"Another Saturday Night and..."

     My sister informed me that people with osteoporosis are better off to carry a little extra weight.  (Having been recently diagnosed, I'm guessing that having regained ten of the nine pounds I lost last year is a good thing.)  I subsequently rushed her off the phone so I could make another batch of rice pudding.  I had to run to the store to buy milk. (I didn't really run-couldn't if I wanted to, and I don't want to, although I wouldn't mind being able to), and also picked up a few myriad items while I was there.  I had a hankering for some lunch meat, and purchased a quarter pound each of three different types.  Then I realized with dismay that I had morphed into one of those annoying seniors who holds up the line by doing just that-ordering a quarter pound each of seventeen different meats and cheeses.  I was happy there were no young people waiting behind me, rolling their eyes and sighing with annoyance, as I used to do. That was not likely to happen on a Saturday night, however. (Sadly, this was one of my more exciting Saturdays!)  Next I went to purchase my favorite salad dressing, but I stopped cold when I saw the price: $4.49 for one bottle!  Needless to say that bottle is collecting dust on that same shelf, as I purchased a bargain brand for only $1.49, sacrificing taste for the three dollars that would remain in my wallet!  Then I trotted off to the pet section and bought a rawhide bone for Buddy @ $5.49. Hmmm....

     My BFF came over for a visit , and I turned her on to my new favorite show: Downton Abbey.  She liked the show, but wasn't real crazy about the accents.  Did I mention that she's English?

     In French class the other evening, two young men behind me wouldn't stop talking.  My professor, a petite, soft spoken woman,  was very diplomatic, and asked if they had a question.  (They didn't.)  I was so tempted to turn around and shout "fermez la bouche" (shut your mouth), a phrase I never forgot from high school French.  I exercised self restraint and merely requested, no, suggested, with blatant disdain, that they keep it down.  They were behaving like grammar school boys! Ugh!  Je ne suis pas patiente...I have no patience...

    Much to my annoyance, on another occasion, the professor was providing instructions on capitalization, and also the importance of punctuation, a necessity in any language.  I sat there in abject incredulity that such instructions would be delivered in a college classroom.  Later, when one of my fellow students referred to a period as a dot (confusing sentences with web addresses) I realized that the instructions were absolutely necessary.  (There are many in the corporate world who would benefit from her instructions as well.)  Have you ever tried to understand multiple sentences all running together without so much as a "dot" (being facetious) or a comma?  I am at my wits' end with it all.  How do you say "What The Fudge" in French?   

 

"Small Animals, Harsh Winters"

     My Dad was a wonderful man, rich in patience, love, and compassion.  It is from my Dad that I inherited my love and compassion for animals.  I remember as a child that the winters were very harsh.  During those times that the ground was encased in frozen snow, my Dad was concerned for the small animals that had no means of obtaining anything to eat through the earth's crusty white blanket that stretched as far as the eye could see.  I remember him placing bits of bread in our yard, and then peeking with me through a curtained window to wait until the hungry birds and squirrels would appear and feast on the tasty morsels.  Together we would marvel at the famished animals as they hurriedly devoured their much needed meal.  To this day I think of my Dad on days like this.  I wonder did he have any idea of the impact his actions had on his small daughter, who grew into a woman who carries on his tradition still, after fifty plus years.  I  watch the animals joyfully as they scurry back and forth from their nests in a frenzy to have their hunger sated by the varied bits of food that I leave outside for them, while I imagine my Dad beside me, a tender smile on his face.  I have tears in my eyes as I write this, remembering my gentle Dad, and wishing he were still here with me.  I hope that I have managed to make him proud, as I am proud of him.

"Spring 2014"

     It took me weeks to make a decision regarding the Spring 2014 semester.  I procrastinated so long that by the time I went to register, the classes I was interested in were closed.  I had pretty much decided that I would ride this semester out, as my job and commute are both demanding, and I am pretty spent at the end of the day.  Then I went to see 20-something son, who is getting his Master's degree this spring.  He is supportive regardless of which choices I make, but after admitting to him that I had yet to register, I knew I immediately what I had to do.  

     Attending college is difficult, not only for the reasons I mentioned above, but also because of my age.  Sometimes I feel like a foolish old woman futilely chasing the past.  On the other hand,  I am moving forward and growing in spite of aging. I have a purpose in my life.  I am optimistic about the future.  Additionally, I want to continue to set a good example for my sons.  Was I intimidated by the thought of the upcoming semester?  You bet.   However, not meeting this challenge in front of my sons is not an option.  So after some serious scrambling and calculating,  I managed to register for my language course, although I did miss one class.  I actually feel a measure of relief having come to this decision.  At my age, I don't have the luxury of time to be skipping semesters.  But more importantly,  my sons can see me forging ahead.  They are adults, yes, but I still derive a great deal of satisfaction from being a positive influence in their lives, not to mention the self satisfaction I have when I not only pass, but excel in my classes.  Two years ago, I had 12 credits and a 2.9.GPA.  Currently, I have 33 credits and a 3.9 GPA.  I still feel somewhat foolish talking about my grades, though my sense of accomplishment outweighs those negative feelings.  

     I ran into a friend of mine last evening, an older lady.  She was beaming as she related to her friend that I had gone back to college. I cherish that moment. The support of my family and friends means an awful lot to me.  My heartfelt thanks to all who have offered support and encouragement.  Love ya!