I'd always thought I'd never been much of a collector of anything but the existence of too many bins of fabric in my sewing room tells another story. I've always loved shopping for fabric and it was the most fun I had when planning a sewing project. Once bought, the actual work had to be done and that wasn't always fun.
When I became interested in quilting, my choices for fabric became much more colorful and, therefor, much more fun to shop for. In the beginning I'd only buy what I needed for the quilt I was planning but then I got into buying ahead of time for future quilts. I have a very nice sewing room in the basement with a nice large closet and in that closet are about 7 bins of fabric. I have no idea about colors or patterns because I haven't looked in there in years. So sad.
When I started cleaning out the sewing room last week, I expected to be able to go through all the bins of fabric but only managed to measure and mark the 2 bins full that weren't in the closet. Now most people might think I have a daunting task ahead of me but I look at it this way. At some point in my life I chose some beautiful fabrics to buy so when I open those bins it will be like Xmas morning. I'll be able to ooh and ahh all over again at their beauty. And, sad as it will be, I'll know that people just like me will be only too happy to buy them cheaply at the yard sale I plan to have. They can store them in bins in their sewing room closets.
Monday, June 27, 2011
Saturday, June 25, 2011
Goodbye Vida
Our family had a memorial service for Aunt Vida today. She had passed away away last January at an advanced age so her passing wasn't really unexpected.
Leigh held the service at his new house so it was nice to have our get-together there, tour the house and meet up with relatives, some of whom I hadn't seen in many years. Some I didn't recognize because I hadn't seen them in 20 years or more. I'm sure they thought I'd become an old hag in those 20 years, too, but I try not to dwell on that thought. Most of us like to think we don't change all that much from when we were young but, believe me, most of us change drastically.
A group of us toured the house when we first arrived and it is really gorgeous. It sits on a large piece of land and the lake is right at the end of the back yard. Cousin David said that the setting was like having a family reunion in a nice park. The inside of the house is huge...4 bedrooms and 4 bathrooms. It's pretty big for 2 people to live in but it's what they want and that's all that matters. I just hope Enid decides to take it a bit easier by hiring some help with the housework.
There were hugs and hello's all over the place, happiness at seeing family I seldom see and happiness at seeing family I'm lucky enough to see more often. This family I married into is a special one and I've always been thankful I'm part of it. Cindy brought her new boyfriend, Don, and he got a good idea of how close our family is. It was the first time we'd met and I liked him immediately. He was friendly and seemed at ease with meeting so many of Cindy's relatives at the same time.
Wayne finally corralled everyone out to the end of the yard where Vida's urn was placed and he spoke a bit about how much she'd been a big part of our lives, mostly in earlier years. He encouraged people to speak about some of their experiences with her and what she'd meant to them. Of course, there were a few tears but mainly it was made known what a kind and accepting woman she had been. Many of us older ones had lived in Vida's house back in the 1950's, welcomed as renters or visitors, staying for months or years before moving to homes of our own. Some of the older blood relatives told funny stories from their childhood in which Vida played a big part.
Vida's 3 sons and daughter were there (Wendell passed away a few years ago) and I hope they took comfort in hearing how much their mother was loved by the rest of us. No-one made mention of what a quiet and unassuming lady she'd been but that was my strongest memory of her. I'd seen in her a very complicated and deep person who was capable of handling whatever life threw her way. When I'd lived in her house, there were many hours we'd had the chance to sit in her kitchen and talk. I was very young (17) and not wise enough then to help her with any of her personal problems but I'll always remember her attitude. She'd do what it took to get by. And it's that strength I'll always associate with Vida.
Soon it was time for the family to say our goodbyes and go our separate ways. Those of us who knew Vida will never forget her and I hope that somehow, somewhere, she smiled down on us today and knew that she'd left behind a lot of people who loved and appreciated her.
Leigh held the service at his new house so it was nice to have our get-together there, tour the house and meet up with relatives, some of whom I hadn't seen in many years. Some I didn't recognize because I hadn't seen them in 20 years or more. I'm sure they thought I'd become an old hag in those 20 years, too, but I try not to dwell on that thought. Most of us like to think we don't change all that much from when we were young but, believe me, most of us change drastically.
A group of us toured the house when we first arrived and it is really gorgeous. It sits on a large piece of land and the lake is right at the end of the back yard. Cousin David said that the setting was like having a family reunion in a nice park. The inside of the house is huge...4 bedrooms and 4 bathrooms. It's pretty big for 2 people to live in but it's what they want and that's all that matters. I just hope Enid decides to take it a bit easier by hiring some help with the housework.
There were hugs and hello's all over the place, happiness at seeing family I seldom see and happiness at seeing family I'm lucky enough to see more often. This family I married into is a special one and I've always been thankful I'm part of it. Cindy brought her new boyfriend, Don, and he got a good idea of how close our family is. It was the first time we'd met and I liked him immediately. He was friendly and seemed at ease with meeting so many of Cindy's relatives at the same time.
Wayne finally corralled everyone out to the end of the yard where Vida's urn was placed and he spoke a bit about how much she'd been a big part of our lives, mostly in earlier years. He encouraged people to speak about some of their experiences with her and what she'd meant to them. Of course, there were a few tears but mainly it was made known what a kind and accepting woman she had been. Many of us older ones had lived in Vida's house back in the 1950's, welcomed as renters or visitors, staying for months or years before moving to homes of our own. Some of the older blood relatives told funny stories from their childhood in which Vida played a big part.
Vida's 3 sons and daughter were there (Wendell passed away a few years ago) and I hope they took comfort in hearing how much their mother was loved by the rest of us. No-one made mention of what a quiet and unassuming lady she'd been but that was my strongest memory of her. I'd seen in her a very complicated and deep person who was capable of handling whatever life threw her way. When I'd lived in her house, there were many hours we'd had the chance to sit in her kitchen and talk. I was very young (17) and not wise enough then to help her with any of her personal problems but I'll always remember her attitude. She'd do what it took to get by. And it's that strength I'll always associate with Vida.
Soon it was time for the family to say our goodbyes and go our separate ways. Those of us who knew Vida will never forget her and I hope that somehow, somewhere, she smiled down on us today and knew that she'd left behind a lot of people who loved and appreciated her.
Clean Spice Cupboard
If you're anything like me, you can go for years and not notice a glaring mistake in your house. One of mine was my spice cupboard. I rarely cook and haven't done so for at least 7 or 8 years so I have no idea why the cupboard was so darned full of spices which I didn't even know how to use.
Once in a while I'd get ambitious and make a big pot of soup or maybe go all out and make a slow cooker meal. At those times, I'd probably go into the spice cupboard and choose a few things that might work in the preparation of the meal. I'm not a good cook so my choices were usually just guesses as to what spices to use. I'd mentally make note of the cluttered shelf and sort of wonder exactly what I had in there but figured I'd look after it some time in the future. The future arrived this morning.
I'd made devilled eggs for a memorial service I'm going to this afternoon for Aunt Vida and went into the cupboard to look for paprika to sprinkle on the top of the eggs. Devilled eggs are my mainstay when taking food to a function because they're easy to make and I can't possible mess them up. I always had paprika before but there was none today. Scrounging through the spices, I came face to face with the fact that most of these spices were hard as rock or of questionable age. Time to clean them out!!
I pulled them all out and sorted them into some I could keep and almost all I could discard. The size of the "discard" pile was sort of embarrassing but I get pretty ruthless when I'm on a cleaning mission so they did, indeed, end up in the garbage.
Now the spice cupboard is kind of bare but neat. There's probably more in there than I need but I think it was a job well done.
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
Is This Really Normal?
I know my granddaughter is going to be fuming if she reads this blog but here it is anyway.
A friend of my daughter was at the Atlanta airport and this is what she saw...a 65 year old balding man dressed in a flowered shirt, denim mini skirt, lace anklets with men's shoes, and wearing a rhinestone barrette in what was left of his hair.
I know it's politically incorrect to find fault with this man but how can any one of us say this is normal? No matter how much we want to fool ourselves, this is aberrant behaviour and we shouldn't have to appease anyone by calling it anything other than that. The man deserves our pity and, yes, our acceptance of his choice of dress but don't let anyone try to tell me that he's got all his faculties.
Now, if a 65 year old lady had been seen in that outfit, she would have drawn just as much attention. Some things are just not normal no matter how much we might want to pretend they are.
A friend of my daughter was at the Atlanta airport and this is what she saw...a 65 year old balding man dressed in a flowered shirt, denim mini skirt, lace anklets with men's shoes, and wearing a rhinestone barrette in what was left of his hair.
I know it's politically incorrect to find fault with this man but how can any one of us say this is normal? No matter how much we want to fool ourselves, this is aberrant behaviour and we shouldn't have to appease anyone by calling it anything other than that. The man deserves our pity and, yes, our acceptance of his choice of dress but don't let anyone try to tell me that he's got all his faculties.
Now, if a 65 year old lady had been seen in that outfit, she would have drawn just as much attention. Some things are just not normal no matter how much we might want to pretend they are.
It Didn't Need Fixing
There is a side to my grandson, Matt, that I've discovered is very much like his Grampa. I learned a long time ago that, no matter how savvy Matt is with the computer, I shouldn't let him touch it. Yesterday my precious boy came up for a visit and somehow remembered me saying that my remote wouldn't turn the T.V. on or off but it worked fine in every other way.
As he fiddled with the remote and T.V., he kept saying, "trust me, Gramma!". I should have known better given all the lifetime experiences I'd had with him. When he was done fiddling, the volume control didn't work and he was having trouble getting a channel.
If he'd been younger, I would have been screaming at him for screwing up my T.V. but he's a man now so I just threatened his life if he didn't fix it. He phoned Shaw Cable and, horrors, used my computer to ask them a question on their codes. Shortly, he was able to return my T.V. to it's previous condition but now the volume display is in a different spot.
I am so thankful that all I have to do is turn the T.V. on and off manually.
As he fiddled with the remote and T.V., he kept saying, "trust me, Gramma!". I should have known better given all the lifetime experiences I'd had with him. When he was done fiddling, the volume control didn't work and he was having trouble getting a channel.
If he'd been younger, I would have been screaming at him for screwing up my T.V. but he's a man now so I just threatened his life if he didn't fix it. He phoned Shaw Cable and, horrors, used my computer to ask them a question on their codes. Shortly, he was able to return my T.V. to it's previous condition but now the volume display is in a different spot.
I am so thankful that all I have to do is turn the T.V. on and off manually.
Sunday, June 19, 2011
Short Shorts
Short shorts on young, slim girls look too revealing (in my humble opinion) but short shorts on females of any age who happen to be grossly overweight look hideous. I saw a sweet looking teenage girl today who had to be close to the 300 lb. mark and she was wearing pale pink plaid short shorts. What was she thinking?
It's tough being overweight and trying to find clothes that don't make you look worse than you feel but some things you just know are not for you. I never had to worry about my weight until I got into my late 20's and that's when it started piling on. I remember wearing a few things I hoped I could get away with but I knew in my heart I was making a mistake. We do know deep inside when we're doing anything wrong and, if we're smart, we'll pay attention to that little voice.
The young girl I saw today obviously didn't listen to her little voice.
It's tough being overweight and trying to find clothes that don't make you look worse than you feel but some things you just know are not for you. I never had to worry about my weight until I got into my late 20's and that's when it started piling on. I remember wearing a few things I hoped I could get away with but I knew in my heart I was making a mistake. We do know deep inside when we're doing anything wrong and, if we're smart, we'll pay attention to that little voice.
The young girl I saw today obviously didn't listen to her little voice.
Saturday, June 18, 2011
The Toy Collection
I've got quite a load of toys at my house for Nolan and, when he's a bit older, Nash. I think I might have spent a grand total of $20 for the whole lot and that includes 3 ride on vehicles. Yard saleing is the answer.
I may have overdone it on the amount of inside toys so I'm going to look them over and decide what can go out in the driveway. Nolan loves his "Bob the Builder" stuff so they might be better left inside so the little people don't get lost. I found a few of them at yard sales today but they're hard to come by.
Right now, there are 3 toy vehicles for Nolan to ride on in my driveway. I only have one myself so he's definitely spoiled. And that's okay!
Friday, June 17, 2011
Father's Day
Early humans knew that the way to choose a mate was to choose one that would be the best person to rear children with. That was an inborn drive necessary to protect and propogate the species. Women today still carry that drive but it's gotten a bit skewed. Maybe we've chosen financial ability or sexual attraction instead of father material.
Women now seem to want a man who will make them happy, with all other considerations secondary. I don't really see anything wrong with this but sometimes a man who makes us happy can be a lousy father. In fact, he might not be mature enough to even want to be a father, hence the number of men who run for the hills when a baby or two arrive.
I certainly lucked out with my husband even though the furthest thing from my mind when I met him was his fathering abilities. But he took to fatherhood like a duck to water, nurturing and teaching his offspring until his final days. Dennis didn't change diapers or bathe babies because that wasn't expected back in the day but he loved to play with his children, often using the play time as a chance to teach them in the process.
This Father's Day my daughters will remember their father as one of the best and they'll always be grateful that he'd been their Dad. Lucky girls!
Women now seem to want a man who will make them happy, with all other considerations secondary. I don't really see anything wrong with this but sometimes a man who makes us happy can be a lousy father. In fact, he might not be mature enough to even want to be a father, hence the number of men who run for the hills when a baby or two arrive.
I certainly lucked out with my husband even though the furthest thing from my mind when I met him was his fathering abilities. But he took to fatherhood like a duck to water, nurturing and teaching his offspring until his final days. Dennis didn't change diapers or bathe babies because that wasn't expected back in the day but he loved to play with his children, often using the play time as a chance to teach them in the process.
This Father's Day my daughters will remember their father as one of the best and they'll always be grateful that he'd been their Dad. Lucky girls!
Thursday, June 16, 2011
Excess Garbage
I'm only allowed to put out one bag of garbage a week and I don't know how families can do this. I rarely cook, rarely buy anything, and still manage to fill my allotted bag every single Wednesday. Then I have one in the laundryroom and one in the yard that sits there until it's full. Since I can't put an extra bag out on garbage day, my good neighbor carts it away for me but what about people who don't have such a neighbor?
When this one bag per household rule came along, I assumed that we'd see garbage bags littering the countryside but I don't think that happened. There's a possibility that some people dispose of their excess garbage in dumpsters rented by various businesses, otherwise I don't know where the heck it goes.
Recycling has been a good idea and it's practiced by most of us so that helps cut down on the amount of garbage bags needed. But what happens when you have company and one bag is not enough? I wonder if we can take it to the dump ourselves and pay a fee? I've taken loads of wood and paint cans to the dump but there was no fee for that, just separate areas where you could drop it.
It surprises me that when I'm in Florida we get daily garbage pickup and there is very little recycling except for pop and beer cans which are sold to a recycling plant.
My plan for a more efficiently run city would be mail delivery and garbage pickup twice a week. Wouldn't that make sense? It won't happen, although I think we might have fewer mail delivery days in the future. The only thing I received in the mail in the past week are sales flyers and I think we could easily do without those every day.
When this one bag per household rule came along, I assumed that we'd see garbage bags littering the countryside but I don't think that happened. There's a possibility that some people dispose of their excess garbage in dumpsters rented by various businesses, otherwise I don't know where the heck it goes.
Recycling has been a good idea and it's practiced by most of us so that helps cut down on the amount of garbage bags needed. But what happens when you have company and one bag is not enough? I wonder if we can take it to the dump ourselves and pay a fee? I've taken loads of wood and paint cans to the dump but there was no fee for that, just separate areas where you could drop it.
It surprises me that when I'm in Florida we get daily garbage pickup and there is very little recycling except for pop and beer cans which are sold to a recycling plant.
My plan for a more efficiently run city would be mail delivery and garbage pickup twice a week. Wouldn't that make sense? It won't happen, although I think we might have fewer mail delivery days in the future. The only thing I received in the mail in the past week are sales flyers and I think we could easily do without those every day.
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
Is It A Him Or A Her?
If a person was born male but now dresses female, has taken a female name, still looks like a male, how do you refer to him...as him or her? I sort of equate this with someone who believes they're Napoleon and wants everyone else to believe it also. Do you join into their fantasy or do you try to dissuade them?
I guess being a transsexual or transvestite has become one of those things that we are now told to accept as normal but, darn it, it just isn't. I really wonder if we do more psychological harm to them by accepting their bizarre behaviour. I can't believe they are anything but mentally ill even though I know that many would not agree with me. I'm pretty open minded (I think) but there's something seriously wrong with a person who wants to portray themselves as one of the opposite sex.
Just as we should never cause harm in any way to a person who believes they are Napoleon, we shouldn't publicly humiliate someone who cross dresses. Most of them have to know just by looking in a mirror that they won't pass inspection so they deserve our compassion if nothing else. I've never heard of a transsexual/transvestite being a threat to anyone so they aren't to be feared.
Do they deserve our pity or our full acceptance? I just don't know.
I guess being a transsexual or transvestite has become one of those things that we are now told to accept as normal but, darn it, it just isn't. I really wonder if we do more psychological harm to them by accepting their bizarre behaviour. I can't believe they are anything but mentally ill even though I know that many would not agree with me. I'm pretty open minded (I think) but there's something seriously wrong with a person who wants to portray themselves as one of the opposite sex.
Just as we should never cause harm in any way to a person who believes they are Napoleon, we shouldn't publicly humiliate someone who cross dresses. Most of them have to know just by looking in a mirror that they won't pass inspection so they deserve our compassion if nothing else. I've never heard of a transsexual/transvestite being a threat to anyone so they aren't to be feared.
Do they deserve our pity or our full acceptance? I just don't know.
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
Swedish Weaving Bee
Faye and Donna came over today for our Swedish weaving and we just worked away without needing help from each other. I think we must be at the top of our game! It's so nice to have this time together with 2 people I've known so long and whose company I enjoy. We talk about family, friends, old times, and new business. We laugh at ourselves and sometimes, I hate to admit it, others.
Cindy stopped by on her way home from work and we all went out on the patio to drink our red berry tea. A nice day!
Nick is coming shortly to cut the back lawn...he ran out of time the other day when he cut the front lawn. He's bringing Nash to keep me company and Nolan is going with his mother to have a haircut. I hope he doesn't lose all his beautiful curls!
I'm lucky to have seen so many relatives today. One of the most important aims in life is to keep close ties with your family because, when all is said and done, family and friends who are as close as family is what matters most.
Cindy stopped by on her way home from work and we all went out on the patio to drink our red berry tea. A nice day!
Nick is coming shortly to cut the back lawn...he ran out of time the other day when he cut the front lawn. He's bringing Nash to keep me company and Nolan is going with his mother to have a haircut. I hope he doesn't lose all his beautiful curls!
I'm lucky to have seen so many relatives today. One of the most important aims in life is to keep close ties with your family because, when all is said and done, family and friends who are as close as family is what matters most.
Monday, June 13, 2011
Nolan's Race Car
Isn't this the cutest thing? I got it for Nolan and Nash at a yard sale on Saturday...$10 and in great condition. Wouldn't Dennis have loved it??
Feeling Old
It makes sense that you feel much older if you're in pain...and you look it, too. My knees have been giving me trouble for a few years now and I just hate how feeble I feel when I can't walk without pain. The left knee was hurting pretty badly, enough to send me to an orthopedic surgeon last year but he said it wasn't bad enough to require surgery. That made me feel like a whimp but that's okay. I is what I is!
All winter the left knee pain would come and go, mostly just twinges now and then but the right knee let me know it was there once in a while, too. A few weeks ago I did some yard work and it wasn't until I came inside that my right knee started screaming. And it screamed every day since then. Yesterday I took one anti-inflamatory pill and my right knee shut up.
I haven't been sleeping well for the past week and I know it was the knee pain that kept waking me up. Last night I took a Tylenol PM, slept for 9 straight hours and woke up feeling 10 years younger. My knee isn't hurting and I've had a good night's sleep.
I do consider myself lucky that my body has held out as well as it has since I never took care of it. If I had it to do over again, I would have realized that my body is what will carry me around all my life and I would have taken damn good care of it. The little I can do now won't erase the hardships I've put it through but it might carry me for a few more years yet. I really do love this time of my life and I just want to exist pain free as much as possible. My mind is at peace and my knees are behaving themselves so life is good!
All winter the left knee pain would come and go, mostly just twinges now and then but the right knee let me know it was there once in a while, too. A few weeks ago I did some yard work and it wasn't until I came inside that my right knee started screaming. And it screamed every day since then. Yesterday I took one anti-inflamatory pill and my right knee shut up.
I haven't been sleeping well for the past week and I know it was the knee pain that kept waking me up. Last night I took a Tylenol PM, slept for 9 straight hours and woke up feeling 10 years younger. My knee isn't hurting and I've had a good night's sleep.
I do consider myself lucky that my body has held out as well as it has since I never took care of it. If I had it to do over again, I would have realized that my body is what will carry me around all my life and I would have taken damn good care of it. The little I can do now won't erase the hardships I've put it through but it might carry me for a few more years yet. I really do love this time of my life and I just want to exist pain free as much as possible. My mind is at peace and my knees are behaving themselves so life is good!
Saturday, June 11, 2011
The Bridesmaids
Kim and I went to see "The Bridesmaids" last night and I thought it was hilarious. Of course, there were lots of sex scenes which, although sometimes vulgar, just added to the hilarity of the film. It had me laughing enough that I wouldn't mind seeing it again.
I don't go to many movies anymore because it's hard for me to sit through anything boring or vicious. I used to love scary movies but they're so filled with blood and gore anymore and not really frightening at all, just stomach turning. So I by far prefer a movie that will make me laugh.
When I was a young girl, my friends and I would actually choose a Saturday movie where we knew there would be boys in the audience. We'd pay our 15-25 cents and enter what really was an architecturally beautiful theatre (the old ones were a work of art) and sit through the movie twice if we felt like it. The bonus was meeting up with some interesting boys while we were there.
I loved the old musicals and mysteries but my favorites were always the scariest ones. They were filled with anti-climaxes that had nothing to do with sex, just good acting and directing. The last movie that gave me that sort of thrill was "Jaws" but I've walked out on a few that resorted to using savagery and bloodshed to scare the audience.
Nowadays, I won't waste my time on a movie unless I'm assured that it will make me laugh. I like to leave the theatre with a smile on my face and a good feeling in my soul.
I don't go to many movies anymore because it's hard for me to sit through anything boring or vicious. I used to love scary movies but they're so filled with blood and gore anymore and not really frightening at all, just stomach turning. So I by far prefer a movie that will make me laugh.
When I was a young girl, my friends and I would actually choose a Saturday movie where we knew there would be boys in the audience. We'd pay our 15-25 cents and enter what really was an architecturally beautiful theatre (the old ones were a work of art) and sit through the movie twice if we felt like it. The bonus was meeting up with some interesting boys while we were there.
I loved the old musicals and mysteries but my favorites were always the scariest ones. They were filled with anti-climaxes that had nothing to do with sex, just good acting and directing. The last movie that gave me that sort of thrill was "Jaws" but I've walked out on a few that resorted to using savagery and bloodshed to scare the audience.
Nowadays, I won't waste my time on a movie unless I'm assured that it will make me laugh. I like to leave the theatre with a smile on my face and a good feeling in my soul.
Friday, June 10, 2011
Re-organizing Nolan's Play Area
My driveway once ran all the way to the back wall of the house but quite a few years ago I got the idea to run a fence across the driveway from the front wall of the house. This gave me a nice area of the yard that was asphalted.
When my grandchildren were little I often put their pool there in the summer but that proved to be a little too hot for their bare feet when the sun shone on it. Then it became my potting area until the old patio table I used there was so rotten I had to dispose of it. It still held it's usefulness because at least my garbage cans couldn't be seen from the street. I also piled some cement blocks along one side in case I ever had a use for them. For the life of me, I can't remember where the heck I got all those cement blocks or what possible use I thought they might be but they're there and they're staying.
Nolan's play toys have been taking up space on the back patio against the deck but that meant there was no good place for me to store the not-in-use patio chairs. Not having a garage means a lot of stuff just gets left out in the elements.
So this morning I went out into that little fenced asphalt area and considered moving the cement blocks up against one end...until I saw all the wood bugs run out from between the cracks. I wasn't about to touch the darned things then. So I stood back and reconsidered my options.
First I pulled the garbage can and the garbage green cart away from the front of the area and dragged the table (a huge folding one that mysteriously appeared in my yard over the winter and I have no idea where it came from) and set it crossways in the driveway against the little fence. That left room in the corner for the broom and dustpan. I put all the possibly usable old flower pots under the table and the garbage can and green cart went against the far corner of the table.
I dragged flower pots from an inconvenient spot to settle nicely in front of a healthy Rose of Sharon that grows against the side fence. Then I repositioned the dock box inbetween the flowers and the cement blocks and put Nolan's toys inside. More potted plants had to be repositioned to allow Nolan's workbench to nestle safely under the lilac bush which I'd trimmed back at the bottom. It ended up looking pretty good and left lots of room for Nolan to ride his bike around on the asphalt which is safely protected by the fence I had long ago foreseen as a darned good idea.
I love it when I get to change things around and it turns out well.
When my grandchildren were little I often put their pool there in the summer but that proved to be a little too hot for their bare feet when the sun shone on it. Then it became my potting area until the old patio table I used there was so rotten I had to dispose of it. It still held it's usefulness because at least my garbage cans couldn't be seen from the street. I also piled some cement blocks along one side in case I ever had a use for them. For the life of me, I can't remember where the heck I got all those cement blocks or what possible use I thought they might be but they're there and they're staying.
Nolan's play toys have been taking up space on the back patio against the deck but that meant there was no good place for me to store the not-in-use patio chairs. Not having a garage means a lot of stuff just gets left out in the elements.
So this morning I went out into that little fenced asphalt area and considered moving the cement blocks up against one end...until I saw all the wood bugs run out from between the cracks. I wasn't about to touch the darned things then. So I stood back and reconsidered my options.
First I pulled the garbage can and the garbage green cart away from the front of the area and dragged the table (a huge folding one that mysteriously appeared in my yard over the winter and I have no idea where it came from) and set it crossways in the driveway against the little fence. That left room in the corner for the broom and dustpan. I put all the possibly usable old flower pots under the table and the garbage can and green cart went against the far corner of the table.
I dragged flower pots from an inconvenient spot to settle nicely in front of a healthy Rose of Sharon that grows against the side fence. Then I repositioned the dock box inbetween the flowers and the cement blocks and put Nolan's toys inside. More potted plants had to be repositioned to allow Nolan's workbench to nestle safely under the lilac bush which I'd trimmed back at the bottom. It ended up looking pretty good and left lots of room for Nolan to ride his bike around on the asphalt which is safely protected by the fence I had long ago foreseen as a darned good idea.
I love it when I get to change things around and it turns out well.
Thursday, June 09, 2011
Nolan Tired
The only time Nolan slows down and sits still long enough for me to get a good picture is when he's tired. Daddy Nick came to pick him up and I was able to get some great pictures of a sleepy Nolan with his Daddy.
When I was younger I don't think I ever thought beyond being a Grandmother and having Nolan has been like finding a second prize in the Cracker Jack box. He and his baby brother, Nash, are special gifts that I never even considered might come my way but I'm happy as pig in poo that they did.
I don't have the energy I did when his father was his age but I can still shower him with love and that's what is important.
Evening With Nolan
These are the best pictures I could get of Nolan while he was at play. The rest were either blurs or photos of him looking down and examining whatever he was playing with. Every time he'd look right at me with his beautiful little face I'd grab the camera but, by the time I was ready, he'd be gone.
The flowers are there just because they're pretty!
Fight or Flight
I have a strong fight or flight response to unpleasantness. It's about 95% flight with a weak 5% fight. I steer very clear of anything that might be unpleasant and live my life in a safe little bubble as much as I possibly can.
I hear stories of families with active and everlasting disagreements and I wonder how they can stand to be around each other. Apparently some people thrive on the excitement of conflict but I'm not one of them.
I find my excitement in situations where everyone is harmonious and having a good time, not bickering. If you'd known me years ago you wouldn't believe that because I bickered with my husband all of the time...he tended to ignore me but that was a huge part of the problem. I felt the only way to get his attention was to be confrontational. Stupid, right?
These days I have no-one I care to argue with and that's a great relief. Being in a state of anger and disharmony is a terrible drain on your strength and leaves very little room for true happiness. I'm not saying that my way of walking away from problem people is the right way but it is my way and has worked quite well for me for a long time.
My husband passed away almost 6 years ago and the last time he said something that would have had me fiercely retaliating was just before he passed away. My newly formed instinct was to retreat and gather my thoughts and that's what I did. It was the right thing to do. I'll probably never forget his words but I'll always be glad that I kept my mouth shut at that time.
I have so much in my life now that is positive and easy to live with so it's easy for me to run away when faced with unpleasantness. I just refuse to deal with it anymore. My daughter, Kim's, philosophy on life is to LIVE, LOVE, LAUGH and I agree completely. There's no place or time for unhappiness if we can avoid it at all.
I hear stories of families with active and everlasting disagreements and I wonder how they can stand to be around each other. Apparently some people thrive on the excitement of conflict but I'm not one of them.
I find my excitement in situations where everyone is harmonious and having a good time, not bickering. If you'd known me years ago you wouldn't believe that because I bickered with my husband all of the time...he tended to ignore me but that was a huge part of the problem. I felt the only way to get his attention was to be confrontational. Stupid, right?
These days I have no-one I care to argue with and that's a great relief. Being in a state of anger and disharmony is a terrible drain on your strength and leaves very little room for true happiness. I'm not saying that my way of walking away from problem people is the right way but it is my way and has worked quite well for me for a long time.
My husband passed away almost 6 years ago and the last time he said something that would have had me fiercely retaliating was just before he passed away. My newly formed instinct was to retreat and gather my thoughts and that's what I did. It was the right thing to do. I'll probably never forget his words but I'll always be glad that I kept my mouth shut at that time.
I have so much in my life now that is positive and easy to live with so it's easy for me to run away when faced with unpleasantness. I just refuse to deal with it anymore. My daughter, Kim's, philosophy on life is to LIVE, LOVE, LAUGH and I agree completely. There's no place or time for unhappiness if we can avoid it at all.
Wednesday, June 08, 2011
Ontario Website for Registered Sex Offenders
I read in the newspaper this morning that Ontario is considering creating a website listing the names and addresses of registered sex offenders. At present, Alberta is the only province in Canada that has a website listing names and photos of registered sex offenders but it doesn't list their addresses.
Of course, there are naysayers who think this is a terrible invasion of the sex offenders privacy but who the hell cares? If you know that a sex offender lives nearby you will take more precautions. We all like to bury our heads in the sand and think that none of our neighbors could be convicted criminals but that's very unwise.
A case in point...my daughter lives in Florida where they do have a registered sex offender website and it does give the city or town where the offender lives. My daughter happened to check the site out one day and discovered that one of the men listed was the father of a friend of her young daughter. Suppose the little girl invited my granddaughter to a sleepover at her house and my daughter innocently let her go? This is the main reason why we need a website with information on sex offenders living in our area.
Sex offenders do have some rights but they shouldn't supercede the rights of the innocent. Citizens have a right to know who is unsafe to be around. Our children have a divine right to be protected at all costs. If a website upsets a registered sex offender then they should have exerted some self control and not offended in the first place.
I hope Ontario gains this website and I'll bet quite a few people will be surprised at who will be featured on it.
Of course, there are naysayers who think this is a terrible invasion of the sex offenders privacy but who the hell cares? If you know that a sex offender lives nearby you will take more precautions. We all like to bury our heads in the sand and think that none of our neighbors could be convicted criminals but that's very unwise.
A case in point...my daughter lives in Florida where they do have a registered sex offender website and it does give the city or town where the offender lives. My daughter happened to check the site out one day and discovered that one of the men listed was the father of a friend of her young daughter. Suppose the little girl invited my granddaughter to a sleepover at her house and my daughter innocently let her go? This is the main reason why we need a website with information on sex offenders living in our area.
Sex offenders do have some rights but they shouldn't supercede the rights of the innocent. Citizens have a right to know who is unsafe to be around. Our children have a divine right to be protected at all costs. If a website upsets a registered sex offender then they should have exerted some self control and not offended in the first place.
I hope Ontario gains this website and I'll bet quite a few people will be surprised at who will be featured on it.
Weiner or Wiener
Does it really matter? New York state representative Wiener or Weiner (both spellings show up on internet searches) has disgraced himself and his party by sending sexually explicit photos of his private parts to young women acquaintances. I just don't understand how a man of his position could take the chance of public humiliation by doing such an utterly stupid thing. His career has just gone down the tubes because this very ugly man thought some women half his age would be thrilled to see pictures of his yoohoo.
Wiener (the name is so hilariously appropriate) joins the group of men known as flashers. These are men who are so proud of their yoohoo that they like to display it in public. I've always wondered what their motive is for doing this. Is it really misplaced pride in a private appendage or do they just get a big kick out of doing something socially unacceptable?
In any case, Wiener is now considered a ridiculous character who can never be taken seriously again. Not too promising for anyone but sure death for a politician.
Wiener (the name is so hilariously appropriate) joins the group of men known as flashers. These are men who are so proud of their yoohoo that they like to display it in public. I've always wondered what their motive is for doing this. Is it really misplaced pride in a private appendage or do they just get a big kick out of doing something socially unacceptable?
In any case, Wiener is now considered a ridiculous character who can never be taken seriously again. Not too promising for anyone but sure death for a politician.
Tuesday, June 07, 2011
Nick is 27
It seems that all my life I looked forward to being a grandmother. Being a mother held too many responsibilities but I just knew that when I was a grandmother it would be fun all the way...and it has been, mainly.
Kim and Brian tried for a couple of years to get pregnant without success and then one evening they came to our house for a visit. I can still see them sitting there all aglow and then came the words we'd waited so long to hear. They were pregnant. I cried with a happiness I didn't realize was so intense until I found out that my very first grandchild was on the way.
Nick was born on June 7, 1984 and weighed 11 lbs., 1 1/2 oz. Kim was an average sized woman but she had previously tried fertility drugs a while before becoming pregnant and I always said the Nick was really 2 babies wrapped in one. He was gorgeous from day 1. I loved him with all my heart from the moment he was born and that has never changed over the past 27 years. I will love him forever.
Becoming a grandmother never made me feel old but, if anything, younger at heart. I had a whole new little life to follow from babyhood to adulthood and Nick has been an exceptionally fine person every second of those years.
Nick is a father himself now, with 2 little sons, Nolan and Nash. Nolan looks just like his Daddy. So often, when I look at Nolan, it takes me back 25 years to when his father was the same age and I smile at the sweet memories. Yes, being a grandmother and now a greatgrandmother has brought me some of the best memories I hold dear.
Seven more grandchildren followed over the years and each holds a special place in my heart. There are no favorites because I love each and every one of them completely. I'm not sure they understand that...maybe Nick does now that he has children of his own, though. You don't love any one more than the others but always in slightly different ways. Each child is unique and so is your love for them.
My Nick is special because he was the first and he's continued to be special just because he's my Nicholas.
Kim and Brian tried for a couple of years to get pregnant without success and then one evening they came to our house for a visit. I can still see them sitting there all aglow and then came the words we'd waited so long to hear. They were pregnant. I cried with a happiness I didn't realize was so intense until I found out that my very first grandchild was on the way.
Nick was born on June 7, 1984 and weighed 11 lbs., 1 1/2 oz. Kim was an average sized woman but she had previously tried fertility drugs a while before becoming pregnant and I always said the Nick was really 2 babies wrapped in one. He was gorgeous from day 1. I loved him with all my heart from the moment he was born and that has never changed over the past 27 years. I will love him forever.
Becoming a grandmother never made me feel old but, if anything, younger at heart. I had a whole new little life to follow from babyhood to adulthood and Nick has been an exceptionally fine person every second of those years.
Nick is a father himself now, with 2 little sons, Nolan and Nash. Nolan looks just like his Daddy. So often, when I look at Nolan, it takes me back 25 years to when his father was the same age and I smile at the sweet memories. Yes, being a grandmother and now a greatgrandmother has brought me some of the best memories I hold dear.
Seven more grandchildren followed over the years and each holds a special place in my heart. There are no favorites because I love each and every one of them completely. I'm not sure they understand that...maybe Nick does now that he has children of his own, though. You don't love any one more than the others but always in slightly different ways. Each child is unique and so is your love for them.
My Nick is special because he was the first and he's continued to be special just because he's my Nicholas.
Dogs
I have 2 daughter with dogs that I love very much...my third daughter's dog is just a bit too wild for me. Dog owners really and truly love their dogs almost like children but with the understanding that these "children" will remain and be welcome to the death.
Shelley posted a picture of her dog, Buddy, on facebook and stated that she really, really loves him. He's the offspring of her 2 previous dogs who were both excellent pets and loved just as much as Buddy. Buddy's father, Monty, was an incredible yellow Lab with a gentle giant personality. Buddy's mother, Karina, came late to the family as an adoptee and she was one of the most gorgeous, almost white, yellow Labs. She, too, was a gentle soul but with a dignity that good old Monty didn't quite possess. So Buddy comes from good stock!
Kim's dog, Bailey, has always been one of my favorites because she is a real friend. Jack Russels aren't the best choice for anyone who wants a calm dog but Bailey only gets excited when a new person comes into the room. She's the epitome of a social animal. Bailey isn't her old self yet since her roommate, Baker passed away last week but she'll soon come around. Bailey is the kind of dog who will trail behind you and curl up at your feet no matter where you go. She shows her love every second of the day and I know this wonderful little dog will help Kim get over losing Baker.
Dogs have been called man's best friend and not without good reason. When we take them into our homes, we know it's for life and that they'll bond with us and be our companion as long as they live. As pets, cats can't compare. Cats are too independant whereas dogs want only to be by our side. It's impossible for a cat to learn it's place as an underling whereas a dog relishes being just that.
I almost believe that dogs were put on this earth just to be companions to man. It's as though this position was deliberately made for them, knowing how much pleasure it would give both of us. Whether this is true or not, I'm so thankful for Bailey and Buddy and all the wonderful dogs just like them. They've made our lives better by their presence.
Shelley posted a picture of her dog, Buddy, on facebook and stated that she really, really loves him. He's the offspring of her 2 previous dogs who were both excellent pets and loved just as much as Buddy. Buddy's father, Monty, was an incredible yellow Lab with a gentle giant personality. Buddy's mother, Karina, came late to the family as an adoptee and she was one of the most gorgeous, almost white, yellow Labs. She, too, was a gentle soul but with a dignity that good old Monty didn't quite possess. So Buddy comes from good stock!
Kim's dog, Bailey, has always been one of my favorites because she is a real friend. Jack Russels aren't the best choice for anyone who wants a calm dog but Bailey only gets excited when a new person comes into the room. She's the epitome of a social animal. Bailey isn't her old self yet since her roommate, Baker passed away last week but she'll soon come around. Bailey is the kind of dog who will trail behind you and curl up at your feet no matter where you go. She shows her love every second of the day and I know this wonderful little dog will help Kim get over losing Baker.
Dogs have been called man's best friend and not without good reason. When we take them into our homes, we know it's for life and that they'll bond with us and be our companion as long as they live. As pets, cats can't compare. Cats are too independant whereas dogs want only to be by our side. It's impossible for a cat to learn it's place as an underling whereas a dog relishes being just that.
I almost believe that dogs were put on this earth just to be companions to man. It's as though this position was deliberately made for them, knowing how much pleasure it would give both of us. Whether this is true or not, I'm so thankful for Bailey and Buddy and all the wonderful dogs just like them. They've made our lives better by their presence.
Monday, June 06, 2011
Separate Schools
It really irks me that we allow separate schools in Canada. There should be only public schools where children of all faiths can come together and learn about each other. How better to promote understanding and acceptance?
In this city we have a Christian basketball league and also a Muslim one. Until recently the Muslim league was restricted to Muslims only. I have no idea who is allowed to join the Christian league. This sounds barbaric to me because religion is supposed to teach brotherly love and not "love your brother only if he practices the same religion that you do".
Wars are fought over religion. People who marry outside their faith are shunned. Isn't it time to bring people of all religions (or lack of) together outside of their church and stop this segregation that only causes misunderstanding and misconceptions? It makes me wonder how many more years or centuries or millenniums will pass beofre we are one people. Or will it never happen?
Religion is big business. It is to each religion's advantage to keep their followers separate because, if they're allowed to intermingle too much, they might get too many ideas. Intermingling just might make them open their minds and think for themselves. One of the things that turned me against organized religion was how you are encouraged to frown on any but your own.
I went to a public school as a child and if any of my classmates were other than Protestant, I didn't know or care. That's the way it should be and that's why we should not have separate schools. It only promotes further separation.
The Separate School Board in our city refused to allow their children to be bussed to school with public school children. It would have resulted in great monetary savings for the public tax payers because often children who lived on the same block were picked up by different buses. How frightening for children of different religions to be able to sit next to each other going to and from school!!
I've never understood the need for churches anyway. If you have a belief in god, why do you have to reach him through an intermediary? Is it the same god that is worshipped by religions other than your own? Why do we need separate religions if it is? And, if it is the same god, why do we need separate churches and separate schools? And why do different religions follow different rules? Could it be that each religion has been designed by man instead of god? A lot of questions, I know, but I'm not under the thumb of any religion and therefore my mind is open to wonder about inconsistencies.
I doubt very much that religion will lose it's power in the next few hundred years but the day will come, I hope, when we won't be separated by man made barriers and can co-habit with each other on equal footing. Church leaders are not going to make that easy.
In this city we have a Christian basketball league and also a Muslim one. Until recently the Muslim league was restricted to Muslims only. I have no idea who is allowed to join the Christian league. This sounds barbaric to me because religion is supposed to teach brotherly love and not "love your brother only if he practices the same religion that you do".
Wars are fought over religion. People who marry outside their faith are shunned. Isn't it time to bring people of all religions (or lack of) together outside of their church and stop this segregation that only causes misunderstanding and misconceptions? It makes me wonder how many more years or centuries or millenniums will pass beofre we are one people. Or will it never happen?
Religion is big business. It is to each religion's advantage to keep their followers separate because, if they're allowed to intermingle too much, they might get too many ideas. Intermingling just might make them open their minds and think for themselves. One of the things that turned me against organized religion was how you are encouraged to frown on any but your own.
I went to a public school as a child and if any of my classmates were other than Protestant, I didn't know or care. That's the way it should be and that's why we should not have separate schools. It only promotes further separation.
The Separate School Board in our city refused to allow their children to be bussed to school with public school children. It would have resulted in great monetary savings for the public tax payers because often children who lived on the same block were picked up by different buses. How frightening for children of different religions to be able to sit next to each other going to and from school!!
I've never understood the need for churches anyway. If you have a belief in god, why do you have to reach him through an intermediary? Is it the same god that is worshipped by religions other than your own? Why do we need separate religions if it is? And, if it is the same god, why do we need separate churches and separate schools? And why do different religions follow different rules? Could it be that each religion has been designed by man instead of god? A lot of questions, I know, but I'm not under the thumb of any religion and therefore my mind is open to wonder about inconsistencies.
I doubt very much that religion will lose it's power in the next few hundred years but the day will come, I hope, when we won't be separated by man made barriers and can co-habit with each other on equal footing. Church leaders are not going to make that easy.
Sunday, June 05, 2011
Backing Up
I'm used to idiots who will drive past a car that's backing up towards them because they figure their car will protect them from injury but why, why, why do people casually walk past a backing up car? Yesterday I was in the grocery store parking lot and trying to back out and leave but it took forever because I had to back up by inches. People continued to stroll past me with no thought to the fact that a car driver can't have eyes everywhere.
A few years ago, a lady and her 13 year old daughter did just that in a store parking lot and a car backed over the girl and killed her. It angered me that even parents with babies in strollers were walking past my car as I was backing up. What are they thinking? My instincts when seeing a car trying to back out of a parking spot was to draw near to the side and pull my child against me so that there was no chance we'd be hit but these idiots deliberately put their children in danger. Remember it was a nervous old lady trying to back up and there's always a possibility of a driver accidently stepping on the gas instead of the brake when they are nervous.
I see this all the time but yesterday was my worst experience because it took me forever to pull clear of passing pedestrians. I try to find a spot where I can drive through to the facing parking spot so that I can just go forward when I'm leaving but that's not always available.
No matter how slowly I backed up, if an idiot walked behind my car and was hit, I'd be the one charged. Of course, the idiot could be killed...legally in the right but still dead.
A few years ago, a lady and her 13 year old daughter did just that in a store parking lot and a car backed over the girl and killed her. It angered me that even parents with babies in strollers were walking past my car as I was backing up. What are they thinking? My instincts when seeing a car trying to back out of a parking spot was to draw near to the side and pull my child against me so that there was no chance we'd be hit but these idiots deliberately put their children in danger. Remember it was a nervous old lady trying to back up and there's always a possibility of a driver accidently stepping on the gas instead of the brake when they are nervous.
I see this all the time but yesterday was my worst experience because it took me forever to pull clear of passing pedestrians. I try to find a spot where I can drive through to the facing parking spot so that I can just go forward when I'm leaving but that's not always available.
No matter how slowly I backed up, if an idiot walked behind my car and was hit, I'd be the one charged. Of course, the idiot could be killed...legally in the right but still dead.
Saturday, June 04, 2011
Saturday Morning
It's Saturday morning and the skies are seriously darkening as I type. This is the time I like to watch home improvement shows on T.V. but none seem to interest me this morning. It seems a big thing nowadays is to put your laundryroom on the second floor where the bedrooms usually are. I would much more approve of a main floor laundryroom so I could attend to the laundry and carry on with daily life on the same floor instead of running up and down stairs.
I do enjoy these programs, though, because they give me all sorts of ideas for things I can do or could have done. I'm not about to do anything too drastic with this house now because it won't be mine in a few years and the new owners can do as they please. I'm relatively content with the status quo with only a few changes in mind.
I'd thought of maybe going yard saleing this morning but the impending rain has put a stop to that so I guess it will be Swedish weaving. I've neglected Nicole's afghan for the last few days and it's time to get busy on it. One of these days I'm going to tackle my sewing room, too, and sort out things (mainly fabric) for a yard sale of my own.
Now I'm hearing the rumble of thunder. I've always been nervous about thunder and lightening because my grandmother told me a horror story about a bolt of lightening coming straight through an open window of her parent's house and starting a fire. I'm not so nervous in a closed up house but hate it when the lightening bursts close by. It always amazed me that my dog, Corky, had no fear of thunder and lightening but was terrified of the sound of firecrackers. My guess is that one of his previous owners scared him with a firecracker and he never forgot.
We're all the sum product of everything we've experienced our whole lives and it's wonderful how we can rearrange our experiences so that they don't ruin us. It's all in the attitude, isn't it? Just another way of saying, "make lemonade out of lemons". That's the attitude I've chosen.
I do enjoy these programs, though, because they give me all sorts of ideas for things I can do or could have done. I'm not about to do anything too drastic with this house now because it won't be mine in a few years and the new owners can do as they please. I'm relatively content with the status quo with only a few changes in mind.
I'd thought of maybe going yard saleing this morning but the impending rain has put a stop to that so I guess it will be Swedish weaving. I've neglected Nicole's afghan for the last few days and it's time to get busy on it. One of these days I'm going to tackle my sewing room, too, and sort out things (mainly fabric) for a yard sale of my own.
Now I'm hearing the rumble of thunder. I've always been nervous about thunder and lightening because my grandmother told me a horror story about a bolt of lightening coming straight through an open window of her parent's house and starting a fire. I'm not so nervous in a closed up house but hate it when the lightening bursts close by. It always amazed me that my dog, Corky, had no fear of thunder and lightening but was terrified of the sound of firecrackers. My guess is that one of his previous owners scared him with a firecracker and he never forgot.
We're all the sum product of everything we've experienced our whole lives and it's wonderful how we can rearrange our experiences so that they don't ruin us. It's all in the attitude, isn't it? Just another way of saying, "make lemonade out of lemons". That's the attitude I've chosen.
Friday, June 03, 2011
Bobba
I used to call my grandfather Bobba. It probably was how I said Grampa when I was a baby and my family encouraged it because it sounded cute. I didn't much like it and, as a teenager, became embarrassed if an outsider heard me say it.
Bobba, whose real name was Patrick but always known as Paddy, was born on June 3, 1881 in Ireland. At some point he emigrated to Canada and found himself living in Hamilton, Ontario. As far as I know, he had no family here so it must have been lonely for him. He met my grandmother, Theresa, and married her some time around 1920. Nan, as I called her, was 13 years younger than him but she was a widow with 2 children, although only one lived with her.
Nan came from a staunch Protestant family and Bobba was Catholic. I'm sure there were many family fights about that but he was a good man and a hard worker who helped raise my mother as his own. Nan and Bobba had another daughter soon after their marriage. You know, I was told they married but never heard anything about an anniversary. Hmmm! Now I'm wondering!
Bobba wasn't a stupid man but he'd never learned to read or write, probably having to leave school (if he ever went at all) and go to work. It wasn't uncommon for a boy born in 1881 to not attend school. Nan would read the newspaper to him every night after dinner, a nice thing for her to do and an indication that Bobba took an interest in the news even though he'd had little or no schooling.
Bobba worked as a city garbage man, one who pushed a cart along the road and swept the curbside. As a child, I was slightly embarrassed about his occupation and once even pretended I didn't see him as I passed him at work. I've always been ashamed of that. Teenagers often become embarrassed over the slightest thing and I was no exception.
He worked until his late 70's because City Hall didn't know his true age. I'm sure he lied about it when he applied for the job, knowing a younger man would more likely be hired. I remember when he finally had to retire and he was given the choice of a regular pension or a lump sum. My grandmother insisted on the lump sum which amounted to $800, a lot of money in those days.
Bobba was a weekend drinker, sweet and gentle all week long but drunk and argumentative from Friday night to Sunday night. I lived with them so I dreaded weekends because of this. It instilled in me a lifelong determination to never, ever marry a heavy drinking man and I never did. Dennis was a social drinker on a minor scale.
When I was a little girl, Bobba would walk me down to the bayfront and we'd board one of the day cruise boats. We'd sit quietly and watch the teenagers dance, me hoping I could grow up fast and dance with them. By the time I was a teenager, the cruise boats were still there but no dancing was allowed. Darn!
Bobba wasn't my blood grandfather but he played the part, or tried to. I was headstrong and not too nice to him as I grew up because I felt I couldn't respect a man who was drunk every weekend. It colored how I felt about a man who, when sober, was a fine person but, when drunk, criticized me constantly. I only learned to value him after he passed away.
Bobba was a big man, not fat, but tall and broad even at 82. His end came suddenly and sadly because he wasn't sick. He'd been waiting on the front steps for my mother to bring my sister for a visit but, when they didn't arrive, he stood up to go inside the house and lost his balance. He fell backwards and hit his head on the concrete sidewalk. He died in the hospital a few hours later.
Bobba died in 1963 when I was 23 years old, married with 2 children. I had lived with him since my birth right up until I married at 17 so it was like a part of me had been ripped away. It was so hard to accept that my larger than life grandfather wasn't there anymore.
It's been 44 years since his death and he remains an important person in my life. I miss him and wish he were here so I could ask all the questions of him that I never cared to ask when he was alive. I wish I could tell him I appreciate everything he did for me. I wish there was some way to let him know I love him. Too often we wait too long, don't we?
Bobba, whose real name was Patrick but always known as Paddy, was born on June 3, 1881 in Ireland. At some point he emigrated to Canada and found himself living in Hamilton, Ontario. As far as I know, he had no family here so it must have been lonely for him. He met my grandmother, Theresa, and married her some time around 1920. Nan, as I called her, was 13 years younger than him but she was a widow with 2 children, although only one lived with her.
Nan came from a staunch Protestant family and Bobba was Catholic. I'm sure there were many family fights about that but he was a good man and a hard worker who helped raise my mother as his own. Nan and Bobba had another daughter soon after their marriage. You know, I was told they married but never heard anything about an anniversary. Hmmm! Now I'm wondering!
Bobba wasn't a stupid man but he'd never learned to read or write, probably having to leave school (if he ever went at all) and go to work. It wasn't uncommon for a boy born in 1881 to not attend school. Nan would read the newspaper to him every night after dinner, a nice thing for her to do and an indication that Bobba took an interest in the news even though he'd had little or no schooling.
Bobba worked as a city garbage man, one who pushed a cart along the road and swept the curbside. As a child, I was slightly embarrassed about his occupation and once even pretended I didn't see him as I passed him at work. I've always been ashamed of that. Teenagers often become embarrassed over the slightest thing and I was no exception.
He worked until his late 70's because City Hall didn't know his true age. I'm sure he lied about it when he applied for the job, knowing a younger man would more likely be hired. I remember when he finally had to retire and he was given the choice of a regular pension or a lump sum. My grandmother insisted on the lump sum which amounted to $800, a lot of money in those days.
Bobba was a weekend drinker, sweet and gentle all week long but drunk and argumentative from Friday night to Sunday night. I lived with them so I dreaded weekends because of this. It instilled in me a lifelong determination to never, ever marry a heavy drinking man and I never did. Dennis was a social drinker on a minor scale.
When I was a little girl, Bobba would walk me down to the bayfront and we'd board one of the day cruise boats. We'd sit quietly and watch the teenagers dance, me hoping I could grow up fast and dance with them. By the time I was a teenager, the cruise boats were still there but no dancing was allowed. Darn!
Bobba wasn't my blood grandfather but he played the part, or tried to. I was headstrong and not too nice to him as I grew up because I felt I couldn't respect a man who was drunk every weekend. It colored how I felt about a man who, when sober, was a fine person but, when drunk, criticized me constantly. I only learned to value him after he passed away.
Bobba was a big man, not fat, but tall and broad even at 82. His end came suddenly and sadly because he wasn't sick. He'd been waiting on the front steps for my mother to bring my sister for a visit but, when they didn't arrive, he stood up to go inside the house and lost his balance. He fell backwards and hit his head on the concrete sidewalk. He died in the hospital a few hours later.
Bobba died in 1963 when I was 23 years old, married with 2 children. I had lived with him since my birth right up until I married at 17 so it was like a part of me had been ripped away. It was so hard to accept that my larger than life grandfather wasn't there anymore.
It's been 44 years since his death and he remains an important person in my life. I miss him and wish he were here so I could ask all the questions of him that I never cared to ask when he was alive. I wish I could tell him I appreciate everything he did for me. I wish there was some way to let him know I love him. Too often we wait too long, don't we?
More of Nolan
These are pictures of my happy little boy as he's winding down and ready for sleep. Sleep probably arrived as his Mommy and Grandma were driving him home to his own house.
Evening With Nolan
Nolan's Mommy is practicing for a play she's in at her church so I got to spend a few hours last evening with my favorite 23 month old greatgrandson. He behaved absolutely perfectly as he always does and he was a joy to have around the whole time he was here.
If I have one complaint, it's that I took about a hundred pictures of him and most were of his back as he walked away or of his head deep down in concentration with one of his toys. I desperately wanted to capture that sweet face and gorgeous eyes in a photo.
Nolan loves his cars and spent pretty well the whole time in play and using his imagination with them. I'd really love to know why little boys are so fascinated with cars and little girls prefer dolls. Maybe it's what we provide for them and steer them towards.
Nolan arrived at 6:30 P.M. which is just a half hour before his bedtime but I'd been given permission to let him stay awake as long as he wanted. He finally started to crash at 8:30 but those gorgeous blue eyes remained mostly open until his Mommy arrived at 9:30 and he greeted her with a huge smile and hug. All evening I'd gotten lots of smiles but not one hug. I guess mommy's are preferred to gg's.
He chattered away to me in some mysterious language that I didn't always understand but he never became frustrated, just wandered off to find a toy he'd momentarily misplaced. It will be wonderful to have him speak so that I can understand him but that's not too far away. Babies grow up so fast and it's important to cherish each step of the way and not wish those baby years gone too soon.
I still see his Daddy in that dear little face and it brings back memories of when he was that age. Nolan is his own self, though, and I love him immensely. I think he'll grow up to be a very intelligent but cheerful soul because that's all I've seen with him so far. He's pretty well perfect.
Thursday, June 02, 2011
Postal Strike...Who Cares?
There is a postal strike threatening us but most of us don't feel the slightest bit threatened. I can't remember the last time I mailed a letter to someone because I'm an e-mail queen. I sell hardly anything on Ebay while I'm in Canada because the shipping cost is way too high already. My bills are paid either by automatic withdrawal from the bank account or online and my pension money goes into my account automatically. Very little impact will be felt by me during a postal strike unless I'd miss all those dumb store flyers in the mailbox. I won't.
I feel a bit bad for the postal employees because they are darned well paid for a service that is gradually becoming obsolete. Maybe it isn't a good idea for them to be striking for higher wages and benefits when we're mostly doing quite well without their services. If I were them, I'd be hoping that I could hang on to my job and not do something to cause layoffs.
This is a world in which many previously secure jobs are becoming obsolete. When I was in high school, I used to think I wanted to be a stenographer but today you can speak into a machine that puts your words in print. Bookkeepers use complex computer programs rather than math skills. Factories use more computerized equipment now than manpower. Milk and bread home deliverymen long ago had to change their career paths.
As the world changes, whether it's for the better or worse, we need to adjust our previously held convictions and realize that we must change with it. If a mailperson is mainly delivering unwanted advertisements to homes then they should worry that their well paid jobs just might be at risk. It's inevitable that door to door mail delivery will soon become a thing of the past.
I feel a bit bad for the postal employees because they are darned well paid for a service that is gradually becoming obsolete. Maybe it isn't a good idea for them to be striking for higher wages and benefits when we're mostly doing quite well without their services. If I were them, I'd be hoping that I could hang on to my job and not do something to cause layoffs.
This is a world in which many previously secure jobs are becoming obsolete. When I was in high school, I used to think I wanted to be a stenographer but today you can speak into a machine that puts your words in print. Bookkeepers use complex computer programs rather than math skills. Factories use more computerized equipment now than manpower. Milk and bread home deliverymen long ago had to change their career paths.
As the world changes, whether it's for the better or worse, we need to adjust our previously held convictions and realize that we must change with it. If a mailperson is mainly delivering unwanted advertisements to homes then they should worry that their well paid jobs just might be at risk. It's inevitable that door to door mail delivery will soon become a thing of the past.
To Do List
No, not for me to do but for my good, old handyman! I called him this morning, assuming he was back from his trip to England and he was. I asked him when he was going to get started on my jobs and he said in a week...or so. Hmmm! I love this guy because he's honest and doesn't gouge me but he sure is hard to get started on any job he does for me. I can see another phone call to him being needed in a week...or so.
Every once in a while I think it might be a good idea to look for a new husband, one who is a good handyman but then I give myself a shake and realize that an old handyman might not be interested in my list of jobs. Then I'd be stuck with some old guy who won't do what I married him for.
In years past, I would get my jollies from glancing at good looking men. These days, I sigh after any man wearing a tool belt. Unfortunately, they're usually young enough to be my son or grandson.
Dennis, with prodding and nagging, would do most of my handyman jobs but only finished to about 95% before he totally lost interest and thought it was done good enough. My part in any of the work he did was just to clean up after him so I couldn't complain too much about that last 5% he neglected. If he'd had his way, we would have moved into this house and never done one thing to improve it. Some men are like that. They're content with what is and don't have the ability or interest to see what could be.
Oh well, my front steps might look like a fatal case of leprosy but my garden looks nice. I'll have to settle for that for a week...or so.
Every once in a while I think it might be a good idea to look for a new husband, one who is a good handyman but then I give myself a shake and realize that an old handyman might not be interested in my list of jobs. Then I'd be stuck with some old guy who won't do what I married him for.
In years past, I would get my jollies from glancing at good looking men. These days, I sigh after any man wearing a tool belt. Unfortunately, they're usually young enough to be my son or grandson.
Dennis, with prodding and nagging, would do most of my handyman jobs but only finished to about 95% before he totally lost interest and thought it was done good enough. My part in any of the work he did was just to clean up after him so I couldn't complain too much about that last 5% he neglected. If he'd had his way, we would have moved into this house and never done one thing to improve it. Some men are like that. They're content with what is and don't have the ability or interest to see what could be.
Oh well, my front steps might look like a fatal case of leprosy but my garden looks nice. I'll have to settle for that for a week...or so.
Wednesday, June 01, 2011
Mini Holiday
Faye, Mary, and I had our little mini holiday at the casino and we had a great time as usual. Unfortunately, I lost again but it was still fun.
We had free dinners and breakfasts so we all ate way too much. Buffets are really killers for me because I eat a plate full of hot food, a plate of salads, and then dessert. That is not a normal meal for me but it's there and I can't resist it. I was almost too full and tired to gamble but I gathered my resources and forced myself to do it.
After breakfast today, we gambled for an hour before going to an outlet mall nearby to shop. I lost a little bit more. Mary found a really nice pair of dress shoes at Nine West and I almost succumbed to the temptation to buy a pair, too. I just didn't need another pair so I fought off the urge. I'd always thought that Nine West shoes were horribly expensive but Mary's cost her under $30 with the tax.
My right knee, the so-called good one, has been hurting something fierce for over a week now and I don't know what I did to it. It made walking quite painful so we didn't stay at the mall long. I hate holding Faye and Mary back but they didn't seem to be too interested in staying longer than we did, anyway.
I love our little trips to Fallsview, especially when we get the free room and free dinners. It helps to take the sting out of losing at the slot machines. We'll be going back!
We had free dinners and breakfasts so we all ate way too much. Buffets are really killers for me because I eat a plate full of hot food, a plate of salads, and then dessert. That is not a normal meal for me but it's there and I can't resist it. I was almost too full and tired to gamble but I gathered my resources and forced myself to do it.
After breakfast today, we gambled for an hour before going to an outlet mall nearby to shop. I lost a little bit more. Mary found a really nice pair of dress shoes at Nine West and I almost succumbed to the temptation to buy a pair, too. I just didn't need another pair so I fought off the urge. I'd always thought that Nine West shoes were horribly expensive but Mary's cost her under $30 with the tax.
My right knee, the so-called good one, has been hurting something fierce for over a week now and I don't know what I did to it. It made walking quite painful so we didn't stay at the mall long. I hate holding Faye and Mary back but they didn't seem to be too interested in staying longer than we did, anyway.
I love our little trips to Fallsview, especially when we get the free room and free dinners. It helps to take the sting out of losing at the slot machines. We'll be going back!
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