SUNNY SIDE UP

Okay, let me say once more that I don't like summer. I don't like the heat. But in spite of that, articles I've been reading have prompted me to put my dislikes aside, and encouraged me to soak up a bit of sun. These articles are telling us that Americans have become so cautious about getting any sun (loading up on sunscreen, or...like me....just staying out of it) that our bodies are lacking in Vitamin D. "Experts" are now recommending that we get 10-15 minutes of pure, unadulterated sunlight on our bodies 3-4 times a week. So, motivated my wanting better health...and more likely because I think my arms would look better in sleeveless clothing if they had a little color on them...I purchased a lawn chair this past weekend.

Today was a beautiful day to begin getting some rays. The temperature gauge read 72, and there was a light breeze blowing. Even tho it is noon, and a bad time to be sunning, it's not that hot yet. I made myself a cup of cranberry tea, and put on some pjs....shorts and a tank top. I'm hoping that if the Fedex guy pulls into my driveway while I'm out there, he won't KNOW that they are pjs. I have shorts somewhere. Somewhere.

I set up the chair, hoping that it won't collapse while I'm climbing onto it. Mind you, this is not some lovely wooden chaise with big thick padded pillows....we're talking plastic weavings on a metal frame. Cheap. I manage to get situated, stretch out, cup of tea balanced on my stomach. Ahhhhh. Ya know, the sun actually feels kinda good. I can't remember the last time I purposely laid out in the sun. Probably on a trip to Hawaii. It's hot, but not too hot, and I think I can easily manage 10 minutes of this.

I finish my tea and go inside to get a glass of ice water. I am surprised to see that 15 minutes have passed. Why, I haven't even broken a sweat. Even tho my 15 minutes of required time has elapsed, I've got to give some time to the backside of me, or...should I get some color....I would be forced to let folks only see the darker "front" of me...not the pasty white "back" of me.

Fifteen minutes later I have finished exposing my backside. I must say, all in all, it was a rather pleasant experience. Perhaps doing something healthy won't be so painful after all. (Unless, of course, I experience a sunburn.) I can hear at least two of my sisters laughing...they are the ones who LOVE the sun....LOVE the heat....the two who think I am nuts for not glorying in it the way they do. I will never get to that stage, but for now I'm willing to give getting a few rays a chance.

ON HAVING CHILDREN

The gals on The View this morning were talking about having/not having children. Apparently more and more people are deciding not to have kids these days, and the general consensus is that these people are more "selfish" than those who have chosen to have kids.

If you don't already know it, I don't have children. I helped raise two teenage boys with my previous husband, tho I use the term "raised" rather generally. These boys were allowed to raise themselves, with no input allowed from me, as daddy didn't ever want them to choose to live with mom instead of him. Discipline was handed out on rare occasions, when the act screamed for parental intervention, but most of the time nothing they did was bad enough for corrective measures to be taken (in their father's opinion). The oldest of these boys is now 45, and still behaving like a spoiled teenager. The other is 42, and the total opposite of his brother. He is an excellent example for someone becoming a fine, responsible adult, in spite of the people who brought him up.

I have never felt the urge to become a mom. Never. I don't know why. It's not something I can remember ever wanting to do. I had lots of baby dolls, and played with them constantly. It just didn't translate into adult life. I don't THINK I'm particularly selfish. I don't spend lots of monies on toys for myself, or traveling....both suggestions as reasons not to have children. I see myself now as feeling like a grandparent....it's wonderful to be around the kiddies for a bit, but great to send them home with the folks.

I absolutely adore my favorite 12-year-old, and she has tugged at my heart strings in ways that must somewhat mimic what a mother feels for her child.....tho I'm sure on a much lesser scale. Don't want to offend any moms out there! But I love her....I care about what happens to her...and being around her is one of my greatest joys. She is this amazing person and I love watching her evolve into the person she's meant to be. So, I guess I'm not totally without a maternal feeling or two.

Maybe if I'd met Michael first, and we'd married when we were young, we'd have kids. I'm sure of it. A houseful probably. So there you go. I just didn't meet the right man at the right time. And how fortunate for me that I don't miss having children, and neither does he.

MY SMILE IS MELTING

Well, summer is finally here. Much as I hoped it wouldn't, it has shown up. With a vengeance. I live in Washington State. On the coast. That is supposed to assure me summers of breezy indifference...sometimes warm, lots of cool, pleasant nearly always. Fog in the early mornings. Fog in the evenings to cool down a too-hot day. Well, I'm praying for that evening fog right now. It is 10:30 in the morning, and the temperature is at 82. This is NOT supposed to happen here. I don't have air conditioning. We're not supposed to need anything like that living where I live. But if this "global warming" continues, we will seriously have to consider doing something about it. Like moving to Alaska.

I am not a fan of summer....most of you know that about me. But I will admit to one thing I enjoy that's only available in summer: Summer fruit. Oh, the delights of rainier and Bing cherries! There are tubs of them in my house right now, and we don't even mind the cost for this once-a-year treat. Also on my counter is a honeydew melon....the fragrance wafting through the entire house. At no other time of year can you get them RIPE enough to offer up this aroma. We are also enjoying cantaloupe, chilled from the fridge, cut into tasty little nuggets of goodness. Haven't been brave enough to try a watermelon yet....they don't offer up a telltale scent of ripeness like the other melons, and so we'll hold off a bit before buying one.

Soon the blueberries will be ripe. Nothing like gathering a bowlful for breakfast each morning, to eat plain or on top of your Fiber One. They are SO GOOD....and so good for you (just ask Cole). We have three pretty good sized plants, and three baby ones that the deer (for some reason or another) have left alone this growing season. We are thinking of putting our weedy garden space into blueberry plants, but would like to acquire larger ones instead of this gallon-sized version that takes years to produce enough fruit to notice.

Hey...I detect a breeze outside. That's a good sign. Maybe it won't get to the 95 degrees that they are threatening us with today.

One can hope.

P.S. At 3:00...it's 95 out. I got a new dress delivered by mail. I had to let it cool off before I could try it on....the fabric was HOT! Poor mailman!

CAUTION: SENTIMENTAL BLATHERING BELOW

Sunday Scribblings prompt for this week: Slippery

What is more slippery than time? Last weekend we celebrated my brother's birthday. 53 years ago he was born....I can remember it like it was yesterday. Mostly because I was sent to stay with the O'Leary's during Mom's "confinement", and was given firecrackers to play with (I was not quite 6), and had to sleep in a bed with spiders (I was told they wouldn't hurt me). Naturally I am terrified of them to this day.

My one and only auntie was at the party. Looking more like my mom, her sister, than ever. She is the only aunt I have left. She will be 86 next month. Soon she will slip away, as my mother did nearly 4 (!!!) years ago. One can't help but wonder where the years have gone when I can glance from my auntie, the oldest member of our family....to my great-nephew Ethan who, at not quite 4 mos., is the youngest member of our tribe.

I can remember when I was the age of my nieces, and the family would be gathered at the grandparents' for Father's Day or Christmas. My Mom and aunts would be in the kitchen, and there would be talking and laughter, and I longed to be a part of that group, that female gathering...but their conversation would always stop...or change... when I entered the room. I was not included....too young....even in my 20's.

Now my sisters and I are that group, and I wonder if their daughters have any desire to join us in our kitchen gatherings....to share the laughter and the secrets. I think they must, for they hang with us for a bit. I wonder if they know how much joy we get from their company? I wonder if they know how important they are to us, and how much we love them.?

I hope I have enough time left to share real moments with the "great" nephews and nieces. Little Ethan, Garrett, and Emma won't remember that auntie tickled their tummies or bounced them on her knee. Cole, at 2 1/2, won't remember that his auntie taught him to say "antioxidants" at this party while he was stuffing his face with blueberries. And Zack won't recall how his auntie laughed at his antics and admired how smart he is.

Is it a sign of old age that my reveries are about times with my family? That being with them and enjoying our bond and each other's company is one of the biggest joys of my life? We've all heard the saying that when you reach the end of your life, you won't regret that you didn't spend more hours/time working, etc., but instead, will wish for more time with your family and loved ones. Well, before all my time slips away, I hope I have many more years...and many more memories...with this family that I love so much.

SENTIMENTAL OLE ME

I'm cleaning out drawers today....mostly because they won't shut.

When I got to the jewelry section, I found a double strand of big "plastic" pearls my Mom had given me for my 16th birthday. It was the era of Jackie Kennedy, and those type of pearls were popular. I'm sure I wore them then....and I haven't since.

This isn't the first time I've tried to toss them out. I always change my mind and keep them. I put them back this time too.

Why is it so hard to get rid of our stuff?

LITTLE JARS ALL IN A ROW

My siblings and I grew up on some of the most fertile soil known in Thurston County. Our five acres contained not only various species of evergreens, but also lilac trees, peach trees, transparent apples, the best Gravenstein apples in the world, and Italian plum trees. They all produced an amazing bounty every year, with friends and family reaping the benefits of our prolific fruit trees. The peach trees no longer exist, but when we were young, there were boxes of golden fruit. We kids liked playing with the sticky balls of amber-colored sap that would appear on the trunk and branches. We must have had hotter summers then, for you would be hard pressed to find a peach tree anywhere in Thurston Co. these days.

The ditches that bordered our front lawn were filled with little wild blackberries....those special ones so highly prized...and on summer afternoons we'd take our bowls out to collect a snack, and sprinkle them with sugar.

My father grew an amazing garden, and was into organic gardening years and years before it was ever popular. His garden was a showplace...not a weed in sight. Summer evenings after supper he could always be found out in the garden....hoeing rows of green beans, cabbages, squash, onions, and potatoes. There were carrots, beets, cauliflower, corn and broccoli. You name it, he grew it. And BIG. The size of the produce was amazing. Some of his cabbages could be cut up and given to four different families. There were also strawberries and rows of raspberries. On Saturday mornings, when the raspberries were ripe, we'd go out and pick them, and Mom would take us in to Grandpa's grocery store, and he'd buy our berries for 5 cents a pint. Dad also grew rhubarb, and we loved breaking off a stick, dipping the end in a bowl of sugar, and munching away.

Needless to say, with a family of 7, Mom did a lot of canning. Every August there would be weeks of washing jars, cleaning fruit, cutting and packing, and making syrup. Of course canning season always hit during the hottest time of the year, so the kitchen was a hot, steamy, muggy place to be. Green beans and peaches found themselves put into jars, while corn and applesauce were packed in paper cartons made for the purpose, and put into the freezer. Cucumbers were made into pickles...dill and bread 'n butter. Beets were canned...plain and pickled. And there were jars and jars of jam. All these pretty jars were sent out to shelves in "the fruit room."

Ah, now that was a place. Tucked into a corner of the (extremely messy, crowded, and cobwebby) garage (which was more like storage and a work space for Dad), dark and cold, was the fruit room. An enclosed room, with shelves along two of the walls (I think)...and bins for the potatoes, onions, and squash. I always thought it was kind of a scary place, for we'd be sent out in the dark of a winter evening to get a jar of this or that for supper, and you had to stumble through the cluttered, unlit garage area (I know there were spiders everywhere just waiting to attack), go into the fruit room (creaaakkkk) and find the chain hanging from the ceiling that would turn on the dim little bulb by which you'd find the jar you were looking for....and hopefully no spiders.

I always looked forward to the time when I would be able to do the canning for my family. Aside from my mother's wonderful example, I thought it rather romantic to be able to set aside in store, food for my family. Tho I know there is nothing romantic about slaving in a hot, steamy kitchen all day....I was enamored with a passage in my favorite book, "Little Women" , where Meg, as a young wife, decided to surprise her husband with pretty little pots of jam. She buys the pots, the fruit, makes the jam...and after a hot, sweaty afternoon, hubby returns home to find his wife in tears because the jam won't jell. Sniff. I wanted to make jam for my husband. I thought it would show him how much I loved him.

One year I canned everything that I could get my hands on. Even crabapples. Salmon. Tuna. Pickled green beans. I must have been insane. I made jam from anything and everything. Have you ever had fireweed jelly? Well, it's wonderful. It involves picking an awful lot of fireweed blossoms, but it's quite delicious, and is this wonderful shade of ruby pink. I haven't made that in years. We also decided to make fruited vodka...peaches covered with vodka and sugar and I'm not sure what else, in a glass bottle for a month or more. I don't remember what we did with the vodka, but the peaches were a tremendous hit with my husband's family.

Nowadays I do can peaches and pears, and I make a little jam. This past weekend I made strawberry. The strawberries from Spooner's this year are AMAZING. Big, red, and the sweetest flavor I've ever tasted. I guess our cool, dry weather agrees with them. I will do raspberry jam when they are in season, but that's it. I've given up my romantic notions of putting food aside for my family, and am taking the easy way out. The shelves of my local grocer.

SMILE.....I'M NOT THAT WEIRD

The Sunday Scribblings prompt for this week: Eccentricity.
Wikkipedia defines eccentricity as odd or unusual behavior, as opposed to being normal. I'm not sure I have any eccentric behaviors. Well....not many. Let's see.

I have to have my rug vacuumed in one direction....it drives me crazy otherwise. But Michael says that's normal. I USED to insist on vacuuming before bed...I couldn't rest easy if my floors looked "messed up." Now THAT might be eccentric. But I no longer do that.

The last thing I have to do before getting in bed is....pee. If I pee, and then head to the kitchen for water, or close the dining room blinds, I have to go back and pee again. Even if it's only been 2 minutes. It has to be the last...very last...thing I do. So okay...that's odd. I guess.

I'm thinking, but I'm not coming up with anything. I asked Michael, but he says I'm the most normal person he's ever met. Hmmm. I'm reading that as "boring." Maybe I should work on that. I think a little eccentricity would be nice.

I wonder if I'm just too close to the subject to be objective. After all, we are often blind to our own "faults"...and maybe some of you out there could give me a long list of my weird behaviors. If so, please share!