Hello, dear readers. I wanted to write a quick blurb about something that is so important but we really don’t think about it. Maybe because it’s too commonplace or because as humans, most of us tend to live on the negative side. True there are some who are natural-born sunshine-y flowers that look at everything from a positive angle, and when you meet them you’re always impressed and just a little mystified. Maybe it’s dunned out of us as we grow and deal with life, the expectancies of others, and the realization of our own shortcomings; maybe it’s genetic, or even the luck of the draw.
Personality dynamics aside, I’m talking about the power of a genuinely happy smile. The internet is plastered with smile memes and most of us roll our eyes and go on. But think about it. How many times has a smile from a complete stranger lifted your mood? Go on. I’ll give you a minute.
While you’re ruminating, I’ll tell you about a smile memory. I was driving to work. A miserable place for me. The job was such a bad fit, but I needed the money and the experience, so I inflicted myself and everyone else with my presence day after day. I was, to quote Pink Floyd, deep in “quiet desperation”, in my car, waiting at a red light, wanting to be anywhere else. A young man came into view as he walked across the street, directly in front of the car. Out of nowhere, he looked up at me and flashed the most dazzling, 1000-watt smile a stranger can convey. I know he wasn’t pleased to see me but something good must have happened in his life, and I felt it. It brightened my whole day. This happened 22 – 23 years ago; that’s how powerful that smile was and that’s how much I must have needed it.
Now we’re back. Do you have a specific memory, or is it a vague inclination? You may not remember the exact time of day, what you were thinking at the time, or even what the person who gave you that smile looked like, but it’s there. Maybe it didn’t send your spirit soaring, but it definitely gave you a nudge that you needed. All because of a simple smile.
So next time you’re feeling happy and in a public space, share it! Throw that happiness at someone else with a smile. You never know.
Personal thoughts on a very public event while watching it.
Hello, dear readers. In the ensuing days since the announcement of Queen Elizabeth’s demise, the media has been careful to cover her final progress throughout the country. I was amazed to learn that once the coffin made it to London, the queue to view it reached a record-breaking 24-hour-long wait at its longest. One saw so many people shuffling past the coffin in quiet respect wearing running or walking shoes with a backpack slung over their shoulders. That was not a consequence of bad fashion choices but of necessity, with the most likely contents of these rucksacks being provisions such as water and protein bars, snacks, or fruit. I read that David Beckham, a famous soccer (football) athlete, didn’t play the celebrity card and waited with everyone else for 12 hours to pay his last respects. I may not be a soccer fan, but now I’m a fan of David Beckham.
Photo credit: enews.com.ng
The funeral service was dignified as she would have wanted. As the pallbearers carried that weight so carefully, I wondered about their collective blood pressures. That was such an honored position and even though it was practiced over and over, you know at least one was probably thinking “So-and-so better not screw this up” or “I better not screw this up”, and that couldn’t have made for an easy night of sleep beforehand. Thank goodness, no gaffes from this viewer were noted. They will be talking about their participation in this for the rest of their lives – and rightly so. It’s not every day one helps such a notable monarch to their final resting place. Good job, kind sirs.
The walking procession was, for the most part, somber, fitting the event, but I was confused by the occasional sporadic clapping on certain parts of the route. Naturally, we want to celebrate the Queen’s life and achievements, but a funeral procession is not the place to do it. This was her last progress. Anywhere. I’m generally not big on any protocol for most events, but when it’s someone’s last huzzah, rules need to be followed. If perhaps, Queen Elizabeth had been what most of us would call a “free spirit”, then maybe a more lively service would have been called for, but she helped engineer this, even designing the special hearse that would transport her corporeal remains. No court jesters or mimes to work the crowds called for here. To soften this criticism, I imagine the people who were clapping meant no disrespect, but it did feel weird to me.
On a more practical note, I sure hope the Queen’s guards and the dignitaries who marched along had inserted sturdy foot support for their arches and were wearing band-aids on their heels. From my experience in the military, uniform dress shoes were not made for walking long distances and could be quite uncomfortable. There was at least one dignitary who was a woman…wearing heels. OUCH! I’m sure she kept the long walk in mind and did what she could to ameliorate the effect of wearing fashionable footwear, but her feet are certainly aching tonight.
I must honestly say I’ve never heard a dirge played until now. I thought I had until I saw this funeral. And now we know why it’s called a “dirge”. Even spoken, the word comes out of tight lips wrapped around the consonant d, a short “er” to the softened g. I am going to hear those few bars, repeated over and over, in my head for a day or two.
As the hearse reached Windsor Castle, flowers on the hood and roof that were tossed by mourners as it slowly passed by the crowd were looking slightly wilted, which only lent to the sadness and finality marking this occasion. Strangely enough for me, what truly noted the end of it all was when the crown, the scepter, and the orb were removed from the coffin and then placed on the purple pillows, and the breaking of the Wand of Office. I cried all over again. I’m not a big fan of jewelry, expensive geegaws, and what-not, but these were symbols of the office of the monarch. They will await their next keeper, King Charles, at his coronation. King Charles III will not have the luxury of time on his hands, but there are those of us who have high hopes that he will fulfill his station as well as his mother, if not in an entirely different fashion.
It was a grand funeral with everyone, even the youngest royals, on their best behavior. Heads of governments from all over the world showed and put on their best face. No public squabbles or harsh opinions, only words of sympathy were exchanged. This was a once in a lifetime event. Even if King Charles III were to die next year (no, we don’t want that to happen), there would not be the same unification this death has brought. We wait to see what he will do with his reign. God Save The King.
Holding one’s breath in anticipation of an event that may or may not happen can grow very taxing.
It’s mid-July here in the Sierra Nevadas in Northern California and all eyes are scanning the horizons. Wildfire vigilance is on high as we all watch for any puff of smoke or an errant lick of flame. As I’m sitting here on my deck, enjoying the cerulean blue of an undisturbed sky my thoughts are not of the light fluffy variety; more along the lines of “where’s the next fire and how quickly will it be doused”? Yes, there have been some large fires so far this year, but all have been contained, the Rices, Bridgeport area being the largest at 904 acres with 13 structures destroyed. Right now as I view YubaNet.Com/fires, it looks like all is quiet on the western front.
I would like to think that the lull is a combination of a cooler than normal start to the summer, education, brush and forest clearing, and just plain reverence for the magnitude of a fire that’s gone out of control. Still, I also know there are people who are pyromaniacs and also people who just don’t give a hell that they’re destroying not only the environment in general, but the habitat of the wildlife in the woods, and the homes of humans, and endangering lives. But I guess that’s all in a day’s work for an asshole who enjoys it. Good job.
In the meantime my reputation as a knitter is growing. I live in a small community and I’m being tagged in Facebook groups when people need help with a project or restoration of a beloved item. I generally don’t mind helping people, but I’m actually afraid to be considered an expert when I know I’m an advanced beginner. In these two instances, though, I didn’t feel that I could actually say “no”…
The Christmas sock was for an overwhelmed young mother, the restoration was for a woman whose mother had knit the mitts and has since passed away.
Life goes on. Here are some random pics:
Miss American BeautyInvestigating the kiddie poolPlenty of thorny blackberry bushes around!Double DelightChrysler ImperialAs there isn’t a whole bunch of light on my lot, the roses and anything else I grow tends of be on the reedy side…except for the damn blackberries!
When a pleasant cashier accidentally keys in the wrong code, hits enter, and you’ve already followed the prompts for your debit card transaction so it just goes through…
Yea, it says $1.00
When the cash register rang up $1,018.98, I initially thought that was the previous customer’s amount due. Then I saw the cashier shake his head and say “That’s not right” and my android buzzed in my pocket, notifying me I was overdrawn.
So began the story of how a $1 loaf of discounted, near its expiration date bread, became $1,000.
The day had begun in a pleasant way with a Stitch ‘n Bitch session at the local coffee shop. I’d taken my Chihuahua, Nala, along just because. She behaved herself (mostly) and brought us lots of attention while we were sitting outside at one of the small tables, enjoying the pleasant mid-March weather. Part of the fun of living in a small town such as Colfax is the people-watching. You see all sorts, from the what the hell happened to you? variety, to they must have taken the wrong exit and think they’re in Tahoe or Truckee high-maintenance looking types and everyone else in-between. (Wow, that’s a lot of hypens and italics!) So not a whole bunch of knitting involved there.
As all good things must come to an end, we parted company; that, and my butt bones were sore from sitting on the hard cafe-style chairs. Since gas prices are what they are, I decided to combine this outing with a quick stop at the local grocery store for some odds and ends. Even though I didn’t anticipate being gone above five minutes I made sure Nala had a bowl of water and the windows were cracked once I got to the parking lot. Good thing I did that.
As the transaction was being rung up, I followed the prompts on the point-of-service keypad as I always do. That was my mistake. Had I not done that, this would have been a non-issue and I wouldn’t be writing about it here. After the initial disbelief and shock wore off, the store manager came to issue a refund that would take 3- 7 business days to go through. That burned up some minutes as the first few attempts were unsuccessful. I called my bank and I was told that nothing could be done until the transaction had gone through and I could put in a claim. In the meantime, my account was not only emptied but overdrawn.
I tried my best to not panic nor lash out. Colfax is a small town, and this store is pretty much the only game going for 20 miles around. And who could I lash out at? We all make mistakes, that’s human enough, and the manager did what he could. I am not impressed with the whole point-of-sale system that takes your money within seconds of a transaction then takes literally days to refund it, but again, no one to yell at. I had to rein it in. Real. Hard.
I thought I was doing good until I made it back to my car, dazed because my mind was racing so fast I couldn’t keep up with it. I opened my door and gazed down upon a pee puddle on the rubber mat. Thank God we have rubber mats. Then the demons were really fighting to bubble up to the surface. Somehow I pulled the mat out and rinsed it with the left over water in Nala’s water bowl without making too big of a mess. I carefully backed out of the parking spot because there was a mother with her child walking behind my car. I knew I couldn’t give in to the anger – not yet. It got to the point where I was having to talk to myself out loud to try and bring it down.
That was the toughest ride home in a long time.
After getting home in one piece, I contacted my bank using the customer relations number because I had some more questions. They sure make that hard, don’t they? I didn’t like what I was told – basically, the same thing I’d heard at the store with a few more details – so I threw my phone across the room. Have to admit, those are tough suckers. It still works.
Those crackles are not the case holder – but it still works
So it’s been over a week and now I have a surplus of money that’s not mine. That’s better than not having anything. I went back in the store, and the cashier from the incident was there, but I decided not to go through his line this time, because I’m sure there’s a psychological element now in any dealing I will have with him. After I made my purchase, I went to speak with him and see how he’s faring. He apologized sincerely, and we talked briefly about what happened. He pointed out that there is now little sign above the point-of-service keypad exhorting the customer to first verify the amount before swiping. I didn’t even see that when I went through the line, but you can bet I didn’t need to. And hey! I’m now a policy!!
Upside? I’m getting a new phone and now I will wait for the total to be entered and verified anywhere I use a card. No more tapping my card and entering my PIN so I can get out of there seconds faster.
When the storm’s over for 12 days but it’s still messing up your life and a surprise for everyone at the end!
As I sit in my now less than cozy home, 12 days into a “no-electricity-living-on-a-generator-and-I’m-going-broke-keeping-it-filled-with-propane” scenario, I check the PG & E website for further updates, which, so far, have not been very accurate. We were supposed to have our electricity up and running two days ago, and now we’re looking at four more days. I hate to sound so privileged with these complaints, but I’m getting tired of resetting my coffee maker and microwave every morning when we turn the generator back on, I want to go to sleep without having to carry flashlights to the bedroom because it’s pitch black and I don’t have cat’s eyes, I want to cook using my electric stove top and oven.
You may be asking, What’s the holdup, Glenda? Why is there no electricity in your neighborhood? Well, the trees that I mentioned several posts ago not only blocked driveways, but they crashed into electrical lines, houses, cars…you name it. During a break in the weather, I took my doggies walking through the neighborhood yesterday. It looked like a bomb went off.
I know the electric crews are going as fast as they can, as safely as they can. They’re working overtime, I know because just today the trucks were rumbling in front of our house around 6:30 pm in the rain.
Incredibly bad image of the trucks in front of my house.
On the lighter side of things, I’m plugging along on my latest project, the Birkin sweater by Caitlin Hunter. Downside, it would appear that my variegated contrast yarn has pockets of colors that are very light. I did not see this when the yarn was twisted in its hank at the store; very disappointed in that. I’m not stopping, though, because I think it’s going to be its own funky thing. It’ll be fine, even if isn’t!
See? Looks a little sloppy
And keeping in the lighter theme, I purchased waterproof, flannel-lined jackets for all three of my furbabies. The largest one meant for my Queensland did not fit, so we’re in the process of getting that corrected.
This keeps them warm and dry against the wet muck that their little feet kick up to their belly.
And the electricity just came on!! I don’t know how to act! I get to boil noodles again, bake squash, take a shower any time I want, wash my clothes and all sorts of fun things – woohoo!! Hang on…
There’s still a lot of cleaning up to do in our yard, and more generally, the neighborhood, and I’m so very grateful my house wasn’t one of those damaged by falling trees, that our cars weren’t dented, and that I have good friends with chainsaws. But…
Happy New Year, everyone! I don’t know about you, dear reader, but I don’t hold too much store in resolutions and gym memberships at this time of year. I’ve found that every day of the year can be the start of something wonderful. No need to start fresh on only one day, that’s so limiting!
Having said that, what are your resolutions, if any? A general idea of mine is to delve more deeply into my crafts this year – not exactly a firm resolution, and something I’m going to do anyway. Another ongoing concern of mine is to keep that weight off and concentrate on losing more. Again, not exactly a goal intended to further my journey into a cohesive oneness with myself. I find that true epiphanies generally occur spontaneously with me, without being shoehorned into a weekend retreat, or pushed after a certain activity meant to create self-revelation. I’m not condemning people who actively seek to better themselves – that’s a truly commendable thing. There is a point, though, when you find yourself spending way too much time reflecting inward when this focus needs to be shifted outward. That’s where the quagmire begins. Yes, I’ve been there, and this blog is a really good example of that! LOL!
Enough with the deep thoughts. Whatever you decide to do as a resolution, as long as you’re not actively seeking to hurt others or yourself, can’t be bad.
And now for some more bitching about the weather.
That’s about 5 feet…Thinking of moving this around to sneak out on the other side.I’m coming for you, baby!Now to rescue my car
The last post you saw my husband and me fighting with the gargantuan mounds of snow and downed trees stretching across the driveway, hindering our only means of egress. Since my man has the job and not me, we came to a mutual decision to clear out his side of the garage and create a pathway for his car. Now he’s at work, and I want out. I spent about 10 minutes clearing one tire track and not quite making it past the berm. Speaking of epiphanies, I have discovered…
So with this in mind, I will take a deep breath, get back out there, keep my fingers crossed that our propane supply will outlast the power outage, and deal with my various adversities one day at a time.
It’s been three weeks since the fires near me were burning out of control. They have since been put out, but not before four more fires closer to me we’re started then contained…mostly. Good news for me is that I’m still here. It hasn’t been so lucky for other people. Again, there haven’t been any deaths related to all these fires but a lot of property loss. I feel so sorry for the people who have lost everything. They didn’t have time to go back to their houses to pack up anything… to include their beloved pets. 😢
With the fires, my husband constantly gone and me having to deal with all these urgent/emergency situations by myself, the pandemic, the continual underlying feeling of dread, and my personal health issues (which I do not discuss in detail here, because hey – it’s personal), I’ve been having trouble not crying out of context. I’m expecting at any moment to break down and not be able to recover. I can’t concentrate, I can’t remember things or habits I’ve known for years, I forget the new stuff, I’m snappy to the people I work with, – – and none of them deserve that – so I figured I’d better take a few days off. Hopefully I can get my head together, figure out a coping mechanism of some kind, because I know things aren’t going to change any time soon.
So life goes on. I still walk my dogs (when the smoke allows), still knit and crochet, still hang with this guy I’ve been married to for 38 years, and I still have hope for the future.
Here’s some pictures that will brighten the tone of this post. Enjoy!
This activity can help, but I have been known to “cry walk”. (No, not an obscure reference to “Home Movies!”)
Giggling with my husband at a restaurant during one of the few times he’s home
My furbabies canoodling on my lap
Getting my shot. Nice lady. She bandaged my owie afterward
This happened 10 minutes after my husband left for work. Had to deal with it – and yes, I did!
My latest design. I’m calling it Jungle Creeper!
Working on my first “Shawl In A Ball” project while waiting to be swabbed
A week in the life of a mountain small town – WOOHOO!
Living in a small mountain town has its quirks, drawbacks, and bonuses. Take shopping, for instance. We have a fairly comprehensive shop in town where you can get most of your groceries – but at a cost. It’s hard to compete with Wal-Mart, even when it’s 30+ miles from home. Seriously. And going anywhere with amenities is at least 10 miles. But I live here…
Not everyone’s cup of tea, but I love it!
So when your local shop has an annual meat sale, you go, you stand in lines, chat with everyone else who’s waiting, and walk out with a full grocery cart and an empty bank account. Thank goodness for the stimulus checks!
The butchers were good-natured about my camera happy zeal! However, this being a small town, many of the locals who are social media savvy know who I am and what I post. 😇
And the excitement doesn’t stop there!😆 Even though I have enough yarn stashed away to open a small shop, there’s always room for more, especially when it’s a fun, thick yarn, such as Lion Brand Go For Faux Thick And Quick yarn. I purchased four skeins and was able to half double crochet my daughter a scarf in about one hour. It was much appreciated.
The colors and project were inspired by my daughter’s presence. She liked the colors and i hadn’t made her anything for quite some time.
Of course, I have a more long-term knit project going on. With Christmas sales on hold until October, I am working on another fingering weight pullover. Presenting Purl Soho’s Ribbed Raglan Pullover in Sweetgrass Beech Bark colorway. I started this about two weeks ago and I’m still on the yoke!
On my lunch break.
I’ll be updating on the progress of this sucker for about a year! Seriously, I’m shooting for about two more months. We shall see…
On a final note, there’s nothing like getting up at 5 A.M. to drive your friend 50 miles for an early surgical procedure, and one of the little roads you take has a big tree lying across it. We still made it on time because she caught a ride from her husband before he went to work (he doesn’t have paid time off; ergo, my timely intervention) where she was dropped off on the other side of the blockage! One person just muscled their way around the limbs (see pic), but I didn’t want to chance scratching up my paint.
The image on the left shows how one person just bulldozed their way around it – and how I was missing my Jeep at this point!
As it went, when we were leaving, one of the stranded motorists just happened to have a freaking chainsaw in their car and was gassing it up as we walked by. Imagine that!
As I’m sitting here in my car, waiting for the procedure to be over for my friend, I’m thinking this post feels more like a diary entry than compelling reading, but I hope you enjoyed it anyway.
When life imitates art it can get weird and surreal.
It feels like a long time since March happened and life around the globe changed. The fact that everything started closing down while we were in Hawaii made the transition for me even more dramatic. Even though we’ve all made adjustments, some things still hit me right between the eyes. Like, where have I been? For example, while walking around in Cost Plus World Market the other day, the piped-in music was interrupted by a recorded, soothing, female voice gently reminding us to wear our masks and keep social distancing. I turned to my friend and said “This feels like Logan’s Run!” She agreed. We also agreed that it was surreal. Sometimes, life imitates art, and when it does, it can be some weird shit.
Vicki trying on the cool wraps at Cost Plus
It wasn’t until I saw a Bass Pro tv promo advertising that Santa was going to be in the shop that I realized just how much this fucking pandemic is changing everything about the upcoming holiday seasons. I mean, the little ones don’t know, but for those of us who remember “the before time”, it brought tears to my eyes. I mean, Santa behind plexiglass? I almost cried. Then, I remind myself, it’s for the children. Act like nothing is different, that everything hasn’t changed, and life goes on. It’s for them. For us who remember, it may never return to our halcyon tinted memories of what was. But what’s really trippy, at least to me, is when the little ones grow older and we’re long gone. They’ll remember these visits to Santa behind the sanitized plexiglass divider and face shield with nostalgia and warm feelings and long for the “good old days”.
So mother nature tried throwing me a curve, but I ended up having fun anyway!
And disaster continues. I’m starting to feel like a Jonah here, people! My last mini-staycay involved the death of my cousin’s friend (no funnies there, really), wildfires, evacuations, and nearby riots. In March, while on the beautiful island of Oahu, in the North Shore area, we watched in disbelief as the world got hit in the face with the coronavirus and everything changed.
On the way there
On the way back…
Pretty sunset pics
The next day – there’s no filter here, guys.
So in retrospect, Houston was easy, but it sure didn’t feel like it at the time. I spent way too much time on my phone, watching the projected track of Hurricane Delta. When Southwest Airlines sent me a message that I may want to modify my flight due to weather, I nearly went into a state of apoplexy. With my niece’s young children to keep my behavior in check, I managed to maintain a relatively calm demeanor going, but that is tiring. Ultimately, I did change my departure time to beat the landfall of the storm, and after all that, the most we got were some showers. Not complaining! I had resolved myself to a bumpy departure and the first 20 – 30 minutes of moderate turbulence. Turned out to be the smoothest flight I’ve had in a decade!
Out walking in the storm before leaving. Guest dog, Chico.
Plenty of room.
Waiting for takeoff.
Bands of clouds from the hurricane.
Goofing with “Hurricane” hair!
Friendly flight attendants.
The beauty of a sock project is that you can work on it anywhere.
Smoke over my beloved California. <:(
Seeing familiar landscape decreased my anxiety levels.
But my time there wasn’t spent in a total tissy. I lived in Del Rio, TX from 1988 – 1992, and I realized that Texans still aren’t as concerned with their diets as Californians. LOL! Don’t misunderstand me here – I’m sure there are plenty of health-conscious Texans, I just didn’t run into any of them, and the amount steak houses and BBQ joints I saw (and patronized) seemed a bit on the heavy side.
Brisket with macaroni and cheese, green beans and bacon, with side of jalapeno, pickled onions and pickles, and of course, I had to have pecan pie!
I also went to the NASA Space Center in Houston – whee! – and the Houston Museum of Natural Science. There were so many other things to do, but we had limited time. Here are some more images to peruse.
Hobby Lobby finds
Lunar soil. Doesn’t look like my idea of “soil”.
I never realized these capsules were sooo tiny! Look real careful to find the figure inside.
Now this was bad ass! Huge.
Different angle.
Empty boardwalk.
Downtown Houston
Kinda explains itself.
At The Museum of Natural Science.
Orange garnet and diamonds
Amethyst and diamond
Sweet Chico who kept me company on my walks.
And guess who got stuck in the back with the kids?
And yes, I did ride that loop thing. It’s been so long since I’ve ridden any kind of ride!
On a separate note, the temperature blanket is moving along nicely. It’s getting so large I’m finding it hard to shove back into my gigantic project bag! I can’t wait for this year to be done for so many reasons, but this one is in the top 10!
Nittin' Ninja 