Home Sweet Home

There is a welcome gentle rain falling on the windows, and I am going to treat myself to go upstairs to the living room and choose a new book to begin reading.  I recently finished Wuthering Heights and Unbroken, so I get to begin a different book.

After leaving Woodsong shortly after 6 a.m. on Saturday and not reaching back home until a bit after ten last night, home seems very sweet.  Although I loved working outside the house, I used to look forward to being back at Pondside Farm,  As I approached the house in the evening, in my mind, I  called it my “Pleasure Palace.”  I knew that the newspaper, magazines, and books awaited me there.  The same feeling comes when I reach Woodsong, our retirement home.

I was very reluctant to build this new house, a half mile away and leave Pondside Farm.  We had remodeled more than once at Pondside adding more room, and though it was not a luxurious home, it suited me very well.  One remodeling had added a floor-to-ceiling book case in the small entrance foyer. (I had gotten the idea from a magazine photo.) I had a favorite chair in the living room, far enough from the family room that I could not hear the television there. This was especially neat when our teenagers had friends in.  I could occasionally check in on them, but their noise was shut out for the evening.  In addition to our bedroom, there were finally four small bedrooms so all four children had their own.  (Now no one could blame the roommate for a messy room!) 
Except for the major remodeling that lasted one very long  summer living with carpenters and falling plaster, one falling carpenter in fact, and flies coming in torn down openings,  the other smaller remodeling jobs there were Gerald’s.  Frankly, that was one of the reasons he wanted to build a new house.  He was sick and tired of working on that old house with its uneven floors and too many memories of past projects that might need to be repeated as natural aging continued to take place.   (Even with this well-built new house, we found out, he has had plenty of upkeep to attend to, but at least it was a refreshing change from the old house.)

One of the funniest projects over at Pondside, at least afterwards, was what we thought was going to be a rather simple bathroom remodeling.  Of course, all this work was in addition to Gerald’s farming activities. We had invited my family for one evening during our annual (at that time) Martin reunion.  We were very excited that we had relatives all the way from Oregon to Pennsylvania who were going to be able to come. But somehow everything took much longer than planned.  I think it was only the day before our party that the bathroom toilet stool and other building materials were still strung out from the bathroom to the family room and sitting under the wonderful old maple tree outside the family room back door. Gerald and I were both somewhat aghast at what our relatives might think if they arrived Saturday night to see that toilet bowl under the tree.  But Gerald heroically met the challenge, and a nice new bathroom was ready for use with no sign of the previous cluttered yard.  With cousin Barbara’s help, we were ready for guests and we had a good time.

Here at Woodsong every thing is arranged, if possible, for Gerald’s and my convenience and desires.  (That includes enough old couches, in addition to the one less bedroom that Pondside had, in order to handle the influx of grandkids, which we wanted.) Naturally there have been some mistakes we made in our planning, but not enough to matter in terms of enjoying our home. 

Unlike Gerald, I loved old houses.  (I did not have to do all the repair and remodeling work.  He did.)  However, there were two main reasons I was reluctant to move.  The Pondside home held so many memories of our children that I was sentimental about leaving. I did suffer just a mite the first Christmas, which seemed strange in a new house. That year I did not want to look at photos of past Christmases. But this house now has so many memories of its own that I no longer think with regret about the other one. The second reason I did not want to move was an etched-in memory from Gerald’s grad school days at the University of Illinois. Every time we went home for a weekend, we would pass a beautiful farm home that Gerald had heard about in class.  The farmer and wife had built this dream house only to have the husband have a heart attack soon afterwards, and she was a widow there.  Although I was young, this story deeply affected me, and I had a lump in my throat every time we passed it. When we considered building, I had a fear of that happening to us. Finally, Gerald persuaded me by asking me if I thought we were both likely to live five more years, and I honestly did. He then asked if that would make it worth while to make the move, and I agreed it would.  We have lived here over eleven years now, and I am grateful for his persuasion.

Last night after the two days of being a caregiver for our daughter Katherine with progressive MS, I was very tired when I returned home.  So I welcomed being off my feet and leisurely eating my late supper while reading Saturday’s newspaper that Gerald had saved and then glancing through Sunday’s. A final pleasure was a hot bath in my own tub and gong to bed in our very comfortable bed at midnight. I slept until 10:07 this morning and then caught up with a few things in the kitchen to have our lunch ready when Gerald returned from the therapy he is taking for shoulders and neck pain. I had managed to check my email and a do a tiny bit of catch-up on Facebook this morning, and this afternoon I was able to check out more on the University of Georgia’s website and other online sites about the softball team, where our granddaughter Geri Ann has hit a home run in the past four games.  Of course, Gerald had watched the games on Game Tracker and kept me pretty much informed already. 

Now I better quit reminiscing and go upstairs and choose that new book to read before supper time gets here.  I just suggested to Gerald that while he is in town that he go through a drive-in and bring us home a supper instead of my fixing us a light meal.  Not only will that taste better than what I might fix, there will be no clean up and I can read in that book a bit longer!

Message for the Ages and the Thirsty

Yesterday in the worship service of our village church, ages ranged from two-month old Issac and seven-month old Jace to Lena in her 90's. I love the inspiration of the older generation (which Gerald and I are rapidly approaching in our church), but I also am thrilled with the young adults and their children who will keep God's message of love and salvation alive in our nation long after we have perished from the earth. I love it that John assured us that whoever wishes is invited to take the free gift of the water of life.

Wisdom from Wendell

Our friend Wendell Garrison has written several devotional books—I am too lazy to run upstairs to the book case and count to be sure if it is four or more or only three.  Of course the latest is on Gerald’s bedside table where he usually reads the day’s entry just before he falls to sleep.  Wendell and Gerald were college roommates; and when they get together, they still laugh about some of their doings in those days—something about that sock monkey named Joe and one of them falling asleep during prayer time. 

When they were dating , we entertained Wendell and his first wife Margaret in our little green house in the country that we rented for $10 a month.  (Rent is cheap when there is no indoor plumbing, and for us newlyweds living a rural life style and starting a family was a dream come true.)  Gerald was finishing up his senior year at Southern Illinois University on the GI Bill and preparing to start grad school that fall at the University of Illinois when they came for dinner.   Katherine had been born in April, and we liked to claim that she was so sweet that she was an encouragement for Wendell and Margaret to marry.  We just made that up, but I suppose such musings are typical of parents enthralled with their first born. Wendell and Margaret went on to seminary and later came back to Illinois where Wendell served as a pastor for many years.  We would occasionally get to see them even though he was eventually working on the Illinois side of the St. Louis municipal area. We kept up through Christmas card exchanges, and once or twice Wendell accompanied Gerald to the East St. Louis stockyards with a truck load of hogs.

After the heart break of Margaret’s death, we were happy for Wendell when he later found Mary. We missed their marriage celebration given by their church because of a terrible snow storm, but eventually we were able to meet Mary and it was easy to understand why she made Wendell so happy.  We especially enjoyed his brief interim pastorate a year ago when he served at Katherine’s church in Marion.  We just regretted that he had agreed to only come for a short period because he had to finish his last book.

For a long time we received monthly mailings from his church with mimeographed copies of his sermons, which he always wrote out at that time. I borrowed from them occasionally for a devotion. I couldn’t tell you where they are, but I may have them someplace in this house.  Or maybe I gave them to our friend Loretta Crosson, who once told me she enjoyed reading sermons.

Most recently on Facebook, Wendell has been sharing one-paragraph devotional thoughts that come as he drinks his morning coffee.  If you want to read more of his thoughts, maybe he would let you friend him.  I didn’t think to ask him that when I asked permission to reprint his yesterday’s devotion in my blog.  I thought it was such an excellent follow up on what I had written yesterday.  There is evil in the world, but we have the ability to choose good. I also liked it that the young woman he wrote about was not only able to rise above her abuse but also used a journal to record her life.  When I encourage people to write, I know how much their writings will mean to their descendants.  Her journal can even bless you as you read her story in Wendell’s brief words of wisdom:

”Sitting by my fireplace, watching the curling flames, sipping tasty coffee, recalling a story that illustrates God's redemptive love, his ability to bring good out of bad: A Kentucky girl at age four lost her mother. Her father remarried. His new wife abused the girl. When she was fourteen, her father gave her and her sister each $12 and put them out on the streets. After her death in 2000, her family found her journal in which she had written that when her boy was born in 1936, she gave him to Jesus. I believe God used her hurts to help her to turn to his redemptive love. That boy became an influential preacher who until his death in 1988 was my wife’s first husband.”

Thank you, Wendell.  By the way, I just now googled and found it is four books that Wendell has written in retirement.  You can google Wendell Garrison also and go to his website, which I wasn't aware of,  to find how to order the last two, which are still available. 

The Goodness of People in Bad Weather and Fair

Looking out the kitchen window and across the driveway one morning last week, I saw seven fat blackbirds ornamenting the top of the snow-covered limbs of the gum ball tree there.  By evening the tree was bare of snow and birds.  We have experienced constantly changing and varied weather recently. The ground that was covered with snow on Sunday morning had melted by afternoon, One day it seems like spring, and the next day we will have bitter cold and high winds.

One evening last week I looked out the living room windows where I often pause to enjoy the puff of white billowing clouds against the deep blue sky. That time, instead, the tranquil scene was of layered blue clouds against a white sky. Nothing could have seemed more peaceful, and I paused a long time. Only a few hours later as I was reading in that same room, a storm was raging and beating against the wall of windows. I felt warm and very peaceful to be inside all cozy and dry on such a wild night. 

Then I heard a loud noise of beating rain in the front of the house different from anything I remembered from past storms.  I jumped up to see if the roof was leaking since Gerald was already in bed. The unusual sound was only hard slanted rain blowing across the front porch and pounding the glass of the front door.  I was relieved to go back to being cozy with my book, and by the next morning the front porch was swept clean by that storm. 

However, our neighbor’s cousin over in the nearby town of Galatia was not so fortunate.  That family of four was hit by the tornado that came through; photos show only one of their four walls still standing. They were so thankful for coming through alive that they were not lamenting their loss but rejoicing. I don’t consider myself materialistic, but I feel complete awe when I think of people going through such devastation and having all their clothing and possessions and photographs gone forever. 

All those citizens in New York and New Jersey--still miserable and still bravely coping with their terrible problems in this winter weather--fill me with appreciation for the human spirit. A bus driver who gave his life in an effort to protect the children made me know how good some humans can become. The news media keeping Nathan’s last name out of the news and many people working night and day to rescue him made me thankful for all the goodness that exists. 

When Gerald and I drove Katherine to a Carbondale appointment at the end of last week, the snow was so dense it made driving slick and difficult.  Today her cousin Vicki drove Katherine to Cape Girardeau to see a physical therapist at the hospital’s rehabilitation center to help her decide what kind of chair might best replace her worn out one. The weather was so gorgeous that I decided to leave my coat behind in my car, and I did not regret it. 

Despite the good driving conditions, however, stops to help Katherine in her painful chair made us late.  Vicki, an authentic angel, climbed into the back more than once to adjust stiff arms and legs as Katherine directed.  When we breathlessly and worriedly arrived, both the wheelchair technician and the therapist were warm and kind and made us feel we were of utmost importance.  Both stayed late and spent generous time analyzing her condition and working together to determine how to help her have a more pain-free life. Since her hands would not allow her to drive her chair today, one of them drove her to the van and helped Vicki lock her chair in. Such service beyond ordinary duty as well as Vicki donating her day to help us reaffirmed my realization that so much goodness exists in this world.

Come rain or shine, there are always people who will go to great lengths to help their fellow man.  One good Samaritan will go back and check on a “sleeping” man in a parked car beside the road and save his life. (A young woman I know did this.)  Another good Samaritan will pay for a child’s shoes. (Another young woman I know did this—more than once.)  Another good Samaritan will leave his busy office and drive ten miles to lift someone into a wheelchair.  (My pastor did this for me.). People from area churches will drive to Carbondale to prepare a free Tuesday meal for tables full of international students studying at the university.  Other churches take responsibility to prepare a week’s worth of meals at our local soup kitchen. Plant employees will take turns to make a meal and send to a family where the mother’s is ill.  Volunteers keep our homeless shelter functioning and bring in special meals for holidays.  A former convict now reformed gives thanks for the local Salvation Army that supplied him with clothes and furniture when he started his new life.   Now he is counseling others released from prison and helping them get the skills they need to live productive lives.

There are people who are destructive and full of hate for themselves and others. We find that out too often. Yet there are also glorious amounts of people who constantly reach out to help friends, neighbors, and strangers. Oddly, through giving they gain competence, compassion, and deserved self esteem.  Our goal should be to move the haters to join the world’s helpers and reap the benefits that come from loving kindness.

Being Organized Is Not Easy

Knowing an evening aide was coming in, I had gotten home early last night from Katherine’s after helping some there.  I already had chili thawed for our supper, and after supper, I had time to organize for today. Since I don’t always have time to organize, I was enjoying that feeling.  Next I brushed my teeth, arranged  my pillows for sleep in our bed, and come down to write a letter and then relax on the computer.

The first thing that happened to change my plans was Gerald appearing at my office door with a smile and a bowl of freshly popped corn. Earlier in the day he saw me start to make popcorn, something I had not done for weeks or months. I found out that the electrical outlet we use downstairs for the popper, which is permanently situated on its little table in the grandkids’ den was in use. Not wanting popcorn enough to unplug anything, I forgot about the idea.  Gerald didn’t and he came presenting me with popcorn not knowing I had brushed my teeth to be all ready for bed soon. Of course, the popcorn was gratefully accepted and worth brushing my teeth again before bed.

Next the phone rang, and Gerald appeared at the door with the phone saying we had an invitation from our friends Bill and Mickey Tweedy, whom we were supposed to meet for breakfast last week.  They wanted to treat us to breakfast this morning. Could we?  Sounded great to me, and I nodded yes.

In 1998, when I retired from my brief career in family literacy (only the last two years were 52-weeks full time), my house work had piled up during the last months.  So after retirement, I was able to find a younger woman to come in two hours a week to vacuum the house.  She could do it in two hours, whereas if I started, I would invariably be interrupted and it might take me two days or longer to finish.  I have been so grateful for Linda’s help for a couple of years over at the other house and for over 11 years in this house. Our home is on her way to town and she changes here, so in a way, she had no transportation costs. 

Not too long ago she started coming in on Thursdays since sometimes we were having family members sleeping in on Friday morning and there was traffic congestion in the kitchen.  For some odd reason, ever since we switched to Thursday, I often end up having to be away from home that day.  But I just leave her check and she does fine without me here.  As I said, she is a great blessing and a real friend to me. So not being at home was not a problem when I realized we were going out for breakfast on a Thursday.

When I organized for today, I had my grandson’s birthday card and the new roll of stamps I just bought laid out to get in today’s mail.  I’d stopped at Small’s on the way home yesterday and bought a roast large enough for our noon-day dinner and for tonight’s supper for Katherine and Sam. (I have tried to take supper on Thursday nights for a couple of years now, but the last two or three weeks, I have been at Katherine’s house helping out and so I didn't.  When I first started, I tried cooking once at her house and the fumes set off her asthma as did a horrible experience I had not long ago when I burnt something in her microwave and filled the kitchen with smoke.)  So anyhow I wanted to get back on schedule by taking supper tonight since I was not needed there today. It was easy to just switch plans on the roast for our supper too and have something easy for lunch since a late breakfast would not leave us very hungry at noon.

But I wanted to be sure and get the grandson’s card and birthday check in the mail today.  I did not think about it last night after the breakfast invitation came or I could have done it then.   I am a late sleeper, and consequently this morning I was hurrying around getting his card addressed to mail.  That was not as easy as it might seem as I knew I had his college address from last year somewhere on some list or scrap of paper.  Not long ago I had asked his mother to make sure what it was this year.  She messaged me back that it was the same as last year and resent it to me. 

I figured I could find it quicker on her message than looking upstairs at my messy address lists I have used for too many years.  So I wrote his and Linda’s checks and rushed down here to my computer.  I turned it on hoping that I did not have trouble getting on the Internet or on Facebook as I sometimes do.  It all worked beautifully and there was his address in Jeannie’s message—except there was no zip code for Normal, Illinois.

I rushed back upstairs, signed the card and enclosed the check, addressed the card and stamped it. Once upon a time, I could find Illinois zip codes in the front of the phone book, but as I was afraid, that page is not there now. So I started looking for the address upstairs, which was what I had gone downstairs to avoid.  I did not find it, and by now it was past time for us to go.  We were going to keep our hosts waiting.  Gerald was patient with me, but I grabbed my charged cell phone and believed I had the post office number keyed in.  I would call them on the way to town and find out Normal’s zip code. Alas, the post office number was not on my phone.

Bill and Mickey were smiling and welcoming even though we were a tad late, and we had a wonderful visit during and after our breakfast.  Since Gerald’s appointment to turn in our farm books for income tax purposes was this afternoon, I did not suggest stopping by the post office.  When we got back to the farm, I made it my primary goal to start finding that zip code. 

Or at least that was what I intended to do first.  But Gerald said, “Look, Linda left her check.”  I looked and there was Elijah’s birthday check, which meant Linda’s was inside his sealed card.  So the first thing I had to do was put water on to boil and steam open his card and switch the checks. And find a glue stick to reseal his card. And then I called the post office and got the correct zip and rushed the card down to the mail box because although our mail often comes late in the afternoon, if I want to insure something gets mailed that day, the mail gets delivered early that day. When I got back, I served Gerald that quick lunch and had time to think about Linda.  She really should not have to wait for her check although she would have kindly told me to wait until next week.  So I addressed an envelope for her and also took it down to the mailbox.  So much for my organization skills….

I browned the roast and put it in the oven and scraped the carrots to add later. After Gerald left with the farm records, I read a bit and took my nap, which is a new development in my life.  I have never wanted to nap in daytime, but now when I start to read, I frequently fall asleep.  (I excuse that by saying it is not my age but that I go to bed too late.)

In the late afternoon I left a house smelling good with garlic added to the roast like daughter Mary Ellen taught me. I enjoyed a brief visit with Katherine and also with her aide when she arrived, and then I came home to enjoy our roast with Gerald.  With any luck at all, Elijah will get his card on his birthday. 

Leslie and Mike's Wedding

I just found this link on my daughter Jeannie's Facebook page tonight.  I am not very knowledgeable about knowing how to post things, but I am going to try to post this in case you are interested.  One correction to the photographer's story--Jeannie's dress was made from one of my college dresses--it wasn't what I wore to  her wedding. (I passed that one on to someone else long ago.) Jeannie wanted to wear my going-away dress from my wedding in 1956, but it has developed holes in it for some reason, so she went with one I had dated in. The barn in the photos is on Brian and Mary Ellen's new farm they had recently had bought from the sons of  the late Harold and Novella Rix.    When Leslie decided to use the barn for their picnic reception, Jeannie gave strict orders that it must not be painted before the wedding. This barn had the well-known large star on it again this Christmas--the one Harold made and we all enjoyed for many years.Let's see if this works:

http://blog.kimberlybarnesphotography.com/wed-michael-and-leslie/

Sitting Pretty

One of my best Christmas presents was a last-minute agreement with Gerald that we would wait until after the holidays to think about a gift for each other. Our live had been so over-full that there had been no time for shopping.  Neither of us had an idea for the other one—and neither of us had a suggestion to give of what we wanted.  One of the blessings of being elderly is that you have more than you need and ought to start disposing of things, so it is hard to come up with something you want to obtain.  I did not even have the name of a book in mind to suggest because all I could think of was the ones already acquired and waiting for me to read. (I do have some out-of-print books I’d like, but two days before Christmas would not allow anyone to find such books.)

Well, I was shopping for groceries at the local warehouse store and accidently walked through the book aisle.  And Proof of Heaven in $9.95 paperback caught my eye.  Back when Elizabeth Kubler-Ross’s book came out about near-death experiences, we had read and been interested.  For me that interest was intensified in that same era when a friend and pastor’s wife Nita Robinson shared her own near death experience.   I don’t know what happened to Ross’s book, which I think we may have owned, and I can’t really remember much other than its subject matter of death. (Now I want to read it again.) 

Anyhow I made the mistake of pausing to look at the Eben Alexander book and soon noted two other paperbacks on the same subject right by it.  Suddenly I had cheated and broken my pledge to Gerald by buying all three paperbacks for him.  At the end of Christmas day, I apologetically gave them to him as my first installment of his Christmas gift.  I still did not have any ideas for him or for myself.

Last week on Thursday we were supposed to meet friends in Carbondale for breakfast, and I’d packed the car trunk the night before to recycle while there.  And I had put in my hearing aid in the front seat.  It had gone bad two days before Christmas, and needed to be checked out by the technician in Carbondale. The next morning we had to cancel our breakfast date unexpectedly, so I began to try to plan again for a trip to Carbondale as I did not want to unpack the trunk. 

So I told Gerald he would get the rest of Christmas present on Monday and to reserve that day.  We would go to lunch together, recycle the stuff in the trunk, drop off my hearing aid, and do his usual errands at the large office supply store there where he gets camera and computer supplies.  Then late in the afternoon we would see Lincoln at a Carbondale theater and go out to dinner together afterward on the way home. (We were able to stop at Katherine’s house on our way over and again on our way back and do some adjustments for her and help just a mite there.)

It turned out to be even a better gift idea than I had thought.  We thoroughly enjoyed our day together and the movie.  And at the office supply store, we saw a very nice desk chair on sale. Gerald said my computer chair was broken and he had tried to fix it but it could not be fixed.  Didn’t I want a new chair?  This was all news to me.  I live life pretty much unconscious much of the time.  As far as I knew, my chair was fine, but I did believe him when he said it wobbled or something or other was wrong with it.  And the chair in front of me was much better looking than the one at home.  So suddenly I knew what I wanted for Christmas, and by the next day he had it out of the trunk and put together for me.  The old one is pushed over to another desk area in my office and can hold a guest, I suppose, until it falls apart.

I am sitting here enjoying my new chair as I write you this blog.  I am indeed sitting pretty.

January Days--White, Black, Gray, Green

The week started with snow all over the ground, and the world looked white..  Tuesday morning when Katherine’s aide called in sick, I took off for town. Even though it was daylight, my main sensation as I scanned the landscape was blackness—dark road, dark tree trunks and bare branches in the surrounding perimeter with even the many evergreens looking more black than green in that early morning light.

The next morning I drove to a morning doctor’s appointment as a follow up for blood work.  Gray-white fog  surrounded me.  It was not enough to bother driving visibility as the fog seemed to move away as I drove through it. But that day the world seemed whitish gray with the distant  trees dimmed by the film of fog. 

The last two days have been spring-like with temps in the 60s. Yesterday was sunny, but today was drizzley. As I drove in for a haircut this morning, with the snow completely melted, the green and brown grass now revealed permeated my vision.  The evergreens were green again despite the drizzle and wet highways. 

Mary Ellen was down briefly yesterday with Brian, and we enjoyed hearing about their holiday trip to Hawaii.  With their daughter a senior in high school, Mary Ellen knows what every parent feels when they realize children will soon be moving on.  So this special  family vacation was very meaningful to them, and it was good to hear how well it went after having their flight cancelled in the middle of the night after they had finally gotten to bed only an hour before.  Mary Ellen said they spent the rest of the night arranging another flight to Dallas with a different air line. When they went to bed, they had bags packed and waiting at the door  for their early morning drive to the airport. Fortunately, all details were completely organized and planned, and miraculously they made it to Dallas with a different airline and then by van over to the right airport there to catch their flight to Hawaii.

Our Christmas trees are down and put away for next year. The Christmas cards have quit coming and the mailbox holds mostly advertising pieces or periodicals. I tried a new recipe for chicken stew from a woman’s magazine—as usual making a substitute or two for ingredients not on hand.  Katherine and I really liked it, bit Gerald was less enthusiastic.  It is the right time of year to clean a closet or two and try new recipes and look forward to spring. 

After Christmas Thoughts

Driving home Christmas Eve afternoon, I thought of what I might write in a blog and picked what I thought was a perfect title:  “Almost Ready—Maybe.”  But when I reached the farm, I wanted to enjoy our son and wife, Gerry and Vickie, and Geri Ann and Bryan and Tara, Aidan, Maddux, and Payton, all of whom were up from Georgia and in and out for a few days.  I also knew I needed to go to bed to be rested for the next day, so I did not blog.

Once again this year our Christmas dinner guests were just the Glasco-Archibald families and Dave and Katherine and Sam from Marion. There were supposed to be 14 at dinner, but granddaughter Erin’s flight was cancelled because of the weather.  That was my one big disappointment although we had had nice visit with her at Thanksgiving.  The Eilers celebrate in Freeport, and this year the Taylors were fulfilling their long dreamed of vacation in Hawaii. 

Christmas preparations were greatly reduced for me this year, but I put up the tree in the living room and decorated it.  Fortunately, Gerald put up the tree in the downstairs family room, so he wrestled with the light problem.  (A few years back I had replaced our trees with prelit ones, and this was the first time we had ever had a problem, but Gerald solved it.)  I added a few ornaments but left several boxes of them off intending to add them later. That opportunity never came. (The downstairs tree is the one that usually holds all the ornaments from our 56 years of marriage and that includes handmade ornaments by our kids and grandkids—including the ones they became creative with made of toilet paper tubes.)   Regardless, the tree looked pretty and no one missed the extra ornaments but me, and I am glad now I won’t have to spend the time taking them all off.  

I am reluctant to take the trees down although I used to do this New Year’s Day or the day after. (A couple of times I left the tree up until Old Christmas when the kids were snowed in and could not go back to school on schedule.) I note lots of outdoor lights still burning beautifully when I drive to and from town, so I have a feeling many people are wanting to enjoy their decorations longer. 

My holiday baking this year was limited to cupcakes from a mix that I made on Christmas morning.  I had some little sugar Christmas decorations to put on top of the icing (from a can of course).  I thought the little great grandsons might like them.  When I made the Thanksgiving pumpkin and pecan pies, I made enough to freeze for Christmas also and had them during the pre-Christmas visits even though our visiting children and grandchildren had made a point that they would not be around for me to cook for during the day. (They have lots of friends and relatives to also visit while here, and of course they are in and out of Gma Shirley’s house also.  The Archibalds left to make a trip to Chicago area to pick up Bryan and celebrate with all the relatives up there, but they returned on Christmas Eve.) With a cheesecake from the warehouse store, we had more than enough sweets for Christmas Day.

Although all the visits ended too soon, it was wonderful having the ones here who could make it. Gerald was able to give the three little guys lots of tractor rides, and Jake was able to go squirrel hunting with three generations. Sam had his first hunt and brought back a squirrel, which is now in my freezer for me cook one of these days.

The little boys so wanted it to snow while they were here, but they missed out.  Two big snows came after they left. Sam and his friend Josh had great fun playing in it since it had evidently been three years since we had had big snows. Gerald drove me to and from Katherine’s house to help there, and the snow-lined limbs overhead the country roads were beautiful in the truck’s lights. Roads are mostly cleared now, but the ground is still covered and roadside parking places are mounded by city’s snowplows. One of the prettiest sights I have seen was a perfect shaped pine in someone’s yard with brilliant colored lights shining through snow-topped branches.

I think many people were pleased to see the huge star back on the Harold and Novella Rix barn.  A master welder, Harold had made the star years ago, and seeing it was an annual tradition for people driving on the highway in front of their house. Their sons had left it for Mary Ellen and Brian to continue its use, and Brian made sure it was up along with the lighted tree that Mary Ellen had in the front room window.
This year provided one of the longer breaks since most local schools are not going to resume until Monday.  So the children have had lots of time to make snowmen and memories during this holiday season.

Christmas Letter 2012

I meant to post our annual Christmas letter earlier.  But then I haven't finished sending Christmas cards either.   (Well, almost all but local cards were in the mail before Christmas, which I felt was a noble accomplishment with the little free time I had.)  I love cards and letters so much during the holiday season that I really did not want to fail to send our cards.   If you don't enjoy end-of-the-year summaries, just skip this.  

                                                                      Woodsong Christmas 2012

Dear Friends and Relatives,

Here are some of the many happy happenings have brightened our lives this past year:  

Family gatherings at Easter and Thanksgiving,

Thanks to Tara and Bryan Archibald, three great grandsons to ride the tractor with Gerald and to charm Gma Sue,

Gerald’s breakfasts with his brothers and trips to softball games with nephew DuWayne,  

Gerald taking grandson Sam to  Knoxville to see University of Tennessee play basketball,

Celebrating Gerald’s birthday by going to Oxford, MS, and seeing the University of Georgia softball team sweep the three games there and seeing the three great grandsons there,

Sue’s traveling to Nashville with  Jeannie to Leslie’s senior recital and later to her bridal shower with the Eiler family, 

A wonderful May visit from Gerald’s sister Ernestine and her daughter Leah and little Emmy, 

Leslie and Mike’s college graduation from Belmont and Geri Ann’s graduation from Oconee High,

Having Geri Ann surprised with the National Softball Player of the Year trophy in an interview by Jessica Mendoza, and then watching the ESPN awards week which she and her parents were sent to in California,

Leslie and Mike’s wedding at our church in Crab Orchard with a party afterward in the barn on Brian and Mary Ellen’s new place-- the former Harold and Novella Rix home, 

Jeannie’s successful trip riding her bicycle from the Wisconsin border down to the confluence of the Ohio and Mississippi Rivers, 

Five grandkids here to help in Vacation Bible School at Center -- Cecelie (8th grade and violin player) Sam (sophomore and trombone player), Brianna (senior and clarinet player), and our two college sophomores--Elijah at Illinois State and Trent at Lincolnland,

Erin’s becoming assistant softball coach at North Texas State College in Denton, 

Seeing the fall colors and eating fish on the floating restaurant on the Ohio River,

Beautiful Brianna being in the Homecoming court at Lincolnwood High this month,

Other blessings too numerous to mention.

Nevertheless, our lives are drenched with sadness as we have had to witness the devastation that multiple sclerosis has produced for our daughter Katherine. Her suffering is difficult to watch, and yet she has to endure it--not just watch it.  Please pray that researchers might find a cure for this disease. 

We struggle to remember that Apostle John tells us he heard a loud voice saying, “He will wipe every tear from their eyes.  There will  be no more death or mourning or crying for pain…” Revelation 21: 4.  That verse is my scripture present to you. 

Love and Merry Christmas,

Sue

Katherine's Home from the Hospital

People are asking, so I better post to let you know that Katherine came home finally on Thursday.  We were originally told that she could come home Tuesday, which made me very nervous because I thought it seemed too soon although she was out of ICU on Monday even though they had no new room to move her to until Tuesday.  But we made all the arrangements to bring her home as we had been told.  In fact, they had even checked with the doctor to see if she could be out by noon to keep her 2 p.m. dental appointment. He said that was possible. When I got to the hospital early Tuesday, I learned that her newest INR reading showed her blood was too thin, so she would not get out after all.

I arrived at the hospital as early as possible Wednesday morning assuming she would be able to come home that day.  Someone unofficially told us her blood level was ok.  (Wrong. Actually it was still a wee bit high.) Her hospitalist doctor was off that day, and we waited for the substitute.  And waited. We were told he was on our floor before noon—but we never saw him if he was. Gerald was at home poised to drop everything and  go get her van as soon as we phoned him—the same as he had waited on Tuesday.  Finally late in afternoon, we gave up on being allowed to take Katherine home.  Actually I was not in any hurry, but she was. I felt she was safer in the hospital, but I felt sorry for her wanting to go home so would have welcomed that too.  At 6:15 that evening, I decided my day had been as long as I needed; and if the doctor came, Katherine could talk to him alone, which of course she did.

Again I arrived early on Thursday.  She was given the ok to go home, and we started gathering stuff and planning. It was amazing how much staff she had accumulated in a week’s time. Her dental appointment had been postponed until Thursday afternoon when we thought she was getting out on Wednesday.   Jeannie had texted that she would be down to help, and that took a big worry off my mind.  Gerald brought her home and drove her to the dentist in time for her appointment. I went to the drug store and filled two prescriptions, and called her aide that we were home.  The aide  came to help, and a friend brought a casserole.  I eventually went home to rest so I could come back with Gerald and Jeannie to help them get her in bed.  Jeannie spent the night.

The aide came Friday morning to get her out of the bed with the Hoyer, and when the aide went home, I came in.  Jeannie again came to help Gerald with the Hoyer and to spend the night again making the necessary adjustment that Katherine's pain requires.  Jeannie had spent some of her daytime sleeping time shopping for what she hoped might be more comfortable night wear for Kathy. I have been home both nights by 11, and I can sleep late again in the morning as I have the last two days.  Jeannie will have to return to the northern part of the state tomorrow as soon as she rests up for the drive. I will miss her.

Tonight’s blog should let everyone know that as far as the blood clots are concerned, Katherine is doing well. The multiple sclerosis  really does not seem any worse because of them. Since the MS and the constant pain was bad enough before the clots, we are grateful symptoms have not increased. That is a good thing.

We try to get daily texts to Katherine’s siblings, but I really do not have time to do more than that.  So just know if I do not blog or do not phone, things are going as well as we can hope, but there is just not time for much communication.

Getting Acquainted with the Modern ICU

 Since Thanksgiving, I have been away from home many days or nights at Katherine’s house. I have always dropped in to help some, but lately aides have had doctor appointments or other problems causing them to need to be off and we haven’t been able to get subs.  The night aide, who was coming at 12:30 a.m. after she got off of a full time job has had to quit, which I certainly understand. She would go home to take care of four adorable children after her two jobs were over, and I worried how in the world she was able to stand that schedule very long.

On Thursday, Katherine had what she thought was an asthma attack. She continued to have trouble breathing and was wearing her oxygen supply.  During that night she was aching all over and I finally decided she must have the flu.  Although I had heard a home health worker weeks ago say she would give Katherine a flu shot, I just found out that day that had not happened.  I don’t know why. That was a difficult night.

Her morning aide phoned both her primary doctor and the home health agency, and both said Katherine should go to the emergency room, where she spent the rest of the day getting tests, and then they admitted her to the ICU upstairs when they found out she had blood clots in her legs and lungs.  She was soon wired up with cords and monitors all over her, and those wires grew in greater numbers yesterday.

Needless to say, it has been a scary two days as they did a procedure with medicines to blast the clots and also put in filters to prevent any more clots going from her legs to her heart.  The plan today was to do a scan to see how successful they had been dissolving  or lessening the clots and to repeat this procedure if necessary. We received good news this afternoon when the scan showed much progress. The second “blasting” would not be given...At that point Gerald came on back to the farm.  

So then the nurses were to take out something they called slips from yesterday’s procedure and they gave her a pain pills to prepare her as they were to press hard for 30 minutes to stop  bleeding after the removal—and Katherine was to rest for three hours afterwards.  I started to go to the ICU waiting room when that started, but Katherine said she would rest better knowing I was going home to rest.  Since it was already getting dark and pouring rain, I was glad to do so.

Often when it rains at funerals, I comfort myself that nature is grieving.  As I drove home through the downpour today, a heavy rain which is so welcome to the farms and rivers here, I felt nature was joining in the celebration that we had received good news.
 
I was amazed at the freedom and liberality of visitation in the modern ICU.  I thought in ICU that family was restricted to 10 or 15 minute visits every two or three hours. (Maybe they still are for some conditions.) From the first, they allowed two visitors throughout the entire day with us leaving when asked because nurses had to give meds or other care.

Her three high school girl friends were there Friday when they moved her in and they let them all three stay!  After being up the previous night, I had gone to the farm to take a nap as I planned to spend the night since the hospital allowed people to stay during the night when she had been admitted there before. 

However, that was the one thing ICU did not allow, but very nearby was a quite comfortable ICU waiting room with rest rooms and lockers, coffee, and coin machines. The chairs pulled into beds and were being well used.  I did not sleep there, but I had to spend enough time there to get acquainted and feel comfortable. When her girl friends brought a beautiful bouquet matching the lovely lavender gift bag, the flowers could not be taken into her room.  Leah told me to take the arrangement home, but I suggested we leave it there so all of us and the others in the room could enjoy that beauty. (The gift was a sweet singing angel with three blue birds on her shoulders.  Leah laughed that the three birds represented her three bird-brained friends.)

I could not have disagreed more that those three young women were bird-brained.  They were my three angels throughout this weekend—making Katherine laugh and helping to adjust her arms and feet and comforting me in the ICU waiting room.   (We had told our daughters not to make the long trip down yet as we might need them more later.)

Anyhow that is why I have not been on the Internet.  So I decided I better blog tonight while I could. 

My 29th Birthday Celebration and Other Events

Gerald. Jake, and I are getting back to normal after the influx of family over the holiday weekend.  Jake had six visiting “cousins” or “nephews” as one of our kids figured out to call these visiting canines. “Cousins” is what we had always called the kids’ dogs when they visited at the same time. Then we got Jake. I like him just fine and appreciate  his welcoming greeting every time I arrive home, but I have a little trouble thinking of him as equal to my four children.  (One daughter said her dog would be Jake’s nephew.)  Nevertheless, while Gerald pets and sweet talks to him, I have heard Gerald calling him, “Son.”  However the dogs are related (or not), it is always fun to watch them interact, and I was glad they all got along.

Gerry arrived on Tuesday so he could hunt with his dad, and Jeannie came that evening with Elijah and Cecelie to be available to help me on Wednesday.  While Brian was in the field, Mary Ellen was over at her house on Wednesday cooking up a storm both for our Thanksgiving feast and the second one for her brother-in-law’s family on Friday, but she managed a visit with us each day anyhow.

Brianna and Trent had classes in Central Illinois on Wednesday, so they came later that day.  They slept at Woodsong, so they could be with their cousins. So did Sam.  Our newlyweds Leslie and Mike arrived from Nashville late that evening. Vickie, Erin, and Geri Ann were over at Gma Shirley’s but dropping in and out over here.  By Thursday noon, David had brought Katherine out in the van, and Vickie and daughters arrived with food for the buffet and flowers for my birthday to brighten the dining room.

Except for the five Archibalds who were entertaining Bryan’s family down at Athens, Georgia, all seventeen of us were  here.  I keep the two extra leaves in the dining room table all the time, so that it can seat ten if necessary and it frequently is. Gerald put the extra leaf in the kitchen table, and then eight can sit there.  It is noisy and chaotic when the family is here at once, but it means a great deal to me to be surrounded by these loved ones.

The last few years, our children have started carrying in extra food as a means of helping me, and we end up with more than we need. But that was very helpful this year because grandkids are now driving and, thus, coming and going to town at undetermined times, and Jeannie and I were alternating at Katherine’s house while aides were off.  So there was plenty of food on hand for people to help themselves with plates for the microwave or snacks off the dessert table.  I fixed left-overs  for sit-down meals a couple of times. Jeannie and Mary Ellen kept dishes washed up.

Gerry and Vickie and daughters and dogs took off Thanksgiving night after their second family dinner at Gma Shirley’s. Gerry needed to be at work the next morning.  They drove through the night with the women shopping as they went along.  At one point, Vickie joined Gerry in the truck and gave him a long driving break. On the way up, they had picked Erin up at the Atlanta airport, and I don’t know if she was able to enjoy a weekend in Athens with them or not before she flew back to Texas.  I forgot to ask, but it sure was good to see her as I have missed her terribly since she can no longer drop in like she had for the previous two years.

On Friday, my birthday, Gerald picked me up from Katherine’s. Stopping at the mailbox as we pulled into our lane, I was gratified with cards and letters as well as a present from my sister. As I walked into the house, the phone rang and it was my sister’s birthday call from Amarillo before their weekly Friday night dinner for their large extended family of kids and grandkids. I hadn’t hung up yet when the seven grandkids still at our house came into the room smiling and laughing before they disappeared into Leslie and Mike’s bedroom.  Since they always have some project going, I didn’t think anything about it. A few minutes later they came out singing “Happy birthday” with a beautiful cake from Larry’s saying:  “Happy 29ths birthday, Grandma!”  Gerry phoned to say happy birthday, and Mary Ellen dropped in and we all had a great birthday party with cake and ice cream and lots of laughter.

The laughter got louder a little later when the grandkids started cooking up their late night plans. They had planned even before they came to see Lincoln  together at the Marion theater.  Suddenly they were plotting again, and Sam was cutting out beards and top hats there at the dining room table. They carried up black construction paper they had found in their den downstairs—the junk room we called the “art room” when they were little.  One by one, the middle four of the seven found suit jackets from the dress-up closet and added their beards and tall hats, while adults respectfully (nervously) declined accompanying them to the theater.  We were glad Leslie and Mike were going along to keep them in line, and Cecelie looked so cute with the hair-do some cousin had given her that I was happy she did not spoil it with a top hat.

With the commotion of a big family, it is usual to run late, and they barely made it before the movie began. Leslie had to laugh when Trent put down his credit card, and the girl at the box office handed him the seven tickets without even asking which movie they were attending.  By then most seats were taken, so they were escorted to the very front accompanied by the laughter of those seeing four Lincolns arrive for the movie.  Knowing President Lincoln was well mannered, they remembered to take the hats off so they would not block anyone’s vision.  Phones were used by some in the audience to take their pictures, and Leslie loved telling that one mother warned her child to stay away from those weird kids.  We were all sound asleep when they came back late that night, but were relieved to learn the next day that they wern’t refused admission. By Saturday they had posted a photo of the Lincoln Four on Facebook and were already on to other plans. Aunt Mary had cleaned up the black construction paper scraps.  

I spent Saturday night at Katherine’s and only came home Sunday morning to get ready for Sunday School and church.  I was delighted to have Leslie and Mike and another young couple, A.J. and Jessie, in our Young Adult Class.  Since Jessie is very close to producing their second child any time now, there was some interesting visiting in addition to studying the final chapter of Peter’s second letter reminding us that the Lord is long suffering, not wanting anyone to perish but to come to repentance.  And I could again marvel that to the Lord, a day is like a thousand years and a thousand years is like a day.  Afterwards during worship, we loved hearing Leslie sing before concentrating on the pastor’s chosen text from Paul’s second letter to the Corinthians.

Jeannie took us all out for Sunday dinner at Cracker Barrel, so they could head on home immediately to northern Illinois and Leslie and Mike could go the opposite direction to Tennessee.  We dropped Sam off, and Gerald and I came home to rest. 

A huge white moon hung in the early eastern sky at 4:45 this afternoon as I left Katherine’s house and started toward the farm. I enjoyed it along with early Christmas lights as I drove through the darkening daylight. By the time I reached Woodsong, the moon was light golden in color. The beauty is always very welcome.  With life so busy, the time between one full moon and the next seems to be on express these days.  For me a month is like a day.  I do look forward to a new heaven and a new earth, and I suppose a life outside of time just as the Lord enjoys.

Most of the Gang Is Here!

Gerry arrived in a rented pickup yesterday at noon with four squirrel dogs for him and his dad to give Jake some hunting practice.  They have been at it off and on ever since being in the woods together and enjoying male camaraderie.  Gerry had gotten up at 3 to drive to Birmingham to pick up three new dogs there. Katherine asked in front of her aide, “Well, is he still bigger than life?”  I assured her that was still true, and we explained that to the aide.  Things are always exciting when Gerry is around.

Later in the evening when I came home from Katherine’s, Jeannie had arrived with Elijah and Cecelie. (Rick is going to Florida to be with his mother and two brothers for a family wedding down there.) 

Erin ran over this morning from her Gma Shirley’s in order to get her three-miles of running in. After a good but short visit, her dad took her back to Gma Shirley’s and brought Geri Ann over, who has now gone hunting with the men.  Jeannie is on her bike enjoying the beautiful summer weather we have today.  She was at Katherine’s until after midnight last night and will be helping there later today.  Brian and Mary Ellen are on the way down and have probably reached their Marion house by now.  Brianna had school today, so she and Trent will be arriving later today.  With all the coming and going,  I have trouble keeping up with who is here and who is where.

I had five pork chops thawed for lunch; and although I rarely fry anything, I decided an easy lunch would be pork chops with biscuits and gravy to go with the four-bean salad that I know Gerry likes. (The chops were good if caloric.) I opened a gallon-size can of peaches and made slice-off cookies for dessert.  Then I realized there were seven in the house at lunch time, so I left two pork chops whole for Gerry and Gerald, who had hunted all morning,  and cut the other three in half.  I knew the kids—all light eaters--would probably not eat an entire chop anyhow.  I was somewhat shocked at the end of the meal to see the two chops and one half chop left on the platter—but two had not eaten meat.   So before I put things away, I phoned Mary Ellen and Brian to say come over and finish up lunch here—but they had stopped to eat on the way down.  So there are two and a half chops left for supper to go with the ham I baked yesterday morning for the men to eat when Gerry arrived.

I just went up stairs and turned off the big pot of sweet potatoes boiling, so I can make the mashed sweet potato casserole tomorrow that Aunt Clela used to make—brown sugar and cinnamon with marshmallows on top.  When Gerry is here for a holiday, I always make that rather than candied ones. (When Gerald and I are alone, I only serve baked sweet potatoes, baked meat, and desserts made with a non-sugar product.)  Vickie will  bring the deviled eggs that Erin loves—me too. Ingredients are laid out for the green bean casserole that Mary Ellen usually makes for us, although she usually brings the ingredients; and if she did, I am ready for Christmas—the only two meals I serve green beans that way.

Facebook has been full of so many people posting a daily thank you for good things in their lives.  I did not participate, but I have enjoyed reading their posts and then thinking of my own gratitude for so much.  Right now I am enjoying laughter and beautiful music by grandchildren in the house.  Two of our three college grandchildren are studying special education. I cannot express the gratitude and thrill I felt as I listened to the two of them talking to each other about their participation in classrooms with special needs children.
To top today off, I turned on the news and found there was a peace fire between Israel and Gaza.  What wonderful news.

Gerald got the turkey from the freezer for me Saturday, and it should be thawed for me to put it in the pan this evening to be ready to place in the oven at 6 in the morning.  I made pies Saturday, but they are in the freezer except one I had kept out for Gerry’s arrival yesterday.  I may make some more tonight with store-bought roll-out dough, and just leave the frozen ones for Christmas.  I will see how this evening goes now that I have taken a break to rest and blog.

Droughts and Flooding--Always Something It Seems

Last Sunday night late when I drove home from Katherine’s, it was raining heavily.   I enjoyed driving through it because I remembered son-in-law Brian at lunch expressing the wish that we’d soon get more rain to insure the water supply for next year’s crops.  I knew how happy this rain was making him. And how it was increasing our future income.
Despite that knowledge of our need for rain to break the summer’s drought, I was somewhat surprised this week to see the newspapers full of concern that the mighty Mississippi River might soon be too low for river traffic unless some plans were changed over in Missouri to block the flow into the big river.

All my life from childhood on, the worries I have heard about this river were the floods. I remember with personal pleasure that our neighbors across the street had their relatives move in when the river overflowed.  The pleasure to me was that one of the older cousins there providing me with a new chum that summer.   Repeated floods for two or three years brought refugees into our small town. Stories abounded of the hardships families faced when they moved back to mud-filled hosues. After those years, visits to the Mississippi bottoms reminded us of the floods because there we saw some residents built their homes five or six feet above the ground.  Gerald lived at the edge of those bottoms and has stories to tell about the high school kids released from school to sandbag levies.

The first farm we lived on after we married was protected from the river by a levy that we drove down to get to our home.  The first night there I had a nightmare about driving on that levy, which was scary to me when the water rose up on the river side.  When the river was down, we were able to go over in a pickup to picnic in the woods on the river side.
After we moved away, we still were concerned when floods threatened because we had friends and family whose lives would be affected.  When our granddaughter Tara was a little girl, we would sometimes take her on Sunday afternoon outings while her daddy was away at his lodge in Mexico.  Once when the news about the flood told of the river up in the park at Grand Tower, like many other people. we drove over there to gawk in awe at the enlarged river.  Unable to get to the swings, children were playing in the knee high water over the driveway at the edge of the park, and we let Tara join them.  That night on television, I heard the warnings about how dangerous flood water was with all its contaminants.  I shuddered at my ignorance, and was always grateful that my prayer for her protection was answered.

In recent years, we have been made aware of the dangerous deterioration of the levies protecting that part of the state.  One of the teachers, Jamie Nash-Mayberry at Shawnee High School near Wolf Lake not only made the students realize the danger, but for two or three years, she has engaged them to try to correct the serious situation there.  Those kids are the reason I know about the deterioration—they made sure all the media outlets became involved. They wrote Oprah. They wrote their representatives and everyone else they could think of. The Corps of Engineers and legislators met with the kids in a public meeting.
We held our breath when floods were so serious that citizens of Cairo and others on the southern tip of Illinois had to be evacuated. Cairo was only saved at all because a levy was opened and flooded acres of farm land.  I felt sad for fellow farmers, but they farmed there with the understanding that this was what was to be done if the river got too high. No one wanted to breach the levy, but I was glad that the people of Cairo were not sacrificed anymore than nature had already done.

I was very impressed with this activist teacher and all she has accomplished with public awareness, but the danger remains and the levies are still in poor shape because of lack of money. I hope to meet Jaime Nash-Mayberry someday.  Most of all, I hope funds become available to do what needs to be done to save land, crops, homes, and families from floods. 
Now suddenly this week I learn that the danger to the river now is not flooding but drying up. As the saying goes, if it is not one thing, it’s another.

Just found this on Internet but haven’t time yet to read through it: http://www.shawneedistrict84.com/. 

Sad Times in Many Lives

Much to our relief, the gnats are no longer a huge problem at our house although a few can still be seen.  The orange and yellow leaves have mostly fallen, and the remaining leaves are mostly dull and brown.  But infrequently a bright red maple will still show up in someone’s yard.  There are two in Ken and Barbara Davis’ yard over on Sarahville Road, and I look forward to seeing these beautiful trees on the way to church in the morning.  Beauty is so necessary right now with so much sadness in our land.

Katherine seems somewhat stronger now and is gradually getting a fine fall staff in place.  I have spent more time there at her house during the transition from the college girls who cared for her last summer followed by her hospitalization. I will still be on call for subbing even though I cannot really do the needed work lifting her. One thing I have learned is that I am a very poor nurse.

In the third and fourth grade (when we were not fighting), my best friend Bobbie Jo and I used to talk about wanting to be a doctor.  I loved the play doctor’s kit I received for Christmas. Bobbie Jo and I were not sure women were doctors, so we said we wanted to do a doctor’s work but be called a nurse like her mother. Later after she moved away, I learned women could be doctors, and that was my ambition through grade school. My father was very encouraging, and I do not remember anyone being discouraging. 

By high school, however, I changed my mind because I was not sure I could be a doctor and also have the family I wanted. (I was always captivated by dolls and played with them way past my girl friends’ tolerance.)  Today I do not doubt that women can be very good doctors and good mothers at the same time.

Yet now I also recognize that I would not have been able to survive the difficult science and math curriculum that medicine would have required.  So I think it all worked out well that I became a homemaker and a sometime teacher and writer.  Yet I still hold those with medical knowledge in great respect—actually in awe--that they could know so much about the human body and the multitude of illnesses and problems that can damage it. 

Now I have also learned to admire and respect those nurses and caregivers who are able to empathize and understand patients on a even more personal level than the patients’ doctors can in the brief time most get to see a patient.  I know of some instances where nurses risked their jobs to step in and help a patient (sometimes behind the doctor’s back) when the nurse knew the doctor was making a mistake. 

I especially appreciate the caregivers that lift and care for our daughter, who can no longer walk. An excellent new aide had to miss one day this week when her cousin, 36, unexpectedly died following a routine surgery. The cousin left behind four children, ages 7 through 21. And she was the one everyone else in their extended family received help and support from.   Without insurance, her family is having a benefit tomorrow, so Katherine’s aide will again be needed by her family in her hometown.

In the meantime, Gerald and I have just returned from a benefit for a young couple who grew up in our community.  The benefit was planned before this outstanding man, who was in our youngest daughter’s class, passed away after months of battling bladder cancer—during which time he lost his mother also to cancer.

Just as the family thought things were going better after surgeries and treatment, he had a seizure, and it was discovered there was yet another inoperable tumor on or near his skull.   They had insurance, but months and months of travel and treatment are beyond most families’ ability to endure financially. This man and his young wife, who cared for him through this ordeal, were also the kind of community-minded people that many depended upon. Their work with scouts and servicemen and in their church at Woodlawn will never be forgotten.   Their cousins, neighbors, and classmates here in Crab Orchard worked hard preparing the barbecue meal, auction, cake walks, and raffles to exhibit their love and concern for Ron and Beth and their two children.

When I turn on the television, I see the horror that nature has done to millions in the Northeast.  One announcer started his report the other day by saying to us viewers across the nation:  If you have electricity, you are lucky.  He was so right. When I see the destroyed homes and realize the hunger and cold that many families there are suffering, I wish I were both rich and young and strong, so that I could go help. 

We will write a check to the Red Cross as so many others already have, and I will feel enormous gratefulness for the ones who go in to clean up and help just as people did and still do at New Orleans, Joplin, and Harrisburg.  Somehow someway all these devastated people throughout our land will survive despite their great grief for the loved ones they have lost and the homes they mistakenly thought their hard work had provided for their future.  When I turn on the lights, I will be grateful and say a prayer for those not so fortunate. And I’ll  put that check in the mail to add to the others that have already donated.  I will be especially grateful in the morning for those two bright red maple trees for the beauty they provide during these sad times in America. 

Glad to be Back Online

With no young grandchildren of our own in the community anymore and living far back on a lane, we have not have trick-or-treaters visit us for a few years now.  So last Wednesday in the late afternoon when I took my broken computer over to Megabytes, I really enjoyed seeing Herrin’s main street sidewalks filled with parents and children all dressed for the holiday and strolling together with buckets in hand. 

Then stopping at Katherine’s, I shared seeing  the costumed little ones coming to their house for candy.  I even enjoyed the two awkward non-costumed very young teenagers, who were obviously somewhat embarrassed at their own audacity at begging for candy—they only took one tiny piece from the bowl and one for a friend outside who evidently was less nervy.  (I could just imagine them cooking this up and daring one another to knock on the door. I smile just thinking about it.  I bet they had fun on this early evening outing—perhaps the first time without their parents along.)

As I drove back to the farm, I passed crowded church yards and parking lots, which seemed united in offering treats from car trunks as well as other activities and good times for the youngsters and their parents.  We’ve come a long way from the days of putting buggies on barn roofs, pushing over outhouses, or throwing corn on front porches.

I had taken my computer to the shop because I had sleepily clicked on something one late night and realized immediately I did not want to do that.  I thought I had cancelled the download, but a day or two later, trouble began.  The computer worked slower and slower.  I clicked on some sort of help site and saw in red the listing of the silly “who unfriended you” that evidently did download, but it seemed to disappear when I deleted it.

Nevertheless, the computer stayed slow and then would not let me open emails or do much of anything.  Thinking I had a virus or spy-ware, I took it to the shop.  They cleaned it up in a day although there was no virus, and I went over Friday and retrieved it. That night I had time to plug it back in, and excitedly I tried to open my emails. Nothing happened.  Oh dear.  Tried it again the next morning to be sure, but same results.  The shop was closed over the weekend, but I got a return call immediately early yesterday morning.  

Miraculously, the technician took over my machine and fixed it from his computer. The trouble was with the browser and not my computer after all.  So it is nice to be able to open emails and blog again. (And I like thinking my machine is all cleaned up.)

Brian and Mary Ellen were down over the weekend for him to do more harvesting and her to work on all the projects she has going in decorating their recently bought home over on Route 13.  We were spur-of-the-moment invited to stop in for a pulled pork sandwich with them for Sunday lunch, and I loved seeing all the latest improvements she has made as well as hearing about Brianna and Trent’s  Halloween party with an original  murder mystery they wrote for the guests to solve. 

As I pondered what to share in this blog, I realized you haven’t missed much as things have  been pretty slow at Woodsong.  In fact, sadly the most exciting event in our lives right now-- and I am embarrassed to admit this-- is our fight against the gnat invasion we have suffered.  The first couple of weeks, I just shrugged and assumed it was a seasonal thing, and this too would pass. We were having to be careful to keep fruit in the fridge and get banana peels out of the house as soon as possible. It only helped a little bit.
I have had gnats before, but they did not stay this long past their welcome.  Finally I googled and found they are actually flies, but nothing was said about a season for them. We were growing more and more agitated at those tiny ugly things. Gerald sprayed carefully once, but I am nervous about any kind of spray in a kitchen. 

When he called the other day from a hardware store in town to see if I needed anything from there, I suggested they might have some sort of gnat traps or something.  Sure enough, he brought home a box of the old-fashioned fly hangey-down things that are so distasteful to look at.  The first one was unsuccessful until he positioned a banana peel near it to attract the creatures. Now  we have added a second one with another banana peel in that part of the kitchen.  We have scores of dead gnats to look at on those sticky traps, and I am sorry to be responsible for their deaths.  But I sure am glad that maybe we are getting the little varmints out of our lives.