Those 70ish Girls

Do you know what this is?

It belongs to the cat. It’s big enough for several cats, so it should do the trick for Dollie. She likes to be outside, but has to stay inside the fence. (When we travel, she doesn’t go outside at all.) Kip did a good job, don’t you think? It only took seven or eight trips to Lowe’s for materials. If he goes back for stain or paint, I’ll complain.

Meanwhile, my she shed is going unattended. Our friend, Scott, came over and gave Kip some good ideas on how to make it totally airtight and when that is completed, I can start to move my precious things in there. I haven’t found my round rug yet, but I’m going to paint the concrete, anyway. I’ve decided I want to finish the inside with reclaimed wood. That’s not very expensive is it? I would like a window, but that can happen later if need be.

Kip knows I’ve never been a very patient person, so the third time I mentioned my she shed to him (today) he said he had moved it up on the list of things to do. Tomorrow, I’ll ask him what else is on the list.

Kip’s birthday is on Monday and I’ve already decided to give him a gift certificate from Lowe’s. Do you think he’ll figure out it’s to help with the expenses to finish the she shed? I won’t write that in the card or anything. Men are impossible to buy for anyway. They have everything they need and what they don’t need, they don’t want. Kip usually shops for himself. He’ll say, “Here’s the drill you bought me for Christmas. Thank you very much.”

I don’t think he’s had the time to shop for his birthday, yet. I’m also going to make him his favorite, Tang pie. I know it doesn’t sound good, but it’s delicious.

One thing I never, ever do is keep Kip from his desserts.

I went to a new bakery today with my friend, Barbara, and this is what I brought home for him. He’s saving it for one hour.

Oh, Kip’s cake. I’ll just have a little bite.

I’m going to have a she shed! I’m fixing up a little shed that is on the back of our lot. When we bought the lot, the shed was full of things the previous owner had left behind and it smelled of mice droppings. We cleaned out everything but a large cabinet and a really unique, rather large shelf made from pipe and wood.

My son asked me if I had power. I told him I had all of the power over my she shed. He said, “No Mom, I meant electricity.”

It hasn’t been sheet-rocked and the floor is concrete, but the roof doesn’t leak and Kip is going to calk and repair a few places so mud daubers and other things can’t get in. He has already put electricity in and installed three neon lights he bought at the church garage sale. He has also put in two plug-ins.

My she shed reminds me of the time when I was about five and made a playhouse in the neighbors garbage shed. It only lasted until my mom said she wouldn’t come for coffee because where there is garbage there’s usually rats. I hauled my 2 little chairs back home and opened up a lemonade stand.

I have big plans for my she shed when I get it all fixed up. My biggest challenge will be to keep Kip from violating my space with any of his stuff.

I am going to set up a Beasterhop town, and keep some of my hat collection in there. I’ll have a small desk and a bookcase. We’re going to paint the concrete floor, but I’m keeping my eyes open for a round rug that’s in good shape and cheap. I bought a rotating, standing fan today for $9.00.

I have agreed to a canvas zippered garment rack that will store our winter coats. It also has a couple of shelves for boots or shoes.

The dimensions of my she shed are 10′ x 12′ so I should have enough room for me and one visitor.

Do you want to come for coffee? How about lemonade?

It still needs a little work… plus landscaping…I’ll call you.

After reading our miss Murdo Girl’s papers from yesterday and today, it appears she is learning how to rationalize a situation. The goal being to avoid trouble whenever possible. She is growing up, but she’s not going willingly. At least today, she didn’t try to use any ten dollar words like surreptitiously.

I had to start wearing nylons. It seems that when you get to the 8th grade, you’re supposed to wear them when you dress up. We went to Winner for a music contest, and that’s when some of the girls decided it was time to start wearing “hose.” I had to play a saxophone solo, and those darn nylons ruined it.

There are boys who read this. Oh well, I don’t care. They should know what we go through.

You have to wear a garter belt to hold your nylons on your leg. It is a very weird contraption. The top of the belt goes around your waist. There are four straps hanging from the belt. On the end of the straps you have doohickys. (There are four of them.) You put the top of the nylon under the bottom part of the doohicky. It has a button-like thing on it. I think they are called garters. The top garter goes on the top and buttons to the bottom garter. That’s what keeps your nylon up. The whole thing is called a garter belt. The nylons come separately.

Me without doohickys…Karen and Kim Lindquist

Right in the middle of my solo, the doohicky on the back of one leg came loose, and the nylon slipped right off, which caused the front to sag. I finally got an opportunity to glance down when the piano player who was accompanying me, had a little part that I didn’t play my saxophone to. I could see the nylon was a wrinkled mess just like Grandma’s hose (nylons) always are because they don’t make them small enough for her. Grandma wears a girdle to keep her nylons up, but it doesn’t work. Besides, you still have to deal with the doohickys attached to the girdle. (Some older ladies just roll them down over a rubber band. I wonder if that works better.) Well, at least the front doohicky on my garters never came all the way off, which was a blessing. I feared that all the doohickys would come off and I’d be standing there with my hose around my ankles.

Anyway, for the very first time in my life, I didn’t get a Superior on my solo, because I was too distracted to remember all of it. I can’t even tell people about it, because it’s going to sound like an elaborate excuse, and they’ll think the real reason is that I didn’t practice my solo enough times to memorize it better.

Mom (all the way to the left) when she was about my age…Doohicky?

It just wasn’t a good experience all around. Mom threw a hissy fit because I forgot to mention I volunteered her to take me and some other kids to the contest. I told her the day before. She said I hadn’t even told her I was playing a solo, although I’m pretty sure I did. She asked me when I practiced because she very seldom heard me.

She didn’t even care about my doohicky dilema.

Mom and I during better times

We have several friends who have been dealing with health issues recently, so I thought I would go over some tips I told you about last year when Kip was recovering from major back surgery.

I’ve learned so much since then that I have culled a few and added some that I think you will find beneficial. I’m the kind of person who likes to be helpful whenever possible.

After a three month recovery period, we headed out for a six week RV trip. I knew there would be many things we wouldn’t be able to do, but I thought it would be good for Kip to take a leisurely trip to a warmer place so he could take a break from the rehab routine.

We stopped at the beautiful Cattail State Park near Lake Havasu in Nevada. The next morning, Kip said he felt like going for a little walk. I knew we wouldn’t be going very far, but I brought his cane just in case it was needed. Please see the all important tips below.

1) Let the patient take the lead. That way they will automatically set the pace they are comfortable with. Even though you would probably speed walk, remember, this is not for you, it’s for the good of the weakened invalid.

Good a nice little walk. Oh, there’s stairs. Okay…see, I’m staying a little behind on purpose.

“DO YOU NEED THE CANE, KIP?”

2) Always wear shoes with laces

Slow down a bit Sammie and Pattie..You shouldn’t strain on your leashes. Oh shoot, “KIP, I HAVE TO TIE MY SHOE!” Good…he stopped to wait. He’s too proud to tell me he needed a break.

3) Always be the designated picture taker

“I see you! I just stopped to take a picture of this pretty plant.”

4) Watch out for danger of any kind. “Are there snakes up there? Did you see that cave? Pumas hide in caves!”

4) Be sure and stay back far enough in case a Puma flies out of a cave. That way he can’t get both of you, and I can run for help. Beat the snake with your (I mean Kip’s) cane.

I’m pretty sure that’s a mirage. I’m really thirsty. Maybe it’s the Blue Lagoon.

“I’ll just wait here until you turn around! My knee is really bothering me…and my allergies are too. I have a headache!”

I accidentally let go of Sammie and Pattie’s leashes. Oh well, they like to run free.

5) Don’t be too hard on yourself. Everybody has an injury flare up. Just look at poor Kip. He just had major back surgery. I can’t see him. I hope he’s okay.

“What are you looking at me for? I typed on your blog for a while, then I took a little cat nap.”

6) Just keep telling yourself. “The cat is fat! The cat is fat.”

We’re having pork chops. Murdo Girl is resting. She tripped over her cane and fell into a mirage.

The only thing I dislike more than cleaning is having a dirty house. The one thing I got used to during my recent health issues, is people coming over and seeing my house a dirty mess. That’s when company usually comes anyway, right? They never pop in when you’ve just sterilized the place. I realized I didn’t have to let it bother me. I now love having people drop in to visit.My mother once said to put get well cards on your fireplace mantle and other places even if you haven’t been sick. People will understand why they can write their name on your furniture. She also said to limp and hold a cold cloth to your head, but I think that’s going a little too far. Another idea is to throw sheets over all of your furniture and tell everyone you’re getting ready to paint. How about having some toys and crackers on the floor and then saying your neighbor with six kids just left, or put a hat on and carry your purse and say you were just about to leave. I may never clean my house again…even though I have every cleaning product known to man. I also have three vacuums, two swifters, two sponge mops, one small string mop (I need a big one), and a combination floor/rug cleaner.I took the bait when I saw the thingy on TV that you attach to your vacuum hose and it’s supposed to reach all the way into your dryer vent. It didn’t work.I can’t get a window clean to save my soul. I’ve tried newspaper, a squeegee, vinegar and as a last resort, I even tried windex.Well, now that I’ve drug everything out, I’m too tired. I’ll leave it out until tomorrow, just in case company comes.One other thing. Never shove things in closets, drawers and under the bed when you see someone pull into your driveway. Kip and I are still looking for things we stuffed different places last time, and the car only pulled into our driveway to turn around.

Mom would be proud.Seriously…come and see me anytime!

Grandpa drove us crazy and other places too. His car had super powers…boy, the things that it could do.

Off to Prairie Creek he went. Grandma by his side. The two grandsons in the back had a real wild ride.
Grandpa revved the motor to build up all his speed. And then he sashayed up the hill, with speed he didn’t need.

(“We’ll park it where it stops,” he said, and everyone agreed.)

He headed for the lake with another young grandson. They were both excited to get out and have some fun.”We have to turn around, I forgot the lunch I packed.” He hit the ditch and gunned it and in no time they were back.

(They had warm milk and sandwiches in a thermos and a sack.)

Grandpa drove the cheerleaders to a high school game. If they got there late, he was not to blame. It was thirty miles away, but he clocked twenty-five. I think four out of five of them felt glad to be alive. It was a winding road he was supposed to twist and turn.

(Grandpa drove straight all the way and we had time to burn.)

He made it everywhere he went and Grandma rode along. We all lived to tell about those times now all long gone. The buzzer on the old Ford set at the speed limit. Buzzed all the way to everywhere.

(It seemed like every minute.)

When he took his grandkids fishing, he was always in his glory. Our fears began when he started telling story after story. He’d turn around to look, at those who sat behind.

(The car swerved to the road’s edge or crossed a double line.)

“Sit on the front fender and you can watch for pheasant.” The idea was a good one, but what happened wasn’t pleasant. Grandpa saw the birds, hit the brakes and honked the horn.

(The boys became airborne and landed in a field of corn.)

The car must have sensed it must try and stay on track, because we always made it there and somehow made it back.

It’s my brother’s birthday today, so I decided to write a little poem to highlight some of my most poignant memories of growing up with him.

There are two sides to every story

Mom said, “Come sit in the rocking chair and you can rock the baby there.”

She said he sat and didn’t speak. A tear rolled down his little cheek.

Billy loved his little sister, held her tight and even kissed her.

Mom said, “Your sister will soon be awake. Rock her please, I need a break.”

The baby cried and so did Billy. Together they were oh so shrilly.

He held her tight but didn’t kiss her. If she left, he wouldn’t miss her.

Later…

He said,” Mom I’ll watch her if you wish. I’ll stay home instead of fish.

The guys can all come over here. We’ll play cards so we can see her.

She’ll play with toys and have some fun. She won’t bother anyone.”

“Really Mom? I was wishing the guys and I could all go fishing.

Now I guess I’ll have to stay and take care of Mary for the day.”

We tried to play poker at the table. Unfortunately we weren’t able.

She walked around with dirty diapers. Those guys were a bunch of gripers.

They all left and wouldn’t you know it. Billy had a straight and couldn’t show it.

He said, “On the way to school, after dinner, We’ll race to see who’ll be the winner.

 “I promise I won’t run too fast. I bet some days you’ll run right passed.”

I ran as fast as my legs could. Someday I’d win! I knew I would.

But as I got close to the finish line. He’d speed up to pass me just in time.

His senior year I patiently waited for the day he graduated.

I knew that it would seem that Billy couldn’t be that mean.

Yes, when the race was almost over, I’d catch up and he’d move over.

I would win after four long years of never hearing a winner’s cheers.

He just could not give in. He couldn’t slow down and let me win.

When he left he kissed my cheek, I didn’t wash it for a week.

Happy Birthday to the best brother anyone could ever have…I love you!

 

 

 

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