All posts in category Family

Sometimes I Could just Scream!

January started off active for Bob and me. He had been suffering with issues from pinched nerves in his neck for some time and finally succumbed to fusion surgery. It went well, and he was told to rest and no driving for six weeks. Several days after the surgery, he noticed one of the veins in his arm had become more pronounced than usual and was uncomfortable. We were off to get an ultrasound – doctor’s orders.

It was convenient for me to drop him off as I had a doctor’s appointment just a few miles away from the imaging center. (Such is life for the over 65 crowd.) It was even more convenient when, as I was talking to our doctor (who’s also our friend) at the end of my visit, his nurse received a call saying that Bob needed to go to the ER. That place on his arm was a blood clot. I was literally talking to the doctor when the call came in. I would be there in less than 10 minutes.

I don’t know much about blood clots except they can be serious and you don’t want one. I picked up Bob and we arrived at the ER in short order. The ER insisted on running their own ultrasound. I guess they don’t take just anybody’s word for anything. It was a busy evening at the ER, so after the imaging, Bob and I opted to get away from all the people coughing up their lungs and blowing noses like they had stock in Kleenex. We waited outside on a bench with a heated blanket provided by the kind nursing staff.

As we huddled under the blankets on this atypically chilly January evening, a young man walked by. I read his shirt and obeyed.

He looked at me when I screamed, “Ahhhh!” He seemed a little taken aback, but he kept walking.

Bob shook his head and very soon we were called in to get the official word. Yes, he had blood clots in his arm, but no they were not in a serious area and not life-threatening. We were sent home with instructions to use a heating pad on the area several times a day and they should resolve on their own, which they ultimately did.

As we walked through the parking lot to our car, that same young man with the scream shirt passed us. I greeted him. “Hey there. Do you know why I screamed when you walked by us earlier?”

“Not really. I just thought you were crazy,” he replied.

“You may not be far off,” I laughed. “I just read your shirt and did what I was told.”

He smiled and we went our separate ways until I almost immediately turned back to him as I felt that prompting that I should say something else. He was smoking when he walked past me. “You know you should really give those things up. They are so bad for you.”

He responded politely that he had tried in the past and it didn’t work.

“Do you know Jesus? Talk to God and ask him for the help to quit,” I said.

He told me that he had prayed in the past and that he would again. He thanked me and we went our separate ways.

I’m thankful for my impulsive response. I have no idea why I screamed when I read his shirt. That was even a bit much for me, but how else would I have had an opening to talk to a 20-something-year-old guy without screaming to get his attention first. I love how God gives us little opportunities in our life to speak to people and encourage them toward him. What funny openings have you had that gave you an opportunity to speak into someone’s life?

Just for fun. My grandkids said Bob looked like Darth Vader when he wore his neck brace. Bob chose his shirt to accent the positive and submitted to a photo. There is good in him.

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by Bonnie Anderson on August 13, 2024  •  Permalink
Posted in Faith, Family, People that I Meet, Stuff I Go Through
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Posted by Bonnie Anderson on August 13, 2024

https://lifeonthelighterside.com/2024/08/13/sometimes-i-could-just-scream/

Fly Me to the Moon

Credit: IMDB

If you like classy romantic comedies and you also are interested in the space race, particularly Apollo 11 and its historic moon landing, you will love this movie! It was refreshing to see a film that has an engaging storyline and clips of a time in history of which I am fascinated. How entertaining to look back at Cocoa Beach in the late 1960s – that was a bonus!

I was 13 years old when Apollo 11 landed on the moon in July of 1969. We did not live in Florida at that time, but my dad was involved in the Mercury, Gemini, and Apollo missions via his job as a deputy communications director at Andrews Air Force Base just outside of Washington, D.C. In fact, in the early 1960s, that area in Maryland did not yet have its own identity as our postal city address was Washington, D.C.

I have memories of Dad going on TDY (temporary duty) “down range.” I do not recall ever asking him what that meant. I was probably afraid he would tell me, and I would be sucked into his work life. The answers would have been far more exciting now than when I was a young teenage girl. More than likely, I was simply involved in myself and didn’t even think to ask the question.

Dad traveled a lot during the launches. He also went to splashdown parties and several of the astronauts knew him by name. That was realized by my nephew one day when Dad was visiting them in Washington State. During some tour they were doing, an astronaut was there, recognized my dad, and called him by name. In my nephew’s eyes, Dad may as well have landed on the moon.

All these memories and more were swimming through my mind while we watched the movie: Walter Cronkite and his famous sign-off, “And that’s the way it is…” – Mixing a glass of Tang, just like the astronauts drank in space. – Neil Armstrong telling us, “The Eagle has landed.” – And even more moving were those perfect words he stated after setting foot on the lunar surface. “That’s one small step for man and one giant leap for mankind.”

The actual footage incorporated into the film was marvelous. The story contained parts that were crazy and funny. I laughed so much at one point that I disturbed the man sitting in front of me. (He’s not used to going to the movies with me!)

I was sucked into the story – like I wish I had given myself and my dad the opportunity to allow me to be sucked into the amazing things he was witnessing up close and personal back so many years ago. I missed my dad. Sadly, those times can’t be revisited.

Or can they? Not in the same way, of course. After Dad passed nearly seven years ago, being the only local one of their kids, I was tasked with going through his massive files and memorabilia. We kept the garbage collection folks busy during that time, but there were some real gems within the mountains of stuff, including lots of information about Apollo 10 and 11. I wish I could ask my father how he came to own these things, but that may be a question better not to ask.

Here are a few of my favorite photos from the files, complete with autographs. I think I need to figure out how to display some of these.

Earth Rise

After recovery from splash down over the Pacific Ocean, President Nixon speaks to the astronauts via microphone while they are in their quarantine trailer aboard the USS Hornet some 900 miles southwest of Hawaii. The trailer was then offloaded in Hawaii and flown by aircraft to Houston where the astronauts completed their 21-day quarantine. You can’t be too careful! There might have been harmful organisms brought back from the moon.

And then there is my favorite artifact from that period – a Project Apollo coffee mug. During the movie, this mug was featured prominently in the command center as NASA employees watched the launch of Apollo 11. It also has a prominent place in my curio cabinet. I’ll never drink out of it because I’d probably spill since it’s cone-shaped (like the command module) and likely the paint contains lead. Still, it’s pretty cool and one of my favorite things from my dad. Thanks for the memories, Dad!

So, what are the chances that I would see the movie, Fly Me to the Moon, on one day and then the next day revisit an old blog post of mine from July 2011where I talk about my love the space program? Astronomical!

The movie and that post have some interesting, common links, so I’ll also link it here. By the way, before July 31, 2012, I blogged under A Ship Bound for Tarshish, so don’t get confused by the name difference. You’ll be clicking onto the correct link.

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by Bonnie Anderson on July 23, 2024  •  Permalink
Posted in Celebrities, Family, Florida Living, Movie Reviews
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Posted by Bonnie Anderson on July 23, 2024

https://lifeonthelighterside.com/2024/07/23/fly-me-to-the-moon/

Scotland – Eating and Hiking Edition

When we travel overseas, we like to get outside, breathe in some fresh air, and take a little walk as soon as possible to help us get on the time zone. This trip had us landing in Edinburgh and then driving a little more than an hour to St Andrews on our first day. Since we flew overnight, that meant that it felt like six in the morning when we dragged our sleepy bodies off the plane.

But, it was 11 am on a Saturday morning and that was the perfect time to take a walk and find lunch in Edinburgh before getting in the car for a drive. We ate along The Royal Mile at a barbeque place called Oink Hog Roast, which had been featured in a travel show Dacia had seen.

It was here that a kind young lady behind the counter allowed me to have a wee taste of haggis – my first and last. I wasn’t sure what to expect, and by that I mean how much I would dislike haggis. It took one bite for me to know I disliked it completely. Maybe if they had come up with a more beckoning name, but a rose by any other name would smell so sweet, or taste so gross. I wasn’t very hungry, so I opted out of the grunter and oink portion sizes and just ordered the piglet. Warning: they don’t believe in sauces like we do here, so it was dry but edible. Thus went our first Scottish meal.

Piglets and crisps

Now it was time to walk it off and what better place to do that than Arthur’s Seat? It’s part of an ancient volcanic area near the city center. As we were approaching the hiking trails, following a short distance behind our son and his family, I was reminded that I was not in Florida anymore. These were proper hills.

We saw our son ask which trail they should take and up they headed. When we reached the person of whom they had inquired, I said, “I saw you point our son in that direction. Look at us. Which way should we go?”

“You may want to take that route over there. They all end up in the same place, so you’re good,” he kindly replied. I love the Scottish people!

Bob and I set out on what by now we realized was not a walk but a hike. That was our first mistake of the trip. Bob had days of golfing ahead of him and I am not exactly in fighting shape, but off we went up the hill. It was a lesser incline than the one our son took, but it would do me in.

That didn’t register with me while walking because I was so taken in by the spectacular views. Plus, when I travel, I get this weird energy/adrenaline which will circumvent my otherwise extremely logical mind, and I will push myself without even knowing that I am. Later I will realize it, and it will be too late, but most of the time, it will have been worth it.

Winston loves to find a high spot and enjoy the view.

Every time I’d think we were near the top, up we’d go again. It was so pretty I barely noticed my knees shaking.

A summer day in Scotland

As we drove out of Edinburgh, we passed the castle up on the hill. We also spotted groups of crazed Swifties dressed in pink and other regalia in anticipation of her concert which would be that evening. We got out of there just in time!

St Andrews was sleepy compared to Edinburgh, and that was fine with us.

We dined that Saturday night at Hams Hame across from the Old Course. The food was good, but the names of the dishes were even better. Where else can you find Tex Mex nachos and haggis bon-bons on the same menu?

After dinner we strolled around the town enjoying the beautiful ruins of St Andrews Cathedral and St Andrews Castle. St Andrews was the center of religious power in Scotland in the 1500s. At that time religious leaders Martin Luther, John Calvin, and John Knox were challenging the way people worshipped. This was the change from Catholic to Protestant beliefs, so this area is a part of the Reformation history. Scotland became a protestant country in 1560.

Cathedral ruins

Castle ruins

A violent and sobering part of Christian church history

On Sunday while the guys were golfing, Dacia, my daughter-in-law, and I trekked along the edge of the North Sea at St Andrews Bay.

I love the walls in the UK. On the right is a golf course. On the left is the North Sea.

After golf, we all enjoyed a traditional Sunday pub roast in downtown St Andrews at a restaurant called Forgan’s.

That was a highlight, but it is overshadowed by Jannettas Gelateria. St Andrews is a small town so all roads could lead to Jannettas, which they did for us two or three times. This was the best gelato west of Siena – better than some I had in Tuscany and that is really saying something considering we were just there in April!

They had the oft difficult to find banana gelato – my favorite. Slainte Mhath (cheers)!

St Andrews sunset from our hotel – approximately 9:45 PM. Good night sun.

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by Bonnie Anderson on July 19, 2024  •  Permalink
Posted in Europe, Family, The United Kingdom, Travel
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Posted by Bonnie Anderson on July 19, 2024

https://lifeonthelighterside.com/2024/07/19/scotland-eating-and-hiking-edition/

A Golfing We Will Go


Three generations of golfers

What a joy to see my golf-loving husband play golf with our son and grandsons at the place where golf was born. When our son, Jesse, first brought up the idea of a Scotland golf trip, it was a no-brainer. Except for already having a European vacation with three other couples planned for April and this golf trip was planned for June, there was not much to consider. We would make it happen. Sometimes you just seize the moment. We had six weeks between trips – just enough time for me to get over jetlag!

Bob was charged with planning the trip. Let me say, if you want to play golf at the Old Course at St Andrews, you need to book ahead and be ready for the stipulations which are enforced for golfers. First, book way ahead – maybe the year before. Bob booked these tee times last summer, and there were other hoops to jump through. In order to play the Old Course, you have to play one other course at St Andrews. You also must have a set handicap of 24. When those requirements are met, they are happy to welcome you and your money to their course.

Also, it is advisable, though not required, to have a caddy. This is important as sometimes you are driving blind, and the caddy is your course guide, like an ambassador of the course. For us, they were also entertaining.

There was one more major consideration, which crept up on us months after the trip was planned. In January, Bob had neck surgery – a fusion. He was not allowed to swing a club for three months, and it had been almost three months since he had been able to play before surgery. That had him wait until April 30 to get back in golfing shape – six weeks before leaving for Scotland. He was a patient patient and put in the time resting, but when the required wait was over, he morphed happily into training mode.

The week before our trip, he ventured out two days in a row. He nailed it. Nothing hurt more than you’d think it would for a guy his age. He was ready for the six rounds of golf that awaited him across the pond in Scotland. That would be six rounds in nine days, and they don’t allow carts over there.

If you know anything about the origins of golf, then you have likely heard of St Andrews. It is considered to be the home of golf, which was first played on the links at St Andrews way back in the early 15th century. The Scottish people are proud of their golf. They are responsible for many of the innovations that have shaped the game. According to http://www.thebackninegolf.com, the name golf came from the Dutch word “goff” or “gouff,” which meant “club.” Somewhere along the line, that strong Scottish dialect transformed the word to our present-day “golf.”

Jesse and Bob warming up

Okay, enough of the history, by now you know that playing at St Andrews is a big deal for a devout golfer. Even those who consider themselves duffers would like to walk this course. Yes, walk. Remember, there are no carts allowed. It is important to recognize that there are more than golfers and tagalongs like my daughter-in-law, Dacia, and I, who walked the course with our guys. There are people taking a stroll. It is almost as much a public park as it is a golf course.

For the life of me, I don’t know why one would take their walk on the course, even as lovely as it is. You are taking your life in your hands out there. There are signs posted to turn your back to the incoming shot and shield your head when you hear the word, “Fore” – kind of like the drills we had as kids in the 60s where you would get under your desk to avoid being destroyed by nuclear attack.

If your ball lands in this hazard, you are officially in Hell Bunker.

You often hear caddies yelling, “Fore,” in warning to beware of approaching golf balls – everyone doesn’t hit the green, you know! The first time I heard a group of caddies yelling, “Fore!” it took me back. There was palpable panic in their layered voices, and it was not easy to discern from where the ball was coming. We heard the shouts at least a dozen times. I guess it’s exhilarating unless you get hit by an errant ball.

Speaking of exhilarating, I was so happy to walk the course with our foursome of Bob, our son Jesse, and teenage grandsons Manning and Winston, who consistently give Bob and Jesse a run for their money. The four of them have played together on many courses but none have the significance and history of this one.  I loved watching Bob with his boys. It was truly moving to me, and every time I talk about it, I tear up. Such a privilege. Thanks to God for allowing it!

Dacia and I walked along the 20,000 steps with them and took it all in – including about 150 pictures, only a few of which I’ll share with you. We were there for the history, hazards, short putts, long putts, missed putts, great drives, and one ball lost in a stream. It was all magic.

Bob said those wispy grasses grabbed the club and made it tough to get out, but Winston had no trouble.

Bob and his caddy planning an exit strategy from the rough.

The caddies couldn’t have been paired better. Bob’s was a friendly guy, probably approaching 60, who has a handicap of 4.5. He did mention that it had been 2-3, but he was okay with it being higher as that gave him more opportunities to win money when he played with his friends. Jesse’s caddy was likely in his mid-40s and kind of a funny smarty pants but also very friendly. He joked with Jesse as he guided him through the course. The boys both had college students. All four of them were excellent.

Jesse and his caddy

The culmination of the round began on Hole 17 as they had to drive their balls over a roof, which is just what you do and has always been done.

Golfers are supposed to drive their shot over the black roof. There is evidence of balls falling short!

Then the required picture on the Swilcan Bridge over to the 18th green. The bridge was built about 700 years ago to help get livestock over the stream. You can still see markers dividing golf and livestock areas.

We were there!

Manning almost on the green

Winston and his caddy

Jesse getting ready to drive

My sweetie!

As we approached the 18th hole, the fences along the border of the course were lined with spectators. Being watched so closely by groups of men leaning on the fence, swigging their whiskey or beer could be a wee bit daunting. Thankfully, all our guys made great drives, got to the green and either parred or birdied. These were long putts, so the crowd went wild when they made them!

Smiles and congratulations all around.

Manning won the day!

Aye, it was a perfect day. It left us adults a wee bit puggled (tired out), but the kids were fine. Surely ’twas a memorable and typically cool and windy day of golf in Scotland! Thankful we could be there together.

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by Bonnie Anderson on July 2, 2024  •  Permalink
Posted in Europe, Family, Travel
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Posted by Bonnie Anderson on July 2, 2024

https://lifeonthelighterside.com/2024/07/02/a-golfing-we-will-go/

Halloween Hypocrisy

One of the many ways that I’ve probably damaged my kids has to do with Halloween. When I was a kid growing up in Maryland, I liked it quite a lot, unless it was cold, and my mom made me wear a jacket over my costume. I would have rather frozen to death than wear a coat. What was she thinking?

In those days, Halloween involved going through our own neighborhood and knocking on the doors of people we knew. Mrs. Harrington was my favorite as she would give out home-made, hand-decorated cookies. You could not get away with that kind of love in today’s climate. One time as I went through my bounty, I discovered that, like Charlie Brown, I had received a rock – and not the kind of rock that I enjoy today. Unlike him, though, I had plenty of candy. Sometimes it even lasted until Christmas!

Fast forward to having children of my own. By this time, I had become a Christian and was increasingly sensitive to the darkness of Halloween. It seemed the days of mostly cute and fun costumes had shifted to an abundance of costumes and billboards that emphasized evil and scariness. I hated taking our kids out to restaurants and stores where the decorations were scary. I didn’t like subjecting them to that.

When our oldest two were little, we took them trick or treating (one time, as far as I can remember). They donned store-bought costumes and those horrible plastic masks that make your face sweat, and we hit a few houses. It didn’t seem like a big deal, but every year I grew more uncomfortable with it. I didn’t like frightening creatures coming to our front door either. How does one protect their children from all of this darkness? That was our dilemma, and let me tell you, we didn’t handle it particularly well.

Who are those masked children?

We couldn’t take the kids out of the house to avoid the unknown quantities arriving at our front door, because there were so many everywhere. In my head, it was like a zombie apocalypse married Freddy Krueger – a regular nightmare for me. Of course, I may have been a tad over dramatic. I knew that the Bible taught to abstain from all forms of evil, but parts of Halloween were cute – though those parts weren’t as prevalent anymore, plus I wasn’t sure that should matter. So, every year we wrestled in our minds with what to do. One year we even turned on the sprinklers thinking that would keep things quiet, but our neighbor called and told us they were on. She thought it was by accident instead of by design. Sigh.

My best-ever Halloween involved our small group from our church gathering at our house for an evangelistic outreach for our neighborhood. We shoved all our furniture to one side of the house and invited the neighborhood in for a magic show. My dad, who was a magician, came and performed for the kids (and their parents). He had a unique way of weaving the gospel story into his show. Also, that night it rained, so we were packed to the gills.

So, sorry kids. I hope this is the worst way we’ve messed you up. Some of you have pointed out that it was okay for us to take grandchildren around, but you were denied the pleasure. Yep, you are not wrong; that’s inconsistent, too. Though, that’s really on the parents, not the grandparents. We were simply serving while remaining wishy-washy on our Halloween stance.

This was the year that our daughter and her family were briefly living with us while getting ready to move out-of-state. Bob and I had purchased a Hashtag the Bear costume for a church program and Bob put it to use to hang out with the grandkids as they wandered our neighborhood on what may have been the hottest October 31st ever.

I know that most, if not all our kids and their families, like to participate in Halloween trick-or-treating. Even though I have no credibility in this area, I’ll still offer advice to try to keep the kids more focused on Jesus every day and less influenced by the things of this world, including Halloween. And do what your conscience allows. No guilt.

To sum things up: I don’t like Halloween. I was sometimes an inconsistent though well-meaning parent who in a lot of ways was growing right alongside our children. Grandparenting is easier. Now I can buy all the candy we want and get it 70 percent off the day after Halloween. The prices are much less scary.

1 Comment
by Bonnie Anderson on October 26, 2023  •  Permalink
Posted in Faith, Family, grandchildren, Holidays
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Posted by Bonnie Anderson on October 26, 2023

https://lifeonthelighterside.com/2023/10/26/halloween-hypocrisy/

The Letter Tray

You never know what you’ll bring home from traveling. I’m not talking about the occasional cold or COVID, which we have brought home on a few occasions. I’m talking about memories, which tend to inevitably fade or morph a bit over time. It helps to recount those stories to keep from losing them altogether. We also bring home journals, photographs, and souvenirs, all in an effort to remember. It has been our practice to collect small items which we can display in a printers letter tray which has hung on our wall for longer than I can remember. At least it did until two years ago when we turned our home office into a guest room. At that point the letter tray was stuffed into a closet and all its contents wrapped and placed into a box.

You might not think it from my prior statement, but this letter tray is special to us. It was part of my father-in-law’s printing business, which was housed in their basement in Maryland. It’s probably an antique – maybe not when he bought it though. When he stopped using the trays, he gave a few of them to us. We kept one and gave a couple of them to friends. That brings me to our Scandinavian cruise which we took in July with two of those friends, Mike and Moggie.

As Moggie and I perused the Scandinavian shops, she pointed out a few things that would fit in the letter tray. Apparently, I had stuffed the memory of it in the closet with the tray itself; but Moggie awakened the idea of filling it anew with things from this trip. We had a great time together searching out small items. By the time we got home, I had quite the collection.

As we went through our stash of stuff, I showed Bob all the treasures which would go in the letter tray. He was very (read – moderately) excited and asked me where I would like to hang the tray and did I even know where it was. Of course, I knew, I told him. I was pretty sure anyway.

I would not put it in the guest room because some of our guests are young and it would be too tempting for them to completely rearrange things and/or break them in the process. The hallway seemed to be the right place. Yes, the hall. Only thing, I’ve been wanting to repaint the hall. We have been in our house for eight years now and down that hall we had hung a decent number of pictures of our kids growing up. I was ready to make the change from these 30- to 40-year-old pictures, which was kind of a big deal for me.

To be clear, I don’t paint. I have tried that in the past and I am stunningly bad at it. So bad that it is far easier for Bob to paint than it would be for him to fix the mess that I would make with a paint brush and live with me while I attempted the job. He was happy to paint the hall, but the rest was on me. I was fine with that arrangement.

I took down the pictures – over 20 of them. Most of them were 8×10. I didn’t want to rehang them, but I didn’t want to pitch them either. A trip to Hobby Lobby yielded a photo album with pages I could slip my 8x10s into without having to agonize over them. One larger picture I simply photographed with my phone and then threw it away. I was on a roll!

I chose my favorite paint color – Universal Khaki, aka taupe. By now the paint job had grown into our foyer area, but in a couple of days, Bob had it looking great. It took me two weeks to finish my part. We had company coming in and I couldn’t have my dining room looking like this when they arrived. That gave me a helpful deadline.

I wanted fresh pictures on display. The section of the foyer wall with our grandchildren’s pictures was also pitifully dated, so that had to change. My idea was to hang a variety of pictures which would warm my heart when I looked at them. They didn’t have to be professional quality. They just had to make me smile and there had to be a representation of all of our kids and grands.

On one of my many trips to Hobby Lobby, I took the original artwork for the cover of my book, Always Look for the Magic. They were very helpful in picking out a mat and the perfect frame to display this prize that had been in my drawer for five years.

(If you’d like to order my book, here is a link)

In addition to trips to Home Goods to buy new frames, I also pulled out several frames which I had purchased over the years with the good intentions of filling them with pictures. Some of these frames had made the move from our old house and I decided it was use them or lose them. So, while I was at it, I made collages of Bob and me in our travels for our bedroom walls.

In another closet were shelves that a few years ago Bob and our friend, Al, had fixed up for me to display some of the painted rocks from the Lake Apopka Wildlife Drive. Somehow, I remembered them and now they are part of my hallway display. After all was said and done, I had redone pictures in seven rooms in our house.

When the grandkids came to visit, they all liked finding themselves on display down the hallways, even if they didn’t necessarily love the photo choices I made. I asked them which ones they didn’t like and assured them with a smile that I would not be making any changes for another eight years at least. They really didn’t mind. They are the best.

One of the toughest parts of this project was getting the letter tray, which started the entire process, hung in the proper place. Funny thing, after all the painting, shopping, agonizing, and framing, it seemed the hall was not the best place for it. I ended up hanging it in the living room. Bob didn’t say a word.

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by Bonnie Anderson on October 12, 2023  •  Permalink
Posted in Family, grandchildren, Travel
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Posted by Bonnie Anderson on October 12, 2023

https://lifeonthelighterside.com/2023/10/12/the-letter-tray/

Why Can’t I Whistle?

Oh, the hours that I have spent contemplating my lack of whistling ability! Oh, the lamenting!

I have literally spent no time grieving over this. Why bother? I have resolved that I missed the whistle gene, and that’s okay. Except for birding…

I would love to whistle like the songbirds that visit my feeder, but long ago I ditched that thought. I can do a decent barred owl, but that doesn’t involve whistling. My red-shouldered hawk is not too shabby, but that’s only because it’s more like a shriek – that I can do.

That is the backstory to help you understand the challenges a recent gift has afforded me. For my birthday last month, my son, Joe, gave me a book and asked if I would like to read it together. Joe likes birds like I do, so he thought of me when he discovered Conversations with Birds – The Metaphysics of Bird and Human Communication by Alan Powers.

It may be helpful for you to know that Joe is a philosophy professor. I told Joe that I loved the idea. The title had something for me – conversations with birds, and something for him – metaphysics.

It is a running joke with me, myself, and I that I cannot understand the true meaning of the word metaphysics. I asked Joe if, after finishing this book, would that change. He was confident that it would not. He gets me.

We plunged in. Our first goal was to go through chapters one and two. Chapter One is Basic Bird, with a minor emphasis on the mourning dove. Chapter Two gets down to business – The Year of the Oriole. That is ironic since the baseball team of the same name, which is my team, is having their best year in recent history, a fact that I mentioned to Joe and one of the ways that I seem to stray off topic.

Joe is good at stretching me, so I was prepared to look up words as I read. I was not prepared for the number of musical terms the author uses. And I was taken aback on Page One when he stated, “Now we advance to whistling. Start with the minor third, usually descending, like the first two notes of our national anthem…”

I texted Joe with a reminder that I can’t whistle. This is something that hasn’t held me back in life and I wondered if it would hold me back as we read this book. As I said, I’m reconciled to the fact that I’m a non-whistler. He assured me that I would be fine.

Just in case, I googled “why can’t I whistle?”

Google excels at responding to simplicity in their searches. I was immediately linked to vox.com where on 8/13/15, Joseph Stromberg wrote an in-depth article including techniques to practice. In no time flat, I began to whistle. I won’t be entering any competitions. But, there is hope for this 67-year-old. Evidently you can teach an old older person a new trick.

You might be expecting me to share a video of me whistling. Well, don’t hold your breath. I’m pretty transparent with my writing, but at this point, I’m just a baby whistler!

I will share this video of a high-achieving whistler instead. Enjoy!

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by Bonnie Anderson on June 29, 2023  •  Permalink
Posted in Birding, Family, Stuff I Go Through
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Posted by Bonnie Anderson on June 29, 2023

https://lifeonthelighterside.com/2023/06/29/why-cant-i-whistle/

Thank you, Klaus Teuber

The Settlers of Catan opened a new era of game play for my family. This completely addictive game hit the market in 1995. My family discovered it in the early 2000s. It is a strategy board game, but it does involve dice, so the luck of the roll is a factor. Part of the genius of the game is that you are involved not only during your turn but in everyone’s turn. Placement of initial settlements at the beginning of the game is strategic. That’s where probability comes in as you make placements on numbers 2-12 and receive resource cards when your numbers roll.

Klaus Teuber is the dental technician, turned brilliant game creator, who gave the world Catan. Thank you, Klaus, for teaching us to build roads, make settlements, and upgrade them to cities, all in the name of becoming the Lord of Catan (winner, the person who first acquires ten points). You have given us hours and hours of fun and frustration, but mostly fun.

On April 1, Klaus Teuber passed away at the age of 70. This post is dedicated to him.

When Catan first came out, it was hard to find. I remember ordering it from a game store. Since that time, Amazon has taken over the shopping world, and Catan is even available at Target.

I’m not saying I was ever fanatical about the game – I’ll leave that to my kids. I will tell you that we played so much we wore out the cards more than once. One year for my birthday, my kids gave me a special edition of the game, which I dubbed the precious. We have all the expansions and different editions, but the original is my favorite.

The Precious

I could never have imagined that I wouldn’t take every opportunity where three to six gamers were gathered to play this game, but something strange has happened in the last five years. We hardly ever play Catan anymore. Could it be that we simply played it too much? Did we wear out the fun?

Years earlier, our son, Scott, told us we killed it for him when we took it on a family vacation. Evidently playing 20 games over a long weekend is too much for some people. Scott and his next older brother Joe oversee introducing new games to our family. I’m not sure this is a position that they sought after, but they have their fingers on the pulse of whatever is new in the boardgame world.

Three or four years ago, Joe introduced us to Azul. Azul is a 3–4-person, abstract strategy board game. When I read those words from their website, I find it hard to believe how much I love this game. I had no idea it would become the new Catan for us. We have all but the first of the four versions of Azul. My favorites are Stained Glass of Sintra and Summer Pavilion. The latest edition, Queen’s Garden, has more twists in it and requires a lot more thought than Bob and I typically like to put into a board game. We only play it when the kids come to visit. That’s how we show them love.

If our entire family gathers, we have ten adults and eight grandchildren, most of whom are teenagers, so games for groups have become more important. Even though I hate sushi (yes, my feelings are that strong), I love Sushi Go Party. It’s a pick and pass card game and is great for anyone eight and up. Two to eight players can play, and it has relatively short rounds; plus it’s easy to learn.

Codenames is a go-to if we want to get everyone involved. Although it says it’s for 2-8+ players, I would never play with less than six. It’s for ages 14 and up, but our younger grandchildren (8 and 11) can hold their own because you divide into two teams. A round takes about 15 minutes. We usually play several rounds to give more people a chance to be spymasters, aka clue-givers, who try to get their teammates to figure the secret identities of 25 agents. That’s what the box says, but it’s really about guessing the word on the picture of the agent from the clues given by the spymasters without guessing the one word that is the kill word, which makes your team automatically lose the round. It’s fun and fast and involves a lot of discussion by those on the teams receiving the clues.

More recently, Scott introduced us to Cards Christians Like. As the box states, “It’s a party game but with convictions.” Four or more players ages eight and up is recommended, but we’ve played easily with ten or twelve. It takes about 45 minutes to play. Be prepared to laugh a lot. You can find it at cardschristianslike.com. It reminds me of Apples to Apples.

We were at our daughter’s house for Easter, and we needed a good six-player game. We pulled out Catan. It was like sitting by a cozy fire reading a good book. It has staying power – as long as you don’t play 20 times in a short period.

I’ll leave you with this picture from our 2021 Family Vacation. All 18 of us were together and this is what our gaming corner looked like. I think Joe and Scott were responsible for bringing most of these. We learned a few new games and played our favorites, too. Good times.

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by Bonnie Anderson on April 27, 2023  •  Permalink
Posted in Family, gaming
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Posted by Bonnie Anderson on April 27, 2023

https://lifeonthelighterside.com/2023/04/27/thank-you-klaus-teuber/

The Road to Christmas was Paved with Unusual Restaurants

It had been ages since we left Florida for Christmas but missing our grandchildren in Virginia was a force we could not fight. They are eight and four—more perfect ages of Christmas wonderment cannot be found. When Bob and I realized that the window of Christmas morning amazement through their young eyes is not going to be open much longer, we decided to venture north. North to the cold. North to the potential of snow. North to where you need socks every day. That is the pull of grandchildren.

Our other grands all lived close-by when they were young, so holidays were easy. This year we would celebrate four different days in order to encompass our whole family, beginning with the youngest grands and their parents on Christmas morning.

We headed north on I-95, which is always a treat. We chose to leave on the Wednesday before Christmas and take two days to drive there. We quickly discovered that we weren’t the only ones hitting the road. It was crazy crowded with a lot of stop-and-go. We reminisced about making the trip from Orlando to Maryland when we were raising our four kids. We would do it in one long shot just to avoid checking into a hotel. We have concluded that not only were we younger then, but there were less cars on the road – or is that our age talking? We can’t be sure.

We had a hotel reservation in Florence, SC, which should have been about a seven-hour trip. It took us ten. Side note: What is wrong with the South Carolina interstate road system? Everyone else has more than two lanes. Get with the program!

You never know what you will encounter on a road trip. We sure didn’t expect to find a Quincy’s Family Steakhouse across the highway from our South Carolina hotel. The last one in the Orlando area closed in the 1990s. Our memories of taking our children there were as sweet as honey butter, so resistance was futile. (Plus, they were the only open restaurant on the strip.) The big draw was their yeast rolls. I swear mouth memory clicked in as soon as I saw their sign. As we parked our car, I began to salivate. Would they still have those fluffy sweet rolls and honey butter? Are the steaks still mediocre? Does my mouth have a memory? Enquiring minds and hungry tummies had to know.

It looked exactly like the Florida ones of 30 years ago.

Quincy’s was a welcome beacon in Florence, which we guessed was a city that was on nobody’s foodie travel list. It was a restaurant that time and HGTV had forgotten. I was giddy with nostalgic delight.

The crowd was light, and technically not a crowd.

They advertised a Wednesday special, steak strips and peppers and onions, but they were out of it. The only steak they had was a ribeye, so that’s what I got. It was the skinniest ribeye that I had ever seen, but you pour A-1 Sauce on it, and you’ve really got something. A mouth full of memories. I haven’t poured sauce on a steak in years, but here in Florence, it was the right thing to do. So when in Rome, or Florence, ask for the A-1.

Yummy yeast rolls – worth it!

I think we beat the crowd or perhaps the crowd had come and gone and eaten most of the steaks before we arrived. Either way, we had a blast—a blast from the past—and great yeast rolls and a skinny steak. The staff was friendly in that Southern way that you can’t help but love, no matter how much you had to smother your steak in A-1.

That night as we slept in our warm hotel bed, the sky opened up and rain came down in torrents, which continued for the first five hours of our drive. We were grateful when it gave way to a light rain, but it turned our 5.5 hour trip into 8 hours. But four or five hours along the way came another restaurant surprise just in time for lunch.

We got off the road at Colonial Heights, VA, ready for fast food and needing to get out of the car. Chick-fil-A was out of the question. The line was looped around the building and intersecting in three different points with Walmart pre-Christmas crowds. This was far more dangerous than driving the interstate in rain.

We exited that line fast, and that’s when we saw it—another beacon of light in the form of fast-food delight. Arby’s. And not just your regular, run-of-the-mill Arby’s—the world’s largest Arby’s!

There was plenty of parking and practically no line inside, begging the question, why is everyone at Chick-fil-A when you can sit in a ski lodge setting with a hot roast beef sandwich? Granted, we waited in the short line nearly as long as we usually wait at the Chick-fil-A, but why wouldn’t we?

Check out the size of the dining room. This is only part of it.

Bob waiting in a short line that probably took as long as the Chick-fil-A line. But the roast beef and curly fries were yummy.

Yes, they even have a fire place. All us chilly Floridians wished it was burning.

Finally we reached our destination and were reunited with our son and his family. Warm hugs were all we needed at that point, that is until the temperatures plummeted and the pipes froze and I remembered why we moved to Florida. I had not experienced single digit temperatures in a very long time, not to mention the -15-degree wind-chill factor, which kept me from entertaining the idea of leaving their house. I’m pretty sure I went into a hibernation stupor that was only relieved by my son and sweet daughter-in-law providing me with a wearable blanket for the day and an electric blanket for night.

But it was worth it to see those faces Christmas morning.

We are so blessed with our children and their excellent choices for spouses and amazing children, but maybe next Christmas they can come to Florida.

The End

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by Bonnie Anderson on February 9, 2023  •  Permalink
Posted in Family, grandchildren, Holidays, Travel
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Posted by Bonnie Anderson on February 9, 2023

https://lifeonthelighterside.com/2023/02/09/the-road-to-christmas-was-paved-with-unusual-restaurants/

Heads Will Roll

I did not handle it well when I saw Joe Theisman’s head roll on the ground and settle under my car. I was reminded of the Redskin’s game back in 1985 where Joe had his career-ending injury. As Bob has always been a Redskin fan, I was subjected to watching them play whenever they were televised. (I’m not sure if he worked that into our vows, but I was okay with it.) I wish I had gone out for a walk that day. I vividly remember seeing the bone break in Joe’s leg. It was horrific. Lawrence Taylor, who tackled him, was the first on his feet to vehemently jester for help. I’ve never seen a player as distraught as LT.

But this isn’t about the human Joe Theisman; it’s about my Hallmark ornament Joe Theisman.

It all began on a rare Monday full of motivation to get a few things done around the house – specifically, window washing. The end of Hurricane season was nearing but all eyes remained on the tropics as Hurricane Nicole was eying Florida. The skies were cloudy, so Bob and I adjusted our plans from working in the yard (probably a waste of time with a storm approaching) to the windows. I was inside and he was outside. Side note: I love him being retired!

We started out together but his job takes longer, moving the hose around and such. When I finished I kept on going to my mom’s bedroom and deep-cleaned it. Shoving furniture around and wiping baseboards, vacuuming as far underneath things as I could reach, and finishing up with damp mopping the floor. As I wandered through the house fetching the things I needed, I could hear the water running outside as Bob was finishing up. I went into the laundry room and noticed the floor was wet. “Oh, Bob,” I muttered to myself, figuring he had blasted the door with the hose in an effort to clean it. I threw a towel down and went into the garage, which was also wet. At that point I found Bob and told him we had a problem. He was in the middle of something and would be with me in a minute.

I went back down the hall to the laundry room, which by then had a small current of water flowing in it. I ran and told Bob he needed to shut off the water NOW, all the while not remembering that I know how to shut off the water. That’s how used to Bob taking care of things that I am. Anyway, I walked through the puddle of the guest bathroom into the adjoining bedroom, which was very wet, and into the walk-in closet which had become a lake. Of course, lakes in Florida are not like lakes up north. A big puddle might be referred to as a lake down here. Whatever we chose to call it, there was a lot of water to deal with.

The clean-up effort began just as I was ready to stop doing chores and put my feet up. I will forever be leery of motivation to clean! As it turned out, we had a leak under our slab so we spent a lot of time with our plumber that week.

All that being said, it was the clean-up process that led to the trickle-down effect of putting up our Christmas tree two weeks before Thanksgiving. The tree was in a box standing in our garage in an area that was now a small pond. I moved it away and laid it on its side to dry out. It hadn’t been in water long, but when it was time to put things back in their rightful place, we had the decision to stand it back up and wonder if it was completely dry or put it up in our living room, thus giving the box adequate time to really dry out. So, there you go – I began decorating the tree as Hurricane Nicole made landfall on our poor East Coast. Weirdest hurricane watch ever!

As per usual, Bob climbed the ladder and handed down the boxes full of decorations which are stored on a high shelf in our garage. I guess he thought he had a good grip on one as he dangled it from the ladder for me to retrieve. The only problem was I wasn’t there and his grip was waning. The box came crashing down and popped open spilling some of the contents onto the floor, including Joe Theisman, who was at one beheaded.

I’d like to tell you that I was gracious to Bob, but that would be a lie. I’ll spare you the details, but let’s just say that Joe wasn’t the only one who was in trouble that day. The irony of my anger while decorating for the celebration of the birth of The Prince of Peace did not escape me. The pettiness of it was humbling. I’m thankful for forgiveness.

I was able to pop Joe’s head back on and once again he has a special place on our Christmas tree. Plus, Bob and I moved past the beheading and happily went about our day a little more aware of how fragile life can be – in more ways than one.

Be on the lookout for those things that can rob you of your joy during this time where Joy to the World is practically the theme song! I hope you have a wonderful Christmas! I’ll be back in 2023.

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by Bonnie Anderson on December 15, 2022  •  Permalink
Posted in Faith, Family, Florida Living, Holidays
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Posted by Bonnie Anderson on December 15, 2022

https://lifeonthelighterside.com/2022/12/15/heads-will-roll/

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