Happiness Can Be Many Things

Boreal Wings Gala

Suppose you were at a place in your life where you had a full year of free time and an extra $100,000 of pocket money.  What would you do?  Would you travel?  I would.  But I would not travel like Olaf Danielson who just completed a "big year." For those that don't know, a big year is chasing down birds all across the continent so you can win the  honor of seeing the biggest number of birds.  It's a numbers game.  Birding is involved but the objective is the longest list.  This gala was to support the Sax Zim bog which is an important birding area in Minnesota in the middle of nowhere about 45 minutes north of Duluth.  It's a cool place. I've been there.  And I support their cause of saving big tracts of black spruce from logging so birds and mammals and dragonflies and all sorts of creatures can relax.  I enjoyed Olaf's discussion.  He can list off bird names and places with uncanny ability but still has the social skills to poke fun of himself in a very funny manner.  His description of the misery of travel to obscure places, the lack of basic necessities, the poor food, the danger, the weather, the odd people had enough detail to make me vow to never, ever, do a big year myself.

Vinegar Girl

A publisher tries to sell more books by asking famous authors to rewrite a Shakespearean play of their choosing.  Is this a publicity ploy or really in honor of the 400th anniversary of Shakespeare's death?  In any case, Vinegar Girl is Anne Tyler's retelling of The Taming Of The Shrew.  I am a big fan of Anne Tyler.  I like her characters because they are so complicated and sensitive. She retells the story in a very funny fashion and with great imagination.  Unlike the play, this "shrew" isn't tamed by some male figure.  Kate is too strong of a woman to be tamed by someone else.  She decides to dial back on the sarcastic comments after her employer urges her to use "restraint, tact, and diplomacy."  Frankly, with what some of the other characters say to Kate, sarcasm would be a healthy response. I really enjoy Tyler's skill at character development and I really enjoyed reading Vinegar Girl.

Some Peace And Beauty Today

Driving to Monticello Swan Park to meet a friend today I saw six beautiful trumpeter swans fly over Highway 39 right above my car.  I thought to myself, "Angels!"  Their sleek white bodies with long necks and powerful wings represent angels to me.

Some of the angels at Swan Park appear to be taking an afternoon snooze.

There was a lot of noise at Swan Park.  Naturally the trumpeter swans made the most noise. In second place were the mallards.  Coming in third in the noise department today were (and they're no slouch) the Canadian Geese.

Close Call(s)

I am getting nervous because in the last month I have witnessed 5 car accidents.  Some were fender benders on icy roads.  One was a fender bender due to distraction.  Today was the worst and the roads were dry and the sky was sunny.  I was heading west on Highway 10 at about the noon hour. A small car was slow to merge from Main Street so I slowed down to let them in.  Mentally I encouraged the driver by saying, "Step on it Martha!"  But the car was slow to accelerate.  At Round Lake another car was trying to merge in and this driver (who I just helped) wasn't returning the favor to the next motorist to merge in.  I don't think the driver was paying attention.  At the last minute it did notice and quickly moved to the left lane.  In the left lane was a fast car.  I estimate it was going over 80 miles per hour.  And that would have been acceptable if it was paying attention to the little car that was suddenly in it's path.  I hold my breath because the speeder is not slowing down at all.  I just know an accident is about to happen.  I hate knowing accidents are inevitable. Adrenalin floods my system and my guts sort of melt together. Just before impact the speeder sees the little car and slams on the brake and veers into the median.  The speeding car is going so fast it takes out about 15 posts that hold up the restraining cables.  Each post flies up about 10 feet into the air and lands in the fast lane.  I slow down and move to the shoulder.  The little car who almost got rear ended moves to the slow lane and drives away like nothing happened.  At the 15th post the car had moved into the cable enough that a post could stop it.  The car hit the post and spun violently to the left.  For a couple seconds it moved into the median.  Those cables gave and like a giant metal slingshot it pushed the car out of the ditch, back end leading, into the fast lane again. Actually it went a little bit past the fast lane into the slow lane right where I would have been if I had not been on the shoulder.  Oh, that was close.  I am driving the company car and I forgot my cell phone.  Cars behind me stop to help so I keep driving to my meeting.  Oh, my, I got there safe.  My defensive driving skills came in handy again. 

Tough Week

This week has been a tough week.  I mean, Saturday, well, Saturday was great. Sunday was also fine.  But the political comments I hear at work have forced me to bite my tongue so hard, I mean SO HARD, it hurts.  If I was an eloquent and poised person it would be different.  I am definitely not an eloquent and poised person once I hear political comments. At other times, if I'm not riled up, I can be poised and even witty.  But when I am upset, I am linguistically useless. Frankly I don't know how Hilary did it. My response to those sexist comments would have killed my campaign right from the start.  The thing is, politics can make my blood actually boil.  I have a physical reaction to rhetoric that seems to be out of my control.  My blood boils, adrenaline floods my system, and my verbal expressive skills revert to a kindergarten level.  Twice this week, upon hearing the comments of my coworkers about Donald Trump, I had to quickly bite my tongue, try not to choke, wrap up my lunch, get the hell out of Dodge while keeping up the impression that I am in a hurry because I have things to do.  Today it was a parent mouthing off about the affordable care act.  I bite my tongue.  I want to keep my job.  I want to keep relations friendly.  But you know, it's tough.  I am almost to the point of wearing a pink (I can't even say it aloud) hat.  I fear thought, my pink hat with ears, would result in my hearing more political comments instead of less.  Oh, Anoka County is a lonely place for people like me.

Caleb's Crossing

When I grabbed Caleb's Crossing off the shelf at the library I didn't realize it was the Puritans who lived on Martha's Vineyard during the 1660's.  At first words like alas and  mislike put me off.  As I heard the story told by Bethia, a adolescent girl who struggles to find her way in a society that represses women and is fond of harsh punishment, I got used to her words.  This was a really gripping story about the Pilgrims and the Indians, about American history, about surviving on an island in the Atlantic, about the Puritan faith and the Native American beliefs.  This book was so good I mourned coming to the last chapter.

Flew The Coop!

I came home from the Women's March on Saturday tired, stiff, ready for a cup of tea and time to reflect on this very unusual day.  I glanced at the coop and my plans had changed.  I saw one Americauna chicken outside the coop and she was crying loudly.  Her feathers were wet and she was crying.  I decide that as long as I was dressed for the weather, I might as well spend some time cleaning the coop and making everything nice for my future egg layers.  When I got out there I saw that not only that one Americauna had left the coop but also a Cuckoo Maran and another Americauna.  The other two were more quiet.  How did they fly the coop?  I saw that a hole, once caused by a warming light and I will never use that again, and blocked by a thick leather mitten, had lost it's mitten.  So three chickens escaped from a hole above the door that is 3.5 inches wide and four inches long.  It had to be a tight squeeze to get out of there. I believe they stood on the top of the food dish before flying the coop.  So I, cool chicken rancher that I profess to be, am all casual about it.  I open the door.  All the chickens can leave the coop if they want to.  Only Chickenson Caruso, my old and learned Buff Orpington takes me up on my offer.  I scrape out 3 huge buckets of chicken manure and add to my compost piles.  Wow.  Pungent.  I fill the food bucket (to entice the four loose chickens back in).  Three of them go in, lead by the senior Chickenson Caruso, the open door but the loud and crying Americauna (shown on top of the run above) does not go in.  She thinks that if she keeps walking by the run and crying suddenly a door will appear and she can go home. Although her choice has not worked for 200 times, she thinks the next time will be different.  I add a bunch of fresh wood chips to the coop. Really, the coop hasn't been this clean and fresh since November.  The loud and crying Americauna continues to pace back and forth, back and forth.  She is the very definition of insanity.  I try to encourage her past her usual route toward the open door.  She wants nothing to do with that.  She is so upset.  Still crying she continues to pace even though she has to step over my booted foot. So I pick her up and put her in the run.  She is not happy.  Not happy doesn't describe her outrage.  She is crying bloody murder.  I lower her gently into the run.  She continues to cry even though she got what she wanted.  In thirty seconds her cries decrease in volume and after a full minute she stops crying. Golly, chicken drama!

Toenails and Fingernails!

I sit at home knitting a baby blanket for my second grandchild. I had an elaborate plan.  I downloaded the directions to a knitting pattern they claimed was simple.  But once I got the first row on and realized I would have to count to 17 for the next four months I ditched that pattern and went with "Knit five, pearl to all but five left and knit five"  For some reason I can pearl much faster than I can knit.  I sit and I knit trying to get a few rows in every day.  As I knit the blanket grows ever so slowly while I think about my daughter-in-law.  What she is doing is so amazing compared to my knitting.  While not only growing her ten fingernails and toenails she is growing another set of fingernails and toenails!  That makes 20 toenails and 20 fingernails!  Then I think of my sister who had twins.  She grew 30 fingernails and toenails!  Women are miraculous.  Then I think back. Back, way back, to the 1980's when Ronald Reagan was president and Nancy was saying, "Say no to drugs." (What would she think of the gummy bears you can buy in Colorado)?  In any case, twice, I too was growing 20 fingernails and 20 toenails.  Wasn't that just as miraculous as what my daughter-in-law is doing now?  My logical answer is yes but at the time, I was too busy to appreciate the miracle happening within me.

Now THAT Is Funny!

Over the years of having email, I have received plenty of funny emails.  But right now I cannot think of one that is funnier than the one I got today.  Back story - I was corresponding with an old friend, a good friend, a friend with whom I can be relaxed.  We were making plans to see a movie and this is the response I got back from my suggestion and my question if she had seen it yet:

Do you mean Hidden Figures?  If so - no but I would love to see it!  By the way Hidden Treasures is a porn movie!

A Day To Remember

Yesterday I attended the women's march on Washington in Saint Paul. My sibling and I got there extra early so we stood around for a long time.  I saw lots of pink hats with ears.  These hats refer to a comment our President made about grabbing women without consent.  I did not expect to see so many of these hats.  I had no idea there were so many expert knitters in our area.  I can knit.  I can knit a bag or a blanket or a scarf.  I have even made hats.  But a hat with ears if beyond my ability so far.

At almost 11 o;clock the speaker gave us a two minute warning that the march would begin.  At noon we were still standing in the same place.  An expected crowd of 30,000 actually came out to be nearly 100,000.  We had the chance to see many homemade signs.  We would decide if we would or would not feel comfortable holding each sign.  Some were medical in nature depicting the female sexual organs.  I thought one sign was confusing until I realized one of the ovaries was flipping the bird.  SCIENCE IS A THING-I could hold that sign.  I saw lots of signs about reproductive rights and Planned Parenthood.  I saw signs about climate change, education, free speech and inclusion.  I saw some signs that were anti-Trump but those were few and far between.  I saw one sign that read I'M TOO ANXIOUS TO COME UP WITH A CLEVER SIGN.  Four people held one wide sign that depicted the photos of ten American female leaders and that was a cool sign but no fun to walk behind.  One large sign read I KNOW SIGNS. THIS IS THE BEST SIGN EVER.  EVERYBODY THINKS SO. Next to that sign  was another sign that read IT'S A TERRIBLE SIGN. EVERYONE KNOWS IT AND AGREES.

That four person sign is on the left.  About 12:30 we finally got out of the parking lot and onto the street.  My legs were stiff and it felt good to move.  I was happy to see so many people of all ages.

When I am old and confined to a chair, I can think back to this day and be glad I went.

The Thanks I Get

“Nice sweater,” I would say to a coworker over the 18 years we worked together, once in a while, when she had a cute sweater on. She did wear cute sweaters, colorful sweaters, and expensive sweaters.  She wore stuff that I thought I could wear as well.  Last week she asked me, “Would you like some sweaters that I don’t fit in anymore?”  I reply that I would and expected to see three sweaters, six sweaters tops.  The next day I see the giant black plastic bag coming toward my office and think there could be a body in there. This is no ordinary hefty cinch sack. This is a HUGE bag!  This could be the scene from a crime television show; not Cagney and Lacey or 21 Jump Street but it looks like one of those crime scene investigation shows that I never watch because they’re too gory.  Two women (she couldn't drag it alone) drag the bag into my office and thank me for taking the sweaters.  I look inside the bag and see more clothes than I have in my entire closet at home.  I’ll bet there are 100 beautiful, slightly worn sweaters. One still has the tags on it so it was never worn.  Nordic sweaters, fleecy sweaters, sweaters with patterns and sweaters without patterns, a couple light jackets, five turtle necks and one pair of pink/purple patterned capris with pink fringe on the hem.  None of the sweaters fit me. What is my reward for offering this person occasional compliments over the years?  I get a bag of sweaters that is so heavy it has to be dragged and none of them fit. I take the sweaters out of the bag and make four teetering stacks so if people want to look at them they won’t have to take them out of the bag.  Quite a few people help themselves to sweaters for themselves or for relatives.  I still have 80 sweaters left.  A coworker is part of a volunteer committee that makes gloves out of sweaters.  Would I mind if she takes them all?  I want to hug her but don’t.  That would not be appropriate and she wouldn’t like it either.  We bag the sweaters up and away they go.  So dear readers, the lesson is, if you see someone wearing a cute sweater, keep your opinion to yourself!

Inspiration

Wednesday night I walked into a Master Naturalist chapter meeting thinking to myself - oh, it's icy, I could be home drinking wine knitting, my hips hurt, I'm cold, it's dark out.  But our speaker was Sue Leaf, a Minnesota author and suddenly I have new thoughts  such as  I want to  must kayak the Kickapoo River, the Crow Wing river, I want to kayak Minnehaha Creek all the way from Gray's Bay to the Falls, I gotta do it, the summer of 2017 will be great!  Oh, she is inspirational, that Sue Leaf, she really is.  On my way home other thoughts come to mind-do you even know if you can get out of a kayak without assistance? You just had the second hip replaced.  Perhaps it's better that your first kayak trip is in a secluded place where you can roll out of the boat if necessary.  LOL!  How funny how thoughts can turn on a dime.

The Reader

My book club read The Reader by Bernhard Schlink.  As I read it for the meeting I realized not only that I had read it before but had seen the movie version too.  But it was an excellent story so I didn't mind.  Plus, as usual, without the book club discussion, I missed some pretty important facts.  Other people missed them too.  The story illustrates what it was like for the German youth after the end of World War Two.  Politically it is an interesting book to read regarding the war but also the divide between the wealthy and the poor. In this case it is defined  as literate (wealthy) and illiterate (poor).  Our group extended that discussion to moral and immoral.  We didn't think that the poor and illiterate were less moral.  Being illiterate can be such an issue of shame.  Would you confess to terrible acts during war time just to avoid anyone knowing you could not read? Lucky for me I am literate so I will never ever find out. 

Delicious But Messy (All Good Things Come With A Cost)

I asked for and was given a big hunk of Italian Parmesan cheese for the holidays.  I love Parmesan but there remains a limit as to how much Parmesan one person can eat.  I found a recipe for Parmesan potatoes that I used as a guideline.  I changed the amounts and a few of the ingredients.  Wow, these potatoes are delicious!  On the other hand, my oven is a total mess!  Olive oil everywhere. If you have just cleaned your oven - don't make this recipe.  If you are nearing cleaning the oven, definitely, use this recipe and enjoy a savory feast!  Ingredients: one  1 1/2 pound bag of various colored organic fingerling potatoes (the biggest ones I cut in half), 1/4 C. olive oil, salt and pepper to taste, 1/2 cup finely grated Parmesan cheese, 1 TB lemon juice, 1/2 cup chopped fresh parsley, 1 tsp. crushed red pepper.  Method:  Set the oven to 400 degrees.  Wash your potatoes.  Cut the largest ones in half.  In a bowl add the olive oil, the salt, the pepper, and the potatoes. Stir until all the potatoes are covered. Keep that bowl out you will need it again.  Set (warning - this is where the mess comes into play but it is worth the mess because the hot air completely circulates around each potato and makes them taste FANTASTIC!) the potatoes on a rack above a rimmed cookie sheet. The smallest potatoes will fall through onto the cookie sheet and that is okay.  Bake the potatoes for 35 to 40 minutes. While those potatoes are baking, add to the bowl the parsley, the grated Parmesean cheese and the crushed red pepper.  When the potatoes are baked remove them from the rack by pushing them through the rack onto the cookie sheet or using tongs. Add them to the bowl with the cheese and the parsley. Mix thoroughly. Put them taters back in the oven (on the rack or on the cookie sheet depending how soon you plan to clean your oven) and bake at 400 degrees for another 10 minutes. Remove from oven.  Top with lemon juice.  Mix. Enjoy. They're even better the next day at work.  Those browned bits of extra Parmesean cheese?  Ai yi yi!

So Lucky

I am extremely lucky to have the neighbors that I do.  Hearts of gold.  Salt of the earth (which means a nice person even though applying salt to the earth means nothing will grow - never understood that).  These nice neighbors brought me a foreign movie for my three day weekend.  (By the way, if you want a feel good movie rent "Hunt for the Wilderpeople," a foreign film set in New Zealand).  They also brought me my annual holiday card that came with a packet of milkweed seeds.  The card says "Life is beautiful and fleeting.  So you butterfly."  Isn't that awesome?  A gift for me that also helps the environment? Also with that  on what appears to be a handmade piece of paper is a cryptic message that I can't understand (yet).  For these neighbors, I am used to holiday messages that take some time to decipher.  I get one every year.  I look forward to not understanding it right away. One of these two neighbors is retired and has a lot of time to plan their holiday message.  On, and by the way, they are solid Democrats (solid as in party activists and I love them).  On their return address label was an image of a cheese grater and the message, "It will be grate."  So this is my clue the message is about MAGA (make America great again) and Donald Trump.  In case you can't read it, the message says (and keep in mind these are highly literate and intelligent people who know how to spell) "I putin 4verk2 mak me4free can bearing sea anchorplace frm near got to m t dumpster."  What?  This is what I get out of this - I put in for work two make me four free.  Can Bering Sea anchor place from near.  Got to empty dumpster."  I know that makes no sense. Yet I know it makes perfect sense to them.  And I know I can just call and ask them to translate.  I want to suffer with it a little bit longer.  Any ideas?

Hag Seed

I found this book set sideways on the shelf at the library.  That is where the librarians put all the best books.  I grabbed it up cuz, like wow, it was written by Margaret Atwood.   I love Margaret Atwood.  And I loved her book, Hag-Seed.  I didn't know when I picked it up that it was a rewriting of the Shakespeare play, "The Tempest."  The story is complicated like a play within a play within a play.  Felix is the main character and even though he lacks social skills, lives like a hermit, and harbors revenge in his heart is still likable and helpful and an inspiration to others.  Atwood did a marvelous job interpreting "The Tempest," as set inside a Canadian prison.

Huge Milestone Today!

Today I tied my own shoes!  This is huge.  I don't mind wearing slip-on shoes to work or around the house but at the gym, on days I use the treadmill, shoes that tie feel absolutely wondrous.  I wanted to celebrate.  Already a fairly self-indulgent person, how do I do that? Let me say this, Keebler Elves were involved (pecan sandies are the best!).

Warm Bubble of Air

This morning the alarm went off and I groaned. Another cold day ahead.  Another day of wearing long underwear did not sound good.  A light bulb lit up above my head.  I just remembered my warm, woolen skirt bought specifically for cold Minnesota winter days like today.  I got up and found my royal blue skirt.   I removed it from the hangar and the heavy weight of it surprised me.  I put it on.  A warm bubble of air surrounds me from my waist down to almost my ankles.  It's like wearing a heavy wool blanket except it fits at the waist and has a side zipper.  I looked quite stunning this morning in the snow taking care of my chickens in my blue skirt.  I got many compliments at work.  I feel pretty good in my royal blue wool skirt! 

Two Month Anniversary

This morning the alarm goes off at six in the morning. I want to hit snooze but I know I can't because it took more than an hour to get to work on Monday and the commute does not look good for Tuesday. I leave thirty minutes early. I go to work.  I'm only five minutes late. At noon I eat a light lunch and go for a four story walk because it's good for me and because someone with Autism is hoping I'll come by and take him along.  I pick him up and, at the second floor, I give him the choice of doing 4 stories or 2.  Dang it! He chooses 4. "You are a good influence on me, " I huff and puff on the way to the fourth floor. Both of us feel better walking down.  After work I go the gym and lift weights and walk ten minutes on the tread mill.  On the long commute home I'm glad I spent $75 to have the driveway plowed.  I come home. I shovel the side walk. I go to refill my medication set of 7 days and realize that today is January 11th!  Today is my 2 month anniversary.  I refill my plastic sections with vitamins, calcium, iron pills and fish oil and realize that I feel so much better than I did 2 months ago when I had my hip replaced with a titanium replacement! Walking is so easy now. The hip no longer locks up. Every day I feel less pain and discomfort.  Every day I am a little bit more limber.  Every day I can reach a little bit lower.  When I get in and out of my little yellow car I am close to looking normal in the process.  I look forward to the day I can reach low enough to tie my shoes and I know it is in  my near future.

Artistic Parking

Is this artistic parking or merely a precaution in case I have to barrel out of the driveway in case of a snowfall overnight?  I think it's cool enough to 1. take off my boots, 2. find the camera, 3. put the boots on again, and 4. take the camera outside and 5. adjust the contrast on the phot so it actually shows up and 6. post.  You decide.

Taken For Granted

Today when I got to work I learned that the city of Blaine put out an order advising us not to drink the water unless it was boiled.  Water?  No water to drink?  I take water for granted.  Fresh air, water, and freedom have always been constants in my life.  What a strange day.  I had to break my vow not to drink water out of plastic bottles.  I was glad I bring my own coffee from home.  It is possible the water is fine but they didn't know for sure because due to a computer malfunction, the water in the water tower didn't circulate like it should have and contamination may have happened.  It's an odd thing not to have access to clean water.  More accurately, it's an odd thing not to know for sure that I have access to clean water.  You wash your hands in the sink and don't know if you made your hands cleaner or dirtier.  I realized today that I am a lucky person in a way I hadn't realized before. Some people never have access to clean water.  Some people have to haul water out of the river in buckets and hope no crocodiles attack.  All I do is turn on the tap and clean water comes out in both cold and hot varieties.

Winter Sounds

This morning I took care of my hens and carried a week's worth of compost across the yard to dump in my compost pile.  Near the house the path is icy but farther out the snow is easier to walk on.  A week of very cold weather with lots of sunshine has formed a crust on top of the snow.  As I walk my boots sink slightly into the snow and the sound is so crunchy!  The snow sounds like, I don't know how to describe it, but if it were a word it would have several k's, a couple w's, some h's and maybe a couple of r's but definitely no vowels.  The sound of the snow was like someone biting into a very thin shortbread. No, shortbread isn't crunchy enough.  More like a potato chip.  The snow sounds like someone biting into a very crisp, fresh, potato chip.  The  sound was like someone biting one of those very rare potato chips that has bubbled outward in the fat on both sides. I don't know if a potato chip could sound as crunchy as the snow in my back yard was this morning. Just think, some people have never heard that sound; never experienced walking on a crusty snow.  Was I cold out there walking in the crunchy snow?  Yes, but I knew it was a temporary feeling. I knew I would warm up again.  But I did enjoy the sounds I heard.  I wonder why I have a craving for potato chips and shortbread?

Grateful!

Yes, I have been complaining about the weather this week. I wake up in the morning and wonder WHY I have to get up and leave my bed this morning. I had Monday off but yet I complain. Why? My fingers hurt. They hurt despite the face I am wearing fashionable yellow gloves that match my sunglasses (as IF I need those coming or going to work this week!) that match my car that match my yellow house. My fingers hurt so bad I'm thankful I transferred from Diet Pepsi to coffee because coffee in a mug relieves the pain in my fingers from left hand to the right hand depending on which hand is holding the cup.  The fact of the matter is I had great moments at work.  That moment when a client said, "(first name, last name is back to work)" and I think to myself, "I should pay to work here!" That moment, when a coworker explains to me his 2017 vacation plans that include 3 weeks in Israel where he will, with his wife, pick grapes for 4 days a week for 3 weeks rest one day, and tour the local sites for 2 days and I am jealous of his plans.  That day when I make a connections with someone with developmental disabilities and make her smile.  That moment, in an hour discussion of trying to solve a problem, in a discussion 4 other men who are open to new ideas, who accept me as part of the solution, laugh at my idea yet accept it at the same time, I think to myself, "See! You could have retired early but you're still having fun!"  Awwww, cripes, life is good!  My legs are less attractive with long-johns on but life is good!

Major Accomplishment

On Thursday I did something I have not done since November 11, 2016.  I put a sock on my left foot without adaptive equipment.  I was at the gym dressing before going home.  The temperature was 3 degrees Fahrenheit.  The temperature was, no doubt, a contributing factor to my success. The sock kept my foot warmer but it was difficult and painful to get it on.  But still, this is major.  I should celebrate.  How?  Right now I mostly enjoy staying home and keeping warm. Even though I am at work I count down the hours till I can wear pajama pants.  Is it still celebrating if I go home and hibernate when I was going to do that anyway?

Billy Lynn's Long Halftime Walk

Raw, disrespectful, fast-paced and funny as all get out, I really enjoyed Billy Lynn's Long Halftime Walk.  Ben Fountain writes about a squad of Army men whose brave actions where caught by a television camera.  The squad of men are shipped back from Iraq in 2004 for a publicity tour to curry more favor for the war and to possibly strike a movie deal.  Most of the book takes place at a football event in Dallas, Texas.  Billy Lynn is getting a lot of attention because he is from Texas and his heroism was on display on the film.  Billy Lynn is just a kid from a normal family.  He's never been to a football game.  He's never shared a stage with the Dallas Cowboy cheerleaders or Destiny's Child.  Billy Lynn is having trouble comprehending the shock of going from hot, dry, dirty Iraq where his buddy was killed to a halftime show at a football stadium with fireworks and screaming fans.  If you are looking for a book to learn more about the war in Iraq, this isn't it.  If you are looking for a book describing what it is like to be in the armed forces in Iraq and returning to the United States and suffering culture shock I think you will enjoy Billy Lynn's Long Halftime Walk.

Trying To Look At The Bright Side

I find it hard, but I am trying to look at the bright side of today's weather.  An ice storm made the whole area slippery and I almost fell taking care of my hens.  If only the sun were up I could have seen the ice.  My road and the next road was as slippery as an ice rink but I made it to the highway safely.  The highway wasn't as slippery and I was surprised to make it to work on time.  Normally I enjoy a winter challenge of driving but I'm not used to this car yet and there are no real marks on it yet so I was anxious. The parking lot at work was slippery and dark so I walked like a penguin. A friend of mine who lives in Blaine claims to have parked in his driveway by the garage last night only to find his car slid down the slight incline overnight.  When he woke up his car's rear bumper was in the road. Lucky for him no one struck his car. On the bright side I saw sun dogs on the horizon on my way home. I didn't fall on the ice so that was good.  And by the time I got into the swimming pool at the gym my body was so cold it made the pool water feel warm.  I really enjoyed the steam sauna after my swim  Going home without my wool socks and stopping for gas on the way was cold.  Your's truly is too proud to bring my adaptive sock applier to the gym and would rather go home with cold feet than look weak or old.  On the bright side, a few days of cold weather will make me think a 20 degrees Fahrenheit day is balmy.  Also, I don't have to shovel ice or pay to have ice plowed out of my way.

Thrives On Neglect

A friend of mine gave me a cactus.  She said I wanted it. I don't remember saying that.  She told me, "Plant it in your garden."  Seriously?  YOU plant it in my garden.  That thing looks sharp.  How does anyone plant these wickedly sharp plants?  I set it outside and ignored it all summer.  Late in the fall, just before the frost, I casually picked it up and brought it in the house.  And I ignored it some more.  Now, little green growths have appeared.  I guess it likes to be ignored.

New Year, New Project

This project has a due date of April 28th.  That gives me four months to complete it. My goal is do knit one skein in January, another in February, another in March and the last one in April.