My Border Garden

There used to be a house between mine and my neighbor's house, back when no one had cars. It was crowded, and that house was eventually demolished. The lady next door owned that property, which went right up to my driveway. When she died, a couple of flippers bought her property. I made a deal to split that extra yard, because they needed some remodeling money. With a new property line drawn, I plowed a border garden on my side. A new family bought that house, and erected a fence. So I've been gradually widening the border garden and planting perennials. The garden begins with daffodils in February, but they are only impressive as a welcome sign of spring coming. The tulips shown above pop up in March. That's when I start going outside every day just to admire the garden, because if those flowers are going to bloom, I owe it to them to take a look every day. In April, the irises take over. 

Then in May, I have sweet Williams, but they aren't tall enough to dominate the border garden. That's okay, because I have roses blooming in front of the house. 

Day lilies bloom through June, and they are spectacular. 

Other lilies, pink, red, and yellow, join them in July. The year this picture was taken, the yellow ones dominated. 

Later in summer, I have four o'clocks, zinnias, and hollyhocks, but it's the morning glories climbing the fence that really stand out in August. 

By September, the sedum is blooming. Some years I am lucky to have marigolds, but they don't stand out much among the foliage. 

 

 

 

The sedum, morning glories, and marigolds may last through October if the weather is nice, but usually by then I am gathering seeds and planting more tulips for next year. 

Just Another Day at Work

I liked this photo since I first saw it, so you should indulge a proud mama for a moment. Dr. Dolittle is on the left, performing surgery in Ecuador while instructing a veterinary student. Such excursions are set up to spay and neuter animals in underserved areas and give students real-world experience, while offering a foreign trip at discount prices. She was quite proud of climbing a volcano (while further injuring a sprained ankle). But I am more proud and frankly gobsmacked that my kid can cut into a living body without harm, plus teach that skill to others.

Car Story

The only time I ever bought a new car was in 1983. I was looking for a used car, but everything available seemed awful. It was the end of the model year, so I got a deal on a stripped down new Plymouth Champ. It didn't even have an FM radio. I told Mom I might call it "Bullet" because it was silver and sloped in the front. She said I should name it "Little Old Lady" because it was small, gray, and didn't go very fast. I drove Little Old Lady for about ten years. 

The fall of 1983 was a weird time to buy a car. One dealer tried to sell me a new '82 DeLorean. There was no way I could afford even a deeply-discounted DeLorean, but I humored him a while. I asked where I would be able to get it serviced. He said, "Right here! Until I get these four sold." We both laughed at that. 

Since then, I've sometimes wondered about that dealer. If he held onto those four cars until that movie came out in 1985, he would have made a killing. But it was more likely he took a loss. 

Skip ahead twenty years or so, and I wrote an article for Mental Floss on cars as metaphors. In a list of about ten vehicles, I used the DeLorean as a symbol of "hubris and failure" because of John DeLorean's story. I got my first lesson in being an out-of-touch Boomer when I was raked over the coals in the comments. The DeLorean was a metaphor for "time machine"! Yeah, I saw the movie, in which the DeLorean was used as a joke (and a good one at the time). But I didn't realize how much that film meant to the Gen X kids who saw it. I learned my lesson about how things change.   

(Image credit: dave_7) 

Radio and Blogging

 It was twenty years ago this month that I left my last radio job, after 24 years in the business. I thought for sure that I would miss it, because I was once so enthusiastic about the sheer fun of it, but I was wrong. Over those years, deregulation and corporate takeovers changed the industry so much that I went from gleefully working overtime to carefully craft a show all the way to supervising four computer-controlled radio stations and punching a clock because I had to support a family. But I learned a lot during those years. I was mostly a disc jockey, but I also worked in news, copy writing, ad production, promotions, and programming. Radio programming strangely influenced my blogging habits.

Bloggers come in many types. Some enthusiastically post about their area of expertise. Others are writers at heart and live to type out their thoughts or interests. Some pass along fun or interesting things they've found on the internet when they find them. And some are desperate to create content on a schedule to make a living. Yes, many bloggers fit into more than one category. I started blogging to make friends at a time when I was desperately lonely. My personal blog became my hobby, and it led to a career of writing for other blogs, but I kept this one out of habit, for fun, and to keep friends coming back. And it's an easy way to express my limited creativity. 

For the first few years, I posted only once a day, on a single subject, but those posts were crafted to present a variety of elements- links, jokes, pictures, comics, and videos. Then my boss at Neatorama advised me it would be easier and more productive (and way more flexible) to put up short posts several times a day and I've done that ever since. But there is a sort of method to the madness.  

See, in free entertainment like radio or broadcast TV, the product is not the entertainment, but the audience, which is sold to advertisers. The bigger the audience, the more they can charge for advertising. On the programming side, our job was to produce the biggest audience possible. Therefore a radio show should give the listener what they want, which they say is "variety," but they also want to hear their favorite song.

Programming radio involved a ton of rules, which may be very different today. Each hour is crafted to deliver the right number of current hits, brand new songs, classic oldies, the weather forecast, and the obligatory ads. We made broadcast clocks to keep this straight for each hour, which were round because everyone understood analog clocks back then. These clocks varied by the type of station format and the time of day, but they were mostly consistent in theory. For example, we might play four top hits every hour, so if you have a category of Top 20 songs, you'd hear the same one every five hours, except we would have 21 on the list so they didn't show up at the same minute in a different hour. We might have three oldies an hour, which wasn't repetitive at all if you had a library of 2,000 oldies, and that category could be split into power oldies and obscure oldies if that worked. The ad slots would be formatted so that they didn't come too often or were too long (if we could manage that). We also had some goofy formatting tricks to goose the ratings -or at least we hoped. 

The disc jockey once had some leverage within these formatting rules, like selecting the oldies you wanted as long as they hadn't been played in two weeks or whatever. We could also change the order of songs a bit to improve flow, as long as the system held up. We dropped songs to make the time work or talk more. I was once involved in designing clocks and a music rotation system for a new station, and it was quite involved. We didn't have internet yet, but we used a computer for databases and some math help. Still there were late night arguments about what oldies or recurrent songs deserved to be played and how often.

Some of you have already figured out how this loose regimen has influenced my blogging. It wasn't conscious at the time, but I started scheduling this blog like a radio clock, except for a day at a time instead of an hour. I knew if I didn't have a consistent schedule, I'd have twenty posts up in one evening, and then nothing for the next two days. I keep a code for each post on a large calendar and fill them out as I schedule a post in the categories of videos, links, pictures, social media sharing, etc etc. You are used to the 6AM cat (or other animal). If I have ten cat pictures, I can schedule them for the next ten days in a row. The 3AM video is always a rerun from quite a few years ago. Pictures are often scheduled way ahead, while the videos are often last minute decisions.  

Still, this blog is a hobby and I don't depend on it for a living. I don't care about SEO or competing for clicks. If I miss a slot or throw in something extra, I don't care because I know I've got plenty of other slots covered. Most folks only visit a blog once a day at most. Sure it's silly to be so regimented, but in some areas of life, regimentation makes things easier, like always brushing your teeth before bed or watering plants on the weekend. It doesn't make any difference in the long run, but I thought I'd let you know how it's done. 

Sign of Spring

A pair of mourning doves are building a nest on the ledge outside my transom window on the second door leading to the porch. It's the perfect place for them, high up and out of the rain, and I never use that door anyway. I'm glad I have a window to keep an eye on them, because it's a reminder that nature continues the best it can.

Driving Lessons

The Autopian has a post that asked for advice on what to teach new drivers. More than a hundred comments were all good. It took me back to teaching my kids to drive. I started when they were about 12, and whoever was in the front seat got a rundown on what I was doing and why, comments on other people's driving, plus tips on finding your way around. I also drilled into them the priorities: 1. don't hit anything, 2. don't let anyone hit you, and 3. get where you are going. 

At fifteen, they got to drive in a pasture. This let them learn how to handle a car without wrecking or breaking laws. We had a foreign exchange student at the time, who had apparently never had the chance to drive a go-kart or golf cart before. The way he drove, I had my suspicions he never had a bicycle, either. My kids did pretty good. 

With a permit, we moved on to parking lots. Then cemeteries, which have narrow one lane roads and no traffic. Once they mastered those courses, we drove in our quiet neighborhood to learn how to deal with the occasional traffic. Then we moved on to downtown, the shopping centers, and to school. I tried different routes with narrow bridges, one lane roads, and different kinds of intersections.  

There's always more to introduce. We then went to the four-lane town bypass, where the speed limit is 55 and you have to get used to an entirely different way of driving and observing. Once that was mastered, I let them on the interstate highway. 

Teaching in phases like this also helped me to assess what they needed to work on at each step. When Princess took the driving test, she was one of about ten test-takers, all girls. She was the only one who passed that day, which blew away the Asian woman driver stereotype. The instructor complimented me for teaching her. 

Contrast all that care with the time I learned to drive. I wasn't in any real hurry to get a license after I got a permit, because my bestie was a few months older and already had her license. You could do that in the '70s. I flunked my first attempt because I failed to come to a complete stop at a sign. I was driving Mom's car. When I later used my car, with poorly synchronized gears, I couldn't shift into first without coming to a complete stop, so I passed just fine. I drove a '66 MG Midget, and everyone at school wanted to borrow my car to take the driving test because it was quite easy to parallel park. That was fine with me, as being their licensed driver got me out of class. But the cops finally told me to never bring that car back, because they had too much trouble getting in and out of it.  

Year-end Lists 2025: Personal

Dr. Doolittle's wedding was the highlight of January and demanded most of my bandwidth for the month. It turned out to be glorious. It was held at our local state park, which is nice enough without proclaiming they went bankrupt for the occasion. The guests really made it special, since so many came so far from all over, and represented the bride and groom's closest friends from all the different phases of their lives. The food was simple but plentiful. The wine, dance music, karaoke, and the photo booth were fun for everyone, and those who stayed at the park lodge partied on in the honeymoon suite long after I packed up the decorations and left. 

Princess and her kids stayed at my house for three months after the wedding, while the Captain went off to basic training. Life with a two-year-old and an infant was hectic, but fun as I got to spend plenty of time with my grandchildren up close and personal. That ended with a trip to Ft. Hood to see my son-in-law graduate.  

It was a blessing that Princess was here in February, since that was when my first colonoscopy was scheduled months earlier. But the prep went sideways and I vomited the last of my body's fluids. I canceled the procedure, but went to a closer hospital when I lost my balance and my leg hurt terribly. It was my first ER visit for myself, and my first hospitalization. They kept me for three nights on an IV for dehydration. That wouldn't be so notable except that it turned out to be a blessing in disguise. They did a scan and found an aortic aneurysm that needed surgery. That took another six weeks and was postponed twice, while I pondered my death the whole time. My first surgery was done on April Fool's Day. They kept me in ICU overnight and then promptly sent me home, where Dr. Doolittle and Princess both pampered me for several days, while I just slept most of the time. And may I say, thank God for Medicare. 

Thanks to DOGE, my new son-in-law's postdoc funding was yanked, and he found that energy research hiring was at a standstill, especially for immigrants. There are a lot of scientists and research engineers in the same boat. So Dr. Dolittle signed a year's contract at a vet clinic and he found a job outside his expertise (although his work at Auburn is still being published). They are in Nashville because she was spooked by my medical adventures and wanted to be closer to home. That wouldn't be my first choice for their futures, but she's only obligated for one year. They squeezed in a long-planned honeymoon in Hawaii between jobs. My son-in-law has a work permit and a pending green card application. His interview is in January, and is no guarantee of safety thanks to the ever-changing whims of the White House. An actual green card is no guarantee of safety, either, but it will give him a leg up in getting a position in his field of expertise. If he's rejected, America will lose two very skilled young people with expensive American educations. And I won't be able to live in a country with both my daughters. 

My year-long stint as chairman of the board at my church finally came to an end after two years. I am still in charge of our charitable outreach. And I took on another role when I designed and launched a new church website, one that actually seems to belong in the 21st century. That turned out to be an ongoing job, as the site has a blog and I'm the only one who knows how to keep up with that (and no one else is interested in learning). I'm gradually using it as a digital archive of the church's history, along with posting sermons, testimonies, and activities. 

Autumn was happy because the Captain became an American citizen! And my granddaughter turned one and took her first steps! It was also sad because I lost my sweet orange cat Apollo.

Looking forward to 2026, I am glad that my family is flourishing and doing well in whatever they attempt. Dr. Doolittle is going to Ecuador for a marathon spay-and-neuter mission. My grandson is starting preschool. Dr. Engineer may get his green card (pray for that). I am getting hearing aids, which everyone guarantees will improve my life. I may remodel the bathroom, which will mean an extensive post or two. 

Meanwhile, I am very grateful for all of you who come to visit Miss Cellania, and for your comments, contributions, good wishes, and friendship. Thanks to everyone, and here's to a wonderful 2026!  

See all the previous year-end lists here. 

Thanksgiving Menu

Twelve years ago, I wrote about my family's Thanksgiving menu. A lot has changed since then. The generation above me has died out, my husband is gone, and the children have grown up, moved out, and married. I still manage to have a houseful any time I cook a turkey, and this year is no exception. We will have an eclectic gathering of whichever family and friends will come, including some I've never met. 

I didn't do Thanksgiving in 2024; I just watched TV, ate sandwiches, and planned a big Christmas. Princess was still recovering from childbirth, and cooked a dinner at her home just like my usual spread, since she had been cooking for years. Dr. Dolittle's husband particularly liked my cornbread dressing and tried to duplicate it himself. However, he couldn't throw off the habit of adding some random Asian spices to enhance it and it didn't turn out the way he remembered it.

Princess and family are staying home this year because of the Captain's work schedule. The doctors are coming. I told them they could invite friends, so they invited people who already had Thanksgiving plans. Can we have the feast on Wednesday night instead? Okay, sure, and that means I can invite my brother and family, who normally go to the in-laws on Thursday. She asked if she could invite others. Sure! But they will come on Thursday. What? What are they going to eat, leftovers? Sure!   

So we will have about eleven people eating, but not all at the same time. 

I no longer make Stovetop Stuffing, macaroni, sweet potatoes, or mashed potatoes. We will have plenty of carbs with the dressing, gravy, and desserts. Yes, there will be vegetables, too. Plus celery and olives, of course. I have to make deviled eggs because both doctors love them. She wants pumpkin pie, and he wants my pineapple upside-down cake. She said, "No one eats pineapple upside down cake- that's old people food." Personally, I am looking forward to dressing and gravy and a couple of weeks' worth of turkey sandwiches. 

Having a feast on Wednesday night means planning the logistics differently. Making cornbread today, desserts tonight, and dressing tomorrow morning. Dolittle usually puts the Christmas tree up, but she won't be here early enough for the Thanksgiving guests to see it, so I'm doing that, too. I cannot set the table early, because I require another pair of hands to put the extension in. But most of the guests know what their regular duties are to get it all together at the last minute.  

I hope your Thanksgiving is a wonderful celebration of food, family, friends, and counting your blessings! 
 

Seasonal Decorations in My Neighborhood

In the middle of November, we should be getting ready for Thanksgiving. Yes, but that doesn't traditionally include over-the-top decorations. There is one house in my neighborhood that is decked out specifically for Thanksgiving, which seems a little weird. More common is the transitional house decorations. That's when you have expensive and elaborate Halloween decorations that you love and don't want to take down, but you also want to decorate for Christmas. Why not both? A neighbor just around the corner had a great display of skeletons including a life size horse and a larger-than-life size dog skeleton (plus spiderwebs and lights and other stuff). The skeletons are still there, but now they are Santa Claus and his helpers. Even the stack of three skulls gets an extension because it's now a snowman. And today I spotted another example, a couple of blocks down on the same road. 

 

 

Clever. Once you have invested in a sandworm from the movie Beetlejuice, you want to get your money's worth. Here it became a Christmas decoration by eating an aluminum Christmas tree. There are some cool people in my part of town. More common are the houses that just put up Christmas decor and left the Halloween stuff as well. And many of them have large American flags like it's still Independence Day. Yeah, those are up year-round because some people need to remind themselves what country they live in.

Apollo 2011-2025

Apollo came to us as a ten-week-old kitten in the spring of 2011. Princess picked him out from a litter of ten orange kittens at the local animal shelter. I had never gotten a kitten from an animal shelter before, because you could always get a free kitten from someone, and kittens were often dumped at the local radio station. That day I found that even though you pay a fee for shelter cats, it's a bargain compared to getting a free kitten fixed and vaccinated. Why did we have to have a kitten that day? Princess's cat Biscuit met a sudden and unfortunate end. She cried mightily, and Mr. Cellania told her we'd get her a new kitten. Why did you do that? We have three other cats! He said he couldn't stand to see a woman cry. I said that's a pretty dangerous way to live for a man who has six daughters. But his word put an immediate end to her tears, which also jarred me. Princess named the new kitten Apollo, since she was studying 8th grade Greek mythology. She had already named our cockatoos Helios and Hades. 

 

The three other cats were all female, and all doted on Apollo. But Marshmallow, only one year old at the time, decided this was her baby. He thrived in this environment and became convinced he was a the king of the house and the leader of the cats. All other cats deferred to him. All his life, Marshmallow would lick his fur while he stole her food. He soon became the biggest, but was never the smartest. He was orange, after all. But he was friendly. Anyone walking by the house was welcome to pay him the honor of a petting, while the other cats kept their distance until after Apollo got his due. People were always surprised by his high-pitched voice for such a large cat. I believe it was because he was neutered at a very young age. 

There were six people in the house as Apollo grew up. Every cat "belonged" to a particular person, but one by one, the people left. When Princess left, Apollo was confused, but she came back from time to time, less often after college. Like the rest, Apollo learned to become my cat because I was always here. That's how many older women become cat ladies. 

 I not like vegetals.

Apollo was a creature of habit. Fancy Feast time is at six, so he started nagging me about it at five. Then I'd have to put him and his food outside (or in the bathroom if it was really cold) so the other cats could eat. Then he would rush back in to see if anyone had any food left. He learned that if I was taking too long to check the door for cats, he could claw on my office window and meow to be let in. That's why the screen has a huge hole in it. When the next kitten came, Apollo took Tommy under his wing and they became wrestling buddies. Tommy was much smarter, but still deferred to the bigger Apollo. Sometimes I think he was just humoring the big orange cat. 

Apollo always slept at the foot of my bed (or Princess's bed if she was here). It was only in the last few months that he learned he could get a petting session if he sat at the top of the bed until I fell asleep, but then he'd return to the foot. In later years, he switched from jumping onto the bed to climbing up with his claws due to arthritis. Sundae learned that from him, and she claws her way up even though she can jump just fine. 

When Tommy started going on walks with me, Apollo quickly joined in. But when arthritis arrived, the walk would be punctuated by his complaining. Sometimes I would carry him part of the way, which amused the neighbors. Then I put him inside before a walk, because staying at home was out of the question for him even when walking was painful.    

Apollo never sat on my lap -or anyone else's. My younger cats love to sit on my lap, and Marshmallow learned to enjoy it after she turned twelve or so, but that wasn't Apollo's way. The closest he ever came was to stand on my lap a few times while getting petted. But earlier this week, Apollo settled into my lap for the first time for about 15 minutes like a normal cat. I was delighted, and thought maybe he was learning new pleasures in his old age like Marshmallow. Maybe I should have been concerned instead.

I noticed how bony Apollo was getting. He hadn't lost any weight, but his body seemed to be sagging and his spine had become more prominent. He'd been slowing down for a long time, but had no symptoms of illness. He died last night, sleeping at the foot of my bed. He was getting close to 15 years old, which is past the curve even for an indoor cat. I can't bury him until daylight, so I am coping the way I always do, by writing. I won't post this until I notify my daughters. 

Apollo was a good cat. He was certainly loved. I believe he had a good life.  

Where Did the Time Go?

Some folks have asked about the high school reunion I attended last weekend. It's actually been only 49 years, but since six out of about 40 people have died already, we didn't want to wait.  

It was lovely! From what I've heard, the biggest deals in class reunions are the 10th and the 50th. A 50th reunion is the best. The 10th reunion is too soon, and everyone is comparing jobs, spouses, and children. But by the 50th, we're all fully ripened and pretty much on the same playing field. We're all either retired or close to it, so more people could actually attend. It's great to meet spouses, but most who live far away just stayed at home because we are all old and have nothing to prove. We have let go of all the competitions, slights, and resentments of our school years and choose to recall the fun stuff. And the things we admired each other for. Everyone had a story, with both good and bad parts, and we were all interested to hear them. To be honest, there were a few who didn't attend because of trauma, grudges, or potential embarrassment, but we would have welcomed them. 

It was a small school with a small class, and we spent 12 years growing up together (students who moved away during those years were also invited), so we were like a group of brothers and sisters as soon as we recognized each other. 

My daughters have 10th reunions coming up, but they graduated from classes of nearly 300 students, and they went to a parochial elementary, so I can't imagine it being as good as my 50th. But I would encourage them and everyone else to make it to the 50th.  

(Thanks for the image, WTM!)

Catnip Harvest

Today I started stripping this years' catnip crop that's been drying out for a while. I usually do this outside, but it was still dark this morning, so I just threw the stems on the kitchen floor. Most years, the cats aren't all that interested in the process, but that's because the three younger cats have been enjoying the catnip garden all summer. Marshmallow, however, rarely goes outside anymore and she thought she had died and gone to heaven wallowing in the fragrant discarded sticks. 

 

This is not even half the catnip, but it's a real mess. I'll just leave it for a while because the old lady deserves some joy in her life. The flowers and leaves will go in a gallon jar so I can occasionally stuff it into an odd sock for the cats over the winter.

Twenty Years of Blogging

Twenty years now
Where'd they go?
Twenty years
I don't know
I sit and I wonder sometimes
Where they've gone   

                 -Bob Seger, "Like a Rock"

When I finally decided to start writing this post, these lyrics came to mind even though I don't care for the song. I know what's happened in the last twenty years- I spent half of that raising my kids, and the other half watching them make their way in the world successfully, each in their own style. I got a house, got married, got stepchildren and grandchildren, expanded the house, became widowed again, and then saw everyone move out, and I started to really confront old age. And the blog remained.  

Starting a blog was supposed to be a hobby, but it turned out to be the second time in my life that a hobby became a career, and so I had to find another hobby. But 20 years later, my professional blogging career has diminished so that I look at Miss Cellania as a fun thing to do again. I've written for more blogs than I care to list here, sometimes for a short time, sometimes for years, and then lost those positions for a variety of reasons. I'm still at Neatorama, but I've gone from a fairly full-time salaried position to just a couple of posts a day, since I'm at full retirement age and am no longer desperate for the money. I prioritize my time differently now, doing real-life stuff first and then fitting online stuff around it. 

I've told the origin story of this blog ad nauseam in several other blogiversary posts, so I don't need to go over it again (however, I almost always link to the first post). As I write this, Miss Cellania has 45,155 published posts, and that doesn't even count a few years worth from the time I was posting on Squarespace. Those were supposed to be exportable, but it didn't work. There are also 29,700+ comments. I appreciate each and every one.

By now, this blog is second nature, and seems to write itself. I've learned how to get it done without beating myself up over it. Oh, that doesn't mean I don't care- I very much do. I don't care about hits, or SEO, or revenue, or going viral. I care about sharing entertaining, interesting, and/or informative stuff with people who care to visit. I also love how you guys add extra layers of humor or understanding to the posts with your comments. And the stories you tell! Some of you have become good friends, and all of you seem like sort of a community, peeps if you will, and I love that. So this is as good a time as any to THANK YOU for coming around here all these years, and let's do a few more! 

It's Not Even August Yet

I turned my AC on for the first time this weekend. I had gotten along just fine with windows and fans, plus the chimney effect, so the heat could vent up there when no one is living up there. Besides, the house is too big to cool the whole thing for just one person. But Dr. Dolittle came to visit, so the AC is on. She's gone, and the AC is still on. So why does it feel like 80 degrees in here? That's when I checked the weather site. First I noticed 102 degrees. That's bad. Then I noticed the heat index is 124. I kind of wish I didn't know that. But the worst part is that tomorrow is expected to be just as hot. 

I don't know whether my kid turned the upstairs AC off when she left (there are separate systems). Should I go upstairs and open the windows to start the venting again? Would that overtax my downstairs AC? Looking forward to nighttime temperatures isn't all that encouraging. We might dip below 80 by midnight. 

On Composting

It just occurred to me that this summer is the 30th anniversary of my composting system. I bought my first house in the fall of 1994, and spent that entire winter reading about gardening. When the tomatoes were planted the next spring, I started collecting household food scraps, grass clippings, pine needles and leaves from the forest, and a good helping of cow patties from my mother's farm. Over the years, as new piles were formed, I incorporated finished and working compost as a starter, so the piles I have now may contain the descendants of insects, worms, and microbes from 1995. 

When other people hear that I compost, they want to show me their system, which they are rather enthusiastic about. I can understand that. I remember my grandfather being proud of his compost heap, which didn't impress me as a kid. Gardeners are almost giddy about their tumblers that produce a bucket or two of compost in a couple of weeks. I tell them I do it the "slow and lazy way," which I have to explain, and always amazes newer composters. 

I made three bins. At the old place, they were made of pallets because they were free. At first, I turned the compost over into the next bin, but after a couple of years I abandoned that- too much work. I got my current house years before I sold the first house, and brought compost over with me in several stages. Now I have round bins made of wire mesh. I fill one bin every year, starting in November or December when I need a place to put leaves. Every spring, I remove the mesh from the oldest bin, remove the plants and unfinished material from the top (adding it to another bin), and start using the 2.5 to 3.5-year-old compost. After all my potting, transplanting, and gardening, I gradually transfer the rest of the finished compost to a covered barrel near the house for winter use. By the time I use all that, it's four years old! And in the fall I have an empty spot to put the mesh back up and dump leaves into. 

Right now, I have a small pile of finished compost I am using up, then a big one with tomato plants and morning glories growing on top like crazy plus a couple of dragon tree trimmings I put in there to root, and the newest pile that I'm adding grass clippings to rather quickly. Shown above is the middle bin to prove I am not exaggerating. All this means I haven't bought potting soil or topsoil in many years, even though I give most of my plants away every year.

 

Since I was out taking pictures, this is my flower border this morning. 

Some Thoughts on Weather Forecasting

I am amazed at how far we've come in predicting the weather. Saturday I called off Sunday church services because the forecast said we'd have snow and ice between 10AM and 1PM. The skies were clear at 9AM Sunday and I wondered if that was a mistake. But at 10, we got snowfall that lasted until around one. Then it got warm enough to melt the roads later in the afternoon, just as predicted.

When I was a kid, the TV weather report would say something like we have a 50% chance of snow between one and four inches in the next couple of days. We'd wake up not knowing whether there would be school or not, and the poor principal had to get up at five or so to make the call. In the early '80s, when I was doing the morning show in a mountain town, the local principal would call me to see how my drive to work was. I lived close enough to walk if the roads were dangerous, which is likely why I had the morning show. In the 21st century, schools get the word out a day ahead, because the forecast is just that accurate.

This morning, I checked the forecast and saw that I may be stuck inside for a few days. But the snow won't start until 10, and the temperatures won't plunge until one, so I went out and got some supplies for a project I can do indoors. Modern meteorology is amazing.

Year-end Lists 2024: Personal

This has been an eventful year, like they all are. Princess gave me a granddaughter in October! She is a beautiful little girl, born on my late mother's birthday, and named after her own mother (the name is not Princess). I was there in the city when it happened, to stay with my grandson during the birth. Princess lost quite a bit of blood, and was admitted to the hospital instead of going straight home from the birthing center. That was an emotional gut-check for me, since I had never seen one of my children as a hospital patient, but she recovered well. In other news, her husband joined the Army Reserve and will soon become an American citizen.   

I changed Gothgrrl's pseudonym to Dr. Doolittle when she graduated from veterinary school in May. She's also moved house twice, vacationed in Spain, bought a car, and started karate lessons. She's now preparing for her January wedding. Her fiancé successfully defended his dissertation, "Oxy-Steam Fluidized bed Gasification of Southern Pine Biomass, Lignite Coal, Plastic Waste, and Their Blends for Hydrogen Production" published in the journal Energy, and graduated in December. They are Dr. and Dr. but they will be keeping different last names.

A big chunk of my year was devoted to remodeling the kitchen, which I already posted about. The garden was smaller than ever, which is just as well since I live alone. Besides, I couldn't do much canning because my stove was out of commission after the end of June.  

My church decided that I did such a good job as Chairman of the Board that I should do it another year. I try to feel flattered, but it's one of those things that no one else wants to do.  

Tommy (the cat) had most of his teeth pulled, and seems to be much happier with life now. That's sad, because it tells me he was in pain beforehand. Get your pets' teeth checked. Cats and dogs rarely have any trouble eating with fewer teeth. Apollo, at 13, is starting to show his age with arthritis and some hair issues. Marshmallow is a year older than Apollo, but seems the same as ever. Sundae got stuck high up in a tree and was rescued three times this year, each time involving a different stranger on an extension ladder grabbing her and dropping her to the ground. She has now learned that jumping to the ground is survivable.  

My family has a lot to look forward to in 2025. Dr. Doolittle is getting married, Princess and her children will be staying with me for three months while her husband undergoes basic training, and I will be eligible for full Social Security benefits by summer. Meanwhile, we are all holding our breath about the H1B visa kerfluffle, hoping Dr. Soninlaw will be able to continue his energy research in the US. I would hate to see him take his American education and my daughter overseas to find work.

Thanks to you for being a part of my life in 2024, and I wish you a Happy New Year and a great 2025!

Where Did All These Christmas Decorations Come From?

 

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I don't see why anyone ever buys Christmas decorations. They just seem to appear. The only thing I buy is replacement light strings when they quit working, and a bunch of them one year when I switched to LEDs for the outside. I have a ton of decorations, especially tree ornaments. I have a few from the '70s and '80s to commemorate each Christmas, then the kids made or bought a new ornament each year as they were growing up. Plus, my mother-in-law gave me a lot, and I have all of Mom's imported glass and silk ornaments. I bring home some as gifts from pre-Christmas parties every year. Dr. Doolittle brought me a taller tree a few years ago to accommodate them all.

Oh yeah, I also acquired all these red balls from the one year Mom decide to go monochrome for her tree decorations. I found a place for them.

I give a couple of boxes of decorations away every year if I can find someone who wants them. Princess has all she needs (from me), and her sister has no room to store decorations. Yet the collection of Christmas stuff just grows. I'm not even going to talk about my full set of Christmas dishes and table linens, none of which I bought.

Today I marveled at how many purple ornaments I have from the Red Hat Society. Wait, there's a purple tree upstairs in storage that the good doctor bought in high school. I went to pull it out of its cubbyhole, and also found a Christmas tree that Princess bought one year and then asked me to store -and forgot it. These are in addition to the tree Dr. Doolittle has in a closet that she wants back "when she gets a bigger place." We all know that a bigger place will mean a bigger tree. 

 

 

I put up the purple tree with its purple lights and now purple ornaments in the upstairs apartment for my grandson to enjoy. It won't bother anyone -except the extra friend who will be sleeping in the TV room over the holiday.

But after a few hours, I realized the purple tree was just stupid. Only half the lights worked anyway, so I took it back down. If I decide to have an extra tree upstairs for the toddler, there are two small green ones available, and plenty of time to think about it.  

The Long Saga of the Kitchen Remodel

When I moved into my house in 2008, I fell in love with the kitchen. Sure, it's small, and the decor screamed 1990, but it had affixed counters and cabinets, a double sink with a window over it, and a ceiling fan, which my previous house did not. It was the only modern room in a 102-year-old house, and it worked for its purpose. It was a joy to cook in.

But as the years went by, I regretted how very dark it was. Then I found out how cheaply-made those counters and cabinets were, as the particleboard counter disintegrated, the drawers failed, and the cabinet shelves sagged. When we replaced the dishwasher, it couldn't be braced because what was left of the counter underneath was so soft. Meanwhile, the edges of the flooring started to roll up because the trim was falling apart. We gave up on the recessed fluorescent lighting because the tubes were impossible to replace. Whoever installed them left too little room to remove the covers without breaking them. The ceiling fan/light was okay, but a centered light alone just throws shadows over your counter work. A note on the "before" pictures. Keep in mind that when a remodel is scheduled but you have to wait for the contractors to rip it out, you tend to cease any real cleaning.

Be warned that this story is kinda long, but you can skip to the pictures easily. I actually edited out a lot of it to moderate my displays of rage and misery. Writing the long version was cathartic, but it doesn't all need to be aired.

19 Years

Can you believe that Miss Cellania has been a thing for 19 years? Most years, when this anniversary comes around (if I don't forget it, which I have quite a few times), I tend to go through a history of the site, or else reminisce about the beginning of the blog. I think I'll forego all that this year and save it for the 20th anniversary. By then I hope to be fully retired and able to put a real effort into it.

Instead, let's look at where we've come. You know that the advent of social media caused an explosion in numbers of people who use the internet, yet most of those new users never venture into the wider world wide web. It's also sucked a lot of users away from traditional blogs because it's just easier to rely on Facebook or Twitter or Instagram to feed people what they want to see, based on algorithms that know what they've read previously. Therefore, traffic for traditional blogs is down everywhere.

In the last few years, maximizing profit has gotten so out of hand that half of what you see is padded word count for SEO (search engine optimization) purposes and filled with ads where illustrations should be. A lot of the information is straight copied from other sites or rendered by artificial intelligence. I can't say that I produce quality or original content because I'm a link blogger, but at least I steer people to other sites and credit the source of the things I share, without the unnecessary padding. And I try to avoid using junk sites. Old school, ya know. But surfing the 'net to find quality things to link to is getting harder all the time.

Meanwhile, so many of the bloggers that I admired at the beginning have given up, moved on to other things, or are stuck in a loop of chasing dollars to support their habit. Some have died. Yes, there are still some old school hobby blogs around; you can see some in the "Recommended Blogs" section in the sidebar here. But there are fewer of them every day. I've been lucky in that I never invested anything in Miss Cellania. I've never had to depend on this site for a living. It's my hobby. Therefore, no desperation.

Lest you think this post is a downer, let me get to the point. Blog traffic is down everywhere, but I've noticed over the last couple of years that Miss Cellania is doing relatively well, with more people coming here than some surprising and profitable legacy blogs. And I can vouch for the quality of the readers. Many of you I consider friends! I guess people settle down to stick with what they like, and I can attribute the longevity of this blog to the readers who keep coming back to see the stuff I like, because you like it, too.

And that's why I do this. Miss Cellania is basically a place for me to share things that I find funny, informative, or at least interesting with friends. And I am exceedingly grateful to my friends who come here to see those things. Thank you all from the bottom of my heart. Pat yourself on the back, for keeping Miss Cellania around for 19 years!      

Top image from Married to the Sea.