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It’s a Blog Post, Not a Miracle

It is Saturday morning, and I am flustered.  Today is the date of my (wait for it) Halloweddinganniversaweenary Party.  I have to shop!  I have to cook!  I have to finish cleaning!  I have to figure out my costume!  I HAVE TO MAKE MY BLOG POST!!!

Today is going to be an all-day event, with out of town friends arriving and much fun planned.  I really wanted to make my blog post later, since the aforementioned shopping may take me to various Mohawk Valley spots.  However, later I might be visiting with friends. I remember trying to type in a blog post on the deck with two friends and Steve present.  I felt I was missing all the jokes then.  What will it be like later today?

So I guess this is kind of a pre-Scattered Saturday post.  Perhaps in typing out my plans I can consolidate exactly what I intend to do and I will end up by feeling less flustered.  But I’m not counting on it. For heavens’ sake, Cindy, it’s a blog, not a miracle!

I need a few more veggies for my veggie tray, so I intend to stop by T & J’s Fruits and Vegetables in Herkimer, NY.  Just as a side note, I was greviously disappointed when I learned that crudites were nothing more than chopped up raw vegetables.  To this day, I refuse to say I am serving my guests crudites.  I have a veggie tray.

A fall favorite I felt I must have is apple cider.  I intend to go to Parker’s Cider Mill in Ilion for that.  I may check out the Farmer’s Market while I’m there.  I have not been to the Ilion Farmer’s Market at Clapsaddle Farm on Otsego Street (just to sneak in the address in case anybody needed it) all summer.  I used to go with Tabby, my late beloved schnoodle.  She loved it there.  I felt a little too sad to go without her but always knew I would go sooner or later.

OK, I guess those were the only two real local places I had thought to visit.  I also might go to the dollar store for paper plates and the grocery store for stuff not available at T & J’s or the Farmer’s Market, but those places don’t have the Mohawk Valley cachet I crave.

On the brighter side, I’m over 350 words.  That’s pretty respectable for a flustered kind of post.  And I don’t think I did a whole lot of  whining.  Not an excessive amount. If you think this was an excessive amount, well, I just might whine about that too.  I’ll save it for Wrist to Forehead Sunday.

 

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Power to Puzzles!

I bid you welcome.  I say it in a Count Dracula voice, since this is the night before my Halloweddinganniversaweenary Party (did you notice I didn’t say “wait for it”?).   Last night somebody remarked that it was a Halloween party NOT on Halloween, even though the holiday conveniently falls on Saturday this year.  Somebody else said, “It’s Orthodox Halloween.”  Gee, I wish I’d have said that.

That’s all by the way.  I guess I’m veering a little into Non-Sequitur Thursday territory on Lame Post Friday, but I feel sure my readers will forgive me.  The fact is, I once again did not write a post while at work today.  I was working on anacrostic puzzles in a puzzle book I just happened to have with me (why, no, officer, I don’t know HOW that puzzle book got into the bag of stuff I take to work with me) (that’s what I say to the Blog Police who would like to write me a ticket for three foolish posts in a row) (I say, put it on my tab, because it is sure to happen again).

Where was I?  Ah yes, Lame Post Friday. I thought this week I would indulge in a little table-top psychology instead of my usual half-baked philosophy.  The puzzle-book fits right in with today’s psychological observation (to make a break from random observations) (as you see, I am taking NO break from parenthetical comments).

Many years ago, a roommate of mine LOVED to do jigsaw puzzles, and she was very good at them.  One day she wondered why she loved them so much.

“It’s bringing order out of chaos,” I said, as if it were obvious.  She laughed at my table-top psychology.  At least, she did not accuse me of table-top psychology in so many words, but I got the expression from stories about her mother.  Her mother, a wise and witty woman taken from us much too soon, apparently indulged in a great deal of table-top psychology, always using that self-deprecating term to excuse herself.

I thought about this little exchange when I began to wonder why I love to do cryptogram puzzles.  The answer came to me right away:  looking for meaning in gibberish.  That works for anacrostic puzzles too.  I was so pleased with my insight that I posted it on my friend’s Facebook page (as regular readers know, Facebook is an important part of my life; I don’t know why I haven’t created a Facebook page for the blog yet).  She commented that I was right and that jigsaw puzzles were also a form of meditation for her.

I say this is cool.  And I just thought of my title for today’s post.  I am especially pleased that, even though this is a foolish post, I did not whine about not being able to write one.  I hope you are all having a lovely Friday.

 

At Least I Like Sourdough Bread

Yesterday I talked about a lunch under stress (good lunch, not bad stress, in case you missed it). I don’t always have stress when I eat out and I don’t get to eat out as often as I would like to. However, we were celebrating Steven’s birthday weekend last weekend, so I make bold to offer two eating out posts in a row.

One of my favorite things to do on my day off is to eat at a good hometown diner. The Mohawk Valley is blessed with several. Last weekend, when my husband Steven and I had a rare Saturday off together, we began our day with breakfast at Liz’s in Mohawk, NY.

Liz greeted us as we walked in and we sat down, admiring as always the rooster decor. Several specials were posted on the wall, but we also looked at menus. Decisions, decisions. At least I knew I was definitely getting something with toast, because Liz serves Heidelberg Bread. Yum!

I finally settled on two eggs over medium with homefries and sourdough toast. Steven ordered the same only adding bacon, cholesterol be damned. When I confided that sourdough was my favorite I learned that Liz doesn’t like it. Heresy!

“All the more for me,” I said, although I contented myself with one order.

The potatoes were perfection, and the eggs were just the way I like them, yolks runny, whites not. While we ate we got to chatting with two ladies sitting at the next table. One of them had seen us on stage at Ilion Little Theatre, although she had missed my most recent theatrical triumph. We both expressed a wish that Steven would be in another play soon. He is considering the prospect.

The Dog Whisperer with Cesar Milan was on the television, which led to a discussion about our dogs. We probably could have sat down with another cup of coffee and chatted for another hour. I do love conversation. Conversation and a good breakfast are an excellent combination for a Saturday morning.

Liz’s is located at 150 Main St., Mohawk, NY, phone number 315-941-5609. They are open at 7 a.m. 7 days a week with dinner Wed., Thurs. and Fri. till 7 p.m., Sat. till 5 p.m.

I Held My Shoulders Still While I Typed

People who complain about their aches and pains all the time are tiresome. Then again, it is Wrist to Forehead Sunday. I just got back from a nice walk with my beloved husband and dog so had thought to offer a Pedestrian Post. We’ll see how it goes.

We got some blessed relief from the frigid temperatures today with highs reaching 30. I know that is still below freezing, but it didn’t feel freezing. As these temperatures had been predicted earlier in the week, I had been looking forward to a walk the past three days (since Wednesday, the last day a walk was miraculously possible). That was before the pain, the pain.

I am susceptible to muscle spasms, also known as a crick in the neck (no, really, that is what a physician’s assistant told me once). For the past couple of days I have had an alarming stiffness in my neck and shoulders. It hurts to move! It hurts to lie still! The only thing that doesn’t seem to hurt is complaining about it.

Nevertheless, dogs like to go for walks. I was determined that at some point Tabby would get one. The other thing I was determined on was that Steven would not have to shovel the driveway alone. It snowed like the proverbial sonofabitch yesterday. We got out prior to 7 a.m. and had at it. I particularly enjoyed looking down the road at the bare trees against the white-grey sky. I felt somewhat badass as well. Middle age ain’t for sissies, and neither is living through a central New York winter.

Steven worked from 9 a.m. to 1 p.m. When he returned home he heated us up some coffee for us, and I whined and cried about my painful shoulders. He said it was warm enough to be getting a little messy outside. Perhaps a walk was not the best idea. I couldn’t wimp out, though. It is supposed to get frigid again starting tomorrow. We must carpe diem, as the coffee cup says (I actually don’t have a coffee cup that says that).

Steven nicely agreed to accompany us. Tabby was beyond excited as he changed clothes and we got ready. We only took a two block jaunt, but it was very enjoyable. The most interesting aspect of it was the irregular patterns of cleared sidewalks. Fortunately, we stayed on quiet streets so could go out into the road in relative safety.

When we returned home my only chore before the relaxing part of the day was to make my blog post. So this is it. I didn’t spend too much time complaining, did I?

Another Scattered Saturday

I said last week that I thought Saturday Misadventures ought to become a feature, but on reflection, I think Scattered Saturday would be better. Two Saturdays ago I had a Scattered Saturday and I thought it made a pretty good blog post (although perhaps I flatter myself). At that time I was preparing for the busy, stressful week of Production Week for the play I am in at Ilion Little Theatre. At this time I am preparing for that play’s penultimate performance (love that word, penultimate). Next Saturday I will probably remain scattered merely because it is in my nature to do so.

Yesterday I said I planned to have a Mohawk Valley adventure without having a Mohawk Valley adventure planned. I woke up with morning with a plan. Yay me. Naturally I had coffee with my husband before implementing the plan.

The weather cooperated by being not too frigid, since the first part of my plan involved walking to the post office with my nice dog, Tabby. I had written my usual postcards. I love to write postcards. A light snow was falling, but the breeze was not bad. My thermometer said 23 degrees, which sounded about right. I could rock 23 degrees, I told myself. I could even run in 23 degrees, if I so chose. I thought with a play this evening a walk would be better. Tabby liked it, too.

Next I went to Heidelberg Bakery for breakfast (full blog post to follow). Then I went consignment store shopping (again, full blog posts to be written). I hit Cornerstone Consignments in Ilion, NY, and Gypsy’s Closet and Valley Exchange in Herkimer. Then I was tired, so I went home. Must recruit my energies, after all.

I guess Scattered Saturdays are actually Previews of Coming Attractions. With the play closing tomorrow afternoon, I may actually have time to write them. As always, I hope you’ll stay tuned.

Monday Misadventure

Hands up, whoever thought that with the play in production I would immediately return to making “real” posts? Heads down in shame, all of you who are pointing and laughing because you knew darn well I would not. I don’t mean you should feel ashamed because I am about to do a brilliant post about a Mohawk Valley adventure. I just don’t like it when people point and laugh.

I had thought to do a Middle-aged Musings Monday today, but a considerate co-worker brought me a copy of the new issue of Mohawk Valley Living, and I spent my lunch hour reading that instead of writing a blog post. I will instead type in a few words about the bad weather adventure I had after work today. By adventure, I’m afraid I mean misadventure.

The Mohawk Valley is having a winter storm, as is much of the northeast. It is cold and has been snowing like a sonofabitch all day (I love to say things are doing something like a sonofabitch). I suppose this made a bit of a change from the straight cold weather we have been having, but perhaps I am being too glass-half-full.

My misadventure began, as many of my misadventures do, with me thinking I am being clever. I left work and drove to my husband’s place of employment, to switch vehicles. This meant my SUV would be last in the driveway tomorrow morning, when I leave for work prior to 5 a.m. It further meant that Steven would have the 4-wheel drive for coming home after 6 p.m. After all, it was continuing to snow.

I could get the little old Stratus into the driveway. Just swing wide and power it through, right? Turns out, not so much. In my defense, I have not driven a vehicle this size since 1989, when I had a 10-year-old Pinto I fondly called Feather Car. Of course I got hung up at the end of the driveway. I felt I had a small blessing in that the car was completely out of the road at least. I turned it off, got out and grabbed a shovel.

I shoveled, tried to move the car, repeat. Things were not going well. I thought a good push would help. But there was only one of me. Then I saw my across the street neighbor shoveling his own driveway. He is a strapping young man, and a very nice one. I went over and asked his help. I wanted to ask him to drive the car while I pushed, because it is my car after all, but that seemed a little silly given our relative sizes.

He told me to back the car all the way out, which I did without getting hung up in the snowbank. Phew! He shoveled out where the car had been and told me to try it again. I felt really bad about this, because dammit, I am supposed to shovel my own driveway. Before I pulled the car back in I brushed off the windows again. I perhaps should have done that before I pulled back out of the driveway, but one does not always behave in the ideal fashion.

After my neighbor’s efforts with the shovel, I got the car in the driveway. I thanked him profusely. What a great neighbor! He asked me was I all set. I assured him that I was. I shoveled a bit more, including a short area in the back for Tabby’s business meetings.

Other areas have gotten more snow than I did. Other people have bigger driveways to shovel. Other bad weather travails outweigh mine. Other people do not have nice neighbors to help them. Well, I never said I was Job. I’m just telling you a little story about my day. I hope you’ll tune in tomorrow, which will be Tuesday but I hope not Tired Tuesday.

The Play is Definitely the Thing

For the next two weeks I expect to be obsessed. This is perhaps not a good thing for the blog, especially since I had a number of Mohawk Valley adventures in the last few days, which I would very much like to write about. However, I just returned from rehearsal and the play is on my mind (I bet you thought I was going to say, “The play’s the thing.” Well, I don’t have to indulge in every cliche, do I?).

We ran the whole show. It is not the first time we ran it; that was last Sunday. Did it go well? I think it did. I called for line a few times. I messed up a few times. Maybe several. I wasn’t counting. The funny thing is I have to have a cockney accent for my character. When we stopped running the play I kept talking in the accent. The director told me I have to slow down on one dramatic line. I tried a few times then said, “I’ll practice it at ‘ome!” Maybe you had to be there.

One kind of discouraging thing is when the director tells you to do something you were trying to do already. Damn! It didn’t work! I have to try harder. One thing I strive to do, though, is listen to direction. I have worked with actors who want to argue with everything. “I just don’t see the character that way,” they say, among other things. There is nobody like that in this cast. Phew!

I guess posts about rehearsal are not that exciting. Well, I don’t want to give away too much about the play, in case local readers want to come see it (and I hope they do). Perhaps I can manage a post or two about my recent Mohawk Valley adventures. We’ll see what tomorrow will bring.