Manorisms

WORTH FORWARDING

2012-02-02T11:29:00.000-08:00

What brave and honorable people the Japanese are to have produced this emotional thank-you for the international assistance extended to their suffering country.

Didn't hear of lot of outcry from the people of Japan following this tragedy. Pretty classy people to put this out. Worth viewing. Never heard of any country doing this.......

A ‘Thank you’ from Japan ……

Click <http://www.youtube.com/watch_popup?v=SS-sWdAQsYg&vq=medium> Here

LET'S SHOP!

2012-02-01T07:37:00.000-08:00

IF YOU PLAN CAREFULLY, you don't have to leave the Manor to go shopping. The Manor store is open 2 mornings a week, Tuesdays and Saturdays from 9:30 until 11. The stock is interesting and understandably geared to the geriatric set. I'm much more drawn to the snacks in the lower right than in the assortment of incontinence products at the upper left. I've taken advantage of the instant coffee and peanut butter and am a big consumer of Kleenex products.

Martha and Irene were volunteering the day we used our camera. 35 years ago we met Martha on a European cruise arranged by our church, so she's known Tim from the time he was 14 and now enjoys seeing him when he visits at age 49.

They have an efficient system, whereby one writes up the purchases and the other takes the money and bags the items.

The selection of cards is good and amazingly reasonable in price. When I started my retail career, greeting cards averaged 25¢ and 35¢ in price and nowadays $2.99 isn't shocking to most folks. The Manor's cards are mostly $1 which makes it affordable to slip one under the door when a resident has a birthday, which is the custom here. Come to think of it, that's a good form of exercise, bending and retrieving on one day of the year.

I think I cornered the market on one of their selections recently. The front showed a drawing of a cowboy holding a gun and the words "ANOTHER YEAR" and on the inside were the words, "SHOT TO HELL". It struck my funny bone and was good for men to boot.

"We know we're getting old when the only thing we want for our birthday is not to be reminded of it." ~Author Unknown

INFUSION DAY

2012-01-31T13:50:00.000-08:00

TODAY WAS MY INFUSION DAY. Out the door by 8, into the chilly morning and then it's just a 3 mile drive to the oncologist's. Flavio, the ever-present drawer of blood was serving jury duty this morning, so I'll have to return next week for that portion of the treatment.

We're there for over 90 minutes for a 5 minute procedure so I always take something to read. Today I plowed through a waiting room copy of "Vanity Fair" and read a whole, long article on Sarah Palin before checking the date and I found I was reading a 2009 edition. Oh, well. It was a revealing article. Mr. Bob is more than happy to snooze during the time that we're there.

When my sight blurs from reading, I turn to picture taking and our new iPhone camera has a feature whereby we can turn the lens around and become ashamedly self-centered as seen here...............................

Mr. Bob was being silly one day recently and came up with this self portrait...................

Remember what we said? We'll get through this but we won't ever look the same. Maybe this is what it means.

THE FEAST

2012-01-30T08:40:00.000-08:00

NEARLY EVERY MONTH a champagne brunch is offered at the Manor. Guests are invited.....people who might someday consider moving into this facility. I'm sure a lot of people come just to take advantage of one of the finest spreads in town with no intention whatsoever of becoming a resident in the future. We, ourselves, attended many times, ahead of making the move, but we knew this would be our future home. Nevertheless, I'm a little embarrassed now to think of how often we took advantage of it.

This is the only picture we took yesterday of it, but the presentation of the shrimp was impressive. The frozen marble slab is put on ice thus keeping the shrimp cold and fresh. Did you ever hear that when we buy shrimp we shouldn't even stop to talk to a neighbor on the way home to get the shellfish into an ice box?

I wish I could begin to list all the items on the menu, but I'll forget at least half of them. Bagels and lox, salads, fresh fruit platters (no tired fruit, ever, at the Manor) a waffle and omelet station, bacon, sausage, vegetables, potato pancakes with sour cream and applesauce, chicken marsala, lamb chops, a carving station for prime rib, the works! Champagne, Mimosas, sparkling cider, plus a groaning dessert table full of pastries.

What I love about it here, is that food is brought out in small batches and replenished often, thus providing utter freshness rather than the usual buffet fare which wilts as time goes on.

We eat too much and then wonder of wonders, report back in 4 hours for supper. It's a good life!

*"Oh, my dear, it's a buffet. I have chicken a la king. I have cold turkey. I have hot rolls. I have cold ham. I have a big watermelon, all filled with fresh fruit.”*
Perle Mesta

WEEKEND MISCELLANEA

2012-01-29T08:43:00.000-08:00

A DOZEN UNRELATED photos for you this morning, a way to reduce the cache of pictures waiting in the wings.

Headed somewhere with Diane and Roger, when Mr. Bob still had his license to drive.

This place was never open, but every time we were in Alameda, it intrigued me. I love small.

Nothing this good can be considered junk food.

Sometimes we take our slice of pie home, but it's always included somehow.

I wonder why I find this so much preferable to "Be strong", but I do.

Diane and Roger waiting for us to go to Sunday breakfast. We find that a friendship flourishes with pre-arranged meetings.

A back view of the Manor. We live in the "high rise" behind the lit part of the building.

We went to a culinary school in New Orleans where we were told, "If you're cooking electric, there's only one thing to do.........move."
Unrelated to New Orleans, I've found no better recipe for chicken wings and I miss being able to produce them.

A view from the hospital window of Susan indulging in a very hard-to-break habit.

The cousins in a rare get-together.

Bob, the Bear and Mr. Bob on Hallowe'en.

Those were the days, my friends, when at least we were unaware that we were sick.

BUS STOPS

2012-01-28T10:25:00.000-08:00

AS A PASSENGER I thrived (or did I throve?) on taking pictures of people at bus stops as we drove past. No more, now that I occupy the driver's seat. These are just a few from my collection, nothing to brag about, but a slice of life that I find interesting.

I've not used public transportation much myself and when I have, it's always accompanied by worry that I won't have the right change and the driver might have to bark at me. I've seen it happen.

We've ridden atop a double-decker bus in the heart of London and on various tour buses in our travels, which doesn't quite count.

This stop is on an island in Montrose. Beyond the bridge you can see the hospital we've been frequenting.

I find the structures interesting and the benches and even the ads, and of course the people waiting for their rides.

I find it a poignant sight to see someone running for a bus that has just pulled away from the curb. It's a good test of how compassionate the driver is.

Sedentary soul that I am, I guess I just like to see people on the move or in the midst of going somewhere.

From our apartment windows, if I look far, far away I can see 2 different freeways against a background of the mountains and the ant-like stream of cars and trucks signify travel even if it may simply be a routine commute.

"I'd rather go by bus."

Prince Charles

MY PLAYMATE

2012-01-27T09:11:00.000-08:00

WHERE HAS HE GONE? We weren't silly all the time in the 60 years we've known each other, but we had a lot of laughing moments together. Mr. Bob has a playful side that is utterly delightful. Everybody who gets to see it is instantly charmed. It's not the "lampshade on the head" sort of humor, but his very own brand that I don't know quite how to describe. By nature, he's a quiet man and when his impish quality peeps out it's a bit of a surprise and very endearing.

The next 3 pictures show him playing with Owen.

The playful nature still shows once in a while when we're with other people, so I know it's still there, but for the past 8 months since cancer has invaded our lives, there've been no mischievous moments at home. And I miss that, terribly. It seems that dealing with various combinations of chemotherapy and radiation saps our combined strength and most often results in irritation, anger, irk as we ruffle each other's feathers. And we live in very small quarters; there's only one other room to storm into when it gets to be too much. My daughter tells me that what we're going through is monumental and staggering, with two of us battling the same disease. It's a good thing we're living in a retirement community where there's frequent opportunity to put on our happy faces and interact with other people.

I fervently hope this is a temporary condition and worry a little that a year is plenty long to form new habits, even bad ones. Keeping this web log is a wonderful outlet for me. Television and napping seem to be Mr. Bob's salvation. As my friend's mother says, "We'll get through this, but we won't ever look the same."

"Anyone can be passionate, but it takes real lovers to be silly."

~Rose Franken

IT'S ABOUT TIME

2012-01-26T07:10:00.000-08:00

I MAY HAVE BITTEN OFF more than I can chew in accepting the position of editor of the Manor newsletter.
My style is far different than that of the previous editor's, which of course is as it should be. But at the stage of life that we find ourselves here, there can be great resistance to change. I'm feeling my way, hoping there won't be too many complaints. Either I'm being shielded from them, or there haven't been any about the first month I took the position. So here is my column for February's newsletter which won't be slipped under our doors until next Tuesday night.

IT’S ABOUT TIME

“It is familiarity with life that makes time speed quickly. When every day is a step in the unknown........as for children......the days are long with the gathering of experience.”

George Gissing

“Never, never again

This moment, never, those slow

ripples across smooth water,

Never again these clouds white and gray....

The sun that rose from the sea this morning will never return for the broadcast light that

brightens the leaves and glances on water will travel tonight on its long journey, out of the universe, never this sun, this world, and never again this watcher.”

Kathleen Raine

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

Where in the world does the time go? I thought, when I queried some residents about it that some would report that time passes slowly for them, but to a person, everyone I asked gave some version of fast..... from Jeanne G’s ”It goes rapidly”, to Betty K: “It passes quickly because I stay involved with volunteer activities.” and, Jeanne K’s “Time goes faster and faster..... so many things I plan to do. One of the problems is that I’m not fast anymore.” Jim H. said, “It just zips by.......even when I was confined to my room for months with a bad case of the shingles.” Mr. Bob’s favorite phrase to Jane is “Hurry, every chance you get.” and he feels that time goes extremely fast.

My guess is that in the Health Center time passes more slowly for the patients. In my experience, time has crawled when I’ve been ill with something as serious as the flu. Then time simply crawls. I remember sleeping and sleeping some more and looking at the clock and 4 minutes had passed.

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

Someone once observed that life is like a roll of toilet paper. The closer it gets to the end, the faster it goes.

ººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººº

What do you get when you cross a kangaroo with a calendar?

A leap year!

Did you realize that February this year brings us an extra day.......a whole 24 hours that we didn’t have last year? How are you going to use yours?

ºººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººº

“Begin doing what you want to do now. We are not living in eternity. We have only this moment,sparkling like a star in our hand...... And melting like a snowflake.”

Marie Beyon Ray

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

Not included in the newsletter is this question which I pose to you.

Are you an "over" or an "under" in the great debate about toilet tissue? At our house, we're "over" people.

GUNG HEY FAT CHOY

2012-01-23T11:11:00.000-08:00

YEAR OF THE DRAGON

DO’s & DON'Ts on NEW YEAR’s DAY:

- Greet others with "Gung Hey Fat Choy" which means "Wishing You Prosperity and Wealth".

- Give two lee see’s to each child. Because happiness comes in two’s, do not just give one. This is your way of passing good luck to the next generation. Business owners also givelee see’s to employees and associates.

- Wear brand new clothes - preferably in red. Children should wear new clothes and new shoes.

- Don’t wash your hair.

- Don’t sweep the floor.

- Don’t greet people who are in mourning.

- Don’t drop your chopsticks.

- Don’t say the number ‘four’ (Chinese homonym for death) or mention death.

- Don’t borrow or lend money.

As you prepare for this important holiday, think of the changes you want to make in your life ... perhaps spend more time with your family, reduce your credit card debts or pursue a new interest. Gung Hey Fat Choy ... and Happy New Year!

I always feel a little like an impostor when I try to take part in Chinese traditions, reading up on them ahead of time. Only this morning did I realize that I should have sent 2 lee sees. Somehow I had missed that. But last Thursday I tucked 5 brand new $2 bills into the red envelope and hoped against hope that it would arrive in Castro Valley on time. One can't be sure with the post office these days.

Today an instant text message arrived showing that it got there and dear Owen's reaction.

Hooway!

YEAR'S END IS NEITHER AN END NOR A BEGINNING. BUT A GOING ON, WITH ALL THE WISDOM THAT EXPERIENCE CAN INSTILL IN US.

HAPPY CHINESE NEW YEAR!

WINE AND CHEESE

2012-01-21T09:08:00.000-08:00

IT'S BECOME A TRADITION since we moved in 3 years ago, but we weren't the initiators, I promise. On Friday afternoons from 3:30 until 4:15, the Tea Room is cleared of coffee, tea, ice water, juice, pastries and fruit. It becomes a wine bar where Tamara utilizes her skill as a waitress, remembering each resident's preference ahead of their being seated. She's remarkable.

So is Jack Frost, our resident President who brings his several
harmonicas. No memory problems there as he pulls song after song from his memory bank, filling the air with music.

"D", seen in the background, is the first to admit that her recent memory plays tricks on her, but when music plays, it moves D's soul and she either breaks into dance or song and it's a moving thing to see or hear. She was an elementary school teacher and rightly felt that music was all-important for her students.

Yesterday, nachos appeared in place of cubes of cheese. Much as I like tradition, a variation once in a while is a welcome thing.

It's tricky to write about the Manor, for sometimes management peeks in and I'd be mortified if I were ever to be taken to task for my comments. I'm going to be brave and share with you that a couple of times at our monthly dinners, as the champagne was being poured, I've caught sight of the words "Alcohol removed". Other times, not. It's interesting to contemplate.

I have my own good gauge for alcohol content. In my latter years, my cheeks have begun to flush after even half a glass of wine. No doubt about it......last night's libations were the real thing.

*“Wine is constant proof that God loves us and loves to see us happy.”*
Benjamin Franklin

MAGIC WOK

2012-01-19T08:25:00.001-08:00

LONG AGO, when Mr. Bob and I used to go to our within-walking-distance Chinese restaurant, the lone waiter, once he knew we were business owners, used to greet us with

"Once upon a time.......", followed by "There was a Queen", then

"and a King". It was such a ritual that I used to add "and an Emporer", just so Patrick wouldn't feel left out. And so it went, visit after visit, our knowing exactly how the words would unfold, wishing we could somehow break the mold.

Fast forward a few years to when the neighbors we'd lived side by side with for 45 years all decided to go to dinner together once a month. We'd carpooled and watched over the neighborhood kids all that while without having time to socialize really and retirement was affording us that freedom. We began by going to various restaurants, but nearly all of them refused to give us separate checks at the end of a delightful evening and we found ourselves in the position of doing mathematical story problems in figuring out who owed what.

Patrick to the rescue! At The Magic Wok, he was perfectly willing to separate the cost of the meal and it didn't take us long to decide to return and give that restaurant our business each month.

Gunars, in the Hawaiian shirt, is no longer with us. He was a sheriff's deputy and he left us too soon, but his widow, Susie (in chartreuse) still joins us. She retired last month, the last of us to keep working.

Dave, wearing an island shirt here, was a camp director in the High Sierra. He's the one with the yard full of artfully arranged mining equipment, up on the corner. He pans for gold in his front yard, you may remember. His wife, Shirley designs greeting cards and holds workshops for rubber stamping.

Clockwise, Rita and Bill, Zip (so camera shy in the beginning, refer to the first group picture), his wife must have been absent that evening, Susie, Dave, the miner, us and Shirley, Dave's wife. All have interesting stories to tell and the laughter is long and loud on the evenings we meet. Patrick assures us that it's permissible to be boisterous.

His conversational skills have broadened way beyond "Once upon a time........." and he comes to our table and joins our chatter, bringing in the subjects of the stock market and whatever else is on his mind.

Tonight's the night we get together (the third Thursday of each month) and anticipation runs high........eating Chinese food with 9 or 10 dishes to share is a treat, providing much variety. Dave, the miner, is the only one who brings his own chopsticks and handles them comfortably, so we let him take home most of the leftovers.

I just sent Owen a red money envelope this morning for Chinese New Year

Meanwhile, Happy Chinese New Year. Would that you could join us tonight. What dish would you order?

ON HIGH

2012-01-18T13:41:00.000-08:00

AS A CHILD, I didn't like to ride on my father's shoulders. I can remember the sensation quite vividly, even today, some 75 years later. However, there's something fascinating about seeing people in high places. Almost always, they are men and back during the last Presidential campaign, I did a piece for the web log, entitling it "MEN IN HIGH PLACES" with several pictures.

These 3 are new pictures of men in high places and I was proud of myself in the first post of tying it to the election by daring to say that I hoped that Barack Obama would soon be in a high place.

Well........that's when the doo-doo hit the fan and a longtime customer/friend rose up on her hind legs and commented that she was no longer going to read our blog because I had sullied it by becoming so political.

That put what I call an Edith Bunker look on my face, as I tried to grasp her point.

So of course I dropped her from the list of people to be notified. I knew her political affiliation but certainly thought she could handle hearing my personal views. It's true that nearly all of our close friends feel differently about politics than we do and it's a subject we avoid like the plague. I'm not the least bit good about defending my views and can no more debate than I can fly to the moon (that's getting to be an outdated statement, isn't it?)

As a driver, I can rarely snap such pictures these days and Mr. Bob's photographer's eye is different from my own, so it's a rare thing to add to my collection. A friend of my daughter's offered to drive me around just so I could put my camera to good use out in the world. Thank you, Laurie......such a generous idea. I may yet take you up on it.

"All right everyone, line up alphabetically according to your height."Casey Stengel

MORPHEUS CALLS

2012-01-17T06:59:00.000-08:00

SLEEPING BEAUTIES are my specialty.

For a mother, there's nothing like having the family safe under one roof.

Dear Winnie fell asleep waiting for the entertainment. I asked an aide to awaken her gently so she wouldn't miss the program.

Never before published. This woman crossed me seriously. Getting even.

My darling Mr. Bob can sleep any time, anywhere.

Susan, during one of our hospital stays. She's such a fine advocate.

My favorite curmudgeon catching 40 winks.

Sweet dreams

Mr. Bob, doing paperwork.

Snapped in Chinatown.

Double slumber

"Without enough sleep, we all become tall two-year-olds."
~JoJo Jensen

FOUND QUOTATION

2012-01-16T08:48:00.000-08:00

WHILE DOING SOME WORK on the February newsletter last evening, I came upon the quotation I wanted yesterday to go with the cloud pictures. My filing system isn't what it should be.

And when I awakened this morning and lay there gazing at the sky from our place in the universe, the clouds slowly became tinted and I had to leave my warm nest to go get my camera.

“Never, never again

This moment, never, those slow

ripples across smooth water,

Never again these clouds white and gray....

The sun that rose from the sea this morning will never return for the broadcast light that

brightens the leaves and glances on water will travel tonight on its long journey, out of the universe, never this sun, this world, and never again this watcher.”

Kathleen Raine

To me, it's interesting to realize that we, too, are changing minute by minute and won't ever be quite the same as we were just seconds ago.

SKIES

2012-01-15T08:35:00.000-08:00

RECENTLY I found a perfect quotation to go with pictures of clouds. It was about the sky never looking the same and the need to realize that we are looking at a never-to-be-repeated scene each time we observe the sky. The words were profound and lovely and deep and I'll be damned if I know where to find them.

So, what I offer you today is second best, if indeed that. Should you be close to a window, lift your eyes and marvel at something you'll never see again.

"I saw two clouds at morning
Tinged by the rising sun,
And in the dawn they floated on
And mingled into one."
~John Gardiner Calkins Brainard

“A pessimist only sees the dark side of the clouds, and mopes; a philosopher sees both sides and shrugs; an optimist doesn't see the clouds at all--he's walking on them.”
Leonard L. Levinson

“Clouds come floating into my life, no longer to carry rain or usher storm, but to add color to my sunset sky.”
Rabindranath Tagore

"I wandered lonely as a cloudThat floats on high o'er vales and hills..."
~William Wordsworth

"See yonder little cloud, that, borne aloft
So tenderly by the wind, floats fast away
Over the snowy peaks!"
~Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

"When I admire the wonder of a sunset or the beauty of the moon, my soul expands in worship of the Creator. "

~Mahatma Gandhi

"Those playful fancies of the mighty sky."
Albert Smith

“Rest is not idleness, and to lie sometimes on the grass under the trees on a summer's day, listening to the murmur of water, or watching the clouds float across the sky, is by no means a waste of time”
John Lubbock

"There is one spectacle grander than the sea, that is the sky; there is one spectacle grander than the sky, that is the interior of the soul."

Victor Hugo

"The sky is the daily bread of the eyes."
~Ralph Waldo Emerson

" I think the world really boils down to two types of people - those who see shapes in cloud formations, and those who just see clouds. " ~Terri Guillemets

"Gray skies are just clouds passing over."
~Author Unknown

FROM THE ARCHIVES

2012-01-14T10:02:00.000-08:00

DIPPING INTO MY STASH of accumulated photos, these prompted today's entry for neither rhyme nor reason.

In my weakened condition, I'm having trouble getting back into our high bed when I get up at night so the past two nights I've slept in that new La-Z-Boy......the one that looks (and is) geriatric. And I don't need a blanket when I wear this ridiculously outsized robe. I'm glad I kept it.

Were we ever this young? I wish I'd kept that vest and that large spectacles were still in style.

All along I've been saying, "Yes, we sold the shop 9 years ago" and this morning I realized that it's nearing the 11 year mark. Time flies whether you're having fun or not. I'm glad it's still there (in a different location. The corner where it stood for 17 years is about to become a Starbucks much to the town's sorrow.) And I don't miss the responsibility of it one little bit. Not at all.

I think this was taken on our last day at the shop. Maureen made the aprons for us. Amelia and Jessica are now quite grown up; the older one in college, I think. It was her letter to the local paper that resulted in her parents buying the store.

Our monthly newsletter was named, "Silhouettes", my reading glasses are called "Silhouettes", I buy clothes from a company with the same name. My earliest childhood book was illustrated with that art form. It's an important word in my life.

And that's your weekend "nothing" report. I forgot to take pictures of getting my haircut and permanent this week and going out to lunch twice with friends. I may be slipping.

TALES OUT OF SCHOOL

2012-01-13T15:27:00.000-08:00

I'M NEVER SURE what's okay to tell and what isn't. My purpose isn't to betray confidences and I try not to include anything that would embarrass the subject. Once in a while, I look out over one of our public rooms and am overwhelmed by a feeling of love.......a fierce love for those of us in our collective family here at the Manor........yes, even the ones with whom I don't resonate. The loveable, the unloveable, the complainers, the beams of sunshine. Human nature shows all around, perhaps the more so in the elderly.

Midge has a piano in her room and hopes that no one hears her practice.

Dot, at the left, is from the East Coast originally. She's as avant-garde as anyone here.
Helen and her Baptist minister husband, Rudy; Helen had a stroke back in the 80s and is one of the most cheerful people at the Manor.

Darling Glenys who claims to feel physically awful 100% of the time but always has a smile and a caring for others.

MaryMil, our newest resident, is a delight and is thrilled with the food served here.

Ernestine, to the left, is the Residents' secretary and Evelyn is the organizer of the group of wise women known as "The Crones". Ernestine is a Crone, too.

Lola is about as big as a minute. She loves opera on the radio and once when told by a male resident to turn the volume down told him, "No and you can just get used to it."

Helen, to the right, is scheduled for cataract surgery a week from today.

All of these pictures were taken last night at our monthly birthday dinner. Here Diana, Sona and Verjik sing in celebration.

Lucky us! It was gooooooood!

MEET THE DOCTOR

2012-01-12T09:00:00.000-08:00

THE TIME HAD COME to meet the doctor yesterday, the one who's in charge of Mr. Bob's radiation program. I have a great fear of medical men. So when I end up responding favorably to a doctor it's a very good sign.

And Dr. Andrew Suen passed the test.

He was extremely personable, friendly, eager to answer any and all questions (even ones pertaining to my condition). What a relief!

The nurse, Sylvia, was equally attentive and when I enquired about her family, told me that 3 years ago she had been bedridden for 8 solid months with a mystery illness, with her son in the next bedroom with a broken leg and a husband out of work, but she overcame her back problems and one just doesn't know, does one, what other people weather in the way of challenging life situations?

The day previous I had gone in to meet the doctor but important phone calls prevented him from seeing us. It had been a struggle to get my tired body into the waiting room from my usual place parked at the curb (taking pictures of passersby) and I tried to hide my disappointment at the need to do it all over again the next day. Sylvia was so empathic and solicitous, even holding the door open for us as we left that I went to the car and had a complete meltdown for no apparent reason at all. Out of the blue, I found myself out of control. I tell you this only because it would be wrong to appear that we're sailing through all this in an unflappable manner. We aren't. We have our moments, but it had been a long time since I'd cried without being able to stop.

I maneuvered us home and then had to sit in the parking lot for an hour trying to get on top of the emotion and to Mr. Bob's credit, he stayed at my side even though I urged him to go ahead to our room.

Yesterday I told Sylvia it might be better not to be nice to me. And I met the doctor and I liked him and everything became rosy again.

“Tears are words the heart can't express”

READERSHIP DOWN

2012-01-11T08:08:00.000-08:00

REMEMBER THE BOOK, "Watership Down"? For some reason the only title I could think of for today's entry is "Readership Down" for my guess is that many of our followers resolved not to waste time on reading our ramblings on line this new year. I don't think of myself as a particularly competitive person, but since I have access to the statistics, I find myself trying to beat previous performances whether I intend to or not.

For instance I can tell how many times an entry has been visited in the last week (month or day, also) and it's been running nearly half less since the first of the year. I know the most devoted of you are still following us because your comments prove so, and what erudite people you are.......the comments usually being more interesting than the piece itself, definitely worth going back to read.

And one of the wonders of modern technology is that I can even tell where the readers are. In the past week:
1008 United States
38 Great Britain
13 Chile
6 Spain
6 Russia
4 Canada
4 India
4 Norway
3 Australia
2 Indonesia.

I can only assume that most of them were stumbled upon by mistake, but Russia has shown rather consistently which is a great mystery. India? Chile, which is a recent showing? One never knows.

I know our news these days isn't quite as dramatic as it was a few months ago, or it probably is, but we've just gotten used to it. At any rate, I'm forever grateful for your keeping in touch and I'm open to any and all suggestions for making our web log more interesting.

Love,
Jane & Mr. Bob

TO MARKET, TO MARKET

2012-01-10T15:58:00.000-08:00

TWO THINGS about me........I'm lazy and I'm acquisitive. When I saunter out on my own, by the time I arrive back home I have to telephone Mr. Bob to come help me carry stuff up to our room. Having to use a cane makes it all the harder, just getting everything juggled into the right hand and proper grip. Truly, it requires a talent I've yet to develop.

Yesterday morning was one of those ventures....Mr. Bob went off to his radiation appointment and I headed for a doctor's appointment. In my weakened state, it's a marvel I got parked and managed to maneuver the tortuous path from the car to the waiting room. When I was through I felt so pleased with myself that I drove into Trader Joe's parking lot feeling that if God wanted me to test my weakened wings further there'd be a Disabled parking space and there it was, right next to the front door to the market. I sat and watched customers come and go for a bit and then planned my attack. If I hobbled into the store and kept going to the far wall, I'd be in front of the tangerine juice which was my reason for being there. Carefully, carefully, slowly but surely......mind my step......made it! They only had half gallons so that filled one hand, the other being needed for the cane. Then, shopper that I am, I let my eye survey the area in which I found myself. Oh, look! The cereal we've not had for a while........Maple Nut Clusters. Shamble across the aisle, put down the jug of juice, reach high for the box, tuck it under my elbow, reach down for the juice and wend my way to the nearest register.

Waiting my turn, I spied a perfect greeting card in a display just ahead of the register and I managed to hook one between thumb and forefinger without dropping the cereal or the liquid sunshine that I consider tangerine juice to be.

Quite a feat, really and it took two telephone calls, leaving a message and a text before I reached Mr. Bob to ask him to meet me in the parking lot for help. I'll not be good widow material if and when the time comes.

As I sit and wait for Mr. Bob's radiation treatment each morning, I see lots of people who have been to the market which is several blocks down the road.

I'm surprised at the number of people who carry bags (but rarely in combination with a cane).

A few people, very few, have discovered the joys of a market basket.

Those are the folks I identify with. And I'd like to think they're not lazy, just smart.

"Efficiency is intelligent laziness."
~David Dunham

A BIT OF ENGLAND

2012-01-09T14:47:00.000-08:00

THERE'S SOMETHING NEW in our neighborhood. We live in a quiet, residential area, but all of a sudden round-abouts have appeared in at least three intersections I've seen so far. My guess is that it's an attempt to tame some of the wild young drivers that speed through the area, especially after dark, in a sort of audible testosterone display. Some of the sounds are quite scary as the revved up engines roar and the brakes squeal through the quiet of the night, especially when I've parked our car on the street overnight to avoid a long walk to the parking lot the next morning. Wait long enough and the drivers grow up and leave the area to the next generation of hot-rodders.

When Tim and I went out on Sunday, even he couldn't resist going round 'n round 'n round just for the fun of it, so I can only imagine what creative, mischievous young folks might do. I'll be watching to see if flowers are planted in the centers and if not, I might have to take a stroll with some wildflower seeds.

It's put me in mind of our trip to England with Mr. Bob at the wheel of the rented car where roundabouts proved to be a challenge. One of my vivid memories is Christopher's low, calm voice saying, as we circled, "Dad, we're approaching our off-ramp again.....take it easy." We laughed a lot on that trip, mostly at poor Mr. B's expense. I remember tootling along through the city of York on a street closed to traffic and Chris saying, "Hold perfectly still, pretend we're mannequins and we're being delivered." to avoid the embarrassment of being observed by all those pedestrians.

And the night at dinner when a relaxed Mr. Bob observed that he'd finally gotten the hang of driving on the opposite side of the road and the way he stiffened immediately when Chris warned him that he'd have to unlearn it when we returned home.

I sat in the back seat with three maps spread out around me and saw more of the printed page than the scenery outside the window as I tried to give directions in a strange country. Another time I would take 2 magnets to mark the place from which I lifted my eyes so that I could readily resume map reading instead of searching among new-to-me town names to find my spot. And I would get one of those "L" signs to put in the rear window to signify that the driver was a Learner, but the truth of the matter is I'm sure we won't be driving through England again in our lifetime, so I pass along my experience to you to use as you see fit. I hope you get to go.

A roundabout is the name for a road junction in which traffic moves in one direction around a central island. The word dates from the early 20th century.

PS re OWEN

2012-01-08T11:53:00.000-08:00

I NEGLECTED to include the line that prompted me to write about Owen and his little "This is a joke" placard. After I made it, he commented that people would think he was a protester. How does a 4 year old even know that word???

A picture came from Chris after they were safely back home. Owen had requested at bedtime that his Dad make him all cozy and this was the result.

Thanks for indulging this Granny.

GOODBYE, OWEN!

2012-01-08T10:17:00.000-08:00

BEFORE THE NORTHERN CALIFORNIA contingent left, I fashioned a sign for Owen to hold up when he was telling a joke......sort of a rudimentary applause meter so that folks would know when to laugh when he was delivering his four year old witticisms. I don't know if it'll ever be used but he humored me enough to take it on home with him.

Packed up and ready to leave, down the hall they trudged,

waited at the elevator,

down the road to their car,

G'bye, love. Come again soon!

"The prospect of going home is very appealing."David Ginola

A GOOD READ

2012-01-07T11:08:00.000-08:00

WELL, better than good, actually. The older I get, the dimmer the eyesight which is a startling turn of events for someone who has read voraciously since the age of 4. I find that most often I begin a book and a few chapters in, I put it aside due to tired eyes or could it possibly be a lack of interest? Horrors! The thoughr of losing interest is frightening to me when it comes to something that's been such a huge part of my life.

I do love memoirs and books about food and having heard about this book I requested it from our local public library, always feeling guilty about not using what the Manor library contains.....there is a wealth of books on our shelves and after all, I'm supposed to be a partial librarian here. It seems disloyal somehow to go elsewhere for my reading material.

There was a wait for my turn to check it out and life must have been busy for when the due date arrived to return it, I wasn't even half way through, so back it went to keep peace in the family (Mr. Bob does NOT tolerate overdue fines).

But the title kept appearing in articles and food blogs I read, so I placed a request for it again. Waited. Started the book again from the beginning and was so struck with the quality of writing that I regretted the moments when I had to put it aside to rest my weary eyes. I managed to finish it on the morning of the due date and now realize that it was one of those books that spoils for a while anything else one tries to follow it with.

It will come out in paperback toward the end of this month and I'm going to purchase a copy and donate it to the Manor library just so others can enjoy it and I may have another chance someday.

Google it, to get a better idea of the subject. And if you're intrigued and follow through by reading it let me know what you think.

*“You know you've read a good book when you turn the last page and feel a little as if you have lost a friend.”*
Paul Sweeney

OWEN TAKES TEA

2012-01-06T08:25:00.001-08:00

ON THEIR RECENT VISIT, I made reservations for us to have lunch at a nearby tearoom, a new experience for Owen. Frances thought that he recognized the special treatment.......the waitress pushed his chair closer to the table and tucked a napkin under his chin. His manners were impeccable (thank you, Father) and he was served ahead of the rest of us, finishing his egg salad sandwich before the rest of us began to eat. Out of a choice of lemonade, cocoa or tea, he selected hot chocolate. (At the Manor when offered ice cream for dessert, he had asked what flavors and when the waitress got to coffee after vanilla and chocolate, Owen said, "Oh, I don't drink coffee")

The owner of the T-Room practiced her craft in Russia before moving to the U.S. and no detail has been overlooked in making this place a highly attractive room.

After we finished our sandwiches, salads and scones, I asked Owen if he agreed that we were in a fancy place. Showing his maleness, Owen nodded and replied, "Too fancy". But I'm proud that the men in our family can weather a tea room lunch once in a while. Not all men would be that flexible.

Why our proclivity to exhibit silliness, I wonder? Chris couldn't resist the raised pinky long enough for a photo shot.

I digress, but on an earlier day, Chris had driven me to my chemotherapy treatment, after which we went to breakfast and the resulting photos showed an odd likeness in the handling of a coffee cup. Neither of us is using the handle which seems rather unusual and what are the chances of both of us exhibiting unusual behavior?

"Never trust a man who, when left alone in a room with a tea cozy, doesn't try it on."
~Billy Connolly

REWIND TO JANUARY 2

2012-01-05T11:46:00.000-08:00

TRADITIONALLY, when January 1 falls on a Sunday the Rose Parade is scheduled for the following day.

This was a Monday year and Mr. Bob was determined to get a picture of the Stealth as it passed over us on the way to start the parade in Pasadena which is just over the hill.

SUCCESS!!!

Did you watch the parade from wherever you were? My very favorite float was sponsored by Trader Joe's, a specialty market chain where we do at least half of our shopping. They have attractive $1 greeting cards, plants, freshly squeezed tangerine juice, yummy scones, hard boiled eggs; it's silly for me to even try to describe the place. If you don't have a TJ where you live, visit here and weep. FEARLESS FLYER is the name of their advertising sheet and each time a new one comes out, we pore over it to see what's new and recommended.

I think, but I'm not sure, that it was built by store employees and I know for sure people were chosen from the ranks to ride on the float. Mind you, everything is made from flowers.

Last evening as we left the dining room after supper we passed the tea room and saw 2 tables laden with vases of posies. They were flowers from some of the Rose Parade floats, donated to retirement homes and we were welcome to take a container of them to our room.

What a nice idea......don't you think?

REWIND TO DECEMBER 26

2012-01-04T07:44:00.000-08:00

THERE WAS NO LET-DOWN feeling the day after Christmas, for that was the day our eldest and his family drove four hundred miles from Northern California to see us. Four year old Owen, always a charmer, has blossomed into full-blown boyhood, coming up with his own jokes and constantly building creations in his mind's eye.

I asked his Dad if he thought Owen might grow up to be an inventor and Chris' response was, "Either that or terribly disappointed."

Because the two guestrooms here at the Manor had been booked previous to my request, our family needed to stay in our room which was perfectly fine with us, but let me explain our dormitory arrangement. Frances slept on our sofa. To minimize the footprint

they leave behind, they come bearing their own sheets, pillows and towels.

Owen sleeps in a sleeping bag atop a short-legged cot in the living room. At bedtime he snuggles down, amuses himself with his imagination before dropping off into slumber. Our kids never went to bed that mildly.

Christopher lays out his sleeping bag on the floor with his head to the mirrored closet doors and his feet in the kitchen. He's somewhere there in the red and black fabric.

One morning a soft knock sounded on the door at 5:30 a.m. No one had alerted us that anyone was coming to draw Mr. Bob's blood for a coumadin test, so we weren't expecting visitors. Chris untangled himself from his cocoon, got to the door on his knees, opened it and the nurse asked, "Mr. Humphrey?" which, after all, is indeed his name. Never mind that he looked too young to be living here. Luckily all health workers check a patient's birth date before starting any procedure.

Somehow she picked her way to the bedroom where the intended Mr. Humphrey withdrew his arm from the covers, offered it to her. Mission accomplished, she found her way to the front door and let herself out.

Retirement home living is different in some ways and that was one of them. Friends express surprise that maintenance people and health workers have access to our rooms if we don't answer their knock. I, myself, am surprised that so many of the staff have found us in our nightclothes and various stages of undress. These things matter less with age, I think.. My mother used to say, "If you see anything you haven't seen before, throw your old hat at it." So far no one's tossed a chapeau in our direction.

REWIND TO CHRISTMAS EVE

2012-01-03T14:33:00.001-08:00

FOR YEARS, Diane and Roger have hosted an intimate birthday party for Mr. Bob on Christmas Eve. They are the host and hostess with the mostest, realizing how important presentation is and you'd never, ever see a mustard jar on the table in contrast with the way I might do it. We're lucky to count them among our friends.

I think it was Tim who brought the English crackers, which when popped, reveal a joke or riddle, a toy and a silly hat. Much as I love the idea of hats, I'm unhappy with them when I have to put one on........precisely why I'm hoping to keep my

hair throughout my six months of chemotherapy.

We read our riddles, played our games and the birthday cake appeared.

Mr. Bob rose above his discomfort at the idea of being the birthday boy long enough for us to sing and express our mood of celebration.

My voice has become a little raspy with the passing years, but I do love to read aloud and Diane asked me to read her newly acquired edition of a pop-up "Twas the Night Before Christmas" and I was only too happy to comply.

“If someone said on Christmas Eve, / `Come see the oxen kneel . . .' / I should go with him in the gloom, / Hoping it might be so.”
Thomas Hardy

JANUARY 2

2012-01-02T11:59:00.000-08:00

We get sack suppers on holidays. Before today's parade the Stealth flew right over the Manor patio on its way to Pasadena. Be still, my heart! Why it should be so thrilling, I don't know.

Virginia, a Marine, toasts the New Year.

It's a tradition for me to wear a Christmas tree star garland. Once I forgot to take it off at the shop and at midnight it had become twisted and tangled around my throat. I worked and worked to get it off before realizing that a $3.95 item could be clipped and retied.

MaryMil, our newest resident, called the day the newsletter was distributed to tell me she liked my column!

Seen outside a doctor's office, this summed up a close to the holidays.

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

2012-01-01T00:53:00.000-08:00

The editor of the Manor's monthly newsletter passed away recently and I was asked to be a guest editor. What follows is my first column.

It’s a privilege to be invited to stand in as “guest editor” in the place vacated by Doris Sisley. Bear with me as I feel my way along searching for subjects that may interest you.

It’s been many years since my little, malaprop-prone daughter flounced her way into the kitchen one New Year’s Day morning, twirling in her constant-motion way and announcing “Well, has everybody made their revolutions?”

I thought that decisions for 2012 might be a good subject for my first (oh, please don’t let it be my last) column. Resolutions.

Here are some of the responses from residents..............

Leona responded with.....”Oh, no, my whole life is a resolution. I’m trying all the time.”

Evelyn Robison said she will take advantage of every opportunity she possibly can to have fun.

Mary Arnold has lots of resolutions, but none that she wants published.

“To continue with my poetry”, said Anne Van Trigt.

“I wish the world health” from Victor.

Art Edwards and Mary Jane Lennert told me at dinner that they resolve not to make resolutions.

Our executive director, Mr. Michael, resolves to laugh more.

Midge Fuller, after reading from our Manor library, "Getting Rid of Clutter", is resolving to reduce her clutter by half.

Jeanne Guernsey said she never has made resolutions and doesn’t plan to start now.

I struck gold with retired Pastor Rudy Kronst who said,

“I’ll try to have more patience with my wife and more insight with the patients at Huntington Hospital where I volunteer as a chaplain. With a congregation I came to know the people, at the hospital the people are ever new.”

Marian Deddo-Smith and Ken Moore were leaving the dining room when I approached them with my question. At first they vowed that they don’t indulge in making resolutions, then Ken changed it to hoping to maintain his indepencence throughout 2012. Marion held firm. No resolutions.

Gladys and Bob Humphrey had nearly identical answers:

Gladys Harris: “I don’t make resolutions; they’re too easy to break.”

Mr. Bob Humphrey: “The futility of trying to keep resolutions in the past prevents my making new ones."

Lorraine Dolan: “What I’m going to do is be more active whether it hurts or not.”

Joan Brooks is determined to smile more.

Simone vows to lose 5 pounds; 2 in the front and 3 in the back or was it the other way around?

As for me, I’m vowing to eat less (in the hope of losing far more than 5 pounds), chew longer, start myself a Windsor Manor sketchbook and begin keeping a Gratitude Journal.

Our little Susan may have spoken words of wisdom after all. In a way, even if we don't indulge in making resolutions, we all make what could be termed "revolutions" as the year ends and we turn, figuratively, to start the ascent into the next year, climbing the ladder, month by month. A word of caution: often, falls occur when we oldsters turn without watching our feet. Cuidado, my friends and a Happy New Year to each and every one of you!

TOO MUCH TO TELL YOU

2011-12-24T14:19:00.000-08:00

HERE IT IS, Christmas Eve and time is getting short and there's so much to share with you that I'm putting it all in one posting.

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

My clever brother sent this picture to the guests that came to his house for dinner. He's a fabulous cook and I'm jealous of his abilities. He also sent me this link and I'm passing it along to you:

hhttp://www.carlsonschool.umn.edu/holiday11/

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

This is the Big Bertha radiation machine that Mr. Bob visits five days a week. When he's accomplished 35 treatments, he'll be through. Fingers crossed, prayers uttered.

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

The next picture was taken months ago. Mr. Bob's hair has grown back so nicely that he required a trim yesterday. Our daughter, Susan, asked that he please see that his Andy-Rooney type eyebrows get some attention.

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞




Owen, returning to the Oakland Airport at night, following 4 stimulating days in Florida, visiting theme parks with all their wonders, looked out the window as the plane was descending and observed, "Wow! Planet Earth!"

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

The following is another "old" photo from the archives. We'll be around this table at 4 this afternoon to celebrate Mr. Bob's birthday whether he likes it or not. Remember, he's definitely not big on birthdays, his own or anyone else's.

But on Thursday evening, the guest mariachi band encircled him and serenaded the birthday boy.

Here's the evidence:

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

Another from my brother:

http://www.wimp.com/glassharp/

O TANNENBAUM

2011-12-23T16:20:00.000-08:00

WHAT WAS THERE ABOUT THIS YEAR that made me decide on a whim to purchase a tree? It's to be a year of no material gifts whatsoever, neither given, nor received and I surprised myself by buying an 8 inch wreath and a small swag for our front door, mostly so we could get a whiff of Christmas now and again. That aroma is too good to give up and before my purchases dried up, they didn't offer much in the way of the sweet smell of Christmas.

I passed this sign on the way home from breakfast last Sunday and circled the block, whipped into a parking place and asked my Scrooge how he felt about choosing a tree. Amazingly, he was game and soon reappeared with a perfect little evergreen.

At home he emerged from the passenger side with his tree just as Clara was finishing her three-times-around-the-block-equals-one-mile ritual and she insisted on hanging the tree on her walker to take it inside.

Although she lives on the first floor, she marched on to the elevator and when we got to our door, Clara had the littlest Christmas tree waiting for us.

I couldn't resist taking a picture for the archives. I know that we had a traditional live tree, fully decorated, as the children were growing up, but I wonder at what point we jettisoned the practice to devote all of our energies toward the extra hours of retail demands at that time of year.

Our daughter remembers, perhaps too vividly, the year I was determined to have a tree in every room of the house and proceeded to buy our six trees, standing them in buckets of water on the patio and after Christmas, carrying them from the back yard out to the trash pickup location at the curb. They never saw the inside of the house. A total waste of money. Foolish and frustrating, more so even than the year I mixed up several batches of cookie dough in November, labeling them with oven temperature and baking time before finding room for them in the freezer. My organizational efforts always fail and we didn't get around to Christmas cookie baking until the next February.

So you can see the import of acquiring a tree this year of all years, a year that I can't label "bad" even though we've been challenged beyond anything that's happened to us before. I can't speak for Mr. Bob, but I have found unexpected gifts in the situation, perhaps most of all the receiving of your friendship as you've cheered us on along this unknown path.

"Tradition:

sit with husband

in a room

lit only by

tree lights and remember that

our blessings outnumber the lights.

Happy Christmas to all!"

Betsy Caños Garmon

PAYDAY

2011-12-22T15:13:00.000-08:00

I KNOW I'VE MENTIONED BEFORE that the staff at the Manor are not allowed to accept tips. If, God forbid, a resident should insist on tipping a helper, I'm sure the person who lives here would be sharply reprimanded, but the employee would be fired on the spot. Or so I've been told and I don't plan to test it. The urge to tip is hard to resist when the services rendered are often way beyond the call of duty.

I think that's what attracted us about this place in the beginning..... it was obvious that staff members were sincere in their willingness to help and help they do......amazingly.............dropping whatever they're doing to assist a resident who they see carrying a package or juggling keys to unlock a gate or door.

Our chance to express monetary appreciation comes in the fall of the year. It's much like being near the end of a long cruise when it's time to tip the crew members. Someone brilliant in mathematics is in charge of figuring out how much each employee receives based on seniority from the money that accumulates in the Employees' Appreciation Fund.

Santa comes on a designated day mid-December and the staff are called on alphabetically. One year I hope they'll consider calling names by number of years of working at the Manor. I sat next to someone in the payroll department and was treated to the benefit of annotation as she whispered such words as, "She's been here 25 years".

The worker approaches, shakes hands with our president, Jack Frost and turns to Santa who hands out the envelopes along with a dollar coin for good luck. The residents and other staffers applaud and it's a feel-good event for all concerned.

Maggie has been here 20 years. She works 2 jobs and is the mother of 6 children.

Sometimes it's Jack Frost who gets a hug.
Susie from the dining room is wise.
Jack's here all year 'round.

Other times it's Santa. Cora takes care of prescription needs and takes good care of us.

Janice is an important nurse who worked here a long time, retired, then missed us enough to return to work.

Juan is one of the skilled cooks in the kitchen and one of two Juans on the staff.

I think this is Conrad. His look-alike brother works on the nursing staff, too, and their mother before them.

Carlos is in charge of the Maintenance and Housekeeping crews.

Verjik waits tables and is always jolly.

Daffodale brought her son, Wyatt, to the festivities.

All mothers are beautiful.
Wyatt is especially fortunate in that respect.

I call this "Waiting for Santa"
Taken in December, 2010

"GETTING TO GO"

2011-12-21T12:28:00.000-08:00

I'LL FOREVER WONDER if the reason I came through the mastectomy without losing my sanity might be because I had become so hungry for something different to do that I welcomed even what promised to be a negative experience. I'm a hypochondriac who is deathly afraid of doctors, and the family marveled at what appeared to be "bravery" on my part, but I don't think it could be termed "courage" and certainly not "fearlessness"......how embarrassing if it was merely "boredom".

So after seeing Mr. Bob through months of treatment (and one of these days I must come clean about what living with chemo was REALLY like, but not just yet), and weeks of my own tests and surgery and recuperation and the beginning of my own chemotherapy program, the last week of "rest" between medications has been what in the drug world might be termed a "trip".

Even though my eyesight seems to have dimmed somewhat, my receptors have been overwhelmed with insights and ideas and appreciations. One night I made myself get up at 3 a.m. to write down some of the thoughts that were flooding my brain, just so I could fall back into the sleep that usually comes so easily.

I've been letting myself be more spontaneous about going places and following through on ideas, dragging my own precious Scrooge along with me, so far with less complaints from him than when I'm trying to please him rather than myself.

A friend I'd not seen for months suggested meeting for lunch last week and the actuality brought me such pleasure that I determined to indulge myself more often. That very same evening we joined our former neighbors for our monthly Chinese dinner at a big round table with a lazy Susan in the middle, laden with succulent offerings; definitely the way to go at an Asian restaurant is with a large group which gives one a taste of many flavors. After dinner I drove through Montrose which always enhances one's Christmas spirit. The tree that was written about in scathing terms in our local paper didn't shock me at all, but rather brought a smile to my face because it dared to be so different. I know who wrote the letter of complaint and I'm sitting on my hands to keep from responding. Christmas isn't the time to be argumentative.

Two days later, we partied rather than stitching at the weekly Needlepoint Group, with lunch and an ornament exchange that was good fun.

Breakfast with friends on Sunday, after which, wonder of wonders, I was moved to get the first Christmas tree we've had in probably 15 years. I'll do a separate entry about it. I still can't believe it happened as I marvel at the whiffs of Christmas that emanate from it.

Remember, everything that I like, I tend to do in excess and being sprung from what felt like bondage, showed that tendency of mine, so on Monday after taking Mr. Bob to the cardiologist ("everything's fine.....see you in 3 months"), we stopped at Leon's, a new bakery in town and shared a pulled pork sandwich with extra aioli.

Mr. Bob's radiation

appointment on Tuesday took longer than usual; I would have had to drive over the speed limit to get back to the Manor before they stopped serving dinner, so I found a parking place and we enjoyed seafood at Clancy's......Mr. Bob ordered cedar plank salmon. He said not a word about its being good. I hope it was. My fish and chips were excellent.

This morning early I descended to the bowels of the building and had my hair washed and blown dry before rising to the occasion of taking Bob for his daily dose of electromagnetic waves; from there to the credit union and next our minivan nosed its way to a place called The Toasted Bun where we had a late breakfast.

I'm ashamed of the amount of hedonism I've exhibited in this past week. In my heart of hearts I know that I'd do it again, given the chance. I can feel a New Year's resolution or 2 coming up. Meanwhile, "DECADENCE" is my word of the month. At a nearby school, it appears to be something else.

"Too much of a good thing can be wonderful."
~ Mae West

THE CHAIRS

2011-12-14T13:25:00.000-08:00

I REMEMBER when a 100 year old antique seemed nearly impossible to attain among our own things. Now here we are, living in a plethora of items from long, long ago. The kitchen chairs from my mother's house came along with us to the Manor. They were attractive, once sturdy, and I just didn't want to part with them until I realized that the supports were loosening and someone would eventually end up on the floor if we weren't very careful. Not a pretty picture to contemplate.

So the nagging began. Mr. Bob got tired of hearing, "Either repair those chairs once and for all or we need to get rid of them." Or maybe he didn't register my warnings at all, it's hard to tell. I talked Tim into taking 2 of them, 2 are still in the bedroom, at Bob's 2 desk positions (he gets 2 desks while I'm working everything in my lap and trying, fruitlessly, to maintain some semblance of order, but that's another story.)

One evening during Susan's visit, I sent her along with Tim out to Pier 1 to look for some director's chairs. We had brought 2 with us when we moved here and during the first fund-raising boutique, I pointed a chair out to Mr. Bob as being like ours and his response was that it didn't just look like ours, but that it WAS ours and at that very moment a customer was claiming it. In my book, decisions such as that require a conference.

At any rate when the kids returned home from their shopping trip they were excited that the chairs they had found were "so MOM!", just shrieking to be purchased. They were right.......witness:

Now to get rid of the other 2 kitchen chairs. My grandmother had a saying, "He can sit on his thumb and let his feet hang over". That should either speed up Mr. Bob's bill paying or slow it down. One or t'other.

"Comfort rules. You want to be able to sit in a good chair comfortably for a few hours and be able to talk and enjoy a glass of wine. There's nothing worse than sitting in an uncomfortable chair."
Amanda Pays

THIS AND THAT

2011-12-13T17:27:00.000-08:00

TODAY I'm 1/6 finished with my chemotherapy program. The doctor said the first session is the hardest, possibly because one doesn't know what to expect. The following 3 pictures are a study on pretending one isn't present on the scene. I'm so lucky that I don't have to have the drip system that the gentleman next to me is having, but only some syringes full of the medication. Even at that, I don't want to watch, just get it over with, is my attitude.

Birthday dinner this month was the usual delicious. Fennel soup, tenderloin, twice baked parmesan/truffle potatoes, green beans. Lovely. Dessert is always looked forward to by me.......a red velvet cupcake and what are referred to as "drunken berries" an assortment of berries in a cloud of whipped cream flavored with Chambord. Yum!

Susan sent this picture of Justin in Alaska involved in his favorite activity.........making art. He'll be 27 on December 22.

§§§§§§§§

Chris and his family flew to Florida today, stopping in my home town (My kinda town, Chicago is) for 2 hours. After attending a nephew's graduation in Miami, they'll go on to Orlando, planning to go to 4 theme parks in 4 days. I'm glad they're young.

And that's the news from our corner of the world.

COLOR!

2011-12-12T09:41:00.000-08:00

RECENTLY, I checked out a coffee table book from the public library on "Artists' Houses". Out of several homes featured, we had actually visited only one....... Sam Maloof's house

in Alta Loma. It had been a splendid experience, one that I highly recommend should you be looking for something interesting to do.

In the borrowed book, I noticed that except for Sam Maloof's house, the artists had used a palette of the most muted of neutral tones in their domestic surroundings. A very few had a patch of color here and there.....in the form of a pillow or a small bowl, but the grays, beiges, off-whites predominated against the natural materials so many had chosen for their houses.......rock, stone, wood.

That got me to wondering about my own preferences. I often wear black, hoping to God it's true that the darkness is slimming, but I enjoy putting a splash of color somewhere against the black. (Never mind silly Tim, in this photo.....he, who used to be shy about a request for a simple snapshot.)

Remember how taken I was with the color red in a recent posting? Well, yesterday I pulled out a long skirt I've never worn, found I had a blouse of the same color (it may be the Tangerine Tango that has been deemed the color of 2012......wouldn't that be something, to be in style for a change?) Since I didn't plan to leave my room, I put these 2 garments on, warned Mr. Bob when he arose from his nap that commentary on my outfit was not appropriate and wore it for the rest of the day, alternating between feeling happy and utterly foolish. If I wore it down to the dining room, I think many proper ladies would fall off of their chairs, possibly resulting in a lot of broken hips. It doesn't resemble any Manor outfit I've ever seen. When I was lighter in weight, I wore a pair of pants with off-white tropical flowers on them and there were many comments about how "loud" they were.

Last Saturday I had to pull on my drab clothes to go collect my own prescription because the drugstore doesn't deliver on the weekends, so technically I'm on the road to recovery. I'll be interested to see if I can be brave enough to wear Tangerine Tango once my current illness has abated and I'm out in the world again. Often my rebelliousness is all in my head without the backing to put it into action. Know what I mean?

"Rebellion is the only thing that keeps you alive!"Marianne Faithful
l

WAITING IN THE WINGS

2011-12-11T12:21:00.001-08:00

These men were greeters
at a hotel at Disneyland.
The one on the left is
playing the part. The other
fellow looks "real" to me.

OVER TIME, as I've downloaded photos onto my computer, I've tucked images into a folder labeled "Blog possibilities". As you know, sometimes several of the pictures together yield possibilities to illustrate a story for the day's entry.

However, there are in excess of 2,000 items just sitting there, a little like the envelope of what I call "bastard stamps", gathered every time postage rises to the point that I don't even know what some of the denominations are. Mr. Bob refuses to use them to mail his bills, so it falls to me as the thrifty one to find uses for those bits of paper.

I wish we could sit down together and sift through some of these gathered images, although I know that your attention span would expire before we got very far, so my intent (the road to hell is paved with those, you realize) is to grab a random dozen of them every weekend and share them. Whether you'll find that interesting or not is anyone's guess. We'll find out soon enough, by the comments.

Here we go:

I'm a bit appalled to look back and see the size of servings I used to dish up. My servings are far smaller now; yet I'm much bigger.

Remember the blanket I wanted to make for Owen, with stripes going alternating directions, only I ended up with 36 trapezoids? Frances saved the day, but my plan was thwarted, par for my craft course.

Why in the world? Was this a mistake? I found it too interesting to toss. Now I can.

Montrose is a prime area for studios to shoot movies. Our store came close to being chosen, but plans never culminated. They pay big bucks and make a big mess.

My second (and last, knock on wood) bout with gout. What you see is uric acid crystals trying to rise to the surface. Hurt like a son of a gun and took forever to heal.

Usually patriotic, I find this scene amusing when maybe I shouldn't.

Do you love this sign? Is that one hour later for opening or closing?

Mr. Bob is a tough nut to crack.

This appeared in a blog long ago. It was the view from our table as we celebrated our 49th wedding anniversary.

I may yet do a series of houses high on a hill. The idea intrigues me.

Proof that I had a droopy right eye all along. Talk about short hair!

"True nostalgia is an ephemeral composition of disjointed memories." Florence King

CHRiSTMAS GALA

2011-12-10T09:30:00.001-08:00

LAST EVENING was the Manor's Christmas party for residents, families and friends. While I stayed upstairs with my stuffy, unmedicated nose and my short hair, Mr. Bob gathered the camera and an extra battery and went down to record the festivities. He returned to our room for a few moments, long enough to report that hilarity was running high and lots of people were in attendance. I wished I could be there. Tim forgot to come, which was okay; it was the first full week that he'd worked in a long while and he was tired out.

I'm beginning to wish we had a spray of evergreen to scent the air or a wreath to hang on the shower head or something a bit seasonal to lighten our atmosphere, but we've decided it is not to be unless I get to feeling better and indulge in a decoration or two from Trader Joe's, in opposition to our decision to restrain our holiday excitement. I really dislike having to be "grown-up" and sensible. Something in me is yearning to do something wild and crazy, but a lack of stamina disallows it, at least for the moment.

Since our illnesses were diagnosed, I've been lax about keeping up on the Manor photo album, but I took Mr. Bob's photos from last night and worked up several pages, struck by how festive a color red really is. Working with it actually brightened my mood somewhat. I need to work on an attitude adjustment and I'll do it right after I put my face on for the day (Mr. Bob sometimes advises me to "make it a happy face". We'll see what today brings.)

This couple is not very happy to be in this living arrangement and they looked nearly happy last evening!

Ernie and her visiting daughter enjoy a Christmas nibble.

Carolers, borrowed from the Tam O' Shanter (or Shanty Lanterns) for the occasion........

Ms. Jane and Ms. Mary, inseparable pals, diligently look after each other.

Mr. Tom suffered a stroke and can communicate better without speech than many a wordy person. He conveys when he's happy to see you.

"Christmas is a time when you get homesick - even when you're home."
~Carol Nelson

UNDER THE WEATHER

2011-12-09T17:21:00.001-08:00

DIFFERENT DIRECTIONS

2011-12-08T11:01:00.001-08:00

USUALLY JOINED AT THE HIP, yesterday Mr. Bob and I needed to go off in different directions. It was necessary for him to head to the Cancer Center to meet with a radiologist and at the same time I had a hair appointment up the hill. So, off he went in the limo with Luis at the wheel and I headed north.

My tires seek out the ruts in the road and I can nearly put it on automatic and daydream my way for the car has traveled that route so frequently in past months. I wish I could express to you my joy at being able to drive right past the hospital with its attached medical building without the need to turn in to honor an appointment. I was nearly giddy with the idea of returning to what I deem the "real" world.

The hairdresser, Ernesto, is the eldest of 8 children and regales me with stories of his family as the kids were growing up. We laugh a lot and he always asks after Mr. Bob who used to accompany me to my appointments when he still had a driver's license.

The surgeon, when I asked, assured me that I would lose my hair through chemotherapy treatments, even giving me a catalog of wigs. The oncologist said that it might thin considerably and the 2 nurses told me that the medication I'm taking shouldn't cause hair loss. The man I really trust on this is Ernesto and he thought we should wait for a permanent to see what happens. So he cut my hair short, short, scissoring all the curly parts off and now we'll see what fresh hell this is, trying to manage my own straight hair. I should have photographed the curls they swept up off of the floor....my mother would have rescued them to dig in around her rose bushes. It was a lot.

"How can I control my life when I can't control my hair? " ~Author Unknown

Update on Mr. Bob........next Monday he'll report for radiation, 5 days a week for 7 weeks.

SEASON'S READINGS

2011-12-07T09:43:00.001-08:00

IT DOESN'T MAKE MUCH SENSE,

BUT WE'RE DOWNPLAYING

THE HOLIDAYS THIS YEAR,

WHICH WOULD HAVE MADE

MR. BOB'S LIFE EASIER

IF I'D APPROACHED IT

THIS WAY OVER THE YEARS.

I'VE TENDED TO BE THE

SUGAR PLUM FAIRY,

WEDDED TO SOMEONE

RESEMBLING

MR. GRINCH OR SCROOGE.

THERE'S MUCH FOR WHICH

TO BE THANKFUL AND

THAT'S WHERE OUR FOCUS WILL LIE.

TIME GOES SO QUICKLY THAT

IT'S HARD TO BELIEVE THAT

CHRISTMAS IS NEAR, TO BE

FOLLOWED A WEEK LATER BY

A BRAND NEW

YEAR.

"The mere brute pleasure of reading - the sort of pleasure a cow must have in grazing."

~Lord Chesterfield

AND THE NEWS IS.........

2011-12-06T14:12:00.001-08:00

WHAT WILL HE TELL US?

AND THE NEWS IS.........

ACTUALLY, it took 24 hours to find out if there's a go-ahead for Mr. Bob's radiation, but today we found out that since there seems to be no indication of a tumor on the liver, he's a good candidate. There was, after his course of chemotherapy, a remarkable improvement in the tumor in the lung, so that was good news. Even though yesterday the final answer wasn't available, we celebrated by going out to breakfast (a self granted reward......Mr. Bob would have happily returned to the Manor for a meal, but I'm the hedonist who wants to "play", once I'm out of the compound).

I know why they keep doctors' offices so cold, but it seems nearly inhumane. Our friend, Nadine, once shivered so violently waiting in the examination room that they had to bring her a blanket and a hot cup of tea. We must have waited the better part of an hour before Dr. G. appeared with the results of the CT scan.

Today it was my turn. Myra is the nurse who administers the magic medicine (why do I tend to think of it as poison? Possibly because it is?) and I'm ever grateful that I don't have to submit to the drip method, but need to have three syringes full of stuff injected into my implanted port (with tubes that go to my heart...... eeewwww!) and then I'm through. Another week of pills and then I can consider myself 1/6 of the way through with my program.

I mentioned to the doctor that I keep asking the same question without having received a satisfactory answer. How far should I go in urging Mr. Bob into physical activity and this time I was given the sanction to nag him into action. We've both lost stamina in the past months of coddling ourselves and it would be a shame if we regained our health and found ourselves unable to move.

So, up and at 'em, Mr. B.
Time's a wastin'

"Too many radiologists still believe there is a risk from a chest x-ray. Few radiologists can explain radiation to the patient in words the patient can understand."
John Cameron

WHAT WILL HE SAY?

2011-12-05T08:05:00.001-08:00

IN 20 MINUTES, we'll head to the oncologist's office to hear how successful Mr. Bob's chemotherapy treatments were. Probably not one of us could claim to like this kind of suspense. I find it nearly suffocating until I remember to breathe and relax the clench of fear in my solar plexus. There is such a thing as self mind control and that's what I'm learning to practice these days.

Too bad we couldn't have combined our appointments for I'm scheduled to go tomorrow for my treatment. I'm dressed for the cold weather (39 degrees at last report, but it'll warm up later) and feel a little like an immovable snowman, stuffed into my turtleneck, sweater and throw, barely able to move my arms. Mr. Bob has already donned his red jacket, cozy and warm and comforting even in warmer weather.

Wish us luck!

"In diagnosis think of the easy first."

Martin H. Fischer

THE CHAIR

2011-12-04T10:50:00.001-08:00

SOMETHING NEEDED TO BE DONE. After several x-rays and range of motion tests, it was determined that my shoulders had developed tendinitis. I know what caused it and I'd rather not talk about my weight this morning, thank you very much, but rising from a sitting position was wearing out my arms. When the offspring were all here it was decided that a recliner that also unseats one, would be in order. The trade has come up with the schmancy-fancy name of Luxury-Lift chairs.

There's a part of me that abhors our living quarters beginning to look like an infirmary and that's exactly what's happening. Prescription bottles here, blood pressure cuff there, oximeter hiding somewhere, the new forehead thermometer at the ready (Mr. Bob took his temperature the other evening. I was more alarmed than he at the reading of 94.4.

It turned out that he'd not removed the cover from the sensor plate........another typical Humphrey blunder......but worthy of dropping into a web log entry.)

The idea of adding an orthopedic chair to our living room decor didn't particularly appeal to me, but the majority won and Susan, Chris and Bob drove to a La-Z-Boy showroom. Tim was working that day, but I would have valued his opinion. From there, they sent me pictures of possibilities and I yayed or nayed them. What was delivered in a few days wasn't at all what I was anticipating and it took me some time to figure out how to work it, much to the hilarity of Owen who watched from his home up north.

Of course, with an audience, I played it for all it's worth.

With a little practice I did learn to sit in it correctly although I'm suffering with the learning curve of finding out what makes it go up as opposed to going down, trying to reason with I want to get UP which can be interpreted as I want the chair to go DOWN because I want to get UP. Haven't mastered it yet and I should be ashamed to admit that to you, but at this stage of life there should be no secrets, don't you agree?

I'm getting better at it and my true confession is that I'll have to admit that it's pretty darned comfortable even if it looks like "old folks at home". That's what we are, after all.

"The great secret that all old people share is that you really haven't changed in seventy or eighty years. Your body changes, but you don't change at all. And that, of course, causes great confusion." ~Doris Lessing

AUTUMN BEFORE THE FALL

2011-12-03T15:12:00.001-08:00

THE WINDS WERE HEAVY ENOUGH THE OTHER NIGHT FOR NEWS OF THE DESTRUCTION TO REACH AS FAR AS ALASKA. OUR COMMUNITY WAS FORTUNATE.....A FENCE DOWN HERE, FALLEN BRANCHES THERE. IN OUR NEIGHBORHOOD IT BLEW ALL THE BEAUTIFUL LEAVES OFF OF THE TREES AND NOW IT FEELS AS THOUGH WINTER IS TRULY HERE.

SOME NEIGHBORING CITIES ARE STILL WITHOUT POWER.

THIS YEAR'S AUTUMN BEAUTY IS BUT A MEMORY.

REMEMBERING OUaT

2011-12-02T11:21:00.001-08:00

I HOPE YOU DON'T WEARY of my frequent references to the bookshop we owned from 1966 until we sold it in 2003. It comprised nearly half of my life so thoughts of it often arise. The subject popped up again when I opened my email on Thanksgiving morning and found a letter from Lynne, a long time customer who morphed into being a friend as did so many people who chose to shop at our independent bookstore.

The contents of her email warmed my heart. Not everyone who shopped with us, "got it", understood what we were really about. I've always insisted that I was simply the channel through which an idea expressed which is getting rather esoteric but some folks really seemed to grasp the essence of the enterprise, more than others. Lynne was one of those. Henceforth, her words:

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

At this very moment, many people are thinking of you two and how much you have meant to them over the years* and how interesting you both are, in your individual ways. It's such a hard time for you right now, and we shuffle about, awkwardly, not knowing what to do. So I'm writing to say, "Hey! Over here! I'm thinking fond thoughts of you two" and also "Happy Thanksgiving", my friends.

*****

All those days at Once Upon a Time are so clear to me. The dear, well-chosen books. The different areas of delight. The cards which were such treasures. The very air.

One day, Jane, you needed a person to help, and let me come in a take someone's shift. I remember walking around the shop, dusting the already-dusted shelves and touching each book, trying to keep them alphabetized or at least not upside down.I fluffed up the plush animals and put little book-character figures into amusing poses. In short, I was no help at all. Yet in return, you gifted me with a delicious volume of Mary Oliver which I treasure to this day.

Mr. Bob brought his debonaire manners and flashed his twinkley eyes, and made me chuckle the first time we met. We were conversing about that fabulous screen door which I still want. What exactly was funny, I have no memory of, but Bob, you sure made me laugh out loud, and it was clear why Jane had fallen for you.

I remember bringing cousins and friends to the shop because it was such a treat just to be there. First off, many folks weren't that interested in going to a children's bookshop...they thought! But when I brought them in, then they saw and experienced what you provided. The child's desk. The window displays. The special books for adults. They became filled with delight and wanted to return again and again, as I did.

One year, I got a notice in the mail about a "Bridge" group. What a truly delicious idea! And it was just at the point I'd made myself decide to actually DO something more, socially, not merely talk about it. Oh, I was so scared to go! But Bob and Jane, you made me, you made us, so comfortable and welcome. One of your biggest gifts to me was of my friends Nancy and Michael Coler, whom I met there at Bridge Club. And then, there were all those wonderful Sunday evenings, lanterns lit in the sweet flower-filled backyard night! Sometimes I'd walk out into your garden, look toward your house and see those fascinating folks and think, This must be something like Heaven. And it was.

This Thanksgiving, I want to express how grateful I am for knowing both of you, quirky, generous, and inventive folks that you are!

Tomorrow, I hope you can enjoy that turkey and dressing.

Fondly,

Lynne"

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

A note of explanation about the Bridge Club to which Lynne referred. For six months we hosted a weekly Open House on Sunday evenings, thinking of it as a "bridge" from the carefree weekend, back to the workaday world on the next day. There was no card playing involved. It was a relaxed, "come if you can, come as you are" sort of thing and there was never a Sunday without anyone showing up. We provided beverages, guests brought something on which to nibble. We disbanded because the urge to travel posed the problem of how to notify everyone who might show up that we wouldn't be in town, so it seemed simpler to stop, but in one way or another the people who attended let us know how much they missed the event.

And one last picture of Once Upon a Time for now. Mr. Bob has a reputation for being an easy sleeper. As I write this at 12:26 p.m., he's back into bed, snoozing away and it's time for our dinner. Should I wake him for sustenance or let him sleep on? That's the biggest dilemma I'm faced with these days.