Spring is Here . . . NOT!

 

I live in the suburbs of Chicago.  My kind of town, Chicago is.  Well, we have the Sears Tower which is one of the tallest skyscrapers in the U.S. (World?)  Except the windows tend to fall out of some of our buildings in the windstorms.  But we have the "mag mile" of the finest shopping and eating in the U.S.  'Course, the sales tax just went up to a ridiculous 10%.  (Yes, I know there are places with higher sales tax, but not as many as there used to be!)  But the best thing is Lake Michigan.  Miles and miles of beautiful lakeshore, which, for a small or not-so-small price, you can walk along.  (Unless you happen to own property there, which means you're probably related to Donald Trump or Bill Gates.  And people who actually live on the lakeshore don't walk along it.)  But the lake is also a source of the Chicago metropolitan area's weather woes.

"Lake effect" is a term you learn early in life when you live in this area.  Lake effect snow is wetter and heavier than snow from the west.  I've lived through many snowstorms in this area, including the Blizzard of '79, during which the city of Chicago failed to clear roads and rails, causing the city and many of it's suburbs to shut down.  Well, I have discovered that this past winter (Dec. 1, 2009 to Feb. 28, 2010) has been the "snowiest winter since 1979."

"Snow has fallen on Chicago four of every seven days since Dec. 1, according to the National Weather Service. The city used 90 percent of its 390,000 tons of stored salt, and had to buy an additional 250,000 tons to rebuild the stockpile," said Matt Smith, a spokesman for the [Chicago] Department of Streets and Sanitation.

I said something similar in at least one of my Winter-dissing blogs.  It's nice to be right once in a while.

Anyway, as many people have heard the expression "March comes in like a lion, but goes out like a lamb," I half expected March to be snowy, too.  It wasn't too bad, though.  We had some at the beginning of the month.  But then we came to the week of March 15 through March 19.  Some of the most beautiful weather we've ever seen and it wasn't even Spring yet, officially.  (Meteorological Spring started March 1.)  Glorious sunshine chased away my blues, in temperatures in the upper 60's, the windows were opened for a little while and I got outside and started cleaning the flower beds.

Then came Spring, March 20.  It snowed--all freakin' day!  It didn't accumulate much because the roadways were still warm from the past week.  But cars needed to be cleaned off and it was that wonderful "lake effect" stuff.  Okay, to be fair, today, while not as warm as last week, it was sunny and pleasant.  Didn't quite know what coat to wear.  My lightest weight winter coat was too warm, but my old spring coat was too light.  It was a conundrum.

Well, Chicagoans would say, it is Springtime in Chicago, "where you run the heat in the morning, the air-conditioning in the afternoon and open the windows in the evening."  You can reverse that order and it will still apply.  Actually you can mix it up any which way, and it will still reflect a Spring day in Chicagoland.  It is, in a word, unpredictable.

So last week was a tease.  We get a lot of teasing from the weather all year 'round, but especially in the Spring.  I will personally hold the memory of last week close and hope it doesn't fade too much before Spring comes to stay.  Of course, there's no guarantee it ever will.  Last year we never had Summer.  Went right from a crappy Spring into a decent Autumn.

Someday I'll move where it's sunny and dry.  But then my skin will dry out and turn leathery.  Oh well, by the time I actually move, my skin will already be dried out and leathery!

Info on the Blizzard of '79 courtesy of Joe Carroll of Bloomberg.com.

I REMEMBER IT WELL
From "Gigi" (1958)
(Lyrics : Alan Jay Lerner / Frederick Loewe)

Honore (Maurice Chevalier) & Mamita (Hermione Gingold)

H: We met at nine
M: We met at eight
H: I was on time
M: No, you were late
H: Ah, yes, I remember it well
We dined with friends
M: We dined alone
H: A tenor sang
M: A baritone
H: Ah, yes, I remember it well

That dazzling April moon!
M: There was none that night
And the month was June
H: That's right. That's right.
M: It warms my heart to know that you
remember still the way you do
H: Ah, yes, I remember it well

H: How often I've thought of that Friday
M: Monday
H: night when we had our last rendezvous
And somehow I foolishly wondered if you might
By some chance be thinking of it too?
That carriage ride
M: You walked me home
H: You lost a glove
M: I lost a comb
H: Ah, yes, I remember it well
That brilliant sky
M: We had some rain
H: Those Russian songs
M: From sunny Spain
H: You wore a gown of gold
M: I was all in blue
H: Am I getting old?
M: Oh, no, not you

How strong you were
How young and gay
A prince of love
In every way
H: Ah, yes, I remember it well

My sympathies, Honore!  At least you had someone gracious who, while correcting you, wasn't scornful or annoyed.

Not long ago--I forget when exactly--I ran into someone I worked for a few years back.  The face was familiar, but I couldn't remember her name.  I'd been there several months when she left the company when she had her second child.  I'm standing there in J.C. Penney, drawing a blank.  She wryly offered her name at which point I said "Oh yes!  Of course!" as if I hadn't been standing there like a moron a minute before.  Then, in a double irony, I remembered her older child's name, but not the younger.  The younger child's name had been my second choice for my own daughter--something I had made a big deal about at the time!

Ah, yes, I remember it well!  Time was I could make a quick shopping trip by assigning each item to a finger.  Hah!  Now, when I look at my fingers in a store, I think "I need nail polish."  Oh wait, I forgot, I don't polish my nails.  My mother and I will sit and discuss, at great length, items needed from the store.  If I haven't written them down, I will forget 90% of them.  If I'm lucky.  Trouble is, I can't remember where I put the pad of paper I have for that purpose.

I can plan out my errands (my OCD forces me to run them without any backtracking), but when I stand up, I've forgotten half the places I need to visit.  And the only reason I remember half of them, is because I'll have some tangible reminder for them.  My book bag for the library, a package to go to the post office, that elusive shopping list for the grocery store, and so on.  Nowadays you can buy postage stamps at just about every drug store.  At my local CVS, they even have a big 8x10 postage stamp on their counter that they use for scanning the code.  We don't run out that often because I pay so many things online now, so when we're out, it'll take me four or five trips to CVS before I remember the stamps.  At that point I'm at Sam's Club when I finally remember and they only sell them in rolls of 100!  I should just get a roll, but it seems like an awful lot of money for stamps!

My daughter asks me to do things for her sometimes.  I tell her she has to write it down for me.  So she writes it down and puts it on my mirror.  Trouble is, I forgot to brush my hair that day.  Or, I take it off and put it somewhere I think I'll see it again.  Yep, I forget that I put it there (whereever "there" is).

I recently came across this item on Amazon:

"MedCenter Monthly Medication System with Reminder Alarm


4.9 out of 5 stars See all reviews (23 customer reviews)

23 Reviews
5 star: (20)
4 star: (3)
3 star: (0)
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In Stock.
Ships from and sold by NorthCoastWatches.

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TRI-DATE VERIFICATION: matching the visual dates on pill boxes and clock with audible alerts assures accuracy
TALKING ALARM alerts users when it's time to take medication
Set up to 4 ALARMS DAILY to alert you when your medication is due
LOUD & EXTRA LOUD sound settings ensure the alarm is heard
RED & GREEN COLOR CODING shows when daily dose is complete"

It's been edited a bit for space, but the gist of it is there.  I left the ratings so you can see how popular it is.  Also note the "only 1 left in stock."  This is obviously something a lot of people need and use.

At least I know it's not just me! 

Birthdays

So I celebrated my birthday on Thursday, the 25th.  I've always liked celebrating my birthday.  It isn't just because of the presents, although that's certainly a great part of it.  There's always the center-of-attention aspect, too, that has made my birthday highly anticipated.  But that isn't the biggest delight for me, either.

After some deep thinking, I realize it's the whole position of being self-centered for a change.  I don't mean that in a negative way, really.  And this is just what it means to me.

Being the youngest of four kids, I usually felt at a disadvantage with my siblings.  They were all bigger and more knowledgeable.  (Notice I didn't say smarter.)  They had, of course, experienced more than I had, at least while we were children.  My sister and one of my brothers, older than me by three years and six years, respectively, were also nastier.  Those two delighted in teasing me.  Maybe tormenting would be a better word, because there was nothing humorous about it, most of the time.  So my birthday celebration was my reprieve from their provocations.

My siblings would say I was spoiled.  I say that, yes, my parents bought me a lot of stuff, but they didn't do much with me.  My parents were scout leader and den mother for my two brothers.  My mom helped out with the girl scouts for my sister.  By the time I was getting into those things, my parents didn't even drive me to meetings.  My brothers did.  I even went to the library with my brother.  Again, my birthday was a day that they paid attention to me.

I was a goody-two shoes in high school and didn't rebel or cause trouble.  I had five or six years in my early twenties when I could do as I pleased, whenever I pleased.  I made a good salary and had no debts.  I was 26 when I had my daughter, and though I don't regret that for a minute, it was pretty much the end of "play time."  Since then, I went from caring for my daughter for nearly two decades to caring for my aging mother.  Once again, my birthday was my selfish day.

It's one of two or three days a year that I devote mostly to myself.  (Notice the word mostly not entirely.)  It has become the day that I don't cook, don't clean, don't do much for anyone else.  Oh, I still have to make sure my mother eats, but we either go out or order in.  This year, my daughter brought home individual pizzas for dinner.  She also provided the chocolate-peanut butter cupcakes that were out of this world!  She also had my computer cleaned.  That was something she and my mother were going to pay for together.  My daughter met someone at work who did it for free.

The gifts are great, though and I don't want to diminish the thought people put behind them.  My sister sent me a card with a Visa gift card.  My two bff's took me to lunch earlier in the week and gave me gift bags.  One friend gave me cash with a candle and other goodies.  The other gave me a handmade scarf, my favorite chai decaf tea and other goodies.  A present from my daughter and mother is forthcoming.  I'm thinking shoes.  It's something that I usually spend around 30 bucks on, but if they are buying them, I think I'll splurge on some really cool, brand name shoes.  Maybe Skechers.  I'm still looking.

You wonder why I'm picking out my own gift?  I'm really not sure why.  I mean, my sister and friends always give me great gifts (although I admit I gave my friend the chai tea suggestion), but my daughter seems to have trouble picking out something for me.  My mother probably would do okay, but she can't get out by herself.  My family has just been "list" people.  You made a list of things you wanted and they bought some of those items.  I don't have a "list."  Other than getting my computer cleaned, I just want new shoes.

The other day or two in the year devoted to mostly myself would be Mother's Day, of course.  And Christmas to a much lesser degree.

I had a very nice birthday this year.  Next year will be a milestone (or maybe a millstone!) but it'll still be my day.  I'm sure one year, I'll wake up and feel old.  Hopefully that's a few decades away!

My Favorite Addictions

ad·dic·tion   /əˈdɪkʃən/ [uh-dik-shuhn]

–noun
the state of being enslaved to a habit or practice or to something that is psychologically or physically habit-forming, as narcotics, to such an extent that its cessation causes severe trauma.
 
Origin: 1595–1605; < L addictiōn- (s. of addictiō) a giving over, surrender. See addict, -ion
 
Related Words for : addiction
dependence, dependency, habituation
 
I've been mulling this topic over for quite a while.  When I admit to being a biblioholic (my word), most people smile.  Some laugh.  Others reassure me that there's nothing wrong with that.  I beg to differ.
 
Right now, I have, within sight of my desk, about 20 stacks of books of varying amounts per stack.  That's just within sight of my desk.  Were I to go to my reading chair, there would be an additional ten or 12 stacks.  That does NOT include the four good sized boxes of books that are stored in my closet.  And these are just the books I haven't read yet.  Downstairs there are two, tall shelving units filled with books that I or my mother (or both of us) have already read.  Well, there's a few classics down there that I haven't gotten to yet.  Oh, and the Harry Potter series that I haven't finished.
 
Now, I am a frequent visitor to Half-Price Books.  They pay cash for used books.  Then there's Paperback Trading Company, who gives you store credit for books you bring in, making most of your purchases about 20% of the retail price.  I also donate quite regularly to the Justice Public Library.  So I get rid of almost as many books as I bring in.  It's that almost that accounts for the surfeit of books in my home.
 
I used to read a book a day.  That would be a "standard" paperback of approximately 350 pages.  Harlequin books I could do three over two days.  I would be taking books out just as much as I was bringing them in.  That has changed.
 
I am now, wholly, unresistingly addicted to Facebook.  Or, more specifically, Facebook applications such as Zoo World and FarmVille.  There are a couple of less time consuming apps that I also play.  I have also, on occasion, succumbed to the "chat' feature, although, not too much since it is a lot like talking on the phone, except you can edit your words!
 
Instead of reading as much, I spend my time feeding virtual baby animals in my zoo, scavenging for treasure in other people's zoos, harvesting crops on my farm and helping chase away raccoons, get rid of weeds and fertilize crops on other people's farms.  That's just the most time consuming stuff.  Then there's decorating, building and expanding.
 
I really enjoy these apps.  I have made Facebook friends solely on the basis of what games they play.  I now boast of friends in the U.K., Belgium, Germany, Australia and more.  I've met up with old school friends.  Some respond, others don't.  The ones who do are very friendly and glad to hear from me.  I've found people who were friends through a job I had over 20 years ago.
 
I get brief glimpses into the lives of many of my cousins, with whom I have caught up these last few months.  It's great hearing about one cousin's baby taking his first steps.  Or finding out another cousin (whom I hadn't heard from in 35 years) is a grandfather four times over.  Or the cousin who moved from Oklahoma to Maine and I knew before most of my family did.  Oh, there are a couple of cousins who haven't responded to my friend requests, but that's okay.
 
I get to see pictures of these people and their families.  Many times their pets and homes, too.  It really is a "social" website.  I've laughed, sighed, and commiserated with these people.  We sent Christmas and Valentine's greetings to each other.  It will never replace my friends that I go to lunch with, or those I visit with each autumn, but it certainly helps to keep me from being too self-absorbed.
 
So, when I'm reading, I think about my farm or my zoo and when I'm working my farm or zoo, I'm thinking about the book I'm reading.  Weird, huh?  What can I say?  If someone asks which I'd give up--reading or Facebook--I think I'd have a nervous breakdown before I came up with a decision!
 
The "I'm Addicted to Facebook" Smile courtesy of iSmile (on Facebook, of course!):
 

Dogs

I'm in a bookstore the other day when a guy walks in with a big dog on a leash.  No, it's not a lead-in to a joke.  (I'm not sure where you'd go with that. . .and I don't think I want to know.)  It's true!  Being more absorbed in my quest for books, I didn't get a good look at the dog; I just know it was tall.  He didn't bark or shove his nose anywhere he shouldn't, nor did he nervously pant.  He was, as his owner said, a very good dog.

My point?  I have to have a point to this?  Okay, I do have one.  Why was a guy bringing a dog into a bookstore?  He most likely had been to the nearby PetSmart, where, of course, you can bring your pets with you.  (I've never tried to bring one of my cats and never will.  I value my skin too much.)  But why not take the dog back to the car?  I'd have thought maybe he walked to the store, but I doubt it.  The area is not conducive to foot traffic.

Well, I never did find out why the dog came in with the guy.  (Btw, the guy headed right to the section with books on--you see it coming, don't you--dogs!)  But that little incident got me thinking.  And researching.

1.  From about 1950 until about five years ago, cats outnumbered dogs as pets two to one.  Now some of that was due to the size of the animal.  With a few exceptions, a cat doesn't get much bigger than 12 to 20 pounds.  But there are more than a few dogs who weigh more than an average human.  Mastiffs and St. Bernards for two.

2.  Cat popularity surged in the 70's and 80's with the bigger influx of women heading into the workplace, or more specifically, into jobs that were outside of the typical "9 to 5."  "Housewives" were becoming a rare breed and that left no one at home to care for Fido.

3.  The 1990's saw an increase in creative entrepreneurialism.  Services for the busy executive became very popular.  Everything from house-sitting to dog-walking.  My brother-in-law's younger brother had a "doggy day care" in downtown Chicago for a while.  With that, people realized they could work and have a dog.

I must point out here, that, although I classify myself as a "cat person,"  I have never disliked dogs (except for the ones that drool profusely.  My uncle had a St. Bernard and my family thought I was afraid of him.  I wasn't, the drooling disgusted me).  I grew up with several dogs, mostly German Shepherds.  I had a Beagle as a child whom I loved dearly.  But our dogs were never trained.  They trained us.  Scratching, whining and barking were all met with someone leaping up to see to the dog's needs (or wants).

Last summer, a friend of mine got their daughter a Puggle.  That's a Pug/Beagle hybrid.  Very cute.  Happily, little Abby the Pugle has been to puppy obedience school already.  I believe they have plans to further her education, too.  So a pleasant, well-trained dog is quite enjoyable to be around.  My cats may disagree, but that's neither here nor there.  (I have noticed more than a few people with cat-and-dog households say that either they get along fantastically, or the cat rules the roost.  I have to smile when my sister tells me that her cat will smack her dog on the nose.  Just to remind her who's in charge.)

Now I was leading up to something here.  Oh, yes.  With a well-trained dog, you can go almost anywhere.  In the city, you can find restaurants that will allow you to bring a dog in with you.  So why not a bookstore?  As long as the owner takes responsibility for any messes, why not take them with you wherever you go?  My only concern would be for small children who do not understand that ear-pulling hurts and a growl is a warning of worse to come.  But, if the dog has been properly trained, why not carry paperwork to that effect?  For dogs that are too big to be carried, have a simple certificate that allows the dog to travel with its person.  I mean, humans have to have an ID to go almost anywhere nowadays.

Doggy passports.  An idea whose time has come.

What, Me A . . . Sandwich?

Technically, I'm not.  A Sandwich that is.  The "Sandwich" Generation is described as those middle-agers who are still raising children while also taking care of an elderly parent.

While my daughter may act immature, she is, chronologically anyway, an adult.  But since I still give counsel (sometimes it's even asked for), advice and the occassional approval (usually on her outfit and accessories), and since she and I reside under the same roof with my mother, I count myself as one of them.  A Sandwich.

It makes life . . . interesting, I guess.  If it weren't for having both of them in my day-to-day life, I suppose I would spend many more hours on Facebook applications.  (Like Zoo World and FarmVille aren't enough!  Although many of my FB friends play both games that I do and several more besides.  But I digress.)

Fortunately, my mother can still do some things on her own.  This allows me to get out to shop, run errands, see friends, etc.  But because of limited mobility and her tendency to fall down, she can't live alone.  She doesn't want to live alone, either.

I am "on call" 24/7.  It took my daughter a few years and some maturity to see that, although I don't have to get up and get to a job on time and stay there for 8 hours, I do, in point of fact, work.  Sometimes my daughter causes more work for me than my mother.  Maybe.  It'd be a close call.

With no disrespect to my mother, it is like having two children in the house.  They both leave their stuff laying around the house.  They both look to me to help them with their insurance and other paperwork.  They both take me for granted.  That may sound a little harsh, but it's true.  Who will load and unload the dishwasher?  Who takes the garbage to the curb each week?  Who vacuums, decorates, cuts the cats' claws, cleans the windows, etc?  Me.  Well, you knew that already, huh?

That's not to say I don't nag.  With my daughter, I feel like a wife sometimes.  "Put the toilet paper on the holder."  "Pick up the bath mat after your shower."  "Dirty dishes go in the dishwasher."  (With the toilet paper, she actually set the roll on top of the holder, saying that it was "on the holder"!  Lawyers have nothing on lazy kids!)  She's gotten better--most of the time, not always.  She actually told me that if I wrote these things on post-it notes and put them on doors, mirrors, whatever, that she would remember to do them.  So I should have multi-colored sticky notes all over the house?!  She seems to think this would be perfectly acceptable.  Um, no?

With my mother, she's either forgetful, or not paying attention.  In either case, I refuse to put her empty water bottles in the recycle bag.  They will sit just where she left them (unless the cat knocks them down--then I put it right back where it was) until she notices and takes care of it.  Sometimes she forgets to put the peanut butter (something she uses almost daily) away.  That, too, sits where it is until she notices.  Now, it's not like I stand over her and make her take care of her stuff.  I just leave it to wait for her.

So, there you have it.  I'm a Sandwich.  I guess I should be grateful that I only have one child and that she is grown (mostly).  I do not know how people with younger and multiple children cope with them and an aging parent.  God bless 'em.

Yet More Winter Kvetching

I just can't seem to deal with this winter very well.  Although we've not set any records, we've had very cold temps and a lot of snow this season.

So, this morning (today being payday--or more acurately, benefits day), I get up early to head for WalMart.  Imagine my suprise when I found out it was 10 freakin' degrees outside!  I guess if I checked the forecast more often I would've known.  Oh well, internet said it would be a high of 28, so not too bad.  I figured it would be a bit warmer by the time I left the store and had to bring everything in the house.

An hour and a half later it was up to 15 degrees.  Could hardly contain myself.  When I propped the door open to bring in the bags, the cat didn't even try to get out.  Smart cat.  In fact, there wasn't a single cat anywhere near the back door, which was really kind of nice because usually I'm tripping over one of them when I'm bringing stuff in the house.

I still needed to get to the pharmacy, but I thought I'd see how much it actually warmed up.  At 2:30 p.m. I went to CVS.  It had reached 21 degrees.  Okay, that's pretty good (even if not the high predicted--weird how they still get paid even when they're wrong).  But when I went outside--it was snowing!!  Granted, it was that light, powdery stuff, but . . . still it was annoying.

Well, we didn't get much accumulation, thank God.  But there's always tomorrow!

I am grateful that I got to see the sun first thing this morning.  Even if it didn't stay.  It's SAD.  No, not boo-hoo.  Seasonal Affective Disorder.  I actually feel better in the late afternoon and evening because I have a lamp that mimics the sun.  Although it is NOT the same as the sun itself, it helps.

In a little less than two months, it'll be officially Spring.  Which, in the Chicago-area, means little.  It'll be June before we see any really nice weather consistently.  Unless it's like last year, when we really never had spring and summer . . .

 That's one serious bicycle rider: