Last Day of Challenge but... More Adventure to Come!

Ah...the last day of the challenge!  I wonder how many others will write about this...or at least think it?  I must admit...when I began this challenge I was not sure how stressed I would be...and being truthful...I did have a few tense days....wondering what to write...or searching for a picture.  Yes, I'm  glad Cathy 'encouraged' to take the plunge...and no, Cathy, I did not curse your name... ever.

I plan to continue writing this blog weekly and join the weekly group if that is possible.  I think that Ruth and Stacey have done an amazing feat in getting so many people blogging and commenting on other blogs...and doing this everyday for a whole month...and not a short month like February...but a month with 31 days in it. 

So, it is Easter Day...a day of renewal...of new beginnings...and yet this is the last day of the Challenge....but I intend to make it the beginning of scheduling a blog a week.  I had begun this blog to tell family stories....and encouraged family members to write their stories as well.  Last spring, our family began a long and sad journey when my sister's husband, Geoff, was diagnosed with cancer, spending two long periods in the hospital...30 days the first time...and over 70 days the last time...and died in November. 

Geoff

My sister amazed me at her determination to be by his side at all times...to be his advocate as well as his wife.  I have always admired my sister's strength, intelligence, humor, sensitivity...but mostly her love of family...and after spending those months together with her I know how fortunte I am to be her sister. 

I did not write any posts for the blog from April until March 1st.  Feeling were too raw. But writing that first post kicked me back into action.  My
mourning continued, but knowing Geoff's sense of humor, I know he would have appreciated some of the Maxine stories as he would encourage  Maxine to tell her stories.  So each day my writing became less of a task and more of an adventure. 

I thank those who have read this blog and I hope you continue to do so.  I will post it on Facebook for those of you not in the Slice of Life.   It has meant a lot to read your comments and to realize that some of you actually looked forward to another story.   There are still many Maxine and Rae stories to tell...and of course, a sprinkling of others.  Seems a lot enjoyed the story Water Fall with Rae and me trying to move a waterbed. 

Of course, I thank my mother, Maxine, who remains with us in spirit and who was my inspiration to begin this blog...to tell her stories...like how she and my father met...that will take a number of posts though.



Maxine(Nana) with Nathan and Maggie

I want to also thank Rae...for being a good sport and letting me tell stories about her. Those of you who know her know what a super person she is...and wait until you hear the story of wall papering her bathroom.... But that will be later post.

And, yes, I thank my husband Ray. Ray has watched me stress...has been the tech support for me, solving all my computer problems...encouraged me to take the challenge...searched for pictures I could not find....helped me title the posts and proof read the posts before I clicked on 'publish'  and...well, many more ways to support this endeavor. 

Ray and Rae on Pirate Ship in Clearwater Beach

I love doing this....love the opportunity...love those who read my posts....and those who comment which lets me know there are people out there reading.  Have I said 'love' too many times?  I can't help it...it is just how I feel right now...so I think I will listen to LOVE by the Beatles!

Something for Your Rusty Bucket List

The idea of today's post comes to me as I look out the kitchen window to our back yard and see this ugly rusted bucket resting upside down between our garage and one of the big maple trees.  From the picture you can see that it would not be a chosen yard ornament for most....well really all...people.  But there it is...and there it will stay.

A little background is needed here...and I will try to be brief because there are a few stories to how my husband and I met and eventually got married 40 years later.

I lived in Columbus...Ray lived in Toledo.  He would come visit me on the weekends.  Since my mother, Maxine, lived with me it made it easier to have him visit since I did not want Maxine staying alone.  Anyway...there came a time that I needed to visit Ray...and so arranged for some friends, to come stay with Maxine.

 Before my trip to Toledo Ray seemed hesitant to tell me something....something I should know....that if I really did not like it he would remove it....  What could it be?  When I arrived at his house I saw it...the ugly rusted bucket.  I knew that is what he meant.

"So...this is it?  That bucket?"  I asked.

"When I moved here ten years ago, the bucket got tossed there.  I left it temporarily...well it sat there all winter.  When spring came I decided to move it...and when I lifted it here is what I found."

He lifted the bucket.  Hundreds of ants went into emergency mode...rushing in chaotic patterns, workers carrying their eggs to tunnels of safety.  He quickly replaced the bucket.

This was taken before the colony got really big.  The eggs have already been taken to safety.

"It's been here for ten years and I don't have the heart to move it and destroy their colony," he said, hoping I would understand.

"Ray,  this is one more reason of the millions of reasons that I love you." 

And so...the bucket remains....I have looked into getting some kind of dome for it...but have not found one large enough.  I don't know if he knew that I find ants fascinating.  I am reminded of a biography of Albert Schweitzer I read when I was in the third grade....one of those blue (Ray said his were reddish orange) covered books...a whole series of biographies that kept me busy...but my favorite one was of Albert Schweitzer...where he said that even the ants have a right to walk upon this earth.  There was more to it...but that stuck with me.

Bucket with ants crawling on it...spring time...winged ants.

I have a lot more I could write about Albert Schweitzer's influence on me....but that will have to wait another time.  (Oh...and one more thing....Ray has spider jars where he will catch spiders that are inside the house...and he returns them outside...unless it is winter...and then they are safely placed in the basement....another reason of the many reasons I love him.)

Ray with ugly rusted ant bucket.

Letterboxing...Another Obsession?

A close up of Camel Rock

Camel Rock from a distance

I had told my friend, Cathy, (the one who got me into the Slice of Life Challenge) that I planned to write about another obsession I almost had.  I think it was replaced with the Where's George obsession...but I intend to get involved again.  It is called Letterboxing.  I read a post yesterday about Geocaching...and these two are similar (in fact, I think I want to try that too!)...but they are different.  Geocaching is more high tech where Letterboxing reminds me of playing pirates in search of a treasure. (Maybe that's why getting married on Talk Like a Pirate Day was so appealing to me.)

"Letterboxing is an intriguing pastime combining artistic ability with "treasure-hunts" in parks, forests, and cities around the world. Participants seek out hidden letterboxes by cracking codes and following clues. The prize: an image from a miniature piece of art known as a rubber stamp—usually a unique, hand-carved creation.
Letterboxers stamp their discoveries in a personal journal, then use their own rubber stamp, called a signature stamp, to stamp into the letterbox's logbook."  From http://www.atlasquest.com/

Letterboxing has a long history...beginning in 1854 in England.  Go to this site for more info on the history. http://www.atlasquest.com/about/history/

I am including videos of two times the I recorded the find!  One Letterbox was found at Swan Creek Park in Toledo, OH where I seemed more concerned about moving a spider.  My husband, Ray came with me for this find.  We follow clues...like a treasure map...and hopefully find a box with a logbook and stamp in it.  This one was not a box but a strong plastic bag.  Sorry...the videos don't work on my iPad or iPhone. (Darn Apple not allowing Flash Player!)

 The other box was found at Camel Rock just north of Santa Fe, NM.  My friend, Stephanie was with me.  We did not have a stamp (which you need to stamp the logbook) and we were on our way to pick up a friend in Santa Fe...so we bought a stamp there, returned and made sure we left our mark.  It is a silly video that gets shaky sometimes...but that must be from the excitement felt by Stephanie and me.

 After we picked up Belinda, we returned to Camel Rock to put our stamp in the logbook.  This was Belinda's first experience with Letterboxing. 

So...now that it is spring and the days are getting warmer....I see some Letterboxing travels in the future....and maybe some Geocaching too.  Maybe, when we travel to the United Kingdom this fall, we can go to Dartmoor, England to where James Perrot left his first message in a bottle.

Maxine...Fashion Is What It's All About

My mother, Maxine, loved fashion and design.  I have noticed that many people my age...whose mothers were or are part of what Tom Brokow named the Greatest Generation.... many of those women were great seamstresses, often making their own patterns.  Three years ago my mother died at the age of 90.  Part of my reason for having this blog is to carry on her stories.  Here are a few pictures from a book of fashions that my mother drew when she was young.

These are kind of light, but you can get the idea.  I am not sure if this is the wedding dress she had planned to make.  She ordered a parachute from the U.S. Army with the intention of using the silk for the dress.  When she got the parachute she found it was sewn in panels too small to make the pattern she wanted to make...and  'U.S. Army' was printed all over it. 

If my father looks warm...it was 107 degrees the day they got married.  They had to snuff out the candles because they were melting...looking  more like canes.

Note the seamed stockings.

She signed her sketches 'Mack'

 

 

I am amazed at the talent she had creating suits, dresses, coats, and later made puppets, and dolls.  One year she made Annie and Sandy dolls for my niece and nephew.

Maggie with Annie and Sandy.

 

I want to thank Stacey and Ruth for hosting the Slice of Life.  It has been a positive experience and I am glad that I decided to take part in it.

 



 

 

Water Fall

How many of you have a friend whose relationship with you is much like Lucy and Ethel...or Laverne and Shirley?   My friend, Rae, Sew What-A Tale of Tape  and I have such a friendship. Rae lives at Buckeye Lake part of the year and in Clearwater Beach, FL most of the year.  This incident happened many years ago when she FIRST moved to Buckeye Lake. 

Rae informed me that she had bought a new bed and needed help emptying the water from her waterbed that was on the second floor of her cottage.  It was a spring day...kind of like what we are having in Ohio right now...reluctant to arrive and cold and windy...but sunny.  Of course, I was glad to help.  How difficult would that be....attach a hose to the waterbed and drain the water out of the window.

The first obstacle was the window....it was painted shut.  So we had to find a longer hose that would reach the only window that we could open...which was down the hall and through the other bedroom.  While I was searching the shed for a longer hose, Rae was searching for the attachment for the hose to hook on to the waterbed.  The only hose I could find was curled up in the corner looking as if it had not been used in years.  It had to be 100 feet...two hoses rusted together.  I couldn't budge the connection so I dragged it into the cottage...grumbling about how anyone could leave a hose together...growl, growl, growl...I guess I should have been glad that the previous owner had left it.

I was really impressed that Rae had found the attachment...things were looking good...so what if the hose was too long.  We got it attached and poked it out the window.  Of course, we had to put plastic garbage bags on the floor because the hose was so dirty from spending its time in the shed.  What do we do next?  The water wasn't moving?

"Maybe we have to syphon it to get it started?" was my bright idea.

"How the hell do we do that?" was Rae's reply.  Things were getting a bit testy because the hose  (probably angry that I woke it from its peaceful hibernation) was not cooperating...kept unrolling...avoiding the plastic bags... and getting dirt on the floor and the bed spread in the other room.

"Did you have a pump come with the water bed?"  I knew the answer before I asked...and the look on her face reinforced that.  If there was a pump...she had no idea where it was.

"One of us could suck the end of the hose and get it started," was Rae's suggestion.  But before she volunteered me to do that she realized that the hose was not air tight.  Oh no!! It must be leaking!

We rushed to the waterbed and found that the hose was leaking in a number of places.  Black oily water was dripping onto the plastic bags and rolling onto the carpet.  Colorful words sprang from Rae's mouth....well, mine too.  Franticly, we unscrewed the hose...slopping more water onto the floor, but at least stopped the flow.  Turned out, the hose was so old it had rotted out.  We needed to get it out of the window before it leaked anymore goo.  It is really difficult to maneuver such a long hose after it had spent years wound up...but I did manage to throw it out the window.  Rae had put the cap back on the bed.  What to do next?

I hate to admit this...but the next idea was mine.  There was that nagging thought....attempting to get through...but I discarded it.  Time was running short...her new bed was being delivered soon...and we had to drain the waterbed.

"Why don't we just roll the bladder down the stairs?"  I said.  "We could then roll it out of the living room into the kitchen and out the back door."

I don't know why Rae did not question that idea....but at the time we both wondered...Wow! how come we had not thought of that in the first place!  The stairs were the divided kind....go down about eight steps with a wrought iron railing...a small landing...turn and then about four steps that opened into the living room.   We even thought about moving some of the furniture so that we would be able to roll the bladder easier.

(Note: The  mattress size  measures 60x.80 inches and is 9 inches deep holding approximately 187 gallons of water...weighing over 1000 pounds)  For some reason, we did not consider this a problem.

It was with much sweat and more colorful words that we got the bladder out of the bed.  We were both a lot younger and stronger then.  We got on one side and rolled it just enough to step inside the bed and kept rolling the bladder with our legs and arms.  Finally it landed on the floor.  The rest was easy...well, squeezing it through the door took some effort, but we just kept kicking it through. 

I went to the landing on the stairs to help "guide' the bladder down the steps.  Rae was at the top and gave it one last shove.  This once slow moving bladder, with a burst of energy found the shortest distance to the floor of the living room.  (Suddenly I remembered the theory of gravity...or is it law of gravity!) The mattress pushed me into the corner of the landing, rolled over the railing, breaking it from the wall....bounced on the chair...and knocked over the lamp. (one of Rae's favorites....specially crafted from Utah with ancient petroglyphs on it)...breaking lamp...cutting into the bladder and creating small geysers with one big 'Old Faithful' spouting and spraying water all over the living room.  

It's one of those times that happen so fast there is no time to react to the danger until afterward.  Even though the bladder was quickly losing water it was still too heavy to drag into the kitchen.  More colorful language...and then my urge to laugh...knowing it was not the right time...but it came.  Rae saw no humor.  We continued working...me giggling and Rae growling...rolling the edges of the bladder and finally dragged it through the door and out the kitchen to the back yard.

The rest of the day was spent cleaning and repairing.  The lamp was lost...shards of pottery everywhere...it found its home with the bladder, out the back door.  The old bed was taken apart making room for the new one that was delivered much later than the time given.  At the end of the day one of her neighbors stopped by wondering what was in the back yard.

"It's a long story," said Rae.  "It is embarrassing. Who would think that two people, both having two degrees,  both advisors to the Future Problem Solvers, most would consider us fairly intelligent...but...well, there is no explanation."

Rae and I (I'm the pale one wearing the pirate hat)...still friends.

Most Important School Employee....What Do You Think?

A wise woman asked me who I thought was the most important person in the school that children would encounter. My first thought was....everyone...each has a different role. But no, she would not accept that answer...too easy...name one person.

The school secretary...this person runs the school, knows how to solve problems, is the first person to greet an angry parent...lots of reasons. But no...this wise woman said she did not agree. "The most important person a child encounters for the school day is the bus driver. The bus driver is the first person to greet the student...and that could determine the rest of the day. It makes a difference if the bus driver opens that door and welcomes the student with a smile and genuine greeting."

 I pondered that and thought about the two bus drivers I had when I was in school. There was Mr. Lane. He was perfect. I only remember him stopping the bus one time because we got too rowdy. He spoke in a quiet voice and explained the reason we needed to stay in our seats. And then he drove us to school. ( He also gave each of us a huge Hershey bar for Christmas.)

 When Mr. Lane retired the next driver was Mr. Smith (not his real name). He was a grouch and yelled every day. I could usually expect a miserable ride to and from school. He drove too fast, stopped too fast and got angry too fast. Once he turned the corner near a corn field too fast and slid into a deep ditch. The big boys (high school kids...I was probably in 7th grade...well the big boys started rocking the bus and chanting "Smithy, Smithy, Smithy" as the bus would rock precariously to the side. I knew we were going to land in the ditch, and fortunately the bus was deep enough in so that when we did fall to the side we were at an angle and not flat on the side.   We all crawled out and waited for another bus to come get us. Of course, that was before buses could communicate for help, so Mr. Smith had to leave us and call for help at the next house. I can't imagine that happening today.

   I think of the bus drivers at the school where I taught...and Jaci comes to mind.  She always smiled and knew all of the students' names. That was because she also worked in the cafeteria as the cashier, greeting each student by name, with a smile and an encouraging word. What a wonderful way to begin the school day...stepping onto the bus to the smiling face of Jaci.

Jaci with her husband (note: beautiful smile)

Yes, the wise woman was right...that school bus drivers are an important beginning and ending to the students' day.  But we must not forget each part of the fabric of the school...custodians, cooks, counselors, teachers, media specialists, secretaries, principals....on and on....So many I will not even try to continue.  Each has an important role in the education of our students.  But for today...I say 'thanks' to the school bus drivers out there who greet each child with a smile....and a special thanks to Jaci.

Some Friends Are Really Family

I am in Indianapolis now.  It is Sunday night and snowing and blowing....many of the schools have already been closed for tomorrow.  I am writing this now because I don't think I will have time to write tomorrow...we hope to be driving back to Toledo.

I am glad we came here though...we met my sister at our family friend's home.  It is the same family that took in Peppy the Chicken. Peppy the Chicken...or Cat?...Of course, all of us...(kids no more) are grown and some retired.  Three of our elders have died...first my father (Mort)...then Charlie...then my mother (Maxine).  How fortunate that the other Maxine (yes, there were two...such good friends) still lives on the farm and opens her home to us.  The farm has been in the family for over 150 years.

My parents Mort & Maxine on left

Our friends Charlie and Maxine on right

So, this post will be short today.  I had a wonderful afternoon visitng with old friends...like family...laughing about old times and thinking of ideas for blog posts. Ray and I took a short walk around the farm though the wind was bitter cold.  We saw a coyote loping through the field...and then returned to the warmth of the house.

Tomorrow (Monday) we will be on the road...