Susan's Scribblings the Blog

A writer from the Philadelphia area shares the week online.
Susan's Scribblings the Blog
  • Who the Heck is Kayewer?
  • Monthly Archives: June 2024

    • On the House Front

      Posted at 3:17 pm by kayewer, on June 29, 2024

      For most people it’s important to have the front door to the home be inviting and attractive. It doesn’t matter if your front door is to a house or apartment, since it represents the first impression of where you live or who you are.

      Many of today’s homes have accessories such as plants, flags or signage such as a vertical “Welcome” wooden sign (or, for those who like privacy, “No solicitation”). The doormat may say “Welcome” or “Go Away,” depending on the openness of the owners. Some verbiage may indicate the home has pets or doesn’t welcome footwear inside. Plants may be hanging vines or fake greenery. Flags may support a cause or simply pay homage to the country.

      I recently added a goose to my front step.

      Those of us of a certain age have probably received catalogs from Miles Kimball. That place has everything for the homeowner who likes to be practical, colorful or well-stocked. The catalog has been home to a large plastic goose decoration for a long time, and I finally caved in and bought one.

      The decoration apparently has Midwestern origins, and has grown into a world of its own, called Gaggleville. You can find it easily online. Go ahead, and invite the kids. Then be sure to come back here for the rest of the story.

      Instead of the pink flamingoes of many home fronts, the porch goose (originally made of concrete) could stand up to the abusive weather such as high winds, rain and snow. They didn’t tip over, spin or fly off like a cow in a twister.

      The modern version is a lightweight blow mold and designed to be filled with sand. I went to the hardware store and had to sheepishly explain to the employee what I needed. The bag of sand weighed about the same as a fourth grader, but I managed to haul the bag home and begin the task of filling my new front step mascot with the stuff, then set it up in front of the door as a happy-go-lucky greeter that says “Welcome” and not “Go Away.” No vertical signage needed.

      Also unique compared to a garden gnome.

      In addition, the goose has a personality and requires costumes. I ordered a few varieties to make the occasions stand out, such as a raincoat, a patriotic suit for federal holidays, and a touristy outfit for summer. We’ll see how these hold up under the summer heat and pounding winds of a typical Eastern rainy season.

      I have decided not to assign a gender to my goose, allowing the little feathered friend to be a neutral symbol of lighthearted joy, as well as a tribute to one of the simpler signs of capitalism applied in a positive way. Nobody can fault a simple goose dressed up like a zinc-nosed tourist, right?

      Maybe I made the decision because it’s still Pride Month? Not sure.

      The goose sits in the opposite corner from where my door opens, so there is plenty of room to shine and no interference with comings and goings. My new porch goose will simply stand tall and look happy as can be in any kind of weather.

      Oh gee, I just realized it’s not a Canada goose. I may need to find it a winter coat!

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    • It’s a Feet

      Posted at 3:46 pm by kayewer, on June 22, 2024

      Do we truly take the time to appreciate our feet? If we were to take a deep dive into the fascinating world of pedal lore (“pedal” being the technical term for those floor-hugging appendages), we might find some interesting facts are to be found.

      If you’re a regular reader, you may be wondering where I’m going with this topic. There is something here for everybody, I assure you.

      Let’s go over some quick but boring stuff first: the word “foot” has old English, German, Saxon and other European roots. The foot itself contains 26 bones and 33 joints, and on average a male foot is about 26.3 cm long (or 10 1/3 inches). The most common fetish is that for the human foot.

      The foot takes on the task of helping us walk. They take on our weight as we locomote through life. We buy shoes to make them comfortable. Some women, howe3ver, endure discomfort to buy shoes that simply look good but cause immeasurable pain. Not me. I prefer comfort, but there are plenty of styles out there to flatter any foot and wallet.

      We also protect our feet with socks and hosiery, and we have beauticians trim and polish our toenails. At least some of us do. I have never indulged in a mani-pedi, but I did have a manicure. Just one. Made me too self-conscious about damage (I felt self-conscious about bowling with them) to return for more.

      Occasionally a minor change to the footwear routine can alter how our feet work for us. Last year I went to the shore with my comfortable sandals, but one pair turned on me and subjected me to a huge blister, topping it off with savaged ankles. I never saw it coming; nothing happened back at home. But isn’t that the way of things, to suddenly not work after constant reliability.

      This year I went to the shore with different sandals and back-up hosiery as well as bandages for any emergency. At least my tootsies didn’t disappoint. The straps which had been worry-free for ages suddenly decided to cut into the tops of my toes, leaving me with cuts in three places.

      How did I discover this? I took the sandals off at the edge of the tide before dipping my feet in the water. Nothing like the icy, and salty, Atlantic Ocean to jolt the senses when washing over open wounds and cause an immediate reaction. Fortunately I was facing into the roar of the waves, so nobody heard my inhuman howl of discomfort.

      When your feet hurt, you’re in for some serious inconvenience. The ancient specialists in torture knew this well, with such brutal devices as bamboo splinters under the toenails, crippling with blows and piercing implements, or having the feet set upon by insects or rodents.

      In Japan, women endured a painful tradition of foot binding, disfiguring the foot to make it smaller and more appealing by societal standards. That is a Cinderella story, indeed! Remember that in the original fairy tale, the evil stepsisters mangled their own feet hoping to fit into a slipper. I guess poor Ella had a rare shoe size in those days. And shoes weren’t customized for wide or narrow feet.

      Our oldest folk might recall that for a while, shoes used to be sized by length and by the heel (as well as the foot) width. This practice went away some time ago. Still, shopping for shoes is a task which takes time and patience to be done correctly. Shoe stores still exist which measure your feet (in the US, with the always intriguing Brannock device) to give you the best fit, so pain and discomfort should be nearly zero.

      Life, of course, puts our feet through some torture every day, anyway.

      I may never win the battle of shore feet, but I’m sure going to keep trying. Now I simply need to give my cuts time to heel. . . .heal. Meanwhile, I will toe. . . .tow the mark.

      Told you there would be something for everybody. Even bad jokes. But no footnotes.

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    • Con Graduations

      Posted at 5:03 pm by kayewer, on June 15, 2024

      The month of June is graduation season for high schools. The parents of these newly minted young adults are usually happy that twelve years of education (not to mention day care and pre-k) is over. Their sons and daughters likely have driver licenses and a more cemented sense of self, ready to take on secondary studies at college or specialty trade schools away from the home environment.

      The big question is how much today’s graduates really know. Some say that today’s teenagers are more educated in deception than decimals. They leave senior year carrying a phone filled with meaningless babble and a mind still devoid of basic knowledge. Gone are the basics of home economics and auto shop, replaced by test-centric instruction on how to answer mandated examinations designed to actually measure student knowledge.

      Nine out of ten students pass the time engaged in their cell phones, according to recent studies. Also, less than 20% of teens admit to reading books, choosing social media instead. Cursive writing is becoming lost in the maze of other more exciting (and less useful) courses. Job applicants do not come into the workforce with a signature; in fact, many have had no need to use a writing implement in years and don’t know how to write by hand.

      Social media, in the meantime, has become a wasteland of poor grammar, spelling and punctuation, as well as a dumping ground for questions which should have been answered over twelve years of learning. We shake our heads every time somebody of a certain younger age brings up flat earth theory or a historical event which they believe didn’t truly happen.

      These are the future of our world, charged with bringing up the next generations and caring for the older ones that are dying out, such as the World War II veterans who are leaving us faster each day as they age into their late 90s.

      Why bring up paragraph after paragraph of doom and gloom? Because it is a warning that, particularly in the past decade, we have failed our children. We need to make the unpopular decision and not relegate schoolwork to test prep, and instead put experienced instructors with specialist credentials in front of the classroom to prepare these generations for fixing what is wrong and righting what has gone askew.

      They can’t do that if they can’t read their own diploma.

      Teachers also need support from their boards of education, and funding to place resources in their hands. Parents must work in cooperation with the faculty, rather than find reasons to thwart their efforts.

      Life is like that. You must sometimes take the way that people don’t like but need to endure for the sake of the future and our collective good.

      How we start that or get those who have already been affected up to speed would be difficult, but our colleges may be able to help repair the rips in the educational fabric by giving incoming classes some mandatory refresher courses which require work that is witnessed in real time and not produced with AI or other cheating resources.

      Good luck with it, class of 2024.

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    • Time for Summer Random Thoughts

      Posted at 3:53 pm by kayewer, on June 8, 2024

      This week I went to vote in the primary. One is required to vote party in the state primary, but that doesn’t mean it’s impossible to make a difference. The ballot included some regular gung-ho party choices, along with some new angles on party ethics from new voices. The ballots were paper and considered a much more secure way to vote. I was declared the twenty-first person to come in that day. We’re talking late afternoon with polls scheduled to close within little more than an hour. It made me feel like nobody cared about the outcome, and it does matter.

          2. Over last weekend, a town held their annual festival, with a wonderful drone show scheduled for the evening. Before it got started, however, gangs of teenagers, many brought in by car by parent drivers, broke out in massive fights. The show was cut short due to the issues caused by the teens, many of whom hid behind hoodies. A crowd destroyed a supermarket in town. A horse was allegedly assaulted. Not a sign or banner indicating a cause for which this was happening was ever raised. These are the future of society, unfortunately. Unruly and uncivilized, who would destroy their own town for fun. Sad, indeed.

          3. I posted a question (yes, we went over this last week) on social media about the famous painting by Michelangelo of the creation of Adam. The painting supposedly details the moment before God imparts life to the first man on our planet, with inches of air separating a holy finger from touching that of the mortal. It occurred to me that, if Adam wasn’t alive yet, how could he raise his hand to touch that of God? Nobody responded. As with many things that force a different train of thought, folks either go silent or lash out in various directions unrelated to the original inquiry. Michelangelo isn’t available for comment.

          4. The issue of handling my denim jeans came up this week. I had taken advantage of a great sale and bought three pairs. They specify to wash before wearing, which I dutifully did, and one pair need to be hemmed (even with the expense of a tailor, the deal was a great one). Some experts are saying not to wash jeans regularly. One expert says a stint in the freezer can refresh your favorite jeans between washings, which are recommended every six weeks or when confronted with an odor. If you wear them less frequently, fewer washings are your reward. They should be laundered in cold water and treated like delicates to prevent too much abuse in the machine’s cycling.

          5. A new spider invaded the news this week, because it is spreading into all parts of the country. Known as the Joro spider, it is a long-legged and colorful variety that feeds primarily on insects. It moves from place to place by creating web threads into the wind and “ballooning” like a person using a horizontal parachute. It does possess venom, but the creature is not designed and reluctant to bite us (its mouth parts are unlikely to pierce skin) and is harmless to humans and pets (except possibly those sensitive to stings). The media has been playing up the “venomous” part of the story, but their contribution to pest control by devouring insects make it less of an inconvenience.

          6. Among the many shows signing off during the summer, the host of “Wheel of Fortune,” Pat Sajak, retired on June 7 after decades of entertaining game show enthusiasts by announcing letters, cash totals and prizes. His final words on the show were sincere, laid-back and filled with gratitude for one of the most unusual jobs in the world. Vanna White will continue to work on the show with new cohost Ryan Seacrest starting in the fall, and fans of Sajak can watch reruns all summer. Still, it won’t be the same show without him. Happy retirement, Pat.

          7. My favorite vegetable is peas, but for health reasons I’m not supposed to eat them. However, I see that I can eat chickpeas. I suppose this means the others are dude peas.

          So much for this week. Dads and grads will be the subjects of the next week or two, then it’s the official start of summer. Hope it’s safe and wonderful for everybody.

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        1. The Unasked Questions

          Posted at 3:32 pm by kayewer, on June 1, 2024

          It’s a curiosity of life that, at some point in our lives, we go from asking questions to avoiding them. As we begin to use our gift of speech in early childhood, we point and ask, “What is that?” As we grow we start asking about deeper subjects such as why this is so and that is not so. Then, without warning, we become so set in what we feel we need to know that we stop asking anything. We also tend to shut ourselves off from answering other people’s questions.

          Anybody who uses social media can tell you that asking questions can cause the equivalent of a virtual battle. The words online are worse than hearing insults in the junior high gym locker room, and even when somebody speaks the truth, the gaslighting is incredibly volatile.

          As for displays of any support or pride in daily life, you may find yourself with hate speech spray painted on your house, or your pro-whatever flag ripped to pieces.

          To celebrate Pride Month–which is supposed to be a 30-day period to employ the ethics of allowing people to be what they feel is best for them–our town provided merchandise last year at the weekly farm markets (and carried over to this year). Some unfortunate purchasers did not see their signs displayed for long, as passersby would dismantle or even steal them. As if not having a symbol displayed is going to make what it stands for disappear.

          So my question is this: what difference does Pride Month make if you don’t celebrate it? You may celebrate Hanukkah and not Christmas or vice versa, and you may be of a religion that doesn’t celebrate birthdays while your neighbor does. Yet the world continues to turn 24 hours at a time without any issues. LGBTQ people have existed since time immemorial; we just call it LGBTQ these days.

          Another example: a video I watched recently featured a woman who suffered from an infection after getting a body piercing. I dared to ask what, in general, is the reason a person decides to get metal put through some part of their bodies, and you would have thought I broke a societal taboo. Some of the responses that blasted into my inbox said, “because it’s my body and I can,” or “because I like to.” Some of the most notorious criminals committed their acts because they chose to or liked to as well, but it doesn’t answer the truth behind such a decision.

          For example, I ordered a dozen sandal foot knee high pairs of hosiery. Even though many people who wear sandals choose not to put on any stockings or socks, I prefer the additional barrier of fabric between my now exposed toes and the outside world. The pavements and parking lots are full of leftover animal droppings, bugs, chemicals, human spittle and countless other pathogens that I want to keep off my flesh. That is the longer answer I was hoping to receive regarding piercings, since I have zero.

          Instead of a logical explanation of the process by which a person decides to impale their skin with clunky bits of (supposed) decoration, I actually received a reply questioning my mental capabilities (and not from one licensed to make such accusations). I also received a few smatterings of “IYKYK” (if you know, you know) copout responses peppered in to make the entire adventure distasteful.

          Years ago, after an item appeared about a particular doctor performing invasions of patients’ privacy (in short, think examining an arm when the problem is in the leg), I posed a question in a forum asking why we are not better informing our young adults about their bodies and what each part does, to inform them against acquiescing to such actions. The respondents seemed ready to burn me at the stake, though not one of them would openly come out and say they feel that human beings should remain ignorant of their own bodies, I was condemned for bringing up the notion of education.

          Will I stop asking questions? Never. I cannot live in a world of ignorance or denial. If I learn something useful, I pass it on. If I learn something unusual about a person I’ve known for some time, I can let it be: it never mattered before I learned it, so what’s the difference now?

          And if I’m a geek for wearing hosiery with my sandals, I’m letting the geek flag fly.

          Along with my Pride Week flag. And the American flag.

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          Eden's avatarEden on Getting the Message
          Eden's avatarEden on The Unasked Questions
          Eden's avatarEden on And Her Shoes Were #9
          Eden's avatarEden on The Poison Field
          Eden's avatarEden on Final Tally

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