One thing the pandemic has shown me is that I’m quite content wearing the same 10 outfits over and over again.
Now, I’m retired. My husband has health issues, so I really don’t venture out much. There are still 2,000 new cases of Covid-19 every day in my county, and even though we’re vaccinated, I just don’t want to expose hubby to germs. Once a week, my Bible study group gathers on Zoom. Otherwise, I see very few people other than hubby and our grown children. Obviously, if I had a job or socialized, I would want more variety in my closet.
Back in pre-Covid days, I’d visit one of my favorite stores each month and check out the clearance racks. Even though I didn’t need new clothes, I’d justify that I couldn’t afford not to pick up a few bargains. Besides, I could always donate some clothes to Goodwill to make room for the new ones.
I have, from time to time, worn some of my better clothes at home just to enjoy them, but mostly I wear my “everyday clothes,” which are older and softer due to many, many washings.
On a totally unrelated note, the other day I remembered a tradition from my childhood—birthday spankings. Does anyone (probably you’d have to be a senior citizen) remember those? On your birthday, your teacher might have the class sing Happy Birthday to you; then, with great drama (and very little force), she’d put you over her knee and proceed to give you a spank for every year of your new age, plus one extra for good luck, and a “pinch to grow an inch,” while the rest of the class squealed with delight. I sincerely doubt any school district would permit such frivolity in this day and age, but do you remember birthday spankings, or did I just hallucinate them?
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Can anyone sing it well? How do you feel about standing for it? If you could write a new anthem, what would your lyrics say? Is a professional ball game a suitable venue for the national anthem, or are we just asking for trouble playing it in a sports arena?
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Love ’em or hate ’em? Do you consider tomatoes and corn vegetables? If you were making vegetable soup from scratch, what would you be sure to include?
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What’s your favorite musical? Hamilton? South Pacific? Lion King? Hello, Dolly? Did you ever perform in a musical? If you were to write a musical, what would the plot be? What style of music? What would the dancers’ costumes be like? Minimalist sets, or lavish scenery?
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My dream car used to be a Camaro. When we were raising our kids, I drove a 7-seater Caravan. Now I have my mid-life crisis car: a Mustang.
What was your first car? What do you drive now? Or what would you drive if money were no object? Or maybe you prefer an alternate method of getting around.
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When I was nine years old, my parents, who were German immigrants and still had relatives there, took my baby brother and me to Germany on vacation. It was their first visit home in ten years.
Schloss Hellbrun, photo by Nicholas Even
One of the highlights of the trip for me was crossing the border into Salzburg, Austria. We toured the famous salt mine, and visited the fabled Hellbrun Palace, built in 1613–19 by Markus Sittikus von Hohenems, Prince and Archbishop of Salzburg.
photo by Zairon
Schloss Hellbrun is also famous for its Wasserspiele, literally “water games.” Hidden among the gardens are fountains, a series of practical jokes devised by Sittikus to be played on his guests. If I remember correctly, I was among a throng of tourists absorbed in the workings of a miniature mechanical village (pictured above)tucked inside a little grotto on the grounds when we were suddenly squirted with water. (My parents stepped back with baby Billy just moments before. Obviously, they knew what was coming.)
Below are more statuary and trick fountains in the gardens. (Click on the photos below to enlarge and reveal the photo credits.)
I got my first learner’s permit when I was a senior in high school. My dad took me out driving several times in his huge Buick LeSabre. Our sessions usually ended with him red-faced and shouting at me, and me crying. At the time, I didn’t understand why Dad was so frustrated.
The day of my scheduled road test was also the day of the first blizzard of 1970. I had no experience driving in snow. Even though Dad promised the test course would be plowed by the time we got there, this was not the way I’d imagined it. I pictured myself driving us to the Motor Vehicles office on non-scary, dry roads. I didn’t want a last-minute lesson on driving on snow-covered roads. So I refused to go. Dad said I could call and reschedule, but I just…
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