Fruit of the Loom
Hello World,
Many (soggy) people in the local area were surprised a few weeks ago when the media reported that this was not the wettest spring ever in these parts, especially since even then, it seemed like it had been raining for the proverbial 40 days and 40 nights without stopping, and everything that hadn't rusted was moldy instead. Au contraire! (That's French for, "Where's my life jacket?") According to the weather experts, the precipitation leader around here was June 2003. Everyone scoffed at this claim, and to a man, they all said the same thing, that they couldn't remember ever having this much rain in one season in their entire lives. I probably would have said the same thing, except that I can't say that I couldn't remember, because here are some excerpts from my notes at the time:
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
June 6, 2003 -
Happy June! Of course, we all know what June is famous for, and long celebrated by singers, poets and greeting card companies the world over. Moon, June, spoon, croon and honeymoon -- yes, June is famous for weddings. And here we are, sloshing into the month of romance in our galoshes, as the blushing brides and nervous grooms take this momentous step together, on the heels of probably the wettest month this side of monsoon season in India.
June 13, 2003 -
Here we find ourselves in the middle of June already and next week, the official first day of summer will be upon us. Around here, the weather is alternating between freezing and flooding, so it's a little hard to get worked up about summer just yet.
June 20, 2003 -
Happy Summer! Around here, you can't tell it by the weather, but according to the calendar, Saturday is the official first day of summer. You know the Druids and their ilk will be out in force, meeting in their secret places, casting their special mystical spells and performing their arcane rituals to greet the solstice in appropriate style. Of course, the way things have been going, they'll be wearing galoshes and rain coats while they're doing it, but you can't have everything. This weekend, the Mets and Yankees will be attempting to play some baseball games at Shea Stadium, and whenever they play against each other, the local papers refer to it as a "subway series." Because of the weather lately, the papers have taken to calling this a "submarine series" instead. I suppose the outcome will depend on who can hold their breath the longest!
June 27, 2003 -
In typical fashion here, at least in recent memory, in our climactic conditions, we bolted right from the damp and frosty days of early spring to the sweltering blast furnace of late summer, and all in the same week. On Saturday, we had the mother and father of all thunderstorms at 3:30 PM and lost our electricity. Of course, so did our neighbors with the 100-foot tent in their backyard, and when party-goers began arriving there at 5:00 PM, they were greeted with the sounds of silence, warm drinks and uncooked food. I have to admit that Bill took an inordinate amount of sinister pleasure in the collapse of their plans, and it was certainly the quietest party the neighbors have ever had.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
So, far from sinking into oblivion in a watery grave, the water-logged spirit of June 2003 lives on to serve as a reminder, if any was needed, that things can indeed always be worse. I will say that Bill did his part, buying new windshield wipers for both of our cars, which I would have thought would not only make it stop raining on the spot, but also for months afterwards.
Of course, Sunday was Father's Day, and a perfect time to celebrate all of the fathers and father figures in our lives with their own special day and all the trimmings. Not so fast! At church, our pastor is leaving next week, and the new pastor that has been lined up was about to be ordained, so we all wanted to be a part of that very special event. For reasons that I have not been able to fathom, they picked Father's Day of all things for the ordination service, as if people wouldn't have already had other plans for the day, that didn't involve being at church for six hours, thanks not. This very nice and affable young man had been a deacon at a small church in Elmont, just on the fringes of Queens, and they were kind enough to send their van to pick us up at our church and bring us there for the ceremony. Although theirs is another Lutheran church, just like ours, I was surprised to see that they were using different hymnals than we do, and they picked a number of unfamiliar hymns and service music for the occasion. This caused unexpected problems for me, in my usual efforts to drown out everyone around me, but I still did the best that I could under the circumstances, and in fact, I did notice the nervous ushers moving the more fragile decorative items out of my range and to safety outside of the sanctuary. The service itself was lovely and impressive, and it all went very smoothly, in spite of that crazy soprano who was rattling the rafters at full throttle. Afterwards, we all went downstairs to the fellowship hall for a wonderful catered lunch, and I'm sure only the shallow and captious among us would be of the opinion that the best part was the delicious sheet cake for dessert, and I would be one of them. All too soon, it was time to bid our fond farewells to our new friends in Queens, and the van brought us back and dropped us off at our own church around 3:00 PM. It was not the day I would have picked for this event, but I was still glad to be a part of it, and I've got the strained vocal cords to prove it.
It was late in the game for Father's Day after that, but the cats came through for Bill, and got their "daddy-cat" some practical household items that are always welcome, a magazine subscription which is a gift that keeps on giving all year, and of course, junk food never goes out of style, and I ought to know. There was also Pecan Danish for breakfast, although one of our cats, a smoky black princess whose nickname is MoJo, failed the first test of gift-giving by eating more of it off Bill's plate than he ate by himself. Of course, she's new to the intricacies of holiday presents, and to her way of thinking, all food is hers. Bill, who is indulgent to a fault, was happy to oblige, which is why when it comes to daddies, he's the number one pick of our crowd of picky felines, that's for sure.
I have to say that things have turned a corner in Walk Group, because on Monday, I came in first, rather than fourth or worse as I had been. Of course, that was because I went all by myself, since nobody else showed up for Walk Group, and so the entire group consisted of me, myself and I, all by my little old lonesome and that's all. I had been saying that I could never do Walk Group by myself, because I couldn't walk that far that fast even if I wanted to, and it was only the fear of being left behind crossing streets that forced me to keep up the group ahead of me. But after three weeks of strenuous effort, I wanted to give it a try and see if I could do it alone, just as an experiment, and keep up that pace the whole way by myself. I was surprised that I did a pretty good job on my own, and got back about the usual time as when the group goes together, which I wasn't expecting. I don't think that I walked as fast all along, but I found that I ran across all of the streets, since I didn't have a whole group to protect me from the traffic over the whole route that we travel. There are a lot of streets that we cross, so I think I made up some time running, even though my regular walking speed is not the quickest of the group. Since I was alone, I decided that I could make a detour at one corner that we regularly pass, and I trotted over and tapped on Bill's window to say hello. He was surprised to see me, because I don't dare stop and see him with Walk Group, since I know I would never be able to catch up with them again after that, no matter how fast I ran. So I thought that was an interesting experiment, and I was pleased with the results, which were not what I expected. I'll be the first to admit that I'm no Marathon Margie, but on Monday, I was all that Walk Group had, and I gave it my best.
I had been scouting around for something to have as an afternoon snack at work,that could serve as a pick-me-up while being healthier than a candy bar, for instance. I thought some fruit might do the trick, but I have always found fresh fruit at work very inconvenient, because it usually dribbles or requires peeling, or it has messy left-overs like pits, peels or seeds that I wouldn't want to deal with. I thought a good solution to that would be a little box of raisins, and I tried that, but found them so sticky that I either had to eat the whole box all at once and then go wash my hands, or I couldn't use anything in my office without making it sticky too. Of course, we can count on our friends at Betty Crocker to bring us Better Living Through Chemistry (actually, I think that was the motto of the team that invented dynamite for Dupont) so I decided to try some of their Fruit Roll-Ups in the variety pack and see what that was like. These snacks are individually wrapped in foil packets, so you have no idea what you're in for until you tear into the thing, which I did last week as an experiment. I took a bite out of the roll while holding onto the bottom of it with the foil packet, and found it much tougher than I expected, even grinding at it with my teeth. It had a nice flavor, but definitely more chewy than I thought it would be, giving me the idea that this snack was geared more toward youngsters with good strong teeth and energetic jaws. About halfway through, I pulled the rest of the roll-up out of the foil packet, and yes, this was the first that I noticed the clear plastic that it was rolled up in, that people familiar with the product obviously knew enough to remove before eating it with the plastic intact. Thank you so very much not, Betty Crocker, although in their defense, I wouldn't be surprised if there's a message printed on the box somewhere (in very tiny type) that warns people to unroll the roll-up and take the plastic out before eating it. As for myself, I figured that I was most likely not getting enough plastic in my diet anyway, so this was probably a good thing. After all, if I've learned one thing in Walk Group, it's not to do things by half-measures, by golly.
Elle
Many (soggy) people in the local area were surprised a few weeks ago when the media reported that this was not the wettest spring ever in these parts, especially since even then, it seemed like it had been raining for the proverbial 40 days and 40 nights without stopping, and everything that hadn't rusted was moldy instead. Au contraire! (That's French for, "Where's my life jacket?") According to the weather experts, the precipitation leader around here was June 2003. Everyone scoffed at this claim, and to a man, they all said the same thing, that they couldn't remember ever having this much rain in one season in their entire lives. I probably would have said the same thing, except that I can't say that I couldn't remember, because here are some excerpts from my notes at the time:
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
June 6, 2003 -
Happy June! Of course, we all know what June is famous for, and long celebrated by singers, poets and greeting card companies the world over. Moon, June, spoon, croon and honeymoon -- yes, June is famous for weddings. And here we are, sloshing into the month of romance in our galoshes, as the blushing brides and nervous grooms take this momentous step together, on the heels of probably the wettest month this side of monsoon season in India.
June 13, 2003 -
Here we find ourselves in the middle of June already and next week, the official first day of summer will be upon us. Around here, the weather is alternating between freezing and flooding, so it's a little hard to get worked up about summer just yet.
June 20, 2003 -
Happy Summer! Around here, you can't tell it by the weather, but according to the calendar, Saturday is the official first day of summer. You know the Druids and their ilk will be out in force, meeting in their secret places, casting their special mystical spells and performing their arcane rituals to greet the solstice in appropriate style. Of course, the way things have been going, they'll be wearing galoshes and rain coats while they're doing it, but you can't have everything. This weekend, the Mets and Yankees will be attempting to play some baseball games at Shea Stadium, and whenever they play against each other, the local papers refer to it as a "subway series." Because of the weather lately, the papers have taken to calling this a "submarine series" instead. I suppose the outcome will depend on who can hold their breath the longest!
June 27, 2003 -
In typical fashion here, at least in recent memory, in our climactic conditions, we bolted right from the damp and frosty days of early spring to the sweltering blast furnace of late summer, and all in the same week. On Saturday, we had the mother and father of all thunderstorms at 3:30 PM and lost our electricity. Of course, so did our neighbors with the 100-foot tent in their backyard, and when party-goers began arriving there at 5:00 PM, they were greeted with the sounds of silence, warm drinks and uncooked food. I have to admit that Bill took an inordinate amount of sinister pleasure in the collapse of their plans, and it was certainly the quietest party the neighbors have ever had.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
So, far from sinking into oblivion in a watery grave, the water-logged spirit of June 2003 lives on to serve as a reminder, if any was needed, that things can indeed always be worse. I will say that Bill did his part, buying new windshield wipers for both of our cars, which I would have thought would not only make it stop raining on the spot, but also for months afterwards.
Of course, Sunday was Father's Day, and a perfect time to celebrate all of the fathers and father figures in our lives with their own special day and all the trimmings. Not so fast! At church, our pastor is leaving next week, and the new pastor that has been lined up was about to be ordained, so we all wanted to be a part of that very special event. For reasons that I have not been able to fathom, they picked Father's Day of all things for the ordination service, as if people wouldn't have already had other plans for the day, that didn't involve being at church for six hours, thanks not. This very nice and affable young man had been a deacon at a small church in Elmont, just on the fringes of Queens, and they were kind enough to send their van to pick us up at our church and bring us there for the ceremony. Although theirs is another Lutheran church, just like ours, I was surprised to see that they were using different hymnals than we do, and they picked a number of unfamiliar hymns and service music for the occasion. This caused unexpected problems for me, in my usual efforts to drown out everyone around me, but I still did the best that I could under the circumstances, and in fact, I did notice the nervous ushers moving the more fragile decorative items out of my range and to safety outside of the sanctuary. The service itself was lovely and impressive, and it all went very smoothly, in spite of that crazy soprano who was rattling the rafters at full throttle. Afterwards, we all went downstairs to the fellowship hall for a wonderful catered lunch, and I'm sure only the shallow and captious among us would be of the opinion that the best part was the delicious sheet cake for dessert, and I would be one of them. All too soon, it was time to bid our fond farewells to our new friends in Queens, and the van brought us back and dropped us off at our own church around 3:00 PM. It was not the day I would have picked for this event, but I was still glad to be a part of it, and I've got the strained vocal cords to prove it.
It was late in the game for Father's Day after that, but the cats came through for Bill, and got their "daddy-cat" some practical household items that are always welcome, a magazine subscription which is a gift that keeps on giving all year, and of course, junk food never goes out of style, and I ought to know. There was also Pecan Danish for breakfast, although one of our cats, a smoky black princess whose nickname is MoJo, failed the first test of gift-giving by eating more of it off Bill's plate than he ate by himself. Of course, she's new to the intricacies of holiday presents, and to her way of thinking, all food is hers. Bill, who is indulgent to a fault, was happy to oblige, which is why when it comes to daddies, he's the number one pick of our crowd of picky felines, that's for sure.
I have to say that things have turned a corner in Walk Group, because on Monday, I came in first, rather than fourth or worse as I had been. Of course, that was because I went all by myself, since nobody else showed up for Walk Group, and so the entire group consisted of me, myself and I, all by my little old lonesome and that's all. I had been saying that I could never do Walk Group by myself, because I couldn't walk that far that fast even if I wanted to, and it was only the fear of being left behind crossing streets that forced me to keep up the group ahead of me. But after three weeks of strenuous effort, I wanted to give it a try and see if I could do it alone, just as an experiment, and keep up that pace the whole way by myself. I was surprised that I did a pretty good job on my own, and got back about the usual time as when the group goes together, which I wasn't expecting. I don't think that I walked as fast all along, but I found that I ran across all of the streets, since I didn't have a whole group to protect me from the traffic over the whole route that we travel. There are a lot of streets that we cross, so I think I made up some time running, even though my regular walking speed is not the quickest of the group. Since I was alone, I decided that I could make a detour at one corner that we regularly pass, and I trotted over and tapped on Bill's window to say hello. He was surprised to see me, because I don't dare stop and see him with Walk Group, since I know I would never be able to catch up with them again after that, no matter how fast I ran. So I thought that was an interesting experiment, and I was pleased with the results, which were not what I expected. I'll be the first to admit that I'm no Marathon Margie, but on Monday, I was all that Walk Group had, and I gave it my best.
I had been scouting around for something to have as an afternoon snack at work,that could serve as a pick-me-up while being healthier than a candy bar, for instance. I thought some fruit might do the trick, but I have always found fresh fruit at work very inconvenient, because it usually dribbles or requires peeling, or it has messy left-overs like pits, peels or seeds that I wouldn't want to deal with. I thought a good solution to that would be a little box of raisins, and I tried that, but found them so sticky that I either had to eat the whole box all at once and then go wash my hands, or I couldn't use anything in my office without making it sticky too. Of course, we can count on our friends at Betty Crocker to bring us Better Living Through Chemistry (actually, I think that was the motto of the team that invented dynamite for Dupont) so I decided to try some of their Fruit Roll-Ups in the variety pack and see what that was like. These snacks are individually wrapped in foil packets, so you have no idea what you're in for until you tear into the thing, which I did last week as an experiment. I took a bite out of the roll while holding onto the bottom of it with the foil packet, and found it much tougher than I expected, even grinding at it with my teeth. It had a nice flavor, but definitely more chewy than I thought it would be, giving me the idea that this snack was geared more toward youngsters with good strong teeth and energetic jaws. About halfway through, I pulled the rest of the roll-up out of the foil packet, and yes, this was the first that I noticed the clear plastic that it was rolled up in, that people familiar with the product obviously knew enough to remove before eating it with the plastic intact. Thank you so very much not, Betty Crocker, although in their defense, I wouldn't be surprised if there's a message printed on the box somewhere (in very tiny type) that warns people to unroll the roll-up and take the plastic out before eating it. As for myself, I figured that I was most likely not getting enough plastic in my diet anyway, so this was probably a good thing. After all, if I've learned one thing in Walk Group, it's not to do things by half-measures, by golly.
Elle
posted by El Tango Fandango @ 8:24 PM
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