Last Year's Birthday Dinner

A Blasphemous Confession

I know I will take a lot of criticism for the following blog, but as they say, confession is good for the soul. There are a couple of confessions that follow. Maybe they will not be earth-shattering to you, but educators will understand my shame.

Those of you who know me know that my life has taken a new and better direction since I developed a goal-setting program for my students. I know on the surface "goal-setting" sounds like another one of those goofy, fads that educators so willingly start only to have it flop, as so many do. My program is not gimmicky. It simply shows students how to set and achieve thier goals for the pure joy of achieving goals. There are no "rewards" for reaching a goal, other that delicious feeling of reaching the goal. The program has been successful beyond my wildest dreams and gave me a whole "lease" on my teaching life. I was able to teach kids to become self-motivated, and that had always been my dream; for kids to learn to love to learn.

So, where are the confessions, you ask? Here is one of them; not all kids buy it. Not all kids want to learn, or care about learning, and Mother Teresa (who we now know had her own struggles) probably couldn't reach them, and believe me, I ain't no Mother Teresa.

The joke among teachers about the "No Child Left Behind" program has been, "What about the kids who don't want to come?" Here is one of the hardest thing for me to admit, I can't, despite all my best efforts, teach every child who comes to my class to love to learn and to be self-motivated. One of my goals has been that I must let them go. (LIG)

What? What kind of cruel harpy am I? After 30 years I realize that some kids, for whatever reason, don't care about learning. They firmly believe that they will be a rock star, movie star, television star, or lottery winner. They will be so rich that education won't be important. Yea, good luck. Studies have shown that nearly 20% of all kids believe that. However, and here I must make a hugely important distinction; not all kids care about grades, which is very, very different from not wanting to learn. Not caring about grades is not really so horribly bad. Grades are not indicative of what a child has learned.

Here is my other confession, I don't care about grades either. As I just said, grades are not indicative of what a child has learned. I made it my policy nearly 20 years ago that any child who wanted staright A's could get them. I made high grades something within every child's reach. (Yes, it can be done without compromise, believe me.) Why? Because for many parents grades are monumentally important. They don't think, "My child GOT a 'C'", they think "My child IS a 'C', " and nothing, nothing can convince them otherwise. I knew years ago that grades were a very poor indicator of the knowledge that a child acquired. Grades don't work.

So here is the last part of my confession; if I have made every effort to see that getting high grades is attainable for ALL students and if they do not choose to take advantage of it, then I have to allow them to do so. The big picture is what has the child learned, not what grades a child recieves, or how well he or she performs on a test.

I have been a real hypocrite about this. I have told students I wouldn't chase them around about getting their work done and turned in, and yet I have. "Where is your work?" I will ask. It becomes a game that I always lose, and as long as I play the game I will always lose. Kids have much more energy and stamina than I do. So, am I saying that I am allowing children to fail? NO! I am allowing kids gets to recieve the bad grades they have earned. They have made that choice. BIG, big difference.

So there it is folks; if students don't turn in their work they get (stupid, meaningless) bad grades, and I declare here that I must let that go.

Nora's Barn

I wish I could show you a picture of our barn. * Yes, we have an actual barn. The owner's before us kept horses in it. The main resident, and Princess of the barn, is Nora the cat, whom I inherited from my daughter. Nora does not know she is a cat. I'm not sure just what she thinks she is but whatever it is, is pretty darn special.

Nora, although clawless, has decimated any mice that would dare to trod in her domain. She must have some kind of truce with the scorpions and black widow spiders though. I am not merciful if I find them. They are sent to their end swiftly. They may live in the barn, but I own the barn.

The truth of the matter is that I love the barn. It used to be horribly hot but now that it has been re-roofed and is in the shade nearly the entire day, it holds a temperature that is always pleasant. Gary hates the way it smells, but I love it. It smells like wood, dirt, cat, dust, bugs, paper, and lots of old junk. We used to have a fair collection of deceased vacuum cleaners out there, too. I have no idea why Gary put them in the barn because I told him directly that the barn would not heal them and make them new and young and frisky.

The barn is never moldy either because we are so dry here. It doesn't have the creepy dampness of a basement or attic. It has an aliveness. It is patiently waiting to be cleaned. Right now I could probably toss most everything, except Nora, the Barn Princess and it could be a work area, except that I like that it is my place.

I like taking Nora's breakfast and dinner to her and we talk about her day. She has quite a vocabulary and is never bored, or boring. I brush her, which she likes sometimes, and other times not at all. That is her prerogative. Lately she goes nose-to-nose with the beagles as they watch her through the baby gate that is at the door. They are not allowed in the barn. They accept the rule philosophically, as dogs do. Nora, does not mock them which makes the no-dog rule at least tolerable.

As Robert Frost said, I will be telling this with a sigh, but I know I will clean the junk out of the barn and perhaps have to share the barn with Gary, and that would only be fair. I will still love my barn, only a little differently.

Barns are ancient structures and maybe their specialness is that they are homes for animals, in this case, Nora's barn. Nora has made the barn unique in her own way.




*I can't because I am still using Gary's computer and can't download my pictures to it. My computer should be up and running within a week in it's shiny new office.

Did you miss me???? Here's the latest. A BIG THANK YOU, TOO.

(1.) Check out my new grand puppy, Becky the Basset, at my son-in-law's blog, Sheep Days. The gorgeous little boy is my grandson, Thomas.

Now Brett will understand the old expression, "Love me, love my dog."

(2.) I decided to redecorate my office because the new floor is so gorgeous. This has become a much bigger project than anticipated, but I am motivated. I was living in terror that the HGTV people would show up at our house and do a remodel as per requested by our daughter in one of those "My parents are stuck in the last century" episodes.

(3.) Please forgive my griping about our weather. We do not live in San Diego where it is law that the weather and climate is always perfect. However, we have now had 31 days of temperatures above 110. This is especially bad when one is teaching and the kids can't go out for recess. Of course the kids can walk back and forth from school. Someone wrote into the paper saying that the rest of the country has snow days and that we should have heat days.

Ah, this too shall pass. ( I just made that up.)

(4.) A HUGE THANK YOU : I want to publicly thank the people who read my blog, comment on it and those very precious friends who email me regularly from around the world. I have always believed in the goodness, kindness, warmth and amazing humor of people and this is continuously shown by small group of blogger friends. I treasure your words.


Life is good.

I still love it here.

I was born in Madison, Wisconsin. I lived in:
- Baraboo, Wisonsin
- Eleva, Wisonsin
- Elmhurst, Illinois
- Ellendale, North Dakota
- Charleston, Illinois
- DeKalb, Illinois
- Morgantown, West Virgina
- New Britain, Connecticut
- Madison, Wisconsin
- Grand Forks, North Dakota
- Mesa. Arizona. I love it here.

I love Arizona. It's beauty is haunting. The weather is magnificnet from November through Aprtil, and then it gets hot. The last two weeks have been the hottest on record. Our students can't go out for recess. They can, howver , walk to and from school. Someone suggested that in the rest of the country they have snow days, so perhaps we should have heat days. Tomorrow it will much. much cooler; 98 degrees.

We must go through the worst to appreciate the best.

Remember Murphy Brown?

I am on my husband's computer so I can't seem to add any images.


Remember on the show Murphy Brown, the contrator who was a permanent resident because he was always working on a project? Well, that's happened at our house, but here is the good news; our contrator/handyman is delightful and the remodeling although going very s-l-o-w-l-y is worth the wait. The floor is much better than I hoped for. The new doors look gorgeous. A shiny light and fan will brighten my office, and have decided that paint and wallpaper will look much better than the crappy stuff (which I loved at one time, but everyone else hated) has to go. This is all a bit tricky with teaching full time, and my day starts early. I'm at school before 7:00 am. Oh, well, I can sleep .... later.

It's been said that remodeling is as stressful as a divorce, but aside from the appliance death watch, death of an beloved pet ( oh, yes, another a/c unit has been leaking which caused ceiling damage and we could have bought a really high-end washer for it's repair) but who's counting? I think we have done very well and only mild irritation over furniture placement and removal (yea, - way too much firniture before) and major LIGging (see blog below) on my part, have keep kept us sane. After having watched many episodes of HGTV we should realize that everything costs more than estimated. Oh, well, who's counting. (I said that didn't I?)

When I get my own computer back I'll post pictures.

Every School Year is Different, so I LIG.

Every school year is unique because there are millions - literally - of combinations of factors that make so many things different. For example, brutal heat; 113 degrees the first day. One less sixth grade teacher, and larger classes. The entire sixth grade has a personality that is wildly different from last year's group. (Human, for one thing.) These kids are much less worldly. thank goodness.

Add to that being in the midst of major remodeling here at home which means that when I come home there isn't any real relaxation. Why is it that I don't feel the bone draining exhaustion that would normally swallow me up?

I'm glad you asked.

It is because I have finally learned to LIG. That is my new acronym for "Let It Go."

Of all the goals I have worked towards in the past four years LIGging has been one of the most satisfying because it has done the most to get stress under control.

As the Serenity prayer suggest you must let go of things you can't control. I had no idea how little I controlled. I had no idea that giving up that control would have the unknown bonus of giving me energy that was utterly wasted on things out of my control.

Ah, it's good to know I am still trainable.

All Dogs Go To Heaven

Bruno, our eighteen and half year old beagle, died this morning. Only last month he was out dancing in the backyard under the moon. No one told him he was old and deaf and blind and dancing was only for young dogs. It has been a year full of dog deaths. Bruno's sister Mollie died last October. They were both ancient dogs. We loved them, but it was time.

The toughest death was Josephine (JoJo) beagle, who had to be put to sleep on Christmas day. It was just like having someone shove their fist down your throat and then rip your heart out. Josephine was much younger. She had shown no signs of illness. She was sweet beyond sweet and full of love. Jo the peacemaker. My son held her in his arms, like a baby, as she died.

My dear, dear, friend Pat, died On Christmas day, too. The day after that Gail's mom died. The unexpected deaths are something you never get used to. Christmas will never be the same.

Our beagle girls; Freddie, JoJo's sister, and the little girl dogs, Roxanne and Mabel are all that is left of the pack. They are bewildered today. They don't know death, but they do know loss.

Our friend Austin said an amazing thing about dogs, "They stay puppies their whole lives, then they die and break your hearts." How true.

But I have always said our pets are only loaned to us.

I could get everything done if I didn't have to sleep.

We are remodeling, which means moving decades worth of stuff, but so much stuff was thrown out, too. Good riddance. Appliances have made a suicide pact. We bought a lovely new refrigerator. Hooray.

This week has been filled with before school meetings. School starts with the kids on Monday. Tonight we had "Meet and Greet" where the kids and parents come to meet the teacher. All but two of my students showed up. That's a record.

Lots of former students stopped by to say "Hello", which is something that can't be put in a paycheck. Everyone of them said they were still goal-setting. I couldn't be prouder of them.

I am woefully sleep-deprived, but as happy as I can remember. I busy. I'm tired. But I'm not stressed. I wish I could bank this lovely feeling. Oh, I know. I can blog about it.

Ach! Why are people still tanning?

In early 1970’s my husband, his parents and I had gone to dinner at a fashionable restaurant in Scottsdale. We had gone for a stroll after dinner to see some of the galleries. Walking in front of us was an unusual couple. The man, middle aged and ordinary looking. The woman? The most exotic person I had ever seen and dressed like someone straight out of Frederick's of Hollywood. She was very slender and wore what were called “toreador” pants with a matching bolero style jacket, but in a ghastly leopard print. She teetered along on the tallest black patent leather heels I had ever seen. Her hair was bleached and frazzled. Then she turned around and I almost gasped because she was so tanned and wrinkled she made the Marlboro man look pale. It was frightening!

In retrospect, the woman was probably a prostitute. (No, I don’t know that, and yes, that is judgment call.) But the lesson I learned was not to over tan (her profession didn’t occur to me until later), and that was back in the days when we didn’t know how harmful tanning was. I am sad to say that many women my age and younger, here in Arizona, haven’t learned that lesson. Wrinkles have never been fashionable.

Arizona and Florida have the highest rates of skin cancer in the United States. I slathered my kids in sunscreen. I still apply sunscreen everyday. People are now carrying umbrellas as sun protectors. Nearly everyone here knows someone who has had some form of skin cancer, and we have known young people who have died from it. It is an excruciating way to die.

That is why on our recent trip to the Midwest I was astounded to see so many people deeply tanned. We drove though many, many small towns on the back roads of Ohio, Kentucky, Indiana, Illinois and Missouri and in every little town there were tanning salons, and evidently doing a booming, if not deadly, business.

Admittedly, a tan on a young healty looking person looks good as compared to pasty white skin, but the real thing is a ticking time-bomb.

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Crazy July weather in Arizona.

Temperature on July 3rd, 2007 is 109 IN THE SHADE!!

The weather service said it was about 115.

We consider that HOT.

Do you see this?

72 degrees on a rainy day.

We love this RARE cool down in July.

This only happens after a pouring rainstorm, which leaves everything cool and that spicy, intoxicating smell of the desert.

Comment on another Blog - On Lipsticks

My friend Neva of Let Me Be Blunt …, wrote recently about a friend’s compliment on how terrific she looked (which she does)and attributed it to her lipstick. Neva claims never to leave home without putting on lipstick. I belong to that club, too. It got me to thinking about that luscious stuff. Thanks, Neva! My daughter also blogged about the curative power of lipsticks and how purchasing one is a real spirit lifter. That is so true.

An Ode to Lipstick.

I read once that lipstick gives the face balance. That is true, but I think there is much more to lipstick than that. Lipstick is usually the first make up a girl is allowed to wear. A girl knows she looks pretty when she puts on lipstick. It is a powerful feeling. My six grade girls wear pink lip gloss. I don’t remember the color of my own first lipstick but I remember my sister’s. It was Revlon’s “Powder Pink” and it looked exactly like congealed Pepto-Bismol. It was gross. It looked gross on every girl who wore it. Fads cannot be explained by logic. Powder Pink will probably rise again and be as wildly popular as black nail polish.

In the 1960’s lipstick became so pale that it looked like one wasn’t wearing it at all. Lots of dark eye make up, and false eye lashes. Ah, the raccoon look. I knew one girl who actually wore foundation on her lips instead of lipstick. Not a good look.

My lips aren’t bad. Not big. Not too small. I am not unhappy with my lips. I never would consider the lip injections. Melanie Griffith’s lips now look like those old pictures of Lucille Ball (of “I Love Lucy”) who would paint outside the natural lines of her lips. That held a horrible fascination for me. Who would purposely go after that look? Does Antonio Banderas really want to kiss those lips? Yuck.

My sister has had lipstick issues from the beginning as her lips are small and thin. Actually, her lips are pretty but she has never felt comfortable with lipstick. She claims she eats it off as soon as she puts it on. A few years ago I bought her some lipstick that claimed to be “Industrial Strength”. Okay, they didn’t say that but that was the meaning. I picked out a color that I thought would be flattering, Bonnie insisted it was exactly the same color as angle worms. She was right. She gave the tube back to me but I never actually wore it because of the worm connotation.

Lipstick, unfortunately, likes my teeth. I always brush my teeth after lunch at school, powder my nose and put on fresh lipstick. There is always a student who kindly points out that I have lipstick on my teeth. By the end of the year neither the students nor I am embarrassed by this ritual. At least they tell me, unlike adults.

I have a special love for red lipstick; red that is on the verge of orange. Oh, that is my favorite. One can’t stock up on lipstick as it does go bad. That sounds like a country song, doesn’t it, “When Good Lipstick Goes Bad Then My Dog Runs Away”. I think that could be a hit.

Also, you have to cull lipsticks. Free lipsticks are never a good idea. They are rarely a good color. Also, lipsticks sometimes end up being a different color in the light of day than they are at the point of purchase. Case in point, any purple lipstick is potentially disastrous. Woman buy them because they see doctored pictures of models who look gorgeous and sexy in purple lipstick, but no real human has actually pulled that look off. It has never happened and never will, yet the stores are full of them. The landfill is their resting place. RIP.

Men, you do not understand woman’s relationship with lipstick and don’t even presume that you do. It is primal, and you should respect that.

My husband's luggage

This is EXACTLY the same kind and amount of luggage my husband uses on any trip we take. Of course my husband is much more handsome and very well dressed. However, he has a pathological disorder that makes him absolutely luggage phobic. He would take less if he possible could.

I, however, believe that a large piece of luggage and a carry on are fine. My husband is almost ill over the excess amount of luggage I take.

He has never been stranded in Europe without luggage as I have.

A Gratfying Day - the Blog was Published in the Newspaper

This past Friday two very good things happened. It was my daughter's 30th birthday. Although we could not be with our daughter, her GGF (good, good friend) and GGF's MH (mesmerizing husband) were. Do you wonder why I am the queen of acronyms?

The second thing was that I had an editorial printed in our local paper. The editorial was the blog the I wrote titled "An Elegant Solution for Education." (See below) The paper changed the headline to, "Education Would Improve With A Healthy Dose of Respect." They didn't change anything else, as sometimes happens. The best part was the response. I have received; over 20 emails, and a couple of calls. I am not counting the emails from friends to whom I emailed the article and they were forced to reply kindly. They did. The emails from strangers have been incredibly kind and supportive. Twenty emails might not sound like much but I was thrilled. (Last year I corresponded with a writer who appeared on a segment of Oprah and she said she had received six emails as a result of her appearance. Six for an appearance on Oprah!!)

In making the plunge to being a thorn-in-the-side of the district I realized that when people say "Somebody ought to ..." (and I am guilty of that) I was going to be that some body. Last fall I wrote an editorial that saved, at least temporarily, a good reading program. I am a tenured teacher so they can't fire me. Yes, yes, I realize tenure protects many incompetent teachers. The real question is, will this editorial do any good?

I believe it will. I am a great fan of Malcolm Galdwell's wonderful book The Tipping Point. It made me realize the power of grass roots efforts, and that the high mucky-mucks really need to pay attention to those of us in the trenches. Remember that in Ancient Sparta there were 25,00o citizens and 250,000 slaves. The citizens lived in constant fear of a slave rebellion. I know the school districts would not have to worry so much about rebellions (re: strikes) if teachers felt valued and respected. What a concept: treating employees with dignity. (This should be a given in ALL of life!)

I was so grateful for all the supportive emails I received. Only one was from a grumpy person, who although he could find nothing wrong with what I had to say he did blame all of the ills of education on the National Education Association, which he mistakenly called a union. I thanked him for his comments.

Thank you to my son-in-law, Brett. You got me started on blogging.

Happy Birthday, Baby Girl!

Before, May 1977

She didn't like the first bath from Grandma, but now she loves soaking in the tub.

I always knew she would be beautiful. Just look below.

Age 1, 1978

Alexandra, age 2, 1979

Lily and Tom at Mom's 29th Birthday, 2006


Happy Birthday, Baby Girl.

You have brought us such joy.

We are so proud of all that you have accomplished, and the lives you have touched.

Thirty years ago we could not have imagined any of this, but we always knew you were destined to make the world a better place, and you have.

We love you.

119 degrees is just too hot, even if it's dry heat.

It could get up to 119 F. degrees tomorrow. (48.3 C) Even for those of us who have spent decades in Arizona, that is considered hot. I know, I know, you have heard us say, “But it’s a dr-r-r-r-ry heat.” It is, and the only way I can describe it is like the blast from an oven. It is almost impossible to compare it with heat that includes humidity.

Remember when you have all the humidity you have the literal weight of the moisture in the air. That’s part of what makes a person so lethargic when it’s 98 degrees and the humidity is 98%.

Our problem comes when we get our awful heat and the humidity of the monsoon season. Monsoon is a misnomer, but the Arizona natives have called the rainy summer season “monsoon” and it has stuck.

Our rainy season does not include gentle cooling rain. Instead great mountainous cumulous clouds billow up over the mountains and then the storms come crashing in with noise and flash and shuddering thunder. They are like heat blizzards with punishing winds and more often than not the spectacular lightning that sets off desert wild fires. If we get rain in the spring we get a lot of desert vegetation which dries out in the heat and then is fuel for summer fires.

But after the rain there is the gorgeous, spicy, intoxicating smell of the desert, and nothing else in the world smells better.

The Tortoise, the Hare, and the Treadmill

It’s been three weeks since I seriously started my “treadmilling”. Things are going slowly, but, as my friend pointed out at a recent breakfast, “You might lose more weight if you changed your eating habits.” This, after she watched in horror as I put sugar and cream in my coffee.

“You’re right,” I sniffed. “I know I would lose weight more quickly if I dieted but I also know it wouldn’t be permanent.” She scoffed. “If I diet and lose weight my body will figure it out, and get even.” She scoffed again. “If I exercise and don’t change the way I eat I’ll lose weight.” She was into major scoffing by now. “I already have.” The scoffing abruptly stopped. She was quiet.

“How long do you think this will take?” she wanted to know.

“Maybe, hmmm, a year.”

“A year?”

“Probably.”

“You’re kidding.”

No, I wasn’t. I heard a story of a man who owned a health club and didn’t understand why people had such a hard time losing weight. He went on his first diet and lost twenty-five pounds. It was easy. No big deal. (You know where this story is going.) He put the weight back on plus five pounds and started having trouble with his weight. After I heard that story I decided I would never diet again.

It’s said that you must walk about 40 miles to lose a pound. As of today I’ve walked just under 90 miles, and I things have definitely toned up and I know I’ve lost a little weight. The main thing is I have stuck with this and honestly enjoyed it. That was my original goal:to stick with it.

Believe me, if I can do this anyone can. How are you doing?

An Elegant Solution for Education

Everybody seems to know what is wrong with education, and every one of these experts can tell you, with absolute assurance that the problem with education is one of the following (in no particular order): rotten teachers, rotten kids, rotten parents, an over-sexed society, politics, entertainment, the media, and let’s not forget, junk food. The public is told that if only these things were changed children would start to learn. If only it were that simple.

“Ockham’s Razor”, named after a fourteenth century English friar, is credited with the stating that the simplest explanation is often the best. Here is one of the unquestioned beliefs, as applied to education, that if test scores go up then education is good. Sadly, a great many people, especially those in the political arena who have the power to control education, have sold American’s on this supposed “truth”. As an educator of thirty years, I can only say that this simple truth is horribly and egregiously wrong. Here is the truth folks, and dear Ockham, no doubt, would agree, when tests scores go up it simply means that students did well on tests. It does not mean that any learning took place, or (heaven forbid) that a student learned to love to learn, or became motivated to learn. There are lots of ways to do well on a test that have nothing to do with learning. I know I am not the only one to see this.

We can assume that children who come from stable homes, have two involved parents, plan on going to college, and have good teachers will probably do better in schools than students who have none of those things. However, that is not always the case as many, so-called advantaged kids fail. The explanations for the students who do well in spite of disadvantages are fascinating and wildly conflicting. No one really knows. They do make for good movies, however. (I remind my students that movies are to make money first and foremost, not to necessarily to enlighten.)

I recently talked with a woman who was retired from thirty years of teaching. She said something that took my breath away because it was so obvious, but I had never questioned it. She said she never for one day felt that the school district valued her as a teacher, and that had she treated her students with the contempt and indifference that she experienced she would have been fired. My mouth dropped. She was right. As one example, teachers are no longer allowed to have students exchange papers to grade them in class (I never did this because kids were too busy seeing what they got on their own papers) because it is traumatic when a student doesn’t do well on a test. Yet, there are schools that post in the teacher’s lounge, or other public places, how teacher’s classes perform on standardized tests. The teachers are to be shamed? Shame may work but it is a despicable way to supposedly motivate people.

I already know who will say, “Well, they should be shamed if their class didn’t do well.” I would say to them, is the doctor shamed if the patient doesn’t heal? No! People would say there are just too many factors that the doctor cannot control. And yet people honestly think that teachers do have that control? Exponentially a teacher is often working with thirty or more students at a time, and each student comes with his or her own backpack full of issues. I can tell you from personal experience having a student whose behavior is sociopathic makes it pretty darn hard to teach. Don’t you think that might affect test scores?

Recently Google was listed as one of the best places to work in the country. They are inundated everyday with thousands of applicants. Why? Google employees talk of the wonderful perks: gourmet food, health clubs, great pay, being able to bring pets to work, flexible hours and top notch health care. Those certainly would be incentives for most people. Yet so many Google employees said that being valued as employees was one of the greatest perks. Mmmmmm.

I would be willing to guess that students who feel valued and respected by their teachers enjoy school, and more than likely learn more from that type of teacher. Does that translate to better test scores? I don’t know, and that isn’t the point of education. The point of education is to learn how to learn. Ideally, it is to learn to love to learn and to take that learning and share it for the greater good of humankind.

Smart school districts, will value and respect their teachers. Even Ockham, I am sure would agree, that treating every school employee with respect would be obvious and (here’s the real surprise) it wouldn’t cost a thing.

Wimbleton Widow

“Ung – uuuumph- uuuuump!” Thwack!

“Argggggggrph!” Thunk!

“Ung – umph- omp!” Thwaa-ack!

“Argggggggrph -phoof!” Thunk!

“AHHHHHHHHH!”

“Ung – uuuumph- ump!” Thwack!

“Ohhhhhhhh!”

“Argggggggrph!” Thunk!

The sounds of Wimbleton will soon reverberate throughout our house.

My name is Liz and I’m a Wimbleton Widow.

Strawberry Maniac

I may OD on strawberries. They are so inexpensive, $1.50 a quart, that I have been eating strawberries in everything, and they are huge strawberries, too. Until the tell-tale red splotches appear on my skin I’m going for it.

I talked to my sister, who lives in Minnesota and she said she tries not to look at the prices when she buys them. There are some things in life you just have to splurge on and strawberries are one of them. I can’t believe I didn’t like them as a child.

By the way, the cantaloupes are wonderful, too. Oh! And the peaches are just perfect. I’m in heaven. The wonderful fruit makes the crushing Arizona summer heat worth it. Remember though; it’s a dry heat.