Music Notes

It's another glorious fall day – bright and sunny, not overly warm, breezy......just about perfection! We had a nice, quiet weekend. We deliberately stayed home Saturday – it was Carrollton's annual Band Day. For a small town, we hold what may be the largest Band Day in the state on the fourth Saturday of September every year. It's not unusual to have in the neighborhood of 70 schools participating. However, that makes for some crazy scenes around town as streets are blocked off, the area for blocks around the school is loaded with school buses, people unfamiliar with town are trying to navigate from the town square (site of the parade contest) to the school (everything else). It's safer to just stay home!

I decided to do some cabinet cleaning today. Hubby was eyeing that process warily......he's never sure how much trash there will be for him to deal with when I get in a cleaning mood! I sorted through and discarded a bit of Tupperware – I figured those pieces that are older than my kids probably need to go! I have a cabinet in the kitchen I want to clean out now, and maybe switch some stuff between it and the one I've already cleaned out. But hubby is downloading a new operating program on one of his computers – on the kitchen table – so I'm trying to keep my distance from that.

Getting off the bus at home on these warm fall days was always a little tough – I was so ready to be out of the classroom and outside! I wanted to play, to feel the breeze, ride my bike, maybe go with Dad to find the milk cow. But there was homework. And for the fall of my fifth grade year – there was piano practice.

Don't get me wrong, I've always loved playing the piano. But I always wanted to play it for me – what I wanted to play, when I wanted to play. It doesn't work that way when you're taking lessons. Mom would finally bribe me with TV – that was about the only thing that would get me to practice those scales, the promise of TV afterwards.

I never had many piano lessons. The summer between first and second grade, I took lessons from our close neighbor. Twice a week I would walk to her house with (I believe) 50 cents in my hand to pay for my lesson. I was young enough that the practice didn't bother me as much then. The next time I took lessons was the summer between fourth and fifth grades – our neighbors up the hill (kind of surrogate grandparents for me) paid for piano lessons as my birthday present. Somehow, that summer of lessons lasted into the fall. That fall recital was my first – and only – recital. And oh, how glad I was! Memorization is NOT my thing, and it made me nervous almost to the point of being sick!

My last attempt at lessons was my first semester of college. I think the poor keyboard teacher (who actually was my favorite teacher in college) was extremely happy when I told her I was only taking one semester!! By that time, I'd developed a lot of bad habits. And I didn't know those hated scales. I'm much happier playing for me, just however I “feel” the music.

Evidently, bad habits or not, I did okay with the piano. During high school I played for both boys' and girls' music class and glee club. I accompanied for school programs and music contests. I started playing for church when I was 13, and was doing funerals by the time I was 16. And by 17 I'd done my first wedding.

When I took typing in high school, we began on manual typewriters. The teacher said she could always tell who'd taken piano lessons, because they had stronger fingers when dealing with the manual typewriters. I'd never really thought of my fingers as “muscular” until then – but probably my kids would say they are.......I used to signal them to quiet down in church by thumping the ends of their noses. They always said it hurt!

Friday Night Lights

Ahhh, a sunny, breezy Friday afternoon. Not a bad day, considering it's our “second” Friday this week – hubby and I both felt like yesterday was Friday! Even with the sunny warm weather, there's still a feel of fall in the air.

Fridays during school were always fun. We looked forward to the two days away from school, even though we expected a little heavier homework on the weekends. But during the fall and winter, Fridays were sports days. If we had a home game, that meant the smell of yeasty doughnuts cooking in the basement Home Ec room. If it was an away game, we could likely look forward to getting out of school early. I hated it later on when the state said we couldn't get out early on game days – we were just trying to get kids home so they could eat, change, and be back for the team bus. We had a couple of really long bus routes.

Our fall softball games were fun. There were a few bleachers, usually left for the grownups. We kids would scatter along the grass on the first-base side of the field. People would also park along both sides of that street, and some would watch from their cars. The younger kids would play, the adolescents would flirt around with one another. The younger high schoolers tried to act more grownup, and the juniors and seniors would likely be working the concession stand.

Once I got into junior high, it was really important to be part of the crowd and attend those home games. I don't remember getting to do it much before then – we always had that “ten miles to town” drive. But, bless my folks, they understood that once I hit junior high it was important to be part of everything.

Softball season was only a few weeks long – it seems like we were done with that by the end of September. There were eight schools in our conference, so it didn't take too long for each school to make the rounds, then we finished off with the conference tournament. Then we had a short break until basketball season started.

I remember very clearly one Friday night in September 1966 when I enjoyed a softball game a little too much to suit my dad. My grandfather had passed away early that morning, and the rest of the family was at the funeral home both Friday and Saturday nights - the funeral was on Sunday. I was 13 and had just started 8^th grade – plus, I'd just buried my other grandfather that June. So I'd had enough of funeral homes! I walked from the funeral home up to the school for the softball game, then went back to the funeral home when the games were over. Dad wasn't too happy with me.

Basketball season started in November (maybe October for junior high) and finished up with tournaments in February. The concession stand was open during the junior high games, so the juniors and seniors spent a lot of time in the school lunchroom serving up doughnuts, pop, and candy. It helped my transportation situation a lot when we moved into my grandmother's house – next door to the school, no less! - in November of my junior year. That made me one of the go-to people to open up the concession stand and work the pre-game time. I always enjoyed it, so it wasn't a problem.

My folks took me to the basketball games as well before we got moved into town. I remember a time or two we started to the game but turned around at the blacktop and went back home because it had started snowing. There was no way we wanted to be stuck in town if it snowed!! I would feel like I had missed a major social event.

Once my kids got into junior high, I could still enjoy fall Friday nights because they were playing in the marching band. So I had a good excuse to head to the football field and be part of the Friday night local sports crowd. Even as a grownup it was a fun social event.

Straight Seams

My freshman year of high school was kind of exciting for me. After a long eight years, we could call ourselves high school students. And as an added bonus, we girls got to take Home Ec and learn to sew. The cooking part of Home Ec was okay, but I had been cooking for years. That's not to say I didn't learn new things in the cooking section of the class – but I wanted to learn to sew.

In the Midwest farming community where I grew up, it seemed like every female sewed. Some sewed better than others and made almost everything, while others kept the family mending done and could make a few basic items.

I'd played around for a few years with the suitcase full of fabric scraps that nestled under the bed in the spare bedroom. Mom had an old treadle sewing machine, and I'd watched her and knew some of the basics of how the critter ran. I tried to creatively put together fabrics and make dresses for my dolls.....but without knowing the details of how to make sleeves, pockets, and so forth, my creativity was lacking.

We started out freshman year Home Ec with sewing. We learned the very basics of the nifty electric machines in the school room, then our first project was making an apron. Since I usually lean toward some shade of green as my favorite color, I got a light green gingham. The aprons were pretty basic and a good starting project – hem three sides of the skirt piece, hem and sew on two front pockets, then gather the skirt and add the waistband/ties. Simple. Unless, of course, you'd never sewn before and couldn't make a straight line if your life depended on it.

I'd like to state right now that I was an absolute expert at ripping out seams by the end of that class year! We progressed, some of us more slowly than others. It didn't seem fair that we had two sophomores in the class who were in their second year of sewing. That was the first year there was Home Ec offered to the sophomore girls, and dumping them back in with the novice class was the only place in the schedule. Add to that a new student who had joined us in eighth grade who had previously attended a school with 7^th grade Home Ec.......and her mother sewed for people all the time. The girl was a whiz! I really didn't feel like I needed any help looking bad in that class!!

I think after our aprons, we moved on to a house coat – our introduction to making buttonholes on the sewing machine. Sadly, our old machine at home didn't do that, so I was limited on anything I made outside of class. We went on to a skirt and blouse and then just general sewing. I still was BFF's with my seam ripper, but I was getting better. All in all, I was quite relieved when that class was over. But I didn't lose my love of sewing.

Our local JCPenney store had a great fabric department, and I could spend hours looking through the pattern books and picking out fabric. Throughout high school, we had a “dresses/skirts only” dress code, and I made most of my school clothes. Even when I was in college, I would find an occasional pattern I liked and pull out the sewing machine when I was home.

It's been years since I've sewed anything, and some days I miss it. I liked the creative process. It was an ability that came in really handy when the kids were small. I could take the tiniest fabric scrap and make pants or a top out of it for them. By the time #3 came along, I even made a few sleepers off a versatile pattern I found.......a versatile pattern, to a mom with very little cash flow, means patterns for several different items in one envelope!!

My sewing ability even helped on several costume occasions for the kids – a renaissance outfit, a Christmas elf, a pilgrim, a dinosaur.....even a couple of fancier costumes for a high school musical. I think the last thing I've made is curtains.......maybe it's about time to dust off the sewing machine and see what I can do!

Wasps And Superintendents

Another glorious fall day – a good day for a drive to Chillicothe, topped off with taking Mom to Dari Maid for a chocolate malt. Yum-yum!

I had my annual eye exam today. And believe me, no one will ever call me a “cheap date”! Last September I got new, stylish glasses – Paula Deen frames. Today, I ordered new glasses again. Considering I have trifocals, plus a prism in one lens – they don't come cheap!! Just once I'd like a pair to last three or four years! Oh, well, it's worth it to be able to see clearly!

We were having lovely fall days like this my sophomore year of high school. The sun was shining, the breeze was blowing, and all the windows upstairs in the study hall were to the top. My seat was near the back of the room. One day I was leaning forward on my desk to study, which caused a small gap on the back neck of my dress.

When I sat back, the wasp that had flown down the back of my dress panicked and started stinging. Now, I had a long history of being stung – often multiple times. But this time was different, because almost immediately after the sting, I felt very sick. I don't remember who was on duty in study hall, but I managed to get verbal approval to run to the bathroom. The bathroom trip wasn't necessary, but I still felt awful.....woozy and lightheaded. I went to the office and told them what happened.

Mr. Sugg was not a person to get excited. But for those of you in my age bracket, you will probably remember that his son Stephen was allergic to bee stings. In fact, he'd been stung that summer while putting up hay and had ended up in the hospital. So Mr. Sugg came to as near a panic as I ever saw. We still lived out on the farm, ten miles from town. Dad was working in Carrollton. Mom was at home, but with no phone and no transportation (and no driver's license).

Mr. Sugg loaded me up in his pickup, and we headed toward the farm.......by the most meandering route I think anyone could find! I'm sure in retrospect he was just keeping an eye on my symptoms, to see if he needed to take me to the hospital instead.

He talked to me the entire way home and just generally didn't seem to get in a hurry. But when we got to our house, he walked me from the pickup to the porch. And he stayed and talked to Mom awhile, instructing her on what symptoms she needed to watch for. He ended by telling Mom if she saw any of those symptoms, to get up the hill to the neighbors' immediately and give him a call, that he would come get me to the hospital.

As I look back on that, I wonder how many other superintendents would have done that. Maybe more than I think. But Mr. Sugg was one of a kind. If it weren't for him, we wouldn't have known what symptoms to watch for after my allergic reaction. If it weren't for him, I wouldn't know how to do an about-face.......remember how he always had us to military drills when he subbed for P.E.? Right face, left face, about face!

If it weren't for Mr. Sugg, I would NEVER have attempted to take chemistry my senior year. Luckily, one other senior and I managed to talk our way out of it mid year! Mr. Sugg knew me pretty well, and I always felt like he liked me. In my senior year, I played softball. I hadn't played up until then, because I had no transportation for practice. But once we moved into town during my junior year, transportation was no longer an issue. When I asked Mr. Sugg if I could participate in P.E. class for just the first quarter so I was eligible to be on the softball team, his reaction was “Dorsey, why are you trying to play softball, you can't run!” He had a good laugh at my quick reply of, “I hit the ball far enough that I don't have to run”.

It was always easy for me to know when I went one step too far with him. Normally, he called me “Dorsey” - but if I did or said something that went over his line, I became “Edwards!”....Mom's last name when she had him as superintendent her senior year!!

Places Gone

As I was writing yesterday's blog, I thought about the cousin who visited Jefferson City and drove by Grandma and Grandad's house. He reminded me on Facebook last night how sad the neighborhood looks now. Even though I've been back to the city as an adult, I didn't make any attempt to find that old neighborhood. And I'm that I didn't, so the neighborhood of my childhood remains intact in my memory.

It's the same way with the farm where I grew up. If you drove by that site now, you could hardly tell there was ever a home there. My cousin bought the farm from my folks 35 years ago. My folks continued to live there as long as they were able. But when they were no longer making their home on the farm, all the buildings were dozed down. The house, the barn, the old outhouse, the storage shed behind the house, even the cellar was caved in and leveled off.

The big old oak tree that was at the west edge of the yard was still standing the last time I went by the farm, and there is a water spigot where the yard used to be. It's tough to top that hill and not see the farm nestled at the bottom of the hill. Actually, the top of the hill doesn't look right either – I don't think there's anything left of the home that was there.

So many homes of my childhood are nonexistent now. It's hard to drive by the old Hart place and not see that magnificent two-story home on the hill across the road from their lake. That was a cool house. I'm glad to be Facebook friends with classmate Jim and see the pictures of his home in Brookfield – another magnificent two-story home, which is exactly what I'd expect from him.

I grew up going to church at Mandeville. At that time, there were a few buildings there. The brick church is still there, as is Greggs' house. But the old school is gone, as is the old church (Presbyterian, I think). Wampler's store is no longer there – there were two buildings, the regular store and a feed store. The Isaacs home is still there, but the Graham house is gone. I think the Wampler home still stands, and the “new” Barker house is still in good shape and home to a young family.

I think the hardest place of my childhood for me to visit is Bogard. Oh, my, where do I start? The main school building is gone, and so is the gym building. My grandmother's house, where we lived for a few years, is still standing but is empty and overgrown. The churches are still there, though one is now housing a soap making business.

The downtown area, though, is pretty much a ghost town. It's hard to drive down that main street and try to describe to hubby what a bustling little place Bogard used to be. Murphys live in what used to be the hardware store; otherwise the downtown buildings are pretty much empty. I remember what fun it was to go downtown when I was in grade school. The bank was on the corner. There was a restaurant, body shop, hardware store, Les Babcock's feed store, the grocery store, the furniture store, the funeral home, Mrs. Baggs' notions shop. Beyond that was the big old house that had functioned for earlier generations as the local hotel. The train tracks still ran through town – the train went through on Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday.

As teenagers, my cousin and I earned a bit of spending money doing the music for funerals – he sang and I played the piano. I hate to tell you how excited we could get when we saw the outside lights on at the funeral home – the signal that they had a “client”. We could really startle friends who came home from college with us with our reaction to those lights when we drove in. In a small town, you earn a buck wherever you can!

Hopefully I'll never lose my memory – but if I do, I hope I can hang onto that little corner where the places of my childhood stay!

Jefferson City Memories

Fall seems to have hit the Midwest, which is wonderful. We had another blast of heat last week, but it has now cooled down to what I consider perfect fall weather. Today, it's sunny and mid 70's, with a nice breeze blowing. It was like that all weekend – the only hiccup was when we had to shut up the house and turn on the air because there was smoke blanketing the neighborhood. It turned out to be a house in the midst of demolition – hopefully the fire was intentional, but you never know.

We had a pretty quiet weekend. Yesterday afternoon we took Mom to Independence for a memorial service for one of her cousins. That generation of our family has drastically reduced from the original 26 first cousins. It was a nice service and we enjoyed the Sunday afternoon drive.

I'm in the final week of my online class.....really, it's final week! The final exam for the course will be available online by 6 pm Friday, and then I have five days to take and submit the exam......50 questions, worth half my total grade. After the assignments of the first five weeks, I'm solidly on 90% for the class.....so I'd have to really blow the test in order to not pass the class, but I can miss five questions and still finish “with distinction”. My fingers are crossed – but it would probably help more if I'd start studying!!!

It's probably because I've started writing this blog, but it seems every time we're with family now, memories are triggered. It's kind of fun, because memories are surfacing that had long since been lost in the gray matter.

Last week I talked about my grandparents living in Jefferson City. The week Mom and I spent with them each summer was a real highlight for me. That gave me the opportunity for all sorts of things I didn't experience at home. I can still remember the address of their home – 1230 Adams Street. A block from their house was a baseball stadium for the Jefferson City Jay's.....I'm not sure what level baseball that was, but I remember the stadium. Jefferson City High School was built two to three blocks from their house during the time they lived there – the last time I checked online, that school is still in use. I was reminded last night of getting to use their phone to call the Time & Temperature number, a real treat for a kid with no phone!

I always had money for the ice cream wagon that went by......in some years there was a sno cone truck, and some other things. But the ice cream wagon was my weakness. Central Dairy delivered milk to the box on my grandparents' front porch. There was a beautiful mimosa tree just off their front porch, the first mimosa tree I encountered. I still have a soft spot for them in the summer.

There were so many kids in the neighborhood that were around my age. Jay and Beverly Schatzer lived down Union Avenue about half a block, Tommy and Renae Stone lived about half a block up on Adams Street. But the jackpot was right across the street. There was a duplex across the street with two families and all their kids.........a brother and sister had married a brother and sister. Alfred and Nordell Lookinough lived in one side of the duplex with their five kids; Norman Sanning and his wife (oh, my goodness! I can't believe I can't think of her name, she was so nice) and their three kids lived on the other side. The oldest of all these double cousins was Patricia Sanning – she was just three days younger than me. But in an indignity, she was a year ahead of me in school......thanks to the fact that those two families attended Catholic School and they didn't have to adhere to the same age restrictions as public school.

The Sanning/Lookinough house had a huge fenced-in yard, with a couple of swingsets, slides – and I don't think a single blade of grass! I loved running over there to play. The Stone and Schatzer kids were usually there playing as well. The most fun was playing hide and seek just about dark at night. Tommy Stone pinched the lighted tail off a lightning bug one night and gave it to me – my first engagement ring. I was probably 7 or 8.

I haven't been to that neighborhood or seen any of those people since the mid 60's. But it's amazing how vivid the memories of them remain!

Club Day

For as long as I can remember (and beyond), the third Thursday of every month was “Club Day” for my Mom. Today was no different, though it was nothing like the days of my childhood.

I mentioned to my younger daughter last night that today was Club Day for Grams, and she mentioned that, while she knew about Club Day, she had no idea what it was. So I gave her the history.

Decades ago, the University of Missouri Extension decided that there needed to be some special, organized outreach for the women in the local communities. At that time, the Extension Homemakers Clubs were born. Every little community had an organized club that met once a month. At every meeting, there would be a lesson or two provided by the University Extension. Some of those lessons were on sewing, some on gardening and preserving. I know there were lessons on how to make your own cleaning products, how to make sure your new furniture would fit in your home. There were cooking tips, child-rearing tips, and about any home-related tip you might think of.

For the time, it was a really innovative method of education. Sometimes, there would be special events that would include every Extension Homemakers Club in the county. There was always a large attendance at that.

As a kid, I loved Club – for a variety of reasons. A lot of the clubs decided that they would have a secret name exchange annually, and then the “Secret Pals” would sneak in gifts for their special person for birthdays, wedding anniversaries, and occasionally other really special occasions. I always enjoyed seeing what Mom would get, and then I would help her try to figure out who had her name for that year. December was always a fun meeting, because once the December birthday and anniversary people received their gifts, everyone would find out who their Secret Pal was for the year.

Before I was in school, I got to go to every club meeting with Mom. That was always fun, because there were quite a few kids in the neighborhood in my age group. These were not the same kids I saw at Sunday School, because we traveled a whopping five miles to attend another church (one that had more kids). Once I got in school, Club Day in the summer was the rare time I got to see some of my classmates. We always had fun playing outside while the adults met inside. And all the hostesses tried to out-do one another with the refreshments. We always had something yummy to eat.

At that time, there were enough members in the club that it was Mom's turn to host about once every two years. She would always pick September, so she could host in her birthday month (the summer months were generally left for the teachers).

The club members would give a bridal shower to the children of members getting married, and a baby shower for their first baby. As time went on, they also hosted special suppers for 40^th and 50^th wedding anniversaries. Sadly, though, time marching on meant fewer club members. What few younger ones there were in the neighborhood would join, but they were often working or running with their kids.

Finally, as more and more retired to town, Mom's little club that was originally 20 miles out in the country started meeting for lunch at the local Senior Center here in town. At first they would eat together, then retire to a meeting room for their meeting. And now, they don't even have a meeting. Extension Homemakers is all but a thing of the past, and I think there is only one active club left in the county. Club Day now consists usually of Mom riding the OATS bus from her apartment to the Senior Center and enjoying lunch with Dorothy Dodds, who lives in the apartments that are part of the Senior Center.

But, Club Day is also Birthday Celebration Day at the Senior Center, and they serve fried chicken. So Club Day isn't going anywhere as long as Mom is able to go! And, since today's her birthday, she got to have cake and ice cream and bring home a birthday gift. Happy Birthday, Mom!

Beef - It's What's For Lunch!

People may think I'm crazy, but I enjoy watching “Judge Judy”. Some days, I think I'd like to be Judge Judy when I grow up! I love the way she cuts to the chase and says what she thinks. She's one of a kind! I'd love to be able to be like that.

We took my Mom out to lunch today for her birthday (tomorrow). She loves the beef burgers at the local fast-food place......actually, so do I. We had a fun lunch with her, and tomorrow she'll go to the Senior Center for their fried chicken lunch and September birthday celebration. What fun that it'll actually be on her birthday!

Family stories are so much fun.......usually! Mom's older brothers are both well. Her oldest brother still remembers and loves to tell the story about the day Mom was born. He has an amazing memory and forgets very little. Hopefully I can be like that when I'm 88.......but somehow, at the rate I'm going, I doubt it!

I'm very lucky with the genes I got from Mom's family. Everyone seems to have amazing memories and good health. When my grandmother passed away in 1993, she was still physically in pretty good shape. She did have Alzheimer's, and that had taken a toll. But she was still pretty spry.

As I said, my uncle has an amazing memory. It amazes me every time I hear all the stories he has. You name a subject or a person, he'll likely have a story. My mom is a pretty good match for him, though she isn't always sure she is. His son and I seem to have inherited that same “memory gene”. Occasionally, we “cheat” by instant messaging one another on Facebook before we post something, to make sure we're right! But don't tell, that's our secret!

Other than taking Mom out for lunch, I actually had a pretty quiet day. And it was nice. I changed the sheets this morning and did two loads of laundry. We walked at the park this morning and at the indoor track this afternoon. That was about it.

I'm in the final throes of my online class. And I think I'm ready for it to be done. I probably won't look for another class until after the holidays. I need to finish typing up some class notes for the final two weeks of lectures, then just review. The final will be available online next Friday, the 27^th. I'll have four days to work on it before I have to turn it in – but it cannot be “open book”. Drat! I was really hoping I didn't have to remember all that psychology terminology and all those experiments! Oh, well.

Right now I'm sitting at a 91% for my classwork score. The biggest assignment is still to be graded, then the final is worth 50 points. I'm hoping to stay above 90%. But I may not.....I don't think I have enough of a “pad” going into the final two things. The fourth week assignment came back with 100% score, so I was happy with that. I was amazed at the score – and the comments basically said that the people assessing my assignment didn't agree with me, but they felt I made a compelling argument.

That assignment, by the way, was taking and assessing an online survey that ended up being about animal cruelty, including how animals are slaughtered for meat. You don't get into that subject with a farm girl! I'm not going to give in to the thought that if I'm an animal lover, I should turn into a vegetarian or a vegan!

By the way, I really enjoyed my beefburger today!!

Glasses

It rained today! For some, that may not be an exciting thing. For us, it was very exciting. We've had very little rain the past couple of months. We had to make a trip to Chillicothe this morning, and it seemed very strange to drive with inclement weather!

I made a mandatory appearance at the local Career Center, for a workshop on filling out applications and writing resumes. With all due respect to the workshop leader, I probably could have taught the workshop! The good news was that our leader was subbing for the regular workshop leader, and he didn't see the need to keep us an entire hour.

Even though we gave ourselves plenty of time for the drive, given the weather, we were surprised to find the highway department working in the rain at several spots – there was highway pavement repair, as well as roadside mowing in a couple of spots. I dropped hubby off at Walmart, then enjoyed visiting at the Career Center with high schoolmate Connie Wheelbarger Epperson. That's the one bright spot of going to the Career Center!

Hubby had his annual eye exam at Walmart, and I did our shopping there once I was done with the workshop. We were home before one, and I got everything put away. It's amazing how ready I was to sit down and relax. I really should have more energy!

Now that hubby has had his eye exam, it's my turn to make an appointment. I hate that. I'm hoping that my prescription hasn't changed, but the lenses I'm wearing now are really scratched up. I'd love at some point to know how much money has been spent over my lifetime on eye exams and glasses! I know when my childhood optometrist built a new house in town, Mom commented that we probably built one wing of the house!

Having a regular optometrist is a luxury that some people don't appreciate. I spent the first twenty years of my adulthood moving around frequently. That makes it difficult to find a reliable optometrist (or dentist, or physician). I don't have good eyesight – a real understatement! I got my first pair of glasses when I was 13, and I'm not sure any prescription has lasted longer than two years.

One big issue with not finding a regular optometrist is the money you put out for glasses. I've spent in excess of $500 for one pair of glasses......admittedly, part of the cost is because of how strong my prescription is. And, since nothing seems to be simple, I also require a prism in one of my lenses because my eyes aren't able to focus “level” - one eye focuses higher than the other eye. You know, when you're having an eye exam and you see two identical items and the optometrist tells you to let them know when you see only one? That measures if your eyes are focusing “level” or not......I can never tell them I see only one item when I'm supposed to. So, everything increases the cost and lengthens the processing time. I envy people who can go into an eye shop and get their new glasses the same day! For me, the usual processing time is two weeks.

Hubby has a relatively simple prescription. He's able to go an online source he's found and order new glasses for a really reasonable price. He realizes how fortunate he is to be able to order multiple pairs of glasses – some regular, some with light tinting, others with heavier tinting to wear in the sun.

At least the current frame styles are better than they used to be. I remember with the 80's big frames....I had a pair of plastic frames with rigid nosepieces. They kept sliding because the nosepiece was too wide, and the optical tech's solution was to heat the bridge and bend the frames into a slight “V” across the bridge. With those big frames and my strong prescription, I felt like I was looking at life through a fisheye lens! I didn't make it very far before I had to find another optical place to bend the frame back to normal!

Cooler Weather

Less than a week ago, when it was incredibly hot, hubby commented that he was looking forward to winter. Today, when it was overcast and temps in the low 60's (72 in the house), he's freezing and talking about when we can turn on the furnace.

When it does actually get cold, we have a good heating system in the house. We have warm clothes. He'll still be freezing – it's the one point where he really remembers that he comes from California.

Sometimes I think back about my childhood and marvel that I get cold in the winter, even though we have insulation, tight windows, and good heating in our house. It's good, I think, that time colors our memories!

That old farmhouse where I grew up did not have an ounce of insulation. The windows did not fit tightly, and the wood stove didn't do a terrific job of heating. Sometimes it was so cold in there! In the wintertime, I would move from the north bedroom to the south bedroom. We would also move some of the living room furniture to the dining room and shut off the two north rooms for the season. This usually happened soon after Christmas – because we seemed to always have a houseful of company at Christmas.

It was somewhat an adventure to me, switching bedrooms. Unfortunately, that meant poor Mom had to go into the freezing cold end of the house every day and pull my clothes (and hers) out of the closet that was shut off from the heat. She would hang my school clothes somewhere near the stove so they would be warm when I was ready to put them on.

Dad would bank the fire in the stove at night and would get up early to get the fire going before Mom and I crawled out of bed. Of course, the fact that we had no running water  had to enter into the equation as well. The water buckets would be filled at night, once all the dishes were done. In the morning, by the time we all washed up and the breakfast dishes were done, someone was trekking through the cold to the pump to get more water.

In thinking back now, I have more memories of the wintertime before we closed up part of the house – memories of Christmases, with the tree in the living room and my grandmother and great-aunt sleeping on the fold-out sofa, with Grandpa being in that south bedroom (my paternal grandparents divorced when Dad was very young), having the house filled with the addition of my uncle, aunt, and cousins for Christmas dinner. The rest of the winter may have been cold, but those memories have really faded with time.

The one winter I really remember was my sophomore year of high school. The winter weather was warmer than usual, and we had rain...........rain, rain, and more rain. I remember the plastered walls in the house having damp marks on them, there was so much rain. I also remember that was the year Hong Kong flu hit the U.S. Mom always said all I had to do was hear about some illness on the news, and I would get it. Both Dad and I had the Hong Kong flu.

Come to think of it, I guess we did have snow that winter. I was sick with that flu for almost three weeks. But I lucked out on school, because many of the days I was sick there was no school because of the snow and impassable roads. In a normal year, being sick and unable to go to school for the better part of three weeks would have been a problem. I had Mrs. Mosher for English that year, and we were reading and reporting on novels – my novel was Dickens' Oliver Twist. I had vivid memories of trying to stay awake long enough to read that book, so I could turn in my report by the deadline.

That was such a long winter for me – it seemed to be ages before my strength came back. But, at least I never had to endure a winter in Palo Alto, California!! Such horrible weather they had there....hubby can't quite remember if they actually had to turn on a furnace or not!

Friday the 13th

I only realized about an hour ago that it's Friday the 13^th. Hmm. It's amazing how separated you can get from reality when you're not working five days a week! I did know it was Friday, so I guess I get points for that.

Our heat wave finally broke, and we woke up to 56 degree temps this morning. How refreshing! The doors and windows have been open all day. Our morning walk was on the edge of chilly when we got into the shade – thermometer in the car said it was 65 then. It's been refreshing and energizing.

I took advantage of that energy to clean the house and do three loads of laundry. We enjoyed eating lunch on our screened-in back porch. I spent some time this afternoon typing up lecture notes from my online class. I sat up at a table on the north side of our house and sat in front of an open window. The breeze was wonderful. We should sleep well tonight.

I've always enjoyed having a cool environment for sleeping. I was a December baby, and from what I hear the summer of 1953 was pretty hot. The folks had a little fan that Mom would put on for my naptime. Evidently, that was a very formative time in my life. Ever since then, I've slept better when there is a fan on.

I like it cool when I sleep. I also prefer to sleep as much as possible with a fan on – I'm lulled to sleep by the sound of the fan. I always enjoyed those first warm nights in the spring when I could drag my fan out and sleep with it on. If we had a cold snap in the summer – I'd still turn my fan on and pull all the covers up. I'd wait as long as I could in the fall before I would give in and put the fan away.

Going to college was tough. I was first on the top floor of the dorm, in the back corner. There was no air conditioning. I had my fan...but it was August....heat rises....the windows were small and were the type that open vertically with a crank handles. And I was in a strange place, a strange (very uncomfortable) bed, and a roommate who liked to stay up all night. I was very, very tired for what seemed like a long time.....until another room opened up that I could move to with a friend. The new room was still on the third floor, but it had different windows that I could open and set the fan in the window. I was so much more comfortable and could sleep.

I had one summer baby and two winter babies. The summer baby was early, small, and we had no heat problems. The other two, though, were born hot. My son couldn't sleep in the basinette because it was too hot for him. He broke out in heat rash. Even though he was born on New Year's Eve, I could only dress him in lightweight clothes and use receiving blankets. He simply couldn't tolerate heat. Three years and six days later, the youngest one was born. I started her out in a baby bed – and when she was four days old, she started breaking out in a heat rash (that would be on January 10).

I had learned enough with my son that I immediately undressed her until she cooled down, redressed her in lightweight clothes and ditched the heavy blankets. To this day, 30-some years later, neither one of them can sleep when it's hot. Maybe it has something to do with being born in the winter.

Anyway, Friday the 13^th or not, it's been a pretty comfortable day. Hope everyone has a good night's sleep, and happy weekend.

To Color Or Not?

Dr. Oz's program today is about the damage we do to our hair as we try to look better. Ironic, since I recolored my hair this afternoon to once again cover up my gray.

I do realize I'm now on a hair merry-go-round. I started five years ago coloring my hair, because I didn't want to look gray and washed out when we took family photos for my son's wedding. A year before the wedding, I had knee replacement surgery. That surgery was the one point in my life where I started to feel old. So for many reasons, I went to the beauty shop prior to the wedding and had the gray covered up.

I kept it that way, because I was working with a lot of people who were younger than me – and I didn't want them to see the gray hair and lump me into the “old fogey” category. Now I'm stuck in that cycle. When I see the gray roots, I want them gone. It would look really odd for me to grow out the gray, and I really wish there was some substance that would remove the color and put me back to “au naturale”!

We women do so many things to try to make ourselves look good. I'm sure we would all be amazed to see the money we spent in a year's time to look younger/better/whatever makes you feel better.

My grandmothers were a study in opposites. My maternal grandmother didn't do anything (that I'm aware of) to amp up her looks. She did her hair up in pincurls, no color.....and she didn't turn gray until very late in life. My paternal grandmother, on the other hand, was always afraid she might look old. Her hair color of choice was ash blond – and I remember that, even though she's been gone since 1973. We often did her shopping for her, if she was working on the weekend when we came to town. It was my job to do her shopping, and I still remember that “ash blond” command! She wore makeup, worried with her figure, and adjusted her age to match her mood. Dad often said that if Grandma lived long enough, she'd be younger than him!

But, looking further into their backgrounds, more differences are obvious. My maternal grandmother, though she worked hard, enjoyed life, family, and the people in her life. My paternal grandmother, on the other hand, didn't enjoy much of anything. The two of them were so completely different.

I'm really somewhere in the middle, as far as the “gussying up” goes. I enjoy wearing makeup, but I really don't wear much. I use moisturizer on my face, because I'm really not ready to see the wrinkles that keep appearing since I hit 60. I used to wear more makeup than I do now, but with age some unexpected allergies kicked in and I can no longer wear eye shadow. But, I rarely go places now where I worry about makeup. And hubby likes me just fine!

My maternal grandmother was really such a great person. She never understood why we grandkids loved spending time with her – but we all knew. I only hope that at the end of the day, I can feel like I was a good replica of her!

Preserving

I had a very quiet day. In fact, it was almost TOO quiet.....I came close to just getting antsy. I'm sure there was something I should have done...I'll probably think of it about bedtime. But it was a relaxing day.

I was just thinking of all the times in my life that I would have given anything to have a quiet day. When my kids were little, life was so hectic. I never felt like I was really being a good parent, there was always so much work to do.

Think of it – three kids in four and a half years. That was a lot of diapers to wash, a lot of nights without sleep because someone was colicky or teething. I never felt like I was making much headway!

During the summers, it seemed like nonstop canning and freezing, trying to store up enough food to get us through the winter. In the early days, before Child #3 came along, I had two freezers that I filled annually, plus what was called a “fruit room” that was always filled – that room had four shelves, about six feet long each, and deep enough to hold four quart canning jars. It was always filled.

I would keep track on my calendar what I canned every day. During the heart of the summer, my canner was going almost nonstop.......quart jars of green beans, pickles, beets, half-pint jars of carrots and potatoes to use in winter soups, so many things to put up. I froze strawberries, jam, quart bags of sweet corn. As fall came, there were quarts of tomatoes and of tomato juice, applesauce, peaches, plums. I was fortunate that we lived in an area that had high food crop production. We would get apples for the picking off local trees, lugs of fresh peaches for small cost. All it took was some time and energy getting everything preserved. I would even can pumpkin for pies.

As the kids got older, and we lived in different geographic areas, the foods changed some. The kids discovered they liked okra as much as I did, so that was added to the garden. I did bread and butter pickles to go along with the garlic dills. The green beans at some point were switched out for purple beans, which would stay tender to a larger size but still turned green when heated.

In Oregon, my first garden was huge. There were four rows of everbearing strawberries across the garden. They would produce strawberries all summer, with the exception of the one or two hot weeks we would have in early August. My older daughter still loves strawberries, and I remember her going outside for the first time in the spring when she was a year and a half old, and she immediately ran toward the garden to find strawberries. Quite a memory that one has!

As the kids got older, they would help out in the garden. We would work together picking and then snapping beans. They would help me cut corn off the cob and get it ready to freeze. It was nice to have that help......especially when I think of those early days when I had babies and was pregnant and was still canning all day long!

I miss the days of having all that produce to have on hand during the winter months. But I don't miss the work. And I don't miss the times of financially scrambling to keep my kids fed. One of the nicest memories I have was of a Safeway store in Beaverton, Oregon, before #3 was born. There was a worker in that store who was from Jefferson City, and the first time we chatted in the store, he pegged my Missouri accent. From that point on, he was extra kind to the kids and me – and his fellow employees followed suit. One morning I ran to the store to buy plums they had advertised on sale to can. When I got there, the plums hadn't come in. But the produce gal told me she had some overripe peaches if I was interested. She lowered the price to about two and a half dollars – and I went home and canned 28 quarts of peaches!! To those workers, wherever they are, thank you for making that day for me!

The Former State Of The State

In so many ways, I had a totally normal childhood for the time in which I was raised. But there was one facet of my childhood that was far from normal, and I enjoyed it so much.

When I was three, my maternal grandparents moved from our local community to Jefferson City, the capital of the State of Missouri. I was young enough that I don't remember their living in our neighborhood. My cousin, who's nine months older than me, has vivid memories of running after their vehicle, crying, when they left for that “long” move.

After years of working on farms belonging to other people, my grandfather got a job with the State of Missouri as a security guard. The first year they lived in Jefferson City, he worked at the State Penitentiary for men, which was located at that time in Jefferson City. After about a year, he transferred to guard the Governor's Mansion. That's when our adventures really began.

The inmates at the State Penitentiary made tooled leather goods to sell. There was a display room where people could go in and view the items for sale. Now, whether the general public could go in there or not, I don't remember. But, as family members, we got to. I'll never forget the scary feeling of being between two heavy, locked doors as we entered from the public area to the private area of the penitentiary. I hated that place! However, we all got cool stuff. Grandad was able to get custom-made items for us. For years I had a beautiful brown leather purse with my name on it.

I don't know if it was the same trip or not, but I have strong memories of going to visit them over Thanksgiving, before I started school. Mom and I rode with my aunt and uncle, my two cousins, and their neighborhood friend. At that time, Grandma and Grandad lived in an apartment. It seemed closed to downtown Jefferson City to me. We enjoyed exploring the stores. The neighborhood friend of my cousin had some spending money and she got a wonderful paper doll set. I wanted some of those paper dolls so much and was devastated when Mom said “no”. Luckily, it was close enough to Christmas that Santa was evidently listening, because he left me those same paper dolls under the tree.

Over the next eight years, we had great visits to Jefferson City. Every time we went, we would ride to work with Grandad at least one day and explore the area around the Capitol and Governor's Mansion. I have memories of getting a drink of water in the Mansion kitchen during hot weather. I also have memories of accidentally stepping on the edge of a flower bed on the Mansion lawn and Grandad telling me I would get arrested if I did it again. He was a tease.

We always enjoyed going to the Capitol and browsing through the museum on the ground level. At that time, it was a really great museum, with interactive displays. Walking from the Mansion to the Capitol, we walked past the Supreme Court Building. There was always a beautiful flower garden at the Capitol in the shape of the State, using different flowers. Both the Capitol and the Governor's Mansion overlook the Missouri River. After our adventures, we would walk back to Grandma and Grandad's house.

My most memorable year was later during their time of living in Jefferson City – I can't remember how old I was that summer. But Grandad had made arrangements with Governor John Dalton for us to meet him in his office in the Capitol. There was a photographer there, and the picture of me sitting at the Governor's desk still hangs on the wall of our home. That was special.

The trips to Jefferson City were so fun – there were so many kids in Grandma and Grandad's neighborhood for me to play with during that week. And there was an ice cream truck that came by their house every afternoon. I saved my money for weeks before vacation to have money to run to the curb every time I heard “Bicycle Built For Two” chiming through the air. What a wonderful break from the norm!

Stove Black And Life's Lessons

It's hotter than blazes out there......and having grown up in a house heated by a wood stove, I know how hot blazes can be!! My car's thermometer was showing 100 when we went to walk (inside!) about an hour ago. Ugh. It's September, so I'm sure the end is in sight. Maybe just not quickly enough.

Today's wood stoves tend to be nicely styled, they are aesthetically pleasing when added to your décor. Not so much when I was growing up. Ours was an upright cylindrical contraption. Mom's teakettle fit nicely on top of it. The stovepipe angled up and fit into the chimney, and the ashes were removed from the bottom of the stove.

We had a lot of timber on our farm, so fuel was in ample supply. During the summer Dad would scout the timber as he did his summer work on the farm, checking out downed trees or limbs that could be made into firewood and watching for trees that needed to be cut down. In the fall, he would head out on the tractor, with the wagon behind, and start cutting wood for the winter. He would haul it back to the barn lot, in front of the house, and cut it to stove length there. We would always have quite a pile by the time cold weather hit.

Part of the daily chores was to carry armloads of wood from that pile in the barn lot to the front porch and stack it there to be used in the stove. Dad always carefully banked the fire at night, then got up before the rest of us to get the fire going and the house heated up.

I can't begin to imagine the hours it took Dad to do all that work. I do know when he started cutting in the fall, the weather was still pretty warm. I know that Mom and I helped out with stacking the wood in the barn lot, and we also pitched in with carrying it up to the porch daily.

Living on the farm was often hard work. But there were times of fun, too. For instance, when Dad cut those trees in the timber, he would pile up all the small limbs and brush. At some point in the fall, we would load up in the wagon and Dad would drive us back to that brush pile with the tractor. The brush pile would be burned, and we would have a wonderful wiener roast. I always enjoyed that and wished it could happen more often.

That wood stove was also the source of one of many life's lessons for me. When I was young, Mom would sometimes need to help Dad with the chores in the barn. If the weather was too nasty, they would occasionally leave me in the house. One day I was coloring while they were doing chores, and I had a brilliant idea. The wood stove was a dull, fairly ugly, black. I had all these bright crayons. So I proceeded to color the stove. It worked so well, the wax crayons melting against the surface of the black stove. I just knew Mom and Dad would be happy with the stove's new look.

I was wrong. They were not happy. And even though I was young, the very next time it was warm enough to let the fire go out and the stove cool down, I found out how to black a stove. That, by the way, is NOT a fun job. I'm sure in the meantime, the melted wax odor permeated the kitchen. I'm lucky I didn't burn myself.

Having a Mom who had been a teacher was not always fun. She had way too many ideas about how to modify my behavior. I'm guessing I was the only student in my class at school who knew how to black a stove. So many life's lessons to be learned.......like how she decided I should learn better the night I helped with chores and decided to splat in every fresh cow patty I found between the house and the barn......but that's a story for another day!

Happy Friday

Ah, the joys of discovery! It's amazing what you can learn if you can just keep your cool and work to a goal. The goal: getting the TV antenna that we received yesterday hooked up and working.

Hubby started on it yesterday afternoon and did a stellar job of putting the antenna together. He ran to the store and picked up the necessary coax cable and hooked everything together. It was late afternoon by then, so we didn't go crazy trying a lot of stuff, but we did position the antenna at a few different spots in the house to see what kind of reception we could get.

It didn't matter where we put the antenna, we got an amazing signal from the Public TV station in Warrensburg. If we got toward the back of the house (which is south), we could pick up some stations from Columbia. Things were looking promising at the point we felt like we were both too tired to continue.

This morning we got up feeling rested, refreshed, and ready to try it again. Hubby started by taking the antenna out to the front porch. Every time we ran a signal search, we'd find another station or two. The higher he put the antenna, the more channels we could find. And the reception was phenomenal....much better than the satellite reception. By the time the antenna was at the ceiling of the porch, we were getting all the KC stations except one, plus all the sub-stations. We're still picking up a couple of Columbia stations, the Warrensburg station, and even one from Jefferson City.

We have wrought iron porch posts, and the clamps on the antenna fits one of those posts like they were MFEO (Made For Each Other – fans of “Sleepless In Seattle” will get that reference!). We also discovered that our 100 feet of coax cable was too much and could diminish our signal, so it's been switched out for 50 feet. All in all, we're pretty pleased that we have a good backup system for eventually freeing ourselves from satellite.

We feel pretty good with our forward strides for today. We got so much done with installing this antenna before we even did our daily podcasts this morning. We got those done and ready to post.....and since it was coming up on 11 and I was still in my pj's, I thought it was probably time to shower and get dressed!! I can't remember when I was still in my pj's at 11 am, except for when I was under the weather. It was kind of nice not to have any time pressure!

We decided to grab lunch at the local Mexican restaurant. I did some reading for my online class this afternoon, and we walked at the Fitness Track. All in all, it's been a great day!

I'm looking forward to a good weekend. We have no big plans. I do need to do some house cleaning tomorrow, then we're looking forward to NFL on Sunday. It should be a very relaxing weekend. I hope all of you have a good weekend, too.

Antenna Or Satellite?

I'm really dragging today. Not sure why I'm so tired, but I've had a couple of nights this week of being awake later than normal. Now, on the opening night of NFL football, I feel like I could go to sleep by seven!! It won't happen – I'm sure I'll pep up with the kickoff!

As we're now on the downhill side of our unemployment benefits, we've been making more steps at money saving. Earlier this week, we downgraded our satellite package. We're good with it. In fact, it's helping us discover more and more movies and TV programs available online. Tuesday night, we hooked the computer and HDMI cable up to the TV and watched Rizzoli & Isles online at the same time it was being broadcast. Not too shabby.

Because of everything we're finding online, we decided that we could probably cancel our satellite altogether and install a TV antenna. That's been our “project” of the last couple of weeks.

Hubby found an antenna online that we thought would work for us, so we ordered it. When it arrived, it didn't take us long to admit defeat. For one thing, it was going to be at least ten feet long when assembled. For the second – and to me bigger – issue, the instructions were pretty skimpy. I'm visual. You give me a few words and some good diagrams, and I'm pretty good at assembling. But make me have to figure out what these pieces are......it doesn't happen!

The diagrams weren't numerous enough or detailed enough for me to be able to figure out which piece was which. I kept scanning over the written words, and they might as well have been in a foreign language. We were smart enough to throw in the towel quickly, while we could still put everything back in the box and tape the box shut. We returned it, but we didn't give up.

Once the monstrosity was returned, hubby started looking online to see what else was available. He found a much smaller antenna, for even less money, that just might work. It was delivered today. First off, it was delivered in a cute little box with a built-in carrying handle. So cute! (Yes, I know - “cute” doesn't count for anything!!)

When the pieces came out of the box, there weren't too many. The few screws included were already attached to some of the pieces, so we didn't have to sort hardware. It looked fairly simple – hopefully, it's not too good to be true!

The assembly instructions were clearly written.....and the diagrams were clear and detailed! Yay! It was assembled with very little angst, and in a reasonably short time. Oh, yes, it's only 20” by 28”. Hubby is now on a run to pick up some coax cable so we can try it out. So wish us luck. We should know fairly soon if it will work or not. And if it doesn't, we can always return it and keep watching on the satellite.......as long as we can watch that football game tonight!