happy new year to all!!!

this should about cover it for resolutions for the year, if you add that the third chimp's pose also means "eat no evil".

how long is your list??

Good resolutions are simply checks that men draw on a bank where they have no account.
--Oscar Wilde (1854 - 1900)

and i heard him exclaim 'ere he drove out of sight, "merry christmas to all, and to all, a good night."

another fruity slice of life.........

another below zero day.

i scurry into menard's at noon to buy a gallon of paint for the ceiling of the new room.

i changed my mind about the wall color once and now i've got misgivings on the ceiling color.

i make my final color selection ( and i mean final or it'll be the dr. phil show for this marriage) in the paint dept. and head for the check-outs.

the lady in line in front of me is a store employee going off-duty. she's chit-chatting with the checker as her transaction progresses and they finish up business. the checker wishes her a merry christmas.

"oh, wait, i almost forgot to give you your present!" the customer/worker replies. she reaches into her big purse and pulls out a gift, beautifully wrapped, roughly the size of a brick. and it sounded like a brick as she plopped it down onto the counter with a big thud.

"it's a fruitcake!!" she proudly announced to the checker.

the look on that checker's face was priceless!

"you shouldn't have." said she.

deja vu or what? did i not write about the holiday fruitcake recently?? :)

i laughed all the way to my car.

if she choses not to regift it she can use it as extra weight in the trunk of her vehicle all winter.

friday nite on white street

took this tonite-- my charlie brown tree cut from our place on the river, my ancient skates, and an old sled from the 30's. that is the extent of decorating the front of the house this year.
i just might dig out some big old colorful c-9s though for the yew bushes. saw a house decorated with those fat old school lites and it brought back lots of good memories.
walking at nite this time of year is hushed and heavenly.
tonite giant gauzy white clouds were suspended motionless below the big black bowl of the nite sky. the beauty and silence, so humbling.

post holiday pot-luck regrets...'tis the season...

and last weekend's trip to chicago was 3 days full of slips, and i am really cranky about it now.
this last 10 pounds or so is really gorilla-glued to my body. a monkey on my back, so to speak.

perspective

it is -11 degrees this morning.

it is also garbage/recyclables day, being thursday.

and every thursday as i leave for work i usually see a youngish, thin, unhealthy-looking guy on a broken-down old bike. he comes around and fishes out aluminum cans from the recycle bins on the curbs in the neighborhood. i always leave our cans for him rather than take them in for money myself.

this morning as i pulled out of the driveway, who do i see out in the blistering cold but the guy on the crappy bike, trying to ride down our icy, snowy street, balancing 2 garbage bags of cans on the handlebars. he was wearing a thin jacket and had a raggedy thing tied around his face for protection from the cold.

how ashamed of myself i was at that moment, for i'd just been whining mentally to myself about having to go out in the cold, having to go to work, blah, blah, self-pity blah as i started the car and left the driveway.

the disappointments of christmas past

dear santa,

just writing to reminisce with you about the year i did not get the chatty cathy doll that i'd asked for.

i'm sure it was a simple mistake on your part, as you were so busy that christmas eve nite in the early 60's. i'm sure that the one you delivered next door to my best friend sharon at 738 marinette ave. was meant for me at 740 marinette ave.

never wanted to make an issue of it. however, if you would like to make it up to me i would graciously accept a chatty cathy doll this year.

i realize, of course, that they have become very collectable and therefore price-y as dolls go; so if you just can't lay your hands on one i would certainly be satisfied with a nikon camera in the d40 to d60 range with an additional 55-200 zoom lens and a close-up lens for taking snaps of flowers and such.

and i did really appreciate the betsy wetsy doll you brought me. she piddled her little heart out for me for months--even when i fed her orange juice, milk, and kool-aid. the cough syrup, though--not so much.

sincerely,

evie kuran dieck

ps-i'll put out hot-buttered rum and tom 'n jerry fixins instead of boring old hot cocoa......

building a 5 story gingerbread mansion this year? better get on the stick!

no panic here.

have scaled back and kicked back and some traditions are victims of christmas down-sizing this year.

christmas cookies for example. why should i make dozens and dozens of the things that are my greatest downfall in the healthy-eating department?? after the holidays i would eat them all, even in a frozen state from a sneaky trip to the freezer in the basement. i know that about myself.

decorating is taking a hit this year, too, mainly because of the remodeling project on the family room that is in a frenzy of completion this week.
by the time i get the house cleaned of the insidious plaster dust that is coating everything in sight santa will be on the roof tapping his foot and checking his watch.

in the interest of saving trees, time and scotch tape i am toying with some new "minimalist" ideas in the gift-wrapping department.

christmas cards are happening this year because i was in the mood to send them. some years i don't. if i see cards at a store that i fall in love with it's a good sign.
this year i found glitter-spangled doves of peace. and i mean glittery. wore it around for days. no wonder glitter is called the herpes of craft supplies...

best email opened today

"fa la la la la di da'

10:01am today.

jcpenney store at the ever-shrinking pine tree mall.

first one in the store to avoid the crowds and catch the clerks at their best.

"may i help you, ma'am?" (clerk, not making eye contact of any kind with customer)

"yes, i have a return, please." (customer, as she takes a nicely folded sweater out of the bag and sets it on the counter with the receipt on top)

"do you have a receipt?" (clerk)

"yes, it's right there." (customer)

"oh. but the sweater is inside out." (clerk)

"no, it's not." (customer)

"yes, it is. the zipper placket is on the outside." (clerk)

"no, that is the style. with the zipper placket exposed on the front." (customer)

"then it's defective." (clerk)

"no, that is the style. if it's defective then you have at least 6 other defective sweaters still hanging on the rack." (customer)

"well, it's unattractive." (clerk)

"my thoughts exactly. that is why i am returning it. although designing it like that did make it cheaper to make." (customer)

"i doubt that." (clerk)

"they didn't have to turn under any raw edges to put in the zipper. that saves time. that means it's cheaper to make. time is money." (customer)

"i still doubt it. and it is ugly." (clerk)

"thank you. have a nice day." (customer, walking away, as she mentally wishes she was into early morning drinking because a bloody mary or something like it is surely called for after this little customer service vignette. she settles for an apple fritter and coffee from the bakery.)

windy city weekend

my favorites from our weekend in chicago.

snaps from the kriskindlemart in daley plaza.

the hot spiced wine was delicious and the company was exceptional.

it was the 4th annual trip to chicago with the daughters.

not one picture i took of them turned out.

i am much better at taking pictures of things than people.

must require less talent.

ps---the tree at the mart is made of 100 some wisconsin grown balsams all squished and wired together to form this gigantic cone of a tree. impressively engineered, but not too impressive to look at by my very picky standards for pretty christmas trees.

"let them eat cake"

the lowly fruitcake.

the butt of holiday jokes.

the gift you send as a practical joke to a friend. or an enemy.

and the next year the recipient of the fruitcake sends it back. and mysteriously, it doesn't look any worse for wear. maybe they are made of melamine.

what's the history behind this perennial bane of christmas gift recipients everywhere?

must research this. especially since the lady at the hostess bakery store (no, her name is not dolly madison) told me that she has sold 800 of these colorful little fruity bricks so far this holiday season.

when you give someone a fruitcake and they look you squarely in the eye and say, "you shouldn't have", believe them. they mean it.

and they will get even.....................................................

poor oprah

no amount of $$ and 24/7 access to personal trainers, personal chefs, personal life coaches or shrinks can keep any one of us from being human and therefore, prone to weakness and failure.

only oprah could turn it into a giant publicity opportunity.

i don't think a lot of regular folk suffering from metabolic disorders, eating disorders, and depressive disorders will be able to relate real well to her current situation, since they don't have the same resources at their disposal to battle their problems, and they also lack a bff to stick on national tv to tut-tut with the tv anchorfolk aboutwhat a tough, tough year they've had.

change of plan

after talking with several athetick-y type friends i have changed my winter activity plan.

ix-nay on the xc skis and yes to snowshoes for both dennis and me for christmas from santa.

we were out in the country yesterday cutting down a tree (with brodie breaking trail for us) and i couldn't help but think that it would've been great to be on snowshoes for tree-hunting.

we bagged a beautiful spruce and a small tree for molly for her apt.

brodie had a field day of doggie nose candy----scents galore!!

it was our first tree-cutting outting without the 3 kids.

so it was different.

but good.

because we started with just us.

and now we are just us again.

56 years old and resuming a sport i enjoyed...

damn!! forgot the poles in the car!

(did i mention that tomorrow i'm turning 56?)

"when i am old i shall forget to wear purple" (and not give a damn.)

he comes tonite

as you wrestle with the devil today, trying your best not to be naughty, remember that st. nick comes tonite!

so be good and remember to put your shoes outside the door before bed.

if you're so naughty a person that the shoes are empty tomorrow morning, ah, well, at least they've had a good airing...

"it's he-re" (like the line in poltergeist)

it's he-re, winter time, ready or not, here she comes!

isn't this a lovely photo?
i do love being outside on winter nights, especially when the moon's waxing.
i do most of my walking at night, and my route along the river is so peaceful, and so quiet.
and so safe.
just me and the brodie, dressed warmly and growing icicles in our noses.
he is a trooper in the snow, ever nose to ground on the trail of some scent.
what an earth dog.
what a companion.
wish i had another one like him.
oops! did i say that out loud?!?

does santa read blogs???

just say no to chri$tmas

ah, guilt, that most crippling of emotions.

it's so hard to say "no" to being led down the commercial path to what is now not christmas, but chri$tmas.

no wonder it's the most depressing time of year for so many people.

not enough $ to give their loved ones "happiness".

not enough talent to have the perfectly decorated home.

not enough time to present gifts that look professionally wrapped.

it's hard not to feel guilted into believing the commercial vision of christmas joy that's pounded into us every holiday season.

i know people who breathe a deep sigh of relief when the holidays are over, relieved that they've survived another christmas.

how did we allow this crazine$$ to take over christmas?

december first

december first.

does mentioning the date give you the fight or flight response? twinges of anxiety?

so much to do! shop, shop, shop! spend, spend, spend! bake, bake, bake!

wait a minute, take a breath. make a cup of tea, sit down with your list, and write your own name right at the top, with this thought in mind: "this year i put myself at the top of the list--not for gift-giving to self but for time-giving to self.. i will give myself the gift of some down-time this year to enjoy the season and not just survive it."

leftovers from yesterday....we're all having them, aren't we???

"freedom from want"

we all recognize this as one of the "four freedoms" series painted by norman rockwell for life magazine back in the day.

back in the day "freedom from want" meant having the basic needs of life.

a set of "sunday clothes" in the closet, and food on the table on a predictable basis.

during the depression clothes hooks were empty and so were pantries.

people stood in line for a tin cup of watery soup and considered themselves lucky if the soup didn't run out before they made it to the front of the line.

we've all heard the stories of how dire it was in those dark years.

i was thinking today about what that phrase "freedom from want" should mean in the materialistic world of today.

we are so ambitious, avaricious, and acquisitive for "stuff"-----not milk and bread and meat to keep us going from one day to the next---no, no, we want designer food, mcmansions, desirable cars, and closets of clothes to cover our outsides to feel better about what we are on the inside.

wouldn't it be great to have real freedom from "want"?

we would be so much more at peace with ourselves and our lives.

so much more able to go after what we need.

not what we want.

we all know at least one "chips and soda" person, don't we? a quick swing down the junk aisle at the grocery, breeze thru the express checkout and they're set for the pot luck! calculated incompetence, i'm thinkin.......

recently i was asked why i blog in lower case letters. (by an anonymous reader)

hmm...had to think about that for a bit.

it's easier to type without having to use the shift key every sentence and proper name. i am not plagued by arthritis, thank god, but it is easier to skip the caps.

i am not the burnin' keyboarder that all my kids are so by saving time when i blog i am using time wisely. ;-)

who made up this rule and why do i have to follow it?

if you care that much why not i.d. yourself when you asked the question?

R U A COWARD?

how's that for capitalization?

gotta go. have a butterball to roast.

november 11

wheeling and dealing

am in the process of negotiating the purchase of a small travel trailer to set up out at the river.

nothing grand, 20 feet long or so, with simple features. so if all goes well there will be a cozy shelter (the outhouse doesn't count)under the big oak on south park dr. next summer.

i long to spend overnites out there, out of the 'big city' and out of touch. which is why i'm happy that it's a cell phone dead zone. maybe that's what we should name the place: "dieck's dead zone". no. doesn't sound right. sounds like a bar. or a funeral home.

since we bought the land we've been trying on different names, with the intention of eventually putting up a sign at the road. nothing's quite clicked yet but we'll know the right one when it comes along. maybe this: "oleo acres: the low-priced spread". no. people nowadays don't even know what oleo is...wouldn't get it.

a thought provoking essay

Peggy Wallace Kennedy is the daughter of George C. Wallace and Lurleen Wallace, who both were governors of Alabama. She lives in Montgomery, Alabama, with her husband, Mark Kennedy, a retired state Supreme Court justice. They have two sons, Leigh, a decorated veteran of the Iraq war, and Burns, a college sophomore.


MONTGOMERY, Alabama (CNN) -- I heard a car door slam behind me and turned to see an elderly but spry woman heading my way.

The night before, a gang of vandals had swept through the cemetery desecrating graves, crushing headstones and stealing funereal objects.

My parents' graves, situated on a wind-swept hill overlooking the cemetery, had not been spared. A large marble urn that stood between two granite columns had been pried loose and spirited away, leaving faded silk flowers strewn on the ground.

I was holding a bouquet of them in my arms when the woman walked up and gave me a crushing hug. "Honey," she said, "you don't know me, but when I saw you standing up here on this hill, I knew that you must be one of the girls and I couldn't help myself but to drive up here and let you know how much me and my whole family loved both of your parents. They were real special people."

I thanked her for her kind words as we stood side by side gazing down at the graves of Govs. George Wallace and Lurleen Wallace.

After a few moments, the woman leaned into me and spoke almost in a conspiratorial whisper. "I never thought I would live to see the day when a black would be running for president. I know your daddy must be rolling over in his grave."

Not having the heart or the energy to respond, I gave her bony arm a slight squeeze, turned and walked away. As I put the remnants of the graveyard spray in the trunk of my car, I assumed that she had not bothered to notice the Barack Obama sticker on my bumper.

When I was a young voter and had little interest in politics, my father would mark my ballot for me. As I thought about the woman in the cemetery, I mused that if he were alive and I had made the same request for this election, there would be a substantial chance, though not a certainty, that he would put an "X" by Obama's name.

Perhaps it would be the last chapter in his search for inner peace that became so important to him after becoming a victim of hatred and violence himself when he was shot and gravely injured in a Laurel, Maryland, shopping center parking lot. Perhaps it would be a way of reconciling in his own mind that what he once stood for did not prevent freedom of opportunity and self-advancement from coming full circle; his final absolution.

George Wallace and other Southern governors of his ilk stood defiantly in the 1950s and '60s in support of racial segregation, a culture of repression, violence and denial of basic human rights.

Their actions and the stark images of their consequences that spread across the world galvanized the nation and gave rise to a cry for an end to the American apartheid. The firestorms that were lit in Birmingham, Oxford, Memphis, Tuscaloosa, Montgomery, Little Rock and Selma were a call to arms to which the people responded.

And now a new call to arms has sounded as Americans face another assault on freedom. For if the stand in the schoolhouse door was a defining moment for George Wallace, then surely the aftermath of Katrina and the invasion of Iraq will be the same for George W. Bush.

The trampling of individual freedoms and his blatant contempt for the rights of the average American may not have been as obvious as an ax-handle-wielding governor, but Bush's insidiousness and piety have made him much more dangerous.

Healing must come, hope will be our lodestar, humility will reshape the American conscience, and honesty in both word and deed will refresh and invigorate America, and having Barack Obama to lead will give us back our power to heal.

My father lived long enough to come to an understanding of the injustices borne by his deeds and the legacy of suffering that they left behind. History will teach future generations that he was a man who used his political power to promote a philosophy of exclusion.

As his daughter, who witnessed his suffering in the twilight of his years and who witnessed his deeds and heard his words, I am one who believes that the man who, on March 7, 1965, listened to the reports of brutality as they streamed into the Governor's Mansion from Selma, Alabama, was not the same man who, in March of 1995, was welcomed with open arms as he was rolled through a sea of African-American men, women and children who gathered with him to welcome another generation of marchers, retracing in honor and remembrance the historic steps from Selma to Montgomery.

Four years ago, the young Illinois senator who spoke at the Democratic National Convention mesmerized me. I hoped even then that he would one day be my president.

Today, Barack Obama is hope for a better tomorrow for all Americans. He stands on the shoulders of all those people who have incessantly prayed for a day when "justice will run down like waters and righteousness as a mighty stream" (Amos 5:24).

Perhaps one day, my two sons and I will have the opportunity to meet Barack Obama in person to express our gratitude to him for bringing our family full circle.

And today, the day after the election, I am going to ride to the cemetery so that if asked, I can vouch for the fact that the world is still spinning but my father lies at peace.

The opinions expressed in this commentary are solely those of Peggy Wallace Kennedy.

a promise kept

note: started this entry on november 5, dilly-dallied and published on november 9.
what can i say? the title of my blog kinda covers it..... : )



i've traveled south on hwy 41 thousands of times.


and every time i've passed a certain spot, a cemetery on a hill alongside the highway, i've told myself, "i am going to stop there sometime, sit on the steps built into the hillside, sip a cup of coffee in the company of the dead and watch the living go about their north or southbound business. but not today, because i am in a hurry to get to ___________(fill in the blank)."


yesterday november 5th i was at a meeting in green bay and tuned in to npr for some company on the drive north to home.


i listened to post-election interviews with common people, people like me, some of them moved to tears, speaking with trembling voices about newly reborn feelings of hope for our country.



suddenly the massive historical significance of the election, in my lifetime, of an african american to the highest office in our land came over me in the form of a huge emotional wave. and i knew it was finally the day to pull off the hamster wheel of the highway and sit on those steps.



so i did. the stone steps were old and crumbling. i sat there thinking about all those whose final climb up those steps took the help of 6 strong men. what would they think of the history being made today?

the boughs of an ancient oak spread out above and behind me, leaves dried out but still holding on, the wind making them rustle with dry papery voices--i imagined the sound to be post-election commentary from the cemetery constituency all around me. and that made me laugh out loud. imagine! something so remarkable that even the dead are excited about it!

crimson glories

this was taken in september. i love it.

my babies

molly and brodie. sept. 2008

it was a good year for morning glories

just a little reminder for tomorrow..............

i will hit the polls on my way to work. how about you???

dear lord...

dear lord,

please extend today's gorgeous weather thru tomorrow.


i have a multitude of tulip bulbs yet to plant.

and hyacinths.

and narcissus.

(big clearance sale at menard's)

no mousy women here!!

what have i been doing lately???

ah yes, it's flu shot clinic time again.
they're all there an hour early, and they all want to be first.
some people never grow up.
but i love 'em for it.
you will grow older, but you can stay immature forever.
flu clinics are where i have met some of the wisest souls ever.
and also some of the wiseass-iest.

long time no blog

i've picked my candidate, i'm voting for my candidate, enough already.
give us a break and give the rest of the ad money to the food pantries in our country.
and give the equivalent of sarah's 150K wardrobe to battered women's shelters.

question: "whadja thinka that dibait th'other nite?"

my answer: "he wandered around the stage so aimlessly throughout that i thought he might need to be fitted with a gps! i'm relieved that he didn't topple off the thing into someones' lap."

we need to hear the truth............................

or your dentures, whatever the case may be.

thought for the day

"dear john and sara"

cancel the debate because you are indispensable to the bailout talks??

right. and i can see michigan from my town in wisconsin. so there.

"what the ----! do i look puffy to you?"

i gained 4 pounds this week. it must be congestive heart failure. not the apple cake.

human nature....

one of my coworkers, new to my office, a person i took an instant liking to, brought in a home-made apple cake today.
all the best flavors and smells of fall in a 9x13 pan!
how could i say no to that?
i kept going to the office kitchen, taking razor-thin slices at a time, stuffin' them in when no one was around.
who am i kidding here?

is this the economic formula for the big bailout???

It's been so long since math class, right? What is this thing anyhow?

Here's a hint. The above formula has everything to do with points. And these points are hot topics of conversation at our house and have been for 6 months now.

Not points as in badger football, packer football, or brewer baseball.

This formula is the calculation for figuring out weightwatcher point values of foods and we are into it in a big way. But we cheat by using a little calculator that thinks for us.

And it's working. We are working our way to slim 'n trim!

September 22, 2008

It's the first day of Autumn. Always a day of conflicting feelings for me....

Tears, idle tears, I know not what they mean,

Tears from the depth of some divine despair,

Rise in the heart and gather in the eyes,

In looking on the happy autumn fields,

And thinking of the days that are no more.

--Alfred, Lord Tennyson

worship in the great outdoors

So will I build my altar in the fields,

And the blue sky my fretted dome shall be,

And the sweet fragrance that the wild flower yields

Shall be the incense I will yield to thee.- Samuel Taylor Coleridge

HMMPH!

OUCH!

SHE IS SO MEAN!

SNOT.

it's summer by the bay...wish you were here

my westie--- the chick magnet

if i was gay, or a guy looking to meet ladies, i would definitely use brodie as my chick magnet.

all you have to do is take him out for a walk, and it never fails.

some woman will cross the street,

or come off her porch,

or, as was the case tonite,

stop her vehicle to approach and shmoozle up my dog.

the other nite it was 2 women on riverside drooling over him and raving about his cuteness!

he draws women like no bogo sale i've ever experienced!

hmmm....guess i better not let dennis out for solo walks with the brodester. might lose both of 'em...

sacre bleu!!

it's bastille day!!

but i have to go to work?!?

Zut!!

plus it's lundi, the longest day of the week....