Iris and Celebration Time

The young dogwood tree in the front yard is through blooming.  The rosy azaleas by the front walk have been gorgeous for over a week, but I doubt if they last too much longer.  The two bouquets that I picked from their branches have graced the living and dining rooms for a week, and they needed to be replaced today.  Then the front doorbell rang, and a young delivery manI was handed me a stunning bouquet from Jeannie and the Eilers up in Freeport.   I stop and enjoy the new bouquet on the dining room table every time I walk by.  As usual Country Creations had outdone themselves with this beautiful arrangement. Mother’s Day is just one of the many spring time celebrations going on across the nation.

I think most of the area proms are over now.  Last weekend, I enjpyed them vicariously because of  the many postings by proud parents on Facebook.  Are there no homely girls anymore?  I loved seeing all the beautiful young women in their lovely dresses.  I hope they all have good memories to store away for less festive future times in their lives.  We are so blessed to live in a nation where such luxuries are available for our children as they grow up.  I hope teachers, aunts, or other mothers helped any who could not afford a luxurious dress because there are plenty out there in garage sales and thrift stores that can make young women look like the princesses they deserve to be on special occasions.  

Now finals are going on and graduations about to begin.  Gma Shirley was going to be at Katherine’s tonight, but it is her granddaughter Sarah’s graduation from Southern Illinois University Carbondale, so I will to take her place at Katherine’s house for the evening until the night aide arrives.  We have one grandchild graduating high school this year, and a couple of neices’ children are graduating.

We spent much of our week focused on the Southeastern Conference softball tourney especially after we won our first game against Louisiana.  After rain delays all day yesterday, we were sitting expectantly in front of the television at l0 this morning.  Unfortunately, University of Florida (#1 seed in the tourney) beat us 9-5.  The game began with two quick home runs on their part, and we had some moments of disbelief that the Gators might win by the mercy rule—something we have no experience with knowing how to handle.  But we rallied and it took all seven innings for Florida to go on to play for the conference championship tonight.  Next come the regional tourneys.

Our niece Vicki Glasco Escue suggested on Facebook that we share good memories of our mothers.  I 

did not have time to respond when I read her idea, but I did enjoy her memories of  my special sister-

in-law Ginger.  Later as I pondered Vicki’s request, I decided one of my favorite times with my mother 

was when my brother would come home from working Saturdays at the Jonesboro Kroger Store. Dad 

would be in the living room reading or listening to the radio, I guess.  But Jim and Mother and I would 

pile on to her bed and listen to Jim’s adventures that day at the store.  I am sure we talked of other 

things too, but Jim usually had  interesting stories or funny incidents to tell.  We would listen and bond 

and end the day with warmth and happiness.   

As it has turned out, one of the families he told us about was a large family from one of the best farms in the Mississippi bottoms.  Clyde Treece, the father,  was one of the most successful farmers; and like in many farm families, Mrs. Treece was an excellent cook who knew good meals throughout the week were important to the family’s health and happiness.   Because of the many children, my brother was impressed with their large orders.  (With just three children in our family and no large noonday meal to prepare for, my mother’s orders were small in comparison.)  We liked hearing about that abundance, and I felt like I already knew the family when I married Gerald and found one of those children had grown up and was now my sister-in-law.  Opal inherited her mother’s exceptional cooking ability, and we have enjoyed many good meals at her table.  Her mother’s delicious pies were cherished, and when the family divided personal items after her death, they had an private auction just among themselves and her rolling pin brought a top dollar.

Funny how small things are often our fondest memories.  Mothers worry about wanting to give their children the world, but experience teaches us that love and devotion go further than any material provisions.   So it is that although I have enjoyed first the bed of solid white iris in someone’s yard as I drive into town and a little further up the street a bed of all yellow iris, it is my own bed now rich with buds that I am eagerly waiting to see.  Why? Because they will be purple just like the ones my mother used to grow.  Reckon the first bloom might show up tomorrow?

Rained Out!

Fixed a frozen pizza and carried it and other stuff down to family room to watch the Georgia-Florida softball game at the University of Kentucky, and game was not on.  Gerald not around. Phone rang with family friend Jim Smiley wanting to know when/where game was on, and I told him I did not know.  Phoned Gerald who said he'd be in soon, but game was rained out in Lexington.  Rescheduled for 6:00 this evening.

Hurried home this evening from Katherine's running late and concerned about missing first part of the game. Hurriedly took down a frozen chicken pot pie that I fixed in the microwave for Gerald-- only to find the game was again rained out and he had already fixed himself something and  eaten upstairs. I ate the pot pie.

So at 10 our time (CST) in the morning, we will again be turning on the television hoping to see Georgia win over top-notch Florida.  The Southeastern Conference championship game is still scheduled for tomorrow night.  We will see what the weather is tomorrow .

A Weekend at Home--Centered on Softball

The last games of the season are happening before the World Series playoffs start for women’s college softball teams.  Every game is watched with dreams of looking good enough to go to Oklahoma City. Our attention this weekend was focused on our Georgia Dawgs (ranked 23 nation wide) going up against the Florida Gators (ranked 2/3). 

Friday was Katherine’s birthday, and she had plans to get out with an aide that afternoon. For complicated reasons, she ended up needing to spend the day in bed. She had flowers and candy and an abundance of birthday cards (still on display), but was a sad day for me because I knew how she longed to get out of the house.  

After I had visited her and left our gift and card, I hurried home with a large prepared foot-long sandwich to share with Gerald as we watched the first of game of the Georgia-Florida series on his computer system. (This was a Florida TV station, I think, that we were only able to get on the computer, but he was able to put it on a larger TV screen in his office, so the view was quite good.—certainly more satisfying than Game Tracker.) 

What a time of excitement when Georgia won over this top team 3-2.  Chelsea Wilkinson shone as she pitched a career high of 12 strikeouts in seven innings.  Catcher Katie Brown hit two game-winning doubles.  It is so much fun watching our son Gerry and his daughter Tara Archibald coach and seeing our granddaughter Geri Ann on first base—especially when we win because we realize how much these Southeastern Conference victories mean right now. We went to bed a very happy.

Because of this softball series, we did not want to schedule anything else.  That is not actually accurate for me.  I badly wanted to attend the Illinois Chapter of the Trail of Tears Association meeting on Saturday because Steve and Lisa Thompson, the new young couple who bought the farm with Bridges Wayside Store on it, was hosting at that site.  This has been a long-held dream of the Illinois Chapter, but previous owners were less inclined to share with the public. I had it figured I could skip the last part of the second softball game that started at 11 a.m. and rush down to Route 146 with my lawn chair to attend.  But the reality was that it really was not doable. There was too much to do before and after that meeting, and my energy level is not what it used to be. I did start my long-neglected leg exercises that morning, change our sheets, do three loads of laundry, and other miscellaneous tasks before the game started. Menu planning for games during meal time is always a challenge.   This game was on television in the family room, so I brought down our lunch of pork chops, baked sweet potato, green beans, and pickled beets to eat as we watched. After the game and kitchen clean up, I went to Katherine’s.  

Let me share why I wanted to return to Wayside Store.  The Bridges Wayside Store on Route 146 is the only known extant building on the 1838 Trail of Tears route through our area.  It exists today only because someone in the Bridges family had enclosed it inside a barn in the 1890s. Supposedly to keep out whiskey thieves, the store’s door was covered with tightly placed nails. That door is now used as a dining room table by a Bridges descendant up in Springfield, but it was shared a few years ago at a Trail of Tears display at our area university museum.   The nearby large family home, called the Bridges Tavern, burned in 1940, and a smaller house is built on its foundation.  Like many pioneer families on early roadways, the Bridges family opened their home for travelers passing by to spend the night.  People watered their oxen and horses as well as themselves at the spring across the road.  Other pioneer travelers camped near a spring in a back field.  The Wayside Store provided needed supplies as well as liquor.  If you want to read Theresa Leschmann’s excellent article with photos of the old log store inside the barn, check out http://www.examiner.com/slideshow/bridges-wayside-store-on-the-trail-of-tears.

Since Florida defeated us 5-0 on Saturday, I was not as jubilant as the night before as I drove in for the afternoon at Katherine’s.  Gerald dropped in to stabilize the hospital bed Katherine had acquired to replace an unsatisfactory rented one. He and Dean Newbold had picked it up and moved the bed in for her, but one lock was missing on a back leg.  While Gerald was there, he helped her find and hit the record button for Sunday’s game that was to be televised.   I visited with Katherine until the night aide arrived at l0, and then went home for a quick review of II Timothy 3, which was the Bible lesson for the next morning.

After church on Sunday, I hurried to pick up a couple pizzas to go watch with Katherine the ending of the third Georgia-Florida game, which we thought was to be on a channel they have and we don’t. She was still in bed with the aide just getting her up when I arrived, and the television not on.  I am inept with modern television sets, but I thought I could find the game since I do help her find programs.  (I admit to longing for the days when television screens were controlled by a simple on and off button.)  To my disappointment and others in our area, the game was blocked on that channel.  I hurried to Katherine’s computer and watched Game Tracker to see us defeated 5-0.  Nevertheless, there were some great plays made by Georgia.  I could not feel too bad that in this series, we had our fourth win against a ranked team. 

After Katherine was up, since the Sunday game she thought was recorded was blocked (some kind of agreement the channel screen explained), she discovered that she did have Friday’s game recorded!  So the aide and Katherine and I ate pizza and watched the winning game, which was more fun that the other one anyhow.

Before Shirley Johnson (a special friend to Katherine and our daughter-in-law’s mother that I often refer to as Gma Shirley) arrived to spend the evening before the night aide came, I went on home with left-over pizza to feed Gerald.  By this time he was busy instructing grandson Sam on the use of the new boat motor.  Sam and friend Josh and a couple of cute girls had spent the chilly and muddy  afternoon fishing down at the lake, riding the Gator, and finished off with a boat ride. 

Interestingly, during the evening, Gerald found the Sunday blocked game on another channel that appeared after he had called complaining about the game being blocked.  So we watched already knowing the outcome and disappointed, of course, that Florida won two of the three games, but justifiable proud that we had played well against one of the best teams in the nation.

A Weekend Away

It had been much too long since we visited Mary Ellen and Brian’s family in central Illinois.  When I heard that Brianna had the lead in their school’s musical, I knew I had to be there.  This news was extraordinary because Brianna had never sung in public before.  Yes, we knew she was musical since she played first chair clarinet and participated in the state band, but even though both her parents were singers, Bri had never expressed an interest in being a vocalist. Nothing like starting at the top! We drove up Friday afternoon and went straight to the school.

Lincolnwood Junior and Senior High School at Raymond (just a little south of Springfield) have an outstanding auditorium for a school its size, but there has not been a long tradition of theater there.  Mrs. Weatherford came six years ago, if I understood correctly what she said when she honored Patrick Crawford for six years’ participation in drama under her direction.  Brianna came to Lincolnwood as a freshman; and although she participated in the chorus or in small parts each year, she had never aspired to a lead role.  She doubted that she could act, but she definitely can. (I have always noted that shy students are often extremely effective on stage.  Shy is not a completely accurate way to describe our Brianna because in so many ways she is self assured and deservedly quite confident. Yet she is often quiet, never pushy, nor does she have to be in the lime light.)

Despite the lack of a good sound system or sets for quick scene changes, Mrs. Weatherford has managed to gradually increase the difficulty of the annual musical each spring,. This year’s presentation of Guys and Dolls, based on Damon Runyon’s story and characters, was the most challenging school production in her career there, and the results were most impressive. The amount of talent for a school that size was evidence of her hard work and the training she has provided the kids.

Brianna seemed a natural Sarah Brown, and the twinkle in Patrick Crawford’s eye made him an excellent Sky Masterson. Tanner Butler was quite believable as Nathan Detroit, and Alicia Benning as Miss Adelaide was as believable as anyone could be to have put up with a fourteen year engagement. Her smile was adorable, and I enjoyed the beautiful smiles of all the Hot Box girls.  They had obviously been well coached.

Despite the dinner Brian treated us to after the show, I had to have a muffin when we reached their country home and Trent greeted us with hugs and hot homemade muffins.

Gerald broke his record by going to both nights performances.  He knew I would want to see both nights as I always try to do when we visit the Freeport grandkids’ shows.   I explained to him that each performance is different, and it was just like wanting to see both games in a double header or all three games in a weekend series.  I still expected him to stay at home the second night, but he was right there to applaud with the rest of us.  Getting to meet two of Mary Ellen’s friends I’d heard her talk about was a special treat for me.

Jeannie had driven down from Freeport with Cecelie and they’d stopped by Illinois State to pick up Elijah for the Saturday performance.  So Brianna had a couple of cousins in addition to her brother Trent and her friends there that night.  When she got home from the cast party, I am sure the younger generation had another party downstairs.  I don’t know what time she got home because after we all visited and feasted on Mary Ellen’s buffet, Gerald and I headed to bed.  But since Jeannie had told her two that they would need to be back on the road at 4:30 a.m. Sunday, Cecelie was concerned because she heard Bri tell her mom she’d be home by 3:30.  Mary Ellen had to explain to us that was a standing joke between them, but Bri would be home at a decent hour.

Brian reminisced throughout the performances because his high school had also done Guys and Dolls.  He had been Nicely Nicely Johnson and his sister Vicky had been Miss Adelaide.  Watching his pleasure at those memories reinforced what I have always known:  Theater participation provides students with invaluable group bonding and gives them perks that last a lifetime.

We slept late Sunday morning and had a leisurely breakfast and then visited more before we headed into Raymond again to worship together.  It felt good to pray with others for the victims of the Boston bombers.  After church, we drove to Litchfield to the same restaurant where we’d had dinner after the Friday performance.  We lingered as long as we could before we had to be back on the highway to head home to Southern Illinois.

Baby green leaves on the trees lining the roads were accented with the white and purplish pink blooms of the occasional dogwood or redwood. Despite the chilly winds, it was a beautiful day.  Gerald was driving, and I was relaxed. My lunch soon demanded a siesta that no amount of trying could postpone.  When I awoke, we were almost home.  It was good to have been away.  It was also good to be home.

Blossom Time

On Saturday, I saw the first blossoming tree.  An ancient tree next to an old farm shed was abloom with pink blossoms that would have cheered the hearts of the long ago residents who lived in the house no longer there.  There is still a side walk with a little gate out by the road reminding us that once a country doctor lived here.  He would hitch up his buggy and take the midwife next door with him to deliver babies throughout our rural area. I know that because many years ago I used to ride to a club meeting once a month with his daughter who had inherited the house. 

Marguerite told me how as a little girl, there was a train that came to their little village of New Dennison.  The pastor of Mount Pleasant Presbyterian Church would arrive on the train on Sunday morning from Carbondale.   Then he would ride with the doctor and his family to preach at what all the local people have always called Shed Church—the one with a cemetery over on Shed Church Road.   After driving back to New Dennison for Sunday dinner, the pastor would board an afternoon train to return to Carbondale. 

An elderly woman in the village of Crab Orchard on the other side of Shed Church told me how she became the pianist there as a girl and continued throughout her lifetime.  People would walk or arrive on horses or in buggies each week, and large crowds would celebrate Christmas with programs that made the season special.  Even when she was too feeble to go to church, she would make a point to play her piano at home each day.  She would go to bed early every night and before going to sleep would let her mind wander over all the good old days when her husband and she and their friends would play jokes on each other.  There was a pair of overalls that traveled to people’s clothes lines.  She would entertain herself with her memories until she fell asleep.  “Sometime I just laugh out loud,” she told me.

I like remembering these stories when I occasionally pass Shed Church or as I almost daily drive by the cluster of houses in the village of New Dennison.  I remember little Mildred Stapleton, who used to make dresses without a pattern for my three daughters, telling me that her family—the Lamberts—had a store there in New Dennison, and I think they likely sold yard goods as well as groceries.  (Mildred had a sister-in-law also in our neighborhood with the same name, so since one was tall and one was short, we would have to distinguish who we were talking about with an adjective in front of Mildred—in case you wondered why I said little Mildred Stapleton.)

The little Presbyterian church called Shed does not meet on Sundays anymore although the cemetery is still used for burials, and it is a lovely place for solitude and meditation.  I would never have guessed New Dennison once had a train track if Marguerite hadn’t told me. The little church building there was first a Lutheran church, I think it was, before that congregation dwindled and later a small Baptist congregation was organized and acquired the building.  I think there is a nearby cemetery up the road a bit connected perhaps with the first congregation, but it is overgrown and I have never searched it out as I have intended to do.  Evidently no descendants of those buried there exist in this area.

When I knew Marguerite, a school librarian, she was a widow living in a home full of antiques.  She had lived away but came back to her childhood home.  I was only in her home a couple of times, but I was impressed with the cherished furniture—one chair was supposed to have been used by Abraham Lincoln.  I grieved with the rest of the community when her home burned during her final years and the antiques went up in smoke.  I recently met a young woman whose mother had been Marguerite’s caregiver, and she told me how they took Marguerite into their home so she would not have to go to a nursing home after the fire.

Few hints of its rich past remain at New Dennison.  That beautiful tree filled with pink blossoms not only treated my winter dulled eyes with its beauty but it filled my mind with many shared memories about the lives of those who used to walk by. 

By the next day, the pear trees were bedecking the countryside with their bridal white blossoms. Out our lakeside windows, Gerald’s hyacinths are sharing their lovely soft colors, and paperwhites grace yet another flower bed.   Our little tree in the middle of the front circular drive is a mass of white blossoms.  Along the road to town, golden forsythia joins the bright yellow of dandelions popping up everywhere.   The redbud near our driveway is just beginning to blush a bit with the promise of more blossom beauty in another day or two.  Coming alive again, nature is bringing us joy and promises of the future as well as memories of the past.

Catching Our Breaths

Last Sunday night our family gathered at the Cedar family’s town church as Sam had been invited to speak.  The far-away families needed to leave for home and had planned to leave in late afternoon, but going to support Sam won out.  Mike and Leslie with their dog, little Millie, had left us for their drive home to Tennessee, but everyone left the farm for the 6 p.m. service.

We arrived in three cars at different times, so everyone could leave for home immediately after that service.  So we were sitting in three different places, and we all began to look for Sam’s cousins who had come in a fourth car.  The service had begun and none of us were seeing them.  We were communicating with looks of curiosity at first, and someone realized they might not even know the way there without Sam in the car to guide them. Because the kids had turned off their phones as they should have, texting and phoning brought no results.  Our curiosity had turned to concern, and my imagination began to run wild.  It was hard to concentrate on the service, but I know all of our family was praying much the same prayers as we thought about the possibility of an accident enroute to the service.

Although I did not see our son-in-law Rick leave, when he quietly came back to his seat again, I knew all was well.  The younger generation was somehow out of our view from our spots in the sanctuary, but Rick had found their car in the back parking lot and knew they were safely inside.  I am sure each of us adults was ready to worship with great thankfulness after it had occurred to us how horrible an accident could have been with young people from three families traveling in one car.  So by the time Sam spoke, we were relaxed and filled with gratitude that at least for then that life could continue in a peaceful fashion.

I have been catching my breath and getting back to normal for me and Gerald here at Woodsong ever since.   Mary Ellen was hopping up and washing our dishes throughout the weekend, and last Sunday afternoon she had both the dishwasher full and sink-full washed.  So things were in good shape when our families left here.

 

Finally we have given away, frozen, eaten up, or fed to Jake all the left overs.  As I reduced bowls of food, larger serving pieces were emptied and I have those all washed up and put away now.  Tablecloths have been laundered and fresh ones put back on the tables.  A pair of jeans, someone’s charger, and the lost oval Pyrex lid have all been found among the left-behinds which always occur after families visit. Two beds have been changed and sheets laundered and the third set of sheets is in the washer now.  All the towels used throughout the weekend are clean again, and as soon as the drier stops, the last ones will be folded. Or maybe I will let them go till Monday since I am going in to Katherine’s house soon.

Katherine has had a busy week and with the help of aides accomplished much.  She arrived for one doctor appointment and one dentist appointment two days in a row, and she met a request for more information from a government agency.  She now has a new state of Illinois identification card in her billfold and a new Social Security card ordered. 

Gerald had a busy week too.  He had scheduled a checkup for our furnace since it had been two years since the last inspection.  Unfortunately, a very expensive replacement part was needed, and it was finally decided it would be cheaper in the long run to get a new furnace with a ten-year warranty than to keep having to spend such large amounts to keep the old one running.  So two days were spent replacing our furnace. And the repairmen found out the cause of the hot water shortage we had over the weekend and that too has been made to function correctly.

Wednesday night Gerald and I breathed a sign of relief as we watched the video as our Georgia Bulldogs won over their in-state rival Georgia Tech with a mercy ruling.  Last weekend at Fayetteville had brought three unexpected losses and heightened our disappointment that Gerry’s family could not be with us at Easter.  Playing 5/6-ranked University of Tennessee Volunteers was going to be a real challenge this weekend, but we were hoping after Wednesday’s many UGA home runs that we were ready for the challenge.  Yesterday and today’s games have been a disappointment, however, but we are hoping things change tomorrow afternoon with the third game of the series. 

People's Problems and Family Gatherings

Usually I deliberately write about the pleasant things in our life on the farm.  Occasionally I am more honest and share the less pleasant.  I really have always done this not just for consideration of readers’ feelings—but as a form of therapy for myself.  It makes me happier when I dwell on the good things in life and not life’s problems. 

Sitting in the area Social Security office today, I realized anew that probably everyone—or at least almost everyone—has problems. The office has problems because hours have been cut to 3:00 in the afternoon; we found this out when we phoned the other day. Finally today Katherine had a van driver to take her to an early doctor appointment and she would have time to go to the Social Security office before 3:00 to apply for a new card to replace her lost one.

But this morning, we found out that on Wednesdays, the office closes at 12 noon, which would make it impossible for her to get there by closing time.  So after a phone consultation, she frantically searched and secured all the necessary documents and her signature on an online application we printed out, and I was assigned to go to the office while she kept her important medical appointment.  She had a deadline today with another agency, and she needed the proof she had applied for a card. After I finally found the local office, I was greeted by a security guard who invited me in.

Then he pointed to a little machine, which I punched and it printed out my number 76 for my turn to see a worker. Every chair but one was filled after I sat down. I was very grateful that my daughter had not had to be let down from the van (a long operation) and then to maneuver her chair through the maze of doors to get inside that crowded waiting room.  Since the building was new, I know it had to be wheelchair accessible, but it certainly did not look like it would have been easy for her to enter one door and then turn to enter the second door.

 It was less than an hour to closing time, and in answer to my questioning, my neighbor whispered that the man on an end chair was to be next, and his number was 66.  Every ten minutes or so, someone was allowed to go up to the window, and new people kept coming in.  My question was if they would kick us all out at noon.  But they did not.  At precisely 12:00, the security guard locked the outside door, and I breathed a sigh of relief that evidently the worker at the window was going to see all of us who got there by noon.  There were people there older than me; one kept falling asleep as I wanted to do. There were several young people there too—one of whom had to hire a driver to bring her there and the driver needed to leave before the young woman’s long wait was up.  She only needed  to turn in the papers she had in her hand. (She did accomplish her goal just before the guard locked the door.  I was so relieved for her.) Most of my wait was in deadly silence, but at the end some of the newcomers were more talkative and started conversing.  As they shared with one another, I felt the pain that goes on in so many lives with family’s health issues, sharing custody following divorce, foster children caught in legal tangles.  I also felt their bravery in battling their problems. By the time I had my five minutes with a most pleasant worker, I left grateful for our caring government and for fellow humans struggling with life’s challenges.

We just had a four-day celebration of Easter at Woodsong starting with folks arriving Thursday evening when I had thought they’d arrive on Good Friday.  I had a casserole big enough for a crowd  waiting in the fridge to stick in the oven. Leslie had written she and Mike would be in Thursday, but then she changed the time because they were going to look at a rental house and could not come until Friday.  I thought everyone else had school on Thursday and would have to drive in on Friday. (I did not know they were all on spring break.)  So I planned to do the downstairs beds on Friday morning. Mary Ellen and Brian stay at their new place now when they are down, but all the cousins gather in here at the farm as the headquarters to plot and plan their various activities.  But since all the ones staying here (except for Leslie and Mike) arrived the night before, they had to fix their own beds. I was embarrassed. But that was an easy way out of a job! 

Mary Ellen and Jeannie had insisted they would carry in and prepare most of the Sunday feast.  I had already started the three layer traditional gelatin ribbon salad.  Easter morning, I only put  the ham in the oven and made simple scalloped potatoes as I do this one day a year,

A bunny rabbit cake became as must after little Mary Ellen started it so many years ago at Pondside Farm.  After she left home, I would hurriedly do one, but the girl cousins dyed the eggs and did the baking this year, and the cake was the prettiest we have ever had.  With their other desserts plus my left-over party desserts I dug out from the freezer, we had all the sweets we needed all weekend.  I realized just before serving time that I had forgotten that I always made fruit salad for Easter, so I hurriedly opened up cans and added fresh fruit and that was done. Gerald and I had some that was left over tonight as we watched the softball game in his office.

I started to blog while everyone was here, but I didn’t want to be away from the thick of family things that long.  It was never finished.  So here is what I wrote during the gathering:

Family gatherings come complete with crisis so often.  Usually not major crisis—just normal small life happenings.

For example, Lucky, one of the Eiler dogs was missing.  Cecelie reported he was not in the van where he likes to hang out and hides sometimes.  So kids were on the Gator out searching for him.  Solution:  Oh he was found in the van the second time Cecelie looked.  He had come out of hiding and was finally ready to come out and play with his dog cousins.

For example, after over 11 years with an 85 gallon water heater that rarely ran out of water no matter how many were here showering or doing college laundry, suddenly early in the morning before anyone had used the shower or the washing machine, we were out of hot water.  Hmmmm.  I took a very cold bath. 

For example, I fix three hamburgers for me, Gerald, and Trent who had been sleeping on the couch in the kids’ den. I thought the house was empty except for us three. Then suddenly at 12:30 noon, three more show up---they had all slept late behind bedroom doors—and only one had gone out to breakfast with adults.  They couldn’t have cared less, however, since they are content to find cereal when they wake up or to fix hot pockets in the downstairs microwave.  In fact, the third hamburger was never eaten.

For example, the ice maker acted up and no cubes are available without going inside the freezer unit itself and retrieving them by hand.  With a crowd—uggg!  So Gerald is unclogging it and the frozen up unit is filling up a kitchen sink and very slowly melting.  Very slowly.

For example, Jake, who Gerald has tried to break from chasing cars, evidently has not learned yet.  At least he is limping and making us nervous.

For example, Millie, our newest great grand dog, arrived with Leslie and Mike from Nashville, causing much excitement among all the cousins.  Everyone wanted to meet Millie.  Millie is less than thrilled with country life and does not understand why she is left outside.

Well, that was as far as I got on the blog while family was here.  But let me add one sweet thing that happened on Saturday.  The teens and young adults--I keep forgetting that two more have turned twenty and that we only have two teenagers left among the cousins-- had gone to one of their favorite eateries in Marion, and a lady came to their table and said she remembered being young and having fun together like they were and she handed them a $20 bill and said for them to pay it forward.  When I was being told the story, I was afraid the ending was going to be that someone was griping at their noise and their giggling.  Then I felt such a warm flow of joy that this woman had shared her pleasure with these kids.  I hope she had a wonderful Easter, and I like to think that years from now these seven, who were able to be here this year, will remember this story and pay forward happiness to tomorrow’s kids someplace somewhere in restaurants probably a long way from the farm.

Spring Pleasures

Despite driving home from Katherine’s last night in the snow and waking to a white lawn here at Woodsong this morning, I enjoyed spring. In the center of our dining room table is a bouquet of daffodils that grandson Sam presented me with Saturday from his mother’s lamp post planting.  He must have read my blog that I was wishing for a daffodil bouquet, and I certainly appreciated their beauty as I sat doing paper work at the table all morning.

I used the two angel food cake mixes that did not get made on Monday at the end of the week.  One was Gerald’s birthday cake—un-iced and perfect for a disciplined guy who does not intend to develop diabetes.  We ate his steak dinner sitting in front of the computer watching granddaughter Geri Ann win the first of the three game sweep this past weekend against Ole Miss.  He had gone to Union County for his traditional birthday breakfast with his brothers that morning. 

I was relieved to find out that even his brother Garry made it to the breakfast because I had learned when I awoke that Garry had to take his wife Ginger to the hospital after midnight.  Their daughter Vicki Sue texted me.  She was being a good Samaritan that day to get Katherine dressed and ready for some ordered tests over at St. Joseph Hospital in Murphysboro.  Our pastor was the other good Samaritan, who was driving the van.   I was resting at home all day!  (I was go in for the evening after the ball game and perhaps stay the night—but as it turned out, we were able to secure a new weekend night person, so at the end of the evening, I came home and slept in my own bed.)

Garry told Vicki to go ahead and take care of Katherine just as she had planned, and he and her brother Kerry would take care of Ginger.  When I read the text, I figured that Gerald would be spending his birthday over at Cape with Garry.  But Garry was able to bring Ginger home by 5 a.m., and Kerry stayed with her while Garry drove in for Gerald’s breakfast celebration.  The doctors thought she had had a reaction to meds.  So after his special breakfast, Gerald had a pleasant day with lots of birthday phone calls and Facebook wishes even though his original plan to go on an  out-of-state was cancelled earlier in the week.

The second angel food cake mix provided me with a dessert for our church pot luck yesterday.  I am not sure I had ever seen such a large dessert table as showed up at that potluck, but the angel food cake was enjoyed enough that I only had a few pieces to bring back home.   Neva Woolard was not so fortunate.  I teased her husband George that I was sorry I ate the last piece of her homemade strawberry/rhubarb pie because everyone at our table was telling me how delicious it was and I just had to try that last piece!  Her pies are beautiful to look at and luscious to eat.

I took a plate of the potluck food on into Katherine’s house for her to enjoy although she could not see the colorful dining room decorations with Easter buckets of spring flower arrangements on all the tables. 

I was relieved when the Sunday night worker came a half hour early because it was snowing hard, and I was nervous about driving back to the farm if it turned slick.  It didn’t.  We usually have about the same temperature and weather as Saint Louis, just a little north of us, but we have not had anything like the bad weather they had yesterday and today.

When I got home this evening I was delighted to read that for the second time Geri Ann has been chosen Southeastern Conference Freshman Softball Player of the week.  (Last week University of Georgia’s Tina Iosefa received that honor.)  Geri Ann was also chosen for national honors as College Sports Madness National Player of the Week.  If you want to see UGA play, you can google their website and go to the softball page and watch their Wednesday game against Georgia Southern, which will be at 5 p.m. our time here in the Central Time Zone.
Here’s the article from the University of Georgia website that made my day when I came home tonight:

March 25, 2013

ATHENS, Ga. – Georgia freshman Geri Ann Glasco has been named the Southeastern Conference Softball Freshman of the Week and the College Sports Madness National Player of the Week for March 18-24. It is the second time this season that Glasco has been named the SEC Freshman of the Week and the first time she has earned national recognition. It is the third SEC Freshman of the Week honor for the Bulldogs this season, as Tina Iosefa earned the honor last week. 

Glasco helped the Bulldogs (25-7, 6-0 SEC) to a 4-0 record last week. She helped pace Georgia’s offense last week, hitting .600 with six hits, five of which were home runs. She also slugged 2.100 and had an OPS of 2.788 after reaching base nearly 70 percent of the time in four games. She led the team with eight RBI and scored a team-best seven runs in four games. The Watkinsville, Ga., native belted a home run in four straight games, including one in each game against Ole Miss. 

In the second game against Ole Miss last weekend, Glasco recorded her first multiple home run game, hitting home runs in consecutive at bats. She hit her third home run of the day in her first at bat of the second game of the double header against Ole Miss, bringing her total to three home runs in three at bats. The five round-trippers last week brought her season total to a 12, tied for most on the team and most ever by a Georgia freshman. 

In addition to her offensive numbers, Glasco led the Bulldogs in the circle, picking up three wins to improve to 15-1 on the year. She combined for two no hitters and two shutouts in her three appearances last week. She allowed just six hits in 12 innings of work and struck out eight. 

For the season, Glasco leads the team with a .452 batting average, a .935 slugging percentage and an on-base percentage of .542.

Glasco and the Bulldogs return to action on Wednesday, March 27 when they look to win their 16^thstraight game as they host Georgia Southern at 6 p.m., at Jack Turner Stadium.

Softball and Spring

Since February, many of the conversations around here have been about University of Georgia’s softball games.  We are again having meals in front of game tracker on the computer in Gerald’s office, and already Gerald and his nephew DuWayne have had two trips to see UGA play.  They attended the first opening tourney at Athens, and then last weekend enlisted Sam, who was on spring break, to go with them to games at Auburn University in Alabama.   The weather there was warm and beautiful, and three wins made the outing quite a success.  The many homeruns confirmed the team’s improved batting, and everyone came home happy.

Little Payton, our youngest great grandchild, had chosen to come along with his Gma Vickie while his two older brothers elected to stay home in Athens under their dad’s watch care.  So Payton’s unexpected presence was another plus adding to Sam and Gerald’s weekend enjoyment.  Come to find out, Vickie’s mother (Gma Shirley) had caught a ride down to Athens with her son who was going through, so she was at Athens too and able to attend church with Bryan and the older boys, Aidan and Maddux.  So I know those two little guys had plenty of adoring attention also.

A few weeks ago I was thrilled, as I am each year, to see the crocus coming up beside Katherine’s  front sidewalk from bulbs she had planted in healthier and happier years.  Since it was still winter, the snow came, and I assumed the yellow buds beneath the snow were destroyed.  Happily, after the snow melted, there the sturdy blooms were fully opened and more vibrant than ever.  A second snow covered them, and I thought that might be their demise, but the second melt left them still lovely proclaiming that spring was around the corner.  At that time I was also watching and enjoying the  flowering of roadside daffodils, which had come up in their annual abundance before the second snow.  They too continued to thrive after the melt.  Since then, Katherine’s precious miniature daffodils have joined the crocus and their bigger relatives beside the lamp post and sidewalk to welcome in spring today.

Gerald wanted me to go along to Auburn since I suspect he knows it may be harder each year for us to travel to see Geri Ann play college ball. However, I knew we only had day-time hours covered for Katherine’s care, so I did not consider going.

I went out the Thursday afternoon before they left knowing that the young woman who comes for that night (and two other nights a week) had been having car trouble after her car accident and probably would not make it. (She thought she had her car fixed with a new part she bought, and she made it one night the previous week before the car broke down again.)  An older college student, she had been coming three nights a week for some time.  She was pleasant company and faithfully there to lift and adjust Katherine as needed. Then after the part did not solve the car problem, the car was in the shop for a couple of days. Then it still would not run.  So there had been frantic last minute phone calls from her area town about catching a late-night taxi or getting a friend to bring her before the friend went to work.  But the negative results of those calls made me expect that she would not to be there that night either, so I was prepared to spend the night.

Although the Friday, Saturday, and Sunday day-time care giver had had to transport someone to Chicago the previous weekend (an assignment from her regular job), she was scheduled to be there those three days, and I knew she was quite competent.  My plan was to try to get night time care arranged for those same days, but if that did not work out, I knew I would be rested to fill in.   So when I finally saw Katherine arranged comfortably in bed  that Thursday night (long after midnight), I  knew the day worker would relieve  me at 8 the next morning when DuWayne was meeting up at the farm with Gerald and Sam, who had spent the night there, and they were leaving for Auburn.  

I would go home to an empty house with plenty of time to rest and try to enlist more help.
What I did not expect was the early morning phone call from the day worker trying to explain through pain and tears that she had a tooth break off in her sleep and must go to the dentist that very morning.  Or at least I thought that was what she was telling me with her garbled speech and my hearing aids not on.   Next came two or three text messages, since she could not talk, apologizing for crying because of the terrible pain.  I assumed she would get taken care of and be there the next two mornings.  Katherine had a long-time employee who now is back in school and just comes every Friday afternoon for four hours and helps her with paper work and whatever is needed. So after I spent the unexpected morning there, I hurried to the farm for fresh clothes and a breather before the night.  There was no time to try to find a brand new night worker for the weekend.  But I figured that was okay as the tooth problem would be solved and that aide would be able to show up Saturday morning.

By that night, however, she was in the hospital for over night as a result of the tooth, which was absessed and poisoned her system or something.  A text said she’d be out on Saturday. Evidently the whole episode was even more serious than I thought because she was not able to come in on Sunday either.  Her cousin, who was supposed to work over night Sunday to replace the girl with car trouble, was suddenly called in to fill he place of the tooth-troubled aide at the group home where she works.   But at least I knew Monday morning was covered by a most reliable employee and the afternoon by another extremely reliable worker.  It is usually two or three in the morning before Katherine is adjusted to be able to sleep, but she made a point  of not calling for me, as she had also kindly done the night before, and I got several hours of steady sleep before the Monday morning sunshine work me up. The cheerful morning worker, who is dealing with her husband’s recovery from surgery last week, arrived at exactly 7:20 all smiles with every hair in place.   I stayed to help her for a couple of hours when suddenly her phone rang telling of a death in their family.  Since her husband has breathing problems and was taking the death hard, she phoned their nearby grandson to go stay with her husband.

I knew she might have to leave early, but the afternoon worker is just as experienced and dependable so I felt comfortable leaving.  Katherine urged me to go home and get some rest.  What she did not know was I was scheduled to host the monthly women’s meeting from our church that night.  Leaders had said I did not need to fulfill my turn to open my house for the meeting, but I did not think it would be a problem since I did not know all these various cancellations would occur.  I haven’t been able to attend many of these meetings this year, and I thought it would do me good to be involved with a happy gathering. So after checking with the one to give the devotional that night, I wanted to have my turn at my house and had it announced.  

Since I could not decide if I wanted to fix ham salad sandwiches or chicken salad, I had already decided that I would put out various kinds of bread and let everyone make their own sandwich.  (I have made my own chicken salad a few times in my life, but now I am inclined to purchase it at the local warehouse store; and if I want to make it more personal, maybe I cut up some grapes in it.  I also have another store where I like to buy ham salad.)
I had made a couple of  angel food cakes without icing  when it was my turn to help with refreshments at Women’s Club in February, so I thought I’d do that again for these friends.  That was an interesting experience because one of the three of us to do refreshments had phoned and said she had napkins and everything bought and had the recipe and planned to make red velvet cake. I haven’t been able to attend but one previous meeting this year, so I said let me make an angel food cake for any diabetics present and also make a red punch to fit in with the Valentine theme.  She assured me I did not need to do that, but agreed I could.  The day before that meeting, she phoned with the awful news that her sister’s 45-year-old son had dropped dead of a heart attack totally unexpected and, of course, she must go to Kentucky to be with her sister. But, she said, the third member of our committee was back in town and she had taken supplies to her house and commissioned her to buy some sweet little red velvet cupcakes at the warehouse store instead of her homemade one.  That sounded like a fine plan to me. 
  
For many years if I make an angel food cake (from a mix), I have always made a second one at the same time—hardly any extra trouble.   I might send the extra one home with granddaughter Brianna, who likes them, or take it to a shut-in or freeze the extra. So that is what I did that morning, but then I debated whether it would be silly or not to carry in the extra cake with the punch bowl, ice ring, etc. that I needed to carry in to the library meeting room.   The angel cake was supposed to just supplement the red velvet cupcakes.  Fortunately, I decided to take both cakes. 

I went plenty early to set up, and there I learned that although the napkins, candies, and tablecloth were brought by the president, the cupcakes (main refreshment) were not there because that committee member had to go to the hospital the night before. Whew!  I knew we now needed two cakes, and I had them in the room.  We had a wonderful program with three speakers, and as usual, they were first on the agenda so they could leave before the business meeting if they chose to do so.  And as usual, they were invited by the president to help themselves to the refreshment table as they exited.  When one man gratefully said, “Oh, I will take an extra piece for my landlady,” I knew my decision to carry in two cakes was the right one.  
 
The elderly ladies (my age group are the young members!!) were most kind and seemed to really enjoy the freshly baked un-iced angel food. The tall white cake on a lovely white pedestal cake plate that author Hua-ling Hu had given me looked very pretty on the red tablecloth.  So I bought two more cake mixes planning to repeat that success at my house with my church friends.

I digress.  Back to this week’s  situation—although I had spent an unplanned night away from home, I still had  a day to prepare for the Monday night meeting—picking up all the clutter of reading material I’d left in the living room and the dirty dishes I had left Friday afternoon when I expected to be back home the next morning.  In the meantime, Gerald, DuWayne, and Sam had returned to the farm after midnight Sunday, and of course there was stuff carried in from their trip. 

When I left Katherine’s that morning, I knew I needed to pick up the chicken and ham salads at two different stores, but I would have time that afternoon to whip up the angel food cakes because they are so easy to make.  I already had the breads, chips, party napkins, and pretty candies in spring colors—even some yellow Peeps.  I decided the most important thing I could do that morning was to get a much needed hair cut and shampoo, so I went to the beauty shop and gratefully saw my favorite beautician, who always makes me feel like a new person.  I was so pleased that finally I was getting that respite and relief from hair in my face, and I relaxed.

 I am not sure who called first, but the afternoon worker phoned to say she had stomach flu, and the morning worker had heard from her grandson that her husband was not doing well and she better leave even earlier than planned. (She is so fine an aide that I was amazed at all she accomplished while she was there.) I rushed on to the stores for the sandwich spreads and picked up some pretty springtime looking miniature cupcakes and some of those red velvet ones I’d been told about.  Oh, and some yummy chocolate cookie-candy type treats in a tray that I could put directly on the buffet.  Since I would need to take the place the afternoon worker, the angel food cakes would have to wait for another time.  I had not really had a relaxed meal since I was home Friday afternoon, so after I picked up the ham salad, I decided I would stop at a close by local eatery that serves good breakfasts.  Unfortunately it was now eleven, and they quit serving breakfast at l0:30. They are also famous for their barbecue, so I ordered a sandwich and fries to go with my coffee—something I miss most at Katherine’s house.  After I saw an enticing list of pies on their blackboard (another thing they are famous for), I added a piece of raisin pie as an after thought. 

Well fueled, I left to go back to Katherine’s.  A friend and husband had come in, so as I left I stopped at their table and asked if she’d be at my house that night.  She suggested that I simply cancel, but since I had been told for certain the night worker was coming at 7, I knew it would much easier to have the meeting than to find time to make phone calls to cancel. 

I got home after five and loaded the dish washer and bathed and put on clean clothes.  Gerald helped me get down the punch bowl and serving plates.  I stirred up a punch and had an ice ring left from the Women’s Club meeting, and I fixed a pitcher of ice water.   I can honestly say I experienced  very little stress because I knew the church friends would pitch in and help me and completely understand anything I failed to get done—one of which was the clutter of reading material.  Sure enough, our pastor’s wife arrived early to help and soon another friend showed up, and the three of us had things pretty much organized by the time the others arrived at 6:30.  I pushed the button on the coffee pot, so we could smell it brewing during our meeting.  Jeannie had given us a special Freeport Blend from one of their local coffee shops, and I had deliberately saved it for this meeting. 

At the last minute, our president Kim Barger made her first public appearance since her very painful shoulder surgery—her husband brought her since she still cannot drive.  She could not play the piano for us either, but Charlene Morris led us as we sang a cappella  The hymns were unusually beautiful that way.  (I thought of our friend Loretta White, who now lives in South Carolina, who always loved our singing.)  After our devotional by Deanna Odom and a business meeting, the dozen of us in attendance moved to the kitchen and dining room area.  (My earlier helpers were there to put the last-minute things from the fridge to the buffet.) Soon the room was filled with conversations and laughter, and I knew my decision to go on with the meeting was the right one. It did do me good just as I thought it would. There were lots of hugs and loving things said as we parted, and I slept very well with the dish washer humming again.

Last evening I felt things were in good shape when I left Katherine’s, and good help was to be there today, so I felt no need to go in. Today I mostly piddled and rested. The first day of spring looked warm out the windows. However, when I went out to share table scraps with Jake (that is why he likes me), I felt how biting the wind was.  Today’s UGA softball game at home in Athens was on video as well as game tracker, so we enjoyed seeing our son and granddaughters Tara and Geri Ann as we watched on the computer.  Gerry and Tara were wearing warm coats and the trees were swaying around the ball field, so I know they were having a windy day too. Since the game ended mercifully at five innings (14-0 in UGA’s favor) Gerald and I were able to eat supper afterwards upstairs in the kitchen—dining on sandwiches from the spreads left over from Monday’s party.  

I did regret that I did not have time to stop and pick daffodils from the roadside for the tables Monday as that is a springtime tradition I have. But I will enjoy them tomorrow as I drive to town  and may find time to pick a bouquet yet someday.

Happy Doings

When we got the newletter telling about the Continuing Education conference yesterday at John A. Logan College, I signed Gerald and me up to attend.  With all the cancellations and problems of Katherine’s aides, however, I had become convinced we’d have to miss it.  And we did miss the first session, but happily we arrived in time to hear Chris Villillo presenting “Abraham Lincoln in Song.”  I think it was the best lecture/concert I have ever heard.  His research on both that era and his knowledge of musical history was fantastic and presented in the most engaging way.  He had the audience totally absorbed as well as participating in his music with hand clapping and singing.  I learned more in that hour about Lincoln that will stick than I think I have in my lifetime of reading and hearing about this 16^th President.

Who knew that Lincoln was a musician?  As he traveled the circuit as a lawyer staying overnight in the taverns of that day with his fellow lawyers, he not only gained his reputation as a master story teller, but he also could slip a tiny Jew’s harp from his pocket and join in as the men sang popular songs of that day. 

I had no idea what a Jew’s harp was, but Villillo gave us a demonstration as well as a brief history of the Jew’s harp, jaw harp, mouth harp, Ozark harp, English trump, guimbarde, and many other names this ancient instrument was called.  He said while Lincoln may have acquired his harp for a penny, Villillo had to pay $7 for the one he was playing.  He warned us that if we bought one for ourselves or a grandchild (my plan) to be sure to be aware that one  can take out a chip from a tooth if not played correctly.  This happened to him at an important occasion in front of one of our governors before he went to prison—a common occurrence for Illinois governors unfortunately. 

As he entertained us, Villillo played other antique instruments including a hammer dulcimer similar to one playing the waltz when Lincoln invited the lovely Miss Mary Todd to dance with him at that Springfield party at her sister’s home.  He had introduced himself by saying he wanted to dance with her “in the worst way.”  When she reported to her girlfriends afterward, who were very interested in this popular young gawky lawyer, she assured them that he stepped on her feet in the worst way.

One of the neatest things about yesterday’s conference was seeing so many friends that I haven’t had opportunity to see or have lunch with because of their busyness and mine.  It was great to be able to sit through one session with Marilyn Schild, who will soon be leading a tour to Puerto Rico, and to exchange hugs and brief conversations with Mabel Hayes, Marie Samuel, Dorothy Rudoni, Kara Webb, and others.  It was also fun to meet new people.  The noon-day meal was delicious and so was the fellowship.

A nice ending to a day, which started after I arrived back to the farm with Gerald fixing me a bowl of oatmeal,  was a sandwich supper I served to Gerald and our son-in-law Brian.  I went to bed early and slept well.

Katherine’s continued suffering is one of the most difficult and saddest things I have had to experience in life, and the joke was on us about the understanding nurse who said to come anytime before four that March 1 Friday that I last wrote about.  We hired an extra aide to help me and Jeannie and worked as fast as we could all morning  to get Katherine there that afternoon before four despite the rain outside.  About two, however, someone from that office called that an office meeting had been called, so not to come after all. That particular nurse or caller was amazed when Katherine told her what she and I both heard the nurse say  that no appointments for a couple other procedures would be necessary.  So that caller told her what we would have thought had we not been told otherwise that, of course, those procedures must be scheduled.  The caller said  someone would call her with new necessary appointments.  So far no one has called unless they did yesterday after I left in the early morning.  I will be going in soon and find out.