Today we have:  Success!  Surprise!  and a Secret!

If you are onboard with this, let's go!

Perhaps you might remember my post from a few weeks ago about my failed attempt at replacing my old, beat up, white tees.  Well we did not give up, we just took a break.  As you can see, we found one. And that's a big Woohoo!  At long last, success!   Over the past weekend, Tim and I, once again headed out in search of my own particular grail, the ever so simple, iconic, white, tee-shirt.  Which shouldn't be such a big deal but somehow was.  

Walmart had exactly one.  And we bought it.  It doesn't fit perfectly and it's not my preferred neckline BUT it'll do.  I was content with just that one, surprisingly inexpensive, shirt.  But Tim suggested that we hit a few other stores to see if we could find a second one.  Obviously, a shirt that cheap isn't going to last forever. Nice to have a second one as stand by.  Ok, I like that plan.  

I was feeling much better about myself, tee-shirts, shopping and the world in general after our immediate good luck that day, so we next stopped at Burlington which is no longer just a coat factory.  (I'm sure you already know that).  Ours is a rather small store, square footage-wise, and the good folks of Burlington were trying to cram way too many different things into that small space so each section was tiny.  The odds were not good. And in fact, we found nothing. But that's ok.  I still had the new Walmart tee-shirt so I was still considering it to have been a successful shopping day. 

Tim however, pressed on.  In the particular plaza where we stopped, there was a Marshalls, literally next door.  Tim pointed to the entry, " do you want to have a quick look?" he asked. As we stood on the sidewalk, I paused and considered. Ok, sure Just one more try.  

I hadn't been in a Marshalls in a long time so the chaos of it all was a little startling at first.  There were quite a few other shoppers and their carts, carriages and other paraphernalia taking up a lot of space and energy so I was dubious.  At first in an unfamiliar setting I usually need a minute to get my bearings.  How is this store set up?  Where is the section I need to be in?  Where are the registers?  Where are the fittings rooms?  I need to take just a beat.

Eventually I sorted it out and we began.  The racks are a little higgeldy piggeldy, with tops next to pants next to jackets and the sizes often intermixed requiring a bit more attention be paid to things other than, the expected - do I like the look of this?  But that's okay.  I plunged in and slowly, steadily, moved hangars right  to left as I made my way along the Very narrow aisles.

Eventually between Tim and I, we had a couple of possibilities in hand and we began to slog toward the fitting rooms when we passed by the clearance racks.  I do love a good clearance rack.  Naturally I had to take an extra couple of minutes to prowl through.  It really was a quick stop too, Nope, nope, nope and then wait a minute.  Something caught my eye.  It was unexpected for sure. Nothing at all like the plain white tee that was my mission du jour.   Initially I took a step past it and then stopped and backed up.  I took it off the rack and looked at it again.  I held it up too me (checking for length) and decided, what the heck, why not.  Costs nothing to give it a try.

Once in the dressing room I tried on and disregarded the other items quickly. They didn't fit right. But the last item, the clearance rack item, still beckoned.  I laughed at myself while I admired it.  It was a crazy pattern, almost but not quite a cartoonish botanical print, brightly coloured, button front, nothing at all like what I normally would choose.  So what was appealing to me about it?  I have no idea.

When I took the shirt off the hangar I was surprised to find that there was also a pair of matching shorts.  I don't know if that's a thing where you live but I see it a lot here.  I'm not a  matchymatchy kind of girl really, but hey, free shorts with the top?  Maybe I'll wear them together, as intended, maybe separately who knows?  And does it fit anyway?  It could all be moot.

Curious, I slipped it on and surprise! It fit perfectly.  No pulling at the bust, not too tight across the shoulders,  the short sleeves were comfortable and the length was perfect, just over the waistband of my shorts.   I rarely ever find shirts this perfect length! I stepped back and looked in the mirror and laughed out loud.  I loved it!  The silly pattern, the bright colours, all made me very happy.  I checked the price tag and it too made me smile.  All right.  Not a tee-shirt but a shirt.  It's all good.

I didn't bother to try on the shorts.  I don't have the same issue with bottoms as I have with tops.  If the top fits, the bottom will fit. I wasn't the least bit concerned about the matching shorts and frankly I couldn't be bothered taking off anymore clothes to try them on. I can be lazy like that.  As far as I was concerned, the matching shorts were just a nice bonus!  It was all about the shirt.

Tim offered to try other stores but I was done for the day.  Two new shirts and huzzah to that.  
I was so excited that I did the laundry immediately so that I could wear the new shirt the next day.  Here's me in the new shirt.  Sorry about the flash.

Not a great photo, but you get the idea.  Isn't it just the most un-Sam like shirt ever?  I do not care one single bit.  I adore it and I know I will be wearing it a lot, under sweaters and sweatshirts as it gets cooler and on it's own all summer long.

But now to the secret part of the story.  As soon as we got home, I set to work carefully cutting out the 3 zillion tags attached to each piece. I at least glanced at each tag in case there was important information.  There rarely is, but hey it only takes a quick peek. It's not like I have to read an entire encyclopedia's worth of information, right?  So I see the size, the price, the original price, the manufacturer, the washing instructions and ....................................then I read that last tag and I burst out laughing and couldn't stop.  I kept laughing to myself the entire time I tossed it all in the washer and then the dryer. I was still chuckling when I wore the new shirt the next day.

Turns out it's not a matching shirt and shorts at all!  Nope, it's pajamas.  Pajamas!  Surprise! LOLOL  I don't give a damn.  I am wearing that shirt as a shirt and I dare anyone to be able to notice the difference.

The matching shorts on the other hand are pajama shorts.  They are very comfortable, they even have pockets but they are sooooo big!  Far too Big, they look silly, like clown pants.  Well shorts.  Clown shorts then.  So they have been consigned to the pajama drawer and I've already worn them as pajama bottoms. Super comfy.

So there it is, the Success, the Surprise AND the Secret!

(just don't tell anyone else the secret part, ok?)

​

Weddings rings. Simple bands which are themselves symbols of eternity, which represent the vows, shared by two people who have now promised to be together, forever.  Weddings always touch my heart in a special sort of way. Whenever I attend a wedding I have tremendous hopes and wishes for the newly created  couple.

As you may (or may not ) recall,  Tim and I have been together for a Long time now, coming up on 32 years.  And we are as devoted to one another as much, if not more, than we were the day we got married.  Awwww

Tim and I opted for the old fashioned, very traditional vows.  We promised to "love, honour and to cherish one another for richer and for poorer, in sickness and in health, in good times and in bad, 'til death do us part".  I know that a lot of folks nowadays choose, instead to write and speak their own very personalized vows and I do think that is charming.  I find it impressive that couples will go the extra mile to really consider what they wished to promise to the other and also be willing to state it publicly.  In front of witnesses.  Often videotaped.  We will call that evidence.

I stumbled across a set of essays online recently written by people whose marriages did not work out.  The stories told were about the breaking point, the moment the other person left. They were very personal stories, crafted by people who was sometimes sad, often bewildered, occasionally bitter and angry. 

Far too many of the tales were remarkably similar.  Generally something along the line of the when the writer of the essay became ill or injured or perhaps it was their child who ended up with medical issues and then the spouse was outta there.  The reason for leaving given, over and over, was, "I didn't sign on for this".

I disagree.  Yes. You did.  This is exactly what you signed on for.  "... in sickness and in health..."  It is right there in the vows.  You promised in front of other people. You made a solemn vow. On video.  There was no asterisk by the "sickness" part of those vows that said *as long as the sickness is just a cold or the flu and oh by the way, even if you are sick I'm still going to expect dinner on the table and clean laundry anyway". NO!

What is wrong with people?  This is real life. Not the Disney version of real life.  There are going to be good times but there are also going to be bad times.  Sometimes it'll be so sweet and easy and other times it's really going to be hard. Really hard. Screaming into your pillow and crying in the shower hard.  But you push through.  That's what you do.  You honour your vows.   Why do some people not get this?

I am not talking about two reasonable people who have grown apart and choose to move on to separate lives. I'm not talking about abusive relationships of any kind which absolutely is the perfect reason to leave. I'm talking about the real normal life of two people who loved each other enough to promise to care in Sickness and in Health and then when sickness happens - the really bad stuff: a debilitating injury, an unexpected disease - they haven't got the grit to hang in there.

Frankly, I am so disappointed in those people that I don't even know what to say.

I've heard in my real actual life, as well as this collection of stories, far too  many of these cases and I just......  It's heartbreaking. How can anyone abandon the person that they Swore to love and care for, Forever, just because the going got hard for awhile? I am baffled.

The worst one of these I ever knew, and this was someone I knew personally in my real life, was a mom of twin baby girls.  The babies were beautiful but born with a fatal congenital condition that was terrifying, exhausting and terribly expensive to deal with.  The woman's husband, the father of those little girls, upon hearing of their diagnosis/prognosis left, stating that it was obvious that she had cheated on him and they were not his children because his people did not produce defective product.  That is what he said. And that woman found the strength somewhere deep inside to care for and eventually, sadly bury both of those babies, alone.

When I heard what he said as he walked out of their lives, I had to calm myself because I have never in my life felt the compunction to violence as much as I did in that moment.  I am normally such a peace-loving gentle person but I was shocked by my desire to slap the crap out of that man.  Obviously, I didn't do such a thing. I had no idea I was capable of even thinking such a thought before.   And thankfully, I didn't even say it out loud at the time because it would not have helped the situation at all.  I just let it simmer inside me. 

I am so sorry that this sort of thing happens.  And it seems to happen far more often that I realized.  Do people not understand what 'vow" means?  Do they not feel the weight of it?  The Significance?  The momentous importance?  I am mystified.

Look, it's easy to love someone when everything is going great. The sun is shining, the birds are singing and you have enough money in the bank to put a roof over your head and food in your mouths and everybody is feeling great.  That's awesome.  But that's not the test of a relationship.

The test comes when things aren't perfect.  When one of you loses your job and the money is tight,  when everything breaks at the same time, when the baby keeps you awake for nights on end and sleep deprivation is making you short tempered and practically hallucinating or when one of you suddenly has a serious medical issue that is going to mean big changes, at least for awhile. That's the test you have to pass. That's when your honour, your integrity in fulfilling your vows comes into play.  That's when you and the world find out what sort of person you truly are.

The life Tim and I have built together was not clear sailing. Nobody's is.  We've gone down rough roads, experienced difficult times, faced lots of scary stuff and we didn't always agree. But no matter what happens, we always know that we will get through it because we will face it together.  I have his back and he has mine. Perhaps we are hopelessly old fashioned but when we spoke our vows on that day, we meant every word. "For richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, in good times and in bad".  

We weren't just mouthing random syllables,  I felt the importance of those words as we spoke at my very core.  I imprinted them on a cellular level. I swear they are carved now on my DNA.  

Anyway, those are the thoughts that were rambling around in my head this morning. I will try to put together less serious thoughts for posts next week!

Wishing everyone a terrific weekend.  Hugs all 'round

This is the jewelry I chose to wear to the museum last week, a mismatched set of turquoise pieces.  Well I suppose they do match in that they are all bracelets and they are all turquoise. But I mean it's not an intentional match. They weren't purchased together as a set.  The inlay piece I inherited from my Grandmother, the beaded one my friend Marsha made for me and the other one was a gift from Joy.

They went perfectly with the dress I selected for the day, a turquoise and brown dress.  It's an unusual colour combination which is probably what initially drew me to it. But I also liked the easy care fabric - I could literally wad it into a ball and throw it in a corner overnight and it still be able to just shake out and look great in the morning (perfect for travel) and it's very comfortable to boot.  As I recall, it was also on the clearance rack and usually that price counters any objection I might have to something as piddly as an unflattering colour.  See for yourself:

I'm not suggesting that the colour turquoise, in and of itself, is unflattering. No!  Not at all. In fact, I actually love the colour.  But it looks not so good on me.  There is something about my skin tone that when adorned with turquoise makes me appear to be jaundiced.  Not  a look anyone has ever aspired to.  But I counter that sickly yellow look, when wearing this dress, by wearing a cream coloured cardigan over it.  Trust me on this, it looks very nice and when I'm at the museum I always absolutely make an effort to present well.

Side Note: Joy, on the other hand, looks fabulous in turquoise. It's kind of HER colour and she is welcome to it.  With the exception of this dress. The dress is mine.

Anyway, while I was getting dressed and putting on my earrings (also turquoise) and bracelets, the random thought crossed my mind that all of my turquoise jewelry was set in silver.  And then, I realized that 99% of all turquoise jewelry I ever saw anywhere was also set in silver.  That got me wondering. Is there a reason?

My guess was, tradition but I wanted to be sure so I looked it up. And yuppers that is certainly one of the primary reasons.  Native Americans artists have been making amazing and beautiful jewelry, art, belt buckles and more from Turquoise set in silver for a Very Long Time.  But did you know that they aren't the only ones who worked with turquoise?

For more than 10,000 - that's ten thousand! - years turquoise jewelry and other ritual pieces have been created in such far away places as China and Egypt as well as the Native Americans of our Southwest.  Holy Cats!  I did not know that!  Interesting. I also did not know that, at least among the Zuni Indians, blue turquoise was considered male and green turquoise, female.  Not sure how I feel about that but I suppose, not my culture, not my call.

Interestingly, at least to me, other countries that worked with turquoise, often used gold. So in those cultures, the turquoise and silver combo was Not the tradition. They used gold or bronze or whatever metals were close at hand or perhaps other metals were their own traditional preference. So many varieties, so many options, so many stunning pieces of art!  And make no mistake about it, jewelry Is art.  Wearable art but still art.

On the other hand,   Native American, Mexican and Spanish artists nearly always used silver with turquoise in their amazing creations. Most likely because it was easily sourced.  Makes sense.   There are some folks who believe silver to be the "correct" choice in combination with turquoise due to the "cool tones" of the stone against the equally "cool tones" of the metal.  And I do not disagree that silver and turquoise look great together.

But sometimes I don't want things that go together. Sometimes I prefer things that contrast.  And a warmer metal, such a gold, would definitely contrast with turquoise.   Beautifully I suspect.  And in fact, I looked for some examples of turquoise jewelry set in gold and I find it equally lovely. Here's a few examples:

Completely different but absolutely just as beautiful as the turquoise set in silver, at least in my estimation.  Not traditional by a long shot, but pretty pretty pretty, nonetheless.

So there we are.  I asked a question and I answered it.  Very efficient.  And now I know something I didn't know before!  

How about you?  Do you have a preference?  Turquoise with silver or turquoise with gold?  

Feet. 

In fact, these are my feet. I can tell by the Frodo toes, the prominent veins and the sneaker tan.  Dead Giveaway.  So what's the deal with the feet?

Well, feet are feet. Usually they are not an especially attractive part of the human body but of course they weren't created for that. They are intended to be functional; to bear the sometimes impressive weight of, not just the attached human being but also whatever that human is carrying or lifting!    They act as stabilizers so we don't fall over and shock absorbers for any and all impacts.  Feet are intended to allow us to walk, run, tiptoe, climb, skate, slide, dance and stand for hours at a time. We use them hard.

Sure sure, some folks take good care of them, not merely making sure they are clean but also lotioned, massaged, painted and bejeweled.  Oooo, pretty!   I make sure my feet are clean of course, lotioned when I think about it and shod most of the time.   But I'm not careful. Or at least I'm not careful enough.  And I know that because I have, at one time or another, broken most of the toes, some more often than others, as well as a few other foot bones, to say nothing of the occasional cuts from broken seashells, burns from hot sand and nips from cranky crabs.

But I, eventually, learned to slow down a little bit, be more careful and to always, always wear shoes and time passed, (as it does) until one day I realized that it had been quite some time since I had broken a toe or cut my foot or any other ridiculous thing.

The universe must have  heard my bold claim and laughed because suddenly my right foot is injured.  I didn't bash into a table leg or drop a bowling ball on my foot (at least that I recall) so I'm not exactly certain how it happened but one day, while walking, I realized that I was limping a little bit and strangely, the top of my right foot hurt.  Odd.  So when I got home, I took off sock and shoe to take stock of things.  There was no cut, no blood, no bruise BUT the top of my right foot was a little puffy indeed and walking was uncomfortable so I did what we always do in such cases in this house. I applied ice.

Ice is tricky to put on your foot, especially if you are a wiggly person like myself who has difficultly sitting still for long periods of time. So I had to come up with a better solution.  How do you hold an ice pack in place on the top of your foot and still stay mobile?   The answer my friends is a small ice pack and a sock.  I give you, my flamingo ice pack!!

It was a fun, silly Christmas Stocking gift quite awhile ago and it's been sitting in the freezer ever since then. Finally it was put to use!  And it works great!  Look funny, but works great and that is what matters.

I did a little research and odds are that either it's a teensy little fracture OR a pulled/torn tendon/ligament.  Well of course it is. What a stupid thing to have happen, again with NO idea how it happened.  But turns out my instincts are good. The solution was ice (!!), ibuprofen, rest  and the one thing I didn't think of, compression.

Great  idea.  I poked around in the medicine closet and eventually turned up with a 3" ace bandage and proceeded to wrap my foot. It does help, it does feel much better. ahhhhh.  

The downside being that it's bulky and my shoes do not fit with the wrap on.  So Tim suggested that I wear his shoes instead.  HAHAHAHAHAHAH!  Oh wait, it really does work on the right foot.  But the left foot is perfectly fine and normal and I rattle around in Tim's shoes like a marble in a cigar box on that foot. Seriously, I put it on, took one step and immediately stepped right back out.  heeheehee!  The solution?  One of each.

Does it look ridiculous?  Yes.  Do I care? Not much, no. Because it works and I seem to have passed the age where I give much of a damn what other people think.  Who knows, maybe I'll start a new fashion trend?  Remember a few decades ago when the little girlies were all wearing mismatched earrings?   There you go.

Feet are exceptionally complicated body parts.  In one foot alone there are 26 bones, most of them very tiny.  There are also 33 separate joints and it's all supported by tendons, muscles and ligaments that must work together for stability and mobility. Wow!  

Eventually it will heal, I've already seen signs of improvement and that makes me happy.  But in the meantime I won't be doing any hiking.  Instead, I'll be hobbling along with a flamingo in my sock and mismatched shoes on my feet.   Pretty sure you'll recognize me if you see me and then you can make the decision whether or not to acknowledge me.  LOLOL!!!   I promise  you , it won't hurt my feelings at all.  But it will make me laugh :)

Have a wonderful weekend y'all.

It's a classic, practically iconic.  A plain white tee-shirt.  Is there anybody who doesn't have at least one of these in their wardrobe?   Historically, in my mind, I immediately harken back to the 1950's ala James Dean. The Lords of Flatbush.  Marlon Brando.   But also Fonzie, right?

To my surprise when I checked to see the origin of the white tee it goes back a LOT farther. I mean a Lotalot!  Like all the way back to Medieval times!  I was shocked!  Of course it wasn't exactly the same nor was it worn the same way. It was never outerwear but under.  Initially it was the garment worn beneath armor and fancier, more ornate clothing,  And of course, it was made of silk, wool or linen as jersey not  yet having been invented.  

That didn't happen until the US Navy contracted with Hanes (yup those nice underwear people) to create the iconic easily washed, durable, lightweight white cotton tee worn by soldiers and sailors from the beginning of the twentieth century!  The white cotton tee really hit it's stride with regular folks in the 1950's - as I suspected.

I was surprised to learn that tee-shirts never had designs or graphics until the 1970's.  Oh  those fanciful Hippies and their anti-war protests. Peace!  I checked multiple sources and they all agree that's when it started.  Nowadays of course,  tee shirts can be plain, coloured, whimsical with designs or used as messages as to the wearer's interests or, essentially, walking billboards.  They can be seen in car repair shops and on fashion runways.   Variety is the spice of life, as they say.

I've never really been a 'message' tee-shirt kind of girl and I particularly do not care for tee shirts with pockets. Actually, it's usually just the one.  I refer to them as boob pockets coz that's where they sit on the shirts and they serve absolutely no purpose at all. Not a fan.  

I prefer either a scoop or a vee neck tee-shirt as the crew neck feels to me like it's choking me!  Almost, but not quite, as bad as a turtleneck. Just thinking about it makes me gag a little. Short sleeve is great for most of the year around here. If it's gets too chilly I can put a sweater or sweatshirt on overtop. Sort of like those old medieval folks eh?

As fond as I am of tee-shirts, right now I seems that other than my hiking tees, I only own the one white tee in the photo at the top of the page.  And that ought to be enough except that, it has begun doing that thing that tee shirts always do. It's beginning to disintegrate.  No really, that's what it's doing!  Every time it comes out of the wash, it's a little closer to its end as an article of clothing and its new life as a dust cloth.

I'm talking about the teensy tiny itty bitty little holes the keep cropping up.  Not tears, not cuts, actual separation of fabric just from being worn and washed.  sigh.  It's very sad.  This is what I'm talking about.  The photo is a little blurry but I think you can see it.

The only way it can be worn anymore is under something else. Dang.   I decided it was time to find myself a new white tee shirt (and if other colours happened to jump into the shopping cart, so much the better)

I guess I knew, from experience, that it wouldn't be a one store shopping trip. The likelihood of immediate success is very slim.  I am a rather picky, I will admit that freely.  I do NOT want boob pockets. I do not want crew neck. I specifically am seeking a white tee but again will accept other colours IN ADDITION not in place of white. And most importantly, I would like it to fit even somewhere close to my actual body shape and size.  That's the hardest part.  

I'm short. We all already know this.  I'm only 5'2" and most of that length is my legs.  I look basically like a box on sticks. Too long, disproportionate clothing is one of my arch nemesis'.  And they are legion!

I told Tim of my wishes and he was agreeable so we I headed out and decided to start with a store called Beall's.  It's nice store and a big one with Lots of choices.  There are loads of Beall's in Florida.  Sadly, their petite section is small. Very Very Very small. (to be fair it's small in most stores). I can get away with buying regular pants as my legs are quite long for a short girl but a regular tee-shirt on me would be closer to a nightgown in length.  I wish I was joking.  Therefore, I knew that I had to stick with the petite section if I had any hope of finding what I was seeking.

So there we are in the petite section. Very Few Tee-shirts in the already limited selections petite section. And in fact, as I looked them over, they seemed quite long for petites.  I held a singularly noxious shade of yellow tee  up to me and yes, as I suspected, it was Far Too Long. Not all the way to nightgown status but definitely mini-skirt length.  I do not want a mini-skirt length tee-shirt.   I suppose if I tucked it in it wouldn't matter so much but I strive for options. Again being picky, I want a tee-shirt that can be tucked in or not and still look good. It's possible.  I know it's possible because my one sad little disintegrating tee-shirt is the perfect length.

So Tim suggested that we just look at other shirts that could maybe serve the same purpose. Ok. I was disappointed, but open minded.  We divided, Tim headed to a few racks and me to my favourite - the sale rack - and we just started selecting solid colour tops in medium which is my size.  I tucked into the changing room and in very short order learned that, at least at Beall's, I am no longer a medium.  (gasp!)  I was horrified! But determined. "It's just a number, Sam", I told myself. "It doesn't matter."

I took a deep breath and we tried once again this time with size large.  Guess what, those didn't fit either !   What the actual heck?   Every single shirt was too tight across the bust and way too long. I was.... so.... hmmm, what was I? How do I describe how I felt?  I was disappointed of course. A little confused because every single shirt I own at home is a medium and it fits me perfectly. I guess honestly, I was starting to get a little pissed off. And not at the store, but at me.

Look, I've never felt good about how I look, not ever, not once in my entire life.  Moments like this in stores make me feel even worse about myself and nobody needs that. So without saying a word, but I'm sure my face looked like a storm cloud, I careful hung everything on the return rack and with Tim quietly walking beside me, we left.  When we got to the car he asked where I wanted to go next. I said "home. I want to go home". And so we did.

But I do still really need a white tee-shirt so at some point, I will have to get tough and get out there and try again, just at a different shop this time.  Beall's is clearly not my store.

 A  fan and some light, oh lordy, what is she going to talk about today?   Well, I'll tell ya.  It's a tiny bit of a rambly start so please bear with me coz it actually does go someplace.

First of all, despite what nearly every home interior decorator wishes, we have ceiling fans. We have lots of them. With the exception of the bathrooms and utility room there is at least one ceiling fan in every room. Why?  Because it makes a positive difference in keeping the house comfortable and the air circulated and we live in a place that is miserably hot and humid about six months of the year.  

But, in point of fact, we actually leave the fans running year 'round. Even in the mid to late autumn, winter and early spring when the weather is gorgeous and the windows are all open, the fans are running because it still does the same job, circulates air and keeps the house more comfortable.  In the hot months, obviously, (because we are not insane) the air conditioning is also on and we bless its little mechanical heart!   

One of the MANY things we've done since we've moved into this house was to add and replace fans and light fixtures.  Desperately needed to be done.  Tim was able to do the actual work of it, so we saved money there but the fixtures themselves?  Not cheap.  So it's all been done a little at a time, with eyes to the sales flyers. We are not stupid.

As it turns out, there is both good and bad to doing home improvement projects little by little.  The good far outweighs the bad which is great. And the bad really isn't bad, it's just less than ideal. We'll use that as the phrase of choice. Less than ideal.

The good parts of stretching out home improvement projects over your actual lifetime in a home are 1) it's far more affordable. All home improvement projects, whether you do them yourself or hire them out are expensive. They just are. It's a fact.  2) one has the time to really think about each choice and consider the best options. Never being rushed to a decision in the midst of five thousand other decisions is wonderful and, of course 3) the inherent stress of living through a renovation is done in bite sized, far more tolerable, chews instead of one massive migraine inducing horrible giant chunk of time that feels as if it's going to last forever and begins to take over every part of your life.

On the other hand, the less than ideal part of doing home improvement projects over a long period of time is that ultimately things don't match.    Turns out that, just like clothing,  tile selections, light fixtures, fans and even light switch styles change, all the time.  Who Knew?  Not us.

The funniest part to me is that I didn't even really notice this until the last night.  It was late, after 10 pm, full dark outside and I was heading toward bed but I have this quirk where I need to do a full house check before I can rest.  Are the doors locked, is there enough water in the kitty water bowls and hey, where exactly are the cats?  I guess I need to kind of call attendance.  No that's not it.  If they are sleeping, I don't want to disturb them I just want to know where they are.  Bed check, maybe?

So I looked in the usual kitty frequented spots and found one. But the other was missing, so the search continued. Eventually I made my way to the guest room but, y'know the whole black cat in the dark thing. I had to turn on the light. And in the dark last night, I had the dangest time, fumbling around trying to find the correct button. I kept blindly poking in various spots with no results.  Eventually I used the brightness of my cell phone to see what the heck I was doing.  Yes I used a light to turn on the light.  So sue me.  The point is, I was able to then successfully turn on (and then off) the light plus, bonus points, found the cat. He was fine.

That's when it struck me that very very few light switches in our house are the same. And isn't that the oddest thing. Is that how it works in everyone's house, or is it just us with our patchwork quilt of light switches?  A genuine question.  I don't recall it being the case in any other house we've ever lived in. Perhaps I am not remembering accurately, but I'm pretty sure that MOST light switches were pretty much identical.  This time, ours are not.

What do I mean by that?  Well, I suppose most of our lights witches are at least similar.  Toggle or rocker switches of one sort or another. Sometimes, just one solo switch: (note:  ignore all cat hair)

Sometimes, more than one. The tricky part here is which switch goes to which light. 

Sometimes it's a combo-platter:

All kind of schmancey with a dimmer bar:  (don't want to hear a single word about how I need to wash the tile around the light switch. I already know and it's on my list  of gotta do's.)

Then there's the old fashioned pull cord and there is no reason that can't be a little gussied up:

And a really gnarly old one in the utility room behind a ladder:

So as you can clearly see, they are similar but with small, rather insignificant differences (other than the pull cord but that one is easy, even in the dark).

Then we move on to the tricky bits.  Now these "light switches" and I use the term loosely also control the new ceiling fans in their various rooms which means more buttons.  Makes perfect sense eh?  Here's the sneaky part though, the buttons that turn the lights on and off are in  different places on each "light switch". Dang.  

As you can see, on the switch on the left the Onand Off buttons are near the top (outlined in blue). The On button is on the left and the Off button is on the right.  It takes me a second in the dark to find the top and then move down one row but just a second. No big deal.

The one on the right side however.....geez!  The On buttons,  all three of them, are at the bottom of the device (outlined in red) .  Just choose the "colour" of light you want, yellowish, white or blue?   Interesting.  Even more interesting is how the off switch is not close at hand.  Nope they opted to place it on the top right (outlined in blue).  So fumbling around without my glasses on for that one is hilarious and usually ends up with me going to get my spectacles to see what the heck I'm doing.

HAHAHAHAHAHA!  Isn't it bizarre that I only just realized this?  I guess you just sort of get used to things as you go :)

The other tricky bit that I didn't photograph is that when there is more than one toggle switch option,  I have to be careful to ONLY turn on/off the light and not the fan and it's ridiculously easy to hit the wrong buttons on ANY of our light switches for that.  Ironically enough, IF I accidentally turn off the fan in Some (not all) of the rooms, the only way I can turn the fan back on is to first flip the toggle switch, then pick up the associated remote and turn it on from there.  A multi-step project. Lesson learned. Do NOT turn off the fans.

So yes, remotes galore. They aren't just for televisions anymore. The new "light switches" are in fact, actually remotes that are mounted to the wall. Usually right next to the old actually light switches.  When we first got them it took me forever to train myself to not try to use the old switches but instead use the remotes.  I eventually got it but it can be filed under Old Dog/New Trick. Heh

Anyhoo, that's it.  That's what I realized late last night for the first time  and that's kind of crazy, but then so am I so I suppose it all works out in the end.  

Have a great weekend y'all!

t  
Nine?  What the heck?  Nine what?

It could a simple math problem:  3X3=9

A person can be dressed to the nines

It takes roughly 9 months to grow a new human being

In Numerology, 9 is a "master number" signifying completeness, wisdom and humanitarianism

Boston Red Sox Ted Williams proudly wore the Number 9

Speaking of baseball there are 9 innings in baseball, I think, and 9 players on each team

Dante wrote of the Nine Circles of Hell in his Divine Comedy

There are nine squares in a game of tic-tac-toe!!

But it's none of those things.

As of this past Saturday, October 4th, this Blog has been in existence for 9 years!  Wow!  Who could possibly have seen that coming?  

Definitely not me.  I had no end game in mind when I started. It was kind of an experiment.  I had never done anything like this before and it was more than a little intimidating initially.  Honestly, it took awhile before I settled into a comfy headspace and got the hang of it.  And at no point did I think, yeah, I'll still be doing this 9 years from now.  It was always a day by day, feeling my way through the darkness kind of thing.

Before I began I read up on Blogs and how to write them (of course I did) and it was interesting but, over the years,  I've probably broken every single "rule"  that I read. Not on purpose, I mean it isn't as if I read how to do it and then said, "well I'm going to do the exact opposite!" in an intentionally rebellious sort of way. It was more me saying to myself, as I went along, I'll give the rules a try.  Then, sometimes they didn't feel right to me. And one thing I've learned over the years is to follow my gut, listen to my instincts.  It may not ever make me rich but it will always help me to stay true to myself and that's far more important.

One of the big rules that I broke over and again was to write consistently.  By that they meant, establish the days and times the post will be published each week, every week, and stick to it.  I suppose it helps to keep readership up and honestly it makes sense. If this Blog were published at 10 am every Wednesday for example then readers might get in the habit of looking for my posts each week, year 'round,  on Wednesday mid-morning.  

Instead you have me writing whenever I have time and the mood strikes me.  I don't know about you but my weeks are not always consistent.  Sometimes I might have an early dental appointment or I pick up an extra shift at the museum and it's a morning shift or my hiking day with Joy moves from it's usual Thursday to a different day or the kittyboys need extra playtime and pets!  Then the writing happens later, if at all that day.

It's not that the blog isn't important to me, quite the opposite. It's that there are a lot of things in my life that are important and I'm constantly re-prioritizing things, not just through the week but throughout every day.   This isn't a 9-5 job, it's my creative outlet, a hobby, perhaps?  Hobby sounds too frivolous and as if I don't take it at all seriously which is not correct.  I do take it seriously, I do want to produce a good blogpost each time, but on a timeline that works for me.  Hmmm I'm not sure how to categorize this.  It happens, just, it happens whenever it happens, I guess.

I've also taken breaks from writing for vacations, visitors, medical issues and computer problems!  Sometimes those breaks were a mere few days or a couple of weeks but other times it's been bigger as in multiple months! Sometimes those breaks were doozies. Yikes! I was a little concerned after this last enormous gap (which was NOT my fault at all!) that no one would come back to read me .  I was prepared to say, well I guess this is it, the end of an era, it's over and done and great while it lasted.  :(   I was tickled beyond description to find that at least some of you came back.  YAAYAYAAAYAY!

You people, you wonderful, amazing and very forgiving folks, have stuck with me through it all and I cannot thank you enough.  This is like the worlds greatest partnership and I hope you all know how much I appreciate every single one of you

So Happy 9th Blogiversary to all of us!  Long May We Wave!

Look at those sweet little moo-ish faces! I kind of like cows and not just be cause they make delicious burgers!  Just as fellow creatures, I like them, their sweet natures (usually), their family orientated attitudes, how they interact with other creatures, and honestly, I think they are adorable.  

But what on earth do cows (whether you agree with my assessment of cattle in general or not) have to do with my life?? After all, is isn't as if I live on a farm or a cattle ranch, right?  There are no cows wandering around on our beaches or plodding slowly down Venice Avenue, I assure you.

The cow photo came about from the hike Joy and I did yesterday at Walton Ranch.  Walton Ranch is a 3,760 acre preserve AND working cattle ranch in North Port (so south of us) with more than 19 miles of trails (of which we only hiked 4 on Thursday - slackers!)  So yes this is the first in the long time of Photo Safari Reports!  I'll call this one the Bovine Trail Guardian Hike.    And I will get back to the reason for that specific title in a few minutes here.

First I wanted to, just as a blanket statement, say how much we loved Walton Ranch.  Joy and I hadn't visited in a few years and I'm not certain why not.  It's stunningly beautiful with a lot of different types of areas: woods, water, meadows, marshes and more.  Also, there are never a lot (or something any) other people there so it's peaceful.  And it's always a surprise, we never know what we will find and that may be the best part!

The trails are sometimes well marked, sometimes not, at times easy to traverse, other times not so much, but we had a trail map, a compass and gumption so off we went.  Here's some of the trails, just to start:

Our first enchantment, and that is exactly what it felt like, was discovering not one, but many Meadowlarks singing their little hearts out in the fields around us. We were literally surrounded by them!  What an absolute delight!

Then, as we left the open meadows and that beautiful song behind us, we entered a darker, cooler wooded area that had the largest collection of spider webs I've witnessed in quite some time!  They were abundant and silent and, in their own way, works of art:

But what about the cows?  I'll get to it!
​
Every time we turned a corner, as we crested each little rise,  each time we stepped out from around a large tree there was another surprise.  Sometimes a flower or a butterfly, maybe a flock of birds, now disturbed taking flight.  Once it was an unexpected little creek, the broken bit of fencing,  or the suddenly appearance of a deer (twice!).  There were golden masses of dragonflies and butterflies throughout the hike and every single sighting made me smile. There a small child that lives inside me whose heart surged with each new discovery:

Okay, now the cows.  About them. Every other visit to Walton Ranch that we've done, the cows were on the other side of whichever fence we happened near.  We would admire them, say hello, maybe take a photo or two and move on down the trails. This time, as it turned out, we were sharing trails. Oh my! That was certainly different and it would have been good information to have upfront.  The cattle gates were open so that the cows were free to wander as they wished.  What a great life for a cow, right?  But very unexpected to come around a turn, or step out from around a large copse of trees,  or hop across a little creek and suddenly come face to face with a couple of cows.  

'well hello pretty face', we said to the cows. They watched us quietly and calmly and we stopped to reassess the situation as it was unusual.  Neither of us is afraid of a cow, for heaven's sakes, but on the other hand, we are guests on that property and we don't want to upset anyone, human or otherwise.    Our first question to ourselves was, did we come through a fencegate  we weren't supposed to?  Definitely not.  Every cattle gate we came through merely had a sign to be sure to close it behind us. We did! So hmmm.  We approached slowly and gently, very aware that we were being observed and kept to the far side of the trail, giving them as much space as they desired.

At some point, we realized that it wasn't just those few cows, nope. Their friends were joining the group.  Hmmmm.  We stopped again.  Lots of cows, a small herd of them of varying sizes.  Some Mamas and young ones too which makes the situation a little more precarious.  Mama's go to great lengths to protect babies even when there is no harm intended. 

We were at the junction of three different trails and the cows were in the way of all of them. Decisions, decisions.  At that point we were hearing a racket of moo-ing. Somebody was upset. Oh dear. That was certainly not our intention. We had to make a choice and get out of their way, so we decided on the least cow-y trail and slowly, quietly, again as far away as possible, keeping our wits about us at all times, made our way to the shadowy, wooded non-cowish trail.  Whew! We breathed a sign of relief  a little too soon.

As we came around yet another corner we found a Very Large, Very Male, thoroughly unamused cow standing firmly across the entire trail. Thou Shalt Not Pass. Well crappola.  Now what shall we do.  You don't often hear of a person being bitten by a cow of course, and they are unarmed naturally, but they can kick and they certainly can trample if they wish.  We're talking about a half a ton of cranky potroast here. He can do whatever he likes.   What does one do in such a situation?

Well, I'll tell you what we did.  We sang.  I'm not certain why we did, though Joy told me later that she used to do that back when she was a Ranger in Yellowstone,  Upon occasion a herd of Bison would block the roads and she would sing to them.  It was instinct. Music to soothe the savage beast maybe?  Well not savage but absolutely not happy with us.  Joy started out and I joined in.  We took our time but didn't dawdle as we made our way around him, his eyes on us the entire time.  Finally through the gauntlet we laughed and took deep breaths of relief!  Nobody was traumatized, nobody was hurt, just a little singalong with cows and we each went on our merry ways.

Until it happened again, and later yet again!   It was crazy!  We kept coming around bends only to unexpectedly coming face to face with one or more cows blocking the trail.  And each time we would stop, then break into song and carefully make our way around them. The funniest part is that the singing began to attract other cows.  Come join the party!  Where there might have been two or three, suddenly there would be dozen giant animals, starring at us with their big brown eyes and physically imposing presence, listening to the songs.  Who knew??

So that's it,  the cow story as well as the rest of the hike. And now you too are privy to the Bovine Trail Guardian Photo Safari Report.   Hope you enjoyed!

​Have a terrific weekend!  Happy to say, I'll see you next week!