A Perfect Day to Hand Sew

When I started work on my latest and most intricate Quilt in June I thought the busy part of my year was behind me.  I had spent months helping my parents pack and move from multiple houses, which required me to also run an estate sale.  I really wanted to work on a project that brought me peace, creativity and happiness.  The tiny stars were the most time consuming thing I have ever done, but I just plugged away.  They took me well into September to make the majority of, but I thought I was well on my way.

Then life and death got in the way.  Quilting projects are so low on the priority list.  I still kept at it as it is a good form of therapy between planning memorial services and teaching Mah Jongg.  Sometime in November I finally finished the quilt top.  I took it to my wonderful long arm quilter Tina.  My very intricate quilt with custom designed quilting was in a long line of projects she had to do.

While I waited I knocked out a Christmas present quilt for my sister and called Tina and asked if that quilt could take the place in-line of my stars quilt as it was a present.  So that pushed this quilt back even further.  Finally this week I picked it up.

I am so happy with the quilting job she did.  So today I started finishing the binding, which involves hours of hand sewing.  No better weekend than March Madness to sit and sew.

I was planning on watching basketball the whole time, but yesterday I started watching Yellowstone, which Carter had been telling me I would love. As usual, she was right, so I have been binging Yellowstone, sewing and following the basketball on my phone all at the same time. I almost lost it when Baylor tied it up with UNC and went into overtime. I didn’t dare turn the Chanel to the game in fear of jinxing UNC. Thankfully they won and I have completed about 65% of the binding. Tomorrow I should finish in three or four Yellowstones. The quilt will have taken ten months, but it is my favorite one, so I think it was worth it.

Back to Packing Lunch

Now that Russ’ new office is finished he has tried reentry. (In case you missed it eight months ago, Russ’ landlord asked him to switch spaces so that a major tenant could take all four floors of his building. Russ moved across the street, but not until the landlord did a major unfit on the space. Turns out to be a good move.)

Russ likes the new office, but misses his five second commute from our bedroom to his home office. He came home today complaining about the cost of lunch out in the real world. A Caesar salad with chicken from Press is $19, a sandwich from another place is $10, but add chips and a tip and it’s $15, even a salad from Moe’s is $14.

“I think being home with you for two years has your cheapness rub off on me. That and I like your cooking better,” Russ told me.

I think costs have gone up while he was home and he is noticing the big jump. He and I still talk about his favorite lunch place in New Jersey near the company where we met. He could get two slices of pizza and a fountain drink for two bucks. Those days are long gone.

While Russ may be spending time back in the office I am going to have to make him some lunches to take in. I thought my days of packing lunches was long gone, but if he wants them I will make them, especially if it means he is not spending $100 a week just on lunch.

Tomorrow we have to go dog bed shopping for Shay who wants to go back to the office with Russ. A new employee has a tiny dog named Anchovy and Shay needs to go in and meet her new employee as Shay is managing director of canines. I guess I will have to pack Shay’s lunch too because Russ is loath to spend $19 on himself, but happy to do it for Shay.

No Complaining

11:30 last night, as I lay tossing and turning desperate to go to sleep, Russ out for his two hour deep sleep, I heard a loud grumbling. It was a mechanical sound, like a tractor trailer idling outside my window. Worried that there was something wrong with our HVAC system so I got up to go explore. Out in the hall I flicked on the overhead light and it glowed an eerie gray green color. I heard the sound of the robot vacuum running in Russ’ nursery turned office.

Why was the vacuum running? I bent to push the off button, leaving the vacuum in place. With it off I thought the grumbling sound might subside, but it didn’t. I walked to the top of the stairs and looked down to the thermostat. The front hall lights go out automatically at different times every night. The thermostat normally lights up when you come down the stairs activated by your motion. Instead of showing me the orange glow of “heat on” mode with a temperature setting I saw a black and white picture of a wrench and hammer crossed over each other indicating something was broken.

How could the relatively new HVAC, be broken? I went down another set of stairs to the mechanical room, no sound. I flicked on that light switch, same gray green haunted-house semi-glow. That bad mechanical sound that had awoken me was not coming from inside my house. Thankfully, the scary movie feeling was starting to subside.

I opened the door to the garage and no noise was coming from there, but strangely the light on the dryer was on and I could not get it to go off. Something was off, but I couldn’t figure it out and I was just so tired and wanted to go to sleep, but the noise, that damn growling truck sound, what was it.

I walked back to my bedroom and by the time I got there the hall light was out. Who turned it off? Russ was still sound asleep. Then it dawned on me. The power was out. That sound I heard was big ass automatic generations from at least three of my neighbors.

I picked up my phone, it had not been on the charger very long and I had just a few percent change. I pulled up the Duke energy app to report a power outage. I was not the first. The app said it would be fixed by 3:45 AM. I wrapped two pillows around my head to drown out the growl and eventually fell asleep.

Shay woke me at 7:00. Still no power. Russ had gone out to pick up breakfast, not wanting to open the refrigerator. He told me Duke said it would be noon before power. He left for his new office. I went to the dentist. Both of us looked like we didn’t have power.

I got another text from Duke. 7:00PM we would get power. I stopped believing them. They were wrong again, it came back on around 5:15.

When I asked Russ about the revolt of the machines and the gray green lights he explained that one leg of the transformer had blown first so we were only getting partial power before the whole transformer went. Oh it’s so nice to have an electrical engineer as a husband, otherwise I might have thought we would have to sell the house.Thankfully now the growling is gone.

I am feeling a little guilty complaining about not having power for 18 hours when in Ukraine people are enduring unimaginable terror as well as no power, water or food. The growling of generators is nothing compared to the sounds of bombs. I am going to try and keep this little inconvenient in perspective.

Death or Taxes

I don’t know about you, but I don’t do our own taxes. We rely on a professional for that. The way taxes go these days Russ must pay state taxes in every state he works in. Some years he pays in 12 states. The same person who does our personal taxes also does Russ’ work taxes so she knows all the information about Russ she needs.

So getting together all the personal information for her to do our family taxes is my job. It is a job I hate for some reason, but have little reason for that. I have a little plastic bin in my office and anytime a bit of paper arrives in our house that might be tax related I put it in the bin. Then my only job is to organize it all and get it delivered to the accountants by March 15 along with the workbook where I answer a million questions. The answers to the questions are almost always “no.”

Did we instal an alternative fuel device this year?

Did we have a foreign debt forgiven?

Did either of us earn more than $20 in tips in any month?

Some of the questions are so complicated I don’t even understand the subject. I just answer, “no.”

For the whole month of February and half of March I have this dreaded feeling that I need to be working on the taxes. The feeling is worse than just going ahead and doing it. I am not a person who waits until a deadline to do something. I usually do everything early, except the taxes.

It is not that we often owe money, just the opposite. You would think I would do them quickly so we could get the money back, but no. Yesterday was March 15 so I sat down at my desk and did the taxes and dropped them off, right on time. Not early or late, although I know the accountants would always like them earlier.

I don’t know how I am ever going to change how I feel about doing this exercise I guess that only death will end it, so I am just going to have to live with it. Taxes are still better than death.

Mah Jongg Mouse

Tonight I was teaching at an unnamed club. For the record it is a very nice club. While the women were trying to concentrate on their tiles one screamed out. There was a mouse in the room. It was a tiny brown thing with huge big ears. The screaming scared the little thing. It ran under a door and into a kitchen.

Half the class got up to try and catch the mouse. It ran out into the main room, hugging the baseboard as it circled the room. One student grabbed a dust pan on a broom stick and a broom. We cornered the mouse. She caught it up in the dust pan, which was about 12 inches deep. Before she could get out of the room the mouse jumped out and continued its tour of the base boards.

We tried one more time, but failed. Three or four waitresses came in to try and catch the mouse, then a manager, and a second manager and an office worker. Eventually there were six club employees all in the tiny kitchen next to the ladies lounge.

Everyone gave up and we continued the lessons. A short while later we saw a mouse on the other side of the room. It had to be a second mouse. You know where there is one there are fifty.

Thankfully I am going to a totally different club tomorrow to teach. I hope no mice came with me.

Daylight Savings Mess

When is congress going to actually legislate and end daylight savings time, or standard time or whichever one is wrong and we don’t change our clocks? Springing forward is the dumbest idea ever. The mess that changing our clocks does can not be worth whatever reason we used to do it for.

Today I woke up at 4:15 AM, which was 3:15 my body’s time. I could not go back to sleep and since I had to leave for Raliegh at 7:45 I just stayed awake. Logic should have made me want to sleep later, but instead of springing forward I seemed to have spiraled into this big mess.

I taught two classes today so by the time I got home I was nothing but exhausted. Now I can hardly stay awake long enough to try and right my bloody clock. This could be a big bipartisan win if the parties would just go on and do it. The cost of unproductiveness and car accidents due to people’s sleep being impacted make it a no brainer. Changing the clocks does not change the amount of sunlight we get. You can’t make more sun, so don’t worry about what the hour says and just live with it.

Cake for $190…$200…$210…

With the exception of the tall red haired women who left the auction half way through, asking Russ on her way out, “Is that the way she is at home?” Most people who came to the Westminster cake auction appeared to have a good time. It helped that the youth did an excellent job running the worship services. Additionally there were more people back at live worship than there have been since the beginning of the pandemic. It also helped that everyone was comfortably seated in the new warm fellowship hall on this cold day.

There were more “cakes” than usual. Andy Dunk’s perennial favorite Carmelitas were perfectly portioned into three containers giving me a chance to auction them off separately, getting an ever greater amount with each successive one. I predicted to the audience that would happen. “Bid early or pay more later.” People don’t always believe me, but that was the case all day in all but one instance.

The competition was tough. When multiple families were bidding on the same item there could only be one winner. That left the unsuccessful bidders to then go all in on the next item. Thankfully it seems like most people who were bidding won something with just one or two exceptions.

The bidding really got crazy when the pastor’s kids were bidding against each other for their Grandmother’s cake. I had to keep telling them that I could not let one Tuttle child bid up another Tuttle child. In the end someone else won that cake and then gave it to them. Thank goodness because I was not about to let a PK pay $200 for a cake.

I was very happy the Simonson clan took home my cake as one of the daughters is an excellent baker herself. They paid dearly, but they are dears.

As I told the gathered faithful before we started, this was a fundraiser for a good cause and not a chance to get a pie for the price of one at Harris Teeter. The bidders bid accordingly and raised a great sum of money for the youth group summer trips. It is just a drop in the bucket as one of the trips is to Scotland, but it is good for the youth to understand that they need to raise money in many different ways.

22 Eggs…

Thank goodness no one took me up on the offer to make an additional one of these cakes for $500. This one took two days, 22 eggs, 2 pounds of butter and an untold amount of Chocolate. If I hadn’t promised to bring this cake for the Westminster youth group cake auction I would have cake is four layers of flourless chocolate cake, passion fruit glaze and chocolate ganache between each layer and three recipes of coffee buttercream and chocolate covered espresso beans for garnish.

I spent five hours in the kitchen yesterday, and got the cake mostly done. The weather was not perfect to make French Butter cream, an incredibly fussy frosting. So I made a second batch and left it in the fridge overnight. This morning I went to frost the cake and found that the second batch was a failure. So I had to make a third batch. Thankfully the first two batches were fine for a crumb coat and the third was decorative. Still this is a monster of a cake, at 18 inches long, 7 inches wide and five inches high and weighs at least six pounds.

Russ had to build a special box for us to carry it in since it would crack in half under its own weight if it was not fully supported underneath. It is safely in the fridge now, ready for transport to Church tomorrow. I can smell the deliciousness. This hint can serve at least 24 people, but the good news is it freezes perfectly because it is not a normal cake that could get dry.

I forgot how finicky butter cream is. I had many wedding cake nightmare during my catering years. I am happy not to revisit those days of being held hostage by the rain or humidity. The cold today actually helped me out and for that I am thankful. I could not possible make a forth batch of that butter cream.

Poor Yard Guys

It seems like I am reading daily about landscapers having their equipment stolen off their trucks while they are working in people’s yards. The item which most often gets reported as stolen are gas powered back pack leaf blowers. I am wondering if there is some hot black market ring for leaf blowers?

I for one hate those machines with a passion. They are so loud that you can hear one blowing half a mile away. There is a rule in our neighborhood that no one can use noise making yard machines before 8:00 AM on weekends, but plenty of people either don’t know it’s a rule or don’t care. We have an rechargeable battery powered leaf blower and the sound it makes is about a tenth of those gas ones. It also does not blow with the same power, so it takes longer.

Given the price of gas these days I am not sure why someone would want to steal one of those gas guzzlers, unless they are taking it for the gas. I am sorry for the yard guys who keep losing their equipment. I think some bike locks might be helpful or cameras on their trucks. It is incredibly bold of thieves to pull up behind a truck where the people are in the yard working and take things off the truck. With as many doorbell cameras as their are you would think they would get caught on tape.

The Corporate Slapping

Knowing exactly what the Russian people are hearing about the war is an interesting guessing game. Yes, Putin has prohibited anyone from saying or writing the world “war” and there are very few independent journalists reporting anything about Russia’s unprovoked invasion of a free country, the Russian people must know something big is going on. They may not be getting the news from official outlets, but perhaps they are figuring it out when the 850 Mac Donald’s are all closed suddenly.

What about all the employees of Starbucks, or PepsiCo which have stopped business in Russia. Don’t those people who have suddenly lost their jobs wonder why all the international companies doing business there are all stopping at the same time? Putin may be able to not have it reported in the news, but eventually citizens will put two and two together.

Uniqlo, the Japanese clothing store was remaining open saying that Russians still deserved to have clothes, but the world wide pressure got to them and now they too are closing. My thought when they said Russians still deserved clothes was, Ukrainians deserve to live their lives not being bombed! What a ridiculous statement from Uniqlo. It is indefensible. I’m never going back in one of their stores.

The world is a much smaller place than during the Cold War. Russia opened itself up to the world and the better and more desirable goods made anywhere, other than Russia and the people got addicted to them. I doubt that anyone under 50 in Russia is going to put up with not having Adidas as it closes 500 stores in the country, or any other luxury brand that Russians have come to love. Gucci and Louis Vuitton, what are you doing?

Visa and Mastercard have cut off credit cards to Russians outside Russia . These are the kinds of sanctions that can put the most pressure on Putin. Ordinary citizens having their life disrupted over a war they started is what needs to happen. I want our news media to continue to report who is still doing business with Russia and who is not. I am not going to support any business that stays in Russia. This is one way to support Ukraine and end this illegal war faster.

Shay’s Crush

Shay is not happy that the pandemic is subsiding. Yesterday Russ went to DC for a two day business trip. I taught two classes in Raleigh yesterday and two in Greensboro today. Shay did not like any of that.

My Raleigh days are shorter because I taught back to back classes with no break and the drive there and back is half as long as it is to Greensboro. Still Shay was vibrating with excitement by the time I got home. Since my Greensboro days mean I will be away from home for ten hours I got a friend for Shay today.

Elizabeth recently lost her beloved dog Norman. So she volunteered to have some Shay time if I needed it. I took her right up on it. We decided she would stop by and play with Shay and give her some dinner in the late afternoon. In the middle of my class this afternoon I got a photo text showing me how happy Shay was to have Elizabeth here. I wish Shay had taken a photo of how happy Elizabeth was to be spending time with Shay.

About an hour later I had a break in between classes and texted a thank you back to Elizabeth. She was still with Shay. What a big treat to have a human loving on her for over an hour. I told Elizabeth she deserved to have dinner from my fridge for all this.

I got home at ten tonight and Shay was happy to see me, but had that little smirk on her face, like she had snuck a friend into the house while Mom and Dad were away. I’m going to let Shay think I didn’t know about it. I think she has a little crush on Elizabeth.

This Cake Can Be Yours

Our church youth group is having a cake auction on Sunday. Various fabulous bakers in the congregation are donating different cakes. I am the auctioneer for this event and am hoping to raise a bunch of money for the youth group trips, which seem likely to happen this summer.

We have had this event in the past, but when we did many more people were showing up for the lunch that went along with the cake auction. This year, no lunch, just auction right after church. There are still plenty of people who watch church online and have not come back to the sanctuary. It is much safer now and I hope people will come.

I am donating my best cake. A deep chocolate torte with coffee buttercream. The name does not do the ganache filled cake Justice. It is a recipe from the best of gourmet 1990. I have made it since it was first published in the now long gone magazine. Every time I have made it I have had requests from the eaters to buy another. The cake can serve more than a dozen, so If I made one I had requests for 12 more. Then 144 more and so on. I never fulfilled all those requests.

When the oldest book club in Durham, the Tourist Club, turned 150, twenty years ago they requested I make this cake for their celebration. It was quite an honor. It still hear from some of the living members about how much they loved that cake.

I will be making this cake to auction off at church on Sunday. There is an opportunity for pre bids from people who will not be in attendance. If you would like to bid on the cake, just send me a message with your top bid. Your top bid may not be the final bid, because someone would have to be bidding against you. The opening bid will be $30 and it will go up in increments of ten dollars until it reaches $100 then the increments will go to $25.

If I get enough people bidding I will offer a second cake to be made on an agreeable date. So you have the chance to get a cake Sunday and/or a second cake later, but only if the bidding is high enough to warrant a second cake.

If you feel really generous, and don’t want to fool with bidding, or taking your chances on winning I would be happy to make a cake for you for a $500 donation to the youth group. It’s the sweetest donation you will ever make.

Local delivery of the cake, sorry It really doesn’t mail well.

Zillow No More

One of my favorite activities to do with Carter is look at real estate on Zillow. For the last few years, whether we were in the same room or 800 miles apart, we would look at properties together. Mostly it was apartments in Boston as the hope was she would end up staying and working there and get to move from her student apartment. For the record her student apartment was wonderful, but it is a studio and she was surrounded by nothing but students. Of course all of Boston is student filled, but the dream was to move to a less student dense neighborhood.

During the height of the pandemic rental prices dropped to ridiculous low prices as so many people left the city. It would kill us to look at these beautiful units in great neighborhoods at rock bottom prices and know it was too early for Carter to begin looking. But the study of every street and every neighborhood went on.

After Carter got her full time job she knew what her target commute was. She thought she may need to move to Brookline and live in Coolidge Corner. It is a lovely place to live with lots of options. Still some students since BC is close, but not totally students. She went one day after work to look at a unit and got an idea of the commute. Not bad, but also not right in Boston.

She loved the south end, expensive, but lovely. Back bay, narrow as it is bookended by Storrow and the bustling Newbury st. Her dream neighborhood was Beacon Hill. Very residential, but still with grocery and drug stores. Quiet and very few students. It seemed out of reach.

I zillowed every morning and evening looking for new listing to send her. She got a Realtor, who was a friend, she looked online everyday too. Last week her realtor found her a unit in Beacon hill that seemed too good to be true. Three rooms, plus an kitten and bathroom. The bath and kitchen had a lot to be desired, but three good sized other rooms was like a dream. Carter put in an application, but hers was the second one and the unit went to a double income couple. She was despondent.

Her income might not be enough for that neighborhood. She was young, which might be held against her. But she has excellent credit, and good savings from working at Bain Capital and a good rental history from her current spot. I told her not to worry.

She was coming to the realization that it was probably going to be Brookline. Then last Thursday, during my early morning Zillow looking I found a unit in a building on the most desirable street in Beacon Hill. The listing had been up less than an hour. Carter called to ask to see it. They said at 1:00 on Friday. She was so excited, but by ten in the morning Friday she got another call the unit was rented. Was this going to be the way it went? Are people renting units sight unseen? Not the way Carter wanted to go. You can’t tell enough about a building let alone the unit without seeing it. Carter shot the listing agent a nice email telling him that if he had anything else in the neighborhood to call her.

Back on Zillow for me. Then, by some miracle, the agent called Carter back. The first application had been rejected. Could she come see it at 2:30? Thankfully Carter’s job is very flexible she went to see it. She loved it. She filled out an application at four on Friday. The owners had to do back ground/credit checks on her. The agent said it was looking good, but it took until 9:00 am this morning to get the actual word she got the apartment. So much joy from Carter.

She will not move until the summer, but the good news is she does not have to move on September 1, when all of Boston moves. The peace of mind knowing she will be in Beacon Hill is great for us parents. Knowing she has an actual bedroom and a new beautiful kitchen with a dishwasher makes us all happy.

I jokingly told her I don’t know what I am going to do with all my time now that I am not Zillowing multiple times a day. But doing that really paid off because getting to a place first or second was key. Hopefully she will stay there a few years. The next Zillow search will hopefully be to buy, not rent.

Olden Times Again

Thursday or Friday Russ sent me an article about Shane Ingram, past chef/owner of Four Square, who is now the chef at the Durham Hotel. No commentary from Russ, just information that Shane was there. That information must have been ruminating with Russ since he sent me the article.

We are big fans of Shane’s. For years Four Square was one of our favorite restaurants. I can remember sitting at a table on the side porch when I came up with the idea to make Carter a Halloween costume of a vegetable garden. She was three. It was one of my best costumes.

Around 5:45 tonight Russ came in the room where I was needlepointing and said, “They have a 7:15 reservation at the Durham hotel for dinner. Do you want to go?”

Since I had been cleaning my office most of the day I told him I could, but needed to shower first, but so did he. So off we went. Downtown was very quiet tonight. I think the Duke Basketball fans, that swarmed the city, departed this morning, perhaps a little despondent.

We had a lovely table at the Durham, and just after we ordered drinks our friends Molly and Vickie stopped at our table on their way home. We invited them to sit with us and we caught up. We always say we need to have them over and then we forget. I am going to invite them this week!

After they left, we enjoyed a yummy dinner. It was nice to have Shane back. He apparently has been cooking there for a while, but just went public as the official Chef. It was a much better night out than we had a couple weeks ago. Perhaps we are beginning to see some of our old life come back, only this time I didn’t need to think up a Halloween costume.

This Will Always Be K’s Town

When a Russ decided to get his MBA at Carolina instead of Duke he was following in a long line of a Carolina Grads in my family. Both my parents graduated from UNC as did all their siblings. Despite our Chapel Hill ties, we could not find a house to buy there so we bought in Durham, which was considered enemy territory.

From the first day we arrived in Durham, 28 years ago we loved it. We also accepted the fact that this town was K’s town. It is hard not to admire Coach K. Not just in Basketball, but in his generosity to Durham. The Emily K center, which he started to support Durham kids, is a world class organization, which has changed lives of children who never may go to Cameron Indoor and watch a basketball game, let alone play in one.

Tonight’s final regular season game for Coach K and his last game coaching at Cameron is historical. It seems unlikely that there will ever be another more winning coach or one who will coach over four decades. Coach K’s legacy is firmly enshrined in Durham. This is his town and we are better because of him.

It is not just Duke that owes him, but our whole city. I am eager to see how he channels all that positive energy from basketball to new endeavors. Thanks Coach. I am happy to live in K’s town.

It’s a Habit

My mother is here for her monthly visit to the Duke eye hospital. She has to get shots in her eyes to save her sight from Macular Degeneration. Thank goodness there are medical professionals who can give shots into people’s eye balls. I certainly couldn’t watch it, let alone do it.

They dilate my mother’s eyes to such a degree that she still needs to wear sun glasses in the dark candlelit dining room eight hours after having it done. It takes a whole 24 hours for her pupils to get even close to normal. Since she can’t go home, she spends the night with us every month.

For my entire life my mother has had a sleep machine. It is a contraption that makes white noise to drown out any other sound that might possibly wake her. My father was a notorious snorer who could wake neighbors. It was understandable why she needed the sleep machine when I was little. Eventually my mother got tired of migrating to other bedrooms in the middle of the night, carrying her sleep machine so she got a second one. Then she eventually just got her own room.

When my father built his big house at the farm she had a room across from my father’s. That was not far enough to not be disturbed by the snoring, even with the sleep machine on full blast. So she moved to the furthest wing, sleep machine in tow. Then her hearing left her. When even the loudest volume on the TV was not enough she got hearing aids, which she hates. When she takes them out at night she couldn’t hear a siren blaring right beside her.

Tonight while we were eating dinner I asked her if she still uses her sleep machine. “Yes, it’s a habit,” she told me. I asked her if she could hear it with her hearing aids out.

“No.”

“Why don’t you try and sleep without it, that way then you travel you won’t need to worry about bringing it.” She still wants to keep her sleep machine. You might have thought I had asked her to give up wine.

No Spring Break for Oligarchs

As Crazy Putin keeps at killing Innocent Ukrainians, the democracies of the world are doing their best to sanction Russia. It seems like it is hard to do anything to Crazy Putin that will make him change his mind, but let’s keep going after all the Oligarchs who act as Putin’s private bankers.

I loved the news that one Oligarch’s super yacht was seized by the German Government, as it was in Hamburg being refitted. At 521 feet it seems like it could house a lot of Ukrainian refugees. Apparently a bunch of Oligarch yachts are on their way to the Maldives because they do not have extradition with US. I think it is poor marketing for the Maldives to be known as the place giving Russians refuge.

Then there are the private planes, big ass ones like Boeing 737’s that the Oligarchs own that have been seized. They could be used to fly refugees out of Poland to other countries will to take them in. We could handle a bunch of refugees in this country. Lord knows we need workers.

On the ABC news tonight I saw the story of a couple from Denmark who drove two cars to Poland and had a sign offering 8 Ukrainians refuge in their house in Denmark for free. They just needed to get in their cars and ride back with them.

Oligarchs own luxury apartments in all the major world cities. Ukrainian refugees should be housed in the toniest of neighborhoods, like Mayfair and the Upper East side. Let’s keep the pressure on this Oligarchs. It’s as close to Putin as we can get. Oligarchs should have no place to hide, no Spring break for them.

Another Day, Another Country Club Basement

After spending the last eight months in the ladies lounge at a fabulous country Club in one city, I am off to a new city and another ladies lounge. I am thankful that my friends who invite me to come teach find places for me to hold classes. It certainly makes it easier for me not to have to find my own locations. There just seems to be a commonality to many of the places I end up teaching. They almost all tend to be in the bowels of a club and therefore have no windows.

Maybe the lack of windows is a good thing for me, then I don’t know what time it is and get tired when the sun goes down. Today My location is an hour from home. With classes from 2-5 and 6-9 I will be gone ten hours. If I were to see that it is dark outside I might want to put my night gown on in the middle of class. It is the ladies lounge after all.

Thankfully this club has generously given me dinner during my break. Not that eating dinner at 5:30 is good for me, but it most certainly is good for my students. If I had to go ten hours without eating something I would turn into the worlds meanest teacher.

So for the rest of the month I will be in Greensboro on Wednesdays. New city, new friends. Don’t worry Raliegh, I’m still with you the other days of the week.

Awaiting Shay’s Groomer Acceptance

Getting Shay into a groomer is somewhat like Carter getting into college. Shay has had a bad spat of groomers through the pandemic. After losing two groomers in a row she went without a really good hairdo for eighteen months. Sometimes Carter or I would give her a hair cut. She went to a store front chain groomer who barley did the minimum, leaving her feet untrimmed making her slide down the stairs scaring the bejesus out of her.

Finally our vet’s groomer did her. She came back practically hairless, which made her cold in the winter weather. My friend Christy gave me a recommendation for her groomer and I texted to see if she would take Shay. Shay fulfilled the small, well behaved requirement. Next I need to submit her health records and a photo as if she were trying out for a beauty pageant. I am waiting for the interview portion. For now I am prepping Shay with Practice questions. “If you could have dinner with any three people, alive or dead who would they be?” I told her, “Three butchers” was probably not a pageant winning answer.

She did much better on the “how would you solve world peace question.” Saying that everyone on earth needed a dog was an inspired answer. Who can trust anyone who does not have a dog, especially a President without one.

I think Shay has good ACT scores (Attractive Canine thing) but did not fare as well on SAT’s (Sitting At aTtention). In the end she does not need a Vidal Sassoon level groomer. Just a reliable kind human who doesn’t pull her hair or scold her about matts.

We are keeping our fingers crossed awaiting her acceptance email. We don’t need the congratulatory T-shirt, or accepted dog visiting days. Supposedly there is a groomer for every dog, we just don’t want to go the community college route and are looking for a good liberal arts groomer.

Go Right to the Top

I am a discerning consumer. I like to get things my way and when I don’t, I usually educate the people in charge why it would be better if they satisfied me as a customer. I don’t raise my voice, or speak down to anyone. It’s all about making friends.

Today Lynn, Elizabeth and I went to the WaDu for lunch. We having been going there for lunch for at least 25 years. It is dependable and predictable and almost always good. There were very few patrons today so we had extra good attention from our excellent waiter, Daniel. After he discussed the special with us, and a side bar about the best soup he ever ate, that happened to be a watermelon gazpacho toped with lobster at the Saint James (I made a mental note to make that this summer in Maine), we asked for biscuits.

The biscuits have been the star of the bread basket at the WaDu for as long as any of us could remember. Daniel gave us the bad news that they are no longer making the biscuits and have a bar bread he said was better. I hate to say that he was wrong about it being better, but he was. He told us about the loss of the pastry chef back at the beginning of Covid so we commiserated with him about that, but he said a new one was coming and pointed out the Food and Beverage manager who was walking towards us.

Never one to be shy I flagged him down. A tall bald man who was happy to spend some time talking with us. We registered our sadness about the loss of the biscuits. He kindly took note. As we were making progress with him talking about the return of Sunday Brunch and afternoon tea later this month I decided to bring up a long held complaint of mine.

“While we have you, I have one more issue, the graduation week menu.” See the WaDu greatly reduces the offerings the week of Duke’s graduation due to the crowds. “My birthday happens to fall during that week and when my friends and I come to celebrate it I can’t get the chopped salad, which is all I ever want for my birthday.”

Now I am used to being mansplained too, but this wonderful gentleman did not do that. Instead he asked me what the exact date of my birthday was. He promised me that he personally would give me a chopped salad on my birthday and gave me his card. Now, there was a very good chance that I was already planning on being there on my birthday. He did not need to sell the table to me. And being graduation week they will be busy anyway. So this kind offer to provide me with my favorite lunch on a day that historically it has been denied to me is a joyous sound.

It really pays to speak to the right person in a kind way. It is even better to have that person go above and beyond to satisfy a customer. So friends who usually come to lunch with me that day, block lunch out that day. We will be at the WaDu, not that it is a new plan.

I Support Ukraine

For most of my young life Russia was a common enemy for many Americans. I was taught that democracies were a better system than communism and that Russia and the other communist countries in the world did not want more democratic countries. Although I was still an infant during the Cuban missed crisis, I knew the story my mother told me of her saying goodbye to my father thinking it could be the last time she spoke with him. Thankfully that was not the case.

When the Soviet Union broke up and the Berlin Wall fell things began to change. Without the giant Soviet block looming as a threat to America we lost our common enemy. I feel like that was the beginning of when Americans began to turn on each other. Yes, we have always had Republicans and Democrats, who did not agree about certain policies, but one thing we used to agree on was the need to protect America and the constitution.

When Putin first invaded Ukrainian I naively thought this is a no brainer that it is something that would bring all Americans together. How could we not feel universal condemnation for a dictator who, unprovoked, invades his peaceful neighbor.

I was shocked, not shocked when Trump praised Putin, as if this is a game played by kids in the sandlot. Then this weekend I read news about a far far right political conference where the attendees were chanting, “Putin, Putin.” The idea that the enemy of my enemy is my friend has over taken any logic.

Putin is no friend to America and our way of life, no matter what way of life you live here. Putin succeeding does not change the things these far right people hate about America.

I have no idea how we ever get back to working for the common good of America, let alone the world. I hope that these American Putin supporters are a tiny faction.

As for Ukraine, I pray they can withstand this horrific invasion and push Putin out. I hope that Russia pays a heavy price for allowing Putin to become this kind of dictator. We don’t need other countries to feel like this is a successful way to treat their neighbors. I support Ukraine and hope we can come together for them.

Moving On

All three Langes had things happen that show us moving up or on. The most exciting was that Carter received her diploma in the mail at her apartment in Boston. She technically graduated in December, but will not walk until the May ceremonies. Apparently all students are mailed their diplomas since it would be virtually impossible to give students the right one at graduation.

The second thing that happened is that Shay made her triumphant return to work as the CMG puppy. Russ and I went into his new office space today to unpack his office. Shay found her favorite toy rat and flying monkey and had to hold back from removing them from the shelves they were placed on. Certainly they are going to have to be relocated as Shay can’t be counted on to have any will power near then, especially the flying monkey, whose hands Shay removed in an earlier encounter.

The completion of the build out of the new office might mean Russ goes back to work there, but I know he will still spend plenty of time in his little rabbit office at home. The real question will be, “Where will Shay be working?”

The third thing that happened today is I returned to Charity Auctioneering after a two year pandemic auction free time. The last auction I worked was this same one, the Big Wesley Barbecue and Auction. Two years ago, just as Covid was starting to come into focus in the US I worked this auction. Now, two years later they were back. The format was slightly different and people have forgotten some of their auction bidding skills, but they are such a lovely group of people I love helping them.

Perhaps a corner has been turned here.

Hooray for Shelayne!

My best looking, youngest grandmother-of-six, friend, Shelayne finally turned sixty, despite looking more like 30. As a true and dear friend to so many it was only appropriate that a wonderful party was thrown in her honor. Thankfully Covid has calmed down enough that we were able to gather to celebrate her in style.

As I wrote in a note to Shelayne, the best thing we got out of serving on the Durham Academy board together was each other. I had never met Shelayne before that. Her five children were way older than my one so we did not cross paths at school. She lives in Chapel Hill and plays tennis so no over lap there. But once we did meet we found lots of common interests and friends.

I am so thankful that Shelayne always took an interest in my work at the Food Bank and eventually was asked to join the board after serving on a Food Bank Committee. As a former board member, I feel better about the place knowing that she is there. Now she has started a new private high school in Durham, Christo Rey and is doing good for a whole new group of people.

Thanks to the wonderful hostesses who threw a great party. It was great to see so many friends I have not seen in so long. it was a lovely night to be together.

Hooray for Shelayne and all the good she does for the people she loves and people who will never even know who she is. She is truly one of the most beautiful people that I know, on the inside and out.

“If I just Live Long Enough”

I dream big and I don’t give up. In my lifetime I have had the pleasure to work on many non-profit projects and boards. In doing those things I have often had big dreams, which some people thought were just that. My response when met with skepticism is not to give up, but I say, “I am certain I will see these things happen, If I just live long enough.” Today was the perfect example of that.

I had the pleasure to go to the ground breaking of the Food Bank’s new Wilmington Branch as a member of the Capital Campaign’s Executive Team. This was a dream I first dreamt about 12 years ago, the first time I went to visit the Food Bank branch in Wilmington. The building, which was old when it became a Food Bank, in the 1980’s, was probably barley adequate then. When I saw it with it’s hand painted sign, and no clear front entrance I said, “We need to do better.”

In April of 2016, as part of my role as board chair I visited the Branch again and promised the branch Director Beth Gaglione, that one day she would have the space she needed. The coolers in the old building were more like those ice dispensers in parking lots in the 1960’s. There is no space for volunteers to sort food, except between pallets of other food. Don’t get me started about the parking lot and where trucks had to load and unload food.

So today’s event, of breaking ground to build a new 45,000 Square foot, purpose built building, with a teaching kitchen as well as plenty of space for volunteers and real walk in coolers and freezers, and out door space for vegetable gardens ( also my long term dream for all the branches) has been a long time coming.

The Food Bank, Kristin McPeters the staff person and especially the Wilmington Committee did an outstanding job raising a record amount of money, during a pandemic. This will be the largest building project outside of the triangle the Food Bank has undertaken and is so much more than my original dream. Thanks to all the dedicated and compassionate people, especially Peter Werbicki, the President. Peter is retiring this year after 25 years at the Food Bank. I have worked with him for 22 and enjoyed every minute. Making this dream a reality is the last jewel in his huge crown of many accomplishments, but he would never wear a crown, despite being British.

I can’t wait for the ribbon cutting on the new facility once it is built and getting a new updated photo with Beth the branch director in front of a real front door with a professional sign above it.

Russ’ New Office

My day-off turned into a half day-off. Russ’ office at American Tobacco got moved thanks to GSK wanting a big ass amount of space. Turns out Russ’ office was right in the middle of the space they wanted so the landlords asked Russ if he could move to a new space. We spent a lot of time looking at options and finally agreed on one which they then had to up-fit. Six months later the up-fit is finally done. It is a nice space in the FHI building and Russ overlooks the grassy park area outside DPAC.

Russ is yet to go to the new office as it is not unpacked and ready to go, but I was needed today to help do art placement and furniture. It is amazing how much stuff a business accumulates over the years. Turns out they have way too many file cabinets, which are totally unnecessary now that everything is virtual.

It is going to take a little while for the office manager to get everything done, but it is not all up to her. Russ and I need to go in and unpack his office this weekend. I moved some very heavy boxes around In there today. Who knows what kind of stuff he has squirreled away.

The Smell of Spring

I don’t always know what the date is, but given that today is the very famous 2/22/22 I was alerted to the actual date by the news. February usually means winter. Sometimes March still means winter too. As I got out of my car tonight at 9:30 after teaching, I took a deep breath and got a chest full of spring.

I am not sure what happened today. Yes, it was a warm day, but something must have bloomed. I didn’t recognize it was an actual scent. The night air was heavy with humidity, a little like that feeling after an early evening rain in the summer. Nothing in my yard was any greener, although the daffodils are up. The Lady banks rose is still in deep slumber, the grass is still dormant.

Despite no visual evidence, the aroma of the changing seasons was evident. Now the change is not always a straight line. We could still back right up into the sterile smell of winter, but for a moment as I lingered in the gravel driveway I was a little hopeful. A new beginning is near. Good thing I mapped out my crop rotation for the garden yesterday. Perhaps my body knew the change was coming before my nose caught on.

Despite the hint, I won’t be planting yet, but I can dream. There is nothing better than sleeping amongst sweet smelling things and spring is my favorite thing.

Where Is My Pandemic Productiveness?

In a few weeks we will officially have our pandemic 2 year anniversary. Granted we are through with the quarantined period, but we are not back to normal yet. As I look back on my photos in those early 2020 days I recognize how productive I was in the early days. Everyday I worked on quilts and needlepoints. I cleaned out things that had been wanting for years. Dust rarely settled for more than 36 hours. I ran two different vacuums at the same time, thanks to one being a robot. I studied, planed and built my enclosed vegetable garden, including the sixty foot retaining wall by hand.

Where has that person gone? Since I have been teaching Mah Jongg at my current pace I find that I am failing at other duties. Russ has taken to doing laundry just so he has some clean underpants. My office still has Christmas wrapping in a huge pile along with shopping bags full of gifts yet to be given.

It’s not that I am teaching eight hours a day. Today I taught just one class, but yet got nothing done, except paying some bills. I miss my old Pandemic self. I miss making a big list of projects and diligently checking them off. I don’t even have a list right now. I’m too lazy to make one.

The only good thing about my post pandemic slump is that I rarely go to the grocery store so Russ and I are eating through the freezer and the pantry. It’s amazing how good that chicken filo pie is months later. In my laziness I have hardly cooked a soup all winter, normally a staple in our house.

Now I’m not looking to go back into lock down, but it’s not like I have the excuse that my social calendar is keeping me so busy. I just want to be productive enough that I don’t feel guilty if I play a game of Catan on my iPad.

We Should Have Stayed Home

Russ and I got our final shingles shots yesterday. Our wonderful pharmacist, Darius, warned us that we might not feel well afterwards. Yesterday we were fine, with the exception of a sore arm for me. This morning was not the same story. Both Russ and I had flu like symptoms so we laid low today.

We had a reservation for dinner tonight. We realized we had not been out to dinner since September. All day Russ kept asking me if we should cancel. “Let’s see how we feel.” So we went. We probably should have stayed home and not because we didn’t feel well.

We had a very nice, but incompetent waitress. She took forever to come and take our order, despite having time to just meander around the back of the bar. She took our order and when she brought Russ his drink, it was in a can, that was opened and Russ immediately spilled it. Not her fault, but we alerted her that we needed the table cleaned up and a good ten minutes later she dropped some napkins off for us to clean it up.

When our food came, she left us the plates, but no silverware. I asked for some and again she did the wandering around routine. It was at least three minutes (in a very tiny place) and we watched her the whole time, not getting us silver. I finally flagged down the other server who gave us forks in ten seconds.

After we finished she dropped off the bill. The restaurant had one of those QR codes so we could pay online ourselves , which we did. We were still sitting there talking ten minutes later and she came over and said, “Did I forget to pickup your check?” At that point it didn’t matter to us since we had done it ourselves, but it was just another example of her attention to detail.

The food was not great, the service was terrible and the ambiance was not existent. I know we don’t feel great, but this made me feel worse. No wonder we only eat at home.

Landscape Designers?

I have to apologize for the losses in the stock market in 2022. It is all my fault. I got very comfortable about the gains of the last year so I gave Russ a Christmas present of doing a major renovation to our house. The money was going to come from our stocks. That was a sure fire way to ensure that all the money I was willing to spend would disappear.

My original gift was a room. Then it became a room and a screened in porch. Then it changed to a new garage with a room above it and the conversion of our current garage into a room. Then the new garage turned into a three car garage with a whole apartment above it. Now that is a house. I called contractors and pulled out plans that we had. I scoured Pintrest. I got bids. It was too much. We didn’t need any of that.

We scaled back our thinking. Now it involves cleaning out our current garage. That is free. Now want to do some landscaping with the addition of an outdoor kitchen, so some hard scraping. So I am starting at the beginning again. Looking for contractors, landscape designers, more Pintrest for inspiration. This might end up being 2023’s Christmas gift.

Right now I am interested in any recommendations for local landscaper designers because I want to start there. Who have you used? Who should we stay away from? Please message me before the stock market goes down even further and I will be left with just cleaning out the garage.

My Acknowledgments are Way Behind

In the last few weeks there have been a lot of lost loved ones of friends of our. One family unexpectedly lost their beloved son. Another good friend lost her darling husband whom we adored. Another friend lost her father, who we knew and loved and we missed the visitation. As well as an additional friend who lost her father. A close friend unexpectedly lost her mother. Then our sweet friends lost their Labrador Retriever who was a big member of their family and the community with a loyal Instagram following.

It feels like these losses are coming closer together than usual. I am behind on appropriately expressing my condolences and checking in on friends. I am hoping that everyone else can keep your loved ones safe and sound. I need to catch up on chicken making and letter writing and if another friend has a loss I may never catch up.

On a positive note, our friends whose child was diagnosed with cancer this summer has officially beat it’s butt and is cancer free now. So there is a need for a serious celebration and recognition of seven really hard months being behind them. Can I get a parade started?

For now, I feel like I am an inadequate friend. Please know if you are having one of life’s major events I am acknowledging it in my mind and will certainly let you know how much I love you and are thinking about you very soon.

Living For the Weekend

For the last few years I have been like Lady Grantham, “Weekend, what’s a weekend?” Mondays and Saturdays were the same. With no child at home going to school and a very self sufficient husband, everyday was all about fun for me. Well, maybe during the pandemic it wasn’t all about fun, but those days were really all alike.

Now that I am teaching seven or eight 3 hour classes a week I am exhausted by the time Friday rolls around. It’s like being twenty-eight years old when I used to come home from a long work week on Fridays and go to bed at nine o’clock.

I am not complaining. I love all my students. In fact it is so sad when one class ends and I say good bye to them. Tonight’s class was a wild one. This was their final and when they walked me to my car, carrying all my equipment, they gave me hugs and told me they would see me again soon.

Teaching is the most rewarding thing I do. I love figuring out all the different ways people learn and try to tell students the same information in many different ways until I see that spark of understanding. But it is exhausting by the end of the week. Thankfully I only teach one class on Fridays. Come the evening I will be ready for bed early, but I probably won’t beat Russ there because no matter how hard I work he will always work three times more than I do and not complain. Just living for the weekend.

NO Fly List, Yes Please

Recently the president of Delta asked to government to help create a National “No Fly List,” for unruly passengers and I am all for it. Yes, Delta can create its own list of passengers who they will no longer allow to fly on their planes, but there is nothing stopping that bad acting person from turning around and flying on a different airline.

I read that there were 6,500 people in the last year who were unruly and 4,200 of them were fighting about having to put the mask on. If mask mandates get lifted for people flying that would still mean that there could be 2,300 unruly people who need to be banned. Flight attendants have taken the brunt of abuse and need to not have to be subjected to proven problem flyers.

From my life of flying I can say that as time goes on passengers get less and less courteous and more and more rude. I am not sure that the tide is ever going to turn on this situation. The best we can do is not allow people to be double or triple offenders. Once you have punched a flight attendant or ignored requests to take your seat and buckle up, but instead are heading to the cockpit, your time on planes has come to an end.

Airlines have to keep all the crew and passengers’ lives safe and have a fairly good track record doing it. The rules about flying are fairly clear. You don’t get to decide you don’t want to wear a seat belt because if the plane hit turbulence you could fly up in the air and come down on top of someone else. I have been a plane that dropped 10,000 feet shortly after takeoff and it’s not pretty.

Someone made the argument that many of the unruly flyers are drunk. If you are so afraid of flying that you have to drink five scotches in the airport before you get on the plane, then you need to drive. I have been on too many flights coming home from some island and the passengers were making the most of their all-inclusive resort before getting to the airport. There is nothing worse than flying with a bunch of drunks who are mad they have to go home. Maybe we need a rule that you need to not be drunk to even get on the plane. Then we probably don’t need the NO Fly List.

I wouldn’t mind going back to the days when people dressed up to get on the plane and acted like ladies and gentlemen. I really don’t love boarding behind the girl who is making sure the whole plane gets a good look at her new tramp stamp, with her white girl braids and sun burned scalp screaming at her boyfriend. Then they fight with each other as if she caught him with her best friend in their trailer when she got home from work. Please try and act like you have all your important teeth when you fly, even if you don’t.

As for people flying who should be in an institution, if only Ronald Reagan hadn’t closed them all, if you are on all the right meds flying can be safe for you. Please don’t chose the day you are flying to not take your meds. If you forgo them and then do something bad on the plane, it is not excuse that you forgot to take them.

Maybe we need signs on the way to the airport, “Took your meds?” “If you are too drunk to drive you are too drunk to Fly, even if you are just a passenger.”

The American public who has proven that they don’t care enough about your fellow citizens to wear a mask then they probably don’t care about the safety of fellow flyers. So it’s time to regulate the selfish off the planes.

A Little Cold

Outside of having Covid over Christmas the last time I was sick was almost exactly two years ago when I went to visit Carter in Boston. She had a stomach virus before I got there and I must have picked it up and it was horrible and violent. Since then, nary a sniffle. That is until now.

I have a little cold. It’s not terrible. I’m not stopped up, just sneezing and runny nose. No sore throat, no sinus, but still a cold. Years of staying home alone and wearing masks when out have kept me from getting a cold. I guess the party’s over. I have been seeing mor people now that I have antibodies from having Covid and so I am paying the price. It is worth it. I would rather have a cold one or twice a year than only stay home alone for the rest of my life.

Into every life a little pain must come. A cold is hardly a pain. It is just the price for living. And I will tell you, I will take a cold over a violent stomach virus any day.

Acts of Love

When you have been married to Russ Lange for 30 years this May, you don’t need Valentine’s Day to prove anything. To us Valentine’s Day is the amateur hour. Only people who are newly dating want to go out to an over-crowded, over-priced, over-worked restaurant on the same night as everyone else. Roses that have been in a holding refer-truck for weeks have nothing on a peony planted in the garden, coming up year after year. And there are no such thing as special meals made at home, as all our meals are special.

Today, on my way out to door to pick up Russ’ shirts from the laundry he looked at me and said, don’t stop and get me a card, so I didn’t. He knows I show my love to him in acts of service and he does the same, except that he also gets cards.

I got home with the cleaning and found my card on the top step. I opened it to discover conversation hearts with the sayings that mean the most to me, “I did the dishes,” which he does every night, no matter how much work he has or how little I have.

We are no less romantic or love each other any less because we are not participating in the Valentine’s ritual. We love each other that much everyday, but I must admit he is better at it than I am, since he brings me tea in bed every morning.

We hope that all people can find love of all different kinds. It can be with your pet, or your friend or your lover, but don’t wait for a special day to show them you love them. I would take someone who buys the right toilet paper all the time over someone who buys flowers once a year.

Go Bengals

I never cared much about football. Given how crazy both my parents are for the game it is amazing that I don’t care. Perhaps it has to do with going to a college where Football was not a big thing. I think my freshman year Dickinson did VERY poorly in scoring, despite a team full of really nice guys who went on to be doctors and judges and things so much more important then football players.

So now that the super bowl is upon us, literally on right now, I am cheering for the Bengals because the only professional player ever knew played for them. Growing up in Wilton, CT the Perry family of four boys were close family friends. Scott, the eldest was the best athlete. He played football at the Kent school, where all the boys went. Prep football is not the normal breeding ground for pros. Scott went on to Williams and was a walk on there. He was a great all around athlete who I think may still hold the NESCAC record for the long jump. He was drafted by the Bengals and played pro football for five or six years. I have a feeling he was just too smart to keep playing football.

I can remember watching him play on TV with his next brother down, Mike, who went to Dickinson with me. The third brother, Brian was the brother I knew the best, as we were friends in the same class in school and were all in the same group who hung together on vacations since we went to boarding school.

I am blanking on the youngest brother’s name, who was in the same class as my sister Janet. I remember him as being the sweetest one, but that was a big contest because all the Perry boys were all very nice. They had the nicest parents around. I remember their mother Pat as always having the most calming voice, which I found astounding for a mother of four boys.

So even though Scott Perry hasn’t played for the Bengals in five decades that fact that he ever did gives me reason to cheer for them tonight.

NO, Not Limes!

As if inflation, transport problems and lack of workers are not bad enough, apparently Mexican Cartels have branched out from drugs to limes now. Mexico is where many limes are grown is also home to so many organized crime groups, who realized they could terrorize lime growers and demand graft from them and is much less risky than moving drugs. Consequently, limes are in short supply right now and thus the prices have gone way up.

I have never been in the market for heroin or whatever drugs the Mexicans control, but limes are a staple at our house. I can grown lots of different fruits and vegetables to avoid the cartel, but not limes. I guess I could get an indoor lime tree, but I feel like it is a multi years commitment before I got enough limes to satisfy my needs. They also are going after the avocado growers too, but at least we have California avocados. I can live without avocados, but limes are imperative for my all-day iced tea. Damn those Mexican criminals.

Mah Jongg Therapy

Today at class seven of the week my cute student brought Mah Jongg cups and cocktail napkins for the whole class, including one for me, the teacher. It was very sweet of her to include me. This class is made up of a group of twelve good friends so they are so nice to each other. Usually groups that come pre-formed don’t think of me as part of there pack, as I am the hired help. But sweet Rachael included me.

Last week a blog reader friend, Mary, responded to a Mah Jongg blog that she had been having headaches and memory issues for a very long time since having Covid, pre-vaccine, early in the pandemic. She told me that she finally was seen at a post Covid clinic and they prescribed her playing Mah Jongg to help get her brain function back to normal. Unfortunately she is in Boston so she can’t take lesson with me, but she did find a class there.

All that being said, I was wondering if now I could bill insurance to teach people Mah Jongg? Maybe I could get some medical title, not Doctor, since I don’t want to go back to school for eight years, but perhaps therapist?

I do tell my students that I physiologically analyze them by the way they organize their tiles, but I offer not remedies for issues so it is not therapeutic. I really just do it to understand how they think so I can teach them in a way that they can learn best.

As for my class today, who brought me a present, they are all getting A’s. Who says you can’t sweet talk the teacher.

Two Hair Cuts In One Day

This month is crazy. I am teaching seven classes a week that are three hours a class. It doesn’t leave much time for any other activities. Thankfully I have kept one whole day in the week free. Today I was not teaching until three, doing back to back classes ending at nine. I have to leave home at 1:45 to get there and set up and get home around 9:45.

With the morning free I had booked two haircuts today. One for Shay and one for me. Shay was in much more need than I was as she as switching groomers again! I wish that my hairdresser Suzanne did dogs because then I know it would be good.

My hair cut takes about twenty minutes including the wash and blow out. Shay’s takes all day. Russ thankfully had ten minutes between clients to go pick her up. I got home and was met by the totally buzzed puppy with the world’s skinniest legs. I knew she had mats and was going to have to be clipped like she was in basic training. I just wish that when I came out of a hair cut my legs looked half as thin as Shay’s.

She is as exhausted from her day of beauty as I am from my day of teaching. So it’s right to bed for the two of us. The only difference is I have to be up and out to go back and teach by 7:45 in the morning and she can sleep in tomorrow.

Slur Overkill

I got a call recently from a woman older than I am who was interested in taking one of my classes. She said that where she lives we a “bunch of Nazis” who won’t let her into their group until she has taken a class. I couldn’t immediately find her a space in any of my classes, but told her I would get back to her.

A while after the call I thought about what she said. Calling a group you want to join “a bunch of Nazis” made me wonder why you want to join them in the first place. Still bothered I realized that I no longer call anyone other than actual Hitler contemporaries Nazis or Neo-Nazis, who self identify as scum bags.

I am not known for political correctness, but I do feel like there is hardly any group that warrants the comparison with Nazis. With all the Holocaust deniers I don’t want to water down what being a real Nazi was in history. Just because someone is not letting you join a group does not in anyway compare them to Nazis.

I know in my past I have called someone I just disliked a Nazi and now I regret the imprecise slur. I am certain whomever I identified that way was not out to cleanse the earth of anyone they did not deem worthy so the hyperbole was so overkill that using it somehow cheapens what real Nazis did.

I am not saying anything bad about the stranger who called me and used the term. It was just the first time it hit me that it felt insensitive to what real Nazis have done and neo-Nazis are tying to do now. As the world gets mor polarized I am becoming much more concerned about fascism so I am going to try and not call anyone who is actually not one a Nazi.

It’s a Dog House

My dear friend Lane, who is also the worlds best decorator, came over today and brought me about fifty fabrics to look at for recovering my living room furniture and new window treatments in the dining room. Shay was most excited to see Lane as she is one of the all time great dog lovers.

After some good snuggles Shay set herself up on the sofa as Lane and I played with fabric memos. As much as I would love to have some white furniture to pop in my green living room, Lane, with four dogs and two white sofas knew better. It’s not just dogs that are bad for white sofas, but also husbands.

We decided on some beautiful choices because they were in stock and Lane found ways to make things work, even if the required yardage was not available. Oh, the joys of a real professional decorator and not just someone who thinks they have good taste and resale license. Lane understands about repeats in fabric patterns and welting and all the technical parts of upholstery. Between the two of us working together for 25 years, Lane’s extensive knowledge and my decisive nature, fabric knowledge and color training we can redo a room in record time. Well, we can pick everything out fast, getting craftsman to do the work is another story, but Lane has that covered too.

After Lane left, I came back to the living room and found Shay, atop a needlepoint pillow, leaning against another pillow. Thank god Lane knows this is a dog house and brought fabrics that are dog friendly. It’s all well and good to redo the furniture, but we all are going to sit on it and use it so it’s got to hold up for the next 25 years like the last ones did.

Sock Advice

In a fight against consumerism and what that does to the planet, in 2019 I took a vow not to buy anything new for myself unless it was a consumable. So no new clothes, or shoes, but yes to toothpaste and mascara. It was a breeze. I didn’t miss buying anything. I had plenty of everything I could ever need. Not buying “stuff” made me very happy.

2020 began and I was I free to buy what I wanted, but other than some underwear, I didn’t buy anything. Then COVID lockdown hit and I really didn’t need ANYTHING. I had plenty of workout clothes not to work out in, but to wear doing puzzles, needlepointing and making quilts.

Of course the pandemic has lasted way longer than any us ever thought and I have not gone in a clothing store in three years now. You might look at me and say, “Yeah, I can tell.” But, for the most part I don’t really care.

Some things I need I can order online, but there is one thing I wear that I have always gone to the store to buy, short black socks. I am very particular about my socks. I like them to be very soft, but at the same time stay up easily. I usually like to buy six or nine of the same kind at the same time so when I wash them they all match each other. Black socks can fade so I don’t like to match an old sock with a new sock.

Now here’s my dilemma… I can’t tell online if socks fit my criteria and as of right now I can’t think of stores that are still in business that sell the kind of socks I like. I don’t want to order a bunch of random pairs. I hate sending packages back, especially if it’s just a pair of sock. So I am soliciting advice on sock brands you like and why.

I am a little late in the season to even care about this. In a month I will probably stop wearing black socks and will move to no or only white tennis socks, which I have a great source for. Certainly I can make it through winter with my current stash, but I am noticing some places where a big toe might be wanting to break through. I really don’t want to darn old socks, I’m not that frugal. I’m just particular.

Marriage Management Points

Russ showed me Kim and Penn Holderness’ latest song about what Mom wants most for Valentine’s Day. If you haven’t ever watched one of their videos they are good for a giggle.

Here is the link to this song.

Russ showed it to me because it puts to music our whole marriage. I don’t want expensive gifts, I’d rather have him do the laundry. In our family gifts or acts of service get you positive marriage management points. There are also negative marriage management points, from forgetting an Anniversary (not as if that has ever happened) to putting a wet glass on a wood table without a coaster, (hasn’t happened in years.)

Here is the thing about marriage management points. Positive things, that get you good points, have a shelf life, the bigger the act the longer the life. Negative points are like uranium, they never expire. So a spouse has to work extra hard to over come negative things, maybe a lifetime.

Thankfully Russ learned early on about the point system and has avoided the negative territory. I have remained above water thanks to cooking. But watching the Holderness song I see the point system is alive and well at their house.

Granola for Russ

Being a child of the sixties Granola was ubiquitous in our house. Never was it a homemade treat, but the cereal brand, 100% Natural was a favorite of my mother. I am certain there were no calorie count labels on the box, because if there was she would have stopped purchasing right away. My mother loved anything with nuts. We used to joke that she could eat a fruit cake clean of the nuts leaving it fully intact looking more like a squared log of Swiss cheese.

This week Russ saw an Alton Brown You Tube where he was making a slightly healthier granola. The healthier part is that it did not include butter, but that is where healthy stopped. Since Russ lives on kale and has given up meat, I thought making this granola was something he deserved, especially after a few days of soft food due to oral surgery.

It is easy to make, but does take some time as you must cook it very low for two hours, stirring every fifteen minutes. I would say this is worth it.

This is Alton’s recipe as I adjusted it

Preheat the oven to 250°

3 c. Rolled oats

1 c. Slivered almonds

1 1/4 c. Pecans roughly chopped

6 T. Brown sugar

6 T. Pumpkin seeds

1 c. Unsweetened coconuts

3 T. Flax seeds

1/2 T. Salt

Mix these all together in bowl.

In a heat proof measuring cup.

2 T. Coconut oil. Put in cup and microwave it just until it melts

Add

2 T. Grapeseed oil

1/3. Cup maple syrup

Pour the liquid into the dry and mix well.

Spread the granola on a half sheet pan and place in oven. Every 15 minutes stir it well and cook for a total of 2 hours. Let cool.

Add

3/4 of a cup of both dried cranberries and dried blueberries.

Will keep in a jar for a month if you don’t eat it all before that.

Pence Grows A Pair

As the Republican National Committee is off at a meeting in Salt Lake City approving a resolution that says January 6 was “legitimate political discourse,” an idea so outrageous is is apt to play well on Fox News, Mike Pence was in Florida making a statement of a different kind. Pence, outside Orlando speaking at the Federalist Society said words I never he thought he had in him, “President Trump is wrong. I had no right to overturn the election.”

While some in the party want to white wash what happened, Pence finally found his voice after four years as the silent sycophant to his boss who told more lies daily than most presidents told in a year. It only took Pence just under 13 months from the day that Trump sent a mob, riled up by his speech, to the Capital to find Mike Pence, with no concern for his safety, as some chanted hang Mike Pence. It is about time that Pence grew a pair and spoke up.

I am no fan of Pence. His policies as Governor of Indiana go against my beliefs, but I do think he sees the difference in honoring the constitution and the danger of burning it down. Pence finally realized that Trump is loyal only to himself. Carrying his water did Pence no good. I don’t think Pence stands a chance of getting the Republican nomination if he runs for President. His years of namby-pamby ways are too much to over come especially with a party who are trying to normalize what happened on January 6, but still good for him for saying anything against his former boss. I never thought he had it in him.

Nice Work If You Can Get It

This was the first day I have had two classes back to back with no break in between. On top of that they started at three in the afternoon and ran until nine at night. Normally I am in my soft clothes at seven, watching Jeopardy, writing my blog and am sound asleep by ten. Having a day where the majority of it happens in the afternoon, evening and NIGHT goes against my natural clock. Thankfully teaching Mah Jongg brings its own energy so I was able to power through.

My first class was an advanced beginner class so I knew all the students. It is so much easier when I know the personalities and the flow of the group. I am amazed that I can create a curriculum for every level of player and still teach them the same things in different ways u til I am certain they understand everything.

My second class arrived and they were all new faces. I had mistakenly thought I was doing two advanced beginners, back to back, when I really was doing a beginner class from 6-9.

Twelve new people, twelve new names, twelve new personalities to figure out. They were a rowdy group and I am certain I was a little harsh when I told that, “I am talking now.” But they also fell in love with the exercises I had them do to learn the card and they quickly were competing with each other to find the right hand before the other tables. My most challenging student blurted put, “Can you be my new best friend?” Addiction is powerful.

The first night of class is the hardest night so next week will be easier and the third class even easier. Eventually I will acclimate to night work and by the time I do it will be spring and Mah Jongg Learning season will give way to people wanting to do outdoor things. I have to make the most of this during the gray and boring months of waining winter. I am not missing anything fun going on at home. It’s nice work so I’ll take it.

The Stupidest Holiday

How the hell did groundhog day ever get so big? I’ve lived in the south and I’ve lived in the north and winter was never over on February 2 any place. It might be a different story in March, but February??? No way, winter is just getting a hold on you. You might have a warm day or even week, but a blizzard can quickly follow those false springs. So the whole premise of even saying if winter is over or you will have six more weeks is just ridiculous.

Now let’s get to the groundhog part. I have never met a groundhog I thought was useful for anything. As a child I remember a groundhog decimating my father’s vegetable garden. He was so mad that he went out and shot it with a shot gun. Killing it upset him so much that he cried and was then mad that the groundhog made him kill him. This is the logic that comes with having a gun at the ready. It was a terrible day at our house.

My first question is do animal’s recognize their shadow’s? That seems like a very advanced brain concept. As far as I can tell from my experience with that groundhog my father shot is they aren’t too bright. That groundhog not only did not recognize his shadow, he didn’t recognize my father standing there with a shot gun. I think their eyesight is poor at best so why does anyone take a ground hog’s word whether he sees his shadow? In actuality it’s those men who hold the poor rodent up who say that the groundhog produced a shadow, but they don’t know what the furry thing saw or didn’t see.

Let’s put us all out of our misery of holding out hope that winter might be over. It isn’t, accept it. Stop torturing rodents by letting men in top hats hold them up over their heads. The only fun that could come out of it is if the groundhog would poop on the guy holding him.

This is not a day that needs any attention. We have real things to concentrate on and they never involve rodents of any kind.

Tough as Nails

For years the dentist has been telling Russ to get his wisdom teeth out. There is nothing anyone does not want to do more than have their wisdom teeth out. So Russ just kept not doing it. Russ was not like me. When I was still in high school the second my dentist said I needed my wisdom teeth out I jumped right on it while I was still on my parents insurance and they paid the co-pay.

After years of avoiding this surgery Russ finally broke an important tooth which required surgery in quick time. While he was going in for that they said they could take out his two remaining wisdom teeth at the same time. So he finally agreed since he was going to have to miss a day of work he would kill two birds with one stone.

I was required as driver, first to the oral surgeon and then right from there to the dentist. As the one not under anesthesia I was given the instructions at the oral surgeon for the follow up care and pain management. Russ had a head wrap ice pack and alternating pain medication. No hot foods, no straws, only soft food.

After all the medical and dental procedures were complete I brought him home to recover. He was well enough by four-thirty for me to leave him to go teach Mah Jongg.

I got home tonight and he was up, not swollen at all, no ice pack, had eaten dinner and done two loads of laundry and was working. So much for recovery. He still has to heal and then get a permanent replacement tooth made, but as far as this being a bad day he has done quite well. I am a little suspicious about how that anesthesia affected him, laundry is not something he ever does. I’m not complaining about his, but if I knew having his wisdom teeth it was going to have this kind of effect on him I would have insisted it happened earlier, just for the sake of his teeth.

The Day Every Parent Waits For

Today was Carter’s first day of work at her first full time job outside of college. Russ and I are so proud of how she found her way to get a job at Catalant Technologies as a Network Development Analyst. Although I don’t exactly understand all that she will do there, from Carter I learned that Catalant is a company that helps companies looking for consultants for projects and helps consultants looking for work.

Carter will get to use all the skills from her work at Bain Capital, and at Explore, even her camp counselor training in this new position. She purposely looked for a younger company in Boston and she already reported in how they differ from other jobs she has had.

As a mother, this is the day you wait for, after 14 years of driving carpool, as I include preschool and subtract the years she drove herself, to the thousands of school lunches made, and spelling words quizzed, and colleges visited. The goal has always been to get her to adulthood, prepared to take care of herself and thrive in something she loves.

So congratulations to Carter on your first day of real world work. I hope it is exciting, and challenging and that you learn new things all the time. From experience I will say, you might not love everyone you work with, but you may also make some of your best friends. Maybe you will even be as lucky as I was and meet your lifelong partner at work. Just soak up all that you can and give them your best. This is a proud parent day for me.

Music and Memory

I just watched Anderson Cooper’s interview with Tony Bennet on 60 minutes. I sobbed as Tony, who at 95 with Alzheimer’s sang with Lady Gaga in his last concert in September. Although he is in the full throws of losing his memory, his musical and preforming memory were still with him. It was a miracle that he was able to command an audience as if he were 45. Musical memory is well documented. I know that I can still sing the whole eight and half minutes of American Pie, although no one would want to listen.

Since I am very unmusical I am hopeful that if I live long enough and am unfortunate to lose my memory that some things I have done most of my life I will still be able to do. I imagine I could still cook as long as it is not a long drawn out dish. Certainly, “somebody died? Fried chicken” will be with me until my family needs it to be brought to them.

I hope that I will be able to play Mah Jongg right up until the end. Playing is good for your brain and I hope it helps me retain it although I might have to play the 2018 card. I fear that If I lose my mind I won’t even be able to play “go fish.”

“Have you got any fours?”

“No, go fish.”

“Have you got any fours?” It’s a bad ground hog day scenario.

In my father’s last years he had taken to listening to a lot of gospel music that was from his childhood. He didn’t have Alzheimer’s, but his memory was not as good as it once was, but he wouldn’t admit that.

For all my friends who have a loved one in throes of dementia, I hope that you can sing with them some songs from their adolescence. It might be a bright way to have a connection. At least none of the song s you might sing will be as long as “American Pie.”

Non-Stop Hand Sewing

Covid winter days are the best time to make quilts. There is no guilt that you are not out doing something more social or important. It is cold anyway so what better time to be covered in a quilt. It’s North Carolina winter here and everything closes at the idea of snow.

So I made this very modern king sized quilt. Making it too no time at all. My long arm quilter, Tina quilted it fast. Today I woke up with the whole day of painters doing our doors and molding so I thought the sweat shop would be the best place to spend the day. Russ had some ideas of things we could do and I told him I would be with him as soon as I sewed on the binding of the quilt.

The binding is the finished edge. You sew one side of it with the machine and fold it over the edge and hand stitch the other side. My estimate to Russ was off by 100%. It took me six hours to do the finishing not the three I predicted. I was not at my fasted sewing at one point while I was watching the first episode of The Guilded Age on HBO. It was worth it, the show that is.

The binding was extra tricky because I put white on the white side of the quilt and navy on the Navy side, meeting in the middle of the medium blue and grey. By the time I rounded the fourth corner hand stitching and only had about 15% left my hand started to cramp up a bit from holding the needle, but I made it without any long lasting injuries.

Tina, still has my tiny stars quilt to do and I will be getting that back in a week or two. I hope my hand recovers before I have to hand sew that binding. I need that hand for needlepoint.