A few weeks ago I was working in my yard
in the late afternoon when my neighbor Darcy
walked by with baby Alex.
I motioned to her to come down my sidewalk
to see my latest project.
She looked up at my dozen new birdhouses
and feeders with surprise and said,
"Um, Gretchen, you better slow down with this
or they'll be calling you
The Crazy Bird Lady."
I just laughed and the faces of several people I
knew that might be considered the
Crazy Cat Ladies popped into my brain.
Yes, my new hobby could easily give me
the designation of
The Crazy Bird Lady.
I don't care.
Every morning that I don't have a job,
I slip out of my slippers and into my clogs
and merrily fill a milk jug with warm water and
trot down the sidewalk in my penguin pajamas
to hang it to drip over my birdbath.
Then I get a scoop of sunflower seeds from
the big bin on my front porch and sprinkle
them under our giant cedar tree for
the squirrels and towhees.
I love all my little chickadees and nuthatches
and juncos and I like my fat little squirrels.
I don't care if Brenda hates them
and calls them designer rats.
I do get sick of them stealing the feeder seeds.
Last week I coated the feeder with Crisco
and when I got home from work I could see where some
of my furry friends had slid down the tube feeder
and taken a nice drop.
It's all soft dirt underneath but I wish I
could have been home to see that!
Funny how when you are unemployed
and have too much time on your hands
how much of that time you'll invest on a hobby.
My little bird sanctuary has been very therapeutic.
I read bird books and listen to bird calls on the
Cornell University website and read all their tips.
Right when I had my 1980 fake smoked-glass Tupperware
chip tray in my latest St.Vinny's box on the porch,
I read the birds preferred a shallow in-ground
bath with a dripper overhead.
I see the juncos splashing around in the afternoons
but no one seems to appreciate the warm steaming
water I put out every morning except me.
Since I always have cold hands and feet,
I expect the birds to also.
I've been called a lot of things over my lifetime,
some good, some bad:
Gretchen, Gretch, Greta, G,
Lollipop, Ginger Snap.
The Crazy Bird Lady
is fine with me!
Monday, May 7, 2012
Friday, May 4, 2012
5/4/2012 Teddy's Driving Lessons
I owe my ability to give Teddy driving lessons
to my hairdresser, Janet Ferris.
There is no way I could cope with that
amount of white hair from fright
on my own and I wouldn't try.
How a kid gets to fifteen so fast is beyond me.
I must have blacked out all of Troy's
driving lessons three years ago
because I don't remember a thing
except for feeling like a bobblehead doll
and at the stop sign at the end of our road.
So, six weeks ago, I took Teddy to get
his permit. Of course neither of us had read
the small print that we needed his
original birth certificate!
We got the permit without it but no
photograph but that was okay.
He is bald as a billiard ball
since he ended up with a "hot chick"
hair cutter at Kenmore Great Clips
and must have wanted to prolong the experience.
So, we got the permit and I drove him
in my green minivan to the Park and Ride
lot behind St. Vinny's in
downtown Kookmore.
I hadn't seen him look that nervous
since his 7th grade choir concert at KJH
when he looked like he was going to
be sick the entire show.
He got out of the van and did a safety check.
Then he got inside and did all the pre-drive checks.
He started the engine and slowly crept down the
slope and to the stop sign.
That was when I noticed I had stopped breathing
and I gave a a big whoosh as I started again.
He circled around and up the slope and shut
down the van to begin again.
Again, and again and again.
On his third start up,
Kenmore sheriff chief Sether pulled up
on the side of the lot and was having lunch.
Beads of sweat popped out on Theodore's
forehead as he slowly drove down the slope past the chief.
I smiled and waved and he hunkered down for
some lunchtime entertainment.
He had a big smile and I imagined he
had given his kids driving lessons.
Poor Teddy. He did not expect an audience,
but he bravely made loop after loop,
practicing his steering and parking skills.
Over the last six weeks,
we have been on roads and the highway a few times.
I love the gap between when they get their permit
and license and I get to be chauffeured around town.
Of course I trained him early on how to drive
to the most important destination.
The McDonald's drive-thru so I can get
a cup of really good coffee.
to my hairdresser, Janet Ferris.
There is no way I could cope with that
amount of white hair from fright
on my own and I wouldn't try.
How a kid gets to fifteen so fast is beyond me.
I must have blacked out all of Troy's
driving lessons three years ago
because I don't remember a thing
except for feeling like a bobblehead doll
and at the stop sign at the end of our road.
So, six weeks ago, I took Teddy to get
his permit. Of course neither of us had read
the small print that we needed his
original birth certificate!
We got the permit without it but no
photograph but that was okay.
He is bald as a billiard ball
since he ended up with a "hot chick"
hair cutter at Kenmore Great Clips
and must have wanted to prolong the experience.
So, we got the permit and I drove him
in my green minivan to the Park and Ride
lot behind St. Vinny's in
downtown Kookmore.
I hadn't seen him look that nervous
since his 7th grade choir concert at KJH
when he looked like he was going to
be sick the entire show.
He got out of the van and did a safety check.
Then he got inside and did all the pre-drive checks.
He started the engine and slowly crept down the
slope and to the stop sign.
That was when I noticed I had stopped breathing
and I gave a a big whoosh as I started again.
He circled around and up the slope and shut
down the van to begin again.
Again, and again and again.
On his third start up,
Kenmore sheriff chief Sether pulled up
on the side of the lot and was having lunch.
Beads of sweat popped out on Theodore's
forehead as he slowly drove down the slope past the chief.
I smiled and waved and he hunkered down for
some lunchtime entertainment.
He had a big smile and I imagined he
had given his kids driving lessons.
Poor Teddy. He did not expect an audience,
but he bravely made loop after loop,
practicing his steering and parking skills.
Over the last six weeks,
we have been on roads and the highway a few times.
I love the gap between when they get their permit
and license and I get to be chauffeured around town.
Of course I trained him early on how to drive
to the most important destination.
The McDonald's drive-thru so I can get
a cup of really good coffee.
Tuesday, May 1, 2012
5/1/2012 R&R Doughnuts
It had been a rough flight from New York to Fort Lauderdale
the night before.
Lots of turbulence
and a lot of that weird dropping feeling on the plane
like when an elevator drops fast.
In between services I was on the back jumpseat
with my head hung over my barfbag,
just trying to survive.
Once at the hotel
I climbed in bed and curled up in a little ball waiting for
the room to stop spinning.
Yes, I did get airsick a lot as a flight attendant.
I just didn't care.
I wanted to see the world.
The next morning, we were in the lobby at O'Dark hundred
in Fort Lauderdale and I had only slept a few hours.
I felt like crap.
On our way to the airport
our first flight attendant, Christy, who was in charge,
asked the van driver to stop at R & R Doughnuts.
He pulled over and she turned to me and said,
"Gretchen, it's your turn to help
me carry the doughnuts."
I was so sick and tired I could barely move,
but I hauled my sorry self from the van and
limped listlessly after her.
I'm a team player unless dead.
As I followed her through the door
it seemed odd to me that it was nearly dark inside.
I noticed the cigarette machine
and choked on the smokey air.
There were five young men sitting at the counter
and the doughnut server had his back to us.
Seemed odd he wasn't wearing a shirt.
Christy shouted out, "We need the usual!"
Well,
it wasn't a man.
It was a VERY topless young woman
with huge bazookas holding a tray of doughnuts.
I looked down at the floor and studied the
peeling linoleum and sheepishly took a box of doughnuts
and tried to smile at her face without noticing
her lack of uniform beyond a tiny G-string.
I don't think she got the memo
that modesty is a virtue.
We got to the van and my face was very red.
Christy couldn't stop laughing
and the pilots joined in.
My pal and buddy-bidder Theresa looked at me and said,
"Um Gretch, you don't look so good."
I probably didn't but at least I had clothes on!
the night before.
Lots of turbulence
and a lot of that weird dropping feeling on the plane
like when an elevator drops fast.
In between services I was on the back jumpseat
with my head hung over my barfbag,
just trying to survive.
Once at the hotel
I climbed in bed and curled up in a little ball waiting for
the room to stop spinning.
Yes, I did get airsick a lot as a flight attendant.
I just didn't care.
I wanted to see the world.
The next morning, we were in the lobby at O'Dark hundred
in Fort Lauderdale and I had only slept a few hours.
I felt like crap.
On our way to the airport
our first flight attendant, Christy, who was in charge,
asked the van driver to stop at R & R Doughnuts.
He pulled over and she turned to me and said,
"Gretchen, it's your turn to help
me carry the doughnuts."
I was so sick and tired I could barely move,
but I hauled my sorry self from the van and
limped listlessly after her.
I'm a team player unless dead.
As I followed her through the door
it seemed odd to me that it was nearly dark inside.
I noticed the cigarette machine
and choked on the smokey air.
There were five young men sitting at the counter
and the doughnut server had his back to us.
Seemed odd he wasn't wearing a shirt.
Christy shouted out, "We need the usual!"
Well,
it wasn't a man.
It was a VERY topless young woman
with huge bazookas holding a tray of doughnuts.
I looked down at the floor and studied the
peeling linoleum and sheepishly took a box of doughnuts
and tried to smile at her face without noticing
her lack of uniform beyond a tiny G-string.
I don't think she got the memo
that modesty is a virtue.
We got to the van and my face was very red.
Christy couldn't stop laughing
and the pilots joined in.
My pal and buddy-bidder Theresa looked at me and said,
"Um Gretch, you don't look so good."
I probably didn't but at least I had clothes on!
5/1/2012 First Grade How-To Manuals
A few weeks ago during a first grade writing unit,
the lesson was on how to write a How-To manual.
Here is what one little sweetie wrote:
How-To Go To School
1 First, you put on your clows
2 Then you go down seris
3 Next, you eat brekfist
4 Then, you go put on your backpack
5 Finally, your dad will drive you to the bus
the lesson was on how to write a How-To manual.
Here is what one little sweetie wrote:
How-To Go To School
1 First, you put on your clows
2 Then you go down seris
3 Next, you eat brekfist
4 Then, you go put on your backpack
5 Finally, your dad will drive you to the bus
Monday, April 30, 2012
4/30/2012 Getting Lost With Ruthie
For Pete's sake!
I knew I was on the road to Camp Brinkley!
I had only NOT found it when I needed to
a half dozen times
when I had a van full of yelling, poking cub scouts.
So, of course, I went right to it when lost
trying to find Denise's house.
I took my friend Ruthie,
who is the former owner of my ex-dog Susie,
that I met through my former co-worker Vera,
at my ex-job at Bothell Post office
who was Ruthie's former neighbor,
to see her former neighbor Sheila's new house.
She is the mom of Troy's future college classmate Dallas
and Teddy's current football team mate Dom.
She lives near Camp Brinkley in podunk North Monroe.
My scouts loved running up to cubmaster Joe
every year at camp and shouting,
"We're late because Mrs. Nixon got lost! Again!"
(In front of 500 men and boys)
So, I guess it was natural to find the camp
but not Sheila's, despite her directions
and mapquest maps.
Whoever plotted the roads of North Monroe
and Snohomish musta gone to the Ed Roning
school of road sign placement.
Ed was my trainer at the City of Seattle Engineering
department in 1977 who taught me how to drive
the salt and sanding dump truck with
the priority instruction,
"ALWAYS start at the Lockspot tavern
to pick up your six pack of beer."
After asking a kid where we were
(beyond lost in a forest)
I found out we were exactly ten miles East
of where we were supposed to be.
Ruthie just laughed and laughed.
At ninety-two years old she entertained me
during our back-tracking with stories of
early Ballard and Golden Gardens.
She is swell.
We admired all the cows and horses and sheep
on the beautiful sunny day and our route
was covered with yellow dandelions,
meandering along creeks and ponds and fields of rural beauty.
I knew I was getting really warm when
I saw the cows that looked familiar.
I turned up a long gravel driveway
and our jaws dropped open at the palatial haceinda
with swimming pool overlooking the valley.
I circled the driveway and admired the half dozen
antique cars being washed and polished in front
of a garage big enough to house Kenmore.
Of course it wasn't Denise's house,
and if I was alone I would have shouted down the owner
to hear the stories of the cars.
I LOVE old cars and can't wait to visit
the biggest car museum in the world in Dubai.
So, we looped down and around to the NEXT gravel
road and I could tell we were getting hotter.
Finally! We came over the ridge
and saw the house, perched on a hill.
Sheila came out to greet us
and I can't repeat exactly what she said
due to our late arrival,
in a G rated story.
She took us on the grand tour of
dream home and basically Ruthie and I
followed her with our jaws dropped open (again)
at the beauty of her home and the majesty
of her birds-eye view of Mount Pilchuck.
We scratched our heads simultaneously
at the height of her bed.
Seemed like you'd have give a running start
and jump likw Nadia Comenichi to mount that puppy.
Ruthie and I were in full awe until a
terrarium came into view and I walked over
expecting some harmless hamster to look
at me, only to be face level with an
enormous white and yellow snake with a
head the size of a football! Ugh.
Nothing like a shot of adrenaline to build up an appetite!
We a nice lunch in her Rachel Ray-style kitchen
with her horse shoer, Glenn and then
we went down to the pasture and visited with her horse.
We took a stroll in her forest to see her skunk cabbage patch.
It was dark and spooky and Ruthie and I kept our eyes
peeled after Sheila told her about the bears and bobcats
she had seen around there.
It was just about the most exciting visit
I'd ever been on
and almost a let-down not getting lost
on the way home.
I knew I was on the road to Camp Brinkley!
I had only NOT found it when I needed to
a half dozen times
when I had a van full of yelling, poking cub scouts.
So, of course, I went right to it when lost
trying to find Denise's house.
I took my friend Ruthie,
who is the former owner of my ex-dog Susie,
that I met through my former co-worker Vera,
at my ex-job at Bothell Post office
who was Ruthie's former neighbor,
to see her former neighbor Sheila's new house.
She is the mom of Troy's future college classmate Dallas
and Teddy's current football team mate Dom.
She lives near Camp Brinkley in podunk North Monroe.
My scouts loved running up to cubmaster Joe
every year at camp and shouting,
"We're late because Mrs. Nixon got lost! Again!"
(In front of 500 men and boys)
So, I guess it was natural to find the camp
but not Sheila's, despite her directions
and mapquest maps.
Whoever plotted the roads of North Monroe
and Snohomish musta gone to the Ed Roning
school of road sign placement.
Ed was my trainer at the City of Seattle Engineering
department in 1977 who taught me how to drive
the salt and sanding dump truck with
the priority instruction,
"ALWAYS start at the Lockspot tavern
to pick up your six pack of beer."
After asking a kid where we were
(beyond lost in a forest)
I found out we were exactly ten miles East
of where we were supposed to be.
Ruthie just laughed and laughed.
At ninety-two years old she entertained me
during our back-tracking with stories of
early Ballard and Golden Gardens.
She is swell.
We admired all the cows and horses and sheep
on the beautiful sunny day and our route
was covered with yellow dandelions,
meandering along creeks and ponds and fields of rural beauty.
I knew I was getting really warm when
I saw the cows that looked familiar.
I turned up a long gravel driveway
and our jaws dropped open at the palatial haceinda
with swimming pool overlooking the valley.
I circled the driveway and admired the half dozen
antique cars being washed and polished in front
of a garage big enough to house Kenmore.
Of course it wasn't Denise's house,
and if I was alone I would have shouted down the owner
to hear the stories of the cars.
I LOVE old cars and can't wait to visit
the biggest car museum in the world in Dubai.
So, we looped down and around to the NEXT gravel
road and I could tell we were getting hotter.
Finally! We came over the ridge
and saw the house, perched on a hill.
Sheila came out to greet us
and I can't repeat exactly what she said
due to our late arrival,
in a G rated story.
She took us on the grand tour of
dream home and basically Ruthie and I
followed her with our jaws dropped open (again)
at the beauty of her home and the majesty
of her birds-eye view of Mount Pilchuck.
We scratched our heads simultaneously
at the height of her bed.
Seemed like you'd have give a running start
and jump likw Nadia Comenichi to mount that puppy.
Ruthie and I were in full awe until a
terrarium came into view and I walked over
expecting some harmless hamster to look
at me, only to be face level with an
enormous white and yellow snake with a
head the size of a football! Ugh.
Nothing like a shot of adrenaline to build up an appetite!
We a nice lunch in her Rachel Ray-style kitchen
with her horse shoer, Glenn and then
we went down to the pasture and visited with her horse.
We took a stroll in her forest to see her skunk cabbage patch.
It was dark and spooky and Ruthie and I kept our eyes
peeled after Sheila told her about the bears and bobcats
she had seen around there.
It was just about the most exciting visit
I'd ever been on
and almost a let-down not getting lost
on the way home.
Wednesday, March 7, 2012
3/7/2012 First Grade Anatomy Essays
I go all over the place as a sub
and in my travels I see some very cute essays:
The Body (First Grade Author Unknown)
My brain helps me thac
and helps me moov my bode.
My hearth is purfakt.
It is the most impartit orange
and it pumps bluod.
Your lungs are inportint
abd if you sotp brething you can diy.
All peloews eyes are
difenit coloes.
and in my travels I see some very cute essays:
The Body (First Grade Author Unknown)
My brain helps me thac
and helps me moov my bode.
My hearth is purfakt.
It is the most impartit orange
and it pumps bluod.
Your lungs are inportint
abd if you sotp brething you can diy.
All peloews eyes are
difenit coloes.
Tuesday, March 6, 2012
3/6/2012 I Was a Stupid Clown
The little freckle-faced girl looked up at me
with a serious face.
"What do you do?" She asked.
I smiled down at her and said,
"What do you mean what do I do?"
She looked at me with concern and said,
"You know, tricks and stuff."
It dawned on me right then and there
that a clown suit does not a clown make.
I was a stupid clown.
I had no tricks or talents,
just a nice old, faded orange and yellow clown suit.
Since I had worked on making new games for the 2000
Kenmore Elementary carnival,
my name had been passed on to the Bothell fire department
to provide carnival games for the
Northshore Cities League Safety Carnival.
I roamed around smiling in my clown suit with my bright yellow
wig tucked around my old City of Seattle engineering department hard hat,
and made sure the kids were having fun at the games.
The fire and sheriff departments from
Bothell, Kenmore and Woodinville had brought
all kinds of interesting home safety displays
and when Terry showed up with Troy and Teddy,
they ran to the smoke sheet set up
to teach them how to crawl under smoke.
So, looking down at the little girl
and not having any clown skills
made me feel really stupid.
I frantically dug into the deep pockets of my clown suit
and found a tiny rubber hand from a prize bin and she smiled.
The next day I found a friend to teach me how to make balloon animals
and I embarked on a five year career as Lulu the Clown.
I made balloon animals at all the local school
carnivals in exchange for free tickets for
Teddy and Troy for all the carnival games.
I'd send them off to find their favorite games
and report back to me so I could replicate them
for my Kenmore Elementary carnival.
My favorite were the little cars from
All Star Fun rentals. I saw them at the Arrowhead carnival
and knew I had to have them!
For the next ten years, when the cars showed up
at Kenmore elementary for the carnival,
I liked to take them for a loop around the parking lot
before taking them to their designated spot.
I'm such a liar!
My real favorite activity was the speed pitch radar.
Not the activity as much as borrowing the sheriff's car
and driving that around town.
Chief Sether showed me how to attach the radar gun
to the battery in the trunk and set up the display box
and I had to sign a bunch of forms stating that I wouldn't
give any of my neighbors speeding tickets on my way to the school carnival.
Yes, I was a stupid clown at first.
But I did get to drive the sheriff's car
and yes, I did want to write tickets,
but I restrained myself.
with a serious face.
"What do you do?" She asked.
I smiled down at her and said,
"What do you mean what do I do?"
She looked at me with concern and said,
"You know, tricks and stuff."
It dawned on me right then and there
that a clown suit does not a clown make.
I was a stupid clown.
I had no tricks or talents,
just a nice old, faded orange and yellow clown suit.
Since I had worked on making new games for the 2000
Kenmore Elementary carnival,
my name had been passed on to the Bothell fire department
to provide carnival games for the
Northshore Cities League Safety Carnival.
I roamed around smiling in my clown suit with my bright yellow
wig tucked around my old City of Seattle engineering department hard hat,
and made sure the kids were having fun at the games.
The fire and sheriff departments from
Bothell, Kenmore and Woodinville had brought
all kinds of interesting home safety displays
and when Terry showed up with Troy and Teddy,
they ran to the smoke sheet set up
to teach them how to crawl under smoke.
So, looking down at the little girl
and not having any clown skills
made me feel really stupid.
I frantically dug into the deep pockets of my clown suit
and found a tiny rubber hand from a prize bin and she smiled.
The next day I found a friend to teach me how to make balloon animals
and I embarked on a five year career as Lulu the Clown.
I made balloon animals at all the local school
carnivals in exchange for free tickets for
Teddy and Troy for all the carnival games.
I'd send them off to find their favorite games
and report back to me so I could replicate them
for my Kenmore Elementary carnival.
My favorite were the little cars from
All Star Fun rentals. I saw them at the Arrowhead carnival
and knew I had to have them!
For the next ten years, when the cars showed up
at Kenmore elementary for the carnival,
I liked to take them for a loop around the parking lot
before taking them to their designated spot.
I'm such a liar!
My real favorite activity was the speed pitch radar.
Not the activity as much as borrowing the sheriff's car
and driving that around town.
Chief Sether showed me how to attach the radar gun
to the battery in the trunk and set up the display box
and I had to sign a bunch of forms stating that I wouldn't
give any of my neighbors speeding tickets on my way to the school carnival.
Yes, I was a stupid clown at first.
But I did get to drive the sheriff's car
and yes, I did want to write tickets,
but I restrained myself.
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