“It’s always a nice day above the clouds.”
Partly cloudy is today’s weather report. It seems to be the weather report for most days. The rain may start tonight, but it will definitely be rainy tomorrow. I believe the weather man said we should expect 40 days and 40 nights of rain.
My dance card is filled with uke, with practice, my lesson and a concert. I am going to have to emerge from my hibernation cave.
When I was a kid, I had to walk to school in the rain. I didn’t have an umbrella or a raincoat so I sat at my desk with wet hair, wet shoes and wet socks, but I didn’t really care. I was a kid. I didn’t know discomfort. That belonged to older people.
Cleaning my house is a lesson in futility. When I vacuum, I swear the dust is hiding and waiting because as soon as I’m finished, it reappears in clumps to plague me. When I was in Moscow, at any museum, we were required to wear covers on our shoes. I figured it was a cheap way to keep the floors clean. I have adopted that Russian cleaning method. Right now I am wearing muk luks over my socks. I drag my feet across floors, and my muk luks collect the dust. Next, I need to find a way to wash the kitchen floor using little or no effort. I’m thinking maybe just gliding in wet socks is the answer.
I remember Jiffy Pop. I remember how long it took to pop while I shook the aluminum package over the burner using the metal handle. My favorite part was watching the foil in the middle expand. Sometimes, if I wasn’t careful, the bottom kernels burned. After the popping, I remember tearing the aluminum off the top and watching the steam escape. My mother salted the popcorn a bit and always added melted butter. My fingers got butter sticky.
My mother used to buy powdered milk. We didn’t drink it; instead, she used to reconstitute it and use it in making pudding, chocolate pudding as we never had any other kind. It was her way of saving the bottled milk. The pudding was cook on the stove pudding, never instant. It always tasted good.
I am watching The Horror of Party Beach. It was made in 1964, is black and white and stars John Scott and Eulabelle Moore. I’m thinking the movie is its own horror.
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April 2, 2024 at 1:51 pm
Hi Kat,
Today is a beautiful day with a few clouds and a high temperature of only 68°.
Your title reminds me of my paternal grandmother. In 1959 my father flew to New York from Dallas for business meetings. He then brought his mother back with him to visit us and it was her first time on an airplane. When they departed La Guardia airport it was cloudy and drizzly with some light rain. After takeoff, they climbed above the clouds where the sun was shining and my grandmother said to my father, “See, I had a feeling it was going to turn out to be a nice day”. 🙂 My other immigrant grandmother flew to Dallas in 1960. When she arrived I asked her how was her flight. She replied that they flow over so much water. I said that there is no water between New York and Dallas. I said those were clouds. She replied, “Oh no, clouds are up there, water is down there”. 🙂 My maternal grandmother lived to see men walking on the moon.
I can remember my mother buying Jiffy Pop when I was a kid. I also got a kick out of watching the aluminum foil expand with the popping kernels inside. By the time my kids came along, microwave popcorn was available. They were not fascinated watching the bag expand in the microwave oven.
My mother never bought powered milk. She obviously thought it wasn’t as good as whole milk for anything. I’m amazed that my arteries haven’t clogged up from all that whole milk and butter that she served daily before anyone knew about cholesterol. 🙂
April 3, 2024 at 12:45 pm
Hi Bob,
It is already raining. First were tiny balls of sleet which bounced off my car. It is in the mid-40’s, but a cold, raw mid-40’s. I just got back from my uke lesson, and I’m staying put the rest of the day.
I love your grandmother stories. The first story my grandmother might have said if she had ever flown. I don’t think she ever went far as she rode. She did come down here to visit, the only time she was ever at my house. I know my other grandmother traveled but she didn’t fly either.
The best thing about microwave popcorn is the sound. I do love hearing the popping.
We always drank real milk. The milkman delivered it. The powered milk was only used for things like the pudding so we wouldn’t finish the milk.