Losing it??

When I was studying nursing we were told that one of the dangers of studying diseases was the ease with which you could talk yourself into convincing you had the disease you were studying. It was true. When we studied heart disease I developed all the classic symptoms of a heart attack. Gall bladder attack??? I had that for sure. Encephalitis and kidney stones struck me down several times. Somewhere in there was an infestation of tape worms. When we studied mental illness I was sure I was losing my mind. The only thing I was safe from were prostate issues and pregnancy.

I have just finished reading a book called Still Alice. A very good book about a 49 year old woman who develops early onset alzhleimer's. The story is told from the point of view of the patient. One of her early tell-tale signs is when she is going on her daily run using the route she has taken every day for years. She gets to Harvard Square and suddenly can't remember which way to go. She can't remember where she is or how to get home. So......you guessed it. Every failed name retrieval, each word that didn't come out right, every event that someone else remembered that I had no recollection of, every wrong turn I made in the car on a route that I knew well............a sure sign that my mind was being given over to that dread disease. And Friday, well Friday I was sure that the bell was finally tolling for me.

Every day for years I have gone out for bus duty at the end of the day. On Friday afternoon I looked at the clock. 1:47 pm. Only one more minute until the final bell and bus duty. I quickly grabbed my coat, wrapped my scarf around my neck, pulled on my mittens and covered my ears with my ear muffs. As I left the library I heard the teacher say to her class who were working on the computers in the library, "You only have five more minutes, class, so you need to finish up." "Five more minutes?" I thought. "Boy, is SHE going to be surprised when that bell rings in 30 seconds". I scurried across the hall to the main office. All bundled up for the cold and wind outside I ran into the office and grabbed my walkie talkie and turned to go outside. Hmmmmm. Where were the kids? Why was it so quiet? They are usually so noisy at dismissal with their hugs and "love you's" . Where was the bell? Why are the few students who are sitting in the office looking at me as if I don't belong there? I look at the clock. 1:48..........that's right. Dismissal time. Look at it again......1:48?? And again.......1:48. 1:48?? Wait wait wait......whoa......back up the truck. WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?? Dismissal is 2:48. I am a whole hour early. WHAT AM I DOING OUT HERE???

Slowly I turned around and bent to the floor as low as I could (aren't you less noticable that way?) and slunk back to the table to gently and nonchalantly put my walkie talkie back in it's charger. And I slowly and nonchalantly tried to make my way back through the office and across the hall, all the time looking like the cat that swallowed the canary.

If only I hadn't read that darn book.

Thanksgiving come and gone.........too quickly.

Thanksgiving. When I was little it was all about Indians and pilgrims and dressing up as a pilgrim lady in the school play. The school play where the buttons popped on my skirt and I had to make an emergency scamper to front center stage so my teacher could pin me back together again before something even more embarrassing ensued. Thanksgiving was making turkey pictures out of your hand print. It was driving to my aunts every year for a before dinner "cocktail" of tomato juice, followed by turkey and creamed onions and potatoes with gravy and mince meat pie and pulling on the wishbone and then sharing "conundrums" that they had placed at each plate.

The thing I didn't realize when I was that small is that Thanksgiving is mostly about family; family being together. With a few exceptions I have hosted Thanksgiving at my home for the past 32 years. Sometimes we have had just a sampling of the family present. Sometimes we have had over 20. Big or small, I have always enjoyed lighting my fireplaces and sharing my home with my large family.

This fall when my brother put an all-call out asking who would like to host Thanksgiving I put up my hand. And so did Kara. Even more eagerly than I did. As things turned out neither my house nor Kara's was the ideal travel destination for many of the family. Part of the family decided to stay in upper New York state and the Cortesi's decided to stay in New England.

Kara really wanted to host and who was I to argue. To be free of cooking for one year?? And cleaning?? Wow! Who could resist? So it was off to Kara's house we went. Brett and Megan and the twins were there. Sean's cousin joined us to represent the Madden side of the family. The only empty spot was for Damon who couldn't fly out from Seattle. :((


Megan brought the turkey......the BIG turkey, which was cooked to a perfect loveliness.

Brett cooked his asparagus specialty, which ended up being a little bit of a smoked specialty. But no harm done. It added to the flavor.


The Thanksgiving table was set. There was food galore. Kara's made crock-pot stuffing. It was probably the tastiest, moistest stuffing I have ever had. She outdid herself and made delicious sweet potatoes topped with roasted pecans. Sean's cousin made an outstanding cranberry sauce with pomegranates that gave it a great little "pop". Kind of like those pop rocks of old. And there were potatoes and beans and salad and pie and peanut-butter chocolate bars and more stuff than my plate or stomach could hold.

Even better than the eating part is the sitting around the table part with the people who know you the best and who you feel the most comfortable with. It's the sharing of stories from times past and hearing the children tell their new stories. It's the laughing and, yes, sometimes the crying. :((


After dinner we waddled into the living room to beach ourselves in front of the fireplace, which is probably why Thanksgiving is in November. Your could never share the pleasure of fireplace lounging in July.

We laughed. We talked. We listened to piano concerts from Eamon and Elizabeth and clapped our hands and "hoorayed" for them.


The day was over too soon too fast. The best part of the day was spending it with my children and their families and being thankful that I have such beautiful healthy children to share my day with.

I only wish our missing link had been there to make it complete. Next year, Damon!!!
(those who don't come get pictures like this posted!)

Late birthday wishes to a special sister

Once I was an only child. For a short 15 months. I don't remember what it was like to be the only one.


My mother always wanted me to have a "little friend" to play with so when I was 15 months old I was presented with a little sister. Living on a farm in the country with few close neighbors we were each other's constant companion and playmate. There were the usual sisterly bickerings and the imaginary line drawn down the middle of the room we shared which neither was allowed to cross over. But mostly we were together and playing from morning to night.


Being so close in age we often dressed alike........and almost looked like twins.



Everything we did was done as one. We went sliding together.



We splashed around in the bird bath together.


We did a little help around the barn and fed the cows.........together.

When we got into our teen years she became the proverbial little sister tease. When my steady boy-friend came to pick me up shortly after we began dating she dressed up in "old" clothes, powdered her hair and face white and even smeared white Desitin on her lips. She set up a rocking chair outside, plopped herself down in it and had my mother introduce her to my boyfriend as my "grandmother". He was oh-so-very-serious as he put out his hand to shake hers with a polite "nice to meet you". She soon broke into a hysterical fit of giggles and revealed her scam.

When I went off to college in West Virginia my little sister followed me the next year.


We even had babies together. How about those cool striped slacks. Did I really wear those? I see little sister drew a line there when it came to dressing like me.

Even though we are so close in years we are different. She likes to cook. I hate it. She can make 20 meals to freeze from the left-over Thanksgiving turkey. I make soup. She's very organized, puts her spices in alphabetical order and saves EVERYTHING. I am less than organized, put my spices wherever they happen to land and like to throw things out. When we were little she liked to go to bed early and wake up early. I liked to go to bed late and sleep in. She can remember the names of everything she plants. I know things only as "that pretty pink plant"or "that really big hosta". She likes to watch football. I don't understand what is going on in the game.

She is not a procrastinator. I am. Which is why this birthday blog comes more than a week after her birthday.

The differences are what make her special. Enjoying doing things together is what makes her fun. Happy _ _ th birthday to my little sister. May we have many more years of doing things together.

A thank you day for our Veterans

The weather today stayed true to every vacation day we have had this year. Perfect. Sunny, not too warm and not too cold, bright blue sky. A perfect day for doing some fall outside yard work. My vegetable garden was in need of cleaning. How fast the summer went. It's hard to believe that 3 months ago my garden was lush and full of the promise of good eating...


......and today I was pulling up dead squash stalks and scooping rotten tomatoes into my wheelbarrow. It's part of a never-ending process. Grow and clear. Grow and clear. Before too long I will be watching from the warmth of my house as this barren garden is covered with (I hope) mounds of blowing icy snow.

Once I finished with the garden I began the long process of raking leaves to spread on my flower beds.

Paul hauled out the leaf blower to try to consolidate the leaves so I wouldn't have to spend so much time walking back and forth over the lawn to rake the leaves. As much as the leaf blower saves time, I have a REAL aversion to it. I really HATE the thing. It is just TOO noisy and intrusive. Raking leaves gives me time to think and reflect. I like to listen to the birds or the gurgle of Nickle Mine brook at the far end of the meadow as it tumbles over the rocks. I like to smell the maple odor of the maple leaves as I rake them or the aroma of mint as I clip it back. With the leaf blower the only odor you get is gasoline. Raking leaves is a sensual experience and modern contraptions like leaf blowers destroy that pleasure.


Despite that, I was able to think and reflect on the reason that we had the day off. I went to the grocery store this morning and, being Veteran's Day, there was a little table outside the door and an elderly man was sitting there collecting money for the Disabled Veterans. I can usually manage to look the other way when passing most groups accosting you at the grocery door asking for donations (unless they are students I know and then I am just too embarrassed to pretend I don't see them). But I cannot pass by the Veterans sitting at the table with their little cup of poppies. Donating a few dollars seems a very small payback for what they have done for us and our country.

So on this day my thoughts were on some very special Veterans.

My mother. A lieutenant in the army during World War II, serving as a nurse.


And Paul, a veteran of the Air Force during the Vietnam era. Can you guess which one is him??

On this day we also need to remember some of our real heroes, the families who are on the home front while their soldiers are overseas. The courage and strength that the parents, brothers, sisters, husbands, wives and children must possess is of super-human quality. The support they give to their loved ones is admirable to the nth degree. I admire them for this. Watch this short video of our unsung heroes and your heart will sing and weep at the same time.

Winter.........it's a coming!

On this date in 1948 my father wrote in his log that they were enjoying Indian Summer. Indian Summer is that period of sunny, warm weather after the leaves have turned following an onset of frost. We really haven't had a good Indian Summer yet this fall. Today it felt quite the opposite. The turning back of the clocks always makes it feel like winter is breathing down your neck and the weather today only enhanced that feeling.

It was sunny, but quite chilly with a definite nip in the air. I spent the latter part of the afternoon raking leaves and putting away some of the summer furniture. As the sun began to set the north wind started to pick up. As the sky began to cloud over and turn to a cold pewter color you could hear the wind moaning through the tops of the trees. Two weeks ago those trees were a riot of color, now their branches are naked and stark. The wind set my wind chime that sounds like a buoy to gonging.

I pulled my once lush but now pathetic petunias out of their pots and planters. I swept tons of leaves off the deck. I brought the tiny bird house that Kara painted into the house. I turned over my bird baths and drained the water out. I raked leaves over my flower beds. A few years ago I used straw for winter mulch for the beds, only because I read that it was better for the plants. The problem was that it was so difficult to remove in the spring. Much more difficult than the leaves. And once it was off I didn't know what to do with it. I had piles and piles of heavy, wet straw and nowhere to put it. At least the leaves I can put in the vegetable garden and mulch them it. So it's back to mulching my flower beds with leaves.

Even with all I did today I barely made a dent in putting my house and land to sleep for the winter. So much to do. So little time. It felt wintry today. The forecast calls for a snow/sleet mixture tomorrow morning. Not enough to keep anyone except the hysterical ones off the road. It will all change to rain. But it will let us know that winter is creeping up behind us. This week it will be time to close all the storm windows in the house and fill up the bird feeders. I think the bear have gone to sleep for the winter.

I worked outside until long after dusk. Then I went inside and had a cup of hot tea in front of a toasty fire. A good and satisfying way to end the day. The simple joys of winter.

10/10/10 - A special day for a special lady

Eighty-nine years ago on October 10, 1921, a very special person was brought into this world. My mother. Special because if there were no her there would be no me.Not that I am special but because of her I am a living breathing soul who is able to wake up every day and smile at the sun, love my children, smell the rain, cry when things are sad, laugh when things are happy and embrace everything that is beautiful in life. THAT is special.


Those are the gifts that she passed on to her children. The children that she has always loved with everything that is in her, even me at my worst when I became a teen-age hormonal monster. She lovingly forgave me for that brief Jekyll/Hyde stage in my life. When her children married she embraced their spouses as her own, rejoicing that she could add 4 more children to her brood of 5. Her children have always been the most important thing to her. That is all she ever wanted. At this stage in her life, when most of her belongings have been reduced to what can fit in the book-case against the wall in the room that she shares with a room-mate, her children are the sunshine in her life....the engine that keeps her running.


Today we gathered at the nursing home for a birthday celebration. One sister was not able to make it but for the rest of us it was a chance to gather around the table as a family like we did so many years ago on the farm. The nursing home very nicely set a table up for us in their Rec room and left us to ourselves. (By the way...the pin my mother is wearing says "Reading is Sexy". She loves wearing it, this lady who gave me my love for the written word!)


We had apple pie. We had cake. We opened presents. And we enjoyed being together. We sang Happy Birthday to my mother. She in turn sang a little ditty to us to the tune of Happy Birthday that she made up telling us how much she loved us all.

My thanks goes to Geer Nursing Home for giving us some private space to once again gather around the family table and enjoy my mother and each other. My mother always believed that the family should eat together, no matter what. Which is why she wouldn't let me be a baseball cheerleader when I was 12...........the games interfered with our Sunday meal together. She was right about that. I owed her my time at the table today.

And my thanks and love goes to my mother for just being my mom. As the card I gave her today said, she is still "the porch light that is left on". My comfort.

Wormy World

We had two days of torrential rain this week. It has been months since we have seen a rain like this. We had a 6 inch deficit of water this summer. We made up that deficit in two days. No one complained of flooded streets, soggy shoes or inside-out umbrellas. We were elated to see our wilted plants come to life and our reservoirs fill with water.

I notice a strange happening last week when my lawn still looked like shredded wheat and, like the Lone Ranger galloping through the desert on his horse, my car would leave a plume of dust behind me as I drove down my driveway. I noticed some worms were streaming to the surface of the ground. Victims of the heat and drought above ground, they soon dried out and littered the ground with their shriveled up carcasses. I had no explanation for this strange phenomenon which I had never seen before. The only thing I could think of was that it was becoming so unusually dry underground that they were surfacing in search of water. And it was dry VERY far underground. Paul had the the occasion to dig 6 feet down last week and there was nothing but dust for all those 6 feet.

So we had our rain. My thoughts would occasionally turn to worms and how thrilled they must have been by the drenching from the heavens. Today I was raking the lawn and had another strange worm happening. Seemingly stimulated by the sound of my rake scraping across the lawn dozens and dozens of big fat worms streamed out of the ground. I mean dozens and dozens.


There were so many that at times the worm-wriggling gave the dizzying effect of the earth slowly undulating. They would slither back down in their holes almost as quickly as they had surfaced. I noticed my lawn was pock-marked with worm holes and littered with worm scat. Why the influx of so many worms? Had they all taken refuge in the one damp spot in our lawn? I kind-of hope they stay because if they do our lawn will finally have some of the richest soil around and we might even have thick green grass. But I hope they stay underground. I think it would be rather disconcerting to the little grandchildren if the worms come streaming out as they play with their trucks on the lawn.

I don't mind them but at times they look a little bit too snakey to me, especially when they come at you en masse.

A man's world

September has flown by as fast as the leaves are falling from the trees. My postings have been a victim of these fast-flying days. So much to do, so little time.

On Sunday we took a little breather from our "honey-do" lists. Paul wanted to go to the Connecticut Antique Machinery Festival in Kent. I was in it more for the beautiful ride to Kent with it's lovely old homes than for the "machines". It was really a man's world. There were LOTS of machines. Old machines. Old tractors. Old steam engines. Paul's favorite John Deer B tractor. Doodle bugs. Old bulldozers. Men like to look at these kinds of things, over and over. Women.......not so much. After plodding through fields of tractors and steam engines puffing and snorting I spied rows of tables with vendors selling antiques. "Oh yes", I thought. "Antiques! Something for the little woman at last". My enthusiasm was quickly tempered as I approached the first table and realized the antiques were antique nuts, antique bolts, antique hammers, antique wrenches, antique pliers............men stuff again. Paul zeroed in on something he needed for his bulldozer. I was still empty-handed. Until we came to the last table. Ah ha! Something for me.


An old metal truck. Almost a mate to one I bought at a tag sale for the kids when they were little. And only $5.00! Sold! With a little paint it will make some little boys very happy when they come visit. Now there will be no fighting over who gets the big yellow dump truck.

We stopped in Kent for a bite to eat before heading home. The main street in Kent was full of leaf peepers as were the restaurants. We headed down a side street and found a very quiet, uncrowded spot to eat. Then we took the long way home and enjoyed the fall sights and smells. As we took a walk after dinner the wind picked up, bringing the smell of rain to come......thank goodness. As we sat on the benches at the UCONN branch where we stop midwalk I listened to the wind blowing through the trees. It has such a different sound in the fall. The dry leaves brushing against each other in the breeze sound like many hands crinkling reams of paper. Soon the leaves will be gone, it will be cold and the trees will creak and groan as the branches protest against the blustery winds. I can't wait!

Birthday time again!

August 29th. Stunning late summer weather. A perfect day to celebrate an 87th birthday. And celebrate we did. For a special lady....my mother-in-law. Paul and I gathered with his two sisters and their spouses for a lunch at the White Hart Inn in Salisbury to share the special day with her. The White Hart is, incidentally, where Paul took me out to dinner for one of our first dates. It was where he introduced me to black olives for the first time ("Here. Taste it. I know you'll love it.") It was love at first sight, both for black olives and for Paul.

After we feasted on tasty morsels such as 4 cheese quiches, omelets and homemade peach sorbet (with a candle for the birthday girl) we went outside for a group picture. Paul had a bit of a problem setting the camera up for a timed picture. He was snapping legs and feet but no faces, so we had to go to plan B.


Paul snapped a picture of us without him...................


..........and then handed the camera off to Betty's husband, Ron, so he could snap one with Paul in the group.

Paul had taken the whole afternoon off. Since it is so rare for him to have an afternoon off to himself he decided to not waste any of it. We decided to take a ride to Twin Lakes. It has been YEARS since we have been there. It is where Paul taught, or tried to teach, me how to water ski and where I learned a very valuable lesson about water skiing. Make sure you stand up as soon as you feel the rope tighten. Otherwise you will be skimming your bottom along rushing water that feels razor sharp....really razor sharp.

We couldn't remember how to get there but Ron told us just to take Pond Road and it will get us there. We drove and drove until we saw a sign welcoming us to Massachusetts but no Pond Road. That is when I remembered that Ron had said "Pond Road. Well, I THINK it's Pond Road. Or something like that". More vague then definite. Thank goodness for the GPS. We dug it out and it directed us to Hammertown Road. That doesn't sound too much like Pond Road but it did have a pond on it........

We had a beautiful drive between the two lakes. We stopped for a cold drink at O'Hara's Boat Landing and reminisced while we absorbed that heady smell of lake air. Years ago, in the late 50's or early 60's we had a very heavy rainstorm. It caused a landslide which went right through one of the lake cottages and washed it into the lake, killing a young girl inside. The only thing left standing was the chimney and fireplace, which you could see for years afterward as you passed by. Paul did not remember this happening and was curious as to where it occurred. I wasn't sure I could find the spot but as we drove along we saw that lone chimney and fireplace, still standing in a stand of trees near the lake after all these years. A sad sight.

We went through Falls Village on the way home and stopped at an antique shop that has recently opened in town. And am I glad we did. I have been looking and looking......and I mean looking and looking.....for a narrow bookcase to put next to my fireplace. I have looked everywhere, even on the internet, but I have not been able to find anything that narrow. We walked in the antique shop and Paul pointed and asked, "Is that what you're looking for?" And sure enough.......there it was.


It needs to be stripped and stained or painted but it fits just right. EXACTLY what I have been looking for. And for a good price, too.

It was a good way to spend the last Sunday of my summer vacation. Slowly driving through the shady, cool back roads and visiting places that had almost slipped from my memory.


And celebrating the birthday of a fine lady. Happy Birthday and here's to many more celebrations together!

64 and counting

Today I completed my 64th year. When I was young I thought it would take FOREVER to reach this point. It doesn't. When I look back on my life I feel as if it was put on hyper-thrust. Why and how does it go that fast? When I was young I thought 64 was, well, o_l_d. It's not. At least I don't feel old. Which is a good thing.

The day was very quiet and uneventful. Perfect birthday weather...warm, sunny, breezy, bllue sky. We finished putting urethane on our floor downstairs. I did some much needed dead heading in my gardens. I had a few cards and a couple of phone calls wishing me a happy day. Tomorrow we will go out to dinner with our very good friends. The only thing I wanted and didn't get? Cake!!

I think quiet birthdays have always been the norm for me, except for the year I was 16 and had a "surprise" party. My Aunt Mary kept a diary for years consisting of the everyday occurrences in her life. Nine years ago, on my birthday, my mother emailed me the entries my aunt had written from the time I was born until she passed away eleven years later.

1947 Mary Margaret a year old today Went over in the afternoon. Clara came. Barbara (one of my aunts) and the children came. Had ice cream and cake.

1948 MM second birthday. Went over and had a piece of birthday cake.

1949 MM three years old today. Did not go over. She had a party. H (My grandfather) and Margaret (My Aunt Mary's sister) gave her a tricycle.

1950 Went over to MP (My house, MP being my mother Margaret Pendleton) for a roast beef dinner.

1951 Mary Margaret's birthday. We went over to her party. All the Frueh grandchildren were there.

1952 Went to MM birthday party. (I believe this was the party where I stood inside the door and grabbed the gifts from my guests as they came in while my sister politely stood next to me repeating "thank you" as I continued my grab-fest)

1954 MM birthday. Went to the Falls Village Savings Bank celebration and Misty Meadow (the name of our farm)

1955 Mary Margaret's ninth birthday. Sunshine. Very hot. We are listening to the radio. The storm was terrible (This was the day after the '55 flood. I remember standing outside the house and watching my father pull a man and his Volkswagon out of the flood waters with his tractor. Party? Cancelled.)

1956 MM birthday. She has gone to Cape Cod with the Fosters. MP and her fmailhy and M and I had a picnic at the Grove. (I remember this birthday.....my very first away from home and was missing home that day. The Fosters were so good and had cake and presents for me. Made me feel so much better)

1957 MM birthday. The children were over and we had a birthday party.

1958 MM birthday. MP and the children came over and we had a picnic supper.


A pattern of quiet birthdays set me up for a life of and un-party girl. I like it that way. If I can manage to quietly celebraty 64 more birthdays I will be 128. A goal to work for!

30 already??

Thirty years ago on August 10, shortly after midnight, a little dollop was put on my life that made it perfect. My third and last child jettisoned his way into this world. With the life cord wrapped around his neck 4 times he wasn't in a hurry to leave the mother ship. But once he did he never looked back or slowed down. A REALLY active child, his teachers always called him "enthusiastic"......and when they said that you could see them visualizing the quotation marks around the word. It was a nice way of saying "he never slows down and is driving us rather crazy."

He has been the joy of our lives. Always a smile for everyone. Always willing to take time from his busy day to help anyone who asks for help. Generous. Thoughtful. Easy to be with. Never ONCE gave us trouble as a teenager.

From the day he left me in charge of his Big Wheel as he went off to kindergarten.....

..........until he graduated from Taft and then RIT, he has made us proud of everything he has done in school. Never in trouble (except for the day he shot the paper off his straw across the lunch table and lost his position as Line Leader as punishment), he has always worked hard at his studies in a very mature way. We never had to press him to "get to work and do that homework". It was always done unasked.

He grew from a rather quirky little basketball player.............


...........into a mature and handsome young man who owns his own businesses. (https://rowfeeder.com/) (http://www.untitledstartup.com/) a little free pr!


It's hard to believe that the little baby who I sang lullabies to is now 30 years old. As the song says "I don't remember growing older. When did they?" We loved him so much when he drew his first breath. We never thought we could love him any more than that. But we do. Happy 30th!

Is this vacation or am I still working??

School has been out since June 14 and I have spent almost every day since then working and sweating (it's been H_O_T) in my gardens and on my lawn. Weeding, mulching, dead-heading, watering, planting and slowly watching things wither away in this persistent heat and lack of rain. At least I haven't had a lawn to mow. Right now it sort of looks like shredded wheat. Yesterday I screamed ENOUGH! As much as I love being outside I do have things (lots of them) in the house that need my attention and only 4 more weeks to get them done.

First thing on my list yesterday was wash windows......inside and out. All 23 of them. This is not an easy process. We have double hung 12 over 12's (that's 24 little itty bitty individual panes to wash in each window) with a storm and screen combination. There is a pattern you have to follow. First you clean all those itty bitty panes (pains) on the inside. Then you have to remove the top and bottom storm and the screen before you proceed to step 2. In step 2 you pull down the top sash, stand on the window sill, reach over to the outside (but not too far or you'll tumble) and wash the two top rows of panes. Impossible to reach the bottom row that way. Then you push down the top sash and push the bottom sash up to the top, reach over and do the same thing. If you are on the second floor this can look pretty scary. All the time you are leaning over cleaning the outside you look down and think "please dear Lord, do not let this window break loose with me leaning on it". Once you're finished with the scary part you push the bottom sash up just a bit and reach out and clean the bottom 4 panes on the outside. Not scary because you can do this sitting on a chair. Then push bottom sash all the way to top, bring down top sash and do those bottom 4 panes.

Now you can take the screen outside and clean it with detergent and then hose it down. This results in VERY black water. While you are waiting for the screen to dry you can clean the two storms. Piece of cake. Just prop them up against the wall, a chair, a bureau, anything and clean. One nice solid piece of glass. No itty bitty panes. Now go outside and retrieve clean screen. Insert upper storm in window. Then insert screen. Sometimes it won't go in easily because upper storm won't stay where it is supposed stay and keeps dropping down. Holding the storm with one hand while pushing the screen up with the other and a little strong language helps here. Then insert bottom storm in window. DONE. By this time you are so hot and dirty and sweaty it is time for a break and a cold drink.

There was a time, believe it or not, when I could do the whole house in one day. But that was in my youth. My youth has long since gone and left me with a body and mind that move a bit slower. Halfway through my window cleaning process yesterday I decided that I would change my work habits. I would divide it up into two days instead, cleaning the downstairs windows yesterday and upstairs today. Sounded very doable. By 2pm yesterday I changed my mind again. How about just doing two rooms a day? That sounded better. So I did two rooms and a bathroom yesterday.

Today I did two rooms but at the end of the day I changed my mind again. How about doing just one room a day?? Even better idea. And tomorrow I'm going to choose one of the smaller rooms with only two windows......and one of those windows only has 6 over 6 panes.

But I have to do it fast because I am also staining the deck tomorrow. How many more weeks until I go back to "work"??

Wired up no more.

It's August already. School (gulp) starts this month. The sun is setting a little earlier each evening, making us feel a bit more rushed on our nightly walks. The katy-dids are chattering. The evening air is cooler and makes for better sleeping. I wore long pants for the first time this summer yesterday. It seems like summer just began and already we are seeing signs of the end.

Paul must be feeling a change in the air. Something about the coming of fall makes you want to clean and straighten up your messes. He has been busy doing that all evening.

Quite a few years ago when we were first becoming a computer family Paul built his own computer. He was so thrilled with what he could do that he couldn't stop. He kept building and building. Everyone in the family, including my mother, has had a computer built by Paul. His study became a holding cell for all the computers that he built that had no other home. Today he decided he'd had enough. His study was becoming claustrophobic. So much technology in one room was making his head spin so he decided to dismantle everything except for two lucky computers.

Computers mean wires and........oh boy.......did we have wires. We didn't realize how many until we started taking things apart.

There were wires draped from the window and across the walls.

Wires on the floor.

Wires under the table.

More wires in boxes.

And there was a surplus of keyboards.

And computers connected to all those wires. No wonder his study was as hot as Hades all the time. Windows would be wide open all winter long.


Disconnecting all these wires is a big undertaking. He wasn't a happy geek. Anyone who knows Paul and how he reacts when things don't go perfectly knows exactly what he is saying at this point. EXACTLY.

It's midnight and he's still working. He said he was going to bed early tonight. That is not happening. He's looking forward to "downsizing" his computer collection. He says it will make his frazzled life seem a little more "calm". But at the same time it was hard for him to pull the first wire. He put so much into these computers that he feels like they are his babies and he is being disloyal to them by unplugging their life support. All I know is that it is going to make the house seem a lot quieter once they stop breathing.

The summer buzz is on.

I am really feeling a buzz about summer this year. Being that last year was our "year without a summer" I feel like I have been waiting two years for summer to arrive. And, indeed, it finally has arrived. I am really loving my summer.

People may complain about the warm temperatures, but not I. This is summer. I want it to feel like summer. I don't think I ever wore a pair of shorts last summer. This summer I have never put on my jeans. It is shorts weather every day. It's a swim in the pool after a dirty day of gardening. It is iced tea. It is long walks on a balmy evening as we watch the sun set. It's open windows and soft breezes. LOVING IT!


My garden is loving it too. Last summer the tomatoes suffered from blight and it was so wet and dank all summer that NOTHING grew in the garden.......NOTHING. This year my garden is basking in the sun. This is what it looked like on Memorial Day......and that is pretty close to what it looked like all last summer.


This is what it looks like now. Everything is so......pregnant. Just bursting. Except for our brown grass. That is suffering from our sunny days with no rain, but it will come back. I have so many tomatoes that my vines are pulling the stakes over. The squash plants are almost as tall as I am. Basil is voluptuous. The eggplant plants look so promising. We're eating lettuce and beans and peas and squash.

I'm enjoying my peaceful mornings on the porch looking over my lilies (the only thing I could see on my lawn last year were mushrooms) as I slowly peruse my newspaper and sip my tea.....a luxury I seldom have in my rush to get to work during the school year. I open the windows and doors and let the cool morning air gently massage my senses. The two times when everything smells the best......early morning and just before sunset.

Most of my summer has been spent working on the lawns and gardens. I don't know if I'm just getting older or there is more work to do but I can hardly keep up with everything. It seems like I spend every waking hour outside but don't seem to get anywhere. I'm guessing the reason is the latter because I keep adding new little garden plots here and there. Why do I do that? Sometimes I think it would be so much easier to own just an acre of land so I could have an end point. With 16 acres I don't see an end point. I want to fill it all up.

I took a trip to the Falls Village Flower Farm this weekend. They had a sale on Clethra and I couldn't resist. So beautiful and smells so heavenly. Fills up the yard with it's fragrance. I had a spot that was becoming pretty ugly and crowded with mildewed pholox. I have really been hating it for several years so I spent the weekend pulling up the phlox, along with my ferns that spread from the far side of my lawn to in between all the phlox. Prepared the new bed and planted the Clethra. It took two full days of hard labor but it was worth every bead of sweat.

The Clethra wasn't even in an hour before the butterflies started making good use of it. There can never be too many butterflies in one's life, can there?

Of course I couldn't just throw away all those phlox. I had to give them a chance somewhere else. But where? There was no garden-ready area to stick them in. But I did have an area behind the stone-wall that would look nice with a stand of phlox. But it was loaded with wild rose bushes and rocks rocks rocks. Which means I spent the day pulling out rose bushes and digging up rocks rocks rocks. One thing you don't do when you are working around a stone wall is look anywhere except right in front of where you are working because a stone wall makes a good home for, well......you know....
s_ _ _ _ s. I wasn't going to press my luck that I would spy one squirming around. So I kept my eyes glued to the task at hand. And did lots of banging on the stone wall with my shovel to frighten any loiterers away.

I finished sticking all the phlox roots in the ground by dinner time and said to myself. No more gardening. That's it. But, you know..........as I was walking away I looked at the rest of the area behind the stone wall. A 30 x 20 tangle of bushes and weeds and thought...........that would look so much better as a garden. Maybe.............