On my igoogle home page, I use Weather Bug to show the temperature for Cookeville, TN, where we live and Novi, Michigan where YD lives. Here's the thing. The temp and forecast displayed ARE NOT FOR COOKEVILLE. Nope. They are for Crossville, 40 miles away and 800 feet high in elevation. So when the temp appears to be 78 degrees in Cookeville, that is really the temp in Crossville.
The odd thing is that Novi's forecast temperature is 94 degrees and they have a weather alert. Crossville/Cookeville's forecast is 94 degrees and no weather alert. Believe me, if they are forecasting 94 degrees at an elevation of 2000 feet, that is worthy of a weather alert!
Also, check out cousin Karen's Relatively Speaking blog today.
Copyright 2010, ACK, for Generational
Monday, July 5, 2010
Sunday, June 20, 2010
Special Edition - Happy Father's Day!
There are times, like today, that I really miss my dad. Or during the hockey season. Or when something needs to be fixed. I find I have started "channeling" him. Like giving one of the daughters a tickling pinch at the waist while making a weird noise. I remember as a kid, trying to see how close I could get to him and just staying out of waist pinch, weird noise range.
Now I find myself saying "Hank" words, such as pritnear (pretty near). Or one of his favorite phrases "Colder than a witches tit." Or trying to figure out which of his granddads was Peepaw and which one was Popoo. Popoo was how my kids referred to him. That great mystery solved - Peepaw was his grandfather Percival, grandfather Bowman was Popoo - I remember calling him when something needed fixing, replacing or installing (dishwasher, 1984, Redford township.) My dad loved being called on to fix things. And he loved telling us how to do things, because his way was the only way. I even remember him telling me how to get someplace in the town where I grew up.
My dad would occasionally tell stories of his childhood, and one time while on vacation with some of us, he told a story of a proper dinner party his parents held in Detroit. Then he cracked us up with the caveat: This was before my mother died. Okay, so it didn't take much to make us laugh. My dad was a real softy under a tough outer skin. He'd get that real strict look on his face at dinner time and in the next instant make us spit milk out through our noses.
Coming from a large family of one brother and 4 sisters, I swore I would marry an only child, which I did. I know he is still sometimes speechless when we all get together since we are a bit of a loud, rowdy family. Sometimes I'm not sure that he is just speechless or just can't get in a word edgewise!
I married a man like my dad. No my DH is in no way handy. He worked a desk job all those years with numbers and finance being his strong suits. But his family always came first like my dad. He is always happier at home, than away from home. He loves to travel like my dad, for which I am eternally grateful. He is a warm loving man and not afraid to show it, even if he sometimes presents a stern countenance.
To my DH! You are the best father to our kids, that a man can be. I'm so glad I gave you the chance!
Copyright 2010, ACK, for Generational
Now I find myself saying "Hank" words, such as pritnear (pretty near). Or one of his favorite phrases "Colder than a witches tit." Or trying to figure out which of his granddads was Peepaw and which one was Popoo. Popoo was how my kids referred to him. That great mystery solved - Peepaw was his grandfather Percival, grandfather Bowman was Popoo - I remember calling him when something needed fixing, replacing or installing (dishwasher, 1984, Redford township.) My dad loved being called on to fix things. And he loved telling us how to do things, because his way was the only way. I even remember him telling me how to get someplace in the town where I grew up.
My dad would occasionally tell stories of his childhood, and one time while on vacation with some of us, he told a story of a proper dinner party his parents held in Detroit. Then he cracked us up with the caveat: This was before my mother died. Okay, so it didn't take much to make us laugh. My dad was a real softy under a tough outer skin. He'd get that real strict look on his face at dinner time and in the next instant make us spit milk out through our noses.
Coming from a large family of one brother and 4 sisters, I swore I would marry an only child, which I did. I know he is still sometimes speechless when we all get together since we are a bit of a loud, rowdy family. Sometimes I'm not sure that he is just speechless or just can't get in a word edgewise!
I married a man like my dad. No my DH is in no way handy. He worked a desk job all those years with numbers and finance being his strong suits. But his family always came first like my dad. He is always happier at home, than away from home. He loves to travel like my dad, for which I am eternally grateful. He is a warm loving man and not afraid to show it, even if he sometimes presents a stern countenance.
To my DH! You are the best father to our kids, that a man can be. I'm so glad I gave you the chance!
Copyright 2010, ACK, for Generational
Friday, June 18, 2010
Always an Adventure, Part II
Still enjoying the fresh, non-stale elevator air and back home. Holiday Inn Express did end up comping the room for the second night, and we are glad to say that they have a meeting scheduled for next week to refresh ALL the employees on proper procedure in case of a power failure and guests stuck in elevator. Hope it never happens again!
Copyright 2010, ACK, for Generational
Copyright 2010, ACK, for Generational
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