November 30,2008. Jackson, Ms. A Lovely Day.

People certainly are friendly in Mississippi. I have read all about it, but now I am experiencing it first hand. This morning we went with Andrew and Christina and the girls to their new church. We all decided to attend the early service at 8:30 and have them all go to Sunday School so we could all go out to brunch at 11:30. While they are in class, Ken and I drove around Jackson to see the downtown area and to just look around. We found several lovely neighborhoods south of town, and wended our way to the restaurant all by ourselves. I am always amazed how quickly a new town becomes familiar. The rest of the day we spent with the family at their home with Linda. In the afternoon we all went for a long walk in the neighborhood. The homes are well beyond the resources of Andrew and Christina, but we have enjoyed rambling around the big trees and houses.

Yesterday we went to the Natural Science Museum with them all. It is a perfect museum for us, not too big but very interesting. The artifacts are all from Mississippi. Lots more things we saw, but not very well so the next time we are there we will go there again. Lunch at 2:30 was a big hit, followed by football on TV at home. Bop's Place is the place to go for ice-cream, so we all went there and ate their delicious treats. We took two cars so we could show our hotel to them. They approved our choice of hotels which is in Ridgeland on the north side of the city. Andrew and the two older girls swam in our in-door pool while we watched the show from the deck of the pool. The weather is quite cool, 55 degrees in the day and down to 40 at night. We thought it would be warmer. Jackson is a nice city. It takes fifteen minutes to get anywhere. Although we have driven around several areas, I have not found a place I would Iike to live, which is a good thing.

Tomorrow Christina, Kate, Mary Frances and Molly along with Ken and I will take a field trip to the delta and Vicksburg, of Civil War fame. I am looking forward to our day.

November 28, 2008. Jackson, Mississippi. Stupid.

We got there. Now we have spent the bulk of the day with Andrew and Christina and the three girls, and Linda Creath. Kate is almost as tall as me. Molly and Mary Frances look about the same. The high light of the day for Kate was that she had cranberry cake for dessert at lunch, and pie for dessert at dinner. Thanksgiving is a wonderful time of the year. The first time we spent Thanksgiving dinner at the farm with the girls, Christina baked a cranberry almond cake along with the pumpkin pies. The cake was wonderful and we ate it every day with our afternoon tea. After the weekend I asked Kate what she liked best about Thanksgiving and her studied response was that she liked having dessert at lunch and with tea and with dinner. The cranberry cake has been a part of our Thanksgiving season from that day until now. It is a wonderful cake.

Our trip was uneventful, except I stupidly left my eye drops on the plane. Now I take these drops every four hours. When I fly, the small bottles leak, due to the change in air pressure, so Ken suggested I keep the bottles upright while on the plane. It has been my habit to place the bottles in the pocket in front of the seat. Today I forgot to pick it up and I left these five small bottles on the airplane. I called Southwest immediately, but the plane had already left Jackson. They are tracking it, but I have no hope of getting them back. The modern world is a wonderful place. I spoke to my drug store, who told me what to do. Twenty minutes later I picked up five new bottles of my drops. Now I am in business again. Now I must admit that I am not functioning as well as I would like to be doing. Or perhaps this is merely a way to keep me humble. But we are in Jackson, we are in our hotel, and tomorrow we will feel like locals. So far, this place looks very nice.

November 28,2008

November 27, 2008. Chevy Chase, Md. Thanksgiving Day

This is the first time since we sold our Franklin Street house that we had been in our apartment for Thanksgiving Day. It turned out to be a lovely day. Ken brought me coffee in bed, then told me when the parade was starting. I am like a child. I love to watch the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade. This year I was able to watch the whole thing. We intended to go downtown and walk the Mall, but after packing for our trip to Jackson, we ran out of time so only walked around the neighborhood, and got home just in time to shower before driving over to the Ditto's for dinner. Our former neighbors from Franklin Street came too with their son Robert, who was born when we were neighbors. Now he is a Freshman at Princeton, and is on their swim team. Their older son, Andrew, has graduated from the University of Virginia and now is learning to fly with the Air force, stationed in Pensicola. He could not come home for Thanksgiving, but will be home for two weeks at Christmas. As the Ditto's have three sons, two at College at The University of West Virginia, it made for a lively evening.

Of course, Diana is an excellent cook so the dinner was wonderful, except we all ate too much. But it was worth every calorie. The Coe Family lived next door to us for ten years. They were excellent neighbors. One year we discovered when coming in from the hot tub that the back door had locked. It was almost midnight, but I noted a light in the bedroom of our good neighbors, so over I go and knock on the door. Now I was wearing a bath robe, but nothing else. Good old Jana came down and gave me the extra key so we were able to get into our house. They are much younger than us but they look the same to me now. Both Jana and John seemed so happy and relaxed, and young. Of course, Gary and I have worked together almost thirty years and I have seen their lovely home many times but now we almost always visit with them in Pennsylvania as their place is just over a mile from our farm. Being a real estate agent, I just had to look all over their lovely home. Gary is a lucky man, with three fine boys and a lovely wife and of course he works very hard to provide for his Family. So often you hear complaints from people about their work or their spouse or family, but not Gary. He is unfailingly grateful for his lot in life. Now it is almost eleven o'clock and as we must leave at five o'clock for the airport, I must retire to bed. I enjoyed our day at home but next time we are here we must walk downtown. I promise.

November 26, 2008. Chevy Chase, Md. Memory.

Sometimes I can remember and sometimes I can not. Often a picture will trigger the whole event and then the memory of the event floods back in vivid color. I am sure I have cheerfully suppressed a lot of activities. In fact, my sister Carol recounts many stories about me that I have no memory ever occurred. These events often have miss-behaving, so I probably forget those stories immediately. It is interesting to try to figure out what you remember about years ago and what you have forgotten. For instance, I have a clear memory of the Thanksgiving day I spent with the Dumertons. My Mother and Father and I stopped off in Calgary to visit their family friends and Salvation Army Officers. I was fifteen and they had two sons, Billy and Berty, who were seventeen. I liked Billy. They also had two daughter, who were eighteen and nineteen, but I paid no attention to them at all, in fact I have no recollection that they were there. Along with several other friends we spent the whole day playing football and Monopoly. We had a blast. I was the only girl playing the games. The next day Mother, Father and I boarded the train for Vancouver, to continue on for my brother's wedding. Of course, we all looked forward to next June, when the Dumertons were coming to Toronto. The reason I remember this day of football is that Billy, on his way to Toronto was killed in a car accident, so that day was the last time I saw Billy.

Now what I don't remember is remarkable. This was October, 1953 and I was fifteen. I do not remember what I did that weekend in Vancouver. I can't recall where we stayed. I know I went to the wedding and I recall what I wore, but for the life of me I do not know who I visited and how I got around. We three moved to Toronto in July, 1953, and my sister and brother stayed in Vancouver, Carol to be in the wedding and Dave to marry Irene. I moved to Toronto on the train, along with my Mother and Father. I don't even recall if Carol came back with us to Toronto, or if she joined us at the end of the year. Carol was eighteen. I must have behaved myself, because Carol tells no stories about me concerning that time period. I suspect that I can not recall much about that weekend because my boyfriend John had already started going out with another girl, which I thought was tacky. Not only that but the Salvation Army officers who followed my Father in the job and who took over our house was the girl he went out with and ultimately married. I laughed about it. I do recall that I loved eating in the dining car on the train, with it's white table clothes, but the rest of the trip, other than the football game is a bit of a blur. Memory is a funny thing.

November 25, 2008, Chevy Chase, Md. Thanksgiving.

This American Thanksgiving is the best holiday of the year. The food is always the same, so no decisions have to be made. The families and friends gather together without regard to religion or creed. No presents have to be purchased and exchanged. The only thing that must be done is to get yourself from one place to another in order to celebrate the season with your family and friends. The food is even easy to prepare, so no wonder everyone loves Thanksgiving. In the United States, everyone goes home for Thanksgiving. The travel industry is busiest over Thanksgiving than any other time of the year. In Canada, I do not recall their Thanksgiving makes for a huge holiday. In fact, my recollection is that the holiday is more a Harvest Festival, rather that the huge Family celebration such as exists in the U.S. Of course, the October Thanksgiving in Canada has nothing to do with the Pilgrims. Because the date is in late November, many families with young children go home to the grandparents for Thanksgiving and then celebrate Christmas at home, so Santa Claus can find the children at their own home. For all those reasons, Thanksgiving is greatly beloved here.

For the past few years we have been in Nova Scotia for Thanksgiving, where we celebrate with our friends Mary and Walt. Mary is from Chicago so likes to celebrate the American Thanksgiving. She also celebrates Canadian Thanksgiving too. Mary is a very good cook so celebrating with them ia always a pleasure. Many years we celebrated at the farm with Andrew and Christina and the girls. The weather at the farm is wonderful in November, so it is always a pleasure to be there. One year I taught Christina to fix the turkey and dressing, as Andrew asked for dressing just like his Mother, so from that day until now, that is how Christina makes her turkey. Now I am not known as a wonderful cook, so that must be the only time any one asked me to prepare anything. Texas is another place we have celebrated Thanksgiving. We met Suzanne's grandparents over the holiday when both boys went hunting at their ranch. In fact we ate our turkey dinner with the Capp's family in Pontitoc, before David and Suzanne married. I love Thanksgiving and I love turkey. Now I am looking forward to the festivities.

November 25, 2008. Chevy Chase, Md. Christmas.

I early figured out how to enjoy Christmas, and that was to plan ahead and get many things done early. I shopped for Christmas gifts all year and just put things away in a safe spot until about one month before Christmas, when I would look over all my purchasers and decide where I have blanks. Very often I find several gifts for the same person or that I seriously over bought for the boys, but for the most part, by November 25, my gift shopping has been done. I used to play a game with myself to buy the gift that matched my budget, or to purchase the most clever gift that was within my budget. At no time did I spend so much money that I had to pay for the gifts in January. In other words, I tried to keep anxiety out of the Christmas season, by making a budget and then sticking with it. And of course, I try to do everything a long time ahead. One year when I was short of money I decided to make my gifts. As I am not handy with my hands, the gifts ended up decidedly unusual, and I never made presents again. My relatives are grateful. I love Christmas. I especially love the Thanksgiving to Christmas season, where every place is festive.

The only problem is that people are frantic to get to the end of their to-do list, and they forget that the season is to be enjoyed. My Father one year was ill in the hospital for the Christmas season, and my Mother was concerned that she had not completed her tasks for Christmas. Now I was a young woman, but had to remind my Mother that the list did not matter. What did matter was visiting Dad in the Hospital. Christmas would look after itself. That was the same year that my Father's watch stopped working, because he had a watch that required motion in order to keep wound. At that time, heart disease required the patient to stay in bed. Now the heart patient is up marching around the halls of the hospital, not laying in bed waiting to recover. That was in the early sixties. I learned that people are important at Christmas. So now, one month before Christmas,for me, everything is in place and everything is done, and now for the next month I can pay attentipn to the people and enjoy the events of the season. It is a good plan.

November 23, 2008. Chevy Chase, Md. Cold Weather.

It always comes on so quickly and catches you unawares. The human of the species is not able to accommodate to cold weather. In the Tropics a person takes only a few days to get used to hot weather, but we never get used to the cold. At 77 degrees, a human with no clothes can function very well, but when the weather is cold, we must use all out tricks to keep us warm and comfortable. Those tricks come back to me as the cold arrives and I am feeling very cold. I go through all my routines. This past week has been brutally cold so I brought out all my old routines. Now if you are a Canadian, all these routines are known to you as the weather is only 77 degrees a bit of the time, so in order to be comfortable both inside and outside, you develop a lot of patterns to keep warm. I always thought that everyone knew how to keep warm, until I saw my wonderful daughter-in-law feel cold all the time up in Nova Scotia. I had to give her a short course in survival tactics to keep warm. I taught her to wear socks and to tuck her shirt into her jeans. Wear a fleece jacket over her shirt that covers her bottom, and wear a hat. Now this looks ridiculous in August but it kept her warm.

This weekend at the farm I had to use all my tricks to keep warm. The temperature at night was 10 degrees and went up to 24 during the day. I did fine, because I remembered . I wear knee socks that are actually ski socks so are warm. I wear hiking boots. I wear long underwear tops under a long sleeved shirt, and I wear a light jacket in the house at all times. I use flannel sheets on the bed, as I do at the apartment. Last week at work I wore ankle length boots with both long pants and skirts. I wear gloves always out of doors, and always a scarf with my coat or jacket. But the best part is that after the day is done, we get into the hot tub, where the warmth gets right through to your bones, or at least it seems it is. My southern friends do not like hot tubs, at least not as much as we do, and that is because, as I child, they were always hot, while we were always cold. The interesting thing is that you forget from one year to the next, but just this week it all came back to me, and all my tricks worked to keep me warm and cosy. But the older I get, the less I like the cold weather. I better get used to it because winter is just beginning.

November 21, 2008. Bethesda, Md. Children.

It is always difficult when a child dies. It seems so unnatural to have a child pre-decease the parent . It is especially difficult when the child that dies has been a troubled child, who made life difficult for herself along with everyone else who tried to be helpful, including the parents and siblings. You just wonder why. Most answers are unsatisfactory, but still leaves you with more questions than answer. One thing we know now, is that the young woman is at peace.

Nikki was 32 when she died. Carol E. was her Mother. All these years we have known of the pain that comes from a daughter who seems self destructive and who will not look after herself. From time to time she refuses to take her medication and when this happens, bad behavior surfaces and no one is able to help. The other good folks become helpless to assist. It is heartbreaking to watch. All you are left to do is pray, the same as her Mother. This was one of those times when she was refusing to take her medication, even those medicines were provided for her. She was asked to leave the shelter after having a fight with another girl. She stayed overnight with her Brother but was asked to leave after more destructive behavior. When she collapsed in a store she was taken to the hospital where she died immediately. Now she is at peace. The rest of us will wonder what we could have done to be more helpful to her. Certainly the Family will grieve for the passing of Nikki and for the past many years where they tried unsuccessfully to help her. Life is strange, and sometimes out of our control. We at the Bethesda Gateway office with to keep the Family in our thoughts and prayers.

November 20, 2008. Chevy Chase, Md. Bedford 2.

Our day started by going to Everitt, then we drove the thirty miles to Bedford to see a new art gallery, The Cabin Fever. The invitation was sent to the farm for an event for November 22nd, but the event was for Saturday night. This was a new gallery to us, so we went to check it out and discovered that the gallery had been open for thirteen months. It is a combined antique store and gallery and is owned by a couple who are both ministers in The Alliance church in town. The gallery is very well put together and we enjoyed seeing the art and the antiques. Next stop was lunch so we tried a new restaurant just down the street. It is amazing how good food can be so tasteless. While were in Bedford we decided to walk around the block and discovered two other art galleries on the side street, which used to be the main drag but now has two large empty buildings. Finding new treasures when you thought you knew everything about Bedford is a real pleasure. I know I am easily amused but I love finding something new and beautiful right in front of your eyes.

One of the galleries has been in business 22 years. The owner was there so we talked with her for a long time about the art scene in Bedford. Many artists live and work in this part of Pennsylvania and the art of her walls are primarily local, with a smattering of west coast artists. The watercolor painting we bought from her is charming, and pictures Canada Geese . It hangs on our bedroom wall now. This is more like a big city gallery with paintings way out of our price range, but true to form, we purchased a live local artist who has not yet developed a wide reputation. Just down the street was another gallery, where the husband of the artist runs the store while the artist paints. Most of the art on the walls are from the same very good lady. They close the gallery at the end of November and move to Florida for the winter, where she paints and sells her work at craft shows. They opened their gallery in Bedford just 10 months ago after running galleries in two other small cities in Pennsylvania. Of course, we bought two small paintings, to take with us to Mississippi.

As we completed our walk around the block, we saw a sign that said "Fruit and Vegetables", even though this store was a drive through beverage store. So in we go and discover a cooler full of fruit and vegetables, some of which we bought. Next we saw a sign for apples ten miles up the road, so out we go and after getting a bit lost we find a huge apple sorting and selling operation. For twenty dollars we bought three bushes of apples and one gallon of apple cider. We loved finding all these places in these old towns, all on a Saturday morning and afternoon. Now we are eating three apples each every day!!

November 19, 2008. Chevy Chase, Md. Bedford Again.

Last Saturday we had a picture to pick up at the framer in Everitt. Karen and Rodney own the business, called " Barber's Framing", while Rodney works four days at a monument and marble factory, where he makes headstones with fancy pictures for graves. The rest of his time he makes frames and mats. He also paints and carves wood. He is very talented. Karen runs the business and gives Rodney advice on the mats. We take all our photographs and paintings to them for framing, because they do a wonderful job and of course, they are less expensive than the framers in Bethesda. The photographer across the street referred them to us, after he had taken our family photo at the farm. The Barbers have been our framers ever since, in fact , now I just give the piece to Karen and leave it, and they choose the mats and frames. They are both in their early 50s, I think, and a very good looking couple they are. In fact, it is kind of funny, because we live in the city but come in looking like we live on the farm, while they both look very stylish and modern. It looks as if the situations are reversed. They are good friends of Patty Jay, the youngest daughter of our farmer friends. Patty and her husband and their children live in Clearville.

Rodney always sketched and painted with watercolors as a child, The first art work he did as an adult was pencil and paper drawings of birds and ducks, and they were the first pieces he sold. I bought several of his prints. They are very good. My collection of drawings is small but growing. One day I asked if he would consider painting our farm house. The house is charming, with porches on three sides and dormers on the third floor, and I have no other pictures of this home. One Sunday after church they came down to take a bunch of photographs and he agreed to do his best. Two years later it was finished and now hangs on our wall in the apartment. He painted the house in oil, the first time he had ever painted in that medium. Since then he has a half a dozen of his oil paintings for sale in their shop and he submitted two paintings to a local show. This Saturday I bought his latest painting of a tree in the woods. It is wonderful and hangs in the spare bedroom in the hill house at the farm. He is improving with every venture, and it is exciting to see his talent blossom and grow. The next time you are in Everitt, on the main street you will find "Barber's Framing". Go in, and tell Karen that Ruth sent you. Then buy one of Rodney's paintings. You can afford it.

November 18, 2008. Chevy Chase, Md. Turkey Day.

It is not the real Turkey Day. That will be held next week. But today in our office we celebrated Turkey Day. Dennis is responsible. Four years ago he suggested that we serve turkey dinner in the office, so without any fan fair or publicity, a group of agents cooked and served a full turkey dinner to any agent in the office at that time. It was a surprise for all. Of course many agents were out on the road and missed the whole dinner, which made them feel left out. And I was out of town. The idea was so well received and enjoyed by everyone that the same agents agreed to do it again the next year, except now they would advertise the event to everyone, so of course more agents attended, so they ran out of food. The third year they got it right and this year, the fourth year of the event we served 125 agents a full and delicious turkey dinner in the office, complete with turkey and all the trimmings. In order to attend, the agents contribute canned goods that we donate to a food bank in Bethesda . Also, they bring home made desserts. It is one of the nicest events done in the year and is enjoyed by all. And of course, the food is delicious.

Now , how do they do it, working from a very small kitchen with no stove? Every year, the group putting on the dinner becomes more efficient, so by now, I can tell the world their system. Dennis and Mario have always been the cooks of the turkeys. They buy and bake two turkeys each at home the morning of the event, and they make the gravy at home too. The first two years they carved the turkeys in the office, which was messy, so last year they carved the turkeys at home, made the gravy too, then brought both into the office in tinfoil containers. Dennis bought several serving trays with heat source underneath, so the large work table is lined on both sides with all the food, with the Thanksgiving decorations down the center. Mario also cooks the sweet potatoes at home. Regina, Carol, Sally, Ruby and Chris do everything else. They bring in hot pots to heat the vegetables of green beans and corn, and they make the mashed potatoes in the office using a ready made mix and a mixer. Salad and rolls and cranberry complete the dinner. This is an amazing event. We serve at 12;30, and by 2:30 it is all cleaned up. And I can tell you, that by 12:15 the agents were lined up ready to eat, because as I said before, we did run out of food. This year the quantities were perfect, so by the time I served tea at four o'clock, there were only a few pieces of pumpkin pie left on the kitchen table. This dinner was enjoyed by all the agents, and gives us a head start on our holiday season. This all comes about because one person, Dennis, gets a good idea, and several other people agree to help out, while all the rest of us enjoy the delicious turkey dinner. All we the Managers do is reimburse the good folks for their supplies. It is an special event in the office.

November 17, 2008. Chevy Chase, Md. Apple Butter.

What were they doing in the shed? Several peoples faces could be seen, along with a large pot being stirred over an open fire. The person stirring the pot was Erin who is nine years old. Ken and I recognized several of the people but could not figure out what they were doing, so we sat in the truck for a few moments to try to figure it out... but we gave up. The handle for stirring was made of wood with a handle at least ten feet long. The stirring part was a solid piece of wood about one foot long and four inches across, so stirring the large pot was not easy. When we went into the shed it was obvious by the smell that apple butter was being made, the same way as the apple butter had been made on that farm for the past four generations. All the people there were are friends, consisting of two older ladies and one daughter and one daughter-in-law, plus Alan the farmer along with two other men and as is the custom, two children. They have been at it all day. First the apples must be well washed and cut into quarters with the core cut out. They start with a bushel of apples. With a small amount of water they boil down the apples, using the large copper pot over the open fire. A stand holds the pot over the fire. After the apples are soft the apples are put through a type of sieve to separate the peel from the fruit. Then the apple mix goes back into the clean copper pot and starts cooking and cooking and cooking, of course being stirred all the time. Of yes, sugar is added to the pot. When they started out, the pot was full, but by the time I arrived, the pot was half full.

I arrived just when all these good folks were gearing up to pour the finished apple butter into all the jars which were all lined up on the tables. Of course, being a city person, I had dozens of questions about the process, the most important was "how do you know when the apple butter if ready to put into the bottles?" I received many answers, none quite the same. I did get the important information from Patty that one year the apple butter was poured too soon and the jars all went rancid. Everyone had a different answer, but finally they all agreed that now was the time to pour it up so we all sprang to action. I dipped the apple butter out of the big pot as that required the least amount of expertise while the four adult women poured the apple butter into the jars and put on the lids and ring, all the while one of the men kept stirring the big pot. It was quite an operation. One of the most interesting aspects of this whole operation was that this could have been 1908, and probably was done exactly the same way. The long wooden stirrer was probably the same one, as was the large copper pot. The worst thing for me is that I don't even like apple butter... but I surely loved being part of the process.

November 16, 2008. Chevy Chase, Md. My Life.

Every two years I am required to renew my real estate license, and during that time period, I must take 15 years of continuing education classes. This is not difficult because once a month we give classes in the office. Jeannie, one of our very experienced agents organizes the classes for all the agents, for which we are all very grateful. The classes are held once a month for ten times. August and December we hold no training classes at all, as the training team takes a well deserved break. During the two years for my renewal, thirty hours of classes were held in the office. In addition, classes are given at Realtor Fair and the National Convention, so normally I have many more credit hours that necessary to renew my license. Until not that is. Regina informed me at the beginning of October that I had no credit hours. None. How could this have happened? Why did I allow myself to be under the gun? Total stupidity, that is the only answer.

Now I am racing from one class to another, to try to get my classes completed prior to December 6. Friday morning at seven o'clock a.m. I was in my place in an office in Wheaton, along with eight other sleepy folks, to obtain three hours under my belt. Wednesday afternoon I obtained four and one half hours, all taught by one older man who taught many incorrect bits of information. Only once did I feel the need to make one correction. Regina has set up my schedule so I will have my classes completed in time, but it leaves me running hither and yon from morning to night. One lady from Damascas was at the early session, and told me that she always completes all her hours in one long session. On Friday she will sit in class all day, and finally will finish the full fifteen hours at 11:00 p.m.. I asked her why she does it this way, and she says tjat she liked it that way. Now I bring paper work with me, that I can complete with out bothering the class. Of course I must be careful to sit behind a large person. I signed Christmas cards in both classes. I asked this all day lady what she was bringing to keep herself awake all day and evening. She said that she brings only snacks and juice, but she tries to keep alert by becoming involved with the class and the teacher. Now that was a novel approach for me, because I try hard to try not to interact with the teacher, because when they find out where I work, they ask me lots and lots of questions, and when they find our that I am a Manager in that office, they start asking me to answer all the questions. So I have learned to keep a low profile and keep quiet, and keep signing my cards or write my notes.

This year I have accepted the lesson. I am now humbled, but next year I will pay attention throughout the year and I will attend the classes in the office. I promise. In addition, Regina is going to be on my case and we do not mess with Regina!!

November 14, 2008. Memory. Chevy Chase, Md.

How can a person who does the same thing every day forget to do it today? How can the brain just forget tonight? I am always amazed with my morning ablutions. My pattern has not varied for the past fifty years or more, but every so often I just leave something out. Some days I forget to clean my glasses just after showering, and sometimes I even forget to brush my hair. By now my routine should be so ingrained that I can carry out my pattern in my sleep, but it is not so easy. It seems that when an activity is performed in the same way every day we often can not remember whether or not we have done the activity at all. This is why the boxes of pills are prevalent. It is always interesting to me why these routine regular activities are not memorable. I do know from new research that the reason we can remember the major events in our lives that stay with us forever is that the event triggers activity in the part of our brain that deals with the emotions. Our memory of why we know exactly what you were doing when you heard of the shooting of Pres. Kennedy is because you had a strong emotional response to the event, which seems to put the memory strongly into your long term memory. More and more discoveries come out all the time, so maybe when I am 80 I will be able to remember everything I ever knew.

Last night I just forgot to write my little web log. In the middle of the night I awoke with a start to realize that I omitted to complete my tasks for the day. Now this does not please me. It is one thing to decide not to write a blog today, but to just forget to write my small blog makes me thing I am getting old and forgetful. But I think it is the opposite. I have made my writing routine for the past 11 months so much a part of my routine that I am not connecting to my emotional center, and I am running on automatic pilot, just with my morning routines. I am going to decide that this is a good thing and has nothing about my age or infirmity. The whole question of intellect is difficult, as is memory. I can recognize high intellect when I see it but I certainly don't know how it happens. The other part of memory is that it takes about six weeks to develop a routine, but after a while you can't recall whether you have competed the task or not.

Your body certainly remembers what has happened to your body. After just one week of exercise, I developed a training effect. My heart rate fell with the same work load. In other words, in order to keep my heart rate up to a target rate, I was forced to work harder. This tells me that my memory is not as good as the cells in my body. Just amazing.

November 11, 2008. Chevy Chase, Md. Southwest.

They treat you as if they are pleased to see you when you walk onto the plane. They speak to every passenger welcoming you on the plane. Even tho the job is very boring and repetitive they act as if they love their job. During the course of a three hour flight they come to ask if we wanted another glass of water, in addition to the full beverage service. They make jokes and have fun with each other and with the passengers, which makes the trip seem to go faster. Now I am speaking of the attendants on the Southwest flight from San Antonio to Baltimore. The real question to ask is why all air-lines attendants treat the customers like that? I have been on many airplanes and have met up with pleasant and polite air hostesses and I have met with the surly types, but it is only on Southwest that you are treated as if you were special to them. In truth, the passenger is important, because we pay the salary of the staff, but often they get it all backwards.

I know the Southwest system would not work for every air-line, but the attitude of the attendants shown on Southwest flights should be normal for every air-hostess, not be so unusual that you notice when they do it right. I often wonder if the attitude and service are never taught, or that no one notices at the top levels to impress on the staff the importance of kindly enthusiastic attitudes on the staff. We have all experienced watching when a passenger is treated in an ungracious manner, where the hostess is down right surly. I should be grateful for the blessings of the day, when the three attendants on one flight had a fine job of making every customer feel special. We all left the plane with a smile on our faces, determined to fly on Southwest again.

I am told that service on airplanes will get worse not better over the next few years, but I think that if we try harder, we can get all airlines to teach their staff to adopt the mentality of the Southwest staff. We can do it if we try.

November 10, 2008. San Antonio, Texas. Pictures.

Yesterday, while sitting in my bedroom at the Lake, I admired and enjoyed all the Family photographs on the wall. My prim and elegant Grandmother Houghton was there along with a picture of my parents, Norman and Frances Buckley, taken when they lived in Peterbouough shortly after they retired. They looked very happy with their arms around each other, but I know that my Father did not enjoy retirement and soon took another appointment; then he died. And there is a photo of my Sister Carol and me, each holding a cat and dog, with Carol firmly holding unto my arm to keep me in place. We had visited a farm outside of Calgary, run by Salvation Army friends as a prisoner of war camp, so it must have been 1945. Of course the modern pictures are represented too, the boys as children and then their own families too, along with a wonderful picture of Ken as a baby. He was a beautiful baby. My favorite picture of all is a picture of three ladies, two young and one older, taken with just the head and shoulders with all smiling and looking happy. I am so very fortunate to have two wonderful daughters-in-law, who I love dearly, and the picture of these good folks, Suzanne and Christina, remind me how much I appreciate their presence in my life.

From the time we moved to Texas in 1964,Ken and I never lived in any town with relatives, so when the boys grew up, I collected a lot of family photographs to allow the boys to see who the relatives were and what they looked like, even if the pictures were on their bathroom walls. I liked having these pictures on the walls, so I have continued the custom everywhere. When you come to visit me, you will find photographs of our families usually assembled in one or two spots and very often in the bathroom. I like to look at the pictures of these folks old and new, and remind me of the impact on my life from their life. I have just hung the pictures from our 50Th, and they will remind me of a happy time. It was a great idea many years ago, and it is a great idea today. These photographs on my walls give me great pleasure.

November 8, 2008. Harper, Texas Double D.

On the first floor I am reading "My Grandfather's Son", by Clarence Thomas, and upstairs in the bedroom "Miles Gone By" by William Buckley. The contrast in style and content is dramatically different from one floor to the next, which gives added pleasure to the reading. Most folks read these books when published, but as usual, I am just getting around to reading them and I am glad I did, because I never would have read them together. If you missed them before, now would be the time. Compare and contrast is the name of the game, just as in school except from the years of knowledge accumulated by the reader makes for more understanding and criticism. The question of how people get to be where they are is endlessly intriguing to me, so reading about these two individuals well known to me is fascinating and rewarding.

The ranch needed our attention yesterday. The old blue carpet was replaced by ceramic tiles in the living and dining rooms, also the kitchen and breakfast room, all done while we were in Mexico, so we needed to pay the bill, pick up the key and then put the house back in proper order. Now David was at the ranch on Thursday, the opening of deer season, and he reported that everything was back in order with all furniture in place...but I knew that could not be true. It took me about an hour to put everything in it's proper place. You know the drill, two feet here and six inches there makes all the difference with function and style. The carpet was good carpet but was installed in 1981 and was blue, so it was time to say goodbye to this ugly carpet. Now the ranch house looks great, but of course, now we need area rugs. We will watch to see how the girls use the floors before doing anything else. Ken is busy installing small heaters in the pump houses, as winter will come soon to the Hill Country. The cows have been fed twice, in fact, Ken is like the Pied Piper, in that the cattle follows him on the Mule, where ever he goes, hoping for another treat.

This is a beautiful day at the Ranch. Blue sky with not a cloud in sight, and 75 degrees. Perfect weather indeed. But now we drive to the lake to check out that place and close it up, before going to spend the rest of the weekend with David and Suzanne and the girls. In Texas, we seem to always go from one place to the next. But I am taking both books with me when we leave the ranch. I want to finish them when we leave on Tuesday for home. Oh, and David did get a big deer.

November 7, 2008. Harper, Texas. Travel.

It is very interesting to watch people on airplanes and in terminals. They provide unlimited entertainment. One young man of 25 or so was getting ready to get off the plane, arriving in San Antonio. The plane had landed but was not yet at the gate. First he put on his sunglasses, next his dark green English touring cap with peak, then a wool scarf that he hung around his neck. The pilot had just given a weather check to tell the temperature was 85 degrees. Then he folded the scarf in two around his neck and proceeded to tuck the loose end through the folded end. But that was clearly too hot so he went back to just hanging the scarf around his neck. All these options in a space of five minutes. The scarf had large stripes, one color matching the hat. And of course, all the time punching out his blackberry. What was he thinking, to wear a wool scarf at 85 degrees? And why so much concern with his appearance?

Another lady was being pushed through the terminal by an attendant. She was wearing dark glasses. Her feet were on the foot rests and her bags were on her lap. Her blue skirt had buttons down the front and most buttons were open, leaving her underwear exposed to the public. It was an astonishing thing to watch this well dressed lady have her under pants open to the assembled hosts, as she was pushed toward the gate by the attendant. Didn't she ever look down at her lap and button her buttons?

The best sight was driving up the road, to see a statute on top of the mail box, sitting cross-legged with arms on knees. The taxi driver asked if he should stop at the house with the statute, and we said yes. This was Samantha, waiting to greet us on our arrival. Now that is the most interesting part of the day.

November 5, 2008. Mexico. Second World War.

I have been spending a lot of time reading about the Second World War, and the effect of the ordinary people. First with the Snoring Bird, and now "The Spies of Warsaw", by Alan Furst. He is writing now, but writes about the spies and the espionage that want on before and during the Second World War. He is a very good writer but I only want to read about one book a year by him and now is the time. I have fifty pages to go to finish before we leave tomorrow, so I must read quickly. We will leave it here as Ken has not read it yet. Of course, I already read the last two chapters before I first began at the beginning.

Then when sitting by the pool, I shameless eavesdropped on a conversation going on two chairs away from between two men. Their conversation was not interesting, but the accent of the one older man intrigued me, because I could not figure it out. I knew the two men were Canadians, from British Columbia, but I could not tell whether the older man was Scottish or Italian. Of course, after the one younger man left, I just called over and asked where he was born. He was a very nice friendly man and came over to chat with me. Soon Ken arrived so we talked for quite a long time and got his whole life story, which brings me back to the war. He was born and raised on a farm in northern Italy in 1936. After the war the economy in Italy was bad, so he and one brother moved to Canada in 1954, married a Canadian woman and settled in Kamloops, where he lives today. He and his wife built and ran a motel for years, and turned it over to one of his sons. His other brother lives in Kelowna and has been successful too. His wife died two years ago so he is still recovering from the loss. You can tell he was lonely and eager to talk. The one brother who remained in Italy sold the family land and went into business and now is the most wealthy of the three brothers, which is interesting. In the mid 70's his Italian brother tried to talk them into coming back to Italy to work in the business, but he said no. But he told us that if the war had not happened, he would never have moved to Canada.

Now we move to Texas, to see those four little girls. They are quite a package.

November 4, 2008. Mexico. A Good Restaurant.

It is difficult to go to a new restaurant with friends, unless we are paying the bill. Many times when we dine out with friends, we just split the bill and everyone is happy, but both friends know the restaurant and the quality and expense of the food. We are always reluctant to suggest dining out with friends at a new restaurant that we know is probably expensive and yet might not be good. It is our habit to go to a new restaurant with just the two of us, so we can check out the food, the expense and the service. Sunday night we dined at a new restaurant in Bucerias, Mark's Place. This place is on every ones list of best places to dine, but it is not open for lunch, the time we prefer to eat out, so we had passed it by until a time when we were by ourselves.

Sunday night was the night. I would recommend this restaurant to anyone. The place is lovely, all open to the air, although half of the restaurant has a roof, with masses of plantings and trees all around. The service was attentive and pleasant. Our waiter was telling us the specials for the evening, and continued to look down to his paper in his hand, even though only two specials were on the menu. I saw him though out the evening, as he was looking after other patrons, consulting his cheat sheet for the particulars of the contents of the dishes and I was very empathetic. The meal was wonderful, all three courses full. My custom is to eat mussels in Nova Scotia, but I ate mussels as an appetizer. They were spicy and delicious. Ken ate their special of seared tuna, while I ate black olive pesto pasta with chicken. My biscoti and coffee reminded me that soon I am hoping I will be able to eat Marios Christmas biscoti, because his is better. The restaurant, Mark's Place is a wonderful restaurant and would be a welcome addition in any city in the world. It is always a pleasure to find fine food in unexpected places.

November 3, 2008. Mexico. An Excursion.

We started out at 7:15 to take a walk before breakfast. We arrived back home at 1:30. Fortunately we did have breakfast in Brucerias. In true Mexican style, we walked into this charming restaurant called Karen's,right on the water, at 11:45, and they immediately brought us a breakfast menu. Now at home the lunch menu would have been the one to bring, but I guess they knew we were too hungry for lunch. Andy would have hated this walk, as would every other of our friends and relatives, but we loved it. In addition to the long walk all the way to Bucarias on the beach, we found a place to eat where you watch the chef cook a three course meal, while we drink champagne, then we then sit down and eat all together, along with the chef and his wife, accompanied by two wines. It is called Le Fort De Cuisine. We saw the sign while walking on the sidewalk in Bucerias. We had never heard of the place, so I pushed the button for information. Much to my surprise, the lady of the house answered and came down to invite us into the restaurant, even though the restaurant was not open. We chatted for quite a while, and decided to come to have dinner in January, mainly because they take only cash, and we travel with little cash. But we will return. She also told us about Karen's Cafe, a place we would have never found on our own. Although the walk was long and hot, the rewards were great.

I do not like walking on the beach. The surface is always tipped. Sand gets in your shoes. The shade is lacking. The rest rooms are not to be found. On the other hand, the surf pours into the shore, and the birds fish all along the waters edge. Yesterday, we decided to walk all the way to Bucerias, on the beach. It is the most direct path, so we wanted to walk along the shore and eat in Bucerias, then take a cab back home. Today I agreed to try, even though I do not like to walk long distances on the beach. Paseo de la Marina is a new condo project on the beach, half way between us and our destination, and the front patio chairs looked very inviting, so we talked with the sales lady and toured their model kitchens and bathrooms. The project is big, and half sold out, but we were not interested in the purchase. We just wanted to rent their chairs for a short time.

I think the only folks willing to carry on the excursion to the bitter end would be Dave and Irene. They have been with us on many wild goose chases, and the end always justifies the means. But it requires a great deal of faith.

We ended up taking the bus back here from Buciarias, the first time we have done it without error. It was a good excursion, even though it was very tiring.

November 1, 2008. Mexico. Hacienda

The home was built over two hundred years ago. I wonder what will be done with this lovely
home in the future. The home was built in the typical Spanish style, with a very large courtyard in the center with every room coming out from the courtyard. The first floor rooms are totally open to the courtyard and to each other, so the first floor traffic flow is always easy. Of course the ceiling are high, about twenty feet on the first floor and fifteen on the second, and the walls are very thick, made of hand made bricks covered with thick plaster, making the walls over two feet deep. Even with the heat of the day, the interior rooms were cool. This home is now lived in by one woman, so most of the rooms are closed. One room on the first floor is used as a bedroom, and all the other bedrooms are on the second floor, which has a balcony overlooking the courtyard. This is a large home and this is a beautiful home.

Nothing has changed. The locks on the doors are original, the doors are original, the windows are few and covered with iron grates, typical of the Spanish style. Many pieces of furniture seem to be very old. In total, there are three dining rooms. The first large room is furnished with very heavy furniture. The table seats twenty, with a buffet almost as long. The adjacent dining room seats twelve, with furniture to match, while the third room is more a breakfast room adjacent to the kitchen. The kitchens, of which there were two, are not modern by our standards, but they are both large. No dishwashers in sight. One of the living rooms was furnished with leather objects while the smaller of the two has just been set up with modern plush furniture, including a TV. Now this single lady lives in this very large home all by herself. Her daughter and her family built a house several hundred yards away, and the property manager lives and works at the head office the other side of the daughters home, so she is not alone.

Our driver took us to his friend yesterday. Her husband is deceased, but their families have been good friends for many generations. The husband's family owned a huge tract of land, from their home to the mountains, a distance of many miles. They ranched and farmed, and then as the population grew, they sold off some of the land just along the road, so now they are very rich, and they no longer ranch. They do lease the land for the production of fruit and vegetables. Now what is going to be done with this very beautiful old fashioned house? I loved seeing the house and meeting the lady of the house, who is called old but is younger than me. The driver did not even know about my association with houses, and there I was, opening all these huge doors to see what was behind them. It is my guess that the house is worth preserving, but a lot of money is needed to bring it up to modern standards, even tho the house seems to be in good structural shape. I hope they spend the money and I hope they invite me back to see the finished product. I like this house.