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Noreen
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Noreen
Easter weekend brings time for self reflection —-
Easter weekend brings time for self reflection. It’ a good thing.
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Noreen
A New Season with New Zeal
Not all accomplishments come with fanfare that includes certificates. Today was the culmination of three years and three months of work to maintain mobility. Oh yes, I cheated the kids out of finding a nursing home that would contend with me. It started in January of 2011 when I fell and injured my left shoulder to the degree that it took two years of muscle strengthening before I could have surgery. I am right handed and I knew during those two years that my right shoulder that had arthritis damage was taking the brunt of day to day living.
It was a red letter day in April of 2013 when I finally became a candidate for successful reconstructive surgery. Again the right shoulder and arm stepped up as the period of time for zero activity of the left arm and shoulder was followed by weeks of physical therapy.
As anyone that loves to be outside and tackle projects, Dennis and I rebuilt a portion of our garage in the fall of 2013. Priming and painted were good exercise for the new shoulder to rebuild muscle mass that had become weak. As the fall wore on, the right shoulder caused the aspirin bottle to rattle more on a regular basis than was usual and customary. Just a freak event of lifting a coffee pot took the right arm to a screeching halt. Tests indicated scarring that the rotor cuff had been tearing away bit by bit for some time and the coffee pot finished it off.
Surgery of the right reverse shoulder procedure went well in January of 2014. Today, my physical therapist gave me my walking papers – not with a written certificate, but with a huge hug. After these last several years I am free of shoulder pain and I have very little restriction. It’s not advised that I run a jack hammer and there shall be no splitting of wood. I can live within those perimeters. From this time forward during this summer season the lawn raking, grass mowing and gardening will continue strengthening muscle and tissue.Dennis has made the comment that this has got to come to a halt. Two titanium knees and two new shoulders is enough. I second that. I am very thankful for the skill of surgeons and therapists. I am also thankful that my heritage has given me a huge amount of determination aka: stubbornness. Life on Stauffer is truly sweet.
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Noreen
My Sewing Partner’s Vacation Is Over
Megan’s first labor of love goes to her brother Nicholas
Today Granddaughter Megan’s spring vacation here on Stauffer Avenue has come to an end. From rural Stauffer Avenue she is headed back to Eden Prairie southwest of the metro. How wonderful that at the age of 10 she still enjoys blending right in to our home and our schedules.
When Megan first arrived she announced she had a plan to make a blanket for her six-year-old brother. We have made one together in the past for her, but I believe she had forgotten how long we worked at it. We had a window of four days and Megan and I agreed we were not going to be like the sewers in China by working day and night. Of course the big surprise was that she was handed over her very own foot control to her very own sewing machine. Lots of hugs ensued. After Megan had drawn out on paper how she wanted the blanket to look it became my job to find the fabrics and supplies in my stashes.
Sleeping in was the first order of business followed by taking time for a French Toast breakfast while watching an episode of Scooby Doo on the cartoon channel. It was totally hands on after that. Megan experienced the challenges of threading the sewing machine and getting the bobbin wound. I cannot believe how quickly she took to it. I was a bit jealous at how easily she could thread the needle — steady hands and her little nose right up close and personal.
As each step was completed, “quality control” was asked to leave the work site as this was a teaching, as well as a learning, experience. There are many projects ahead to learn the theology of perfect seams. The smiles from Megan as she saw progress were more rewarding that any W-2 Form job could provide.
The birds will have lots of bright materials for their new nests
It wasn’t all work and no play. Megan poked into a supply of yarn and we agreed some of the yarn balls were too small to make anything good but they sure would work for making snippets of yarn for the birds to find as the nest building season was just getting started. As luck would have it, the early spring weather was chilly enough that winter coats were still needed. Not all the quilt batting went into Nicholas’ blanket. Though the snow is gone there are tufts of white in our yards. What bird wouldn’t like to have a bit of soft batting to weave into the their new home?
While goodbyes were said today to Megan, Nicholas is going to be watching his schedule for his time to visit Grandpa Dennis and me. We will find out what his wish list is for the visit and the planning will begin. This is a full service activity center. After all, Megan says my basement craft area is just as good as what the Michael’s stores have to offer. It’s a good thing.
In life, please give and have no memory of it, or take and remember it always.
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Noreen
Feather the Nest with a Little . . .
Mohair Yarn Put Out for the Birds
Let’s go top notch and allow the birds to feather their nest with a little mohair yarn – from France, no less. We have Thrush birds that each year build nests under our awning on the west side of our home. This Lilac bush is directly under the awning and the birds will have a hay day finding these bits and pieces of yarn as it has been tucked into the branches.
While I was in the walk up attic yesterday, putting some items into storage, I also went through some storage containers. I not only found the started ripple afghan in my sewing basket that I posted about yesterday, I also revisited my yarn stashes. I knew I would never use this vintage mohair yarn that came from Esther Schafer, my children’s grandmother. It may have been a hand me down given to her. Of all of Esther’s crocheting, I never knew her to use mohair yarn. It would not have had the high utility as the durable yarns used for her projects that family and friends enjoyed. If she had plans that never came into fruition while she was with us, it became my inheritance when she passed in 1973. Now it is for sure vintage and being put to use.
I have always been careful in storing extra yarn as it was a commodity that was hard to come by when there were usual, unusual, and customary expenses during the time our family was young and we were farming. There is something within us that appreciates and still treasures those items that were indeed a luxury in times when resources were limited. It’s a good memory that serves me well to this day.
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Noreen
A Big Deal For Stauffer
I can not remember when we bought something new for the home. Today was the day!
Dennis has a wonderful west porch where he enjoys everything from Pawn Stars on t.v., his email and face book accounts and keeping track of the traffic as it passes by our home. All this is while he is sitting in his ‘command center’ chair. Son Kevin dubbed it that as it reminded him of Captain Kirk on Star Trek. The chair is totally made out of 2 x 4 lumber that has been varnished. In times past when we went to Indiana to visit one of Dennis’ buddies who had served with him in Korea, this chair was given to Dennis by his friend Rip. It sure was a good thing we had taken the pickup as the chair would never had fit in the trunk of the chair.
I digress. An upgrade of the television in the west porch was sorely needed. Dennis was watching his favorite shows on a 12 inch screen that we had purchased in 1992 with the option of also playing VCRs. That may will have gone on for a long time if it were not for the fact that the on and off button has been pushed so far into the set that the button was now in the black depth of the set.
Nicholas in the Command Center Chair
On day quite a while ago I heard from the porch “Grammie I need you”. Grandson Nicholas also enjoyed Grandpa Dennis’ chair while playing Angry Birds on the computer. How could you not want to have the Disney channel playing on the t.v. while enjoying the computer game. Alas the button was gone and Grammie could not help Nicholas get it back out. Fast forward to today.
Best Buy had just the ticket today and as soon as the new LED flat screen t.v. will arrive to their store for it to be picked up – Grandpa Dennis will be in high cotton. The commander in the ‘command chair’ will have been moved into the 21st century.
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Noreen
My Box of Unique Treasurers
My Box of Unique Treasurers
With a blog called Me Myself and Memories how could I not have some unique treasurers. Several decades ago I had gone to a trade show with Dennis and I was taken by turquoise jewelry that the Native American Zuni tribe of Pueblo Indians that live along the Little Colorado River hand crafted. The pattern was called Needlepoint. I acquired the belt buckle first and in time found a pair of earrings and then a ring.
When I was still working for Watonwan County, the mail brought a surprise from son Kevin. Working for and then going on to owning Herzog Printing, Kevin had found among old file drawers a pocket calender notebook from the year 1944 — my birth year. Very unusual that these notebooks were saved from one year to the next as new ones were printed and handed out on a yearly basis.
In the recent past Dennis has been going to trade shows solo and coming home letting me know he was thinking of me. First came the 1944 pennies, one of which is a 1944 D — marking the mint it came from. The nickel is a 1944 with 40% silver content. Coming home from the Sioux Fall trade show he could hardly contain himself. For Valentine’s Day he had a 1944 silver quarter and a 1944 silver half dollar. I can only imagine the shoe leather he wore out scoping out table after table of dealers. With me being a World War II war baby there were not a huge amount of silver coins minted. In 1944 there were no silver dollars made.
Once I was given these last two coins by a remarkable romantic cowboy, I knew I had to bring my goodies to one place for safe keeping. Dennis and I are a wealth of items to re-purpose and thus this box became my box of unique treasurers. Perhaps in time to come Dennis will find a 1944 dime. He has already been told “good luck on that.”
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Noreen
She Brings Thoughts of Spring
Sun Bonnet Sue in Her Glory
It’s not a new concept that mothers of small children need “me” time. I am not saying that it was a huge block of time each day when Carrie and Kevin were toddlers but I took what I could get.
We were full blown farmers in the mid 1960s with chickens, cows, pigs, ducks and big gardens. I was no different than any other farm wife and mother in our area. Farm houses brought no income to the family and that determined the work schedule and also Carrie and Kevin’s schedule. Meals and naps were not always at the same time each day but it always was a goal to attain. The first order of business every day was livestock chores that needed doing morning, noon and night. Though chickens only lay one egg a day, the egg nests were used by multiple hens. Those darn chickens would certainly decide if it was worth your time to pick the eggs out of the nests several times a day, because they would either scratch too hard to find the perfect spot to drop their egg and one would be broken all over the rest or they would poop in the nest. Payback was not good. Just like the family, noon lunch was always looked forward to by the young calves and dairy cows. Hay was needed in the bunks at noon and then Carrie and Kevin were the spotlight for lunch. It was all usual and customary.
Carrie and Kevin’s Dad , Orlin, had taken an off-the-farm job at 3M to supplement the farm income, and depending on which shift of the three possible shifts he was on, I was the go to person for the farm animal schedules combined with my kids and the house. Somehow it all fit into 24 hours of the day. I will say that the kids did get a lot of fresh air and wore themselves out to the point that naps and bedtimes were not fought. A nice warm washcloth on their face and hands after noon lunch and it was the peace that passes all understanding for me.
Orlin’s mom, Esther, was a crocheter and my mom was a quilter. I enjoyed doing them both. The dining room table was my area for play when the kids napped. The huge old dining room oak buffet was the storage spot for my goodies in between time. Somewhere along the line Esther got into fabric painting and of course it piqued my interest. All I
had to do was rearrange my buffet and there was room for one more hobby I could enjoy when time allowed. Tri-Chem oil paints for fabric painting was fun and allowed for being creative. It was resilient for being washed and Esther enjoyed using the paints on dish towels rather than everything being embroidered. Who used dish towels that were not embellished? Esther kept her mind young by embracing new ways to do what she enjoyed. Her wares were sought after by people in Hector to be used as shower gifts for bridal and baby showers.With Esther and my Mom as role models, of course I found “me” time. Tri-Chem was the craft I could pull out from the buffet in short order in a small contained box and while away time when the kids were napping or off to bed at night. My sister, Elvera, had sewn herself a rose-colored shift dress (strait design with seaming and darts for form fighting). Elvera ask me to paint Sweet Pea flowers and vines that would cascade diagonally down the front of the dress starting at one of the shoulder seams. It turned out great. I enjoyed the creativity of it all and decided to mix the quilting with the painting and thus came about Sun Bonnet Sue quilt blocks to paint and then incorporate into a quilt top.
Sun Bonnet Sue Ready for Spring
The Sun Bonnet Sue quilt top had been in the cedar chest since the late 1960s. Before I had shoulder surgery I took the quilt top to the Old Allie Quilt Shop in Sherburn, Minnesota, for Sharon to work her magic. When Sharon called several weeks into the recovery of the surgery that she had it done, it gave my spirits a lift to no end. Sharon’s quilting did not disappoint and I was thrilled that Sun Bonnet Sue was brought to life for enjoyment. Looking at the quilt made the coming of spring seem possible after this long cold winter. The finished project and the bright spring colors just make me smile. Dennis could not believe the outcome and thought it might be too pretty to use. Sun Bonnet Sue has seen the last of her dark storage world. Our west porch bed will welcome her with open arms.
Considering my stashes of creativity it’s no surprise that I still have the Tri-Chem paints. I have used them over the years but with no huge project in mind. There in the cedar chest, next to where the Sun Bonnet Sue quilt top had been resting, is 12 Overall Sam quilt blocks. I had started them, but life happened along the way. There may be “the rest of the story” to come.
In life, please give with no remembrance, or take and remember it always.
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Noreen
A Few Therapeutic Stitches with Lots of Memories
The Spring Kite Adventure
At the time when I found out I was going to have surgery, I did prepare a few items that I could tackle as time went on in recovery. I had saved a few finishing stitches on this wall hanging for just this time. This particular panel had caught my eye as I could so easily link this print to actual events in times gone by.
When Carrie and Kevin’s dad Orlin worked at 3M in Hutchinson they often offered promotionals that were linked to products in their tape lines. Orlin brought home several black vinyl kites in the shape of bats. The vinyl was very much like the 3M electrical tape. What kid does not like to break out the kites when the spring breezes turn to warming winds.
When school schedules would allow, Kevin’s cousin Eric would stay with us and the boys made sure there were fun adventures and thus one of the kites came out of the wrappings. Orlin and I had a four harness rug loom at the time and the warp string used in the rug making process made for ideal kite string. A spool of rug warp slipped perfectly on a round dowel and the boys were ready.
The kite found the perfect gusts of wind and they played with the kite off and on during the weekend and the cool spring air plus some cookies in between made for a lot of fun. I occasionally would look out the window to the north to check on them and at one point I did notice they were venturing out into Bob Dascher’s plow field on various flights. The worst would be very muddy boots to clean up. This afternoon the yelling and screaming brought me up short and I realized they were far out into the plow field. I found boots and went to find out what was going on not knowing what I would find. The winds were perfect and the spool of warp on the dowel was turning like a well oiled wheel. Both little six year old boys were in tears and it took me a while to realize they both were man handling the dowel by tugging with all their might and as they tugged they were walking farther into the plow field. Where was the kite? Far, far off to the north was a little black speck in the sky. The bat kite had taken flight like no one would have ever suspected and the loom string was proving to be strong enough not to snap but not strong enough to reel in the kite. The roll of loom string had 500 yards on it and in the end if I remember correctly we had to cut it and cut the lose of the 3M vinyl black bat.
As I said earlier this wall hanging just brought back the adventures of Kevin and Eric on that spring day. All three of us were quite muddy by the time we were back on dry gravel land. Their tear stained cheeks had soon chapped in the brisk air but they had fought the good fight. Oh for memories and let’s hear it for 3M products.
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Noreen
Big Time Team Players
Always Up for a Challenge: My Hands
There is no chance that I take my hands for granted. Talk about team players. They step up to the plate regardless of the challenge literally at hand. The result of a lifetime of hard physical work is often targeted to our hips, our back, and of course what I can recently attest to is our shoulders. When the tasks are needed to be completed, the brain sends its message and more often than not the hands are the implements that carry the whole thing off.
There was nothing that set us apart from any other family of farm kids. The end of a pitch fork was second nature. The twine strings holding an 80-pound alfalfa bale were tackled many times before we thought to look for a pair of the yellow fuzzy chore gloves. By the way, they came in one size: “huge.” Garden tillers were also known as “a kid with a hoe.” Most Saturdays mom had me in the kitchen baking bread for the week that was to come. As I was in 4-H, the record keeping process included such a weekly task. Dough hooks on standalone mixers were not in our home and the hands tumbled and punched that dough to perfection.
I have no doubt that as the four pair of extra hands, aka: children of Raymond and Lena, left home there was a need for a second look at how things were accomplished on the farm. I also know that we returned many times to lend that hand when we were needed or if there was even a hint that we could give extra help. There came a time when my brother Michael took over the farming operation and my Mom and Dad continued enjoying some of their life’s passions as they took life a bit easier.
When I met my children’s dad I had star dust in my eyes and we struck out for Texas almost as we were on a mission to homestead us an acre of land – which we did. The acre of pasture had city water and sewer up to the property line and the rest was up to us. The blessing is we did not have to fight the frost line as is in Minnesota, but the little chicken house that was soon to be our home was towards the back of the acre. The Pundt Hardware in Riesel, Texas, sold each of us a shovel and we went about the task. My hands had quite the workout, and as my fingers became more slender, my high school graduation ring slipped unnoticed off my finger and is somewhere within the lengths of those trenches.
Through the 1960s Orlin and I experienced farming and having babies. The hands that used a pick ax to get frozen silage out of the silo for the milk cows gently caressed the little bodies of Carrie and Kevin when hugs were needed as they would follow behind me wherever I went on the farm site, getting their fair amount of bumps and bruises. Their tiny hands in mine: priceless. Holding them close as they loved being rocked to sleep for naps: more of a blessing than can be retold. As Carrie and Kevin have grown into adults, the warmth of their hugs as I pull them close to me with my hands on their backs give so much back to me. When grandchildren Megan and Nicholas slip their hands into mine I can’t believe the blessing they have brought into my life and I know I want more of that.
Many times as I continue enjoying my passions of sewing and handwork the hands need a bit of encouragement to get those fingers to bend and twist in the motion that is required for a finished product. That finished product takes longer to achieve than it used to, but I don’t mind. In life it is all about “if you don’t mind, it doesn’t matter.” I have the will to continue trying new crochet patterns and new quilt patterns and I do not want to let go of the hand quilting. Twelve stitches to the inch is the goal. That would be the goal of a perfectionist, but not my goal. I know when to take some projects to the Old Alley Quilt Shop in Sherburn and when to still take that literal stab for my hand quilting.
Arthritis Loved the Thumb Joints
When I had this story rumbling around in my head I knew I would want hubby Dennis to be my photographer. Taking the photo of my hands lying flat on the dining room table was a no-brainer. When trying to take a photo of my open hands, it hit me just how much arthritis has enjoyed having its way with my hands. There is no longer the ultimate open palm to display. Wow. It took me back a bit, but only for a moment as I know the plans I have on the back burner for these hands and these ten fingers, somewhat swollen with arthritic joints. As I said, I was somewhat taken aback as it was as if I was looking at my Mom’s hands and how they looked in her later life.
Team Stauffer
My wedding ring has been made larger and must be worn on the middle finger as the ring can’t make the bend round the skewed knuckle. Everyday I wear my wedding ring to Dennis and also the wedding ring my Mom wore until it would not fit her expanding knuckle joint. I take encouragement every day in struggles that may come up just by having Mom’s silver band next to the band that shows me how important Dennis is to me. The decision for the second shoulder surgery could not have made without knowing that Dennis would be there every day, and not only predominantly for the physical help that comes as a part of my recovery. To this day and every day I need Dennis’ strong emotional support when mine can wane. I need the humor that Dennis offers when there is enough vanity left in me that I have humiliating and embarrassing thoughts and actions. Dennis allows me to laugh at myself after his eyes have met mine and I see the twinkle in his brown eyes and the laughter just busts out of both of us. I need the strength that Dennis offers as he leaves me to my own to get in and out of clothes when the lime green bathrobe is begging to be laundered rather than him jumping in for the helping hand. Yes, we made this decision for surgery as team players, knowing that as weary as the hands may be, they can go on to do many, many things to come, but once the shoulders were gone, the hands would pay a huge price. In closing up this story, I think my left hand with a bit of help with the right hand confined to a sling did just great.
I love being a part of the team that lives and loves here on Stauffer Avenue.
In life, please remember to give and have no remembrance of it, or take and remember it always.
