My very first marriage proposal.

It is now 4:20 AM.  I woke up about an hour ago thinking of my first marriage proposal.  Since that was 57 years ago, I thought I should lay there until that memory faded, but it did not, so I thought maybe the kids would get a kick out of  knowing I actually remember their father!  Not only do I remember him, but I remember him fondly.  He was my first love.  From the time I met him until we were married was a total of maybe 6 weeks.  To say it was a whirlwind courtship would be an understatement!

Back in those days, we still wrote letters.  Earl Duane Seeger and my brother Jake were good friends.  Well, they were drinking buddies, any way, but friends nonetheless.  I always called my first husband Duane.  Earl always sounded so formal and I had a brother named Earl, so he was Duane.  Duane worked for a man who traveled the state trimming trees.  Later in life Duane studied and got his license as an Arborist, tree trimmer, and licensed sprayer.  That is all beside the point.  What is important is at that time he would be out of town all week and only home on the weekends.  So we wrote letters.  It was too expensive to call on the pay phone and I think a stamp was like three cents back then.

So one day I got a letter from Duane and a lot of it was in German.  I showed it to my brother and asked him  what it said.
 
"Ich libe du means 'I love you'.  Ich libe du zer fiel means 'I love you very much'.  Wollen zie hie rauten mit mer?  I think that means 'Will you get married with me?'  I am not real sure, but I think that is what it means."

So being the starry eyed 18 year old girl that I was, I knew this was true love.  We were married at a church on the corner of Sherman and 5th street in Hutchinson.  His mom came from Jetmore with her husband.  My mom was there  as were a couple sisters, I think.  It was October 30, 1960 (I think) and it was the first snow fall of the year.  I borrowed my little sisters prom dress so I kind of looked like a bride.  At least I felt like one and I embarked on what I thought was the rest of my life with my husband at my side.

I kept his letters  until we had one of our many fights and I threw them in the sink, covered them with gravy and announced that the marriage was over.  Back then it was a simple matter (in my head) of just walking out and not looking back.  I did that many times until 10 years and 5 kids later, I never went back.  I loaded the kids in the back seat of a 1959 Chevy and filled the trunk full of clothes.  It was a trip I will no doubt remember to eternity, because it was the end of life as I knew it and I had no idea where my next meal was coming from.   (He sold every thing I did not take (including my house plants) at the weekly storage auction in Garden City, Kansas.)

He did not want a divorce, so he refused to participate in the court or paying for it.  Of course he refused to pay child support as well, but he did share in custody, but we went by our own rules.

Do we ever forget our first love?  I think not.  Are the memories always pleasant?  I think not.  My mother once told me that we all have different perceptions of what we go through in our lives.  Mother was very wise.  Over the years, my memories have changed.  I have mostly forgotten the bad parts and only remember the good.  I remember a blonde haired, blue eyed Greek God with a beautiful smile.  I remember how special he made me feel.  If we could have lived in a vacuum it might have lasted, but we couldn't and it didn't.  

He and I both moved on, but did we really?  In my mind he will always be 23 years old.  We will always be dancing to rock and roll music and we were good!  Fishing.   Coon hunting.  Watching the moon from a river bank.  Seeing the sun come up.  Memories.  Who knows.

That ship sailed a very long time ago.

Now they call it harassment. I thought it was a way of life.

I had a long talk with my son today.  Not the young one, the older one who will no doubt put me  in Shady Pines someday.  The subject of the "Me To" movement came up and I was explaining to him that when I was newly divorced and in the work force needing to make a living it was what it was.  Back then women were supposed to stay home and if a divorce was your lot you should quickly find another husband.  When I mentioned that I was paid less then the men in the work place for the same exact work or sometimes more work because the men had families to support, he could not believe it.

When I left my husband, I immediately went to work because I needed a place to live and food for the table.  I applied for welfare, but was turned down because I worked.  I could not get a medical card because I worked.  There were no programs to help me because I was eligible for child support.  Of course there was no child support forthcoming, but since I was eligible I was out of luck.  No stipend for child care either because I had a husband who did not pay child support.  I am happy to say that has changed.  Well, not for me, because my kids are all grown and gone, but for other women.

Back in the early 1970's I went to work at the Holidome which was owned by Holiday Inn.  Fancy place with an indoor pool and poolside rooms.  Top notch back in the day.  There were 2 cooks.  I do not remember the other cooks name, but it seems like it was George.  Our duties were the same.  We cooked orders for the clientele.  George had a helper so mostly he just smoked (and you could have a cigarette dangling out of your mouth and a spatula in your other hand and that was alright back then) and told his helper what to do.  Imagine my surprise when I learned that they were both paid more per hour than I was.  I say surprised, but not really.  Back then it was expected.  Men were superior to women and they had families to support.  I had 5 kids at home, but that was irrelevant.  What really frosted my cookie was when I found out that the boy who made salads earned more than I did.  He was hired after me and called in sick at least once a week.  That meant I had my work and his work to do for $2.00 an hour less than he made.

I talked to many people about starting some sort of union so pay was more equitable and sick days could actually be earned, but all that ever got me was laughed at.  It was a lot easier to get a  husband then to get a day or 2 paid vacation.  When I first started the restaurant jobs we got free meals, but then the owners decided we were eating them out of house and home so we could buy our meals at a reduced rate, but if we sat down to eat them we had to clock out.  Having a pizza delivered was out of the question as was bringing a sack lunch.  We either paid or starved until we got home where food was free.  Although free in not to say it was free.  Just cheaper then eating at work.

I bartended a while and was also a waitress in a bar.  Now if you think my ass was not grabbed on a regular basis you are nuttier than bat shit!  It went with the territory.  If a woman worked in a bar it was because she wanted a husband or a sugar daddy or at the very least a one night stand.  Being friendly brought tips and I needed tips, but not that badly.  A drunk in a bar is not what I wanted out of life.  When the bell tolled midnight I just wanted to jump in my car and race home to my bed...alone.  I did not last very long in the bar setting.

The point I am trying to make here is that sexual harassment has been around as long as I can remember.  The "glass ceiling"  has always existed and it was not until I left the work place that there were improvements made.  I am happy for the women who have made strides, but let me clue you and them in on something, it is still alive and well in suburbia.  After my husband passed I was left to handle all the household repairs and maintenance.  First order of business was to have the septic tank pumped.  Being new to this I got out my yellow pages and called the first one listed.  And here he came.

Short, greasy and with a definite attitude.  He jerked the lid off and informed me that it was dirty and nasty.  (Concrete lid covered with dirt on top of a riser where there were spider webs.)  Where was my husband and why was he not there?  Let's see, after he died he quit caring about the septic tank!  The $100 fee I was quoted immediately jumped to $150.  He informed me that it needed pumped every 6 months.  I paid him and never called them again.  I have a nice guy now who comes every 2 or 3 years.  Just one of the ways he discriminated.

Want my car worked on?  I get several estimates and if they ask about my husband, I don't call back.  There are shops out there who will discount because I am a widow.  And they repair what I want repaired and don't pad the bill.

It is no fun being a widow in this world of men, but more women are making it better for me.  I appreciate that.  But do not kid yourself into believing that we are on equal footing with the male population because they want us to be.  It is dog eat dog world out there and you can bet your sweet ass on one thing and that is I am no longer going to cow tow to the mean spirited little men I deal with on a regular basis.  If I pay they are going to treat me fair.

Life goes on.

I was married to an ostrich and never knew it.

The light of dawn, or in this case, the light of way before dawn is very enlightening.  I woke up at
4 AM this morning to begin the tedious task of sorting through my mind.  It is normally a scary process and today was no different.  Like many times before, I thought about my brother and how he died.  But this morning I also thought of my first husband and how he handled Jake's death.

It had been a few weeks since Jake's passing and I mentioned something about the event to Earl Duane, my first husband.  His response was simple.  "I don't think about it.  I pretend he has gone to another town and I will see him when he comes back or we go there."  Such a simple premise.  I often envied him of the ability to just ignore reality.  I wished often that I had taken lessons from him.  It has been 52 years and it is just as fresh in my mind today as it was back then.  I see him in the hospital bed in McPherson, Kansas, with his head propped up and his sandy hair falling across his forehead.  The scar on his right cheek was vivid.  He had no bandages because he was too injured to bandage.  He passed on October 31, 1965.  My dad had passed in February of the same year. 

I am not good at dates and can not tell you what day most of my family died, but Jake was like an extension of myself.  I do not know why I woke up with this on my mind, I just know it was not the first time and will probably not be the last time.  I do not remember any of my marriage dates except for Kenny.  Let me tell you, when I had to come up with all those dates for the social security I was one busy little girl!  I was on the phone with the Bureau of Vital Statistics for probably an hour while the man researched  the various marriages and divorces and separations and such. 

When it was all over , I thanked him profusely for his time as he had been a lot of help.  He knew more about me then most people and his last question to me was "I just want to know, what happened with old Earl."  For some reason that struck me as funny and we both had a good laugh.  But sadly enough, I have often wondered the same thing.  I did envy him his ability to completely disregard any thing that was not what he wanted it to be.  I am sure he did the same thing with our divorce.  He certainly was adroit at ignoring that little sentence about the child support.

Normally I do not talk about him as he is the father of my children and I respect him for that, but he had a different relationship with them from the one he had with me.  As long as we can all separate the man into two parts, we are good to go.  We did talk on occasion and he remembered me as the skinny little thing he married and nothing I did after that mattered.  In his mind I never left.  I was just gone into town to pick up some groceries.

So in closing, I want to say, my life is good.  My home is good, but way to big and way to much work for me.  I want to do something although I am not sure what.  I do know there are big changes coming in the next year.  It is going to start with a giant rummage sale in the Spring and then I will just see where the future takes me.  I have lived over half my life in Colorado.  For the first half it was Kansas.  Do I think about going back?  Sometimes.

For now, I am going to run through the shower and start a new day.  That is the best part of life to me, knowing that each day brings a fresh page and yesterdays are just that.

How many years ago was that?

I woke up this morning in a black 1949 Ford on my way to Jetmore, Kansas.  One kid in the front seat and 3 more in the back seat.  Going to go see Grandma Seeger.  Jesus!  How many years ago was that?  It must have been about 1968 or 1969.  I was newly separated  and it was my day off so I was trying to keep some sort of continuity in my life.  I had shaken the dust of Garden City, Kansas off my feet and was living in a 2 bedroom rented house near the Reformatory in Hutchinson.    Just off East Sherman but I do not remember the name of the street.  I doubt that it is still standing, because it was barely standing then.

The first thing that happened was when I called to have the gas turned on, they condemned the stove which was the sole heat source for the house.  That had to be fixed, of course.  Probably should have left the gas off as it turned out later to be a thorn in my side.  It was a constant battle to keep the kids from touching it and burning themselves.

I was working nights and sleeping very little.  I had done the laundry and not folded it yet so it was laying on my bed which was located on the back porch.  I set down in the front room for just a minute and fell sound asleep, only to be awoken to cries of "FIRE!"  Shit!  Debbie threw water on me and I was awake instantly!  Seems dear Sammy, turned the kitchen stove on and poked a piece of paper in the flame to see "What would happen?"  He did not want to burn his fingers so he threw the burning paper on my bed full of clothes.  Need I go into detail?  Of course I do.  I immediately began dousing the fire with water and finally had it out and no smoke was coming from it.  To be on the safe side, I drug the mattress into the back yard.  I called a friend of my brothers and he came and hauled it away.  I am not sure the landlord ever knew where his mattress went.

Smith!  That was the name of that street.  That was my baptism by fire into the world of single parent life.  The girl who lived across the street babysat for me.  She also babysat my only pair of jeans I liked. Remember that when I left my husband I weighed 92 pounds so I was considerably thinner than I am now.  Actually, there could be 2 of me now!  She also releived me of my class ring and my wedding rings.  That was also where the kids got ringworm.  Sam filled the gas tank on the Ford with sand.  The old $150 Chevy that I arrived in Hutchinson threw a rod and I bought a 1949 Ford from Jake's friend, Clell.

You must know that back in those days, child support was optional and my husband opted out.  Welfare was there to help single mothers, but if you worked, they did not help you because you had an income.  Since I worked and could see no way to feed us if I quit, I never drew welfare.  No welfare, no alimony, no child support.  I must say part of the child support not coming was my fault.  My husband explained to me, as if I were a couple bricks short of a load, "You wanted the divorce.  I did not.  You have the kids.  I have nothing.  You should be paying me because you took them away from me."  And in my befuddled, insecure little mind, that all made good sense.

After a time the roof began to leak and the landlord would not fix it so my mother let me move into her house over on 5th Street.  That also brought a change of employment and began my career as a cook at the Red Carpet Restuant.  The husband moved to Hutchinson and took a job at Cessna.  We reconciled for a week or so and then he left town because he "just could not do the boring existence thing."  Welcome child number 5 and a tubal ligation!

I dated a radio personality and learned to decorate wedding cakes.  The radio guy turned out to be a real jerk but the cake decorating turned into a fairly lucrative part time job.  I dated a guitar picker and learned how to sing country!  When Christmas time came, his mom gave me 3 pairs of cotton underwear.  Never really got over that and so much like Glen Campbell or Hank Williams, I moved on.  Then  I found out just how good booze could be and it could always be depended on to see me through the rough patches.

And now I dream about those days.  When I was there it was a constant battle and there were times I wondered if I would survive.  There were days and nights when putting one foot in front of the other was the only hope I had.  Just one more day.  One more night.

Got to end this here because I am starting to feel sorry for myself and I do not want to do that.  That is how life becomes unbearable.  Just gotta keep my shoulder to the wheel, my eye on the prize and take it one day at a time.

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Tide pods, or what the hell do I do now?

I just saw something horrifying on the news!  You know the pretty little canisters that hold the Tide Soap Pods that I just toss in the washer and forget?  Well, I had one near catastrophe with them so far.  I tossed it into the washer part, it hit the spindle in the middle of the tub and ricocheted between the tub and the liner.  To the best of my knowledge it is probably disintegrated, or a least I hope so.  But worse then that, they are now going to make the canisters child proof!  Remember what I told you yesterday about that?  I thought I was safe in the laundry.  What kid actually wants to eat soap?  Apparently there are a lot of them out there!

Oh, when mine were young they ate soap a time or two before they learned acceptable language and the words I use are two entirely different things!  Now they did snack on the ex-lax once.  That was Debbie and Dorothy Renee.  I do not think either of them eats chocolate to this day.  As I recall, if there was something we did not want them to ingest we put it up very high and if we caught them near anything we had told them "no" to, there was a little thing called  "swat your hiney" that we played.  This was our idea of positive reinforcement.  We also knew how inquisitive the little bugger were so we used a tactic called "watching the kids."  No doubt we were infringing on thier privacy, but trust me here; a trip to the emergency room infringes on a lot of my rights.  So we did it.

There were other cruelties we did to them.  I liked to put them in "time out."  Time out usually meant that they would fall asleep and I could get a break.  Course since I ended up a single mother and child support enforcement at that time was a big joke, the kids were usually under the care of a "babysitter."  This was a person who was paid to come into my home and do the "watch the kids thing" while I worked.  I had a very lovely lady name Mrs. McIver who came daily and the kids loved her.  She read to them and took them for walks and all the things I never had time to do.  There was another lady who came when Mrs. McIver could not.  Her name was Ida Mae.  She was a very quiet lady and did her job of "watching" them.  This coupled with the fact that she had about 14 whiskers on her chin that were 5-9 inches long made them fear her.  She always brought them candy, but they never accepted it.  Could have been the ex-lax factor there.

Getting to the point here.  As an old lady with stiff fingers I am living in terror of what they are going to devise to keep me out of my Tide Pod container.  If they just secure the lid I think I can get the butcher knife and cut the top off and throw it away.  But if they make the container itself  heavier, I have to be careful.  I have scars from trying to chop away the heavy plastic and since my skin is getting thinner the kids are starting to hide my knives.  I think this is why old people end up in the nursing homes!  We are confronted on a daily basis with challenges on these damn child proof things.  So we don't use soap in the laundry, we don't take our pills, and even the bottle of milk sets on the shelf because we can not grab that tiny ring (assuming we know it is there and we can see it).

It is just easier to go to the nursing home and let them do it for us.  Then we get in there and find out they got the laundry mixed up and I now wear underwear that need to be held up with a safety pin and a bra that perches on the tips of my nipples.

I am telling you, this old age shit is for the birds!

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No Disneyland for my kids and they survived!

I was downstairs just now pinning a quilt in the quilter and had one of my epiphany's.  I just love that word!  So, anyway, I had the television on and heard the announcer say something about a trip to Disneyland for some little kids who were very ill.  It was then I thought how nice that was that the little kiddies can go there and have fun.  Flash back to my children.  I raised five of those suckers and never even thought about Disneyland.  Assuming it had been invented at the time.

But we have to go back further.  All my children were fathered by my first husband, the drop dead gorgeous German guy who thought Hitler was the smartest man that ever lived.  I have always had an infinity for the German guys, but Hitler was so wrong!   My roots go back to the Black Forest and the Erms, so I think that is where that comes from.  Well anyway, after 11 years we decided to split everything in half and call it a bad experience.  So I walked out with a 1957 Chevy and 5 kids.  He got the tree business and his freedom.  Seemed fair to me.  When it came time for child support, he explained to me that he did not want the divorce, so he should not have to pay alimony or child support.  That made sense to me, so that is how it stood.  Back in those days you could do that.

Now understand this, when I struck out on my own with 5 kids to take care of, I did not have a high school diploma and knew how to do jack as far as supporting myself went.  Ever hear the saying "Ignorance is bliss?"  Very true in my case.  I got a job waiting tables.  I then went to work at the Red Carpet Restaurant as a short order cook, moved up to head cook and then manager.  Had a disagreement with the boss so went across town and bought my own place. The rest is history.  Got married, got divorced, got married, moved to Colorado, got divorced, got married, got divorced, got married, got widowed and here I am.  But I digress. 

I look back on raising the kids there in Hutchinson, Kansas and wonder just what kind of mother I really was.   I know I never took them to Disneyland, but I did take them fishing!  Every Sunday in the summer we would go by a place on Second Street and pick up 6 hamburgers and french fries for $1.00.  Name of the place was  B & D Carryout.  We then headed out to the Arkansas River, or behind the Bible Camp on Cow Creek. Once we went to Dodge's Sand Pit and I caught a very big Channel Cat.  Put it in the freezer and the kids fed it to the cats.  So, here is the question I have for you.  Today all my kids love to fish.  I think even Sam thinks about it sometimes.  Now had I taken them to Disneyland would that have made an impression on them  in a very lasting way?

I look back on those years and know that had I been depositing the child support check instead of the check from my second and third jobs I might have been able to give the kids more, but would that have made me a better mother?  Their dad took them on vacations.  He came and spent time with them.  They went to his home in Garden City and stayed sometimes and as they grew older spent more time with him.  We never pushed and pulled the kids.  Just told them when they got older they would understand and I think they pretty much do now.  They are all successful in one way or another. 

Sam put himself through college and is financially successful.  Dona put herself through Cosmetology School and has her own shop in Lakin.  Patty is retired from the Library.  Debbie is a survivalist in eastern Kansas and could build you a house from tin cans!  Sue is here in town and is self sufficient.  There are all honest, tax paying,  hard working, caring, self sufficient human beings.  They all love me as their mother and while Dad has been gone for many years, I still see  shades of him in all of them.

So, did they miss out by not going to Disneyland?  Or, and I just thought of this, maybe they went!  Maybe their dad took them.  I guess I never really asked them!  The point I am getting to, and I always have one you know, is this, I did the best I could with the tools and the knowledge I had at that time.  It is always easy to look back and see how it should have been done.  I sometimes wonder if I knew way back then, what I know now, just how my life would have played out on the big screen?  I should not have ever married the first one, but then I would have no kids.  Don't want that.    Everything and everyone that has touched my life, however briefly,  has made me exactly who I am today.  So if you love me today, you have to love the past that brought me to this point.

Don't ask me for all my little dark secrets, cause I have forgotten most of them.  Can't get the toothpaste back in the tube and not sure I want to try.  Just know that I will love each and everyone of you just exactly as you are with all your idiosyncrasies and I ask that you make me the same deal.  When you look at Lou, what you see is what you get!  I may come with baggage, but I carry it well!