The neighbor came knocking on the door a few days ago. He needed me to take digital photos of a booth he was building for a local pizza place.
I took the photos then he asked "Would you sit there and eat pizza?"
"No".... Then I tried to fit into the booth - it was a tight squeeze. "I'm not the largest person around."
Somehow, in his calculations, he had forgotten that not everyone is the same size he is. Fortunately, he had constructed the booth in such a way it was easily dismantled and adjusted.
I just spent most of a week traveling with my sisters, we stayed at 3 different motels, 3 different chains. Only the last one, Super 8, had chairs that comfortably fit me.
Even doctor's offices have a lack of seating that will comfortable fit a plus-size person. I'm well aware the decorators that purchase the furniture are not connected to the doctors, but they need to be more aware of this issue.
Okay, I realize that earlier in this blog I went off on Dairy Queen.... Now I'm picking on motels and doctors offices. But the problem is everywhere.
Maybe we need a "Be Kind To The Fluffy" week to raise awareness?
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Decoration Day
That's what I grew up hearing - "Decoration Day". I asked Daddy what Memorial Day was and he explained it was what people called Decoration Day.
Decoration Day was the day the cemeteries should all be mowed, trimmed, old flowers cleaned off of the graves and replaced with new ones.
It is - Springtime in the cemetery. Time for renewal (which might sound silly to some) and a general "spruce up" of the burial grounds.
I know, it started out as a day to decorate the graves of Confederate veterans - and now as "Memorial Day" it is considered a day to honor all veterans. But I'm a bit Southern; and as a Southern woman, I reserve the right to fuss over cemeteries.
Some may ask why anyone would bother with cemetery maintenance.
We humans have an innate need to connect to our past - to know where we came from. Perhaps to give us a more grounded feel for where we are going.
Some may think me morbid, but others, I know, will understand what I am saying.
Many years ago, in the early 1980's, I went for a walk every evening. My first husband and I lived in Memphis, TN and I followed a street back to a long-deserted cul de sac and followed the broken sidewalk around the loop back home. I began to smell gas on my walk so I called the appropriate city office to report it. The next day the road was closed - a major gas leak was found and during the excavation an old cemetery was also re-discovered.
It makes you stop and think. Did the people there have no descendants? How, exactly, is one "lost" to time?
I know, people move and don't bother (or maybe they are/were unable) to write back to loved ones and tell of their whereabouts. Many things happen in this world that separate loved ones. I've been known to drop off of the face of the Earth myself.
The cemetery at our church has 2 "mystery" graves - one headstone simply says "Little Girl", the other says "The Stranger"...
They were both unknown to us until last year when a lady in the community died and her husband ordered a double headstone for them, and smaller ones for Little Girl and Stranger.
It seems that back in the 1880's a wagon train was moving through this area and the people were sick - one little girl died and she was buried in our church cemetery. Her name has been lost to time and once in a while I search out and read historical notes - hoping to perhaps read an account from this wagon train and maybe find out a name for this little girl. I know that her momma and daddy undoubtedly mourned her passing - for as long as they lived. In their honor, and in honor of the sacrifices these early pioneers made to explore and open this great country we live in, we keep her grave neat and this year we planted some daffodils on her grave.
The Stranger has a different story. In the 1920's, here in Dallas County, MO, there were several "squatters' shacks" in the area. Stranger was found dead in one of these shacks - searches of the man and his shack turned up absolutely nothing in the way of identification. He was wrapped in a sheet and laid to rest next to Little Girl. This spring, we also planted daffodils on his grave.
I'm positive that somewhere Stranger also had family - maybe he was a husband and father who came to this area to make enough money to send for his family. Perhaps he was a brother of a family who came here looking for a way to help his parents and siblings.
We will probably never know. But they were living, breathing people whoever they were. Lost souls? Maybe. But they are being remembered. Their final resting places are now marked and we can only hope future generations will do the same.
I know I do my best to make sure others are aware of the stories, such as they are, will be handed down.
Decoration Day was the day the cemeteries should all be mowed, trimmed, old flowers cleaned off of the graves and replaced with new ones.
It is - Springtime in the cemetery. Time for renewal (which might sound silly to some) and a general "spruce up" of the burial grounds.
I know, it started out as a day to decorate the graves of Confederate veterans - and now as "Memorial Day" it is considered a day to honor all veterans. But I'm a bit Southern; and as a Southern woman, I reserve the right to fuss over cemeteries.
Some may ask why anyone would bother with cemetery maintenance.
We humans have an innate need to connect to our past - to know where we came from. Perhaps to give us a more grounded feel for where we are going.
Some may think me morbid, but others, I know, will understand what I am saying.
Many years ago, in the early 1980's, I went for a walk every evening. My first husband and I lived in Memphis, TN and I followed a street back to a long-deserted cul de sac and followed the broken sidewalk around the loop back home. I began to smell gas on my walk so I called the appropriate city office to report it. The next day the road was closed - a major gas leak was found and during the excavation an old cemetery was also re-discovered.
It makes you stop and think. Did the people there have no descendants? How, exactly, is one "lost" to time?
I know, people move and don't bother (or maybe they are/were unable) to write back to loved ones and tell of their whereabouts. Many things happen in this world that separate loved ones. I've been known to drop off of the face of the Earth myself.
The cemetery at our church has 2 "mystery" graves - one headstone simply says "Little Girl", the other says "The Stranger"...
They were both unknown to us until last year when a lady in the community died and her husband ordered a double headstone for them, and smaller ones for Little Girl and Stranger.
It seems that back in the 1880's a wagon train was moving through this area and the people were sick - one little girl died and she was buried in our church cemetery. Her name has been lost to time and once in a while I search out and read historical notes - hoping to perhaps read an account from this wagon train and maybe find out a name for this little girl. I know that her momma and daddy undoubtedly mourned her passing - for as long as they lived. In their honor, and in honor of the sacrifices these early pioneers made to explore and open this great country we live in, we keep her grave neat and this year we planted some daffodils on her grave.
The Stranger has a different story. In the 1920's, here in Dallas County, MO, there were several "squatters' shacks" in the area. Stranger was found dead in one of these shacks - searches of the man and his shack turned up absolutely nothing in the way of identification. He was wrapped in a sheet and laid to rest next to Little Girl. This spring, we also planted daffodils on his grave.
I'm positive that somewhere Stranger also had family - maybe he was a husband and father who came to this area to make enough money to send for his family. Perhaps he was a brother of a family who came here looking for a way to help his parents and siblings.
We will probably never know. But they were living, breathing people whoever they were. Lost souls? Maybe. But they are being remembered. Their final resting places are now marked and we can only hope future generations will do the same.
I know I do my best to make sure others are aware of the stories, such as they are, will be handed down.
Saturday, April 4, 2009
Times Are Tough ALL Over
I can especially see it in the thrift stores the last few times we have been in them.
Usually when we got to Springfield we visit a few. Sometimes looking for something specific, sometimes just to see what they have.
Yesterday we were in one of our favorites for Hubby to look at some jeans. I wandered around to see what they had - I'm nosy...
I spotted a great-looking Targus laptop case - black leather, many compartments - it was marked $2.59 and I was opening each compartment to check it out. As I opened one of the Velcro compartments with a "RRRIIIPPPP!!" this elderly gentleman (I use that term loosely!) stepped around the corner and announced "THAT is MINE!! I SAW IT!!" and he grabbed it out of my hands. "MY projector fits right here and my laptop goes right here!" And off he went. Proudly carrying the wonderful bag.
Well, perhaps I should have stood my ground. On the other hand, if he wanted it bad enough to snatch it from my hands I would have felt pretty stupid wrestling an old man to the floor right in the Thrift Store For The Blind.
And I probably had 175 pounds on the guy.
Okay - maybe he wasn't too sharp...
Usually when we got to Springfield we visit a few. Sometimes looking for something specific, sometimes just to see what they have.
Yesterday we were in one of our favorites for Hubby to look at some jeans. I wandered around to see what they had - I'm nosy...
I spotted a great-looking Targus laptop case - black leather, many compartments - it was marked $2.59 and I was opening each compartment to check it out. As I opened one of the Velcro compartments with a "RRRIIIPPPP!!" this elderly gentleman (I use that term loosely!) stepped around the corner and announced "THAT is MINE!! I SAW IT!!" and he grabbed it out of my hands. "MY projector fits right here and my laptop goes right here!" And off he went. Proudly carrying the wonderful bag.
Well, perhaps I should have stood my ground. On the other hand, if he wanted it bad enough to snatch it from my hands I would have felt pretty stupid wrestling an old man to the floor right in the Thrift Store For The Blind.
And I probably had 175 pounds on the guy.
Okay - maybe he wasn't too sharp...
Friday, April 3, 2009
It's a Spring Thing
Insomnia. Yes, I get it at other times of the year, but this year the allergies are really starting to get me. I lie down and my head hurts from congestion. I get out of bed and sit up for a while, either drinking hot tea or maybe just writing for a while, and it improves.
So I go back to bed. After all, it is only 3AM, why not go back to bed?
I will be back up within a half hour, head still hurting.
I went through this last night and this morning, and was still miserable when I got up this morning.
Thankfully, Hubby slept through most of it. Although, he seemed to think I was up most of the night.
On the other hand, these Ozark hills are blooming and beautiful. You can see the former old homesteads by the lush lilac bushes and Daffodils coming up in otherwise strange places.
We have been here since 2004 and still every spring will bring a surprise or two since this place has been here for so long.
I know that eventually Spring will give way to the long, hot days of Summer and those days will run me into the house and the air conditioner. I know Autumn will come and bring a whole different set of allergens. Then the cold of winter will be here for a while before Spring once more bursts forth.
They all have the good and bad. I am a bit hard put to pick a favorite. But probably I enjoy the feeling of walking through "green kool-aid" I get sometimes when I step into the heavily wooded area around my house. I can smell the lilacs, I can listen to the birds, I can enjoy the sight of the flowers and the buds on the trees, and know there's always more to look forward to around the corner.
So I go back to bed. After all, it is only 3AM, why not go back to bed?
I will be back up within a half hour, head still hurting.
I went through this last night and this morning, and was still miserable when I got up this morning.
Thankfully, Hubby slept through most of it. Although, he seemed to think I was up most of the night.
On the other hand, these Ozark hills are blooming and beautiful. You can see the former old homesteads by the lush lilac bushes and Daffodils coming up in otherwise strange places.
We have been here since 2004 and still every spring will bring a surprise or two since this place has been here for so long.
I know that eventually Spring will give way to the long, hot days of Summer and those days will run me into the house and the air conditioner. I know Autumn will come and bring a whole different set of allergens. Then the cold of winter will be here for a while before Spring once more bursts forth.
They all have the good and bad. I am a bit hard put to pick a favorite. But probably I enjoy the feeling of walking through "green kool-aid" I get sometimes when I step into the heavily wooded area around my house. I can smell the lilacs, I can listen to the birds, I can enjoy the sight of the flowers and the buds on the trees, and know there's always more to look forward to around the corner.
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
He's Obviously from Washington
Today I got a bill from Aetna for my Medicare Part D plan. $29.10 per month was supposed to be deducted from my Social Security check each month to cover the premium but somehow Aetna missed the boat and now sends me a bill for $116 and change - they thoughtfully, no doubt for my convenience, added on the April premium too.
So I called them to find out why the premium was not being deducted. They said I had not signed up for it and I asked if I could do so. No, not until I have a zero balance; but I was welcome to make a partial payment and the young man let me know how terribly generous they were....
Aetna: We also can deduct from your bank account so it won't come out of your Social Security.
Me: The only income we have in this house is from Social Security, so, ultimately it will come out of my Social Security.
Aetna: You could also put it on your credit card, that way, it won't affect your bank account either!
Me: Well, even if I put it on a credit card, it would still come out of my Social Security.
By now, it was getting a bit entertaining so I carried the phone in to Hubby's computer room so he could enjoy too....
Aetna: Oh, no! No, ma'am... if it was put on a credit card or deducted from your bank account it has absolutely no bearing on any money you get from Social Security.
Me: Okay, Social Security is the only income we have so any way I go about it - it will come from Social Security.
Aetna: No, absolutely not!
Me: You're from Washington, aren't you?
So I called them to find out why the premium was not being deducted. They said I had not signed up for it and I asked if I could do so. No, not until I have a zero balance; but I was welcome to make a partial payment and the young man let me know how terribly generous they were....
Aetna: We also can deduct from your bank account so it won't come out of your Social Security.
Me: The only income we have in this house is from Social Security, so, ultimately it will come out of my Social Security.
Aetna: You could also put it on your credit card, that way, it won't affect your bank account either!
Me: Well, even if I put it on a credit card, it would still come out of my Social Security.
By now, it was getting a bit entertaining so I carried the phone in to Hubby's computer room so he could enjoy too....
Aetna: Oh, no! No, ma'am... if it was put on a credit card or deducted from your bank account it has absolutely no bearing on any money you get from Social Security.
Me: Okay, Social Security is the only income we have so any way I go about it - it will come from Social Security.
Aetna: No, absolutely not!
Me: You're from Washington, aren't you?
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
The Butter Dilemma
It was a nice morning and I was in need of some onions to put in the 15-bean soup I was making for this evening's HopeKeepers meeting so Hubby and I decided to go out for breakfast, that way I wouldn't be making a trip to "town" for just one item.
We debated where to eat as we drove the 8 miles to town and decided to eat at one of the older, full service places instead of a fast-food establishment. It left us with 3 choices: Breakfast Nook, Simms, and Time Out Cafe.
Breakfast Nook has an omelet Hubby is very fond of, but they have a smoking section... More often than not, the desire for smoke free air outweighs the desire for the omelet - and since they are about 25% pricier than the other places they lose out more often than not.
Time Out Cafe has a great breakfast - and it is breakfast anytime - but they don't seem to have comfortable seating anywhere in the place. Plus trying to pay your check to get out of there is very unhandy. However, they have great carry out service and a lot of times on our way home from church I call in a take out order and we pick it up and bring it home.
So we went to Simms. Sat down in a booth, and looked over the menu. Hubby ordered an omelet, I ordered 2 eggs, scrambled - well done, with hash browns, bacon and whole wheat toast.
There was only one other table occupied when we went in - very unusual - to say the least. Normally at 8:30 AM on any day of the week the place is a bit crowded. Not today.
The waitress brought me a cup of coffee that tasted like they had brewed and re-brewed the same grounds for a few days, the non-dairy creamer I was given didn't do a thing to redeem it - it had a slight taste of diesel fuel. (uhmmm, yeah, I DO know what it tastes like!)
But the hash browns were perfectly crispy, my eggs were nice and done and the bacon was great. Then I took a bite of the toast. They had served me dry toast!
Why, WHY in the world would a restaurant serve dry toast?
Then comes one of those Great Debates....
Do I, as an almost-300 pound woman, ask for butter? Hmmm.....
I didn't.
We debated where to eat as we drove the 8 miles to town and decided to eat at one of the older, full service places instead of a fast-food establishment. It left us with 3 choices: Breakfast Nook, Simms, and Time Out Cafe.
Breakfast Nook has an omelet Hubby is very fond of, but they have a smoking section... More often than not, the desire for smoke free air outweighs the desire for the omelet - and since they are about 25% pricier than the other places they lose out more often than not.
Time Out Cafe has a great breakfast - and it is breakfast anytime - but they don't seem to have comfortable seating anywhere in the place. Plus trying to pay your check to get out of there is very unhandy. However, they have great carry out service and a lot of times on our way home from church I call in a take out order and we pick it up and bring it home.
So we went to Simms. Sat down in a booth, and looked over the menu. Hubby ordered an omelet, I ordered 2 eggs, scrambled - well done, with hash browns, bacon and whole wheat toast.
There was only one other table occupied when we went in - very unusual - to say the least. Normally at 8:30 AM on any day of the week the place is a bit crowded. Not today.
The waitress brought me a cup of coffee that tasted like they had brewed and re-brewed the same grounds for a few days, the non-dairy creamer I was given didn't do a thing to redeem it - it had a slight taste of diesel fuel. (uhmmm, yeah, I DO know what it tastes like!)
But the hash browns were perfectly crispy, my eggs were nice and done and the bacon was great. Then I took a bite of the toast. They had served me dry toast!
Why, WHY in the world would a restaurant serve dry toast?
Then comes one of those Great Debates....
Do I, as an almost-300 pound woman, ask for butter? Hmmm.....
I didn't.
Monday, January 12, 2009
Tattletale!!
"Maaammmaaaa!!!!!! The mean goats escaped! They're scaring away all the birdies!!"
"Bad goats... BAAADDDDD GOATS!!"
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
