The Occasional Blogger? The Lazy Blogger?

 I thought for sure when I did the first post from San Francisco I would do one a day.  Well...As my title suggests, perhaps I should rename this blog "The Occasional Blogger" or "The Lazy Blogger."  I mentioned in the previous post that we went to San Francisco on Thursday of last week.  There are several bridges to cross to get there.  This particular bridge is the Oakland Bridge that was damaged in the earthquake of 1989.  The crane in the water beside it is massive.  I don't know when the completion is scheduled, but the traffic moves along quite nicely.

 My wonderful hosts took me to the top of Twin Peaks to see San Francisco from above.  There was quite a UN there, must have been a tour bus of French tourists.  I loved listening to the French, wanting to say "Bonjour" or "Comment ca va?"  We even talked to a fellow who had been in Tampa for a while working, so we gave up a thumbs up for the Rays.  You do know who the Rays are, don't you?  They have clinched a spot in the playoffs...go Rays!

 Then on we went through a lovely park until we came to this lovely Dutch windmill.  There was a lovely garden there.  A gardener was pruning and trimming the hollyhocks.  He said in another week those would come out and a new planting would go in.

 Then on to lunch we went at the Cliff House.  In my previous post I put a link to the Cliff House that tells the history of it.  We sat right by the window, overlook Seal Rock and the Pacific.  In the distance we could see container ships in a row waiting to come in to port.

 The last destination of the day was the Golden Gate Bridge.  I guess no one could go to San Francisco without seeing it.  We took a ride under the bridge where Fort Point is located.  Dave's father was with the army in San Francisco and was responsible for the fort being part of the park system, preserved for future generations to be able to visit.

As you can see from the poster and the photo, it is a quite imposing structure.  The cannons and cannonballs are there as they were years ago.  I believe Dave said that they were never fired.  It reminded me of the fort at St.Augustine, not in looks, but its purpose.  I have photos of David as a little boy sitting on the cannons at St. Augustine, but these all had signs requesting that no one sit on them.

As we came out, this sign was pointed out to me.  Runners like to come and touch their hands here so that their fingerprints are there and they can prove they've been there

And, of course, the dogs run too, so there is a place for their paw prints.

It was neat to see this all with someone who had such a personal interest in this city, and in particular, the fort.  I even came home with a piece of the bridge.  Dave said when work was done on the bridge and rivets were replaced, they would drop the old ones into the fort.  His dad picked them up and stored them.  I was given one of them as a reminder of my trip there.  So, I didn't leave my heart in San Francisco. I brought a little piece of it home with me.

Thanks, Sue and Dave, for a most memorable day.

San Francisco

The other day on FB I mentioned that I was giving myself a birthday present of a gift to California.  For some years now, I have been a follower of Photowannabe, a delightful lady who lives near Sacramento.  Through blogging comments and photos, we have realized we have so much in common and we talked about how nice it would be to get together.

A couple of weeks ago, I took the bull by the horns and wrote her and asked if it would be possible to come out so that we could meet.  She agreed it would be a good idea, and so on Wednesday, I flew into the Sacramento airport and met Sue and her husband. 

Let me tell you, it is a long ride from Tampa to Sacramento.  On the flight from Atlanta to Sacramento I had a window seat which was not my preference, but that was all that was left, except for middle seats, and I surely did not want one of those.  I guess the Lord knew all about it because the little lady sitting beside me was barely five feet tall and little.  Thank you, Lord.  I was quite interested to look out the window at the cloud formations and the topography of the land.  What a beautiful, varied country we have.  This delightful couple had spent years teaching in Lutheran schools, and since retirement, have spent much time in Thailand teaching English as a second language. We found that we had so much in common, and that helped the time to pass more quickly that it would have otherwise.

If you have had the good fortune to meet a fellow blogger in person, you know how you start talking to each other as though you've known each other a long time.  It's a wonderful experience.  I highly recommend it.

When I spoke of coming, Sue asked me if I would like to go to San Francisco for a day and maybe Lake Tahoe for another.  Needless to say, my answer was a resounding yes.  So yesterday we went to San Francisco.  Sue's husband grew up in  the city and has been a tour guide so I had a wonderful tour.  I saw a few places that the regular tours would not go.

We had lunch at the Cliff House, right on the Pacific.  Seated by the window, we looked out at Seal Rock.  I didn't see any seals, but lots of birds.  If you click on the link, you can see photos of the Cliff House and read about its remarkable history.

After driving down the very crooked street, Lombard Street, we passed by Fisherman's Wharf.  Our final destination was the Golden Gate Bridge.  I like the particular photo above since it shows one of several container ships that we saw pass by while at lunch.  More to come...

Reflective - Thematic Photographic

This is, without a doubt, my favorite photo of Ella.  Many of you have seen it before, but it will be new to some.  I'm so glad for a reason to post it again...Carmi's theme "reflective."

Do It Again, Lord

I was at a video conference on September 15, just a few days after the day that we will never forget, or I hope we will never forget.  It was a seminar on being successful in your business, but at the end of the day, John Maxwell invited Max Lucado to speak a word and pray for our nation.  The following is that prayer.


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Do It Again, Lord

by Max Lucado



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We’re still hoping we’ll wake up. We’re still hoping we’ll open a sleepy eye and think, “What a horrible dream.”



But we won’t, will we, Father? What we saw was not a dream. Planes did gouge towers. Flames did consume our fortress. People did perish. It was no dream and, dear Father, we are sad.



There is a ballet dancer who will no longer dance and a doctor who will no longer heal. A church has lost her priest, a classroom is minus a teacher. Cora ran a food pantry. Paige was a counselor and Dana, dearest Father, Dana was only three years old. (Who held her in those final moments?)



We are sad, Father. For as the innocent are buried, our innocence is buried as well. We thought we were safe. Perhaps we should have known better. But we didn’t.



And so we come to you. We don’t ask you for help; we beg you for it. We don’t request it; we implore it. We know what you can do. We’ve read the accounts. We’ve pondered the stories and now we plead, “Do it again, Lord. Do it again.”



Remember Joseph? You rescued him from the pit. You can do the same for us. Do it again, Lord.



Remember the Hebrews in Egypt? You protected their children from the angel of death. We have children too, Lord. Do it again.



And Sarah? Remember her prayers? You heard them. Joshua? Remember his fears? You inspired him. The women at the tomb? You resurrected their hope. The doubts of Thomas? You took them away. Do it again, Lord. Do it again.



You changed Daniel from a captive into a king’s counselor. You took Peter the fisherman and made him Peter an apostle. Because of you, David went from leading sheep to leading armies. Do it again, Lord, for we need counselors today, Lord. We need apostles. We need leaders. Do it again, dear Lord.



Most of all, do again what you did at Calvary. What we saw here last Tuesday, you saw there that Friday. Innocence slaughtered. Goodness murdered. Mothers weeping. Evil dancing. Just as the smoke eclipsed our morning, so the darkness fell on your Son. Just as our towers were shattered, the very Tower of Eternity was pierced.



And by dusk, heaven’s sweetest song was silent, buried behind a rock.



But you did not waver, O Lord. You did not waver. After three days in a dark hole, you rolled the rock and rumbled the earth and turned the darkest Friday into the brightest Sunday. Do it again, Lord. Grant us a September Easter.



We thank you, dear Father, for these hours of unity. Christians are praying with Jews. Republicans are standing with Democrats. Skin colors have been covered by the ash of burning buildings. We thank you for these hours of unity.



And we thank you for these hours of prayer. The Enemy sought to bring us to our knees and succeeded. He had no idea, however, that we would kneel before you. And he has no idea what you can do.



Let your mercy be upon our President, Vice President, and their families. Grant to those who lead us wisdom beyond their years and experience. Have mercy upon the souls who have departed and the wounded who remain. Give us grace that we might forgive and faith that we might believe.



And look kindly upon your church. For two thousand years you’ve used her to heal a hurting world.



Do it again, Lord. Do it again.



Through Christ, Amen.



© 2001, Max Lucado. This prayer was originally spoken at America Prays, a prayer event held September 15, 2001 by InJoy. Title: "Do It Again, Lord"

Author: Max Lucado

Publication Date: September 18, 2001

Transportation - Carmi's Photographic Theme

Would you like to travel on this bus?  In the three and a half years that I lived in Haiti, I never did board a bus quite like this.  It didn't cost much (for me) to travel like this, but I chose not to.  If I remember correctly, three people were seated on one bench seat, and then a jump seat was That wouldn't go with any safety code here, would it.  And if you will notice, there are riders and livestock on top of the bus.  The more the merrier.

I lived about 120 miles from the capital of Port-au-Prince, and, depending on the condition of the road, it could take up to twenty-four hours to travel that distance.  Whenever I went to the capital, I chose to go by air.  When I was there in the early 70's, the airline consisted of DC-3's, big propeller planes that were very reliable.  On our end, the airport was a cow pasture.  When the plane was approaching, the person in charge would get out on the field and blow a whistle for farmers to get their cows off the field.

I posted this photo before in another blog post.  This motorbike meant freedom.  Because of the condition of the roads and the cost of a four-wheel drive vehicle, almost all of us had a dirt bike which we used for traveling. I probably never traveled more than forty miles from my home on the bike, but I loved every minute of it.  Sometimes it was very challenging.

I would never get on a motorbike here in the States...well, maybe on a trail, but surely not on a main road.  I must confess I enjoy the comfort of my car.  I used to say that a car was simply transportation.  One didn't need all the bells and whistles.  But...with the few that I have, I surely enjoy them.

For more photos on the transportation theme, visit Carmi's blog.

Just for Today

Just for Today ...

.. smile at a stranger

.. listen to someone's heart

.. drop a coin where a child can find it

.. learn something new, then teach it to someone

.. tell someone you're thinking of them

.. hug a loved one

.. don't hold a grudge

.. don't be afraid to say "I'm sorry"

.. look a child in the eye and tell them how great they are

.. don't kill that spider in your house, he's just lost so show him the way out

.. look beyond the face of a person into their heart

.. make a promise, and keep it

.. call someone, for no other reason than to just say "Hi"

.. show kindness to an animal

.. stand up for what you believe in

.. smell the rain, feel the breeze, listen to the wind

.. use all your senses to their fullest

.. cherish all your TODAYS

~ Author Unknown

Taken from Pastor Tim's website, http://www.cybersalt.org/.

 

A Tale of Two Babies

A newborn Ella

Two babies have joined families that I know in the last month.  One of the babies, Samuel, was born to a couple in our church who have been married for ten years and have desired a child so much. Our whole church has been so exited for this little life that has joined E and S.  Samuel is going to have lots of "grandmas" to love on him. His mom told me that because she is 39, she was considered a geriatric o.b. patient.  Oh my.

Another baby boy was born about six weeks ago to a teen mother who already had one child and didn't want this one.  My daughter has a friend, who with her husband, have desired to have a baby join their family. The only thing is that a few years ago H. was in an accident that left her in a coma and her insides badly messed up.  After many surgeries, she survived but was left unable to carry a child.  They prayed for a child, just as E. and S. did, but their son arrived  a different way.  The nursery was ready, waiting for the little life who would join them.  Two days ago, the young mother called and said, "Come and get this baby.  I don't want him."  Needless to say, they went and got him, and now they have their baby.

I'm so glad that this teen mother did not choose to abort her baby.  She could have, but she didn't and now B. and H. have their little boy.

Catching up

Last week, or maybe two weeks ago, I asked what you do when you can't sleep.  There were lots of suggestions or ideas.  I'm not sure what has happened, but I'm beginning to sleep better.  I am very grateful for that.  The leg pain is diminishing.  I'm able to walk a good distance now without pain.  Standing still is difficult.  I have a few more sessions of therapy, and then I think they will discharge me.  I went to a pain management doctor who wanted to inject me with cortisone in my lower back, but I decided not to do that.

Our town was quite excited this past weekend when one of our local high schools (my alma mater) played their first football game of the season against a team from Tampa and beat them quite handily.  The exciting thing was that it was telecast on E*PN.  I had a ticket for a play at the local theater so I didn't get to go, but I would have been there otherwise.

Now we are all excited by our Tampa Bay Rays who will be playing in the post season unless something horrible would happen.  I've been to quite a few games in St. Petersburg during the season and hope to make it to some of the post-season games.  A ticket or two for the World Series would be fun.

For the past three weeks I've been helping a dear friend get settled in her new home at Il Villagio (formerly known as Bradenton Missionary Village.)  Winters in New York have been harsh, and so her children thought a move here would be good.  Moving to Florida in August is not ideal.  The weather is hot and humid.  We've had fun buying some living room furniture for her apartment and taking care of lots of other things.  It has been hard for her to make such a move at 85, but she's a good sport, and I know that once winter comes, she'll be glad she's here.  I know I'm glad she's here.  We've been good friends for a long time. In fact, I taught a couple of her kids when I was in Haiti.

I wish you all a good week ahead.

Did you hear about...

the Senior Prom that took place this past week at a baseball game in St. Petersburg?  It took place on Wednesday.   Perhaps you saw this commercial.

The player in the Rays shirt is Evan Longor*a, one of many stara on our home team.  He suggests in the commercial that they might have a senior prom for senior citizens.  The Rays picked up on the idea and this past week there was indeed a senior prom after the baseball games...not for high school seniors, but for senior citizens in the community.  Now if you know anything about St. Petersb*rg, you know that there are a lot of senior there. 

I heard once that when folks retired to Florida, they moved to the east coast and sent their parents to the west coast.  As I myself grow older, I look at the seniors with a great deal of admiration.  When I had my knee replacement and was in rehab for a short while, I remember watching people who were much older than I was who had double knee replacements, and they were so diligent about working hard to get those new knees working right.  But I digress.

"For Wednesday's game against the Texas Rangers, the staff booked an oldies band and a Frank Sinatra impersonator; bought boutonnieres and corsages for all the seniors; crowned a king and queen of the prom; and offered group discounts for everyone over 55."--taken from an article that I will link to.

More than 2500 seniors bought tickets for this game.  I wish I had been there.  A writer for the St. Petersburg Times wrote this article about the senior prom and one dear old gentleman who attended.  Please click on the link and read the article.  It will put a smile on your face.  It will be a good way to start your day or finish it nicely.  If you can't find the link, it appears that it isn't there, but look in the sentence "A writer for the St. Pete Times wrote...then there is a space.  The link is there.  It looks like a blank space.  I don't know how to make it appear.  I will work on this template and try to fix it.  Thanks.

Open Forum Monday - What Do You Do?

Back when I was really bothered by shingles pain and blogged about it, your comments turned into a bit of a symposium on dealing with said pain.

I have another problem.  Since I have been having pain in my leg, I have had a very difficult time sleeping at night.  When you can't sleep, what do you do?  I stay awake all day in hopes of being really sleepy when I go to bed.  I go upstairs, lie down, and become wide awake.  Do any of you experience this problem and what do you.

I read about the soothing effects of chamomile tea and made off to the grocery store to buy some.  I steeped tea last evening, took a sip, and then held my nose to try to drink more so that I wouldn't taste it.  Blech!  When Mother Rabbit made it for Peter, I think it was truly a punishment! 

I welcome your thoughts.  Does anyone want 19 bags of chamomile tea?  They are sealed.  I will send them to the first person who asks.  Good night.

Just Because

A Smile costs nothing, but gives much.

It enriches those who receive, without making poorer those who give.

It takes but a moment, but the memory of it sometimes lasts forever.

None is so rich or mighty that he can get along without it,

and none is so poor, but that he can be made rich by it

A Smile creates happiness in the home, fosters good will in business,

and is the countersign of friendship

It brings rest to the weary, cheer to the discouraged, sunshine to the sad,

and it is nature’s best antidote for trouble.

Yet it cannot be bought, begged, borrowed, or stolen,

for it is something that is of no value to anyone, until it is given away

Some people are too tired to give you a smile;

Give them one of yours, as none needs a smile so much as he who has no more to give.

--Author Unknown

Now I Am Four!

When I woke up this morning, my room was filled with balloons!  What fun I've had playing with them.  I went to the store with my mommy and told everyone that now I am four.  My grammy has come to help celebrate, and tonight my aunt Sarah is leaving to drive up to see me and celebrate this weekend.

Where have the years gone? A lot of you have been seeing photos of Ella ever since she was born. Here are a few of the photos from this past year.

This and That

A week ago we had four days of rain here in Florida, not a harsh rain, but gentle, constant.  I was sitting in the comfort of my home listening to the rain on the roof and enjoying it so.  And then my mind went to the people in Haiti who are still living in tents, even as the rainy season begins.  One can only pray and hope that a hurricane doesn't strike the country this year.

I splurged a week or so ago and bought a K*ndle.  I'm enjoying it so much.  One of the things that I'm trying out is one of the local newspapers.  As I was reading it this morning, there was an article about Haiti and an interview with W*clef Jean,  He left the poverty of Haiti years ago and has become wealthy as a musician here in the States.  He went to Haiti after the earthquake and "helped dig a dead friend out of the rubble.  He loaded bodies onto trucks.  He carried a 15-year-old girl whose ankles were crushed to a hospital, where her feet were amputated. 'What she said to me after the surgery defines the Haitian spirit for me', he said. She opened her eyes and asked, 'Can you help me go to school?'"

We shift our priorities all too soon.  Now all the media talks about the oil spill.  Haiti is a passing thought.
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Yesterday I had a call from someone looking for my husband to do electrical work.  That hasn't happened in a long time.  I was talking about Don to someone the other day and talked about his work was truly a calling to him.  I remember once hearing Chuck Sw*ndoll speaking about being ordained to do your work.  Don was truly an ordained electrician.  He did the work and then took the time to listen to peoples' heartaches and joys.

I read this quote in an e-mail newsletter the other day and it really hit home to me.  "If it falls your lot to be a street sweeper, sweep streets like Michelangelo painted pictures, like Shakespeare wrote poetry, like Beethoven composed music; sweep streets so well that all the host of Heaven and Earth will have to pause and say, Here lived a great sweeper, who swept his job well." -Martin Luther King, Jr.
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Some of you have asked about my back.  I had an MRI done, and it showed some bulging discs and severe stenosis...so.  I'm still having therapy.  I've told some folks that it must be getting better because I'm noticing the shingles pain again.  The back and leg pain had taken over before.  I did read about a new patch for the PHN (postherpetic neuralgia) I seem to be among the one-third of patients who develop this.  I'm going to look into it.  There is one doctor here in town who works with it.  We'll see. 

Until the next time I manage to post something...

This will put a smile on your face

I received an e-mail from a friend today with this simple one-liner, "I don't want to brag or make anybody jealous or anything, but I can still fit into the earrings I wore in high school."

Happy Wednesday.

Why Doesn't He Talk to Me?

 This past week my son was being interviewed on one of the TV stations in the area.  Ella was still at Ginny's.  Her mom had arrived to pick her up, and they sat down to watch David's interview.  Ginny told me that Ella couldn't understand why he would not answer her when she talked to him.

We have finally caught up with technology (just a bit) and have begun talking back and forth via the computer and web cam.  The first time Ella saw me, she said, "Grammy, can I come to your house?" She'd get right up to the screen, looking like she wanted to give me kisses.  After I explained this to Ginny, she understood why Ella was having a hard time not knowing why her daddy wouldn't talk to her when he was on TV.

I mentioned a while ago having trouble with my back.  I've started having therapy and so it is easing some.  Hopefully it will be all better.  My shingles still let me know that they are around.

If you haven't visited Melange recently, be sure to stop by.  She's blogging more again, and each post is better than the last one.

Have a good weekend, everyone.

A Song for Sunday

Oh my aching back!

I started to write this post a couple of weeks ago and the picture and title were as far as I got.  I can not help wondering what is going through this dear woman's mind.  Did she lose her home in the earthquake?  Did she lose family?  Is she wondering where her next meal  might be coming from?  Will she still be sleeping in a tent when the heavy rains or hurricanes come?  Many, many heavy thoughts.

When I think of her and many like her, my aches and pains seem so minor.  After I came home from Virginia in May, I started back to the gym and when I was finishing one set of exercises, I felt something slip in my lower back.  Ouch!  The pain from my back has gone down into my left leg, and I'm having a terrible time sleeping at night.  Along with that the shingles pain has not gone away.  Pain does affect one's daily life, but I'm glad it is at least temporary.  One of these day it will be gone...once I find the correct treatment.

I'm reminded of the old country preacher who stood in his pulpit and began speaking, "I'm glad it came to pass and not to stay."  That's what I'm hanging on to here. 

On a happier note, a dear friend of mine that I worked with in Haiti is relocating here.  Out east there is a community for retired missionaries, and she is going to move in there.  There are several other families living there too, so she will have lots of friends there.  Winters in New York were getting very hard for her, so she's looking forward to mild winters.  She didn't even seem to mind the heat the other day when I picked her up at the airport.  I'm thrilled she's going to be here close by.

Those You Touch...You Change...and They Change You

The photos here were taken during a friend's recent trip to Haiti.  It is interesting that all the people who went to Haiti to give aid to a suffering country came back feeling that they had been given something that wasn't material and can't be taken away.

                                   

The following essay is by Steve Goodier.

 Did you know that your money likely has traces of cocaine on it?

A study by Jack Demirgian of the Argonne National Laboratory

revealed that a full 78% of the currency circulating in Miami and

other major US cities carries trace amounts of cocaine. That's

probably true elsewhere, too.

They were only looking for cocaine, but I wonder what else might be

found on the bills? Maybe fast-food products, such as frying grease,

mustard or teriyaki sauce? Tea or coffee? And how about rouge or

lipstick from purses and lint from pockets? Perhaps ink from a leaky

pen? I've found more indistinguishable stains on some of my money

than I care to think about.

What's more, we're told that if they look closely enough, they can

even learn something about where your money has been. To the store.

To the beach. Even hidden beneath a mattress.

Just about anything that comes into contact with money leaves a bit

of itself behind. Then, when the bills rub up against each other in

a wallet or billfold, they share contaminates. Everything the bills

touch will be changed, however slightly

So it is with us. Everything we touch is changed. I used to play

English hand bells. "Don't touch the bells with your bare hands," we

were told. "Wear gloves." The oils from our hands changed the

quality of the bells.

Everything we touch is changed. And everybody we touch is changed --

even if we're not infected with something contagious. I'm not only

talking about physical touch, either. Often we touch their minds and

spirits and hearts. Everybody we speak to, rub shoulders with or

even smile at...is changed in some minute way. These changes can be

helpful or hurtful, depending on our interaction. It is like leaving

a piece of ourselves behind with everyone we meet, and taking a

piece of them with us.

And even little changes can make a difference. NO ONE is

insignificant in this regard.

Bette Reeves said, "If you think you are too small to be effective,

you have never been in bed with a mosquito." You don't need to be a

mosquito to have an effect on people around you. The question is:

what little part of yourself will you leave behind? How will you

influence them? Will your encounter be thoughtful or hurried?

Helpful or harmful? Intentional or accidental?

There is something awe-inspiring about the influence we have on one

another. Whom will you touch today? What will you leave behind, and

what will you take with you?

Awesome questions.

Carmi's theme--Edible!

Meanwhile, back in Savannah at the end of our day of sightseeing, we had reservations for dinner at "Lady and Sons," Paula Deen's restaurant.  Someone said to me that they were surprised that it wasn't fancier, but since it is in the historic district, it must be compatible with its surroundings.

We were escorted downstairs where we had our own room.  When we were seated, we were served a biscuit and a hoecake.  When our turn came to go to the buffet, we certainly had plenty of choices for our dinner.

There were three meats on the buffet - fried chicken, barbecued ribs, and pork.  The hot sides were rice, mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, collard greens, cooked cabbage, black-eyed peas, corn, and macaroni and cheese.  I'm sure I've probably left something out.  Alongside the main buffet was a salad bar. 

After our dinner, we were offered a choice of peach cobbler, banana pudding, or some of Paula's gooey butter cake.  I chose the banana pudding.  One of the ladies on our tour said that her son had gone there and when he read the menu outside, he chose not to go because he didn't like any of that southern cooking.

A friend of mine who visited Savannah not too long ago said to me, "Beverly, it was no better than anything we cook at home."  That's what it was, plain Southern cooking, and it tasted mighty fine to me.

When you're finished eating dinner here, you need to take a walk or something, you will surely be full.  It certainly isn't hard to eat too much.

For more of the "edible" theme, visit Carmi's place.  There will be links to other "edible" posts in the comment section.

This is the way we iron our clothes

 Do you have any of these around your house?  I took a pair of pants into a dry cleaner's store in Waynesboro the other day and saw these irons on display.  I began chatting with the lady who was working there.  She mentioned that the owner of the business had a lot more on display at his store in Charlottesville.

She said that she had grown up just outside Charlottesville, and they had no modern conveniences at their house until she was 13 and they moved into town.  I told her I hated going to my grandparents' house because they had none either.  The main one that I didn't like was having to go down the path to go to the bathroom.

We had a couple of them at our house, but they were used mainly for door stops. I believe I remember hearing my mother say that they became a bit rare because the government gathered iron during the war for manufacturing.

They are neat to look at, but I wouldn't want to have to use one like any of these.  I'd get tired just picking one up!  I would think it might be hard to keep the clothes clean too.

I brought an iron home from Haiti when I came home...not to use, but for decoration.  It is similar to the one above, but with a bright red handle.  It opens so that you can put the hot charcoal inside.

Now with fabrics that are almost wrinkle-free and dryers with settings that let us get clothes out with hardly a wrinkle, irons are not used nearly as much as they used to be.  I taught with a lady whose daughter was married to a man who insisted that his shirts be starched and ironed.  She said that her daughter washed the shirts, took them out of the dryer right away, hung them in the closet, and sprayed starch in the closet.  He was none the wiser.  The joke was on him.

As I looked at all the irons, I wondered to myself, "Where does the expression 'too many irons in the fire' come from?"  One would need an iron to be heating while using one.  Does anyone know? 

A Very Merry Unbirthday

Today is my last day in Virginia until August.  Some time last year before Ella's third birthday, she and her mother were in a restaurant where someone was celebrating a birthday.  She wanted to have one too, so they stopped at the dollar store, bought some birthday hats and balloons, and then proceded to the store for a cake and candles.

When her birthday actually arrived, she was ready.  Tonight after dinner, we had another unbirthday party.  What fun it was  to watch her.  She was a little concerned that there were no hats, but as you can see, she handled it quite well.

I asked her mom if there had been other unbirthday parties during the year.  "Oh, yes," was the reply.

When you are three, who is counting?