Labor Day

Today, Sept 4 2017, Labor Day, is surely bringing in the fall weather. Warm air is moving gently across the porch but the rushing wind in the trees shows their changing colors and sounds the dry rustle of yellow leaves falling and scraping across the roadway. Few travelers are out today. An occasional car whips the leaves into action so they can get on down the road to the neighbors yard. Or a motorcycle stirs them into shoelaces and delivers them to other towns.

 Nearby someone is burning wood for the holiday cookout. The odor makes me think of late evening bonfires and s'mores eaten by the squealing grandkids. Cricket chirping competes with the mellow tones of the wind chimes. They have been calling for mid September frosts which will cease their annoying song.

In 1976 the Labor Day weekend was rainy then hot and humid. I was miserable as I labored without drugs to deliver my oldest daughter at home for a day then in Willard Memorial Hospital for a night and day. In those days the nurses kept the prospective mothers strapped to the bed. All I wanted was to walk. Only one person could sit with me. Now they will let the whole extended family in the room if the mother and father can stand it. I just needed the doctor.

Other Labor Day weekends in the 80s, we traveled to Louisville, Kentucky for a family reunion at Grandmother Maudies on my mothers side. Those were hot days in an open park area. Most everyone came because few places worked weekends then. And the kids were still young enough to be made to see their relatives once a year.

Younger Labor Days signaled the start of the new school year. That weekend meant haircuts and home perms for me and 3 sisters until junior high. My poor brothers were treated to curly hair one year when Mother had leftover perm solution. Rogers school picture that year clearly showed his continued anger at the situation.  Ralph was too young to care and not in school yet. I now wonder how Mother felt when he was the only one at home and six of us were out of her way for the day.
She did not get a job until he was in first grade.

The holiday in the teen age years meant we still had to work a full day at the muck farm. Workers had to pull double duty and a long day since the farm season was ending as kids returned to school. Many of the girls shopped at Hills that Sat or Sun and compared clothing and supples while we worked. The air buzzed with excitement for the changes coming.

Labor Day used to be the end date for white shoes and white skirts for ladies. Now anything goes for fashion - not style. I will wear sandals and shorts in Ohio until the snow flies or the leaves burn. And Gary will mow the lawn in December when it is warm enough.

Lifes rules

Life rules and observations according to Karen:

 

 Check the toilet paper before you sit down.

 Always take a Kleenex. Your nose will run.

 Carry a hundred dollar bill in your wallet for shopping emergencies and donations to the less fortunate.

 Never burn a book. It carries someone's soul.

 You can't have too many books. You can have too little space. Move.

 A true best friend loves you without bias and encourages you to be wild.

 Anything you make is art. Express yourself. Keep paint on your hands and lyrics on your tongue.

 Listen to the cicadas in August. They sing the summer away.

 Your sister loves you when your mother has passed.

 Cousins are the best playmates and always have a connection to you.

 Grandmothers love unconditionally.

 Reunions recall childhood.

 Smoke on the Water makes you dance.

 Write your story a sentence at a time. A grandchild will memorize your words.

 Your mother is always with you as you parent and love and rejoice. Sometimes she is in your face.

 Buy red lipstick for your granddaughter.

 Let your oldest granddaughter be the boss.

 Grandsons don't give kisses but they like snuggles and hugs.

 Boys talk farts, poop and mine craft.

 The mountains call to me.

 Old enemies become your best old friends.

 At 60, it's okay to wear your Jammie's all day.

 Retirement means you no longer work. STOP. Enjoy the leaves in the breeze.

 Listen to others. They need a shoulder for caring.

 When you are lost, pray to God. You will find your purpose.

Don’t waste time on apostrphes.

I am sure theres more.CC

Candy Time

As a young child., I went to Jackson Local School in Jackson County in southern Ohio. The school and our home were located in the rolling foothills of Appalachia. We lived in the country far apart from other families on Tick Ridge. The school was our social life. The friends were great, and I loved the writing and math workbooks. Before I started 1st grade, I was allowed to go on a one day trial for the first grade with my older sisters. A high point in my life was the day when Mrs. Gahm opened the Big Look and See reader on the easel, and I learned to read the word "look". The world was opened. One day, Mrs. Gahm asked me to write my name on the blackboard. To me, writing meant cursive versus printing, and I wrote Sue in cursive. She was displeased but I had practiced with my sisters and knew how to do it. I quickly found that 1st graders only print their words. We practiced our printing on squares of paper cut from grocery bags. Although most students had yellow tablets, that paper was saved for important work. The teacher gave us stamps and stickers according to the seasons for excellent work. Mrs. Gahm kept her handkerchief down the front of her dress.

 In 2nd grade, I had Mrs. Essex as a teacher. We learned counting to 1000 and adding and subtraction. I used to take my workbook home on the weekends to do pages ahead. Recess also became important as I learned to socialize with other kids. Mrs. Essex had a daughter, Nancy, one year older than me whose dresses were passed to me. Jackpot for pretty dresses with under slips with bells. I still have the dresses in a trunk.

 In 3rd grade, I was taught geography, health and multiplication by Mrs. Betz who was short and stern. In geography, we studied Eskimos and became familiar with China on the other side of the world. As we stood in line for the bus, I became adept at the memorization of the times tables. 3rd graders were eligible for candy time after afternoon recess. In the principal’s office, candies and snacks were displayed on a wooden rack. For a dime, I bought small boxes of stick pretzels wrapped in cellophane. The first time I ate pretzels.

 Although shy, I was a good student. The reading and math and pretzels were the beginning of me knowing the world.

Summer Cedar Point

Tomorrow Ela and Aleks will go to Cedar Point with their cousins and parents who are visiting from California. I feel their excitement. When we were kids, we went to Cedar Point for the Pioneer Rubber Co picnic. My dad worked there,and he could get numerous tickets for a small price. My cousins and aunt and uncle from Lebanon came to go with us. One time, Aunt Lucy and Uncle Jack and grandmother Maudie came from Kentucky to accompany us. I think the anticipation of all the family coming to visit was better than the actual  trip to the amusement park. The parents were only in their 30s then. And grandmother was not even 60 years. I wonder what rides she took. She was probably thrilled to see the gunfights and the skeletons on the Riverboat Cruise. And I can see her smiling as she rode the Sky Ride and viewed the beautiful flowers. It is hard for me to imagine my parents riding a roller coaster. They probably went on the Pirate Ride and the train. I think they spent most of their time trying to keep track of their 7 children   We took coolers and sandwiches for lunch.  At the appointed time we met at the picnic area for food. There was no money for Berardi fries and cokes. At mealtime, we talked about the rides we had been on and who was the most scared on the double Ferris wheel. And the large stuffed animals at the Midway games. We always went in the arcade and wished for a nickel to buy a fortune from the fake rotating gypsy lady. Sometimes we were allowed enough change to have our weight or age guessed for a prize. My mom and grandmother giggled as their ages were guessed way under the actual number. Grandmother chose a chalkware pheasant ,and Mother chose a  small cup and saucer on its own stand. I still have a roaring lion on a platform won for an age misguess. I was 10 and they guessed 14.
We always went home sunburned and tired. At home. we ate bologna sandwiches while the adults recounted the day and other old times. The next morning the tearful goodbyes were for the end of a different time and going back to farm chores. For a time, we were in some other world apart from country town of Willard, Ohio.



Sent from my iPhone

Letting Go

Letting go of your things can be both disheartening and a relief. Last week I sold 6 cartons of used books from my collection for $23 at Half Price books in Columbus. Looking at my shelves, one would say I am still book rich. Those volumes gave me hours of enjoyment and took me out of this life.
This week I will once again have my last garage sale. I am cleaning house of lots of vintage decor, antiques, toys, and parts from dozens of incomplete projects started in my retirement. A retirement that included going to garage sales and auctions. My excitement was certainly greater when I carried those newly purchased boxes into the house to explore versus my aching back this rainy day as I carry them to the garage and disposal.
The red Radio Flyer tricycle that the grandkids rode is on the chopping block this year. As is my daughters' now vintage 600 wagon bought at Plymouth Hardware. The small wooden rockers that have satisfied two generations will go. I thought of saving them for the next ones but that's 20 years of storage. Anyway by the time my grandchildren have little ones, they will probably own the couch and run the whole show. It's hard to  release ourselves from stuff that reminds us of our journey and those who have passed.
Life changes and we have to adjust or  down the rabbit hole we go. Or we can sit still and hope to disappear into old age and life in the home.
Ridding myself of books  also includes the Ideals magazines collected by my husband. 100s of them. He loved the nostalgic stories and stylized photos of days gone by. The days of Sunday dinners and home for the holidays.
I've realized that I  will no longer fit into the size 12 clothes nor can I lose that kind of weight again. The middle age spread has arrived and is here for the duration barring divorce or sorrow. The clothing rack is sagging with jeans and capris.  Plus as I get older I need fewer clothes and more pajamas.
You would think my house looks bare without all the garage sale bounty. Not so. I still paint and draw and read and care for my grandchildren.  I will keep rocks and old keys and odd items for them to carry home and treasure.
My first pre sale was to grandson Riley who needed the globe pencil sharpener, a small toy rocker for a beany baby and a 3x5 piece of my artwork. He is like most other shoppers. Just whatever catches the eye. Riley paid for his purchases by doing a few small chores for me. Vera bought her mom a wreath of roses. She still owes me. And Ricky found an old scrapbook in the freebie box.
Then today is May 6 and cloudy with a high of 45 degrees. I am sitting in front of a heater with most stuff inside the garage due to a 70% chance of rain. We opened the doors at 9 am and have had sporadic customers since. We met a nice man from New Washington who listened to Gary's Camaro run and collected Jadite dishes like his grandma had.
Overall sales were slow, I think, due to the weather. In the end I donated 2 Traverse loads of my valuable goods to charity. I am finished with the hard work of sales. Next up is the downsizing auction. Please attend.

My heart is ready to let go of all things. The memory of you is enough and that is slowly fading away.