Firefly Love

Have you had an opportunity to watch the fireflies? They're flitting around town like a million tiny stars. The back yard has become a firefly dating service. Blink! Blink! "Here I am, honey. Come get me. Catch me if you can. Take a look at this." It's reminiscent of the VFW on weekends. If those single folks had flashlights you wouldn't be able to tell the difference. Hooray for love!

Flower Power

Flowers not only make the bees and the hummingbirds happy, they make us happy. Who can gaze at a blooming plant and not be thrilled? The beautiful colors, intricate petal patterns and awesome fragrances are irresistible. Every time a bud opens, we're experiencing a little miracle. God must have been feeling very generous when He made flowers so accept His gift and pick yourself a bouquet of happiness.

Going to Grandma's

Two of my granddaughters came to visit; a vivacious 11 year old and an adorable 5 year old. I always forget how energetic these youngsters are. They managed to concentrate on a craft project for a couple of hours with only a few interruptions. Then the fun began---I'm thirsty, I'm hungry, I want to watch cartoons. Of course, cleaning up the mess wasn't part of the deal but the hugs and smiles were priceless. The little one refuses to leave without taking home something from Grandma's house but now, instead of asking if she can HAVE it , she asks if she can BORROW it. They learn young, don't they?

Gentlemen, Start Your Engines

My DH has bought himself a new toy, an electric scooter. He's officially joined the ranks of the old folks. Now he'll be able to race around the RV park with the rest of the gang. It must make at least 20 mph! Most residents have a golf cart, scooter, bicycle, etc. Walking seems to be obsolete except for a few hardy souls who arise at dawn and put the rest of us to shame. We just give them a bleary eyed wave as they jog by and continue to sit on our duffs. Afterall, we ARE retired.

What's Cookin'?

Have you noticed that the older you get, the more potlucks you attend? Nobody wants to cook a full meal for a crowd so we assign dishes to our friends. I love to invite a group of people over for a meal and then have the food walk in the back door. Everybody is creative and generous so we always have a nice variety and plenty to eat. If you're tired of cooking, plan a potluck. The food will magically appear. Better yet, if you don't want to clean your house either, make a reservation at a restaurant.

Unforgettable

A year ago we lost one of our close friends to liver cancer. He was such a large presence in our lives that it was heart-rending to watch his decline. He deteriorated from a dancing, drinking, partying jokester to an old man who could barely walk or talk. We have wonderful memories of weekends at his farm. No one was more generous and everybody was welcomed to his home any time of the day or night. If he was invited out, he never arrived empty handed---the little red cooler always came along. We miss dancing in the basement, potlucks in the kitchen, bean bags in the yard. In other words, we miss our friend and so does the VFW. Rock on, Carl!

Largesse from the Garden

Hallelujah! The garden is starting to produce. My DH is harvesting potatoes, onions, cucumbers and rhubarb. I shudder when he heads toward the house with his produce because I know the questions on his lips---can you make a pie, shall we make pickles from these, will you fry these potatoes? It won't be long before we'll have ripe tomatoes (safe ones) and after that melons (tasty ones). There's no comparison with the produce in the stores, which is tasteless, expensive and probably not safe. I consider myself very fortunate to have a husband who isn't afraid to get his hands dirty.

Toss it out

I had a wonderful dad. He was the practical one, the quiet one, the steady one. He cared for my paralyzed mother for several years until she entered a nursing home. He coped fairly well on his own but after awhile he started to lose it. He no longer took a bath or cleaned house. He stayed in bed most of the time but did manage to feed himself. One day when we stopped to check on him there was an electric fry pan lying next to the outside steps. I questioned Dad about it and his answer was, "That damn garbage man was too lazy to pick it up!" Now, if we want to get rid of something we say, "Just toss it out the back door." It reminds us of Dad and also gives us a laugh.

Do I Hear a Bid?

My DH is on a roll. He's simplifying our lives by selling everything in sight. He's already sold 2 boats, has a truck on the market and is talking about a garage sale. He polishes, paints and preps his items and truth be told, they look better than when he was using them. If he offers to paint my nails and then invites me into the shower, I'm running. The next step would be to slap a "For Sale" sign on my forehead!

Old Age is not for Sissies

I worked in a nursing home for 28 years. It was a lesson in life---sometimes a headache, often a pleasure but never dull. The residents kept us entertained without even realizing it. It's a fact that as we age we become less inhibited. After 70 you can get by with saying anything you want. People just think you're getting senile. If you don't believe it, drop into a nursing home sometime. Comments like, "Look at that fat ass", "You can take this chicken leg and shove it" or "Get out of here you little red headed pig" are typical comments. So if you have older parents or relatives and they say something inappropriate, be patient. They may just be playing with you. Old age is frustrating and often discouraging but hopefully, we'll all get there!

Dance Your Socks Off

For several years we frequented the VFW or the Moose every Friday and Saturday night. Our entire group would show up and we'd laugh and dance until we were exhausted, go home to rest up and then the next week we'd start all over. It was a fun time. We'd see pretty much the same people every night but rarely knew names so we assigned them titles: The Chairman of the Board, The Floozy, Fence Post, The Old Crow, The Grasshopper, etc. Then one night I was in the bathroom and a woman asked me what our names were. I told her and she said, "Oh, we call you Mr. amd Mrs. Lord Cavendish." It seems that we weren't the only ones playing the name game.

Pipe Dreams

Six months ago my DH gave up the pipe that he had smoked for over 50 years. Prior to this he was always easy to find as I just followed the trail of tobacco. Now the vacuum cleaner is idle most of the time and his shirts are no longer laced with little holes. However, he's found a new vice---tobacco chewing, which presents its own set of problems. The wall next to his chair on the porch has these annoying dark colored streaks, we spend more on can liners, and mysterious brown spots show up on the floor every so often. I certainly hope they're tobacco!

Motherhood

No matter how old our children are we continue to worry about them . That's just what we do. Young mothers seem to think that all of their problems will disappear when the kids are grown and out of the house. Wrong!!!!! After a few years they'll begin to multiply like rabbits and so will your problems. When your child marries your concerns will double, and then triple or more, as the babies begin to arrive, and believe me, they will! Financial problems, health problems, relationship problems----you'll have them all. There is a rose among the thorns, however, because you'll have lots more people to love. Give thanks if you don't have a dozen kids.

Wash Day

One summer my late husband and I rented a cabin in northern Minnesota and took the family on a week's vacation. Our young granddaughter had never been fishing so she needed some help from Grandpa. It wasn't long before she was casting out and reeling in her line like a pro. Now 4 year olds are not known for their patience and the procedure began to happen on an average of every two minutes. After several tries and still no fish she announced, "I'm gonna wash this worm one more time and then I'm gonna quit fishin'". We could learn a lesson from little kids---they know when to give up.

Floozy Shoes

When I was growing up I always thought it would be fun to be a wild woman. Unfortunately, I didn't have the looks or the personality. I was more Marion the Librarian. Then when my husband died I joined a widowed support group and after a year of intense grieving, we took up dancing. I soon noticed that many women (some wild ones) were wearing gold shoes. By then I had met my future husband and mentioned that I was going to buy some shiny shoes. He informed me in no uncertain terms that only floozies wore that type of footwear, and being the good little librarian that I was, I shelved my plan. Then, lo and behold, guess what he gave me for Christmas---GOLD SHOES. I was officially a floozy.

Lip Service

We'd spent the entire day at Valley Fair and the kids were dropping like flies. They'd ridden everything possible as many times as possible and it was time to get them to bed. When we arrived at the motel, my late husband discovered that he'd forgotten his denture cup and ended up putting his teeth in a glass of water. Our sleepy little grandson went into the bathroom and came flying out, wide awake and scared silly, exclaiming, "Somebody's teeth are in there!" After I explained that Grandpa has dentures and can remove them at night, he calmed down a bit. Then, with eyes as big as saucers, he asked, "And his LIPS too?" Now that little boy is confronting something much more frightening. He's a soldier in Iraq. Pray for our troops.

Kitty Co-op

My brother and sister-in-law live on an acreage in the country. Their tranquility is often interrupted by an abundance of cats---grey cats, yellow cats, cats with no tails. A short time ago two of those furry squatters, one tame and one wild, turned the deck into a feline maternity ward. Between them they gave birth to ten multi-colored kittens. They proceeded to form an alliance and now assist each other in feeding and caring for their offspring. It seems that even cats need a support system sometimes.

For the Birds

When we arrived home this spring we discovered that a robin had started to build a nest behind the light on our back porch. Since it was messy and probably unsafe, I removed it. The next morning she'd started another one. This went on for several days. I'd destroy her efforts during the day and she'd rebuild overnight. Then I awoke one morning to find a deflated yellow balloon hanging from the light. I told my husband, "Look, the robin left us some rent." There she sat, proud as a peacock, daring me to evict her. Needless to say, I gave up and she raised two babies in her safe warm home. She'd created her own incubator. The moral of this story is: In these days of rampant foreclosures--PROTECT YOUR NEST.

The Outdoor Channel

When we spend time at the lake my DH rarely turns the TV on. Instead he sits on a bench and watches the Outdoor Channel. This includes boat launching and docking, camper parking, water skiing and the occasional bathing beauty. During the week he has only one channel, which consists mostly of large and small furry critters, but things pick up considerably on weekends and holidays. The long 4th of July respite was a veritable banquet of channels. He almost became dizzy from the variety of entertainment. It soon became apparent that others were watching the channel in our front yard---funnel cakes, homemade ice cream, adorable little kids all over the place. You can't just be a watcher, you have to join in the madness every so often. So if you can't get digital TV next year just sit on your doorstep and watch The Outdoor Channel.

The Big Z

We hear so much these days about bullying in the schools but this has been going on forever. When I was 7 or 8 years old I was the victim of ZELDA. She was 8 feet tall with a face only a mother could love. She loomed over me like the Incredible Hulk as I cowered in the corner and she bonked me on the head with her library book. I didn't tell my parents because I thought it was part of my continuing education---Torture 101. No matter which door I emerged from, there she was, the big Z, my nemesis. After what seemed like a century she tired of the sniveling little coward and turned to another unsuspecting victim. Even today the name Zelda sends chills down my spine. Maybe if bullying had been nipped in the bud years ago we wouldn't be in Iraq today.

Recycle it!

As we become senior citizens our ideas of entertainment change. We can play a game of cards for hours on end, throw bean bags until our arms fall off or just sit and tell stories. But one of our favorites is hitting the garage sale circuit. We can go through somebody else's junk and find wonderful treasures, haul them home and then wonder why. The house seems to understand, though, because it always absorbs our finds. The $2 rug looks lovely on the porch, the old dresser springs to life with a coat of paint and a few stencils, the 25 books will be read and passed on. We all need to Think Green and protect our beautiful planet. It's too bad people aren't recycled-----or are we?

Decorate Your Life

I love to embellish my nests. The cabin is filled to overflowing with fish and lighthouses, the camper abounds with peppers and kokopellis and the house gets a facelift every spring. If it doesn't move I either paint it, wallpaper it or hang things on it. When my DH proposed to me I drew a lipstick heart on his bald head and wrote "yes" in the center of it. No self-respecting woman should ever pass up a chance to improve her surroundings.

How He Met My Mother

I was widowed in my mid 50's and decided there was no way I was spending the next 30 years alone. It was difficult explaining this to my mother who believed that one husband was enough for any woman. After a couple of years I met this nice man who thought he could tolerate me and we went to approach Mom. As he entered her room in the nursing home he said, "Hi, Verna. My name is Chuck. How are you?" Her frustrated reply was, "How do you think I am? I haven't taken a crap in 3 weeks." After that awkward first meeting she grew to love him too and looked forward to his visits. A few months later, bless his heart, he married me in spite of my mother!

Let the Show Begin

Aren't children wonderful? They come into the world as helpless, dependent beings, lull us into a false sense of security and then take over our lives. They do this with the smiles and the gurgles and the little giggles and before we know it it's too late. The circus begins and we jump through hoops, building up stamina so we can tap dance around them later. A pout, a tear, a deaf ear---anything can start the show. Sometimes we forget that children are supposed to be the "direcTEES" not the "direcTORS".

Going South

Long before my DH and I began to go South my body started the trip.The boobs headed for my former waistline, cheeks joined the chin and eyelids lowered themselves to my cheek bones. My mother now lives in every mirror in the house and the bathroom scale tells blatant lies. I look at the wrinkled old skin covering my body and wonder who it belongs to----there's no way it belongs to me. What in the hell happened? An old crone must have sneaked in during the night and exchanged places with me! The only consolation I can see here is that eventually we all take the same southern route.

Tuna, the Lake Dog

We have a summer cabin at a lake. There's no way it would qualify as a house but it's comfy and cozy and we love it. For several years an adorable little dog named Tuna lived down the road in the high rent district. As soon as he saw us arrive he made a beeline for our front porch. He was the most polite dog I've ever known. If our front door was closed he would bark once and patiently wait for an answer. If it was open he would sit on our picnic table and stare into the cabin like a canine window peeper. One day we arrived and there was no Tuna to greet us. A strange dog came to our porch---no collar or tags, scared of his own shadow. Then the next day we were informed that Tuna had died. It was a sad day at the lake. In a short time a nice young man, a full time resident, adopted the stray dog and named him Floyd. Now Floyd is the Lake Dog and has thrived on the attention. This serves as a reminder that no matter how important you are or think you are there's always somebody ready to take your place.

Casinos: Senior Day Care

When the snowbirds start flocking to Yuma,AZ each fall you can almost hear the businessmen chanting, "Show me the money, show me the money!" In the forefront are the owners of the two large casinos. They're next to salivating as they watch those big rigs arriving by the thousands. After we've finished gobbling up the $.99 breakfast the machines gobble up our social security. A person can stand in line for as long as an hour to get the free $10, which is usually gone in the blink of an eye! Why do we get up at 6 AM to join a line a mile long and then lose money? Beats me, but it's probably because it's fun---a chance to socialize, eat out and once in a blue moon come home winners. A word to the wise: If you're on a strict budget, stay home and make your own breakfast.

The Deadly Dominoes

Dysfunctional families should never play dominoes. Come to think of it, what family isn't at least a little dysfunctional? So that means NOBODY should play dominoes. The little devils encourage you to yell obscenities, throw things, threaten to leave and never come back. They cause usually mild-mannered people to cuss and yell and the not so mild-mannered people to cuss and yell even more. You can't trust them at all; they steal your personality. So throw out the evil dominoes and get a deck of nice quiet cards.

Steel Trap or Chicken Wire?

During my working years I had a mind like a steel trap. I knew each resident's name, height, weight, labs, diagnosis and food preferences. Now I don't even know my own but I don't think I like spinach. Thoughts just flit in and out of my mind of their own volition with no boundaries at all. After breakfast one morning I told my husband to stay put so I could trim his hair. While fetching the clipper I made the bed, scoured the bathroom sink, gathered the laundry, started a load of clothes and began to make banana bread. Our conversation went like this: "Did you forget something?" "What did I forget?" "Well, I'm still sitting here!" Say thanks for patient husbands.

Driving Miss Janice

I've never been very enthused about driving and now that I'm older I'm even less enthused. My DH loves to drive and I love to let him. Until 2 years ago we were driving our pickup and pulling our camper every winter---no chance of me having to drive then. After we found a permanent desert home for the camper we just had to take the truck. Still safe! But last year we bought a new van. Oh!Oh! I might be in trouble. Sure enough, when the launch date arrived he informed me that I'd be doing half of the driving. Well, I just read my books, listened to Michael Buble and occasionally complimented the DH on his driving. Didn't have to drive a lick. When we reached our destination I called my daughter and she said, "Well, did you drive half way?" My happy reply was, "Of course not." It's a good thing the DH can't read this small print because if he could I'd be driving ALL the way to AZ next winter.