"you shouldn't judge a book by its cover" - what lies beneath could bear an element of surprise
Have you ever thrown unread magazines away?
As I age, I find I like reading off a
touch screen in which I can control the size of the font. I have thrown away unread magazines (though not church magazines but AARP) and feel
bad that it hasn’t been
read. But I’m just not
focused enough.
What’s the story behind a time when you got locked out?
I have come up with more situations than
I care to admit. The first one I thought
about on Friday when Carolyn announced that she’d be ending the class ten minutes
early as the lifeguards have a meeting at 10:00 and would like to start on time
without having to wait for stragglers. When class was over, I strongly
suggested that Richard get out as it seems to take him longer to dress.
Carolyn announced to the group that they
were welcome to stay for five minutes before taking off. She started heading to the deep end while the
majority of the class headed towards the stairs at the shallow end and climbed
out. I then shared my first story with
her.
Story
#1
I don’t know how many years ago it was, but
my first “locked out” story is not
really about getting locked out but rather getting “locked in”. Normally I don’t change back into my clothes until after I return home, but there are occasions
when I change at the pool. Apparently I
had taken that opportunity one Friday just before the lifeguards had their
meeting. Or else I was just taking a
longer time in the bathroom or something.
Regardless I had gone to the front door to exit the facility, only the
door was locked. I had to go back
through the dressing room and knock on the window in the room where the lifeguards
met and interrupt their meeting.
Story
#2
When Jaime was a baby I had gone to the
store with her. I don’t know if I
loaded her or the groceries first – I’m thinking her. I had evidently laid my keys in her car seat
or had given them to her to play with.
Somehow I had locked her in the car.
I had my cell phone but not my keys.
I called Richard frantic as my child was inside a locked car – though the
windows had been rolled down a crack because I do remember a set of people
trying to help me with unlocking the door but just weren’t able to
reach the lock.
I would peek in Jaime’s direction
and smile at her. I didn’t want her to
sense how frantic I was. She thought I
was playing a game with her and smiled back.
I’m sure it felt
longer than it really was. Jaime was
fine but I was in panic mode. By the
time Richard showed up (with the entire troop no less) I was crying. We set the car seat aside scrimping to find
the keys. It wasn’t until after
one of her sisters physically removed Jaime from the car seat that keys were
discovered.
I do have more examples of locking
myself out of the house. But for the time being we will just stick with two
that I have provided.
When you’re alone at home, do you wear shoes, socks, slippers, or go barefoot?
Like my mom, I don’t care for
wearing shoes. There was a time when I
would always go barefoot if I had a choice.
With the last three yards I have lived in, going barefoot is NOT a wise
choice. Too many briars, thorns, and
tiny rocks that stick to footwear and often tracked into the house. Plus the more I age, the colder my feet
usually are.
I tried wearing slippers or slip-on
shoes that will keep my feet warm. I
like convenience. Chasing after Bonnie
(who usually is good at minding) isn’t practical with the footwear I
choose. Jaime has gone after her in bare
feet. Ouch!
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The skies have appeared blue the last couple of days. White clouds for the most part – though there was a large cloud of smoke billowing over the hills. Evidently it moved on its way though I don’t know where. One of the water fitness attendees comes from Winston. She said she almost did not attend this morning because of the smoke (I don’t know which fire) but it was clear in Myrtle Creek.
Carolyn had us work out in the deep
end as the wind continued to blow. It
made the class more spread out though there were only ten of us – five or six
less than usual. If all the regulars
were to turn out at the same time, there would probably be over 25 of us.
I once wrote a post about a sister who was addicted to family history (see here). She enthusiastically shared her passion with others and would strongly advice to look for primary sources about our ancestors and not rely so much on the secondary sources. So primary sources are like birth certificates, marriage certificates, death certificates, etc. A secondary source would be an obituary, announcement, burials, etc. I’m not sure where the census and public records fit in. Even the certificates that were recorded 100 plus years ago can and do get mistranslated (see here) not because of the language barrier but the ability to decipher the handwriting regardless of what language it is written. Also lot of misspells. It could be the same person. Maybe. Maybe not.
I’d gone into Ancestry the other
day. There was a red dot over my hints – not a green
leaf but a red dot. Apparently they
changed the appearance. The red dot told
me I had over 170 hints. Awwww . . . . I
don’t even
recognize more than half the names that appear.
Lot of census. I have had my own
name come up and tell me that I was in a resident in areas that I wasn’t – or else the
dates were wrong. What? Do I really need that information for people
I may or may not be related to? No. Not important. I decided I would weed out my “hints” by ignoring
or marking undecided. That way when I
really am curious about certain individuals I can go through whenever I get the
desire.
Family history is definitely time
consuming – just weeding
them out is time consuming. Richard has
been getting a taste of my frustration – though at a much larger degree. At least I have rare family names like Fish,
Gloppen, Dodds, Gullicksen and Purdie (to name a few). He’s got names
like Rivera y Cortijo, Landor y Martinez . . . might as well be Smith and
Young.
As my few readers can tell – I still don’t have the
passion. Sorry. Kudos to all of you that do. That is really awesome.
The swim fitness classes are two
dollars each although the pool offers a 20 day pass which saves 5 dollars. Each year I have gone I have gone through at
least two passes for myself. But I have
learned that each time I have purchased a pass for Jaime, she will stop
coming. Lately, I have been taking
Richard – though he was
not feeling well this morning. Class has
had the most consistent number count of any other year I have gone. It has been a nice workout.
Richard and I had gone to Medford on Thursday. As we got closer to the city I could see the mountains in the distance somewhat enveloped in a hazy whiteness. I asked Richard if it was smoke from the California fires. He thought it was. And yesterday I could sense the same sensation I had back in 2020 during the COVID fires – well, not that the fires were COVID related – the fires had pushed the topic of the pandemic into the back burner like it was no longer relevant,
I could see the orange beams spill
into my bedroom. Kind of eerie – especially when
the sun wasn’t even visible
to my eyes when I looked for it outside.
Or through the window rather.
Still too hot outside to want to open the door just for Bonnie to go out
and do her business. The skies are hazy,
but the hills are still visible. It
looks overcast but not. The air quality
is better than most summers –
but there is obviously a stench in the distance. It makes me sad for the thousands who have to
evacuate thus far. How many more?
Each year that we've been here we have heard the fireworks shoot off to mark the end of Summerfest. The skies are clear enough that the first time ever I was able to watch the fireworks from my bathroom window as I lay in bed. That was cool.
Rock is not her most favorite genre of music, but she LOVES the minerals that nature forms for her collection. My Aunt Eloise had given her a sack of rocks when Jaime was three. I know. That seems like an odd gift, but Jaime truly loved them and would spend hours sorting them by color, size, her favorites, and whatever other grouping she could think of.
After we had moved to West Valley Jaime had gone next door to assist the neighbor with some light chores and came home with a large jar full of rocks – which again she separated into piles. I remember taking several pictures of her enjoying her treasures which she had strewn across the couch. This is the only pic I can find and she's not in it
I did not ask her to pose for this
picture but took it as it triggers fond memories. Her love for rocks may not be exactly the
same. Now she likes to paint them and
hide them. She still treats them as
treasures. She will always love rocks.
Whenever I see a touchless garbage can I can't help but smile. It doesn't have so much to do with the can itself opening up - although that is pretty cool.
No, the memory that makes me smile is my first encounter with a touchless trash can was offered at Schlotzsky's then in Midvale Utah up by 1300 and Fort Union (no longer located in said area) and my four year old nephew who had walked by when a device invited him to throw away his trash.
Ben excitedly cleared the table returning for more and asking, "What else can I throw away?"
Not only is the language in Spanish, but the handwriting seems to be providing an even bigger challenge.
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Jaime always manages to miss whenever we go to the pool on July 25. Josh had always decorated for the first five years we had lived here but Sebastian did not. Today I was surprised to see some parts decorated.
