Celia's Blue Planet

My Photo
Name:
Location: Washington, United States

Trying to live the Zen of aging.

Thursday, March 22, 2012

Snow!


I woke up at 5am because of a lot of light outside and peeked through the curtains to see snow falling.  By six it looked like this.

My grandgirl Isabel stayed the night with me and was she surprised when she got up.  She said it looked like Christmas except we didn't have snow Christmas day.  We made blueberry pancakes with scrambled eggs and then I went out to sweep off the steps and the car so I could get her to kinder on time.  We were a couple of minutes late but no one really cared.  Now the sky is blue and the sun is out. The daffodils and the crocus are still there.

This is the Pergola in Pioneer Park where my youngest son got married quite awhile ago. Thanks to Walla Walla United Good Neighbors for this picture.  Beautiful.


Thursday, March 8, 2012

I have a tiny bathroom and a tinier half bath in my bedroom.  My grandmother's bathrooms were both very large. 

Grandma Laura's was built as a lean-to type room by Grandpa onto the house where they ultimately raised their family, all plumbed, wired and built by him.  There was a huge claw foot tub against an outer wall by a window that looked out at an apple tree.  It grew from a seed my Dad planted.   Once a year or so Grandpa would "calcimine" the sink and the tub, filling in the chips and covering the stains.  Heat was supplied by a little electric heater.  Once you got out of the water there really wasn't enough heat to encourage lingering. There was a dresser with a mirror over it that contained things like shaving paraphenalia, bicarbonate of soda, bobbie pins, hearing aid batteries, and Grandma's chocolate diet candy, Ayds, anyone remember those? There was supposed to be some kind of appetite supressant in it.  The powers that be probably wouldn't let anyone sell it now.  All thirteen of her grandkids raided that "candy" box.  I don't recall it slowing my appetite any.  There was not much in the way of prescriptions or over-the-counter meds.  When my little sister ate Grandma Laura's mothballs the cure was a large quantity of soapy water.  It is a testimony to the quality of my sister's constitution that even a finger in her throat made neither the soapy water or the moth balls reappear.  They must have taken the usual trip out the other end.  She's the same sister who swallowed a nickle.  Dad drilled a hole in it when it was recaptured and she wore it on a string around her neck for awhile.  No wonder I lock everything up in my house, but I digress.

Grandma Grace lived in the big city and had a more standard bathroom.  We used to live with her at times when Dad was traveling or when we were moving.  This bathroom came with the house but had almost the same furnishings, a claw foot tub, a pedestal sink with a mirrored cabinet, the potty, and also a dresser with things in it.  It had an electric socket near the sink and the same little mothball sister, ever up for adventure, stuck the business end of hair pin into it.  It just sparked a little.  Grandma Grace had been a nurse at one time and her bathroom was loaded.  Hot water bottles, syringes, strange substances in jars and pots, a glass eye cup which I still have, potions, lotions, and cures.  She also wore makeup unlike Grandma Laura but all that stuff lived in her bedroom.  There was a nice window near the potty where you could gaze out across the backyard and enjoy the view down into the backyards below.  The house was, still is, on a sloped hill in Portland, Oregon.  We were told never to lock the door and even though I was 6, and little sister was 4, we could lock but not unlock the darned thing after it was turned.  We were shown how but it stuck with our little fingers.  Of course one morning we both went in and locked it anyway.  Little sister would not get off the potty so I gave up and sat in the sink and peed.  That got her off the john, she ran to the door to tattle but oh, oh, we were locked in.  Mom and Grandma tried and tried to tell us how to unlock it, but knowing how and doing it are two different things.  Fortunately Dad was with us so he explained in his long scholarly way how he was going to put a ladder up from the back window and we were to open the window and let him in.  Things get a little blurry after that.  We, I, couldn't get the window open right away and Dad was not a patient man.  Finally I managed to stand/climb up on the window still, and clinging to the window frame like a spider monkey got the latch on the window undone.  Dad had to put the window up himself as it was beyond me by then, he was making me nervous and was trying not to hollar as he hollared about how he'd told us "NOT TO LOCK THE D***ED BATHROOM DOOR."  After he got inside he calmed down, opened the door.  Being the oldest "you shoulda known better," I ran out to my Grandmother just in case he changed his mind, and got mad again.  She liked him but she liked me better.

Long story short, everything suspect is in my personal bathroom hopefully out of the reach of my grands and the lock on the door was disabled quite awhile ago.  My makeup, not much really, is all in the main bathroom, and I guess if someone decorates themselves I don't mind so much as long as no one eats it.


Today is the day of the full moon for March and it comes my oldest younger sister's birthday. Grace, I wish you a most happy birthday and many more to come. Our youngest lives were lived together and for the most part we are the only witnesses to those little girls' existence. May that sweet little girl who whistled in church live on in you forever.

Monday, March 5, 2012

Pablo Picasso

"We should not write so that it is possible for the reader to understand us, but so that it is impossible for him to misunderstand us." -Quintilian (Marcus Fabius Quintilianus), rhetorician (c. 35-100)

Sunday, March 4, 2012

It's very sunny today so I got my camera out and roamed around my messy backyard to see if there was any good news going on other than the replacement fence.  There is, little purple crocus are pushing the way out under the clematis that I neglected to cut back last fall.  When I lived in Seattle in a former life, there was a boulevard, Ravenna, with a broad stretch of grass between the traffic lanes.  Someone had planted purple and yellow crocus in with the grass.  I could hardly wait for them to bloom each spring, cheering us on until the mower came in, I should do that here. 
Just off to the side of the crocus is this little flower.  It actually pushed through during the last of the snow.  Now it's bloomed.  I have no idea what it is or how it got here.  I have some pink mallow that showed up that way last fall, fell out the sky I guess.  With all the little birds here, that is an actual possibility.  I just hope this little spot of sunshine doesn't turn up on the noxious weed list.  As you can see, I haven't gotten all the leaves out of my yard.  I finally just decided to call it mulch and call it good. 
I tried very hard not to complain about the weather here this winter.  I mostly succeeded and after the snow, floods, and tornadoes the rest of our country is suffering from, I think complaining may done for good.  I hope you and yours are safe today.