Skip a rope.

 I have pretty much lived my life as an open book.  Not many secrets behind my closed doors.  Oh, I may occasionally dash from the shower to the bedroom stark naked because I forgot to get clean underwear, but that is about it.  And I may have an occasional carnal thought crossed my mind, but for the most part I live a fairly honest and open existence.  Sadly, I find that is not the case with a friend or acquaintance.  And that gives me pause to think back to my mother's words.  Mother was the wisest woman I knew, but she also had a side that was what she called her "dark side."  I think I may have one also!

Oh, it is not that bad!  Just little things and thoughts that flash through my mind on its way to oblivion.  But I am filled with consternation when I learn of someone actually acting on their sick little fantasies.  Or maybe it isn't a fantasy, only a need to control someone else.  And when that someone is a child, it enrages me.  

Childhood is a time of sand and shovels!  A time of play and imagination.  A time to learn.  A time to build up and a time to take down.  A time of laughter and a time of reaching for the stars.  A time when home is a safe place to grow.  Not a time to be beat down and belittled.

I remember my childhood and while we lived in abject poverty, we had a safe home.  If we did something wrong, we were punished.  Not beaten down, but punished and we knew why we were punished.  Never were we struck because mommy or daddy was having a bad day.  In all fairness I do not remember ever being spanked.  I spent time with my nose in the corner thinking about what I had done, but never put there just because someone bigger than me thought it was a good idea.

Being a grandmother is kind of fun.  Little kids really want to please and they want to help.  Sometimes, it takes a lot longer to do something when I have help and the cookies may come out rather dry or lopsided, but they are still cookies.  We wash our hands, so they are safe to eat!

I let the grandson sleep with me when he stays the night.  He used to have his own bed, but then he decided he needed to keep me safe.  Not sure what had happened to make him think I was not safe, but if he needs to, he can.  Maybe it is not so much me he is worried about!

I guess the purpose of this post is to convey to the adults who read this that children speak a different language then adults.  The little body that is in the bed to "keep grandma safe", may be seeking it's own safety.  Listen to your kids.  I mean really listen.  Listen to the children when the play.  click here

Peace!

Depression rules this month!

 October and November are the two hard months for me.  Of course, when you get to my age there are anniversary deaths and birthdays every month.  And they occur in every month, but it just seems like fall and winter are the most prolific.  And then I have momma whispering in my ear to remind me that I am getting older.  I almost said I am getting old, but older works better in this context!  My mind is still fairly clear and for that I am grateful, but when I look back at the people who have left me, I get very sad.

Earl, Richard, Gene, Josephine, Jake, Mary, Dorothy, and of course, mom and dad are all gone, along with a myriad of aunts, uncles and cousins.  Just Donna and I are left to carry on the heritage.  I have lost track of all the cousins and their lineage.  I figure I am doing good to remember my kids and their  kids and those kids's kids!  I had a great granddaughter graduate high school last year!  I think I have 8 grandkids and 11 great grandkids.

Longevity seems to be a given in our family.  Either you pass to your great reward in your sixties, or you are doomed to a long and fruitful life.  Since I am now 81 years old, I am assuming I will be a centurion in the future.  Kenneth passed 20 years ago, and I have dated a few times, but I cannot bring myself to think I want to have another husband at this stage of the game!

I tend my geese and raise a garden.  I can my produce and bake and cook.  I drive myself to church and shopping and change my furnace filters when they get dusty.  I need to paint, but that is not happening.  I got the smoke detector down from the top of the wall, changed the battery, but cannot seem to twist it just right to put it back up there.  I am assuming it will beep if it needs to!  It will be much easier to turn off laying on the sewing table by my bedroom door!

Well, the day has begun and the geese want out of their house.  They need to forage through the weeds on the back acre looking for a stray grasshopper or a treasure trove of seeds.  I need to brew up a cup of coffee in my little french coffee press and get ready to face the day.

Momma always said that the old people are like the seasons when it comes to dying.  They either die in the fall like the leaves on the trees dropping to the ground, or they die in the spring, like the new leaves opening.

Momma knows!

My little helper.

It is Lenten Lunch time at our church.  These occur every Wednesday at our church, First Congregational UCC.  They start at noon and they are free so come and join us at 228 West Evans.  We are an open and affirming church and all are welcome: 6- 60, blind, crippled or crazy!  Happy to meet you!

Nancy Donnelly used to until she passed away and left the chore to me.  She called it her "labour of love."  I sure miss her, but since I am the one with the big kitchen and the equipment, baking bread has fallen to me.  Last Tuesday I had whipped out my 4 batches.

I do have a little helper!

Let me see which side is my good side.

this one?

Or this one?

Some of you may not think that having a 3 year old kid helping in the kitchen is a messy thing, but just look at the benefits to that.  

1.  He is not parked in front of the television or some game system.

2.  His fingernails will get cleaned and he doesn't even know it.

3.  Soon the floor will be wet enough to mop.

4.  And the most important part of all is he is helping grandma.  This little boy loves to come to grandma's house!  And he loves to help.  And it only takes grandma 2 days or so to put things back to the chaos that was her life before this little helper arrived.  

In all fairness, most of my grandkids liked me when they were little.  Of course they grew out of it, but they still tolerate me most of the time.  It is just that the little bitty ones are so easy to amuse.  So I will enjoy this one until he reaches the age where life takes him in a different direction and then we will see what happens.  

Who knows, I may get a puppy.

School lunch

I woke up in the middle of a dream this morning.  It might be more accurate to say "My nightmare woke me up!"  I dreamed it was the first day of school and I was trying to make a check out for school lunches.  I knew I had 5 kids and lunches were $3.29 each, but Patty would not eat meatloaf so I would need to pack her a lunch that day, whatever day that was.  Debbie wanted to take her lunch and she only ate mashed potatoes on home made bread.  Donna, Sam and Susie were happy just to eat.  I was out of cat food and the dogs were barking their heads off about some silly thing or another and I better get out of this bed or I was going to be late for work. I was very relieved to open my eyes and look up at my lavender ceiling and remember that my kids were grown and gone and I was alone here on my acre.  Well, not happy to be alone, but very happy to remember that I had raised my kids and they had raised theirs and school lunches were no longer a daily problem for me to face.  Maybe I was dreaming I was my mother.  God sends me those dreams a lot!

I remember growing up on Strong Street and Mother would be frustrated and she would say "I hope some day you get married and have a bunch of kids and they all behave just like you!"  In later years I was to tell her that the curse worked.  I had  5 kids, just like she did; 1 boy and 4 girls.  I had always thought I was such a sweet little thing growing up, but here were these 5 kids and they were the busiest kids I had ever seen.  What I had done growing up, was called survival and as I look back I guess they were doing the same.

We had run the dirt roads in our bare feet and our idea of fun was a clod fight.
My kids egged the neighbors house.

Jake decided one day to bring his 22 rifle and see how close he could come to the top of my head.
My kids took 10 month old Susie down to Cow Creek to baptize her one night before I got home from work.

I watched a Black Widow spider hatch babies behind the door of the chicken house.
My kids gave the cat a bath.

I smoked Catalpa beans.
They stole the neighbors flowers.

I used to run across the top of the pig sty's at the neighbors house and upset the old hogs.
Don't think the kids topped that one.

We used to spy on Hank Wingate when he milked his goat.
My kids watched Saturday morning cartoons.

Howard Fein used to make his false teeth jump out at me and scare the livin' pee wadding out of me.
My kids cleaned their room by shoving every thing under the bunk beds and pulling the top sheet down to the floor.

So, now these many years later I am still haunted by my mother's curse.  I wonder if I every cursed my kids like that and scarred them for life?  I must have because I had 5 kids on my own and they have produced 8 total.  I have 8 grand kids that sprang directly from my loins (This is not to count the step, adopted and foster) and my grandchildren have given me a total of ...OK, this is where I lose count.  I adopted a grandson who became my son who now has a son that is legally my  grandson, but if he were not my son, this would be my great grandson.  So when you ask me how many grand kids I have I will tell you 20 grand kids and a lot of great grand kids. And it is way to early in the day to start off confused when all I wanted to tell you was about the school lunches.

And there, dear people, is the reason I am screwed up like I am.  It is the curse my mother put on me all those years ago.  She did, before her death, apologize many times and I told her many times that it was quite alright because I have a good life and my kids survived my raising them.  Of course I sometimes hear them recounting the memories of growing up in Hutchinson and Garden City  and I wonder how they survived my raising them!

Sorry, kids, but momma did the best she could with the knowledge she had at that time.  Sam taught me that.

January is about behind me, thank God.

Well, it has been a very rough start for this year.  We lost Pastor Jeannine Lamb right before Christmas.  Her sudden passing threw me into a new low both at church and home.  I spent a lot of time over the holiday with her life partner, Kathy.  That helped me work through it some what.  Of course now comes the work of finding a new pastor.  Kevin Olsen is doing pulpit supply for us until we can find an interim ministry so that takes a load off our shoulders.  Does not make life easier though as there are meetings and more meetings.

Also passing was Rae Flanagan, whom I had gone to church with for years.  Very nice and very classy lady.    Lee Dorsey was the last of the people I had gone to church with and my heart breaks for his beautiful daughter, Bernadette and her husband, Jesse.   I also lost a client, Irene.  On the upside, I got a new great grandson.

Ended the year having a new furnace installed.  House insurance and car insurance both jumped up 25%.  Never had a wreck in my life, but my insurance keeps going up.  Not the social security check though,  That just keeps getting stretched further to pay utilities and buy groceries.  We all know how long this cheap gas is going to last, don't we?

As I look forward to the new year left ahead of me, I can hear the limb rubbing on the back of the house roof and know that is going to need to come down and that means more money.  Car has 105000 miles on it so needs to have all kinds of little things done to it.  I think about just selling and moving into town and that scares me.  When I do that there is no going back to the big house in the country with 2 dogs, a cat and 9 geese.  It is easy to downsize at my age, but up sizing is out of the question.

So I am going to set here in my big house surrounded by all my stuff I have accumulated and think about what is going to happen this coming year.  I have lots of big plans and lots of things I want to do, but time will tell as to what happens.  Who knows, maybe next year I will be the one not here and someone else will be missing me!  That is the fun part of life; not knowing.

So for now, I am going to keep loving all my friends and acquaintances and if one of them falls by the wayside I will know I did my best and if the "fallee" happens to be me, they can shed a tear and know that we parted on the best of terms.

We are not promised tomorrow.  We have only today.

If you wonder where I went...

First was the Church Bazaar at First Congregational United Church of Christ.  That tied in nicely with the Handwoven Holiday at the Vail Hotel, and now I am out in Pueblo West for 4 days at the Jingle Bell Boutique.  And while all that is going on, I am selling like crazy on eBay.  Christmas season is upon us you know.  Sunday will wind up the craft sales and I will be left with just the eBay stuff, but I am making good use of my time.  House taxes and insurance along with the car insurance will pretty well wipe out my meager savings.  That and the fact that my list that I buy for went out the window when it reached 45 recipients explains my poverty.
I decided many years back to just give the kids soap and lotion and maybe a little something personal.  So usually when Santa pulls out of town, my cupboards are bare.  Had a granddaughter call the other day and say she wanted to come for a visit.  Sorry, dear girl, but I am tied up and can not get loose.  I do hate to do that, but I can only be in one place at a time.  Next week is Thanksgiving and then the Weavers Guild meeting and in the meantime I need to get ready for World AIDS Day.  And all the time eBay marches onward.
I do enjoy doing the Jingle Bell Boutique.  I see people I missed at the Vail and others, I just never get the chance to see.  I did not realize that the Jingle Bell has been going on for 37 years right there in Pueblo West.  It has been held in various locations over the years, but it is unique in that each person has thier own specialty.  Like I do the Soap and Lotion.  Helen does the crochet and knit.  Sue does canned fruits, jellies and such.  Mary Jo does breads, toffee and peanut brittle.  Booths, Beech's and Mary Petersen are wood workers.  Marjorie used to do the baskets, but she retired.  Rikki does quilling.  And we have a couple new ones this year, but I forget thier names.  I get to sell my books cause they never had an author before.  Last night they all went to the Hen House for supper, but I could not go cause I have the geese waiting at home, you know.  And the dogs and the neurotic cat.
So just be patient and I will be back into my routine here very soonly.  And I  will have a full report on World AIDS Day happenings here pretty soon.  And, yes Amy, I will get you cookies sent before Christmas.

 

Free Shipping on All Orders of Ink and Toner at officemax.com

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!

******************Sponsor Links******************

When Bret was little........

This is Bret now.  Or at least it was several months ago.  Just every time he comes or goes I remember when he was little.  That was the good old days.  That was when I actually mattered for something besides the occasional  $20 for gas request.  Bret had been a regular visitor in our home since his birth.  As the closest grand son he was also most frequent.  He used to say cute things, like "Grandma!  Let me in! I have too many hands."  "oh, it is such a 'boo-fi-ul' day".  I babysat him as he got older and potty trained the little fellow and taught him to ride a bike.  He would spend weeks at a time with us especially after his mom and dad separated and she remarried.  When he came up for adoption we were the obvious choice.

When Kenny quizzed him about who would be his grandpa if we adopted him, he thought about it for a while and then announced, "Why, I would be my own grandpa!"  And after the adoption he immediately began calling me "mom" and continued calling Kenny "grandpa".  Kenny finally had to explain to him that we had to both be "grandma and grandpa" or "mom and dad."  He opted for the mom and dad one.

His first official act when he came to live with us was to shave off his eyebrow along with the mole over that eye.  Second was to throw a fit in the Library that almost landed me in jail for child abuse when I grabbed his young self up and loaded him in the car and had Shelly and Chris set on him till we got home. They called it attachment disorder and testing the limits and a few other things.  I called it being a spoiled rotten little brat.

Like I said,  he was so cute.  I have pictures of him and the neighbor kid (also an adopted grandson) learning to crawl toward each other,  running naked through the sprinklers, playing "dogs".  They broke the windows in the garage, made a general mess of everything they touched, but they never went to school together.  Skeeter went to town school and Bret caught the bus.

Now school was a complete waste of time for this kid.  I spent more time at the school than he did.  He never turned in homework and there was never a teacher who seemed to think it mattered until the end of the grading period and there were no numbers in his columns.  In the Fourth  grade he made the merit roll.  You could of knocked me over with a feather!  First and only time he ever bothered with academia!  I put him in the Church School in town and he did some better, but once again I was at the school more than he was.  I actually bought the curriculum and got him through the Seventh grade here at home.  I know he studied that 3 months.  His teachers just loved him and he loved them.  It was the whole school thing. Even tried the online school.  Nothing.

So now here he is working at Sprinkles Sewing Center as a certified Technician.  Everybody loves him and he does a really good job, I think.  At least Jerry and Cathy say so.  Sprinkles just opened a shop in Canon City and he and Amanda have added responsibilities there.   Amanda is his girlfriend and she works there also.   They are getting ready to move into their own home.  So, I guess I am not a complete failure since he did survive childhood.  And I survived his childhood.  We lost Kenny when Bret was 12 so that was hard.  Big adjustment for both of us.

As I write this he is in the shower and has been for over 20 minutes.  I am going to have hot water again when he moves out!  That and the light bill is going to plummet.  They buy most of their own food so that is no biggie there.  They do not eat like I eat.  In all fairness, though, Amanda did tell me that she will start eating healthy when she turns 20 so there is hope.  They are taking the deep fat fryer when they move.   

So now you have met 5 of my 6 kids. 

Oh, and he just turned off the water, so all the hot must be gone!  Glad we got rid of that!

I am going to do my sisters next if they will let me.  Course you have already met and are very familiar with Mary.  That just leaves Donna and Dorothy.  I will ask them and let you know!

Grand kids, great grand kids, dogs and ducks abound at my house.

This is what I call two little great grandsons at my house.  These pictures were taken when the son was here a few weeks back.  Those two belong to the grand daughter, September.  The little one is on Sam's lap and the big one is being held still by Great Grandma Lou.  Those kids can move faster than I can blink.  See the little one there has already broken his arm once and healed it up.  He could crawl up on furniture and leap off way before he could walk.  He started walking when he was 9 months old and running at 9 1/2!  The older one was raised on Baby Einstien and I think he started Calculus when he was 3.      

Now these little play pretties belong to the Grandson, Jason.  He in turn belongs to my middle daughter, Dona.  This picture is over a year old, but aren't they little blondies?  The pictures of my kids when they were small shows them all to be very blonde.  Course it helped that my husband, their father was a platinum blond German guy.  Drop dead gorgeous, but that is neither here nor there, so to speak.   Dona was the only one that kept the blonde hair.  She does not use anything, it just stayed blond.  But aren't these little honeys precious?

You met 3 more of my great grand kids back in Longton last summer.  Now understand this and why I do it this way...these are great grandkids that can be traced back directly to my and Earl's blood line.  I got a  ton of grandkids when I count the steps and the step greats would be completely over the top, but those kids have other grandmothers that can rightfully lay claim to them on both sides of the family.  Mine are reduced to just me.  Grandpa has been gone many years, so it is just me left to hold down the fort here, so to speak.  I keep thinking someone of them will be interested in a little of the family history, but so far not much.  So I continue to blog away and have them printed and stuck in a drawer so some day, if some one wonders, there will at least be a tiny peek at my life.  Not so much to see what I did or did not accomplish, but rather so they can see where their roots are planted.

I never dreamed when I ran barefooted down the country roads in Nickerson, Kansas what lay ahead for me, nor behind for that matter.  But now, when I look back I can see it so clearly.  I have become my mother!  Mother had 1 son and 5 daughters.  I ended up with 2 sons and 4 daughters.  Six either way you count.  Mama worked her whole life to raise us kids.  I worked my whole life to raise mine.  She never really got done and neither have I!  She ended up with 13 grand kids, mine total 8.  Then she ended up with 20 greats and I total 7.  So while I was the most prolific of her children, I am whittling the numbers down.

Oh, it is a little early in the morning to think so hard.  It is shaping up to be a very pretty day, so I think I will grab my gloves and head out to do some raking and burning.  But first maybe one more cup of coffee and let me look at pictures for a bit.....life is good!