Posted on May 29, 2014
I have added a new challenge to my workout routine. As the title of this entry suggests, it’s jumping rope.
As a youngster, I loved jumping rope. In grade school my friends and I would jump for the entire fifteen minute recess. In college, I avoided gym classes for the entire four years but still jumped rope. I also jumped rope with my own children, impressing them that someone as “ancient” as I could still do “Down the M-I-S-S-I-S-S-I-P-P-I where the tug boats push.”
So I bought a jump rope recently, the kind you custom cut to your size since the right length is essential for skilled jumping. And now I bring it to the gym. The good news is that I still have the balance and ability to jump; the bad news is I can no longer do it for fifteen minutes.
But I’ll work up to it. Then I’ll find two people who will turn for me so I can tackle the Mississippi again.
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Posted on May 27, 2014
About three weeks ago I lamented the state of my lawn and flower beds and declared war on the moles that had moved in over the winter. I’m here to report they seem to have moved out after Michael and I launched a full-on attack. Of course the season is young, and while we feel victorious we will stay vigilant.
I’m beginning to think the harsh winter was a blessing after all. The yard was such a mess that we completely dug everything up and started over. Pulled out the dead boxwood shrubbery, turned over every inch of soil in the flower beds, and decided that maybe this year we’d use more containers for flowers so that we can continue to harass any visiting moles. We’ve worked for two days and everything is beginning to come together.
This is also the first summer I can remember where I wasn’t working, and digging in the dirt has become even more enjoyable. I always liked it; but in the past I usually forsook that pleasure for some client’s deadline. Now I have enough time to watch everything grow. And make sure the moles don’t get in the way.
See more 10 Minutes in category Flora/Fauna
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Posted on May 25, 2014
This morning my car was almost clipped as I sat at M-39 and Nickerson while the cars on the road to my right made their left hand turns in front of me. I’m sure if I stuck my hand out the window I could have touched the back end of more than one of them.
Perhaps it’s a new game: See how close you can come to the stopped vehicle when making a turn in front of it. Maybe it’s subliminal road rage. Or then again, it could just be bad driving.
When I took driver’s ed my instructor was very clear that when you turn – regardless of whether there are other cars around – you made a definite right angle and not something that look’s like part of a circle. And even though I took those lessons years ago, it seems to me the rule still applies.
See more 10 Minutes in category Annoyances
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Posted on May 16, 2014
I decided to do a writing prompt challenge; that’s where someone provides a scenario and the writer in you takes it and runs for five hundred words. The prompt was this:
“You’re walking to grab lunch when you see a crowd gathered around a building. You look up and see that someone is standing on the ledge, looking to jump. You hear a police officer close to you mention that the person is about to commit suicide. He also mentions the person’s name: and it’s someone you know! Write a scene where you attempt to stop the jumper from jumping.”
In about half an hour, I finished with eight words to spare and tried to submit my effort online as directed. But to no avail. I’ve studied this dilemma almost twenty-four hours and have decided that I’ll post my take on “Saving a Life” on this website under the heading “Potpourri.”
So click there for my latest endeavor.
See more 10 Minutes in category Writing
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Posted on May 14, 2014
When I was first married I asked my Italian mother-in-law for her marinara sauce recipe. I’d had it on more than one occasion and found it quite tasty; needless to say, my new husband thought it was delicious. So why wouldn’t I make it?
Nancy was most generous, not only with her sauce recipe, but also with some of her son’s other favorites; and I used her recipes long after he and I divorced.
The main ingredient was always tomato sauce. Hunt’s tomato sauce to be precise. Not Contadina. Not Classico. Not Prego. And back in that day, neither Paul Newman nor Emeril had invaded grocery shelves yet.
This past Christmas, my son – half-Italian – visited and offered to make his version of marinara sauce. It was nothing like his grandmother’s, but I found it just as tasty. It was also healthier, and I say this because Kevin is a vegetarian who reads labels. He uses tomato paste, which is nothing but reduced tomatoes, instead of sauce which often has salt and other items added. I’d never noticed before.
By the time the Christmas holiday was over, my pantry had a stock of generic tomato paste and my recipe box had a new approach to marinara. I actually found the paste version creamier. So I converted from sauce and didn’t even wonder if Nancy were shaking a finger from above.
See more 10 Minutes in category Changing Scene, Dining/Food
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Posted on May 11, 2014
It’s Mother’s Day, but I believe I’ve already blogged more than once about my aversion to this Hallmark holiday. So instead let me share something I noticed today.
My wedding ring won’t come off.
Not that I want to remove it permanently, but it’s snug; and I would like to give my finger some relief. So I used dish detergent and water to see if I could ease the ring past my knuckle. It worked. Then I eased it back on.
The thing is I have a penchant for beautiful rings and a collection of them that was fifty years in the making. How ironic it is that I’d already noticed many of them don’t fit over the knuckles on either hand. I’ve wondered what to do.
I can enjoy the rings in my jewelry box and remember how I came by them. I can give them away. Or I can have my favorite rings re-sized, but at sixty to one hundred dollars a pop (I’ve already priced this alternative.) it would mean only my favorite, favorite rings.
I suppose I could research the possibility of knuckle surgery; but neither WebMD, Google®, nor YouTube® offers much in the way of information. And coming on the heels of the death of my favorite jeweler (See May 6 entry), this knuckle issue could be the catalyst for selling my collection and saving only those rings that truly have the most sentimental value.
Mother’s Day has nothing to do with rings or knuckles; still, it is a reminder that this Mother is getting older and her hands are showing the wear of years.
Posted on May 8, 2014
The man who helps me with my flower gardens came yesterday to assess the damage of the long winter and make a plan. The damage is severe: moles have taken over the lawn and the flower beds. The bushes are brown and doubtful. The two hundred additional tulip bulbs we planted last fall are reduced to about a dozen blooms, mostly thanks to those destructive creatures.
I’d looked forward to a spectacular spring and summer, given the efforts we made at the end of last season. After yesterday’s meeting, I’m adjusting my expectations as our plan is more in line with retrenchment than enhancement.
First things first: Search and destroy moles (What good do they do anyway? I’m sure Google® could answer that, but I really don’t want to know.) Reclaim the lawn by dethatching, stomping on mole hills, adding grass seed to bare spots, and finding flower bed edges that have disappeared under creeping grass.
Tear up the annual flower beds to destroy mole runs. Try not to disturb the perennial beds. Except for the tulips. I’m afraid they’re a lost cause. But my other perennials are of hardy stock: daisies, black eyed Susans, and two gorgeous clematises that survived both the winter and the moles.
Power wash the indoor-outdoor carpet and clean the patio furniture. Maybe use teak oil. Replace the candle holder and candle we should have brought inside last October. It was reduced to crushed clay. Then see what’s going on before we decide what to plant this year.
We’ve got a little less than three weeks before Memorial Day, the traditional time to plant flowers around here. And we’ve got our work cut out. Moles, beware!
See more 10 Minutes in category Annoyances, Flora/Fauna
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Posted on May 6, 2014
I visited The Natural Gem, my favorite jewelry store, this morning to ask about getting some rings sized. Nancy and Melissa were there; but the golden retrievers, Logan and Newman, weren’t. Chuck wasn’t there either. Could he be walking them?
I didn’t ask, because something felt amiss. Got the answer to my ring question and moved on to the next errand. But when I returned home, I Googled® Chuck’s full name. That’s when I learned the owner of The Natural Gem had passed away in January.
Our relationship started about eight years ago when I brought a yellow diamond to him for an appraisal. I already had a jeweler I fancied, but when I saw the various gems and settings in his shop I was hooked. Most of them were Chuck’s own creations; and since he and I liked the same kind of jewelry – delicate settings, often solitaires, unusual stones, none synthetic — I became a frequent customer.
How glad I am now that I own an African garnet Chuck cut from a rough piece of gemstone for me. And a pink sapphire ring. And an imperial topaz. Dangly ruby earrings. The spinel pendant and the tourmalines.
Most of what I know about natural gemstones I learned from Chuck Brinkman, because with each purchase he shared his extensive knowledge of them. Even when I purchased an item elsewhere – like the rings I bought last fall on a cruise – he could tell me more about the stones and their origins, their unique qualities and rareness, than the original salesperson. He made each purchase of mine more special.
I don’t think buying jewelry will hold as much interest anymore.
See more 10 Minutes in category Changing Scene
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Posted on May 2, 2014
Today the postal person dropped a box on my doorstep. It was my most recent order from Bas Bleu, the little book company I dearly love. You want quirky? It has quirky. Google® it for confirmation.
The latest order included the candles for my upcoming June birthday. I’m beyond the age where you can fit all the required number of candles on a single cake, much less blow them out in one breath. (Unless it’s a giant sheet cake and you have minions to help.) So I got a set of Roman numerals. For this pending birthday, we need only three candles: LXX.
I also ordered a copy of 70 Things to Do When You Turn 70. The book is a collection of advice from such contributors as Judith Viorst, May Sarton, and Mark Twain. It’s not that I need ideas, but I thought I’d see what others were up to at this age.
Finally, the USPS package held The Naturally Clean Home with 150 super easy herbal formulas for green cleaning and Death Poems with my nominee for the longest subtitle: Classic, Contemporary, Witty, Serious, Tear-Jerking, Wise, Profound, Angry, Funny, Spiritual, Atheistic, Uncertain, Personal, Political, Mythic, Earthy, and Only Occasionally Morbid.
I’ve planned to give the former book to my cleaning lady and the latter to my son, whose dream is to be Poet Laureate of the country. I just need to make sure I don’t mix them up. Or substitute the seventy things to do on turning seventy.
Ah, life’s a challenge.
See more 10 Minutes in category Changing Scene, Me/Family
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