Announcement:

So, yes, I have a good excuse for not feeling well the greater part of every day!

A Book Review

It’s amazing that human beings can be so creative and yet do the same things over and over again. And, if you’re like me, you need help being creative anyhow. (Like Pinterest!) Which is why Peter and Heather Larson and David and Claudia Arp have written $10 Great Dates.

$10 Great Dates is an easy book to read, each date is simply given with a fun name and ideas on how to make it both an adventure and cost-friendly. And with 52 ideas, the go-get-them couple could have a different date every week of the year, from library dates to time travel dates to bucket-list dates. And even if play-with-a-pet date doesn’t work for you because you’re both allergic to animals, at least the book will spark your creative juices. Maybe you can even write your own date book and call it DIY: Great Dates!

http://bakerpublishinggroup.com/books/10-great-dates/345350 

This book was provided by Bethany House Publishers for review purposes only.

Pittsburgh Confused

Actually, that title is a bit misleading. For I’m sure Pittsburgh isn’t confused at all. After all, it’s probably been like this for a hundred years or more. But it does confuse me!

It’s the streets. I’ve already posted that there is no straight line between Points A and B in this whole city. After my wedding, my sister Katey told me she would never complain about driving in Boston again! And I agree. But I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s not the curvy roads or narrow back alleys that make this place so hard to understand. It’s the fact that these people have no creativity.

What do I mean by that? Well, I’m pretty sure every borough and township in Pittsburgh has an Orchard Avenue. And a Grant Street. And an Ohio Boulevard. The same goes for something named Ross, Bellevue, Perry, Locust…and the list continues. Did these people never stop to think that there are more names in the world?

To add to the confusion, boroughs and townships share zip codes. For example, we live on Orchard Avenue. In Avalon. But if you type in our zip code, you will get the borough (or township – not sure which it is) of Bellevue. And in Bellevue, you will find another Orchard Avenue. And another house with our number. Which causes all kinds of mixed up, late and returned mail. (Which is not helped by having a different mailman every single day!) Of course, complaining to the grand USPS is akin to negotiating a peace treaty in the Middle East. But I have had several discussions with UPS trying to get a box delivered to our house. Thankfully, they have an older driver on the route that understands the confusion but has plenty of extra headaches on account of it. Meanwhile, I’ve taken to praying over our mail. It’s the only way it arrives safely and our water or electricity don’t get turned off because our bill wasn’t delivered to us.

Ed says that at one time, these two Orchard Avenues were the same. And were connected to the one in Emsworth (which also has the same zip code, but it’s two boroughs over so doesn’t get wrapped up in this confusion). I find that terribly hard to believe because if you look at a map, they run parallel to each other and are several blocks apart. But, of course, this is Pittsburgh. Some windy road that makes no sense may have connected them at one time. But that fact doesn’t raise my esteem of Pittsburghers anymore than their lack of creativity in giving roads names. Because they are either 1) terrible road engineers or 2) terrible with the English language. And neither excuse is very flattering.

Memories of…Abby!

Or Charlie…explaining how that nickname came to be is a little confusing when people ask why we call her “Charlie”. It started with teasing (as most things do with Abby). And is stuck. But then lots of nicknames have stuck with Abby…I won’t embarrass her and list them all here.

Today Charlie turns 21. So, I guess that officially makes her an adult. And like so many adults, I imagine she will be working on her birthday. But then, Charlie works nearly every day. For hours on end. Because there’s nothing Charlie does half way. Ask anyone.

When Charlie was born, I was 13 ½ years old. I can remember a lot of things about her birth. Mom had kidney stones with her, and I remember sitting in my top bunk reading till who knows what time in the morning until Dad brought her home from the hospital, the coming baby thankfully okay. Charlie also liked to turn flips in the womb, causing the doctors not a little bit of consternation. And I remember Dad leaving his alarm clock on when he took Mom to the hospital. It took me a minute or two to figure out how to get it to turn off. Oh! And Grace had the chicken pox, maybe with Jenny but we were never sure Jenny actually had them. So, they couldn’t go into the hospital, meaning we went in shifts. Katey and I went in by ourselves. And even though we didn’t get lost, I’m not sure we actually used the right elevator coming down.

From the time she was born, Charlie liked to make herself known. She had lungs like none other, especially when our pastor got up to preach. She was never afraid to share her opinion. She gave my friends un-asked for advice more than once. (And there’s nothing like someone in their twenties getting advice from a six-year-old.) And, believe me, she is always right…or so she thinks.

Charlie could also get out of work like a member of a construction union. If there was a shovel to be leaned upon, she was leaning. But, more likely, she just disappeared. And you never even realized it. Assigned to wash windows with Charlie? Before you knew it, you’d be washing alone. And how in the world did you end up sweeping the floor on her day to do it? There’s no telling. It just happened.

Maybe it has to do with being the baby girl. When she was very small, she would bring a book for you to read to her. Without even asking, she’d turn around and back up into you until she plopped into your lap…and you started reading. Charlie and I read books together even after she started reading herself. It made long car rides to bell concerts seem not quite as long. And in December, that was a lot of reading time!

Today, Charlie is a criminal justice student with dreams of law school in the future. She studies hard, works hard and plays hard. But she’s still the baby sister. And she is still the best fun to tease.

So, happy 21^st birthday, Charlie!

Busy, Busy, Busy

It’s been a while since I worked a full work week. I didn’t quite work a full 40 hours. I worked 8 hours in the office on Monday, 8 hours cleaning out the storage area on Tuesday and then split my time between the two for 8 hours on Wednesday. Thursday I spent 6 hours going through old slides. I threw away nearly four trash bags full. The rest I sent e-mails out to 20 or more people asking if their gardens or arboretums wanted them for their archives. Today I put in almost two hours in the office boxing slides up to mail.

One day I joked that I was hired for this job because I’m so good at cleaning things out and moving. But I’ve never moved quite like this. As a writer (before computers), I thought I had a lot of paper to pack. But my scribbles are nothing compared to well over 400 tubes full of architectural drawings, schematics and topographical plots. I spent probably a grand total of 16 hours getting rid of papers, loading the back of my SUV up and taking the rolls to recycle bins. We still have 60 tubes left Ed and I lugged over to the office so Amber and Kara can go through them, scanning in what we need to keep. The rest I will load in the back of my SUV for one final trip to recycle.

Ed worked over 6 hours this week in the storage area, taking down the very well made shelves all the tubes were kept on. These were about 8 feet in height, screwed and bolted together enough that he could climb about on them like a jungle gym. They were NOT easy to get down. I even took my turn using the electric drill and took huge pieces apart while he returned the reciprocating saw we borrowed. But they are demolished…and the pieces should be completely gone before tomorrow is over. Just wish we could get rid of the 200 or more tubes we thought we could sell. But, of course, architects don’t use tubes anymore. Neither, I suppose, do many artists. I’m still searching Pinterest for some neat ideas…

There are a lot of things about the age in which we live that I’m sure our grandparents find baffling, our parents work hard to keep up with and even my generation shakes their heads at the next generation who are born with smartphones in their hands. All the instant knowledge we have within in our reach isn’t always a wonderful thing. But, it sure does make our grandchildren’s future look a little lighter. My grandkids will never have to clean out piles of their grandmother’s scribbles – they can just wipe my hard drive. And since I’ve already scanned all my photo books into my computer, they’ll never have to worry about that either. If they wish, they can wipe the zip drives. How easy is that?