Blowing Smoke

             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.  

Still Loving Those Rocks

               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.

What Else Can I Throw Away?

 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?"

What Does This Say?

 Not only is the language in Spanish, but the handwriting seems to be providing an even bigger challenge.  

Is this why they stopped teaching cursive in schools?

Merry Christmas

 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.  

Coming to an End

 What Myrtle Creek summer fest would be complete without the blazing heat?

New Neighbors

               Since purchasing our home in Tri-City, we have had three sets of neighbors to our left.  Jane and Austin lived there for at least three years.  Not quite sure when they moved out (I’m guessing during a holiday excursion to Utah – perhaps even New York?) and Jane’s sister and brother-in-law moved in.  They fought a lot and I suspect moved out of marital problems – but I don’t know.  It’s not as if we had ever become bosom buddies with any of our neighbors.

          They moved in March and a new family – couple moved in this month.  They have two huge dogs who have barked at Bonnie though she tends to ignore them.  Oh, good for her.  I thought she would be the instigator.  Obviously male dogs.  The new home owner says he thinks that his dog has a crush on Bonnie.  That’s different.  That’s sweet.

          Thus far we like these next door neighbors the best of the three we’ve had.

NOT the Triple Digits

 

https://www.cbsnews.com/news/100-million-heat-warnings-dangerous-record-breaking-heatwave/

While I feel for a huge population in the nation right now, I feel quite blessed to have had my windows open allowing the cool air to come in.  That can be done from midnight to about 10:30 and then it starts warming up – but not to the triple digits – at least not thus far.  I really do feel bad for those who are currently experiencing extreme heat as I have been there before.

The weather has been really nice – although today may be the last day.  It looks overcast like the sky wants to rain.  I LOVE this temperature (60 degrees Fahrenheit) and wish it could just stay this way always.  I don’t even mind if the skies are grey if the weather will stay as it is. 

The only number I would like to see in the triple digits is a daily addition to my bank account.

My Laptop is a RELIC

               Doesn’t seem right to label something that is only five years old as an antique.  Our 20 year old Saturn moves quicker than the laptop does.  I plugged it in at 11:00 so that it would be ready to go by 1:30 – only forgot to turn it on so of course it wasn’t ready.  Even after I gave it another half hour.  What the hey? 

        When we put the keys in the ignition and twist to position the car is ready to go.  Even after sitting unused for a few weeks.  It will start.  It can be driven once that motor is running.  The laptop has to think every little step.  It takes longer to process than I do.  Jaime needs to take a laptop to school – but not that one.  A student doesn’t have the time to wait for something that is required right now!  What frustration!

        Modern Technology seems like such an awesome thing but it can also be a nuisance.  Sort of like finding employment for a decent wage that won’t all be spent on getting to and from – so really, what’s the point of working?  Perhaps that is how my laptop feels.

Why the Aliases?

 Mom had picked out four girl names long before she married.  She wanted to name her four girls Karen Kay, Kelly Jane, Kimberly Elizabeth and Kathy Lynn.  She did end up having four children – but only two girls.  I received the first name.  My mom and dad both have names that start with G and their eldest two have names that start with K. Third born was an S and I thought we should keep the pattern going – two G’s, two K’s and so my baby sister would have to have a name that started with S.  Instead of Kelly Jane we named her Shelly Jane.  She said she was happy of that as she doesn’t care for the name Kelly.

There were a few reasons that I decided to use alias names in my blog rather than actual names.  You can read about it in my very first post found here. After I started my blog I changed my sister’s name from Shelly to Kayla because I remembered she hadn’t liked the name Kelly.  Mostly I used a middle name, one that rhymed or started with the same first letter.  But not all of them rhyme or are similar in any way.  There’s usually a method to my madness – but not always.

 

One of my brothers was born on St. Patrick’s Day and a nurse at the hospital told mom that she should name him either Michael Patrick or Patrick Michael.  In my first COQ (Book of Complete Questions) post, I mentioned him –initially calling him by his real name but then I would use his alias and tried to correct the error.  I found it easier to continue calling him Patrick as that is what my fingers have been typing.

Steven had a blog in which he referred to himself as Cody which I changed to Corey in my blog.  But now he has another blog in which he uses his given name. You can find his old blog here and his current one here. Anyway since he started using his actual name, I did too.             

Steven and I share a lot in common aside blogging.  Don’t see either Patrick or Kayla posting their thoughts to a blog.  My sister-in-law Sunny should blog.  My niece Ellen did blog.  I don’t know if she still does.  I would guess not as she has little ones at home . . .

Though I use the middle names (or forms of the middle names) for my youngest two sons, my oldest does not have the middle name Biff.  He used to have an email with the fill handle of Buffguy.  Calling him Buff seemed weird, but I had heard the nickname Biff before and so changed it to that.

I have a nephew named Gary though I started out calling him Garret.  His brother I dubbed as BJ – meaning Bill Junior.  But Gary is the one who takes after his father in personality.  In real life the one that I dubbed as BJ was named after my mom but spells his name with a J rather than a G (see here).  I had originally called my mom “June” as it is the month of her birthday – but in recent posts I have assigned the names Gary and Gerrie to my parents as that is what their real names are.  For the most part I continue to use the aliases, but sometimes I have interchanged the names – especially with Jaime and Jenna or Richard and Roland. 

CBQ#205& 630

 

When you need to confront someone, would you rather communicate in person, on the phone, e-mail or letter? In what situation do you find yourself “walking on eggshells”?

     I would rather confront someone in person but is not always possible.  Often words aren’t read the way they are intended or said verbally. Recently I had (well still in the process) a confrontation with my oldest son who constantly gives off verbal vibes that he would like to take his life in a new direction. I know he isn’t happy about his current situation but only seems to TALK about change rather than ACTING upon changing.  He reads my advice in a different way than I am telling him – though I don’t imagine talking with him in person would help out our situation.  He doesn’t bother to follow any council that Richard and I have given him or will continue to give him.

He had said that he wanted to move to Oregon.  His wife believes that they can obtain housing in Eugene for only 900 a month.  I advised him to figure utilities and groceries and gave him the statistics that I have from our seven years of living here – plus to consider that Utah has much better health care for his daughter than might Oregon.  All the children hospitals are located in Portland which is a good 3-5 hours on the road. Gas isn’t cheap and housing is off the charts.  Because of my list of things to consider he believes that I don’t want him to come.

I’m okay with him living in Oregon – but not both of us living under the same roof for the duration.  I love him but I do get frustrated with his choices. It’s so much easier to deal with if we are not under the same roof.  Also our house is not designed for six people.  I don’t mind a visit – but it doesn’t appear he has made a lot of effort at getting out from where he’s at.

It’s not totally his fault that he can’t get ahead, but I know he could be wiser with money.  There is absolutely no reason on God’s green planet that he needs to pay over 200 dollars for a phone!  I didn’t pay that much when I had three lines!  What a crock!  Half of his bills is just in taxes for whatever oligopoly phone carrier he’s with.  Richard offered to buy a phone from another company which would require Biff to change his phone number but he won’t do it.  Thus he is without a phone.  That’s just one example.  There are so many more.

        He chose not to move to Oregon.  He and his wife moved in with their family and are now paying 500 rent.  Apparently the air is good for Ally who seems like a different child.  I suspect that his phone has been disconnected again as we have not heard from him, do not know how to get in touch with him, don’t even know what part of Florida he is in.  Meanwhile his mother-in-law from his first marriage is trying to get in touch with him and passing her frustrations onto me.  I can’t provide her with information that I don’t have.

Now is the Time to Sleep

 

              I don’t believe we’ve yet broken 100 degrees – though it feels like we came close today.  I am soooooo soooooo tired.  Until tonight, I have slept with the windows open.  Usually I can’t because of the temperature and the smoke.  How blessed we are right now.  The heat makes me feel so worn out. 

Game Lists

             Most of the games that I play on my kindle are word games.  There are two that will provide a list of four words and it is up to the player to figure out what the four words have in common.  One list that came up was

DEFEAT

LOSER

DISASTER

ZERO

Twelve letters appear at the bottom with seven spaces above.  I was to come up with a seven letter word using the letters below.  I came up with FAILURE and thought just because one is defeated does not make him/her a failure.  Just because one loses a game does not make him/her a zero. 

My next set of words was

PROSPEROUS

PROVIDENTIAL

LUCKY

GOOD

Once again I was given a choice from twelve letters to come up with an eight letter word which was

FORTUNATE

One set of words had such a negative vibe while the next list was positive.   Just thought it was interesting and thought I’d share.

Where Do We Draw the Line?

       

  Richard has been watching several reruns from the 70’s.  We were watching a “Quincy” with the topic of down syndrome and ignorance.  It reminded me a bit of the controversy of abortion.  My obstetrician had advised me (or maybe suggested) that I might want to consider an abortion given my age and the statistics that made it probable that I would be carrying a child with down syndrome. 

        I remember feeling resentment at the suggestion.  So what?  If my child had down syndrome he or she would still be a blessing to our family.  God entrusted the baby into my care and I would definitely care for him or her.  It wouldn’t have mattered.  I would have loved the child regardless.  We have been so blessed with Jaime who does not have down syndrome. 

        Regardless of their physical appearance or their ability to quickly process information, they are still human beings with feelings and purpose.  I rue the ignorance of others who won’t even try to understand or show compassion toward others regardless of circumstance.  Treat others in the same manner that you would like to be treated.

        The next Quincy that we watched featured an individual with schizophrenia who was institutionalized and had escaped the institution to return to the home of his family where he killed all family members except for his mom who wasn’t present.  He, of course, didn’t remember doing it.  It was another personality.  His lawyer was going to try and get him off “due to insanity” – really?  We’re going to free someone because of insanity?  Doesn’t every act of murder involve some degree of insanity?  And if that be the reason, wouldn’t that said individual be more of a threat?  People like that shouldn’t be set free! 

And yet, just as the down syndrome or kabuki syndrome individual, they are all children of God.  It’s not their fault they are mentally out there – but I would be in favor of aborting those who kill for the “sport” of it – those who have turned guns on innocent people in Chicago, Texas, Las Vegas, Sandy Hooks . . .  where does it end?  I am in Favor of aborting those that turn out like Hitler and Putan.  But how do you know?  How do you know when they haven’t been born yet? 

So where do we draw the line?  Who is it that decides who lives or dies? Or how our tax money is spent?  Why are we putting them in prison and spending money to feed them?  I mean the ones who have been caught in the act of crime – although I suppose most of those ended up turning the gun on themselves and now are having to answer on the other side.  I know that mental illness exists.  I have been hurt by people who on experimental medication – though not physically.  I wouldn’t want to kill or abort them because overall they are good people who feel and care and show compassion – when they are of sound mind to do so. 

I don’t wish to sound as though I am comparing the physical appearance, mentality, or syndromes to one another.  My intent is to express how each of us is human.  Each of us has some kind of challenge – though some challenges seem more obvious than others.  If we each have a soul, don’t we deserve to exist without others pointing fingers at us or making judgment calls (which I have done – obviously).  Where do we draw the line?

Orange and Flaming Red continues

        For those of my readers who are unfamiliar with baptisms for the dead, this site will be helpful information 

        I was asked to join a group of ward members to go down to Medford Temple with our newest member.  I had gone with the youth a few times but had never physically been in the font since I had lived in Utah.

        I had ridden in the car with our former RS president and our newest member.  On our way down the car encountered something – though none of us seemed to know what it was.  It felt like a pothole.  Our driver continued driving hoping to make it to the next exit.  Unfortunately the tire lost all air and he didn’t wish to continue driving on the rim.  We were a quarter of a mile from the rest area.

        Fortunately the tire was on the passenger’s side and he managed to remove the burnt mangled rubber that had once been a tire and replace it with a donut.  That is a few many miles to be driving on a donut!  But we made it to the temple when all the others arrived. 

        I hadn’t taken my “Wendy” hair into consideration as I entered the font.  It wasn’t until I removed a towel from around me that I saw large orange splotches and was mortified.  I had orange on my white clothes.  All the while my hair is dripping like carrot juice all over the floor.  Oh, gosh.  I remember only one time when my hair bled after I had colored it.  What was happening?  Ahhhhhhhh!

        This morning I took a shower and realized I had never added the conditioner to my hair after it had been dyed.  Perhaps if I had there would have not been the problem of bleeding out and becoming even more flaming red.

        When I exited the car (a different car than the one I had gone down in) Jaime was on the porch laughing.  I asked, “It’s my hair, isn’t it?”  YUP.  I’d take a picture, but the photo really doesn’t do it justice.

I’d Rather Have it Red Like Wendy’s than Wilma Flintstone’s Color

         The other day I went to the hair salon to get my hair cut and colored.  I had  made an appointment for 8:00 but had forgotten I had made it for that time and did not show up until 9:00.  I think the stylist was mad – which she had reason to be.  I was upset with myself – and here I’ve been taking this Prevagen (which by the way does not seem to be working; at two dollars a pill, I would think my mind would have cleared that first day). 

        She said she’d color my hair and reset the appointment for my haircut.  But it was the cut I needed more than the coloring. I had purchased only one bottle of hair coloring and was willing to try it by myself – but with less hair.  She agreed to cut me and commented on the thickness and length of my hair.  She then read the directions of the hair dye I had purchased and proceeded to get it ready to add to my head.  I was a bit concerned when the shaken up formula bore a strong resemblance to that of carrot juice.  I didn’t want my hair that color.

        I’m okay with my white hair – I really am.  I had it white the entire time I subbed at the school district but after the “Stay at Home” order was given, Richard and Jaime begged me to change the color and so I did.  I often use a different shade of red depending on what my choices are.  When living in small town America there are often limitations to one’s options of brand or selection.

        The dye did darken I’m happy to say – but still nowhere near the color on the box.  Instead of orange hair like Lucille Ball or Wilma Flintstone, it came out more of an unnatural red sort of resembling the Wendy’s icon.  That is what happened with my hair at the end of March, but instead of orange-turning-red, it came out purple-turned-maroon.  I think it was  supposed to be the same color in each case – though the picture on the box was closer to purple/maroon than it was to anything that resembled the color of flames.

        Yesterday morning all three of us went to the pool.  Richard had decided that he wanted to go to Costco right afterwards and so I packed my clothes (which I normally don’t do – I just wait until I return home to change) and had a problem removing my suit.  As I was getting dressed, I realized I had forgotten my pants and wrapped a towel around myself.  I presented Richard with a few choices: He could continue to Costco and I could wait in the car.  He could take me home and drop me off.  He could take me home and wait for me to change.  If, by chance, Vinny de Paul’s was open, he could stop off and purchase something he thought would fit.  The problem is he and Jaime never seem to put size into consideration.  She does know me better than Richard does and so I sent the both of them in and waited in the car.

        I was near enough the window that I saw them holding up items for purchase.  Apparently they both missed the expression on my face.  Richard held up a pair of red sweatpants (though darker than my hair) while Jaime held up a blue paisley-printed skirt.  It looked like something I would wear – but not with a printed tee that said “Barn in the USA”.  When they returned to the car, I told Richard he was not allowed to move the car until I had on said item.  I started with the pants which were not sweatpants but more like pajama bottoms.  They were marked 2X.  2X for who? 2X should be a size indicating you may be a little paunch around the middle.  Not a tall and somewhat thin person.  There is no way I was getting that thing over my gut.  I ended up wearing the skirt. I felt l looked ready to go to Walmart. 

       It didn’t look as terrible as I imagined.  (I am NOT a Trump supporter - though I have seen many that do seem to have that "Walmart" mentality;  I do kind of look like one of those) Not that anybody was looking.  My flaming hair received more stares than anything.  Richard and Jaime are the ones that have to look at it and both seem happy with it.  I don’t dislike it but I haven’t learned to love it either.  I am happy to have it all evenly distributed unlike I’ve been doing on my own (as I can’t see behind my head) and it does feel so much better.  So that’s a plus.

       

This is the Weather That Brought Us Here – If Only it Would Last

         I didn’t want to jinx things by saying something sooner but the news this morning said we can expect a warmer hot forecast next week. And surely by the end of the month.  After all what is a Myrtle Creek summer fest without scorching temperatures?

The weather and elements have awesome for about two or three weeks.  June had up and down temperatures but seemed quite pleasant for the most part.  Mornings are always cold and then it cools off at night.  I don’t even think it hit the 70s yesterday.  That was nice.  The rain isn’t so bad.  Better than the blazing sun.

I honestly don’t remember the low temperatures this late in the year.  When I looked at the map there were only seven fires in the entire state.  None up and down I5.  I wish it would stay that way.  I wish the dark skies would always be due to moisture and never smoke.  I wish to breathe in the clean air always.  I LOVE the current weather we’ve been given and wish it would continue to linger ALWAYS.