Fruity

Boud had asked for photos of my big Costco adventure but I got to replies after the fact. Since my life is rather narrow, as in a trip to Costco is an adventure, I saw this as I was getting ready for bed last night and knew it would make a fascinating blog post. Without further delay....fruit from the adventure! Tomatoes are, actually, a fruit, right? 

I have a lot of cut glass and crystal. Most of the cut glass was my grandma's. I decided a while ago that instead of collecting dust in a cabinet it may as well collect dust on the counter with fruit. So I load them up. 

I made a pot roast a few days ago, of which the leftovers became Wednesday's dinner. I don't like cooked carrots and Mark does, so he got the last of the potatoes and carrots. I opted for Brussels sprouts. Without the pot roast vegetables it doesn't look like much anything but some gravy covered meat. It was good all the same.

I've been spending time on the treadmill, just short slow walks throughout the day. I need to build up leg strength. I also have a pedal machine I haven't use for quite a while that I need to pull out. A few days ago I thought about the fact that I'm not getting any younger and if I want to be able to function as time goes on I had better take it seriously. So I'm trying. It's difficult for me to feel engaged at this time. Something many of us feel. But now is not the time to pull the blanket over the head. So.....that's that.

Power to the People

My deeply felt thank you to those who speak up. Not all have this talent but we do it in so many ways and it all matters.

https://youtu.be/fO-9JrPtj3Q?si=o2XLAqzFt0QzFIUt 

Carrying On

With the amount of absurdity swirling around those of us in the US, the schadenfreude of the few and the shock of everyone else, I have been busy trying to keep my sanity. What little remains. I've been doing a lot of baking and, of course, the general meal prep. Simple is so satisfying. Pan fried flounder. How simple and delicious on a cold Minnesota night.

Don't choke on your coffee, I will be leaving the walls of my own security to venture into the chaos of the world. I'm going to Costco. I feel like a world traveler.

 

Clippity-Clop

Mail Delivery

 

There are so many of the very old photos in the boxes with nothing written on back. I know that, except for a few clearly marked, they come from my maternal family. I didn't know any of these photos existed until my mother died, so I never had an opportunity to ask. I come from a fractured family. I barely knew my paternal side, never meeting some of my father's siblings. I knew my maternal grandma, thankfully, but any contact I'd had with anyone else ended when I was around ten.

I know personality disorders are difficult to understand. Believe me, I've heard it all, but folks -- they are real and not all that rare. There is no need to look farther than DC to see many and one in particular.

One thing I know for certain and have the evidence to prove it. My ancestors really liked their camera!

Ah, the Years

My mother had boxes and boxes of photos that I brought home when I was clearing out her house in 2020. I went through some of them but not all. These past few days I have been spending time looking through some. 

So......the passage of time: 

The back of this photo says I was six. My mother liked curly hair.

No age on this but I would guess maybe eight?

Again, no age. This is a little harder to guess. I would say from eleven to thirteen.

This photo I posted before to show the "don't mess with me" face I already had as a teen. I have a junior high yearbook that places me in ninth grade. I would have been fourteen at the time the photo was taken and fifteen a couple of months later.

This is my junior year in highschool. I was sixteen at the time of the photo and seventeen a couple of months later.

Looking at the expression on my face I think I understand why I never had a boyfriend during my school years. I may have scared them!

Doggie Memory

Howard B. Hound

 

He was a fellow of many talents.

 

Some won't be able to see this because it's on Threads. Even without the message I like the music. With the message I like it more.

I'm not going to be consistent with comments for awhile. My mental state is a wreck. I'm lousy company. My DIL is protesting whenever possible. They live in the city, in a diverse neighborhood, and she works in a government building in the city center. I'm proud of her and also concerned. We know it doesn't take much to end up facedown on the street or to be shot. Or murdered. The reality has hit.

https://www.threads.com/@skjervem/post/DT8XjfQDsbW?xmt=AQF04SpnZBjwvQdLWgKGpR4ZtWnvge4aMowF6tBGCyiVs8D0twXTmLBF1gtyi9Rvv-uxoWm1&slof=1

Democracy in Action

Minneapolis, Minnesota. Where my son lives. Where I have lived. Twenty minutes from where I now live. There has not been violence against these thugs. They perpetuate violence. They are met with chanting, yelling, swearing, anger. They are not met with violence. I fear the rise in what was already over-the-top aggression is going to lead to what the whole point of this seems to be. Someone is going to snap. Then we will see if democracy can stand.

And Again

 

                                

Cat Day

Tabby just finished a beer.

I don't allow cats on countertops. Mark thinks Tabs is different and should be allowed to be there if that's what he wants. I can relent, sometimes, so I try not to look, but of course I do. The compromises we make in life.