I put the PRO in procrastination.

Overheard at coffee hour after church.

Definition: “The act or habit of procrastinating, or putting off or delaying, especially something requiring immediate attention.”

Sometimes it seems that everything requires immediate attention: It’s time to make a salad for dinner (My Other Half has a chicken stew in the crock pot, and the scent is stimulating our appetites). I need to check the library on the Internet and renew the books that are due today–because we procrastinated about getting them back in time. The cats want dinner “Now-ow-ow.” When I look out the window, there’s a cloud with a vertically-lined curtain draped from it, so the laundry needs to come in off the line fast. And my priority this afternoon is to find out how Nate Tanner and his friend Hi-Ho Silberman are going to make Halloween monster costumes–in other words, the first draft of a new story.

Maybe the penalty for procrastination is everything needing to be done NOW. Maybe that’s just life and we should both sit down for a cup of tea first?

A cup of tea calls for a cookie… We’ll have a snack now, dinner later.

Albert Einstein Didn’t Wear Socks!

Harry Cauley’s claim to fame (one of them) is that he mowed Albert Einstein’s lawn.

Actually, Harry Cauley can claim a great deal more.   He has not only written plays, but directed and produced them.  He has written and produced for popular TV shows.  He writes novels.

The book he wrote that I like best is Speaking of Cats, but that’s another post.

Harry Cauley was a special guest at my writers’ club.  We could have listened to him talk for hours!  He told us about growing up on the street where Albert Einstein lived, a close enough neighbor so he was the boy who mowed the Einstein’s lawn.  As far as Harry was concerned, Mr. Einstein was not a famous man—he was a neighbor.

Harry’s mother said Mr. Einstein didn’t dress properly.  (But it was still okay for Harry to earn pocket money mowing his lawn.)  She was shocked because “Mr. Einstein doesn’t wear socks!”

You can see for yourself in a photo by the National Geographic. I don’t have the right to use photo, but you can see it at:

Do YOU ever wear sandals without socks?  Don’t we usually wear sandals when we don’t want to wear socks?  Do mothers ever fuss about little stuff?

Who is Roy Wen?

My Other Half is a dedicated Word-Find fan.  Those are the puzzles that look like scrambled alphabet in columns, and you are supposed to search out words up and down, back and forth, and diagonally.  I fail completely when it comes to finding an actual word by reading diagonally from upper right to lower left, so I don’t even try.  I think something about his dyslexia (don’t ask him to spell anything!) somehow helps with word search.

A few minutes ago he was working on a history-themed word search and detected the name “Roy Wen” in this string:  “EYTICKROYWENILR.”     Curious, he did an internet search and found plenty named”Roy Wenzel” which didn’t help a bit because of the ILR instead of ZEL.  Then there’s the word TICK.

He figured it out.  You can, too:  Take the E off the beginning and the IRL off the end, and read backwards, or, if you are like me, re-write the remaining letters in reverse order.  You got it!

I respect Colin Kaepernick

I find it ridiculous that kneeling for the National Anthem is considered disrespectful to our flag.

  • We kneel in awe at a Power greater than ourselves.  We kneel in petition to a king or queen (or we did generations ago–I’m not up on today’s court etiquette).  Some people kneel to pray in church, or at home.  Protest becomes an active prayer when there are wrongs that need to be righted.  Seeing a wrong, really seeing and understanding it, is enough to send persons of conscience to their knees.
  • When I was growing up, there were towns and States where black people could not sit in restaurants or on buses and black children could not go to swimming pools.  People were upset when they sat in protest, and I don’t think there’s any difference when people protest if a  black player kneels, but not when a white one (like Tim Tebow) kneels or bows in prayer.
  • Disrespect, as I see it, is wandering around eating a hot dog or sipping a cola while the anthem is played.  Or making obscene gestures.  Or yelling in protest.  Or continuing a conversation.   It bugs me if I’m in someone’s home when a game comes on and everyone remains seated and continues chatting during the national anthem.
  • For that matter, not respecting what our flag stands for: freedom of speech, justice for all, respect for those whose beliefs,  color, abilities, tattoos, politics, or language differ from ours–is more important than a person’s posture when the flag is displayed.
  • Kneeling has never been associated with disrespect.  You wouldn’t kneel before a man you couldn’t respect unless you were forced to!  If you disrespect someone, you turn your back, or walk off to do something else, or keep talking to another person, or tell him exactly what you think!

I cannot respect a man who tweets, with language I don’t want our grandchildren to hear, about firing people who stand up–or kneel down–for what’s right, honorable, and respectful of others.

Of course I respect Colin Kaepernick, and I hope some NFL person, or whoever makes those decisions, will hire him so he can put his talents to work.

YES, I KNOW THE HEADER PHOTO IS NEITHER NFL NOR FOOTBALL.  I have to confess that the last sports event we attended was Lacrosse, and we love these active little boys!

Eclipse Through a Collander

We stayed home for the historic eclipse and watched totality five times on the NASA live-streaming site for which we didn’t need eclipse glasses. We aren’t on the path of totality, but we did feel a slight cooling like when the sun sets, although our sky remained bright blue.

The NASA site offered tips for safe viewing.  One was:  “You can use a kitchen colander for a pinhole view.”


The colander, such as you might use to drain spaghetti.

I held it over a sheet of white paper.   Our photos show about how much of the sun was eclipsed in our part of Southern California.

Our colander view is fuzzy, but you can see that almost half the sun was eclipsed where we are.