check this out.

Especially if you like farmer’s markets.

I didn’t know that.

I was watching Good Morning America to get today’s weather when a segment on how to handle pets and the stress that Halloween causes them came on.  I had not realized that Halloween was stressful on our pets. Unfortunately, I didn’t find out how to help Fido get through the holiday because I decided to stick my head outside and see what the weather was. I also fixed a cup of coffee and by the time I got back to the TV, the segment was over.

Now I guess our dog will just have to suffer this weekend.

High Blood pressure reason number 122.

Two months ago, I happened across a fancy Mr. Coffee coffee maker that had all kinds of bells and whistles. It was on sale at a really good price so I bought it even though we normally only buy ‘plain jane’ because we have not had much luck with coffee pots after they quit making them in this country.  So what does our personal coffee pot melodrama have to do with number 122?   

I  woke up this morning with a stopped up nose and a sore throat. I needed a cup of coffee like you wouldn’t believe and we couldn’t get our two month old coffee pot to work. It’s touch pad technology had gone on the blink and I touched the damn thing until my thumb hurt. No luck.

I got dressed, told Susie I’d be back, put a leash on our dog, Poco and  the two of us went in search of a new coffe pot. I stopped at Home Depot first but they were not open. After all, it was only 7:30 on a sunday morning.

I drove back to the 24 hour store where I bought the Fancy Pants pot  but I had already decided I wasn’t buying anything that was not on sale. ‘Never pay Retail’ is my motto. Not seeing anything with the familiar sale tag, I walked back out into the still dark morning. 

“Nothing there, Poco.” I said to my passenger.  I never talk to the dog but here I was chatting along like I was in my right mind. When I realized what I was doing, I made a mental note to talk to someone about this.  Driving back to Home Depot, I found and bought a 20 dollar coffee pot marked down from 29.99 and headed for home.  I had not wanted to buy this pot because it was made in China but if there is one made in this country, I couldn’t find it.

Foreign appliances alone made my blood pressure go up and then to make things worse, as I left the parking lot, the sun started to peek over the horizon. It was 8:15 in the morning and still dark. I was reminded once again that Indiana, thanks to political shenanigans, had been maneuvered into the Eastern time zone. 

I mentioned this to Susie when I got home but I got no sympathy from her. All I got was a curt ”For God’s sake, get over it, would you?’

I think maybe she needed a cup of coffee.

What exactly…….

is an ‘overactive bladder’?  The television just asked me if had one. I don’t think I do. I thought the overactive label belonged to kids. Silly Rabbit.

I will say that my  bladder does get a little frisky after a beer or two but overactive? Who’s to say?

All I know for sure is that I have a brother-in-law who would pay good money to have a bladder that was a little more rambunctious.

My fifteen seconds of fame.

My home town newspaper runs a weekly feature called ‘Days gone by’. in which they select tidbits out of 25, 50, 70 and 80 year old issues.

In last weeks edition, under the fifty year old news,  was an excerpt from the ‘Lions Den’, a column written by and for the high school kids from Loogootee High. The excerpt read ‘We wonder if Lynda likes blue Chevy Impalas.’

It just so happens that during that 1959 time period in question, I was seeing a girl from Loogootee High School whose name was Lynda and I drove a blue Chevy Impala four door with spinner hub caps and fender skirts.   

I think that might have been my car the newspaper was talking about. Good Lord, I’m famous. 

Of course, there’s always the outside possibility there was another Lynda and another blue Impala but I ask you, What are the chances. 

Incidentally, I don’t remember her spelling her name with a ‘y’ although I guess she could have. Thank God I didn’t have her name tattooed on my arm. I probably would have went with ‘Linda’, then what would I have done.

I was telling this story to Susie and then we ended up in a conversation about a song that had a line in it that went something like ‘ and someday, I’ll make linda mine.’ 

She had not heard the song before  and I couldn’t remember anymore of it or the melody. I am pretty sure it was popular, at least it was around Loogootee. Maybe it never made the transition to the big city of Indianapolis.

A design flaw.

I recently discovered that it is extremely difficult to walk backward when wearing Crocs, especially if you’re carrying something. If the folks at the Croc factory have discovered there is a problem and are trying to avoid a recall, I have a simple fix for them. Install a ridge on the heel of the Croc so that the foot cannot slide out.

Of course, there are people who would say that you should not wear Crocs when you’re planning to be walking backward. And then there are other folks who say that we shouldn’t wear Crocs at all. 

My Crocs were bought for me by my son, Joe. These were the real, original Crocs and were all the rage in the Northwest United States. I proudly wore them when working outside in the garden and around the yard. Sturdy, black sandals that were easy to slip on and hose the mud off, a great idea (I guess I never walked backwards in those years.)  Then along came the copycats; every color in the rainbow and worn on all kinds of occasions.  

I’m thinking about retiring mine, especially after linking to a website featuring people that I suspect wear Crocs a lot. I won’t discuss the website because it’s kind of like watching a train wreck. You know you’re borderline voyeuristic while paging through it but you just can’t help yourself.

Can he do that??

President Obama has ordered that bailed-out companies slash their executive pay.  Being a common sense citizen of our country, Executive Pay seems to be approaching the line between outrageous arrogance and criminal activity and something definitely needs to be done.   

However, for the President to just order a paycut makes me a bit nervous.  It sounds like something out of Venezuela. This seems to be putting government in a place it doesn’t belong.  Let the congress pass a law  or get the shareholders to do something.

A possible look at the future. Then again, maybe not.

I probably should warn you before we start; this is going to be a post about aging so if you’re under 45, you may find it boring and then again, you may find it boring regardless of your age.

Yesterday, Susie and I attended a salad luncheon with a gathering of other retired folks at a Senior Center in Indianapolis. Among the folks attending, we met an elderly lady who  really made my day.

I first noticed her as her car came creeping into the parking lot. I watched from the front door as she opened her car door with some effort and scooted her way slowly out of the vehicle. Bent over with the tell-tale signs of osteoporosis, she made her way to the back door of the car where she tugged at the door, got it open and extracted a green shopping bag and a well worn cane  from the back seat. 

My decades old boy scout training urged me to help her across the parking lot so I went out and  took her arm. She made her way up the ADA approved incline, cane in one hand and her shopping bag in the other and for once,  I appreciated the need for that legislation. There are times when I see cars with handicapped stickers parked in ADA approved spots and perfectly healthy people climbing out of them; that’s when my conservative soul flares up. 

Susie and I introduced ourselves to her as we helped her negotiate the heavy front door and she responded with a grin. 

“My name is Agnes and I’m 95 years old.”  She he told us with a note of pride in her voice, sounding a lot like me when I tell people I’m 69 years old and in all those years, have only been to King’s Island 3 times.  Incidentally, her name really wasn’t Agnes and I’ll tell you why I changed it later.  She continued. “I didn’t expect to be here today but I made it.”

“Oh?” I said politely. “Did you have something else to do??” 

“No. No. I didn’t mean just today.” She said, shaking her head. “I thought I would have been dead a long time ago but I’m not. I don’t know why.”  

******************************************************

you know what?  I’m going to interrupt this story now for a couple of reasons. I’m spending way too much time on this computer and I need to get something worthwhile done.  I also think that with some work, the story might make a decent column.  If you’re interested, I will try to get back to it later. Let me know.

So how long are you going to live?

I came across this web site which purports to predict how long a person will live based upon several questions about health, lifestyle, genetics and so on. Check out http://www.livingto100.com/  

I took the test and I’m not sure if I trust the results or not. The questions asked sort of clue you in as to how you should be living.

A nice weekend.

Susie and I had the opportunity to attend the Indiana University football game on Saturday last. It was homecoming and while neither Susie nor I attended the University in Bloomington (we did attend classes at the Indianapolis campus), we still have close ties to it. I worked on campus in the early 1980’s and of course, two of our children graduated from there.  Still, I believe, there is nothing like the bond created by  spending four (or more) years being a part of the student population. 

It was a lovely evening (a Big Ten network night game) but a bit cool.

As I walked from a five dollar parking lot to the stadium, I was reminded once again of what I missed (besides the education) by not going off to a University for my advanced education. The stadium lot (fifteen dollar parking) was dotted with RV’s occupied by tailgaters galore. When I worked there, I would occasionally be there on a game day and would see the tailgaters having a good time.

I decided then that when I got the chance, I would join them in their festivities. 27 years later, I still haven’t done it. This is not a feel bad for me story. There are so many things to do and only 24 hours in a day. So far, I have found other things that I would rather do. Had I been a graduate of IUB, I probably would have felt differently.   

Incidentally, IU beat Illinois on this day. Neither school qualifies as being a football factory like some of the southern schools. Knowing that, for the most part, we were watching student athletes made it an even nicer day.