My mother was my best friend. She wasn't the huggy-touchy-feely-Suzy-Homemaker kind of mom, but she was always there for her children and loved us all, unconditionally. You'd better bet we had our routines and traditions--things we knew we could count on, largely because of a very strong sense of family--grandparents and all--no matter where we lived all over the world. One thing I noticed, big time, was that my mother and HER mother had a great relationship. I admired that. I determined that I wanted that in my life, too. My mother and I were at least as close as she was with my grandmother, and I hoped that when I became a mother, I could have that kind of relationship with my chilren.
As a teenager, I can remember watching as some of my friends would fuss and fume about their relationships with their parents. I didn't understand that not everyone was as lucky as I. If something good happened to me, I couldn't wait to get home to tell Mom about it. Same thing if something not so good happened. We shared a lot.
Mom had been my Girl Scout leader in middle school. She and her co-leader took the troop camping at least once a year. Mom and I shared that, too--a love of camping. Thus, when I was in high school and was attending a weekend Camporee event, I was having such a grand time that all I could think of was, "I wish Mom were here. She would love this!" I had to go home and tell her all about it, but it wasn't the same as if she had been there in person.
My mother died suddenly on the day after Thanksgiving in 1986. I was only 39 years old; my daugher, only 7. It changed everything about my life. I couldn't be Mommy's Little Girl anymore. I had to care for my dad and take care of my daughter without my mother there to back me up if I sagged. That Christmas was going to be a sad one.
For children, life has to go on. Megan (my daughter) was given a solo to sing at her school's Christmas program--one verse of the song The Friendly Beasts. That night, I sat in the bleachers in the gym of her elementary school, less than a month after my mother's passing. When it was Megan's turn to sing, she stepped to the microphone, and in a clear and lovely voice, she sang her solo with poise and confidence. I just sat and blubbered! I was so very proud of my child and so very sad that my mother couldn't be right there to witness her very first performance!
My daughter and I have shared one love in common: music. Meg was exposed to all kinds of good music from the very beginning, and she took to it--everything from show tunes to folk music, country music, classical music. Her taste in music became ecclectic. Whenever we traveled, we played tapes in the car and sang along together.
When Meg became a show choir member in high school, I jumped in with both feet. What a joy to be able to watch such talented kids performing so professionally! I ate up every second of it, and I knew my mother would have loved it, too!
So now, we have come full circle. Megan and her husband, his parents, and her father and stepmother, spent the day at Disney World yesterday. They got to see a musical performance at Epcot Center, with three choirs and full orchestra, all Christmas songs with scriptural narration, ending with The Hallelujah Chorus. The program was called "The Candlelight Processional". When they got back to Vero Beach, she sent me some Instant Messages about the performance. Even sent me a short video of some of it. Her main comment was, "I wish you could have been here for that. I thought of you the whole time!"
I get it, Megan. I really, really do...
Monday, December 10, 2012
Friday, December 7, 2012
Pearl Harbor Baby
Today is my sister's birthday. We have come a long way since our childhood, and I am so happy that we have! I love you, Shari Andrew! I wish your life were easier right now, but we persevere!
PJ
PJ
Vacation Horror Stories
I was telling this tale to my daughter a few weeks ago and realized that I probably should write it down for the archives.
Back in the early 70s, during the big fuel shortage debacle, my husband-to-be bought a foreign car for improved gas mileage. In those days, foreign cars were most always "compact", as was this one. He purchased a Toyota Corolla hatchback station wagon. "Station wagon" sounds roomy, but this one wasn't. It was a COMPACT station wagon, and I was agog that he would buy one...but such were the times.
The Toyota was a manual transmission "stick shift". I had to learn to drive it, but learn, I did. Supposedly, that added to the fuel economy. (I just have no clue why it would.) In any case, we headed out on a two-week camping trip through the American West. The car was packed to the gills, plus we pulled a two-wheel utility trailer packed with our camping gear. Both car and trailer carried our necessary treasures: clothing, tent, sleeping bags, pillows, foam pads, plywood kitchen box, pots and pans, food, porta-potty--basically everything one would have at home. This was a deconstructed house on wheels. I'm pretty sure our gas mileage suffered from that as well as from the altitude of places we went, but we were not to be dissuaded!
We were in Colorado. I had read things about Leadville and wanted to go there. We approached on a highway from the east. In order to get to Leadville on regular roads, we would have had to drive many miles out of our way to the south and back north again. Joe, however, noted a moutain pass--Weston Pass--that could cut a lot of time and miles off the trip. He decided we should try it, in spite of signs that warned that it might not be open. I was a little skeptical but figured he knew what he was doing, so we started UP on Weston Pass.
For those of you who don't know, a "pass" in the mountains means "a way over the top". It does NOT imply a road! What we experienced was...should I say...less than a road. It was mostly dirt. At first, it was fine. We went upward and upward, with the land seeming okay and not a problem. Then, the "road" became ruts and rocks and nothing around. It could not have offered passage for a vehicle coming from the other direction, but that wasn't a problem because we saw not a single other vehicle anywhere around! Then it became steep. Ruts and rocks and steep. Yikes!
The little Toyota did the best it could, under the circumstances, but as we slowly approached the top of the pass, it labored and slugged. Joe kep downshifting. The vehicle struggled to pull the trailer, and we struggled to keep it running before it would stall out. Finally, we were in the lowest gear and praying to beat the band that the car would manage to get us over the top. It didn't look good.
My mind was racing. Perhaps we would need to unload where we were when the car eventually stalled and camp until someone found us. Unbeknownst to me, my spouse's brain was also racing, only he figured we'd need to unhook the trailer, push the car over the pass, then pull the trail over the pass by hand. Neither of us expressed our fears to each other until after the event was over.
How did it turn out? The Toyota labored and groaned and did everything it could to get over that pass...inching along (and I do mean INCHING)...we finally, FINALLY, got over the pass! No emergency measures were necessary, although I'm not sure why, to this day. We arrived in Leadville, in some of Colorado's highest mountains, only a little worse for wear. Praise be!
Back in the early 70s, during the big fuel shortage debacle, my husband-to-be bought a foreign car for improved gas mileage. In those days, foreign cars were most always "compact", as was this one. He purchased a Toyota Corolla hatchback station wagon. "Station wagon" sounds roomy, but this one wasn't. It was a COMPACT station wagon, and I was agog that he would buy one...but such were the times.
The Toyota was a manual transmission "stick shift". I had to learn to drive it, but learn, I did. Supposedly, that added to the fuel economy. (I just have no clue why it would.) In any case, we headed out on a two-week camping trip through the American West. The car was packed to the gills, plus we pulled a two-wheel utility trailer packed with our camping gear. Both car and trailer carried our necessary treasures: clothing, tent, sleeping bags, pillows, foam pads, plywood kitchen box, pots and pans, food, porta-potty--basically everything one would have at home. This was a deconstructed house on wheels. I'm pretty sure our gas mileage suffered from that as well as from the altitude of places we went, but we were not to be dissuaded!
We were in Colorado. I had read things about Leadville and wanted to go there. We approached on a highway from the east. In order to get to Leadville on regular roads, we would have had to drive many miles out of our way to the south and back north again. Joe, however, noted a moutain pass--Weston Pass--that could cut a lot of time and miles off the trip. He decided we should try it, in spite of signs that warned that it might not be open. I was a little skeptical but figured he knew what he was doing, so we started UP on Weston Pass.
For those of you who don't know, a "pass" in the mountains means "a way over the top". It does NOT imply a road! What we experienced was...should I say...less than a road. It was mostly dirt. At first, it was fine. We went upward and upward, with the land seeming okay and not a problem. Then, the "road" became ruts and rocks and nothing around. It could not have offered passage for a vehicle coming from the other direction, but that wasn't a problem because we saw not a single other vehicle anywhere around! Then it became steep. Ruts and rocks and steep. Yikes!
The little Toyota did the best it could, under the circumstances, but as we slowly approached the top of the pass, it labored and slugged. Joe kep downshifting. The vehicle struggled to pull the trailer, and we struggled to keep it running before it would stall out. Finally, we were in the lowest gear and praying to beat the band that the car would manage to get us over the top. It didn't look good.
My mind was racing. Perhaps we would need to unload where we were when the car eventually stalled and camp until someone found us. Unbeknownst to me, my spouse's brain was also racing, only he figured we'd need to unhook the trailer, push the car over the pass, then pull the trail over the pass by hand. Neither of us expressed our fears to each other until after the event was over.
How did it turn out? The Toyota labored and groaned and did everything it could to get over that pass...inching along (and I do mean INCHING)...we finally, FINALLY, got over the pass! No emergency measures were necessary, although I'm not sure why, to this day. We arrived in Leadville, in some of Colorado's highest mountains, only a little worse for wear. Praise be!
Wednesday, December 5, 2012
Other Obsolete Customs
To add to my list of obsolete customs that I posted the other day, let's include:
Thank You Notes.
I hate it, but we've come to this. Once upon a time, it was considered not merely polite but necessary to write a note of thanks to someone who gave you a gift. Of course, if the giver were present, all that was necessary was to give a heartfelt verbal message, but if the gift was opened away from the giver, a note was required. Why? Because someone cared enough about you to go to the trouble of buying and sending you a gift, however small. The LEAST you can do is acknowledge that the gift was received and appreciated. And, if not appreciated, a simple "Thank you for thinking of me" would work. Parents used to plunk their children down at a table with notecards and make them write thank you notes to benefactors. Unfortunately, the custom is fading out with my generation. A few years ago, I spent a couple of hundred dollars on a wedding gift for the child of a dear friend of mine. I heard not a word thereafter. Look--I don't give gifts for the thanks and undying gratitude, but I do think it's a shame that people forget to do this and that we have raised a generation of people who think it isn't necessary!
The Bedroom Chair.
I didn't experience this nor figure it out until I was an adult, but it used to be customary to have a chair in each bedroom for people to sit on as they were dressing...so they wouldn't sit on the bed and break down the corners of the mattress! Beds now are just so much furniture. Oh well!
More as I think about it...
Thank You Notes.
I hate it, but we've come to this. Once upon a time, it was considered not merely polite but necessary to write a note of thanks to someone who gave you a gift. Of course, if the giver were present, all that was necessary was to give a heartfelt verbal message, but if the gift was opened away from the giver, a note was required. Why? Because someone cared enough about you to go to the trouble of buying and sending you a gift, however small. The LEAST you can do is acknowledge that the gift was received and appreciated. And, if not appreciated, a simple "Thank you for thinking of me" would work. Parents used to plunk their children down at a table with notecards and make them write thank you notes to benefactors. Unfortunately, the custom is fading out with my generation. A few years ago, I spent a couple of hundred dollars on a wedding gift for the child of a dear friend of mine. I heard not a word thereafter. Look--I don't give gifts for the thanks and undying gratitude, but I do think it's a shame that people forget to do this and that we have raised a generation of people who think it isn't necessary!
The Bedroom Chair.
I didn't experience this nor figure it out until I was an adult, but it used to be customary to have a chair in each bedroom for people to sit on as they were dressing...so they wouldn't sit on the bed and break down the corners of the mattress! Beds now are just so much furniture. Oh well!
More as I think about it...
Tuesday, December 4, 2012
WHY Do I Cry So Much????
Music does it, dammit.
Yesterday in church, we were singing "Angels We Have Heard On High". This is not a new song, or even an emotional one...but who sat in one of the front pews, singing her heart out with tears streaming down her face? This gal!
Tonight, PBS is airing stuff about Rogers and Hammerstein. They were playing a clip of "The King and I"...and here I sat, weeping. Why?????? I wish I knew!
Music is the only thing that always moves me to tears. Well...uh...except for things that relate to my grandchildren.
This isn't going to go away, so I pray that anyone who sees me in public during these performances will forgive my weaknesses. :)
Yesterday in church, we were singing "Angels We Have Heard On High". This is not a new song, or even an emotional one...but who sat in one of the front pews, singing her heart out with tears streaming down her face? This gal!
Tonight, PBS is airing stuff about Rogers and Hammerstein. They were playing a clip of "The King and I"...and here I sat, weeping. Why?????? I wish I knew!
Music is the only thing that always moves me to tears. Well...uh...except for things that relate to my grandchildren.
This isn't going to go away, so I pray that anyone who sees me in public during these performances will forgive my weaknesses. :)
Obsolete?
I have recently been thinking about things that used to be done in polite society, but are no longer. At least not consistently. This isn't a complete list. Feel free to add more!
Hostess Gift.
Once upon a time, when someone went to visit another overnight, it was customary to take a gift for the hostess. It didn't have to be much...just a token of thanks for the hospitality. I don't think this is done anymore. Too bad! It was a nice custom.
Hankerchiefs.
Back when my parents were alive, if I happened to put on my mother's duster or my father's jacket, there was always, always a tissue in the pocket. I used to laugh about that, but I understand it now. My nose runs constantly. My car, my pockets, my house all have tissues everywhere. Don't remember my parents complaining about the nose thing, but they sure had the tissues! In my parents' generation, men carried handkerchiefs in their pockets. When Dad dressed, he put his wallet in his pocket, then his change from the dresser, then a clean hankie. In fact, hankies were always on the list for Christmas and/or Father's Day presents. When Kleenex tissues came along, more sanitary, etc., I think the notion of carrying a hankie became obsolete. But for those of you who read this blog and know I am a huge Dr. Phil fan, it always touches me when he has a weeping guest, reaches into his pocket, and produces a handkerchief for him/her to cry in. I love this.
Aprons.
Back in the days when laundry was only done once a week, protecting clothing was a big deal. I had play clothes and school clothes back then. When I got home from school, I was to change into play clothes and play shoes. I didn't see the reason for that. My mother did. She and my grandmother always wore aprons when cooking. Mom had a "duster" that she wore to protect her clothes from grease and other splatters. (Nowadays, we just use stain-spotters and throw the stuff in the laundry. Oh, how things have changed!) I don't own an apron. If I splash on my clothes, I just make sure they are pre-treated and throw them in the laundry. Thanksgiving is an example of that. I was pulling meat off the turkey carcass when a piece jerked off the bone and splashed grease all over my shirt. After laundry, the shirt is back to normal. :)
Social Courtesies.
Oh yeah! This is going to sound a bit sexist, but it is what it is. These days, it seems to be "anything goes" for language and other rights of free speech, etc. Still, it should be about respect. I don't need someone to open the door for me. All I want is for people to respect each other enough to love them for what they are. Nothing is ever what it seems. I cut someone off on the road 33 years ago. I didn't do it on purpose, but because my then-husband gave the other driver "the finger" from the passenger seat, we suddenly became the target of road rage. It got scary. Had the other driver been in the car, he would have understood. He wasn't. Is it no longer fashionable to give another person a break?? (My ex sure didn't help things.)
I am so thankful for all that I'm given. I live in the Transition Generation...between the Greatest Generation and the Me's. I've been around long enough to see how things have changed from my mother's struggles to keep a house together to the digital age. God bless those who have gone before. They paved the way for the rest of us to have it so easy!!
Hostess Gift.
Once upon a time, when someone went to visit another overnight, it was customary to take a gift for the hostess. It didn't have to be much...just a token of thanks for the hospitality. I don't think this is done anymore. Too bad! It was a nice custom.
Hankerchiefs.
Back when my parents were alive, if I happened to put on my mother's duster or my father's jacket, there was always, always a tissue in the pocket. I used to laugh about that, but I understand it now. My nose runs constantly. My car, my pockets, my house all have tissues everywhere. Don't remember my parents complaining about the nose thing, but they sure had the tissues! In my parents' generation, men carried handkerchiefs in their pockets. When Dad dressed, he put his wallet in his pocket, then his change from the dresser, then a clean hankie. In fact, hankies were always on the list for Christmas and/or Father's Day presents. When Kleenex tissues came along, more sanitary, etc., I think the notion of carrying a hankie became obsolete. But for those of you who read this blog and know I am a huge Dr. Phil fan, it always touches me when he has a weeping guest, reaches into his pocket, and produces a handkerchief for him/her to cry in. I love this.
Aprons.
Back in the days when laundry was only done once a week, protecting clothing was a big deal. I had play clothes and school clothes back then. When I got home from school, I was to change into play clothes and play shoes. I didn't see the reason for that. My mother did. She and my grandmother always wore aprons when cooking. Mom had a "duster" that she wore to protect her clothes from grease and other splatters. (Nowadays, we just use stain-spotters and throw the stuff in the laundry. Oh, how things have changed!) I don't own an apron. If I splash on my clothes, I just make sure they are pre-treated and throw them in the laundry. Thanksgiving is an example of that. I was pulling meat off the turkey carcass when a piece jerked off the bone and splashed grease all over my shirt. After laundry, the shirt is back to normal. :)
Social Courtesies.
Oh yeah! This is going to sound a bit sexist, but it is what it is. These days, it seems to be "anything goes" for language and other rights of free speech, etc. Still, it should be about respect. I don't need someone to open the door for me. All I want is for people to respect each other enough to love them for what they are. Nothing is ever what it seems. I cut someone off on the road 33 years ago. I didn't do it on purpose, but because my then-husband gave the other driver "the finger" from the passenger seat, we suddenly became the target of road rage. It got scary. Had the other driver been in the car, he would have understood. He wasn't. Is it no longer fashionable to give another person a break?? (My ex sure didn't help things.)
I am so thankful for all that I'm given. I live in the Transition Generation...between the Greatest Generation and the Me's. I've been around long enough to see how things have changed from my mother's struggles to keep a house together to the digital age. God bless those who have gone before. They paved the way for the rest of us to have it so easy!!
Monday, December 3, 2012
I Should Be Christmas Shopping...But...
I mentioned in my last post that I will be hosting the Russian in-laws for a few days. That caused me to turn a jaded eye on my house. Not a good thing! I have created a list of things that have needed to be done for a number of years, but now that I have a willing helper (see last post), maybe they will get done. We were supposed to start today. Unfortunately, my helper was up all night not feeling well, so we will plan for another start date.
I went out yesterday to purchase supplies for house-fixing. Had to go to my bank up on Rockville Road, so I went to Lowe's, just a couple of blocks down. I had quite a long list but aced out on everything! I came home, took a couple of measurements, and headed back out for Menard's in Camby. Got everything on my list there, except for bread and aspirin, but it took awhile. I was all over that store several times. I have to say that Lowe's has more customer service than Menard's, but Menard's seems to have a bigger selection of products. I spent about $70 with more to come (when I should be Christmas shopping) but I just look forward to having some things done!
Okay...so I understand that just having a clean and painted house is only cosmetic, but I also understand that if I were to try to sell this place right now, I would have to take less than it's worth because it needs so much help!! I won't be giving it up anytime soon, unless my health goes south. So many people live better than I...but ya know...it's all I need. (I did splurge and buy a lottery/powerball ticket last week. I gave in to the hype. Sue me!)
I've been cat-sitting for the past two weeks. Toffee has decided that I'm okay since I am the only other living thing in the house besides the house plant which has been put in the closet to save it from her... (It WAS on top of a high bookcase, but there is no place in the house that the cat can't go.) Megan worries that I will alienate the feline from her. Ha! This is a smart cat. She knows how to work all the angles. Her favorite place in the house to be is on Ryan's loft bed. I have no clue how she gets up there, but the only way down (in her estimation) is the Hail-Mary jump from the top. All is well. She will survive her stay at Grandma's. The question is, will Grandma survive??
I went out yesterday to purchase supplies for house-fixing. Had to go to my bank up on Rockville Road, so I went to Lowe's, just a couple of blocks down. I had quite a long list but aced out on everything! I came home, took a couple of measurements, and headed back out for Menard's in Camby. Got everything on my list there, except for bread and aspirin, but it took awhile. I was all over that store several times. I have to say that Lowe's has more customer service than Menard's, but Menard's seems to have a bigger selection of products. I spent about $70 with more to come (when I should be Christmas shopping) but I just look forward to having some things done!
Okay...so I understand that just having a clean and painted house is only cosmetic, but I also understand that if I were to try to sell this place right now, I would have to take less than it's worth because it needs so much help!! I won't be giving it up anytime soon, unless my health goes south. So many people live better than I...but ya know...it's all I need. (I did splurge and buy a lottery/powerball ticket last week. I gave in to the hype. Sue me!)
I've been cat-sitting for the past two weeks. Toffee has decided that I'm okay since I am the only other living thing in the house besides the house plant which has been put in the closet to save it from her... (It WAS on top of a high bookcase, but there is no place in the house that the cat can't go.) Megan worries that I will alienate the feline from her. Ha! This is a smart cat. She knows how to work all the angles. Her favorite place in the house to be is on Ryan's loft bed. I have no clue how she gets up there, but the only way down (in her estimation) is the Hail-Mary jump from the top. All is well. She will survive her stay at Grandma's. The question is, will Grandma survive??