Top O' The Mornin' To Ye!

I’m wearing green today in celebration of St. Patrick’s Day. Sort of. I mean, green is just not in my color palette. I have one top that is green-ish and I’ve worn it a couple years for St. Paddy’s Day, but it’s really teetering right on the edge between blue and green. 

Instead, this morning I opted for a “celery” green jacket, which truthfully also barely qualifies as green. I did, however, accessorize with a true green glass necklace and earrings set that friends brought back from their recent cruise. 

So I think I’m safe from pinching. 

 Maybe I should go out and buy one Kelly green top so I don’t have to go through this angst every St. Paddy’s Day. Either that or I could pick up one of those “Kiss Me, I’m Irish!” pins and be done with it. 

 Ah well. It’s the Irish spirit that counts – right? 

I do have Irish blood in me, and I’ve been to Ireland, which is a truly lovely (and very green) country, so those should also count in my favor. 

I really don’t know why I’m so concerned with wearing green today, because Vince and I don’t even have specific plans this evening. No pub crawls or green beer imbibing plans are in the works. Perhaps we could go to Kroger and pick up some Guinness and a hunk o’ corned beef and make do with Reuben sandwiches and a beer and call it a night? 

Yeah, that could work. We wouldn’t even have to designate a driver, unless one of us has trouble maneuvering the stairs at the end of the evening. (Yeah, well, the solution to that would be the couch.)

My mom’s side of the family is all Irish, all the time. Many years ago my grandmother was visiting and somehow we started talking about marriage, of all things. As I recall, I was in college and not even dating anyone let alone considering marriage, but that didn’t stop Nanna. 

She told me I needed to find a nice Irish Catholic boy and marry him and have lots of babies. Oops. Vince is neither Irish nor Catholic. And, as it took a long time to make a decision, the “lots of babies” thing ain’t happenin’ either. Sorry, Nanna! 

But I think she would have been happy with my choice and she would’ve loved Vince. She probably would’ve even done the cheek pinching thing, which is apparently a prerequisite for anyone applying to be a tiny white-haired Irish grandmother. 

My Uncle Joe (who was really a cousin, but he was older than my parents, so we weren’t allowed to call him just “Joe”), well, anyway, Uncle Joe used to tell lots of stories about his Irish heritage. And whenever he’d want to curse, but really didn’t want to, he’d say, “Jesus, Mary and Joseph!” So that didn’t count as cursing. But you’d hear the word “Jesus...” coming out of his mouth and you’d think, Uh oh… but then he’d add the “…Mary and Joseph” and you’d think, Whew! 

I smile whenever I think of Nanna and Uncle Joe – and all my relatives who are no longer with us. I miss them, but I’d like to think they’re all together up in Heaven having a big ol’ party today in honor of St. Patrick. Wonder if they have green beer in Heaven? No matter. Whatever you do and however you celebrate, I hope it is with people you care about and who care about you. Be safe. 

And I’ll leave you with an old Irish Blessing: 

May love and laughter light your days, 

And warm your heart and home. 

May good and faithful friends be yours, 

Wherever you may roam. 

May peace and plenty bless your world 

With joy that long endures. 

May all life’s passing seasons 

Bring the best to you and yours!

Spring is in the Air. Today, Anyway. (And I’m Happy ‘Bout That!)

It has been warm and somewhat sunny here in Columbus, Ohio the past several days. The snow and ice are all gone – for now, anyway. The weather here is rather unpredictable and we can’t rule out another snowstorm before we’re done with winter for the year.

 

Of course, this makes early morning dog walking a conundrum. Before I’m even fully awake, I have to blearily consult my weather app to determine what coat to don.

 

If it’s too thick and heavy I’ll be wiping sweat out of my eyes throughout our entire walk. (And I only have enough hands to hold the dog leash and her poo bag. Just what am I to use to remove the perspiration?)

 

Imagine how tough it is when rain is added to the mix and I have to try carrying an umbrella? Yikes! 

Heyyy…maybe I should get one of those umbrella beanies? Or…maybe not. Those things look a little too dorky even for me. Perhaps I’ll just get soggy.

 

On the other hand, if I’m wearing too light a coat, and it hasn’t warmed up above freezing, I’m shaking and jiving throughout the entire walk. Plus, I pretty much drag Maggie through her walking routine rather than the other way around.

 

As the day progresses, it gets a little easier to figure out what to wear.

 

Yesterday was one of those days.

 

It was sunny and warm and I was – for once – willing to take Maggie on an extra long walk.

 

She was happy. And I was happy.

 

Interestingly, I talked to more neighbors during this one walk than I had all winter.

 

I swear, if I had known that no less than four neighbors were going to buzz down their car windows to chat with me and another three were going to stop me as I passed by their driveways, I would’ve paid a little more attention to hair and makeup.

 

As it was, I hadn’t even washed my face or run a brush through my hair.

 

Fortunately, nobody really cared what my hair looked like or that I hadn’t applied blush or lipstick. Which is a good thing because I find that I'm not fussing with that sort of thing all that much anymore.

 

But what I noticed was that my mood lightened considerably on this walk. I was getting some exercise without shivering in the cold or thinking about the wind chill factor. It was nice to see my neighbors again.

 

And the sunshine was completely welcomed as I soaked up a little Vitamin D.

 

Even Maggie was relatively well-behaved and didn’t bark ferociously at the lady who walks her three tiny dogs in a baby carriage. Instead, the dogs in the carriage were yipping ferociously at us. Points for Maggie for being the better-behaved dog. (And she doesn’t often earn those “Good Dog!” points.)

 

Later when I was at the grocery store, my mood was still light and happy – and I treated myself to some spring-y posies to keep that good feeling going.

 

I can’t wait for spring! How ‘bout you?

 

I, Too, Will Miss You, Michael Stanley

Over the weekend as I was scrolling through Facebook, I saw the sad news that Michael Stanley Gee had passed away on Saturday from lung cancer.

 

That’s a name that may be unfamiliar to many people outside the Midwest. Heck, I’m not sure I would have even known for sure who it was – unless I took off the last name.

 

And then I’d know in an instant. The news made me sad.

 

Michael Stanley was a Cleveland icon.  And, while I didn’t technically grow up in Cleveland, Alliance was in northeast Ohio. Close enough.

 

I fell in love with the Michael Stanley Band when I was a freshman at Ohio State and was introduced to the album, Stagepass.

 

Well, okay, so the album cover intimidated the heck out of me. Even at eighteen, I couldn’t have looked like that on my best day. But, anyway…

 

When the very first notes of the song, “Midwest Midnight” began, I was hooked. I listened to that album over and over again. And many of the band’s subsequent albums.

 

I actually owned the albums, folks. Yep, I’m that old.

 

Albums eventually gave way to cassettes, which meant I could listen and sing along in my car. And then I even bought a few of the band’s CDs.

 

Now, I just have MSB songs arranged on a playlist on my phone.

 

I didn’t go to any Michael Stanley concerts. I was never really a live show concert-goer. Guess I’m not a big fan of crowds. Either that – or I don’t like having to figure out how to deal with traffic, parking and finding my seat in a big stadium.

 

I’d venture to say it was more of the latter. Even now when forced to go to some sort of event at a big venue, I am the follower. And once I finally arrive at my assigned seat, I stay there until it’s time to leave lest I get lost on the way back from the restroom.

 

Wonder if GPS works in those situations? (But I digress.)

 

I’m on a “Michael Stanley Band Fans” group on Facebook – and I have seen a plethora of tributes to him. He truly was an icon in Cleveland. After the MSB days, he formed new bands and new groups. He was on radio. He was on television. And he entertained new generations of fans.

 

But was struck me was how humble and kind he was to his fans, always.

 

I will never be able to drive at night around 270 and not sing out loud (if I’m alone) or in my head (if I’m in the car with someone) the line, “Thank God for the man who put the white lines on the highway” from the song “Lover” off the Heartland album.

 

So for the past couple days I’ve been playing his songs in my AirPods whenever I walk Maggie. I remember about 99.9% of the lyrics. And there are some great lyrics.

 

Whenever it has been dark while I’m walking her, I’ve been lip-syncing to songs like, “Midwest Midnight.” I lip-sync because I really don’t want my neighbors grimacing in my direction, avoiding eye contact and crossing to the other side of the street whenever they see me.

 

This, just so you know, would probably be because of my bad singing and not the fact that I’m belting out Michael Stanley tunes while walking my dog.

 

But anyway.

 

With Michael’s passing, it’s evidence that yet another big part of my youth is now gone.

 

And as his family and friends mourn his loss on a more personal level, his many fans also mourn. And I am but one.

 

Rest in peace, Michael Stanley. You were one of the good ones.

Part II of Another Edition of This ‘n’ That

Another thing that happened in Jane’s Domain in the past week is that Vince and I got our first COVID immunization.

 

Apparently, some people didn’t show up for their shot and the pharmacy didn’t want them to go to waste. So we beat feet and made it in time to snag the last couple they had available on Tuesday.

 

We’re grateful – especially since I know some people have had a difficult time getting an appointment.

 

I had my injection in my left arm since I’m right handed and Vince had his in his right arm since he’s left handed.

 

We thought that was a smart move…until we realized that my left arm is the one I fell on recently when I slipped on the ice. And Vince? Well, he has been having some trouble with his shoulder. Yes, his right shoulder.

 

Guess you could say we’re a hot mess over here!

 

The first night was fine other than some pain we both experienced at the injection site. We’d heard that would probably happen, so we expected it. And, truthfully, when I saw Vince get his shot I wasn’t surprised. Man, that needle seemed to go in deep!

 

Oh, and maybe it didn’t help when I rolled over in my sleep and whacked Vince smack dab in the upper arm. When he yelped, I woke up and apologized all over myself. Oops!

 

In the morning he was still complaining about the pain, so I must have really gotten him good.

 

Later that second day, though, I was the one who was doing the complaining. OMG. I had chills, I had a low grade fever. And I felt awful.

 

So I covered up in a bajillion blankets and tried to sleep for a bit.

 

The next day I still had muscle and joint pain and a major headache. Frankly, I felt like I did when I had COVID in December.

 

But by Friday, I was fine.  

 

Vince didn’t have as bad a reaction as I did, although he did feel a bit badly the second day. But by Friday, he was fine, too.

 

The nurse who gave us the immunization had told us that people who had COVID within a few months of getting the immunization had more incidents of this sort of reaction after the first shot.

 

So we did. But we’re doing well now.

 

And hopefully as more people get immunized, we’ll start to see our world returning to normal. (Whatever that is.)  I mean, I’d seriously love to ditch the face mask one of these years!

 

Another Edition of This ‘n’ That

It has been an interesting couple of weeks in Jane’s Domain. It all started with me slipping and falling on the ice while walking Maggie Minx one morning.

 

It was a balmy 39 degrees outside and much of the snow and ice had melted the previous day, but there were still patches of ice on the sidewalk.  And despite my careful sidestepping, I still managed to find that one small patch that sent me sprawling on the ground.

 

Immediately I did the furtive look-see to see who might’ve seen me take the tumble. Once I determined that there were no obvious observers (although who knows who was looking out their kitchen window at that precise moment), I began an inventory of my bones. Nothing seemed to be out of whack and no bones were protruding where they shouldn’t be, so I started the comical process of getting back up on my feet.

 

It was only then that I realized that I still had a hold of Maggie’s leash, which is a major accomplishment. Because if I had let go, Maggie would have taken off for points unknown with her leash bouncing merrily along behind her. 

 

But the fact that I hadn’t let go of Maggie’s leash wasn’t the biggest accomplishment that morning. No, what was even more impressive was that I still had a firm hold of her previously collected doggie poo bag.

 

Wow. Extra points for that little victory.

 

Because let me just say that if that bag had gone flying and anything inside it had come anywhere remotely near me, you would not be reading this right now. It would have been too disgusting for words and I would probably still be in the shower two weeks later.

 

So other than a sore left hand and arm, nothing was bruised or sprained or broken – and I felt exceedingly grateful. And I credit my heavy parka-like winter coat that evidently cushioned my fall.

 

By the way, I was not wearing my winter boots with the little spikes on them because – again – it had been above freezing and I figured I would be okay in just regular ol’ snow boots.

 

Still livin’ and learnin’, I guess.

 

The next morning, then, I donned the spikes – and felt completely silly as there was barely any snow left on the ground, let alone ice.  (Insert favorite idiom here…I’ll start: A day late and a dollar short...)

 

A few days later, then, I sat down at my trusty computer and penned the wittiest, most perfect blog ever. But did I post it? No. I thought I would wait until the next day so that I could add a photo or two and make any final edits.

 

Big mistake.

 

Yeah, sure it's autosaving...

Because when I sat down at my trusty computer the next day, the wittiest, most perfect blog ever was GONE. Not saved, even though I thought my autosave was autosaving my pithy writings every 2.3 seconds.

 

Not so much.

 

I was so traumatized, I can’t even remember what I wrote about and I couldn’t sit in front of my computer again for several harrowing days thereafter. Because I have never been able to recreate a blog – the words just don’t flow and I’m never satisfied with the second attempt.

 

(And I guess you’ll just have to trust me that it was the wittiest, most perfect blog ever!)

 

Hunh. Evidently my trusty computer is not so trusty, eh?!

 

Turns out that our yearly Microsoft 365 subscription had ended and my computer was no longer saving things. My computer was even sending out little death threats and ransom notes unless we ponied up the $99 for an update.

 

This is how little I know about computers. If I sit down at one and it doesn’t work, I have no clue what to do to fix it. Oh sure, I can turn it off and then back on, but that’s about the extent of my technical abilities.

 

Now here’s the worst part. Vince had already updated the subscription with the third and final key card that we had purchased when we bought his computer and, since it was for a family subscription, it should easily have covered my computer as well. Only when I asked Vince to make sure I was included in his “family” – and he did – his computer was not showing that he had updated the subscription.

 

Huh?

 

Yeah, that was my response, too.

 

We tried poking around on his computer. And on my computer. We tried reading the prompts offered by Microsoft. And we tried calling, but couldn’t get through to a real-life human. We even bothered our sister-in-law, who seems to be able to figure that sort of thing out, but she couldn’t make any headway either.

 

Points to Vince for his perseverance, because he finally reached someone at Microsoft (a guy in the Philippines who had live chickens squawking in the background), but he was extremely helpful and figured out the problem. Turns out that Vince has way too many email accounts and had used the wrong one.

 

Now my autosave is back on merrily autosaving every 2.3 seconds. I just need to make a note next year to renew our subscription before the ransom notes start appearing. Because I don’t think I could take another experience of sitting down to a blank page where hours before had been the most amazingly perfect blog ever.

 

Trust me.