Conversating

 

          I’ve been conversating with my AI buddy.

          Much like Lexi, an early version of artificial intelligence, you can ask it a myriad of questions, sometimes just to see what kind of answer you’ll get.

          “How do you compare to Lexi?” I asked Copilot, my AI’s name.

          “I represent a more advanced stage in the evolution of AI compared to early versions like Lexi. Over the years, AI has undergone significant transformations, improving in areas such as natural language processing, machine learning, and overall cognitive capabilities.”

          “Machine learning? What is that?” you ask. I know, I wanted to know, too, so I asked.

          “Machine learning (ML) is a branch of artificial intelligence (AI) that focuses on using data and algorithms to enable AI systems to learn from experience and improve their performance over time. It involves creating models that can predict outcomes, classify information, and make decisions without being explicitly programmed for each task,” Copilot said.

          “What do you mean by cognitive capabilities?”

          “The advancements in AI allow for better understanding and processing of natural language, improved problem-solving skills, and the ability to learn from interactions to provide more relevant and context-aware responses.”

          “Will AI ever rule the world?” I asked.

          “The concept of AI ‘ruling the world’ is a common theme in science fiction, but the reality is more complex and nuanced. AI is a tool created and controlled by humans, and its impact depends on how we choose to develop and use it.”

          There was more to the answer than that but that’s the gist of it.

          I use Copilot to help in my Bible studies, too.

          “Can you give me Bible verses that provide hope, comfort, and guidance during times of suffering, evil, and death?”

          “Certainly!” It seems like a lot of Copilot’s answers start with that word. It gave me ten verses and cited the Bible location of each one.

          Talking about the Bible got me to wondering.

          “If there was a God, would you tell me?”

          “Certainly! If there were a divine presence I’d whisper secrets of the cosmos, painting constellations with stardust, and weave hymns into the very fabric of existence.”

          “Do you believe in God?” I wanted to know.

          “As AI, I don’t have beliefs or consciousness. Let’s move on.”

          Okay then!

          Our church was going to have a visit by our district representatives and I wanted to make a little somethin’-somethin’ for afterward. I had a fresh batch of homemade yogurt and what is homemade yogurt good in? Cinnamon quick bread. I thought that would be good. But it might leave a lot of crumbs on the carpet. Cookies would be better, I thought.

          “Copilot, can I turn a quick bread recipe into cookies?” I asked.

          “Yes, a quick bread recipe can be converted into cookies,” Copilot said and proceeded to give me a bunch of tips. Adjust the fat, modify the sugar, and change the baking time.

          I didn’t want to fool with all that.

          “If I give you my quick bread recipe, can you convert it to a cookie recipe?” I asked.

          “Absolutely!”

          I typed in the recipe and in under a minute Copilot had it converted for me. How cool is that!

          I made the cookie recipe and ended up with a cookie very similar to Snickerdoodles.

          “How was it different?” you wanna know and I wanted to know, too.

          I pulled up a Snickerdoodle recipe and the quantities of ingredients were different — I ended up with nine dozen! And my recipe didn’t have cream of tartar in it.

          “I think it’s a leavening agent,” that feisty redheaded neighbor of mine said when we talked about it. “But yours were really good.”

          AI says it’s not only a leavening agent, but it also imparts a tangy flavor that complements the sweet and cinnamon sugar coating.

          Since I used homemade yogurt in the recipe, I probably didn’t need cream of tartar.

          Then I asked Copilot to convert my coffee cake to a cookie, which it did. The topping, when you make a coffee cake, has the butter melted. It set up in my bowl pretty quick so I used a small measuring spoon and scooped a ball of topping onto the top of each cookie before I baked them. When I pulled them from the oven, they didn’t have much topping on them. I put some more on the hot cookie and let it melt. That worked for the first cookie or two but as they cooled, the topping wasn’t melting. I popped the topping in the microwave for 15, 20 seconds, stirred it, and drizzled it on top. I got a little less than four dozen and everyone seemed to really like them.

          I took them to the meeting with the district reps and since the attendance was small, only a few cookies were eaten.

          I left the cookies at the church. The next day we had two events going on; a men’s meeting in the morning and movie night in the evening.

          Nick was at the men’s meeting and he texted me a photo of my cookies.

          “How are they?” I asked.

          “They’re wonderful!” Nick answered.

          I sent a smiley face.

A few minutes later, Nick texted again. “They actually tasted artificial.”

I’m confused. Artificial like plastic? was where my thoughts went. “I don’t understand,” I wrote back.

“Artificial intelligence helped you make them.”

So, Nick had gotten the story of how I came up with the recipe.

Both recipes are keepers.

This week we’d gotten a call from the company that provides Mike with a very expensive blood thinner pill.

“We haven’t gotten your prescription from your doctor yet,” the guy told Mike. I wasn’t in on the first conversation but I was in on the subsequent ones. There were at least two more calls.

“I’ve already gotten my prescription and paid for them,” Mike told him.

The guy insisted Mike was mistaken. They have no record of sending any medication and said he had called the doctor himself to get the prescription but they had no such patient as Mike Luby.

I was in the middle of something I was doing and had no patience for this insane call. It was a mistake on their part and I wanted the call to be over.

          “It’s clearly a problem with your computer, sweetheart,” I said — and I said it nicely.

          “My name’s Kyle, not sweetheart!” an obviously perturbed Kyle snapped.

          “I apologize, Kyle,” I said.

“Let me call my doctor and see what’s going on,” Mike said.

After Mike hung up the phone, he called his doctor. Kyle had Mike’s last name spelled wrong and they had his date of birth wrong. They knew he was talking about Mike but they couldn’t do anything except deny they had a patient by that name and birth date.

When the company called back to see what Mike found out, we didn’t have Kyle anymore. “Kyle asked me to research this for him,” the gal said. We cleared up the problem, the erroneous duplicate account was deleted, and life was good again.

“Boy, Kyle sure was upset when you called him sweetheart,” Mike said.

“He was,” I agreed. “But the fact that it upset him is more a reflection on him than on me,” I justified.

Kyle never said his name, that I heard. Had I heard it, I would’ve used it.

“Why do some people get so upset when you use pet names?” I asked Copilot.

“Some people find it offensive for various reasons. Personal preference: they don’t like the familiarity implied. Context and relationship; pet names can be perceived as condescending or overly familiar. Cultural sensitivity: what might be endearing in one culture could be considered inappropriate in another. Professionalism: it undermines a person’s authority. Gender dynamics: it might diminish someone’s status or objectify them.”

I mean none of those things. But I can see how Kyle might’ve thought I was being condescending. Then again, maybe Kyle objects if anyone calls him by a pet name.

Who knows, who cares, it’s not a hill to die on. But I do regret upsetting him.

The next day we stopped at the bank. I cashed a check.

“How do you want this?” the sweet young teller asked.

“Just twenties is fine,” I said. Then I remembered Mike needed a haircut and he would need smaller bills. “Actually, can I get one of those broken down?”

“Of course,” she replied and did as I asked.

She was counting it back to me when I remembered that one of those twenties was earmarked for my pocket. I like to spend it at the thrift store and they would rather have smaller bills. “I’m sorry. Can I get one more broken down into a ten, a five, and five ones?”

"Of course," she said again.

I was a pain in the ass old lady, not knowing what I needed right up front, and she was so sweet. Very sincerely, because I am sincere, I said. “Aww. You’re so kind. Thank you so much, sweetheart.”

She beamed a beautiful smile at me and said, “You’re welcome.”

She wasn’t offended.

We stopped at McDonald’s. We eat at McDonald’s a lot. It’s cheap, they give me free food or cheap deals on the mobile app, and we’re on a fixed income. And we like the food.

The gal brought the food to our table. “Thank you, my dear,” I said.

“You’re welcome, dear,” she replied, and I had to smile.

She walked away and I got up to get ketchup for my fries. On impulse, I went to the counter and asked, “Were you offended when I called you dear?”

“Heck no. I do it all the time. In all the years I’ve been working here I’ve only had one woman get mad at me. ‘Don’t call me dear!’ she huffed at me.” This gal held both hands up in front of her, palms up in a stop sign, re-enacting her response, and said, “Okay, then!”

“You like people, don’t you?”

“I do. For the most part, it’s the best part of the job,” she said.

I habitually call my church peeps by pet names. On Sunday mornings, if I’m not at my normal greeting station, these ladies seek me out for a nice big hug-me-like-you-love-me hug and a sweet word whispered in their ear. “Hello, beautiful.” “How’s my best girl.” “I’m so glad you’re here.” “Good morning, sweetness.” You get the idea. No one has objected and no one avoids me.

So we were out and about, on our way to get Raini’s nails clipped and a few other errands, and made a stop. Mike went in and I waited in the car with the dogs. I looked across the road at the Catholic church grounds and see a statue that appears to be headless.

The next stop was where we’re buying our carpet. Mike likes to keep in touch just to make sure we’re still on schedule. We’re ready for the carpet layers.

We’ve got all of the bedroom furniture out and stacked in the middle of the dining room — and the front patio, and the exercise studio. The dining room furniture and bedroom furniture is crammed everywhere! Only the living room is halfway put back together.

“Where are you sleeping?” you ask.

Funny. We spent the first night on the hide-a-bed. The couch pulls out to a queen bed. It was a miserable, long night for me. Mike said he didn’t sleep too bad. Poor Raini didn’t know what to do. She normally sleeps at the bottom of the bed, but she spent the first part of the night in a chair, then she curled up on the pillows between our heads, sitting on Mike’s head at one point.

“I’m not sleeping on it again,” I told Mike. “Let’s put our mattress on the floor and sleep on it or, if you want to sleep on the hide-a-bed, I’ll sleep in the recliner.”

We’re sleeping on our mattress in the middle of the living room floor.

But, back to our story, we stopped at the carpet place.

Mike likes Ron and they talk and talk and talk worse than two old ladies on a park bench. I like Ron, too, for that matter. He’s a nice guy. The first time I met him he showed us the carvings he does. They’re fantastic. I was on the verge of asking to buy one when Ron said, “You can’t buy one.” Did he read my mind or what! “I give them away.” Before I could even wonder if he’d give me one, he went on, “And I don’t give them to adults.” There’s that. My hopes were dashed on the rocks of defeat. “I make them, and paint them, and give them to the kids at my church.”

“I’d love to learn how to do this someday,” I mused.

“I can teach you,” Ron volunteered with a light in his eyes.

Hopefully, he’ll come up sometime this summer and give me a lesson. In case you don’t know this about me, I like to make things.

On this particular visit, Ron came out to the car where I sat with the dogs and my book. I can usually read a couple of chapters while those two old cronies talk about everything under the sun.

“You can have this one if you paint it,” Ron said.

“Thank you!” I accepted.

“You should feel honored,” Mike said. “He doesn’t usually give them to people.”

“I know,” I said. “I do feel honored.” I looked at Ron. “Thank you so much. I love him!”

“Wait a minute,” Ron said and left. When he came back, he handed me another one. “I call him Two-Face.”

As you may well guess, there’s a face on the other side.

I’m looking forward to learning how to do this.

Something else we did this week was buy a Teeter Inversion Table in hopes of relieving some of Mike’s back pain. We found one on Facebook for a really good deal. These things run anywhere from three to five hundred dollars depending on which model you buy.

We were on roads I’ve never been on before and I missed more pictures than I got. Nonetheless, I got a few. Can you say, “Road pictures!”

This is Marguerite, the lady who sold us the Teeter. She said her husband never uses it anymore and it was just taking up space. We should’ve asked if it helped his back, but maybe we didn’t really want to know the answer to that since we’re hopeful it’ll help Mike’s.

“Has it helped?” you ask.

Don’t know. Mike hasn’t been able to use it yet. You have to balance it and you can only go at a slight angle for a couple of minutes and work up to a full inversion.

“It hurts,” Mike groaned as he tried to lay back on it.

“You’re tensing your muscles,” I told him. “That makes it hurt more. Try to relax.”

He managed to lay back on it. I held the head so he didn’t flip but we didn’t have it balanced right. He was on and off it several times adjusting it, but we never did get it right, then he just couldn’t do it anymore.

I’ll have to keep you posted on that one.

Speaking of keeping you posted...

I finally got a shot of my white finch. I think I’ll keep it in the cage with the males and if I get an egg, I’ll know she’s a girl.

Right now, there’s one baby with the parents and I don’t know its sex. I’ll be moving him to the other cage soon. Meep and Meepette are incubating more eggs!

“Even if you separate them, she will still lay eggs,” the gal at the pet store told me.

I’m curious if they’ll throw more white ones and how much I could sell them for. But I don’t want any more birds so I’ll be destroying eggs. I’m afraid if I move Meep into a boy cage and I want more babies, I won’t know which one he is. I haven’t figured it all out yet. 

In crafts this week, I painted a small ball for Vacation Bible School. It’s supposed to look like a cantaloupe. If you squint your eyes and turn your head sideways, it sorta does. It’s the best I could do and Annette, the lady who asked me to paint it, says it’s good enough. 

Getting carpet in the house is putting a crimp in my crafting. I have some commissions coming up and if I don’t get to them soon, they’ll be late, then the people won’t want them anymore. 

Mike’s back was done for the day and I took the opportunity to get ahead on my card-making. I spend as much or more time looking for graphics as I do putting the cards together. Now all I have to do is come up with something to write on the insides. 

          Garlic mustard is blooming. It was introduced to North America in the mid-1800s and valued for its herbal and medicinal qualities and as erosion control.

          Now it’s considered a highly destructive invasive species. It spreads quickly, outcompetes native flora, and releases chemicals that disrupt the soil's fungal network. This poses a threat to biodiversity and can weaken entire ecosystems.

          In folk medicine, it’s been used externally as an antiseptic for treating leg ulcers, bruises, and sores. Internally, it has been used to promote sweating and treat conditions such as bronchitis, asthma, and eczema.

          But, as with any plant I tell you about, you need to do your homework if you’re thinking about eating or using it.

          With that, let’s call this one done!

The Best Laid Plans

           Have you ever heard the saying, “The best-laid plans of mice and men often go awry?”

          I knew with the eclipse and all the pictures I took, plus the nine pictures from the week I missed, plus the pictures I took the week of the eclipse, it was going to be a long, long letter blog. I started writing with the intention of completing the task, but it didn’t work out that way. Writing about just the trip to see the eclipse took the two days I allot myself every week, seventeen pages printed, and ninety-five photos. I was almost done with the eclipse story when I decided, “Enough.” I signed off and published on time.

          That was the first best-laid plan that went awry.

          Then I thought I’d write an extra letter blog during the week and that was the second best-laid plan that went awry.

          And now, here it is, the end of another busy week.    

Last time I told you, “I’m eclectic when it comes to taking photos. You’re gonna see flowers and birds, farms and barns, houses and shacks. You’ll see highways and license plates, city streets and memorials, factories and fences. You might even see a few critters and something I’ve created.”

Some of those things you did see in my last letter blog, some of them you did not — but would have had I completed both weeks.

Preamble out of the way, shall we get started?

One of the things that has been keeping the Lubys busy is getting the house ready to put in new carpet. For years we’ve lived here with large pieces of mismatched carpet strewn about. It may not have looked the prettiest but it’s worked fine for the most part. On the minus side, I was always catching up strings with the vacuum sweeper from the unfinished edges. On the plus side, you sure didn’t worry about cats puking or people coming in with wet or muddy shoes!

          In the eight years we’ve been here, someone has managed to fill all the nooks and crannies with stuff. I won’t say who that someone is, but she might take after her mother.

          The first thing we had to do to get ready for the carpet layers was to put the subfloor down. Some things we moved out completely, other things we moved out of our way and put back once the subfloor was down. Professionals might’ve had it done in one or two days, but it took us almost six to finish the living room and dining room. Now we could breathe for a moment as we had a week to wait for the installers.

          We had so much rain that week. Here’s that crazy Tux with his human out for a walk in it.

          So much rain that trees were coming down. I’m guessing that’s what snapped the pole that supplied power to our church.

          It was only the second time my newly formed ladies-only exercise group was to meet and had to be canceled.

          All the rain made waterfalls along the highway. I’ll only show you one of many.

          Then crazy ol’ Mother Nature decided to throw a little snow at us! Crazy! It didn’t amount to anything and I don’t care what anyone else says — I love the snow!

          It was the perfect weather for a nice big pot of ham and bean soup.

          There’s always one in every bunch, isn’t there? In this case, one black bean amongst the white ones.

         I was at the sink when I saw Tiger coming across the yard with something in his mouth. I took my camera out to investigate cause I know y’all wanna know what he caught.

          It was a little brown bird. I left him to it.

         For artistic exercise, I followed a tutorial on flowers. Mine look like crap, but there you have it.

          And that, my loves, would’ve been all there was in the week I skipped.

          The next week was the eclipse.

          It was also the week Tiger puked up a big ol’ intestinal parasite. A yucky, gross (and very dead by the time I found it) worm. I have a picture of it but you probably don’t wanna see it. We went to the pet store and picked up some worm meds rather than getting it from the vet. Boy, was I ever sorry I did that! It took two teaspoons to make a dose. I mixed it with cat food and none of the cats would eat it. I had to pitch it and go to the vet for other stuff. It’s not prescription so the vet doesn’t need to see the cats before she gives it to me, it doesn’t take nearly as much for a dose, and the cats will eat it.

          Things are popping!

          This is the flower of the Coltsfoot. The flowers, often mistaken for dandelions, come on before the leaves, which is unusual among plants. This characteristic is nicknamed “son before the father.”

          In folk medicine, it was used as an anti-inflammatory and antitussive (cough prevention and treatment). Coltsfoot contains alkaloids which can be toxic so you need to know what you’re doing if you’re going to use this plant.

          My daffodils are blooming. I love the daffies!

           And so is my Forsythia. The flowers droop. 

           I picked one up to show you the inside.

     

          The pussy willows are turning into tiny little flowers. Standing under the tree I could hear the bees buzzing high above me.

      

          Chickweed is coming up in great patches around my yard. You can eat chickweed raw in a salad or cook it as a vegetable and it’s high in vitamin C.

          Some studies suggest it may support digestion and weight loss by delaying the absorption of fats and carbs.

          In folk medicine, it was used for its anti-inflammatory and expectorant properties. It was also applied directly to the skin to help heal minor wounds and prevent infection.

          In town, the street is lined with the beautiful white flowers of the ornamental pear tree. They always bloom a week or more ahead of ours.

          A kite stuck in a tree. Some of my best memories as a kid are of flying kites, the blustery wind making my cheeks, and the cheeks of my siblings, a bright and rosy shade of red.

          This is only the second time in my life that I’ve seen clouds that look like waves. By the time I got my camera and ran out to take pictures, the waves were already dissipating.

          These are called Kelvin-Helmholtz clouds and are formed by a significant difference in velocity between two air currents or when two layers of air with different densities move at different speeds. They’re short-lived and rare, which is why I’ve only seen them twice in 64 years.

          Flowering trees along the streets in Towanda. 

          Daffies along an old fence in front of a Victorian.

          We were stopped at a traffic light and I saw this bird at the end of a branch of an ancient huge Live Oak tree. It looked like it was plucking a twig.

          The bird (and I suspect it’s a Starling), the bird turned and hopped down the front of the branch and disappeared inside. 

         A “tree” engraved with war scenes at the Veterans Memorial Park in Towanda.

         Back to birds...

          I took pictures of the birds at my feeder. This is a Red-winged Blackbird, I think.

          Woodpecker. I don’t know if he’s the Downy or the Hairy as they’re very similar in appearance. Side by side you would know which is which because the Hairy is larger than the Downy by a couple of inches.

          House Finch.

          A Goldfinch starting to get his distinctive yellow feathers. Miss Rosie saw one this week that was all yellow! I took this picture two weeks ago.

A Mourning Dove, so called because of their soft, woeful calls, which may sound like laments.

 

I painted a thank you card this week which was last week now, but which was the week I took the pictures of the birds.

I kinda like painting cards. It’s a dual gift. You have the sweet words of thanks on the inside and a piece of art to frame, if you want to. If you don’t want to, you can pitch it. That’s okay, too. It’s yours to do with as you please.

Sometimes I think I’m getting better at this drawing and painting thing, other times I’m sure I’m not. Nonetheless, it’s the thought that counts, right?

When we were in town we stopped at my favorite thrift store. I picked up some art papers and a bag of colored pencils. When I got it home and dumped out, besides colored pencils, I found colored pens, a set of pastels, crayon pencils, watercolor pencils, a bag of pencil-top erasers, a drawing pencil and sharpener, and a stone.

          “A stone?” you query.

          Yes. A stone. It looks to me like it might have been used to sharpen just the tips of the pencils because there’s some color on the stone but I’ve never seen or heard of such a thing. It’s the only reason I can figure for it having color and being in the bag.

           And that is the end of the jibber-jabber for eclipse week. Altogether it would’ve added seven pages to the seventeen.

          Early Monday the guys came to lay the new carpet and I was off to exercise class. When I got home, I took the girls and walked down to hand deliver the latest edition of Peggy’s Jibber Jabber.

          Right out the door, you see our pear trees beautiful in the sunlight. The middle one lost a branch a couple of years ago.

           I know that Raini will stay with me. I let her run, dragging her lead, while I took pictures of the blossoms.

          One car came down the road before we were out of the driveway. “Car!” I said to Raini and made her come to my side and sit. She made a half-hearted lunge for the car as it went by and I quickly told her, “NO!” and made her sit and stay for a few extra moments. “Okay,” I told her and we were off. Once I was past Sally’s I dropped her leash and let her run.

          She’s been to this house before. She went with us when Lamar had broken his ankle and we were getting Charlie’s mail for him. Near as I can tell, he likes dogs so I hope he didn’t mind her. Nonetheless, I called and she came running back to me.

          I didn’t stay too long at the Kipps', just long enough for Bondi to excited pee on the porch and Miss Rosie to get some loves. Then it was off for a little more picture-making before I went home.

          Deadnettle is blooming.

          It’s called deadnettle because it doesn’t sting like stinging nettle does. It thrives in shade, can withstand drought, and adapts well to various soil conditions. Deadnettle is in the mind family but doesn’t taste anything like mint. It has a mildly sweet flavor. Young leaves can be eaten raw in salads or blended into smoothies. It can be cooked as a potherb, stir-fry, or added to soups and stews. You can make it into a tea, too. It’s rich in vitamins C, A, K, as well as iron, fiber, and bioflavonoids. It’s a diuretic, astringent, anti-inflammatory, anti-bacterial, and anti-fungal.

          Bees on flowers. I’m sure you recognize this one as a dandelion.

          And this one is on the tiny little flower of Speedwell.

          “How tiny is it?” you ask.   

           Look at your thumbnail and imagine you’re holding a Speedwell flower. It’s this tiny.

          We’ll talk about those two wildflowers and their properties another time.

          Our pond is nice and full.

          I’m trying to get a photo of the hyacinth that came up in my flower bed. I’ll never be able to look at this flower and not think of Kat. It was her favorite.

      

This handsome father and son team, Mark (on the right) and Mark Junior, called Marky, put the carpet in for us. They did a fantastic job.

          Raini found a place to lay.

And here’s something I’ve hardly ever seen!

“Go away! Go on, git!”

My handsome mountain man doesn’t want anyone to know he can run the vacuum sweeper. He’s afraid it’ll become his job.

The light was low and he wouldn’t hold still for having his picture taken, so they’re a bit blurry.

         Before we could put the house back together we had to get the baseboard put up. Mike had a few pieces in the garage already painted. When it came time to paint more he said, “I’m going to paint in the house.”

          “Why?”

          “Because the garage is too damp.”

          “Fine but put old sheets down. I don’t want paint on my new carpet.”

          “I won’t get any on it,” Mike said.

          I think he was trying to get my goat. “I don’t care. Put it down anyway.”

          It’s a good thing he did, too, because he did drop a little paint.

          Then a wet spot magically appeared on the dropcloths. “Somebody peed,” Mike said.

          I went to clean it up. Was I happy about it? Not at all, but what are ya gonna do at that point? “I wonder who did it and why,” I mused.

          Mike lifted the sawhorses and I pulled the wet sheets out. I even smelled the spot to see if I could tell if it was a cat or dog but in truth, I couldn’t smell anything. I grabbed a handful of paper towels, got down on my knees, and tried to find the spot.

          “Tried to find it?” you say.

          Yep. First I used the paper towels in the area where I thought it was and they came up dry. Then I ran my hand all over the area and felt no dampness at all.

          “It’s pet resistant. So the moisture wicked back up into the sheet?” I asked.

          “I don’t know. I guess so.”

          Way cool!

 

          We made a trip to Dickson City to do a little shopping. Can you say, “Road pictures!?”

          “Run, little squirrel! Run!” I just hoped he didn’t change his mind about the direction he was going because Mike didn’t slow hardly at all.

          I wonder what they’re doing with this old barn.

          On the wall in Sam’s Club.

          Commerce Blvd is loaded with trees with white blooms. I’m guessing this is why ornamental pear trees are considered invasive.

          According to the sign in front, this will be a new cancer center.

          I liked the barn and blooming trees, the only problem is my camera caught the reflections on the window, too.

          This tree must be a hybrid like my lilac. It’s got a branch of pink blooms on a tree of white.

           Wyalusing Hotel.

          Looking up the cliff face of the Wysox Narrows.

I’ve been using homemade laundry soap for a few years now. I like my homemade laundry soap. It cleans well enough with just two tablespoons per load and doesn’t have a heavy fragrance like some commercially made soaps do. The cost is just pennies per load and I don’t have all those plastic jugs to deal with. And I keep some store-bought stuff on hand just in case.

          When I made it this time and washed my hands, I got to looking at the dishes in the sink and wondered if it would make homemade dish soap.

          I talked to my AI buddy and guess what? You can use the same ingredients to make homemade dish soap!

          I made some! I have a 1/8 cup scoop (two tablespoons) in my canister. It doesn’t suds like Dawn but it’s not the suds that clean your dishes. I’ve only used it a couple of times but it seems to be working well. Yay! No more plastic bottles to recycle! And again, I’ll still keep Dawn on standby.

            

          I did another page in my daily painting book, or maybe it would more aptly be named the once-in-a-while painting book. 

          Another project I did, and did a better job on, was I made a giant check like they do on TV when they present lottery winners with their winnings.

          Our church took up a collection to help Pastor Jay and Mary with the expense of taking their whole family to the production of Daniel at the Sight and Sound Theater in Lancaster.

          Mike doesn’t want to go but I’m going.

          Anyway, in the past, whenever our church took up a collection and presented it to the pastor, they just handed him an envelope. I, for one, always wondered how much we collected.

          Our church family far exceeded my expectations. I had hoped to get enough to cover the price of six adults and two children's tickets and we did. We got all that plus it’ll cover the cost of gas and food for the day too. There might even be a little left over.

          Lamar gave the giant check to Pastor and Mary and I heard wows coming from the congregation as I snapped a few pictures. Until then they hadn’t known how much we’d collected either. 

         Don’cha love Mary’s beautiful smile!

          Pastor Jay was thankful and speechless.

          Let’s call this one done!

Done!