I am not certain, but I think I am being pursued by federal agents. I don't recall ever receiving an email from ebay, but there was one this morning -- all in Spanish! Now, I did take Spanish in high school but have even forgotten that questions begin with an upside down questioon mark.
Why would anyone be after me? Could it be because of the ridiculous circumstances that led me to my nom-de-plume for ebay. At the time I signed up for ebay, I was heavily into research for the book I was trying to write. You know the one... Jessie: the story of a genteel lady in frontier Alaska? Daily, I was listening to a taped reading of Charles Dickens's Pickwick Papers. If that 500-plus page tome had not been Jessie's favorite, I would never have attempted reading it. Forgive me; I digress. Let's see; where was I? Ahh, yes! Feds chasing me.
I was trying to register on ebay to purchase a highly recommended book on the Yukon and I was determined to do it on my own. But (as you probably know) every identification I tried had been taken: name? date of birth? name of firstborn grandchild? song titles? every visible item in the room? Finally, I came across one that worked...place of birth (Texas) plus present reading material (pickwick papers). Only problem was that made my i.d. so lengthy. Using my noggin, I abbreviated Texas and removed the word Papers. It was only after the deed was done that I noticed I had somehow dropped the first k in the book title--thus, the invention of txpicwick. So... do you think the g-men think I might be an illegal alien?
I proved my ineptitude in Spanish back a few years ago when John and I visited our son in Venezuela. Angel, the guard/doorman, was trying to tell me something about "esposa" as he pointed to the neighbor's front door. In return I was trying to tell him we were feeding the neighbor's cat while they were away. Not even knowing the word for "cat" or "away," I seem to recall that "casa" and hand motions were my best bet. Finally, he led me to that portal, turned the key in the lock, turned the knob, and opened the door carefully so the cat would not escape, revealing John sitting at a table viewing the city below. Turns out Angel was trying to tell me that my husband (spouse) was locked out of our apartment so he had placed him inside the neighbor's. I guess John could not rouse me from my siesta.
Sunday, October 28, 2007
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
10-20-30, pass it on.....
The following paragraph explaining this blog is copied directly from Patty's:
"An acquaintance in the writing community, Mary DeMuth, is doing a blog experiment to see how far-reaching blogs can be. She tagged 12 people and asked them to tag others to see how far this can go. If you decide to answer her question, either leave it as a comment on this blog or answer it in your blog and link back to hers. (http://www.relevantblog.blogspot.com/)
"The question is, what were you doing 10, 20 and 30 years ago? Here's my response:"
10 years ago:
In 1997, Geoffrey asked if his friend, Jim Fincher, could stay with us for a few days while he located a place to rent for the duration of some extended work with the US Forest Service. Of course, we said yes. Within days, his wife found a lump and needed to see a doctor. Long story, short, Carol and their two children (age 6 years and 5 months) also came to stay with us while she received medical treatment in this area. They stayed in our home for 4 months. Very soon after they moved to their own place, Edwin, Patty and 2-year-old girls came from Togo for their first real furlough. One highlight of that visit was a trip to Cannon Beach for the whole family; another was a family portrait day when David and Paige announced the expectant birth of another Wyatt due in May.
20 years ago:
Who can forget 1987? The year we tearfully said "Goodbye" to Juneau and moved to an area of the country that has roads that connect to other roads that lead to places like our parents' houses. I know, because we tested them several times. And after looking at some 200 houses for sale, we found just the right "country" house with acreage. The very night we signed the papers for that purchase, and the very minute I leaned back and put my feet up, stating, "Now we can relax," was the moment the phone rang. On the other end of the "line" (When's the last time you've heard that term?) were Patty and her fiance announcing they did not want to wait a year to get married; how did December 19 sound? So, while John shopped for a riding lawmower in mid-November and we both looked for furniture, there was always the constant thought of the pending wedding. And it was on the wedding weekend that we tested and coinedd the phrase, "Our dining table seats 13 uncomfortably." And we continue to test that theory to this day.
30 years ago
With my baby Geoffrey startiing kindergarten, I hand-made bread, knitted lots of hats, took classes in cake decorating, had time to read, study, and spend time with the creator of the beautiful land in which we lived. This was the year I met Diane Caldwell, and what one of us did not think to do, the other did. We were partners in room mothering, shopping (I loved to spend her money), took a University class in child nutrition together (Our big project was English Muffin pizza, complete with paint brushes), stood in the snow for hours at the crossroads between our residents, trying to say good bye, ignored warning signs of icy roads and tried to convince our kids we had planned the outing so we could pretend to be Swiss Family Robinson (sea weed IS edible), and giggled a lot.
I pass it on to **Geofrey, **Kay Neathery, and Dian
** Read their response in the comments.
"An acquaintance in the writing community, Mary DeMuth, is doing a blog experiment to see how far-reaching blogs can be. She tagged 12 people and asked them to tag others to see how far this can go. If you decide to answer her question, either leave it as a comment on this blog or answer it in your blog and link back to hers. (http://www.relevantblog.blogspot.com/)
"The question is, what were you doing 10, 20 and 30 years ago? Here's my response:"
10 years ago:
In 1997, Geoffrey asked if his friend, Jim Fincher, could stay with us for a few days while he located a place to rent for the duration of some extended work with the US Forest Service. Of course, we said yes. Within days, his wife found a lump and needed to see a doctor. Long story, short, Carol and their two children (age 6 years and 5 months) also came to stay with us while she received medical treatment in this area. They stayed in our home for 4 months. Very soon after they moved to their own place, Edwin, Patty and 2-year-old girls came from Togo for their first real furlough. One highlight of that visit was a trip to Cannon Beach for the whole family; another was a family portrait day when David and Paige announced the expectant birth of another Wyatt due in May.
20 years ago:
Who can forget 1987? The year we tearfully said "Goodbye" to Juneau and moved to an area of the country that has roads that connect to other roads that lead to places like our parents' houses. I know, because we tested them several times. And after looking at some 200 houses for sale, we found just the right "country" house with acreage. The very night we signed the papers for that purchase, and the very minute I leaned back and put my feet up, stating, "Now we can relax," was the moment the phone rang. On the other end of the "line" (When's the last time you've heard that term?) were Patty and her fiance announcing they did not want to wait a year to get married; how did December 19 sound? So, while John shopped for a riding lawmower in mid-November and we both looked for furniture, there was always the constant thought of the pending wedding. And it was on the wedding weekend that we tested and coinedd the phrase, "Our dining table seats 13 uncomfortably." And we continue to test that theory to this day.
30 years ago
With my baby Geoffrey startiing kindergarten, I hand-made bread, knitted lots of hats, took classes in cake decorating, had time to read, study, and spend time with the creator of the beautiful land in which we lived. This was the year I met Diane Caldwell, and what one of us did not think to do, the other did. We were partners in room mothering, shopping (I loved to spend her money), took a University class in child nutrition together (Our big project was English Muffin pizza, complete with paint brushes), stood in the snow for hours at the crossroads between our residents, trying to say good bye, ignored warning signs of icy roads and tried to convince our kids we had planned the outing so we could pretend to be Swiss Family Robinson (sea weed IS edible), and giggled a lot.
I pass it on to **Geofrey, **Kay Neathery, and Dian
** Read their response in the comments.
Sunday, October 14, 2007
"Important" People
I have gone back and checked to be sure this is not a repeat. It happens to be one of my favorite "lessons learned from life." It recently came back to memory by the ongoing election news. If it is a repeat, I know several folks who will let me know.
Like most of us, our children's room occasionally would get cluttered and messy enough that I would declare a day of cleaning. Sometimes that was nothing more than tossing toys in a toy box and clothing in the laundry hamper. Other times, it meant digging to the bottom of the toy box and sorting play clothes from Sunday-go-to-meeting outfits. On those particular cleanup days, I would encourage them to clean their area as though the President of the United States was coming for a visit or the Queen of England would be dropping by with white gloves to check for dust.
Well, one afternoon I was finishing up a literal mountain of laundry. Everything had been washed and dried. The children were all sitting in the living room, reading or watching TV or watching me. I, too, was in the living room -- folding laundry and making stacks on every piece of furniture and probably even a few stacks in the middle of the floor. I could see the neighbors' house across the street and was aware that there was someone in the neighborhood, going door to door.
So, I was not particularly surprised when the doorbell rang. But I was surprised to see Governor Sheffield, the Governor of the great State of Alaska, standing on my porch. "May I come in for a visit?" he asked politely.
I looked around at the scene I had created and told him, "This would not be a good time." Somehow, from that day on, we never again cleaned for celebrities.
Like most of us, our children's room occasionally would get cluttered and messy enough that I would declare a day of cleaning. Sometimes that was nothing more than tossing toys in a toy box and clothing in the laundry hamper. Other times, it meant digging to the bottom of the toy box and sorting play clothes from Sunday-go-to-meeting outfits. On those particular cleanup days, I would encourage them to clean their area as though the President of the United States was coming for a visit or the Queen of England would be dropping by with white gloves to check for dust.
Well, one afternoon I was finishing up a literal mountain of laundry. Everything had been washed and dried. The children were all sitting in the living room, reading or watching TV or watching me. I, too, was in the living room -- folding laundry and making stacks on every piece of furniture and probably even a few stacks in the middle of the floor. I could see the neighbors' house across the street and was aware that there was someone in the neighborhood, going door to door.
So, I was not particularly surprised when the doorbell rang. But I was surprised to see Governor Sheffield, the Governor of the great State of Alaska, standing on my porch. "May I come in for a visit?" he asked politely.
I looked around at the scene I had created and told him, "This would not be a good time." Somehow, from that day on, we never again cleaned for celebrities.
Friday, October 12, 2007
Harvest Time
BOOTS - check; GLOVES - check; SNACKS - check; MONEY - check; CELL PHONE - check; DIRECTIONS - check; WEATHER REPORT - check (maybe); BAGS - Is plastic OK?
We have 3 hours before piano lessons. It should not take us much over an hour total driving time. Let's do it. Hug the hubby goodbye. Just Memaw, Mother, and three girls will be on this adventure.
The weather people are all saying the "high overcast" will burn off before the day ends and zero chance of rain. The autumnal colors have changed from dull yellow to brilliant reds and crisp oranges with touches of pinks, lavendars, and vibrant gold - a perfect day for a ride in the country.
We know to expect squirrels. That is a major factor in why we are having to make this trip. When the trees in Patty's yard start to produce, the local squirrels call their relatives and friends and pluck the tree's product while still green on the tree, leaving not a morsel for the rightful owner. So, we head for an entire grove of trees in a remote part of the county, expecting to be overtaken by critters.
True to his word the owner is waiting in his yard. It has been over 10 years since John and I discovered the ad in the newsaper. That year, we took his mother and a lad who had recently learned he was going blind. We picked only that one year, but our memory was rekindled recently when taking a country drive. We remembered the fruit of the trees as being plentiful and, best of all, ressonbly priced.
We ladies should have brought a wheelbarrow or wagon. Buckets would have been a great idea, too. Now that we are at our destination, we wonder if the crop has been picked over. Will there be any left for us? The owner leads us along a path to the terminal for the electric fence. The first step onto the path answers any question of "plenty." Each and every step I take, I can feel the snap underfoot and hear the crackling shell. I want to stop and pick them up but must keep pace with our leader.
Contest rules are set: "Whoever fills their bags first, wins a dollar." After hearing the discussion on the other team about which is the cutest and seeing some mighty tiny ones, a new contest is added, "whoever picks the biggest, wins a dollar. Put your biggest choice in your pocket."
In one hour's time, we gleaned 80 pounds of walnuts. We did not see a single squirrel but watched in disbelief the neighbors' dogs stirring enormous numbers of black birds from their roost.
Now the real fun begins - drying the nuts then shelling them.
We have 3 hours before piano lessons. It should not take us much over an hour total driving time. Let's do it. Hug the hubby goodbye. Just Memaw, Mother, and three girls will be on this adventure.
The weather people are all saying the "high overcast" will burn off before the day ends and zero chance of rain. The autumnal colors have changed from dull yellow to brilliant reds and crisp oranges with touches of pinks, lavendars, and vibrant gold - a perfect day for a ride in the country.
We know to expect squirrels. That is a major factor in why we are having to make this trip. When the trees in Patty's yard start to produce, the local squirrels call their relatives and friends and pluck the tree's product while still green on the tree, leaving not a morsel for the rightful owner. So, we head for an entire grove of trees in a remote part of the county, expecting to be overtaken by critters.
True to his word the owner is waiting in his yard. It has been over 10 years since John and I discovered the ad in the newsaper. That year, we took his mother and a lad who had recently learned he was going blind. We picked only that one year, but our memory was rekindled recently when taking a country drive. We remembered the fruit of the trees as being plentiful and, best of all, ressonbly priced.
We ladies should have brought a wheelbarrow or wagon. Buckets would have been a great idea, too. Now that we are at our destination, we wonder if the crop has been picked over. Will there be any left for us? The owner leads us along a path to the terminal for the electric fence. The first step onto the path answers any question of "plenty." Each and every step I take, I can feel the snap underfoot and hear the crackling shell. I want to stop and pick them up but must keep pace with our leader.
Contest rules are set: "Whoever fills their bags first, wins a dollar." After hearing the discussion on the other team about which is the cutest and seeing some mighty tiny ones, a new contest is added, "whoever picks the biggest, wins a dollar. Put your biggest choice in your pocket."
In one hour's time, we gleaned 80 pounds of walnuts. We did not see a single squirrel but watched in disbelief the neighbors' dogs stirring enormous numbers of black birds from their roost.
Now the real fun begins - drying the nuts then shelling them.
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