How bad can a gloomy day be when the first rhubarb of the season was plucked for a crumble dessert. It turned out great, and was the perfect oven companion with a roast. I must admit the warmth of the furnace on these cool days has been pretty sweet.
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Noreen
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Noreen
What an experience! I now know what it feels like to ride in a rumble seat of a vehicle. This all took place in the front seat of my Lincoln Town Car. My first impression was that the small city I was driving through really needed to do some street improvements. By the time time I was a bit further north on the highway, I had thoughts of being on the hay rack as my Dad took us over the plow fields to pick rock.
Who knew that air suspension bags located in the rear, under portion of my car would keep the mud flaps from dragging on the road surface.
I drove to a repair shop and I asked a young fellow if they took “walk-ins.” I had made the trip to Fairfax as a fun visit and the young fellow said, “Yup, no good deed goes unpunished.” Yes, Kevin I hear ya.
As the time ensued, my AAA driver, aka: Dennis, came to pick me up. Kevin will put my car up on the hoist for the repair. Dennis and I know this car has not cost more than oil changes and perhaps a brake job. The Lincoln will again be road ready for many more road dates.
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Noreen
I cannot believe it! I am setting the furnace to have it kick in. 58 degrees is just a bit chilly in the house. It was my idea. I am proud of Dennis that he had not suggested this earlier today. He is the chilly one, and I am usually the one who can take it on the cool side.
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Noreen
After a lightening show accompanied with thunder in the late hours of yesterday, there seemed to be more to come today. As it would be, Dennis just got our rain gauge up for the 1.7 inches to register.
If I tackle a window here and there, the task is not quite so daunting. Our tip-in windows really make sweet work compared to managing taking off a 64 inch storm window to replace it with the screen.
A hamburger pasta dish for supper sure hit the spot. I sauteed celery and onion and Dennis took it from there so I could stop in at Lorraine’s and take care of some things for her. I have had family members work through cancer, but I was not close geographically for frequent visits. Seeing the energy level lessen of this gal that loved garage sales and quilting . . . makes it easy for me to pitch in while still allowing her to call the shots. I can relate when she mentions that it is so hard to rely on others rather than doing for herself. I always come away being so thankful and grateful for her being in my life.
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Noreen
Thunder and rain this morning made it quite easy to sleep a bit later than usual. We did a run to Mankato for errands and enjoyed the farm chit chat as we drove and took in all the fields that have been worked and planted. From a distance they look as smooth as glass. Recalling the years I walked fields like that picking rock . . . looks can be deceiving.
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Noreen
We slept in this morning . . . like 8:45. By 2:30 this afternoon, we had quite a bit of yard work done. The next door neighbor’s fire pit took care of many small branches and the leaves from several of the gardens. Black Walnut tree wisps burn similar to dry straw. One more day of raking under the huge Oak and Maple trees will allow for the perennials to take over.
Dennis and I are “Steady Eddies.” No speed records are claimed here on Stauffer, just consistent movement.
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Noreen
A good day. I have been on the road three days out of four and am looking forward to staying on Stuaffer for the remaining days of this week. As of today, my friend Lorraine will not be visiting Mankato for any additional treatments for the Pancreatic cancer. Being in her home and as comfortable as possible is what she is seeking and I also want that for her.
The thunder is rolling overhead and more rain may be near. I do like the sound of thunder . . . as long as there are no threats of severe weather with it.
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Noreen
My Trade; My Tools
Webster tells us that the word “trade” is used to describe buying, selling, bartering, and occupations that usually requires manual labor. Oh my gosh! No wonder my tool box has sprung hinges so as not to be able to close the latch. I have put any or all of those definitions in play through my entire life, and many times on a day-to-day basis. From birth it’s as if we have tools of the trade ready to fire up at will. On second thought, I believe the gene pool has a lot to do with it and how we hone those gene pool tools throughout our lives.
During my childhood holding my own with an older sister and two younger brothers was an ongoing challenge. Elvera is six years older and you would have thought it was more like twenty years. There was indeed a pecking order. Calvin is three years younger than me and Michael is six years younger than me. When you put the difference of nine years and twelve years between the boys and Elvera there was no way she could be spared to contend with the boys as she was able to be Dad’s right hand for farm errands. Mom was a hands-on farm wife whether in the fields or in the barns and that put the target on me for taking care of the boys when just the three of us were left on the door yard. I bought the cooperation of the boys by being on board with some extra cookies while they played in the large sand box. Dad was a great welder and we had the best swing set in the entire neighborhood – complete with the two man horse-type ride. God forbid that I could squeeze in any time to ride our bike down the driveway and back without coming back to screaming boys, sometimes with a little blood showing, acting as if there was not a thing in the world to occupy them. I managed to barter my way out of being the irresponsible caregiver by giving them rides on the back bumper of our bike. No matter what the boys got into there was only one acceptable outcome as far as my parents were concerned: no one was to tattle tale and nothing that would require one of us being taken to the doctor. Surprisingly, your siblings can give you a very broad window on what your life will hold as you go forward: the good, the bad, and the ugly of it all. One does not have a choice but to go forward and take those tools and life’s lessons to be all that you can be.
In my early teen years I was thrilled to have connections in the retail world. Elvera worked at the S & L Clothing store in Hutchinson as a sales person and she gave me high marks in a referral for a part time job. Two weeks before that Easter, Elvera picked me and my brown paper bag lunch up and we went to work together. Five days a week from nine to five I wore an over-sized, over-stuffed Easter Bunny costume, greeting customers and handing out mints from my Easter basket and learning to scurry away quickly if any one child pulled my tail more than once. I was selling the wonderful atmosphere of the S & L store. I received five dollars a day and thought I had truly arrived in the world of opportunities honing tools for the future.
My forte was not selling in the retail world as a young woman. I found I was really good at a trade that included fluffy flannel diapers, burp bibs, and chubby little fingers that would hold onto my hair for dear life as I would straddle the little body on one hip doing household and farm chores. This was truly an occupation that required manual labor and I loved it. I mentioned earlier on that from birth there are tools available. I had observed my Mom’s skills as I was growing up and I had managed to pull a household together with the motif of early attic and household hand-me-downs that I and the kids’ dad was very proud of. The canning cellar had row upon row of gleaming jars, the stone crock held sauerkraut and the root cellar had enough carrots, onions and potatoes to hold us over the winter. The rest of the story is I was not fast enough to dodge a mouth full of rice cereal as it spewed out of a little mouth that didn’t have a single tooth in it. Or how about liquid vitamins that were given only an hour prior found their way down the front of my shirt, followed by big blue innocent eyes that crinkled just a bit as they met mine. I played softball all through grade school at the Renville County District 34 rural school, and as a farm girl I excelled in Physical Education during my high school years, but for the life of me I could not keep up with a toddler running loose after pulling off their training pants and feeling the breeze on their bare hiny.
Years went by way too swiftly and I continued in my trade of choice, growing my skills as my children grew. I once again tried selling as I thought it would supplement our income, but Fuller Brush was never going to have their stock skyrocket through my sales. The demo products did not go to waste as the spit and polish never seemed to be finished in our home.
Many hours were logged as I put forth manual labor on the sewing machine making clothes for the kids, pajamas for the entire family, sewing curtains, and lo and behold the menial task of sewing carpet rags whenever I had a chance. In the late ’60s it came time to put the treadle Singer Sewing Machine aside as an end table and move on into the 21st century with a new portable Sears and Roebuck electric machine. The kids always sported the very best that McCall’s Pattern Company could put out. Some day when Kevin and Kersten raid my attic and my cedar chest is opened, much like a treasure chest, Kersten will get a peek at some of the clothes that were sewn, including a set of shirt and pants Kevin wore in his early grade school days. I can’t believe what I was thinking when I embroidered the Mexican motif on the set, but I sold him on the idea that this was a good thing and he was smiles from ear to ear while wearing them. Yup, he made Mama proud. In the early ’70s farm-based moms were very innovative and creative. Now the Sears Roebuck sewing machine is taking second fiddle to a new Bernina sewing machine. While the Bernina is working on an embroidery project, the Sears sewing machine is right there for doing the piecing of yet another project.
Lots of water over the dam and many W-2 form jobs later, I still list my all time favorite and most successful trade as that of
being a mom – though I have had to tweak the applications a bit when mothering adults. For the most part I observe and hold my tongue. For the part that is not the “most,” I have spoken up, sharing my beliefs and thoughts. I can attest to the fact that sometimes I have had to live with the reactions of my actions. I can only admit to the fact that I am the person who loves them unconditionally with history that may be of comfort or help as I see a rerun of what I have lived through in the past. My Mom worked her whiles with me throughout her 93 years, and I too, plan on staying the course. Carrie, just turned 50, and Kevin in his forties, have spouses who stand beside them and I am very proud that each couple works as their very own team. It does make me very proud to see my kids interact with their spouses, showering them with loving respect.There are some words that I ran across reading bedtime stories to the kids that have stayed close in my memory: “If there ever comes a day when we cannot be together, keep me in your heart, I’ll stay there forever.” The author: Winnie the Pooh. That silly old bear was very wise. The life’s trade that I chose has infinite benefits that far out way any legally drafted unions. The trade of being a mother will never be downsized, never be outsourced and a mom’s love will never be out of stock due to lack of sales. As I continue with the many chapters that remain in the saga of my trade, I still have skills to hone as now there are grandchildren and grandpuppies that need me to continue being who I am, not withstanding my age, my arthritis and my cognizance. I dare not forget that with any job worth having, you never know when a surprise job performance evaluation could pop up. A bad review could cost me dearly in the hug department.
Please remember in life, give and have no remembrance of it, or take and remember it always.
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Noreen
As heavy as the air is, it would seem that just a pin prick into the clouds could bring a rain shower. I was sure with all the storms around us, rain wouldn’t be hard to come by.
Traveling to Mankato with a friend for a medical appointment, the air was filled with dust mile after mile. So . . . they say the farmers are three weeks ahead of time in their crop preparation and planting. It doesn’t seem to make a difference as the growing season progresses. Farmers who have spring fever, do not settle for anything less than bragging rights as to the number of acres tilled and planted at their coffee hangouts.
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Noreen
I could not take it any longer. My heavy winter quilt went out to the clothesline for a bit of freshening and a lighter weight one is now on the bed. There may be cooler nights ahead, but that is a chance I will take.
Slowly I am making strides in taking out some of the winter dust bunnies.
When Dennis and I were enjoying the morning coffee, it began as chit chat and before we knew it we were on our way to Mankato. The quest was for pedicures. We have used the same shop for several years with much satisfaction. We when walked in, we were recognized by the Vietnamese owner. Luck would have it as there were two chairs available. Other clients are shown to the wall of choices in nail enamel; she knows for us it is “no color.”
Dennis has feet that went through a lot while in Korea, mostly being wet 24/7 in cold conditions. My titanium knee don’t allow for the correct arc for me to do a good job of trimming my toes. So . . . the older ones on Stauffer don’t bowl, shoot darts or belong to card clubs for instant gratification. We treat our tootsies so they feel wonderful and carry us well. The massage and kneading of the legs isn’t all bad either. The very first pedicure in times past and Dennis talked me into it. One of the best road dates ever.
