I got off on the wrong foot

Credit to Larry for the pun.

Momma's table is still in the garage, but I did clear a space on the 'L' of my desk for my sewing machine and, taking a deep breath, I prepared to do battle again.

As I mentioned before, I decided to go back to basics, got a pieces of plain cotton fabric, actually a sheet we bought and didn't like - probably a topic for another blog entry - how fussy we are about our bed sheets. Anyway, plain cotton.  I cut out a square so I had no issue with excess fabric in my way, I applied my iron on stabilizer and selected some of the built in letters on the machine. As threading the machine is quite a chore, I decided to go with the green already there. Color is the least of my problems right now.

Looks a bit like Aljeen to me.

So, I fiddled around till I had spelt out Aideen on the little screen, carefully inserted the hoop according to instructions in the manual, and pressed GO and go it did. It did seem to be doing something intelligent, at least the hoop was moving and the needle was not pounding up and down in the same spot as it had previously. However, while the end result was the best yet, and it did closely resemble my name, it more resembled how my name would have sounded had the speaker been extremely inebriated.

Hmm.. maybe I was still being too ambitious.  How about just an 'A', nothing more. I prepared another cut from the unpopular sheet and again applied the stabilizer. Still with the dull green, I select a nice 'A'. Off we went. Nearly better, maybe a little better, still decidedly drunk looking.



I decided it was time to do something sensible and search for a class where I could speed up this process. While googling for classes specific to my particular sewing machine I came across a number of tutorials on YouTube, and one web site that I immediately bookmarked.  Kamala Embroidery - a blog - and there was a video of a Brother SE400, doing almost an identical 'A' - as I watched in fascination, I saw where I was going wrong.  I had the wrong presser foot, the step by step instructions in the manual failed to mention which presser foot to use, and I just sailed ahead with the one fitted to the machine when it came out of its box.

I am not new to sewing machines, so I knew better, I searched through the accessories that came with my machine and found the presser foot Kamala was using in her video. This I considered to be the high note to finish up today's lesson.  Next week I will put the correct foot forward and hopefully get better results.

Momma's table

Momma's table sits out in the garage where it has been since we moved into this house, we being me, my husband and his mother, Momma being my mother in law's mother - there is an amazing woman.

The table is an old, oval, wicker table painted white. Naturally, as it belonged to Momma, it is very old and while still in very good condition, it is showing some signs of age.

Due mainly to the fact that it is wicker (Larry does not like wicker), and partly to the fact that the house is already very full of furniture from the merging of two homes, Larry wanted to donate it to Goodwill. Absolutely NOT.  Momma's table would stay.

Unfortunately, it has stayed in the garage.

Now, you may wonder what is happening with my embroidery these days. Yes, it has been some time since I paid it any attention. Partly the holiday season took up all my time, but today I was going to get back to the battle with my sewing machine. If you remember, I had decided that I would give up working with t-shirt fabric and go for something a little more forgiving. I now have some simple cotton fabric to start working on. My intention is, once I establish how to actually get the machine to cooperate with me on some simple fabric and pattern, maybe I can progress to more difficult stuff.

So, this afternoon I turned to my sewing table, ok, it was once a friends kitchen table. I bought it when I moved into my first apartment and had just a small mattress and nothing else. Eventually I acquired furniture and when I moved into my first house, the table became my printer/all purpose table.  Now it is generally used for our postal scales and any computer Larry happens to be working on, until I got the sewing machine and decided that would be a good location for it. And it was a good location.

A couple of weeks ago Larry bought a new computer, naturally it was set up on 'the table' while he worked on it - as most people know, there is a lot to be done to a computer before it is ready to use. Apply about 50 patches to the Operating System, clean off a bunch of unnecessary stuff, install required software and drivers. Point of the story is, when I turned to the table to start working on my sewing machine, it became clear to me that I needed to find a better, more permanent location.


So, the first thing I thought of was Momma's table!  I have had my eye on it for a while, and this was the perfect use for it. I thought I would just need to wipe it clean and get it up the stairs, I know I can find a corner for it somewhere. Down I went to the garage and there it was - already in use! I don't think Momma would approve of this.  Luckily I have a small set of metal shelves that will easily replace Momma's table, and be much better suited to the garage.

Tomorrow I will enroll Larry's assistance and we will swap out the shelves for the wicker table.  I will find a corner upstairs for it, clean it off and I will be ready to get back to the battle of the embroidery machine.

I am ready for it to be summer

I know, 105 degrees F, what is wrong with that?  I will tell you what is wrong with it, AC - Air Conditioning. As it gets hotter in Texas, Texans turn 'up' the AC and indoors it gets colder. Who would have thought that there are human species that actually like to be cold - hello? Texans!

We (here in Texas) have had a particularly unpleasant winter. So far, and I do not want to tempt fate, we have not had one of those most amazing ice storms, but it has been cold and unpleasant for longer periods than I have become used to here. I am (finally) Texan enough to actually celebrate the rain, but cold, ice, snow - NO. I can't take that. It isn't just because it is so unpleasant, which it is. But Texans don't know how to drive in the rain, sleet, ice or snow. They all seem to operate on the premise that if they pretend it is not there, then it is not there. It is downright scary driving on even just wet roads with Texans, actually, it is scary driving on dry roads with most of them. But, wet or, heaven forbid, icy roads, count me out.  I learned how to drive on ice as soon as I started learning to drive in Ireland, apparently that lesson is skipped here in Texas. (Possibly because the pretend it is not there?)

So, as the forecast predicts below freezing (about to happen) with wind, sleet (already falling in Leander) and possibly snow - plus ice on overpasses in the early morning, I think.. I have got to NOT leave the house tomorrow.

Thankfully I have a job that I can do from home, in fact, mostly I can be more efficient and put in longer hours with less stress when I work from home.

Right now at 5.25 p.m. as the front approaches, our cars are already covered in ice, and it is falling steadily, that is correct, not hail, sleet that is really icy rain. I wouldn't be surprised to find that it is 65 degress F when I am ready to leave at 3.30 a.m. tomorrow morning, but I also would not be surprised to find it is 25 and covered in ice, or snow. But I do know that by the weekend it will probably be 70 again.  What a weird place.. but I love it! Next June I will be here 20 years. There is a reason I came here, and many reasons I stay. If you read my book, you would know what I am talking about.

My first royalty payment

I got my very first royalty payment today for my book.  Only because I don't expect anyone to buy it (yes, I need to change that attitude before the next book is published) I am so excited.

Considering my niece Nicola, and my nephew Jamie were both very active in pushing this book to publication (Nic) and touting it on FB (Jamie) it is fitting that my first royalty payment is in GBP .. except the P doesn't stand for POUND(s) .. it stands for PENCE.  Yes, the grand total of 26 GBPence.  Nonetheless, it is a very historic occasion for me.  I do have some EURO and some DOLLAR royalities outstanding for payment, but this is the first!

Payment made to:	AIDEEN WALSH..
Payment date:	30-JAN-2014
Payment currency:	GBP
Payment amount:	0.26

26 whole pennies.  And, bear in mind, with the current rate of exchange that does come close to 50 cents US.

I guess I will have to start marketing this book soon, or maybe just get on with writing another one?

 It is on Amazon.com Come and get it here:.

What will your legacy be?

I had to write my mission statement as part of an exercise for a Franklin Covey Seminar - 7 Habits I believe it was.  That was a long time ago! So, naturally I don't remember exactly word for word what I wrote. But I do remember the meaning because it was real, and still is.

'To live life with honesty and courage, to never hurt anyone intentionally, so that when I am gone, my children will not mourn my passing but will celebrate my life'... something like that.

Above all else, I do not want to be mourned. I do not want to cause pain to any human being, most of all, not to those I love. I want them to have a party to celebrate the amazing life that I have been fortunate enough to have. To wonder at the myriad opportunities that have come my way and I have been lucky enough to be able to grasp and enjoy.

I do realize that this sound horribly maudlin and for that I do apologize, but when someone you work with, someone you are used to seeing and interacting with on a daily basis leaves this life way too soon, it makes you stop and think. And, of course, when my father in law died after 2 years in a home for the bewildered, with the inevitable in front of us, we did stop and do more than think, we prepared.

We have our wills drawn, our legal, financial and medical power of attorney, and living wills all in place. Next week we will be signing up and paying in advance for our cremations. How difficult it is to get that done without all the extras!  Graves, graveside carry on, flowers - just not my style. I am not religious though I am spiritual, and I have the utmost respect for the religious beliefs of others, with the one caveat - please do not wave it in my face, or try to force it down my gullet.

I have a book called 'Before It's Too Late'.  And before it is too late, I plan to complete it.  This book details every piece of information about what we own, what we have prepared, what we want, where everything is.

If I had my way, my ashes would be strewn across the floor of the The Alamo.  But as that is more than likely totally impossible - if it were, we would soon be knee deep in ashes - and at the end of the day, or as it will be, life, it really doesn't matter. To quote my father when he was facing his imminent death 'what do I care?  I will be dead'.  I would have no issue with my body being thrown into the woods - you know? where they do research on how long it takes a body to decompose etc; After all, it would be something useful. I would like to think that my organs could all be reused, but I am guessing they are already too old to be of any use.

My father in law was cremated, but he did have a grave and a graveside ceremony, with a few beautiful songs that my mother in law selected for him. And a reading of a poem that he had selected  himself many years before as something that should be read at his funeral. It was the classic graveside poem written by Mary Elizabeth Frye, Do not stand at my grave and weep:

Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there; I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am the diamond glints on snow,
I am the sun on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning’s hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circling flight.
I am the soft star-shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there; I did not die.

One of the songs Mildred chose was Brad Paisley & Dolly Parton singing 'When I Get Where I'm Going' and another was 'The Dance' by Garth Brooks.  Both of these songs work for me too - of course I do share a love of country music with both Odell and Mildred.

So, at my life's celebration party, by all means play both of Mildred's choices. But I want the first and last song to be played to be 'Just Breathe' by Willie and Lukas Nelson.  On YouTube here

I wrote a book.. by accident

I didn't set out to write a book.   It is on Amazon.com here.

When I was a child, during a period in my life when my parents had a very tumultuous relationship, every time there was a major 'incident' - to an 8 - 10 year old introverted child, that was equivalent to WWII.  I immediately sat down and wrote a blow-by-blow account of the entire event.  I did it because I was so stressed I felt that I would explode if I didn't find some sort of escape valve, and writing it down was exactly that.

How I wish I had those written records now.  I know that my mother saved them in a folder - probably marked 'Dick'  not just because he was one, but that was his name.

She probably hoped that one day they would prove some sort of safeguard to her sanity, but that was back in the days when broken marriages were blamed entirely on the female of the species, and my written accounts may well still be sitting in a folder in some archive.  But to me they were cathartic.  Ok, I admit it, I have a fascination with words:

tumultuous (tjuːˈmʌltjʊəs)

adj

1. uproarious, riotous, or turbulent: a tumultuous welcome.

2. greatly agitated, confused, or disturbed: a tumultuous dream.

3. making a loud or unruly disturbance: tumultuous insurgents.

tuˈmultuously adv tuˈmultuousness n

cathartic (kəˈθɑːtɪk)

adj

1. purgative

2. (Medicine) effecting catharsis

n

3. (Medicine) a purgative drug or agent

Anyway, I only just realized that this was a habit that I had long ago formed.  Because when I came to the US I abandoned my therapy, and my most amazing therapist Dick.. strange that, same name as my father, and even more strange, a name I always loved.  Anyway, I digress - when I got here (Texas) I started writing as a way to purge (catharticise?) my past and release myself from the shackles of my past.

shackles (ˈʃӕklz) noun plural

a pair of iron rings joined by a chain that are put on a prisoner's wrists, ankles etc, to limit movement. His captors put shackles on him.

ˈshackle verb

to put shackles on.

and the more I wrote, the better I felt.  Eventually I had about 50,000 words, in a series of disjointed essays. Every time I revisited them I reread and enjoyed them as though I had never read them before, let alone written them.  But the words were very important to me, so I tested them on a few people and the reaction I got was favorable, however, naturally enough these were people who knew me well and also knew the situations I wrote about.

I wanted to get reactions from people who didn't know me, or at least, not so well. My son read some of it and was (he said) enthralled - and I do believe him, because I taught him to be honest. But he was one of the 'knew me well' group. My mother in law - a very blunt and honest woman, read it and said I should publish it. So I put my disjointed written purgative in a blog. I got more feed back, my niece Nicola, we haven't met or spoken in decades, read it and took the time to privately email me with very gratifying feedback. My cousin Pat, who has a starring role in one of the chapters, actually bought the book and emailed me that she was reading and enjoying it.

Finally my husband, who I am fairly sure never read any of what I wrote, but who supports me in everything I do, convinced me to publish it - and now that Amazon has createspace.com where anyone can publish anything, I bit the bullet. I tried to make it more of a journal than disjointed events, and I really don't think I succeeded, but I hope it worked.

Once published, I purchased 10 copies of my book and gave copies of it as gifts to my children, my mother in law, and to my closest friends.

I cannot describe how I felt when one of my good friends told me how she has become totally enthralled while reading my book.  She said that she was immediately 'drawn into the story' and that everything she read 'drew pictures in her mind' so that she could see what I was writing about.

If I never write another word (which I seriously doubt) that response is something I will treasure forever. Now, I need to write a real book, and I need to figure out how to market my writing.

Multitasking

I have always heard it said that women are better at multitasking than men. And I certainly remember when my children were babies and toddlers, constantly having to juggle two or more things at the same time. Holding the baby with bottle balanced in his mouth, in one arm, while talking on the phone tucked under my chin and stirring the pot of stew on the stove. It wasn't that I was good at it, I had to do it. Ok, I didn't have to do it, I could have left the baby screaming in his crib, the phone ringing off the hook and the stew burning on the stove, while I sat and filed my nails. I could have, but I didn't because my nerves would not have been able to stand it.

Perhaps that is the difference. Men are better at ignoring, or blocking out what they don't want to pay attention to. Women are not so good at that. At least, I am not.

For years now, I have worked in an environment that requires me to juggle at best, two separate projects, today I was working on three simultaneously. According to my best friend Google:

si·mul·ta·ne·ous·ly
adverb
at the same time.

Of course I wasn't doing that, but what I was doing was switching frequently from one to the other, and it was exhausting. I had to keep reminding myself which environment / issue I was dealing with, where I was at in the testing and what my next step should be. I always thought I was good at multitasking, and that it was a gift. So I did some research and decided I am not doing that any more. No wonder I am shattered at the end of the day.  

Here is some of what I turned up in just a few minutes of searching (what did we do before the internet?)

Links to research reports:

Stanford University

Ohio State Univeristy

PsychCentral reports on the University of Utah research study

To summarize:

• For students, an increase in multitasking predicted poorer academic results.
• Multitaskers took longer to complete tasks and produced more errors.
• People had more difficulty retaining new information while multitasking.
• When tasks involved making selections or producing actions, even very simple tasks performed concurrently were impaired.
• Multitaskers lost a significant amount of time switching back and forth between tasks, reducing  their productivity up to 40%.
• Habitual multitaskers were less effective than non-multitaskers even when doing one task at any given time because their ability to focus was impaired.

And finally - I believe - multitaskers are far more stressed at the end of the day!

Will I ever speak Kentucky?

You would think that after almost 20 years in the US I would have figured out accents - but not only am still struggling with the language barrier I have not got the hang of some of the accents. Yes, there is a language barrier .. see my previous post.

When I was a child, there was an 'American Accent' and it might have been from the deep south up to Northern Canada - all of the continent of North America, to my ears was an 'American Accent'.  It really did all sound the same to me.

Since moving here in 1994, I very slowly started to hear the regional differences in accent, at the same time as realizing to my horror that I didn't speak the same language, at least not the same language as the 'English' spoken in Central Texas.

One of my earlier examples was 12 years ago, towards the end of October. I was sitting at my desk trying to look busy, when the director of development, a man from East Texas who I knew fairly well, having worked with him at a previous company, came out of his office and ask me if I knew where to get 'dry ass'.  I was speechless. Many thoughts crossed my mind.  Why did he think I would know where to dry his ass? Why ask me? Why was his ass wet? And most important, what the hell do I answer? Luckily he expanded. Apparently his wife was looking for dry ice to complete a hallow 'een costume.  Phew!  Thank goodness I said nothing.

Well, that was 12 years ago, I had only been here 7 years.. 7 years? surely I would have learned the language in that time.  Apparently 19 years later I still have a problem.  I wonder if it is something to do with the fact that I am tone deaf?  I have heard that the more musically inclined you are, the easier language is for you.  And I know I am NOT musically inclined.  Oh, I love music, but I couldn't sing to save my life.

I have known my mother in law for over 12 years, and we have lived in the same house for the last 3 years. Surely I should be well able to interpret her Kentucky English and understand her without a problem.  NO. I can't.  We were discussing the very cold winter and she said that she feared the intense cold would have killed the wall flowers.  While I was puzzling over what wall flowers, and I couldn't recall every having seen a wall flower in Texas, certainly not in our yard, my husband was telling her (he has a Texas accent which I am getting much better at interpreting) that wild flowers need a freeze.

Texas Wild Flowers

Wall Flowers

Another occasion illustrates my total lack of expertize in Kentucky'ism.  We had a crew of stone masons working on a stone patio and paths in our back yard.  It was the middle of the summer - and in case you don't know, the middle of the summer in Central Texas means over 100 degrees F.  My mother in law was gazing out the window, watching the men working I thought.  She very casually asked me if I had a glass of water.  I thought 'oh goodness, one of the men has collapsed from the heat'.  But then I thought, no, she is a very cool, sensible woman, but even she would have a sense of urgency in her voice in that instance.  So I said 'a glass of water?' .. somewhat impatiently she said 'yes, a glass of water!  there is a fly here I want to kill it!'.  I believe she thought I was at least a bit slow, possibly an imbecile. 'OH!  I said, a fly swatter! No, unfortunately we lost it in the move' and I found her an old magazine to use.

Fly Swatter

Glass of Water

What is this about?

When I was planning my move to the US, I had the luxury of having no preconceived ideas about location.  I had never been here before and knew no one living here.  If you read my book (see link on the right) you will know that I chose Texas based on a number of criteria, one of which was the weather.  

I was so tired of cold, wet, grey days almost all year 'round that I wanted to live somewhere hot and hotter, dry and sunny. My research led me to believe I would find what I wanted in Texas. Yes, I knew there would be some cool days, even a few cold days in mid winter, but I also knew that these would be few and far between. The first few years after I arrived I was very happy to discover this expectation was (mostly) satisfied.  There was one four-day ice storm the second winter I was in Austin. But it was such a rare and unexpected event that the entire city closed down for those 4 days.

But this winter has been awful, yes we need the rain and I have finally become Texan enough that I am always now happy to see it, of course it doesn't happen very often and not nearly often enough for the well being of the State. However, look at this! 

No, I am not returning to Ireland any time soon, well not for more than my usual visit to see family. But this weather is not what I bargained for, except of course, no bargaining was involved, just guesswork and luck.

We have a saying in Texas, 'if you don't like the weather just wait because it will change' - whoever says that clearly never visited Ireland where we do have the same saying, but it is fact. In Texas we are pretty much guaranteed to have ~HOT~ weather from June through September, day after day, with perhaps (if we are lucky) an occasional shower of rain, the rain is hot by Irish standards also.

In Ireland we can have rain, fog, sun, cold, warm, deluge, clouds, wind, sun, cold, hot, dry - and that all in the space of a few hours. Dublin is on the east coast, we are surrounded, at least to the south and southwest by what we fondly refer to as mountains, they are in fact beautiful rolling hills.


We have a saying 'if you can see the mountains it is going to rain, if you can't see them it is raining'. What makes the difference to me is that home heating in the US is much cheaper and more efficient, than in Ireland.  Almost no one in Ireland can afford to run their heating 24 hours, even on a thermostat, in fact the same goes for hot water.  The cost would be prohibitive.

Now, we have to take into account global warming. Why is it that normal, presumably reasonably intelligent human beings can't grasp what is happening to our climate, to our planet - what mankind is doing to our planet, and what we are sowing, that our children and grandchildren will have to reap and live and/ or die with? Otherwise intelligent people think that global warming is disproved because it has suddenly got extremly cold (not warm) throughout the United States, or because we have a major hurricane event, or no hurricane events at all in one season. In fact you don't have to be terribly smart to understand that if the earth - the globe- is warming, the first thing to happen is melting of the icecap - hey presto otherwise warm waters become seriously chilled by the melting ice.  And I know I learned in school that the oceans have a major influence on our weather.

Ireland is very far north, Dublin City is at a latitude of just over 53 degrees North, but the climate is relatively mild compared to other countries on the same latitude due to the warm Gulf Stream flowing down the Atlantic Coast to the West, and an abundance of hills and mountains around the coastline, affording shelter to the island.  With the melting of the polar icecap I fear that this will change, as the melting of that ice cap allows massive amounts of fresh water to flow into the ocean, at best changing the flow of the currents in the Atlantic and thereby redirecting the Gulf Stream. Some believe the melting icecap will actually cool the warm Gulf Steam sufficiently to eliminate its protective cloak around our tiny island, sending mean temperatures plummeting.

Mankind appears to be determined to destroy the earth, apparently the only motivation for this is pure greed. How illogical is that? Let's make lots of money and ignore the damage we are doing, but the day will come when no amount of money is going to solve the problems caused by this greed, nor will it protect anyone, rich or poor, against the effects of global warming.

A Penny Saved

.. is a penny earned. I used to hear that a lot when I was growing up.

My husband's father took this to a whole new level. I doubt he ever paid the display price for anything, including medical bills which he managed to negotiate down by more than half the original charge. My husband is no different having learned from the master.

I have watched and waited while he haggled over furniture, appliances, cars, phones, travel, hotel and many other expenses most people would just pay for without thinking.

This time, I think he surpassed his father's record.

My father in law passed away after spending two years in an Alzheimer's home. In the years prior to going into the home he consistently refused to discuss anything to do with death. He wouldn't tell us his preferences, totally refused to consider prearranging anything and always repeated that someone else could take care of it when he was dead. My very sensible mother in law didn't wait that long. As soon as it became obvious that he could no longer make any decisions, and it was also apparent that his days were numbered, she arranged the details not just for him, but for herself. She paid for cremation and made all the arrangements possible prior to death that she could. She also bought a plot in the local cemetery and I found it amusing that she selected plot number 211, because she would have no problem remembering it as her birthday was 02/11.

When my father in law passed away, we discovered the true value of her foresight in making prior arrangements. In our case, his death was no surprise and yet the stress and grief was still hard to deal with. I can't imagine having to make all those arrangement in a case where someone dies unexpectedly. Therefore, my husband and I were determined that we would do the same and save our children - and of course very likely, one or other of us - from as much of the awful machinery of death as we possibly could.

We procrastinated until finally the new year came along and the usual spring cleaning attitude drove us to get this item off our 'to do' list. The previously locally owned funeral home, where my mother in law had made her reservations, had since been sold to a large national chain and some searches online showed that they were among the more expensive choices in Central Texas so my husband called around. He found one place which seemed to be very reasonable and did offer insurance. That is, insurance that should they be bought or go out of business, our disposal would still be handled and our children wouldn't have to deal with the arrangements all over again. Armed with that quote, he then called the local funeral home and told them the price he had received and found acceptable, and said that he would be prepared to consider any offer they could make that might be close to this price and had comparable cover. To my amazement they said that they would certainly be able to do something for us and we made an appointment to talk with them in person.

When we arrived at the funeral home we were not impressed by the man who met with us. I really didn't like him at all, sleazy is the word that comes to mind. He told us that their price would be $2,800 per person, but as were were return business (that is the previous owner of that company had handled the arrangements for my father in law's cremation) - you can't really have return business for a cremation as that really is just a one time event in each life, right? - he would give us $1,000 off. That made his price almost twice the price of the offer we already had. We said ' no thanks, not good enough ' and he immediately said he also worked for the insurance company and could actually write the insurance policy for $995 and it would be good for the funeral home we had already spoken with. It took approximately 5 minutes, most of that was spent deflecting him from his normal sales pitch, we didn't want any words of comfort from him, or anyone else for our loved ones, we didn't want a service of any description.  My husband told him we were not interested, we would go with his competitior because he didn't have the decency to give us the lowest price up front.

Had my father in law known that he could haggle over the cost of his final arrangements, and get a good deal, I do believe he would not have been so reticent to discuss these details with us.

Food Sealer Clips

I doubt there is a kitchen in the western world that doesn't have more than one clip to reseal bags such as chips or cereal, in order to keep them from going stale before they are consumed.

We have a number of clips designed specifically, and while they are not terribly expensive, they do cost money. I have also used clothes pins and bulldog clips designed for holding bundles of paper together.
 

But here is something my husband came up with that works like a charm and costs absolutely nothing. I am sure most people refuse to take the free plastic hangers that come with clothes bought in most of the major stores, but next time you buy a skirt on a hanger like this, ask to keep the hanger and cut the clips off, the remains is recyclable and the clips are great for resealing bags.

Don't put that in your mouth

...you never know where it has been.  I am sure that it was not just my mother who repeated these words frequently.  If it were coins we had in our mouth, which was often the case, she added 'some dirty old man might have had that'.  Why we put coins in our mouth in the first place slips my mind right now, but the vision our mother's words conjured up ensured that we spat them out in disgust.

It wasn't until years later, when reminiscing about our mother, my sister and I discussed our separate visions of that filthy old man with our pennies. Combining a dirty old man and you don't know where he put it in my mind conjured up a picture of the old homeless man we frequently passed on our way to school, ragged filthy clothes, old rope tied around his waist to keep his coat closed against the weather, face blacked by dirt and wood smoke, sticking pennies up his nose. Apparently back in those days, my spacial awareness had not developed to the still somewhat inadequate level it has now reached.

You see, an Irish penny, when I was a child, measured 1.215 inches in diameter. It would have been a feat worthy of notation in the Guinness Book of World Records if anyone could get something that size up their nose, and the question as to why a homeless old man would want to, never crossed my mind.

My sister, on the other hand, considered a much more private, and even more unpleasant, orifice into which the same homeless old man inserted the pennies she was very careful to no longer put in her mouth.  While he possibly could have had more success inserting pennies in her suggested location, again the question of why never crossed her mind.

Needless to say, whereever my mother thought he was putting the pennies didn't matter, and we never thought to ask her, but her dire warning worked, we never did put coins of any denomination into our mouth, and to this day I tend to carefully wash my hands after handling coins.

The 'new' Irish penny (post decimalization) would be much more suitable as it is considerably smaller than the old one and I suppose rolled up notes would be much more easily inserted into most orifices.

The Kickapoo Casino, Eagle Pass, Texas

Gambling is not legal in Texas and in many parts of Texas you cannot buy alcohol either but you can buy guns and ammunition and, under certain circumstances you can legally use those guns to kill another human being. Governor Rick Perry signed a number of bills ensuring that one Texan may lawfully kill another - The Castle Doctrine, Stand Your Ground, Civil Immunity and Peaceable Journey, described in this wiki.

Texans who live in 'dry' counties still drink, they just have to drive further to buy it, or join a 'club' for a few dollars a year and they can purchase a drink in select places by displaying their membership card. Just outside Tyler TX, a dry city, as you leave the city limits there are at least 5 liquor stores in a cluster.

It is difficult to get around the gambling ban, so many Texans drive into Louisiana or Oklahoma where there are dozens of casinos, pouring Texas dollars into the economy of these states and out of the Texas economy. According to this wiki the only forms of gambling allowed are: Texas Lottery, parimutuel wagering on horse and greyhound racing; charitable bingo, pull-tabs, and raffles and one Indian casino.

Our first experience of gambling in Texas was a casino cruise which was gambling 7 miles out in the gulf, and we only did that once.  The waiting around to board, the 7 mile cruise before the gambling could commence, and the same 7 mile cruise back without any entertainment, and the long wait to disembark really did remove any value from the few hours of gambling time.

Our next attempt at keeping our gambling funds in Texas was a little better, but I don't think it was enough to encourage us to stop heading out of state to casinos with more oversight, and better amenities.

Kickapoo Lucky Eagle Casino

Yet another wiki describes: " The Indian Gaming Regulatory Act is a 1988 United States federal law that establishes the jurisdictional framework that governs Indian gaming. There was no federal gaming structure before this act. The stated purposes of the act include providing a legislative basis for the operation/regulation of Indian gaming, protecting gaming as a means of generating revenue for the tribes, encouraging economic development of these tribes, and protecting the enterprises from negative influences (such as organized crime). The law established the National Indian Gaming Commission and gave it a regulatory mandate."

According to an article on the Texas State Historical Association website:

..."The Kickapoos did not legally hold title to land in Texas until 1985, but because they have traditionally camped near the international bridge between Piedras Negras, Coahuila, and Eagle Pass, Texas, they have long been identified with this state. On January 8, 1983, Public Law 97–429 resolved the Kickapoos' ambiguous land situation. Under this statute they were officially granted lands near El Indio, Texas, and became identified to United States authorities as the Texas Band of the Oklahoma Kickapoos, thereby becoming eligible for federal aid. Nevertheless, the people still call themselves the Mexican Kickapoos, as they are called in Mexico, their primary place of residence. Today the Mexican Kickapoos are distinguished by their retention of their traditional culture. From religion to home construction to language and education, the coherent Kickapoo way of life has survived, even if somewhat modified by a veneer of western civilization. The group, which numbers between 625 and 650, spends the major portion of the year in El Nacimiento-about 130 miles southwest of Eagle Pass, Texas-but still lives a seminomadic life that has been adapted to modern economic conditions. In middle to late May most of the residents of Nacimiento divide into family-based bands and set out across Texas and other western states to work as migrant agricultural laborers. By late October or early November the bands make their way back to Nacimiento, where they pass the winter hunting, planting crops, raising cattle, and participating in religious ceremonies. Though some earn money by selling agricultural products and crafts, most depend upon federal and Texas welfare programs to supplement their meager income."...

The hotel at the Kickapoo Reservation had only been opened a few months when we visited.  Everything was still in good condition, so the small, almost utilitarian bathrooms were acceptable.  The bedrooms were clean and adequate also and the food was good, not great, good.

The casino was enormous and all on one level.  It has 150,000 square foot of gaming space featuring 1,900 gaming machines and 22 table and poker games.  There are 3 restaurants two bars, a bingo hall and a live entertainment area.

Probably our biggest issue, after the obvious lack of oversight, (obvious not because we didn't win even small amounts, but we saw no winners in the two days we were there, and that is unusual), was the lack of complementary alcohol while gambling, hard to understand as I suspect that they would make more money from 'merry' gamblers than from those totally sober.  A complaint I had was the complete lack of a decent cup of coffee, but that is a problem I have learned to live with in Texas.

We support the lobby to legalize gambling in Texas, along with about 80% of Texans, what can be wrong with creating more jobs and keeping Texans spending their gambling, eating, drinking and entertainment dollars in Texas?

Unexpected dangers in an early morning workout

We are lucky enough to have a well equipped exercise facility on the ground floor of our office building. My office is on the 3rd floor and we have free, secure access to this facility 24 hours. A shower room, naturally, is essential where there is an exercise room.

It may sound like I am complaining, and really I tremendously appreciate having these facilities, I just wish they were not so fraught with danger, the discomfort I can tolerate but the danger is intolerable.

recumbent bike and no ceiling fans

As I said, the exercise room is really well equipped, and fairly spacious. We have almost a full set of weight machines, there are just a few missing that would be nice to have. We have two Treadmills, a StairMaster, an Elliptic, two Stationary Bicycles, though both have their drawbacks. One is an recumbent bike and I am not sure if it is because my legs are so short, or because the bike is badly designed, for whatever reason in order to comfortably reach the pedals I find that my knees keep hitting the panel. The second bike is upright but the saddle is huge - almost like a tractor seat, and really uncomfortable and the front wheel (yes, it has a front wheel) appears to have an alter ego as a fan, so the faster you pedal the stronger the wind blowing into your face. I really hate wind in my face, in fact I don't like air movement coming at me from any direction. This brings me to another issue I have.

replacement fan

There used to be two ceiling fans, these gave just enough circulation to keep the room cool without causing an uncomfortable wind, and even on full speed, it was possible to keep out of the direct line of fire. I guess that was why they took them down - though I really suspect it was in order to save money. Does a big, almost industrial, floor fan use less electricity? I don't know, but I do know I can't workout if that fan is blowing - I am no lightweight but it almost blows me off the treadmill, plus it makes a noise like a small aircraft about to take off, making the TV about useless even at its highest volume.

All of the foregoing are just minor inconveniences, and worth suffering to save a gym membership, plus - the most value to me - it is open to me any time I care to be there. The dangers lurk in the shower room, and to a lesser extent, in the corridor outside the exercise room.

There are two showers, one is the requisite handicap friendly - that is it has an adjustable height shower head and bars all around to hang on to if you are capable of standing. While not a danger, definitely an unforgivable waste of water, it takes 5 minutes (yes, I timed it) for the water to heat up first thing in the morning. How much water goes down the drain in 5 minutes I wonder? Surely a tankless water heater would be cheaper on electricity and would definitely help save a commodity very scarce here in Central Texas?

Back to the shower, once you leave the shower, presumably at the very least a little wet, you have to navigate the tiled floor which takes on the behavior of polished ice once it is wet. At the best of times I am worried about crossing that floor barefoot, and when I started back working out after my foot surgery I was terrified.  I tried wearing flip flops but they were not much better when wet and how do you wash your feet? I now put the spare rubber mats across the floor and bring extra towels to walk on. I have nightmares about losing my footing and hitting the tiled floor hard at 4.30 a.m. in the morning. I am guessing I would probably have to lie there, wet and naked for the best part of 3 hours before anyone came close enough to hear me, assuming I was in any state to make a noise, and then they would need to have a security card programmed to open the ladies' shower room door.

There is a wooden bench along the wall opposite the two shower stalls, with hooks on the wall above and an electric socket behind the bench. Luckily it is well away from the running water because it has been in bits, falling off the wall for almost 5 years now, and I have seen people use it for hair dryers.

badly lit, undulating corridor

The final danger element, that I am aware of, is, as I mentioned, the corridor. Most people who use the exercise room also choose the stairs over the elevator, the corridor from the exercise room to the stairwell is long and not very well lit, therefore it is not possible to see the undulating nature of the surface as result of major work required to the foundation of the building about 5 years ago. Apparently when they were replacing the concrete floor they didn't have a spirit level, or even a piece of string. In fact, the floor looks undulating due to the bad lighting, but the shadows are deceiving and the dips and waves are not where you would expect.

Shortly after the work was completed, I was heading to the stairs after my workout when I stubbed my toe on one of the 'waves'. I suppose  tired muscles and heavy gym bag combined to ensure that I completely lost my balance and in attempting to avoid a fall, I twisted my knee badly. I was limping for weeks and my knee has never fully recovered from that injury, despite physical therapy.

I continue to use our wonderful benefit, but I also continue to be extremely careful in the shower room, and walking to the stairwell.

Thank you Bruce Morrison

I often wonder how other people create budgets, keep track of household accounts and generally manage their income and expenses.

A long time ago, after my first marriage broke down (why do we say 'broke up' when it is really a break down?).  We sold the home we had lived in for most of our three children's lives, there wasn't much equity to share, just enough for me to buy a car, pay off my share of debt and pay a deposit on a rental. After that we, my three teenagers and myself, lived in a couple of rentals, with a few months in between where we were homeless. Thankfully not on the street, I slept on my mother's couch in her tiny one bedroom apartment and each of my children stayed with family or friends. They were tough times and my income just didn't meet our basic expenses. I couldn't face the reality of my financial situation and very quickly had a large plastic bag filled with unopened bank statements, bills and, I am sure, final demands for payment. I couldn't pay any of them and my bank account was overdrawn, I had no solution and so didn't open them. My theory was 'why get even more stressed when there was nothing I can do about it?'  I was, of course, well aware that the problems would not go away and that ignoring them was irresponsible at best.

I don't know what would have happened if I had not won a green card in the lottery - what was known as a Morrison Visa - (incidentally, did you know that a green card is actually pink?)  My eternal thanks go to Bruce Morrison, the author of the immigration Act of 1990 that allowed me to apply for this visa and to the Universe / fate / luck - whatever you call it, for allowing me to win that visa. See more about Bruce Morrison here.

Luckily, when I won the visa, my children were no longer children and so I was able to follow the route so many of my ancestors took when times were rough. When I left Ireland I knew that this was probably my one and only opportunity to correct my mistakes and create a new life. I also knew that the streets of America were not paved with gold, but I was fairly sure that I could make a new life for myself. I was determined it would be a successful one, to spend only what I could afford, open every envelope delivered to my address (assuming of course it was addressed to me) and keep careful track of every penny coming in and going out, including keeping all receipts and bills carefully.

And I did.  I started out keeping a note of my spending and income in a small notepad but as soon as I bought myself a computer and discovered it came with a free version of Quicken Light, I used that and have been using Quicken ever since, over 18 years later.  However, having once been totally irresponsible I did a complete 360 and became totally anal.  I spent hours each weekend carefully documenting my spending, checking each receipt against my records, filing every piece of paper relating to income and spending.  Very soon I had boxes of receipts everywhere, each box marked with the date range.  Each box never accessed again but gathering dust and taking up space in my small home.  When I moved these boxes came with me.

On the plus side, I knew to the penny what my financial situation was, and what I could and could not afford.

I met my husband in 2001, five years, almost to the day, after I arrived in the US.  He convinced me that I really didn't need to keep 5 years of receipts that were not tax related - the receipts I saved included grocery, gas and other items long since consumed and reconciled in my accounts.

So, now I keep receipts through the week, once I reconcile my accounts I dispose of them with the exception of receipts for goods which may or may not need to be returned in the foreseeable future. I keep only 3 months of paid bills, and I might add, all bills are opened and paid on time now.

Thankfully technology allows me not only to keep track of, and reconcile, my household expenses, but also to keep a very close eye on my bank accounts online. The reward is that I can now not fear the mailman and I can sleep at night.

Child friendly / child safe

It is surprisingly difficult to make your home child proof, and by that I do mean both safe and friendly. I don't claim to be any expert, so don't mistake this article as instructional. It is, like all my other writing, random thoughts and personal musings.

When I first encountered the principle of making a home child proof, it was because I had a child for the first time. Fortunately, at least from the point of view of keeping him safe in the home, I had very little else. But even so, most of what childproofing was done, was 'after the fact'. Trial and error. I hasten to add, I am not stupid, but I was very young, and I had no previous experience, hence 'first child'.

Naturally I already had medicines out of reach, because that is what you do with medicine with or without children. As I said, I didn't have much.  We lived in a 'bed-sit', more grandly referred to as a studio apartment. One big room in an old Georgian house, built when rooms were very big. We had a tiny separate kitchen and shared a bathroom, shared with the rest of the house so not mine to proof, but also well out of his immediate domain. As soon as he started to show signs of becoming mobile, which was fairly early, what little I had was moved out of reach. Sharp corners were covered, or removed, after the first bruise and, I am ashamed to say, the electric fire was screened after the first blistered tiny finger. To this day I feel guilty about that.

When my daughter and her baby son, my first grandchild, came to visit me I had just moved into my first house in Texas. Everything was new and there wasn't much of anything. Before they arrived I spent some time putting childproof locks on the lower cabinets and that was really all I had to do. I did not have a fireplace and there were no sharp edges.The locks I used screwed into the inside of the cabinet door, like this one, they were still on the cabinets when I moved 12 years later and served to keep many other small visitors safe.

This year, that same first child of the burnt finger is coming to visit me for Christmas along with his wife and their son, almost four years old. Our household now is well established and we three old people have been living in this house for 3 years surrounded by a merger of two well established households, and with a fireplace along with many other potential dangers.

We have started childproofing and as I write this I begin to realize all the things we have not yet considered. For instance, we have a cover on the pantry door knob and even I find that quite difficult to manipulate as I have some permanent damage to my hands from carpal tunnel syndrome which I suffered from before it became fashionable, and therefore didn't have treated until it was too late.

I was about to explain to you that the beautiful doll hanging from the door knob is not some witches curse or satanic ritual, but a clever storage unit for plastic bags (we don't have many as we do use green bags, and those we do have, we reuse), plastic bags!  oh goodness, that little doll will need to hang on the inside of the door, in fact she needs to hang up much higher inside the pantry, just in case my grandson can manipulate the door knob cover.

We also put a cover on the knob of the laundry room door, inside is just a washer and dryer and a storage closet. I did move all possible dangerous substances to higher shelves in the closet there, but we decided to be extra safe. Here is a photo and a warning to us all to remember to actually close the door fully. No amount of childproof locks will work if the door is left open, even just a little. Maybe it isn't obvious from the photo here, but the door is not fully closed and tiny fingers would have no difficultly getting a grip and opening it. As I said, inside there is probably nothing that could do him any harm, but he is way to precious to take that risk, as are all children.

Next we studied our kitchen and bathrooms, where most of the dangers lurk in any home, medicine cabinets are all well out of reach, check. I emptied the cabinet under the sink in the main bathroom. It was well overdue a clean out and for the moment what I think I need to keep is stored out of reach in a box. By the time they leave I will (I hope) realize I don't actually need most of the various hair products and other items and just dispose of them.


In the kitchen we really only had two cabinets that required proofing. One contains liquor and the other cleaning agents. Once again, it may be a challenge for me to get past the child locks but there will be enough people around with fully operational hands to help, and it makes me feel more confident that if I can't get into these protected areas, my grandson probably won't either.

downstairs

upstairs

Back to the bathrooms, we have a half bath downstairs and a full bath upstairs for visitors convenience. Stairs are also not extremely safe for an almost 4 year old though he is very good at navigating them I would prefer that when the need is urgent, he didn't have to, so we purchased a step and a child sized toilet seat for both bathrooms.

Again, I see another issue. I need to remove the plunger from behind the toilet upstairs and put it in the garage. The garage! We definitely need to put another of those covers on the door out to the garage, apart from all the usual dangers such as tools and garden and household cleaning agents, there is a step down to a concrete floor.

I also purchased soap for washing tiny hands - of course we already have soap, but if washing hands is fun, it is much more likely to also be thorough.


Finally, we bought a screen for the fire. Like I said, I still feel bad about that one. And, as you can see, we also bought Christmas stockings, not really part of the child proofing, but definitely child friendly.

Ah! Looking at this photo I see another potential danger. To the left of the fireplace as I look at it, I see the door to my mother in law's master suite, therein lies a whole new set of dangers. Another fire, another bathroom filled with potential adventures for a small boy, and a large bedroom with all the small items an elderly lady gathers through the years. Here is another door that needs a cover for the handle and we will have to be sure to keep that door closed at all times.

So, what have I got?
1. Remove plunger
2. Cover garage door handle
3. Cover great granny's door handle
4. Remove the plastic bag doll

Oh, and we do have a safety gate to prevent him wandering down the stairs at night.  Hopefully that will do it, I am still not stupid but now I am old.

E for B

Used to be an advertising slogan when I was a kid.  ' E for B and be your best ', then they roped in George Best, a famous soccer player in the 70s and it became 'E for B and Georgie Best'.

Watch on YouTube

I like eggs, and frequently have two poached eggs for breakfast, and when I have eggs, I particularly like them with hot salsa on.

At work we have a fully stocked kitchen, but only egg substitute is available and I prefer real eggs, so I bring my own from home.  Even if I wanted to cook them by the old fashioned method in water, I can't because we don't have a stove, but as it is now possible to microwave them successfully, without major issues - usually - that is what I do.  I have a purpose designed microwave egg poacher and it works really well.

Sometimes however, either I forget it at home or it is in need of a wash, so I got in the habit of using a disposable paper bowl, with another upside-down on top, that works equally well - usually. This morning I broke two eggs into a bowl, covered it with a second bowl and mircorwaved it for 30 seconds, checked, another 30 seconds and another check, then a final 30 seconds - perfect!  Added a spoonful of hot, chunky salsa and cut into one of the eggs.  Note to self:  'cut the egg before adding salsa'. The explosion would have been less messy. I guess I should be thankful that I added that extra 30 seconds and the eggs were not soft.

Yes, it exploded and I don't just mean it popped and spat a bit. No. It was a massive explosion, I could actually see the debris flying in all directions. And the smell! oh dear me that was horrible! my desk was complete covered in small globs of egg and salsa.  Worse, it was in my hair, my face, up my sleeves and down the legs of my jeans.

By the time I had wrapped what remained in the bowl in a few layes of tightly sealed plastic bags and transported it to the bin in the kitchen (didn't want that smell lingering in my office all day if I could help it), wiped down my desk and rinsed off the spots and splashes from my clothes, and picked what I could see out of my hair, I was ready for breakfast. Yes, I know darwin award on its way, I tried again.

This time I did have the sense to not add salsa, but surely it wouldn't happen a second time.. right?  wrong!  3 x 30 seconds, pulled the eggs out, they looked lovely, but I stood as far back as I could and gently poked one with the tip of a knife

it exploded too - not quite as spectacularly, but with the same appauling smell.

Another trip to the kitchen with a plastic bag of the remains and I settled for some fruit and nuts for my breakfast.

The foot again

Apparently it takes as long to make a baby as it does to heal from bunion surgery.  Mine was the 8th of March, and  this week, for the first time since my operation, I noticed that the swelling has finally gone and my foot has returned to a normal size.  I am sure the hammer toe was minor compared with the bunion and as the last of the swelling was all based around the joint of my big toe, I attribute this long healing period entirely to the bunion.

The main reason I noticed is, due to the icy cold weather, I got out my very comfortable, fur lined boots and discovered I could finally get my right foot into them.

Today I wallowed in the comfort because these same boots, while cozy and comfortable as far as my left foot was concerned, always caused me at least, some discomfort and often considerable pain due to the hammer toe. Now both feet felt utterly wonderful.  Warm, cozy and completely pain free. This, because the second hammer toe is not yet developed enough for the joint to be forced up into the boot upper, that will happen eventully, but I am hopeful that I will be able to schedule surgery before it gets too bad. (see original blog on the new hammer toe here)

However, in this photo I am seated. When I walk I do notice some slight friction on the hammering joint of my newly deformed toe, but nothing like it was for the other toe - yet. Surgery will be in March and of course, then I will have to go through another period of wearing a surgical shoe and allowing the swelling to subside, and have the pin removed, before I can once again get into my own shoes, but the expectation is that the recovery period will be much shorter for one small toe. This time I will not have to worry about the pin removal as last time it was completely painless. Even better, because I am electing to have the surgery in March, as before, I can look forward to my winter boots fitting for next winter, though I do hope it won't be as cold as it has been so far this year.

I am excited to try on all of my other shoes now.  They have been tucked away in my closet for well over a year as it became too painful to wear most of them months before surgery.