This post contains one of my memories of my mother as a young woman. She was always very proper and correct. Here is the incident as I remember it from the perspective of a 7 year old child.
Skirt flapping and legs flashing, my mother made a one-legged bee-line for our rented farm house as her family doubled over with laughter in the apple orchard. I can still see her in my mind's eye as clearly as the day it happened.
Friends of my parents were visiting us at our house that butted up to an old apple orchard belonging to our dairy farmer neighbor. It was a balmy summer day - warm and breezy - the perfect day for a group stroll in the orchard. It trees were old and gnarled and their fruit was spotty and mealy so the farmer sent his dairy cows into it daily to graze. Large thistles dotted the closely cropped grass, so you had to watch your step for more than one reason in this old orchard turned cow pasture.
My mother was wearing a plaid shirtwaist dress and thin rubber flip-flops (we called them Zorries.) The adults were walking in a group as my twin sister and older sister buzzed around them like flies circling a warm apple pie. The adults walked too slow for us to stay with them all the time, but Mom, Dad, "Uncle" Leland, and mom's sister, Ruth, were lazing along enjoying the sunshine and good conversation.
Suddenly we heard a screech followed by... "Leland! Put me down!" We kids stopped in our tracks, turned to see Leland grinning and gripping my shrieking aunt around her waist holding her above a huge thistle plant bristling with sturdy thorns. Her tanned legs bicycled as she tried to wriggle out of his clutches as his smile spread wider. "Okay! I'll put you down right here!" he chuckled and started lowering her down onto the thistle plant.
As Ruth's shrieks increased in volume, Mom went to her rescue...and stepped smack dab in the center of a fresh cow pie!! Pasty brown manure squished out between the ground and the rubber sole of her flip-flop in slow motion as my mother stared at her foot in horror!
Time stopped. We all stared at the manure curling up over her bare toes like a tsunami.
Then...my Dad snickered, opening floodgates of laughter from the rest of the adults...."Ha, ha, ha, ha!" I looked incredulously at Dad, stunned that he was actually laughing at Mom. He NEVER laughed at her! Soon we were all howling so hard we had doubled over clutching our stomachs.
Mom's face reddened when she saw that even the sister she tried to rescue was laughing at her. She turned and started hopping and running back to the house, disgusted with us all. I can still see her make that desperate run for the house, cow-pie bits falling off the flip-flop that she held gingerly at arms length.
Those were good times...but not for Dad. Someone didn't talk to him for quite some time!
Sunday, April 20, 2008
Saturday, April 19, 2008
Nothing Much...
Nothing much has been going on but work this week. I'm always amazed at how tired I get when returning to teaching after a week off. We did have a nice campfire with my sister last night and today spent some time at my other sister's twenty-fifth wedding anniversary, but tomorrow promises to be a day full of leaf-raking and laundry.
At the end of the evening my husband and I sat watching night fall after walking Gingersnap along the road. The peepers were in full voice down at the lake and wetlands that are across our country road. As we sat petting Jerry and Ginger an owl swooped silently past us from the fir just off the deck. His flight path ended in the dark woods to our south.
"This beats living in town," my husband stated. I agreed wholeheartedly.
At the end of the evening my husband and I sat watching night fall after walking Gingersnap along the road. The peepers were in full voice down at the lake and wetlands that are across our country road. As we sat petting Jerry and Ginger an owl swooped silently past us from the fir just off the deck. His flight path ended in the dark woods to our south.
"This beats living in town," my husband stated. I agreed wholeheartedly.
Thursday, April 10, 2008
Anticipation of Summer
As our days lengthen and the temperatures warm, anticipation of summer joys begins. Here are a few of my favorite things that summer brings!
I hope we all have a fabulous summer this year!
I hope we all have a fabulous summer this year!
Wednesday, April 9, 2008
In Her Youth
The young woman on the left in this old photo is Katherine, my mother. She's been on my mind a lot this week; tomorrow will be the seventh day since she left this world. My mother had lifelong faith in God, lived an exemplary life, raised three girls along with Dad, and was an inspiration to many.
To her right is her friend, Connie, followed by her younger sister, Delores. Delores married a man from Oklahoma and spent her life in that state with sporadic visits to her northern family. She died young in her late forties of a brain aneurysm, being granted her "oft-repeated" wish of never growing old.
As the eldest daughter my mother was taught responsibility by her parents at an early age, and lived her life accordingly. I wonder if mom's life lived up to the dreams of her youth? I'll never know...sadly, I never asked her. Unlike her sister she never wished to never grow old, even after caring for her mother who was transformed by Alzheimer's during the final twelve years of her life. When she entered old age, our Mother faced all the indignities of failing health and memory with grace and even managed a bit of humor now and then. Her vascular dementia made her more of what she had been in life, a good, kind woman.
Mom, I hope Heaven is everything you and Dad thought it would be. Rest easy. Your work here is done. We all miss you.
To her right is her friend, Connie, followed by her younger sister, Delores. Delores married a man from Oklahoma and spent her life in that state with sporadic visits to her northern family. She died young in her late forties of a brain aneurysm, being granted her "oft-repeated" wish of never growing old.
As the eldest daughter my mother was taught responsibility by her parents at an early age, and lived her life accordingly. I wonder if mom's life lived up to the dreams of her youth? I'll never know...sadly, I never asked her. Unlike her sister she never wished to never grow old, even after caring for her mother who was transformed by Alzheimer's during the final twelve years of her life. When she entered old age, our Mother faced all the indignities of failing health and memory with grace and even managed a bit of humor now and then. Her vascular dementia made her more of what she had been in life, a good, kind woman.
Mom, I hope Heaven is everything you and Dad thought it would be. Rest easy. Your work here is done. We all miss you.
Tuesday, April 8, 2008
Seventeen Acre Companions
Our first picture of Gingersnap shows her disapproval of the snow as she trots gingerly around the perimeter. "We'll just go look at the shelter, that's all." But when I saw her calm, friendly demeanor in the outside kennels while the other dogs were going wild with excitement I was drawn to her. She's a hound-pitbull mix with a sweet personality and is friendly to all. Her brindle and white coat is beautiful!Ben, our elderly Saint Bernard, and Jerry whom you may have already met here, welcomed her with the "Hello" sniff-fest and only a little curiosity. She responded in kind and I knew all would be well.
She's our first medium sized dog and appears to have inherited the best traits of her mixed lineage. Her favorite toys are stuffed hedgehogs whose round sturdy bodies and tiny felt feet seem determined to withstand her chewing and pulling power. When she desires some lap time she rummages up a hedgehog and presents it as a "please hold me" bribe. Cute!
Of all our companion animals, Ashley has the most seniority, being almost thirteen years old. She's a polished beggar and stretches out her poly dactyl paw to try to "hook" the food morsel you're holding. Ashley has been altered, as are all our adoptees so we can save a life while not adding to the horrible problem of unwanted animals in this country. 3-4 million are euthanized annually, estimates the Humane Society.
Ben, our Saint, is very old and has lost a lot of muscle mass while still continuing to have a good appetite. He does "wibble-wobble" around a lot and sometimes needs help standing back up after a fall. Snow is one of his loves and in years past he would wander out behind our large shed to find the last vestiges of winter's bounty lying there crystallized just for him. This is a picture of him in his prime as we walk the trail we blazed through our woods. "Hurry up!" he seems to say as he looks back at my husband whom he adores.
When we adopted Nugget he was thin and had almost no hair on his tail or ears. But what he did have even then was his rumbling purr and affectionate nature. So we brought him home, got him vetted and cured of his skin condition. He was the first "new" cat the boys had met in a while, so there was much chasing and cornering of Nugget by the two dogs. Until... the dogs cornered him in the dining room with no way out. Nugget reared up on his hind legs, spread out his front legs, and with a mighty scream began batting practice on both dogs' muzzles simultaneously! At that instant his domination over them was established. He's our morning alarm clock as well, waking us for his morning breakfast with running passes through the bedroom.You've met our Jerry in my previous post. He looks much the same now except for his exceptional middle age spread. That's the list! Never a dull day with this crowd around.
Jerry's Dribbling
Jerry's got trouble with dribbling...so off we went to our country vet's office with the our reluctant almost-geriatric rottweiler in tow and urine sample in hand. We adopted him from our local Humane Society when he was five and "just neutered".
Here he is on his second day with us wanting inside and that's been his goal ever since - to spend every day, all day, inside snoozing. He's the most paw-draggin' dog I've ever known and when reluctance is added in, he moves at a snail's pace. I love him, but he's the exact opposite of my previous rottweiler, Max, who was high energy when he wasn't resting up for his next playtime.
"Well, his sample shows a high level of red blood cells. I'm afraid he may have a bladder tumor." Not words we had hoped to hear from our vet. "But we'll try a couple of weeks of antibiotics in case it's only a urinary tract infection." Aaww, Jerry, wouldn't you know you'd be the uncommon neutered male dog who is troubled with incontinence (normally a female problem and rare in male dogs.) Luckily for everyone Jerry is so laid-back that he didn't fuss at all the poking and prodding that was required for his exam even though he would have liked to avoid the prostate exam. What male wouldn't?
After paying the considerable bill and making an appointment two weeks out for a recheck of his urine we were free to return home and let the worrying begin. The patient is currently sleeping, oblivious to my concern.
Here he is on his second day with us wanting inside and that's been his goal ever since - to spend every day, all day, inside snoozing. He's the most paw-draggin' dog I've ever known and when reluctance is added in, he moves at a snail's pace. I love him, but he's the exact opposite of my previous rottweiler, Max, who was high energy when he wasn't resting up for his next playtime.
"Well, his sample shows a high level of red blood cells. I'm afraid he may have a bladder tumor." Not words we had hoped to hear from our vet. "But we'll try a couple of weeks of antibiotics in case it's only a urinary tract infection." Aaww, Jerry, wouldn't you know you'd be the uncommon neutered male dog who is troubled with incontinence (normally a female problem and rare in male dogs.) Luckily for everyone Jerry is so laid-back that he didn't fuss at all the poking and prodding that was required for his exam even though he would have liked to avoid the prostate exam. What male wouldn't?
After paying the considerable bill and making an appointment two weeks out for a recheck of his urine we were free to return home and let the worrying begin. The patient is currently sleeping, oblivious to my concern.
Monday, April 7, 2008
Last Summer's Model
Last summer this sweet cottontail decided to groom herself on our gravel driveway outside the kitchen window. I'm of the opinion that cottontails are quite possibly the most adorable wild creatures found on our small corner of the world. Wouldn't you agree?
I can't wait to see this year's models. (If they agree to stay out of the garden I'm planning.) Spring is coming even though snow is forecast for our neck of the woods this coming weekend. I'm hoping this is just a vile rumor...we received 14 inches during (what I had hoped was) our final snowfall of winter. Good thing the shovel is still by the back door!
I can't wait to see this year's models. (If they agree to stay out of the garden I'm planning.) Spring is coming even though snow is forecast for our neck of the woods this coming weekend. I'm hoping this is just a vile rumor...we received 14 inches during (what I had hoped was) our final snowfall of winter. Good thing the shovel is still by the back door!
Lost Lists (or the Pitfalls of Procrastination)
Somewhere in the dark void of procrastination are all the lists I've ever made containing vital information on important tasks I'm supposed to have done or be doing now. I'm a prolific list writer, but a below average doer of the tasks on my lists.
While cleaning out my cavernous purse/bag/survival kit I've come across lists more than six months old. Of course these FOUND LISTS are not the important tasks I need to be doing, but are grocery lists, unidentified phone numbers I've meant to write in my address book, reminders of what soaps co-workers have asked for, etc. You get the idea and these are just the lists that I've FOUND!
I've a suspicion that some of my balled up essential lists may have made their way across the fields, into the streams that feed the many rivers flowing into the Great Lakes. From there they may have made their soggy way out through the St. Lawrence Seaway and have been carried out into the Atlantic. After reaching the ocean it's quite possible they'd have followed the worldwide ocean currents and wound up in the enormous island of plastic trash that floats just below the surface of the Pacific somewhere between Hawaii and San Francisco! (If you don't believe me, just Google Giant Trash Island.) At least my lists were written on paper which will eventually decompose... Small comfort.
Now that I've got a blog I figure I can publish my lists here. I can't really misplace a blog, can I? So here are all the things I'm supposed to be doing while I'm on spring break from my teaching job. They've not been prioritized yet; I'm putting that off:
While cleaning out my cavernous purse/bag/survival kit I've come across lists more than six months old. Of course these FOUND LISTS are not the important tasks I need to be doing, but are grocery lists, unidentified phone numbers I've meant to write in my address book, reminders of what soaps co-workers have asked for, etc. You get the idea and these are just the lists that I've FOUND!
I've a suspicion that some of my balled up essential lists may have made their way across the fields, into the streams that feed the many rivers flowing into the Great Lakes. From there they may have made their soggy way out through the St. Lawrence Seaway and have been carried out into the Atlantic. After reaching the ocean it's quite possible they'd have followed the worldwide ocean currents and wound up in the enormous island of plastic trash that floats just below the surface of the Pacific somewhere between Hawaii and San Francisco! (If you don't believe me, just Google Giant Trash Island.) At least my lists were written on paper which will eventually decompose... Small comfort.
Now that I've got a blog I figure I can publish my lists here. I can't really misplace a blog, can I? So here are all the things I'm supposed to be doing while I'm on spring break from my teaching job. They've not been prioritized yet; I'm putting that off:
- Peel all the wallpaper off the dining room walls and prep them for painting.
- Deep clean my bedroom and closet
- Write a school newsletter for my class.
- Measure out space for a new garden in my yard.
- Rake last year's leaves in the dog's yard.
- Go on poo patrol in the dog's yard.
- Wash all the walls in the bathroom, including trim, then repaint all the trim.
- Wash all the windows inside and out.
- Start eating right.
- Catch up on some reading I'd like to do.
Going Green...or just slightly Green
After a long, snowy winter my husband and I have come to realize that we must do something about the ancient oil furnace that lurks below our creaky wood floors. We had already installed a "previously owned" 1970's-ish wood burning fireplace insert in our 1960's-ish brick fireplace that the former owners had constructed. We kept the thermostat at 65 (husband) to 68 (wife) degrees all winter to economize. My husband seemed to never get cold while I had to bundle up in all sorts of layers, slippers, and throws. Writing out the massive check when the heating oil bill came due was a major irritant which the wood stove insert helped alleviate, but not eliminate.
A couple of years ago we traveled to Taos, New Mexico and rented "The Hut" in an Earth ship Community for one week. Totally off the grid and miles from Taos, this dwelling gave us insight into "off the grid" living. While there we felt slightly Mad Max-ish!
Living here (between two hills with trees all around and highly variable sunshine during winter months) limits our alternative energy choices, but we are investigating the possibilities of heating our water through a passive solar energy system. Wind turbines are not practical for us due to the large costs of installation of this sort of system and the lack of sufficient wind down in our "yard between the hills." Sadly, our state offers no tax rebate for installation of alternative energy systems.
In our rural county many folks have outside wood boilers that heat their entire house plus furnish hot water. Since we have an unlimited supply of wood here on our acres we will probably go this route; hoping to get one that meets 2010 emission standards. A new high efficiency propane furnace for back-up heat will use less fossil fuel and is on our list of improvements as well!
I guess slightly greener is better than "no greener" at all, but part of me dreams of living off the grid.
A couple of years ago we traveled to Taos, New Mexico and rented "The Hut" in an Earth ship Community for one week. Totally off the grid and miles from Taos, this dwelling gave us insight into "off the grid" living. While there we felt slightly Mad Max-ish!
Living here (between two hills with trees all around and highly variable sunshine during winter months) limits our alternative energy choices, but we are investigating the possibilities of heating our water through a passive solar energy system. Wind turbines are not practical for us due to the large costs of installation of this sort of system and the lack of sufficient wind down in our "yard between the hills." Sadly, our state offers no tax rebate for installation of alternative energy systems.
In our rural county many folks have outside wood boilers that heat their entire house plus furnish hot water. Since we have an unlimited supply of wood here on our acres we will probably go this route; hoping to get one that meets 2010 emission standards. A new high efficiency propane furnace for back-up heat will use less fossil fuel and is on our list of improvements as well!
I guess slightly greener is better than "no greener" at all, but part of me dreams of living off the grid.
You're an Orphan...
Is it possible to become an orphan at 55 years of age? I suppose technically one can, but I thought it an odd comment for the hospice nurse to make as my sister and I were waiting for the funeral home to pick up our mother from her nursing facility room. "If you need help adjusting, remember hospice is here to help..." she continued as we sat beside our mother's frail shell.
My sister and I (plus another sister who couldn't be there at the end) thought we were ready for the eventual loss of our mother. After all, she'd been suffering a long decline due to vascular dementia after the death of our father. Always organized and independent she had hidden the symptoms well, but her disease eventually required full-time nursing care. Two years of constant visits while working full time, doing her laundry, bringing her foods to entice her to eat, and monitoring her care became a routine that filled our days. Plenty of time to prepare for the end, we thought.
But...those two years were a world apart from this. Mom had been "gone" for several days - totally non-responsive when we began our vigil. Holding her hand while she continued to struggle for breath after breath as her body slowly gave up was heart-wrenching.
When her final gasp was finished and her heart eventually stopped I looked at my sister's tear-filled eyes through mine. For a moment I felt like an orphan, but then it was time to wipe away the tears and deal with the reality just as mom had always done.
When we live long enough we all become orphans, I guess. Losing your parent is hard.
My sister and I (plus another sister who couldn't be there at the end) thought we were ready for the eventual loss of our mother. After all, she'd been suffering a long decline due to vascular dementia after the death of our father. Always organized and independent she had hidden the symptoms well, but her disease eventually required full-time nursing care. Two years of constant visits while working full time, doing her laundry, bringing her foods to entice her to eat, and monitoring her care became a routine that filled our days. Plenty of time to prepare for the end, we thought.
But...those two years were a world apart from this. Mom had been "gone" for several days - totally non-responsive when we began our vigil. Holding her hand while she continued to struggle for breath after breath as her body slowly gave up was heart-wrenching.
When her final gasp was finished and her heart eventually stopped I looked at my sister's tear-filled eyes through mine. For a moment I felt like an orphan, but then it was time to wipe away the tears and deal with the reality just as mom had always done.
When we live long enough we all become orphans, I guess. Losing your parent is hard.
Just Because
Just Because I've reached the age of my country road speed limit I've determined I need a place to reflect on life, share my opinions, questions, and other observations. I've made this simple spot to jot down random observations that bounce around in my head. So, here's my blog written "just because" I can!
You might ask "What about the title Seventeen Acres?" My husband and I live on 17 wooded acres filled with too many brambles, deer gangs, marauding squirrels, the occasional skunk (or possum or raccoon or woodchuck or coyote) and countless birds. Must not forget the occasional snapping turtle crossing our yard to get to the lake across the way or the green tree frogs who hang on the side of our house under the mercury vapor light during humid summer nights. Inside we share our our modest farmhouse (built in 1883) with 3 dogs and two cats and the occasional field mouse who's trying to stay warm during the frigid winter months.
Sometime remind me to tell you about the interesting luck we had with the century old barn a month after moving here one December during the heaviest snowfall in years. It was a sign of things to come...
You might ask "What about the title Seventeen Acres?" My husband and I live on 17 wooded acres filled with too many brambles, deer gangs, marauding squirrels, the occasional skunk (or possum or raccoon or woodchuck or coyote) and countless birds. Must not forget the occasional snapping turtle crossing our yard to get to the lake across the way or the green tree frogs who hang on the side of our house under the mercury vapor light during humid summer nights. Inside we share our our modest farmhouse (built in 1883) with 3 dogs and two cats and the occasional field mouse who's trying to stay warm during the frigid winter months.
Sometime remind me to tell you about the interesting luck we had with the century old barn a month after moving here one December during the heaviest snowfall in years. It was a sign of things to come...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
