Sunday, December 09, 2018
Hack, hack, hack.
AHCHEW! AHCHEW! AHCHEW!
Drip, drip, drip.
Blow, blow, blow!
Hack, hack, hack.
AHCHEW! AHCHEW! AHCHEW!
Drip, drip, drip.
Blow, blow, blow!
And, occasionally nod off!
If you don't, you will.
I tried every possible tactic to avoid getting THE COLD.
Stayed far away from my sisters who got started with it before Thanksgiving.
Washed my hands way more than usual.
Took Airborne every day for several days.
Mid-week, I started on Zycam, the expensive spray drug which supposedly shortens your cold IF you spray at the first sign of a cold.
Who, the heck knows precisely when the first sign of a cold is going to hit ?????
Imagine wanting to make sure you don't miss that moment, so you turn into a Zycam" concealed container carrier."
You're sitting in a meeting. Suddenly, you feel a sneeze coming on.
Never mind the it could be an allegic reaction to the perfume permeating under your nose after wafting your way from the person next to you.
Suddenly, you sit up at full alert.
Just as everyone is supposed to say "aye" on an important motion, you interrupt the proceedings.
"Okay, got this!" you yell out.
Suddenly, you become the object of a roomful of stares as you pull out that spray bottle which you've been "carrying and concealing" for several days.
Wasting not one second, you stick it inside your mouth, pull a cheek out----spray.
Then, pull the other cheek out---spray.
Lift the upper lip, spray your top gum. BTW: this gets a little messy as some of the spray may miss the target and will dribble down your face.
Next, pull down your bottom lip, spray.
If that isn't enough, then, with your colleagues watching in total amazement, you turn that bottle upside down and spray the roof of your mouth.
That done, you put the bottle back into its pocket, stare straight ahead, swish vigorously inside your mouth for 15 seconds and then swallow.
Finally, you can say "aye."
Then, you can also let everyone in the room know that they're gonna get THE COLD.
And, then, the vote goes down cuz in unison, everyone who's heard about the cold, yells out, "NO!"
Apparently, I miscalculated on my exact first sign cuz my cold-----that I tried so hard not to get----feels very much like it wants to stick around for a while.
After listening to me sneeze, blow and cough for several hours, Bill asked if he could borrow my Zycam.
Well, those folks know how to make a profit cuz everyone's gotta get their OWN Zycam unless they think it's a good idea to stick the same spray bottle inside their mouths that has been operating inside a mouth that has caught the cold.
Plus, I don't think Bill's so convinced that Zycam is gonna insulate him from THE COLD after watching my pre-cold efforts.
After getting well into the second day of my cold (they call it a 'viral cold'), I went down to Yoke's Pharmacy in search of relief.
Fresh off from a week of remembering President George Herbert Walker Bush, I posed a question to the pharmacist.
"Do you have a kind and gentle cold medicine," I began, adding, "one that doesn't make me feel all drugged up?"
After asking about my symptoms, she said Alka Selzer Plus would probably suit me just fine.
That was good news because in my vast history of trying to get over colds, I do remember Alka Selzer with much more fondness than Coricidin and Vicks 44.
I do believe that cold medicines are designer drugs, made in individual fashion to suit individual noseblowers, hackers and sneezers.
Today is third day in for THE COLD. Yesterday the Alka Selzer gave me enough edge in the afternoon to get back some of my desire to do something else besides slouch on the couch.
Later, after watching the Kansas Jay Hawks come back to beat a feisty New Mexico, I took my second batch of "plop, plop, fizz, fizz----oh, what a relief it is," and slept like a baby clear through the night.
Upon awakening this morning, I felt "zesty," almost like a new woman----well, in comparison to yesterday morning when attempting each individual movement from bed to bathroom took extra thought.
This morning's burst of energy now seems to be rather short-lived, just as my sisters had told me the day I finally went to visit them, same day Laurie had sprayed their entire house with Lysol.
I felt relatively safe sitting there in their living room as they told me about each day during the two weeks prior when, thinking they were finally cured, they went to do barn chores, only to return to the house worn out and eager to collapse.
So, I guess the only recourse in this state of sluggishness and slurping is to grin as much as possible and sneak in the projects right after the plop, plop, fizz, fizz portions of the day.
Yesterday's misery was not a total loss.
Willie's Bulldogs won their first game last night (55-29) in Bonners Ferry. It has taken time, patience and learning. Happily, last night a player who had sat on the bench all season with an injury came back and made a significant difference.
I was both amazed and proud of my son when I sent him a note of encouragement a while back after a loss.
First, I wanted to let him know I was very proud watching him coach during that night which had to be total frustration.
He never lost his cool. He kept on calmly coaching and educating along the bench throughout. Toward the end of that game, the lessons learned from the first half started turning into little victories.
He wrote in his response to my note: they're good kids and the best part, he wrote, they want to learn and get better.
Looks like the strategy is working, and it's definitely a page out of life.
Congrats to Willie and to the Bulldogs.
During couch slouch time, I also shed a tear or two, and I know Bill did too as we watched a Home Depot commercial during the Army-Navy game, featuring Sandpoint's Army Sgt. Brandon Adam, recipient of a Smart Home through the Stephen Siller Tunnel to Towers Foundation.
Brandon and his family attended the game, and I must say that both Brandon and my brother Mike (West Point grad) were quite happy with the game's outcome as Army won for the third consecutive year.
All in all, yesterday was a day I don't care to repeat, but it had its good moments, and in the midst of this yucky cold, that is always a good thing.
If I've gotta keep sneezing and coughing, I'm hoping for another day of good moments when the ZAGS (No. 1) take on the Tennessee Volunteers (No. 7) in Phoenix on ESPN at noon PST.
Bet I don't nod off during that one!
GO, ZAGS! Let's make it 10-0.
Saturday, December 08, 2018
|Not So Plain GLASS by Ronald Seider of Moyie Springs.|
Slowly but surely, I'm putzing along on writing and sending out my Christmas cards.
With another little stack completed yesterday afternoon, I decided to put them in the mail. Knowing the little post offices where I usually go were closed, I drove to the Bonner Mall where there's a blue box near Staples.
The mall parking lot was packed.
"What could this be?" I thought to myself.
Then, I remembered days gone by on a December weekend when my mother and I would set up tables with displays of her artwork and my books and then sit for three days at the annual mall craft sale.
Mother and enjoyed lots of laughs, occasionally brisk sales and good times with potential customers strolling through, hoping to find stocking stuffers or just the perfect present for a friend or family member.
Mother's cards were always popular, and I still hear story after story from folks who took them home, did not give them away. Instead, many framed them and kept a collection in their homes.
So, the moment I realized it was mall craft-sale time, a tinge of nostalgia took over as did a need to park, walk inside and see what happens these days at the sale.
I ended up spending about 45 minutes strolling through the area, surveying the tables to see what looked interesting.
My route took me among soaps, glass fusion, dolls, an array of knitted and crocheted items, stained glass, various levels of decorated wreaths, even a set of lovely barn paintings closely resembling my mother's.
This experience was almost immediately enhanced by the rich and soothing voice of a cowboy singing and playing the guitar inside the spot where my daughter Annie once worked for Nancy Meyer at Sport Tees.
This crooner reminded me a bit of Marty Robbins, one of our family's favorites, especially my dad's.
So, memory lane was truly intensifying quickly, and when I spotted (without my glasses) Terri and Phil Oppermann seated at a table with their personal creations, 'twas old home week, for sure.
Terri and Phil attended my mother's 85th birthday party a while back.
Terri and I have experienced some interesting horse-related adventures over the past 50 years or so, including my nervous moment when a Canadian mountie stopped me south of Calgary and told me "we frown on speeders here in the province."
After scaring the beejeebers out of me while Terri sat in the passenger side enjoying a good chuckle, we moved on to Calgary and the Canadian National Arabian Show where we were to help out the Balch family who were showing a horse at the Nationals.
We slept in a stall, and the vivid memories of that trip did not end with Marianne's brush with the Mounties.
Early in the morning, I felt the need to leave my sleeping bag and head to the lavatory. As I stepped out of the box stall, I could not believe my eyes.
There stood entertainer Wayne Newton, talking to his trainer outside a barn door where Mr. Newton's horses were staying.
I saw the sight, refocused to make sure I was really seeing what I was seeing and then stepped back inside the barn door.
"Terri, Wayne Newton's out there," I whispered, nudging her to wake up.
For some reason Terri didn't seem nearly as impressed that moment as she had earlier when the Mountie was lecturing me alongside the roadway.
I think Terri went back to sleep, and, uncharacteristically for me, I simply went to the bathroom without walking up to Mr. Newton, whose trainer later showed the national champion stallion at the show.
So, yes, Terri and I have many a good memory through our years as family friends. Her hubby Phil, a forester and quite the wooden toy crafter, also knows Bill. Today I'll probably head back to the craft sale for one of Terri's wreaths.
By the way, if you ever want a gorgeous arrangement of flowers for a very reasonable price, look up A Floral Rainbow. Terri's talent with flowers is astounding.
After visiting with Terri and Phil and the crooner whose name is Chuck Wasileski and who sings occasionally at the Farmhouse Silo Kitchen Restaurant AND who does paint cards that look a lot like my mother's, I moved on with a bit more speed.
Just as I was leaving, though, I stopped at Barbara Gustafson's table where her hubby's crafts with horse shoes and her beautiful jewelry and scarves are all exquisite.
Turns out, as we talked, I did know Barbara a long time ago when I was still teaching at Sandpoint High. She worked there for a time, and she also spent a few years at Farmin-Stidwell.
When she mentioned the name Bob Posey, I suddenly felt a hint of recognition. Bob, at the time, was her son-in-law and our school parking lot supervisor, among other duties.
It was fun to catch up on Bob and to learn that his son/Barbara's grandson graduated from Boise State and now works at a kindergarten teacher.
As I walked out the door, I heard someone call my name.
Apologetically, I announced, "I don't have my glasses on," which is becoming a new and common phenomenon for me whenever I go into stores and people whom I used to recognize with clarity are now blurry figures until I'm almost looking into their face.
This person happened to be a former student, Kelli Whitman, who, often with her sister Carrie, sells soaps and accessories at the craft sale.
I think I like that soap dish in the photo and could maybe use several for all the trinkets that lay strewn around our house.
Anyway, I enjoyed Memory Lane at the craft sale. Once again, the event gave me a nice feeling about some wonderful times spent with my mother.
The sale continues today and tomorrow, with today's opening at 10 a.m.
I do believe other entertainers will join Chuck throughout each day. Definitely a festive happening with some fun gift ideas and good peeps.
UPDATE: In the "this just in," I just saw the following on Facebook: Checkout the Adam crew on CBS today for the Army Navy game!! #GoArmy! #T2T.
That would be our Sgt. Brandon Adam, a 2003 Sandpoint High School graduate and his adorable family.
That's all I know, but whatever it is, it will be fun to see this remarkable American hero.
|Phil Opperman and Terri Greene Opperman.|
|Glass fusion by artist SL Yeager.|
|Kelli Whitman, always a regular at the mall craft sale.|
Friday, December 07, 2018
Though I was far from alive when this date Dec. 7, 1941, became known as a Day of Infamy, I know and appreciate from being a child of the "Greatest Generation" its impact on that generation and our world.
Our family visited the site of the Pearl Harbor attack a few years back, and I never apologize for reposting some of the photos taken that day.
These scenes seem especially poignant during this week when we, as a nation, watched the stirring and inspiring sequence of formal events celebrating our 41st President of the United States George Herbert Walker Bush.
The music, the tears, the spoken remembrances, the precision of military traditions----all served as reminders of a good and gentle and thoughtful man and of the great nation to which he devoted his life.
Often, while watching the various events, I could not help but think of my own parents, to whom we have said good bye and whom we miss so dearly.
I also thought of the generation as a whole and all its contributions to the nation in which we were born.
I thought of how our generation grew up in the United States of America seldom feeling anything but pride and appreciation for the positive environment this Greatest Generation prepared for us.
They did a magnificent job in setting the scene for our lives, and as we watch the last of this great generation fade from this Earth, it seems past time that we take from the examples set by George Herbert Walker Bush and his contemporaries.
It's a sad time, and it's a disturbing time for America.
After this week of poignant and inspiring reminders of what this nation has been in our eyes for most of our lives and what it could continue to be, let's pray that a week such as this one brings on a hopeful time.
As one television commentator so eloquently stated, seeing the events of this past week, "just makes you want to be a better person."
In one of his speeches, George Herbert Walker Bush coined the idea of 10,000 points of light. May we, as Americans take inspiration from President Bush's concept.
May we continue to do good works as individuals in our respective communities, and more importantly, may individuals with personal qualities of leadership, decency and principled conviction step to the plate, stand up for what is right and LEAD us into a better time.
Who knows? The collective effect of the citizenry and its leaders "being better people" could launch an even greater generation where we become an even better nation.
What a tribute that effort could be to those who came before us and sacrificed so much in our behalf!
And, what a gift we could leave for the generations who follow us!
Meanwhile, on the weather front, we still continue to enjoy what I consider the "ideal winter." I love seeing the snow up in the mountains and dry ground below.
It's fun to drive somewhere else to see the snow.
I know snow is inevitable and needed down here in the valley, but it's still pretty nice to go outside in my tennis shoes rather than heavy, cumbersome boots to do the chores.
So, I'm not complaining. We'll definitely pay our dues later.
Thursday, December 06, 2018
Readers can do the work today.
This photo was sent to me a few days ago with a request to identify as many people as possible.
So, I did my guessing and came up with most of them. Still, a few remain unidentified to both the senders and to me.
So, help us out.
Using the comment option, tell us what you know and who you know in the photos.
Remember to consider the who, when, where, why aspects of the image.
In the photo directly below, what were some of the crowd watching and what were others talking about?
Down Memory Lane . . . .
As for the photos below, they're just taken at random from my photo library. All represent some fun moments and, of course, some great peeps, some still with us, some not.
If you care to comment on any of them, feel free to do so.
I'll post all comments received under their respective photos, and you can check back tomorrow.
|Larry Jeffres and ???? at ground breaking for the Byway.|
|The late and great Maggie Becker, ????, Edie McCormick, Frances Crandell at Byway ground breaking.|
|Kaleb Keaton sustains himself at Byway ground breaking.|
|Susan Kiebert, Important Man, Mark Lockwood.|
|Former Mayor, the late Marsha Olgilvie with Girl Scouts celebrating the organization's 100 years.|
|My cousin Patti (right) with Elizabeth Smart who spoke at a Youth Eastside Services fundraiser in Seattle. Patti is executive director of the organization.|
|Little brother Jim and our Mother.|
|Sister Laurie and brother Jim on Woodside Road for a spring bike ride.|
|Quilter and Wood family matriarch Virginia Wood with her oldest granddaughter Jody Russell.|
At the time, Virginia had crafted quilts for all of her granddaughters.
|Suzanne Hugenin Haynes at her bridal shower reading from a card created by my mother.|
|Sandpoint pizza queen Carolyn of Second Avenue Pizza at a bridal shower.|
|Wade and Tawnya Brown Dewey. Brother and sister and both former students at Wade's class reunion.|
|Debbie and me and Bigfoot on a visit to Canada.|
|Two beloved Women of Wisdom and matriarchs, Verna Mae Davis and the late Jane Evans.|
|Farm tour folks watching Randy Curless and his Border Collies herd sheep.|
|Old friends, most connected with teaching: Pam McDonald, Pam Eimers, Marianne, Marian Whitfield, Bill McDonald, B.J. Biddle, Brian, Barb and Betsy Walker.|
|Debbie, brother Mike, his wife Mary with daughters Laura and Maureen at a basketball game.|
|Hubby Bill and Outlaw buddy Rose Marie Thompson.|
|Grand nephew Jacob, now a junior at Coeur d'Alene Charter School.|
|Longtime and dear friend Glory Whittaker.|
|Daughter Annie brings the rolls.|
|Sisters Barbara and Laurie with their boot vases.|
|Debbie just can't get enough of that Bigfoot, nor can Willie.|
|Marlo, CB's friend.|