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?
  • Author Archives: kayewer

    • The Whole Grain

      Posted at 5:08 pm by kayewer, on October 2, 2021

      With seeds or without seeds, double wrapped or single? Twist tie or one of those funny little tags with a slot in it? Looking for a new loaf of bread is not just about the product itself, but how it’s presented. I’m not totally sure if I shouldn’t just stick with the bread I have already been using.

      The choices are too many; even when you look at the selection other countries have, they’re blown away by how many different breads we have. I recently saw an article containing questions about whether we actually have entire supermarket aisles devoted to cereal, or if that’s just in the movies? I hate to tell them, but I think the bread aisle is second only to the cereal aisle; at the local Acme, one is two thirds of an aisle, and the other has the whole side to itself. That’s without even looking at the frozen food.

      The reason I’m looking at bread is that my doctor told me my carb and sugar intake needs adjusting. The bread I’ve been eating is 100 percent whole grain wheat and comes with an inner and outer wrapper for freshness. It also has seeds, which seems to be the thing to do today: decorate your bread.

      My first alternative was something called Dave’s Killer Bread. Reviews supposedly say it’s healthy. I found it a bit denser and seedier than my original choice. They have two varieties of seeded breads: “Good Seed” and one which boasts 21 grains. Unfortunately one cannot choose which grains to eat, so I suppose my body would just do it for me in my digestive tract. Also, I must remember that, if it contains poppy seeds, I should follow that old wives’ advice and not go for a drug test.

      I don’t see as much white bread on shelves lately, possibly due to supply and demand problems, or due to changing health concerns. When I was a kid, the two big breads were Wonder and Stroehmann’s. One featured colorful dots, and the other a kindly looking grandpa who seemed happy to spend endless hours standing watch over bread ovens.

      Those days are over. Since I became an undeniably senior adult, I even put my burgers on whole wheat buns. One time I couldn’t find any and bought brioche as a treat. You know you’re having a rough time when upgrading your hamburger bun excites you, but it did add to the experience.

      After finishing up Dave’s brand of bread, which didn’t kill me, I decided to scour the shelves for some more choices before I make up my mind. I have a list, thoughtfully compiled by medical sources, of healthy breads to try. To help move the process along, I also stocked up on peanut butter and am cooking up some spaghetti, which will require bread for dunking sauce (or gravy).

      The birds may also take to some killer leftovers.

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    • Is Bigger Better?

      Posted at 4:54 pm by kayewer, on September 25, 2021

      I saw an advertisement on social media for a giant blanket, offered by Big Blanket Company. It’s ten feet by ten feet, prices start at $160 and go up to over $200 for denser models. That’s one big blanket. It would hold two of me at least, and still have some fabric dragging.

      When you look at the amazing amount of stuff available for sale online, I’m amazed we haven’t merchandised ourselves off of our own planet by now. The biggest problem with global commerce is that everything seems to be non-reusable or recyclable. The volume of discarded clothing alone is enough to make a Mount Fuji out of it all at least twice, yet fashion, rather than practicality, dictates replacing your wardrobe annually. Whatever happened to classic pieces that lasted decades?

      The idea of reclaiming used stuff seems destined for those willing to take the time to do the work on it. Often it’s folks who have the time, such as people who don’t have a job or one that doesn’t pay all the bills, who create their own lifestyles from the casual discards of others. Imagine if the Big Blanket Company made ten blankets for new mothers with infants and empty wallets, or even five regular ones for homeless shelters instead? Someday that ten foot blanket will go into the charity bin, and maybe wind up becoming a makeshift shelter for some poor man sleeping over a street vent.

      My recent big steal bargain at the grocery got me some huge boxes of cereal, but they don’t fit in cabinets which were originally built for standard boxes. Our stuff is growing, and so are we, proving that bigger things don’t always make sense. My being smaller would make sense, too, if more food came in single servings, instead of a month’s supply.

      I would be happy with just a blanket I can use on my new mattress which won’t weigh a ton, washes easily and doesn’t discolor like the last one I bought: it came from a trusted manufacturer, but they may be using lesser quality dyes. Which is another flaw in commerce today: their mantra seems to be build cheap, profit to the most vulgar extremes possible.

      So I’m using a slightly discolored blanket instead of a huge one for $200. It still keeps me warm.

      If smaller works, go with it. The planet will thank you.

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    • Adventures for the Books

      Posted at 5:31 pm by kayewer, on September 18, 2021

      After hours of flying, hotel rooms and a variety of culture and experiences, I have returned from a week’s vacation.

      Of course, now I need another week to recover.

      I had not left the comforts of my homeland since I last flew to Los Angeles in 1997, so this was a treasured break from things. The plans were originally made for March of this year, but we all know that nobody was dumb enough to travel then. This month, as a second choice for the same vacation, was for the only slightly batty like me. It was worth it.

      Tourists are needed desperately everywhere, but while we are still waiting for an ease in the numbers of sick people (and higher numbers among those electing to–finally–take the shots), the places are the same, but access is limited. I found no shuttle rides were available, and one key attraction had a mechanical issue which needed fixing, so I couldn’t go there. Still, I was able to relax for once and take my time getting familiarized with places I feel sure I will visit again at a later date, when things get better for good.

      So what can I talk about here? I can save people like me, who don’t get out much, some headaches by making some observations about my experiences flying these days.

      First, not every airport is accommodating when it comes to an orderly method of getting checked in for a flight. On one occasion I found myself needing to rush to the ticket counter for a boarding pass so I could pass through the TSA screening, which was the reverse at another airport. I highly recommend using apps to get boarding passes when possible, even though this means making sure you have a fully charged device which will enable you to flash it at the right moment. Barring that, try to print a paper ticket in advance (and ignore the commercials’ pooh-poohing that idea from actor Bill Glass’ Dr. Rick and his “becoming like your parents” schtick) to avoid having to go to a kiosk or counter for one. Have one spot for your ID and keep it there at all times, because you will flash identification often. If you don’t have a passport, even if you would only use it for domestic travel, get one. Also get Real ID when you can, on your driver’s license.

      Second, wear comfortable shoes that don’t need a lot of effort to put on and take off, because TSA screening requires shoe removal. Also, feet can get tired on long flights, so you can flip your feet out of the shoes and let everything air. Don’t put your tablet or other devices in the bottom of the bag, either; you must remove them for screening.

      Third, women beware of the airports where they will argue with you about whether a purse is a third carry-on item. To be safe, leave space for it in one of your allowed carry-on bags so you can shove it in for screening and take it out when you board the aircraft. I actually took a lesson from an old movie to get myself through this snag: The Three Musketeers (1973) featured a scene in which Michael York’s hero, D’Artagnan, had to take a boat to England with his servant Planchet (Roy Kinear), but he managed to nab a single signed pass, so when they were challenged at the dock as being two people, he explained that he is one person and Planchet is a servant. So when the agent said I was allowed two bags, I said, “These are two bags; this is my purse.” My smaller carry-on did actually have room for the purse, but who wants to start stooping, bending and shoving in a moving queue while in unshod feet?

      Fourth, if you get cabin fever, my experience revealed that not all airport hotels are good for stepping out and taking a walk. There may not be anything outside the buildings except more hotels, restaurants and bars. This can cause hunger pangs if you were on a late flight and/or one not serving anything beyond snacks.

      Fifth, airlines don’t really feed you. It’s not their fault that changes forced them to do this, but I must say I have had more pretzels, Stroopwafels and little bottles of water in one week, it was hilarious. The mini pretzels come in a bag and are about the size of a finger digit. Being salty, the folks are smart and give you water to wash them down and keep you hydrated at 30,000 feet. One flight also offered cookies, for which I was grateful and anxious to find them in the store. Only my one overnight flight gave me a meal, and it was quite good. For better fare, download the app and keep a credit card on it, as airlines are getting into specialty meal services and accepting payments that way rather than cash or credit card swiping.

      Sixth, airports are not all equipped to handle connections with the current security issues. My best connection was at the Denver airport, which enabled me to leave one flight on the left side of the terminal, and simply walk around the moving sidewalks to the right side for my next flight without having to undergo TSA screening again. And they had open restaurants and shopping, plus I was able to grab my daily potassium (bananas) and a vitamin water.

      Seventh, the interiors of airplanes are refrigerators, so bring something with long sleeves and be ready to tuck your hands inside while napping.

      Eighth, in-flight entertainment is great, and I enjoyed some of my favorite movies and shows (on United they offer podcasts, too) while confined for hours, but the earbuds left me sore. The screens on the backs of seats may not be on smaller aircraft yet, though. Bring something to amuse yourself, with an Internet connection, or be ready to enroll and pay for access for the flight’s duration.

      When Frank Sinatra sang in “It’s Nice to Go Trav’ling” that it’s fun, but so nice to come home, I never knew how much that would mean until I stepped into my home again. I do feel recharged and ready for more of the old routine starting Monday.

      But I do want to get more of those cookies.

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    • Taking an Edward Lewis Day

      Posted at 4:39 pm by kayewer, on September 4, 2021

      I have not taken a day off without posting something in a while. The last day I didn’t post an actual blog entry was November 3, 2019, but even then I posted something to say I wasn’t posting anything. Not taking days off from blogging was a resolution which has gone way beyond what one might expect, so it’s time to leave a gap.

      I will be taking September 11 off, not just because it’s the 20th year after domestic terrorism destroyed lives in New York, Washington DC and in a field in Pennsylvania, but because I have a week off, and I realized I should use it to do things to recharge my spirit. That means putting regularly scheduled things aside to change my routine. I will get back to posting on September 18 and let you know what I did.

      I’m calling it an Edward Lewis Day after Richard Gere’s character in Pretty Woman, a corporate “garage sale guru” (read takeover mogul) who never took time off, until the right person came into his life and helped him see the futility of always laser focusing on one purpose which cannot provide any lasting memory or positive effects on his life. He went out for a “snap dog” with Julia Roberts’ character Vivian, copped a squat under a tree and did essentially nothing constructive except relax, and he had fun.

      Nobody has come into my life and done that, but since I’m not dead yet, I feel there is still time.

      Anyway, it’s always good to do nothing when your entire week has been devoting your brain matter to other things, like the workplace, the home, the bills, how to shop safely and when to fit the car’s maintenance into the calendar. Health, lifestyle and psychology studies have shown that our current lifestyles are not helping us live well. Obesity, insomnia, poor nutrition and related physical ailments are becoming a big problem. Heck, being big is a big problem.

      For the past few weeks, I haven’t stepped on a scale; I did track steps for a company walking challenge (we surpassed the goal by a huge margin), but I allowed myself to fit fun into my diet and distractions into the day. So far I’ve managed to stay sane, and the clothes still fit, but having only taken a day or half day here and there has not helped recharge myself, so I’m going to find my own private island of contentment and sip cold drinks for a few days.

      Maybe I’ll grab a snap dog.

      See you when I return.

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    • With a Poof!

      Posted at 5:10 pm by kayewer, on August 28, 2021

      Death often comes in trios. This week the rock world lost one of the Rolling Stones, Charlie Watts, at age 80. The world certainly knew of him if they were even casually exposed to the band’s compositions, such as the grammatically lacking classic “I Can’t Get No Satisfaction,” the darkly driven “Paint It Black” or “Start Me Up,” I was not of an age or state of mind to fully embrace rock culture in the Stones’ heyday, especially when it involved protest or anger-related subject matter, but the group will forever be known as an important part of music history, and without a drummer, it loses some of its heartbeat. It disappears–poof–like smoke on the wind.

      Along with news of Watts’ death, a good friend lost a battle to give a dog a second chance at a stable home. She adopted him from a shelter who took him out of a bad situation, and he was obviously not in the best shape when he arrived in her home, though the shelter had worked with him to get him healthier. Initially his biggest long-term problems were recovering from what was diagnosed as Lyme disease, along with some psychological issues with boundaries and excessive guarding of things. The protection extended to my friend, and I was unable to sit next to her when I visited without feeling threatened. After getting neutered, he seemed to improve, and he even began to understand basic principles such as sitting when I approached (I showed him and it only took once).

      This instinctual behavior was not his fault, as she didn’t teach this to him; it was a mental issue which needed to be replaced by a better sense of security; television’s Cesar Millan and Matt Beisner (of the series Dog: Impossible) deal with this all the time with pet owners. Unfortunately a weekend in which he inflicted a second and third biting incident proved to be the end, and the decision was made to have him put down. My poor friend was beside herself, as this is the third dog she has had since I’ve known her (she adopts older shelter dogs and aged-out puppy mill breeding fodder), and I know she wants a companion for longer-term. He will undergo a necropsy to possibly trace the cause of his issues, and it will probably be some time before she takes on another dog. It was so sudden, yet considering the processes she went through to help him, not totally unexpected. Sometimes things change that way–poof–in the blink of an eye.

      The third death explains why I seem obsessed with the word poof all of a sudden. In the workplace we often get to know some people by their special qualities, and we learned that one of our most unique customers passed away last year. They had legally changed their name to Poof, and apparently ended their phone calls by using that phrase. The lack of phone calls could easily have been explained by the current state of our country and people traveling elsewhere to wait out the end of the situation, but we found out that this particular person had indeed left this life; the obituary detailed a good Christian life. Sometimes the good ones disappear with a poof and the hanging up of that last phone call.

      The speed in which things change can be overwhelming at times. Of course we also have the horrors of the lives lost in a suicide bombing attack overseas in Kabul this past week, which are tragic in a more profound way, but here are three passings with stories as individual as they were.

      Always remember that life ends in a poof, so the magic needs to happen before then.

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    • Can I Can It?

      Posted at 4:52 pm by kayewer, on August 21, 2021

      Anything which is manufactured can, and usually will, succumb to time. I have that issue with a trash can right now. It didn’t start out as my problem, because my friend who recently moved brought it over to help haul yard debris out to the curb for collection, but she didn’t want it back.

      It doesn’t really have a bottom, except for what could be duct taped together temporarily. It’s the kind of refuse container you keep around because it makes things easy to haul to the curb, but you use it as a last resort because it looks awful and its appearance by the other trash is rather embarrassing. It can’t be repurposed anymore.

      So how do you trash a trash can?

      If you write “TRASH” on it, how is that a note worthy of attention? Maybe you’re somebody who labels one can for trash and another for recycling. I was thinking about setting it on its side and writing “TAKE” on it, and waiting to see if it does indeed go out with the trash next pickup. Or will it go with the recycling?

      I took a moment to look it up, and sure enough, the Internet gurus at a trash can website (honest to heck) says to invert the can and write “FOR DISPOSAL” on the side. If that isn’t heeded, simply chop it up and place the pieces in a trash bag for collection, they advise. A bit sneaky, but a great idea for somebody who has anger issues and nothing else to take it out upon. Or it might be good practice for the local slasher flick antihero. I wonder if, in the absence of the proper cutting tools, smashing it flat with a mallet would do?

      Another issue with trash cans is the lids. Those thin toppers tend to wear out much faster than the cans they’re protecting. I have a few with worn spots and holes. Supposedly you can get replacement lids, but I’ve yet to find them in-store at any hardware retailer. Every lid is matched to a can in stock. Who wants to break up a set? You have to order replacement lids and have them shipped to the store for pick-up. What manufacturers really want, of course, is for you to order a whole new set. My problem is that the cans I have are outlasting my friend’s version.

      And you want lids to match the cans. It’s all about visual appeal. One doesn’t want one’s neighbors to be disturbed by the sight of a mismatched pair of can and lid, like green and blue. Are you clutching your pearls? My plan is to first verify that I am buying the correct size, then I’ll place an order for coordinating lids.

      I’m also planning to relocate my cans when they’re not on display by the curb. Guess that’s a makeover which requires no qualifications, as long as you know when to let go of a can and how to pair up the lids. Those qualifications I have.

      And a mallet and a permanent marker.

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    • A Shady DIY Deal

      Posted at 4:36 pm by kayewer, on August 14, 2021

      I tried to replace a window shade today, and failed. It isn’t really my fault, except that things in my house have lasted so long I tend to forget that modernization calls for things to change in the long stretches between when I install or buy something and need to replace it. This always happens to my detriment.

      The actual removal of the defective shade was not a problem at all, and the store had a replacement for me. The experienced sales associate cut it to perfection and boxed it up for me with professionalism and a smile. As I left the super mega chain store I thought to myself that I could redo the kitchen there next, replacing the shades which were desiccating fending off the hot afternoon sun.

      Returning home, I got the new shade out of the package and, following the decently written instructions, hammered the cylinder with the peg end of the shade into place, then I began mounting the shade onto its new perch. That’s when I found the problem, and my dreams of a perfect DIY project died of sudden apoplexy.

      It seems that in the years since the last new shades were installed, somebody in the window shade design council–consisting of a ruling class of business oriented dudes (and ladies like our aforementioned sales associate with the currently unfortunate name of Karen), whose word is law in the home improvement universe–decided that the peg which used to be a simple round pin should be changed into a larger square-like pin. My new shade would not fit into the old hardware.

      From what I can see with my glasses and missing about a foot of added height (unless I want to hoist a ladder, which I’m not in a state of health to do), the screws holding in the old hardware are painted over but might yield to the proper application of a screwdriver and the patience of Job.

      It’s either that, sheepishly ask my neighbor for help, or find a nice, non-psychotic handyman. All to replace a bleeping window shade. So I have a shade I can’t install and a bookshelf awaiting more stripping. So much for my aspirations as a fixer-upper. At least I can write.

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    • (S)Mall Changes

      Posted at 4:56 pm by kayewer, on August 7, 2021

      Another local mall looked very different to me when I visited yesterday. Of course I really wasn’t there to shop, because I am saving for an upcoming vacation. This particular center is one of the last ones to have a multi-screen movie theater inside, and I went with a friend to see a feature and have dinner.

      In the good old days of indoor shopping experiences, the mall was a hub of social activity. In its prime back in the 1960s and 1970s, the interior walkways were populated with small bridges over ponds of ducks, huge aviaries housing exotic birds, and an assortment of greenery and fountains. This particular mall was also known to contain about a dozen shoe stores, which neighboring malls didn’t have. The anchor stores were well-known favorites including Sears and Philadelphia staple John Wanamaker’s.

      When a fire destroyed the interior in 1992, the owners rebuilt it better than before, modernizing the indoor experience and refurbishing the store fronts. It may have looked less like a zoo with stores, but it was filled with light from skylights overhead, and it was pleasant. The shoe stores didn’t all stay, and by that time the anchors were becoming Macy’s and Lord & Taylor. Now, the only store remaining of the big department store chains is Boscov’s.

      Last night I did manage to sneak in a visit to one of the smaller retailers still remaining which I do use, and I noticed a few more changes had happened since I was there last. First, Hallmark pulled its last store out of the mall, and in its place was an unopened boutique displaying signage but nothing else. A major clothing store also vacated; next door to it was a new business featuring Black-owned products, with the proprietor standing outside the door waiting to hob-knob with another tenant. Nobody was shopping inside.

      Because my friend and I could not wait an hour for seating at the sports bar, we went to the grill restaurant instead, and noticed that it wasn’t 7:00 yet, but the jewelers had closed and locked up. The mall was looking more like a ghost town, which cannot be good on a Friday evening. The remaining food court eateries were sparsely populated, though the water ice stand seemed to be doing well.

      Our restaurant was doing well, we were seated immediately, the food was the best I’d had out in weeks, and we enjoyed a fun movie. I admit it would have been more fun if the theater had been filled with viewing patrons. I guess there may have been around 20 people there for the feature, which was in its second weekend. With current events as they are, it was nice to just be able to sit in a theater seat. Or walk in part of a mall, however sad it may have looked.

      It’s sad at my age to see that the world is modernizing and retooling itself out of its own existence.

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    • Sock It Shoe ‘Em

      Posted at 5:00 pm by kayewer, on July 31, 2021

      A classic episode of “All in the Family” entitled “Gloria Sings the Blues” featured an argument between Carrol O’Connor’s stubborn Archie Bunker and his son-in-law, actor Rob Reiner’s Michael Stivic (aka the Meathead). Archie is trying to get Mike out the door for a fishing trip and observes that the SIL puts on his socks and shoes one foot at a time. He tells Mike that everybody dresses in the “sock and a sock, shoe and a shoe” order, and a discussion of the benefits of the two methods ensues.

      When we examine the ordinary things in life, we realize just how polarizing our set ways of living can become. To put this argument about foot coverings in perspective, let’s look at it from a few angles.

      Archie’s method–sock, sock, shoe, shoe–requires a person to draw up their legs one at a time and twice; once to put on each sock, and once for each shoe. Mike’s method–sock, shoe, sock, shoe–cuts the dressing time to how long it takes to raise each leg to fully complete the task.

      Neither method provides full protection of the feet, but in having socks already on, the dresser has more protection than if dressed in only one sock and/or one shoe while the other foot is still bare or incomplete.

      For the physically challenged, raising one’s foot once per task is probably preferred, so this would mean sock and shoe on one foot at a time. For those who bend forward to don footwear, however, it’s likely they will stay doubled over to do everything at once regardless of the order. As I’ve gotten older I find bending over while seated is more stressful on the lungs, so it’s not my preferred method. Also, since the type of sock was not mentioned, I’ll add that compression socks do not go on easily using any of these techniques (I know this from helping others with them, not myself).

      In terms of speed, it is possible with some types of footwear to throw on the socks and slide into the shoes and leave lacing for later. For fashion reasons, it is not recommended to wear socks (especially in white) with any type of sandals.

      Both methods do the job, but to say that everybody does something one way leaves restrictions on how life can run smoothly for everybody if we are just more accepting of how life allows for some variety. In the end, they got to the fishing trip, and Mike had socks and shoes on.

      What bothered me more about the episode was that Mike did not take a moment to roll up his socks before ramming his feet into them, but that’s another story.

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    • Transplanted

      Posted at 4:48 pm by kayewer, on July 24, 2021

      I inherited a tree this week. Upon researching, I discovered it’s a ficus. It used to sit in the division manager’s office at work and was a gift to him from the folks back when the group relocated to the building in the late 1990s. Originally it stood between his office and mine and was generally content to be several feet from a sunny window and receive water once a week. When his office expanded (and mine shrank slightly), the room for the tree also diminished, so it relocated to a new spot near the window in his office.

      The problem with ficus is that they are a bit moody and react poorly to relocation. It dropped leaves like crazy.

      Fast forward to March 2020; we left the building and began working from home to stop the spread of pestilence. The skeleton crew in the building–the 24-hour security, maintenance workers and a few required office staff members–did their best to keep the building from looking abandoned. When I had a chance to visit the office late last year, the poor tree was very unhappy. Its trunk, which had three shoots intertwined, has come unraveled, and it had dropped leaves like crazy. Its pot was a murky swamp of old water. I did my best to restore some order, but without a tree cosmetology license, it still drooped. I don’t know if there is a plant doctor who can re-weave a ficus tree, but right now it looks more like a weeping willow.

      Forward again to this year. I saw the ficus still hanging onto life like a beleaguered refugee standing its ground against immeasurable odds. The manager wanted me to ask at the office about keeping it in the lobby, but I got a sound no to that, so I brought it home.

      The tree now sits on my sun porch with (hopefully) the same exposure as before, and I’m looking forward to a day when I can see some improvement, so maybe I can retrain it to weave itself back to its former glory. Soil is on standby, and a privileged spot awaits its recovery. Right now it’s sort of in shock.

      And yes, it’s still dropping leaves like crazy.

      At least it has company, with violets and crown of thorns and spider plants. Along with the tree, I also received all the watering cans. None of my plants will lack water, because I have a can for each room.

      What I will need is a spare tarp so I won’t have to keep bending or kneeling to pick up ficus leaves.

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