Words

Every year since 1980, I have purchased the "365 Word-a-day Calendar". Some words, when I rip off the new day, I know. Some I'll never add to my vocabulary and some have found their way into my lingo. Some words have special meaning. I saved them. I found three when I was cleaning in the basement in preparation for a new washer.

Thankfully, I wrote on the page what happened so, when I cleaned years in the future, I could remember exactly why I saved that word from that date.

This was the last day Carole lived in Wheaton. Since this date, she's lived in Connecticut before moving to her current, and final, home in Virginia. We didn't have any kind of religious ceremony, but I do remember crying while sitting on the front steps watching her drive away knowing that this was a necessary part of raising a child. You give them wings and trust they paid attention to some of your instructions on how to use them.

Here are two more which also elicited tears. This word seemed particularly poignant on this date.

Penney was a gray cat we adopted in 1992, I believe. Kidney disease made her waste away and I finally couldn't stand watching her try to walk to the bathroom to get a drink of water. Pam drove me to the emergency vet my vet recommended and I said, "Goodbye". Even though it's one of the kindest things you can do when a beloved pet is suffering, it's still a heartbreak. That day, the world went haywire.

Finally, there is this word.

2007 didn't start out very positive.

Anne was my English pen-pal. We had known each other 35 years at this point. We were the best of friends and confidants. We went through first crushes, high school, college, engagements and marriages. My ex-husband and I flew to England in 1982, while I was pregnant, to attend Anne's wedding. We had children within a month of each other. She had twin girls. We went back in 1996 so our children could meet. She was with me when my marriage crumbled and when Carole and I were on our own. We went through the raising of children and their lives.

Then liver cancer struck. She was diagnosed in 2004 but seemed to have it beaten to the point that, in April of 2005, I met Anne, her husband, Graham, and son, James, at Walt Disney World for a week of fun. She looked so healthy. We had a fantastic time.

But the cancer returned in early 2006. She never told me how bad it was. Her Christmas letter was filled with news about the family. We always talked at New Year's. She would call me at the stroke of midnight and hold up the phone to the TV so I could hear Big Ben ringing in the new year from England. She did the same thing as 2006 turned to 2007. She never told me she had been in bed since 5 that evening and had to be helped up to call me at midnight. She wrote a short, one-page letter, "from the couch in the living room, by the fire" as they called the gas furnace, in early January. I never heard from her again.

One of her daughters called me the above evening to tell me she had passed in her sleep. Her husband, Graham, had contacted me at the end of January, after receiving my reply to her early January letter. He realized she had not told me, in an effort to spare me worrying, how sick she was and that hospice had been arranged. They were just waiting. I have to admit that every phone call from January 28th onward brought dread. In a way, it was kind of a relief knowing she was not suffering and not trying to keep the British "stiff upper lip" anymore. Graham said he never told her that I knew what was going on.

I looked at these words as I paged through a stack of papers, invitations, mementos which were on a shelf. At the time, it was important to save these. Now, I have reached the point where I can let them go and be, simply, words of the day. I don't save words that have a special event occurring on that date anymore. I unconsciously decided they were just words. I miss Carole. I miss Penney. I miss Anne. Time has moved on but the memories stay with me in my heart where they belong.

Beverage:  Dunkin' Donuts tea

Deb

Break Time

We are reaching an age where there won't be anyone alive who remembers when long-distance car travel did not consist of hopping on an Interstate. The Eisenhower Interstate System was authorized by Congress in 1956 and construction began shortly after.

I certainly don't remember a time when there wasn't an Interstate 80 running east west through Iowa. I do remember when Interstate 35 did not go all the way to Minnesota and when Interstate 355 in Chicago and 380 in Iowa did not exist. I remember the family vacation to Chicago where we drove on Interstate for the first time. What excitement! Four lanes of highway divided by a grassy median that was actually mowed. What a concept. There is no doubt that Interstates make travel much easier.

I realized, when I drove to Connecticut in November, that I have driven most of Interstate 80.

 

I lack the section east from the junction with I-87 at Morristown, New Jersey and from Reno, Nevada to the terminus in San Franscisco. It would be a neat goal to finish out those two sections, to say that I've driven the entire length of I-80. 

Along the way, I've seen the good and the bad of Interstate rest stops. Illinois rest stops rank at the bottom. There was no room to fan out along the side of the highway as the road snakes under Chicago, so they built a building over the expressway. In concept, it's cool. In practice, it's just a way to hand out deals to friends who "manage" the buildings. They are old and barely serviceable as rest stops. 

Another state with lousy rest stops is Indiana. From the outside, they look okay, but inside, at least the one we stopped at just inside the eastern state line, was not clean or welcoming. And the gas station, well, I blogged about that in another post. Won't take debit cards, in this day and age? Hello? 

I think Ohio has the best rest stops I've seen. 

 

Big, full-service, clean, they were a welcome stop for lunch and a snack as we journeyed across the state. I can see that the recession hits this building as much as it hits anywhere else. Less car/truck traffic translates into less profit for the merchants who have stores in the plaza. I would hope that the chains such as Burger King, where we got lunch on Wednesday, would see these franchises as providing good-will to the traveling public and not see them solely on whether they make x amount of profit or, indeed, any profit at all. It's gotta be hard because how much staff can you schedule when sales are totally on the whim of the traveling public. 

Mom and I were grateful for the nice facilities. I've done my share of trips where the bathroom at a service station was all you had or, you had to pull off on the side of a dirt road and hope no one passed by while you went behind a tree. Such events are the things of memories but I also like the good memories, of a clean, shiny rest area where services were available.

Beverage:  Scottish Blend tea

Deb

Home Again, After a Most Exquisite Trip

Yes, this is dark, but I'm posting it to say that my daughter is all done being married. As you know, she and David did a Justice of the Peace marriage back in October. That was the paper bit, the event dictated by the military in anticipation of new orders somewhere other than Groton, CT, orders that would move him but not her since she wasn't his spouse. 

Saturday, May 21st, 2011, was the perfect day for a flawless "official" wedding in Virginia. I drove my mother to the event. My driving was probably the only way grandma would have made the wedding and, although it was a two day drive and we are both tired of being in a car, having her at the ceremony was very important to Carole. 

We are home now. I am posting to let all my readers know we have been there and are back again. I uploaded 197 photos which will make for a lot of blog posts over the next few days. I met up with 5 of my guild members during the trip. The day of the wedding was perfect. The wedding was perfect. It was just fantastic. My girls are happy to see us. There have been lots of ear scratches. 

So, I am home. Thanks for the prayers offered. The world didn't end on May 21st, in fact, it's just beginning for Carole and David. 

Beverage:  English Breakfast Tea

Deb

YES! Time for a Dr Pepper to Celebrate

When you were growing up, did your dad ever make a big deal of the mileage numbers? My dad did. We'd be driving some place and he'd say, "Oh watch now! We're coming up on 12,345.6 miles." It was neat to see where we were, if we were close to some place where we could get a soda to celebrate whatever mileage number dad was watching.

I hit a milestone of my own last week.

 

That's a lot of miles. But, my Jeep and I have been to Williamsburg, Virginia; Niantic, Connecticut; and dozens of times to Iowa in the 10 years I've had this car. Yeah, it's an anniversary year for us, 10 whole years of driving a soft top stick-shift 1997 Jeep Wrangler with half-doors. I think about getting rid of it and it kind of bothers me. I like stick-shift. It makes me feel like I'm actively involved in the mechanics of driving. I love the soft top, as readers of this space should know. In September and October of 2004, I went 35 days without putting up the top. It did rain a couple times in those days but all I had to do was pull the top up and over, but not latch it. Once it dried, I folded it back down. 

We've seen a lot, this Jeep and I, but I have a possibility on another, newer car. As I age, the getting into and out of this Jeep and the mechanics of driving become less and less attractive. Plus, I need to have the steering dampener fixed and the front seat is split and it's rusting in small places. It might be time for a teenager or college student to take over. Jeeps are one of the few cars that are still being driven for years. There really is something about a Jeep. 

I happened to be near a Burger King when this mileage number came up so I stopped for a Dr Pepper. The only thing that would have made the event better would have been being able to take down the top. It was raining and 53. Not going topless in that kind of weather. 

Beverage:  Edinburgh's Finest tea

Deb

Snow-what?

Carole mentioned in an email to me that the section of Connecticut where she lives has had, so far this winter, nearly 50 inches of snow. They awoke to another 16-18 inches this morning which may mean they are approaching the 5 feet of snow mark. And to think it sort of "started" on Monday, November 8th when I was leaving to head back to Illinois after my visit.

This was wet stuff, almost half water.

Carole took this photo of their snow. This is to the left of my photo above. It was taken over the weekend, and doesn't reflect the latest dumping.

She uses some photo technique so this does look like a watercolor. The tree to the left in my photo is the tree to the right in hers.

It's snowing right now as I type this. We aren't to get dumped on as the NE US did, but it is a snowy January, snowier than most in recent years. As I was searching for photos of my sister, I came upon photos of another January 30 years ago. It was January, 1971, and this was the day after a blizzard.

This is the road that runs North South in front of the farm, which is off camera to the right. To the left is a gently rolling hill with nothing to stop a snowstorm coming out of the west northwest. The neighbor to the south of us had a front end loader on his tractor so he plowed his drive and then a single track down to us and plowed our drive.

I believe this is the storm that caused my mother to call one of the county commissioners and chew him out for not even attempting to plow our road up to us. We heard, from people to the north, that the plow made it to the farm on the other side of the visible woods, got into those woods and turned around because of deep snow. We were without power for three days, but we had ample supplies of wood for the furnace, and gas for the gas stove. Dad was working in Waukon at the time. He attempted to get home but turned back because the roads were impassible. The plow had opened the road within 24 hours of the snow ending but hadn't come back to finish the job to us and our neighbor.

Within 12 hours of her angry phone call, we heard the plow. It wasn't an easy job, to be sure. He had to dig the road open; he couldn't shove the snow to the side because there was no place for it. He was followed by a dump trunk that hauled the snow away. When they got to our neighbors, they carved a place to turn around and then worked at widening the road instead of pushing it all the way south to the main highway. They knew what they were up against. It would be 3 more days before the road was successfully opened to the highway, a 2 mile length from our house.

This is what the snow hill looked like across from the entry to our farm.

They had not shoved that bank up that high. This was the height of the drift coming off the hill. That's a 1968 Chevy van, the first year Chevy made passenger vans. That's my brother, Steve, standing on the top of the drift.

This wasn't the worst January snow that I remember. In 1968, out of the available 20 days for school, we had 7 and not all together. I can't find pictures of that snow. I didn't get my own camera until later so I don't know if we used mom's Brownie to take photos. I'll have to look at the photo dates to see if it was Christmas 1969 or 1970 when I took over family photographer.

So, as we battle feet of snow, I am reminded of the storm of 30 years ago. I think we missed only a week of school from this one. It's supposed to be in the 30's tomorrow. I haven't shoveled the snow from the last storm. I have to shovel both of them now. I printed the lyrics to my favorite snow song last year. It's playing in my head right now. I have a craving for pizza and a malted for supper tonight, and a good book and a couple of purring cats.

Beverage:  Edinburgh's Finest Tea

Deb

28 on the 28th

Today is Carole's "Golden Birthday". I didn't know about this moniker until I was talking with a friend this week. Your "Golden Birthday" is the day you and the date are the same number.

It's been quite a year for her. She got engaged in January, broke that off in March, moved from Seattle to Connecticut in May, promoted to supervisor of the jewelry department at the Penney's where she works in June and engaged and married in October. Today, she's spending the day at the Bills-Steelers football game in Buffalo where she and David have friends. That's a good way to spend your golden birthday, bundled up against the cold in Buffalo, New York. I forgot to ask, when I talked to her this morning, if she'd brought a hat. "You might find us, mom. We're in the end zone and I'll be wearing my red coat."

Happy birthday, sweetie. I hope year 28 isn't quite as stressful as year 27 was but I hope it's just as exciting.

Beverage: Orange Cranberry Juice

Deb

For the Comfort of the Cats, Naturally

On this overcast Sunday, one of the things I wanted to do was laundry. I am okay. I have enough clothing but it never hurts to do a load to stay on top of it. There is, however, a 17 pound impediment.

Since I returned from Connecticut and let her sleep on the clothes pulled from my suitcase, she's been doing that with the every day dirty clothes. I have a laundry chute and I usually toss everything down the chute. But I let a small pile develop and, the next thing I know, it's her nest. If St. Francis cut the arm off his robe so as not to disturb a sleeping cat, how can I toss all the clothes down the chute, except, of course, if I were to have someone pay me a visit?

I think some of this is because it has my scent on it and that is comforting. I think another part is that it's warm where the clothes are. That part of the floor is near the furnace and there are a number of pipes for heat running under this section. Another thing is that the pile is in my home office and this puts her close to me. She can monitor my comings and goings and she doesn't have to move. Whatever the cat reasoning is, it's fine with me. I know exactly where she is, can reach down and provide ear scratches when I go get more tea and she's happy.

Mija, on the other hand, prefers to sleep on my bathrobe. This is fine, until morning when I want to wear it. Well, I think I want to wear it. Maybe I can do without it.

Beverage: Lapsang Souchong tea

Deb

Payment on a bet.

Back in September, Iowa beat Penn State soundly. My son-in-law is a Penn State fan. He was warned that, in marrying my daughter, he was getting a mother-in-law who bets on the outcome of football AND basketball games. I never bet money. I bet food. When I was in Connecticut to visit, he paid up.

The mug you see has the face of the Cheshire cat from "Alice in Wonderland" by Lewis Carroll. When the mug was new, the cat was blue. You added a hot beverage to the mug and the cat disappeared, leaving only the smile. I have another mug just like this. I use it to hold the tea strainer for leaf tea. I'm thrilled. I now have one mug to drink out of and one mug that holds the loose tea I'm using to make tea.

What David didn't know is that the Cheshire cat holds a special significance for me. In order to get my BA in English, I had to write a senior paper. It had to be a minimum of 20 pages and cite at least 5 sources. Our last semester of college included "Senior Seminar", a class which looked at how to write a research paper as well as examined modes of literary criticism. I wrote my senior thesis on language in Lewis Carroll's "Alice Through the Lookingglass and What She Found There", which is the story's correct title.

Back then, we had to provide 5 copies in the library for English department staff and other English majors to read. You had to "defend" your paper from questions from the department staff. They did not shoot you what would be termed "low-ball" questions. They looked for flaws in your thesis. You had to say why you chose that topic and why you chose your sources. It was a nerve-wracking experience. Underclassmen were encouraged to read the papers and prepare questions so that's why you needed more than one copy in the library.

Usually, you took one copy to the copy department and paid to have your paper copied. I used carbon paper and typed all the copies I put in the library to be read. I remember a lot of late nights at the kitchen table pounding away on a manual typewriter. Somewhere in the basement is the finished product. I kind of miss that, the construction of a thesis, the research, the study, the crafting of the finished product.

Thank you David, for making good on the bet and for accidentally reminding me of a rather fun time in my life. Every time I drink from the mug, it will bring back warm memories.

Beverage: Lapsang Souchong tea

Deb

Happy birthday a month early.

Everyone who reads the blog knows a hair cut is way down on the list of things I'll spend my minuscule leftover funds on. As of October 30th, I had not had a haircut in over a year.

While spending some time with my dear friend, Tonia, she offered to pay for a haircut with her stylist as my birthday present. At first, I turned her down, but knowing that I was headed to Connecticut in a week made me accept. I was also worried that she went to a stylist who charged an arm, a week's pay and half your car payment to look at you disapprovingly and whisper loudly, "I'm sorry, Tonia, I can't do much." Tonia has gorgeous thick black hair I have long admired.

I really didn't know what I wanted done with it. That's also a part I hate about a cut. You sit down and the gal says, "So, what are we going to do with it?" I guess you pay for expertise so I shouldn't expect a $10 cut to come with suggestions, but I have no idea what to do. I wash it and let it go. I don't have time to spend moussing and blow drying. That's not what I want to do in the morning. Therefore, it's kind of a non-issue, not getting my hair cut. At least with long hair, I know what to do with it.

This is the length it was when I walked into the shop on Saturday, October 30th. It was a good 4 inches below my shoulders. I think the last time it was this long, I was probably 15 years younger. You can see, those last 4 inches are tan. That's all that remained of my February 2009 dye job, the last time I dyed my hair brown. That color refused to leech out.

I would wear my hair down and then, when I got home, put it up into a pony tail or simply pull it back. I used to have layers but those had pretty much given up being layers. I cut my own bangs and do a fairly decent job of it.

I discussed how I usually wear my hair and how I care for it. The gal listened and made suggestions. Then she washed it. "One thing you need to do is go to Sally Beauty Supply and ask for the 'gray hair shampoo'," she said. She showed me the shampoo she was using. It was royal purple, with a capital "p" and slightly iridescent. She said purple shampoo is formulated for gray hair to remove the yellow tinge that develops. It's got to be purple however. I immediately thought of the little old ladies who use bluing in their hair to remove unsightly colors. I made a quip about 'blue hair' and the gal rolled her eyes. "If you want blue hair, I'll give you blue hair but don't even think about that stuff you get in the color section."

So I sat down and watched, as best I can when my eyesight isn't very good. Without my glasses I can see shapes and colors but fine definition is completely lost. I just know that she was cutting off a lot of hair. It was falling over the cover-up and onto the floor. In the end, however, I got a fantastic cut.

You can see some tan still on the ends which will come off if I can afford another cut in, say, 6 months. The gray color just shone and my task this coming weekend is to find purple shampoo. I don't have to use it all the time, but every 2-3 weeks is optimum. She gave me layers that won't look crappy if I have to wait even another year between cuts.

The best part was it didn't cost Tonia a lot of money. In fact, she was less than the gal I used to go to. I have to drive 45 minutes to get to this shop and, until I develop a relationship, I would need to go with Tonia. But I certainly would drive here again if I knew I'd get the same thing or even something a little more daring. I can still pull the hair back if it gets annoying.

Has anyone noticed a difference? I work with guys. They might notice if I came in with it 2 inches long, but otherwise, no. Carole didn't see it long so she had no frame of reference for the shorter cut. It doesn't matter to me if anyone noticed. I noticed and I noticed that it's the best cut I've had in awhile. I'm happy with it. She also said I don't need to wash it daily. In fact, I can go a couple of days without washing it. I did last weekend and it still looked really good.

So, this was a fantastic birthday present for me and I am so grateful it could be done before I left for Carole's. I was messing with the hair over the weekend. If I tuck it here, blow dry it here and add just a bit of mousse, I get this dynamite curl that will look really nice at the office Christmas party in December. Remind me of that when I stand in front of the mirror and wonder what I'm going to do with my hair.

Beverage: Hot Cider tea

Deb

Bestest Breakfasts

While the image to the left may not be that appealing to you, I swear, it's heaven to me. My old regret is that I did not photograph Thursday's breakfast.

This, dear friends, is "Oatmeal a'la Perry". He makes it two ways, on the stove top or in the crock pot. He uses Quaker Steel-Cut. Then, depending upon whim, he will add dried fruit, nuts, almond milk, brown sugar or molasses. Cinnamon and nutmeg permeated the house on Thursday morning. What a warm and inviting smell to awaken to. And, knowing it was oatmeal made it even better. I actually didn't stop for lunch until about 1:30 p.m. on the way to Connecticut. Plus, this nourishing oatmeal, served up Tuesday morning, sustained me through the break down of the car. I had Altoids in my car and a little something from David and beer, but oatmeal kept me going.

Steel-cut oats are different from the stuff you buy with the Quaker name slapped on them.

In North America, oatmeal can be sold as steel-cut, Scottish, Irish, rolled oats, old-fashioned oatmeal and even oatmeal flour. Steel-cut oats are just that, the whole oat minced by steel knives. Steel-cut is also referred to as "Irish oatmeal". What we know as rolled oats is the grain steamed and then flattened by rollers. In some cases, this flattened piece is then cut. This is the more common oatmeal variant that people think of when they think "oatmeal". (source article here)

I prefer Scottish oats. I have mentioned before that I buy my oatmeal from Bob's Red Mill which is sold at Whole Foods. It produces a creamier texture because the oats are ground coarse rather than cut.

Any way you serve it, oatmeal is an exceptionally good way to start a day. I don't find those "add water" packages to be as rib-sticking. Plus, I think there's too much that's not good for you in those packages. I don't eat oatmeal during the week as the way I make it doesn't lend itself to quick breakfasts when you get out of bed late. It's still Cheerios. But, as winter approaches, you cannot beat oatmeal on a frosty weekend morning.

Thanks, Perry, for comfort and deliciousness.

Beverage: Water

Deb

It was not a cat-less vacation.

Lest you think I was "sans" cat for my week away, this was not the case. Stop number one and number three were in Youngstown, Ohio, where April and Perry live. They are allowed to maintain a home for the comfort and convenience of Clark (shown left) and Carly (shown right). Both are rescue cats. Clark is about 10 years old and Carly is about 3. Carly came last year after another cat they had, named Jenny, passed away.

Both are reasonably social cats. Carly has really soft fur and she's gray with flecks of tan. It reminded me of my late Penney. Clark is a lovely half striped half white with coarser fur but no fear about anyone new. He enjoys leaping into their games to find out what's going on on top of the table.

And then there is Faux. Faux is Carole's Maine Coon. When I got there and entered the house, he was looking at me from the entry to the basement. I said, "Hi Faux." and wonder of wonders, he came running. I am always amazed that I can be away from him for months, a year even, and he remembers me.

I slept on a mattress in the living room because I didn't fit on the sofa. It was warm and cozy and I slept like a rock. It also didn't hurt that I had a foot warmer. He loves that blanket. It's been in the family for years. Carole's original cat, Half-Pint, used it as her blanket. Faux has taken it over.

Whenever we returned from some place, we knew where to find Faux, curled up on the blanket. Carole quipped, "You want grandma (who?) to stay so you can sleep on the mattress on the blanket."

So, in addition to it being a delightful visit with my daughter and son-in-law, I had fun with Faux. I think any vacation is a success when there is a cat wanting ear scratches.

Beverage: water

Deb

There and back again.

As you can imagine, I own a large number of cat books. Some are cartoons, some are stories and some are "how-to care for" books. In several of the "how-to" books, a cat owner is reminded that cats prefer routine. Anything that upsets the routine they have come to enjoy, upsets them and that's when you get behavior problems. One of the things that upsets them is travel, your travel.

It is suggested that, a couple days before you leave, you put out a suitcase so they can see that you are planning something. Gradually fill it up over those two days. This will plant the idea that you are going somewhere. Supposedly, separation is lessened by doing this.

So, before I left for Connecticut, I plopped the suitcase on the floor in the living room. Pilchard took to it right away. Mija took her time but eventually decided to investigate. These girls haven't given me problems when I leave so I probably could skip this step. It ensured that when I got to Connecticut, Faux would want to smell my suitcase.

There was one "incident", if you can call it that. It makes for a great story. Pam arrived to feed them. I always give them kitty treats in the morning before work and in the evening after work. (Yes, they have me trained.) I left the packages on the kitchen table. Pam picked one up and heard something hitting the floor. She looked at the bag in hand and discovered someone had chewed through the bottom. I suspect it might be Mija but I have no proof. Since I've been home, both have been up on the kitchen table in violation of "house" rules. They do get down quickly when I tell them to.

I mentioned how I broke into tears when I picked Mija up last week upon returning home. She came when I called and was purring up a storm when I scooped her up for a cuddle. I enjoyed my visit and my trip, but I also enjoy coming home. I think most people would say that. The girls were happy to see me and I let them out onto the deck while I unpacked the car.

Now that she's figured out the deck railings, Pilchard enjoys walking along them or lying on them. Mija simply enjoys coming outside, sniffing the air, walking around the deck, sitting for a bit and then going back inside. Things are back to normal. Mija's taking turns with Pilchard sleeping on the ottoman. It's a case of whomever gets there first gets it. As I emptied my suitcase, just tossing things onto the floor, Pilchard claimed the pile as hers. Some things were clean. I did a load of wash Sunday night at Carole's. But it all got mixed together, thanks to a nesting cat.

One of the more amusing things about being gone is being "yelled" at by a big black cat. Once she realized I wasn't going anywhere, she took to following me around the house while meowing. If you don't own a pet, you'll probably think it's silly, but you can tell "tone" in a pet's vocalizations. In this case, Pilchard's voice was not happy. The meow was rather pointed. I am convinced she was yelling at me for leaving them. She has calmed down although once or twice a day I hear it. She will come into the office at night, sit down behind the office chair and meow. When I swivel to pet her, she will move out of reach and sit down. Cats have personalities and I'm being reminded that I irritated the big black cat.

On the other hand, both have been lap cats of late, as if to say, "If we spend some time cuddling in your lap, will you promise not to leave us again?" Well, I can't promise that. I can only promise that there will be ear scratches and cuddles and treats and the rare can of tuna.

Home is where the cats are.

Beverage: English Breakfast tea

Deb

You have what here?

Sunday, we were walking out to the car after church and Carole says to David, "I want Tim Hortons for lunch." I came to a dead stop. "Tim Hortons? Tim Hortons is here? In Connecticut?" David looked at me quizzically and shrugged, "Well, um, yeah. They are all over New England."

For those who don't know, Tim Hortons is a Canadian institution. They are akin to Dunkin' Donuts but with less donut selection and more items at lunch. They are famous for their soups and they offered soup before it was commonplace to do so.

I encountered Tim Hortons when I had a friend in Port Perry, Ontario, Canada. For 4 years, I would travel, twice a year, to visit Margaret. I knew I could stop at Tim Hortons and get good food at a good price. They also offered hot tea, something American places hadn't yet discovered.

So, I was thrilled to be headed to Tim Hortons for lunch. I got a good turkey and swiss deli sandwich. Carole had a sandwich and a nicely spiced pumpkin muffin. David had a bagel. We also got a dozen donuts.

We were intending to nosh on donuts later in the day but we decided to head off and be tourists so the donuts sat overnight. On Monday morning, I ate the triple chocolate donut and then realized I should have taken a photo of the whole box. A day later, they were a bit stale, but day-olds were something I lived on in college. The triple chocolate, a donut with chocolate frosting and filling and topped with mini-chocolate chips, was okay, but I had one of the sugar frosted and those were much better. On Sunday, I got a cup of hot tea that was as good as anything Starbucks could make and for 75% less cost.

As I sit here having had my Cheerios, I remember Tim Hortons. They compete with Dunkin' Donuts in the Northeast and I think I'd find myself at Tim's if he made it to the Chicagoland area.

Beverage: Irish Breakfast tea

Deb

Works like a dream.

Remember me mentioning I dropped my old digital camera? Thanks to Niles and newegg.com, this arrived in the mail on Tuesday afternoon before I left. I opened it up, looked it over and, there's no memory card. Um... Plus, the software enclosed is for Windoze. Double um... Oh well, I have a regular camera that shoots good old fashioned print photos. I have 4 rolls of film to use up. I'll just use that until I can get to Carole's and they can help me buy whatever card I need.

Carole and David snickered at my camera. They use Nikons exclusively and consider those the best cameras. My former camera was a Nikon. It was a good camera. But this was on sale and there were no Nikons in the same price range.

I asked about the memory card. "You can get a 4 gig card for $20," he says. "So how many photos does that hold?" I ask. "Oh around 3,000," he replies.

Now, if I was a serious photographer, that might be a good thing to get. But, I use my digital camera to document my life, my cats' antics, snow and rain, my friends and family, in short, not the serious kind of photography that Carole and David do. I do enter photos in the Farktography contests, you'll find them under "Gimmlette", but I shoot what I like. Three THOUSAND photos is way too many. David actually had a small card he wasn't using that holds 300 photos. That's more than enough for me. Possibly, had I had use of the camera on the way to Connecticut, I would have used up the 300 photos, but, as it was, I shot 271 and a few of those, now that I've uploaded them to my computer, are destined to be deleted.

This is a great camera for me. The downloading cable from my Nikon works with this camera. It takes a bit longer for the photos to upload but it's very easy to do. It fits in my purse and is palm-size. I kept it on the dashboard of the Jeep on the way home. When I get the photos from the trip up on Flickr, I'll provide a link. I like the quality and the camera is fast, in bright light as well as low light. It was easy to learn to use, too.

So, that was a good way to start the trip, with a camera that turns out to be a good fit for me. I'll be taking more photos now. I may need to stick some from my iPhoto libraries onto CDs to make room on my hard drive.

Beverage: Apple Cider tea

Deb

On the road

I confess I have not posted to the blog in some time. I've been gone.

On Wednesday, November 3rd, I left Wheaton and drove to Youngstown, Ohio where I stayed overnight with April and Perry. On Thursday, November 4th, I continued from Ohio to Connecticut and a visit with Carole.

The return trip started Monday, November 8th when I returned to April and Perry's. I drove from their house to the Indiana Ohio border where I had car trouble. I have finally returned today, Wednesday, November 10th. I had taken this day off anyway but it was to be a day to catch up on things. There will be a lot of posts upcoming as I took 271 photos with my digital camera and I have 2 rolls of print film to develop.

There will be more. I promise. I just need some down time.

Beverage: Irish Breakfast tea

Deb

At what point should I worry?

Carole called last night.

"Please don't be worried mom, but, if the hurricane is going to hit us, we're going to David's parents' in Virginia."

This is where Earl was at 9 a.m. this morning. I heard that hurricane watches have been posted for Massachusetts. Well, Connecticut is right below Massachusetts. If Earl goes straight north, the northeast will have a wee bit o' weather.

I have friends in Florida and in 2004, when Charly and Ivan and Jeanne wracked the state, I worried about them. I have worried about my daughter when December 2008 was one of the snowiest on record for the Seattle area. They don't know how to handle the amount of snow they got. I never thought I'd worry about a hurricane.

She knows I'm going to worry. She knows I'm going to watch this storm with more interest now and wonder how she's doing. No amount of "Please don't worry" stops a mother from worry. I have friends in North Carolina, in Virginia, in Maryland, in New Jersey and in Pennsylvania. I am concerned about them, but there is something different when it's your child.

Beverage: Huckleberry Tea

Deb