To fill those slow days of August, I decided to have a garage sale. What a lot of work to rid oneself of once precious but now obsolete items! The ad had to placed early for newspaper readers, photos taken for the Facebook garage sale pages, and signs made for the local intersections leading to our home. The garage had to be cleaned and arranged to hold 8 tables and a tarp hung to cover the tools left. Everyone wants to buy anything they can see in the garage so it is necessary to hide the screwdrivers and even the nuts and bolts. I had to go to the bank for 10s, 5s, 1s and quarters for change in the money box.
The sale items came from leftovers in the girls' closets, ebay failures, unwanted auction boxes and 40 years of otherwise accumulated stuff. Boxes came down the stairs and up from the basement. All to never to return, I said. Well...
I invited two friends to join forces with me in ridding our lives of some clutter-Suzie and Joan. They thought they could find a few items to contribute. Suzie cleaned house, but Joan only had a few things. We arranged jewelry, linens, glassware, books, toys, Christmas and refrigerator magnets on the table and in floor boxes. Since nice weather was predicted, several tables stood on the driveway along with box lots, rider toys and rocking chairs. At first the pricing was discussed and meticulously placed. By the sale eve, stickers were haphazardly placed torn address labels. And everything cost a quarter.
On the sale day, the plan was to meet at 8AM. I started then, but Suzie's and Joan's 8AM starts much later. LOL. Anyway by 9 o'clock opening time, we were in place at the checkout table and the garage sale balloons were flying in the cool morning breeze. Shoppers were waiting and came in steady droves most of the day except for the noon lunchtime lull. Suzie constantly informed customers about her items and rearranged the cleared spaces. I was the main cashier and let my items stand on their own, believing that shoppers can decide on their own if an item is worth the $1 asking price. Most are either collectors or dealers, and they already have an idea of worth and need values. Early on, a customer swore she took four items off the 50cent table that I had placed on the dollar table. Not worth an argument if she needed to be dishonest that badly. I took her $2 and flatly told her to enjoy her bottles. All I can say is "There are many reasons people shop garage sales". Lots of acquaintances and neighbors came thru -some to buy and some just to look the place over. One customer thought he would enter the other side of the garage and had to be stopped by my husband. He just wanted to see what was there. Another asked to use the bathroom-crohns disease attack-and was advised to go to the gas station up the block. Garage sale rule #1: Make bathroom arrangements ahead of time. Even if you are pregnant, or have crohns or MS. Garage sale #2: Stay in the sale area. Just because you spent $1.25 on a stuffed Gund teddy bear does not give you any property ownership. Garage sale rule #3: Your kids can play with the toys, but not the china tea set. A good idea is to give the kids a toy as they arrive. They are then pleased and occupied and allow harried parents to shop for the good stuff.
Some buyers accept the 50cent price on grandma's china plate but others want to bargain. When I stood firm on a price, one gentleman refused the set price and told me I needed to learn to deal. I replied firmly that I had been dealing all morning. He left with a handshake and a "God bless". As I said people attend garage sales for all reasons. Even evangelism. I already know that I am truly blessed by God. It pleases customers to be given a reduced price at checkout. Sometimes they return and spend that saved money.
Garage sale rule #4: You will not make enough money on Saturday to stay open. Unless you are retired and enjoying the social aspect of garage resale with friends.
The real hard work of the sale is at closing. Then the real decision had to be made about nothing returning to the house. And what to do with the leftovers. Those last few customers are lucky. The prices were drastically reduced-often to free. The neighbor who was our best customer was called and given a box of freebies that I hope helped defray the amount of money she spent on some of my most precious vintage items. I feel like I know her better now. Some items were traded among friends. Kids books will go to the Head Start school. Boxes were made up for a local charity-not the local unethical Goodwill-and for a church rummage sale and ebay sales. Which unfortunately have to go back inside. I am left with the problem of what to do with all those empty plastic containers. Yes!!
We celebrate our success in lessening clutter by counting our profits. A mistake in recording is quickly reconciled among friends. Joan is paid out first since she made less money for her few items. Then I counted my earnings in 20s and 10s, leaving Suzie with many 1s and quarters. Oh well, it is the end and now she has to go to the bank. We are joyous in our new found money and meet at La Campesina for margaritas and spicy salsa and fajitas.
Our goodbyes are full of promises to do it again next year-or maybe at Joan's next month. Oh yeah!
Sunday, August 17, 2014
Saturday, July 26, 2014
Empty Days of Summer
It is only July 24th and already the empty days of summer have arrived. The 4th of July cookouts are long over and vacations are coming to an end for many families. The town streets are empty. Garage sales are unattended. The annual family reunions are endured for another year. The anticipation of summer events is over. TV ads already sell school supplies and football practice has begun.
I remember these days as a kid. Weather was hot and humid as July slipped into August. Our annual trip to Grandmothers home at Burning Fork, Kentucky was only a bittersweet memory of days playing with cousins and visiting great aunts and uncles that I now wish I had known better. Aunt Sula lived in a gray weather worn home with a front porch draped with drying beans and blue morning glories. She said we were a pretty bunch of children. Aunt Lula came out to see us in the car. Back then, people were allowed to leave their kids in a hot car. I guess they weren't afraid 7 grouchy, sweaty kids would be kidnapped. Lulas home was in a town and she had a picket fence with a wire gate. Her husbands name was Green. Fascinating to a young girl. On the trips that I remember, Mother and Daddy took us on day trips to the old places dear to them. For Daddy, that was Bull Creek on KY Rt 7 past Gunlock post office. The Ford station wagon dragged bottom to travel the dry creek bed used as a road. All that was left of my Dads home was a black barn in an over grown field and the family house remodeled and occupied by Clarence Shepherd. My dad pointed to memories grown up in scrub and weeds.
Those vacations were also filled with family photos, plenty of balloons to play with (my mom and dad worked at Pioneer Rubber Co.) and trips to Salyersville to the Dollar Store. One summer we went to bible school with Kathy Marshall and made popsicle stick picture frames. Kathy lived farther up the road from Grandmother and Callie with her brother Ricky and parents, Carl and Ruby. Carl knew enough stories to compete with my dad. Ruby's name suited her persona. She wore rich red on lips that were full and usually held a cigarette. Her vibrant nature was evident in her laughter and her actions. They came to visit often, especially at breakfast time. Grandmother put everything on the table for breakfast and there was plenty for everyone. During the day while we played, Dad and Callie sat in the green metal lawn chairs under the giant shade trees passing the time and throwing up a hand to passers by. Occasionally someone stopped and set a spell. They talked of relations and the old days and people in common.
As a teenager, I worked at the Celeryville muck farms and did not have much free time to worry about empty days but they still crept up in different ways. Friends at work had to return to college or the boys had to start football practice. Summer romances and friendships came to an aching end with promises of next year. Town streets were alone as families made the last trips to the lake. We woke up hot and sticky and often stayed that way during the night. At home on the family farm, it was time to can green beans by the bushel and husk endless ears of corn for the freezer. Our garden provided for us then. The wheat was combined off leaving straw to make the square bales that had to be thrown on the wagon for the barn. THAT was always the hottest day of August and most of the straw went down my bra to scratch my dripping wet skin. We had a lot of chores to do even after working all day.
The days passed slowly then suddenly it was time for school and new clothes and a perm. I would have benefitted from that short hair more throughout the summer days. Glad we now have hair bands for the long hair.
Now , having learned to relax a little, Gary and I sit on the front porch listening to Merle and JT and Seven Bridges Road and the cicadas call and then a quick thunder storm. We hear thunder in the distance again as slight showers hit the hosta leaves along the front. We contemplate how to end the constant yapping of the neighbors lonely dog missing his owner. Sweet scent of the stargazers and sweet williams becomes overwhelming as the dampness stirs them up. Lots of drivers see us here and wave. We don't know anyone anymore. Used to be that we knew everyone up and down the road. Not even names on the mailboxes now. New neighbors come without children or memorable names or faces who stay private in their lives.
We are comfortable together and realize that quiet and rest on a summers day is okay.
I remember these days as a kid. Weather was hot and humid as July slipped into August. Our annual trip to Grandmothers home at Burning Fork, Kentucky was only a bittersweet memory of days playing with cousins and visiting great aunts and uncles that I now wish I had known better. Aunt Sula lived in a gray weather worn home with a front porch draped with drying beans and blue morning glories. She said we were a pretty bunch of children. Aunt Lula came out to see us in the car. Back then, people were allowed to leave their kids in a hot car. I guess they weren't afraid 7 grouchy, sweaty kids would be kidnapped. Lulas home was in a town and she had a picket fence with a wire gate. Her husbands name was Green. Fascinating to a young girl. On the trips that I remember, Mother and Daddy took us on day trips to the old places dear to them. For Daddy, that was Bull Creek on KY Rt 7 past Gunlock post office. The Ford station wagon dragged bottom to travel the dry creek bed used as a road. All that was left of my Dads home was a black barn in an over grown field and the family house remodeled and occupied by Clarence Shepherd. My dad pointed to memories grown up in scrub and weeds.
Those vacations were also filled with family photos, plenty of balloons to play with (my mom and dad worked at Pioneer Rubber Co.) and trips to Salyersville to the Dollar Store. One summer we went to bible school with Kathy Marshall and made popsicle stick picture frames. Kathy lived farther up the road from Grandmother and Callie with her brother Ricky and parents, Carl and Ruby. Carl knew enough stories to compete with my dad. Ruby's name suited her persona. She wore rich red on lips that were full and usually held a cigarette. Her vibrant nature was evident in her laughter and her actions. They came to visit often, especially at breakfast time. Grandmother put everything on the table for breakfast and there was plenty for everyone. During the day while we played, Dad and Callie sat in the green metal lawn chairs under the giant shade trees passing the time and throwing up a hand to passers by. Occasionally someone stopped and set a spell. They talked of relations and the old days and people in common.
As a teenager, I worked at the Celeryville muck farms and did not have much free time to worry about empty days but they still crept up in different ways. Friends at work had to return to college or the boys had to start football practice. Summer romances and friendships came to an aching end with promises of next year. Town streets were alone as families made the last trips to the lake. We woke up hot and sticky and often stayed that way during the night. At home on the family farm, it was time to can green beans by the bushel and husk endless ears of corn for the freezer. Our garden provided for us then. The wheat was combined off leaving straw to make the square bales that had to be thrown on the wagon for the barn. THAT was always the hottest day of August and most of the straw went down my bra to scratch my dripping wet skin. We had a lot of chores to do even after working all day.
The days passed slowly then suddenly it was time for school and new clothes and a perm. I would have benefitted from that short hair more throughout the summer days. Glad we now have hair bands for the long hair.
Now , having learned to relax a little, Gary and I sit on the front porch listening to Merle and JT and Seven Bridges Road and the cicadas call and then a quick thunder storm. We hear thunder in the distance again as slight showers hit the hosta leaves along the front. We contemplate how to end the constant yapping of the neighbors lonely dog missing his owner. Sweet scent of the stargazers and sweet williams becomes overwhelming as the dampness stirs them up. Lots of drivers see us here and wave. We don't know anyone anymore. Used to be that we knew everyone up and down the road. Not even names on the mailboxes now. New neighbors come without children or memorable names or faces who stay private in their lives.
We are comfortable together and realize that quiet and rest on a summers day is okay.
Sunday, July 6, 2014
Friendship Journeys
As we age, our old friends are dearer and acquaintances become closer. When we travel, strangers respond to our open smiles and share their lives for an hour at dinner on a riverboat. They tell their stories from wheel chairs in airports and waiting in doctors offices. Now we can surmise their life stories from facebook and through other social media.
Recently at a sale, I ran into two girls/ladies/women that I knew from school. The two Cindys. And they are aging well. They were a year behind me in high school. We did not run in the same circles, and my friends and I considered them rivals of a sort for the attention of the available males in town. Their group - Cindy, Cindy, Nora, Carolyn, Jan and Becky-cruised the "ave" in a Cindys station wagon. As we passed on Myrtle Avenue, they were always having a good time. We were jealous of their good time and that they belonged together to something. Now I know that "something" just turned out to be a long lasting friendship of girls.
Over my years at Pepperidge Farm, I went to Cindy with my insurance problems. She was open and helpful to me, and I responded to her friendship. Then we worked a short time together in quality control, and we became better acquainted. I liked her and wondered at that jealousy of my younger years. I knew Carolyn from grade school at Steuben where we were buddies together with Ann and Kathy. Our daughters, Amy and Jennifer, were in school together and even in each others weddings . We crossed paths often and shared chatter about families. I never did get to know Nora. Jan worked at the hospital in registration where she occasionally had to help me. I think I offered friendly conversation, but she never accepted. That's okay. The same with Becky who also worked at Pepperidge. They did offer me respect though in the work positions we shared.
The two Cindys spoke their enjoyment of the recent get together of the group. They are still mourning the recent loss of Jan to cancer. I could feel their sorrow. It made me think of what a blessing it is to be able to share our lives with others and to empathize with the ups and downs of their life's journey. Jan will always be with them-not forgotten.
The second Cindy (now Cynthia) greeted me that day with a smile and received one of my never ending hugs. I cant help my hugging. Somehow, I sense that is what people need from me at certain times. Cindy told me she enjoyed seeing my pictures of children and grandchildren on facebook. I also follow hers and am able to show concern and attention to her family's trials and triumphs. Her joy in her grandchildren is evident. And concern for her aging parents is a path I know, and I feel in my heart what she faces. Cynthia also worked at Pioneer Rubber/ Sherwood/ Mapa when I did. She stayed on in a management position when Mapa made a move to Tennessee and still lives there. When my Mother passed, she was able to help me with a life insurance question. At that time, her kindness to me meant a lot. Even now, it makes me tear up. Cynthia also mentioned that she enjoyed reading my stories on my blog. Little did she know that she would be a character in one. And Cindy mentioned quickly my art and talent which is a recognition I appreciate. My goal here is to bring at least one smile.
Friendships can begin and end and rest awhile. Some are lifelong with wet and dry spells. They can be antagonistic and forgiving. I once did not speak to my best friend for over a year because of her use of the word hillbilly which I find very offensive. After a time, I was able to let it go, and she welcomed me back as if nothing happened. A lot did happen to me during that time and someday I will share with her. A high school friend moved away for nearly 20 years, but has returned and our relationship is better because of separation and experience.
People often say "I wish I knew then what I know now" and life would be different. Who can say different is better? We are led by God who sees every move and thought we make. And lets us learn and develop into loving beings to shine His light out to others in friendship.
Recently at a sale, I ran into two girls/ladies/women that I knew from school. The two Cindys. And they are aging well. They were a year behind me in high school. We did not run in the same circles, and my friends and I considered them rivals of a sort for the attention of the available males in town. Their group - Cindy, Cindy, Nora, Carolyn, Jan and Becky-cruised the "ave" in a Cindys station wagon. As we passed on Myrtle Avenue, they were always having a good time. We were jealous of their good time and that they belonged together to something. Now I know that "something" just turned out to be a long lasting friendship of girls.
Over my years at Pepperidge Farm, I went to Cindy with my insurance problems. She was open and helpful to me, and I responded to her friendship. Then we worked a short time together in quality control, and we became better acquainted. I liked her and wondered at that jealousy of my younger years. I knew Carolyn from grade school at Steuben where we were buddies together with Ann and Kathy. Our daughters, Amy and Jennifer, were in school together and even in each others weddings . We crossed paths often and shared chatter about families. I never did get to know Nora. Jan worked at the hospital in registration where she occasionally had to help me. I think I offered friendly conversation, but she never accepted. That's okay. The same with Becky who also worked at Pepperidge. They did offer me respect though in the work positions we shared.
The two Cindys spoke their enjoyment of the recent get together of the group. They are still mourning the recent loss of Jan to cancer. I could feel their sorrow. It made me think of what a blessing it is to be able to share our lives with others and to empathize with the ups and downs of their life's journey. Jan will always be with them-not forgotten.
The second Cindy (now Cynthia) greeted me that day with a smile and received one of my never ending hugs. I cant help my hugging. Somehow, I sense that is what people need from me at certain times. Cindy told me she enjoyed seeing my pictures of children and grandchildren on facebook. I also follow hers and am able to show concern and attention to her family's trials and triumphs. Her joy in her grandchildren is evident. And concern for her aging parents is a path I know, and I feel in my heart what she faces. Cynthia also worked at Pioneer Rubber/ Sherwood/ Mapa when I did. She stayed on in a management position when Mapa made a move to Tennessee and still lives there. When my Mother passed, she was able to help me with a life insurance question. At that time, her kindness to me meant a lot. Even now, it makes me tear up. Cynthia also mentioned that she enjoyed reading my stories on my blog. Little did she know that she would be a character in one. And Cindy mentioned quickly my art and talent which is a recognition I appreciate. My goal here is to bring at least one smile.
Friendships can begin and end and rest awhile. Some are lifelong with wet and dry spells. They can be antagonistic and forgiving. I once did not speak to my best friend for over a year because of her use of the word hillbilly which I find very offensive. After a time, I was able to let it go, and she welcomed me back as if nothing happened. A lot did happen to me during that time and someday I will share with her. A high school friend moved away for nearly 20 years, but has returned and our relationship is better because of separation and experience.
People often say "I wish I knew then what I know now" and life would be different. Who can say different is better? We are led by God who sees every move and thought we make. And lets us learn and develop into loving beings to shine His light out to others in friendship.
Monday, May 26, 2014
At the cemetery 2014
Yesterday I went to the local cemetery-Maple Grove-in New Haven with a friend to set out hostas at the grave site of her parents. Her mom died over 4 years ago and she has not been to the cemetery during that time. Not everybody has that ideal relationship with their parents that is advertised on Facebook. They leave us without saying "I'm sorry for the harm I caused you"-bitter and stubborn to the end. Even as adult children those wrongs can still shape our lives. It is difficult to forgive and let go. Maybe this is a step forward for her.
Anyway the plants looked nice, and while we worked, we spent time together talking of her parents and her children and how they deserved their own separate feelings and memories of their grandparents. Some things are better kept hidden.
I took a great photo of her in her work clothes and gloves and flushed face from the exertion of digging.
We drove slowly on down the lane to my mom and dads grave mentioning names of those we knew as we passed other stones. Some are early settlers of New Haven area and many names I know as distant relatives that I recall my parents speaking of. One section has names of Celeryville families; another has a black marble bench at one grave site. Most are decorated with bright silk flowers since Memorial Day is this weekend. At my parents grave, we pull the weeds around the thriving daylilies I recently set out inside the chintzy white plastic fence that prevents the caretakers from mowing them down or spraying with weed killer. I think of how Mother would like the attention to her grave and the memories I recall of her hours in the flowers. And the lilies even came from her farm on Townline 12-the bronze ones.
Memorial Day used to be known as Decoration Day when I was a child. Somewhere along the way -1967- it was officially changed and then in 1971 it became a Monday holiday. It even used to signal the end of the school year and the beginning of summer vacation. But no longer.
My Decoration Day memory was a trip with my Aunt Lucy and my Grandmother Maudie along the mountain path to the steep hillside graveyard where numerous mystery relatives were buried. New plastic roses replaced those faded from a years exposure. They spoke in hushed tones about the familes buried there and even shed tears for my baby sister and Maudies lost child Oliver.
As we drove around Maple Grove, we ended in the back corner where a small area segregates the lost babies and children from the main cemetery. How sad. Small graves with small stones or only name markers stuck away alone. Some were well cared for and others not. I went along each and pulled the weeds as Suzie read the names. They are remembered another year.
The day does establish a specific day to remember the dead. At least it reminds the living to care for the remains of their ancestors and to even speak their names once again.
Anyway the plants looked nice, and while we worked, we spent time together talking of her parents and her children and how they deserved their own separate feelings and memories of their grandparents. Some things are better kept hidden.
I took a great photo of her in her work clothes and gloves and flushed face from the exertion of digging.
We drove slowly on down the lane to my mom and dads grave mentioning names of those we knew as we passed other stones. Some are early settlers of New Haven area and many names I know as distant relatives that I recall my parents speaking of. One section has names of Celeryville families; another has a black marble bench at one grave site. Most are decorated with bright silk flowers since Memorial Day is this weekend. At my parents grave, we pull the weeds around the thriving daylilies I recently set out inside the chintzy white plastic fence that prevents the caretakers from mowing them down or spraying with weed killer. I think of how Mother would like the attention to her grave and the memories I recall of her hours in the flowers. And the lilies even came from her farm on Townline 12-the bronze ones.
Memorial Day used to be known as Decoration Day when I was a child. Somewhere along the way -1967- it was officially changed and then in 1971 it became a Monday holiday. It even used to signal the end of the school year and the beginning of summer vacation. But no longer.
My Decoration Day memory was a trip with my Aunt Lucy and my Grandmother Maudie along the mountain path to the steep hillside graveyard where numerous mystery relatives were buried. New plastic roses replaced those faded from a years exposure. They spoke in hushed tones about the familes buried there and even shed tears for my baby sister and Maudies lost child Oliver.
As we drove around Maple Grove, we ended in the back corner where a small area segregates the lost babies and children from the main cemetery. How sad. Small graves with small stones or only name markers stuck away alone. Some were well cared for and others not. I went along each and pulled the weeds as Suzie read the names. They are remembered another year.
The day does establish a specific day to remember the dead. At least it reminds the living to care for the remains of their ancestors and to even speak their names once again.
Saturday, May 10, 2014
What happened to family photos?
These days, we can take photos at a moments notice. I used to love my digital camera for the ease of use and the instant pictures. No film to buy or develop. Just delete any unwanted photos.
The world is full of computers, cds and phones with photos of important moments. Few people print the pictures that can be passed at family dinners and reunions. There are too many options-print at home, email to the club store, take the card to the drug store, edit for perfection. We used to send the complete roll of film to the processor and a week later we received every shot-good or bad.
I remember on every trip to grandmothers getting the photo box out. She told me about ancestors who were in the old pictures and shared those of new great grandchildren. My daughters take pictures of my grandchildren's accomplishments that I will never see. They are saved somewhere in space.
Now, I am the photo printer and keeper. Online services have printed books for me. I have a book for each of the grandchildren, my first trip to Italy, my ancestors, places important in my life and other trips. Occasionally I print photos and send them to relatives. Pictures need to be shared. At the end, a picture of a loved one is what we cherish and keeps that long gone ancestor alive in memory.
The world is full of computers, cds and phones with photos of important moments. Few people print the pictures that can be passed at family dinners and reunions. There are too many options-print at home, email to the club store, take the card to the drug store, edit for perfection. We used to send the complete roll of film to the processor and a week later we received every shot-good or bad.
I remember on every trip to grandmothers getting the photo box out. She told me about ancestors who were in the old pictures and shared those of new great grandchildren. My daughters take pictures of my grandchildren's accomplishments that I will never see. They are saved somewhere in space.
Now, I am the photo printer and keeper. Online services have printed books for me. I have a book for each of the grandchildren, my first trip to Italy, my ancestors, places important in my life and other trips. Occasionally I print photos and send them to relatives. Pictures need to be shared. At the end, a picture of a loved one is what we cherish and keeps that long gone ancestor alive in memory.
Mothers Day 2014
Tomorrow is the official Mothers Day. But we all know that is everyday if you have children. Caring moms celebrate little moments at random. Chubby hands that reach for you in sleep, a one tooth smile, mama, the phone call that starts "Mom", and the list of special times goes on.
Mothers have special skills that are characteristic to women only. They can listen to numerous levels of conversations and demands at once. While tying shoes or changing diapers. Then they have the patience to answer each request. Sometimes it is in a calm tone and sometimes not. Moms don't have to be angels. Their hormones wont let them.
Mothers know all the answers. Just ask a question and they will tell you everything about the subject. Examples are used and follow up happens. When a child asks, "how do you make people?", you can explain sexual reproduction or show them how to draw a person which is what they really wanted to begin with. They want you to be well informed for life.
Mothers are several steps ahead of the rest of the family. For trips, they pack extra clothes (even a shirt for dad), always have a band aid or snack in their purse, and sense when their child doesn't feel well. Moms know how to get to the guilty party in a fight. They can distract whiny or unhappy children by changing the direction of interest or subject.
Mothers are entertainers, nurses, doctors, chauffeurs, peacekeepers, encyclopedias and the endless source of life supplies. All this on top of being wives, employees, gardeners, financial planners, cooks, vacation planners, travel navigators, and family calendars. My dream vacation is having it all planned for me-even someone packing my bags.
A mother shares her belief in God and teaches a child to pray when afraid, desperate, lonely, and thankful for goodness and beauty. And to rejoice and trust in His love.
As children age, they need to pull away from Mom to gain independence and learn how to live on their own. This can be a painful, antagonistic time and can go on for years. It is hard for Moms to let go and realize that they are needed in different ways. You no longer have all the answers. You're not even asked. A mother needs to make a new place for herself. Be an advisor. Be comfort. Be a babysitter. Do not be a bank. Do not tell them how to raise their children. They still remember the mistakes you made on them. Admire and celebrate and comfort your children's success and failure. Show them by your example that life will go on. Be available when they need you. Children always come home again.
When your children have left the nest, that is a good time to go back and celebrate life with your own aging Mother. NOW that you have made the journey yourself, you can understand her struggle to raise all those children.
Sunday, April 27, 2014
Mother and her flowers
Written on a cold winter day:
Today, January 3rd, in the mail, I received my first seed catalog. Leafing through the pages, I was reminded of my mother’s love affair with her flowers. The family always had a large vegetable garden to feed nine people, but Mother’s true pleasure came from the flowers she nurtured. From the early sixties, at Ray, Ohio, I remember the begonias, coleus, geraniums and sultanas (now called impatiens) that she planted on either side of the front steps. They grew into profuse bushes in the early morning shade and wilted in the intense afternoon sun. She watered them using the metal bucket and dipper faithfully every evening, despite the other chores that a family of nine created. Visitors always commented on them and few left without a start of the plants. At the end of the season in the fall, she potted many of the little starts and took them inside the house. They grew slowly in the cool, sunless winter days. But when spring came, they quickly sprouted new leaves and were soon ready to be transplanted in the beds, starting the cycle for her all over again.
Houseplants, mainly philodendron, were always plentiful in her home. One year at Ray, the plant vined so much that she let it grow along nails she placed all over one living room wall. One of our Saturday chores was washing and polishing the many leaves. When she moved from the farm to the condo, she took a philodendron in a five gallon pot with her. She had it staked with a wooden slat and tied with twine. That was one thing about her gardening- she used whatever was available for a stake regardless of the appearance to the plant. At the condo, the plant continued to climb and wind around the stake, and she worried daily what she should do with it. It needed transplanted, but into what and how would she do it. I finally convinced her that she could just trim it back and let it start over. Mother cut most of the plant away, but it was never the same. I think she let it decline as she was doing herself. She could no longer care to water or feed the plant. When her furniture and belongings were divided, Carol took the philodendron and added it to her plethora of houseplants.
Mother spent most of her life on a small farm near Willard, Ohio. When we moved there in the early 1960s, the place was truly depressing. Junk everywhere. The house needed lots of work. My parents set to work right away cleaning the place up. Translated, that meant lots of work for us kids. There was lots of space between the house and the barn for a vegetable garden. While we hoed the beans on hot afternoons, it seemed like acres. Mother kept room for her flowers, though. Along the west edge near the apple tree, she planted orange poppies that bloomed every spring. One summer, she planted several rows of dahlias along the garden path that led to the barn. The showiest ones were the large dinner plate dahlias. They were wine colored (her word), yellow, and velvety red. Mother knew just how to arrange the plants for the best effect. When visitors pulled around the curve of the driveway, they could not help but see their beauty. The dahlias gave her great pleasure as well as frustration. The bulbs had to be dug every fall, tagged and stored in the basement after the first frost. The tagging was the hardest part. She did not have plastic tags we can get now at any nursery, but instead used an old white sheet torn into strips. Each strip had the color and size written on it with magic marker then was wrapped around its group of bulbs. Needless to say, sometimes in the spring, she had to deal with surprises since the cool dampness of the dirt basement was not the best environment for maintaining legible markings on the cloth. She often had to guess at color and size which led to a great variation in the color arrangement in the garden. When she began to set the bulbs out in the spring, she always saved some to pass along to friends and relatives. If you admired one of her dahlias, she had the bulbs to send home with you.
As the farm took shape, Mother was able to focus her attention to placing beds of plants and shrubs around the house. I remember the many flower and seed catalogs that came in January and how she spent hours planning her order. I loved her excitement. Her roses were from Jackson & Perkins. Unless she went to the greenhouse and could not resist a certain color. Other plants and seeds came from Burpees. Unless she went to the local greenhouse and saw a certain plant she couldn’t resist. As the years passed, a variety of perennials were available at greenhouses like Corso’s.
In the spring, she bought primroses and pansies. For the summer, she first bought begonias, impatiens and marigolds. Columbines, lupines, sweet william, hollyhocks, lilies and coneflowers and black eyed susans began to fill in a lot of spaces. The advantage to her was that the perennials came up every year and reproduced profusely. She would just thin out the new plants in the spring and start a new bed or find an empty spot. I don’t think she ever thinned them and threw them away. Another way Mother got plants was to start them from seeds that she gathered each fall. The seeds were dried and put in some sort of container-tins or in little white rags tied in bunches. Many zinnias and marigolds got their start in the big old washtub. Mother loved mums in the fall but became aggravated that they soon lost their exotic colors to the original white or yellow. In the spring, she loved all the colors of the irises, but hated dividing the bulbs and pulling the nasty grass from between the rows.
One year she bought a small greenhouse. Together we bought packets of seeds and spent spring evenings filling the little pots with soil and pressed the seeds into the soil. We had flat after flat of all the varieties of our dreams. My brother Ralph built shelves to hold the flats of pots. He also rigged a heater for cool nights. We waited anxiously for the seedlings to arrive. They finally did -all at once. So many plants! Tall and spindly as if reaching for the sun. We had to thin and rotate and water. As they grew, we realized we only needed a small amount of them for ourselves. I think we gave plants to everyone we knew. We used the greenhouse for several years. I’m not sure why we stopped. I think we had enough. I know that I never had a place for all those plants and realized I did it to help her. And she did it to help me.
At any time of the day, Mother could be found doing some kind of work in her flowers. For the hot sun she conceded to wearing a straw hat and a long sleeve shirt to ”keep her freckles away”. She did not wear gloves. If you visited her, she had to wash up for you. Any visit included a tour of her flower gardens. She had to show off a new variety or just any thing that was in bloom always offering a start of this or that She forever pushed those begonias at me, but I still don’t like them even if they are red and double. While she showed me around the other flowers, she continued to work and plan -pulling a weed here and there or wondering where to transplant overcrowded plants or some worry about a plant that wasn’t thriving. She is the only person I know that demanded her money back if a rose or peony or lily did not produce. Not only at a greenhouse but thru letters to J&P and Burpee’s. And she got satisfaction.
Over the years, Mother’s flowers grew far and wide. Not only into all the beds that she placed here and there in the yard and garden, and around the house and garage, but in my gardens and every garden of friends and relatives.
As I work in my own flower beds, I think of her. The wind waves the pink cosmos and I remember that she called them standing cyphers. When I get a whiff of the sweet william near the front door, I remember that she gave it to me. As I watch the humming birds on the coneflowers, I am reminded of her full, wild gardens at the farm.
Each spring at the greenhouse, I still buy something just for her.
Transplants
Transplants
Sweet williams
Sweet memory
Of you
Growing near the front door.
Sweet scent
Chokes my breath
As I move back
To you and the days
We spent digging
Flowers for me
From your gardens.
Blooms that you spread
Through my years
To have you
With me
Each season.
Now I dig
For my daughters
And tell them
Of you.
Transplanting the sweetness
You still sow.
Friday, March 28, 2014
Happy Lights
It works!
This winter, I purchased a "happy light" as Ela and Aleks call it. This is a simulated sunlight lamp for people who suffer from Seasonal Affective Disorder. In other words, depression due to constant gray days. I turn it on and after about 1/2 hour, I feel my spirits lift. Sometimes, I leave it on all day.
Another happy thought to write about- print and grammar mistakes on social networks by humans and auto correct.
School Friends
School Friends
3/27/14
Yesterday I traveled to Lodi Ohio with Chris to meet Arlene for lunch. Both are high school friends that I have been in contact with occasionally since graduation. Our friendship was centered over our freshman and sophomore years.
After 6th grade at Steuben school, all the outlying students went to junior high at the high school on split sessions until the new junior high was completed. We were outsiders to town kids already familiar with each other and knew the established social hierarchy. My sixth grade friends were spread out over different class groups I now realized were arranged due to scholastic achievement. My best friend soon found a new town friend and was able to acclimate to the new surroundings. I think I never did. I don't remember any friends from 7th or 8th grade. My life was secret and I kept to myself for survival. Those memories are cold and gray and alone among the class mates who had money and privilege and made fun of my speech and my clothes and lack of social knowledge. The thing that saved me then was that I was smarter than most of them. And I had a family to go home to for awhile.
As a freshman, I remember that Arlene and I met in Mrs. Rineharts Algebra class and ate lunch together. After eating, we cruised the halls, flirting with boys we passed and those we could see through classroom door windows. In the winter, I did go to a few basketball games with her and did stay overnite once at her home on Ash St. My sisters could drive and thus I was able go to some school events. My parents both worked second shift at Pioneer Rubber and with one car, we were severely limited in after school and other social activities. Arlene never stayed the night with me. I knew my home was different from hers and was afraid of being judged again and maybe losing her friendship.
Anyway, the school year ended and we didn't see anyone from school over the summer. I worked at Holthouse Bros farm in Celeryville during the break. The season before my freshman year was my first job. My first checks were $15 per 40 hour week and Saturday mornings. That summer, the federal minimum increased and I was raised to $45. The ready acceptance of Carol and Brendas little sister by the experienced workers, I suppose gave me some pseudo confidence for the next years in school. The money also raised my socioeconomic level. My clothes matched that of other girls.
Somewhere during my sophomore year, I met Chris through Arlene, I guess. We had a study hall together and did go to some ball games together. Once, I went to her house and we listened to music-the Stone Ponies singing Different Drum. Arlene had moved past us. She had a steady boyfriend. I saw her in classes and lunch but her focus was on the boy.
During junior and senior year, Arlene and Chris began attending the Vocational School in Shelby to study cosmetology. Several of those first mornings of school, I tried to talk with them, but they had already moved on. And I adjusted again with Carol and Suzan and Ruth.
Years later I ran into Arlene after she married a Smith guy and attended our New Haven church. And Chris and I reconnected when she worked at a local flower shop. They were simple chats but a reconnection still that remained and for me came to fruition at yesterdays meeting. Years of life have come and gone for me, but the occasional thought of how they must have really liked something about me have helped sustain a life. Friendship increases in value with time. Truth. I am glad that Arlene and Chris and I can laugh together in this age.
3/27/14
Yesterday I traveled to Lodi Ohio with Chris to meet Arlene for lunch. Both are high school friends that I have been in contact with occasionally since graduation. Our friendship was centered over our freshman and sophomore years.
After 6th grade at Steuben school, all the outlying students went to junior high at the high school on split sessions until the new junior high was completed. We were outsiders to town kids already familiar with each other and knew the established social hierarchy. My sixth grade friends were spread out over different class groups I now realized were arranged due to scholastic achievement. My best friend soon found a new town friend and was able to acclimate to the new surroundings. I think I never did. I don't remember any friends from 7th or 8th grade. My life was secret and I kept to myself for survival. Those memories are cold and gray and alone among the class mates who had money and privilege and made fun of my speech and my clothes and lack of social knowledge. The thing that saved me then was that I was smarter than most of them. And I had a family to go home to for awhile.
As a freshman, I remember that Arlene and I met in Mrs. Rineharts Algebra class and ate lunch together. After eating, we cruised the halls, flirting with boys we passed and those we could see through classroom door windows. In the winter, I did go to a few basketball games with her and did stay overnite once at her home on Ash St. My sisters could drive and thus I was able go to some school events. My parents both worked second shift at Pioneer Rubber and with one car, we were severely limited in after school and other social activities. Arlene never stayed the night with me. I knew my home was different from hers and was afraid of being judged again and maybe losing her friendship.
Anyway, the school year ended and we didn't see anyone from school over the summer. I worked at Holthouse Bros farm in Celeryville during the break. The season before my freshman year was my first job. My first checks were $15 per 40 hour week and Saturday mornings. That summer, the federal minimum increased and I was raised to $45. The ready acceptance of Carol and Brendas little sister by the experienced workers, I suppose gave me some pseudo confidence for the next years in school. The money also raised my socioeconomic level. My clothes matched that of other girls.
Somewhere during my sophomore year, I met Chris through Arlene, I guess. We had a study hall together and did go to some ball games together. Once, I went to her house and we listened to music-the Stone Ponies singing Different Drum. Arlene had moved past us. She had a steady boyfriend. I saw her in classes and lunch but her focus was on the boy.
During junior and senior year, Arlene and Chris began attending the Vocational School in Shelby to study cosmetology. Several of those first mornings of school, I tried to talk with them, but they had already moved on. And I adjusted again with Carol and Suzan and Ruth.
Years later I ran into Arlene after she married a Smith guy and attended our New Haven church. And Chris and I reconnected when she worked at a local flower shop. They were simple chats but a reconnection still that remained and for me came to fruition at yesterdays meeting. Years of life have come and gone for me, but the occasional thought of how they must have really liked something about me have helped sustain a life. Friendship increases in value with time. Truth. I am glad that Arlene and Chris and I can laugh together in this age.
Wednesday, March 19, 2014
Random Thoughts for 3/19/14
I saw a car in Bowling Green, Ohio with license plate ZINNIA. Did not see the driver, but I imagined she was several years younger than me, full of busy confidence and combed her long hair with her fingers. She was on her way to the greenhouse because she needed more plants for the flower beds. Probably for the perennials that were on sale. Coneflowers, daylilies, bee balm, daisies...
Lack of membership finally closed the doors of St Sebastian's after a hundred years of spirit. Latin mass left in the 1970s. The townships children went away to college and never came back. The parents aged and went to the nursing home and then final settlement in the cemetery near the church. Most of the surrounding land was bought by corporation farmers who plow to the road. The old homes are slowly fading and losing their battle against weeds and shrubs and the wild. That hope and hard work of the settlers is finished. In the distance I can see the gravestones standing alone against the stark white of the church. Lonely and left, they will soon lean and wear away to the earth.
My drawings-
My MS life-several years ago in the winter, I had trouble with my thought processes and speech and communication. I also had headaches and became very depressed. I was convinced that I had a tumor, but my neurologist assured me that all this was part of my illness. Anyway, about that time, I started drawing. At first it was doodles, then abstract doodles that became more complex and intense. I am still compelled to draw everyday. Some drawings get painted or pen and inked. Bright colors. Imagined angles and shapes. I don't know where it comes from (I really know WHO it comes from) but it is a comfort to my brain. This winter, on our flight home from Florida, I learned another reason why. As the flight readied for departure, I was already drawing to pass time. The very helpful attendant, Karen, asked if the drawing was for her and I said "if you like". I soon finished the picture in black inks, and as we neared landing, I passed it to the attendant with name tag Karen, but she was the wrong one. Seems there was 2 Karen flight attendants. The other one appeared and I gave it to her. She thanked me with tears in her eyes and shared that she had lost a dear friend that very day and my drawing was a sweet gift. I still think of her as I draw daily and wonder if she is finding comfort for her loss. And say a prayer for her. God works in wondrous ways.
Karen worked on the Ft Lauderdale to Atlanta Southwest flight on February 26. Please be kind to her and other Karens.
Lack of membership finally closed the doors of St Sebastian's after a hundred years of spirit. Latin mass left in the 1970s. The townships children went away to college and never came back. The parents aged and went to the nursing home and then final settlement in the cemetery near the church. Most of the surrounding land was bought by corporation farmers who plow to the road. The old homes are slowly fading and losing their battle against weeds and shrubs and the wild. That hope and hard work of the settlers is finished. In the distance I can see the gravestones standing alone against the stark white of the church. Lonely and left, they will soon lean and wear away to the earth.
My drawings-
My MS life-several years ago in the winter, I had trouble with my thought processes and speech and communication. I also had headaches and became very depressed. I was convinced that I had a tumor, but my neurologist assured me that all this was part of my illness. Anyway, about that time, I started drawing. At first it was doodles, then abstract doodles that became more complex and intense. I am still compelled to draw everyday. Some drawings get painted or pen and inked. Bright colors. Imagined angles and shapes. I don't know where it comes from (I really know WHO it comes from) but it is a comfort to my brain. This winter, on our flight home from Florida, I learned another reason why. As the flight readied for departure, I was already drawing to pass time. The very helpful attendant, Karen, asked if the drawing was for her and I said "if you like". I soon finished the picture in black inks, and as we neared landing, I passed it to the attendant with name tag Karen, but she was the wrong one. Seems there was 2 Karen flight attendants. The other one appeared and I gave it to her. She thanked me with tears in her eyes and shared that she had lost a dear friend that very day and my drawing was a sweet gift. I still think of her as I draw daily and wonder if she is finding comfort for her loss. And say a prayer for her. God works in wondrous ways.
Karen worked on the Ft Lauderdale to Atlanta Southwest flight on February 26. Please be kind to her and other Karens.
Friday, January 17, 2014
Grandchildren
| My grandson (in the following article) with Apraxia makes my MS and RA problems seem minor. He has come so far in 3 years with therapy and the support of his parents, Jen and Chris and sister Ela-his protector. He is a superhero. But then all my grandchildren are that to me. Each has their own individual place. Ela is the 'boss' and is smart intellectually and emotionally beyond her 8 years. She started "this is the rule" in our family at the age of two. And she is a beauty full of questions and Answers. She likes order. Her current Girl Scout cookie sales are near the group goals. Aleks is artistic and creative. He has his own imaginary business, ATO, and has recently hired me as a worker and his mom is a guard. When he says "unbreakable", I marvel that he has learned to say so many understandable syllables. The word just rolled off his tongue. Ricky is growing tall and loves to jump towards the ceiling to show his growth. He jumps around the furniture with the agility and grace of a jaguar or whichever animal he imitates at the moment. I think he will be an athlete like his dad. He has a wry sense of humor and loves to play tricks. Riley has an open humor and an " in the moment" temper. Don't cross him. Gary calls him tugboat-for his strength and determination. He also likes to draw and understands my abstract pictures as does Aleks. Ela likes my drawings of "real stuff". Riley is now 2 1/5 and has known numbers for a year. He a fast learner. Vera Mazie is the 8 month old baby of the family. She is my last hope for a redhead and it doesn't look good. She has those same dark eyes as Jen and Ela and Tori. Tried to say pretty yesterday. She is a happy baby. I am thankful to have these children to love and care for. Zumbathon aids kids with speech disorder |  |  |  |
| Written by KAREN NADLER COTA Sentinel Lifestyles Editor | ||
| Friday, 17 January 2014 10:14 | ||
So is Aleks Ostrowski, a member of the kindergarten class at St. Aloysius School. Like the other children in their classrooms, Aleks and Eli are learning to read simple words, add simple sums and "work and play well with others." But 6-year-old Eli and Aleks have a special challenge to overcome. Each has a condition called Apraxia of Speech, described by medical professionals as a very challenging and complicated, but little-known, neurological speech disorder. "The kids know what they want to say, but they can't make the mouth form the words," explained Eli's mom, Beth McIntosh, current president of an organization called Northwest Ohio Apraxia Support. "I was one of the parents that started the organization two years ago." The group is now inviting the public to Shake It for a good cause at the Northwest Ohio Apraxia Support Zumbathon, slated for Jan. 31 from 6:30-9:30 p.m. at Perry Field House on the campus of Bowling Green State University. The event will feature multiple Zumba® sessions taught by instructors from all over northwest Ohio. Light refreshments will be served. Participants may arrive any time during the event and dance as little or as much as they'd like. Registration is $15 for the dance only or $25 for dance and T-shirt. All proceeds will benefit NWO Apraxia Support and be utilized to help those impacted by Childhood Apraxia of Speech (CAS) in northwest Ohio. Because CAS makes it difficult or impossible for children to accurately produce sounds, syllables or words despite having a good understanding of language, "it requires frequent and intensive therapy," much of which is not covered by insurance. "Therapy is key," said McIntosh, "because it's a motor planning disorder." Many, if not most, of the children with apraxia also have co-occurring disorders, such as cerebral palsy, Down Syndrome, autism, or anxiety disorder. "It looks very different in different children," McIntosh explained. In Eli's case, his CAS episodes are tied to epilepsy-related seizures. NWO Apraxia Support is a regional non-profit, charitable organization which supports the area families impacted by CAS, and works to raise public awareness. The organization also provides grants to fund supplemental therapies, treatments, activities, or equipment to enhance the lives of individual children with the condition. "I'm so excited that in the past year we've helped 65 therapists, teachers and individual children to get services or equipment not covered by insurance." Grant money has gone to each of the elementary buildings in Bowling Green, Toth Elementary in Perrysburg, the Dusty Boots program in Grand Rapids, Wood County Hospital Rehabilitation, the Wood County Public Library Foundation, Elmwood special education classes, and the Perrysburg-ESC Preschool, among others. Individual children in Bowling Green, Tontogany and Perrysburg have also been helped. Those interested in taking part in the Jan. 31 Zumbathon may register at http://www.firstgiving.com/NWOAS/nwo-apraxia-support-zumbathon or download a paper form at http://www.nwoapraxiasupport.org/ and mail to P.O. Box 800, Bowling Green, Ohio 43402. Contact McIntosh directly at NWOApraxia@gmail.com or by calling 419-494-9352. |
My MS life
In 2003, I was officially diagnosed with MS as seen thru an MRI which was doctor ordered after I expressed concern to him about my foot drag and the other system events. I did not know the drag was a symptom until my friend Barb at work shared that her sister in law experienced it with her MS. In 1996, I had a case of optic neuritis at which time a neuro-opthamologist in Columbus told me I should have another MRI in several years to check for brain lesion activity. Over those years, other symptoms occurred that my family doctor did not connect to any disease. I had daily visual/aural migraines, trigeminal face pain, tingling in my arm and leg when I bent my head forward and memory/emotional issues. Searching for relief, I had extensive dental work done, went for carpal tunnel testing (negative) and began the use of Prozac for the pain.
After the MRI, I picked up the test results and drove to Norwalk for my first appointment with Dr. Hill, now my neurologist. Those words "lesions consistent with Multiple Sclerosis" are etched in my thoughts. What did I feel? Numb-this was not happening to me. Fear-my oldest brother Larry was bedridden with MS. Relief-finally a diagnosis. Dr. Hill told me I had the relapsing remitting type versus the progressive type like Larry. RRMS was less serious-ha! I might go years with out other related problems. I started a daily injection of Copaxone for 10 years until the pill Aubagio was released in 2013. The Copaxone joined my regimen of drugs I was already using for Rheumatoid Arthritis, another autoimmune disease I experienced for 14 previous years. Since then , I have learned that many MS people have more than one AI disease. I guess because we are strong enough to handle a lot of pain and change. LOL And have good enough insurance to pay for medicine that costs 10s of thousands of dollars.
Lots of people and "experts " tell me that life will go on and that it can be fruitful. True. But the fact is that I have MS and RA and my life has changed. Every thought and movement reminds me. Not much is automatic. For instance, lots of planning goes into simple hygiene - from avoiding falls in the tub to remembering to look in the mirror to make sure I am properly dressed and groomed. Have you ever forgot to comb your hair, ladies? Going out in public requires watching the sidewalk for hazards since I drag my feet, locating bathrooms and consciously looking at my surroundings since my vision is focused down and my mind is set on my destination. I am easily confused and forget details. Conversation is difficult. If I am interrupted, the thought is gone. When I speak with my daughters and others on the phone, in my head I recount happenings as a list. Fatigue is perhaps the worst part of AI disease. So much energy is expended to accomplish movement and thought that little is left for chores and leisure. 10 minutes is my limit on gardening in the sun. Most of my beautiful flowers are gone. Housekeeping is last on the list (always was) and is done haphazardly when we expect company. The future of my physical (and mental) condition is uncertain so I draw and paint and collect and take opportunities for travel and family. Oh I wrote this the other day and forgot to post. LOL
After the MRI, I picked up the test results and drove to Norwalk for my first appointment with Dr. Hill, now my neurologist. Those words "lesions consistent with Multiple Sclerosis" are etched in my thoughts. What did I feel? Numb-this was not happening to me. Fear-my oldest brother Larry was bedridden with MS. Relief-finally a diagnosis. Dr. Hill told me I had the relapsing remitting type versus the progressive type like Larry. RRMS was less serious-ha! I might go years with out other related problems. I started a daily injection of Copaxone for 10 years until the pill Aubagio was released in 2013. The Copaxone joined my regimen of drugs I was already using for Rheumatoid Arthritis, another autoimmune disease I experienced for 14 previous years. Since then , I have learned that many MS people have more than one AI disease. I guess because we are strong enough to handle a lot of pain and change. LOL And have good enough insurance to pay for medicine that costs 10s of thousands of dollars.
Lots of people and "experts " tell me that life will go on and that it can be fruitful. True. But the fact is that I have MS and RA and my life has changed. Every thought and movement reminds me. Not much is automatic. For instance, lots of planning goes into simple hygiene - from avoiding falls in the tub to remembering to look in the mirror to make sure I am properly dressed and groomed. Have you ever forgot to comb your hair, ladies? Going out in public requires watching the sidewalk for hazards since I drag my feet, locating bathrooms and consciously looking at my surroundings since my vision is focused down and my mind is set on my destination. I am easily confused and forget details. Conversation is difficult. If I am interrupted, the thought is gone. When I speak with my daughters and others on the phone, in my head I recount happenings as a list. Fatigue is perhaps the worst part of AI disease. So much energy is expended to accomplish movement and thought that little is left for chores and leisure. 10 minutes is my limit on gardening in the sun. Most of my beautiful flowers are gone. Housekeeping is last on the list (always was) and is done haphazardly when we expect company. The future of my physical (and mental) condition is uncertain so I draw and paint and collect and take opportunities for travel and family. Oh I wrote this the other day and forgot to post. LOL
Friday, January 10, 2014
Books
Jan. 10 2014
Friday
Went to see The Hobbit movie to day. The sets are magical and enchanting. I am amazed by the paths thru the forests, the ruins of cities, the steps and bridges, the hair on Bilbos feet and that somewhere out there dwarfs and elves and fairies really exist. It is easy to imagine that different time and place where monster Orks live and trees talk. It all reminds me of the Avalon series by Bradley-books that I didn't want to end. Books like that are a treasure.
Reading was always an escape for me. My first book was in the 4th grade. "Shag". The story of a buffalo who survived a plains winter. And so it began. We did not have access then to a lot of books. I read anything- a comic book "The Swiss Family Robinson" and Superman comics and Grit newspapers and church books about "Danny Orliss". Not sure where they came from. When we moved to Willard, I got to go to the library every Saturday morning when we went to the Laundromat. Oh- I was in heaven. I read Nancy Drew and other mysteries, teen romances, Helen Kellers life and other life stories such as Lucretia Mott, Justin Morgan, and Julius Caesar. Then I moved on to "Katherine", Victoria Holt and Phyllis Whitney and To Kill a Mocking Bird, The Scarlet Letter, Lord of the Flies and Les Miserables for high school English class. When I started working, I joined Doubleday Book Club with 4 books free and 6 more to order in a year. I read Gone With the Wind which was a favorite for years. And many more-Deliverance, Far From the Madding Crowd, and Helter Skelter. I went thru a period of historical romances like Sweet Savage Love-who can forget the hot love scenes. Then I found Flannery OConnor, Kathleen Porter, Jane Smiley and Mary Shelley in college literature. I still went to the library and there I discovered Jesse Stuart who led me to a plethora of Kentucky and Appalachian literature. When I bought Pillars of the Earth and saw the size of the book- @700 pages-I was not sure if I was ready to tackle it. When I neared the end, I did not want it to stop. My new favorite book. Imagine my excitement when I found there was a sequel. Other books followed-The Red Tent, The Tall Woman and The Thirteenth Tale. Work and MS soon consumed my personal life. The fatigue and lack of focus hindered my reading. Now I still own my stacks of books and am unable to read because I cant stay focused longer than 2 sentences. I am optimistic tho- just ordered the new Lee Smith book and was able to read a set of 3 diaries written by Zephyr Hord Price who was born in Richmond Twp in the early 1900s. Records of her daily activities soothed my brain.
In a future writing-a list of books Ive read.
Oh-my resolution from 2013 was to discontinue use of apostrophes.
Friday
Went to see The Hobbit movie to day. The sets are magical and enchanting. I am amazed by the paths thru the forests, the ruins of cities, the steps and bridges, the hair on Bilbos feet and that somewhere out there dwarfs and elves and fairies really exist. It is easy to imagine that different time and place where monster Orks live and trees talk. It all reminds me of the Avalon series by Bradley-books that I didn't want to end. Books like that are a treasure.
Reading was always an escape for me. My first book was in the 4th grade. "Shag". The story of a buffalo who survived a plains winter. And so it began. We did not have access then to a lot of books. I read anything- a comic book "The Swiss Family Robinson" and Superman comics and Grit newspapers and church books about "Danny Orliss". Not sure where they came from. When we moved to Willard, I got to go to the library every Saturday morning when we went to the Laundromat. Oh- I was in heaven. I read Nancy Drew and other mysteries, teen romances, Helen Kellers life and other life stories such as Lucretia Mott, Justin Morgan, and Julius Caesar. Then I moved on to "Katherine", Victoria Holt and Phyllis Whitney and To Kill a Mocking Bird, The Scarlet Letter, Lord of the Flies and Les Miserables for high school English class. When I started working, I joined Doubleday Book Club with 4 books free and 6 more to order in a year. I read Gone With the Wind which was a favorite for years. And many more-Deliverance, Far From the Madding Crowd, and Helter Skelter. I went thru a period of historical romances like Sweet Savage Love-who can forget the hot love scenes. Then I found Flannery OConnor, Kathleen Porter, Jane Smiley and Mary Shelley in college literature. I still went to the library and there I discovered Jesse Stuart who led me to a plethora of Kentucky and Appalachian literature. When I bought Pillars of the Earth and saw the size of the book- @700 pages-I was not sure if I was ready to tackle it. When I neared the end, I did not want it to stop. My new favorite book. Imagine my excitement when I found there was a sequel. Other books followed-The Red Tent, The Tall Woman and The Thirteenth Tale. Work and MS soon consumed my personal life. The fatigue and lack of focus hindered my reading. Now I still own my stacks of books and am unable to read because I cant stay focused longer than 2 sentences. I am optimistic tho- just ordered the new Lee Smith book and was able to read a set of 3 diaries written by Zephyr Hord Price who was born in Richmond Twp in the early 1900s. Records of her daily activities soothed my brain.
In a future writing-a list of books Ive read.
Oh-my resolution from 2013 was to discontinue use of apostrophes.
Wednesday, January 8, 2014
From grandmothers diary 1966
To let you know a daily life in 1966 at Burning Fork, Magoffin Co. Kentucky.
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Tuesday, January 7, 2014
Technology
January 7, 2014
We are still in the deep freeze here in Willard, Ohio. Tomorrow will warm to 13 degrees. I tried the bubbles in the frigid air. They did not freeze as predicted.
Today I am thankful for the technology we now have. Without it, I hate to think how many people would have been harmed in the past days. Using satellites and other radar instruments, meteorologists are able to warn us of storms and hazardous weather almost to the minute. Also, we are able to Facetime with our daughter and her family in Bowling Green. Like the Jetsons of cartoon fame, we make the call and then see the faces and voices of the recipients- our grandchildren, Ela and Aleks. They wrestle each other over the Ipad. Then Aleks doesn't want to be on camera. And Ela hogs the time they are allowed. She informed us we will need to buy 3 boxes of Girl Scout cookies soon. And Aleks begins to tell jokes. Ela leaves the room to get her joke book then they take turns. Sometimes they both leave to run upstairs for something to show while we wait. It never occurs to them that we might not be there on their return.
Other times we can send messages to be read at their convenience using the Iphone. I like my phone because it keeps me connected when we travel, it gives me directions and lets me play games. Just like my laptop at home. The computer lets me stay in touch with friends and family thru Facebook or email, do my banking, Christmas shopping and order medicine and sell stuff on ebay. Sometimes I wonder what I did before the computer. Lets see-I dealt with paper road maps, I paid the bills by writing checks on Saturday mornings, I made many trips to Mansfield to compare prices and find the right gift and I waited in line hours at Drug Mart to get my meds. If I had not done research on the internet, my MS diagnosis and current medicines could have been too late. So much less paperwork. Distant relatives are found on facebook and some long gone thru Ancestry. I used to use days off to go to the genealogy library in Mansfield to research long dead family. And arrange our family vacation to allow at least a day of research at some distant library or cemetery. Now I can view these online and complete charts easily. I did keep my little notebook of charts though. I can not leave out the photos. My phone camera takes great instant pictures that can be cropped and enhanced right away. And deleted. They can be downloaded to my computer and then used in other programs and saved forever. And with my new wireless printer, there is no reason not to print a few every now and then. I try to save and share old family photos and have thousands on my computer and external drives. And am able to retrieve quickly. Instead of making copies of important documents, I photograph them and save in document files.
Then theres television. We rented a movie to pass the afternoon today. AND we can watch Law and Order 24/7 if we want. Ugg. We use remotes for the heaters and fans and the Bose and to start the car.. Wish there was one to get me out of this chair. Ha!
Years ago, I interviewed for a supervisory job at Pepperidge Farm. One question was "What do you think will be the biggest challenge to the business in the next years?" I replied that the use and knowledge of technological advances would affect the company most. As I see them replacing employee numbers with machinery, I think I was right.
I do need to mention the "1984" aspects of technology. A camera does watch us everywhere we go. And the government listens to our phone conversations. We use numbers for identification that can be stolen. Our food is changed. And the genes in our bodies are mapped. What if your map doesn't look right someday. Will you be discarded?
The world is always changing and we need to go with it sometimes.
We are still in the deep freeze here in Willard, Ohio. Tomorrow will warm to 13 degrees. I tried the bubbles in the frigid air. They did not freeze as predicted.
Today I am thankful for the technology we now have. Without it, I hate to think how many people would have been harmed in the past days. Using satellites and other radar instruments, meteorologists are able to warn us of storms and hazardous weather almost to the minute. Also, we are able to Facetime with our daughter and her family in Bowling Green. Like the Jetsons of cartoon fame, we make the call and then see the faces and voices of the recipients- our grandchildren, Ela and Aleks. They wrestle each other over the Ipad. Then Aleks doesn't want to be on camera. And Ela hogs the time they are allowed. She informed us we will need to buy 3 boxes of Girl Scout cookies soon. And Aleks begins to tell jokes. Ela leaves the room to get her joke book then they take turns. Sometimes they both leave to run upstairs for something to show while we wait. It never occurs to them that we might not be there on their return.
Other times we can send messages to be read at their convenience using the Iphone. I like my phone because it keeps me connected when we travel, it gives me directions and lets me play games. Just like my laptop at home. The computer lets me stay in touch with friends and family thru Facebook or email, do my banking, Christmas shopping and order medicine and sell stuff on ebay. Sometimes I wonder what I did before the computer. Lets see-I dealt with paper road maps, I paid the bills by writing checks on Saturday mornings, I made many trips to Mansfield to compare prices and find the right gift and I waited in line hours at Drug Mart to get my meds. If I had not done research on the internet, my MS diagnosis and current medicines could have been too late. So much less paperwork. Distant relatives are found on facebook and some long gone thru Ancestry. I used to use days off to go to the genealogy library in Mansfield to research long dead family. And arrange our family vacation to allow at least a day of research at some distant library or cemetery. Now I can view these online and complete charts easily. I did keep my little notebook of charts though. I can not leave out the photos. My phone camera takes great instant pictures that can be cropped and enhanced right away. And deleted. They can be downloaded to my computer and then used in other programs and saved forever. And with my new wireless printer, there is no reason not to print a few every now and then. I try to save and share old family photos and have thousands on my computer and external drives. And am able to retrieve quickly. Instead of making copies of important documents, I photograph them and save in document files.
Then theres television. We rented a movie to pass the afternoon today. AND we can watch Law and Order 24/7 if we want. Ugg. We use remotes for the heaters and fans and the Bose and to start the car.. Wish there was one to get me out of this chair. Ha!
Years ago, I interviewed for a supervisory job at Pepperidge Farm. One question was "What do you think will be the biggest challenge to the business in the next years?" I replied that the use and knowledge of technological advances would affect the company most. As I see them replacing employee numbers with machinery, I think I was right.
I do need to mention the "1984" aspects of technology. A camera does watch us everywhere we go. And the government listens to our phone conversations. We use numbers for identification that can be stolen. Our food is changed. And the genes in our bodies are mapped. What if your map doesn't look right someday. Will you be discarded?
The world is always changing and we need to go with it sometimes.
Monday, January 6, 2014
Polar Vortex
January 6, 2014
Today has been noisy. The frigid wind has been whipping around the house and causes the siding to crack and pop in resistance to the cold force. Snow plows thump thump by on Rt 61 but do little good at clearing the road. We left our chimes out on the porch; I hear the deep tones of the large pipes playing their tunes. Smaller chimes ring continuously, losing their battle against the wind. I also hear the ching ching of the money leaving my pockets to pay the gas bill for the furnace that clicks on every few minutes. And the loud sudden pops the furnace makes heating then cooling. Even after 40 years here, I still jump at the gunshot sounds.
Today we also hear the little voices of Ricky, Riley and the joyous screams of Vera as she learns to pull herself up to stand at the couch. They spent the day eating, playing, napping and watching tv. The Brady Bunch show held their attention today for awhile. Ricky and Riley couldn't figure out why Bobby wanted to run away from home. And we played restaurant that required the use of the pink refrigerator. Their running in a circle routine is hampered by the chairs I use to block the furnace register that gets hot enough to melt shoes.
Now as the evening progresses, my FB friends begin posting local temps that are -7, -11, -4 with wind chills of 40 below. Jennifer points out that today it was warmer in Alaska. My brother Roger, from Arizona talks of boating in the sun. Brenda and Kristen comment on how cold it will be in Florida with lows in the 40s. Then I watch the tv weather and learn a new phrase "polar vortex". Sounds like we are in a Stephen King novel. Makes me think of "The Shining" and the massive storm at that hotel. And the weather lady warns of weather quakes. The loud noises and booms I hear tonight might be the earths rapid expansion as it freezes and cracks or a window cracking or even damage to walls or siding. Scary stuff. The softer sounds will be my joints and bones cracking as I try to stand this cold.
The deep freeze is expected to last thru Wednesday. We are in a Level 3 in Huron County. Only emergency road travel is allowed. Schools and businesses are closed. Even Pepperidge Farm, RR Donnelley, and MTD sent employees home today and will be shut down 3 or 4 shifts. Jennifer said Bowling Green is closed also. Leah called to check in and told me that I75 and Rt 25 and Rt 23 in that area and around Toledo were closed. Unheard of. The news says the records from 1994 will be broken. I remember that cold and am thankful to God that Gary and I do not have to get out for work. And that my family is still safe and warm.
Tomorrow, Gary and I will blow bubbles into the cold air to see if they really freeze. And then snuggle under the warm covers. Oh-rain by Friday.
Today has been noisy. The frigid wind has been whipping around the house and causes the siding to crack and pop in resistance to the cold force. Snow plows thump thump by on Rt 61 but do little good at clearing the road. We left our chimes out on the porch; I hear the deep tones of the large pipes playing their tunes. Smaller chimes ring continuously, losing their battle against the wind. I also hear the ching ching of the money leaving my pockets to pay the gas bill for the furnace that clicks on every few minutes. And the loud sudden pops the furnace makes heating then cooling. Even after 40 years here, I still jump at the gunshot sounds.
Today we also hear the little voices of Ricky, Riley and the joyous screams of Vera as she learns to pull herself up to stand at the couch. They spent the day eating, playing, napping and watching tv. The Brady Bunch show held their attention today for awhile. Ricky and Riley couldn't figure out why Bobby wanted to run away from home. And we played restaurant that required the use of the pink refrigerator. Their running in a circle routine is hampered by the chairs I use to block the furnace register that gets hot enough to melt shoes.
Now as the evening progresses, my FB friends begin posting local temps that are -7, -11, -4 with wind chills of 40 below. Jennifer points out that today it was warmer in Alaska. My brother Roger, from Arizona talks of boating in the sun. Brenda and Kristen comment on how cold it will be in Florida with lows in the 40s. Then I watch the tv weather and learn a new phrase "polar vortex". Sounds like we are in a Stephen King novel. Makes me think of "The Shining" and the massive storm at that hotel. And the weather lady warns of weather quakes. The loud noises and booms I hear tonight might be the earths rapid expansion as it freezes and cracks or a window cracking or even damage to walls or siding. Scary stuff. The softer sounds will be my joints and bones cracking as I try to stand this cold.
The deep freeze is expected to last thru Wednesday. We are in a Level 3 in Huron County. Only emergency road travel is allowed. Schools and businesses are closed. Even Pepperidge Farm, RR Donnelley, and MTD sent employees home today and will be shut down 3 or 4 shifts. Jennifer said Bowling Green is closed also. Leah called to check in and told me that I75 and Rt 25 and Rt 23 in that area and around Toledo were closed. Unheard of. The news says the records from 1994 will be broken. I remember that cold and am thankful to God that Gary and I do not have to get out for work. And that my family is still safe and warm.
Tomorrow, Gary and I will blow bubbles into the cold air to see if they really freeze. And then snuggle under the warm covers. Oh-rain by Friday.
Sunday, January 5, 2014
Into 2014
As we are 5 days into 2014, I discovered a blog with my 2 lonely posts that I started in 2011. I have resolved to post family events and my thoughts here for this year.
I have a number of journals completed over the years that are scattered among my many books. I need to place together so someday my daughters will get to read them. As bait, I will start telling them that I have been hiding money in my large collection of books about Kentucky and Appalachia and in my family and genealogy papers. They will have to spend time in my books and perhaps learn who I really am.
Anyway this will be my journal for 2014.
Today we plan to gear up for a forecasted snowstorm tonight. Will also bring frigid temperatures the next few days. Power outages are anticipated so we will prepare as in past years. The menu is fried chicken and a roast. And salad fixings. We will have extra drinking water and several containers for a toilet flush or so. Check flashlights and batteries. Still have all those battery operated Christmas candles out. May need to use them finally. Our heat for this 1847 home is a 30" by 30" floor furnace with radiant heat that remains active without power. And our gas grill is ready to go for hamburgers from the freezer. Vehicles are full of gas and phones are charged . We have the situation in hand. The joke in Ohio is about the before storm run on groceries for milk, bread, and toilet paper. We always used to include beer and cigarettes on our lists in the late 70s. Times change.
I have a number of journals completed over the years that are scattered among my many books. I need to place together so someday my daughters will get to read them. As bait, I will start telling them that I have been hiding money in my large collection of books about Kentucky and Appalachia and in my family and genealogy papers. They will have to spend time in my books and perhaps learn who I really am.
Anyway this will be my journal for 2014.
Today we plan to gear up for a forecasted snowstorm tonight. Will also bring frigid temperatures the next few days. Power outages are anticipated so we will prepare as in past years. The menu is fried chicken and a roast. And salad fixings. We will have extra drinking water and several containers for a toilet flush or so. Check flashlights and batteries. Still have all those battery operated Christmas candles out. May need to use them finally. Our heat for this 1847 home is a 30" by 30" floor furnace with radiant heat that remains active without power. And our gas grill is ready to go for hamburgers from the freezer. Vehicles are full of gas and phones are charged . We have the situation in hand. The joke in Ohio is about the before storm run on groceries for milk, bread, and toilet paper. We always used to include beer and cigarettes on our lists in the late 70s. Times change.
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