I need to translate my blog-name, because it makes no sense unless you know what a "wede" is. It is my grandmother name, awarded to me as a gift when my first grandchild was less than a year old. When she could barely talk, she would look at me and say something that sounded like "weedy". Eventually, we figured out that when I saw her, I always said, "hello, sweetie". She thought that is how we huge people all around tiny Maggie greeted each other.When Big Bird and Bert and Ernie taught her letters and sounds, she wrote that I was w-e-d-e. Of all the names attached to me over the years, Wede is my favorite.
The "B" proves that I am really with it. I have no idea how to send a text message, but I know that letters stand in for words and words stand in for paragraphs. I love the English language; I revere its proper use. Rather than fight what is happening, I join it. So you have also now learned that I am a peacemaker, even in small battles.
Finally, the 90 is self-explanatory, if I can devine how to attach my picture to the blog. I was ninety-years old on October 20 this year of our Lord, 2009. I love being 90.