Category Archives: Kendallville

Guido has been found!!!!

We are not certain about anything here, but Guido either stealthily crept back in OR he moves between space/time dimensions. He turned up in a place I had searched many, many times. He does look a little frazzled.
guido found

Frankly, he looks a little spaced out.
But this is not the end of the story. HE WENT MISSING AGAIN. This time it was a short absence, but possibly a more dangerous one, seeing that he turned up in a bag that contained scissors.

found again

He demanded to be placed on sheepskin for contrast and we have posted a Bat Watch; if the alarm sounds, the Home Front Light Horse Brigade is ready to spring to action.

WordPress 4.4

I would say I have officially been left behind. WordPress, over the years, has been updating and then nagging me to follow along. And I have; but now I am truly following blindly. Under the heading What’s New?, the people at WP pointed out some things and down at the bottom they had actually code to invigorate comment arguments.

You read that correctly and here’s the exact quote: New arguments in WP_Comment_Query make crafting robust comment queries simpler. falling back on the “Uh” used by people fumbling around for something to say, I feel the need to utter, “Uh, what are you talking about?” Of course, they are not talking; they are writing; I say this simply to indicate I am not an overwhelming idiot who flunked English and can’t discern the proper use of words, I was just expressing myself colloquially.

I do think one could make an argument that my posts could be more robust, but I don’t think that is what is being commented on here. Actually, what I believe it boils down to is giving computer code savvy people an easier and faster way to express the following universal exchange:

YEAH?
OH, YEAH!!
YOUR MOMMMA!
BITE ME!

Then the more clever of the jousters will play the Trump card and perhaps go a pun too far and refer to Rubio’s Cube in relation to blockhead.

Guido is missing

If you think I’ve been out of touch, well, it’s nothing compared to Guido the Bat. I have been looking for him for two weeks. Der Bingle and I have been down on our tummies looking under chairs in sofas in Indiana and Ohio.

I suppose he could be on a secret mission, but it’s not like him to be gone for over an hour . . . and it has been days, weeks. I’ve been so upset I’ve been cleaning. I have shaken blankets, clothes, boxes, bags and baskets. No Guido.

I distracted myself for a couple of hours this afternoon by sitting hearthside and watching The Sea Wolves with David Niven, Roger Moore and Trevor Howard. Maybe I was trying to lure him home.

OH, MY DEAR GUIDO: WHERE ARE YOU????

Over a decade in the past in Kendallville

HERE IS AN ARTICLE I WROTE ABOUT GOING TO A MOVIE AT THE STRAND WITH MY GRANDSON published in Kendallville Mall.

The name of the movie was “Secondhand Lions.” And “we two” were in the audience, each with a large cola in the drink holder and a large bucket of popcorn between us.

I am the elder of this two-person club, by a good 44 years. I am the grandma. Specifically, I am the grandma who likes good books and good movies and has always been drawn to stories where characters try to pull themselves up to what is right.

I am the grandma with scenes in her head: Humphrey Bogart in the rain in Casablanca telling Ingrid Bergman about how if the plane leaves without her she’ll regret it – maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but soon and for the rest of her life.

I remember Gregory Peck leaving the courtroom in “To Kill a Mockingbird.” I can see David Niven’s quiet determined bravery in “55 Days in Peking.”

But let us not think of me – this grandma – as a gentle soul of soft voice and compassionate character.

No, I am also the grandma who looks at a refrigerator door standing open and yells, “The next person who doesn’t shut this door is going to . . . “ Well, let’s not go into what exactly it is that I yell; let us settle on the notion that I can be pretty inventive.

I am the grandma who looks over her glasses and inquires, “Now exactly how long have you known about this project . . . that is due tomorrow?”

Now the younger partner on this “we two” team is 10, soon to be 11 . . . and he is Cameron, the grandson. He likes video games and action movies and is constantly badgering me for permission to build up forts and such in a computer game called “Stronghold” which is installed on MY computer.

However, he is also the boy who gets up before school to turn on the Animal Planet Channel or the History Channel. And once, he and I stayed up way past our bedtimes to watch “Attila the Hun.”

So when I saw Cory Renkenberger, manager of the Strand in the Do-It-Center and he said “Secondhand Lions” was coming the following week, it got my attention. I remembered the magazine reviews I’d read and I thought that any movie where Michael Caine and Robert Duvall star as two old eccentrics who spent 40 years of derring-do in Africa and are now hosting a great-nephew for a summer should be pretty good.

Actually, maybe too good to see alone . . . and maybe too good to see with a brood. So the idea came to me of “we two” – Cameron and I.

We went on a school night – homework done first – and were first in the theater. And this takes us back to the beginning . . . in the theater with the drinks and popcorn.

While waiting for the movie to start, we munched our way about three-quarters of the way down the popcorn container. Cameron looked at me and said, “Why, Grandma, I think you’ve outdone yourself.”

I got us a refill.

The lights went down . . . the movie came on. We watched through the exciting parts, the funny parts, the sad parts and the part where Robert Duvall gives a portion of his “how to be a man” speech.

He told the boy there are just some things you ought to believe in – honor and courage and virtue . . . some things you just need to believe are true – such as people being basically good.

I didn’t look over at the boy sitting next to me, but I thought of him – of us sitting there together in a small town theater . . . and I remembered another movie I had seen over a decade ago –“Shadowlands”

That movie was based on aspects of C.S. Lewis’ life. Anthony Hopkins played the title role and he spoke of feeling happiness lay in what was over the crest of a hill, around the bend of a road. Then later in the movie he reconsiders and talks about happiness being “here and now and that’s enough.”

I feel the pull of the crest of a hill, the bend in a road . . . but in that theater, in this little town, the here and now of “we two” was enough.

Put in perspective in Kendallville, Indiana

Right now I live in a small town in a nondescript state in the Midwest – nothing exotic or romantic about Indiana . . . no Big Sky country, no mountains, etc. At times I have sighed about that. And in this small town in this blah state, I have been feeling a bit down this holiday season.

Then, just a little while ago, I received news that a four-year-old little girl in my very extended family has a mass in her stomach and it is cancer. I remember when my sons were four – blond hair, baby teeth, pajamas with feet in them. I don’t even want to walk up close to imagining how I would have felt at such news. Walking around the periphery in my mind leaves me dumbfoundedly numb. What awful news to receive.

This is, of course, the kind of news that will make one feel down in the holiday season, and it sure makes my piques and frustrations seem embarrassingly minute. But, human nature being what it is, I’m certain I will again lose my perspective and be whining. It’s kind of sad to realize that.

Frank Sinatra and Joe Biden

I see on the news page that today would have been Sinatra’s 100th birthday. I think he was a cad. I once looked at a house and announced I would never buy it because it was full of
Sinatra albums. Totally cleaned out and repainted, I would always be aware that Sinatra had been supreme in that house. Lauren Bacall did not have a good opinion of him – and she actually knew him and dated him.

We all know AmeliaJake can’t stand Joe Biden – thinks he’s an absolute bozo. And now the word is out about Frank Sinatra. In fact, I simply cannot bear to spend any more time thinking of that man.

The road taken

This morning I wondered if I should post some thoughts or go clean my granddaughter’s room because I couldn’t stand it anymore. Well, I went up there and THREE hours later emerged from a partly cleaned room. I had my frowny face on. Now I am on a crusade, which is not to be confused with a jihad.

I decided I’d better get to the pharmacy and pick up my statin before I lost my stasis. (Yeah, that was a stretchy word play, but the heck with it. It helped; not as much as swearing, but it did help.

I saw this at Wal-Mart when I went to get package tape:
tasty boys

I found it amusing, and, on reflection, given the way today’s path took me, maybe this might be a useful thing to learn – or I could buy an army of little ninja gingerbread men

Bing Crosby and I are just dreaming about Christmas

I’m sitting here and Bing’s dead, but it works via technology. That’s the good part of the morning; the unfortunate part involved a mildew/mold with bleach pump spray bottle malfunctioning and backfiring, sending its back plug flying heaven knows where and cleaner onto my shirt.

I immediately started to spot. My shirt (most of it) is burgundy and it looks as if an animal with rose paws jumped on me and ran around. Not to be outdone by fate, I broke off the entire lid and poured the stuff into the tub, making a dilute solution. I did post a note to people that it wasn’t a bubble bath waiting for them, although I think the smell might alert them. It ain’t little old lady lavender.

I told Bing about it, but this technology thing is a one-way deal and he is still happily singing about Christmas in Killarney and Mele Kalikimaka, which is how they say Merry Christmas “where the palm trees sway.”

Followed my inclinations

Yesterday, I was quite adamant about not doing chores and I kept to my desire. I did none. To heck with the guilt trip thing. I built a fire downstairs and watched two movies: Dirty Harry and L.A. Confidential. I’m a classy chick, no? Yes, you’re right: NO. we roasted hot dogs over the fire, with a discussion on whether to put the catsup on the bun and then add the hot dog or do it in reverse. I prefer the former.

There was also some confusion for one of the viewers that can be summarized with the repeated voiced question: Just who are the bad and good guys? With a fire and hot dogs, it was not something I was concerned about – Russell Crowe didn’t get killed and that was good enough for moi.