Lime Green Purses

A woman brought her lime green purse to a meeting last week.  She set her purse on the table with a thump.  "Oh, I like your purse," I lied through my teeth, "I had one the same color when I was in eighth grade."  And it is true.  In eighth grade I had a lime green purse with a zipper on the side and a zipper at the top and a long shoulder strap made out of silver chain.  The woman accepted my compliment and added, "This is one purse I never loose or leave behind."  I smiled but I really wasn't listening.  Mentally I was back in eighth grade again. My Dad had just come home from a business trip.  He said he had something for me.  As he handed me the lime green purse he said, "I hope you like the color."  Actually the color was horrific but the fact that he thought of me on his trip and brought me back a gift meant the world to me.  So I accepted the gift with grace used my lime green purse for a long time.  One day I set it on the kitchen counter.  Someone used the toaster and the vinyl on my purse melted onto the side of the toaster.  The purse was ruined.  And I went on to a new purse in a more neutral color.  I have fond memories of my lime green purse though.  It was the thought that counted. 

Growth of a Nation

For a shortened, fascinating course on the growth of our nation, click here: 

This is a “growing” map of the country, showing it from 13 states to 50 states. It includes the acquisitions from England and Spain, the Slave states, the Free states, a segment on the Civil war,
It includes some mentions of Central and South America, etc.

Click on each State for further info. Be sure to let the children and grandchildren see this.

 

 Turn on your sound, as the narration is a significant portion of the presentation.

 

 

http://www.animatedatlas.com/movie.html

 

Beautiful Bacteria

I got my lab results today.  Here is a photo of the bacteria that is growing (and hopefully dying) in my leg.  Actually it's kinda pretty isn't it?  I'm seeing cherries in a glass with ice cubes.  Shirley Temple anyone?  My bacteria look almost tasty.  I would totally buy a blouse or a scarf in this pattern; not pants but possibly a skirt.

Planning a Reward

I am looking ahead to better days.  Much better days when I won't have to take antibiotics.  Better days when I won't have to spend 15 minutes every morning preparing my leg with gauze, sterile saline and ace wraps.  Better days when I am allowed to (joy of joys) take a shower.  I have much to be grateful for and I know it. My leg looks better now than it has since early July.  The lump is smaller; smaller than my knee.  A shin injury is easy to dress and more dignified than many other body parts; also easy to cover with clothes. And I've been able to work all but five of the days since I fell.  And I have a sedentary job that makes it possible for me to sit with my leg elevated.  But still, when this is over I deserve a treat. My injury happened just shy of three months ago.  What kind of treat is commensurate to what I have been through?  A party?  No.  Too much work for me.  Buy myself something new?  I can't think of anything I want.  Road trip?  Yeah, ROAD TRIP! I think a road trip is a good way to celebrate the end of this abscess/cellulitis/giant hematoma/open wound.  Where, how and when I don't know.  All I do know is why I deserve a road trip. . . . . . . .  Where to go?  How will I get there?  All pleasant questions to ponder.

Healthy and Tasty - Zucchini Vegie Lasagne

We often have a choice between healthy and tasty but in this recipe I got both.  I used a zucchini (the size of a baseball bat; the kind that are often given away in the fall) instead of the pasta in a lasagna recipe.  I liked it and I'm not a huge zucchini fan.

Ingredients:  one large zucchini, one bunch green onions, three or four garlic cloves minced, one green pepper, one container of fresh mushrooms, one 15 ounce container ricotta, 8 ounces cottage cheese, hunks of leftover cheddar cheese if you have it, one fresh egg, one handful fresh parsley, six fresh basil leaves, four Quorn fake chicken patties, one half cup butter, 1 cup vegie broth, 8 ounces shredded mozzarella cheese, parmesan cheese to taste

Directions:  Clean and quarter the green pepper.  Rub a little olive oil on the green pepper and broil until the skin turns black.  Allow to cool.  Mix the ricotta, the cottage cheese, the egg, the minced parsley and the minced basil leaves.  Set aside.  Sauté onions, garlic and mushrooms; set aside.  Microwave the quorn chicken as directed; set aside.  Peel one side of the zucchini baseball bat.  Using a wire cheese slicer, slice lasagna noodle sized (3 inch by 11 inch) slices from the zucchini.  Give the rest to your chickens.  Set aside.  Melt butter in a sauce pan. Add vegie broth.  Add 4 ounces of mozzarella cheese and stir until cheese is melted. Dice up the quorn chicken and add to the sauce.  Set aside.  Assemble the lasagna.  Start by putting a quarter cup or so of the sauce in the bottom of a 9x12 cake pan.  Lay 3 strips of zucchini down.  Cover this with half the sautéed mushrooms and onions.  Add half the chicken.  Cover with 3 more strips of zucchini.  Layer on all the ricotta cheese mixture.  Follow that with 3 more strips of zucchini.  Layer on the rest of the mushrooms and the rest of the chicken.  Follow with the last 3 strips of zucchini.  Add the last four ounces of shredded mozzarella.  Sprinkle parmesan cheese on top to taste.  Cover with tin foil.  Bake at 350 degrees for 50 minutes.  Remove tin foil and bake 10 minutes longer.  Allow to set for 15 minutes before serving.  Enjoy!

Body Control

This is bound to make Offspring #2 crack up.

Harvest Time

On Sunday I harvested the garden.  Considering I haven't even entered the garden since late June and we had a drought in July and August, I'm lucky to have anything at all to harvest.  I dug up up two rows of russet potatoes and two rows of yukon gold potatoes.  The russets were larger in size.  I had a bumper crop of marble sized potatoes this year.  I dug up four rows of carrots and have enough for one good batch of carrot soup.  I harvested one green cabbage and one tiny pumpkin.  Several tiny cobs of corn were found and each a half dozen kernels on them.  The chickens enjoyed those.  I think my harvest was rather rich considering how little attention the garden got this year.  Fortunately for me I chose to put my tomato plants in pots by the garage door.  Those I did keep watered so I had a good harvest of tomatoes and basil and parsley this year.

Booya

Today I reconnected with the St. Paul side of me by traveling to Frederic, Wisconsin.  I went to a booya.  In St. Paul we had booya every fall.  Booya is a soup cooked in a kettle so large the soup is stirred with a wooden paddle the size of a row boat oar.  It's delicious, as I remember.  I don't eat it anymore because I don't eat meat but it looked delicious.  At this particular party, the booya is from a famed recipe obtained (for a price) from the Sylvan playground near St. Bernard's Church.  With several kinds of meat and lots of vegetables, this booya is not as rich with tomatoes as the booya I remember from the B-Dale Men's Club.  Along with the booya they served bear sausage, chips and tortillas, and about 17 kinds of bars and cupcakes.  I had a great time listening to the live band and reconnecting with family.  My hostess lives on 80 acres of woods in Wisconsin.  Her place is in Wisconsin on the downward slope toward the St. Croix river valley.  She has a lovely place.  She says she is not comfortable walking in her woods anymore because of the high number of bear on her property.  I guess she and her husband must have been good stewards of their land if more bear have decided to claim it as their home.

Frozen

Mary Casanove wrote Frozen, another novel lent to me by my kindly neighbors.  This story takes place in the northwest angle, or the chimney cap of the state of Minnesota.  At first I thought this book was oddly written. Then I realized it was young adult fiction and the writing style made more sense.  I liked the descriptions of the lakes, islands and forests.  I especially liked the description of the Kettle Falls Hotel.  Twenty nine years ago I visited that hotel with it's oddly slanted dining room floor.  Was this a great book?  No, not by a long shot.  But it was entertaining and helped me pass the time.  Sadie Rose is the main character.  As a 15 year old orphan she tries to literally find her voice and her family.

The Eyre Affair

I'm busy reading a stack of books from my kind neighbors.  One of the books they brought me is The Eyre Affair by Jasper Florde.  I enjoyed it but as I read I thought an person with a major in English would get more out of this book than I did.  I'm sure many literary references went way high over my head.  In this story, set in Britain in 1985, time travel is possible.  In this story it is even possible to travel into books and kidnap characters.  This makes first editions very important because if a character is kidnapped from a first edition book, all the subsequent editions are affected.  If a major character is kidnapped the book becomes much shorter. Various literary fans study the first editions to make sure no fictional characters are kidnapped.  The main character and heroine of this story is Thursday Next.  One of the things that amused me about this book is the names chosen for the characters.  The bureaucratic bumbling official, for example, is named Lieutenant Jack Schitt.  Although this isn't a book I would have selected for myself, I did enjoy it.  And I admired Thursday Next very much. 

Civil War Hospital

Today I had my appointment at the wound clinic.  It wasn't as bad as I expected. I didn't see a waiting room full of bloody bandages like a civil war hospital.  I did see people in wheelchairs, using crutches and wearing splints.  In the therapy room I saw a man's stump where his leg was amputated below the knee and of course the first words that come to my mind are, "Civil War Hospital."  My therapist was very kind and a good listener.  She didn't give me permission to shower like I had hoped though.  And her estimate of the time until my wound heals was twice as long as the doc's which was disappointing.  She thinks it will take a month before I am wound-free and he said two weeks.  In the back of my mind though, I have to admit that I thought he was overestimating my healing ability.  I suspected he was telling me what I wanted to hear. Just like he didn't want to be the bad guy on the shower issue.   She says some necrotic tissue has to be removed with a scalpel before the wound will heal.  Again, not the news I want to hear. She said the doc can do it in the office.  She debrided the wound and that was not fun but she was careful and gentle. She photographed it and measured it.  She took a pen and drew lines on my leg around the red areas and told me to call the doc of the redness went beyond the ink borders.  She showed me a new way to pack the wound.  She taught me about wrapping it.  She offered to teach me how to use an ace bandage. I accepted and am so glad I did.  She had a magic touch with the ace bandage.  I've been using ace bandages off and on since July but never has one given me as much comfort and pain relief as the one she put on me today.  The way she put that ace wrap on cut my pain level completely in half.  The rest of the day I felt more comfortable and had more energy  and felt lighter on my feet than I have in almost 3 months.  She spent 10 minutes teaching me how to wrap my leg in an ace bandage.  Who would think using an ace wrap was so complicated?  When I see her again I will have to demonstrate my skills.  I wish I could see her every morning and have her wrap my leg.  I will try my best to duplicate her efforts.  I might have to set my alarm an extra quarter of an hour early so I can get this right.  So even though I didn't get the answers I hoped for (Yes, feel free to take as many showers as you want.  I totally think you'll be healed by October 1st) I am glad I went.

Koala Care

In the building where I work there is a "Koala Kare" changing station on the wall in the women's restroom.  Ever since my trip to Australia I notice this more.  I wonder why they chose the koala as an animal mascot for their child care products.  Are koalas known for being caring parents?  Well, they do keep their babies in their pouches which seems very safe and caring.  And koalas are vegetarians which seems safe and caring.  Koalas are not aggressive which seems safe and caring.  Koalas are mammals and feed their babies milk which seems safe and caring.  So I guess, overall, koalas are safe and caring parents.  What gets me about koalas, and I think about this every time I see a koala kare changing station, is what koalas do when their babies are weaned.  Adult  koalas eat only one thing, eucalyptus leaves. Because all they eat is eucalyptus leaves, their scat smells pretty good.  Koalas travel from tree to tree examining each leaf looking for the leaf that has the best moisture content and the lowest toxicity.  For their babies to transition from mother's milk to eucalyptus leaves, the right bacteria to digest these leaves must be introduced into their system. So before the offspring eat their first leaf, the mother koala feeds them her scat. That is right, folks.  Baby koalas get crap for dinner.  Now does that seems like a good parent, a safe and caring parent to you?

The Path Not Taken

I had my appointment with my surgeon to look at the work he had done.  I didn't peek ahead of time which was good because the drains were attached to the gauze covering the wound.  I made the decision to have surgery because I didn't want to wait 6 to 8 weeks for my leg to heal.  With surgery, he said, it would take 10-14 days.  As it turns out, the surgery wasn't 100% successful.  Two of the stitches didn't hold.  So it will be more than 10-14 days before I heal.  I hope it won't be 8 more weeks but, well, who knows exactly.  When I see him on Monday I am going to ask for a new estimate. Next week I have an appointment at the wound clinic.  Wound Clinic.  Doesn't that just sound awful?  I picture a scene from a movie about the Civil War with a waiting room full of people wearing bloody bandages and holding onto crutches.  I don't want to go to the wound clinic.  So yeah, this isn't the greatest news for me. I keep thinking that there must be a lesson for me in this whole bruising experience.  In a single moment back on July 5th, almost all my habits changed.  Swimming for miles and using the elliptical have been replaced with marathon sessions of lying on the couch with my leg elevated and watching old western shows like Wagon Train, Gunsmoke and Bonanza.  Motorcycling, gardening, and kayaking have been replaced with trips to the drug store to buy antibiotics and gauze.  Who knows what would have taken place if I didn't slip off the deck?  Maybe this bruise recuperation period is preventing something catastrophic from happening!  Maybe, given that I don't know what would have happened if I didn't injure my shin, I am lucky to have suffered this bruise.  Does it sound like I'm grasping for straws? I find it somewhat comforting to think I avoided a worse outcome that day I slipped off a board and hit the deck.  

Blood Hollow

My book club read Blood Hollow by William Kent Krueger.    Earlier this summer we read another book by the same author and we compared the two novels.  This author lives in St. Paul and this story is based in a small town on the Iron Range of Minnesota.  This book is a mystery.  And mysteries are not my favorite. I don't like the planting of clues and red herrings.  This mystery book was different.  Instead of leading you to suspect many characters, this author led us to suspect one character at a time.  At first we're sure it's the chief of police.  Then he is innocent of murder but not other things.  Then we suspect the Catholic priest and then we don't.  Next we suspect the father of the victim and then we don't although.  Turns out the murderer is, well, I've probably already said too much.  You might want to read this story for yourself because it was an entertaining read.  The story is complicated; a mixture of very wounded sick people and healthy, loving families.  As always our discussion was lively and stimulating.  Even though I wasn't feeling the best and had to sit in those small plastic child-sized school chairs, the time flew by and I was glad I went. 

Sounds of the Seasons

I'm not talking Christmas seasons. I am talking about the fall, winter, spring and summer seasons.  My neighbor opened my ears to it.  The nights are so loud in our neighborhood.  I open the deck door to listen and the buzzing of insects is almost overwhelming.  I can't identify any frogs in the mix although towards dawn I did hear an American Toad singing his love song.  I think what I am hearing is crickets; many, many crickets.  I wouldn't think it's all crickets.  Other insects must make noises as well.  If I had to summarize the sounds of the seasons in a few words fall would be crickets, winter would be quiet, cardinals and chickadees, spring would be red winged blackbirds, owls and frogs, and summer would be frogs, fireworks and birds.  Before we know it all will be quiet again.  Snow will blanket the landscape and soak up all the extraneous sounds.  Enjoy the sound of crickets while you can.

Blessed

My neighbor asked me if I wanted to watch her Netflix movie, "The Hobbit."  I said I would and told her I was back on the couch recovering from shin surgery. Soon she is at the door, movie in hand. In her other hand she has a baggie of fresh cashews.  She told me the cashews were medicine for me because I needed protein to heal.  Next thing she says is that she will be back in the evening to wheel my garbage and recycling out to the street.  What a nice neighbor I have.  I am truly blessed.

Temptations

Have you ever been tempted to do something that you know would not be good for you?  I've got a temptation right now that I am fighting.  So far I am resisting pretty well.  What I want to do, and shouldn't do, is look at my leg.  It doesn't really sound like such a bad thing but in my case, it would be better, in fact, medically prescribed, not to look.  My right shin was still giving me trouble.  My doc gave me two options.  First option was to have debridement surgery and I would heal in 10-14 days.  Second option is to not have surgery and wait 6 to 8 more weeks for it to heal.  Since I've been dealing with this for two months now I chose the 10-14 day option.  So I had minor, outpatient surgery yesterday.  It was really no big deal.  I had propofol, the same drug Michael Jackson took to go to sleep. Unlike Michael, I feel fine today.  Well, honestly I feel a little bit altered but mostly fine.  The doc removed all the old, tarry congealed blood, removed the icky stuff, put in a drain, and sewed the hole shut.  Then he wrapped it in some kind of cotton sleeve and wrapped it in a tight ace wrap.  And he said don't peek until he unwraps it on the office on Wednesday.  I have no idea what the scar looks like and I am curious.  If I remove the wrap the sleeve covers it anyway. Besides that would give my leg a chance to swell which would not be good.  So I won't peek.  Offspring #2 is worried I will peek.  On the phone yesterday, totally off the cuff, she gave me two ideas to keep me from peeking. I am totally impressed with her quick creativity.  Make a paper chain, she said, one chain for each day.  Remove one link each day and if you peek you have to eat the rest of the paper chain.  I made a paper chain.  Her second idea is to draw a picture of what I think my leg looks like. Above is a photo of what I hope my leg looks like.  I know I will have a 3 or 4 inch incision but I really can't picture it.  I'm dying to know.  But I won't look.  As of next week, I'll be seeing it all to often I am sure.  Before the surgery I was changing my dressing every couple hours.  Not being able to see it for 5 days is a big change in routine.  I've got all kinds of extra time on my hands now.  I could quit smoking cigarettes 31 years ago. So I can keep from peeking until Wednesday.

The Ringer

My kindly neighbors lent me a copy of The Ringer by Bill Scheft.  On the cover is a quote from David Letterman that says, "If you don't enjoy this book, there is something wrong with you."  What is that, a challenge?  Turns out Bill Scheft is one of the writers on the Letterman show.  A few segments of the book were funny.  Some of the humor was urban, New York humor and it went right over my head.  All the sports humor (golf and baseball mostly) went over my head.  And jokes about aging, ill old men, well, I just don't find those to be so funny.  The story is about Uncle Mort (the aging, ill old man who used to be a national sports writer) and CB (short for college boy, Uncle Mort's nephew who steals from Mort's medicine cabinet, takes relatively good care of his uncle, but has yet to grow up despite being in his mid-thirties).  The book is all manly humor, fast paced, and a little difficult to follow.  Sometimes as a reader I just need to keep plowing through and hope I get back on track after a couple paragraphs or pages.  The book was kinda funny; good enough to keep my mind occupied as I spent time on the recumbent bicycle.

Impressions of Columbia

Things in Columbia, South Carolina were a little different than Minnesota.  Instead of bumper stickers that say, "Go Vikings!"  or "Go Twins!" the bumper stickers read, "Go Cocks!"  At first I thought I read it wrong but no, the bumper stickers, flags and tshirts say Cocks.  The University of South Carolina mascot is the "Gamecock."  Evidently a military leader from South Carolina during the revolutionary war was not only short but full of fierce fighting moves and that is where the gamecock moniker came from.  Many of the houses in Columbia were made of brick and they had lots of large verandas.  I like verandas.  The hills were gently rolling and the creeks were scenic.  We found frogs in the creek that were larger than my entire hand but they moved so quickly we couldn't get a photo or a good look at them.  We didn't see any snakes but we did see a salamander.  We saw one deer on our travels.  We saw some art downtown including a very large fire hydrant.  At the bottom of the hydrant, just above the three red diagonal lines is a little sign with the outline of a dog with a line through it.  The stop lights were sometimes different and sometimes the same.  Most of them had 3 lights; one red, one yellow and one green.  But some of them had 5 lights.  I'd pull up to a stop light, notice the five options, and wonder what the heck?  I think there was one red light, two yellow lights (one straight and one for left turns) and two green lights (one for straight and one for left turns).  But I'm really not sure about that because I'd immediately start to drive away when the lights turned before I could study them.  People in Columbia had a definite southern drawl and I was told several times that I talked funny.  We heard "ya'll" quite often and even started using it ourselves.  We stopped at a Waffle House for lunch one day and I had grits.  They're really not so bad when you mix then with poached eggs as I did but even so I ate only half of the grits.  One evening we had take-out pizza.  On the menu was "congealed salad."  I had to ask what congealed salad was.  Turns out it's jello with fruit bits mixed in it.  Doesn't jello salad sound more appetizing than congealed salad?  Another difference between Minnesota and South Carolina were the cicadas.  When it gets hot we have insects that buzz loudly.  But South Carolina bugs buzz louder and in a more metallic sound.  When we passed some insects in a grassy island between the lanes I seriously thought my brakes were squeaking.   All in all, Columbia is a very nice town.  I believe Fort Jackson is the largest employer and the main economic factor.  Could I relocate to Columbia some day?  I think it's a definite possibility.

Fox In The Henhouse or Meredith Gets Embarrassed

The time?  4:45 a.m.  The location?  Inside the chicken coop.  The first indication of a problem?  Meredith screaming bloody murder.  I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.  Away to the window I flew like a flash; tore open the shutters and threw up the sash. "Get outta here!"  I yelled.  Suddenly I heard Offspring #2 say, "What is going on?"  ِAs I threw on a robe I could barely detect the outline of a fox INSIDE the chicken run.  I turned on the kitchen light, opened the deck, turned on the deck light and saw the outline of a fox inside the run while Meredith flew up and threw herself against the sides of the run in her panic.  "There is a fox inside the chicken coop!"  I yelled.  Offspring #2 hurried down the deck steps which was dangerous because of the rain making it slippery plus the fact that two steps are not screwed down yet.  As I shined a flashlight on the situation from the deck, she opened the door of the chicken coop.  I could see the fox was not in the run anymore so he had to be inside the coop.  Meredith was still in the run and in a panicked condition.  We waited an extra long minute.  Even though it was dark we could see the outline of the fox as it burst out of that coop and sprinted to the east as fast as his foxy legs could carry him.  We shut the door of the coop.  With the flashlight we counted five chickens, bid them goodnight, admired the stars and the sliver of the moon and went to bed.  In the morning we assessed the situation again.  Meredith was the only chicken who was injured.  All her tail feathers were gone and we could see the shape of her tail.  She was, mmmmm, bare a$$ed.  She sat still more than usual but when she walked she seemed to be fine.  She had a small amount of dried blood on her rear.  Poor Meredith.  In her chicken life of five years she has been through it.  Attacked by a miniature pincher, lost in the snow for 10 days in October, grabbed by a fox, how much does one chick have to take?  We  investigated the situation and figured out how the fox got in.  The coop is 4 inches off the ground and a board leans against the front legs so the chickens cannot escape under the house.  The fox pushed that board forward, got into the run, and walked right into the chicken coop.  I need that board to be moveable because I move the coop and the run to a new spot of grass each week.  We used a couple bricks to prevent the fox from pushing that board forward again.  We turned the coop so that the door faces the house.  This way I can see both sides of the run more easily and the fox can't hide behind the fencing.  We cleaned out the coop, put in fresh bedding, and offered the chickens a treat of black sunflower seeds and cucumber.  And then we practiced our defense.  We set 3 cans on a board about a fox height from the ground and shot the cans with my new slingshot and fringed white oak acorns until the cans were dented.  Sometimes those cans flew up in the air and did triple flips before landing in the grass.  I learned that my shots were more accurate and powerful when I mentally trash talked the fox as I shot.  (That's for hurting my Meredith red fox!  Thanks for waking me up at 4:45 this morning!  You're the reason I can't make a quiche this weekend even though I have ALL the ingredients except eggs!)  Is this the end of the fox/chicken conflict?  Well, I'm not sure.  But I'm hopeful. 

Give A 10 Year Old Your Camera And Get Great Pictures

I laughed out loud on the plane when I got my camera back.  He took a "selfie."