Beware the ides of March

That would be tomorrow,the ides, most famously recalled in the soothsayer's warning to Julius Caesar,  but perhaps tomorrow will arrive sans snow and full of sun.  For anyone unfamiliar, Google the ides and there is  a plethora of information and websites.  Today there was a pale cast to the sky amplified with an early AM phone call of not so welcome tidings, pre Ides.  Yesterday I had my annual mammography and this morning the radiologist office called to require my returned presence--my left boob is in question, recalled, if you will.  This has never happened before to me, so while I am keeping a positive front, I am concerned.  I have learned that 1 in 10 women have a recall on their routine mammography screening. 



Mayo clinic mammo photo  I have never seen this technician



The clinician  yesterday seemed not as about business as  what I've had in the past, she neither squeezed, compressed nor twisted me in standing and sideways positions as I have been  done to before.  She took only one frontal and one side shot per boob.  I am accustomed to more agony and photos and so perhaps I must return for my fair share.  

When the unwelcome call came that I would have to go to La Crosse where they have greater equipment, I  joked, "what my boob has outgrown Onalaska?  I have had no change in cup or bra size"  Both clinics are just across the river but I have preferred Onalaska, the newest.  While the clinician laughed, she proceeded to offer other times for my left boob recall.    I am concerned and thinking of what ifs simultaneous to making a joke and shrugging it off.  After all, why worry now, do not borrow trouble which can come time enough.  Still, my left boob, favored side on which I sleep, bigger of the pair, is in question; I have had no symptoms nor concerns.  I am blessed to have Mayo clinic and a doctor who is a professional worry wart and while it could be nothing I think about the women whom I buried after they lost their battles with breast cancer and I think about survivors and pink today and I say, "time will tell, wait and see...."    
A large study published in the New England Journal of Medicine proved that isn’t the case.  All women have a 5% to 15% chance of being recalled. It doesn’t mean you have breast cancer. In fact, the odds are against it.   Radiologists are looking for two main signs of cancer: mass (tumors) and calcification. When a woman gets regular annual mammograms the radiologist compares the current year’s views with last year’s. If anything looks different or develops, returns for additional views or studies are taken to tease out what is being seen. Women develop benign tumors which may grow larger but do not spread to other parts of the body and calcifications all the time. These are quite common and include cysts, fibroadenomas, and solid masses. Calcifications occur most often simply as a result of the natural aging process from the degeneration of tissue"

I think of that old comical Mammogram poem that has made the email rounds for ages and copied in old xerox machines  prior to that.  It is online for the looking but I recall some lines long ago memorized, .... For years and years they told me, "Be careful of your breasts."   Don't ever squeeze or bruise them, and give them monthly tests.  So, I heeded all their warnings.....and protected them by law.... Guarded them very carefully, and always wore a bra.....   and on it goes.....I do not want to repeat it in entirety because I find it tedious to have reiterations, just as some late comers to email repeat and recirculate old articles, jokes, fables....so I refrain. 

Uncle Carl  Third or Fourth grade

Another thing, the month of March now feels

Aunt Jinx, Virginia
Second grade photo 

strange because I have two less  birthday cards to send; two cards for which I would search to find just the right sentiment.  

 March had birthdays of my late Aunt Jinx and Uncle Carl.  She was born March 1, 1921 and would have been 92 this year.  She was mom's older sister.  Uncle Carl, Mom's older brother was born March 21, 1918 and would have been 95 this year.   She died in 2009 and he in 2011.  The last of my elderlies, the last of the old family.  Now I am the old family. 

Love this photo of my late  aunt and uncle taken on one of my visits, June 2008, sitting on his porch, their lives went downhill after this visit.  Notice both reflecting in the same pose, they laughed later, he saying, "oh she always copied me."  Isn't it always something.....hold the good thoughts.

Sepia Saturday 149: Sisters at the waters

Back after a long absence, yet this week's prompt perplexed me.  I could not locate the photo I intended to post of an unidentified  ancestress walking near the water gazing with great trepidation.  I like to share photos from our massive collections, which are still under organization and scanning for genealogy. Instead of the unknown ancestress,  I offer these of sisters at the river. 

Aunt Jinx  

The first one is my aunt Virginia (aka Jinx) and the second is my Mom, Helen.  I believe these were taken the same day in  about 1940 and somewhere near where the family lived on 2nd Avenue in New Kensington, PA along the Allegheny river.  This  might have been near to a boat dock or perhaps that thing out there,  is a dry wharf where swimmers congregated in better weather.  You will notice that it is nearly submerged in the photo of Mom following which could mean these were not taken on  the same day.  Maybe it was a time when they were watching the river rise and wondering what next?  The contour of the hill across the river is the same as is their "perch."  I wish I could ask them all sorts of questions about this now, but it is left to my imagination. 

Mom

Maybe their brother, Carl,  who loved taking photos had a new camera to test.  I found these photos separately, one at my aunt's home and one at Mom's after they passed.  I thought it curious when I was assembling some photos that  they would each have the same shot.  Neither sister ever learned to swim and they shared a fear of water all their lives.  Actually the entire family always had a healthy respect for the rivers and was happy to move farther uphill away from the threat of the river running over it's banks and washing devastation over all in its path.  Any risk of flooding was dreaded.  It was lower cost housing there along 2nd avenue back in the  late 1930's and early 40's and where many of the miners and factory workers like my ancestors lived. 

Mom 1940

I found this one of Mom, marked "1940, high school days" also near that river, windy.  I like the pose, very pre Bus Stop ala Marilyn Monroe, Check out her saddle oxford shoes.  This was obviously back in the day when they wore dresses with shoes and socks, come to think of it we did too as girls in school.

We have a funeral tomorrow and so it may take me a few days to get to see all the posts.  Meantime, if you want to see how others are taking the prompt to the waters, or men looking on, or?, click this link to the Sepia Host site http://sepiasaturday.blogspot.com/2012/10/sepia-saturday-149-27-october-2012.html

Uncle John's wallet

Aunt Jinx and Uncle John in 1974

In 2009 after Aunt Jinx died and we had her home to clear and sell, we found Uncle John's last wallet.  He died in 1994 but as I have mentioned before, my family were the original savers, recyclers and never tossed anything that "you just might need to use someday."  The wallet, a magnificent  tooled leather piece, was still usable, so no way would it be discarded.  What is perhaps more comical is that we merely had it shipped to MN in the drawer of the antique dresser where it resided.  Uncle John's wallet is still there today along with my Granpap Teofil's wallet and several others. that Jinx saved.  To the mix, I have added a few of my purse style wallets and check book holders that I no longer use but, well, true to my genes, "might want it someday." 

Wallets in the drawer

Surely, "maybe someone will need a wallet someday and these are all like new."  The way things are going, if  our government keeps taxing us and taking our money, maybe wallets will become the next rare collectibles, antiques.  I am almost at that point myself, regarding a wallet as an antique.  I  seldom carry cash, only a few dollars that fit neatly into a small what used to be a "coin purse" into which I can slip my driver's license and ATM/debit card.   I don"t like the purse size wallets that hold  checkbook and all the cards.  I do not carry a checkbook with me at all; who needs that when we have our debit card?  Who writes checks?  We write few now a days.  We do most of our bill paying direct on line and Jerry, still a man with cash, withdraws and spends his money while there is nothing I need that will not be bought with debit card.  When we travel I do tote that along, but it has become passe.  I don't even like to carry much of a purse and find around home less and less need to, so I have a very small shoulder sling, although I do own a wide collection of purses too.  But this is about wallets, and this one of Uncle John's.

Uncle John's last wallet

I can visualize people in  2112 sitting wherever their congregating places might be and discussing this, (if they are still talking then and not texting each other or sticking their fingers in the air and merely exchanging brain waves), "Wow, you have a wallet!  Let me see that!"  To which another would comment, "A wallet---what was that?  What did they do with such things?"  And the eldest in the group might say, "I have read that once men and women carried wallets in which they kept their money and credit cards.." "Money?"  and to all this exchange of wonder, my future descendants could say, "I got this from the estate of my great great Aunt Pat who said it belonged to her uncle who died in 1994, that makes this wallet at least 118 years old.  It is made of something they called leather and the men carried them in their pockets."   Concepts like wallets, money, and even credit cards will be ancient to them and maybe they will not even know what a pocket is.  After all if one has nothing to carry along but an implanted earbud plugged in why would clothing have pockets?  You can continue this conversation along in your imagination and perhaps I am on the breaking edge of a new short story.  But all this thought comes from Uncle John's Wallet.

Somehing else was saved in his wallet that I have been waiting for the appropriate time to share here on the blog.  This is a newspaper clipping from what was the Daily Dispatch in my old hometown of New Kensington, PA in 1951.  Neither the gentleman nor the boy were identified.  I know it was none of my family because of the ages.  Uncle John may have known  the culprits or more likely he  found this amusing.  We laughed at this and thought of several things, first that the man is referred to as "elderly."  Really?  Hey that's not that old! And that would not have been so easily resolved today--the parents would have been litigious and so it would have gone.  But here is the 1951 newspaper clipping--say, that's another thing that is going the way of the wild goose, printed newspapers.  Many of us read online and no longer subscribe to home delivery.  We are hold outs here because Jerry likes the morning paper, sparse as it is, with his morning coffee, but I confess to going online and some days never touching the paper.  Nevertheless, here is what happened in 1951 in Arnold, PA. 

And all this is brought to you today courtesy of Uncle John's wallet in the antique dresser. 

Upper right drawer hold wallets

This dresser came from England and was owned by John's grandfather, the wealthy John R Irwin.  It is stunning and one of four huge heavy pieces to that bedroom set. 

Sepia Saturday 119 My Aunt at WORK



1951 Aunt Virginia,aka  Jinx with the  PPG Forklift

This week, Alan plucked us from leisure with that 4 letter word that makes me shudder in retirement land, work. I have  many photos I could have contributed, but this week, I feature one I have previously shared of Mom's sister, my Aunt Virginia (Konesky Irwin) who worked over 40 years at the Pittsburgh Plate Glass (PPG) factory in Creighton, PA.   I particularly like this photo of her with the forklift because of the story she shared with me  to encourage me to never back off from learning something new nor shirk responsibility.  I was blessed to have a forward thinking strong, independent  woman like her in my life, but then our family was filled with such women.   She  volunteered to learn to operate the forklift  because she knew that whatever she learned could only benefit her in the long run, the more skills the better off she would be. She was working in a factory and making good money for herself but she was ambitious too.   While the rest of the factory workers, predominantly men by that year,  declined to  do anything extra, she was eager.  But, as she related, her new skill generated lots of ill will towards her, especially from the women who thought she had over stepped her boundaries.  She never accepted  that because she explained during  the war, the women ran the factory while most of the men were off fighting and so why wasn't she just as capable now, especially when no one else wanted to do this.  But   jealousies and bickering can be part of any workforce,  factory or office.  Jinx figured she could  make more money at this and it would be easier than some other tasks.

I found this clipping among her photos after she died in 2009.  This would have been in 1945 by the reference to her age and address.  I never heard this story and would have been a baby when it happened.  I thought it interesting that this accident would have been reported in the local newspaper.  I also found this photo with "ready to go to work at PPG" on the back, from 1943.  I remember those dresses in the 1950's as a kind of chambray.  I don"t know how the women worked in those, but perhaps they had coveralls that they changed into at the plant.  

1943 Virginia "Ready to go to work
at PPG"

1971 PPG Virginia, left with a friend, right, at  their shop floor Christmas Party

 Above is another of my aunt with an unknown woman in 1971, at the potluck Christmas party that they enjoyed on the shop floor.  I cannot determine  what the other woman is holding up near her head because this photo is not very clear.  This was the year that Jinx played Santa  adorning herself with full costume because no one else would do it.   Jinx never weighed more than  100 pounds and was about five foot  six inches in height, she was strong, muscle and bones.  That makes it all the more humorous that she would be Santa, but she did.  Again, doing what no one else would do, not learning more but just doing this for some fun.   So here is "Skinny"  which was one of her nicknames all her life,  as Santa.  She certainly worked hard at a nontraditional place for women, but she could enjoy herself too.

Skinny Santa 1971

Click here to go to the Sepia Saturday site and enjoy others posts about work.

 http://sepiasaturday.blogspot.com/2012/03/sepia-saturday-119-work.html

Margie Sway

I wonder how we adapt traits that make us become like those who are not DNA relations? And just what traits are genetic? For a long time I've wondered about what's genetic and what's environmental? I also wonder about how much environmental is needed to be influential?

Aunt Marge in 1941,  before marriage

Today I thought about my Aunt Marge; she was my aunt because she married Uncle Carl, Mom's brother. Aunt Marge died in 1997 and Uncle Carl is still going strong living on his own in Lower Burrel, PA at the age of 89. I sure wish he would consider hiring help in mowing his lawn, etc. but that's another story of the stubborn Ostrowski Polish lineage. Well that was another thing, Aunt Marge was a "Slovak" and the Polish let her know that too. The comment, "what can you expect from a Slovak?" was said in a teasing manner but seriously too.

Aunt Marge was a beautician. She had her shop in their home for as long as I remember. She put hair up in pin curls for many older ladies many years after it went out of fashion to do so. She also liked to travel while Uncle Carl confined his travels to annual reunions with his WWII Army buddies and many fishing and hunting trips with the guys. He said he'd seen enough of Europe during the war to last him for several lifetimes. So Aunt Marge traveled with others or took tours on her own to Europe and all over. Aunt Marge had a favorite saying, "Carl if you can't speak and say something nice to me just don't say anything at all." And with that she'd vacate the room or area, off smiling about her way. They never had any children.

I thought of Aunt Marge when I put on an old sweatshirt jacket today that I've had for years. It's way too big but comfortable. I admired the floral and faded sage green pattern and the corduroy collar when I picked it up at some garage sale in CA for probably $1 years ago. I wore it to aerobic classes in CA because it reached to my knees and gave cover over the leotard and tights till I got into class. I've not lived in CA for 3 years and I must have given up aerobics at least 10 years prior to that. I toss this history of this sweatshirt jacket in so you get the drift of my parsimonious side. Some things I just keep. Well last year I looked at it hanging in the closet abandoned for years, and being in one of my sewing moods said, "I'll shorten it and then I can wear it with jeans and it won't look so bad." Never mind that the shoulders hang 3 inches below my shoulders and the cuffs fall far below my hands, I push those up. It's comfortable. So I did indeed cut it down to jacket size length. Aunt Marge would have been proud.

She was short and often her clothes were too long. In my family Aunt Jinx, Mom's & Carl's sister, is a top notch seamstress who for a time, when she was laid off from Pittsburgh Plate Glass worked as a seamstress at a blouse factory. By the way she too is still hanging in there at age 86 and lives in her own home, a widow in Natrona Hts., PA.

Well Aunt Marge used to cut down her skirts and even her shirts, making them shorter to fit her. All this she would do spontaneously as one day she'd put the clothing on and it suddenly occurred to her that it was too long. But while Aunt Marge might have been great with hair, sewing was not her forte. She could neither cut nor stitch a straight line. But it didn't bother her much, she was always proud of her alterations. It came to be known as the Margie sway!

Jinx would take one look at Marge's product and say, "Marge take that off and give it to me to take home and fix." Aunt Marge would be astonished,"Fix it? I just did. See how good it fits." It was a routine for I Love Lucy. Usually these discussions ended by Jinx taking the altered article home with her to sew it straight and fix it right. Jinx too has the stubborn Ostroski lineage which I really must write about someday on this blog. Though they were friends, the Pollack always won over the Slovak.

A couple years ago visiting in PA I put on a pair of slacks that were too long which I'd shortened. Jinx was horrified. She immediately said, "Patty take those off and let me hem them." I laughed and said, "Oh I already did..see they fit." Jinx nearly became apoplectic and continued--"I don't know how you can be like Aunt Marge wearing something that crooked......" And she would straighten my hems.

So today after heading outside with my jacket I caught my reflection in the car window. Wow! This jacket hem is not straight at all! I had to laugh out loud--Aunt Marge's spirit attacks again. Here in retirement in MN , I sew a lot more and know way better. I can sew and cut straight lines too! But here's my jacket with a Margie sway to it. And I've worn it for over a year this way--well it's just for kicking around. Maybe this will start a new cut to clothing in the fashion line--I just might have a new design. And I would call it the "Margie sway", see the directions now, --cut two lengths to the Margie sway, hem with 2 to 3 inches of the Margie sway!

So while there was no genetic link to Aunt Marge and I did not spend lots of time with her, how did I pick up this trait? Or is it that as a people we are all really a lot more alike than we can imagine?