tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-40225242024-03-07T15:41:09.222-08:00Witt BitsDorothy Parker once said: "There's a hell of a distance between wisecracking and wit. Wit has truth in it; wisecracking is simply calisthenics with words."mzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09719189844924892740noreply@blogger.comBlogger887125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4022524.post-64682984563805365152016-02-06T12:16:00.001-08:002016-02-06T12:16:25.463-08:00New BeginningsSince this blog turned out to be a journal of things I thought might be enjoyed by friends and family, I find it is a good time to move on to the real goal. I need to write the book. I may check in here once in a while but anything pertaining to my writing will be at my new <a href="http://www.wittbits.com/" target="_blank">Witt Bits</a>. I look forward to your comments there.MZhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06838883369715596449noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4022524.post-91999058554201240762015-06-20T09:13:00.000-07:002015-06-20T09:17:48.506-07:00Dad, I Understand <div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 15.0pt; margin-right: 15.0pt; margin-top: 0in; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="font-family: "Comic Sans MS"; font-size: 10.0pt;">Written in the year 2000</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNjXlTBdSUA5KhSzkfHdB1IljuhR-5Jz-K1qmN1OjmTl6EbyG-wLpyRnpEqSCEIDJubSNYuKndPpDXVEY4CD1JtBeisGr-3cOgzAi5RfaS0kdL14MvuDPxDemJTLBDrqV5ZyE/s1600/Scan_Pic0001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNjXlTBdSUA5KhSzkfHdB1IljuhR-5Jz-K1qmN1OjmTl6EbyG-wLpyRnpEqSCEIDJubSNYuKndPpDXVEY4CD1JtBeisGr-3cOgzAi5RfaS0kdL14MvuDPxDemJTLBDrqV5ZyE/s200/Scan_Pic0001.jpg" width="163" /></a><span style="font-family: "Comic Sans MS"; font-size: 10.0pt;">Dad
is eighty-four years old and spends most of his time sitting in the worn out
reclining chair at Harmony Home day after day just waiting to die. Macular
degeneration has robbed him of most of his sight but on good days he can
faintly see large objects in the little peripheral vision he has left. On bad
days he sees only darkness with occasional shadows. His hearing is limited. He
used to joke about hearing loss in his right ear being caused by mom's
incessant talking from her seat in the passenger side of the car, but more
likely it comes from his years as an MP in the Army. The arthritic pain in his
back is another reminder of his military career ending in a medical discharge
with full pension, the army sure that he would not live more than a year or two.
His bone thin legs are too weak to support his body for more than three or four
steps so he transports himself four times a day to the dining room in his wheel
chair. His voice, once bold and unrestrained from the pulpit every Sunday, is
barely audible yet he continues to smoke in spite of surviving cancerous throat
nodules years ago. His one remaining kidney (the other one lost to cancer more
than a decade ago) still filters the cocktails he sneaks on the nights he can
get away with it. The Depends he tries to hide in the bathroom don't always
confine the consequences of his incontinence. Lately he has been hiding his
vitamins in his orange juice every morning, refusing to eat his meals,
surviving on one and a half cans of chocolate Ensure a day and two large
Hershey bars per week. Today he weighs only 119 pounds and his height has
shrunk from 5'8" to maybe 5'4" or so. He rarely smiles but sometimes
we see a glint of amusement in his eyes. The few words he speaks now are less
frequent reminiscences of mom, more complaints about his eyes and ears, and
most often the words none of us want to hear, "I wish I could see. I wish
I could hear. I am useless. I want to die." He sinks into bed by 5:30
every night praying that God will take him away from this prison.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Comic Sans MS"; font-size: 10.0pt;">I
hold dad’s hand,and memories, tidbits of time I shared during my fifty-one
years with dad, surface more and more each day. The farm house. Cats. Dogs.
Rabbits. Chickens. Long sermons (he always insisted they were never more than
20 minutes). Ice Cream Socials. Chocolate kisses in his suit coat pocket when
he came home from a long day at the steel plant. Trips to sandy beaches on the
shores of Lake Michigan. Driving cross-country, sleeping in the silver sided
16-foot trailer every night. Picking up my new bicycle after he encouraged me
to save my 25 cents-a-week allowance for over a year. His patience in teaching
me to drive after I failed Drivers Education at school. Grueling moments as he
drilled my very few potential dates with endless questions. Forgiving me for
scratching up his beloved Chrysler Imperial. The day mom died. The day my first
son was born and how Dad tried to be Grandpa and Grandma too. Letting me learn
my own life's lessons.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Comic Sans MS"; font-size: 10.0pt;">Life's
lessons, I guess that's what this is all about. Dad wasn't always the perfect
father. I wasn't always the perfect daughter. So now this seems the biggest
lesson of all. Letting go. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Comic Sans MS"; font-size: 10.0pt;">Dad,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Comic Sans MS"; font-size: 10.0pt;">I'll
pray for you tonight. I'll pray unselfishly that you get what you are praying
for.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
MZhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06838883369715596449noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4022524.post-22820616351069863222014-09-10T10:36:00.003-07:002014-09-10T10:36:21.334-07:00August 365 Project<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCo2rExDPSBTygZ0Bb1lEU_exeTB3lWo0nwsjnfGdogimkt0pyYIy1lJCdir-zTKzOuACPlTvdL8FxjgjWDtXcLLOuYCgJV5wdO0Lw5qQSjX-NuOa0ug43uoHP-JKgfR3RVyI/s1600/August+2014.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCo2rExDPSBTygZ0Bb1lEU_exeTB3lWo0nwsjnfGdogimkt0pyYIy1lJCdir-zTKzOuACPlTvdL8FxjgjWDtXcLLOuYCgJV5wdO0Lw5qQSjX-NuOa0ug43uoHP-JKgfR3RVyI/s1600/August+2014.jpg" height="311" width="400" /></a></div>
Yes August was finished. September is in the works.<br />MZhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06838883369715596449noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4022524.post-33759980518046101272014-08-22T13:00:00.004-07:002014-08-22T13:00:42.029-07:00Ice Bucket Challenge<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Have you done it yet? My video is on Facebook.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1Rvw5GiZ0OA1ub5agRyGehzM4QdMbNHsBMw7YxsWwWTm4r50pFLR47CdaHIZONWM0Hhxtmn9wA61bT64o4UWduPi6u0iOIxHtS4ncXsOe_s_nakpK_HhxBuv-aCG49Cso9MI/s1600/Snapshot+1+(8-22-2014%2B12-57%2BPM).png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1Rvw5GiZ0OA1ub5agRyGehzM4QdMbNHsBMw7YxsWwWTm4r50pFLR47CdaHIZONWM0Hhxtmn9wA61bT64o4UWduPi6u0iOIxHtS4ncXsOe_s_nakpK_HhxBuv-aCG49Cso9MI/s1600/Snapshot+1+(8-22-2014%2B12-57%2BPM).png" height="180" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />MZhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06838883369715596449noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4022524.post-68072450219557310112014-08-06T18:59:00.000-07:002014-08-06T18:59:23.891-07:00Bike Shopping<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp4ZFfm5dYQfQaRo1SHAo3UuR7VDzumRT1S04eDFlQsLPpxu_fIlKpa402PN1KthJzwju7QR_UWyf1WFBG0rMjDQfme37GQ93dPcGWm8hLNNFFQTK14y9hTCrPCLTTGblJczk/s1600/BikeShopping.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp4ZFfm5dYQfQaRo1SHAo3UuR7VDzumRT1S04eDFlQsLPpxu_fIlKpa402PN1KthJzwju7QR_UWyf1WFBG0rMjDQfme37GQ93dPcGWm8hLNNFFQTK14y9hTCrPCLTTGblJczk/s1600/BikeShopping.jpg" height="200" width="112" /></a></div>
A grandma walks into a bike shop with her grandson. Clerk asks how he can help. Grandma says, "I'm a little lost with this process but I need something for my grandson." The clerk sizes up the grandson who is now eleven and heads toward the mountain bikes. Grandma adds, "please be kind to my budget and I think he has it more in mind to get a BMX." Meanwhile grandson is already looking at the price tags and has picked out not the cheapest one but one with a middle of the road price.<br />
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"Sorry, I can't let him test it with those sandals," the clerk points at grandson's feet.<br />
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"It's ok," Grandma says. "We're just looking. So what can you do for me?" He leads Grandma over to some cruiser type granny bikes with fat tires and seats the size of a sofa cushion. "Those don't look likely to make it up the big hills around here," Grandma comments. Looking down the row, Grandma spies some hybrids with smaller seats and thinner tires. "What about those? I do still have a little oomph in me you know," she says.<br />
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The clerk squirms and gives Grandma a sheepish grin, "I knew that." Yeah right. Grandma tells him we'll be back on Friday with proper shoes.MZhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06838883369715596449noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4022524.post-37891610763877858262014-08-01T17:29:00.000-07:002014-08-01T17:29:42.617-07:00The Rest of July<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0qxR6Sx3hHvc0OizqseWDyupR-GMjOutl3qcD3IkWSPBtZt9XWKYz7z80o2sXKxlMDSAzOzUqrSO_31D5ca_8A3Pk78zOQ353JCqv57XCiH_BfoL55-51uXSxcSDMt4ATndY/s1600/365+July+2014a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0qxR6Sx3hHvc0OizqseWDyupR-GMjOutl3qcD3IkWSPBtZt9XWKYz7z80o2sXKxlMDSAzOzUqrSO_31D5ca_8A3Pk78zOQ353JCqv57XCiH_BfoL55-51uXSxcSDMt4ATndY/s1600/365+July+2014a.jpg" height="259" width="320" /></a></div>
The 365 project was completed with daily photos but it turned out to be a bit of a challenge considering the last eleven days came with a few complications. We could just say the happier days were the trip to The Dungeon and lunch at The Rainforest Cafe on the 21st and the afternoon at Chouinard Winery on the 27th. Not that anything bad happened between those days. It was just busy so the photos are random glimpses of the days.<div>
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The most productive day would be on the 29th when I clicked the publish button for Chris's book first book of his Trilogy, <a href="http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00M3OVUS2" target="_blank">Firefly Dreams: In the World of Hipponox </a>. He could use some support in the form of reviews. </div>
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Lastly, the sad part. We had to put Rusty down on the 30th. We miss him dearly but find peace in thoughts that he might now be with his lifelong partner, Minnie.<br /><br /></div>
MZhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06838883369715596449noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4022524.post-5589004483478250882014-07-20T18:28:00.000-07:002014-07-20T18:28:18.646-07:00No Dogs On Beach<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-08Lc8KH0EHJGuJ3UaCcHLLXio39AqFRWu-qUy6d_BfBDhpUSDQPQnXrlZFS6mHqN9RdEwU63ZFlMOBGzmQTQZeivCv3d3hnCVPqyiAAuSBfXJ4TwJZr1CKWvQPvsbGVpjeU/s1600/NoDogsOnBeach.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-08Lc8KH0EHJGuJ3UaCcHLLXio39AqFRWu-qUy6d_BfBDhpUSDQPQnXrlZFS6mHqN9RdEwU63ZFlMOBGzmQTQZeivCv3d3hnCVPqyiAAuSBfXJ4TwJZr1CKWvQPvsbGVpjeU/s1600/NoDogsOnBeach.jpg" height="186" width="200" /></a></div>
It was a perfect weather day for a trip to Half Moon Bay. All was well until we discovered the poor dogs wouldn't be allowed on the beach. Did we let that stop us? Hush! Don't they look happy after their romp? We are happy too... we didn't get caught.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVVnzeLkrL7DljCdfj390LIvtHvsO2dEUdex76INuJOz-BWRadyvXoPDuSfcmK_CwTQixa1DNBsLaUFaMpkVwIWyRn4164WxFmgKCkYWx_x55Te2o-aLjXFBVnOYmVuy3WjdU/s1600/SAM_1413.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; display: inline !important; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVVnzeLkrL7DljCdfj390LIvtHvsO2dEUdex76INuJOz-BWRadyvXoPDuSfcmK_CwTQixa1DNBsLaUFaMpkVwIWyRn4164WxFmgKCkYWx_x55Te2o-aLjXFBVnOYmVuy3WjdU/s1600/SAM_1413.JPG" height="149" width="200" /></a>It's a little late but yes I did get my photo on the 365 Project last night. Here it is... leaving the Lafayette Reservoir after the Rossmoor Big Band USO show.<br />
<br />MZhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06838883369715596449noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4022524.post-23211551286562285182014-07-17T21:09:00.002-07:002014-07-17T21:09:49.066-07:00Dinner Is Served<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4l67yEuLKio3ekMi26Bs65WwToiBZwkUUGqD0dzMF9r8im9OzZNLf-YwgCfFCHld2HFFy03BWJ0K0ZXAbqhmfX70GpEXtMhoVolOoFSYBNaxMST-xU-W4bgwyA22q2kOe_O4/s1600/Dinner+Is+Served.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4l67yEuLKio3ekMi26Bs65WwToiBZwkUUGqD0dzMF9r8im9OzZNLf-YwgCfFCHld2HFFy03BWJ0K0ZXAbqhmfX70GpEXtMhoVolOoFSYBNaxMST-xU-W4bgwyA22q2kOe_O4/s1600/Dinner+Is+Served.jpg" height="154" width="200" /></a></div>
Little J is working on his cooking skills in hopes of losing the "OhPickyOne" nickname. His entree for tonight's chicken enchilada dinner turned out to be a tasty perfection. Grandma's addition of some fresh fruit and Cole slaw rounded out the menu. Perhaps we have a future chef in our midst.MZhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06838883369715596449noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4022524.post-49252460695220942252014-07-16T20:22:00.001-07:002014-07-16T20:22:41.937-07:00Send in the Clouds<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDGkOL8O0d7w7HlIXnrHMJTNDrr-5MZx5pW3mJFDWvVVx3NraHr9F0qOD6nVZ_z2xSBasRqGFz4uZQE0bwAujaKvU_8gRfaj8pjn0sdRPi1CpjYLZurzodsjKeeC0ngW3huJU/s1600/06.16.14.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDGkOL8O0d7w7HlIXnrHMJTNDrr-5MZx5pW3mJFDWvVVx3NraHr9F0qOD6nVZ_z2xSBasRqGFz4uZQE0bwAujaKvU_8gRfaj8pjn0sdRPi1CpjYLZurzodsjKeeC0ngW3huJU/s1600/06.16.14.jpg" height="149" width="200" /></a></div>
I'm seeing a trend in this blog lately. I guess it goes along with the old saying, if you can't find something safe to talk about, talk about the weather. Kind of boring perhaps but, yes, it is safe. The clouds are a welcome relief from sticky hot days. My garden could have used a downpour but it sprinkled only enough to mess up the cars.MZhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06838883369715596449noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4022524.post-91749448283579237032014-07-15T19:02:00.002-07:002014-07-15T19:02:57.545-07:00Drought Berries<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx3nS_UDGQCR-xk6TNBS7gfHjcSH_J0lEK19VyynFalM6DF9egyYZ0DRg0M6GEtpnegxJDwAKADEqjjLPWS5Cbe77WAX9NBAMgknKEw723JJcoScwdhqPQYsI6FJ-YuU5J2LM/s1600/SAM_1364.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx3nS_UDGQCR-xk6TNBS7gfHjcSH_J0lEK19VyynFalM6DF9egyYZ0DRg0M6GEtpnegxJDwAKADEqjjLPWS5Cbe77WAX9NBAMgknKEw723JJcoScwdhqPQYsI6FJ-YuU5J2LM/s1600/SAM_1364.JPG" height="150" width="200" /></a></div>
It's an annual tradition to have at least one piled high, golden brown, old fashioned blackberry pie, usually in August. Doesn't look like much will happen in the next 30 days so might as well put away the recipe book. Will be lucky to get enough berries for a bowl of cereal. Planning to do some serious trimming end of summer and hope for a better crop next year.MZhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06838883369715596449noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4022524.post-29812594452846937382014-07-14T18:01:00.000-07:002014-07-14T18:01:42.340-07:00Catnap Weather<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGc2jDCrVnJPUGK2jY34GXCUjW0dq7kSZLEJiHs_Y5oSaATVop7nM3-beFViu5PE_XwFnE3hEVa2fMGiJ06ft5-CrMusfMmRRnrB_8WhRLA34iEMyJA5ZsxHHSpc-TtyEtCWk/s1600/07.14.14.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGc2jDCrVnJPUGK2jY34GXCUjW0dq7kSZLEJiHs_Y5oSaATVop7nM3-beFViu5PE_XwFnE3hEVa2fMGiJ06ft5-CrMusfMmRRnrB_8WhRLA34iEMyJA5ZsxHHSpc-TtyEtCWk/s1600/07.14.14.jpg" height="200" width="200" /></a></div>
Another day of nearly 100 but it's supposed to be noticeably cooler tomorrow. Now that I'm working at home more, I get to see how the kitties survive the heatwave. Wanda takes a spot near the semi-productive air conditioner in the living room yet Rusty still takes up desktop real estate.MZhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06838883369715596449noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4022524.post-62816044684669886162014-07-13T19:32:00.001-07:002014-07-13T19:32:32.442-07:00Tunnel Vision<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh38tbrbUzt1JSUNoLlpeANr-JKujvdZQTPAjOgUlTlp28BlBeTJ_pqJk5e-t-20g09qQ65lGbQfFigDuM95L0LtsK2bJKRXI1sBfpg9RWNuARq1XNV78eQeJAfbqXXK0RQ3AY/s1600/SAM_1346.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh38tbrbUzt1JSUNoLlpeANr-JKujvdZQTPAjOgUlTlp28BlBeTJ_pqJk5e-t-20g09qQ65lGbQfFigDuM95L0LtsK2bJKRXI1sBfpg9RWNuARq1XNV78eQeJAfbqXXK0RQ3AY/s1600/SAM_1346.JPG" height="148" width="200" /></a></div>
I've been trying to get a good photo inside the new bore of the Caldecott Tunnel but since I'm usually the one behind the wheel, it's a bit awkward. I gave Little J a shot at it this morning on the way to church and this is what he came up with. Maybe I should have washed the windshield first. Next time. Meanwhile we are enjoying a faster commute to Oakland these days.MZhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06838883369715596449noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4022524.post-29431113091027794102014-07-12T15:38:00.001-07:002014-07-12T15:38:22.901-07:00Pizza Moons<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzSwXdmdSR4LLGvB9-jMLaq-97MtAMBxHAR9sK8hVPs4jBZjFQG-AGZQmaBsDHBuwVz04EnrdMDkMWGVWWKEe93ckxq_Z6DRQhA1-ReOkam06ruck9oUeibwuMzY36wMminaY/s1600/07.12.14.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzSwXdmdSR4LLGvB9-jMLaq-97MtAMBxHAR9sK8hVPs4jBZjFQG-AGZQmaBsDHBuwVz04EnrdMDkMWGVWWKEe93ckxq_Z6DRQhA1-ReOkam06ruck9oUeibwuMzY36wMminaY/s1600/07.12.14.jpg" height="131" width="200" /></a></div>
Little J's counselor suggested that he might want to learn how to cook this summer since he is so picky about what I put in front of him. So here was his first attempt straight out of All Recipes. It worked. He ate them with gusto and actually they weren't bad.MZhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06838883369715596449noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4022524.post-48624997259551705262014-07-11T18:17:00.001-07:002014-07-11T18:17:55.808-07:00Frustrations<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCCEjjKKvuTUhG8ukEPDm5zofq431R3DFNQ6CsYZPcISxY6sXIHOZk6yLEmTHu_Qz4bkfOhVwTsCBUIyrLWIjhbgx3RXpawxuKsOBXF27zUE8zdRPRMNgTk0r7Da0R35ZTCSM/s1600/Frustrations.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCCEjjKKvuTUhG8ukEPDm5zofq431R3DFNQ6CsYZPcISxY6sXIHOZk6yLEmTHu_Qz4bkfOhVwTsCBUIyrLWIjhbgx3RXpawxuKsOBXF27zUE8zdRPRMNgTk0r7Da0R35ZTCSM/s1600/Frustrations.jpg" height="99" width="200" /></a></div>
Today's cable experience turned out to be worse than yesterday's car ordeal. First the promises: I'd have better equipment and more channels; I'd have faster internet (25mbps); plus I'd save $20 a month. Or course I'd jump on that deal. So the installer shows up. "Where do you want the phone?" he asked. I was quick to inform him that there was no phone in this deal. He came back with something about a package deal but that he would go ahead with the install without the phone and I could call Comcast and straighten it out. After over an hour hour on the phone with Comcast: I get to keep the upgraded equipment; I get a slight increase in internet speed (6mbps); I don't get any extra channels; I pay $20 more per month. Happy? NO NOT AT ALL. The first lady offered me three months of HBO and Showtime for my trouble. By them time I got though with the manager, that went out the window with the rest of the promises. Oh, and did I mention, there is an outage on cable TV this evening? This isn't over yet.MZhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06838883369715596449noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4022524.post-4628575852086328732014-07-10T20:35:00.000-07:002014-07-10T20:35:45.483-07:00Driveway Ornament<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7zm4zEgn36pUSrt7VBkothd2L6mYef8Qx9KBeNsVcxtd54NMg2WBG2piTQj976D-bRLiR-i4q_fZwurjl3cGPJ7hrL3KtYepRg4o2O5YpGDMBYGGpU_J2fx-SjY1eVSHy2FM/s1600/SAM_1322.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7zm4zEgn36pUSrt7VBkothd2L6mYef8Qx9KBeNsVcxtd54NMg2WBG2piTQj976D-bRLiR-i4q_fZwurjl3cGPJ7hrL3KtYepRg4o2O5YpGDMBYGGpU_J2fx-SjY1eVSHy2FM/s1600/SAM_1322.JPG" height="150" width="200" /></a></div>
After yesterday's frustration with returning the leased vehicle, I bit the bullet. So here is my commitment to working another six years. Hoping it will last as long as I am capable of driving. Hey, I didn't like having a blue car anyway. It just wasn't queenly enough for this red hatter.MZhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06838883369715596449noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4022524.post-21592643537117130582014-07-09T18:19:00.002-07:002014-07-09T18:19:31.439-07:00Oak Galls<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJNxiqFHOG6O2tIR0IzDdCH13YCywAEGW6RrmsyP9-o3wZVfMdjrGALV12gA0muA5feTkuBAJo2AWQvE7Ozss-YZcgcxEYJmtqdMF0IAqRCZzT00x_J8t0-MKiYkC4EjVdRdo/s1600/SAM_1318.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJNxiqFHOG6O2tIR0IzDdCH13YCywAEGW6RrmsyP9-o3wZVfMdjrGALV12gA0muA5feTkuBAJo2AWQvE7Ozss-YZcgcxEYJmtqdMF0IAqRCZzT00x_J8t0-MKiYkC4EjVdRdo/s1600/SAM_1318.JPG" height="149" width="200" /></a></div>
What tender morsel is this little guy after? I haven't observed this before but am guessing there must be something good to eat in there. This is the best I can do for today.<br />
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Most of the day was taken up at the car dealership... my lease was up and the options are bewildering. Let's just say, I don't think I'll ever lease a car again... there are too many hitches when the time is up. It seemed like a good idea at the time. I should know better.MZhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06838883369715596449noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4022524.post-9591498881147872042014-07-08T20:43:00.002-07:002014-07-08T20:43:48.369-07:00Expect Delay<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQOjClZ1JO-fjUdvJnKOLf1W_fkTRZ8j50AMGMj1TnBv8lj27AqTcmKTvUrOgNF8wgj4fEgtZHhhPHY-Lg8vWjqU7gNA_QPrB6bZ8kdYScsPXLTLoEWPvOzAxArtODtLzorQ0/s1600/SAM_1316.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQOjClZ1JO-fjUdvJnKOLf1W_fkTRZ8j50AMGMj1TnBv8lj27AqTcmKTvUrOgNF8wgj4fEgtZHhhPHY-Lg8vWjqU7gNA_QPrB6bZ8kdYScsPXLTLoEWPvOzAxArtODtLzorQ0/s1600/SAM_1316.JPG" height="148" width="200" /></a></div>
One small delay and the entire day is thrown off. Problem is since there are 20 minute delays at both routes out of town, there is no escape. So who is responsible for both ends of town being blocked at the same time? There has to be some logic somewhere. Beginning to feel like we are living Under the Dome.MZhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06838883369715596449noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4022524.post-33100057188274034562014-07-07T18:00:00.001-07:002014-07-07T18:00:47.742-07:00Invader<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3fzBUKyaM4V7KLwX_TKzUdWZ7aZkAXu5-iLqNVw59W9LDokjux9mLoCWqUkErRhq6CALqV1PkSy52USLfzE97cZMioaTfrOax7gZTErziXK2WBOcJWutHFqDcXMCC07Hnrig/s1600/SAM_1311.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3fzBUKyaM4V7KLwX_TKzUdWZ7aZkAXu5-iLqNVw59W9LDokjux9mLoCWqUkErRhq6CALqV1PkSy52USLfzE97cZMioaTfrOax7gZTErziXK2WBOcJWutHFqDcXMCC07Hnrig/s1600/SAM_1311.JPG" height="148" width="200" /></a></div>
Another frequent visitor to my home office has been scrambling around the new bird feeder. There was a bit of a ruckus atop the eaves this morning with his clumsy approach. He has been peeking over the edge of the roof all day but I suspect he'll figure out the angle soon enough. Meanwhile today's flying visitors included California Towhees, a Mourning Dove, a couple of Blue Jays, the house finches and a couple others I haven't identified.MZhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06838883369715596449noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4022524.post-58717379046894029022014-07-06T18:34:00.002-07:002014-07-06T18:34:51.035-07:00Bird Sanctuary<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRrp8ne7sKNcPSURSYzNciURpoXd-eQNOfoXwZ3GTOlC5-Yz9Nzf37Y4AKhFYSRpVixEHBIBdJx0hvNYbgpl2dyQU_y2p9-zat2s9DY8H29FSV6fzn8r2rMc__I4nANZ1BVIc/s1600/SAM_1298.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRrp8ne7sKNcPSURSYzNciURpoXd-eQNOfoXwZ3GTOlC5-Yz9Nzf37Y4AKhFYSRpVixEHBIBdJx0hvNYbgpl2dyQU_y2p9-zat2s9DY8H29FSV6fzn8r2rMc__I4nANZ1BVIc/s1600/SAM_1298.JPG" height="150" width="200" /></a></div>
Despite my filling a nearby feeder with the special blend from <a href="http://pleasanthill.wbu.com/" target="_blank">Wild Birds Unlimited</a>, Mama Bird was not pleased to have me hanging out on the patio this sunny warm afternoon. I'm willing to share that wee bit of real estate under the eaves so in turn she must accept that there will be a landlord on site. It happens to be just outside my office door and provides a cheerful and melodic respite while from working at home. All the more reason to leave my yard as nature intended it.MZhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06838883369715596449noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4022524.post-63727076191560260872014-07-05T16:39:00.000-07:002014-07-05T16:39:37.689-07:00Kid in the Candy Shop<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgT-AR_LChSpMKmPyOP88yLYsMcGtu_iohEJ6NtasoZoTy_1zJnoaY1Iy-xbCQTgAgctO72jUUMa39HXP5JplfTJpz0sp6_xH3GiWbaCpKkLrXtwxXHRZrpxE6XoZYkzS_1rhE/s1600/SAM_1286.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgT-AR_LChSpMKmPyOP88yLYsMcGtu_iohEJ6NtasoZoTy_1zJnoaY1Iy-xbCQTgAgctO72jUUMa39HXP5JplfTJpz0sp6_xH3GiWbaCpKkLrXtwxXHRZrpxE6XoZYkzS_1rhE/s1600/SAM_1286.JPG" height="150" width="200" /></a></div>
One can't go to Old Sacramento without stopping by the taffy shop. After all there are free samples. That is free samples every single time I have ever been there except yesterday. I should have known when I saw the security guards. To make a long story short, Grandma got busted sampling the Red Velvet Taffy. When we returned today, the old deal was back... we each got to sample two pieces (fortunately they didn't seem to remember me and the sentinels were gone). So many choices.MZhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06838883369715596449noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4022524.post-21278895270553634402014-07-04T22:28:00.001-07:002014-07-04T22:28:32.435-07:004th of July<p class="mobile-photo"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPQQLfAazuuGbNAb3r6YOdD6M2GvlI4UMkmd42rEyJ_fqeso2VlyzcdE_gVuP2omgrnhZgv5qYMKBDKa1ectBo3VWxBZ19774k5ri7UCVAgUnX_l6IQvEESrCGpGMrkJAlZN0B/s1600/SAM_1238%257E2-712435.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPQQLfAazuuGbNAb3r6YOdD6M2GvlI4UMkmd42rEyJ_fqeso2VlyzcdE_gVuP2omgrnhZgv5qYMKBDKa1ectBo3VWxBZ19774k5ri7UCVAgUnX_l6IQvEESrCGpGMrkJAlZN0B/s320/SAM_1238%257E2-712435.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_6032445261499706418" /></a></p><p dir="ltr">View from the Tower Bridge fireworks at Raley Field. We scattered with the crowd for the best view. Perfect warm evening treat. Happy 4th!</p> mzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09719189844924892740noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4022524.post-89555290171838238982014-07-03T19:35:00.002-07:002014-07-03T19:35:15.538-07:00Life is a...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoY7XR66eF-z-5Xa7lp1MZ0enLb6dwTk1pcpR5cSIOnuEzkyBZvLI4RNqCi6Bauce296C27xTgEdxxYzVvMYM6_CyKtYOtaTuY-MFaWMwvP1vdk0BwnWkhfmyAqRsxggKPH6g/s1600/SAM_1207.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoY7XR66eF-z-5Xa7lp1MZ0enLb6dwTk1pcpR5cSIOnuEzkyBZvLI4RNqCi6Bauce296C27xTgEdxxYzVvMYM6_CyKtYOtaTuY-MFaWMwvP1vdk0BwnWkhfmyAqRsxggKPH6g/s1600/SAM_1207.JPG" height="149" width="200" /></a></div>
Bowl of Cherries. Getting in gear for the 4th of July so looked for something red, white and blue. Seems like it's hard to shoot red as I discovered before when trying to shoot a display of all my red hats. So this is my late in the day attempt to get something in just under the wire. Going to go eat them now... sweet strawberry cherries.MZhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06838883369715596449noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4022524.post-9874356193564165802014-07-02T21:04:00.001-07:002014-07-02T21:04:30.227-07:00Scoping it Out<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirBx-j3AFfqBbyoeQeqESzfJumoNS15nudkrnz6WrWFNDhNZRGB0X2hzGmPyres_zpg6D-5RJn-cvOC92LRlKT-edCkCI6hW3rvlx_6pw5zZQmykJ4ewfxC5b-G7A-yZr9k6s/s1600/Endoscopy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirBx-j3AFfqBbyoeQeqESzfJumoNS15nudkrnz6WrWFNDhNZRGB0X2hzGmPyres_zpg6D-5RJn-cvOC92LRlKT-edCkCI6hW3rvlx_6pw5zZQmykJ4ewfxC5b-G7A-yZr9k6s/s1600/Endoscopy.jpg" height="200" width="200" /></a></div>
Glad it wasn't me going in there. I was perfectly happy to settle in on this side of the door. All came out well. Seems like the older we get, the more time we spend in these kinds of waiting rooms.<br />
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Meanwhile an elderly lady (yes I can say elderly... I may be old but I'm not elderly yet) accompanied her hubby into the prep room. When she came out, the receptionist told her to make herself comfortable and if she needed it there was a restroom over in the corner. She sat on the edge of her seat opposite me scoping out the room. After a few minutes of studying the man/woman sign on the door, she asked the receptionist, "So where is the restaurant you mentioned?"MZhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06838883369715596449noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4022524.post-31402368163016743832014-07-01T18:52:00.001-07:002014-07-01T18:52:40.306-07:00Blue Fortune<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6_mfRlJbRRH6zuLBxWfhYNQz4lhvjmJ1XD3nKwHgMyAYJQSOEWux7WRT8JlafAtTgujF1O6R6IwViYK_YYNeqW4JTG3_B7YJYBMDCcVe9-GbW1RmtFDTj1cQ5rzFE3w6mJdY/s1600/SAM_1195.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6_mfRlJbRRH6zuLBxWfhYNQz4lhvjmJ1XD3nKwHgMyAYJQSOEWux7WRT8JlafAtTgujF1O6R6IwViYK_YYNeqW4JTG3_B7YJYBMDCcVe9-GbW1RmtFDTj1cQ5rzFE3w6mJdY/s1600/SAM_1195.JPG" height="200" width="149" /></a></div>
Agastache Blue Fortune is the latest addition to our garden. I was looking for a "butterfly" plant and this is what was available in our local nursery. It was labeled "Hummingbird Mint." Supposed to attract butterflies and hummingbirds and it flourishes with little water and not a lot of care. On top of that it is deer resistant. All key words for me. But wait - what are those little purple and red critters lurking about the pot?MZhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06838883369715596449noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4022524.post-15968853020755146612014-06-30T13:27:00.001-07:002014-06-30T13:27:31.506-07:00How Hot Is It?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggusjhnYxSLN8i86zjn2kT0ZHO47IIO_9JPKBb8j9P9QOp4Nog4ZDOVa_gQQ2FBH8naIle8GFEyqVVyRQHGydfcS-xvnb6FjLqAFY7wbnB8pRD5CbpYFCD9Eolum7njDMHy_0/s1600/06.30.14.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggusjhnYxSLN8i86zjn2kT0ZHO47IIO_9JPKBb8j9P9QOp4Nog4ZDOVa_gQQ2FBH8naIle8GFEyqVVyRQHGydfcS-xvnb6FjLqAFY7wbnB8pRD5CbpYFCD9Eolum7njDMHy_0/s1600/06.30.14.jpg" height="200" width="200" /></a></div>
Hot enough to dry the artichokes. Since my goal this summer seems to be working on an arrangement of dried plants, the warm weather is welcome. Hot weather? Not so welcome. Thank goodness for our tiny little air conditioner that works so hard just to keep the living room bearable. Counting myself lucky that tomorrow I work in an air conditioned environment.MZhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06838883369715596449noreply@blogger.com0