Fall Break

A few days of vacation

Dennis and Isaac are both on fall break -- Dennis from his school job, and Isaac from college. Dennis still has to go in to work a few days, and Isaac has to work at his job a few days. I don't go back to work until Saturday, so I have more days off than either of them, for once. This is my R&R before the craziness of November and December at my workplace.

My goal tomorrow is to stack the firewood that Dennis has been hauling home and pitching into a big pile. He's been cutting wood a few hours each afternoon, and he's hoping to cut a lot more this week. A friend is having three dying or dead old trees removed, and Dennis is cutting up the branches as they are dropped. Two of the trees are white oaks and the other is a hickory. It's going to be excellent firewood.

Isaac and I are going to take a small trip to Henderson, KY, and Evansville, IN, during his time off. Evansville and Henderson are across the Ohio River from each other, or nearly so.

A lot of people go to Evansville to gamble on the riverboat, but we're just planning to go to the mall.  We also want to visit the World War II ship that is docked at Evansville. It is the USS LST-325 which was manufactured at the Evansville Shipyard in the early 1940's.

UPDATE 10/14/08: A reader has written to tell me that the USS LST-325 was actually manufactured in Mississippi, but it is like those manufactured at Evansville.

UPDATE 10/16/08: We learned during the tour that the LST-325 was manufactured in Pennsylvania.  Evansville was selected as its permanent docking site because of the enthusiastic support when it visited there on tour.

In Henderson, we want to go to the Audubon Museum at the state park, and I want to do the walking tour of the historic district. Henderson was once a major shipping port for dark tobacco, and it has some beautiful old homes that were built with the money that flowed through town from the tobacco trade.

A couple of my other projects for the week involve paint. I still haven't finished painting the baseboard in the bathroom, so I'm hoping to get that done.

I also want to spray-paint an old file cabinet. I'll do a little sanding to take off the loose rust, wash it good with soapy water, and then use Rustoleum Rusty Metal Primer, followed up by Rustoleum Hammered paint. These are both spray products. I used them on a similar old file cabinet recently, and the finish looks like it was done in the factory. I was very pleased.

The other thing that I really need to work on is a trench coat that I've promised to sew for Isaac for a Halloween party. It's supposed to be an easy pattern, so maybe I can get it done in one day of dedicated sewing.

I'm looking forward to doing all these things, except for stacking the firewood. However, there is a certain satisfaction in admiring a big, tidy stack of firewood, securely tarped to keep it dry until the cold days of winter when it's needed. It's a worthwhile chore.

Poll Worker's Day

Working the election

Dennis and I were poll workers in Kentucky's primary election on Tuesday.

As judges, one of our responsibilities was to provide the voters with the correct ballots and to tell them how to record the ballots on the machines. It was a primary election, so the Republicans had a different ballot than the Democrats.

One of our machines the E-Slate, has been used for several elections now. It is designed to make voting easier for disabled people. A wheelchair can roll right up to the screen and controls. The buttons and dials are large, and there are earphones. The words on the screen are in a large font.

The other machine, the E-Scan, is a new machine that we used for the first time. Many of the voters were apprehensive when told they'd be using a new machine. However, many remarked afterward that voting had been quick and easy.

We gave each E-Scan voter a paper ballot and explained how to mark it. The voter took the ballot to a privacy booth, marked it, and signed his name on a stub at the bottom of the ballot. Next, the voter brought the ballot to the E-Scan machine. He tore off the stub with his signature and put it into a slot in the side of the E-Scan. Then he fed the ballot into the scanner.

The E-Scan refused to accept a couple of ballots. In both cases, there were marks in too many boxes. One man had made a mistake and partially blackened an extra box. The other fellow told us that he did not realize he could only vote for one in each race. He had voted for several.

We couldn't look at their ballots to figure out the problem -- that would have been illegal. Rather, we made suggestions, based on the error message. The spoiled ballots were put into the slot in the side of the machine, and the voters received fresh ballots to try again.

Our precinct's voting place is a country church basement. The church members are having supper and a revival meeting every night this week. There were lots of leftovers in the refrigerators, and they urged us to help ourselves. We did try their banana pudding and Strawberry Delight. The Strawberry Delight was wonderful -- I must get that recipe! (This sounds like it.)

After we locked the doors at 6 p.m., we closed the machines and printed the tallies. Then the machines were taken down and secured. That completed the day for the other election workers, but the judges (Dennis and I) had to take the election returns to the courthouse.

At the courthouse, we waited in line to have our suitcase checked. The girls from the county clerk office checked each ease for the control unit for the E-Slate, the voter register, the clerk's and sheriff's records, leftover ballots, and the envelopes that contained the vote tallies. It was a rather nervous moment when they opened our suitcase, and we were relieved when we had checked out OK.

It was a long day (5:15 a.m. when we left the house and 7:45 p.m. when we got home.) We got to see a lot of our neighbors though, and we helped them vote, so it was a day well-spent.

New Job

Working is not what it's cracked up to be.

A while back, I applied for a job at one of the larger stores in Hopkinsville, never dreaming that they would actually hire me. After all, I have tried and tried to get a job (a real job, not sub teaching) in the local school system, and they don't hire me, despite my Missouri teacher's certificate and two degrees.

Anyway, I did accept a part-time retail job, and I have been working for the last week or so. The store has been busy every time I've worked so far, and I suspect that it is only going to get worse as Christmas approaches. I'm getting lots of practice on the cash register, merchandise returns, etc. due to the abundance of shoppers.

I have run various cash registers through the years, but the registers at this store are the most computerized that I've used. I'm getting more comfortable with them as the days go by. Now, I'm not as worried about running the cash register as I am about closing it. I had my first experience with that on Sunday night, and I didn't like it.

The girl who is my main trainer is about the same age as my daughter. She's bright and quick -- almost too quick for me to see and remember all that she's doing. She probably goes home and tells her husband that they hired the village idiot to work in her department.

Working is cutting into my blogging time. I must learn to write faster and shorter. I also need to jot down ideas when they come to me, because I may be brain-dead when I finally sit down at my computer.

I'm sure I'll soon get used to working again. After I'm trained and the Christmas season is over, maybe I'll even have some sort of a regular schedule. And it's only a part-time job. But right now, it is a bit of a shock after three years of soul-restoring intentional unemployment.

An Election Worker's Day

Providing a fair and honest election to my precinct

Yesterday, I was an election worker in Kentucky's General Election. My day began when the alarm rang at 4:15 AM. I left the house at 5:15 AM and drove a couple of miles to the local church that is the polling place for our precinct. Other workers arrived at about the same time, and we got the voting machines ready to go, tables arranged, sample ballots posted, and "Vote Here" signs installed outside.

At 6:00 a.m., we had our first voters. The next 12 hours went by fairly quickly, with a steady stream of people passing through. Usually, we had only one or two voters at a time, but at times, we had up to a dozen people waiting to vote. In all, about 1/3 of the registered voters in our precinct cast a ballot.

Due to a shortage of election workers, we had a three-person crew. We are supposed to have four workers -- clerk, Republican judge, Democrat judge, and sheriff. Since we didn't have a sheriff, we had to share that job between us.

Voter registration irregularities

We did have a few registration irregularities. We had several people who had moved from the precinct but had not changed their registration to their new precinct. It's illegal for them to vote in a precinct where they don't live, so we had to fill out paperwork for them and send them to their proper polling place.

In another case, a wife was listed as a legal voter in the book, but the husband was not listed, even though he had voted and resided in the precinct for years, just as his wife has. The county clerk allowed him to vote, but it required some phone calls and paperwork. The man was irritated and I understand why, but it certainly wasn't our fault.

In another case, a voter was incorrectly listed so we couldn't find his name. After a phone call to the County Clerk's office, we learned that he was listed with his middle name as his last name and his last name as his first name. He was able to vote under his incorrectly-listed name, and he filled out a new voter registration card to change his name so it will be correct next time (we hope.)

Problems with voting

An elderly gentleman requested the old voting machine. He couldn't hear very well. When he came out of the booth, we election workers didn't think that we had heard the bell on his machine ring (indicating that his vote was cast.) He asserted that he wouldn't have heard the bell if it did ring, but he had certainly pushed the "Vote" button. We commented that the lights next to the names on the screen were still flashing which indicated his vote was not complete. He insisted again that he had voted (!) so we didn't press the issue further. However, we don't think that his vote was recorded.

Workers aren't allowed to enter the booth with the voter, so it's hard to determine exactly what the problem is in some cases. One of the last voters of the day used the new voting machine and somehow managed to press buttons in a sequence that looped him back through the ballot several times. We tried to talk him through it from outside the booth. When the ballot has been successfully cast and the votes recorded, a success message and the American flag are displayed on the screen. He finally got that screen, but he was not satisfied that his vote had been counted.

Each of these incidents had to be recorded on the Sheriff's report, and some of them happened while we were pretty busy with voters, so it would have been good to have that fourth worker. Our precinct was one of several that did not have a full crew. I don't know why they can't find enough election workers. Is it the long day?

Following correct election procedures

Some voters seemed a bit miffed that they had to show an ID, but that's the rule unless an election worker will sign that he/she personally knows the person's identity.

I felt that all the election workers at our precinct were following regulations and procedures as best we could. We were going by the book. No one was trying to stretch or bend the rules or influence the voters. We were doing our best to provide a fair and honest election to the residents of our precinct.

After the polls were closed at 6:00 p.m., it took us about half an hour to print out the tapes on the machines, close them and shut them down, and pack up all the election materials. Then the other judge and I had to take the tapes, the memory units from the machines, and the voter books and other papers to the County Clerk's office.

One thing I learned is that it might be a good idea to check your voter registration at the courthouse once in a while, even if you've been voting regularly and haven't made any changes of address.

It was a long and tiring day, but it was good to participate in the exercise of democracy. I enjoyed it.

Related:
KY Poll Worker Charged With Assault -- Wow!
Fun, Civic Duty Cited as Reasons to Work the Polls -- Local election worker has served for 25 years.
Sheriff Called In to Solve Oak Grove Poll Problem -- Election workers coped with an inhospitable polling place elsewhere in my county. Check out the mayor's statement in the last paragraph. What an idiot. I hope the voters realize that he's messing with their voting rights, not just with the election workers who happened to be assigned there.

A Clutter Battle Fought and Won(?)

Cleaning out and re-accumulating

Casper The Incorrigible had a good time, early this morning before anyone was out of bed. He found the bottom door of the china cabinet open, so he explored that forbidden compartment while he had a chance.

To get in there, he had to push aside a stack of assorted foam and paper plates and plastic cups and tip over several tall flower vases. Most of this ended up on the floor in front of the china cabinet.

Somehow, picking up Casper's spill of paper plates and vases morphed into cleaning the china cabinet top to bottom. I "Windexed" the glass shelves and "Pledged" the wood. Then I rinsed the "china" and dried it.

This sounds so simple when I write it, but it took quite a while. I decided to pack away a few things I don't use much, donate a few things to our upcoming church garage sale, and reorganize the rest of it.

In the process, I decided that I don't need much more Anchor Hocking Early American Prescut (EAPC). I inherited my mother's 1960s glassware of this pattern, and I've collected it since then, thinking that I'll give each of my children a set when they set up a stable home. Thus I have two of many pieces -- or you might say, too many pieces!

I packed up the dishes and some other stuff for the church garage sale, and Isaac and I went to town to run some errands. We dropped off the garage sale items at church, and I must say, I was feeling quite virtuous about cleaning my china cabinet and getting rid of a whole box of clutter.

Then we went by the library and used the computers. When our time was up, Isaac went to look for some books. While waiting for him, I accidentally strayed into the magnetic field of the donated-books closet. I do have a terrible weakness for books, especially old books.

I only bought three, and they are in exceptionally nice condition -- well worth the $1.00 each I paid for them. They are:

• The Poems of Eugene Fields (with an ancient strip of paper marking the page with the poem, "A Valentine"
• Leaves of Grass (Carl Sandburg)
• The Works of Robert Louis Stevenson

And I suppose I should confess that I bought an old book at the library on Thursday of this week, also:

• American Notes by Rudyard Kipling

That's one box out, and four books in. Am I making progress in the ongoing battle against too much stuff? Not really, but at least the china cabinet is nice and clean.

How to Patch the Knees of Jeans

Repair a hole in fabric

If you have the time to do it, a neat patch on a damaged garment returns it to useful service, saves you money and gives you a nice glow of pride in your handwork.

Here are the basics of repairing a worn out knee with a patch that is hemmed on both sides. These same ten steps can be used to patch a hole in virtually any fabric item.

1. Following the threads in the denim, cut off the frazzled edges so that the hole is square or rectangular in shape.

2. From an old pair of jeans, cut a patch that is one inch larger on all sides than the hole you are repairing. The edges of the patch should follow the threads in the cloth. Cut a 1/4-inch square out of each corner of the patch.

3. Put the patch inside the jeans leg and center it beneath the hole. Be sure the right side of the fabric is showing through the hole. Pin it securely.

4. Baste the patch in place, running the stitches about 3/4 inch from the edge of the hole.

5. From the right side of the knee, make a 1/4-inch diagonal cut in each of the four corners of the hole. (See image below.)

6. On each side of the hole, fold the fabric to the inside. Baste the folded edge to the patch.

7. Turn the jeans inside out. Remove the basting stitches from the outside edge of the patch.

8. Fold the edge of the patch under on all four sides. Baste the folded edges to the jeans. (See image below.)

9. Press the patch smoothly, lifting the iron up and down rather than sliding it across the fabric.

10. Stitch the edges down on both sides by hand with a hemming stitch, or sew around all edges with your sewing machine. Remove all basting stitches.

When my children were young, I bought a lot of their jeans at garage sales. Often I found jeans that were in excellent condition except for holes in the knees. I bought them for a small price and patched them. It was a good way to save a lot of money.

Working the Election

Chores and Duties... Life in Christian County, Kentucky...

Sticker each voter received
at the election Tuesday

I read an article in the newspaper a month or two ago that said poll workers were needed, and I decided I'd try it. I filled out some very simple paperwork at the county clerk's office and was hired.

A few weeks ago, I went to a class about being a poll worker. A man from the Kentucky Secretary of State's office taught it. It was detail intensive, and he said many times, "We don't want to see your name in the newspaper."

The class frightened me a little. I was especially worried about getting the machines set up properly -- one of my responsibilities as an election judge. We were shown how to do it in the class, but we could only watch. There were too many in the class for us to actually practice doing it.

Yesterday I worked in an election for the first time ever. I didn't sleep very well the night before. I got up about 4:00 a.m. and arrived at the polling place at 5:15. The other workers arrived before long and we started getting things set up.

Carefully following the instruction sheets given to us at the class, the other judge and I opened the two machines for voting without too much trouble. One was an old-style machine with curtains that is being gradually phased out, and one was a new machine called an E-slate (pictured at right.)

At 6:00 a.m., we had several voters waiting to come in and several more came in before 8:00 a.m. Then the trickle of voters slowed down to a drip, and the day went very slowly. We had another small rush from about 5:00 p.m. until the doors were finally closed at 6:00 p.m.

The other judge and I had to set the machine for the correct party every time someone voted. Since it was so slow, we tried to get as many people as possible to use the new machine. We had plenty of time to show them how to twirl the dial to make a selection and then press "Enter" to record it.

It was a primary election for Kentucky state officials. The voter turnout all over the state was very low. Where I worked, we had about 13% of the registered voters in the precinct. It's too bad about the apathy, but I was thankful that it wasn't very busy since it was my first poll-worker experience.

I had a book of Willa Cather short stories with me, and I read "A Death in the Desert" and "Neighbour Rosicky" during the slow spells. (I had read them both before, but I enjoyed the re-read.)

The other judge (a man) also brought a book, and the clerk and the sheriff (two ladies) talked all day. They had been in the same class in high school about fifty years ago, and they had a lot to catch up on.

I was also nervous about shutting down the machines, running the tapes, removing the last seals, and filling out the reports, but we followed the directions, and I haven't heard anything yet about us not doing it right -- or seen our names in the newspaper!

After we got everything packed up at the voting place, the other judge and I had to take everything except the voting machines to the courthouse in Hopkinsville, turn it all in, and sign another paper.

We were told at the class that there would probably be a Democrat run-off election in June for the governor's race. However, a candidate (Steve Beshear) did get over 40% of the vote, so a run-off is not required, and the next election will be in November.



EAC - Become a poll worker. This link gives a contact number for poll worker information in all 50 U.S. states.

Technorati tags: poll worker, election, Kentucky politics

Wood Burners Alert

Chores and Duties...

If you have a wood stove or fireplace, now is the time to pick up any accessories you need for it. Lowes (at least our store in Hopkinsville, KY) has all their fireplace tools on sale for half-price right now -- tongs, shovels, pokers, ash buckets, etc. Spray bottles of stove glass window cleaner and masonry cleaner are also marked down.

I am waiting for them to mark down the chimney cleaning logs (which we burn periodically between manual chimney cleanings) and the boxes of fatwood (for starting fires), and when they do, I will stock up.

If you don't have a wood stove or a fireplace in your home, I hope you have some other form of non-electric heat to use if the electricity goes off. If not, your first prolonged power outage will probably convince you of your need for an alternative heat source. This is the time of year to look for bargains on all types of non-electric appliances.

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Shelving I Built

My Various Hobbies... Chores and Duties...

The new shelves in our shed, pictured above, are my handiwork. They're made with 2x4 uprights, 2x3 shelf supports, and 1/2 inch plywood, all held together by decking screws. I had the lumber yard rip the sheets of plywood in half for me.

I built the set of shelves on the left last summer, and I just got finished with the other set.

A real carpenter could probably have put these together in a few hours. I built the first set in one day, but it took me a couple of days to build the second set around the two windows. I had to contemplate a while between some of the construction steps. I also had to do some extra bracing.

Even though my techniques are rather primitive, I try to keep it neat and square and make it sturdy. I enjoyed doing the woodworking. That's why this post fits into the category of "my various hobbies."

I should add that if I had to use hand tools, I wouldn't be so enthusiastic. Power tools are wonderful.

The "chores and duties" part of this post pertains to the job of organizing all that junk, hauling it up the ladder and putting it in place. My extra canning jars are on the top shelf at right. (Yes, the entire shelf, except for the fishing poles.) I washed them all and repacked them before putting them up there. Oh, the virtue of it all.

At least the shed is nice and neat, even if my house became a wreck while I was working on the shed!

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Cornbread for Supper

Another Trip Down Memory Lane... Chores and Duties...

I usually try to make a well-balanced and fairly attractive meal for supper. Sometimes I just don't feel inspired though, and tonight was one of those times. I ended up fixing chili, cornbread, and sliced cucumbers. (Wow -- lots of "c" words there.)

As I was stirring up the cornbread, I realized that I've been baking cornbread for 45 years or more. I've probably baked over a thousand pans of it. (Mental math done while stirring suggests this is a reasonable estimate.)

Cornbread was one of the first things that I ever learned to bake. Mama always told me how good my cornbread was. I don't know if she was telling the truth or if she said that to keep me interested in baking. However, I did have a secret ingredient that I always added -- 1 teaspoon of vanilla.

Whenever we had cornbread, Mama heated a pan of milk. You could crumble a piece of corn bread into a cereal bowl, sprinkle it with a little salt and pepper, and pour a little hot milk over it. I liked it with just enough milk to soak the corn bread, but not to fill the bowl. I haven't eaten it that way for many years.

When we lived in Bolivia, the little Indian lady who did our laundry often told me, "Oh, Señora! Your cornbread is just like cake!" Dennis and I laughed about that because she had previously worked for an American named Steve. Steve was (in)famous for his cornbread and proud that he never used a recipe. We had tasted Steve's cornbread at a potluck dinner. It was a gummy, baked, cornmeal mush -- apparently made without baking powder.

If we have soup, Dennis always wants cornbread with it. He crumbles it over his bowl and it becomes one with the soup. Isaac, Keely and I all agree that we don't want to waste our cornbread or ruin our soup that way. We'll just have butter and maybe a little jelly or honey on ours, thank you.

When I was a little girl, I used the cornbread recipe on the back of the Quaker Cornmeal box. In about 1972, I bought a Fannie Farmer Cookbook, and ever since, I've used its recipe for cornbread. Here the Fannie Farmer recipe, doubled as I usually make it:

Corn Bread

Stir together:
1-1/2 cups corn meal
2 cups flour
2/3 cup sugar (or Splenda)
2 tablespoons baking powder
1 teaspoon salt

Mix in:
2 cups milk
2 eggs
1/4 cup canola oil

Spoon into two 8x8" baking pans. Bake about 20 minutes at 350°. Or bake in a 9x13" pan for 25-30 minutes or until bread tests done.

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Update: I've posted this recipe and another for Mexican Cornbread on my recipe blog.

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Catching Up

Chores and Duties...

When we hiked to Eagle Falls on Tuesday afternoon, it was very hot and humid. The trail is so steep that many of the steps are cut into the stone of the hillside. It was a strenuous trip, just as the pamphlet had warned, and did I mention that it was terribly hot? I had to stop frequently to catch my breath and cool down a little.

We climbed up and down and around and finally we came down into a little ravine with a tiny stream at the bottom of it. The shade was dense and the head of the ravine was very dark. At the bottom where we crossed the water, the air temperature was remarkably cool. I think the cool air and the little stream must have come from a small cave at the top of the ravine.

As we stood there refreshing ourselves in the delicious coolness, I told myself that I wanted to remember that place always -- that dark, green, wet, cool, beautiful, mossy, rocky crevice in the hillside.

I need to keep that place in my mind as a refuge and retreat where I can catch my breath and cool down when the trail gets too steep. I'm going to need it.

I'm having the after-trip blues tonight. So many things need to be done. As we pulled up to the house yesterday, the first thing I noticed was the tall grass. I'll start mowing tomorrow afternoon, when the worst of the day's heat has passed. I bought gas today for the mowers.

The laundry ... the house ... the yard ... the garden ... the paperwork ... the search for a job ... and so much more! I could whine on and on, but what good will that do? The only thing that will help is to get busy and get it done.

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How's Your Penmanship?

Chores and Duties... History and Old Stuff... And What I Think About It...

Today I finished filling out a job application I've been dithering over for several days. I'll hand it in tomorrow and wait to see if anything happens. I am not holding my breath.

I had to complete the application by hand, which made me realize how much my penmanship has deteriorated. My writing muscles have grown lazy.

I have a debit card so I don't write many checks anymore. In a month's time, I might address half a dozen envelopes. I have stickers for the return address. Beyond the checks, the envelopes, and the occasional greeting card with a note inside, I just don't write much.

My written communication is done mostly through the keyboard, these days. Even though I'm a member of the generation before the computer kids, I've made the transition. I've crossed over from analog to digital, so to speak.

The handwriting instruction I received in school came from the days of player-pianos and the Gibson Girl. Palmer penmanship was out of vogue in most schools by the 1950's and '60's, but it was still taught at Duff Valley District 4. I was never able to do those long lines of loops and strokes evenly and smoothly.

So you see, I regret that my handwriting is not what it once was and also that it has never been as nice as I wanted it to be.

I think I am my own harshest critic, though. At one job I had, we were always terribly rushed. We scrawled notes to another department in the worst handwriting that you can imagine. One of the girls in that department complimented me one day. "You have such good handwriting," she said. I laughed strangely because she had shocked me so. "No, really," she said. "I can always read it."

My standards may be unrealistically high, thanks to the Palmer Penmanship books of my childhood. It's function over form with handwriting. Legibility is the most important goal. What good would it do to write beautifully if no one could read it?

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Related:

• Rare Books on Calligraphy, Penmanship and Pen Art which includes Palmer's Penmanship Budget
• Tracing the Roots of Illegible Handwriting

• Inkwells and Fountain Pens (blog entry)
  

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Housecleaning Hints

Chores and Duties...

Over the years, I've read at least a hundred thousand hints about housecleaning. Most were quickly forgotten, but here are three that I actually remember and use.

1. Carry a laundry basket as you clean. You can quickly gather all the items that are in the wrong room and throw them in the basket. Then make everyone get their stuff out of the basket and put it away. In an emergency, you can quickly gather a lot of clutter in the basket and shove it into a closet to deal with later.

2. When in doubt, throw it out. This is a rule for the refrigerator, but it applies to all sorts of clutter. You could "throw it out" at the Goodwill. It doesn't always have to be thrown into the trash.

3. Start at the outside and work toward the middle. This is a rule for cleaning a spill without spreading it, but it's a good principle for attacking a room also.

If anyone else has any tried and true rules or principles to apply to cleaning house and controlling clutter, I would enjoy reading them.

Technorati tags:cleaning housecleaning hint hints clutter control
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Doing Things the Hard Way

Chores and Duties... The Rural Life...

Apple blossom in our yard

I have been on the computer enough today, but I haven't taken time to post anything on the blog. I apologize to my loyal readers. All five of you!

I've been working on my church's website. I wrote it about 7 or 8 years ago, and it hasn't had a major overhaul since then. I keep noticing when I look at it (especially with Firefox) that some things just aren't working right anymore.

So I started updating it today. It is a bit of a chore, but it needs to be done because it's not representing the church well. I will spend a few days tweaking it, and it will look much better, I hope.

Now that I have a template figured out, I just have to put the information and links for each page into it. It's tedious enough, but not really difficult.

I don't use a page editor. I don't like the bizarre HTML that most page editors seem to produce. I insist on doing it the proper and difficult way. (Ugh. I really am insane! ) I write the HTML and the CSS myself, using an excellent text editor called Editpad.

I've also been mowing the lawn the hard way today. That is, I've been push-mowing! The riding mower has a very flat tire. I think I might have run over a nail when I was mowing around our recently-built shed.

While I'm waiting for some help with the tire, the grass is growing rapidly. This time of the year, mowing must be done frequently to hold the wilderness at bay. So today, I got out both push mowers and changed the oil in them and got them started. When Isaac got home from school, I made him push one of them and I pushed the other for about an hour.

About a third of the lawn is still waiting for the first mowing of the year. We mow close to 1-1/2 acres, with the lawn and the roadsides. As you can imagine, I am hoping to get the riding mower going again before long.

Push mowing isn't painfully strenuous, but still, you can work up a sweat and you use both your upper and lower body. It's pretty good exercise, and that's about the best thing I can say for it.

Disgusting Refrigerator Stories

All In The Family... Another Trip Down Memory Lane... Chores and Duties...

I found myself in the mood to clean the refrigerator this afternoon. I took out the shelves and drawers and washed them in the sink. I threw out a few virtually empty salad dressings and pickle jars. I didn't find anything too nasty except for one lemon that was starting to go moldy. It didn't take too long and I'm glad it's done.

When I had my first school-teaching job, I shared a little basement apartment with my sister who was in high school. There wasn't any bus service in our county and we lived 32 miles out in the country, so it saved a lot of driving for Charlotte to live with me.

We cooked for ourselves, but we didn't usually have much in the refrigerator. Maybe that's why we didn't see a need to clean it out very often. One time, a little bowl of pork-and-beans sat in the back corner of a shelf for months.

One day I came home and Charlotte told me that she had defrosted and cleaned out the refrigerator. "You know that bowl of pork and beans?" she asked. "Those were peas."

Since then, I've tried to clean out the fridge more regularly.

When the kids were little, I went through a phase of using Hidden Vallen Ranch Dressing mixes. I would stir up the dressing and keep it in a jar in the refrigerator. The dressing was white with dark flecks in it and even though the jar was never labeled, we all knew what it was.

One evening as we were eating supper, Keely wanted some ranch dressing to dip her carrot sticks in, so she got out the jar and spooned some onto her plate. I didn't pay much attention to what she was doing until she made loud spitting and gagging noises.

"That dressing's spoiled, Mom!" she sputtered indignantly. Then I realized what she had got from the refrigerator -- not a jar of ranch dressing, but a jar of cold, congealed sausage gravy, left over from the biscuits and gravy I'd fixed as a treat for Dennis that morning.

After that shocking experience, Keely wouldn't taste sausage gravy for many, many years. The morning after Christmas this year, I fixed biscuits and gravy, and I noticed that she had some. I'm glad she has finally recovered.