Sunday, October 31, 2010

The Plot Thickens...

I traded a couple of emails with my neighbors across the street today. They confirmed that we had more trick-or-treaters than usual, and also said that many of them were being carted in from other communities. (Cloverdale, Indy, Mooresville.) I put two and two together and figured out all by myself that Plainfield's having Halloween hours on the 30th instead of the 31st made us a target for those who wanted extra loot. Trick-or-treat on Saturday in Pfield...and in their own communities on Sunday. That's the trick! They got double treats! Hey...I'm no Halloween Scrooge. I didn't mind so much--just needed some plausible explanation for why, after 18 years in this neighborhood, I ran out of sweets!

It was supposed to be 66 degrees today. Certainly, it was sunny, but I don't think the thermometer ever registered as high as 60. They lied! I should have been out raking leaves, but (typical Sunday) I sat on my ample be-hind all day. The perspective is amusing, if you think about it. I sit on my be-hind nearly EVERY day. I just give myself PERMISSION to do it on Sunday!

Ever onward and upward. Looking toward the holidays... Talked to my grandchildren by phone yesterday. Both of them asked when they could come to my house. Guess I should work that out, huh?

Saturday, October 30, 2010

Ghosts of Halloweens Past

I realize this isn't Halloween. The real occasion is tomorrow, but Plainfield, in its infinite wisdom, has declared tonight as trick-or-treating night. Thus, I am reminded of Halloweens past.

To be perfectly honest, I don't remember all that much about my own trick-or treating days or the costumes I wore. I remember one year, before my brother was born, when my sister and I went out in our satin Chinese pajamas as costumes. (I think I only remember it because someone took a picture! Where was that, Shari? Hawaii? I was still pre-school age.) In those days, our parents could/would just turn us loose in the neighborhood...something almost unheard of these days. Oh, they were simpler times!

The very next Halloween that I remember was in 1953. Shari and I were sitting in the living room in our rented house in California watching our brand new black and white television--can't remember who was supervising us--when my father came home from the hospital and announced, loudly, "It's a BOY!" Floyd Douglas Covill--our brother Doug--was born on Halloween. He turned out to be quite a goblin! Sadly, Doug died suddenly at age 52, but I will always remember his birthday.

When I was in 1st grade, my father was assigned to be the commanding officer at the Navy Reserve Training Center in Danville, IL. New to the area, I remember my next Halloween experience. I was dressed as a pirate. Had on some kind of hat...cut off shorts...snow boots...and a patch over my eye. A local park (Douglas Park??) had some kind of contest. We were paraded across an outdoor stage...and I won some sort of prize! I remember being very surprised. I also remember being very cold!

As with stuffed stockings at Christmas, trick-or-treating had an expiration date with my parents. Once we reached a certain age, it was all over. Maybe around 10 or earlier. I don't remember. I also don't remember missing it--except for the Christmas stockings. I kind of liked the stocking deal, even though I knew that Santa was my parents. (I'm sorry if I just burst the bubble of my readers who are still Santa believers!) It was a rite of passage. I was no longer a baby and was expected to suck it up.

Fast forward to motherhood. My daughter was born in March of 1979. By October, she could barely even sit up on her own. Still, I put a little costume on her and sat her up by a pumpkin for a picture. Obviously, we didn't go trick-or-treating. My then-husband decided to go be with his other children...and I guess I don't blame him, except that I was then stuck at the house trying to answer the door with every knock AND try to take care of my baby. I was too stupid to turn off the lights and just let the roving kids go to another house because I was really into the occasion. I didn't want to be a Halloween Scrooge! Instead, I moved Meg's high chair near the front door so I could try to feed her and "treat" the neighborhood kids at the same time. I felt so alone at a time when I wanted OUR little family to be together. Understand that, at my daughter's age then, I couldn't even go to the bathroom in peace. Joe was never a help. I remember Megan's first Halloween because I felt so abandoned.

Halloweens thereafter consisted of coming up with homemade costumes. As a toddler, Meg was a clown. Later, she was a movie star, a Japanese woman, a witch...what else? When she was older and we were living in Pontiac, IL, her father would take her out "trick-or-drinking". It seems that everywhere he took her, he was invited in for a drink. Not sure how many treats she got back then, but he had a good time!

Flash forward again to Cloverdale, IN...1988. My husband was the principal at the jr-sr high school. We lived in town in a rented house. On Halloween night, he was sitting on the front steps of the house when a pumpkin was bounced off the mailbox, smashing the pumpkin and damaging the mailbox. Joe recognized the sound of the car and knew of the student who owned it. Needless to say, that kid and one of his co-hort friends had to do manual labor at our house for two weekends in trade for his not reporting it to the authorities. It would have been funnier had I not worried about what other stunts could have been foist on us due to his position.

When my grandchildren were born, a whole other generation of fun began for Halloween. When my baby Robin was very young, she was brought to my school dressed in an elephant costume. I was one happy grandma! When Robin was maybe three, Megan and Nathan and I spent an entire weekend (and quite a bit of money) creating an astronaut costume for Robin. It was the best! When Ryan came along, he had a variety of costumes, none of which we gave much effort to. He was too young to care back then.

Then there were the Frodo years. Frodo was the cocker spaniel that I inherited when Meg, Nathan, and family moved to Muncie. Bless her toady little heart, Frodo was never housebroken nor knew the word "no". On Halloween, things got dicey. She would bark vociferously at every knock on the door. It quickly got old. Finally, I would shut her into the back bedroom, but that only netted barking PLUS scratching on the door. Ugh! I had the Fro-dog for three years of training without results. When I finally had her put to sleep, I felt like an absolute criminal, but I was weary of feeling that we (me, Megan, and my grandchildren) were living in her toilet. Double ugh!

So tonight, Halloween of 2010, I had to turn off my lights and shut down because, for the first time in my 18 years in this house, I ran out of candy 45 minutes before official the end of trick-or-treating hours. I have never seen the neighborhood so full of roving bands of children! Not sure why... Had one radio friend and one former student show up at my doorstep, with children.

I just finished talking to my grandchildren on the phone. I love those kiddos so very much!
Another Halloween down. On to Ryan's birthday and Thanksgiving. God bless!

Oh...another ghost of Halloweens past: once upon a time, Halloween was spelled with an apostrophe between the two e's...and if you left it out on a spelling test, it was WRONG. Now, no one even has a memory of those days. Sigh. So many changes for an old English teacher to deal with!

Nightie...

Bring 'Em On!

I am ready for the trick-or-treaters. It's a process each year.
I have batteries in my bat wreath, whose red eyes flash and it laughs maniacally from a motion sensor.
I have my electric pumpkins in the bay window...turned on...with the blinds pulled up just enough to let them show through.
I have moved my car over in the drive, to make more room for kids coming to the door.
I've raked the leaf drifts in front of the house and swept the sidewalk.
Candy is in a bowl by the door.
Porch light is on.
It's always fun to see the children in costume...but I miss my grandchildren!!!!

Friday, October 29, 2010

A Drop in the Bucket

I helped out a former student today. She and her fairly new husband are trying to support four children--two his and two hers--on his disability. It's not pretty. We connected on Facebook. I met them in Mooresville and gave them some food from my freezer and pantry, and just a tiny bit of cash. I know, I know...I don't have the resources to support this family...nor should I have to...but I do not want to see the children suffer. It's discouraging, actually. I have directed them to every possible organization I know of to help them get through this. I hope it helps a little.

I am STILL working on the jewelry box organization. I think I have a mental disorder! How is it that I can't just throw out dozens of things that have shown up in the boxes of "stuff"? My favorite Zuni Indian ring is still missing. Don't have a clue where it could be...

It occurred to me early today that trick-or-treating in Plainfield is TOMORROW! I had to run out to get candy. Also have to get a couple of prescriptions filled. I really would like it if my meds would run out after the 1st of the month instead of before my pension kicks in.

Some counties are lifting their burn bans, since the last storm, but Hendricks seems to still be under the ban. I just wish my neighbor would quit clearning his leaves. Makes me look bad!

Wednesday, October 27, 2010

Ah...the Nostalgic Sounds of Autumn in Plainfield, IN

The rustle of the dry leaves...the scrape of rakes on the dry ground...the whine of leaf blowers...the rumble of the DPW leaf vacuum trucks...the blare of the tornado sirens...
Huh? Wait! Tornado sirens??
I got up somewhat late yesterday morning. Was sitting on the pot (TMI!) when I heard the tornado sirens go off. They are tested at 11:00 AM every Friday...but this was Tuesday and definitely not 11:00. I quickly turned on the local TV news stations only to find out that a powerful and dangerous storm was approaching...one that encompassed the entire state, north to south. There was a Skywarn net up on amateur radio in the county. I got ready to rock and roll! Winds were horrific. Things got worrisome. I prepared to take refuge in the bathroom--the only room in the house with no windows. To make a long story short, the storm moved through and I survived. There were lots of limbs and twigs down in the yard, but the really good part was that I never lost power. Thanks be to God!
The storm, which took over much of the country, has been likened to a category 3 hurricane in that it registered the lowest barometric pressure ever recorded in the United States. I guess that vindicates my concern about taking cover! There were eight "confirmed" tornadoes in Indiana yesterday. Thankfully, no one was hurt.

So...I was watching Oprah today. Her guest was Jane Fonda. Jane Fonda, as in 72-year-old Jane Fonda...but man, she looked great! Of course, she has money for face lifts and whatever else it takes to look good at age 72...but I got to thinking that I am so very tired of looking like a dowager. Lacking money, what's a woman to do? I can't turn back time...but I CAN lose weight. I CAN buy a wig. I CAN get in better shape. I CAN buy younger-looking clothes. I CAN do my nails on a regular basis. I CAN change my attitude from resignation to action. I'm not dead yet. Maybe I should start acting like it??

Ciao. I need to get my mo-jo working! (By the way...what's a mo-jo?)

Monday, October 25, 2010

The Days Just Go...

This weekend, I got the sad news on Facebook that one of my former teaching colleagues had died. Bob was one of the four "core" teachers on my 8th grade team--social studies-- for the first 2-3 years that I taught middle school. Then he retired...not because he was old, but because (I think but can't prove) that his doctors wanted him to do something less stressful.

Bob was a runner...in great shape...a little guy without a hint of fat on him. He had coached cross country and maybe even track. Every year, he ran the Indianapolis Mini-Marathon. He was an affable kind of guy that his students and team members loved. Back in 1996, he had a bone marrow transplant for leukemia. He came back to teach and was doing well for many years...but then the cancer returned in his retirement. He had a transplant last spring from a foreign donor...only this time, host/graft disease took over and began to shut his organs down. He was in great pain. His wife, whom I didn't know, made daily posts on a hospital-supplied website where people could read about his progress and leave supportive messages. (Interestingly, I was the recipient of one of those "significant health event" websites when I had my brain aneurysm. I still have the printed messages!) God bless his dear wife, she never left a hint of despair in any of her posts. Bob--and family--had fought his cancer for 20 years. Now, her long vigil is over. I pray that God grants her and their college-age son the same peace that He finally gave to Bob. Bob Huffman was 60.

Gave my last Sunday School lesson on Sunday. It was a bit deep and selfish...and maybe somewhat boring to some...about the differences between love for self, love for others, and love for God--and what constitutes "enabling" and/or being "supportive". I am glad to turn over the reigns to the next group!

I went to my former school this afternoon to help my ham bud there conduct BARC (Bulldogs Amateur Radio Club). We only have ONE taker--a young lady from the high school who is cute as the dickens and would make a great radio operator. I hope she hangs with it. I would LOVE to introduce her to the radio world! My "ham bud" is Rick, WW9JD, the 7th grade math teacher who had just had a gastric bypass operation the last year that I taught. Sure enough, I hardly recognized him! He has probably lost 100 pounds and looks good! Getting to the school was interesting, however, since the main road is blocked off for construction. I got a tour of the countryside that I have never seen before!

The focus at church for the last few weeks has been "Live simply so that others may simply live". Giving is the idea. I've thought a lot about this. I don't know how much more simply I can live! I have a tiny house and an aging car. I basically do nothing for fun if it costs money, unless it is for/with the grandchildren. Occasionally, I go out to eat with friends, but not often. The only vacations I get are usually paid by my daughter so I can escort the grandchildren to California for visitation. Most of the time, however, there is too much month left at the end of the money. Like now. I continue to scour the pantry to see what I can fix to eat with what I already have. (Rest assured, I'm not starving!) Ya know...I wish I were rich--not so I could have more but so I could give more. If someone were to offer me all of the riches in the world, I wouldn't know where to start. I would pay off my house and find another, get a new car, and start giving the rest away. Honestly, at this point, I think I am giving more to the church financially than I can afford. I could step up my volunteerism, I guess. Don't have a good answer!

Still haven't finished the jewelry box project. I got stuck with what I should keep and what I should pitch...and what some of the stuff is worth. Oh, well!

Friday, October 22, 2010

Tell-Tale Signs

How can you tell when it's time to call the plumber?
1. When you do the laundry, does the water in your toilet get really low? Or bubble?
2. When you do laundry, does water come out onto the bathroom floor under the toilet?
3. When you do laundry, is there evidence that stuff has come up the drain in your bathtub?
4. When you shower or bathe, does the tub drain slowly?
5. When you flush the toilet, does the water start to go down, but then comes way up?
All of these are tell-tale signs that something is up with your plumbing, and all of them have happened to me in the last week or two. I wasn't desperate. I mean, nothing had overflowed...yet...but I did stand, plunger in hand, with every flush, just in case... Although I can scarcely afford it this month, I decided to call the plumber before something DID overflow and before the poor guys would have to work in freezing temperatures to clean out the "clean out".

The problem most always is roots in the sewer system. The company I call is out of Mooresville. They are quite reasonable in fees, and it is a testament to the plumbing problems I have here that I no longer have to tell them where I live. We are practically on a first-name basis! According to them, they have had a large upturn of calls for sewer roots because it has been so dry. Apparently, plant roots--with their actively reasoning little brains--say, "I'm thirsty. I think I'll invade that sewer pipe over there." Don't know whether to believe that or not, but who knows? In any case, another crisis averted...I hope. I need to get religious about using copper sulphate in the sewer system. A bottle of it costs about $7. If I used a bottle a month, I could do 17 monthly applications just to equal what the sewer rooting cost today. The guys were just here last November for the same problem... (I can't believe that my blog post today has to do with sewage!!)

I spend so much time in my garage room, and the place is the repository for things that have no other place in the house, so I decided to "start to commence to begin" working on cleaning up the disarray. Of course, when I deep-clean one room, I mess up another. This is a project that will not happen quickly. For now, the top of my dresser is cleaned off and my jewelry box (and stray jewelry) is on the kitchen table for organizing efforts. I can do this! I just need to find happy homes for things I can't throw away...such as my father's VFW and American Legion hats. I wonder if my grandson would like to have them? He isn't even 7 yet. Or maybe my grand-nephew Jeremy? I don't want them to go to trash. It is sad how treasured possessions get so scattered in two or three generations. I will always wonder what happened to my grandparents' dining table after I donated it in order to make room for my daughter's things here.

Another year, another FFA tragedy. Students from the Future Farmers of America descend on Indy every year for their annual convention. They are great kids. Everyone in Indy loves having them here. The media talks about the "blue jacket" invasion. Last year, one of their numbers fell several floors near an escalator at the big downtown shopping center. (He survived, but barely. A year later, he is in a nursing care facility in Texas, still on a feeding tube.) This year, one was hit by a car (but okay)...and another, who wasn't an FFA member but accompanied a group (an exchange student from Afghanistan) has disappeared. Looks like he planned to disappear. In any case, it never makes Indy look good for these things to happen. Ugh!

Lovely day here. I should have been raking leaves. I need help!

Wednesday, October 20, 2010

I'm So Aggravated!

I spent two days writing what I thought was an insightful, masterpiece blog post...but it didn't save! It's gone! I hate when that happens!

Working on my next Sunday School lesson. Trying to get inspiration. What I do can't really be called a lesson. Every person in that room is probably more qualified than I to teach lessons of faith. Mine are more presentations of (I hope) interest to everyone...just explorations of little known things about the Bible. I have learned more in preparing the lessons than I could ever hope to impart to my classmates!

Grandma Judy and I are going to be Salvation Army Doughnut Girls on Veteran's Day! I volunteer for TSA and get notices on a regular basis for events in need of volunteers. This last request was specifically for Plainfield. TSA is having a Veteran's Day celebration dinner for vets at Duke Energy here in town. The Doughnut Girls were Americans sent to France to tend to the comfort of in-the-trench soldiers in World War I. (Um...that sounds bad. Please take it in the way it was intended!) They wanted to serve comfort foods to the guys who were digging in the rain and mud for weeks on end. Supplies were limited, so the gals came up with the idea of cooking doughnuts with the ingredients they could get. The soldiers were treated to fresh, warm doughnuts and coffee, in the name of Christ's love for them. Judy and I will don the costumes of the original gals and will serve coffee and doughnuts for dessert at the luncheon in town. Should be fun! I can count several times over my years of service with SATERN (the Salvation Army Team Emergency Radio Network) when complete strangers would approach me with tears in their eyes, remembering their service days, far from home and homesick, when TSA volunteers would be there to hand out fresh doughnuts and hot coffee, asking for nothing in return. If it meant so much to them so many years later, it means a lot to me, now.

Haven't felt particularly well today. I just keep on pluggin'.

Sunday, October 17, 2010

Weekend

I took a delightful drive to Owen County early on Saturday morning to speak to a radio club about SATERN. Owen County is on a twisty-turny wooded highway south of Cloverdale where I used to live. It was a gorgeous morning...frost on the ground, fog in low-laying areas, with the sun coming up to shine on the colorful trees. Absolutely lovely!

This morning, I gave a presentation to my Sunday School class. I'm not a Bible scholar, but I find things that interest me...and we go from there. They aren't complaining, so far. Thank God for the Internet!

I have done nothing at home today except for a little laundry. Trying to find the Colts game on TV. Where are you, Colts??

Friday, October 15, 2010

Windmills

I meant to post about an interesting sight that has just popped up in northcentral Indiana in the last year or so--a HUGE windfarm. I noticed the windmills a year ago when I drove to Chicago on I-65 for a SATERN meeting, and was reminded of them on my trip to Gary to return the children to their stepmother on Monday. According to the Internet, there are 444 of them, spread out all over the country near Fowler, IN. I'm not sure why they thrill me so. Perhaps because there are so many of them. They go on for miles and miles. Now, here's the other part of the story: when I was returning to Indy in the dark, I came upon what looked like runway lights, then realized that the red blinkers were on the windmills--and every one of them winked simultaneously! It brought a smile to my face. How do they do that??

I haven't done much today. Have been working on my Sunday School lesson. I've had inspiration, but when I dig into each idea, I find that there isn't much that can be done with the class without computer presence, so I have shifted ideas at least three times. Ugh!

I will be driving to Spencer, IN, tomorrow to talk about SATERN to a radio club there. It should be a pretty drive with fall colors just about at peak. If I can get my bottom out of bed early enough, it should be fun!

My daughter keeps sending me pictures of flowers asking if I know what they are. Unfortunately, I don't, usually. California is a different planet from the Midwest. I can figure out things that are familiar to me. We just don't have as many possibilities here as they have there! Meg reports that they had a 3.1 earthquake this morning. That's not a biggie, but she felt it. (Actually, she felt one here a couple of years ago. Since I was still in my waterbed in those days, with grandchildren and dog prancing around on the bed, I didn't feel it.) I worry...

Back to work on the SS lesson. Wish me luck!

Thursday, October 14, 2010

Oopses and Whoopses and Hoots(es?)

Okay. The Chilean miners were rescued. Great story. Now let's move on, shall we? My regard for the miners flagged a bit today when I read that one miner had requested that his wife AND his mistress be there to greet him when he emerged from the mine. Mistress was there but wife took a pass. It appears that she didn't know about the mistress before the mine accident. Oops! (Hope the impending divorce doesn't use up all of the money being offered as a booby-prize for the guys who were trapped!)

When the grandchildren were here this weekend, Robin bought a Whoopee Cushion from Walmart. ($1) When Grandma Judy and Grandpa Phil came over for dinner on Sunday, Robin determined where she wanted Grandma Judy to sit...then put the cushion on her chair. Of course, Judy spied it before she sat down but was a good sport and sat on it anyway. Robin got such a charge out of that. Whoops! (If you knew how sweet and proper Grandma Judy is, you would see the irony of Robin pulling this little trick on her!)

Robin likes to help out with cooking. While we were preparing dinner, she was scraping carrots at the sink while I was cutting onions next to her and singing the "I Never Hurt an Onion, So Why Did It Make Me Cry" song. We discussed the fact that onions make eyes water. She asked if that's why they say you should cut them under running water. I said yes...but since I wear glasses, onions don't really bother my eyes much anymore. When she decided she wanted to finish up on the onion job, she dashed to her room and came back wearing a pair of 3-D glasses from the movies. What a hoot to watch her peeling onions in those!

I have a long-time radio friend who is blind (with a service dog). Bill called me yesterday to ask if I was doing any walking lately--something I'm supposed to be doing on a regular basis. When I confessed that I hadn't, he asked if I would come over today and walk the trails with him and dog...that they both needed the exercise. I said I would. It was a cool but beautiful morning. All I had to do was fix my hair. Didn't bother with makeup. (Bill can't see, you know!) The walk was going fairly well except that Chance (the dog) kept veering Bill into me in his quest to get to the grass. He had to water the weeds three times on the walk...and took a poop once. (Bill said he had already done that and wouldn't have to. Oops!) Guess all that exercise got Chance's digestive system moving. All it did for me was make me huff and puff...and my legs have been weak the rest of the day. Guess that means I need to do more, huh?

I sent some genealogy papers to my daughter today--some things she had left behind. It was my plan to put them in a flat-rate envelope at the post office that would cost me $5, but I screwed up and picked up Express Mail instead of Priority Mail. It cost just over $18 but will be there tomorrow at noon. Since she requested the papers for a Ball State student who is working on an assignment, I just decided to "eat" the difference due to my stupidity...and count it as karma for someone's college education. Oops!

I am working on my Sunday School lesson for this week, and will be speaking to a radio group about SATERN at 9:00 on Saturday morning down in Spencer, IN. Once upon a time, all of this would be nothing...but now that I'm retired, just getting moving before noon is an issue. Need to work on that!

I have word from my sister that both of my nieces have some potentially serious health conditions. Laurie has breast cancer. (We won't know any details until Tuesday.) And Lynn has some spots on her lungs and liver problems due to hepatitis-something. If you are reading this and are a praying-kind-of-person, I would appreciate it if you would put my nieces on your list. (As I get older, prayer lists get longer. I wish it were not so!) Honestly, we ALL need prayer, so just pray for the world!

Wednesday, October 13, 2010

Miners

What happy news to watch the rescue efforts for the 33 miners in Chile! The very last person has just been lifted from the mine. What joy in Chile!

God provides. Don't ever forget that. Life goes on...sometimes with new priorities. The lawsuits will happen later. For now, the world can rejoice that these men have been returned to their families after 70 days below ground. I simply can't imagine....

Tuesday, October 12, 2010

My Weekend

I can't write too much here because some of what occurred over the weekend with my grandchildren is privileged information. Suffice it to say that we were all very happy to see each other! When we walked in the door of my humble abode, little Ryan said, "Home, sweet home!" God bless the children. I have come to understand that they have no real memories of when their parents were together...only of my house as "home". When they were taken away a year ago, they were yanked from the only place they really understood as home. Thanks be to God, it is still here for them when they can come.

I'm not 100% sure how it happened, but the kids were absolute angels this weekend. There was one tiny little meltdown, directly after which the "meltdownee" fell asleep on his bean bag chair. He was a tired little boy! Otherwise, the weekend was perfect.

The weather was wonderful. The children could play indoors or out. They were happy campers to be in the yard with or without the neighbor kids. We went to the park. We watched a movie and ate popcorn. We went to church functions. (Robin got her 3rd grade Bible from our church, even though she goes elsewhere.) We played with neighbor kids. We talked and played and ate, and generally were just happy to be together. They were so good--didn't even fuss with each other. I'm not sure they understand how wonderful it was for me not to have to yell at them for misbehavior! I felt so close to both of them for the first time in ages.

I'm not sure when I will get to see them next, but I am certain of my relationship with them, as of this visit. I wish I were younger so I could be assured of being with them longer. But if I were to die tomorrow, I'd go knowing that my grandbabies understand how much I love them. Their Heffelman grandparents and I have bent over backwards to give these children the most love the world has even known, without being enablers. I feel so blessed.

God bless the babies. God bless Grandma and Grandpa Heffelman. And...oh yes...God, please bless me, too!

Wednesday, October 6, 2010

Too Much

Was in my granddaughter's bedroom today, changing bed linen and cleaning up the mess from the last time she was here. There is WAY too much in that little room. Ryan's room has a toy rack with bins in it to store stuff. (I found the missing bin, by the way.) Robin's room doesn't because they don't make one in the size she needs for the only available space. I just started pitching things...little things that don't seem to be attached to anything. She has craft kits that we haven't really done anything with. She has books that she hasn't read. She has candy left over from last year's Valentine party at school. There are drawers full of outgrown clothing and lots and lots of things like rocks, sea shells, beads, little dolls, big dolls, pencils of all sorts, crayons, Bendaroos--you name it, it's in there. I filled up one garbage bag. More to come.

I've been trying to clean and organize for the kids' visit. Five minutes after they hit the door on Friday night, I will ask myself why I bothered. Still, I keep thinking that it helps if I start out with a clean slate. Maybe!

Last night, I just cried and cried. One of my radio friends came to pick up the turtle sandbox and the princess booster seat that I had offered for his grandchildren because mine had outgrown them and are no longer here often enough to take advantage of them. I wasn't weeping over the loss of those things. Was actually glad to see the sandbox go. What caused my tears were memories of a little girl in the back seat of my car who wept pitiously when we drove by Hummel Park without stopping. She sobbed, "Bye bye s'ide." (Slide.) And I remembered the day that Grandpa Phil and I drove to Walmart in Muncie with his "big brue truck" to buy the sandbox and sand. Happier days...simpler days. I hate growing old and feeling this sense of loss, but I hate it more that my grandchildren are growing up and no longer have memories of those days. They were such adorable babies. I pray to God that they become adorable adults. I won't be here to see it, but that's my prayer.

We have a busy weekend planned. Actually, weekends with the children plan themselves. By the time we have opportunity to play with the neighbor kids, visit with the other grandparents, go to Sunday School, eat our favorite foods, do something creative, watch a movie or whatever, the weekend is gone. My biggest challenge will be the trips up and back, twice. The children just don't seem to be able to get along in the car these days...

I still have a lot to do around here in order to feel good about a visit, but I'm still pluggin'.

Monday, October 4, 2010

Only So Many Perfect Songs

My passion in life, before I lost my voice, has always been music. I sang in church. I sang in school. I sang at home. Many of my happy memories of the past have to do with music and performances.

My high school class had 800+ members. Edna Ruth Wood was the choir director and task master. It was well known that you couldn't get a berth for a solo performance unless you took voice lessons. I did. My voice teacher was a professional coloratura who was well known in the Jewish community of Oak Park, IL, in particular, and in Chicago (at Mt Sinai Temple), in general.

I got lucky. After auditions, I was awarded the solo in the Sophomore spring program. Two songs: one, plus an encore. It went swimmingly. The other music teacher was heard to say, "What breath control!" when I performed. It was a great day for me.

In my old age, I listen to songs endlessly...but only those that I consider perfect. Perfect songs are a blend of lyrics, background, and vocals. The two biggest in my estimation are "Evergreen" by Barbra Streisand, and "If I Can't Love Her" from the Broadway version of "Beauty and the Beast" There are others, of course. But if you choose to listen to my choices, please listen to the background as much as the meaning. I also love the Black Eyed Peas performance at Oprah's flashmob deal a year ago.

God is still at work in my life. Even though I can no longer sing, I cherish the music that life produces.

Summary of My Day

Got up. Got ready for church. Went to church. Presented a Sunday School lesson. Went to McDonald's drive-thru. Ate. Ate. And ate. Watched TV. Took a nap. Watched the Colts game. (Heartbreaker!) Ate some more. Put a load of dishes in the dishwasher. Time for bed. That's it in a nutshell. My world and welcome to it. (Apologies to James Thurber.)

Saturday, October 2, 2010

Bring It On!

Today was Plainfield's main event: Quaker Day, with parade. It's the only parade in Plainfield all year, and (wouldn't you know it) it rained! We haven't had rain to speak of in the Indy area for months, but today it truly rained on our parade!

It was also jacket weather. That in itself is kind of scary because we had temperatures in the 90s just last week. (Scattered frost is forecast for Monday and Tuesday. Good ol' Indiana weather!) When the National Weather Service started making noise like cooler temps were coming, the wheels started grinding in my head. I needed to get things ready for the heating season. I got the furnace filters cleaned, thanks to a lot of help from my friend, the Amish Santa in the M&Ms jacket. Santa Ryan also helped me change the bottom sheet on my grandson's loft bed. (The mattress has to come completely out of the frame. I can't do it alone without major effort.) Got the area around the baseboard heaters in my garage/bedroom cleaned up (Dust, cobwebs, and dead flies gone, etc.) I have the fall decorations in front of the house, complete with pumpkin. I've located the leaf rake (and the snow shovel), so I'm ready. Okay, Mr. Weatherman...bring it on!

Yesterday was payday for me, so I stocked up on groceries and meds. I have a stash of my grandkids favorite foods for next weekend. I just have to keep on pluggin' on the rest of the house...which I am doing. If I EVER get it the way I want it, I will be encouraged never to let it get so cluttered again. (That's my story, and I'm sticking to it!)

I got an email from my grandchildren's stepmom, giving directions where I am to meet up with them next Friday. Thankfully, it will keep me out of Chicago traffic. I will be meeting them in the Gary, IN, area at 7:30 Eastern Time, which puts me on the road in the dark...but it is fairly familiary territory for me, so--unless it is raining--I should be just fine. I will make sure to have the windshield clean, inside and out. This will be a new venture for all of us. We will have to make allowances for traffic delays on both ends and hope for the best. Since this is a 3-day weekend for the kids, I will meet up with them again on Monday at 7:30. I think it's about a 2 1/2 hour drive up. We'll get back plenty late, but we'll manage! I miss the little skunks. They are growing up way too fast for me.

I'm teaching adult Sunday School tomorrow. Wish me luck!

I forgot the worst one...

In all of my diatribe about bullying, I left out the worst one.
When I taught 4th grade, I had a cute little guy whose mother and brother were killed in a car crash the year before. He got into some altercation with another kid on the playground during recess. The other kid said, "At least I have a mother!"
I reacted poorly. I wanted to strangle the kid...but how could I find a way to take back the words that his peer had said??
Sometimes, even when adults are around, things can't be controlled. Ugh!

Friday, October 1, 2010

Bullying

The gay and lesbian community is in an uproar because three young homosexual teens have committed suicide in the last three weeks because they were being bullied. (One in Indiana.) Even Ellen Degeneres was near tears on her TV show over it. Ever since the Columbine massacre, the focus has been on bullying and zero tolerance for aggressive behaviors, and the target has been schools because that is the microcosm of society where kids are located for a large part of their day. That puts the monkey on the backs of the teachers and administrators. We are supposed to be able to fix it. (I say "we" in the sense that I was a teacher in recent years.)

I feel bad that kids decide it is better to be dead than endure the emotional abuse that comes at the hands of their peers, but it's not a school problem. It's a maturity problem. Children are not equipped to deal with things that deny them acceptability. To be denied acceptance means they are worthless, in their eyes. And bullying is not limited to those on the fringe by way of sexuality. Look at the comments posted at the end of news articles...by adults talking to other adults. Racism is rampant. The anonymity of the Internet allows people to say thing they would never think of saying to a person's face!

I'm sorry to have to say this, but no amount of sensitivity training or talking to kids about sticking up for the underdog is going to work. They aren't mature enough to get it. Bullying is as old as the hills, and then some. It won't change. IT WON'T CHANGE. In all of life, there is a pecking order. It isn't until one gets old (like me) that the pecking order levels out.

When she was in third grade, my daughter tried to sit with a really odd youngster at lunch. He was special ed...probably with a mental illness that would now be labeled as autistic or worse. She felt sorry for him. I applauded her for trying to befriend him, but she said, "Mom, he talks to his banana at lunch." The young man was killed on the first day of summer vacation that year when he rode his bicycle behind a garbage truck that was backing up. He had been warned not to, but didn't heed the warning.

In my years of teaching, I've had a lot of sad cases. One young man who had an odor, was tormented by his classmates, but he fought back and made thing worse. At one point, I called a youngster to the hall because he had been baiting the fellow in order to make more fun of him. "You are putting me in an impossible situation," I told him. "I am forced to defend a boy who is guilty of creating his own circumstances!" (The tormentor later ended up in jail for drug/alcohol offenses, including a car accident that seriously injured another person.)

Another student who was identified as autistic, with other problems including a huge speech impediment, was a bright boy...but I had to stay on top of him in the classroom. The other kids loved to egg him on because, when he got aggravated, his eyes would go crazy just before he was ready to blow up. At one point, he was voicing (in front of other students) how he understood people who would bring in weapons and kill people. I pulled him out to the hall and talked to him, explaining about how people who pick on other people do so because they are insecure and like to see other people suffer so they will feel better about themselves. His response was, "If they feel that way, they must understand how it feels to be me." I wept for him, in front of him. When he left my 8th grade classroom and entered into high school, he was soon expelled because of a reaction to being bullied yet again.

I had one victory in all of this: one student who was pushed to the brink of explosion by another who had been bullied. I watched as he clenched his fists and was totally capable of cleaning the other kid's clock...but he turned around and walked away with steam coming out of his ears. I wrote his parents a note about it, praising him for his mature reaction to a bad situation. (His parents kept the note. They read it to me years later when I was dealing with another of their kids.)

I was bullied in junior high school. I was a new kid. The school was putting on an Americana program. The music teacher discovered that I had a good singing voice, which kind of displaced the student who was previously considered the best singer of the class. We were both awarded verses in singing "Swing Low, Sweet Chariot". She and one of her cronies hated me for that and whispered threats every time I walked by them. I was scared. My mother went to the principal. The principal called all of the girls into an assembly and told everyone that it had to stop (without mentioning names). And, interestingly, it DID stop. Also interestingly, the young lady in question was never a musical competitor in high school.

Bullying will always be with us.
Gay or straight; male or female; handicapped or normal; old, young, etc. It ain't gonna stop!