some dog

This is our big Golden Doodle, Gus. There is nothing he likes better than a walk in a place where he can be off the leash to run and chase sticks or his ball. He's good about sticking close to Regis and coming back when he's called.

Gus and Regis went for a walk by the hospital the other evening. It was getting dark and cool so Regis was surprised to see a gentleman standing out in a field, hands in pockets. Assuming he was a bird watcher, Regis was ready to move on...but not Gus. Gus ran out into the field and made a few circles around the man, ignoring Regis's calls to return. He sat down in front of the man and watched his face. Regis finally trudged out to see why Gus was ignoring him.

The man said he had gone out for a walk but was lost. He admitted to not knowing where he was and he couldn't name the place where he lived. Regis suggested that he and Gus would take him in the truck and find his home.

When they got to the truck, Regis named a few of the assisted living facilities in the neighborhood and the man recognized the name. Mystery solved. They drove him home and made sure he was safely inside.

This is not the first time Gus has rescued someone. Regis and I joke that he's like Lassie. Another time, same vicinity, Gus took off, refused to return. When we turned the corner, ready to scold him, he was with an elderly couple. The man had fallen to one knee and his wife, a tiny woman, didn't have the strength to help him stand. We got him up and walked them back to their residence.

Gus to the rescue.

spring cleaning: zoloft and sunshine

After a dark winter, my mood has lifted. Thanks to a little sunshine and a little chemical help from my doctor, I am awake...finally.

One of the happy side effects of that is I am more interested in righting the ship of state, our house. I can see a pile of stuff and have some ideas about how to sort and organize and put away. For a while, that was beyond me.

So, I started the ritual of packing away winter sweaters, coats, mittens, and boots and bring up from the basement the sandals, t-shirts, skirts, and summer pajamas. A guy just can't wear fleece leopard print pajamas in July, you know.

I tend to put things on the list and then I avoid the list, or perpetually move some items to the bottom. Making copies of some family papers and sending them out seemed like such a simple thing to offer to do. Why do I keep procrastinating? Most of these jobs, once started, are not nearly as bad as they appeared.

In the last few weeks, I have cleaned out the refrigerator, taken five boxes to the thrift store, cleaned out the back porch (kind of), cleaned and filled all the spring bird feeders, and cleaned out a ton of paper from my office. I can see the floor all around my desk now!

This morning, I'm washing new curtains for the living room. The description said little of no ironing. I beg to differ. Ugh. I hate ironing curtains.

I'm going to take a break from all of this productivity and watch our baby grandson, Easton, for a while. He has gotten a little funny about folks other than his mama and he doesn't like to take a bottle so we might be in for a run. He is so much fun and it's hard to be anything but serene when you're holding a baby.

coming back

I haven't written on my blog for almost two months. I have thought about why that is and there are a couple of reasons.

For a while, I got concerned about the opinions of other people about what I write. That was short-lived. Not a reason anymore.

I got in the habit of using my blog to document my daily life. That got oppressive because I felt like I had to have pictures and I had to keep up so it was current. Once you get behind, it's punishing to try and catch up. Like cleaning your house. I'm giving up on that notion. I'm going back to using my blog as a place to write my observations about my life rather than what I did today.

I quit using my the big computer in my office and started using the iPad more. I hate typing anything longer than a few sentences so I avoided my blog. What happened to five fingers on the home keys? That works so much better for me.

I've developed the game habit again...sitting in the chair playing Scrabble (some minor brain activity can be detected), Gin Rummy, and Solitaire. Not so much brain stimulation with those last two. I have to do what I did with Candy Crush and its ilk...delete.

One of the things I love about my blog is the way it provides a look back. I just read this post from December 22nd of this past year. I found my votive candle holders and thought it was safe to bring them out again since our babies were old enough for the candles to not be dangerous. Since then, we've had one new grand-baby and we've found out that two more are expected in September. So life changes, sometimes more than we can expect.

So, I'm back to writing. Might not always be earth-shattering and might not even always be interesting. But so it goes.

the week that was

Monday morning we left for Canby. No kind of travel is painless for us so even though Mom makes it very comfortable and the trip is not long, I complain about the drive. Two hours seems to be my limit. I have been known to weep on car trips, quite often actually.

We had a good time. Drove out to the state line (South Dakota) for a drink Monday night. Went to Hero's for dinner. Made two baby blankets and a lemon cake. Visited a lot. Tangled with the internet provider. Did a few little jobs. All very enjoyable.

We got home without incident. I went to bed and slept soundly.

At 6, I woke up and found Regis sitting in the chair in the living room. Off we went to the ER. The rest of that story is in the post I made by email a couple days ago. Always a mystery to me how that happens.

We got home about 6 last night. Ate a drive-through burger and some soggy fries. Went to bed at 8pm and didn't wake up until 7 this morning. I haven't accomplished much today except to be vertical and to make a couple loaves of bread. Mostly I have played Scrabble and read my book.

I'm making grilled ham and cheese sandwiches for dinner. We might finish the episode of Night Manager that we started last night but were too tired to finish.

Regis is feeling better. At least he can walk upright without pain. He'll see his primary care doc on Wednesday for a follow-up visit.

Never a dull moment around here.

Here we are

It's unnerving to wake up at 6 and find a text from Regis, written at 3am, asking me to take him to the ER.

He described intense pain in his lower left abdomen that got worse when he stood. Off to the ER we went.  

Three hours later, we are on our way to the Mother Ship in Rochester. Me in the car and Regis in the back of an ambulance. 

A very nice doc in Mankato diagnosed a hematoma in an abdominal muscle with a large clot. Likely from the blood thinning drugs but exacerbated by a slip on the ice last week. 

He has learned that if you admit to a fall, suddenly it's in your chart and you're wearing a neon bracelet that says Fall Risk. Better to say you were break dancing. 

He will be here a few days while they stabilize his blood. It will go from thin to thick to thin. Simple explanation. I hope to go home tomorrow. 

that is all

I'm not going to rant about politics this morning because, frankly, it's exhausting. I'm only right now, this morning. An hour from now might be different.

Well, there is this. I just got distracted looking for funny pictures of Steve Bannon and Kelly Anne Conway. There is no shortage (I'd post a few here but don't want to ruin the bread and baby mojo.) but here's a scary idea. Someone started a FB page to promote her run for the presidency in 2020. Lord have mercy.

waking up, waiting for war

It's been a little more than a week since we inaugurated the new potus. I am already weary of waking up every day and having my first thought be of war. Every day, it's some new outrageous thing he has done. Every day, some new embarrassment in front of the world.

Yesterday, people who have lived here legally for years were detained and not allowed to enter the US. Britain is considering (again) not allowing him to visit their country. He is an ignorant schoolyard bully. I say if they decide to let him in, they have to keep him. Preferably in a jail cell.

This morning, I wake up to see he has reshuffled the US National Security Council, downgrading the military chiefs of staff and giving a regular seat to his chief strategist Steve Bannon. The guy who tells the press to shut up. The guy who looks like Nick Nolte's last mug shot.

From Wikipedia: Bannon was a founding member of the board of Breitbart News, a far-right news, opinion and commentary website which, according to Philip Elliott and Zeke J. Miller of Time, has "pushed racist, sexist, xenophobic and anti-Semitic material into the vein of the alternative right".

You can't make this shit up, my friends. If you voted for this dude, this is what you got us. It's not like he kept his crazy hidden during the campaign.

I'm angry. Disturbed. Afraid. I'll go into my kitchen soon and bake a couple more loaves of bread. If they take away our social security and medicare and we end up living in a van down by the river, at least we'll have bread for a couple weeks.

unwilling to be silent

I've discovered as I've gotten older that one thing that causes extreme stress for me is acting as if things are normal and sane when they are not. I'm not filled with courage when it comes to speaking my mind and usually choose a safe route to hedge and hem and haw. I'm not good at conflict and I'm especially not good at arguing with people regarding subjects about which I have strong feelings. My emotions get in the way.

But.

I hear I was called a baby killer from the pulpit of the local Catholic church this past Sunday. The priest called all women who marched in the Women's March baby killers. Did he mean all people who marched, because there were men, lots of men. If he did mean the men, too, it would be the first time I have heard the role of men mentioned in public debates about reproduction. If he means all of us at the March believe in each woman having the right to make her own reproductive decisions, then he is right about me. I do believe that is my right and the right of other women.

I would bet there were many people there who are not in favor of abortion. Hell, I'm not in favor of it but I think I can make that decision for myself. The picture I saw was the potus and seven white men standing around the Oval Office making this very personal decision the business of the government. What the hell.

A couple things about that. It seems to me that the folks so outraged about the right to life don't give a damn about the life of the child once it exits the womb. Housing, education, health care are not their worries. Pull yourself up by your bootstraps, kid. The potus says he did.

I think it is the height of hypocrisy to proclaim outrage about children in the womb here but to not care a fig about children dying in refugee camps or in small rubber rafts as their parents try to flee war, torture, and starvation. I call bullshit.

The Catholic Church has a huge-hearted and compassionate Pope right now. I doubt he would condone this kind of name calling and hateful rhetoric being spouted in his churches. I'm writing a letter to him and to the Bishop of this diocese because I can't sit here silently anymore...about any of this.

My silence gives consent.

saved by

poems that come by email and social media
it shouldn't be this hard
poems that drift into my head, like smoke
the dog's fluffy head and
the cat coming for treats at 4am
soft purr and persistent paws
tiny birds that come to the feeder in the hour before dawn
the sound of bread crust crackling on the counter as it cools
children at the table doing homework and listening
what's a revolution?
the silence of snow falling outside my window
fresh smell of a new baby
soft head, grasping tiny fingers
old women who write

journalists who persist
parks that defy
women who march

immobilized, angry, sad

Some days it is a struggle to get out of bed. To stay vertical. On the days when I do, I read the news or watch a little bit of it (as much as I can stomach) and I want to go directly to the cave.

It's baffling. Up is down and down is up. Lies are alternative facts. I'm not going to be in the business of reporting his crazy ass shit here. It gives me a headache to think about it.

I might have turned a corner, though. I was heartened to see a reporter go after a couple of dumb asses today and (almost) holler: Just answer the question! He never did. How these people can sleep at night is a mystery. Even the pope has cautioned against this guy. The Pope. Think about that. Take all the time you need.

I'm turning into an angry and sarcastic person. You might not know it to see me on the street but I have angry (and sad) thoughts many times a day. The number of times I say sarcastic things in my head in a day is too many to count. Think I should see a doctor? I have an appointment but I'm not sure she can fix what's wrong.

some questions about life

I recently found the answer to why birds legs don't freeze off in the winter but I'm not going to reveal it here. I am not the science guy and you can wait to stumble upon the answer just like I did.

Why is Duck Dynasty on the Arts and Entertainment channel? I thought they had shows where the very proper John Houseman did the intro. Stories about dead kings and such, not grizzly old guys in camouflage. Of course, this could launch a whole raft of philosophical questions about television. Check out the listings for the Learning Channel sometime. Not much learning going on there, my friends.

Why do my medical symptoms start to disappear the day I call the doctor to make an appointment? When I tell the central office appointment scheduler that I suspect an eye infection, why does she want to know which eye? And you know I will answer that same question three more times before I actually see the doctor. I have to admit however, when I called to make the appointment, my doctor's name slipped my mind. Maybe they are trying to cement the actual thought into my brain so I am not wasting the doctor's time by scratching my head and thinking: joint pain? eye infection? bunions?

Why is it that when I spend all day cooking something, the idea of eating it is not very appealing? Is the mystery gone? Have I tasted enough that I'm not hungry? Is this a universal phenomenon?

When we watch television, why are all the commercials for erectile dysfunction, adult diapers, pharmaceutical solutions for insomnia and gas, and belts that expand when you sit down? Those belts, by the way, are worn by guys with scrawny legs wearing lime green bermuda shorts. It's offensive.

Why, oh why, would a woman nominated to an important cabinet post in our government cite the threat of grizzly bears as a reason to allow guns in schools? I am not making this up although you would certainly think so. Here it is. I have been in stressful interview situations and I have said some ridiculous things that I later regretted, believe me. But I have never said anything quite this bizarre.

Well, that's enough of my rambling mind this morning. I think I'll keep Woody company as he watches the first birds and squirrels come to the feeders this morning. I'll pour myself another cup of coffee. I'll get out my calendar and make a short list of things to do today.

Keep wondering, my friends.

dog days of winter

I know dog days refers to the hot and sultry days of summer, but I think winter should get its due with a comparable spell of days. I found this on Wikipedia:

The dog days continued through the early 19th century to be perceived as foreboding a time of evil, wherein "the Sea boiled, the Wine turned sour, Dogs grew mad, and all other creatures became languid; causing to man, among other diseases, burning fevers, hysterics, and phrensies," as described by Brady in his Clavis Calendaria (1813).

Yeah, that's it. Burning, fevers, hysterics, and phrensies. (FYI. Phrensies is an obsolete spelling of frenzies.) You could probably look back over my ten years of blog writing and see this same theme repeated in January year after year. Sigh. It is not the peak of my biorhythmic cycle.

I decided yesterday that I had enough of sitting in the chair in my pajamas until noon. I got out my calendar, made a list of things to do, and I was busy all day. One of the things on my list was #3) Watch Doc Martin and knit. Check that one off.

I made soup, I made bars for dessert, I took the last of the holiday stuff to the basement, I went to the store for poster paper and to mail a package, I made two appointments. I was not a complete loafer.

Today I am sorting my mysteries since I spent an hour last night reading a book I had just finished a month ago. I regret to say (sort of) that I seem to have re-acquired my book hoarding habit. Sigh. My little library is stocked with books I bought at the thrift store, many of them old favorites that I have parted with over the years. It's hard to not go out there and fetch them back into the house.

We had an ice storm last night that left a sheen on everything and prevented safe travel by foot and vehicle. During the night, it was covered with some snow so it is much better today. School started late but the transit is operational.

I watched about an hour of the news this morning, trying to be more informed while avoiding insanity. It was interesting. One of the journalists said that Americans are exhausted from this crap. No kidding. I had to shut it off when they started talking about the nominee for Secretary of Education. A guy can only take so much reality.

Aside from sitting, I have been knitting. In the last two weeks, I knit a pair of leggings and two pussy hats. We had a hoot of a time trying them on and taking selfies last night.

I had the delicious privilege to be present when our newest grand baby Easton was born. Words can't describe how exciting and emotional it was to see him take his first breaths. It was something I will never forget. Even the dog days have some wonderful surprises.

I'm watching an episode of Doc Martin, soaking red beans for soup, and looking over my bread recipe. Sandi is coming over later so we can work on our signs for the march on Saturday.  The ice is melting, there have been a few birds at the feeder, and we're warm and cozy in our little house. Life is good even in the dog days.

snow helps

Yesterday it snowed for a short time in the afternoon. This morning, it's snowing again. Against the colorless background of this winter, I love the white. The radio is talking about ice pellets and varying amounts of snow. Sigh.

There is a tiny junco at the feeder trying to get through the snow to the cracked corn.

The neighbor's car alarm did not go off this morning. Regis, doing the kind and neighborly thing, offered to help the operator learn to use it. Me, doing the grouchy un-neighborly thing, only complained loudly and turned on the porch light every time I heard it. My disposition is not at its best in January.

I had softened my stance on Facebook, even reading some of the political news, but yesterday I got sucked into a conversation where I tried to comment on something obviously not in that person's world view. I have since gone back to my campaign of withdrawal. Delete, unfollow, unfriend. It's like a damn war.

Regis and the techno-obsessed sons are in a competition to see who spends the least on heating. They all have the Nest so they get monthly statements of heating hours. I have agreed to attempt to cope with lower daytime temperatures in the house by piling on clothes, as my part in the fight against climate change. Haha! It sounds ridiculous but it's true. I have taken to wearing a large, wool sweater over my flannel nightgown. It's quite a look.

We were getting our trash and recycling out, me still in my robe and slippers. I walked outside and asked Regis if he thought I was starting to look old and ugly. He wondered what had prompted that question. Well, I said, I went in the bathroom and looked in the mirror.

I asked this very sweet husband if he would go out and sweep off the feeder so the tiny junco could get some seed. He said it would cost me a couple of degrees. So now it's a commodity.

I have a few tasks to accomplish today, in my state of advanced lethargy. I'm going to take the Christmas tree down, drag the stuff to the basement, make sausage and potato soup, and walk on the treadmill. Better get started.

light and dark

When I start to list, in my head, the dark moments from my days, I can usually think of light that helps, a little, in the balance.

My friend, in another town. diagnosed with Stage 4 cancer that has spread to bones and organs. We taught together and she was kind and sweet and funny. What a sad burden for her and for her family.

Good friends joined us for dinner last night. Fresh bread, crab cakes with mango salsa, vegetable soup (with turnips), and coconut macaroons. Much laughter. They're taking a trip (a safari, like in the movies) to Africa soon. Imagine. Monkeys outside your tent.

Our friend in Texas, breathless walking on the beach, diagnosed with heart problems. Fixable, but disturbing. We know he hates this kind of attention, but for me, not a praying person, invoking his name here is like a prayer. Like it is for Sandy. And Karen. And Jaime. And Betty, always a worry.

It's gotten so that I am almost afraid to call people and a Caring Bridge email stops my breath.

A visit to Ecumen today with my friend, Kathryn, to write and read and share stories with our friends there. Their stories help me know that the timeline goes beyond what I can see right now today. We always leave feeling lighter and warmer.

The dread of the inauguration of that silly, morally corrupt, inept man. There aren't words. To balance that ugliness out, I am going to the Women March: Minnesota. I don't like crowds, I don't like going to the cities, I am not brave in any way but I am going to this. I've wept a lot of tears since November 8th and this will be the balance for that darkness.

We have a new grandbaby coming on Wednesday. That joy is the balance for other sadness which is not my story to tell. No matter what, a baby is a sign of hope and love.

The wretched weather. I am tired of wearing wool sweaters over my flannel nightgowns. Anders said last night that he got out his shorts and sandals, just to look at them. We are all tired of packing around 30 pounds of clothes and boots so we don't freeze to death. The balance is that the sky has been spectacular and the frigid temps will end soon. Even now, on the east side of the house, ice will melt when the sun is shining. Garden weather is coming soon.

Yesterday, I got a box of pictures I had ordered of Peter and April's wedding. I waited until this morning to open it and look at them. So many sweet moments on that hot, July day.

Every morning at 6 am, my sweet husband's alarm goes off on his phone, or his iPad, or both. Tropical birds. Lots of tropical birds in increasing volume until I get out of bed to shut it off. Then the neighbor's car alarm goes off, again, as it has the past two mornings. Nobody comes out to get in the car. Does a guy set a car alarm as a wake-up device?

I just read the post I wrote yesterday, which I sometimes do to make sure I am not repeating myself, which I often am. Sigh. This post sounds a lot like yesterday's, and pretty similar to others I have written lately. Sigh. Must be the same shit on my mind and the answer to it is the crazy cat eyes and WTF. And writing it down. When I write it down, it takes away a little of the power. Let's hope that works.

blinky and weird and bread

I mentioned to Regis that we might have to replace one of our under-cabinet lights because it has been acting blinky and weird. Huh, he said. Kind of like you.

This time of year, when I spend a lot of time in the living room, I am always looking for ways to economize our space which is limited. In my sights today is the cat tree. We got it when Woody was about 2 years old, and honestly, he was more interested in the box. He never uses most of the space on it...the hammock, the kitty cave, the rope. He used to like the tallest perch and he eats on the second level, but otherwise it is a huge suck of space that is unused 98% of the time.

Since we solved the litter problem, now it's time to find something for this issue. Sigh. It's always something.

In the past three weeks, I have hardly left the house except for essential trips. Too icy, too dark, too cold. I drink coffee, take naps, read books, and knit. It is a nice life but I worry that I am becoming a recluse. I don't even like to interact much on the social media because of all the crazy people there who believe stuff they hear of Fox news. Gah. It makes my head explode.

I'm with AML on this one. The instinct to be half asleep all winter is so strong in me.

I have garden plans, though...always a hopeful sign.

I have been baking bread and making soup. I had high hopes for a steak and mushroom soup I made the other night but thought it was kind of meh in the end. Regis gave it a 7. Today I'm making this Amish Egg Harbor Bread again and Farmhouse Vegetable Soup from my new cookbook.

Amish Egg Harbor Bread

2 1/2 cups warm water (120-130 degrees)
3 T. sugar

1 T. salt
5 tsp. yeast
2 T. melted butter
6 cups flour

egg wash

Pour the warm water into a bowl or measuring cup. Add the butter, sugar, and salt. Proof for up to 10 minutes until bubbly.

In the bowl of the stand mixer, combine three cups of flour and yeast using flat beater. Mix well. Slowly add water mixture. Beat for about three minutes then switch to dough hook. Gradually add flour in half cups up to six cups total. Dough should be soft and not dry when finished.

Put into a large oiled bowl. Turn so it gets oiled all over. Cover with plastic wrap and set aside to rise for 30 minutes, then punch down and let it rise for 15 minutes, then punch down and let it rise for 15 minutes. Repeat one more time.)

Divide the dough and put into prepared loaf pans. Push the dough down into the corners of the loaf pan.

Cover the pans with greased wax or parchment paper and put aside until almost triple in volume. The dough should rise 1 1/2 inches to 2 inches above the rim of the tin in about 50 minutes.

Mix up an egg wash by whisking 1 egg with 1 T. milk. Carefully brush this mixture on the tops of the loaves. You don’t want to deflate the bread at this point!

Bake in a 350° oven or until done. After baking, turn out on to a rack for cooling. This makes a nice, solid white bread. It stays fresh for a couple days on the counter, then I slice and wrap in 2-3 slice measures and freeze. Makes wonderful toast!

Sending out good and healing thoughts to Tom, our former mailman friend who winters in Texas. Hope you're back on the beach and in the pub soon, Tom. 

Also healing thoughts to my friend, Elaine, in England. We met through the comment section of Humans of New York. I think we both offered to take in strangers for Thanksgiving dinner one year. Elaine is waiting for medical tests and diagnosis for some lingering problems. Hoping for the best possible news.

I better stop now or this is going to start sounding like the Lutheran prayer chain at church.

Beware the Eyes of Woodrow

this old man and lots of random stuff

From THIS OLD MAN by Roger Angell who is 90 something:

I’ve endured a few knocks but missed worse. I know how lucky I am, and secretly tap wood, greet the day, and grab a sneaky pleasure from my survival at long odds. The pains and insults are bearable. My conversation may be full of holes and pauses, but I’ve learned to dispatch a private Apache scout ahead into the next sentence, the one coming up, to see if there are any vacant names or verbs in the landscape up there. If he sends back a warning, I’ll pause meaningfully, duh, until something else comes to mind.

I bought fabric, cut it out, tried to sew it on the sewing machine, found I had no needles, got needles from Marie, found I had no idea how to use a sewing machine after all these years, hand-stitched the hem so Gus would have a nice bandana for Christmas Eve. Three days later he lost it on a walk. Not the $1.99 bandana we buy at Menards. This one.

We had days of 30-40 mph winds so I didn't hold out much hope for finding it. But two days ago, on a walk, Regis spotted it out in the field. He traipsed through the snow to retrieve it. Amazing. Lost and found has been a theme this year.

I have been sort of obsessed with Scotland lately. I hung a large National Geographic map in the bedroom and I have a road map of Edinburgh in the night stand drawer. Yeah, repeating myself. Sorry. Now, I want to know about their language so I ordered these two books for my Kindle. Both free. Elements of Gaelic Grammar

• and An Etymological Dictionary of the Scottish Language.
• 
  

This was my breakfast yesterday. I know some people get all sarcastic if you post food pictures but I like them. Social media is very selfish. People think they can see what they want to see and nothing else. I am quite proficient at hide and unfollow so I don't care. Post away. If I get tired of something posted, I quit looking.

This came in the mail. Always a good thing to peruse during the long, gray days of winter. My garden is one of those things where the fantasy and the execution are quite different.

Putting away the 2016 calendar, I found this list. What the heck is it? I wonder if I was listening to something and made these notes. It's a mystery. Lost and found.

This quote by Louise Erdrich has been in the front of my calendar all year. Now it is moved to 2017. I love her writing. I have started hoarding books again. I just stopped by my little library in the garden and some of my favorites are in there. It took a lot of will power not to bring them back in the house.

Happy Monday. Moving on into the day.

and so it begins

A new year.

We stayed up later than usual watching When Harry Met Sally. We feasted on strip steak, mashed potatoes, shrimp with Creole sauce, and Cuban bread. I might have been barely awake when midnight struck but I was in bed, reading my new Ian Rankin book.

I've been studying my maps of Scotland and Edinburgh to find the places Rebus visits in the books. I love the names: Firth of Forth, for example. I'm not sure what a firth is besides being some large body of water...maybe an inlet. I could look it up but so far, it's more interesting to wonder.

I'm sure the letter carrier (who rarely carries letters) was cursing me under her breath yesterday. All my Christmas presents came, and the pile of new books I ordered. We had a pile of packages on the front step that must have taken her three trips from the little truck. Stock pot is ready to go and I have been perusing the new soup cookbooks. Hungarian steak and mushroom will be my first go. Then French onion. We had the most delicious French onion soup at Number Four the other night for inspiration.

I haven't made any resolutions but I like this:
My Five New Year’s Revolutions BY PARKER J. PALMER

This is a video by my cousin, Nick Rhinehart. Nick is a musician and metal artist in Seattle. I haven't seen him since he was about four years old, but it's nice to have talented relatives. His sister is also an artist.

Here's Julie Fisco's work. Julie Fisco

And you are reading my body of work right here. The Blog.

Enough bragging. 

We'll spend a quiet day here on the Ponderosa. We're going to celebrate Ella's birthday at her house later this afternoon, then on with the new year. I have an appointment with Gunnar tomorrow. Time to leave cookies and lefse behind for a while.

Happy New Year, my friends.

last of 2016

 I'm not a fan of rehashing the old year or making promises for the new year but as I stood at the sink yesterday morning doing a few dishes, this spectacular sunrise appeared. There isn't time to dilly dally with the sunrise, so I traipsed into the yard in my robe and slippers to take the picture. By the time I got back in the house, the colors had changed.

Tiptoeing into an icy backyard at dawn is treacherous. It is an act of faith. Had I gone down, flopping like a fish out of water, it might have been a while before someone rescued me. Regis was in the shower and I prayed with every step that he would think to look for me should that be my fate.

I made it safely back to the house. I'm pretty sure there is a metaphor here but I'm not sure yet what it is. This is the third metaphor I have identified in two days so I am either daft or quite perceptive. Ha!

I had lunch with two friends yesterday, women about my age. We all said the holidays exhaust us and we vowed to do it differently in the future. I have said this before but this time my resolve is strong. If I publish a menu here that is longer than the buffet menu at the local restaurant, somebody please send the crisis team. It should not take a week to recover from a holiday.

Regis and I are planning a quiet New Year's Eve. It's been years since we were inclined to go out among the masses. I'm thawing New York strip steaks, I have shrimp with cocktail sauce and a few other treats, I'm going to make a baguette, and we plan to watch When Harry Met Sally. If we are awake at midnight, I'll be surprised.

We took Ella to Number Four for dinner last night to celebrate her 11th birthday. It's quite fancy and expensive. Regis took Alex to the Nicollet Cafe for lunch and Alex had two pancakes for $4.19. He asked if it was ok to spend that much. Haha! We joked that he is a cheaper date than his sister...her dad says champagne taste and a Kool-Aid budget.

We did our semi-annual programmers for the day gig at KMSU this week, too. It always involves breakfast at the end and this time, we went to the Nakato. Ella found the street art fascinating.

I took the other two to lunch one day this week. I had forgotten how much little kids like to talk about poop and puke. It is an endless source of enjoyment for them. Sigh. 

We woke up to wind again today which means I will refuse to leave the house and might spend some of the day in the lower level. Also known as the basement.

Well, see ya. Have a happy eve of the new year. Be safe.

stats: my gallery

I think I've mentioned that sometimes I like to check out the statistics on my blog. I think they're interesting. A woman in a small town can amass almost a quarter of a million pageviews without much effort. Think about what a guy could do if he tried.

This list shows pageviews: the number of times someone just looked at a page of my blog. Me included.

Pageviews today

34

Pageviews yesterday

81

Pageviews last month

5,067

Pageviews all time history

243,560

Followers

12

This map shows all the places around the world where the pageviews have originated. The list is below the map. Almost 30,000 pageviews from the Ukraine. What? Posts get more readers if I share them on Facebook but I don't do that very often. I'm not sure what moves me to do that...not any sense of "Oh, this is a good one." It's more of an impulse.

Entry	Pageviews
United States	125060
Ukraine	28737
Russia	17767
France	11716
China	10518
Germany	6098
United Kingdom	2647
Poland	1968
Spain	1186
Turkey	1094

This list is probably most interesting to me, not you. A little more than 2,400 posts over ten years. You can see my creative efforts wax and wane. Sometimes with reason, sometimes just a matter of habit. Need to have the time and place to write regularly.

Blog Archive

• December 2016 (22)
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• December 2007 (25)
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• April 2007 (24)
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• February 2007 (27)
• January 2007 (14)
• December 2006 (16)
• November 2006 (12)
• October 2006 (23)

Total posts: 2,413

I don't have a theme. I am just as likely to write about our dog as politics (rarely) or recipes (frequently). I was talking to Patty at Stone's Throw one day and she asked if I was an artist. I laughed. No, I am not an artist but I treat my writing here as a creative/artistic effort. Usually not very good for the consumer but always good for the producer. This is my gallery: where my random musings about random crap gets written down for anyone to look at. I have no illusions...like panning for gold. Sometimes you find gold but most times you get mud.

I've had to work at not caring about who reads here and what they think. A few times when I have gotten caught in that trap, it is stultifying. I go back and forth between allowing and not allowing comments. I enjoy some comments but not the critical ones. What makes people think I want to hear that? Haha. I don't want to hear it.

I usually read a post over and make a few revisions for the sake of word choice or fluency but I don't labor over them too much. I'm sure it shows.

One thing I have loved about my blog is that it shapes the way I see things. In the midst of an experience, I find myself thinking, I could write about it this way and I start composing in my head.

These are the top posts of all-time. I have no idea why they are the most popular. The first one is a Dilbert cartoon and one of the others has a Gary Larson cartoon. Maybe my blog pops up when people search for those. Beats me. 

Entry	Pageviews
http://www.teresasaum.com/2010/11/blog-post.html Nov 16, 2010, 1 comment	4725
another post Nov 28, 2010	4147
2000th post Aug 30, 2013, 1 comment	2223
weekend in Rochester Feb 6, 2011, 3 comments	2045
pontoon party planning #1 Jul 6, 2014, 1 comment	1561

Well, there you go. The retrospective at the end of my tenth year. There is an archive of some of my favorite posts on the right. They are some of my funnier posts, I admit. Through the years, I have been funny and I have written in the middle of the night, between sobs. Like life. Light and dark.