Every once in awhile, I sit down and go through blog posts from the past. Every stinkin' time, I find typos, grammatical errors, and stuff that just drives an old English teacher nuts. In my last post, I said that a bag on my patio was full of condensated water. Condensated? Huh??? I should have said "condensed" but I was thinking the word "condensate" at the time, so guess what my fingers typed? I usually don't go back and correct that stuff, although I can. Unless it just makes me look like a total idiot, I let it ride. Hey...I'm too busy in The Slow Lane to be bothered, but you'd better bet that red pen in my brain is constantly at work.
Okay...so, just as I need an editor for my blogs, I need an editor in my life. On Monday of this week, I ate out of control. Actually, I was trying to use up food leftovers so I wouldn't waste things, but the upshot was that I ate mucho carbohydrates and fats and...well...let's just say that I didn't consume anything that was particularly healthy. And guess what one of my main complaints in life is? I'm too fat. (Duh!) It affects everything I feel about myself. Eating out of control is not just Monday's event. It has been going on for years, but since I no longer get ANY exercise, the only outcome I can expect is to get fatter and more infirm. Thus, on Tuesday morning, I weighed myself and decided that I was just going to have to take control and make better choices.
Here I am, three days later and four pounds thinner. I'm encouraged, but I'm also aware that I am on a tightrope, walking a line that could jiggle and throw me off at any given moment. AND, four pounds is a mere drop in the bucket. Couple that with the fact that I just like to eat, and I can be undermined by myself in a tiny weak moment.
In the last three days, sometimes I just have to go to bed because I think I should be done eating but a lot of the day is left. My Editor-in-Chief gives me strength, but even He can't stop my hands from reaching for things I shouldn't eat. God helps those that help themselves, right? (BTW--Benjamin Franklin said that...NOT the Bible.)
Just for today, I'm hanging in there. Just for today, I'm trying to keep my perspective and focus on goals. Just for today, I want things to be different, so I have to do different things. Please pray for me, just for today. Bring me an editor!
Friday, April 12, 2013
Tuesday, April 9, 2013
Weeping...
I'm going to cry as I write this, which is why it is fitting that I write about it.
I've never been a "crier". In other posts, I've already covered how I can't get through church without weeping at least once these days--usually caused by the music--and it has made me wonder how/why I do now when I never used to.
Looking back at my life, I realize that weeping wasn't really acceptable to my mother or grandmother. (I've written about that, too. I think they lived in fear that if they gave in to those kinds of emotions in moments of stress, they would fall apart, yet didn't have the luxury to do that.) When I was very young--like 4 or 5--I would cry every time I threw up. My mother would complain, "What are you crying for??" And once, I managed to clonk myself on the nose with a wire hanger and my nose bled. (That was the only real nose-bleed I ever really had, btw.) I cried, and again I was asked why. Well...I was scared. Doesn't everyone cry when they're scared?? And then, of course, there was the mom-ism: "If you don't stop crying, I'll give you something to cry about!" I got the message. Crying was to be reserved for moments of great grief/pain...not little annoyances.
The one valuable thing I learned from that was that crying changes nothing. Weep all you want, but when the weeping is done, the problems that caused it are still there to be dealt with. For many, many years, I just chose to skip the weeping part and move on to "What do I need to do now??" It has been a blessing...and a curse. I think it has made me look hard-boiled and uncaring when nothing could be further from the truth.
When my baby was born, I fell in love. I rocked her and sang to her and tended to her. Then, slowly, I began to realize that I was the only parent she had. Her father was on his own selfish track in life. I did everything I could to make up for her not having the father that I had hoped she'd have...and that made me all the harder in appearances. I covered up my loneliness. I made every holiday tradition seem glorious even though it wasn't. When her father and I split up, I did that all the more. I wasn't happy, but I didn't cry where anyone could see me. Ugh!
Many years later, my grandbabies were born. When Nathan and Megan sat in my living room and told me they were expecting, my first thoughts were of doom. Holy cow! Two weeks ago, they told me they didn't want to have kids! They are too young! They are practically newlyweds...need to establish themselves better before they have children! And then, before the conversation even ended, I was rolling up my sleeves to determine what "we" needed to do next. Robin arrived, followed by Ryan just 15 months later. They changed everything. The new focus of my life was those children. OMG, how I love them! They had me wrapped around their fingers! (Still do!)
Then, one day, Meg and Nate's marriage deteriorated. Megan and the children came to live with me, without prior notice. My focus changed again to provide space for us all. Megan took over and did her thing...and, in time, our circumstances got better. We had some rough spots, but we were working together to make things work. And then the bottom fell out.
Megan fell in love with her now-husband. She gave custody of the children to their father in a surprise move that left me reeling so she could follow him to California for his job. It wasn't handled well. I felt bad enough but felt horrible for my grandchildren who didn't have a clue what had hit them. Somehow, it was all to be my fault. Without a doubt, this was the worst time of my life--beyond my mother's death--beyond my ugly divorce. And THIS is where the crying started with me. The facade, the paper-thin veneer of strength, is only good as long as everything is going well. Cry? I have wept a river...and still can in any given situation.
Which is what brings me to what caused me to write on this topic today. There is a commercial on TV that I think is a plea for funds for a children's hospital. It shows children with cancer, looking pale and pathetic, and the music...oh, the music...is a wordless lullabye. It reminds me of the lullabye in the movie "Dumbo" as the mother elephant rocks her baby outside of the train car where she is unfairly imprisoned...so near, yet so far. I can't take it! I hit the "mute" button on the remote as soon as I hear the first strains, but it doesn't stop the tears. I think of my grandchildren. I think of my daughter. I think of me. And the only one in the whole equation that seems unworthy of being hugged and loved is me because I am old and infirm. I can't ask for love. I don't know how. Probably wouldn't know what to do with it if I had it. So what do I do now? I cry!
Megan and I were talking about loneliness today. I'm not lonely. I have a life and things to do that keep me going, but I sure wish they would take the commercial off the TV. For the first time in my existence, I have roots in Plainfield. I just wish the rest of the world would conform to my little picture of how things should be.
I think I finally understand how my mother-in-law---a hard-boiled soul, for sure--could weep for a few seconds in the midst of a normal conversation about things that happened a zillion years ago. I think I'm beginning to understand...
I've never been a "crier". In other posts, I've already covered how I can't get through church without weeping at least once these days--usually caused by the music--and it has made me wonder how/why I do now when I never used to.
Looking back at my life, I realize that weeping wasn't really acceptable to my mother or grandmother. (I've written about that, too. I think they lived in fear that if they gave in to those kinds of emotions in moments of stress, they would fall apart, yet didn't have the luxury to do that.) When I was very young--like 4 or 5--I would cry every time I threw up. My mother would complain, "What are you crying for??" And once, I managed to clonk myself on the nose with a wire hanger and my nose bled. (That was the only real nose-bleed I ever really had, btw.) I cried, and again I was asked why. Well...I was scared. Doesn't everyone cry when they're scared?? And then, of course, there was the mom-ism: "If you don't stop crying, I'll give you something to cry about!" I got the message. Crying was to be reserved for moments of great grief/pain...not little annoyances.
The one valuable thing I learned from that was that crying changes nothing. Weep all you want, but when the weeping is done, the problems that caused it are still there to be dealt with. For many, many years, I just chose to skip the weeping part and move on to "What do I need to do now??" It has been a blessing...and a curse. I think it has made me look hard-boiled and uncaring when nothing could be further from the truth.
When my baby was born, I fell in love. I rocked her and sang to her and tended to her. Then, slowly, I began to realize that I was the only parent she had. Her father was on his own selfish track in life. I did everything I could to make up for her not having the father that I had hoped she'd have...and that made me all the harder in appearances. I covered up my loneliness. I made every holiday tradition seem glorious even though it wasn't. When her father and I split up, I did that all the more. I wasn't happy, but I didn't cry where anyone could see me. Ugh!
Many years later, my grandbabies were born. When Nathan and Megan sat in my living room and told me they were expecting, my first thoughts were of doom. Holy cow! Two weeks ago, they told me they didn't want to have kids! They are too young! They are practically newlyweds...need to establish themselves better before they have children! And then, before the conversation even ended, I was rolling up my sleeves to determine what "we" needed to do next. Robin arrived, followed by Ryan just 15 months later. They changed everything. The new focus of my life was those children. OMG, how I love them! They had me wrapped around their fingers! (Still do!)
Then, one day, Meg and Nate's marriage deteriorated. Megan and the children came to live with me, without prior notice. My focus changed again to provide space for us all. Megan took over and did her thing...and, in time, our circumstances got better. We had some rough spots, but we were working together to make things work. And then the bottom fell out.
Megan fell in love with her now-husband. She gave custody of the children to their father in a surprise move that left me reeling so she could follow him to California for his job. It wasn't handled well. I felt bad enough but felt horrible for my grandchildren who didn't have a clue what had hit them. Somehow, it was all to be my fault. Without a doubt, this was the worst time of my life--beyond my mother's death--beyond my ugly divorce. And THIS is where the crying started with me. The facade, the paper-thin veneer of strength, is only good as long as everything is going well. Cry? I have wept a river...and still can in any given situation.
Which is what brings me to what caused me to write on this topic today. There is a commercial on TV that I think is a plea for funds for a children's hospital. It shows children with cancer, looking pale and pathetic, and the music...oh, the music...is a wordless lullabye. It reminds me of the lullabye in the movie "Dumbo" as the mother elephant rocks her baby outside of the train car where she is unfairly imprisoned...so near, yet so far. I can't take it! I hit the "mute" button on the remote as soon as I hear the first strains, but it doesn't stop the tears. I think of my grandchildren. I think of my daughter. I think of me. And the only one in the whole equation that seems unworthy of being hugged and loved is me because I am old and infirm. I can't ask for love. I don't know how. Probably wouldn't know what to do with it if I had it. So what do I do now? I cry!
Megan and I were talking about loneliness today. I'm not lonely. I have a life and things to do that keep me going, but I sure wish they would take the commercial off the TV. For the first time in my existence, I have roots in Plainfield. I just wish the rest of the world would conform to my little picture of how things should be.
I think I finally understand how my mother-in-law---a hard-boiled soul, for sure--could weep for a few seconds in the midst of a normal conversation about things that happened a zillion years ago. I think I'm beginning to understand...
Saturday, April 6, 2013
Baby Steps
In tiny increments--baby steps--spring is returning to Indiana. It is 70 degrees outside right now, and the sun is shining. The grass, such as is left of it after last summer's drought, is greening. The perennials are coming up--although they've been TRYING to come up for a month.
Also in baby steps, I am getting the house back to the normal condition of messiness that it was before the family was here. The towels have all been washed, folded, and put away. I have clean sheets on my bed. I have swept up the cat litter. Cleaned out the refrigerator of foods that should have been eaten but weren't. (I tried!) I mailed Ryan's soccer Easter bunny that he accidentally left behind, and have found some pictures of my late former stepson that I need to mail to his wife.
And, as is my yearly quest, I have purchased a couple of patio table covers, which means (I hope) that I will actually get the patio livable for the first time in many years. Woo-hoo!
But you know what I consider a happenstance victory?? I had two baby things in a plastic blanket bag that had somehow found its way to the patio. One is a flower thingie that my grandmother made for a cousin's baby...a wrap, of sorts. It's made of yarn in semi-crocheted flowers--not even really safe for a baby because there are too many ways for finger and toes to get trapped and strangled--but my Baba made it. (She passed on in 1975.) The other was the one remaining receiving blanket that my mother made for my baby Megan. Okay...so both of these treasures were in a pastic bag out on the patio. (Don't ask why. I don't know!) For months, I have looked at that bag that had big drops of condensated water on the inside, thinking that it surely must be full of mold and mildew. The outside of the bag was filthy with yard dirt. I just put off doing anything with it, fearing the worst. Yesterday, I took the bull by the horns and opened the bag. Both items were predictably sopped, but there was no mildew on either, even after months of being in that condition!! I brought them in. They are dry now and will be treated better. Hallelujah!
I keep walking into Robin's room to look at it because it is now the cutest room in the house. Need to get busy to finish the furniture painting, but it still looks good. Other rooms need attention. Will get to them...in baby steps.
Also in baby steps, I am getting the house back to the normal condition of messiness that it was before the family was here. The towels have all been washed, folded, and put away. I have clean sheets on my bed. I have swept up the cat litter. Cleaned out the refrigerator of foods that should have been eaten but weren't. (I tried!) I mailed Ryan's soccer Easter bunny that he accidentally left behind, and have found some pictures of my late former stepson that I need to mail to his wife.
And, as is my yearly quest, I have purchased a couple of patio table covers, which means (I hope) that I will actually get the patio livable for the first time in many years. Woo-hoo!
But you know what I consider a happenstance victory?? I had two baby things in a plastic blanket bag that had somehow found its way to the patio. One is a flower thingie that my grandmother made for a cousin's baby...a wrap, of sorts. It's made of yarn in semi-crocheted flowers--not even really safe for a baby because there are too many ways for finger and toes to get trapped and strangled--but my Baba made it. (She passed on in 1975.) The other was the one remaining receiving blanket that my mother made for my baby Megan. Okay...so both of these treasures were in a pastic bag out on the patio. (Don't ask why. I don't know!) For months, I have looked at that bag that had big drops of condensated water on the inside, thinking that it surely must be full of mold and mildew. The outside of the bag was filthy with yard dirt. I just put off doing anything with it, fearing the worst. Yesterday, I took the bull by the horns and opened the bag. Both items were predictably sopped, but there was no mildew on either, even after months of being in that condition!! I brought them in. They are dry now and will be treated better. Hallelujah!
I keep walking into Robin's room to look at it because it is now the cutest room in the house. Need to get busy to finish the furniture painting, but it still looks good. Other rooms need attention. Will get to them...in baby steps.
Thursday, April 4, 2013
Getting There...
Take one little house-on-a-slab. Tear it up for two weeks by dragging things out of a bedroom and closet to redecorate it...then try to put it all back together and clean the rest of the house before four welcome family members plus cat (also welcome) come to spend eight days. Make the days cold and snowy so no one can play outside. Make things as comfortable as possible for everyone...and hope that they can't see the dust and cobwebs.
How to make things comfortable? Clean sheets all around. Clean towels (of which there are only six and need to be laundered every couple of days). Bring out the coffee maker and put the water distiller outside because it normally sits where the coffee maker goes. Bring the litter box in and put the distiller where the litter box is stored. Find a place to hide the blender because it takes up counter space where the additional snacks and cereals must go. Put a leaf in the table. Decorate for Easter. Swish out the toilets. Vacuum the floors. Make a feeding station for the feline. Hide the house plant because the cat likes to eat it. Try to plan and shop for meals that you know they like. Hurry, hurry, rush, rush...
Was everything done in time? No. Not even a little. Robin's room wasn't done. I still had some furniture painting to finish, and the ordered desk was delayed in getting in. The garage bedroom bed wasn't made and the room wasn't properly dusted. The house was NOT as clean as I would have liked, but I knew it wouldn't get any cleaner after they got here, so I just did what I could and begged forgiveness.
I'm not sure how my family would have rated their experience here last week, but **I** considered it a success. Robin really seemed to like her "new" bedroom. Grandson Ryan got to play with his buddy, Jack (although only once). Robin went shopping with Grandma Judy for a couple of hours. Both children went swimming twice--once with Grandma Judy and once for the Underwater Easter Egg Hunt at the Rec Center. We watched two movies at home as a family, and Grandma Judy and I took the grandkids to the theater to see "Oz, the Great and Powerful" in 3D at The Rave (now called Carmike). Megan and Denis got treated to Beef and Boards for a dinner theater in celebration of Meg's 34th birthday and M and D's third anniversary, complete with balloons, champagne, and cake. Denis and Megan took the children to the park to play a couple of times. We played Pictionary quite a few times as a family. Robin made a birthday cake for her mother. We had home made lemon bars. Made egg nests out of butterscotch chips, chow mein noodles, and little egg candies. Colored Easter eggs. Tested the frozen yogurt sundaes at Orange Leaf in Avon. Both children got their very own laptop computers from their mother/stepfather (no small expense). And we all went to church together--twice!!!
About church... Most of my life, I have attended services alone. I never forced it on my spouse or my daughter (although now I think I should have done more to draw her in). In any case, since they were all here, I specifically requested that they attend the Maundy Thursday service with me on that Thursday evening...and Easter was a given. Maundy Thursday is a somber service, in commemoration of the night that Christ had his last supper with his disciples and was betrayed to one of them to be arrrested. We were invited to leave the sanctuary in silence. Fitting. Megan said is was depressing. (It was.) BUT...Resurrection Day is a different mood. We had a brass quintet and a wonderful message/presence. Glorious!
Before the benediction, the choir and brass (with organ) were to sing "The Hallelujah Chorus", and members of the congregation were invited to come forward and join them. I knew it was coming. Had talked to Megan about it. She was reluctant. When the time came, I was going up without her (or so I thought) but Robin asked if she could go up with me. Wow! This 10-year-old child had never sung the song before. Probably had no idea how difficult it is..but was willing to put herself in front of the whole congregation to sing it, along with her Heffelman grandparents and me, to sing to the glory of God. Proud grandmother? You betcha! And I only realized an hour later that Megan has also come forward, but she was standing with the sopranos (where I should have been, although I can't sing soprano anymore). Hallelujah!
The real Easter Hero was Grandma Judy who volunteered to host Easter dinner at her house. I could have. I intended to. But as the week wore on, my house became more and more a victim of "livedness". We contributed food, but Judy and Phil supplied most of the vittles and the venue for an egg hunt and nice presents for the kiddos. The sun had come out and the temps warmed enough for a wonderful Easter day!
The family departed on Monday, later than intended. I'm just now getting around to getting things back to "normal". The coffee maker is put away so the distiller can come back and the litter box go back out. The leaf has been removed from the table. The towels have been washed. The Easter decorations have been put away. The kitchen floor has been swept. (Don't even ask about how much stuff showed up under the broom!!) Lots more still to do to get back to "normal"...but I have to say that I would rather have the chaos than the normal. Having my grandbabies here is the light of my life. It was a great week with them all here!
How to make things comfortable? Clean sheets all around. Clean towels (of which there are only six and need to be laundered every couple of days). Bring out the coffee maker and put the water distiller outside because it normally sits where the coffee maker goes. Bring the litter box in and put the distiller where the litter box is stored. Find a place to hide the blender because it takes up counter space where the additional snacks and cereals must go. Put a leaf in the table. Decorate for Easter. Swish out the toilets. Vacuum the floors. Make a feeding station for the feline. Hide the house plant because the cat likes to eat it. Try to plan and shop for meals that you know they like. Hurry, hurry, rush, rush...
Was everything done in time? No. Not even a little. Robin's room wasn't done. I still had some furniture painting to finish, and the ordered desk was delayed in getting in. The garage bedroom bed wasn't made and the room wasn't properly dusted. The house was NOT as clean as I would have liked, but I knew it wouldn't get any cleaner after they got here, so I just did what I could and begged forgiveness.
I'm not sure how my family would have rated their experience here last week, but **I** considered it a success. Robin really seemed to like her "new" bedroom. Grandson Ryan got to play with his buddy, Jack (although only once). Robin went shopping with Grandma Judy for a couple of hours. Both children went swimming twice--once with Grandma Judy and once for the Underwater Easter Egg Hunt at the Rec Center. We watched two movies at home as a family, and Grandma Judy and I took the grandkids to the theater to see "Oz, the Great and Powerful" in 3D at The Rave (now called Carmike). Megan and Denis got treated to Beef and Boards for a dinner theater in celebration of Meg's 34th birthday and M and D's third anniversary, complete with balloons, champagne, and cake. Denis and Megan took the children to the park to play a couple of times. We played Pictionary quite a few times as a family. Robin made a birthday cake for her mother. We had home made lemon bars. Made egg nests out of butterscotch chips, chow mein noodles, and little egg candies. Colored Easter eggs. Tested the frozen yogurt sundaes at Orange Leaf in Avon. Both children got their very own laptop computers from their mother/stepfather (no small expense). And we all went to church together--twice!!!
About church... Most of my life, I have attended services alone. I never forced it on my spouse or my daughter (although now I think I should have done more to draw her in). In any case, since they were all here, I specifically requested that they attend the Maundy Thursday service with me on that Thursday evening...and Easter was a given. Maundy Thursday is a somber service, in commemoration of the night that Christ had his last supper with his disciples and was betrayed to one of them to be arrrested. We were invited to leave the sanctuary in silence. Fitting. Megan said is was depressing. (It was.) BUT...Resurrection Day is a different mood. We had a brass quintet and a wonderful message/presence. Glorious!
Before the benediction, the choir and brass (with organ) were to sing "The Hallelujah Chorus", and members of the congregation were invited to come forward and join them. I knew it was coming. Had talked to Megan about it. She was reluctant. When the time came, I was going up without her (or so I thought) but Robin asked if she could go up with me. Wow! This 10-year-old child had never sung the song before. Probably had no idea how difficult it is..but was willing to put herself in front of the whole congregation to sing it, along with her Heffelman grandparents and me, to sing to the glory of God. Proud grandmother? You betcha! And I only realized an hour later that Megan has also come forward, but she was standing with the sopranos (where I should have been, although I can't sing soprano anymore). Hallelujah!
The real Easter Hero was Grandma Judy who volunteered to host Easter dinner at her house. I could have. I intended to. But as the week wore on, my house became more and more a victim of "livedness". We contributed food, but Judy and Phil supplied most of the vittles and the venue for an egg hunt and nice presents for the kiddos. The sun had come out and the temps warmed enough for a wonderful Easter day!
The family departed on Monday, later than intended. I'm just now getting around to getting things back to "normal". The coffee maker is put away so the distiller can come back and the litter box go back out. The leaf has been removed from the table. The towels have been washed. The Easter decorations have been put away. The kitchen floor has been swept. (Don't even ask about how much stuff showed up under the broom!!) Lots more still to do to get back to "normal"...but I have to say that I would rather have the chaos than the normal. Having my grandbabies here is the light of my life. It was a great week with them all here!
Tuesday, March 19, 2013
The Bean's Room
If you know anything about my house, you know that it is small. Years ago, when my daughter and grandchildren moved in, there were only two usable bedrooms with four of us needing a place to sleep. (The third bedroom, tiny, was my computer/radio room.) For a year, my granddaughter slept with me in my queen-sized water bed, and my grandson slept with his mother in a double bed in what once was Megan's room. I was still teaching at the time. Sleep was one of those elusive-but-necessary things. So...with financial help from Meg, we remodeled the garage into a Grandma room--bedroom/computer/radio room. We didn't really miss the garage because it hadn't been used for years due to too much junk being stored in it, but it sure was nice to have a room for each of us. I moved into the garage; Megan moved into my old bedroom; Robin moved into what was once Meg's room; Ryan got the tiny room with the help of a loft bed.
Megan and I, with a lot of help from friend Ryan Holly, spent three weeks and a bunch of money stripping wallpaper, painting walls, and generally repairing and redecorating to make nice spaces for everyone. Robin's walls were pink--her request--with lots of little girl things. Even though hers was the biggest of the two kid rooms, it seemed to have the least usable space because there was more in it. Years of collecting itty-bitty little toy things took a toll. The kids are only here for occasional visits now, but Robin's room never seemed to get clean, even after a visit. Thus, since they are coming here for spring break in a week, I took a jaded eye to the room. I felt like I needed to go through it, to sort through all of the little girl stuff to make room for the young lady that now will inhabit it. What started out as a cleaning project rapidly became a redecorating project. Why do I do these things to myself???
The furniture in Bean's room ("Bean" is Robin), was brand new when Meg was in 7th grade. Loved it! It was so pretty...but it was cheap. When Meg got married, it graduated to be Robin's furniture in Muncie. Unfortunately, Robin (and company) in her young years was "marker hungry" and marked it up horribly. Plus, a couple of the wooden drawer knobs were broken. It just looked awful, but Robin was using it. When they moved back in with me, the furniture came back, much worse for wear...yet we had no choice but to use it. Actually, there still is no choice. I don't have the money to replace the furniture, but I do have the money to paint it. (I'm not really into painted furniture because I don't think it holds up. This is a cosmetic fix that SHOULD work for an occasional visitor, right?)
Okay...so I enlisted the help of a veritable worker bee, James, who is the husband of a former student. James has a big heart and a tremendous work ethic. And time. He has lots of time. Thus, James has painted the walls in the Bean's room...and has shampooed the carpets. He will be over to help put the bedroom back together when I get done painting the furniture. I have a vision for the way I want the room to look.
How DO I want the room to look? It has lavendar walls. The furniture will be rearranged. There will be white priscilla curtains (on order) on both windows. There will be a white desk (also on order) and a white task chair which her parents have purchased and will bring. The bed frame, night stand, book shelves, and dresser will all be painted white. I will put a white mock-down comforter on the bed to replace the little girl polka dot bedspread, and along the top of the bed will be a hot-pink body pillow. I have purchased a little throw rug to draw in more colors. Have purchased a clock radio/iPod docking station for next to the bed, a desk lamp, and have cleaned out a LOT of the little girl crap in favor of the 'tween stuff that Robin loves. The thing that I think will actually make the room is a set of five square canvases with one letter of Robin's name per canvas, in imitation of a quilted wall hanging that Megan made for Robin when she was just a tot. (Don't know what happened to that! Robin learned to spell her name by looking at that hanging, and I'm really sorry it has been trashed...or whatever happened to it.)
In short, I have spent WAY too much money on this bedroom, BUT I consider that it will be a nice guest room for a single guest when Robin isn't here. Method to my madness. (The only sleeping quarters for a couple is in the garage room where I no longer sleep.) I just hope it all comes together in time to be a nice "reveal" for the Bean on Saturday when they get here.
I live in this little house-on-a-slab. If I can brighten a corner, what else do I have to spend my money on???
Megan and I, with a lot of help from friend Ryan Holly, spent three weeks and a bunch of money stripping wallpaper, painting walls, and generally repairing and redecorating to make nice spaces for everyone. Robin's walls were pink--her request--with lots of little girl things. Even though hers was the biggest of the two kid rooms, it seemed to have the least usable space because there was more in it. Years of collecting itty-bitty little toy things took a toll. The kids are only here for occasional visits now, but Robin's room never seemed to get clean, even after a visit. Thus, since they are coming here for spring break in a week, I took a jaded eye to the room. I felt like I needed to go through it, to sort through all of the little girl stuff to make room for the young lady that now will inhabit it. What started out as a cleaning project rapidly became a redecorating project. Why do I do these things to myself???
The furniture in Bean's room ("Bean" is Robin), was brand new when Meg was in 7th grade. Loved it! It was so pretty...but it was cheap. When Meg got married, it graduated to be Robin's furniture in Muncie. Unfortunately, Robin (and company) in her young years was "marker hungry" and marked it up horribly. Plus, a couple of the wooden drawer knobs were broken. It just looked awful, but Robin was using it. When they moved back in with me, the furniture came back, much worse for wear...yet we had no choice but to use it. Actually, there still is no choice. I don't have the money to replace the furniture, but I do have the money to paint it. (I'm not really into painted furniture because I don't think it holds up. This is a cosmetic fix that SHOULD work for an occasional visitor, right?)
Okay...so I enlisted the help of a veritable worker bee, James, who is the husband of a former student. James has a big heart and a tremendous work ethic. And time. He has lots of time. Thus, James has painted the walls in the Bean's room...and has shampooed the carpets. He will be over to help put the bedroom back together when I get done painting the furniture. I have a vision for the way I want the room to look.
How DO I want the room to look? It has lavendar walls. The furniture will be rearranged. There will be white priscilla curtains (on order) on both windows. There will be a white desk (also on order) and a white task chair which her parents have purchased and will bring. The bed frame, night stand, book shelves, and dresser will all be painted white. I will put a white mock-down comforter on the bed to replace the little girl polka dot bedspread, and along the top of the bed will be a hot-pink body pillow. I have purchased a little throw rug to draw in more colors. Have purchased a clock radio/iPod docking station for next to the bed, a desk lamp, and have cleaned out a LOT of the little girl crap in favor of the 'tween stuff that Robin loves. The thing that I think will actually make the room is a set of five square canvases with one letter of Robin's name per canvas, in imitation of a quilted wall hanging that Megan made for Robin when she was just a tot. (Don't know what happened to that! Robin learned to spell her name by looking at that hanging, and I'm really sorry it has been trashed...or whatever happened to it.)
In short, I have spent WAY too much money on this bedroom, BUT I consider that it will be a nice guest room for a single guest when Robin isn't here. Method to my madness. (The only sleeping quarters for a couple is in the garage room where I no longer sleep.) I just hope it all comes together in time to be a nice "reveal" for the Bean on Saturday when they get here.
I live in this little house-on-a-slab. If I can brighten a corner, what else do I have to spend my money on???
Tuesday, March 12, 2013
Gimme a Cup o' What??
This is going to seem like a strange post. (I'm not bored. Really!)
I'm not a coffee drinker. Never have been. I don't think I've had a whole cup of coffee in my entire life, although I've tried--just to be sociable. I like the smell of the stuff because it reminds me of my parents and home, but I sure don't like the taste. Still, I try to be accommodating to my dinner guests who DO like coffee. I own a coffee maker which I drag down from the cupboard a couple of times a year when planning special dinners. And I do keep coffee in the house. (Usually in the freezer where, I'm told, it will stay fresher.) The problem is that I don't know a good cup of coffee when I taste one, so I generally ask my more familiar guests to make a pot to their own specifications. Not sure if that works or not, but no one complains. (I notice that if I keep a bottle of Irish Cream Whiskey near the coffee pot, both coffee and Irish Cream get consumed faster than if I don't.)
I'm also aware that everyone's taste in coffee is different. My parents liked strong coffee. My sister's concoction was always weaker. My parents had a dishware pattern that included a leaf at the bottom of the coffee cups. If Shari were there, Dad could see the leaf at the bottom; otherwise, the leaf was invisible. I think my biggest coffee laugh came one morning when the whole family was together. My dad looked into his coffee cup and said, in his best Art Carney voice, "Hellooo, leaf!" No question about who had made the coffee!
Every serious coffee drinker I've ever known prefers a mug to a cup-and-saucer. Still, every dishware set that comes in boxes includes cups and saucers for the place settings. Service for 8? Eight cups and saucers. Service for 12? Twelve cups and saucers. I have two sets of dishes. My good china (99-piece service for 12) and my everyday dishes (service for 8). Thus, I have all kinds of cups and saucers that almost never get used! Know when they do get used? Once a year at Easter when we are dying Easter eggs! I guess that validates their existence.
When I taught elementary school, every Christmas netted me at least two mugs from admiring students. "World's Best Teacher." "If You Can Read This, Thank a Teacher." That kind of thing. At one time, my cupboard was full-to-overflowing with mugs that didn't get used because of my inability to stomach much more than hot chocolate. When Meg and the grandchildren moved in with me way back when, I weeded out the mugs and sent most of them to Goodwill in order to make room for sippie cups. (Hey...have to have priorities!) One that I saved was the one that my mother gave me when my husband and I were expecting our daughter. It showed a mommy owl and a daddy owl on a branch, with a baby owl next to them. The caption read "Congratulations." I gave it to my daughter when she was expecting her firstborn. My heart broke when the cup finally did, as things do. It was just a cup, for Pete's sake. (Who's Pete, by the way??) But I think I kept at least four mugs. (Still also have the stash of sippie cups. We use them with straws now, but it does help keep down on living room spills....)
You know what's really goofy about all of this? I usually keep a stack of white foam cups near the sink, and everyone just grabs those for their hot drinks of choice. So what's the point of having mugs or cups-and-saucers?
I'm not a coffee drinker. Never have been. I don't think I've had a whole cup of coffee in my entire life, although I've tried--just to be sociable. I like the smell of the stuff because it reminds me of my parents and home, but I sure don't like the taste. Still, I try to be accommodating to my dinner guests who DO like coffee. I own a coffee maker which I drag down from the cupboard a couple of times a year when planning special dinners. And I do keep coffee in the house. (Usually in the freezer where, I'm told, it will stay fresher.) The problem is that I don't know a good cup of coffee when I taste one, so I generally ask my more familiar guests to make a pot to their own specifications. Not sure if that works or not, but no one complains. (I notice that if I keep a bottle of Irish Cream Whiskey near the coffee pot, both coffee and Irish Cream get consumed faster than if I don't.)
I'm also aware that everyone's taste in coffee is different. My parents liked strong coffee. My sister's concoction was always weaker. My parents had a dishware pattern that included a leaf at the bottom of the coffee cups. If Shari were there, Dad could see the leaf at the bottom; otherwise, the leaf was invisible. I think my biggest coffee laugh came one morning when the whole family was together. My dad looked into his coffee cup and said, in his best Art Carney voice, "Hellooo, leaf!" No question about who had made the coffee!
Every serious coffee drinker I've ever known prefers a mug to a cup-and-saucer. Still, every dishware set that comes in boxes includes cups and saucers for the place settings. Service for 8? Eight cups and saucers. Service for 12? Twelve cups and saucers. I have two sets of dishes. My good china (99-piece service for 12) and my everyday dishes (service for 8). Thus, I have all kinds of cups and saucers that almost never get used! Know when they do get used? Once a year at Easter when we are dying Easter eggs! I guess that validates their existence.
When I taught elementary school, every Christmas netted me at least two mugs from admiring students. "World's Best Teacher." "If You Can Read This, Thank a Teacher." That kind of thing. At one time, my cupboard was full-to-overflowing with mugs that didn't get used because of my inability to stomach much more than hot chocolate. When Meg and the grandchildren moved in with me way back when, I weeded out the mugs and sent most of them to Goodwill in order to make room for sippie cups. (Hey...have to have priorities!) One that I saved was the one that my mother gave me when my husband and I were expecting our daughter. It showed a mommy owl and a daddy owl on a branch, with a baby owl next to them. The caption read "Congratulations." I gave it to my daughter when she was expecting her firstborn. My heart broke when the cup finally did, as things do. It was just a cup, for Pete's sake. (Who's Pete, by the way??) But I think I kept at least four mugs. (Still also have the stash of sippie cups. We use them with straws now, but it does help keep down on living room spills....)
You know what's really goofy about all of this? I usually keep a stack of white foam cups near the sink, and everyone just grabs those for their hot drinks of choice. So what's the point of having mugs or cups-and-saucers?
Wednesday, March 6, 2013
Another Day Older...
...And deeper in debt, as the song goes. So here I am, making my first blog post at age 66. I can only promise you the same old boring stuff that I have posted all along, so if you are reading this, you must love me!
My family--daughter, son-in-law, and grandchildren--arrived very late on Friday night, none the worse for wear. The children had fallen asleep in the car and so excused themselves to bed almost immediately. Meg and Denis and I stayed up just a tad longer so they could decompress. It was easily 2:30 AM Indiana time before we crashed.
Saturday, we were all late in getting up, as you might imagine. I got everyone fed brunch, then took off with the grandchildren for a shopping trip. Robin (my granddaughter) complained that she only had 100 pages left in a book she was reading, so we started out at Barnes and Noble. We went right to the service desk to ask for assistance, to save excess walking. Robin started spouting titles and authors of books she wanted, and the gal helping us found all but one. Ryan wanted a book, too...but the one he wanted he had already read. He wanted his stepfather to read it. Thus, Grandma bought all four. (They weren't cheap, but there was an added advantage that the Avon Schools were getting a share of whatever was purchased if it was mentioned at the check-out desk. Always willing to help the schools!)
The children get their love of reading from their parents, and the opportunity to do it through the discipline of their stepmother. As a youngster, Megan always had three books going in the house: one in the kitchen, one in the bathroom, and one in her bedroom. (I have no clue how she was able to keep the plots separate, but she did!) As an English teacher, I was always trying to steer her AND the grandchildren to good literature instead of the junk that is out there. At one time, Robin had a series of books about fairies. Although she was really into fairies at the time, the quality of those stories was awful. Thankfully, she graduated to better stuff on her own. Both children read way above grade level. Ryan, being all boy, is more into sports than reading, but he holds his own in that department. I never balk at buying books for the kids.
Our next stop was JC Penney's. Since they had mega-snow at home, Ryan had only worn his boots and forgot his shoes. (We had nothing on the ground here. He complained that he needed shoes anyway...) He found what he wanted, but not in his size, so we moved on to the jeans department and bought two pairs for each on Megan and Denis's nickel. Then on to Shoe Carnival. We finally found a pair of shoes that Ry liked...and Robin got some socks...then we came home. By this time, we only had an hour before we were to go to The Coachman Restaurant for my birthday dinner. Everyone was hungry. Good timing!
At The Coachman, we were to meet the grandchildren's Heffelman grandparents. They beat us there! The plan was to introduce Denis to good ol' Indiana pork tenderloin sandwiches. I was hungry for that, too, so most of us had that. However, so many appetizers were ordered that I'm not sure anyone was really hungry by the time the real food came! We all came back to the house for cake and ice cream afterward. Judy and Phil (the other grandparents) gave me a little box with a "grandparent" saying on it that they purchased in Nashville, IN...and Megan and Denis gave me a food scale (which I requested)...but the piece de resistance was a family tree on canvas that Megan had made using some software that Denis had developed himself. It is a one-of-a-kind gift! The graphic is in the shape of a tree, with the names of my ancestors and descendants making up the leafy portion. The only names on it that aren't direct-line ancestors/descendants are the names of my siblings that are on it, too. Actually, Meg gave me two of these--one of which was just the tree. The other had ghost-like pictures of ancestors behind the tree. Very nice! I am working on how to properly display these. No one else in the world has anything like it!
Sunday, I couldn't get any takers for church, so we slept in. The day had been blocked out and planned for Ryan to play with his buddy Jack who used to live next door to me. That worked out okay, although it is never enough for Ryan! For some reason, Jack's younger sister Grace didn't come, so Robin found herself able to snag some one-on-one time to play on the computer with her stepdaddy. I think she liked that!
Monday was departure day. With bad weather predicted for later in the day/night, they really needed to be on the road at a decent hour...but it was a work day for Denis. He had an online meeting with his workplace. (Thank God for my Wifi!) They left as soon as his meeting was over and everyone could get organized. The trip home was without weather and in time for Robin's Girl Scout meeting at home in Zion, IL. Whew!
One good thing about the visit (other than the obvious) was that I learned they would be back for their Spring Break! Megan's birthday comes in there, as well as Megan and Denis's anniversary...and Easter. I am already looking forward to that! I sure hope the weather cooperates. I woke up to 3 inches of very wet snow this morning. Hey! Let's be done with that stuff, okay????
My family--daughter, son-in-law, and grandchildren--arrived very late on Friday night, none the worse for wear. The children had fallen asleep in the car and so excused themselves to bed almost immediately. Meg and Denis and I stayed up just a tad longer so they could decompress. It was easily 2:30 AM Indiana time before we crashed.
Saturday, we were all late in getting up, as you might imagine. I got everyone fed brunch, then took off with the grandchildren for a shopping trip. Robin (my granddaughter) complained that she only had 100 pages left in a book she was reading, so we started out at Barnes and Noble. We went right to the service desk to ask for assistance, to save excess walking. Robin started spouting titles and authors of books she wanted, and the gal helping us found all but one. Ryan wanted a book, too...but the one he wanted he had already read. He wanted his stepfather to read it. Thus, Grandma bought all four. (They weren't cheap, but there was an added advantage that the Avon Schools were getting a share of whatever was purchased if it was mentioned at the check-out desk. Always willing to help the schools!)
The children get their love of reading from their parents, and the opportunity to do it through the discipline of their stepmother. As a youngster, Megan always had three books going in the house: one in the kitchen, one in the bathroom, and one in her bedroom. (I have no clue how she was able to keep the plots separate, but she did!) As an English teacher, I was always trying to steer her AND the grandchildren to good literature instead of the junk that is out there. At one time, Robin had a series of books about fairies. Although she was really into fairies at the time, the quality of those stories was awful. Thankfully, she graduated to better stuff on her own. Both children read way above grade level. Ryan, being all boy, is more into sports than reading, but he holds his own in that department. I never balk at buying books for the kids.
Our next stop was JC Penney's. Since they had mega-snow at home, Ryan had only worn his boots and forgot his shoes. (We had nothing on the ground here. He complained that he needed shoes anyway...) He found what he wanted, but not in his size, so we moved on to the jeans department and bought two pairs for each on Megan and Denis's nickel. Then on to Shoe Carnival. We finally found a pair of shoes that Ry liked...and Robin got some socks...then we came home. By this time, we only had an hour before we were to go to The Coachman Restaurant for my birthday dinner. Everyone was hungry. Good timing!
At The Coachman, we were to meet the grandchildren's Heffelman grandparents. They beat us there! The plan was to introduce Denis to good ol' Indiana pork tenderloin sandwiches. I was hungry for that, too, so most of us had that. However, so many appetizers were ordered that I'm not sure anyone was really hungry by the time the real food came! We all came back to the house for cake and ice cream afterward. Judy and Phil (the other grandparents) gave me a little box with a "grandparent" saying on it that they purchased in Nashville, IN...and Megan and Denis gave me a food scale (which I requested)...but the piece de resistance was a family tree on canvas that Megan had made using some software that Denis had developed himself. It is a one-of-a-kind gift! The graphic is in the shape of a tree, with the names of my ancestors and descendants making up the leafy portion. The only names on it that aren't direct-line ancestors/descendants are the names of my siblings that are on it, too. Actually, Meg gave me two of these--one of which was just the tree. The other had ghost-like pictures of ancestors behind the tree. Very nice! I am working on how to properly display these. No one else in the world has anything like it!
Sunday, I couldn't get any takers for church, so we slept in. The day had been blocked out and planned for Ryan to play with his buddy Jack who used to live next door to me. That worked out okay, although it is never enough for Ryan! For some reason, Jack's younger sister Grace didn't come, so Robin found herself able to snag some one-on-one time to play on the computer with her stepdaddy. I think she liked that!
Monday was departure day. With bad weather predicted for later in the day/night, they really needed to be on the road at a decent hour...but it was a work day for Denis. He had an online meeting with his workplace. (Thank God for my Wifi!) They left as soon as his meeting was over and everyone could get organized. The trip home was without weather and in time for Robin's Girl Scout meeting at home in Zion, IL. Whew!
One good thing about the visit (other than the obvious) was that I learned they would be back for their Spring Break! Megan's birthday comes in there, as well as Megan and Denis's anniversary...and Easter. I am already looking forward to that! I sure hope the weather cooperates. I woke up to 3 inches of very wet snow this morning. Hey! Let's be done with that stuff, okay????
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