The Great One

Who comes to mind when I say "The Great One"? This is a generational thing and your age probably dictates who "The Great One" is.
I googled the phrase. The first hit refers to Wayne Gretzky. My boys were big hockey fans and they would probably think of him if I used that phrase. I remember Jackie Gleason as "The Great One". He had a variety TV show in the 60's and his Honeymooners series still plays somewhere in TVLand reruns.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Great_One
Google did not reveal the person most recently dubbed "The Great One". Jon's old friend was in town. They have been friends about 60 yrs. His family is like our family. We had breakfast with his sisters and brother in-law Tuesday. Dick told us (his wife) Peg had a new title: "The Great One". They had their great grandchild baptized last weekend. Peg sat with the three year old big sister, their great-granddaughter, during the service. This little girl stuck by her and differentiates between her multiple grandmas and ggrandma by calling her "The Great One". Cute.
It'll be a few more years before we have great-grandchildren. We're anxiously awaiting our daughter's Dr. appt. next week when the Ultrasound should tell if Little A & Little B are boys, girls, or a boy & girl. Whatever they are, they will be great ones.

Link to another blogger's "Great One": http://www.chick.com/reading/tracts/1002/1002_01.asp

Minding Your Ps and Qs --or-- Scrabble Dilema

Honor Game or Game Without Honor

There has been reminiscing in my extended family in anticipation of an August family reunion. Old pictures and letters spur on fond memories. At my age I only entertain fond memories. You need to let go of any not so pleasant ones if you can when you are younger.

My grandpa loved to play cards. Pre-television life in a small town years ago, people socialized by visiting or playing cards together. Grandpa was competitive and my mom said he never wanted to go home for the night unless he won the last game. He called it the "honor game". One could lose all night, but it was important to at least win that last game to feel good when you quit for the evening.

Saturday our daughter spent the afternoon at our house. She indulged me in playing a game of Scrabble. We only had time for one game before dinner and she beat me. No time for an "honor game".

Yesterday another friend, Karen, was here and we played two games of Scrabble. We each won one game. I won the last game. I won the "honor game". When I play with her she does not let me cheat and look up questionable words before I play them. She enforces the rules that dictate playing the word and hoping you are not challenged. I must play an "honorable game" with her.

One of my dearest, long-time friends (Barb) and I love to play Scrabble when we see each other. We play by our own rules. We check out words in the dictionary before playing. It all works out. We have the same advantage as the other. I'll keep working on softening Karen up to the alternate "Game Without Honor" of Scrabble.

Smoker's Remorse

Mural on a ceiling of a smoker's lounge.

The Modern Mother

My friend Mary loaned me her mother's nursing school text books. She graduated in the last class from Lakeview Memorial Hospital, Stillwater, MN in 1930. I just parused a text on Obstetric Nursing printed in 1914, revised 1930. While giving birth has not changed through the ages, medical care has. In 1930 Morphine was injected to control pain. Horror. Morphine depresses the respirator rate of the fetus or newborn, not a good thing. Mom were kept on bedrest ten days after delivering. They probably fainted when they got up the first time after that interval. My favorite section of the book is on assisting nursing moms. Put the babe to breast every four hours between 6:00 am and 10:30 pm. No night feeding. Interesting. This is a hungry newborn. I don't think I will pass along this advice to my daughter who is especting. With twins, I don't think she will be sleeping through the night for a few days.

Memorial Day

My mom died 14 years ago today, June 1st. Her funeral was on June 3rd, my dad's birthday.

Still miss you mom.

Impatient

We have a mostly shady backyard. I am limited to planting flowers that thrive in shade. The most common, colorful annual is the impatient. I wonder why it is called that? Anyway, it's been a cool spring. Everytime I contemplate a trip to the nursery to get my impatients the weatherman threatens too cool overnights. Not fun to cover all the flowers. I was getting impatient. Yesterday was the last day of May. Certainly I can put in my delicate annuals. I did. By 5:00pm stormy weather moved in. After last weeks closeby tornado, when those warning sirens rang, we watched TV reports. Three storms were in the area. Two were converging on us with possible hail, wind sheer and reports of possible funnel clouds. My first thought? Darn. Why did I put in those flowers! My second thought? Shame on me. Wind threatening lives and property. This is more important than my flower beds.
Today, on my walk, I recalled the story of Jonah, the biblical story about with the whale. Jonah was told by God to go to Nineveh and tell the people to repent. He ran away and was ultimately swallowed by a whale. After he was coughed up, he decided to do as he was asked and went to Nineveh. He preached repentance. Then he went out into the desert and sat under the shade of a gourd plant watching for the "mushroom cloud". The people in Nineveh repented. God changed his plan to destory the city. Jonah's gourd plant withered in the hot sun and he complained. Too hot. Too sunny. God again corrected him and reminded him that God does not want anyone to come to harm. God was tenderhearted toward the city "where there are more than 300,000 who do not know their left hand from their right." (That doesn't mean a city full of dumb people. It means young children.) God was more concerned with the lives of those in Nineveh than Jonah's comfort. I get the message. I repent.