Me and The New York times

In 1938 when I arrived in America I was intrigued by the newspapers that were so inexpensive. At home in Sweden we subscribed to two papers, a morning one and an afternoon one. They were not expensive, but fewer pages. The first responsible task given to me before I was five years old was to go into the village to buy the evening post. A visitor who did not know that we subscribed to the paper was impatient and could not wait until it was delivered. Helsingborgs Posten was the name of this paper and according to my mother it was the conservative paper and this visitor probably had to check the stock market. He gave me a dime, or a tenoring. It was so small that I could not feel it in my tightly fisted hand and when I got halfway to the shop I had to open my fist to see if it was really there. My hand had become damp because of my responsibility, and when I spread my fingers the coin flew out of my hand. Had I dropped it I could have found it, but it flew out and since I was standing on a cobble stone road with grass growing between the stones, where could it be? I was on my hands and knees crying while looking for it. What could I tell everyone when I got home?

Around the corner came a well dressed man, obviously a summer resident. When he saw me he asked 'What's the matter?' I told him about my dime. No more than an instant later he found the coin. I never saw that man again, but if I had, I would have asked him if he found the dime in his pocket.

What has this memory to do with The New York Times. As a 'green horn' when I first saw an American paper I had found an inexpensive way to become a citizen five years later. Read the paper every day and become more American than an American. My job as a kitchen maid meant that I had to help the cook prepare food before each meal, clean up after each meal, and keep the kitchen clean. I had many hours a day and all night for myself and after asking the butler not to throw out the paper, I was all set. The first pay-day I bought a pocket version of a Dictionary. In the beginning it was slow going and there were slang words that I could not find.

I learned to ignore them but often missed the point of that line. And Jokes were impossible. In one newspaper I read a comic strip called: Them days is gone forever. Wow. I knew better grammar than that.

The New York Times impressed me in so many ways. The full page ads. The drawings illustrating the merchandize for sale. The book section. I had to be careful. I read a review of a book called CLIMATE AND CIVILIZATION written by a professor in Iceland. His name was Whiljalmar Steffanson. The book sounded so interesting I had to buy it. I think it cost $20 or more. I would read the reviews but bought very few of the books. Much later I learned about Library Cards.

Most of all the paper taught me about the political life in America. President Roosevelt intrigued me and I admired him almost as much as I admired Eleonore Roosevelt. Little did I know that I would meet and work with FDR in Warm Springs Georgia years later. But more about the New York Times next time.

Again,a new year

2012. I had the happiest Holiday season that I can remember. In 92 years I could conceivably have forgotten a happier one. From the time I was a child? No, there was not one. ( I never got the grocery store I wished for) From my teens? No, things were miserable at home. From my early years in America? No. I was homesick in a strange way. From the first and only year Sam and I had before he had to go overseas? We spent it alone in a tiny rented house with a cow who stationed herself by our kitchen window. We were happy we were together, but not Christmas happy.

Then Sam went overseas and those years were worry some. I remember one year we, Sam's family and I, spent Christmas with an aunt of Sam's and her large family. Auntie Aggie at the piano playing the old familiar Christmas songs. I sat with her on the piano bench holding a three year old little boy on my lap and there were happy feelings stirring in my breast but not strong enough to forget that Sam was in danger in Europe. So I think 2011 was the happiest.

What made the Season so memorable? It began at Thanksgiving time. Gilbert who spent that season in Colorado with Chris and Kate and Tory had given Anna, our first daughter, permission to use his house on the beach for our celebration. And then Jane, our youngest daughter, and her family decided to fly up from San Francisco. The party began early and soon the fabulous eating began. Jane is a good cook, her husband Tom is also and I think I have already told of Anna's and Steve's talents in that direction. And I added my old fashioned talents. When I got tired i went home to my place and they walked the dog, played games and found treasures the beach. It was very lonesome when they all left.

The period between Thanksgiving and Christmas was welcome. A little dieting, a little resting and a lot of knitting. I made scarves for all the females in the family. And then the baking began. Rye bread for the 'grav lax' (salmon) and cardamon coffee cake for breakfasts. Swedish Meatballs, of course. And then the family from Colorado arrived. Tory who had been stationed in Alaska (Coast Guard) came first. Then Gilbert, who immediately went fishing for Steelheads

in Morse Creek. (first legal date to catch them) He caught a big one. Then he went crabbing in the mornings and salmon fishing, They had so much fish, and I was invited to join them for most of the meals. Chris was so generous, I almost always left with a care package.

On Christmas Day Anna and Steve arrived for Christmas Breakfast. Chris's famous Christmas Eggs and coffeecake that Tory had baked for the occasion. (She is very generous with the butter and sugar and nuts and raisins. I hate to say it, hers is soo much better than mine) And then again, there were four of the best cooks making the best food. I felt a little guilty, but I told myself I had contributed to the hungry, both the Food Bank and The Salvation Army.

Yesterday the last departure before Gilbert goes back to spend the winter in Colorado.

PS I got the grocery store when I was in my late twenties. I made it with the old fashioned match boxes for Swedish matches. I put a little brad for the handle to pull out the drawer. I filled the drawers with sugar, salt, flour, and chocolate bits and I had eggs from Easter, small small eggs. The counter was a piece of thick glass. I had sundries and homemade brooms etc. Nobody came to buy anything in my store.

Thank you for information about KGO

The firing of all the talk show people on KGO must have been instigated by the far right.

The conversation was almost always very fair and the only one-sided commentator was

Dr. Wattenberg (sp) who, I heard had been rehired. The far right must be scared that Obama will win a second term. I wish I could remember who all the companies were who advertised. I would shun them all. Except the radio out fit from Los Angeles. Luckily I remember their phone number so I can call them and tell them to stop advertise there.

One day when I was young and eager to get established as a portrait painter I called Don Sherwood, the five to nine am host on KSFO, if I could come in from Contra Costa County, to paint him while he was anchored by his mike. He said yes, maybe by the urging of Herb Cain. I would drive across the Bay Bridge, scared breathless. The four young children were well taken care of by their father, there we re not too many cars on the road that early. So what made me so scared? Where would I park? How would I get along with Don Sherwood. If you want to find out what happened to Don's portrait, google it, and an old, old blog should turn up and tell you the story.

On my advent calendar, it was Anna's turn with her red wrapping paper. I was mystified for at least five minutes. What could be the meaning of those two items. They were intended to be used as stoppers for a bottle who had lost his cork. I immediately went to my larder and corked my Olive Oil bottle. Thank you Anna. ( I bet she had seen my corkless bottle last time she made salad dressing.)

What fun.

I woke up at one o'clock, was still awake at three thirty, decided to get up to knit on my Christmas presents. I was strong enough to get past the Advent Calendar. Watched an old, old who-done-it and fell asleep until six. It was Jane's turn to have a present hanging on the sixth hook. Felt like a small sort of can. It was a small can of Trader Joe's Anchovy Filets. What a great gift. Can't wait till five tonight to have a couple of crackers with a slice of hard boiled egg and a taste of that can with my drink. Thank you Jane.

I have such sad news. My favorite radio station, KGO, has totally changed their night time programming. One reason for my insomnia. What could have happened that they fired all the oldtime people. I have listened to Ray Talgiaphero since our Diablo days. And I have admired John Rothman since he was a fill in until he became a nightly person from ten until one or two. And the wonderful woman with triplets. How will I ever sleep again with all my night time friends gone. If any reader of this blog knows what happened, please let me know. I can't tell you how devastated this has made me. From, going to bed with a glad cry, I have become, Oh, must I.

mornings are more fun now

Today is my third day of opening advent presents. December first had a white paper wrapped one and I knew that was one from Martha. There were three tiny cookie cutters and if I make pepper cake cookies this year I will use them. My recipe is very complicated. You make the dough and let it rest overnight and then role it into a paper thin thing and when this dough sticks to the surface of your baking board you add more flour and then try again. When you finally succeed, there is so much flour in your cookies that they have become a dull gray-brown tough item. Steve, my son-in-law is the only one who can make them into the delicate items they are supposed to be. If he is planning to make them this year, I may send him my new cutters and ask him to make me a dozen cookies.

Yesterday I opened my second present. There were two small packets of chocolate-almond spread which I tried immediately on my breakfast English muffin. Yum! It was in a white package which I assumed was from Jane. I was wrong. It was Anna's wrapping paper. I told the girls that they are richer than I was when making mine so long ago. I would have used the three cutters for three different days and the spread for two different days.

Today, the third day, I opened a red and white striped paper one. It was so heavy that the board is now listing to starboard. (I will put a tack under the right hand corner to keep it from listing even more in the future) But not til I'm sure my neighbor is awake. You may wonder what was so heavy in Jane's package. Money. a lot of money. Beautiful shiny coins. Filled with chocolate.

When I go to our local variety store there is always some of these coins near the check-out counter. But the little bag they are sold in is much smaller than this one and the money is not as shiny and new. I will buy one next time I go there. Just to compare them. Jane's contained

$8.07. Thank you Jane.

Advent calendar

When my four children were little, I made advent calendars for all of them. First I made one board to hang on the wall in a central place. Then I attached 24 ring to which I could tie four presents each day to be opened until the 24th. Each child had a present wrapped in his own color wrapping paper. We were fairly poor at that time, so the presents were insignificant. Maybe one piece of gum or a small pencil or a candy bar. A few days before dec 24th there would be a small box of thank you notes for the four of them to use after the holidays. Sometimes there would be a small treasure fit for the individual receiver. It was fun to do each year, but the wrapping was a forever job. Four times 24 I think makes 96 and it took forever to wrap that many little packages. But when you heard one of them come shouting down the hall, saying 'Look Anna, I got a great little book about birds. Then it all seemed worth it.

I told someone this autumn about the advent calendars an that someone I think was Shreve; She told my four children about the fact that I had told her I had never received an advent calendar. And so this year, on Thanksgiving Day an Advent calendar was delivered to my place. I love it. The base had been used for Anna's two children. On the twenty four rings that have been sewn onto the brown felt covering the board hang a present for each day. The packages are wrapped in three different kind of papers, I know that the one for dec 1 is from Martha. I am eager to wake up on Thursday so I can open it to see what may be hidden under the the white tissue paper.From where I sit it looks as though there are two to open on Dec 2.

The board it self is a wonderful Christmas decoration. There are two larger Santas. A mother Santa with a white apron, making her look as though she was interrupted while baking cookies.

At the end of the line is Papa Santa, and between them are two cute little Santas. signifying Shreve and Karin. What a lot of work Anna had to do to make this for me. I will be forever happy about my first Advent Calendar.

Food

I love it when Shreve talks about food. I have her cook book and I can sit and read it like a novel. It always ends up with my going into the kitchen and since I am not Gluten sensitive I will often cheat and add something she is not allowed to have.

Tonight I am having the noodles with the truffle oil. I have two sections of Tony Roma's spare ribs in the refrigerator, one of which I will heat up on my BBQ. (A gift from one of my favorite sons-in-law) and my dinner will consist of spare ribs, noodles with a drop of truffle oil, a green vegetable also left over from yesterday, with a few drops of Ranch dressing. For dessert I will have a whole Kiwi fruit which I cut in half and eat out of the peel, the way you eat a grapefruit, only the spoon is much smaller. It is noon now and how do I wait.

Since we are talking about food, I will tell you what I had for breakfast, Coffee, one pear and one banana. For lunch I will have two thin slices of Safeway's Artisian black olive bread with a slice of tomato and a slice of cheese. If a dietary expert reads this, what am I missing. and since I have had two worry some instances of what could be gout, is there something wrong with today's menu? I will google Gout and see what that's all about.

Meanwhile, Bon Apetit.

Another NY Times day

This was a thinner version of my three day experience with the paper. I think I signed up for a month of weekends, but I am discontinuing the paper on Monday. The font is too small, and I will attempt to get the paper on my iPad where I can control that. But it is not the same as smelling the paper while reading. But we can't have every thing. I feel very fortunate to have what I have.

Speaking of being fortunate, my luck is in my family. All four children grew up to be sterling citizens. All seven grandchildren ditto. What more could one ask for. And now I have Martha's success to give thanks for. She is so busy with her new book, The Plot Whisperer, and with all the work she has with Plot consultations.

Our home outfit, Park View Villas, in conjunction with Port Angeles Senior Center are putting on a Gala affair tonight, called The Harvest Benefit Dinner. Our bus leaves at 3pm and we may be back in time for the third World Series game.

A wonderful day

I woke up at 5 am and opened the door for my cat to go out. There was the New York Times by my door. I made a cup of coffee and sat down with the paper. It was the Friday, Saturday and Sunday papers I had ordered. Lots of news of Qaddafi's brutal end and a thick section about money but the rest of it I read from cover to cover. Read a critique of a book on van Gogh. Toyed with the idea of buying it but the $4o.oo and the state of my book shelves deterred me.

At 9.30 I met Gilbert and Chris for breakfast downtown. Returned home and have spent the rest of the day reading our local paper (10 minutes) and the rest of the NY paper. I have had a fabulous day. Now I have to tell NY to discontinue delivering my paper for the font is too small. I will read the two papers that are coming to me, hoping I won't speed up my macular condition.

Just looking at the ads gave me a thrill and I remember how much I enjoyed the paper when I lived in New York in 1938. I did not have the money to buy the paper but by Monday when the rest of the people in the house had finished with it, it came to me, the lowest person on the totem pole. Every cent I earned, ( I think I was payed $60 or 70 and room and board,) had to be set aside for my future education. I have had a great day.

I will try again

Yesterday another failure with my blogging. I left half of a blog when I had to rush out for an appointment.(Actually my rushing would be better described as slow mo) When I came home and opened up again there was a big red and yellow stripe saying we cannot continue.

So now I may stop writing for fear that the computer will show the red and yellow stripe again.

I am so happy to see that there are people who still remember me. Thanks for the comments.

Two things I will report for everyone who is reading this. Martha, my second daughter who now lives in Santa Cruz with her husband Bobby, had a new book published and she had an event at a book store in Santa Cruz, where she was met with a full house and the books were sold out. There will be other events of this sort but when the first one is so successful, I think you have to thank the spirits out there. I have read the book and it is very inspiring and I felt I could write a best seller, but more than that I felt the last pages of the book revealed what a lovely person Martha Alderson is.

I have read a book by another 'relative'. Donna Rankin Love wrote WALKING FOR OUR LIVES. Donna is not a real relative, but about twenty years ago she was my sister-in-law. Toward the end of the 1970-ties she and a few another hundreds of people walked from California to Washington DC on a 'get rid of nuclear arms' plan. The book is riveting and full of adventures. But most of all, when the world was against them they tried harder and they succeeded. Martha's book THE PLOT WHISPERER, Secrets of Story Structure Any Writer Can Master. Her book will be in any book store and on Amazon. Donna's book on Amazon.

difficlty

When you are as old as I am, and people are putting roadblocks in your way, it is so easy to say 'OK, if google is going to be difficult, I give up.' I have sat down so many times with a smashing idea for a blog, and after half an hour of arguing with google, the idea would pale off and some other job would call and so all inspiration would be gone. Today when I have absolutely no idea of what to say, it worked the first time I tried. I feel better and as soon something enters my head , I will be in touch.

When Shreve wrote that there would be fewer messages from her for a while, someone commented, Maybe your grandmother could fill in for a while. Thank you for writing that. It filled me with a lot positive feelings. But I could never fill in for Shreve

Fire

Around 1930, there was a building fire North of Viken. It was a big two story house which looked as though it was made of cement. Our house on the beach, directly below the church, was close enough that we could hear all the emergency vehicles hurrying to save the burning house. It was owned by a wealthy seafarer. His wife and grown daughter were told to go to a neighbor's house. The fire was soon taken care of and the only sign of it the next morning were black streaks sweeping out the window of the daughter's upstairs bedroom.

Nothing like this had ever happened before, during my ten or twelve years of living there. It affected my life seriously. We four children were constantly warned of the danger of fire. At Christmas time we had real candles in our tree. During the school Christmas party we danced around a giant tree festooned with hundreds of real, lit, candles. When the last Christmas party (the 6th of January) was held in our house all our friends were invited and we got to share the candies and cookies that had decorated the tree during the holidays. Then we grabbed the tree and danced through all the rooms, and finally opened the front door and threw the tree out in the snow. And with this we had never heard about a fire around Christmas time. Our trees were of course greener and less flammable.

You may ask, why did the fire in the big house affect you so seriously. I don't know enough about Psychology but for the rest of my life I walked around with so much guilt. I had never been in the house with the fire but never looked at the streaks of black around that window. Even after WWII when Sam and I walked around Viken I never looked in that direction. In 1960 when I showed my children where I had grown up, I never showed them the house . I think my mother had imprinted in my brain that I was So Bad. The fire must have been my fault.

M emory

When I read this mornings paper, all abut Labor Day observances, here and in nearby towns, I wondered if we had something similar in Sweden. I am sure there was a day devoted to the honor of labor, but I do not remember what date it was. So refusing to get going with the daily chores, I tried to remember when I was first introduced to reading a newspaper. There were two newspapers daily in our house. The evening paper had a serial published at the very end of the paper. I remember my mother reading those to us at dinner, if they were suitable for children. Some times we tried to get a sneak view, if they were fun ones. But then the time I was excited about learning more was in 1932. Word had come over the radio that Ivar Kreuger had committed suicide in Paris. We all knew something about him. He was called the Match king. He was handsome. We did not know that he was also a crook.

A lot of the news was about his financial doings which was not understandable for me. I was 12 years old at the time. I think the Swedish papers were trying to white wash the story about him. I think people looked on him as another Alfred Nobel. It is always hard when a hero is discovered to have dirty feet. I looked up Kreuger's name on Google and my gosh, there are acres of stories about him. So now it is high noon and I have managed to spend the whole morning on the Match King. I heard somewhere long ago that if it had not been for Ivar Kreuger there might not have been such a serious crash in the late 1920ies.

Twin Towers

Much, much earlier you may remember that I wrote about Jack How. He was married to Sam's cousin Jane. He was a strange person. During the few years I knew him, he hit bottom and he soared to soaring heights. At first when I came to California, he was in the Navy serving at Oakland Knoll Hospital or maybe some other base near by, for he often he came home to spend the night. He was very amusing and could hold an audience breathless for hours. Suddenly he inherited $40.000. And suddenly he was driving a secondhand blue convertible and drinking nothing but French champagne. He claimed he was allergic to whiskey and gin drinks. It did not last long for Jane decided they had to pay bills, and just as suddenly as the money arrived, just as suddenly the money was gone. And so was his allergy.

When the war was over he found a job in a chemical company. I forget the name, but I think a plant was located near the Sacramento river somewhere in Contra Costa County. I imagine he was in sales for he was a spellbinder. In a few years he was working for that same company, but in their Wall Street office in New York City.

Many years later Sam and I had reason to go to New York. While there we called Jack and he said: "Lets have lunch" I said: "Where?" "How about the Twin Towers. We met on the ground floor and when Jack came he took us up to the fanciest restaurant for the most elegant lunch I still remember in detail.

Being in that building was an adventure, enjoying the fabulous view I will never forget. Jack died a few years later and I am happy he did not have to die in the inferno that occurred ten years ago.

Hurricane

We are all tired of hearing the word HURRICANE, I know. And the people living with IRENE are much more tired of her than we are. But know that we are hoping and praying for you and that your losses will be minor.

I began thinking of this as a blog when I heard one news caster saying that New York had never before suffered any loss of life from a Hurricane. Then another such person came on and discussed the 1954 where the losses were minimal. Still nothing said about the huge one that hit Long Island in 1938. This is Sunday afternoon and finally 1938 was mentioned and the huge losses in lives and property on Long Island.

A passenger Liner named KUNGSHOLM was approaching New York from Sweden. Suddenly we met enormous waves and most of the passengers hurried to their staterooms to be sick. That night in the dining room things were difficult. Food kept sliding from the plates and some things ended up on the floor. I was booked for a berth on a very low level of the ship and if the year had been a little earlier it would have been called STEERAGE. My room was tiny and I had two or three room mates. After dark I went to my room, opened the door, and closed it again for the smell was atrocious. I went farther up on the ship than we bottom dwellers were supposed to go. No one cared so I found a comfortable corner to sit and contemplate the people who were still up and around. It was entertaining but I went to sleep and no one bothered me. Around five in the morning I woke up and began climbing stairs. I needed fresh air and on a very upper deck I found a quiet place to sit and watch the waves that were breaking over the super structure of the ship.

A very tall woman approached me. She stood in front of me and when she began speaking to me she put on foot on the seat next to me. She was amazingly steady. She spoke English with a very pronounced Swedish accent. Most of the short interlude was where are you from, where are you going, what do you ,plan to do in America etc. It was Greta Garbo. She had been drenched by waves in her walk, the hair that had crept out from under her scarf tied around her head was a mess, but she was gorgeous none the less. Nothing could ever change her large eyes or her classic profile. When she left I went down to my cabin to get changed into something dry before my bunk mates woke up needing the bathroom. As far as I know they never made it to the dining room. Nobody told us that we had met the hurricane that had killed so many people and destroyed so much of Long Island.

You scoffed

You scoffed

i think it is high time that you know the the situation of our lives at the time you were born. there is no shame in having been poor. We made it, and if you felt that we were well off, I will take that as a compliment.

Sam did not make much money until he became a partner in Lenoir Assoc. and then we moved to Laguna Beach.

We bought the house in Diablo a couple of months before Jane was born, We got Mr.Imrie down from 25.500 to 22.000. Even that was more than we could afford. We lived even more on the edge of disaster than we did when you were able to remember. I wish we had saved Sam's little black book so you could see for yourself.

Sam was the one who hired our cleaning woman when we lived in Burlingame. We had three children under four and I was very pregnant with Jane. You may say 'what poor planning' but we had been foiled by you for five years and as you know that clock keeps running. Life would have been sad if Jane had not put in her grand entrance a month after your fourth Birthday. (It just dawned on me that you are having your 64th birthday any day now) As it was, we had to be satisfied with four children for I was disconnected for medical reasons at the time of Jane's birth.

You thought I was nothing but a house wife sitting around eating bon bons all day. Far from the truth. I canned 365 qts of fruit every year when you all ate some kind of baby cerial. And we usually paid nothing for the fruit, for I watched when people had fruit trees and did not save their crop. The only fruit I paid for was apricots and I would have to drive up the Sacramento Valley to get a lug of those. I remember my brother Gunne was at our house and when he saw the kitchen as I was peeling fruit, processing it it in the blender and then canning it in the huge blue pot he said 'This is not a kitchen. It is a laboratory. I did not have to do apricots, for apples were always free, but apricots were your favorite so I tried to have 52 quarts of those each year.

When Anna was born we did not have a dryer and we had two children in diapers. A lot of time spent in the back yard hanging up diapers. Just before Martha was born we got a drier. I spent what ever free time I had painting the house. Not the outside. The house had stood empty for years and that is not good for a house.

. When Jane was born we bought a dishwasher.

What Fire Works?

I tried to remember if I ever saw fire works in Sweden. The only thing of that sort were the big fires we lit on the beach below our house. It was mostly done on the evening before the first of May. Walborgsmassoafton, it was called. But I think it was permitted on Midsummernightsafton also. There would be lots of singing and occasionally dancing. But most often the dance was held in our park, around the Maypole. Midsummer is the 24 of June and yet the pole is called the May pole.

But if we wanted to see real fire works we would have to go to Kopenhagen. Tivoli gardens were always fun. Sometimes that got very expensive. One time I had my four children with me and when our trip on the train came into the place to exit the train my cildren had heard that once you were a paid customer you could ride around on the train as many times as you wished. I told them to follow me off, but as I turned around they stayed on the train, and then waved to me every time they circled again. I finally found out that they couldn't get off till they paid for all the extra rides. I said you will find me back at our hotel. Good luck! They all cried

'we have no money' Then you have to have more than good luck. They were more co-operative after that.

Another thing happened on that trip to Kopenhamn. I told them that we would go to a John Wayne movie. It was shown on the same street where our hotel was. So we decided to walk. And we walked and walked. Block after block. I was so tired from a long day of sight seeing. But we went on and on. When we got to the theatre we found out it was barn forbjudet. No children allowed. There was violence shown and children couldn't see violence. I wonder if I could have taken them to a movie with a little nudity shown. Live and learn.

But nothing compares with the fire works on July Fourth in America. It is stirring and everyone loves them. But they are war like.

Happy July5

Yesterday I had the best July 4 in memory. The day was warm and sunny. At 6am I watered my tomato plants and my geraniums, swept my front porch and then sat down to read the book I got from the library. Martha advised me to read it to do away with the pains in my left knee. The title by Louise Hay is YOU CAN HEAL YOUR LIFE. The gist of what I have read so far is that you are supposed to look at yourself in the mirror and tell yourself YOU ARE OK. Not listen to the voice from the past that repeats what you heard ages ago saying,YOU ARE BAD, YOU ARE NO GOOD etc. There is much more to try to learn and to remember. By forgiving yourself, you will be forgiving the ones who might have hurt you. And your body will stop hurting. All this is too simplified and I am eager to get back to the book to learn more. But I tried it this morning. I told myself I am OK. Not You talked too much last night. You should not have monopolized the time of those young people from Colorado. Normally there is guilt. This morning there was bliss. I had a wonderful time at Edna's and Butch's house last night.

The food was delicious and the company was outstanding and the fireworks loud and beautiful. But every year I try to count how many children could have been fed from the cost of that single thriller. Not festive of me, I know. So this year, two dogs and three young people and I stayed inside while the 'rockets blared'. And then Edna had another surprise. She had made Palomas. Egg white and sugar, whipped into a stiff mass, baked. Then strawberries and blueberries and whipped cream. What a finale.

My conscience bothered me, for I had left Edgar, my cat, at home and he was scared from all the noise from the street. I had left the TV on to make him feel less lonesome. And then I let him sleep behind my knees. We got along all night. And I am OK.

Edna and Butch, how can I thank you? You made me so happy. Thank you.

A voice from the past

Marm, how nice to hear from you. I have tried to get in touch with you a couple of times. I called John to get your phone number, wrote it down in my address book. Have called you many times. Either I wrote the number down incorrectly or I called you when you were visiting somewhere in never never land. You have no idea of how much I miss you and your parents.

How did you happen to find me? How much of my blogs have you read? If you went far back you must know all about where my children are and what they are doing. Anna and Jane are in your area at the moment visiting Martha at Santa Cruz. Gilbert and Chris were here for dinner tonight to play Bridge with one of my neighbors. We played bridge on the dinner table and now near midnight I decided to return the computer to its normal place, the end of the table. Then I thought to look to see if there were any messages and when I saw the name Marm I said 'Please let it be Marm. Getting it plugged in properly I had time to think. there could be more than one Marm. But it was the right one. I won't be able to sleep tonight. There are so many memories to sift through before I can go to sleep. I am in the phone book and I would so love to talk to you.

To all my blog friends, it is unfair to get in touch with this wonderful friend this way. I will blog about our past and you too will get to know 'our past history' My day began at 5am, a visit to my eye doctor at 8.30. I have worn the same glasses since 2003. Had wonderful news, she said my macular degeneration is the slowest she has ever seen. One eye had improved since she last checked me. So I lived most of the day in a cloud because of having my eyes dilated. I know my eyes were gorgeous because of the enlarged pupils but I could'nt see them. Still had trouble seeing the cards when we played bridge for it was difficult telling the difference between the red and the black cards. Gilbert was my partner and we won the first rubber and Chris who is such a good player, and her partner won the second rubber. Marm, did you ever learn to play?

My house is now filled with summer

Yesterday I drove to a nursery near the airport to buy 12 red geraniums. Why 12? All 12 would fit in a box I could manage when I got back home. I parked on the street, level with my place. If I had parked in my garage, I would have been forced to make the 7 stairsteps to my level. Probably would have ruined my flimsy shopping cart. Then I walked to my place to get my walker. I felt the seat in said walker would hold the box. It worked. Each pot, which held a primrose was emptied and now holds a red or pink geranium. It looks elegant. Several times during the afternoon I went out to admire the change from late spring to early summer. And when I was ready for a long rest in my recliner four of my favorite 'inmates' strolled up to see the change. While we were there Ohing and Awing up walked the gardener to manipulate the automatic watering system. Rain has been sufficient until now. At five this morning the system worked perfectly.

My favorite baseball team, the Seattle Mariners, are in full force trying to be the team standing in first place when October rolls around. They are having their ups and downs, but it is not impossible to think of them as the winners. Meanwhile we have so many hours watching TV hoping and praying. June 29 a bus from here will take a small number of us to watch a game.