Idiom Make do

Out back, the shop/coach house

   Make do is an idiom. Grammatically, it is a verb phrase, and it means to use what one has on hand or to persevere through non-ideal circumstances.  And from the archive of The Word Detective blog, "The “make” in “make do” is our common English verb “to make,” which comes from the Old English “macian” and Germanic roots further back, all with the basic sense of “to build, construct, create.” In English, “make” has developed a dizzying number of derivative uses, from “making dinner” to “making a fire” to “make time” to do something to “make history” or simply “to make it” and achieve a goal. “To make do” falls within the use of “make” to mean “to cause a person or thing to do something,” as in “make someone cry.” (“Make believe,” using the same sense of “make,” originally meant “to make others believe something,” but now means “to pretend to believe.”)

The “do” in “make do” is the common verb meaning “to perform or execute” used in an intransitive sense meaning “to be fitting or appropriate; to suffice,” the same sense found in the expression “That will do.” In the case of “make do,” the emphasis is on “making” something “do” that otherwise might not “do,” might not be quite right or sufficient. “Make do” first appeared in print in that exact form in the 1920s, but Charlotte Bronte used the form “make it do” in her 1847 “Jane Eyre.”  

And that is exactly what I intend for the rest of today, to make do.  Here is why......

Our driveway snowplow guy came very early, in the dark this morning before it had stopped coming down. Jerry said it was still dusting flurries when he got up at 6:30 AM so the driveway got about another inch or so after he plowed it and then the city snowplow was by too, third time clearing the street since yesterday afternoon.  That means there is a pile of snow at the end of our driveway, residue from the city plowing.  .  It started snowing yesterday afternoon and continued, as predicted, a winter blast.  Well it is mid January, expect no less in MN. 

Bunny hugged the garage door

I noticed an errant snow bunny that sometimes takes refuge under the front juniper had cut across the steps and stayed close to the garage going across the driveway, leaving bunny tracks in the snow. So I went out to clear the steps & path, & 

Bunny stepped up  the steps

 to clear the drive.    But  not today. I had to surrender,  half-way,  just is too  cold and getting icy.  So I retreated indoors, winter wins this round,  fortunately do not have to go anywhere and will skip mass tonight too as the temps dip farther down.  This is how I finished, but as if getting in one more, "take this" the wind kicked in and blew snow off the roof dusting over the steps and part of the driveway.  Not playing nice at all.  But as I do not plan to venture out it can stay and I will make do inside.  After all this is bed sheet laundry day and I have tasks awaiting.  So winter wins,  I am wimping out.

Incompletely cleared driveway

These Boots

Outside stepper boots

These days and the snow is on its way again, I get workouts several times a day putting on my boots and taking them off again when I come back inside.  Used to be Jerry did snow blowing and had his one pair of boots here on this mat sometimes he just walked in and out with his regular boots on and was not changing, but not me.  I have inside and outside footwear.  And as I am the one with outside duties, minor shoveling because we pay for plowouts; trips to the mail box down the driveway daily, sometimes twice if I put mail out for pick up; and depending on the week trash or recycle bin hauling down the driveway and then later retrieval.  I do not wear my inside shoes out there and this winter invested in these  two  different but heavy durable boots for winter, heavy soles that prevent me from slip sliding when it is glazed or icy.  And a pair of older clogs that do if it is just a quick easy trip down a clear driveway.  It does get tiresome changing shoes daily for this and that.  . 

Newest standing tall grey leather walking boots, short tan
leather Clarks on the shelf now in their 5th year. 

Uggs and sideways my favorite brown high boots

Oh, I have  plenty of other boots too that I wear out and about to church, to shopping, errands and to the Y where I change again into tennis workout shoes. These next two photos are either side of the  closet where the shoes have their own wall but the boots are now out for the season and stay nearby on the floor for selection.  I think a couple pair are my favorites, the tall brown leather boots because I have worn them for years, had the heels replaced at the shoemakers, fortunately we have such service  here.  I wore those boots in Europe all over in 2015, they  have traveled well and have seen a lot. And then there are my Uggs, of which I have always a couple pair for winter, two short ones, one pair not shown here the short new tan ones but the grey pair, almost worn out, standing on the floor.  Those will not be put back up onto the shelf this spring.   And those high Uggs, dark browns are just great in the wintry weather especially with skinny jeans or tights.  They are so warm.  The only thing is I do wish they and the  shorties had more of a heel, they are all flat and I do prefer some elevation.  Still the warmth of Uggs cannot be shrugged off. I am fortunate to have this huge bedroom walk in closet, some friends here say it is bigger than their bedrooms, and so it may well be.  But that allows me plenty of space to rebox winter boots and store them away on top the shelves until the next winter. Having so many gives me the options and so many of the boots last and sometimes I  just tire of them or realize I will not be wearing them like the high heeled ones I brought from CA and donated.  That high of a heel is just not for me any longer although I still admire spikes heels...Past memory.    

  Ahh, it has been so cold I almost wish it were March, but as time goes so fast I will not wish it away, just  endure the winter.  Someone asked me the other day how many boots I had and I  really do not know anymore than how many pair of shoes I have, or how many sweaters.  All I know is, can never be enough, there is always a new pair or two to add each season.   I have an aunt and a cousin, her daughter who count everything they have down to pairs of socks, underwear...I always thought that strange but Aunt Pearl says she has always counted her things.  

Cold enough to freeze the balls off a brass.....

view out front

It is a clear vibrant blue sky, but bitter cold day here with high of 12 degrees and we have reached that.  I  had to run an errand uptown and I use the term run freely, I drove, too cold for me  to walk let alone run, it is too cold for me to get out there and shovel the other front walkway and more snow is on the way tomorrow.  Well, people can use the other front door, the steps closest to our garage and enter through the hallway into the kitchen instead of the living room.  I often wondered why we had 2 front doors on this home, but in this weather that is a good thing.  If the  rest of the walk is not cleared, no problem, people can enter in the first door and if someone is insulted, not my problem, get over it. .

Not a track nor a bird in the bush

I bundled up in my newest parka and head  cover, mittens I purchase in 2015 in Austria when Carlie and I were on our Danube Christmas markets cruise.  Sadly she passed suddenly over a year ago and with her, my international travel partner.  Just walking acrosss the street to the parish office from the school lot this morning was a wake up!  As I returned home and looked at our snow I noticed something most unusual for here, no tracks, not a squirrel, rabbit, deer mark to be found, not even a bird in the bush.  All critters have hunkered down against this tundra wave.    .

An old saying came to mind today, "cold enough to freeze the balls off a brass monkey"  and having not too much to do, I googled it and learned interesting information about the source.  https://www.grammar-monster.com/sayings_proverbs/freeze_balls_off_brass_monkey.htm?fbclid=IwAR0SbVlCBE5crQ0uLcd-lQctA0GZ1-STNf2all0GacGC_Yz87XZUTF5whRM

If you follow the link you will learn: To freeze the balls off a brass monkey means it is very cold. now that I knew.  But I never saw a brass monkey.....

"Early references to brass monkeys in the 19th century have no references to balls at all, but instead variously say that it is cold enough to freeze the tail, nose, ears and whiskers off a brass monkey; or hot enough to scald the throat or singe the hair of a brass monkey. All of these variations imply that an actual monkey is the subject of the metaphor, with balls being the surviving phrase.

It is widely believed that a brass monkey is a brass tray used in naval ships during the Napoleonic Wars for the storage of cannonballs (piled up in a pyramid). The theory goes that the tray would contract in cold weather, causing the balls to fall off. This theory is discredited by the US Department of the Navy and the etymologist Michael Quinion and the OED's AskOxford website for five main reasons:

·         The Oxford English Dictionary does not record the term monkey or brass monkey being used in this way.

·         The purported method of storage of cannonballs (round shot) is simply false. Shot was not stored on deck continuously on the off-chance that the ship might go into battle. Indeed, decks were kept as clear as possible.

·         Such a method of storage would result in shot rolling around on deck and causing a hazard in high seas. Shot was stored on the gun or spar decks, in shot racks (longitudinal wooden planks with holes bored into them, known as shot garlands in the Royal Navy), into which round shot were inserted for ready use by the gun crew.

·         Shot was not left exposed to the elements where it could rust. Such rust could lead to the ball not flying true or jamming in the barrel and exploding the gun. Indeed, gunners would attempt to remove as many imperfections as possible from the surfaces of balls.

·         The physics do not stand up to scrutiny. All of the balls would contract equally, and the contraction of both balls and plate over the range of temperatures involved would not be particularly large. The effect claimed possibly could be reproduced under laboratory conditions with objects engineered to a high precision for this purpose, but it is unlikely it would ever have occurred in real life aboard a warship.

(Thanks to T.W. Hanna for this entry)

A Competing Theory

In the past, war ships carried iron cannons, which required cannon balls nearby. The cannon balls were stored in a square pyramid with one ball on top, resting on four, resting on nine, which rested on sixteen. In order to prevent the sixteen balls from rolling away, a metal plate called a monkey with sixteen round indentations was secured near the cannon. As iron rusts quickly, the plate was made of brass. Whilst the rusting problem may have been solved, brass contracts much more and quicker than iron in cold weather. As a consequence, when the temperature was extremely cold, the brass indentations would shrink and the cannon balls would roll off the monkey. The temperature was therefore cold enough to freeze the balls off a brass monkey. "

And there you have it, we do what we can to entertain ourselves inside in the arctic here.  But above all we are thankful for a warm comfortable home, and endless projects to keep us entertained.   

Snow and a cold week ahead means time inside

down the front driveway

Another day and more snow, but at least our plow guy was at work and cleared us.  The weather changes my plans and I will be staying put inside another day.  I had planned to go to Sam's today but pass now.  Roads will be clear but I dislike being out there in this when there is no need. 

This will be my 2nd day stuck inside, confined to quarters and I am not pleased because the week ahead looks similar.   Yesterday I was  more philosophical, "at least we are warm and comfy"  and I spent an afternoon watching a Netflix, movie, The Two Popes" starring Anthony Hopkins as Pope Benedict and Jonathan Pryce who portrays Pope Francis when he was Cardinal Gorgoglio.   I had read reviews that the movie portrayed Benedict negatively so I was prepared for that but was quite pleased that I did not detect any traces of that.  In fact I enjoyed the move, here on our big screen on my own schedule and will watch it again. 

Our big screen surround sound, my home comfort

I shared my thoughts on FB, "  decent portrayal of the magnificence, the pageantry, news clips are well blended, and the negative reaction of some toward Ratzinger Pope Benedict, from the beginning are not couched. Anthony Hopkins portrayal is outstanding, as I expected...a line I found comical, from Benedict, "it was easier when everyone spoke Latin" , another between Pope and cardinal, "no, no, no let us sit and be quiet, I know you like to talk but I' m exhausted."   

Although there is a lot to yet watch on Netflix or Amazon I decided to do more clearing out today, making the best of a bad situation, I have cleaned out another shelf stack of papers and old clippings, articles, things I have accumulated, things I think will be interesting later on, and  well, just things.  So today most of those went into the waste paper to be placed out with the recycle bin tomorrow, pick up day.  
I will have to cure myself of clipping and saving for later, for what?  I have managed to almost completely stop doing that with recipes, which I have organized into binders, categorized, but  seldom refer to any.  Instead I  have a couple go to favorite cookbooks and my own favorites that I prepare.  So having overcome that habit surely in 2020 I can quit clipping and acquiring other clutter.  

However just this week a friend shared on FB the best post I have read about grief for a long time.  I share it here and will not be printing it and saving it on my shelf for later.  Fresh progress for me.  So  here it is, the source  is 2015 so it has been around for some time, Gary Snow published it originally and it was on a website known as Reddit or something like that, but if one googles, it is out there all over, many have shared on their blogs and posts.  It is purportedly written by an old man in response to a young woman who is grieving the loss of her friend and she does not  know how to handle her grief.  Having lost all 3 of my oldest closest friends and our only son, all our old relatives, I  certainly relate to his wisdom"  

              Alright, here goes. I'm old. What that means is that I've survived (so far) and a lot of people I've known and loved did not. I've lost friends, best friends, acquaintances, co-workers, grandparents, mom, relatives, teachers, mentors, students, neighbors, and a host of other folks. I have no children, and I can't imagine the pain it must be to lose a child. But here's my two cents.

I wish I could say you get used to people dying. I never did. I don't want to. It tears a hole through me whenever somebody I love dies, no matter the circumstances. But I don't want it to "not matter". I don't want it to be something that just passes. My scars are a testament to the love and the relationship that I had for and with that person. And if the scar is deep, so was the love. So be it. Scars are a testament to life. Scars are a testament that I can love deeply and live deeply and be cut, or even gouged, and that I can heal and continue to live and continue to love. And the scar tissue is stronger than the original flesh ever was. Scars are a testament to life. Scars are only ugly to people who can't see.

As for grief, you'll find it comes in waves. When the ship is first wrecked, you're drowning, with wreckage all around you. Everything floating around you reminds you of the beauty and the magnificence of the ship that was, and is no more. And all you can do is float. You find some piece of the wreckage and you hang on for a while. Maybe it's some physical thing. Maybe it's a happy memory or a photograph. Maybe it's a person who is also floating. For a while, all you can do is float. Stay alive.

In the beginning, the waves are 100 feet tall and crash over you without mercy. They come 10 seconds apart and don't even give you time to catch your breath. All you can do is hang on and float. After a while, maybe weeks, maybe months, you'll find the waves are still 100 feet tall, but they come further apart. When they come, they still crash all over you and wipe you out. But in between, you can breathe, you can function. You never know what's going to trigger the grief. It might be a song, a picture, a street intersection, the smell of a cup of coffee. It can be just about anything...and the wave comes crashing. But in between waves, there is life.

Somewhere down the line, and it's different for everybody, you find that the waves are only 80 feet tall. Or 50 feet tall. And while they still come, they come further apart. You can see them coming. An anniversary, a birthday, or Christmas, or landing at O'Hare. You can see it coming, for the most part, and prepare yourself. And when it washes over you, you know that somehow you will, again, come out the other side. Soaking wet, sputtering, still hanging on to some tiny piece of the wreckage, but you'll come out.

Take it from an old guy. The waves never stop coming, and somehow you don't really want them to. But you learn that you'll survive them. And other waves will come. And you'll survive them too. If you're lucky, you'll have lots of scars from lots of loves. And lots of shipwrecks.

Then again, I had clipped this, "Albert Einstein said that only 2 things are infinite the universe and human stupidity and I am not sure about the former"  With that, back to clutter clearing time here on another snow day.  How I wish we were down south in our motor coach.....living the life we planned.

            .  

Forehead smacked moment 2020

Today I caught myself again, trying to save something so not worth it.  For several months I have considered dumping the old tattered stained, cookie sheet.  After all, I have others to use.  But being parsimonious I kept using it.  Mostly I line it with foil and then toss the layers of foil, I just used it Friday lined to bake some frozen French fries and our salmon dinner.  Tossed the foil, and returned the cookie sheet to the cupboard.  

Well today I took an apple pie from the freezer and set it on the sheet.  For some reason I did not line the dheet with foil.  I have seldom baked a pie that did not bubble over, so I try to prevent an oven mess.  Yet I thought this pie might not bubble over much, it had been frozen since early October.  Who knows why I think the way I do.  

Dirty baked on cookie sheet

I began to smell something dark, burning scent, yep my pie had bubbled over onto the sheet!  Phew, glad I used it or would have had to run the self cleaning oven and open the kitchen window on this 25 degree day.  Even then there woukd have been oven scrubbing needed from the burnt pie filling, sugar...So after the pie was dine, I began to scrub this sheet, using a knife to scrape and an SOS pad to scour.  Not much luck, major burnt on not disappearing.   Jerry asked me why I was bothering reminding me that DO had just mentioned tossing it and using one of my others.  Duh!  Forehead  smack! 

New cookie sheet, rim, unstained

It is not like I do not have others, in fact the twin was right there, beans  sparkling new, shiny.  I have another, even heavier, nicer, but this will be just fine.  I also have a couple other which are not rimmed but are very good, high quality.  So I can toss the nasty worn one out, with no guilt.   I certainly have gotten my money's worth out of it over the years.  

And the Apple pie nicely baked, just waiting to be cut and served this evening.  Notice I put it into foil, so it will not make a mess of the counter tops.  

Blah again but fresh salmon tonite

Down the side of the driveway, picture not from yesterday,
 but it shows  some of the long walk....

Yesterday:  Thursday,  Such a wasted day, but to be positive, I had no need to leave our warm comfy home.  It was wet this morning, as predicted although I never saw it rain.  And sleet, yep, there it was...as I stepped out to take a letter to the mailbox at the end of the driveway it only took me a couple steps to realize  I needed skates for the ice glaze,  this was a very deceptive coating, and yet we had been warned by weather forecasters..So I walked down the grass side.  I was  mailing a card to a local friend who is recuperating in a facility now from hip surgery after her second fall in a year.  Like that's all I'd need to dump myself.  So I made it....these days the mere idea of falling and breaking scares the hell out of me, as someone told me, old folks do not bounce when they fall, they break and despite my striving to maintain physical fitness, the chronology of 75 years is a fact.  Yes my bone density is outstanding to which I can only thank my genes because I have never been a milk drinker and likely did little to build these good bones. I am responsible for and doing it all here, I must prevail, and go on.  No choice. The newspaper and news showed several bad accidents where folks spun out into  poles and worse.  A semi jack knifed toward Madison on I 94 blocking the interstate for a couple hours.  So again, thankful for the little things, that I did not have to emerge and have a warm, safe home to stay put in. I have enough to do, caught up on some financial work onto our Quicken for year end data.  Sometimes I feel like I am back at work again, only then I had a staff of 300 some and did not have to do data entry nor analysis myself.  Much as I can grumble and I do to myself, I know I have a thankful duty too.  

Raw Superior fresh salmon, ready for
 slight dose of EVO and rosemary

Same meal in November, Friday night special here
Superior Fresh Salmon.  this pic
Except for  real SF sourdough tonite

Today, Friday was a better day and began with a zumba workout at the Y.  We had a new  young lean instructor today and for the first time in weeks I really worked up a sweat.  Then it was a grocery store stop at Festival where I picked up some Superior fresh salmon for dinner tonight, at $15.99  per pound the woman next to me at the counter, watching me buy it was astonished.  But I told her it is worth every penny, fresh  aqua ponic  farmed in Hixon, WI, where they do know what they are doing, no massive dirty fish farm there.  My local butcher friend Pete there  had just put it out, said they had just gotten it off the truck 30 minutes ago and laughed that I must have a 6th sense about when they deliver because at many times I have followed the fresh deliveries.  There is nothing like fresh.    I also enjoy the Superior  fresh lettuces and mixed greens, I pay a little  more than the bagged commercial versions, but it is worth it to me.   Check out this link to their website  https://www.superiorfresh.com/  even better watch the you tube link, marvelous.https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ihL6RwpKpzA  There is  a personal reward to me to buying very fresh, high quality foods.  

 When we cannot get fresh sockeye flown in from Alaska Copper River, the Superior is the best.  We eat at home all the time now and so I feel no guilt at treating us to exquisite meals.  It will be simple to do besides, roast in the over along with some fresh frozen fries and I have coleslaw and good SF sourdough bread.  Wine for me and a gourmet feast another night..  At least I do enjoy cooking, just wish Jerry were  a bit better and not having the unpredictable coughing spells so I could invite friends in to share with us.  

2020 New Year same activities

Jerry with Florence, Dianne and Marian Dianne's daughter

I continue to try to divest, toss, and when lucky share with those who can and appreciate my pass alongs.  Today it is more photos, which I scan first and will send along to granddaughter.  Found some from 1997, Newcastle, CA when  we hosted a surprise 80th birthday party for Jerry's mom, Florence..  It would be the very last time he and all his siblings were together with their mother, but who knew what twists life would take back then.  Well, this photo shows that indeed Florence was surprised, it was easy, she suspected nothing, not even when her daughter Dianne came from southern CA with her daughter.  Well Dianne, died in  2005. 

 But I decided too send this photo along to granddaughter after all this too was her family, although she along with her father know nothing of this side.  Maybe someday in life she might wonder or stumble across this side of her heritage.  I think it is just  awful how Allen's  mother destroyed this entire paternal side for him,. although Florence tried to keep the connection.  All water under the bridge.  But as I continue with my  genealogy postings onto Ancestry,  and am contacted by others searching for their links into our families from multiple angles, I  think that someday, perhaps our grand daughter will be curious, might want to know.  The ties are not all that wonderful, some things and connections are not ones we would choose, it is not all pretty, but neither is life and  perhaps another generation or so removed... who knows.  What really is interesting about this photo besides Florence's melt down, she had never had a big surprise party in 80 years, is that Jerry is sporting what  he often grew on his face in winter in CA, his beard like facial hair.  I never did like that and was always glad when he shaved it off.  

1997 January Florence with Janine helping 

  Janine was there at the party and finally happy when she was able to lend her hands to helping her great grandma open presents.  But she will not remember that, still there is a photo.  I think that was in the last batch that I sent her.  She did express that she really enjoyed those photos and was inexplicably emotional over the old photos, of course those were primarily only of her and her parents.  I find that positive.  The emotion is important. Often there are sayings making genealogy rounds that we pay no attention until it is too late.  I know for me, I sure wish I had someone to ask about family things, but I am the last link. Maybe this will ignite in her a desire to know, there is an awful lot of Jerry's saga that neither of his children know.  I suppose they do not care.  But someday it will be too late.  

Marian Herndon Dianne's daughter, Al, Angel, Katie Larson

This photo which I am also sending to Janine has of course her parents, DIL, Angel staring adoringly at husband Al.  But for Janine, I want to plant the seed,  here are other relatives, so far everything has been your mother's side or your father's in SF.  There is more,  Marian, Dianne's daughter would be Janine's cousin, they would have met in Riverside at Florence's burial.  Katie is Janine's aunt, Rod';s wife.  Many years back when Janine visited us here alone they were here too.  They too were at Florence's burial.  So life holds more than the closed circle they have experienced.  I suppose as Jerry said,  what can we expect, Allen's mother raised him with nothing good to say about Jerry, she was and is a despicable person.  It is a wonder Al finally found out for himself.  Yet all the rest, well water under the bridge.  And old photos exist.  

Another friend and I were discussing how this type  of information will soon cease to exist.  Today all photos, mine included are by smart phone, I never make prints.  I do not want them.  What to do with what I have?  Yet, years along, how will people look back and remember, will they, will it matter or is all water under the bridge the way it will be. 

  

Seriously cassette tapes

An old collection cassette tapes

Found a box filled with Christmas cassette tapes in the Christmas closet.  Have not played such things in years, and actually  very rarely play CD's.  Today the music I play is by Alexa who has the wealth and breadth online, somewhere out there, in the cloud.  I shared this on FB and one of my friends wrote about our chronolgy of sounds, how we progressed just in our life times from 45''s, and I still remember the thrill of having my very own little cd record player, it resembled a small suitcase and I could play my Elvis records anywhere that I could plug in.  Now the box of these tapes is a reminder of how audio  technology and home entertainment  has changed.  I have discovered, remembered that we could play these on an old cassette player, a vintage looking Crosley player that we purchased here several years ago to play our LP's.  Well so back onto the shelf went the box. 

 But later that same day I had talked to me enough, conversation with self went something like this:

??? When was the last time you played these?  
 Response Don't know but look there is a Statler Brothers tape, an Otmar Lieber tape, 
???  And though you were supposed to be clearing out junl?
 Response from my heart  But really cannot be junk, so enjoyed these for so many years
???  And repeat when was the last time
 Response  OK well probably in CA because I have an extensive collection of CD's too.
???  And there is something else, you never play CD's either.  Geet a grip it is not like this closet is still not brimming with things.  Someday you will croak and imagine these will go immediately into the trash, so better do it now.  At least save someone from one head shaking moment when they toss and comment, "what the hell was she thinking saving this crap?"  

So I carted the box out, put it upstairs and it will go to either Goodwill or the church rummage sale.  And there someone else can make the decision without agonizing, toss or sell?  By the way not one response on FB to say, "hey send them to me...."  of course not, who plays cassettes?  No one.

Now back to maybe clearing out more stuff, sure there is plenty of room in that storage closet, but get a grip, get rid of it.   

Our downstairs Christmas/Easter/ etc storage closet