You know you're blind when...

You know you are blind when...

1.You have to take pictures of yourself trying glasses on to know what you look like in them...

2. You can't see the signs in the grocery store telling you what is in the aisle.

3. You can't read the concourse numbers in the airport until you've already walked the whole way to stand under the wrong one.

Well, they say my prescription is mild, I hate to think what really bad vision must feel like. I'll be glad to get my new glasses if for nothing else but to feel better driving.

I arrived safe in sound, praise God, to Md. The first flight was the tightest flight (read sardine cans came to mind)I've ever been on. I was glad my seatmate was a lady since we really were joined at the hip, and elbow, and leg. Thankfully, no seat belt extenders were needed (-: The good thing about a tiny, hot cramped first leg of the journey is it makes you feel like you are in first class when the second (albeit shorter) leg finds you in an aisle by yourself, in larger seats, in one that reclines (who knew the seat in front of the exit row doesn't recline) It was whohoo time for me.

I did note that the quality of light in the sky flying into the dusk, was gorgeous. Also the view flying into Reagan (on the left side of the plane) was spectacular. That said, the concourse I arrived on was so dingy, the parking lot so poorly lit and somewhat desolate, I can see why they have to bribe folk with cheaper flights than going to BWI.

Saw something new to me driving back with Son in Law Joe (he lets me drive, bless him) We came to an exit ramp, where about 10 feet AFTER the information would have been helpful , a sign said "alternate merge." I thought, what??? lets see, is that a merge for aging hippies? freethinkers? (yes ok it didn't say alternative" but it was still Greek to me, and again, way too late to be helpful) Joe said it's like the verse in Ephesians, each of us to consider the other better than ourselves, but in D.C I think it means, whoever is the most aggressive and willing to risk life and limb, goes first.

When I arrived, my dear daughter had made me some Chicken Korma on a lovely Sweet Brown rice. Joe poured me half a glass of Pilsner. (Tasted like the Busch beer of my youth) And I enjoyed a lovely hot shower and crisp fresh bed linens. Ahh, so nice.

I may have killed my fish today. I was taking him out of his glass abode, with my hand (I can't seem to get him in the net) and he squirmed out and fell to the counter. I struggled to pop him back into the bowl only to have his tale knock against the glass rim. My friend Erin who is fish sitting, has a 48 hour reprieve on "blame" if he dies. I hope he doesn't. We've grown rather attached. Of course I won't "blame" the dear girl, come what may.

Glenn told me his grand-daughter Emily, said to him, "You want to see my ballet?" And then after a short performance asked her Grampa "you want to lift me over your head and spin me in the air?"

OK, I've rambled enough...just entertaining myself in the quiet house while I wait for east coast time to sink in.

My own little "store"

I have been blue for a couple days. Yesterday I decided that the best thing to do in such a case was/is to put order to something. So with much handholding from my “Craigslist specialist” (Rebecca) I managed to take all the stuff I gathered up to get rid of, photograph said stuff and post in on Craigslist.

It took me an unbelievable 7 or so hours to photo, write up and post 18 things. Hopefully it won’t always take so long. So far I’ve managed to get bites on about 40 dollars worth of stuff. This reminds one why one ought not to BUY the stuff in the first place as it sells for way less than it “buys” for.
I kinda had fun trying to make my photo’s look like I live a decent enough life but whether that sells better than things thrown on top of a pilly blanket or not, I don’t know. We’ll see

Even though I’ve not sold much yet, I think I could get kinda addicted to doing this. I’m now looking at everything around here as fuel. I’ve long been an “ebayer” but have gotten fed up with their high fees.

Yes I know this is riveting blogging, but it’s new, isn’t that worth something (-:

On other notes…I’m praying swine flu just blows over but I also know it never does us any harm to consider our mortality or our eternal state.

I’m getting my first pair of “all the time” glasses, the kind you don’t take on and off, which enable you to see long distance and short. I hope to have them in hand and tried out for a couple weeks before departing for MD, Lord willing. I know some folk feel all sick and headachy and wooey with progressives.

Confession: I’m a bit worried about fitting in the seatbelt on the plane. It was really tight last time (I weigh the same, but it was SCARY tight, like oh no, what if I have to ask for a seatbelt extender?) I think my health has been so poor of late that I can almost say “who cares…so I ask for an extender”

Thankfully they can only charge you for a second seat if you can’t put the arms down and actually overflow into the seat next to you. I can’t believe I am confessing this fear on the web but truth be told, I just am amazed how age and infirmity takes away one’s vanity just a little bit. Yeah if I lost 10 lbs the seatbelt would be a breeze, but when you are so anemic you can barely move or stay awake the whole day, “dieting” and exercise are no. 2 on the list of priorities. Getting well is no 1 and that involves taking iron and vitamins and trying to get sunshine and fresh air and function enough to keep up my relationship with the hubby and our house. If I wore a pair of spanx (the modern version of your grandma's girdle or tights that are 5 sizes too small) I could surely have no issue with the seatbelt but who wants to be sausaged for 12 hours?

In answer to Christie’s questions, Nope, Noah’s now “ex” girlfriend (as best we can tell) never did get her whole phone no. down on paper. He’s moved on to Brianna who sends him a paper ever day that says “I love Noah.” That said at the last party he went to at school, two girls claimed him as their very own. (the former and the newer one)
Yup I’m still on Augustine A Betta fish. I’ll be sending it to my friend Erin’s house for 3 weeks to be fishsat. We shall see if he (or Erin for that matter) survives the experience.
Well that’s it for my mundane life. I need some decorating ideas so I might post a picture and ask for some in a not too distant future blog.

47, my year for madness.

Forty Seven is apparently the year I lose my mind as is evidenced by my buying myself Dolls for my Birthday and getting a Betta Fish. (It is also the year that I need to buy glasses to wear all the time, more on that later) The dolls are Blythe dolls, the one on the left is "Miss Sally Rice" the one on the right is Bronwyn Noelle, like me she needs glasses. The Betta fish, seen to the left of the silk plant) is named Augustine (of Hippo of course.) I decided in my lack of optimism about being able to keep a Betta alive (I prefer things that thrive on neglect) that I would name the fish alphabetically, thus sparing me of the inquiries as to how was it going with the fish. I.e, if I say my fish Calvin is doing well, you'll know he's no. 3 in the line of "failures" (short lived success's?) Glenn says we could name the next one Barabbas but I know that I would not want Barabbas to live. Perhaps Glenn was thinking that name would insure his longevity, but we cannot cheer for the wicked. My fish may not have souls but they'll be named as if they do (-:

On a side note of fishdom, I note that the local legislature has passed a bill allowing one to be fined 1,000 for animal neglect/abuse. I wonder if that includes fish and what that would look like? If my Betta gets too many pellets cause he is so happy when I give them to him, do I get fined for his obesity? If he gets a one way boat trip down the "porcelain river" will I be fined? (Do they do fish autopsy's to prove he died of natural causes?) If his bowl is colder than is recommended for Betta's will I be required to turn the heat up or place him for adoption? I certainly can't afford 1000 dollars...(and I'm all for laws against animal cruelty as long as they are actual cruelty not imagined PETA versions of cruelty) besides, 1000 dollars would get me from Augustine to Zachariah a few times.


Most of my friends already know I have done this and none have blocked me from their Facebook pages or email addy's yet. They are a committed bunch.


I know I've pretty much let blogging go, though not consciously. Other technology has forced it to the background and for the most part I say good riddance. I still enjoy the blogs of others, but am at a time of life when I don't feel I have much I want to say. Perhaps I am tired, or experience has finally convinced me of that proverb about fools with shut mouths seeming wise.


By way of mundane and "safe" blogging (i.e the kind that won't garner much by way of criticism), nothing is much different here at the Ferrell house, Glenn still works, I still do whatever it is I do, and Noah still goes to school. I will say that Noah has seemed to have "gone through" three different girlfriends at least since he's been in his "LIFE" program. This most recent one is Brianna. The last one got as far as sending her phone numbers home with him on scraps of paper, but given her disability, she only managed to get 2/3 of the numbers written down, not enough to make a proper phone number. I wonder if the reason they are "no more" is that she was mad he never called. (-: No worry, given Noah's lack of verbosity, a phone call from the dear fellow might have ended the relationship anyway, unless she could carry her end and his. Each of these gals has either sent home a picture or he's found a way to wrangle one from them. This never ceases to amaze me, given the trouble non-developmentally delayed fellows report in the whole world of getting a girls number, much less her photo. Noah must be the heartbreaker of his group.

He went to a Valentine's day Dance wearing a bow tie I found him at the Goodwill charity shop (brand new) and a Suit jacket Shelley and I bought him at the same, and a shirt I bought his dad that was too small for the former. The suit doesn't fit him correctly but we've not gotten it tailored yet, he liked it just fine however and was the most dapper dresser there according to Glenn who took him.
After watching John Wayne movies, Noah's favorite thing in life is to dance.




















Random other news...we have enjoyed some company in the New Year, or friend Andrew from the UK and the Conleys, a young ministry couple who are moving back east. Both were enjoyable fellowship.

I had the best split pea soup I have ever had in my life at Rembrandts a couple weeks ago. I hope they make it again. It is so good I think I'd pay big money for the recipe if I had the chance.

I am now the proud owner of a Kindle 2, whatever that means. (it's an e-text reader of sorts, sold via Amazon) Now if I could just have the rest of the books in my house shrink and insert themselves in there I'd have a whole lot more room.

I don't observe Lent but I am using the notion of 40 days, to try and reach the goal of getting rid of a bag of unused stuff, being it junk or clutter, every day. I got this off my friend Sally years ago.

Glenn and I have been sick 3 times this winter, twice with a stomach thing and once with a more flu like thing. Spring might be very welcome when it comes. As always we are missing our grandbabies and children.

That's all for now...

End of summer ponderings...

Ah the joys of summer! Now just a memory as the cool nights slip in and the air has a crisp feel and sound to it. Ok, the air probably doesn't make a sound itself, but there is some sound that says "fall" to me. I am guessing the leaves and crunchy yard bits create it.


What used to provide a feel of "summerness" to me is no longer part of my life, that being the pool, the lake, the ocean, gardening, suppers on the screened back porch of my wee 30's house. Trips to Rehoboth beach, possibly New Hampshire.


Now summer is that season when the house is colder inside than outside cause we can't seem to get the A.C just right. I'm learning that it takes time in a place to create a new image of what each season means in that place. Summer here in Boise is much nicer weather than back east but what makes it special is visitors, whose presence drags me out into the heat to do the "tourist" bits.I loved going to the water playground with Sam and Becca as well, that felt like summer.


Summer was the strangest in Glasgow, mainly because it was hard to tell one was in it, except the rain was a bit more welcome and when the sun would peek out for a moment between the clouds, it made me stand in place and turn my face up and say, ahh! Here, the baking oven feels if one stands still for even a minute outdoors, says SUMMER!!!

I had wonderful times this year enjoying guests from back east, Sally, Becca and Sam, and Leia. Now it's time to stop slacking and get the house looking like someone actually lives here rather than "vacations" here, before the fall/winter guests start arriving.

It hit me with a twinge of sadness a week ago that I no longer need to pay attention to "back to school" time because Noah is no longer in the 18-21 program which required us to buy fresh pens and school boxes and such. Now his program is the same year round with the exception of various seasonal school outings etc. My local bff has her kids going off to school en mass for the first time and I am enjoying the overflow of "back to school" feelings as she goes through all that.

Lately I'm more aware that time is passing and I'm not getting any younger. I don't know if this is a good thing or not, depends on what I do with it I suppose.

I'll try to blog a bit more faithfully in the coming months. I've still got the occasional thought in my mind but as I age I have less bee's in my bonnet and don't feel the same need to communicate as I used to. I'm a lot happier sitting quietly with my knitting and a great cup of java.

This Friday we're having a local pastor and his wife over, the wife I've never met but I hear tell she's a Maryland native like me. That should be interesting. I get occasionally misty when I hear a hometown accent (-: How odd considering where I come from where the accent is definitive if not desirable! Could be worse.