Halloween

For once we actually had a lot of Trick Or Treaters. There are years when we have less than 20, and this year we had 73 kids. Many of them were Bear's pals from the neighborhood school bus stops, and they were very glad to see Bear sitting in the front hall, patiently waiting until he could safely go sit and guard the candy basket again. (Mustn't let the kitty get near the candy!)
It was a nice day for Halloween today. Sunny, but turned cool and cloudy by afternoon. The North wind was nippy as the little goblins made their rounds.
We had the usual assortment of cute little bees, monkeys, and teddy bears. We also had the requisite witches, vampires, pirates, princesses, at least one bride, and lots of hockey mask wearing scary guys. (Who were really too short to be very scary, but I didn't tell them that.)
I had one very polite little man in a Batman mask who asked if he could "have a Butterfinger bar, please." Of course I gave him one, though his mother was aghast that he had asked for a specific thing instead of being happy with what he got. He did say thank you, and he asked so very politely for the Butterfinger. I think such civility in a child (who was five at the most) should be reinforced and rewarded.
I am sending the small amount of leftover candy off to fatten up Matt's coworkers. We don't need the temptation of all those extra calories around here. (I really shouldn't have made the free form apple pie this evening, but it was a whole wheat pastry and generally less unhealthy than my usual apple pie. We will have pie for two days at least.)
Now I have to change all the calendars in the house. (There are quite a few, I like time keeping devices) The time change this weekend will be time consuming. I really like clocks, you see. We also have to change the batteries in all the smoke detectors and carbon monoxide detectors. (We are also paranoid about safety, so there are several of those devices, as well.)
There really isn't a whole lot to write about at the moment, or at least there isn't much that wants to be written. Too many other things want to be done right now.

Shopping Day

Today was my major grocery shopping day. I do this only once a month, the rest of the month I just pick up whatever perishables we run out of, like milk or salad greens.

I go to the Commissary at Tinker Air Force Base. My husband is retired from the Air Force, and we enjoy this benefit among others because of his long years of service. Things are not always cheaper at the commissary, but more things are than not, and I am not one who will drive all over town (wasting gasoline) to hunt for bargains at several different stores.

The local stores in Moore still make plenty off of us because there are some new things I want to try that the commissary is lagging behind on getting. Also, most over the counter medicines and beauty products are more readily available and cheaper at local stores. I also buy my milk locally because the commissary doesn't carry the brand of skim milk that I really like.

This time I managed to stick to my list at the commissary and at the Walmart Neighborhood Market, and so came in under my grocery budget. No small feat these days. Even with many items that are rather costly that I don't buy very often, I stayed under the max budget. Not so long ago, that didn't happen often. I have increased the budget, but the amount I spent today would have been under the old budget as well. Food prices have gone up, so I guess our more health conscious diet is also cheaper. (Less processed and junk food items.)
I did make a major purchase of Halloween candy, but it IS that time of year, and there were lots of good sales at the commissary on stuff I had coupons for. Trick or treaters in our neighborhood will luck out. I also got my pumpkin for $1.99.

Today is also the day I get out our gasoline money and spending money. Ouch. The gas money has taken a bigger bite this year than ever. We usually have some left over, but we hang on to it because we never know when gas will go up yet again. Central Oklahoma, like many urban/suburban areas in this country, has no discernible public transportation system. If you are going to get to work, or run errands, you have to have a car. (Or be a senior citizen. Here in Moore, they have a pick-up/drop-off service that takes folks to doctor visits, the library, shopping, the beauty parlor/barber shop, etc.)

All in all a pretty satisfactory day. My husband even installed a new firewall on my computer and cleaned up some files and got everything running really well while I was making dinner, and then he cleaned up the dishes for me. He's pretty useful. Think I'll keep him.

Of Parades, Homemade Pizza, and Yet More Laundry

Today was the Red Ribbon Parade in Moore. This is an annual event to show support for the Drug Abuse Resistance Education program. The kids make floats and so do many community agencies and businesses. It is a large, community wide event that snakes through "Old Town" Moore to the high school.
Bear and I walked again this year, once again helping Julie and her Corgi, Molly, carry the banner.
Molly got too tired partway through and rode the last bit in the van, but Bear was rarin' to go the whole time, and making friends all along the route. He seems to enjoy seeing all the kids and getting petted and talked to.
The commentators as usual made fun of poor Molly. She's a Corgi, so she's short. They also made fun of our purple banner, t-shirts, and van. They said something like "Your Pioneer Library System, connecting you to the joy of reading and lifelong learning.... and they REALLY like purple!"
I guess it is kind of corny, but the parade is one of our town's oldest and happiest traditions. It is how we know for sure when the first really cold morning will be. They usually happen on or near Red Ribbon Saturday. It is a chance for all the kids in the area to be in a parade or see a parade. They don't do one at holiday time because so many other towns do, and this one is all about the kids. The participants hand out candy, so many kids go to the parade instead of trick or treating on Halloween. (They probably get more candy, if they are in the right part of the parade route.) It is always heartwarming to hear how many of the people cheer for the library. They are so happy to see us coming up the street, they like the dogs, of course, they all giggle at "Jessica" our mascot riding in the convertible, and of course the big purple van that brings the delivery of books and other materials to each library daily. (So, if you ordered a book from another branch, that van brings it, and the kids know that.) It helps that our Friends of the Library group is so generous with the candy every year. The Friends ladies are very popular with crowds along the way. We are also one place in town that almost everybody has been, and they really enjoy seeing us in the parade.

We are having homemade pizza today. The dough is in the refrigerator. I still have to make the sauce. I decided it would be a good thing to do since I have pepperoni and cheese that need to be used. I really like pizza from an Italian restaurant better, but I don't feel like going out after walking (quite literally) all over town this morning.
I use a pizza recipe from the Betty Crocker Italian Cookbook. (I know, Betty Crocker isn't exactly an Italian household name, but the cookbook was written by Anthony Cecceoni, so the recipes are actually Italian. ) The pizza usually comes out pretty good, and we always have plenty leftover to freeze for lunches or snacks.


The laundry once again awaits. It is Saturday, so the laundry must be done. The sorting is the hardest part. Once I get that over with, the rest of it comes along in smaller, more easily digested chunks of work. Alas, getting started sorting is the hardest part. I think after the pizza is made and consumed I will get to the laundry.

I just found out there is a new Mitford novel out. Guess I better get to BOMC web site and order it. Those I collect. Most of my other series novels I have started just getting from the library due to space concerns, but I re-read the Mitford books from time to time, so I like to have my own copies. I also have all the Harry Potter books. There shouldn't be any more of those to worry about finding space for.

This has been a pleasant way to spend time while the pizza dough rests and rises again, but I think I am out of things to write and out of time.

Lapses Happen

As with all my journals, this one has suffered its first lapse. I grant you, it is only one day, but that is usually how the downhill slide starts. One little thing at a time, and before you know it, the new behavior is history. Much like diet and exercise programs.

So much I could write about, let's see...
I got my flu shot this morning at the drive through clinic hosted by the local humongous Baptist Church. The health department runs the flu shot program, the church just supplies space and some volunteers. The city has supplied a couple of traffic officers to help keep people lined up correctly on the approach to the church. (Otherwise we'd have folks trying to cut the line without realizing exactly how many people they are cutting off. You can't see the whole line if you come eastbound on 27th. The line starts almost back at Eastern and goes west.)

Another thing I could write about is the fact that we are awaiting the delivery of some audio recording equipment so that we can make CDs of our singing for family who have requested them. It will definitely be a learning process. I hope that Matt doesn't get too carried away as time goes on and buy too many extras that we don't really need. Like all of us with our hobbies, he tends to do that. I am sure the delivery will come when no one is home, and Matt will have to drive out somewhere to pick it up. (He seems convinced that they will leave it on the porch, and I rather hope not, as it will be a large box, and it may be more than the local teens could resist.)
Most kids around here are really good kids, but there are a few I wonder about.

Choir rehearsal was last night, and he started us off with pieces that had some rather high notes for unwarmed up sopranos. Needless to say, we were all a bit flat and strangled sounding for awhile. (He really should have been expecting that!) I think he thinks we all warm up before we get there, but that almost never happens. Trying to get home from work, get dinner taken care of, the cleanup done, it doesn't leave a whole lot of time for warming up the voice before peeling out the door to get to choir on time.

Tonight it is my turn to work the 1-9 shift. I get to help close the library. Thursdays are always a joy that way. Oh, well, here's hoping everybody has somewhere else to be so they won't be hanging around the library right around 9pm. It can be very hard to get rid of them so we can go home. It is a long day for many of us, and I guess people just don't think about it. They've been home, so they don't think about those of us who would like to get home so we can relax a bit.
Guess I better go pack my lunch bag so I'll have something to eat this afternoon.

A Blank Page is a Blank Page

Even if it is electronic and on a computer screen, a blank page remains the intimidating large expanse of emptiness.
One sits down with all sorts of ideas about what one MIGHT write, and they are all scared away by the large, imposing blankness.
My grand ideas flee away at the first sight of the white (or whatever color) paper or screen before me. I will sit down with a good intent and a purpose, and the blankness transfers from the page or screen to my brain. All I had thought of is gone. Chased away, absorbed, erased, I don't know, but gone, for sure.
Tonight I am so weary I can hardly think at all, let alone think STRAIGHT.
I don't know why I should be so weary. My legs ache and I feel sleepy all the time. I did stand a lot at work today, but I always do. I didn't do any extra exercise or anything that would tire me out. Hope I am not coming down with the bug du jour from the library.
Little children are often quite generous with their germs. They sneeze on us, the books, our computers and anything else they get close to.
The grownups aren't a whole lot better. The bring a stack of books to the desk explaining that they are late and they want to pay the fines. "Oh, I was so sick, I just didn't want to go anywhere, even here to drop off my books. " Thanks so much, I think as I grab the disinfectant wipes to clean off the books. Is it any wonder we library employees are among the first in line every year when the county starts giving flu shots? Is it any wonder we go through so many packages of wipes and hand sanitizer every year? Don't forget all the antibacterial hand soap for the bathrooms.
On a totally different, completely off the wall topic, how can we convince Mike Rowe that the library is just full of dirty jobs? Gee, I guess we could let him clean out the outside book drop, or follow our building custodian around. The sheer, subtle volume of human grime does get to you after awhile, though. The books can be quite dirty. That is one reason we clean them from time to time. The children's books especially. (Come on, you know you let the books get on the floor of the car with heaven only knows what else. Everybody has done it at least once.)
Sorting through the damaged materials with my boss is a dirty job. Literally and figuratively. She has to call the person whose book has come back covered in some substance we charitably decide must be lemon Kool-Aid. The book is no longer fit to circulate, and so the patron must be charged for the book which was damaged while they were responsible for it. This can get dirty, because people like to get a bit self righteous about how they treat books. (Usually their kids are in the background saying things like "That's the book Billy fished out of the toilet." or "That's the book Timmy spilled his Kool-Aid on.") Rule number one: If you are going to fib on the phone to a library employee, don't have your young children nearby. They know all, and they share all.
Maybe Mike Rowe could follow our building maintenance guys around. They have to maintain all the city's buildings, and so they are a couple of really busy guys. Quite often dirty guys, too.
The real reason I'd like to get Mike Rowe to the library is that maybe I could get him to sing some opera. I know a few arias myself, and the staff like music. Some of the other ladies would just like him around to improve the scenery. Maybe we should suggest it to him. You never know, they might bite.

Time Flies

I registered on the website for my high school graduating class' 30th reunion today.
Boy, that just doesn't seem possible. How could it have been 30 years already?
Maybe I don't notice the time passing so much because I don't have kids of my own, but geez, that just can't be right. 30 years.
That makes me, um, middle aged.
(If I live to be over 90.)
There is a page at the site that lists classmates who are no longer with us. One of them is a guy I sat next to in alphabetical order since 8th grade. I sat next to him at eighth grade graduation, and again at high school graduation, and in many homeroom classes besides. It is very strange to think that he isn't out there still, waiting to get stuck with me in alphabetical order again. (Wouldn't happen now anyway, I've been married into a different part of the alphabet for 23 years now.)

I guess when you haven't seen people for years, you tend to think of them as being the same as the last time you saw them. So, all my friends from high school who haven't stayed in touch are still about 18 in my mind. Similarly, my students from my one full time class are still about 8 to me, even though I know they are in their 30s now, just like my nieces who were born the same year they were. I haven't seen them, so, they are still kids in my memory.
I wonder how many people still think of me as a much younger version of myself? I doubt my siblings do, really, but most of them haven't seen me lately, and they always kind of treated me like I was still a little kid even after I became an adult. Most of the people who were already adults when I was little are probably either not around anymore or can't remember that far back. Thank God my Mom is still around. She remembers, and she treats me like I'm a grown up. She knows me too well. We are much alike in many ways. I inherited many of my phobias from her, but I have my Pop's tendency to blow up and get stuff out of my system instead of holding onto it forever like Mom tends to.
Still, I just can't believe it has been so long since high school. Some days that feels like it happened to someone else, other days I feel like I'll wake up and have to head for my morning Art class again. (Hello Mr. Boyer, wherever you are! To this day I think of rubber cement as Elephant Snot because of you, and now there is a class full of kids who were mine in second grade who call it that, too.)
Time to climb back out of the nostalgia machine and get back to the 21st century, I guess.

Evensong

The day is fading in the West
Our weary souls and bodies wait for rest
But to Your house, O Lord we come
To raise our voices in Evensong.
We sing Magnifcat, and Nunc Dimittis
And O Gracious Light
To ask that you, Lord, remain with us
Through the darkness of the night.

We did indeed go to Evensong this evening, and sang in the choir. We had guest musicians, a trumpet player and an organist, both professors at a local university. The music was lovely.
Afterwards, a few of us choristers had an impromptu birthday party for one of our own in the parking lot. A man walked up (we are in the middle of downtown after all,) and asked for phone call money to call his sister to get some gas 'cause he ran out. We looked at him and decided he probably wasn't going to use it for booze or drugs, so we gave him some of the cider we were drinking, some birthday cake, AND phone call change, plus a few bucks in case his sister couldn't bail him out with gas. Hey, it was a Church parking lot, after all, and we are His representatives, like it or not. This sort of thing happens a lot in Oklahoma. People help each other out. If the person looks too obviously in need of love that does not involve cash to support a destructive habit, we can hook them up with St. George's Guild, which will see to their material needs and help them get help for their bigger problems, too. Nearly all folks in Oklahoma will do that. Most go to church, and know where to refer people for help if they fear cash gifts would only make the situation worse instead of really helping. Of course, you kind of have to have a radar for dangerous people. You don't want to get involved in a situation that could endanger yourself or others. Most folks around Oklahoma, at least in my experience, have been pretty tame, and usually just like this guy, they ran up against an unlucky circumstance, like they ran out of gas or something.
In other happenings, the weather is cooling off again. A brisk wind is blowing out of the North, bringing cooler temperatures, and granting us a chance to open the windows and air the place out.
My brother was on TV last week. (Well, PBS Wired Science). I just found out when he emailed me tonight. I got to watch it online. Pretty cool. He still looks good. Haven't seen him in a long time. (That happens when your family is all over the country. I keep telling my family that I am centrally located here in Oklahoma, and they can always come by on their way someplace else. It has been way too long since I have seen them all.) This is the brother that I tell people is MY big brother and nobody else's. He is, after all. He was the baby for 12 years and then I came along. He's a pretty cool big brother. Even if we did fight a lot when I was little and he was home from college. He taught me how to identify tools, and read the numbers on sockets and wrenches. I could tell a crescent wrench from an adjustable from a "dog bone" from an early age. And I could be counted on to find the right size, because my sister taught me to read before I was 3. I could also identify many parts of an engine that other girls didn't know anything about because Walt let me "help" him when he worked on cars, and he patiently answered a lot of silly questions. (Pop did, too, but I remember pestering Walt the most.)
Well, that's about enough out of me tonight. Voice lesson tomorrow!

Laundry and Other Weekend Chores

Today has been laundry day, as my Saturdays all too often are lately. I don't mind too much because I have a nice washer and dryer right here in my house. Whenever I am tempted to feel grumpy about having to get up and run deal with another load of laundry, I remind myself of what a drag it was (literally and figuratively) to have to go to the laundromat. I only had to do that for a little while, when we were in Germany because the part for the washer we had was being sent from Stuttgart, and it took its sweet time getting to the greater Frankfurt area.
My current washer and dryer were also made in Stuttgart, by the same company, but are sold in this country by Sears. I love my front load washer and the large capacity dryer. They use less water and less energy than my old machines, and yes, they are very conveniently located in my laundry room down the hall from the bedroom.
This was also lawn mowing day. This chore has usually been mine instead of my husband's because for a lot of our marriage, he just plain wasn't home. (Do you speak Air Force? Can you say TDY? ) He'd be home long enough to wash all his clothes and be gone again. (Cargo haulers have such a glamorous life!) So, yours truly became the lawn and yard care crew. I can clip hedges and mulch lawns with the best of them. These days, Matt will help with the edging and etc, but I'd rather keep him away from the dust and pollen. His allergies are so bad that he won't be able to sing on Sunday if he works in the yard too much on Saturday.
Anyway, all that is to get me to this point. I have been incredibly dense where my convertible lawnmower is concerned. All the years we've had it, I haven't liked using the bagging mode (necessary in Fall for leaf control) because you have to dump the bag out through the same place it goes into the mower (Or so I thought) and it takes forever because it clogs up. Well, today by chance I noticed that the back (read large) end of the bag opens for emptying. Gee, that sure is easier to deal with! How come I never noticed this before, and how come I don't remember seeing anything about that in the manual? (I ALWAYS read manuals for machinery and appliances. Life is much easier when you know the directions.)
We also washed both cars today. They really needed it. They are supposed to be white, but they had become that shade I can only describe as "Oklahoma Beige". It is what happens when a fine layer of red Oklahoma dust is deposited on a white surface. I always think of my Focus station wagon as a small car until I have to wash it. It is so much taller than our Escort wagon was. I have to stand on a stool to wash the top.
At least now it and the Taurus are white again, and I don't need to be afraid to get too close to the car when wearing my good clothes.
At any rate, my dryer is imperiously requesting my presence in the laundry room, so I guess that will be all for today.

Endings and Beginnings

This month I have sung at two funerals. Both times as part of a choir. These two services were very different, but both were very emotional. The first was the funeral of the son of a friend. This young man was the victim of a random, senseless accident. This was a shocking and very painful death. Yet the service was uplifting, an affirmation of his life and an acknowledgement of his family's pain.
The second was for the 90 year old father of a friend. This was a peaceful end, more or less expected, but still not welcome for those who love him. The part of the service we sang for was at the graveside, and what a peaceful and beautiful place and day for it. This was a sad farewell, but not a wrenching one.
These endings are also new beginnings for both families. They have to get used to life now without their loved ones being around. They have gone for their rest, and we believe we will see them by and by when we go to ours, and that we will all have new life one day.
This time of year is also a time of endings and beginnings. All of nature is winding down, waiting for its winter nap, and the new life to come in spring.
At work, we have people leaving, people changing jobs, and new hires coming in.
In my music studies, I have finished the recital pieces, time to move on to new things and maybe some Christmas things in preparation for the next recital.
Our newspaper carrier is quitting after years of loyal and dependable service. Next month a new carrier starts. One wonders if the newspaper will indeed be waiting every day as it has been for so many years.
I guess this all boils down to life being about change. In case you haven't noticed, to live means to change, grow, evolve, become something new, learn something new or die. Even in death, many of us believe that we go on to a new life, to learn even more new things. If we know that life means things change, why then do we resist change so much? We all long for the days of childhood, when our routines seemed written in stone, we KNEW what would happen and when, and there were few if any major bumps in our roads. (At least my childhood was pretty much that way, your mileage will surely vary.)
When we get used to a certain situation, way of doing things, group of people, place, we don't want things to change. We are comfortable. We don't want the discomfort of change.
Yet we often find that the changed situation is better, more interesting, easier to deal with, than the one we clung to so desperately.
I find myself to be resistant to change, but to go with the flow when I must. I am used to it at work, the library world changes constantly. Procedures, shelving locations, call formats, all these change all the time. My personal world, though, I like to have the same because it makes me feel in control of something. This is an illusion, and deep down I know it, but it's my illusion, and I want to keep it.
Just my random thoughts on change.

When Will Fall Fall?

That is the question around here these days. The days are getting shorter, but not a whole lot cooler. Fall is usually the most pleasant time in Oklahoma. The air is crisp, but not freezing, the skies are usually very blue, and the leaves on the trees start to turn colors and fall.
The weather people are forecasting cooler temperatures soon, but it still feels too warm out to me.
I haven't had to put the blanket on the bed yet, the quilt is still enough. (By winter, I will have flannel sheets, a blanket, a heated mattress pad, and the quilt on the bed. We turn the heat down at night to save energy.)
I have always enjoyed the Autumn season. Autumn colors look good on me and make me feel good. I use a lot of those sorts of colors around the house. Unfortunately, I like to cook a lot in the Fall, and I don't need the calories. There are so many dishes that I get inspired to try this time of year. Casseroles and stews, soups, breads, things to make you warm and comfortable.

The sad part of Autumn is putting the garden to bed for its winter sleep. Having to say goodbye for now to the roses and mums, and hope the winter freezes don't kill all the herbs. (If I can get the pots they are in to a sheltered spot and remember to keep them watered, they'll be all right.)
This is also the time to start holiday preparations. In my case, that means rehearsing Christmas music. I also ought to make something for gift giving , but I have about used up my repertoire of easy projects that make acceptable small gifts.
Ah, well. Something will come to me, I'm sure.
This was my night to work closing shift at the library, so I am rather worn out at this point. We got a lot accomplished, but I am still weary from it.

Thoughts on a stormy Wednesday

This is my first attempt at blogging. I have been around computers and the Internet since about 1993. It has all grown and changed so quickly that it makes me feel my age. (My web page, which URL shall remain obscure for now, is more than 10 years out of date. )
I do, in fact, sing. I am a lyric soprano, which means I sing a lot of operatic arias written for characters whose names end in -ina. (Zerlina, Serpina, etc.) I have recently sung Dove Sono from Marriage of Figaro. That is the Contessa's big aria. I am surprised I survived. It is a real workout for someone who sings as a hobby instead of a profession or sacred calling.
My sacred calling used to be elementary education, but it is now library customer service. (My credential expired and it was cheaper to go to work at the library than to try and renew an old California credential in Oklahoma. Besides, the library is lots less stress and probably pays better by the hour when you count all the extra work teachers do.)
I enjoy working in the library. Our customers are priceless. Since Moore is really a small town masquerading as a big suburb, we get to know quite a few of our customers. We find ourselves worrying about the older ones if we go awhile without seeing them, we marvel at how fast every body's kids are growing up, and we sympathize with every body's troubles.
I also enjoy the fact that our system gives us discretion to waive fines for those customers who have had a serious family situation arise. It is very gratifying to be able to lift at least the small burden of library fines for folks who have bigger worries on their minds.
I was hoping to think of something witty to say today, but the weather (dreary, stormy) has sapped my creative energy. I also seem to have a headache for some reason, most likely my sinuses. (Why do singers always have allergies and lousy sinuses? Every singer I know (in Oklahoma, anyway) has allergy/sinus trouble.)
So, anyway, here I am getting my feet wet in the blog world. I hope the quality improves as time goes by. Often I am all written out because I also keep pen and ink journals and poetry workbooks. Those are sadly neglected lately, alas.