Vicarious Living

As we were pummeled with cold temps and then eight inches of snow, some might feel a certain resentment toward those who posted pics on FB of sunnier climes and adventurous vacations.

Not me. One of my oft-repeated sayings is, "I live vicariously through others." 

So I wasn't (too) jealous of Axel posting photos of his European trip. I enjoyed the photos and video footage of old Beatle haunts, Paris landmarks and such. My curiosity was piqued by Ryan and his nighttime adventures in Tucson with javalinas. (I didn't even know what a javalina was before.) And I could almost taste the birthday cake at my grandniece's 2nd birthday party. (Happy Birthday, Piper!) 

Meanwhile, we're housebound, but I don't mind much. The driveway has been shoveled (thanks to Lonnie's nephews for the assist) and we're hunkering down for another quiet day indoors. I'll Skype with my kid tomorrow. And we'll venture out afterward to do grocery shopping, hit a library and pick up some coffee from Troubadour, my favorite local roaster. 

Clearly, no one will be living vicariously through me, but I'm okay with that. Wanderlust is in my rearview mirror now. My world is shrinking, like it did for my parents. And while I sometimes dream about visiting exotic locales like those depicted in the Death in Paradise series Mr. and I watch, I know it's unlikely I'll visit the Caribbean again soon. (On the other hand, there's a lot of murder and mayhem on that show, so maybe it's just as well.)

The upshot here is, I enjoy hearing from all of you about what you're doing, where you're going and how you're celebrating. And if my adventures are of the secondhand kind, that's cool – bring it on!

I'll just be here living it up vicariously.

Toasting Tracey

Back in the day, we'd sit in Harry's office during brainstorming meetings and shoot the breeze in a lame attempt to avoid the topic at hand. This was in the beforetimes, when people worked in office buildings and you interacted with coworkers face-to-face.

But I digress.

Sometimes, someone would pose a question. Like, "Who would you want to play you in the movie about your life?"

Naturally, one needed to suspend disbelief because none of us was likely to see the story of our life depicted on the big screen. 

In any event, the answer to this question tells a lot about the person whose life is being reconstructed. There are those who want Julia Roberts or George Clooney to play them, because, well, why not? But those of us with more imagination dug a little deeper to find someone who was more like themself in personality. 

My answer, then and now, is Tracey Ullman. I'd be honored if she was me.

From my first exposure to Ullman in the 1980s and through the ensuing years, I've been bedazzled by her talents – an amazing sketch comedian who can play just about anyone, from a wise-cracking teen to a creaky old broad. She's been a dancer, singer, actress, producer, writer and director. In other words, she's got the whole magilla goin' on.

Tracey (I hope she doesn't mind my using her first name, we are the same age, after all) is one of those folks who's been just about everywhere and done a little of everything in the entertainment world but has nowhere near the social media presence of the far less talented Kardashians and other influencers. She has tons of awards for her work here and across the pond. Fun fact: The Simpsons was a spinoff from the original Tracey Ullman Show that ran in the late 1980s.

So, what made me think of Tracey this week? YouTube, which often gets my preferences  wrong in bizarre ways, surprisingly came up with this video that Tracey did in support of her album, You Broke My Heart in 17 Places. The song is called They Don't Know About Us, and the video is hilarious. It also has a surprise ending, which I will not spoil for you in case you haven't seen it. This song and the album's title song were written by Kirsty MacColl, a talented singer and songwriter who left us all too soon.

I'm not going to list all Tracey's accomplishments, because I haven't that much room here. Suffice to say, she's stinkin' impressive. For the record, she's also on my short list of people I'd love to have dinner with. (And not just because of the lovely British accent.) 

I know that'll never happen, but a girl can dream.

In the meantime, I'm going to put on her album and have myself a good smile. 

No Whistling Hiawatha

There's only one time in my life where I made a New Year's resolution and stuck with it. 

photo attribution below*

That was the year I resolved to exercise and lose weight. I kept to this resolution for a few years, and it actually worked. I dropped the weight and felt great.

Then, in spite of my protestations that I'd never backslide, I began doing just that, putting a bunch of the weight back on. 

So, here we are, another year dawning, and the specter of resolutions has risen its ugly head again. Time to compile yet another list of mostly-things-I-won't-do. Here goes:

1. Engage in less social media. This resolution has become quite popular it seems, especially given the intrusive nature of ads and the proliferation of trolls in social media. However, I'm already mostly what some would call a "shut-in," so cutting off this form of contact with the outside world seems a bit extreme.
2. Buy fewer jigsaw puzzles. Ya, that's not gonna happen. Instead, I'm going to be more selective about the ones I acquire, take full advantage of the puzzle exchange at the library and complete and give away any puzzles in the stash.
3. Get rid of some of my books. This is an ongoing battle. There are doubtless some books I can easily part with. But I suspect this item will be on my list of resolutions into infinity.
4. Return to my exercise routine. This one is actually doable. My workouts were put on pause during whatever-this-lingering-virus-is, but I plan to begin anew next week. 
5. Cut down on portions. Notice I didn't say "lose weight." That's the ultimate goal, of course, but if I start by putting less food in my pie hole, the result will be the same.
6. Learn how to use my new air fryer. This holiday gift from my employer is currently sitting in my kitchen, staring at me accusingly day after day. It seemed like a good idea when I chose it from the catalog of gifts, but now I have to actually use the bugger. (Anyone have any good recipes they can recommend?)
7. Complete one of my sewing projects. I have several to do. Surely I can finish at least one of them this year. (Alas, history has proved otherwise.)
8. Organize my photos. This one is pure pie-in-the-sky, of course. One look at the pile of pictures is enough to put me into procrastination mode. And sorting through my digital pics (most of them of the cats we've had) will take decades. (Is that Marge, Mabel or Maggie?)
9. Improve meal planning. Several years ago, I went through the huge stack of recipes I'd copied and organized them. But I still make the same couple dozen or so meals. It would be nice to expand my repertoire. 
10. Reduce intake of caffeine and chocolate. You all needed a good laugh today, right? Here you go.

After considering all of the above, I realized they all had to do with external forces. But what I really need is something that satisfies from within. So, tapping into my spiritual side (which has gotten lost somewhere in day-to-day survival mode), I came up with a plan to start meditating again. If I can carve out a half hour after dinner every night, I think this will help my transition from work mode to relax mode. It's the one thing I can do that will help me feel better about myself. 

So, y'all are my witnesses. I've stated it publicly, so now I feel like I have to fulfill this resolution. The other stuff can wait.

Except for the air fryer. I really need to start cooking on that one!

*Bob Satterfield, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons. I didn't understand the reference to "Whistling Hiawatha." Tumbling down the rabbit hole, as I am wont to do, I found this on YouTube.

A Sickening End to 2023

Well, the good new is, I didn't have to work last week. The bad news is, I was sick throughout my time off. 

public domain photo

My symptoms have been many and varied and included pretty much all the classic cold/flu nasties except gastrointestinal distress (Yes, I'm knocking wood right now). I do know it's not COVID, and I had a flu shot.

Whatever did we do to diagnose ourselves before the Google came along? I'm not sure if I'm headed for a life-threatening case of pneumonia, if I simply have a persistent cold that refuses to relinquish its hold on me or I've acquired RSV. Fun fact: most insurance plans don't pay for the RSV vaccine, even though those TV commercials tell you that getting one is a smart idea (at $200 a pop).

Fortunately, Mr. Ginley seems to be getting better, and I think he's a couple days ahead of me, so there is hope.

In the meantime, I'm going to continue to hunker down, eat chicken soup, drink tea with honey in it and cross my fingers that I'm well enough to work by the time the New Year rolls around.

I hope all of you are doing okay. Feel free to chime in with any home remedies that have worked for you. 

As for me, I'm going to go watch another Hallmark movie. Talk at you next year!

When Christmas Goes Viral

Being sick over the holidays is nothing new. Everything old is old again, as I struggle with the creeping crud, aka a sinus infection.

The Christmas dress, post-mumps

It seems that every year at this time, I catch something or other. One of the most memorable Christmas illnesses struck when I was in fifth grade. 

Mom made me a dark green dress for the holiday, and I couldn't wait to wear it. I jumped out of bed to go to church that morning and donned the dress, ignoring the discomfort that was beginning to radiate from my throat. If I ignored it, everything would be grand.

Of course, Mom took one look at my peaky (not to mention bloated) face and informed me I wasn't going anywhere but back to bed. 

"You've got the mumps," she proclaimed. Sure enough, when I looked in the mirror, I saw a blowfish. Or, to be more precise, a blowfish that was crying copiously. 

Now, I know what some of you are thinking. Oh, the vanity. Ya, well, I was 10 years old, so give me a break here, okay? I was never terribly pious, even at the best of times. I'd squirm through Christmas mass, counting down the minutes until I could go home and unwrap my pile of gifts. I loved Baby Jesus as much as the next kid, but He had some pretty stiff competition. Nonetheless, my Mom insisted we do the right thing and pay homage before turning into greedy little monsters. Ah, well.

Meanwhile, here in 2023, we're fortunate that my family got together last weekend, and we were okay for that. Unfortunately, we had to postpone the holiday celebration with the kids. The last thing we want to do is share our jimmy germs with them. So that's disappointing, but it will give us all something to look forward to when this gunk goes away.

I hope you all find peace this holiday season. And that your health is one thing you don't have to worry about.

Sending hugs to everyone. I'll be home watching Christmas movies.

I'm sure we have a few around here somewhere... 

Pea Picking Moments

I was making vegetable soup the other night. I've come up with a very simple recipe. The base is V-8, I throw in some beef bullion and cabbage. And a 12 ounce bag of frozen vegetables.

photo attribution below

But here's the rub: Mr. Ginley won't eat peas.

So there I was, trolling through a bag of frozen veggies, removing all the peas. As I was doing so, it occurred to me that this activity was much like sorting puzzle pieces. It's a bit tedious overall, but also possibly therapeutic. Or, at least it would be if I weren't in a bit of hurry to get dinner going. Fortunately, I enjoy peas, so the little greenies won't go to waste or anything. No harm done. 

As I pea-picked, I ruminated. I've noticed that some brands of frozen vegetables have more peas than others. For example, the last bag I excavated was Green Giant (or maybe Birds Eye?). There were far fewer peas than in my Giant Eagle bag. I began to wonder if maybe peas were more (or less?) costly than other vegetables.

I decided to go on the internet and check it out. But alas, the Google failed me. You may find this difficult to believe, but no one (that came up in the first few Google SERPs) mentioned anything about the combination of vegetables in national brands vs. local brands. Hard to believe, right?

In the meantime, I did learn that private label frozen veggies account for the largest share of the market, followed not-so-closely by Birds Eye. Coming in much further down was Pictsweet Farms, then Green Giant, then everyone else.

I know what you're thinking...absolutely fascinating, right?

Still, there was no answer as to which brand had the fewest peas, so I was right back where I started. 

Mulling it over later, the obvious solution presented itself. If I purchased one bag of green beans, one bag of corn and one bag of carrots, I could assemble my own mixed vegetables and save myself the pea picking. 

Well, as my old buddy Homer would say, DOH!

All that was left was to figure out how much of each vegetable would comprise 12 ounces. Here, the Google was actually helpful. There are 1 1/2 cups of veggies in a 12 ounce bag. Therefore, I would need 1/2 cup each of the carrots, beans and corn. 

And y'all thought taking maths in school was a waste of time. All those stinkin' word problems I hated in fifth grade finally came in handy.

Here's one for you to try. If Mrs. Ginley buys two Mounds chocolate bars and gives one to Mr. Ginley, how many does Mrs. Ginley have left? 

The answer? Two...Mr. Ginley hates coconut, so he gave his back. 

And that wily Mrs. Ginley didn't have to share.

Photo attribution: David Adam Kess, CC BY-SA 4.0 via Wikimedia Commons

Greeting-Less Seasons

I suppose it's inevitable that in our zoom-zoom society, holiday cards would go the way of the Dodo bird.

Lavishly-designed cards sprinkled with glitter used to be an integral part of the holiday season. My Mom had a crafty card holder for awhile. It was made from a Pringles potato chip can with strands of yarn strung from top to bottom. We'd sit and flip through the cards to discover greetings from relatives and friends near and far. Some included letters summarizing their year. Most were simply signed. 

I imagine these days it's just ONE MORE THING that folks just can't cope with. I get that. For several years, Mr. Ginley sent out the cards because I just couldn't manage it. But this year, I took on the task. 

The danger in sending out cards, of course, is that you risk irritating people who feel compelled to send you a card simply because you sent them one. Just to be clear, I don't mail my greetings in a pathetic attempt to guilt people into returning the favor. Although I do enjoy getting them.

Somewhere in my pile of stuff I have stacks of old greeting cards of yesteryear. I'm thinking of pulling them out and looking at them again. It'd be nice to see our folks' signatures and imagine them being with us in spirit this holiday. The world is just such a frightful place these days, I could use a little comfort, even if it comes from a distant past.

The holiday season really is a mixed bag, eh? So much merry and melancholy in one messy bundle. Oh well. 

Whatever holidays you may be celebrating (Christmas? Hanukkah? Festivus?) I hope you find some peace and joy in the season.

And if I haven't sent you a holiday card and you'd like one, let me know. 

I still have a bunch left.