My friend Amy told of moving from bush to bush, working down a row of roses, carefully trimming them. At the end she turned to see the beauty of her work and found her dog had followed after her, bush to bush, and ATE every single stem down to the ground! “And they had big thorns too!” she said.
As she repeated the story to John I interrupted her description of thorn size saying, “And the roses killed the dog?”
“No they didn’t.” Amy said.
My return was, “Is your dog still alive?”
“No.”
“Did he die before or after he ate the rose stems?”
“After.” Amy said.
“Well them,” I said, “That proves it! My Dad talked me into taking a logic class in college. I can show you a formula proving rose bush eating dogs die as a result of eating thorny rose stems. In fact, I bet I can prove rose bushes that eat dogs die too.”  nancymauerman.com

Several types of kiwi grow in Portland, Oregon, the plants we selected required a male and female to produce fruit. The male is a bigger plant with larger leaves and flowers, the female develops fruit early and they are are full sized by July but hang around until November to be sweet. Our neighbors salivate until then but my cats are enjoying kiwi right away. They love the new curly shoots, chewing the juice out of them and rubbing it behind their ears like Parisian perfume.  nancymauerman.com

I heard a woman living and serving as a congresswoman in Ireland extremely angry because the USA has lost the rule of law and integrity. She said the world looks to the USA as the country they measured themselves against.
This reminds me of High School, where I could see my fellow students were greatly affected by their families. Normal, in some homes, was violent, abusive, angry and full of crude language but at school the same students lived a different standard because normal was defined and on a higher plain. We were not to swear, fight, or scream when frustrated or look for opportunities to hate. This was “normal”; a few were far beyond this standard in goodness, a few below in behavior, most lived the norm.
I think what she was saying is the USA sets the norm: she’s angry to see it fall.nancymauerman.com

I’m so lucky! I can’t sleep well at night so I get to sleep about four times a night!nancymauerman.com

A door knob is like a beautiful question. Whereas a sentence has a period; an end, we turn door knobs and open questions; brainstorming and endless what IFS are born.
Tell me what is more intriguing? This: can an ice cube be a pet? Would a kid with a cube- pet pull it around on a rope in a refrigerated clear box on wheels to keep it safe and allow it to see everything it passes? Would it hiss or bark? Can someone make a refrigeration unit small enough? Why not have refrigerator magnets with doors into minute worlds? Wouldn’t it be better to have a clear force field around the cube and another around the kid, each at a different temperature? How would the fashion industry change if we didn’t have to respond to changes of temperature? How would it look to have a man, in bathing trunks, walking hand in hand with a girl in a wool suit and fur coat?
Or is this more stimulating? I’ll write the book and title it Johnny’s Cube-Pet Meets It’s End.
Ah, you’re thinking the sentence IS interesting because what end does cube- pet meet? Is the end a puddle or steam? Is there a nemesis manipulating the end? Of course by now you’ve noticed the question marks.
What come first; the question or an answer? I don’t know, but what I do know is; a question is more important than an answer, so polish up your door knobs and notice how much you don’t know.nancymauerman.com

Glass Doorknob

I often hear war causes such hardships that Americans work together and not only solve the problems but invent wonderful things at these times. I’m not so sure we need war to do that. I saw a young couple try to fit a large cadenza into their small car, a passer by saw the problem and offered to drive their furniture to their home for them in his truck. At the same place on a different day a man who’d taken the bus knew he could buy the big item he wanted because he knew he could stand outside the store and ask for a ride home, adding he’d love to pay for the ride. Very soon someone had time and a car and took him, but didn’t need the pay.
I love Americans, and I love that goodness is not legislated but given freely, this way we get a jolt of joy.nancymauerman.com

I’m grandma- aged but I have cats instead! Formica Dinnette Patrice Foxford Mauerman is the name of one and other is Tesla. I love to please them so I have an old wooden ladder in my living room. I it move around from place to place as a cat toy and I interrupt my work every day, about twenty times per cat, when they tap me on my leg.
The tapping means, “Fill my bowl with food please.” It seems their greatest entertainment is to led me to the kitchen, their tails doing that dance of importance, and to watch me put two or three pieces of dried cat food on top of the mountain shaped heap of food in their already filled to the brim bowls. They do a cat nod of a approval and walk away without eating a piece.
“What’s going on here” I’ve been wondering for years then yesterday it hit me. If someone went into my kitchen and placed a few doughnuts on a pile of confections, several times everyday for me, I’d be secure and thrilled out of my mind too!    nancymauerman.com

I’m waiting for John when he calls out from the bedroom, “I can’t wear my shirt!”
“Why?” I say.
“It sounds wrong!”
“What?”
“It’s not user friendly, unless you want your clothes talking to you.” he said.
John had never noticed the crackle and rustle of fine cotton before. My warrior, who’d risked his life several times to save friends, was leery of his shirt!
John had had many opportunities to hear fabric, his mother was a quilter but I’ve also noticed a variant sound appreciation in myself. When I love a piece of music on the radio I stop talking, drawing, even walking to hear every subtle change and blend of melody, counter melody, the moving of especially the bass patterns, the qualities of each instrument mixing with the others and change of key. A pattern is established then broken, which makes me laugh out loud. The theme is created, then changed over and again, differently each time, then stretched so far away from the first, I forget how we started, so when it returns I laugh out loud again.
As the music tells a changing story I can see characters, backgrounds, and dilemmas, but, “No.” my mind says, “The music might also be telling of…” and off I go into a completely new story, then another, and another all within a few seconds, while I’m hearing notes , grouped into blocks, changing. I’m ready for a nap when one song is done.
If the song is on the radio I listen VERY carefully because I may never hear it again but as soon as I buy the music I relax and only hear a small portion, engage myself only partially, because I think I now have a life- time to hear everything. If I listen to all music as well as John listens to his shirt I’d have a richer life. And I wonder if Putin is afraid of his shirt.  nancymauerman.com