today my dad turns 102. he was born in 1916, and here's a google link to what i found out about that. i have the upmost respect and love for this man. and when i wonder about "god" i can say that what i see in him is a light that i will equate with a god.
a list is not adequate, but it's all i have.
1. he had me when he was as old as i am now. he'd already had nine children. i will allow myself to imagine that only for a short time because it sometimes brings me to tears. i am an "older parent" and our youngest is nine. (that almost brings me to tears.) parenting is hard and having an infant right now, for me, would be really hard. i admire the heck out of him for parenting me like he did.
2. there are so many great stories when you have been on this earth 102 years. here's one: my husband and i had recently moved close to my parents and we went over to their house. hubby who is an expensive bike enthusiast had a really expensive bike. because we were living in an apartment without a garage, hubby asked dad to keep his bike in dad's garage. dad hung it up and hubby, looking at the hook dad had hung it on, asked dad, "jesse, is that hook gonna hold my bike?" and dad said, "well, if it doesn't, your bike will fall." classic dad. pragmatic. funny.
3. dad walked almost every single day of his retired life. for exercise. and he made a habit of collecting cans (which he traded in for "beer money") and picking up trash while walking. i could honestly go on and on about this. but i think the most incredible part about this to me now is that he stopped and picked up trash. all of it. because he did not like litter. i used to be mildly embarrassed by this as a teen. but now, i cannot stand litter. i try to pick it up in my neighborhood every morning. i hope if dad knew this, he would be proud of me.
4. dad had an amazing green thumb. he could grow anything. my mom, when she was alive, used to try to get my dad to like use mulch or water more and dad would just say, "why? it's growing isn't it?" i use mulch and water and everything i plant dies. i did not inherit his green thumb.
5. my early memories of my dad are of him coloring with me. and sitting by his feet while he read the newspaper every night. another memory is that he weekly (?) would bring a vending machine snack home for me and my sister. this was a rare treat for us. my mom had these silver measuring cups and my sister would carefully divide the candy evenly into two cups.
6. words i would use to describe my dad are: humble, gentle, patient, kind, simple, wise, loving, content, and generous.
7. my dad crossed the border when he was nine. there are so many more details about this that i have learned and forgotten. i hope to see my last living aunt on my dad's side this summer and refresh the details of this because i would like to be able to repeat this story accurately. some details about dad i do know are that my dad knew no english when he crossed the border, he worked in the fields picking fruit, he served in WWII, he was injured in the Battle of the Bulge, he earned a purple heart, and he earned his high school diploma when I was about 12.
there was a period of time a few years ago when i helped to provide care-taking for my dad. he still had most of his memory and there were days i would go to his house frazzled and stressed out for one reason or another. being with him always calmed me down. he has a way of just making you feel peaceful and purposeful. for me, seeing dad daily like that was a great time in my life.
when i think about the amazing legacy my dad has, it's pretty cool. this morning on my run i thought of all my siblings and their kids. and their kids. i thought about all the states we live in, the professions we have, the lives we've touched. without dad, none of that would have been possible. i thought about all the amazing things i've learned from my dad - way too many for one blog post or even one book. it's pretty sappy, but it made me feel pretty good at a time when i've been feeling pretty crappy. even when he doesn't know it and he's not physically with me, he still has the ability to cheer me up.
my dad is in an amazing memory care home now where they take incredible care of him. his memory fades in and out. on good days he knows me. on not so good days i'd like to think he knows i love him.
today we will celebrate him and the great life he's had and i hope that he knows how special he is.
Showing posts with label memory. Show all posts
Showing posts with label memory. Show all posts
Wednesday, June 20, 2018
Thursday, July 12, 2012
I don't know much, but I do know the Chupacabra (and he's not the largest rodent in the world).
I will be the first to admit I am not smarter than a fifth grader. Hell, I am not even smarter than my pre-schooler some days. Half of this inability to compute can be blamed on my ever shrinking memory. (Who are you? Why are you reading my blog?) The other half can be blamed on the fact that I really suck at all kinds of trivia, science, history, politics, and paparazzi. And the other half can be blamed on the fact that I confuse things in my head on a regular basis. (Was Neil Armstrong the first man on the moon, or a famous jazz musician? Is a doppelganger something evil representing misfortune or is it a show about a harried detective that I like to watch on PBS? Do I respect philanthropists or philanderers?)
When you have four kids who ask you everything under the freakin' sun all day long, and who during the summer are home 24/7 this can be a little problematic.
During the last six weeks here is an incomplete list of things I have been asked and that I have attempted (feebly) to explain (know that my kids now *might* be misguided):
Luckily my husband can explain most things (and if he can't, he just makes fairly believable sh*t up). So, my usual answer goes something like this, "Photosynthesis is when some rare gases mix with the sun's rays and form tequila. We use the tequila to make a common drink called a margarita. There are many recipes for them and we usually put salt on the rim of the glass. I think. But, I am sure dad knows more, so when he gets home let's ask him. And then mom will drink a margarita." Or sometimes I just say, "That sounds like a great question for Google. Go look it up and prepare a five page report on what you find."
Here's a short list of things I do not/did not know (just pulled randomly from this past month) mainly because I did not remember the facts as they were presented to me or I just plain don't know/don't care:
Many of these have to do with whether or not people are dead or alive and if they are dead, how they died. You can analyze that at your leisure and decide whether or not I am obsessed and have a problem. Or, I can save you the analysis and tell you: Yes, I am. I have many problems.
1. I did not know Flo-Jo was dead.
2. I did not know Anne Frank died in the end (prematurely, I should say since we all die in the end).
3. I did not know who Arlo Guthrie was. Although, the 100th anniversary of Woody Guthrie's death has been commemorated on par with the death of Ronald Reagan (whose funeral might still be in progress).
4. I am not sure what the largest sea animal is.
5. I do not know which is bigger: an elephant or a whale.
6. I do not know the tallest mountain in the world.
7. I am not sure why there are magnets.
8. I do not know how many Disney princesses there are.
All of this is to give you an idea of my frame of mind a few weeks ago when hubby brought home this:
For some reason, Girl 1 was distrustful of the facts as they appeared on the box and felt the need to pose questions to all of us every morning.
(This was a joy to me as I have already explained to you how I excel at these things.) And, did I mention my Keurig is broken???
Here's how pre-coffee breakfast conversations have gone:
Girl 1: Mom, is the saguaro really the tallest cactus in America?
Me: I don't know. I think so.
Girl 1: Mom, is the White Sturgeon really the largest freshwater fish?
Me: Hmm. I'm not sure. Is a whale a fish?
Girl 1: Mom, is Mount Washington really the Windiest Place?
Me: That's a good question. How would they even know what the windiest place was? What do they use to measure it? Their licked fingers???
I was a little irritated that after making such painstaking attempts to be accurate in my answers, it wasn't until a few days into this game that Girl 1 told me these "Superlatives" were limited to America. After I found that out, I would just respond with, "Oh, I'm not sure what this is in America. I know how it is in the whole world, but to know about just America, you'll have to Google it."
(I am sure this made me appear much smarter to my kids.)
Finally, Girl 1 asked a question I knew a lot about.
She said, "Mom, I FOUND A MISTAKE ON THIS BOX! I KNOW the largest rodent is NOT the American Beaver!"
I said, "You are absolutely right. It's not."
Because, this is trivia I actually know! I hate rodents more than I hate raccoons and so naturally I know that the capybara is the largest rodent in the world. (Forget the fact that I knew the box would have listed the largest rodent in America. Which probably is, in fact, the American beaver.) There is even a capybara at our local zoo that we visit frequently, so I have seen one in person.
I waited for Girl 1 to give me the right answer and she loudly proclaimed,
"A CHUPACABRA is the largest rodent!"
Before I could laugh hysterically, or astound her with the fact that I knew the right answer she said,
"Wait. That's not right. A CAPYBARA IS THE LARGEST RODENT IN THE WORLD!"
I am deeply disturbed that at age nine, Girl 1 seems to be following directly in my footsteps.
When you have four kids who ask you everything under the freakin' sun all day long, and who during the summer are home 24/7 this can be a little problematic.
During the last six weeks here is an incomplete list of things I have been asked and that I have attempted (feebly) to explain (know that my kids now *might* be misguided):
- What color is blood before it squirts out of your body?
- What makes something radioactive?
- What does "being paroled" mean?
- What happens after the policeman arrests you for speeding?
- Why are there magnets?
- What's photosynthesis?
- What's the tallest mountain in the world?
- Why are no two fingerprints alike?
- Who invented money? Why can't we just make more at our house?
- Is Cinderella the one with the wicked step mother or is it Snow White?
- What is Pixar from Disney Pixar? What does it mean?
- Which presidents are still alive?
- Are there four Ice Age movies or three?
- Is there more than one "f" word?
- What's puberty?
Luckily my husband can explain most things (and if he can't, he just makes fairly believable sh*t up). So, my usual answer goes something like this, "Photosynthesis is when some rare gases mix with the sun's rays and form tequila. We use the tequila to make a common drink called a margarita. There are many recipes for them and we usually put salt on the rim of the glass. I think. But, I am sure dad knows more, so when he gets home let's ask him. And then mom will drink a margarita." Or sometimes I just say, "That sounds like a great question for Google. Go look it up and prepare a five page report on what you find."
Here's a short list of things I do not/did not know (just pulled randomly from this past month) mainly because I did not remember the facts as they were presented to me or I just plain don't know/don't care:
Many of these have to do with whether or not people are dead or alive and if they are dead, how they died. You can analyze that at your leisure and decide whether or not I am obsessed and have a problem. Or, I can save you the analysis and tell you: Yes, I am. I have many problems.
1. I did not know Flo-Jo was dead.
2. I did not know Anne Frank died in the end (prematurely, I should say since we all die in the end).
3. I did not know who Arlo Guthrie was. Although, the 100th anniversary of Woody Guthrie's death has been commemorated on par with the death of Ronald Reagan (whose funeral might still be in progress).
4. I am not sure what the largest sea animal is.
5. I do not know which is bigger: an elephant or a whale.
6. I do not know the tallest mountain in the world.
7. I am not sure why there are magnets.
8. I do not know how many Disney princesses there are.
All of this is to give you an idea of my frame of mind a few weeks ago when hubby brought home this:
For some reason, Girl 1 was distrustful of the facts as they appeared on the box and felt the need to pose questions to all of us every morning.
(This was a joy to me as I have already explained to you how I excel at these things.) And, did I mention my Keurig is broken???
Here's how pre-coffee breakfast conversations have gone:
Girl 1: Mom, is the saguaro really the tallest cactus in America?
Me: I don't know. I think so.
Girl 1: Mom, is the White Sturgeon really the largest freshwater fish?
Me: Hmm. I'm not sure. Is a whale a fish?
Girl 1: Mom, is Mount Washington really the Windiest Place?
Me: That's a good question. How would they even know what the windiest place was? What do they use to measure it? Their licked fingers???
I was a little irritated that after making such painstaking attempts to be accurate in my answers, it wasn't until a few days into this game that Girl 1 told me these "Superlatives" were limited to America. After I found that out, I would just respond with, "Oh, I'm not sure what this is in America. I know how it is in the whole world, but to know about just America, you'll have to Google it."
(I am sure this made me appear much smarter to my kids.)
Finally, Girl 1 asked a question I knew a lot about.
She said, "Mom, I FOUND A MISTAKE ON THIS BOX! I KNOW the largest rodent is NOT the American Beaver!"
I said, "You are absolutely right. It's not."
Because, this is trivia I actually know! I hate rodents more than I hate raccoons and so naturally I know that the capybara is the largest rodent in the world. (Forget the fact that I knew the box would have listed the largest rodent in America. Which probably is, in fact, the American beaver.) There is even a capybara at our local zoo that we visit frequently, so I have seen one in person.
I waited for Girl 1 to give me the right answer and she loudly proclaimed,
"A CHUPACABRA is the largest rodent!"
Before I could laugh hysterically, or astound her with the fact that I knew the right answer she said,
"Wait. That's not right. A CAPYBARA IS THE LARGEST RODENT IN THE WORLD!"
I am deeply disturbed that at age nine, Girl 1 seems to be following directly in my footsteps.
Friday, February 10, 2012
Leonardo DiCaprio: I'm still pissed. Netflix: You are not far behind.
So, you might know we got Netflix shortly after Santa brought us the Wii. Now, I realize the rest of the living world has probably had Netflix for about 20 years, but it's new to us. I am still a little amazed that I can flick on the TV (well, not really me, but the 10 year old boy because I have yet to learn how to use the Wii or Netflix on my own) and find an array of movies right there that I might want to see. (Let me just say now that, among other things, Netflix furthers my attempts to never have to dress or bathe.)
You might be thinking to yourself, "This is a good thing, right? How can it go south?" Well, that's what I am here to tell you. Here, my friends, is how Netflix can go wrong.
As a preface to this post I should probably tell you that since I was born I have been notoriously bad at picking movies. I just suck. I could blame my horrible memory, but that's not really fair. I think it's just in my blood. Often times I will hear a review of a movie that sounds just fabulous and 1. I really screw up the name of the movie and instead rent it's B counterpart, or 2. I actually rent the correct movie only to find the person who reviewed it was apparently on hallucinogenic drugs that caused him or her to think it was a great movie. Hubby knows this about me and tolerates it (but not without making comments about it occasionally when he's been forced to watch some movie worse than the sit-com Whitney).
Fast forward to us getting Netflix. The first movie I watched was The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo. I am not being paid to say this, but I should be. That was an awesome movie. Fabulous acting, intriguing plot, and suspenseful to the end. Despite that, my faith in my movie picking ability was restored with one movie! I know, too good to be true.
Then my second pick was Creepshow 2 circa 1980s based on the book by Stephen King. Now, I love Steven King and I may have been confusing Creepshow 2 with the original Creepshow (which I think was actually a pretty good movie). Plus, my love for Stephen King may have influenced my pick. I have read quite a few of his books and of the movies adaptations I remember I loved Misery, Christine, Shining, The Green Mile. Well, let me just say that Creepshow 2 is quite possibly The Worst Movie Ever Made Based on a Stephen King Book. In my mind (and I am pretty sure hubby's) I was demoted back to Worst Movie Picker Ever.
THEN I picked Shutter Island. I remembered that when that movie came out in 2010 (because I am still watching Must Sees from the 1900's) I really wanted to see it. Well, this is how bad it is. I fell asleep more than twice, woke up, continued watching and still was able to understand the plot. Not only is it a horrible movie, it is like a train wreck. You so want to look away, but something compels you to keep watching. When the ending credits rolled I was shocked and bitter to learn Martin Scorcese is the director?! In a nutshell: plot that's been used a million times, bad acting, lighting that's tough for people over *30*, and scary people on par with Creepshow. So, let me just say - had it been circa 1980 it could have beat Creepshow 2 for the Bad Movie Oscar.
The thing that angers me the most is that I should have known better. I really am not a DiCaprio fan. In fact, I'm kind of an un-fan. I'm still kinda angry about Titanic. Not really the movie itself, but how much I had to hear about it after the movie. Y'know? I could be one of about 20 people that hated Titanic. You already know how it ends and that takes away half the fun. And then there was Inception. I fell sound asleep after taking a bathroom break and coming back to be lost as hell. Revolutionary Road. Didn't even see it, but the trailers made me gag. I thought I had remembered all of the reasons why I do not care for DiCaprio and then hubby reminded me of What's Eating Gilbert Grape. Hubby pointed out that that was a truly great movie. I reminded hubby that it was because Leon had Johnny Depp to pull him through.
I wasted two hours and eighteen minutes of my life that I cannot get back. I finally went to bed after midnight and was grumpy and groggy all the next day. Bottom line: I'm still pissed. It's going to take me a while to get over this one. My movie recommendation (thank me later) - if you have two hours and eighteen minutes of free time this weekend do not watch DiCaprio and be cautious with Netflix. Happy weekend and may all your movie picks be winners!
You might be thinking to yourself, "This is a good thing, right? How can it go south?" Well, that's what I am here to tell you. Here, my friends, is how Netflix can go wrong.
As a preface to this post I should probably tell you that since I was born I have been notoriously bad at picking movies. I just suck. I could blame my horrible memory, but that's not really fair. I think it's just in my blood. Often times I will hear a review of a movie that sounds just fabulous and 1. I really screw up the name of the movie and instead rent it's B counterpart, or 2. I actually rent the correct movie only to find the person who reviewed it was apparently on hallucinogenic drugs that caused him or her to think it was a great movie. Hubby knows this about me and tolerates it (but not without making comments about it occasionally when he's been forced to watch some movie worse than the sit-com Whitney).
Fast forward to us getting Netflix. The first movie I watched was The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo. I am not being paid to say this, but I should be. That was an awesome movie. Fabulous acting, intriguing plot, and suspenseful to the end. Despite that, my faith in my movie picking ability was restored with one movie! I know, too good to be true.
Then my second pick was Creepshow 2 circa 1980s based on the book by Stephen King. Now, I love Steven King and I may have been confusing Creepshow 2 with the original Creepshow (which I think was actually a pretty good movie). Plus, my love for Stephen King may have influenced my pick. I have read quite a few of his books and of the movies adaptations I remember I loved Misery, Christine, Shining, The Green Mile. Well, let me just say that Creepshow 2 is quite possibly The Worst Movie Ever Made Based on a Stephen King Book. In my mind (and I am pretty sure hubby's) I was demoted back to Worst Movie Picker Ever.
 |
| It looks like it could be good, right? Apparently looks can be deceiving. |
The thing that angers me the most is that I should have known better. I really am not a DiCaprio fan. In fact, I'm kind of an un-fan. I'm still kinda angry about Titanic. Not really the movie itself, but how much I had to hear about it after the movie. Y'know? I could be one of about 20 people that hated Titanic. You already know how it ends and that takes away half the fun. And then there was Inception. I fell sound asleep after taking a bathroom break and coming back to be lost as hell. Revolutionary Road. Didn't even see it, but the trailers made me gag. I thought I had remembered all of the reasons why I do not care for DiCaprio and then hubby reminded me of What's Eating Gilbert Grape. Hubby pointed out that that was a truly great movie. I reminded hubby that it was because Leon had Johnny Depp to pull him through.
I wasted two hours and eighteen minutes of my life that I cannot get back. I finally went to bed after midnight and was grumpy and groggy all the next day. Bottom line: I'm still pissed. It's going to take me a while to get over this one. My movie recommendation (thank me later) - if you have two hours and eighteen minutes of free time this weekend do not watch DiCaprio and be cautious with Netflix. Happy weekend and may all your movie picks be winners!
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
Dead or Alive? I have no idea.
I had a completely different post for today about the discipline mistakes mothers make (and by "mothers" I mean "me"), but in case you haven't heard: BOB HOPE'S WIFE DIED. R.I.P. So, I will have to post this instead.
Yesterday I told you how I have a poor memory for details. Well, this makes it really hard to remember who is dead and who is alive. I am not talking about people I know personally (I'd like to think I have a handle on that - just don't sit still for too long.) or people who died notorious deaths (for example - Michael Jackson). I am talking about people who are more elusive like say - - Paul Newman and some politicians. I'll give you a couple examples so that you will know where I am coming from.
Recently I attended a birthday party for my brother and someone had Paul Newman salad dressing. Some party goers were wondering who could be making the dressing now that Paul Newman had died. I said something like, "HOLD THE PHONE. He's not DEAD!" There was a little polite laughter ("polite" as in "she's clearly nuts") and then some commenting about how yes, he was indeed dead and had in fact died quite some time ago.
Now, I think I have already told you hubby is like Google. He is the knower of All Facts That No One Really Cares About. So, naturally I:
1. Never play trivial pursuit with him, and
2. Consult him on all facts that I do not know (which covers basically: All Facts).
So, here is what I texted him immediately from the party:
My text: paul newman. dead or alive?
His text: dead. where will we get our dressing?
I couldn't text him back because I was so shocked. I hate it when I am dealt a death blow right before the salad course.
This phenomena of Not Knowing Who Is Dead and Who Is Alive often happens to me with politicians as well. I can never remember if they are dead or alive. AND THIS IS NOT A POLITICAL COMMENTARY. I HATE POLITICS OF ALL KIND. THIS IS STRICTLY TO ILLUSTRATE HOW BAD MY MEMORY IS.
George Washington - Haha! Dead....................Right?
JFK - dead. I can remember that. Although, the how? and when? are still a little sketchy and possibly conspiratorial in my mind.
Ronald Reagan - dead. I can remember it because it seemed he died and then two weeks later I turned on the TV and he was still dying.
Richard Nixon's wife? Hmm. Now, there's a toss up. Dead? Possibly. Alive? Possibly. I'm thinking - dead, but could be like 114??? This would definitely be a "consult hubby" and also a sarcastic comment from hubby in reply. Such as: You have a master's degree????
To keep me on my toes hubby will sometimes play a game with me that we call Dead or Alive. Totally irreverent for some (if you are one of those "some" then "sorry"). He throws out a name and I have to say "dead" or "alive." He may do this to chastise me for not knowing any facts or he may do this to see how bad my Bad Memory is progressing. It doesn't matter because I usually fail miserably on both counts.
Now, all this about politicians and Paul Newman is just a little history for you so that you would understand what happened this morning when hubby greeted me with the news that Bob Hope's wife had died.
Hubby: Hey babe. I see here (as he had the newspaper spread out in front of him) that Bob Hope's wife died.
Me: Bob Hope's?
Hubby: Yes. She was 102.
Me: Wow. I thought she was dead. I'm sure Bob will be sad. And, how old does that make him?
Hubby: You're kidding, right?
Me: Huh?
To sum up: Bob Hope and his wife are now dead, friends. They were both really old when they died. Try to remember that. I was greeted with this sad news before my morning coffee. No worries, though because thankfully I have had time to recover from the news of "no more salads for me" since I am not sure who is now making the Paul Newman salad dressing. Here's to memory and a mostly happy Tuesday!
Yesterday I told you how I have a poor memory for details. Well, this makes it really hard to remember who is dead and who is alive. I am not talking about people I know personally (I'd like to think I have a handle on that - just don't sit still for too long.) or people who died notorious deaths (for example - Michael Jackson). I am talking about people who are more elusive like say - - Paul Newman and some politicians. I'll give you a couple examples so that you will know where I am coming from.
Recently I attended a birthday party for my brother and someone had Paul Newman salad dressing. Some party goers were wondering who could be making the dressing now that Paul Newman had died. I said something like, "HOLD THE PHONE. He's not DEAD!" There was a little polite laughter ("polite" as in "she's clearly nuts") and then some commenting about how yes, he was indeed dead and had in fact died quite some time ago.
Now, I think I have already told you hubby is like Google. He is the knower of All Facts That No One Really Cares About. So, naturally I:
1. Never play trivial pursuit with him, and
2. Consult him on all facts that I do not know (which covers basically: All Facts).
So, here is what I texted him immediately from the party:
My text: paul newman. dead or alive?
His text: dead. where will we get our dressing?
I couldn't text him back because I was so shocked. I hate it when I am dealt a death blow right before the salad course.
This phenomena of Not Knowing Who Is Dead and Who Is Alive often happens to me with politicians as well. I can never remember if they are dead or alive. AND THIS IS NOT A POLITICAL COMMENTARY. I HATE POLITICS OF ALL KIND. THIS IS STRICTLY TO ILLUSTRATE HOW BAD MY MEMORY IS.
George Washington - Haha! Dead....................Right?
JFK - dead. I can remember that. Although, the how? and when? are still a little sketchy and possibly conspiratorial in my mind.
Ronald Reagan - dead. I can remember it because it seemed he died and then two weeks later I turned on the TV and he was still dying.
Richard Nixon's wife? Hmm. Now, there's a toss up. Dead? Possibly. Alive? Possibly. I'm thinking - dead, but could be like 114??? This would definitely be a "consult hubby" and also a sarcastic comment from hubby in reply. Such as: You have a master's degree????
To keep me on my toes hubby will sometimes play a game with me that we call Dead or Alive. Totally irreverent for some (if you are one of those "some" then "sorry"). He throws out a name and I have to say "dead" or "alive." He may do this to chastise me for not knowing any facts or he may do this to see how bad my Bad Memory is progressing. It doesn't matter because I usually fail miserably on both counts.
Now, all this about politicians and Paul Newman is just a little history for you so that you would understand what happened this morning when hubby greeted me with the news that Bob Hope's wife had died.
Hubby: Hey babe. I see here (as he had the newspaper spread out in front of him) that Bob Hope's wife died.
Me: Bob Hope's?
Hubby: Yes. She was 102.
Me: Wow. I thought she was dead. I'm sure Bob will be sad. And, how old does that make him?
Hubby: You're kidding, right?
Me: Huh?
To sum up: Bob Hope and his wife are now dead, friends. They were both really old when they died. Try to remember that. I was greeted with this sad news before my morning coffee. No worries, though because thankfully I have had time to recover from the news of "no more salads for me" since I am not sure who is now making the Paul Newman salad dressing. Here's to memory and a mostly happy Tuesday!
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