MIL photos on Sepia Saturday 92 (Click here for the Sepia Site)



Behrndt girls in black dresses, Cloutier girls in grey dresses

 Without a story this week because time is a'wastin' I will show two more photos of MIL, Florence.  This first photo was taken in Fountain MN, which is about 60miles from La Crescent today on a good highway.  I suspect this photo might have been taken in about 1922-23 when Florence was 5-6 years old and the roads were not so accessible. I am told that Esther, the mother was quite a driver and  would drive any distance in the old model car.  Charlie, the father  could drive as well but did not enjoy it so left the driving to Esther, certainly different for those days.   The identification on the  back says "Cloutier girls and Behrndt girls in Fountain."  Somewhere in the genealogy we have  found the name Cloutier and believe they were relatives perhaps cousins.  On the left  back row is Aunt  Bernice,   standing with the  three Cloutiers; in the front  left is Florence (MIL) who must be about 5 or 6 years old,  and to the  right standing in the dark dress too is Aunt Marie.  It appears they are squinting into the sun.  Notice the dog is prominent in the photo as well, appearing to turn its head just as the photo is snapped.



About 1933-34 Behrndt's without Myrtle



The above photo is one of the very few of MIL in trousers but there she is seated on the ground and appearing to be wearing dungarees.  Standing from left to right are Aunt Marie, Aunt Ruth, Charlie Behrndt--their father and Aunt Bernice on the right.  Seated in the very center is Esther, their mother.  And Florence on the ground.  Although the fenders of the auto in the background look newer than  1934, I think this is prior to Florence's first marrigage to Diz Morrison, Jerry's father.  Aunt Myrtle is the only sister missing and she may  have been married and living away.  At this time there are no grandchildren which helps to confirm the approximate year.  That Aunt Marie is dressed up more than the others makes me think she had come home to visit and was already married to Uncle Tommy, not living on the farm.  Aunt Marie would have been most comfortable in the dungarees so it is odd to see her posed, almost at attention.

This is my Sepia post for the week.  As always click on the title to see others from the host site. 

A glimpse of life in a Pickles Cartoon

One of  our favorite cartoons which our local newspaper does not carry but which we enjoy when in PA is Pickles.  Brian Crane’s Pickles is a laugh-out-loud comic strip gem that features Earl and Opal Pickles, who have been married for over 50 years, it shows the funny side of family and friendships. Earl and Opal share their golden years with their 30-something daughter Sylvia, her husband, Dan and their beloved grandson Nelson. Their dense dog Roscoe and cynical cat Muffin also enliven the Pickles’ household. Whether observing the differences between genders and generations or taking a wry but sympathetic look at life in the twilight years, Crane’s good-natured wit and dry humor are just downright funny.

Well yesterday on my various errands here and there I was in West Salem, WI  delivering a small end table to the refinisher.  West Salem is home to a fabulous bakery, Linda's which has been designated as the best in Wisconsin.  I never go to West Salem without a stop in Linda's to purchase various delicacies for home and to treat myself by consuming  something special with my coffee right there in the bakery at a table.  

 Yesterday morning was a day of such a treat and I thought of my Grandma Rose who made delicious pastries, the likes of which I have never mastered.  But then when there are real bakeries here opposed to those in the grocery store that  are OK, why bother to try to out master the masters.  It is always a difficult choice and Linda's is always busy with locals buying, ordering special occasion cakes and folks just treating themselves.  Yesterday was no exception.  I chose a  gooey calorie laden Danish pastry filled with cream cheese and apricot and made my way to a table to savor the treat.  So many options and certainly a place where my eyes can get "bigger than my stomach/"  Something else Grandma always said about me.

There  as I sat down and nodded were two elderly couples at separate tables talking about driving, how they do not drive at night and how they do not go very far these days.  They agreed that driving was not so much fun anymore, too many people in a rush and their conversation moved on to differences in aging as one couple mentioned they no longer drive to Arizona for the winter, but fly.  They admitted to not being so sharp in reflexes today as they once were and I thought how very astute these people are to recognize their declining abilities with aging and to not plunge ahead as they would have in their younger days. Astute and considerate so they do not put other drivers at risk.   I was at a table off to the side close enough to overhear their conversation, but able to gaze outside as though I heard not a word.  Then a young mom came in with her toddler son and took the child's table ahead of me.  Soon one couple left.   The remaining couple had their treats to finish and the husband looked at his wife and asked, "Who were those people?"  "How should I know," she replied, "I thought you knew them."  I had to keep my face toward the window as I stifled laughing out loud.  The young mom, burst out with a gale of laughter though and looked at me.  The couple just kept eating their  delicacies oblivious to anything comical happening. 

Just like a Pickle's cartoon, life  shows  us funny moments if we can just catch  and appreciate them when they come our way.   Everyone I told this to laughed out loud today. I am going to have to subscribe to a daily Pickle's if available over the 'net. Here's Earl speaking about donuts.  Hope this makes you smile.
 

Sepia Saturday 91 Hidden stories in photos (Click here to go to the Sepia site)

While my photo this week may appear to be one of folks merely enjoying travel, standing or admiring scenery, there is a story  behind the faces, an unsuspected tale of secrets, jealousies, pettiness and revenge amidst the  unsuspecting.  These two photos are not that old, certainly not Sepia quality, taken in  June,1980 the year we drove to Minnesota from California to attend an aunt and uncle's 50th wedding anniversary.  With  the three of us, we took Jerry's mother (MIL) Florence and her husband, Jerry's  stepfather and (FIL), Lyman Larson.  It was her eldest sister's Golden anniversary and they could not have gone otherwise; so as a dutiful son, Jerry with my agreement, he says at my urging, invited them to come along.

It amazes me to look back to those years when we 5  grown people Jerry, Steve who was 16, myself and the two inlaws all traveled in our  cab over camper truck the entire  approximately 1800 miles, one way.  Today, Jerry & I have another new  luxurious 40  foot motor coach, with slide outs for travels, our retirement house on wheels.  But back in 1980 we thought we were right uptown with the camper.  There is no way I would squeeze into any such accommodations today to travel and certainly  not with four others, but back then we did.  Steve rode mostly in the back except when he shared in the driving.  We had  4 drivers, Jerry, Lyman who drove bus in Los Angeles, myself and Steve, so  we planned to  drive right along through the night, alternating drivers, stopping only for gas and making the  journey in two days. 
 


Arrival in  Minnesota, left to right
Lyman, Jerry and Florence

 By the time we arrived in Minnesotta about 70 miles from our destination, Jerry, Steve and I  knew we were  down to three drivers, but we kept that secret.  Lyman, though well intended had started to doze off on his driving shift, which Steve and Jerry both noticed from their seats in the cab; the agreement was that at night  another person would stay awake with the driver, so while Jerry tried to merely rest his eyes, Steve was wide awake.   I was snoozing in the back of the camper with  MIL.  Steve made Grandpa pull over at the next stopping place and took a shift, while Grandpa Lyman was shifted to the back to bed, and I staggered to the front cab to snooze.   This photo shows Jerry with coffee cup in hand after pulling the longest shifts driving, insisting that he was not in the least tired so that Lyman would not feel it necessary to  help drive.   If Lyman ever realized that he had been permanently relieved of driving, we never knew.  Jerry just said, he could drive and did so with infrequent help from us two.  

Our return trip involved sightseeing stops and overnight rests at motels; we were not in such a hurry to return home and Lyman had wanted to see some of Yellowstone and other sights.  He was enjoying not having to drive for once in his life and maybe a rare if not the only trip where he could just sight see.  We returned through  the Black Hills of South Dakota, the badlands, and Yellowstone.  We have many pictures of this trip, but the following photo is one that sticks out for Jerry and me after something I  read early this year, 31 years later.  Lyman died in 1990 but Jerry's mother, Florence is still alive at 95, in the local nursing home with dementia but physically pretty good. 

1980 at Yellowstone   Lyman, Jerry, Florence

You can see in this photo that Lyman is enjoying the sights; this was just one of our stops in Yellowstone.  I recall when I took this photo that Lyman had mentioned to be sure to get copies of the pictures for him when we developed these because he had lost his camera somewhere on our trip, or so we all thought; we had even back tracked when he discovered it missing.  It was filled with memories and photos he had taken on the trip, relatives, the family gatherings and now the sights, well the sights until the camera disappeared. It was kind of unusual for him to take so many photos but this was a different trip for him and one he wanted to remember.  Generally all the trips to Minnesota were he and Florence and while they were younger their daughter and son.  Lyman was so very upset but said at least he was seeing the sights and that was worth it and if we shared photos it would be all the same to him.  Florence standing there with her coat collar covering her mouth to shield the smell of the sulfur from the hot spring behind, Dragon's Mouth. Later when Lyman saw this photo he teased about having the Dragon Mouth out there with us, referring to Florence.

Here is where appearances are most deceiving and most unrevealing.  Florence had been in some sort of snit after we left Minnesota, none of us knew why, but she made it her mission to make sure everyone became miserable.  When her misery was not shared by the rest of us,  she declared herself ill and demanded that we get her home to California  quickly.  Jerry vehemently told her that we were going to see some things as planned and that we could stop at a local emergency room to determine what was wrong with her.  Suddenly she was no longer ill.  We never knew what had set her off, but went along our way and did tour Yellowstone, enjoying its wonderful sights. 

Flash forward to 2011, when early in the year I was browsing through some of Florence's writings in the calendar/journals she kept, before we tossed them. There it was 1980, June and so I thought maybe she had some reflections about the trip.  She had written very little about  her sister's Golden wedding anniversary and other visits.  But, she bitterly wrote how she did not want to leave Minnesota to just drive and see sights as Lyman and Jerry planned.  This was not a surprising statement because she is a very self centered person, quite selfish at times, has been all through her life.  Jerry recalled many bad decisions she made, over the years always thinking of herself and her needs.  But then, reading the remarks she made along the journey home, came the revelation of how twisted and evil this woman could be.  

It was in the South Dakota Badlands when Jerry, Steve, Lyman and I left the camper to walk along an area and just observe the vultures circling.  Florence intended to suffer and had been saying very little, but said she did not want to see the dirty birds or the hills.  So we all left her in the camper at  the parking lot.  And she wrote...."..Well I tossed his damn camera in the trash and I covered it up so they could not see it.  While they walked along I saw to it that he would not have any pictures......"  Although nothing really surprises me about MIL at this point, I was astonished and called Jerry to read it himself.  He too was astonished and commented something like, "Well that old witch did it, that's what happened to Lyman's camera!" 

She never said a word when the four of us searched and backtracked several miles looking in vain for that camera.  Yet she very well knew what she had done.  Why?  Who knows?  Jerry said, that explained her "tantrum" along the trip, not getting things her way.  And yet, he admitted over a lifetime now he can look back and see how she was manipulative and vengeful. I consider it downright mean.  So today when people may think, what a sweet old lady, we know differently for many reasons, one being the missing camera.  While we wondered if she ever told Lyman what she did, we think not.  That is the story hidden behind this photo.  We will never look at it the same way again.

As always, click on the title to this post to go over to the Sepia site and see others' photos and tales. 

Four sisters as little girls Sepia Saturday 90

We have just returned home while I read that Alan, our SS host,  is off for sunny Spain, an example of how we are all at different spaces  and yet united  by sharing our old photographs here on Sepia.  I have missed this the past weeks and did not get to  view as many as I planned, but then life often changes or plans for blogging. I will go with Alan's suggestion of little girls and offer a photo of Jerry's aunts, taken before 1917.

We know this  because his mother who was born in January 1917 is not in the photo with her sisters.  From the ages of the aunts in the photo and the years of their birth,  I suppose this may have been taken about 1915 or 1916.  Bernice was born in 1912 and she appears to be about 3 years old, while  Marie, who was born in 1910 could be about 5.  Aunt Marie gave us this photo many years ago because she was tossing stuff out and I was there helping her with paperwork, so I rescued it from the waste basket.  She laughed and said, "oh that old thing"  Well it is that, but scanned and shared it has lots of Sepia memories. 
Starting to the left, the eldest girl sporting the black or dark colored bow, Aunt Myrtle, standing Aunt Bernice, To the right Aunt Ruth and at the bottom Aunt Marie.  All are gone on now and all except Aunt Ruth lived into their 90's.  Bernice was the red head in the family and was a no nonsense person all her life, she appears ready to go standing there behind the sisters. 

4 Behrndt sisters

Their mother, Esther, mailed this photo post card to their paternal grandmother in Hokah for a penny.  Hokah is a distance of only 8 to 10 miles from where they lived and farmed in  the Pine Creek area of La Crescent but in  travel limited to horse and buggy, there were not many visits.  Notice the penny postage stamp and the LaCrosse meter stamp.  La Crosse is across the Mississippi river, farther than Hokah but it had the post office.

Esther apologizes saying, "not very good" and inquires about other photos that she had taken when they visited in Hokah.  Yet considering where it has been and what it has  heard in its 96 years, it is quite a family treasure.  Jerry likes this because it has his grandmother's writing, in pencil no less.  Another amazing survival.

I wonder what will remain 90+ years from now of our writings?  Will the cyber world preserve us or will we fade, muter than a 96 year old pencil written card? 

This is my Sepia Saturday post.  Click on the title above to go tot he Sepia host site and link into other's  sharings for the week.

Farewell to PA,,,,,no place like home

Tomorrow AM we depart Mt. Top for home, two days on the road and if all goes as planned we should be back in our home late Wednesday.  I confess I am starting to feel about this area the way I felt when I left in 1963 and when I would come back to visit---I cannot wait to leave!  I am tired of the traffic and the hassles, the challenges with the house, and just being here for the 3rd time this year.  I am even tired of our coach and the daily commute back and forth around the hills and across the bridge from Mt Top to Lower Burrell.   I suppose I am just good and tired.

Yet I focus on the positives--seeing  long time friends again, participating in the  50th HS class reunion planning, and meeting folks here on the hill; the trip has been successful.  All we need is a buyer for the house.  All is well, thanks to Jerry and his skills and handyman talents and willingness to work maybe more than he should.  Imagine having to hire a contractor to build the railing he constructed on the partial part of the cellar stairs  where there was none.  Imagine finding someone around here to do anything small for a decent price.  Just imagine and the thoughts you can conjure  can be magnified by ten at least. 

When my old folks were alive both my mom and aunt complained how tough it was to find someone to do work here, to fix things. For a time I thought it was just because they did not want to spend the money.  Now I know differently. Once again, we never know until we step into the moccasins.

Enter the rip off artists, the scammers who dwell around the area and prey on the elderly especially.  There was one such guy in particular, Eddie, whose last  name I will not share here, who  replaced Mom's roof every two or three years until I intervened;  when I sold my aunt's home I found a receipt where  he had visited her too and replaced some parts of her hardwood living room parquet floor but only once.  And then going through documents at Uncle's home, even good old  Uncle Carl, another master handyman himself,  encountered  Eddies tentacles, but only once for a minor outside porch railing and fascia repair. The realtor tells me she has encountered tales of Eddie many times and if he is at one home in a neighborhood, pretty soon he is in action at most.  While his rates were not exorbitant, the suspicion is that he was not doing the work.  Eddie  charmed his way around the old folks.  It was not until one of my long distance calls that I questioned why she was having roof repairs and replacements so frequently.  There after, I managed to put a stop to that long distance, reaching from  California where I lived.  I heard that Eddie was ultimately sued by employees whom he had not paid and either left the area and or stopped his contracting business. 

Having been involved with trying to get work accomplished this trip I certainly share the frustration of locals when they need minor handy work done.  I am thankful for Jerry's skills and I am thankful I do not live here.  I am chagrined  that I could not find another lawn service and will have to rely on my nephew's company, though they do a lousy job when they do anything.   When we arrived none of the shrubs nor hedges had been pruned, so we did all that ourselves.  I tried calling other places because I doubt they will cost anymore and perhaps a stranger will be more reliable.  But no luck.  Most of the lawn landscape services do not come from the Pittsburgh area to Lower Burrell.  One reliable tip from a local friend was in vain because the young man is a school teacher and unwilling to take on anymore lawns now that school has started.  He obviously is a man who wants to work, supplementing his teaching salary with lawn care.  Oh if there were more of that level of ambition around.

Tonight I cooked  a  large chicken breast  using half the box of  the Betty Crocker Chicken Lemon Herb Helper mix for the two of us along with mixed frozen veggies and big tossed salads and delicious sliced tomatoes which we bought at the local farmers market Saturday.   When I see these Helper boxes at home, I quickly turn up my nose, and I think, "how lazy can you be?"  How hard is it to cook up some meat and noodles and make a sauce.  But in the motor home, easy does it.  Although I do have a small shelf full of spices, I have begun to appreciate these quicker dinners.  This one was very tasty, all I added was an extra shake of garlic powder and  several squeezes of lemon juice.  I have never known a recipe or mix I could not tinker with my adding or adjusting. 

The tomatoes from the Lower Burrell farmer's market are outstanding, large red, juicy.  I bought a basketful to take home and  3  big slicers, the last of which we will use tomorrow for BLT's at the end of the day on the road.  The MN tomatoes have been down right lousy this year  while this area has outstanding produce.  Oh  the plus and minus to all things, striving to create balance.

Another  accomplishment is I have not a trace of the right  strained/sprained Achilles tendon that has been annoying me since early June.  I believe that my new SAS sandals deserve credit.  Just as much credit to Carlie for revealing that her best therapy for plantar fasciatis

I have been doing 3+ mile walks around the RV hilltop, enhanced by going down and up the entrance hill.  This has helped keep the calories  from accumulating.  The weather has been lovely this trip. The visits have been good and yet, I am ready to depart PA.  Now that the tendon is healed, I will click my heels  together sharply in the AM and say,  "...there is no place like home, Toto, there is no place like home..."  I look forward to home and staying put for at least a month.

A knock at the door and......

Yesterday AM a knock on the motor home door revealed an elderly man who stood outside, ready to enter with a pair of moccasins in his hand to not track in wet grass or dirt.  Trouble was, we had no clue of his identity.  Jerry was mystified as the man began to enter and asked, "can I help you?" to which the man replied, "I came to sell you something." to which Jerry replied, "well I have a house to sell you."  The man looked at him as if to say, "what is wrong with you, get out of the doorway and let me in."  I appeared, took one look and thought, "oh no another elderly man who should not be out driving, he's confused."  When I asked who he was looking for, he replied, "Bauman's" and then suddenly realized that was not us.   He said, "oh am I at the wrong place?"  We said yes, we did not know them, but then he said, "Well I saw your HHR and thought...."  Six  spaces down at the end of our line was another motor home with an HHR.  We suggested that might be the right one and he laughed, "well I wondered why there was no one outside to greet me, They told me to make a left at the hill and I guess I made one left too many."  Obviously he was not totally confused.  He drove his car down to the other motor home and there his friends awaited.  When we returned back yesterday  afternoon we noticed his car and theirs were still there.  We laughed about what he must have thought when Jerry offered to sell him a house.  Can you just hear him telling his friends, "Those nutty people wouldn't just tell me I was at the wrong place, he wanted to sell me a house."  All's well that ends well but after posting the event on facebook, several others have had similar experiences at  motels, etc. where children or adults came in to the wrong place. 

  I recalled an episode from Marilyn,  my Louisiana rose friend, who jumped right into the passenger side of a waiting pick up truck outside the post office to the astonishment of her husband in their truck and the man who was in the driver's seat waiting for his wife.  Marilyn then, the epitome of southern lady charm said, "well, tell ya what I'm gonna do, just get myself over there to Myron's truck.  Bye now."  She was only in her 50's at the time and not senile and all had a good laugh.  But I thought about how immediately I suspected the gentleman at the door of having dementia when it was just a simple mistake.  I suppose these things jump out of my head because of recent years dealing with relatives with dementia.  Last Sunday's Valley News Dispatch here featured a front page story of a man diagnosed with dementia at age 36, now 42 years old he resides in a nursing home unable to feed himself, unaware of anyone and wheel chair bound.  A friend and I discussed how tragic that is and it is surely one of the youngest people to get a dementia diagnosis.

This AM I enjoyed two cuppa's from the new Keurig  B31 that I bought yesterday at JCPenney's, Mills Mall for the motor home. It will stay in here and travel easily.  Carlie had given me an assortment of teas and cocoas leaving me bound to buy the Keurig now and it was on sale at JC's.   Although Jerry disdained my purchase  because he brews and consumes a pot of Folgers each morning while I prefer better coffees,  this morning he allowed as how the Keurig might be quite handy on the road when he wants just a quick cup of coffee.  This baby brews 3 sizes, 6, 8, and 10 ounce however my tall travel mug does not fit into it but  Jerry's squattier travel mug does.  To this discovery  his eyes said, "never mind and hands off my mug. "  Not to worry at home, I have a big ceramic mug that will do and or, I may now search for a squattier travel mug.  I bought a box of Paul Newman's extra bold because I enjoy strong coffee and also because I buy other Newman brands and have never been disappointed.  Besides they donate all proceeds/profits to worthwhile charities.
Today is a meeting with the realtor and a discussion of whether or not we can winterize the home or if we will have to return again  late October to shut off water, etc.  Regardless I am looking forward to a good month at home.  Things could be far worse, this area is not in the path of Irene. 

We had dinner at the local Anchor Inn last night which was just as busy as ever.  It is time for me to go home as I just could not decide what to eat, I was feeling picky and settled on a  grilled chicken salad while Jerry had a big heaping  open faced meatloaf sandwich with mashed potatoes, etc. However they do make delicious pies and yesterday's was coconut cream a favorite of mine which I never make because Jerry does not like coconut.  But I did  get a slice to bring back to the motor home and had a taste last night later.  It is sweeter than I like and enough for  3 servings, kind of the size that Marge's in La Crosse, WI serves.  Which brings me to my last  comment, why serve so much food.  I never finish mine  and really with the obesity problems in this country, serving sizes need to be smaller.   I can understand why there are so many heavy people especially if they eat out all the time and consume it all.  Really other than those who do hard physical work all day, nobody needs that much food.  Now I know I am channelling my Aunt Jinx, skinny all her life who could eat with the best of them, but who always noticed when an overly large person was eating a lot. I guess some people only think they get their money's worth with huge portions.  I should think a smaller portion at a lower price would be preferable, but that's just my opinion.  And what do I know, I immediately  think an old man at the door has dementia.

Another step on the road to selling the house

Yesterday, Teresa, the Lower Burrell occupancy inspector called, came to the house, looked things over and passed it fully for the home inspection.  The only  repair she suggested but for which she did not fail the inspection was to  continue the handrail along the open side down the cellar stairs. Jerry will pick up some lumber today to do that.  And here I had "worried for nothing."  I was so  concerned we'd have to change out the  cellar door from the garage into a metal fire safe, but when she saw the garage under the porch and how it was all steel and cement she was not concerned.  Actually she was not concerned about anything. We are not complaining!

We were very pleased.  I talked to her quite a bit about things, and  though she is young enough to be my daughter, she grew up in the same hood as I did in New Ken.  Maybe that helped.  Hers was the last class to go through Jr. High at our  old Ridge Ave School; she lived off Catalpa (my Street) on  Ridge Ave.  Her aunt who passed away from cancer graduated in 1963 and likely I might have known her but I did not have my Taleoken with me to  look.   Evidently Teresa is a single Mom with a  10 year old  daughter and lives in Lower Burrell.  And she does not go to any class reunions.  I asked her why because I am curious why locals don't attend, and she explained that their class really doesn't have reunions and further she did not like most of her classmates, she sees who she sees and has no interest in the others.  I am learning that later classes are not like our class of  1962; perhaps we were the lucky ones, we lived in the area in the best of times, most of us hoofed or biked and so school and the community were our social focus.  Today with  everyone having an automobile it is different and the closeness no longer exists.  How sad, I think, no memories to anchor nor to reminisce about.

After talking about the estate sale, she mentioned that she goes to all local estate and garage sales and then realized she had been to ours. Turns out  she bought the easel and several paint brushes and boxes of pencils and pastels for her daughter.  I am happy that the artist supplies went to a young person who loves art.  She said her daughter was thrilled because she loves to paint.

Have to confess that our idea of a home inspector was not Teresa, we expected an engineer type and she is only a high school graduate.  She has a piece of paper which lists so many things and she merely signed them off.  I also learned she has no computer when we  talked about linking up with classmates on Facebook, etc.  I asked her in amazement how she does her job.  And she replies as though I were not quite bright, "I use this piece of paper and take it back to the office and someone else can do the computer.  I don't know anything about that."    Astonishing to me that here she is working for local government, one of two inspectors and no computer skills.  So it goes.

So we celebrated last night back in the motor home by finishing off the ice cream.  Oh we live it up! 

August 24, seven years ago

Hard to believe it has already been seven years since Mom died in 2004 on this very date.  Still harder to believe that here we are back at the old home grounds in PA.  I'll make a quick visit to the cemetery today when we go over to finish up at the house today.  She had an Alzheimer's diagnosis and died of a sudden heart attack soon after that diagnosis at  80, the baby of the  family of siblings.  I have said before that her death was a blessing as the years ahead were not going to be  good.

Well the work goes on, yesterday Jerry & I worked like doggies trimming hedges, etc. at Uncle's house so that it  is all neat and pretty outside. I love working outside, but at my leisure not task driven as we are.  I still have one small side  along the house to clear of grasses amongst the lilies.  I had trusted nephew to do this through his company of lawn and landscaping,  mistake.  Well we are done now.  A realtor from Howard Hanna, the  real estate company that we have is on  TV now touting the great  real estate market in Pittsburgh; I wonder what planet she lives on, because on the outskirts  17 miles away as we are the market is very depressed. 
 

Rumblings yesterday with the earthquake  from DC all the way up to New York.  Some claimed to feel tremors near by but we felt naught in Lower Burrell.  And I know earth quakes after living 40+ years in California.  I think that it  hit DC is a sign that our founding fathers are rolling  seriously in their graves at the state of affairs in our country today! 

Raining and windy  here at Mt Top where we park our  motor home.  Sigh, we left hedge trimmings, ivy, etc in piles yesterday to pick up today.  This rain is a day early proving as usual Mother Nature is unpredictable.  We were just too tired out after a full day working to clean up the clippings.  I did have one small sack which I took to the local city run recycle center.   That was when I stopped back into the city office to inquire about the inspector whose call I am still awaiting.  We would like to go home on Monday as we planned but we need to have their inspection done; so far there are no interested buyers but it cannot be sold  without a city inspection.  PA government and worse as it is up to local boroughs and municipalities.   I want to be ready just in case some buyer appears and I do not want to have to hold up the process.  I know this is very wishful thinking with the real estate situation here.

I find that I get remorseful at the house....I should have and I shouldn't haves  plague me.  I realize that what is done is done and yet when we need something that was there and is now gone along with all house contents, I regret my decisions. At the time I kept asking Jerry if we should save more tools, implements and he too said, "no what for.."   I did not face this predicament with aunt's home in 2009 as that  house sold fast and we were not back and forth so much.  In fact we managed that long distance with email, fax and the realtor.  Now that's nostalgia,  wanting this to go the same way.  No more whining.  No more shoulding onto myself!