Posts Tagged With: fun


The rains have been welcoming if disconcerting with multiple lightning strikes, gloom, and water cascading down my driveway. The news is, despite this pleasant drink of water, the drought will continue. oroville

The reservoirs are no longer holding enough water. I have a well and expect to get it up and running to bastion my property against the drought. It hasn’t been operated in over ten years. The aquifer may be empty and not suitable.  Time will tell.

New tires will be rolling me to Oregon at the end of this week for some needed input into the house building job. The tires will be installed this morning.

FLASH- The Mystery Santa was neighbor Peggy Morris. I called once with no answer but finally spoke to her last night. What a delightful thing to receive this lovely Christmas letter in my EMAIL box. Too fun!

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Peggy denied being the mystery Santa of the second letter. Hmm!  I’m narrowing down the suspects.







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Never thought I’d order macaroni and cheese for a festive New Years dinner. With crab it was marvelous; served at Alchemy in Murphys, along with lobster bisque, cornbread, a glass of Frog Tooth pino grigio, and a cappuccino, chocolate mousse for desert. Decadent Yum. Thank you Ken and Laurie for the lovely dinner.

Then a walk to the Murphys Hotel for a cocktail and some loud, fun noise of people rejoicing, enjoying. Home early. Listened to my Antsy McClain Trailer Park Troubadors dvd two times. Rang in the year with the television set and feel great this morning.

Merry have we met

Merry have we been

Merry may we part

And, merry meet again.


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My friend Pam Munn recently moved to Thousand Palms and came by the park and picked me up so we could go to lunch and hob-nob around town. She warned me that an event called the Tour de Palm Springs was being hosted this weekend.

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On the highway, it was disconcerting to be driving among sweeping globs of hundreds of bicyclers. In town, it seemed more controlled.

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Ten thousand bikers registered for this 16th annual event. They were friendly, of all ages, and seemed to be having a grand time. They ride to support and raise money for 150 charities in the Coachella Valley.

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I noticed a couple of bikers stopped to cool their feet in a fountain outside of this gated golf course. Pam told me the area has 106 golf courses, all watered with used grey water. I wanted to join them because my feet and one ankle were sore after the power walk of the day before. I walked with this group without a problem before the accident. I have to re-coop slowly.

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She took me around the lower side of town which is surrounded by a mountain range. The land beneath the mountains is owned by the water company. It is their water shed and is protected but with access to mountain climbing and picnicking on water company property.

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Pam spotted this pretty bird. I took the picture from the window. The minute we opened the door, it was gone.

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In town, the event was in full swing, with bands and cheer leaders urging the bikers on to the finish line. I have no clue the distance nor route they ride for this event.

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Families cheered on their favorite biker and watched and waited to take pictures as they crossed the finish line.

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Once they crossed the finish line, they dispersed into the Tour de Palm Springs Street Faire as did we. Several blocks of streets downtown were closed to traffic and given over to the event. We enjoyed it very much. Had a great lunch, and still took time to do a bit of shopping. My swim suit turned into trash since the last time I used it. So, I bought another.

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I waited patiently for the line of people having their picture taken with this 27 foot tall statue of Marilyn. Pam says she is prettier at night because she is lit up and her dress is painted with a pearly, luminous paint.

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We stopped for a drink. The band was good but loud. It was impossible to talk without placing lip to ear. We didn’t stay long.

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At this shop, I think it was Canyon Rose Boutique, the clerk asked us, “Where you from?” I told her Murphys. She said, “Oh, just minutes ago someone from Murphys was in here, are you together.” No. I told her the shop reminded me of Reza’s Bags in Murphys. “That’s what she said, too.” What are the odds?

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I love kitschy stuff, so I took pictures of stuff and no one can have too many scarves doncha know. (I was only going to buy a swim suit, but…)

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This woman was photographing her friend trying on and modeling a beautiful hat.

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I believe this was Weitzmens Gallery. It has huge sculptures in front and massive paintings of good quality if you wanted to find it, it is easy to find.

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There was a lot to see in Palm Springs that Pam and I didn’t get to. I have friends coming on Wednesday that will spend a couple of days and we’ll get another look.

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My bike is practically frozen from being on the back of the bronco through so much changeable weather. It is about as mobile as this one. I’m planning to keep it at home from now on. After dinner in the motor home, Pam and I went to the recreation hall to hear some music, but it wasn’t much to our taste and she left at 8 p.m. This week she is going to give me painting lessons using acrylics.

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Upon visiting a cousin in Marquette MI one year, I  saw a similar scene near a skating rink where a little boy, with tears streaming down his face,  got his tongue stuck to a metal pole and couldn’t get it off. No one thought to carry water, or realized how thirsty children get, even if it is snowing out. An adult with a cup of coffee freed him. So, of course, I had to have this card for my collection of that lesson learned.

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Little kids in snow country love to catch the first snowflakes with their tongues and suck on icicles. We never had the ice cream flavored icicles that these make-believe children have.

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And, oh, how many snow angels we made right after a fresh fall of snow.

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And every hillside our playground.

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We not only built snowmen and women and children, but igloos and snowball forts and caves. When I look at these cards I remember all that fun stuff. But, I wouldn’t want to go back to snow country.

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Most people from my childhood cut and hauled in a live tree. We didn’t go to a lot.

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And dad gave pointers on the way it is done, until you were old enough to do it yourself. My oldest brother chopped his first tree, beautiful and just the right size when viewed in the woods. When he dragged it home, we couldn’t get it through the door. But, we chopped it in half, the neighbor on our road used the top half and we used the bottom half. It all worked out.

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Sweeping off the sidewalk to feed the birds.

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The boy with the snowball reminds me of mittens so stuck with snow, we liked to chew it off so we could make another snowball. (Much to my mother’s chagrin.)

I’m on my way today to finish errands, get a last treatment from the chiropractor and maybe write a few Christmas cards. Hope you are enjoying the season as I am, no matter how busy.



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The word posslq, or, as I misspelled it, adding an extra oh to give its complete acronym. It is pronounced poss-ul-q.

While I became acquainted with the word during the census of the 70’s, I had no idea it had an earlier origin until reader Judilyn posted this:

I have been looking all over the net for a poem by Erma Bombeck about POSSLQ that I thought I had read decades ago, but have struck out. I did, however, find this quote from the 1700′s!

Come live with me and be my love,
And we will some new pleasures prove
Of golden sands and crystal brooks
With silken lines, and silver hooks.
There’s nothing that I wouldn’t do
If you would be my POSSLQ.

You live with me, and I with you,
And you will be my POSSLQ.
I’ll be your friend and so much more;
That’s what a POSSLQ is for.

And everything we will confess;
Yes, even to the IRS.
Some day on what we both may earn,
Perhaps we’ll file a joint return.
You’ll share my pad, my taxes, joint;
You’ll share my life – up to a point!
And that you’ll be so glad to do,
Because you’ll be my POSSLQ.
Come, muse, let us sing of rats!
– From a poem by James Grainger (1721-1767)

She and I both wondered about the IRS, and how that reference came out of the 1700’s?  Well, mystery solved from Wikipedia comes this information:

POSSLQ (/ˈpɒsəlkjuː/ POSS-əl-KYOO) is an abbreviation (or acronym) for “Persons of Opposite Sex Sharing Living Quarters,” a term coined in the late 1970s by the United States Census Bureau as part of an effort to more accurately gauge the prevalence of cohabitation in American households.

After the 1980 Census, the term gained currency in the wider culture for a time.[1] CBS commentator Charles Osgood composed a verse which includes

There’s nothing that I wouldn’t do
If you would be my POSSLQ
You live with me and I with you,
And you will be my POSSLQ.
I’ll be your friend and so much more;
That’s what a POSSLQ is for.[2]

Elliot Sperber, the writer of The Hartford Courants weekly cryptogram, invented a cryptogram that (when solved) said:

Roses are Red,
Violets are Blue,
Won’t you be my POSSLQ?

Anyway, it was a fun excursion into the term posslq and I enjoyed the poem by Charles Osgood and the cryptogram too.

There are two references on-line to humorist Erma Bombeck’s statements about posslq. One from the New York Time’s magazine in March of 1980 but I didn’t follow the lead through. It was tedious to get there.

Now I’m going to introduce Jim as my posslq to people from now on!!  Reason?  Its fun.







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