## THREE-QUARTERS OF A POUND – Marilyn Armstrong

I was out of lunch meat, so Garry went to the deli. It was Monday and they were out of everything except (sigh) turkey breast. Not my favorite, but I’m betting today is a delivery day.

Garry asked the newest lady at the counter for 3/4 of a pound of turkey breast.

Like a deer caught in headlights, she was lost. She could probably “do” a pound — or half a pound. But what was 3/4? She obviously didn’t recognize it as 75% of a pound, or even that it’s likely the line between the half pound and full pound markers.

Schools don’t teach math in any way that might be useful to those they have taught. They have gotten into systems so complicated that no one under 40 can do any math in their head. They need a calculator. Even to subtract one number from another. Oh, and they can’t count on their fingers.

Eventually, the boss stopped what he was doing and came over to rescue her.

Garry came home. He commented that there’s a scale and surely the young women (in her 20s) could tell that there was a line between half a pound and one pound and that would be the three-quarter, right?

Wrong. She doesn’t know that 3/4 (of one) = 75% (of one). Have you ever tried to explain to a clerk how to turn 99-cents into a dollar?

“Look, I’ll give you a penny and you can give me a dollar.”

“It says 99-cents.”

“So that means that if I give you a penny, you can give me a dollar.”

“It says 99-cents.”

This is because she doesn’t understand that 100 cents (pennies) equal one dollar. We are worried that our “below age 40” youngsters aren’t going to vote. I’m beginning to worry that they can’t think. Apparently, thinking is no longer taught in any school. So if you don’t get a head start at home with the whole “thinking” thing? You’re doomed.

Vote? If they don’t know that 99-cents plus a penny equal a dollar, how can we expect them to vote? Or have a grip on the issues? Or even know what kind of government we have or want?

## BUT MOSTLY, NOT PINK: DAY ELEVEN – Marilyn Armstrong

#### BUT MOSTLY, NOT PINK: DAY ELEVEN

I took pictures today. I made sure there was at least some pink in them, not counting our Renegade which is definitely, positively, and totally orange.

But this picture tickled me because not only is the car in the pink, but there’s pink if you look for it. Or, pinkish, anyway.

## KAMMIE’S NEW ODDBALL CHALLENGE – Marilyn Armstrong

Welcome, Kammie to the Oddball World where anything goes. I’m delighted you took over this challenge because I really didn’t know what to do with all those funny pictures!

## STABILITY AND GRACE – Marilyn Armstrong

As a start, I am totally convinced that a “stable genius” would have to be Mr. Ed. There was never a stable genius as well stabled and genius-like as he was.

As for stability and grace?

If I walk with utmost care, I can look almost graceful until I hit a bump and fall down.

In Israel, I was told I would grow old with grace. They didn’t mean physically because no one ever accused me of being graceful. They meant spiritually graceful. I’m not sure that’s true. Mostly, I think I’m really quite cranky and these days, crankier than ever.

As for stability?

I tread carefully so I won’t fall down. When you fall down and you are 9 or 10, no one worries. They pop up back on your feet, dust you off and tell you to get on with it. When you are 70 plus, they go into a tizzy and start dialing 911. If I had no better reason for not falling down, that would be a good one.

Hey, I have a great idea. Let’s play a game.

You be “Stable” and I’ll be “Grace.” We’ll run the country together, okay?

## UP ON THE HILL – Marilyn Armstrong

### Photo Weekly Challenge – Top of the Hill

From the top of the hill to the flowing river below. From the road around the base of the mountain, a climb to the top.

Top to bottom, bottom to top, there’s always a hill and a path to climb or descend.

While looking down across the plains, the valley, the river, the ocean from the top of the hill or a mountain.

## WILDFLOWERS: DAY TEN- Marilyn Armstrong

### WILDFLOWERS – DAY TEN

Wild and bright pink and living along the fencing of the farm down the road. It’s there for the cows to enjoy and I’m sure they do.

About as pink as you can get, too!

## THE TENACIOUS WEEKEND – Marilyn Armstrong

##### Weekend

Weekends used to speed faster than the mosquito you’re trying to smack. When I was working, there were a few things you knew about them.

1 – You weren’t going to get half the things done you had planned because there weren’t enough hours to fit them into one weekend;
2 – You knew how much you hated your job by how whether you hated it on Friday night or didn’t hate it until Sunday;
3 – Why didn’t people make weekdays an hour and a quarter longer so you could have a three-day weekend?

A three-day weekend was enough time to sleep for one day, do stuff that needed doing on another, and have some fun on the third. That one extra day of not-working was a big deal.

Towards the end of my working years, much of it was spent working electronically from home, so the pressure to somehow get “everything” done on the weekend was greatly reduced and of course now, retired, I find weekends annoying because offices are closed and I can’t deal with “stuff.” I have to remember to do them on Monday — or Tuesday in case I forget on Monday.

Retirement, after a few years during which you keep time like you used to, starts to be all of a piece. Every day is like every other day. The only reason I have an inkling of which day of the week is passing is that I schedule posts in advance. Also, when I’m planning out bill payments, I need the calendar. And, I need to remember the beginning of the month because that’s when I give the dogs their heartworm medicine.

I check the calendar to see when we have doctors appointments.

All of this makes me think about time, calendars, weekdays, weekends. Other than appointments that occur on a specified schedule, do the weekends matter? Are they relevant? Do I care whether it is the ninth of the months or the eleventh? Other than calculating the arrival of our Social Security checks, how does calendar time affect my reality?

Effectively, time barely matters. The seasons’ matter, but I have a better sense of the seasons from being outside and feeling the weather than via the calendar. Summer is longer, winter is long and the in-between seasons — the good time — are much shorter.

Time slows in winter and the weeks go slowly when you can’t go out much. Winter lasts a long time in New England, especially when the snow begins early and the cold of winter lasts until late.  Birthdays become increasingly less critical as you get older. Not only less critical but sometimes rather unpleasant.

I don’t want to turn 72 in March. I’m pretty sure Garry doesn’t want to become 77 in April and I’m equally sure my son doesn’t yearn to be 50 in May.

Meanwhile, today is Sunday. I don’t remember what I did yesterday. I literally don’t remember anything. It came, it went. The weather is cool this weekend, but it will warm up later in the week — and there’s a possible hurricane wandering around the south Atlantic which might have something to do with us, but we aren’t sure.

I know it’s the weekend because Colbert and Trevor aren’t on, but football has come again. The Red Sox lost yesterday at home against the Astros. Not good.

So basically, Sunday is a day. On Monday, it will rain.