My kingdom for a horse, or son, whichever comes first.

I woke up this morning at 2:30 thinking about my first pregnancy and marveling at how times have changed.  I married Duane Seeger back in 1960.  I was 19 years old and I had known him for 3 weeks.  In hindsight, I think I might not have made the wisest decision, but then it was a good run and I got 5 kids out of the deal.  He wanted a son.  He explained that to me when he proposed.  I kind of wanted a son too, so it seemed a match made in heaven.  So we spent the first year trying to get pregnant and the next 4 trying to stop!

In 1962 I had Debbie.  1963, Patty.  1964, Dona.  1965, Sam.  We took a break, got a divorce and then had Susie and got another divorce.  I have actually sent several divorce lawyers through college.  But that is not what this is about.  This is about how the whole business of delivering a baby has changed.
I remember when Momma had my little sister, Dorothy.  It was right before harvest and back then women laid in bed for 10 days (or so it seems).  When harvest started mom had to drive one of the trucks that hauled the wheat to the elevator.  She was nursing, you know, and no one else could do that, so Dorothy laid on the seat beside her.  The rest of us kids were left at home at the mercy of Josephine.  Women did not go to the hospital to give birth.  It was done at home, usually with a midwife in attendance;

Side note here:

Origin

Middle English: probably from the obsolete preposition mid ‘with’ + wife (in the archaic sense ‘woman’), expressing the sense ‘a woman who is with (the mother’).

And you must remember that women were second class citizens until the last century.  A good horse was more highly prized than a wife.  A man could always get another wife,  but a horse was hard to come by!

Lucky for me, I went to the hospital for all my births.  The first one, Duane dropped me at the front of the hospital and called the next day to see what I had.  He came 3 days later to take me home and rail at me for not having him a son.  I kind of liked her and she was really cute.  For the next 2 years, we repeated that scenario until I finally got it through my thick head that he REALLY wanted a son and I finally had one in 1965.  He did not want him named after him and he had no idea what he DID want.  I had always coveted the name Samuel Reuben.  Everyone knew that.  So I told the nurse my choice and she was aghast!  It was a Catholic hospital and that was a Jewish name. So I caved and named him Earl Edward.  Back in those days I would not have said shit if I had a mouthful.  I have gotten a backbone since then.  Today he is still called Sam.  He was always Sam and he will remain Sam.  Somethings do not change.  

Now I had a son and Earl Duane actually came to the hospital to pick me up.  Boy was I surprised!  Sadly, our life and relationship did not change because I gave him a son.  But life did go on for both of us.  He has been gone for many years, but one of the girls still lives on the land in Lakin, Kansas.  

Now, I must confess, when I crawled out of the bed 3 hours ago, I was thinking about Wakeeney,  Kansas and events that had transpired there, but I digressed.  I must remember to do a blog about places we lived and how the rental of apartments had changed from back then.  Right now I have to go do other things, because I am old now and my duties have changed.  

The old testament comes to mind at this moment. Not sure of chapter and verse, but I know I knew it at one time....

Go forth and mulitply!!!!

This about says it for me.

I have spent my whole life searching for something.  Always looking for the outfit that would make me beautiful, the meal that would satisfy me, the car I would love to drive, and clear down to searching for the man that would make me complete.  Some of those things I actually found, but no longer have them.  I do the looking back and regretting a lot, but it does not seem to do any good.  Then I found this picture on facebook and it pretty well sums it up.

I have the big house.  I have the car.  I have more clothes then I will ever wear, eat what I want when I want.  I had the man who made me feel complete for 20 years.  Now I am alone and I have the perfect opportunity to find myself.  It is time to deal with that little girl on Strong Street, the battered wife, the neglectful mother, the absent sister, and the wayward daughter.

Many years ago I put all my emotions in a closet and now I find that I would like to take them out, examine them, forgive myself and move on.  I suppose life itself is built on a learning curve and I am just grateful to have stayed on this spinning ball long enough to understand this.

I can not save the world.  I can not even save one person, but I can save myself.  Maybe some day there will be room in my life for another man, but it is not now.  I am going to look at myself in the mirror and not see wrinkles and scars.  I am going to see a kind, loving woman who wants to save the world, but I am going to start with myself.  This pretty much sums it up! (click blue)

Wish me luck!

Just getting up early to bitch!

Course I always get up early and have my alarm set for 5:30 AM in case I sleep late.  Since I get up early, I get my best work done before Mr. Sun pops over the horizon.  Several times a month I "redirect my emails."  By this I mean, the ones that have slipped by AOL's stringent spam eye.  That is a simple matter of clicking on the "this is spam" button which sends it to the spam folder which allows me to delete a whole page of trash with one little click on the delete button.  But occasionally I like to go in on each one and "unsubscribe".  That is a time consumer.
In the first place, most of them were never subscribed to in the first place.  Remember back when "junk mail" was the rage?  I used to keep a box by the door and toss it in there to be burned or shredded since I could not throw it in the trash because it had my name, address, telephone number, birthday and second child's information all over it.  I get very little junk mail nowdays, but the computer is full of it!
But sometimes I notice that the spam folder is becoming unmanageable so I start through and read them, sort of, but not very closely.  I can tell you, if I were to order all this stuff, I would need to be a very tall man, with a heaving bosom, a flat stomach, small penis, wrinkles, long eyelashes, full lips, flowing hair, shapely legs with varicose veins, in need of birth control, and suffering from erectile dysfunction!  This tells me that they have not researched me very well.  That being said, I start reading until I come to the "unsubscribe" button.
Now they want me to give them my email address that I want to unsubscribe from.  Excuse me!  This one.  And now, why do I want to unsubscribe?  Because I never subscribed in the first place.  Would I like to change my settings?  No, I don't think so.  What year did my father die?  Damn!  This is harder then I thought!
So when this is all done, I hear my mailbox click.  Oh, look!  A letter from them telling me how much they are going to miss me.  Won't I please reconsider?  This is much like the "do not call list"  that I update on a regular basis both on the land line and the cell phone.  Needless to say that does not mean you will not get phone calls from political parties, surveys, religious organizations, charities, off shore drilling rigs and the occasional scam to tell me that my darling grand daughter has been arrested, and I need to wire $15,000 to a bank in Tiawan to secure her release here in town.
But, on a lighter note, it is shaping up to be a great day!  Off to breakfast with the church people, then in to work with the step daughter, then home for what ever reason I always return here.  The moon on Thursday night was huge and beautiful before it was covered by the clouds.  Last night I could not even find it!  That troubles me cause I thought I knew where it was.
Have a good one and remember that every cloud has a silver lining!

Ever had a colonoscopy? Want one? Niether did I!

This is Debbie and her darling Hammer yesterday morning.  It was my date with destiny for the colonoscopy, which I had fought tooth and nail for years.  As luck would have it they had driven in the night before from Longton to attend a funeral in Pueblo.  Picked the one day of my life when I was not allowed to eat anything, thus I was not cooking.

This is my daughter Patty who had driven in from Lakin, Kansas specifically to take care of me during the time I would be incapacitated, and to drive me to and from the hospital.  So, I was in good hands.

If you have ever had this procedure, you will recall that visiting on the night before was a challenge at the very best.  They did fend for themselves in the eating department, which I think means they probably did not eat.

Now let me just go on record here as saying at no point in time did I ever WANT a colonoscopy, but some where along the line it became a power struggle between my doctor, who shall remain nameless,  and me.  I had a perfect doctor before him.  Dr. Riechert.  I never seen him.  If I had a problem, which is rare, I called and he fixed me up.  Silly stuff like poison ivy, pleurisy, and the occasional renewal of the thyroid prescription.  But, unfortunately, he took better care of me than he did himself and after his demise, I was on the hunt for a new doctor.  Enter Dr. Nameless.

Since he was now the man who was in charge of my health care, I thought I should at least meet him.  So I made the appointment and we met in his office, both of us fully clothed.  Nursie took my vitals and he checked the chart when he came in.  The following conversation ensued.
"So are you in any pain?"
"No, not a bit."
"I see you have high cholesterol.  I will give you Lipitor."
"I tried it once.  Didn't like it.  Like the high cholesterol better."
"You do not need a pap smear.  Do you want a colonoscopy?"
"Do I look like I want a colonoscopy?"
"Why are you here?"
"I am here because you are my new doctor and if perchance I end up flat on my back in the ER, I want you to be able to say, 'Oh, I know her.  She is my patient.'  I require very little maintenance, but I do need a family doctor."

Thus began our patient/doctor relationship, which over the years included one pap smear, and several referrals for the mammogram (which was invented by a frustrated husband some where) every year or so.  He did finally talk me into Zetia for the cholesterol problem, which I managed to tolerate for almost 2 years.  But the colon business was just a formality of "Do you want a colonoscopy?"  "Do I look like I want one?"  In all fairness, I felt rather sorry for him trying to doctor someone who does not want doctored.  Finally he asked if I would do the "poop test" and since that was non invasive, I agreed.  Now this is where my life spiraled out of my control, so listen and learn.

Nobody told me, do not eat red meat for 4 days before you do the test.  Nobody told me, do not eat beets or anything red.  And since I eat damn near anything except cooked apples, I ingested probably anything that crossed my path prior to the "taking of the sample with a paint brush".  (Playing in my poop is not something I normally do just for the record)!

To make a long story short, of course it came back positive.  Of course I was going to have a colonoscopy.  My insurance insisted on that.  So that is what I did yesterday.  Now I am here to tell you that Sunday I was not allowed to eat food and could only have clear liquids.  Eating is my passion and I did not enjoy that at all!  Sunday night was the worst experience of my life.  I had to drink a gallon of the most foul stuff I have ever encountered in my years of drinking and I have downed some pretty gross stuff on my way to a good drunk (if there is such a thing as a good drunk).

Now, I am happy to report that I passed with flying colors, and have two pages of pictures showing nothing but the cleanest colon in town.  My kitchen floor should be so clean!  My friend stopped to see me on my way into the hospital and decided I looked "fit" and after work came by to reassure himself that I had indeed survived and was amazed that I showed no signs of being any worse for the wear.  I tried to look pathetic, but could not pull it off because I had to laugh at him.  Bless his heart.

So in closing, let me tell you this... if you find yourself facing this, not to worry.  It is a piece of cake.  If you survive the night before you can survive anything.  And so I can continue my march down or up the road with that behind me and when I see the doctor again, I shall remind him that I am one of the healthiest old ladies he will ever encounter and not to make me take any more tests!

Well, the day has finally come that marks the end of the trail here on South Road.

Last night the son and his chosen one started hauling their possessions up the stairs, out of the trailer, and the storage shed and packing it into Jerry's van.  And then the trip to Florence and the new house began.  You know, it is kind of sad to see this happen.  Not because I will be alone, because I am a rather solitary person anyway, but rather because it marks the end of my child rearing days.  Started that little chapter in 1962 and now in 20ll I watch the last little fledgling spread his wings and try it solo.  The only difference here is if  the baby bird does not make it successfully, it will plop to the ground and either die from the fall or a cat will come along and eat it.  Not so with the human race.
I have friends that say, "Oh, he will be back."  I do not think they understand.  I do not want them back.  Not because I do not like them.  Nor because I want to live alone.  Or because I finally have a complete room for my eBay stuff.  I want them to succeed.
I want them to know the thrill of coming home at night after a hard day's work and turning their very own key in their very own door.  I want them to know who mows the grass, who washes the dishes, who pays the electric bill, who buys the dog food.  I want them to know the thrill of something called Independence.  While I did not give birth to this little bird, I taught him to walk, I potty trained him, sent him to school, and tried to instill in him a sense of right and wrong, justice and equality, and all the things he needs to know about being kind to the lesser on the planet whether man or beast.  I have tried to lead by example.  They never did catch on to the Recycle thing or the healthy diet, but I can't win them all.  Now we will see how that works out for me!
They did spend last night here, and that is what it was; the last night under Momma's roof.  When they were getting ready to take the load to Florence, Amanda asked me, "Well, how do you feel?  We are leaving.  You will be alone.  Are you going to miss us?"  And I answered as best I could to this girl who has become like a daughter to me.
"As for being alone, we are all alone.  I have been alone all my life.  Sure I will miss you, but this is life and it is time.  You kids need to build your own life.  You can never be on your own here in my house.  You need your own little corner." 
She did assure me that they will come and visit every day.  Well, every day that they work in the shop in Pueblo.  Maybe not every single day, but most of them. Ah, the exhuberance of youth!  Makes me remember back to the day when I was 19 years old and I looked up into a pair of the bluest eyes and knew I would never be alone again.  I was wrong on that day and have been wrong many times since.
And when it gets right down to it, we are alone and we will always be alone.  And such is life!