Earlier in the week, I wrote about my visit to Los Angeles to visit Teri and family. There were a few things I left out as it was getting too long. But I’ll mention a couple of them now. In the above picture, Willie, the family dog, is lying on what was my bed at night – it was his during the day. I took Harry’s picture when we were seated in Damon’s Steakhouse. Harry had pulled his bangs off his face, at our request, so he was having an easier time of it when he was eating.

One evening Teri, Mark and I reminisced about some of the crazy times they had had with Harry in the previous years. When he was about 5 or 6, Teri was working for a big company in the city where she works now. Occasionally she would bring Harry to work with her and he’d play in her office which was quite big. One day Harry went down the hall to the bathroom, and Teri had forgotten that he always took off all his clothes when he went poop. After a while she heard people talking and laughing outside her office, and when she stepped out she saw chubby, sweaty, red-faced Harry running down the hallway stark naked! He didn’t seem bothered by it at all and didn’t even realize or care he’d forgotten to get dressed.

Another time when Harry was visiting Teri’s office, he was playing in the hall outside her door where there was a big meeting being held in one of the rooms. Harry was running all over the place, and Teri finally heard someone yell, “Will someone please come and get Huck Finn out of the hallway?” Harry still sometimes goes with her to work, but now he skateboards outside and I don’t think ever takes off all his clothes when he goes to the bathroom. But then I’m not there so I can’t say for sure.

We spent some time looking at “Open Houses” on the weekend. One was on a hillside with many levels and a pool way down at the bottom level. I asked Teri if they ever had a pool, could I go skinny dipping since I don’t have a suit and don’t plan to get one. She said I could . . . and then rolled her eyes. That was good enough for me.

There was a very interesting article in the “Parade” magazine recently by Dr. Henry S. Lodge. If I can’t read the “Parade” every Sunday, it’s all downhill from that point on.
This article was telling people how to stop normal aging by taking control of your life and exercising. You replace about 1% of your cells every day, and you choose whether they grow or decay each day from then on. To quote the article: “Exercise, and your cells get strong; sit down, and they decay.” That was enough for me! I jumped up from my chair, grabbed a jacket and caught a bus downtown. When I got there, I walked several blocks to Nordstrom which was very good exercise for me. I happened to walk by the department where I’ve purchased jeans before – now I’m wearing jeans I found at Goodwill. So I went in and found a pair my size, but too expensive. However, I tried them on and they fit perfectly. I asked the sales clerk if they would shrink as these fit perfectly, and she assured me they would not. I told her the ones I had purchased before were so tight after I washed them that I had to lie down on my back on my bed so my stomach would flatten out just to zip them up. Once that was done, they stretched out enough so I didn’t have to go through that until the next washing. I thought everyone did that, but the sales clerk got a glazed look in her eyes and did not respond, so I let the whole matter drop. I got the jeans, sailed out of the store and walked several blocks back to the bus. Now that’s what I call good exercise.

Earlier this month I mentioned my tomato plants I’m growing right beside me in the window of my computer room. They are now getting long and spindly, so I went to the garden shop and bought two of the wire cones that you put around them. As I was transplanting them and fitting the cones over each one, I think I broke one of the stems. I’ll have to wait and see if it’s dead. I hope it’s not. The woman at the garden store was very surprised to think I was growing them indoors, but I assured her they had plenty of sun from the windows. But then she said they would have to be fertilized like with bees! BEES? I don’t think so! Apparently they won’t have tomatoes if this doesn’t happen which I think is a really stupid idea. No way will I have bees in my house – they scare me to death. I once grabbed a strange man off the street to come into my house to kill a bee. I don’t know if he was actually strange, but he did the deed and then quickly disappeared. Can’t say as I blame him. So the garden clerk and I discussed artificial insemination which can be done. So when and if they have blooms, I will be the Artificial Inseminator. It sounds like some sort of great title, doesn’t it? She said tomato plants have both male and female blooms on the same plant, and she told me how to tell them apart. I hope I can rise to the occasion when it’s time! I actually put a masking tape bandage on the broken stem but I could tell it wasn’t working, so I cut the stem off at the break and put it in water. I’ll see what happens to it. I was born on a farm, and maybe I’m returning to my roots in my own little condo in the city. I wonder if I could get a chicken in here?

Last week I visited Teri, Mark and Harry in Los Angeles. The weather was good and I had a wonderful time. I had hoped the cats would have learned how to use the toilet since my last visit, but no such luck. However, Lizzie and Angie are fascinated with all the goings on in the bathroom. When I’d use the toilet, there would always be little black paw prints all over the seat. And when I’d start going, Lizzie would come racing in and try to get behind me. Well, I couldn’t have that, so I’d push her away. But as soon as I stood up and flushed, she jumped up on the seat and watched the water swirling round and round as it emptied. It doesn’t take much to amuse those cats. All you have to do is go to the bathroom frequently . . . or just continuously!

One afternoon we went to the Huntington Gardens in San Marino. It is an estate built by Henry Huntington in 1919. He was a very successful businessman who filled the property with buildings for art, libraries, research centers, gardens and much more. But the gardens are the best part - they’re so beautiful and unusual. I spent most of my time in the Desert Garden area. I had never seen so many beautiful cacti. Some were huge and looked soft and sort of feathery, but when I touched them it felt like little tiny knives were sticking into my skin. We also saw the lily ponds with fish and the turtles lying on the bank in the sun. I love turtles and wanted to bring one home, but I was restrained by my family.

Harry has grown and matured so much in such a short time. He’s now taller than I, but then nearly everyone is. He looks like a teenager but he’s not yet 12 Time goes entirely too fast. One day Harry tried out for a spot on a city parks league baseball team. I thought he looked very good. So the next day, we went to a park where Harry and Mark threw the baseball back and forth until they could get up to the plate after the others had left. Harry really threw that ball hard and fast, and it seemed to go forever. When Harry started batting, I went into the field to save Mark from having to run out there from the pitcher’s mound. I picked up the first ball and threw it, overhand, as hard as I could, and it went about 10 feet and fell to the ground like a rock! I was embarrassed, to say the least, and tried once more with the same results. I felt like a real weakling! Harry said I threw like a girl which makes a lot of sense.

After baseball practice, we went to Damon’s Steakhouse in Glendale where they have a great Tiki bar. As we ate, we kept telling Harry to get his hair out of his mouth as he was eating it along with his food! His bangs are really long as is the rest of his hair. He looks like a surfer with his blond, streaked (natural) hair. I’m sure one of these days Teri will call and tell me they had to take him to the vet to have a hair ball removed from his stomach!

The above picture of Teri, Harry and Mark was taken in the Huntington Gardens. And I did make chicken divan for Mark and spam and chocolate cookies and whipped cream for Harry. Teri and I had girl time or woman time . . . what do you call it anyway . . . together, shopping and having lunch on the street in Beverly Hills. Not actually in the street . . . on the sidewalk. I doubt they allow street eating at tables on the streets of Beverly Hills, but you never know. All in all, it was a wonderful and fun visit.

I first read about the Grand Canyon Skywalk in “The Oregonian” but then went to the internet and found an article on “LA Times.com.” It seems that the Hualapai tribe has fastened a massive, multimillion-dollar glass walkway close to a mile above the Colorado River. They are hoping to have it open soon for business and bring many tourists to this struggling Indian tribe’s remote reservation. This will be one of the ways to address the social ills of the 2,000 residents of this small reservation where there is unemployment, alcoholism and poverty. I wonder if something similar could work at my condo complex? There is unemployment, some poverty and I’m sure some alcoholism. They also plan to build a 6,000 square-foot visitor center and restaurant. We wouldn’t have room for that where I live.

The Hualapai have tried for many years to bring more tourists to their 1-million-acre reservation. They charge for weddings on the canyon rim and even tried casino gambling, but nothing worked. So they decided three years ago to try something new and exciting, and this is both! The horseshoe-shaped glass walkway will jut out 70 feet beyond the canyon’s edge just west of Grand Canyon Village on the Hualapai Indian Reservation. It will be buttressed by 1 million pounds of steel and supporting 90 tons of tempered glass. Visitors will now have a breathtaking view of the canyon . . . for $25 each. I thought there were already many breathtaking views of the canyon

The pictures I’ve seen scare the crap out of me. I can’t imagine anyone in his right mind taking a walk on the glass walkway and being able to look a mile down! I don’t like being more than a foot off the ground except when I’m in a plane and it’s absolutely necessary. Then I pretend I’m on a train which sometimes isn’t much better. It works for a while until I realize I’m not seeing any scenery passing by when I look out the window. That’s freak-out time! I’m sure there will be people lining up to risk their lives for a few thrills. What if it breaks and everyone goes plummeting to the canyon floor? What if someone gets a panic attack and starts acting all goofy . . . what then? And I’m wondering if there will be paparazzi below in the canyon with their telescopic lenses trained up to the Skywalk, hoping to catch someone who didn’t wear her panties that day. And would these pantyless girls have a Brazilian bikini wax before they walked the Skywalk? If Britney shows up without her panties, do you think we’d see it on “Entertainment Tonight” and in the tabloids? Absolutely!

I’ve recently heard it is now open and people are actually walking out on it. I really don’t care as I would never go near it. I wouldn’t even go near the Grand Canyon.

I’m going to be in Los Angeles with Teri, Mark and Harry and their 4 cats and one dog for a few days. At least I think that’s the extent of their family unless they’ve been to a shelter someplace and come home with another animal like they occasionally do. The last time I was visiting, there was a bad scene concerning the many litter boxes they had in their house. I’m hoping enough time has elapsed that all the animals have learned to use the toilet like the rest of the family does. How long does it take anyway?

I’m going to be very busy as they have many things planned for us to do, one of which will be a pedicure for me and a massage for Teri. I’m really looking forward to that as I love to have someone rub my feet – I get tired of doing it myself. I’m also going to cook Mark’s favorite dish – chicken divan – one night. He already reminded me that was the only reason he agreed to my visit – chicken divan. I’m hoping Harry doesn’t want Spam, but he probably will. I introduced him to it one time when I must have been under the influence of something – who knows what-- and he loved it! I can’t really blame him as Spam is delicious . . . but it’s so bad!

My only concern about being in LA is an article I read in the paper about a month ago. It happened on Skid Row where a paraplegic man in a dirty gown was found sliding along the sidewalk on his bottom. He was holding a hospital property bag in his mouth with his teeth, and he was trailing a colostomy bag which was malfunctioning. It seems he was dumped there by a hospital van in the same area where city officials say hospitals have dumped homeless before. I hope these same city officials are doing something about this problem as it’s horrible that it has even happened. I don’t expect anything like that to happen to me, but what if I break a leg and end up in a hospital and my out-of-state HMO won’t recognize me in LA? HMOs tend to become quite territorial at times. Would they then dump me on Skid Row? Would they notify Teri beforehand? Would I be able to use my new cell phone to call for help? That probably wouldn’t work as I don’t really know how to use it yet, and it takes me about half an hour to even find a number I want to call. My daughters say I worry too much . . . now where would they get a crazy idea like that?

Recently I’ve been thinking of pets as I periodically do. When I was young and living on the farm, we had many animals. When I married and had my own family, we continued on in the same tradition only with more animals and many different kinds. But now my daughters have their own families with many pets, and I am living in a condo. I tried goldfish and a bullfrog on my deck, but a raccoon ate them. I thought about another box turtle like I’d had years ago, but I’ve found they can’t live in our cold, damp climate – sort of the way I feel about our cold, damp climate. A woman I know had a box turtle that caught pneumonia which cost her probably as much as a face lift. So I have finally come up with an idea for a pet replacement project.

I saw an ad in the Sunday paper section with all the ads . . . you know the kind where you can use the coupon and get money off at the store. Well, this ad was for tomatoes. For under $10 you could buy four seeds that would eventually grow 15 feet tall and bear tomatoes that weighed two pounds each! And they would grow in the house! So I immediately sent my check and started preparing a place for my new tomato plants. I moved furniture and trunks around in my computer room which gets a lot of sunlight being on the south side of my condo. I put two apple boxes I’ve saved from our farm in front of the windows and two big pots on top. I waited for over a month, and they finally arrived. I planted two little seeds in each tiny container and will move them to the big containers when they grow. I’ll have pictures taken when they’re several feet tall and covering me while I sit at my computer. Two days ago I discovered that two of them were coming up! This is all very exciting for me!

Oh, I almost forgot . . . the alligator picture. That was when I was in Louisiana and checking out possible pets for myself. I got a little close to this alligator and my friends finally dragged me back in the car where I took this picture . . . definitely not pet material. I saw turtles I would love to have brought home, but they belonged there. I also saw some tiny, little A-frame houses that would fit tiny, little munchkins. I was remarking to my friends how cute they looked, and they told me they were little houses for the cocks used in cock fighting! What a wonderful place Louisiana is. I left shortly thereafter.

So I guess now when I come home, I can say “Hi, Honey, I’m home” and my tomato plants will welcome me. The alligator would never have worked out.

As I’ve mentioned many times, I watch a lot of television which includes commercials, most of which I try to ignore. However, there is one commercial for a well-known plastic surgery clinic here in Portland that has a very offensive commercial running . . . at least it’s offensive to me. It shows a woman complaining about her face, and the good doctor telling her she’s not yet ready for surgery. She goes back in a couple of years, and the doctor says he thinks she is now ready. She is elated! So she has some of her chin whacked off, and the results are shown in “before” and “after” pictures. You hear her voice – or maybe a voice-over person – saying the following: “I’m going to like not looking like my mom.”

I was horrified the first time I saw this commercial which was quite some time ago. At that time, I called the company and complained. I can’t imagine a daughter ever saying something like that about her mother. Even if her mother were an ugly axe murderer, it wouldn’t be the least bit cool to say that. And if that were the case, she probably couldn’t afford to have any work done anyway. My mother was a beautiful woman as are all mothers, and to think that a daughter would say that is unconscionable.

I called them today after I had once again seen this same ad. I told the woman who answered the phone how objectionable I thought the ad is, and she assured me she would pass my complaint on to the marketing team. Marketing team? You mean they needed a team to come up with such a disgraceful ad? I would think a marketing team with any brains at all could come up with a better ad than that. A monkey could do a better job.

In the meantime, I have canceled my appointment with them for a complete face lift. Just kidding! I would love to look like my mom.

The above picture was taken of me when I was in college and going through a sorority initiation. I evidently had displeased the members in some way and was punished by wearing pigtails all over my head and going without lipstick for a day. That’s funny because now that’s the way all women dress on campus! Being fresh off the farm, I thought being in a sorority was the “thing” to do in college, but I learned differently. I soon decided the whole sorority idea was not for me and I dropped out. Now I’m adamantly opposed to them – there is too much discrimination and too many hurt feelings among the girls. They should be able to concentrate on their studies, learn social skills and be free to say what they want. They should never be constrained by rules set down years ago when discrimination was in effect against people of different races, religions or appearances.

But how about the CNN report concerning girls from Depauw University who belonged to Delta Zeta Sorority where it was sometimes called “the dog house” which implied the members weren’t pretty. Three of the Delta Zeta members said the sorority’s national office was concerned that the membership at Depauw was too low. So last summer these students said the leaders suggested the way to recruit was to change their appearance with drinking and sex. Wow! What a novel idea. I imagine all the campus guys thought it was a great idea. Now they could find girls who were blotto – and maybe not even the most attractive – but were willing to have sex due to the fact that they were blotto. Guys like to have sex anytime, anywhere and it doesn’t matter what she looks like -- just so long as she’s alive. One of the students quoted the leader this way: “Her whole idea is basically you need to be more sexually appealing, make the guys want you, you need to, I don’t know, get sloshed and have them whatever—just be more attractive, get the men to like you, get the men to want you.”

This whole mess came to light when national leaders held an open house for freshman women and only the more attractive students were asked to be the hosts. The others were asked to stay upstairs and not come down unless they were dressed “really cute.” Then in December the national office sent a letter to 23 members – two thirds of the membership – stating they’d failed to meet recruiting standards and their status was changed from active to alumna, and they had to be gone by the end of January. These 23 were all the overweight students and three of the four minorities at Delta Zeta. One of the students said, ”Image is the new racism of sorts. Image is the be-all and end-all of everything, and sorority life is just where it appears the most.” CNN ends by saying, “University officials sent a letter reprimanding the national sorority for disrupting students’ lives just a week before exams. They say they’re still investigating, but could ask the sorority to leave campus.”

So is the message these Delta Zeta leaders is sending out is that any freshman girl entering college can be popular and join a good sorority by drinking heavily and having a lot of sex? I know the college guys are going to love that! So if you happen to be fat and not at all pretty, concentrate on the drinking and dress “really cute.”

I just read an article in The Oregonian which says Hallmark Cards Inc. is starting up a new line of cards which gets right to the point. No more dull “Happy Birthday” or “Get Well Soon” . . . they will still have those, but will add the new group. These new cards will pin point the reason for the card. If you have cancer, one idea is “Cancer is a villain who doesn’t play fair . . . but it can’t dim your spirit, and it can’t silence prayer.” Another example listed was for depression: “When the world gets heavy, remember, I’m here to help carry it with you.” Now just what does that mean? Does it mean the sender of the card will get depressed with you so there will be two depressed people instead of just one?

This whole idea sounds very strange to me . . . even a little sick. When I had cancer a few years ago, the last thing I wanted was someone sending me a card reminding me I had cancer. I already knew it! There was even an example for a person with an eating disorder. If I had an eating disorder I certainly wouldn’t want a card from someone mentioning that fact. They’ll have cards for quitting smoking, caring for an aged parent, miscarriage, dying from an accident or homicide and many others. What would these cards say? “Sorry you’re stuck with your senile father” or “Too bad your son was stabbed to death in front of Harry’s Bar.” There could be any number of phrases to fit these situations. What about a card for adultery: “I hear you’re sleeping with your neighbor’s wife . . . is she hot?” Or one for constipation: “Sorry you’re so constipated – eat some prunes and quit whining.” And one for appearances: “I know you hate that ugly mole on your cheek . . . everyone does!” Or how about this: “I hear you’re a pedophile – no more babysitting at my house!”

Now those are just my views, and I’m probably in the minority. I love Hallmark commercials and always get teary-eyed when they run on TV, but I don’t buy that kind. I get the stupid, crazy, goofy ones. My friends know that about me and accept me for what I am, whatever that is. I don’t want to send a card with my tears on it because it’s so touching that it makes me cry. I want to send a card that might make someone smile even though he or she is not in the best of circumstances at that time. Isn’t that what it’s all about?