Have you ever had trouble recalling a person’s name, especially someone from your past? If you say, “No,” I would say, “You’re telling a fib!”

When we enter our golden year’s, it becomes harder to remember names, and it happens more frequently, at least it does for me. My retired friend, Barbara, and I went out for lunch yesterday and we had an odd experience as we chatted. We had been teachers in the same district and we were gossiping about people in our past: educators like us.

“Remember that principal at my school who got fired? His first name was Arthur and his last name started with a D,” my friend started out.

“Was he the principal many years ago and he didn’t last long?” I prompted. “His last name started with a D?” She replied that he had been at her school a long time ago and yes, his last name maybe started with a D.

“Oh, Arthur Adams. That was his name,”she finally blurted out. “Adams!”

“Well, Adams doesn’t start with a D!” I scolded.

“But it has a D in it!” she emphasized. I had to admit that Adams has a D.

I started reminiscing with her about a speech therapist we had in our school district and I threw in some gossipy snarky comment about her (just to keep the conversation interesting).

“What was her name? Hmmm. Oh, Margaret- something. Last name started with a C,” I said wrinkling my brow like Columbo or Sherlock Holmes trying to solve a mystery.

My friend thought a minute. “Margaret McCall.”

“Right! You remembered. Thank you. You have a great memory. But McCall doesn’t begin with a C.”

“But it has a C in it! In fact it has two C’s!” She had a point.

This went on for quite a long time as one of us remembered a person from our past but couldn’t remember the last name or maybe a first name, and vice versa.

We admitted that we were a good team supplying info on past coworkers’ names, but only getting part of the names. However, with each other’s help-we had supplied the person’s full name. After our lunch break, we went to several shops in my little town and bought a few things to start off our holiday shopping. One of my ex-neighbors ran a cute Christmas shop and we enjoyed looking at all her festive decorations, smelling the candle scents, deciding which ornaments to buy and admiring some cute ceramics. I introduced my friend to my previous neighbor, the shop owner, Vera : “Barbara- this is my old neighbor, Vera.” My friend asked my ex-neighbor if she could call when a certain ceramic item became available. She had liked the local ceramics artist.

“Sure. Just write your name and phone number here,” said Vera.

As we walked out of the shop, Barbara’s eyes lit up. “Hey,” she asked me, “What’s Vera’s last name?”

I had to admit I didn’t know, in fact I couldn’t even remotely remember with what letter her last name started.

“You got me there,” I confessed. “Maybe I will ask her next time and you can guess what it is. This has been a fun day”

Whatever you plan on baking, remember to stick with your old standbys. Do not try some new trendy desserts or side dishes for that big Thanksgiving dinner. Maybe you’re attempting more healthy dishes with organic ingredients and more new recipes. Forget it. I’m going to say nix, nope, negative and not now. Are you crazy! (Don’t answer that. I’m just saying you might be crazy but you’re not. Although it takes one to know one. I’m sorry if that offends you but it’s just a saying.)

Often when trying some new recipes for a special occasion, the food doesn’t turn out like you had planned, so stick with what you know tastes delicious and have made previously. Older is better. Don’t test out new recipes on your poor family, friends and guests.

Another problem I have encountered when neighbors have smelled the aroma of burning food coming fresh from my oven and kitchen, is that I wait too long to cook for the holidays. I don’t plan ahead. I rush. I think maybe all the necessary ingredients are on hand. They aren’t always, so I run to the grocery store, or substitute an ingredient or simply leave the missing ingredient out and try cooking a great food item without all that’s needed. (When in doubt, do not throw it out. Persist. Improvise. Experiment cautiously.) Substitute something you think will work just as well. Butter can work if you don’t have shortening. Almonds will work if you don’t have walnuts. Water won’t work if you do not have milk. Believe me. Ask a cow.

I hope you have enjoyed my shortcuts for baking pies. It was fun sharing my extensive and expensive experimentation experiences in the kitchen with you. (Don’t let me know how it goes. I’ve got my own problems.)

By Valerie Halla

There’s a great store nearby that’s called The Outside In and I can identify with that name. I’m not sure what that refers to but maybe it means you can bring outside things like fresh air, plants or beautiful flowers from the outside indoors. I’m thinking of other things though. Have you ever worn anything inside out or backwards or upside down? I’ve done it without even realizing that I had goofed.

Once I went to work with my blouse on inside out. It was buttoned so I just slipped it over my head and off I went, except with an inside out blouse. Maybe you have tried that also or maybe you weren’t as tired and bleary eyed as I was. Having three little kids and trying to get them ready for school and out the door at the same time I was going to work, made mornings hectic not to mention crazy, with a capital K.

A nice friend and coworker mentioned my inside out blouse later that day and sure enough, I looked down and the seams were showing on the outside and even though I was comfortable, the blouse just didn’t look right. This was probably on a Monday since Mondays can be pretty tough when you have had a great weekend watching tv, staying up late, sleeping in, and just trying to do all the chores and kids’ stuff in two measly days. It’s insane insanity with a capital E.

I didn’t learn my lesson though. A few months later, I went to work with my earrings on backwards. Another loyal friend and teacher mentioned that my earrings were on backwards. I quickly fixed them and no harm was done except to my modesty. The earrings actually looked good either way. No one cared.

Turns out I did not change even into my 70ish years. You would think getting wiser follows along with getting older. No, that logic doesn’t work for me all the time. I think that I started out a few cards short of a full deck into my 30ish years, then I was always a bit behind mentally, with a capital B. The other night I was so tired that I slept all night with my pajamas on inside out. Sheesh. I still slept fine.

I remember my cousin made some inside out and upside down Halloween costume a while ago and she even did a video with instructions on how to make that weirdly unique outfit. I’m not sure it caught on but she thought it was a winner in the world of Halloween originality. The pants were the top and the top was the pants part. She can probably revive her idea for her upside down backwards costume if we ask her. Maybe I will ask her with compliments first, a lemon bar offering and suggest nicely that she should redo her costume idea. She’s always ready to share her expertise with a capital X.

By Valerie Halla

We have all heard the saying, “I thought I made a mistake one time, but I was mistaken” and I often berate myself for being careless and making silly mistakes now that I’m older, but then I think back. When I was younger and teaching elementary school, often the days would be tiring and stressful. We teachers would be working hard and looking forward to a vacation or the weekend. The job of teachers is physically and mentally tough. One morning I had picked up my brightly colored attendance folder in the office and as usual was about to take roll call and hot lunch count but I couldn’t find my folder. As my students got their backpacks, sweaters and other items settled and were taking their seats, I got their attention with my normal signal and asked, “Has anyone seen my bright yellow attendance folder?”

One helpful yet outspoken young third grader said, “Teacher, it’s tucked under your arm there.”

Sure enough, not wanting to misplace the folder, I had put it under my armpit as to free up my hands for collecting homework, notes and announcements that came my way. Feeling a bit embarrassed, I thanked my kind student and acknowledged my small mistake overlooking it quickly and moved on. After all, we all make mistakes, even teachers and setting an example in front of the 30 youngsters that we learn from our mistakes but we forgive and forget and forge on was a valuable lesson

Another teacher told me she had goofed now and then also and sometimes you are just tired and get careless. She was getting her first grade students ready to go home and lining up bussers, walkers and those who stayed after school for daycare into different lines. She was rushing and picked up a sweater she had found haphazardly. “Class, whose sweater is this?” she chimed in her loud friendly voice.

A little boy’s voice softly told her as he got closer, “Uhhh, Mrs. Smith, that’s your sweater.” She felt silly but brushed it off saying “thank you” to him.

Mistakes happen and they don’t just happen to old folks even though we aren’t as sharp as we used to be. A good thing to do is just acknowledge your errors and move forward.

Another teacher and I had a deal to timeout any students in each other’s class, if any were repeatedly misbehaving. We would send over a note with the student and have that kid sit by us at an extra timeout desk we had set up for a period of time. This teacher and I also liked the old “Little Rascal’s” movies, especially the ones with the adorable kind young teacher they had ironically named “Miss Crabapple” or “Crabby”. She was far from being crabby which made it all the funnier. We even took up the habit of calling one another “Crabby”. As we passed in the office or went by taking our class to PE or recess we would yell out, “Hey, Crabby!” to one another.

One day I was absent and a crotchety older teacher who had retired was subbing for me unbeknownst to my teacher friend. This older retired teacher had a reputation for being strict and grumpy in the 30 years she had taught. My teacher friend sent over a student of hers for a timeout with a note that explained, “Crabby- please timeout Devon for 15 minutes. Thanks.”

When I returned the next day my friend had found out that the “Crabby” note had gone to the grumpy old substitute teacher and told me about it. We both had a laugh but also felt badly for the sub. The older sub lady had never said anything about the note so maybe she had shrugged it off or understood my friend hadn’t been calling her a crabby teacher but meant the note for me.

Over twenty years later we still laugh about the mistake with the Crabby note going to the wrong person and now that I am retired, I often go visit school where I taught and did testing for over 30 years. My friend, who is much younger than me, sees me across campus sometimes and yells out, “Hi, Crabby!” and I yell back, “Hey, Crabby!” We still like the old story about the day I wasn’t at school and we still like the Little Rascals.

THE STRANGER WHO SHOWS UP ON HALLOWEEN

By Baba Wawa

Rarely do I see people I want to interview twice. As a famous celebrity reporter who has interviewed or tried to interview Taylor Swiffer, Kim Karcrashing, and others, I was intrigued by this character as I strolled down the lovely streets recently, of our small town, the fall wind foreboding an eerie encounter soon to unfold.

Pumpkins, colorful gourds, fake giant spiders in glittery webs, and various Halloween holiday decorations popping up in yards as I slowly made my way through town, the snap, crackle, pop of fall leaves sounding underfoot as I walked along. (Geez, suddenly I craved some Rice Krispies with cold milk! Wouldn’t that taste good about now?)

~Baba, do not get distracted. See if you can sneak up on that tall, mysterious, gangly stranger back there and get a quick interview.~

I got my short interview with the mysterious stranger but he is still not talking. He’s pretty stubborn. Maybe I will try again next year. He is the tall slim quiet type. I’m usually not shy but this guy kinda creeped me out. I need some Rice Krispies to help revive me.

READY OR NOT

You can’t be 70ish without thinking about death. Sorry, please do not give up on me yet. I’m going to make this as painless as possible and throw in a few jokes to sooth your worries.

Grandpa Sanderson’s favorite indoor sport later in his senior years was attending funerals. When you’re young, it’s not a number one priority but in his generation and with his kind and generous spirit and upbringing, you attended church and you loyally attended funerals for friends and loved ones who have passed.

Now that I am in my early 70’s, I understand since recently I’ve lost some good friends and relatives. One of our longtime friends passed away in August and she was 70ish. Her husband of 54 years taught math and science with a lot of our friends at our local school for over 30 years. He’s taking it really hard. He called me yesterday for my birthday. We had a solid conversation with some philosophy and emotional support thrown in. It was intense. After the happy birthday wishes, he talked about his wife’s death. He is reading books on grieving and joining a support group. He was numb and did not know his own name for two weeks after she passed away, he told me. Then he said his wife sent a message to him from the after life and he realized she wanted him to keep loving others. He decided to use his time left on Earth to learn. She wanted him to learn about himself and others throughout this grieving process. To turn it into another chapter in life and not hang his head in sorrow.

It was good to hear him speak of his experience. He’s always been a caring, thoughtful man. He has these 70ish years left to learn and grow. His wife would have wanted him to keep learning, to keep loving life like she did.

Our sons visited this week. One from LA and one from the Bay Area. I was chatting away as we sat around our old kitchen table (an antique table that sat in Grandma and Grandpa’s South Dakota cabin long ago). I was telling them about teacher friends and family that had passed away. Our oldest son said. “Uh, I have a rule that you can’t mention more than two people who have died in our conversation.” He did it with a half smile on his face. He didn’t explain himself so I figured he was teasing. Later I decided that being 42, he didn’t want to hear about dead people. On the other side being 70ish, I’m experiencing several close friends passing away which leads to realizing how close to death I am at this age and stage.

Back to my phone conversation with our friend who’s wife died last month: his wife who had cancer 13 years ago and had beaten it for the time being, always said on her birthday each year she was so happy to be here. She was glad to be alive. She loved and learned in the time she had left.

It’s another part of being older whether you’re 65 or 75 or 85. We face the end differently the closer we get to it. Our son joked around by making up a rule about dead people in conversation. That’s how he dealt with the subject. And that’s fine.

I once heard that our first name is Birth and our last name is Death. I don’t like that saying. I prefer the old saying: you’re as young as you feel. I also prefer my friend opting for continued learning and loving in life. And his message to me that day was “Happy Birthday” so I am still celebrating my birth, another year to look forward to and having that cocktail and enjoying that sunset.

What’s cookin? By Lav

Easy Peasy Apple Crisp by LAV

I was fortunate enough to get some green apples from a friend’s tree and as the 8 apples sat on my kitchen counter speaking to me or maybe they were staring at me – no – potatoes have eyes, not apples. Anyway, I thought of an easy recipe I had for Apple Crisp which would be simpler than baking a pie. So I got busy this morning, before it got too hot, and put it all together.

As my husband and I get older, we think about our birthdays. How should we celebrate? Will this be our last one? Will we get to celebrate with our family and friends? Should we do something special, because we don’t have many more chances to enjoy our time here on the planet?

I’m all for a big splurge. I want to go on a trip somewhere exotic or unique. Some place I’ve never been before. Who knows at my age if I will ever get to go on my dream trip? We usually go out for lunch or dinner at a snazzy restaurant or to eat our favorite cuisine to celebrate senior birthdays. This year I want to try something bigger and better and funner.

This year for my birthday, I told my husband I want to visit Charleston and Savannah to tour the historic homes, museums and Civil War sites. I’ve always wanted to go there. I went ahead and looked into arrangements for such a trip to celebrate being 70ish. My hygienist and friend of 25 years even gave me the name of her daughter’s great travel agency. I called and talked to a travel agent there who had me flying high on ideas and wondrous destinations in the South! He painted a visual canvas of fascinating places to see with stays at old remodeled 1850’s style inns and romantic southern foods at lavish intimate dinners overlooking lush gardens with trees covered in Spanish moss. I was enthralled. I was ready.

The tour trip was called Southern Charms but there was nothing charming about the cost of a week long trip to Charleston and Savannah in the fall. My heart and my hopes sunk. My husband said he didn’t want to go on any tours. He also said it’s too expensive. Maybe I will go alone. It costs half as much that way.

Then later as we discussed what else to do for my special birthday, one like no other, he may have been fooling around, just joking, which he does tongue in cheek quite successfully. I was cooking something at the stove. He said, “I’ll take you out to dinner for your birthday- first to Burger King then to Dairy Queen for dessert.”

I just stared at him a minute.

I hope he wasn’t too badly injured by the flying frying pan.

Baba is back. We’re not sure where she’s been, but she has returned.

Do you remember the song “Sunflower” by Glenn Campbell? Soup? It was Yram’s mother’s favorite song. Bean soup was her favorite soup.

Can Baba interview Arnold or Taylor? More importantly, can she interview Klip and May, the easy ones? Can she fertilize and water her sad roses? On a lighter note: Her sunflowers and beans look pretty good, so we have hope. Stay tuned but don’t hold your breath.