Archive for the ‘just musing’ Category

1. ~If you have arthritis and you are planning a move from a warm weather area, you should probably not move to a cold, wet region.

2. ~When you have food on the stove and you’re on the computer at the same time, you should probably set a timer.

3. ~Online friends are not necessarily the same people you would pick as friends in real life.

4. ~Always stock up on toilet tissue. It will get used. If you don’t have it and you need it, you’ll be very sorry.

5. ~Those old, ratty sweaters that are so comfortable to you look a lot rattier to strangers. Maybe you should reconsider wearing them outside of the house.

6. ~When you’ve taken the time to write yourself a note reminding you to do something important, you should take the time to read it!

~If you are going to write a blog post with a numbered list, figure out ahead of time how to get your draft copied and pasted into the text box WITH the numbering intact.

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Remember Leave It To Beaver? Remember Eddie Haskell, Wally’s friend? You know, the one that was ready to stab you in the back while kissing up to you? Remember how the look on his face would change whenever a grownup came within hearing shot? Remember him saying something like, “Hello Mrs. Cleaver. You look very lovely today, Mrs. Cleaver.” Then he’d turn around and his regular face would return. Remember? Remember?

Well, I had all but forgotten until I moved here. It was August. Because of the heat, I pretty much stayed indoors most of the day and ran out to do my errands in the early evening. On my way down the street, I would run into a group of teenagers playing basketball in the middle of the street. I would slow way down to give them a chance to get out of the way. They would all scoot off, giving me dirty looks for interrupting my game. All except “Eddie Haskell” who would look right into my car window with that big sugary smile and then he’d wave hi to me. The moment I went by, I could see his look change in my rear view mirror. That’s when Leave It To Beaver came back to me, especially Eddie Haskell. I even told my daughter about it. At first, she didn’t believe me. She thought I was exaggerating but then one day she was in the car with me when it happened and she cracked up saying I was right. It was definitely an Eddie Haskell look!

Now that summer is over and they’re not out there playing every night, I kind of miss Eddie Haskell. Once in a while, I’ll see him on my way down the street and I’ll get that Eddie look from him. Every time. It cracks me up.

I can hardly wait til they start playing basketball out in the street again!

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While consulting the internet for a list of topics to write about and post on my blog I came across a question that struck my fancy. It read: “What is one thing you really like about yourself?” I’m not one for tooting my own horn so I would normally turn away from this type of question but instead, it called out to me.

My smile.

That’s probably the one thing I like most about myself. To me, a smile is the pathway to a person’s soul. If you can get someone to smile, you can tell if it is a genuine one or not. And that smile can lead you to a person’s soul because there is a lot that people can hide but a smile is one thing that is difficult to squelch.

I remember many years ago, when I was in high school, the United States suffered its first major oil crisis. We had gas rationing and could only get gas on certain days of the week (determined by whether our license plate was ended in an odd or even number). As one of the “fixes” for the oil crisis, Congress decided that we would stay in Daylight Savings Time past our normal time. This meant that it was much darker in the morning. My high school had begun having a 7th period that year, which was actually a Pre-1st period PE class. It was designed for kids that needed to make up units for classes they had failed. That wasn’t me. I was way ahead; however, I was missing a couple of classes for my college prep so taking the Early PE class was what I needed to do. My mother wouldn’t let me take it because she was sure it was going to be too dark in the morning and I’d be mugged by someone waiting in the dark halls at school. I went to talk to one of the Assistant Principals thinking he could talk to my mom. He was the one administrator at my high school that was a native Spanish speaker and he had spoken to my mom on previous occasions. His name was Mr. Cordova. He smiled at me and told me that I should just promise my mom that I’d smile a lot to brighten up the halls!

Everyone used to comment on my smile and I liked that a lot. As an adult, the compliment was that my kids had my smile! That always made me happy.

I know that when I look for a picture of myself to put up as an icon on various sites, I always look for one with a smile because that’s how I like me best…smiling!

So here’s a smile at y’all!



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When I was married (at least two lifetimes ago) my husband and I shared everything, even the food off of our plate. We gladly gave each other a bite of whatever we happened to be eating. This was just the way it was with us. We didn’t know any different. It wasn’t a big deal.

My husband’s best friend from high school got married about a month before we did. The four of us became good friends. Molly had been a law student at Stanford while I was an undergrad there so I knew her better than I knew her husband who lived on the east coast and visited only rarely during that time. Once they married, they moved to San Diego and my husband and I lived in Santa Monica. When they came to town to visit her family, we would often get together with them. I would cook dinner for all of us. When we visited them in San Diego, we would often go out to eat as Molly didn’t cook much.

One night, we were at a restaurant in Old Town San Diego. The four of us had each ordered something different. Each of us was enjoying our food and commenting on how great the food was. The three of them were talking law as they were all lawyers. I listened and participated in the conversation. By then I was no stranger to “law topics” so I chimed in with comments and questions. In the middle of it all, Louie asked Molly for a bite of her food. She refused. She made a big deal about refusing loudly and, in my opinion, rudely. All he wanted was one taste. No said Molly. No way. The conversation went on and a few minutes later, my husband reached onto my plate with his fork and took a taste. I didn’t even notice. I just went about eating my food and listening to the conversation. Then he reached over for another bite and I nudged my plate toward him for easier access. We went on talking then Louie turned to Molly and said something along the lines of “Hey! Molly you should take lessons from Corina. Look! She lets her husband eat off of her plate. I’ve been watching and he takes food from her and she doesn’t get mad at him!”

I hadn’t even noticed that he was eating off of my plate because we did it all the time. Molly and Louie just watched in. She claimed that her food was her food and if he wanted it he should order his own. He replied that all he wanted was a taste. We just watched as they argued and I think we both became a little self-conscious. We wondered if we were the ones who were wrong. Maybe we were the strange ones. Maybe we were supposed to deny each other that one little taste that we were enjoying ourselves.

I am reminded of that night’s dinner, more than thirty years ago, and I still wonder if we were the odd ones.

(This was inspired by the prompt at Manic Monday.)

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Just when I thought I had heard everything, I heard the following ignorant statements in the same twenty four hour period, from different people:

-Only women who cheat on their husbands miscarry. Therefore, if a woman miscarries, she must have been cheating on her husband.

-The rise in gay people is due to women ingesting soy products. (Of course this assumes that there is a rise and not that we just hear about it more, nowadays. It actually has no logic to it so I won’t even try to explain it.)

I don’t know if people are getting stupider or what!

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That I have nothing clever to post like STEVO and ROBIN and DAVID and others. Nothing entertaining or wise. I tried to think of something clever to post but there wasn’t anything in my mind, except this SILLY LITTLE POEM nagging me and so I had to write this post…

This is not to say

I have written

A post

That was all

About feet

And which

You possibly found


For something

Excuse me

It was brilliant

So short

And so bold

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When I left California in early August, I drove through smoke and ash and ugliness as wildfires raged all around me. It wasn’t the California I had been born in or grown to love for fifty-two years. It was a kind of bittersweet trip as I made my way north, accompanied only by Molly, my kitty cat.

As I drove back to California this weekend, I was welcomed by clear blue skies and the smell of clean, fresh air (at least north of Sacramento we have fresh air). What a difference. Here was the California I loved. I don’t regret the move. Oregon Is home now and has felt like home for some time. It holds many wonders waiting to be discovered. I look forward to those discoveries and the exploration that will lead me to them.

I guess you can’t really go home again. Once you leave that home, it is no longer home, regardless of any beauty or sentimental memories you may have of it. It was wonderful to drive through the beauty and see that it is still there and it was great to drive around and know where I was going without my GPS, but it’s not home any more. Now there is a new home, one that I will be glad to get back to when I leave California again.

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