Saturday, August 1, 2015
     

Linda's Letters

Saturday, July 25, 2015

As I floated around in my pool the other day, I contemplated life. This is what I concluded:

I am breathing. I am in my pool.

Therefore … life is good.

OK. It's not Dalai Lama. What did you expect? I don't mediate on a mountain in Tibet. I can't do a downward facing dog in yoga. Shoot. I can barely sit on my hind legs and beg like a dog.

What I'm trying to say is, I don't spend a lot of time trying to figure out life.

I want to say, I'm a simple gal with simple needs.

Ahhhh. But then I started to think about it. How simple is simple?

Saturday, July 11, 2015

Oy vey. What a week.

Harry and I worked on our pool deck. After 28 years, it was beyond shabby chic.

I painted all the brown wood white, we tore off old carpeting, laid new Caribbean blue carpeting and added white lattice.

I bought cool new, (but cheap because I'm on a fixed income now,) chairs in tropical blues and greens. When I couldn't find a white table without a glass top, I painted the old one a bright lime green. On a roll, I painted some of my old chairs the same green and bought a bright blue for another.

Harry was beginning to get afraid.

Saturday, June 27, 2015

When I was a kid, I loved Walt Disney. I loved his television shows like "Disneyland," "Walt Disney Presents" and "Walt Disney's Wonderful World of Color."

I was a huge fan of all his cartoons and characters.

When I learned about Disneyland in California, it was a dream of mine to someday go there. I especially wanted to visit Tomorrowland … a vision of the future as far into 1986. I could see his vision of a world with buildings that looked like spaceships and futuristic trains that ran in the sky. Oh, what a world it would be!

Saturday, June 13, 2015

Harry has many titles. He is my Hunter Man, my Fisher Man, my Honey Man … and now he has a new title.

He doesn't like to sit idle for too long. It's just not in his nature. So if he has spare time, he'll still find something to do.

Case in point: We spend Sundays at my mom's. He usually finds chores to do for my mom. Once in a great while he'll find himself choreless. Such was the case a few weeks ago. Roaming over the property, he noticed several carpenter bees and the damage they were doing to Mom's shed.

Saturday, May 30, 2015

How hard could it possibly be to find a good beanbag?

Well, I'm living proof of how hard it can be.

I grew up with a family of beanbaggers.

On any given summer Sunday at my Wernett grandparents' home where many of the clan gathered, some of the men played horseshoes and the rest of the adults and kids would have rousing good games of beanbags.

Saturday, May 16, 2015
SPECIAL TO THE TIMES NEWS @$:Harry Koehler with a 27 inch brown trout, weighing 6 1/2 pounds, caught at the Kunkletown Rod & Gun Club pond.

Recent phone conversation between Harry and Linda:

"Linda, I caught a big fish."

"That's nice dear. How big?"

"Big."

"Bigger than Bubba?"

"Yeah. Bigger than Bubba."

(Bubba is a large mouth bass he caught in Maine several years ago and Harry had him mounted. Bubba now graces a wall in Harry's office/trophy room.)

"It's a brown trout, 27 and inches long. It weighs six and a half pounds."

Wow! Even I knew that was big.

"Did you throw him back?"

"Are you nuts? I'm keeping it. Who would believe me if I didn't have the proof?"

Saturday, May 2, 2015

I have been after Harry for years to go to an eye doctor. But he seems to have an allergic reaction to the word "doctor." So he continues to buy his glasses at Rite Aid or Walmart.

I admit he appears to have 20/20 vision for distance. We can be driving along and he'll see a speck in a field that might be a deer and he'll say, "There's a tick on that deer."

In other words, he only needs glasses for reading and close-up work. While that may be just fine, I'm so tired of hearing, "Where are my glasses?"

Saturday, April 18, 2015

(Reader alert: Please be advised the following article may cause some embarrassment if you read it. But the author believes that by sharing even the most intimate details of one's life, it may help others to know they are not alone. Through humor, it also helps her keep her sanity. Well, that depends on who you talk to, of course.)

I have this "friend." Let's say her name is Melinda. She's going shopping today. She's headed to Bed Bath and Beyond. She's looking for a rubber sheet.

Saturday, April 4, 2015

It was winter. A heavy mantle of ominous foreboding had settled over the village.

Everywhere you looked, it was dismal and gray. The graphite naked branches of the trees against the gunmetal of the sky created an air of somberness that seemed to seep into your pores. Even the whiteness of the snow had become dirty and ashen. It had become a season of 50 shades of gray.

Saturday, March 21, 2015

One of my most favorite writing assignments was when I wrote the cooking column, "Country Cupboard" for the weekly Pocono Post. Each week it featured a local person who liked to cook, or bake, and willing to share their story along with a few of their favorite recipes for the readers.

Besides meeting some really great people, many of them cooked their favorite dishes for me. Talk about perks of the job! Many of those recipes then became favorites of my own family.