Albert Einstein said “Two things are infinite: the universe and human stupidity; and I’m not sure about the universe.” I’ve been living that comment again lately and yesterday in particular.
Yesterday I received a letter from the PA state police forwarded to me from my Uncle Carl’s address. In July while in PA, with the help of his doctor, I took Uncle Carl to Logan House, an assisted living center in Lower Burrell. It is a lovely place where he has his own apartment; it is very expensive but his funds can pay for it. Uncle Carl is my last living relative on my mom’s side, 91 (soon to be 92). He has dementia, not Alzheimer’s but definitely dementia, such that it was no longer safe for him to remain in his own home despite care givers. So he has adjusted and doing well there, his sense of humor remains and he is content and happy there. And I have peace of mind knowing all is well with him.
But back to stupidity. Uncle Carl had a minor traffic accident in April which I learned about when we were in PA in May. No one was injured but he should not have been driving. Somehow he got into his head with my constant chatter, that he should relinquish his driver’s license and sell his car. He did that willingly and for that I was grateful! Meantime, his doctor sent the forms with the dementia diagnosis to the PA Department of Transportation, known as PennDot. So PennDOT has notification from his own doctor along with the incident accident report and the emergency room physician’s diagnosis about the dementia.
Having had a career in state government I understand non-thinking employees. I absolutelydrilled into my staff that if they were there to provide customer service; oublic service is supposed to be that. I understand how brains are checked at the door in the morning and possibly after so many years in bureaucracy the people no longer pick up their brains when they leave for home. Suffice that bureaucracies with lifelong employees who know no better are frustrating entities on any given day. Probably everyone has encountered frustration dealing with their own state Department of Motor Vehicles (DMV) as it was known in CA. CA DMV was distinguished as being the worst government bureaucracy in the state. That distinction was duly earned because most folks encountered nothing but frustration dealing with them. I nominate PennDot as achieving stupidity beyond what DMV could have expected.
I’ve corresponded by certified mail, with PennDot at least four times regarding Uncle Carl’s driver’s license. I have provided copies of my Power of Attorney and signed, certified and sworn that I cannot find his “current” driver’s license to physically return it to them. I gave up trying to get through to them on the phone because neither anyone in their offices nor their Medical Unit answer the phone. Granted those employees went without pay during the PA budget crisis this past summer. I suppose if I had to work without pay I would be grumpy, but I would do my job and certainly answering the phone is a basic service of government agencies. Perhaps someday PA voters will not elect people like Ed Rendell as governor and things might improve. But I digress; PA is a strong Democrat state with unions holding and pulling major political ropes (not strings) and with extreme taxation policies. One last harangue on PA which taxes even what the feds exempt; it is one of only 11 states with heinous inheritance taxes. Wealthy PA elderly move to Florida for more reasons than the climate.
So yesterday the mail brings me a letter from the PA State Police in Apollo demanding that Uncle Carl surrender his driver’s license in person so that his “suspension” can begin! If he does not appear and do so, the fines begin at $100 and threaten incarceration and who knows what else! Stupidity reigns!
Fortunately there was a phone number and a state trooper had signed the letter personally. Even better he answered the phone. I explained the situation and Uncle Carl’s dementia and that I have been unable to find his driver’s license in his home despite many searches. This trooper is completely sympathetic and understands. He tells me that PennDot sends these on automatically. He goes on to say that the explanation from families is usually similar to mine, they cannot find the license and they are desperate. He understands that an Alzheimer’s or dementia medical diagnosis should be enough to convince PennDot that the person whom they are threatening cannot respond. He even shares that he has had to make house calls to homes of these elderly when there has been no response to demand their license and they nearly have a heart attack on the spot. He does not enjoy that at all. How could he; he is a state officer reduced to doing bureaucratic tasks that at best are unnecessary and at worst stupid. So he tells me to stop by the next time I am in PA, or call him and he will make arrangements to meet me so I can sign the affidavit yet again with my power of attorney stipulating that Carl will not ever be driving again and the license cannot be found. He is a very nice individual and then as we talk he says even better he will mail me the affidavit; as he says, “Why would you go through the trouble to fabricate something like this? You have enough to do managing for your Uncle long distance. PA does not have to complicate life any more for you.” I want to reach through the phone and hug him for having the rarest of all qualities among bureaucrats—common sense! Hooray! We laugh and ponder what could happen if he is told to go to the assisted living center to confiscate Carl’s license and the entire population of 34 residents arise in agitation. He assures me he will personally enter this into the system and be done with it. Now a state trooper has become a clerk for the PennDot bureaucrats who cannot read, refuse to read and refuse to even answer their phone. I will not include his name, to protect his privacy, but be assured he has a special place of gratitude in my prayers. If there was ever a system that needs quality improvement and customer service training it is PennDot. But I am retired and do not do such things anymore; I’ll not be offering my services to them!
After the mail, I go to the Legion to donate blood at the mobile Red Cross blood drive. I donate regularly because it is something I can do and blood is needed. But I do not know that Stupidity eagerly awaits me as soon as I arrive! Stupidity knows no geographic boundaries. You can run but you can’t hide from it!
Syd, an elderly lady has run the bloodmobile for 35 years for the Legion; she retired from it last year saying it was time for her to give it up. I have been donating blood probably for as many years, beginning first in CA during my career in CA state government where the blood mobiles came to the offices. Another local woman, not known for sense, stepped up to take over Syd’s coordinator job. Syd’s system worked and so one would expect that Shelly could follow that model and all would be well. Wrong! Shelly is not the sharpest knife in the drawer; she’s more like a butter knife among the meat cleavers.
As I enter I see only one solitary old lady at the reception desk who cannot handle the demand of one person at a time. Syd had two or three there to keep each other company and facilitate the sign ins. This does not bother me because I know the routine, sign in, take the same packet of materials, sit down, read (I speed reed) the information, return the packet, get a number and proceed to the holding area until the Red Cross worker comes to escort you for another series of questions and tests. I do my self service check in, get through the screening and donate blood. There is a seating area where donors had always been served refreshments. As I am donating I notice few people sitting there, but this is early in the day not the busiest time of the day when working folks are on their way home. But I see the few donors go to the tables and leave quickly; this appears strange because I know it is important for donors to replenish their fluids before leaving. I also notice two young girls, teens or twenties somethings, who are sitting at the refreshment tables, yakking and doing nothing that I can observe. Shelly, the new coordinator who is a large gal is across from me donating blood as well. Then I notice Syd, our retiree, fluttering and throwing her arms in the air.
When I get to the refreshment tables I see a sloppy mess, and look for a clean place to sit and drink and eat. In the past here was always a crew of the older ladies serving, asking how many gallons you donated, cleaning tables, and generally working at making donors comfortable. Syd flutters over apologizing, “we only have orange juice or cranberry-grape today...” What, no cokes, no plain cranberry, no coffee, no bottled water? She serves me a small glass of water in a Styrofoam cup obviously meant for coffee. The table which usually has fresh popcorn from the Legion bar, plates of cookies, cheeses and crackers, bags of cookies, raisins, candy, and other varied treats looks sparse. There is an empty plate at the far end where two men are sittin. Shelly appears and Syd flutters to her asking if she can please put out more cheese to which Shelly replies, “well I can’t put it all out now…” I ask Shelly where the beverages are and she responds that she has two juices. I tell her I do not drink those, thinking to myself that perhaps the orange juice would be fine with a good shot of vodka. I mention that at least before we had cokes and coffee to which Shelly walks away and Syd flutters nervously and apologetically. Two men at the far end of the table are sitting drinking their water. As soon as they get up Syd brings the cheese platter to me. She quietly remarks that she guesses she will stand and move the plate back and forth, apologizes again quietly so as not to call attention. I question what happened to the fleet of women who used to provide hospitality to donors and Syd shrugs her shoulders and flutters away. Shelly is nowhere to be found. I suspect she is back in the kitchen stuffing her face.
This is more than I can tolerate, so I gather my coat and say, “forget it, I will go out to the bar and get something to drink!” On my way out the two young girls who are doing nothing ask me if I want a card and waive a business card in my face. When I ask, “What for?” One says to remind me of the next donation date. I smile and tell her directly that I will not be donating here again. I realize that these two are Shelly’s workers, likely a daughter and friend; they of course cannot be bothered with hospitality so the dirty tables and lack of attention to donors is what we get while they sit yak and offer cards! The Red Cross always mails out postcards and there is publicity in the newspapers. Duplicate useless effort. The end of hospitality which has been replaced with stupidity!
Through the door in the bar I get a Coke from Patty, my friend and bartender. I tell her I have never seen such a lack of concern for donors in my 35 years of donating; she mentions that Shelly has taken it over. I acknowledge that stupidity has now replaced hospitality. There is a man sitting at the bar with a beer and a big meal; he also was a donor who left disgusted and said he will not donate there again. I commiserate with him and tell him that there are blood drives at the fire departments nearby and across the river at the Red Cross blood center in La Crosse. Meantime I have experienced yet again what happens when someone takes over knowing not what they do. This is the danger of volunteers. A person who has never run anything and could barely function without a monitor assumes control. One would have thought continuation of the system that worked would be the best strategy but stupidity knows not beyond itself.
I created this blog to record our RV trips and ;morphed into life in our retirement lane and telling my tales of life. Now my tales of life are on widowhood, my new and probably my last phase of l I have migrated to Facebook where I communicate daily, instantly with family/friends all over. I write here sometimes. COPYWRIGHT NOTICE: All photos, stories, writings on this blog are the property of myself, Patricia Morrison and may not be used, copied, without my permission most often freely given.
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Monday, January 11, 2010
Pink of the winter sky
Yesterday, early evening while stirring the pot of home made "refrigerator soup" simmering on the stove, the sky outside our kitchen window caught my eye. There was so much pink. I could not miss that, so I donned boots & jacket, camera and captured some of it. 
I have not ever seen this coloration in the winter sky here in MN. Sky blue pink! It was beautiful and outside it was quiet, hushed, briskly cold, but so clear. It cleared my head and vision.
Granddaughter was snugged in downstairs watching football with Grandpa Jerry. I am too fidgety to sit through a play off game when I don't have a favorite team playing. Janine, granddaughter, arrived Wednesday from CA with a head cold. I fear it is a virus from her description that it left and returned. So we've been doctoring with Vicks and Nyquil. It is sounding better but still not gone; I would have had a medical visit about this with all the concern of H1N1, etc. and especially before flying, but then that's me. So this has stifled her visit somewhat. Of course it is winter in MN and we don't have much activity; she did come to see the snow and experience winter. Well here it is. I am disappointed that she's not able to muster more energy, but hope she sheds this before her return flight Friday.
Have been quandrizing (my word) with this visit with Janine for several reasons which have manifested themselves clearly this trip. Since her last trip here in April, she seems regressed into more dependency, less reaching out or experiencing as a 19 year old could be doing, sticking with her chosen only boyfriend, and tightening the ties to Mom & Dad's apron strings. I wonder how long this can last? Will she ever become her own person? There is still time enough. Her responses to questions at times evoke, "my mom says...." That's better than "John says...." I suppose, but I wish this girl woud grow some independent gumption and begin to have her very own opinions, views, circles, likes, friends, you name it. Isn't that one purpose of education, to create a drive for independence and the foundation to chose wisely? Maybe that's passe now too! It's one thing to raise and shelter but too much and it cripples. I hope she does not trade parental control for John's control. I cannot understand any of this.
But there is always hope and the pink sky seemed to be God's benevolence shining, "G'wan outside, breathe the fresh air, enjoy it and let it go!" And that wonderful old verse from Corinthians, "be not dismayed, by reason of this great multitude, for the battle is not your's but the Lord's" That verse came clearly to me outside in 18 degrees appreciating the pink sky. I remembered when I received that verse at a Christmas Eve candlelight service in Fair Oaks, almost 40 years ago. I have kept it to bolster me at times and can hold fast to it. Faith is a good thing that allows us to let go and trust.
Prone as I am to signs and intuition and guidance, I interpret this glorious pink sky to mean, let it be and let ME. That's pretty good advice for someone who has no control over this situation. Besides the last thing I want is control! No way! All we can continue to do is provide the seeds, exposure and hope. Hope that there is another pink sky somewhere. Pink sky at night, sailor's delight; pink sky at morning sailor take warning....
I have not ever seen this coloration in the winter sky here in MN. Sky blue pink! It was beautiful and outside it was quiet, hushed, briskly cold, but so clear. It cleared my head and vision.
Granddaughter was snugged in downstairs watching football with Grandpa Jerry. I am too fidgety to sit through a play off game when I don't have a favorite team playing. Janine, granddaughter, arrived Wednesday from CA with a head cold. I fear it is a virus from her description that it left and returned. So we've been doctoring with Vicks and Nyquil. It is sounding better but still not gone; I would have had a medical visit about this with all the concern of H1N1, etc. and especially before flying, but then that's me. So this has stifled her visit somewhat. Of course it is winter in MN and we don't have much activity; she did come to see the snow and experience winter. Well here it is. I am disappointed that she's not able to muster more energy, but hope she sheds this before her return flight Friday.
Have been quandrizing (my word) with this visit with Janine for several reasons which have manifested themselves clearly this trip. Since her last trip here in April, she seems regressed into more dependency, less reaching out or experiencing as a 19 year old could be doing, sticking with her chosen only boyfriend, and tightening the ties to Mom & Dad's apron strings. I wonder how long this can last? Will she ever become her own person? There is still time enough. Her responses to questions at times evoke, "my mom says...." That's better than "John says...." I suppose, but I wish this girl woud grow some independent gumption and begin to have her very own opinions, views, circles, likes, friends, you name it. Isn't that one purpose of education, to create a drive for independence and the foundation to chose wisely? Maybe that's passe now too! It's one thing to raise and shelter but too much and it cripples. I hope she does not trade parental control for John's control. I cannot understand any of this.
But there is always hope and the pink sky seemed to be God's benevolence shining, "G'wan outside, breathe the fresh air, enjoy it and let it go!" And that wonderful old verse from Corinthians, "be not dismayed, by reason of this great multitude, for the battle is not your's but the Lord's" That verse came clearly to me outside in 18 degrees appreciating the pink sky. I remembered when I received that verse at a Christmas Eve candlelight service in Fair Oaks, almost 40 years ago. I have kept it to bolster me at times and can hold fast to it. Faith is a good thing that allows us to let go and trust.
Prone as I am to signs and intuition and guidance, I interpret this glorious pink sky to mean, let it be and let ME. That's pretty good advice for someone who has no control over this situation. Besides the last thing I want is control! No way! All we can continue to do is provide the seeds, exposure and hope. Hope that there is another pink sky somewhere. Pink sky at night, sailor's delight; pink sky at morning sailor take warning....
Monday, January 4, 2010
Memory & the making of
Barbara Kinglsolver, author, (One of my faves) wrote, " It's surprising how much memory is built around things unnoticed at the time." As I reflect on my life and where I am today I affirm that quote.
I have tried a couple times today to talk to my cousin, Carol in FL. We reunited you will see elsewhere in my blog in October in PA. I have a question which she may not know and which I am sure she will not consider as important as it is to me--Joseph Bosman, a funeral card I found at my aunt's in PA. John Bosman introduced my father to my mother. I learned this from Carol. John married Julie who is still alive in PA. John also introduced my father's brother & wife, that would be Carol's father, Edddie to her mother Esther. And so my Grandma Anna said to John, "now you have married off my sons." But they were long time family friends. I have a photo of them in my father's book which I thought was Uncle Eddie and Esther, and which Chrissy (another cousin, Eddie's daughter and Carol's sister) clarified.
Well as someone whose parts of life are disconnected I am curious. And if Bosman was a family connection why did no one ever tell me? Or did they and while I was young and busy and otherwise occupied, did I ignore it? And so today at age 65 I am so curious as this maybe a part of my jigsaw puzzle to piece together for the picture.
Today I was looking through some wooden boxes and found two necklaces that Steve (with Jerry's help) bought me; one a small "MOM" with a crystal heart in gold and another with just a heart with a diamond speck. I remembered when they were given to me. MOM on Mother's Day long ago. No one to call me Mom anymore. Another on my birthday. I think on the memories of these, teary at times, and then snap myself back to the reality of today and the way life has happened.
The other day I was changing dresser scarfs in the bedroom and wanted a long one to go over the big dresser because the lace one was just too dusty. Oh I looked, but couild not find just what I wanted. I have found several linen ones and some of damask, but I want crochet or lace. And then I missed my Aunt Jinx who died in July. Because I could have called her, explained what I wanted and she would have crochetted one to fit for me. But that can no longer be. And it's not just that I want something I cannot have...it's the realization and reflection of what we lose as our family ties slip...there is no longer anyone to talk to about things.
My cousin Paula in CA calls and asks me about things; I am her only link to the family and to our grandparents. I feel very old. It is up to me to preserve our stories and our history. And so after me, who cares?
So today I consider how to talk to granddaughter when she arrives Wednesday for a week. My sense is that she is tying herself down to a losing proposition with her boyfriend. An even worse losing proposition by whizing through remedial high school in the name of college (junior college in CA) to do who knows what... That's one reason why we wanted to get her here for a visit. Other than her phone calls at least she will be away from that dufus for a week + . And I want her to know things; things that she will not hear elsewhere. Maybe we can have those conversations while I have her help me store away my angel collection till next year. Maybe when we clean out the crystal and china in the hutch, a day long task. At 19 she has not a clue about life's memories and how it will be important later in life as it is to me today. As it is when I reconnect with my friends from childhood and high school. Memory, it's what builds as we live our lives. It is elusive in our 20's, 30's even 40's ....who cares about that old stuff. But there comes a time and if we have not built the foundation to that time, we will have nothing....barren land.
I do not want to idealize my life looking backwards to memory, but to cherish those memories I have. Sometimes in our quiet times that is what is left.
Well as someone whose parts of life are disconnected I am curious. And if Bosman was a family connection why did no one ever tell me? Or did they and while I was young and busy and otherwise occupied, did I ignore it? And so today at age 65 I am so curious as this maybe a part of my jigsaw puzzle to piece together for the picture.
Today I was looking through some wooden boxes and found two necklaces that Steve (with Jerry's help) bought me; one a small "MOM" with a crystal heart in gold and another with just a heart with a diamond speck. I remembered when they were given to me. MOM on Mother's Day long ago. No one to call me Mom anymore. Another on my birthday. I think on the memories of these, teary at times, and then snap myself back to the reality of today and the way life has happened.
The other day I was changing dresser scarfs in the bedroom and wanted a long one to go over the big dresser because the lace one was just too dusty. Oh I looked, but couild not find just what I wanted. I have found several linen ones and some of damask, but I want crochet or lace. And then I missed my Aunt Jinx who died in July. Because I could have called her, explained what I wanted and she would have crochetted one to fit for me. But that can no longer be. And it's not just that I want something I cannot have...it's the realization and reflection of what we lose as our family ties slip...there is no longer anyone to talk to about things.
My cousin Paula in CA calls and asks me about things; I am her only link to the family and to our grandparents. I feel very old. It is up to me to preserve our stories and our history. And so after me, who cares?
So today I consider how to talk to granddaughter when she arrives Wednesday for a week. My sense is that she is tying herself down to a losing proposition with her boyfriend. An even worse losing proposition by whizing through remedial high school in the name of college (junior college in CA) to do who knows what... That's one reason why we wanted to get her here for a visit. Other than her phone calls at least she will be away from that dufus for a week + . And I want her to know things; things that she will not hear elsewhere. Maybe we can have those conversations while I have her help me store away my angel collection till next year. Maybe when we clean out the crystal and china in the hutch, a day long task. At 19 she has not a clue about life's memories and how it will be important later in life as it is to me today. As it is when I reconnect with my friends from childhood and high school. Memory, it's what builds as we live our lives. It is elusive in our 20's, 30's even 40's ....who cares about that old stuff. But there comes a time and if we have not built the foundation to that time, we will have nothing....barren land.
I do not want to idealize my life looking backwards to memory, but to cherish those memories I have. Sometimes in our quiet times that is what is left.
Monday, December 28, 2009
Last 2 Reads of 2009
Finished Andy Williams' autographed memoir, "Moon River and Me" which I bought in Branson at his theater. Absolutely enjoyable reading and a keeper. I loved it. I have long been a fan and if you read my posts on this blog about Branson and our experience at his show/theater, you know that.
I did not know as much about Andy but learned he is from a small town, Wall City Iowa and Des Moines was the first big city for the Williams Brothers to hitch their star. Their father was the driving force. Andy is now 82 and a true legend of our lifetime. Reading this memoir, I learned he is a perfectionist to whom good enough never occurs and he remains a workaholic. He describes in detail his early hard way to go on the road in 1954 while in Cleveland and he eats dog food. Sadly some of the worst times were in Pittsburgh (my home area) and to this day he’s averse to going there. In his early days he is quite drawn to older women, some are 20+ years older than himself. But later in life that changes where today now with his 2nd wife where he is the certain elder.
Poignant chapters about Andy’s life endeared him more so to me. There is humor, for example, when he is in Paris France working with Quincy Jones to produce his first album. Persistently knocking on the wrong apartment door for the key gets him kicked n the shins! The retreat to enjoy hot buttered rums in the lodge while golfing with friends and how Fred Mac Murray who was tighter that the skin on a wiener loses dice three times in a row to buy the rounds is a hoot.
I had forgotten that he and his brothers sing the background on "Would You like to Swing ona Star" with Bing Crosby. This is one of the first songs I rmember singing and something that stayed with me all my life. I have a pair of earrings with angels sitting on the side of the moon ready to swing on a star and a pin a long gone friend, Roberta, bought me with the star dangling and the angel ready to take off and swing on it. No wonder I love Andy, he's part of my circle of life.
There is pathos when he describes his father’s death and his eldest brother’s dementia. There is example after example of his perseverance. There is history when he descries the early days of his San Diego golf tournament and how these came to be sponsored and then directed by commercial venues. Over several chapters, Andy describes his deep friendship with Bobby Kennedy; they were in Los Angeles at the hotel waiting to join him for dinner when Bobby was killed. He sang the Battle Hymn of the Republic at Bobby’s funeral, something he did with a heavy heart and tears. It’s interesting how a Republican became so close to Bobby but also demonstrates that Bobby Kennedy was idealistic and beyond a party. Andy writes about his first marriage to Claudine Longet, his children and accepts total responsibility for the end of that marriage as he was working all the time. He also shares the tragedy when Claudine shoots Spider Savich in Aspen, CO. I had forgotten that story.
So many wonderful chapters were favorites but perhaps the best was reading the details about how he came to Branson and his efforts (perfectionist top notch) engaged in construction of his magnificent Moon River Theater. His interest in artwork and paintings derives from his early days of poverty where he spent time visiting any and all galleries and museums. Today he is an avid collector. Many treasures are displayed in his Theater in Branson. Today he is at the point of contentment in his life which he divides between Branson, MO & La Quinta, CA. I treasured every page and recommend this book to anyone who likes to read biographies. I learned a lot about Andy and enjoyed this immensely. I am going to write a fan letter to Andy about this book and our experience at his theater. I have never done that in my adult life and we will see if I get a reply. Our next trip to Branson, we are going back and will stop at his Moon River Grill. Andy visits it almost daily, when in Branson, he says, because the food is free!
Andy Williams is a dear man who is not bitter but who is I am sure very demanding. Most perfectionist are. But what a voice!
In order to read Andy's memoir, I had to finish Sarah Pailin's "Going Rogue." It was a coincidence that she was speaking at the college of the Ozarks in Branson when we were there. I had her book with me and if we had not already purchased tickets to Dolly Parton's Dixie Stampede, we would have gone to hear Sarah. When John McCain chose her as his running mate, VP, I vacillated between puzzled and miffed. I now believe she made the most positive difference in the campaign and if she had been given a freer reign, McCain could have done better. Maybe no one would have beat Obsama and the Bush hating media, but Sarah is a force. Maybe she won't run again, but she is going to be active and will not go away!
I usually don’t buy books as soon as they are released, but when I saw this in Sam’s that day I put it in my shopping cart to support her. Contrary to what the hateful liberal critics say, I did not read any whining in this book. She is merely getting her side out there. Because I spent a long career in high levels of CA state government in several departments I absolutely believe what she says. I encountered some of the very same situations in my career. I know it happens. She is a woman of her word, unusual in politics. When Sarah says she will do something, count on it. Her allegiance to principles made many enemies for her early on in Alaska, even in her own Republican party. It certainly upset the Exxon oil company. I believe many of the difficulties she encounters still today have deep roots there. Repercussions of messing with big oil? I can believe it.
I now understand why she resigned as Governor, though I still wish she could have toughed it out. She was absolutely paralyzed by the ethics charges filed left and right by the DNC and the liberals. Alaska law allows anyone to file these, regardless of whether or not they are an Alaskan citizen.
I have been intrigued by her marriage to a blue collar guy because I have lived similarly with marriage Jerry for 42+ years. There is not the breadth of personal information in this book that I might have preferred. There is a bit about her childhood in Alaska and her college years and many photos. Most of the book is about her political experiences which are good reading too. She does describe life in the salmon fisheries, dog sledding, the Iditarod and life in Alaska. Nevertheless I absolutely enjoyed this book and it will remain among my collection. One of my favorite quotes is on page 386 where she espouses her belief that the “role of government is to protect us not to perfect us.” I hope her dad is right on when he says that, “Don’t worry about Sarah. She is not retreating, she’s just reloading!”
Poignant chapters about Andy’s life endeared him more so to me. There is humor, for example, when he is in Paris France working with Quincy Jones to produce his first album. Persistently knocking on the wrong apartment door for the key gets him kicked n the shins! The retreat to enjoy hot buttered rums in the lodge while golfing with friends and how Fred Mac Murray who was tighter that the skin on a wiener loses dice three times in a row to buy the rounds is a hoot.
I had forgotten that he and his brothers sing the background on "Would You like to Swing ona Star" with Bing Crosby. This is one of the first songs I rmember singing and something that stayed with me all my life. I have a pair of earrings with angels sitting on the side of the moon ready to swing on a star and a pin a long gone friend, Roberta, bought me with the star dangling and the angel ready to take off and swing on it. No wonder I love Andy, he's part of my circle of life.
There is pathos when he describes his father’s death and his eldest brother’s dementia. There is example after example of his perseverance. There is history when he descries the early days of his San Diego golf tournament and how these came to be sponsored and then directed by commercial venues. Over several chapters, Andy describes his deep friendship with Bobby Kennedy; they were in Los Angeles at the hotel waiting to join him for dinner when Bobby was killed. He sang the Battle Hymn of the Republic at Bobby’s funeral, something he did with a heavy heart and tears. It’s interesting how a Republican became so close to Bobby but also demonstrates that Bobby Kennedy was idealistic and beyond a party. Andy writes about his first marriage to Claudine Longet, his children and accepts total responsibility for the end of that marriage as he was working all the time. He also shares the tragedy when Claudine shoots Spider Savich in Aspen, CO. I had forgotten that story.
So many wonderful chapters were favorites but perhaps the best was reading the details about how he came to Branson and his efforts (perfectionist top notch) engaged in construction of his magnificent Moon River Theater. His interest in artwork and paintings derives from his early days of poverty where he spent time visiting any and all galleries and museums. Today he is an avid collector. Many treasures are displayed in his Theater in Branson. Today he is at the point of contentment in his life which he divides between Branson, MO & La Quinta, CA. I treasured every page and recommend this book to anyone who likes to read biographies. I learned a lot about Andy and enjoyed this immensely. I am going to write a fan letter to Andy about this book and our experience at his theater. I have never done that in my adult life and we will see if I get a reply. Our next trip to Branson, we are going back and will stop at his Moon River Grill. Andy visits it almost daily, when in Branson, he says, because the food is free!
Andy Williams is a dear man who is not bitter but who is I am sure very demanding. Most perfectionist are. But what a voice!
In order to read Andy's memoir, I had to finish Sarah Pailin's "Going Rogue." It was a coincidence that she was speaking at the college of the Ozarks in Branson when we were there. I had her book with me and if we had not already purchased tickets to Dolly Parton's Dixie Stampede, we would have gone to hear Sarah. When John McCain chose her as his running mate, VP, I vacillated between puzzled and miffed. I now believe she made the most positive difference in the campaign and if she had been given a freer reign, McCain could have done better. Maybe no one would have beat Obsama and the Bush hating media, but Sarah is a force. Maybe she won't run again, but she is going to be active and will not go away!
I usually don’t buy books as soon as they are released, but when I saw this in Sam’s that day I put it in my shopping cart to support her. Contrary to what the hateful liberal critics say, I did not read any whining in this book. She is merely getting her side out there. Because I spent a long career in high levels of CA state government in several departments I absolutely believe what she says. I encountered some of the very same situations in my career. I know it happens. She is a woman of her word, unusual in politics. When Sarah says she will do something, count on it. Her allegiance to principles made many enemies for her early on in Alaska, even in her own Republican party. It certainly upset the Exxon oil company. I believe many of the difficulties she encounters still today have deep roots there. Repercussions of messing with big oil? I can believe it.
I now understand why she resigned as Governor, though I still wish she could have toughed it out. She was absolutely paralyzed by the ethics charges filed left and right by the DNC and the liberals. Alaska law allows anyone to file these, regardless of whether or not they are an Alaskan citizen.
I have been intrigued by her marriage to a blue collar guy because I have lived similarly with marriage Jerry for 42+ years. There is not the breadth of personal information in this book that I might have preferred. There is a bit about her childhood in Alaska and her college years and many photos. Most of the book is about her political experiences which are good reading too. She does describe life in the salmon fisheries, dog sledding, the Iditarod and life in Alaska. Nevertheless I absolutely enjoyed this book and it will remain among my collection. One of my favorite quotes is on page 386 where she espouses her belief that the “role of government is to protect us not to perfect us.” I hope her dad is right on when he says that, “Don’t worry about Sarah. She is not retreating, she’s just reloading!”
Saturday, December 26, 2009
Signs and reasons
Day after Christmas, the sun is shining with diamond like sparkles glistening outside as I try to pay attention to my tasks at hand. Being a likely ADD though never diagnosed, I find it so easy to wander from blog to Face book to internet searches to other activities.
I believe strongly in signs and intuition. However, I don’t always recognize these nor do I follow them when I do recognize them. The times in my life where I have had big whopping doozies of difficulty occurred when I did not follow my intuition. It’s those times when I knew better but listened to the arguments in my own head saying, “.. give it/him/her/them a chance..” “another chance..”…” this won’t be so bad…” and the worst of all for someone like me who has a lifetime of knowing better, “just be nice…”
This must be why on tests and quizzes the professionals say go with your first choice, trust your gut. Many times I’ve ignored my gut, reasoning myself into trouble. So here I sit fingers on keyboard when I would rather find something outside to do. I am avoiding any after Christmas sale shopping today. But I am also pondering about writing.
I always told my friends and co-workers I would write a book. I have played various titles and topics through my head,
A couple years ago I took a literature class at UW La Crosse for which we had to write a short essay about a photo. At the time I was pondering and working on a 50th anniversary photo album for our friends. I used a photo from that collection and wrote about my hair styles over the years, titled, “Hair Scapades” The instructor and women in the class loved it. The instructor asked me if I ever considered publishing some stories.
But lately the signs continue. Just Tuesday the local paper carried a story about a group with the headline, “Writer’s Block in Retirement?” ; it’s a group who gather to write and critique each other’s work. They are inviting other aspiring writers or story tellers from the greater La Crosse area to join them. There’s the sign and then here’s the reason, the group consists of five men, all retirees and one a former reporter. I am for not darn sure I want to go sit with some old men….I know some widows who would jump at that chance, but I turn up my nose. Perhaps my curiosity will get the best of me and I’ll try to go one time. Maybe I can learn something from them. Maybe it won’t be as bad as I can imagine. Perhaps I can find that story I wrote about “My Search for a Church” that cracked Annette up and made her share it with her friends who don’t even know me. That’s the chore, where is it? I suspect it was an email long gone. I also recall that it was about my expulsion from a women’s bible study! That was funny~
The facts are that writing has generally always come easily to me whether it is a letter, a short tale of amusement, or in my career a dissertation and or technical analysis. Words come easily. And I can edit something to death and back. However, words do not always pop up like toast! Sometimes there is a blank spot, writer’s block. Sometimes there is just too much fidgetiness in me to sit still at a keyboard and write. Now is that a sign (like don’t waste time) or is that the reason (like why it won’t work)? I don’t know but I will try to pursue this and do better in 2010. OMG a New Year’s resolution—I gave those up long ago when it wasn’t even Lent!
This must be why on tests and quizzes the professionals say go with your first choice, trust your gut. Many times I’ve ignored my gut, reasoning myself into trouble. So here I sit fingers on keyboard when I would rather find something outside to do. I am avoiding any after Christmas sale shopping today. But I am also pondering about writing.
- “Commuters” which would have been about the many and sundry characters I met commuting from Newcastle to downtown Sacramento, first by vanpool and then by bus for almost 30 years.
- “Life in the Bureaucrazy” which is not misspelled. My 31+ year government career certainly provided me with no end of material. I fancied this might become a sitcom which would be most humorous to those of us inside bureaucracies. Then I thought that surely it would be viewed as absolute fiction by those who made their livings in the private sector. Well, the Brits beat me to it with “The Office” a TV sitcom which I find stupid, but which is seen as humorous by many.
- “Growing up among the Ethnics” because in PA while I was Polish there were many ethnicities in our town, the Italians, the Jews, the Irish, the Syrians, and more….I had good friends in each of these groups, so I became interested in different cultures. I also became quite tolerant of foreign accents because my own grandparents had them as did of my friends’ grandparents.
- “The Great Mistake.” This would have detailed my 19 year old escapade, dropping out of a semi-Ivy League college, kicking a fully paid 4 year scholarship in the ass to marry who turned out to be a real jerk and to flee to CA. Water under the bridge but how I stayed across the country from all family and survived and thrived without any form of welfare might be good reading. This would be kind of like the perils of Pat at times, and include my grandmother to the rescue. It’s a rough thing to wake up across the country one morning when you should be getting ready to return to college and saying, “What the hell is this!” Fortunately for me, somewhere the stamina, perseverance and solid faith turned that brief first marriage upside down, inside out and set me about right. It is why I am so vehemently against young girls marrying. Anyone with any sense and anyone who does not saddle herself with child after child soon awaken to know she is changing immensely between the ages of 18 and 23. I have analyzed chapters in this book repeatedly as to why and how I could have been so dumb.
- "How could I have been so dumb?" Easy writing about living my life. This can be about other whoppers, some if which I came out the other side smarter, some of which I came out the other side barely and stinging.
- "People come and go" This one would be about the losses of my closest friends, family. And it would start with memories about my father whom I never knew.
A couple years ago I took a literature class at UW La Crosse for which we had to write a short essay about a photo. At the time I was pondering and working on a 50th anniversary photo album for our friends. I used a photo from that collection and wrote about my hair styles over the years, titled, “Hair Scapades” The instructor and women in the class loved it. The instructor asked me if I ever considered publishing some stories.
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
Most Wonderful Time of the Year ? Really
I love that song, especially when sung by Andy Williams, but I the last two days make me realize something is not jiving with the lyrics. Yesterday in the grocery store in La Crosse, I encountered one of the rudest fools I've ever encountered, and you know being from crowded CA land of the fruit and nuts I have met many!
I was in the checkout lane and the bagger was bagging my groceries into my own bags which I take dutifully in so as to not overuse the plastic ones. I was entering my pin into the machine for the ATM card to pay for my groceries when, WHOP, the man behind me whacked me with his cart. I looked at him thinking it was probably an accident and surely he would apologize. He did not. I began to continue to enter my pin and WHOP again. Same man, same cart, same side of me! This is annoying!
Well, with this I turn at him and say in my most annoyed tone, “What is wrong with you!” To which he replies, “Can’t you move up, I’m in a hurry!” I glare and say, “Everyone is but I have nowhere to go! The girl is loading my groceries into my cart which is in front of me.” “Oh, he says, I didn’t see her!” I’m really annoyed beyond now, so I glare at him again. And he continues, “We have to get out children!” He and his wife are somewhere in their 20’s I gauge and now he is almost hyperventilating. I think to myself, but I was restrained by my powers proof once again that there is a Higher Power and My People, that I will soon give him a reason to hyperventilate if he does not quit shoving me. Wonder how he will like a black leather shoulder bag across the head?
The cashier whose mouth had fallen open explains to him that we must first finish my transaction and he will have to wait. This generates his frantic loud wail, “Well we have to get our children, children are being killed all the time. We have to pick them up.” I am now ready to move on as my last bag is in my cart but I do this casually while glaring at him and saying, “Then what the hell are you doing in the store! And Merry Christmas!” The cashier is now smiling and the bag girl has stepped aside covering her mouth and trying to keep from laughing. Meantime, this dope continues his mad hatter imitation, wailing, “Our children, we must get our children!” I take one final look at his wife who must bemany cards short of the full deck too because she appears oblivious. Why the mentally ill are allowed to run loose, and further why are they allowed to reproduce themselves freely? Can you imagine the life progeny of that fool and his spouse have? I saw them in the parking lot as I returned my cart to the cart collection. Hope no one go in their way because he was pedal to the medal out along the busy street!
When I got home and told Jerry he said, “You should have told him, sure I’ll move and you pay for my groceries, jackass!” That would have been fitting too.
Last night, I installed Windows 7 onto our new laptop. Mistake which took from 5:00PM till 10:30 PM. First I had to backup the files, which was time consuming and meant changing discs five times. Then the Windows7 installation and replacing Windows Vista was another long process. Finally I had to download Windows Live because Windows 7 does not have an email application. Now that really did it! I do not like Windows live. I do not like Windows 7. I will uninstall the whole mess and go back to the way it was! Now I sound like Sam I Am who does not like green eggs or ham! Such a waste of time and more annoyance, courtesy of that bazillionaire Bill Gates and Microsoft! Bah!
Today I had some long distance calls to make which is why I have my blackberry. I thought it was odd last night that Pearly was not jingling signaling my receipt of emails from my gmail. But I didn’t think too much about it. Likely no one is emailing, it’s too close to Christmas and most folks are as busy as me! But when I went to make a call, something was not happening. Checking the screen, I notice no connection. Nada, zip, zero, not! How can this be, Pearl had reception in the Red Rock Mountains of Colorado. Well there is a nasty winter storm descending on us, could that affect it? I have to know and Jerry is saying, maybe the server is down. Well, I think how dumb is that, Blackberry always works! I finally use our home phone and call the center in La Crosse. The man tells me that there is a global issue with Blackberry and all the servers are down with no estimated fix time! I mention that I had no email last night and he tells me that this phenomenon occurred between 5:30-6:00PM last night. So nothing to do but wait and at least be thankful that we are not traveling when cell is our only phone service. And then I think it could be far worse, we could be among those who have forfeited their landlines and rely only on cell! This is a very good reason to maintain a home phone. Who would ever have thought this! But wait just a minute! I understand our president, Obsama, spender in chief uses a blackberry. Has he known about this? Is this a way to push more of his agenda? They already control the media and presstitudes of mainstream reporting. What if they are now controlling the air ways….for those who believe he is the antichrist, the Darth Vader, villain of the La Haye, Left Behind Series, maybe. But for now, I will go along, not panic and trust that Blackberry Global outage will soon be restored.
It’s the most wonderful time of the year, I don’t think so. Not today, not yesterday either. Enough of this, time for a good glass of wine!
I was in the checkout lane and the bagger was bagging my groceries into my own bags which I take dutifully in so as to not overuse the plastic ones. I was entering my pin into the machine for the ATM card to pay for my groceries when, WHOP, the man behind me whacked me with his cart. I looked at him thinking it was probably an accident and surely he would apologize. He did not. I began to continue to enter my pin and WHOP again. Same man, same cart, same side of me! This is annoying!
Well, with this I turn at him and say in my most annoyed tone, “What is wrong with you!” To which he replies, “Can’t you move up, I’m in a hurry!” I glare and say, “Everyone is but I have nowhere to go! The girl is loading my groceries into my cart which is in front of me.” “Oh, he says, I didn’t see her!” I’m really annoyed beyond now, so I glare at him again. And he continues, “We have to get out children!” He and his wife are somewhere in their 20’s I gauge and now he is almost hyperventilating. I think to myself, but I was restrained by my powers proof once again that there is a Higher Power and My People, that I will soon give him a reason to hyperventilate if he does not quit shoving me. Wonder how he will like a black leather shoulder bag across the head?
The cashier whose mouth had fallen open explains to him that we must first finish my transaction and he will have to wait. This generates his frantic loud wail, “Well we have to get our children, children are being killed all the time. We have to pick them up.” I am now ready to move on as my last bag is in my cart but I do this casually while glaring at him and saying, “Then what the hell are you doing in the store! And Merry Christmas!” The cashier is now smiling and the bag girl has stepped aside covering her mouth and trying to keep from laughing. Meantime, this dope continues his mad hatter imitation, wailing, “Our children, we must get our children!” I take one final look at his wife who must bemany cards short of the full deck too because she appears oblivious. Why the mentally ill are allowed to run loose, and further why are they allowed to reproduce themselves freely? Can you imagine the life progeny of that fool and his spouse have? I saw them in the parking lot as I returned my cart to the cart collection. Hope no one go in their way because he was pedal to the medal out along the busy street!
When I got home and told Jerry he said, “You should have told him, sure I’ll move and you pay for my groceries, jackass!” That would have been fitting too.
Last night, I installed Windows 7 onto our new laptop. Mistake which took from 5:00PM till 10:30 PM. First I had to backup the files, which was time consuming and meant changing discs five times. Then the Windows7 installation and replacing Windows Vista was another long process. Finally I had to download Windows Live because Windows 7 does not have an email application. Now that really did it! I do not like Windows live. I do not like Windows 7. I will uninstall the whole mess and go back to the way it was! Now I sound like Sam I Am who does not like green eggs or ham! Such a waste of time and more annoyance, courtesy of that bazillionaire Bill Gates and Microsoft! Bah!
Today I had some long distance calls to make which is why I have my blackberry. I thought it was odd last night that Pearly was not jingling signaling my receipt of emails from my gmail. But I didn’t think too much about it. Likely no one is emailing, it’s too close to Christmas and most folks are as busy as me! But when I went to make a call, something was not happening. Checking the screen, I notice no connection. Nada, zip, zero, not! How can this be, Pearl had reception in the Red Rock Mountains of Colorado. Well there is a nasty winter storm descending on us, could that affect it? I have to know and Jerry is saying, maybe the server is down. Well, I think how dumb is that, Blackberry always works! I finally use our home phone and call the center in La Crosse. The man tells me that there is a global issue with Blackberry and all the servers are down with no estimated fix time! I mention that I had no email last night and he tells me that this phenomenon occurred between 5:30-6:00PM last night. So nothing to do but wait and at least be thankful that we are not traveling when cell is our only phone service. And then I think it could be far worse, we could be among those who have forfeited their landlines and rely only on cell! This is a very good reason to maintain a home phone. Who would ever have thought this! But wait just a minute! I understand our president, Obsama, spender in chief uses a blackberry. Has he known about this? Is this a way to push more of his agenda? They already control the media and presstitudes of mainstream reporting. What if they are now controlling the air ways….for those who believe he is the antichrist, the Darth Vader, villain of the La Haye, Left Behind Series, maybe. But for now, I will go along, not panic and trust that Blackberry Global outage will soon be restored.
It’s the most wonderful time of the year, I don’t think so. Not today, not yesterday either. Enough of this, time for a good glass of wine!
Monday, December 21, 2009
Retirement and relocations
I talked to a friend from my CA career days last week who lives in Arkansas. We'd not been in touch for several months because I thought she was moving back to CA and was waiting to hear her new address from her. Her Annual Christmas letter came revealing that she was still in Arkansas. She still plans to return to CA because she wants to be around her long time friends and just has not felt at home in the south. It's not that she cannot adjust; it's that what may be around for her to adjust to is boring to her. But now she will not be moving until April, after winter.
I can understand her reasons; she is an educated well read woman who would like to discuss news, views, something of interest besides families and grand children ad nauseum. She likes good conversation and just exchanging ideas. When you have had an interesting life long career (different than just going to work) you develop a far different perspective than those who are just in the job market to make a wage. And you certainly have a different perspective than those who never ventured from their home hearth concentrating instead on raising children, grandchildren, etc. I talked to Annette about this and she felt that was a big part of it. It would be similar to melding LA Law characters with those of Leave it to Beaver.
Her interests are broad. Although she loves the house they have, at 78 she finds it's time to return to CA as upside down as it is so that she can enjoy friendships. It just has not happened in her two years in Arkansas. I know others like Annette who regret their moves. It is so difficult to assimilate into an area of entrenched families. I think that is one other reason why the senior areas like Sun Cities are attractive to retirees. I would have been interested in a venue like that but Jerry absolutely did not would not! I have many friends who have all moved out of CA and we stay in touch on the computer or by cell phone, so I do not feel as out of it. If all I relied on for friendship was right here, I could be feeling like Annette.
Sometimes I have thought we made a mistake moving here to La Crescent, a tiny Midwest town of entrenched families and wives, mothers, etc. I miss those good conversations with people who have a basis for opinion. I have a few friends here with whom I can talk. When we determined to move from CA we chose MN for several reasons:
But back to the dilemma of assimilating into an area. I talked to my childhood friend, Dayna, in PA who moved back to our home town 9 years ago. She complained it took her a long time to reengage with family and build friendships. Seems it's the same old story--people are only concerned with themselves. We found this very different in California where people were not living where they'd grown up and were more conciliatory to others. Many of us who became close friends joked that we had no families there so we made our own of each other. Afterall there is a distinct advantage to choosing family!
I think Jerry has this right when he reminds me that the relocation isn't the full cause of feeling alone. Retiring is part of it. Things change. We no longer have the stimulation and agitation of daily career encounters. But after a lifelong career around people we find a big difference when we retire. If we don't have hobbies and interests, we will easily feel out of place, ignored, not comfortable at best. With us, I always had different interests like rose gardening, poetry groups, attending theater and was able to do those; Jerry and I did not live in each other's pocket. Now I find I do miss my friends with whom I could do those things. I have not built that type of group around here. But those friends are no longer in CA either, they have moved and some have died. So it's a challenge. I am fortunate in my ability to entertain myself at great length with a book and on this computer and writing which I have neglected.
Matter of fact that was what I started to write about today. Annette strongly suggested to me that I seek publication on some of what I write. She also encouraged me to write more and use my talents. She particularly likes an email I sent years ago about my encounters searching for a church and Bible study. She said that was just so good that she shared it with her friends who don't know me but reportedly enjoyed my writing. Now I have four people who have mentioned this strongly and who continue to prod me. Maybe they have something there. Maybe if I could just find the time to sit still and concentrate I could do that. I have always enjoyed writing and many times have been complimented on writings whether letters or analytical papers for my profession or articles about gardening and rose growing.
I know one thing, when I don't take advantage of what is in front of me, I regret it. Perhaps it is a suggestion to which I should pay attention. Heaven knows that here in retirement I don't have people running in and out of my home, I guess I could use some of my time to write about our lives, travels, you name it. And I am still cogitating on writing something for our 50th high school class reunion; I have until closer to 2012 for that! Actually this blog became my outlet and even then I don't keep it up consistently.
- Jerry thought it would be neat to return to his hometown;
- It's in the central part of the country which can facilitate our motor home travel.
- My mother was still alive in PA when we bought here in 2002. This is closer
- Better quality of life in Midwest than crazee CA.
- Finally, Jerry's now 92 year old mother; wherever we went she had to go too. She was willing to come to her old home town. Now as life has turned, here our leisure travel is greatly restricted due to the responsibility of her. She refuses to go into an assisted living and this ties us down. We would both love to leave for part of the winter, but not so. I am almost to the point of being resentful about this. A woman at a party Saturday night advised; well just go on with your life. She had hers and why should she get to rule yours now, you worked for you fun. Well, we know that too but here it is another retirement plan on hold or in need of downward adjustment! (We plan and God laughs!) Oh it's not fair, or sure, she has two other adult children. Neither of them is going to take on the Florence dilemma, while they sympathize about us, they live an easy life not compounded with her daily eccentricities and worse.
Friday, December 18, 2009
Babushka's for me!?
I know it's my Medicare arrival year. But am I really aging that much? I'm pondering this question because, I do not want to don a babushka!
I felt I was coming down with an ear ache. I have not had one of these since childhood. Back then they said it was from not covering up my head and ears in the winter. My mom and grandmother always scolded me about that. Didin't matter, once I got out of sight, off came the knit hat and or ear muffs--freedom for the hair! Stuffed them into pockets and off I went debonair and free hairing. I have always preferred my head uncovered and that worked most of my life. Hats in the summer to keep the sun off my head affect me the same way. All those 40+ years in CA and who really needs to cover their head there even in the damp cold fog of Sacramento?
Here in the MN tundra winter that appears imminent again with temperatures of below zero, 15 degrees and 20's-- which feel warm,-- I neglect to cover my head. Running errands, in and out of the car, who thinks of these things? Yesterday though while picking up some presents at Woodmen's I felt that sharp piecing ache in the ear that goes down through the gland. Ooops. This is not good. "Cover your head, Patty" came the voice from the past. I pulled up my eskimo hood on my jacket. While entering the store I noticed an old lady with a babushka scarf on her head tied under her chin, hobbling along. Flash back to PA, that's how all the old women dressed. My grandma would no more have gone out without her babushka and heavy hat over it than she'd have ice skated across the railroad tracks. My mom and aunt did the same. My aunt particularly in her last years would tell me when we talked to "be sure to cover you head, because you never were very good at listening to that and you will get sick!"
Well I will try to cover up with the eskimo hood from now on. The cold wind is just too bitter and maybe I'm not as likely to go bare headed....but please just don't make me become a babushka woman!
I can vaguely recall an old tale/skit that I performed in Girl Scout Days, about Babuska, the rabbit eating flowers....Hmm will have ot think on that...
I felt I was coming down with an ear ache. I have not had one of these since childhood. Back then they said it was from not covering up my head and ears in the winter. My mom and grandmother always scolded me about that. Didin't matter, once I got out of sight, off came the knit hat and or ear muffs--freedom for the hair! Stuffed them into pockets and off I went debonair and free hairing. I have always preferred my head uncovered and that worked most of my life. Hats in the summer to keep the sun off my head affect me the same way. All those 40+ years in CA and who really needs to cover their head there even in the damp cold fog of Sacramento?
Here in the MN tundra winter that appears imminent again with temperatures of below zero, 15 degrees and 20's-- which feel warm,-- I neglect to cover my head. Running errands, in and out of the car, who thinks of these things? Yesterday though while picking up some presents at Woodmen's I felt that sharp piecing ache in the ear that goes down through the gland. Ooops. This is not good. "Cover your head, Patty" came the voice from the past. I pulled up my eskimo hood on my jacket. While entering the store I noticed an old lady with a babushka scarf on her head tied under her chin, hobbling along. Flash back to PA, that's how all the old women dressed. My grandma would no more have gone out without her babushka and heavy hat over it than she'd have ice skated across the railroad tracks. My mom and aunt did the same. My aunt particularly in her last years would tell me when we talked to "be sure to cover you head, because you never were very good at listening to that and you will get sick!"
Well I will try to cover up with the eskimo hood from now on. The cold wind is just too bitter and maybe I'm not as likely to go bare headed....but please just don't make me become a babushka woman!
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