Ancient History PC

In the olden days, I didn’t need books to find answers to my questions.  I could avoid the library.  And research?  Be serious.  Not me.  Nope, I could tap the fountain of knowledge.  At any time of the day or night.  Easily.  Most of the time I just had to roll over or maybe, during business hours, pick up the phone.

My ability to get all the answers became widely known amongst my circle of friends.  And so whenever I or any of my friends needed to know a bit of history, a philosophical principle, how to do a math problem, they’d come to me.  They knew I could solve the mystery.  Sort of.

“Elyse,” they’d say, “would you ask John …”

And no matter what the question, John always knew the answer.  Always.

But then came personal computers and search engines.  I think John was hurt by the fact that I  no longer called him for all the answers.

In the intervening years, somehow I forgot.  Or maybe I’d gotten used to being married to such a smart guy.  Or maybe I was just used to having easy access to all of life’s mysteries at my fingertips.

Not long ago, though, I was thrown back into the early days of my marriage.  Yup, I was reminded just how much stuff is packed into my husband’s brain.  It was almost as good as reliving that very first kiss.  (But not quite.)

You see, he and I were driving through Pennsylvania a few weeks ago.  We passed farm fields ripe with corn, a plant I knew by sight from my days of stealing it from farm fields in my home town.  There were also fields of other plants right next to the corn, but I didn’t recognize them.  Apparently, I had never stolen those plants.  Obviously they don’t taste good with butter.

“I wonder what that is growing in those fields,” I casually asked John.

“They’re soybeans,” he replied without missing a beat.  “They need the same soil and conditions as corn, so they are often planted near each other.”

I looked at my husband and remembered how, when we were first married, I could always count on him to know whatever I didn’t know.  He still does!  Even after all this time slummin’ with me!

I smiled at him.  “You know, it’s just like being married to Google.”

John has filled in many of the blanks in my life.  He’s been doing that now for 27 years (on the 20th).

September 10th is John’s birthday.  Happy birthday to the smartest guy I know.

For my long-time bloggin’ buddies, you’ll know that John and I have very different musical tastes.  But this is a song we both love, and a version we both think is one of the best.

With it, I toast the very best husband I’ve ever had.  Of course he knows that he’s the best husband I’ve ever had.  After all, he knows everything.

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Filed under Bloggin' Buddies, Conspicuous consumption, Diet tips, Family, History, Humor

If you compliment a cupcake….

I’ve just joined Diamonds or Dust looking to give/get valuable input on ways to improve my writing and to help other folks improve theirs. Check it out; see if it might be something that would work for you, too.

Grayson Queen's avatarDiamonds or Dust

vanilla cupcake 3To help explain what Diamonds or Dust is about, let me tell you about my thesis.   If you give a human a compliment on their cupcakes, they’ll want to take out a fifty thousand dollar loan and start a cupcake business that will probably fail.

Living in Southern California, I’ve seen a number of boutique cupcake shops open up in nearby malls, but we’re living in a world that is dying from diabetes and obesity.

So how well can a five dollar cupcake really do?  Enough to pay off the loan to purchase the baking equipment, store front redecoration, rent and pay yourself?  Probably not.

In fact, it was probably a very bad business move.

So why did they do it?

Because one day someone offered to make cupcakes for a friend’s birthday party.  And the cupcakes were pretty good, and everyone said so, and then they said, “You could…

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Filed under Humor

A Fiery Mystery in Maine

Dum Dum Dum, Dump Dump Da Dom

Dum Dum Dum Dump Da Dom

Storm Clouds Comin' In

Storm Clouds Comin’ In

There are some songs that shouldn’t leave the shower.

There are some songs you just don’t want to have stuck in your head.

There are some songs that you just don’t want to have become part of your life.

 

Smoke on The Water is one of them.

Our little retirement/vacation cottage in Maine caught fire in July.  Spontaneously combusted.  Burst into flame for no reason anybody has ever figured out.

We weren’t there.  Nobody was there, luckily.

Even more luckily, it burned just a little bit.  The nice part, naturally.  Not the kitchen which I would have been happy to replace.  Not the bathroom that has pink 60s tiles with cute pink fishies.  Nope.

The nice part by the living room burned – the picture window that overlooks my masthead and “No Point.” [That’s the bit of land in the picture that looks like the first point.   John dubbed it “No Point” because from our angle it looks like a little point, but it isn’t a point at all.]

Interior ceiling

And even more luckily, it happened at lunch time, when a guy who was renting a cottage across the cove was relaxing outside with a sandwich, noticed smoke and called the fire department.  The fire chief, a volunteer, was working construction two doors down.  He arrived within minutes and the damage was kept down to mere pain in the ass status, as opposed to total devastation.  So we are lucky.  Very lucky.

Volunteer Firemen -- Risking their lives

Volunteer Firemen — Risking their lives

Nobody can figure out what happened.  There were no bad wires, no combustibles in the attic.  No evidence of vandalism.  Nada.  A flamin’ mystery.

Danielle exterior roof

We are still trying to find the person who reported it, so we can thank him.  He was renting a house across the way, and we don’t yet know who he was or how we can get in touch with him.

So John and I up here in Maine, looking at a different angle, trying to get work going on our house.  And saying thank you to a whole lot of folks.

Special thanks to the firefighters who arrived so quickly and saved our cute little place.  And to the mystery man who saw it and saved it.

Huge thanks also Doug and Renee, who have done so much in the immediate aftermath and ever since.

To Danielle and to Ella for breaking the bad news.  To Annette and Danielle for the pictures.

Thanks to Bill and Ken and the other insurance folks who are helping us rebuild.

And I’m thanking my lucky stars that it wasn’t worse.

 

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Filed under Huh?, Maine, Music, Mysteries

Changing The Name Game

A perfect weapon.  Because, after all, what’s in a name?

 

My thanks for this video, and for being the first person to encourage me to start a blog, goes to my friend and colleague Bao.

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Filed under Campaigning, Climate Change, Conspicuous consumption, Elections, Humor, Hypocrisy, Law, Pets, Sandy, Stupidity

Passing Through

It’s a place I’ve tried to avoid since the turn of the millennium.  I pass through there regularly, but I bite my lip, swallow past that huge lump in my throat, and try not to cry.  I do not stop.

That’s because it’s such a lovely place with a huge hole.  Last year that hole got bigger.  Not just for me but for all the folks who love its windy, tree lined roads, its historic houses, its New Englandness.  For all those who love children.  For all those who hate violence.

My sister Judy lived there.  I miss her.

I was forced to go through there.  As we drove north to Maine on Saturday, traffic came to a halt.  I knew the roads from a few decades of driving them.   I took them to get where we were going.  Yes,  we got off the highway, and I wound my way down the streets of Newtown, Connecticut.  Through Sandy Hook.

We stopped for gas at a Mobil station right next to the Blue Colony Diner, where my sister helped me laugh through my troubles thirty years ago.  Where the two of us solved all the world’s problems over coffee and pie.  Where we laughed and cried, but mostly laughed.

On the door of the gas station was a sign that made me cry, too.  But in a different way.

Google

Google

Yes.  Sandy Hook Chooses Love. Love over hate.  Love over violence.  Love over the 2nd Amendment.

And so do I.

 

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Filed under Childhood Traumas, Criminal Activity, Driving, Family, Gun control, Health and Medicine, Hey Doc?, History, Politics, Stupidity