to shape up in 2010!
Please bear in mind that I am writing this on 12/30 with so many black and blue marks and bruises from my recent auto wreck that I couldn't exercise if I had to.
However, back in shape I must get. Boy did I love water aerobics ... right up until that first chilly day in late September. I loved it so much that I must have forgotten how to walk. I was a great walker. Now I must be retrained. It will have to stop raining quite so vigorously. Somehow between the end of aerobics mit vasser and today many pounds and flab have found their way to my once more svelte body.
I hereby resolve to resume my walking ways, not just to work and the grocery store, but the long way, down the train tracks, past the gardens and big old Victorian houses, and on the weekends I promise to rediscover what a great venue (sports word) Washington on the Brazos can be.
I'll be back in walking mode ... until they open the pool.
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
Saturday, November 7, 2009
"with no particular place to go"
This will sound like one of those joke stories about older folks wandering through an unplanned day!
This is most unusual, a Saturday with no plans. After an hour or so of internet time, feeding fish, sharing visits, and reading what others are up to, I decide to visit my friend Helen's stop on the All Navasota Citywide Garage Sale to pick up a jar of her exceptional orange marmalade. While doing that I remember that her fallow "saler" works at Camp Allen and daughter Kathy has inquired about an old camp songbook. She just happened to have some of the words to "Johnny Appleseed" on her Facebook page this morning. Oddly enough, Mary Jane, Cat and I had been talking about camp meal blessings on Thursday.
So I drive to Camp Allen, which has grown into a lovely facility much changed from forty years ago. And, the gift shop doesn't have any old song books. But, since I'm not far from Hempstead and could use some fresh vegetables, I drive on over there. Walking into DiIorios Farmers Market I run smack into Margaret G. (a member of the Huntington Village bunch) and we have a nice visit during which she mentions that she lives on Kickapoo Road (not far from where the subdivision is going in over which we are having serious hearings at work). After picking up a new pair of Lee pants at the Lee outlet mall and having a delicious Summer Special at Las Fuentes (my favorite Mexican restaurant) I decide to go see Kickapoo Preserve subdivision for myself. While there I take a couple of pictures to show the boss. Then a circuitous route home through much of Waller County ...very pretty.
Now home and time to bake some zucchini bread ... with walnuts ... pecan prices were through the roof.
Now five hours have passed since I went out to buy a jar of marmalade. I have new pants, fresh veggies and the impetus to bake.
Good thing I didn't have any plans today!
This is most unusual, a Saturday with no plans. After an hour or so of internet time, feeding fish, sharing visits, and reading what others are up to, I decide to visit my friend Helen's stop on the All Navasota Citywide Garage Sale to pick up a jar of her exceptional orange marmalade. While doing that I remember that her fallow "saler" works at Camp Allen and daughter Kathy has inquired about an old camp songbook. She just happened to have some of the words to "Johnny Appleseed" on her Facebook page this morning. Oddly enough, Mary Jane, Cat and I had been talking about camp meal blessings on Thursday.
So I drive to Camp Allen, which has grown into a lovely facility much changed from forty years ago. And, the gift shop doesn't have any old song books. But, since I'm not far from Hempstead and could use some fresh vegetables, I drive on over there. Walking into DiIorios Farmers Market I run smack into Margaret G. (a member of the Huntington Village bunch) and we have a nice visit during which she mentions that she lives on Kickapoo Road (not far from where the subdivision is going in over which we are having serious hearings at work). After picking up a new pair of Lee pants at the Lee outlet mall and having a delicious Summer Special at Las Fuentes (my favorite Mexican restaurant) I decide to go see Kickapoo Preserve subdivision for myself. While there I take a couple of pictures to show the boss. Then a circuitous route home through much of Waller County ...very pretty.
Now home and time to bake some zucchini bread ... with walnuts ... pecan prices were through the roof.
Now five hours have passed since I went out to buy a jar of marmalade. I have new pants, fresh veggies and the impetus to bake.
Good thing I didn't have any plans today!
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
The saddest part of all of this
is still to be determined. I keep trying to evaluate whether the saddest part is that we still live in a country where large numbers of people are significantly prejudiced against the people who do not look like them.
Or, is it sadder still, that in the name of appearances, in the interest of appearing not to be prejudiced, they shield themselves from appearing such by attacking every other part of every person who falls into that category.
Come to the country, small town Texas, and listen carefully. Go to a larger East Texas city. If, like I, you tend to be a coward about your lack of prejudice and voice it only when you think you won't be castigated for it, people (white people) let loose with their hidebound, long-held fear, hatred, disrespect, of not only black people, but of Hispanic people and Asian people.
If you thought it went away after the 60's, or the 70's, it didn't. It went even deeper underground, because it was less politically correct. And when "they" find a spokesperson who shares their prejudices, but also prates on about socially and politically acceptable differences, hallelujah, jump on the band wagon.
The question for the future well may be ... are they passing it on to their children and grandchildren. Will "good old boys" who find themselves on the ball field with boys of another race and who make friends with them, be as inclined to hang on to the old ways? Will a person being treated in an emergency room by a nurse or doctor with a different last name or accent still feel the same?
Long ago (fifty years, at least) my Southern bred husband found himself sharing a small office on a Navy ship with an Eastern black man who happened to have a Master's Degree and was also serving out his two years of reserve naval duty. Husband was amazed, and forever changed in his racial attitudes by their friendship.
When I was a little kid and Southern Negroes were moving to the Midwest in droves, finding themselves far behind their chronological peers and struggling to fit in I thought I saw the future, the answer. We'd all get to know each other, over the long haul there would be massive intermarriage and soon no one would know who came from what original race. It sounded like a great solution. It is not the only thing about which I was completely wrong.
But, maybe someday.
Or, is it sadder still, that in the name of appearances, in the interest of appearing not to be prejudiced, they shield themselves from appearing such by attacking every other part of every person who falls into that category.
Come to the country, small town Texas, and listen carefully. Go to a larger East Texas city. If, like I, you tend to be a coward about your lack of prejudice and voice it only when you think you won't be castigated for it, people (white people) let loose with their hidebound, long-held fear, hatred, disrespect, of not only black people, but of Hispanic people and Asian people.
If you thought it went away after the 60's, or the 70's, it didn't. It went even deeper underground, because it was less politically correct. And when "they" find a spokesperson who shares their prejudices, but also prates on about socially and politically acceptable differences, hallelujah, jump on the band wagon.
The question for the future well may be ... are they passing it on to their children and grandchildren. Will "good old boys" who find themselves on the ball field with boys of another race and who make friends with them, be as inclined to hang on to the old ways? Will a person being treated in an emergency room by a nurse or doctor with a different last name or accent still feel the same?
Long ago (fifty years, at least) my Southern bred husband found himself sharing a small office on a Navy ship with an Eastern black man who happened to have a Master's Degree and was also serving out his two years of reserve naval duty. Husband was amazed, and forever changed in his racial attitudes by their friendship.
When I was a little kid and Southern Negroes were moving to the Midwest in droves, finding themselves far behind their chronological peers and struggling to fit in I thought I saw the future, the answer. We'd all get to know each other, over the long haul there would be massive intermarriage and soon no one would know who came from what original race. It sounded like a great solution. It is not the only thing about which I was completely wrong.
But, maybe someday.
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Computer Illiteracy
My first encounter with the modern computer age happened in the mid 70's when I was Media Director for a good sized Houston agency. The owner was ahead of his time in computerized media buying. Whenever Arbitron completed a measurement of the audience we would receive huge tapes ... bigger than an LP album which I took to the Rice University main-frame (about a football field sized basement full of huge computing devices). I would hand it through to a Rice fellow who then installed it on the Rice computer and head back to my office on the West Loop. Some time later my little computer would access it and do miraculous computating to determine the most efficient radio and television schedules for our clients. I was ahead of the computer curve.
At radio stations where I managed sales staffs, at the dealership where not only the dealer but his bright sons as well, knew everything about computers, my education expanded. I can remember envelope printing when not only did you have to feed them in a very specific way, but also stand just so and breathe quietly. I learned Symphony, Lotus, Word Perfect, Mediatron, and a zillion other brands of software. I still learn new software.
But, here's where our computer curve differs from our previous office experiences. When we ladies learned typing, whether at Wauwatosa Senior High School, Lamar High School, or Buddy's Business Academy, we all learned to type the very same way, with the very same "asdfjkl;" system. We learned where to put our fingers on the identical keyboards, how to capitalize and how to advance the page.
Computers? We all learned differently. Maybe you started at home with a Commodore, or at school with an Apple, or at a cash register that was a computer. Maybe you took a class, or a lot of classes. I took a Leisure Learning class to learn "Spreadsheets" or some such.
Point being, no two of us learned to use a computer exactly the same way. All of our experiences are different and so are most of our shortcuts, most of what comes automatically when we sit down to a keyboard.
And then, you go to work for or with someone whose entire computing experiences are based on another planet entirely. They want you to do it their way. Never mind that your itinerary takes you to an identical result. They want you to do it their way. Talk about "old dogs and new tricks" ... one person's "literacy" is another's foreign language.
At radio stations where I managed sales staffs, at the dealership where not only the dealer but his bright sons as well, knew everything about computers, my education expanded. I can remember envelope printing when not only did you have to feed them in a very specific way, but also stand just so and breathe quietly. I learned Symphony, Lotus, Word Perfect, Mediatron, and a zillion other brands of software. I still learn new software.
But, here's where our computer curve differs from our previous office experiences. When we ladies learned typing, whether at Wauwatosa Senior High School, Lamar High School, or Buddy's Business Academy, we all learned to type the very same way, with the very same "asdfjkl;" system. We learned where to put our fingers on the identical keyboards, how to capitalize and how to advance the page.
Computers? We all learned differently. Maybe you started at home with a Commodore, or at school with an Apple, or at a cash register that was a computer. Maybe you took a class, or a lot of classes. I took a Leisure Learning class to learn "Spreadsheets" or some such.
Point being, no two of us learned to use a computer exactly the same way. All of our experiences are different and so are most of our shortcuts, most of what comes automatically when we sit down to a keyboard.
And then, you go to work for or with someone whose entire computing experiences are based on another planet entirely. They want you to do it their way. Never mind that your itinerary takes you to an identical result. They want you to do it their way. Talk about "old dogs and new tricks" ... one person's "literacy" is another's foreign language.
There are many things worse than heartbreak....
unless you are the one with the broken heart!
I do not ever wish to appear unsympathetic especially not when I have so many friends with serious health issues for whom I pray every day.
But, if you have your health and your heart is broken, it is difficult to be upbeat and positive about the direction of life.
One thing I know for sure, the best medicine is to stay too damn busy to think about who is missing in the everyday. If someone else is calling, or texting or e-mailing, its easier to overlook that he isn't. Even better is live conversation, you know, the old fashioned kind where you're sitting across from a friend and exchanging ideas, or recipes, or punch lines.
So far I have signed up for a new Bible study at church, joined a photography club (even though they are very silly and I'm not much of a photographer), visited friends, read several good books, especially the most recent Tess Gerritson. I regularly spend my Friday nights having good food with good buddies in Millican. All my girls, daughters, in-laws and grand, have kept talking to me even if they're sick of hearing my "sad story."
I have gotten my flu shot, which may be what gave me a first time ever case of hives. I found out that the Navasota Hospital has a great emergency room with new facilities and very kind nurse and doctor. I don't love the emotional roller coaster resulting from the steriod shot (only I would get weepy instead of rage!) but I am very glad to itch no more.
Maybe proof reading this will make me aware of how very fortunate I really am. Maybe I was right all those years when I made no effort at all to have any "relationship" with any man.
And, maybe he will call ....
I do not ever wish to appear unsympathetic especially not when I have so many friends with serious health issues for whom I pray every day.
But, if you have your health and your heart is broken, it is difficult to be upbeat and positive about the direction of life.
One thing I know for sure, the best medicine is to stay too damn busy to think about who is missing in the everyday. If someone else is calling, or texting or e-mailing, its easier to overlook that he isn't. Even better is live conversation, you know, the old fashioned kind where you're sitting across from a friend and exchanging ideas, or recipes, or punch lines.
So far I have signed up for a new Bible study at church, joined a photography club (even though they are very silly and I'm not much of a photographer), visited friends, read several good books, especially the most recent Tess Gerritson. I regularly spend my Friday nights having good food with good buddies in Millican. All my girls, daughters, in-laws and grand, have kept talking to me even if they're sick of hearing my "sad story."
I have gotten my flu shot, which may be what gave me a first time ever case of hives. I found out that the Navasota Hospital has a great emergency room with new facilities and very kind nurse and doctor. I don't love the emotional roller coaster resulting from the steriod shot (only I would get weepy instead of rage!) but I am very glad to itch no more.
Maybe proof reading this will make me aware of how very fortunate I really am. Maybe I was right all those years when I made no effort at all to have any "relationship" with any man.
And, maybe he will call ....
Friday, July 17, 2009
Aging Gracefully
Among the many things I am doing this year, aging gracefully is certainly not one.
I have long observed that as people age ... we're talking over 65 here ... people tend to develop personality directions. Some, who have been impatient and hard charging actually appear to mellow and begin to enjoy a slower pace, a kinder slant. Others, who once prided themselves on their ability to get along, to cope, to deal with the slings and arrows, suddenly find that their patience has ebbed, their coping skills evaporated and their view of life on the planet grown dimmer.
I fit into the second category. And, I'm not the only one who has noticed it. Some of my nearest and dearest are finding it difficult to contend with.
Some of the causes include failing memory skills ("where have I put those durn keys this time");
or maybe the economic situation that requires a full time job (working for a man even older than I), and probably most notable, the realization that life is winding down, it has not been particular successful or fulfilling and the chance of improving the track record looks mighty slim. These are not mellowing ingredients.
Most of all, I find myself behaving in exactly the way my mother did (altho' she was much older when it became noticeable) and getting the same results in my childrens' behavior that I exhibited.
Further, when you start going to an increased number of funerals, or reading about old friends in various obituaries, the mortality of it all does impress. Maybe that's what makes me most impatient. I need to read more, write more, see more friends, keep track of grandchildrens' accomplishments, and remember to thank God for the ability to do it all.
I have long observed that as people age ... we're talking over 65 here ... people tend to develop personality directions. Some, who have been impatient and hard charging actually appear to mellow and begin to enjoy a slower pace, a kinder slant. Others, who once prided themselves on their ability to get along, to cope, to deal with the slings and arrows, suddenly find that their patience has ebbed, their coping skills evaporated and their view of life on the planet grown dimmer.
I fit into the second category. And, I'm not the only one who has noticed it. Some of my nearest and dearest are finding it difficult to contend with.
Some of the causes include failing memory skills ("where have I put those durn keys this time");
or maybe the economic situation that requires a full time job (working for a man even older than I), and probably most notable, the realization that life is winding down, it has not been particular successful or fulfilling and the chance of improving the track record looks mighty slim. These are not mellowing ingredients.
Most of all, I find myself behaving in exactly the way my mother did (altho' she was much older when it became noticeable) and getting the same results in my childrens' behavior that I exhibited.
Further, when you start going to an increased number of funerals, or reading about old friends in various obituaries, the mortality of it all does impress. Maybe that's what makes me most impatient. I need to read more, write more, see more friends, keep track of grandchildrens' accomplishments, and remember to thank God for the ability to do it all.
Another day with temperatures over 100 degrees?
Great! That means that when my fingers can no longer type from sitting in such a cold office I can dash outside and try to get them working again.
After more than fifty years in Texas I cannot become accustomed to being colder in the summer than I am in the winter. One of the good reasons for locating from friendly Wisconsin to Texas was to get away from freezing cold winter weather. And, still, I have to remember to take a sweater to shop at the grocery store in July because it is so cold. Now I have the great good fortune to work in an office where the man with the AC power thinks anything above 71 is too darn hot.
I am a moderate person. I have the beginnings of unpleasant arthritis in hands and wrists. Nothing makes them hurt more than cold blowing air. Maybe that's why I am having such a hard time dealing with this cold summer weather! It is my opinion that being "hot" is quite unpleasant for many people, often people of some size. However, being cold is, for me, painful. Why doesn't painful trump unpleasant?
After more than fifty years in Texas I cannot become accustomed to being colder in the summer than I am in the winter. One of the good reasons for locating from friendly Wisconsin to Texas was to get away from freezing cold winter weather. And, still, I have to remember to take a sweater to shop at the grocery store in July because it is so cold. Now I have the great good fortune to work in an office where the man with the AC power thinks anything above 71 is too darn hot.
I am a moderate person. I have the beginnings of unpleasant arthritis in hands and wrists. Nothing makes them hurt more than cold blowing air. Maybe that's why I am having such a hard time dealing with this cold summer weather! It is my opinion that being "hot" is quite unpleasant for many people, often people of some size. However, being cold is, for me, painful. Why doesn't painful trump unpleasant?
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