Rainy Day and Little Sister #1

As Rainy Day has told you before, she has a large Family of Choice, but the other day, she had the excitement of meeting up with her biological sister for the first time in almost 20 years.  You see, Rainy Day's parents were divorced when Rainy D was a little girl, and both subsequently remarried. Rainy's Daddy and his new wife had four children; Rainy's Mom and her new husband had zilch. So while Rainy Day is an only child, she also has four (half) siblings.

Needless to say, they were not raised together, and never became all that close, so when Little Sister #1 contacted Rainy Day a few weeks ago, and realized they don't live all that far apart and further suggested they meet for lunch at a place half way between their homes, Rainy Day was ecstatic! You see, she's always known her siblings, because she is so much older than they, but they have not always known her.

The day came, and Rainy Day was very grateful for cruise control on her car, otherwise, she would have broken the speed laws in her excitement and hurry to meet up with #1. They had a great visit, traded all sorts of funny family gossip, and made arrangements to meet again, at least once, before the weather turns sour and travel becomes a tad bit more iffy.

As Richard Bach says, "Rarely do members of the same family grow up under the same roof." Rainy Day knows this – that's why she has such a large, and loving, Family of Choice. But, she thinks, it's also a great gift to have a family of biology, too. Perhaps because as an only child Rainy Day is now an orphan?

At any rate, Rainy Day is very excited about meeting up with #1 Sister, and hopes you will join in her excitement, and be sure that you tell your siblings (of choice or biology) how much you love them for being them and for loving you.

Rainy Day and the Protest Movements

This morning, a young friend of Rainy Day's who lives in Singapore, asked if Rainy Day had ever marched in a protest. Now, Rainy Day has been around long enough to have marched in several, and in a way, I guess she did. Both march (and march, and march. She still hears her DI counting cadence in her dreams!) and protest.

You see Rainy Day considers herself a Peace Monger. She hates wars. She agrees with the bumper sticker so popular in the 1960s that stated, "Wars are unhealthy for children and other living things!"  During the 1960s, she protested the Viet Nam war the only way she knew how.  (That was so long ago that Vietnam was still two words!)

While many of her classmates wore tie dyed clothes and long straight hair festooned with flowers (to which Rainy Day is highly allergic), Rainy Day cut her thick curly hair and enlisted in the WAC (Women's Army Corps, no longer around. Rainy Day really is an antique;-).  While Jane Fonda was busy sleeping with the North Vietnamese, Rainy Day was attempting to sleep on the ground in Alabama during Basic Training too close for comfort to deadly, unseen, (but heard, she swears!) pygmy rattlers.

Rainy Day never understood the hippie's protest movement.  She always thought the best way to end a war was to win it -- or it would haunt you forever.  "Look," she is fond of saying, "at the South."

She still protests, but not by marching, camping, or chanting. She writes letters. And she signs them with her name and adds, "I am a Woman, a Veteran, and I Vote!" Her politicians know who she is and what she stands for. Do yours know who you are, and what you stand for? Why not?

Rainy Day Has Wrinkles!

NOTE: One person responded to last week's Big Question. Thank you, Shelley! I think you are probably correct, and will let you know once verified;-)

Rainy Day does not understand all the hoopla over wrinkle removers. Rainy D has wrinkles, and she's quite content. Yes, they make her look a bit older, but she remembers all the adventures that put them there--the near misses while traveling the Blue Highways, the trials (not to mention the tribulations) of raising two children. She remembers her Dearly Beloved Ex and the fun times they had at the beginning of their relationship. Oh, and the memories from Basic Training, and the memories from her jobs after the military. Yes, Rainy D is actually somewhat proud of her wrinkles, and really doesn't see a reason to go spend good, hard earned money to get rid of them.

Rainy D would rather spend that money on books! She doesn't have quite so many all over her house any more, but she still buys them. Rainy Day has come, kicking and screaming, into the electronic age – she has an eReader, and on that little, hand held computer, she has books, books, and more books. She even gets her favorite magazine delivered not to her door, but to her eReader! Why, Rainy Day can even read those books on her phone! Whatever is this world coming too?

Why should Rainy Day care about wrinkles? Her quilts don't care that she has wrinkles. Her animals don't care. Her kids never notice and her eReader only wants to be held, and now and again charged.

           

Even if she got rid of her wrinkles, Rainy Day is positive she would never have the beauty of Sophia Loren or Elizabeth Taylor – so she is content to stay wrinkled and be happy as she is. Unless, of course, by getting rid of the wrinkles, she might have a chance with the cute young man next door....

(And if you'd like to see what books Rainy Day has read, and if it's suitable for eReaders, go to Rainy Day Reads.)

Something Else that Rainy Day Misses - Accents

Rainy Day desires to apologize to you, her gentle readers, for being so late in getting her post up. You see, the cherries on her trees are ripe, and ready for picking, and Rainy D got up bright and early this morning to get one (of two) trees picked before the heat set in -- or the lawn guy showed up. She now has two huge bowls of cherries to wash, pit, and freeze in quart bags for this coming Jam Session in October;-)

Now, back to our regularly scheduled programming...

When Rainy Day was a little girl, and could hear without hearing aids, she lived in a culturally diverse city – Portland, Oregon. And, being totally without manners, when she heard someone talk differently than she talked, she'd march right up to them and ask where they were from. If they spoke a language she didn't know (she barely knew English, and you can believe she didn't know any others) she marched right up to them, and asked what language they were speaking. She loved all the different languages she heard, and the different accents.

By the time Rainy Day entered High School, she could pretty well tell where any accent she heard was from. She could distinguish a Bronx from a Brooklyn, a Louisville from an Anniston, a German from...well, you get the point.

Rainy Day loves accents. When she was nine years old, she spent a summer in the South with her grandparents, and never got enough of Cajun or New Orleans or Georgia. She could tell by the radio stations where they were. She thought she'd died and gone to Accent Heaven.

There were times when her love of accents got her in trouble, too. And times when it brought happiness. Rainy Day was also an unconscious mimic. A young man used to come to the house to sell Spud Nuts, door to door. We always bought a half dozen – they were, after all, to die for. One day, Rainy Day answered the door, and this young man asked his usual question, and Rainy Day turned around and mimicked him perfectly – without realizing what she had done. Rainy Day's mother was furious. She bought a dozen spud nuts, and wouldn't let Rainy Day have any.

Then, there was Rainy Day's girl friend, Olivia. Olivia's mother was a war bride from a small part of London. After Olivia and I graduated from high school, and I had my own apartment, Olivia's mother used to call me every so often, ostensibly to talk to Olivia should she be at Rainy Day's domicile. She never was. Rainy Day finally figured it out – she was homesick, and Rainy Day, without realizing what she did, mimicked her accent perfectly.  Years later, long after Rainy Day lost track of Olivia and her mother, she met an Englishman at work, and told him the story. He asked if she could remember the accent, as he was from London. Rainy Day looked at him, and started speaking. He, in turned laughed, "That's from Such-and-Such area, it's about a four city blocks of London, and are you sure you weren't raised there?"

And then, a double-edged sword sliced it's way through our culture -- cable television and syndicated radio. Now, everyone talks like everyone else, what Rainy Day calls NPR Vanilla. The newscasters from Portland, Maine sound like the ones from Portland, Oregon who sound like the ones from New Orleans, Louisiana. If one wants to hear accents now they must watch those 'reality' shows and hope the actors can do the accents more or less correctly. Rainy Day is starved for accents, but not that starved. Even when she travelled around the country a few years ago, the only accents she heard on the radio were in commercials.

Rainy Day is not advocating a return to the 'good old days' but, golly gosh, she really would love to hear regional accents again. She misses them, greatly.

Things That Rainy Day Misses - Footnotes

       THANK YOU VETERANS, AND YOUR FAMILIES!    

Remember footnotes?  Those notes in tiny print under a black line at the bottom of the page?  What happened to them?  Where did they go?  Did they get tired of hanging onto the black line and slide off the page to be eaten by the dust bunnies under the bed?

            Rainy Day reads a lot of nonfiction, and she reads it for enjoyment as much as to learn, and because she reads everything, she reads the footnotes.

            When they were at the bottom of the page, it was easy to glance down and see if the author added something worth reading, or merely a reference bibliography.  A quick glance and it was either read, or ignored, and then back to the rest of the story.  Mere seconds required.  Nano seconds.  

            Footnotes now only exist when Rainy Day (Mary Roach and John Man) type them.  And if Rainy Day writes them, she already knows what they say and she doesn’t need to glance to the bottom of the page, except to proof.

            Now, someone in his infinite wisdom – probably someone who isn’t a ‘true reader’ – has changed the publishing of books.  Footnotes are passé.  They are old fashioned.  Nota non grata.  They ain’t used no more.  They have become the red headed orphan. Why?

            The best answer Rainy Day has found is a slam to all who are not working in academia.  Footnotes have migrated to endnotes for the sole reason (so she's been told) because people found them irritating and in the way, and no one but academes read them anyway, so why not put them in the back, out of the way, allowing the text to flow more beautifully.  Say what? 

            In an era when the mantra seems to be ‘time is money,' and more and more items are put on the market to tout the saving of time – pocket computers, electronic dictionaries, wireless phones, wireless computers (and wireless brains?) – all geared to save one time, books have devolved into endnotes.

           While it’s true Rainy Day may have more time than money, she still has lots of books to read, quilts to make, things to do, and people to see.  She must spend her time as wisely as she spends her money.  Time, like money, is not to frivolously twitter away on endeavors of questionable quality.  Like endnotes.

            Now, instead of one bookmark, and mere seconds to scan a footnote to determine whether it’s something to read or not, Rainy Day must flip to the back of the book and find the endnotes.  She now needs two bookmarks (She actually read one book that required three bookmarks.  She admits, it was a textbook of sorts, so some silliness could be expected).  Every time Rainy Day comes to one of the small, superscript numbers in the text, she must now stop reading, disrupt the flow, hold her place, go to the back, scan until she finds the matching number, and determine whether or not to read the note.  Then she must go back to the book.  This process no longer takes mere seconds. 

            Admittedly, some authors are kind enough to use endnotes as bibliography notes, with no text – a quick scan and Rainy Day can tell she doesn't need to keep up the flipping and flapping of pages.  And sometimes, she can scan down the notes and make a mental note that she doesn't need to check them until she gets to number 347.  But too often, there is good stuff in the notes that she doesn't want to miss. 

            And chapter endnotes.  Oy veh! Rainy Day hopes the person who came up with notes at the end of the chapter spends eternity flipping through pages trying to quickly find the end of the chapter.  Eternity is a long time.  He may get his just rewards.  (Rainy Day hopes he sits next to the person who invented white baby shoes, and spends his eternity polishing them.)

            Furthermore, Rainy Day doesn't believe the argument that paper is saved any more than she believes that nonacademic readers aren’t interested in footnotes.

            Alright, perhaps had she learned to enjoy reading while sitting in a chair, possibly at a table, endnotes might not hold the dire amounts of frustration they currently do.  Yes, Rainy Day learned to read sitting in a chair at a desk, but for pure enjoyment, her favorite way to read a book is stretched out on her back in bed.  Or on the sofa.  Or maybe a hammock.  And, at her age, she has earned the right to read where she wants to.  If it’s technical, or job related, she reads at her desk.  But Rainy Day doesn’t have a job any more.  She's retired.

            Footnotes.  One of many things that quietly slipped into the history box labeled “The good old days” of which Rainy Day is more and more convinced does exist -- someplace.

            And yes, she reads cereal boxes.

Rainy Day and Her World of Silence

Rainy Day has lived in a fairly silent world for several years, and until recently, it hasn't bothered her all that much.

Many years ago, she went to the Dr. and had her hearing tested. Turns out that it was clinically proven she was going soft in the head. Well, at least the wee little bones in her ears were going soft, so for a year, she took fluoride pills to harden those little suckers. The fluoride pills could stop the loss, but not reverse it.

One thing all those tests revealed is that she had acute hearing in the high range (the range usually lost first) and in the low range, but only 2 decibels left in the mid range, where human voice is.

So, being as how her left ear was her worst ear, she got a hearing aid for her left ear. Big mistrake! Her left ear is her telephone ear, and try as hard as Rainy Day did, she could never get used to using her right ear for the phone.  After a few months, Rainy Day discovered it was far more comfortable to allow her dresser drawer to wear the hearing aid, than for her to wear it, so in the drawer, in it's little box it did stay.

Finally, a few weeks ago, after Rainy Day attended several meetings where she could not hear many of the speakers, she decided to get her hearing retested and to try some new hearing aids. Her world of silence is now over! The new aids are digital, rather than her old analog, and while she knows they are in her ears, they are not uncomfortable, especially when she's talking on the phone!

Rainy Day's world of silence is gone, except at night. When she got her aids the first thing she noticed was how noisy Costco was! Then, as she drove home, she noticed she could actually hear her car – was something wrong?-- it sounded different. Oh, right, she'd never actually heard it before.

She came home and turned the TV on and immediately cut the volume by half! She walked into the kitchen and heard a strange sound, electrical, rhythmic, and eventually figured out it was her Grandmother's old clock – she hadn't heard it since she was a child. In her office was an annoying click, click, click, rather like a slow beating metronome. Yep, you guessed it, the quartz clock on her wall. Her office shares a communal wall (right behind her chair) with the laundry room and furnace. Can you guess how loud they seem now?

Do you have any idea how loud a key board is? Rainy Day does. Even with the hearing aid volume turned down, her typing clacks like a train with a square wheel. Or how noisy clothes are as they are put on or removed? Rainy Day is discovering the joys of hearing water come out of the faucet, her little dog bark, and the wind as it serenades.

The real joy, however, is in hearing people, especially in groups. The agony is in re-teaching her brain to filter out all the background noises that normal hearing folks learned years ago. Noises like washing machines, conversations at other tables in restaurants, the noise of big box stores.

Rainy Day also found out she had some damage done at some point, and that she has a low tolerance for loud noises (She believes her tolerance is 90 decibels, tops!). Isn't that strange? She's deaf but doesn't like loud noises, actually loud noises are quite painful. Go figure. So, it looks like attending live concerts, movies, etc. are still not in Rainy Day's future. Fortunately, the really good ones come out on DVD where she can control the volume—and hit the pause button when she needs to refill her glass;-)

Now, when someone asks Rainy Day a question, she will be able to hear it and respond appropriately instead of sometimes raising eyebrows.

Question: "Rainy Day, would you like to go shopping with me today?"

Answer: "No, I don't think snow is in the forecast."

While hearing will be fun, once she gets used to it, Rainy Day thinks she will also miss her World of Silence.

Rainy Day and Her Books

Rainy Day has been single for many years. There are reasons for this state of singlehood, and though Rainy Day prefers it, she is not recommending it for everyone. However, Rainy Day thinks husbands are too demanding. The expect things. Like breakfast before going to work, or on an early morning golf date with the boys, or a weekend fishing expedition. They further expect dinner when breakfast should be served.

Rainy Day does not like mornings. She thinks they should be avoided at all costs. In fact, if she never saw one for the rest of her life, she would be confident she had not only reached Heaven, but Heaven on Earth!

Rainy Day is also a curious person. She loves questions like, "Why?" or "How?", she wants to know why things work the way they do, how come they grow that way, not some other way, what would happen if? Husbands get tired of those questions.

Low stacks

To that end, Rainy Day is a bibliophile. Her eclectic collection of several hundred books has been trimmed somewhat by moving across country twice, but she still has books scattered all over her home. She calls her home "The Worm's Hole"—a name too many men associate with fish bait, a name she associates with books. Men, she found out, are not normally readers. Well, not of books she reads, anyhow.

Those few men she has known through the years who do read, tend more toward fishing or golfing magazines. They do not read history books, or science fiction or fantasy books, or memoir, or any of the other books Rainy Day would have a hard time living without.

And men seem to be just a tad bit narrow-minded when it comes to housecleaning. They seem to think Rainy Day has nothing better to do all day, especially now that she is retired, than to clean house. She does clean house. She now and then moves a stack of books from one room to the other. Or, if she has finished a book, it goes from one stack to another. She has lots of things better to do – read books, write books or stories, quilt, take pictures.

more books

Rainy Day is perfectly happy with books stacked on the floor, on tables, on shelves, in the bathroom, in the bedroom (where they are also spread around on her bed), in the living room, kitchen, sun room. There is not a room in Rainy Day's house that does not have books!

Men can be very narrow-minded at times. Rainy Day, as you my Gentle Readers know, is not narrow-minded—except when it comes to bigots and narrow-minded people. But she shall not sully her dainty little fingers by typing about those kinds of people.

Rainy Day and A Boy Named Sue

The 54th Grammy's were on the other night. Rainy Day missed them. Again. She had her nose buried in a book, and just couldn't bring herself to watch a bunch of really great entertainers she knew nothing about make a bunch of speeches she really didn't want to hear. And, she admits, she didn't want to cry when they did the tribute to Whitney Houston.

Rainy Day liked Whitney Houston. Or at least liked her music, never having had the honor to meet her in person. Rainy Day got to thinking about other singers she's liked through the years – Michael Jackson, Elvis, Ed Ames, Johnny Cash....

Johnny Cash and his marvelous song about "A Boy Named Sue." Oh, Rainy Day could, indeed, relate to that song on a personal level. Perhaps not as strongly as Sue, but nevertheless Rainy Day could and did empathize with that boy named Sue.

Rainy Day's family was a little strange, too.  A time existed when Rainy D, as she came to be called, despised her parents, perhaps even hated them.  Not now. Now, chronologically at least, she is an adult and beyond such childish and immature emotions.

The War to End All Wars raged around the globe.  Rainy D's mom, pregnant by one of our Brave Boys In Uniform (to whom, if it's any of your business, she was married) hobbled to the hospital during the worst rainstorm since Noah's journey.  After a long and difficult labor (aren't they all?) Rainy D's mom produced a boiled-in-beet-juice red, squalling, albeit perfect, daughter.  When the nurse, exhausted after spending the whole night with screaming about-to-be mothers entered her mother's room to fill out the birth certificate and asked for the name, Rainy D's mom was talking to her Hero in Uniform over a very bad telephone connection.  Hero, in Communications, was stationed Stateside and had 'privileges.'  He asked about the weather, she responded it was a rainy day and the nurse dutifully wrote down what she heard before shuffling her weary self out of the room and off duty.

Rainy Day never forgave the nurse or her mother who laughed when she realized what had happened, and saw no reason to correct it.  But then, Rainy Day never bothered to change it either (she did like the name Margo for a long time, or even Sue).  Over the years, Rainy D realized she not only was used to the name, she actually rather liked it.  Her favorite song is still "A Boy Named Sue".

Rainy Day and The Good Old Days That Weren't

Rainy Day turned on the television a while ago to watch something while she ate her breakfast, reruns of The Twilight Zone. Now, Rainy Day is old enough to remember watching them the first time they aired, and she remembers a lot of the stories, so she settled down with her bowl of cereal and enjoyed Cliff Robertson leading his little wagon train to California. Only, of course, Cliff took a slight detour into The Twilight Zone.

Rainy Day enjoys a lot of the old TV shows – The Twilight Zone, M*A*S*H, the old Law & Order, and even some of the not-so-old CSI:Miami. Rainy Day admits, the last show is primarily for those few scenes when they are in the Everglades, and, oh, all right, Eric Delco is pretty easy on her eyes;-) And, of course, she loves NCIS – at least the parts where Dr. 'Ducky' Mallard stars. Rainy Day thinks David McCallum is the hottest actor on TV, and has held that opinion since his days as Illya Kuryakin.

Perhaps Rainy Day is getting old, and prefers living in the good old days that weren't?  She mentioned 'the good old days' to her Auntie Marie several years ago, and got quite a lecture about how the 'good old days' really weren't all that good. There were no antibiotics, children died or were crippled by diseases that today we hardly know about; cleanliness was not a way of life, death came early, was painful and smelly. Smallpox, polio, whooping cough...the list goes on and on.  The Surgeon didn't wash his hands or his equipment between patients, and was probably also the barber and or undertaker. Talk about one-stop shopping!

Enter a store to buy some pickles, and you would be pointed to the correct barrel. With your dirty hands (no sani wipes then) you'd reach into the barrel to pick out your pickle, then eat. Your dirty hands would follow a host of other and dirtier hands reaching in to the same barrel. Hands that had not been washed since morning, if then.

The towns and general stores of the Old West movies were nothing like what really existed. TV cleaned them. Actors wear antiperspirant, so we never see the sweat stains on the hero's shirt. (Fortunately, we still don't have smellevision;-) Actors also have proper dentists, so we don't see our hero with dirty, crooked, broken, or missing teeth. Mr. Grocer always fetches and hands Mrs. Shopper whatever she needs, thereby keeping the pickle barrel clean of any germs but his and he used a long handled fork. When people were shot, they dropped, they did not stagger back, collapse and jerk and take five minutes of prime time in which to die. And when they were shot, and died, it was messy, and smelly as muscles and sphincters relaxed, and that is never, ever shown.

So, no, Rainy Day is not waxing nostalgic for the good old days that never existed as such, she is waxing nostalgic for her youth, and all those hot men that used to be on the screens, both large and small, and the dreams she had of maybe, someday, meeting one. Of course, she still drools over many of today's hot young actors, but she is older and wiser and knows that she will never meet them, and even if she did, what could they possibly talk about?

Rainy Day and Finding Joy

Update, 25 January 2012!


Rainy Day contacted the contact person where Mr. Lee's Daughter is buried (Or at least a person with her name and birth date is buried) - no response. She did find out the name of the strip is Sherman on the Mount, and that is Brother Sherman facing the sunset. (Or perhaps, sun rise). She did contact the LA Times, who published the strip for Permission to post, and was informed she needed to contact the LA Times Syndicate, which she has done, and received a very nice auto response. So, soon, she hopes to either receive permission to keep it or be told to delete it.

Many years ago, Rainy Day worked for a large Aerospace Company. She had the wonderful opportunity to work in a group of writers that primarily worked proposals. Now, if you've never worked a proposal, you're probably thinking 'yeah? so?' but if you have had that same marvelous experience, Rainy Day is sure she has both your understanding – and heartfelt sympathy! Does Rainy Day presume too much?

Rainy Day remembers one week when she put 90 hours on her time card. 90 hours. In one week. And, she lived to tell about it! It was during that week as she ran (literally!) between her desk and the typing pool and the engineers, that she saw a cartoon on a bulletin board. She stopped, read it, took the few seconds to make her own copy, replace the original, and continue her run.

That cartoon, by Walt Lee, has hung over Rainy Day's desk ever since. It doesn't matter where she has worked, where she has lived, that cartoon is never packed longer than overnight! And is always in her sight when she sits at her desk. Always.

 

So, Rainy Day thought she would Google Walt Lee (why does it always sound slightly suggestive to 'Google' someone? Rainy Day wants to know? Really.), and if she could find a way to write him, to tell him how much his cartoon has meant in her life, she would do so.

Alas, to her dismay, she discovered he died in 1980. She has no idea the name of the cartoon (scanned and printed here without permission) or how to notify his family of the great joy that cartoon has brought her through the years, and seek that permission.

Rainy Day does not like to post things that are not hers without permission of the owner/artist or their estate so if any of you, Dearest and Gentlest of Readers, know the person she can contact for that permission, please tell her. In the meantime, she hopes this simple cartoon (colored by Rainy Day oh so many years ago) brings you the same wonderful and simple philosophy of life it has brought her. And the same happiness.

And, Mr. Lee, Thank You, for many moments of sanity in a very insane world! May Rainy Day be forgiven for sharing it on the world wide web. And may you find your joy, wherever you are, bright and early and first thing in the morning!

Rainy Day and Orlando's Solution to Obtain World Peace

Orlando

Many years ago, Rainy Day had the marvelous opportunity to throw coins in the Trevi Fountain, in Rome. One is an automatic wish to return to Rome, which would please Rainy Day no end if it would come true sometime, but alas.... The closest Rainy Day can get to Rome these days is having her hair done by Orlando, a stylist at the Trevi Salon & Spa in Kennewick. Sigh. The other coin and wish was for World Peace.

Through the years, Rainy Day has wondered if world peace is even achievable? And then she met Orlando. What makes Orlando interesting is not his great sense of humor, or his marvelous sense of style (and why in heaven's name is he working with Rainy Day's hair when he's both the stylist and as stylish as he is? But, that's another question, for someone else to figure out and write about on their blog!).  

What Rainy Day Wants to Look Like

What makes Orlando so utterly fascinating, to Rainy Day, is his solution to obtain World Peace. Yes, he has a solution, and it does not involve warfare! (Warfare for Peace just doesn't make a lot of sense to Rainy Day. Does it to you?) And, it just might work, if we could pull it off. You see Orlando believes if every woman in the world had her hair and makeup done every morning before she starts her day, that World Peace would be a natural outcome. And, if she can't get her hair done, then she should have a variety of spiffy and stylish wigs to wear!

There would be no 'bad hair days,' every woman would get a shampoo, set, comb out, whatever it takes. She would know she looked her absolute and stunning best, and be smiling and confident.

And if the women of the world were all smiling and confident, the men of the world would soon follow suit. Perhaps they, too, would get their hair done? Perhaps they would at least find a comb (some look like they haven't seen a comb in years, if ever! Rainy Day isn't sure what all hides in that hair, and doesn't want to get close enough to find out!)

The Other Wig Rainy Day Wants

Since the news is full of stories about boys not maturing into men, and since those boys are not going for college degrees like they used to, perhaps they should go to trade schools, and those with aptitude should become stylists? They could work for room, board, and Game-boy time. That's all they seem to want, so why not give it to them?

And the women can run the world, with confidence and well coiffed heads! May you never have another Bad Hair Day!

May your New Year be filled with Peace, Joy, Laughter, Dance, and Song! (And may testosterone poisoning continue to decline;-)

Rainy Day and the Bestest Ever thanksgiving Dinners

Many years ago, Rainy Day and her Dearly Beloved spent all day preparing a Thanksgiving Feast. There was enough food to feed the entire Batallion! Imagine the surprise when Rainy D, her Dearly Beloved, and their two children sat at the table, and all that lovingly prepared food didn't suit anyone's taste! The kids ate because they were starving, but they didn't eat much. The turkey was dry, the vegetables over cooked, this was bland, and that was too spicy; if you can think of an excuse to not eat something, believe Rainy Day when she says she's heard it before.

The best thing about that Thanksgiving is it ended without bloodshed.

Fried Tofu, Spring Rolls, Chicken Satay

The next Thanksgiving, Dearly Beloved told Rainy Day not to bother with shopping, as he had Thanksgiving handled. Dearly Beloved 'handled' lots of things, and not always to the liking of Rainy Day, or their children. However, Rainy Day had peanut butter and jelly on hand.

Thanksgiving Day arrived. And nary a turkey nor a ham to be found in the house. Hmmmmmm??????? Breakfast came and went, lunch came and went, and nary a sweet potato graced the oven. Not even a package of Hawaiian rolls on the kitchen counter! Hmmmmmmm???????

Turn Computer on side to see BBQ Honey Duck

"Okay, everyone in the car!" Dearly Beloved yelled his summons and into the car everyone piled. Dearly Beloved drove to a restaurant. Number One Daughter ordered shrimp off the menu, Number One Son ordered a cheeseburger, Dearly Beloved and Rainy Day went through the buffet line – he ate perfectly prepared turkey, and she ate wonderful ham. Everyone ate what he or she wanted to eat, not what he or she had to eat, and Rainy Day didn't have to clean the kitchen afterwards! Oh, the thrill of a Thanksgiving Feast was, at last, realized!

Phd Khee Mao Hong Kong & Thai Tea

Thus began Rainy Day's tradition of dining out on Thanksgiving Day. True, there is no turkey for Rainy Day to pick at for three months, which is fine by Rainy Day as she isn't all that fond of turkey. True, there is no left over mincemeat pie to add 36 pounds to Rainy Day's more than ample girth. But, most importantly, THERE IS NO MESS TO CLEAN when the meal is over and everyone else is napping or watching the television!

So, while you, Gentle Reader, planned your Thanksgiving Feast, drew up complicated time tables of when to prepare what in order to get it all to the table at the same time, while you, most Gentle of Readers, sat at a board groaning with a surfeit of food and ate entirely more than you planned, know that Rainy Day found a great Thai Restaurant that was open and serving from the menu! While you sat at said groaning board, with your family gathered around, Rainy Day did likewise. It's just that her table wasn't groaning, and Dearly Beloved is no longer included. Rainy Day didn't slave in a hot kitchen for hours and days ahead of time. She paid the chef at Thai Garden to slave. She paid the waiter at Thai Garden to bring the food, and to clear the table.

Number One Daughter & Number One Waiter!

Best Thai Chef in the World!

Yes, Rainy Day and her friend had BBQ Honey duck with spring rolls, fried tofu, and chicken satay appetizers, for dinner. She was served an amount that was perfect – there was even a bit left over to come home in a box to be devoured later. Number One Daughter had Pad Khee Mau Hong Kong. All were sufficiently suffonsified at the end of their meal and all took boxes of leftover delights home for later.

And, when Rainy Day got home, there was no mess to clean. No 57 bowls of stuff to be carefully balanced in the refrigerator. No 8,264 dishes, with correspondingly high numbers of silverware, to wash. And Rainy Day was truly Thankful for all the restaurants and their staff who forfeited their traditional, family Thanksgiving for her and others. To all those who worked on Thanksgiving so those of us who don't want to cook the feast but can still enjoy it, Rainy Day shouts out, "Thank You each and everyone one!"

Best Thai Chef and Best Support Husband;-)

Rainy Day hopes your Thanksgiving Feast was exactly what you wanted it to be, and that you enjoyed it tremendously. Rainy Day certainly enjoyed hers at the Thai Garden Restaurant!! She also recommends any time you are in Kennewick, and looking for a good meal, you, too, go to the Thai Garden! And if you are new to Thai food, this is the place to get introduced. Talk to the waiter, he'll help you decide what to order.

And what was your bestest ever Thanksgiving Dinner, and why?

Rainy Day and Masters of the Toast

Rainy Day has been paying attention to the way people speak for a long time. She unabashedly listens in on snippets of conversations when she is in a restaurant, or at the Mall, or wherever people gather and talk to each other loud enough she can hear. And Rainy Day can't help but wonder whatever has happened to our language?

We have become a speech lazy, y'know, nation. We, like, can barely, y'know? get a, like, sentence out without, um, a verbal, ah, pause. Y'know?

Not only has our casual speech degenerated into a chasm so deep as to barely be recognized; Rainy Day finds the same speech reinforced in the movies and tv shows.

A few weeks ago, Rainy Day attended a meeting, where the speaker gave a talk to writers, and wannabe writers, on writing. Rainy Day admits the notes Ms. Author distributed were quite interesting, but, y'know, like at least, y'know, 50% of like, her talk, was filled with, like, y'know. This person has sold novels, and gives talks to the public. Rainy Day truly believes Ms. Author is unaware of her verbal pauses, and subsequent turn-off of potential buyers and readers. Rainy Day is pleased to announce she did not scream, "No! I don't know!" every time Ms. Author used that phrase. Nor did Rainy Day comment that, "No she really did not like...". Rainy Day has a tad more couth than that. Not much, mind, but a tad.

J. A. Jance, Author

And Ms. Author is not alone. Rainy Day knows several writers who, ah, um, can't talk without, ah, um, verbally pausing instead of just pausing. Rainy Day admits to doing it, too, especially if she's around others who use verbal pauses frequently. Rainy Day also admits she tries very hard not to use verbal pauses. Alas, Rainy Day is a natural mimic, y'know?

Hence the title of this essay – Masters of the Toast, or Toastmasters. Rainy Day has belonged to Toastmasters twice in her life, and learned a great deal from the experiences. Not that Rainy Day plans a career of public speaking, but she does now and then read poetry and selected prose in public. And Rainy Day hopes to do more as her books are bought and read.

Toastmasters Clubs are all over the world. One can find a meeting to fit into one's schedule – early morning, lunch hour, or evening. Toastmasters offers a safe place to learn both speaking skills and leadership skills, even if you never do anything in the way of public speaking beyond offering a toast at a family gathering – or participate in a writer's convention. Rainy Day remembers her first Toastmasters group and how many of the members were managers at the large aerospace company where Rainy Day worked. These men and women used Toastmasters to present and polish their upcoming pitches to customers or higher-level managers. Rainy Day learned a lot about her company in that Toastmasters club.

If you are a writer, of either prose and or poetry (would both be 'Prosety?'), Rainy Day thinks Toastmasters is one of the greatest gifts you can give yourself. Unless you want to sound like, y'know, a professional, uh, like, ahhh, ath-a-lete.

Her latest book - Buy it! Read it!

Don't just take Rainy Day's word for it; take the word of professional writers, such as J. A. Jance. She, too, recommends Toastmasters to all newly published or about to be published writers. If you speak well, people will trust that you also write well. If y'know, like your speech is like filled with, ah, verbal pauses and useless words, people will think your writing is, too.

(Note: Rainy Day uses photos and reference to J. A. Jance with J. A. Jance's knowledge and permission.) 

Do you fill your pauses with something verbal? Or do you pause with your mouth closed while you think of what you are going to say? Where did 'like' and 'y'know' come from as verbal pauses? Ummm, what do you think of those, ummmmm, noisy fillers?

Rainy Day and her Convictions

One of Rainy Day's most favoritest movies in the whole wide world, is the 1967 moie, Guess Who's Coming to Dinner? If you're not familiar with the movie, Rainy Day gives it 10 stars out of five, you need to become familiar with it. The story centers around the Drayton family, a white upper middle class liberal, progressive family, and their blonde daughter, Joey, who comes home with her fiancé, Dr. John Prentice (Sidney Poitier) and the soul searching all parties concerned must face. One of the best lines is between the Monsignor (Cecil Kellaway) and Matt Drayton (Spencer Tracy) when the Monsignor laughs and says something to the effect of, "It isn't every day I get to see a man come face to face with his convictions."

And it isn't every day when any one gets to come face to face with his or her convictions, but Rainy Day did, not too long ago.

A Song Bird Singing of Convictions

One of Rainy Day's long held convictions is that those who are sent to prison for a crime should be rehabilitated, and when released, given the benefit of the doubt. She think it works, at least when the prisoner wants it to, and gets some support on the outside. For those of you fortunate enough to live in the Pacific Northwest, a case in point is Dave and his Killer Bread. A four-time loser for drug misuse, he now puts out the bestest bread money can by, Dave's Killer Bread. Click here for his story. Get to the nearest grocery store for the bread. (BTW, Dave gave permission to use this paragraph and the link.;-)

And so, when Rainy Day decided to try one of the online dating sites, and met the most gorgeous hunk of old world manhood, Drago (not his real name), she was swept off her feet. Drago came from the old Yugoslavia as a teenager, but he kept that old world charm, the deep, European voice, and those old world manners. Rainy Day really thought she had met her man. And then, one day, as Drago and Rainy Day talked on the phone, he said a couple of things that didn't sound quite right. Nothing big, nothing serious, but just not 'right.' Rainy Day remembers the incidents he talked about, and she remembered them very differently than Drago did.

That night, Rainy Day couldn't sleep, so she went online and Googled Drago. Several pages came up and they weren't good. Drago had not only done prison time, but he did his time in a Federal Penitentiary for illegally selling guns. Rainy Day ran smack dab into one of her convictions. Owwweeeee!!! Did that ever hurt! (Rainy Day also loves to use exclamation points, can you tell?)

It took a couple of days before she talked to Drago to get his side of the story. Perhaps, she hoped, spending two years in a cell contemplating the error of his ways, was enough. Perhaps, like Dave above, something good came out of that time. Perhaps he was sorry for what he did (5 of the guns he illegally sold ended up being used in the commission of felonies – including the fatal shooting of a police officer. One of the guns ended up in a boy's backpack and taken to Junior High School. No one was hurt.). So, Rainy Day called Drago and held her breath hoping for the right answer. Rainy Day turned very blue.

His only remorse seemed to be that he was caught. He insisted he only exercised his Second Amendment Rights. Rainy Day, having served in the military to defend that Constitution and its Amendments had a different idea. Amendment II to the US Constitution reads: "A well regulated militia, being necessary to the security of a free state, the right of the people to keep and bear arms, shall not be infringed." Nowhere does it say one can buy and sell weapons without proper and legal paper work.

Blooming Where Planted

Drago and Rainy Day talked, and the more they talked, the more proud he seemed for the time he spent in prison, and the sadder Rainy Day became. Had he admitted his wrongdoing, had he shown true remorse, they might be together today; however, Rainy Day, having faced her conviction, had no choice but to say Goodbye. For, one of her convictions is to not become willingly and knowingly involved in illegal activities, or with men who commit them.

In the meantime, Rainy Day assures me, she won't date anyone without checking him on Google. She is now dating a gentleman she'll call George. The 'worst' thing Rainy Day could find about George is he used to run marathons in his younger days;-)

Rainy Day says convictions are good things to have. They help her as she wanders down life's path, but sometimes, they are hard when bumped into.

What are some of your convictions? Have you ever bumped into any?

Rainy Day and Monsters of the Night

Once upon a time, Rainy Day was a little girl. And she loved Halloween. Rainy Day loved Halloween as much, possibly more, than Christmas because she got candy. Lots of candy. And cookies. Lots of cookies. Why, when Rainy Day was 4, and it was summer, and she wanted some candy, and her Mommy said there was no candy, Rainy Day put on her Halloween mask, and went around to all the neighbors and rang their doorbells. When they answered, she said, "Trick or Treat." The neighbors laughed, and gave her candy. Rainy Day thought it might turn into a pretty good racket, but her Mommy was a stick in the mud, and thus ended perpetual Halloween for Rainy Day.

As Rainy Day grew, and collected a coterie of friends, they looked forward to Halloween. Not so much for the candy (though, with Rainy Day's sweet tooth, the candy was definitely an added bonus) but for the fun of dressing up and going around the neighborhood and being sillier than normal. One year, an old man came to the door, very grumpy, and said his wife had just died and he didn't have any candy. He slammed the door in their faces. Now, Rainy Day and her friends were old enough to understand he didn't have time to buy candy, or perhaps even think about it, but young enough that they truly didn't understand his grief.  They left. They walked to the corner of the block, stopped, looked at each other, and laughing with great glee, ran back to the grumpy man's door. They set their bags of loot on the porch, rang his doorbell until they heard him coming, and ran, leaving their loot. Rainy Day has often wondered if he appreciated their gift. It was the only way they could think of to help him in his time of loss.

The first to ring Rainy Day's doorbell

Eventually Rainy Day became a housewife. She spent days before Halloween baking and decorating cookies, and packaging them in bags to hand the scary creatures that dared to ring her doorbell. Rainy Day remembered the fun she had, and delighted in sharing that fun with the children of her neighborhood. Then, people started being mean, putting contaminated treats in the bags of small and innocent monsters, and homemade treats were no longer appreciated, everyone had to buy individually and factory wrapped treats. No more homemade treats. A lot of the joy of Halloween left Rainy Day.

The second to ring the bell

Then, she discovered the little monsters invaded the local Mall, so Rainy Day and her friends grabbed their scary masks, and spent Halloween at the Mall, drinking lattes while watching the little monsters go from store to store to store. That made a lot of sense to Rainy Day – the malls were safe, they were well lit, the kidlets didn't have to dress in extra clothes, or take a chance on their costumes being destroyed by winds or rains. And Mom tagged along carrying all the coats.

And then Rainy Day had children, and the true joy of Halloween returned. Now, Rainy Day stays home on Halloween to keep her animals company, and answer the door to the few children whose parents take them to the neighbors and not to the malls. Every year there seems to be fewer and fewer trick or treaters, and more and more candy left over for Rainy Day to eat before it spoils. Perhaps Rainy Day should save it for summer? In case one of the local kids comes by for a "Trick or Treat."

Leftovers

Have you noticed a decline in the number of kidlets at your door? Do you dress up to answer the door and pass out candy? How do you celebrate Halloween?

And for you who have yet to reach your sugar high, a recipe from Rainy Day's friend, Nonie:

NO CALORIE LEFT BEHIND BUTTERFINGER PIE 

6 Butterfinger candy bars (regular size, or equivalent) (save a bit for the top)

12 oz container Cool Whip

1 graham cracker pie crust

Crush candy bars. Add to Cool Whip. Dump into crust. Freeze. Option: Add 1/2cup softened peanut butter to about 1 cup cool whip before mixing in candy. Spread on crust, drizzle with ice cream caramel sauce, THEN add the cool whip and candy mixture.