I am the old generation.

 Today I awoke with a cat on my bed and a dog beside the bed.  The dog is not mine, but the cat is.  As I lay there thinking what the day held in store, and it suddenly dawned on me, that I had no reason whatsoever to leave my little bed.  Oh, sure the dog and cat need fed and let out for a bathroom break, but other than that I could just lay there all day and no one would know, or care.

Once upon a time I had a mother, father, 4 brothers, 4 sisters, aunts, uncles and lots of cousins.  I had friends galore.  I had places to go and people to see, but sadly that has all changed.  My family is all gone except for one sister that I never talk to or see.  The one friend that I had for many years moved down south some where.  She had a daughter who was very disrespectful to me and my "brood", so we stopped communication.  The friends that I made here in Colorado have mostly died , or pissed me off for one reason or another.  I have no room in my life for deceit, disrespect, and judgementalists.  So I guess, as Mother would say, "I have made my own bed and now I can just sleep in it".  We all know how wise my Mother was!

I live in a 2400 square foot house, all by myself.  I have a cat.  The cat loves me.  I have 7 geese who do not!  They depend on me for food, water and a shed to keep them safe from the foxes and such.  Bret was 8 when I got the geese as babies.  He is 32 now.  Geese, under ideal conditions will live about 16 years.  This makes mine 24 years old.  Every morning when I go to let them out, I expect to find one with his feet in the air, but it has not happened yet.  Someone suggested that I give them to the zoo so they could use them as food for the lions.  That is not happening.

I have always said that when the geese die off, of natural causes, I will sell this place and move somewhere else.  My destination is not set in stone, just so it is some where else.  I entertained the idea of buying a small van and just going from place to place, but even that seems like a lot of work.  I could just call someone to handle an estate sale for me and walk out the door with one suitcase.  That actually is the most appealing scenario at this point.  I could visit each of my kids for a month at a time.  They would be glad to see me twice that way (once when I came and once when I left!)

But for today, I will let the geese out of their pen so they can play in the pond I built for them in the garden area.  I am toying with the idea of planting fruit trees in the garden area.  If I cut down the cottonwood tree, I can fit 2 peach , 2 apricot, and 2 cherry trees in that area.  Or I can just drink another cup of coffee and wait for Jeopardy! to come on this afternoon.  I love that show.  I turn it on at 3:00 and then I wake up about 4:00.

Peace!

Christmas Day 2021

 For those of you out there who worried that I would be sad on Christmas, you can put your worries to rest!  I had a very good Christmas! I went over to Ross Barnhart's and had lunch with him and his family.  Food was delicious because Rooster and Missy grow their own vegetables and cook from scratch.  I think Ross made the pork roast.  Robin and Terri made something very good as an appetizer, but I do not know what it is called.

This is Ben!  Ben belongs to Robin and Terri and is a very sweet boy.  He likes to play video games and you will hear more about that yellow thing that someone is playing with there a tad bit later.

This is Terri, Ben's mom.  She appears happy, but trust me, you better "duck" when she looks at you!

This is Robin, Ben's dad.  He is trying to look so innocent here, but do not let your guard down. He kind of loses something against the bright window, but is still a lovely person.  You can not see too well, but he is setting with a cat who is almost as old as Ben, his son.  Terri and Ben belong to Robin, Ross's brother.

This is Ross's other brother, Rooster!  Rooster is married to Missy and I did not get a picture of her for some reason.  Rooster appears very innocent, doesn't he?  He is not!!!   For the record, he "ducked" me many times!

Now for the record, this is a duck!  It is a rubber duck!  It is about 3 inches long and made of rubber.  You stick your finger in it's head, stretch it out and let it fly at your opponent.  Now for some reason all of them decided I was fair game!  Can you imagine that?  little innocent me! 

This is the host, Ross Barnhart and the smile that looks so innocent is acutally an evil snicker!

And this is what they did to me!  They all shot me with ducks and almost killed me!  But, I have to be honest.... I shot them back!! I am not sure if those are ducks or chickens, but they stretch out to be about a foot long and fly through the air and do not hurt a bit when they hit you.  Where do people come up with this stuff?!?  I am thinking an idle mind is the devils workshop!

I do have to admit, this was one of the best Christmases I have had in recent years!  I usually just go to church and then set home and be miserable, but not this year!  I must admit that this is also the first time I have ever shot a duck!  I did try to conduct myself with some sort of decorum so maybe they will invite me back again!  Sure hope so!

So now, Christmas is but a fond memory and we are fast approaching the New Year.  Christmas was so much fun that New Years Eve will surely be anti-climatic!  And since I am so slow in my blogging now days, I am going to go ahead and wish you all a very Happy New Year!  

  Remember that what does not kill you will make you strong.  May the new year bring you peace and harmony and may the Lord shine his face upon you. 

 

But most of all I wish you peace and love, because when it is all said and done we only get out of this life what we put into it.

Shalom!

You cannot get the toothpaste back in the tube!

 There are 2 phrases that my psyche is shaped by and that I also fight with most of my adult life.  The first is "Hind sight is 20/20 looking back." and the second is "The road to hell is paved with good intentions."  There are many little things momma threw in along this line and for the life of me I do not know where she got them.  I strongly suspect that she got them from her mother since they lived a fairly cloistered life there in south central Kansas.  The sad fact remains, that all these years later, those are burned into the depths of my being.

In my younger days I was surrounded by Aunts, cousins, grandmothers and a few uncles.  Males in my lineage tended to either die young or live forever.  Uncle Coon lived to be over 100.  (Now I am not sure that this was his given name.  Seems like it might have been Conrad, but it is irrelevant to this article!)  The point is that while the rule at the time was that children should be seen and not heard, the other was that men were the strong silent type and it was best to remember that.  As kids it was our past time at family gatherings to hide under the table and watch the men enjoying an after dinner cigar or pipe.  As I recall there was a lot of coughing and choking while this "pleasure" was being indulged.  

This pastime was second only to spying on the chickens in the coop and hoping one would poop out an egg and we could see where it came from. (To this day I do not actually know how the plumbing of a chicken works, nor do I care!)

I only recall one male cousin in my youth and that was cousin Carl. The girl cousins were named Rosetta, Alvina and Marilyn.  I had another cousin named Donna, but she lived in St. Louis and we rarely seen her.  She never married.  

Carl and I were close at the time.  We used to weed the garden for grandma after family dinners.  Carl grew up and married someone and they had one child.  I am not sure it grew to adulthood.  Seems momma was the only one out of the whole family that was a good "breeder."

Momma had eloped immediately after graduation.  She married a man named Jack Walden and ran away to Chicago.  They lived near the "Loop" whatever that was.  They had a baby girl and for some reason mother found herself hitchhiking back to Kansas with the baby in her arms and fearing for her life.  (Or so I hear. Little bit of "toothpaste" for you there.)  When the baby was but a year old she married what would be my father and they lived not so happily ever after.  While the marriage may have been a bit rocky it lasted until his death in 1965.  I ended up with 3 half brothers, 1 full brother and 3 sisters.  Guess Josephine was my half sister.

All that is irrelevant!  It was at my mothers knee that I learned the art of being seen and not heard.  I also learned that when the words "Little pitchers have big ears!" were used I was about to be banished to another room and I better not listen to what was being said.  "Ixnay" meant no.  Anyone who died went directly to heaven!  No doubt about it!  The meanest SOB that ever walked went to Heaven.  Man beats his horse; straight to Heaven!  Seems like the only thing that would actually keep you out of heaven was lying to your mother and disrespecting your elders.  Stealing and pulling the legs off grasshoppers were minor infractions.  

So, here I set lo! these many years later, still a child!  Could it be that as we age, we become our mothers?  I need to ask my kids how their minds work.  Did they actually learn anything from me and if so, what was it?  Did they walk away with my good qualities or the bad ones?  Do they look back on their childhood as a learning experience?  Was I a good mother?  I know I was rarely there, but do they know I tried?

I guess only time will tell.  I do know they are all independent, compassionate human beings and I love them and they appear to love me.  I hope that I imparted just a bit of my wisdom and honesty to them by my actions.  It may be something I never really know, but when I look at the lives they live, I am proud of each and every one of them.  And I am proud of their offspring.  

Kinda hope that the fruit does not fall too far from the tree in my family tree!

Peace and love!

Oh, the things you do not say!

 I have a friend and when he starts to talk, he crosses his arms in front of himself.  Feet are apart and his back is straight with toes pointing slightly outward.  Now this screams "I am going to protect myself and you are not going to get close."  The words that come out of his mouth may be as casual as what a nice day it is or what he had for lunch, but the message relayed to me is nothing I am hearing.  Psychology 101.

I notice this in myself also.  Usually, I am pretty laid back and not much ruffles my little feathers, but occasionally the defenses go up and I turn inward and you can talk till you are blue in the face and I will not hear a word you say.  The conversation inevitably begins with "You just need to..." and ends with me sorting the mail and cleaning off the table.   You may think I just "need to", but unless it is my idea the need evades me.  

So, friend or foe, let's do this.... let us sit down here at the table.  I will fetch us a beverage of your choice.  I have coffee, tea, and water.  Hot or cold on the first two.  And be aware before you get too comfortable, there will be no winner or loser at this table!  You will no doubt think I took every word to heart but you are going to be sadly mistaken.  The conclusion that you draw from our conversation is now what you think you wanted all along.  You have been played by the master!

Mostly my life goes on every day in a mundane manner.  The dust piles in the corner and the cat hair covers the setting places in front of the television.  I gave up on the green carpet of grass outside the front and back door.  I now opt for the late fall dead weed scenario.  I do not have much company and that is due to the Covid crap that some bat in a lab in China is credited with developing.  Do not misunderstand me on this, my life is good!  Occasionally I will venture down into the sewing room and sew something interesting, like place mats or a quilt.  I made a lap quilt the other day and may make more of them and drop them off at the nursing home.  Then again I may not.

Today I am off to Monument with Ross, Rooster and Missy for Thanksgiving dinner with Robin and Terri and their family.  We will be missing Anna who is still in England and I, for one will miss her!  (When are you coming home, my little friend?) 

I got a new "kitty bed" for my Icarus and she sleeps beside me when I work here on the computer.  Right now the only sound in my house is the sound of the furnace that keeps me warm and the tinnitus ringing in my ears.

Life is good here on South Road most of the time.  I did have a fox problem a while back, but I solved that by buying a trap and playing catch and release with the neighbors cats.  

Now I see I have once more digressed from the subject I started to write about, but then that is one of the reasons I write and you read!  So, let us all go enjoy whatever we have planned for today and then meet here again later!  Right now I have to go whip a pint of cream to pile on the Tres Lechen Cake I made to take with us.  I plan on tossing a few Blueberries  on top followed by a sprinkling of cinnamon.  Maybe tomorrow I will remember what I wanted to tell you today, but for now,

Happy Thanksgiving and may our good Lord watch over us in our travels.

Peace!

Well, pour more water in the radiator.

Back when I was knee high to a grasshopper and before I went to live with the grandma's, it was customary to go visit them in Plevna at least once a month.  This entailed Sunday dinner (noon meal) with Aunt Lola and Uncle Alvin.  At this point I need to explain about the family car.  The only time this car was used was when we went somewhere far away.  Plevna was 24 miles and that was considered far.  The other place it went was Hutchinson, where my half brother Earl and his family lived.

I do not know what kind of car it was, only that it was black.  I am going to say it was either a Chevrolet or a Chrysler and I have nothing concrete in my little head to make me say that, but I think that is right.  So we would load up in the family car early in the morning, because it was a 2 hour drive.  I know that sounds excessive, but you need to understand some things.  First there were 2 adults and 6 kids in this car.  Potty breaks were frequent because no 2 of us ever needed to pee at the same time.  So any time dad would see a clump of weeds he would pull over and somebody would jump out and use the cover to "Squat behind".  

If the potty breaks were not a bother, the need to add water to the radiator was also a necessity.  The need to add water to the radiator, and leave water from an extended bladder never occurred simultaneously.  I am not sure why the radiator did not hold water, but one thing is sure, it did not.  There was often talk of "getting that radiator fixed", but it never seemed to happen.  Seems it was cheaper to just pick up "another cheap car" then fix the one we had.  You know, to this day I can not read the "Grapes of Wrath" without picturing the Joad family as being the Bartholomew family.

Now that is another thing.  Back in those days, the spelling of last names was really not too important.  The census taker came to the door with a piece of paper and all of the members of our household were written out in long hand by the person doing that job.  Consequently, when I check the census to find info, Bartholomew is spelled Bartholomeu, and Rueben appears as Rubin, so I am not sure who my father was.

But back to the car business.  I had an uncle who was very rich and owned a car way back when I was on the Stroh place.  It had a crank in the front and that was the starter.  It took 2 people to start it.  As I recall, it had a "rumble seat" which really served very little purpose at all except that it only carried 2 people and the rumble seat was what passed later for a trunk, except that a person could set on it if need of it was required.  And, just so you know, back in those days, upholstery on the seats was actual cloth.  And you had your choice of colors, black and later they added white and army green.  We could set by the road and know what kind of car it was by the sound of the motor.  Now you can not even hear them!

I do not know how I learned to drive nor when, only that at some point I did.  I do know that an automatic transmission was pretty much a luxury and needed to be ordered if you wanted one.  Learning to shift a standard transmission using a clutch was pretty much the hardest part of learning to drive.  When you learned that it was just a matter of keeping it on your side of the road.  Oh, and the brakes were another matter.  You had to be aware at all times of the possibility of the brake fluid leaking out a pinhole in the cylinder and when you pushed on the pedal it just went to the floor and at that point you better be able to "gear down" and stop.  Damn!  I sure miss those days!

I still drive a "stick shift", but that is just because that is what this Honda had when I bought it. I take it in for an oil change when the wrench light comes on and that is about all the little thing needs.  I have no idea where I was going with this when I started out, but I hope I covered whatever it was that I wanted to share with you.

This old age is a real challenge sometimes!  I used to have a bumper sticker that covered it.  It said,

Of all the things I've lost, I miss my mind the most! 

Today is the first day....

Today is the first day of the rest of my life.  And so it begins.  The Mother's Day High Tea is over and the Yappy Dog Run passed my driveway as I left for church yesterday.  The cups are wrapped and stored in the basement of the church.  This morning I will wrap the tea pots and put them away.  It was a very successful event and I look forward to next year.  The tea is the one time of the year that I get to see a lot of my friends.  This year I had 2 daughters, 2 son-in-laws, 2 granddaughters, 3 great grand sons, my niece Lisa Shea Porter with her husband and daughter and a partridge in a Pear Tree.  The kids got acquainted and a good time was had by all.  But now it is Monday and life moves forward.

When I think about this being the first day of the rest of my life, it seems a  little daunting, but I am pretty sure I can handle it.  All I can say is I had a bumper sticker once that summed it all up for me. It said "If I had known I was going to live this long, I would have taken better care of myself."  When I was a teenager, I knew I would not live to see 30.  When 30 rolled around and I had 5 kids I was pretty sure 40 was my limit.  40 came and I fell in love and decided I would probably live forever.  Now that I am beginning to fossilize,  I am wondering if age is not just a number?  I have lost a lot of friends and most of my close family.  I am sure there are no uncles or aunts left out there.  The most I could hope for would be a cousin, but I am thinking that is a futile thought.  I have lived in Colorado over half of my life and lost touch of what ever family I had back there.  Do not think I am complaining, because I am not.  I never kept track of them, and by the same token, they never kept track of me.  So there you go!

Now, to the rest of my life.  Many of my friends want to know what I am going to do.  So, let me just weigh out my options.  My 2400 square foot house on one acre of land is pretty much free and clear.  If I sell it, I have to move.  Now where would I move, you ask.  Since I have spent over half my life in Pueblo, Colorado, leaving does not make much sense.  Living in this big house all alone does not make sense either.  I have a cat and 8 geese.  The geese have never lived any where except here, so if I sold the house, the geese would have to stay with the property.  Icarus could move with me, but she has never been a litter box user, preferring rather to use the doggie door and go outside. If I moved into town she would no doubt be ran over the first time the door was opened.

Or, I could get a room mate.  Now, I am sorry, but I can not think of a single soul in my repertoire of friends that I would want to live with and share space with.  I do not want to live with a female who would hog the bathroom and leave things laying here and there.  She would no doubt want to be friends and share secrets, but I am not a secret sharing person.  I thought about maybe a little gay guy, but what if he wanted to throw a party?  I do not want parties and loud music.  I think I am best if I just live alone.  My ideal scenario is just to wake up dead some morning, or better yet, doze off while Jeopardy! is on and just not wake up.  That way, the mortician could just pick me up, the auction house could just sell all my treasures and then...….who knows.

I do not look on death as a bad thing.  Number one, it is inevitable and we are all going to do it sooner or later.  So, rest assured that when that day comes there is going to be one happy woman here!  Before you get excited thinking maybe I have a premonition, think again.  No visions.  No premonitions.  Just the ramblings of an old woman who has been there, done that, and moved on.

Have a good day and remember,

You can not sprinkle showers of happiness on other people without getting a few drops on yourself! 

We also serve who only sit and wait. A tribute to my children.

Anyone remember this picture?  I sure do.  That was 40+ years ago when I was a single mother raising 5 kids.  No problem.  A piece of cake.  Go to work, come home, take care of the kids, cook clean, homework, fishing on the weekends and maybe church on Sunday.  I was young and the world was before me.  I never dreamed for one moment that 40 years later I would be second guessing the job I did shaping these little minds and preparing them for the world ahead.  If I had thought of that angle I would have ran down the road screaming.  But I did not.  I simply went about the every day tedium of life and that was that.

I do not have a picture of my ex-husband, the father of this brood, but suffice it to say he was a drop dead gorgeous Adonis, smart, witty, generous to a fault, but alas, we both had our faults and so a divorce was inevitable.  While I was tending to life in Hutchinson, Kansas, he set up his empire in Western Kansas.  We shared the kids as we chose to without benefit of the courts system.  Sometimes they were with me, sometimes with him.   The point being, they reached adulthood and began making their own decisions.  Far be it from me to say I approved of some of those decisions or even that I understood where they were coming from when they announced them to me, but nonetheless, they were in charge of their lives.  The older girls were living with their father when I moved to Colorado, but I do drone on, don't I.  That is all water under the bridge.

 Earl Seeger passed  at 52 years of age.  That was very young.  The girls were all married by that time and had kids of their own.  Sam was off in the world slaying dragons.  And so our lives drifted until very recently.  Last May 10, Dona Maries's  son Joe was scheduled to graduate the next day, Mother's Day.  He went to see a friend, rolled his car and has been in a coma since. 

And now I have occasion to know exactly what my kids have become from their life lessons.  Dona has been at his side since the accident.  She has never wavered as she set by his bedside waiting for him to wake up.  Patty and her girls are with her most of the time.  Debbie and her husband visit regularly.  There are no negative thoughts.  God will take care of us through this, whatever this may be.  Sam, ever my rock, has explained that this will be a very long process and has made a budget and is on top what must happen through the process.  Sue and I set home and wait for updates.  We all know what we are capable of doing and we do it the best we can.

But the most amazing part is the love that binds this family together has never been more clear or stronger.  Life tends to let us drift apart, but upsets pull us back together.  Is that how it should be?  I do not know.  I always dreamed of a touchy feely relationship, but this seems much better.  We are all there for each other and we each know it.  I strongly suspect that it has always been that way.  Mother always said "You can choose your friends, but you are stuck with your family."  I sometimes wonder if she was being sarcastic when she said that!   

So here is Dona Marie with Joey and the therapist.  Joey had been sitting in the chair for several hours and decided he wanted to stand up.  The therapist told him he could not do that, but Joey with the Seeger/Bartholomew blood in his veins was clear about what would happen.  And it did.  Not once, not twice, but several times.  Then they put him into bed and he went fast asleep.  Dona, the middle child, who neither leads nor follows, is a bulwark for her son.  After 3 1/2 weeks in a coma, he is now making rapid strides forward.  I just got off the phone with Patty and Joey is very agitated and wants out of the bed.  The best news is that he is angry.  If he is angry, that is an honest emotion.  That is good news. 

And here is the family you saw at the beginning of this blog. I have added one more child since the first  picture was taken.  Bret is  22 years old and he seems to have the same good heart that the other 5 have.  So, to make a long story short, I am thinking that when I am old and grasping at that slender little silver thread called life, that is a pretty good bunch to have on my side and I am very happy to call them my children.  And I mean each and every one of them in their own unique way. I love each one with my whole heart and I love each one in a special way.  And I think they love me.  Or at least I hope so!

Yes, yes! I was a 60's flower child.

Woke up early this morning to think about things and decided that I grew up in the best of all times.  People who know me find it hard to believe that I never used drugs of any kind.  Unless of course we consider alcohol and tobacco, and I think those are both considered in that genre.  I was born in the 40's which was a time of war.  There was talk that I was actually fallout from Hiroshima or Pearl Harbor, but I think not since I was such a cute baby!
We went from peace after World War II to peace keeping missions in Korea, Vietnam, to war in   Iraq and are still a very warring faction and I am not sure where all we have troops now.  We went from a phone on the wall to a phone we wear in our ear.  We went from Frank Sinatra, through Elvis, the Beatles, Garth Brooks and now Miley Cirus and Justin Bieber are the current losers. We went from a black Model T through a lavender Corvette.  Poodle skirts gave way to mini skirts which were traded for culottes and now there are no fashion rules at all.  Baby boomers, John Lennon and Yoko Ono.   Birth control pills, floppy discs, Rubik's cube, a man on the moon and a woman in the space station.  Kent State, the collapse of the Soviet Union, and President Bush hates broccoli!  Do I need to go on with history?  No.
I just want you to grasp the picture.  Some times I like to think back and picture the first Indian who looked up and saw an airplane soaring overhead.  There is an old saying, "Time marches on!"  and one "Time and tide wait for no man."  I can attest to all of this.  We used to go buy a car from the lot on the corner for $250.00, put 19 cent gas in the tank and drive 150 miles to see grandma who inevitably lived on a farm usually in Western (insert name of state here).    Now we take out a loan for $25,000.00, put $4.25 gas in the tank, park our cheap little car in the garage of our house in the suburbs, and crawl on a plane for $650 and fly 2000 miles to see grandma who does not have time for us because it is bingo night at the condo center and she is in charge, but we can stay here at the house and pet her Labradoodle which is her latest designer dog.
The creek where we used to fish is no longer there.  It has been rerouted and is now a kayak course, but take your pole anyway.  You can set there and remember when you used to catch a cat fish and you could actually eat it.  Damn things glow now with radiation and I ain't eating that!  We can walk downtown to the "Historic area" which is now antique shops where I can buy a remenant of history for a price which is more than I used to pay for my car.  If I am really lucky I can find a friend my age and we can play "Oh, God, remember when we had to wear those awful shoes?"  And "Remember when mother used to gather up the pans because the 'tinker man' was due and he would patch the holes in them?"
I know you have a hard time thinking that was a good time, but it was.   It was back before any divorces and before I worked 3 jobs to survive and before I found out cigarettes were cool and a shot of whiskey sure took the edge off the lonliness and an aspirin was the strongest drug in my medicine cabinet..
 Back when we could walk out back, catch a chicken, "wring it's neck", pluck out the feathers and innards and have the biggest and best  pot of chicken and noodle soup in the world 2 hours later. Scraps of food were thrown out in the back yard for the chickens and the chicken would then lay an egg and the cycle continued.
 Back when school supplies included pencils and paper and a new pair of shoes for the winter ahead.  Back when the teacher was Miss Lauver or Mr. Bollinger, because teachers were respected and revered.  Clothes were handed down and when they were thread bare they went into the "rag basket".  In due time they were torn into strips, rolled into a ball and taken to the weaver lady who made them into rugs.  Wool clothes were cut into strips and mother crocheted them into rugs. Those were best cause they were thicker and softer.
Back when we walked to church every Sunday to save the car for an emergency or for when we went to see grandma and great grandma who lived in Plevena, a town of 102 people 24 miles away.
I would just ask that all of you out there stay in touch with your roots.  They are what makes you who you are today and they are unique to you.  You can look back and see all the things your parents did wrong while raising you, but try to remember that they were once young also and they were raised by a parent raising them who probably had no idea what they were doing either!  We all live and learn and some of us actually get to a point in our lives where we can say,

I did the best I could with the knowledge and the tools I had at the time so I forgive me!

She belongs to the ages now.

 

Go rest high on that mountain,

Girl your work on earth is done!

Go to heaven a shoutin'

Look for the Father and the Son..........

 

Mary Bell Bartholomew Shea

June 16, 1945

November 13, 2013



Lunch with friends, I think.

Well, here we are.  On the left is Frank and Shelly, his daughter.  On the right is Ron and Cliff.  I had crossed paths with Ron and Cliff a few weeks back and we decided, since we could not remember when we did it last, that a lunch date was in order.

See, many years ago, in a land that time forgot, Kenneth and I had worked with Frank, Cliff, and Shelly who have an excavation and demolition business called Colorado Dirt Contractors.  I think that was back in 1982.  Frank's mom and dad were wonderful people and for a while we all attended the same church; Temple Baptist on Thatcher Avenue.  I rented my home on Scranton from Frank, via his mother.  I loved that little house. But, I digress.

The date was set for our outing and we agreed to meet at Papa Jose's at noon on Friday.  Of course I arrived first, being the anal retentive that I am.  I was amazed to see that none of these people had aged.  Shelly tried to tell me she had, but I was not buying that.   I was taken aback to learn that her "baby" was 24 years old.  I do not know how that happened.  I knew Frank's dad had passed many years ago, but I was saddened to learn his mom was in a nursing home.  Last I knew she was still canning tomatoes in the back yard with all her daughter-in-laws.

As we all set there it was apparent that they all were on thier lunch hour from work, so I asked the question that was foremost in our minds.  "Hey guys, remember when we were all together and we talked about how we would retire when we were 55 or 60?  What happened with that?"  Blank looks, everyone.

Then Frank said, "Well, we don't work very much.  Just now and then.  Mostly we set around and try to remember people's names, or something we did and wait for lunch time.  Like, 'Remember Kenny Mercer?  What was his wife's name?'"  We all laughed at that. 

I told them the last time I had seen Gene, another acquaintence of bygone days,  he invited me to a barbeque and I told him to have his wife call me.  That was right after Kenny passed.  Still waiting for a call on that one. 

Then we tried to remember the last time we had gotten together and found that one eluded us.  I told them I had written a book and was going to have it published.  Some one asked what it was about, but I could not remember.  I asked about the wives and confessed that I probably would not recognize them if I saw them.

We discussed a former nemisis, recalled the junk equipment we had started out with and decided they had come full circle, once more tried to remember when we had last had lunch together and vowed to do this again very soon.  As we said goodbye in the parking lot and tried to find our respective vehicles, I could not help but laugh.  Here we are, a bunch of over the hill (Shelly excepted) friends who are still capable of being friends, and if they are like me, thinking of each other on a regular basis, but not bothering to do anything about it and then when we do, being very happy that it had happened. 

I have known these guys since I moved to Colorado.  Frank since 1979 and Cliff shortly thereafter.  That is well over 30 years.  Never had a disagreement with either of them.  Like their wives, care about their kids and in-laws.  Just never bother to keep in touch.  Is that the mark of an enduring friendship, or what?  I think so.

The last thing Cliff said was "Hey, Lou!  Let us know about that barbeque."  I stopped in my tracks, dumbfounded.  What was that all about?  And then I remembered about Gene and realized that maybe we were not as forgetful as we thought we were, or at least Cliff was not! 

So, guys, I look forward to our next meeting, when ever and where ever it may be!  My regards to the family!

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Well, what shall we write about today? Aunt Lena!

Yesterday I went to the dentist and I am now able to say I know exactly what Mother meant when she whacked me upside the head and told me to quit opening bottles with my teeth.  Wish she would have told me what would happen if I continued using them for a pair of pliers, but she didn't.  And of course the trip across town rendered the usual idiot that passed me on the left, cut in front of me to get to the right turning lane and then swerved back when he finally figured out which way was left while all the while keeping that damn cell phone firmly attached to his ear!  We seem to not have any laws concerning that sort of thing as "Johnny Law"  remained unperturbed behind me.  I thought about tapping my brakes to wake him up, but I know how my luck runs and I do not need a husband named Sally at this point in my life.
So that is what I intended to write about today, but when I woke up I had Aunt Lena on my mind.  Now I do not have a picture of her and Sister Donna is not awake yet, but I can see her as clearly in my mind as if she were standing right here in front of me. 
Aunt Lena was born to Johann Jakob Haas and Maria Dorothea Schrade (nee) on May 6, 1893.  She was given the name Magdalena Haas.  This was in keeping with the name Maria Magdalena, a daughter born to his first wife in Dettingen, Germany who was born in 1874 and passed in 1876 at the tender age of 1 year and 10 months. ( This was common to rename a new baby for one that had not survived.)  Aunt Lena was the 12th of 13 living children born to Johann Jakob.  Two children had died in infancy.  Prolific old fellow if you get my drift.  ;)
The Haas family settled in near Plevna, Kansas.  Now some how this gets very confusing.  The Gagnebin family lived near Abbyville, Kansas.  Helen Gagnebin married Frank Miller.  They had two daughters, Josie and Helen, and  one son,  Lewis Miller.  At some point in time Helen and Frank Miller wound up living next door (within a mile of each other.) to the Haas Family.  At that juncture my grandfather, Christoph Adam Haas (from Great Grandfathers first wife deceased)  in Germany married Josie Emma Miller in 1900.  She became my grandmother.  Seven years later Gottlieb Haas (Who replaced Gottlieb Haas who had only lived 7 months and died the year before Uncle Goll was born.) married her sister, Mabel Helen Miller.  All of these children are double cousins.  When Uncle Lou Miller cast his eyes on Magdalena Haas, Great Grandmother  came un wound and said "No!  Too many Haas's have married too many Miller's!"  Back in those days children actually listened to thier parents, so Lou and Lena were not married.  Uncle Lou later married a lady named Eva.  Aunt Lena never married.  She remained in Plevna and I think she took in sewing and cleaning and laundry.  I am sure she never worked at a job, per se, but she managed to be self sufficient.  I know she rented rooms to "old maid school teachers", but we never called her an old maid.  No way!  She was just Aunt Lena who was not married. 
But she was great!  I remember going to her house which was a block or so from Grandma Haas.  Aunt Lena kept a stock tank there full of water and let us kids get in it in the summer when it was hot.  Course we wore our clothes, but that was the fun part; letting them dry on us when it was really hot!  My first taste of air conditioning.  Her house had two or three bedrooms and was very simple.  Every where was crocheted doilies and table cloths; the same as grandma's house.   I recall the porch and the Lilac bushes all over her yard.  When I smell Lilac's in the yard now, I am transported to Plevna, Kansas and my dear Aunt Lena.  I do not think she ever painted her house.  Seems like it was always old gray bare wood.
She had an old car, which was probably new at the time and sometimes she would take us for a ride in the country.  If we spotted a creek she would whip that old Packard (?) over and we would leap out and climb the fence.  Aunt Lena knew how to pull the front of her skirt between her legs and tuck the tail in the waist band.  This made us wear pantaloons!  We did not dare to get that muddy water on our clothes or we would have been punished.
A funny thing I remember about Aunt Lena was the way she talked.  She never opened her mouth.  It was like her teeth were stuck together.  I'm sure they came apart because she had to eat, but not necessary to talk.  Aunt Lena was never sad, nor happy.  She would tell stories of the old days.  She knew every family member and what they were doing and when they had a new baby and everyone's birthday and where anyone with a drop of Haas blood in thier viens was at any given point in history.  I guess she was the family Historian.  She was my grandfathers sister and since I never knew grandpa she would tell me things about him.  I do not remember the stories, but I remember her saying "Your grandpa."  Never called him by name, just my grandpa.  I do wish I had known him.
Her and Aunt Mable made me a quilt and hand quilted it when Duane and I had been married for 5 years.  They made a quilt called Postage Stamp.  It probably had a million tiny squares and it was so pretty and the stitches were so tiny.  To this day I do not know where it went, but I do know where it isn't.  I think someone stole it when I was in Garden City, Kansas.  It was one of those now you see it and now you don't things.  I remember putting it away in a very safe place in our apartment on Jenny street.  And then it was just no more.
Aunt Lena was tall, or so it seemed.  Back when I was 4 feet tall everyone was tall.  And I remember Aunt Lena was so wrinkled.  I mean her face.  Maybe it was a combination of the hot Kansas wind and the farm life and maybe it was just my imagination.  Or it could be that when I lived with grandma Haas in 1955, Aunt Lena was 63 years old.  But she was the same wrinkled when she died in 1994 at the age of 101.  She lived alone in her home until just shortly before her death.  As I recall some kind soul had made arrangements for Meals on Wheels to deliver food to her on a daily basis.  That did not last long as she couldn't eat tha stuff.  One thing the Haas family is famous for is cooking.  And cook we do.  We use cream, butter, bacon, yeast and when a meal hits the table there are no boxes in the trash.  Kind of hard to eat institutional food after doing it yourself for 90+ years.  I know for supper every night she had popcorn.  Dry, I think.  But sometimes she put milk on it.  Popcorn is a staple here at my house, but it is just an occasional snack, not a meal!
The last time I seen Aunt Lena was at the family reunion that used to be every September in Plevna, Kansas at the high school gymnasium.  That was all that was left was the gym.  Aunt Lena was there and she must have been about 98.  Earl Boyd was also there.  He was a second cousin by marriage or something.  I will have to research that.  (And I will because there is another story to tell.)  Earl was probably 85 or so, but he had macular degeneration and could barely see.  Aunt Lena and Earl were visiting and I over heard there conversation.
"Lena, I would love to go see the old home place, but I don't have a car.  Do you have a car?"
"Yes, Earl, I have my car and it runs good, but I do not drive that far. (The home place was 4 miles away, but you had to cross highway 50.) Can you drive?"
"Well, yeah, but I can't see.  I am blind. But I can drive.  Can you see?"
"Yes, I can see really well, but I just can't drive."  Then Earl had a brilliant idea.
"I can drive and you can direct me!  We will have to go very slow cause if we wind up in the ditch we will be in big trouble!   I don't have a license any more and they would give me a ticket."
Then they both fell into silence and sat there a few minutes before Earl said "This old age sure ain't what it is cracked up to be."  Then they both chuckled and I could not help but smile.
But it is sad.  I told them the next time I made it to town (and at that point I always took Earl with me) I would round them up and go wherever they wanted to go.  But of course time and tide wait for no man and that never happened.  I never saw Aunt Lena again, but how lucky I am to have my memories.

This is a little family in the making, if you wonder what one looks like.

If you wonder what the life of Riley looks like, just take a gander at this little chickadee, all kicked back and taking it easy. 

 Now here we go just having a little peek at Grandma Lou.  This is the little angel that Grand Daughter Deven chose to weave a blanket and give it to her for Christmas.

And there she is hid behind all the toys that it is necessary for a tiny baby to tote around just to get through the day. 

And there is mom and soon to be dad.  I just wanted you to meet them.  I emailed her for the correct spellings on the names, but have not gotten an answer yet.  As soon as I get that I will formally introduce you to this little family who is slowly becoming a vital part of my life here in Pueblo. 

I do know the mom is Kimmie and her favorite food is Sloppy Joes!  I do know she is working on getting her Diploma and then going to school to make herself into something the Little Princess will be very proud of, and so will we!  Going to be there to see her walk up and grab that diploma and make us all proud!

Watch for them more in future postings!

Time to dig out the bike and dust it off for Spring!

Well, Spring is going to be here pretty quick and I want to be ready!  Here is the bike and it is going to get ridden just pretty soon.  I keep thinking I am going to get a new bike and I almost did.  I found a really pretty Lavender one at Target for only $104.00, but you know how it goes.  This bike has lots of memories and if it could talk it might get me in a bit of trouble!  Look at that seat!  Isn't that pretty?

This bike came off the neighbors junk pile and it used to be blue and rust.  I mean real rust, not the color.  So, Tim pulled it off the pile and brought it over to my garage.  Then began the transformation.  He took it all apart and made sure everything was there.  Tires were all right, but the tubes were shot.  New tubes, oil the chain, sand the frame and then came the best part, he and Chris painted it Lavender!  I had Goop! for the tubes.   So off to the store to buy the new seat.  That is called a tractor seat, in case you wonder.  The handle bars are some sort of ram's horn.  Total cost to get her road worthy was $26.99. 

You do realize this is a balloon tire bike and has no gears and to stop I pedal backwards.  I never could figure out the gears on those other things and the concept of squeezing the handle bar to stop was totally foreign to this girl!  I have another balloon tire hanging up in the garage that is a complete hoot to ride.  It is a boys bike and bigger than this one, but I did ride it some several years back. OMG!  Ryan, the grandson was probably 10 years old then which would have made it more like 15 years ago.  He damn near got me killed on that thing.  I know he is reading this, so I am going to let you be the judge here.

This thing had Ape Hanger Handle bars which are wonderful to hang onto and ride.  However, it also had knobby tires for God only knows what reason.  Course Ryan had his little bike he jumps with which I forget what they are called. But off we went over to the highway where there was a Kentucky Fried Chicken.  Going to eat a  little lunch and ride back, cause that is what grandma's and grand kids do...eat.  We stayed on the sidewalk where there was sidewalk.  A small section of the sidewalk was gone, so I, being the cautious one, dismounted and walked it around the 7 inch drop.  Of course, during lunch I was chided for this.

"Grandma!  It is a tiny drop and you can do it.  Just get your speed up and pull back on the handle bars and you will be fine.  You can do it, I know you can."  Ah, sometimes old ladies hear a different drummer and it all seems to make a lot of sense.  He was a kid and he could do it; sure I could do it!  I would make him proud!

Did you ever read Casey at the Bat?  That flashed through my mind as I pulled back on the handle bars.  As that knobby tire caught on the edge, I heard the swish of the bat, and as I landed on Highway 50 East with the Ape Hanger Handle Bar implanted firmly in my ribs, I realized, "There is no joy in Mudville, mighty Casey has struck out!" 

Now, Ryan, I know you remember this a little different, but I am proud to say, you will always remember this Grandma with a laugh.  Right?  I will remember you as the grandson who tried to kill me.  But even as I write this, I can see your little face bending over me.  I can see your eyes and I had no idea you could open them that far!  But what I will always remember is what you told your mother, between your gales of laughter!  "Oh, mom, you should have seen it!  Grandma was like in slow motion.......over, over, over....SPLAT!" 

Now, I know you ride a little bit different bike, one called a HOG and I mostly try to stay on the edge of the road and try not to get hit by a car, but surely we still have something in common.  Hey, come pick me up and we will go cruising!  Or maybe I will just make you some cookies since that is what grandma's are supposed to do!

Now be sure you vote in the poll up there on the left.  Got a bet going on this one!

It is me and my momma!!

Do you see those 2 youngsters up there?  The one on the left is me and the one on the right is my momma.  Course I am a lot younger there and from the way I am propped up on the pillows I appear to be about 7 or 8 months old.  But just look at that smile!  I was pretty happy about something.  Probably had just been fed and was nice and dry! This picture is in a silver frame that is absolutely beautiful so I am sure my momma loved me when she stuck me in there all those years ago.

Now take a look at momma!  I bet she is about 4 or 5.  Got her a puppy and is one happy little girl!  I think she might be setting on the porch of whatever general store they lived close to. I imagine it was in Plevna or perhaps Abbyville.  I do love those leggings and boots!  Wish I could get me a pair of them right now!!

I have a picture in my store on eBay of a girl herding a flock of geese and I swear it could be my mother.  Has the same leggings and boots, but has a head scarf on her head.  Remember those?  Well, most of you probably don't!

So I am going to take these two pictures out of the bottom of that box and put them here on the computer desk so I can just glance over there and remember my roots.  That way when I get to thinking I am nobody important I can remember that it was women like my momma and her momma and grandmother that made this country what it is today.  I still got those same genes pulsing through my body and through my children's blood.

So I will go out singing

"I am woman, hear me roar, in numbers to big to ignore!"