The View from Here

Children

I don't write about my children a lot. I feel that they deserve a bit of privacy, or at least the right to tell the world their own stories. However, from time to time I can't help but mention something about them. Today is one of those days.

These days everyone seems to need a reason for having children. I've had parents tell me they spent years deciding to have their first child. They weighed the pros and cons and considered their lifestyle and budget...I don't think I ever gave it much thought at all. I grew up in a family that just expected that you would grow up and have children. That's what people did. My mother would have been appalled if I had sat her down and said, "Look, I don't think I'm going to have any children." I think the only thing that changed between my teenage fantasy years and my actual motherhood years was the number of children I had. My ancestors had six to twelve children. My mother had five. When I was fifteen I told everyone I was going to have a dozen children. I only had three.

I enjoyed my children most of the time. Anyone who tells you they enjoyed every blessed moment of their child's life is either a darn good liar or on some excellent medication. Yes, raising a child is one of the great joys of life. You celebrate their triumphs and accomplishments and bask in the sweet purity of their love. But anyone who has been around the block a time or two knows that your own child can also drive you nuts! There were times during the "I want it and I want it NOW" years when I thought I would die of exhaustion. There were times during the school years when I thought I would meet myself on the road. There were times when they were teenagers that I knew I was the biggest failure in the world and I would have gladly given them away to the next gypsy caravan passing through town. But somehow you make it through those years.

You make it through those years and find that you suddenly have adult children who can carry on an intelligent conversation, earn a living, have their own children, and more importantly do things for you!  LOL Which brings me to the point of today's blog. My children are great adults. I'm very proud of the way they have turned out and I feel blessed to have raised them. I don't pretend to take credit for everything- I really do think it "takes a village" and many people have played a role in raising my children. But I'm certainly glad I was along for the ride.

I think what is surprising about raising children is how different they can be- not only from each other, but from what you thought they would be. My children know things and do things that amaze me. And they enrich my life much more now than when they were sweet children. Each of them is passionate about something. Each of them has a group of good friends. Each of them is self-sufficient. They call me for advice, but they also give me advice, good advice. If I ask for help they are ready to give it, and usually without complaint. My oldest daughter is always ready to edit my writing for me. My younger daughter makes my wonderful blog banners. My son is my handyman for anything from a leaky toilet to a contrary computer. And my children are great listeners. They may not always agree with me, but they listen to me ramble on...and most of the time they don't groan.

If you still have younger children, believe me, the best is yet to come.

My Bucket List

Okay, I'm still fascinated by this concept of making a list of things you want to do while you are still on this earth. My daughter posted one on her blog and people across the country are doing the same thing. Why not me? I know I have to preface any plans with "if the Lord wills it", so let's assume that. I also know that my priorities might change in a couple of years, or even in a couple of months, so let's not carve these in stone tablets. However, I think this exercise forces you to stop for a few minutes and give some thought to whether you are living your life or just going along for the ride. If the following things are important to me, then I'd better make sure I'm doing something to make them happen.

Before I kick the bucket I want to:

1. attend my great-grand child's college graduation. (I don't have a great-grand child yet, so this requires not only longevity, but some cooperation from at least one of my grandchildren!)

2. write a book and have it published.

3. visit all fifty states. (I think my current count is 38.)

4. be in a movie. (I'm not after stardom here. I just want to be part of the process of making a movie-be allowed to watch how it's done. I'd love to be in one of those big historical productions with a thousand extras in costumes!) 

5. walk in the Pacific ocean again.

6. create a scholarship fund for women over forty who want to go to college.

7. see a Broadway play.

8. have a fabulous garden. 

9. be healthy, wealthy, and wise, all at the same time, for at least a month. LOL

10. write a blog read by 10,000 people!

By the time I get ready for bed tonight I'll think of at least ten other things that should be on my list and regret at least one thing that is on it. Such is the nature of us all.

Now, get busy and make your own list!

No One Cares

Today's blog is one of those that my son says no one should write. "No one cares what you did yesterday." LOL Honestly, what is wrong with him? Wasn't he raised properly? But of course he may be right. If you are looking for philosophy or advice this morning, you may be disappointed.

Let's start with my photo because several of you have asked about it. Yes, I finally gave in and had Gary take my picture. I don't like having my picture made because it is so difficult to take one that doesn't make me look dumb. I have a silly grin and my eyes close completely. I want to look more serious- wise, thoughtful, understanding- but I never do. Oh well, this is the package God gave me. And no, I don't dye my hair. It looks darker sometimes just because of lighting or the time of year. Yes, I do have some gray hairs, but my father and his grandmother didn't really have much gray hair until they were over 60. Maybe I have that gene!

I worked at the park yesterday and got a nice surprise. My mother's cousin was taking her morning walk and we had a nice conversation. I hadn't seen her in ages and it was nice to reconnect. Mother always loved her and enjoyed her company. Seeing her made me ashamed that I don't spend more time visiting with people.

There was an article on the MSN homepage yesterday about the danger of talking on your cell phone while driving. I promptly sent it to one of my children and discussed it with the resident one. Children can be so smug about their technological abilities! I can't tell you how many times I've had to honk at people because they were either stopped in traffic, sitting too long at a light, or swerving over the line while talking on their cell phone. One day a guy on a road grader was coming toward me and talking on his cell phone! He was driving one-handed! What is so important that it has to be discussed while you are on the road????

I'm going across the river this morning to do a little shopping in Texas. I don't like to do it, and don't do it very often, but it is not my fault that we don't have a HOBBY LOBBY on this side.

A good blog tomorrow...I promise.

Wedded Bliss

I wasn't sure what I was going to write about this morning. Sometimes I get an idea the evening before- ususally while I'm watering the flowers. Sometimes, for some unknown reason, I wake up with an idea. Other days, I drink coffee and read my email until an idea forms in my little brain. This morning my topic was boldly printed on the MSN homepage:"Go to Bed Angry- 5 New Rules for Wedded Bliss". Wedded bliss? Isn't that an oxymoron?

I read the article and it offers some sound advice about marriage myths and the realities of long-term marriage. However, I think the media usually contributes more to the myths than to the realities. And the biggest myth of all is that marriage will be "bliss" or "happy ever-after". Don't get me wrong- I'm happily married. But every moment of my marriage hasn't been happy. Therein lies the difference. As the article pointed out, most people are happy to be married. We enjoy the companionship and the security and the intimacy. But being with another person for hours each day takes compromise and negotiation. Being with another person for decades takes work! It takes commitment.

It's interesting to me that most young people think their marriage relationship will be easier than their other relationships because they are "in love". Love is a feeling. Love is what helps us choose another person as our companion. But love doesn't make us agree on how to raise our children or buy a house or even choose a movie. Marriage is a daily exploration of who we are and what we believe. Most couples never discuss a fraction of the issues that will arise during their marriage.

I've been married for 36 years. I know couples who have been married for 60 years and I've seen couples on the news who are still married after 80 years, so my number isn't impressive. However, the fact that I'm still looking forward to more years with the same man says something about our relationship. We have a good partnership. We are close, but independent. We have some similarities and some glaring differences. That's what keeps marriage interesting.   

 

Adventure with a hacksaw...

Now before my daughters and a couple of my friends panic, there will be no reports of blood in today’s blog. I still have all my body parts and despite your memories of the hammer incident and the machete incident and well… Anyway, past performances notwithstanding, I can yield a tool now and then without damaging anything. There was pain and screaming today, but it had nothing to do with the hacksaw, and we’ll get to that later.

My project for today was to make and install a screen for the office window. I was supposed to do it last week, but we won’t go there. Suffice it to say that I told Gary this morning, “When you get home today there WILL be a screen on that window.” So…I located the hacksaw, assembled all the necessary parts for the screen frame, read the instructions, measured the window and…apparently got confused.

The old carpenter’s saying is “measure twice, cut once”. Well, that didn’t work. I measured twice. But I only read the instructions once. The instructions for the frame say “Cut frame, allowing 1 ½” for the width of the corners”. I measured the window, marked the 1 ½” and it just didn’t look right at all. “Way too short,” I thought, so I only marked off an inch and cut the frame piece. Then I cut the other side, put the corner on and took it to the window. Too short!! “How is that possible?” I wondered. I looked at the frame, looked at the corner, looked at the window, and then read the instructions again: “…corners.” It’s that “s” that is so very important! LOL Do the math Mary! ¾” + ¾ ” = 1 ½”. So I cut two NEW frame pieces, each the length of the window, minus ¾ “. I took the half of a frame out to the window to be certain I was finally on the right track. Like magic!

You’ll be happy to know that I’m not only looking through my new screen as I type this, but I also replaced the old screen on my other office window. I’m a college educated woman- I CAN be handy! LOL

Now we move on to the pain and the screaming portion of today’s blog. I realized yesterday that I have neglected to put a water pan out for my cats. They’ve been drinking from the birdbath, but that’s a bit inconvenient for the birds. So I was moving things around on the patio and looking for a suitable container when I noticed a plastic tub on the top shelf of the storage rack. Within the space of thirty seconds I: 1. lowered the tub and turned over the two or three terra cotta pots that I had forgotten were in it, 2. spilled a bird’s nest and three eggs that were apparently inside one of the pots, and 3. got stung by a yellow jacket who had been carefully monitoring its nest on the back of the tub! Hence the pain, followed quickly by a few short, but effective, screams.

I hate wasps, yellow jackets- any of those flying insects that persist in stinging me. I’ve been stung on the face, arms, hands, fingers, legs, and feet. I was stung on the tip of my ring finger last year and couldn’t wear my wedding ring for a week. Two years ago there was a wasp on my pillow when I went to bed- in the dark- and it got my face and my hand. Several years ago one got me in the face when I was out watering the flowers. I’ve even had the terrifying experience of stepping on and getting stung by a “cow killer”. In case you aren’t familiar with that lovely critter, it is a wingless wasp with a sting “severe enough to make you think it could kill a cow”. I know there must be a divine purpose for wasps, but I just wish they would leave me alone. And by the way, after that incident, I keep a pair of shoes on the front porch and the back porch and I never walk around the yard in bare feet.

I ramble. It’s June, almost July, which means I have to go now and find a site called “101 Ways to cook all that extra zucchini.” Have a great, safe day!

A Girl's Education

I remember reading this once before, and I may have posted it last year. I'm not going to look. Consider it a summer re-run. Besides, new readers shouldn't miss these words of wisdom! LOL

The Caddo Herald, September 15, 1913

A girl's education is most incomplete unless she has learned:

To sew.

To cook.

To mend.

To be gentle.

To value time.

To dress neatly.

To keep a secret.

To avoid idleness.

To be self-reliant.

To darn stockings.

To respect old age.

To make good bread.

To keep a house tidy.

To be above gossiping.

To make a home happy.

To control her temper.

To take care of the sick.

To sweep down cob webs.

To take care of the baby.

To marry a man for his worth.

To read the very best of books.

To take plenty of active exercise.

To be a helpmate to her husband.

To keep clear of trashy literature.

To be light hearted and fleet footed.

To be a womanly woman under all circumstances.

Another Day

If you are reading this you are blessed. No matter what the day brings- good or bad- you are blessed to be alive and experience it. That’s what I thought about this morning as Gary and I watched the weather report and he commented, “Another day. Work and heat.” Yes, indeed, but another day. That’s the important part. Another chance to live and work and enjoy life!

I guess I was in that sort of mood because we watched “The Bucket List” last night. It was enjoyable, but much more somber and thought-provoking than I had imagined.  If you haven’t seen the previews, it’s about two men diagnosed with cancer and given just months to live. They make a list of things they want to see and do before they “kick the bucket”. The movie trailer shows them skydiving and driving race cars and having a great time. But the movie is much deeper than that. They also have some relationships to repair and truths to discover about the lives they’ve lead.

Gary and I also took some photos at the cemetery yesterday and I realized how many wonderful people are buried in the cemetery at Caddo. I’ve researched them and heard stories about them. I knew many of them, and of course I have family members buried there. I wonder sometimes when I’m taking a headstone photo, if the person buried below me appreciated how wonderful their life was and how much joy they brought to others. We can get so caught up in the problems of our lives that we sometimes overlook the joy.

Do you deserve to be joyful? I think that’s what stops some people from embracing the joy in their life. Problems are something to be solved. They require action. Problems give us something to do. And deep down, even if it’s an audit from the IRS, we feel like we somehow deserve it. The Bible talks about the evil nature of man and we all realize we are capable of unspeakable things. But joy…

Joy is something we experience at the core of our being. It’s something we accept and usually appreciate, but we’re a bit wary of it.  We seldom do anything to create joy. It most often comes to us from others or from nature or from deep within our soul. Perhaps that’s why so many of us resist it- if you don’t work for it, how can you deserve it? And if you don’t deserve it, how can you embrace it?

I guess I should back up a bit and explain that I see a major difference between joy and happiness. Happiness is temporary and fleeting. Eating ice cream makes me happy. Finding a quarter on the ground makes me happy. Watching a funny movie makes me happy. We have moments of happiness, degrees of happiness. Happiness is the sensation that most often results from an accomplishment or acquisition. But joy…

Joy is a raw, pure awareness of deep fulfillment brought about by true righteousness. Joy is the happiness we don’t accomplish. Joy is the happiness we don’t acquire. Joy is the happiness we don’t understand. It’s the happiness we don’t deserve. Joy comes from God.  The difference between happiness and joy is the difference between finding out you are pregnant and kissing your healthy newborn. You might feel like you accomplished the first part, but you know the result is truly a gift from God.

I’ve carried a bookmark in my Bible for over twenty years. It says “Weeping my endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning.” Psalm 30:5

Joy is watching the sun rise over the pond and knowing you’ve been given a precious gift…another day.   

Missed a spot...

Attempting to clean my house drives me crazy!! Now that school is out I’ve been busy cleaning closets, files, drawers, etc. and getting rid of clutter that accumulates over the winter. Okay, over a lifetime. I’ll be honest and tell you that I finally threw away some letters and receipts and Christmas cards from 1992. I found lots of things I didn’t even realize I still had. Don’t tell me you haven’t thrown something into a box or file with the  thought “I’ll handle that later”. Anyway, THAT kind of cleaning makes me happy. It’s cathartic and final and satisfying. I know that those papers aren’t going to reappear tomorrow. I don’t even think I’ll ever have such a huge task to do again because my attitude toward saving things is different. I throw more things away now instead of putting them in that “handle later” pile. I’m more selective about what has sentimental value and what doesn’t.

It’s the OTHER kind of cleaning that is so frustrating. I’ve been doing a little late spring/early summer cleaning this week- cleaning and oiling woodwork, dusting every nook and cranny, wiping away spider webs, cleaning the tops of the refrigerators, washing every washable surface. It’s pointless! The spider webs I wiped away on Monday were back by Wednesday. The fireplace mantle looked good until Thursday. Each time I walk into the kitchen I see some spot of dirt or grease or slug slime that needs to be washed. Yes, I said “slug slime”! LOL For some reason we have slugs this year. Don’t ask me how they get inside because I haven’t figured it out. And the genealogy library (eighteen miles away)  is having the same problem, so it’s not just me, and not just here.  I feel like I’m in that wacky movie, Ground Hog Day, where Bill Murray’s character lives the same day over, and over, and over. I dust and clean, dust and clean, dust and clean.

My mother was one of those “move the furniture, bleach all the glasses, mop the floor every other day” kind of housecleaners. If we had ever had the money for silver I’m sure she would have polished it. I just can’t be that person. I guess that’s another reason why housecleaning drives me crazy. It makes me feel so inadequate. I find myself thinking “surely there is a way to organize and clean a bit each day so that everything is always clean”. Magazine editors would like for you to think that. I can’t tell you how many cleaning tips I’ve read that are supposed to make tasks better, faster, and easier. Some of the tips actually work, but the cleaning still has to be done again.

Of course it doesn’t help that I live with two men and two cats. I know that’s asking for trouble. My son is pretty neat, for a guy, and he does his own laundry and generally picks up after himself. My husband is a little sloppier, but I’ve spent years training him, so he takes his dishes to the sink and picks up his magazines from time to time and usually remembers where the laundry hamper is located. But just the fact that there are other people in the house generates more laundry and more dirt and more daily clutter. And cats…don’t get me started! I love them. I’ve always had at least one. But they shed hair, spill food, knock things over, etc. More cleaning required.

I guess my problem is that my standards are much higher than my motivation! I would like to live in a really clean house, but I don’t want to take the time and effort to make it that clean. So I do all the other things that I love and settle for reasonably clean. Otherwise I would truly drive myself crazy trying to reach a higher level. I spent two hours cleaning this morning and I could have spent two more if I hadn’t decided to post my blogs instead. Now aren’t you glad I missed a few spots?   

Magazines

My son left one of his magazines on the dining table yesterday. He’s reading the “Special Investors’ Issue” of Fortune, and the lead cover story is “Retire Rich”. I skimmed through the pages to see what else they had to offer, because I know for sure I’m not going to retire rich, and two articles caught my attention. One is about second careers and the other is about the real estate market. I don’t think I’ve ever picked up a magazine without finding something inside that I would read. (Okay, that statement works because there are a LOT of magazines I wouldn’t pick up in the first place!)

I think the magazines you read speak volumes about your age and income, interests and values, personality and hobbies- especially these days when you can read anything, anytime, on the internet and a magazine may cost a fortune. I saw one at the bookstore that was $8.99! I’ve paid less than that for a hardback book! No one is going to pay that kind of money for lots of advertising and a dozen articles unless it fulfils a need in their life.

The magazines around our house certainly reflect some diverse interests. My son reads Fortune, Money, Forbes, Field and Stream, and the Mensa Bulletin. He’ll also picks up history and boating magazines from time to time. My husband reads Popular Photography, Shutterbug, and anything with a car on the cover.  My own magazines include Chronicles of Oklahoma, Writer’s Digest, Garden Gate, Birds and Blooms and Woman’s Day.

Just a few years ago there were dire predictions that magazines, and books, would be phased out by the internet. I’m sure there are lots of magazines that have disappeared from the racks. Others have paper and online versions. Still others have restyled and reformed in order to compete with the screen. Most of the major magazines are still on the newsstand. There is just something about the experience of reading a magazine that can’t be duplicated by chips and wires. I love the feel of magazines. I like to curl the left page back. I even like to read some of the ads. And who can resist the photos?

My mother loved magazines. I blame her for my addiction to them. Her favorites were The Writer, Good Housekeeping, Woman’s Day, Family Circle, Reader’s Digest, Redbook, and Ladies Home Journal. Those were the ones worth her money. However, there was, and still is, a “free” table at the library where people donated their magazines. Lots of interesting things came home from that table- anything from Opera Digest to The Cattleman. Of course Mom was a writer so she was always looking for ideas and markets for her work. 

When I was actively writing for money I wrote 50-100 articles a year. I’ve been published in about fifty magazines. That sounds good, but it’s really only a fraction of the 2,000+ different magazines that are published each year. And I only wrote for four specific types of magazines- education, gardening, parenting, and travel. There are trade magazines, hobby magazines, consumer magazines, religious magazines, specialty magazines. The last time I checked there were eight different “inflight” magazines published just for air travelers. Each state has a magazine. Many towns have their own magazines.

I’ll admit I’m reading fewer magazines. I spend my money, and my time, on other things. But I think the industry will survive. If the newsstand at my local Books-A-Million is any indicator, there are thousands of people like me who love to curl up with a glossy magazine and read “Easy Tips to Save $1,000’s” or “The Ultimate Perennial List” or “How to Get Syndicated”. Okay, maybe the last one appeals to a slightly more limited audience. But there is a magazine for everyone. Tell me what you’re reading…

With Poise and Grace

 

As a young girl I tried so very hard to be graceful. Poise and grace and appearance were very important to my mother. And I’m sorry to say I was probably a disappointment to her on more than one occasion. You just can’t let a girl play army with three brothers and their buddies in a trench in the back yard and then later expect her to put on a dress and walk with poise and grace! I spent most of my life climbing trees, working in the field, hitting my brothers, and taking care of animals. I still remember that most of the cute dresses my grandmother made for me were victims of “playground accidents”. I was forever tearing a sash or ripping a bow.

But look at photos of my mother, especially early ones, and she looks like a model even in work clothes. Always standing straight, always graceful. I don’t think she worked at it or even gave it a thought. I think it was just her natural style.

Yesterday when I was cleaning my office closet,  I found a book, “Here’s to You With Poise”. It was published by the Cooperative Extension Service, Kansas State University, Manhattan, KS, January 197_. (The last digit is scratched, but may be a 2.) I suppose the book was mine, but I’m not sure where I would have gotten it. I was already out of  high school, married, living in CA by then. The book seems to be aimed at women with aspirations of becoming a model. I admit to thinking about it for a few brief weeks in high school, but only until my friend pointed out that I was short, not graceful, and had a nose like Bob Hope.( I had very supportive friends.) I’m not sure why mother would have had it either. The memory fades. No matter. It’s still interesting to read and brought back vivid memories of my high school home economics classes.

My teacher was new and young and eager. She was also divorced and from out of town- very tall, thin, blond. She was like an alien being to most of us. And she was a perfectionist! She wanted us to be young ladies. She wanted us to be confident and poised and graceful. She wanted us to go to college. She wanted us to succeed in life. So…we learned to cook and sew and balance a checkbook, but we also learned, or at least strived, to walk and talk and sit with style. We practiced walking with a book on our heads. We crossed our legs without revealing anything. We wore hats and gloves. We ate daintily. We shook hands properly. We worked toward the goal of looking and acting like Jackie. (If I have to explain who that is, you are too young to be reading this.)

“Here’s to You…” says that “American people place high values on graceful body movements and a good figure. Being able to move gracefully and to wear clothes will increase the quality of your confidence and make you feel good within yourself and with other people, too.” It has some simple graphics and sound advice for Graceful Body Movements, Basic Modeling Stance, Hand Positions, Walking, Simple Lines in Silhouettes, Sitting, How to Enter a Room, Taking Your Coat Off , Carrying a Handbag, Wearing Gloves, and Habits. (I was very disappointed that it didn’t include tips for wearing a hat.) I must begin with the closing paragraph, which is really an affirmation to be “read daily”:

                        “I know I have the ability to walk, stand, and sit gracefully. I know I can do these things, and I promise myself here and now to begin doing some of them at once. There can be no results without desire. I must guard my thoughts. Each one is a seed which will bring forth fruit after its own kind: Action and results of action.”

The book is filled with instructions and little tests to see if you are paying attention. Here is one of the questions from “Hand Coordination With the Feet”:

            “When you walk, pivot toward the left, and stop with the left foot forward in a basic stance, where is your left hand?

My very favorite piece of advice concerns how to enter a room through an “open doorway”. Yes, there is also a page about entering through  a closed doorway. LOL  I know that this is a bit lengthy, but honestly, where else could you get this kind of advice?

            “Through an Open Doorway: When coming into a room in a home through an open doorway, pause for a moment to orient yourself. You may need to improvise your pose to fit the situation. Assume this pose for an open doorway. 1. Place your left foot forward as in a basic stance. 2. Place your left hand on your hip in a loose fist position. 3. Place your right hand on the door frame, shoulder high. Your fingers will point upward toward the ceiling.

            One way to position your feet for the open doorway pose is to place your right foot at a 45 degree angle. Your left foot is the last to come forward and points straight ahead. Your knees are flexed and your left knee is in front of the right. 

            Want to try it? Back up four steps or so out of the doorway. Approach the doorway and stop and pause just inside the opening. You must judge your steps so that you can gauge your step length. 

            If you have your purse to carry, you will be using one hand to hold your purse or purse and gloves. The other hand may be used to touch the doorway for a few seconds as a part of your pose in the open doorway.”

Okay, I’ll give you time to practice that and we’ll get to coats, handbags, and gloves another day. However, I just have to leave you with this last bit of truth found on page 17, “Silhouettes—All Sizes”:

            “The short stout figure could look more slender by creating an angle which would slenderize that part of the body which is large.”

Words of wisdom indeed. Now if I could just find that angle!