me up and we were going out to eat to celebrate. Except, now we will not because of the flight delay. After I hung up with Justin, this very nice fellow came over and gave me his card, asking where I lived. I told him I lived in Orange Park and was returning from visiting family in WI for the holidays. I had hoped to be home in time to celebrate my birthday with my son. He said he heard me talking on the phone and felt badly that I would miss my special meal with my son. He handed me his card, saying after the New Year, I should come to his shop at the Beaches and he would give me a piece of artwork from his collection, to make up for missing my birthday dinner. How nice is that??!! Who else has had this happen to them while sitting the seats at the airport? It was so cool for me, and I hope he felt good about reaching out to me on my birthday. 

 I never did take advantage of his offer (I wonder if it is still good?) but what a lovely gesture from him to me, two strangers in the airport, and his sympathy for my situation. Awesome, just awesome!  As memory serves, Justin picked me up before midnight that night, and he had a burger on hand for me to eat in the car, my special birthday burger! 

Me with my watercolor painting displayed at Thrasher-Horne Center which later became a graduation gift to my niece, Alayna. The painting used only two colors-cerulean and alizeron crimson. A fun project, and I got juried into the show! 

What a Mess That Turned Out to Be!

As I am listening to the Clay and Buck Show, whose tagline is "With Time Slot on Loan From Rush", they are recounting some of the foolishness put in place for the virus the past couple of years. In some places, the restrictions are yet in place including on airplanes, where wearing face masks is still required. Many are hoping that restriction gets dialed back sooner rather than later, especially since the air on the planes is considered to be already well filtered. The airlines are ready to let go of it, too much time spent on enforcement, but the unions (again!) are the ones dragging their feet on it. Sure does make air travel that much more less enjoyable. Recently I ate at Cracker Barrel with Terri, and I noticed so many folks were yet wearing face masks. You would think that they would notice that hardly anyone else was sporting such coverings but some folks are of such a mind that the mask is a security device rather than beneficial to one's health. We have some older folks at church who continue to wear face masks, even in the pew, as they sit alone, in the front row. I asked the lady once what that was about and she said, "Oh, I guess we're just used to them..." Yup, I am sure that is what has happened to so many people. That didn't really take long, did it?

Sometimes I see people alone in the car, driving down the street, wearing a face mask. Now, are they so brainwashed by the press and faux medical reports that they are too scared to take them off? They are dependent on them, psychologically scared out of their wits of the virus. The media sure did a good job of freaking people out, and the leaders in the communities and even the churches backed up the fear invoked by those supposedly in the know. People were just so freaked out about being within 6', that magic number!, that folks would walk in front of moving cars on River Road to avoid passing too close to others walking along, outdoors. Oh, for heaven's sake!! First we did not need a face mask, it is of no use, later finding out that was a lie to prevent a run on the supply. Studies are showing now that the masks and all that other stuff was not as beneficial as we were lead to believe. Washing our hands for two minutes, while singing "Happy birthday" was another idea for practicing good handwashing when some thought the virus was shared on surfaces. "Don't touch your face!" "Keep your hands away from your eyes!" "Don't handle your mask!" It used to make me chuckle that restaurant workers would be wearing "sanitary" gloves while handling our food, dishes, napkins, etc. and then handling our credit cards and money! But, yes, please, wear the gloves!

Reading my Facebook Memories from 2020 it is noted that I still went to the store and would even shop for my neighbors if they did not wish to go out, at first seeing only an occasional mask and/or glove wearer. Such a false sense of security from the gloves, ridiculous! Anyway, I was and continue to be a serious user of hand sanitizer, having been on the receiving end of 1000 wrapped wipers back in 2015, from Justin! Our friend, OJ, was and is the same as me, so we were cool before everyone else. I am just neurotic, speaking for myself, not liking to handle the ketchup bottle or salt shakers in restaurants. People are used to me being that way. Also, I need to sit facing the door, though some in my group pooh pooh that desire of mine. 

My desire to go out, and interact with others, was stronger than my terror of the virus or of public scrutiny. My friends, Mo and Ro, joined me at the pool over at The Club most days during the lockdown, where we would sit at the tables after Mo would thoroughly scrub the chairs and table top with her sanitary Clorox wipes. She was being torn between being reasonable and scared out of her wits by their older daughter, who was a kindergarten teacher. Daughter was totally freaked (she is not a union member but reads their literature). Daughter would do the grocery shopping and leave it in the foyer or away from the main house to let the germs die before putting things away. So, it was total freak out on one hand and "let's go sit at the pool" on the other hand. 

Our WELS churches around here closed, my church closing for two months, out of concern for how it would look to the community if we continued to meet. I know it was a tough decision position to be in; it sure doesn't look good if a church that was preaching Fear Not! was alive with it! But, it was happening in communities that people would call the police if they saw too many cars parked at a certain place, even at people's homes!, as the mayor of Jacksonville put limits on how many could gather in one place at one time. Even at the grocery or other stores, no more than 50 people, including staff! Ridiculous, absolutely ridiculous. Anyway, back to church. Fortunately, Victory Lutheran had some systems already in place to broadcast via Facebook or the Internet so our pastor would go over there and he would share pastoral duties with their new pastor, Troy Schreiner. That poor guy really had a rough start here in Jacksonville between waiting a month to close on their home, having a hurricane brush by, and then preaching to an empty sanctuary! They would have an organist, sound person, and perhaps a couple others in the sanctuary and conduct a service which could be viewed live or later. Many other congregations were able to do the same type of thing so I got to watch services from all over the place, a silver lining to this situation! Lots of preaching in empty sanctuaries, reminded me of "Eleanor Rigby", by the Beatles!

                                        

                                 Terri and me on Easter Sunday, 2020, at church

Because our congregation was so small, it was not difficult for us to resume our in person worship just about two months after closing. We did get to partake of the Lord's Supper on two occasions during the shut down, once on Easter and again the following month. Pastor did a brief devotion for 9 people (only 10 people allowed in the room at a time then) and then offered us the Supper. The usual folks with whom I normally communed arranged to meet at that same time so we could attend together. Pastor would do this until he had to leave to join Pastor Schreiner over at Victory Lutheran for the worship broadcast. A church in our area, St. Peter (LCMS) where several of our members had joined, had such services every week, sometimes 19 times, until everyone who wished to attend and be served the Lord's Supper was taken care of.  For fear of transferring the virus on the hymnal pages, they were removed from the pews and ribbons separating the rows were put in place so we would sit only every other row. As Rush would say, symbolism over substance, but some people were so terrified about coming back that the leadership had to make it as "safe" a place as they could. As far as I was concerned, if a person was so scared, they should stay home. Like I said, it was a conundrum for the church leaders, fearing looking bad to the community or freaking out their members.

Our church also began a practice of video-streaming our service via Facebook, a practice continued to this day,  so those at home or away can watch LIVE services, or watch later. We eventually got our hymnals back though the practice of printing the entire service in the bulletin has now stuck and will continue.  Soon we will be updating our streaming abilities, more professionally done, as funds and time allow. There is movement to purchase the new hymnal and accompanying publications so we will be forced to get with the times. Hanging on for the dear life...

Love the Impromptu

Earlier today I let Linda know that I was going to be absent from our appointment to watch "The Five" tonight because of being invited to an art show opening at Santioni's Restaurant. I hate to leave Linda, cherish the time, but I had not spent time with my dear friend, Dee, the artist being shown, since last year! Just before the lockdown, Dee and Julia, former proprietors of Great Hang Ups Gallery, had met me for brunch at Just a Pinch on Fleming Island. It was going to be wonderful to see Dee and view her art show, with Jan Koss.  

                  

Some of Dee's artwork on display at Santioni's 

Friend, Mo, was not available to have lunch because of a dental appointment but she was free for dinner. I explained about the art show and suggested we have dinner while there. VERY early for me to eat, I reserved for us at 5:15, knowing that we would see the show and talk with enough people in an hour's time in the Amalfi Room at the restaurant. They were serving free pizza and wine but I brought my own soda, and Mo had some wine. It was just awesome to see my old friends from the Orange Park Art Guild, many of whom urged me to come back, even though I told them I was done with painting. 

One of the ladies I had mentored when I was involved in AGOP was there, and showed us some of her work which is permanently on display in the Amalfi Room. She did not really need a mentor! When the frame store closed, Julia went on to teach art, and many of my supplies went with her for use in the classroom. My time of painting had run its course and I was glad to share my supplies with those who could really use them. Sadly, Julia was not there last night, would have loved to see her again. 

Mo and I were seated in the main dining room at a cozy little table. She once more insisted on paying for my meal because of the assistance I am lending to Roland with his re-election efforts. Then, we got free dessert because Mo had asked for no cheese on her meal and it came with cheese anyway. The waitress felt badly even though the cheese peeled right off (who does not want cheese??). Mo had Key Lime Pie and I had a small styro cup of chocolate ice cream. We so enjoyed the time together, talking for hours, as is our practice! 

It was such a nice event and wonderful meal, Mo even knew a couple of people there, and met many more. At one point she told our hostess, Jan, that this was the first art reception that she had ever attended, and Jan told her to stick with "this girl" for many more firsts. Oh my!  I must really step up my game. Most assuredly I have lost a step in my older age here. As we drove home, Mo at the wheel, she said, "Don't you just love the impromptu things?" Yes, yes, I do!!!  God bless you, Mo!!! 

Trouble with the Ks

Sunday I had the privilege of attending a birthday party for my neighbor, Nancy L, who is celebrating her 90th year. It was my privilege to help her with the planning of this party, which was originally going to be managed by her daughters. She took control of the planning after some bickering broke out (naturally!) between the siblings. How much of that actually occurred requiring parental intervention versus Nancy's desire to be in charge, I do not know.  Anyway, my contribution was to go through Nancy's contact list for her to choose her guest list. I copied and pasted them into the body of an email to forward to her granddaughter-in-law who was taking care of the Evite. After we took care of that, we played a quick game of Scrabble which Nancy kindly allowed me to win, as my reward! 

As she already knew, I was going to be late because after church we had a Ladies' Group meeting which I needed to attend, as its President. Three times she asked me if I was coming, and three times I reminded her, and the Evite manager, that I was coming, but might be late. The time of the party was changed by an hour, due to the time change, which allowed me to arrive just as the plates were being served.  As I scanned the room for my seat, I was waved at by a friend, Terreca, and they took good care of me with a plate of food, a cup of ice (I brought my own soda!), and some tablewear to eat it with. Such nice folks at the table! 

I mention the Scrabble game because everyone had a name tag on, made from miniture Scrabble tiles!  One of Nancy's daughters came around and informed me that I had a name tag waiting for me at the entrance and went to get it for me. I was wearing my generic name tag that I keep in my purse. Jackie brought me the name tag and explained that they had trouble with the Ks as they fashioned the name tags, so they had to overwrite the labels used to make them. I remarked that it was like some of Nancy's Scrabble tiles, as she has replaced lost tiles using large buttons, with a letter and its value written on them. Fortunately it was not the Ks that needed replacement. It is difficult, impossible, to keep it a secret when you draw one of the button tiles, but she doesn't seem to care about that, so I try not to either. More than once I had offered to order replacement tiles for her, but she loves the buttons so I won't take away her fun from her. It is my hope that she continues to allow me to play with her, and occasionally allow me to win! She is one sharp cookie! 

Neighbors Kay, Nancy, and Jane at 

The Palace Book Club

How do you tell time?

Today as I was getting cleaned up and dressed in my bathroom closet area, I dried my hands on the dark grey towel hanging next to my sink. It occurred to me how old that towel is, having been purchased in the mid 1980's when my nephew Jamie was a baby! The color of the bathroom fixtures for that home were Kohler Warm Rose and Thunder Grey, and this hand towel remains from that period. The passing of time!

How weird that is to remember for which home a certain towel set was purchased! Having lived in many homes over the years, some things from each place do stand out. I have a couple striped hand towels remaining from the bathroom on the lower level in our lake house. The stripes coordinated with the striped bedskirt and valances, and yes, bedroom wall, in my adjoining bedroom. 

This late morning, Justin got out some more bins from the "Timmy" closet for me to go through. In one of them I found part of a set that hung in the kids Jack 'n Jack bathroom at The Preserve house, with a fish motif. It is presently in the washer with some other clothing items and a few stuffed animals. I was told the police dept. will accept the stuffed animals for taking with them on domestic calls when little ones are involved and need some extra comfort. Glad to share these from my kids with those who need some extra love. But the towel set stays, how else would I tell time?  

By the way, set your clocks ahead one hour when you go to bed on Saturday night! 

So, what's the story?

Any of you with siblings and parents know that each person has a different version of the same story. How does that happen? Often one of the storytellers will put a more negative spin on the incident being related while another person remembers it as being quite delightful. This came up recently when I was talking with my friend, Terri, about some family event and each one has a diffreent version of how things took place. 

Yesterday I was listening to an episode of "That's The Way I Heard It" by Mike Rowe.  When he was done with the playback, he went live on Zoom, talking with his elderly parents who live in Baltimore. Mike is relating chapters from a book he wrote and cannot get out to promote due to the pandemic (he lives in CA, need say nothing more) so he is using these programs to do so. Mike told a story about cutting down trees in their yard and neighboring woods to use in their wood burning stove. Well, that was a hoot!  Mike told the story one way in his book, and his dad, reluctantly, not to rain on his boy's parade, retold the story the way it really happened. And then Mom got into the fun and remembered the particular tree being in an entirely different place in their yard. For all we know, the tree cutting never took place, but he tells the story in so interesting a fashion that it would be okay if it was entirely a work of fiction! Three people, three different recollections of the same story...

On the news this week has been a high society story about the Royals who left the "life" of luxury in London and are airing their dirty laundry about the royal family.  It seemed like the more the interview went on with what many consider royalty in some circles, Oprah, the stories just got bigger and better, or worse, as the case might be. Of course, the royal family and the press all have other versions of the same story. 

It is distressing to me to have this much unnecessary coverage of this story while the Congress is passing an  horrendously expensive rescue bill (ha ha) and sinking our nation into incredible debt. All this spending is under the guise of helping the people suffering from the pandemic, but in reality, little actually is directed to the people. Typical pork barrel spending, and without much mainstream press attention.  The Royals are fiddling while Rome burns, in this case, the USA, as illegal immigrants are charging the southern border. Ask someone else about the story, and you will probably get a whole 'nother version of the outcome. By the way, gas was up to $2.85.9, a leap of 35 cents in less than a week. Send help!!!