The July Report: Strap In And Let's Do This

this is from YouTube

 July has been all over the place so far. This post will probably reflect that. Hang on tight because I have no real idea what this may turn into. Let's go.

1. Cervical Facet Arthropathy/Syndrome and Cervical Epidural Steroid Injection:  This all has nothing to do with lady parts; rather, it's all about a pain in the neck. It seems that my most recent falls have exacerbated the arthritis in my neck and exposed a nerve. I've been in pain and physically limited for months and months, and it finally got bad enough that I was referred to a pain specialist. Long story short, we tried medicine, and on Monday a cortisone shot into my neck/spine. If that doesn't hold, next is a nerve ablation. After that, it's surgery to insert pins/rods. I'm Trying Very Hard to avoid that last thing, which is huge and scary and, to me, the very last resort. So far, I'm really pleased with the injection. Fingers crossed that it gives me relief for a long time.

2. Herb Garden Stuff:  I've already made a batch of pesto from my basil and parsley and dried some oregano. My oregano is from a plant I put in more than 10 years ago. I've had to seed dill twice now because of this horrendous heat. I have a volunteer tomato plant somehow in there (I haven't planted tomatoes there for decades), and my jalapenos from last year seeded themselves smack dab in the middle of my rosemary. Today I pulled 14 jalapeno plants and put them in huge pots along the drive. I'll be making pesto again this week, provoking much joy from Jared and Sam.

3. Social Commentary Or Just Laziness? You Decide:  Sometimes on my walk I am confronted with sights that cause me to ruminate for a block or two. As a former English/Literature/Creative Writing teacher and student, I cannot help but see Deeper Meanings in most things. Plus, it's a nice break from reacting with Just Plain Annoyance. Consider these two related things that caught my eye today:

Is this a commentary on the way Organized Sports have a chokehold on our kids, forcing them into a world of pressure and competition far too early? Is it trying to tell us that kids should be spending more time outdoors in free play, discovering the wonders of Nature? Is it saying that too much money is spent on professional sports--salaries, arenas, merchandise, and the like--perhaps to the detriment of our natural environment? That we've lost our way as to what's Truly Important? I like to give my neighbours lofty, artsy, and highfalutin intentions rather than admit they're just indifferent about their yards. It allows me to maintain my Zen whilst I walk.

4. Weekends At The Lake:  Theo was ill over Independence Day with new teeth and a virus, so he couldn't join us, but Sam and Emily (aka Samily) and Zydrunas came for the day. We boated and lunched and hung out. Later that night, Rick and I watched three different fireworks displays from our front yard. We had a makeup weekend last weekend with everyone (minus Emily, who had to work, unfortunately), and it was wonderful. Theo is obsessed with Sam, who he calls Guncle. He drove the boat, talked a lot, danced, and got in the water. He had the time of his life, and we all marveled at how much having him around is like having Zydrunas around. Eerily similar, especially on the boat.

5. Books, Etc.:  I've read two books by Jay Winik about the Civil War. I know I've mentioned them in other Comment sections, so I won't talk about them here except to say that they are excellent and captivating. The writing is engaging and excellent. I grew up vacationing in Gettysburg, and I have a bit of an obsession with this period of history as well as President and Mary Lincoln, reading deeply in these areas. Sadly, I just lost my favourite aunt who lived in Gettysburg and who was a very gracious hostess to our family and to me separately. She was also an English teacher, as was her husband. I will miss her much.

I'm now reading--as a palate cleanser--Parallel Lines by Edward St. Aubyn. It is witty, British, acerbic, and smart. Say what you will about Evil Amazon (and there is plenty to), but they let me read the first chapter of books, and this one had me smiling in admiration, recognition (of how one thought leads to another and another), and amusement. I'm only about 45 pages in, and I absolutely love it. I can't wait to read more by this man. If I were sweeter, I'd type out some passages, but honestly, it's time to prep dinner, and I want to get this published. Go read the first few pages. It's so so good.

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I think this catches us up. I'd like to say that I'll be better at posting more often, but I think we all know how that will turn out. Thank you to those who do post regularly. I wish I knew your secret. Certainly I have time! Perhaps I'll just say I'll Try.

My World Today

 

I'm so late with a post today, and honestly, I don't have much to say about anything. It's important to me to fulfill my promise to myself and write here every day this month, however, so here we go.

*Haircut!  Susie called me back this morning and booked me in at 3:15 today. The drive was actually pleasant with no traffic. I saw a brand new herd of cows in a field where I had never seen any before. This time I dropped 20 bucks at Susie's. She gave me an eyebrow wax, too. 

*There's a house two blocks away from mine that decorated for Halloween in late August. They draped spider webs across their bushes, hung bats on their doors and windows, and set out both carved and painted pumpkins. Other houses started fairly early, too. By the time October came around, I started getting disoriented. Had I missed Halloween? Why was it taking so long? Last week, they started decorating for Christmas. Along with their Halloween decor. So amid the bats and webs and rotten/rotting pumpkins are a shiny Santa and Christmas tree on shepherd hooks and some garland. It's like a Holiday Yard Sale.

*I'm going to the grocery store tomorrow morning. I can either drive to the slightly nicer store about 10 miles away, or I can zip over to the okay store across town. The nicer store has better produce and I know and like the cashiers. The okay store is closer and I know the floor people. It also has a better closeouts selection. It's a decision I make on the road, totally dependent upon how I feel at that precise moment. (Do I feel like slumming, or do I feel like hobnobbing with the hoity toity?)

That's a glimpse into my world for now.  (It's way past time for cat cuddling, and Piper just let me know by forcing his enormous body between me and my laptop. He almost made me lose this entire post by kicking his back paws at my keyboard to shove it out of the way.  Priorities!)

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Three On Thursday: The Road Trip Edition And An Early Happy Mother's Day

It didn't seem like more than a week ago since my last post, but the calendar does not lie. Here's a quick Three On Thursday to remedy my laziness.

1. We spent the weekend at the lakehouse, where Rick is replacing the deck. Sunday was an unexpectedly gorgeous day, and we spent a large amount of it sitting on the dock in the sunshine. Since it was my birthday, we did a little Day Drinking and waved at the people who floated by in their boats. We were more than a little envious that they already had their boats in the water, but since warm days are so few and far between right now, we know we still have time. Right now, the deck is Priority One.

2. On our way home, we talked about what the heck to have for dinner. We were very tempted to stop at the ice cream stand on our way home (you know the one), especially when we saw this:

They were doing a decent business, and there was a moderate amount of social distancing. No specialty pizza was offered because this news was Too Big to share the sign. It was on both sides.

3. Sam was recently behind this truck and snapped a photo. He sent it to me immediately. I know you'll be positively astonished by its awfulness.

You don't no weather two laugh or cry, due you? Sigh.

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I hope you have a lovely weekend. For those of you who are Mothers, have a lovely Mother's Day. For those of you who, like my brother, are not technically a Mother but have been one for all intents and purposes, it is Your Day as well. It will likely not be like other Mother's Days past, but it does not change the fact that you are a Mother, no matter what.

And chocolate is back!

October Scrapbook

October has arrived, and with it Autumn. Oh, Summer hung around a bit for the first few days, just like it did last year, but it was a Last Gasp, to be sure. We've already had the ceremonial Igniting Of The Furnace, Planting Of The Bulbs, and the Changing Over Of The Closet. (It's Boot Season--hooray!)

Sadly, we've already had our first Frost Warning as well. Yikes.

Anyway, since we've last been together, I've collected a few snapshots to share with you. Let's take a look, shall we?

Here's the Tomato Fence, the one I pass by daily on my walk. To the right of the profusion of foliage you can see a few fronds of the cherry tomato plant peeping out above and below the slats. Just so you can see my Temptor.

Sadly, I walk past this every day now, too. Longtime readers of this blog know that I am no fan of Halloween decor to begin with, but how did this mass-produced, commercially made flag get all the way to stores with NO ONE picking up on the fact that CEMETERY is misspelled? This hurts me so much.

 But not as much as this. Not only are all the gruesome Halloween...things slammed right up against the chipper Christmas stuff--AND IT'S ONLY MID-OCTOBER--there are actually shoppers looking at the Christmas stuff back there. Furthermore, I realize Thanksgiving is a Quainte Olde Fashionede Observance now, but may we still have it? At its regularly scheduled time? Please?

I need to breathe.

And possibly take a pill.

Moving on to photos from our Department Of Redundancy Department:

Oh, may I? I swear; I read this twice, making absolutely certain that Mr. Ajay Mirmira did not also refer to an ATM machine or state that you could walk in at 2 o'clock AM in the morning. I also wondered if he would say something about ink pens or tuna fish or rising up or some other horrific unnecessary doubling of The Language that would make me swear into my coffee mug.

Finally, this. Alert Husband and Reader Rick saw this at nearby Menards, a home improvement store that is, as I told my friend Jackie, a store so enormous that it is like Home Depot and Walmart had a baby and put steroids in its bottle. (A brief aside:  Rick said that when he saw this, the first thing he said was, "Damn you, Nance! I never used to notice this shit until I met and married you. Now it irritates the hell out of me." Sigh. Ours is a Unique Love Story.)  Hey, Menards! Is it ever, ever possible to "Combine Apart?" No? Pro Tip:  Just say Combine. The word itself means "to put together".

So painful.

Welcome to Fall, everyone. It's getting chilly (and a little irksome) out there.

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I'm So Happy That My Phone Has A Camera And Here Are Some Pictures To Prove It

Sometimes, I think back to The Olden Times when things were Very Sad, like when my cell phone did not have a camera I could use easily. Now, I can snap pictures of tremendous Things, share them, and then delete them once they have served their purpose, like becoming Blog Material. A collateral benefit is that others take pictures for me and send them to me, too.

Isn't Life great? I'm glad The Olden Times are gone.


We are so Advanced now that some Beings no longer use words. It's true! Witness this ad, which has run for a few days now in the Rentals section of my Cleveland Plain Dealer:

I feel like I'm getting some of it: grand staircase; cable tv; party room downstairs; no phone or casual hookups; outdoor pool; references available upon request. The rest is self explanatory. If you can handle complex communication and don't have a pet, the rent seems pretty reasonable.


I, however, will be staying in my neighborhood, especially after what I saw in this next photo. The joy (and relief) I felt on my walk when I saw this sign just around the corner from my home was immeasurable.

Until I went to edit this photo, I didn't notice the rays of light shining down upon it from The Heavens Above. It's awfully comforting to know that The Universe is rooting for The Rest Of Us in 2020, too.


This last photo was sent to me by my dear friend Jeanine, who keeps a sharp eye out for such things with me in mind. This sign made my day; it is magnificent in its oddness and bossiness. I have never, ever seen anything like it. It defies explanation and logic in every way. I love it.

This sign mystifies me, and I am not over it. I struggle mightily to figure out exactly how driving at a regular speed or even zippily will affect a grieving family. Wouldn't it make more sense (but still be a ridiculous imposition, really) for the sign to read QUIET: DEATH IN FAMILY: THANK YOU? How slowly must the drivers pass by? Can they drive r-e-a-l-l-y s-l-o-w-l-y but blast "Old Town Road" or "Sucker" with their windows open? Perhaps it would be better for drivers to stop altogether and observe a moment of silence for this dead person, whom they do not even know, in a family they do not even know, who are, right now, attempting to BOSS THEM AROUND IN THEIR PERSONAL CAR ON A PUBLIC ROAD. 

Isn't it just The Best? I told you I'm not over it. This will take some time. I'll get back to you.

In the meantime, why not chat about these pix in Comments?

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Settle In With Some Fries And Let's Ketch...Er, Catch Up

It would seem I'm a Terrible Virtual Friend and Correspondent. So many days have drifted by and here we are with nothing more wonderful than a Catch-Up Post from me.

Get it?  Catch Up--Ketchup?

Oh well...I tried.

Spring Has Sprung! As I tap away on my keyboard, it is a Blissfully Sunny 75 degrees outdoors. My windows are open, I feel uplifted, and I'm even barefoot right now. My walk was sprightly and pleasant. Crocuses are smiling at the sun, buds are on trees, and the guy down the street was out mowing his lawn. As I leaned over our neighbor's fence to give treats to their dogs (The Boys, as I call them), I took note of their forsythia just beginning to show bright yellow blossoms. My chives are up and ready to be snipped for baked potatoes tonight, and my oregano and tarragon are starting to come on. And, looking closely, I spot a fine sprinkling of dill which has nudged up through the mulch. Hooray!

I Am The Champion! After a grueling season rife with injuries to my marquee players, my perseverance paid off and I beat Sam in the Championship Round of our NBA Fantasy League. I had an impressive record of 18-3 with an 11-game win streak. And I was the only woman in the 10-team league. My knowledge of the NBA is bordering on the obsessive at this point. Once a student, always a student.

Undecorator Update. As of today, very few Christmas Decoration Sloths in my orbit have taken down their decorations, most egregious being the Nativity Wreck on my street and the mailbox wreath three blocks north. I've decided to Be Grateful that none of the offending decor is an inflatable.

Knitting Pathology. I started a mitred square blanket with the intention of A) using up a lot of yarn that was given to me and that I had bits and pieces of; B) focusing on Knitting As Therapy, and; C) having an ongoing small and easy project that wouldn't give me fits and didn't have a date certain for necessary completion. It all sounds Just Perfect, right? Well, baloney to that.

First, I found little mini-skeins of very pretty yarn on sale that I thought, "Oh, that would be so lovely to fill in squares on the blanket project" so I bought a load of them. Then I knitted a couple of different projects that used bulkier yarn, and I really loved that, so when I found a bunch of it at a ridiculously low price, I bought that. And then I decided that I would set A Square A Day as a Knitting Assignment for myself, which is completely reasonable, and then every day I keep an eye on the clock, wondering when I'm going to have some unbroken time to sit down and knit my square. All of which is Completely Counter to what my Original Intentions were. I swear, I am a Horrible Project most of the time.

Looking Forward. Last Saturday, our mail was exciting! In it was an invitation to a release party being thrown by our favourite winemaker in Niagara-on-the-Lake, Ontario. We were verbally invited last October, but hadn't given it much thought again until the invitation showed up. Luckily, we were able to book a room at our usual inn, and we can't wait to go and taste the new wines before they are released to the general public. We've developed some very nice relationships with so many of the wineries and winemakers there that every time we open a bottle, it's like reliving a memory.

I do so hope that Spring has shown up where you are.  We here in NEO will be back to the 40s and low 50s in just a couple of days, but this gift of Fleeting Spring has been a much-needed tonic.  And that is, after all, what Spring is all about:  rejuvenation, reward, and renewal.  I'm storing this up until Spring comes again To Stay.


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Help Me To Help You To Help Me: My Moneymaking Idea To End The Madness Of Holiday Sloths

This idea is my gift to you.  Please make it happen and keep all the profits!

Dearest Readers, let's all check our calendars together, shall we? It is April; we can all agree upon that. Can we all agree, too, that in the past, oh, let's say...three months, we've had lots of holidays pass by, including the well-known New Year's Day, Valentine's Day, St. Patrick's Day, and Easter? Certainly a couple of those are Decoration-Worthy for some of our More Festive Neighbors. Yet, some of them are still Stuck--Irretrievably, it seems--in Christmas Past.

Case in point: the photo below is one I took on my walk a few days ago. Sadly, it is on my very own street, and as of this writing, its status has not changed.

Nativity Wreck:  The Wise Men were smart enough not to show up.

And until a week ago, a lighted wreath (illuminated 24/7) hanging out of a second story window was still a prominent feature of the front of this home.

Unfortunately, this Serial Offender is not the Rogue Holiday Decoration Sloth.  On my walk, they are everywhere.  And proud!  Like this home several blocks from my own.

Sometimes this is still lit up when I pass by in the morning!  Fun!

What's really mystifyingly egregious are the Christmas wreaths still left hanging on front doors and on mailboxes, which are hanging right next to the doors, under cover of the porch.  HOW HARD IS IT, EVERYONE?  JUST REACH OUT AND GRAB IT AND BRING.  IT.  INSIDE.  WITH YOUR MAIL.  ANY DAY NOW WOULD BE GREAT.

RIDICULOUS.  INSANE.  BEYOND LAZY.

So, here's my idea for a moneymaking business.  All you need is a van or a small pickup truck, an extension ladder, and a good supplier for sturdy cardboard boxes in various sizes.  Very No Frills.  A client calls and says, "Look.  I don't want to Undecorate my house.  All the festivity of November/December that translated into ten tons of tchotchky dripping from my home has now become a nightmare to me in February EVEN THOUGH WE HAVE HAD DOZENS OF VERY DECENT DAYS WITH NO SNOW AND TEMPERATURES ABOVE FORTY.  Please come and do it for me."  So, the Undecorator comes, strips all the Holiday Crap, and packs it into sturdy cardboard boxes.  He or she places the boxes either into a garage, shed, or into the home (no stairs will be climbed, and no lifting boxes overhead to put them up on shelves will be done, ever; the homeowner must place boxes into final storage).  Finally, the Undecorator presents the bill, takes payment, and it's over.  For all of us.

As far as looking for new business, please.  I could have found you no less than six new clients in a one and a half-mile radius of my own home, happily placing flyers, dreaming of the days when Christmas was really over well before Easter arrived.

So, what do you say?  Can you make this happen for me?


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Sign Language Saturday: The Huh? Edition

Okay.

Even after the viewer overlooks the missing apostrophe (and two upside-down S's), this sign has problems.  I'm struggling to find its message and meaning or any semblance of coherence.  It's as if there was a sign meeting and

Chairman of the Sign Committee:  Okay, everyone.  What should our Holiday Sign say?
Member 1:  Technically, it doesn't say anything.  People read it.  It's not a talking sign.
Chairman:  Ha ha, Joyce.  Okay, anyone else?  I'll write down everyone's suggestion on this legal pad.
Member 2:  Happy Holidays!
Member 3:  How about Welcome to Cinnamon Lake?
Joyce:  That's always on the sign already.
Member 3:  You don't have to get snotty, Joyce.  And it says "Welcome To Cinnamon Lake A Great Community", if you want to get technical.
Member 2:  Come celebrate Christmas with us!
Chairman:  Well, not everyone will be coming just for Christmas.  Over at the Lodge, we're having a Thanksgiving dinner, and also, don't forget the Christmas Eve Bunco Game and our New Year's Eve Euchre and Trivia Countdown Party.
Member 4:  I have to leave early.  Carl moved the Recycling Committee meeting to tonight.  We need to move this along.   
Joyce:  What's on our list?
Chairman:  Okay.  I think I got enough.  Meeting adjourned.

Sign Language Saturday: Squashing The Stupid

photo property of Dept. of Nance

What can I say? 

This was one of a parade of signs in front of a greenhouse/garden center, an established business of many years.  I was zipping by at about forty miles per hour when I saw it and had to turn around in order to pull into the driveway and photograph it.

I was the only person in the parking lot; it was shortly before 1 PM, and the place was open for business.  This sign has obviously driven all prospective customers away. 

As it should.

I Have To Stop Driving...Or Seeing...Or Reading...Or Something (Why Is This So Hard?)

In addition to the Saddening And Terrible bar sign announcing "$1.00 Taco's Every Tuesday!", which I must drive by at least weekly, I must also see this Disappointing, Mystifying, and Horrid thing at least that often (though on a different route):

Goodness.  Where to begin?

Apart from being dismayed by the Zombie Pioneer/Amish Woman cheerfully decaying along the street side of the sign itself, (and how nice that the lights are discreetly pointed away from her), I'm frankly astonished that the store's wares are all conventionally spelled and punctuated on the placards. There are Crafts, not Krafts, perhaps in fear of a visit from the mega-corporation, summons in hand for a patent infringement.

Travelling westward, as I usually am when I see this sign, I get a slightly different view than what you see here.  On that side, I see 'YE OLDE' VILLAGE KOUNTRY STORE with both single quotation marks.  They are still superfluous and bewildering, but at least they are a pointlessly matched set.  Travelling eastward, as this photo is taken, the second quotation mark is, for some reason, omitted.  Now the lone mark is rendered an apostrophe, as if 'YE is actually a longer word somehow shortened...or something. Either way, I don't get it/them. I mean, we all can see that the building is not Olde, the village it's in is not Olde, and none of its customers will be speaking Olde Englishe. (And I wonder if the owner even knows what Ye means/meant in Olde Englishe anywaye.)

Finally, the most Egregious Sin Of All--KOUNTRY.  Why?  Why?  WHY?!  Wasn't Ye Olde enough already?  On top of Village?  Do you mean to tell me that Old Village Country Store doesn't have enough cache or authenticity or convey enough homey charm?  It just isn't necessary.  And it looks dumb.  I'm certainly not buying a mattress from anyone who can't spell Country.  Or use quotation marks correctly.

Ye Ende.

H Is For...

Way past due for this post--The Letter H--I know. I'm in such a terrible funk. Were it possible to put me in a coma or some sort of State of Suspended Animation until we had sustained temperatures of at least 60...that would be good. Think of how skinny I'd get! Ah, but that's another Issue altogether.

My Letter I Post! Remind me.

But I digress. Here is my

List Of Random H Things I Shall Be Nattering About

1. Hello!?
2. Harmonica
3. Hydrox Cookies
4. Hassock

1. From time to time people become habituated to their Lives and lose the ability to truly see exactly What's Going On With Themselves. We all do it, and it's Helpful if an outsider gives them a Wake-Up Call. Allow me to provide this valuable Service. HELLO!? Can you check your Calendar, please? We are Officially Into March, and next week we will be entering Daylight Saving Time. This is Lent, and Easter occurs this month. It is well past time to TAKE DOWN ALL OF YOUR CHRISTMAS DECORATIONS. No, really, we are Not Interested in a single one of your excuses. None will pass muster. All of them Must Go, and At Once. (Yes, I am referring to both the excuses and the decorations.)

2. At the risk of offending anyone, I would not be one bit upset if suddenly, for some inexplicable reason, all Harmonicas disappeared from the universe. Whether it be one by one or together in a mass exodus is immaterial to me, as long as it happens in short order. Harmonicas should have gone the way of the musket rifle and the hoopskirt. Why are they still here? And if the answer is Country Music, I might ask the same question about it as well.

3. It may come as a shock to Cooky Aficionados everywhere, but Hydrox chocolate sandwich cookies were the originals, and Nabisco's Oreos came a full four years later. Hydrox were crispier and crunchier, and they were way less sweet than Oreos. They were the preferred snack of Tuffy, the obese cocker spaniel on E. 38th Street where I grew up, whose owners fed him at least six a day from a metal can next to their sofa. Actually, I ate them from that can as well when I went over there, and so did T.W. and Marge, Tuffy's owners. We were all fat, due in no small part to Hydrox.

4. Every so often, I hear a word that rings a little Linguistic Alert for me, and last week it was Hassock. Growing up, I detested this word and preferred that my parents (especially my father) use the term Footstool or even Ottoman. No one--and I mean NO ONE--among my friends used Hassock. But my father stubbornly used that term to denote any piece of small furniture used as a Footrest. He loved them, actually, and used to bring them home with startling regularity. He especially loved the little, round, padded-top things with a big flat button in the middle of them. He only stopped bringing them home when my brother made him a new footstool in Woodshop class. That may have actually ended the use of Hassock, come to think of it, and ushered in The Footstool Era.

I eagerly await your additions to my H words, or your own H words in Comments. Be the Sunshine Of My Life since NEO refuses to.

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Roadside Religion

http://www.conggiao.info/

Now that Spring is finally dawdling along to Ohio, Rick and I are weekending at the lake, which is in Ashland County, about a forty-five minute drive for us through small towns and farmland. And, apparently, judging by the yard signs we see, Proud Christians.

I am continually fascinated by this sort of Roadside Religion, this blaring Bible-thumping. My mother, St. Patsy, and I had a chat about it once when she accompanied me.

Nance: These God signs are ridiculous. Who puts a bigass sign full of religion in their yard?
St. Patsy: I know.
Nance: It's pretty lazy evangelizing, if you ask me. What if other people, like doctors, did their jobs like that? What if a doctor merely put up a sign in front of his office that said, "Take two aspirin and lie down" and that was it? What if I, as an English teacher, had simply put up a sign in my yard that said, "Apostrophes don't make plurals and go read the classics"? Those God Warriors are just taking the easy way out.
St. Patsy: (laughs; shakes head) Oh, Nance. Just ignore it.

My mother's stock answer for most things that annoyed me throughout my life has always been to Ignore It, from my siblings' torments to the sometimes hurtful retorts from my children to runs in my pantyhose to the random pimples on my chin. But I think it's pretty hard to ignore this:

And here's the other side of it, shot from the road parallel, the only place I could grab a decent photo:

As you can see, this is one bigass, preachy sign, the wording of which still escapes me. Exactly how does one Believe ON something/someone, anyway?  (St. Patsy assures me that this is Old Timey, Bible wording that she recalls from her Pre-Catholic Days.)  This sign is along a residential driveway, bordered by evergreens, and when I drove into said driveway to get the shot, it was peaceful and parklike, even eerily so. The other side's sentiment, stating that only Grace/Faith saves you, not Works, is a very Puritan sentiment. It goes all the way back to Predestination, that confusing doctrine that said your Final Destination (Heaven or Hell) was already decided at your birth, so no matter what you did, it didn't really matter. I still don't know why any Puritan bothered to behave at all. I'd have sinned myself ragged. (Of course, many did but the social and real costs were high.)

Lest you think that sign is the only one, let me present Exhibit B:

And its reverse:

This sign is much more subtle, of course, but is again in a rather nice and tranquil setting (the dead Easter plants notwithstanding). Across the street (where I parked to get out and get the shot) is a junky used car lot, and nearby is a railroad track. It is about two miles away from the bigass sign. And yes, that comma is killing me there.

This enormous and rather scary sign appeared over Easter. The bloody red paint presents a rather interesting and ironic contrast to its message:

Unfortunately, you cannot clearly see the small, also hand-lettered sign next to the bigass one. It reads "Do Not Come To The House." (Something the newspaper delivery person clearly took to heart, as you can tell by the newspaper lying in the grass.) This presents a wonderful paradox for me. JESUS LOVES YOU, but DO NOT COME TO THE HOUSE. Hey, they are into Jesus, but not so much what He was into.

The lakehouse is smack-dab in the middle of a large Amish enclave.  Right at the entrance to the lake community is an Amish farmhouse, and across the road is another one.  Several more are down the street.  They are easy to spot; they have no electric lines running to their homes, and their buggies and horses are often in view.  Once a week, their familiar black and deep blue clothing flutters on clotheslines next to white aprons and caps.

But the one thing you never see is overt signs of their devotion to their God.  They are quietly devout, silently living their Christian ideology. Their farmstands are shuttered on Sundays.

I'm a recovering Catholic; I am not religious, so I don't understand evangelical religions.  One thing I do understand, however, is that I don't like being preached to about pretty much anything, especially passive-aggressively.

A long time ago, someone passed this along about religion--I forget who--but I think it's a great analogy, however crude:  Religion is like a penis. It’s fine to have one, it’s fine to be proud of it, but please don’t whip it out in public and start waving it around...and don’t try to shove it down my throat.

Getting Over It

Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to a New Feature here at the Dept. of Nance, one we like to think of as a sort of Public Service/Therapy Session called Get Over It. I'm sure you'll figure out how it works as we go along, and we encourage you to offer up your own Subjects for Future Treatment, or you can provide your own rendition in Comments.

Let's get on, shall we?

"The Internet is so bougie."

1. Senator Lindsey "Old Lady Fussypants" Graham (R-South Carolina) proudly declared on Meet the Press to moderator Chuck Todd, "I don't email. You can have every email I've ever sent. I've never sent one." Oh, Senator, aren't you clever? And...sad? This past week, my mother, who will be 85 in June, picked up her new iPad. It is her very first foray into the world of technology. She learned how to use email, text messaging, the Internet, and some apps. She delighted in being able to FaceTime with her family members and add birthdays to the calendar. She can listen to Vic Damone on her personal Pandora station. You, however, revel in the fact that you eschew electronic communication as if you are a Puritan church elder who is denying the devil. Oh, Senator Lindsey Graham, Get Over It. Being a Luddite isn't virtuous, it's dumb. You might not send emails, but your staffers do, and those missives carry the imprimatur of your office. So do your Facebook page and your Twitter account. You even have a Web presence, here, and it includes a link to email you. You even have a YouTube page! So, again, Senator, Get Over It. You're sending emails and involved in the age of technology whether you "are" or not.

2. Can everyone check the date right now? We are rounding the bend and within striking distance of April. Yet, Some People are still displaying Christmas Decorations in their yards, on their homes, and in their windows. Hey, Holiday-Challenged Or Lazy Sods, Get Over It! Christmas is past, done, gone, and other holidays have come and gone as well. Even the snow is gone. There is simply no reason for any of this, all of which I photographed while I drove home from the grocery store and in a two-block radius from my home:

At left, a manger scene; Christmas lights are wound all around; they are illuminated most nights.

Confusingly, this Christmas wreath is in contrast to the bouquet of fake spring flowers at the door.

WTF is going on here?  Jolly snowperson out front; Uncle Sam next to the door with the US Flag Heart alongside.

You are hurting my feelings and annoying your neighbors. You are likely prolonging winter. You are devaluing the surrounding properties. This is, in a word, outrageous. What are you waiting for? If you hate this job so much, don't put this crap up in the first place. Winter in NEO is cold and long. Those decorations won't ever, ever take themselves down or put themselves away, and they end up looking pathetic and depressing. No one wants to see this in February, March, or at the rate you are going, April. Get Over It and yank this junk now.  My next-door neighbors just took down their plastic candy canes and inflatables on Sunday, March 22nd.  I thought I would die.

3. Hey, republicans--at least the eleven of you who are NOT running for president--Barack Obama is going to finish out his second term as the President Of These United States Of America. Get Over It. While I know that many of you still cannot do that, let me add that your continued attempts to repeal the Affordable Care Act have passed Ludicrous and are on their way to Psychotic. Since you took over the majority in the House, you have put a vote on the floor almost sixty times in those four years, accomplishing precisely nothing. Yet, the first thing you use in any argument about Democrats being unable to effect legislation is the fact that "they had a supermajority" and yada yada yada. Looks like you're finding out what it's like to deal with a group of people who don't follow in lockstep with The Party all the time. Hate to say I Told You So, but when you courted the teapartiers, you invited disaster. Now, Get Over It. 

Lovin' those Grizzly Mamas and Evangelicals now, aren't you?

Probably some of my Dear Readers could smugly say, "Nance, you should take your own advice and Get Over It as far as these things go." To you I would say pleasantly, "I tried. For a Very Long Time, I have tried. Now my patience is at an end, and Something had to be said. I said it."

Now it is your turn. Who needs to Get Over It? Or would you like to have Your Turn and snark a little at the three I have admonished? Let fly.

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In Which I Am Impressed By The Level Of Some People's Commitment To The Holiday

Winner!  It's hard to top this yard for its authenticity, scope, and overall design. It's too bad that realty company Berkshire Hathaway had to destroy sight-line continuity with its sign, but hey--that's business. And you know what President Calvin Coolidge (famous dead guy said), "The business of America is business."

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Fear Factor

Today on my walk I played a little game in honor of all of the Halloween decorations. I called it "Which Yard Is The Scariest 2014?" (It was a long walk because not only did I need to oust a Severe Case Of The Crabbies, but I also needed to go to the drugstore. I took, therefore, a circuitous route which gave me a nice three miler or so.)

Anyway, I took some photos, and here are the two Finalists.




Number One:

I'm impressed.  That thing is like fifteen feet tall.  Along with the inflatable Christmas Eeyore, it may be the only yard inflatable I will ever sanction in my neighborhood.  It's scary, yo.  But get ready; here is Entry 

Number Two:

Holy crap.  Do you see what I see?  That's about thirty bags of mulch that need to be spread!  Talk about Scary!  The chills that went up my spine when I saw that...brrrrr.  Not to mention the sick feeling in my gut just thinking about the smell and the stains on my hands, my socks, my arms, and whatever else came in contact with that stuff.  We won't even talk about what it would do to Rick's back.

Yikes.  I think we have a winner.


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The Politics, Halloween, And Yard Art: Experience Life In A Swing State (An Interactive Post!)

At this point in October in Ohio, I don't know what I grow more weary of, Halloween or The Politics.  Last night while trying to enjoy some television programming, Rick and I counted eight ads in a row during one break, and those were just for two races, senator and president.

My great distaste for Halloween has been well documented here at the Dept. in other posts before, so we won't go back over all that territory now.  Suffice it to say, my feelings haven't changed except to perhaps intensify.  So while on my walk today during an unseasonably warm and gloriously sunny day, I made it my Mission not to be irked by the Halloween yard art I knew I was going to witness. 

Because that just allows the Terrorists to Win.

Now, here's an example of a very subtle celebration of Halloween:

 

What does this home say to you?  "Oh, hello.  Autumnal Greetings.  And we are proud Americans, by the way. (Or, we got a free flag from our councilman on Independence Day and, unsure of how to dispose of the flag properly, we just left it here.)"  It wasn't until I got the photo home that I even saw that there was a teeny pumpkin tucked next to each pot of mums, so subtle is this decor.

 

A few blocks later, we have this:

 

 

What does this home say to you?  "Bwaaahaaaahaaa.  We have unpacked our crazy and have a ton of Peter Pan Issues to work through."

 

Here's another view without the tree branches:

Or, perhaps it says:  "We used to work at Discount Halloween Town.  We are the Fun Parents, and everyone in the neighborhood borrows our ladders."

 

But, at least this house has a Theme.  This is a focused, directed Decorating Job.  Which is more than I can say for this:

 

 

Okay...what, now?  Just what does the decor here say to you? Go ahead-- I'll let you have some fun in Comments.





It's Like Looking At A Roomful Of Vegas Showgirls

Here in the Midwest we are often considered staid, provincial, even boring.  We owe our very existence to two rather pedestrian and mundane industries, agriculture and manufacturing.  Midwesterners are perceived by Left- and Right-Coasters to be unsophisticated and lacking in style.  We shop at WalMart and eat spray cheese.  We think Dr. Phil is God and Rosie O'Donnell should just admit that no one wants to hear about It anymore and go away once and for all, especially now that Will & Grace is canceled.  And if that Michelle Obama shows up in a sleeveless dress one more time...!  It's fine if she's looking to do a Playboy, we say, but her husband is running for President of the United States!  Thank Goodness Mrs. Romney has a little more class and modesty.

But not all Midwesterners are so modest and retiring.  On one of my walks I discovered a house whose tenant put her...jugs right on the front porch.

You can see she's got quite a rack out there.  I figured, what the hell.  I'll take a picture; it'll last longer.

Nice rack of jugs. 

More jugs...and wow!  Just noticed on either side of this rack...what a crock!

So much for the Midwestern Modesty.  The nights are getting much colder here in Northeast Ohio.  I can't imagine how those things will hold up once it frosts.

Close Your Eyes And Think Of Something Blue And White...

Go on.  I'll be right here waiting.  Ready?  Did you think of this?

Maybe some of you did.  I might have, before.  Let me try again.  How about this?

Did I get a few more of you that time?  We've been seeing a lot of that lately.  Here's another try.  Maybe some of you thought of this:

After all, a few of you might be on vacation someplace beachy!  Lucky you!  Still more of you may have thought of this:

I think Dorothy wore a dress made of blue gingham in The Wizard of Oz. Maybe you even thought of that.

Chances are pretty good, however, that you did not think of this:

Wait.  Let me give you the side view.

You're welcome.