Well, all my eating finally caught up with me.  I gained two pounds.  So yesterday, I paid attention to what I ate and how much I ate.  I am one of those people that burns calories just sitting around thinking, so it won't be a problem to get back to normal.  I just don't want to ever let it get away from me.

And right after I committed myself to watch what I eat, Becky called to tell me to come eat asparagus risotto.  Which I couldn't turn down.  One of the times we were in Florence, I ate it every day for a week.  I'll recommit tomorrow.

Wednesday is brown bean day for my neighbors, Linda and John Kerley.  Which they always share with me.  But now that they are in the process of moving, so I told them that I would make the beans, cornbread and fried okra today.  They were excited about that because they've packed their dishes.  But I'll have to "steam" some okra for myself if I'm gonna be serious about the two pounds.

I got my flu shot yesterday morning.  If you haven't gotten yours, get yourself to Walgreens or CVS.  They are free.  America bases how bad the flu season is going to be here by what it was doing in Australia for the last few months--and they say it's wicked this year.  Just do it--go get the shot.

I usually quit going into the auditorium on Sundays during flu season.  Our church has an entry with sofas and chairs and multiple TVs and a few people sit out there for the service to avoid the crowd.  So that's what I do during flu season.  It's not the same as being inside for the service, and yes I could stay home and watch it on TV, but being there is a life commitment for me.

And yes, I could get the flu anyway, but my doctors don't want me in a crowd where there is a better chance of being exposed to the flu.  So as soon as the flu starts making the rounds, that's where I'll be.  I just have to tell everyone in my class to get their shot and stay well.  I'm careful. The rest is up to God.

The thing that protects people on my street and the people on your street is that almost everyone in an established neighborhood is honest and watches out for each other.   We are non-violent and honest by an unspoken agreement, so that we can live in peace and not fear each other.  We don't for the most part need police protection.  Most of us follow unspoken rules.  Mow the lawn...etc.

I can't imagine what it would be like to fear my neighbors.  Or live in a community where gunfire is the norm.  I want peace and security from fear.

As I have grown older, it is a big comfort for me that I trust my neighbors.  They check to see if I turn my outside lights on at night, and if I forget to turn them off the next morning by dawn, they call and check on me.

Neighborhoods are made up of similar kinds of people.  Most times by economic stability and educational levels.  We have all kinds of races and ethnicities in my neighborhood.  Race and ethnicity don't seem to be a factor here.

Educational level seems to be the determining factor, because your educational level determines the kind of job you qualify for.  And subsequently your income, which determines the type of house you buy.  And the area it is in.

America has always been known for our commitment to education for all.  But somewhere along the way, we have lost our commitment to the "system" of education.  "Everyone makes a passing grade" is the new norm whether they earn it or not.  "Everyone is promoted" whether they have mastered what they need to master or not.  Respect for teachers by students has evaporated.

And teachers, weary of the lack of support are leaving the system.  If we lose education, we will ultimately lose safety in our neighborhoods.  An educated society (for all) is a safer society.  What has happened to us??

I lost my purse.  I was dressed and on my way to church and couldn't find it anywhere.  I had my phone, so I gave up and drove without a driver's license to my church, and thought if I got picked up for some reason that surely a patrolman would understand. I don't know why I thought my phone would help.

Before I left, I mentally went through everywhere I had been for the last two days, and the last time I had my purse, I was in the car, going through the Brahms drive through for a hamburger on Friday night.  I didn't leave the house from Friday night to Sunday morning.

So here I am, sitting in church trying to concentrate on what the preacher is saying, and all I can think of is "Where is my purse?"  And since I am in the house of God, where better to send a petition to Him?  "I've lost my purse.  You know where it is, Father.  Can you help me find it?" I prayed.

And somewhere during the service, I began to think about a nightmare I had during the previous night.  I dreamed I was in a warehouse full of people that was on fire, and I was responsible to help get people out.  I was on the second or third floor balcony trying to get a man who was sweeping floors to get out before the smoke got him.  You know how dreams are, they don't make sense.

I woke up in the middle of the fire-dream.  It was 2:45 in the morning and in a sleep induced daze, I decided I should check my house.  What if God was warning me of something.  Everything was fine, but I picked up my purse and computer and took them to the bedroom and put them on the floor by the window so I could have them in case of fire and I needed to get out of the house.  Nothing makes sense at 3 in the morning when you aren't really awake. And I didn't remember any of it until God reminded me of what I did sleep walking in the night.  I found my purse.  I'm not having any more dreams that cause me to do something stupid that I don't remember doing the next day. 

I have put off going to the grocery store to buy milk and bread for a week.  Today, I'm going to do it.  Eventually, you gotta do what you gotta do.

The thing that stops me is getting in the car.  The simplest things get harder. 

It's in my head--I know--but I'd much rather sit and read than go to the grocery store.

Jeanette has offered to go for me.  Pat has too.  But I think if a person stops going to the grocery store, that's it.  You're done.  Jeanette brought me salt last week--I was out.  That helped.  You've got to have salt.

I'm just never going to let that grocery shopping job go for six weeks again.  That's what I did last month.  Getting stuff out of the car and into the kitchen was monumental.  Sack after sack.  I'm never going to do that again. 

I tip someone to load it in the car, but I have to get it out and get it in the house when I get home.

What I should be saying is "Praise God I can still do it.  Praise God I have the funds to buy what I need.  Praise God I live in a nation where I can go to the store and buy anything I want.  "Praise God I have neighbors who bring me a plate of food two or three times a week."

Linda, next door cooks beans and fried okra every Wednesday.  I make the cornbread.  They are moving.  It makes me sad.  They have been wonderful neighbors.

I'm going to the store and get milk and bread...I am...I am.

I went to one of those "All You Can Eat" buffets for lunch yesterday.  You gain five pounds just looking at all the food.

And of course, you eat too much.

I've often wondered why God made all the good stuff high calorie.  Everything you really want to eat makes you gain too much weight.

Which means that you have to discipline yourself and balance your meals.  It's a good thing I love turnip greens.  You can eat all the turnip greens you want and never gain a pound.

Problem is, they aren't any good unless you cook them in bacon grease.

It's also a good thing that I have one of those high metabolic systems.  I burn up calories just sitting and thinking.


Lately, I've been so mad at my publisher that I constantly stew and burn calories thinking about the fact that I'm trapped.  I can't finish her editing unless she calls me, and I can't control when that happens.

We've finished 68 pages and have 136 to go.  It is the most frustrating thing I ever remember being involved in.  I'm not the problem.  The hold up is on her end of the deal.  This book was supposed to be published in September.   

Obviously, that isn't going to happen.  I keep reminding the publisher that she may have all the time in the world--but I don't.

I should have let Carolyn edit it and published it myself.  But I didn't, and now I'm stuck at the beck and call of a publisher.  It's driving me nuts.

I've had two Spam calls this week already.  Telling me that my Social Security number has been compromised and I need to contact them immediately.

I know not to answer, but there are so many older people who lived in a time when crime of this nature wasn't common.  They think the calls are real.  

One of the women in my choir gave the caller everything.  They cleaned out her bank account.  She was poor to begin with.  

Most older people haven't kept up with the internet.  They are used to having someone "real" talk to them on the phone.  That's how they lived their entire lives until the internet came along, and many of them don't know what the internet is, and the others don't trust it.  Talking to a real person on the phone is their way to get things done.  So they trust "real" voices.

Someone told the choir lady she should have checked it out and "Googled" it.  She didn't know what google was.

I sympathize.  It's hard to keep up.  Just when I learn how to do something, it becomes obsolete.  I was cleaning my garage yesterday, and found all sorts of hand held devices that had to be trashed.  Wires, cords to things no longer useful.  

Well, not entirely useless, a family of mice had made a home under it all.

And a black widow spider had woven a web around the garage door beam that helps the door come down.

They are gone.  I wish spiders and mice would become obsolete.

I actually learned to play the marimba by accident.  I had gone to the tryouts for twirler at the high school--I was getting ready to enter the ninth grade which at the time was considered high school--freshman.  It was the last year ninth grade was included as high school in Pryor.

I didn't know how to twirl.  Why I thought I could be a twirler, I have no idea.  The band director informed me that I had to be in the band for a year before I could try out anyway.  I just thought you had to be cute!

So I asked him what I could play in the band and he told me that he didn't have any more chairs for woodwinds or reeds and that all the horns positions were filled as well.  But he did have a spot for one single percussionist who could cover a number of instruments Timpani drums, bell lyre, cymbals and marimba. 

The Timpani drums--or kettle drums--are a dual set of drums with the tones controlled by foot pedals.  You have to have a sense of the sound of the key to control the tone.  That was difficult.  You have to hear it--you can't see it.

I said okay.  I had never played any of those instruments.  But I could read music since I played piano--and the marimba had a piano type keyboard.  

The director's wife was a marimba teacher, so I took lessons.  First learning how to roll mallets on a drum, then two mallets in each hand on the marimba, four at a time.  By the end of that year I had become proficient, and people were asking me to play special music on the marimba for civic and other events.

I never learned to twirl.  

But God in his wisdom saw that I learned to do something that was unusual, something I could do at church.  Church doesn't need 81 year old twirlers.