Thursday, June 24, 2010
I found out today that a classmate from my graduating high school class died lat night. He was only a couple of months older than I am. Not very long ago, Tom Fitch, a guy I once worked with while we were both at the same level died. He was also a couple of months older than I was when he died. Larry and I were good friends when we were in school together, but he went to a different college, and we parted ways after school. He was a coach, first at a high school and later moved up a little - never in the big ten league, but he collected a lot of footballs.
At this point about a fourth of the class is dead, which means that three fourths of us are still going on one way or another. Most of us have dodged a few bullets and been winged a time or two. There's not much you can do except keep on keeping on.
It's sort of a disadvantage to be retired - you don't have to worry about the immediate future as long as you have enough money coming in to live on without working. It tends to make you lazy. After a few years, you figure you have done enough if you exercise for an hour and a half in the morning, cut the grass once a week, do a little house work and shopping, and just keep the lights on. Read a book or watch TV in your spare time. No patents or awards except for volunteer work. Sort of a useless person except for the odd gift to the grandkids.
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
For lunch yesterday I made a smoked salmon paste with a can of salmon, chopped onions and dill chips, fat free mayo, and liquid smoke. Since the BW doesn't like smoked things, I ate half yesterday and the other half for lunch today. The salmon and a couple of rye flatbreads were plenty, but today I added half an avocado, a cup of yogurt, and a handful of walnuts.
Then I made vegetarian fried rice for supper yesterday, only I added a 9 oz chicken breast fillet, cut up and fried in olive oil first. It was supposed to be 8 servings, but we ate half of the recipe. I put all the ingredients for half of what I made in the combined foods section and labeled it "Chicken Fried Rice", and then said I had a half serving for supper. That's probably what we will have for supper today.
The BW came home from her Zoomba class with a flier showing the place where the class and everyone else interested comes to have a party every Friday. It's happy hour from 4:00 on, and the party is from 6 to 7:15. The cost is listed as $8, and I can't figure out what the eight dollars is for - the music? Entrance? It's not the drinks or food. We'll have to go once and find out.
I rolled out at 6 yesterday for the Kiwanis meeting - and only 8 members showed up. It was a half hour meeting with business but no speaker. Then I took the rest of the day off. Today I got up at 6 again and stopped by the post office on my first walk. We had a report notice from the state for a sales tax return, so I did that and turned it in today. Now I'm pretty well done with all the urgent stuff, and just have a few chores left for this afternoon.
Maybe I'll get back to "The Elements of Style" again. Looking for something to do, it occurred to me that it has been 30 years since I wrote a book and decided that I needed to work on my style. I still have the three books that I used, and in a couple of hours a day I learned to write in a few months. It was nice while it lasted, but then I went back to being a manager again and everything else stopped. It would be good to get that skill back. Cutting gems is a much more expensive hobby than writing.
Monday, June 21, 2010
If you have never heard that expression, I guess I'm too old to relate to you. I learned it as a child without understanding what it meant. It wasn't until I read Walden, by Thoreau, that it came clear for me. In the chapter called "Economics," or something similar, he discusses the cost of his cabin. In case you don't know, he was a squatter on someone else's land, and built the cabin himself. It came so something like 11 dollars, 34 1/2 cents. In the discussion of how to live successfully, he mentions the cost of a house and the daily earnings - one dollar for a day's labor. He says "It may be argued that some make more, but many make less." I recall during WWII my father came home ecstatic, very late, and told my mother that he had made nearly twelve dollars for only 12 hours work. They thought it was amazing that he could earn a full dollar an hour. I haven't looked it up, but I think Thoreau was writing sometime in the 1860's.
I was going to skip the BLOG tonight, but I haven't heard anyone say "Another day, another dollar" for years, and I just thought it to myself and figured why not blurt it out. A little useless information never hurt anyone, and it kept me out of trouble.
Sunday, June 20, 2010
This wasn't a bad day until recently. I rolled out at 6 and had breakfast, cut the grass from 7 to 9, had a shower and read the paper, and did a few other chores until noon. We were having lunch when our son called, and had a nice visit with him, starting out with father's day, and segueing into his new car, necessary because Julia's was totaled.
Later the oldest daughter called, and we had a nice, but shorter visit. Louie talked for half an hour, which is about all anyone should stay on the phone, and everything was fine. I was reading a paperback called "Heartland" by David Wiltse, and having a perfectly good time. At that point, after lunch, I was at 775 calories for the day, but I planned to eat a half pound apple that would bring it to 895 for the day which is still a good place for me to be.
Unfortunately, after the apple I went on to three beef hot dogs, three ounces of chips, two beers, and an ice cream cone. According to my pocket notebook that totals 2115 calories, which is nearly the same as the Spark record says. So I'm over the limit before supper.
When we turned our bodies in to the psychiatrists at Indiana University, we had to keep track of what we ate, the exercise, and how we felt. We also needed to note UCE in our record when we went crazy like that. It has been a while, but I was definitely out of control during the snack binge.
Meanwhile, the thunderstorms went by, and the 60 per cent chance of rain only brought us a tenth of an inch of rain, so around 7 I'll be out watering 36 plugs of St. Augustine grass by hand. I'm really not hungry now, so maybe I'll skip supper - at least most of it.
PS. My youngest daughter just called and made me laugh a lot, so I guess it was a perfect father's day.
Saturday, June 19, 2010
I got up and was planting St. Augustine Grass plugs by 6:30 this morning. It takes a little 6-6-6 fertilizer, a hand trowel, some water, and some plugs. I also used a pair of kitchen shears to cut some of the plugs apart.
First you dig a hole in the ground (sand) the right size, then you scatter a little fertilizer on the bottom and work it into the sand. Fill the hole with water, put the plug in after the water sinks in, firm up the sand around the roots so no air gets to them, and put another cup of water on the planted plug. It's so simple a child could do it.
Unfortunately the plugs don't like to come apart. They come in a gray of eighteen plugs, three across and six down, in little three inch square holes. The grass has spread runners and roots from one hole to another, so a tray tends to turn into a solid mat of grass instead of nice little pots of grass. That's why I went into the house to get the shears. I got three trays of plugs yesterday, and intended to plant them all this morning, but it didn't work out.
After I cut most of the first tray apart because only a few plugs would come out relatively easily, I had a revelation. I turned the tray over and found that I could pull them apart far enough to identify the one strand of either grass or root that needed cutting, so the last few plugs in that tray weren't so hard. With the second tray I flipped the thing immediately, and soon learned that if I worked everything out of the tray I could grab one plug and work it loose, sometimes with pretty hard jerking and wiggling. That gave me more grass that went into bare spots.
By the time I finished the second tray I was well soaked in sweat, and tired enough to be shaky, so I decided that the third tray could wait until tomorrow. It was 8:40 then, and getting fairly warm, so I left my shirt on a hook in the garage, cooled off inside, and had my shower and shave to start the day.
I was extra tired, and couldn't figure out what happened until about 1:00 when I remembered the new medicine, tamsulosin. I wasn't supposed to drive for 12 hours after the first dose, and let the doctor know if I was dizzy or fainted. I was and am OK except for feeling like someone had beat me up.
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