by jphilo | Jan 26, 2016 | Uncategorized
The Man of Steel and I are home after a week in Phoenix visiting relatives. During this, our first winter vacation to warmer climes, we noticed these ten differences between Arizona and Iowa.
10. In Iowa, you’ll see trees similar to this one being propped up,
but you’ll only find these in Arizona.
9. Iowa hiking paths are strewn with wood chips or gravel. Arizona hiking paths are strewn with boulders poking every which way and then topped with large rocks so the boulders become even more hazardous.
8. The walkways to airplanes in Iowa sport large thermometers right outside the airplane so passengers know the walkway is a balmy 20 degrees and not below zero like the great outdoors. Passengers in Arizona walkways don’t want to know that walkways in Iowa are a balmy 20 degrees.
7. In Arizona, people sport flannel scarves for walks in 68 degree weather. In Iowa, people sport flip flops when the temperature is above freezing.
6. Iowans shiver while drinking morning coffee outside Starbucks. Arizonans shiver inside while sipping their AM java.
5. Arizonans carry yoga mats over their shoulders on morning walks. Iowans carry snow shovels.
4. Arizona grocery stores carry delicious avocados and terrible beef. Iowa grocery stores offer the exact opposite.
3. Arizonans put their dogs in purple and pink strollers for outdoor walks in the winter. Iowans put their dogs in black and gold, red and gold, or purple and gold sweaters.
2. Arizona has more urgent care pet clinics, pet spas, and upscale pet stores than pediatrician offices. Iowa has more urgent care clinics for little people than pet stores.
1. In Arizona dogs wear sunglasses. In Iowa, eye wear is limited to adults.
What makes your Arizona/Iowa top ten list? Leave a comment.
by jphilo | Jan 1, 2016 | Uncategorized
Darkness must pass.
A new day will come.
And when the sun shines,
it will shine out the clearer.
~J.R.R. Tolkein
Happy New Year!
by jphilo | Dec 21, 2015 | Uncategorized
The 2015 Christmas season has been a strange one so far. All our family gathering were or will be at the homes of other rellies. ThanksChristmas with extended family at my brother’s on Thanksgiving weekend. Christmas celebration with both our kids and their families in Minnesota last weekend. Painting walls with our daughter and son-in-law in Wisconsin over Christmas weekend.
Like I said it’s been a strange one.
Add to that the Man of Steel’s bum back and my bum hand, and we made a tandem executive decision to not decorate the house for Christmas. No garland. No twinkly lights. No bowls filled with ornaments. No Christmas card holder. No holiday mugs. Not even our Christmas tree.
As the Man of Steel likes to say, we’re jiggy with that.
Only two reminders of the season have graced our home during the Advent season. The first was the stunning, homemade macaroni and glitter glue Christmas tree I created for my hand therapist. The tree sat on our dining room table for as long as it took me to painstakingly glue each piece of dried pasta to the oh-so-cleverly-hidden styrofoam cone with my left hand. Which is a really long time for someone who’s left hand has always let her right hand hog the glory.
But the fruit of my labor is no longer on the table.
Because I gave it to the hand therapist last week. It rendered her speechless. Apparently four weeks of therapy has not been sufficient time for us to get to know one another well. If we’d known each other better, she would have realized the tree was a gag gift. And I would have realized she’s too kind and caring to believe one of her patients would give her a gag gift.
The Christmas tree now graces the counter of the hand therapist’s room.
So only one vestige of Christmas remains at our house. It’s the growing mountain of Christmas cards and letters from friends and family. They just keep coming even though last year, for the first time since 1982 my Christmas letter never got written. Actually, that’s not true. It was half-written when we got the call that a room was open for Mom at the assisted living facility where she now lives. By the time the move was done, Mom’s finances were once again in order, and she’d adjusted to her new home, it was Easter.
This year, I’m drawing a line in our strange Christmas sand.
I promise that this year’s Christmas letter will get written and sent. Not by Christmas. But maybe by the New Year. It may not look a lot like Christmas around here, but with every Christmas card I send, it’ll feel like it.
Merry Christmas!
by jphilo | Oct 23, 2015 | Uncategorized
This Friday’s post comes from October of 2010. Back then, Tuesdays were my normal day to visit Mom and the switch to Wednesday was a welcome change for her. Five years later, we’ve made a permanent switch to Wednesday. Mom would choose Village Inn and free pie every Wednesday (if that was an option), and then send the pie home for the Man of Steel. Because her appetite for pie has decreased, though her appetite for a great bargain has not.
Wednesdays with Dorothy
Tuesdays are usually for visiting my mom, Dorothy. Most weeks we go out for lunch, run errands, keep appointments, pay her bills, and balance her checkbook. But my crazy week of travel meant our day out was today, Wednesday.
Which was fine by Mom. She’s been hankering for schedule change ever since Village Inn started their Wednesday-free-pie-with-any-purchase promotion. So today we made a beeline for Village Inn – before putting gas in her car or buying some birthday cards – and made quick work of lunch. Then we ordered our free pie. Cherry for Mom. Strawberry-rhubarb for me. It was surprisingly good pie, though it couldn’t hold a candle to homemade.
The fact that it was free had Mom, thrifty survivor of the Great Depression, grinning from ear to ear. Free pie made her happy enough to crack a few jokes on the way home. Engaged enough to read yard signs and comment on the political leanings of home owners along the way. Secure enough in who she is to use her cane in the Target parking lot. Silly enough to choose the goofiest card she could find for her son-in-law’s birthday. And to think, all it took to make her happy was a schedule change and free pie.
Wednesday with Dorothy – priceless.
by jphilo | Oct 9, 2015 | Uncategorized
This Fantastic Friday post comes from October of 2007. It’s one of the first blog posts ever published on Down the Gravel Road. I can’t remember the name of the person who’s funeral is mentioned. But every day, I remember and treasure the lesson my dad taught me each day of his life.
On Monday, I went to a funeral for a man from our church. His children paid tribute to their dad during the service. He’d been a wonderful father, who took them hunting and fishing. He coached Little League, encouraging and teaching every child on the team. They mentioned that throughout their adult lives, when they reunited with childhood friends, their friends said hello and in the next breath, “How’s your dad?”
Maybe I shouldn’t confess this, but their memories saddened me. They reminded me of all my father couldn’t do with us. Don’t get me wrong. Dad was a vibrant man who loved children. He would have been a great Little League coach. And though he wasn’t a hunter or fisherman, he would have led our 4-H club. He would have taught us to raise, show and judge cattle because that was what he loved.
But he couldn’t do any of that because multiple sclerosis put him in a wheelchair when he was thirty, my sister was six, I was three and my brother was a baby. So I was sad at Monday’s funeral, not only for the family of the man who had died but also for what our family lost to Dad’s illness.
For the last few days, God has comforted me with truth. Over and over I’ve pictured Dad in his wheelchair while he lived at home or in his bed at the nursing home. And in every picture, his wide face is serious, even sad. Until one of his children or grandkids comes into his presence. Then his face breaks into a big grin that shows his square, white teeth and his green eyes light with delight.
And that is what Dad taught me: a father’s delight in the presence of his children. His delight didn’t come from what we could do for him. He was delighted because we were his children. We had taken time to be with him.
So now I’m thinking about God the Father. When I enter His presence, does His face light up? After all, I’m His child too.
by jphilo | Oct 6, 2015 | Uncategorized
Long airport layovers give a person plenty of think time. Here are 10 things I’ve been thinking while sitting in airports lately.
10. Sitting beside a sweet 12-year-old during her first flight ever makes flying fun again.
9. Smart phone boarding passes. Totally worth the price of an iPhone.
8. If we can send men to the moon, why can’t escalator handrails be programmed to move at the same speed as the escalator steps?
7. I predict that in the next few years cup holders will become a fixture, not only on chairs in airport gates, but also in airport bathroom stalls.
6. Airport coffee shops. Ahhh!
5. Diabetics, people with celiac disease, and dairy allergies should never be assigned to airport gates directly across from Cinnabon. It’s cruel and unusual punishment.
4. In addition their two free bags policy, Southwest Airlines flight crews give extra peanuts if you ask.
3. They also let you use the bathroom before take off. Especially if you ask with a very pained expression. Don’t ask how I know this.
2. And when they page a passenger with an ordinary name to come to the front of the plane, they also page Brad Pitt. Believe me, that gets everyone’s attention right away.
1. Sadly, the powers that be removed the Blues Brother statue from its spot between the A and B terminals at Chicago Midway Airport. Only the sight of a Southwest gate attendant in a black fedora mitigated this traveler’s disappointment.
What do you think about during airport layovers? Keep it clean, people!
but you’ll only find these in Arizona.
9. Iowa hiking paths are strewn with wood chips or gravel. Arizona hiking paths are strewn with boulders poking every which way and then topped with large rocks so the boulders become even more hazardous.
