On the road avoiding Gandolfo

It has become foggy along the interstate 90/94 , splotchy in parts, but we are onward, southward avoiding the more wintry blasts of Gandolf  set to arrive over the weekend, the mixture of letters  from that winter's storm name rearranged becomes fog land which has arrived  across Minnesotta. 

Our weather channel shows it is to be 60 degrees in Springfield, and that sounds perfectly wonderful.  I am nervous about traveling in fog, so as we approach Madison it clears.  Still it cannot  match that terrible tule fog in which we lived in California, the grey dim dankness that hung around for weeks, chilling the mind and bones.  I am partial to sunshine, the brightness, the balmy warmth.  We have enjoyed a nice winter so far with temps upwards near 50 degrees, sunny and no need for heavy parkas. 

Blog postings for the next month will be very periodic as we journey.  Exploring possible purchase of real estate for winter, a place or pad to dock the motor coach in late fall, fly home and then fly back for the winter is under consideration.  This goes against our primary inclination which is to not remain in one place whilst on the road.  We  like motor home traveling, after one area loses its allure, we can move on to the next.  There is so much to be seen in the country, why stay put until one has to do so confined by illness, age, or host of other debilitations such as financials.

We have found that traveling in our coach is economical, despite the cost of diesel fuel.  We are comfortable in our own bed too.  So off on this wintry journey,  southward.  Time to add miles to the Excursion in 2013.

Obituaries, "But wait what lurks there?"

Deserted bluebird box  along
backside of garden  

I have a habit of reading the obituaries, in the paper each day, not as necessary here where we do not know near the  people as when we lived in CA  for more than 40 years, but the  habit stuck.  The only reason we still subscribe to the daily newspaper is because Jerry reads it cover to cover with his pot of morning coffee.  I often do not read it until later in the day  or maybe even the next day or not at all.  But yesterday, as usual on a Sunday, I set with the local rag and the St Paul Pioneer Press which I pick up each week for more state level news and the reviews of plays, books, theater.. 

My friends father joked that he checked the obituaries first  thing each morning and if he did not see his name, he knew it was a good day to get on with the daily drill.  So yesterday afternoon after laundry, church, brunch and a nice walk in the cold outdoors, I was astounded when on the obituary page I  saw  my name, Patricia L Morrison!    I said to Jerry,  "Good Lord, I died!" and while he was tuned to football on the TV he said, "what?"  Well the woman  was older than me and lived  across the river in Wisconsin and in FL,  but sure enough there it was.  A very odd feeling, especially because it was a tiny paragraph, promising more later.  And then I said, "hey no body called to see if I'm here!"  Well  they'd seen me at church and after all the people who know me here know where I live and  my age, so the vitals did not match.  Still, don't you think someone might have commented?  A few week ago another Pat Morrison submitted a recipe for a Twinkies cake and several people commented on that, no it wasn't me.  But the obituary?  Not a word, today I laugh.
 

I understand that in in 1888, Alfred B. Nobel, inventor of dynamite, awoke to read his own obituary in the newspaper, a careless error made by  a reporter.  His brother had died, the death of the wrong brother was documented.  Nobel was shocked by reading his obituary that described him as “the dynamite king, the industrialist who became rich from explosives.” This  was his call to action, and he 

 resolved to change the course of his life, and to do something positive for society. He left his entire fortune to be awarded to individuals who have done the most for the benefit of humanity. The result was the Nobel Prize – five prizes awarded each year, the most notable of which is the Peace Prize.

I doubt I can top that, but it is an off putting feeling, ala Scrooge looking at the ghost of Christmas yet to be..  I had a doctor's appointment today and all is well, a simple  check up.  I forgot to mention to my  doc that I was reported dead but all evidence indicates every sign of life here.  We are packing up to head south in the motor  home and this will be a dandy story to share with friends along the way.  

Time and pens in retirement

 "Retirement that will be the time of our lives, wait and see" my colleagues and I often pondered how great it would be, no more early AM commutes, no more bureaucratic and legislative meetings, no more long hours when we didn't know  when we'd get home, no more canceling our vacations to take care of ever constant program emergencies:  we anticipated having all the time to do all we wanted without intrusions.  In reality time is a  4 letter word, an evasive wisp, and if not guarded oh so carefully and jealously, it will be tinkered with by others, stolen one moment at a time, accessed by intrusions, from others who would take our time.. 

This past week, I once again rejoiced that  I have time, now, being retired so I can spend my time chasing around and following up on what does not happen as planned or promised.  I spent several hours on the phone following up about RX insurance cards that had not arrived on time with the change in our health care supplemental coverage.  Not that we had changed plans because we get  a good deal through my former employer, but the system was being changed.  No longer one card, we'd have two, one for all  medical except for RX drug coverage and a separate for drug coverage.  Welcome to Obysmal health care, more government control, more paperwork, more mess, more things that will not work.  One card arrived, mine not Jerry's.  After online attempts, which are usually my first choice, I  resorted to phone.  I learned after finally reaching a human being on the phone after looping around their system five or six times, spinning  the merry-go-round,  that the check is in the mail, not all went out in the same batch, our system needed more adjustment time than planned and on it went.  I feel sorry for those who "man" the phones, call center staff, they don't screw up the works but they get to explain it to unhappy creatures, like me, the customers. 

Another time waster  was from  XM Sirius, the purveyor of our satellite radios.  We like our satellite radios, it allows us to listen to programs traveling where we otherwise would not get reception.  And at home we tune in to Tom Sullivan on Fox Talk radio.  We enjoy Tom, knew him back in California.  But when I  go t in my SUV on Wednesday channel 126 was gone, a recording suggesting other channels.   No longer on the air.  After I returned home and got on line I learned  that  yes indeed XM radio had dropped one of my favorite channels.  Grrrrr, I am an unhappy customer, same rate less of what I want to hear.  So I called to express this frustration.  Their call center mysteriously named "Listener care"to hires people who cannot understand nor speak English very well.  I hate that, I live in America not South America, I want to hear and speak to someone who understands.  Too bad for me, likely my problem, I must be a bigot of some kind for even thinking that.  After one patronizing "listener" repeated to me "don't you worry that's why you called here...." That's the English translation which came out as "dooon u wareeee" I explained to her in very plain English, "I am not worried,  I am annoyed, I am angry."  then following her  script, she offered me a free radio just for calling, all  I had to do  was pay shipping...WTH?    I told her that I did not want a radio, I have perfectly good radios.  I wanted the channel back that they dropped.  She repeated, "don't you worry I will feex it...."  I lost hope.  I asked if I could speak to someone who could understand me.  She said she would "see,  now don't you worry,"   put me on hold and after a few minutes I hung up.  I know I'm retired, nothing better to do but be the hostage to the phone....I called back and expressed my outrage again which they assured me they were recording. Well isn't that special?  After the phone fiasco  I  sent an online protest and an email to which they promptly responded, "A representative will be in touch with you...."  I don't want a representative, I want Channel 126 back, period.  I have done all the complaint lodging I will do.  We will likely cancel our XM subscription for both radios, the portable which we take in the motor home on travels and the one in my SUV.  I suspect this may have been a deal with the FCC to approve the XM Sirius merger last year, nah that wouldn't happen in America would it? 

For my favorite pens time is up refills needed 

I also spent time this week  in Office Depot  and  another office supply store while feeling like a throwback to the stone age.  I go to those places to buy thumb drives, computer paper, computer chairs, maybe a printer, but do not attempt to get a "refill for a pen."   People, those who work there look at you strangely, like "where are you from?"  One young man carefully explained to me that pens are all disposable and do not need to be refilled in a tone that conveyed mighty questions about my sanity or my knowledge.  Well I know I have disposables too, but I have 4 pens in particular that I love, they are in the photo above, I have had them for many many years.  And finding refills, each one different and not the normal Dr. Pilot kind of plastic refill, is a search.  The blue  pen and pencil set, two bottom ones in the photo with my initials inscribed in gold were a gift from Mom  over 30 years ago; she and Barney must have gotten some sort of deal  from the local jeweler and chose to gift them to me, and while  I gushed over them to her, all the while wondering, I have come to cherish them over the years.   I love the feel of them in my hand.  I have plenty of lead for the pencil, but the pen has been empty for  many months.  The white pen is about 35 years old,  very special to me, another gift this from a friend  who is not on the planet, but who is always in my heart.  The biggest , 2nd from the top in the photo,  could double as a weapon because it is very heavy and it is just perfect for writing.   I wait and wonder where I will find refills each time they need them, all three are different  making it a triple challenge.  All three are now out of ink because I set them aside one at a time until later on when I have time to go looking around for refills.  Well the time has come and now the fun begins.  Perhaps on our travels I will stumble across an established  store for  people like me who still use non-disposable pens.  The time has come, the search is on.  My pens need ink.  

Ecclesiastes 3:1-8 tells us all about time,  "To everything there is a season and a time to every purpose under the heaven; a time to be born, a time to die, a time to plant......"  So here you have it time, the universal measurement limited or in abundance, it serves many and goes along without regard to our human striving to keep it.....

2012 exits tonight



"My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near"

If I had to choose just one poet as my favorite it would be Robert Frost.  While scanning and sorting more photos I  found these photos of Uncle Carl with horse and primitive sleigh.   No identification of dates or place but I am thinking this is the late 30's or very early 1940's before World War II looking at Carl as a young guy here.  Where in Pennsylvania  who knows.  When I saw the horse drawn sleigh I thought of, no not Jingle Bells, but Frost's  "Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening" a poem I have used through my life for different events. I have put quotes from that poem with these photos, it seems to suit them, don't you agree?  One of my projects for the coming year  is to create my own greeting cards using thoughts, sayings, poems, reflections. 

What is that tied up into the tree behind the horse in the first photo?  A box?  For what?  A marker for the hunt, but I see nothing to confirm that and this looks like a wide open field,  new  snow or the last of it ?  So many questions and thoughts generate from just a couple photos. 

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.

 

"Promises to keep" the refrain that ends the poem was the theme I used for my Business and Professional Women's presidency year back in the 70's in California.  It's an appropriate refrain for life, much to do and press on, "...we have promises to keep and miles to go before we sleep."  The political leaders of this country would do well to read and understand that refrain. 

Now  in moving to the New Year which will happen  quietly here for the two of us, we have no desire  to be out and about on this of all nights.  Jerry laughs, "It's the worst of nights, too many amateur drunks out there."  The warm comfort of our home suits us just fine.  There is much to be said about contentment.  Truly I do not think I have seen a  midnight hour since I don't know when, my eyelids will not stay open that long, so tonight will be no different.  Tomorrow is the Rose Parade and bowl games, we here on the Wisconsin border will be rooting for Wisconsin in the Bowl and watching with interest,  Monty Ball, Wisconsin Badger go to guy and whom I say is my cousin.  Based on the DNA research that Ancestry.com has done for me I have 7th and 8th cousins all over, so who knows.  Somewhere in the Ball genealogy are many secrets.....This New Year's poem by Edgar Guest is a great way to close the old and welcome the new year.   Happy New Year to all of you.. 

Friends are the family we choose

A good blog  friend sent us the most lovely Christmas card, Bea,  yes you did, with a wonderful photo of a cardinal on a snowy branch. with handwritten lines, "friends are the family we choose."  So very true.   Here we are two empty nesters anticipating  more of the care free life and at a time when we  should be free of responsibilities tying us down.     I miss my old folks, or maybe it's that now I am the oldest survivor,  the family historian.  For whoever cares.  That's the point, hardly anyone does care. We have been thinking more and more about things in general this year and how to begin to really live our lives as we choose, not by obligations dictated by the needs of others.   Tomorrow is promised to no one. Good friends recently reminded us of that; another good friend  has suffered strokes and is now debilitated.  We have been blessed with good health.    



December  2012 Florence right seated, blue and gray
 in the SNF with Santa, the annual Christmas party.
For someone who will be 96 in January, not bad.  

 Our retirement move here from CA was to provide a better quality of  life for ourselves. However we had another problem, that remains with us, MIL,  who continues going rather strong physically just as she continues further along the dementia road at almost 96 .  Wherever we moved we had to bring her along and  at the time she still had a sister, aunt Marie living here so she was amenable to return  home to MN.

Florence in the middle uprooting  Jerry and his sister,  Dianne
from MN  for CA 1950

Jerry is a saint he deals with everything without any assistance only from me,  although he has two siblings, neither of whom are involved and neither of whom would be even if they lived closer.  In 1950, shortly after the sudden death of her mother and despite advice and pleadings to not do so, MIL  left MN with Jerry and his sister for CA , to  marry Lyman.   Jerry left CA  returning  to MN alone to live with his grandfather and then enlisted in the Air force at 17, stretching his age to enlist. After Lyman died in 1990, MIL became Jerry's responsibility. She has been one of those women having to be cared for, looked after by someone else all her life and it has worked for her.

Florence and Lyman their 25th anniversary in CA

My career in long term care along with my family gave me an abundance of expertise and experience yet it is tiresome.  Jerry's  full sister has been dead for several years but the other two, his halves, the  younger Larson children,  roll along merrily without any responsibility for their mother. I suspect if they think of anything, could be that they will not inherit the $$ they thought they would; it is being paid to the SNF which has enhanced our lives. Still it is the  overseeing, frequent check in visits, follow ups with medical issues, appointments, my doing laundry, keeping her in clothes, buying, and on it goes.  We have more freedom to travel today yet hesitated to plan too far ahead, the back of our minds nag,  "what if...."   It makes me laugh out loud when some of the "family" say that they would like to come to see her, but then they never give up any part of their lives or plans and so they merely chatter along.  So many excuses.

But slowly we are working through this trial just as  we have others in our lives. Today we booked a 20 day land tour and cruise package to Alaska for August 2013 John Hall's Alaska, the Klondike, the works.  It is expensive, but we are also looking forward to spending our  hard saved money while we can.  Here is the link to the tour package by a local MN company out of Lake City.  They will even babysit our car and take us to and from Minneapolis for the  connecting flight.  http://www.kissalaska.com/   Destined to become good friends,  that's what happens when you lack family, you choose friends. 

Our own plans are going to take first place, if we do not do this for ourselves,  there is no one else who will.  Besides all that, we deserve it in spades. It's a new attitude.  Make way for us.  This is our time of life,  our friends have assured us of this repeatedly.

Merry Christmas in Blogland 2012

1950 sign by Uncle Carl

Merry Christmas to all my blogland friends, followers and passers by.  Sometimes life gets in the way of blogging as it has here.  Despite my vows to keep things easy, and doing less this year, there is much that took up time which has rolled oh so merrily along.  I have had to be off blog, postponing  Sepia posts until later.  

The Noel sign is another done by my late Uncle Carl Konesky.  This year, as a present to ourselves coinciding with the Michael's framing sale we have framed several of his sketches from the late 1940's while he was attending art school.  (See my previous Sepia  post  this blog  on November 3,     http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=6733427454505364336#editor/target=post;postID=1589432087801379346  This Christmas sign is the smaller version of a larger one he did for a local merchant, his mock up and I share with you for the sentiment of the season.  As soon as the last are framed, Carl will have his own gallery wall in the bedroom entry. 

The  funniest card we have received this year came from Chris, grandson of another late uncle John Irwin and because we both got such a laugh I scanned it so you can see it too.  This is the  kind of mindless activity that can happen if one does not pay attention and I know that all too well.  I don't think I will look at a hand dryer the same ever again and those who may find me chuckling  while air drying my hands at these will probably wonder what's with me. 

Laughter, memories and the many contacts from long time friends in the lives we lived long ago are the best of the season.  Hearing from longtime friends once a year makes the season bright.  Fondly exchanging gifts with friends afar and buying or making   something that we know will be  enjoyed brings holiday cheer.  It takes a little thought, a bit of perspective, recognition, recall, all those caring gestures that in the commercialism of the holiday seems to have ruined the effect for so many.  Nothing wrong with point and click ordering so long as there is thought put into it,not so, for "this."  

We chose to spend $$ generously on others who are appreciative.  I don't mean falling all over us but simple sincere prompt thank yous.  Besides the young hard working bar tender putting himself through the University by working and shoveling snow and mowing yards and not living at home but really out there on his own, the garbage collectors, the paper delivery people, the postal delivery woman, and a favorite waitress, we adopted  two veterans from our local Mosher Home and bought everything on their  wish lists, which were sparse and down to earth, Listerine, white socks and gift cards from Burger King.  

We were not  sure if we would be home or on the road over Christmas but here we are.  Likely for the best because the snow blew in sideways this week, coating all with that wintry white.  Had we been in Mobile, AL as thought we would have had a worse experience  as they had tornadoes.  All in good time, we will head south.  Texas is calling loudly. 

Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, and partridges in pear trees to fellow bloggers.  

Shoe trees on the Mississippi and season transition




Shoe trees along the Mississippi

  When we would visit  family here while we lived in CA, Jerry would call out, "shoe tree" as we passed by this grove of trees along Interstate 90.  I never paid much attention even though that was prior to having a smart phone or tablet to distract me while he drove.  

After  living  here all these years, I seldom pay any attention to these trees now, although they are spreading from what was a solitary tree to several.  Because they are unusual  and native to our area, at least we have never seen them elsewhere on our travels, I give you these La Crescent Shoe trees.  Another phenomena is the wide diversity of shoes, heels, boots and sizes now  adorning the  limbs, what began as tennis shoes has mutated into all styles, something for everyone.    These remain all year long, through rain, wind, snow, sleet and sun.  Less visible in the spring and summer when the trees are leafed out, they are starkly there when the trees are barren.  Likely some young individuals get a kick out of contributing to the blooming. 

 While our December weather continued  to be balmy on Saturday, I stopped to snap these photos of the shoe trees.  A cousin  going along the Interstate noticed us and called later to ask if my shoe shopping was successful.  

Close up of boots, styles, shoes, notice the Nike

Likely most people unfamiliar with our area or just passing through do not notice this native species.  There is a small turnout along this grove, but then  no other place to turn along the I 90, so likely if someone saw the shoes growing, they would scratch their head and wonder what they might have just seen?  It's a part of the river road!

The very next day we did not travel the interstate because winter arrived.  People who have lived here forever need reminders of snsnow driving techniques, lest they become ditchers.  If you follow me on Facebook you know that from these wintry wonderland photos.  The first snow of the season has arrived and we are all white.  The front rose garden has transitioned to white glow,  from this

to this

with the freshness of seasons changing dramatically.  OOps  I must retrieve that apple basket   autumnal garden flag...it has been blalmy for so long that I forgot it.

Look at the miniature Alberta Spruce to the left,  resembling
a woman wrapped in cloak and arms folded infront

The front bayberry bushes from this

To this

You have the gist of it, we are white and ready to enjoy the cleanness;
we are most fortunate here in the Coulee region, our streets and
roads are always  clear and we are not bound inside.  Unless we so choose to be. 

Squirrels three in the tree

While our unseasonably December  with green grass and the good weather holds, inspite of a cold bite to the wind, I like to get outside to walk, breathing in the cold crisp clean smelling  air.  So, Wednesday I walked a couple miles  up town to the post office, library and stopped for a short visit and back home again.   Along the way across 11th street as I  walked up the hill across the ball park,  I heard a  lot of noise like squeaks and creeks.  When I crossed the street I could tell it was coming from this tree, which you can see looks ill, greatly split and gashed as if it needs to be taken down.  I wondered if the tree was preparing to commit suicide and end itself right there in front of me.  I needn't have worried. 

A closer look made me laugh at the trio of squirrels who were inside, standing their ground and yet so loudly warning me to keep away, stay off, do not approach, halt right there!

Fortunately  I had my smart phone along to snap these  shots....if you look you can see the gray trio, two  departing up the  limb and one still inside.  They were so comical as these critters can be,  all atop each other, six beady eyes looking at me  and all chattering in protest, "We told you to stand back!"   This photo surprised me, what was that, look at the y of the  limb that is most right in the photo.  Is that another critter crawling away, a possum or hedgehog, could it be?  Maybe that's why they were so excited, it wasn't me after all..

Go on, study the photo more closely, it is just another limb indeed that has been  taken off or broken, but for a moment I thought I'd captured wildlife in action.  Appearances can be deceiving....we do not always see what we think it is at first glance. 

As I walked along, I created this little rhyme 
 
Squirrels, squirrels in the tree
Why are you so ticked at me?
I am merely walking by,
I  won't touch your nut supply.  

Squirrels,  three you chatter so,
Do you miss December snow?
Is it odd for you to see
Grass so  green beneath the tree?

Squirrel trio,  do not fret
There will be a winter yet.
Mother Nature will  soon blow
Icy northern air with snow. 

Squirrels up that limb so fast
Do not flee I'm almost past.
Store your nuts and hide them deep
All the winter yours to keep.