Repeat Offender

I knew it was just a matter of time before I rejoined the ranks of Weight Watchers. Twenty-two pounds over my goal and I am back paying to lose. I joined in June of '06 after my doctor told me to either lose some weight and drop your cholesterol or go on medication. Being a wild child of the late 60's and 70's you would have thought I'd have opted for the drug regime. Bonk, wrong answer.

In November of '06 I lost 29 pounds and became a lifetime member. I did well, even through the months of rich steaming Tom & Jerry's. T&J's are my winter favorite with dark rum instead of brandy, oh my that is another story in itself. Anyway, I kept it off for the most part, with a few pounds creeping on here and there. I was even exercising - the ultimate secret to any weigh loss plan.


But in July of '07 my Dad had an aortic aneurysm repaired. The surgery was successful, it was the recovery that wasn't. Aspiration pneumonia set in and it wore him down enough to die on September 14th. It was during those struggles I too gave up the careful strategies Weight Watchers had taught me.

During the 7 weeks of Dad's downward spiralling my brother and I spent some wonderful time together. We ate and drank in many a Fargo establishment, almost daily, and then some. We dined at "Mexican Village", which Tom said is the best Norwegian Mexican a guy could ever want; the "HoDo", which was the Hotel Donaldson when we were young - a veritable fleabag affair, now it is up upscale.

And then there was this great Italian Restaurant (more upscale) in downtown Fargo, Tosca's or something like that. We arrived about 7:45, hardly an odd dining time, only to be turned away because they stopped serving by 8:00 p.m. Next door the VFW (to old Fargoans - The Black Angus) had some battle of the bands on Tues, Wed, and Thursday nights making fine dining near impossible. If they all had that service plan when we arrived I may not be back at Weight Watchers.

I have this theory, unproven - as most all of mine are, once you get back into the swing of fabulous and reckless dining things just go to hell, really fast. I have the over fifty metabolism which is as speedy as cold Karo Syrup, and the uncanny ability to have about 40 reason why not to exercise, road work as my brother calls it. So you see it really isn't hard to understand why I am back counting points, panting on the treadmill and digging out the old sizes as I plan to work my way down to a size 8 again. Tip: don't throw out the old sizes with that funny notion you'll not need these anymore. A few Rubbermaid containers and you will always have slacks that fit!

Determination isn't my long suit but I sure hope I can dissolve some fatty deposits before too long. Swimsuit season is just around the corner, and I don't want to be one of those bulky girls who everyone wishes would cover up or just go home. I also hope that by making a bold blog statement I won't fall off the wagon assuming no one will know of my latest attempt at weight loss. Heaven forbid should I become a multiple repeat offender with little to no rehab potential, a.k.a.blissfully fat!

A Little Dab Won't Do

We did get some moisture, but hardly enough. We received about one fourth of one inch of wet snow on the 24th. But no real record breaker, as in '84. Ron and I had lunch at the golf course today and this was out the west window. It is too small to see but there is a sprinkler going on the 6th hole. FORE!

Geek ER

In the past three days I have been digging into the innards of my computer until I thought I was going to have some sort of breakdown. I have them often and know the early signs.

It began when I made an attempt at hooking up a printer to the laptop. All our printers, we have three, not because we are upper crust, but - the laser is about 10 years old and refuses to die, the HP photo is one we bought a few years back, and then there is the Epson, one of my Dad's cast offs. They are all configured with Windows XP or below. None of the printer software will load onto a Vista OS.

After getting some sonly advise from Tad, who was on a tractor planting 20,000 onions, he told me I needed to download a patch from Epson. Easy enough for most, but remember I am prone to meltdowns and only dabble in directions. I couldn't do it because I kept attempting at 64 bit when I should have clicked on 32 bit. Mind you, I clicked on 64, as an uneducated guess: I have Vista Home Premium, and thought 64 must be better, because there is a Vista Home, they must be 32 bit. When I was little I remember my mother saying, "Well, it only cost 2 bits." It was at that early age I learned that a quarter was two bits. Now in the 21st century it has a new connotation. So using my childlike 1960 logic, wouldn't you think 64 is better than 32?

This printing nightmare started on Sunday. On Monday we had no school, (yipee!) and I needed take the dog in for his beauty parlor treatment - a buzz and a bath. I thought I am going to take this laptop into Best Buy for some work as it wouldn't take updates, and get some 64/32 bit advise. We loaded the van: Lacy, her friend Harley, Buddy the dog, who smelled, Carsten at the wheel, and of course me, the part time driving instructor. We struck out for Minot.

This is where the Geek squad comes in. She, not the two in the photo, but a skinny thing with maroon and yellow hair, began to work on it for the update problem. One month old and no updates are coming in. Of course, you are suppose to decipher any problems within two weeks if you have any hopes of free fix-its. "Then we can replace your (new and out of the box) unit with a new one." Ya, right, if you don't do anything else for two weeks, but mess around on your new computer (with the new Operating System)you might know if something is wrong.

While she works on the computer I am wandering around Best Buy, ignoring the three add-ons that came through the door with me, especially when they would come up and say, "We should get one of these," all the while hoping the maroon and yellow haired girl is going to fix my new favorite techie device . Soon, I stumbled into the camera department. I have been toying with getting a little purse size unit so I can capture the times of my life. We already have three cameras, but none are credit card size. Before long I had a nice little red Nikon in my clutches, ready for purchase. Nikon has a S210 now, so I bought the S200 at close out prices. Regularly $179.00, clearanced for $79.00. SOLD, to the lady with the three add-ons who want her to buy everything but the camera.

The Maroon and yellow girl had now announced she couldn't fix it. I can either work with Mircosoft Tech support or pay $129.00 and they will reinstall the OS. We paid $129.00 after we bought it to make it ready for home use and to get the recovery discs. She wants me to shell out again? I am able to do a recovery as I have had to do it twice to our desktop - kid related issues. So home I go, with a new camera, the add-ons, a clean, shaved dog and my nonupdateable computer. Only to have a new problem.

I could not get on the Internet, which worked fine prior to the Minot trip, a few hours before. I dialed up maroon and yellow and she tells me she didn't do anything that involved Wi-fi stuff. I would need to bring it back in, to have them look at it. We are now up to $3.49 a gallon and I need to return to Minot? Figuring in time and my available time, I returned. I wanted at least to be able to get on the Internet, how could I solve the Microsoft problem without Internet? I did call our wireless server and he had me hook up with cable, so indeed the computer did accept Internet.

I poured myself a glass of Merlot before I left, sat down and regrouped. The wine was to settle the need to throttle maroon and yellow should she still be on duty. Back I went, minus the add-ons and dog. I did take my new camera, at this point, the only cheery thing in my life.

It was there I met the two in the photo. They were so enjoyable and chatty. But best of all, they fixed, quite easily I might add, you know who's error. I couldn't resist taking out my new camera and taking their picture. The Geek ER Docs.

1984, Not by George Orwell

Spring is taking its sweet time in arriving on the great plains. So is rain. The countryside is terribly parched and we look both skyward and tv-ward in hopes of something wet. Some are skeptical about the two extra days off the kids will have this weekend (Friday and Monday) for unused storm days. More than once I have heard, "We could still have a heck of a snow storm."

And oh yes, once upon a time we did! In 1984 we had 24 inches on the 24th of April. Those were my little words of rote to remember the storm data. In actuality, the storm started on the 24th and ended about 3 days later, back when this part of western North Dakota could still kick up a three day storm.

It started as rain, then slush and by nightfall it was snow. It was my second worst snowstorm as a farmer's wife. The first, being the infamous '75 snirt storm, which by the way was my first blizzard on the farm. We played Monopoly for three days; I must have been struck by love as I should have been packing! There were many many storms between '75 and '84, but those two captured 1st and 2nd place. Third - was another doozy in early April of '97. By the numbers, we are due for some type of decade event.

Anyway, returning to April of '84, we were smack dab in the middle of calving, as were all our neighbors, back when the countryside had neighbors. Each spring we moved the cows to our side of the river, up on the flats. They wintered on the river at the Espeseth home place. Moving the herd usually took place shortly before the first of the calves were due. Our side was sandy, sunny and dry, most of the time. Even if it did get ugly, the cows and calves weren't knee deep in muck as the river bottom could be in spring time.

So this fateful spring storm built up its furry and dumped on us with no mercy in site. Early in the storm the cows stayed up on the prairie, with hay and straw. Soon Myles fed them over the ridge down by the river, as it offered more protection. Before long a few calves were hauled up into the house as there was no real place to get them warmed. One was in the basement, getting lots of furious rubbing, and one was in the bathtub. He or she, I don't remember what, was almost iced and needed immediate treatment. Warm water was the only option left.

Before long the ridge along the river had drifts too high and too deep to get down there with the tractor, so all that was left was to wait it out, in hopes the calves that were ready to be born would wait as long as possible to "hit the ground."

Now comes the frustrating half of the story: I must have spent too much brain power remembering the 24 in 84 on the 24th, because I don't recall the outcome. I vaguely think one of the house calves died. But after that I just plain don't remember. Often I think "no news is good news," so possibly we didn't have a crisis with calves or cows. Spring blizzards may have their ferociousness, but one thing they haven't mastered is staying around for long. Soon the prairies were with bare ground and the crocuses were springing up in the pastures.

Whether we get a spring blizzard, thunderstorms, even spit showers would be welcome, let the heavens open up, please! We have burning bans, with the latest - only gas grills permitted for barbequeing. So each day we wait, and then wait some more. Maybe the early assumption of casting off unused storm days will be like washing your car or windows, only to have it rain! That would be nice.

Spoons

When I saw this recent photo of Lainey, I had to go digging for Collin's (who is now 3 1/2) similar picture. By the way, I am now using a flash drive for photo transport from one computer to the other. We've come a long way!

Lainey Grace 13 months

Collin Lee at about 18 months

Go Deep

I posted the prom before I finished the April 11th news. So scroll down to see what an active weekend we had.

The Couple

Pretty Woman

The Prom

The 2008 Velva High School Grand March is but a memory. Karlie is still out making her memories, and will be for a few more hours. I, on the other hand, will remember many other things of the first prom with a daughter. I've been down this road with the boys, but you haven't really done a prom until it is with a daughter. WOW!

It all began when she announced she was going to the Minot High Prom. I believe I got wordy: "Oh?" Before it was even an equation, with a guy we had never heard of, it was dust. She was going to the Velva Prom with an old boyfriend who already has a girlfriend but wasn't going. "Oh!"

Moving on to the main component, after securing a date, was the dress. Before we tread into this arena, let me remind you that today's teens are already a big line item in your budget. They have things we (boomers) didn't even dream of, let alone have. So Karlie and I struck out to three shops - bridal and prom only. I swooned when I thought of the wedding days down the road. "Please elope" could a possible future mantra. I don't really want to deny her all those memories of a wedding day, but heavens the commercial field has keyed into millions of lovebird suckers, just like the prom event, "There is money to be made in them there whooptee doos." And we're right there with our plastic.

Back to the dress. We had discussed of couple of scenarios, being kind to the bottom line. I said, "Well, try some on and see what size you wear,(ahh, that would be a 2!) see what you like." Interesting. Some barely had enough fabric from the waist up to make a sunbonnet for a dachshund. Others had bead work enough to tilt the car. Those looked like mermaid suits. Every color, style and yes, yardage. Those, of course, were up in the 26W's. Omar the tent maker is still alive and working.

At Mary Me she tried on a dress that became, the dress. It was stunning on her, she looked like Cinderella. Gold bead work (lightly done) and a chiffon skirt that plumed out from her little Scarlett O'Hara waist. It had the makings of a princess. Our princess.

Then came the price tag. It was time for more words, "Oh my." Next step, haul in Dad to win him over, much like the dress did for us. After all justifying that kind of money is a joint effort. Yes, he was won over and forked over. In addition, he bought her the $40.00 (with 20% off both dress and jewelry) necklace. You'll see it again at the wedding, and every other function of note.

Before this gala event took place there were many other items of cost before the total package came down the stairway. Tanning, toenails, fingernails, eyelashes, (they have come a long way since those ones we would buy at the Ben Franklin) garter, flowers, dinner at the most expensive restuarant in Minot. I was told this is the prom. I still wonder how the limo was overlooked. There was one in town, you hitched on with them for sixty skins a couple. You understand my future wedding fears?

But after all it is only money and it was going fast. To see her and Brady, the already has a girlfriend date, make their spotlighted appearance during the grand march, it was pretty much worth it. At the close of the grand march all could say was, "Oh, ya."

Family Milestone

Tonight the family officially grew. Tad, the oldest of the Espeseth boys, at a whopping 36, gave his longtime (ten years) girlfriend Missy, a diamond, on her 30th birthday. It was a surprise to all of us, including her. He did have a head injury two weeks ago, requiring seven staples on the top of his melon, that could be the change of thought. I think it knocked some sense into him.

She is a wonderful girl, a radiology technician at Trinity Hospital in Minot. She is quiet, mannerly, beautiful, smart, - just plain a gem of a girl. I read somewhere that boys like to marry girls just like dear old mom.

Anyway, we are delighted for them and wish them all the happiness. Missy's sister, Shelley, said to me "Missy really likes the idea of a "warm" wedding." So I look at it this way: If they rush into the wedding as fast as the engagement I will have time to save money, lose 25 pounds, and the last three will be out the door so we won't have to worry about child care, (take them with- bite your tongue!) But we may also have to worry about how well wheelchairs move on the beach.

How Did I Do This??

When I work on this blog stuff I feel like our granddaughter, Lainey, who is 13 months old. I'm sure many times a day she experiments, likes the outcome but can't remember exactly how she did it. Then of course, she gets stuck, and so does grandma. Our other grandchild, Collin is 3. He told his Dad he wasn't going to the daycare on a particular day. Erik asked, "Oh ya, how come?" "Well I make the deals around here and I'm not going!" Collin is past experimenting and has moved on to implementing. My next attempt is to get a photo of Collin onto my laptop. Stay tuned.

Thought you'd smile

I managed to get the photo on, taken by my friend Karlyn. Next project: quarter turn rotation. It is so fitting of my dilemma, I just had to put it on this way, mostly because I don't know how to turn it.

Minus the Photo, Blogging Goes On!

Now I am all goofed up. I tried to upload another photo and it says it is corrupt, or doesn't recognize the format. That was after I deleted the photo I had on there, Geez...

I have been in Fargo working on the house, along with Tom, my brother. We have days and days, possibly weeks, of work left; you just don't undo 50 years of a house in a long weekend. Lots of memories, stuff and junk.

We found a thank you note from Charles Kerault, the CBS guy. It was typed and signed by him in blue ink. He thanked my Dad for the information he had sent him. We really didn't know what the info was, but I think it had to do with the book, "Travels with Charley" by John Steinbeck.

Mr. Keroult, had a show on TV called "On the Road with Charles Kerault." He travelled the lower 48 in a motorhome with stories of people, places and other things of note. So did John Steinbeck many years before. Mr Steinbeck did his tripping with his poodle dog, Charley, and wrote the book, "Travels with Charley." Steinbeck penned one of my favorite books, "The Grapes of Wrath."

At our house the Steinbeck book had special meaning, serious meaning. Let me explain. We had an old (not at the time, of course) huge cabinet TV. I think a "console" TV was yet to burst forth. Anyway, it stood about four feet tall and about two and a half feet wide. It had two door with ornate carvings, it looked like a short side by side wooden fridge. It was the first TV we had, and incidentally we had it from about 1953 until 1967 or so, until we got the color set in the summer of '67.

Inside this behemoth was a screen about 2 feet by 2 1/2 feet, a speaker box underneath of equal size, and a row of dials separating the two main items. The sound knob was on the left with a few little dials in the middle (one surely was horizontal hold, as that was always a nagging problem back in those days)and the channel changer on the right. The sound and channel changer were knobs about the size of a small cookie. Nowadays buttons and knobs are no bigger than an almond sliver or a tic tak. Go figure that design concept; have our fingers shrunk?

Over time these knobs became loose or worn from their factory snugness. At our house the channel changer was the touchy item. It needed just the right torque to give us the black and white shows we waited all week for. Back in the fifties and sixties one was much more resourceful in making things work. No trip to Walmart was in our future because the TV wasn't working at peak performance.

Now just under the row of nobs was a wooden ledge with an inch to inch and a half gap seperating the nobs and the speaker box. Something was needed to push the channel changer into full throttle, to bring in the picture. Guess what fit snuggly into that gap under the channel changer? None other than the venerable book, "Travels with Charley." That book was as important at our house as today's remote, a.k.a. the shooter.

My father, who did well at seeing the beyond, I'm sure thought this would be a nice yarn to respin for Mr. Kerault. After all both were Charley's, both had experience at touring the country, never mind that one was a dog. I guess we'll not know for sure if that was what the letter was in regard to. But as family lore goes, I think it will stick. I have yet to run into the book. I sure hope Dad didn't send it to him. That reminds me of MY Ole the Hermit carvings, and who he gave them to, but that is another story in the life of a blogger.

P.S. Coming soon, a photo.

Eureka

I think I am getting the hang of this blog thing. My goal is to write everyday and be of interest to someone. That may be hard to do; my dad is no longer living and my mom doesn't remember what a computer is, and may think a blog is something found in a bathtub drain. Although if we get our wireless connection completed at the nursing home I can bring the laptop and show her. She and Dad were my only fans.

My next big hurdle is the invite. I may start with my friends who secretly think I'm odd, but are a wee bit curious to read this. I have friends from high school who I have kept up with enough to email asking them to check out the blog, reinforcing what they have always thought about me. Odd comes into the story once again.

I have an old high school friend, who last I heard, was a stringer for the LA Times. She will make me nervous. One must take chances and this will be it. Go easy on me Nancy.