Confessions of a Grandma

Last week when I was visiting my daughter and grand kids, we saw a Minecraft ® shirt in JC Penney's.  It's a computer game that my grand son is currently into.  From what I can tell it is much like building something out of Lego® blocks except in the virtual world.  I am not really sure what is wrong with actual Legos, but I suppose that just shows my age. So the little man really, really, really wanted the shirt.  The problem was it was a men's size medium and way too big for a six-year-old.  What is a grandmother to do? Well, I got out a "print and iron" cotton sheet and took a picture off Google Images to make him a shirt.  I am probably going to go to jail for violating trade and copyright laws, but it made him very happy.

Honestly, what happened to the rest of the week?  This is quite distressing that time is going by so fast.  It was a week's school vacation around here.  Vacation weeks always went fast.  But wait a minute--I am retired.  Why should the fact that it is a "vacation" week affect me in any way?  That is not my life any more. April vacation was always the time I devoted to a thorough spring cleaning of the house and maybe, in a good year, a bit of yard work.  Mike and I did do some yard work this week, but the housework is lagging.  I don't have much to show for a week having gone by.  The dust bunnies are winning the battle this week Reading?  I was going through two and three books a week during the winter.  I am half way through Sweet Tooth and I have had it out from the library for two weeks now.  I can barely get through blog reading before I am distracted by something totally nonproductive. Exercise?  I count t...

A garden is all about patience and endurance. It is not a competition.  Well, I guess it certainly could be and probably is for some.  But my time working in the garden is for me.  Although, to be completely honest, it is hard to look at the photos of the Reeder gardens , and not feel twinges of envy.  Still, I know that their gardens are the result of long labors and loving, patient tending over the years.  Clearly, their gardens feed their souls. So I try to be patient with my fumbling efforts and my evolving gardening sense.  I know that this year I have a lot of work that needs to be put into the soil.  There will be no expansions, but what I have will take all of my available garden time and then some.  I will probably end up tearing out more than I plant this year, but that will be okay. The first task is clean up.  This border along the garage is pretty tired looking.  When the coreopsis and Shasta daisies are in bloom it...

Marvelous Muffins from Cooking Light. 1 cup all purpose flour 1 cup whole wheat flour 1 3/4 cup oat bran 3/4 cup brown sugar 1/3 cup non-fat powered milk 1/4 cup flaxseeds 4 teaspoons ground cinnamon 2 teaspoons baking soda 2 teaspoons baking powder 1/2 teaspoon salt 2 cups shredded carrots 2 cups chopped Granny Smith apples 1 cup raisins 1 cup fat-free milk 1/4 cup canola oil 2 teaspoons vanilla extract 3 large egg whites 1 orange, unpeeled and quartered Preheat the oven to 375°F.  Spray muffin tins with cooking spray. Combine dry ingredients (first 10) in large bowl and whisk together.  Add carrots, apple, and raisins. Combine milk, oil, vanilla, eggs, and orange in blender or food processor.  Process until smooth. Make a well in the center of the flour mixture and pour the milk mixture into it.  Stir just til moist. Spoon batter into muffin cups and bake in batches for 20 minutes.  Muffins should be brown and should spring back whe...

The first week we were home from Florida, I really felt at loose ends.  I had things to do around the house after more than three months away, but I didn’t feel energetic and I didn’t feel like I got much of anything worthwhile accomplished. After palm trees and sunshine, these scene from my front window does not inspire me.  My sister told me that the entire winter was this grey. This second week has been a bit better—at least for me.  Mike has been down with a stomach bug that he cannot seem to shake off for much of the time. I got back to the town library on Monday and Wednesday to do some of my volunteer tasks.  Also, the annual poetry workshop started there on Monday evening and our regular writers’ group met there on Tuesday evening.  So quite a bit of time spent at the library. I went to lunch with my friend Ginnie on Tuesday.  We went to the Cobblestone Café in Burlington.  The draw was that they serve handmade pierogis.  We eac...

I was visiting my daughter and grand kids so while I was aware of some of the developments in Boston,  I was having a blissful, play-filled, lovey time totally free of television images.  Well, we did watch Tom and Jerry and Tweety on the cartoon network Friday morning--that is like a cultural history lesson. It was I drove home Friday evening with NPR on the car radio that I caught up with the timeline of events that had unfolded in the night and through the day.  When I got home, the TV was on and the boat was being examined by a robot. Such intense police drama--and it was all real.  The technology that is available today is mind boggling.  At least for a moment, the people of the Boston area could breathe a sigh of relief.

Margaret of mag offleash  passed along the five book charge. I have been asked and so I ponder--five favorite books. Five.  Only five? Favorite?  No other categorization? Oh, and my brain has been so very muddled for the past  weeks.  This task demands some thinking. Thinking?  Oh, no.  My sister was recently taken aside by a  member of one of the book discussion groups she attends to be asked if she could not, please,  just read and enjoy (or not) the chosen books and kindly stop   thinking about them quite so much. Choosing five books.  A Sisyphean task indeed.  Perhaps pushing the rock up a mountain a few times will clear my head and set me free for other endeavors. Let me start at the beginning.  My reading life started early on.  So my first favorite is not a single book but an entire collection. #1 Favorite Book: Childcraft , an anthology of books for children published by the W...

  The North wind doth blow and we shall have snow, And what will poor robin do then, poor thing? He'll sit in a barn and keep himself warm and hide his head under his wing, poor thing.

It seems that a lot of people have been mentioning organization and getting things done.  I was reminded that I did a post on keeping myself organized and somewhat focused on what I need to accomplish some time ago. I friend asked me if I had yet restocked my kitchen.  I have not entirely.  “But do you keep a list of what you need to have on hand?” she asked.  Of course I do.  It is in a pocket folder that hangs on the refrigerator (usually on the side). It contains a grocery list based on the general aisles/categories in the supermarket, a basic pantry list of staples, a note pad to jot down things as I notice things getting low or as I plan meals, and a pencil.  And, yes, I have a duplicate folder for the house in Florida.

Oh what the heck is this?? While we were away someone broke into our house, washed all my jeans in really hot water and shrunk them down a size or two. Who would do such an evil thing??? I am demanding my money back from the neighbor who was supposedly watching the house. Google image. (But it might as well be me.)

Well we are certainly not in Florida any more.  I had to dig out my winter jacket, knit hat, and gloves this morning.  I was going to do a bit of yard work, but did not get very far.  I have been so tired and feeling blah in trying to recover from the trip home. Honestly, I think it would be better to take a slower trip and stop to sight-see along the way, but Mike is all about point A to point B.  I think it is because he had so much driving to do when he was working, and in that case time was money.  We are retired now.  We have friends and family we could visit along the way, but he says things like, "That would take us 80 miles out of our way." The house was pretty much as we had left it--except for all the dead cluster flies.  I had to vacuum before we unloaded the car.  ICK.  Also there was the typical wind damage.  I piece of trim was ripped off the shed and the chimney cap was blown off.  I held the ladder for Mike when ...

Poetry   by Marianne Moore I, too, dislike it: there are things that are important beyond all this fiddle. Reading it, however, with a perfect contempt for it, one discovers in it after all, a place for the genuine. Hands that can grasp, eyes that can dilate, hair that can rise if it must, these things are important not because a high-sounding interpretation can be put upon them but because they are useful. When they become so derivative as to become unintelligible, the same thing may be said for all of us, that we do not admire what we cannot understand: the bat holding on upside down or in quest of something to eat, elephants pushing, a wild horse taking a roll, a tireless wolf under a tree, the immovable critic twitching his skin like a horse that feels a flea, the base- ball fan, the statisticia...

Wow.  Yesterday was a stormy day!  Lightning and thunder storms rolling through right on through the night.  So I guess it was kind of a good thing since I was not wishing I was at the beach or out on my bike while I was cleaning and packing. We are just about ready for an early departure tomorrow morning (Saturday).  We are getting tired of the long drive and have been talking about getting a small car to leave down here.  Of course we are not crazy about air flights these days, but at least it is over within one day...usually. I am anxious to get back to see the grand kids.  The librarian where I volunteer has already asked me to come in on Tuesday.  I doubt that will happen since we won't be home until Monday afternoon, but it is nice to have something that makes me feel useful. I will miss our Florida life style though.  Life seems simpler here.  Among the things I will miss (in no particular order): 1.  Sunshine.  ...

Fire and Ice   by Robert Frost Some say the world will end in fire, Some say in ice. From what I've tasted of desire I hold with those who favor fire. But if it had to perish twice, I think I know enough of hate To know that for destruction ice Is also great And would suffice.

I wrote this poem in 2010 and posted it once before.  In light of my recent shoe obsession and the fact that April is National Poetry Month, I repeat it here. Shopping for School Shoes From the parking lot of Abernathy's-- where Dad waits, listening to the Red Sox, playing ersatz head coach and umpire both shouting over the static of the car radio-- Mom and I walk through the back door, right into the shoe department with its unctuous wooden panels and little altars lined with footwear, the air thick with the incense of leather. Mr. Adams, priest-like in his dark suit, cloud-white shirt and shiny black shoes, greets us, solemnly nodding his head. Quietly I sit beside my mother. The worn seat gives a soft whoosh and the chrome edge cools my shin. My yearning eyes take in penny loafers, white Keds sneakers, and -- Oh -- buttery soft slip-ons with ribbon bows. A fetish chosen, I bow my head in prayer... " Thou shalt not put false gods bef...

Being from Vermont, I am of course quite familiar with ugly shoes.   So, Margaret Finnegan , consider these.  I really want the fabulous prize. Birkenstocks are always a favorite, but it is cold in Vermont much of the time so socks are a must. Clogs are poplar, too.  Sometimes they are worn with socks as well, but you really get the full ugly effect by going without socks and without ever attending to the layers and layers of built up callousing on the heels. Vermont teens are tough.  They wear flop flops like everyone else... or Uggs or mukluks, depending on what would be considered most inappropriate.   And we certainly cannot forget barn boots:        In recent years, Crocs are more and more common.  They are especially attractive with the fuzzy lining.    I guess they should be considered more colorful clogs so the lack of foot care still applies.     This is what I mo...

Seriously???!!!??? The always charmingly amusing Margaret Finnegan  has posted about ugly shoes.  I would say that these qualify for that designation. Beyond that--poster child for ending violence against women?  This is surely kin to foot binding, when broken, folded up feet that hobbled women was the ideal.  A helpless women is a sexy woman?  Really, are there still those who believe that? ***   

It is national Poetry Month.     This is may letter to the World That never wrote to Me-- The simple news that Nature told-- With tender Majesty   Her message is committed To hands I cannot see-- For love of Her--Sweet--countrymen-- Judge tenderly--of Me   Emily Dickinson