Hoedown walk through the park

Copying is the most sincere form of flattery, so here I go; a  week or so ago, Beatrice, a bloggy friend at  http://thefrogandpenguinn.blogspot.com/        posted their adventures at an auction, browsing but buying not.   I commented that I used to enjoy those so much but have tended to avoid them and flea markets and estate sales these days lest I be tempted.  I have enough accumulation of stuff and so do not want to be tempted to add to things when in reality I should be downsizing, but here it is all coming to me later in life, collections and trinkets and treasures from my family members who pass on, adding to what I have already accumulated.  Funny but when we moved to MN from CA I shed many belongings, donating to the Goodwill, Salvation Army, the Cancer Society Thrift Store and the church for future rummage sales, a necessary step toward moving into retirement and to a different part of the country.   But today, I have just as much, maybe more.

The last source, as you know was my Aunt Jinx who passed on in PA last year; while clearing her home for sale we discovered box after  box packed neatly away in the basement filled with knick knacks, collectibles, some valuable which I'd have picked up at sales myself once upon a time, some just nice and some mysterious. I recalled her admonishments to me when she visited in CA and I dragged her and Mom along to sales, antique shops, etc, "don't buy that junk, someday you will have too much!"   Little did I know the truth and prediction in those words. She  gave me something every time I visited her, but I think she had long forgotten about these  boxes packed tidily away in her basement, many with items from the Irwins (her husband's family.)   I had already amassed enough to bring back home to MN, with crystal and cut glass items alone. I left behind a beautiful 12 piece place setting of china that would go with some of ours, not a replica  but same silver and grey tones.  But our hutch is full and I have boxes setting inside my closets already so what would I need with more.  Besides I  don't use it as much here because I seldom host big gatherings; this is how weird life is, once you get the stuff to do what you think you want to do, it's over, no more.  I thought surely I'd be the entertainment queen of La Crescent, but not so, not that many people to gather around together and mostly we gather out at the Legion or restaurants.      

So in PA, every item I picked up Jerry would look at and say, "now where are you going to put that?"  I would sadly leave it for Sandy, the woman we hired  to hold an estate sale to clear the home.  I now possess a full comprehension of  why families leave items like china, vases, trinkets and the like to be sold.  It just becomes overwhelming when you are faced with the task and you do not live near by, so have limited time to sort and discard.  I even left a shoe box of unlabeled black and white photos, recognizing that someone might see it and say as I have, "how sad no one wanted these pictures..."  But as you know I am engaged in sorting and discarding through an accumulation of ever so many photographs of our own, along with ones from family that I need not have added to the mess with ones of I know not whom nor what.  I will admit that periodically I get pangs of remorse remembering some trinket, object, utensil, that I wished I'd have kept, but water under the bridge.  We just do our best and try not to look back.

So I have turned the corner avoiding  what  was a fun past time, browsing flea markets, antique booths, estate sales, etc.  On Saturday though we headed up the road to Houston, MN and their annual Hoedown.  This is a weekend long celebration of all sorts of things,  games, carnival, parade, gatherings, foods and a big open flea market in the park.  "Well, I probably wouldn't look very long there anyway," so I said to myself and to Jerry, who nodded and replied, "well you never know."  I have this relatively new little camera which I just insisted I must have to carry around in my purse (which I seldom carry BTW) so off we went, with myself armed and dangerous thinking, "I can take some neat photos for the blog like Beatrice did.  Yes, that will give me a reason to look and perhaps keep my fingers from purchasing. "  Actually, most of the prices vendors put at these things now are beyond what I want to pay, when I was acquiring I was only looking for bottom bargain prices, it had to be inexpensive or I would not  purchase it. 

The photo above of the horse pull is from our La Crosse Tribune newspaper.  We learned a funny story about this event from our amusing friend Richard, former mayor of Houston, retired teacher, and all around jokester.  He said that Saturday's 32nd annual Minnesota State Horse Pull  was his inspiration; years back they were sitting around and thinking of what kind of attractions Houston would host.  They determined that there was no "State Championship horse pull" and so they named theirs that, which it still is today causing them all to laugh and raise their beer mugs in deference.  This photo of 72 year old  Lawrence Anderson with his draft horses says a lot; these horses pulled over 3,000 pounds, and he himself is not light weight.   Most of these horses and farmers are from working  farms and they do enjoy this sport.  Read the story of this  team and the WI event too at http://lacrossetribune.com/news/local/article_6cdece7a-97a2-11df-ba69-001cc4c002e0.html

                                                                                   The flea market in the park at Houston was a great way to pass a few hours looking at an endless variety of things, like these home made willow contraptions and talking to the man who made them who was sitting in the shade, not caring if he sold or not. These are a bit too rustic for my tastes, as I prefer the fancier, white wicker furniture in our sunporch room. Victory continues as I was not tempted. But as I said, he didn't care much one way or the other, this is a sideline hobby and as he shared, it wasn't important to sell in Houston because , sooner or later someone will buy them at a fair; and he expects the city people near Minneapolis would be happy to get such bargains, but not here in the southeast corner of rural MN, the market is not as good and buyers are more selective. I guess at one time I might have been one of those city folks willing to buy anything handmade too.

Unfortunately several vendors must have that attitude because sales were slim, lookers were many and there was no bargaining with these vendors.  I asked one woman at this booth, where Jerry's browsing (back to us in photo)  how long it took her to set up; in my opinion she had overpriced glassware and such.  She said about  4 hours with  3 or  4 of them working.  And I asked then didn't she want to sell and wasn't that a lot of work for nothing in sales?  But she too said, this is her hobby and she just enjoys meeting and talking with folks.  (I think I'd just take my lawn chair and not bother especially with wrapping and setting up and taking down.  But to each his or her own. )

These boxes of dishes, cups, vases, things were plentiful and sported right uptown prices.  I know that many of the vendors go to auctions and sales and pick these things up for nickels and dimes and then cart them around selling at a big mark up. Jerry is browsing selectively at the tables where I could honestly not find a thing that called my name.  No temptation here either, so far so good.  I have been noticing the past year on my infrequent trips that even the local Goodwill Thrift store in La Crosse/Onalaska has more uptown prices, which I find ridiculous as it is all freely donated to them. Of course, the items remain on the shelves lots longer too today than a couple years ago. 

I  was fascinated with this woman's  woven rag rugs.  She said  explaining  useable fabrics, "if I can rip it, I can weave it."  And she does into very hearty  rag rugs reminiscent of old time styles.  I asked her to pose for me so I could put it on my blog which intrigued her as well to more discussion, as though I am a famous writer and here she was to be discovered.  I am always astounded when folks are fascinated by my blog.   She said she wished she could write; funny as it comes so easily to me...

The blue rugs above are of old discarded denim.  She does teach her craft at different community education sites and here she was explaining to an interested customer.  I know my grandmother made her own rag rugs too, and when I was small I remember making potholders of rags.  She had one of her looms set up so customers could see the work in progress.   

There were many  young families looking about as the Hoedown has ample entertainment for kids, including a  fair sized playground right there in the park with swings, teeter totters, and the like, ponies, baseball games and more.  One young boy's loudly insistent impatient whine, "MOM ! C'mon Mom! Why do you have to look at old stuff!" gave me a good laugh, remembering so many years back when it was me dragging a young son along through such things where he'd rather not be. Mom just kept rummaging and her face straight ahead as the other son reluctantly followed more quietly and the husband hung back, covered his mouth to keep from laughing out loud! Here they are, youngest son trying to get Mom away from the old stuff and the older standing quietly. I laughed at him and said, "I know it doesn't make any sense, does it how we like to look! "

Maybe if  she could have dragged him down a ways, he might have been interested in these old toy trucks....didn't Tom T Hall write a song about little boy toys, little toy trucks zooming round the bend, doesn't it make you wish you were a little boy again?  Nope, Google tells me it was Roger Miller and went like this,   
Old toy trains, little toy tracks
 Little toy drums coming from a sack
Carried by a man dressed in white and red
Little boy, don't you think it's time you were in bed?

 
 Another interesting vendor  made  flower bud vases  from butter knives and  spoons, an industrious venture which attracted many looks.  In a way it made me sad to see quality sterling silver so altered from its original state, but if he is recycling that which is just cast aside, why not?    One of our friends bought several of these for Christmas gifts. 

I had made a trip to the mall days before and commented that the clothes are getting uglier and uglier just when I thought it couldn't get any worse.  And so following what seems to be a fashion trend there were booths offering ugly clothing too, all made in India, Honduras, and of course China. This was the only such booth  as most had unique handmade or real flea market attractions.   I was surprised at the women and  girls attracted to  this booth  with assorted tie die rags, gauzy flimsy things that surely will not last through several washings, but then maybe this is some of the disposable clothing,   to be the thing of the furture for travelers; just buy and toss,  and eliminate need for suitcases!

No end of tools, gadgets, and collectibles of bygone, even tobacco tins, some of which I think may still be on the market. Several months back, my friend Samdy, in CA inquired about wood planing tools and told me to look carefully through my uncle's things in PA as we are cleaning out his home. I noticed several booths had such things for sale here too.

A local hunter/trapper offered an array of knives with bone handles in sheaths with  remnants of fur of beaver, muskrat, otter, rabbit and the like. 

I am not a salt and pepper shaker collector though some of these older ones made in Japan and of lustreware caught my eye.I had almost talked myself into a purchase of a pair of birds to go with my bird collection, but  I restrained my fingers from reaching into my wallet.  These were all under $5, a bargain.The previously unforeseen benefit of taking the camera, became apparent,  while taking pictures I would not be buying! Recently while visiting with a friend who is a professional seamstress and part time flea market vendor shared  her secret of big sales is to advertise, "Buy old, buy now, not made in China anyhow!" I thought Pat's slogan would go well at these booths. Really wouldn't someone rather have a bit of history, something unique not made today and certainly instead of today's cheaper looking trinkets?

There is something beyond nostalgic to these items, something connective to other times, places and people? 

Which brings me to the hay lecture. Every time Jerry goes to these sales he gravitates to the tools and old farm implements. No exception at Hoedown when I caught up with him, he began to explain the purpose of this array of things that I thought rusted beyond recognition. But he knew just what these were, citing his MN farm boy growing up years. It was quite a complicated explanation which I did not retain, likely because I have little interest in tools and implements, though I recognize a painted up tractor seat when I see one.  But I was corrected and advised that was a mower seat not tractor, the one to the left with openings. 

The item below and to the right looks like a torture mechanism, but Jerry explained how it was used to pull hay along and then attached somehow with ropes/pulleys to the contraption in the first photo and so swept up hay to get it to the bale stage.  Something like that anyway! 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

 
 
And if one gets thirsty, the hospitality of hoedown includes unlimited free glasses of water.  Sure there are booths selling lemonade, snow cones, etc but the nice cold fresh water was great and avoided having to buy a plastic bottle of water which is commonly sold at events.  This makes lots more sense! 
 
 
 
 
 

Real home made canned goods and produce were among other booths.

 

Now for our purchases, you knew there would be something didn't you?  Well one lady who is also from La Crescent we learned, visiting with her, had  baskets of the old glass knobs which we have on the antique bedroom set.  Trouble is that over the years from the early 1800's the knobs were damaged and are not all the same on the vanity dresser or one of the bureaus.   I spotted the basket of knobs and Jerry found what could be the right size.     But we took the woman's card who said we could get them in town from her or that she would be set up Sunday.  So we did return on Sunday and purchased 4 of the smaller knobs.  The bigger size she had were too big, unfortunately.  This is the first time we have found the knobs as they are getting harder and harder to spot.  But this is  one purpose to going to these kinds of events, now I have a reason to browse!  

However, we did buy this sign from the Rag Weaver's booth who sold other things as well as her rugs.  This made me laugh and I think we can enjoy it downstairs  in the  TV room.  Jerry has now  decided it can also go along in the motor home with us on journeys, as it seems to speak to & fit with  parts of our lives---

  

And on our way back to the car, I could not resist this  lovely home with a grand old porch!  Noticing it was for sale, we  discussed how it might serve as a Bed and Breakfast, not something I want to do, but someone might!  It comes with nice screened  side porch and gas light out front! 

At one time in my life I would have loved to acquire a nice old place like this, but projects enough entertain us with our current modern home and these old ones take money to  update unless one is willing to rough it without  many  amenities, and I am not.  Now, if there were someone who wanted to invest in such a venture I could be interested in participating, with plenty of advice and ideas!

I can just imagine sitting on the porch sipping a nice cup of tea or an icy frothy margarita! No one was out on this porch though, maybe they were all at Hoedown activities. Actually with the comfort of  air  conditioning,  it is less common to see folks out on porches, another relic pastime of times ago. The house I grew up in in PA had a big front porch and in her later years, my mother spent much time sitting out there, not inside watching TV.

Aunt Fran Konesky Amerine Sepia Saturday Week 33 (click here to other Sepias)

This week I introduce, my aunt,, Frances Kochanowski (aka Konesky) Amerine, who was the intrigue of our family and the reason I so wanted to live in CA which I did for many years.  There will be more later to share about her, but for today, suffice that she was the  eldest, first born of Rose and Teofil, my Mom's parents and my grandparents.  Born in 1916, but she  changed her age so frequently that when she died in CA in 1999 even her daughter and son did not know her true age.  The only time she could not lie about her age was when she was around her sisters, who would not tolerate that.  This is the earliest photo I have of her, similar to Uncle Carl's at the Renton School, taken in about  1923.


Aunt Francie was the most  adventuresome  as well as he most argumentative of the family and enlisted in the Women's Army Corps (WAC)  in  1942 to the consternation of her family. If Uncle Carl her brother was going to enlist, so was she and she did, with her first stretch of the truth about her age when she made herself older, the only time she increased her age! I always thought that was so brave of her; she never served abroad though she claimed to be wanting to do just that, but she traveled all around the country serving where needed.  I am uncertain what she did in the WAC's, likely some sort of office work, I do not believe she went into nursing.  This photo is from about 1942 and you can see how pretty she was and quite happy to be out and about in the world.

 She wanted to travel and did so much of her life, after marrying Uncle Paul, who was career military Air Force. For their marriage, sometime between 1947-1948, she made herself  younger because he was younger than she.  There were many family discussions about that and even Francie's father, Teofil could not understand why she did not just admit her age and be over with it.  There were many things he did not understand about this daughter. 

Well she was on her path and one thing she wanted was out of the Polish poor family and onto the world.  At times she rather looked down on her roots; but her family accepted her, referring to her "big ideas."  I liked that from early on, believing that we should all have big ideas.  I  never knew as a child that there was any negativity associated with it.  The next photo is about 1943.

She visited home often and the next two photos are in 1945 when yours truly was among us.  The photo of her holding me looking toward the bridges and the river was one I remember my Grandma Rose saying, "there was Francie holding you and telling you there was a world to be had and seen beyond the riverbanks of PA."    I believed her from this time when I was only  several months old.

Here she is holding me beside her sister, Helen, my Mom the  widow.

I will have more photos and stories next week or so about her.  She died in CA in 1999 and we lived there at the time so I was able to see her.  For someone who always  practiced  good health habits, never smoked, nor drank alcohol, ate extra healthy preferring little meat and large amounts of vegetables and didn't even drink caffeine, it seemed not right that she would have heart problems.  One of my visits to her in the hospital I mentioned that and she said "yes I always took care of my health and look where it got me, on the way to death anyway!"

As I said more to come later about this intriguing though at times haughty aunt Francie, named for my grandmother's baby sister, Great Aunt Francie Mroz whom I wrote about  Sepias ago. She did not get on at all with her brother Carl, especially after their mother passed away and she did not come home to PA for the funeral.   He has never forgiven her to this day despite his dementia for ignoring her Mom's funeral.   As always click on the title above to get to other Sepia Saturday posts.

Prayers everyday and thoughts

I was browsing some blogs I follow at times and see that Nancy over in Life in the 2nd Half wrote about prayer today....you can get to her blog here, http://lifeinthesecondhalf.blogspot.com/2010/07/power-of-prayer.html   As I commented to her I was reminded of some talks I had given on prayer  in CA when I was a Conference certified Lay Speaker for the United Methodist Church;  while I enjoyed  that activity I soon became "too popular" with multiple requests to fill in  at churches in our area  when pastors were  away, etc.  It was all I could do to keep up with my own day job, career in the state bureaucracy and so  really had to curtail my speaking assignments to my own home church.  One of my  pastor friends encouraged me to keep my  talks in files and then reuse them at other places, which I did.  That saved me some work. 

Well Nancy's post took me to my file on my prayer talks and it was enjoyable for me to  reread what I had spoken.      I will  now have to retype it  here, because back in 1995, I saved it to something called a floppy disk, an ancient device that is no longer readable on any of my computers.  Well I think I will first try to scan it and that  will take me some time. 

I was raised to pray, weren't all good Catholic girls?  But over the years though I have always believed in the power of prayer, I am not always diligent.   However I seldom miss my last words to the Creator though as my head hits the pillow, and this is the throw back to that old childhood prayer, "now I lay me down to sleep..."  which is one I learned in Polish too! I confess that my prayers sometimes are a one way spontaneous conversation from my end, without listening for a reply, like, "What now!  Are you crazy up there, out there or what are you doing anyway!  Never mind I don't even think I want to know....."  or, "if you are listening at all,  would you mind,,,,,," 

Before I   move along to scanning my talks, I will share poems by one of my favorite theologians, poets, authors Ted Loder, former senior minister of  the First United Methodist Church of Germantown, PA.  I have several of his books which I browse from time to time, and while looking over my talks on prayer I was reminded how much I enjoyed his writings.  That took me to  browsing my shelf today and pulling his books to look through.  Wonder what he's doing today as I heard he did retire from the active ministry.  Well, I'll have to Google and find out.  This is how my time gets away from me, one thing on the computer leads to another on the  blog and then another and so it goes...Well I needed a break from pulling crabgrass out of the lawn in the sun which is now too hot in early  day in our clear pure MN sky without smog or other filters.  So reading poetry is a good diversion for the moment......one of my  mentor bosses in the state bureaucracy once told me I have the attention span of an English spaniel, I guess that has not changed.....    

           Here from Loder's "Guerrillas of Grace:  Prayers for the  Battle"                                     

   How Shall I Pray?

How shall I pray?

Are tears prayers, Lord?

Are screams prayers,

or groans

or sighs,

or curses?

Can trembling hands be lifted to you,

or clenched fists

or the cold sweat that trickles down my back

or the cramps that knot my stomach?

Will you accept my prayers, Lord,

my real prayers,

rooted in the muck and mud and rock of my life,

and not just my pretty cut-flower, gracefully arranged

bouquet of words?

Will you accept me, Lord,

as I really am,

messed up mixture of glory and grime?

LORD, HELP ME!

Help me to trust that you do accept me as I am

that I may be done with self condemnation

and self pity,

and accept myself.

Help me to accept you as you are Lord,

mysterious,

hidden, strange, unknowable,

and  yet to trust that your madness is wiser

than my timid, self seeking sanities,

and that nothing you've ever done

has really been possible,

so  I may dare to be a little mad, too.

"God.....Are You There?"

God, ...

are you there?

I've been taught,

and told I ought

to pray.

But the doubt 

won't go away,

yet neither

will my longing to be heard.

My soul sighs

too deep for words.

Do you hear me?

God,...

are you there?

Are you  where love is?

I don't love well,

or often,

anything

or anyone. 

But when I do,

when I take the risk,

there's a sudden awareness

of all I've missed and it's good,

 its singing good.

For a moment

life seems as it should.

But I forget, so busy soon,

that it was

or what or whom.

Help me!    God,....

Are you there? 

 

Lollin' round the bluffs and river (Click here for Minnesota Marine Art Museum)

Yesterday we drove the 20 miles up the river to Winona to the Maritime Museum, one of my very favorite places that we don't get to often enough. It sits right on the Mississippi River in Winona, which is also home of the Polish Museum and the Watkins Museum! Click on the title to this post to get to their website. Actually I love museums, but this one is special because the exhibits change frequently and there is always more to see and such a diversity that Jerry doesn't grumble about going as there is usually something he enjoys as well.

The primary attraction for me this trip was the Norman Rockwell exhibit of Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn which was so wonderful as it reminded me of the tales, 16 signed prints that define the characters  created by Mark Twain.  Two original print books from the  30's are out for public display and better yet, the public can pick the book up and ruffle through the pages, matching the artwork to that on display.  I love touching things in museums and in most museums that is a big time No No.  But not at Winona, we are invited to touch.  This exhibit will only be  here until August 1, on loan from the Rockwell Museum in Stockbridge, MA.  Every summer I like to read a classic  novel or two, and after yesterday I will reread Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn this summer.  

There are several  galleries inside and one has the most magnificent marine related paintings and other artwork, by Story, Renoir, Monet, and more. Sadly as most museums, no photographs of any kind are allowed.   Private collections often loaned to the museum for a brief time are all there, in the inner galleries, where knowledgeable curators abound.  But even in that inner sanctum, I can touch the frames of the great works.  I do so ever so lightly and just thrill to the tactile awareness.  The last time we visited Henry Bosse's work, all in shades of blue, ala blue prints of the Mississippi River abounded and the high bluff country was the featured display. He is of interest to me because he was born November 13, 1844 exactly 100 years before me.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Henry_Peter_Bosse

Speaking of tactile sensations, another small corner  had costumes to be worn in the current Winona Feted Great River Shakespeare festival  featuring Othello.  There were  costumes from previous years, Lsdy Macbeth and Macbeth right there displayed with the sketches and swatches, and available to touch.  Here is their website    http://grsf.org/  So far I have not had the opporutnity to attend on eof the plays, but it may surface to the top of the bucket list this season. 

Yesterday one gallery displayed the  Titanic Survivor's Story.  We have seen other Titanic artifacts there but yesterday one of the famous deck chairs was on exhibit.  I recalled my career days and my best friend Roberta who often said, we  fiddled in the bureaucracy of state government rearranging the deck chairs on the Titanic when we should have been heading for the life boats!  Yesterday's exhibit featured the diary pages  and personal letters of Laura M Cribb, a young survivor of the Titanic disaster.    I am in awe reading around the display and shuddering to think of what happened, recalling John Astor and his wife.  I loved the Titanic movie and could hear Celine Dion singing, "near far, where ever you are,,,,,,,my heart will go on and on.... "

Museums are great places for me to lose myself, always have been.  I remember taking the bus from our town to the Carnegie Museum in Pittsburgh all alone to spend a day more than once in my senior year of high school because I could not convince any of my friends to go along.  I suppose my  love of  museums accompanies my love of history. 

While I amused myself Jerry departed to the gallery featuring thousands of fishing lures, historic lures from prehistory to today, fishing memorabilia, advertisements, photographs about one favorite past times.  He no longer fishes but  remains interested and "Hooked" so the exhibit  is titled did just that to him.  This collection is on loan from Dan Basore  until September 4.  It  has cases of  18th and 19th century  European lures brought to America by immigrants, early hand crafted lures, and  19th and 20th century factory produced lures. 

This museum is in a beautiful place along the Mississippi and yesterday there were many empty barges in the river, awaiting to be filled with grain, or other goods and shipped down the Big River for ports southward bound.

Well my fascination with all things museum leads me to consume more time inside, than many folk,  Jerry being no exception, so he has to spend time awaiting and at the Winona  Maritime there are beautiful fields and  flora surrounding where he can sit and watch the river and wait for his dawdling wife to reconnect. As I  came outside, I found him there amid the black eyed Susan's waiting ever so patiently!  Hah!   

 Winona is one  busy port along the Mississippi in Minnesota, but one can merely cross the bridge and tootle down the Wisconsin side as well, which we did yesterday ending up in Trempeleau, a nice cozy fishing village.

 By the time we arrived in Trempeleau,  named for the French fur trappers, we were thirsty and needing a snack as well, so we stopped at the famous Trempeleau Hotel, Bar, Restaurant to have an adult drink or two and visit with locals.  We enjoyed their famous walnut burger meatball appetizers to take the edge off.  That was a good way to try those out, and  about the only way Jerry would sample them being a guy who prefers his burgers to be beef. I think I enjoyed the  walnut burger meatballs more than he did, but again it is something to experience; wished I'd snapped a photo, but I was consuming and enjoying a great glass of Chardonnay while he quenched his thirst with his usual, Budweiser beer.  I found the walnut balls,  quite good and crunchy,  pieces of crushed walnuts and all sorts of breading and spices, deep fried with a spicy mustard  alongside for dipping.   He commented that they reminded him of stuffing which I found weird as he never eats stuffing, something I alone enjoy!  The hotel bar was just beginning to get filled for the dinner time crowd, but we had a pleasant talk with the young bartender and other locals while we quenched our thirst. 

Then I missed the photo op of all time as a guy walked in from the river side patio with a woman companion, they were both  about late  50's or so, not young, but he had unruly unkempt  blondish greyish hair, sticking  outside his cap and down his shoulders, a much greater hairdo than hers.  I would not have noticed them if not for his appearance as it is not the sight we usually see around these parts and I said something like "look what's coming" but once again Jerry was way ahead of me, as he  signaled the barteneder for another beer, "For cryin' out loud, he's wearing a dress!"  I had not noticed at first, and sure enough, what a sight continued through the bar out the other door to  the hotel entrance.  It was not a dress but was a woman's gauzy ruffled longer skirt  with his tank top tucked inside and flip flops on his feet! I really wanted a photo because I have seen nothing like that since CA and the transvestites.   The bartended said the man's name is Gary and he lives there in the hotel upstairs and all things considered is a nice person, he said that if I'd asked I could have gotten a photo and here I sat small camera in my purse wondering. 

Well after that we departed for home where no more surprises awaited.  It had been a very pleasant afternoon, ending with sights we could laugh about and wonder once again acknowledging that it takes more than all kinds to keep the world spinning round, no matter where we live...... .

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Aunt Virginia Konesky Irwin Sepia Saturday Week 32 (click here to other Sepias)

This week I share more about my favorite aunt, my mother's sister,  who passed last year and  here we are in PA in 1986 (not at all Sepia)  during one of our visits home from CA.  Me on the left, Virginia on the right.   She was more than a 2nd mother to me and to this day I don't know what would have become of me if it were not for her and my grandmother Rose, her mother.    Her name was Virginia but in Polish it is , 'scuse my spelling here, Vierczinka, which led to the name her family and friends called her, Jinx.  In 2005 when I went to PA to stay with her through some surgery she got very annoyed at the nurse who  refused to call her"Jinx" because the nurse thought that was  demeaning  and this little lady was not a Jinx.  I had to explain that it was from Polish and that my aunt did not consider it demeaning.

Virginia was born March 1, 1922 to Teofil and Rose (Ostrowski) Kochanowski.  I have mentioned that Uncle Carl, her brother changed the family name to Konesky and she used that too.  Today I am featuring a few of her photos at work including one of my favorites where she is driving a forklift.  Jinx always encouraged me to do unusual things, she might have been one of the first feminists in the family though there was not a name for it back in her time.  She was always one to strive for the unusual jobs, was quite mechanically inclined all her life unlike myself and that is just one reason why she admired Jerry, my husband, he's mechanical and handy too.  In this photo from 1996 when she and Mom visited us in CA you can see them both with Jerry; Jinx in one of my sweaters with her arms around Jerry, me standing and Mom on the  right.  At times I think they liked him more than they did me!  If there was ever a disagreement within their earshot, they would both side with Jerry immediately. My aunt always said, "You got a good man there, Patty, one of the best."  That made me proud too.  Jinx was never one to sit still though and even on a visit took it upon herself to clean my house, for which I was grateful.  Mom would have been just as happy to not work, but with Jinx around no one could be idlel.  This was the trip where they made 10 apple pies and put them in the freezer for Jerry because I was too "busy" at work to bake for him! 

Here are two of her earliest photos in high school, where she took  secretarial classes and told me once that she wanted to take an industrial class but of course back in PA in  the 30's that was not to be. She said she had figured that she would be working in a factory if she  could get hired and she knew right away that there was more money to be made on the factory floor than in an office.  The photo to the left is in 1939 one year before she graduated.  She was always proud to have graduated from high school because she was  the  2nd girl in the family to do so, her sister Francie the first.  She lived in the same valley area all her life and was still proud when they had their 50th reunion.  She had kept her 1940 senior yearbook which I donated it to the People's Library for their reference collection when we cleared her home; 1940 was one volume they were missing and so it is available today to researchers. She'd  like that because she did not  waste anything.  This photo to the right is her senior year 1940 and she looks so very serious, likely  thinking about so many things and what was to  be ahead.  You will notice how thin she is, a life long trait, despite a huge appetite.  No one could believe how Jinx could eat because she always remained thin.  Her mother said she took after her Grandfather, Rose's father, Frank Ostrowski whom I've shared in other Sepia weeks.

But since I decided this theme would be her at work, let's get on to what she considered the ultimate, a job at the Pittsburgh Plate Glass Company, known as PPG!  Wow, she thought she could make a fortune; she and  her girl cousins all landed employment in the Glass Company, though Jinx would continue to work there over the years and the cousins would  quit to stay home once they married.  Here she is in 1943 standing down the railroad tracks from the plant in Creighton.  She worked many different shifts there and as the family had no vehicle she took the bus to work.  After she made friends at work it was a real treat to be picked up by coworkers who had an automobile  for 50 cents  a week, avoiding the bus route.  She said some  people wanted the ride but the bus was cheaper, so they didn't want to spend the money.  She thought they were cheapskates because if someone gave them a ride for free they took it but she did not begrudge spending 50 cents  for the door to door service.  I learned  early on from her that sometimes "you have to spend money when you are working"; she called it  "working expense" and was ahead of her time in that consideration.  They worked in the factory but they wore these dress uniforms of chambray, I know that she sewed her own and  also  sewed uniforms for  other women who would pay her for her labor.

I don't have the actual date on this photo but here she is on the forklift, I think it was about 1950.  Someone previously posted about the preservation of union and  shop cards and my aunt had hers as well.   The story with the forklift is another about her tenacity.  She told me that they needed volunteers to learn to operate this thing and that no one wanted to do so, least of all the women.  So she stepped right up because she was always one for things mechanical and thought whatever she could learn would put her that  much farther ahead of the next person.  Well, she got the job operating the forklift,  a task much easier than other work with a promotion and a higher salary and then all the women got mad at her.  She told me about this when I was in elementary school and worried when friends would not talk to me when I made straight A's.  She said that sometimes in life, when you get successful people get jealous and that I just as well learn that early.  This is one of my favorite photos because of the life lessons involved while  I never aspired to work in a factory I learned from her to  not be afraid to try new things to get ahead.   I see the equipment is Hyster, still in business today.   Researching I learned " Hyster started as a small manufacturer of winches and lifting machines used in the logging and timber industry of the United States’ Pacific Northwest. The name originated from the call of the laborers who would shout “Hoist’er!” when a log was ready to be lifted. A few years later the first forklift trucks were invented and Hyster quickly gained its reputation for rugged quality. Over eight decades Hyster has continuously developed its product offering and service network to become the leading international player it is today."

I became her "job" she always said.  Here we are in 1945 when I had begun to take my first steps.  She would stand me up against a tree or fence outside on a lawn and be close enough to catch me, calling me to walk to her.  For some reason I was more willing to walk to her than to my Mom, so she and Mom decided that Jinx would get me to walk.  I also seemed to do better outside than inside on a safe flooring, as my curiosity became rampant.  When Mom stood me somewhere and  stepped back I'd cry royally and just sit down insisting Mom come back to get me, but I didn't do that with Jinx.  Who knows why but then I turned the corner and  they said real trouble began, I insisted on toddling everywhere and you can see she is restraining me here, there is no place I wouldn't toddle off.  Even with Mom when I would fuss if picked up because I wanted to be loosed upon the world. 

In 1951 she became engaged to someone whose name I never did write down, here she is at an engagement party  notice the red roses corsage.  She said they announced their engagement  following the wedding of her friends.  Up until this time everyone was sure that she would remain an "old maid" living with her parents and to tell the truth she was quite satisfied that way, working and being at home.  I tell you she was career oriented.  Whoever this first man was is lost for all time now, but I do know that he was killed in a tragic accident before they married.  Jinx was insisting on a proper waiting period and she said she did not want to give up  her job at PPG while he though she should.  So she was not going to jump right into anything.  She always liked working and making money and was not  convinced she should give that up to get married.  How different she was from the other women of the day who were more than willing to be out of the workforce at home and raise their families.    Many years back, she gave me his diamond ring that I  sized down to wear on my middle finger. I should have gotten the name  back then but didn't and she didn't want to discuss it anymore. 

Here she is in 1966 with Grandma Rose and my mother ,Helen who is  holding her small dog, Poncho.  This was after a weekend picnic gathering after she and Uncle John whom she married in 1956 were living in Freeport PA.  By the way, John had no objection to her working and so she continued to do so.  I have written elsewhere on this blog about her and Uncle John Irwin.  Just last week I shared the spinning wheel on of the many treasures from the Irwin family.  

I close with this last photo of her at a dinner sponsored by PPG for 104  employees for  40 years at the Creighton plant.  Holding her recognition award, her clock, is plant manager Russel Crane while Chairman of the Board, L. Stanton Williams shakes her hand.  There was a  time in the 1950's when the women were  laid off and sent home as the men returned from the war and needed the jobs.  My aunt went to work as a supervising seamstress at a blouse factory then for several years, but she wanted to go back to PPG.  In the 1960's there was a need and when they recalled her she had turmoil.  She hated to leave the blouse factory where she was doing so well, but PPG would pay more and offered better benefits, so she bid Ship N' Shore farewell and went back to PPG. I have this Seth Thomas clock today, which she proudly received and as she warned me so long ago, I keep my fingers off it, only Jerry winds it.  She knew that I never inherited the mechanical ability she had and it was best to keep me away from anything that relied on adeptness.

In her memory, my Aunt Jinx, Virginia Irwin, 1922-2009.  I would say rest in peace now, but I know she is busy somehow stirring the clouds above and still working!

As always click on the title to visit other interesting Sepia posts from cyberposts all over the world.  Or click on this link....   http://sepiasaturday.blogspot.com/2010/07/sepia-saturday-week-32.html

After the storm

Call me  strange but I have always loved a big howling storm; something about the thunder and lightning and sheets of  rain coming down so that you cannot see through; an experience that involves all the senses.  When I was a kid I always wanted to  be out in the rain but was always pulled back inside and cautioned to stay away from those windows.  Our home in PA had a big front porch so I liked to sit out there but if it lightninged Mom made me go inside.  I guess a howler is not so frightening from the inside of a secure home.

Well last night here we had a humdinger of a storm right on the  edge of tornadoes.  No I don't want or need to experience a tornado because sometimes I think I have  or am already living in the land of Oz like Dorothy when it blew her from Kansas. Where oh where are my ruby red slippers, I've already encountered flying monkeys.   But today the skies are bright blue and clear and all around town there are trucks pulling small trailers filled with limbs heading for the disposal where everything will be crunched into free mulch for those who want it.  Here is one man at it on Oak Street, taken through my SUV windshield.

We were very fortunate here as only limbs and leaves came down, like this one in the back yard, nothing very significant. We were protected and are thankful.   Oh one of my angels who normally sits on the back rail flew into the yard but this morning I picked her up, whole and ready to sit guard again, although she needs a good cleansing and a patch to her broken toenail;  come to think about it, the wind whipped right  past our back yard so she did her rightful duty if you can believe such  things.  Even our dinky plastic chairs stayed in place, odd because so many others had overturned things, broken, etc.  The oriole feeder was still in place and the black and orange are right back at eating jelly today. Just lots of clean up, not what we'd planned today but you know the old saying, we plan and God laughs. 

Just two blocks over, a friend was not so lucky as their front tree came down into their yard, still it could have been worse as it was in other parts of town. This  one did not hit their home nor their carport. 

 Right across the street their neighbors left tree limbs in the drive and went to work, it will wait.   

At the Shepardson's (Jerry's cousin & Kathleen,friend) another big old Oak will be gone; seems they keep getting hit by the storm. If I didn't know better I would say that someone in the Great Beyond is out to get them, because this is the  second storm where they have lost trees, limbs, major damage with close calls. 

On my way up town to capture some photos of Main Street and the clean up I swung into Milo and Kathleen's and that 'hood really got it.  Still fortunate though because it is in the back yard and hit no part of the house.   They will have to employ more  tree removal service again soon though.  Here's Kathleen among the limbs of a used to be grand oak.  

That street is going to have to be renamed from Oak Terraces.  All the 100 &  200 year old oak trees are being storm wreaked and coming down.  The birds will miss the trees and the residents will miss all the shade.  Fortunately even this approach to the front which got it in the previous storm had no damage to the home. But there is no entering their driveway now until the debris is cleared.   And two doors down from them   an old tree crashed onto part of the home and   destroyed the vehicle in the driveway. 

Below is the used to be grand old oak in their back yard that came  apart  in last night's storm. You saw part of the limbs where Kathleen was in their midst.

There were some kids out looking around this morning too and one little boy was so obliging to have his photo taken in the stump of this gorgeous hemlock that was uprooted on Main Street.  His friends were more shy but he was proud and full of giggles. 

All around town it's the same story today.  How can the sun shine so bright after so much darkness?  That's life exemplified.  All we can do is get back up the next day and start clearing out the debris.

Two more reads Pontoon and Overton Window

I always get a laugh out of Garrison Keillor's writings even though  I absolutely disagree with him politically.  He does it again with "Pontoon" published in 2007, which I picked up somewhere and decided it was a good light read for  travels, the trouble is  there are so many funny passages I had to read them out loud to Jerry too as we drove along to southern IL.  "Pontoon"  really hit my giggle buttons because now we live in MN, the site of Lake Wobegon and among Norwegians and Lutherans, the folks in his writings.  "Pontoon"  is vintage Keillor especially the final funeral scene, I laugh out loud recalling it. Sometimes I wonder what he's drinking or smoking when he writes; share that secret please!  Here is a very over all  summary because there is so much that happens to so many characters, that I can't cover it all here. 
When Evelyn dies, her daughter, Barbara discovers  that her wishes are  cremation, to be stuffed into her bowling ball and dropped into Lake Woebegone!  There, you see what I mean about what does he drink while writing.  While Barbara proceeds to carry out these wishes she gives up alcohol which has been a problem for her but a coping mechanism; she enlists her  bedraggled excuse of an adult son to assist; he hooks up with an Elvis impersonator and things really start to gel.  Meantime Deb Detmer, a local girl who went to CA where she made a fortune  specializing in  veterinary aroma therapy returns home for a celebration ceremony (not a wedding) to marry Brent,on the Lake in a pontoon  presided over by Misty Naylor, from the sisterhood of the sacred Spirit.  Enough happens to call the celebration off but not some of the arrangements which collide with the funeral.  Then there are the visiting Danish Lutheran  ministers,  agnostics, shipped  away from Copenhagen to get out of their Bishop's hair and who Fred must escort.  The Danes cannot wait to leave for more exciting Western states, but little can they begin to  imagine what they will encounter as they feast on giant shrimp kabobs at Lake Wobegon and imbibe too freely.  Enough, it makes me laugh just trying to describe it.

 He adequately describes lutefisk which is something I have tasted here only once and cannot fathom anyone eating, but they do.  Pg. 185, " Lutefisk is cod that has been dried in a lye solution.,  It looks like the dessicated cadavers of squirrels run over by trucks, but after it is soaked and reconstituted and lye is washed out and it's cooked, it looks more fish related, though with lutefisk, the window of success is small.  It can be tasty but statistics are not on your side.  It is the hereditary  delicacy of Swedes and Norwegians who serve it around the holidays in memory of ancestors who ate it because they were poor.  Most lutefisk are not edible by normal people." I am vindicated because I finally here in MN found a fish that I cannot eat, lutefisk.  Before I met it I would say that given a choice I'd always opt for fish, but now at these dinners I opt for the Swedish meatballs right away. 

There are references throughout to the statue of the Unknown Norwegian in town, other characters including Evelyn's sister, Flo who want the  traditional church wedding, and Evelyn's secret lover Raoul.  You gotta read it to get it! 


I borrowed "The Overton Window" by Glenn Beck from a friend and wondered  when it would get better.  It is vintage Glenn Beck with lots of far out ranting.  If you ever see Glenn Beck on TV you can hear him reading this novel  about Noah Gardener successful businessman in his father Arthur's PR firm.  Trouble begins when Noah meets Molly Ross, a revolutionary subversive.   I would have waited a long time to read this and not missed a thing.  It is far out, shades of political nonsense such as we are now living and yet beyond that.  I hope this does not forecast our future.  I have a  2nd cousin who is an LDS church member and way more conservative than I am.  I remember hearing her views years ago about this New World Order plot.  Well the Overton Window is just like that, New World order and beyond, where do we run, where do we hide.  Fortunately I'd had a good laugh with Pontoon before reading this.  Typical Beck where at times the writing stimulates  thought, one memorable  part, on page 7 "..people think about age and experience in terms of years but it's really only moments that define us.  We stay mostly the same and then grow suddenly at the turning points."