Easter Sunday

It’s almost 9:00 pm and now that I think about it, the day has been pretty long, lazy, and I didn’t eat even one piece of chocolate. I did, however, have a cookie that had chocolate pieces in it, but that doesn’t count.

The day began at 5:30 am when we woke up so we could attend our church’s sunrise service in the cemetery. That didn’t happen until 7:00 am so we had plenty of time to grind up some beans and make coffee to get the day started. The dog thought that getting up that early was pretty cool, too, because they got to go outside earlier, and stay longer.

It was chilly during the service, but it wasn’t raining. Many sunrise services have been rained out in the past. We were all gathered near Diane’s Dad’s (Mel) grave, and not far from our son, Brad grave. During the service we Pastor tried to teach us a new song which didn’t work out so well. He’s always trying new songs on us but it’s difficult to figure them out when all we have are the words. But, it makes things kinda interesting.

After the early service we all retired to the church basement for breakfast which was provided by a number of folks including Jennifer. That’s Jennifer, our daughter. It was very good. Once that was over we brought Cedric & Jeran home with us. We didn’t know where Lydia was so we just left her figuring she would call if there was a problem. She is, after all, a teenager now. On the way home we got a call from her friend’s Mom saying they had hijacked Lydia for the day.

When we got home we chained Cedric and Jeran to chairs in front of the TV so they would have to watch, then we took naps. They also had a tray with cookies, sodas, chips and cheese so they wouldn’t go hungry. This worked well until it was time for us to go back to the late service at 10:25 am. Then we had to lock them up in the basement so they wouldn’t bother people walking by on the road. That’s why we have the dogs. That’s their job.

Like normal, we took Diane’s Mom, Jean, with us. Before we left we heated up the oven and stuffed in a tray of generic lasagna for lunch and set it to terminate at 11:30 am. The service ran a little late, as expected, and we had to stop by Safeway for french bread, and pick up the boys … oh … that’s right! Jennie took the boys with her when she left breakfast, not us. We picked them up on the way home after the late service. So, we didn’t tie them up, or lock them in the basement after all. That must have been on another day. I get them mixed up.

We didn’t get home until after noon-o’clock, but the lasagna was OK. Didn’t burn up or anything and was very tasty. After eating, we tied the boys up in front of the TV and took a nap. It’s true that Lydia was hijacked by her friend, and we didn’t see her until almost 5:00 pm. At 7:00 pm Diane picked Jennie up from work and brought her home to eat lasagna. By then the boys were hungry again, so they cleaned it up. Lydia had some too. While she was waiting for it to warm up she cooked a package of Ramen to tide her over. The way those kids eat, it’s a good thing Jennie works at Safeway. I had a ham sandwich. On french bread.

I read a little bit of USA Today news on my iPad this evening and learned that Kodak has filed for bankruptcy and requested permission to pay 300 or their 7600 employees $13.7 million in bonuses. That seems fair, doesn’t it? Reminds me of the Enron days when they owned PGE while I worked there. While our stock, and 401k’s were going down they drain the executives doled out millions to themselves to kinda clean up the loose cash they had laying around. Apparently most of that was legal which I don’t find surprising. the CEO of PGE was paid $900 thousand a year in bonus money for a few years to ensure she would stay on the job. Nice.

OK. Now I’m depressing myself so I’m getting off that subject.

I think I’ll just quit for today. Hope everyone had a pleasant Easter Sunday and, for those of you who hid eggs in the house, I hope you found all of them. They get pretty nasty after a couple of months.

What’s the Deal With Rabbits & Easter?

Greetings and Happy Easter to all. I got to wondering about rabbits and Easter so did some research. Here’s one of many I found that gives some background. I selected it because I liked the pictures. Don’t, however, forget the resurrection while melted milk chocolate bunnies are escaping from the corners of your mouths. Diane’s favorites this time of year, actually all year long, are Peeps – only the yellow ones.

Analysis by Trace Dominguez
Fri Apr 6, 2012 03:55 PM ET

Rabbit-bunny-easter-what-622

There’s no story in the Bible about a long-eared, cotton-tailed creature known as the Easter Bunny. Neither is there a passage about young children painting eggs or hunting for baskets overflowing with scrumptious Easter goodies.

And real rabbits certainly don’t lay eggs.

BRIEF: How the Moon Affects the Date of Easter

3_weeksWhy are these traditions so ingrained in Easter Sunday? And what do they have to do with the resurrection of Jesus?

Well, nothing.

Bunnies, eggs, Easter gifts and fluffy, yellow chicks in gardening hats all stem from pagan roots. These tropes were incorporated into the celebration of Easter separately from the Christian tradition of honoring the day Jesus Christ rose from the dead.

According to the University of Florida’s Center for Children’s Literature and Culture, the origin of the celebration — and the origin of the Easter Bunny — can be traced back to 13th-century, pre-Christian Germany, when people worshiped several gods and goddesses. The Teutonic deity Eostra was the goddess of spring and fertility, and feasts were held in her honor on the Vernal Equinox. Her symbol was the rabbit because of the animal’s high reproduction rate.

NEWS: Was the Last Supper a Day Earlier?

Spring also symbolized new life and rebirth; eggs were an ancient symbol of fertility. According to History.com, Easter eggs represent Jesus’ resurrection. However, this association came much later when Roman Catholicism became the dominant religion in Germany in the 15th century and merged with already ingrained pagan beliefs.

The first Easter Bunny legend was documented in the 1500s. By 1680, the first story about a rabbit laying eggs and hiding them in a garden was published. These legends were brought to the United States in the 1700s, when German immigrants settled in Pennsylvania Dutch country, according to the Center for Children’s Literature and Culture.

The tradition of making nests for the rabbit to lay its eggs in soon followed. Eventually, nests became decorated baskets and colorful eggs were swapped for candy, treats and other small gifts.

Easter-eggsEaster-cardDISCOVERY NEWS: All About Easter

So, while you’re scarfing down chocolate bunnies (I hear chocolate is good for you!) and marshmallow chicks this Easter Sunday, think fondly of this holiday’s origins and maybe even impress your friends at your local Easter egg hunt.

Happy Easter!

Credits: Ian O’Neill, Library of Congress, Corbis

 

Sock Monkeys, Socks, and Jack

Panzee’s got a sock monkey. She wasn’t very impressed with it, and ignored it until she discovered that it squeaked. Now she carries it everywhere. I’m sure the reason for that is because she has no idea where her squirrel is. It squeaks, too, and she’s had that for years. Really. She just bites it enough to make it squeak but she doesn’t rip on it. Pretty amazing.

I had to fix the floor drain in the basement, again. You’d think fixing it once would be enough, but nooooo. Not this drain. It only runs over when the washing machine empties so I know for sure that what’s causing it is all the little tiny pieces of wet lint that gets sucked out by the washer. Either that, or some socks. Some of those are missing, like normal.

This evening Diane, me, and Diane’s Mom, Jean, went to the Warren Community Fellowship church to witness their presentation of “He’s More Than Just a Man” musical. There were 70+ people in costume for the event, and Jack sang two solos. Quite impressive. Jack was a Sanhedrin Man but I didn’t get any pictures on my camera because I used Jack’s for the performance. I gotta tell you that I never, ever thought Jack would look good in makeup, but he does. From the looks of tonight’s performance, he’s ready for Boogie (Bugis) Street in Singapore. I did get this shot of Diane’s socks before they turned out the lights. Nice, huh?

The steering wheel in the RV is still laying around in pieces waiting for the new blinker thingie. It’s supposed to be here on Monday. The new awning is supposed to show up on Wednesday.

Diane got the car washed because she heard it’s supposed to be nice all weekend. Guess what! She made it rain, and she knows better than to flaunt the weatherman by getting the car washed at the first little hint of blue sky. I have to admit, however, that it looks pretty nice.

Now I’m going to eat a snack and go to bed before it turns to fat.

Wheeezie The RV

Today’s word is “Fix The Turn Signal Thingie” on the RV. OK, that’s really five words, but it’s only one task that involves a whole bunch of steps. After Diane left me alone, again, this morning, to take her Mom, Jean, to quilting, at the church, I followed orders and got busy. I  studied and studied the steering column, and removed a bunch of bolts holding it all together, but had to wait for Diane to return so I would have a ride to NAPA to get a new tool to pull the steering wheel off. I was actually allowed to go to NAPA by myself, in Diane’s car, so I went real slow to ensure I didn’t bruise it in any way. I got the tool for a bargain $9.85, returned home, pulled the steering wheel off, and totally dismantled everything I could find under the steering wheel. Now I need to go back to NAPA, tomorrow, and get a new blinker and wiring harness then figure out how to get it all back together without having any parts left over, or running out of parts before I’m done. I’m very confident I can do it. I tear stuff apart all the time and always manage to get it all back together. It’s a knack I have. They don’t always work right, but I get them back together.

I also fixed the clearance lights on the RV. That should count for extra credit.

Tonight was Taco Thursday at the Moose Lodge in Warren. I took Dan, Cedric, Lydia, and Jeran with me. I wasn’t going to eat, but it looked good so I had two hard shell tacos. They were only $1.50 each and two was way more than I could eat, but I did anyway. They are very generous with the food at the Moose Lodge. A plus this evening was I got to visit with Doug and Caroline while we ate. They never miss Taco Thursday. Tonight was special for another reason for me because it was the first time I had a chance to use my newly acquired key card for the lodge. Turns out I didn’t have enough knowledge to make it work until I visited with Doug. Now I have the proper education that will allow me entrance any time I want.

Now I’m home and that’s really good because it’s cold outside. It was cold inside, too, until I cranked up the heat a couple of degrees.

All that’s on the news right now is the autopsy report on Whitney Houston. Apparently that’s something everyone else in the world is really wanting to know about. The most shocking fact, we’re told, is that there’s evidence the Whitney had breast implants! OMG! I’m totally shocked! I mean, that just totally shatters all the good things I thought about her but, wait a minute. Isn’t it, like, a requirement that everyone in the entertainment industry, that wears a dress, must have breast implants. Seems to me the shocker would be that she didn’t have bigger hooters than what God gave her. Personally, I think they should just leave her alone. There’s way more important “stuff” going on in the world to consider.

It’s early, but I’m going to quit. Diane just came in the computer room to watch the pilot for “Missing”. We have two other episodes recorded, but she needs to see the pilot first. So, I queued it up on HULU for her to watch on her computer.

It’s Wednesday, Again …

Good afternoon. I’m finally getting into retirement mode, and learning to like it more and more. The best part involves naps. Next it’s eating. Going down the list from there, in no particular order: I don’t have to take a shower until Diane tells me to; I can leave my clothes in a heap on the bedroom floor as long as Diane wants; I can leave my shoes all over the house, because Diane does too; I can stay up as late as I can stay awake, which is normally 10-ish; I don’t have to get up to an alarm clock, just the dogs; I can go do stuff in the middle of the day, during the week, with Diane’s permission; … OK, not a lot has changed. I’m still on a schedule, just not my own. Oh well, I can still take naps. Unless there’s something I have to do.

It’s cold here. Diane made me work on the RV for a while this afternoon, between rain showers, and helped me rip the awning off. It was ripped, anyway so it didn’t matter. I wound up taking off all the brackets and everything to prepare it for reinstalling with new awning material, when it gets here. That should be Friday, according to Diane’s favorite eBay site. They’re never wrong. I’m not being facetious, here, because we’ve made some really good deals on eBay, for things we actually needed. Really. We don’t go to the eBay just for fun. No sir, not us. Well, not me, anyway.

This morning I woke up with really sore arms and couldn’t figure out why right away. I just thought it was one more thing I’d have to learn to live with every day. But, I finally determined it was just the results of catching Lydia’s pitches for over an hour last night. I did pretty good, but it’s not an old man’s job. Even so, I enjoyed doing it, and I’ll do it again. For sure. Besides, after strenuous work like that, I’m confident Diane will find enough ‘stuff’ for me to do the next that that I’ll be able to work out the kinks petty quickly. That worked today. Now I’ll just have to deal with the new aches tomorrow morning.

I just watched a little of the news about the fake Altuzan cancer medicine that was shipped into the US. And, they charged almost $2000 a vial for it which was $400 less than the “real” manufacturer charges. Kind of unbelievable, don’t you think? I think I’ll just quit taking medicine altogether as a protest. Maybe I’ll just start my own country in the back yard where medicine isn’t needed. I can use the apple tree sticks in the burn pile to make a lean to and live there with the dogs. I think they’d like to live outside all the time. At least when it’s warm. Maybe not so much when it’s cold and raining. Or snowing. Or windy. Or if it’s really, really hot. I think I just made a case for creature comforts in the form of forced air heat and air conditioning. I’d miss my computer, too. And the big TV. And the refrigerator.

OK. I’m not starting my own country for all those reasons, and because I can’t think of a really good name for a new country in our back yard.

I think, from now on, I’m going to use this method of communication, which is mostly one way, I might add, to educate the masses, by giving them one new word every day to enhance their ability to correctly, and creatively share their thoughts with other members of the human race. To start, let’s check “ubiquitous” in Merriam-Webster’s On Line Dictionary <><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

ubiq·ui·tous

adj \yü-ˈbi-kwə-təs\

Definition of UBIQUITOUS

: existing or being everywhere at the same time : constantly encountered : widespread <a ubiquitous fashion>
— ubiq·ui·tous·ly adverb
— ubiq·ui·tous·ness noun

Examples of UBIQUITOUS

  1. The company’s advertisements are ubiquitous.
  2. <by that time cell phones had become ubiquitous, and people had long ceased to be impressed by the sight of one>
  3. Hot dogs are the ideal road trip food—inexpensive, portable, ubiquitous. —Paul Lucas, Saveur, June/July 2008
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Now for comparison, here’s what the “always available for editing Wikipedia” has to say …
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Omnipresence

From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia  (Redirected from Ubiquitous)
“Ubiquitous” redirects here. For other uses, see Ubiquity (disambiguation).
 Omnipresence or ubiquity is the property of being present everywhere. Divine omnipresence is thus one of the divine attributes, although in Western Christianity it has attracted less philosophical attention than such attributes as omnipotenceomniscience, or being eternal.
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It’s interesting that Wikipedia redirects to omnipresence which makes sense because the definitions are the same for both words in Webster’s.
Time to quit wasting your time because it’s eleventy pm.

Jury Selection & Softball Practice

This morning, at 8:00am, Diane was at the County Courthouse for jury selection indoctrination. I was left home. Alone. I as instructed to sit quietly until she either called or returned. This presented a complication because I had a dentist appointment at noon and no way to get there until Jennie brought me a vehicle. I could have used the lawnmower, I suppose, but that would have made Diane cranky. So, I just sat there. Thankfully, after a couple of hours, Diane returned with groceries. Shortly after that Jennie showed up with the alternate transportation which we no longer needed because Diane was home and available to drive me  to my appointment.

I don’t know why I’m sitting here typing this because a trip to the dentist isn’t all that exciting unless they yank something out of your mouth, which they didn’t. I was just there for my cleaning. At one point, with my mouth wide open, my saliva glands spontaneously let loose and sprayed my face and my hygienists mask. Good thing she had it on, but she didn’t think anything about it. In fact, she shared with me that she and her friends used to spit on each other in that manner, when they were much younger, and they called it “gleeking”. Finding this very interesting, as I do things of this nature, I checked it out on the internet and, guess what! Gleeking is real. It’s the action of projecting saliva out of the submandibular gland upon compression by the tongue. Give it a try. Then clean the mirror.

Here’s more information from Wikipedia, and I quote:

Gleeking

Gleeking involves the mouth,tongue, and submandibular gland (#2 in diagram)

Gleeking (also gleetinggeekinggleepingglarfingglittinggleakingglickingglythingglandinggeezingyangingcobra spitting) is the projection of saliva from the submandibular gland upon compression by the tongue.[3]

In general, gleeking occurs when an accumulation of saliva in the submandibular gland is propelled out in a stream when the gland is compressed by the tongue. The stream of saliva is released in the general direction of the front of the mouth. If the mouth is open the jet may project several feet. Gleeking is more likely when the salivary gland has been recently stimulated, but even a residual amount of saliva in the gland may be released by gleeking.

Gleeking may occur spontaneously due to accidental tongue pressure on the sublingual gland while talkingeatingyawning, or cleaning the teeth. Gleeking can also be induced, for instance, by pressing the underside of the tongue against the palate, then pushing the tongue forward while simultaneously closing the lower jaw and moving it slightly forward; or by yawning deeply and pressing the tongue against the palate. Practice is usually required to induce gleeking consistently, and induction is more likely to be successful under conditions of salivary stimulation.

End Quote (actually, I copied it)

Then, this evening, Diane made me change out of my jammies, which I donned upon return from the dentist so I could rest, and eat my tacos from Taco Bell, so I could go catch pitches for Lydia at her softball practice. It was in the High School gym. Lyd, me, and her coach were the only ones there so she got some one-on-one instruction. She’s the designated pitcher on her team and will back up at 2nd base. She’s learning a new method so is having a little trouble finding her release point, but slams a hard one in about every 3rd pitch. It’s getting better and we can’t wait to watch her team play. It’s handy because they play at the field at the bottom of the hill from our house. We could walk there, but we won’t because it’s all uphill on the way home.

That’s all I have.

The Porch Cat Has A Name!

First, I gotta tell you that I was pretty excited yesterday because 102 people viewed the blog. I had no idea I knew that many people! Then, today, 2 people from Cuba looked at it. Amazing! I wonder why … They were probably just accidents when someone clicked the wrong button.

Now, the cat. We appreciate the three suggestions we had for names – Beazus, Razor, and Oreo and had a hard time choosing. Finally, after an extended period of time in the bathroom, I decided Oreo wasn’t too bad. The only problem was it didn’t adhere to the criteria of having a “z”, or beginning with a “B”. Thankfully, that didn’t matter because Diane made the final decision by choosing “Breezie” which is is more fitting, and descriptive, because she really wasn’t a porch cat, she was a breezeway cat. What a perfect name. So, all the criteria was observed. She’s currently laying in Diane’s lap, playing with a sock monkey, watching Dancing With The Stars. I think Diane’s watching it, too.

Today was a beauty and things are good. My ditch is still draining off water from up the hill, keeping the driveway dry, Jeff returned my cutoff saw, I got all of the lawn mowed, bagged, and dumped, the cat got a name, and my cat scratch is healing nicely. So is the dog bite. Here’s what the cat looks like — kinda like a Jersey Cow, don’t you think?

Interesting thing, before I started mowing, I went to the Chevron station to get a gas can filled because I knew I’d run out before it was finished. Actually, it’s not a can because it’s plastic. It should be a gas plastic for grammatical correctness or, as Jack would say, “true speak.” Anyway, I left the gas “thing” in the driveway while I mowed the front, worked my way around the side, to the back, and was about halfway done before the mower quit. So, I walked all the way back up the hill, to the driveway, carried the “thing” to the middle of the field and filled the tank. Wore me out because it’s about a mile and a half. At least. I would have filled it before I started, which was my initial intention but something else got my attention and made me forget. I think it was when the mower started. But, I got the lawn finished just in time to get cleaned up so I wouldn’t embarrass Diane at our Lion’s Club International meeting this evening. Lyle and Ruth are Lion’s members, too, but they never show up at our meetings. Probably because they live in Connecticut. Tonight’s meeting was important to me because I was in charge of the program. It was an easy one, however, because our friend, Randy, did all the work. You can see what he does by checking out his web site: http://www.nowimthinking.com/ — what a guy! Randy is open for speaking engagements, if you’re interested.

I  just looked at the clock on my trusty computer and see that, once again, it’s 22:22. Interesting. That happened last night, too. I think it was last night. There’s something odd about recurring numbers in people’s lives, don’t you think? Maybe that should be the topic for tomorrow, unless something really interesting happens. So far all that’s on the schedule is that Diane has jury duty for a local mass murderer, and I have a dentist appointment. She always gets to do the fun stuff …

Hunger Games vs. Twilight

I’ve decided to become a book critic, maybe even a movie critic, at least for a short time. Perhaps for just this one time only because the fact that I’m going to base my opinions solely on whether or not I like something instead of how much money they made, will be too much of a radical change to what you may be used to. It’s kind of like the price of gas and how the speculators determine what it will be. You know, if they’re running short of a little pocket change, they’ll bet the price of gas will be going up and, guess what?! The price of gas goes up! How convenient for them. I can’t recall any times that they speculate the price will go down. Then again, maybe they do which means that I just don’t know how that system really works. Which I really don’t. So, what I just did was state an opinion base solely on my dissatisfaction with the price of gas. But, you know what? When Diane and I lived in Italy from 1970-1973 the price of gas there during that time was over $3 a gallon. Now it’s about $10. That doesn’t mean what we’re paying is OK, but it kind of puts it in perspective.

Now, about being a critic …

I’ve read all the Twilight books, seen the movies, and took little note of how many zillions of $$$ they made for whoever gets that money. No one ever tells us that part. All they say is such and such movie grossed $15 gazzillion over the weekend. What does that really mean except that’s how much money theaters gathered from eager viewers to see whatever movie was playing? They, being the media, don’t mention how much it costs for any given theater for the rights to show that movie. So all the theaters combined, that were allowed to show the movie, grossed what amounts to the total worth of, say, Greece, but it’s just a number. It’s misleading. I want to know how much the 3rd Gaffer in the scene from Forks, Washington made that weekend. Or, the guy that really drove the Volvo to a squirreling stop in the Olde School parking lot in St. Helens to rescue Belle. That’s relevant data. There I go again, flying down one of the tangents that rule my life … sorry.

Twilight was about a young girl torn by her love for two totally different males. Throughout the story line she waffles back and forth between the two, finally choosing the one with the cold body.

Hunger Games is about a young girl torn by her love for two totally different males. Throughout the story line she waffles back and forth between the two, finally choosing the one … wait … have you read all three of these books, yet? Perhaps not. I’m almost done with book three and really don’t know how this part ends, so, in all honesty, the part of me you all know best, I cannot do anything except speculate beyond this point. But you get my drift, right?

The difference between the two is that in Twilight, Belle is a decent teenager forced to go live with wolves and vampires in Forks, Washington, while Hunger Games, Katniss is about a decent teenager who is forced to enter a fight to the death with 23 other folks, of various ages. I mean, how much more alike can they be? There are too many similarities, except for the death and dying in Hunger Games, to discount the possibility that they were authored by the same Apple discount store employee who is only allowed to work the night shift because no one wants to see him. Ever! So, he makes things up. First thing he makes up is to change his pen name gender from male to female, which is a really good move because the love scenes are more believable if the author is a woman. Coming from a guy author would lend one to believe he was a deviant, or a molester, or something.

So, where were we? I forget because I had to go out and look for the big black dog, Ziva. Apparently I let her and Panzee outside, when I put the cat out, and forgot. Panzee came right back, from the back yard, but Ziva is remaining incognito, running somewhere in the night in the surrounding neighborhoods. Hunting vampires. That’s what she does. So now, thanks to her, I’m in deep kimchi until she returns because I’m the one that turned the door knob. Like I can control her desire to stick around in the yard by standing on the deck with a tiny little flashlight. I admit, it seems to have worked in the past, but I don’t know how. It’s just a little thing. But, it’s really bright. Has LEDs instead of the other kind.

I’m sure everyone will be happy to learn that the ditch I dug worked like a charm during the last downpour we had. There was no standing water in the driveway like normal. It’s kinda nice and only makes me wonder why I didn’t do that a long time ago. Actually, it doesn’t make me wonder at all. That’s just something I hear often. From other people. No, that’s not true at all. I just think that’s what I’m “going” to hear from other people once they find out what a success my ditch was. Then, they’ll be wanting me to come over a dig ditches for them, even if they don’t need one.

It’s now 22:22, which means it’s late and, but the many twists and turns of the foregoing, evident that I should have quit about nine paragraphs ago. But, I have no control over how things in my brain are interpreted by my fingers. Sometimes I’m only vaguely aware that my keyboard is producing actual words. Most of the time I’m unconscious and everyone knows a person isn’t responsible for things that happen when they’re unconscious.

I mentioned that I would take a picture of the cat scratch but I don’t know where my camera is. Besides, it’s not as bad as I thought. Regarding the cat … we need a name. It’s got to have a “z” in it, an no more than two syllables. Any suggestions?