Now there are five.

      My oldest aunt lived at Baalaton, MN. She'd accompanied her father, my grandfather, there to teach Vacation Bible School. She met and married a local farmer. Some where around 1910 she died of uremic poisoning after childbirth, her son and my first born cousin, Clifford, drown in a water tank when he was 3. His father died in the flu epidemic. Thus ended that family.

    This is story of my surviving cousins who made it to adulthood, grandchildren of my grandparents. Last week there six surviving cousins. Yesterday my oldest one, surviving at age 93, died from injuries suffered in a car accident. Alvin, five years older than I, was always my hero. Living twelve miles apart we had regular contact growing up. Saturday, I will attend his funeral in Aurora, IL.

   Grandpa and Grandma had nineteen grandchildren after the late Clifford. The gender breakdown is interesting. There were five boys, which included my two brothers and I, thus only two male cousins. There were 14 female cousins. Of all these grandchildren. I was second to the youngest and the youngest died several years ago. Giving some balance to this equation was my oldest cousin, Cecilia, who had four sons, one a year older than I, one my age and two younger.

  Now, surviving in age sequence: one is 92, another 91, the third 89, then 88, and 87. None have had birthdays this year. Interesting demographics.  Add those ages up and what do you get? I'm not allowed to do the math. 😀 

Takk for alt,

Al

Uffda...

     One of the challenges of retirement life is tracking the days of the week. When I was first retired I volunteered regularly at Hmong Academy for ten plus years. It was very enjoyable, satisfying with a side bonus. It kept me oriented to the day of the week.

   That volunteering gig ended with COVID. Now it would be challenging with my hearing problems but probably could be done with the aid of my hearing aid's remote mic. However, I now reside in St. Paul and the Academy is in the NW suburb  of Brooklyn Park. That's way to far to drive across Minneapolis.

  This subject comes up because tonight I spaced an event I intended to attend. In fact I even have a ticket for it. This leaves me feeling disappointed. My memory is a point of pride with me, with the exception of names which I usually remember...at 2:00 am.😉 

Takk for alt,

Al

I'm pictured with students from Noble Academy.

Shades of Thailand!

     Sitting outside at a local restaurant a bit ago, temperature 85, dew point 72, brought back my time in Thailand. Though I went in winter the weather there was very similar to what we're experiencing. Temperatures would run in the upper 80s to lower 90s daytime. At night 80 was typical. Dew points often in the 70s. This was without a/c, though I did have a fan at night. (Now it's 6:30 am in Ayutthaya and the temperature is 77 and the dew point 76.) Knowing that Minnesota temperatures were in the single digits to minus improved my attitude about the heat and humidity.  At school the students would play soccer and do other vigorous activities, e.g., jump rope, impervious to the heat. Of course this was their cool season.

   Were it not for the accident of birth I should live in a warmer climate. One positive, there are no scorpions here. At Camp Pendleton when we were in the field we'd shake our boots in the morning to be certain a scorpion hadn't moved in.

Takk for alt,

Al

Thai fourth graders, the girl in the middle is twin of the one on her right.

Power Shopping!

     In the market for a new blazer the plan was to go to a fancy men's store. The reason for that choice was there'd be measurements for a good fit. A store was identified in a suburb across town. Arriving revealed that the store was gone and it was being retrofitted for a fast food enterprise. So much for that plan.

   Checking my trusty smart phone I located a J C Penney store nearby. So I drove to it guided by GPS. Walking to the back corner of the store where men's wear is kept, no employee was in sight. Realizing that it was going to be totally self serve, I spotted a rack of blazers. After putting one on I walked to the checkout by the front door, paid for the blazer and my time in the store was no more than fifteen minutes. That was within my patience quotient. Who needs a fancy men's store? That's what passes for excitement  in my life.

Takk for alt,

Al

PS Neighbor to The Little House reports 1" in my rain gauge! 

PPS The blazer fits well.

OFH has a 4:30 dinner seating, giggle...

 

"Things happen!"

      In certain situations I've found having a mantra is helpful. Living with a Thai family for 10? years there was a mantra I often employed. Papa spoke no English, Mama had a smattering and daughter was quite conversant. Frequently outings for the whole family, plus I, were planned. Seldom did I have a clue to the nature of an outing until he was fait a comply. Before, during, until the plan became clear, my mantra was "All will be revealed." It was sweet to have interesting experiences for which I had no responsibility. Usually a Buddhist temple would be part of the plan. No two temples are alike which added interest. At one a monk engaged me in discussion of American politics. (Parenthetically, anyplace in Thailand if a local is asked to escort one to a place of interest that local will conduct the inquirer to the temple.) 

    Visiting E & MJ, in Iowa, they employ the same mysterious approach, even though we're all conversant in English. It gives opportunity to once again use the mantra "All will be revealed."  Which leads to another mantra which I used today.

   Yesterday I purchased tires at Costco. The salesman said they could be installed at 1:45 today, even writing the hour on the sales agreement. When I presented myself today at 1:45, a different salesmen said "I see where your tires were purchased but there's no record of an appointment and we're booked up until 4:00." Where upon I threw a major tantrum...not. He was very apologetic. I said "Not your fault." Then I used a mantra that I find very helpful in moments like this. I said, "Things happen!" and, said further, "I'll return at 4:00."

   Then I did what any self respecting octogenarian would do, I went home and had a nap. As of this writing there are 4 new tires on my car. 

Takk for alt,

Al

A friend shared this...

 In Ireland, around 1880, the harvest wasn’t doing so well. 

To appease his tenant farmers, Lord Erne offered a 10% rent reduction. They countered with a request for 25%. He rejected their proposal and told his land agent, Captain Charles Boycott, to start evicting them.

That should have ended the story. Instead, it started one.

Irish nationalist Charles Stewart Parnell, a local leader at the time, made a simple proposal to the farmers: don’t attack Boycott. Don’t threaten him. Simply pretend he doesn’t exist.

Don’t work for him.
Don’t sell to him.
Don’t buy from him.
Don’t even acknowledge him.

The village happily obliged.

His laborers quit.
His servants disappeared.
Shopkeepers turned him away.
Even the postman refused to deliver his mail.

Within weeks, one man became socially radioactive.

The story spread around the world. The Irish Land Reform movement found new momentum. And Captain Charles Boycott achieved something few people ever do: his name became a verb.