The First Lady

I should post this on my Lotta Torres blog, but I'm not. It's not really nasty but may seem so and not really political, regardless of what you may think when you read it.

It's about Michelle Obama. I find her to be an attractive woman. However, after four years of having to, as in being required to because they are so visible, appreciate her arms--she does not wear sleeves, you know--I am tired of it.

Now we are required to love her bangs. Right? The media people seem to love them. "She's a trendsetter." And stuff like that. Bangs are in because of her. Again. I had them when I was 11.

I mean, there's no mistaking them for a mistake. They are bangs, and how. I don't like them and don't think they suit her. Putting it politely.

So there.

Two bits

My friend who says "coherse" and "kioss" is making an afghan. At least, I think so. We spoke of crocheting and knitting and came to the subject of afghans. An afghan is what I started many years ago and haven't finished. I hasten to add that I had made others and finished them.

But to the point.

My friend's large crocheted work that she also has not finished is, in her word, an afigan. I have heard these things called africans, but hers is not that. It's an afigan. I know because she said it three times in the course of our conversation.

You think I'm a word snob. Well, maybe. I think I just enjoy this kind of stuff.

*     *     *

I went over to Caldwell Thursday to visit my friend. No one in the house. She and her husband are gone on a mission. Minnesota or Michigan, said her neighbor.

Okay. I'm happy for them and hope for the best. It's what he has wanted to do--he's a restless guy, you know--and so she has told me she wanted it also but not as much as he did. Of course, he wanted to go back to Russia, but the Church said no. Because of her.

The neighbor said, "She's not entirely well, you know."

I said, "I know. How is she?"

"Well," said the neighbor, "except for her dementia she's in good health."

On this mission they are supposed to be inseparable. That should mean she'll be safe. But perhaps he doesn't know how important that constant togetherness is for her just now.

It seems he went to the hospital for surgery a couple of months ago. He was gone a night or two, left her in the house alone, and didn't tell her. Or he told her and she forgot.  First night she roamed the neighborhood looking for him. Good thing a friend found her, took her home, and stayed the night until she (the friend) could get in touch with their son next day and find out what was up. Their son seemed irritated at the interference of the friend. I say, you're lucky she was there.

So, about this mission, she's the one with dementia, but I hope he remembers the inseparable part.

Things mildly important

It's Tuesday.

This morning two robins were hopping and pecking around my front yard. They cheered me some. Still cold, but the robins are back. This is good.

Across the street several starlings were pushing each other out of the way, trying to get at food, of course. 

I wonder what these birds know, I said to myself as I drove away. I hope. I hope. I hope this means what I hope it means.

It's afternoon now, and guess what. That's right. It's snowing.

Maybe it's just a skiff. Nothing serious. I'll let you know.

*     *     *

Related subject.

This winter has seemed long, and we did receive much more snow than usual. I don't like driving in it, especially since the snow removal folks don't know there are people back here, just off Boise Avenue. And our street had lots of snow on it for lots of weeks.

So I have thought about getting a car with all-wheel drive. I have thought about it.

Then I went online and looked at what my 7 1/2 year-old car is worth and thought I'd better keep it. It's worth $11,000 to $17,000. 

It's not new, but it's a good car. I like it. It does have front-wheel drive.

Maybe next winter will be milder.

*     *     *

P.S.

In the time it took to write this post the snow stopped falling. Oh joy! 

You just can't tell

I don't suppose I have anything to do with it. Not really.

But just yesterday, when we had blue sky, sunshine and 53 degrees. When I didn't even take a jacket with me. When every road I drove was clear, and the last little patch of white melted off my front lawn, I said to myself, "I think we're done with snow."

Wrong.

Snow is predicted for Tuesday. I don't know how much and I don't need to say any is too much, because here's how much I want. Not any.

I am certainly not alone in these sentiments. It's what people all over Boise have been saying. "Sick of this winter. Had enough."

So, if that's the way you feel, and if I did have something to do with it, I am so sorry.

Think this one over

I like Phil Mickelsen. He is not my idol, but I like him, and I like what he said the other day.

Here's the backstory.
Last week he won a golf tournament, his 41st or something like that. This week he didn't. In fact, he almost didn't make the cut. I watched him shoot a triple bogey on the 18th hole Saturday. That's pretty bad. When his game was finished, they interviewed him. Here's something close to what he said, the part I liked.

"I play to win. I'm not afraid of failure. I've failed many times, but I always play to win."

I think that means he doesn't play cautiously. He takes the chance.

I don't play golf, but I want to play to win, so to speak. I want to go for it, whatever it is, and take the chance. And I don't think it's too late.

What you might hear at the hairdresser's

Had my hair done today. Here's what I heard.

My hairdresser was talking to another customer about drinking, as in alcohol, and how young people are being led to believe that wine is good for them, and they should drink it. Both of them disapproved of that idea. So do I, but I said nothing because I wasn't part of the conversation.

As they continued to talk, they began commenting on the behavior of people who drink too much, or who get drunk. My hairdresser said, "I always say, 'That's when you're the smartest you'll ever be--when you have a few drinks in you.'"

Then they recounted the story of the 18-year old freshman at U of I who got drunk last month at a frat party, tried to walk home, and was found the next morning under a bridge. He got lost and froze to death.

The other customer told this story. Two friends went to U of I--it has a reputation as a drinking school, in case you didn't know. The two friends, girls, both entered fully into that life style, but before very long one of the girls decided that was not the life she wanted, so she quit drinking. Her friend tried many times to get her to start drinking again, without success. Finally, she said, "You're no fun any more since you don't drink." Her friend said, "Funny, I think you're no fun any more because you do drink."

You think it's a small thing

I have winter thumbs, and they hurt. You know, the skin splits, and those splits are deep and constantly irritated. Try not using your thumbs. Can't do it.

I have put vaseline and bandaids on the splits overnight, but in the morning it starts all over again.

I've put clear nail polish on the splits, and you may not know it but that burns. Last night I did both
treatments, and my thumbs throbbed all night. My next plan is to go ask a pharmacist what is available for such an ailment. I'll let you know.

Update: Sad to say my pharmacist, a nice young man with a lot of hair, could only say, "That looks sore. But I don't see any infection."

As for remedies, he knew of none.

I am using liquid bandage, something I showed him--$7.19 at my SavOn Pharmacy in the Alberstons store near my home, by the way. I drove to Winco and bought the same stuff for $2.83.

I have applied it. Hope it helps. Will also go online and look for Palmer's cocoa butter.

Oh Brother!

Today is the 100 year Rosa Parks birth anniversary. Learn how to be a true leader

This from WikiHow. Okay, I'll remember Rosa Parks with respect. But do you think I'm going to let WikiHow teach me about leadership? Pretty funny, since last week they were going to teach me how to blow a bubble with bubble gum and, before that, how to eat chocolate seductively.

So helpful. Oh yes, WikiHow is my handbook for life.