Category Archives: personal

Ambiance by Suzanne

Just a quick plug for a local business today. I may have mentioned I am in a play with Ilion Little Theatre this weekend and next. There are a number of new people in the cast, new to ILT and new to any stage. I thought I would do something special for opening night.

I remember years ago in high school, people giving their friends flowers for opening night. My mother told me the leading lady got roses, that was all. In fact, she gave me two lovely roses when I was a leading lady once, but that is another memory. I know in movies where they show plays, somebody hands the leading lady a bouquet of roses while she takes her final bow, but I’ve never seen that in real life.

Be all that as it may, I thought to get everyone in the cast as well as the accompanist and sound/lights guy a single bloom. I realized carnations were more in my budget than roses. Anyways, they last longer. I made a phone call.

I drive by Flowers by Suzanne on Mohawk Street in Herkimer, NY almost every day on my way home from work. Steven got me some lovely roses from them one Valentine’s Day (I guess I’m his leading lady) (sorry, had to say it). I ordered eleven carnations, in yellow if possible (there is something in the play about goldenrod, so I thought yellow carnations was close enough).

Friday after work I picked them up. As I walked to the door of the business I got a wonderful whiff of lilacs from a big bush nearby. I must plant some lilacs in my yard. The nice people at Suzanne’s were able to accommodate my request for all yellow and even threw in an extra, in case something happened to one. I grabbed a handful of little cards to write something nice on and was on my way.

As I sat in the car waiting for Steven (I had to pick him up at work), I wrote the cards. And realized I had miscalculated. One card short. I had been going down the cast list writing the cards, so the accompanist got shorted. I had the right number of little envelopes, so I wrote a note on a small piece of notebook paper. It turned out to be OK with the recipient, as it turns out. I had written “Well, this is embarrassing” on the outside of the notebook paper after I had folded it in half. She was highly amused

People were very pleased with their flowers, and I felt I had added to the ambiance of opening night. Anyone needing to add ambiance to any of their occasions can happily go to Flowers by Suzanne. They are located at 433 Mohawk St., Herkimer, NY, 315-866-0206.

Call It What You Like

I got nuthin.

Should there be an apostrophe after the second n in nuthin? See, even when I use quite terrible grammar I want to be correct. This by way of what we can call either a Blogger’s Sick Day or a Wrist to Forehead Saturday.

I’ve spent all day thinking I had to write a blog post and thinking a topic would magically appear. I’ve taken two walks with my dog, one of which included my husband. I made some excellent observations about beautiful Herkimer, NY in the springtime. Yet, I can’t seem to make myself write about them.

It doesn’t help that I’m pressed for time. Or that I am suffering from the lightheadedness that occasionally plagues me. Or some unnamed malaise that renders everything in my life and mind unblogworthy. But I must not repine. My only task now is to get my word count up to a respectable number and drive on.

To help that, here is what I wrote on Thursday for possible use as my Friday Lame Post (as it happened, I went another way):

Full disclosure: I am writing this week’s Friday Lame Post on Thursday as I have done on several previous occasions. I find that it does not appear to have a detrimental effect on the blogosphere.

I’m not writing it on a break at work, as I usually do, nor yet composing at the computer as also often happens. I am crouched on my bathroom floor waiting for my Root Rescue to process my grey roots and make my hair beautiful once more.

Yes, I remember that my Thursday post (written and published the same day I am writing this) was about how I intend to be bald within the month. In the meantime, I’m doing my roots. Sue me.

What a long time 15 minutes takes when you are naked with chemicals on your hair.

That was when I stopped writing, because I wasn’t sure if I should talk about being naked. It might give somebody an unfortunate mental image.

And now I see I am over 300 words. Phew! I feel better! Although I’ll probably hate myself in the morning.

It Might Have Been a Cowboy

I don’t want to say I consumed insufficient caffeine this morning, but I almost left the house in my bedroom slippers. Just thought I’d throw in that unrelated remark, since I missed Non-Sequitur Thursday.

Yes, it is Lame Post Friday, my day of random observations and half-baked philosophy (I put in the explanation yet again for the benefit of new readers if any and to up my word count, because I really have very little to say today).

I do have one random observation that I wrote for use last Friday but mislaid the notebook when it was time to type it into the computer. I offer it now, although I wonder if it is as striking as it seemed when I first observed it.

As I drove along, in the car in front of me I could not see the driver’s head at all. The passenger’s head was this great big cowboy hat that reached the car roof. For a minute it looked as if this big old cowboy was being driven along by magic, or else by a tiny little cowgirl (I don’t know why I assigned the genders thusly, but so ran my thoughts) without a hat.

Then I got close enough to see the driver’s reflection in the side view mirror. A completely un-cowgirl-looking lady (why is my computer underlining “un-cowgirl-like”? Isn’t that a word?). Then I got closer yet and saw that what I had thought was a Stetson was the visor and the passenger was a perfectly ordinary sized person. What a disappointment!

I suppose at this point I could offer up some half-baked philosophy about disappointment or jumping to conclusions based upon a mere glance or why wasn’t I keeping my eye on the road instead of looking for cowboys in other vehicles. Well, I can’t think of anything philosophical to say, half-baked or otherwise, and I am extremely pressed for time.

I see that I am over 300 words. That is respectable. After all we don’t worry too much about content here at Mohawk Valley Girl (another topic ripe for some half-baked philosophy). I leave you to contemplate cowboys in other cars, and I hope you have a lovely weekend.

Bald-Faced Begging

I believe I mentioned my intention to shave my head at a St. Baldrick’s Day event June 2 in Richfield Springs, NY. I thought I’d better start doing something about raising some money for it, or else it might look as if I was just trying to sleaze a free haircut.

I’ve gotten a few donations on my donor web page through StBaldricks.org. I shared it on Facebook, and friends and family helped. Next I decided to hit up some of my work buddies and acquaintances. Armed with my donation envelope the St. Baldrick’s people had sent me, I steeled myself to beg.

In an earlier post I talked about how I HATE asking people for money. I must say, I hate it even more than I remember hating it. It’s not the sort of thing that once I start doing it I feel better about it and keep going. I find that it is just as embarrassing as I had feared it would be and feel even more hesitant to approach the next person.

It isn’t that people are rude. Most people are very nice. It turns out, though, that Monday was the wrong day to pick to start. See, payday at my workplace is Thursday. By Monday most people are broke. My main problem now is to determine when “Ask me again on payday” means just that and when it means “I don’t want to give you any money but don’t feel I can just say no.”

Some people reached into their pockets and gave me a couple of bucks. Others caught me later and handed me a donation. One fellow reminded me to ask him again Friday morning.

In short, I am slowly gaining enough donations so I won’t look foolish in front of the other bald people on June 2. If any of you lovely readers would like to help the cause (um, the cause is actually children’s cancer research, not Cindy not being embarrassed), here is a link to my donor page: http://www.stbaldricks.org/participants/mypage/642777/2013. Perhaps by the time I’m actually bald, I will have learned how to post a picture. Stay tuned!

Not That Clever

I quite frankly thought I could get a couple more blog posts out of my gyrations on Saturday, but as I sit here on Tuesday trying to write a post to publish on Wednesday, I feel myself succumbing to the dreaded Writer’s Blank.

And just as I was realizing I couldn’t be too blank since I had just written a paragraph, my break ended and I had to go back to work. By the next break I was blank again. What’s that all about?

I did a lot of running around on Saturday. I hit the Mohawk Valley Spring Bazaar, my church’s rummage sale, a consignment shop, an antique dealer, a thrift store, and the library. I left the grocery store for Sunday morning. If you go early enough, it isn’t very crowded.

As I planned my day, I had said to Steven, “Every stop is a blog post!”

It turns out, not so much. Well, I can’t always find something striking to purchase, have an amusing conversation with a clerk or even notice something memorable about the establishment. The sad truth is, I am not that clever.

So I guess I’m stuck with a Mid-Week Middle-aged Musing: It’s funny how you can run around all day and find yourself without anything to say about it (I probably could have made that rhyme, but I thought it might be too cute) (then, too, there is that not so clever thing).

The Boxy Purse

One of my stops on Saturday was a rummage sale at Christ Episcopal Church in Herkimer, NY. This is where I go to when I attend church, so I knew the ladies working. It’s always a pleasure to do business with friends.

I was ostensibly looking for one or two more items needed for the play we’re doing, but I got kind of absorbed in looking at the books. I found a few I wouldn’t mind reading.

My other purchase was an extremely silly one: a purse shaped like a box. Of course, there’s nothing wrong with buying an unusual purse, especially as I have a minor collection. But I laughed at my reason.

You see, many years ago, when the Seaway Valley Footlighters, our community theatre group up north, did Harvey, one actress was searching high and low for a “boxy” purse, such as the one carried by Grace Kelly in Rear Window. It was not really a big deal, and the character made do with the purse we found. Still, all involved agreed that a boxy purse would have been ideal.

“So what?” you might say. “Maybe you’ll do Harvey again sometime. Now you have the boxy purse.”

In fact, Ilion Little Theatre did do Harvey last year (I believe I may have written a blog post or two about it). Now that I think about it, I don’t believe the term “boxy purse” ever arose. The character in question certainly did not carry one.

Well, I suppose one never knows when an unusual purse might come in handy. Besides, it was dollar a bag day. I helped the rummage sale ladies get rid of some stuff.

Egg Update

I’m not exactly going to talk about that play I’m in (which I believe I’ve mentioned before). However, I thought I would talk some more about emptying egg shells which are needed as props.

Having successfully blown one egg with the egg blower my friend Rachel so generously sent me, I felt I was all set to prepare the poultry related props. Since Steven had gotten some deli ham (I think it was even turkey ham — lower in fat and calories!), I thought a ham and cheese omelet would make a nice Saturday supper. That way I would get a few more eggs blown.

My plan was to do the egg blowing earlier in the day, while Steven was at work, rather than when it was time to cook and we were both quite hungry. I would blow the eggs into a bowl with a lid and nicely store them in the refrigerator till needed. I could get at least four eggs ahead! This was going to be great! I got to work.

Good God, did this process really work for me before? I’m sure it must have; I wrote a blog post about it. Well, yesterday I even had a hard time putting the two little holes in the egg. Twist, don’t push; it’s a drill. Twist, twist, twist. Maybe push a little. Finally I accomplished it. Then I poked the doodah in (I believe doodah is the technical term used by native Ukranians), tried to add a little water, shook.

And spent about three hours blowing with the rubber bulb. OK, it was more like five or ten minutes, but when you’re puffing and puffing (luckily not with my lungs), watching this little blob of egg white kind of sort of poking out of this tiny hole, and it doesn’t appear to be getting any bigger… How do people do this with dozens of eggs to make those gorgeous baskets full of the decorative ones?

Eventually I had a blow-out. As Rachel told me, it was not a dramatic explosion, just the sort of crack you sometimes get when you boil an egg. I got the rest of the egg out through the crack. The crack didn’t go all the way around the shell, so I think it is still usable. Perhaps for a rehearsal prop.

The second egg took a while too but remained intact. I looked at the two eggs in the bowl, thought of a few more congenial chores I wanted to get done, and decided that when it was time to cook dinner I would crack the remaining eggs needed the regular way.

So I’ll be blowing a couple more eggs as the week progresses. Will it rate a blog post? Hard to say. I foresee a busy week. I’m afraid this blog may experience a Week of Lame. But I hope you’ll stay tuned.

Not Exactly a Running Start

I intend to go back to running after this play (which shall here remain nameless) is over. Then we’ll have some Running Commentary on a Saturday, I hope. In the meantime, here’s a post about my morning thus far.

One advantage of overtime in my job is I have to get up at 3:30 a.m. While this in and of itself may not be seen as an advantage, I feel the benefits on my day off, when I get up at 5 a.m. feeling rested and refreshed and still have plenty of day ahead of me. And, boy, do I need it today!

I won’t list all the crap I am hoping to fit in today (we’ll save that for Wrist to Forehead Sunday), but I’m feeling the pressure time-wise. Nevertheless, as I skipped Curves a couple of times this week to feel less pressure, a phrase remembered from a time management book keeps running through my head: If you are too busy to exercise, you are too busy. Period. (And here’s a topic for a future post: We like to add “Period” after a sentence for emphasis, but then we go on talking about the subject for another six or eight sentences.)

So I went to Curves at seven, when they opened. I confess, if they would have opened at nine, I would have considered myself off the hook and not felt bad about it. As it happened, I did my work out, made a couple of silly remarks along the way, and left feeling that after-workout buzz that I don’t always get.

Oh dear, I just realized I’m almost three hundred words into the post and I haven’t even gotten to the walk that I had originally intended to write about. What’s that all about? I can just hear one of you saying in that condescending voice I hate, “This is why we edit, Cindy.” Oh be quiet, I don’t have time to edit! At least I exercised! Exercise is much more important than editing (yet another statement that some will find open to debate, but I don’t have time for that either).

Full disclosure: I edited a little. I originally included in the first paragraph the statement that this would be a Pedestrian Post. I changed it. Now the previous paragraph is less germane. Would this be a good reason NOT to edit? Discuss.

Could Be the Lamest Post Yet

So I started writing at least three Friday Lame Posts at work today (while on a break OF COURSE). I don’t like any of them. And I have a very short time in which to come up with something else. OH NO!

No, it isn’t Wrist to Forehead Friday. For one thing, I don’t have time to make dramatic poses.

To be honest: as soon as I typed that sentence, I sat here staring at the screen, trying to think of something else to say. I had plenty of time to put my wrist onto my forehead. I was just too lazy.

Ah, that leads us into some half-baked philosophy suitable for Lame Post Friday (my meager brain hasn’t failed me yet!): A truism states that we all have time for the things that are truly important to us. Is this a true truism? Discuss.

I think that actually we don’t any of us have the time we’d like to have for all the things we’d like to do. However, most of us have more time than we will admit; we just take it up doing other things. This is hardly an earth shattering observation (and since the earth has never, in fact, shattered, I would submit that nobody has yet made an observation that can truly be described as such) (so now I feel better about that).

Where was I?

Ah yes, babbling on in hopes my word count will go high enough that I can call it a post. Hmmm… Over 200. That’s respectable.

Before I sign off, I will leave my readers with one thought. I thought all day about how it is sometimes difficult to write a post when Mohawk Valley Girl strives to adhere to the rule: If you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all.

We’ll see who gets worried about that one.

Postscript: As personal acquaintances know, in real life I don’t always follow that rule. I’m more akin to Dorothy Parker when she purportedly said, “If you can’t say anything nice, sit right here next to me.”

Would That Be A Sequitur?

Did I mention that I cannot plan anything? Oh, yes, I did, on Monday (you can arrow back to it if you’re interested; I’m too lazy to do one of those ping things). My plan this time was to write my Non-Sequitur Thursday and Lame Post Friday posts both on Thursday, to make my day easier on Friday. I began writing them on a break at work.

Can I FIND the notebook I was writing them in? NO! Am I a little STRESSED about it? YES! Do I NEED all these capital letters? APPARENTLY!

The funny thing is, what I had written for Thursday began with a lament about my current stress. And here I go adding to it by misplacing my notebook it was written in. That gives me a bit of a chuckle against myself, and laughter is a known stress reliever. You see how I go around in a circle. That must be why my friends say I’m dizzy (you know who you are) (oh yeah, like all my friends read every post).

So I’m feeling a bit better about the stress, but I realize it is scarcely a non sequitur. Really more of a logical progression. What’s that all about? I’m not a logical, organized, orderly person. I’m sitting here, typing off the cuff (as Truman Capote said, it’s not writing, it’s typing) (although in my case, I like to think it’s both). You would think I would be a little more non-sequitur-y about it.

I am going to feel a little bad about posting this, because I think it sounds kind of dumb. I don’t suppose I’ll feel bad enough to not post it, though. It can stand as a bad example and an encouragement to others: “Look at the tripe she publishes! I am obviously a MUCH better blogger than that!” (I see you use a lot of capital letters, too).