A Rough Few Weeks-

Hi All;
I am just soooooo tired.
You know me. I get migraines, and have broken an untold # of vertebrae. Rarely do I get truly "sick". (Yeah well, so much for that record).  
I am not sure what kind of bug I have picked up, but it has been unrelenting this week... Fever- chills, 100 times over- and back again. I do believe that with all the barfing I have done my back will never ever feel better or heal properly.
About the only thing that stays down is the Zofran- (and that melts under my tongue for Gods sake).  When I asked for a refill on the Zofran, I told the gal at the dr.s office that if I felt no better by today I will be making an appointment to come in. I will sleep some more and see how I feel when/(if?) I wake.

Past myself... Casey's surgery is scheduled for the 19th. I swear to God that i would have her out her to take care of me, or even to help me out if she wasn't in so much pain herself. (She is also on antibiotics for infection).
Additionally, she is one Lantus once more- as her blood sugars have been soaring...

Besides wanting my mom back to take care of me for a few days, (yes, really), I received news of a childhood/teenage friend of ours (neighbor kids n me). Scott passed away on Wednesday, very unexpectedly.
Scott's a doctor- His wife found him on the couch, passed, apparently of a heart attack.

It is a godawful awakening that people I know and care for, (and my age) are dying unexpectedly.
It is just so wrong. And very sad too.
Hard to be adjusting, esp. given the fact that many of us, (me included), are just now accepting and still adjusting to the fact that we are the mom/dad generation, since our parents have gone and the generational torch has been handed to us.

The news, when Koreen had called on Wednesday afternoon- Odd though,  given the content of the phone call, it was still nice to hear her voice. I ran into her a while back at Wally World, introducing her to Brad (my grandson Isaiah's father). She lives quite near to Casey and Greg. I will make a note to stop one day if I do not see her on Saturday. (If I am up to going that is).

My sister Barbara wrote and will be up in Sault Ste Marie- Wish I could go and see her, but only in my dreams.

Another of my sisters has just been diagnosed with COPD.  She has never ever smoked!

Life is not fair.

My title above does not give this entry the justice it deserves.
This has been sheer hell all the way around.

Time for me now to lie down and try to sleep once more. I guess you could say I lied earlier, not that I meant to, but clearly my Zofran is NOT working.
 
Maybe later to call the doctor. This really is quite awful.

More importantly, please keep Casey and my sister in your thoughts...

XOXO
me

PS
Gritter~Baby!!!
Your deer called.
They would like you to come and get their apples when you can... While the pears are dimpled and weird this year, I told them there were lots of Macintosh, and they are very pleased and excited. hehehe
Love you guys!

Method to My Madness. (Maybe)?

Happy Saturday All;
Just a brief explanation before I try to go back to sleep...

I had said in yesterdays blog that I was afraid of taking the new meds prescribed to me by my doctor. (A few of you made me giggle at your own comments as to the solution to my refusal to take the drug)! hehehe


A year ago in March, Casey was in the hospital for yet another pancreatitis attack. At that point she had been on the oxycodone drugs- (1 long acting, and one type for her breakthrough pain).
It was during the course of that drug treatment that her heart rate had gone above 200 more than a few times.
It was during that hospitalization she had that seizure.
Caseys heart rate had remained above 100 for a long time.
"Medically insignificant" is what Dr. Hujuet at St Marys Hospital in Green Bay had called it. (CLICK for that story).

It was determined that the seizure, the tremors and other problems were caused by this drug.

This oxy crap is what my doctor has prescribed for me!
(Yes, he has my medical history).
But his line of thinking is that the other (hydrocodone, aka Vicoden) was not working for me.

• Know that I was hospitalized at 3+ years old.

I had fought the good fight to NOT come inside at supper time.  To deal with such a child, my dad, along with my foster brothers had begun chasing me- (we were all laughing and having a fun time with this)...

Long story short, I jumped off the front porch at one point, and cracked my head open.

At the hospital I was given an EEG, and it was determined that I was epileptic.
I took pills (dilantin and phenobarbital) for this until I was 18; and quit cold turkey when I got married, never having had any episodes before, during, or after. (Although Mama said I did, I do not remember).

BUT...

...IF this IS what caused Casey's seizures,
and IF I have just been "lucky" so far...
do I really want to take that chance?

It has always been my assertion that anyone who falls down and cracks their forehead open, requiring 7 stitches, would have an abnormal EEG.
Not being a doctor though I do not know.
Nor do I know why subsequent EEG's showed the need for continuing meds.

I look forward to your input...
Right now though I need to rest a bit-

XOXO
Me

Single~Parents; Anna's Family... (Can of worms)

 

Good Morning... 

As promised, here is that proverbial can of worms...

I am hoping that you have an opinion for (and OF) me when you finish reading this all.

In advance I need to apologize for being in such a foul mood. (But to counter that, I only need to think of my children and grandchildren; and the "family" that I have)...

Yes, this is wordy, but where my children have the propensity of being hurt, there are never enough words...

There is such a negative connotation that "parent~alone" cannot possibly raise decent, God~Loving, respectful, and responsible children...
(Falling back on the love I received from my own parents, I would still move heaven and earth to dispel that notion).

This is my family....

.

.

(Right from my living room wall)!

.

.

.

.

Some of you have asked plenty of questions of myself; others have not.
(Know that a few who don't bother to ask have been terribly wrong within their assumptions).

Please know that I would rather answer a question honestly, than to have anyone 'think' they might 'know' me; forego their questions, and be wrong enough to cause pain.

Now, (you know who you are)... Written in response to your ignorant rantings within my friends comments...

Forgive me ma'am, for knowing that you have only lashed out because of the ignorance of your own assumptions.
I shall try to correct that for you.
Strangely it occurs to me that I am also "assuming"... But where you could not have been further from the truth, I am thinking what I have to say might be a bit more accurate.

Oddly enough, I have my own questions too.

I have been fighting the inane and assinine attitudes toward single parenting since my eldest was 3 years old, and my then husband decided to leave for Germany with his betrothed to escape his child support responsibilities. I only state this to give you a bit of background; surely now it would fail to be important for any other reason.

Me now... more backgound...

I am, PROUDLY, a single mother.
My children have given me that pride; for I would not have it if not for their own love.

Both of my parents are deceased.

Having been adopted young, both of my "birthparents" are still alive and kicking; though not together.
(Hey, they were, er, 'together' for the most important day of my life; and that is all that matters). hehehe

I am thinking that there are plenty of single mothers out there who will care to share with me... their own experiences, their own thoughts and perhaps their own questions and answers.

Or perhaps you know a single parent family...

Or maybe you have a bit of both compassion and comprehension to offer.

I believe it was G.K. Chesterton that said one of the worst things you can do is misunderstand what someone has written. (along those lines anyway).

I hope you do not misread this; or not understand it as I mean it to be written.

**********

And now the 'inspiration' for my post here...

*I tried to stick up for a friend of mine who needs her sleep. That backfired when another person had responded, not knowing the 1st thing about me, and completely misunderstanding what I had said.
I had simply explained that when people are sick, to send everyone to bed with a Ziploc bag to put under their pillows so nobody has to be cleaning up vomit in the middle of the night. (Yes, I have done this nasty task more times than I care to remember, and have even tossed bedsheets because I had no more energy to deal with it all)...
I did not have to be there to watch my children barf...
Really I didn't; not after they had reached a certain age anyway.

This does NOT make me a bad mother. (Crap, did I forget to mention that my bedroom was attached directly to the bathroom)?

And yes, I have "been there," repeatedly, for my grown children as they have been taken seriously ill.

This blog began because my friends daughter (17 years old), had woken up in the middle of the night with a 24 hr. flu~bug of sorts.
Not having a land line in her bedroom, this gal had used her cell phone to call her mother, (asleep with her husband in the other bedroom), to tell her she was going to be sick.
I ('assumed' the family was well~off enough to have indoor plumbing.
That established, I further) stated I would lay good money betting on the fact that if this girl had time to make the phone call, and then wait for the connection, then wait even longer for her mother to answer, and then through a conversation, (no matter how short), that she had MORE than enough time to get her backside to the toilet. (It was just a guess).

Instead, she woke her mother, asking her bring a wastebasket to her room. (It just seemed a little selfish, silly and disrespectful to me).
I was told that the hubby would probably agree with me 100%, but that my friend did not.

**********

I have to share a few 'Q & A' of my own...

How hard is it to be a single mother?
(This is usually the greatest question of all)..

• It is neither hard nor easy.

You do what you have to do; your family lives through it with plenty of prayer, humor, hormones and life.
Because I have known no other way to raise children, I would have nothing to compare it to. -With the exception of how I was raised by two parents.

I tried to incorporate what my parents taught me. ie: how I was raised.
My parents, the while they lived, helped me all they could; and so did my wonderful babysitter "Little Lisa" who practically lived with me to help me out at times.

My parents were born in 1912 and 1916...
To say I was raised "old school" would be very accurate.

Was I ever beaten/abused by my parents?
Absolutely not.
Hindsight (and maturity) have brought a bit of wisdom; I did deserve every punishment I ever got from them. Whether I was backhanded, spanked, cussed out, grounded, slapped or kicked in the butt, I received only what was coming to me.
(More, to this day, I have YET to hear better sermons)!

And so I was, and remain, motivated to keep trying to be a decent human being.

We were completely cherished and loved, but we were NOT ever molly~coddled.

When we fell down, we were told simply to "get up".
Picking ourselves up, no matter how bloody our knees or elbows or faces were, taught us to stand on our own two feet.

When were were sick, we either saw a doctor for an RX, or we got better on our own.
Honestly, I cannot recall even once expecting my mother or father to watch me throw up. (Nor did they ever offer to)!hehehe

My children got spanked when they were little. (Some a few times more than others).

Yet they have grown into self~sufficient, and capable adults.

Does that mean that they do not "need" me now?
Absolutely not. (I would like to think that sharing my own experiences with them on an adult level would account for much).

I believe that my parents taught me a deep and abiding respect for them. And yes, maybe I didn't always respect them as I should have; but you can bet your bottom dollar that I knew the consequences of my actions.
(And I firmly believe to this day this is the only place where the elements of "respect" and "responsibility" are learned).

Much like science, every action has an equal and opposite reaction.
This applies to parenting as well.

"Good" parenting anyway. (And no, I did not "beat" my children).  Truth be told, 99.99% of the time, a simple "LOOK" from me worked just fine. hehehe

I have been known to make a mountain out of a molehill.
That is just the way I am...
(Perhaps this is one of those times, but my heart tells me otherwise).

Having had my daughters each go on their 1st dates/proms/dinners, I could imagine every possible scenario of any bad/good situation.
I raised them to KNOW how to deal with those same scenarios too.

Was I tough? I was.
I had to be; simply because I was the Mom and the Dad too.
They never heard 'just wait til your father gets home' because after the divorce, he chose not to be involved in their lives.
I never had the luxury of passing the buck on to someone else. (I would not have done so anyway).

I was their confidante, and I was their "heavy" too.
I never backed down from a challenge, whether that challenge came from my children or their friends, or the neighbors kids, or the neighbors themselves. 

We had one telephone line, and one toilet. They learned patience, practicality and perseverance early on. (Hopefully, they still "knock" too).

We are a team.
We are 'family.'

They all 'worked' too.

• They knew how to vacuum, and to sort and DO laundry.
• They knew how to start the weedwacker and the lawnmowers.
• They knew how to shovel snow (and sometimes even had fun doing it).
• They were responsible enough to care for the dog and the cat.
• They knew what were weeds and what was a keeper in our gardens.
• When they were younger, they were each given an alarm clock for the Christmas or birthday before they went to kindergarten.
• They all knew how to read by the time they got to kindergarten, and yes, they all knew how to use their alarm clocks to make the very best use of their time in the bathroom.
• They each ate a hot breakfast before they got on the bus.
• They all knew how to cook that same breakfast by the time they were 7 or 8. (My oldest knew how to cook that breakfast before she was old enough to even go to school).

Did they know how to take care of themselves?
You bet they did; (and they still DO)!

As they grew, I always had my old medical reference books nearby, and any questions were then discussed, if/when they had any.
From a very young age, they ALL read these books many times over. A little knowledge goes a long way.

As a single parent, I was always aware of how short life can be cut for some; and it was with that fear, that I raised my kids. (Losing my step~daughter has only reinforced what I already knew about life being short, and leaving small children behind).

What would have happened to my children had I died?
Would they have been intelligent enough, kind enough, capable enough, and smart enough to carry on? I wanted to make sure that they were. (Know please, I am not "dissing" those of you with a spouse; I am only relating MY life).

As a single parent with no other parent around, these are the questions that I needed to know the answers to should that have ever happened...

So was I strict?
Probably more~so than most other parents; single or otherwise.

With respect to my childrens hard work, successes, kindnesses and intelligence, we have raised each other "right" ...(Thank you kids)!

Having been both mother and father; yes, I still cherish every single one of those Fathers Day cards that I have received over the years too!  hehehe

• Have I made mistakes?  Of course I have!

I am only human.
But as we grow, we realize that the mistakes we make are our own learning experiences as well.

• Have my children screwed up? Of course they have!
  Do I love them any less for that? Of course not! (And yes, a note to the faithful, I know my own progeny hold no animosity toward my own screw~ups either).

In closing. I would like to point out that I received these words from an uninvolved 3rd party in response to how I handled my own barfy children...
(And I quote):

"I’m a Mom and I believe Mom’s are there to care for (your) kids.

That is the problem with the world today…

I think some just shove off the kids letting them be little adults.

Care for themselves… nope.
So then we have a bunch of detached non-caring, no emotions types walking around."

********** end quote

I cannot begin to tell you what an UGLY statement that is to me, and how very deeply it has affected me these past couple of days. *** Should my four daughters read these words, they will be hurt; and highly offended as well...

I just don't think that "detached" or "non~caring" and "no emotion" are adjectives that could possibly be used to describe my children...

I am wondering what everyone else thinks; and would welcome your input on this all.

Could this woman/mother possibly be right in her thinking about how to care for children?

I know I am not the very best mother around.
I know that there are many that are much better. (Sadly we all know of worse ones too). But I didn't think I was all that bad.

• There is a proper time for pampering, and a proper time for allowing the child to care for themselves.

Without learning to care for themselves, what a rude awakening we would leave our children with as they go off to college, to live elsewhere etc etc etc ...
What will they fall back on if their parents die?

Yes. I am their mother/father.
I love each of my children "something awful"
(But no, I am still not gonna watch them puke). Methinks there are much greater, and more important, ways to be needed anyway.

But that's just me.

Please let me know what YOU think just so I can put this one away.

Have a great weekend. (I am going to try to go back to bed for a while)...

XOXO
Anne

Free Site Counters

PS
* If there are young men around, please know that your mother is not doing you any favors by coddling you if you have already reached puberty.
I also know for a fact that there are at least 4 young ladies in this world that will have nothing to do with a Little Mama's Boy who cannot even make his own bed, clean his own laundry, or cook his own sensible dinner.

• At best, that is an archaic way of thinking.
• At worst? Hmm... (nope, NOT going there)...

***************

Some of you may remember reading this at an earlier date.
It is a repost, but having read a comment elsewhere that gave NO respect to the work that a single parent is responsible for, I thought to repost it.
As you can see by the counter, almost 1400 people have read it already.
Sorry too that my most precious comments TO this blog did not transfer from my 360

XOXO
Me

Dr. Daniel W. Shea, MD, (Obituary)

Rating:	★★★★★
Category:	Other

I know this is probably only newsworthy for us in the Green Bay area, but I wanted to have it on my page.

They don't make doctors like this anymore...

I was so saddened to read this on the paper.
He was my doctor years and years ago- Before I had kids.

After they came along he was their doctor too!

He left The Beaumont for position as President of The American Academy of Pediatrics when Casey was about 3.

A wonderful doctor! A huge loss to us all...

How do you remember your own pediatrician?

XOXO
Me

************************************

Shea, Daniel W.


Daniel W. Shea, son of Edward C. and Corinne W. Shea, passed away Thursday, April 2, 2009. He was born on April 27, 1928, in Buffalo, N.Y. Dr. Dan was a graduate of the University of Notre Dame (BS 1948), St. Louis University School of Medicine (MD 1951) and University of Minnesota (MS Pediatrics 1957). He also served as a flight surgeon in the USAF (1952 to 1954).

Following a fellowship at the Mayo Clinic, Dr. Shea practiced Pediatrics and Adolescent Medicine in Green Bay for 33 years. He was a founder of the Beaumont Clinic. His advocacy for children's health in the community included active board membership of the Green Bay Day Nursery (Encompass), Curative Workshop (NEW Curative Rehabilitation, Inc.), Community Service Center, and Our Lady of Charity Campus (Libertas).

Daniel's continuous participation and leadership in the American Academy of Pediatrics, dedication to children and those who care for them resulted in his nomination and election to the office of president of the Academy. He served in 1991 to 1992. This honor extended to 2007 when he received the Clifford G. Grulee Award which "recognizes outstanding service to the Academy beyond that required of the elected leadership".

Dan is survived by his wife of 57 years, Ann; children, Daniel (Elyse), Patrick, Michael, Mary, Margaret (Jeff) Harding, and Kevin (Cathy); brother, Donald; grandchildren, Eben, Jacob, Samuel, Anzia, Kaysa Shea, Kinsley Makielski, Eric and Callyn Harding, Sarah, Katie and Liam Shea; great- grandchildren, Saul and Willow Shea.

He was preceded in death by daughter, Kathleen Johns and infant daughter, Sarah Ann; brother, Edward, and sister, Elizabeth.

"Doctor Dan" was a favorite of children and parents alike. He will be remembered for many years.

Friends may call on Tuesday, April 7, at St. Mary Catholic Community, just off Sportsman's Drive in Ledgeview from 9 to 11 a.m. Mass of Christian Burial 11 a.m. at the church. Burial in Allouez Catholic Cemetery. Online condolences may be sent to the Shea family at www.prokowall.com.

In lieu of flowers, a memorial fund has been established. Donations will be forwarded to Encompass or Unity Hospice.

From here... http://www.greenbaypressgazette.com/article/20090403/GPG010301/904030580/1212

What a wonderful man!!!!



Now how about your own?

Mar 14 '09 -Kissing Pigs ~How Did YOU Grow Up?

 

"The Full Worm Moon", with clouds.
Picture taken 3-13-09

In this month the ground softens and the earthworm casts reappear,
inviting the return of the robins.

The Northern Tribes knew this as the Full Crow Moon,
when the cawing of crows signals the end of winter.

Or the Full Crust Moon
because the snow cover becomes crusted from thawing by day and freezing at night.

The Full Sap Moon, marking the time of tapping maple trees, is another variation.

Info from here.

.
.
Good Saturday Morning!
As you know, Casey was back to the hospital on Thursday night. (Technically Friday morning).
She is OK, no better, but no worse for the wear.
We will be keeping our appointment in Minnesota as well.
We lost a whole night of sleep- (Methinks I made up for this last night- getting almost a record setting 9 hours)

Casey's colon is shutting down, probably has been for a year or two.

But this is fixable.
We will know how to fix it come Monday.

I received the following in my email a few days ago. While it is not new to any of us that have been online for more than a month, I thought that maybe it should rightfully be shared with everyone anyway.
Taking my cue from the last line, I believe it would make some wonderful dinnertime/classroom talk for the kids too.

FOR ALL US "KidS" WHO SURVIVED
(the 1930's, 40's, 50's, 60's and 70's).

• First, we survived being born to mothers who smoked and/or drank while they were pregnant.
• They took aspirin, ate bleu cheese dressing, tuna from a can, and didn't get tested for diabetes.
• Then, after those traumas, we were put to sleep on our tummies in baby cribs covered with bright colored lead-based paints.
• We had no child proof lids on medicine bottles, doors or cabinets. Our parents actually took the time to teach us not to mess with things. When we were little, they actually even kept an eye on us.
• Daycare was what Mom did. Or Grandma and Grandpa.
• Dad went to work and made a life for us. We did not keep up with "The Joneses", but we were always happy, loved, warm, and fed.
  
• As infants and children we would ride in cars with no car seats, booster seats, seat belts or air bags. And our cars were even made strong with American steel.
  
• When we rode our bikes, we had no helmets, elbow pads or knee guards. Like everyone else, we "wiped out". But we got back up and dusted ourselves off without running home to Mama.
• Not everyone passed the 2nd grade. We dealt with it, knowing that some kids just didn't get it the first time around.
  
• Some kids even skipped a grade. We dealt with that too, knowing that other kids were very very smart.
  
• We lived dangerously sometimes; not to mention, the risks we took hitchhiking.
• Riding in the back of a pickup on a warm day was always a special treat.
• We drank water from the garden hose and NOT from a bottle.
• We shared one soft drink with four friends, from one bottle and NO ONE actually died from this.
• We ate cupcakes, white bread and real butter and drank Kool-aid made with sugar, but we weren't overweight because, WE WERE ALWAYS OUTSIDE PLAYING!
• We even got spanked, or got our butts kicked! We lived to tell about it, and to move on from there having learned a bit more respect for our parents, (and for our butts).
• We didn't know dys-fun-ctional. And if we had, we would have just zeroed in on the "fun" in that word.
  
• We would leave home in the morning and play all day; as long as we were back in time for supper, or when the streetlights came on.
• Due to the diligence of our own parents (and others as well), we knew almost instinctively what we could do, and what would catch us hell when we got home. We usually chose to protect our butts, rather than suffer the wrath of our parents. They actually meant what they said.
• As did our teachers. If we got spanked at school, the principal called our parents, and we would "get it" even worse when we got home.
  
• When we went out to play, no one was able to reach us all day. And we were OK.
• We would spend hours building our go-carts out of scraps and then ride down the hill, only to find out we forgot the brakes After running into the bushes a few times, we learned to solve the problem.
• We did not have Playstations, Nintendo's, X-boxes, no video games at all, no 150 channels on cable, no video movies or DVD's, no surround-sound or CD's, no cell phones, no personal computers, no Internet or chatrooms. And yet, our lives were full.
  
• WE HAD REAL FRIENDS. We just went outside and found them!
• We got dirty, and had a great time anyway.
• We wore hand me down clothes, and no one ever made fun of us. If they did we made the best of it anyway.
  
• If we cussed, we did so in private because we didn't like the taste of soap. (But no one ever died from soap).
  
• We fell out of trees, got cut, broke bones, and even lost a few teeth. There were no lawsuits from these accidents.
• We ate worms and mud pies made from dirt. The worms did not live in us forever.
• On a related note, some of us even swallowed live goldfish. We lived through it, but the goldfish didn't.
  
• We were given BB guns for our 6th birthdays.
• We had to mow the lawns, shovel the snow, do the dishes, and take out the garbage. If we complained, we had to do this for a month.
  
• If we argued among ourselves, the best remedy was to 'finish what we started'. (The other guy always looked worse). But we were still good friends the next day.
  
• We made up games with sticks and tennis balls (and although we were told it would happen, we did not poke out very many eyes).
• We rode bikes, -or (gasp) even "walked" to a friend's house. We knocked on the door, rang the bell, or just walked in and talked to them!
• Little League had tryouts and not everyone made the team. Those who didn't had to learn to deal with disappointment. Imagine that!
• The idea of a parent bailing us out if we broke the law was unheard of. They actually sided with the law!
• We had freedom, failure, success, and responsibility, and we learned HOW TO DEAL WITH IT ALL!

These generations have produced some of the best risk-takers, problem solvers and inventors ever!
The past 50 years have been an explosion of innovation and new ideas.
You might want to show this to others who have had the luck to grow up as REAL KIDS, before lawyers regulated much of our lives "for our own good."
While you are at it, make sure to discuss it with your kids so they will know how brave (and lucky) their parents were.

Oh yes, this could make for some very lively supper table discussions. Hope you all will have the "fun" in doing so.

As for me, and my Saturday it doesn't take a rocket scientist to know that I have a world of catching up to do with your own blogs.
(Sadly, a blind person could see how messy my house is).
Life goes on!
Casey just brought this one to my attention... Worth a listen for us all.

Lyrics | White Stripes lyrics - Effect And Cause lyrics


Have a 'wunnaful' weekend!

Again I ask, how did YOU grow up?

A better question...

How are we allowing our own children to grow up?

XOXO
Anne

free hit counters

Posted to my Y! 360, Saturday March 14, 2009 - 07:59am (CDT)

10 Little Thoughts

Stolen from here.

 

Good Evening Everyone;
I am late today-
Later still at getting to your own blogs.
My apologies for that, please don't drop me... yet.

Since it is Tuesday (still), I shall share ten thoughts with you.

1. We got a bit of rain today. (Say "YAY").  But not even enough to remove the two splattered bug guts from my windshield.

2. You don't find me tooling around for no reason.
The reason I was on the road was for a doctor appointment. I have an ear infection. This sucks. I thought 'kids' got ear infections, and that I should have long ago outgrown such a thing. (Mama would put some blue bottle of hot ear drops in my ears; then make me swallow a penicillin pill as she shoved cotton batting in my ears to keep the breezes out).

3. Ear infections are NO fun at all. (Nor is having drops in my ear, corked off with a cotton ball). SO reminiscent of my childhood days. (Tipping my head from side to side, or front to back, makes the oddest sounds. From within).

4. A different doctor today. She came in, asked if I was Anne, and asked what the problem was. Not a handshake or even a milkshake. (She looked in my ear, wrote the script and I was out of there in less than 2 minutes).

5. The pharmacy wait took much longer.
MUCH MUCH longer. And all for this itsy bitsy, teeny weeny bottle of drops. (Drops that when put in the ear sound much like a grenade going off at close range, or a 30-0-06)...

6. My sinuses and head and ear make me feel as though someone stuck a balloon in my ear, and then inflated it. I hear things from the inside. (Enough to psych me out as I listen to my heartbeat from the inside). Weird.

7. Punk is all better- Having had her to the vet on Friday, she has finally began to be a pain in the butt again. (I rather like her like this).

8. When the vet says he doesn't need a stool sample, remember to remove it from the car. Do not let it remain there- (After 4 days, it stinks up the whole car, no matter HOW plugged up ones nose is).

9. The loss of hearing made me miss the dryer as it shut off. I went in wrinkled clothes. (Gratefully my jeans are tight now that I gained 3 pounds. The fat gives the appearance of smooth anyway).

10. The loss of hearing also left me listening to the CD in my car as if it was only on AM radio. This AM radio effect also took me back to my younger days.
It was Delbert McClinton, "Room to Breathe"-

The above album title has, belatedly, struck me as downright hilarious.
Kinda like our old AM radios were...


Love to all. Please bring soup.

XOXO
Anne

 

Originally posted to my Y! 360, Tuesday September 30, 2008 - 10:56pm (CDT)

Lazy Me. ~Corncribs and Rats...

Lazy Me. ~Corncribs and Rats...

This teeny tiny pizzaburger at Planeview Restaurant in Oshkosh was almost $7.00-
An extra .49 for the fried onions I'd asked for too...
And I think it is still sitting hard in my tummy...

Good Afternoon All;
My apologies for being near to invisible lately. Between the computer (and its dragbutt persona), and my silly inability to find a comfortable position; it is proving a bit hard to stay focused.

How about that earthquake? The New Madrid Fault is generally so inactive for so long that we have a tendency to forget that it is even there.
Did I feel it?
No.
But I do believe that this is what woke my dogs.
Punk, asleep on the couch, awoke with a start ...and began to growl.
A few seconds later, I heard Mama Milly bark a bit too.
Quickly then, Punkin found herself comfortably insinuated down by my feet. Snuggled down for the count.
I figured there might have been a thunderstorm somewhere; not giving it another thought, until the news came across my homepage.
I am happy that we were nowhere south of here when it happened.

A picture of Casey and Punk when we arrived in Milwaukee...
.

.

Both are pretty much tuckered out...

.

.

On the way down...

to have traffic come to a standstill near the Slinger exit

.

.

A straight truck flipped, twisted...

.

.

The front end almost nonexistent anymore.
There were probably about 10 firetrucks too.

.

.

I tried to watch the Milwaukee news then on Tuesday night. But saw nothing on there about it.
The photos do not do it justice either. I would be amazed to hear that the driver lived through it too. Miracles do happen everyday though.
It was windy... Perhaps he was caught in those high winds.
Perhaps he was cut off.
Whatever the reason, I am thinking that there is one person who went to work that morning that didn't make it home at night.
The kind of accident you come upon that makes you say a prayer for the family too.

Uncomfortable as it was to drive with my back, I saw a scene that reminded me of "home" too.
As most of you know, I bought the homeplace from Mama's estate when she passed. And even though it is my home now, back then it took on a different feel of "home".

.

.

Two old corncribs...

The one on the right the oldest- wood.

The one on the left, metal, concrete base, with aerating, drying core....

.

.

Back when, we had both types of corn cribs too. Just not at the same time.
We also had a part collie, part golden, and mostly lover of a dog, name of Teddy.
(Actually his full name was Theodore Scotland Octavian Murphy)...
Teddy was our protector.
Teddy was our herder.
Teddy was even kind to the cats too.
All that, and he didn't chase cars or dig up mama's flowers either!
We had gotten him from the pound. ... $5.00 in those days.

Back to the corn crib(s)...

One year Pa had taken down the wooden bracketed corn crib.
Not being able to burn it as it stood, (too close to the old garage), it had to be moved before being torched.
In order to move it, he had simply attached it by chain to the old Oliver tractor we had, and let the clutch out. The rickety old crib groaned a bit and left its concrete block base.
Pulling it off its base, there were literally 100's of displaced rats!
They ran everywhere! Mostly towards the woods, and their water supply in the river...

Teddy thought his job for the day was to catch every one of these monsters.
Overwhelmed at first, he began to grab them.
The first few, ("beginners luck" I believe), he simply caught in his teeth, crunched their backs and dropped.
About the third one he bit wrong, grabbing it by its rear end. This rat turned on him, swiftly removing a chunk of his nose. Until the day he died, Teddy was missing this aspirin~sized piece of his nose.
After that single yelp~and~release, he grabbed those vermin by their heads. A few swift tosses of his neck, then to drop them and let them die where they fell. This scene went on and on as those rats made tracks straight back to the woods... (Not a short race when your legs are so short)!
...But a scene that I haven't forgotten either.

About a week later, our new corncrib had arrived. Daddy had already poured the cement foundation. Pa, Bob Hamilton, and Pepper Martin put it up.
By using the front end bucket on the old WD Allis Chalmers (and the grain elevator) for height, slowly but surely we had our new corn crib. It was the last one we ever had too. Daddy retired while I was a junior in high school.

So enough of memory lane for today.

I have a bezillion and 40 things that need to be done. (And with my fractured back these things are NOT getting done any time soon either).

BethieBaby sent me a quote from Erma Bombeck this morning. I believe I shall have to LIVE by this creed for now:

" My theory on housework is, if the item doesn't multiply, smell, catch fire, or block the refrigerator door, let it be. No one else cares. Why should you? "

Great thought right?
(Rest in peace Sweet Erma... You are still very much missed)!

And with that, I believe it is high time for me to get in the shower and try to find something that is easy(er) on my back than sitting, or standing, or laying down, or breathing...

Love to all!

XOXO,
Anne

Free Web Counter

 

Originally posted to my Y!360, Friday April 18, 2008 - 01:11pm (CDT) 3

Garbage Day; And Other Stuff!

 

 

Good Morning All;

First things first.
Having had Miss Thers come through her surgery yesterday with great relief from her pain, is such a good thing.
Please >CLICK HERE< to wish her a speedy recovery.

And now ~about the topmost picture...

As I rolled the dumpster to the end of the driveway early this morning, I had to chuckle to myself. Dressed in my silk pajamas, tennis shoes, and a jacket, I suddenly knew how Mom felt when she had to take the little bucket to the outhouse each morning. No matter how she varied her schedule, someone always seemed to drive by and see her making her way to the outhouse.

This, back when our road was NOT a county road, nor was there blacktop on it either.

This, back when a body "knew" every car that went by.

I used to laugh at her embarassment at getting caught.
After all, wasn't she doing exactly what every other family had to do every morning???
Or was her slop 'special' somehow?

I never did get those answers.
But I do know that this is one of the reasons all those trees were planted across the front of the property. She called them a "windbreak", (and they are excellent at being defined as such), but they were also meant to be grand at hiding her little walk to the outhouse every morning.
...That is, if Pa hadn't put in an indoor bathroom before those trees offered any protection. hehehe

And so, many times prior to the upscale (mid~1950's), indoor plumbing we had, Mama would get caught with her little pail...

.

I actually DO have her original pail in the basement.
This picture stolen from here though....

.

.

.

Like the photo above, ours was also a 2~Seater.

And I am thinking that in those days there was much less of the 'Gee, I can't pee if you are within earshot'... Or, 'I can't use public restrooms'
(Or any other of those excuses that we hear so often today).
hehehe
I am also thinking that the only thing missing from this picture is the Sears and Roebuck catalog!!!

That same 2~Seater was exactly what the Northeastern Wisconsin Beagle Club was looking for when they came one day and made an offer to buy the old outhouse from my dad. Not too far away, the Northeast Kennel Club wanted a 'double' (just in case)...

Pa agreed to sell our outhouse. (I think Mama was happiest to see it go)!

I can actually remember sneaking in there when I was either too lazy, or too dirty, to "go" inside! We had to take off our shoes/boots (whatever) whenever we went inside. (Pa didn't have to though... just us kids)...

Wheeling my little dumpster down the gravel driveway this morning, and making enough noise to wake the dead, I had this odd feeling of being watched.
That feeling made me think of Mama and her little pot... I set the dumpster as close to the road as possible, saw headlights, and hid in the trees until it was 'safe' to gather yesterdays mail. I made the mad dash across the road when there were no vehicles coming from either direction.
Since it was still very dark, east there is a big curve, and west is Ryans Hill, I can easily see when/if there is anyone coming to catch me in my jammies.
...Then a "mad~dash" back up the driveway to the safety and warmth of the house...
(OK, so it is still a bit of a gimpy run, but it is getting much better).

And I wonder why I had felt so paranoid this morning?
Still do...

No frost this morning... It is 42 degrees but not to stay that 'warm' for long.

Casey and I did some major cleaning yesterday of the shed and garages to accomodate all the things that must be brought in for winter. Even my bike is stored for now. Ah well... My godmother stopped in for a while too. So good to see her! (And what a nice little break from our chores as well)... Always fun to get 'caught up' on each others children and grandchildren!

Winter is inevitable.

Quite like death and taxes... hehehe

Have a WUNNAFUL Wednesday!!!!

Love to all!

XOXO
Anne

.

Free Hit Counters

Tags:

Our LEAD Troublemaker!

A bit more nostalgia...

.

Good Morning All;

Mother Natures Aprils Fools joke on us, (around these parts anyway), coming just a wee bit late this year...

.

.

I am not even too sure if Punkie sees the humor in it!

.

.

.

.

.

Is there a Ghost of Easters Past?

Because if there is, here we go...

We did not heat our basement; the only heat down there provided by the old wood/coal furnace we had... (and it gave off plenty as it chugged to life)...

But the basement was our cellar- kind of a cool place to store everything... Including our veggies, canned goods, and eggs. The older refrigerators we quite small on the inside, and so many things were simply kept out. Sounds horrendous in this day and age, but everything we had was fresh. Salmonella was quite unheard of, poultry laid fresh eggs, and as long as those eggs were gathered every morning they were fresh as could be! Being one of the few farms back then that produced "Grade A" Milk, we could have no chickens. (Separate barns would have been required for any other farm animal, save the cows). We received all of our eggs from neighbors and family close~by.

One year... I had to be 6 or 7 maybe, Mom had gotten all the preparations ready to color eggs. Of course we had to boil those eggs first... Mama had sent me down to the basement to get the eggs.

There were probably about 6 dozen then that we would use... I got them down off the shelf, and began to come back upstairs, when I tripped on the basement steps.

AND ON THE WAY UP !!!

There were eggs all over!

My life was OVER!

I was not only bruised, but cut a bit, AND terrified of even calling out FOR 'HELP'...

...So I did what any normal kid would do.

I began to cry.

Loudly, AND PROBABLY QUITE OBNOXIOUSLY TOO.

And of course Mom had to come see what the devil had made me cry.

(And ever so LOUDLY too)...

I remember the horrified look on her face as she rounded that corner... The sharp intake of breath just before she simply told me to "get up".

I heard her sigh. (And I remember the swat on my backside as I walked by her after she told me to get cleaned up).

By the time I was cleaned up, she had salvaged a LOT of those eggs.

And that 'trip' wasn't nearly as bad as what I had originally thought it to be...

We had probably about 4 dozen (give or take), left to color. But I think I probably ruined that day for everyone too.

I don't remember the Easter... Just that trip and fall...

.

.

Fast forward a few years...

...to me~n~my girls...

Times were lean, and I usually got "hand~me~overs" from relatives and such for clothes for the girls. My aunts were wonderful about this, and mom would always pick up a few things when she would go to Goodwill or St. Vinnies too.

But one year, I wanted something more special...

I didn't have the money to go to the fabric store, but I sure had leftover fabric. And got busy making the girls their "new" easter outfits. Oh they weren't too "easter~ish", (unless red is now an easter color). But they sure had something new to wear. I used one of their shirts, and a pair of their pants for the pattern... And this is how they turned out!

.

.

My little Jennifer Hope and Zoe Catherine in their "new" clothes...

Silly maybe, but 'cute' too!

(Of course, I was kind of biased)!

.

.

.

Now to fast forward once more...

.

.

And yes, this was our chief cook and bottle washer...

.

.

.

.

But what you might NOT know is that she was also our lead troublemaker!

.

.

.

Casey was about 6 years old; and for the Grace of God still believed in that same flop~earred rabbit that would come and hide eggs every Easter morning.

We were living on Jaworski Road... The phone rang that Holy Saturday afternoon. I answered it, and could barely make out my own mothers voice over her laughter... But she had asked was Casey home? Um yeah... So I put Casey on...

...I am right there, as I hear Casey say "Hi Grandma!" (in that excited and happy tone that beloved grandbabies always use)... ~I hear Casey say "What?!?!?!" ~And I watch her face turn a bit sour. ~A few seconds later she is almost crying... They talk a few more minutes and when I hear Casey say, "I love you too Grandma!" I know the conversation is over. She hands the phone back to me...

"Hello?" ... "HELLO?" ... "Mom?" ...Nothing. ...She had hung up.

And there was Casey standing by me as I hung up my phone too.

I asked her what was wrong? She said, "Grandma says the Easter Bunny is dead!"

A bit shocked, I giggle. (Bad choice of reactions)...

And so I ask...

She says, "Grandma went to go get her mail, and there he was, DEAD, in the middle of the road!"

I tried to quash that little voice in my head that had promptly begun singing the 'dead skunk' song)... ~crossin' the highway late last night, he shoulda looked left, and he shoulda looked right...

Then she said "Grandma is getting her shovel right now, and is gonna "BURY IT!"

...(hiccup~hiccup~hiccup)...

God help me, Mom...

I explained to Casey that Grandma was mistaken... (She sure left me holding the bag on this one when she'd hung up)...

I told Casey that it was only one of his helpers because the Easter Bunny is magic and would never just die in the middle of the road...

Troublemaker? Mama? ...(I rest my case).

Casey~Face was very hesitant to believe me... (Grandmas words are always more believable)...

That night then... to have Casey put flour down on the floor so she could see his footprints if he did come...

Smart kid~ ...(too smart)...

Waking the next morning to see his footprints there on the kitchen floor was more than enough validation for this precocious child of mine...

...And she happily went in search of the eggs he had hidden.

I didn't count those eggs that year...

hehehe

Have a splendid Saturday! I must go shovel snow...

XOXO
Anne

Nostalgic Easter...

Good Friday Morning...

On this very sacred day, I am not going to post about the Cross. Rather to share a few special memories of my own from Easters past...

Yes, as children we went to every Easter Service. This included everything from Ash Wednesday onward. Each week we would go after chores and milking was done to The~Stations~of~The~Cross masses. There were even special masses for Easter Monday at that point in time. And the term "Holy Day of Observation" meant we would go. We were raised very Christian, and quite Catholic.

That said, we were also raised to believe that some flop~eared rabbit brought us treats and hid many colored eggs too. (Even though we bought, cooked, and colored those same eggs for him)! He would come during the night, as we slept... We could always even see his paw~prints from his visit outside. But when we woke on Easter Morning we couldn't look for the eggs either. ("Mean", huh)? We were to get dressed and get out to the barn and get our chores done first. I am sure that Mary ALWAYS must have peeked... though as for me, (remember, the younger "angelic" child), would never have done such a thing! hehehe

When we were finished with our chores, (bathed and clean~smelling once again), we could then look for those eggs... And such a whirlwind this house had never seen before! Mama would sit and wait for us to bring them to her, and she would count each and every one. (There was always at least ONE that was very hard to find)... Sometimes, we would then 'hide' the eggs for Mom and Dad; sometimes we would do so for each other; depending upon how much time we had until mass at 10:00. (This was in the days before one could actually go to mass on Saturday and have it 'count' as a Sunday mass).

One year, "yours truly" had 'hid' an egg in Pa's suitcoat. Which of course he 'claimed' to have "found" during the gospel, and just had to chuckle out loud... risking a sharp poke in the ribs... (How come HE never did get poked, unless he was snoring)? After mass, we would come home, and change into more comfortable clothing; (to ruin your "Sunday Best" was just about the 11th Commandment). Mom would always start dinner then.

Hmmm... These were also the days that people ate 'breakfast', 'dinner', and 'supper'. ("Lunch" was something kids had to bring to school if their parents could not afford hot lunch).

For all of the 'special' holidays, dad would buy some Fresh Polish Sausage. Polska Keilbasa. (NOTE: This is NOT the kind you buy pre~packaged and pre~cooked in a Klements wrapper). It was always homemade from Blazeis Meat store. (Years earlier, Pa had done the butchering for John and Carl Blazei; so he knew this was the only place to go for his favorite meats).

I do not recall anything more of that Easter... save for the following weeks the weather must have warmed sufficiently to be able to go to church in short sleeves. But I do remember one Sunday following... There was an uproar upstairs as Dad was getting dressed for mass. Seems as though SOMEONE had forgotten all about that lone Easter egg that had stayed hidden in his coat pocket... Their closet was where they stored everything valuable, and so it didn't get opened on a regular basis...

So how come Moms old saying about birthdays did not apply then? (She always had said it was STILL our birthday as long as there was birthday 'cake' left). So wasn't it still Easter? And how come Dad didn't have to go to church that morning? He owned ONE suit, kids... and when it smelled like rotten eggs, (farmer or not, even dad wasn't going anywhere in it)! Hey, at least it wasn't a MOW~ISS! Click on purple "mowiss" there if you don't yet know that story...hehehe

I have since cut up that old suit and used the squares for in the quilts I made for Mary and myself... No it does not stink anymore- Mama actually made it right, somehow, by the following week...

That closet got painted that Spring; (and if I were to venture a guess, it was the last time it was painted too). hehehe

I hope you all have some grand plans for this Easter Weekend!

XOXO
Anne

PS You will note that my blast will be changing from time to time... Different quotes I have found, saved by Mama in her little books... She always wrote everything down; and I actually think I could post a new blast EVERY day for a few years, and NOT run out of things she copied down...

Counter