We are very fortunate to live in a neighborhood with lots of kids. They range from from two to teens and they belong to the folks next door or across the street.
We get a kick out of watching them play. The younger ones in particular remind us of a group of playful pups. That's why when we see them out there we tell the spouse “the puppies are out.” Their energy is amazing. They run, they shout, they dash here and there and it's wonderful to watch.
They were out in force today. It was sunny and warm and while the dads mowed lawns and did other springtime chores around the yards, the kids were all over the place.
We watched in between our own chores and enjoyed the show.
They say older people need to be around kids and dogs. That's fine as long as we don't have to take care of either.
That reminds me, tomorrow is Mother's Day and we are looking forward to spending part of the day with our son and daughter-in-law and as many of their four grown pups who may be around.
Saturday, May 7, 2011
Friday, May 6, 2011
The Times They Are A'Sneezin'
I don't know what it is about the New York Times but every time I read it I start to sneeze or choke. And tonight, a new wrinkle – my eyes started watering as I was trying to read the main section.
Years ago I heard that as the paper comes off the presses it is sprayed with some sort of fine powder to help quick-dry the ink. Trouble is, that powder ends up in my nose or throat and now maybe my eyes. Once I tried to read the paper with a surgical mask over my nose and mouth. That experiment lasted a few pages.
Does anyone else have these symptoms or am I just allergic to what I'm reading?
Funny thing is that reading news on line makes my eyes heavy and I fight to stay awake. So reading the paper on line is no solution. Maybe I'm becoming allergic to news entirely. It certainly isn't the profession I worked in oh, so many years ago.
TV news has become a caricature of itself. The radio commercials are longer than the news stories. And everyone thinks newspapers slant the news to reflect their editorial positions.
But we must keep up somehow. So we will man up and sneeze, cough and cry through the newspaper.
Gesundheit!
Years ago I heard that as the paper comes off the presses it is sprayed with some sort of fine powder to help quick-dry the ink. Trouble is, that powder ends up in my nose or throat and now maybe my eyes. Once I tried to read the paper with a surgical mask over my nose and mouth. That experiment lasted a few pages.
Does anyone else have these symptoms or am I just allergic to what I'm reading?
Funny thing is that reading news on line makes my eyes heavy and I fight to stay awake. So reading the paper on line is no solution. Maybe I'm becoming allergic to news entirely. It certainly isn't the profession I worked in oh, so many years ago.
TV news has become a caricature of itself. The radio commercials are longer than the news stories. And everyone thinks newspapers slant the news to reflect their editorial positions.
But we must keep up somehow. So we will man up and sneeze, cough and cry through the newspaper.
Gesundheit!
Thursday, May 5, 2011
Net Loss
Last week I forgot to record one of our favorite network TV shows.
So I went to the network's website and sure enough there were several weeks of full episodes, including the one we missed. But we had to watch it on our PC monitor since our PC isn't connected to the TV.
What a disappointment. First of all the picture was about a third of the screen and surrounded by very distracting ads. And all the commercials were included. I DVR everything and skip the commercials when we watch the programs.
What's worse, the video and audio were out of sync. I tried it for about 10 minutes and had to bail. It was awful.
I admit my PC is about 10 years old but I really don't think that had anything to do with it. What concerns me is that if I finally get that Blu-ray player I've been talking about the feeds through my PC will be just as bad as this one.
Here's the dilemma. Tonight we watched a Netflix DVD of “The King's Speech.” It was wonderful. If we had streamed it directly from the internet, via Netflix or any other service that comes with a Blu-ray player, would the quality of the picture be just as good?
It muddles my mind.
So I went to the network's website and sure enough there were several weeks of full episodes, including the one we missed. But we had to watch it on our PC monitor since our PC isn't connected to the TV.
What a disappointment. First of all the picture was about a third of the screen and surrounded by very distracting ads. And all the commercials were included. I DVR everything and skip the commercials when we watch the programs.
What's worse, the video and audio were out of sync. I tried it for about 10 minutes and had to bail. It was awful.
I admit my PC is about 10 years old but I really don't think that had anything to do with it. What concerns me is that if I finally get that Blu-ray player I've been talking about the feeds through my PC will be just as bad as this one.
Here's the dilemma. Tonight we watched a Netflix DVD of “The King's Speech.” It was wonderful. If we had streamed it directly from the internet, via Netflix or any other service that comes with a Blu-ray player, would the quality of the picture be just as good?
It muddles my mind.
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
The Real "Decider"
George Bush may have dubbed himself “The Decider” but I bet he had to ask Laura's permission first before using that title.
No man in his right mind makes any decision, especially a social engagement, without first checking with his own “Decider,” the woman in his life, wife or otherwise. After all, she has her calendar, which he rarely keeps. In fact, I don't write anything on my calendar until I check it with hers.
This subject came up innocently enough this afternoon when we were talking about making a date with old friends. I instantly said: “you call.” What would be the point if I called? We'd only have to turn the phone over to the ladies to check their respective calendars to see when we were all available.
This “deciding” business cuts across all categories. What we do on vacations. Where we go. How long a trip we should take. Example: I'd love to go on an African Safari. Too long a flight, she says. Too expensive, too, she adds. (I'll give her that one.) Hey, here's one every man asks his “Decider.” What's for dinner? Sound familiar?
Florida in the winter, she asks? I hate Florida. Score one for me, although I'll break down once in a while for a short visit with family in central Florida.
Would you have it any other way?
I'm happy when she's happy. Peace prevails.
Happy Mother's Day all you “Deciders.”
(Disclosure: This Blog was approved by my “Decider.”)
No man in his right mind makes any decision, especially a social engagement, without first checking with his own “Decider,” the woman in his life, wife or otherwise. After all, she has her calendar, which he rarely keeps. In fact, I don't write anything on my calendar until I check it with hers.
This subject came up innocently enough this afternoon when we were talking about making a date with old friends. I instantly said: “you call.” What would be the point if I called? We'd only have to turn the phone over to the ladies to check their respective calendars to see when we were all available.
This “deciding” business cuts across all categories. What we do on vacations. Where we go. How long a trip we should take. Example: I'd love to go on an African Safari. Too long a flight, she says. Too expensive, too, she adds. (I'll give her that one.) Hey, here's one every man asks his “Decider.” What's for dinner? Sound familiar?
Florida in the winter, she asks? I hate Florida. Score one for me, although I'll break down once in a while for a short visit with family in central Florida.
Would you have it any other way?
I'm happy when she's happy. Peace prevails.
Happy Mother's Day all you “Deciders.”
(Disclosure: This Blog was approved by my “Decider.”)
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
Hearing vs. Listening
We were having a silly disagreement in the car this afternoon coming home from shopping.
It had to do with the discount being offered in a store coupon. The deal was $2 off if you bought three multi-packs of a certain item. A real bargain, right?
Nevertheless, the discussion turned on the definition of multi-pack. True, there were two different sizes of multi-packs in the store, a 12-pack or a six-pack. We usually buy the six-pack. So I interpreted the coupon to be valid for our usual purchase, the six-pack, but this time for three of them.
My wife, however, wanted to make sure I was not confusing the term multi-pack with the larger 12-pack size. So we went around a bit on this major subject until I asked to see the coupon. Sure, enough, I expounded, we will get $2 off by buying three six-packs of the stuff. Which is what we did.
The “discussion” on the way home reminded me of how I define the difference between “hearing” and “listening.” Hearing means you hear the words. Listening means you understand the words.
Know what I mean?
It had to do with the discount being offered in a store coupon. The deal was $2 off if you bought three multi-packs of a certain item. A real bargain, right?
Nevertheless, the discussion turned on the definition of multi-pack. True, there were two different sizes of multi-packs in the store, a 12-pack or a six-pack. We usually buy the six-pack. So I interpreted the coupon to be valid for our usual purchase, the six-pack, but this time for three of them.
My wife, however, wanted to make sure I was not confusing the term multi-pack with the larger 12-pack size. So we went around a bit on this major subject until I asked to see the coupon. Sure, enough, I expounded, we will get $2 off by buying three six-packs of the stuff. Which is what we did.
The “discussion” on the way home reminded me of how I define the difference between “hearing” and “listening.” Hearing means you hear the words. Listening means you understand the words.
Know what I mean?
Monday, May 2, 2011
Old Friends
There is a bond between old friends that may stretch but rarely breaks. We all have those relationships with former classmates, neighbors, workplace colleagues, etc.
We received a phone call (remember them?) from one such friend tonight. She was a neighbor many, many years ago and although we and she have relocated our families over the years, we still keep in touch, mostly by phone or an occasional email. Tonight it was a phone call and it resulted in a pleasant chat.
(Full disclosure: she's also a follower of this blog so I have to be careful what I say here.)
To prove her loyalty she asked about my new four-in-one printer and I had to admit that so far the only thing I've done with it is print. I haven't even tried the two-sided printing feature which she says is great for her business.
She also asked me if I ever got a blu-ray disc player. Again, I had to admit not yet. Maybe in June.
But the reason she called was to report on a call she received from yet another former neighbor of ours who she hadn't spoken with for at least 10 years. After that conversation she was so concerned about this woman's health she had to share those concerns with us. After all, what are friends for if not to share mutual concerns.
So after sharing what there was to share and catching up in general we said goodbye. Until the next time we have the urge to touch base with each other. Sooner rather than later, I hope.
(Printed on one side for editing purposes before publishing.)
We received a phone call (remember them?) from one such friend tonight. She was a neighbor many, many years ago and although we and she have relocated our families over the years, we still keep in touch, mostly by phone or an occasional email. Tonight it was a phone call and it resulted in a pleasant chat.
(Full disclosure: she's also a follower of this blog so I have to be careful what I say here.)
To prove her loyalty she asked about my new four-in-one printer and I had to admit that so far the only thing I've done with it is print. I haven't even tried the two-sided printing feature which she says is great for her business.
She also asked me if I ever got a blu-ray disc player. Again, I had to admit not yet. Maybe in June.
But the reason she called was to report on a call she received from yet another former neighbor of ours who she hadn't spoken with for at least 10 years. After that conversation she was so concerned about this woman's health she had to share those concerns with us. After all, what are friends for if not to share mutual concerns.
So after sharing what there was to share and catching up in general we said goodbye. Until the next time we have the urge to touch base with each other. Sooner rather than later, I hope.
(Printed on one side for editing purposes before publishing.)
Sunday, May 1, 2011
Practicing Patience
There are few things more annoying than a traffic jam. Even a small one. Perhaps just one car slow off the mark when the light turns green.
You know the old definition of a New York Minute – the time it takes for the guy behind you to blow his horn if you don't move when you're supposed to. Well, when you get to a certain age, things either speed up or you slow down. I suspect the latter.
So rather than flip my lid at minor disturbances I “practice patience.” It's a technique my wife suggested I try rather than fret, fidget and fume behind the wheel.
To implement the “method” when faced with a frustrating moment, I actually say out loud “I am going to practice patience.” Then I slow my breathing and wait, and wait, and wait. Eventually whatever is causing my annoyance is resolved and we move on.
Do I feel virtuous for having momentarily conquered my natural impatience? Not entirely. As I move on a careful listener can still hear me muttering unprintable comments about the driver or drivers in front of me.
But I do practice although my patience is not always perfect.
You know the old definition of a New York Minute – the time it takes for the guy behind you to blow his horn if you don't move when you're supposed to. Well, when you get to a certain age, things either speed up or you slow down. I suspect the latter.
So rather than flip my lid at minor disturbances I “practice patience.” It's a technique my wife suggested I try rather than fret, fidget and fume behind the wheel.
To implement the “method” when faced with a frustrating moment, I actually say out loud “I am going to practice patience.” Then I slow my breathing and wait, and wait, and wait. Eventually whatever is causing my annoyance is resolved and we move on.
Do I feel virtuous for having momentarily conquered my natural impatience? Not entirely. As I move on a careful listener can still hear me muttering unprintable comments about the driver or drivers in front of me.
But I do practice although my patience is not always perfect.
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