Janet's Blog

I've vowed that I will write mostly positive things in my blog, so I don't often dwell on health concerns--either my own or others'.  It's been said that "everybody has something," and I suppose I'd just as soon be stuck with some relatively annoying ailments rather than more serious, life-threatening diseases like heart disease or cancer.  I guess I should be glad that my pharmacists (and their assistants) know me by name.  At least, fibromyalgia, arthritis, and asthma don't require chemotherapy. One of the reasons I enjoy teaching preschoolers is that young children really don't care if my symptoms are showing.  When half the class is coughing because of colds, my occasional shortness of breath and cough fit right in.  On those days when I long for a nap, I can usually find someone to commiserate with me.  If I can't get the lid off a marker, an eager child is always ready to show me how strong he is.  And when I drop a crayon or spill my

Years ago, most farms had at least one dump, located in a ravine or grove of trees.  Dad has always made it his mission to clean up any dump he found on property he rented or owned, so cleaning up abandoned dumps often became a family activity.  The first dump I remember cleaning up was in the grove on the farm near Bloomfield.  I wasn't really old enough to be much help, but I could pick up some trash, if I was careful.  Mom and Dad always cautioned me to not pick up broken glass or sharp tin cans.  Sometimes, we found wonderful treasures close to home, like old marbles, or a head from a china doll.  Broken dishes were interesting to look at, even if I couldn't touch.  Old farm equipment was always salvaged and saved, to be taken, eventually, to someone who bought scrap metal.  Cleaning up a dump was never a quick job; it often dragged on for weeks or even several years, before the land was restored to pristine condition.  We enjoyed working together, often in the

It's March again, the month that I long for and long to see the end of. *   I don't know why I'm so anxious for spring this year, because this mild winter has been wide open, with no more than a couple of inches of snow now and then, all winter long.  But, in March, the whole world seems to exist in shades of brown.  Perhaps I'm longing for some color--green grass and leaves on the trees, red and yellow tulips.  I feel so restless, so lacking in passion, unable to decide on any one thing to write about today.  Our wonderful new grand-baby is six weeks old, but mere words can't express all I feel about him and about being a grandma, so I'll have to write more about that later. * Our quick ski trip to Snowy Range was great--the kids had a good time, and everyone has lots of stories to tell about snow-boarding lessons and rude snowboarders who cut people off, causing falls that could have been more serious than they were.  Everyone (except, maybe, Erin) plans

Bill and I have been married for thirty-seven years. In that time together, we have lived in six different places--two apartments and four houses. Every one of those places has had the same kitchen counter tops--white laminate with metallic flecks. I'm ready for something different. Really! The Old Kitchen It's hard to believe that we've lived in our current house for nearly eighteen years.  The kitchen is the original one, which makes it forty-eight years old.   It was a top of the line kitchen in 1964.  Now, it's dingy and worn out.  Bill and I tore out the old, fake beams last month.  The kitchen seems so much bigger and brighter without them.  It's almost time to rip out those old cupboards.  Bill tore out the pantry and desk today so the cabinet builder can figure out how to build the new pantry around the existing laundry chute.  Or, maybe, we'll decide to remove the laundry chute altogether.  Pantry--Before Pantry--After tear-out Bi