Anecdotes, Antidotes, and Anodes

Watermelon Memories...Then and Now

Watermelon is a plant species in the family Cucurbitaceae, (gourd) a vine-like flowering plant originally  domesticated in West Africa

Its a staple summer fruit and a low-carb way to help satisfy a sweet tooth, especially on the Keto diet. Each 1/2 cup of diced watermelon has 5.4 grams of net carbs. It's also an acceptable choice when dieting because of its high water content. 

But, we aren't here to talk about the health benefits or from where watermelons originated, we're here to talk about who wins a watermelon growing contest. 

First we'll reminisce about the time a strange looking vine started growing in our beautiful, well-manicured lawn in Bartlesville, Oklahoma. 

I'm not sure exactly how old Brooke was when the above photos were taken, but judging by the missing front teeth, I'm thinking she's in about the first grade.  It all started when we noticed a strange looking plant growing in the middle of our front yard. There had been lots of rain, so the yard couldn't be mowed until things dried out. By this time, the 'vine-looking' thing had grown to enormous proportions. I mean we're talking 'Jumanji, Welcome to the Jungle,' could have been filmed here. 

Upon closer inspection, we realized that what we had growing were watermelon vines and were perplexed as to how this might have happened.

Enter: Brooke.

She explained that one evening after enjoying a picnic in the backyard, she saved some watermelon seeds and planted them. 

IN. THE. MIDDLE. OF. THE. FRONT. YARD!

So, for the entire summer our front yard was enveloped with a healthy, hearty jungle of vines. Watermelon vines. Everywhere. I think they may have even 'vined-up' the tree.

Looking back, I'm surprised the Friendly Neighborhood Keep Your Lawn Looking Nice and Neat Committee didn't come knocking on our front door. Of course, they would have needed machetes in hand to get there. 

Lo and behold, that six-year old harvested a crop of watermelon as documented with the above photos depicting two of them.  

Who knew that a few years later that little watermelon-seed-planting-munchkin would graduate with a double major in Landscape Architecture and Landscape Contracting from Oklahoma State University and earned a Masters Degree from Oklahoma University in Urban Architectural Studies..  She also owns Florascape Designs, a landscape design company in Bartlesville. I'm interested in knowing how many of her designs might contain a watermelon feature.

This is where you just have to trust me. I promise the story above and the photos and stories below will connect at some point. Somewhere. 

There is a common denominator: Watermelons

Rewind several decades.

I was about 10 years old and Cousin Randy was a few weeks old. Notice the smile on my face !  I had a real live baby doll to play with. Dress up. And. Feed.

I was not into the diaper changing bit. 

I was probably 14 and Cousin Randy was 4. He was still a lot of fun but harder to 'control.'

And yes, that's a real live aluminum Christmas tree.We had just finished putting it together and were getting ready to decorate it. 

Now, Fast-Forward several decades . . . to this weekend. 

Watermelons are still the topic of discussion. Stay with me. 

Cousin Randy is now older than I am.  Here we are on Friday at Two Rivers Winery with some grape juice to sample. 

He came over that big hill that's in the middle of Colorado by way of Monarch Pass to visit. 

It was a weekend full of laughs and reminiscing and comparing watermelons as chronicled with the two video clips below. 

 

 

So there. I win. He said so.

Probably because of my learning experience umpteen years ago when I was tutored by a little toothless first-grader on how to grown watermelons.

See. I told you there was a convoluted connection with all this. 

Stella and PeekaBoo saying good-bye to Cousin Randy after a wonderful weekend of making more watermelon memories. 

Morals of this story . . .

Cousins are those childhood playmates who grow up to be forever friends.

AND. . .

Never doubt the horticulture abilities of a six-year old named Brooke. 

 

 

 

 

 

Stella and PeekaBoo

Entertainment at our house these days . . .

When COVID and a broken knee keep you home . . . 

This is what you do.

Grab a cup of coffee and enjoy.  Who needs Netflix?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Treasures from PeekaBoo

Below are just a few of the treasures that Peeka has bestowed upon us the past few days. 

Not exactly sure what kind of snake this was . . .
It really didn't matter.
A snake is a snake is a snake.
Especially when one steps on it and it's still slithering on the rug in your house. 

 

Peeka came running in with something that looked like a cigar sticking out the side of her mouth.
Except it wasn't a cigar.
Upon closer inspection, we determined it was that plastic wrapper that she ate two days ago.
Hans gave her the plastic wrapper from a package of hamburger to LICK.
Evidently, she didn't quite comprehend that she was only to LICK it. 
Consequently, she passed it in the form of a poop-covered spiral cigar. 

Yup. It's a bird.
When I first realized she had a bird, it was flapping in her mouth.
Ever tried to chase down a puppy that has a live bird in its mouth?
Well, you can't catch a puppy that has a live bird in its mouth, especially if the person chasing that puppy has a broken leg.
Needless to say, the bird didn't make it. 

This would be a pile of poop.
A pile of dried poop. 
Instead of PeekaBoo, we are now calling her PeekaPoop.
She is obsessed with dried poop. 
We were able to confiscate this pile before she devoured it.
Evidently, according to Google, some puppies like to eat dried poop.
We just happen to have one of those puppies. 
At some point, Google says puppies stop eating dried poop. 

ADHD . . . to be continued

 

I'm always organizing and re-organizing 'stuff.'  Especially paper. I think it's called, "Taming the Paper Trail." My desk is a vertical file of everything paper. From bank statements to Medicare reports, to vet bills, to any kind of bills for that matter, to receipts, and on and on. I do have cute little file folders to put all this in. I don't like sitting and filing. Yes, I know I could go paperless, but that requires remembering about forty-seven different passwords. Then there's the catalog issue. And each catalog must be perused through just to see what's inside before I trash it or file it.  I have reduced the amount of catalogs I receive by using Catalog Choice and opting out. There is also Direct Marketing Association's (DMA) Mail Preference Service. It is suggested to set aside a few minutes each day to deal with the mail, preferable as soon as it's brought inside. That it helps to have a designated spot where I can sort the mail. I was visiting with a dear friend this week about needing to sit down and file all these pieces of paper/mail.  Know what she said? She said she just throws it away. Her designated spot is by the trash can and she trashes it. All of it. How do you do that? 

Speaking of catalogs, the ones I keep . . . they're kept in a cute little wicker basket . . . filed in ABC order. (See photo)

Then there's the projects that involve photographs. Oh don't get me started on how to organize photographs, hundreds of them,  because I've tried any number of ways. Right now I'm in the middle of creating a Shutterfly photo album that I started two years ago for a couple who was married in 2002. Don't judge me. So, since my knee is broken I decided this would be an opportune time to try to finish it. My dining room table is covered with photos and memorabilia that need to be scanned. I've organized these photos so well that the rehearsal dinner photos have gone missing. How does that happen?

Then there's what the experts call Time Management Issues which is a common effect of ADHD. I frequently lose track of time, miss deadlines, procrastinate, underestimate how much time I need for tasks, and find myself doing things in the wrong order. This is because I do the things that are more fun FIRST and spend inordinate amounts of time doing them. I think this is known as “hyperfocusing” and nothing else gets done.

One suggestion, of which there are many is to use a timer. I try to allot myself limited amounts of time for each task and use a timer to alert me when my time is up. For longer tasks, I set the timer to go off at regular intervals keeping me productive and aware of how much time is going by. I might start a project in the morning, get so involved in it and look up at the clock and it's 3:00 p.m.  How does that happen?

When I first started using the 'timer idea,' I kept going to the oven to pull out whatever was in there baking  But, there was nothing there. 

Speaking of timers, mine of going off . . . meaning I've spent enough time on this post and I need to move onto something else. 

Now, where is my list of things to do today?

. . .  ADHD . . . to be continued. 

 

 

. . . And Now the Rest of the Story

 

There have been several inquiries as to how I broke my knee (Fibular Head) and probably damaged the Meniscus, to what extent will be determined at a later date. 

Some stories begin with, "Once Upon a Time . . . 

This story begins with, "You Ain't Gonna Believe This $h!+ . . .

. . . it all started by winning a Gift Certificate for a Tandem Hang Gliding Session. 

The moment we were airborne, my experienced, professional partner let me know we were in trouble. The right wing kept wanting to drop, so he had to steer about 50% to the opposite side just to keep the glider going straight. I'm hearing all this through my headset as I wouldn't have had the foggiest idea about what was going on. I mean the scenery up there was breathtaking. 

We quickly hooked a thermal, released, and climbed up to an altitude of about 10,000 feet by making left turns only.  He promised me that safety was in altitude. Not my idea of being safe, I mean, shouldn't t we be trying to get down from here? My idea of safety was being on the ground, and we didn't seem to be headed in that direction. At least not just yet. 

Okay. Whatever you say. Once up that high, we proceeded to do a number of maneuvers to keep flying. We could turn left with a decent amount of control and no issues. We could also fly straight if he applied a generous amount of left input. Keep in mind, I have no idea what's going on except what he's telling me. 

Right turns stalled the glider every time, so he picked a field that would give us ample room from a left-hand approach and we slowly started boating down. 

As we turned onto a final approach, he assured me we were home free. But, as soon as we entered the ground effect, the right wing stalled and we bit the dust. Hard. 

Now you know . . .

. . . the rest of the story.

AND, it you believe that . . .  I have some ocean front property here at the house that I will sell you.

The next story begins like this . . . 

It was the Perfect Storm:

Steep hill

Wet grass 

Slick Chucks on my feet. (Yes. I had shoes on this particular day.)

PeekaBook on a leash on my left (PeekaBoo weighs 43 pounds.)

Stella on a leash on my right (Stella weighs 70 pounds,)

Dog running loose at the bottom of this steep hill. . . . way down there.

Have I mentioned it was a very steep hill?

Stella bolted to where the other dog was, and I hung on for dear life.

 A.L..L.   T.H.E.   W.A.Y   D.O.W.N.  T.H.E.   H.I.L.L. 

The very steep hill. 

(No I didn't let go of the leash for all of you who have been kind enough with that suggestion or asked why I didn't. Yes. I have water skied. Yes I know to let go of the rope once the fall begins so the boat doesn't drag me across the lake and I drown. But, I wasn't water skiing.)

When the slack went out of the leash, I went airborne. We were probably flying down that hill, that very steep hill, at about 30 miles per hour. 

 I hurtled forward, tried to dig in my slippery Chucks, and hit the ground with a thud. My right leg extended out in front of me. My left leg did some kind of loopty-loo bend behind me not normal to the human body. The minute I hit, I heard two loud pops. The pain shot up through my armpits, ricocheted off my ears, and out the top of my pointy little head. 

PeekaBoo did a great job of keeping up and was probably thinking, "Wow, I've never seen her move so fast."

Once we came to a grinding halt at the bottom of that steep hill and the world stopped spinning, I knew I was hurt. 

The hill I was on (the steep one) was actually a pond dam and Hans was just over the way with his employees fishing. That's where I was headed when all this happened.

I yelled. He sauntered over not knowing what had just happened.

The first thing he said, "Why is your nose bleeding, and why are you on the ground?"

Yup. I hit so hard it caused my nose to bleed. My nose was the least of my worries. 

He took the dogs. I hobbled back to our room not knowing I was walking with a broken knee.

We made it back to Grand Junction to Docs on Call and the rest is history.

And now you know . . . 

. . . the rest of the story. It’s your choice as to which one you choose to believe  

 

Photo: Smoky Sunset over the Colorado National Monument.
Sunday, August 23, 2020
Smoke is from the Pine Gulch Fire, the second largest in Colorado history.
Monday evening the fire was mapped at 129, 715 acres and 44% contained. 
It is about 18 miles north of Grand Junction in the Bookcliffs.

 

I Am Smiling !

 

When there is a forest fire close enough to blow dust and ashes into the house, and one is from Okrahoma and shoes don't adorn her feet very often most of the time, this is what happens. 

The other thing that happens is people like to take my picture and tell me to smile which is not a safe thing to do these days. 

Except now I can't catch him. 

The amazing unconditional love of a dog !  

If you "biggen' the picture, you can see Stella is licking the brace. 

Stella is just letting PeekaBoo know to be gentle and not to get too close. 

No matter where I go, they go with me. 

For FIVE days, I wore the brace that did not allow me to bend my leg. That was a pain in the . . .

leg. 

Actually, it was a pain in my back. 

On  Wednesday, I was fitted with this Bionic Woman super-duper fancy endorsed by AAA brace which allows me a slight bend. The world is at my fingertips now. I can run faster and jump higher. Not. But, it is amazing the difference being able to bend just a smidgen makes in my mobility. Plus, I'm able to put a little weight on my leg. Just a little. 

We'll end with this little giggle:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Mon Funday - Looking Out My Front Door

Just got home from Illinois, lock the front door, oh boy!
Got to sit down, take a rest on the porch.
Imagination sets in, pretty soon I'm singin',

Doo, doo, doo, Lookin' out my back door.

There's a giant doing cartwheels, a statue wearin' high heels.
Look at all the happy creatures dancing on the lawn.
A dinosaur Victrola list'ning to Buck Owens.

Doo, doo, doo, Lookin' out my back door.

Tambourines and elephants are playing in the band.
Won't you take a ride on the flyin' spoon?
Doo, doo doo.
Wond'rous apparition provided by magician.

Doo, doo, doo, Lookin' out my back door.

Tambourines and elephants are playing in the band.
Won't you take a ride on the flyin' spoon?
Doo, doo doo.
Bother me tomorrow, today, I'll buy no sorrows.

Doo, doo, doo, Lookin' out my back door.

Forward troubles Illinois, lock the front door, oh boy!
Look at all the happy creatures dancing on the lawn.
Bother me tomorrow, today, I'll buy no sorrows.

Doo, doo, doo, Lookin' out my back door.

******************************************

Front door ???   Back door ???

The topic for today's Fun Monday is "Our Front Door."

Doo, doo, doo, Lookin' out my front door.

 

Related articles

Fun Monday or Whatever Day It Is: Favorite Food

Fun Monday aka: Mon Funday in My Lysdexic Brain

Blowing Bubbles

So, what do two 60+ year-old people do at 7:30 on a Monday morning when it's 5 degrees outside ?

They blow bubbles !

 

 Saw the idea posted on Facebook this morning, so I was inspired to try it. 

Obviously, our bubbles weren't nearly as amazing as these, but we did have fun.

My fingers were freezing.  I can't imagine what HansMan's felt like. Just hope he didn't get frost bite.

There must be several factors involved to make this work as in the related article,  including the formula for making bubbles, temperature, and humidity . . .

Nevertheless, we made a memory and it was fun.

And that's The Yin and The Yang of it.

You did see the Yin and Yang . . . didn't you ?

Related articles

Mother and Son Blow Bubbles in Freezing Cold and Discover Something Beautiful

Observations . . .

It has become apparent to me that:

With either a pulled muscle and/ or cartliage pulled away from a rib/OR perhaps having cracked a rib that:

1) coughing is almost next to impossible 

2) sneezing is totally absolutely unequivocally without a doubt, out of the question

3)   the word hiccup is no longer in my vocabulary and do not whisper the word around me

4)  hollering for the dogs to come inside uses muscles in my rib-cage area I never realized were there.

5) people look at me as if I  had two heads when they ask how me how I did ' it,' and I tell them I was coughing. 

6)  they would be more apt to believe me if I told them I was  rappelling off a mountain side.

7  it's easier to use a candle snifter than trying to blow out the candles

8  it is easier to turn the steering wheel to the left than to the right

9  there is no way is it possible to vacumn . . . or dust. . . or change the sheets . . . or do the laundry . . .or basically do ANY type of housework

10)   I won't being doing "PLANK" for awhile

11)  using a heating pad at night masks the intensity of my hot flashes

12)  slicing off part of my pointer finger tends to distract me from thinking about the pain in my side

13 )  my tetnus shot was up to date;  that meant one less stick

14)  I am obssessed with playing with the stitches that are protruding from that finger

15)  they feel like those confused eyebrows that grow out of my chin

16)  how much I use my left hand, especially the pointer finger on that hand

17)  pain pills keep me awake all night

18)  my heart now beats in the end of my finger

19)  washing dishes is out of the question (the doctor said so for at least 24 hours  48 hours 1 week forever)  (See #9)

20)  it's foggy, raining, cold . . .the dogs have been fed . . . I'm going back to bed to read "Orange is the New Black" . . .

. . . and eat watermelon  . . . and make Ree's Tomato Sherried Soup . . . please take note:  That is a full bottle of sherry !  "Yes, I cook with sherry.  Sometimes I even put it in the food." 

 

Related articles

So, How's Your Day ?

Rocky Mountain Sunset

Without a doubt, some of the most spectacular sunsets happen here.

Where ?

In the Rocky Mountains . . . Colorado . . . Grand Junction . . . more specifically . . . in my backyard.

Obviously, it was difficult to choose just a few, so here are about 2,000 photos (more or less, mostly less)  of our sunset that occurred on Thursday, May 9. 2013.

You will see: 
Mt. Garfield, Colorado National Monument, Utah, The Bookcliffs, The Grand Mesa, inside the neighbor's kitchen window . . .

 

It was a this point that my neighbor yelled at me from across the street after she saw this cloud just above and to the right of Mt. Garfield.

This is how that conversation went. (Please keep in mind, I'm up on a hill about 4 acres away.)

Her:  Hey, Kathy !

Me:  Wot ?  (That Okie for 'what.')

Her:  Is that a tornado ?

Me:  Yes.  Bring the car and let's chase it.

Silence

I guess she may still be in her basement.

Dear Jodi:  I was just kidding.