Insight

FREEDOM RIDERS is the powerful harrowing and ultimately inspirational story of six months in 1961 that changed America forever. From May until November 1961, more than 400 black and white Americans risked their lives—and many endured savage beatings and imprisonment—for simply traveling together on buses and trains as they journeyed through the Deep South.

Sometimes I wonder how I got so old and know so little.  I watched "Freedom Riders" last night and learned much.

Food is Good

It started out that way....and I still feel that there's not much better than chocolate, a cold slug of milk, and a cup to fill with most anything.

Limping

The sun is out and my feet celebrate their escape from shoes and socks.  What better way to celebrate than by slipping on the flip-flops and getting a pedicure?  Lately, I have not had good luck with the nail care industry.  The last time I had my nails done, they hurt me.  "So saw-dee," followed several gouges with the electric drummel to the cuticle.  Time fades the memory of pain, so with a joyful step I entered DaVinci Nail Salon for my springtime pedicure.

"You wan calusel?"  I interpreted to mean, "Do you want your calluses gently removed?"  Throwing caution to the wind, I responded in the affirmative.  "That be 10 dalla mo."  And thus began the torture.

It all started innocently enough with a bit of filing and clipping of the nails, but then she smeared on some sort of callus remover (with rubber gloves - I should have had a clue) and placed my feet in baggies.  With the massage chair set at full intensity, I closed my eyes and tried to relax.  Every so often I felt a stinging sensation which became a bit more stabbing with time, but I so enjoyed the chair....

I have used a pumice stone before so I am familiar with the technique of rubbing calluses with the stone until they are gradually removed.  Well baby, there was no gradual with this gal.  She pulled out a grinding stone the size of a full pound of butter and began her assault.  The heels were okay, but when she laid into the arches (Does anyone have calluses there???), I felt myself weakening and began to wince each time she took strokes vigorous enough to remove barnacles  from the hull of a ship.  "Oh, so saw-dee, dat hut?" would surely be followed by a more gentle technique.  No such luck.

My mind wandered from the relaxation of the massage chair to wondering whether the footbath water might be turning pink from my blood.  It is a good thing that I chose bright red polish to finish up the job or people might have noticed the drips of blood around my fleeing feet as I made my way to the polish dryer where a sign was clearly posted, "Fan will shut off when you move out of your hands."  Would this take an out-of-body experience to finally escape?

I always, always tip.  Somehow, today, I couldn't bring myself to it.  When I got out to the car, I examined my feet.  It looked like I had decided to slide barefoot down a rock embankment.  I headed to WalMart to purchase some antibacterial and bandages.   This is not an exaggeration!  My kids accuse me of exaggerating - not so today.

On a happy note, the toenails are quite pretty and will look good as I prop them up for relief, because walking without a limp is out of the question.

Giddy with Joy

Visiting a nursery, early in the spring, when it's raining outside, when nobody else is planting, gives  immense joy to a true gardener.  Before a nursery visit, all half-started projects must be complete so that purchases can be made without guilt.  One must feel confident that the newbies feel immediately welcomed and at home.

Black, rich potting soil was lovingly and carefully deposited along the lawn edge on the south side of my house.  In the rain, it was leveled and Swiss Chard seeds that had sprouted on a paper towel-lined cookie sheet were placed in their little furrow and gently covered.  Rain took care of the rest as a coupon-blessed customer cruised to the target destination in American Fork.

Finding solid flats of annuals is a treat because the little plants seem to do better throughout the year and one feels noble, somewhat smug, getting a better price. 

Impatiens were purchased.... lavender

and white....

Geraniums never come in a solid flat, and one can justify their purchase if the mental monetary limit for the day is not reached.  The intoxicating fragrance of geranium leaves takes control over any power of reason.  The aforementioned coupon kept the purchase just under the limit. 

When the rain eased up and the weather verified online, geraniums were welcomed into my yard.  Impatiens will have to wait until the threat of a few cold nights passes.  They are snuggled nicely against the garbage cans in the garage awaiting their turn.

Whamo!

Sitting calmly in one's exercise wear, sipping hot cocoa, watching "The News Hour," is hardly the place one expects to receive an emotional whamo.  The mind is set in the "off" position as the Bin Laden impact on the upcoming presidential election is debated.  Sigh.....

Without warning, Liberty Mutual runs a short add showing people being nice, doing kind things.  Then the whamo, "Every day millions of people are choosing to do the right thing."  I hate it when I unexpectedly get choked up over a TV ad,

...in my exercise wear,

...sipping hot cocoa,

...watching a "News Hour" debate.

Bring It On Darla

Thanks to my old pal Darla, another section of the bathtub has flaked off.  Once again, the call was made and we waited 2 months for an appointment.

At 9:30 a.m. sharp I was ready for my appointment in the 10 a.m. to 1 p.m repair time bracket.  With the preparation skills of an expert, I removed the screen and window from above the tub and masked the window frame and stationary window.  From past experience I know that the deadly white paint mist would make its way to the screen, never to be removed.  My mind raced as I frantically applied a coat of furniture wax on all bathroom surfaces.  This was utter genious on my part to make the inevitable paint overspray and drips easier to remove.  I even gave a generous application to the faucets and shower head.  All other rooms were closed off, pictures taken off the walls, rugs removed, fans turned off, and the worrying and waiting began.  

I am no dummy.  This time I was ready and would prevent any possible skrew-up.  Bring it on, Darla. 

At 1:30 p.m. there was still no sign of my repair crew.  After anxiously waiting and calling for 4 hours and 45 minutes, the white-nostril-haired (from above said mist) guy in painter's coveralls arrived.  I whisked him off to the bathroom and showed him the flakeage.

Him:  "Eh, yup, yup, looks like it's flaking."  "Eh-yup, yup, looks like she sprayed over the caulking."

Me:  "Yup."

Him:  "Shouldn't take too long."

An hour later, he announced that it was all done and we shouldn't use the tub for 24 hours.  My first thought was that maybe we should never use it, perhaps just call it art and longingly remember back to the days when our worries were not about our tub, but about wars, sick kids, or global warming.

I'm beginning to feel that this lifetime warranty may be a disguise just to see who wears down first.  Ha!  They must not know who they are tanglin' with.

Tribute

My girl shall live,
Within a tent.
Her dreams come true,
Through hard work sent.

With springtime rains,
And summer heat,
Her college goals,
Will not be beat.

Her bones upon,
The earth she’ll lay.
And from the gov,
Collect her pay.

She soon will wear,
Her fancy pants,
With pockets huge,
For grub and ants. 

Her massive boots,
Will trudge through mud.
Granola treats,
Will be her bud.

The forest trails,
She will put down,
With ax and pick,
And ne’r a frown.

The bush and briar,
She’ll chop and whack.
We hope she lives,
Through bear attack.

She’s on her way,
So look out world.
Her outdoor self,
Is now unfurled.

And when she’s done,
All bronze and buff,
We know our gal,
Shall take no guff.