Overwhelmed and under slept

Just when I think it's safe to go back in the water---oh wait that's sharks. I have been off blog for so long because I have been too darn tootin' busy. I thought I was retired but with estate work, power of attorney and trying to keep our heads above water here (there's the water again) I feel like I have a job. At least it feels like employment without the compensation, because I have little control over my time. Well, I can choose to not do something at the certain moment and wait another day but then it all piles up.

My friend Sandy, in CA, has cautioned me about time loss in retirement but even Sandy didn't tell me it could get this nutsy! She's frequently said, "everyone wants your time and it becomes very precious. Days fly and you wonder where they went or what happened." Time our elusive wave in the ocean. Everyone thinks you have all the time in the world when retired. HAH! I have so many projects pending--when can I get to them?

I keep thinking of water because I would love to be somewhere on a beach right now! It is wonderful to be back home after PA but so much to do. How can weeds in an untended garden grow over 5 feet high in 3 weeks? Sure would be great if cultivated plants did that! Thrived on neglect. We did not plant our vegetable garden this year because we expected to be traveling. Little did we know the travels would be back and forth to PA.

So I think headway is underway and instead it is the head lights of oncoming traffic. Something like that--the light at the end of the tunnel is oncoming train.

Well boo boo freakin' whoo--you get the picture. I am overwhelmed or at least feel that way these days. Have not yet completely unpacked the treasures we brought from PA. The antiques we shipped arrived safe and sound and were delivered by the same two young men who packed us up in PA. That surprised us and it was nice to see them. They sure work hard. We gave them a nice $$ tip when they left here.

Sunday Jerry took it upon himself to begin to unpack. I had mentioned that I could not find the gold flatware set I'd brought from my aunt's. I wasn't really looking for it, just curious. So his interpretation or attempt to help meant he unpacked a couple boxes of what nots and set them into my Grandma's hutch which we have downstairs. Well that was not helpful as I have certain ways of doing and displaying things. His design did not fit my design. I don't know why he does that because he surely would not want myself arranging things in his garage or shop. Oh but he thinks this is different because it's his house too. So Sunday which I'd wanted to be my leisure kick back and read the Sunday papers day, I had to rearrange and then unpack other things to keep him away from those boxes. It really ticked me off which he could not understand so we replayed our episode of Men are from Mars. He still does not understand why I did not just appreciate his help. And as another friend reminded me, "in 5 years what difference will it make?" None. In fact in 5 days it won't make a difference but it did at the moment.

I thought that I had a buyer for my aunt's home. That is until this evening when my realtor called about results from a home inspection report taken on by the potential buyer. I'd already negotiated down in price because I agreed to pay for 2% of the buyer's closing costs; at first they asked for 6%. I said no way. That means about a couple grand off our proceeds at 2% but I figured it was worth my being able o scratch this off the list of estate tasks. This is a biggee. Reportedly the buyer is a single woman who wants to close by September. Also suspect she is a first time home buyer with out cash down. But supposedly she has a loan secured and the house did come in appraised above our listing price. Well with tonight's demands she better find another house. I said if there was anything shown up in that inspection report it was tough. My same response to my realtor tonite. I hate being nickled and dimed. I hate bartering and negotiating. I am not a rug merchant! Well we have not yet been on the market and I know the house is a gem. So back to square one unless they concede they will fix the "radon" and some hokey business about the electric box, themselves. The electric box as Jerry explained is a higher level than what is needed. Jerry said tell them to go soak their heads. Water again! Home inspectors privately paid look for things to make their fees seem worthwhile. Well the woman now can continue to house hunt and my realtor better get to work selling.

The estate sale will be Saturday and I surely hope it goes well. Another estate task pending until.

Ahh I could get into a black mood and think I celebrated way too soon. But I must trust that if it is right it will be. I know I first turned down their offer when they did not come in full price and they came back two days later with , "OK.." Maybe it will be so again. Or here's a thought, they can take the fix it cost our of their commission, my realtor as Lister and the buyer's as seller! Realtors, maybe a step above used car salesmen!

So here I am at blog again--only it is far too late for me. I have not been sleeping very well off and on. I figure a good night sleep will come sooner or later. Usually I just lay in bed and rest but tonight I got up and came to the computer. Perhaps this is not a good thing because it tends to awaken me...awaken, heck it's already 1:37AM! I'm off and up to bed to lay there till these big brownish eyes close!

I'll count blessings--instead of sheep as the old song goes. First blessing, that I am retired because could not handle this if still in career mode; another, our health reports are good on both of us. Jerry's cardiologist check up went great with another clear for the year and "keep doing what you are doing." Another, Uncle Carl is amenable in assisted living even though he still thinks he should go home. Another, I signed up for Medicare effective in November...oh but I need to find out how my retirement system handles that. Another phone call I need to make...ahh even counting my blessings runs into tasks to be done!

PA Updates on shortman

Finally at the local library 'puter. Enjoyed a great meal and visit last night with Carlie, Pam. Bev, Kathy & Sam (Kathy's brother who accompanied us for Jerry's benefit...so Jerry would not have to listen to all the women.) Rich stopped by too, my old friend, attorney, etc. Who is always good for advising Jerry that he can represent him here in PA! Kathy asked me earlier that day, "Is Jerry going?" To which I said, "well if he wants to eat he will!" So she suggested Sam come along so he could have someone to talk to. That was nice, but actually Jerry is getting quite used to these PA gatherings with my friends. After 42 years with me he doesn't get worked up about much....

Except when he goes into what I call his Jerry-Bob-Jerry mode. Sandy knows that's the combo of her Bob's spirit with Jerry! Both small men, with big attitudes at times. Jerry would not listen to my advice to not pack those clocks until the estimator came. "No it's fine. When we moved Mom from CA she left all her drawers filled." My comment, "But that was different, it was clothing, not valuable heavy antique clocks." "Well I know what I'm doing. And these are my clocks, Jinx wanted me to have them remember!" Oh yes and I know he's quite proud of them! I am destructively anti-mechanical and realize my own limitations! For some one on a retiree schedule which is not at any special time, I'm amused at his fascination with clocks. Likely the mechanical thing again. Who knows why? watches.

So Jerry spent a couple days packing the antique clocks securely into the dresser drawers of the antique bedroom set we'll be shipping. When the estimator from Wesleski Moving arrived she said the clocks could not ship in the drawers but must be in separate boxes. That set off the short man Jerry-Bob-Jerry who "knows what he's doing." He proceeded to show his packing job to which she turned a blind eye! This annoyed him no end, and he amply expressed his displeasure. To which I glared at him, like, "shut up....she's the expert. Let it be." Oh no. Has to get in the last word. Finally he departed to the basement to check on a load of clothes in the dryer. I apologized to Mary Ann and we both laughed, "it's a guy thing."

I have not seen this behavior since his actions with our contractor when addition was underway. It surfaces periodically. Would not tell him, but it's the short man complex in action!

Same with my friend, and attorney, Rich. Wonderful guy, but the same stature as Jerry and quite capable of displaying the shortman attitude. What is it with me and these guys!

Oh of course Jerry did not let it go. The next day when he went to their office to pick up the boxes, he talked to one of the guys....who agreed with him and said, "ah that dumb broad" or whatever name it was...So now even though he has repacked the boxes with the clocks as advised, under protest. He is once again right! After all the guy, an older guy (translate knows what he's doing, been in the business forever) agreed with him. "We like to have the weight in the drawers. Look at all this paper I have to shred from packing...waste of time." Ahh, male chauvinists at work.

Otherwise things going as well as can be expected. Unfortunately the TV in the motor home has given up! This is not amusing as it's only from 2007. The TV works in the bedroom but not the big one in the front. Ahh there are worse issues to deal with. Will handle it when we get home.

PA update funeral and status

Here we are in PA. Tuesday was my aunt's funeral & heaven smiled with perfect mild weather. The service was held at St. Mary's in New Kensington, our old family home church, founded by the Polish immigrants in the 1800's. Rusciewicz, our long time family funeral director set it up there. I requested two hymns, "Be Not Afraid" and "In the Garden." George, the music director chose of all things, the Matka Boscwie (sp??) which I remembered from way back. It's a Polish celebration hymn to the Blessed Mother! I was amazed that the words came back--it was a perfect send off for Virginia who loved to speak Polish now and then. As the casket left the church with Carl and me behind it, I could not help but smile! Billie, the Bethany Hospice Chaplain accompanied Carl on his other side. So meaningful.

The church did the finest--a nun read the liturgy and selected the passage from the Book of Revelation which I would have chosen--behold I am creating a new thing.... Rather than the altar boys we had an altar girl! I know my aunt liked this. The priest's homily was perfect. At first I trembled, because she did not want to be talked about--I wondered from my pew between Jerry and Uncle Carl! "Oh no, what will he say!" The father told a wonderful Arab parable about how we all meet death. I know she'd have liked this story--after we return home I will add it here as I have never heard it either. Uncle Carl finally got it a bit and I noticed a few tears, which he quickly wiped away as he did not want me to see that. To him I'm still the kid in a lot of ways and he's the adult.

Her house is jammed full of so much stuff that we are overwhelmed. Yesterday Jerry opened 3 60-gallon containers--massive drums/barrels which were sealed in the basement. (Jerry has been hanging out in the basement uncovering no end of treasures while I try to deal with the upstairs main floor) These drums contain thousands of yards of wonderful fabric--I quickly grabbed a cream one with gold tole print and 6 yards of a gorgeous screen print! Then I stopped. I cannot begin to go through these to select more. I sure hope the estate sale brings quilters, sewers, some one who can use this wonderful find. So much, too much.

I even find myself passing on the 12 piece place setting of china, which I have no room for at home. It would match our sets, but we already have more than what we need. So hopefully someone will buy and appreciate it--it's from Montgomery Wards, Style house, silver trimmed, lovely. I have to pass up so much because I have my own collections. Thank God for the wisdom I'm growing to pass up this stuff. Not that there are not so many items to bring home. And Jerry is finding treasures that he could not imagine--his focus is on old tools, wood. He found my grandparents old wooden tongue and groove breadbox! We are taking it along with a magnificent silver carafe set of sorts, likely from the Irwin family. Solid heavy old silver with a bell to call the servants in the old mansion. Trouble is all the carafes were wrapped in plastic and have cracked--still a priceless find with ornate human heads on the 4 feet. It is about 18" tall. I'll photo & post here after we return home.

Well I am at the library and my time is nearly up so I must sign off. One last accomplishment which is bittersweet. I took Uncle Carl to the doctor who convinced him to go into a personal care home. I know he will adjust eventually and is amenable so far. What a blessed relief to not be worrying about him falling down or of his wanderings off. The neighbors now have peace of mind too. 91 years old and he has outlived his mind. The doctor said his body is slowing down, his blood pressure was only 100/60 Thursday! Who knows where mine hovered!

Tomorrow we will go to my friend Kathy's place in Mercer for a party/reunion and that will be our break. We have been busting our buns day and night. I now see the benefit of Jerry's strategy that we bring the motor home--it forces me to leave. It forces me to leave the "scene" and give up my churning! It is overwhelming clearing her home.

Yesterday Jerry mentioned an Agape Mission Thrift store at the Methodist church nearby. I didn't think it was open, but he was right and we stopped by. I delivered 10 boxes of clothing of all sorts. The women were thankful and said it would sell. Aunt Jinx was so tiny that I am skeptical. But they provide clothing free for those who come with county vouchers, so that is a good thing. I also donated a beautiful plaster head of Jesus to them. I have no place for it and I thought the church would be appropriate.

I wish people who she knew would come and take something, but they like we are already set with all they need. Randy, the neighbor across the street said, "I need nothing." Monday a lady will come to give me information about how she will hold an estate sale. She is a referral from a friend so I hope this works. Monday the real estate agent will be there for me to list. She believes this house will go quickly. She had just sold the home down the street and has 3 potential buyers already. She was ecstatic when she came to the housed, "this is beautiful, immaculate and move in ready.! I have not seen anything like this for many years. "

So we hope for the best and are grateful for the watchful eyes of the folks from beyond. Library time up!

Sandra Brown's "White Hot" Read

On my way out the door, I must include this book. If I let this set aside until we return I'll surely forget it. Sandra Brown is one of my favorite trashy reads. She's not that trashy, no f-words, none of that, but she's hardly literate. Sandra Brown is always a good woman's read and some call it a thriller genre. "White Hot" is the saga of the Hoyles in Destiny, La. From the Daddy who rises to own the foundry by marrying the owner's daughter, the book chronicles the saga of his children. It culminates with Danny's death and Sayre's return home. Sayre is the long estranged daughter. After the cemetery, burial Sayre meets Beck Merchant, the hired attorney, loyalist to her father and family. The story really ends with a surprise so I will not give it away! This has to be one of Sandra's best. I loved it and will pass it along. A great summer read!

Helps from Beyond

My aunt Virginia passed on Tuesday. We'd been on alert vigil with hospice beginning July 2 on our way home from WY. I last talked to her on July 4 by phone while the hospice nurse was there. I told her she could close her eyes and sleep peacefully now, not to worry about a thing, I had it all handled,that I love her and she had been like another mother to me. It was hard for her to talk but she did and said, "I'm trying to just go to sleep." So when the call came at 4:45AM Tuesday, July 7, I was expecting it.

I've made all arrangements through Rusciewicz funeral home there. They have attended to all the funerals in my family, grandparents and perhaps even my grandmother's father. It's a long time Polish relationship. What a good thing!

We will use this photo for her obituary which I will not run until we arrive in PA. It was taken at her 50th high school reunion, several years back. It did me good to look through old photos when her life was good. I especially love the big black and white one of her at PPG driving the forklift! I wrote a story about her back in 1989 while I was enrolled in a state/federal intergovernmental year long executive program. somewhere I still have that in my collections and will have to get it together with other photos. She enjoyed a full life up until this recent siege with cancer. Age 87 is enough. As her husband, my favorite Uncle John would say, usually when someone had passed and people were sad, "Just how long to people have to live anyway before they can die.?"

We will be in PA Saturday when I will tell my 91 year old Uncle Carl, her brother. I just prefer to do that in person. No telling how his mind will take this. And too he might just forget.

Aunt Jinx was adamant over the last years that she wanted no funeral, no viewing and that's fine with me. But talking with the funeral home, Bill asked, "do you want a mass?" I agreed that for my uncle's sake and probably mine too that would be good. So we will have the mass and then go right to burial at the cemetery on Tuesday July 14.

So yesterday I called the church to request two hymns--In the Garden and Be Not Afraid. No problem. About an hour later, Bill Rusciewicz called me and the conversations went like this. "Pat how are you doing?" "Oh good, we will be there Saturday." "Pat, you called the church to request a couple hymns?" "Yes." "Well, trouble is you called the wrong church. You called St. Margaret Mary's." "Oh I thought that's where it would be. My uncle goes there and it is closer to the cemetery." "No, I have it for St. Mary's in New Ken." "Oh that's our family's home church, where I was baptized, had first communion, confirmation, etc." "Yes, I know that so that's why I scheduled it there."

Seems I caused some long distance head scratching. When the Monsignor talked to the secretary he knew there was no funeral scheduled at St. Margaret Mary's. So he called Bill.

Well not a problem anyway. Just that I'd been telling people the wrong church. OK so I can make those calls again and tell others when we arrive. I called St. Mary's and spoke with their secretary who had a good laugh. She said, "It was just meant to be." I explained that I always check in at my home church when I'm in PA but that in May I was far too busy to get there. And even though I am no longer a practicing Catholic, there is still that draw with my church (as well as some Catholic practices that stay with me.)

I had to laugh. I thought of Aunt Jinx up out in the peaceful beyond. I believe her spirit has linked up with my best friend Roberta who passed years back. Roberta still has fun with me! I think their conversation went something like this.."I didn't want anything, just to be buried." "Well funerals are for the living not for the dead." Let's have some fun now..." All's well and all will go on. Proving once again that people need to watch over me and my actions. I'm on one of my rolls now---busy, busy, busy....Jerry keeps an watchful eye on me. But this time help from beyond was in order too.

I knew she had her plot paid for right there alongside my grandparents and her husband at Greenwood. But while in PA I could not find any other funeral arrangements. But Bill called me Tuesday evening with "good news." His sister recognized the name and looked through their records--sure enough she had paid for her vault when Uncle John died. She also had selected her casket giving nstructions to them that she wanted the same as John's. So I am thankful I will not have to choose a casket--I was not looking forward to that chore! Thanks Aunt Jinx!

In these last years, I'd just call her Jinx, dropping the aunt. The Jinx comes from the Polish for Virginia, Vircwinka. I can't spell that either.

Now I flash back to the Polish for aunt, "CZOCZI?" I can't spell it but most of my life I called her CZOCZI. One day while visiting in PA years ago, I was in my 30's and at my mom's. I said, "Wonder when Czoczi & Uncle John are coming over..." Mom snapped at me and said, "Don't you think you are old enough now to call her Aunt Jinx? Why do you keep saying that word?" I'd never thought about it, it was a natural to me. It didn't bother my aunt, but my mother? Who knows why, Mom was strange at times. But from that time on I'd dropped the czoczi (pronounced, chouchee). A few years ago,Jinx asked me why I'd quit calling her czoczi. And I told her I didn't know but that Mom had blasted me for it. She said, "Oh you know your mother just always has to say something..." I never spoke much Polish, but as a child I heard it. I can still say some Polish prayers which my grandmother taught me. And I guess I just picked up the Polish and used it.

And another thing. Tuesday I spent so much time on the phones between my cell and home phone. I'd be talking on the home phone and the cell would ring, and vice versa. So tiring! I commented, "I am sick of these phones!" Bingo yesterday after Bill's call, I tried to call my dentist to reschedule. No phones. Of course the cell still worked. But all the phones were off. It seems there was a massive power outage all over town. A cable had been dug out during some road construction. Phones were off for several hours. So I did get the peace and quiet from the phones ringing! More curves from beyond? Let's help our Patty down there....Who knows....I only know that I've always had people beyond watching out for me. At least I believe that! And now, one more has joined my heavenly hosts!

RIP Aunt Jinx.

So our first Motor Home Rally comes to an end; it was a fun different experience here in Gillette, WY sponsored by Fleetwood Motor Coach. Over 800 from all over the country gathered. We would attend another depending where it would be held. But I will not volunteer again. There is enough to do. We met many fun folks and some not so fun. Here are some of my observations:

People are funny. Today at the feedback session for the Fleetwood owners of Class A's many complained and wanted features that are available. Their problems were that they purchased cheaper models (Bounders) and wanted deluxe features which we enjoy on our Southwind and others do on their Pace Arrows, Revealations, etc.

People who do not drink wine should not be in charge of selecting the wine for cocktail hours. I was horrified to find the cheapest wines being poured from a box. There are many drinkable box wines., but what did these people offer? Chablis and Burgundy by Inglenook! Rot gut! I would not even cook with that. Who has ever heard of Chablis in this day of Chardonnay & Pinot Grigio, Sauvignon Blanc?

People cannot read. Though it was clearly advertised as a women's RV driving school for $65, men enrolled too. Some then argued about the cost which was supposed to be prepaid with registration. That was quite an experience for me. Driving a 40' diesel; primarily spending 2 hours backing up through S curve maneuvers again and again. This was my first ever experience behind the wheel and I had to back up! I, who will drive 10 miles out of my way to avoid backing up my SUV! My instructor was a nice gal from Applegate, CA who drives school bus in Rocklin, CA. Small world. I did it though and never hit a cone! The point was to use the side convex mirrors.Not for nothing was this course called Boot Camp! Me, I just want to go forward! That was not the deal (or should I say ordeal). The instructor said if you can back up the rest is easy. Well for perspective, our motor home is not a diesel, so the air brakes were another story; engaging and releasing the parking brake was a challenge in itself. My 91 year old uncle Carl got quite a kick out of hearing about my experience! I had to hear and was expected to absorb a lot about mechanical functions, which glazes my eyes over. Rolls right over me like water off a duck's back! The instructor said, "well it's good to know." I said, "Not for me. That's Jerry's job." She said "He might need help sometime." I assured her it would not be from the likes of me. I explained that I married a man with technical mechanical expertise; it has worked for me for 42 years and I intend to not mess with success. Besides I just don't get it, have 10 thumbs, and think the way to fix anything is with a hammer. BTW she showed us how to check tires with a hammer--that was my favorite part. I inherit hammeritis from my grandpap; use a hammer! Steve and Jerry would shudder when they saw me with a hammer in my hand. Give it a good pound, that's my philosophy! I left with a whole new respect for Jerry and other good RV drivers. It is not something I'll want to take over; leave the driving to him!

We met Norm and Gordy from Vancouver, BC. They were long time friends, traveling together because one's wife had just returned from an Alaskan cruise and didn't want to go on this trip. We learned that Gordy's wife has Alzheimers an his son is battling cancer. He is carrying a heavy load. Norm wanted to get Gordy away for relief and relaxation. Then he asked if I would send Gordy a card later on simply saying something like "Gordy it was good to see you at the rally! Hope you come to another one!" And Norm said, "please don't sign it! It will drive him nuts!" You get the idea they were fun! Gordy had never heard of sloppy Joe's, so that was all new to him. While he educated us about octopus and how they grow very large before they breed.

Jerry was in his element talking to all the technicians and honchos from Fleetwood. Fleetwood has filed Chapter 11 and of course many RV owners are concerned. But we learned the motor home division has been purchased by American Industrial Partners a investment type firm which only buys up companies who mfg. and do business in the USA. They have holdings in firms which mfg. school buses, trucks, etc. Sounds like a good direction for Fleetwood. Remains to be seen where corporate headquarters will be. Good chance it will remain in Dectur, IL. Not a snowball's chance of CA as those attendees from CA hoped. What company in their right mind would venture to CA with heavy taxation and over regulation? Those who remain in CA know nothing else and cannot understand it. Years ago I heard "mediocrity knows nothing above itself." That's CA.

It has been a week where I almost fully escaped from geriatric worries. One series of phone calls regarding my aunt from the hospice care which set me into motion prevailing upon her good neighbors to help out. But otherwise I did get a break. This must be the purpose of vacations. Renew & refresh.

We heard tonight that the Rally is on the web at RVbusiness.com Check it out.

We looked at many (some more some less expensive than ours) motor homes in the exhibits, for sales, and I did not see one that I liked any better than ours. I think our decor inside and out is just perfect. Our layout is better than most. Jerry found nothing to stimulate any upgrade or trade up desires either. So Hooray for contentment with what we have. Here"s to more miles ahead....roll on!

Dandelion volunteers

I volunteered us to help out here at the rally when I sent our registrations. It would be kind and a way to meet folks! Yesterday I talked with a retired Army Col. & wife who are from GA but who RV full time. I was working at the "welcome wagon" where packets are given to the arriving RV'ers! He laughed "mam., I know you were not in the Army...else y'all would know not to ever volunteer!" No I wasn't but Jerry was Air Force and said the same thing. So there is another benefit to military service--a lifetime learned lesson to not step forward.

Today Jerry has parking director assignment here on the top of the hill where the motor homes will live for this event. Today it's beautiful clear blue sky & sunny butthe wind is blowing. We know it's WY where the wind seems to blow all the time. At least that's been our experience in our many trips to and through WY.

What a small world it is. He met a former customer from his Newcastle, Ca shop! There are several rigs here from CA and this guy was one of them. Also talked with another man from Marysville, CA.

Yesterday's cool rain translated to a trip to Wal Mart to get a windbreaker or some kind of cheap jacket. Listening to him and others I packed very light this trip! And, well you know what happens whatever I don't bring along I need! I brought only a very light sweat-hoodie. It had been warm in MN and warm here--it's summer. But be prepared is the watchword. I was a bit chilly at times.

Funny how in retirement I have become more acquainted with Wal-mart than I was with Nordstrom's during my career. Well maybe not quite. I did have a personal shopper at Nordstrom's. Traveling in the motor home, Wal Marts have become my store of choice--that's not quite as bad as a woman I talked to yesterday who drools when she spots a Dollar Store! Her husband said, "well she gets so little excitement in life now that I humor here by pulling off!" These men!

But the Wal Mart here in Gillette had nothing--not a single sweatshirt, not a jacket, zippo! Very small clothing section in a 24 hour super center yet! Phooey! But all is not lost, a Kmart is next door. Same thing--tank tops, some jr. clothes, capris, nothing with sleeves and very limited women's clothing. So now I wonder what happens when a woman from Gillette wants clothes? Does she drive to Casper? This will be my question of the trip. Maybe they order everything online. Who knows but I will investigate this curiosity. (BTW I found a great lightweight all purpose jacket at the Fleetwood vendor shop here at the rally. Snatched it up at $35; it's a Columbia which I've seen for $65 retail! And it will remain in the motor home! It matches the color of our rig. How cool is that?)

Today though sunshine abounds and I am ok with the shorts and tops I have. Which brings me to the dandelions. Volunteers were given free t-shirts and asked to wear them when on duty so we could be identified as such. Hysterically not my style--mens' type t-shirts in bright yellow with the WY logo in a black circle on the front left--and 3" black capital letters all across the back--"VOLUNTEER' Standing around with others we look like a field of dandelions! Ahh but let's just go along--ok I'll don it on duty. Then the next bit of humor, our coordinator announces, "please wear your tshirts to the banquet so you can be identified and thanked!" NOT NOT NOT, nyet, nunca, no way. I will tie it around my waist but I am not wearing this thing to two dinners! And Jerry, well he's not a tshirt guy either--short sleeve snap western cotton shirts are his leisure attire of choice.

So we will have to have our pictures taken as blooming dandelions. And I too will adopt the military lesson--don't volunteer!

PS I wrote this yesterday AM and then the wifi connection booted me out!It said, "..the maximum # of subscribers has been reached..." Then off I went! Well, I thought how rude, I WAS HERE FIRST!! Why not just deny access to someone trying to sign it. All's well as the draft was saved! I am glad I do not have to reconstruct these brilliant thoughts!

We are in Gillette, WY at the Fleetwood Rally

If you have followed me on Facebook, you have had the day by hour update of our travels. So here we be with about 800 (by tomorrow) other Fleetwood, motor home owners at the first ever Fleetwod sponsored rally. And we learned that this Fleetwood sponsored event is despite Fleetwood being in bankruptcy. But, an investment company from New York, American Family has bought the motor home operation. And a kind bankruptcy judge agreed to allow
Fleetwood to continue to sponsor this event!

We made our reservations in January and thought, we have never been to one, always wanted to..so. Keeping our fingers crossed that life does not toss in more of those flying monkeys that seem to upset and twist our plans.

We drove through South Dakota and I don't remember it ever being this lovely and green and lush. We have been through this area before, but this trip was notable. Crossing the Missouri River was breathtaking--that is how it must have struck the early pioneers. Yet today wonderful bridges span the crossing enabling us to drive over the clear blue waters. Breathtaking. Why travel across the world when we have such magnificent sites here in this country? How many have seen these wonders?

How in the 1800's with covered wagons did they cross these rivers? Driving through this area restores my sense of wonder about our American western heritage and history. Last night we stayed in a pasture set up for RV's by a local SD rancher, outside Wall, SD. Electric hook ups only but that beats Wal-Mart or the road side rest, and the cost $5! Quiet and we rested before heaving onward to our destination this morning. We were the only RV there despite seeing many on the roads. Maybe they went on to the Black Hills and opted for a more luxurious setting. It worked for us.

Near Ellsworth AFB there is a lot of growth and expansion from when we were last in this area--maybe 5 years ago. And Rapid City, SD has grown tremendously! Lots of new housing.

Gillette, WY is an area of contrasts. Mansions dot the hillsides here and there. And downward, trailer homes, modulars run down. Yet continue along and there are huge developments of what looks like thriving tract homes. Neighborhoods in growth. This is the west at it's best, no mistake. Wide rolling lush green hills, cattle grazing, and horses. Moreover, this is coal country and we noticed many train box cars loaded full of coal headed eastward to produce energy. Many individual solitary oil wells too are pumping that black gold from the ground.

Tomorrow we will be engaged in helping register arrivals and directing traffic of motor homes o appropriate parking spots. Motor homes are packed tightly here at the Camplex, a magnificent area with several RV sites. In addition there are horse barns (hey it's WY!) and rodeo arenas, a horse racing track circles another area and huge buildings where the vendors will exhibit all we would want in the RV world and more. The city of Gillette has all one could want--Wal Mart, gas stations, restaurants of any kind, etc. And it is 5 miles from here.

Today I learned something very exciting! I'm registered to take the women's RV driving school! So this eve at a gathering the women were all a twitter! "Are you taking the driving school?" "Yes I am." "Do you know we are going to drive a Heritage?" " A what?" I ask. "You don't know what a Heritage is?" "No I sure do not, I barely know what we have.." So the talk goes I learn that the Heritage is the TOP of this Fleetwood line. A coach worth about $900,000! So I say, "Well if they teach me well, I'll just drive it on back home!" Imagine me driving a nearly $1 million dollar vehicle! Now Jerry who breathed a heavy sigh of relief that I would not be driving our coach at this school has turned a bit green with envy. He knows what a Heritage is and just looks at me! Maybe he wishes he had signed up for the women's RV driving school!

Now this eve I am off for a lap around the complex. I wish we had brought my trike but I will be on foot! After we take some photos, I'll post.

JUNE 20, 1944 2nd. Lt. Lewis S Ball

That's my dad and mom's wedding photo taken at Maxwell Field AL, June 15, 1943. Little did they suspect it would only be a bit over a year later when they would not meet again this side of the clouds. They had met in PA at some Polish family wedding and after that Lou began to come to the house a lot. Helen dropped out of high school to follow him once he had been commissioned. Their marriage angered Anna Ball, his mother who said, "oldest son supposed to marry first." Little did they suspect he would never live to see his only child, me. Louie, that's what they called him, disappeared with his plane and crew somewhere in the Atlantic Ocean on the way back to Charleston, SC. I have read all I can find about the Bermuda triangle.

June 20 is the day before Father's Day this year. Father's Day always tormented me, I always felt strange pangs. I was raised in the home with my mother's 2nd husband, not a nice man, whom she married when I was not 3 years old. I used to fantasize that somewhere my dad was alive and would come back. Likely that fantasy was planted in my head by my grandmother, Anna Ball,my father's mother. She went to her grave believing that her Louie would someday come back home. She told me in her broken Polish accented English, " I never give up hope." I had very limited contact with my father's family though they lived very close. This was because of my mother, I know.

My Father Lewis S Ball was born April 3, 1922 to Frank and Anna Ball in Harwick, PA. I have memorialized him on the American World War II Orphans website. with words from one of his pilot training logs......"he holds the sky..." Without AWON I would not have searched for and known as much as I do today. But then you can read that story elsewhere on this blog. And you can check out my dad's website at AWON, our fathers pages at http://www.awon.org/awball.html

65 years ago, June 20, 1944 at 9:00PM started my mother's nightmare. Pregnant with me, 20 years old, and waiting in a small rented room in Charleston, SC, Helen began to wonder why Lou had not returned. Probably at a briefing--they did that with those flights. And there was always something that held the men up. The flight left Charleston for the Bahamas at 08:30 June 20th. He was a "new" B-24 pilot, appx. 84 hours total flight time through his "quick" pilots training with many others. It was wartime and training was accelerated. They evaluated Lou,"ready to command the B-24. Alert. Aggressive" Aviation was in it's early stages and instruments were rough at best. Today one could not pilot a Cessna with only 84 hours total time!

This would have been their nearly last stateside training flight. Lou and his combat crew 193, 113th group, 400th Bombadier group, 1st Air Force would soon head for Europe. Lou knew it would be England. He feared they would not return. In his gut he knew as did the other B-24 pilots, this was a bad business. Lou shared this fear only with Henry, his baby brother back home, swearing Henry to never tell that "your big brother is finally afraid. But if anything happens, remember that your big brother trusts in Heaven and God and you must too."

I learned this from Uncle Henry in 2002 at his & Aunt Pearl's 50th wedding anniversary in Grass Valley, CA. Uncle Henry was true to his vow to his big brother, he never said a word. That evening at their wonderful celebration my Uncle Henry hugged me and said, "Patty you are my only relative here tonight." I kidded with him and said, "Not so, there's Pearl and Larry and Diane and...." But he said, "no you know what I mean you are the only real Ball." As a present to Pearl and Henry who insisted NO Gifts, I'd copied photos of my dad in uniform with his parents and Henry as a boy when my dad was home on leave. Had these framed and mounted into a nice display which brought tears to Uncle Henry as he looked at his long lost brother. Larry Ball has that display today. Fitting because Larry, Henry's son resembles his Uncle Louie a lot, especially Henry said, in attitude, the kidding around, the love of family. That was my dad according to Uncle Henry. Everyone loved Louie! Just like they all loved Grandpap Frank Ball.

I've wondered how much they briefed the stateside B-24 pilots about D-Day. He surely knew something BIG was up in Europe. But here he was, one more maneuver to the Bahamas in the clunker B-24. Oh how he'd wanted to fly those P-38 fighters. Wasn't that every pilots dream? How did a boy from Harwick get into this mess! By choice, yes he'd volunteered. Oh his mom was so angry with him. After all she already had a son in the war, his older brother, Eddie. That was enough. But not for Louie! A post card which he never mailed to her reads, "don't worry Mom. Everything will be all right. We just have to trust in God." What faith, yes Lou was a devout Catholic boy. He'd been selected for pilot training after basic and his time as radio operator. How thrilled he was then. How happy. He'd made it big time!

Helen never knew of his fear but she knew he would soon ship out so she was in Charleston. She wanted as much time with him as she could get. He didn't have near the time to himself these days that he used to have in pre-pilot days. Back then he even had time to take photos of the other men. Photos I have today. No time for that now. Lou was ever consumed, busy with training, school, flying. I have some of his pilot study notes. They are in his big scrapbook which I pulled together to take with me to AWON conferences. It's a book that keeps growing!

But fate was cruel, that night 20:00 June 20, 1944 they radioed, "low on fuel, heading for Jacksonville...." Combat Crew 193 lost radio contact, they never returned from Morris Field, Bahamas. Were they near Jacksonville? Were they off course? Did the B-24 suddenly run out of fuel? Was it such an old clunker that there was a fuel leak, slow but not noticeable until critical? Or, were they flying low along the coast, as instructed, and did a German U-boat, surface at the same time. It would have sighted the plane and that would have been the instant end. I have several letters of detail about the search. Life rafts were dropped but found empty. But had those rafts been in the right area? How far off couse were they? Too many unanswered questions.

The young wife waited, but the men at the door were not Lou. Search planes and navy boats took off from Charleston. Never a trace found of Combat Crew 193, the 9 men (it was a training flight) and for me, I lost the father I'd never know. I'd enter this world in November, 5 months later. I have missed him all my life.

I watched the news and ceremonies at Normandy this year. I am always overwhelmed with feelings of gratitude for those who defended our freedoms. I have disdain for those today who trade our freedoms for socialism and who have a cowardice attitude while promoting talking, for those who blabber about our use of torture! Just imagine what a county we would have had if so many brave men like my father had not paid with the ultimate sacrifice! Imagine that just as I often imagine how my life might have been so very different if my dad had made it through.

Another read only worth mentioning

East of the Mountains by David Guterson

I tortured myself months back trying to read this book which I picked up somewhere, enticed that it was a hardback and even autographed by the author. That's most of the positive in it. It proves that an author who writes one good book may not do so again. I loved his "Snow Falling on Cedars", but this "East of the Mts." does not make the cut.

I struggled through page 230 of its 276 pages before shoving it onto the floor near my night time reading chair months back. I found it yesterday while vacuuming. Maybe it's a man's book written by one for them? The story line sounded interesting. Presented as a narration by Ben Givens, retired heart surgeon, new widower, who learns he has terminal colon cancer. Ben takes off into the Columbia Basin of central Washington state to avoid suffering further from the cancer and end his life. Well it doesn't happen. His trials and encounters on this journey were just bizarre and tortuous. He has flash backs to his military service days as well. I found it boring. Too boring to remember.

Some decent writing in this tale of woe. A reference to the heart...page203, .."in knowing the heart in this cold way, he had lost all innocence about it. It was not that he didn't believe in love, but first he was a scientist, a physician, and a man of reason. He'd manipulated the hearts of human beings and he thought he understood that when we speak of love, we speak of something transitory, something gone when we go. The heart for Ben was tangible, and nothing tangible remains."

This reference to sadness on page 206, "He felt removed from the world. Suffering suffused everything." Well I've felt sadness certainly the past year. But this book was a drag. Disappointment was what I felt reading this first edition, autographed by the author and published in 1999. It will be donated to our library book shelf or sale.

Compare the baby pics



My baby picture



Received an email last month from my cousin Carol who snapped a photo of the photo that hangs in her home of my dad as a baby with his oldest brother, Eddie, who was her dad.

I just love how cherubic they both look.

If my dad is about 1 year old in this the photo must have been taken about 1923. I just posted it onto Facebook and then the thought came, all my life I've been told that I look like my dad. So here I compare a baby picture of mine (Sepia pink) with his. I am not a year old in my photo, only many months or a few, but the face and the eyes. Oh yes.

Bars in MN

Sometimes I think I am a stranger in a strange land living here in MN. Last night a friend from church called and asked me to make some bars for a funeral service at our church on Friday.

This makes me laugh out loud and she wonders what's funny. Well, I am a great cook and baker, but bars?! I'd never heard of bars until I moved here. When these women, many of whom are tea totalers started taking about bars I could not figure it out. To me "bars" are a place where they serve adult beverages. But no, here it is a type of cookie , baked in a pan, that can be cut and eaten with fingers. I told her that is one thing I have not the slightest clue how to make. I confessed that I never heard of bars anyplace else in my life until arriving here--not in PA and certainly not all my life in CA. I would be happy to make cookies or a cake, but she says no, they requested bars. She being a life long Minnesotan, in her 70's and hardly ever venturing outside the state cannot believe others don't know about bars.

Well, who am I to complain? I got out of a task by explaining I don't know how to make these things. She asks if I never made rice krispy bars and I say, "no, we made those in mounds or balls." I do make lovely scrumptious Vienna Bars, but they have a meringue topping and are not eaten with fingers but are enjoyed on a plate with a fork.

Perhaps I am just totally undomesticated? Throughout my career years I might occasionally bake something, cookies or a cake or even cup cakes, but most often I'd contract through a local bakery. Everyone was just as happy. Especially me when time was more important to me than the minor cost of buying from the bakery.

This causes me to laugh about something else--I don't know when I joined the list of the funeral ladies? That's the women who make things for the funeral lunches at our church. After all, I am hardly part of their in crowd, being a transplant and all. I'm not invited to their ladies long established circle groups and mostly I avoid their coffee cliques after early service. Yet I have been asked to contribute to funerals. I guess one does not have to be lifelong local to do that. Sometimes I haven't a clue who's died. Other times I've not been in town or not reachable when they call to solicit. Since they can't wait to catch up with me to enlist my skills I usually avoid the duty. So once again I have escaped funeral duty. Only this time it's thanks to the bars.

That's a good thing now because I can barely keep up with my gardening, blog, facebook and readings and don't need to master the making of bars. :)

PS: Sunday's paper, June 14 had a page of bar recipes. How coincidental?

Two more reads

Growing Up With Clemente by Richard Peterson. Published by Kent State University Press.
I am not a baseball fan but growing up in PA I was a fan of the Pirates; we went to games occasionally and back then they were not the best team in the league. But when they won the pennant that was a big deal. And everyone knows Roberto Clemente! I had this book with me at the Legion's Blood drive in April and the nurse taking my blood commented, "oh Clemente! Are you a baseball fan?" To which I replied, "no but this book is a memoir of a time and place in Pittsburgh, PA." I was surprised the young man knew Roberto Clemente!

Last year, I read an articles by Richard Peterson in the Pittsburgh Post Gazette, nostalgia about the days of 'yore in Da' Burgh! I wrote a follow up letter of my own memories of growing up there and what I try to hold onto. This is a memoir of his boyhood in the south Side of Pittsburgh in the late 50's; then his journey as a gas station boy at Hoders; a big time move up to stock boy at Gimbels Department store; and finally his realization that he would need education. Where he ends up is professor emeritus of English at southern Illinois University. Though New Kensington, PA is outside of 'da Burgh, there are some similarities to the times of the steel mills, the industrial waste, and the ethnic communities. I especially enjoyed his reference to his mother who always wanted him to come back home to Pittsburgh to live; he never did.

Some descriptions of his sandlot days were not really interesting reading to me. But I did enjoy the book over all and recommend it to my PA friends, especially the guys. He tells how he read in literature how one can't go home again but how his father's death brought him an emotional shock that made him realize what he'd left behind. I can relate to what he felt when he did return to Pittsburgh to visit. He quotes Norman Mailer, "To return to an old neighborhood and discover that it has disappeared is a minor woe for some but it is close to a physical catastrophe for others.." So because I share with Peterson fond memories of a better time in the good old days of thriving New Kensington, I enjoyed his memoir.

"The Truth about Hillary" by Edward Klein. I read this last year and did not get it posted to my reads on this blog. This trip to PA I found it still stored under the bed, in our motor home, so I retrieved it and include it here. Well I found this interesting about Hillary Clinton and yet I did not learn anything really new about her. This was something I thought I'd read during the campaigns. Just in case she made it and we know now she did not. A comical passage is the young Hillary about 11years old who punches a boy in the nose and flattens him. Does this mean I have a wild streak? I don't know I just laughed. The author uses that as an early example of how she will not take anything from anyone. This book includes many stories of her as a real bully, cheat and manipulator. Later with Bill's philanderings I wonder if she ever tried to bloody his nose? This book as many others shows that Hillary is usually right in the midst calling the shots and not an innocent blind sided person. The book also speaks repeatedly of her cursing and very less than lady like language. Again not a surprise to anyone who has paid any attention to the Clintons. It is a mystery to me that the Obama camp bested her and Bill last election. This is an interesting take on Hillary. Not a book I'll keep on my shelf even though it was a first edition.

Latest photo of my dad

I love this photo of my dad with the P-38 fighter. Those are the planes that he really wanted to fly but ended up as a B-24 pilot as they needed those in WWII and the Army Air Corp did not offer planes or career of choice. Things were different. My cousin, Carol, retrieved this and some others of nose art from her mother's home in PA and sent them to me so it was like a wonderful Christmas present. I looked through his pilot logs and can surmise that this was taken at Dorr Field, FL, approximately July 1943. You know the story of my dad, flight disappeared en route from Bahamas to Charleston SC, June 20, 1944 about five months before I would enter this planet.

With the recent commemorations about D-Day and the celebrations of 65 years, I think about my dad. Here he was a young pilot and knew from a briefing that soon he and his combat crew 193 would depart Charleston, SC for England. The Air support was needed. I wonder how much they were briefed stateside about the D-Day operations. He knew for sure that something big was up and this is when he began to feel the fear.

Recently on our AWON website I was struck by something a friend shared which her father had written to his parents. How similar to what my dad told his "baby brother." How different it was in WWII with sincere faith, devoutness to country and God and patriotism. I shared with Brenda that my father said nearly the same thing in a post card I have which he'd not mailed to his mother shortly after he had enlisted against her wishes. In 1942 my father wrote to his mother, "Mom, it will all be God's will and we trust for the best no matter what." His faith was that strong.

I have clung onto similar thoughts through out my life at many times when things looked the most dismal. I still hold onto these words today remembering that I had a father with very deep faith. I would not want to disappoint his spirit by losing mine, no matter what!

Resilience

It's been a grey dreary day with a nice drizzling, soaking rain. what made the day warmer was a nice afternoon visit by Jerry's cousin, Don and wife Eileen, from Iowa. They called last week and said they would be in town for a surprise birthday party for a long time friend of Don's. We said, come on over and good to see you. I made some fresh cookies and blueberry muffins and we spent the afternoon sipping wine and just yakking. We enjoyed the visit today and had Jerry's mother here as well. Though she mostly sat there and said little. That's a good thing because what she has to say makes little sense and or is usually out of focus with what's being discussed--at 92 she doesn't hear, has not worn her hearing aids for years and lives in her own little world.

Later after they all left we took Jerry's other cousin and friend out for dinner at a local supper club in the drizzly rain. After a nice dinner and a warm car coming home, blankie in the back seat, I fell asleep until we arrived in the driveway. I felt like a child lulled to sleep.

Just yesterday I was relieved at my annual checkup when the doctor said I was in great shape, all A OK and to keep doing whatever I was doing. Slight arthritis beginning stages in my right knee which is what may bother me some nights when I get to bed. But nothing to worry about he said after taking an x-ray. I told my doctor about our May on the geriatric merry go round in PA and he was amazed too that I am showing no signs of stress. Blood pressure, cholesterol, pulse, etc all good. Never mind the extra wrinkles I have noticed creeping along my jaws! He said, "Your body seems to deal quite well with stress." That is good news and I have to wonder if that is from my 34 year career of conditioning in the state governmental bureaucracy? Somehow I cope better than I think? Or do I really blow it off? I am truly amazed because I did not work out in PA and that is my stress reliever. The most I did was walk and trot mile laps around the RV park campground in the evenings. At times, I think, glug, glug, glug, going under for the 3rd dip (aka drowning) but it seems not so. I am thankful for my resilience. By the way since Dr. Franta said, keep doing whatever you are doing, I said, "I'm going home and having two glasses of wine!" He smiled because he does encourage the use of wine and in fact is a wine producer of limited varietals himself. "Just don't over do it" he says as he leaves the exam room.

My aunt still lingers in the nursing home and at 67 pounds how long can she last? But her heart keeps beating. I hate waiitng for death to come but that is the answer in her case. And no one can predict it, the doctors say only a couple months? Really? And my 91 year old uncle Carl is on a rip at his home.

Yesterday involved a series of phone calls with him, his neighbors, his nephew who is to check in on him. Cell phone minutes are burnign up! My nephew sent a crew to mow his grass so maybe that will suspend his insistence on "I need to buy a new lawn mower." That's his latest fantasy of the past few days. And now he does not recall that I brought his checkbook home with me to MN so that I can pay his bills from here. Reportedly he got a late water bill and claims he wrote a check out for it and gave it to the personal care aide who helps bathe him to mail at the post office. The frustration rises with me as we speak, "Uncle Carl you are supposed to set the bills aside and when Lowell comes over he will mail them to me!" "Uh huh " he replies to me and then goes merrily along to say, "Why pay double postage." To which I raise my voice and reexplain that "Uncle Carl you do not remember things and this was the agreement. This is how you are going to be able to stay in your own home--With help from the nurses and aides and letting me watch your finances." "Uh huh" he replies and then in the next breath, ""I can take care of myself you know, Patty!" "Uncle Carl, you are having trouble remembering things, you are 91 and this is the agreement!" I shout in desperation. This is truly talking to the wall.

Later that evening Lowell says Carl told him he has a checkbook which he has hidden and will not tell anyone where it is. So on Monday I'll be calling the water company to learn if indeed he did write a check or if he merely mailed their bill back to them, which he has done in the past. And I thought I had this system all figured out, stop gaps in place and life would be semi normal! Well I thought too much. We have only been back home a week and the fun continues! Yet I know I have done my utmost and somehow this old guy is not going to get the best of me. I know too that the social workers are correct that I will have to wait for a crisis to get him into a personal care home which he does not want. I only hope that crisis is not too terrible. Lowell says, "You know Uncle Carl always has been very stubborn and hard headed." Oh yes, I know. The entire family--a bunch of hard headed Polacks! But I'm one too and surely I have the edge at being younger and well, more informed. We will see.

I reflect back to what my friend said in Pa, "Choose your battles with him." And Jerry says, "You can only do so much." Ahh those two glasses of wine!

Today I got a great gift in the mail of postcards from and to my father and some air plane photos my cousin had found at her mother's home. all remnants from 1942 and beyond. What treasures to brighten the dreary day. At least I had positive experiences in PA too. I must refocus and look for the best--keeping my eyes toward the sunshine. This too shall pass! (won't it?)

Home again home again jiggedy jig

We arrived home yesterday about 5:00PM after a successful two day drive. Jerry was feeling exceptionally brave and steered the RV home towing the truck through the Chicago loop. We always avoid that part of the country and prefer to go another 60 miles or so out of our way. But after 5 years he decided to give it a try. Likely it will be many more years before we even consider that loop again. Even if it did give me a view of the Chicago Polish Museum, reportedly something that entices those of us of that special ethnicity. The loop cost us about $48 in tolls. I guess we now own a piece of Chicago. At one toll booth, the toll taker-man asked, "Are you towing the truck?" To which Jerry said, "No it's pushing me!" The tollman laughed and commented that was a good one but that he had no discounts for wise guys. I guess not many jokes are shared along the Chicago loop toll way!

We saw many of those tiny cars of the future--the Obsama prototypes, you know the kind that people wear! I think anyone who drives one of those sewing machine sized excuses for a vehicle in heavy traffic is either very brave or nuts!

The pilot did better than the navigator through the loop. She would have begun to chew her fingernails, something she's never done in her life, but she assuaged herself by fondling her blackberry brick breaker game!

But here we are in beautiful homeland. And the roses have not yet bloomed nor have the peonies. Saved their blooms for me to see and I so appreciate that. Tomorrow will bring a ton of mail which has been held at the post office.

I am so happy to be back home again! Jerry is too and looking forward to riding his mower around the grass. Kentucky fried chicken never tasted as good as it did last night. Jerry's cousin and friend called and offered to get it and bring to the house. That was the best idea we'd heard all day! We four huddled around our tiny kitchen table and finished off the bucket. Last night I slept wonderfully in our own bed. And this evening after dinner I pedaled around on my bike. Tomorrow will see this body back at Curves. I missed my work out routine and am sure my body will protest a bit as it reacquaints itself with fitness.


There are the daily phone calls I will make to my Uncle. By the way, I figured it out--he is 91 not 90. When anyone asks him he claims to be in his 80's but readily gives his correct birthday--March 21, 1918! To which I said one day, "Well Uncle Carl you are 91! Not 90!" He replied, "well you're the one who kept saying I'm 90 I knew I wasn't 90." He still has not said he's 91 but he knows he's not 90. Well he is quite the character when he has his clarity and wits about him.

I pray that my aunt will pass along peacefully as she would prefer. To say she is not in good health is an understatement. She's 87, in a SNF, stage 4 lung cancer, metastasized from colon cancer five years ago, so they say, is somewhat alert, cannot get out of bed alone, weighs only 67 pounds, must wear diapers, and at times coughs up blood! Not the life she deserves and not the death she deserves. She's ready to be "taken home" and who knows why she still is here in this valley of tears we call life.

More later on the good things that happened while we were in PA. But I could not wait to get my fingers back flying across the keys at the computer. I suppose one could say I have keyboard addiction. Withdrawal is hell! Blackberry is my on the road pal, but thumb texting on it's teeny keys goes only so far.

Why me--Well why not You!

Here we be in PA on a geriatric, whistle stop-merry-go-round. Monday, I had both "kids" 87 year old aunt, and 90 year old uncle to the doctor. One look at her and the doctor said, "to the hospital!" OK so now I have one to deal with getting social services, meals on wheels, things fixed, etc...my 90 year old Uncle Carl. He's amenable to many things but not to being told what to do when by women, let alone a "bunch of women" as happened yesterday at this home! Me, social worker, personal care assistant--all women we three. Fortunately they did send a male physical therapist; I'd alerted them that he really really prefers male companionship! But at least we are on a roll. One day at a time. Looks like we will not make it to the Carolinas again this year. Darn and double darn!

This is my first computer access. Local library. So here goes, a funny tale from yesterday. I am ascribing to the old saying, if it will be funny some day it has to be funny today. Uncle Carl (90 yrs. old) is very amenable to most things. And frankly he had been staying over at his sisters--my aunt (87 year old.)who could barely care for herself let alone him too. What a joke that was. So he's happy to be back in his own home where he can pull weeds, putter, etc. But yesterday while talking with the physical therapist, I noticed a brown animal about big as a beaver in his front yard. "What's that?" Uncle Carl raises up quickly to see and says a wood chuck, good old PA ground hog! Then he and the PT begin to discuss ground hogs. And Carl adds, "we used to eat them" I guess so because he explained that he and my grandfather would dig them out of their burrows, haunts or whatever things the ground hogs descend into. Grandpap was a coal miner so I guess h3 knew how to un-ground the ground hogs. I had not heard this tale of eating woodchuck before so I asked in innocence, which Carl thought strange, "Well what do they taste like?" "Taste like Ground hog!" he replies looking at me like I'm a brick short of a load. (Like who really is partially demented here?) I said, "no, I mean do they taste like chicken or what?" With that he has reached the end of the afternoon tolerance for this niece whom he tells, "I already told you they taste like ground hog why are you talking about chickens?" Hearing this the PT almost falls down laughing. You had to be there to hear and see it.

Here I am doing all the legal things, etc. and here's Carl just tolerating me. The other day clearing piles and stacks of junk, papers, old boxes from tea bags he'd accumulated on his tables & shelves ,he looked at me and said, "well I just don't have time to do this." To which I replied, "well that's why we are getting help for you." A few more words exchanged and he is at the puzzled stage with me again, "when did you say you are going back to MN?" I think he's thinking he won't be so bothered once I leave town. I looked at him in the midst of a clearing and sorting frenzy and he was laughing at me. He thinks too everything is funny and cautions me,"Don't get old! It's a bitch!" To which I say, "we get older or deader."

At least he has a sense of humor. My aunt has become very down, worn out and nothing is funny. So we await further diagnosis and hope for the best.

As I said on Facebook, "Why me Lord?" And the God I know so well, has responded "Well why not you!"

Mother's Day was a bit tough for me--first year without Steve. Not that he fussed much about it, but there's a big gap left when you lose your adult son. Had a lovely email and text from granddaughter and daughter in law. That was lovely. Still, missed, that "Hi mom, just checking in." Ah well. I attended Sunday service at a small country type Methodist church here, Millerstown. A lovely service where those who lost their mothers got to stand and be remembered with white roses and those who still have a mother received red roses. Then the minister had all who had lost a child stand to have a yellow rose. I got those tears for a bit.

Well I must sign off and get back to the laundry and then we must get over to Carl's. By the way we had the best pizza last night--from Capris (sp?) here in Natrona Hts. Yummy real Italian. No speeka much Inglish there. The best.

The Shack

"The Shack" by Wm. Paul Young has earned a place on my keeper book shelf. I avoided this book as it climbed the best seller charts because I thought it was just another mystery or a new age read and I have plenty of good mysteries still accumulating dust on my pending reading shelves. See it's gone beyond one shelf of to reads..that's the trouble with being a bookworm! Never a sale to pass up and always something good to pick up! But one day this past winter I relented in Barnes & Noble and picked up The Shack. I am so glad I did.

My friend Sandy,(in CA) told me that her church group were all raving about The Shack. She has a good mixture of friends there who read, think and discuss. So my curiosity got to me. I read this book in about a week and the reason it took so long was that I kept going back and rereading passages. No, it's not a retention or attention span issue, it's wanting to read that again and again. It is only 252 pages and I would have devoured it in a couple evenings but savoring the writing seemed more appropriate. It is that nicely written and I wanted to absorb some of these passages. My copy is now extremely highlighted and marked up. That's my bad habit with books, you know, and the reason I can't borrow from our wonderful little library.

The story line isn't all that appealing---a young girl, Missy, is abducted and killed while out camping with her dad and siblings. The family experiences tremendous grief over this. The writing outdoes the plot of The Shack. Narrated as through the father, Mackkenzie Allen Phillips, or Mack this is a personal expression of grief and journey and how to or not move on. I don't want to give away the story in entirety so as not to spoil it for those of you who might now pick up the book. This is a book I would give as a gift to people. It's one I heartily recommend to anyone who can open mindedly read these concepts.

Here, I'll share a couple passages--
pg. 136..."Rumors of glory are often hidden inside what many consider myths and tales..." spoken by Sarayu, the Holy Spirit presence.

pgs 136-137.. Sarayu and Mack discuss what is good and what is bad..."When something happens to you, how do you determine whether it is good or evil?"...""I'm not sure I have any logical ground for deciding what is actually good or evil, except how something or someone affects me." .."Then it is you who determines good and evil. You become the judge....that which you determine to be good will change over time and circumstances. And then, beyond that there are billions of you, each determining what is good and evil..."

pg. 147....Here Jesus and Mack are discussing love and free will--you know that thing given to us humans that has been messing with us since the Garden of Eden. "Have you noticed that even though you call me Lord and King that I have never acted in that capacity with you?....To force my will on you...is exactly what love does not do. Genuine relationships are marked by submission even when you choices are not helpful or healthy....Submission is not about authority and it is not obedience. It is all about relationships of love and respect."

Pg 149... By choosing to declare what's good and evil you seek to determine your own destiny. It was this turning that has caused so much pain."

pg. 156..."If a rainbow makes a sound, or a flower as it grows, that was the sound of her laughter. It was a shower of light,,,," Mack's description of the Holy Spirit.

pg. 230..."Tears can be healing waters and a stream of joy." spoken to Mack by the Lord.

Mack sets off alone on a journey back to the scene of the crime while his wife and the other children are off to visit relatives. What happens to Mack on this journey is the gist of this spiritual book. He does encounter the Lord and Jesus and the Holy Spirit. Only perhaps not as most people could imagine. Me, though, I can imagine anything...once while teaching Sunday school a little girl asked, "What if God looks like a big mouse?" I laughed and said, "well what if and why not.?" The kids were about 9 years old in that class and there was a lively "what if God looks like a....", thoughts ran the gamut from mouse to Super Dog, to wild bear, to chicken! I've always wondered what does God really resemble; are we in for a surprise the other side? We read about the experience of light, love, warmth. We Christians have our Bible photos and thoughts but is Spirit really like that? Is Jesus really as we picture--it was in another part of the world where the folks are much darker complected. They were nomads.

I understand why there may be some religious (church)controversy/objection about The Shack . It is not a book that promotes churches or religion per se, but it does instill spirituality and the belief in our Christian trinity, but maybe not just as the only path.

When Mack questions how evil can happen to an Innocent little girl,(I have wondered about this all my life and where's God then?) the dialogue bears reading and rereading. pg 175 & on."she was never alone. We never left her, not for one instant....Did she know you were there?...Not at first the fear was overwhelming and she was in shock. It took hours..."

My very favorite passage if I had to choose just one in The Shack is about forgiveness. We hear forgiveness preached and discussed all the time. I have had many experiences in my lifetime that have caused me to ponder it intensely. I've heard forgive and forget and I believe they are two different things--not joined together. I have read books about forgiveness and I know it frees the one who forgives. I have never felt that forgiveness means we go right back to square 1 and reestablish a relationship with the person we've forgiven. The person may be long gone from our lives. The person may be dead and we may be grateful for that. Sometimes forgiveness is just that we move on in our own minds. But we remember and we take the advice, "when people show you who they are, believe them the first time." My friend, Sandy thinks that as long as there is anger there cannot be forgiveness, and I disagree with that. Forgiveness is summarized, Pages 226-230 in a discussion between Mack and God ...."Forgiveness is Not about forgetting...It is about letting go of another person's throat......Forgiveness does not establish relationship....Unless people speak the truth about what they have done and change their minds and behavior, a relationship of trust is not possible......When you forgive someone you release him from judgment, but without true change, no real relationship can be established...So forgiveness does not require me to pretend what he did never happened? ****Forgiveness in no way requires that you trust the one you forgive...forgiveness does not excuse anything***..." The discussion is that forgiveness requires repentance from the other side and a change in the behavior, not acceptance of the same bad stuff. Also the discussion covers anger as a very approroiate response to wrong, to evil, to what was done. Anger is appropriate! Hallelujiah! What a concept! In the Bible, even Jesus became angry. One can forgive without a relationship being reestablished with the offender to move on, to release themselves. We learn here that a bridge of reconciliation may lead to fully restored trust, but only when the other changes!

At the end of the book the writer asks that we share this book, published by windblown media. I think it might have been on a shoestring budget and has astounded the author with overwhelming success. It asks that we write review and I thought, they read my mind, That's what I've started to do on this blog, both to remind me and to let you know what's on the reading nightstand now. They have a website which I've not yet checked out, but share here with you, it is The Missy Project, www.theshackbook.com

My new pink look & furniture moving limitations

Just messing with this blog today and decided to trade my dots for spring pink....Not sure how long I'll stick with this pink, but here is my new look. Let me know what you think, I know you will.

This is similar to moving around furniture--something I like to do and something which is now nearly impossible. Our TVs dominate in the downstairs den/theater/bar room and in the upstairs living room because of the cable hook ups, etc.

At least in Newcastle, Ca I could change the living room at times, usually Christmas was my big opportunity. We never had the humongous big screen TV there, but slowly with the satellite dish attachments I found myself prohibited from moving the TV. Still I could rearrange couch and chairs. Neither Jerry nor Steve ever appreciated my efforts at moving furniture. They would each take off for parts unknown to avoid my redecorating. They said they could tell when they would see me standing looking at furniture that I was about to rearrange. Our Siamese cat particularly hated it when I moved things around and would race around the house calling out in a screech, as though alerting I don't know whom "Watch out! Hear ye all!She's at it again!" She would cross her blue eyes and scowl at me for days after I'd rearranged anything.

I used to be able to shove any piece of furniture around a big room. Here, I have met my limitations with some of our humongous furniture that will not move, no way no how. Our dining room set for one is not to be rearranged. Our bedroom is possible but Jerry has repeatedly told me not to even think of it and since I cannot manage that bed and dresser alone, it's off limits. The guest bedroom doesn't appeal to my need to rearrange. Though there too, the queen size bed would be a challenge. Our downstairs TV console takes up an entire wall, accommodates the biggest screen TV, was custom built by Jerry and is going no where. (short shot of this scene above)The huge leather couch downstairs is a bear to move but I have shifted it to an angle at times. The upstairs living room (photo of floral sofa & side chair) decor could be adjusted but there is the trouble of the cable TV. Dang, I never wanted a TV in that room anyway and now it dictates and limits my decorating schemes. I had pictured a formal room where there would only be pleasantries of conversation--I live in a fantasy world sometimes. The reality is we have TVs all over the house; and for someone who hardly ever watched it I find things to turn on in retirement. Well with the hundreds of channels on cable, there's bound to be something.

In the downstairs library/study/computer room I'm limited by the big oak solid heavy computer desk that fit just so into a nook. So it goes nowhere and then again there's the DLS hook up, etc, also through our TV/cable company.

A couple years ago after much looking we bought an immense coffee table with leather top and four mini stools that slide underneath the table for downstairs. Oh it was just the ticket. People could sit on those stools, best of all the stools have room for storing things in them as the lids/seats lift off. I always have things to put in places and those, well afghans, throws, things to wrap oneself up in while vegging out in front of the TV. Well, it was just the perfect table for our big sofa. But somehow during the remodel we shifted that coffee table into the library and there it stays.(see it in action near some of the book cases in the photo)I have made great use of it as my design/cutting table to cut out and lay out sewing projects or other crafty efforts. Three of the mini stools are in the other room with the sofa so folks can put their feet up or use them as end tables, or whatever. Our two leather recliners downstairs are our favorite chairs to retreat to at days end. Mostly both are positioned where we best like them; and since mostly it's us two here we should be where we want to be for seating.

Which brings up another thing--Jerry's corner(photo where the Olympia beer mirror hangs). He has his dedicated corner here just like he did in CA. From that corner nothing is to be touched, not ever, never. Like I said, I know my limitations. But before our company arrived this month I mentioned that if I could move his chair out of his corner we could rearrange the couch, etc. He would not even discuss this intelligently or otherwise. He just gave me that look. End of no discussion. He claims that in 5,000 sq. ft. he only wants one corner. That's not exactly true--he has his own work out room too! Of course it is the only unfinished room in our basement, but what the heck! And he does have that huge house down the hill where the motor home lives and the attached garage--what more does he want!

Now we did rearrange the downstairs bedroom when grand daughter was coming to visit and the upstairs bedrooms were taken by other family. That involved moving the daybed and moving my nordic trac out of that room and tidying up from my projects in progress which can usually happily hide there in any state of disarray, undisturbed until I get the urge or time to work further on them. You can see the floral daybed photo of this room.


Well suffice it that I can't do much furniture rearranging so my creative streak has to come out other ways--like on this blog...that's why we are now in the pink! But looking at the way these photos played on on my blog, I need to do some rearranging...but not right now. Bye.

Reading Update

Continuing with my commitment to include my books read here for my own later use and your entertainment---

"Partners in Power The Clintons and Their America" by Roger Morris. I picked this up at a library book sale somewhere on our travels last year and just got around to it. Published in 1996 I don't know how I overlooked this for so many years. A great read! Just the kind of reading I enjoy--politics, history and true life stories. Lots of information, mostly known now about Bill & Hillary Clinton and their rise to power from early times in Arkansas. Talk about some shenanigans! They pulled it all off! Bill's philanderings are almost described as acceptable and surely expected because of the very broken family life he had. Although Bill Clinton avoids alcoholic beverages fearing alcoholism as his father and step father suffered, there is speculation if his indulgence with cocaine. Interesting that Bill Clinton's rise was absolutely with the backing and support of Hillary. The book has chapters on each of their lives and families preceding their move to higher education. I laughed out loud at Hillary's punching a neighbor boy, bloodying his nose and winning the fight growing up. She is a ruthless woman! Bill Clinton's Rhodes scholarship was a breezy sleaze and reading this removed my respect for the mystique of a Rhodes scholar. Bill's easy ability to lie is well documented and why we can remember him as Slick Willy. Hillary's snobbish sense of entitlement is well known now too but reading Morris' description of her career as an attorney, the entwinement with the McDougals, her striking it rich on marginal investment and her makeovers is intriguing. This book covers in depth, their rise to power, which again makes me contemplate how in the world do we elect people in this country? It also has a fascinating history of political changes, turmoil and background including the growth and overtaking of Congress and DC by lobbyists. I have not read any other of Roger Morris work, but would in a minute. I don't believe he has written after this book at least I've not found later works on Google. This is a keeper in my library, political and history.

The Year of Magical Thinking by Joan Didion. I read this book in two nights. Written about her journey in life processing grief the year following the death of her husband and the near death of her daughter, Joan has written with translucent honesty. I could so relate to may of her feelings. It was a timely read for me. It was a book I'd wondered about before and likely dismissed as too morose or too down, but with Steve's death I wanted to read this. "People who have recently lost someone have a certain look, recognizable maybe only to those who have seen that look on their own faces.......These people who have lost someone look naked because they think themselves invisible.. " That sure struck with me. Lots of truth in here and not answers but just one remarkable story of moving through grief and moving on in life. "Time is the school in which we learn." attributed to Delmore Schwartz leads into the discussion of cognitive deficits which can be associated with grief as well as stress. Fascinating. "I know why we try to keep the dead alive. We keep them alive in order to keep them with us." Yes, I know that, but further she writes, "..we must relinquish the dead, let them go, keep them dead....Knowing this does not make it any easier."

I am now reading "The Shack" and will tell about it when I'm done which should be very soon. I would almost give up working outside to finishing this book about a man's journey to/with/near/around God and his coping with his Great Sadness after his daughter is abducted. I did not know this was such a heart rending religious book when I picked it up. More to come on it--it will be a keeper.

Our tea parties

Our Tea Parties
Here in our city of La Crescent, population of 5,000 we had two tea parties. The first on Monday, April 13 inside at the Community Center where about 60 people attended. We collected canned foods for our local food panry at this event to keep with the MN tradition of food for all!

I described this first one in my blog/post to the Tom Sullivan Show where I am an avid part of his Listener's Club. We followed Tom in CA and really missed him in MN. Used to catch him on the computer live stream now and then. But over a year ago while in OK, we picked him up on Fox Talk on the satellite radio. That happened to be his first day on the air; he's moved to New York and hosts on Fox Talk daily from 2:00--5:00PM, our central standard time. That day, I called and was his last caller of the day. We enjoy satellite radio in the motor home and in my GMC Envoy. But with the ability to hear Tom daily, Jerry bought a home adapter to keep up with Tom.

So back to the tea parties....in part I posted to Tom who had posed the question, "What is happening to our country?" "...We've been talking about this very subject . I grew up without a father who was killed in WWII months before my birth; I don't think his life was given to have our liberties taken away by this regime. My hubby was 10 years in the Air force--he says "I did not serve my country to see it come to this!" We had a pre- -Tea Party here in la Crescent, MN organized by a friend who's a candidate for State Senate seat next year...About 60 attended for the 2 hours, not bad for a hamlet of 5,000. We served Free Tea. And here's the brilliance--Gave out free booklets of the Constitution--people scooped those up like candy. We advised they begin to read the Constitution and see just how bad things are. I talked to one man whom I'd met earlier in the year at a caucus--he said he could no longer just sit back. Now he knows he must get involved. I told him, "see what happens when we don't pay attention..."He agreed but said he never expected this." Thought he was insulated here in the Midwest.

By the way, when do you think the last time was most folks read the Constitution?"

To my delight Tom picked up my writings and read it all on the air just as soon as I finished posting, cool! So we had national coverage of our first La Crescent tea party! Tom endorsed the idea of giving out copies of the Constitution--most people don't know how simple and straightforward it is. Read up all!

Yesterday April 15 there was another at the Veterans park. This was fitting because yesterday Homeland Security made news by targeting our veterans returning from foreign lands of being potential right wing extremists and to be watched like terrorists. Disgusting beyond belief!

Mary & Frank Ludwig (He's a professor at Viterbo college in La Crosse) made up lots of games for the kids and carried a colonial, Revolutionary War theme. Mary had a Joe the Plumber game with a plunger and toilet ball--that was quite popular. Joe the Plumber is a hero here. Mary & some of her kids read many patriotic quotes; they did the same reading Monday night at our indoor tea party. I have asked her to present it at a Legion meeting and she has agreed. Their children are getting a real sense of history. It was interesting to watch the local kids get interested in the historic theme. Yesterday we had many young families on a gorgeous spring day in the park, on their way home from work. When the local newspaper took a photo of the children with the home made kites, Jerry suggested thy title it, "Here are the tax payers of the future ...already laden with the Messiah's debt" Doubt they will use that caption though...

Frank, who is seated in the one photo told everyone yesterday that we are all now subversives for attending the tea parties! Their oldest son in the revolutionary tri-corner hat worked the younger boys through drills using sticks as rifles....perhaps preparing them for the world ahead.

Walter Williams paragraph and a Saharan quote

I don't usually cut and paste these things, but today on our way to our local Tea (Taxed Enough Already) Party I checked my emails. This came through on the Patriot Post to which I subscribe. Worth reading.

"Most of our nation's great problems, including our economic problems, have as their root decaying moral values. Whether we have the stomach to own up to it or not, we have become an immoral people left with little more than the pretense of morality. ... Do you believe that it is moral and just for one person to be forcibly used to serve the purposes of another? And, if that person does not peaceably submit to being so used, do you believe that there should be the initiation of some kind of force against him? Neither question is complex and can be answered by either a yes or no. For me the answer is no to both questions but I bet that your average college professor, politician or minister would not give a simple yes or no response. They would be evasive and probably say that it all depends. ...[That] is because they are sly enough to know that either answer would be troublesome for their agenda. A yes answer would put them firmly in the position of supporting some of mankind's most horrible injustices such as slavery. After all, what is slavery but the forcible use of one person to serve the purposes of another? A no answer would put them on the spot as well because that would mean they would have to come out against taking the earnings of one American to give to another in the forms of farm and business handouts, Medicare, Medicaid, food stamps and thousands of similar programs that account for more than two-thirds of the federal budget. There is neither moral justification nor constitutional authority for what amounts to legalized theft. This is not an argument against paying taxes. We all have a moral obligation to pay our share of the constitutionally mandated and enumerated functions of the federal government. ...[But] now that the U.S. Congress has established the principle that one American has a right to live at the expense of another American, it no longer pays to be moral." --George Mason University economics professor Walter E. Williams

And to close it,,,,,here is exactly the way I think of government...whatever it gets it will screw up....."If you put the federal government in charge of the Sahara Desert, in five years there'd be a shortage of sand." --Nobel prize-winning economist Milton Friedman (1912-2006)