Ghost Busters We're Not

 

“You put us in a hotel that is HAUNTED?”

Thirty minutes after booking the room for our overnighter in Sedalia, I discovered that the hotel of my choice, the glorious Hotel Bothwell in downtown Sedalia, had been featured on one of those hauntedhotel shows. Kelly and I decided not to tell the girls, but I wondered if maybe that’s why a small suite at the Bothwell cost no more than a standard room at the Best Western.

 

They found out when their cheerleader friends at the fairgrounds asked where they were sleeping that night. “We can’t stay there, we can’t stay there, we're hungry, we can't stay there” they shouted all the way across town. “Look,” I said in my best now-girls-let’s-be-reasonable voice, “all the so-called paranormal activity only happens on the third floor. There are seven floors, so the chances of us getting a room on the third floor are slim.”

 

Kelly and the girls checked in while I got the rest of our luggage, and I heard familiar screams and nervous laughter as I walked in. Kelly held up our room key, clearly marked 320. “We’re doomed,” one of the girls moaned.

It was a tense ride up the elevator. The girls didn’t notice the fabulous lobby, with the crystal chandelier, the brilliant polished wood and the gleaming brass, the lovely fabrics on the chairs and walls. It was stunning.

 

They jumped at every step, every shadowy doorway, every corner. They balked entering the room, holding each other and screeching. They went to the bathroom with the door open.

It took hours for them to settle down as their imaginations took hold of them. Of course, Kelly and I didn’t help, scratching on their door, turning out lights, making sudden “what’s that” sounds and “buwawhahaaaa” laughs.

 

It was actually a lot of fun, for at least two of us. Apparently the ghosts are accused of stealing small trinkets during the night, so Kelly and I tempted them with her cheer pin. It was still there when we awoke, so perhaps the spirits had the weekend off.

 

Haunted or not, I love these old grand hotels with their aging luxury. They are like scenes from movies, romantic old movies. They are packed with history, and the Bothwell, built in 1927, is no exception. Like all these old places, famous people visited often, including Harry Truman and Scott Joplin. And now, our girls.

 

We are going back again, but next time, sans children. The ghosts will have to decide for themselves. The girls won't be there to scare them off....

Is Kelly Lucky Or What (Especially At Christmas)

We were married on New Year’s Day, a Monday, a new beginning in many ways. Since then, I’ve described myself as the luckiest man on earth, and that remains true.

 

I am lucky to have Kelly, but here’s a modest reminder of how lucky she is to have me, a man who likes having someone to do things for.

 

 

One night, after a long day of shopping the flea markets, she set up this lovely display of her plates on our bedroom wall. She was unhappy to leave “a hole” where one more plate should go, but she was nearly falling over for want of sleep. I’ve lived with her long enough to know that once she gets to that point, she is useless for anything but sleep. As I tucked her in, she whispered, “If you loved me you would put up one more plate….” And then she was out.

I figured it couldn’t be that hard. Kelly had put up 11 plates already, and only broke two, so I could probably manage. But she was out of plates, and out of the wire racks to hang one with. So I did the next best thing, what any man in love would do to prove his devotion. I went downstairs to the cupboard and found the exactly right shaped and patterned paper plate to fill in for the time being, until we could make another trip to the thrift stores.

 

When Kelly awoke the next morning, she noticed the plate first thing, and showered me with affection. She was so excited, so pleased, that she took photos to share with her friends in Blogland. She is still so happy with my act of kindness, these many months later, that she refuses my offer to put up a real plate in place of the paper one. She's sentimental that way.

 

While installing Christmas decorations a few weeks ago, we found a small pink tree that our daughter Carrie left behind. With her permission, I set it up for Kelly in our sitting room, because I know she loves pink Christmas trees and I know how much she loves the twinkle lights. Few things bring Kelly as much joy as sock monkeys, so I thought “what better for this little tree than her favorite sock monkey,” this pink little guy with the big smile. Kelly came in and saw the tree, then saw the toy on top, and she squealed with delight. More kisses came my way, I’ll tell you that.

 

Kelly’s new favorite place to sit is right under this tree, with the monkey man watching. While there has been talk of having to take down all the trees and decorations in the rest of the house here in a couple of days, she has not mentioned taking down the pink tree. It just means too much to her. She's sentimental that way.

 

On the porch, we have a white tree, another flea market find, which Kelly says she has always wanted. The ornaments are all pretty, but they are plastic, because they are exposed to the sun and wind and rain. The topper on this tree, a colorful keepsake from one of our many trips to Wendy’s, a family favorite, has become a tradition for us, and a reminder of what really matters.

 

This disposable display is highlighted by a used paper cup. The neighbors might call it trash, but to us it represents the true meaning of holiday celebrations. Ultimately, everything we have is disposable, and all the gifts and foods and trappings of Christmas mean little. Some people may have a perfect Martha Stewart magazine-cover Christmas, but neglect each other. What matters, what really lasts, is our family, each person, each individual. The love and kindness that we share, the bonds we form that will never be broken, that is what Christmas really means, and the humble little tree on our humble little porch helps us to never forget.

 

Here, Aubrey shows that she has learned the lesson, too. Awwww….

 

So I ask you. Is Kelly lucky or what?

Another Christmas Tree For My Brother's Birthday

 

Today is my older brother’s birthday, which has many fond memories because December 17 was the day our mother finally let us put up the Christmas tree. It never crossed my mind that Gary Jo  might have thought he was cheated, having a birthday so close to, you know, the BIG holiday, and having his party overshadowed by trimming the tree. If it bothered him, I never knew it.

Nor would I have cared, because getting the tree and decorating it was a BIG deal at our house, and we waited for it for months. Four of the six of us shared one big room, half of our basement, and we used to count down the last 65 days until Christmas. And before that, we would count down the days until October 22, when we could start counting down.

As the 17th approached, one of us would get to ride along with dad to Heck’s IGA, where they had a rack of bundled trees leaning up against the building every year. Dad would carefully check each one to get the one that seemed just right, and he always did get it right. We never had a bad tree.

One year, when I was 12, dad let me pick the tree, and it was a thrilling and terrible responsibility. He never minded the mess of needles and sap. He loved the smell and the texture. Our decorations were simple: bright red and blue and green and white and yellow lights as big as his thumb, hand-glittered glass ornaments, and 20 boxes of tensel, placed carefully and evenly, one strand at a time.

Every tree we had growing up was fabulous, but no matter how fabulous, my mom had them down and out on the trash heap by noon, December 26.

 

 

Now, on the other hand, we feel bad taking any of our seven trees down before February, and I admit there was at least one year it was still up on April Fool’s Day. This year, so far, anyway, we have a white tree on the porch, the big green tree in the living room, another white tree in the dinning room, a silver tree in the baking kitchen, a pink tree in our bedroom, a mulit-colored tree in Libby's room and another silver one in Aubrey's room. The other green tree, we gave to Lydia for her new house. That's normal. Right?

 

 

Kelly Is Going To Kill Me When She Wakes Up In The Morning

 

I couldn't help myself, her pie is that good.

When Did I Become So Inept?

 

I used to be able to look at something and pretty much figure out how it worked or how to put it together, at least by following the instructions. I used to write instruction manuals, for Pete’s sake.

But I was nearly defeated this morning by the windshield wiper on Kelly’s car.

 

 

It says “Easy To Install” right on the package. It says “From package to windshield in minutes.” I guess that’s true, literally, but instead of taking one or two minutes as is implied, it took nearly 20 minutes.

The parts are black on black, the interlocking pieces are small, and the print is tiny, but that shouldn’t have been a deal breaker. What’s worse, I nearly didn’t make it that far. The hard plastic package took far longer to open than I care to admit.

I guess my easy FLIP and SLIDE days are over....

 

At last, the blade is installed, but Kelly is taking her chances. I only guarantee my wiper work in sunny weather.

Presidential Issue 5: Don’t Tell Us Who Won Before The Polls Close

 

I just read, again, how the media uses exit polls and computer models and divining rods and palm lines and tea leafs and previous results to project election winners long before everyone gets a chance to cast their ballot. I wish they wouldn’t do that.

It’s too late this time, but I say let’s elect a president who will make a difference, who will stop it. Let them gather their voodoo numbers but make them keep it to themselves until after the last person votes. Except, of course, for people in Hawaii. I mean, who wants to wait that long. And California, like it’s any surprise what they will do there.

Now, I’m off to cancel my wife’s vote….

Say Trick Or Treat, Say Thank You

 

The first time I took a child out trick or treating on Halloween, Thriller was the top album,  ET was the big movie, and Commodore 64 was the hot, new computer. John Belushi and Grace Kelly were both alive, and the Cardinals had just won the World Series. I’ve done it and loved it every year since, rain or shine, warm or cold, one kid or seven.

 

 

I thought I would miss it last night, not going out with a costumed kiddie, but we had too much fun to notice. I missed the kids, yes, a lot, and I miss the grandkids, but I didn’t miss carrying the toddlers and wheeling them in the stroller and worrying about traffic and standing on the sidewalk and reminding them to say “trick or treat” and “thank you.” I enjoyed all that, and am grateful for all those years of fun, and I miss the kids – did I mention that? - but I didn’t miss it. I watched the parents as they came to our door, and I have to say it is fun from the front, too.

 

 

 

Kelly and I were thrilled watching the wide-eyed little ones walk up, the pirates and soldiers and princesses and witches and super heroes, that one kid dressed up like a police call box, so happy, so excited, so filled with wonder at what was happening.

 

We live in a neighborhood that dresses up for Halloween. People come from all over town, even from nearby towns, to see it all, to be part of it. We usually have around 1,200 goblins come to our door. That may seem like a typo, but it’s not. From 4:30 to 9:30 last night, we gave away 44 pounds of candy. It is common to have 20 or more children lined up on our sidewalk, hour after hour, and the fun doesn’t stop.

 

 

Kelly always puts out a nice spread for the friends who come over before the door-to-door action.

 

She always decorates inside the house, subtle touches of holiday made personal for and to our family. I like that about her.

 

It doesn't look like much, 44 pounds of candy, but it sure was popular. Some people in the neighborhood give out full-sized Snickers bars. We aren't one of those families. But we have tableclothes for every holiday, every occassion. I like that.

 

I decorate the outside of the house, based on a photo Kelly found in one of her many holiday magazines.

 

The calm before the stampede: the Purple English Teacher waiting to pass out the goodies. She said "great costume" and "happy Halloween" so much last night that she woke up hoarse.

 

 

Part of the queue. It is like this at every house, up and down the street. Fun, fun, fun. 

 

One of the parents said that she got married in our house, 26 years ago. We invited her in, with part of her her large family, and she seemed very pleased. We took pictures of her behind our stair rail, just as she stood back in 1986. That was cool.

 

Our windows always get a lot of attention, and a lot of favorable comments, another idea from one of Kelly's holiday magazines. One woman said she has a photo of our house on her Facebook opening page. That seems weird.

You Gotta Love Halloween, Even Though The Grandkiddies And Most Of The Kids Are A Thousand Miles Away

 

I love Halloween, and some of the girls have had a chance to celebrate earlier in the week. Here are photos, starting with Brianne and Callie (I think, anyway), dressed up for a pre-holiday party. Everyone was thrillered. Ha ha....

Lucy got two costumes, both adorable, a baterina and Hello Kitty, only cuter. Kelly made this one.

 

Baby Aspen in her Halloween jammies. Let's hope she is more alert tonight.

 

 

 

This just in: our little Sadie, cute as can be. She reminds me of that old saying, "I can't wait until tomorrow, because you get cuter every day." Am I right? 



 

Of course, here's me with my very own Purple English Teacher, heading off to class. Of course, she gets cuter every day, too. Woo hoo!

 

Am I lucky or what. Everybody have a fun, safe night.

Red And Yellow And Orange, Oh My

 

We live in a fabulous neighborhood, filled with old homes and old trees and, well, old people. The streets are especially beautiful during these brief days in October when leafs first turn from green to red and yellow and orange.

Kelly and I got a rare hour together one afternoon last week, so we made a photo expedition through our streets. I haven’t been on a lot of photo expeditions, but the ones where you get to hold hands are the best.

You can see some of the photos Kelly took here, and some I took two years ago right about here. We live in a fabulous neighborhood.

 

If you live in a place where the leafs have not all fallen or turned brown, take an hour, take someone’s hand and take a walk. And take your camera.

Okay, Okay, Some Cupcakes May Be Worth Four Bucks

 

You would never know from looking at her, but my wife, Kelly, is domestic. Undeniably. She loves to cook and knit and sew, she has all the right tools, the exactly right table cloth for every occasion, all that kind of stuff. But her favorite is baking. Using her own recipes or published recipes that she modifies, she produces wonderful, tasty delights.

For example, for a social event at her work tonight, she made eight dozen cupcakes. Only about 10 people are coming, but Kelly couldn’t decide what flavor to make, so she made three: her famous snickerdoodle cupcakes, a modified recipe for lime cupcakes (I am eating one now), and a modified recipe for Nutella cupcakes.

 

As you know, I often rant about high-priced specialty treats, like cupcakes, but her lime cupcakes, sprinkled lightly with salt, are superb. As good as they are, though, they come in far behind these Nutella cupcakes, which are easily worth four dollars. Perfect texture, perfect flavor, perfect taste. Just perfect.

 

 

Why not join me in hoping there are leftovers....

Fight Type 2 Diabetes, Scrub Your Tub, And Soak Your Veggies: Just Two Things To Do With Vinegar (Oh Wait, That’s Three Things)

 

Kelly Darling has washed her hair with apple cider vinegar for a couple of months, and we really like the results. Her hair is cleaner, softer, more manageable, and it smells nice.

 

I use distilled vinegar mixed with water, salt and dish soap as weed killer each spring, keeping our sidewalks and driveway clear of weeds all summer. It is inexpensive compared to commercial products, it is less toxic to non-plant life, and it works better. The yard doesn’t smell too good for a day or two, but that’s a small price to pay.

Okay, needs a good sweeping, but there are no weeds.

 

These are just two of the many apparent uses for vinegar. There are lots of places online to gather information, but I like Dr.Joseph Mercola. This is the link where you can find this information.

Other household uses for vinegar include: 

• Vinegar and water = window cleaner.

• Vinegar and water = vegetable soak to remove pesticides and bacteria from fresh produce.
• Vinegar and hydrogen peroxide = disinfectant and sanitizer.
• Vinegar and baking soda = bathtub cleaner.

From the medicine cabinet:

• Taking vinegar before meals, people with pre-diabetic symptoms reduced blood glucose concentrations by nearly half, and those with diabetes improved their blood glucose levels by 25 percent. They also lost a little weight.
• “Vinegar apparently provides at least some cures for allergies (including pet, food and environmental), sinus infections, acne, high cholesterol, flu, chronic fatigue, Candida, acid reflux, sore throats, contact dermatitis, arthritis, gout and the list goes on….”
• Cough suppressant: I had a miserable cough last week, and warmed 3 Tbsp. apple cider vinegar, 3 Tbsp. lemon juice, 2 Tbsp. honey, and 16 ounces of water. It tasted a lot like some things taste on the back up, but, boy, it knocked my cough out for about six hours.

For your pets:

• Vinegar “helps with arthritic conditions, controls fleas, repels flies, and gives a beautiful shine to their coats.”

 

Then, of course, there’s that whole Easter egg thing…. What less traditional uses do you have for vinegar?

 

Van Gogh Has Nothing On Us

Aubrey and Libby are the Self Portrait Queens, as is clear from their Facebook pages. However, looking for photos to support and illustrate this theory, I found plenty of evidence that they are not alone. It appears the skill or the need is in their genes….

Lydia and Sadie

Jessica and Sadie

Me and Uncle Dan

That's baby Lucy, long, long ago....