A Good Day

 

Hats off to my sister Laurie.  

Many who are connected with her on Facebook have received the gift of her talents for special occasions. 

Yesterday's offerings included my brother Kevin and his wife Joyce, along with Bill and me, as we celebrated our wedding anniversaries. 

Laurie has studied and practiced with Artificial Intelligence and appears to have mastered the tools and techniques to create beautiful and realistic images of people, horses, etc. 

What a nice gift to enjoy and to treasure forever! 

Thank you, Laurie. 

Adding to yesterday's anniversary fun,  Ann flagged us down to wish us a Happy Anniversary as we walked past the B's Beacon Restaurant at the Hope Hotel. 

She had spotted us as we left our car and walked just down the street to the Old Ice House Pizzeria. 

She was having dinner with her husband, and, like us, was celebrating 52 years of marriage. 

I met Ann for the first time fairly recently, and we have connected a few times since then.  It's been fun, and I hope you had a wonderful anniversary, Ann. 

Bliss:  sitting on the deck of Ice House Pizzeria at Hope, Idaho, enjoying a brew and an incomparable view. 

💙💚💛💜💙💚💛💜

I had made up my mind. 

Bill and I would go to Old Ice House Pizzeria for our anniversary dinner. 

If I paid the consequences, so be it.  Special occasions deserve special attention.

We had celebrated our anniversary there a few times before, but this occasion was different.  

I had not eaten pizza at Ice House for almost two years, and I missed it. 

Enter my friend Pam who spent time at the Lovestead last week.  During our visits, we talked about the common woes of our stomach/gut problems. 

Pam has discovered fairly recently that she is allergic to dairy products. 

As long as I've known her (about 50 years), she has been what I would consider an ultimate foodie. 

Her career involved teaching home economics, organizing food and special dishes for photography at Sunset Magazine and other similar situations. 

She has taken cooking classes in Greece and other countries of the world.

Therefore, imagining Pam having to cut back her food choices is pretty inconceivable. 

Our visit gave me an opportunity to pick her brain. 

Today I'm happy to report that some lactose enzyme pills she gave me went along with us to Icehouse last evening.  

I ordered a small barbecued chicken pizza.  Shortly before taking my first bite, I downed three of the Superpowered Lactase pills.

I enjoyed my pizza and Bodi beer and especially enjoyed the relaxing setting on the deck overlooking Lake Pend Oreille. 

The true test would come afterward with a sudden urgency or none at all. 

Happily, "none at all" won out.  I was able to enjoy my anniversary dinner with my husband without racing to a restroom. 

So far, today I'm feeling okay. 

We'll see, as the day goes on, if this new tactic is a winner and if, with help of this enzyme, I might be able to strike out again on occasion, trying something besides my current diet of chicken, eggs or peanut butter. 

It's been quite a journey since my bout with c.diff and with the subsequent knowledge that I have collagenous colitis. So, this new possibility of expanding my food enjoyment is very exciting. 

The best part:  an anniversary dinner spent at one of our favorite places and, so far, no consequences. 

The anniversary day included another feel-good story to go along with the pain I've been feeling in my left ankle for the past month. 

I had called a couple of weeks ago, hoping for an appointment to see  Dr. Brent Leedle, our orthopedic specialist.  I was then told that he was soon retiring and that if he could see me, I would get a call. 

The call never came, and that was okay because the days since then have been very busy. Yesterday, however, with the pain not offering to go away, I called again. 

The stars lined up.  

If I could make it down to the Bonner General Orthopedics, Dr. Leedle would see me. 

He has two weeks left before retirement, and since he's not scheduling any more surgeries, he had an opening. 

I had about 45 minutes to get there.  Overjoyed to have the appointment, I even arrived early. 

After reading a summary of my symptoms and knowing that walking is a major part of my day here on the farm, Dr. Leedle wasted no time giving me a diagnosis:  Posterior Tibial Tendonitis.

It's pain on the inside of the ankle and it's common in older women who walk a lot and who are prone to high blood pressure. If not treated, the pain continues and one's arches can eventually collapse.   

I told Dr. Leedle that the only time I have high blood pressure is when I go to doctors' offices.  Happily, that statement has proved true, thanks to the in-home monitoring assignments, Paige, my general provider, has given me. 

After seeing an X-ray, which revealed no other problems, Dr. Leedle gave me a prescription to get fitted for orthodics, which will protect and help the tendon heal. 

I walked out of that office, thrilled with the efficiency of the staff and the doctor AND the knowledge that something non invasive (either meds or surgery) can be done. 

I share these stories on the blog, not to get attention or sympathy but to bring attention for others who may have problems similar to mine.  

I have learned over the past few years how important it is to not let these things go and especially to avoid a lot of misery by simply going to the doctor and finding out. 

My medical providers have helped me through this stage of age much more than they'll ever know, and I so appreciate their knowledge and guidance. 

So, all in all, yesterday was a great day.  

Thanks to my friend Pam, I can now look forward to the possibility of eating a few fun foods again and thanks to Dr. Leedle, I can get that ankle ready to take on miles and miles ahead. 

It's all good. 

It's a LOVEly Day

52 Years for Ma and Pa Love

It was a hot June day (95 degrees) when Bill and I, guided by Fr. M. John O'Donovan, exchanged our wedding vows at St. Joseph's Catholic Church in Sandpoint on June 15, 1974.  

 

That day also marked my brother Kevin and his wife Joyce's sixth anniversary.  So, do the math:  they've been married 58 years.  Sending them congratulations on this day. 

Chris Pietsch, a former student who has since worked as a photographer for the Eugene Register Guard in Oregon for years, brought his camera for his first official photography gig. 

He took the wedding photos, and a few years later, after we had settled into our 10-acre farm on Great Northern Road with that big beautiful red barn and where our kids Willie and Annie grew up, Chris came by for a visit and set up the photo above. 

I must confess that the photo has been AI edited this morning in order to add color to the original black and white, taken by Chris. 

Chris still takes photos of us on his visits, and, lots of gray hairs later, we're still plugging along after 52 years of adventures and respect and love for each other.

Our kids are grown and doing well. We have since moved from the Great Northern Road farm to our beloved Lovestead here in Selle.  

We are blessed to have each other, to be in relatively good health for oldsters and to have accumulated more than half a century of meaningful and treasured memories. 

We're aren't exactly a Hollywood couple; in our unique way, we're much better than that in the "things that count" department. 

Happy Anniversary, Bill. 

Thanks to the wood splitter, Bill's winter supply is accumulating faster than usual. 

I'm calling these our "anniversary poppies."  

They popped out overnight and there are many more to come. 

Nice to see them appear in all their beauty on this day. 

Can't believe your eyes?

Neither can this expert who is paid to have his eyes distinguish between true or fake. 

from the New York Times Morning Newsletter

Hany Farid, the world’s leading expert in spotting deepfake images and video on the Internet, stopped trusting his own eyes.

Farid spends hours and hours on this work: watching videos, geolocating, seeking inconsistencies, doing math. It used to be that he was proud to discover the rare fake in a world of reality. Now it’s the opposite. And the deepfakes are slowly breaking him, Eli observed:

“I miss the days when it was a grainy video of a shark swimming up the street,” Farid said one night, as he sat on the back deck of his house with his wife, Emily Cooper. He put down his phone and poured a whiskey. “The technology is getting so good. It takes me to a dark place.”

“Because you can’t tell just by looking anymore?” Cooper asked.

“Because nobody can,” Farid said. “I don’t trust anything. Every image I see, I’m drawing lines for shadows and doing geometry in my head, trying to figure out what I’m looking at. It’s over. Within a year or two, our whole visual system will be utterly useless.”

“And then what? You give up? You retire?”

“I don’t know,” he said.

This segment offers something rather scary to think about. How many of us have already fallen for something that appears real but is really fake?

I'm sure I'm not the only one who worries about what our world is becoming and how we'll be able function on a day-to-day basis when we become aware that we can't believe anything we see or hear. 

Sounds like a potential absolute to be reckoned with.  If the experts are doubting themselves, whom can we trust to guide us?

While I was mowing lawn,  Bill was using the brush hog to mow some trails through the woods. 

The tall grass is not only wet in the morning, but it's also not always easy for enjoying a walk. 

A Summer Sunday

It truly feels like summer out there this morning. 

Not only has the weather improved, but hints of upcoming summer visitors, local happenings, lovely weather and all the sports events like NBA Finals and World Cup Soccer seem to be coming together to remind us of these months of relative leisure. 

Actually, there's never a lot of leisure involved with summer, but we can pretend.

Plus, witnessing great wins like the Knicks had last night and the USA soccer team the night before just adds some extra adrenalin to our outlook. 

Today we also celebrate my oldest brother Mike's 82nd birthday.  

He has lived an impressive life, doing his darndest to do the right things and to be a good example for others to emulate. 

He has succeeded. 

Many of us Americans still celebrate such things, and that's what we'll do today in his honor.  

Happy Birthday to Mike, the oldest of the siblings and the oldest of all the Brown cousins. 

Keep up the good work with your life and your observations on the unfolding events of history in this country. 

We appreciate your voice, and we appreciate you. 

I know that it seems almost cliche to regular blog reader when I identify people as former students, but it's hard not to do when you taught 4,500 of them in your hometown, including this pair. 

Jeralyn was reading a speech she had written 13 years ago about Susan Bristow, when Susan was honored as a local Woman of Wisdom.

The occasion for this reading of the speech was Susan's celebration of life gathering at Sagle Senior Center.  

Susan's son Kevin acted as emcee for the remembrance event. 

Jeralyn loved the word "homespun" to describe Susan, who had grown up in Bonner County, lived on farms, cooked and served as a classroom aide at Sagle School.  She also grew a beautiful garden every year, including gorgeous flowers.  Susan was a familiar face at the flower exhibits each year at the Bonner County Fair. 

As Kevin said, all she would have wanted would be for people to gather and visit, so that's what a packed house did yesterday. 

Oodles of familiar faces, and lots of them gathered around Susan's husband of 63 years, Garry (pictured below). 

I think Susan would have approved of the event in her own "homespun" way. 

I love the discovery moments of watering every morning. 

Seems like magic that suddenly tomatoes are appearing on the vines. 

I can't wait for the watering session when I see all those big poppies burst open in their north lawn flower bed. 

There is a certain sadness to go along with the watering discoveries---once magnificent blossoms of gorgeous columbine or lupine or iris are deteriorating and falling from the plants. 

They've put on an amazing show this year, and I'm sad to see them go but excited to see what appears each new day on the rose bushes and bean plants, etc. 

Speaking of discoveries, yesterday while watering, I was able to verify that a chickadee is, indeed, inhabiting one of the garden bird houses. 

I've seen birds pop in and out of the hole over the past few weeks, but yesterday I was able to observe the chickadee land on the garden fence and slowly make its way to the bird house with an edible in its beak. 

Eventually, it entered, stayed for a few seconds and then exited to fly off for some more food for what I assume are the babies. 

Fun stuff to watch. 

Well, on this summer Sunday, I'll wish everyone a great day and move on outside to enjoy all that unfolds today. 

Summer time and the livin' ain't that easy, but it's fun. 

Happy Sunday. 

Saturday Slight

 

That storm which came up yesterday afternoon was a total surprise to me. 

I had shed a couple of layers to go to town for my hair appointment, thinking it would be a lot warmer in town than out in Selle. 

And, of course, the sun would be shining and promoting more warmth. 

Crazy me. 

I looked out the window when Sally was about two thirds finished with my hair and saw the black clouds off to the northeast. 

By the time I had left the salon and walked out to my car, the wind was blowing and the temperature had gone down considerably. 

We received rain, lightning, thunder and wind for the next couple of hours. 

Today is starting off just like yesterday, only with fewer clouds in the sky.  

Maybe shedding the layers will work today but it was certainly not a great idea yesterday. 

Catchy brand name for a alcoholic combination.  

This morning marked my first introduction to Moscow Mule. 

While walking out to get the paper, I picked up the can from just outside our yard. 

It had been flung there from the road over night. 

"Better wash your hands when you get inside," I thought, and then I thought of something else. 

Not only would there be germs that could give me diseases on that can but there's also DNA from the lips of said can flinger.  

Then, my mind started spinning.  

What if every single person in America had to submit a DNA sample at a certain age, so it could be on file just in case any of those persons ever happened to do something wrong. 

If everyone's DNA were on file, maybe then a system could evolve where every can or bottle of booze that gets thrown out a vehicle window onto roadsides could be checked for DNA. 

And, when the guilty party is identified, they could receive a hefty fine or maybe even a community service sentence of picking up other creeps' cans or bottles. 

If a system like that were possible, it's also possible that guilty parties who litter our planet might think twice before throwing a can or bottle out the window.

Think of what a cleaner earth this would be along with teaching some responsibility and consequences for actions. 

Just a thought that followed this morning's cuss words and name calling when I had to pick up someone else's garbage. 

from today's New York Times newsletter . . . 

My friend Daniel, frustrated with the way he and everyone he knows turn to their phones when they forget the name of a movie or book, created a rule: When you’re in a group of people, if it’s not essential to the progression of the conversation, don’t look it up. 

It’s uncomfortable to sit with the name of that actor on the tip of your tongue, but you’ll get it eventually. 

Let your memory do its thing. That “irritable reaching” is often for our devices, the source of all answers and all distraction.

****

This very scenario happened to me the other night while Pam, Bill and I were visiting in the living room.  

We were talking about concerts and old people. 

In Pam's case, she mentioned having a desire to attend concerts featuring famous names who are growing old like Bob Dylan and Mick Jagger before they die.  

My contribution to the conversation involved the concert we attended in Dublin last fall.  It featured a group Willie and Debbie had seen in Missoula.

There were many aspects of that evening that will always stand out, especially Bill becoming new best friends with the lead singer's dad as the two spent some time standing next to each other against the wall rather than sitting. 

I sat the whole time after being thrilled to learn at the door that the concert in National Stadium was actually an indoor event. 

And, since I sat in an upper area, I had time to scope out the crowd and eventually to conclude that I may have been the oldest attendee there. 

The age span, however, did not detract from my enjoyment of the band.  

It was at this very point in my story with Pam that I tried to grab from my brain the name of another rather famous band  for comparison to this band called CAAMP. 

The name was there but lost somewhere in some dark cavern of my brain.  

I could even come up with the rhythm associated with sounding out the name but nothing tangible which would give Pam an idea of how the band sounded.

I did not cheat and go to my cell phone.  

"Well, it's a really good British group," I said, finally giving in to the fact that the name was NOT going to slide off my tongue with ease during that particular conversation. 

At times through the rest of our conversation, however, I could almost feel the name ready to leap out of my mouth but no luck that night. 

The next morning, still trying in vain to come up with that name, I finally grabbed my phone and looked up British bands, thinking surely this one was good enough to make the main list. 

I had to scroll a while past the Beatles, Rolling Stones, Queen and Pink Floyd, but in what appeared to be the second tier, I spotted the name. 

Of course, how could anyone forget Mumford and Sons!!!

The next morning, while visiting with Pam at the kitchen island, I sensed a good spot to interject and without warning, announced "Mumford and Sons, that's the name of the band." 

As I knew she would, Pam concurred that the band in Dublin must be good if they resembled Mumford and sons. 

I guess I followed the correct protocol suggested above and did not pull out the phone.  That's not to say that I did not use it as a reference a few other times in our visit. 

These incidents of losing of vital information in our brains tied in with another problem that arose this morning when I began to transfer photos from my phone to my laptop computer. 

"Not enough disc space," the window which popped onto the screen said. I tried again, and the photo went through. 

So, of course, I knew it had to be a glitch. Well, that was not to be because after letting that one photo go on its way, the phone had put up a complete road block. 

I looked at the my settings, and sure enough with the gazillions of photos I take, the disc was full and suggestions of how and what to delete showed up in the settings. 

I was able to delete a few things and then get on with this morning's blog preparation, but it occurs to me that I may have to put in some time doing some major deleting to avoid such road blocks in the future. 

That incident brought to mind the fact that our minds probably go through the same troubles as the disc space on our phones and computers. 

And, so I'm wondering if, in addition to the DNA samples helping keep a cleaner environment, someone could come up with a good tool for us to just point at our heads and zap all the unnecessary stuff from our brain. 

If that could be done, I bet I would not have had to use my iPhone to remember the name Mumford and Sons. 

Something to think about---that is, if we've still got the space left in our minds to think. 

On that note, my brain actually feels empty at the moment, so Happy Saturday.