Everyday Life | Susan Writes

Grand Finale of Falls

Posted on August 6, 2015 by susanrray

“If you were shorter, I think you would’ve caught your balance and wouldn’t have fallen,” said my friend Kathy, who witnessed my arms and legs flail as I tried to catch myself after tripping. I had to laugh. Kathy probably cuts 8 inches off of a pair of store-bought pants to shorten them and I could add those 8 inches to my pants so they’d come to my ankles. If I were her height, I wouldn’t have flipped in the air and hit the side of my head on a piano. But I did.

Catching my balance doesn’t come naturally to me. Never has. I was eight years old when I fell on the blacktop road running to my Granny’s house. She scrubbed my skinned knee with soap and water and painted it with Mercurochrome. For many years, I sported a white silver-dollar size scar.

I was a Tennessee Tech student and the chimes rang the hour for my class to begin. I ran and jumped over a low chain beside the sidewalk, caught my toe on the chain, and landed on the sidewalk. Books, pens, notebooks, and purse scattered. I hobbled into class, late. Torn pantyhose. Blood on the sleeves of my white blouse. Kleenex stuck on skinned elbows and knees. “Glad you made it,” my instructor said.

When I was 27, I fell in the middle of the dance floor at a wedding reception. One of those fancy summertime county club receptions. We women wore long dresses and dangling earrings. The music stopped for intermission and guests gathered around tables covered white floor length tablecloths and adorned with massive floral arrangements. I spotted a friend across the room that I hadn’t seen in years and rather than walk the long way around the room’s perimeter, I walked across the empty dance floor. A floor must have been oiled on only one spot – right in the middle. My feet went up, my backend down. If the collective sign “OH…” shouted by the 200 guests could have had the power to lift me, I would have immediately stood. But it didn’t, so Husband and friends came to my aid. No visible injuries. Deep embarrassment. I’ve never walked across an empty space in a crowded room since.

My fall that Kathy witnessed four weeks ago was my Grand Finale, I hope. How many people do you know who have stood on a stage, taken two steps, lost her balance on a slightly uneven floor, danced alone with flailing arms and legs, flipped, smacked into a grand piano, and landed under that piano? According to the four friends who watched, a stunt girl couldn’t have done better.

If I were shorter, I would’ve stopped after the dance and regained my balance. But I didn’t. So here’s what I now know. A piano is harder than my head. A concussion takes time and patience to heal. Quiet and calm and sleep are healing. So are notes and visits from family and friends. Husband is a top-notch caregiver.

And patience must be practiced. And practiced. And practiced. Day, after day, after day.

Filed under: Accidents, Everyday Life | Tagged: concussion, fall, piano | 2 Comments »

Grab Your Checkbook

Posted on June 11, 2015 by susanrray

“$450,000. That’s what we need. What we’ll raise! ” Ashley announced. I took a deep breath and struggled not to raise my eyebrows. I was surrounded by twenty young mothers and a few dads. Mothers with babies in arms. This was a meeting of people interested in building a new all inclusive Cookeville playground. Ashley had invited me to attend, and I was the only person there who had gray hair, except for the City of Cookeville staff member.

It was September 2014 and work had already been done. Ashley Swann and Kelly Swallows convinced the City of Cookeville to donate land and maintain the playground. And they had talked with Jeff Davidson, director of Rising Above Ministries, who had researched all-inclusive playgrounds for all age groups.

During the meeting, Kelly presented an update on playground designs from Leathers and Associates, a company that has built more than 3000 playgrounds in all fifty states. She shared pictures of playgrounds that are safe and provide physical and imaginative play. Then Kelly pointed to corners of the city council room for each committee to gather and make plans. Volunteers. Special events. Publicity. Fundraising. I dragged my chair toward the fundraising group, where Ashley thought I could provide suggestions.

“Ok, anyone got ideas how to get money?” Elizabeth Binkley, the committee chair, asked. The moms threw out ideas. Sell t-shirts. Collection canisters at schools. Golf tournaments. A gala. Again, I breathed deeply. My limited fund-raising knowledge told me that to raise $450,000 there’d be a plan to secure a donation of $100,000, two $50,000, and look for donors for $20,000 and $10,000.

“So how much money do you have now? What’s promised?” I asked.

“About $33,000. Money raised for a playground years ago,” Elizabeth said. Money raised by a Kids Kingdom committee and given to the City of Cookeville to be used solely for a downtown community playground. “We’ll raise the rest. We want everyone in Cookeville to participate and feel like this is their playground.”

Now it’s eight months later and these get-it-done mommas and their families have worked hard. They’ve called on stores, restaurants, factories, banks –most Cookeville businesses. Through an All in for Ten campaign, they collected $24,000, with some children giving ten pennies and most people giving $10. They held a Gangster Gala and raised $55,000. Fam Fest brought in $6,300. Churches have made donations: $90,000 and $25,000. The largest business or individual donation has been $24,000; the least, 10 cents. Another event, Touch the Truck, is planned for June 13.

Here’s the bottom line: $350,000 has been raised. Another $100,000 is needed by mid-July! The Heart of the City Playground will be built by volunteers, led by personnel from Leathers and Associates, at Dogwood Park September 29- October 4. It will be a 12,000 square foot fully accessible, all-inclusive enclosed playground where you will take your children and grandchildren. If another $100,000 is not raised, some play equipment will not be included.

It’s time for all of us – parents and grandparents – to grab our checkbooks! Contributions are tax-deductible and can be made at www.HeartOfTheCityTN.com or mail a check, made out to Cookeville Community Playground, to Cookeville Playground, 370 S. Lowe Ave, A-391, Cookeville, TN 38501. On the website or on Facebook (Heart of the City Playground), pick out something, such as a Pirate Ship or fence pickets, that you can fully fund.

I can’t wait until October to take my Grands to the playground! A playground that will be built because a group of young mothers raised $450,000 – their way. I salute these women and I’m writing a check. Let’s all jump on this bandwagon!

Filed under: Everyday Life, Games, Play | Tagged: checkbook, Heart of the City, Playground | Leave a comment »

Old Time Sayings

Posted on June 4, 2015 by susanrray

My lands alive! A firestorm of old expressions has filled my Facebook page. A couple of weeks ago in this column I wrote, “The very idea of paying good money ($125) to bring a rabbit across country on an airplane. Well, that beats all, as Granny used to say.” And then I posted on Facebook, “What are the sayings, the phrases, which your grandparents said and we no longer say?”

I pon my honor, it’s our responsibility to carry on our heritage, and that includes language for goodness sakes! My friends have shared more sayings than I can shake a stick at and I’m mighty proud to pass them on.

We all know of a man who’s tough as nails and Johnny on the spot. And when he married, he jumped the broom with his sweetheart. They made their home down the holler aways. Way back in the boonies. And if you took the long way to their house, you went around John Brown’s barn and back.

This young couple is probably as happy as a coon in a roasting ear patch. But the wife might be a bit scared – as nervous as a cat on a hot tin roof ‘cause she’d ain’t never lived in timbuktu with all the varmints. Sakes, alive! She ought to be happy. Their house is finer than frog hair and her husband, as honest as the day is long. Dontcha’ know he’s a right smart man. After all, he didn’t just roll off the turnip truck. Good Lord willing and the creek don’t rise this young couple will have a houseful of youngens. Maybe a towhead or two.

And we all probably know someone who doesn’t do diddley squat. His house is leaning toward Hodges and he got his haywagon catty wompomus in the barn. He can’t fix nothing right. He finagles his way out of problems. They say his daddy was the same way. You know the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. Yep, yep, I’m satisfied that’s right.

When he was a boy and cried over spilled milk, his momma said, “Stop crying or I’ll give you something to cry about.” And when his momma had put up with his antics all day and had a snootful of him, she’d spank him and say, “This hurts me more than it hurts you.” Flitter, we know that’s not true. Poor little guy, he was always wishing for things and his momma told him, “If a bullfrog had wings, it wouldn’t bump its butt.” And if he ever said he couldn’t do something, his momma said, “Can’t never could.”

And we’ve all seen women who disagree over something that don’t amount to a hill of beans. They talk out both sides of their mouths or out their elbows. Mercy me! That’s when I’m glad I don’t have a dog in that fight. I’m like the little boy who fell out of the wagon, I ain’t in it. Whatever floats their boats or blows their dresses up is fine with me. I declare to my time some people will fuss till’ the cows come home.

Thank you, friends, for reminding me of many expressions that I pert near forgot. Such is life, for goodness sakes. And I learned a saying I’ve never heard before: I wish I may never, since here I’ve been. Say what?

Filed under: Everyday Life, Memories, Old Time Sayings | Tagged: old expressions, old time phrases, old time sayings, say what | Leave a comment »

Clean off the Bookshelf

Posted on April 22, 2015 by susanrray

Which ones to keep? Which to give away? It’s springtime and time to unclutter. My bookshelf is overflowing and some books – adult books – need to go. Children’s books stay on my shelves. I just read a Facebook post entitled About Books written by John Acuff, who calls himself Old Country Lawyer.

For many years now I have read many books

At times reading up to three a week

After I have read them they stack up

I decided this morning to begin to pass on some of the books

John’s post encourages me to share my books. I naively think that I’ll pull all the books that I’ve read and don’t plan to read again. I’ll give some to the Putnam County Library for their monthly book sale. Take others to the Little Library on Whitson Avenue that’s available for anyone take a book, leave a book, or do both.

The very first paperback includes language that I hope to never hear or read again. Trash it. But it’s made of paper. Should I recycle it? What if it gets in the hands of young person? Should I burn this book?

A hardback book is signed by the author with a personal inscription to me. Not a best seller, but I enjoyed it because I know the author. Should I tear out that page and give the book away?

I have a huge collection of inspirational books, mostly gifts. Books to inspire me as a teacher, a mother, a grandmother, a friend, a woman. It takes all the self-control I can muster not to sit down, pour a glass of iced tea, and read. How can I discard books that were given when my first child was born or many years later when Mom passed away? Personal notes written on the inside covers make all worth keeping.

Travel guidebooks. I can certainly get rid of books about places I’ve been. But there are pages turned down in Fodor’s, Exploring London. And I wrote notes. Where I ate lunch. What I ate. And notes about Big Ben. It’s like a journal.

Ah, finally some books to cull. Paperbacks bought to read while sitting on the beach or travelling on a long trip. One, two, three. I’m on a roll. Wait. That’s not my book. JoAnn’s name is on the front cover and the copyright date is 10 years ago. So did I borrow it then and never return it? I don’t even remember that book. Maybe she’s forgotten it too or maybe she has a record of books she’s loaned and knows I never returned it.

As Old Country Lawyer delved into his book collection he noted some of the same dilemmas. And he ended his writing with these lines.

Sacking up the secular for Good Will
And a select few will be disposed of for fear they may lead someone astray
What are you doing with the stuff you know you need to be rid of?
Pray for me as I sort through my stuff
My prayer is that we all unclutter our lives and concentrate on what really matters.

My task isn’t going as planned. All the books fit on the shelf. I’ll dust and straighten and move on to things that really matter. Like returning JoAnn’s book and hope she has time for a glass of tea.

Filed under: Books, Children, Everyday Life | Tagged: books, Bookshelves, Clean off, Old Country Lawyer | 1 Comment »

Cheap or Thrifty?

Posted on March 19, 2015 by susanrray

I’m all for saving money when something inexpensive works as well as something high priced. That’s why I have clothespins in a kitchen drawer and an ice cube tray in my clothes closet.

I’ve seen those fancy decorative clips to secure opened bags of chips and bread, but I just can’t shell out a dollar or two for one when I can buy a package of 24 metal spring clothespins for $1.19. I do have two fancy clothespins decorated with rhinestone jewels and blue painted flowers and every time I fasten a bag chips with one, I think of and appreciate my friend Cathy who gave them to me. But the wooden pins with wire springs work just as well for five cents each! Maybe I could have a craft day and decorate my plain clothespins. With markers, a bottle of glue, and some fancy jewels, those ordinary clothespins could be transformed into art, but they wouldn’t keep my chips any fresher.

A white plastic ice cube tray on a shelf in my closet holds my earrings. Expensive and beautiful and cute jewelry holders have never tempted me. When I was a teen I had a jewelry box – just like every female in the 1960s – that set on my bedroom dresser. Now that white box lined with pink satin is stored away with other treasures, like my diary and report cards. For forty years I’ve kept my earrings in the same white plastic ice tray. It’s perfect. I can put one or two pair in each of the 16 places that was really made for an ice cube. And if I need to replace this tray, it’ll cost less than a dollar. That’s cheap enough!

One of my favorite penny-pinching tricks is making garlic and onion salt. When I learned that these salts could be made from garlic or onion powder and regular table salt, I couldn’t use up the bottles of garlic and onion salts in my cabinet fast enough so I could make my own inexpensive mixture. I made extra batches of Chex Mix at Christmastime and coated pork ribs and chicken breasts – everything I cooked – with seasoned salts until finally the bottles were empty.

It’s a simple 1 to 3 ratio. Use 1 part garlic powder or onion powder to 3 parts salt and mix well. A 2.6 ounce bottle of garlic salt costs $2.19 and the same size bottle of garlic powder is $3.39. A box of salt, that hold ten times as much, costs $0.99. There’s about 5 tablespoons in a 2.6 ounce bottle so for $4.38 I can make more than seven bottles of garlic salt and still have enough salt to fill every salt shaker I own. A 2.6 ounce bottle of my mixture of garlic salt costs about sixty cents! $2.19 or $0.60 cents for garlic salt? The $1.59 difference makes it worth my one minute to measure a tablespoon of garlic powder and three tablespoons of salt into an empty store bought garlic salt bottle and shake the bottle.

I like to think I’m thrifty, not cheap. Thrifty sounds so much better than cheap.

Filed under: Everyday Life, Money | Tagged: cheap, clothespin, garlic salt, ice cube tray, onion salt, thrifty | 2 Comments »

Never Run Out of Hugs

Posted on February 12, 2015 by susanrray

I love all the hugs that I share with my Grands. And just as each Grand is different from the other, so are their hugs.

I held my arms out to Dean, age 3 ½, and asked, “Do you have a hug?” He spread his arms wide, threw them around my neck and said, “I never run out of hugs!” Until the next day. Dean sat on my lap as I read aloud Little Blue Truck Leads the Way. I read the last page, squeezed him with one arm and said, “How about a hug?”

Dean shook his head and grinned. “No hugs. I don’t have any,” he said and he jumped onto the floor and stood beside me. I told him I’d give him one of my hugs and I did. “Now you have a hug to give,” I said. Dean wrapped his arms across his chest, raised his shoulders and clutched them with his hands. “I gave me a hug!” he said.

Dean’s little brother, Neil who is 21 months old, laid his head on my shoulder and wrapped his arms around me. A whole body hug. Later, I sat on the couch and watched Neil line up his matchbox cars on the windowsill. Then he held a car in each hand, stood, and turned his back to me. He walked backward until his back touched my knees and then he looked up at me. That was my signal to pick him up onto my lap. Neil pushed himself back against me and sat still. Another whole body hug.

Elaine, who is also 3 ½, has perfected the welcome hug. When I open the back door to her family’s home, I hear the slap of Elaine’s feet as she runs toward me. Her arms form a T with her body. Her eyes and mouth are open wide. I quickly sit on the nearest chair or squat down. “Gran!” she screams, just before she throws her arms around me. It’s a two-arm around the neck squeeze and a kiss on my cheek. If I don’t sit or squat fast enough, it’s a two-arm around the knees squeeze and a kiss on my thigh.

Lou, 7 years old, surprised me last week. I turned my van’s motor off and expected her to undo her seat belt, open the van door, jump out, say “Bye, Gran,” and run into her house as she usually does. She stood behind my driver’s seat. After her older brother got out of the van, I asked, “Lou? Everything okay?” She put her arm around my shoulder and her head beside mine. “Gran, thank you for taking me places. I love you.” Then she opened the van door, jumped out, and ran up the back porch steps to her house. She stopped at her family’s back door, turned toward me, and waved. I counted that as another hug.

Virginia Satir, a respected psychologist and family therapist, is often quoted. She said, “We need four hugs a day for survival. We need eight hugs a day for maintenance. We need twelve hugs a day for growth.” I agree.

A good thing about hugs is when you give one, you get one, and then you’ll be like Dean – you’ll never run out of hugs.

Filed under: Everyday Life, Friends, Grandchildren | Tagged: Grandchildren, Hugs | Leave a comment »

Canning Tomatoes

Posted on August 13, 2014 by susanrray

The sign read, ‘Canning Tomatoes $15.’ A 5-gallon bucket was filled to the rim with tomatoes of all sizes. All dusty, with garden dirt. I’d planned to buy a few tomatoes to eat, but I could almost taste Mom’s vegetable soup that she made from home canned tomatoes when I was a kid.

“These were picked a couple of hours ago,” said Mr. Smith. I couldn’t resist. He transferred the tomatoes to a brown cardboard box. “Here, take more.” He piled another dozen tomatoes in the box.

Some tomatoes needed to ripen a few days. I washed the ones ready to can – those that were dead ripe or had cracks near the stems. No need to look at a recipe book. Mom taught me the basics of canning many years ago.

I filled my biggest pot half full of water and searched my cabinets for empty quart jars. I found only three, but I had plenty of pint jars. I started to the basement to get my blue hot water bath canner and remembered that last time I use it the bottom was so warped that I’d gotten rid of it. Maybe my kitchen pot could work as a canner.

Using a long handled spoon, I dropped tomatoes into the boiling water and when the skins cracked open, I plunged them into cold water. After all the tomatoes were scalded, I washed the pot and refilled it with water for a boiling water bath.

The tomato skins slid right off. I filled three quart and four pint jars with cored and quartered tomatoes. I added a little salt to each filled jar, wiped the rims clean and dry, and screwed on scalded two-piece canning lids. There are many ways to can tomatoes. I learned my way when I stood on a kitchen chair beside Mom, and now admiring my filled jars, I felt a connection to her that felt good.

I set the quart jars into the pot of almost boiling water and the water barely covered the top of the jars and almost overflowed the pot. Then I pulled out my vintage Ball Blue Book for Canning and Freezing, copyright 1956 and read that the water level should be 1-2 inches above the can tops. Surely, my 18-quart stockpot would work.

It wasn’t easy transferring boiling water and filled jars to another pot. Although this pot was plenty deep, it was big enough for only six, not seven, jars. So I decided to do the quarts and then the pints. The glass lid for this pot had been broken several years ago so I ripped off a piece of heavy-duty aluminum foil and made a lid, with the edges hanging over the pot. I set a timer for 45 minutes, the processing time, adjusted the temperature control to keep the water boiling, and walked away for maybe two minutes.

What was I thinking? I could hear Mom say, “Be sure you have everything you need before you start.” Which would’ve included a real canner with lid. Steaming hot water dripped from the foil and also ran down the sides of the pot onto the ceramic stovetop. What a mess. For 45 minutes, I stood by the stove wiping up water, and then did the same for another 35 minutes to process the pint jars.

Those seven jars of tomatoes will make really good vegetable soup. And there are more tomatoes to can. But first, I’m going shopping – for a canner.

Filed under: Everyday Life | Tagged: canning, canning tomatoes, hot water canner, tomatoes | 1 Comment »

For Better, Not Worse

Posted on June 25, 2014 by susanrray

My friends said that I’m in trouble. Said I have some adjusting to do. Said I should give Husband and me some time. Said it’ll work out, but it won’t be easy. Said it’s not like anything we’ve experienced in our marriage. These four college girlfriends have known Husband and me since he and I first met, and my friends have all been where we’re going, but I think they’re wrong.

For all the 44 years of our married life, Allen, husband who I must call by name for this column, has worked. Except for short vacations, he’s showered, shaved, dressed, and gone to work five days a week. Next week, he won’t. He won’t go to the office before 8:00 a.m., come home around noon, make his own lunch, eat, go back to work, and come home for the evening after 5:00. Allen is retiring.

My friends told horror stories about some newly retired husbands, but not theirs. One husband completely reorganized everything in the kitchen cabinets. One expected three meals a day, cooked and served. Another thought he should know where his wife was every minute of every day and what she was doing. One walked from his bed to his living room recliner and called it exercise. And one husband suddenly needed to know the exact cost of every item that his wife bought at the grocery store.

Allen won’t do any of those things. So why are my girlfriends concerned? When they ask what Allen planned to do, I said that he might want to work part time. He’ll want somewhere to go and something to do. And I said that I plan to continue my erratic come-and-go-as-I-please schedule, and I have a list of places for Allen and me to go and things to do.

I retired five years ago and adjusted quiet easily. I like my quiet mornings. No TV, no radio, and a leisurely breakfast on our back deck, if the weather is good. During the past five years, Allen went to work and I spent the day however I wanted. Exercised at the YMCA. Played with my Grands. Hid in my closet office and moved my fingers across my computer keyboard. Ate lunch with friends. Piddled the day away. I didn’t completely neglect household chores. Laundry and dusting and grocery shopping got done – in due time.

I’m really happy for Allen. He began working when he was 12 years old. He stocked shelves and swept the floor at his family’s grocery store where he continued to work through his college years. And he’s worked ever since. In retail business. For Tennessee Tech. Owned and managed convenience stores. For an insurance agency. But starting next week, he won’t go to work. And he and I will have a grand time together, won’t we?

I think my girlfriends are wrong. Just because they and their husbands struggled through a year-long adjustment period after they both retired, doesn’t mean the same for Allen and me. This chapter of our marriage is the ‘for better’ not ‘for worse,’ isn’t it?

Filed under: Everyday Life, Family, Friends | Tagged: friends' advice, husband retires, retired | 4 Comments »

Another Flood

Posted on April 30, 2014 by susanrray

I awoke to the noise of the wet vacuum roaring. Husband wasn’t anywhere in sight. Even in my half-awake state, I knew somewhere in our house there was a water mess. Maybe I’d just cover my head and pretend I slept right through whatever was happening. But I couldn’t.

It was 5:30 a.m. and at 1:00 p.m., thirty women were coming to my house for a meeting. I’d cleaned, set up folding chairs – done everything to be ready. I frantically tried to think if I’d left water running the night before. I thought of the day I’d stopped up the utility room sink, turned on the water, and then, two hours later, water-soaked ceiling tiles fell in the garage. And I remembered the time I supervised one of our Grands during his bath, and he poured water around the bathtub to make a moat. The office under the bathroom was flooded. Now what?

Following the vacuum noise, I found Husband in the basement den. The carpet was soaked and water covered the bathroom tile floor. I stood quietly until he saw me and turned off the vacuum. “Did I leave something on?” I asked. No. The water leak was behind a commode. The shut-off valve had sprung a leak. When Husband awoke and heard water running, he discovered a spraying fountain.

“The only way I could stop the spray was to turn off the main water supply. There’s no water in the house. Don’t’ turn on any faucets or flush a commode,” Husband said. He turned on the wet vac and resumed his chore.

Greatly relieved that I hadn’t caused the problem, I headed to the kitchen to make coffee. I never found the gallon of emergency water that I thought I kept under the sink. I learned that two cups of ice cubes melted for three minutes in the microwave equals 1¼ cups of water.

As I handed Husband a steaming cup of black coffee, I asked, “Is this a leak you can fix?”

He answered with a question – one that told me he knew what I was really thinking. “What time is your company coming?” I hated the mess and knew the leak had to be fixed, but my real concern was that we ladies had to have water to wash our hands and flush. I’ve learned that in situations like this that the best thing I can do is to be quiet and get out of the way.

When I returned from the gym after exercising and taking a shower, a crew from a cleaning service had finished the water vacuuming job and set up powerful fans to dry the carpet, and plumbers had repaired the shut-off valve. Once again, water flowed. I profusely thanked Husband – I’ve always appreciated that he’s a take-charge, fix-it guy. And I smugly, but silently, I congratulated myself for staying calm.

And then a few minutes before my company arrived the doorbell rang, and there stood a pest control man. He held a bug sprayer. By the time I told him about the water spraying from behind a commode and all the repair men who’d been in our house that morning and the two times that I’d accidentally flooded our house in the past year and that thirty ladies would be at my doorstep any minute, he practically ran to his truck.

Poor guy. I just couldn’t be calm and quiet one minute longer.

###

Filed under: Everyday Life, Flood | Tagged: company coming, flood, wet vacuum | 1 Comment »

Memory Games

Posted on February 5, 2014 by susanrray

“I wonder if that really works,” I said to Husband. We’d just watched a series of television commercials that interrupted one of our favorite programs, NCIS. Husband, seated across the room in his favorite recliner, looked at me. He turned his palms up, tilted his head, and squinted his eyes. I read his body language, “What?”

“That website. Lumoisity.com.” I said. Husband frowned. It was obvious that he didn’t know what I was talking about.

“Did you hear that commercial?” I didn’t wait for an answer. “Lumosity is online games to improve brain function and memory. I wonder if it would help me remember.”

Husband shook his head. “I don’t know.” He’d turned his attention back to NCIS. I picked up the pencil and paper that I keep next to my chair and wrote ‘Look up Lumosity.com’ and lay the note next to my computer.

Two days later as Husband and I travelled in his car, we listened to NPR on the radio. “The following program is sponsored by Lumosity.com,” the announcer said while we were stopped at a red light.

“Hmmm. Lumosity? Seems like we’ve heard before,” I said. “What was it? Do you remember?” Once again I read Husband’s body language. He slowly turned his head toward me, barely grinned, and raised his eyebrows. “You think it’s something I should remember?” I said.

He nodded. “You will.”

“Did I ask another silly question?” I said. He didn’t respond.

A few minutes later, I shouted. “Lumosity! Memory games on the computer. That’s it, isn’t it?” I laughed at myself, and Husband, true to his nature, was so kind that he didn’t tease me. “It’s a word we don’t hear often and it was a couple of days ago that we saw that commercial,” he said.

My forgetfulness was my sign that I should check out Lumosity. I registered for the free version using my email address as my user name and I chose my password. And for the next 20 minutes, I clicked bouncing colored balls on my computer screen. I completed numerical and geometric patterns. I identified objects from one picture to the next. I felt pretty good about my brain function. For three days, I played brain games and then over the weekend, I didn’t practice bouncing balls and patterns.

Monday morning, I opened Lumosity to log in. I typed my user name and password. And this message popped up: Invalid email address/password combination. I hate that message! Three times, I typed both my address and password, trying different passwords, and I got the same response. On the fourth try I read, ‘Would you like to reset your password?’ NO! I shut down my computer.

That afternoon my four-year-old Grand and I played a card game, Matching. We spread 24 cards face down on the table, and took turns turning over two cards at a time and hoped to match the pictures on the cards. I quickly matched the pairs of hippopotamuses and toucans. At the end of the game, we’d both made six matches.

Too bad about that online brain function game – whatever it’s called. Playing cards will keep my memory going just fine and I don’t need a user name or password. All my Grand required was a lap and hug.

###

Filed under: Everyday Life, Games, Memory | Tagged: computer game, forget, Memory game | Leave a comment »

« Previous Page — Next Page »

Susan Writes

Recent Posts

Archives

Categories

Meta